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gretavangroupie · 7 months

Text

Errant

Word count: 16.0k

Pairing: Josh Kiszka x Female Reader

Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Smoking, Angst, Fighting, Name Calling, Toxic Themes and Behavior, Allusions to Cheating, Jealousy, Anger, Gaslighting. Smut: Kissing, Touching, Oral M!Receiving, Fingering, Oral F!Receiving, Dirty Talk, Degradation, Slight Masochism, Slight Humiliation Kink, Spanking, Unprotected Sex, Rough Sex. Fluff.

A/N: Hey! Welcome back for the third installment of the four part Valentine's Day Mini Series I've been working on along with my best pal, @sacredstarcatcher! We've had so much fun writing these, and we hope that you enjoy Josh's story! This may not be everyones cup of tea, so make sure you read the warnings! There's only one left now, and we can't wait to share Jake's story with you! See you real soon!

JOSH POV

You sit on the exam table, gently swinging your feet as the doctor scribbles on his prescription pad. The paper underneath you crinkles, your clammy hands getting stuck to it.

“It’s looking like the perforation is healing, but I’m going to give you some antibiotics and ear drops. You’ll take the antibiotics for 10 days and the drops for 5.” He tears off the prescription and hands it to you. “Just be sure you aren’t drinking and you avoid getting any water in or around your ears.”

You scrunch up your nose when you hear the pointed reminder not to drink.

“Thank you, doc. I’ll be on my best behavior.” You joke, hopping down from the table. Your sneakers squeak as you stick the landing.

Navigating through the back halls of the ENT practice, you follow the signs that direct you to the check-out. It’s eerily quiet as you walk through the waiting room and out of the front doors. The sun nearly blinds you when you get outside, so you lift your hand to block it out while you search for your girlfriend’s car.

Spotting her a few rows into the parking lot, you walk in her direction, knocking softly on the window once you’re close enough. She unlocks the door and you slip inside, the car next to her parked a little too close. She sighs, shifting from park to drive while you buckle your seatbelt.

“How was it?” she asks, her enthusiasm lacking. You look over at her as she cranes her neck to check that the way is clear before she pulls out of her parking spot.

“Well, it was fine.” You take a deep breath before continuing. “I have to take antibiotics and put in ear drops for a few days, so you might have to help me with that. I can keep taking the pain meds that the doctor I originally saw prescribed, but the pain should subside as I heal.”

She nods, keeping the radio volume low. The only time she doesn’t sing in the car is when she’s upset, and you know the song currently playing is one of her favorites. So, you seal your fate and ask the dreaded question in every relationship.

“What’s wrong?”

She huffs and thinks for a moment before she answers.

“You know it’s Valentine’s day, right?”

“Oh. Yeah, I guess it is.” You’ve never put much stock in the holiday and you didn’t think she did either. The last two years, you hadn’t ever done more than get her some flowers or chocolates delivered, mostly because you weren’t around.

“I just… I don’t know, it’s the first one we’ve been able to spend together and we’re spending the day going to the doctor and the pharmacy…”

“Oh, so you’re mad that you had to bring me to the doctor?” you ask, a little defensive now.

“That’s not what I’m saying, Josh. I’m just saying I wish we were doing more than running errands.” She speaks curtly to you, and honestly, it’s a little condescending.

“It’s a made up holiday anyway. I’ve never bought into all the hearts and candy and bullshit. I didn’t think you did either.” You rest your head on your hand, looking out the window as she drives a little too fast down the freeway.

“It’s not about that. You’re not getting it.” she snaps, her tone whiny and frustrated.

“Listen. I had my assistant send you chocolate covered strawberries to your office. I don’t really know what else you want from me.” you bite back. You’ve had enough of this argument and want to be home already so you can take something for your pain and try to get some rest.

“I didn’t even know that, seeing as I had to call out and use a sick day to take you to the doctor.” she says, and you feel your scalp get hot, your temper flaring.

“So you are mad you had to bring me to the doctor.”

“I just don’t understand what a ruptured eardrum has to do with driving!” she says, her voice raising a bit. “You didn’t take your pain meds this morning so you technically would have been fine to drive… I just don’t appreciate that I had to use my PTO on Valentine’s day and all I’m doing is driving Miss Daisy.”

“I don’t know if you realize this, but I’m in a lot of fucking pain.” you grit out, and she scoffs a laugh.

“Yeah. I’ve heard.”

You know you’re about to lose it, so you close your eyes for a moment, gathering your composure. Unfortunately, she just keeps going.

“I thought I was going to spend my Valentine’s day getting bitten and scratched by your brother’s awful fucking cat, but now that you’re all home, I get to spend my evening dealing with you while you’re miserable and in pain, and I’m not sure which is worse.”

“You act like I’m home on some vacation… I have a work function tomorrow even if I’m not out at the shows, so–”

“Are you kidding me?! You somehow have MORE obligations now that you’re home? I guess I’m the fool for thinking we would have more than a few hours to spend together.” She cuts the wheel and turns sharply into your driveway. You grab the handle of the door and grumble under your breath at the way she’s driving like a maniac.

“Look, it’s not like I asked to go. Jake and Danny did the last one, so now Sam and I are stuck going tomorrow. It’s supposed to be nice. It’s a fancy thing, dinner and drinks. I figured you would be my date.”

You watch her turn off the car and think for a moment, the word “date” appealing to her a little bit, which is exactly what you had hoped.

“Come on. I missed you and I feel like shit and you’re… you’re all prickly. Can’t we just have a nice night in? I’ll make it up to you. I just want to take a nap.”

She seems to be thinking about it as she gets out of the car. You unbuckle your seatbelt and follow suit, walking around to her side and reaching for her hand. Tugging her closer, you wrap your other arm around her shoulders and kiss her on the side of her head with some force.

“Okay, okay…” she relents, leaning in to you.

“I love you. You’re still my Valentine, right?” you ask, nuzzling your nose into her hair and squeezing her tighter. It works up a little giggle out of her, which means you’re in the clear.

“I guess so. You didn’t even ask me.”

You squeeze her again, this time digging your fingertips into her sides to tickle another laugh out of her.

“It was on the card that came with the strawberries, obviously.” you quip, peppering her cheek and neck in kisses while she continues to soften up.

“Oh, get out of here. Go take your damn nap.” she says with a smile, turning you by the shoulders towards the house and pushing gently.

—

HER POV

You hear the soft padding of feet upstairs and the whip of the flat sheet as your bed is remade, pulling your attention away from your computer screen as you send off emails. The sun is set now, the room cast in darkness, and you figure Josh has slept off the fatigue that was a result of his medications. You gently close your computer, setting it next to you on the couch as you hear his feet walking slowly down the stairs. You turn to lay eyes on him, looking a little worse for wear in his low slung joggers, but still glowing as usual.

“Hey baby, you feel any better?” you ask, resting your chin on the back of the fluffy leather couch cushion.

“No. Not really, but it’s fine.” he pauses, reaching the landing and walking up to the back of the couch. He pulls his phone from his pocket and checks the time, “You want to get ready, we can go grab dinner?” he asks, running a hand over his messy curls.

“I would love to, but are you sure you want to?” you ask, a little surprised that he actually wants to go out.

“Yeah, I have to eat with these antibiotics.” he says, pushing off the couch, and heading into the kitchen. “How long do you need to get ready?”

“Um, I don’t know, twenty minutes or so?” you answer, standing quickly and grabbing your phone from the coffee table.

“Alright, I’ll be up there to change in a minute.”

You take the stairs two at a time, rounding the corner into your bedroom, and dashing into the closet. You finger through your hangers searching for the perfect outfit, the idea not occurring to you that you’d need one since he wasn’t even supposed to be home for Valentine’s day this year.

You pull a dark burgundy top from the hanger, the thick sweater material perfect for the cold snap that has swept over Nashville this week. You pull your t-shirt over your head and put it on while reaching for a pair of dark wash jeans. After shimmying into the denim pants, you find a pair of heels, kicking off your socks and securing the buckle at your ankle.

You make a mad dash into the bathroom, doing a quick version of your normal make up and running a curling iron through your hair. You’re spraying your wrist with his favorite perfume just as you see him walk past the bathroom door and into the closet. You can hear him changing clothes, grabbing his coat and pulling it over his arms as he steps into the bathroom and meets your gaze in the mirror.

“Wow, uh, you know it’s freezing out, right? Actually, colder than freezing.” he says, adjusting his sleeves.

“Yeah, I’ll grab my coat from the closet down stairs, no big deal.” you answer, walking towards him and shutting off the bathroom light.

“You sure you want to wear heels?” he asks, as he ushers you downstairs, a lilt in his voice.

You open the coat closet, grabbing your jacket and pulling it over your arms. “Yeah, why not?”

He throws his hands up, “Just asking…”

You grab your purse from the kitchen counter, following his lead out to the car. He makes a point to open your car door, shutting it behind you before skittering across the front of the car to join you.

With the turn of his keys, his Jeep roars to life, his fingers quickly pressing the buttons to turn on the heat. He puts the car in reverse, backing up enough to turn around in the driveway, the gravel crunching beneath his tires. He lays his hand over top of yours on your thigh, clasping your hand in his. He licks over his lips and turns to look at you.

“Hey,” he pauses, waiting until he has your attention. You let your eyes meet his, before he refocuses on the road. “I’m sorry about earlier… I just have a short fuse when I’m in pain. Thank you for taking me today, and thanks for taking care of me.”

“Oh, it’s– it’s okay, I know you don’t feel good. Don’t worry about it, baby. We’re here now, right?” you say, offering him a lopsided smile.

He pats your thigh as he drives down the road, leading you into town as he mouths the words to the songs playing through the speakers. Your heart flutters as you look at him, your head tilting back to rest on the headrest, just happy to be with him, and happy that he changed his mind about doing something tonight.

You’re quickly pulled from your daydreams as he whips the car into the parking lot of Phil’s Tavern, a local spot that is not exactly known for its phenomenal cuisine, sitting a whopping 5 minutes away from your home. You sit up a little straighter, making sure you’re seeing this right, and that he really is parking the car.

“Phil’s…” you question, turning to look at him.

“...Yeah? Did you want something else…?” he asks, as if annoyed you’d question his decision.

“You said– You– I thought we were going to dinner, not picking up sandwiches from the fucking neighborhood bar?!” you shout.

“I’m not getting a sandwich. I’m getting soup. You can get whatever you want.” he says, pulling his keys from the ignition, and opening his door.

A huff leaves your mouth as your jaw hangs slack, watching in shock as he shuts the door behind himself and makes his way to yours. He opens yours and offers you a hand to step down, but you’re still sitting in shock that this is his idea of a romantic Valentine’s day date.

“Josh…” you admonish, looking down at your heels and sweater.

“What? I asked you if you wanted to wear that and you said yes!” he says, shrugging his shoulders.

“Yeah! I didn’t think we were going to fucking Phil’s, Josh! It’s Valentine’s Day! I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there aren’t a lot of cars in the parking lot?!”

He clicks his tongue, and looks around. “Perfect, then we have the place to ourselves.”

Your eyes close on their own and you take a deep breath to keep yourself from having a meltdown. You grab your purse from the floorboard and grab his hand, stepping out of the car and snatching it away from him as soon as your feet hit the gravel.

He shuts the door behind you and locks the car, the two of you walking quickly into the dimly lit bar and grill. You walk up to the counter to order, watching as the bartender throws back a shot with the guys at the end of the bar. You catch his attention and he rushes over to the order counter pulling a pen out of his pocket. “What can I get ‘cha?”

“Hey man, can we uh– I’ll take the soup of the day, whatever it is is fine.”

“It’s ahh, it’s Chicken Tortilla.” he answers.

“Yeah, that’s great, thanks.” he answers, pulling his wallet from his pocket. “Babe?” he murmurs, wanting you to order.

“Okay, I’ll do a Cuban, extra pickles.” you say, crossing your arms over your chest.

He nods, “Outta Cuban bread, sorry sweets.”

“Okay I’ll do the Italian then.” you concede, watching him scribble it down on the notepad.

“You want that hot or cold?” he asks.

“Hot.”

“Think our press is down, but I can check.” he says, turning to shout towards the kitchen.

“It’s down, is cold fine?” he asks, him and Josh both staring at you.

“Fuck.” you mutter under your breath. “Yes, fine.”

“$17.97.” he says, ringing the service bell for the staff. Josh swipes his card through the card reader and puts it back into his wallet, placing it back in his pocket before thanking the man at the counter.

“Oh shit, I didn’t tell him it’s to go. You don’t care if we take it home, right? It’s a little loud in here.” he doesn't give you a chance to answer before stepping back up to the window.

You pull your phone from your purse, opening Instagram to mindlessly scroll while you wait for your food, seeing story after story of the dates your friends are on, fueling your rage all the more. You didn’t care that you weren’t at a fancy restaurant. You didn’t care that you were having a sandwich. You cared that he seemingly didn’t care about how you were feeling. That it was just any other old day to him, simply because he didn’t subscribe to the holiday. But that didn’t mean you didn’t. You tried to see the bright side, that he was home, and that you were at least together, even if he was in a sour mood.

He steps back over to you, pulling his own phone from his pocket and sending a few texts. You can’t help but notice how carefree he is, completely unbothered and oblivious to how you’re feeling as you stand right next to him.

“You wanna watch a movie or something when we get back?” he asks, putting his phone in his jacket pocket.

“What movie?” you ask, raising a brow.

“I don’t know, a documentary? We can find something, I’ll probably fall asleep watching it anyways.”

You huff out a laugh, “Of course. Yeah, whatever you want Josh.”

“What’s your deal tonight, Y/N, Jesus…”

You feel your blood boiling beneath your skin and just as you are about to unleash, the order bell rings and a brown paper bag is placed on the counter. Josh steps up and grabs it, pulling his car keys from his pocket and heading for the door, leaving you to follow behind him.

—

He pulls into the driveway rapidly, rocks flying as he throws the car into park. Shutting off the engine he pulls his keys from the ignition and grabs the brown paper bag from the center console. “Come on, let’s get inside. I’ll start the fireplace.”

You huff as you step out of the car, making your way up the walkway, pulling the sleeves of your coat over your hands. He unlocks the front door and places the to-go bag on the kitchen counter on his way to the living room.

You take off your coat and hang it in the closet, pulling your foot up to release the buckles of your heels, letting you drop back down to your normal height. You can hear him mumbling in the living room, clearly having a hard time getting the fire lit. You walk into the kitchen grabbing a bottle of red wine off the top of the fridge, and searching around the junk drawer for the corkscrew. It’s no time at all before you’re popping the cork out of the bottle and pouring the Merlot into a bulbous green colored wine glass.

He joins you in the kitchen, washing his hands in the sink before looking over at you, starting to take the first sip of your wine. “Really? You’re serious…”

“Serious, what? About this glass of wine? Yeah, I am.” you quip, swallowing down the first sip.

“You’re really gonna drink my favorite wine, right in front of me when you know I can’t have any? What are you playing at tonight, Y/N?” he seethes, pulling his plastic container of soup from the bag.

“What am I playing at? I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that just because you can’t drink, meant that I had to follow suit! My mistake!” you shout, setting the glass down on the marble countertop maybe a little more forcefully than you should have.

He shakes his head trying to rid the nasty thoughts you know are swirling around up there as he pulls a spoon from the utensil drawer. “Whatever, I’m gonna take this to the couch.”

You grab a plate from the cabinet in front of you, unwrapping your sandwich and placing it on the plate. You look over and see him tinkering with the TV remote, no doubt queueing up something the two of you have watched, studied, and rewatched a hundred times. You grab your wine glass and your plate and join him in the living room, setting your items on the coffee table before sitting at the opposite end of the couch.

The tension in the air is thick, neither of you wanting to say anything for fear of it turning into yet another argument. So instead, he presses play on the remote, and as suspected, ‘Kubrick by Kubrick’ begins to play for the 77th time in this household.

“Josh, really…” you whine, your shoulders slumping in defeat.

“I don’t want to get too invested in anything, I’m gonna pass out as soon as I finish this soup.” he answers, turning up the volume to effectively silence you.

“Can’t we watch something, I don’t know… With a plot? With a shred of romance? That we haven’t seen a hundred times?” you barter, talking over the intro music.

“Can’t you just let me enjoy being home for once?” he snaps, pressing pause on the remote.

Your eyes dial in on his, and almost poetically, you’re positive he can see the reflection of the flames in the fireplace dancing across your infuriated eyes.

“For once…” you breathe, biting your tongue. “Sure, sure. You uh– you just enjoy yourself, okay? I would hate to ruin your time at home with my presence.” you say, standing up from the couch with your wine glass in hand, leaving your sandwich laying there as you bound up the stairs.

Before you even reach the top you hear the music blare back to life, and the slurping of the soup from his spoon. If you had a bedroom door you would slam it but fucking of course, you don’t.

You place your wine glass on your nightstand before walking into your closet ridding yourself of the wasted outfit. You pull a slinky black satin slip from your pajama drawer, dropping it over your bare body before padding back out to the bedroom to close the curtains.

You draw back the fluffy flax colored duvet, thinking of nothing but positively melting into your olive green linen sheets; a Christmas splurge the two of you decided you couldn’t live without. Sinking down into the feather pillows you let out a sigh, finding yourself exactly where you expected to be tonight, before you ever knew Josh was coming home for a few days.

You settle in with your glass of wine and your kindle, reading love stories of men, who at this point, you were sure didn’t really exist. An hour or so later, when the wine was long gone, and the house had grown quiet you heard the front door lock, and the flick of the light switches downstairs. You switched off your lamp, hoping to avoid any further conversation for the night, placing your tablet on the nightstand and pulling the sheets up over your shoulders.

His footfall is light as he pads up the wooden stairs, rounding the corner hesitantly as he catches sight of you in the bed. He slides his hand down the wall as he enters the room, walking quietly into the bathroom and shutting the door. You can hear the sink running and the sound of him tossing his clothes into the hamper as you close your eyes and will yourself to fall asleep.

It’s not long until you hear the door open and feel the dip in the bed as he slides in behind you, a gentle sigh leaving his lips as he sinks into the sheets. You feel the brush of his knuckles as they glide up your spine. “I know you’re not asleep, my love…”

Knowing you’re caught, you turn softly to your back, “No, you don’t know. I could have been.”

A soft smile forms on his lips, a few misplaced curls falling over his forehead, “Not true. I know you fall asleep with your arms over your head every single night. And in the middle of the bed. You never sleep on your side of the bed.”

“Well maybe I want to tonight.” you quip, rolling back to your side and repositioning the sheets.

“Come on baby, don’t be like that.” he says, wrapping his arm around your waist. He pulls you towards him, his obviously nude body conforming to yours. You can feel him, hard against your back and you push away from him.

“Josh…” you scold.

“What, baby…” he asks, running his hand along the curve of your waist. “I miss you…”

“You didn’t an hour ago!” you sneer.

“Yes I did! I miss you all the time! Every single day I’m away from you. That’s why you moved in, remember? So I could spend every day with you when I’m home?” he pauses, “Every night like this?”

“Josh, I just– Tonight was… Well the entire day, really, was rough. I’m not exactly in a romantic mood at the moment.” you answer.

“Well that’s okay, you can just blow me instead.” he says, more of a demand than a question, his lips brushing against your shoulder.

“Oh can I?! How generous of you to offer that to me! What a privilege!” you mock. “You really have earned it, I can’t believe I didn’t think of this myself!” you scorn, reaching for his hand and shoving it towards his dick. “Try that instead!”

“Goddamn you’re being such a bitch!” he seethes, throwing the duvet off of himself and snatching his phone from the nightstand.

“Yeah! Happy Valentine’s day to you too, Josh!” you spit one last time as you watch him pull on a pair of boxers. He smooths his hand over his face and runs his tongue under his lips, looking at you one more time before stomping his way down the stairs.

—

JOSH POV

It took you approximately fourteen seconds after you said it to know you fucked up. It took you two more seconds to realize there was no coming back from it, at least that’s what you deduced as you tossed and turned on the living room couch all night. You spent those sleepless hours racking your brain for ways you could fix this. You were a dick, admittedly, in pain or not, and she in no way deserved the way you treated her.

You pulled your sore body up from the couch, tossing the throw blanket over the arm as you made your way up the stairs. She was still sleeping, sprawled across the middle of the bed with your pillow hugged to her face. You wished you could take back what you said. You wished you had taken her somewhere nicer than Phil’s. You should have known that when you saw her in heels and smelled your favorite perfume. She dressed up for you. But you couldn’t see past your own selfish needs. You only cared about yourself and what you wanted.

You kicked yourself the entire time you spent under the spray of the shower, knowing that of the three sporadic days you would spend at home with her, you’d let one go completely to shit. Then tonight, you’d spend the whole night schmoozing with label executives, where she would willingly stand in your shadow until it was time to go home.

Unless…

A smile spread across your face as you formulated your plan, and as you shut off the water and wrapped a towel around your waist you hoped and prayed it would work.

—

You rap your knuckles against the old wooden front door, peeking through the glass to see if there is any movement inside. It’s nearly noon and you know he’s in there, but whether or not he’s awake is the question. You shove your hands into your pockets, the cold air whipping through the porch a little too harshly for your liking.

You hear his footsteps bounding down the stairs and you see him appear through the glass, a strange look on his face as he opens the door.

“If you’re on my doorstep, you want something that a text wouldn’t cover.” he says, raising a brow.

“Can I not come visit my twin?” you ask, pushing past him into his warm house.

“No, I think your last words to me when we left the airport were ‘Fuck off, don’t call me, I’ll see you in three days’, but I could be mistaken.” he says, shutting the front door.

“Listen…” you counter, flopping yourself down onto his couch with a huff.

He stands across the living room with his hands on his hips and a small smile on his lips. There’s something different about him, but you can’t quite put your finger on it. Almost like a little bit of life has been breathed into him.

“Why do you look different…” you ask, the intrusive thought pushing through.

“I don’t.” he says, putting his hands on his hips. His eyes flick up to the window behind you, before looking back at you.

You cut your eyes at him, you can tell he’s not telling the truth but you let it go because you have more important issues to deal with.

“I need a favor.” you say, cutting right to the chase.

He raises his eyebrows signaling for you to continue.

“I need you to go to this event tonight in my place, I–”

“No.” he shouts, cutting you off.

“Jake, please. Y/N and I got in a huge fight and I have to make it up to her and I can’t if I have to go to this fucking thing tonight.” you explain, giving him the shortened version.

“No. Actually, my answer is not only no, but fuck no.” Jake stood with his arms crossed across his chest. You let your head flop back onto his couch, a groan leaving your chest.

“You know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t fucking dire.” You plead. “I fucked up, and I have to make it right. Please Jake…”

“Jesus Christ, it’s Thanksgiving all over again. You know Josh, if you and Y/N didn’t fight like this every other day, I might be more willing to consider it. One day you’re gonna fuck around and lose her for good.” he says, shaking his head and rubbing his hand over his chin. “Hold on, you two fought on Valentine’s day? Fuckin’ poetic. What did you do, buy the wrong flowers? The wrong chocolates?”

“No, I… Didn’t get her flowers.” you mumble, hoping he didn’t hear you.

“Okay, so no flowers. Did you take her out to dinner or something?” he asks, tilting his head.

“No, I mean, well, kind of.” you mumble again. “Didn’t really think about it.”

“Where did you take her Josh.” he demands, crossing his arms again.

“We went to Phil’s…And got…To-go…” you answer, realizing again as you say it out loud how bad it sounds.

“The fucking sandwich place Josh, you’re kidding me…” he spits, starting to pace around the room.

“Don’t act all high and mighty Jacob, you sat home alone...” you retort, knowing this isn’t helping your case.

He lifts his finger to you, pointing at you with a scowl, “Fuck you. Also, it sounds like she was justified. Didn’t she take you to the doctor yesterday? Hasn’t she been catering to your ass since we’ve been back?”

“Yeah.” you answer.

“And you didn’t plan a single thing at all…” he confirms.

“Correct.” you say, over enunciating the ‘T’.

“Asshole.”

“Okay, so you agree, I fucked up and need to fix this.” you say, gesturing with your hands. “So go to the event tonight in my place and let me smooth things over with Y/N tonight.”

“Sorry, but I can’t. I have plans.” he answers, shrugging his shoulders.

“Plans?! With who? You don’t leave your house!” you shout, seeing a blur of black fur and claws tear across the living room. “Jesus, I always forget you have that thing.”

“Yeah, I’m not keeping it.” he says, shaking his head. “And it’s none of your business. You’re going to that event. The label doesn’t care if you’re in a fight with your girlfriend. They are expecting you, and you are who they’re gonna get. Plus, Sam will be there so you don’t have to do all the talking. Take her with you, lay it on thick, and take her home. Things will blow over like they always do and you’ll be back to your 2AM facetime gushy bullshit in no time.”

“Fuck…” you sigh, laying down across his couch. “I just don’t think it’s gonna go that way. This was a bigger fight than usual.” you say, feeling your phone vibrating in your pocket. You pull it out to see your timer flashing, indicating it is time for your next dose of antibiotics.

You reach into your other pocket, pulling out the loose pill, and grabbing the glass of water you assume to be Jake’s from the coffee table. You swallow down the pill as he watches in contempt, checking the time on his phone.

“Do you need anything else?” he asks, pacing around his living room.

“No. Guess fuckin’ not. What are you getting into today?” you ask, relaxing back into the cushions.

“I have… some errands to run. And a few other things.” he says, dismissively.

“Errands and a few other things? Who the fuck are you…” you ask, stretching your legs out on to the coffee table.

“I was about to take a shower, are you staying or going?” he asks, and as you lay your head back on the couch your eyes start to feel heavy.

“Just gonna rest my eyes for a minute.” you answer, getting more comfortable.

“Goddamnit, Josh… Okay, but you’re leaving when I do.”

—

The sound of the front door closing is what wakes you, and as you come to you see Jake standing in front of you with grocery bags, clearly back from his errands.

“Well, good morning.” he says, his tone a little snipped.

“Shit, what time is it?” you ask, pulling your phone from your pocket and checking the time. Fuck.

“Yeah, time for you to go the fuck home and get ready.” he says, making his way into the kitchen.

“Alright, I’m outta here, good luck with your… plans…” you smirk, making your way to the door.

“Don’t need luck, but sounds like you do. Fix it, Josh.” he says, pushing you out the front door and slamming it behind you.

—

HER POV

As you leave the house, you think back on how many hours it’s been since you spoke to Josh. He popped into the bedroom when he got home and let you know that you had to leave by 6 to get to the event on time, but you don’t really count that as a conversation. You hadn’t actually exchanged words since your argument before bed.

The two of you sit in complete silence as he drives, the radio turned down so low it’s barely audible. You hold your jacket close around you, unable to shake the chill from the awful cold snap plaguing Nashville.

As you arrive, Josh quickly gets out of his Jeep, jogging around to your door to open it and offer you a hand to step out. You accept it, begrudgingly, and steady yourself on the asphalt. You opted for smaller heels tonight, a little scorned from the night before. You look at him and see his slightly forced smile under the streetlight. He’s in his favorite brown suit, his hair in perfect curls, three tiny, metallic dots painted on the apples of his cheeks. He looks sinfully good, and if you weren’t so upset with him, you’d kiss him square on the lips.

“I know you don’t want to be here. Just… at least try to smile in the pictures, okay?” He says, a hopeful lilt to his voice.

You give him a little side-eye before starting to walk towards the front doors of the venue. He catches up with you after locking the car, his hand landing on your upper back as he ushers you into the front door he’s holding open for you.

The two of you wait in line for the coat check, your eyes scanning the lobby for anyone you may know. You don’t recognize anyone, so you shuffle ahead in line and keep your coat pulled tight around you. Once you’re a bit further up in line, almost to the front, you hear a familiar voice.

“Heeeeey guys!”

Sam’s arms wrap around both of you from behind, pulling you into a forced group hug. He unintentionally cuts the entire coat check line to stand with you and Josh.

“Hi Sammy,” you mumble, giving him a halfhearted smile. He looks to Josh, who forces a grin, his nose scrunching up in a way that makes it clear to Sam that the two of you aren’t getting along. It’s nothing new to Sam, so he shrugs it off.

The line moves again and you’re finally at the front. A friendly young girl is standing behind the podium at the entry to the closet, a few guys running back and forth to take coats and put them in their assigned spots. She offers the three of you a smile as she looks down and tears a tab in half.

“Can I take your coat, sir?” she asks Josh as you start to shrug your own off your shoulders.

“Ohoho, trying to get me out of my clothes, young lady? I just walked in the door!” he says, like he’s some sort of comedian. You roll your eyes so hard you think they may fall out of your head and fold your coat over your arm. She laughs, her cheeks turning pink as she accepts your coat instead. She dutifully hands the coat to the boy behind her, then offers the other half of the ticket up, between you and Josh for either to grab it.

“And now you’re trying to give me your number?” he jokes with a charismatic grin, seeing the number 107 on your ticket. She lets out a shameless giggle at that one and you can’t help but shake your head and walk away, uninterested in hearing any more of his god awful jokes. You arrived in a terrible mood and he’s already managed to make your night worse.

Passing through the entrance to the cocktail hour, you grab a glass of champagne and thank the server. Taking a big sip, you look behind you and see Sam and Josh approaching, Josh talking animatedly with his hands to Sam, but Sam is looking straight ahead. At you.

His eyes scan over your figure- you’re in a champagne satin mini-dress. The cowl neckline is loose, but the waist pulls in due to the lace-up back. The shimmery color is brought to life under the light right above where you’re standing. Sam isn’t listening to a single word Josh is saying, just nodding and staring at you from a distance as his steps slow.

It’s then that you cook up a terrible idea, if not the worst you’ve ever had. If Josh wants to treat you like he doesn’t care about you and put more romantic energy into the coat check girl than he’s shown you in days, you may as well give him a taste of his own medicine. Right?

Sam eventually pulls his eyes away from your body, nodding cluelessly at Josh. He can’t help it and looks back at you again, but this time, Josh’s gaze follows his. You sip your champagne, ignoring the way Josh’s eyebrows raise in surprise as his neck cranes forward slightly. You can read his lips as he says, “Jesus Christ.” and look away without giving him a reaction.

The two of them make their way over to the high top cocktail table you’ve claimed as your own. Josh clears his throat and musters up the courage to speak to you. His voice sounds like it might crack.

“I’ve never seen that dress. Where’d you get it?” he asks, giving you another once-over now that he’s closer.

“You sent it to me while you were in Paris for my birthday.” you answer dryly. “Or was that your assistant too?”

He closes his eyes and lets out a sigh, realizing he’s just dug himself a little bit deeper.

“Come to think of it, Josh, have you ever bought me a gift yourself? Or do you just send the people that work for you on errands to ship me fancy baubles to keep me quiet and occupied while you’re away?”

He steps a little closer to you, lowering his voice.

“Do we have to do this here?” he pleads. “I’m sorry I didn’t remember. You look beautiful. Okay? Let me go get you a drink. What do you want?”

You cut your eyes to Sam, who seems to be trying to occupy himself by staring up at the ceiling. Letting out a big sigh, you mumble back a tired, “Champagne,” to Josh.

He nods and walks off, heading for the bar. In the meantime, you look at Sam, who’s giving you a nervous smile.

“Sorry. It’s been… a rough few days.” You confess. “This ear thing has turned him into a jackass.”

“Oh, yeah. He complained the whole way home.” Sam says, commiserating.

“So it’s not just me?!” You laugh, Sam joining you.

“No no. Not just you.”

You notice Josh is on his way back and decide to test the waters. Reaching forward, you step closer to Sam and adjust the collar of his shirt under his suit jacket, your touch lingering as you let your hand brush down the front of his chest before tugging his jacket into place and pulling your hands back to yourself. You’re in close proximity, so you look up at him with a little bat of your eyelashes.

“Oh. Thank you!” He says, a little caught off guard, but he’s Sam, and he’s friendly, and you know he’s going to let you get away with it.

Josh appears and somehow squeezes his arm between you and Sam, placing your champagne on the table. He’s noticed the mischievous glint in your eye and it’s game on.

The event starts to pick up, more and more people roping Josh into conversations. It’s obvious that he’s the more recognizable of the two brothers there tonight, so you find yourself left standing with Sam on more than a few occasions.

“Did you trim your hair?” You ask him, reaching out to twirl the end of his shiny brown locks around your finger. He chuckles softly, feeling a little bashful. Josh is at your side but deep in conversation with a man you’ve never seen in your life.

“Yeeaaaaah, I did, it was getting a little unruly. Just trying to keep it healthy. I’m surprised you noticed.”

“Of course I noticed, Sammy. Some people may not notice you. But I always do.” Your voice is syrupy sweet. You feel a nudge from the other side of you and Josh is clearly eavesdropping, his brain working overtime as he nods at the gentleman talking his ear off while also listening to you and Sam. Sam doesn’t notice and gives you a soft laugh, shrugging. His cheeks are tinted a little pink. He’s too easy.

“Why don’t we go find our table for dinner, hm?” Josh suggests, cutting his conversation short, which is just not in his character. You finish your last sip of champagne and leave your glass on the table.

“You heard him. C’mon, Sammy boy.”

You reach for his arm, linking it with yours. Josh gives you a look, but you usher him forward with a dismissive gesture. He glowers at you before walking toward the seating chart to see that the three of you are at table six. Sam follows along, his hand in his pocket as you hold on to his forearm.

You settle into the chair between Sam and Josh. You opt for the chicken when the caterers come around, and both Sam and Josh go for the fish. There are a few speeches that go on before your plates arrive, so you sit politely and listen, Josh’s back to you as the speakers present. Since Sam is behind you, there are a few points where you turn around to laugh with him about something the presenter says. Josh stays facing forward, effectively blocking the two of you out.

As your plates are delivered, everyone starts to eat, the table occasionally chattering, but it’s mostly quiet as some music plays.

“How’s the chicken?” Josh asks, trying to make small talk. You take a bite, nodding.

“Really good. And the fish?” You ask politely, but you don’t really care.

“Delicious. Do you want a bite?” He asks, gesturing to his plate with his utensils.

“Oh, no. No thanks.” You reply, turning away. He shrugs and goes back to eating his dinner, sipping his water.

“Do you wanna try a bite of the chicken, Sammy?” You ask, raising your eyebrows. You give him a soft smile as he nods, swallowing his bite.

Cutting a piece, you lift your fork towards Sam and he instinctively opens his mouth. Your other hand comes up under his chin to make sure he doesn’t get any sauce on his jacket. He accepts the bite from your fork and chews, nodding.

“Oh, that’s really good. I should have gotten that.” He says, talking with his mouth full. It’s then that the stranger next to Sam interjects.

“How long have you two been together?” She says, a nosey but well meaning woman. Josh nearly chokes on his dinner, pulling his cloth napkin up to his mouth as he coughs. It’s such a distraction that you don’t hear what Sam says to her.

Once Josh stops coughing, he looks at you with a subtle anger behind his eyes.

“Can you stop? I get it. You made your point.” Josh grumbles through gritted teeth. You feign innocence, blinking at him with bullshit doe eyes.

“What point, Josh?”

“You’re flirting with my brother so blatantly that strangers think you’re dating. What the fuck am I supposed to do, just sit here and let it happen?”

Sam, realizing tensions are high, starts to stand up.

“I’m gonna go get some air…” he says, departing from the table like it’s on fire.

“I’m not flirting with him. I’m just being nice to him. You remember what that is, right? Being nice?” You say with an attitude, tilting your head as you wait for an answer.

“Cut it out.” He tenses his jaw and his mouth barely moves as he scolds you like you’re some kind of dog.

“Fuck you, Josh.” You’re not putting up with it for another second, so you push away from the table, grab your drink, and head in the direction Sam went.

As you sneak through the crowds and the bar lines, you check to see if Josh is following you, but he’s still seated at the table. You see Sam through the glass doors, standing under a tent that’s doing little to nothing to stop the wind, smoking a cigarette. Gently pressing against the push bar, you slip outside and approach him tentatively.

It’s quiet between the two of you as he gives you a smile that’s more of a grimace, though you know him and know that it’s not his intention.

“Two wrongs don’t make a right, you know that, right?” He says, giving you a knowing smirk as he exhales some smoke. You sigh, kicking at a pebble beneath your feet. You hold your glass of champagne with both hands, your thumb nervously running along the side of it.

“I feel like I do. But sometimes I can’t help myself.” You peer up at him, a coy smile spreading across your face. He lets out a laugh, shaking his head.

“You two are a match made in hell,” he starts, bringing the cigarette back to his lips. “But I can’t imagine him with anyone else.”

You roll your eyes. Lately you’ve been feeling like Josh doesn’t even want to be with you anymore, but it’s not like you would have time to even discuss splitting up in person, since he’s hardly around long enough. Instead of divulging any of that to Sam, you lift your head and step closer.

“Can I have a drag of that?” You ask, giving him a mischievous smirk.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. You know how he is.” Sam says, well aware that the only thing Josh thinks it’s okay to smoke is not cigarettes.

“Just one.” You bargain, looking out at the parking lot for a moment, then up at him with doe eyes. He can’t help but smile at you in return.

“Don’t even touch it. He’ll smell it on your hands.” He jokes, turning it around in his fingers and holding it towards you. You tilt up your chin, smiling sweetly before he moves it closer to your pouty, glossy lips. Your eyes close gently and you start to inhale.

Within seconds, it’s pulled from your lips, and all you hear is Sam’s thick Michigan accent as he whines, “OWWWW!” your eyes shooting open.

“I will break every bone in your fuckin’ hand if you don’t get the fuck out of here right now, Samuel.” Josh threatens, suddenly outside with the two of you on the patio. Sam grabs the cigarette from his restrained hand with his free one, dropping it to the ground and stepping on it with wide eyes.

Josh pushes his arm towards him as he lets it go and Sam nearly trips over himself, mumbling a startled, “Jesus Christ.” before adjusting his suit jacket and heading for the door.

“And you.” Josh is positively seething, as he steps up to you. “What am I going to do with you, hm?”

You nervously step backwards, leaning onto the railing behind you as he cages you in. “Josh, I’m–”

“Oh, it’s a little late for that, don't you think? I fucking warned you, Y/N.” His hand grips into your elbow, yanking your forward and dragging you behind him as you make your way back inside the building. “Get your fucking coat and meet me at the front door.” he says, releasing you as you enter back into the large crowd.

You walk back over to your table, collecting your bag and your champagne before rushing over towards the coat check. You hand the same girl your ticket stub, and you anxiously sip your champagne as you wait. You may have pushed him too far this time. Seconds later she returns with your coat, and you take it with a smile, pulling it over your arms and making your way to the front door.

Josh is waiting, chewing a piece of gum a little harsher than necessary. His jaw is hard set and his cheeks are pink and you know this does not bode well for you. As you approach him he offers a small wave and a smile to someone behind you, before letting his eyes drift back to yours, full of fury, the tension returning to his body.

“Oh, so you can listen.” he says, yanking the large glass door open, both of you being hit with the cold outside air. You step out the door and begin the walk to the car, clutching your jacket close to your body. Your teeth chatter as the wind hits you, your whole body shivering.

“What, are you cold in that slutty little dress?” he asks, walking a little too quickly for you to keep up with him. “Seemed just fine on the patio with Sam. Suck it up and keep walking.”

He turns his head looking back at you as you try to drink down the rest of your champagne. He reaches for the glass, ripping it from your hand and tossing it into the bushes. You hear the glass shatter and you’re a little taken aback. You’ve never seen him this mad before, and you hate that you kinda like it.

“Josh!” you shout, you cheeks heating at his aggressiveness, and you think the alcohol in your system is to blame for that.

“What has gotten into you, Y/N?! You think– You think you can just go around acting like a little slut at my work events? With my fucking brother? Do you know how that looks!?” he shouts, as you round the corner, steadily approaching the car. He is still chewing the gum too hard, hoping it will relieve some of the tension pulsing through his body.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Josh, I think the pain meds are making you crazy.” you scoff, completely brushing off his accusations, even though he is completely right.

“Oh, fuck offff…It’s not the pain meds, it’s you! You’re making me fucking crazy! Running around like a little trollop just to make me irate for sport!” he yells, his midwestern accent peeking out in his anger.

He reaches for the door handle, yanking it open to let you step in, regardless of how angry he currently is. As you position yourself in the seat you turn to look at him, ready to deliver another snarky comment but as you open your mouth he cuts his eyes and slams the car door closed. You huff and fasten your seatbelt as he joins you on the other side.

He starts the car and peels out of the parking spot, spinning the tires as he pulls out onto the main road. Your hands grasp at the door handle for stability, his expression unwavering as he continues to blow down the backstreets of downtown Nashville.

“Josh, I–”

“No. Silence. Don’t say another fucking word until I speak to you first. Got it?” he snaps, the fury is thick in his voice.

You cross your arms over your chest, debating whether or not to taunt him further. As if he can hear your thoughts he turns to you, speaking through clenched teeth.

“Not. A. Fucking. Word.”

The rest of the drive home was spent in silence, and you could tell he was compiling his list of your transgressions. You knew that the second the front door shut behind you he was going to unleash every bit of it on you, and to be quite honest, you couldn’t wait.

Once he tears recklessly up the driveway, he kills the engine and the headlights. Throwing open the door, he slams it behind him and makes his way around to the passenger side. Despite his burning anger, he’s still insistent on opening your door for you. He offers you a hand and when you take it, you feel how warm he is to the touch. Hopping down to the ground, he lets you steady yourself, then tugs your hand so you’re forced to walk in front of him. He lets go once he knows you’ve gotten the hint and start off wobbling through the gravel in your heels like a baby deer as he locks the car.

You wait next to the front door, knowing Josh has his keys and you opted to leave yours at home to save space in your clutch. He ignores you, his jaw still working overtime on the probably stale gum in his mouth, turning the key in the lock and pushing into the house. He leaves the door open for you to follow him in, so you do, shutting it gently as you slip off your heels.

He tosses his keys onto the dining table and you watch as they slide to a halt as he rids himself of his suit coat, tossing it over the back of a chair. You make a move towards the closet, ready to hang your own coat but as you walk he steps in front of you, snatching the thick black fabric from your hands to throw it over the same chair. He stares at you with a hardened jaw, his face and ears red as he prepares for his onslaught, and as a small grin turns up the corner of your lips you see his anger tip the scales to catastrophic.

“I don’t know why you’re so worked up, Josh. If I didn’t know any better I would say you’re acting a bit jealous. Or threatened, maybe?” you pause, tapping your finger to your chin. “Yeah, I think threatened is the right word. Are you nervous little Sammy is gonna steal your spotlight and your girl?”

“Steal my spotlight?” he responds, scoffing. It’s clear you hit a nerve there. “You need to learn when to keep your mouth shut. Especially when it comes to things you know nothing about.”

“I know how many people were bumping elbows with him tonight, talking about his upcoming projects, barely even asking about the album. He’s got his own career now.” you double down, narrowing your eyes at him, twisting the knife. He steps closer to you, his nostrils flaring as he takes a deep breath. You know he’s about to lay into you for that.

“You should be grateful I even let you tag along to these fucking things.” he snaps, his voice raising. “You know, there’s a hell of a lot you should be grateful for, now that I think of it. Do you know how easy it would be for me to find a nice, quiet girl who waits patiently for me to come home and doesn’t spend every waking moment reminding me of my shortcomings?”

You don’t like the direction he’s taking this, and you’re realizing you may have pushed him a little too far.

“I could go down the line and pick any one I wanted, but I still come home to you. And this is what I have to put up with?”

“So do it then! Go ahead and take your pick!” you shout, throwing your hands in the air. His cheeks grow red, and his eyes narrow.

“But you won’t, will you Josh... Because you know that not a single one of them will stick around once they find out how you really are. When they find themselves home alone night after night. When you don’t speak to them for days at a time when you’re writing or on the road. When you miss their birthday… and every major holiday for that matter. When they find out that your idea of love and romance is having your assistant buy hush gifts you can’t be bothered to choose yourself. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s the one texting me from your phone, too!”

He slams his fist down on the dining table, his keys rattling against the wood. “That is not true, and you know it!”

“But it is, and you know who puts up with it? Me, because I love you. And I can promise that you’ll be hard pressed to find someone else who is willing to deal with all of that.”

“Dare me?” he challenges, wincing slightly as the pressure builds in his ear.

“I don’t know Josh, is that what you want? Wouldn’t say I’d be surprised with how you’ve been acting lately.” you say, pushing away from the kitchen table and walking further into the house.

“How I’ve been acting lately?” he scoffs, following after you, hot on your heels.

“Yeah! Like I’m such a burden to bear. Like you’d rather I wasn’t here. I’m practically your glorified assistant, or arm candy when you feel like dragging me along.”

You start to climb the stairs toward your bedroom, needing to get out of your dress and away from him. Unfortunately, Josh isn’t one to ever let you have the last word, and he starts bounding up the staircase after you.

“Is that what this is about? You’re still mad you had to bring me to the doctor? God forbid I ask you to do something besides complain and spend my money. I needed your help, because if you haven’t noticed, something pretty serious happened to me, but for some reason you won’t stop giving me a hard fucking time about it!” That comment about the money stops you in your tracks, leaving you glaring down at him on the step below you.

“It’s not about your money and it’s not about me having to help you. It’s about you not giving a shit about how I feel and blowing me off when I try to tell you. All I want is for you to care! Have we grown so far apart that seeing me upset doesn’t even phase you anymore?”

Josh runs his tongue over his teeth as he tries to conjure up a response. He steps up so he’s on the landing with you, a little bit of silence settling over you both.

“And you thought…” he starts, looking out the window behind you for a moment, then back to your eyes. “You thought the way to get me to care… was to behave like a little slut?”

The energy suddenly shifts between you. You know that in the silence, he must have had a realization that he’s not meeting your needs. You feel your mouth go a little dry and you take a step backwards, reaching to hold on to the railing.

“I–”

“You know what I think…” he says, moving closer, caging you in with his arms. “I think that I’ve been gone too long…” his breath is hot on your cheeks. “I think you’re due for an attitude adjustment.”

Your breath catches in your throat as you grip into the bannister. You swallow nervously, as his hand moves to meet your satin covered waist. “Yeah, I think I need to remind you just how good you have it, don’t I sweetheart?”

The words are there, swirling through your head but as his eyes peer into yours, nothing seems to come out.

“S’matter, baby? Nothin’ to say suddenly? No smart ass remarks? I’m right, aren’t I? You need me to fuck some sense into you?” he growls, his fingers gripping into the curve of your waist. He nods his head in the direction of your bedroom, a crooked smirk on his face.

“Go ahead and take off your earrings, baby. Get out of that unbecoming little dress and wait for me on the bed.” he says softly, rubbing a thumb over the apple of your cheek before walking off and locking himself in the bathroom.

The cocktail of emotions your brain is floating in has you dizzy. You want to be angry at him, but you’re starting to feel a little embarrassed as you think back on how you acted at dinner. Part of you wants to cry, his harsh words hitting you where he knew it would hurt, but another is so turned on by the way he just flipped the switch on the entire emotionally charged exchange.

You shuffle into your shared bedroom, sitting gingerly at your vanity and taking off all of your jewelry. As you take off your rings, you stare at the earrings and necklace in your porcelain dish, remembering when he had gifted each piece to you. Maybe it’s not that he doesn’t care how long or how often he’s away…he just doesn’t know how to make it better. So he sends you trinkets from wherever he visits, reminding you that you’re on his mind. Your heart lurches as you realize that maybe all he wanted while he was away from home was a quiet dinner with you, his love, at Phil’s, and that’s why he didn’t take you out to an expensive steakhouse where you would undoubtedly sit awkwardly across from each other and make conversation. He wanted comfort. He wanted what he knows no other woman can give him.

You hear the water start to run, which zaps you back into the moment. Standing from the velvet upholstered stool, you head for the walk-in closet and try to reach for the zipper on your dress. You can’t exactly get to it, stretching to try and pinch the zipper between your fingers. The bathroom door opens and you whip your head around, knowing he’s going to come looking for you.

It’s only seconds before you feel his warm hands gliding across your hips, no doubt knowing you need his help with the zipper. Perhaps that’s why he purchased the dress to begin with. Knowing he would be the one to help you take it off. He moves your hair, laying it all to one side of your neck before pressing his lips to your skin. His fingers pinch the small zipper as he slides it down, letting the silk dress flutter down around your ankles.

“Tell me you know that I love you.” he breathes, his lips brushing against your neck.

“I know you love me.” you answer, breathless as your chest heaves.

His hands slide around to your bare stomach, pulling your body back until you’re flush with his own. “Now, tell me you’ll remember that.”

“I’ll remember.” you whisper, feeling him long and hard as he rests against your back.

He grabs your hips and spins you around to face him, cupping your cheeks in his hands. “Good, because I’m about to fuck you like I don’t.”

A gasp leaves your chest as your eyes meet his, dark and blown out. He drags his thumb over your lips, smearing the remnants of your pink lipstick across your chin. “Now get on the bed like I told you the first time.”

Reluctantly pulling away from him, you make your way back into the bedroom, kneeling on the bed, sitting on your heels. You nervously cover your chest with your hands, the room feeling a little cold all of the sudden. He steps into the room, his hand lingering on the doorframe.

“Move your hands,” he says, his voice quiet but stern. “You wanted the entire dinner table to see them. Why can’t I?”

Your cheeks burn red as you lower your hands to your lap. He approaches, his eyes scanning every inch of you like he’s appraising you.

“He didn’t touch you, did he?” he asks, pushing your hair behind your ear. “My brother?”

You quickly start to shake your head. Maybe a little too quickly. You watch him with careful eyes as he lets his hand gently graze your throat, then move further down, the gears in his head turning.

“I bet you wanted him to, though…” he adds, pinching at your nipple teasingly, wanting a reaction. You take in a sharp breath between your teeth.

“No.” you say defensively.

“You like Sam because he’s so sweet. He cares. That’s what you want, right? Someone to wipe away your tears when you cry about meaningless shit? You know that’s his specialty.”

“I don’t like Sam. I just wanted–”

“Save it.” Josh snaps, grabbing harshly at your cheeks to shut you up. He stares at you for a moment before placing a gentle kiss to your squished lips. He pulls away quickly, but doesn’t release his grip on your cheeks.

“If you want to act like a little whore, I’m going to treat you like one. If I want to hear you speak, I’ll tell you.”

He pushes you backwards as he releases his hand, landing you in the pile of soft feather pillows behind you. He stands up from the bed, shimmying off his boxers before crawling back onto the bed in front of you. His eyes meet yours and for a second there is a softness there, almost as if he is asking if you’re okay with this. You offer him a subtle nod before he lowers his head and begins to drag his nose up the length of your leg.

“Did you have fun tonight, flitting around the place, drink in hand, practically begging to be fucked in the bathroom? Hm? Is that what you wanted?” he asks, pressing a hot kiss to the inside of your thigh.

You squirm beneath him as the filthy words leave his angelic lips. “Did you want him to take you away and fuck your stupid little brains out? Answer me.”

“No.” you reply, desperate to feel his lips on your body. “I… I wanted…” you stammer, your bravery leaving you with every shaky breath. He places an open mouthed kiss to your mound, but freezes once your words trail off.

“You never stop talking, but now you’re at a loss for words? Fucking say it, Y/N.”

“I wanted you!” you cry out, your head falling back onto your pillow, a heavy sigh leaving your chest. He squeezes the softness of your thigh before he speaks.

“And you really thought that would work?” he asks, nipping at your soft skin, chuckling quietly. “You’re dumber than I thought.”

You feel your skin grow hot at his words, your hips jerking upwards on their own accord.

“You like that, don’t you? You like it when I call you my stupid little girl?” he asks, sucking a mark into your thigh. “My dumb little brat?”

A whine leaves your chest as you feel his tongue slowly start to slide through your folds.

He pulls away from you, “Ah, ah… Be quiet, remember? I know it’s hard for you to do as you’re told, but if I have to remind you again you aren’t going to like what happens.”

You stifle your moan and move your hips as his hands hold you in place, his tongue reconnecting with your core as he makes slow, languid laps against you. “Did I leave this pretty pussy too long? Does she miss me and need my attention?”

He moves his hands to let his thumbs spread you further, swirling his tongue over your clit. “I think she misses me so bad that it’s got you acting crazy, my love.” His lips suction against you, sucking you into his mouth with a lewd slurp. His hands slide up to your hips, pulling you closer to his face. His tongue grazes your entrance, dipping in just long enough to tease you. He presses a kiss to your clit before pulling away again.

“You must be crazy if you think my brother could do even half of what I do to you. No one, no one, treats this pussy like I do. Worships this pussy like I do.”

“Josh…” you whine, the word leaving your lips before you could stop it.

You feel a sharp flick to your clit and you cry out, your body jumping in response.

“I told you that you wouldn’t like it.” he says, pressing a kiss to your sensitive clit, as if to soothe the pain he inflicted. You feel a rush of warmth at your core, your body responding positively to his actions.

“Oh, baby, fuck…” he groans, sliding his fingers thorough the wetness. “But you do like it. You love it.” He pauses, locking eyes with you. “Answer me.”

“I–Yes…” you breathe, feeling his smile against your core.

“My dirty, sweet, baby likes a little pain with her pleasure.” he growls, sliding a finger inside of you. You clench around it, desperate for more. “Yeah? More? You want two or three?” he asks, his eyes flicking to yours.

“T-Three.” you beg, breathless as you feel him slide in two more.

His lips find your clit again, suckling the sensitive nub into his mouth, rolling his tongue over it again and again as his fingers work you from the inside. The pressure is growing and you know you’re close. He must feel you fluttering around him, so he pulls his fingers and mouth away from you quicker than you can blink.

“Nu-uh. Not until I say so, and I do believe I’d like to get mine first tonight... You know, for my troubles.”

A huff leaves your chest as you look at him, sitting back up to rest on his heels.

“You know baby, I think I’m feelin’ a little reckless tonight...I’m thinkin’ maybe we skip the condom, what do you say?”

Your eyes widen in surprise, Josh always having been completely adamant that you use protection. Always. Despite being on birth control. You can count the number of times you’ve gone without a condom on one hand over the three years you’ve been together.

“Are–Are you sure?” you ask.

“Yeah, I think you need the full effect… need to really feel me so you can remember your place. Remember why you count down the days until I come home.” he says, fisting his base.

“Although,” he says thoughtfully before pausing. “… if I’m going to fuck you like a whore, I’m gonna have to wear one. Standard procedure, you understand…” he mumbles, reaching over to his nightstand and pulling a silver foil package from the drawer. You feel your heart drop as he rips it out of the package and effectively rips the opportunity away from you. A quiet, disappointed whine leaves your throat.

He clicks his tongue as he watches your face drop, “Aw, what is it? Did you want my cock?” he asks, a smug grin on his face. “If you behaved yourself I probably would have given you what you wanted. It’s a shame, really.”

“Please…” you whine, hoping he doesn’t notice the tears in the corners of your eyes.

“Oh she’s begging for it. God, you really are so sweet when you want to be.” he says, rolling the condom over his cock.

“Josh come on, please!” it’s a pathetic whine as it leaves your mouth, but you don’t care.

His hand collides with the side of your hip, a loud smack ringing through the room. “Don’t be a little brat. You’ll take what you’re given.”

A whimper leaves your lips as the sting sets in. “That hu—”

“What? Hurt? That’s typically the point, love.” Your hips jerk up towards him, his abs peeking through as he leans towards you. “Now, do you understand?”

You nod your head as he lowers his, pressing his lips to yours. His perfect heart shaped lips capture yours, his tongue pressing into your mouth with fervor. Your hands come up to wrap around his waist, his skin soft and smooth beneath your hands. You feel his muscles tense under your touch as he ruts his hips, dragging himself against you, the sound of the latex audible as you try to angle yourself so he’ll slip inside you.

“So impatient…” he chides, sucking his teeth as he hovers his lips just above yours. He decides to take mercy on you, letting himself start to slide inside with ease. You cup his cheek, kissing him tenderly, a silent thank you. You feel the heat building in your abdomen again, half the battle won after the way he edged you previously.

“Does that feel good, sweet thing?” he asks, pushing in to the hilt before slowly pulling out again. “You gonna settle down now that you’re feeling nice and full?” he asks, and you respond with a shake of your head. “No?” he questions, surprised. He fucks into you slowly, deeply. You feel every inch of him that you’ve missed… but it’s not the same.

“No…I wanted you to take it off…” you whine. He shakes his head, a little chuckle leaving him.

“You’re in no place to make demands. I’m gonna get mine, toss it in the trash, and leave you wishing it was dripping down your thigh. And if you’re smart, you’ll say thank you.”

You feel yourself clench around him at his cruel words, making him smirk. So he carries on, picking up his pace as he grips into the softness of your thighs.

“But you’re not, are you?” he taunts, lowering his head to kiss and suck at your collarbone. “Can’t be if you pretended to be interested in my idiot brother. You’re mine. What do I have to do to get it to stick in that little brain of yours?”

You whisper his name, closing your eyes as your cheeks turn pink, his insults both embarrassing you and bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

“I told you I’m getting mine first. Don’t make me tell you again,” he warns, his palm landing on the pillow next to your head as he rests his weight and increases his range of motion. As he moves faster, his thrusts become more brutal as he starts to knock the wind out of you. It’s getting harder to keep yourself from losing it, your thighs starting to quiver.

He feels it, because he always does, but you can tell by the look on his face he doesn’t want to stop. He curses breathlessly and pulls out, his hand leaving your hip and moving down to stroke himself, but he lets out a grunt and pushes up to sit on his heels, looking down at himself.

“...Fuck.”

He wraps his arm under your thigh and tugs you closer, urgently, and sheathes himself inside so quickly you cry out.

“Oh, baby. You feel like fucking velvet.” he moans, his head falling back, his moans bouncing off the ceiling. When he pulls back, something feels… different. “Looks like you got what you wanted after all…”

He sits back again and pulls out of you, resting his hands on his thighs as he takes a deep breath like he needs to get himself under control. Sitting up on your elbows, you look down at him between your thighs to see the condom has not just broken, but torn. It’s more than halfway down his shaft, which explains why he felt so slick and warm inside you.

“Oh…” you say softly, your lips parting. You stare at him above you, his chest rising and falling, his eyes heavy as they lock onto yours. He lifts one hand, motioning you forward with two fingers, and you know exactly what he wants.

“On your knees.”

You don’t hesitate to roll onto your side and stand from the bed, dropping to your knees with your hands in your lap. He watches as you go, waiting until you’re in position to stand himself and approach, raking his hand through your hair almost affectionately. You keep your eyes on him, the way he’s hard and straining against the useless condom.

“Does being on your knees hurt, little slut? Or is that right where you belong?” he asks, resting the tip of his cock against your lips. “Open.”

You stick out your tongue, dragging it against the bottom of his tip.

“More.” he demands, pushing his hips forward. You open your mouth wider as you move to reach up and touch him, but he immediately tells you, “No.”

Your eyes look up at him, brows furrowing in curiosity as you question silently whether or not he’s going to take the condom off.

It’s sudden and shocking when he answers your question, grabbing the back of your head and shoving himself in deep. You feel him against your tongue, tasting the lube and feeling the latex on the front end of your tongue.

He starts to thrust so quickly, you reach for his thighs to try and push him back. He doesn’t seem to care, almost relishing in your struggle, his fist tightening in your hair. As a gag works its way up your throat, he pulls you off of him, gasping for air, saliva dripping down your chin and neck.

“How’s it taste, baby?” he asks, tugging your hair, making you look up at him through bleary eyes, trying to catch your breath. As you open your mouth to answer, he fists himself, shoving himself back into your mouth. You gag immediately and he pulls out, your mouth open as you try to breathe. He doesn’t let you, though, grabbing your jaw and spitting directly into your open mouth.

“You better think twice before you complain.”

You snap your jaw shut, swallowing thickly, your eyes popping back open to look up at him in shock. He gives you a crooked smile, pleased with the way he’s managed to throw you off. It only encourages him as you look up at him with wide eyes and try to catch your breath. He quirks a single brow, then runs his tongue over his teeth.

“Nothing to say?” he asks, challenging you. You shake your head once.

He pushes the head of himself back inside your mouth, then spits again, making you flinch as it lands on your cheek. You squeeze your eyes closed, intending to hollow out your cheeks and suck, but he pulls himself out with a pop and drags his cock through the spit on your face, chuckling.

“You’re starting to smarten up.” he mumbles. “Little brat.”

He taps the tip of his cock harshly against your lips and you can see the wheels spinning in his head as he plans his next move. “Back on the bed, all fours.” he says, snapping his fingers and pointing to the center of the bed.

You immediately pull yourself from your aching knees and scramble onto the bed, positioning yourself on all fours, just as instructed. You feel the bed dip behind you and you turn your head, seeing the remnants of the condom still intact around him. He makes no effort to remove it, wearing it like a trophy as his hands find your hips. His left hand slides up the curve of your back before pressing a palm to your spine, a silent order to arch a little further.

“You’re trembling. You want it so bad don’t you…” he growls, his tip brushing against your entrance. “Want to feel my nice warm cock inside you…Nothing but me and you…You’d like that wouldn’t you, baby…”

“Yes.” you breathe, almost a whisper.

“I shouldn’t…I should put a new one on right now.” he says, the clench of his jaw audible.

He thrusts himself inside of you, the barrier of latex gone between the two of you, letting you feel every ripple and vein of his perfect cock inside of you. It nearly takes your breath away as his hips slam into you. A groan leaves his chest as his hands grip into your hips, and you can feel his hot breath on your back.

His hips crash violently into yours, his pillow soft tip grazing your cervix with every stroke. He’s struggling to keep his composure, it's evident with his erratic breathing and the stuttering of his hips.

You clench around him, a whimper falling from his lips in response, briefly breaking the facade he’s chosen for the evening. “Fuck, Y/N… I– I fucking hate you. You drive me fucking crazy, you know that?”

A pang shoots through your chest, you feel the tension in your stomach start to build as you flutter around him. “I hate that I can’t live without you. I hate how much I love you. You–I can’t deny you anything…Not ever…” he pauses, his chest heaving. “Can’t you see that?”

“Josh…” you beg through panting breaths.

“Not yet, you’re gonna wait. Wait until I say, yeah? Can you wait like my good girl?” he says, struggling to stave off his own release.

“I– I can’t…” you whine.

“You will.” he demands, punctuating his sentence with his hips. “Fuck, you feel so good, swear to god I’m gonna– fuck…”

“Josh please, please!” you beg, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

“My little slut begging to cum, oh you’re a fucking vision… My angel…” he pauses, sliding his hand around your waist and pinching your nipple between his fingers. You tighten around him and you hear him hiss in response. “Oh goddamn, you’re not a fucking angel though, are you… You’re straight from hell.”

His hips start to falter, and you can tell he’s close. You turn your head to look at him, his hair wild and sweaty against his temples, his jaw hanging slack as he watches himself fuck you. His eyes flick up to meet yours, they are dark and his pupils are wide as a slight smile turns his lips.

“I know I said I was going to get mine first, but you’ve been such a good girl for me. Go on, cum baby. Cum right on my cock, wanna feel you give yourself to me.” he says, nodding his head.

His permission throws you right up into the sky, your release washing over you so forcefully that your arms give out below you, sending you tumbling into the sheets. His hands hold you up as he continues to fuck you through it, curses and praise falling from his swollen pink lips.

As if your bliss fueled his own, you feel him pull your hips back firmly against him, a groan exploding from his chest once he can’t hold on any longer. You feel his cock twitching, his release beginning to spill inside of you as your name falls from his lips. You clench around him and he rapidly pulls out of you, fisting his cock as his cum continues to spill, painting hot white streams across your back.

The room is quiet, just the sounds of the two of you attempting to catch your breath. His hand slides up over the curve of your ass, his fingertips catching a drip of his cum before it falls to the sheets below you. His hand reaches around smearing his fingers across your lips, and you can hear him snickering as he leaves his release behind. “A much better shade on you, darling.”

With a smack of your ass you feel him step off of the bed, padding towards the bathroom. “Stay there, don’t move. I don’t want a mess on the sheets.”

You stay put, frozen as you lean down on your elbows and rest your chin in your palm. He comes back out of the bathroom a moment later in his robe and saunters to the stairs. You hear his footsteps slowly descending the steps, the occasional squeak indicating how far away he is.

You figure he’s heading to get you a towel from the dryer, so you just sigh and bide your time, feeling the wetness on your back start to get a little cold as the air moves through the room. In the silence, you hear a cabinet opening… then a cup being placed on the counter. Your lips part in shock as you realize he’s downstairs making a drink while he leaves you here, messy and exposed. The cherry on top of the punishment he’s dealt you this evening.

It’s a good, long while before he comes back up the stairs, again, at a leisurely pace. He softly pads across the room, then steps into your line of sight, putting a mug down on the nightstand. He made himself a cup of tea?

You sigh, looking at him flatly, a little tired of the game at this point. He steps into the bathroom again, this time reemerging with a warm, wet towel. He approaches the bed and kneels over you, gently wiping you clean as silence settles over you both.

“I made you some tea. In case I was a little rough on your throat.” he says quietly. “I figured I owe you a drink after throwing yours into the bushes.” His tone conveys that he’s remorseful, his voice back to its unique, charming timbre. “Listen, I didn’t mean to get so… worked up. You were right when you said I was threatened by Sam, and I just kind of lost control.”

You hum softly, resting your head on the pillow and looking at him over your shoulder, your eyes soft and tired.

“I’m sorry I pushed you that far…” you say quietly, your voice hoarse. He tosses the towel towards the hamper, standing from the bed. He leans down and places a kiss to your temple as you lay all the way down, just as your back starts to hurt.

You hear him opening your dresser drawer and soon enough he’s back at your side, placing a set of silky, cream colored pajamas and a pair of underwear near your head. He kneels at your bedside, resting his head on the bed to look at you where you lay.

“I picked these out for you when we were in Glasgow. There was this little boutique near the hotel that caught my eye. It was after dinner one night and I tried to call you but the time difference was making a mess of things…I couldn’t get ahold of you and I was just feeling lonely… so I took a walk and decided to pop in. I saw them and thought of you immediately. Thought of how they’d feel when I got back home and in bed with you.” he confesses, petting your hair the whole time he speaks. There’s almost a sadness to this story that makes guilt bubble up in your chest. You accused him of never calling, rarely thinking of you, and sending his assistant off to buy you meaningless gifts. The thought of him hand picking it for you while he was feeling lonely thousands of miles away breaks your heart.

“I’m sorry I said all that stuff. About the gifts. That was admittedly pretty awful of me.” you squeak out, feeling ashamed of the way you acted and who you painted him to be. “I’ve been really hard on you.”

“Hard on me?” he asks, a breathy laugh rumbling through him.

“I just… I haven’t been really considerate about your ear and the stress you’re under and I think I’ve been feeling neglected in a way, so instead of trying to fix it, it was just easier to put all of the blame on you and lose sight of the sacrifices you make for me every day. For us.”

He shakes his head, unwilling to let you accept all the blame. “I haven’t exactly made things easy on you…” he says, his voice a little small. “I think–no, I know I can do more. I will do more. I fucked up yesterday baby, and I’m sorry. I should have planned something nice. You deserve that. And I’m sorry about tonight, fuck, I’m just sorry for all of it. I love you and I need you and I’m just really, really sorry.”

He stands from his place on the side of the bed, watching you as you slide into your silky pajamas. He tosses his robe to your vanity chair and joins you on the other side of the bed, pulling back the linen sheets and sliding in next to you.

“I’m sorry too. I’m sorry I was a brat, and I’m sorry I used Sam to get under your skin. I just– I wanted your attention…and I know it was stupid and immature… I just needed to know you still cared, even just a little bit. I wanted to see it.” you pause, looking into his dark brown eyes.

“And last night, you just wanted a night in and I was…less than agreeable. I wish we could do it over. You just wanted your comfort food and your favorite movie, home alone with me…but I couldn’t see that. I know you’re hurting. I know you’re doing your best and I’m sorry I was ungrateful. I’m happy that you were even home. I’m happy I can take care of you while you’re here.” you say, moving closer to him in the middle of the bed. “I missed you last night…”

He props himself up on his elbow, his cheeks still a little pink from earlier, and in the dim light of the lamp he is glowing. “I missed you too baby, I knew I fucked up before I even got out of the room. I should have never said that to you. Not ever. Can you forgive me?” he asks, letting his free hand slide across the sheets and grab yours.

“Can you forgive me?” you ask, letting your glassy eyes meet his.

“Baby…” the word is a breath from his lips. You reach for him as he wraps his arms around you. You cradle his head in the crook of your neck as he breathes you in and you know all is forgiven between the two of you. You scratch his scalp and pet his velvety shaved sides, holding him close enough that you can feel his heart beating.

“Can I make you that soup you like tomorrow? With the kale and the carrots…” you ask, a whisper against his temple. You feel him nod, a small hum leaving his chest.

“And I still have that sourdough starter that Jake gave us… I can make some bread with it? Does that sound good?” you ask, feeling his grip on you tighten.

“Oh my god, that starter. Have you been feeding it like he said!? I completely forgot!” he gasps.

You laugh hard enough that it shakes your chest, “Of course I have. He would be so sad if I let it die.”

You feel his body relax against you again, “Do you know how much I love you?” he asks, turning his head to face you.

You feel your skin blush as he looks at you, his eyes full of adoration. “A lot?”

“More than that.” he smiles, his cheek dimple peeking out just a touch. You can hardly stop yourself from pressing your lips to it, your favorite thing.

“I love you, alot.” you reply, peppering his face with kisses.

“But there is something that I want to talk to you about…” he says, his voice growing a little more serious.

“W-what?” you ask nervously, pulling away just a little.

“I know you’ve been so excited about coming to Spain in a few weeks…And I’ve really been looking forward to it too…” he starts, and you feel your heart drop. Is it canceled? Does he not want you to come?

“Yeah…” you breathe, anxious to hear what he’s about to say.

“So, you know it’s been a long time since we’ve toured over there, and our normal coordinator isn’t able to make it, so we are using a secondary coordinator…It really throws a wrench into everything. Things are going to be really shaky those first few days with the jet lag and all of that. I just– I know that it’s gonna be super crazy, and I feel like we probably won’t be able to spend much time together while we get the tour stuff sorted out.” he pauses, and you feel your eyes well with tears. “I just don’t want you to come and feel ignored...”

“So I’m not–”

His face softens as he brings his hand up to cup your cheek, “So, I went ahead and booked us flights to go a whole week early, just me and you. Found us a quiet little place on the water right outside of Barcelona. It has a big open porch and a giant bed. It’s so beautiful and I know you’re going to love it. We can do whatever you want, just you and I.” He kisses your forehead before he continues.

“And before you ask, yes, your boss already knows. I wanted to surprise you when we left, but I figured you would be suspicious that the rest of the guys wouldn’t be with us in the airport. I was planning to tell you tonight when we got home, but we saw what happened…” he smiles, his eyes positively sparkling. “So, how does that sound, my love? Will you come with me?”

Tears rush to your eyes. You were so prepared to be disappointed again that they were already on their way and this sealed the deal.

“That sounds so perfect,” you manage to squeak out as he wipes away an errant tear sliding down towards your pillow. When he pulls you in for a tender kiss, you can feel him smiling against your lips. “My coworkers are going to kill me for going on a two week vacation during tax season…”

“I’m sure they’ll be okay.” he says, brushing it off with a soft laugh. “They probably ate your strawberries yesterday, so you can call it even.” You suck your teeth at that, lips parting in shock.

“They better not have! I’m out for one day and the wolves descend?”

“I’m sure they’ll be there waiting for you Monday.” He soothes, pulling the sheets and comforter up higher over the both of you, pulling you in close as his little spoon. “But just in case… Maybe we can get some melting chocolate at the store tomorrow and make our own for dessert?” he mumbles softly.

“Oh, I’d love that…” you say, pleasantly surprised at his effort already. He holds you tight, nuzzling into your hair. His hands are soft and warm as they sneak up under the silky pajamas, a comforting touch after so many nights spent in this bed alone.

“It’s a date, my love.”

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aurekiwi · 3 months

Text

𝖇𝖙𝖘 𝖎𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖑 𝖙𝖞𝖕𝖊

𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐤𝐢𝐰𝐢 || 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

𝐑𝐌 Five of Cups, The Empress, The Judgment His ideal type is someone who definitely has their own faults but is mature and wise enough to recognize that and work through them. Someone who is well-dressed, well-groomed, has a nice figure, and works hard to lived a fulfilled life. He also likes someone who is nurturing, warm, and kind, as well as someone who may be quite good with kids. Someone reasonable with a level head on their shoulders so that he is able to talk out misunderstandings and arguments with them. He really values fairness and therefore would be attracted to someone who is fair as well. Someone who strives to be a good person and would be willing to help out those who aren't as fortunate. Someone he feels has a common outlook and drive in life as him. I think that mental and intellectual stimulation is very important for him. 𝐉𝐢𝐧 Nine of Wands, Temperance, Three of Cups, The Hierophant, Wheel of Fortune, The Emperor His ideal type is someone who is very resilient. He holds respect for those who don't complain and instead focus their energy on what needs to be done and what they want to be done. He likes someone who has a balanced and stable energy and aura to them. This also reminds me of someone who does not drink or smoke too much, they don't go out partying or clubbing all the time. They are reserved and polite, and they work to offer balance and stability in others' lives as well. He also finds it attractive when someone can truly be happy for the people they care about instead of getting jealous. In his general lifestyle, he might've faced a lot of scrutiny by people he considered as "friends" because of their jealousy for his success. He believes those who are able to truly celebrate others' successes and happiness are great people. He wants someone who has the same spiritual beliefs or mindset as him in life because if their personal ideals clash, he sees no use in trying to make a relationship continue when it clearly won't. I also think he believes in the idea of fate(?) or at least in some type of religious connotation surrounding fate where he believes the person he is meant to be with will appear to him one day and he will recognize that. He believes in providing and in security. He will lead and will most likely desire someone who is also willing to be led, but also has the courage to lead when the situation calls for it. He values maturity and mutual respect.

𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀 Eight of Cups, The World, Ten of Pentacles, Two of Cups He says he doesn't much of a defined ideal type? But he does have some qualities that he would be attracted to in a person. He likes someone who is capable of understanding when to hold onto a situation and when to leave it, as in someone who isn't overly stubborn. Sometimes, when you're too stubborn and blind yourself from seeing the reality of your situation, you're just wasting your time and energy on something that just won't work out for you. Someone logical and understanding would be able to see that they might have to move on from something whether they like it or not, and he admires that ability because he still has to work on that too. He also likes someone who is stable and accomplished. Someone who is old and mature enough to have their own established career and has overcome their own unique obstacles. I think he finds people's personal stories very interesting and hearing about how a person has reached their own sense of fulfillment and completion will be something that amazes him and catches his interests. He also wants someone who is financially stable and is independent so that they are capable of managing their own finances. Also someone who he believes would be very fulfilling and nice to be with. He values mutual understanding, communication, and intimacy, as well as equality within a relationship. He will care for his loved one, but that doesn't mean it can be only him. He expects his partner to do the same for him in their own way. This might be something he pays attention to a lot. He has reached an age where he understand people's intentions and see their true core personalities. 𝐉-𝐇𝐨𝐩𝐞 The Lovers, Page of Cups, Queen of Swords His ideal type is someone who is very honest and open with him. He values people who are capable of being vulnerable. He wants depth and understanding because he is a private person and it takes him time to truly open up to someone. He would be attracted to someone who understands that and provides him space while also reminding him that he is not completely alone and can reach out when he needs support. He also really values trust and communication. He thinks that is the foundation of any relationship he would have with anyone around him. He is also attracted to people who are intuitive with their own creative side and outlet! As a dancer, dancing is his own creative outlet and he might find that he can truly express himself in his own artistic way. Observing someone else do that might be something he desires. I see him observing someone as they do something they love to do passionately and him just kind of falling in love with that person's love for what they do and their tenacity to keep at it. He might also be attracted to someone who might seem a bit cold, closed off, and detached. Someone who is wise and smart and would look through your bullsh*t. Someone who knows when to let things pass and when to confront. I'm sensing an overall very balanced person who would understand him.

𝐉𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐧 The Emperor, The Hierophant, Knight of Wands, Five of Wands, The Lovers Jimin may want to be a provider within the relationship. He really wants to be a good person to lean on for those he loves. I get reminded of quality time and acts of service from him in this reading. Instead of what his ideal type would be, he instead focuses on what he is capable of providing to those he loves and whether someone would be compatible with that or not. Though he might not seem like it, he does like taking the lead when he has the opportunity to do so. He has lots of clarity on himself and what he wants to do. He likes providing lots of guidance to those around him, so a lot of times, he might find himself being the person that people reach out to for advice. I sense that he is a very passionate person and when he decides he likes something, he will go for it. I think he would be attracted to someone with similar qualities as well, where they're very passionate and free-spirited about life. If he feels trapped, then it's like his partner would be the one to remind him that the world is big and he is still small no matter how much he might feel he is big at times. I feel lots of impulsiveness, like going on random late night dates to the movies, lots of laughter- he envisions a type of fun and exciting relationship like that but doesn't really feel like it's a part of his reality at the moment. I think he has had pretty intense fights before and he doesn't hold back when he's extremely angry (he's scary when he's mad). He thinks it's a natural part of a relationship and would like someone who is capable of doing the same. Someone who is able to express their anger and talk about what bothers them to him. He wants balance, he wants honesty, and he wants to communicate. He wants to own up to his shortcomings and would appreciate it if people can just bring it up to him without feeling scared or intimidated about how he would react. He is an open-minded person and would therefore expect people around him to be the same way, or at least strive to be the same way. 𝐕 Six of Cups, Ten of Wands I had Stigma start playing immediately in my head as soon as I held my card deck for his portion. He really misses his childhood and specifically his childhood self. He was molded into who he is today by force. He had to cater to the opinions of those around him and thus his inner child has always been neglected and hurt. He would be attracted to someone who is positive, bright, and playful. He wants someone who unintentionally reminds him of his past self and what his younger self had to offer to the world. He is attracted to someone who can really show him they can be his forever because he is tired of working through things alone and tired of relationships failing for whatever reason. He want someone to see his soft side and appreciate him for who he is, not who he should be or who they want him to be. He wants to be heard and understood. He wants to be taken care of and showered with lots of love and support. He wants a companion who is lover. He wants to be care-free again like he used to be, but he understands that that is not possible now and he is learning to deal with it. I just feel lots of sadness coming from him and I honestly feel for him... it must suck sometimes.

𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 Queen of Wands, Knight of Cups, Ace of Cups, Four of Wands The 180 switch up between Jungkook's and V's energy is absolutely insane! It went from Stigma soft and quiet to Standing Next You loud, fiery, and passionate. JK wants someone social, talkative, and fun to be around. Someone smart and sexy, enjoys life as it is rather than being conquered by hard moments. I don't know why, but I need to put this here- he is into someone who is a bit unconventional? This person wouldn't exactly fit into Korean standards. He likes a bit of weirdness because he's tired of standards and the insanity that he has seen of people trying to fit them. He likes confidence, a healthy body and soul. I see eyes and they're shiny and bright! Full of curiosity, excitement, and eager to see what's coming next. JK also likes it when someone is romantic, showers him with love and lots of cute words. He does this as well, so he would be attracted to someone who is able to reciprocate. Talented, artistic, and creative. Very intuitive. I think he prefers someone who has an artistic side to them whether that be music, art, writing, or something else. He really likes someone with the Ace of Cups energy- lots of love and creativity, lots of them to offer. Original, kind, soft, and warm. Lots of duality! The Four of Wands reminds me of joyful celebration and union. I think he believes in fate and union. He wants that feeling of "Ah.. this is the one, this is who I'm meant to be with." He fully believes that there is someone out there for him. I also keep hearing "four leaf clover" as well as a vision of a fresh four leaf clover growing in nature. I also hear Japanese Denim by Daniel Caesar, "You're my four leaf clover / I'm so in love, so in love." Not entirely sure what it means but I'll include it here.

#aurekiwi #kpop tarot #bts tarot

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anathemafiction · 1 year

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Jealousy — Part One

The tavern isn't full, so even as he stares intensely at the beer, convincing himself that it's the most interesting thing he has ever witnessed, he can still make out your shape in the corner of his eye. You're so silent and still. Hadrian wonders...

He glances at you again.

Hadrian tries to make himself small. He ducks his head, hunches his shoulders, and scoots harder against the corner of the wall as if he can disappear in the shadows. But, for all his efforts, Hadrian thinks you wouldn't notice him even if he was shouting bloody murder. Your fingers play absentmindedly with the handle of your tankard while your eyes are dead set on the counter. Your mouth is pressed in a pensive line, and never before has Hadrian seen someone physically there but so obviously far away.

You're in a world of your own, and Hadrian shouldn't pry, but he can't help but wonder what it is you're thinking of. He can't help the apprehension he feels at the absent look in your eyes and the grim lines on your face. He can't help the want to go to you and offer his company, as lacking as it may be.

Hadrian can't help but wonder—

"Orland, gimme the usual." A large, barreled-built man barges into his line of sight. He spoke to the bartender, but Hadrian can see his eyes are set on you. He stands just behind your chair with his belly touching the back of it, while his head is cocked to the side to peer down at you.

And now Hadrian's nails turn white when he sees his lips quirking in a leering smile. "And who are you?" the man speaks, setting his hand on the counter beside you. He's looming over you now, trapping you between his chest and the counter.

Fire spreads through his veins. Not so close.

You finally take note of the brute. Blinking, you snap out from whatever thoughts held you, and slowly lift your head to look at the man. His smile turns wider when you exchange glances, and he leans even closer toward you. Hadrian doesn't know when he grabbed his cross, but he's squeezing it so hard that part of him fears the wood might crack.

He wants to go to you, but he shouldn’t. Lord in Heaven. You can deal with this. Maybe you want this. Who is Hadrian to meddle? Who is he to think that disgusting, rotten man shouldn't be within a mile of you, much less two feet apart? What right does Hadrian have?

"Never seen you around before," the man continues when it's clear you won't answer.

You look him up and down, your neutral face slowly morphing into one of... disdain. "You won't see me again," you say then, voice cold, and turn away from your seat.

And may God forgive him, but Hadrian has never been gladder. He smiles, relieved, and hopes that—

"Come now, no need ta be like that," the idiot presses. The man chuckles when you glare at him, and Hadrian's hand shakes on his cross. "Get to know me first, will ya?"

You roll your shoulders. "Fuck off."

The man's smile stiffens, and now his canines flash, and he's not smiling any longer. He's snarling. Hadrian half-rises from his chair, ears deaf to the world but you. "You stuck-up bitch/bastard. Look at me."

The man grabs you by the arm and yanks and beer spill everywhere when your tankard goes flying.

Hadrian is out of his chair before it hits the ground.

(…)

Alessa's eyes narrow into slits.

The sun burns bright, and its insistent rays guard the world behind their shine, but although she's almost made blind, Alessa would never miss you. The cobblestones sizzle, the distant walls of crumbling buildings oscillate in the heat, and you stand amongst the stalls of a busy market day.

Alessa quietly steps into the shadows, feeling the sweat already building at the back of her neck, and lightly rests her shoulder on a post. Her legs cross at the ankles, and while her hand plays with the rim of her belt, ears always listening for any threat, Alessa decides she shall take a moment to observe you.

Just one moment. One small indulgence.

You are bent over, inspecting the counter of a stall with a tall, red cloth arranged like a tent over the merchandise. Half of you is dipped in shadows, while the other lays under the merciless sun, but you do not seem to mind the heat as you take your time studying whatever it is they sell. Alessa's lips quirk on their own accord, but she decides not to fight the smile.

'Tis hard to see from a distance, but she bets you have scrunched your eyebrows as you always do whenever you are thinking hard. She can even imagine the slight press of your lips, and her eyes narrow even further against the rays of an inconvenient sun, but her smile grows wider.

Alessa taps her fingers on her elbow, the rings flashing in bands of gold and silver, and she ponders if perhaps, she should approach you. It is... frustrating how much she finds herself wanting to. Embarrassing would be an even better word. I am a fool. She inhales, blue eyes shifting toward the ground.

You would not know.

You would not know she was drawn to your company; you would simply assume she found you amongst the crowd. Perhaps she could walk nearby and wait until you took notice. The problem was, of course, if you then decided not to call for her. Alessa's lips twist as a sour taste invades her tongue. 'Twould be unfortunate indeed. It would—

She looks back up and sees you are alone no longer.

Seemingly appearing from the cobblestones, a woman suddenly stands beside you. She is tall and dark, and the sunshine covers the world, but her beauty manages to outshine even the brightest glow. Alessa cannot help but admire her long, black hair, braided near her forehead to fall freely down her back. She wears a blue and yellow dress that is both light and intricate, and against her dark skin, she sees the multitude of stones and gems that adorn it.

She bends beside you, her neck elongating to peer down at the counter. Alessa wonders if she is the seller or simply another customer, but she mostly wonders why this woman feels comfortable standing so close beside you. And why do you allow her to do so? She is a stranger, should you not move away? Are you not concerned for your own safety?

But it seems that you are not. You stay in place, and now you turn your chin, and Alessa sees your lips moving.

The woman pauses, smiles, and then moves her long, gracious arm to pick something from the counter. Alessa's eyes are not slits, for the pupils have all but disappeared. There's no blue as she stares, stiff now, stiff over her whole body. The woman — the merchant — moves her other arm, and Alessa sees her brushing her hand between your shoulder blades.

(…)

The wine glass hangs perilously from his fingers.

Alain is vaguely aware that it's almost spilling onto the immaculate golden cushion of the plush sofa he has chosen as his perch for the evening. The nobleman decides that he does not care. Wine stains can also serve as decoration, let it show this sofa has had some use — even if by one sprawled, slightly drunk, good-for-nothing noble.

Alain twirls the glass, hearing the wine splash inside, and his lips quirk when he feels something wet coat his fingers. Oops. He doesn't look to confirm it, however, for his eyes cannot stray from you. A little sparrow.

Although of prey, you resemble nothing. You walk within the crystal halls with your head held high and your shoulders squared, and never before has Alain seen a common-born with a prouder chin. You stride forward, looking them all in the eyes, and he's struck again by that. When you first met, Alain couldn't put his finger on why you impressed him. What exactly made you stand out, but it didn't take him long to realize: you looked him straight in the eyes.

You hold people's gazes, whether they're dressed in wool or silk, whether they're covered in dirt or gems, whether they have a family name or none at all.

Alain's lips curl into a grin when he sees Lady Evelyn gather her skirts and step aside to let you pass. The painted hag scowls at your back, but he knows she'd never do it to your face. She wouldn't dare. You have the handkerchief of the Theers tied to your wrist but more than that, you have a light in your eyes and a countenance to your body that repels these rotten leeches like sunlight to maggots. They wouldn't dare approach you.

Alain brings his glass to his lips and swallows the wine. It's from an old, rich casket, and it flows like honey down his throat. He swirls it inside his mouth as his eyes keep tracking you. You're looking left and right, not hesitantly, but clearly searching for someone. His grin grows as he settles even more comfortably on the sofa, stretching his legs until he's practically lying.

His sparrow looks for him, but Alain is having so much fun watching you from afar. Besides, it's enough to warm his webbed, cynical heart. Someone that wants him. Isn't that nice?

You stop by a pillar with vines and flowers wrapped around it and slowly turn on your heels. Alain sees your eyes sweeping over the room, coming closer and closer to find him. He begins to raise his glass in a greeting, grin softening to something more of—

You snap your chin to the side as, strolling from amongst the crowd, a man approaches you.

(...)

The door swings open.

And all ladies gasp for a different reason as you walk through the door. Your long legs stride confidently into the crowd of puffed-up, powered noblewomen. Your gloved hand rests on your belt while your other one leans casually on the hilt of your sword. Ysabella forgets about insults and jealous cousins as her breath gets caught in her throat once more.

But it’s held out of admiration. How charming you are. How glad she is to see you. Amongst fake gold that glitters an ugly shine, you bring her back to ground level with nothing more than your presence.

"My ladies," you greet, halting in the middle of the drawing room. You incline your head in a respectful nod, but it's not a deep bow, and you never set your eyes on the ground. From all around the room, blushes erupt on the maiden's cheeks. Ysabella can't help but be amused by the sight.

(if Romanus is male)

Most of them have barely left their gilded palaces. They have almost no contact with men outside their families — much less with a man like you. A mercenary, bound by no orders like their guards. Oh, Ysabella can see how they eye you, and she understands them. She understands the daydreams that'll form around you. It only amuses her.

(if Romanus is female)

Most of them have barely left their gilded palaces. They never met a woman like you — a mercenary, not bound by orders like their guards. A woman free of courtesy, with scars and a hardness in your eyes, but even still... beautiful. More than all of them combined. Oh, Ysabella understands the daydreams that'll form around you. It only amuses her.

Poor pretty things. If I did not have Alain, I would have turned out the same.

"I'm here to fetch the lady Theer," you announce, turning towards Ysabella. You flash her a quick, secret grin, and she feels as if her chest will explode.

Bella beams and practically leaps out of her seat. She moves—

Caliana rises in a flash, and Bella blinks when she cuts in front of her. "Is that so?" Caliana says, wrapping her gloved hand around your bicep. She leans her chest closer, and Ysabella knows that, if you look down, you'll get a full view of her cleavage. "I didn't know you were coming for me, but I can't say I'm disappointed. Where are you taking me?"

You furrow your brows at her. "I... I believe you're mistaken."

"Nonsense!" Caliana exclaims, and she throws her neck back to laugh into the air. Her throat exposes to you, and her breasts press even closer, and Ysabella has never once struck anyone in her life, but a sudden, vicious primal beast within her wants to latch onto her cousin and tear away every single one of her hair. "I'm a lady Theer. You've come to fetch one, haven't you? Well, here I am. I'll tell you what."

Caliana plunges a hand into her cleavage and takes out a gold coin. She pushes it into your chest. "Wherever you're taking me, go by the long route. It's been too long since I've enjoyed hanging from the arm of a handsome man/ a striking woman. We high-born have to take our pleasures when we can."

She winks at the maidens, who all giggle and blush and hide their faces behind their hands. "Lady Caliana!" one exclaims, breathless, her voice high-pitched.

You're looking at the gold coin with dark, silent eyes.

(...)

The entire pieces are available on Patreon!

Meddling — Hadrian & Alessa

Commodity — Alain & Ysabella

#some of these don't start at the beginning #hadrian's and bella's #Hadrian #Alessa #Ysabella #Alain #Patreon #The Golden Rose

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dfroza · 3 months

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let us not be tricked.

let us not be deceived.

Today’s reading of the Scriptures from the New Testament is the 11th chapter of the letter of 2nd Corinthians:

Please endure a little foolishness on my part; you have come so far with me already. To be completely honest, I am extremely jealous for you; but it’s the same kind of jealousy God has for you. You see, like an attentive father, I have pledged your hand in marriage and promised to present you as a pure virgin to the One who would be your husband, the Anointed One. But now I’m afraid that as that serpent tricked Eve with his wiles, so your hearts and minds will be tricked and you will stray from the single-minded love and pure devotion to Him. So then, if someone comes along and presents you with a Jesus different from the one we told you about, or if you receive a spirit different from the one gifted through our Lord Jesus, or even if you hear a gospel different from the one you heard through us; then you’re ready to go with it.

I consider myself in league with the so-called great emissaries; I lack nothing. Even if I’m not the greatest speaker, I make up for it by what I know of God and have proved it time and again to you. Was it a sin to humble myself and serve you so that you might be lifted up? Did I wrong you somehow by instructing you in the good news of God without charge? In a sense, I robbed other churches by accepting their support just so I could serve you. If any need arose while I was with you, I didn’t trouble anyone. When the brothers and sisters arrived from Macedonia, they covered all my needs so that I didn’t become a burden to any of you; and I plan on keeping it that way. For I tell you, as the truth of the Anointed One lives in me, I will continue to boast about this all throughout Achaia. Why am I doing this? It’s not because I don’t love you—God knows I do— but I will continue doing what I am doing to cut off any opportunity—clearly some are looking for one—for these false emissaries, these low-down, untrustworthy preachers, these posers who act as emissaries of the Anointed, to claim that they work under the same terms that we do. No wonder they are so good at it. Satan himself poses as a messenger of heavenly light, so why should we expect less from his servants—plodding over the earth, pretending to be ministers of righteousness—but in the end, they’ll get what’s coming to them.

So as I said before, please don’t mark me a fool; but if you must, then please accept me even as that and give me a little more room to boast. What I am saying now is not in character with our Lord but is the bragging of a self-assured fool. Just as other fools brag according to their worldly accomplishments, so I, too, will have to boast; meanwhile, you—so wise, so tolerant—gladly bear this kind of foolishness. How easily you tolerate becoming another’s slave, having them consume you, letting them rob you blind, or allowing them to edge their way past you or slap you in the face. Embarrassingly I admit that next to them we must look very weak!

But in whatever way they dare to boast—remember, I’m speaking in character as a fool—I dare to boast even more! Are they Hebrews, God’s chosen? So am I. Are they true Israelites? So am I. Are they descendants of Abraham? So am I. Are they servants to the Anointed One, the Liberating King? I am even more so! (I can’t believe how foolish I sound.) I have worked harder for God’s kingdom, taken more beatings, been dragged in and out of prisons, and have been eye-to-eye with death. Five times I have withstood thirty-nine lashes from Jewish authorities, three times I was battered with rods, once I was almost stoned to death, three times I was shipwrecked, and I spent one day and night adrift on the sea. I have been on many journeys and faced the most extreme circumstances: perilous rivers, violent thieves, and threats by my own people and by the Gentile outsiders alike. I have faced dangers in the city, in the wilderness, and at sea; and danger from spies among our brothers and sisters. I have survived toil and hardships, sleepless nights, hunger and thirst without a crumb in sight, bare to the cold. As if these external trials weren’t enough, there is the daily stress I feel and anxiety I carry for all the churches under my care. Who is weak without this arousing my empathy? Who gets hurt and offended without this inciting my burning anger?

So as you can see, if I have to boast, I will, but only in my own weaknesses. The God and Father of our Lord Jesus, He who is worthy of eternal blessing, can confirm that I am telling you the truth. Once, in Damascus, the governor under King Aretas had his people in the city looking for me in order to arrest me. But I crouched in a basket and was lowered out of a window in the city wall, and I narrowly escaped his tight grip.

The Letter of 2nd Corinthians, Chapter 11 (The Voice)

Today’s paired reading from the First Testament is the 14th chapter of the book of Leviticus:

The Eternal One spoke to Moses.

Eternal One: These are the instructions for determining when an infected person has recovered from a skin disease and should be pronounced clean. The priest must go outside the camp and examine the infected person. If the priest determines the skin disease has been healed, then he will prescribe that two healthy birds—both ritually pure—some cedar wood, scarlet string, and hyssop be brought for the cleansing ritual. The priest will direct that one of the birds be killed in a clay jar over running water. He will then take the living bird along with the cedar, the scarlet string, and the hyssop and dip them in the blood of the first bird killed over running water. Then the priest will sprinkle the one who is being cleansed from his skin disease seven times with the blood, pronounce that he is once again clean, and set the living bird free in a wide, open field. The person who is presented for cleansing will wash his clothes, shave all the hair from his body, and wash himself with water; then he will be clean. After all this is done, he is permitted to enter the community but he must remain outside of his tent for seven days. When the seventh day arrives, he must shave all the hair from his body again—his head, beard, and eyebrows—and he has to wash his clothes again and bathe in water. This is how he is to be made clean.

On the eighth day, the person must bring two unblemished male lambs, an unblemished year-old ewe lamb, six quarts of the finest flour mixed with oil to act as a grain offering, and ⅔ pint of oil. The priest who pronounces the person clean will bring the man and his offering into My presence at the entrance of the congregation tent. The priest is then to take one male lamb as the guilt offering, along with the ⅔ pint of oil, and lift them up as a wave offering in My presence. Then he must slaughter the lamb in the same area of the sanctuary where they kill the purification offering for sin and the burnt offering. The guilt offering, like the purification offering, belongs to the priest. They are most sacred. The priest will then collect some of the blood of the guilt offering and place it on the right ear lobe, the right thumb, and the right big toe of the person who is being cleansed. The priest will take some of the ⅔ pint of oil and pour it into the palm of his own left hand, and then he will dip his right finger into the oil in his left hand and sprinkle drops of it with his finger seven times before Me. He will then take some of the oil from his left hand and place it on the right ear lobe, the right thumb, and the right big toe of the person being cleansed and on top of the blood of the guilt offering. The priest should take any remaining oil from his left hand and put it on the head of the person being cleansed. Then the priest must perform the atoning sacrifice before Me to cover the person’s sins. The priest is to offer the purification offering to cover the sin of the one being cleansed. After this, the priest must present the sacrifice for the burnt offering along with the grain offering on the altar. This is how the priest will cover the sin, guilt, and uncleanness of the person seeking to be cleansed; this person must be considered clean once again.

If the person who comes for cleansing is poor and cannot afford the prescribed offerings, then he may be covered by bringing one male lamb as a guilt offering to be lifted up as a wave offering. He should also present four pints of the finest flour mixed with oil for a grain offering, along with ⅔ pint of oil. He should also bring two turtledoves or two young pigeons, whichever he can afford. One of the birds will be for the purification offering and the other one will be for the burnt offering. When the eighth day arrives (which is the day after he shaves the second time), the person must present them for his cleansing to the priest at the entrance of the congregation tent in My presence. The priest will receive the lamb for the guilt offering and the ⅔ pint of oil, and lift them as a wave offering before Me. Afterward, he will kill the lamb for the guilt offering, collect some of its blood, and place it on the right ear lobe, the right thumb, and the right big toe of the person being cleansed. The priest is to pour some of the oil into the palm of his own left hand and sprinkle drops of it with his right finger seven times in My presence. The priest will then take some of the oil from his left hand and place it on the right ear lobe, the right thumb, and the right big toe of the person being cleansed and on top of the blood from the guilt offering. The priest should take any remaining oil from his left hand and put it on the head of the person being cleansed to cover him before Me. He will then present one of the turtledoves or young pigeons—whichever he can afford—one for the purification offering and the other for the burnt offering that accompanies the grain offering. The priest will cover the sin, guilt, and uncleanness before Me of the person seeking to be cleansed. These instructions explain what to do when someone with a serious skin disease cannot afford all the items for his cleansing.

The Eternal One spoke to Moses and Aaron.

Eternal One: When you go into the land of Canaan—the land which I am giving you as your own—and I contaminate or infect one of the houses in your land, the owner of the house must go inform the priest, “I have just noticed a spot in my house.” The priest must then order the person to remove all the contents from the house before he comes to examine the spot. This saves the person from possibly having everything in the house declared unclean. After this is done, the priest can go inside and inspect the spot. If he sees that the spot has greenish or reddish depressions and appears to go deep beneath the surface of the wall, then the priest will exit the house through the door and quarantine the house for seven days. When the seventh day arrives, the priest will go back into the house and inspect it again. If the discolored spot has shown up on other places on the walls, the priest will direct them to remove all the stones that have any suspicious spots on them and discard them in the impure refuse pile outside the camp. They are also to scrape off any suspicious-looking plaster and discard it in the impure refuse pile outside the camp. Then they are to go out and find other stones to replace the ones they removed and then replaster the walls.

If there is another outbreak after they have removed all the suspicious-looking stones and plaster and then replastered the walls, the priest must enter the house and inspect it once again. If he finds that the spots have reappeared, then the house has a chronic outbreak and is unclean. The owner must demolish the house and take all its stones, wood, and plaster to the impure refuse pile outside the camp. Whoever enters the house while the house is quarantined by the priest will become unclean until dusk. Also anyone who sleeps or eats inside the house must wash their clothes.

If the priest enters the house to inspect it and the spot has not reappeared after the walls have been rebuilt and replastered, the priest will declare the house clean because the spot has not returned. To cleanse the house from its contamination, the priest must take two birds, some cedar wood, scarlet string, and hyssop, and slaughter one bird in a clay jar over running water. He will then dip the cedar wood, hyssop, scarlet string, and the living bird in the blood of the first bird and in running water and sprinkle the house seven times. This is how the priest will cleanse the house from the outbreak using the blood of the sacrificed bird, running water, the living bird, cedar wood, hyssop, and scarlet string. He will set the living bird free over a wide, open field outside the camp. In this way, the priest will cover over the impurity of the house, and the house will be declared clean.

These are God’s instructions for how to deal with suspicious-looking spots: for scaly areas, swelling, rashes, and discolored spots on the skin and for discolored spots on clothing or in a house. With these instructions, priests are able to determine whether they are clean or unclean.

The Book of Leviticus, Chapter 14 (The Voice)

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures for friday, june 14 of 2024 with a paired chapter from each Testament (the First & the New Covenant) of the Bible along with Today’s Proverbs and Psalms

A post by John Parsons:

What is more important than finding the “path of life?”

Consciously or not, every day billions of people all over the world are seeking that which will satisfy their heart’s deepest longings for unending life, unbounded joy, and abiding pleasure. As C.S. Lewis pointed out, this ultimate longing is a “message” from another world.

Many people are seduced from heeding this message. Some believe that life consists of a series of sensual pleasures – eating, drinking, romance, sexual relations, etc., while others attempt to “lose themselves” in various kinds of entertainment. However, such fleeting moments of pleasure invariably cause an inward fragmentation of the soul, thereby weakening the will and inducing a state of forgetfulness regarding the deepest needs of life.

Others are deluded into attempting to find life by means of creating a “legacy” for themselves. To earn respect, to experience fame, or to be heroically remembered is considered the path of life. However, as Shakespeare poignantly reminds us, human history is at best a “tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.”

Still others hope to find life through various placating religious rituals and practices. In Orthodox Judaism, for example, the "Orach Chayim" is a handbook that meticulously provides a set of rules and regulations (halakhah) regarding sleeping, waking, wearing clothes, reciting blessings, observing Sabbath and the holidays, and so on. The path of life, according to the religionist, is the performance of various ritual acts in order to attain God’s approval and blessing.

In Psalm 16:11 we read: "You will show me the path of life; in your presence is fullness of joy; at your right hand are pleasures forevermore." The Hebrew verb translated "you will show me" is a hiphil (i.e., causative) form of yada’ (to know) and could better be translated “you will cause me to know,” indicating that God is active in the knowing process. Here King David, despite the anxiety he felt regarding death, voiced his trust that God’s love would personally intervene to deliver him from the prospect of physical corruption in the grave (v10).

From the New Testament, we know that this verse ultimately refers not to David (who eventually died), but to Yeshua the Messiah, the greater Son of David (Mark 12:35-6, Psalm 110:1). The apostle Peter cited this verse on the day of Pentecost (Acts 2:25-28), as did Paul at Antioch (Acts 13:35-37). Despite the grisly prospect of the crucifixion, Yeshua trusted that God, by raising him from the dead, would not allow him to suffer corruption (Matt. 16:21).

Interestingly, the word netzach (“forevermore”) denotes both “victory” and ��eternity,” and reveals that Yeshua's resurrection provides the everlasting victory over the sting of death itself. Yeshua is forever enthroned at the very side of the Majesty on High as the "Key Holder" to life and death (see Rev. 1:18).

The ultimate longing we have in our hearts is really a message from God – to come to Him to have our deepest needs met. The true "orach chayim" is only found in a personal, trusting relationship with the resurrected Savior - Yeshua the Messiah (John 14:6). When we receive the message of His gracious love, our heart’s deepest longings will be truly satisfied. We will experience fullness of joy in God’s loving presence, and we will enjoy abiding pleasures in our communion with God. Amen.

[ Hebrew for Christians ]

========

Psalm 16:11 reading:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/psalm16-11-jjp.mp3

Hebrew page:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/psalm16-11-lesson.pdf

PDF version of post:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Meditations/Orach_Chayim/psa16-11.pdf

6.14.24 • Facebook

from yesterday’s email by Israel365

Today’s message (Days of Praise) from the Institute for Creation Research

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prelovednikaidou · 3 years

Text

corrupt; draken, ken ryuguji [01]

Summary:

In which you met the man of your past, but he didn't come back to remind you of the bitter break-up. Draken had one thing in mind and it was to never let you leave his side ever again. Distance made the heart grow fonder but he'd rather let you spend the rest of your life hating him if it meant you'd never leave his sight.

"I don't wish you well when you ain't with me, I want you crying."

Warning:

mention of suicide, oral receiving (reader),

a/n: taglist are open up to 10 users! comment '☁️'

Word count: 2.1k

series masterlist

[01: jealousy]

Draken wanted to take you away.

The curves of your spine, flowing down to the slope of your well-rounded bottom flesh, he watched the symmetrical dimple right above your butt - mocking him that those precious intimate spots were no longer his possession to own.

It wasn't only him who shared the same thought; everyone in this crowded room had their eyes glued on you. As if you were holding those guests captive, you felt immense pressure on your feet and thighs, quivered before you wrapped your leg around the shining pole.

Spinning, spinning, spinning.

Those blinding lights showered your sweating figure in all fairness, the sound of Abel's voice had long dimmed down, it meant that your show was done. It was silent in a minute,

lifting your face - your lips curled into a hunting smile and the room soared with cheers, crumpled money tossed across the stage, but your sense of content was suppressed by the overwhelming tension.

A pair of black pupils were starring at you - pinning you to where you stood. He was among the crowd, all in his glory without care but you. You felt something burst inside your chest, unable to tear your focus from him.

This longing for him is toxic.

Flashes of memories where those sober eyes bore into yours when he pumped his fat cock into your tight cunt until his thick cum over spilled, the same eyes that once shone with so much love but turned cold.

"Dollface!"

A shout from backstage startled you from your daze, another coworker came up and escorted you down, assisting you to take off the painful high heels.

"What's with you?" She threw a curious stare your way.

You still couldn't wrap your mind. He was there. Flesh and soul, presented in front of you. It was a brief eye contact but it was enough. Enough to tell you that he was coming back for you.

It had been years since the two of you chose to split up, making your paths without each other's companion.

"I, I've got to go. I forgot that I locked the windows, my cat's probably waiting for me. He's been out for 3 days so he's starving I think. Y'all can continue without me,"

You stood but your knees turned weak at the sudden arrival of him, standing by the door. A few steps taken back, you lost all rationality to stay calm because your heart thumped loudly.

Standing tall on his 6' ft, athletic and young Draken was nowhere to be seen but replaced - with a mature adult man that induced everything he carried into lust.

The robust body looked incredibly fit, lean, and you could see the strong outlines of his defined chest and abdominal muscles from the black shirt. If it was years ago, those leather jackets wouldn't suit him - he'd look like those up-start wannabe gangsters.

But it was different now. It clung to his broad shoulders perfectly, he wasn't as cheap as those local pranksters. The dark jeans also did little job in hiding his long legs. He was indeed a member of a gang; eerie and cruel - but he had never look this good that you want to fuck.

Draken's presence was enough to brush away every man in the room that you belonged to him. Your little admirers couldn't even look at him in the eyes, let alone make up a fight.

They left with a strong sense of defeat; no wonder you never once accept any confessions, turned out you have such a man waiting.

"Why is he here? This area is off-limits. Only staff is allowed. Naoki, guide him out." You forced yourself to mutter those words, uncaring to look at him with your back facing him.

Naoki sighed, this man literally slipped $750 under the table just to meet you. Those incompetent flies who claimed to love you didn't even spare this much effort. She only signaled him to step in before she whispered to you,

"Remember the guy I told you? The one that booked a whole session for your private room? He's that guy. It's just that he arrived a little early than the arranged meeting but it'll be great if you can build a connection with him."

You glared back, "Then send him back. We still have a week before that, right? I'm tired. I can't keep up with this," You pushed off her hand from your shoulder, began to take off your wig. His eyes were still the same; always undressing you naked.

Naoki could only grit her teeth, the money already landed in her pocket. What if he asked it back? She can't let such a great deal slip so she greeted him,

"She's a bit tired from the recent show. How about we push this to tomorrow? She's got free time on her hand to rest too." At least, this would do, right?

"If I have so much time on my hands, I wouldn't have come a week early. So you guess it yourself." His voice has changed too. It was an octave lower, you immediately rubbed your thighs together before you waved a hand.

"Haaa... leave us, Naoki. But I need you to go to my house. I wasn't joking about what I said earlier."

Naoki hurriedly nodded, clutching to her pocket before her eyes warily darted from Draken to you. Is this a couple feud? She noted in her head that she'd help this guy soon in the future - who doesn't want easy money?

"Okay, I will. Sir...? Err.. hope you have a pleasant chat with Dollface. I will excuse myself then ." The hindrance in Draken's eyes finally left the room, the door closed in a thump and the subtle tension thickened.

He didn't say anything, only leaned his body by the door as he watched you wiped off your makeup. This was his morning view back when you were still wet behind ears about pole dancing. You'd come back at the crack of drawn and he'd already been out to his workshop.

"Dollface."

Stubborn like a little cat, your doe eyes didn't look up from your make-up bag and he could see through your act to be so busy. He loved how feisty you've become after years. It eased his heart that you could chase off those little shit.

"It suits you, [Y/N]. Face so pretty like a doll. Make one's heart itch to keep around. But I wonder why the name sounds so familiar."

"State your business. I'm heading home straight after this so don't expect a lap dance or something."

"Then that's the plan. I'll drive you home, eh?"

That damn 'eh'. He picked up your habit too well that the time he spent with you shaped him into copying your habit. It sounded cute but your heart still couldn't forgive him. Let him suffer a little.

"Don't need to. My boyfriend is great at doing his job. So do me a favor and let me rest quickly, how about that?"

Now, you were looking at him through the mirror. It was just too hard for you to muster yourself to face him directly. Draken didn't seem shaken. He stood straightly, you clenched your thighs tighter.

"Have I ever been quick in everything when I'm with you, [Y/N]?" His towering figure gawked over your smaller frame - casting his shadow over you as his sharp facial features caught your attention.

"Can't remember. Maybe? Because I said it just now almost like a reflex." You replied, not backing down but instead, squaring up to him that your ample breasts brushed against his torso.

His cologne didn't smell like the tacky, cheap body spray he used to own. This one smelled so expensive, alienated your memory of his familiar scent.

"Now you're getting older, your memory is getting rusty, dollface. Should I put on a play and see if you can call anything in mind?" You felt your breath became heavier but he didn't let you lose your focus yet.

Your chin was tugged upwards, the shadow of his cap cast upon his face and you remembered now; it was his eyes. Because he wasn't vocal about his feelings, you could understand everything from his eyes.

"You've grown softer, Draken. I almost threw up listening to you talk like this. What, are you changing jobs now? Don't tell me you went from a gangster to a con artist."

No, you were lying to yourself. Draken didn't change but improved. Change can be something bad but he never did anything that would bring him down. He just got better.

And it was true when the velvety touch on your beating pulse suddenly moved to your lips before he squished your cheeks in his hand.

"Fucking hot as hell but so damn annoying." He laughed, the light from his eyes never return, only replaced by a wicked glint.

He wanted to take you to his place, fuck you in his bed until you couldn't walk properly so he'd have more reasons to keep you at his place. He wanted to swallow you whole and he barely even started but why was it so damn hard to have you?

"Don't dare to think of anything nasty. You might not care about commitment in a relationship, but I do. So take your hands off me, Draken."

"Kenie. It's Kenie for you."

Your lips were so plump and wet, his other arm wrapped around your waist - hoisting you up to his body before he leaned by the dresser.

You shrieked when his scalding hot palm touched your naked back and as he untied the strings of your bra, he smiled at your face as he said,

"Do you think I'm going to believe that, dollface? Do you really think I don't know that this pussy hasn't been fucked well for months? I have eyes across this ward. You don't get to fool me."

Heat rose to your face, your small hands pushed on his shoulders, "You're still up in my business? Sounds like someone can't fucking move on."

He nodded, ripping off your lacey bralette and his big hands began to palm your heavy breast - carelessly rubbing your nipple with his thumb. You fought the urge to moan, you hold onto his shoulder for dear strength.

"You're right. I can't move on." Your breath hitched, he nuzzled his face to the column of your neck, inhaling so deep, and wrapped his arms tightly around your body. He missed you so much. So much that if you ran away again, he'd just kill himself.

"I fucked my fist thinking of you. I got this hard just by thinking of you. I'm not ashamed of it."

"That's your problem, Draken. I'm not you. I'm living my best life right now, and sorry that I can still cum just with my fingers."

"That's my girl," He pushed you until your back met the concrete wall, your eyes widened when he took off his cap and put it on you before he dropped to his knees.

"I am aware of your appetite, [Y/N]. You won't be happy with such a small meal. You always keep coming back to have your tight pussy stuffed. Even when we were living together, you couldn't stop begging my dick every night."

"What the hell are you talking about-" You pushed his forehead away from your private part, one hand covering your pussy but he gripped the side of your hips - bringing you straight to his mouth.

"I don't care if you use me as your favorite Cherry Twins. But don't deny that I made you cummed the hardest when I was in your life, dollface."

Your eyes became misty, his words just flew through your head - empty when his mouth latched on your clothed crotch, lapping on the small fabric that the nudge of his tongue probed on your budding clit.

Cherry Twins were the name he gave to your vibrators. Since he was always out when you were at home, he'd make you use them to your greedy cunt - even made a video call so he could jerk off in the public restroom.

You were wild, but he taught you to live even wilder.

Next page: chapter [02] →

a/n : next chapter is full smut bcs thats the only thing my brain's capable of. Taglist are open up to 10 users! Comment '☁️’.

Taglist: @hanmascult @q-the-rockaholic @hikkarins

#tokyo revengers smut #tokyorevengers x reader #tokyorev smut #tokyorev x reader #tokyo revengers #draken x you #draken x y/n #draken x reader #draken smut #draken #ken ryuuguji x you #ken ryuuguji smut #ken ryuuguji x reader #ken ryuguji #nik; [series] ☁️#nik; [corrupt]

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parkersroses · 3 years

Text

stupid boy. | harry styles.

summary: Harry comes to his senses and realises it's been you all this time. a continuation of stupid girl.

wc: 4.1k

warning(s): minor angst and some fluff!

a/n: (disclaimer: gif belongs to @oneandonlycheshirecat) ahhh i hope you guys like this as much as the first part! do lmk what you think of it, reblog (!!) & comment, let's talk about it! here's my ko-fi if you consider donating and supporting me more. all my love to you all <3

Harry finds himself staring down at his black coffee, watching it swirl as he stirs his spoon around. The spoon makes clinking sounds as it moves against the rim of the cup and he hears it scraping against the bottom of it.

It’s generally calm in the coffee shop he’s in. The baristas are bustling around behind the counter and sounds of the coffee machines being used are elicited. He hears the sound of the register as the customers pay and the cashier thanking them, proceeding to greet the next customer. People are sat in their own spaces, minding their own things like gossip or struggling to finish up an assignment.

Harry sat in a booth next to the glass window of the shop. He finds himself not paying that much attention to the world around him, instead just staring out through the window he sits next to. His mind is a blur and he sort of forgets why he was out in the first place.

He gently sips on his hot black coffee. The warm bitter taste sitting on his taste buds. You once told him what a monster he was when he told you it’s the only way to drink coffee. You disagree because you couldn’t handle the taste, opting for steamed milk in your coffee. He smiles at the memory of the little things you both would disagree on.

He hasn’t seen you or spoken to you in a while. In fact, he doesn’t know if he should. He doesn’t know if you would want to see him or talk to him. He wonders what are you doing at the moment.

He’s been thinking about everything that has happened between the two of you since that night. How he believes it may have been his fault that the friendship is possibly ruined.

What is he supposed to say anyway? What should he say? He’s never realised how his own best friend was in love with him. He realises now of how stupid and selfish he was to not even consider her feelings when he first suggested they would start fake dating.

He convinces himself that he is still hopelessly in love with Amber. Well, at least he thinks he is. He’s not even sure of his own feelings anymore.

At first, he was so sure about his feelings for Amber. He thought of the plan going so well, convincing everyone including her that you both are in love, that maybe some jealousy might spark from her and tell him ‘Hey, I still love you too.’ Then, that night happened and everything about winning Amber back went out of the window.

He thinks about you a lot and sometimes wonders if you do the same. And he misses you. He really misses you.

He misses the way you tease him for even the smallest things. He misses talking to you about writing music because you are usually his confidant who always motivated him to write what he likes. He misses your laughter and how you throw your head back like a little kid, how you’d even apologise for having an ugly laugh when he always thought it was adorable.

Yeah, he misses you a lot. He asks himself whether she feels the same. Whether she too is somehow feeling alone, not knowing if the other wants anything to do with you or even speak to you at all. He hopes that you don’t think it’s all your fault.

After all, he was the selfish, blind and stupid one.

“Harry,” a soft-spoken voice pulls him out of his thoughts. He looks up and smiles at the person he’s been meaning to talk to. Maybe she could somehow help him figure out his feelings.

“Amber, hi.” He stands from his seat, giving her a small hug. He gestures to her the seat in front of him and she gladly sits. It doesn’t seem as awkward as he expected.

“Quite surprised you wanted to meet, actually,” she confesses to him, chuckling a bit. He rubs the back of his head in a nervous manner. A waiter comes by to take her order and she politely asks for a latte.

Funny, you like lattes. No wonder you got along with her, he guesses.

“Yeah. I’m sorry for calling you out of the blue like this,” he apologises. She waves her hand in front of him, telling him it’s all good. “It’s fine. It’s great seeing you again,” she tells him.

“So, how’ve you been since I last saw you?” He enquires.

“Oh, I’ve been alright. Work has been good. Nothing major goes on, unlike you, superstar,” she jokes and they both laugh at this. “That’s great to hear. I’m really happy for you.” She smiles to thank him and the waiter comes back again with her drink.

He is itching to ask her this and hopes it doesn’t come out as too forward or invasive. “Um, what about your friend? The one you brought with you the other week we met?” He asks, his head is slightly tilted down as if he’s scared to make eye contact with her after that question.

“Oh, yeah! He’s great! He really enjoyed meeting you guys, by the way!” Her face lights up when she talks about him and it doesn’t go unnoticed by Harry. “Never asked this then, but how did you guys meet?” He curiously asks.

Her face blushes at this. “Um, we met at work actually. Met him on my first day and taught me some things here and there about the place. We have become quite close since then.” She tells him, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “We, uh, have been on a couple dates. So yeah, that’s something that’s been going on.”

Naturally, Harry would ultimately feel jealous that the girl he still loves has her eye and heart on another man. But it doesn’t feel that way. He didn’t feel jealousy running through his veins at this. He didn’t feel sadness at the fact that she’s probably moved on.

“That’s great, Am. M’happy for you,” he tells her. And he genuinely means it now.

She thanks him and sips on her drink. “What about you and Y/N? How’s the love life going on with you two?” She teases, wiggling her eyebrows at him. He lets out a sad laugh at this. “Yeah, um. Not that great at the moment.”

“Oh?” She frowns at this.

“We, um, I guess we sort of broke up.” He says unsurely.

“You guess?”

He sighs. “We had an argument over something. We both got upset. Haven’t seen or even talked to her for a while now.”

His gaze is averted down at the table where his black coffee is at. It seems that even talking about brings feelings of guilt filling up his body.

“I’m sorry about that, Harry.” Amber looks at him, seeing how small and sad he looks. It’s clear for her to see how he regrets the argument.

“I just don’t know what to say to make things better. Feel like I might say something wrong again.” He sighs, feeling frustrated with himself.

Amber thinks for a moment on how to help him. “Well, what do you feel right now?”

Harry’s eyebrows furrow for a second. “I’m upset. Upset that I haven’t spoken to her. Upset that I don’t know what she’s feeling right now or how she's doing. Upset that everything is my fault. I don’t know how to help or fix us.” He breathes out.

“And you haven’t reached out to her yet?”

He shakes his head, almost feeling ashamed that he hasn’t. “No. Don’t know what I’d say if she would listen to me.”

Frustration is building up and his emotions are going haywire. He’s mad at how he’s ruined things with his best friend and how his own selfishness was the root of it.

Amber is quiet for a moment. She feels sad for him that he’s feeling this way. She thinks of how much he really cares for you, loves you even. And that he’ll do anything to fix whatever that’s left between you two. But one thing she knows about Harry is that he doesn’t give up easily on the people he really loves.

“Well, do you love her?” She asks. Harry lifts his head up so fast at the question.

“What?”

“Harry, do you love her?”

Harry has to pause and think. Of course, he loves you. You’re his best friend, his confidant for nearly everything he does.

He loves you even though you drink your tea with milk sometimes. He loves you even when you buy books despite not yet finishing the ones you have on your shelf. He loves you even when you sometimes put him before you for everything.

He loves your laughter. He loves holding your hand because of how warm and comforting it is. He loves holding you because you tend to hold him tighter, especially when he’s had a bad day and confided in you when he and Amber broke up. He loves calling you cute pet names because he enjoys seeing your cheeks heat up in embarrassment but he does it anyway as it just seems so natural to do it. And you’re beautiful. So, so beautiful.

He thinks about the way you are and how you’ve always been the one person that always supported him. He loves you in many ways he could possibly think of. And it’s just like that, he realises he was never still in love with Amber. Even during the times where he’d want her to look at you two when you fake-dated. Even after that night, he always thought of you and never once tried to plan to pursue Amber. He never cared about that anymore. All he thought about is you. You. You. You.

He always wanted to see you, smiling and laughing. He always so naturally called you ‘baby’ and ‘love’.

He had you all this time.

He’s in love with you.

He gasps as he realises this. Amber is still staring at him, waiting for his answer. “I do,” he finally speaks. And she smiles at his answer.

“I do love her.” He says it confidently and surely.

She nods, and it’s written all over his face that he’s in love with her. “Then, you should tell her that. Swallow up your pride. Apologise. Chase after her.”

Harry swallows the lump in his throat. She grabs his hand from across the table. He used to think that sparks would fly when he’s with her. But he doesn’t feel like that with her anymore. He just wants you and only you. That is, if you’ll have him.

“Harry,” she starts. “I know she loves you too. She’ll forgive you if you talk it out.” And he believes it.

Without a moment to waste, he gets up from his table. He apologises profusely but thanks her and tells her he’ll pay for the drinks, in which she tells him not to worry so much.

As he rushes out the door, Amber watches him and smiles to herself. She hopes for the best for the two of you. Even from the look on his face, she knew.

It’s always been you.

—

Knocks on your door pull you out from your thoughts. The last couple of days had your emotions going on a rollercoaster ride. You figured it was easier to just sit and journal anything and everything your mind has to say.

To your knowledge, you weren’t really expecting anyone. Unless, it’s a package of something you might have impulsively purchased the other day to cope with your loneliness and sadness.

You often wonder whether you have ruined your friendship with Harry. You miss him, you always do. You still love him even though he can be clueless at times. But you guess that’s what makes Harry, Harry.

You wonder whether he feels the same.

You’ve been plucking up the courage to call him and ask how he's been doing, failing miserably at the thought that he might not want to talk about it. God, you really need to come through if he’s not going to, you think.

You wait for a moment to see if the knocks would continue, and they don't at first. You shrug at yourself and focus back on the journal entry you’re writing on before a couple more knocks come in.

You sigh, throwing your head back as your moment of peace is ruined. You stand and make your way to the door, not bothering to clean yourself up, though you thought you look pretty decent. Dark sweatpants and a slightly oversized graphic tee.

Yeah, not bad for someone who’s been moping about her best friend who she’s in love with and possibly ruined it.

The person is still knocking on your door and you’re getting slightly irritated. You unlock the door and open it, ready to tell the person off when you stop before the words could come out.

“Harry?”

He stands there, dressed in a vintage tee and a pair of jeans. The shirt looks a bit small on him which makes it hug his chest and biceps. His tattoos are on display as they’re scattered all over his skin. You still think he looks good and attractive. Why the hell are you so whipped for this man?

He has a bag in his hands and you notice it’s food from the Mexican restaurant you love going to together. He even has a small bouquet of your favourite flowers. His face has a small yet nervous smile etched on it. If you weren’t having such a tough exterior put up, you think you might’ve cried. Not yet, though.

“Hi,” he says. And you realise how much you miss hearing his voice in person.

“Hey.” You stare at him for a moment before realising he was probably waiting to come in.

“Please! Come in!” You politely usher him in as you open your door wider for him. He thanks you as he walks in, not forgetting to talk off his shoes by the door, arranging them neatly next to your shoes like he always does.

He looks around your place, fidgeting on his feet like it’s the first time he’s been in here. You clear your throat to catch his attention. “Um, I brought food.” He lifts the bag in front of you and you chuckle. “I can see that,” you tell him as you take the bag from his hands. Harry follows behind you as you go to set the bag on your kitchen counter.

You turn around to look around to look at him, your eyes falling on the flowers he has. “Oh, uh, for you.” He thrusts them into your hand and you smile at the gesture. “Thanks,” you say softly as you breathe in the floral scent. You turn to your kitchen to find an empty vase to put the flowers in.

He scratches the back of his head in a nervous manner. “Um, I’m sorry for just showing up like this. I just wanted to see you. And I thought we could have some lunch together so I brought food too.”

You nod at his words. He’s still fidgeting in his place, looking nervous and almost shaking. “Harry, just relax. It’s just me,” you comfort him as you lay a hand on his arm gently. He nods and lets out a breath. “Sorry, um, I was nervous that you might not want to see me again.”

You frown at this. “Harry, I’ll always want to see you,” you tell him. “Yeah, I just thought, after that night, I might’ve ruined things between us,” he breathes out.

The corner of your lips lift up slightly at the man in front of you. Your eyes avert to the floor beneath. “If it’s anything, I thought I might’ve ruined things between us.” He frowns at this.

“Hey.” He’s itching to grab your hand, wanting to feel the warmth of your touch, but he doesn’t want to scare you off. “You definitely didn’t do anything other than being honest. I promise.”

You sigh at him. “Harry, we don’t have to talk about it. We can just pretend everything is fine.”

“No!”

His sudden tone takes you by surprise and you raise an eyebrow. He almost cowers back after realising this. “I’m sorry. Shouldn't have yelled like that.” He takes in a breath. “I just feel like I should say something. I mean, I've been thinking a lot about what I was going to say when I came over, so,” he trails off, looking at you still. He takes a moment to realise how pretty and beautiful you are. He doesn’t know why it took him so long to realise how in love he is with her.

“Okay.” You tell him and you almost get deja vu from the time you agree to fake-date him.

He lets out a big breath. “Okay, uh,” he exhales. “I just want to say I’m sorry first. For not really considering how you might feel when we did what we did. I should’ve made sure you were actually okay with it. I wish I knew how you actually felt about it.”

“Harry, you couldn’t have known how I felt because I never told you anything,” you tell him. “And, it’s fine. Really. I agreed to it, anyway.”

Harry nods, but his lips are in a straight line. He expects you to tell him how upset you were, but you don’t. You’re selfless enough to put his own feelings before yours when you agree to his plan. He kicks himself internally because of it.

You sense that he’s having a battle in his mind over this, so you take his hand in yours in hopes to somewhat ease what he’s feeling. He’s shocked to say the least when you do this but he instantly tightens his grip. And God, he misses holding your hand.

You clear your throat a bit. “Um, that was the first thing you wanted to say. What is the second?” You softly question him.

“Um,” he pauses. He’s looking at you and he can’t stop looking at you. He thinks carefully on his next words, not wanting to lose you if he says what he wants to.

“I’m in love with you,” he finally blurts out. He feels a slight relief in his chest after saying that.

But it’s almost like the world froze and it has become eerily quiet as he waits for your reaction. He’s starting to think that he broke you because you're staring at him in shock. He’s starting to sweat a bit because you haven't said a word.

He opens his mouth to say something, but your free hand goes up to touch his face.

“Wha-,” He’s confused as you pat around his face, concern and slight shock still etched on your face. “I’m making sure you’re not sick or burning up,” you say to him.

“What? I’m not sick!” He grabs her hand, making her pause her actions.

“Well, you’re sweating!”

“Because I’m nervous around you and you haven’t said anything!”

“You just said you’re in love with me! Sorry if I am shocked that the man I’m in love with just confessed his love to me and that I think he’s joking!” you whine at your defense.

Harry pauses for a moment before chuckling at her. He doesn’t realise how much he misses the playful banter you both have. “You silly, stupid girl,” he says, holding both of your hands. “I’m not joking. I am really, truly, stupidly, in love with you, lovie.”

There he goes, calling you pet names that might make you melt.

“You are?” You ask softly, almost not believing the words that are coming out of his mouth.

“I am.”

“You’re not just saying this, right? I’m serious, you’re playing around with me, I will-”

“I’m serious!” He throws his hand up in defense. “I promise. I, uh, thought long and hard about it. Realised how much I missed you and how I hated being away from you. Realised how much I love and care about you more than I should and I wish I realised what I felt sooner. Every day and night since the last time we saw each other, all I could think about is you and how you were feeling. Been thinking about what I wanted to say or how I wanted to apologise. And there was never a second where you weren’t constantly on my mind."

You smile at his long confession and stifle a small laugh. “You really are something else, Styles.” You tell him. “Hated being away from you too. I felt the same way, wondering how or where you’ve been. Wondering if I still had my best friend and if he still wanted me around.”

“You know I’ll always want you around.” He tells you.

“Well, I hate you for taking so long to tell me that.” You grin at him sarcastically.

“No, you don’t. You love me,” he teases you. You groan at him.

“Don’t push it.”

You both giggle at each other, feeling as though the air is clearing between you. His smile falters a bit as he studies your face. “I’m sorry for taking so long.” He holds your hand and loves the familiar warmth it gives him.

“You’re here now. That’s all that matters.” You look at your joint hands together, loving how right it feels.

“I love you,” he tells you, gazing at you lovingly. You bring a hand up to his face and caress his cheek. He sighs at the feeling, leaning into your touch as his eyes close. “I love you, too.”

You notice his eyes averting back and forth between your eyes and lips. “Are you gonna kiss me?” You say playfully. He smirks at this. “Yeah, I am. If you’ll let me.”

“Harry, if you don’t kiss me right now, I’ll-,” You’re immediately cut off as Harry grabs your face in his large hands, pressing his lips onto yours. And it feels like, finally. You sigh into the kiss, tasting the sweetness of his lips on yours. His lips feel soft like you’ve always (embarrassingly) imagined it’d be. You let out a tiny whimper as you feel his tongue enter your mouth. You gasp at this and grip on his shirt, as if telling him to not move away from you.

He moans as he pulls away, lifting your chin up. He looks at you so in awe and in love, it sends my heart bursting with so many emotions. He leans in again to kiss you, making it longer like he’s memorising the way your lips taste.

You both pull away again to catch your breath. Harry sneaks in another peck which makes you giggle and smile. You gaze on him, eyes lingering on his swollen and extra pink lips after your kiss and it makes your heart fill with pride knowing it’s because of you. His green eyes seem to sparkle more now that you think about it.

Harry lets out a chuckle, leaning his forehead on yours. You are both smiling like idiots in love. You wrap your arms around his neck and he pulls you in by your waist. You both sway a bit in your place, the feeling of love and adoration for each other lingering on.

A rumbling noise pulls you both out of the moment. He pulls away and laughs. “Was that you?” You whine in embarrassment as you bury your head in his chest. “I’m hungry and you brought food here. I’m sorry,” you mumble onto his shirt.

“Mmm, guess we should eat then, right lovie?” He says, looking down at your figure. You hum in reply as you look up at him. “Will you stay the night?”

He grins and his heart melts at the small request. “I’ll stay as long as you’ll want me to, baby.”

“I’ll always want you,” you feel your face warm up as you say this but it’s true. He kisses your forehead and your eyes close at the feeling of his lips on yours.

You both grin stupidly at each other before he leans in again to kiss you. You’re quick to react as you pull him closer. Harry takes you by surprise as he suddenly lifts you off your feet, spinning you around as you kiss. You squeal and laugh at this, it makes Harry smile as he sees you throw your head laughing. He trails his lips down to your jaw and neck, kissing lightly on it.

There’s nothing he’d ever exchange this moment for. Your laughter and the kisses you share whilst being so madly and stupidly in love.

And it just finally feels right with you and him.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagines #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #best friend!harry #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #parkersroses writing

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lovesick-panmess · 3 years

Text

Protect Them

Soo I know I'm way overdue with the 3rd part of my Armageddon AU but I've actually been replaying the lessons so I get a proper feel for what I'm writing, so to make up for it and to get this idea out of my head I've been thinking about it for days here is a related fic between the oldest brothers

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Levi can count on one hand how many times he's seen Lucifer coming home injured. The Avatar of Pride could easily crush irrelevant demons with his glare and he proved worthy of Diavalo's right-hand man for a reason... But the first time that Levi remembers was on a travel mission with Lord Diavalo within a year after their fall from grace. It was a distant memory, seeing Lucifer stumble up the stairs blooded up and adamantly refusing care from any of them, even Mammon who was following behind his every footstep. He had gotten used to such behavior and just settled for turning up his headphones on his way to the safe haven that was his room, stopping when he noticed the eldest's door cracked open. He watched Mammon gingerly wrap the bandage around his shoulder, blinking back tears in his eyes and shaking his head vehemently as Lucifer spoke. The music was loud and distracting he just settled for reading their lips-

"Mammon I need you to do this for me.."

"I won't! There's no need, ya just paranoid-!"

Watching the tears well up made Levi shift, uncomfortable and jealous, wondering what bond allowed them to be so vulnerable so open. Hadn't they all fought their father together? Rallied behind him so readily behind Lucifer, their Morningstar that only shined a light that only Mammon was allowed to see. He lingered before continuing to walk down the hall, to dwell in his own sunken loneliness but hearing Mammon speak one more time before the door had shut.

"..I'll do it, alright? Just stop ya crying, Luci.."

He had felt the deja vu of that very moment playing out in front of him, though this time he was hiding from Mammon in his secret spot in the living room. They had planned to go to the movies in an hour and Levi knew that Mammon would try to find him to convince him to pay for the tickets yet again so he decided to wait out the time so that scumbag would have to bring his wallet. It was a surprise to see the door open, everyone else is out and Lucifer's return to be scheduled for a few more days, but instead, the eldest had come early with visible wounds and beatings. Levi felt frozen, debating on whether he should slip out to help or stay putt but once again Mammon comes down the stairs like it's his calling. "Lucifer? Let me help you!" Denial was the first given reaction, the eldest's heart too hard and stubborn to ask for help before collapsing into Mammon's arms.

Levi followed with anxiety brewing in his chest, now wanting to just hide away in his room since plans were clearly on hold and he could do nothing to help the pair. Not like they would want his help, a shitty pathetic otaku wasn't much good at bandaging wounds, not like he was able to get much practice like Mammon did. Jealousy seethed, it made his heart race as he hid to the side of the door at the mention of his name.

"We have to tell him, Mams."

"We don't have to tell him shit! It's fine like this...Levi doesn't have to be involved."

It was confusing to be thrown out of the loop, but it hurt to hear Mammon so effortlessly fight to not include him. Maybe the second-born felt that Levi wasn't worth it? Too weak and unable to do..whatever it is they are arguing about, even so, it was odd-looking into Lucifer's room. Mammon unafraid of the eldest's temper and even being so bold as to glare at him while cleaning his cuts, Lucifer had an expression of utter fondness that was intertwined with an unlabeled fear, one that only he seemed to see.

"Mammon, you know it takes a lot out of me to..admit this. I'm almost jealous that you're able to view me so..."

Shit shit shit, he had been so entrapped in their conversation and his own envy he hadn't realized that it was emitting throughout the hall. He stiffens when Lucifer calls his name, slipping out from where he was hiding and now embarrassed. "Levi..come here please." He notes that Mammon refuses to look at him, biting his bottom lip hard as he sits next to his brother, so not used to this soft tone from him. He really must have stepped into a completely different world, one where Lucifer is willing to fight tooth and nail with his own pride in order to tell them the truth. And what a horrid truth it must be.

"Lucifer what's going on? Why is Mammon..." He trails off, feeling Lucifer's hand skim through his hair, and despite his own embarrassment leaned into the comforting touch and suddenly the bottle of Demonus was looking very tempting. "Levi...I would like to involve you in something very important, in order to protect the others." Lucifer's words were slow, each one taking some kind of will to overcome his pride, his wings twitching in what Levi could easily place as anxiety and one he knew way too well. "I'm not allowed to say anything about the threat outside of the Devildom but it puts us at risk and I...There may be a chance I won't come back."

His stomach drops, he doesn't realize that he's shaking until he feels Mammon's arms wrapping around his shoulder, shaking his head in pure denial. Not Lucifer, the most powerful one of them all, their eldest brother not coming back. Such thoughts were unfathomable to even believe, much less considered as a probability to the point that they had to talk about it. Acknowledge it and take action, Lucifer keeps talking and Mammon presses Levi closer to his chest, "I talked this with Mammon since the beginning but now we believe it's time to tell you in case something were ever to happen to the both of us and you would decide when to tell Satan..."

The prospect of such responsibility makes Levi feel like a fish out of water as he gulps for air yet in that same breath go on a rampage of self-deprecation and drowning doubt. How he's not ready, he's a good-for-nothing shitty pathetic otaku, he can't protect his brothers, he's weak, he's nothing, if Lucifer and Mammon are gone then there would be no fucking hope for them. The two oldest look at each other, small bits of regret building up from the pressure and burden they had put on him, Mammon gently rubbing his back and Lucifer cupping his face. "Leviathan please breathe."

His body does it automatically before he can think about it, the air in his lungs felt like boiling water as the panic slowly dissipates in his chest. All that was left was his own soft mutterings, so sure that Lucifer was probably disappointed that he has to trust in Levi of all people to protect them, he leans against Mammon who nudges him affectionately before resting his head on his shoulder. "I...I haven't really done anything good since...I was General...how can you be so sure in me?" He asks but squirms unready for whatever the answer might be, though he's unable to mistake Lucifer's radiating pride that he feels.

"Who's the one who came up with the plan on where to steal the weapons in the Celestial Realm?"

"M-Me but I-"

"And who helped convince the others to lay low while we defended the base?"

"I did but Luci-"

"Who's the one who took an arrow for Mammon while he was trying to protect me?"

"Lucifer-!"

He gets cut off with a flick on his forehead, his lips set in a pout but meeting the Morningstar's expression that made butterflies bloom in his stomach from overwhelming pride had him turn away and looking down at the floor. "Levi, get out of your head for one second and look at how smart and tactical you are. When it matters...when there is no time to panic. You're the third strongest family for a fucking reason, you should start believing it." The unusual confidence makes him flush but it's really Lucifer's words that bring the tears, no longer from fear but slowly coming to the realization that Lucifer and Mammon too had faith in him...they always did.

"Do ya still wanna join the pact? If ya wanna think about it, ya still can Levi." He blinks at the fact that Mammon had really been silent this whole time and just hugging him, the second born now getting up to tighten the remaining bandages. "Did you think about it, Mammon?" Levi knew the answer in his gut, only the blind would question the unwavering devotion that Mammon and Lucifer had for each other, only further cemented as the Avatar of greed simply shakes his head. He feels a small smile form on his face, "Then I don't need to think about it...I want to do this."

By the next few hours, any of the remaining tension and somber feelings had slipped away, replaced by a calm atmosphere that usually would not last long in the House of Lamentation. The melody of the cursed record floated and hung in the air as Levi rested on the floor in his demon form, the pact officially made and learning about the secret doorway by Lucifer's bookcase, definitely locking that information into memory. He sees Mammon grinning above him, curiosity embedded in his features, "So where'd ya decide to put the pact mark?" Levi lifts his sweater, the symbol of the three still glow fresh on the side by his ribs, and Mammon hissing with empathy.

He wanted it to hurt weirdly enough, to serve as a forever reminder that this pain was temporary but the pain of losing his brothers would surely last till the end of time. Mammon shows the mark on his hand, Lucifer clicks his tongue in disapproval as someone might ask about the pact but the second brother waves his concern away. He enjoys looking at the pact, the constant reassurance that they would be okay when the word goes to absolute shit, and Lucifer couldn't find any argument against that. They both look at the eldest who crosses his arms with a sharp, "No-" before puppy eyes come into play and Lucifer's pride can not save him from that.

What they both don't expect is for Lucifer to turn around and spread his wings out as if to show off, but then they see it. The markings trailing up his spine and next to the scars of where his two wings used to be, Levi is the first to reach up and touch it, internally blaming the remnants of Lucifer's pride that is making him so bold. He sees his hand tremble but luckily he is able to hold his voice steady, "Just because we made this pact..doesn't mean you both get to just fuck up. Y-You both should always come home." Lucifer nods, Mammon kisses his cheek and Levi struggles to hide his tears.

When Levithan leaves the room while closing the door behind him, reality, as he knew it just a few hours ago, wasn't all that different and he can hear Asmo drunkenly cheering as Satan carries him through the door. "Hey, Levi! Don't hide in your room- you better come join us." He doesn't give his thoughts a chance, heading down the stairs with a small smile. The world hadn't changed, but Levi would be forever.

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AHHH THIS HAS BEEN SITTING THE DRAFTS FOREVER I'M SO GLAD I FINISHED IT. Please please let me know if I should make an explanation post of how the pacts would work (it will most likely be headcanons cause I don't know how they work in canon 😪😪)

either way, I really hope you enjoyed the fic as I did writing it! I'm still working on the next part for the Armageddon AU so bear with me 😭

#obey me #angst #lucifer angst #mammon and lucifer #obey me angst #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me shall we date?#obey me leviathan #levi angst #mammon and levi #mammon angst #Lucifer angst #armageddonau

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justauthoring · 3 years

Text

Amongst Them All, I See You

Prompt: Hey! I saw that you’re taking requests, and wanted to toss one out there for you. Hope you don’t mind. by the way, i absolutely LOVE your writing!! it’s always so heartwarming and nicely worded. Anyways, I had this idea for a Tsukishima Kei x reader where maybe basically Him and the reader have a enemies-to-lovers relationship. and maybe it has something to do with yamaguchi? i was thinking it could be some kind of angst 👉👈 but if you don’t write angst that’s perfectly fine!! it doesnt have to be. feel free to twist this any way you want :) Requested by: anonymous (thank you darling!).

A/N: salty beanpole has finally made his arrival ;) Pairing: Tsukishima Kei x F!Reader

From the moment he met you, Tsukishima didn’t like you.

Now, he couldn’t exactly explain why. There wasn’t necessarily a real reason for it, just a feeling, an instinct if you will, and Tsukishima felt it best to listen to his gut. It’d never failed him before.

“Tsukki! I brought Y/N!”

By now, this is a common occurrence. Yamaguchi was all but determined to make the two of you friends, though Tsukishima couldn’t even begin to understand why, and it didn’t matter who ended up getting dragged along, the two of you found yourself constantly forced to spend time together.

Today, apparently, is no different. And the apprehensive, hesitant expression on your face is the same as always as Yamaguchi holds tightly to your wrist, you two steps behind him as you’ve probably spent the last few minutes trying to desperately convince your friend that it was alright, you didn’t mind eating lunch alone, you didn’t need company, etc. that Yamaguchi basically never listens to.

After all, you are a lot easier to convince then Tsukishima is.

You can never really say no to Yamaguchi’s soft eyes and hopeful smile, it seems.

Yamaguchi forces you to sit, before taking the spot next to you with a pleasant smile, reaching into his bag as if he hadn’t all but forced you against your will there.

And Tsukishima stares for a moment, one, two, before placing the lid back on his bento box. “I’ll be taking my leave then,” he says simply, voice dull, face blank as he moves to stand.

As Yamaguchi rushes to stop him, a hand over his own, practically pleading and spouting something like we’ve never not eaten lunch together -- something Tsukishima could really care less about, he misses the second of hurt that flashes in your eyes. It’s brief, passing with a blink, and then your face is settling into a scowl, cutting Yamaguchi’s begging off;

“Am I really all that awful to be with?”

“No--”

“Yes--”

Yamaguchi glares at him, to which Tsukishima rolls his eyes, finally sitting back down in his seat with a sigh.

And so, lunch continues on as it usually does. Tsukishima sits there silently, maybe putting a word in or two if Yamaguchi looks at him expectantly, while the two of you talk adamantly amongst one another. You’re loud, painfully so, like you always are, and Tsukishima is all but torturously reminded of Hinata, and he can already feel a headache coming.

He doesn’t listen to the conversation, not really at least. He does take note, mainly because he can’t help to, like he always does, that while you always seem to be loud at lunch, or after practice, it’s only ever when you’re with Yamaguchi. In class, you’re quiet. Almost eerily so. And you’re usually alone.

Scratch that, before Yamaguchi and him, you were always alone.

Tsukishima pretends like he hadn’t noticed, like when Yamaguchi comes bounding up to him one day, excited to introduce you, he didn’t already know who you were. Because, it seemed like lots didn’t. Your presence is often lost amongst the crowd, and for the longest time, Tsukishima felt like he was the only one who did see you.

Head turned down, arms wrapped around yourself, you so purposely tried to avoid attention but Tsukishima always noticed you.

He doesn’t tell people things very often, and even Yamaguchi doesn’t know the things he swears he’ll never tell anyone. So, for the longest time, you’re like this secret he keeps. He notices you, you don’t notice him, and he sees things that no one else does.

He sees the frustration on your face when you open your locker only to find that your books and homework have been ripped. He sees the way you rush from class to class, desperate to be in the halls for as little time as possible. He sees the way that one girl from class, Tsukishima doesn’t care to learn her name, slams you up against your locker one day after school, and hears the low threats thrown your way, ones he can’t make sense of.

And he sees the way you always wear your blazer, even when it’s blazing hot outside. You choose the longer skirt option, and are always wearing knee high socks. Your skin is constantly covered, hiding something.

But then Yamaguchi introduces you to him one day, like he didn’t already know who are you, and you’re all shy smiles and quiet whispers to him but you’re bright eyed and giggly when you turn to Yamaguchi. You speak to him like he’s a friend you’ve had for years, rather then a few weeks, and Tsukishima jealousy bubbles up to hate towards you for some sick, twisted reason he can’t properly explain.

And it’s just been like that for the past two months.

“We don’t have practice after school,” Yamaguchi offers, eyeing Tsukishima before turning to you. “Would you like to hang after school?”

Tsukishima notices, out of the corner of his eye, the way your body straightens at his words, eyes widening slightly in panic. Panic that’s only there for a moment, something that Yamaguchi completely misses.

“Uh, sure. I just have to, um, uh, drop something off quickly after class. I can meet you outside, by the gym?”

Yamaguchi shrugs, “sure.”

And Tsukishima wonders how Yamaguchi didn’t notice how plainly obvious a lie that was.

“Anyways, um,” you move to gather your stuff, quickly, movements stiff. “I have to talk to the teacher before class, so I’ll just meet you guys there, okay?” And you’re standing before Yamaguchi can really say otherwise, waving at him, before your eyes fall on his, as if debating, before turning, rushing off.

Yamaguchi turns back to his food, completely obvious.

“I’ll be late after school too.”

“Oh?” Yamaguchi mumbles, obviously confused. “Is everything okay?”

“Fine,” Tsukishima nods, “just got to grab something.”

“Ah, here you go, Y/N-chan! I’ll need them done by tomorrow!”

Your jaw all but falls to the floor.

“T-Tomorrow?” You whisper, hesitant, voice shaky. “But... this is like three days worth of homework, Suzuki-san, I couldn’t possibly--”

“But you will,” she cuts in sharply, your own eyes falling on her with a blink of surprise, wincing slightly at the deep frown on her lips. “Because you know what will happen if you don’t.”

Fingers tightening around the stack of papers, you sigh, trying to stop the shaking of your limbs as you numbly nod. “Of course, Suzuki-san,” you whisper, “I’ll have them done by tomorrow morning.”

Her hand raises in your peripheral and you flinch, expecting the worst, lips parting to apologize for whatever you did wrong -- but her hand simply falls on top of your head in a mock pat. “Perfect.” And then she’s turning without another word, not even a thanks, and as you watch her walk off, you feel your vision blur.

Your grip on the paper tightens, turning painful as you curse softly to yourself, turning around so your backs against the hall and you hastily rip open your locker to hide yourself the best you can. Luckily, everyone’s most gone off now, so there’s no prying eyes watching you cry to yourself.

Not like anyone ever notices anyway...

“You shouldn’t let her talk to you like that.”

Jumping at the voice, the eerily familiar one, you spin, wiping at your eyes desperately as you peer up at Tsukishima, shocked. “Tsukishima!” You gasp, shaking your head. “You scared me,” you try to laugh off, pressing a hand against your chest and pretend like you hadn’t just been sobbing to yourself seconds prior. “Did Yamaguchi send you to find me? I’m surprised you agreed, but i’m almost--!”

His hand slams against the locker next to yours, causing you to jump once more, blinking up at him as he glares down at you.

“Cut the bullshit.”

Laughing nervously, you shake your head; “I-I don’t know--”

“I saw everything Y/N,” he cuts in, “don’t lie to me.”

And sudden anger flares in you, frustration from before, and frustrated at him, at people constantly interrupting you, walking all over you like you were nothing but dirt. “What do you care,” you hiss, voice low as you turn, ignoring him as you grab the paper, slamming your locker shut. “You hate me.”

And there’s a pause, Tsukishima blinking in surprise that you don’t notice, before the papers ripped from your hands. You spin back around, ready to yell at him, before you notice him moving towards the trash and all but dumping the pile in.

“W-Wait!”

You try to stop him, to no avail, and your eyes widen as you lean over the rim of the garbage can, eyeing the papers that have spread amongst the trash, rotted food and spilled drinks, soiling the paper.

Eyes wide, disbelief flooding your entire system, you turn to Tsukishima. “Why would you do that?” You whisper, shaking your head. “You don’t understand, she’ll--!”

“She’ll what?” He asks bluntly, gaze never wavering.

Swallowing thickly, you shake your head; “it doesn’t matter. Just-Just help me get the paper, most of it might still be okay--”

Tsukishima grabs you by the wrist, halting you from grabbing the papers.

You spin, blinded by your anger, and shove at him in the chest. But Tsukishima barely budges, just staring down at you as you glare at him, the tears now falling once more as you feel your emotions that you’ve been hiding and building up inside of you, finally come pouring out.

“What do you even know!” You yell, voice booming. “Why do you even care? Don’t you hate me? You only tell me how annoying I am every day, constantly, and now she’ll... Suzuki-san...--”

“Y/N,” grabbing both your wrists, Tsukishima pulls gently, pulling your eyes on him. You find yourself surprised at what you see when you meet his gaze, baffled by the softened look in his gaze -- and... is that? Guilt? “Just look at me.”

You fall silent, puzzled.

“You don’t have to worry about her,” he says simply, “she won’t hurt you anymore.”

Anymore?

How does he...?

Lips parting, you try to find the words, bewildered, at a loss of words.

“Y/N--”

Pushing at his chest, you stumble away from him, shaking your head. Eyes blurred, watering, you glare up at him, while he simply stares back down at you, that same stupid guilty look on his face.

“Tsukki? Y/N...?”

Blinking, you both glance back, Yamaguchi having come to a stop before the two of you, clearly confused.

That seems to snap you out of your stupor. Wiping at your eyes, you turn, “I have to go home,” you whisper, voice quiet. “Sorry Tadashi, but I won’t be able to hang tonight.”

And then you’re taking off into a sprint, desperate to get as far away as possible.

“Tsukki?” Yamaguchi whispers after a moment, turning to look at his friend imploringly. “What happened--?”

Scoffing, Tsukishima just shakes his head. “Nothing.”

“Take your hands off of her.”

Blinking, you shift, enough to glance at the shadow that has fallen over both you and Suzuki, bewildered at the sight of Tsukishima.

But he simply ignores you, keeping his gaze trained on Suzuki who seems just as confused as you, though more angry. It doesn’t phase him however, and he simply stands there, one hand in his pocket, the other clutching his school bag tightly, as the glare on his glasses stares her down.

“Now.”

Suzuki lets go of you, and you crumble to the ground in a heap, turning to Tsukishima with a scoff. “Who are you to tell me what to do?” She laughs, shaking her head with a roll of her eyes. “Besides, this is the girls washroom, you’re not--”

He catches the hand that she waves lazily at him, and it doesn’t take a genius to know his grip is tight. She gasps in response, her face falling in pain as he glowers down at her. “I’d say bullying is worse,” he mumbles, and somehow the drawl, the uninterest in his tone of voice is even more terrifying then him being actually angry. “And I’d wonder how your teacher would feel if she knew all your perfect grades were because of Y/N?”

Suzuki’s eyes widen, clearly scared, before scoffing. “And what proof do you--”

“It’s mine and Y/N’s word against your own, Suzuki.”

She turns to you then, and so does Tsukishima, and your lips part, unsure.

“Like Y/N will say--”

“I’m done with warning you,” she whimpers slightly, and your eyes fall to the grip he stills hold of her, a hand going to your lips. “Either leave and never bother Y/N again, or you will regret it.”

He lets go of her, and there’s a pause in which Suzuki sends one last look at you, before rushing out of the bathroom without another word.

“Here.” Tsukishima’s grabbing ahold of you before you even notice, gently pulling you to your feet, and helping set you against one of the sinks before he turns, locking the bathroom door.

“Thank you,” you whisper when he turns back to you, hugging yourself.

“I told you,” he shrugs, “she won’t hurt you anymore.”

Looking down at your feet, you bite your lip. “How’d you know?”

He blinks, turning to you; “yesterday--”

“No,” you shake your head, turning to him sharply, “before that. How’d you know? No... No one ever notices. No one ever sees. Not even Tadashi.”

And Tsukishima tenses at the mention of him, the way you regard him on a first name basis when you said it right there and then -- he’d never noticed. No one did. But him.

“I noticed,” he whispers, “and I should’ve done something about it earlier.”

“It wasn’t your problem,” you shrug, before letting out a short laugh, “besides, you hate me, right? So it makes sense--”

He’s before you in seconds, shocking you to silence as he stands close, desperately close, but avoids your gaze, head tucked in, shaking his head. “I don’t...” And the words seem hard, forcing them forward, and Tsukishima suddenly seems less scary then and just... awkward.

Like he doesn’t know how to express what he’s feeling.

“I don’t... hate you.”

And you pause, letting the word sink in, before letting out a giggle, one that has Tsukishima glancing up at you in bafflement.

“Well, I’m glad,” you smile at him, the first time you’ve ever smile at him so... genuinely. “Because I don’t hate you either.”

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pan-ick · 3 years

Text

Golden Child Pt. 1

I literally can't remember where I found it but I read a headcannon for an angsty SBI +Reader and I loved it so much that I had to write something similar to it but I think I might have forgotten to like it, so if you know what the original is please tell me so I can credit them I was partially inspired by@helliontherapscallion's "Adrenaline Junkie" series, simply for the fact that because of them i haven't stopped thinking of inventor reader. Also let's just pretend that uh my human biology degree isn't going to waste by me writing blindness incorrectly ha ha. This is a purely fictional way that blindness works.

(REMINDER YOU IDIOT, FOR THE PURPOSES OF THIS STORY: Wilbur is 26, Techno is 20, Tommy is 16, Phil is 32, SO READER IS 22, GET IT RIGHT AND STOP MESSING UP)

As soon as Y/N's wings started developing, they were instantly the favorite child. Philza still showed his love to Wilbur, but nowhere near as much as he did to his winged child. If he had to choose between spending time with them or Wilbur, he'd pick them in a heartbeat. Wilbur was usually upset when this happened, but he had gotten used to it and had learned ways to cope with it.

This was until Techno showed up. On their doorstep. Next to a freezing Philza who had sacrificed most his warmth to the young piglin. Wilbur had his thoughts on this, yhough he kept them to himself. But Y/N couldn't be happier! This meant a new friend, AND they were right when they said that Phil was just a nice person, there wasn't a favorite child! Right?

They quickly realized that Techno wasn't their friend, as the first interaction they had together was them getting a claw to the face by the piglin. Philza just simply sighed and made sure the wound would stop bleeding before tending back to the scared pig.

Y/N was only eight at the time, they didn't know what they were feeling. But whatever it was didn't feel good.

Since that day, Y/N was the new Wilbur and 'Technoblade' was the golden child. Y/N wanted the spotlight back, so they tried hard at everything. Nothing ever worked. Nothing was better than what Techno could do. Nothing was more amazing than Techno's knowledge, or his skills in fighting, or his odd way of speaking, or those stupid things that he did, or the fact that he'd always blame it on some 'voices' in his head. That he had a God complex. That he was better than Wilbur. He was better than Tommy. He was better than you...

He was always better than you. Of course. Thats what you felt when you first met. Not amazement, not the happiness of having another friend. Of course not. It was overwhelming jealousy. But he was your brother, so you had to suck it up just like Wilbur did.

But soon enough, they came to peace with this. They moved on and worked on what they actually enjoyed, not what Philza enjoyed. Mechanics. Phil would have killed you if he learned of all the dangers that you put yourself through to consider yourself an inventor. Or.... Would he?

One day your older brother approached you with his idea to create "L'manburg". At first you couldn't help but laugh. But when it was realized that Wilbur wasn't joking and that he had already recruited Tommy, they agreed to join the fight for freedom. It was a way to pay Wilbur back for being there for them, afterall.

Y/N never imagined the true horrors that they would have to go through so they could say a 'thank you' to Wilbur. They never even truly said it to him, L'manburg was already exploded and he was killed before they could say it to him. Not even saying it to Ghostbur was good enough.

Y/N was forced to suffer through watching her loved ones go mad. Sometimes, they would try coming up with inventions that could help her friends out, and some that could help some regular problems in the world for other people. Most of them didn't work, they were only able to produce goggles that could just barely help fully blind people see. But it was a step in the right direction.

Then doomsday came. Y/N didn't want to be part of it, they didn't want to even try hurting their father and younger brother. They aren't even sure how they came to that point.

Before they knew it, they were begging the man who once gave them anything in the world for him to stop. The whole server was one big family especially everyone in the homes he was about to destroy. But what they wanted didn't matter anymore. It's what Technoblade wanted, and he wanted blood.

At the last moment, Y/N remembered Friend. Ghostbur would be devastated if Friend died.

Falling down to the ground from the small warning of TNT, Friend flooded their mind.

If they couldn't save L'Manburg, they needed to save Friend. Ghostbur wasn't the same, but Ghostbur is Wilbur. They still never said thank you. They have to show their gratitude through the miracle of Friend surviving.

And so that's what they set off to do. With no mind to their own self-preservation, Y/N got up and flew as fast as they could to save Friend. But before they could reach the sheep, a large pile of rubble fell on one of their wings, almost snapping it right off. Y/N tried to get it off but to no avail, and their whole body wasn't safe. As they saw more rubble they crouched down while covering their head with their hands and covering the undamaged wing with their body, they prepared for impact.

The last thing they could speak out was almost incomprehensible.

"Wil..... Will...... Ghosbu.............. Tommy.......... Dad............."

And then everything went black. Y/N couldn't see or feel anything. Not even after her youngest brother, the ghost of her older brother, and the three fiances of the SMP untrapped them. There was nothing.

After what felt like years for the brothers, there was finally a glimpse of Y/N waking up. But they continued to drift in and out of consciousness and whenever someone tried communicating they were completely unresponsive.

During this amount of time, it was agreed that it was in their best interest for their wings to be removed. They were both utterly useless now after being crushed and would just be extra weight with unnecessary pain that can be avoided the sooner their wings get removed. Just in case Y/N was still aware of everything going on, they were put under amnesia to lower the chance of them feeling the agony of a wing removal surgery.

Slowly Y/N began more responsive to people, but never to the same amount. Everyone that took care of them were absolutely heartbroken when they figured out part of the rock that fell on them damaged a vital organ that allowed a person to see. Luck was in fact on their side for damaging their eyesight instead of the brain, however most people didn't see it that way.

Ghostbur took it upon himself to become Y/N's seeing-eye dog. He missed having Friend nearby and Y/N was the thing he connected to the most after Friend's death.

After a few months of trying to get used to no longer having sight or wings Y/N was finally allowed back in their lab with a large amount of supervision from Ghostbur. While carefully running their hands across some unfinished inventions, Y/N comes across the goggles that they made at least a year ago. It immediately smarked a memory deep within their brain, the closest thing they had felt to seeing something ever since doomsday.

"Ghostbur, what color are these?" "Oh, they're blue. Blue's a really nice color, it reminds me of Friend. Do you remember Frien- Why are you looking down at those like that? Would you like some blue, it takes your sadness away! Wait dont put them on, the glass has cracks!" Y/N snickers as the ghost tries to take them away from them without being super forceful, "I'm already blind, what's the worst it can do?"

"Dont say that!" Ghostbur gasps, "We will find a way to get your vision back, those goggles might make it impossible!"

"I made these around the time you first showed up. I ran multiple tests with them and I was able to help a blind person see the world again. Sure, it was very blurry, hard to distinguish a lot of colors from each other, we have a different kind of blindness, and its been more that a year since I last tested them, but they might still work." Y/N explains, then they turn their back to Ghostbur and put the goggles on. This time, Ghostbut only makes a sound in protest.

Blinking, Y/N could feel the stimulation in their brain that they lost along with their eyesight come back. They moved their hands from the position they were in to put the invention on to Y/N's line of sight, and they could see their hands again. Fuzzy, shapeless, hands with a few bandaids and many scars on them.

"So, are they working?"

The voice of your brother brings Y/N back to reality and they turn to look at him. They had completely forgotten what Ghostbur looked like, only remembering vaguely what child Wilbur looked liked and a brief description of how Ghostbur's appearance differed for Wilbur's.

Y/N wraps their arms around the Ghost, not actually hugging but just doing the motion to where they would hug a person they could actually touch, as they tried to not cry in front of him.

(WOOOOOO THIS ENDED UP A LOT LONGER THAN I EXPECTED AND I'M NOT EVEN DONE YET, SO I SEPARATED IT INTO TWO PARTS)

#sbi family dynamic #sbi x reader #slight angst #gn reader #gender neutral y/n

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haikyuucute · 3 years

Note

i know requests are close but can u do the “sorry,she’s busy” with bokuto?🥺

Ask 2: s-spare bokuto sorry shes busy please 🥺🥺🤲🤲

Ask 3: Can we get an she’s busy with bokuto? 🥺🥺

Ask 4: PLEASE DO SHE’S BUSY WITH BOKUTO OR TENDOU (if you already have for either please drop the links to them i can’t find them on your blog) 🥺

“Sorry, She’s Busy” (Bokuto Koutarou)

Warning: NSFW

Ok ok

In this case, Bokuto may or may not have had a hand in being the reason you and your boyfriend broke up lmao

Now, it wasn’t like he did it on purpose

It’s just that he’s not very aware of boundaries and wears his emotions on his sleeve

But anyway, it started when your boyfriend wanted to go to one of Fukurodani’s volleyball games

He was pretty interested in sports but not rlly volleyball in particular, but he figured after hearing the praises Bokuto got for the last two and a half years, he might as well check it out

You’ve heard all the praise about his playing as well, but you’ve only ever caught glimpses of him since you were a second year

In all honesty you weren’t too inclined to go, but you did know Akaashi from class and the two of you were pretty good friends, so you figured if anything, you’d go and support him

The day of the game, both you and your boyfriend saw just how talented the team and Bokuto were

After they had won, you and your boyfriend were ready to leave but first, you quickly wanted to congratulate Akaashi

You found him waiting outside of the boys locker room

And this... this was when things would start to become complicated

Just as you were about to leave

Bokuto dramatically threw open the door with a scream of “AKAASHI—...” that died on his lips the moment he spotted you across from his best friend

Ahhh this dramatic owl was 100% convinced that it was love at first sight

literal heart eyes as he stared at you

Meanwhile you stared back owlishly from the sheer surprise of his abrupt entrance and because... he was shirtless

You couldn’t help your eyes trailing along his muscular upper body with a blush settling on your cheeks

You slightly shook your head, snapping yourself out of the brief trance, saying your goodbyes before heading out

Bokuto stared after you with a large grin on his face

“Was she checking me out!?”

Akaashi sighed “Yes... but don’t get any ideas, she has a boyfriend”

He immediately deflated

But when was he ever one to take advice

So again, it wasn’t as if Bokuto was trying to actively break you and your boyfriend up

Simply put, Bokuto doesn’t understand boundaries and all he knew was that he felt like he needed to be near you and get to know you

So he found every excuse in the book to go to your classroom, which was easy since Akaashi was in the same class

He started eating lunch in your classroom, insisting that you joined every time

He’d run to your class as soon as the day ended just to say goodbye to you

He even started walking Akaashi to class in the morning just for the excuse to see you

Bokuto had fallen fast and hard for you

And you hated to admit the fact that he was stirring up some emotions for you

And you hated yourself for every second of it because you had a boyfriend

One that was good to you and cared about you very much but... Bokuto

He was in a different league

Bokuto just shone so brightly that it was blinding

And it made you sick to your stomach knowing that you for falling for him

It took a couple weeks but your boyfriend finally figured out Bokuto’s affections towards you

So now, he was intent on making sure Bokuto didn’t get that time with you

He’d stay with you in the morning until Bokuto left the classroom, convinced you to eat lunch in his class, and would pick you up from your class instead of waiting by the front gates like he usually would

Bokuto hated your boyfriend

It was easy to pretend he wasn’t in the picture since he didn’t see him too often but now he had a daily reminder that someone called you their girlfriend

Akaashi was pissed with Bokuto for getting into this mess since this whole situation obviously affected him on court which meant even more work for the setter

Eventually your boyfriends jealousy would continue the downfall of your relationship

He also started to grow suspicious about you returning Bokuto’s feelings

It made him jealous and insecure since he had no idea how he could compete with Bokuto

The same arguments would surface again and again until finally he suggested you two take a break and cool things down

And a break was actually just what you needed to realize that yes, you did in fact like Bokuto

like... a lot actually

Inevitably you gravitated towards him and he grew hopeful that you liked him too

It scared you and made you feel guilty just how much you liked him

So you did what was best and officially broke up with your boyfriend

it was only a couple weeks after that that you started going out with Bokuto

Things moved pretty fast between you two while still feeling natural

And it was then that your ex boyfriend found out about you two after his friend sent him a picture of the two of you making out in the gym

Completely devastated he contacted you relentlessly about missing you and begging for one more chance

Bokuto was definitely not a fan of this

He never liked your ex for the plain and simple fact that he was the reason you weren’t together sooner and once he was finally out of the picture, here he was again trying to get back in it

And one night when you and Bokuto were getting intimate, your ex texted you, you were too preoccupied to care though as you straddled his lap, grinding against him

Your phone buzzed again and Bokuto quickly read the text when your screen lit up

”C’mon pretty girl, please answer me”

Bokuto felt a possessiveness well up in his chest and a single glance at your reflections in the mirror across from you two gave him an idea

He grabbed your phone, wrapping an arm tightly around your waist

He took a picture of your reflections

The both of you naked, your back with a sheen layer of sweat, holding onto him tightly and his gold eyes piercing and intense

He sent it with a text

”Sorry, but my pretty girl is busy rn”

—

Requests are open.

#haikyuu #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu imagine #Bokuto #Bokuto koutarou #bokuto x reader #Bokuto x you #Bokuto x y/n #bokuto koutarou x reader #Bokuto koutarou x you #Bokuto koutarou x y/n

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putseraphinaonthaphone · 3 years

Text

Shy | Pseudoincest & Somnophilia

tw// pseudo incest, dubcon, creampies, pregnancy risk, possessive behavior, praise kink/degradation kink, size kink, jealous baby sis reader

Slumber Party

She cute, kawaii, hentai boobies, that excites me I think she really likes me, asked politely, can I-

I'm shy, I'm so shy...

Bakugou

"fucking knew it, little slut" he could hold his weed- but his heated whispered words were a little stretched out thanks to the four blunts clouding his brain

and he would blame those four blunts and you fucked flashing him your panties for what he did to you

yeah he fucked around, and yeah he knew you would be mad when you found out, but he didn't expect the immediate look of jealousy on your face

and he didn't expect it to make him so hard

because he's not fucking blind, ever since your parents married he noticed how fuckable your ass and tits were, and he learned how nice of a person you were on top of that since he had to behave now that you were his step sister

so knowing his sweet little step sister wants him just as much as he wants you makes him bold

sucking on your clit through your panties while you moan sleepily, enjoying how drenched you get for him

when you mumble his name in your sleep he has to fuck you, you're practically asking for him

and since you were asleep he didn't have to think about how to navigate the fact that he wanted to spend the rest of his days between your legs giving you babies and a white picket fence, the works

all he had to worry about was making sure no matter how hard he fucked you you thought you were just dreaming

but thankfully you only moaned and tossed your head from side to side as he pushed you into a mating press, your pliant body manhandled easily in his big hands

and fuck if your pussy didn't suck him in and take every inch, even if you did wince faintly every time he abused your cervix

there was no question where he was going to cum, you did this to him- so you would take his load

if you happened to get pregnant, which was a possibility because he didn't know what contraceptives you used if any, then maybe he could help you out and let you stay with him

his hips slapped into your ass faster, the dark pleasure of imagining you crying to him that you were pregnant and didn't know how making his cock twitch in your warm wet pussy- eager to make it happen

because even if you did find out... he didn't care

his load was so heavy and copious it leaked down your thighs as he rode you through his orgasm, but when he caught his breath (he swore he'd never cum that hard in his life) he dutifully used the head of his softening cock to push all the cum back into your pussy, deep and safe tucked right up against the entrance to your womb

right where it belonged

Tamaki

he taught you how to hit your first blunt, and now look at you, snoring against his chest after only four blunts

okay ya mans is a stoner stoner, cause it takes a fuck ton of weed to get him to relax

so even though he's a lot more relaxed than when y'all started he's still wound up from the accidental peep show he got

finding you wet makes him think back to your conversation, when you asked about him having a girlfriend. it was true, being a stoner did make him more inclined to not argue with the women who had a thing for nerdy shy stoners and smoked him out before swallowing him down or riding him into the sunset

you looked so cute, scrunching your nose up in jealousy and changing the subject like that would distract him from the way you pouted the rest of the evening

"are you wet for me little sis?" he whispered as his elegant fingers ghosted over your clit, and you were not helping his self control when you snuggled into the pillow and mumbling "Tama," before you settled again

the first taste of your pussy on your tongue made him snap, and honestly it wouldn't have mattered if you woke up at that exact moment

he was going to have his fill of you

he ate you out for hours, literally, you woke up just as your third orgasm made your sensitive clit throb and your whole body tremble

"T-tamaki?"

the only reply you got was a groan and your step brother's pupils were blown wide until his indigo eyes were nearly black

obviously he was too busy making you squeal and thrash by sucking on your overstimulated clit, and when you tried to push his head away all he did was trap both your wrists in one of his larger hands and continue

it's only when he's pushing his cock into your messy cunt that he kisses your throat and murmurs into your skin, "you shouldn't have shown me your pussy if this wasn't you wanted lil sis,"

"I-I do want it," you whined as he stretched you out deeply, deeper than any of your previous boyfriends

you fall asleep for the second time with your step brothers cock and cum still inside you

Shinsou

it was his weed in the fourth blunt that knocked you out, cause.. insomnia

so he was confident in his movements as he dragged your panties down your legs and tossed your thighs over his shoulders to devour your obviously needy pussy

you moaned his name and he groaned in response, fucking you open on his tongue and pushing your shirt up so he could grope your tits

which

wow, perfectly fat and overflowing the grip of his large hand because they were that big

you whine when he squeezed your tit, and when he pinched your nipple you whimpered

so he's able to create quite a symphony when he also gets one thumb on your clit while his cock is in you

you're moaning like a whore when he gets you in a mating press but your twitching limbs don't offer any resistance as he pulls and pushes you in place

there's drool falling onto your tits since your mouth opened when he hit your cervix, and when you sluggishly suck on the fingers he shoves in your mouth he blows his load as deep inside you as he can reach

Dabi

he knew exactly what he was doing when he pulled out his favorite strain of weed to mix with yours for your session, and he pretends to be sheepish when he tells you about his many 'acquaintances'

the way you pout jealously just makes his cock throb in anticipation, and with every blunt your eyes droop a little more and you start complaining about all your fake ass friends and the fuck boy boyfriends you've had while leaning deeper and deeper into him

until you're fast asleep on his chest, and not stirring in the slightest when he pulls your sweats off and lets out a dark chuckle at the wet spot prominently over your needy pussy on your panties

those are quick to be gotten rid of as well, and when he flips you over so he can fuck you by holding up your hips while you just make small sleepy noises, nuzzling the sheets

he doesn't lower his voice when he groans at your tightness as he pushes his pierced dick into your soaking wet pussy

"you're fucking tight baby sis, when's the last time that ex of yours dicked you down?" he knows you can't answer but it makes him harder to say it while he's fucking into you, not stopping until you let out a little whimper and his balls slap against your clit

that rhythmic slap makes him think of spanking you, so he does, not caring that you whine every time his hand comes down heavily on the fat curves of your ass

"you're a fucking slut sis, and this is how sluts get fucked" he grunts as he gets close, the thought of leaving his cum in you to wake up to spurring him to fuck you faster, harder, deeper

"can't wait to hear you ask why my jizz is in your pussy, might have to fuck you right then and there, again. show you, hng- fuck, how I put it there"

"dabi.." you whimper and even though he can see your eyes are still closed the thought that you on some level know its him and want this?

he's blowing his load in you and fucking it deep, letting it leak down your thighs and coat his balls because it feels like he has never cum this much in his life

it makes him happy to see the puddle of cum forming under your ass when he pulls out, and he pushes his cum covered cock into your mouth letting you get him hard with your subconscious sucking while you clean him off

he repeats the actions with his balls, taking a video of your sleeping face taking his heavy sac in your mouth while his hardening shaft sits on your forehead

when he's all clean, and you're tucked in with the messy present he left you, he kisses your forehead and turns off the music and lights so you can sleep murmuring almost fondly "see you in the morning sis"

Shouto

you're wet for him, and that simple fact is making it all too easy to explain away the dubious morality of his actions

since you smoked so much he knew you were out for the night no matter what he did to you

the possibilities that entailed made him feel more intoxicated than the weed in his system did. he tugged your panties off and spread your lush thighs, and the soft sigh of his name from your lips made your pussy taste even sweeter on his tongue

every finger he added in stretching you out made you moan and sigh and god he was so fucking hard wondering what you'd sound like with his cock in you

turns out you sounded even better than he could have imagined, and your pussy gripped him so perfectly he never wanted to pull out

he tried to fuck you slow, make it last, be gentle with you, but you were restless beneath him, whimpering needily, and it was like you were made for him

because when he lost his patience and slammed into you with more force than he intended you moaned. loudly, his name- sounding like he had finally given you everything you ever wanted

so he pounded you into the mattress, trying not to cum to soon even though you were sucking him in and milking him like all you wanted was his cum in your pussy

his cock twitched at the thought of just leaving his cum in you. he didn't know if you were on the pill or anything, and how little he cared if you weren't should have scared him. instead he fucked into you deeper, and decided he felt like gambling

#bakugou x reader #shinsou x reader #tamaki x reader #dabi x reader #shouto x reader

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dfroza · 1 year

Text

A pure Church Body

A pure Queen

(A new Eve)

Today’s reading of the Scriptures from the New Testament is the 11th chapter of the letter of 2nd Corinthians:

The Letter of 2nd Corinthians, Chapter 11 (The Voice)

A note from The Voice translation:

Paul’s tone changes. Some believe chapters 10–13 may be from his second letter “covered with tears” (2:4). His rebuke and strong warning are meant to lead the Corinthians lovingly to repentance.

Today’s paired chapter of the Testaments is the 28th chapter of the book of Jeremiah:

One day in the fifth month of the same year (this was early in the reign of King Zedekiah of Judah, the fourth year), a prophet from Gibeon named Hananiah (son of Azzur) contradicted me in front of the priests and all the people who had come to worship in the temple of the Eternal.

Hananiah: This is what the Eternal, Commander of heavenly armies and God of Israel, says: “I will break the yoke Babylon’s king has placed upon you. Within two years, I will bring back the items King Nebuchadnezzar took from My temple and carried away to Babylon. I will also bring back Jeconiah (son of Jehoiakim), king of Judah, and all the exiles from Judah taken with him to Babylon. This is what I, the Eternal One, declare: ‘I will break the yoke that Babylon’s king has placed upon you!’”

Then Jeremiah the prophet addressed Hananiah the prophet in front of the priests and all the people who had come to worship in the temple of the Eternal.

Jeremiah: May it be so! May the Eternal do just as you said. May He confirm that your prophecy is true by bringing back the items stolen from the temple. Better yet, may He bring all of the exiles home from Babylon.

But now hear what I have to say to you and to all these people listening to us: Long before either of us was here, in the days of old, there were prophets who spoke strong words against many nations and kingdoms. They, too, predicted war, famine, and disease; and they have been proven right. Now, as for the prophet who prophecies peace, how are we to know whether he is a true prophet sent by the Eternal? Only when that prediction comes true.

At this point, the prophet Hananiah grabbed the yoke from around Jeremiah’s neck and broke it. He then turned to the people and said:

Hananiah: This is what the Eternal says: “This is how I will break the yoke King Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon forced you and all the nations to wear. I will remove it from your neck within two years.”

And with that, the prophet Jeremiah walked away.

Not long after Hananiah had broken the yoke off Jeremiah’s neck, the word of the Eternal came to Jeremiah.

Eternal One: Go to Hananiah and tell him, “This is what the Eternal says: ‘You may have broken a wooden yoke, but now you will get a yoke of iron that you could never break.’ For this is what the Eternal, the Commander of heavenly armies and God of Israel, declares: ‘I have put an iron yoke on the necks of all these nations, and they will serve King Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon. Even the wild animals of the field will obey Him.’”

Jeremiah (to Hananiah): Listen, Hananiah! The Eternal has not sent you, but still the people of this nation have believed your lies. So the Eternal now says this to you: “Pay attention. I am about to wipe you from the face of the earth. Because you have stirred up rebellion against Me with your words, you will die this year.”

Later that year, in the seventh month, Hananiah the prophet died.

The Book of Jeremiah, Chapter 28 (The Voice)

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures for Thursday, September 28 of 2023 with a paired chapter from each Testament of the Bible along with Today’s Proverbs and Psalms

A post by John Parsons about being “lost” in a world that isn’t our True “Home”:

There is a great danger today of fearing the wrong things, and despairing over that which trivial in light of eternity. However honest despair is a gift from God, if it is received as a message to take heed of what is most important.

“And this is the simple truth - that to live is to feel oneself lost. He who accepts it has already begun to find himself, to be on firm ground. Instinctively, as do the shipwrecked, he will look around for something to which to cling, and that tragic, ruthless glance, absolutely sincere, because it is a question of his salvation, will cause him to bring order into the chaos of his life. These are the only genuine ideas; the ideas of the shipwrecked. All the rest is rhetoric, posturing, farce” (Kierkegaard).

Like Jonah we first must be "swallowed up" in consciousness of our own hopelessness before we realize that we are without remedy apart from God's intervention and deliverance. We start there - in the "belly of the fish" - and later are brought forth by God's mercy and grace.

This is the place of the cross, the “narrow gate” that leads to life. As we look to Yeshua, as we lean on him, he reveals more of himself to us.

Hillel the Elder had said, "If I am not for myself then who will be for me? (אם אין אני לי מי לי); But if I am only for myself, what am I? And if not now, when?" (Avot 1:14). Hillel points out here that the language of "I am" (אָנִי) and "for me" (לִי) reveals that we have a relationship with ourselves that must be sanctified and ordered before God.

And as Kierkegaard perceived, the self is “a relation which relates itself to its own self,” that is, the self is always in a state of dialog. A healed self relates itself to God as the Ground of existence, since otherwise irremediable despair will result, eternal lostness within, and everlasting sickness of soul...

The remedy for being a lost self, relating only to itself without any center or ground, is to turn to God and to find your place in God’s love and blessing. As we come to believe that we are accepted and loved despite our many imperfections, inadequacies, and character defects, we find courage to accept ourselves, to “let go” in trust. As Yeshua said, “whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child shall not enter it" (Luke 18:17).

[ Hebrew for Christians ]

========

Psalm 86:13 Hebrew audio:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/psalm86-13-jjp.mp3

Hebrew page pdf:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/psalm86-13-lesson.pdf

9.27.23 • Facebook

from yesterday’s email by Israel 365:

The message is simple and powerful. Obedience to the word of God is not for God’s benefit but for ours. “Go forth for yourself.” God does not need us. We need Him. It is we, not God, who benefit from our obedience to Him.

At the same time, the journey of faith leads us to our true identities; obedience to the word of God allows us to discover who we truly are. “Go forth to yourself”; this journey would lead Abram and his followers to discover their own true selves. It is a journey of self-discovery and an understanding of our purpose and identity.

from an email by Glenn Jackson:

September 28th

THE PURPOSE OF TESTING

...."Until the time came to fulfill his dreams, the Lord tested Joseph's character".... Psalm 105:19

* The more impactful the fulfillment of a dream will be the more intense the testing of our character will become as God moves us forward toward a time and place of fulfillment. The Lord uses the testing of our character to prepare us to be able to handle the duties we will be assigned once we are in a place where we are living out the fulfillment of a dream.

Before Joseph could be used by God to save Israel from a devastating famine he would be abandoned by his brothers, sold to slave traders, and eventually bought by Potiphar to serve in his household. Only by keeping his heart focused on God, not the hardships of his journey or the enticements of life, would he be able to take the next steps toward the fulfillment of the dream he was given. When it seemed all was good and well and on track, Potiphar's wife shows up to test Joseph. His response was to run from temptation. The successful test of Joseph's character landed him in prison. Passing the tests of our character do not always take us to comfortable destinations.

The fulfillment of a dream God gives us is not for us alone. The fulfillment will affect our friends, families, and in some cases, entire nations. No dream is fulfilled without a testing process. At some point, we may find ourselves in what feels like a prison because we chose to do the right thing. In that dark place the dream is still alive for those who choose to believe.

Like it was for Joseph and will be for us, the turnaround event will take place in our personal prison cell, whatever that prison cell might be. Because Joseph remained faithful to the Lord and continued to pass the tests of his integrity, God would be faithful to call Joseph from the prison at just the right time to promote him and use him as a faithful instrument in His hands to save the nation of Israel.

The tests of our character are doorways into the future fulfillment of God's purpose for our lives - doorways that can only be opened when our character has passed the test and we have been proven trustworthy.

•

Today’s message (Days of Praise) from the Institute for Creation Research

September 28, 2023

The Seven Pillars of Wisdom

“Wisdom hath builded her house, she hath hewn out her seven pillars.” (Proverbs 9:1)

The foundation of the house of wisdom is “the fear of the LORD...the beginning of wisdom” (Proverbs 9:10). One does not finally reach the Lord through much study and the acquisition of much wisdom. The fear of the Lord is the very “beginning of wisdom.” Without a reverent trust in the God of creation and redemption, there can be no true wisdom. “For other foundation can no man lay than...Jesus Christ” (1 Corinthians 3:11).

Then, erected upon this foundation and supporting all the superstructure of the “house of wisdom” are seven mighty pillars or columns. But what are these? The answer seems to be found in that New Testament book of wisdom, the book of James, where it is said that “if any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God” (James 1:5). Then, “a wise man and endued with knowledge...[will] show out of a good conversation his works with meekness of wisdom” (James 3:13).

Finally, the seven great pillars seem to be listed in James 3:17: “But the wisdom that is from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, and easy to be entreated, full of mercy and good fruits, without partiality and without hypocrisy.” The first in the list or central column, carrying more weight than any of the other columns in the structure, is purity. Then there are six outside pillars. One is peaceableness; the next is gentleness; then comes reasonableness (“easy to be entreated”). The next phrase, “full of mercy and good fruits,” connotes helpfulness. The term for “without partiality” actually means humility, and then the final pillar is sincerity.

Thus, a life of genuine wisdom is a life founded upon the fear of the Lord and supported by genuine purity, peaceableness, gentleness, reasonableness, helpfulness, humility, and sincerity. Such a house will never fall! HMM

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hanjizung · 3 years

Text

Stranger Danger.

Lee Minho x Reader x Bang Chan

Word count: 3.1K

♡ Warnings ♡: SMUT, stablished relationship, open relationship, threesome, drinking, use of alcohol, voyeurism, vaginal & anal sex, unprotected & protected sex, use of lubrication, name calling, mentions of jealousy, slightly choking, hair pulling, creampie.

This was a request i got some time ago from this prompt list. [ 35) “Maybe I should get you a collar so you don’t forget who you belong to.”] I hope you all enjoy this!

Completely drunk, you tripped with your own feet, separating from the needy kiss to laugh at your carelessness and then pushing the guy you were with against your front door, your fingers got a hold of your keys quickly and magically they found their way to the lock.

The handsome stranger whose name you remembered to be something like Christian, Charlie –or just anything starting with C– continued to kiss your neck, leaving purpling bruises along your skin.

You opened the door, making Chase fall backward when you turned the doorknob to open it and get inside to continue your passionate encounter in the privacy of your home.

Again, you laughed and helped him stand still and close the door behind you, throwing your keys to the coffee table and letting your bag fall to the floor. Clayton missed no time in getting back at you, pushing you against the door and pinning your hands above your head. At this point your legs were already starting to shake, all the buildup of the moment since he told you hello at the club had been a great start, the jokes he'd told you, the flirty comments he allowed himself to say with a smirk and the way he let his large hands travel all over your body when you two were pushed together when dancing were the cause of this.

Of course, maybe this unholy state of horniness was also triggered by grand amount of alcohol you drank since you arrived at the place, but also because since a few days before you were feeling extra needy, and your hands and toys weren't enough to satisfy you anymore, you were craving a real man.

And this Christoph guy really offered to help you, when you grinded against him for the first time while dancing and he held you tight and growled in your ear. It had been a fantastic view, your hand on his cheek, his on your hip and his eyes closed with his nose scrunched and moving so he growled right in your ear. It turned you like you've never felt before.

You jumped after he indicated you to do so, carrying you to the nearest surface where he could start what he was there for.

Taking off your top, you threw it to the coffee table behind you, returning your attack to his mouth, your tongue all the way on his mouth savoring the alcohol he was drinking earlier with you.

The guy was as excited as you were, his hands were on your hips, his grip there being strong enough to leave some mark, and your hands took advantage of the position, touching his well marked abdomen and feeling his muscles.

Unluckily, all the fun that was about to happen ended when the front door opened again and the light turned on, and standing by the front door with a case that you knew was full of his own clothes and some gifts for you, stood your boyfriend.

He wasn't pissed, clearly. You'd call the expression on his face something more like 'amusement', as he enjoyed the view of you on top of some other guy. A raised eyebrow and devilish smile soon replaced the previous expression of surprise.

"Who is that?" the guy under you asked, but you just rolled your eyes and tried to kiss him. He didn't seem to be a bit bothered, as you felt the lack of a bulge against you.

"Oh, she didn't tell you about me? I'm Minho, her boyfriend" he answered for you, taking his jacket off and sitting on a couch next to where you were with the blond hottie.

"You have a boyfriend?" blondie asked. You nodded, not ashamed.

"We have an open relationship. Now please, weren't you going to fuck me?" you pouted, going near his ear to murmur something only he could hear. "I'm so needy, I've been so alone and I need to be filled, please help me…" and you looked at him, with your best puppy eyes.

Muscles smiled, shrugging. "If your boyfriend doesn't mind, I might as well help the pretty damsel then" he said, pulling you in for a kiss.

Minho sat silently, his eyes looking at every move and every touch of you with the other guy, he was paying special attention when you left little moans that encouraged the other man to do what you liked.

No name had special skills, his hands ghosting on your thighs as you grinded on him desperately, his hard cock hitting you again where it was before, and surprisingly, in the blink of an eye, Nameless had you under him, your panties on the floor and his fingers tracing circles around your clit, teasing you and causing you to close your eyes with a sigh, enjoying the attention that he was giving you.

Having your legs wide open, you knew that Carlos wasn’t the only one paying attention to the way your body was reacting; the way his long fingers made you drip, and how hot it was to be supervised by Minho. You were enjoying every second of this situation; being the center of attention and feeling so spoiled from how good you were being treated.

Long fingers suddenly entered you, making you moan and bite your lip. The guy who was between your legs added his thumb to the mixture and started massaging your clit in slow circles, he was making you feel amazing, but yet when you opened his eyes, you couldn't look at him, focusing on Minho instead. He had his hands on his thighs, the bulge in his pants allowed you to know what you already suspected, he was enjoying the show, maybe a little too much.

Connecting his eyes with yours, Minho smiled. That's when you tried to provoke him, moving one of your fingers to your lips and playing with them before allowing it to enter your mouth. You pretended that it was his hand instead, licking the index finger once and once again, until he couldn't resist and succumbed to your game, undoing his belt and taking his cock in his hands. You could see his tip leaking some precum, which he used to lubricate the rest of himself before he continued to enjoy the performance.

The unknown guy inserted another finger in you, making you squirm and moan particularly loudly –mostly because you wanted to give a proper show to your beloved boyfriend, but truly the guy knew what he was doing– and one of your hands went to take off the clothes that covered your hardened nipples, pinchen them between your pointer finger and your thumb and biting your lip, trying to look as the sexiest person alive. Your eyes traveled down to where he had his hand busy, and your mouth watered.

Minho had his cock in his hand, he was stroking it lazily, his fingers were so elegantly wrapped around it and his length was slightly glistening from the lubrication he provided, the illumination wasn't very good, but you were sure that you were a lucky one for being able to see him in that state; he seemed like he was one of those old fancy paintings that was controversial during the old days, his expression of pleasure when he closed his eyes in ecstasy and the wink he gave you when he saw you looking at him, plus the fingers that were inside you… you saw him mouthing you name and that was all it took to have you orgasm around the hottie's fingers, mumbling pure nonsense because your mind was blinded from how you felt.

You lied there, with your legs open and panting heavily, trying to recover from how intense that orgasm had been. Once you opened your eyes again, you looked into the blonde's lustful eyes and went "I want you to fuck me real hard" with your best puppy expression.

The giggle that came out of his mouth was adorable, but you didn't have time to think of that when you pulled his hand so he would be above you, him trying to steady himself to not fall on you and once he was steady, he aligned his cock with your entrance, you could already feel it, waiting for it so expectantly like a kid on a toy store…

Only to be left disappointed when Minho stood up and stopped the guy by placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I don't think I ever caught your name," Mimho said, grinning at him because he knew he ruined the experience for the both of you.

"I'm Chris, or Chan if you like that better. Do you have a problem? I thought you guys were okay with this" he said, removing himself from you. You rolled your eyes, but said nothing, waiting for Minho to handle the situation.

"Actually, yes, now that you ask, there is a little problem, but I think we can work together to solve it, depending on what Y/N says, of course" you looked at him with wide eyes when you heard your name, then looked at Chan to find him looking at you as well.

"Y/N, baby, you know you're precious and real hot stuff, I've missed you too, sexy, and I'm a little jealous that you're letting him fuck you first. What if we make an arrangement, huh?" he asked.

With an arched eyebrow, you answered him "what are you asking me, exactly?"

And the answer to your own question didn't come from him, surprising you.

"I think he wants me to fuck your ass… are you really okay with that? Of course you don't have to, you can suck me off too" Chris said, looking at Minho who nodded, and then at you.

Not answering, you stood up and ran to your room, bringing a half filled bottle of lube that you handed to Chan who was still on the couch.

"Good girl, God, I knew that you would be greedy enough to take the both of us at the same time. You, stand up" he said to Chris, who quickly followed your boyfriend's order.

Minho sat on the couch, taking off all his clothes and then making you sit on him, pumping himself a few times before entering you. Your previous climax helped for you to adjust to his size, and once you felt ready you simply nodded.

Chan seemed to understand, squirting a bit of lube on your asshole and massaging you gently for a few seconds. He pushed your back to Minho's chest, exposing your bottoms to him, and being this close to Minho, you heard him clearly when he spoke to you.

“Maybe I should get you a collar so you don’t forget who you belong to, hmm? What do you think, would you like that, kitten? A pretty collar with my name on it so you know who's your owner?" he asked, voice deep and serious to demonstrate his dominant voice. You felt his hand petting your hair gently when he was done asking you. Your cheeks blushed intensely at his words, an inevitable whimper coming out of your lips caused by the effect his questions had in you, but said nothing because you knew the way your walls tightened round him were enough reaction for him.

Behind you, you felt Chan aligning his member to enter you, the tip of a condom that you've never realized exactly when he put it on making you squirm in excitement as you turned your neck to look at him through your lashes, waiting for him to finally enter you and be destroyed by the two of them.

Chris smiled at you gently, and placing his hands on your hips to hold you still, he finally entered you. He started slowly, afraid of hurting you much from this weird sensation that you'd never grow accustomed to at all, and you opened your mouth, face resting on Minho's chest as you felt every inch of Chan going deeper into you. It was like that until he stopped, staying still for you to get used to the feeling of something inside your ass.

"Y-you can move now" you babbled, not only at Chan but to Minho as well, you were positive your body could take them at the same thought.

After hearing you, Chan growled under his breath, pulling out from you at the same pace he had entered you; under you, Minho placed his hands on your thighs and tried his best to do the same as Chan and finally start the real party, there was no ending to his plans until he had you screaming his name in pleasure.

Soon, the three of you found a good pace to follow, and then all that could be heard on your small department was the hurried breathing of the three of you, along with the particular noise of naked skin against more skin and your moans, crying out from how overwhelmed you felt. It was weirdly unexplainable, you felt amazing being with the two of you, but you felt so good that you couldn't think straight anymore.

Chan's hand snaked on your back until he reached your hair, his fingers tangling themselves on locks of your hair and suddenly pulling it, dragging a surprised scream from your throat.

Minho took that opportunity to his advantage, having you away from him but still inside you, he could clearly see you from under, appreciating how much of a goddess you seemed, he was enamored with everything of you, also seeming amazed at the fact of how much he was enjoying to see you being used by another man while you still showed that you preferred him over them.

He raised one of his hands to play with your chest, playing with your nipples with one hand as the other hand went higher to wrap itself around your exposed neck, it became too much of a te ration for him to simply ignore, so he squeezed you gently, carefully because you had too much going on already.

Meanwhile, Chan pulled you towards by your hair towards his chest. He wasn't as gentle as Minhon was trying to be, but the contrast of that excited you more.

His hand traveled across your stomach, you felt his hand touching every inch of skin that was on the way to where he was going, and when he reached there, he started leaving little kisses on your back, his fingers rubbing your clit and making you shake a little.

Upon seeing what he was doing, Minho stopped playing with your nipples to grab one of your hands that were holding his wrist, tangling his fingers with yours. From the was your oussy started to contract and the tears forming on the corner of your eyes, he knew that you were close.

His other hand left your throat free as he looked for your other hand to hold it as well, he wanted to let you know that he was there for you, and that he was paying attention to your reactions.

"I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum!" you cried out, causing Minho to smile gently and to move his hips to thrust as hard as he could into you to bring you over the edge.

He succeeded, and your mind went blank while strange noises of satisfaction came from you and your interiors squeezed Minho deliciously, he loved the face you made when you orgasmed, and adding that he was still inside you, he came a few seconds after you, letting all of him paint your interiors with his seed.

Judging by the lack of thrust from his counterpart, Minho realized that Chan had also found his release, removing his hand from your clit to wrap it around your waist until his orgasm was gone.

You lasted like that for a few minutes, being hold by Chan's powerful arms and eyes lazily open to look down at Mimho with a soft smile, you weren't sure if you were done for the night, the only thing you knew was that you were feeling tired.

Removing his hand from your hair, Chan freed himself of your hair and let you position yourself however you wanted above Minho, pulling out from you and taking off the used condom, standing up from the couch to throw it to the trash without saying anything, giving you and Minho a bit of privacy.

"Round two?" Minho asked you quietly, kissing your forehead and then pushing you back so he could get out of your sensitive pussy.

"Let me rest for a bit and then we can start again" you replied, picking Minho's shirt from the floor and cleaning his cum from your dripping pussy.

Chan came back and looked at the two of you with a raised eyebrow.

"What do you say of a round two, Channie?" you asked him playfully. He made a surprised face at your sudden question.

"Are you sure you can take more?" he said. You heard Mimho scoff next to you.

"I told you, she's my greedy kitten, always want more" he told him, "you're up for a next round, then? This time I'll let you her pussy, I have an idea of how we can shut her up, it's late and we don't want to wake the neighbors, right?" Minho said, turning his head to give you a playful smile.

"Sure, let's leave them sleep" you rolled your eyes. "Before we start again, can I propose that we move to the bedroom?" you looked at Minho who simply shrugged and nodded, so you turned your head to Chan to tell him where it was located, not that he needed to know because he had already found the bathroom on his own, but to let him go before you so you could breath and get mentally ready, excitement flowing on your skin.

Chan left, leaving you and Minho alone again. Your boyfriend politely gave you a hand so you could stand up from the couch, pulling your hand towards him so he could embrace you, kissing you harshly and as passionately as he wanted to do since he entered the house again, haply that he was finally able to do it.

"You're gonna be the fucking death of me, Y/N. You're a demon, you know that, right?" he whispered on your face, before kissing you again and leaving you out of breath.

"My wicked little angel, we should've done this sooner, you look so fucking hot when you're crying from pleasure, baby" and after saying that to you, he left in the direction of your room, leaving you behind to think.

You breathed in before going after them, stretching and cleaning the sweat off your forehead, product of the activity done before, and when you felt like you were ready, you went to your destination.

"Let's start the second round."

#stayverse #skz smut #skz fanfiction #stray kids smut #stray kids fanfiction #bang chan x reader #chan x reader #minho x reader #lee know x reader #chan x you #lee know x you #minho x you #chan smut #minho smut #bang chan smut #lee know smut #mine #original content

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rafesgfs · 4 years

Text

thank u, next (ft. loki)

Warnings: angst, swearing, jealousy, mentions of sex

Word count: 4.5k

Summary: A new team member in the group shakes things up for the super soldier.

Or: In which Steve casts you aside for a Carter only to regret his decision when he sees you with the God of Mischief.

"Yeet."

Swiveling your chair, you saw the empty pint of ice cream hit garbage can, bouncing off the rim and dropping on the floor with a light thump. You looked at Tony, shaking your head. "You've been hanging out with Peter too much."

"Why, thank you." Tony replied, smirking at you. "So, tell me, you sexy vixen, how do you feel with Thor bringing Loki? You were quiet during the whole argument that almost ended with Barton ripping out his eye."

You shrugged, the heels Tony had bought earlier drawing your attention to your feet. "I'm fine. I don't really care, I mean, I wasn't with you guys when New York happened so I don't really think I get to have an opinion about whether the mind-controlled God of Lies gets a spot in the team."

"You realize your on the team, right? I'm pretty sure your opinion matters especially with the mass murderer joining." Tony replied, accidentally hitting himself with the candy cane in his hands. "I really thought you were going to side with Cap on this one. You always do."

It wasn't a secret that Steve Rogers wasn't completely on board with the plan. That was pushing it; in other words: Steve Rogers despised the plan. If he could kill it, he would've. When Thor had proposed the plan to bring Loki on the team (a punishment from Odin himself)—trying to convince everyone he was "good" now—less than a handful had let him continue speaking. The rest wanted to riot. You had just sat there, a smirk on your face as you watched the six of them fight with each other while Fury shook his head, looking like a disappointed father.

When everyone had came to an agreement on Loki's trial period, there had been pages of rules on what he was restricted on doing including magic and stabbing. Of course, it was very specific so even the God of Mischief couldn't find a loophole. Maybe he could if he tried, which he probably will.

Clicking your tongue, you shrugged, ignoring the little pang in your chest. "Not on this. I'm smart enough to see that there's more reward than risk to have Loki on the team. For example: he's not bad to look at."

Tony choked on his candy cane, coughing up a large piece. With wide eyes, he studied you in silence, trying to figure out if you had been joking. "Are you serious? We should bring you to Helen so you can get your head checked. There's a chance you might have a concussion from the last mission."

"You have eyes, you can see how regal he is despite not genuinely being born royal. And those cheekbones..." you trailed off, biting your lip at Loki's handsome features. Tony raised an eyebrow, slowly shaking his head. "Not that his perfect bone structure justifies all the people he's killed. I'm just very observant being an avenger and all."

"Uh-huh, yeah, yeah, yeah, sure." Tony mumbled, leaning back on his chair, his eyes narrowing after your confession. "Ms. Natalia Romanoff didn't get the chance to tell me what happened between you and old Capsicle."

Rolling your eyes, you spun around in your chair, facing away from the nosy billionaire. "There's not that much to tell. We talked, we liked each other, then the sun came up and reality set in as the form of Sharon Carter. It didn't take long for him to ditch me to go for Peggy's niece. Anyways, been there, done that. People change."

"You're not the same girl I met." Tony stated. "On that note, Rogers' old brain is still defrosting and he's getting older so I don't think he knows how stupid he is...yet."

"And I'm not going to wait for him to find out." you muttered, a loud sound coming from the big yard. Looking through the garage window, you saw the blinding light before two figures in different colored capes appeared, the blinding light ruining the fresh-cut grass. Beaming at Tony, you got up. "Want to plan a party with me?"

"You say that like I'd have the ability to say no. Tonight?" Tony replied, grinning at thought of loud electronic dance music and booze.

Getting up, the stilettos clicked on the floor, your perfect pedicure peeking through the hole. Smiling, you walked towards the door. "Well, we are in the presence of two Gods. I think it's only fair we celebrate like it."

"I'm putting Party in the USA on the track-list!"

Rushing to the lawn where the rest of the team gathered, your mood was lightened by the sight of the golden haired retriever in disguised as a jacked God. Ignoring the others, you threw yourself at Thor, the God of Thunder catching you, arms tightening around your body. You let out a breathless laugh, momentarily forgetting your idiotic plan to avoid Steve. "Thor!"

Thor guffawed, lifting you off the ground, shouting your name in glee before letting you breathe again. "My favorite avenger! Miss me?"

"Duh." you responded, glancing at Loki, who had magically changed into an all-black suit, his shoulder length raven-colored hair slicked back. His eyes narrowed slightly at the team who had defeated him. He looked even better in person. "So, that's Loki."

Natasha spoke up before either Asgardian could. She stepped closer, observing him with you. "Not sure. He isn't as smug as before—"

"And he's missing those horrendous reindeer horns he was wearing." Clint chimed in, crossing his arms. His hate for Loki—which had increased when he found out the man who once controlled him was coming to the team—was almost as deep as Steve's. "He looks like a witch in that black suit."

Thor snickered, releasing Loki from the handcuffs that held him. "As you all know, my adopted brother's punishment from Father is to help Earth's Mightiest Heroes. Loki understands all the rules, and he will so follow them accordingly. Isn't that right, brother?"

Loki rolled his eyes, sighing before reluctantly nodding. "Yes, I will."

"Let me make this clear, Loki." Steve stepped up, Sharon right behind him, face composed. You had to fight the urge to roll your eyes at the couple. "If you break one rule, no matter how small, you will be sent back to Asgard and face Odin's alternate punishment. Just so you're clear, we won't hesitate to send you back."

The God of Mischief smirked, feeling smug knowing he could push the super soldier's buttons. "Of course, Captain. I wouldn't dream of breaking the rules enforced."

Everyone could sense the sarcasm and mockery in his voice, all of them tensing. Thor sighed, clapping his brother on the back, the force making Loki take a steps forward. "Come on, brother. I'll show you your quarters before you get punched by Lady Natasha."

Without waiting for Loki to answer, Thor practically pulled Loki's arm off, pulling him towards the building, crossing the ruined lawn that Tony would bitch about later. Everyone followed them, staying a few feet back, wary of the new team member. You noticed Steve stealing glances at you, quickly moving away from Sharon's side and made his way to you.

Without being too obvious, you squeezed your way between Bruce and Natasha, snaking your arms between there's, hoping it would give Steve the impression not to talk to you. Ever. Natasha threw you a sympathetic smile, squeezing your wrist while Bruce raised an eyebrow, clearly confused.

Thor continued talking about the new compound, leading his brother to the entrance while pointing out installments that would've seemed impressive to a simple "midgardian."

He might've unconsciously murdered people but he kinda thicc.

At that exact moment, Loki turned around, his piercing blue eyes meeting yours. His smirk grew, glancing between you and Steve before turning back. It had been so quick that you weren't sure it even happened. The group scattered as soon as they stepped a foot inside; Bruce heading to the lab, Steve following him while Sharon split and headed up to Medbay, Natasha hitting the gym with Clint, leaving you alone with Thor and Loki.

Unfortunately, Thor's room had been across yours, the empty room next to yours becoming Loki's so both a spy and a god could keep an eye on the trickster. Both Tony and Steve had fought on that, Steve concerned about your safety while Tony argued back, telling him you could keep yourself safe. If not, Thor was there. That had angered you; Steve didn't think you were capable of fighting off Loki if it came to it, and that made you roll your eyes at him, exiting the room.

"...and this will be your quarters. Decorate it any way you want, just no magic." Thor continued, reaching the area of your rooms. It was a big arc, the area looking like a semi-circle with three doors spaced evenly out. "My chambers is across Lady Y/N's, so we won't have any problems. She's a smart one, brother. Anything else to add, Sunshine?"

You ignored the nickname, eyes narrowing at the black-suited man. "There's a party tonight 'celebrating' the addition to the team. It starts at 8 so don't be late or else Tony will have your head. Also, if you wake me up before seven in the morning, watch your back 'cause I hold grudges."

Giving Thor a smile, you head to your room, closing the door with a sigh. On the other side, you heard Loki chuckle once. "I like her."

"She's serious. She almost ripped my heart out the one time I accidentally woke her from her slumber." Thor added, the clap on his brother's back loud. "Get ready for the party, Loki."

Loki had been forced in his room by his brother, the door closing after him. He listened carefully, hearing you plop on your bed. He bit back a smirk, a plan unfolding in his brain. With a swift gesture of a finger, the room had been decorated, the hideous white theme changing into an exact copy of Loki's bedroom in Asgard.

The day went by fast as you wasted it away planning the party with Tony, who had, in no way, helped. You had ran off to your room once the people Tony had hired came, setting up everything in the main room. As you walked to the three-bedroom wing, you saw Steve rocking back and forth in front of your door, his hands in his pocket while Thor gushed about his flying hammer.

Relief washed over his face as soon as he spotted you, and you almost turned around, wishing you had gone to Natasha's room to get ready.

Steve called out your name, abruptly ending his conversation with Thor. As you walked closer, you could see the concern etched on his face. "Hey, are you okay?"

Thor watched your reaction, your face fighting the urge to make a face at America's sweetheart. Maneuvering your body, you slid between the two men to get to your room. "I'm fun-fucking-tastic. Thor, remind Loki about the party. I didn't spend the whole day with Tony for Loki to miss his own party."

"I'll be there, darling." Loki chimed in, his head poking out of his bedroom. Everyone turned to look at him, seeing the not-so-subtle wink he gave you.

Ignoring Steve's clenched fists, you moved past them, entering your room. Before closing the door, you said, "Tony requests the presence of all three of you, by the way. There's no way you're getting out of this. See you at 8!"

With a sighed of relief, you closed the door in Steve's face, the loud slam cutting off whatever he was about to interject. He could talk to Sharon about whatever shit he was dealing with, the girl he chose. You were no longer someone he could vent to after the shit he pulled, leading you on before leaving for Sharon Carter. It was then that you came to the decision to not love so easily.

Getting ready for the party took longer than you thought it would, the hot shower burning your skin to the point your skin started to redden. Your mind wandered to Loki, curios about the wink. Maybe it was his way of messing with people, a loophole that had not been included in the agreement. Realizing how inappropriate it was to think about the God while showering, you quickly turned the water off and stepped out.

Knowing Natasha, she's be disappointed if you didn't dress up like your inner slut, the one that got fucked up in Tokyo, and the petty hoe who would do everything to make Steve Rogers regret his decision. Well, you weren't going to let your sestra down.

The sultry, tight red dress was almost too short to be considered decent. With it's low cropped top, your tits we're begging for attention, the bra non-existent. Your new motto: protect the city, free the titties. The matching red stilettos would've been a pain if you hadn't started wearing them so early in your life. You let your hair down, running hand through it before slapping some natural makeup on your face, trying not to look desperate for attention.

It was around 8:15 when you finally finished, already exhausted by the amount of work you had to put on for others, but mostly for yourself. Either Tony or Natasha would come barreling through your door if you were going to be any later. Rushing, you took a quick look in the mirror before opening your door, nearly bumping into the God of Mischief.

He was dressed in a black buttoned-downed dress shirt with matching dress pants. Like before, his hair was slicked back, the shoulder length, raven hair looking silky and sexy. You both eye each other, eyes appreciating the sight in front of them. It wasn't until you finally met his eyes that he cleared his throat, a smug smile covering half his face.

"Would you mind accompanying me to the party, Lady Y/N? My brother is an idiot and cannot give a proper tour with his minuscule organ that he calls a brain. As of that, I do not know where this celebration is held." Loki explained, holding out his arm, waiting for you to take it. He raised an eyebrow while you hesitated. "If not, I could just follow you and everyone would assume I'm planning to have your head."

"Jesus Christ, you and Thor are so fucking dramatic." you grumbled, taking Loki's arm, your arm snaking around his. "Must run in the family, huh?"

"I'm adopted."

"I don't care."

Loki darkly chuckled, feeling your warm body against his, letting himself grow closer, enough that he could feel more of you but not enough that you would've noticed. "I sincerely hope you don't take this the wrong way, but you look rather ravishing, darling."

"Have you ever thought of cutting your hair?" you replied, loving the way Loki's smug expression wavered—probably expecting a compliment—before composing himself. "You'd look less like Johnny Depp from Pirates of the Caribbean."

"I don't understand." Loki said, leading you towards the elevator. For someone who claimed they didn't know where they were headed, he had the sense of knowing where everything was.

You waved the pop culture reference away, pushing the elevator button. "You wouldn't. Is Thor already at the party?"

"I'm quite positive."

The rest of the walk to the main room was quiet, neither of you making small talk as you led him. More like, he led you. You were suspicious he had stayed back and faked not knowing the compound in order to mess with you. But you waved that thought away, focus on getting distracting yourself from Steve.

You could hear the party before seeing it, the big room had been half full, not too much, not too little, yet you had been surprised considering how extra Tony could be. Letting go of Loki's arm, you walked to the bar where Natasha was sipping a glass of whiskey, ignoring the rest of the party. She pulled out a bottle of gin as you arrived, raising an eyebrow at your accompanied date.

"Before you say anything, he didn't know where the party was so he asked me to guide him. Nicely if I might add." you said, pushing back the bottle, settling on a bottle of water instead.

Natasha smirked, watching Loki interact with his brother, a frown deepening on his face. "He knows where everything is, Thor gave him the whole tour while you were with Tony. Can't believe you took the bait."

"Ugh." you grumbled, wishing you could forget about tomorrow and drown your problems in alcohol but the last hangover nearly killed you.

"Stevie doesn't look to happy with you showing up with Loki." Natasha noticed, the smirk widening as she watched Steve's glare grew more lethal as Loki's grin got bigger. "This is so much better than America's Next Top Models fails. Do you wanna bet that one of them will punch the other before the party is over?"

"Daddy, chill." you mimicked, turning to see how enraged old Capsicle is. But with the blonde besides him, looking up him in both wonder and worry, he had no right to be angry at Loki for attending a party that had been thrown for him, despite the many people he murdered—while being controlled. "He can't seriously still be sour about Loki joining."

The redhead giggled, a little drunk from the amount of alcohol she already consumed. "I don't think that's what he's so broody about, not anymore at least. He was smiling until he saw you on Loki's arm."

"Ain't my fault he chose Peggy's niece over me, meaning he doesn't get to be jealous whether Loki is my date or a walker for these killer stilettos." you muttered, secretly loving and hating the jealousy that oozed out of Steve Rogers. Even his blonde date had noticed. "Look at these heels, aren't they gorgeous?"

"Almost as gorgeous as you." Natasha replied, winking just before she drowned the rest of her drink. She winced a little at the taste.

"How many of those have you had?" you wondered, eyeing the spy. After the worst hangover of both your lives, Natasha had made you swear to never let her get that drunk again. Although with the rate she was going, you feared you had been too late.

She shrugged, taking your bottle of water. "Four. Oh, look, here comes Steve."

Before you could ditch, Steve leaned against the counter, his blue buttoned down shirt matching his blue eyes. Natasha not-so-subtly walked to the other side of the bar, motioning for Bruce to keep her company, although knowing her, she'd listen to every word.

"Rogers," you greeted coldly, looking everywhere but him. He tensed at your cold greeting, the frown looking permanently pressed on his face. "Enjoying the party?"

"Yeah."

Lie.

"Good."

You sat there for a good two minutes before he cleared his throat, shifting his weight nervously from one foot onto the other. Steve coughed in his fist. "So...living near Loki isn't too much trouble, is it? He causing any trouble, yet?"

"Sweet as an angel." you replied sarcastically, wishing you were anywhere but here. Loki caught your eye, raising a hand to wave and the group that had been brave enough to be near him, gasped in shock, the noises audible across the room. Their reactions made you chuckle.

Steve cleared his throat, this time louder. "Would you like to dance?"

"Ask your girlfriend." you fired back, satisfied by the hurt on his face. After the stunt he pulled, leading you on only to stomp of your heart, you wanted to be selfish and make him suffer just a little bit. Thankful, Loki came to your rescue.

Ignoring Steve, he held out his arm once again, a smile playing on his lips as he took in the tense situation between you and Steve. But before he could utter a single word, Sharon decided it was the perfect time to come looking for Steve. She assessed the situation, awkwardly noting Loki's presence.

"Er, hello." Sharon said, standing in false bravery. She wouldn't admit it, but she was afraid of the God of Mischief.

Loki gave her a curt nod and held out a hand to you instead, easily fitting yours in his. He murmured your name, softly kissing your knuckles. "Would you like to dance? This is the first song that came on that has not made me want to tear my ears off."

"Why, yes, I would." you agreed with a grin, moving your body close to Loki as you reached the unofficial dance floor, everyone's eyes on the both of you, with shock and slight fear. You would've cackled at their reactions—and it looked like Loki wanted to, too—if you hadn't been raised with manners. "Thank you."

Loki raised an eyebrow, surprised by the words. "For what, if I may ask?"

"Saving me back there. I don't need that kind of drama in my life. Not anymore." you explained, drinking in the warmth of his arm wrapping around your waist as you both slowly swayed to the slow song.

The raven-haired God smiled—not the smug smirk he wore, but a genuine one that Thor hadn't seen his brother wear for a few years now. "My pleasure. A lady like you deserves someone who'll give her his undivided attention. Any suitor would be lucky to have a tenth of your attention."

A coping mechanism: you rolled your eyes but you couldn't help the small smile that forced itself on you lips. You bit it back, hoping no one had noticed.

Loki had. And he meant every word he said.

By the end of the night, you found yourself naked, against the wall and legs wrapped around Loki's waist. Lips crashed against one another, soft kisses trailing down necks, leaving little love marks that would surely be dark. But at the moment, you didn't care. Not when Loki whispered sweet nothings in your ear as he took you from behind, above, underneath, and even on the side. You had both been teasing each other at the party and now you had given in, no matter the consequences.

—

Annoyed Steve had missed the date he had asked you on, you walked up to his room, heels clicking. You had waited for him for over two hours, texted him and getting no replies, leaving the restaurant with the humiliation of being stood up.

But as you neared his door, you heard crying. But it wasn't Steve. Peeking inside, you saw Sharon. Pretty, talented Sharon. Her eyes were red, tears steaming down her cheeks while Steve hugged her shoulders, resting his chin on her head as he comforted her. Jealousy and hurt knocked the breath out of you.

You waited.

And waited.

And it happened. Leaning in slowly, he kissed her. Softly, like he had kissed you. And she kissed him back, finding comfort in the kiss.

Heart breaking in two, you left, leaving the door open. The couple broke their kiss long enough to see you walk away through the slit of the door. Steve hung just head, feeling terrible. But Sharon had helped him as he had. This time, they hadn't stopped at kissing, forgetting the girl who had her heart broken by the man who claimed he would never hurt her.

Steve knew it was over between you two, but he could focus his attention on caring as much as he wanted to when Sharon kept kissing him. He did try to apologize only to learn you had went to visit Thor in Asgard, leaving him to feel sorry for himself and his decisions. Yet, he still found temporary comfort in Sharon's arms.

—

You woke to the warmth of Loki's arms around you. Opening your eyes, you found yourself tangled limbs with the God of Lies, your hair a mess, a hand over his chest and a leg over his waist. Your cheek rested on the crook of his neck, fitting perfectly as if he was made for you.

"Good morning." Loki whispered, stroking your hair with one hand, the other softly massaging your thigh. "Sleep well?"

Nuzzling into his neck, you snorted at the irony. "Don't know, considering we didn't do much sleeping."

Loki chuckled, pressing a soft kiss on your head. "Touché. It would only be fair of me to apologize for the love marks I left on your soft skin last night. Forgive me but I could not help myself."

Gasping, you jumped up, looking at the vanity mirror across your bed to find your collarbone, neck, and the top of your breast covered in Loki's hickeys. He looked rather proud of himself than sorry. "Loki!"

"Please note my apologies are genuine when they are directed towards you. Although, I have to admit, I'm quite proud of myself. It's my best art." Loki announced, bringing himself up on his elbows, eyes ravaging your naked flesh, littered with his marks.

Noticing the difference between your bodies, you quickly turned around to see the reflections had been right; Loki's body remained unmarked. "I swear to god I left hickeys and bite marks all over you last night."

"You tried but got rather mad when my skin healed itself." Loki explained, pulling you back in his warm arms. The soft gesture surprised you, the whole situation coming into light. You had slept with Thor's murderous brother. Loki read your thoughts. "Don't be like that, love. What what I can remember, you enjoyed yourself last night quite immensely. If it will make you feel better, I can show all the love bites you made the night before."

Thankful you hadn't drank anything last night, you had been so happy to not wake up with a hangover and Loki. Turning to face him, you raise an eyebrow. "What?"

With a smirk, his chest gleamed green for a second before it uncovered layers and layers of hickeys, and reddening bite marks. It was identical to yours. You gasped in shocked while Loki stared at you in amusement, his arms tightening. "You did a little bit of damage. I'm proud."

"Holy shit—" you were cut off by Thor and Steve bursting into your room, the sudden motion making you cover up your naked chest with a shriek. The two men's jaws dropped as they took in the scene, Loki's bare chest covered with the evidence from last night, his arms wrapped around you while you stared at them with wide eyes. "Knock, goddamnit!"

Both of them stood in silence, their brains not processing what was in front of them. Steve's eyes had mirrored yours from when you caught him kissing Sharon, eyes watering, you could see his heart breaking just by making eye contact. But at that moment, you couldn't find yourself to care, not with Loki's arms around you.

"What—" Thor began.

Loki smirked, kissing your bare shoulder. "Hello, brother."

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#chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #loki #loki x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x sharon carter #marvel #captain america #angst #jealousy #chris evans x reader

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