#(but the phone was already stashed and the pack was up)

[freepassbound]

The off-kilter pictures (one literally).

[peachesofteal]

Light on - single mom/neighbor fic Simon Riley/female reader This will make the most sense if you read this first

Simon is chopping vegetables when the power goes down.

It happens in slow motion. The lights waver, warm yellow glow from the living room lamp trembling before it goes out with the television, along with the bright white glaze of the bulbs in the kitchen. They flicker, they flare, dipping his world into darkness.

Months ago, he might have panicked. His anxiety might have peaked, he would have considered checking the locks, ensuring the shades are drawn, validated any weak points of entry. He would have gone for closest stashed handgun.

But things are different now. His mind doesn't jump to a security breach, or an imminent threat. He doesn't consider his consider his "go bag", he doesn't reach for his "work" phone.

Instead, he only thinks of you.

He raises his voice to ensure it reaches you through the flat. "Think we lost power."

"Simon!" Your voice is drenched in fear, the two syllables of his name dripping in it, white flash of panic just on the edge, and the knife goes down easy on the cutting board, carrots and celery nearly finished, electric burners on the stove turning from red to black. Candles. There are candles in here somewhere, aren't there? And flashlights.

"Sweetheart?" The flashlight on his cell clicks on, and he double checks the knife is safely away from the edge of the counter. He calls your name, waiting for a response, for an acknowledgment from Emma's room, where the door is open with his girls inside, one of them fresh out of the bath and hopefully, nearly asleep.

There's no answer. He sweeps the flashlight across the ground, hoping to avoid blinding you or Emmaline, working his way closer to the pitch black doorway. The space in his mind that was calm a moment ago, now begins to spiral. Why aren't you answering him? "Honey? You alright?"

Emma begins to cry. It's not her hungry cry, or her full nappy cry, or her attention cry, but something else, something scared. Distressed.

He's in the room with the flashlight pointed at the ceiling to ensure it bounces off the white paint and around the four walls within a second, heart now hammering in his chest, and when he finds you, spine stiff, eyes peeled wide in terror, something in him breaks.

You're standing in front of the crib, Emmaline cradled tightly in your arms, rapid rise and fall of your chest too fast, too uncontrolled, your usual whimsical, effortless beauty marred by a grim absence, your body frozen into a cage around the baby, empty gaze locked on the floor.

He recognizes it immediately. Knows it too well, knows it in himself better than anything else, a cursory reaction pushing him forward- his touch over yours, his hands supporting Emma's weight. You gasp into him, wild, staggered breaths that make his stomach twist, and he rubs a soothing palm down your spine. "It's okay." He coos. "You're okay, just breathe. I'm here. You're safe, mama, I've got you." Emma hollers, confused and scared, and he pulls her into his chest, holding her there with one arm, another still tethered to you, trying to jog you back to yourself, to your body. To him. "Just breathe, sweetheart. You're alright, take a big breath."

It doesn't work, and he can't do both, so he makes a split second decision, one he hopes doesn't make everything worse. "I know, baby girl. I know. Mama's alright, she's okay." He bounces Emma, relaxing a fraction when her crying settles, and then leans in to cup your cheek, tipping your face up to his. "I'm going to put her in the living room, honey. In the pack and play, okay? I'll be right back. Jus' keep breathing." You give him nothing except for an attempt at a deeper inhale, and he soothes Emma with a close cuddle, finding your phone and pulling it from the dresser to make sure the baby isn't left alone in the dark.

She goes into the little pen in the living room so easily, already nearly asleep again, and he pats her back for a moment, ensuring she's comfortable before running into the room, back to you.

You're blinking now, cheeks wet and shining in the dark, breathing a bit less haggard, and it kills him, haunts him, to see you so terrified, so lost in your own head. "Hey sweetheart. Can you hear me?" He touches you carefully, intentionally, the lack of resistance encouraging to the point he feels confident enough to hold you, cradling your head against his chest, curled over your body like a shield.

"Si-Simon." Your fingers tighten into his side.

"It's me. I'm here, I've got you."

"Em..."

"She's in the next room. She's okay." He smooths a palm over your temple, into your hair. "Let's take a look at you, sweet girl, can we do that? Can you look at me?" You tilt back, eyes and lids sluggish, but with it, conscious, and the anxious knot in his heart relaxes slightly.

"The lights." You stammer, and he nods.

"The electric went out. Did it scare you?" You give him a confused look, like you didn't hear him, or didn't understand. He strokes a thumb across your tear stained cheek and repeats himself. "It's okay, did the dark give you a fright?"

"N-no. Not..." You shake with the denial. "It's... is there a fire?"... what? He cocks his head. A fire?

Oh.

Oh.

His sweet, sweet girl. Not afraid of the dark, only lost and tormented by your grief. Terrified of losing again, trapped in a nightmare that is all too familiar to him.

"No, there's no fire, angel. I'm right here. I'm here, with you." He uncurls your frozen fingers to splay them flat against his chest, over where his heart thumps steadily, covering it with his own. "I'm not going anywhere, I promise."

"You promise." You croak, and he hums, rocking you slowly, gently swaying in the dim light of the phone's flashlight.

"I promise." He swallows the shiver in his voice, burying his nose atop your hair, holding you as tightly as he can. "I swear. Nothing could keep me from you, nothing. Remember?" You rasp out a yeah, feathery soft and feeble, and he kisses the crown of your head, sweet and slow, rubbing your back, your shoulders, kneading the tension from your muscles until the glaze of your panic fades, somber expression tightening across your face. "None of that." He whispers, because he knows what you'll say, he know how you'll try to apologize, try to explain it. "I know, sweetheart. I know."

He gets you folded up on the couch in his arms after locating and lighting most of the candles, setting up a few flashlights in the bathroom and bedroom, collection of mix matched scents littering the coffee table. You're weepy and exhausted, watching Emma sleep in the pack and play, her blissful little face sugar plum sweet as she dreams, and he tucks you into his chest, laying you down, facing her, mouth pressing little kisses to your temple, your cheek, your ear.

"Close your eyes." He encourages when you yawn. "You can sleep. I just want to hold you." The fireplace pops, and you crack an eyelid wide.

"She might wake up." You mumble.

"I know, I'll get her." He soothes, and you wilt, easily reassured by him, something that makes his chest swell with pride. He keeps his fingers moving, stroking across your skin, settling you into twilight, and just as you slip into your own dreams, he whispers a final testament, something he carries with him, every second of every day. "I've got you. I've got you both."

[strawberrypoundtown]

Bullheaded

Bruce Soli x Witch!Reader

Your best friend talks to you about an issue he's been dealing with, hoping to maybe get some magical assistance from you. However, his issue evolves into something much bigger when he asks for some physical help too...

(This was technically supposed to be finished in time for 400 followers, but you guys are way too fast for me 🥲 we're already past 450 and I couldn't be more grateful 😭 i hope you guys enjoy this! This guy is part of a collaboration project between me, @the-witches-creatures (Ari and Bloom belong to her) and @silken-moonlight and I hope you enjoy! This took a lot longer than I wanted it to, and once again, I made it way too long lol I apologize for such a large gap between my posts, as I am currently still a busy college student, but I'm trying my best! I hope the quality makes up for it lol enjoy the show!)

Contains: size kink, weed use, oral sex, fingering, unprotected sex, boob job, loss of virginity, breeding kink, pregnancy risk, bulging, a lot of cum

"SON OF A BITCH!!" You heard Bruce suddenly bellow from his room angrily, followed by a loud crash. A long sigh escaped your lips as you broke your meditation and got up. It was a full moon. He knew not to disturb you when you were meditating, especially during the full moon. You got up with a huff and stomped over to his bedroom, throwing the huge heavy door open with the assistance of your magic.

"What the fuck do you want?! You know I need SILENCE during a full moon, you fucking dickhead!" You yelled at him. You were the only one that could talk to him like that without getting put in the hospital. You crossed your arms and furrowed your brow, ensuring he knew how pissed off you were. This shit always happened during the full moon. You saw him with his phone in pieces on the floor between his legs. He was sitting on the edge of his giant bed, tugging on his ears as he groaned in anger.

"Fuck you, bitch! I don't need your fucking attitude right now!" He yelled as he turned to you. Getting a better look at his eyes, they looked red and the fur under his eyes were wet from tears. However, the strange thing was that it didn't look like it was because he took too hard of a rip like you usually found him. In fact, his bong was completely untouched so far tonight from the looks of it. Your anger dissipated slightly as you looked at him. Sure he was a dickhead, but if something was really wrong, you did want to help.

"What's going on then? Why are you being an asshole?" You ask, scoffing a bit as you rolled your eyes. You knew jumping into feelings right away in conversations would go nowhere. You learned from experience.

"I'm not fucking trying to be!" He tugs at his ears again before burying his face in his hands. He grunts softly with each breath as he tries to calm down. He didn't want to be the cause of another noise complaint if he wasn't already. "Go back to your shit. I want to be alone and smoke." He grumbled as he went to open his stash box next to his bong on his bedside table. You let out a long sigh before walking over, literally jumping onto his bed because it's much taller than yours. He scoffs as he watches you in the corner of his eye, but doesn't tell you to leave. You liked to think that he liked having you around. At least a little bit.

As he absent-mindedly packed a bowl, his mind wandered. He had planned on going out to meet with a lady werewolf who needed help during the full moon, but he had gotten ghosted once again. As soon as he told her how big he was, she said she couldn't do it and didn't respond to his texts after that. That's why his phone was broken. He was so frustrated with this happening and had no idea what to do. Even other minotaurs didn't want him. Because of his temper and his size, most people couldn't handle him.

You could, though. A human witch. Although he found your presence annoying at the beginning of your friendship, he had grown to deeply care for you. You were always there, whether he wanted you there or not.

"Hey idiot." You say as you waved your hand in front of him to get his attention. He snaps back from his thoughts and looks down at you. "What's going on?" You ask with genuine concern. Concern for him. Concern you had shown him whenever he opened up to you. But he was frustrated that he had distracted you from what you were doing and didn't want to bother you. He stayed silent as he just stared at you for a moment, internally screaming out of guilt.

He didn't really understand much about your practice, but he knew the full moon was important for you, and you needed it to be as quiet as possible in the apartment. Usually, he'd be able to go out and practice with the band, but they were all busy. He figured that going out and hopefully getting laid for real for the first time would kill two birds with one stone.

That's right, folks, Bruce is a virgin. It wasn't from lack of trying, but everyone he had tried to sleep with found him to be way too big. No matter the monster, he was always left blue-balled and frustrated in more ways than one. It didn't help that you were always around. You always smelled so good. Poor guy couldn't even get any peace in his own room. The whole apartment smelled like you, even when you weren't around. It drove him crazy.

All of a sudden, his phone, now intact, plopped into his lap, and he once again snapped back to reality. He picked it up and looked it over before staring back at you. Why were you so nice to him when he treated you like shit? You always called him your best friend, but that statement made him sad in many ways. You deserved someone better to hold that title. He also wished he had a different title, but knew he deserved that one even less.

"There. I can perform a durability spell on it tonight if you want? It'll be extra strong since it's a full moon. I don't want to have to keep repairing it all the time." You said with a soft laugh, and he just nodded in response with a faint grunt. He could listen to your laugh for hours. You leaned in close to him and placed a hand on his thigh as you reached over, grabbing his phone from his hand. You used his leg to help yourself hop off the bed, and you smiled up at him. "Go ahead and smoke a bowl while I go do this, drama queen. It won't take long. Make yourself useful and pack me a bowl for when I get back too." You pat his thigh before walking out of his room, leaving him alone to his thoughts. The sensation of your hand on his thigh lingered for a moment after you left and he gently put his hand over top of where yours was. As touch starved as he is, he never tried to touch you. He was too worried about hurting you, as he had been too rough with you early on in your friendship and caused some pretty bad bruises. God he wanted to hold you though. He wanted you all to himself.

He slammed his palm into his forehead with a grunt before angrily grabbing his bong and his torch lighter. He needed to smoke. He couldn't keep thinking like that. He knew you deserved a kind, gentle guy. He wasn't kind or gentle. He was harsh. Hurtful. Harmful. That's how you got stuck with him in the first place.

He had recently transferred to your school halfway through senior year of high school. He had been expelled from his last school, and his grandma had contacted the school to see if anyone could keep an eye on him. When they were briefed on his temper and his size, the school administrators invited you to take on the role.

You were a bit of an outcast in your school, despite being surrounded by odd, magical creatures and fellow magic users. You often studied alone and in silence. You would perform unauthorized spell experiments during class, damaging things so you could repair them, and didn't talk to people unless spoken to. This led to people avoiding you, finding you odd or creepy.

So when you said you'd keep an eye on Bruce, they were surprised how quickly you agreed. To say he was shocked at your immediate yes after meeting him was an understatement. He had point blank told you that there was no way he was going to have a babysitter at school, much less a tiny human. Without a word, you used your magic to turn him into a large frog and told the administrators you agreed. He turned back. Eventually.

After that, you two were basically glued together. You got good grades, so you went out of your way to make sure he was caught up with the material. You always tried to help him the best you could, even if he was abrasive towards you. You knew from his Nonna that he actually seemed to have a soft spot for you, despite his protesting. You learned from her how to handle a lot of his outbursts. How his tempermental ass was related to such a sweetheart was a mystery to you.

You also had never told Bruce, but you had a huge thing for big monster guys. It was a big reason why you had said yes to keeping an eye on him. Or at least a huge bonus. The main reason was when you saw all the scars on his arms and face. You wanted to find out more about him, and it seemed like if you didn't take him, nobody else would have.

You heard the bubbling of his bong and the lighting of his torch as you finished up the spell on his phone in your room. It shouldn't break now. At least you had hoped not. Durability spells worked better on larger objects. The bigger it was, the harder it was to break. He had broken a few phones and bongs despite them being protected by your magic. He hadn't typically broken anything bigger than one of his large plates after you put the spell on all his things. However, even though his phone was the size of a tablet for you, it was still too small to be fully protected by the spell.

You let out a soft sigh and thought about all the nights you had thought about casting it on yourself. It was just a simple sigil, followed by a phrase you had made shortly after you had met Bruce. Once you had it mastered and tailored it to Bruce's strength, you slapped that thing on everything he would come in contact with that he used everyday. You just had to draw it on his stuff or carve it in if you wanted it to be extra strong. You had even considered finding a fellow magic user to tattoo it on you due to your... romantic interests.

You would have never admitted it to his face, but from the moment you saw him, you thought he was cute. What can you say? You like a big guy you could tame. You like an experiment. He was a giant, angry bull, and you wanted to ride him. You still did. But you knew his reputation. He never showed any interest in you and only saw you as a friend from your perspective. He had been with a lot of other people over the years, always busy on the weekends and late at night. As you walked back into his room with his phone, he was in the middle of rolling one of his giant joints.

"Really? Those things are massive. They make me feel like I'm sucking on a tail pipe." You groaned as you jumped onto his bed and crawled over to him. He rolled his eyes and scoffed, trying not to let his eyes wander as he watched you out of the corner of his eyes. The sight of you crawling onto his bed was something he enjoyed a lot more than he should.

"You're so fucking dramatic. This is for me. I already packed you a bowl for your bong, princess." He said with a small smirk tugging at his lips. He brought joint up to his lips, lighting it and inhaling. You suddenly snatched the joint from his lips, smirking as you brought to your own. "You couldn't handle this stuff. It's a special strength for bigger monsters like me." He softly grumbles, exhaling the smoke through his nostrils and into your face, rattling his septum ring.

"Oh yeah?" You jumped up on his bed and grabbed one of his horns with a giggle. You use his horn to tug his head closer to yours, purring into his ear teasingly. "I can handle more than you think."

"Fuck... don't do that..." He hissed through grit teeth. His voice dripped in an unfamiliar tone as he spoke. You felt your face flush as you quickly let go of his horn. His eyes snapped to look at you, and you felt a bit of fear for a moment. But when you read the look in his eyes, your heart started to pound. You hadn't seen him make that look before.

Lust.

"I-I'm sorry." You stammered as your face burned from the rush of blood. "I forgot you don't like your horns touched... did I hurt you?" You actually were a bit worried that you just hurt him or he was upset. He hadn't actually gotten upset with you in a really long time, so it was possible you just mistook his anger for lust, right? There's no way he actually looked at you like that.

He suddenly coughed and snatched the joint away from you, avoiding eye contact as he took a long drag from it. He hunched over as one of his elbows rested on his knee, his hand holding the horn you tugged on. You felt guilt well up inside you as well as tears. You knew minotaurs horns were sensitive, but you didn't think a little tug would hurt so badly. Then again, you didn't have horns. You felt awful for causing him any pain.

However, he was actually trying to fight the urge to pin you down on his bed and finger you until you were screaming. He may still have his virginity, but he was pretty talented at fingering and oral from what he had been told. You tugging on his horn and blowing smoke in his face made him so hard he was surprised he didn't rip his pants. He was hunched over to try and hide the massive bulge that appeared. He was trying his best to calm down from your sudden touch by smoking, but unfortunately for him, it just made him hornier. He always wondered if you had cast a spell on yourself to make you so irresistible.

"I'm fine... just... didn't expect that." He grumbled under his breath. That was an understatement. He noticed the room beginning to fill with smoke and that he had burned through half the massive thing already. He coughed a bit and put the half burnt joint out on the ashtray to save for another time. He tried his best to use his arms to cover his dick while he looked over at you. His blood ran cold for a moment when he saw you... crying?

"I'm so sorry... I didn't mean to hurt you or anything." You cry softly, your eyes extremely red from both the smoke and your tears.

"What? That didn't hurt me." He scoffs as he looks away. He acts offended at the suggestion you could hurt him, but in reality, he actually felt bad that he was making you cry.

"Then... why are you so upset about me touching your horn?" You sniffled and wiped your eyes. He looked back at you with his piercing green eyes for a moment and sighed.

"I'm not... upset with you... ugh, I know this sounds stupid, but I had a date for the full moon tonight, but she chickened out before I even went over... so I'm pent up and you know my fucking horns are sensitive. I don't know why you fucking touched them... Ugh! You always make it so difficult!" He bellowed before punching his wall above his headboard. Thankfully, this wasn't uncommon, and the durability spell on the wall was effective.

"What do I make difficult?! I make sure you don't destroy half your shit when you get like this!" You snapped back angrily as you felt yourself getting a bit annoyed with his whining.

"You make everything difficult! Living with you, your stupid incense and herbs, just your fucking scent is so fucking overwhelming. I can't take it anymore!" He bellows, hunching over with his head in his hands. "You make me fucking ache."

"... Huh?" You squeaked, confused.

"You cause me to act like this... I'm fucking pent up because of you. You're always around with your dumbass beautiful face and sexy body." He growls. "You have no idea how hard it is for me to keep my hands off of you all the time..."

"What if... I don't want you to?" You asked more as a question for yourself than for him. He rarely touched you, although you would touch him. You always wanted to know what his more gentle touch would feel like.

"What?" He asked, shocked at your suggestion. He stared at you, confused as you began to explain.

"Well, what if I don't want you to keep your hands to yourself?... what if I want you to touch me?" You had to look away as you spoke. You felt your face redden from embarrassment as you admitted what you really wanted.

"But... what if I hurt you again?" He grumbled lowly, clenching his fists in his lap as he sat up. Remembering the times he was too rough with you and hurt you was painful for him. You stuck by him through so much and still wanted to be around him to this day. He didn't want to cause you any pain.

"Oh, Brucie..." You began softly, resting a hand on his forearm. You were one of the few people that knew his real name, and you used it when you were more serious.

"Shut up." He snapped at the use of his real name as he rolled his eyes.

"You shut up." You retort as you look up at him and stand up on his bed. "Brucie, you won't hurt me."

"You don't know that. I've hurt you before." He says with a sad look in his eyes. The sight of the bruises he had given you back when you had first met were burned into his brain.

"There's only one way to find out." You gently take his giant hand in both of yours and look at him with a bashful smile. You felt his hand shaking as he tried to follow your lead, his other hand slowly reaching for you. He gently let's go of your hands and gingerly wraps his giant arms around you, pulling you into a tender embrace. His warmth surrounds you like a comforting blanket as you try your best to hug him back, wrapping your arms around his neck. You feel him let out a deep sigh and you do the same. One of your hands rubbed the back of his head, and the other rubbed between his shoulder blades. A deep rumble in his chest viberates through you as he relaxs at your touch. You can feel his tense muscles slowly relax through the fabric of his hoodie under your fingertips. He leans his wet nose into your neck and inhales deeply, making you shiver with a shakey breath.

"How do you smell so fucking good?" He groans, his hot breath bathing your neck. You have to hold your breath to ensure you don't moan. The way he was holding you made it impossible for you to move away due to his strength, but you also didn't want to. He suddenly snaps back to reality and pulls away from you, his large hands moving to gently hold your shoulders to keep you at arms length. "This is dangerous."

"What?"

"I can't stay gentle for long. I'll end up hurting you if we keep going..." He says with a hint of sadness in his voice. Your warmth felt so nice and he wanted more, but he knew holding back wasn't easy for him to manage long-term. He didn't want to put you at risk for his own selfish wants.

"Oh... um... I have an idea then, actually." You say while trying to avoid eye contact. You just needed to do the durability spell on yourself and grab that lube you have... but you didn't want to admit that you had special magic lube for fucking large monsters for when you used your toys. You didn't want to seem desperate, even if the puddle developing in your panties argued otherwise. "I-I can help with you being pent up..."

"What?" He asked, genuinely a bit confused. "Why?"

"I just want to help!" You lied. The truth was that you had wanted to fuck him for years. Longer than you guys had been living together, but it felt like when you guys moved in together that it would never happen. After you guys moved in together, when he wasn't with you at the studio or in the apartment, he was seemingly off getting his dick wet where-ever he could. It was frustrating, but you knew you probably wouldn't be able to handle him as a human anyways. However, you could experiment on your own. You had done research on how big an average minotaur dick was and had gotten a few different toys to work up to it, and a huge bottle of magic lube that was supposed to help humans accommodate larger monsters. Over the last couple of years, you were comfortably using the minotaur dildo without any issues as long as you used the lube. You would often have to buy more. A small smug smirk began to develop on his lips as he cocked an eyebrow.

"You want to help? What makes you think your tiny human body could handle helping me?" He said as he tilted your head up to look at him by using one of his fingers under your chin. He repeatedly looks down at your lips while staring into your eyes. He may have seemed confident in that moment, but he was actually trying to get you to back down. He thought you were joking about wanting to help to try and cheer him up. He thought playing along would make you chicken out.

"I, uhhhh... may or may not have magic lube in my room... and the durability spell should work if I cast it on myself, so theoretically I can help you... and you wouldn't have to hold back." You said with your resolve only wavering slightly. You couldn't look him in the eyes, and your face was beet red, but you didn't pull your head away from his hand. After a few moments of silence you looked up at him and you saw that his eyes were wide and his mouth was open like he wanted to say something, but nothing was coming out.

He was stunned that you actually had that stuff. Maybe you had been with more guys than he thought? No, he never smelled anyone coming over he didn't know about. Would have been nice to know you had magic lube. He could have been fucking you for weeks. Months? How long have you even had that lube for? Slowly, his resolve to hold back was dwindling at your words. He couldn't help but look you up and down, unintentionally undressing you with his eyes.

"Show me." Bruce commands with a deep growl, a dark look in his eyes as you slowly nod. You didn't want to argue with him if he looked like that. You jump off the bed and run over to his bedroom door, a bit wobbly from smoking. You hear him chuckle as you leave his room. "Hurry up, or I'll change my mind." You felt a bit dizzy from your high, but it could have been from all the blood in your cheeks.

As you got to your room, you walked over to your closet and sighed. You ended up with the smaller room in the apartment, of course. It still gave you more space compared to Bruce. You gently rubbed your cheeks as you tried to calm down and opened your closet. You had a large box on the top shelf that you kept everything in. As you were pulling it down, you heard familiar stomping coming towards your room. Shit. You dropped the box on the ground and quickly opened it, grabbing the lube before trying to close the box before he walked in. However, your timing wasn't good enough, and he walked in just as you had grabbed the lid to put it back on. You could have died right there on the spot as he stared at your collection of giant sex toys.

"Woah... I didn't think you were that much of a slut. Examples of real dicks you've taken?" He laughs as you felt extremely embarrassed, but still felt the need to defend yourself.

"Shut up! I'm a virgin, okay?! I haven't been with any other guys!" You blurt out without a second thought as you slam the lid back on the container. Your hands snap to cover your mouth as instant regret sets in. You didn't want him to know that. You didn't want him to know that you jerked off with those toys, hoping that he'd replace it. You let out a long sigh while you worked up the smokey courage to admit more. "I've only ever had an interest in a particular guy if I'm being completely honest..."

"Oh." He felt a pang of guilt as his heart sank. He felt awful for putting pressure on you. Why was he also upset that you were interested in someone else? "Who?"

"W-well, he's always near me... he's strong... makes me feel safe... he's, uh..." You glance down at the bulge in his jeans and swallow before looking up at him. "B-big..."

"Is it fucking Aram? That son of a bitch!" Bruce grumbled angrily, unable to hold back his temper and punching the wall. Thank god you made sure almost everything in your room had the durability spell too. He was frustrated that you wanted him as practice for his annoying manager. He wanted to kill him in that moment. "Fucking creep!"

"Wha- it's not Ari!" You yell in annoyance. Bruce was so dense. "It's you, dumbass! I'm interested in you! I wouldn't have wanted to fuck you for my first time if I wasn't!" You were fed up. You were done trying to throw hints around. He stood there for a moment, seemingly trying to process what you said.

"WHAT?!" He bellowed, shaking the walls of the penthouse before clearing his throat and trying again. "You're interested in me?"

"W-why do you think I have all those toys and that lube? I'm not stupid. I know minotaurs are big... I didn't want to be totally inexperienced..." You scoffed softly, trying to play it cool, but miserably failing with how you couldn't even look at him and your face being dark red.

"But why me?... I'm an arrogant asshole that takes up all your time and energy... you deserve better than me... I drive you crazy." He states gruffly, but you can still hear a hint of sadness despite his attitude.

"Yeah, but have you ever thought about how you make me crazy? You always try your best to be nice to me. You take care of me and protect me. I get to travel all over and smoke weed all day with you. I wouldn't have the life I have if it weren't for you." You say with a soft, genuine smile, approaching him as he backs up into the wall. His heart fluttered in his chest as he listened to you. "If all I have to do is make sure you don't break anything and repair a few things, I'm more than happy to take on more..." You hesitated for a moment, unable to stop yourself from looking over at his bulge before quickly looking away again. "Um, responsibility..." His breath catches in his throat as he looks at you. He stared down at you with wide eyes for a few moments before they narrow.

"I need you to do that fucking spell now." He says in a deeper voice than you're used to. It took you off guard.

"What? N-now?" You stammered softly. You worried you got him upset again.

"Just fucking do it." He growls in a more commanding tone. The sound sent a shiver down your spine, but also stirred your excitement. You didn't argue though, just quickly grabbing the closest marker and standing in front of your mirror as you tried to carefully draw the sigil on your lower abdomen under your belly button. It technically would work if you drew it anywhere, but you figured that you might as well have it close to what you wanted protected. You tried your best to stop your hands from shaking as you could see Bruce in the mirror, waiting. You could see the bulge in his pants grow bigger by the minute as you worked on getting the sigil drawn. Once it's done, you whisper your incantation, and a faint electric shock washes over your whole body out from where the sigil is.

"There. It should be ready- Ah!" You squealed as he suddenly grabbed you by the waist and threw you over his shoulder without a word. You brace yourself on his shoulder as he keeps one hand on your waist to keep you from falling.

"You're such a bitch. I can't believe you fucking hid this from me." He growls before delivering a swift smack to your ass, earning a screech from you. It was hard, but it didn't hurt other than a sting. Either he was still being gentle, or the spell worked. Thank god. You let out a moan involuntarily as his large hand rubbed and groped your ass through your shorts. What did you get yourself into? "How long have you wanted to do this?"

"A while..." You admit quietly as you watch his ass, a bit distracted by the view until his hand connects with your ass once again.

"How fucking long?" He growls, growing impatient.

"Y-years!" You admit, gripping the back of his sweater as you squeeze your thighs together tightly. You hoped he couldn't smell your arousal, but you could hear him sniff the air a bit as he started moving. He made his way back to his room and kicked the door closed. The door slammed on it's hinges, startling you for a moment before Bruce suddenly throws you onto his large bed and you land with a bounce. He tosses the lube onto the bed and it lands with a bounce a couple feet away from you.

"Really? Years?" He asks, pulling off his hoddie to reveal his muscular upper body. He had many large scars visible through the fur of his chest and arms, and many more you knew about that were hidden underneath. He had gotten a bit of soft belly over the years of being on the road and eating takeout, but you thought he was still hot. You always thought he was. You wanted to kiss every single scar on his body and tell him that. "Even now?"

"Yes." You admit with a sly smile. The haze of smoke that still lingered in the room made you feel warm, and maybe a bit overconfident. You're taken by surprise as he crawls over you on his hands and knees, a grin spreading across his face as his imposing form casts a shadow over yours.

"Shit... you made me wait so long... I'm gonna enjoy tasting you, princess." He presses his large wet nose against your neck and inhales softly. His tongue slides out and licks along your collarbone and up your neck. He pulls away just enough so his face is in front of yours. He can't help but stare into your eyes before crashing his lips against yours in a passionate kiss. Your hands quickly find his chest and run upwards, wrapping around his neck as you moan against his lips. His large tongue slides into your mouth as he moves one of his hands to pull your shorts off. He pulls off your shorts and panties in one smooth motion.

His tongue filled your mouth so much it made you gag, but you didn't care. You had craved him for so long. And after knowing the spell works, you couldn't wait for him to just fuck you, but feeling him finally touch you was more intoxicating than the smoke he smelled like. You felt him slowly pull his tongue out of your mouth and pull away from your lips. You gasp and pant as you realize you had forgotten to breathe the whole time.

"B-bruce-" you speak shakily as you stare up at him with your gorgeous, lust drunk eyes. He lets out a soft groan as he suddenly rips your shirt with the hand that was groping your boobs and throws the shreds off to the side.

"Say my fucking name, witch." He growled as he starts to move down. He positions himself so his head is between your legs, braced on his elbows with his hands holding your hips much gentler than you were expecting.

"Brucie... please." You were quickly silenced by a squeal as his large tongue slid between your wet folds, giving your pussy a long, teasing lick. His nose pushes against your clit as his hands grips your hips a bit tighter.

"Oh fuck... You taste so fucking good..." He moans softly against your pussy lips, making you involuntarily grind against his face. He grins and keeps lapping at your pussy.

"Shit." You moan as his tongue slides into your needy pussy. He knew he'd never be able to fit his dick inside you without stretching you first, even with the spell, so he was glad he was talented in other ways to help the process. His thick tongue fucked you as you threw your head back, moaning loudly. You kept trying to buck your hips, unsure if you were trying to get away or get more, but he kept you held firmly in place for him with his rough hands. He wasn't letting you go anywhere. And he was eating you out like he was starved.

You squirmed in his hands as his flat nose rubbed your clit. His tongue kept thrusting in and out of your wet pussy, curving to hit everything just right and listening to your moans to make sure you were enjoying yourself. Your thighs clamp down on the sides of his head as you feel yourself getting closer to the edge. You suddenly grab his horns and he moans into your cunt, the vibration sending you into your first orgasm of the night.

"You're lucky you taste so good..." He chuckles as he pulls his mouth away from your drenched pussy, moving one of his hands from it's place on your hips to grab the lube. "Grabbing my horns made me real impatient now... but I need to make sure you're ready for me..." He sits back on his cloven feet as he squirts some lube onto his index finger. You take the opportunityto adjust yourself comfortably, biting your lip as you wait in anticipation of what he's doing. He puts the lube next to him as he moves his finger to press against your entrance. He rubs your outer lips with the lube, making you squirm as he teases you. He places his free hand gently on your lower abdomen to keep you still as he pushes his finger into your pussy. You stretch around him as his digit slowly fills you. It felt like the human sized toys you had tried before, but a lot better. A low grumble resonates from his throat as he looks down at you with a smile. "You're so tight... even with all that work you put in..." His voice and what he said made you clench around his finger, moaning as he slowly pumps his finger inside you.

The magic lube did have an odd side effect you had forgotten to mention. It used a mild aphrodisiac to help with the 'relaxing process' and because you were human, mild aphrodisiac mixed with smoking weed usually made your mind only think about him and what he'd do to you. It had just been fantasy for the longest time, but experiencing it now was making your brain melt. His hand on your abdomen gently pressed down as he started to move his hand a bit faster, earning plenty more desperate moans from you. A mix of your juices and the lube were dripping from your pussy and onto his sheets, but he didn't care. They were going to get a lot more messy soon enough.

"You seem eager... Ready for another one already?" He asks, slowing down for a moment as he teases your slick hole with another one of his thick fingers. You nod eagerly, opening your mouth to say yes, but only moans spilling out. A deep chuckle comes from him as he grins and eases another finger inside you, speeding up the pace again. You felt a sting for a brief moment before the lube helped you accommodate him. Two of his fingers was almost too much for you, but the lube was working wonders, just like his fingers. "I haven't had anyone take my fingers so well. Impressive for a human."

Bruce chuckled again as his fingers worked inside you, pressure building once again as you felt yourself close to your second release of the night. He can feel you getting close, so he adds a bit of extra pressure on your belly, and he curls his fingers to hit your g-spot. Your eyes roll back as he keeps up the pace, forcing your orgasm out of you as you scream out in pleasure. Your body shakes and your pussy twitches around his fingers as he grins and slows to a stop. Your sweaty, stunning body was tembling under him, and he was drinking up the sight.

"Fuck, you're so desperate for me baby. You already came twice." He moves his hand from your lower abdomen to place his hand next to head. He leans down and kisses you, groaning against your lips as he feels you buck your hips to try and get more friction inside you again. "You're always so fucking impatient." He whispers as he slowly pulls out his fingers and gets off the bed. You whine at the empty feeling, sitting up as you watched him take off his jeans. In the process, his phone fell out of his pocket. He grabs it and sees a text on his phone.

Bloom: close your fucking window Bruce. The whole city can hear you guys.

"Ah, shit." Still in his boxers, he walks over to close his window before walking back over to the bed with a sigh. "Where were we?" He says with a grin, making sure you were paying attention before he finally took off his boxers. You watch him closely as he reveals his dick, and your jaw drops slightly. It's bigger than your fucking arm. His thick, vieny cock bounces in front of you as you can see precum drip from his rounded tip and onto the edge of the bed. Thank god for magic lube, or you wouldn't have been able to fit him inside at all. You have to look away before you start drooling, and you look up at him. Upon looking at his face, he's avoiding eye contact and actually looks a bit nervous. An idea pops into your head based on the look on his face and how his dick is twitching, clearly eager for what's to come.

"Are you a virgin too?" You pipe up quietly. His eyes snapped to yours and he spots the shit eating grin spreading across your tired face.

"Excuse me, bitch?" He questions, annoyed that you had even suggested it. Sure, you were right, but how dare you? He's caught off guard by you getting on your hands and knees to crawl over to him. Your legs were still a bit unstable, so you were shaking a bit, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't love the sight of you crawling to him. His dick twitched more in response and you bit your lip.

"It's not a bad thing if you are, Brucie." You sat back on your heels at the edge of the bed and grasp his dick in both hands. You feel him tense under your touch. His dick is so heavy in your hands as you gently rub your hands along his length. He moans and shivers in response, his hands gripping his thighs as he tries his best not to grab you. "You seem happy to have my attention like this."

"F-fuck you." He grunts out between moans and closes his eyes for a moment. He sucks in a breath as he suddenly feels your tongue on him, his eyes snapping open to watch you lick and kiss all over his dick.

"That's exactly what I want. And I know this guy wants it too. Do you?" You giggled as you position yourself so his dick is resting between your boobs. You use your arms to squeeze them together around his cock the best you can while each of your hands grip his cock as well. You can't get your mouth around his tip, but you still lick and suck the tip the best you can as you use your upper body to jerk him.

He stares at you with wide eyes for a moment before cupping your face gently and watching you enthralled. He's never had anyoke try to do this for him before. It may not be a normal blow job, but the fact that you wanted to try and make him feel good too drove him crazy. He can't help but gently thrust against you as you try your best to jerk him. He didn't want to interrupt whatever you were doing, but it just felt so good...

"O-oh fuck-" He stammered out, trying to pull away, but you kept a surprisingly strong grip. He was twitching widely against you and you could tell he was close already. Poor guy must be so touch starved. After only a few more thrusts, he bellows and groans as one of his hands dig his blunt nails into his thigh. He cums hard, moaning as you continue to jerk him and lick him until the ropes of cum came to a stop. You latched your mouth onto his tip and you tried you best to swallow but he came so much and the rest spilled all over your chin and chest. He was shaking a bit, panting as his vision refocuses on you once again.

"I didn't expect you to cum so quickly." You said with a giggle, slowly pulling away and letting his dick fall. "Too bad. I wanted more still." He groans as he looks over you, messy with his cum. As he catches his breath, he suddenly pushes you back on his bed, grabbing your legs and pushing them back against your chest. His dick quickly springs back to life as he sees you under him, covered in his cum. It's all over you like you just stepped out of a gang bang, but it was just him. You were both loving it.

"I never said I was done... and after you came on my face and my fingers earlier, I deserve your hot pussy wrapped around my dick and ready to take everything I give you..." He growled, his eyes showing pure lust as he roughly pushes you back onto the bed. As you flopped onto your back, he was quick to spread your legs and position himself between them.

"Is that a threat or a promise?" You giggled softly before seeing him run his messy cock along your folds, your overstimulated clit throbbing. He grabs the lube once again and coats his cock in it while still grinding against your pussy. As he presses his thick tip against your entrance, you realize he's gonna fuck you without a condom. "W-wait, no condom? What about-"

"I'm not fucking wearing a condom when you've been teasing me for so fucking long..." He growled through grit teeth. You didn't even want to argue. You wanted to feel him. All of him. You didn't want a condom on him either. You weren't on birth control, and he knew that. "I'm gonna fuck you until you're fucking pregnant."

His words made you feel hotter than you cared to admit. Without another word, he starts to ease himself into you with a stiffled groan. You moan and shake as his cock stretches you with a slight sting before melting into pleasure. It takes a minute for you to adjust to just his head before he starts to thrust his hips, slowly pushing deeper and deeper. You were already on cloud 9, and so was he. It took some work, but once you took him all the way, he couldn't help but hold himself inside for a few moments. He was panting heavily as you felt every throb and twitch he made inside you, just like how he could feel every squeeze and flutter your walls made. Your stomach was bulging from his size, leaving you getting even more hot and bothered with every second he sent just having you cockwarm him.

"Fuck... you feel even better than I thought you would..." He groans as his massive hands grasp the back of your thighs, pushing your knees back against your chest. You gasp and don't have a chance to say anything before he suddenly starts to thrust like a wild animal. The sudden jolt of intense pleasure nearly blinds you, everything inside you that made you scream, being hit all at once. Your pussy squeezes his cock hard as only a few thrusts in you're already ready to burst and he moans at the sensation. "Already gonna cum? Such a slut. Be a good slut for me and cum on my fucking dick. I'm not fucking stopping."

You didn't need to be told twice, screaming out in pleasure as you came hard, your vision going white as he just continues to fuck you like nothing is happening. You can't think straight, just moaning and quivering as he continues to rail you through your most intense orgasm to date.

You finally start to come down from your high after what feels like hours, but in reality it was only a couple of minutes. You feel him start to throb once again, his thrusts getting more sloppy and his hands shaking as he keeps your legs held in place. It felt like he was going to break you in half, but you didn't care about anything, but your next rapidly approaching orgasm. He leans down and his large tongue licks the sweat from your neck, his hot breath bathing your neck and leaving goosebumps on your skin.

"F-fuck... I'm close already... what did you do to me? I think I'm fucking addicted to you..." He groans in your ear, his words turning you on even further as he drinks up your moans directly into his ear. "You want my cum baby? I can feel you getting close, too. I want you to beg for my cum baby. Fucking beg for me."

"F-fucking cum in me, please!" You moan out, his thrusts getting even rougher as he grunts. His last bit of restraint is gone as he fucks into you like a machine, unrelenting. You feel his cock throb wildly, his hips and heavy balls snapping against yours in a final rough thrust as he cums inside you. You cum with a screaming moan and clamp down on his dick, milking his cock as he bellows and dumps his load inside you.

You're both panting and trembling as he fills you up for what feels like forever, your belly bulging due to both his cock and his cum. You're both high on endorphins and super strong weed, so both of you have to take a pause before he attempts to pull out. He tries to go as slowly as possible, hissing with a grunt as the head of his dick pops out, his cum spilling out of you and onto his sheets. He groans at the sight before biting his lip and getting up.

"Fuck... you really are addicting..." He grins as he crawls over top of you, pressing his hand gently on your belly as the rest of his cum flows out of you. You moan softly, and he takes your lips in a tender kiss before picking you up and carrying you to his bathroom. He placed you down on the counter as he grabbed a face cloth and dampened it before carefully wiping you down. You can't help but moan as he rubs your sensitive body, shaking as he cleans up your pussy as well and avoids the sigil on your stomach. He watches your every move as he bites his lip hard, trying to keep himself from fucking you further. He kisses you once again before grabbing another face cloth and putting it in your hands.

"Finish cleaning yourself if there's anywhere I missed. I'll be back. I'm gonna go change my sheets." He says with a small grin as he turns to leave the bathroom. It's not like you could go anywhere if you wanted to. The durability spell and the lube worked great, but you were so sensitive and high that you would fall on your face if you even tried to walk. You cleaned your face and tried to clean your hair was best you could. You needed rest. You could shower in the morning.

Once he was done changing the sheets, he came back wearing boxers, with one of his shirts in his hands and puts it on you without asking. He then picks you up and carries you back to his bed, pulling back the covers and putting you down gently. You giggle, his bed nice and soft and his shirt nearly being a floor length dress for you. You stick your hands out the arm holes and smile up at him as he crawls into bed next to you.

"Thank you, Brucie." You say as he covers you both with his plush blanket and pulls you into his chest.

"Shut up. I wanted to make sure you were comfortable. You need to rest." He whispers gruffly as his arms surround you. "We have a long day tomorrow." You smile and nuzzle your face into his chest, letting your exhaustion take you after he kisses you goodnight.

As you're drifting off, you can swear he whispers, "I love you."

[satoruly]

𝘿𝙍𝙀𝙎𝙎 𝙃𝙄𝙈 𝙐𝙋 .ᐟ.ᐟ

costumes that the jjk men would wear for halloween

includes. toji fushiguro, satoru gojo, suguru geto, kento nanami

tags/warnings. fluff, no curse!au, i like to think gojo's is a college au too, suggestive, mentions of oral in toji's, gojo is called a slut (jokingly), fake blood.

a/n. i love satoru i swear and suguru's is so cheesy idk if i cringe or not idc i think he's lovely. mdni banner by @/cafekitsune

got a request? click here !!

𝘀𝗶𝗺𝗼𝗻 '𝗴𝗵𝗼𝘀𝘁' 𝗿𝗶𝗹𝗲𝘆 ₊˚⊹ 𝘁. 𝗳𝘂𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗴𝘂𝗿𝗼

“I look ridiculous.”

“I bet you don’t,” you spoke from where you sat on the bed, legs crisscrossed as you waited for your boyfriend to come out from the bathroom “Just show me”

He had taken longer than you thought to get ready, longer than you had, but in retrospect, you guess you should’ve seen it coming with the amount of belts you had handed to him and no instructions to work with, you guess it was really on you. 

“This was a mistake.” He mumbled through pursed lips once he came out, looking off to the side, his slightly overgrown hair obscuring his eyes. Without the vest and belt, it was practically an everyday outfit for him, a navy blue hoodie with a pair of blue cargo pants. The latter did differ from his day-to-day wear but it was okay, he was gonna wear his New Balance sneakers once you were ready to leave so it cancelled out. 

“I want to suck your dick so bad right now.” 

“I look like a glorified back-pack”

“Where did you learn the word glorified?” You joked, though only half-heartily because you were too busy staring at your boyfriend’s thighs concealed by not only way too tight pants but by very tight garters. You wished he would keep them on the daily. Luckily though, your primitive brain had no completely taken over and so you were able to process his lack of response to your off-handed blow job proposition.

“Im wearing kneepads like a fucking loser.” He raised his knee to emphasize his point, letting his foot rest on the ottoman at the end of the bed and practically throwing the skeleton mask you hadn’t noticed he had been holding on top of the covers. 

You stood up, gave him a once look over and walked towards him cupping his face with your palms. One of your thumbs rubbed the skin of his cheek now coated by a very subtle pink, one you’d only be able to notice if you squinted. 

“You don’t look like a loser, personally I think you look very very hot,” you assured him, “but if you really don’t like it you don’t have to wear it, we can find something else for Satoru’s party.”

He huffed, unconsciously leaning against the warmth of your palms, eyebrows still twisted into a frown. “It’s not that, just— you’d really suck me off dressed like this?”

You hummed, giving him a light peck on the lips before trailing your hands down his chest, ignoring the plate carrier that bulked him up more than he already was. 

“Like now?” You could hear the smirk in his voice, the usual sultriness it carried back where it was meant to be.

“Depends,” you pondered, biting back a smile at the suggestiveness. “How long ‘till we have to leave?”

He cursed at the number of pockets he had to go through before finding his phone stashed on the back of his pants, eagerly examining the time and then showing the lit-up screen to you. “Like 30 minutes.”

“Then sure,” you looked up at him, not breaking eye contact as you undid his utility belt, letting it fall to the floor before slowly working to unzip his pants. “I’ll be quick."

𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗴 ₊˚⊹ 𝘀. 𝗴𝗼𝗷𝗼

“I was gonna buy the tights but the imprint of my d—”

“Okay! We are changing the subject…” You almost slapped your palm over your boyfriend’s mouth before he could continue. Successfully [stopping] Shoko and Utahime from hearing the not-so-safe-for-work details of your costume shopping trip.

Looking back, it was kind of funny. Satoru wasn’t all that fond of superheroes but one singular video of a hot guy on his fyp was more than enough to convince him he was willing to commit to the transformation. In reality, you’re sure he just wanted to wear the tights. That's why he almost cried when all the ones at the costume shop turned out too small to cover his ankles.

He had tried his best to make it work but to no avail and had settled instead for a black pair of cargo pants, and though they weren’t the classic Nightwing tights he had envisioned, you swore they were so much better.

“It’s nice,” Shoko pointed out, taking a drag of her cigarette, directly juxtaposing her surgeon costume. The scrubs and lab coat she wore were likely taken from the faculty of medicine last minute. “Thought you’d use Halloween as an excuse to dress up sluttier though.”

His offended gasp almost made you burst out laughing, the hand you had used to shut him up still muffling his dramatics.

“Oh, he’s a slut alright.” You joked, now resting your hand on his chest and taking a sip of your drink to hide your smile as your boyfriend decided to run with your joke.

“Yeah exactly,” he chuckled, leaning against your head and smushing his cheek in the process and circling one of his arms around your waist. He couldn’t spend a single moment not touching you, and though you played tough, you couldn’t help but lean against his touch every single time. “It’s the energy.”

And it sure was. Even if his current costume was way more tame than the bunny boy one he had chosen last year, he was still giving ‘slut’.

Although you were quick to shut down his previous comment, you’d be lying if you said the mildly accurate costume didn’t do things to you. For one, props to him for making progress at the gym. The loose material stretched out over his thighs every time he made the slightest flexing motion. Sitting, standing, going up the stairs, no matter what he did was a sight for sore eyes. Then, you had the compression long-sleeved he wore. Though it technically was a “costume” and not a compression shirt, it still hugged his arms and chest so deliciously you swore you could moan. 

And of course, how could you forget about his ass. 

“And what are you supposed to be?” Utahime asked, looking at your pleated pants, loose light blue shirt with most of the top buttons undone, and a pair of sunglasses.

“A slut.” You shrugged, enjoying their confusion until it finally clicked.

“You’re dressed as him!”

𝗵𝗼𝘄𝗹 𝗽𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗿𝗮𝗴𝗼𝗻 ₊˚⊹ 𝘀. 𝗴𝗲𝘁𝗼

“Nope, we need another one.” 

Suguru groaned in dismay, so close to banging his head against the door frame as you rejected yet another costume you had suggested, or more so, insisted he should wear. At this point of the day, he was sure his skin was sore from the constant friction of multiple garments’ fabrics. 

“Why? I think this one’s good.”

You tilted your head, looking him up and down before pursing your lips. You won't deny he looked good. He always looked good. But, “We’re going to a costume party.”

“So? This is a costume.” 

“Yeah but…” You trailed off, wondering if he’d take personal offense for the comment you were about to make regarding his fashion sense. “It kinda just looks like you.”

Now it was time for him to tilt his head in confusion, squinting at you as if to prompt you to elaborate and you sighed before continuing, “Besides the boots, actually, no, you do use those, it's pretty much a normal outfit for you.”

He looked down at himself, eyes meticulously scanning every inch of his body to then look up at you. “I’ve never worn a poet shirt before.”

“But the vibe,” you pointed at him up and down with your hand, “is there.”

“What vibe? Suguru Geto from the 19th century?”

“Ish? Yeah.” You agreed, standing in front of him to fix the collar of his shirt. “You look like you belong in a romanticism painting minus the high-waisted pants, which fyi make your ass look great.”

He chuckled, turning around to stand in front of the full-body mirror next to your vanity to check himself out, subtly taking a peak at his ass. It did look really good in those pants.

“Let me try the necklace and you can decide.” He grabbed the thin chain and gave it to you for help. Holding his hair up, he couldn’t yet again chuckle at the reflection as you tried to stand up on your tip toes to hook the clasp around his neck. 

It added some depth, he thought. The white shirt and black pants combo was something he would wear. The added jewellery made it look a little less like him, but the matching earrings were still missing.

“—and I know what you’re thinking, so I got these.” 

You stretched your palm in front of him, a pair of new gauges resting on it. Unlike his, they weren’t black, more so a pale golden color. 

“They match the color of the necklace and if you want to wear the earrings you can loop them through there.” You pointed out, and upon closer inspection, once he held them in his hands, he could see there was a little hole at the bottom of them. “But you can also not wear them if you don’t wanna, thought it'd be a nice detail.”

“I thought you weren’t sure about the costume,” he kissed the top of your head, mumbling ‘thank you’, and carefully slipped off the ones he was wearing. The way you beamed as he started doing so didn’t you escape him, and it made him all the more eager to try them on even if they felt cold against his skin and were out of his comfort zone. He had never really been a fan of gold on himself.

“Eh, I might’ve been more committed than I let on.” You hugged his waist, looking at him through the mirror as he grabbed Howl’s dangly earrings. He looked pretty. “What do you think? Looks good?”

He hummed, shaking his head slightly and chuckling at the earrings swishing against his skin. He wasn’t used to wearing those, it felt funny. “It’s still missing something though.”

“What’s missing?” You asked as he moved fully in front of you. He pressed his thumb in the middle of your furrowed brows before kissing your forehead and then giving you a quick pick on the lips.

“The matching promise rings.”

𝗽𝗮𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝗯𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗺𝗮𝗻 ₊˚⊹ 𝗸. 𝗻𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗶

“You’ve always wanted to murder your coworkers, now you can pretend you have!”

“I’m never wearing this outfit again.”

“See! You can even make the references, it’s perfect.”

But you had to give it to him, it would be much more of a costume if he wasn’t wearing a suit that closely resembled what he used to wear for work. A fitted black suit, a crisp, freshly ironed shirt and a red tie, everything covered up by a transparent raincoat. And to be fair, the plastic did make a funny noise whenever he walked. 

The only missing piece of the costume was the blood, which led you to where you were, standing over old newspapers in case you stained the kitchen floor. 

“You’re enjoying this way too much.” He shook his head as you walked around him with a bottle of fake blood, excitedly pouring the runny liquid into strategic places for it to look organic like he had actually killed someone. He wasn’t a Halloween nor a dress-up fanatic per se, but the promise of a good costume party had set you off into a never-ending search for the perfect costume until you had finally settled on one. The perfect one.

You nodded at his words, carefully creating a couple of splotches with a paintbrush before you could finally admire your masterpiece. “Now the only thing we are missing is your face?”

“Pardon?”

“We gotta put some blood on your face.” You said sitting up on the counter, careful not to knock down the FX makeup kit you had gotten. Making space between your legs, you pulled him from his belt loops towards you, and automatically, his hands positioned themselves right on top of your hips. Without you needing to tell him, he leaned closer to you, lowering his height just enough for you to reach his face properly.

“That was not part of our deal.” Yet, he stayed as still as possible as you used a smaller dropper to carefully apply the liquid to his temple close to his hairline. 

“Close your eyes.” He did as you said, and you proceeded to imitate the splotches without staining his whole face, just his forehead and cheeks. Some of it dripped down his eyebrow and towards his eye, but you caught it fast enough for it to not stain his lashes. Hopefully, that’d be the only ‘liability’ you’d experience for the night, you really didn’t want his shirt to stain. “And we are done!”

You grabbed your phone and turned on your front camera for him to look at himself.

“What do you think?”

He stared at his reflection for a couple of seconds trying to figure out if he liked it or not. While he did so, he couldn’t help but subtly flicker from you back to him a couple of times, looking at your eyes creasing in excitement. The warm smile on your lips was contagious, the way you scrunched your nose when he kissed your forehead as if scared he’d get ‘blood’ on you too cute, and so he couldn’t help the gentler one that appeared on his. 

“I like it a lot.”

© all works belong to satoruly

[munsonslove]

Open Drawers

(18+ only)

summary: You forget to close the drawer to your nightstand and your best friend accidentally finds your vibrator.

wordcount: 4.3k

tags/warnings: fem!reader, slight softdom!eddie, friends to lovers, smut, use of sex toys, praise kink (good girl), very slight degradation (he calls you a slut once), pet names (sweetheart, princess), spit used as lubricant, edging, overstim, no use of y/n

a/n: i teased this fic a while ago, sorry it took me a bit to actually post it but i hope you like it anyway!! requests are open and much appreciated, if i know someones actively waiting for me to write something for them i’ll be more likely to not spend a whole ass month on it lmao

It’s been weeks of torture. Ever since Eddie found out about your ‘little secret’ he’s refused to let it go, bringing it up as often as he can just to humiliate you further. It was cruel behavior, especially from the man you consider your best friend. Though you can’t be too surprised, considering he’d always had an affection for teasing you. In the past it had always been rather playful and innocent- maybe just ever so slightly suggestive- but you were generally able to ignore his flirtatious comments and retain your close relationship (no matter how much they made your pining heart flutter). It had been almost a month since everything changed.

Nobody was home when you returned from your shift, and inspecting the refrigerator revealed a note left to you from your roommates stating that they would be gone for the rest of the night. The news was passed along through phone call to your best friend before you even changed out of your work clothes, and within the hour Eddie had arrived at your door with a six-pack of beer and a relaxed grin. He entered without knocking (having been given a spare key from the day you moved in) and found you sprawled out on the couch, movie just starting with a large bowl of popcorn already made. You don’t even bother sparing him a glance up as he kisses the crown of your head before plopping down directly on top of you.

You try and fail to kick him off. Admittedly you may have been able to muster more strength for the task if you hadn’t been laughing at his typical antics. Failure becomes even more set in stone when his hands find their way to your sides and you dramatically call out “uncle, uncle!” in hopes that he will mercifully cease his relentless tickling. Thankfully, he does seem to be feeling benevolent this evening and climbs off, allowing you to sit up as he takes his place next to you. After ripping a can from its plastic rings, you pop open the tab and take a sip while Eddie grabs fistfulls of popcorn and shoves them into his mouth with a total lack of manners. You conclude that something is definitely wrong with you for finding this somehow endearing, and you gaze at him longingly until he turns to you with a mock-disgruntled eye roll. 

“John Hughes?”, he complains, mouth still half full, “Can’t we watch something else?”

You smirk at his predictability. “I knew we wouldn’t make it past the opening scene,” you respond while tsk-ing at him and shaking your head. “I rented a couple of cheesy looking b-movies just yesterday. You know, slasher flicks that for sure spent all their budget on fake blood?”

He smiles big and jumps up off of the sofa. “Aw, my favorite! You do love me!” he exclaims with sarcastic sentiment, “You remember to stash the tapes somewhere your thief roommates couldn’t find?”

“First of all, stop calling my friends thieves. That was one time,” you say while slapping lightly at his leg from your lowered position, “And second, yeah. They’re next to my bed.”

He nods and heads to your bedroom, not wasting time to ask permission seeing as after so many years you both had developed a ‘me casa es su casa’ type of unspoken agreement. After a few more sips of your beer and picking at a partially popped kernel, you notice that Eddie is taking an unusual amount of time retrieving the tapes. You were sure that you had left them on your nightstand, you even remember seeing them while in bed this morning as you were reaching over to-

Oh. Fuck.

The can drops from your hand and falls to the floor, spilling light amber liquid onto the hardwood. Rushing into your room, you see Eddie standing in front of the drawer you had forgone closing while leaving earlier, looking down into it with a clear view of your 18th birthday present to yourself. He whips around, jaw dropped in shock. There’s an unreadable look in his eyes as he stares you down, and you realize that you have no idea what he’s thinking about. Probably all the new ammunition he now has to use against you during one of your future banter sessions.

You run forward, shoving him sideways onto the bed and slamming the drawer shut. He lands with a huff- his back on the mattress- before propping himself up onto his elbows, still looking at you with that confusing expression. His silence so far is honestly more nerve wracking than him ruthlessly making fun of you would have been.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologize frantically. “I completely forgot I left this open, and I didn’t know we’d be hanging out tonight, and when I sent you in here I didn’t even think about it, and I never want to do anything to make you uncomfortable, and I-”

“Woah, princess,” he cuts off your rambling, using that nickname that he’s been using ever since the two of you met back in school. It usually brought a warmth to your cheeks, but given that you already felt sick to your stomach the sweet moniker was not appreciated. “It’s fine, I promise!”

“Fine?” you cry out, the sound muffled by your palms as your heated face is now buried behind your hands. You turn your body to face away from him, and he pushes back with his arms to sit up the rest of the way, then reaches forward to grip your elbow and spin you back around.

“Yeah, I swear! You didn’t make me uncomfortable or anything,” he consoles. “I was just surprised, is all. I just… wouldn’t have expected… you… to have that.” As he speaks the final word, he gestures to the freshly closed drawer containing your magic wand vibrator. The room falls quiet once more as he stares blankly at the offending table, seemingly lost in thought.

You shove his shoulder a little more harshly than you mean to, and he blinks back to consciousness and rubs where you met contact before re-meeting your eyes. “Don’t look at it like that!” you chastise, ignoring the fact that he technically wasn’t looking at ‘it’ like anything, seeing as it was now hidden out of sight. Your head falls into the cover of your hands yet again as you groan out, “Ugh! You probably think I’m some kind of slut now.”

“N-no!” he’s quick to deny, shaking his head. “Of course I don’t think that about you! I mean, come on, give me some credit. It’s the 80s,” he counters, with emphasis on the last word, “guys can be progressive now. I know girls masturbate too!”

“Please don’t say that word,” you reply, your hands still hiding your face but compromising by peeking out through your fingers.

“What?” he questions with a smirk, “Masturbate?”

“You’re completely impossible,” you state, giving in and dropping your arms to your side. You pick up the videos from your messy nightstand and turn on your heel to walk out the door, not even stopping as you shout out “Are you coming or what, Eds?”

Behind you, Eddie takes the opportunity of your back being turned to adjust himself in his pants and prays that he manages to keep it down throughout the duration of movie night.

That was almost an entire month ago. While Eddie took pity on you for the remainder of that night, the very next morning began his onslaught of mockery. Although, perhaps mockery wasn’t quite the right word, because you know all his jokes were meant to be lighthearted and fun. You know if you told him he was making you uncomfortable that he would stop in a heartbeat, so the real problem you’re facing is that you don’t want him to stop. Every time he shows up unannounced and slyly asks, “I wasn’t interrupting anything, was I?” with that knowing gleam in his eyes, you’re not sure if you want to scold him for his teasing or jump his bones. Him speaking so candidly about something that’s always been so private should be embarrassing- and it is- but it would be dishonest to say the butterflies in your stomach are only there because of your modesty. Truth be told, he was turning you on every time he hinted at the fact that he knows all about your favorite form of self care.

Not only were the teasing comments nonstop, there were also the questions. Eddie was relentlessly curious about the process (which confounded you considering you thought the situation was pretty straightforward) and he never seemed to run out of things he wanted to ask you.

“How long have you had it?”, “How many settings are there?”, “How often do you use it?”, “Do you need it to get off?”, “What do you think about when you use it?” (definitely couldn’t answer that one honestly), and finally, “How exactly do you use it?”

According to him, he wanted to know the ‘right way’ to use one on a girl for future reference. One day, the frustration of constantly having to dodge his incessant questions became too much, and without thinking you blurted out, “If you’re so curious about how to use it, why don’t I just teach you?” Understandably, your outburst shocked the both of you. What shocked you more was when Eddie quickly recovered and excitedly agreed.

That was how you found yourself spread out on your bed with your best friend on his knees in between your thighs. Your most private area is only covered by your hands, and your discarded panties are tucked in Eddie’s back jeans pocket.

“How am I supposed to do this if you’re hiding, princess?” he asks, observing the toy and turning it over in his hands, “Don’t be shy. It’s just me.”

That was the problem. It was him, your friend that you’ve been harboring a secret crush on for years. Now you’re in a position with him that you’ve fantasized about so many times, and you don’t know what it means for the future of your relationship. Above you, Eddie fiddles with the two buttons, figuring out the mechanics of what they do. He discovers the bottom button turns it on while the top changes the speed. There are three settings, and after cycling through them all it starts back at the beginning, only turning off by pressing the bottom button once more. When he’s done figuring out how the toy works, he powers it on to the lowest setting and looks at you expectantly, eyes flitting between your hands and face. You turn your head to the side, take one final deep breath and move your arms to your stomach, revealing yourself to him.

The air is cold on your exposed center. Other than your shaky exhaling and the humming of the vibrator, it’s quiet. You realize with embarrassment that Eddie has stopped breathing, and when you steal a glance back at him he’s staring at your bare center with an unreadable expression. You instinctively hide your face in your hands, and your thighs involuntarily twitch to close. Of course, they can’t fully shut with Eddie sitting in between them, but the movement does stir the boy from his trance. He pries your hands away from your face and you’re forced to confront his inspecting of you.

He kisses a wet peck to the tip of your nose like he’s done so many times before, and just like always your entire face scrunches up with a smile. With eyes now closed, you start to feel giddy and you can’t help but giggle at the absurdity of the situation. You half expect Eddie to start laughing with you, but no sound comes from your friend. Suddenly- and without warning- he presses the vibrator directly to your clit. Your eyes snap open, rolling back in both shock and pleasure as a humiliatingly high pitched squeal escapes out of your slack-jawed mouth.

“Such a pretty sound from such a pretty girl,” Eddie says, barely loud enough to hear considering the buzzing raised in volume due to being pushed up against something. It’s almost like he was more absentmindedly commenting to himself rather than purposefully complimenting you.

You’re only capable of responding with moans as your legs fold into your torso and your toes start to curl. It’s still set to the lowest vibration option, but your aforementioned nerves and arousal were making you much more sensitive than you would otherwise be while using the toy alone. Eddie’s empty hand moves to stroke your inner thigh, before inching toward your center slowly. He seems to be asking permission to touch you himself, and the fact that he still thinks to wait for consent while literally sitting in between your legs after taking off your underwear almost has you laughing again. Instead, you simply nod your head. Eddie’s fingers immediately spread your lips further, allowing the head of the vibrator to be able to hit your clit more directly. The buzzing becomes higher in pitch as he goes up one setting, and the sensation becomes too much to handle.

“Sorry,” he whispers when you whine and start to squirm away, “I’ll be nice.”

After positioning yourself back into place, you mumble out, “Sensitive…” as an explanation. Your voice is surprisingly weak.

“I know, sweetheart,” he says, though you doubt he actually feels regretful, “I know.”

The sound of clicking reaches your ears as Eddie toggles the toy back to the first setting. His thumb briefly brushes over your clit, causing you to shiver and gasp, and he breathes out a quiet laugh before pressing the vibrator against you once more- this time more gently. The vibrations are more bearable this way, and you feel the pleasure slowly start to rise and rise until you become a moaning puddle beneath the metalhead. Just as you’re crying out his name- a warning that you're about to cum- he pulls away, cruelly laughing at your protesting.

“Eds, what the fuck?” you shout, frustratedly. “I was so close! Why the hell would you-”

“Calm down, princess,” he interrupts. “You know I’ll get you there. I just wanna have some fun along the way.”

And you do know. You trust him more than anyone else- you’d trust him with your life- but you also know that he’s a little shit. “Please, Eds. Please just get to it,” you beg.

He stares at the head of the toy for a moment before lifting it to his face. His tongue parts his lips, swollen and pink from him biting them, and your eyes widen as he slowly licks directly where the silicone was just touching you. He moans, and his eyes roll back into his head. The sight only drives you more wild, and your hips start rocking the bed as you wait for him to continue.

He starts to bite his lips again as he watches you grind against nothing, desperately searching for friction. “Maybe I was wrong before,” he says slowly with a teasing lilt, “maybe you are a slut.” He had a look in his eyes that you had never seen before.

Your entire body raises in temperature. “Eddie…” you whine, surprised by how much his rudeness is affecting you. “Please…”

“So fucking wet, dripping all over your sheets,” he continues distractedly, paying no mind to your pleading as he caressed up and down your slit, collecting your juices. When he pulls away, you notice the lights of your bedroom reflecting off the glistening moisture on his fingers, and you resist the urge to hide again. “Such a pretty pussy. The prettiest. She’s not used to being treated so nicely, huh?”

As usual, his confidence blurs the line between incredibly sexy and incredibly annoying. His words are making your insides flutter, and probably worsening the ‘dripping all over your sheets’ problem. Still, you can’t help but feel your frustration grow. “Please, Eds, make me cum. Please make me cum,” you beg some more as you scoot down the bed. Your thighs no longer have the room to be laying on either side of him. Instead, they are now resting atop his own thighs, with your pelvises almost meeting making contact.

“So desperate for your best friend to make you cum. Are you always this wet, princess?” As he asks this, the vibrator meets your center again. He rubs it back and forth vertically in quick motions, and you groan in relief.

You answer by shaking your head no. It definitely wasn’t always like this. In fact, it was never like this. The toy slid so effortlessly between your puffy lips, massaging your sensitive nub directly and bringing tears to your eyes.

“Aw,” he cooed, “so it’s just for me?”

As embarrassed as you feel, you figure there’s no use in denying it now. “J- just for you.”

That familiar feeling of climax starts to creep up on you once more, and once more you cry out in annoyance when Eddie eases up the pressure before pulling off entirely.

“No!” you sob, “Eddie please, I need it so bad.”

“You’ll cum when I’m ready for you to cum,” he says, though the dominance in his tone is betrayed by the lust in his eyes. “I just want to play with you for a little longer. You’ll be a good girl, right?”

You suspect that he won’t start up again until you agree, so you do so without a second thought. “I’ll be your good girl,” you promise, “I’ll be good.”

He smiles wide at you before spreading your lips apart and leaning down to spit directly in between them, not that you needed the extra lubrication. Feeling his saliva make contact sent shockwaves through your body, and your back arched just in time for him to harshly press the vibrator back to your clit and start rubbing it in fast circles. This time, the orgasm doesn’t so much creep up on you as it does jump out in front of you, and you’re about to give in until you hear Eddie’s voice behind the haze.

“Hold it,” he orders. “You said you would be good, so be a good little slut and hold it.”

Your head is already thrown back, and you squeeze your eyes shut in concentration. Every fiber of your being is focused on not cumming, wanting to do as Eddie wishes so you can please him. Noticing your efforts, he lifts the toy off of your aching clit and allows you to catch your breath. With your newfound relief from the strain of resisting climax, you notice that Eddie’s free hand has left your waist, and you look down to a glorious sight.

Eddie’s palming himself through his jeans. The image burns itself into your eyelids, so not even blinking becomes an escape from what you're witnessing your best friend do to himself (not that you’re complaining). You silently observe in awe as he attempts to shove his hand down his pants, and struggles on account of them being too tight. To remedy this, he unzips his jeans and slides them down just far enough for you to catch a glimpse of his hard cock straining against the fabric of his boxers. There’s a wet patch where his head was leaking precum, and a clear imprint of his impressively girthy shaft. Once the pants are out of his way you see his hand disappear inside of his underwear as he wraps it around his member and starts jerking harshly, not fully able to stroke up and down his length given the obstructive clothing.

The pure, unadulterated lust that’s consuming you is overpowering any shyness you previously felt. “Eddie,” you say his name, but he ignores you considering you’ve been a constant stream of “Eddie, Eddie, oh Eddie,” for the past ten minutes. “Eds,” you try again, “you can take it out.”

All movement inside his boxers halts. “Huh?” he exclaims with wide eyes, “A- are you sure? This was supposed to be about you.”

“I’m sure,” you confirm. And you lift up your t-shirt to reveal the white lacy bra underneath as you elaborate, “I want you to finish on me.”

His forehead wrinkles as his eyebrows shoot up in shock. With his wide eyed staring, it almost seems like he can’t believe what you’re saying. Drool pools in his open mouth before he composes himself with a head shake. Wordlessly, he sets the still vibrating toy down on the mattress and lifts your thighs off of him, before sitting up enough to pull down the sides of his boxers. His cock springs up the second his underwear is out of the way, and -without thinking about the consequences- you spit into your palm and reach out to tentatively wrap your fingers around him.

The strangled noise that leaves his mouth is the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard. He instinctively bucks his hips, but freezes, waiting for you to make the call. You start stroking him hard and fast, not bothering working up to a quicker speed when you were already so desperate for release and wanted him to cum with you. Eddie can apparently relate to said desperation, and hastily picks up the toy back up. Every muscle inside of you clenched as he started rubbing the tip against your clit in small circles. You strained to prolong this moment, knowing your eventual orgasm would be much more rewarding if you could see his face as he came all over your hand and stomach. 

“God, sweetheart,” he groans, “So fucking good. So much better than my hand.” 

The mental image of Eddie touching himself has you cursing out loud. “Really?” you ask, the pride getting to your head, making you feel light and floaty.

“You have no idea,” he responds. “Been fucking my fist nonstop since that movie night. Couldn’t help myself. All I could think about was you getting off, moaning my name.” You wonder if he knows just how real his fantasy was.

His free hand gently caresses the lacy undergarment covering your chest, his touch so light you barely register it. The uncertainty in his actions is clear, so in lieu of giving verbal consent you simply take his hand in your own and guide it to be fully on your breast.

“Can I pull this down, princess?” he practically begs, and you answer with a nod. He immediately tugs the breast cups downward, revealing your naked chest. Your soft, unmarked flesh is framed by the bunched up fabric of your shirt that’s been gathered at your clavicle, and the lacy material of your bra being held below by Eddie’s trembling hand. His hips are now moving in time with the rhythm of your strokes, and the rocking is causing your tits to bounce in a way that has his angry red tip spilling precum all over your hand as he attempts to hold off his release. The sight has you imagining what he would taste like, with you on your knees in the back of his van, and that thought has you hurtling toward the finish line at an embarrassing speed.

“Cum for me,” he orders. The second he gives you permission, you feel the damn break. As you're busy crying out in pleasure, you faintly hear Eddie in the background. “Good girl,” he grunts, “That’s it. That’s my girl.”

You cum with his name on your lips. The intensity of this orgasm is unfamiliar, and you realize with bitterness that the edging you were forced to endure was truly worth the end result. With your mind elsewhere, your stroking halts and you hear the creaking of your bed as Eddie starts to violently thrust into your fist until he meets you in orgasmic bliss. Warmth falls on your naked torso and you look down to see that he’s angled his cock to be aiming at your stomach, fulfilling your earlier wish of him finishing on you. The sight of him using your hand to milk himself dry combined with the buzzing still pressed hard against your clit has you cumming harder than you ever have before. Your hand falls from Eddie as his high comes to an end, but he does nothing to pull away the toy and offer relief to your achingly sensitive core. Any attempt to wiggle your hips free from his hold seems to go unnoticed by his strength, and you have no choice but to take the unrelenting vibrations. The overstimulation has tears falling down the side of your face as your shoulders raise from the bed, the top of your scalp pushing into the mattress as your head is thrown back. Eventually, you are able to move away, and Eddie turns off the toy and chucks it off the bed before climbing on top of you and finally kissing you on the lips.

With both of you breathing heavily into the other’s open mouth, the kiss isn’t exactly how you always imagined your first kiss with your best friend to go, but it’s perfect nonetheless. Your hands find their way into his wild hair, while his tighten their grip on your waist. His tongue in your mouth just barely has the taste of you on it from him licking your toy earlier, and as his thigh brushes your middle small aftershocks rush through your body. You stay like this for a while, lazily making out and feeling each other’s bodies, until he breaks off of your mouth to kiss down your jaw, to your neck, then back up to the side of your face.

When he reaches just under your ear, his lips part from your heated skin to whisper, “So we’re doing that again, right?”

Grabbing a tuft of his hair, you guide him back to your mouth, and with your lips moving against him you answer, “Definitely,” before deepening the kiss. You’re still unsure of what this exactly means for your friendship, but that can be talked about another time.

[sashaisready]

This Must Be The Place: Chapter 15 - Hit me on the head

Biker!Bucky x Femme Reader

Back at your beloved late grandmother's home to pack up her house, you have a run-in with the town's biker gang 'The Howling Commandos' and find yourself entangled with the metal armed President.

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Nothing I don't think? Some angst!

Hi again! Sorry a bit of a shorter chapter as the next one is quite long and I'm still fiddling around with the dialogue. Also...sorry for making Peter Q the bad guy...I don't know why that happens often in my fics hehe.

You sat in the car considering your options. Too far to walk home, especially at night by yourself. Too far to walk back to Peter’s – not that you’d want to, anyway. God, no.

You caught yourself replaying the events of what had happened with him and screwed your eyes shut. Not now. Leave that in a box for the time being, concentrate on getting home first.

You tried to pull up a mental map of the area in your mind, but you didn’t really know it well enough beyond the way back to Granny’s place and the fuzzy outline of everything else. You were pretty sure there was a gas station not too far from here that would surely let you call a tow or Wanda, but you weren’t sure of the exact direction it was in, and you didn’t want to set off the wrong way in the dark by yourself.

You got out of the car and popped the hood, trying to use the dim light of the nearby streetlamp to illuminate the inside. You attempted to fiddle with a few things, but the poor visibility and your limited knowledge of engines meant you didn’t get far. Everything ‘looked’ as it should…in the dark at least...so you sighed heavily as you admitted defeat and slumped back inside.

After running through every possibility, including hitchhiking (too murdery) and trying to push Sally a little to see if that nudged the engine (too superheroy), you got out of the car briefly and wandered down the road in both directions to see if you could find any signs of life – but there was only the occasional car in the distance, too far away to notice you, and the sounds of the interstate nearby.

Sally’s digital radio said it was 11pm and you accepted the best option you had was to camp out here for the night, then regroup when the sun came up. You would set off to find the gas station, maybe try flag a passing car to use their phone. It wasn’t ideal, but it was all you had.

Fortunately, you had a blanket and old hoody stashed in the trunk, so you splayed across the backseat and attempted to get yourself as comfortable as you could. You kicked off your heels and wrapped yourself up. You laid in the dark, stifling a derisive chuckle as you thought about how ridiculous this all was. Your body already pulsed from the discomfort of your position and the dinner from earlier felt heavy and acidic in your stomach. But you did your best to ignore it all, closing your eyes and hoping to catch at least a few hours of sleep.

*

You must’ve somehow drifted off as sometime later you were awoken by something. Your eyes blearily focused as your initial confusion cleared and you grimly remembered where you were. You couldn’t see the car’s clock from this angle, clueless as to what time it was.

You heard a noise, a loud hum that seemed to be getting closer. That must’ve been what woke you.

You sat up, groaning at the stiffness of your limbs as you wiped the condensation from the back passenger window and peered outside – finding nothing but darkness. It was still nighttime, you leaned over the seat and saw on the radio it was a little after midnight.

The humming noise was getting louder and louder, it sounded like a lawn mower…or a chainsaw. You couldn’t make sense of it. It felt familiar but you couldn’t place it in your sleepy haze. Groggily, you pressed your face to the glass as your brain caught up.

You saw it then, the bright light that illuminated the road and Sally as the noise became deafening, and you suddenly understood.

A headlight.

A motorcycle.

The bike came to a sudden stop in front of the car and the noise ceased, causing you to sit up sharply and check the doors were locked. You unsteadily shrank back under the blanket as a figure approached the car. Was that…?

“Sugar?” called the voice as the figure moved around the car, muffled through the window glass but still unmistakeable. “Is that you?”

“B-Bucky?” you croaked in surprise as he came into view, squinting as he shined his phone torch through the windows at you.

Relief flooded you as you saw him lean over and squint as he looked in, his face concerned and confused.

Thank God for that!

But your feeling of respite soured as embarrassment surged. As grateful as you were…why did it have to be him of all people? Even another member of the MC would’ve been fine, although you knew beggars couldn’t be choosers. You were still furious with him, still wounded by his earlier betrayal, and now here you were – intensely vulnerable and desperate for his help. You hated that he would now have this over you, that you had no choice but to lean on him.

But you did have a choice, even if it wasn’t the right one.

He knocked on the window, “Sugar? I was just passing saw Sally parked up. What’s going on? Are you alright? Did you break down?”

You turned away, mortified.

“Sug? Open up. I can help”.

“No…” you said quietly.

“What?”

“No!” you snapped, loud enough for him to hear. “Leave me alone, Bucky. I don’t want your help…”

“Sug…”

“No!” you shouted again, unable to stop the tears from falling. “I said no! I’d rather take my chances by myself”, your voice was shaky.

You knew you were being wholly unreasonable. But you couldn’t help it. After the night you’d had, how tired you were, you simply didn’t have the bandwidth to add him to the mix and ‘owe’ him this favour.

“You’re being ridiculous…this is stubborn even for you,” he chastised, “C’mon. You’re sleeping in your car on the side of a road miles from home, for fuck’s sake. Just open up. And what’s happened to your face…?” He paused, softening as he watched you through the glass, “Look…it’s not safe out here, let me help you”.

You frowned at his admonishment despite knowing he was right. You could go home! Help was right there! You were being a stubborn baby! You were drowning at sea, and someone had thrown you a life preserver!

But why did it have to be that person who found you, of all the 7.9 billion human beings on the planet?

Even in your worked up state you knew full well you were acting insanely, logic was not winning out.

“No! I’m still mad at you, and I’m always gonna be mad at you…” you scoffed childishly.

He exhaled in frustration, pressing his hand against the glass as he looked at you defeatedly. “Sug…”

You turned away from him fully, burying yourself under the blanket and trying to stifle your sobs.

“Okay…” he sighed, “Have it your way”.

You laid perfectly still, keeping your eyes shut and hoping to somehow skip all of this and get straight to morning. After a few minutes you peeked out, but Bucky was gone. You weren’t sure why you felt a faint glimmer of disappointment, as he’d done exactly what you asked him to, but today wasn’t a day of rational emotions. Thankfully, tomorrow would bring a new day. Maybe you’d be a little more sane by then.

Your eyelids weighed heavily as you settled back across the seats, and rest finally came.

[devondespresso]

Mr. Crayola Henderson

T | 1791 words | ao3 link | cw: minor ableism from a side character, also they swear, I always forget f-bombs bother some people sorry guys | STWG Prompt: Telling a story to get out of trouble

EDIT: I NEARLY FORGOT thank you @pearynice my beloved for the brainstorming GENIUS and @hairstevington for the sensitivity read! You guys are awesome!! Also thank you @saradika-graphics for making free dividers!!

((little bit of context for extra clarity: this universe is vaguely canon divergent, post season 2. Steve is hoh (hard of hearing) and already adopted by the Hendersons, and in this one they're in the middle of a sort of family reunion/gathering))

Steve went to duck inside the house, holding the door open for Aunt Tracy on her way back out into the backyard where the majority of the gathering was taking place. She smiled and said something, probably just a thank you that he would’ve heard if the batteries in his hearing aids hadn’t died. He smiled back at her and gestured to his ear and she nodded again with a smile that did its best to not be patronizing.

She left and Steve went inside, sighing a little and tried to not hold it against her, the lack of filter seemed to run in the family, but it was moments like that that made him grateful his mom was the most laid-back of the Henderson women.

Steve went over to the media room and dug through the little bin of batteries under the phone, pulling out an opened pack that had just enough left. He took both aids off, changed the batteries, and put them back on to make sure they worked.

He heard a strong thud from his bedroom, followed by muttering.

Steve put the dead batteries down on top of the table and stared at his bedroom door. The muttering escalated to hushed bickering.

Steve walked closer to the door, hearing the bickering more clearly, then opened the door.

Dustin and their cousin Aiden both jumped and turned to look at the door, Dustin relaxing when he saw it was him. Steve paused for a second, looking at both of them crouched on the ground, bright pink paint on their hand and clothes and the carpet around them with no bottle in sight.

Steve leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow at Dustin.

“We were just… snooping through your shit. ” Dustin said.

Steve glanced back down at the paint everywhere, and gave him a look.

Dustin just smiled like a little angel, which worked on mom and maybe Steve-from-two-years-ago, but not now.

“Oh no, you found my secret stash of… bubblegum pink paint.” he deadpanned.

“The cheap kiddy bubblegum pink paint.” Dustin corrected, looking down at the carpet. “It’ll wash out.”

“Of course.” He looked over to Aiden, who had relaxed significantly as he realized Steve wasn’t going to blow up on them. “And… why is there totally washable pink paint in my room specifically? Weren’t you guys sticking to dicking around outside to avoid doing stuff like this?”

Aiden opened his mouth to give a better excuse, but Dustin started tapping his shoulder excessively to get his attention.

“He’d help us.”

Steve raised his eyebrows, not arguing because odds were good he’d end up doing something, but he still played it up like he wasn’t already planning to.

Aiden was turned mostly towards Dustin and muttered something he couldn’t catch, throwing a glance at Steve.

“Trust me, this is like a walk in the park compared to–” Dustin said.

“Hardly a fair comparison, man.” Steve interrupted. 

“–compared to the other shit he’s helped me with.”

Aiden thought about it, then glanced towards Steve. “And he's not going to jump ship afterwards and get us in trouble?” 

“Of course not, right Steve?”

Steve looked at the two of them and ran a hand over his face.

“You know step one of not getting in trouble for stupid shit is not starting stupid shit, right?”

Aiden groaned but Dustin agreed immediately, “Yes, 100% understood.”

Dustin elbowed Aiden, and he nodded despite his clear annoyance. 

Dustin smiled and looked at Steve.

He rubbed his temple one last time before throwing his hand down.

“Okay. Step two then.”

Dustin jumped up and shot him a thanks before running around him towards the kitchen. Steve watched him go then turned back to Aiden who looked just as confused.

“What’s he doing?”

“I don't know.” Aiden lied, looking at him curiously, “What's step two?”

“Find me and let me finish the stupid shit.”

“Huh.” 

Dustin came running back with a slice of deli-meat in one hand.

“Dustin, this isn’t looking much better than last time.”

Dustin paused his mad dash for just a second to look at him.

“It’s significantly better, I swear.” he said, then ran to sit back down, dropping the slice of meat on the floor in front of him, and waited.

After a few seconds of nothing, a fuzzy little white face poked out from under his bed. Cautiously, a opossum with pink paint splashed on its back came waddling out. It sniffed at the food given to him, nibbled at it, then opened its mouth as wide as it could to awkwardly chomp at its new snack.

It was a wild animal, Dustin brought in a wild animal inside, during a family gathering with some of the most worry-wart mothers he’s ever met–

But god, the tiny opossum was really fucking cute.

Dustin beamed at the little guy like a proud mom, then up at Steve. Steve shook his head in disbelief and joined them carefully around the opossum. He picked up the deli meat and placing it on his hand to get the little guy used to it.

“You’re crazy, Henderson, you’re fucking crazy.” He grumbled, playing up annoyance to avoid losing his better judgment. 

Dustin said something probably cheeky as hell, but he didn’t catch it.

“One more time.” he said, looking away from the opossum for just a second.

“And what does that make you, Henderson?” Dustin smiled, definitely cheeky.

“Reluctantly, also fucking crazy.” he sighed, shaking his head before moving the deli meat further up his hand to lead little Mr. Opossum onto it.

He lifted Opossum gently, letting it have the rest of the deli meat so he could use two hands to hold it steady. He stood up slowly, and started walking towards the bathroom.

Dustin and Aiden went around him to get the door, lights, and sink ready– apparently, to continue where they left off. There were pink handprints around the edge of the sink and a bottle of dish soap sat next to the hand soap.

“Wow, I wonder what happened here.” Steve deadpanned. He looked over at the both of them, not a hint of guilt in their eyes. “And this is why there aren’t two Dustin Hendersons.” he bitched with no real anger, and set Mr. Opossum down gently in the sink.

 “You mean this is why there aren’t two Aiden Haults.” Aiden said, leaning over the sink.

“Nope, Dustin gets the credit for this one.”

Steve closed the drain to make a pool of water and Opossum gravitated to it immediately, taking a drink before waddling into the pool and almost rolling in the water to get his fur wet.

Steve tried and failed to bite back a smile.

“His name is Sir Crayolan.” Dustin said.

Steve had no choice but to bark out a laugh.

“Sir what?”

“Sir Crayolan.”

“Oh god, I heard you correctly.”

“It’s a great name!”

“You know Sir Crayolan isn't staying, right?”

“Yeah, we were gonna let him go after we washed him, we just–” 

Aiden muttered something and tugged on his sleeve, pointing out the bathroom doorway towards the back door.

Just out of the window, Aunt Tracy was caught in conversation with someone, looking like she was laughing, but clearly stopped just before she was going to come inside. Steve quickly rinsed some of the minimal paint on his fingers, careful not to scare Mr. Crayola or whatever.

“Does she know you’re in here?”

“No, we hid in your room–”

“Good, you guys wash him, carefully and quietly, I’ve got the rest.�� He whispered, wiping his hands off on a towel.

“You’re the best, Steve.” Dustin said, giving him a quick side hug to avoid getting paint on him.

“Oh really? I’m gonna need that in writing.” He smiled and Dustin stuck out his tongue. Steve returned the gesture and slipped out of the bathroom, straight across the hall and into his bedroom.

He turned off the lights immediately to hide the pink mess on his floor and waited to hear the front door. 

He heard Aunt Tracy’s laughing rather than the actual door open, heard her wave off whoever it was she was talking to through the door. He took one hearing aid off before he walked out of his room, closing the door behind him. He made his way back to the abandoned dead batteries and put his aid back on, messing with it a little longer than strictly necessary.

“Oh, Steve, there you are. Everything okay?” she said, joining him by the tv room. 

“Yeah, just had to find batteries. What’s up?” 

“Oh yes, well– now, I know I could be overreacting, but I haven’t seen Aiden anywhere for– oh, for god knows how long–”

“He was with Dustin earlier–”

“I know, I know, but they were near those woods weren’t they? And you know there were those missing kids stories–”

“Trust me, I know.” he said, dropping the dead batteries into their battery jar. “I can help you search for them if you want, but I don’t think Dustin’s ever gotten lost. He carries around a compass like it's his wallet. Worst case scenario? They’re messing around in the woods somewhere a little too far away and they’ll come running back once they realize we started eating hotdogs without them.”

“God, you know Claudia said the same thing, I just worry…”

“Ron just lit the grill, right? Let’s give them twenty minutes,” he checked his watch, “Until five… five fifteen-ish. If nobody sees them, I’ll help you look.”

“Twenty minutes, alright, I’ll tell Claudia.” She said, and circled back to the door.

“I’ll join you guys in a second, I’m grabbing a coke.” he called, jutting a thumb back towards the kitchen.

She called something back with a wave and Steve just waved back until she disappeared out the door. He walked over to the kitchen and grabbed a cold can for himself and a diet pepsi for mom, then circled back to the bathroom.

He checked over his shoulder once real quick before tapping on the door and opening his coke.

Aiden answered the door, cracking it open just enough to stand in the doorway.

“You got all that, yeah?”

“Twenty minutes, we’ve been exploring in the woods.”

“Yup. Release your critter out the front door and circle around. I am not joining a search party for you guys today.”

Aiden nodded and gave him an overserious salute. Steve threw a more casual one back.

“Tell Mr. Crayola I said ‘bye’.” he said, then turned around to leave as Dustin came to the opossum’s defense. He hid his smile by taking a sip of his coke, and went back out the door.

(obligatory disclaimer uhhh dont pick up wild opossums please ok thanks guys love ya)

[sstormyskyess]

Icy Hands

author's note: this'll be the first time i post my writing online in quite a few years so go easy on me!! i'm hoping to post as frequently as i'm able to from now on! my requests are open as well, so if you have requests or thoughts, don't hesitate to send something in!

cw: hurt/comfort, allusions to domestic abuse

word count: 1500+

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick / GN!Reader "Pitch"

You ran your hands over your face and rubbed the corners of your eyes, staving off the imminent eye strain you felt developing. You really needed to get somewhere other than the base to spend your leaves. An apartment or something, anything to keep you away from the obligations that sat around every corner of the base. Hell, not even Price stayed on base when he was on leave. 

You get yourself up and out of your uncomfortable chair after another few minutes of staring down at the documents sprawled over your desk. Maybe you could get some water, or eyedrops from the med bay. Anything would be better than the bureaucratic hellscape in your room. You squeezed your eyes shut when the fluorescent lights of the hallway pierced your eyes. Muttering a curse under your breath, you start the walk to the rec room.

The last thing you were expecting was to bump into Kyle. “Gaz? What are you doing here?” You tilted your head and sized him up for a few seconds. He certainly looked a bit disheveled which was an interesting sight in and of itself. He was always pretty well put together, but it looked like he’d just rolled out of bed with his clothes askew and eyes red. The most surprising thing was the fact that he was on base to begin with. As far as you knew, he had gone back to wherever he lived offbase.

“Oh, Pitch— I just, uh… left something in my room.” He cleared his throat and rubbed at the back of his neck, hissing in pain for some odd reason. You squinted, stepping a bit closer to him and crossing your arms when he takes a step back in response. “You’re a real bad liar. What’s going on?”

“Nothing is ‘going on,’ I’m fine.” He started to push past you but he didn’t make it far before your arm came up to stop him in his tracks. He winced and took a step away from your arm. “Piss off, Pitch. Move.” He grumbled and harshly pushed you aside before swiftly making his way to his room.

Kyle let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He was lucky that you hadn’t noticed the ice pack he was stashing behind his back as he went to lock himself in his room. He shivered from the feeling of the ice against one of the many bruises littering his skin. Then, he made the mistake of picking up and checking his phone for the first time since he left his flat.

There were a countless number of messages and missed calls from the person responsible for all the marks still darkening on his body head-to-toe. A fresh wave of tears threatened to spill from his eyes. He rubbed them away and squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that maybe if he squeezed hard enough, everything would just go away.

He sat curled up in his bed for another half hour before he heard a gentle knock on his door. You. Nosy little bastard. “Gaz, you good?” You call through the door. Kyle huffed out a sharp sigh and forced himself out of bed. As much as he wished he could just pull the covers over his head and tune everything out, he knew you were possibly one of the most persistent people on the planet.

When the door opened, Kyle immediately felt the scrutinizing stare in your eyes. Ever observant, he knew you were almost certainly going to notice or already had noticed every little thing that was off about him. He simply resigned himself to your hand grabbing him by the chin and tilting his head to the side. After that half hour, the bruise on his cheek had become much more swollen and your eyes widened at the sight of it. “What the hell happened?”

“I… I bumped into a door frame on my way in. Wasn’t paying attention.” Kyle mumbled. You roll your eyes and run your thumb over his cheek. “I already told you you’re a bad liar. Quit it.” You frown. Kyle’s head hung low to avoid looking at you. He knew that if he did, he wouldn’t be able to keep the act up. “Mate, I’m fine. Really.” He says quietly, almost inaudibly. After a few more moments of you holding his face and feeling your firm stare burrowing into him, he sighed and tilted his head down to rest on yours.

You moved one of your hands to the back of Kyle’s neck to comfort him, but pulled back when Kyle flinched under your touch. Then, you realized you just touched an open wound in the process of trying to scab over. You sighed. “Just bumped into a door frame, huh?” Kyle shut his eyes tightly when he got called out on his lie. “Tell me what happened, Gaz.”

Kyle pulled you into his room and sat on the bed next to you, leaning his forearms on his knees and putting his head in his hands. “My—” Another wave of tears threatened to crash down. “My boyfriend, he…” He dug his teeth into his bottom lip, doing all he could to force back the water welling up in his eyes. You quickly saved him from having to spill out all of the pain he’d been feeling for the past year. Kyle could hear the shock and building outrage in your voice when you spoke up. “Your boyfriend did this to you?”

Your teeth clenched. You’d only met Kyle’s boyfriend once, and all that was exchanged was a polite wave. His boyfriend had driven him to a new little dive bar that TF-141 and Laswell had chosen to scope out, so you were finally able to meet him. You never really had an opinion on him, but you were always pretty suspicious. It always felt like Kyle was hiding him from the task force; the guy was never mentioned except for situations that Kyle was poked and prodded at to talk about him.

Knowing this now, though? You were damn near ready to get in your car and roll up on the bastard. You were fully ready to kick this dude’s ass. Nobody messes with your friends, especially not Kyle. He was too important to you. He was such a good man and he certainly didn't deserve to feel unsafe in his own house.

Kyle felt your comforting hand tense up on his back. Your fingers twisted into the fabric of his shirt and they started shaking from how tight your muscles had gotten. “Pitch?” He glanced up and saw the way your brows were pinched together and your lips were pursed. You suddenly stood up and started to pace the room, nearly stomping as you walked back and forth in front of him. “Pitch, what’s wrong?” Just watching you was making him even more anxious than before.

“That son of a bitch… Swear to god I’ll fucking kill him…” You growled under your breath. “I should kill that motherfucker for doing that to you.” His eyes widen at that. He quickly stood up and grabbed your wrist to stop you from wearing a trench into the concrete floor. “Calm down, Pitch—” He flinched back when you turned to him quickly. “I’m not gonna calm down, Kyle! Nobody should treat you like that; shit, I’m pissed at myself for not knowing sooner!” You clenched your fist, focused on the feeling of you nails digging into your palm and took a deep breath. Kyle looked at you, not only shocked by your outburst but also because you used his legal name. You didn’t use anyone’s legal name unless you were really serious.

You pulled yourself from his grasp and went to leave the room with heavy steps. Right when you got to the door and wrapped your hand around the handle, you felt a set of toned arms wrap around your waist. You froze. Your head turned to the side a bit to look at where Kyle’s head rested on your shoulder. “I’d rather have you here. With me.” He mumbled into your shirt.

…”You’re gonna tell Price about this, right?” You brushed your fingers across the hair on the back of Kyle’s neck. He shivers from the cold lacing your fingers. The ice pack on his bedside table had long since melted down, the condensation saturating the shirt that you had taken off and used to wrap it up. He buried his face in your now bare chest, a small sigh passing his lips. “I will. Promise.” The cold in the room was strong, the military AC pumping wave after wave of chilly air into the space, but the warmth between you two could block out all of it.

If not for Kyle curled up in your arms and against your chest, your thoughts would have been clouded by what felt like a smoldering campfire. Your mind and heart were cracking under the pressure of your own feelings; you had never felt such a deep love for someone, and yet you knew that you could never pursue it. But for now, you'd be happy just holding your friend and comforting him, trying your hardest to help him forget about the bastard that pushed him into your arms.

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

[gretavangroupie]

Vigilance (Chapter 17)

Word count: 21.7k

Pairings: Jake x Reader, Sam x OC

Warnings: 18+ as always, drinking, smoking, language, fluff, angst, smut, talk of violence and abusive situations, violence, weapons, blood.

This story is a collaboration with my best pal @gretavanmoon.

JANUARY 2022

HER POV

Your alarm sounds right on time, pulling you from your dreamless sleep. Your eyes pop open as you quickly spin to your side to press snooze. As you roll back onto your back you let out a sigh, desperate for that extra five minutes. You feel the bed shift, and feel Jake’s hand reach for you under the comfort of the sheets. 

“Already?” he asks, voice still full of sleep.

You roll towards him as he opens his arms to you, pulling you into his chest. So much for those extra minutes.

“I have five–no four minutes. Shh…” you groan.

“What if you just…didn’t go…” he whines.

“I have to go…It’s the first day back after the holidays…shhhhh….” you plead.

“You don’t have to, if you don’t want to…” he continues.

You press a kiss to his neck and roll away from him, plucking your phone from the nightstand and turning off the impending alarm. Pulling yourself from the warmth of the sheets you make your way over to the tall dresser, pulling out the drawer of your things and digging through it to find the items you stashed there. 

You hear him groan from the bed as he stiffens his body to stretch his legs and arms before pulling himself from the bed. 

“Fine, I guess I’ll go start the coffee…” he says, stepping out of the room. 

—

Stepping out of the bathroom, you have a fluffy towel wrapped around your body, and the warm mug that was kindly left for you on the bathroom counter, in hand. Jake is sitting on the edge of the bed, already dressed and ready for the day, down to his boots. 

“Big plans today?” you ask, grabbing your work clothes from your packed overnight bag. 

“Told Sam I would go help him with some things at his place, which I am sure will rope me into about ten other projects, but I also need to run down to the music store and pick up a few things. Other than that, not so much.” he answers, watching you dress. 

“Oh, tell him I said hi. I haven’t talked to him since…like, Christmas. Oh I wonder if I will get my new assignment today…” you say, thoughts bouncing around in your head.

“I will tell him. If you do get it, and it’s not us, call me.” he says sternly.

“Oh, yes sir…” you say facetiously.

“Be careful…” he says, raising an eyebrow to you. 

You finish buckling the strap on your heels, and stand up, smoothing out your skirt. “Okay, well, I’ll call you later?” you say, grabbing your multitude of bags and taking the last sip of your coffee.

“Would be sad if you didn’t.” he replies, standing to walk you out to the door. 

You stop in the doorway, turning to give him a quick peck as you rush by, “Love you.”

“Love you too, have a good day today.” he answers, opening the front door to let you out. 

—

Pulling into the parking lot you glance at the clock. 7:53. Perfect. The parking lot is full, and people are making their way to the front door as you step out of your car. Grabbing your coffee, and your laptop bag you stagger behind a group of people, just shy of catching the door. 

You pull your keycard from your laptop bag and hold it to the card reader. Blinking red? Huh.

You try it again. Same thing. What the hell? Someone you don’t recognize walks up behind you, seeing you struggle to unlock the doors with all of the things in your hands. 

“Hey, sorry my card isn't working for some reason.” you say, stepping to the side. 

“Oh, uh, they have been a little wonky since the holidays. Let me try mine.” he says, tapping his to the pad, and seeing it light up green. 

“We’re in!” he laughs, holding the door for you.

“Thanks, I will have to see what’s up with mine.” you laugh. 

You make your way up the elevator and to your desk, depositing your things onto the fresh workspace. You hung your purse on the hook, and sat down in your chair before opening your computer. 

You spent a lot of the morning sending over the revisions for the Strange Horizons expense documents, now that all the receipts had been provided, and as you hit send an email pinged into your inbox with an undeliverable message. Before you had a chance to click on it, your desk phone rang. 

“Hello?” you answered.

“Hey Y/N! It’s Allison, how are you this morning?” she asked.

“Hey, I’m good…Just trying to get settled back in.” you replied.

“Y/N, I’m going to need you to meet me in the boardroom in half an hour, okay?” she asks.

“Sure, no problem! Do I need to bring anything?” you ask.

“No, that won't be necessary. I’ll see you then.” she says, hanging up her phone.

Huh. That was… strange. 

You tried to busy yourself over the next thirty minutes but your mind was racing at the abruptness of this meeting, since you didn’t see it on the calendar for the day. You felt your hands start to grow clammy and your stomach start to swirl as the time dragged closer to 1:00.

As you pulled the door open to the board room you swallowed nervously, seeing the table filled with a few higher ups, and a few familiar faces, HR, Accounting, and Allison.

“Hi Y/N, thanks for coming in on such short notice.” Allison said. 

“Hi…” you said, voice shaky with nerves. 

“Just take a seat anywhere…” Allison said, tossing you a sorrowful look.

Your heart began to race as you realized that this wasn’t just a meeting your were attending, it was a meeting where you were the subject. 

“Hi Y/N, I’m Johnathan Myers, I am the head of HR here at Collective. I understand that you've been with us just shy of a year now.” he starts, and you nod your head in agreement. 

“I would just like to start out by saying that everyone that has worked with you has had nothing but positive things to say about you, your work ethic, and your dedication here at Collective. Unfortunately, something has come to light that makes my job a little bit difficult today.” he says, clicking the end of his pen. 

“We received a message a few weeks ago from someone that was working closely with the crew on your last assignment. She provided photo evidence that is directly in breach of the contract you signed with us.” he says, sliding you a manilla envelope full of photos and documents. 

You open the folder to find photos of you and Jake at various points during Strange Horizons. Times you thought you were alone. Times that look worse that they actually were. Times when things were far from innocent. 

“I see.” you say, closing the envelope. “If I may explain…” you plead.

“We will give you a chance to tell us everything, however, unfortunately based on the severity of the evidence provided not only from the photographer, but also the expense reports, the board has made the decision to let you go from Collective at this time.” he says.

You feel your heart drop into your stomach. “No, please if I could just explain…” you beg.

“I–I have known Jake, well, all of the Kiskza’s since we were children. We grew up together in Michigan. I watched their band start in their parents garage… Jake and I were in a relationship for quite some time while I was in college. I moved to Nashville and knew no one, I got a job here, and started working, realizing this was truly my passion. When Allison told me my first assignment was going to be going to work with them I panicked. I tried everything to get out of it. But it was unavoidable.” you pause, picking at your fingernails. 

“During the tour, Jake and I started talking again. Really I had no choice. After a few weeks things kind of picked up where they left off. I told him we couldn’t. I knew it was breaching my contract. Half of these photos that were taken were at times when we were hardly speaking to each other. They are telling a different story than what was actually happening, you have to believe me.” you beg.

“Y/N, this expense report from Austin, Texas shows a charge missing for crew lodging. Then again in Los Angeles, then again in Atlanta, Georgia. That combined with the photos, paints a very bad picture, you have to understand. While I am sure you never intended for this to happen this way, we have to take these kinds of things very seriously. Sadly, there is nothing further we can do for you at this point. We will be ending our professional relationship with you here today.” he says, finally. 

You feel the tears starting to well in your eyes. You knew it. You always knew. 

“I will say, however, that these young men care for you deeply. Josh called me himself to see if I would reconsider. Said that he has never had a better coordinator. The staff and crew we spoke to about this all said the same thing. It was never a question of whether you could do the job, Y/N. We just have these policies in place for a reason. We have to protect everyone involved. I’m very sorry that it turned out this way. We would be more than happy to give you any recommendations you may need.”

Josh knew? Did Jake know?

Taking one last look at the photos, you see a photo of you and Jake, standing in the rain arguing outside of that bar in Chicago. The night you both finally gave in. The night you decided he was worth any struggle you might face. Including this one. You closed the folder and slid it into the center of the meeting table. 

“Thank you so much for the opportunity. I completely understand the position you’re in and I want to thank you for hearing me out.” you say, turning on your heels to walk out the large wooden door. 

Collecting your items from your desk you leave your key card and your work computer, making sure to grab your tiny plant as you throw your purse over your shoulder. You are fighting back the tears threatening to spill over as you make a dash to your car. You open the back door, and throw all the items inside, not even caring where they land. 

You climb into the driver's seat and as the door shuts the tears begin to flow. A sob leaves your chest as the emotions seep out of every pore. Everything you worked for, gone with the snap of a finger. 

You rest your head on your steering wheel as you continue to cry, not a single thought in your head other than failure. You pull your phone from your purse with shaky hands as you press the icon to call Jake. You place the call on speakerphone, letting the shiny black device rest on your leg. 

You try to sniffle up the tears as the call rings out, but when you’re met with his voicemail you begin to cry harder. 

You toss your phone into the passenger seat, and start your car, knowing the only place you want to go is straight to Jake. You don’t even know if he’s home, but your brain is on autopilot, guiding you to your place of comfort. 

You blink away the tears as you merge onto the interstate, forced breaths still spilling from your chest. How am I going to afford my rent? How am I going to pay any of my bills? I’m going to have to leave Nashville.

Another round of sobs leaves your chest at the thought of losing everything, everyone, that you’ve held close. 

A few minutes later you are throwing your car into park as you head straight for his front door. It’s locked. You key in the lock combination and it unlocks, a chime filling the house as you enter. 

“Jake?” you cry out, voice still shaking with tears. 

You drop your things at the door and frantically search for him, “Jake, hello?” 

JAKE POV

“Y/N?” you ask, stepping out of your closet, with a wet towel in your hands. 

What is she doing here?

“Baby? What are you doing here? Oh my god, what’s wrong?” you ask, seeing her tear streaked face. You drop the towel to the ground and rush over to her.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” you ask, cupping her face in your hands. 

“I tried to… call you…” she says through sniffles.

“Oh no, I was in the shower, I’m sorry… I…” you stammer. 

“Jake…They fired me.” she says, a whimper leaving her throat.

“What? Baby, why?” you ask, shock overtaking your body.

“Because of you! Because of the pictures! Summer she… showed them, she sent them everything–” she rambles, too many thoughts trying to escape at once. 

“What?! Summer? No! They can't do that, that's bullshit! No, they don’t even know, they–” you stammer, fury filling your mind.

“No Jake! They can and they did! I signed the contract. I breached it. I’m done. I’m fired. There’s nothing I can do. I tried to explain. They didn’t care, Jake!”

“No! I’ll call them right now. I–I’ll tell them it was me. It was all me and that you didn’t… I–I….” you trail off, dragging your hands across your face. 

“This was what I was always afraid of Jake! This is exactly it. This is what you said wouldn’t happen. You wouldn’t let this happen! It happened!” she cries.

Oh fuck…

“Y/N, please, I… I didn’t think–” you start.

“Exactly! We didn’t think! I fucked up! I shouldn’t have done this. We should have waited! My career is over Jake! I am going to be blacklisted from every agency from here to LA! Do you get that? Everything I worked for is gone!” she yelled, guilt filling your body.

“I have no job! I have no way to pay my rent. Oh my god, I’m gonna have to move home…” she says, shock and realization hitting her all at once. 

“Fuck! No! Absolutely not. You aren’t leaving. You can't! I’ll pay your rent. I’ll pay your bills, I… I don't care. You know that!”

“I can’t let you do that Jake! I have no idea how long it's going to take me to find another job! If I can find another job! I’m not your burden!” she yells.

You pace the room with your fingers on your chin, “Okay, then you can…You can stay here.” you plead. “This house is plenty big enough. It doesn’t feel like home when you’re not here anyways.”

“Plus I… want you here. All the time. You know that. I hate when you’re not here.” you beg. 

“Jake, you don’t really want that. I thought you needed space and alone time and–” she starts.

“It’s the only thing I’ve wanted since I was sixteen years old!” you interrupt. “Remember what I used to say? I wanted an old house, with old furniture? The part I never told you was that you were there too. Living in the old house with me.” you say, grabbing her arms. 

“I wanna wake up to you in my bed every single day. I wanna make breakfast with you and talk about our days. Come back at the end of the night and drink wine on the living room floor...All of it. I want it with you.” you say, looking into her bloodshot eyes, starting to well with tears once again.

“You take up every ounce of space in my head...and in my heart...I learned the hard way that it’s never gonna be anyone else. It’s always going to be you. So I’m fighting this time. I didn’t fight for you last time. But now I am. I’m not letting you slip away from me again.” you say, pulling her close to you. 

“I don’t know Jake. This is… so much…I just… need some time. I need to think…I don’t even know what I want right now.” she says, pulling away from you. 

You feel your heart drop as she steps over to the window. 

“I just can’t lose you again.” you say. 

“I’m scared Jake. I just lost my job. My entire life is up in the air now. Things with us were just starting to feel right… I don’t want to move in with you because you don’t want me to leave you again. I want to move in with you because you love me and want to keep moving forward in this relationship. You know? I don’t want it to be rushed. I don’t want to force something we weren’t ready for.” she asks.

“It’s not rushed! I know I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I have known practically my whole life! I bought this house for us, before I ever even knew if I would see you again! I meant it when I said everything I have is yours. I want all of this to be ours. I need you here Y/N. Having you here these past few weeks only solidified that feeling. Do you… not feel the same?” you ask, hesitantly. 

“No, I…I do. I–I’m just scared. I’m mad. I’m angry at Summer. I’m angry at you. I don’t know what to do.” she says, a single tear leaking from her eye. 

“I know. I’m so so sorry baby. You have to believe me. I never thought this would happen. Just know I will do anything I can and you don’t have to decide right now…I will do anything to keep you here. Where you belong.” you say, swiping the tear from her eye.

“I think I just need to think. I need some time away from all of this… to figure out what to do…I don’t want to be mad at you Jake, but, I am. I’m hurt.” she says, pulling away.

“Okay, well…If you decide this isn’t what you want, and you don’t want to be with me anymore, I’ll let you go. I’ll respect that choice and I’ll move on. I don’t know how, but I will. I did it once. But just know if you’re in, I’m in for good.” you say. 

She turns to face you, eyes filled with sadness. “Please don’t make this harder…” she begs. 

“Tell me you’ll come back. Tell me you aren’t leaving for good…” you plead.

“I just need some space…” she breathes, gathering her things near the door. 

“Please, just tell me you love me one more time…just in case…” you beg. 

You watch her bottom lip quiver as she tries to force the words out, “I love you, Jake.” she whispers, her eyes blinking out heavy tears. 

“Fuck, you’re killing me. Ripping my heart out and taking it with you Y/N. Please, please come back, okay?” you say, holding back your own tears. 

She looks at you one last time before slipping out the door. 

As it latches shut, you wonder if that will be the last time those words leave her lips.

—

As badly as she hurt you just now, and as badly as she’s torn up, you knew somewhere deep down that she would be back. She’s upset, she’s pissed, and she’s embarrassed. You knew her, knew she sometimes overreacted with her emotions and made big decisions when she was upset, a flaw that somehow was endearing to you. 

She needed time, and she needed space. And you knew it wouldn’t be long, you hoped. In the meantime, you felt as though you needed to let loose on someone. She wasn’t the only one filled with rage over the whole situation. 

You went back into your bedroom to find your phone, finding the correct contact for Collective. They deserved to hear your piece. 

You finally found the extension for HR, and spoke with a bit of fire in your tone. You told them the entire backstory, of which they said they understood, that Y/N had given those same details. You explained how your relationship had begun many many moons ago, and that your families were so close that you shared every holiday since you were kids. 

You begged them to reconsider, pleaded with them that it was your fault, but still ended up empty handed. Before the phone call ended, you suggested that even though you understood these rules were set for good reasons, that they should seriously consider restating them, or even adding a clause for special situations such as this. Because in all reality, it was completely unfair. 

Your next order of business was to take care of the Summer problem. You dialed up the number for the label, of which you knew by heart now. 

“Hey, this is Jake. I was wanting to speak with someone in HR, I need to file a formal complaint.”

SAM POV

You felt your phone buzzing in your pocket, trying to ignore it while you hashed out the notes for a new melody on your piano. Just let it ring, you told yourself. The buzzing continued and you finally gave in, pulling it out and seeing a familiar name. 

Y/N?

The buzzing stopped and your lock screen appeared as you collected your thoughts. You haven’t spoken in so long…what could she need?

When your mind came back to earth, you hit redial, letting the call ring back. 

“Hey, Sammy. Sorry if I bothered you…” she said, voice low and somber. 

“No no you aren’t bothering me. What’s up?” You replied. 

“I- um. Are you busy right now?” She asked. 

“Uh, no, not really. You ok?” You asked, feeling concerned. 

“Um, I’m not the best,” she breathed out through a fake laugh. “Would you want to…come over? For just a little bit. I could really…I need to just, talk. I guess.” She said. 

You paused for a long second, collecting your thoughts. She wouldn’t call unless she really needed you, right?

“Yeah, sure. I can be there in just a little bit.” You said, checking the time. “Are you not at Jake’s?”

“No, I’m at my apartment, actually.” She said, voice going low again. 

Oh. 

“Oh alright, ok I’ll be there soon.” You replied hanging up the phone, wondering why she would have gone back to her place, and hoping that there was nothing really wrong. 

—

Three little knocks.

You found yourself feeling out of place as you stood on the front porch of her apartment, waiting for her to answer the door. When you got her phone call, you were surprised to say the least. It’s been weeks, and you’ve barely said ten words to each other. On your own accord, of course. You knew it was upsetting her, and you’d stepped away for a good reason, but you’d definitely left her in the dark. 

You paced around awkwardly, fiddling with the pothos plant sitting on a shelf in the corner. Finally you heard the door lock click, and the doorknob twist. She opened the door just halfway, exposing only a portion of herself. She looked upset, downtrodden and exhausted, and you immediately felt the need to comfort her. 

“You know, this plant would do a ton better inside. It hates the direct sunlight…” you trailed off, still fiddling with the browning leaves. 

The huge smile that crossed her face was stark in contrast to the way her appearance was, but it was contagious. It always was. The saying ‘her smile could light up a room’ was completely true in her case, the way her eyes smiled before the rest of her face did. 

“Well, bring it in here, then.” She said as she opened the door wider, inviting you and her plant inside. 

You walked in, feeling like you were entering a place with no trespassing signs hanging all over the walls. It was bizarre, coming back into a home where you used to feel so comfortable and welcome, but now feeling like an alien on another planet. You brought the plant over to the kitchen sink and stuck it under the faucet. 

“Just a little bit of water, not too much or you’ll drown it.” You said as you turned on the faucet, letting the soil moisten. “Spray the leaves off a little bit too, they like to be able to breathe..” you placed the planter in the wide windowsill above the kitchen sink, gently pulling the long trailing vines of leaves up to rest along the counter. 

When you were satisfied with your work, you turned around to find her leaned with her back against the refrigerator, watching you intently with her head resting in her hand. Tears had filled her eyes, and her exhausted appearance found its way to her body again. 

“Thank you, Sammy.” She said sweetly. You felt your heart ache. 

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” You finally asked quietly. She wiped her eyes, trying to dry herself up, but to no avail. Her tears were falling harder now, her chest heaving with sobs. Damn, she really is upset. “Hey, babe, what is it? You can tell me…”

She slowly walked over, reaching her arms out to wrap you up in them, taking you in an embrace that you’d missed so, so terribly. Her face buried in your chest, her breathing on the skin of your neck…You lifted your arms to hug her back, letting yourself hold her for just a second, but then suddenly feeling the wild thoughts rushing through your mind again. Too close. 

You pulled away quickly, pulling her arms off of you with a little bit of force as you stepped back. The action surprised her, making the sadness on her face even more heart wrenching. It’s killing me too, babe.

“What the fuck Sam? I can’t even hug you anymore?” She sounded pissed. 

Here came the rage again. 

“No, fuck. You can’t Y/N. You can’t hug me like that anymore.” You spat. 

“WHY? Why can’t I?!” She yelled. 

“Because! It makes me feel a way that I’m not allowed to feel anymore, okay? Feeling you touch me again is just…” you let your words hang. 

She tilted her head back, exasperated, and walked quickly to the couch. “Come here. Sit down.” She demanded. You followed suit. 

She took a deep breath as she pulled her legs underneath her. “Did I…do something wrong, Sammy? We haven’t spoken in like a month…I just…don’t know…” you watched as her lip quivered, trying to fight back an emotion she used to let fall so freely with you. 

You didn’t know what to say, you didn’t come prepared to talk about this. Though, you’d walked right into it. The way she talked on the phone, you thought something else would be discussed right now. Beating around the bush would keep things light and professional, but your insides were being ripped apart from not being honest with your other half, and telling her every emotion you’ve been bottling up for way too long. 

You sighed, deciding to just go with your instinct. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Y/N…” your words felt like they were on fire in your mouth, clawing their way out of your throat while you tried your best to extinguish them. 

“Then why are you ignoring me? Ever since Thanksgiving and after our…talk…that night on the floor, I thought we were going to be able to talk about our past like it was nothing, but…”

“Is that what it was to you, Y/N? Nothing?” You said flatly. Your heart felt like she’d ripped it out, and stomped all over it. 

She went silent, looking like you’d just slapped her across the face. 

“Of course it wasn’t nothing, Sam, god. It was…everything to me…while it was happening.” She bit back. 

“Then why did you call it nothing?” You asked, seeing if you could pull a little more from her before spilling your guts all over her couch. 

She stared at you with a confused admission, opening her mouth and closing it again over and over, trying to find the words. “I don’t know, Sam, I- Jake came back and…you know…things just, went…” 

You nodded slowly. “Yeah, they definitely went...” 

“What do you mean, Sam? We had a pretty clear agreement on everything, and how we were handling our situation…I don’t know why you’re so upset with me for sticking to it, not letting my feelings get involved.” Her voice was rising now, and she was talking with her hands. She barely ever talked with her hands, only when she was lying. 

You stopped her. “Wait, not letting your feelings get involved? I thought you didn’t have any feelings for me?” You pressed, leaving her completely silent. 

Her eyes closed, the realization of her words hitting her. She scooted closer to you on the couch, sitting crossed legged and facing you. She let her face fall into her hands as she tried to breathe. You felt your heart pumping hard in your chest, your ears going deaf. 

Finally, after a few seconds, she pulled up. She slowly grabbed your hands, taking them in hers. Her touch. It felt like electricity. 

“Sam, listen to me. I’m going to be completely honest with you, because you deserve nothing but the truth. You’re my best friend on the whole earth, and I can not live my life lying to you, ok?” She said through choppy breaths. Her hands were twisting themselves with yours. 

“Do you remember the night I woke up and found you playing piano, playing our song?” She asked quietly, the memory finding your brainwaves once again. You nodded. 

“Well, you told me you couldn’t sleep, because you were scared of the uncertainty of your future…and that completely broke me, Sam. It made me scared and nervous, for myself and for you…anyways, after we went back to bed, I didn’t sleep the rest of the night.” She admitted. You still felt confused, unsure of what she was saying. 

“Why not?” You whispered. 

“Because…because I- felt something new that night, for you, that I hadn’t ever felt…before, ever. A big, huge feeling…watching you sleep next to me.” She stammered. “I don’t know what the feeling was, it was so unexpected…but it scared the hell out of me, Sam. And I…still feel it, sometimes. Not recently, but. It comes and goes.” She became red in the face, completely embarrassed at her admission. You knew she felt guilty. 

“But I can’t feel it, Sam. I can’t. I can’t ever let it come back…” 

“Then why did you let it go away at all?” You asked quietly, tears filling your eyes, too. 

She shook her head. “You know why, Sammy.” The tears falling quickly now. 

You felt like your entire body was floating, her words dancing around in your mind, making you hate yourself and love yourself at the same time. 

She felt the same. Maybe not now, but she did. At some point in all of this, she was right where you are now. 

You decided to meet her energy. You took her hands even more tightly, clearing your throat. You suddenly felt a wave of comfort come over your body, and you felt prepared to share. 

“I lied to you, Y/N. I lied to you for a very long time.” You admitted with confidence. Her face turned from sadness to surprise, and her mouth hung open. 

“But I lied to myself, too. Listen. Our relationship, sex-ationship, whatever the hell that was, was one of the absolute best times in my life. My absolute favorite person in the world came back to me so unexpectedly, and we picked up right where we left off. Except, we allowed ourselves to feel a little more…seriously. Right? Act on the one thing we never got to experience together. We agreed that it was never anything more than just physical. And it wasn’t. For the longest time. I had suppressed all those old feelings for you, they were truly gone. Meanwhile, you and I made some of the most beautiful and mind-blowing love that I have ever experienced in my life, do you hear me? Whatever wild connection you and I have, it’s…” you paused, wanting to leave a little respect for Elle and Jake in the picture. “I sometimes wish that during our time together, I would have felt those feelings for you, because it would have made it that much more meaningful.” 

“Anyway, things changed. You got with Jake, Elle came back. I’m the happiest I’ve ever been with her, Y/N, I hope you know that. And I can see you and Jake are the same. But, at Thanksgiving, when we laid on the floor and you told me all those things…how you wanted me to be your first, and how you used to think about me, it flipped some sort of stupid switch in me. Ever since that night, my feelings for you, the real ones, came flying back at me. And they’ve overtaken me, I’m driving myself insane, Y/N.” You felt tears coming as you struggled to find the right words. 

“I’ve fought the feelings for weeks, drinking myself silly, racking myself with guilt, I feel so…ugh I don’t even know the words. That’s why I’ve been so distant. But they are back. And I don’t know what to do with them. And I’m sorry. And it’s wrong, it’s so wrong, Y/N. If Jake or Elle ever knew… I…” you stopped and trailed off, feeling like you got most of it out. 

She sat and looked at you with the strangest expression. Proud, for your admission. Happy that you felt that way. But mostly guilt-stricken, because maybe she felt the same way, too. 

“We don’t need to talk about it, ok? We don’t need to discuss, or figure anything out. I feel like, maybe, you and I are just meant to be connected in some crazy, fucked up way, and the years are going to go on and the feelings will come back, and leave again but. I’m trying my best, right now. That’s why I asked Elle to move in. I’m ready to move on with her, she’s it for me. I don’t want to fuck anything up with her. I’m fucking crazy about her…” you trailed off as the proudest smile crept its way to her face, turning into a giggle. 

“Why are you laughing?” You asked, a smile finding your face, too. 

“I love watching you talk about her. I love watching you talk about your future with her. It makes me feel so happy that you’re in love...” She went on, her words filling you with pride and heartbreak at the same time. You’d just told Danny that you were in love with her, too. 

You laid your head back on her couch and huffed out a sigh. “This is so stupid, isn’t it?” You asked her, not really looking for an answer. 

“Yeah, it really is. But, I’m glad we got it out, the both of us. Even if it was hard. Maybe now we can put it behind us. We can’t tell another soul about this, ok?” She said, laying her hand on your knee. 

“Well, Daniel kinda knows…” you admitted, biting your lip. 

“Well, fuck. Ok, he can’t tell a soul, either. Got it?” She laughed. 

“You got it, babe.” 

You brought your hand to her face, moving in closely, an action that was risky given your conversation, but you didn’t want her to even think for one second you’d abandoned her. Never again. 

“Maybe we can find each other again, in another life, in another realm…maybe we already do exist together, somewhere else. That’s why we’re always so close, but so far away all the time. We’re connected elsewhere…” you said, brushing your thumb over her cheek. “I’m so sorry I’ve been acting like an ass. I’ve just really been struggling with this.”

She smiled into your hand. “I know. I’ve felt it in the past, too. But at least we can talk about it now and not feel ashamed. We’ve got to try and move on…it’s doing nothing but hurting us. I belong to Jake, no questions asked.” 

You took a deep breath and nodded. “And I’m Elle’s. We’ve gotta go grow up now, Y/N.”

It was quiet for a bit more while you sat in comfortable silence.

“Wait, why were you sad when I got here? Was something else going on?” You asked, suddenly remembering she answered the door crying. 

“Yeah, actually. That’s why I called you. I um, I got fired. From Collective.” She said defeatedly. 

Your mouth fell open. “What?! Are you joking? Because of Jake? There’s no way, that’s not right, we signed your paperwork… are you sure?”

“Yeah, they called me in for a meeting today. Told me they had photo evidence from Summer and there was nothing they could do. I breached my contract.” She said. 

“Did you explain to them? Did you tell them the situation? This isn’t happening…” you went on, feeling butterflies fluttering in your stomach. 

“I did, I tried. I couldn’t argue with them. They made me pack up and give them my key…I was so pissed, Sam. I knew this would happen. I fucking knew it. Now, I don’t have a job, I can’t pay my rent, my bills… I don’t know what I’m going to do. That’s why I’m here, Jake promised everything was going to be okay, and it’s not. I’m so upset with him, or toward him…I don’t know. I have to figure something else out, now. Everything is so fucked.” She went on, her body language falling again. 

“So wait, you left Jake’s house and came back here after you found out?” You asked, puzzled. “Why aren’t you still at his house?” 

“I had to leave, Sam. I couldn’t be around him. He said this wasn’t going to happen and it did! I lost my job because of us being together. I needed some space to think…” she said. 

You were stunned. “Wait, Y/N, it wasn’t his fault you got fired…you got mad at him because you got fired? That doesn’t make any sense…” you went on. “Honestly you shouldn’t need to think about anything at all, you two made this decision together…not just him.”  

She avoided eye contact. She knew you were right. 

“Hey, don’t be like that to him. Come on, he doesn’t deserve the blame. You’ve gotta see that, right?” You said, trying to be understanding. 

“He basically asked me to move in with him, Sam. Because I don’t have anywhere else to go except back to Michigan. If I move in with him, I want it to be on terms where I’m not desperate, and have no other choice. I want him to want me to live with him, not need to. Does that make sense?” She said. 

You thought for a second. “I mean I guess…don’t you already stay with him most nights anyway? And have a bunch of your stuff there? Hell, Y/N, you’re lying to yourself if you don’t notice all his hints that he wants you to live with him now, and has for a long time. Think about it...” You said, laughing. “Are you serious?”

“Yes I’m serious, Sam. I need some time to think. That’s a very big move in a relationship…” she said, her attitude showing through. 

“Uh, ya think? I just asked Elle to move in with me…don’t you think I know exactly how big that feels? Why are you being like this?” You were starting to get irked with her. Jake didn’t deserve that. 

“Listen, I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I’ll…get over it soon, I guess. Just need some freaking time, ok? Today has just been a lot. I can’t believe I lost the career of my dreams.” She said. 

“Yeah, ya know what? I can’t let this happen.” You said, pulling your phone out to call Josh. 

He picked up after one ring. 

“Hey, we need to all meet at the office like, stat. Can you make that happen? I’m already on my way. All four of us, yeah. Yeah. Okay, see you in a few.”

You hung up and stood up, ready to head to the office. 

“I’m gonna figure this out, Y/N. There’s no way they can do this. We contracted you already. And photo evidence? Of what?” You went on. 

“Sam, stop. You don’t have to figure anything out. It’s a done deal, there’s nothing anyone can do. I’m going to have to leave.” She said. 

“Oh no you’re not. You don’t have to go anywhere. You need to go home to Jake, and apologize for freaking out on him for no reason. We’re figuring this out.” You said. 

She stood up beside you, ready to stop you from going out the door. You put your hand to her shoulder. 

“Babe, let me fight for you. One more time, please. Let me try to help.” You pleaded. 

Her arms fell to her sides in defeat as she let you go. 

“Ugh okay, go.” She motioned toward the door. “Thank you for coming over Sammy. I’m really glad we talked finally. And thanks for calling me out on my pettiness.” She said, walking toward her front door. “I’ll go back to him, I just need some time to think. Figure some shit out. And I promise, you really don’t have to fight this hard for me.”

“We need you with us more than you think.” You said, sending her a wink. You turned around on the porch as she stood in the doorway watching you go. “You’re still my best girl, remember?”  

Josh’s words from Thanksgiving replayed in your head. 

‘Did you ever fight for them? Did you ever go to bat for them? No, you didn’t.’

So this was your time. You had to find a way to fix it. 

——

You hopped back in your car and pulled out your  phone as you backed out of the parking lot, bringing up Elle’s contact as it connected to the Bluetooth. 

“Hey babe, what’s up?” She answered. 

“Hey, I’ve gotta go to the office for a while, we’ve gotta have a meeting. Y/N just got fired.” You said. 

“Oh my god, what?! You’re kidding! Why?” She yelled. 

“Apparently Summer was taking photos of her and Jake, and she turned them into Collective. I don’t know much else, but I will probably be home late. She’s threatening to move back home.” You said, thinking about running a stoplight. 

“Shit. Should I go over to her apartment?” She asked. 

“Might not be a bad idea, babe. Be careful, I’ll talk to you tonight.” You said. 

“Okay, love you.” 

“Love you more.”

—

A few minutes later, you pulled into the office, and rushed through the double doors to the meeting room, finding Josh and Danny had beaten you there. 

“What the fuck is going on? Y/N got fired!” You screamed, yanking a chair out from the table and sitting down. 

They were both quietly sitting, nodding their heads. 

“Hello, did you hear me? Collective fired her today…” you said, slapping your hands on the table. 

“Yeah Sam, we know.” Daniel said. 

You were shocked. “What do you mean you know? Both of you knew?” You asked. They nodded. 

“For how long?! Did you know it was going to happen before she did?” You yelled. 

Danny glanced to Josh. 

“I knew, they called me a few days ago.” He admitted, hanging his head. 

“What the fuck Josh! And you didn’t think to tell us? Tell her, warn her?” You were getting more mad by the second. 

Just then, the doors opened again as Jake came in, turning and locking the doors behind him. He bounded into the meeting room, his body language feeling bigger than normal. 

He took a seat, picked up a pen from the table and began clicking it. “Y/N got fired today.” He said blankly. 

“Yeah, we fuckin’ know. And guess who else knows? Josh! And Daniel! Go ahead Josh, tell him how long you’ve known!” You motioned towards him. Jake’s face fell, and turned into something morbid. He spun in his chair, fully facing his twin. Josh wasn’t scared of Jake, and vice versa, but sometimes you could tell when they feared each other, simply because of them feeling the other’s emotions so strongly. 

Josh shook his head, running his hand through his curls. “Fuck. They called me a couple days ago. Told me they needed to let her go because she breached her contract, all that bullshit. I asked them how they had knowledge, and they said that they received photo evidence from our photographer… I guess you guys weren’t as secretive as you thought you were. They also went back and said they had proof she wasn’t staying in assigned crew lodging. Anyways, I tried everything, I swear I did. Called straight to the head of HR, told them no one did the job better than her, that it didn’t make sense to fire her. I also told them your situation was a bit more serious than just fraternizing.”

You watched as Jake stared at Josh in disbelief for a few seconds before turning his swivel chair back around to face the table. 

“Why didn’t you tell me, Josh.” Jake said quietly, you could tell he was disappointed. 

“I was going to, Jake. I swear I was. I was just trying to figure out how.” Josh said, sincerity in his voice. 

Suddenly, you noticed something on Daniel’s face. He looked swollen? “Daniel, what the fuck happened to your lip?” You asked, interrupting the conversation. 

Daniel removed his folded hands from covering his face, scooting his chair to the table. He cleared his throat. “Well Sam, that’s why Josh and I didn’t get to tell you immediately about Y/N. Josh asked me to dinner to talk about how to tell you all, and I kind of…” Danny stopped, looking to Josh. 

“Daniel got into an altercation. With Andy.” Josh said flatly. 

You and Jake simultaneously fell back into your chairs, completely shocked by that statement. 

“WHAT?” Jake yelled, not holding back any of his rage at this point. “With Andy? A fight. You got into a fight with him. Where?” Jake began to stand up. 

“Josh and I were in a restaurant on the other side of town, trying to figure out how the hell we were going to tell you about Y/N when I saw Andy walk by. I got up immediately, ran after him. He got away from me, even as I was chasing him down. He rounded a corner and went down an alley. We cornered him, asked him why the hell he was here, what he wanted. Told him we knew he’d been following us, following her.” Danny explained. 

“Yeah, he said some fucked up shit. Guess Danny let him get the best of him. He knew a bunch of other shit, too, like personal things about Daniel. They ended up having it out on the concrete. We told him he needed to stay away from her, from all of us or else we were going to move to more drastic measures.” Josh went on. “Jake, I honestly think now might be the time for those drastic measures.” Josh bit his thumbnail. 

You could feel the same rage that Jake was feeling, boiling up in the pit of your stomach. How long had he been back? Why didn’t they tell you? What else did he know? 

“So you’re telling me you’ve both known he’s been back for more than 24 hours, and neither of you thought to text Sam and I 911? The thing we all agreed on, if we ever saw him again?” Jake was staying as calm as possible, but his voice was beginning to become louder, laced with venom. 

“Did the both of you forget that he could get to her at any given moment if I’m not there? Hell, or Elle? The one thing I asked of everybody…” he was yelling now. “I can’t fucking believe this shit!” He was pacing around the room, you could feel his nerves radiating off his body. 

“And now I won’t even be there to protect her, since she’s fired. I won’t even know where she is half the time!” He yelled, throwing his hands above his head. 

“Jake, please, man. We were trying to tell you. Shit just got…so fucked up.” Daniel said. 

Jake leaned his hands down on the table, looking directly at Daniel. “A text, Daniel. That’s all I asked for. And neither of you could be fucking bothered with it.” He continued to walk around the table. 

“And you know what the worst part about all this is? She left. We got into a huge fight, because I told her I wouldn’t let her get fired. And she trusted me. Now look where we are. She won’t answer my phone calls, texts, nothing. I don’t even know where she is. Just gone.” He sat down hard once he got back to his chair. “I’m gonna fuckin’ lose her again, I just know it.” 

It was silent for a few beats. “She’s home, Jake. At her apartment. She’s fine.” You said under your breath, treading lightly. 

You could feel his eyes boring into the side of your head. “Oh great. So she’ll talk to you then, huh. Did she call you? Go crawling back to you like she does every time we fight?” 

Fuck. 

“Jake, now come on. Please. She was upset as hell. She will be fine, she just needs to figure some shit out. Imagine if your entire career got ripped out from under you. You’d be fucked up too.” You dismissed his insinuation, trying to focus on the bigger picture. “Elle was going over to her apartment to be with her. She’s not alone.” 

He shook his head, forcing his tongue into the sides of his cheeks as his mind raced. You were starting to worry about him finding Elle, now, too. 

Jake finally spoke. “Listen. If we are gonna make this work, I need us to be on the same fuckin’ page. All the time. Can we do that? I need to trust you three. One hundred percent. It feels a bit like we’re starting to forget that.” His leg was bouncing hard up and down. 

His words hit you hard. You nodded to him. “Yeah. No more bullshit.” 

“Jake, it wasn’t my place to tell her about the job, or you…we were trying to figure that part out in the most professional way we could. She needed to hear it from them. Imagine how awful it would have been if I had to be the one to let her know she was fired?” Josh said. 

“All of it is all of our place, Josh. We’re a unit, no individuals. Do you get that? We’re family.” Jake responded, not making eye contact with him. 

Josh nodded, and so did Daniel. “Yeah. Family. Okay. I really am sorry, brother.” Josh said quietly. 

“I’m sorry, too.” Danny admitted. 

Jake grinned for just a second. “I hope he looks worse than you, Danny.” 

Danny took a deep breath. “Well, there’s a little bit more, Jake.” He said, rubbing his hands on his knees. “He pulled a knife on me.”

“Are you kidding me?” You said, in complete disbelief. 

He shook his head. “No, threatened me with it, too. And…right before we left, he told us to enjoy our time with Y/N, because our time with her is limited.”

“That’s why I think these drastic measures need to be taken soon, Jacob.” Josh added. 

Jake’s eyes grew wide. “What the hell does that mean?” 

You felt your stomach turn. Limited? Andy could truly get fucked. 

“Don’t know. Honestly, he was probably just talking a big game. He probably knew she was getting fired, with how much he was saying he knew about us. It was so freaky.” Josh said. 

The table went quiet again as everyone’s heads spun. “We need a game plan. Josh, do you have the photos?” Jake asked. 

“Actually, I do. They emailed them to me, after I requested them. I had to do a little convincing, but after I told them that they were photos taken with a company owned camera, without your immediate consent and without either of your knowledge, they softened up a bit.” Josh pulled out his phone, flicking through his emails. “I haven’t looked at them.”

Jake took the phone. “Come around me, I want us all to see them together. No secrets.” He took a deep breath as everyone crowded behind him, and he opened the attachment. You felt a pang of something in your stomach, jealousy at what you were about to see? But you pushed it away. 

Jake flipped through the attachments, various darkened photos of them in close quarters, holding hands, standing in the rain together…one looked like it was taken between the seats of a plane, another through a window of a crew trailer. 

“Mother fucker…she was watching you guys.” You said in disbelief. 

“Yeah, damn good thing I fired her ass already.” Jake said. 

“What?”  You all said in unison. 

He chuckled. “Yeah, when Y/N got home and told me, I immediately called Collective to try and talk them out of it, too. Told them everything. That we grew up together, dated in the past, that we’re very seriously involved, even lied and told them we lived together. Let them know it had all become serious again after she was hired, and I’m the one they should put the blame on, not her. They didn’t take my plea, either, of course.”

“Anyway, I called the label and told them we would like Summer to be let go effective immediately. Also told them to flag her for inappropriate sexual advancements to myself, with witnesses. Not sure they were expecting that one, but. I’m not sorry I didn’t consult with you three about that decision. I’m sure you all agree we couldn’t trust her. Also I can’t believe Collective never got the photos of us ice skating…I was positive a fan was going to leak that shit.”

“Yeah, I’m not arguing with you about that move. Her photos were great, but. This is overstepping…” you added, wondering what else she may have photographed in her time with the band. 

—

JAKE POV

Pushing back from the table, you stand and pull your keys from your pocket, “Alright, so we’re done here?” you ask.

“Is there anything else we can do?” Sam asks.

“No Sammy, I think they have done enough, don’t you?” you say pointedly.

“Jake, come on…” Daniel replies.

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” you say, and with that you are walking out to your car.

Slamming the door shut you push the keys into the ignition and pull out of the parking lot. You slide your phone out of your pocket, hoping to see her name on the screen but you’re met with nothing. 

You swallow nervously as your mind starts to wander, filling your brain with visions of her leaving, and her parting ‘I love you.’

No. Fuck this.

You hit her contact and hold your phone to your ear, letting the tone ring out. You tap your fingers on the steering wheel, anxious to see if she will answer, but again you are met with her voicemail. 

You drop your phone into your lap as you bite the inside of your cheek. Just give her time. She will come around. Right?

Pulling into your driveway you quickly throw your car in park, and jump out, the streets quieter than usual. You take a look around as you head up to your front door, enter your code, and step over the threshold. The house is cold and empty. You swear you can still hear the echoes of your fight earlier. 

Walking straight to the kitchen you pour yourself a drink, and make your way back to your study. You set your drink on the coffee table before stretching out on the couch, grabbing the book you started a few days ago. A few minutes pass, and though you’re reading the words on the page you can’t focus, the nagging feeling of your phone in your pocket driving you mad. 

Is she okay? Is she still at home?

You sit up, taking another sip from your glass, letting the liquid burn down the back of your throat. It isn’t long until you start to feel yourself relaxing. You try to pick up your book again, but still, it’s not sinking in. You toss it back onto the table with a sigh and you place your hands behind your head, staring up at the ceiling. 

How can you fix this?

You stand from the couch, making your way upstairs and into your guest room, where your little studio had been so lovingly crafted. Sitting down at the table, you open the leather sketchbook, letting your fingers glide across the cluster of stars, as you pull a perfectly sharpened pencil from the cup. 

How did you used to do this? How did you start?

You put the pencil to paper and began outlining. You had a vision in your head, and you let your hand guide you as you began to fill the page with your ideas. By the time you feel like you’ve accomplished a rough outline your eyes flick to the clock on the wall. 11:43. 

You flick off the lamp, and stand from the chair, closing the sketchbook. Your heart twists as you see her words scrawled across the first page. You let out a sigh, and make your way back downstairs, locking the door and setting the alarm. 

Stripping yourself of your clothes, you crawl into your bed, and grab her pillow. You quickly turn off the lights and place your phone on the nightstand. You breathe in the scent of her on the sheets and as your eyes grow heavy you wonder what you could have done differently, that could have made her stay.

—

The faint knocking sound causes your eyes to spring open. Am I dreaming? You sit up in the bed, listening in the pitch black bedroom to see if you hear it again. You glance at the clock. 1:20.

Knock, knock.

Who the hell?

You slide out of bed, and realize you’re only in your boxers. You grab your pants from the floor and pull them on in a shimmy as you step into the hallway making your way to the front door. You disarm your security system, and clear your throat. 

As you open the front door, your eyes widen as you see Y/N standing on the porch. 

“Y/N, what are you doing? It’s so late…How long have you been knocking?” you ask.

“I’m so sorry Jake. I…I know it's late. I’m sorry I woke you up. I tried to call you, but you didn’t answer.” she says nervously. 

“I probably slept right through it… Come on, come inside. How long have you been out there?” you ask.

“Ten minutes maybe? I was about to give up.” she says, stepping through the doorway. 

You shut the door behind her, locking it and making your way back to your bedroom. 

“I…” you pause. “...I missed you. I tried to call you. Text you… I was worried about you.” you say quietly. 

“I know. I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I was just so… mad. Maybe not even mad, more, embarrassed that you saw all this happen. I just needed to go be embarrassed alone, which actually turned into a lecture from Sam, and then Elle.” she laughed. 

Music to your ears. 

“A lecture?” you questioned.

“Kind of, yeah. I think I am just a really big idiot. For some reason I convinced myself that you only wanted me to move in because you felt like I had no other option and you just felt bad for me or something. I felt like the situation was forcing your hand. But now, I realize how stupid that is. I feel like subtly you’ve been asking me to move in for a few weeks.” she says. 

“Y/N… I didn’t ask you to move in because I thought you had no other choice. I asked you because I love you. I want to see you, here, everyday. Sure, maybe I never flat out asked, but I think I was just waiting until I felt like it was the right time for you. Until I felt like I knew if I asked you, there would be no hesitation in your response. So, yeah, I did ask you today, but only because I love you and care about you and don’t want you to ever have to worry about paying your rent, paying your bills, moving home… any of that. Just live with me. We will figure out the rest.” you finish, running your hand over her arm. 

Her eyes meet yours, blinking slowly, “Okay.”

“Okay? Okay yes? Okay you’ll move in?” you ask, a grin spreading across your face. 

She smiles back at you, “Okay yes, I’ll move in with you.”

You pull her into your chest, wrapping your hand around her head, you place a kiss to her hair. “I love you so much. I swear you’ll never have to worry about another thing, ever again.” you promise. 

“I love you too. You know I couldn’t stay away from you. Not for long.” she whispers against your chest.  “Can we…go to bed? I think today was the longest day of my life.”

You pull away from her, lacing your hand with hers before pulling it up to your lips. “Let’s go to bed. Our bed.” you say with a smile, pulling her down the hallway and through the door. 

—

SAM POV

As you push the front door closed you find the house still lively, even for the late hour. 

“Elle?” you call out, listening to hear a reply.

“I’m in here Sammy!” she yells, indicating she’s in the sunroom. 

You set your things by the door and make your way through the house, flipping a few lights off as you go. You step into the sunroom, and see her lounging across the couch flipping through the pages of a magazine. 

“Hey babe!” she says, sitting up from the cushions. “How was your meeting? Everything okay?” she asks.

“Honestly, no. Y/N got fired, and I thought maybe if we all met up we could figure out a plan or something to change their minds. But, the company just wouldn’t budge. She broke her contract. But then, it evolved into something else entirely. Something else way bigger and…” you pause, “I need to talk to you about something.” 

She puts her hand on your leg and looks at you, eyes full of concern. “What Sammy?”

You run your hands through your hair, and swallow nervously trying to find the right combination of words. “Well, Andy is…back.”

“Y/N’s ex, Andy?!” she shrieks.

“Yeah… has been following us around for a few months.” you confess.

“Sam, what?! Does–Does Y/N know? Oh my god?” she panics.

“No! She doesn’t. And you can’t tell her. Jake will be furious. He hasn’t told her.” you beg.

“Sam…This is… a bad idea. She…she is going to be furious. Livid, even.” she says.

“At first, I agreed with Jake. Maybe it was just a random one time coincidence. But then we started seeing him at more and more shows…It stopped being a coincidence. He was in Michigan just a few weeks ago. Followed us here to Nashville too.” you offer.

“What?! How do you know that?” she asks.

“Josh and Danny got into a fight with him a few days ago. Roughed up Danny’s face pretty good. Pulled a fucking knife on him…” you pause. “That’s why Jake doesn’t want her to know. He doesn't want her to live in fear at her every move.”

“Sam. This is not going to play out how you all think it will. She is entitled to know about this. He can’t protect her all the time…” she says sternly.

“I know, I know. Which is why I am telling you. I want you to know. I want you to be safe and aware of your surroundings when I’m not with you. I mean… you were there that night at the bar too. He hurt you too.” you plead.

You can see her mind replaying that night as a tiny crease forms between her brows. You take her hand in yours and kiss her knuckles. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you until now. Josh told us we should tell you both immediately but, we didn’t. I realize that was a mistake and I hope you can understand why I did it. I love you so much Elle, I just…want to protect you, you know?” you ask.

“I’m not happy with you, Sam. I’m sad that you didn’t tell me. I’m more sad that you guys haven't told Y/N, though. She is going to be so upset. I really think she deserves to be aware. If he pulled a knife on Danny, imagine what he would do to Y/N. She needs to be able to protect herself if one of you guys isn’t there, you know? However, I get why you didn’t tell her. It would stress her out so bad… I get it, I do, really. Your intentions were good. It’s just a double edged sword.” she says. 

“Can you forgive me?” you ask. 

“I will. I just need to be mad for a little bit.” she says. You feel your heart drop a bit, but you know she can’t stay mad at you for long, even if she should.

“Promise me that you won’t tell Y/N. Let Jake do it?” you ask.

“I…can’t promise that Sammy. She’s my best friend…” she trails off. 

“Please Elle. I… just need you to promise me.” you plead.

“I will think about it. I just think Jake needs to say something, quickly, because it seems like he’s becoming more empowered the closer he gets to her. God, haven’t you guys ever watched Criminal Minds?!” she says.

You laugh and nod your head, “Yes…Yes and you are right. I will talk to Jake. Kind of…nudge him to tell her. Promise.” you say.

“Thanks baby.” she says, voice dripping with sweetness.

“Okay…We good?” you ask, nervously.

She leans over and presses a kiss to your lips, “We’re good, babe.”

“I’m gonna go take a shower, you staying in here?” you ask.

“Is that an invitation?” she replies.

“Mmm…Always…”

ELLE POV

You flipped the shower handles to extra hot, just how the both of you liked it. Sam’s shower wasn’t the best setup for two people; it was a little bit cramped and on the smaller side, but you always made it work. You stood in front of the mirror, tossing up your long waves on top of your head and wrapping a tie around the messy bun. 

Sam stood behind you in the mirror, already shirtless and eyeing you while you worked your hair. You smirked at him as he caught your eyes, and you watched as he pulled his shorts and underwear off, letting them fall to the floor without ever breaking away from your stare. Suddenly he was pressed against your back, his hands softly searching your body, feeling your curves underneath your oversized t-shirt. 

He reached to the hem of it, pulling it up and over the swell of your breasts, resting the shirt on your chest while he brought his lips to meet your neck. He kissed slowly, sensually, leaving a wet trail from your shoulder to right under your ear. Your arm flew up to tangle in his messy hair, and you pulled on it slightly, something that drove him absolutely insane. 

“Mmm…pull it again, baby.” He murmured into your ear. You obliged. He snaked his hand down in between your breasts, lightly trailing his finger from there to your navel, and then into your panties. His finger slipped between your folds, teasing you with every move he made. His hand was warm on your already yearning core, and you were begging for more of his touch. 

You leaned back into him, feeling his dick hardening against you. He picked at the hem of your t-shirt again, this time pulling it up and over your head. He switched sides, kissing the opposite side of your neck now. 

Fuck, if you weren’t still so upset with him, you could really give him a show right now.

“Sam…” you said, feeling breathless already. 

“Hmmm?” He hummed into your ear. 

“Have we ever had mad sex?” You asked. 

He popped his head back up, detaching his lips. “What?” 

“I’m really still upset with you…I mean, we’re good but, I’m still pissed. I can hardly look at you right now…” you said, seeing where your words would take you. “And it’s really hard because…you’re really fuckin turning me on right now…” 

“You can hardly look at me right now, hmm? That’s interesting.” He breathed, removing his hand from your underwear. “Let’s get in the shower. Wash fast.”

A few minutes later after a boring and quick shower full of no touching at all, but more avoiding each other’s looks, you were towel drying off in the bathroom. 

“Still can’t stand to look at me?” Sam asked. 

You shook your head. “I really am still pissed, Sam.”

“I know it.” He paused. “Still very fucking turned on, too?” 

“Unfortunately.” You admitted. 

You walked out into the bedroom, feeling him following close behind. He walked over to your drawer, and pulled out a soft scarf, one you saved for the warmer months. 

“This will help you not have to look at me, since you can’t stand me right now.” He said pompously. 

“Sam, are you really going to blindfold me?” You said, feeling like the situation could be either silly as all get out, or extremely sexy. 

“No babe. You’re going to blindfold you.” He pulled his hair into a loose bun at his neck, pulling at the sides to loosen it. You knew what that meant. He dangled the scarf in front of your face. “Unless you want me to leave, and you can just take care of yourself…”

You thought for a second. “Mmm, no…I think I want your help…” you took the scarf from his hand, giving him a dissatisfied look of defeat as you walked over to the bed, sat on the edge, and wrapped the scarf around your eyes. 

“Is it tied nice and snug?” He asked. 

You nodded. “Mmhmm.”

“Good. Tie it tighter.” He demanded. Cocky fucker. You huffed, and took the two trailing ends of the scarf and tightened them just a bit more. “There, happy now?”

“Oh I’m happy, but I wanna make you happier…” he said. 

You felt the bed press down beside you as he sat, pushing you slowly backwards onto the bed. He quickly undid the towel that was tucked at your chest, exposing your naked and half-wet body. 

“God baby, your body is just….” He trailed off, clicking his tongue. Suddenly his hands were underneath your armpits, pushing you to the top of the bed. You giggled at the surprise, still unable to see anything at all. You felt his body leaned over yours, his tongue drifting slowly from your neck, to your nipples, to your hips…all the places he knew made you writhe. 

“Please Sam, hurry up…” you breathed as he teased you for what felt like hours. 

“Calm down, love, let me show you I’m sorry…just enjoy…” 

Finally he grabbed your knees, pulling your thighs apart with force, and flipping your legs over his shoulders. His mouth immediately buried into you, wasting no time at all teasing anymore. 

“Shitttttt Sam…” you breathed as he moved his tongue as deeply as he could inside you, before pulling it out again and moving directly to your clit. The surge of pleasure that flooded you was blinding, already feeling so close from being ready for him earlier. 

Suddenly you felt full, as one of his digits entered you as well, slowly pushing in and pulling out as his tongue worked up top. You couldn’t help it, your back arched up, changing the point of contact for his tongue. Your hands met his hair, pulling from his ponytail and loosening the strands. “Mmm babe, I wish I could watch you right now…” you stammered. His free hand massaged the inside of your thigh, his thumb pressing hard into your skin. 

“No peeking…” he growled without disconnecting his mouth. 

After a few more minutes of torture, bringing you to the brink and then pushing you away again, he pulled back, still working his hand painstakingly slow. “Here’s the deal babe, I can add another finger for you, or I can fuck you. Take your pick.”

You lifted your blindfolded face to him, silently wishing you could see his soaked face, messy hair, and snarky expression in the light of the room. 

You breathed a heavy sigh, thrashing your head back down on the bed. “Fuck me Sam. Please.”

“My pleasure, love.” You felt him move to his knees, taking you and flipping you around to your stomach. Ah, your favorite. 

He forcefully yanked you up by your hips, and pressed his hand to the middle of your back, signaling you to arch hard for him; this was his favorite visual. You put your face in the sheets, and walked your knees apart a bit, giving him the perfect angle. “That’s it, baby, right there for me.” 

It was seconds until his mouth was on you again from behind, spurring you on even more. He stayed there for a little bit until he broke away, placing himself between your legs, teasing your entrance. 

“I should’ve blindfolded you, it’s not fair you’re the one in trouble but get to see this whole thing…” you said, turning your head to face him. 

“Hey, you agreed to it. Face back down, or I’ll stop right here.” He rumbled, giving you a fair warning. 

“Erghhhh.” You whined, placing your face back down. His hands were on your hips again, massaging them sensually as you became more and more aroused. 

You felt him begin to tease you again, only allowing himself a couple inches inside before disconnecting and teasing again. You whined again, a pitiful sound that showed him you were begging for him without even using any words. 

Finally he lined up, pushing all the way inside, bottoming out with his hands gripping hard on your hips. The feeling made your mind go numb for a few seconds, feeling him already dusting by your sweet spot with the first thrust. 

“Goddamn baby, you’re so perfect…” he said through a stifled moan as he stilled himself inside you. 

“Show me Sam, show me how perfect I am…” you said. “Please, go.” 

You were fully begging him to pick up the pace now, your body pulling him further inside you on its own accord. He continued his thrusts, seemingly deeper and harder each time. You could tell he was enjoying himself as much as you were, given the dirty sounds filling the room. 

You felt his hand to your back again, pushing it down toward the bed lightly but forcefully, pressing your stomach all the way down. You kept your back arched as best as you could with the new position. Legs sprawled to the sides, he laid his body weight down on your back, the two of you pressed together flat into the mattress. He remained inside of you, but this new position brought his face beside yours, giving him access to kiss the back of your neck, back, and shoulders. 

Instead of thrusting now, he could just grind, moving in tiny circles as your bodies glided together. “Hop up for a sec,” he said, grabbing a pillow to put under your stomach. Fuck yeah. That helped the angle, giving him space to move a little better while still buried deep inside you. 

“You feel so fucking good baby, so warm and wet for me…” Sam said, brushing your hair from covering your face, his voice directly in your ear and sending shivers down your entire body. He bit into your ear lobe, eliciting a hiss from you. You did your best to squeeze him, as you felt yourself getting closer. He snaked his hand underneath you, finding your clit right off the bat, giving it rough but calculated swirls with the tip of his finger. 

“God Sam, yes…” you howled as you felt yourself reaching the peak, the white heat touching your every nerve ending. You arched just a little bit more, pressing your ass into him and grinding your hips with his to give him a little instigation. 

“Yes keep doing that, please…I’m there too baby, fuck…” he said through his teeth as his grinding became more harsh and erratic. 

“Please don’t stop…I…” you breathed, your words falling away. 

Finally, the two of you reached your releases together, the room filling with obscene sounds as you felt him fill you, deep and hot as you rode them out together. 

After you both came down, he let his entire body weight fall on your back, staying sandwiched together with his hand still attached to your heat. 

“Baby, you’re soooo…” he trailed off. “Fuckin perfect. I swear.” 

He removed himself, flipping you back over to face him. He gently lifted the scarf from your eyes, and you blinked a few times to readjust to the light. You met his eyes, full of love and lust and pure adoration. “I love you more than I could ever explain. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you the truth.” He admitted. 

“S’okay, babe. I will move past it. Just don’t ever keep anything like that away from me ever again, okay? I’m dead serious, Sam.” You replied. 

He held up his hand. “I promise. I can’t lose you. Not ever.”

You laid for a minute in silence as he peppered your face with slow kisses. You had to tell Y/N. Tonight. You’d text her when Sam goes to bed. This isn’t fair. 

You’d made up your mind, and you were going to tell her about Andy. You didn’t care for the repercussions from the guys, or from Jake. This had to end here. 

— 

JAKE POV

“I don’t know what you’re not getting Josh, it’s a simple key change.” you spit.

“I’m doing my fucking best, Jacob. Cut me a break, we have been at this for four hours.” he replies. 

You turn back to Daniel, “Again.” you instruct, waiting for him to count in. 

As the sound roars to life, you wince as Josh misses the mark yet again, but this time you keep playing. You shake your head at him, annoyed that he can’t seem to get it right. You finish out the song, and place your guitar in the stand. 

“I’m gonna take a break, I’ll be back. My hand is fucking killing me.” you say, making your way out the door. 

You find yourself outside, leaning against the building holding the flame to the tip of a joint. 

You inhale the earthy flavored smoke, and let it fill your lungs as you watch the cars pass by. A few minutes later Josh is stepping outside to join you. You scoff at him when he holds his hand out for the joint. 

You begrudgingly pass it to him, crossing your arms as you lean back into the brick.

“So you’re pissed at me. Is that it?” he asks, blowing out the smoke.

You turn to look at him, deadpan, “No, what would make you think that…” you reply sarcastically. 

“Cut the shit Jake. You know I wasn’t intentionally keeping shit from you. You’re my goddamn twin for Christ sake. Everything was… fucked up. I didn’t even know what to tell you first. Or even how. I was… trying to figure it out.” he offers.

“Something. Anything…” you reply. 

It’s quiet for a few minutes, the two of you passing the dwindling joint back and forth. 

“I’m sorry, Jake. I know you are in a tough spot with her losing her job. I don’t think any of us really thought it would happen. Then, the whole Andy thing… That dude is a fucking creep Jake. He freaked me out. I… don’t even know what to do.” he confesses. 

“It’s okay…I’m not really mad. Just… disappointed. Like you said, you’re my twin…I trust you more than myself sometimes. If I can’t trust you, what do I have left?” you ask.

He nods his head, “Yeah. No, you’re totally right. I fucked you over. I should have told you first. It won’t happen again. I promise.” he says, eyes full of regret. 

“We’re good.” you say, offering him a tight smile. 

“You sure?” he asks.

“Yeah. She uh… she came back. Last night. Like one in the morning. She agreed to move in with me.” you say nervously. 

“Move in?” he asks, shocked. 

“Yeah, she was freaking out, man. She was saying she was going to move home and shit. There’s no way. I can’t do this without her anymore. I was going to like, officially ask her or whatever in a few weeks after things settled down a bit, but then all this happened and she said that, so I asked her. I panicked. I couldn’t lose her again, you know? Anyways, she left and said she needed space, apparently talked to Sam, and to Elle, then showed up last night, and said okay that she would move in.” you said. 

“She talked to Sam?” he asks.

“Yeah, that's what she said…” you replied.

“Huh, sounds like you owe him a big fucking thank you for whatever he said to her.” he says. 

“Yeah…you know, you’re right.” you answer, opening the door to the studio, and letting him walk in. 

“Where is that lanky fuck?” you laugh, letting the door shut behind you.

—

Pulling into your driveway later that night, you see her car still parked and you can’t help the smile that parts your lips. As you slip into the front door, you hear her in the shower, humming along to a song, playing loudly from the speaker in the bathroom. Your chest tightens when you realize that this is something you’ll get to hear everyday. You’ll get to see her fresh from the shower, wet hair and plain faced and gorgeous. It won’t be a commodity, it will just be your life now. 

You place your keys in the dish, and kick off your boots. You head to the kitchen to grab a beer, and position yourself on your couch, scrolling through the options on the TV. You feel your phone buzz in your pocket, and you pull it out seeing a new message in the group chat.

Sam:

4:47pm: Why don’t we just hire her as an assistant? She would be in direct employment through us. Do whatever we need her to do. Be with us at all times…

Daniel:

4:49pm: Can we do that?

Josh:

4:50pm: Yeah. We absolutely can do that. Fuck why didn’t I think of that.

Sam

4:51pm: That way she is still “working” and doing the job she loves, without the bullshit contracts and still getting to tour with us.

You:

4:52pm: This would be the best case scenario. That way she is also with us… 

Josh

4:53pm: Shit I didn’t think of that either… Yeah. I will call Aaron and talk about logistics. I’ll get back with you. 

Daniel

4:54pm: Good idea Sam

You:

4:55pm: Thank you Sammy

Sam

4:56pm: We can’t do this tour without her. Our outfits would always be fucked!!

Daniel

4:57pm: Lol

“Oh my gosh! Jake! You scared me!” she says, stepping out of the bedroom. You shove your phone back into your pocket and laugh. 

“Sorry my love, I figured it would be more scary to tell you I was home while you were in the shower.” you smile.

“What are you doing?” she asks, sitting down next to you on the couch. 

“I don’t know. I never use this thing…” you say, pointing the remote at the TV. 

She smiles at you as you lift your arm, motioning for her to lean into your side. “Oh, we could order in and watch a movie?” she suggests.

You turn to face her and press a soft kiss to her lips, “Whatever you want, lover.”

—

After a box of pad thai, a movie, and a few episodes of a show you don’t even know the name of, you both find yourself drifting off on the soft leather couch. 

“Baby, let’s go get in bed. We are both falling asleep.” you say.

She forces her eyes open and throws the blanket off the two of you, pulling herself from your side. “I just sleep so good all curled into your side like that. S’my favorite.” she yawns.

“We’re like ten feet from the bedroom and then you can resume the position. Go ahead, I’m right behind you. I’m just gonna lock up.” you say, helping her from the couch. 

She sulks off to the bedroom as you take the leftovers to the kitchen, and lock all the doors. Soon enough you are wrapped in your linen sheets with your girl curled back into your side. You placed your phone on the nightstand and turned off the lamp, letting your eyes close as you wonder how life could get any better than this. 

—

Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz.

Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz.

Your eyes squint open, hearing the incessant buzzing next to your head.  You roll to your side and pick up your phone seeing an unfamiliar caller ID.

“Fuck…” you groan. “Fucking people, leave me alone…”

“Hello?” you ask, answering the call. 

“Hi, this is April with Sonitrol Security. Is this Mr. Kiszka?” they ask.

“Yeah, this is he…” you reply, voice hoarse.

“Mr. Kiszka, we received an alarm signal at your office building. We are calling to confirm whether this is an actual break in or a false alarm.” she states.

“No. None of us are there, it’s not a false alarm.” you say, sitting up in the bed. 

“I will dispatch right away, can you please confirm your four digit passcode and your password?” she asks.

“Oh yeah, it's 3102 and the password is Disraeli.” you answer. 

“Excellent thank you Mr. Kiszka. The authorities are on the way to the premises. It would probably be helpful to meet them there to file paperwork.” she adds.

“Thank you.” you say. 

“Thank you, have a great evening.” she says, ending the call.

Fuck. What the fuck?

You immediately get up, and put on the clothes you kicked to the floor, dialing Josh’s number as you pull your shirt over your head.

“Answer asshole…” you groan.

The calls rings to voicemail, and you curse as you buckle your belt. You try Sam next.

“Hello?” his voice is still half asleep.

“Sam. Wake up. There was a break in at the office.” you state simply.

“Our office?” he asks, confused.

“Yes. They just called me and told me to meet the police down there. Get dressed and meet me there. Please.” you ask.

“Shit. Okay. See you in a minute.” he says, ending the call.

You press the contact for Daniel, making your way to the other side of the bed. You sit at the edge as you hear him answer.

“Jake…” he groans.

“Hey. The security company just called me and said there was a break in at the office. I am going down there right now to meet the cops. Sam is on his way, and Josh didn’t answer.” you say.

“Shit, seriously?” he asks.

“Yes.” you answer.

“Okay, I’ll meet you there.” he says, ending the call.

You shove your phone into your pocket, and shake her shoulder, “Hey…” you whisper.

She turns on her side and her eyes crack open.

“Hey, I have to go to the office. There was a break in. You stay here, go back to sleep. I will be home soon.” you say, pressing a kiss to her forehead. 

“Be careful…Love you…” slips tiredly through her lips.

“I love you, be back soon.” you say, closing the bedroom door.

As you lock the front door behind you, you make your way to the car, seeing the dashboard read 4:50am. Who the fuck breaks into an office?

The roads are empty at this hour, making quick time to the office as you pull into the parking lot.

There are 4 police cars parked out front, along with the office manager's car. Daniel pulls in a few seconds after you, as you are making your way up to the front door. 

“Hello sir, what can I do for you this evening?” the cop says. 

“Hey, uh, my name is Jacob Kiskza. This is my office. I got a call we had a break in and to meet you here.” you reply. 

“Oh, yeah, great. So, looks like there was a break in. Someone took a rock to this side window here, and busted it out. Inside is a pretty big mess. You guys may need to take a look around and try to take inventory on what's missing.” he says.

Fuck. Why didn't it occur to you that they probably stole shit?

Sam walks up seconds later, still half asleep. “We have to go look inside to see what’s gone.” you said, stepping through the front doors. 

The place is a bit of a mess, you can tell that the storage cabinets were gone thorough and things were missing. 

“Has anyone talked to Josh?” you ask, stepping around the piles of cords on the floor. 

“I called him roughly twenty times as I drove over here, he did finally answer.” Sam said.

“Is he coming?” you ask.

“Yeah, he was on his way.” he replied.

“Tech equipment was cleaned out.” Danny says, making his way back over to you. 

“The conference room laptop is gone too.” he adds.

“Fuck man, what loser did this shit…” you scoff. 

“Jake…” Sam says from across the room. 

Your eyes flick over to his, suddenly full of sadness.

You look to where he is standing, right next to the kit. “Oh fuck… don’t….don’t even say it…” you plead, walking quickly to join him. 

“God damnit!” you yell, smacking your hand on the wall. 

“Of every fuckin’ thing in here it had to be that!” you continue.

Your very first SG. The one you learned on. The one you picked out with your dad, what feels like a million years ago. You always knew you should have kept it at home with the others. You put too much trust into this place. Now, she’s gone. 

“Jake I’m sure we’ll find it, I bet–” Sam starts.

“We will never see it again. I guarantee it. It’s fucking gone.” you pause, seeing Josh walk through the door. 

“What the fuck is going on here?” he asks.

“Some piece of shit broke into the office.” Sam says. “His guitar is gone.”

Josh looks over to you, knowing full well, how important that guitar was to you. “The one dad bought?” he asks.

You bite your lips together, “Yeah…” you reply solemnly. You run your hand over your face, cussing through a breath. 

“Can we pull the footage?” Daniel asks, pointing the camera in the corner of the room.

“I think they are already trying. I talked to the office manager a minute ago. Said they would text me the footage.” Josh answered.

“I can’t fucking believe it.” you said, staring at the empty stand. 

“We have to make a list of everything missing so that we can talk to the insurance company. Jake, I know you don’t want to hear it but, we have to keep looking to see what else is gone.” Josh says.

Sam and Danny walk away, continue to take inventory of the collection of rooms, as Josh walks over to meet you. 

“We will find it, Jake. I promise.” he says, placing his hand on your shoulder.

“It was my first one. First one that was really me. Really mine, you know? Thought it was safe here. If I knew I would have kept it at home with the others.” you say. “They are going to pawn it like it’s some cheap piece of nothing. It has no meaning to them. They don’t even know…”

“We will find out who stole it. We will get it back.” Josh promises.

You turn to look at him, and nod as you step away from the scene of the crime.

An hour or so later, you are wrapping up with the police who will be waiting for the footage pulled from the cameras. You all collectively agreed that you will be pressing charges as soon as the person is found, and charge them to the fullest extent. 

It’s close to daylight as you pull out of the lot, the sick feeling in your stomach still present as you head back home. Sure, it’s just a guitar, but, for most of your life it was your number one. Your only one. 

As you step through your front door, the light is just starting to peek over the horizon. You leave your keys in the dish and your shoes by the door, returning to the dark bedroom, with a sigh. 

“Hey babe, is everything okay?” her soft voice drifting towards you.

“Hey baby. No, not really. Someone broke in. Stole a bunch of stuff. Stole my guitar.” you reply.

“Your guitar? Your fancy one?” she asks.

You smile, “No. Not the fancy one. I keep those here. It was actually my first electric. My dad bought it for me when we were kids.” you answer.

“Oh, Jake. I’m sorry. I bet we’ll find it soon.” she says, rolling over to face you. 

You strip your clothes back off, and place your phone on the nightstand, ready to go back to sleep.

“I’m not going to lie. I am pretty upset about it. I’m not sure I will ever see it again. Maybe one day though.” you sigh. 

Your phone buzzes before you even have a chance to get back into bed. 

Josh

5:56am: Attachment - Video

Josh

5:57am: Jake… I think we know who has your guitar. 

As you let the video play your breath hitches in your throat. Surely not? You try your best to zoom in on the footage, trying to make absolutely sure. Suddenly your phone is buzzing in your hand. 

“Hey.” you answer.

“Dude, it’s fucking him. Tell me you see it.” Josh says. 

“Yeah I see it. Was just trying to zoom in and make sure.” you reply.

“No! I know that face anywhere. It’s him. He is fucking insane.” he says. 

“You’re right about that. I will call you later, okay?” you press.

“Later.” he says, ending the call.

You slip into the bed, and turn to face her. “It was who?” she asks. 

You feel your heart stop for a second as you scramble to respond.

“Oh that was Josh.” you answer. 

“No. I know that. He said, ‘it’s fucking him’. I heard it.” she says, sitting up on her elbow. 

“It’s so late. Or early. Whatever. Can we talk about it in the morning?” you ask, hoping she will concede. 

“Who was it Jake?” she asks. 

“Y/N….” you plead.

“You know. You know who it was. Why won’t you tell me?” she asks.

“Because I… I don’t want to freak you out! I…” you stammer. 

“Why would it freak me out Jake?” she pauses, standing up from the bed. “What did he mean it’s him? It’s who? Someone I know? Someone you know I know?” she says, raising her voice.

“Y/N, baby, please. Just calm down. I can explain.”  you say, sitting up and raising your hands to her. 

“It’s fucking Andy, isn’t it. Isn’t it Jake!” she yells, visibly shaking, even in the dim light. 

“Fuck, Y/N. Please. Just… Fuck. Yes. Okay? It was. It was Andy. He threw a rock through our window and stole a bunch of shit.” you answer. 

“How does he know where your office is, Jake?” she yells.

“I don’t know. I… don’t know. He has been around.” you confess.

“Around?! Around where!?” she says, backing herself into the wall.

You rub your hands across your face, shaking your head. What the fuck do I do?

“Well, the first time….Austin. Then, in LA, then–” she cuts you off. 

“I’m sorry, Austin?! As in Texas? Where we were in fucking October, Jake?!” she screams.

“Baby, I thought it was a fluke. We all did, we thought he was just in the crowd by coincidence or something…” you plead.

“We all?” she stops you.

You release a sigh knowing you just opened a whole other can of worms. “Yes…We all saw him that night. We didn’t say anything because we didn’t want to scare you.” 

“Jake are you fucking kidding me?! You all knew!?” she replies.

“I wanted to tell you… I–I just was more worried about keeping you safe. Keeping you away from him. Who knows when this even really started. After Austin we just started actually seeing him, and actively checking for him.”

“Jake this is….” she says waving her hand in the air. “This is why all the extra security, and the rushing back to hotels, and the never letting me go anywhere alone…. Suddenly it’s all making sense… this has been happening for months, right under my own nose. You lied to me!” she yells. 

“I didn’t lie, Y/N. I just didn’t tell you that we saw him.” you reply.

“That’s the same fucking thing as lying to me! Where else did you see him Jake...” she asks.

You sighed, completely conceding to her questions now. “We saw him again in LA. Then, at Thanksgiving, you thought you saw him. I knew it had to be him. Then that weird shit at Christmas….and the texts…” you said shaking your head. “He got into it with Danny and Josh the other day in a fucking alley. He threatened them! How was I supposed to tell you that without freaking you out!?” you ask.

“You’ve known for months, and you just weren’t going to tell me? Those weird unknown number texts? Those were him? Oh my god, he’s stalking me isn’t he? That day I swore it was him at the shops… You let me think I was crazy Jake! After I told you everything? How could you?!” she asks, cries busting forward from her chest. 

“I… I don’t know why I didn’t tell you. I was just trying to protect you!” you yell. You quickly regain your composure, knowing full well that she was already scared. 

“After your nightmare in LA, I was…torn up. I just wanted to keep you safe from him. Imagine if I would have told you then, that we’d seen him…you would’ve been so terrified at every turn… We didn’t even know the extent of his stalking yet. I just… felt like it was better if you didn’t know. Which is stupid, and wrong and I am so fucking sorry, I just didn’t know what else to do. I thought we could handle it without getting you involved.” you beg. “We went about it all the wrong ways, and I know that now, and I feel so stupid, I’m so sorry Y/N. We shouldn’t have kept that from you. It wasn’t our place.” 

“No, you absolutely should not have kept that from me. Jake this is so beyond messed up. You lied to me. Deceived me. How can I ever trust you again?” she says, grabbing her things and shoving them into a bag. 

“Baby, no. What are you doing?” you say, rushing to her side. 

“I can’t stay here. I won’t. I won’t stay with someone who lies to me. Someone I can’t trust. You said you loved me. This isn’t love Jake. This is control… and deceit!” she snaps. “I can’t even look at you, I'm so mad.”

“Y/N, please. Don’t go. Just stay. Talk to me. We can figure this out.” you beg, reaching for her hand. 

“No. Don’t touch me! There’s nothing to figure out. You’re a liar! What else have you lied to me about, huh!” she yells, ripping her hand from yours. “All of you…lied to me for months! And Sam?! He knew too? And didn’t tell me…” she trailed off, her actions in a frenzy. “How can I trust any of you?! Does Elle even know? Because he fucking put his hands on her too, if you even remember. God this is so fucked up.” 

She grabs her purse, digging out her car keys and finding the key you gave her yesterday. She fumbles with it, unlooping it from the keyring and tossing it across the room. “Keep it. I don’t want it!” she yells as the key bounces off the floor, clanking around until it finds its place in the corner. 

You shudder at the sound. “Y/N, please, just sit for a second. He broke into our office, who knows where he even is now? He could be out there waiting for you!” you say.

“I can handle myself!” She screamed. “I’m not a child, Jacob!”

“He pulled a fucking knife on Danny, Y/N, okay? He’s dangerous! He isn’t fucking around!” You tried not to yell, but you needed to drive that part home. 

“You don’t think I know he’s dangerous, Jake? Were you the one that had to hide bruises on your arms for months? Got your head bashed into a wall at a crowded bar? Hm? Hid yourself in a bathroom while he tried to break the door down? Not to mention all of the hundreds of other stories I haven’t even told you about because it makes me sick to my fucking stomach to even think about them?! There’s more, Jake. There’s so much more.” She shifted her weight, shaking her head. 

“I’ve taught myself how to be on the lookout. I know what it feels like if he’s in my presence. I walk with my keychain in my hand constantly in case I ever have to use my self defense weapon. I’m not stupid, Jake.” She shoved the last of her things into her bag. 

“I understand, baby. I’m so sorry…please just don’t make any irrational decisions right now.” You begged. 

“Irrational? Irrational!? How am I supposed to act Jacob? You just told me that my highly abusive ex is stalking me, and has been for months. Not only that but he is threatening you, my friends, me… and everyone knows except for me? You think that’s okay?!” she screams. 

“No! I don’t think it’s okay, but I didn’t see another way!” you yell. 

She throws her bag over her shoulder, wiping the tears from her eyes, as she reaches around her neck to unclasp her necklace. 

No... 

“No. Y/N. Please, don’t do this. Please…” you beg, watching her slide the pendant from her neck and tossing it onto the bed.

Your eyes well with tears, as you watch hers fall. “Jake…I don’t know what to say. I never thought you’d hurt me like this. You were the one person…I thought I could trust…” she trails off. 

You rush over to her, grabbing her face in your hands. She turns her face away from you, her cheeks wet from tears. “I am so sorry. Please…please don’t go. I promise you can trust me. I love you. I love you more than anything. We will figure this out. I…I’ll do whatever it takes…” you wrap her in your arms, a one last ditch attempt to physically hold her to you. 

She pulls out of your arms, “Let me go. I have to go.”

She hurries out of the front door, only the chime ringing through the house letting you know she was ever really there. 

You collapse onto the floor, unable to hold your own weight up. You clutched the tiny daisy necklace in your hand, knowing you really lost her this time. 

—

How many times is she going to leave before she’s gone for good? 

You sat collapsed on the floor, sitting with your head in your hands and your elbows on your knees for what felt like hours, running over the past five months over and over in your head. You should have told her. You should have given her warning. Josh was right. 

But you didn’t, and it backfired in a way that you weren’t sure you were going to be able to clean up. How could you apologize your way out of this one? Was it even possible? It felt like all of the blood had drained from your body, and you sat lifeless on the rug of your bedroom floor, letting yourself feel the guilt completely. 

Suddenly your phone buzzed on your nightstand, a single text notification that woke you from your self-pity. You drug yourself up from the floor, reaching for your phone and hoping it was her. 

Sam. 

You swiped the text open, finding a fairly long message from him. 

Sam

7:21am: Y/N just called Elle…sounded pretty bad. I told Elle about Andy yesterday, I’m guessing she sat on it for a day and didn’t tell Y/N, either. I know you guys got into it pretty badly, and she left. Just go chase her, Jake. Gotta make it right. 

Comprehending his text was proving to be difficult. It was blurry through your tired, glassy eyes, and you were so exhausted it felt like you’d been hit by a truck. But he was right, you had to make this right. Everything was your fault, and you hated yourself for fucking things up, again. It was now or never. Losing her for good might kill you. 

You stood up, putting your clothes back on and wiping your eyes free from the wetness that had collected in them. You hadn’t really cried, just let yourself feel way too many feelings at once. You ran to the front door and put your shoes back on quickly, grabbed your keys from the dish, and sprinted down the walk to your car. 

You felt like you couldn’t get to her fast enough, like something was pulling you toward her again. Something intense. You dashed through the morning commute traffic, whipping in and out of lanes and backstreets on the quickest route to her. 

She’s not getting away again. Not ever. 

——

HER POV

You slammed the door to Jake’s house a little harder than intended, but you couldn’t care less. You made a dizzy mad dash to your car, hitting the unlock button on your keys way before you even got there. The tears were falling hard, and you felt absolutely obliteratingly sad. When you finally made it to the driver’s seat, you locked the doors behind you, stuck the key in the ignition, and started the car. One last look to Jake’s door gave you nothing but a worse feeling; you half expected him to be running after you. 

You pulled off down the street like a bat out of hell, trying to make it to the safety of your apartment as quickly as you could. Everything is falling apart. 

Your phone was still lodged somewhere in your purse, so you blindly dug through all of the other items you’d thrown in there before you left Jake’s house. After you finally grabbed it, you opened the lock screen, being met with a photo of you and Jake huddled together on the couch, smiling cheek to cheek, a selfie you’d soon be deleting. 

You’d gotten a text from Elle late last night, but you were already asleep. ‘Call me’ was all it read. You hit the phone symbol on her contact, listening as the tone rang and rang, with no answer on the other end. 

Shit. 

You needed her. You needed to tell her. She deserved to know that Andy was back. Or, did she already know?

You sped through traffic and finally pulled into your apartment parking lot. You pulled into your spot, turning the car off and sitting there, unable to pull yourself out. The comforting feeling of your vehicle was always something that made you feel safe; a little home away from home where you could let all of your emotions fly, and no one would ever see. 

What is happening? Why is this all happening? Your best friends in the world whom you’ve loved and trusted your whole life…not even having the decency to tell you your stalker was back with a vengeance. The love of your life didn’t even bother to inform you…well, not love of your life anymore, you don’t suppose. 

After another good and hearty cry, you pulled yourself from the driver’s seat and grabbed your purse. You’d get the rest later. You just wanted to lock yourself in your bedroom, turn your phone off and shut the world out. And that’s exactly what you were going to do. 

Before you could leave the lot, Elle was calling you back. 

“Hello?” You answered, voice scratchy from crying. 

“Hey, hun. You okay? Sorry I missed you earlier...” she said. 

You sat back down in your car. 

“No, not really Elle. Andy is back. He has been back for months. He’s following me again. And get this, all the guys knew it, and none of them told me. Apparently he’s been coming to shows since September, sneaking around in the crowd and everything. Did Sam tell you about the break in last night? And Jake’s guitar getting stolen?” you pause. 

“Well it was fucking Andy who did it. Ugh I don’t know Elle, I’m so mad and feel so betrayed, I left Jake’s. I’m back at my apartment now.” You went on, your words spewing out. “I’m honestly not sure if I’m going to go back, Elle.” You sighed.

“Did you know? Did they leave you in the dark, too?” You asked, hoping to hear that she hadn’t been hiding it from you too. 

“Sam told me yesterday, and that’s why I texted you last night. I was going to tell you. They hadn’t told me either, Y/N. Probably because they knew I wouldn’t keep their secret.” She said quietly. 

“Fuck. I can’t believe I missed your text, I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do, Elle. I’m so infuriated.” You confessed. 

“You have every single right to be mad at him, Y/N. Mad at all of them. Without a doubt. That was not a good decision on their part. I completely agree with you.” She said. 

“Okay, so I’m not crazy for blowing up?” You asked. 

“No, you’re not crazy this time.” She giggled. “But no, I’m actually pretty fucking mad at Sam, too. This should not have been something they kept from us. Not in the least.” She said through a sigh. 

“You’re right.”

“Go inside, hun. Take a bath, cool off a bit, I’ll call you later.” Elle said, her voice laced with comfort. 

“Okay. I will.” You said. 

“Oh, Y/N? You know Jake didn’t mean to hurt you, right? He would never intentionally hurt you. None of them would. He had good intentions, hiding this from you…though he went about it the wrong way. He was just trying to protect you like he always has. Don’t shut him out, okay?” She lamented. 

You sighed. “I’ll try, Elle. Love you.” And you hung up the phone. 

Again, you grabbed your purse and locked your car door, and headed down the short sidewalk to your apartment door. Your stomach suddenly began doing flip flops, you felt lightheaded and dreadful, blaming it on the severity of the situation hitting you all at once. You reached the porch, and fumbled with the keys, dropping them on the wooden porch with a clank. 

“Shit.” You mumbled, reaching down to retrieve them. Before you could grasp them, they were kicked across the porch underneath you, your only means of self-defense sliding across the wood into the corner. When you stood, you were met with a familiar face, one you could live a million lifetimes not ever seeing again. 

“Hey there, gorgeous. Happy to see me?” The tall, blonde haired, light-eyed man you’d once loved, now standing on your front porch, eyeing you like a piece of meat he wanted to devour. 

“Andy, what the fuck are you doing here. Get the hell off of my porch right now.” You seethed, suddenly feeling helpless and defensive at the same time. 

“Oh now, I thought you’d be excited to see me? It’s been so long, you know. Thought we could catch up…” he said, slowly taking steps toward you. 

You felt a lump growing in your throat. “No, it hasn’t been long.” You swallowed, trying to stay strong. “I know you’ve been back. I know you’ve been following me all over the country.”

“Hmmm…your rockstar boyfriend and his compadres finally tell you their little secret? Damn, I didn’t think it’d take them this long…” 

“Andy, I told you to get off my property, please. I’m going inside. I need you to leave.” You said, your breathing becoming more rapid the closer he got to you. 

“But I just got here, baby. Can’t we just talk a little bit?” He said, flitting his eyelashes to you. This was absolutely not the same man you fell in love with all those years ago. He had changed, exponentially. 

“No, I don’t want to talk to you. Please leave, or I’m calling the police.” You warned. 

“Hah, the police? You think I’m scared of the cops?” He scoffed. 

“You should be, I know they’re out searching for you right now…we know it was you that broke into the office and stole all their stuff….you should’ve stolen the security cameras, too, if you wanted to stay hidden.” You spat. “I thought you were a little smarter than that, Andy.” 

For a split second, you thought you saw him flinch, a minute expression of second-guessing himself…perhaps feeling a little bit of fear? You capitalized on it. 

“Actually, after the cops identified you, we told them you’d been stalking me for months, told them the severity of it…they agreed to drive by multiple times a day to do wellness checks on me here, especially today when they know you’re in town.” You pressed. 

His eyes began zipping back and forth in thought, he licked his lips continually and he ran his hand through his hair. Who even is this man?

“Let me go the fuck inside my house, Andy!” You yelled. 

Suddenly he had his body pressed up against you, your wrist clenched in his hand, and the sharp blade of a knife pressed against your neck. 

“Shut the fuck! Up! Y/N! Do you ever stop fucking talking?!” he screamed.

You could feel the cold metal on your jugular as you swallowed, trying to contain yourself as you stepped back, catching your breath in pure terror. 

“You’re going to listen to me now, do you understand? Everything I tell you to do, you’re going to do without argument. Or else this knife will be put to use.” he threatened. 

You consented, nodding slowly with the blade still to your throat. You shouldn’t have pushed him. He walked you to the edge of the porch, and instructed you to pick up your keys, and find the correct one to open your door. 

“Don’t even think about it…” he growled in your ear as he noticed your self defense keychain hanging from the ring. 

You winced, seeing it so close but unable to use it. You prayed someone would walk by and see you, but your apartment door was hidden well, in a concave part of the building tucked away from sight. 

You nervously found the key, and he walked you back to the front door. Your hands shook as you slipped it into the lock, turning it to release. 

“No fucking funny business.” He said as you entered the large studio style room, dropping your keys and purse on the table by the door. Your heart was racing a million miles a minute, and your brain was wild trying to think on your toes at every TV show you’d ever watched, every bit of self defense you’d ever learned, and trying your best to stay calm while outsmarting him. 

When you got inside, he turned and closed the door behind him, walking you over to your small dining table. “Sit.” He demanded.

You did as he asked, placing yourself gently in a chair, eyes scanning the table for anything you could find in case you needed it. Immediately, he pulled a small zip tie from his pocket and tied your hands together in your lap. Nothing new here, unfortunately. 

“Why are you here, Andy? What do you want from me?” You asked. 

He pulled the opposite chair close to you, taking a seat and facing you. “Mmm, don’t you remember all the good times we had, baby? Back at college, spending all that time together?” 

He pressed, taking the knife away from your throat, and tracing it down your cheek. “Don’t you want to be that way again? Just you and me, like old times…”

“We were really crazy about each other, weren't we Y/N? Had such great times together…made beautiful love…” the knife continued to trace your features slowly, gently pressing into your skin every few seconds. 

“We were, Andy. But that was years ago. And I don’t know if it would be considered making love, all those times you forced me…and all the other awful things you did to me. I didn’t forget.” You said bravely. 

“You don’t think I loved you, Y/N? Of course I did…everything I did I did out of love, don’t you understand that? My temper sometimes just…got in the way. But you always forgave me, didn’t you baby? Always came crawling back to me…you couldn’t resist…” he spattered. 

The closer he got to your face, the more you could tell that he’d been drinking. Of course. His actions didn’t mirror it, strangely enough, but you could smell it on his breath. 

“Don’t you miss the love we made, Y/N?” He asked, trailing the knife down your arm, onto your side and finally up and down your bare legs. You felt your heart rate spike at the strange contact, the blade gently scaling the sensitive parts of your legs. 

“There’s no way he gives it to you better than I did…no way he can fuck you better…don’t you remember, Y/N? Tell me…tell me I was the best…” the blade of the knife turned suddenly, piercing a deep slit in your thigh. 

You winced at the pain, blood immediately dropped down the side of your leg. “Fuck Andy! What the hell is wrong with you?! Get the hell away from me!”

You began to scream, too stunned to move your arms, or push him away at all. Your vision began to go blurry with nerves and fear, you felt your body begin to try and protect itself, fight or flight coming into play. This feeling was one you had felt a hundred times before with him, every bone in your body preparing itself for whatever physical or mental infliction he was about to drop on you. 

“Tell me I was the best for you! Tell me I’m better than he is! Tell me, Y/N!” He yelled in your face, spit escaping his mouth. 

“You weren’t, Andy! You never were. He was always the best, a million times better to me than you could ever think about being!” You yelled, but fairly calmly, deciding to not match his insane energy. 

He stood towering over you, pushing down hard on your shoulders and pinning you to the chair against the wall. “Don’t you fucking move Y/N or I swear to god you won’t leave this apartment!” He yelled, his liquor soaked breath spitting in your face. 

“I’m not fucking scared of you Andy! Not anymore!” You yelled back, using all of your body weight to counteract him, standing and shoving yourself into him. You brought your knee directly to his groin fast and hard, momentarily stunning him into pain. He fell to one knee, grabbing himself and choking. You used that opportunity to try and get away, but he’d fallen right between you and the table and a mess of chairs, so stepping over him was your only option. 

So you took it, leaping high over him as best you could with your hands still tied. He grabbed your leg while you were in mid air, pulling you down and into the table, your face hitting the edge of it as you fell. You put your hands to the floor to brace yourself for the fall, but his pull was too fast, and you hit your head hard on the floor. 

“You bitch!” He screamed, as he crawled over top of you on the floor, pinning you down again. You couldn’t move, all his body weight was holding you down. You felt blood dripping from your nose and down the side of your cheek, and you finally gave in and looked up at him as he held you down. He was crushing your chest and your lungs, making it hard to breathe. 

Your vision was blurring again, your breaths low and shallow as he crushed you. You fought with everything you had in you. He reached over, finding his knife that had fallen to the floor. The last thing you saw before you closed your eyes was the glint of the silver blade flashing off the twinkle lights hanging in your kitchen. 

They look like…stars… 

Your brain began to go fuzzy, the lack of oxygen taking effect.  You winced, preparing yourself for pain. 

Suddenly, you heard your front door swing open, the knob hitting into the wall with force. “Hey, get the fuck off of her!” 

Jake. 

It stunned Andy, temporarily taking his attention away from you. Suddenly Andy’s weight was off of you, and your lungs were able to fill with air again. You inhaled sharply, choking and catching your breath as your vision returned. All you heard was a loud crash as you watched Jake tackle Andy across the room, their bodies flying into the wall in a mess of flailing limbs. 

Deja vu. Somehow, after a few seconds of fighting, Andy rolled in the same manner that he had just had you in, sitting on top of Jake as he pinned him in the corner of the wall and floor, Jake fighting and screaming beneath him. 

“Well, well, well…if it isn’t little Jakey here to rescue his lady. You here to get your ass kicked in front of your girlfriend again, Jake?” Andy seethed as he hit Jake with an open palm across the face. 

You watched as Andy took his blade again, this time holding it against Jake’s throat, his other hand across his neck, fingers digging in and squeezing. Jake’s legs squirmed and kicked below him as you listened to him fight for air. His hands were pounding into Andy’s sides and face, his legs flailing and hitting into the floor, but to no avail. Andy had him pinned. 

You were stunned, planted in one spot unable to move. All the fear and panic that Andy had driven into you for so many years crashing back down onto you. You’d been his puppet, dangling from his strings for years on end, the way he lived in the very back crevices of your brain, making you fear for your life at every turn. 

You finally made it to your feet, stumbling in pain from your harsh fall. Your eyes met Jake’s as he silently pleaded with you. His face had gone bloodshot, the life falling from his eyes as his movements began to slow, and his eyes began to close. Finally, his limbs steadied, his body falling still. 

No. 

Not fucking today, Andy. 

You grabbed at the chair that had fallen to the floor, your hands still tied tightly at the wrists. The back of the heavy wooden chair was sturdy, thankfully, and you took it in your grasp as best you could. In a fit of rage and adrenaline, you lifted it high behind you, and forcefully pulled it down onto Andy’s back and head with all of the strength you had left in your body. 

It knocked Andy sideways off of Jake as he screamed out in pained surprise. He turned to face you, but you were already ready, the chair lifted high above you again. You crashed the chair onto him again, pushing him from his knees to his stomach. This time, you made sure it would hurt. 

Jake coughed and gasped beside you, air filling his lungs again as he gripped his throat. Andy was knocked out. You dropped the chair and you fell to your knees next to Jake, trying your best to see if he was okay, with your hands still tied. 

“Baby, baby talk to me. Jake! Are you okay!?” You patted his body and face as he came back to. “Jacob, talk to me! I’m right here…” 

He looked at you with his eyes wide, quickly nodding as he sat up and took you in his arms. “I’m okay, I’m okay baby.” He stammered, his voice still shaky and his breathing labored. As the two of you regained composure and let your heart rates settle a bit, you both looked to Andy, passed out on the floor of your kitchen. 

Jake slowly stood up, walked over to him carefully, and grabbed the knife from the floor beside him, still bloody from cutting your thigh. He walked over to you then, grabbing your hands and pulling you to your feet. He took the blade between your wrists, cutting the zip tie and freeing your hands. 

“Thank you.” You whispered. “Let’s get out of here, he won’t stay unconscious for long. We’ve got to call the police.” 

The two of you walked outside to the porch, and were met with tons of flashing blue lights and sirens. Three cars had responded, all of the officers were jumping out to run to your door. 

“How did they know?” You asked Jake. 

“When I got here, I heard you screaming inside. I dialed 911, told them your address quickly, and left my phone in my pocket. They must’ve heard the whole thing.” He stammered out. You glanced to his neck, already turning purple from Andy’s hand. 

The officers approached you, asking a thousand questions in a blurry 15 seconds. You and Jake told them the gist of the story as best you could, and two officers went inside your home while the other stood with you. 

“An ambulance is on its way, both of you need to get checked out, ok? Don’t take this lightly, it seems you were both deprived of oxygen for enough time to make it count.” He said. You both nodded, agreeing that it probably wasn’t a bad idea. 

“I saw you earlier this morning, right? At the office with the burglary?” He asked Jake. 

“Yes sir, the guy inside is the one we identified as the one who stole everything.”

“Hmph. Well, I hate that these were the circumstances, but your office is pressing hard charges. We’ve got him, now. You won’t see him for a very long time.” He went on, and you felt immediate relief at his words. 

“Oh, and ma’am?” You looked at him, “Good job apprehending the intruder. You did half our job for us.” You nodded as you looked back to Jake, a tiny smile forming on his lips. 

“Sir?” Jake said, gesturing to Andy’s knife on the banister. 

The officer nodded. “I’ll get an evidence bag.” 

The two of you sat down on the porch steps, hand in hand and head to head as you listened to the ambulance sirens approaching. The sun was beating down on your faces, and suddenly everything that had happened to you in the past week was minuscule in contrast to what happened today. Though you still felt some sort of resentment toward Jake, and you still didn’t know how to process it or what was going to happen with you, it paled in comparison to what could have happened today. 

He took your hand in his, fingers intermingling as he brushed his thumb on your skin. 

“You saved my fuckin life, Y/N.” He whispered, kissing the side of your head, holding his lips there for as long as he could before pulling away. 

Your heart fluttered as you took a deep breath, pulling yourself closer into him, “No I didn’t, you were just gonna pass out.” You laughed. 

“No, I think you really did, baby.” He said quietly. 

For a while, neither of you said much, just basked in the comfort of being there, present and alive, with each other. But you couldn't help the nagging feeling at the back of your mind. Turning to face him, you let your eyes meet his.

“Jake, I think we need to talk…”

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Chapter 18

@gretavansara@jordie-gvf-admin@starshine-wagner @eyelinerjake@gretavanfvckface@gretavanmoon@misshunnybeebee@fretaganvleet@gvfpal@joshkiszkas@ascendingtostardust@raviolilegs@sammysprincess@gvfpal@objectsinspvce@lallisonl@gvfpal@raviolilegs@jaketlover@ascendingtostardust @indigostreakmorgan@jakemarrymeibeg@fakeplastiqtree@radmads-gvf @fwzco @katelynn-gvf @writingcold @jakesgrapejuice @jakekiszkasbabymama @emsfallingsky @gretavanbear @ejoygvf @beebloopbleep @mackalah @weneedsomehealing123 @reesetrippingthelight @lightmylove-gvf @wetkleenex-gvf@fulltimecynical@ageofbajabule@ageofsinners@indigostreakslut @profitofthedune @katelynn-gvf @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @joshskittytickler21 @mp0801@starcatcherry @samsbirks @darianh07 @cassiesgreta @becinabubblegvf @hanntisocial @demonrat444

[real-jane]

you don't say

[bucky barnes x disabled!reader]

summary: you matched on a dating app, but you didn't tell him that you use a cane. bucky's response is not what you expected. it's better.

warnings: mention of smut, but mostly fluff and insecurity on both bucky and reader's part. autumnal vibes all around.

a/n: i became disabled in the last few years and i have really struggled with needing a cane to increase my mobility, especially where dating is concerned. i wrote this as a love letter to myself, and other babes who are processing what it means to accept love as a disabled human being. enjoy. <3

***

You didn’t tell him. 

If the last six were a good litmus, it was for the best. Apparently being that honest with a man you met on a dating app was to be avoided at all costs. The goal, ultimately, was to have him say: “You’re prettier in person,” and then flush like he was comparing the version of you in his head to the reality before him, and coming up wanting.

Bucky was his name. He hadn’t proposed anything rigorous–he liked coffee, as did you. It wasn’t like he suggested a Central Park marathon for your date.  You weren’t even sure how you matched; it probably happened when you left your phone unattended in the same room as Natasha–whose taste was much more varied than yours. Adventurous. It’s not that you wouldn’t have swiped in interest over Bucky, 39, Brooklyn. But not until he swiped first. 

That wasn’t entirely true. You remembered his face popping up as you doom-scrolled for Jesus, on a two day pajama pity-party bender. Consuming Norah Ephron films and cheap cabernet, you swiped right on any man with kind eyes who didn’t have a fish picture in his array. Which… the pickings were slim. But his face–Bucky’s–appeared beneath your thumb as Meg Ryan met Tom Hanks at the top of the Empire State Building on your third watch-through of ‘Sleepless in Seattle,’ and it felt serendipitous. Bucky, 39, Brooklyn looked very serious, and he had a white long-haired cat. You swiped. He swiped. He was nice in his first message…

Hi… I’m new to this, but it looks like we both hit the magic button.

So, there you were.

You arranged to meet at eleven–you were at the coffee shop by ten-thirty, so you could sit by the window and not have to walk towards him. You tucked yourself into the booth and stashed your things on the bench seat beside you, eager to meet the first guy who said yes to a date since you got back on the horse, so to speak. Nevermind that you hadn’t told him the whole truth.

When he walked in–ten minutes early–he scanned the little cafe until his eyes fell on you. His expression went from hardened and serious to… bashful, almost. He recognized you right away, and there was no way you could mistake him either. 

What was that thing about people being prettier in person? 

He was dressed in layers to combat Autumn in New York (comfortable in varying shades of blue and brown) with leather gloves on, which shone like they hadn’t yet been worn before that day. So like a native New Yorker to wear the same tattered coat… but quality, definitely an expensive peacoat which could last him several generations… but buy brand new gloves when the slightest chill sets in.

Bucky was scruffy, like he couldn’t quite bother to shave but every few days. You didn’t mind. When he approached, he had vibrant energy, like it was all packed up inside with nerves.

“Hi. Sorry. I think we had the same idea,” he said breathlessly as he approached. He held out his right hand to you. You grasped his fingers automatically, but he didn’t shake. He squeezed softly, and then pressed it between his own. 

“It’s Bucky. I’ve already had coffee. Too much. I was nervous. But if you still want some, I’ll just get decaf.” 

“Y/n. To be honest, I did the same,” you chuckled, nodding to the half-empty carafe on the table, which your waiter had left after the third refill in twenty minutes. “It’s nice to meet in person.”

“I don’t do this kinda thing, I gotta warn you.” Bucky shucked off his coat and slid into the booth across from you. The gloves remained. He had a loved but noble corduroy blazer on, over a henley. “Dating. I hate the whole conceit.”

“You’re two-for-two!” You grinned. “My roommate got me on the apps. They can be blamed for seventy-five percent of my daily dread.”

“What’s the other quarter?”

“Global warming, and getting shat on by pigeons coming out of the subway.”

“Fair,” he said, smiling. You dimpled at one another. “We don’t have to stay. We’re caffeinated, and I might start levitating, here. We could walk a bit?”

Your stomach lurched. “We could. Where?”

“Dunno. I’m sorry–I have no idea how to be out. We should just sit here for the requisite number of minutes before upsetting the structure of a date.” He smiled at you pleasantly, but it was clear how incredibly nervous he still was… and how unlikely it was to go away unless he could be more active. Which meant standing. Walking, some. Something which you were not prepared to do.

Bucky watched your expression shift. He sat forward and reached out to touch your forearm. “You okay?”

“So. Yes, um. Yes, I’m okay,” you sighed. “It’s still new for me so I’m figuring it out, but… walking long distances? Can’t do it. I could probably handle a short walk, but I’ve had a rough time the last week, so I don’t know how much stamina I have. Even with my trusted friend, here. So.” You showed the head of your cane above the table bashfully, and looked away. “Sorry–people get weird about this stuff, I’m finding out, so I don’t really say anything in advance.”

Bucky blinked for a moment, then he leaned forward, resting both elbows on the table. “What do you mean weird?” His blue eyes narrowed.

“Suddenly unmatch. Tell me ‘it’s such a shame.’” You huffed. “Although it’s guys, on the whole. Women care less. But that’s beside the point–”

“Because of that?” He pointed at the seat beside you, where all of your belongings were stashed, and you knew what he meant. You nodded.

“I don’t say it in so many words. I’m not like–hey, just fyi, I use a cane, so deal with it or fuck off–”

“Why not? That would be a good way to separate out the weak and worthless,” Bucky said, but you could’ve sworn you heard a little touch of anger in his tone. He shook his head. “Doll… shit. Men are shit.”

“Yeah. They are. Sorry.”

“No, I’m shit, too. You can’t insult me when it’s true.” Bucky sat back against the worn cushion. “So, we going? Or are you going to talk me into an espresso to see if I can fly?”

“Sure. If you want to. I’m just slow–”

“Nonsense.” Bucky scooted out of the booth. “I grew up in this neighborhood. There’s plenty to do. And see.” He paused. “If this is insulting, just tell me to fuck off… You can lean on me.” He held out his elbow like an offering.

You could have cried. “Um. Okay.”

“Yeah? I–I would’ve offered, regardless. I like talking to you. I’ve enjoyed myself… through the phone.” Bucky scratched his cheek in embarrassment. “So. Even if you didn’t share, I probably would’ve tried to find a reason.”

“Really, I’ve just given you an excuse,” you said, tamping down a smile. He nodded solemnly.

“It’s thoughtful of you to spare me.” Bucky raised his eyebrows, waiting. The waiter breezed by, just then–

“You can pay at the front register!” the beleaguered hipster sighed, gesturing to the counter at which there was an extensive line. Bucky grabbed his elbow and fished a bill out of his pocket, slapping it in the guy’s palm. The waiter stared down at the twenty in his hand. “Great. I’m a human cash register.”

“Keep the change,” Bucky said. He turned back to you. “Do you get motion sick?”

“No?” You were clearly holding up whatever grand plans he was making in his head, so you hastily grabbed your things. Bucky liberated your coat from your hands and held it open. You stood slowly, leaning on the aid which had given you newfound freedom. Bucky smiled at you softly. He wasn’t impatient, just… excited. You slid your arms into your coat with Bucky’s help, and then curled your fingers into his elbow. His cheeks reddened. He had a boyishness to him which was endearing. 

“This okay?”

Okay? Well. If you considered the wafting warmth of sandalwood cologne and the soft weave of his woolen peacoat okay, then you were dandy. You nodded, feeling your own cheeks flush under his attentive gaze.

“Great. I have an idea, if you’re game. So.” He cleared his throat, ushering you through the front door of the shop onto the sidewalk. “Where do you stand on surprises?”

“Um. Hate ‘em, to be honest.”

“How bad?”

“Flash mob? My idea of hell.”

“K–In that case, I’m gonna call a friend, he runs a ride service. There’s a festival in bridge park–I keep seeing fliers for it all over. We could check it out.”

You couldn’t help the smile which pulled at your cheeks. If that’s the sort of surprise Bucky had in mind, you would’ve been charmed by it. But knowing how quickly his brain was working to improvise a date was impressive, so you squeezed his elbow. 

“Sounds fun.”

“Good. Okay.” His mouth turned up at the corner and his eyes crinkled. 

He quickly dialed a number he had memorized, but not saved in his contacts. It made you wonder how many other people he knew by heart, and what it took to be remembered by this Brooklyn boy. He didn’t say much into the phone, just the intersection you stood on. Bucky hung up abruptly and pocketed his phone again, clearly intent on hiding it away.

“He’s two streets over, it’ll be five minutes max.”

He was a horse-and-buggy driver, who had festooned his buggy with bales of hay and pumpkins bearing hastily Sharpie’d faces drawn on them by someone under the age of ten. When the carriage pulled up outside of the chain coffee shop, Bucky grinned, passing the coachman a tenner and ushering you into the four-wheeled hayride. The straw was strewn over the plush seating poorly enough to poke you in the ass, even through your coat, but Bucky was so excited to pull the plaid wool blanket over your legs that you tolerated the gluteal acupuncture. He stashed your cane beside himself, and pressed you close enough that your thigh pressed against his. 

“I went to school with Pat,” he explained, gesturing to the driver who was too far away to engage in conversation, but kept throwing back knowing glances at you and Bucky. “Kindergarten through the twelfth grade.”

“You really are in your neighborhood.”

“Yeah.” He blushed. “Never did get out, like I thought I would. Not complaining though. There’s a lot to love about Brooklyn.”

Bucky encouraged you to wrap your arm through the loop of his elbow again, and pointed out things to you about Brooklyn which had defied your notice prior. Brickwork at the pinnacle of a building, dating back to the 1920’s. A man dressed like a bush who stood on the street corner, blocking the walk button so no pedestrian could disturb his meditation. The fire hydrant he broke the bolt off senior year, flooding the sewer drains and causing rats to rush down the gutters like a parade of hissing floats. Halloween decorations in windows. Scarecrows mounted to telephone poles like they guarded a field of yellow taxis with as much aplomb as a treasury of corn stalks.

All the while… he distracted you. Little touches on your wrist where your coat met your skin with his soft gloves left you curling your fingers around air, and still he persisted. You studied his profile when he was distracted. With stubble and expression lines, he had character. He wasn’t stoic like you had thought him. Every inkling which crossed his brain was projected on his forehead like a drive-in feature just for you. And he kept smiling at you. 

You arrived at Brooklyn Bridge park having spent an eternity and no time at all in a horse-drawn carriage positively burdened with loose hay, but the tents and balloons and various sizes of gourds distracted you from anything but the Autumnal joy of it all. Stalls lined the park in a makeshift walkway, which smelled of pie spices and syrup, and crisping ham on a rotisserie, and campfire. 

When he helped you down from the carriage, placing your cane at your dominant side, Bucky instantly seemed to have a plan. Time passed like you were observing through a looking glass. He ushered a cup of cider into your hands, and then adios’d the empty into the garbage once you finished it. You dominated the hammer game, winning a massive plush gorilla. Which you promptly gave away to the first screaming child you saw, to Bucky’s amusement. He fed you funnel cake while you picked out your choice for the fastest piglet in a race which consisted of five piglets running around a kiddie pool. You lost–everyone did, when the piglets abandoned course to lay in the tepid water and snort bubbles at one another–but you left a lingering dusting of powdered sugar behind at the corner of your mouth. Bucky wiped it away without a second thought.

And so the date continued, with you floating beside a man whose eyes sparkled with delight every time you found joy in something. It didn’t feel like you had only met that day. You reached for his hand to express delight. He curled his fingers over your shoulder to wish you luck in the ring toss. Bucky–Barnes was his last name, you learned–was some kind of familiar fixture. He even bought you a coffee, and then brutally beat a group of sixth-graders at bobbing-for-apples.

It wasn’t until the sun tucked itself behind the rooftops that you realized dusk approached. Without needing to ask, Bucky summoned a cab. You had leaned on him heavily the second half of the afternoon, and opted to sit every opportunity you got. Yet… Bucky’s excitement never diminished. It wasn’t until you sat on the top step of your stoop that you realized it.

That was the best date you had ever been on.

And you sure as hell didn’t want it to end. The stars were out in force–as clear a night as you had ever seen in the city of light pollution, and yet… Orion’s belt… the pan handle of a Dipper… stars shone for you.

Bucky shoved his hands into his coat pockets in acknowledgement of the drop in temperature, while he balanced one foot up a step from you. He studied you through honest eyes–that is, he looked at you like he saw who you were without pretense. Which felt very vulnerable.

“Repeat the question,” you breathed.

Bucky smiled. “You date much?”

You shook your head. “No. To be honest, I don’t usually feel like it’s worth it. Putting myself out there. I’m sorry–I know it sounds like I’m wallowing in self-pity, but, uh. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to it. Being turned down. Because I use a stupid piece of metal to walk.”

“You could spend a lot of time feeling sorry for yourself, doll. And–that’s not to say you don’t have the goddamn right to feel some type of way about it. It’s your body, it’s not how you pictured your life going. Of course you’re gonna be sore about it. You aren’t alone in that. I’m just sayin’... Anybody who’d lose out on a chance with you because of something as insignificant as a tube of aluminum ain’t the type of person you wanna waste your time with anyhow.”

“It’s weird. I don’t disagree with what you’re saying, but. I dunno. It’s hard to think people exist who aren’t gonna be weird about a freakin’ cane.”

Bucky crossed his arms. “Fuck’em. Waste of your time.”

“What about you? Are you a time-waster?”

“Worse. I’m a Brooklyn boy. We can wait out a stubborn dame with the best of ‘em.” Bucky braced himself on the railing. “Can I take you out again?”

“You’re gonna sit on my porch until I agree to a second date?”

“I–when you say it like that, I sound like a creep,” he chuckled. “No, I just… if you had a good time, and I really hope you did, I would like to treat you to another date. I took a wild guess on the festival idea, but I can think of a million other things. More than just coffee.”

“I was holding a coffee mug in my profile photo,” you laughed. “That was enough.”

“There’s more out there.”

“I had a good time.”

“Is that a ‘yes’?”

You watched his face turn from excitement to pure glee. His body angled towards you intensely. All his energy was directed towards you. It made your skin tingle, and all good sense fled from your mind.

“Just come in, Bucky.”

“You gotta say it, or I ain’t budging. This is all up to you, doll.”

“Yes, okay?” You leaned against the doorway with an exasperated sigh. “I had a great time. You’re adorable, and exhausting, and I’ve never had more fun on a first date. Or any date, for that matter. Please–come inside. Kiss me a little. I think you’re probably good at it.”

“It’s been awhile,” he admitted quietly, though he pushed off the railing to do as you bid him.

“Good. I don’t like it so formal–”

“You’re so cute.”

“I’m not–”

“No, it isn’t up for debate.” Bucky tucked a finger under your chin so you’d look up at him, given that your attention had fallen to the laces of his boots in embarrassment. His irises flicked back and forth, mapping every refraction in your eyes. “I know cute when I see her. And there’s nobody else in this whole damned city but you, doll.”

He kissed you as if that were true… as if he had stepped out of the subway to a world devoid of anything but a billion scattered golden leaves tracing circles on the pavement, and a girl with a cane who hates surprises. As if–in that dystopian and autumnal universe, that were heaven to him. Like he’d been looking for you in every empty coffee shop. Like he knew you, and it was only a matter of walking into the right store. It was soft, the drag of his lips over yours. At first he just ghosted a millimeter from your mouth, but then he needed to know… so he gave in. He didn’t spoil it with tongue too soon. Bucky discovered you.

You’d been kissed, but never at the world’s end. The world you knew was siphoned away. In this one? Well, kisses stopped time. Made leaves hang in the air between gasping breaths. Kisses were where the light got in. Where sun broke through clouds… where a girl who didn’t much care for vulnerability let a man she barely knew steal every little sound from her throat, out on her front stoop where anybody could see them.

You got the door open by feel, and stayed on your feet by virtue of the man with roving hands who backed you into the building. It was for the best that your apartment was on the first floor, because your knees threatened to buckle when his tongue worried the seam of your lips. He tucked the crook of your cane into the curve of his elbow when you tore yourself away to fight the finicky lock at your threshold. 

“I didn’t expect to have anyone over,” you said by way of an explanation for whatever mess might be found inside, but Bucky snorted.

“When are you gonna get it through your head?” He nipped at the tendon which helped form the curve from your shoulder to neck, making you shiver. “I don’t give a shit if all you got is a mattress on the floor. I like you.”

“I have a bit more furniture than that,” you giggled, “but I still appreciate you saying it.”

The moment you were inside the apartment, Bucky leaned back against the door and turned you, so you stood between his feet. He looked at you through heavily-lidded eyes. “Tell me.”

You turned your attention to the buttons on his coat as he saw right through you. “Bucky–”

“I think you like kissing me, but you’re skittish. If you’re freaked out…”

“I’m–shit.” You sighed. “I believe you. That you like me, I do. But I am so used to feeling like nobody is ever gonna want me back–”

“Impossible.” He cupped your cheeks. “Look at you.”

“Bucky,” you groaned. 

“No, stop it. I know what you’re doing. Oldest trick in my book. You think that a good thing is a lie, that it ain’t gonna hang around. I’m a really, really, really bad liar. Alright? My ears turn red.” Bucky smiled triumphantly when you chuckled. “I watched you drink a pumpkin latte today like it was the best thing you’ve ever had in your whole damn life and it cost me three dollars. You’re charming. I’m addicted.”

He kissed your forehead and you melted into his chest in resignation. “I don’t do this,” you mumbled into his sweater.

“What? Let somebody say why they like you?”

You shook your head, and pressed your cheek against his chest. “I’m starving.”

“Oh–doll, dammit, I should’a fed you–”

“No. I mean, yes, we should order something,” you laughed, “but. Just. Why?” When you raised your hand, gesturing to your general being, Bucky’s expression transformed from concern to… something gentle. 

He shrugged, but his shoulders fell heavily downward, and his fingers curled into the pockets of your coat so you wouldn’t pull away while he found the words. 

“Because–I just knew. You were simply a notification in a stupid app and I still thought about your profile picture waiting in my ‘likes’ for days. And we talked like it was an everyday occurrence, feeling your world shift its axis. I didn’t talk to a single soul on that app but you, sweets, and I tried my damndest not to jump the gun on asking you to meet in person. Imagine my delight when you agreed. I was so terrified last night that I hardly slept, but I never thought once about feeling… self conscious, all day. It–I don’t feel that way with most girls. Safe, I guess. And I may not know what the hell I’m doing, but I’m not a guy who ever feels like I can trust a person and I’m pretty prepared to lay down naked in the street if you tell me that’s what you want–”

“Not necessary,” you said, smiling. 

“Well, that’s a relief.” Bucky brushed his thumbs over your cheeks. “Doll–I’m so sorry that anybody ever made you feel like you got some kinda worth to live up to. It makes me so angry, but then I think–who’s that for? What’s the point in me being angry at somebody who isn’t gonna change their mind… especially when it means that I get a chance.”

“Says the handsome guy with perfect teeth.” You winked at him when he scowled.

“I’m tryin’ here–”

“You’re wonderful,” you whispered. You smoothed over his bottom lip with the pads of your thumbs. “I’m… thank you.”

Bucky leaned forward until his forehead pressed against yours. “I’ve overwhelmed you.”

“No, sir. I just need a second. To acclimate to the idea.”

“I can go–”

“Please. Please don’t.” You tugged him towards the living room, slowly walking backwards and giving him every opportunity to wrench out of your grasp and run. But he didn’t break eye contact, no. Bucky kept pace with you, toe-to-toe. “We’ll watch something.”

“Spooky movie?” he suggested.

“...I’m such a wimp,” you admitted, and he let out a quick breath.

“You can hide under my arm during the scary parts.”

“So just bury myself under you the whole movie, got it–”

“If that’s what you want, doll.” Bucky smirked as your knees bumped into the lip of the couch, causing you to sit abruptly against the cushions. You still had a fist wrapped in the placate of his coat, so he fell forward, catching himself on the arm rest and hovering over you. You watched intently as his tongue whetted his bottom lip absent-mindedly, and you had to bite back a groan.

“That’s what I want. Bucky.”

***

A long time later, when your body was so sensitive that you shivered beneath him, Bucky hopped up… pantsless, still wearing his sweater, but peachy ass exposed to the air so he could run to the bathroom and find a soft cloth. When he returned to you (with a towel around his waist, suddenly bashful), he bore a damp washcloth in his left hand, which… you sat up slowly on your elbows to watch the reticulated fingers on his left hand as he cleaned you with soft strokes over your thighs and bit his lip… asshole. You smiled at him softly when his eyes flicked up to yours. 

“You gonna tell me about it, or wait for me to ask?” you murmured, sliding the cuff of his left sleeve up his bicep, exposing a charcoal and gold metallic limb to the dim light. 

Bucky didn’t say anything at first. He lifted you beneath the knees, and behind your back. He had no choice but to shower with you (since you woefully lacked a bathtub), as cleaning you both was clearly his priority, so he sat you on the edge of the porcelain counter to help you fully undress. He did so with a type of reverence which felt undue… but you were reminded that he didn’t look at you through the same lens with which you viewed yourself. Especially when he trailed his fingers over your softness like he didn’t feel worthy of touching you. 

But then, he stepped back from you, and he shucked his sweater.

He didn’t look you in the eye once he was fully exposed to you. He studied the tiles under your toes, and his hands didn’t seem to know whether to rest on his hips or try to hide his flesh from you, so he fidgeted. Which meant he didn’t see you reaching for his left hand, and when you did so (threading your fingers through his metal facsimiles), he looked like he might cry.

Bucky was an amputee. With a gleaming prosthetic extending from his clavicle to the tips of his left fingers, so intricate and complicated a design that it must be something experimental and custom-made, just for the likes of a soft-hearted Brooklyn boy.

“You’re beautiful.” You meant the raw words, even though they escaped your lips unbidden. 

Bucky squeezed your hand. “I’m not.”

“You don’t have to agree for it to be true.”

He looked at you, then. An agreement passed between you, unvoiced. I’ll say about you what you can’t. I’ll hold for you what you won’t. I’ll touch you again, because I want you, all of you–the flesh and the metal and the weak and the kind. Especially the kind. Of course Bucky understood you. Your heart-wounds took different guises, but they pulled the same strings.

When he knelt at your knee, it was supplication. It was obvious when he bowed his head to kiss the skin above your heart. Your heart had known his forever, it seemed. 

“A long time ago, I didn’t have a choice,” he said, so quietly you could only make out his words because you had coaxed him up to meet your lips again. “I almost died. I–god, I never thought I’d live or touch somebody again. And then you. I can’t explain this to people–” He rolled his shoulder like the limb was hurting him, and maybe it was– “without inviting them to look at my naked fuckin’ heart.”

“Is it heavy?” You ran your finger the length of the connector, where metal met his skin and cupped his pectoral. You meant the arm, but the way his head bobbed… you inclined your head so you could catch his lips before his spirit fell one iota further. It was a kiss of knowing. Understanding, without words.

“I can take it off,” he breathed against your lips.

“So do it.”

Bucky sat back on his heels. Then, he looked you square in the eye and detached the prosthetic arm. It wheezed as it lost power, the moment its circuits no longer drew power from his body’s natural electric whims. You held out your hands, and he set the thing across your open palms. It was lighter than you expected, but still hefty. You could only imagine how it pulled at his muscles, unnatural as it was. It was incredible, but then–so was the man with an empty prosthetic socket, who sat at your feet like he hadn’t hastily fucked you on your own couch at the end of your first date. Like sex was a small exchange when there was a soul resonance at hand. If you said it out loud? It would sound insane. Holding Bucky’s cheeks in your hands, though… 

“I like sushi,” you said softly, “and any carbs, really. So. Jot that one down, for your date ideas. And I’m a fabulous co-pilot if you like road trips. I love Upstate. I excel at floating down a river on an innertube–”

Bucky pushed up between your knees so he could reach your lips and he kissed you senseless. “Doll–”

“Shhh, darling man,” you smiled against his mouth. “I am addicted.” Parroting his words back to him made Bucky beam. “Stay the night. Surprise me in the morning. I don’t care. You’re everything I didn’t think I deserved and–and I’ll keep you. To spite Me.”

Bucky laughed. “It will be a pleasure to help you get revenge on yourself.”

***

Thanks for reading! :)

my masterlist - my bucky barnes masterlist

like what I do? buy me a coffee on ko-fi. :)

bucky barnes tag list: @peterhollandkait @honeywithemoney @eloiseishere @nahthanks @dracosluvbot @dracris33 @searchf0rtheskyline @goldylions

[fixfoxnox]

Attention - SoapRoach

Description: Roach knows that his boyfriend is a busy man. He's a Captain in the military with so many responsibilities. Still, with another day of plans missed in favor of paperwork, he's craving attention and he intends to have it.

Note: Based on the wonderful art done by the wonderful @miilkybnn (sorry for how much I've been tagging you in stuff lately 😅). Here are the two pieces, please go give them some love, they're incredible. 🧼 🪳

Warnings: Smut, Angst, Hurt and Comfort, tiny bit of fluff, Ghost is there for a second BTW, he's hyping Roach up, Dom/Sub tones

Word Count: 4.4k

Roach tapped his foot impatiently on the ground, nerves tugging at his chest. The longer he stood and the more nervous that he got, he already felt like he was on the verge of tears. The sound of his foot tapping impatiently rang around him, echoing in the dark to mix in with the sounds of crickets and frogs serenading the night. It only drove home the silence that surrounded him.

He crossed his arms over his chest, feeling the need for some sort of comfort as he glanced once again at the front door of the building. He was trying his hardest to give Soap the benefit of the doubt. He was hoping beyond hope that the man had simply gotten caught up in his paperwork and was rushing out to meet him now. They had reservations. They had plans. Roach had cleared his entire schedule to make a cute night out with his boyfriend. He'd even gone so far as to stash some...things in their shared room for when Soap would inevitably turn grabby, and they'd return to their room together.

Roach should have known better. At this point, he should have expected it because, well, Soap was Roach's boyfriend, but Captain MacTavish always won out over Soap and, by extension, Roach. Usually, it wasn't a problem. Usually, he loved how hard working and dedicated Soap was to his work and to the team. Usually.

Now, though, with the last four of their dates either canceled or rescheduled or changed because Soap had gotten himself too caught up in work to remember, Roach was frustrated. He'd had his fill of Captain MacTavish. Now he wanted his Soap. Roach wanted to finally have the man's attention to himself. No phone on just in case someone needed to call. No late dates. None of that. He wanted Soap to focus on him, to put him in front of his work at least once.

The door beside him opened, and Roach turned quickly, hope filling him as he did. It was dashed to pieces as he met the eyes of Ghost. Not Soap. He deflated a bit, tucking into himself further as he turned away from his Liutenant.

"Well," Ghost chuckled while taking several steps forward, "don't look too happy to see me." He nudged Roach's side playfully before digging into his pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes. Roach watched him pop one into his mouth before flicking open a lighter he'd pulled from who knows where to light the end of it.

"Sorry," he apologized quietly, his voice betraying how upset he was. "I was just expecting -"

"Captain?" Ghost guessed. He glanced at Roach from the corner of his eyes, and Roach avoided his gaze. He turned his attention to the ground, kicking at a rock with his foot as something heavy laid over his chest. "He's in his office. Buried in paperwork like usual."

"Of course he is," Roach grumbled under his breath. He didn't want to be mad. Roach wasn't someone who typically held things against others. In fact, oftentimes, he'd been told by members of the team that he was far too forgiving. He just couldn't shake it, though. He didn't like being angry. Now, though, there was a bubbling of white hot anger that seemed to move through his veins and simmer in his chest. He didn't like being angry, but God, he was so mad.

"I'm guessing," Ghost leaned against the wall next to him, crossing his arms over his chest before reaching up to pull the cigarette from his mouth, "You two had plans?"

"Yeah," Roach brought a hand up to rub over his face, trying not to let too much of his anger show. "Yeah, we did." He pulled his phone from his pocket, dialing the number of the restaurant and hovering his finger over the button to call. He needed to cancel their reservation and let the restaurant know that they could give the table to someone else. He didn't call. Instead, he just stared at it until his screen went dark. "I guess I should go back inside. If he forgot, then there's no point in waiting out here for him."

He tucked his phone back into his pocket and tilted his head up, looking at the dark sky above them for several moments. "You know," Ghost started carefully, "I hope you don't plan to let him off the hook easy for this one."

Roach turned toward him quickly, dread pooling in his chest. "What?"

Ghost took his time in responding, puffing out the smoke from his cigarette for several long moments. "This is, what?" He tilted his head at Roach, "Date number three that he's done this to you?"

"Four," Roach corrected quietly. "It's the fourth time."

"Four times is too many," Ghost shook his head and gave a small tut. A moment of silence hung in the air between them. Roach knew Ghost was right, of course, he knew Ghost was right. He'd been thinking the exact same thing. The only difference is that he knew he'd never have the guts to voice it.

"I know," he agreed. "I don't know what to do."

"Talk to him," Ghost suggested. Roach watched him toss his cigarette but to the ground and stomp his foot over it. "Get mad, Roach. I can see you're upset. Make him realize that you're upset." He pushed himself off of the wall and started back to the door of the building. Suddenly, he paused.

There was a moment that passed before he turned around and marched back over to Roach. "I'm serious, you know?" His voice was careful, and he reached up to pull the sunglasses from his face and lift his mask up enough that Roach could talk to Simon. Not Ghost. Simon.

"I know," Roach answered him quietly.

"You're worth more than what he's giving right now." Simon shook his head at him and made sure to meet his eyes, "You gotta make him realize that. Get mad. Yell. Punish him. Do something and -" he cut himself off with a click of his tongue and a shake of his head, "and don't stop until you've made him grovel. Until he's begging you to forgive him."

The two locked eyes and, for a long moment, they stayed like that. Understanding passed between them. "Thanks, Simon."

Simon hesitated for a long moment before giving Roach a nod. He tugged his mask back down and threw the glasses on top, leaving Roach staring at Ghost once again. Ghost leaned forward to give his shoulder a slight squeeze. "Give him hell, Bug."

With those words, he turned and quickly disappeared inside, once again leaving Roach alone in the dark of the night.

Roach stood outside of Soap's office, his eyes trailing over the neat name plate on the door. Captain John MacTavish. He could hardly stand the sight of the name at the moment. He was mad at Captain MacTavish. He was mad at Soap.

Still, he kept his composure. He didn't like being mad, so he tried not to be as he reached up to give several quick knocks to the door. He knew Ghost wanted him to be mean, wanted him to be mad, but Roach couldn't. He just wasn't like that.

He waited patiently, listening for any call from the other side of the door. Nothing. He knocked again. Another few minutes went by, and there was still no response. He didn't knock again. He knew that if Soap hadn't answered, that meant that the man was too far into his work to pay attention to him. Too far in to actually hear when someone knocked.

He pushed the door open without any further alert of his presence. The door opened silently, but Roach wasn't quiet as he stepped into the room and shut it a little louder than he normally would behind him. His eyes were locked on to Soap the entire time, but he only received a brief glance from Soap before the man focused himself back on the papers on his desk. A flash of anger burst through his chest at the move, but he ignored it.

He stood at the door for several moments. The only sounds in the room were the ticking of the clock on the wall and the scratch of Soap's pen on paper. Roach waited patiently, giving Soap the chance to acknowledge him. To maybe realize what he'd done and apologize before Roach had to spell it out to him. He could never be so lucky.

He took slow steps toward Soap's desk, the sound of his boots hitting the floor echoed around him. He crossed his arms over his chest as he stopped in front of Soap's desk. He waited another moment, but Soap still never looked up at him. Finally, in a voice that was much calmer than he felt, he asked, "Did you forget something?"

Soap glanced up at him from his papers again, but it was clear to see that he still wasn't paying attention. His mind was focused on work and work alone. Something about that made Roach angrier. "I don't think so." He answered back quickly.

"Soap." Roach called his name, his voice betraying how annoyed he felt. Soap didn't look up at him again. "Soap." Roach spoke a little louder. His voice was a little harsher. "Soap!"

Roach gave in to the anger he felt just briefly, just long enough that he didn't even think before rounding the desk and grabbing the paper that Soap was working on to yank it out from under his pen. The move left a streak of ink across the paper, and Soap was quick to stand up, his own face ticked with annoyance. Still, he didn't look at Roach. Instead, he just tried to fix the papers that Roach had displaced.

"Roach, I really don't have time for -"

"Soap," Roach reached out to grab Soap's face, tired of trying to get his attention. He used his grip to turn Soap so that he was forced to look at him. "Look at me!"

There was a pause. Soap blinked at Roach in shock, his entire face betraying his surprise. Roach could see the beginnings of a blush raising across the other man's face, and a part of him felt more then smug about that fact. "Roach," Soap breathed out. Slowly, Roach released his hand on Soap's face.

He took in a deep breath, trying to remember himself. He didn't want to be angry. He didn't like being angry. "Soap," he met his boyfriend's eyes, "did you forget something?"

Soap stared at him, searching his face for a long moment. Roach could see the moment that realization dawned on his boyfriend's face, the moment that he realized that he had indeed forgotten something. "Roach," he breathed out again, "I am so sorry." Roach turned away from him, leaning against his desk for support. "I am so so sorry, I just got caught up and-"

"It's alright," Roach assured him, shaking his head at himself as he did. "I already canceled the reservation."

"Let me make this up to you?" Soap turned back to his desk, "I swear I will make this up to you, okay? Just let me finish this paperwork, and I'll take you out."

Roach's head shot to the side, his eyes wide as he watched Soap sit back down in his desk chair, his attention returning to the papers in front of him. "Are you-"

"I promise I will fix this," Soap pulled some of the papers back in front of him, "I will make this up to you tenfold and we'll go get something to eat and we can reschedule our date night. I'll take the next one off-"

"That's what you said this time," Roach reminded him, still watching with wide eyes and growing anger as Soap returned his attention to the papers, his pen already scratching at the paper again.

"Yes, but I'm serious this time." Soap muttered the words, his attention already gone from Roach. With it went Roach's patience.

"You-" Roach's clenched his jaw, a burning heat of anger flooding through him. He could hear Ghost's words echoing around in his head.

"You gotta make him realize that. Get mad. Yell. Punish him. Do something, and don't stop until you've made him grovel. Until he's begging you to forgive him."

Before Roach could really think over what he was doing, he'd moved his hands to Soap's shoulders and shoved, pushing the man back until his chair was far enough from the desk that he could clamber onto his lap.

"Roach?" Soap's hands flew to Roach's waist, but Roach didn't let them stay there for long. He grabbed at Soap's wrists and with a surprising amount of strength and a lot of help from Soap being caught off guard, he was able to yank Soap's hands away and pin them to the arms of the chair he was in. "Roach?"

"Keep them there," Roach hissed, his face serious, "don't touch."

Soap's eyes widened, and Roach could see that blush from before return. This time, though, it stayed to linger over Soap's cheeks and trail down his neck. "Roach," he breathed out, "what's going on?"

"Do you know how many of our dates you've blown off in a row?" Roach asked him, his voice deceptively calm. His face was still stormy, though, and even as he moved closer to Soap, pressing their hips together temptingly, it didn't fade.

"I," Soap stopped for a moment, his mind fully registering what Roach was asking him. He felt his heart sink into his chest as he realized exactly what this was about. "I don't know."

Roach scoffed and ground his hips down, pulling a gasp from Soap's lips and a small sigh of satisfaction from his own. "Four dates," he glared at the man beneath him, "Four dates that you've blown me off on." He paused for a moment before adding, "I'm beginning to think you're trying to tell me something."

"No!" Soap rushed to speak, but he cut himself off as Roach rolled his hips against him again. "No, ah, uh, no Roach, that's not what's been happening."

"Why then?" Roach asked the words carefully. He carded a hand through Soap's hair, tugging until the other was forced to meet his eyes and hold his gaze as Roach asked, "Is your work more important than me?"

"No," Soap was quick to assure, "of course not Roach thats not- oh fuck!"

Roach cut him off with a hand pressed against his crotch, palming him through his pants. He could feel as the other was growing harder against him. "Really? Then why won't you pay attention to me, hmm?"

"I do pay attention to you," Soap moved his hands from the arms of his chair, once again wrapping the around Roach's waist to tug him closer, "I've just been -"

"Ignoring me," Roach finished, glaring him down, "and blowing me off for paperwork. Is paperwork more interesting than me?" He tilted his head before moving closer, not stopping until his lips were just hovering over Soap's.

"No," Soap shook his head rapidly, "of course not."

"Apparently, it is." Roach reached back to once again grab Soap's hands and press them against the arms of the chair. He gave the man a glare before releasing his grip on Soap's wrists, reminding the man with only a look that he shouldn't move. A hand returned to Soap's hair, giving a slight tug at the strands between his fingers. Soap groaned at the slight pain.

"Since you can't pay attention to me," Roach rolled his hips against Soap's again, a satisfied groan leaving his lips as he felt Soap's hard cock against his own arousal, "You're going to keep your hands off and watch. Understand?"

He tugged at Soap's hair again and, in return, he recieved several rapid nods from the man.

"Good boy," Roach leaned forward to press a short kiss to Soap's lips, only letting the touch linger for a moment before pulling back.

He leaned away from Soap, just enough that he could get a hand between them. He let his fingers brush down Soap's chest, a sick amusement filling him as Soap tried to subtly lean into the touch. He trailed his hand down further and further until he could press his hand against the prominent bulge in his boyfriend's pants.

He took his time, offering a teasing massage of his hand over the other man. Soap's head tilted back, little gasps of pleasure leaving his mouth as Roach touched him. "God," Roach watched as his eyes closed and his mouth fell open. "You're so perfect. It feels so good."

Roach removed his hand at those words, causing Soap to lean back up and look down between them. Roach didn't touch him again, and he hardly paid him any mind. Instead, he let his hands lower to his own pants.

He wasted no time, swiftly undoing his belt, followed by the button and zipper of his trousers. He tucked his hand into his pants, stroking himself over his underwear for a long moment, letting Soap watch the movement of his hand and hear his little pants and moans.

"If only it was you touching me," Roach whispered the words, letting them sit heavily between them as he finally pulled his underwear down, pulling his hard cock out to let it rest between their bodies. The tip of his cock was resting against Soap's stomach and Roach could hear his boyfriend's stuttered breath.

"It could be me touching you," Soap managed to choke out. He and Roach gave a simultaneous groan as Roach wrapped a hand around himself, starting a slow rhythm with his hand. Roach noted the harsh grip that Soap had on the chair, clearly wanting to move and take over control of the situation.

Roach let himself fuck his fist, moving with slow but tight strokes over his cock. He felt unbelievably hot and he had to admit that having Soap underneath him, listening to whatever he said, it was so hot. It was meant to be a punishment and make the other realize what hecwas missing, but Roach found himself enjoying the desperate attention and pleas of the man underneath him.

"No, no," Roach sped his hand up, the feel of his hand on his heated skin was almost too much, "you clearly don't want to touch me." He leaned back, using Soap's desk to keep himself up and push himself that much further from Soap's touch. He tilted his head back as he sped his movements up, fucking his fist quicker with little jerks of his hips. "Fuck," he whined out.

"Roach," Soap gave a groan, "I'm sorry, really I-"

"You're not sorry," Roach cut him off, his voice a mix of harsh desperation. "You just want to touch." He brought his free hand up, slipping it under his shirt to toy with his nipples beneath the fabric. He could hear Soap's breath hitch at the move. "Is this what I have to do to get your attention?"

He flicked a finger over one of his nipples, trying to mimic the way that Soap would always tease him when they were together. It wasn't the exact same, but it was good enough for Roach, who happily groaned at the feeling. Every touch sent a spark down his spine that went straight to his aching cock. Every groan and desperate plea for him that left Soap's mouth followed a similar path, though they burned Roach with both pleasure and anger.

Several moments of silence lingered between the two, filled only with the sounds of Roach's pleasured moans and Soap's answering groans. Roach could feel how hard the man was underneath him, the length of him pressing against his ass. Roach gave himself a moment longer of just stroking over his cock before he finally started to rock his hips, grinding purposefully against the man beneath him.

Soap's own hips jolted up a bit, trying hard to seek some sort of relief to his own arousal. Roach allowed him the movement, knowing that it was next to nothing for the man beneath him. He knew that it would take Soap much more than the rocking pressure that he was offering. The man would only drive himself crazier. The thought made him feel a bit satisfied. Let Soap be the one craving his attention.

Their moans joined together, both of them panting and groaning as the temperature around them grew hotter and hotter. Roach sped up his hand, his legs beginning to shake just a bit as pleasure zipped up his spine and coiled tighter and tighter in his gut.

His skin felt hotter and hotter, and soon, he was jerking forward, burying his face into Soap's neck as it grew to be almost too much for him. He whined into Soap's neck, pressing desperate kisses there as he continued to fuck into his fist, the tip of his cock rutting up against Soap's shirt adding just an extra bit of pleasure.

"I miss you," he managed to choke out between his moans, "I miss you so much. Fuck I want- oh," he gave several open mouthed pants against Soap's shoulder. He could feel as one of Soap's hands moved away from the seat to grab at his hips, helping him continue to rock forward into his fist. He couldn't find it in himself to chide Soap at the moment, not when he felt an odd mix of anger, sadness, and overwhelming pleasure swarming together to create a cocktail of desire.

"I wish you would choose me over work," he managed to choke out after a moment, "I wish you'd pay attention to me."

There was no moment for Soap to respond. Roach was already too far gone, his mind fizzing out around the pleasure of his hand as his words devolved into nothing but chants of Soap's name. It only took him a few move moments before his body went completely tense, his cock jerking in his hand as pleasure washed over him and he came across Soap's stomach.

He collapsed fully against Soap's shoulder, a small whimper escaping his throat as his oversensative cock brushed against the other's now dirtied shirt. Soap helped him settle down fully into his lap. Neither of them said a word, even as Soap remained hard against Roach's thigh. They just sat there for several moments, wrapped up in the other.

Eventually, Roach pulled back and started to climb off of Soap and fix himself up. He tucked himself back into his pants and started to redo his belt

"Um," his voice cracked a bit, and he reached up to wipe at his face, already feeling as though tears were slipping down his face, "I'm gonna go back to the room. I'll see you when you get done?"

"Roach," Soap tugged him closer, reaching out to wrap around his waist and pull him closer. Roach placed his hands on Soap's shoulder and looked down at him, trying hard not to let too much show on his face. Soap met his eyes and held his gaze for a moment. "I am sorry."

"Soap," Roach started trying to tug himself away, but he was quickly pulled back by Soap.

"No," Soap tugged him back, "I really am sorry, okay? I didn't realize what I was doing. I didn't realize I was hurting you." He tucked Roach tight against him, holding him as close as he could. "It's not an excuse. I shouldn't have done it."

"It's fine," Roach muttered quietly. He brought a hand up to Soap's hair, petting through it for several moments as Soap laid a head on his chest. "I know work is important."

"Not as important as you," Soap whispered back. Roach felt himself go warm at the words, a fluttery feeling blossoming in his chest. Hearing those words made him feel good. It made him feel wanted. "I'll make this up to you."

Roach shook his head, a small smile tugging at the side of his mouth, "Soap you don't have to-"

"I'm serious," Soap stood from his seat and pressed Roach back against the desk. "I'll take the entire day off, and I'll make the plans." He leaned forward to press a short kiss to the corner of Roach's mouth, "I won't even bring my phone. It'll be a day about just me and you. I'll give you all the attention that you deserve."

He pressed forward again, capturing Roach's mouth against his own in a slow kiss. Roach couldn't help but relax into the feeling, letting Soap work his magic with his mouth. It was calming to just let Soap press into him like this. "I would like that," Roach muttered against his lips. "I would really like that."

Soap pulls back and grabs Roach's hand in his own. "C'mon, let's go get something to eat. I can finish this stuff up tomorrow."

He starts tugging Roach toward the door, but Roach yanks back on his hand, stopping him. When he turns back to Roach with an eyebrow raised, he's met with a slight grin from the other. "Maybe we should both go change first? And take care of some other things."

Roach motioned down at Soap's body, toward the cum still staining his shirt and the very clear hard on that he still had. There was a moment of silence as Soap looked down at himself before he gave a quiet, "Ah," and looked back up to meet Roach's eyes. He watched for a moment as Roach tried to hide his laughter behind his hands. He could feel amusement pull at him as he took stock of the situation. "This is your fault you know."

Soap took a step toward Roach, a grin on his face. Roach gave another laugh into his hands and took another step back, "It absolutely is not."

"It is," Soap chimed. He started toward Roach with a grin, and Roach gave a nervous squeak before rushing back around the desk with a laugh, "You've got to help me with this, you know?"

"No, no," Roach tried to dodge around Soap, but he was quickly hauled back toward Soap and pressed closer to him again. He gave a laugh, completely uncaring as the cum on Soap's shirt transferred to his own. It already had once before, so he wasn't too worried. Instead, his attention was focused on the hard cock he could feel pressed against him.

"C'mon," Soap nipped at his neck, a grin clear to hear in his voice, "didn't you want my attention? You've got all of it now, Bug."

Roach did always enjoy Soap's attention.

[whorety-k]

Ebony Coasts [Part 2]

I couldn't resist the allure of part two with our favorite raven man so please accept my continued rambles.

Pairing: Merfolk!Corvus Corax x fem!Marine Conservationist!Reader (second person POV)

Song recommendation: Cosmic Love - Florence + The Machine

“No dawn, no day / I’m always in this twilight /In the shadow of your heart.”

Warnings: Ocean mentions / potential thalassophobia, the dull horrors of an average day at the workplace

Word Count: 2k

[Part 1] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7 (NSFW)]

Submitting your report had been a frustrating endeavor with what felt like a million following questions. How many perpetrators? “What age were they?” “Why were you out alone?” “Why were there no tracks?” If you weren’t someone who so fiercely kept their word, you would have wondered if the paperwork of telling the world about the existence of mermaids was better than the droning interrogation by your supervisors. Thankfully, the excuse of nightfall and the surprising lack of CCTV around the marine protected area allowed you to actually get away with the lies you were feeding into your statements. Your submission to make that area of the beach quarantined off from the surrounding sands was approved, which you celebrated eagerly. Your reputation and knowledge definitely helped the push.

Your patience, however, could be better. You tried to return to Corvus’s beach the very next night, determined to let him know that he wasn’t going to be bothered by your agency any longer (and perhaps fully convince yourself that he was, in fact, real). You nearly missed the cave during your search; Corvus must have put more effort into concealing his newest home, as the entrance was thoroughly hidden amongst new coastal vegetation that wasn’t present the night before. 

It shouldn’t have been surprising that he was nowhere to be seen, his den left empty aside from the sloshing of water as you searched for him. Still, you were determined to gain the merman’s favor. The items you had taken from him as ‘evidence’ had unfortunately already been disposed of, so you had to resort to doing the next best thing. You left a proud silver pearl from your own trinket stash on one of the shelf-like rock formations deeper within the cavern. Seeing no other reason to stick around or snoop any longer, you headed home.

When your supervisor slaps down a manila folder detailing Corvus’s beach under the watch of you and your team, you could have hollered. You instead thank her politely before she returns to her own tasks, figuring an outburst wouldn’t have a great place in the quiet office. A quick read through the included documents and permits informs you that your team is now directly responsible for observation and maintenance of the shoreline, detailing the duties specific to you and each other member. Nothing appears to be too invasive toward your mysterious new friend– if you can call him that. 

The first week out is spent surveying. It’s a task you’re intimately familiar with at this point in your career: taking notes on the flora and fauna of the area and their current condition, measuring certain formations’ levels of erosion and wear. It’s easy to fall into a flow state and forget yourself, not finding much of note as you converse with your coworkers and strategically leave out the depth of a certain familiar structure.

On the third day of the survey, you find that you’re the only one of your team to show up. A frustrated huff leaves your lips as you withdraw your phone in haste, tapping away inquiring messages and finding out that everyone but you has a convenient case of the common cold. You roll your eyes as you pocket the device. Surveying can be incredibly boring work– you really, truly know– but it’s important for record keeping. With your hands tucked into your jacket, a pack full of equipment, and your trusty waders to keep you dry, you set off along a safe path down the cliffside. 

You reach the coastline without a hitch and set off to get started on today’s work. Time flies by as you check off each necessary task. The sun is nearly setting by the time you get around to making a routine documentation of the native succulents, when a piercing sensation of unease stops you cold. A look left or right reveals nothing of note, nothing out of place. You suppress the shiver down your spine as you kneel down and withdraw a metal pen from your backpack. Halfway through noting the species name of the invasive aizoaceae, the distinct prickle at the back of your neck becomes too much. You groan as you stand, brushing off your knees and turning around. 

A mixture of a gasp and shriek leaves your throat when you come face to face with a familiar figure standing directly at your back, startling him almost as much as he startled you. 

“Corvus–,” you choke out, placing a hand on your chest as you catch your breath. 

The merman gives you an apologetic look. His baritone voice clears the tension in the air. “My apologies; I did not intend to alarm you."

You take a deep breath and let out a heavy sigh to calm yourself, looking up at the giant before you. You offer a pacifistic hand his way as you speak, “Apology accepted, but please stop doing that. I don’t want to die of a heart attack anytime soon.”

Corvus looks at your hand with marked confusion, much the same way he did the previous week. Mirroring his previous action, he tentatively places his much larger hand over your own. “It would be unpleasant to have to dispose of your body,” the merman utters.

You give Corvus an incredulous look before it clicks that he’s making a joke. You chuckle at his words, squeezing one of the digits of his hand before placing your hands in your pockets. 

The peaceful staring contests between the two of you are starting to feel strangely comfortable as he observes you. In the waning sunlight, you get a far better look at his form than you could have in his cavern. Although still so starkly black and white, you’re able to see the muted grays and silvers speckled within his fins and scales. Looking at his fins, you notice that there’s actually quite a few more of them than you had originally observed. The dorsal fin at his back separates into a second caudal fin that wraps around the base of his tail. Two fins that would be pectoral fins on a regular fish lay at his sides just above the transition from skin to scale. Ventral fins trail below his hips at his front, obfuscating any anatomy you would have rudely just stared at. Corvus Corax has more similarities to a black betta fish than any other marine animal you could think of. 

“You gifted me a pearl.”

The sound of the merman’s voice causes you to look back up at him.

“Was there a purpose for it?” he asks, leaning down to be closer to your level. The movement only serves to reinforce just how large he is compared to you, at least twice your size.

You momentarily gather your words. “I wanted to make up for the things I took from you earlier,” you reply, “I know it doesn’t make up for the entire thing but–”

“Thank you,” Corvus interrupts, the ghost of a grin on his face. The expression is so subtle in the abyss of his almond eyes that it’s nearly invisible, but the upturn of his normally ever-frowning lips is hard to miss.

You feel your cheeks warm at the genuine show of gratitude from the giant, excitement palpitating in your chest. You reflect that smile back at him. “I’m in charge of conservation at your beach now,” you shift topics with ease, enjoying the merman’s presence as he seems to slowly open up to you, “You’ll be seeing me around a lot more often.”

“Is that so?”

“I’ll be able to leave you a few more presents from time to time.”

The way the large mer faintly perks up like an excited dog at your promise melts your heart in an instant, and you hide your disappointment when Corvus tempers himself, taking on the more solemn posture characteristic of him. “I will be grateful for each of them,” the merman responds with grace, “but perhaps refrain from using pearls in the future.”

A sinking feeling fills you. It had taken you two entire hours to decide on what you were going to give Corvus for your official ‘sorry for stealing your hoard’ offering, and it distressed you to think that he didn’t like it as much as you had thought he would. You decide to apologize. “Shit, I’m sorry. Are pearls not your thing?”

Corvus emanates a low chuckle, the first of that specific sound you had heard come from the man. It reminded you of a low drum. His answer comes warmly, “The pearl was lovely. I am rather fond of them.”

You quirk your head at him, perplexed. “Oh… okay?” Your voice raises with confusion, a silent question laced within your remark.

Corvus’s face twists with brief intensity as he struggles to determine what to say. He exhales as he looks down at his tail fin. The look on his face can only be described as bashful, and for once it isn’t you struggling to respond. He keeps his face angled away from you when he eventually explains, “I find it difficult to deny a marriage proposal from someone so well-meaning.”

If your cheeks had only been warm before, they could make the sun itself shy away now. You gawk at him like a fish (a surprising twist of events, as the human in the situation), stammering as embarrassment quickly floods through your nervous system. 

Both of you share the awkward moment unable to figure out a suitable response, Corvus cringing at his words and you hastily trying to apologize. 

“I am grateful for your interest,” Corvus finally says in an attempt to ease the tension, “but I am not one to make such decisions hastily, so please allow me to ponder it.”

Words finally claw their way out of your throat. “I wasn’t trying to propose!” you accidentally bellow, making Corvus jump. You wrangle your emotions in, exerting visible force, before you continue. Your voice levels out, “...I just wanted to give you something back. They threw everything I took from you away already, so I couldn’t retrieve anything.”

Corvus’s expression is unreadable as he turns his head to fully look at you, mouth slightly agape. His lips seal and he nods, seeming relieved and… something else? “That greatly simplifies things,” is his short response.

You place your hands at the side of your head, grumbling, “Is there anything else I need to know about gifting you so I don’t accidentally, I don’t know, curse your family and insult your bloodline?”

The attempt at humor eases the giant in front of you and earns another soft chuckle. When he makes to lay upon his chest, the pink of the setting sun reflects off of the scant silver scales along his body. He settles upon his elbows, one clawed hand resting upon the other. A Corvus-sized trail in the wet sand behind him comes into view before you decide to sit down beside him, crossing your legs and resting your elbows on your knees. Corvus examines how your legs move with curiosity, shifting his tail into a more comfortable loose curl. It protects you from any of the more ambitious waves that travel up the beach. 

“Any genuine token from you will be received positively,” the merman states.

You nod appreciatively to him, then turn your attention back to your previous task. As the sun dips below the horizon, you take the tranquil moment to finish up your survey notes, jotting down the remaining information about the invasive flora. Corvus’s eyes focus on your work, and he shifts closer to observe it. You complete your statement and shut your notebook with a dull thump, placing it at your side and clicking your writing utensil shut. When you shift to grab your backpack from behind you, your gaze lands on the jet merman. Even with his stony exterior, you can see how plainly his ebony eyes transfix upon the silver pen.

“...No.”

“Pardon?”

“You can’t have my pen.”

Corvus pouts.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'm absolutely whipped for this man and already thinking about making this a slow burn series for the month of May.

Also if anyone has any feedback, please to tell!! I enjoy everything from constructive criticism to incoherent keyboard mashing and your tags keep me inspired.

Until next time, my loves <3

[Part 3]

[copperbadge]

Now that I’m home and avoiding work, notes from the Europe trip in terms of travel and...for lack of a better word self-care, but it’s really more like, accessibility centered around being a) anxious and b) over forty. 

-- The ability to do laundry was nice. I’d anticipated it would be helpful but not nearly as helpful as it was. Also having a fridge was super convenient, and having an oven was a nice perk in London and Rome. 

-- I planned to be able to do laundry so I only brought five days’ worth of clothes, and some were ‘disposable’ which was also convenient -- I brought my oldest underwear that I would have thrown out soon anyway, an extremely old pajama shirt, and at least one pair of trousers that was, as it were, on its last legs. That all worked fantastically; when I ran out of room in the suitcase on the last day of the trip I just tossed the trousers, and I’d already thrown out most of the underwear. 

-- I was more self-conscious than anticipated about my language limitations, which led to a lot of avoidance -- not anything I really wanted to do, like museums and the football match, but things I could have done, like eating out or going into shops. It was mostly to do with the look people got on hearing English out of my mouth. So either I need to learn more basic phrases or be more prepared for the look. (To be fair, in Rome I would say mi dispiace, sono American and they’d immediately be cool.) 

-- My stash of granola/protein bars was clutch, and going to a grocery store for staples was also very helpful. Turns out wherever you go, even if they don’t have Diet Coke, they almost always have babybel cheese.

-- No day trips between cities. Going from London to Cambridge and back for the day was great; going from London to Amsterdam to Paris in a single day was not. If I’m going somewhere new and not going back somewhere familiar at end of day, I need to get there, sleep, have a full day there, and leave either that evening or the following morning at minimum.

-- Relatedly: I don’t have to do this thing anymore where I book early departures or late arrivals because they’re cheap and don’t use up my vacation time. They only make me anxious. From now on even if it ‘wastes’ a day, I only book travel that departs and arrives during daylight hours. It’s always fine, nothing bad happens, but the anxiety is Too Much.  

-- The tablet and bluetooth keyboard in lieu of a laptop worked well. It wasn’t much lighter or more compact, but I was less worried about theft and because it charged via USB I didn’t have to wrangle an extra cord, I could just unplug my phone and plug the tablet in. That configuration also fit in my very small bag where a laptop wouldn’t, so I could carry it in my bag while in transit and not have to get my luggage out of the rack. 

-- The Very Small Bag (a map case) worked fine but while I didn’t need a bigger one I could have used one with more pockets. I was always losing the exact thing I needed in the jumble at the bottom of the bag. I think for longer trips I prefer a small messenger bag that has both a reasonable main cargo compartment but also pockets for stuff like passport and spare battery. 

Overall, a lot of the stuff I’d planned went off well, so at this point it’s less about logistics -- what to pack, how to pack it -- than it is about arranging things to lower anxiety and make transitions easier. That kind of thing sometimes you just need to experience in order to know how to handle it, so that’s fine. Next time I won’t be angry about Amsterdam when it’s not Amsterdam’s fault, or stuck waiting for a bus late at night at Rome Termini.  

[imyourbratzdoll]

Hi!

Can you write an angst how Chris becomes verbally abusive towards gf!reader but he apologized and beg her to stay. But still she made an escape plan to his surprise causing to him spiral down the dark. And not knowing she was pregnant and causing her to have miscarriage. You can choose the ending and some twists!

Thank youuuu

hi, sorry this took so long. I hope you like it.

gif isn’t mine and dividers by @firefly-graphics and @newlips

summary - chris was never a good boyfriend to reader and when she finally escapes the man she thought she fell in love with, she begins to regret it as a monster like chris will never rest.

warning - dark chris, abuse, angst, manipulation, trigger warning - miscarriage.

please be advised that this may be a sensitive subject and I’d like you to put yourself first.

“Why the fuck are you so stupid?!” Chris screams, slamming down the soaking book as his girlfriend cowers away. “All I asked for you to do is bring me my fucking book, but you had to go ahead and spill something on it. God, why the fuck did I have to choose you when I have women lining up to be with me!?” Veins appear on Chris’s neck and forehead at how angry he is. 

Y/n whimpers and tears rapidly flow out of her eyes. This was a daily recurrence, but it wasn’t always like this when they first got together. Y/n thought Chris was fantastic, like one of the Disney princes, but how wrong she was, and after a while, he slowly turned into the villain instead. 

Chris snaps out of his anger when he sees his girlfriend flinch. His eyes go between her and his hand that’s raised before he quickly falls to the floor and crawls toward her, his eyes pleading. “Oh, baby, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, please don’t leave. Please, I love you so much.” Tears roll down his face as he begs and pleads with her, watching how her eyes become distant, and she nods, no words leaving her lips as she fears anything she says will cause him to scream at her.

Night came fast for the couple, with Chris trying his best not to snap at Y/n and forcing out loving words and for Y/n to flinch and curl into herself whenever her boyfriend would touch her or walk by. She might’ve looked distant on the outside, but in her head, she had a plan to finally escape this hell and be free of this monster she once loved. When he wasn’t looking, she managed to slip some crushed sleeping pills into his beer. 

The moment Y/n saw he had been knocked out, she knew that right then was her only chance. Y/n quickly ran to their bedroom, grabbed the already packed bag she had stashed away and then headed straight for the door. When she left the house, she felt like she could finally breathe. The shackles holding her to this hell were finally cut. Y/n quickly took off, trying to distance herself from the house as fast as possible.

A few hours went by before Chris woke. His mind was foggy as he looked around groggily. He was confused as to why he fell asleep in his chair, the empty beer bottle still in his grasp as he slowly got up. “Y/n?!” Chris lets out a grunt when he staggers, wondering where the fuck you could be. He supports himself against the wall as he blinks the blurriness away, “Y/n! You better get the fuck out here now before I do some serious fucking damage!” Once he has his bearings, he walks up the stairs and to the bedroom.

Chris looks around the room, noticing that you aren’t in there, causing a sense of panic to rush through him and for him to run around the house, calling for you. When Chris notices that you aren’t anywhere to be found, his mind begins to run wild, and crazed thoughts enter it, nearly driving him insane. 

He pulls out his phone and begins to call you. The sound of ringing can be heard in the kitchen, causing him to make his way over. “FUCK”, there sits your phone, “what a stupid fucking bitch.” He grabs your phone and throws it across the room, causing the device to smash into a million pieces from the force. He begins to call and text his friends and family, wanting to know if anyone has seen you and to please keep a lookout. 

Months go by, with Chris chasing any lead he has on Y/n and her running and hiding every chance she gets. When Y/n ran, she didn’t know that she was carrying Chris’s child, but when Y/n woke one morning to blood covering her thighs and the motel’s sheets, Y/n honestly thought that she was going to die, but with the bit of money she had, she went and saw a doctor. Making sure to keep herself hidden, she wishes that Chris killed her like she knew he wanted to.

Because the pain she experienced with losing a child she didn’t know she had and the pain of going through a miscarriage was more painful than being with that monster. 

After months of pain and suffering on Y/n’s end, she made a mistake that tipped off where she was to Chris. She didn’t know that she had made a mistake, and she didn’t expect him to be sitting on her bed waiting for her with a dark grin.

“Ahh, there you are, baby. I could’ve sworn you ran off on me, but my good girl wouldn’t do that, now would she?” Chris slowly stands and stalks toward her quivering body. When he gets close enough to the frozen woman, his hand grips her chin between his fingers. “You gave me a good chase, sugar.” His grin widens, causing Y/n’s breath to hitch. 

Her body was still sore from losing their child, not that she’ll tell Chris that, but then again, she wouldn’t be surprised if he already knew. “H–how’d you find me?” The chuckle he let out would haunt her dreams forever. 

“How’d I find you?” He laughs again. His grip on her chin was tighter now. “Don’t you remember, baby? You’re stupid, just a stupid little girl that can’t do anything right.” Chris’s brows furrowed, and the glare on his face pierced through her. 

Y/n’s shaking furiously, a cold feeling going through her body as the look in Chris’s eyes is a lot worse than before. Before, he was just angry but now. Now Y/n wished she had died during her miscarriage. She wished she had been hit by a car or a bus. She wished she was dead. 

Chris continues to smile before he leans closer to her. “You can run, baby, but you can’t hide.” He leans back just enough to look deep into her eyes. “If you ever think of running again, I will break your fucking legs and tie you up.”

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[paingoes]

Crash Out

Nimrod III

the gang goes on a bender

(Content: (ex) royal whumpee, whumper turned whumpee, sadistic whumper, immortal whumper, drugs, dissociation, amnesia, blood, guns, threat of dismemberment, actual dismemberment, psychological torture, addiction mention, fainting)

==========

“Do you have painkillers?” Lorelai picked at the bandages on her arm. Paris looked at her through the side of his eyes.

“…Obviously I have painkillers.”

He didn’t like them much. He didn’t like anything that felt like it was slowing him down, not before and especially not now. Still, he had a bit of everything stashed away in the compartments.

“I want them,” Lorelai said softly.

“Is it that bad?” There was some small worry in his voice. Johanna had nicked him too, in many different places, but it hadn’t felt like much at the time and it didn’t feel like much after. He guessed his own pain tolerance was a bit skewed. Still, he didn’t like the thought of her messing with them. “Take the aspirin first. Let me know how you feel after.”

She shrugged, pulling the pack out from the first aid kit. She chewed down on the chalky tablets so they’d absorb faster. Her phone went off. He noticed that it was a different phone from the one she had when they had first left — or at least a different case. This one had irregular pearls all over the back of it. She read off the notification.

“I want to go to Xcelcia’s Fair. We’re gonna fly over it tonight,” she hummed in a weary voice.

“I think you should go the fuck to sleep.” 

==========

“When did we get to the mall?” He blinked. She looked up at him in surprise, wearing different clothing than she had been the moment previous.

“Two hours ago?” she guessed. He could tell it was a guess.

“Did we sleep yet?” he asked.

“You blacked out? No. I don’t know. Were you blacked out that entire time?” Lorelai laughed a little. It did nothing to conceal the concern evident on her face.

“Why are we in a mall?” It was eerie. They had been living like vampires, only ever among the living in the dead of night. The bright sun coming in through the skylight gave everything an unreal quality.

“I needed new sneakers. And you said you wanted to come.”

“I don’t think I would say that.”

“I swore you did.”

Her eyes were bloodshot. He was starting to get freaked out. They carried on throughout the mall anyway, the sneakers having not yet been acquired. He sipped idly at the blue razz slushie that was already in his hand — he was pretty sure he wouldn’t have got that, either. Just carrying it made him feel like a dickhead. It tasted decent, though. The sugar helped. Water probably would’ve been better.

“Oh what the fuck.” He squinted as the aura hit him again. 

He looked up to see Johanna walking by on one of the upper balconies. As if she could sense his eyes on her, she spun around on her heel to look. Her initial reaction was instantaneous, so easy to miss, but it was surprise. Or at least the mockery of it. She hadn’t even been hunting. Just bad fucking luck.

“Your Highness!” She broke into a grin, yelling loud enough for everyone in a two block radius to hear. “We can’t keep meeting like this!”

Johanna leapt down from the balcony, the whole story. She did an — admittedly beautiful — tuck and roll to avoid absorbing the fall’s shock. Why bother? Even if she had broken her ankles, they’d heal in two seconds.  

Lorelai bolted just as soon as she’d heard the voice. He realized she didn’t have the gun on her, remembered he didn’t have his sword. Johanna had the damn sword; he’d left it in her chest. He took off too, not knowing where they were going. Lorelai seemed a little more there than he was. She might at least remember where the ship had been parked. 

Something exploded loudly. He dropped via trained reflex, tugging Lorelai down with him. It’d been the right call. Large pieces of shrapnel flew right over their heads. 

“What the hell?” Lorelai whined, stretching out the syllables, “Was that for us?”

Johanna limped forward, carrying the smell of smoke. A piece of pipe hung out of her shoulder. Her glistening blood coated her shirt.

“That one was for me, actually.” The smile she wore then was not the same one it had been a few moments ago.

Lorelai scrambled back to her feet, taking off again. Paris’s own curiosity slowed him. He looked in the direction of the explosion, the same direction Johanna had come from, but it was clear she hadn’t caused it. A few people circled behind her, prowling. They had guns. What the fuck kind of mall was this? They seemed to know her pretty well. She shot him a last look, seething, smirking. Saved by the bell. She turned to face them instead.

He knew if they shot her and missed, it’d go straight into him instead. That was just the kind of day he was having. He hurried himself out of their sightline. Another explosion went off. 

My name is Johanna, she had said so proudly the first time they met. Was he actually supposed to know what that meant? Someone with a lot of explosives did. He made it outside. Lorelai honked the ship’s horn, beckoning him over. He crawled into the passenger’s seat.

“What even was that? Right?” Lorelai wrinkled her nose. “I don’t like her.”

“I literally don’t know what the fuck is going on right now?” he said.

==============

But he was fighting her again. He’d just taken something, he didn’t remember what. It made him faster, made him hit harder, made him fucking terrified with such a deep sense of foreboding he was sure he was about to die. Not that Jo would let him. That obviously wasn’t what she wanted.

He knew he was kind of losing it. If he’d ever snapped like this in the field, he’d have already been pinned down and sedated. He wasn’t sure if that had ever happened or not — it seemed plausible, though when the thought entered his head there was no specific memory he could attach it too. He could not attach anything at all to Johanna. She wasn’t a girl. She wasn’t even a person. She was blight. She twisted all about him like she was made of air and smoke. He had trouble holding her at all. 

He had the sword again. She’d brought it back to him. She had meant to threaten him with it, but he’d managed to wrestle it out of her hands. In an act of manic desperation, he cut straight through the bone of her arm, severing the limb. He did not think much of it at the time. It was simply a thing you could do to a body, among many other things you could do to a body. Maybe he’d just been curious. Nothing else seemed to work.

==============

Again. He didn’t know how much time had passed, but he knew he’d fucked this one up severely. Johanna’s freshly grown hand was curled up in a fist in his hair. The other twirled the knife. He recognized, distantly, that it was a collector’s item. He’d had one just like it. One of her knees was planted on his elbow, the other on his chest, one boot planted firmly on the wrist of his opposite arm. She gave the knife a little toss in the air, catching it deftly, taking her time. She placed the knife’s edge right by the skin of his shoulder and did not wait a second before slicing it open. He writhed. It didn’t do any good.

“Stop,” he said, “stop stop stop stop stop s”

It cut in half an inch below the surface. He could tell she had hit muscle. His arm twitched involuntarily even as it was held in place.

“top stop stop stop stop stop stop stop st”

Johanna laughed. She pulled the knife out before it could reach bone. He had never seen blood gush that way before. He thought it only did that in horror movies. She winked at him. Just kidding. She went back to spinning the blade between her fingers. It moved like she had it on a string.

“Did you even feel that?” She asked. “You didn’t, did you? Oh, I’ve got to try it again when you’re sober. That’s not fair.”

===========

He blinked. Back in the passenger seat. His arm was bandaged around the shoulder. Lorelai was covered in blood. None of it was her own.

“Thanks,” Paris said numbly, filling in the blanks.

“Don’t mention it.”

He looked out the window and into the vastness of space. He still couldn’t figure out what time it was. He reached into his pocket and was relieved to find his vape was still there. It was the only constant in his life.

“I think we should blow up her ship,” he suggested.

“How?”

“I don’t know. Don’t you know any bomb recipes? I thought you were a radical.”

“Not off the top of my head. Don’t you?”

“I should, right? Like, I swear I learned them at some point. I think I have legitimate fucking brain damage. I’m not even kidding.”

“No, I think that’s true. You’ve been hitting your head a lot.”

“I meant from the alcoholism, but yeah. Probably both.”

“Oh.” She frowned. 

It was the first time he’d ever called it that. He thought it was a bit unfair to scapegoat alcohol specifically, considering all the other shit he was putting into his body. But that was simply what came to mind first. He hit the vape.

“I’m going to pass out,” he informed her.

“You’ve been meaning to do that. You know-“

He did not hear the end of the sentence.

…………

tags:

@catnykit @snakebites-and-ink @vivulapom @scoundrelwithboba @whatwhump

@pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @fuckass1000 @fuckcapitalismasshole @defire

@micechomper @writereleaserepeat @aloafofbreadwithanxiety

[let-them-read-fics]

Cloud Nine

Pairing: Dami x Fem!8thMember!Reader

Warnings / Misc. -- Smut, Public Sex, A Little Fluff

Word Count: 3,218

Summary: With the next leg of tour in full swing and lots of places to be, you’re inevitably faced with a daunting red eye flight. Dami – paired with you for the ride – attempts to make the best out of a bad situation.

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: The NDA cover that Dami did with Yooh... dear god, does it have a hold on me. Anyways 🤠 I hope you enjoy this piece! Let me know what you think, and don’t forget to drink some water today! :)

◂ ❚ ⊱ꕥ⊰ ❚ ▸◂ ❚ ⊱ꕥ⊰ ❚ ▸◂ ❚ ⊱ꕥ⊰ ❚ ▸◂ ❚ ⊱ꕥ⊰ ❚

The ambience of planes has never once failed to fascinate you. 

So many people, so many stories, mingling and intersecting for a point in time that some would remember forever and others would rather choose to forget. Children, adults; first time flyers, seasoned vets. Some having the best day of their lives while others were experiencing their worst. 

A bunch of shooting stars converging, waiting to pass one another for what was likely the first and last time. 

With so much… humanity… packed into one space, your mind tended to give into the romantics. It made you feel small, in the grand scheme of things, but just as important all the same. Every unique experience being lived around you could come together to share this one, unifying moment. 

Well, perhaps calling it a “moment” would understate the grueling twelve hour journey you were embarking on…

But regardlessly, within that, you found true beauty. 

-

The thing to break you from your pleasant reverie was the hushed sound of an attendant’s voice over the intercom, providing a time check and announcing that the cart of refreshments would be brought around shortly. 

You peeked out of the window at your side, taking one last look at the velvety night sky before pulling the cover down and turning away. 

Dami’s eyes were shut and her arms were crossed at her chest; she was resting peacefully, just like a majority of the other travelers. The personal lights above everyone’s seats were all dimmed, basking the cabin in comfortable darkness. Some passengers employed the use of the small televisions mounted against the backs of the seats in front of them, and sparse illumination came from others that were on their phones or tablets as well. 

But for the most part, the darkness won out. 

You watched as a few people woke up, some on their own and others prompted by a jab from their friends or family sitting next to them. They wiped the sleep from their eyes and stretched, reaching down to retrieve their wallets from their carry-ons so that they could buy some snacks. 

You pondered for a moment, deciding on whether or not you should wake Dami up. She looked far too comfortable for you to do so and keep a clear conscience, and you knew she needed the rest anyway; the first few stops of the tour had drained her a bit more than she had prepared for. 

So you resolved to buy something for her instead. You already knew the foods that she preferred, after all, and she could eat them whenever she naturally woke up. It was a win-win in your mind.

Upon rifling through your bag and grabbing some of the cash you had stashed away, you took a second to admire her. The curve of her face was visible in the low light, soft and as pretty as always, and a small pout pulled at her lips, making her cheeks puff out slightly. It truly took every ounce of self control you possessed to refrain from poking them; but you prevailed in the end. 

Her chest rose and fell softly, lulled and gentle like waves lapping on a shore. It brought you comfort just seeing her like that, so cozy and peaceful. She deserved every second of it. 

“Miss?” An approaching, hushed voice asked, addressing you. 

You raised your head and were met with a pleasant smile from one of the attendants. The aisle’s sidelights were on at her feet, ensuring that her movements were well guided. 

“Would you like some refreshments?” She pulled the cart into view and pressed a button, turning the lights of it on so that you could see what each tier had to offer. 

You made quick work of choosing and paying, and before long she was quietly thanking you and handing over all of your goodies. Once you successfully got them all and unlocked the small tray attached to the seat in front of you, you pulled it down over your lap and laid everything out to sort. 

A minute or so later, once your work was done, you sat back with a happy sigh and snuck a glance at Dami. 

Although you had failed to notice it in your previously busy state, it became apparent that she had shifted closer to you. She was curled up a little more, and turned on her side, facing you. It awarded you a perfect vantage point for viewing the subtle smile on her lips; clearly whatever she was dreaming about was good, and that made you happy. 

One of her hands had fallen onto the armrest, with her palm upturned towards the ceiling. It peeked out of her sweater paw, tempting you. 

You succumbed to your weakness and reached over, carefully intertwining your fingers with her own. 

She reacted on instinct, still fully asleep; her hand curled into your slightly warmer one, and a quiet noise of contentment left her. She moved closer once again, and before you knew it her head had found its way to your shoulder, nestling there. Her warm breath fanned out across your neck, almost tickling. 

Snacking, you decided, could wait a while. Sleep was creeping up on you, anyway, and moving was no longer an option. 

You eased your head down atop hers and settled a little more in the seat, getting comfortable for the both of you. Your eyes fluttered shut as the smell of her shampoo washed over you, and you gently rubbed your cheek against her soft hair, allowing sleep to begin dragging you under. 

—

When you awoke a few hours later, things in the cabin were slightly busier than before. A few more people had rejoined the world of the conscious, and glimmers of hazy, early morning sunlight attempted to shine their way in through the plane’s oval windows. 

The tray across your lap had been cleared off and returned to its vertical position, providing room for you to comfortably move around and stretch the tension from your muscles. A blanket was draped over your body as well, courtesy of Dami. 

You blinked the sleep from your eyes and lifted your head from her shoulder, finding that somewhere along the way you had traded positions with her. She looked over at you, and her face neared yours in the process. 

“Sleep well, baby?” She smiled sweetly, pushing her glasses up a little higher on the bridge of her nose. 

You nodded, still not fully alert yet. The fog of sleep weighed heavily on your mind and clouded your senses. Perhaps that explained why when you felt something soft and warm against your thigh, tucked away beneath the blanket, you didn’t immediately register it as her hand. 

You peeked over at her illuminated phone screen and discovered that she was in the middle of reading a book. 

“How long have you been up?” The question came out as a groggy mumble.

Judging by the opened bag of gummies tucked away in her seat pocket, you guessed it had been at least a few minutes. You were glad to know that she liked what you got her.

Her lips pursed in thought. “Not long. Maybe half an hour or so.”

“Good. I know you needed it.”

“Yeah?” She grinned. “You were out like a light, too, you know.” 

Your face twisted into an anticipatory grimace at that. “Did I snore?”

Her head shook lightly as she removed her glasses and put them in her bag, and you visibly relaxed. 

“No, sweetheart. But you did get a little fidgety,” she revealed. “I was afraid you were having a nightmare.”

“What made you think that?”

She shot a quick glance around before moving a little closer to you. “Well, for one, you kept saying my name. And it sounded desperate, too, like something big was about to happen.”

Warmth rushed to your cheeks as her explanation sent realization crashing down onto you. 

“And you squirmed in your seat, too,” she continued, seemingly oblivious to your embarrassment. 

“But when I touched you, you stopped.” She shrugged, and the movement caused her hand to move a little. Her knuckles brushed against your center, just light enough to draw your attention. 

“Dami…” you started, before lowering your voice a bit more to spare your own pride, “...I don’t think that was a nightmare.”

When you pulled away enough to get a good look at her face, you witnessed a sinister change take place. 

“No?” She toyed, using the lilt in her voice to further tease you. “What else could it have been, then?” The innocence in her smile disappeared, opting instead to rebrand itself as arrogance. 

“You already know,” you muttered, blushing a little harder and turning your head away. 

Although things in the cabin were more active than before, concealment and deniability were made available by the relative darkness that still remained. It was a decent remedy for your shyness, and you silently thanked your lucky stars for it. 

And, for what it was worth, Dami was making sure to keep her voice hushed and her movements covered. Her aim wasn’t to make this unenjoyable for you; she just simply lived for teasing you every now and again… and she couldn’t deny that the thought of public play with you did something to her. 

“Mmm,” she hummed, unconvinced. “I don’t think I do, jagi. You’ll have to tell me.”

Her hand worked a little higher on your thigh, caressing the sensitive skin there. Hidden desire guided it, leading her to pull your legs apart a little more and grant herself better access. 

But you stopped her, quickly encircling your fingers around her wrist and preventing her from continuing. 

“Don’t start something that we can’t finish.”

She chuckled to herself at that. 

“Who says we can’t?” She asked, entirely serious, as she brought her face near yours again. Her eyes flitted across your features, taking their time to study them before eventually falling to your lips. Her tongue unconsciously poked out and slid across her own. 

“That bathroom is not big enough for us to fuck in.” You asserted.

“I can make you cum right here, Y/N/N. No need to even get up.” She stated lowly, her deep voice full of husky confidence. You drew in a sharp breath at her forwardness, and she noticed the change. 

When you shied away again, she took the opportunity to lean in and press a kiss to your neck. Her lips were pillowy against your sensitive skin – soft enough to tickle, even, had the stifling tension between you been absent. 

Warmth radiated from her, beaconing you closer. She was right there. She wanted you. She could take you in under five minutes, too, probably, considering how worked up you were already becoming. She could make you feel so good…

Who were you to deny yourself something so perfect?

Your grip on her wrist loosened, slowly but surely, as you handed control back over to her and submitted to whatever fate she had planned. 

She kissed the area just below your jawline while simultaneously spreading your legs apart again. Their innocent trembling was obvious – you were inexperienced with sex in this sort of setting – but it only made her smile and fall for you a little more.

"You're precious, jagi," she complimented. "I've got you; don't worry. Just let me help," she coaxed, kissing you again between the words. She switched hands in order to offer a better angle, and you sighed helplessly at the feeling of her fingers fully rubbing up and down your clothed center. 

“Go slow,” you pleaded, briefly peering over her shoulder. 

Relaxed movements would be easier to cover up if you got caught. 

The upturn of her lips against your neck was obvious. “Remember this moment when you’re begging me to speed up,” she teased. 

“Just shut up and fuck me.”

She tutted, “You know, maybe you need another nap–”

“Yubin.” Your voice was sharp, full of warning. The two of you truly bickered like a married couple sometimes. 

“Alright, Y/N/N,” she giggled a little against your skin, and you felt a small smile growing on your face, too, in time with the roll of your eyes. 

Her hand finally slid into your panties, putting distance between your wet skin and the ruined material. When her fingertips parted your folds, she felt just how much arousal awaited her; a quiet, surprised groan slipped out of her mouth at the sensation, and you blushed a little harder in response. She tended to be the quiet type during sex, so even the most subtle of her sounds made your heart pump a bit faster. 

“I knew you’d be wet, but this much?” She whispered breathlessly, sounding amazed as she collected more of your slick and circled your clit with her thumb. She toyed with you, fully enjoying the way your body responded so easily to her. 

“All your fault.” You struggled out. 

Without any further warning, two of her fingers slid into your entrance. 

Your walls fluttered in response, enveloping them in their warmth in an attempt to coax them in further. One of your hands instinctively reached out and tangled in the front of her shirt, pulling her in, and the other grasped helplessly at the armrest that it laid across. 

“Still so tight, Y/N,” she sighed at how soft you were – how smooth. Her fingers pulled out almost completely, curling on their way, before she eased them back in. She wanted so badly to see you spread out, dripping for her; but she settled, opting instead to focus on every little movement and sound you made as her mind filled itself with images.

A slow grind took control of your hips, aiming to lessen the ache. The motion brought her palm into contact with your swollen clit, and when she noticed, she decided to help. She rubbed it, applying a delicious kind of pressure that made your legs shake a little. 

Her free hand grabbed your chin and turned your head, forcing you to look at her. Through the dark, she watched your brows knit together in pleasure. Before you had the chance to bite your lip, you felt hers sliding across it, trapping it between her own. 

She kissed you passionately, greedily swallowing up the moan that you let out into her mouth and adding the smallest bit of speed to her movements. 

The seat made a squeak beneath you – a product of your grinding growing sloppy. Your fingers weakly tightened in her shirt as you fought your inhibitions; it felt too good to stop or slow down, but you ran the risk of selling yourselves out at this rate. 

She bit your lip and pulled away, allowing you a moment to breathe. 

“Yu–”

Her name cut off abruptly in your throat when her fingers went even deeper, brushing up against your most sensitive spot in the process. Your thighs clamped around her hand in a desperate attempt to keep her in place and prevent her from slipping away.

“Fuck,” she cursed harshly. “You’re doing so well, baby.”

You pulsed around her at that, and both of you felt it. Sensuality ruled her every move, commanding them just as she commanded your body; but beyond it – beyond that languid, brewing passion – a real sense of need reigned supreme. She was just as desperate to get you to your high as you were to reach it. 

Nothing was capable of turning her on as much as watching you come undone for her. The idea alone added a certain, sudden roughness to her movements that had your stomach flipping in excitement. 

A kind of turbulence that you never wanted to end. 

“Just a–” you sighed, biting back another moan, “...a little more. I’m getting close.”

She took your plea as an order, not stopping for a second. It was hard to restrain herself, but she fought against her more primal urge to pound into you. The tenderness was a nice change, she supposed, as you turned your head further to the side and the warm, flushed skin of your cheek pressed to hers. Your every subsequent whimper and whine traveled right to her ear – the most alluring kind of music.

How could you be so perfect?

“Come on, pretty girl. Make a mess for me.” She commanded lowly, feeling you teeter on the edge of ecstasy. The blanket barely covered her wanton ministrations now. 

Somewhere ahead, further up the aisle, a man stood up from his seat. You could see it through the tiny gaps in between the chairs – small flashes of motion that indicated he was turning your way. 

It sent an icy streak of panic through you, but, oddly, your body couldn’t stop. Though your mind was pleading to wait – to still Dami’s hand until the potential crisis was averted – your desire overruled it. You grabbed her wrist again, encouraging her to quicken her pace. 

She raised a brow, looking between you and the approaching man. He was on his way to the restroom that resided a few rows behind you, she deduced. 

“Baby…”

“Just keep going,” you whined, trembling. 

She nodded and obediently followed your instructions. 

Though being caught wasn’t something you necessarily wanted, the thrill of it brought on an undeniably arousing kind of shame. 

Dami’s red cheeks would sell you out immediately, despite the futile excuse her kiss-bitten lips would still attempt to make. Your flushed skin and mussed clothes would further incriminate you, only worsened by her hand in your pants. 

Truly, the risky environment excited you far more than you cared to admit. To know that she wanted you so badly in that moment that she didn’t care who knew – who saw – pushed you further and further towards the edge. 

The passenger grew increasingly closer – now just a matter of a two or three rows away as he tiredly shuffled his way down the narrow walkway. He greeted a stray few people all the while, bidding them hello. 

Dami leaned into you, pressing her lips to your neck. She kissed and sucked at the skin just below your pulsepoint, leaving a mark for you to admire later. She sped up her movements inside of you and eagerly rubbed your aching clit.

“Yubin, I’m–” you struggled out, tightly shutting your eyes. 

“Cum, baby,” she directed. 

Unable to hold out any longer, you let yourself go, falling into paradise. You sunk your teeth into her shoulder to muffle your whines, and she herself moaned at the sensation. 

The man passed by mere seconds after, obliviously nodding in your direction as his eyes sought yours in the dark. 

Your body was still tingling as it recovered from the high of your orgasm.

“Morning, ladies,” he said. 

“Morning,” you both responded in unison, sounding so out of breath it made you laugh together afterward. 

Once he had officially disappeared, you kissed the bite mark on Dami's shoulder as a silent way of apologizing. She smiled as she eased her fingers out of you, making more of a mess in your panties on the way. 

“Told you I could get you off,” she whispered through a grin, and kissed your cheek. 

You’d never been quite so grateful for the dark.