#I know you only requested sick!reader but I couldn't help but throw in a little bit of sick!Johnny at the end there 😳

[kumquats-are-gay]

I require johnny fluff! (This is a stick up🔫) maybe with a reader who's sick/tired/injured etc

OH SHIT- ✋😨🤚

But YAYAYAY!! Tysm for giving me something! I wasn't super hopeful that I'd actually receive anything, but this and the other prompt I got have made me so happy :'] thank you thank you!!!

I planned on writing these as short little blurbs but ofc I went and got carried away. AGAIN. Go figure, lol. Anyway, I hope you like it! :D

(THIS WAS SUCH A CUTE IDEA BTW)

Johnny Cage x Reader (SFW)

Tags: no use of Y/N, gn!reader, sick!reader, sick fic, flirting, established relationship, directly pasted from Google Docs (forgive weird formatting), Johnny takes great care of you <3

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51606256

You had been out with Johnny on a date, enjoying each other’s company as the two of you walked hand-in-hand down the pavement. Everything was perfectly fine when you guys had first left: the crisp autumn air was refreshing, and little made you happier than getting to spend time with your partner. However, whatever it was you had come down with hadn’t taken long to make itself known. About half an hour into your outing, you began to feel a little clammy. At first, you had just chalked it up to the cool weather giving you the chills, but the vertigo that checked in shortly thereafter quickly changed your mind. Like hell you were going to say anything about it, though; you didn’t want Johnny to worry. So, you bit your lip and got a grip, hoping to bear through it…until you couldn’t anymore. Mumbling a weary, “I think…I’m going to pass out,” you immediately collapsed. Johnny’s reflexes were sharp, thankfully; he reached out and grabbed you before you could hit the ground.

Johnny carries you back to the car, drives home, then carries you inside the house. All the while he’s transporting you to bed, you have your face buried in his chest, weakly groaning.

He helps you remove your damp clothes before he slips a soft t-shirt over your head, which is followed by a pair of pajama bottoms being gently pulled up your legs. You’re barely able to stand, so he lays you down in the bed, literally tucking you in as he pushes the sheets in around your body. Apparently, you had made this process rather difficult; you kept feebly tugging at his arm and whining for him “not to go”. He had to continuously reassure you that he wasn’t going anywhere. “Nooo,” you had whined, “don’ leave the bed.”

He rolls his eyes affectionately and continues fussing over you, constantly touching your forehead and repositioning the blankets. You whine again as Johnny moves away, and he’s trying very hard not to give into your pleas; he needs to go get some things so that he can properly take care of you, damn it!

You just keep making those adorable little whimpering noises, though, seemingly having given up on words, and he can’t help but pivot his head to look at you. He sees you reaching out with pitiful grabby-hands, pouting adorably, and—oh, fuck it.

Johnny relents, already making his way back to you as he asks, “What about the things you’re gonna need? Water? Advil?”

You wrap your arms and legs around him like an octopus the moment he settles in next to you. “Don’eed that; jus’ need you,” you grumble against his neck. Johnny huffs in amusement, but underneath the surface, his heart is swelling with affection. When he feels you shiver against him, he knows he won’t get anywhere if he tries to get up to grab another blanket for you. Instead, he just holds you closer and pulls the duvet further up. He runs his hands through your sweaty hair, unbothered.

“Alright, honey, try to get some rest now, alright?” he says and kisses your forehead. You don’t need to be told twice; within minutes, you’re out like a light. A smile tugs at the corner of Johnny’s mouth while he gazes down at you. It truly didn’t matter whether you were all dressed up and confidently strutting about, or if you were sweating bullets through a baggy t-shirt and whining for him to hold you—Johnny always saw you as nothing short of amazing, and he’d take care of you for as long as you needed, any time you needed.

~~~

Barely a week had passed since you had first fallen ill. You had nearly made a full recovery by this point and you were feeling like a brand new person. It was in no small thanks to your boyfriend, Johnny, who tended to you every step of the way. Nothing was too big of an ask for him, though you tried not to be a bother if you could help it. He insisted that you weren’t, though, which made you feel a bit better about it.

The only times he left your side were when you really needed something. Otherwise, he was just as glued to you as you were to him, calling into work and everything to ensure that he could be there for you around the clock.

You sighed and smiled at his sleeping figure—his hair was sticking out this way and that, and the bedhead alone was enough to make you giggle. This slightly roused him from his sleep, causing him to mumble something incoherent as he pulled you against him. Your smile only grew; he was so goddamn cute. “I’m sorry, did I wake you up?” you whispered.

Johnny shakes his head and mumbles, “Nah, you’re good.” He pulls you even closer and releases a long, tired exhale. Unable to help yourself, you reach out to scratch at his scalp which elicits a pleased hum from your boyfriend. “Y’know, I think I might be getting sick,” he suddenly claims. You frown and immediately move the hand in his hair to his forehead, which causes him to grouse in disappointment. Your brow furrowed in confusion; he was slightly warmer than usual, but you wouldn’t call it a fever.

“Are you sure?” you ask, looking at him quizzically. He lazily grabs your hand and drags it back to his scalp. You take the hint and continue the task of brushing your fingers soothingly through his sandy locks.

Johnny practically purred at the sensation. The pleasurable feeling of your nails lightly dragging across his skull caused him to slur his words a bit. “Hmm, yeah,” he spoke through the haze, “real sick, but I heard a kiss c’n make you feel a lot better…”

Understanding his game now, you asked him in a tone dripping with suspicion, “Oh, really? That so?” Johnny just answered with an unconvincing ‘mmmmm-hm’ as he continued to revel in your touch. “Alright,” you acquiesced, and pressed your lips to his forehead. “Feel any better?”

“Hmm, I think I need another one for the effects to kick in,” he idly insisted. You could hear the smile in his voice, though, a clear indication that he was obviously bullshitting. You continued to entertain him anyway by giving him another kiss, this time on his cheek.

“How about now?” you pressed, though you already knew the answer.

“One more should do the trick,” he lilted, the cheeky bastard. You outright laughed this time before moving in for the final kiss. Johnny lifted his head at the last moment, surprising you a bit as he captured your mouth with his own this time. The two of you became entangled in an impromptu makeout session as you lost yourselves to each other. That is until Johnny suddenly pushed you away so he could cough into his elbow. He sounded like he was hacking up a lung. The heat that was beginning to gather in your body immediately fizzled out as worry swiftly took its place.

“Hey, are you alright?” you asked with genuine concern. He held up his index finger as if to say ‘one moment’ while he finished his coughing fit. At the end, he took a deep breath and pressed his palm to his forehead as his face twisted into a grimace.

“Ah, fuck…” Johnny sighed before he flopped back onto the mattress. “Okay, nevermind—I think I might actually be sick.”

You shook your head fondly. “Well, it’s a good thing you have me then, huh?”

Johnny smiles up at you in earnest and reaches for the hand that had long since stopped its ministrations, but he just holds it in his own this time. “I couldn’t be luckier.”

[willaferrreyra]

first date movies — neil lewis x reader

word count: 2.9k (oops this was….way longer than i thought)

contains: SMUT (18+ ONLY) —> fingering, oral (m receiving), public indecency (getting it on in a movie theater because…it’s neil), fluff, happy ending!

you have a crush on your coworker and you really wish you didn’t.

note: this has not been proofread so place excuse any typos! i hope you enjoy especially since this is my first smut fic on this account which is insane. also all of the movies referenced are some of my favorites so…..i’d absolutely recommend them if you haven’t seen them already! neil is my silly little movie buff husband and i’d absolutely LOVE to write for him again so please leave some feedback if you’d like more!

cillian taglist: @mortylover

As you stood on a step stool, shelving new video arrivals, you could hear Ingrid Bergman's lovely Swedish accent behind you.

Notorious. You'd seen it a million times but you'd never gotten sick of it. It was your favorite Hitchcock and often the movie you'd throw on if you were in need of comfort. Although it was your turn to pick what everyone watched at the video store today, you weren't sitting with everyone else on the big worn out sofa. You preferred to shelve and enjoy the sound of the movies in the background (maybe walking over when your favorite scene was on). After all, someone needed to help the customers even if you didn't have many.

You had an annoying habit of reciting movie lines that you loved, as did Neil, the owner of the store and one of your closest friends.

"This is a very strange love affair," you said with Ingrid as you placed Valley of the Dolls in its right place.

"Why?" Neil said right along with Cary Grant, glancing over at you.

"Maybe the fact that you don't love me," you shot him a dramatic look, trying to do your best Ingrid Bergman impression.

"Your Bergman should be better for someone who's seen this movie more times than she can count," he said.

You rolled your eyes.

"She's got a unique accent! Plus it's very transatlantic. That's hard."

"She can do the Fargo accent," your other coworker Jonathan pointed out, not bothering to look up from the TV.

"Oh, you betcha," you grinned, nailing the unmistakable Minnesotan "o" sound.

"That's not hard!" Neil protested.

"It's not easy!"

The doors jingled as your best friend walked through the door, cutting the discussion about accents short. Before you could even say anything she already had a request.

"First date movie. Help."

You thought for a minute.

"Well what's the person like?"

"I don't know! I haven't met him yet. This is a blind setup by a coworker thing."

"Do you....think you'll be paying attention to the movie?"

She made a face.

"Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?"

"Not necessarily! You could be....talking."

After many failed dates with guys who were into film, you understood the complexities of picking the first date movie. It said a lot about a person — what they're into, how they feel, who they aspire to be. But at the end of the day, it needs to be something that can transition to being background noise for a good make out session while still being enjoyable. Very few movies check all of those boxes.

"Just don't give me anything too complicated, okay?" she sighed. "No Lynch. No Cronenberg."

You fake frowned. "I was just gonna rent Crash and Lost Highway to you as a double feature."

She shuddered as she remembered the horror that was watching both of those films. You could stomach things like that but she absolutely couldn't.

"Okay, sit tight. I have a thought," you said as you ran over to the romances.

Your friend wandered over to the TV while you hunted for her perfect first date movie.

"Hey guys," she said monotonously.

"Hey," they replied equally unenthused.

She stood and watched the movie for a minute before you came back holding Moonstruck.

"Cher. Nic Cage. Romantic. Easy to follow. It checks every box!"

"That's your idea of a first date movie?" Neil scoffed.

"What's yours? The Seventh Seal?" you rolled your eyes.

"Yeah, that's why Denise broke up with him," Jonathan replied.

"What? You didn't tell me that!"

"Well it kind of just happened," he said. "And to be honest I'm not so broken up about it."

After knowing Neil a while, you knew that he wasn't one for consistent steady girlfriends. Denise lasted longer than most, but in the end he always seemed to get bored. Sure, he got around to an extent, but it was hard for you to picture Neil Lewis truly settling down. Unless, of course, you pictured him with you — but you tried not to do that. The thought popped into your brain every once in a while but you pushed it out as soon as it arrived. You knew you'd only end up getting hurt.

"Okay, well that's good because I was wondering if you wanted to go to the movies tonight. I mean, I'm all for a good ol' post breakup pity party but I'd much rather go see The Thing on the big screen tonight."

You and Neil did your part to keep your local independent theater in business more than anyone else in town. It was a regular thing for the two of you to go see at least two movies a week, sometimes more. Sometimes Jonathan and Lucien would tag along and sometimes it was just the two of you — every time you secretly hoped that it would be just the two of you.

"Now that's a good first date movie," Jonathan said.

"The Thing for a first date?" you scrunched your nose into a face of disapproval. "You guys have no taste."

"Well good thing we're not going on a first date then," Neil said. "But yeah, I'll go with you, I'm not doing anything else. Wanna grab dinner and go straight there?"

Those words shouldn't have been such a dagger to you but they were. No shit, this wasn't a first date. He didn't need to remind you.

"Yeah, that's fine," you said, trying to mask the disappointment in your voice. "I just have a few more things to finish up here and then we can head out."

You helped your friend rent her movie and finished up your shelving duties with a little less pep in your step than usual as Neil's words played over and over again in your mind like a broken record.

Good thing we're not going on a first date then. Fuck him. It's not like he was trying to hurt you, after all he didn't know that you maybe kinda sorta liked him. But those words.....you just couldn't take your mind off of them as you mentally prepared yourself for your very clearly stated non-date.

—

A little diner by the local theater had been your spot with Neil for as long as you'd been coworkers. It had become a tradition of yours to sneak in mini bottles of booze to pour into the milkshakes, either on celebratory or wallowing in your sorrows occasions. Neil's breakup felt like a good excuse to give your shared vanilla shake deserved an extra kick, even if you were the one who really needed it.

"Is anyone looking?"

He shook his head as you poured the vodka into the glass, stirring the concoction with the straw. You didn't wait for Neil before placing your lips to the straw and downing a quarter of it all at once.

"Hey, take it easy. I thought I was the one who needed the alcohol tonight," he chuckled.

"You said it yourself, you're not upset about Denise," you said, the irritation in your voice shining through.

"Are you upset about something, then? I'm sorry I didn't really help you shelve today, I just- you know, you like to do that stuff by yourself sometimes. And you picked such a good movie I couldn't tear myself away from the screen."

It would've been easier if you had really been upset about that. You wished that you were upset about that And now half the shake was gone, everything you wanted to say was rushing to your head, and you didn't even think about what you were doing when you blurted out:

"Why can't this be a first date?"

His eyes widened as he let out a small chuckle, assuming you were kidding.

"What?"

"You heard me. Why can't this be a first date?"

As he stared back at you, you felt like you had just fucked everything up. This amazing friendship was just ruined now because you drank your boozy milkshake too fast.

"Do....do you want it to be?" he asked.

"Fuck!" you exclaimed before burying your head in your hands. "Forget I said anything. I-I drank that too fast."

"No, I....we can call this a date if you want. In fact I'd really like that."

He wasn't trying to humor you and he wasn't trying to make the situation better by saying something that he didn't mean — he was dead serious.

"Neil, don't say that if you don't mean it," you sighed. "I'm just....upset today. Don't listen to me."

He studied your face for a minute before speaking again.

"Do you remember when I interviewed you for your job?"

"Now what does that have to do with anything?"

You did, in fact, remember your Gumshoe interview very well. You had asked him if he'd ever considered doing a film noir themed commercial for the store and you'd never seen someone so excited about an idea before — you always assumed that was why you had gotten the job.

"I knew you before that, you know," he said. "I remembered you from when you used to be a customer. There was actually this one time when you had an overdue fee and I paid it for you and told the guys that I had lost the tape."

This made you smile a bit.

"Point being?"

He took a deep breath before he continued on.

"Normally when we do the interview process, we ask the same shit, you know? What's your favorite movie? Who's your favorite director? And I asked you that stuff even though I thought I already knew the answers, I remembered what you used to rent. I thought I knew you so well and then you just went totally fucking wildcard on me — and I loved it. Ever since then you've kept on surprising me and I....well, I really like that. I guess what I'm trying to say is I really like you. And I think I always have."

You stared at him wide-eyed. You had not expected your little drunken tantrum to get you a confession of feelings.

"Neil....do you know why I rented from Gumshoe all the time? I mean, I'm all for supporting the little guys, but I really went in to see you. And then I got this job and I got to know you and you weren't just the cute guy at the video store anymore, you were like....my cute friend/boss technically but I won't get into that. But I got to know you and I watched you go through all of these relationships because you get bored eventually and....I just think you might get bored with me. I'm no Katharine Ross in Butch and Sundance."

He shook his head as a smile crept across his lips.

"No, you're even more exciting than that. You're like...Barbarella or something. Queen of the galaxy."

"Barbarella's whole thing was sex appeal," you point out. "That's the whole movie."

"Sex appeal, sure. But she's also kind and interesting and witty. You've got all of that."

You took all of that as a compliment but you found yourself blushing at his mention of sex appeal.

—

When you arrived to the movie theater after finishing your meal, it seemed that you two were the only ones dying to see a John Carpenter flick on a Tuesday evening. You had your pick of seats in the empty theater.

Your non-date turned date couldn't have been going better, honestly, it made you think that you should turn to drinking more often. It fixed this problem miraculously well.

As you settled into your seats and the lights dimmed, it was clear that both of you wanted to make a move but didn't know how to do it. After all, you couldn't just go straight for unzipping his fly. Or could you? Tonight was all about confidence and he clearly liked it when you kept him on his toes. You decided to start slow, resting a hand on his thigh, letting your hand wander from there.

He looked over at you as you made contact with the bulge in his jeans. It was hard to read his expression in the dark, but you could feel that he didn't want you to stop.

"Are we really gonna do this here?" he whispered.

"We've both seen this a thousand times, I think it'll be okay if we get a little distracted," you whisper back. "U-unless you don't want—"

He cut you off with a kiss that was a long time coming. You were surprised by the sheer force of it as your tongues collided. His hand reached up to cup the side of your face as you melted into the kiss, illuminated by the glow of the silver screen. He made you feel dizzy, but in a good way.

Now, you had never been intimate in a movie theater before, but it was even more exhilarating than you could’ve imagined. As you slowly unzipped his fly, taking his length out of his jeans, you noticed that Neil wasn’t watching the movie at all. His eyes were completely focused on you.

“You’re really taking your time, aren’t you?” he whispered. He was rock hard already and you could tell that he was getting incredibly impatient. You held the base of him while you teased his tip with your tongue. Whatever composure he thought he had went out the window as he his eyes rolled back in pleasure. Based on his breathing patterns you thought he was going to come right then.

“Fuck,” he swore under his breath. “Just….just like that.”

You could feel him trembling as your tongue continued to work its swirly magic. Eventually you began to take him in your mouth completely, greeting him with the warm sensation of the back of your throat. He groaned out your name in a raspy whisper as you bobbed your head on his length. Before you knew it, you could feel a hand on your head guiding it along — his touch felt so intimate and loving, you couldn’t get enough.

“I-I’m close….I’m— fuck….I’m gonna—“

Before he could finish what he was going to say, you could feel his come coat the back of your throat. It was a warm, welcome feeling and you couldn’t wait to feel it again.

“Jesus christ,” he sat there catching his breath before turning to you. “That was….wow. You’re just…..I-Incredible.”

You smiled at the praise. It wasn’t even day that you were complimented on your blowjob skills.

Your head made its way to his shoulder as you sat side by side watching the movie. His hand began on your though but slowly because to creep it’s way up between your legs.

“Returning the favor?” you whispered, smiling softly as you glanced in his direction.

He nodded, speaking in a sultry whisper that nearly made your legs shake. “You know, you just made me feel so good….it would be a crime not to reciprocate it, don’t you think?”

You continued to rest your head on his shoulder as he slipped two fingers inside of you. You couldn’t help but notice how easily they went in — you had been soaked for hours.

“All this for me?” he chuckled. “How long have you been like this?”

“All night,” you said in between heavy breaths. “I-I’m always like this around you, Neil.”

“No way, are you really?”

His switch up from the sultry whisper to his excited tone made you giggle.

“I have….a tendency to daydream about you when I’m around you,” you explained.

His fingers found just the right spot as he continued to question you. It was becoming increasingly difficult for you to talk.

“Daydream about what specifically?”

A small whimper escaped your mouth as his fingers curled inside of you. You couldn’t even recall what you used to daydream about until it hit you.

“This…..this exact moment. I-I’ve….fuck….Ive daydreamed about this a m-million times.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked as he started to pump his fingers faster. “And how does it end?”

“I- Neil- I’m gonna—“

“How does it end, sweet girl? Tell me.”

You could barely even answer in between heavy breaths but you managed to speak up, your words intertwined with your moans.

“Y-you make….you make me come, N-Neil! I’m….right now, I’m—“

“Show me. Come for me. Show me how the daydream ends.”

And you did, trying your best to keep quiet as you came undone. You buried your face into his shoulder as you whimpered and throbbed against his fingers.

“Good girl,” he exhaled. “That’s a good girl.”

—

The next day at work, you and Neil debated what you should tell the others. To announce the relationship or keep it a secret was a heavily debated topic, but you eventually settled on keeping it to yourselves for a while before revealing it. You thought it would be nice to have something that was just yours for a while. Plus, hiding a relationship can be incredibly sexy.

As you walked into Gumshoe, you flashed a quick smile at Neil who was in his usual spot behind the counter before taking your place at the shelf.

“Hey, Jonathan,” you called over to the couch, getting his attention. “I was totally wrong. Upon my rewatch, I think that The Thing would be a great first date movie.”

“See, I told you! I told you and you never fucking listen to me,” he said. “What made you change your mind?”

You glanced over at Neil one more time. It was clear that he was thinking about last night just as much as you were.

“I don’t know…” you shrugged. “Maybe it’s Kurt Russell.”

[hyunniesgirl]

Break up with your boyfriend, I'm bored

Pairing: Seungmin x fem!reader

Summary: Seungmin knew what he wanted since the first time he laid eyes on you. The problem is that you have a boyfriend... Actually, that's not a problem for him.

Warnings: angst, cheating, Seungmin is a bit of a meanie, unprotected sex(wrap it before you tap it), oral sex(f receiving)

Words count: 4,537

>>Part 2: Leave<<

A/N: I got this idea and I couldn't take it out of my mind 😭 I suck big time at writing smut but I'll only get better by writing it so bear with me.

My requests are currently open

Seungmin's having a lot of sleepless nights lately. It usually happens when he stays for sometime out of the country and gets too used to the foreign timezone. So one night, after getting tired of tossing and turning in bed he goes to the convenience store nearby, maybe a walk and some fresh air will make him sleepy or at least he can get a beer and some snacks.

That's the first time he sees you: an absolute mess. You are studying while eating spicy noodles, lips covered in sauce, glasses slipping to the tip of your nose, white shirt stained with red drops and hair all disheveled.

For some reason he just can't avert his gaze from you. Is it because you look a total mess in public and don't seem to care? Maybe he finds that interesting, since he can't do the same.

The second time he sees you, you are all dressed up with your makeup and hair done. You're laughing while looking at something on your phone and he thinks your smile is the prettiest he has ever seen. He can't help but stare at your every movement and the way your lips move while you speak on the phone is just enticing.

He thinks of talking to you, he just doesn't know how. Seungmin is usually not the one to make the first move, he's the one who's hit on. And while thinking about how to approach you, he sees you get up and walk out of the store, would you be there the next night?

You didn't show up for almost two weeks, but he didn't give up. Seungmin went back to the store every night hoping to see you again.

When you show up once more you are not alone, there is a man with you and Seungmin doesn't like it. He has his arm over your shoulder, stealing glances at your cleavage and slipping his hand into the small of your back, touching your ass every chance he gets.

Seungmin feels strange, sick, heart beating fast and head hurting. He shouldn't be feeling this way, you never even spoke with him but he can't shake the feeling that this is unfair, he wants you for himself.

Seungmin spent the night before cooking up a plan to get acquainted with you and the best idea he had wasn't the smartest one. You are seated, studying again and he's close to you on the table the customers use to eat. He takes a deep, dramatic breath, making you look at him.

As soon as your eyes meet his, you blush instantly. It's not everyday you meet a handsome stranger in a convenience store.

It's strange though, he looks really familiar, you just can't remember where you saw him before.

"Is there something wrong?", you ask, fixing your glasses closer to your eyes, you really have to get them adjusted again since they keep slipping.

"I bought this, but I didn't like the flavor", he lifts the food. "Do you want it?", he asks, getting closer. He saw you eating one of these every time you were at the store, so he knows you like them.

"I shouldn't", you answer, shifting uncomfortably on your seat. You're a little bit embarrassed, he's dressed really nicely and you're in your sweats.

"I'll just throw it away if you don't want it", he shrugs.

You pout, thinking carefully.

"I suppose I can have it then", while you take the food, smiling awkwardly. Your fingers touch his and Seungmin has to hold his breath so he won't gasp at the warmth of your touch.

"I see you a lot here, do you live close by?" You hear him again before you can go back to your book. "I don't know a lot of people here, I just came back from the U.S." He explains after the suspicious look you gave him.

Technically he's not lying, he doesn't know a lot of people in that neighborhood and he did just come back from the U.S. You smile understanding, you don't have many friends either.

"I go to the college nearby, so I usually come here when I stay late to study", you give your hand to him so he can shake it, "I'm Y/N, by the way"

Seungmin has to think fast, you don't seem to realize who he is yet and he wants to keep it that way for now.

"You can call me Sky", he answers, shaking your hand back and you nod.

"So you're going to stay? Or are you going back overseas?", you ask, curious.

"I'm probably staying", he answers, glancing at your phone that just started ringing.

You close your book, answering the call.

"Yes baby, I'm done", you say smiling awkwardly to Seungmin. "I have to go", you whisper to him, waving goodbye.

Seungmin can barely breathe seeing you go into your boyfriend's car, he's so mad and at that moment he realize that he's completely lost.

You're so kind, your voice is so much sweeter than he thought it would be, he wants you to call him babe, he wants you to go to him, moan and scream his name, cumming and begging for him to give you the release you want.

He shakes his head, what's he even thinking about someone he just met?

You meet each other almost every night after that, it's not on purpose on your part but Seungmin is always there at the store, he helps you study, buys you snacks so you won't have to get up every time you're hungry and massage your fingers when your hands hurt because you wrote too much, with time friendship comes naturally.

When you find out he's famous you can't believe it, your friend is an actual idol? Of course, he has the looks and the talent, you often thought he should be a singer when you two went to karaoke together. You're much more into girl groups than boy groups and with college and work you were just so busy it was impossible to follow the new trends, that's why you didn't recognize him earlier.

You thought his real name was Sky till six months into your friendship, when he had to buy drinks and they asked for his ID. You stole a glance at the document and read "Kim Seungmin". You were sure you heard that name before so when you looked it up on google you freaked out storming out of the store with a confused Seungmin after you.

"Wait, what's wrong?" He asks, grabbing your arm, making you look at him. 

"Kim Seungmin?", you scoff, you're mad that he didn't tell you before, did he not trust you? You're sure it's not that, but it doesn't make you less upset.

He takes a deep breath.

"I'm sorry", he looks down massaging his eyes with the tip of his fingers, "I should have told you, I just… lost the timing"

You shake your arm out of his grasp, stepping away from him.

"I can't believe a famous person saw me on pajamas", you blush, "It's so embarrassing"

Seungmin smiles.

"You look cute in your PJ's"

"I don't!", you whisper yell at him trying not to attract attention, "I look ridiculous"

He frowns, staring at you, lips tightly together.

"Never, you would never look ridiculous, okay?"

You cross your arms, pouting. You should be the one scolding him, not the other way around.

"Can you forgive me for not telling you? Just this once?", he asks, giving you puppy eyes.

You huff.

"You're going to pay for my food every time we go out together", you answer, crossing your arms.

"I already do that", he laughs.

"Yeah, but now I won't fight with you so I can pay nor will I feel guilty about it"

"Done", he smiles and you roll your eyes, you just can't stay mad at him.

Not long after, you graduate from college. You invite him and his friends to a little celebration at your house. You live a bit far from campus in a shared apartment with your best friend who has one more year to go until she graduates.

Seungmin arrived an hour late, he and the boys got stuck in practice longer than they expected but they finally made it.

A ginger girl opens the door to the apartment, he presumes she's Soojin, your roommate.

"Hey! I'm-"

"I know who you are", the girl interrupts, looking behind Seungmin, "woah, when Y/N told me you are her friend I thought she had finally lost it, I'm glad it's not the case", she chuckles, giving space for the guests to enter.

"Minnieeeeee", Seungmin hears your voice and turns to find you, you look beautiful with your hair down, a tight black dress and no shoes, he feels jealous that the other guys can see you like that too. You stumble a bit coming in his direction, you are already drunk.

"She got an early start when that asshole called saying he won't be coming", Soojin says, rolling her eyes.

So your boyfriend couldn't make it? Too bad, he thinks.

Seungmin walks towards you, holding your arms and supporting you so you won't fall.

"Hey, congrats on finishing college", he says and you smile widely.

"Finally!"

Seungmin introduces you to the rest of the boys, they are all so handsome you almost sober up seeing their faces.

"You look even better than on YouTube", you say and they laugh.

"It's nice finally meeting you", Chan says.

"Yeah, Seungmin talked a lot about you", Lee Know smirks, glancing at Seungmin.

"Oh, I hope only good things", you look at him too.

"Oh, yeah! Especially when he's drunk-", Jeongin starts to speak but is interrupted.

"So, where are the other guests?", Seungmin asks, glaring at the boys.

"She's a loner", Soojin says and you laugh, awkwardly. "I'm her only friend"

"Well, yeah…" you admit, "but I wouldn't have invited anyone else since you're all here, I want you to be comfortable tonight"

Seungmin feels his heart beat so fast in that moment, he thinks it will burst out of his chest. He has always known how sweet you are, but now the other boys can see that you're considerate too.

"Do you like truth or dare? Let's drink!" You laugh, running to the kitchen to pour some alcohol to everyone.

He can do anything for you, be it playing a stupid drinking game or stealing you from your boyfriend.

Since you graduated you don't go to that convenience store anymore and you don't need Seungmin's help with your studies either. But you both got really attached to each other, so you start hanging out in your house or his dorm.

You go shopping together, eat delicious food, watch movies and cuddle. Sometimes you think he's much more like a boyfriend than your actual boyfriend, and you feel guilty instantly after thinking that way.

When you are not at work you are hanging out in his dorm with the other boys, talking all night long and listening to each other's worries. It's no surprise how lonely you feel since they went on tour a month ago, you can't spend time with them anymore, Soojin is having her finals and to top it off your boyfriend is getting more distant by the day.

You are finishing your work day when your phone buzzes. You walk out of the company's entrance while reading your texts.

Minnie: where are you?

You: just finished work

You: why?

You frown, this guy is somewhere in Japan right now, why does he want to know where you are?

Minnie: stop frowning, you look ugly when you do that

You: what?

You: how do you know I'm doing it?

Minnie: are you dumb, do you wanna trip?

Minnie: look ahead when you're walking

You bump into someone before you can take your eyes out of your phone and Seungmin looks at you with that familiar condescending smile.

"You!" You scream, this man is unbelievable, of course he would show up out of nowhere. "When did you get back?"

You wrap your arms around his chest, hugging him and feeling him squeezing you into his embrace.

"I came here right after we landed", he answers, looking around and making sure no one's looking at you two.

"Oh, you must be tired", you poke him in the chest, stepping away from his hug, "I don't look ugly when I'm frowning, you're such a meanie", you point it out.

"Yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night", he sighs dramatically and you have to hold yourself to not punch him. "I actually rested a lot in the flight so I'm okay"

He grabs your bag, putting it on his shoulder. "Let's go, the guys are dying to see you", he says and you smile widely.

Seungmin missed you so much he thought he would die, but just by seeing your smile it makes him feel like the happiest person alive.

"Oh, I actually have a date with my boyfriend", you take your phone out of your pocket, seeing a message from him. You sigh, "never mind, he just stood me up"

You smile at Seungmin, "I was actually going to ask for a raincheck so I could go with you, so it's all good"

Seungmin knows it's not all good, after seeing you struggle in this relationship he decided it's time for him to make a move. He doesn't care about your relationship, not that he ever did, but now it's definitive. He needs to have you.

You arrive at the dorm and find Hyunjin, Felix, Han and Jeongin playing some game you don't know the name of, trying to decide who will wash the dishes.

"You're here!", Felix gets up quickly and runs to you giving you a hug. "We missed you a lot", he says.

"I missed you all a lot too", you smile, hugging him back.

"I think that's enough touching", Seungmin put his hands between you two, coming in the middle and making Felix pout, stepping away.

"Hey!", you want to fight back but he looks at you with a raised eyebrow, daring you to oppose him. You clear your throat not sure why that look made you feel so… hot? "Where are the other guys?"

"They went to the convenience store to buy drinks and snacks"

You nod, thinking maybe you should have brought something too.

"What are we going to eat?", Seungmin asks, sitting on the sofa's arm.

"Fried chicken?", Hyunjin suggests and you nod.

"I'm in", Felix says and Han agrees.

"I'm gonna send it on the group chat so the others can give their opinions", Jeongin says, already typing on his phone.

"Sounds good to me", you poke Seungmin asking him to come closer. "Do you maybe have some clothes I could change into?" You are uncomfortable in your outside clothes and if you want to eat a lot it's going to be hard with those tight jeans.

Seungmin has to take a deep breath and make a silent prayer to any god that's listening to him so he won't get hard by the thought of you wearing his clothes. Every other day you slept in his dorm, you came prepared bringing your own clothes, so this is going to be a first.

You follow him to the bedroom, which you had been to a lot before, however for some reason the atmosphere feels different this time.

Seungmin prepares a shirt and sweatpants for you, he steps out of the room so you can change even though he really wanted to stay there and watch you strip for him.

When he sees you his heart skips a bit, he did try to prepare himself beforehand but it was just too much, so much more enticing than he expected.

He avoids your gaze, clearing his throat and telling you to go on to the living room, he will change and be there soon.

He can't help but eye fuck you the entire night, he loves when you dress up, put some tight little dress and makeup on. But there's something about the comfy you, that leaves her hair to dry naturally and wear pajamas in every opportunity she gets, that's the you that turns him on the most.

You on the other hand, don't know why he keeps staring at you like that. Although, contrary to your expectations, you don't feel uncomfortable at all with that. It's been a few months since you began having these weird feelings about Seungmin.

It all started with a wet dream you had five months ago, he was fucking you so hard in your dream that you woke up drenched. That was when you started thinking about him in that way, of course you put these thoughts aside, you have a boyfriend and Seungmin is a celebrity he can have anyone he wants so you thought it best not to entertain the idea anymore than in your dreams only.

You didn't drink much, too afraid of saying something about your strange feelings if you were not sober. You were relieved when everyone called it a night and you went to the bedroom. You have always slept with Seungmin when your thoughts were still innocent but things are different now, you're feeling different.

Taking a deep breath you begin arranging the sheets, you can just put some pillows between the two of you and you can pretend he's not right there on the same bed.

Seungmin has some different ideas, seeing how he enters the room and locks the door behind him, staring at you. His eyes are dark like you have never seen before and you feel that familiar knot grow in your lower stomach.

"What is it?", you ask and he takes a long step forward, then another and one more. He's right in front of you now, towering over you.

He lifts his hand caressing your cheek.

"I can't take it anymore", he whispers as if he talked louder someone would barge in and take you away.

"What are you talking about?", you ask, a feeling of warmth climbing up your neck and cheeks.

"Please be mine", he slides one of his hands to your waist, pulling you closer and pressing his body against yours.

"I don't understand", you say while he bends, resting his head on your shoulder.

"Let me show you? Hm? I can show you how much better I'm"

You feel your heart beat so fast and loud you almost can't hear his words.

In that moment, you understand all the looks Seungmin gave you, all the smiles and affection he had shown you. All those times he told you how you could find someone better than your boyfriend, how he got mad every time you tried to set him up with someone or even when you asked if he liked someone and he always changed the subject. It was you all along.

You don't think it through, just wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him. He can't believe you're actually doing it, that you're letting him finally taste you, you feel so good, your lips are soft just like your gentle nature.

Seungmin is surprised, he thought you would be much more reluctant and that makes him feel reassured because it means you feel something too.

His hands slide down your thighs, helping you wrap your legs around his hips. You can already feel his hard on pressing against your cunt, making you moan slightly. He lay you on the bed, playing with the waistband of your pants and pulling it down, admiring your bare legs. He takes his shirt off and unbuckles his belt, crawling close to you.

"I waited so long for this", he says, caressing your face, the picture of Seungmin with no shirt, naked chest, wearing just his loosened trousers, makes you salivate.

You don't know what to do, you're not inexperienced but for some reason you want him to be pleased with everything you do.

"You look so beautiful", he smiles, his hands caressing your stomach, going down and wandering through your thighs.

Seungmin kisses you again, sliding his right hand to your hair, pulling it slightly. You gasp not expecting it and he smirks.

"If I do anything that makes you uncomfortable you can tell me, okay?" He tells you, teasing the waistband of your underwear with his free hand, threatening to take them off. He wants to do much more than what he's planning for tonight, but he has to take it easy, he doesn't want to scare you.

"Please", you beg thinking he will stop teasing you. You never thought you could feel so needy, you're not sure if it's because of the ambiance or because it's him.

"Oh, you want me to fuck you already, right?", he asks sarcastically and you nod.

"Too bad, I had to wait a year so you'll have to wait too", he answers, kissing your stomach and going up, riding your shirt up and taking it off. You're glad you took off your bra when you were changing, because the lustful look Seungmin has staring at your breasts is to die for. He stops for a moment trying to memorize the image only looking away when you try to cover yourself, you're feeling unusually embarrassed. He grabs your arms, pushing them down and pressing it to the side of your head.

"That's not good, I need you to feel comfortable with me watching you because I like what I see", he gets closer to your face and licks your mouth, literally running his tongue over your lips as if he's marking you.

You never thought you were into this kind of thing but the way your pussy clenches around nothing and the loud moan that comes out of your mouth beg to differ.

"I love the sounds you make", he kisses your cheek and goes down to your neck biting and sucking there. "But if you don't want the others to know exactly what we are up too, you better be quiet"

"What if they catch us?", you ask, finally remembering that you're not the only ones in the house.

"I don't care", he says, releasing your arms. He slides his hands down to focus on your breasts, squeezing and pinching your nipples, making you whimper and whine.

"I don't want them to know what we're doing", you respond, questioning if this is a good idea.

"I already told you then, be quiet", he tells you, biting your breast slightly and making you squeal, exactly the opposite of what he just ordered.

Seungmin chuckles deeply, going down, he's taking his sweet time even though he knows what you want. You hold your breath when he actually takes off your underwear and looks at your cunt like it's his favorite food, licking his lips and opening your legs even wider so you can be totally exposed for him.

Seungmin licks long stripes from your entrance to your clit where he attaches his lips and sucks hungrily. He brings two fingers to your mouth and you automatically suck on it making him moan and squeeze your thighs. He brings his hand down, inserting one finger inside you, making you groan. He sighs, bringing up the hand he had on your thigh and covering your mouth before inserting another finger.

You're already feeling the tight knot in your stomach getting bigger, looking at Seungmin eating you out so lustfully don't do much to help you. He can feel your walls clenching around his fingers, he squeezes your thighs even more, rubbing his hips in the bed to ease the tension in his crotch while he sees you coming undone in his mouth.

You're absolutely wrecked, breathing heavily and with no strength left. Seungmin makes a trail of kisses from your cunt, to your stomach, in between your breasts, your neck and finally arriving at your mouth. You can taste yourself on him, making you feel more turned on.

"You taste so good", he says, licking his lips. It's such a sinful image to see Seungmin mouth covered in your juices.

"Fuck me, now", you command and even though he doesn't like taking orders that's one order he won't object to.

Lining himself on your entrance, Seungmin takes a deep breath because he's afraid he'll cum just by feeling you around him. He stares at you while entering, he wants to make sure you're enjoying it as much as him.

You have your eyes closed shut, he's bigger than you expected and it's hard to take in, even though you're so wet. You hear him groan and open your eyes, moaning just by taking a look on Seungmin's face.

His eyes are locked with yours, he's biting his lower lip so hard you're sure it will bleed any moment. You squeeze him, just so you can see his reaction and he gasps.

"Fuck", he says, between heavy breaths, "I'm already on the verge of cumming, if you do that I won't last long"

You giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck and closing the space between you, kissing him. You wrap your legs around his waist trying to restrain your moan, earning another groan from him when he hits you so deeply you want to scream, digging your fingernails on his back.

Seungmin starts thrusting in and out of you, it feels so good having you underneath him, being inside you, he wants to stay in this moment forever but his release is so close, he's not sure if he'll be able to make you cum again before he does. He slides his hand to your clit, wanting to cum with you, feeling you squeezing his cock and moaning his name.

You can already feel your second orgasm building up, trying to keep your moans in a low tone.

"I want you to say my name, yeah?" Seungmin grunts, making you feel like you could combust anytime, "moan my name", he pleads and you do it, shaking and arching underneath him, feeling in cloud nine. He doesn't take much more time to cum too, you feel the warm liquid spreading inside you and Seungmin collapses on top of you, resting his head on your chest.

You two don't say much for a few minutes, both trying to catch your breath while you play with his hair. You feel so tired you're already drifting to sleep.

"I like you", Seungmin says before you lose all consciousness, "I want to be with you", but you're already too groggy to even answer him.

Seungmin wakes up with the noises of rustling, he opens his eyes slightly seeing you zipping your pants. You have your shoulder close to your face holding your phone in your ear.

"Yes, babe. I'm on my way", he hears you say as you take a look in his direction.

Seungmin stays there, pretending to be asleep while you close the door on your way out. He feels his chest ache so much, it hurts so much he thinks his heart is actually shattering.

______________________

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[runningfrom2am]

leveling the playing field IX

summary: with nowhere else to go after getting caught cheating to help lucy gray, you both make some desperately stupid decisions.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.6k

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do, kind of). implications and mentions of abuse, so read with caution!! also a little bit of swearing but that's neither here nor there

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a/n: here we are!! 'season' two!! thanks so much for reading it and I'm SO so glad lots of people seem to love it :) if you do, please reblog it or leave your thoughts in the replies or in my inbox! i love hearing from you and talking about it so don't be a stranger !

without further adieu,, enter buzzcut coryo <3

next part

Coriolanus's stomach twisted as he could hear your screams from the hall, even though by then he was all the way on the other side of the school. He thought that was unsettling, only for them to abruptly stop just before he left. The silence that followed was so much worse. He didn't get any sleep, sitting on the roof in Grandma'ams rose garden with Tigris all night, wondering if you were dead.

He was just sick about it, even as he left the following morning, so early that the sun was yet to rise. It was a long, painful ride, and he spent the entire thing certain that you were dead. It was his fault, he had only wanted you to come with him, so he wouldn't be alone, but now he truly is alone and he won't even have you to write to back home. Regardless, he would try.

Rather than sit with the idea that it might even be pointless for him to live another day, especially with this unflattering haircut and a uniform that challenged the discomfort of the academy one, he decided to write to you on a paper he had found bunched between the train seats to ease his mind.

Y/N/N,

I hope you're reading this. I hope this gets back to you at home and finds you safe and sound, and you're sitting over your desk with a textbook open getting ready for university in the fall. That's not what's happening though, is it? You're probably dead. I probably killed you. If you are reading this in your room, or your library, or over my shoulder as I write this because you are only alive in what's left of your spirit, I hope you know that I am sorry. I did it because I wanted you with me, because in the moment I was so sure you'd be better off with me in the districts than you would be at home with your father. I think I was wrong. But I still miss you. You meant more to me than I ever told you. I guess, more than I ever told myself either until these last few weeks.

I think I heard them kill you after I left you with the Dean. If they did, boy, did you go out fighting. I always knew you would. I can't stop writing in case I never get to speak to you again. But again, maybe you're not dead, right?

Please tell me you're not dead.

Yours,

Always yours, your Coryo

He smoothes out the wrinkled sheet as he writes, hand shaking through most of it. He doesn't know if he should even bother sending it, or if he should just fold it up and throw it out the window in hopes that the message will find its way to your ghost. No, he has to send it. Otherwise he'll definitely never know, at least not for twenty years, and he couldn't bear that.

The wind hits the trees into the windows of the train as it rolls along the tracks, demanding that the branches be heard against the glass. It reminds him of you. Then again, what doesn't these days? Maybe it was just you letting him know you had read his letter, and that you forgive him. That would give him a semblance of peace for the rest of the ride.

When you woke up, it was impossible to tell what time it was. You only knew that it was dark, and your bedroom door was locked from the outside when you got up and carefully tried to open it only to be blocked by the mechanism.

"I have half the mind to agree with you on the Avox thing." You hear your dad sigh, his voice echoing from his study just down the hall. Your eyes widen and you try the knob again. Yep, still locked. "But we could always send her to Nine or Ten as a nurse. She's not staying here, that's certain."

"I don't want to push your decision, here, but she was saying she would tell everyone. She knows more than we thought, more details." Highbottom was here too, great.

"No, that's impossible. What did she say?"

"She knows we're selling, likely that you're storing it all here somewhere, and she knows it's enough to be treason. I don't know what else she knows, but it's risky business ever letting her out of that room again. The procedure might be our best option, here." You've heard enough, quickly making for your window instead. It's locked as well, but draping your old uniform over the lever gives you enough freedom to crush it with a particularly heavy, hardcover textbook without making much noise.

You change quickly, grabbing a few essentials that you could fit into your book bag, then climb out the window and slide down the back porch column before making as quiet of an escape as possible. Adrenaline carried you a few blocks away, but now, you were unsure what to do. You couldn't return, and you couldn't be seen, and you had a tragic shortage of friends at the moment. You find your feet carrying you toward the building you know Coriolanus lives in.

You're not particularly excited to see him, but with no other options, you're sure you can find it in yourself to be forgiving just this once. You could go to Sejanus's family home, but it's not far enough away, and you're not sure what his father would say. He'd probably call your dad in a second and it would all be for naught- you couldn't risk it. So, Coryo's it was.

You enter the building, walking straight for the elevator. He was in the penthouse, so you just have to hit the very top button and figure it out from there. You've never been to his home before, but he's talked about it plenty. Enough that you could find your way there, at least.

You groan when you quickly realize the elevator doesn't work, looking over at the stairs. It's a tall building, so you've got a long way to go. You wonder how he does this every day as you climb up set after set of stairs, taking note of how the walls are basically crumbling around you.

You knew he didn't have money, that he couldn't eat, but you didn't think he lived like this. No wonder he was so thin, and no wonder he still had any muscle left on his body. It was these damn stairs. That couldn't be it though, that wouldn't explain how his shoulders just seemed to go on for miles- maybe he had some kind of workout routine you never knew about.

You're drawn from your thoughts when you reach the top of the last staircase, hesitating to open the industrial looking door in front of you. Just beyond that was the front door to the Snow penthouse, and now that you're here, you're not sure what to do. Do you knock? You don't even know what time it is.

You sit by the door, deciding to think it over for a bit. It doesn't take you long to fall asleep leaning up against the wall where it meets the dusty floor.

Waking up, you're met with a gasp. "Y/N?" You blink open your eyes, seeing Tigris crouched in front of you, forehead creased with worry. "Are you okay? What are you doing here?"

"Tigris, hello." You mumble, gathering yourself to stand up as she helps you. "I, uh, I didn't know where to go, so..."

"Okay, okay. Come in for a second." She nods, holding your shoulder as she guides you back into the apartment. You squint at the sunrise through the large bay windows, she must have been on her way to work. "Can I get you anything? Some tea? You must be freezing..." She says, immediately shuffling into the kitchen.

"No, no. It's fine. Thank you, though." You insist, trying not to stare at the state the apartment has fallen into.

"Okay, well, please, take a seat. Tell me what's going on."

You nod slightly and move to sit down at their dining table where she joins you, reaching out for your hand which you gratefully take. "Did Coriolanus leave already?" You ask and she nods, giving you a sad smile.

"I must admit, I'm relieved to see you." She says, taking you by surprise. "Coryo thought you were dead. He was just so torn up about it, he said it was his fault but he wouldn't tell me why. I was expecting to see your passing in the papers this morning."

"Well, my days are numbered." You sigh, looking out the window again. The view was stunning. Maybe you would prefer a penthouse to your own large, empty feeling home. "My father and Dean Highbottom were discussing turning me into an Avox as a pity punishment, and I don't doubt that my father would rather bury me than have that on his name. I didn't stick around to hear their decision."

Tigris listens intently, squeezing your cold hands between her own. "And now, I don't know what to do. I had nowhere to go, I'm so sorry to intrude-"

"No, my goodness, please. You are always welcome here." She assured you. "But... what will you do?"

"I have to leave." You nod to yourself. "I have to leave and I can't come back, can I?"

"One day I'm sure it will be safe for you to return." She says, notably trying to put a positive spin on it. "I'll tell you what-" She stands quickly, going over to a hall closet and pulling out a large fur coat. "Take this, it can hide you and keep you warm. Take the next train to Twelve, that's where Coryo went." She places the coat in your lap. "He'll be ecstatic to have you and see that you're well."

You nod, standing up and pulling it on in a hurry. It was a beautiful coat, you could tell it was real fur. This must have belonged to one of their mothers. "Thank you, Tigris."

"There's another train headed there in about twenty minutes, if you rush you can make it. I had to check the schedule last night for him. Don't buy a ticket, just climb in a transport car from the opposite side, not the platform." She instructs you hurriedly,

You dig in your bag as you both head for the door, pulling out a handful of money and rifling through it to give some to her. You'll need some, but she will too.

"Here, Tigris. Take this." You say as she holds the door for you, and she instantly is shaking her head.

"No, no. I couldn't." She smiles awkwardly, waving a hand at you. "You'll need it more than I do, Coryo will be sending us cheques."

You smile at her understandingly, holding it out to her again. "If not for your help, then for this lovely jacket. Please take it. I insist."

Tigris sighs, taking it from your hand before pulling you into a hug which you gladly return. "Tell him we love him, okay?"

"He knows," You say, chin resting on her shoulder. "But I will."

It was dark again when your train reached its final stop, and you were curled up under the coat trying to sleep. You scramble to get up, having to bolt from the train before anyone came to unload the car.

Unfortunately, you didn't get the privilege of having a place to stay when you arrived, so once you're out of sight of the train, the best you can do is wander.

You don't have to wander long before you hear music. You didn't realize people were happy here, so the sounds of laughter and shouting and dancing coming from inside what looked to be an abandoned building made you tilt your head at the idea. Maybe you would just sit outside, around the side of the building where you won't be seen and you can listen.

You don't even get the chance to sit before you hear the singing start. It's Lucy Gray. You mentally scold yourself for not thinking of her sooner as you stand again quickly, finding yourself quite lightheaded. You must be hungry. Maybe there will be some food inside, or maybe you can find talk to Lucy Gray and maybe she'll let you stay with her. Just until you get yourself situated here.

Clutching your new coat tightly around yourself you walk in after attempting to dust off and salvage your clothes. Your favourite skirt and shoes took quite a beating throughout the day, and you're disappointed, to say the least. Hopefully Lucy Gray has a washing machine, but you doubt it. Did these people even know what a washing machine is? By the look of everyone in the room, the answer was a definite no.

Sure enough, Lucy Gray was on stage, singing her heart out. You had never seen her smile so wide, of course, and the kids surrounding her onstage were just as talented as she was at all their instruments. You've never seen live music like this before, only classical or opera where everyone sat quietly and listened until the end. This environment was entirely new to you.

Not wanting to interrupt, you wait until Lucy Gray steps offstage and her spot is replaced with a little blonde girl who couldn't have been older than ten.

"Give it up for the amazing Lucy Gray Baird!" The girl shouts into the mic, gesturing to your friend before more music started to play. "She'll be back, she's just taking a little break, but until then, you lot are stuck listenin' to me."

This is your chance. You push through the crowd and step into the hall you saw Lucy Gray go down. "Lucy Gray?" You call out hopefully, watching your step as to not roll a heel. In hindsight, these shoes were not ideal for the journey you took, but your options were limited by a time crunch.

"Lucy Gray?" You ask again, turning a corner and peeling into a large open room. It's a few moments before your eyes land on her, and she turns to face you having heard you walk in.

"Oh my days, I thought I recognized that voice!" She smiles, opening her arms and running up to you. "Y/N, my word, what are you doin' here?" Her excitement fades quickly into concern as she drops her arms from around you.

"Long story..." You chuckle nervously, pulling at your coat again as she nods for you to continue. "We got caught, for the compact. And the snakes, somehow. Coriolanus put our handkerchiefs that you used in the tank so they wouldn't attack you, I guess. I didn't know. Then they pulled us out of class the next day, he told them it was me, so then I put up a fight and they sedated me. When I woke up I was at home and they were talking about having my tongue cut out and turning me into one of those servants but I'm sure my dad would rather have me dead. So," You sigh, trying to summarize it as quickly as possible. "I ran."

Lucy Gray shook her head, mouth agape in shock at all the information she just took in. "Okay, wait... So they were going to kill you?"

You nod.

"But that teacher of yours seemed so nice."

"Sorry?"

"Yeah, he gave me some money and escorted me into the train himself."

You scoff, shaking your head. "He's never liked either of us, but that's only because I have dirt on him. I don't know what Coryo did."

"Well," Lucy Gray sighs, rubbing your shoulders gently. "I'm glad you're here. That you're safe."

"You too." You smile. "Can I just say, too, we were so proud of you. We were so lucky to be your mentors."

"I count myself the lucky one." She grins. "Let's move on, shall we? On the up and up."

"Yes, sounds lovely." You grin at her.

"Can I get you some water? Liquor? What do you need?" She asks, turning at that and going over to a bench in the middle that had a few water bottles.

"I would love some water." You breathe out, joining her and sitting down as she hands one to you.

"Lucy Gray, could I ask you for a really big favour?" You say after taking your first sip.

"Please." She nods.

"Can I stay with you?"

taglist: @kitscutie, @annaelise, @serrendiipty, @fratboyharrysgf0201, @totallynotkaibiased, @stelleduarte, @klplynn, @secretsicanthideanymore, @bejeweledreverie, @gloryekaterina, @andrewgarfieldsbitch, @queenofspades6, @pixiepopz, @pepperonipastas, @ladybug0095, @lunamothwrites, @nhlfs, @sbrewer21, @mus-tbe-a-weasley, @splxtscreen, @unclecrunkle, @karmaswitch, @sunghoonsbakery, @coconut-dreamz, @nekee-lilac02, @ooooglymoooogly, @riddlerloveb0t, @lovedbalances, @notyourwildestdream, @snowlandson-top, @too-lit-for-fanfic, @utopiakys, @deafeningballoonnacho, @roosterschanelslut, @impeterporker, @chmpgneprblem, @cosmoetik, @http-ilysm, @lauravanderbooben20, @dry0campa, @luclue, @lokidala, @urvampgfsworld, @carolanns-world, @nan-nie, @shakespearseclipse, @iovemoonyy, @notyoursweetheart-honey, @girlalwaysathome, @gingerpixiecosplay, @xyzstar, @eatpizzasass, @slytherinholland, @chess1ca, @queenofshinigamis, @elodiebeau, @soulessjourney, 

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[marvelfanfics1]

I wonder how daddy!Rafe would react after catching sick little!reader, who is supposed to be resting, out of bed and playing with their toys

Rest

Pairing: dark!daddy!rafe x little!reader

warning: age regression, dark themes, drugging

A/n: this one got a bit darker than intended but I couldn't help myself bc I actually think this is how he would handle this situation in his twisted rafe way yk?

⭒𖥸⭒

He just wants what's best for you and when the doctor says you need to rest Rafe would most definitely make you rest, if you wanted to or not.

"You stay right here while daddy's makes some calls. I warn you once, just because you're sick doesn't mean I won't punish you if you dare to leave this bed, a'ight?" He looks at you sternly, tucking you in and tries not to smile at your pouty face, your arms crossed and kicking your leg one time.

"I wanna play! The bed is boring." You cough loudly, your throat burning like hell.

"And I want you to get healthy, so you're gonna rest and take your medicine later like a good girl." There was no room for arguing and you huff, turning your back to him and grabbing your tablet.

He just shakes his head, leaning down to kiss your head before leaving the room. Once you hear the door click shut you throw the blanket off your body. You got up from the bed and walked over to the big pile of stuffies, grabbing some of them you carry them to your little table where you have all your tea parties.

Rafe should've known better. He keeps forgetting that littles mostly don't understand common sense and don't see what's good for them and what's not. That's why you don't see why you can't keep doing what you normally do in little space, not understanding that if you don't rest that your body could get even more sick.

Half an hour later, after all calls have been dealt with and made a small request to Rose, Rafe went to check on you only to find you in fact not in your bed. Even though you were facing the door you haven't noticed him yet, still babbling to your lamb.

"What exactly do you think you're doing?" Rafe asks, standing in the doorway with his hands on his hips, the frustration clear on his face.

You freeze, looking at him with wide eyes while he approaches you slowly.

"Didn't I tell you to rest? Care to explain how I find you sitting here and in fact not resting, huh?" He doesn't even give you a chance to speak, standing beside you he places his hand on your forehead and sighs loudly at feeling how your fever got worse. Suddenly you feel incredibly warm and a little dizzy.

"Don' feel good." You mumble, your body leaning against him automatically for comfort.

"Yeah, I figured that. That's what happens when you don't listen to daddy." He clicks his tongue before scooping you up, carrying you over to your bed.

Just as he lowers you down Rose walks in, holding one of your sippy cups and handing it to Rafe, looking a little concerned. "Are you sure you-"

"Thank you, Rose. I'll handle this on my way now." Rafe quickly cuts her off, shooting her a warning glare. You don't know what he means and just wave at Rose sweetly while coughing.

She just nods, giving you a small smile before walking off again, closing the door behind her.

He turns his attention back to you and smiles, holding the sippy out for you to take which you happily did, feeling how warm the cup it is. You sigh when the warm tea goes down your aching throat.

Rafe keeps brushing a hand over your hair, watching you empty the sippy and notices how your eyes already start to get droopy, trying your hardest to keep them open.

"There we go." He cooes, gently grabbing the cup and placing it on your nightstand. "How you feelin' baby?"

"M'sleepy..." You yawn, pawing at your eyes.

"That's normal. That's your body trying to help you with your fever, just close your eyes." He says, covering you with your weighted blanket before kissing your forehead.

When he pulls back again he chuckles at you already sleeping, the drugs having you completely knocked out.

"Now you'll get all the rest you need."

⭒𖥸⭒

Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @aagn360 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @fluffyblanketgecko @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse @kissforvoid

For Rafe:

@chiaraanatra

[merbear25]

hey !! can i ask -12 "If you win, I'll kiss you." with Ace , fem or gn reader swf pls ?

congrats on your 200 followers 💋💋💋!

Hey, hey! Thank you for sending in a request! So happy to write this for you and hope you like it lovely 💜💜

CW: SFW, gn!reader, some fluff and humor, drinking, reciprocated feelings

Shooting your shot

There was hardly a moment you and Ace weren't sharing a laugh together. Perhaps the only time you weren't hanging around each other was when he'd have to go off on outings, leaving you behind; he always said that it was because it would be too dangerous for someone like you, "You are just a tad too soft for them", he'd tease.

But you'd been admiring Ace for quite some time now: from his strength to his laugh, he had stolen your heart and was holding it hostage, even without him knowing it. The two of you were good friends, but it was hard for you to ignore your pining for wanting more.

During one of the many parties that were always held after a successful mission, you couldn't help watching him partake in his usual activities: fluttering between different groups of people to share jokes and stories, often with a drink and food in hand.

Pausing to take a shot to boost your chances at maintaining your newfound bravery, you let the liquid luck work its magic and worked up the courage to approach him.

Stopping in front of him, your front was starting to faulter as he beamed at you and asked how you were enjoying the party. In hopes of shoving your nerves back down, you abruptly challenged him to the drinking game that'd been set up earlier: beer darts.

Chuckling at your sudden assertiveness, he started waving it off by saying you'd make yourself sick with how many beers you'd surely have to drink.

He was unintentionally making your foundations shake and sway, so you thought it'd be best to make a wager. "If I win, then you'll have to take me on your next outing! A-and, if you win...," you paused to ponder what he could possibly want from you.

"If you win, I'll kiss you."

You shot up from hearing his suggestion, your chest heaving at the mere thought of him placing his lips against yours. "Okay, then it's a deal." The fifteen minutes began its countdown.

Positioning yourselves behind the boards, you were the first to throw a dart. However, your hand was shaking from the possibility of him kissing you, which caused you to miss horribly―practically throwing it straight down into the dirt.

Unable to hold back his amusement, he went into a slight laughing fit asking what on earth happened. Just as the dart was passing through his fingers, he caught a glimps of your flustered, pouting face, causing him to lose focus.

Luckily for you, his dart just barely missed the beer. Taking a deep breath to help calm your nerves, you became lazer focused on the can infront of you―a direct hit!

Congratulating you on being able to hit it this time, he chugged his beer down.

As the timer you'd set earlier ticked the minutes away, the two of you shared in equal wins and loses. The score was tied and there was a little over a minute left on the clock, meaning this was your last chance at pulling ahead of him. Mustering all of the might you had been clinging to throughout, not only the game but your whole friendship with him, you threw your last dart. Any hope you'd been gathering to share your first kiss was shattered as the dart made contact with the wooden board standing behind it.

Ace let out no triumphent laugh as he threw his final dart, hitting your can with ease. As the taste of defeat wet your lips, you could only feel disappointment fill your stomach.

Not wanting to face Ace due to the embarrassement washing over you, you hadn't noticed him walking towards you.

"You know, I've never been one to play by the rules," soothing your heartache by placing a kiss laced with passion, he pulled you closer to fully embrace your form.

[joshym]

Le Morte d'Arthur: Chapter 4

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Summary: It all began with a passion for literature. What was once a dream to walk the halls of the University of Michigan is now a reality.

You thought you were prepared for everything.

A new town, a new school, a new way of life,

but what you were not prepared for…

was meeting the enigma that is Jake Kiszka.

Word Count: 32.3k+ (dear lord)

Warnings: (for this chapter) please proceed with caution if you find any of the following to be triggering. MDNI 18+ ONLY struggles with body dysmorphia/eating (including food restriction & calorie counting), strong feelings of inadequacy, heavy emotions/ talks of an absent parent, *extremely* sick & terminally-ill parent, a parent in the hospital, mentions of sexually explicit scene being shot on film, anxiety/stress/depression, jealousy

SMUT-18+ ONLY: fingering & oral (f receiving), nipple stimulation, heavy petting (m receiving), possessiveness, a lot of hickeys(lol), a little praise (please let me know if i’ve missed anything)

a/n: thank you all for being so patient with me. this story is personal to me for so many reasons, & parts of it have been a little hard to write. but, they’ve begged to be written. i hope you all love it. 🤍

also, huge thank you to @jakeyt for being the best editor & my right hand in helping create this. i seriously couldn't have done it without you. love you SO much. you're the best sister i could ever ask for.

Le Morte d'Arthur Masterlist, Series Playlist

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

Christmas Eve: Cherry Tree, OK

The ground was buried under mounds of snow. A fluffy, warm blanket of the softest white, yet it froze your little fingers when you buried your hands into its inviting, bright allure. 

You were bundled so tightly in your winter ensemble that you could hardly move. Your arms were stiff as boards, impossible to lay at your sides. You begged your mom to not make you wear it outside, but she and your dad wouldn’t budge. 

“You’ll get sick.” They warned you. But you didn’t heed them. 

As soon as you were outside and safely out of their sight, you shed your pink puffer and matching mittens, throwing them in a deep bank covering the once vibrant flower beds on the side of your house and freeing yourself of their restrictions.

You’d spent what felt like hours outside in the below freezing temperatures. Intricately rounding out perfect snowballs, building the tallest snowman your six year old body could manage, creating the most heavenly snow angels. 

You hadn’t even noticed the sudden pain and tightness that had developed in your small chest, or the dry cough that accompanied it. You were too busy warding off evil snow monsters from your fort made of icey wonder.

Until you heard your first, middle and last name erupting from the opened back door. 

Your mom and dad were there, their faces as white as the snow your body plummeted towards when your small lungs became too tired to allow for another breath of air. 

You spent Christmas in the hospital that year. The whole week, actually. A collapsed lung due to pneumonia, you were told. It was the most painful thing you had yet to experience in your young life. 

But to this very day, you consider it the best Christmas you’ve ever celebrated.

Nurses and doctors showered you with all the toys your heart could ever long for. You opened gifts from your bed and enjoyed the most wonderfully terrible Christmas dinner the hospital cafeteria could offer. 

You ate more ice cream than what was truly necessary. But no one denied your incessant requests for the frozen treat.

You watched Oliver and Company countless times that week, a favorite of yours and your dads. He hated Disney movies, but he loved this one, only because of Billy Joel’s character and the classic song he featured in the film.

He loved Billy Joel. Loved him enough to sit through hours upon hours of the animated film with you. 

Neither him or your mom left your side that whole week. They didn’t even go home to sleep. They just stayed with you. 

There were no fights between your mom and dad that week. Not even one. It was the closest your little family had ever been, and would ever be again. The love you felt from your parents that week has yet to find a comparison.

Crazy as it sounds, you miss that week. You began missing it as soon as you were cleared to go home. 

Their bickering resumed almost as soon as they put you in your special, tiny wheelchair to take you to the car. Whatever magic that hospital held that forced your family to love each other in a way that was brand new to you, was lost altogether once you were wheeled out of the automatic glass doors. 

You knew, once they situated you in the back of your dads double cab, that you’d never see them love each other that way ever again. 

As the Winter thawed to a bright Spring that year, when the snow melted and ran away to the Deer in Water creek that your home stood proudly beside, so did your hopes of ever seeing your parents love you and each other the same as they had that Christmas. 

That was a time in your life when you viewed your mom and dad in the same light. A time when you didn’t hate your dad, a time when he made you believe a man could love you.

When it wasn’t just your dad that caused problems, and it wasn’t just your mom that showed you love. They both did those things.

It’s strange to think back on it all now, to think about how he’s the one that left, and she’s the one dying. (Or already dead.)

You can’t bring yourself to understand why, but that Christmas you spent in the hospital all those years ago is all that's playing in your mind as Jake is speeding to the hospital. 

He’s asked you a few times how you’re holding up, but you can’t begin to try and answer him. 

You’re unable to communicate more than a quiet nod of your head as you're staring through the tinted passengers window. 

There aren’t any tears. No lump in your throat. 

You want to cry, but you can’t. 

Your mind pleads with you to acknowledge the emotions swirling about, desperate to manifest outwardly. But despite the inner turmoil, your body refuses to show it.

You just can’t.

Everything feels numb. 

You’re not even sure if you’re breathing properly.

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

You hadn’t even realized how tightly you’d been clutching the necklace your dad gifted you  all those years  ago. It’s somehow serving as a comfort for you as you’re being driven to the hospital, even after everything he’s put you through. You find yourself running your thumb over the engraved initial, just  as you always had before he left.

As much as you’ve grown to hate him over the last year, you can’t help but wish he were here. Not being able to rely on anyone right now is…it’s fucking terrible.

Well, aside from Jake. 

He’s the last person you’d expect to be leaning on.

But it was purely an accident. Him driving you to the hospital is just a happenstance. He wouldn’t have if your stupid car hadn’t broken down (thanks, dad) and if it weren’t for that, you wouldn’t have had to get a ride from Jake in the first place.

But, you’re grateful to him right now. Grateful that he stuck around at your apartment long enough to know he needed to take you to her. 

If it weren’t for him, you’d still be stuck there desperately searching for someone to take you.

Finally, the brakes come to a screeching halt at the emergency room entrance. You absently thank him as you practically jump out of the car. 

You don’t look back, but you hear the thrumming motor of his range rover become more distant as he drives away.

You can’t bring yourself to care at this point as you’re sprinting to the front desk in search of where they’ve taken your mom. 

The young, redheaded man behind the counter with bright green eyes shielded by thick eyeglass frames looks rather shocked at your frenzied state. He’s watching you with his mouth agape, hands frozen on the keyboard of his desktop as he prepares for your inevitable arrival.

“I–I need to f– find my mom. She was just broug–” You take a second to catch your breath, still clutching your necklace for some sort of grounding. “...she was brought here by ambulance and I—” He stops you with a hand held high, asking you to slow down because he can’t comprehend your rushed words.

You can hardly even understand yourself, your voice breathy and stuttering as you’re gasping for air. But there’s no time to wait to catch it in your heaving lungs. 

“I need my mom and you need to tell me where the hell they’ve taken her. Her name is–”

“Miss,” he interupts, standing up as if to intimidate you with his much taller stature in comparison to yours. “If you can’t calm down I’ll have to ask you to leave.” His voice (that he’s clearly manipulated to sound much more threatening) echoes throughout the entire lobby as he’s looking at you as if you’re the crazy one.

This man has started copping an attitude with you that you’re in no place to put up with. You’ve backed down to people you’re entire fucking life, but right now isn’t the goddamn time.

You’ve decided to challenge him. If he wants to be loud, you can be loud right back.

Your fist pounds the counter with a force that causes everyone in the lobby of the emergency room to gasp and silence their voices. The metal container holding pens is jolted over the edge, the clipboard holding the blank paperwork for patients to fill out tumbles to the floor from the sheer amount of power behind your hand. 

There’s a stinging pain running rapidly up your arm, all the way to your shoulder, ringing through your teeth and  vibrating in your skull. 

You don’t even so much as wince from the pain.

A potential broken hand is the very least of your troubles right now.  

“She may be dying,” you scream, your first still held firm atop the white marble. “And if you don’t tell me where the fuck she is, you may have ruined the last time I’ll ever see her.”

The tears you’ve held in thus far begin flooding your face, falling like a heavy rain shower on the granite where your sore hand lies. 

Before the receptionist can start the process of having you escorted out, a tall woman dressed in a light blue set of scrubs stops him before he can make a single move. 

“Tell me her name, sweetie.” Her voice is quiet and her demeanor is calm, her wavy brown locks tied in a sleek ponytail at the bottom of her neck reminds you so much of the way your mom used to wear her hair before she got sick. 

You tell her your moms name through a shaky voice, attempting to make yourself sound more composed so you don’t get yourself kicked out of here. 

She gently moves the receptionist aside (Eric, according to the name badge clipped to the pocket of his shirt) and begins clicking the mouse around, scrunching her eyebrows in focus. 

“Here she is,” she confirms, the printer behind her humming with the physical version of what she can see on the screen. “She doesn’t have a room just yet, hun.” 

You feel defeated and useless. You’re her primary caregiver, and you can’t do your job from behind this stiff counter— not knowing where she is, how she is, what happened. So many unknowns, so much that’s completely out of your control.

You suddenly feel the intense pain radiating from your fist and you instinctively pull it close to you, clutching it tightly against your chest in hopes that pressure will alleviate just how bad it hurts.

“I’ll let you know when she gets a room. Until then, you’re welcome to wait in the lobby.” The tall nurse tells you. 

You nod your head in agreement, knowing there’s nothing you can say or do to make them move quicker. Still clutching your fist, you slowly walk away towards the stained lobby chairs and plant yourself in the one that’s closest to the counter.

You pull your phone out of your jacket pocket in search of something to distract you, but you're mortified to be met with the dead battery symbol upon trying to unlock it.

Great. Nothing to divert you from your thoughts (or the searing pain) for god knows how long. You feel the tears start to well in your sleepy eyes again, and you just decide to let them fucking fall. There’s no sense in trying to keep them in, you need to feel right now so you don’t explode again with your pent up aggression. 

Crying feels like the safest thing to do right now, and the best way to relieve some of the mental (and physical) pain. 

You let your chin fall down towards your chest, watching as the tears land on your sheer tights. You can’t help but giggle a little at how much thought you put into this outfit, only for the night to end like this. You had no way of knowing. No signs that she was doing so poorly on the night you decided to fucking leave her.

But before you have the chance to become too deep in your pity party, you hear the unmistakable sound of shuffling feet walking in your direction. You don’t bother looking up; you figure if you ignore whoever it is, they’ll also ignore you, which is exactly what you want right now. 

But ignoring them isn’t quite doing the trick. You see a pair of black sweats out of your peripheral standing near you, and as you lift your eyes a little more, you see a hand offering you a tissue. 

When you shift your watering eyes up a bit more, you realize it’s Jake.

“Wha-what are you still doing here?” You ask, the crying making your voice meak and raspy. You clear your throat as you thank him and accept his small (but rather meaningful) token. A sweet gesture that you can’t ignore. 

“I just wanted to make sure you found her okay,” he says while settling down in the seat on your left. “And I couldn’t leave knowing you don’t have a way home tonight. This hospital won’t let people stay overnight anymore since the pandemic. Didn’t want to leave you stranded.”

You hadn’t even thought of any of that. Aside from getting to your mom, you had no plan of action. Anything to come after that just hadn’t crossed your mind yet. You're glad someone thought of all those things, because your mind clearly isn’t capable of considering much at the moment. 

“Well, thank you. But I can just call Nat so you don’t have to stay with me.” Your voice sounds a little colder than you’d like it to. But with the way your emotions are surfacing, it can’t be helped right now. 

“Your phone’s dead,” he challenges, pointing to the quiet device sitting in your lap . “So, I’m staying.” 

You snap your head towards him, wide eyes and scrunched brows in question. “How do you know that?” 

“Been trying to call you for the last twenty minutes,” he explains, taking his phone out of his pocket and scrolling through his call log to prove it to you. “It was going straight to voicemail. I knew there was a chance you could’ve been ignoring me, but I had a feeling your battery had just died.”

You can’t deny the grin that’s threatening to consume your tired features. You’re flattered, to say the least. While you didn’t fully expect him to stay to be sure you were okay, you’re not entirely surprised. (It crossed your mind briefly that he could just let you use his phone to call Nat, be he hasn’t offered. And you’re not going to ask. You kind of like that he’s here.)

“She doesn’t have a room yet. They told me they’d let me know when she does.” You adjust yourself in the stiff, plastic chair to face him while he nods his head.

His eyes are heavier than usual. His drooping lids tell you he’s just as tired. Though he’s probably had a much happier evening than you have had. 

Before you let your mind wander too deeply into the fact that he most likely slept with Stacy tonight, you search for anything to talk about with him.

“So, that spookhouse tonight was–” you begin, but he interrupts your thought before you can continue. 

“Shitty.” He states, putting his phone back in the pocket of his hoodie and letting both hands rest inside the fabric.  “Shitty and not scary in the least.” 

“Yeah.” You huff through a chuckle, grateful for the tiny smile it forced out of you. “Stacy was pretty scared, though.”

The look Jake gives you is one you can’t quite place. He looks…uncomfortable? 

You half expected him to giggle along with you, but he didn’t. Not even close. His eyes shift away from you, gazing across the waiting room. 

Fuck. Why did you have to bring her up?

You pull your eyes away from him as you awkwardly set your sights back on your lap. You’re not sure how, but it’s clear you’ve struck some kind of nerve with him.

It’s probably for the best that you keep your mouth shut. And that’s exactly what you do for the next several minutes. 

Without as much as a single word uttered between the two of you, you’re suddenly longing for the moments prior to his arrival in the lobby. The ones you spent pathetically crying in defeat and helplessness. Alone.

But just as it seems that all hope of having a normal conversation with him is lost, he breaks the silence. 

“Is that what they’re called, where you’re from?” 

As you lift your head, you’re met with his drowsy eyes once again set on you, his right eyebrow cocked slightly as he awaits your response. 

“Is what called…?” you absently ask. Your mind became so filled with the painful lull in conversation that you’d all but forgotten what you were talking about before you mentioned her name. 

“The haunted house,” he says. “You called it a spook house. I was just wondering if that’s because you’re not from here.”

It’s funny, because you hadn’t even noticed that you called it that. Didn’t even think twice about it. 

The memory of Sam pointing out the very same thing pops in your mind. You’re then reminded of how you left him tonight. The guilt is weighing horribly on you, but, sadly, it’s a welcome distraction against the worry (and far greater guilt) you’re feeling  for your mom. 

“Oh, yeah.” You fix your posture a bit, facing him once again as he clearly wants to keep some sort of conversation going. “That’s what we call them back home. It’s so funny how we have different names for things just based on what part of the country we’re from.” 

“It’s pretty interesting,” he mutters, a tiny grin peaking through his sleepy exterior.

You just hum in response, not really sure what to say next. The silence was awkward, but this sad attempt at a casual exchange is almost worse. 

You look over to the counter to see if the nurse who helped calm you down is standing there, but all you’re met with is Eric’s creeping eyes on you from behind the marble that may have broken your hand. 

Your hand suddenly begins to ache once more at the thought, and you instinctively bring it up to your chest again to dull the pain. 

“Is your hand okay?” Jake asks, taking note of your wincing expression after moving your sore extremity. 

You’re not sure you want to tell him about your little meltdown from earlier, so you come up with a quick excuse that sounds slightly better than the full truth.

“I knocked it against the counter when I got here, just by accident.” It’s not a complete lie. The accident addition is a bit of a stretch, but it kind of was an accident that your fist met the granite in a fit of rage. (However justified it may be, it’s still a tad embarrassing.) 

He leans closer to you, attempting to look at your hand that you’re still holding against your chest. With a tender touch, he attempts to pry it away from you. You’re so stunned by this that out of instinct, you hold it even tighter.

“Let me see,” he softly demands. 

After some hesitation on your part, (why does he care so much?) you pull it away from your chest, holding it out in front of you and Jake to get a clearer look.

The outer blade of your palm is swollen and already beginning to bruise. It hurts like hell. (And you’re wondering where on earth that physical strength came from.) 

Jake runs his index finger so gently over the inflammation. Amidst everything happening, your body can’t deny the fire that’s blooming under your skin from his feather light touch. 

Your tired eyes flit up to his face, his features wearing stark concern. When his eyes meet yours, you can’t look away. And he doesn’t, either, his finger still tracing a light pattern around the impact point on your fist. 

…and then he stops. He looks away and jumps up out of his seat without as much as a single word. 

He rounds the corner of the hallway and is out of your sight within seconds. Gone. Leaving you sitting here alone and feeling like you’ve suddenly done something wrong. 

Before you have the chance to worry about that for much longer, you notice the tall nurse out of your peripheral walking in your direction.

Your mom.

You stand up to meet the nurse halfway, ready to finally be taken back to see your mom. 

“Hold on,” she says, stopping you before you take a step. “You can’t go back right now, hun.”

Why won’t they let you go back? What don’t they want you to see?

Is it because she’s dead?

The nurse grabs your arm to keep you stable, your legs almost giving out as your body feels a thousand pounds heavier. The blood from your head rushes down through your chest. The dizzying feeling present throughout your weakened limbs.  

Your legs threaten to give out as your body feels a thousand pounds heavier. The blood from your head rushes  down  through your chest. The dizzy feeling present throughout your weakened limbs.

Your body begins swaying back and forth, threatening to collapse from shock, exhaustion…

She grabs your arm to help stabilize you.

“Hey, hey.” She puts her other hand on your shoulder to hold you still. “Everything’s okay. Just sit down for me, sweetheart.” 

She leads you back down to the chair, helping you lower yourself to sit back down. 

“I need you to know that she’s fine, sweetie. She’s asleep, but she’s stable.” 

The tension leaves your body instantly, like a two ton weight has been lifted off your tight chest. 

She’s alive. 

“Can I go back? Can I see her?” You’re nearly begging. 

“Not right now, honey. I tried to bend the visiting hour rules for you, but the big wigs won’t budge. I just wanted you to know that she’s okay, but she’ll need to stay overnight for some extra testing.”

“Everything okay?” Jake sits back down next to you, taking your hand and gently placing ice wrapped in a paper towel on your swollen fist. The cold nearly shocks your system, but it feels so good against the pain.

That’s where he went. He cared enough to get you ice for your ridiculously obtained injury. 

You turn your head to face him, his sweet eyes locked with yours while he holds the ice steady on your hand. 

This isn’t the Jake you’ve grown accustomed to over the months of knowing him. But this is the Jake you’ve wanted.

“She’s okay,” you say, looking down the makeshift pack of ice he brought you. “She’ll just have to stay overnight.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” he responds, dabbing the frozen compress delicately across the bruise.  

“We’re still not certain what happened to her. She fainted; that’s all we know for sure. We’ll run some tests to get to the root of it.” The nurse draws your attention from Jake back to your mom. You distractedly nod, your mind still consumed with Jake holding your hand the way he is. “You’re welcome to come back first thing in the morning, okay? We’ll take good care of her tonight.” 

A small breath of relief washes over you. At least she’s alive. And she’s stable. But fuck…you just wish you could be back there with her. The immense guilt of not being there when it happened is eating away at you. You want to apologize to her, tell her you’ll never fucking leave her again. But, that’ll have to wait until tomorrow. You’ll just be stuck sitting in your guilt until then. 

The nurse begins wishing you a good night, but before she leaves, she glances at your hand that Jake is still holding in his grip. 

“Is your hand okay, sweetie? Do you need someone to take a look at it?” She asks you, concerned. 

“I think I’m okay,” you tell her, looking to Jake who probably has a better idea about your condition than you do. It’s the least of your worries at the moment, you just don’t really care about it in comparison to everything else. This feels insignificant, you feel insignificant. It just doesn’t matter. 

Jake nods, looking at you and then averting his gaze to the nurse. “A little swollen and beginning to bruise, but it’s not broken.” He lifts the ice to inspect it a little further, running his finger over the swelling. “It’s already gone down some. I suppose just keeping ice on it will do the trick.”

You give him a look that says a silent ‘thank you’ for taking care of this for you. If he wasn’t here, you wouldn’t think twice about it.

The nurse smiles in response, then looks to you again. “I’d say you’re in good hands, then. Better not let that one get away.” 

She once again bids you a good night, reminding you that you can come back first thing in the morning. 

Neither one of you seems to react to what she just said. Not aloud, at least. You both just ignore it as you walk through the automatic doors. 

“I’ll go get the car,” Jake tells you, fishing his keys out of the pocket of his hoodie. “Had to park kind of far away. Be right back.” 

As you watch him walk away, you can’t stop replaying what the nurse said over and over in your mind.

“Better not let that one get away.”

If only she knew.

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

The ice is melting all over you and Jake’s floorboard. You’re desperately trying to catch every drop in your lap, but it’s proving difficult. You were freezing when you first got into the car, so Jake cranked the heat all the way up for you, but it’s causing you to make a huge mess. 

“I’m so sorry, Jake,” you utter, fighting back a few tears brimming your eyes. It’s not the dripping water that’s threatening to make you cry, it’s the fact that you feel like such a burden. And here you are, being even more of one by dripping water all over his nice car. 

“What are you sorry for?” He asks, peering over to you. You sniff the tears away, not wanting him to see you crying over something so fucking ridiculous. 

“The ice,” you answer through a cracking voice. “It’s melting all over.”

His brows crinkle, looking over at you to assess the situation. His eyes lock on your soaking wet lap for a spell, taking a deep breath before his eyes are back on the road.

“It’s just water, y/n. I’m not worried about it.” He takes the final left turn onto your street that’s now much more quiet than it was the last time he turned here. He pulls into the parking lot, parking in what would normally be your spot if your car wasn’t sitting worthlessly at his place. 

He keeps the car on drive, just letting his foot rest on the brake as he unlocks the door for you. 

“Just keep ice on it intermittently throughout the night,” he reminds you. “The swelling should be mostly gone by the morning.” 

Staring at the darkened apartment building, you slowly nod your head as you’re suddenly hesitant to leave his car for some reason. Your seatbelt is still buckled, your body feeling almost too numb to even manage that.

The thought of going into the empty apartment isn’t by any means a pleasant one. You hadn’t even thought of the fact that you’ll be all alone tonight. No one to take care of besides yourself. (And that’s not something you're well versed in.)

You’ve gotten so used taking care of her since it’s just been the two of you. Being in the apartment without her just feels…wrong. On every level. And being alone in your guilt feels even worse. 

At this moment, you’re not sure you can do it. But you haven’t a choice. 

“Y/n?” Jake’s calm voice pulls you back to reality, to the fact that you’re still sitting in his car, quietly contemplating. He’s probably ready to get you out of here so he can go home. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” you lie, not wanting to delve into the turning wheels of your brain. 

Then, he puts the car in park, leaning back in his seat as he looks at you with inquisitive eyes. “Are you sure?” He questions. “Because you’ve hardly said a word since we left the hospital, and you’re not exactly in any hurry to get inside.”

Embarrassed, you force yourself to remove your seatbelt. “I’m fine, just a little tired is all. Thank you for taking me tonight, I really appreciate it.” You begin opening the door to let him leave, gathering the mental strength to prepare yourself to walk into an eerie, empty apartment.

“You know, it’s pretty late,” he says as you're one foot out of the door. “And it’s a long drive back to my place. I could stay here, sleep on the couch. That way you’d have someone to take you tomorrow morning.” 

It’s almost like he could hear the thoughts in your head. He knows, somehow, that you can’t handle being alone tonight. Like there’s something within him that understands. 

“Jake I–I can’t ask you to—” 

But before you can finish, he shuts off the ignition.

“You’re not asking if I’m offering,” he protests. And he’s right. You didn’t ask, but you still feel bad. Because you would love to have him stay. “It’s actually easier for me if I do. Saves on gas.” 

Instantly, the thought of having his company makes you feel worlds better. Even if he’ll just be on the couch. Just knowing he’s there will make things a little more bearable for you.

“Are you sure?” You ask, timidly. 

“If you don’t feel comfortable with it, I can just—” he starts.

“No, no. I’d love it if you did. Thank you, seriously.” 

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

You’ve been lying wide awake in your bed for what’s felt like hours. Flipping and tossing about in search of a comfortable spot that you just can‘t seem to find. 

It’s not really the bed that’s the problem. It’s your unabating mind that won’t turn off its wandering thoughts. You’ve tried scrolling on your phone, using every app you can think of to distract you. But the thoughts are domineering your every attempt to silence them. 

Did they give her the right medications? Are they keeping her oxygen on her? Is someone staying with her all night to make sure she doesn’t stop breathing? Who called 911? 

Or, the worst one…the loudest one.

Is she dead and they just haven’t called me yet?

You’re so accustomed to her being here, hearing the humming of her oxygen machine, being able to check on her to be sure she’s okay. At least when she’s here, you know. With her gone, it leaves the floor open for your mind to wander to every terrible scenario that you can’t do anything about. You just don’t know what’s going on. And the unknowing is the worst part.

Your grumbling tummy is just about as loud as your mind, reminding you that you’ve not eaten anything in almost twenty four hours. 

There’s nothing else to do, so you pull yourself out of your unwelcoming bed t o go find a midnight (actually, closer to two in the morning) snack. 

Eating is a little terrifying to you right now, but you figure some popcorn won’t do much harm. 

You slowly open the creaking door of your room, holding your breath as it seems to be louder than normal in the dead quiet apartment. The last thing you want to do is wake Jake up, so it’s vital that you’re as silent as possible as you make the journey to the kitchen.

You tiptoe as gracefully as your tired body will allow across the living room, avoiding coming too close to the couch where Jake sleeps as you walk as far away from him as you can, not even looking in his direction.

A sigh of relief passes your lips as you reach the kitchen successfully.

You know that there’s one more bag of Pop Secret sitting on the second shelf of the cabinet right next to the microwave. Relying only on the soft light above the stove, you shuffle through the various items in search of it until you at last feel the familiar plastic cover. 

Instantly upon finding it, you start looking for the nutrition facts to know just how much you’re putting in your body. An old trait of yours that you’ve not done in years, yet suddenly, as if it’s purely muscle memory you flip the bag over to the side to note the amount of calories you’ll be taking. 

I’m not reverting back. I’m just curious about what popcorn is made of, that’s all, you try telling yourself. (Although, you know yourself in situations like these. When you’re stressed, you seek comfort in old habits. One old habit of choice just happens to be food restriction and calorie counting.)

It won‘t last long. I won’t let it. I just need something familiar.

130 calories, 6 g fat, 14 g carbs, 2 g protein per 4 cups is printed on the back in dark blue ink.

Could be worse. And there’s nothing saying you have to eat the whole thing. Maybe you can split the bag in half, that way you’re only getting half the fat and carbs. That’ll still be enough to quiet your empty tummy. 

You toss the bag in the microwave and set the timer to three minutes, pressing start and cringing at the loud humming from the appliance. You’ve also forgotten just how noisy preparing this little snack can be. 

Each pop of the buttered kernels echoes throughout the open kitchen and you’re praying to every star that this won’t wake him up. 

With two seconds left on the timer, you quickly open the door to avoid the unpleasant ding that’s sure to wake him up if you didn’t catch it in time.

You pour the contents of  the bag into your favorite blue bowl, designated long ago as the official “popcorn bowl.” You can’t go without a little extra salt, so you dump a good amount over top and sift it around so it’s all coated. 

You’ve realized that you instinctively poured the entire bag, even though you decided to only eat half. You’re not happy about the extra temptation, but you’re mentally telling yourself that there’s no need to eat this whole bowl. 

Shutting the door to the microwave as quietly as you can, you begin to tip toe back to your room to safety.

Only now, you’re met with a slightly horrifying discovery.

He’s laying on his back, sans hoodie that's draped over the arm of the couch and the blanket you gave him sitting just below chest. (God he looks good.) The light from his phone illuminates his face as he’s holding it sideways, seemingly watching a video of some kind. But his drowsy eyes flick to you as you begin the walk back to your room.

As you awkwardly stand in the middle of the room, blue popcorn bowl in hand, he pulls out an earbud and sets his phone down. “Trouble sleeping?” His groggy voice asks. 

“Yeah,” you answer, a little embarrassed that he’s caught you in such a state. “I just can’t seem to relax…but what are you still doing awake? I hope I wasn’t being too loud.”

“I’m a bit of an insomniac, I suppose,” he answers. “Popcorn, huh?” 

He swings his legs over the side and sits himself up on the end of the couch, a silent request to have you come sit next to him. You take the hint. The company would do you a little good right now, anyway. 

“Is it okay if I sit here?” You still can’t help yourself from asking if it’s okay, given your less than welcomed history with him. 

“Under one condition,” he remarks, full smirk across his lips. 

You stop before you take a seat, slightly terrified of what his ‘condition’ could possibly be.

“And what is that?” you timidly ask. 

He flashes you a warm grin that looks all the more inviting under the very dimly lit living room, chuckling lazily under his breath. 

“You have to share your snack.” 

You nervously laugh as you situate yourself on the opposite side of the couch, taking a few pieces of your snack of choice and passing the bowl over towards his direction. 

You catch a glimpse of his phone that’s still unlocked and sitting upright, paused on what looks like some professional chef working away on some fancy meal.

Perfect opportunity for an ice breaker. 

“You like cooking?” you ask while tossing a piece of popcorn in your mouth. (You’re really hoping you just got a bad piece, because it tastes burnt to hell and way too salty.)

“I dabble here and there,” he answers through loud crunches.

“I’m the one who needs to watch those videos,” you say, wincing at the second piece you’ve now eaten that tastes just as bad as the last one. “I’m probably the worst cook I know.” 

“I’d say so,” he acknowledges through a soft giggle, wincing as he tries more of your snack. “You’ve burnt the shit out of this popcorn and you didn’t need to add so much salt.” 

Of course, he noticed. 

You’re thankful for the mostly dark room as you can feel the blood rushing to your face over ruining something as simple as popcorn. 

But, it’s making him laugh. And you’ve come to really appreciate the moments that you do get to hear him laugh, because it isn’t often. Even though it’s at your own expense, you’ll take it. 

It’s surely been a great way to combat any awkward silence between the two of you. 

You chuckle to yourself as you set the popcorn bowl on the couch, centering it so you and Jake can both grab some as you please. 

“So,” he begins as he brings his feet up to rest on the coffee table in front of you. “I know you’re from somewhere where haunted houses are called spook houses. Where might that be? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Oklahoma,” you answer, a little embarrassed. You’ve learned that your home state isn’t much of a popular one amongst people. Although you do understand why, you can’t help but find yourself missing it every now and again. It has its charm, however hard it may be to find. You know it’s there. Parts of it still remain lovingly in your heart. “A very, very small town in Oklahoma called Cherry Tree.”k,

With a soft nod of his head, his hair falls around his face and even in the dark, you can see how shiny it is. You can even see the soft smile over his lips. “I hear it in your voice,” he softly says. You look to him with question, silently asking him to elaborate. With a snicker, he continues. “Your little southern drawl. It’s not very strong, but it definitely stands out around here. A far cry from a Michigan accent.” 

Your whole life, you’d tried to mask your naturally derived, southern accent. You hated it. And you hated when people told you that you had one. It just made you want to unlearn it even more. 

Especially when you knew you would move to Michigan. The last thing you wanted was to stand out as if you’re not from here. 

Clearly, your efforts were useless. And as much as you’ve cringed when people have brought up the way you talk in the past, there’s something about hearing Jake point it out that actually makes you a little fond of it. 

Maybe it truly isn’t something to feel any shame over. It makes you unique, sets you apart, and perhaps that doesn’t have to be a bad thing. 

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

Time feels mute, like it doesn’t exist in this realm you and Jake are together in. 

The early dawn is creeping through the window blinds, and when you glance at your phone, you come to realize that you’ve been talking with him for nearly three hours, and that’s shocking  to you—it’s shocking because it doesn’t feel like it’s been that long. 

The conversations have been flowing so naturally, so authentically. He’s easy to talk to. So easy. You would've never guessed how seamless keeping a conversation going with him could be. 

And, to your astonishment, he’s done most of the talking. You’re witnessing a brand new side of him, one that you could’ve sworn wasn’t there. It seems as though he’s finally comfortable with you. Which is a really good thing, considering he’s spending the night in your place. 

He’s been the best distraction for you amidst everything. If he weren’t here, you’d be lying in your bed, probably crying your eyes out and dealing with the anxiety all alone. 

He’s the very last person you’d suspect would be here for you in a time like this. But, fuck, if you aren’t so happy that it is him.

And as time has gone on, you’ve both moved closer and closer to each other. His legs are spread out on the expanse of his cushion and yours, while your legs are slowly coming to rest on top of his, your body facing him. 

Every so often, his hand will find your calf as if he’s done it a thousand times before. An innate gesture that he hardly seems to notice he’s doing.

But you certainly notice, every single time it happens. Each brush of his hand against your skin causes your heart to flutter. It’s innocent, of course. But it’s the fact that he’s finally revealing himself to you, that he’s trusting you. 

It feels good. It feels really good. 

You’re listening intently as he’s telling you more about the music that has shaped his life up until now. You’ve never noticed all of his little mannerisms, like the way he brushes the tip of his nose after he laughs, or how his hands struggle to stay still when he talks. 

And his eyes, the way they beautifully catch the early light. Their color like a glass of honeyed whiskey over ice, glowing against the rays of the young sun. 

“...and that’s when I discovered the versatility of the SG. My dad searched the entire midwest until he finally found one for me.” The palm of his hand comes to rest on your leg again, only this time, it’s a little higher. His fingertips dare to brush the inside of your upper thigh, his thumb tracing delicate circles across your now trembling skin. The fire within you is growing, felt from the pit of your stomach to your swimming head. “That guitar taught me how to challenge myself. My dad encouraged me every day to keep playing and I’ll never be able to thank–” 

Something changes in his eyes, his expression faltering as he falls silent. There’s a sudden difference in him, one you can’t quite grasp.

And then he looks down at his hand still placed upon you, and with a thousand silent words, he removes it. Quickly. Like he didn’t realize it was there in the first place. Or, worse; like he was suddenly repulsed by the fact that he was touching you. 

The room changes abruptly, the air feels heavier, denser. You notice he avoids meeting your gaze, his thought left unfinished.

What have I done wrong?

“Jake?” 

He moves so he’s now sitting upright, as close to the other end of the couch as he can be. Furthest away from you.

“I should…I should probably get some sleep,” he says, the words sounding ever unsure. “And you should, too. We’ve only got…” He takes his phone to look at the time, breathing deeply from his lungs when he sees that it’s nearly six in the morning. “Jesus.” He runs a hand over his face in…frustration? Exhaustion? You can’t be sure. “We’ve only got about two hours until they allow visitors, and I’ve got to go to work right after.” 

You take the hint that he wants you away from him. 

But for what reason? Well, you’ll be left to wonder that for the next few hours, alone. 

You don’t say anything as you stand up, only nodding your head and shielding your face the best you can.

You don’t want him to see the new tears that have begun to surface. 

“Sorry,” is all you can muster as you open the door to your room. He doesn't respond, only pure silence comes from the living room. 

Whatever you did, it was enough to force him to realize he doesn't want to be close to you, emotionally or physically.

It was going so well. But, you ruined it. Just like you ruin everything else in your life. 

You’ve no doubt that you won’t be getting any sleep for the next few hours. Your thoughts are too loud, screaming everything you’ve ever done wrong in your ear. 

And you can’t get the look in his eyes out of your head, how they appeared uncomfortable being in your presence. How he suddenly decided he didn’t want to be around you. 

But, then again, you can’t blame him. Because who in their right mind would want to be around you?

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

The alarm on your phone is blaring. You’ve been  counting down the minutes until it was set to go off, laying in complete silence and watching nothing but the clock. Every second felt like twenty minutes in your brain.

When you walk out into the living room, you’re met with an empty space. No Jake. 

Did he leave…? 

The couch is back to normal, the blankets you gave him folded and sitting on the cushion under the pillow you let him use. (Your favorite pillow, but you’ll never tell him that you sacrificed it for him.)

Great. He’s gone. 

And you have no way of getting to the hospital without him. 

Natalia.

You’ll call her, see if she can take you. 

Which you shouldn’t have to do. He said he would take you, and he just fucking left. 

It’s safe to assume that whatever relationship you were building with him last night, has all but left the apartment with him. 

Deciding it’s not worth your time at this point, you grab your phone, unlocking it and tapping on Nat’s contact to call her. 

It’s ringing. And ringing. And ringing. 

Fuck. If she doesn’t answer, you don’t know what you’ll–

“What are you calling me so early on a Saturday for?” She finally answers, her raspy voice a clear indication that she’s just woken up.

“I need your help, Nat. Can you come get me and take me to the hospital?” 

You hear her gasp on the other end of the phone. 

“What? Are you okay? What’s going on?” she asks, her questions coming in quick succession. 

“To make a long story short, my car broke down at the Kiszka’s last night, so Jake had to bring me home. There was an ambulance when we got here, and it were here for my mom. They took her to the hospital, but I had to come separately. So, since I didn’t have my car, Jake took me. I couldn’t stay the night with her and when he brought me back home, he stayed the night to be here in the morning to take me back to her, but he left a while ago and I was hoping you could come get me.”

Even you can’t believe the words out of your mouth. A convoluted mess that you hope she’s comprehending at such an early hour. 

“Holy shit, y/n. Yeah, of course. Is your mom okay?” she questions after a brief moment of silence, probably in an attempt to understand the shit show you’re currently dealing with. “And where the hell did Jake go?”

“Wish I knew,” you say with a cynical tone. “And I don’t really know. They told me she was stable last night but they still needed to keep her. Since I was gone, I have next to no idea of what happened.”

Just as she begins to respond to you, you feel your phone vibrate against your cheek. 

“One sec, Nat. I think I just got a text.”

Jake: I’m outside in the car. Ready whenever you are.

“What the fuck, Jake,” you mutter softly, but loud enough that Nat heard you on the other end of the phone call you’re still on. He couldn’t have communicated this to you? 

No. Instead, he just made you believe he left. 

Either way, you’re glad he’s still here. He’s not that cold towards you. (Although you’re not exactly shocked at the fact that you didn’t question it when you thought he left.)

“What did he do?” You hear her say at a low volume. 

Bringing the phone back up to your ear, you say, “He’s still here, apparently. Just in the car waiting for me. I’ve got to go, I’ll keep you updated.”

With that, you hang up the phone and quickly begin to get ready. 

You take the first pair of leggings you see sitting in your dresser, then decide to throw on your vintage, oversized Billy Joel sweatshirt that you'd completely forgoton you owned. 

The state of your hair is one that you can’t do much with at the moment, you figure a messy claw-clip bun will have to suffice. You put a little moisturizer on your face, grab your belt bag and keys, and run out the door. As much as Jake has upset you in the last few hours, you still don’t want to keep him waiting any longer than he already has. 

He’s sitting in his car, just like he said. Wearing the infamous John Lennon frames that remind you of when you first encountered him. You had no idea at that moment, when he brushed up against you in the hall, when he tried to make you look like an idiot in class, that you’d be here with him. And if you’re honest, given the way he reacted to your closeness last night, you’re not sure this is much better. 

It’s like he wants to be closer to you, but when the time actually comes, he realizes it’s you he’s getting closer to, and backs off. And that effectively makes you feel about a hundred times worse than you did a few months ago. 

“Sorry, I didn’t realize you were out here already,” you tell him as you open the passenger door and take a seat. 

“No problem.” He waits until you’re buckled and settled before he starts backing out of the spot, his right hand grabbing the head rest of your seat while he turns his body to have a better view of the back window. 

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

The drive has been quiet, (shocker) save for his music. Something you can’t deny him is his impeccable taste, his taste that is so similar to yours. 

He must’ve taken notice of your Billy Joel sweatshirt, because, ironically, Vienna begins playing over the speakers. One of your favorites. And one that, without fail, makes you cry every single time. He probably queued it up because of your shirt, but little does he know of the deep, deep history you have with this song. 

He doesn’t know that your dad used to play this song while you were getting ready for school in the mornings, how he told you one time that he wanted to name you the title of this track, but your mom wouldn’t agree to it. But, that didn’t stop him from associating the tune with you. 

He called you his little Vienna for a good chunk of your childhood, up until you got to high school and asked him to stop out of embarrassment. You didn’t want everyone privy to your dads nickname for you. Just a normal, teenage thing. 

Then you remember…This was your dad’s sweatshirt that he gave to you a long, long time ago when he left for a work trip. You were devastated that he was going to be gone. He gave it to you for comfort, to keep a piece of him with you while he was away. 

And you chose to wear it today, of all days. When you need the extra comfort. When you know, deep down, that you need him. Your subconscious knew it. That’s why you gravitated towards this shirt without even realizing that you were. 

You’ve not heard this song since he left. Not even so much as thought about Billy Joel’s music, let alone this sweatshirt that somehow made the move to Michigan when you thought you got rid of everything from your dad. 

A single tear falls from your eye, landing on the top of your lip. You taste its salty presence before you wipe it away with the cuff of your (his) shirt. 

The lyrics feel heavier than they ever have. 

Why don’t you realize…Vienna waits for you?

When will you realize…

As the song comes to an end, as Billy plays the final note on his piano, you arrive at the hospital. (Something about it feels poetic.)

He stops at the main entrance of the hospital this time, instead of the emergency room one.

“I have to go into work,” he says while you’re unbuckling your belt. “So just text me and let me know when you’re ready to leave and I’ll come get you.”

“If it’s too much trouble for you, I can just ask Natalia.” You say as you get out of his car. “ I’m sure she wouldn’t mind. She doesn’t work today, so it’d be easier for her.” 

Your tone is awfully cold. Distant. 

You feel like you’ve bothered him enough. So, you want to give him an out. He probably regrets ever helping you in the first place. 

His eyebrows become wrinkled underneath his sunglasses as he’s looking at you. Before you go to close the door, you hear him speak up.

“Well, that–that’s up to you, I suppose. But I don’t mind, y/n.” 

“I’ll let you know,” you say, staring down at your feet as you’re finding it difficult to make eye contact with him right now. “Thank you again.” 

And after that, you shut the door and walk towards the front door, hearing him drive away behind you.

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

“She’s in room 430. Just take the elevator to the fourth floor and follow the signs. You’ll come up to locked doors, so you’ll have to buzz in with the phone on the wall. Just tell them your name and who you’re here to see, and they’ll let you in.” This receptionist is worlds kinder than the one you encountered last night. She’s got kindness inscribed in her dark eyes, and a smile that tells you she truly cares about her job. Her long curly locks are beautiful and charming, the color a lovely shade of auburn. Perhaps not natural, as her roots are nearly black. But this shade suits her skin tone perfectly. 

“Are there stairs I could take instead?” You ask the curly headed receptionist. Elevators are not your thing. You’ve had a lifelong fear of becoming trapped in one, and with your anxiety levels higher than usual today, it’s probably best if you avoid them altogether. 

She shows you a warm smile as she guides your sight in the direction of the staircase. Thanking her, you quickly head that way.

The climb up the stairs is grueling and as you finally reach the last step, you’re struggling to catch your breath. It seems you didn’t realize just how many steps there are in four flights. It’s a lot of steps. But, still much better than the chance of becoming trapped in a tiny ass elevator. 

After catching your breath, you take heed of the receptionist's directions and follow the signs that lead you in the direction of her room. And just like she said, there’s a set of locked doors with a phone hanging on the wall. 

As soon as you lift it from the receiver, someone answers instantly. You tell them your name and your moms. They verify her birthday with you and once you tell them the correct date, you hear the doors unlock. You thank them before hanging up the phone and heading down the long, somewhat eerie hallway. 

You’ve always wondered why hospitals look like this. The cold, stark white walls and matching laminate flooring, the harsh fluorescents that are painful to look at. Nothing about it is inviting or comforting in the least, and you’ve always thought they should be. Especially for long term patients that are stuck here for god knows how long. 

It just doesn’t make sense to you. In your mind, hospitals should strive to have a warmer environment, for nothing else other than to make people feel more at ease when they’re in hard situations. 

As you’re nearing the end of the hallway, you see room 428 on your left, 429 a little ways further on your right, meaning 430 is the very last one on the end to your left.

The door is open, and just as you’re approaching it, a nurse is leaving the room with her rolling cart that’s carrying a slew of things to check, what you’re assuming, are vitals. 

She smiles as she walks past you, her squealing cart still audible as she rounds the corner to the unit secretary desk. 

You’re still for a moment, standing just a mere feet from her. Out of her sight, of course. And she out of yours as you’re not standing in the view of the doorway. 

There’s a rush of hesitancy forcing you to stay where you are. You’re not sure where it’s derived from, perhaps it’s from the fear of seeing her in such a state. 

Perhaps it’s something else. But you don’t know what.

Finally deciding that just standing here isn’t doing you or her any bit of good, you put one shaky foot in front of the other and walk towards the open door. 

And then, you see her.

Looking the smallest she’s ever looked in your eyes. She looks too small for all of the devices she’s hooked up to. 

Tangled wires. A mess of tangled wires and tubes and IV bags…

As you walk in a little further, she hears you. Her eyes, ever slow in their movement, blink open and shift to you. 

They’re heavy, almost drooping down her pale cheeks. They look tired. So, so tired.

“Hi, honey.” Her words come through in a sad attempt of vocalization. You hardly understood her, more so relying on reading the movement of her lips than anything. Her hand, complete with an IV needle, raises to motion a weak wave at you. 

I wasn’t there. I wasn’t fucking there when she needed me. I can’t leave her…I can’t leave ever again. It’s all my fault.

“Mom I’m–I’m so sorr–”

“You must be y/n!” You hear a booming voice from behind you, interrupting entirely. When you turn around, you see an incredibly tall man wearing a set of blue scrubs with a white lab coat on top. “Your mom has told us a lot about you. I feel like I know you already.” 

As he reaches out his hand for you to shake, he smiles widely when you take it in yours. “I’m Doctor Roth. It’s nice to meet you.” 

He seems positive. The smile he’s wearing makes you believe that everything just might be okay. “It’s really nice to meet you, too,” you say, a little timid. 

You look back to your mom, who seems to have fallen back to sleep. Rest is probably the best thing for her right now, so you don’t want to wake her. Even though all you want is to talk to her, tell her how terrible you feel that you  weren’t there. But it can wait. As long as she’s resting. 

“Hey, y/n.” Doctor Roth pulls your attention away from her with his James Earl Jones-esque voice. “Would you mind coming to speak with me for a moment?” 

While his bearings have changed a bit, he’s still smiling. But, something is a little off in his tone with the question he asked you. 

“Um, yeah. Of course.” You tell him, although you’re not sure you want to have this conversation. 

Will he tell you that she’s progressed much further than you initially thought? That she’ll never leave this hospital again? She’s dying and will be dead soon? 

As he leads you down the hall, stopping at a little room near the restroom, your heart is thumping rampantly in your tightening chest. 

“Before we begin,” he says while pulling a wooden chair out for you to have a seat. “Is there anything I can get you? Water? Coffee? I believe we have herbal tea, if you’d prefer.” 

Herbal tea always sounds wonderful to you, but you’re not sure you could even stomach a simple cup of water right now, so you politely decline his kind offer. 

“I would just like to ask you a few questions about your mom, if that’s okay.” He takes a seat directly across from you at the round table centered in the middle of the conference room. 

You nod your head, letting him know you’re okay with it. 

“I understand she is prescribed a series of medications for her pulmonary fibrosis. If my memory serves me correctly, she’s on Ofev, Pirfenidone and an anti-inflammatory. Is that everything?” He asks you, taking his rectangle frames off and placing them on top of his head.

“Yes, that’s correct.” You give her those pills every single night. You know their strange names by heart at this point.  “She also uses a few different inhalers to help airflow from her lungs. And she wears her oxygen about eighty percent of the time, of course.” 

“Right,” he says, blowing out a long sigh as he sits back in his chair. “Well, let me ask you this. When was the last time she took those medications? That you know of, of course.” 

“She took them last night before I left.” You answer, confidently. 

“Are you sure she did, y/n?” 

“Yes, of course I’m sure,” you say with a little offense. “I watched her take them before I left—” 

Then, you suddenly remember that you didn’t actually see her take them. You left them out for her and reminded her to take them before bed, but you didn’t see her take them. 

“I guess…I guess she didn’t take them before I left. But, I’m sure she took them before bed. She always does.” There’s a terrible feeling present within you, making your already turning tummy feel a lot worse. “Doctor Roth, why are you asking me this?” 

“There wasn’t any indication of them in her system when she came in. Usually, those drugs can be detected for a few days after they’ve been taken, but there was no sign of them in her bloodstream. Meaning, she hasn’t taken them in at least two to three days.” 

No. He’s wrong.

“That’s not possible. I give them to her every night. With the exception of last night, I always watch her take them. I make sure she takes them. I’m sorry, but you’ve got to be mistaken.” Your offense has now shifted to full on defense. 

He’s questioning your ability to take care of her, and that is not something you will take lying down. There’s a whole list of things you’re terrible at, but taking care of your mom is not part of that list. You know that for a damn fact. 

You’re not going to sit here and take this, so you decide enough is enough and stand up from your chair to leave. 

“Y/n, please. I need you to listen to me. The progression of her disease, it’s…” That word. Progression. It stops you dead in your tracks. You hate that word. “...it’s the quickest I’ve ever seen in my fifteen years of practicing. If she were taking her medication as she’s supposed to, her lungs wouldn’t look as bad as they do. They would still look bad, but those medications help to slow the stiffening of her lungs. But with the state they’re in, it’s clear that she’s taken very little to no medications.”  

You’re not sure what to make of this…what is he saying? 

Well, clearly he’s saying that she’s not taking her medications…but how? 

You give them to her, you see her take them…right?

“Is—is there a chance her disease is just progressing more rapidly than what’s normally expected?” You hate saying those words. They feel like poison coming out of your mouth. But they sound better than “she’s not taking her medication.”  

He stands up from his chair to stand closer to you, taking his glasses off his head and placing an end piece on his bottom lip. “That is a possibility, although that doesn’t explain why we saw no signs of her medications in her bloodstream.” 

“Is she on them now? Is that why she’s so groggy?” You ask him, remembering how she was hardly able to speak or move when you saw her just moments ago. 

“Yes, she is. And that is another sign that she’s not been taking them as prescribed. Her body should be adjusted to the severe lethargy that these are known to cause, and it’s clear she’s not.” 

While you know Doctor Roth has no reason to lie to you, you still can’t bring yourself to believe him entirely. It’s not like your mom to do this, to not take care of herself. 

But there’s no sense in arguing with him anymore. It’s not worth it. Doesn’t change the fact that she’s here. 

And as that terrible thought resurfaces, you’re reminded of a question you need to ask him. 

“How much longer will she need to stay here?”

“I can’t be certain,” he answers. “But we’ll need to monitor her a bit longer, run a few more tests. At least another three days or so, but we’ll let you know when we believe she’s ready.” 

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

She’s still fast asleep, having been for a few hours while you sit quietly on the stiff couch in the corner of her room. The room is small, stuffy. Her only source of entertainment is a tiny television mounted high on the wall. 

You know she hates it here. You hate it for her. 

But the one redeeming thing about this room is her giant window that offers a beautiful view of the city skyline. Detroit is always busy, always bustling. 

But it’s lovely, especially from this fourth story view. 

And it's a nice distraction from the beeping monitors and noisy machines. 

Nurses have been in and out every hour to check her vitals, making small talk with you while they record every result. They’ve all been so friendly, each one of them asking if they can bring you anything to eat. You’ve turned them down each time. 

Food hasn’t been your concern today. Wasn’t your concern yesterday, either. 

You’re hungry, that much you can tell. But you can think of a million things you’d rather do right now than eat. Eating would only increase your anxious thoughts, and that wouldn’t do you a bit of good at the moment.

You can just eat when you get home. You’ll last until then. (You’ve lasted a hell of a lot longer than this before.)

You suddenly feel the vibration of your phone still tucked away in the waistband of your leggings. 

To your astonishment, it's a text from Jake. 

You didn’t expect to hear from him, but seeing his name on the screen of your phone does feel nice. It feels really nice, actually. 

Jake: I meant to ask but it slipped my mind. How's your hand?

You’d completely forgotten about your hand. But Jake didn’t.

And it warms your heart that he thought to ask about something so meaningless to you. 

You look down to examine your fist to give him a proper answer. Aside from a slight purple tint on the skin, you wouldn’t be able to guess it was injured at all.

You: It’s much better. Some bruising but no more swelling and I can hardly feel it. The ice really helped!

He responds almost instantly, meaning he probably still had your messages still pulled up on his end. 

Jake: Good. : )

Jake, although he has his moments, is great at forcing a smile out of you when it feels impossible to do so. 

His message is reassuring, especially with how last night (early this morning, actually) ended. 

Before you can type out a response, you notice she’s beginning to stir just a bit. She’s done this periodically throughout the day, but this is the first time you’ve seen her open her eyes since this morning when you first arrived.

She turns her head a bit towards you, so you get up and move closer to her. 

“Hi, mom.” You say softly.

She smiles at you, the best she can despite every obstruction on her face. 

Just then, a nurse walks in for her hourly check. “She’s awake!” He excitedly exclaims. 

He’s young, probably a fresh graduate. You’ve seen him in here once before a few hours ago. He’s very sweet, the kindness you’d expect every nurse to have. 

He runs through her vitals quickly, telling you he wants to give you two plenty of alone time. 

You thank him as he leaves, and he flashes a sincere smile while he turns the corner of the hallway. 

Her eyes are suddenly glued to you, but not just you. Your sweatshirt. 

“Where’d you find that, honey?” She questions. 

“Oh, I don’t know I just— I’m not worried about it. I am worried about you. What happened last night, mom?”

You’re sure she recognizes that it’s your dads…and you feel terrible for wearing it around her right now for that very reason. You just didn’t consider it. So, it’s probably best to change the subject. 

She sits up a bit and you reach out to help her. You place her pillows in a way that keeps her upright without her needing to use much strength to do so. Once she’s comfortable, you sit down in the recliner next to her bed. 

“They’re telling me all kinds of crazy things,” she says. “I’m just fine, I know I am.” 

They’ve more than likely asked her about her medications, how they didn’t find any in her system. You want so badly to ask her about that. But, it’s not the time. Not yet. 

“I feel so bad, mom. I shouldn't have been out that late. I should’ve been there, I could’ve done something, I…” Your throat becomes tight with a lump, your eyes brimming with a hundred unshed tears. It’s just all too much. And you feel like you’re to blame. You just can’t shake that feeling. 

“Don’t be sorry, sweet girl.” Her weak hand reaches out for yours. As you take it, you notice just how clammy she feels. “It would’ve happened whether or not you were there. I think it was bound to happen sooner or later.” 

She’s probably right. But, had you been there, maybe the ambulance would’ve been called sooner.

The ambulance. How did they…? “Mom, I have to know who to thank for saving your life.” The tears are streaming down your hot cheeks at this point. “Do you know who called?”

“Mrs. Sweeney,” she answers right away, as if it didn’t require any thought. “Bless her soul. She’s the sweetest lady. She heard me cry out just as I fainted, and called 911 for me.”

Mrs. Sweeney is your next door neighbor in your complex. She’s been the most wonderful neighbor to your and your mom since you moved in. It makes perfect sense that she’d be the one to call. 

“I’ll have to thank her,” you say, wiping away the tears. “She did what I should’ve been there to do.”

Her eyes suddenly widen, a stark contrast in how they’ve looked all day. “There’s…there’s no need, honey. I already thanked her. Called her last night, she’s been thanked plenty.” 

She could call Mrs. Sweeney…but not me?

“Oh. Well, okay," you say, confused. “I guess it would be beating a dead horse at this point to thank her again.” And with that, her eyes go back to their groggy state, closing slowly as she falls back to sleep.

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

“How is she?” Jake asks as you climb in the passenger's seat. He insisted on coming to get you as soon as visitings hours ended. Wouldn’t take no for an answer. He told you he was already on that side of town anyways, so he didn’t see the point in you asking Natalia to make the trip. 

“She’s…I don’t really know, to be honest.” It’s true. You don’t know how she is. You’re leaving the hospital with more questions than you had coming in.

His question…there’s just no easy way to answer it. “She’s okay, for now. But she…she may not be much longer. It’s…complicated.” 

“You don’t have to tell me more if you don’t want to. I’m glad she’s okay at the moment.” He tells you.

You smile at him, then relish in the silence the rest of the way home. 

You’re grateful that he’s not prying. It’s too much to talk about right now, and it seems he’s picked up on that. 

You breathe a deep sigh of relief when you arrive at your apartment, ready to climb in bed and try to get some much needed sleep. 

You thank Jake before he leaves, fishing for your keys out of your belt bag as you head up the stairs to the third floor. 

Once you make it to your door, you see Mrs. Sweeney leaving as you’re about to walk into your place. Your mom told you not to thank her again, but you can’t help it. You still haven’t thanked her, and it’s just not in your character to ignore a good deed from someone.

“Mrs. Sweeney?” You say as she’s locking her door. 

“Hi, dear! How's your mom today? I’m sure you two have had quite the night.”  

“She’s okay,” you say, the words feeling like a lie. “All thanks to you. I can’t thank you enough for calling the ambulance last night. Seriously, you saved her life when I wasn’t here–”

You stop talking once you see her expression change. She looks befuddled, almost disoriented. “Oh honey, I’m not the one who called last night. I thought you did, dear.” 

…she didn’t call? 

“But my mom said— you didn’t hear her call out for help?”

With a contemplative look, she puts her keys in her purse and faces you. “I didn’t hear anything. And I was home all night. This is the first I’ve left since yesterday morning. I’m sorry I didn’t hear her, dear. Were you not home?” 

As if it were even possible, there are more questions filling your head. 

“I wasn’t, but I’m sure one of the other neighbors called. Sorry to bother you, Mrs. Sweeney. I hope you have a good day!”

“Not a bother at all, love.” 

You walk into your empty apartment, in a near state of shock. 

Why did your mom lie to you? And so blatantly, at that? It’s not something you want to let yourself believe. Maybe it was because of her state, she was just confused after everything. But…she didn’t look confused. 

And she told you she talked to Mrs. Sweeney herself, which clearly didn’t happen. 

As much as you want to figure all of this out, you’re far too exhausted to give it much more thought. You need sleep. Sleep first, then you can get to the bottom of it. But for now, the only thing you’re craving is your bed. 

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

A pounding on the door  wakes you from the depths of your slumber, nearly startling you off the bed in the process. The post nap disorientation is in full effect. The sun was still up when you laid down, and now your room is in almost complete darkness. 

The pounding on the door persists, forcing you to wake up all the way. Who in the world…?

Hesitant to answer with it being so late and being all by yourself, you reach for your phone in case you need to call someone.

And right as you go to grab, you realize you have four text messages from Nat. 

Nat: Are you home yet??

Nat: If you are, be ready to come outside in about 20.

Nat: Hello?

Nat: COME OUTSIDE! We have a surprise for you. 

Based on the messages, you’re realizing that Nat is the persistent knocker. You love this girl so much, and you’re hoping that whatever her surprise is was worth waking you up for. 

Also, you’re not sure what she meant  by “we,” though you’ve got a hunch it could be her new suitor. 

You: Sorry, just woke up. On my way

Summoning what little strength you have left, you force yourself to get out of bed and head towards the front door. Your feet are literally dragging as you walk across the dark apartment. Turning on the outside light, you swing open the door to Nat’s beaming, beautiful face adorned with a full toothed smile. 

“Hey there, sleepy head!” 

Bringing your hand up, you rub what’s left of your (very little) sleep from your eyes. 

“What’s your surprise?” You ask with a tired voice. 

“Hold out your hand,” she says, an enormous grin still across her face. “And close your eyes.”

With as heavy as your eyes still are, closing them isn’t an issue. (You just wish you were still in bed while doing it.)

You do as she says, and as soon as your eyelids are shut and your hands are outreached, she places something peculiar in your flattened palms. 

“What is thi–'' you begin to ask, interrupted by her as she practically yells for you to open your eyes. 

And when you do, you see a single key. 

But, not just any key. It’s the key to your shitty ass Firebird.

“What the hell? Natalia Delores, what did you do?” You ask her, having a good idea of what this is all about.

And then you hear a honking coming from the parking lot. As you look over the edge of the stairs, you see Danny’s curly brown locks hanging out of the driver's side window of your car. 

“Surprise!” She exclaims. “Dan the handyman fixed your car!” 

Cringing at the ridiculous nickname, you give her a huge hug before sprinting down the stairs to do the same to handyman Dan. 

“Did you realize you were missing your key?” He asks as he wraps you in a long embrace. 

“I had no idea,” you say, still held tightly in Danny’s muscular arms. “How did you guys manage to get it without me noticing?” 

“Jake,” Nat tells you. “He took it off your keyring this morning.” 

You’ve a good feeling that happened before you got up this morning, probably before he went out to wait in his car. 

Danny is the first to break the hug, leaving you on your own against the chilly night air. 

“Can I pay you for this?” You ask him, crossing your arms over your chest to act as a barrier from the cold. 

“Absolutely not. I won’t accept a single dime from you.” He insists, brushing a curl out of his face. 

“Danny, I know this was probably really expens–”

“Nope.” He interrupts. “Not a dime.”

With a fake grunt of irritation, you give in. (Partly so you can get inside and out of the cold.)

“Thank you. Thank you both, seriously. This is such a huge burden lifted.” 

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

Despite how things transpired with you and Sam, he’s still treated you the very same. You were terrified that there would be some awkward air with you two after the way you left him the other night, but it’s as if he’s all but forgotten about it. He still fawned over you when you arrived for filming tonight, him and Josh referring to you as “the queen” when you walked in, as usual. 

You haven’t told him about your mom. In fact, the only people who know are Jake and Natalia. You asked them both to not say anything. It’s not because you don’t trust everyone—they’ve all become some of the best friends you’ve ever had in your life, better than any friend you had back in Oklahoma. You just don’t want the attention that would inevitably bring. You don’t need them feeling sorry for you, and you don’t need them asking questions that you don’t want to answer, to questions you can’t answer. And you know it would lead to the fact that your dad doesn’t have shit to do with you. 

It’s just not something that needs to be advertised, not yet. You don’t want it to be the only thing everyone associates you with. You want them to still like you for you. Everything else can be addressed later. 

Of course, that did raise some other questions. Mostly about why Jake didn’t come home that night when your car broke down. His response to his brothers was simple; he just didn’t feel like driving back home that late, so he crashed on your couch. That wasn’t too far from the truth.

They didn’t even bat an eye at it. Just accepted it as fact and moved right on, not giving it a second thought. Jake is a bit distant from his brothers at times, so it’s probably not entirely out of the norm for him to not come home some nights. 

You’re glad that things have been pretty much normal for you and your filming crew.

While you’re not acting tonight, you decided to come over to the Kiszka place anyway, just to get away from your own mess for a little while. The apartment feels much bigger when it’s just you living in it. You love to have your alone time, but it’s been so much lately that your mind is going to some dark places, places that you’re forced to revisit when there’s no one else around to distract you.

So, suffice to say, you jumped at the opportunity when Josh asked you to come over tonight. He often invites you over on filming nights when your scenes aren’t being shot, says he enjoys your company and input on accuracies pertaining to the lore. You normally turn him down on those instances, feeling far too guilty for leaving your mom when you are filming. But with her still being in the hospital, you didn’t see the harm in taking him up on it this time.

Tonight's scene is between Arthur and Camille. Between Jake and Stacy. The first time you’ll see Jake as Arthur, and you’ll finally get to see for yourself what their on-camera chemistry is like. You’ve been told more than once that they’re great together, but now you have the chance to see it instead of just being told about it.

Although, you’re not exactly excited  to see them interact this way. And a huge part of you is hoping that they’ll royally suck together. You’ve been so busy that you haven’t had time to come watch their scenes, not that you’ve really tried that hard to do so. You could’ve if you actually wanted to.

But, you figured you’d rather see it in person than wait until the film is finished. And your imagination has run rampant with what they’re like together and the ‘not knowing’ has been painful. At least after tonight, you’ll know. You won’t have to wonder anymore, and it won’t be a surprise when you get to see the film in its entirety. 

Something you’re a little (more than a little, honestly) happy about is the fact that Stacy doesn’t have her “own” dressing room like you do. Granted, it’s Jake's room that has been designated as your changing space. But, still. She’s stuck using the guest bathroom to change in, and you can’t help the curling of your lips when you see her struggle to carry her costumes in there. 

Nat nudges your shoulder with hers when she catches your grin, letting you know that she saw that. You can tell by her features that she’s thinking the exact same thing.

“You know I need more details.” She says, hushed. 

You know exactly what she’s talking about, but you’ll play dumb anyway.

“Details?” You question with a look of false confusion. “Details about what?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, y/n. Tell me more about Jake spending the night with you.”

You shush her as you lead her over to the dining table for a little more seclusion, both sitting in the chairs furthest away from the commotion in the living room where Josh and Malachi are busy adding the final touches to tonight's set.

“Nothing happened, if that’s what you’re wondering. Neither one of us could sleep very well, so we sat on the couch and talked for a bit, but that’s all.” You stare down at your thumbs as you twiddle them. You don’t really feel like mentioning him physically brushing you off when you both got a little too close for his comfort. You don’t even like thinking about it, let alone talking about it. 

Attempting to come up with something to change the subject, you feel terrible when you realize you’ve not even asked Nat anything about her and Danny. You perk up when at the opportunity to talk about something that isn’t the awkwardness between you and Jake.

“Speaking of details,” you say, sitting both your elbows on the table and resting your face in your hands, giving her your full attention. “I need you to tell me everything about you and Daniel this very minute. And don’t you dare leave out a single thing.”

A beautifully shy smile stretches her plump lips as she tucks a loose curl behind her ear. 

“Well, what would you like to talk about first?” She asks, her eyes lighting up. “The fact that we’ve seen each other everyday since our first date, or the fact that he’s the best I’ve ever had in bed?”

Your hands drop to the table, a stupidly massive smile plastered to your face. 

“Natalia!” You exclaim, scooting closer to her. “I can’t believe it, dude! So, are you, like, official? Or just fucking?” 

“Official,” she says, your mouth dropping from pure excitement for them. You can’t get over it. They make such a stunning couple. And she’s clearly so damn happy. That’s the most important thing. “And fucking,” she continues as you throw a hand over your mouth to muffle the laughter. “ A lot of it, too.”

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She looks breathtaking. Gorgeous. The pale shade of purple they have her in accentuates the emerald tones in her round eyes, the matching flowers in her braided hair look like a halo casted over her shiny, sunshine-yellow locks. 

Stacy’s appearance serves as a stark contrast to Guinevere’s. Her look embodies sweetness, innocence. While your character exudes sensuality as an adulteress with her black and red color palette, Stacy’s is meant to radiate charm and a sense of purity. Purity in the sense that, while she’s cheating with Arthur, she isn’t cheating on Arthur. 

Josh did this on purpose, to make Camille look innocent and unassuming, but in reality, she will be a catalyst in King Arthur's inevitable downfall. The fact that she’s an evil enchantress is hidden beneath her flowery looks. With everyone believing Guinevere to be the horrid seductress, no one would suspect that the true horror lies in the guise of Camille, who’s ever cunning under her false veil. 

Though you’re not surprised, she looks the epitome of sheer beauty. Walking perfection. And it’s a bit painful to see. She’s everything you wish you could be. 

You’re suddenly not sure you’re ready to see her interact with Jake in this scene. But, better now than later. Get it over with so you won’t have to wonder. You can sulk about it later when you have time to really feel your insecurities.

And now, here comes Jake. As if it weren’t hard enough to witness the utter beauty that Stacy carries, it’s an entirely different feeling with Jake’s. 

He looks…just so damn good. 

Tonight, instead of just the usual chainmail top and black trousers, he’s added a touch of regality with black velvet cloak over top, the very same one Josh promised him months ago. He looks like true royalty, exuding an aura of majesty, complete with a sword sheathed at his side. 

They both get settled in their respective places on set, and as soon as Josh yells “action,” a surge of unease radiates within you as you feel your whole body tense up.

As soon as they slip effortlessly into their characters, their obvious chemistry is instantly ignited before the camera. Every touch, every glance they share is loaded with an undeniable intensity. 

The way Jake's hand lingers on Stacy's waist, the way they lock eyes with such intensity…you can’t deny the fact that they’re wonderful together. Aesthetically, they just fit. Much better than you and Jake would, you’ve no doubt. 

When Jake speaks his first line, you’re shocked to hear him use a British accent. A horrible one, at that. 

You have to cover your face to hide the fact that you’re trying not to burst at the seams. But you’re not the only one. Nat has turned her head entirely in the direction opposite of you, which is probably a good thing. One glance at each other and you’d both break with boisterous laughter. 

Sam, however, makes no attempt to hide his true feelings. Standing right behind you, he loudly chuckles his classic, Sam laugh that makes it even harder for you to maintain composure.

Then, you hear a very audible groan from Josh, followed by yelling “CUT!” at the top of his lungs.

“Why did you stop us?” Jake blurts out, his arms flailing in obvious frustration. 

“I told you to use whatever creative liberty you deemed necessary for the character,” Josh confirms, both hands resting on his hips. “But I’ve asked, more than once, mind you, to not use that ridiculous fucking accent.”

Here we go. It just wouldn’t be a normal night of filming without at least several fights from the twins.

“It’s essential to the character, Josh. He is the legendary King of Britain, is he not?” His question is more like a statement, adding extra emphasis on the word “Britain” to secure his point.

“I told you, Sir Jacob.” 

Sir Jacob…?

“It doesn’t make sense if no one else is following suit with your shitty accent.” Josh continues. Jake flips a rather dramatic middle finger towards his twin, with Josh generously showing him the very same affection. 

“Alright. Take two of scene number 67,” Josh pauses a moment, waiting until they’re ready. “And…action.”

Thanks to Jake's “creative liberty,” you have to sit through the scene again, watching them and their perfect chemistry—again. 

And then…

…they kiss. The very moment you were not waiting for.

With the way his lips so passionately intertwine with hers, it’s clear they’ve done this more than a couple of times. And not only for the sake of the film. This kind of intimacy transcends the limits of film.

You and Sam had natural chemistry, but their chemistry goes miles beyond what you instinctively had with Sam. Theirs feels experienced. Experienced with each other. 

If there was any doubt lingering that they slept together that night after the haunted house, it’s all but confirmed for you now. 

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“When will your mom be ready to come home?” Nat asks you as the two of you are packing up the set.  

You quickly look around to be sure no one’s close enough to hear, the hesitancy to let everyone know is still hanging onto you tightly.

“Actually, she’ll get to come home tomorrow," you share with her. “She was good as new when I visited her today, and the doctor said she’s making huge strides.”

Your words carry a little unsureness. It’s not that you’re not happy to have her home, the apartment has been terribly lonely and you’re ready to get things somewhat back to normal. But, you can’t get rid of this feeling that something’s just not right with the whole situation. 

From the Doctor telling you there were no medications in her system to her telling you that she personally spoke with Mrs. Sweeney, thanking her for calling the ambulance, despite Mrs. Sweeney having no recollection of it and having not made the call to 911…There’s a web of uncertainty weaving in your brain. You know Nat can sense your apprehension based on the look she’s giving you as she places all the silk flowers neatly in their box. 

“You don’t sound too excited,” she observes. “Are you still thinking about what the doctor told you?” 

“I just can’t force myself to believe it. I know the evidence is there,” you remark, brows furrowed in confusion as you help her shove the ivy vines in the box with the flowers. “But it just…it doesn’t feel right, you know? Why would she do something like that?” 

Her eyes mirror the same questions plaguing your mind, the empathy ever present in them. You know she understands your confusion, her support has been a comfort during these last few maddening  days. (Though you still haven’t told her about your conversation with Mrs. Sweeney. You suppose that can wait until you’ve had enough time to process it.)

“But, I am happy that she’ll be home. It’s been so weird not having her there.” Once you get the last of the silk plants packed up, Nat takes the packing tape and adds a few pieces along the center to secure it for safekeeping. 

“I’m just worried about getting her up the three flights of stairs to our place,” you continue. “The elevator went out again and she can’t really climb them on her own. And I’m not strong enough to get her up myself.” You look to her with pleading eyes, hoping she’ll pick up on your silent request for help. 

“You know I would help if I could, y/n. But I’ll be out of town all day tomorrow with Danny visiting his family.” She tells you. You can tell by her tone that she feels bad, but it’s not her fault. 

“Well,” she says, contemplating her options. “Maybe I could just drive myself, so that way I could leave and come help you with your mom and then go back when she’s all settled.” Her offer is undeniably kind, but you can’t bring yourself to allow her to do that. You don’t want to be the reason her whole day is disrupted. 

“No, no. It’s totally okay, babe,” you acknowledge, grateful that she’d even consider such a thing. “We’ll manage. Thank you, though. I appreciate you a lot.” 

Just as you’re finishing up, you hear someone shuffling around in the kitchen. Looking in that direction, you see Jake gathering a few things to prepare dinner. 

“I can help you tomorrow, y/n.” He says, back turned to you and Nat. “Just let me know when.” 

You and Nat share a knowing glance that says what you’re both collectively thinking. 

You shouldn’t be surprised that he’s offering, given how much he helped you that night and the next day. But, you still can’t help feeling shocked at his proposition.  

“S-sure, Jake.” You say. “I’ll text you the time.” 

But as you accept his offer, gratitude mixed with trepidation floods your thoughts. You’re suddenly mortified at what he may have heard you and Nat talking about, surrounding your unease with your mom’s situation. 

How long had he been standing there?

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“So this is the famous Jake,” she remarks as you wheel her through the automatic doors to Jake, who’s standing outside his Range Rover ready to help her into the passenger’s seat. Embarrassment flushes your cheeks as she makes it obvious that you’ve talked about him to her before. 

Meanwhile, Jake’s lips curl in a playful grin at her statement. “Nice to finally meet you,” he says, extending a helping hand as you begin helping her out of the wheelchair and onto her feet. You try to avoid making eye contact with him as you and he position yourselves on either side of her, helping to stabilize her as she walks towards the car. But he isn’t trying to avoid it. Each accidental glance his way is met with his mischievous eyes fixed on you, his grin remaining ever present. Together, combined with what little strength she has, the three of you successfully settle her into the car without any issues. 

Taking the middle seat in the second row, you buckle up as Jake starts the engine and begins the drive to your place.

You didn’t consider the fact that she would probably bombard him with personal questions, and that’s just what she does the entire way home. She asks him all the basics, probing into his background and interests with relentless questions. His answers are pretty short for the most part, not getting very personal with her curiosity. (Sounds familiar.) But it’s her next question that has you wishing you were anywhere but here.

“Are you single?” She inquires innocently. (Although it’s perhaps not very innocent, given what you’ve told her about him.)

In the reflection of the rearview mirror, you see Jake’s eyes widen, mirroring pure shock. You bring your palm up to rest against your forehead, silently wishing to teleport to your apartment and end this agonizing drive once and for all.

But when he answers, you feel your heart sink to the pit of your stomach. 

“I, uh, guess you could say I’m single. I’ve been dating casually, nothing serious though.”

At his mention of “casual dating,” your mind instantly begins reeling and going straight to Stacy and the possibility (likelihood) that he’s been dating her. It shouldn’t bother you as much as it does—you’re nothing to him, after all—but the sting of his words still linger in the air, leaving you feeling so small. Perhaps if you looked like Stacy, he’d be just as interested in “casually” dating you. 

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“Would you like to stay for dinner?” She offers once the three of you make it up to the third floor of your complex. “I’m sure y/n could whip up something quick for us.” A bit of annoyance washes over you with her offering for you to make dinner for everyone. She obviously can’t, but the fact that she just decided you didn’t have anything else to do besides making dinner for three people? Maybe you’re overthinking it, but it’s not sitting right with you at the moment. 

Maybe it’s the sleep deprivation finally catching up with you. Or it’s your mind swirling with a million things at once. The doctor's words, Jake dating Stacy, the burgeoning voice insisting that you don’t eat. (And eating around other people right now is just far too much.)

“Thanks for asking, but I have to get back to work,” he tells her as he’s helping her in the door.

“What do you do for work, Jake?” She asks. But before he gives himself the chance to answer, he’s telling you both goodbye as he quickly heads out the door.

…okay? It’s such a simple question, why couldn’t he answer it?

While you’re standing here, confused and baffled by his actions, your mom seems to have not even noticed it as she’s now seated on the couch, mindlessly flipping through the channels to find one of her shows. 

“When will you be ready for dinner?” She asks you, not even looking your way as you're standing dumbfounded in the middle of the living room. Trying to shove down your frustration, you take her hint that she’s ready to eat and head into the kitchen to prepare tonight's meal. 

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You greet Jake with a sincere smile as you take your seat in Movacks class, only to be met with a simple nod as he looks away from you. 

“Mornin, Jake!” You chirp, summoning your best “Oklahoma” intonation like he brought up the other night, hoping to coax a smile from him. But you're left feeling utterly humiliated as he doesn't even acknowledge you, opting instead to focus on his phone. It's as if you didn't say a single word, leaving you feeling like an actual imbecile for the obnoxious display you've just made. It’s rather clear he wants nothing to do with you today, his pissy mood a good indication that you should probably just keep to yourself. No need in furthering his frustrations with the annoyance that is you.

You’ve tried to ignore the fact that he’s become considerably more distant with you since he helped you bring your mom home the other day. You’ve not even heard from him since then, and given how invested he seemed to be with the whole thing, it’s almost like he’s completely left in the past at this point. 

“I trust you all read the poems you were assigned with your project partner last time we met,” proclaims Dr. Movack as he walks into the room just as class is set to begin.

You and Jake were assigned Sir Lancelot and Guinevere by Alfred Tennyson, a poem that delves deeply into the forbidden affair. A bit of an unwitting irony when considering the depths of your project. He seemed out of sorts about it when you were given the poem to analyze last class period, acting as though it was a chore to have to read it. But you were excited about it, for very obvious reasons as it’s yet another layer added to your research on the character you’ve been playing. 

"Alright, everyone," Dr. Movack announces, starting the timer on his phone. "For the first twenty minutes of class, I want you to pair up with your partners and discuss your individual analyses of the piece you were assigned."

With a hefty sigh, Jake pivots his upper body towards you. “Thoughts?” He asks as his hands gesture for you to begin the conversation, clearly annoyed at this whole thing. (As if it’s your fucking fault you’re his partner.)

“Well,” you start, still taken aback but his brash behavior towards you for, as far as you can tell, no logical reason. “It compares their love to that of nature, while also equating Guin’s beauty to the same thing, making it seem as tho–”

“Kay.” He abruptly cuts you off, turning himself around so he’s no longer facing you, arms crossed and a vexed look about his pretty face. Clad with his John Lennon glasses, reminding you way too much of your initial interactions with him.

“I…I wasn’t done, Jake,” you state, sternly. 

“What else do you need to say?” He implores, his tone making sound more like a harsh statement than a question.

“I also need to say that its theme is a balance of pain and joy, of knowing that they can never truly have each other the way they desire, but celebrating the profound joy they do experience in their shared moments,” 

“The poem constructs the idea of Lancelot tending to the needs of Guin much more tenderly and passionately than Arthur could have ever done for her,” you suggest, pushing him to give you more than what he’s been giving you thus far. (Which has been absolutely nothing.)

But… it didn’t work. You lost him. It was as if the last word out of your mouth shut him completely down. You see through the wire earpiece of his staple Ray-Bans as his eyes close. A hand slowly goes up to rub his temple. 

One more shot. 

“What do you think about—?”

“What the fuck did they teach you in Oklahoma?” He fumes, suddenly and unexpectedly, his head snapping in your direction.

“What?” You blink a few times, surely hearing him wrong. 

“This stupid ass shit you’re spewing,” he growls, turning away from you once again. “Just shut the fuck up.”

“Excuse me?” Okay, you were nearly certain you had heard him correctly. And the way his mouth was set in a straight, unchanging line of ire told you as much.

“I’m so tired of this back and forth game where you think your little hick town brain can get you anywhere in a place like this,” he mumbles angrily, ripping open his journal and book to take his own notes. “It’s not cute to use what little knowledge you came here with as a point of intellect. It doesn’t work to prove anything. We all know the backwoods girl who is hiding underneath this fucking charade you’re displaying for everyone.” 

Your throat constricts, growing tighter and tighter as tears wet your eyes, threatening to fall. He rakes his fingers haphazardly through his shoulder-length, waving locks. With fists clenched, nails pinching your skin where they dig into your palms, you want to grab him by his hair and force him to fully face you again. 

He needs to not be a coward when he says shit that makes your heart quite actually break, crookedly down the middle. Your heart that can only take so fucking much.

He turns, just slightly. His jaw is tight, flexing beneath his frustratingly beautiful skin. How could one man encapsulate so much? One second, he’s driving you here, there, and everywhere—making you feel at ease in a time of desolation. And the next, he’s mocking you for your heritage—calling you out and chiding you for something you can’t help or control. 

A state that, in this moment, you realize you’re proud to represent in some way (you grew up there, the place raised you). You’re feeling some strange, burning need to defend it. 

His body is swiveled back around to fully face you when he rips his glasses off of his face. You fear momentarily of him breaking the delicate metal, but you soon forget the thought when you notice his expression. 

His eyes are flaming, indignant — pure fire in the sweet honeyed bourbon hue of his irises. A fire that infiltrates something so sweet and almost pure… almost. It’s Jake, for God’s sake; he can only get so pure. The word doesn’t even come close to fitting his demeanor at this moment.

The way he looks at you, making you want to crawl completely out of your skin.

“I don’t want you to insert an opinion on this material that is founded on the bullshit they teach you in tiny towns like Cherry-fucking-Tree,” he spit. “It’s a waste of my time and energy to even entertain the ideas that circulate in your mind full of, at best, average thought processes.”

Average. Just an average, hick girl. From the shitass town of Cherry-fucking-Tree. 

Average—Worthless. Just like the town you come from. How could you ever be anything coming from a place like that?

The tears begin cascading down your cheeks before you can even think to challenge them. There is no point in stopping the pools that are leaving your eyes in steady tracks down your hot cheeks. You’re shaking—shivering with equal parts twinging sadness and unkempt rage.

You let them fall momentarily, in shock as his eyes stay locked on yours, unwavering and loathsome of you. In his eyes, you watch every negative emotion he feels for you pass through them. 

“Fuck you, Jake.” Your words are stern, louder than you expected. Yet, you don’t care–because your voice conveys all of the hurt you’re encompassed with. 

And as you utter the cold words, you notice that the rest of the classroom is dead silent. A quick glance out of your peripheral vision confirms that all their heads are turned towards you and Jake.

But the eye contact with him doesn’t break. As much as you hate when people see you cry, you need him to see the hurt he’s caused you. 

“I have heard quite enough out of the two of  you!” Shouts Dr. Movack from his place at the podium. Still yet, neither one of you looks away from the other. “You both need to leave my classroom, immediately!”

“Gladly,” you shout, tossing your things in your bag with such a force that causes Jake to wince with each thing you throw in. 

He begins doing the same, matching your frustration with heavy hands. 

You don’t want to walk out with him, so before he can finish, you begin stomping through the classroom, brushing past Dr. Movack once you make it to the door. 

“Expect zeros for today's participation!” He proclaims, but you’re already halfway down the hall. 

Heavy streams of tears drench your face as you pick up the pace to get the fuck out of this godforsaken building before Jake can catch up to you. 

You can’t stand the sight of him right now, you can’t even fathom ever speaking to him again. His words cut deeper than any knife ever could, of that you’re certain. 

It hurts, it really fucking hurts. 

“Y/n, please wait, I–I’m sorry,” you hear in the distance as you’re crossing the street to the parking lot where your car sits. “I didn’t mean—fuck.”

The sound of the voice is unmistakable.

It’s Jake’s. You can discern it from the one he wielded like a weapon, his tool of choice to dismantle and destroy you, word by hateful word.

He calls for you again, but you choose to ignore his pathetic attempt at an “apology,” jumping in your car and starting the engine, wiping the excess tears away that are constricting your vision.

You briefly look up as you shift the gear into drive, catching sight of Jake’s defeated form standing on the last concrete step of the stairway leading to the doors of Angell Hall. 

And as you’re backing out of your spot, he rips his glasses off, tossing them to the ground with a force that very obviously shatters them. 

You know he was probably just speaking out of pure anger, but where that anger is derived from is what you don’t understand. You’ve not done anything so bad to him to deserve any of what he just threw at you.

But no matter where it came from, he had no fucking right to speak to you the way he did. 

Not finding the strength within you to turn back and go to him to hear his apology, you drive away and leave him there to deal with what he’s done alone. 

While there’s a part of you that wants to hear his explanation, you don’t owe it to him to give him the chance. It’s not worth your time at this point. He’s made it known that you’re nothing but a massive pill in his life, that he would probably be much happier without you in it, ruining it with every backwoods word you speak.

He watches you as you drive away, his features as cold as if they were carved in the very stone he’s standing on, unreadable even from a distance.

Tears begin brimming in your ducts yet again as you turn onto the street to head home, him now fully out of your sight. 

It's unfathomable how someone could harbor such hatred towards you, and yet, despite it all, you can't shake the intense desire you still feel for him. 

It just doesn’t make sense. He doesn’t make sense.

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The squeaky wheels of the wooden library cart echo throughout the entire building with each push. The screeching metal wheels send a chill up your spine each time you move, and you’re silently apologizing to everyone in here for the obtrusive noise. With midterms officially over as of last week, everyone has been dropping their books off in piles the past few days. After sorting through them all, making sure to note who returned their books on their account, it’s finally time to put them back on the shelf. 

As much as you hate the squeaky cart, this is your favorite part of the job. It gives you the chance to conduct a very detailed tour of the library on your own terms, truly allowing you to see it all. There’s no lack of discovering something new each time. You love this old building, and you love the smell of the books. The scent was the first thing you noticed when you walked in here for the first time all those months ago, and it still remains your favorite smell in the world.

As you look towards the end of the long Political Science aisle you’re standing in, you suddenly catch Nat peeking her head around the corner, waving at you while her clunky brown boots click as she walks your direction. 

“Need any help? It’s dead as a doornail up there and I’m bored as hell.”

“Sure, Mr. Dickens,” you joke at her nod to a literary classic. “I’ll gladly accept your help.”

She begins helping with your task, finding a certain peace in her company amidst the quiet library.

“I can’t find where this goes, any clue?” You ask, holding up the book on the tools of presenting a good argument. She takes it from you and examines it a bit, reading the faded numbers on the spine. 

“Well, I see why you’re having trouble,” she says, full smirk across her blush pink, glossy lips. “It’s marked wrong. This goes in General Law.”

With a playful wink, she gestures toward the correct section to guide you to its proper place on the shelf.

“How’s your momma?” She asks. “Is she feeling better?”

“She’s okay. She’s home, and she’s alive…it’s all just so strange.” You shelve the last of the political science books stacked on your cart, wheeling it around the corner to the General Law section as Nat follows close behind. “There’s still so many unanswered questions. I just can’t figure out who called the ambulance.”

“Wasn’t it your neighbor?” She asks, helping you maneuver the heavy cart around the tight corner. 

“That’s what I thought,” you answer, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you remember the strange conversation you had just days ago with Mrs. Sweeney. “But she told me she didn’t make the call. She said the ambulance just showed up. I asked her if she heard my mom calling out for help, or anything from our apartment that sounded concerning, something that would prompt an emergency call…and she said no.”

Nat matches your confused state, stopping to take in everything you’d just told her. “That just doesn’t make any sense,” she says. “Is it possible that she called for the ambulance?”

“My mom?” You hadn’t even considered the possibility. And, she would’ve told you…right? You don’t know why you’re so desperate to know, why it’s keeping you up at night that Mrs. Sweeney told you she didn’t call, that your mom had basically lied to you about the whole thing. “I–I don’t think so, Nat. She was completely unresponsive when they found her.” 

Now the wheels are turning. Maybe it was her, and perhaps she just…didn’t tell you? Is she trying to hide something? It just doesn’t feel likely but…possible, you guess. It wouldn’t hurt to ask her. Putting this whole thing to rest would make it so you can finally rest.

“Well, like you said,” Nat utters, breaking you free of your relentless, turning mind. “She’s alive. And that’s all that really matters, right?”

Of course that’s all that matters. But, you can’t help the feeling that there’s more to this than what you’re able to see, more that’s being hidden beneath the seemingly cracked surface. It could just be your anxious tendencies, telling you to worry when there’s truly nothing to be worried about.

Or, your gut feeling is correct. There’s something you’re not aware of that feels big.

You begin wheeling the now empty cart back to the circulation counter to grab another lot of books, Nat leading the way ahead of the obnoxious wheels. 

“Right,” you answer, deciding to push aside that worry for the time being.

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“Do you have any idea why Jake despises me? Like, has he ever said anything to you or Josh? Or Malachi?” You ask as you fill the cart with the next bundle of books to be put up.

“He doesn’t despise you, y/n. I know his exterior is rough, but there’s not an ounce of hate in that boy's heart. Just give him more time. You’ve seen it, you know he’s a good one.” 

You know deep down that he is, that he’s got a good heart with good intentions. But, there’s something about when he starts to become close to you that forces him to back away, to treat you like you’re a nuisance. He can shove his hatred for you down long enough, until he can’t and it comes out of him like he was accidentally hiding it.

“He does hate me, Nat. You can’t deny the way he acts when I’m around, like I’m the biggest burden that could’ve possibly been placed upon him.” You roughly toss the final book on the cart, wincing at the loud noise it made that you didn’t quite mean to happen. “You didn’t hear the way he spoke to me the other day, Nat. He belittled me in class. I have never been so humiliated and disrespected before in my life. Pretty sure I’m nothing more than walking garbage to him.”

“I hate to interrupt your little drama fest, but you are not the biggest burden in his life. There’s a lot you don’t know about him.” She says, frustration in her tone as she intervenes, slamming a book down on the cart just like you did. “I will stick up for you, y/n. But I also know things about him that you don’t.”

“That’s the problem. I know nothing about him. He doesn’t want me to know him. He’s built this wall around himself and refuses to let me in. He almost did the other night at my apartment, but when he realized he was getting a smidge too close to me, he shut down again. He’s the never ending enigma, one that just so happens to hate my guts.” Your words hang heavy in the air, a tense silence grappling them as you’re left with the realization of just how complex your relationship with Jake is, and it’s not by your choice. 

“I know he can be closed off, and I know he can be an asshole sometimes. Trust me. But you need to know a few things. He’s been through the ringer, multiple times.” She places a comforting hand on your shoulder, stopping you as you begin to walk away to put the books up, silently urging you to consider another perspective. 

“He and his brothers were adopted by their grandparents after their mom and dad were killed in a car accident. Drunk driver. It left all of Frankenmuth completely devastated.”  

His parents.

You’d never even once thought about where they were, or who they were. Being so caught up in your own shit, you hadn’t even considered…

Fuck.

“Their dad was in a local band,” she continues, taking a seat in the rolling chair behind the counter. “They never made it big beyond the area, but god, everyone in town loved them. And when Jake was about ten, he started playing with them. Playing the guitar his dad bought him, the one sitting in his room. He worked his ass off to buy that for Jake. They were killed only a few months after the first time he joined them on stage.”

When she mentioned his guitar, it all of a sudden reminded you of the night at your apartment. The night he became so disgusted by you right before he could finish talking about…

…about his dad. And the guitar he bought him, the very same one Nat is telling you about right now. You know this because you instantly took note of the SG sitting in his room the first night you stepped foot in there, and that’s the exact model he was talking about that night…the one he said defined him as a player, the one his dad searched high and low for. 

Oh my god.

“When they died, they moved in with their grandparents. But they owned an apartment complex in Detroit, so they had to move here with them. That’s when I met them, when they started school at Central High.”

You just nod in response, needing a second to fully absorb her words that are beginning to paint a much clearer picture of Jake. 

“Then, their grandma suddenly died. They were devastated, didn't come to school for weeks.” Her voice softens, her expression reflecting the weight of all the loss they had endured at such young ages. “They had to help their grandpa with the complex, learn how to run the business. Which turned out to be a good thing, because he got sick a few years later. Pancreatic cancer. The boys ended up dropping out of college for a bit to take care of him, to essentially take over acting landlords.” 

“Nat I can’t…I can’t believe it. I had no idea…” Your brain is struggling to process it all. And if it’s that hard for you to imagine, it must have been hell for Jake and his brothers to live it. It was their reality. But to you, it’s utterly heartbreaking. Unfathomable. 

 “They never left his side, especially Jake. He was with him twenty four seven, and when he died, Jake kind of became a recluse.”

The compassion you’re feeling for Jake and his family swells your heart as you’re realizing the depths of his burdens. His guarded nature suddenly makes a lot more sense as everything she’s telling you is fully sinking in. The old saying is true; you truly never know what someone is going through, what someone has been through. 

Regardless of how he’s acted towards you, you’re feeling a lot of guilt for being so quick to judge him. 

“Jake was the only one with him when he died. Matter of fact, he died in the exact same hospital your mom stayed in. I bet it was kind of hard for him to be there, but he stayed for you, y/n. That is the real Jake.”

Jake was committed to you that night. Stayed with you in the hospital that holds so much weight for him. Even in the midst of his own pain, he stayed with you. It explains so much.

“What happened to the complex? After their grandpa died?” 

“They live in it,” she answers with a grin. “They’re landlords. It was their inheritance. And as hard as it was for them to take over ownership as college students, they made it work. The three of them make one hell of a team.” 

You didn’t know what Jake did for work, but owning an apartment complex with his brothers was not on your list of possibilities. An extremely nice complex, at that. 

“Why didn’t any of them mention this to me? I get Jake but, Sam? Josh?” You can’t help the mix of surprise and confusion, wondering why they hadn’t shared such a big part of themselves with you. It’s their job. And you’ve never known anyone to keep something like that from you. 

Although it does make sense if they didn’t want it to lead to a deeper conversation about their losses. Maybe they’re the same as Jake in that aspect. They just don’t like to talk about hard things.  

Then, you remember how you’ve kept your life a secret from them, too. The only reason Jake knows about your mom is because he just happened to be there. But he knows nothing else. Your dad… he hasn’t and will probably never be mentioned with him. With any of them. And it’s not because you’re ashamed; it’s just not something you want broadcasted. 

“They don’t care for the attention it garners,” she explains. “And they probably didn’t want you to treat them any different. The only reason I know about it is because of my brother, and he’s the one that told me everything else about what they’ve been through. They really don’t like to talk about any of this stuff,” she adds, her voice heavy with sympathy. “They don’t want it to define them.”

“I can definitely understand that.” You say with deeply rooted empathy. Your heart aches, for all of them. But, you can deny the extra twinge of softness you feel for Jake. For him to have shoved all of this down the way he has, it’s no wonder he acts the way he does. It doesn’t completely excuse it, but it sure as hell makes a lot of fucking sense. 

The amount of pain they’ve experienced in their lives, losing practically everyone important in their lives. They’re not only bonded by brotherhood, they’re bonded even tighter because of everyone they’ve lost. All of them being so close to them, raising them. They’ve lost almost everyone who was ever important to them, being left with just each other to lean on. It all makes sense, and as much as he’s hurt you, you just can’t bring yourself to keep holding it against him. 

He’s hurting, too. 

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Carrying the third laundry basket up the stairs from the in-building laundry, you’re wondering just how two people have managed to collect so much clothing. You try to designate time each week specifically for laundry, but you’ve gotten so far behind on it that it’s become a little overwhelming. Each basket of clothes you’ve washed and brought back up to the apartment has been overflowing. You’re sure you’ll discover a missing sock or a pair of underwear or two that fell during the journey back to your place, but you’re not about to go back and find out.

You’re finally done washing everything. Now, the worst part: putting it all up. You decide to put that part off for a little while to get caught up on the rest of the chores that need to be done tonight. 

The dishes are next on the list. You usually don’t mind doing them, but your dishwasher decided to quit on you and the landlord is in no hurry to come and fix it. So, you’re stuck hand washing the pile that has somehow accumulated significantly over the last few days. 

With a resigned sigh, you roll up your sleeves and begin scrubbing away at the stack of plates and utensils. The warm water soothes your hands, and you find a sense of rhythm in the repetitive task. 

Your mind starts to drift to the other tasks that still need to be taken care of. The vacuuming, tidying up the living room, perhaps taking out the trash if you can muster up the energy.

But for now, you decide to focus on the task at hand, finding a strange sort of comfort in the motion of washing and rinsing each dish.

Despite the annoyance of hand washing dishes, there's a strange comfort in the routine of it all. With each plate cleaned and set aside to dry, you feel a small sense of accomplishment. 

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You peek around the door frame to see her lying in the same spot she has been for the last few hours, still grazing her plate of food you gave her and watching something mindless on the television. She hasn’t noticed you standing there yet, and just as you’re about to say something, you notice she’s not wearing her oxygen. 

“Mom,” you assert as you storm inside of her room, the frustration in your voice apparent. You grab her nasal cannula sitting on her nightstand and help her put it on. “How long have you not been wearing it?” 

She takes a deep breath as she further adjusts the tube to her face, letting out a dry cough from deep in her chest. “I’m fine, sweetie. I won’t keel over  if I go without it for a little bit. It’s just so invasive, I hate wearing that damn thing.”

“That is not what the doctor said.” You check her tank to be sure she’s getting enough to compensate for however long she’s kept it off. “And based on how horrible your cough sounds, you need it right now. Please, mom. You have to follow their orders. You don’t want a repeat of the other night, do you?”

She sits herself up a bit, as well as she can. Smiling at you and nodding, she says, “I know, I know. Your momma is just a little stubborn sometimes. What would I do without my sweet daughter to take care of me?” You smile back at her, but it quickly fades as you're reminded yet again of the other night and the questionable events that transpired. 

She picks up on your sudden change in expression. “Are you okay, sweetie?” She asks with wary concern. 

You decide that right now is as good a time as any to ask her your burning question. With a heavy breath, you take a seat on the edge of her bed beside her. Clearing your dry throat, you say “I have to ask you something.” 

“Of course, honey. What’s on your mind?” Her eyes watch you with a gentle kindness about them that you’ve always loved about her, but right now, along with the kindness there are a thousand secrets as dark as her pupils. It casts an unease in your spirit that is brand new to you, yet feels oddly familiar all at once. Has it always been there and you’ve just never noticed? Have you just denied it?

You can’t decipher why you’re so nervous to ask her. You shouldn’t be; it’s a simple question. But you feel this heaviness deep within your body that you can’t explain. An intuition that something is awry, perhaps? 

You’ve never once doubted your mom. You’ve always trusted her with everything for the simple fact that she’s never given you cause not to. But you can’t deny that something feels…off. And as she’s looking at you right now, you’re suddenly not sure you recognize the woman sitting before you anymore. Something is different. Everything is different. 

And you don’t know why you feel this way. But you do. And denying it further will only cause you to descend into a maddening cycle of endless wandering.

Her eyes are flicking back and forth between yours, her eyebrows are scrunched and her thin lips are slightly agape. With a curious nod of her head, she quietly signals you to just ask your damn question. 

“Did…” Your tight voice cracks and as she grabs your hand to try and comfort you, you find your voice to continue. “Did you call 911 that night?” The words flow out of your mouth like a river with no end, a strong current that knocks you into the depths of the raging waters. 

Her eyes widen and her mouth falls the rest of the way open. Her hand slowly moves away from yours as her eyes stay steady on you. A look of pure shock washes over her face as she’s quiet for an uncomfortable amount of time. 

“I thought we agreed on Mrs. Sweeney calling.” She finally asserts, her voice suddenly much more strong and clear than it has been in a long time, startling you. “I’m not sure why you’re still on this, y/n.” Her tone is sharp as a blade, penetrating you each time she utters a word. She’s almost defensive, angry. Her eyes are narrowed on yours, unblinking and stilled. 

“I just…you’re right. I’m sorry, I must've forgotten.” You manipulate your tone to sound more sure, more accepting than you truly feel. You decided against telling her about your conversation with Mrs. Sweeney. You’ve a solid feeling it may not go over well if you tell her what was said. There’s a queasy feeling in the pit of your belly telling you to just shut up. A feeling you’ve never felt with your mom before. You’ve always known you could go to her for anything. Right now, you feel like shutting down completely. 

Her gruff features soften back to the way you’re most used to them, her smile taking over her thin scowl. However, the kindness in her eyes that was mixed with secrets earlier, has shifted to the secrets taking command. You don’t know who she is right now. And you’re wondering if you’ve ever truly known.

“It’s okay, honey. I know you’re awfully busy these days. I’m so proud of you.” Her tone has gone back to its weak, hushed quality. What was once a comfort to you, now feels quite the opposite. And something about her compliment felt…forced. Like she only said it as a distraction. And her voice changing on command, like that was forced, too. As if you weren’t feeling off about this whole thing enough, this has made it ten times worse.

Before you can figure out what to say, you catch the time from her nightstand clock out of the corner of your eye. Realizing it’s well after ten o’clock, you immediately step back in your caregiver shoes. It’s over an hour past time for her to take her evening medications. You grab the three bottles sitting next to the clock, dumping one pill out of each in your hand and setting them back down, taking the half-full glass of water in your hand next.

“Take these really quick.” You say as you hand her the pills and the glass. “I’ll get you more water once you’re done.” 

She nods, tossing all three pills in her mouth and downing the rest of her water before handing the glass back to you. 

Standing from the edge of her bed to head to the kitchen, you tell her you’ll be right back with her water. Without a word, she just smiles your way as you walk through the door.

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It’s nearly three in the morning and you’ve still not gone to bed. With as much time as you’ve had to dedicate to your mom, the apartment upkeep, work, and filming all while attempting to maintain a rather poor excuse for a social life, school and homework have been on the very bottom of your priority list. And that is very much not like you. Your grades have suffered the last few weeks. You’re falling behind, nearing the point of no return. So, sleep isn’t much of an option right now. Hasn’t been for several nights. It’s the only time you’ve got to do something for yourself. Even something as grueling as English homework. 

Tonight's task is to complete your paper on Carmilla for your Classic Horror course, but the words aren’t flowing as seamlessly as they should. As much as you want to be able to focus, you just can’t. You can only manage to get out a few sentences at a time before you have to stop and regather your train of thought. You keep checking your phone, scrolling through mindless social media, getting up to get a drink, anything that might keep you from this rather daunting task.

Your frustration with yourself is growing by the minute. You have to get this done by Monday, and you’re nowhere near finished. There’s hardly a conceivable thought typed on your word document and you don’t see yourself being able to form one anytime soon.

The ever burdening worry is all the more present after your talk with your mom. The way she acted when you asked your question, how her entire demeanor changed to one that made her unrecognizable to you…The questions are persistent, their relevance feeling more palpable than before.

As you start typing out your second paragraph, you’ve suddenly come to a realization that keeps you from continuing…

If she’s hiding that she did call for the ambulance, she would’ve had to use her cell phone. That call would still show up in her log, and although you don’t believe in invading someone's personal space, you just need to know. Odds are, she’s right. She didn’t call, and you’ll probably find absolutely nothing in her phone to indicate that she did. But at least you’ll know. And you can check it off your list of possibilities. You’ll be able to confirm that she wasn’t lying to you. (Because she wouldn’t do that…right?)

You’ve decided that checking her phone is the only way you’ll be able to put this whole thing to rest. Is it the right thing to do? Absolutely not. But you can’t focus until you know. 

Her door is always left open just in case something happens, you can hear her easier. So, with a light step, you walk inside her mostly dark room. Her television is quietly playing some old Western film you know you’ve seen a dozen times, but you can’t decipher which one it is. Some desert battle with horses and weapons flashes on the screen, the light illuminating the room in eerie beams. 

She’s fast asleep. Her oxygen tank is a steady hum against the low volume of the film, her breathing heavy but not labored.

Her phone rests on the nightstand closest to the wall, plugged into the charging cord. As you lift and touch the screen, you’re reminded of the fact that she keeps a six digit code to keep it locked. A code that you don’t know.

Although, you’ve got a hunch. With shaky thumbs, you type out the month, day and year of your birthday.

It worked. You’re in. 

Your eyes quickly shift to her sleeping form to be sure that she is still asleep. She’s situated on her back, her head rolled over on the pillow facing you. Her eyes aren’t open, and she’s not moved since you’ve been in here. You make haste in locating her call log and scrolling all the way to the date she landed herself in the emergency room. 

…and she was right. 

There are no 911 calls anywhere on her log. Not even a call made to the hospital…nothing. But as you take a closer look, there is something amiss. 

It was just after 1:30 in the morning when you and Jake arrived at your apartment to the chaotic scene. There’s an outgoing call that was made at 1:16…just minutes before the ambulance must have arrived. She was completely unresponsive when they found her, so how did she…? And why didn’t she call you?

The contact name is only adding to your questions. It’s a name you can’t place, and it’s an odd one.

Dodger.

Who the fuck is Dodger?

You don’t know a single person with that name…not that you can think of right away, at least. 

Whoever this Dodger is, might be the person responsible for the ambulance call. If not them, then who else? And the fact that she was on the phone with them right before…

Finding out the area code might give you some clue as to who this is. If nothing else, you’ll at least have an idea of where they live. After tapping the information icon to the right, you’re shocked when you see the three digits that tell you this is an Oklahoma number. 

There’s no one back home that she’s kept in touch with since the move. At least, not that you know of. She didn’t have many friends. None, actually. She spent all of her either time at home or, when your dad left, with you. Your mind is empty at trying to conjure up a single person she’d need to call from back home. You stare at the screen for a moment, trying your best to make sense of what you see before you. But you just can’t.

You need to call this number. But not with her phone, so you text yourself the contact information and delete the text from her phone so she won’t know. 

And as you’re in her text messages, you decide to see if she and Dodger ever text each other. But, there’s nothing. You’re quite literally the only person she texts, making this whole thing all the more strange. 

You place her phone back on the nightstand, checking on her once more before you quietly walk away. But before you do, something catches your eye. Her glass of water. It’s empty. You may as well fill it for her so she has it in case she wakes up thirsty. As you pick it up, something else catches your eye. Something far more alarming than an empty glass. 

You see the pills you gave her earlier, the ones you saw her swallow down. Or, at least you thought she did. But she didn’t. The three pills you gave her are sitting behind the glass, hidden from plain out of plain view. Had you not moved the glass, you wouldn’t have seen them. 

Suddenly, you’re remembering how the doctor was convinced that she hadn’t been taking them, asking you suspiciously if she had been. 

And you told him yes. Of course she’d been taking them, why wouldn’t she? 

You give them to her every night. You watch her take them every night. But if you thought she took them tonight when she actually didn’t, does that mean…that she never takes them? 

You can't bring yourself to believe that. You don’t even want to believe it. There’s an explanation. Has to be. 

She wouldn’t do that to herself, to you as her number one caregiver. She’s told you time and time again that she wants you to live your life for you, not for her. She’s said that she hates relying on you, but loves that she can. 

No, she wouldn’t do that. She would know to take her medications, because they make her better. And she wants to get better. For her and for you, like she’s said since she got sick in the first place. 

But it doesn’t explain…

…she really hasn’t been taking her pills.

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The cold, wet hair hitting your back makes you shiver before you wrap it up in a towel, taking the matching one to wrap up your soaking wet body. You decided to take an ‘everything’ shower before filming tonight, completing all of your deep conditions and skin scrubs. This is the most refreshed you’ve felt in weeks.

Tonight will be your last intimate scene with Sam, black lace dress included. And also your first with Jake. This will be the first time you’ll share the screen with him as your fictional ‘husband and wife’ characters. But there will be no loving sentiment between them on the screen. 

No. Tonight, Arthur will catch Guinevere in the middle of the act with her beloved Lancelot, his closest companion and best comrade. It’s going to be one of the most intense scenes within the entire project. 

According to what Josh has written in the script, Arthur will walk in on Guinevere and Lancelot making love, thus beginning the downfall of his reign due to his all consuming desires to get rid of Lancelot. 

Something else Josh wrote into the script is that Arthur and Lancelot have quite the heated argument over who is more deserving of their precious Guin. All the while, she is laid out on Lancelot's bed, clad in her most scandalous attire in front of both men whose need for her will end their relationship in one of the worst ways imaginable. Arthur will take one look at his wife, her body nearly on full display before them both, the most intimate gift that she’s offered his once closest confidant. He will then immediately order the death of Sir Lancelot for treason as he has committed one of the most heinous crimes against the king. 

Lancelot won’t argue, as he believes his time with Guinevere, however short, is enough to sustain him, even in death. She was worth it, she is worth it. And he will force Arthur to look upon her and realize the treasure in her that he has taken for granted. He will beg the king to at last show her the love she deserves once he is gone and no longer can. 

Suffice to say, tonight's scene is a big one. It serves as a catalyst for a lot of significant plot points. And you’re hoping that everything you’ve learned about acting thus far will suffice for the heaviness expected from you and your fellow actors. The hard part about this scene for you is the lack of dialogue. Once Arthur becomes privy to the affair between the two, Guinevere stays silent for the most part save for a few lines. Meaning you’ll be relying heavily on your body to convey her every emotion and thought, which you’ve found to be far more challenging than speaking a few lines with a manipulated voice.

Manipulating your body without a single word is a different thing altogether. To be able to convey emotions without speaking is something you’re not the most confident in, on and off  the screen.

But something happens to you once you put your costume on. You become someone else, someone you’ve always wished you could be. And with Jake being present, you’re sure you’ll have a little added inspiration. But that means you’ll be trying a little harder to look nice for tonight's filming session. Hence the ‘everything’ shower that felt like it took literal ages to complete, but felt so incredibly wonderful. (And also felt rather necessary.)

With your body now only a little damp, you remove your towel to start lathering yourself up in your favorite body lotion, fragrant with notes of wild lavender and chamomile, then taking your frenshe body oil in vanilla cashmere and massaging it all over your skin, focusing a little more on your neck and chest, even adding a little to inner thighs. These scents make for the perfect, seductive aroma, and your skin feels so soft, so alluring. Perfect for tonight.

Normally, you’d shy away from looking at yourself in the mirror, especially your nude form. Yet here you are, scrutinizing your reflection, noting each and every tiny thing that you wish you could alter. The years that you’ve spent hiding…years. 

It’s hard to look at your body when it’s not covered by the sweaters that are two sizes too big. You’re forced to accept your body, to accept the things you hate that you’ve felt the need to cover with a security blanket ever since you were a child. 

You stand to the side to see just how much your tummy is pooched from the apple cinnamon oatmeal you ate this morning. It could all be in your head, but you’re almost sure you can see the bloat from your tiny meal. You turn around completely, looking back for the crinkles of cellulite that you know are present in your ass. 

They’re there. Just as you suspected. You’re sure no model. No perfect ‘beauty queen’... 

…no Stacy. 

Fuck. How could anyone find you attractive when you’re so mortified by your own reflection? 

The voice in your head is loud and overpowering. It’s screaming louder than the voice that talked to you through recovery. 

You’re in such a strange place.

While your confidence in yourself has arguably never been higher, the urge to relapse has grown right along with it. Maybe it’s because you’ve suddenly found a version of yourself that you can appreciate. A version of yourself that you’ve always longed for. But she can’t be found in your real life. 

No. She only makes her appearance when you’re pretending to be someone else. She isn’t you.

She lives within you, but she isn’t you. 

You grab the towel and quickly cover yourself back up with it, not wanting to spiral even deeper into your insecurities when you’re supposed to be playing a confident, beautiful queen in a few hours. 

You’ll be fine once you put the dress on, you tell yourself. Please, please don’t do this. Not right now. 

You know shoving down the thoughts, ignoring them with a temporary fix, isn’t the answer. But you can’t deal with it right now. You don’t have time. You don’t have the mental space for it. 

You’ll deal with it later. It can wait. 

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Josh’s room is the set tonight, and it looks incredible. The bed is adorned with a white satin duvet, with red and white rose petals scattered all over. This is your throne for the night, where you’ll be lying for the entire duration of the scene. 

Josh’s walls are painted white, but he and Malachi have worked pure magic with the lighting that has given them a dark red hue. You thought they had actually painted them when you walked in, but Josh showed you the lights, the “wonders of cinematic sorcery,” as he called it. It looks like a brand new room, it looks so good. 

Jake was right when he told you his brother is one hell of a director. Everything he does feels professional. You just know you’ll see Josh’s name alongside the likes of Tarantino and Scorsese someday. His talent and eye for putting together the best scenes will get him far. And Malachi will be right alongside him, designing the perfect costumes for Josh’s films. A dynamic duo, those two. 

But if you’re honest with yourself, the beauty and eroticism of the set has you even more nervous for this scene. You just hope that you can do this set justice and not fuck it all up. It deserves some of the best acting you can offer Josh. You don’t want to let him down with your insecurities that have been weighing so heavily all day. 

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“I still can’t believe it,” Nat says as you’ve just finished applying the final layer of Ben Nye to your secret ink. (You still can’t get over the fact that Sam now knows about it. Not what you wanted, but there’s nothing you can do now. It’s done. It just feels strange that something so personal is now not as personal as you intended for it to be.)

As you dab a little finishing powder over the foundation, you turn your head over your shoulder to Natalia, who’s sitting crisscrossed in the center of Jake’s bed. “Believe what?” you ask her, snorting a chuckle. 

“Your sexy little tattoo, that’s what.” Her beautiful face wears that contagious smile of hers, her right eye throwing you a sly wink. “I would’ve never suspected it when I met you. You’re just full of secrets, aren’t you?” 

You have no idea. 

“Guess you could say that.” You huff a giggle while you secure all of Josh’s makeup back in his bag. Still to this day, he’s yet to ask you what it’s for. Odds are, he thinks you just need a little extra coverage for your face. It doesn’t seem he suspects a thing. (You’re just hoping Sam keeps his mouth shut about this unrevealed aspect of yourself.) 

“Do you think you’ll ever get anymore?” She questions as she’s handing you your gown. 

“Thank you, babe,” you tell her, taking the garment bag from her. “And I don’t know, I’ve not really put too much thought into it.” She helps you secure the hook and eye in the back of the dress, holding your hair over your shoulder so it’s not in her way. “I was pretty drunk when I got this one. But I do love it. So, maybe. It makes me feel mysterious, you know?” 

With the dress fastened, you stand in front of the mirror and adjust a few things. The thing you’re always the most concerned about with this costume is the chest area, naturally. If you situate the lace just right over your breasts, there’s not quite a full view of your intimate area. But there’s still enough to add a little sensuality to it. 

“Damn, y/n.” Nat says, her eyes trailing your chest as you get yourself adjusted just the way you like. 

“What?” You say through a giggle. 

“Oh, nothing,” she says. You can see her devious grin in her reflection of the mirror in front of you as she’s pulling your hair off your shoulder, smoothing out the kinks. “Just that Danny’s lucky he snatched me up when did.” Her golden eyes lock with your reflection as she winks and chuckles. “You’re just too gorgeous, girl.” 

You playfully roll your eyes as you both break out in a fit of giggles. (You wish everyone saw you that way. Jake, mostly.) With a final onceover of your liquid lipstick, blotting your lips and cleaning up the edges, you feel you’re about as ready as you can be for tonight's scene. 

“Well, he better watch his back,” you say, opening Jake’s door and walking through the threshold, Nat following close behind. “I could still steal you away.” More laughter sounds from you two as you head down the hallway, walking past the living room and up the staircase to the loft.

Danny is waiting at the top of the stairs, and when Nat makes it up to him, his toned arms wrap her in a full hug. “What are you two laughing about?” He asks, planting a sweet kiss to her temple.

Neither one of you says a word as you throw a silent wink towards Nat, letting the laughter bubbling within you both burst through yet again. 

“What?” He insists. 

Without an explanation, the two of you lock arms and proceed to the film set, leaving him still asking what the commotion is all about, but letting him sit in his wonder while you walk away together.

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“You ready for this?” Sam whispers to you, his face mere inches from yours. With you splayed out on your back, and he perched on his side right next to you, arm draped across your body, you’re positioned just the way Josh had in mind for the beginning of the shoot.

His smile, infectious and beautiful as always, warms your soul (and your body) and has you feeling very much at ease as you mentally prepare for this scene. You haven’t filmed with him in a while, and you’ve been so busy with the utter shitshow your life has been lately that you’ve just not been able to see him much. Feeling him this close to you again after all this time, you’d hate to admit just how nice it feels. 

It feels really fucking nice. You hadn’t realized how bad you missed it, how bad you missed him.

“I think so,” you mutter, smiling at him while he looks at you with heavy, lust filled eyes. “But, are you ready?”

He brushes a stray strand of hair from your face, tucking it lovingly behind your ear with a peculiar smirk across his lips. You can’t see Jake, but you can hear the prolonged sigh from his lips as he’s positioned just outside the bedroom door, awaiting his cue to barge in on the two of you. 

“I think you already know the answer to that,” he confirms, sending off his words with a wink before he shifts his attention to your director.. “I think we’re good to go, Josh!”

Josh confirms with a nod of his head, gesturing a thumbs up to Malachi to dim the overhead lighting and giving Danny the “okay” to shine a little spotlight on the bed you’re on. 

“Scene 73, take one.” He doesn’t yet have a cue card, so with (a rather loud) clap of his hands, he yells, “ACTION!”

As soon as the scene begins, you’re fully encompassed by your alter, the ever sought after Queen Quiniverre. Every insecurity, every doubt, all but washes away once Josh says the word. You’re not you anymore; you feel as though everything you hate about yourself doesn’t exist within this realm. You’re not you, and Guinevere would never be insecure about the things that you are. 

And that’s exactly what inspires you to be the best Guinevere that you can be. You wish, more than anything, that you had her confidence. But even if you don’t have it, she does. And at least you can know what it’s like, even if the moments are short. 

Once Sam says his few words of dialogue, he leans in to envelop you in a passionate kiss full of burning desire. Bodies tangled, hands searching one another; a moment of pure ecstasy shared between two secret lovers, bound together by a love so deceitful to the King. 

And then, you hear him. He walks through the threshold with heavy feet, his breathing stern and labored. 

“I thought I knew better than to heed Mordred's vile words of my first in command. And yet, I find that I needn’t worry of his lies, only those of my beloved and her dearest, both of whom betray their King.” 

He unsheathes his sword, a motion to take Lancelot for himself. To battle to the death for their prize who lie in the bed before them. 

…his voice. 

It echoes throughout the entire room, the entire apartment. The anger he’s displaying is being pulled from somewhere deep within him, exhibiting itself through the King as he’s finally privy to his wife's infidelity. The volume nearly startles you from your position on the bed. You didn’t expect such vibrancy from him, such passion to be exuded through him. He’s speaking his dialogue perfectly, acting through it as though he’s done it a hundred times over. He’s still using his accent, but it’s believable this time. It’s coming through much more powerful than the last time you heard it. 

“My once most trusted comrade, you must die at my hands for treason. The highest crime against your king, to lay with his precious Guinevere, deserves no less than a death of the highest order.” 

His accent, where it was once convincing and accurate, has now begun to falter under the pressure of the scene. He’s beginning to sound less like the betrayed king, and more like an pissed off Jake.  

He continues to hold his sword out firm, glaring at Lancelot with a fiery anger from the depths of his soul, until he shifts them to you. The same anger geared towards you, only it doesn’t feel as though it’s Arthur looking at Guinevere, it’s more like Jake looking at you. And the extent of it is making you more uncomfortable as the seconds (that feel more like hours) are passing without a word from either of them. 

It’s supposed to be Sam’s turn to speak, but it’s likely that he’s caught on to the tension pouring from Jake, and the tensions that lie in the space between you and him. 

“Sam!” Jake screams, causing you to jolt from the sheer volume. “Say your fucking line so we can get this over with and I can get the fuck away from all of you!”

“Woah, woah,” Josh interjects, motioning for Malachi to turn the lights back on as he cuts the camera. “What the fuck, Jake? What’s your problem?”

Jake tosses his sword to the floor, taking off his cloak and throwing it towards Josh who hardly has enough warning to catch it. “This, Josh. This is my fucking problem!” Jake fumes, gesturing his flexed arms towards you and Sam as you’re both struck silent by his sudden outburst. “I can’t perform with this, I won’t.” 

You look to Sam as he blinks a few times, as if suddenly being pulled out of his state of utter shock at his brother's actions. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Sam challenges, getting up from his position and leaving you there by yourself. 

Danny grabs Nat’s arm to take her out of the room, and she’s waving for you to join her. But you don’t want to leave, not yet. You don’t normally stick around for a full blown, Kiszka fight. But you have to hear what Jake is going to say for yourself. 

“It means, Sam, that I can’t stand working with you,” he looks to you, still on the bed but now in an upright position as you watch the scene unfold before you. “Or her.” 

What the fuck–?

Josh is pleading with him to calm down, but he won’t have it. He brushes him off when his twin offers a comforting hand to his arm. 

“Fuck this goddamn film and fuck every single one of you that has anything to do with it! It’s fucking bullshit. I’m sorry, Josh. I’m fucking done.”

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You can’t take it any longer. You storm out after him, heedless of everyone else, ignoring their presence and pushing your way through to reach him. 

He slams his door but you waste no time in opening it immediately after, refusing to let him shut you or anyone else out after such a blow-up.

There’s not much light in his room, save for the lamp in the corner shining a warm hue on the space. The calming aura of his room means nothing in comparison to the tensions between you two— the ever growing tensions that now feel sharper than any blade.

He stands facing his bed, his back turned to you. As soon as you enter the room and shut the door behind you, he quickly turns on his heel to face you. And he does not look pleased, his features etched with irritation. But you continue to stand your ground, not willing to budge anytime soon.

“What the fuck are you doing in here?” He growls, deep enough for your bones to feel it. His cheeks are flushed and there’s sweat accumulated between his knitted brows. That familiar flare of his nostrils makes an appearance and his lips are pursed in a tight scowl.

Normally, you’d cower down to anyone who’d find it in themselves to speak to you this way. You’d hide yourself, hide your feelings, stay quiet and out of the way. Give into them to keep the peace. But right now, fuck keeping the goddamn peace. You’ve kept it for far too long at this point and you’re done allowing yourself to be invisible any longer.

“My clothes are in here and I need to change since you selfishly decided that filming is over for the night,” you simper back, your volume challenging his. “And I’m also here to figure out what the fuck your problem with me is!”

His furious stare is penetrating your very soul, his eyes the darkest you’ve yet to see them. His fists are clenched and his biceps are bulging so much you’re just waiting for the chainmail sleeves to give way. 

But you’ve never seen him look better. 

“Problem?” He begins closing the short distance between you, practically stomping across the carpeted floor, flailing his arms about as he speaks. “What the fuck are you talking about?” The heat behind his tone grows stronger and stronger, his gaze on you darkening by the second. 

You refuse to break eye contact while you snicker and shake your head at him playing stupid with you. He knows exactly what you’re talking about. But he’s clearly choosing to play dumb with you, acting like he hasn’t put you on a fucking roller coaster with him since the day he was shoved into your already messy life. If he wants to keep playing games with you, then you have no problem playing your own against him. 

You’re still in your revealing attire, your breasts nearly on full display, the entirety of your form leaving next to nothing to the imagination— to Jake's imagination. You’re privy to his numerous glances at your breasts. You won’t pretend you’re not, and you can’t hold back the satisfied, devious curl of your lips each time you catch his gaze. You should find the urge to cover up, to hide yourself or wait until you can change to confront him.

But that’s not what you intend to do. Wearing this dress brings out a part of you that you’ve come to cherish— it cloaks you in a confident aura that you’ve lacked all your life. And as much as he tries to pretend it means nothing to him, you know the effect this dress has on him. You’ve seen it firsthand for yourself. He can try to hide it all he wants, but you and him both know what it did to him the first time he saw you wearing it in this very room. You may as well use that to your advantage right now. 

You feel powerful, in control. Those doubtful thoughts you were having earlier tonight about yourself have lowered their volume nearly to a full mute. If he can’t handle talking to you like this, then he can’t handle you.

“You’re fine with me one minute,” you huff a snarky giggle, standing firm and refusing to bring your arms up to cover yourself, even with his continuous gazing.“Then you act like you can’t stand my very existence the next. I’m just fucking confused, Jake. If you hate me so goddamn much, why don’t you ask me to leave? You don’t need me to do this fucking film. Why don’t you find some other unsuspecting girl and rid yourself of me once and for all?”

With as much of yourself as you’ve invested in this film, and the new found sense of self-assurance being in front of Josh’s camera has given you, you don’t want to quit this project. If walking away was truly what you wanted, you would have done so a long time ago. And deep down, you want to believe that if Jake truly wanted you to leave, he would’ve demanded it already. But right now, all you can think about is that conversation you overheard weeks ago. 

“I only asked her because I had to…I was not about to work on something alone with her.” 

It’s something you’ve not let yourself forget. Even after everything he’s done for you— helping you with your mom, staying the night with you when it felt like your world was crumbling— none of it seems to matter because of  his words that linger in your mind like a never ending echo. He wouldn’t have said them if he didn’t feel them. That much, you’re certain of.

And after what he said to you in class…it was a harsh reality that you weren’t ready to face. He validated your deepest fears of not belonging, of not being accepted. Every hurtful thing he’s ever said about you, each cutting remark he’s said to you are repeating relentlessly in your head. 

“I don’t hate you, y/n!” He shouts through gritted teeth. He takes a few steps towards you, leaving only inches of space between your bodies. His eyes are still fixed in their vexed glare, yet there’s something different behind their darkened gaze. “I don’t hate you.”

“Then…” Your voice is shaky as you try to raise it. You have to look up at him to see his face, he is so close to you. Your trembling body begins fighting against your accusatory words. “Then why did you say you only asked me because you had to? That you didn’t want to work on something alone with me?” Of everything he’s ever done to you, those words hurt the most.

“Because I can’t…” He throws his arms up in frustration, shaking his head as he looks away from you. “...I can’t trust myself to be alone with you. And I can’t fucking stand it when—” He stops himself before he can continue, his index and thumb tightly gripping his chin, almost and if to physically stop himself. 

“You can’t stand what, Jake?” Your anger surges, overpowering everything else. Your vision blurs and your limbs are tingling with pure rage. “What the fuck do I do that you can’t stand so badly?” 

He snaps his head towards you, his loose waves, making a luscious display around his handsome face. “I can’t stand seeing you with him.” He points to the photo on his dresser, the one of him and his brothers. The one with Sam. “You think it’s fucking easy for me to see you with him like that? Especially knowing what happened between you two the night we all went to the stupid fucking haunted house.” 

Now you’re pissed. Not only is his reasoning ridiculous, he’s also accusing you of something that didn’t happen. This isn’t your fault. None of this is. And for him to treat you like shit because of that?

“You don’t know shit, Jake!” Your voice rises to a near scream, letting go of any pretense of holding back. “Nothing happened that night, and even if it had, why the hell do you care? What makes you think you have any right to be pissed about anything that I do? I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you; this is your fault! So your reasoning is, frankly, complete bullshit. And I’m not buying any of it.” You’re yelling so loudly your voice is cracking and breaking, your words reverberating with raw, pissed off emotion. No one has ever provoked you to this level of anger. No one except your dad, when he decided out of the fucking blue to leave you. You hate that he’s brought out this side of you. “You act like that because you can’t stand the very thought of me,” you continue. “Just tell me you want nothing more to do with me and I’ll walk right out that door. You’ll never have to see me again.”

He stands still for a while, silently staring at the floor. He brings his hand up to rub his chin, something you’ve seen him do a hundred times, when his mind is racing about something. Josh almost always points it out. He does it a lot during filming, during your scenes with Sam. Especially during the ones when you’re wearing the very outfit you’re standing before him in right now. 

Then, he takes two more steps, until he’s close enough to you that you can feel his heaving breaths against your already heated skin. His demeanor has changed. He doesn’t seem angry anymore. The way he’s looking down at you…he now seems desperate. 

“I can’t stand the way he looks at you…the way you look at him,” he whispers, his eyes traveling the curve of your breasts as his lungs deflate letting out a deep sigh. His eyelids have become heavy over his whiskey colored eyes that flick back to yours. “I can’t stand it…because I wish it were me.” His voice, once harsh and furious, is now a deep, hushed whisper. It’s low, gravelly in pitch. 

It���s fucking sexy. But you’re still not convinced. You need more. You’re sick of thinking he likes you for a split second, then pulling himself away when he feels you’re getting too close. 

No. Not this time. If he pulls away again, you’re done. Out the door. Gone from his life and free to live yours without him and this film. You’ll take a failing grade if it means you don’t have to go through this anymore.

“I don’t believe you, Jake.” Your words are stern, but your body language begins deceiving your cold statement. You’re trembling, vibrating through to your very core. No matter how pissed you are, you can’t fight this incessant attraction you’ve felt for him for a long time now. You fought fiercely in the beginning, had completely convinced yourself that he was nothing more than a handsome jerk who harbored feelings of distaste towards you. 

But fuck. That made you want him more. His mystery, his demeanor. The kindness that seeped through every now and again. Nat was right; you’d always known it was there. His genuine heart is sometimes too strong to stay masked behind this rough act he's tried to uphold. It's broken before you enough times to know that it’s there. And maybe it’s because of you that it's breaking more and more. His guard is falling. That’s why you’re so fucking pissed that he’s fighting every second to keep it up. And what you just said…it's not that you don’t believe him. A big part of you does. You’ve seen the way he looks at you, the way he was completely dumbfounded the first time he saw you in this lace dress. The way he seethes when you’re with Sam. On camera or not. 

But right now, you need to fucking see it. To see that side of him that you know is buried within. It’s not enough to simply hear his words; you need him to prove it to you. You’re tired of the back and forth with him. This is his opportunity to show you what ever the fuck it is that he wants from you.

There’s a look of confliction as his hand reaches out to you tentatively, his fingers playing with the lace on your shoulder. They move, hovering just inches over your collar bone before his fingertips delicately skate over the skin with such a gentle, intentional touch. Your breath catches in your throat, your heart pounding as you feel the warmth of his touch.

“I’ve wanted to touch you…” His fingers follow the curve of your neck, passing over your pulse point, tracing a path along the curve of your jawline. “...just like this since the day I fucking laid eyes on you. And seeing my brother get to do it…” Your bottom lip is lightly tugged by the pad of his thumb, smearing the dark lipstick. “...it eats me up inside, y/n. I don’t think I can watch him kiss these lips one more time.” His focus is now entirely fixed on your lips, as his tongue gracefully glides over his own. Your craving for him intensifies with every passing moment. Each second fuels the fiery need within you.

“Then…why don’t you just do it?” The words fall straight from your mouth before you can even think twice about saying them, hanging in the air that’s slowly shifting from an angry tension to a much different kind. Your eyes lock yet again, each of you silently pleading with the other to bridge this divide between you once and for all.

With one hand still caressing your face and finding the small of your back, he pulls you flush against him, holding you tight against his warm body. He leans in, his lips brushing over yours, a feather-light caress that steals your breath. 

And as if you’re pulled together by an invisible tether, your lips finally meet. 

It starts slow, almost hesitant. But the intensity begins growing as your emotions are spilling over, fueling the kiss with a passion that is closer to desperation. His hand finds your hair, tangling your soft locks as he pulls you even closer, deepening your embrace with a hunger born of a longing that’s finally being set free.

You can feel his walls crumbling before you, letting break through his barrier. The insurmountable distance that was created between you, not only physically but emotionally, has at last been closed. 

His tongue glides across your teeth, drawing your bottom lip firmly between his. He serenades your mouth with the most beautiful melody, eliciting a yearning that forces your thighs to come together in an attempt to soothe the desire pulsing between them.

He tastes like the sweetest honey infused bourbon. His lips are soft, putting the most sumptuous velvet to shame. 

The hand resting on your back glides upward along your torso, stopping just before he reaches your heaving breast. His lips break from yours before he tugs on the hair at the nape of your neck, fully exposing the expanse to him. 

“Jake…” You start, but he’s already so attuned to your desires that you don’t have to say another word before his mouth meets your taut skin. His tongue traces along your neck, stopping to suckle the skin. A strained moan sounds from deep within you, eliciting a sensual snicker, reveling in the response he’s drawing from you.

“You smell so good,” he mumbles against you, sealing his compliment with a kiss. As if you’re not falling apart enough, you nearly melt into him when his hand finally caresses over your full breast. “This okay? Can I touch you here?” He whispers softly in the shell of your ear, his words both a question and a promise of his respect for you.

“Please, Jake, more” you whimper through heaving breaths. 

He groans deeply against your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine as he teases your hardened nipple through the flimsy lace. You practically cry out for him, your body squirming with anticipation, begging him for more. He shushes you gently. “I’ve only just begun,” he whispers, his index finger tracing slow circles over your sensitive bud. “Let me take my time with you.”

He pinches your nipple, playful smirk gracing his lips as he chases the sounds escaping your parted mouth. 

You clutch his biceps tight, anchoring him to you to keep him from slipping away. He hisses as your nails dig into his skin, only igniting his desire for you.

“Do you believe me yet?” He whispers, his lips grazing your jawline.

While there’s not an ounce of lingering suspicion within you, you dare to toy with him a little further.

“Nuh uh, not yet.” You respond quietly, your body betraying you as your desire is displayed physically. He can sense it, and the mischievous grin curved on his lips assures you he’s privy to your little game.

“Feel how much I want you.” And with that, his hand takes yours, guiding it to his pulsing cock that’s straining against his black pants, imploring you to feel the undeniable need he has for you.

He throbs beneath your touch as you palm him through the satin fabric that still conceals him, keeping in time with your own racing heart. His breath hitches, he whimpers beautifully in your ear as you continue to feel him, and if it were even possible, he’s becoming even harder against your touch, desperate to remove the confines of his pants.

“Holy fuck, Jake…” 

Your legs press together once more at the feeling of him, his sheer size and thickness that is obvious even through the barrier between you. All you can think about is how he’d feel nestled away deep inside of you, filling you with every inch. He’s massive, that much you can tell, even through the barrier.

“Yeah?” He hums through heavy breaths. “That’s all for you, love.”

His words have your arousal nearly dripping down your thighs, your body growing more impatient by the second.

“Lay down for me,” he mutters in your ear. “Just like you were for the scene. Only this time, for me.” 

His words, almost possessive in their wake, leave you speechless and craving him even more. He lightly motions you in the direction of his bed, keeping his eyes locked with yours. 

Once you lie down, just as you did just moments ago, he positions himself at the end of the bed while he looks at you, taking in the vision before him. 

Normally, you wouldn’t have half the confidence for a moment such as this, and it’s for that very reason you’re glad  you’re in this very dress. It’s been the source of most confident moments as of late; it only makes sense that you’re wearing it in real life with Jake. 

As he begins to remove his chainmail top, you tremble at seeing him so bare. You’d seen it before, but not like this. This time, he’s taking it off for you, removing yet another barrier that exists between the two of you. 

You’re breathless at the sight of him. His pecs, sculpted and chiseled, rising and falling with his deep breaths. The smooth expanse of his unflawed skin, begging to be touched and explored. And his broad, sturdy shoulders that beckon you to sink your nails into, to keep a tight grip against while he’s on top of you. 

“Look at you,” he mutters, his eyes tracing every curve  of your body as he climbs onto the bed, hovering over you as though he’s not done looking at you just yet. “You’re a fucking queen,” he whispers, his voice husky and filled with desire. Finally, he leans in, his lips meeting yours with a tender gentleness, leaving you yearning for more as he lifts away again just slightly. “A beautiful queen.” 

He kisses you once again, this time hungrier than the last. His hands roam your body with a newfound intensity, each touch igniting a fire within you that leaves your body arching towards him, begging for more. More of him.

His lips trail down your neck, leaving a path of kisses along your skin as his body slowly lowers down yours. You suck in a deep gasp as his warm, wet tongue follows a slow trail from your belly button, gliding all the way up to your chest, tracing along the curve of your breast. 

His lips suck a mark right where his tongue stops, leaving a bruise right where the fabric ends along your chest.

“So pretty,” he mumbles against the bruise his lips left on your taut skin, marveling at his work. “All marked up from me. Want to mark you up everywhere…”

His focus seems deliberate, as if he’s determined to leave his mark where it will be most visible during your scenes, his attention fixed solely on the skin peeking out amidst the black lace. 

“This…will be hard to cover up for filming, Jake…” you utter, breathless from your purely aroused state. 

“No,” he whispers between leaving his mark right in the middle of your breasts. “Don’t cover them. Let them see.”

Before you can continue your weak protest, he carefully pushes back the lace over your left breast, fully unveiling it before him. He shushes you as his lips instantly attach to your perked nipple, sucking it deep within his mouth, softly nibbling at it all while his hand removes the lace from your right breast, kneading the flesh between his fingers.

But as he does so, you feel your body begin to tense when you discover his fingers are all over the area covered with makeup. The area with your tattoo. It feels too fucking good to make him stop, but that same feeling that overcame you when Sam unsuspectingly saw it is blazing within you. 

Once you shift your eyes to his hand, you notice the makeup smeared almost completely, the red ink bleeding through to present itself, even if you aren’t ready for it to.

“Jake I…” 

But it’s too late. As he lifts to switch his attention to your right breast, he sees it. His eyes are fixed on your etched secret, mouth lazily agape at this small piece of you he’s discovering for the first time. 

“H…holy fuck,” he stammers, leaning in to peck his lips against the word along the tender spot. “This is so sexy I just…” he brings up his finger, tracing the “R”, then the “E”, the “D”

“Do you like it?” you ask him, feeling a rush of confidence wash over you.

Your initial hesitation has all but vanished. It's so different with Jake…something about the way he makes you feel, the way he brings out this part of you that no one else does. Not even Sam.

“I love this, y/n,” his lips meet the ink once more, decorating it with wet kisses. 

“I…I’ve always been so scared for people to see…” Your words would hardly be legible if he wasn’t so close to you. Your mumbled tone is evidence of how he’s affecting you, what he’s doing to you. “... and it’s not exactly accurate for the film,” you mutter through a weak chuckle.  

“Does anyone else know?” he quietly implores. “Does Sam know?” 

“No.” 

The word flies out of you before you can even take a second to think about it. It’s a lie. Sam does know. But that doesn’t matter to you right now. And Jake doesn’t need to know of what you almost did with his brother in a shitty attempt to get to him. 

“Only Natalia knows.”

“Good,” he mumbles between leaving more kisses along your breast, slowly creeping closer towards your erect nipple.“Let’s keep it that way.”

His tongue lightly flicks the sensitive bud, drawing languid circles around it while his fingers follow the same motion of the other breast.

With the way his body is positioned between your legs, you can’t close your thighs together to ease the ache between them. It doesn’t stop you from trying, though, and when he notices, he grins against your supple flesh, looking up at you to see your completely fucked out state. He understands what you need without a word, and he begins to shift his body even further down your own, keeping your legs spread and his mouth trailing down your flesh, until his face is nearly level with your throbbing core. 

The slit in your dress proves to be quite convenient at the moment, enabling your legs to spread easily while the only coverage you have is from the thong that perfectly matches your skin tone.

As his lips brush against your inner thigh, his warm breath leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake, you find yourself instinctively arching your hips closer to him, craving whatever pleasure he can offer.

“You smell so fucking good, love,” he mutters. 

You’re silently praising yourself for thinking to add your body oil to your thighs, not realizing you were doing it for Jake. 

He’s not done marking you up just yet, as he sucks long and deep on the flesh of your inner thigh, eliciting a high pitched moan from deep within your being, your hand quickly flying up to stifle your sounds. 

“This one is just for me,” he mumbles against the bruise, tracing it delicately with the tip of  his finger. “And only for me.”

“Jake, please…I need more,” you cry out, your voice trembling with desperation as he stares deeply into your heavy, longing eyes. 

“What do you need, beautiful?” He probes, peppering your thigh with gentle kisses, following a slow path towards where you crave his lips the most.

“Jake…”  

“Tell me what you need,” he says in a hushed voice, his lips trailing a delicate kiss just above your throbbing clit. “Just tell me and I’ll do everything in my power. It’s the least I can do for you…please, let me make everything up to you.”

“Jake I don’t care anymore I just—” you reach down to brush a loose strand out of his face, fingers grazing over his sharp jawline as he leans in, leaving a sweet kiss in the middle of your palm. “I just need you.”

A devious, sinful smirk graces lips as his attention diverts to your aching heat. 

With his index finger, he traces the wetness you’ve left on the fabric of your panties, drawing slow and lazy circles over your clothed clit. 

“Can I take these off?” He asks, his blown pupils dark with need as his question almost sounds as though he’s begging. “Want to see you, all pretty and wet for me.” 

“It’s all for you, Jake.” 

“Fuck, baby,” he groans. His hands, strong and firm, reach up to your hips, tugging at the sides of your thong as you lift yourself to help him pull it down your thighs. “That’s what I like to hear.”

He helps you lift your right leg out, then your left leg, placing your panties on the edge of the bed once they’re finally off of you. 

Out of everyone you’ve ever been with, no one has ever taken this much time with you. Not once has anyone asked what you need, what you want. It's a side of Jake you never expected to see. In a thousand years, you wouldn't have imagined him being this attentive, this caring toward you. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he hums, his eyes longing fixed on your dripping core. “Every single part of you, just perfect.”

You instinctively jolt once his lips attach to your already sensitive clit, sucking it gently, his warm tongue swirling around it. With a tender touch, he holds your hips down in place, keeping you still for him as he explores you.

“Jake, oh my god, plea–”

He cuts off your words with a long glide of his tongue from you leaking entrance to your aching clit, sealing with a deep kiss to your throbbing bud, drawing a sharp gasp from you.

With his middle finger, he prods your entrance before slowly pushing it all the way in, finally filling you as you clench hard around his long digit. His grip on your hips does little to restrain you; you find yourself grinding against him, yearning for more of his touch. His tongue dances over your clit while his finger delves deeper into you, setting an delicious rhythm that has you craving more.

Then, he adds a second finger, filling and stretching you around him even more. His thrusts quicken, driving you closer to the edge with each brush of his fingers inside of you. 

Your hands instinctively find his soft locks, fingers entwining in the strands and tugging. A low moan escapes him, sending vibrations against your core.

“Just like that, Jake, just like tha–” 

But just as you're nearing your peak, there’s a sudden knock at the door that causes Jake’s fingers to still their movement, keeping them inside of you as he lifts his face that’s now glistening from your dripping arousal. 

“Jake? Are you and y/n okay?” It’s Josh. He sounds concerned, distressed. It’s sweet, although his timing is…awful. “You’ve been in there for a while…we’re just worried about you guys.”

Shit.

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

a/n: oof. that was a lot. thank you for sticking with me, lol.

who do we think the mysterious Dodger could be?

i'd love to hear your thoughts! don't be afraid to reach out; hearing from you all keeps me going.

if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters, follow this link or let me know & i'll be sure to add you. ☺️ (let me know if i've missed you)

sending all my love!

taglist:

@jakeyt @alwaysonthemend @sacredjake @jakesgrapejuice @misshunnybee @reesetrippingthelight @way-to-go-lad @sinarainbows @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @klarxtr @watchingover-hypegirl @brinlygvf @stardustjake @gretavanbear @gvfmelbourne @sinsofstardust @literal-dead-leaf @gvf-ficreads @jaaakeeey @capturethechaos @neptune2324 @jaketlove @thetroublegetssoloud71 @myleftsock @sanguinebats @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @joshskittytickler @violet-hayes @aflameforgoinghome @heckingfrick @fitalich @starshine-gvf @audgeppp @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @nina-23-45 @torniturntomyarrow @beautifulcrayola @writingcold @welllauragvf @loveisonaroll @itsafullmoon @gretasfallingsky @i-love-gvf @kiszkas-canvas @mackalah @gvfmarge @sarafrusciante2 @jordie-gvf @gretavansara @highway-tuna @vikingsisthenewsexy @louiseecraigg @hippievanfleet @citylight-delight @blacksoul-27

[ghostboneswrites2]

Sick of You pt.2

Second part to this request.

Summary: Reader saves Daryl's ass again and finally gets the respect she deserves.

18+ MDNI || Warnings: TWD Typical violence, profanity, over the counter drugs

        Things have gotten better since your heated exchange with Daryl in the woods. You two haven't grown any closer, but you don't feel the need to avoid him anymore. The most you get is a curt nod when he passes you by. You're fine with that, though. 

        Today is your rest day, so aside from morning and afternoon inventory, you don't have any chores on your itinerary, which you are grateful for. Most people get rest days once a week, but you tend to be forgotten in that regard, so yours aren't nearly as frequent. Your only plans for the day are to sleep, eat, drink, and repeat. That is, of course, until;

        "Hey, (Y/N)? I hate to ask, but everyone else is swamped with work today. Daryl was supposed to be back hours ago. I'm worried something might've happened." Rick asks, leaning on the bars of your cell. You reluctantly uncrust your sleepy eyes and stare down at him. "It was supposed to be a quick in-and-out at the pharmacy just a few miles down the road due south. It's a small town, barely any walkers last I was there. Think you could go and see what you see?"

        You sigh and sit up. "Sure." You croak.

        "I really wouldn't ask if--"

        "It's okay. Really. I don't mind." You wave him off. You do mind, actually, quite a bit. However, it's only fair if you're the only one not working.

        "I'll load a car for you. Just get yourself ready. I'll have all the supplies you need in the car." He says. You nod and he walks away. With a groan, you yawn and stretch before quickly throwing on your cleanest jeans and least stained shirt. 

        "All loaded up." Rick informs you as you approach the vehicle. "Water, snacks, weapons, some tools if ya need 'em." 

        "Cool." You nod. "Thanks. I'll be back."

        "Be safe."

----

        The town was not clear of walkers. Not at all. There was a swarm of them around the little drug store where Daryl was supposed to be, and judging by how desperately the walkers clawed at the building, you could only assume he was trapped in there. God damn it.

        "Shit." You mumble as you slowly drive by the building. A few walkers turn their attention to you, but not enough. Then, you remember the Bon Jovi CD Rick had tucked away in the glove compartment. "Hell yeah." You smirk to yourself as you stop the car and slide the disc into the player. You crank the radio as loud as it'll go. The first song that plays feels ironic, as it's called Wanted Dead or Alive. You shrug it off and honk the horn, revving the engine, trying to gain as much undead attention as you can.

        "Come on you dead fucks!" You call out of your cracked window that you inched down for airflow. "Come and get me!"

        The dead begin to peel away from the building, inching toward your car in a swarm. Before you can get buried too deep in corpses, you press the gas, driving just fast enough that they couldn't catch up, but not so fast they'd lose interest.

        For the sake of spirit, you belt out the lyrics you know. Any extra noise to draw them after you.

        "I'm a cowboy, on a steel horse I ride.. I'm wanted dead or alive.. Wanted dead or alive"

        You can't help but laugh at the stupidity of the situation. The song, the walkers, the way you're singing. It was like going on a road trip with a divorced dad or something. As you peek in the rearview mirror you realize just how many of them were after you now. At least twenty, maybe more. There was no way you'd be able to fight them all off, not even with Daryl's help. You resort to taking a turn down a random street, hoping it would circle back to the main road and you'd be able to lose them that way. 

        Luck is not on your side today, though. The road turns out to be a dead end. What are your options here? This puttering little car wouldn't survive a rogue assault if you tried to mow through the herd. No, you'd have to get clever, and fast, because your car is stopped and they're getting close.

        In a fit of quick thinking, you throw the bag Rick packed for you over your shoulder and make a run for it into the trees surrounding the street. You leave the car running with the music blaring. Hopefully that will keep the bulk of them focused on the car while you make a break for it.

        The plan works for the most part. Any of them that followed you into the trees are too far back to be an immediate concern, and the few stragglers in the woods that are being drawn to the sound of the radio are easy enough to take down if they get too close for comfort.

        You dodge branches and fallen logs as you bolt through the trees back toward the main road. When it's in sight, you're relieved to see only a small amount of walkers remained. You don't worry about them. Instead you backtrack to the pharmacy as fast as you can, hoping Daryl will still be there waiting for you so you don't have to try to get back to the prison on your own without wheels.

        Your chest is starting to feel tight and hot as the cardio catches up to you. As you slow to a slow jog, you peer over your shoulder. Five or so walkers are behind you, but you have enough distance on them to ignore them for the time being. You decide to keep your slow jogging pace. The pharmacy is in view now. All you have to do is keep going forward, so you do.

        When you make it, you're completely out of breath. The vehicle Daryl took that morning is still there, so you know he hasn't left, and if he did he's on foot, which wouldn't be smart. You tug at the doors but they don't budge. You look back down the road. The walkers are a bit closer now.

        "Daryl!" You call at the glass, hoping he hears you. "Daryl let me in!"

        You slap at the glass but there's no movement from inside. 

        "Shit!" You exclaim. The walkers seem to be moving faster now that you're beginning to panic. You run around the building to see if there's a back door you can slide in through. There is, but it's locked. "Damnit!" You shout, kicking at the metal door. You know it won't open,  but you figure maybe the banging of your boot against the metal will inspire Daryl to let you in. Speaking of, why isn't he letting you in? "Daryl! You okay in there?" You call for him. You don't have time to wait for a response. 

        Snarling bodies are creeping around the corner of the building. You pull your knife from your belt and ready it as you back away slowly. You can't decide if you should take them on or not. There are only a few, but there's still only one of you. "Fuck it." You mutter, lunging to stab one in the skull before backing away again. 

        You continue this maneuver as you circle the building. You keep your distance, lunge at one, then back away again. When you make it around the front again, you see movement from inside. "Daryl!" You call out. There are only two walkers left. You can take them, but you can't take the rest that are sure to find their way back to you.

        The door swings open, and a bolt flies into one of the walkers. With haste you take down the last one and retrieve the arrow before you run inside. Daryl slams the door behind you and locks it.

        "The hell you doin' out here, girl?" He hisses.

        "Saving your ass, Dixon." You cross your arms triumphantly. "Which, I did a pretty damn good job at."

        He ignores your gloating and drags you away from the glass, crouching with you behind the sales counter.

        "The herd. That was you?" He asks.

        "Yup. Bon Jovi came in clutch, if I do say so myself." You grin.

        "Huh." He nods. "Well, we still got another problem."

        "What is it?"

        "The car. Someone siphoned the gas out while I was in here grabbin' the meds.Didn't even hear 'em. Tried to start it up and it wouldn't crank, so I got out and saw the gas tank open."

        "Shit." You throw your head back. "I had to ditch the other car to evade the damn freaks."

        "Alright." He sighs. "We just need a plan, and fast. Before that herd circles back."

        "Okay." You take a breath. "So, no vehicle, herd incoming, need a plan... Why don't we just book it? Run as fast as we can through the trees before the walkers come back. The prison is only a few miles away. We can be back bye tonight."

        "Nah. No idea how many of 'em are out there, or who else is out there. Walkers don't get tired, we do." He shakes his head.

        "Well, do we really have another option?" 

        "Guess not." He nods. "Here." He holds out a packet of pills. You examine the label.

        "Caffeine pills?" You press your brows together.

        "Worth a shot. Might keep us goin' longer." He shrugs. You nod. 

        "Good idea." You say as you pop two pills out of the packet and swallow them. You pull a water bottle from your bag and chug it, offering it to him when you're done. He takes two pills for himself and takes a few swigs of water before you pack the bottle away and stand up. 

        "Ready?" He asks.

        "Yeah, but first I gotta ask. Why didn't you let me in the first time I tried?" You wonder.

        "Passed out. Walker was in here, caught me off guard. I hit my head. Stayed up long enough to lock the doors. Woke up to you bangin' in the back."

        "Oh." You nod. "I'll forgive you this time."

        With that. the two of you run out of the back and into the trees behind the parking lot. You follow him, assuming he knows where he's going, and don't stop until you can't run anymore.

        By that point its nightfall. 

        "Daryl." You pant. "I can't anymore."

        He slows down and leans on a tree, propping his hands on his knees while he catches his breath.

        "Okay. We walk from here." He agrees.

        "Here." You offer him some water, which he gladly takes. You drink some too before tucking it away again. You stumble behind him as the two of you walk, exhausted from sprinting and coming down from the caffeine rush.

        "So." You begin.

        "So?"

        "So... I showed you what I can do." You gloat.

        "Yeah." He sighs. "Ya did good, (Y/N)."

Join the taglist! || Masterlist

tags: @kissmeunicornbaobei @thesadcatt0 @clairealeehelsing @duckybird101 @tmntfixationxreader @ryoujoking @blackvelveteen1339 @yondus-girl @ladylincoln @sunshinebug9 @saylum559 @yoowhatthefuck

[cannellee]

May I make a comfort request with alpha baji and an omega reader who basically tries to go against their instinct nc they were raised in a household where they were shouted at, belittled and then ramen advantage of when they needed it the most. (During heat siblings would mess with them and fuck with their stuff and when darling got angry, they were ranted to fight and got their ass beat)

Sorry I'd it's a little specific, I'm just having a bad day right now and I guess I want comfort.

TOKYO REVENGERS OMEGAVERSE ★

୨୧ alpha! Baji x omega! Reader

— his reaction to an insecure & traumatised omega s/o.

tw : mention of domestic violence, psychological abuse...

(thank you for requesting🫶🏼, I really wish you get better and that everything's okay for you:( I hope you like it!! angst isn't what I'm best at so I hope it's still okay!)

my masterlist : ☆

you & baji met in a weird way, nobody would have assumed you would end up together.

baji was just so overwhelming, with strong pheromones, strong aura and a presence which subconsciously drew you to him.

and you were just an insecure omega, not as comfortable with your second gender as your counterparts were.

baji knew of your insecurities, that's why he always made sure to remind you of how perfect of an omega you were.

he would scent you every hour of the day, partly to claim you and keep away other alphas, but also to make it clear to you that you were loved. really loved.

coming into baji's life was the best thing to ever happen to you. you lacked so much confidence baji practically had to beg you to go out with him.

dozens of courting gifts were apparently not enough of a sign that he was clearly into you.

still, he was persistent and finally, you got your dream mate.

baji's the best alpha you could hope for. being aware of the way you were treated, he obviously did his best to make you feel safe and comfortable.

but there were days where your mood was worse than usual and baji just wasn't there at the right time to lift your mood up.

so here you were, gobbling up a fist full of pills to suppress your pheromones. your scent, as delicious as baji told you it was, disgusted you and you couldn't help but think about how your family would be way more satisfied if you got rid of it.

so you did. you also messed up your nest, destroying it and spreading the soft items baji precociously scented for you earlier this morning.

you curled up into yourself on your bed, hating your omega instincts for pleading you to get back into your nest, and cried yourself to sleep. it seems it's the only thing you're good for.

when baji came home and didn't immediately detect your strawberry scent, he knew something was wrong.

with his nose scrunched up and eyebrows frowning, he tried hard to smell you but he just couldn't.

when he called you and you didn't answer, he started to get anxious.

cautiously enters the living room and finds an empty bottle of pills, he paused for a second because those were pheromones suppressant your promised him to never use again.

those were bad for your health and baji thought he made sure to throw away all the remaining ones and lecture you to the importance of your well being.

he went to your bedroom, now more worried than ever and when he found you curled up in a ball and the end of the bed he thought he could feel his heart break.

baji quickly connects the dots when he cradles you in his arms and he doesn't even smell a thing coming from you. gently wakes you up and makes sure to let you know you're safe now.

he knows you're very vulnerable in this state, and although he's worried sick and a bit mad you neglected your health like that, he doesn't wish to alarm you any further.

although he can't sense any pheromones emanating from you, he just knows you're distressed and need his presence.

that's why he quickly reorganise your nest, scents everything he can and tucks you inside your poorly made shelter.

you're not fully conscious when his big arms hug your trembling frame, but his scent alone is enough of a relief that you don't even need to open your eyes.

he kisses you softly and makes sure you're as comfortable as one can be, covering you with blankets and letting your head rest against smooth pillows.

he soon spreads his own pheromones, making them sweeter than they normally are to appease you and pull your nose into the crook of his neck, where his scent is the strongest.

by the time you're fully awake, his presence calmed you down enough that you can completely look at him now.

his relief is visible by how his eyes soften when you give him an apologetic smile.

it pains baji to see his omega, the one he swore to protect, so weak and suffering.

he feels like a total failure, not good enough of an alpha for you.

later when you're doing better, he talks things out with you. make you promise once again to reach out to him, no matter when if you're feeling so terrible again.

if only baji could turn back time to shield you from all those people who hurt you, he would. his omega doesn't deserve the pain she's inflicting herself, both mentally and physically.

you're the best omega he could dream of, how could someone ever want to hurt you?

for now he needs to assure you it's totally fine being who you are ; yes you can surround the both of you with your oh so sweet smell, whine and complain about everything, let baji feed you and care for you.

he can be strong for the both of you, that's what he's good at<3

[hitomisuzuya]

🌸🌷hi! I was wondering if you could to an nsfw with a soft dom! Yandere! Kazuha? Where basically we, the reader, somehow accidentally took an aphrodisiac somehow (idk how you can come up with that part) and kazuha notices and decides to take care of that for us? Also pls fem! Reader pls, thank you

Btw I put the flowers there so that I can tell that it's my request and not another persons, anyways thank you bye :D!!

Yandere!Soft!dom!Kazuha x fem!reader. Smut. Use of an aphrodisiac. I made it more of an intentional "accident" since it fits more with the Yandere theme. Kazuha is gonna to sound really obsessive in this. I hope it doesn't freak anyone out😭

a/n: Here is the wind up, and the pitch. I hope you enjoy. You are my first answer to a Yandere character request. I hope I don't disappoint 💜

Truthfully, Kazuha felt like he manipulated you a little, even if you did come willingly when he asked you to join the Crux's crew. He'd been stalking you around Liyue for months. He was pretty sure you knew. With how clueless you seemed to act, it was almost like you were inviting him to act that way.

Most nights before he established a relationship with you, Kazuha would sit high up in the crow's nest and watch you. When he first saw you, there was just something about you that made him feel obsessive. He needed to have you, constantly leaving you flowers, and poetry from a secret admirer.

Kazuha loved pulling you against his chest as often as he could, asking you to repeat yourself when you said he was only one for you.

You'd practically set yourself up for this, wrapping yourself in a neat little bow like a gift for him.

It's not that Kazuha didn't trust what you said. He just wanted to test you, so he could watch you fall apart in front of him. To see what you would look like when you ask him for help, your eyes cloudy with lust.

It's not like you would care if he did this, but you'd left one of your drinks unattended while you discussed navigation with Captain Beidou. He made sure no one noticed him slipping the aphrodisiac into your water.

Now it was time to wait. He grinned at you, waving before he turned to go wait in your cabin. His normally calm and gentle demeanor may have reflected on the outside, but on the inside, he could barely contain his excitement.

Kazuha decided to act clueless and concerned when you finally stumbled into your cabin. This was supposed to look like an accident. He still wanted to play his part accordingly in the beginning. "What's wrong, my love. Are you sick? Come here, you look like you are running a fever."

He'd even scape goat someone on the crew and throw them under the bus instantly if he had to. He just might anyways.

Stumbling a little, you pressed yourself against his chest as much as you could. Did you have any idea how breathtaking you looked, your sense of morality pliable to his will. It was getting hard for him to carry on his charade.

"No.." you slurred, gazing up at him, panting quietly. You sounded as divine as you looked when you spoke next. It made Kazuha shiver with anticipation and lust. Now for the words he'd been waiting to hear. "Order me to sleep with you, Kazuha, please. It's something I want more than anything right now. I feel a little dizzy, I don't know why."

Your response was better than he ever imagined. Yes, perfect. You were so gullible right now. You would never have any idea!

"As you wish, my love," Kazuha replied. There was something dark reflecting in his eyes now. You didn't see it though. Or maybe you did. He didn't care either way. This was his moment, his triumph. He was going to enjoy it to the fullest.

He pointed at your bed. "You know your orders." He couldn't crawl on top of you fast enough. Tearing at your clothes, kissing you deeply as he adjusted you while took your clothes off.

Kazuha couldn't resist ordering you prepare yourself while he took his clothes off. You wanted to be ordered around by him and he wasn't to deny you. Besides, this was an extra gift for himself. He finally got to watch you do this in the same room now.

He licked his lips while he watched you. You were already so wet for him thanks to the aphrodisiac. Your fingers squelched wetly in and out of your cunt as you desperately fingered yourself.

"You are not to look away from me once, do you understand?" He said when he was back on top of you. You blinked slowly, looking dazed while you nodded weakly.

His thumb stroked your cheek. "Good girl. Be nice and loud for me. In fact," he said, thrusting his cock inside of you, making you gasp, your back arching with pleasure. "I'd prefer it if you screamed a little," he added, kissing the tip of your nose.

Every single moan and mewl that poured from your mouth was like honey in his ears. He didn't even want to kiss you much as he fucked you, he couldn't get enough of how you sounded right now.

Kazuha constantly pulled out of you, leaving only the tip inside. He loved how soaked his cock was with your slick. And how swollen your lips looked from his kisses.

"Don't worry, my love. I'll make you cum soon. I always take good care of my precious princess," he murmured, leaning down to allow himself just one gentle kiss.

Every thrust of his cock rubbed slowly against the most sensitive parts of you, stretching your walls apart, making your body feel cooler but hotter at the same time. It blew your mind actually.

You weren't sure how it was even possible. You didn't have time to think much about and you didn't want to. You could feel your orgasm ready to burst like a dam. You clawed at Kazuha's back. "Harder, Kazu, please. I can barely stand it right now." You pleaded.

You always sounded so perfect.

Kazuha gave you what you wanted. He always will. He would never deny you anything. And he was a pro at perfectly controlling your pleasure.

You cummed, screaming his name exactly when he told you to. He took great care to always admire the way his cum stuck sticky to your thighs as he filled you as many times as he wanted. It was going to a long night for you and him.

It was going take several hours for you come down from the aphrodisiac. He should do this more often, really. Kazuha could fuck you as much he wanted for as long as he wanted.

Every single time, you would be so needy and so fucked out when he was finished with you that you would never consider (or care) that he had given you an aphrodisiac.

There too many benefits for him that he couldn't resist doing it again.

[skelliko]

Can you do a Matsuno Chifuyu request with friends to lovers trope of Emma daring the reader to do a run and jump into his arms in front of the boys cause Emma’s sick of their pining?

Chifuyu matsuno |°- friends to lovers - g/n pronouns used

two friends, friends that just so happen to make the other's heart run a hundred beats a minute. friends, that talk about the other to their other friends enough to make a 60/60 marked essay. friends, that secretly make fake scenarios of the other before drifting off to sleep. things that just happen when two people get closer than others. that's normal, right?

"-oh yeah, and chifuyu will be there" Emma mentioned, she and y/n were making their way over to the basketball courts where they would meet with the boys, something about them having a small competition because someone wasn't able to have an agreement. and the two were invited for motivation, to cheer on or something.

just the mention of chifuyu made y/n feel fuzzy, their heart grew warm but at the same time, they felt a type of feeling that can only be explained as 'pining' the feeling of being warmed yet also saddened when realising the true meaning of their feelings. they're in love and is longing for him, but also understand that nothing can be done.

"wait he's gonna be there?" it was more of a repeated statement than a question, of course, chifuyu will be there, y/n just still needs to adjust to her thoughts and feelings. constantly being in denial.

Emma is aware of it all, so aware that it's starting to almost claw at her skin from irritation because all she can hear is y/n yapping about chifuyu and their friendship and how much her guilt and sadness eats them up. don't get Emma wrong though, she listens closely and takes everything into consideration however sometimes it may be a bit too much, it's like listening to a friend talk about their crush for the 20th time of the day but only keeps mentioning the same thing over and over.

though a little plan has settled into Emma's mind as well as a little devious smile. she knows y/n likes Chifuyu as more than a friend but this pining has gone way too far and y/n is in need of a little push otherwise this constant loop will never end. y/n would only be taking 360 turns thinking it would lead to somewhere only to end up in the same position.

Emma and y/n were nearing the basketball courts that's on the side by a park. a few people were around such as those who were walking their dogs or taking their toddlers out to enjoy the sun but it wasn't like anyone would disturb the basketball game that the toman boys were playing.

despite there being others in the court the first person that y/n had her eyes on was chifuyu. his blonde hair slightly rising up and falling as he tried to throw the ball into the net but missed making his face cringe a little at himself, but when he turned around to fit back into the game he couldn't help but notice y/n at the corner of his eye making his full focus to leave for a short moment.

it was as if he was struck with a sword in his chest due to their beauty, despite them being at a fair distance he could still make out their eyes that always makes him feel almost lost. though that trance was rid of after Baji slapped the back of his shoulder to get him back into the game, "they'll be watching, try and pay attention" baji knew what he was setting up in chifuyu's mind, though it couldn't be decided if that caused anxiety or determination knowing that y/n will be watching him.

before going back to the game chifuyu smiled and did a quick wave at both Emma and y/n before having his eyes back to the basketball and who's around.

Emma slightly nudged y/n with her elbow closely, "what if... you randomly hug him?"

"hug who?" -y/n

"I shouldn't need to specify, you know who" looking at y/n with slightly raised eyebrows knowing that the person is obvious enough

"...but we usually hug?? I don't see what the difference would be" not exactly enthused by the whole situation, always thinking about him and their friendly relationship causes some sort of desperate feeling to grow inside of her heart, like it's slowly breaking but at the same time also repairing itself with the good and bad feelings.

though talking about hugging him is causing y/n to feel a little giddy as if they haven't done that in ages. even though they have, probably last week

"no but I mean, unexpectedly... jump into his arms! that sort" Emma however had a wide smile on her face, she wanted nothing more than to see y/n get out of this confusing state and see them both finally make some sort of move.

"what?! I can't do that"

"yes you can! you mentioned you've hugged before, what's the difference?" mocking her previous statement

"no no there is a difference though, what if he doesn't like that and I ruin things?" a slight feeling of panic drove over them, just picturing out the scenario of them running up to him to put their arms under his arms and around him but it only being a one-sided excitement is giving themselves embarrassment. can't help but always think about the worst.

"oh cmon you're being dramatic, Chifuyu is the last person that would brush off a hug- especially from you!"

the boys were running around the court dribbling the ball while y/n and Emma stayed outside of the fenced area. occasionally the two would cheer for the opposite teams though it seems as if Emma's team has a higher advantage all because of draken's height. though Mikey and chifuyu on the other team have the speed making the scoring constantly switching.

(Mikey is ranked first, and Chifuyu ranked third in speed from the official rankings)

Sometimes Peh would yell at someone on his team for not being able to dribble the ball which becomes entertaining for y/n and Emma but not so to the others cause it just ends up being a petty argument, though I guess that'd be expected since he's the reason why the game has started in the first place.

"hey, I dare you to jump into Chifuyu" -Emma

"nu uh doesn't mean I have to" y/n shaking their head trying to protest the idea. it still seems like a bad idea though it doesn't mean that the idea wasn't growing onto her.

"don't nu uh me... I bet you want to~" She got closer to y/n to try and playfully pester them a little in hopes of them giving into the idea, "You'll run up into his arms and he'll be taken off guard a little bit but then swiftly gives in and wraps his strong arms around you-" Emma couldn't continue any more because she started to laugh at her own little sarcastic comment,

"what kind of fanfic did you take that from?" both of them having a small fit of laughter picture Chifuyu and y/n in different scenarios but they all came from cringy fanfics that they had previously read together out of boredom at a sleepover.

though in all honesty that's probably how it would play out... maybe. that dare was still playing over y/n's mind.

"I dare you, no buts or if's, it's final"

"why does it matter so much" y/n pouted a little

"it matters to me because-" *gasp* the final point of the basketball game between the boys were scored and the winning team was Mikey's. also the team that Chifuyu is in.

Emma nudged y/n almost frantically, way too frantically. and the both of them cheered on, even though Emma previously was on Draken's side she should still celebrate her brothers' victory. Even though the game on the outside seemed something minor and fun, for the guys it was competitive.

a minor disagreement between Peh and baji so the others chose to battle it out with a game. though halfway through those who had nothing to do with the disagreement, forgot what everything was about and just played like it was a regular game.

"this is your turn, go hug him" Emma leans to the side of y/n to quietly nag. though at that very moment it seemed as if y/n had their strings pulled because after hearing Emma's voice and making eye contact with Chifuyu, it was almost like a direct calling.

or maybe because on their side Emma gently gave y/n a push in the direction of the open gate of the fenced court, her balance got a little unsteady but after that push, it seemed as if the dare was non-negotiable.

slowly walking up and through the open gate soon enough turned into a little awkward run to then being a full-on run with a smile that just screams 'I don't know what I'm doing but I'll pretend I do' running straight towards Chifuyu. nothing else mattered to y/n at that moment, just him and needing his embrace.

he was casually standing around trying to catch his breath after all the running and jumping with the basketball, his body had grown extremely hot and sweat had built up on his forehead that Chifuyu then wiped off with the back of his arm sliding along to the back of his hand.

despite being on the winning team it hasn't really made him feel some emotion about it other than being glad it's over.

he's never once forgotten that y/n was there, part of the reason why his performance got a little worse than how it was in the beginning because his mind kept going back to her. he was like a little kid again trying to impress his crush from afar but kept failing because of a constant repeat of nervousness.

though without him knowing he never once disappointed her, the only reason why he keeps thinking that was because he's trying so hard to reach them but just doesn't know how to without wussing out.

the brief eye contact that they make always creates some sort of spark in-between them. it starts off as a small sparkler but then into a firework that shoots up but doesn't end up exploding. that's the situation they've always been in, hypothetically.

though this time it's different, it has to be, right? the eye contact broke but it felt different unlike any other time, it can't exactly be explained other than seeing it for yourself,

the other toman boys focusing on their loss/win of the game, while y/n got closer and closer his heartbeat quickened unsure of when they'll stop but upon seeing them not slow down he took his hands out of his pockets out of slight panic and as if preparing for collision,

"wait wai-" he panicked about how close they got to him and how they didn't stop, he didn't expect them to just jump up at him, but he didn't hate it.

y/n had gotten closer and without saying anything they jumped up at him and wrapped their arms over his shoulders and around his neck, he stumbled back a bit due to the sudden weight on him but he didn't think twice about holding them in place so that they won't fall off. one arm under their thighs and the other arm over their waist.

It caused the both of them to get butterflies in their stomach, it also felt like the butterflies were transferring through each other by how close they were pressed against.

chifuyu had a happy but awkward smile on his face, he's happy and excited but was unsure of what to say or do at the moment.

"wu- you alright?" he let out a small laugh too before looking over at y/n's face to see if they were in fact okay

"of course I am, just wanted a hug" they made eye contact and it was as if their shared smile was mouthing the same thoughts. 'I want this to last forever' but neither said anything.

though one thing that hadn't registered fully until this very moment is that everyone is watching, and if they weren't before when they firstly latched on, they certainly are now.

"oh shit, everyone's probably watching" Y/n quickly looked to the side and sure enough people were eyeing the two of them with their whispers and laughter, y/n quickly looked away from the group and showed movement of wanting to get back down to the ground however he didn't allow that.

"it's fineeeee, let them be jealous" he replied in an almost whisper with a small tease and his embrace squeezed a little signing that he didn't want to let go.

y/n's face started to heat up a little at the reply and didn't dare to look back up but instead hid their face by his neck. though that didn't mean that Chifuyu was getting all bold, nu uh, he was getting frantic in his mind thinking if he said the wrong thing.

but after noticing the group walk past and happily cheer him on even though it also kind of seemed like an average teenage boy mocking, it made chifuyu loosen up a little knowing that what's happening currently, is good. he didn't need to be reminded of that though but he just needed the reassurance either way.

"you guys should do that more often, it'd help the pinning" Baji quickly mentioned while walking past, he had a proud, toothy smile knowing exactly what he said to both of them.

y/n looked up a little after hearing those words and caught Baji's eye for a second before he left Chifuyu and them alone in the basketball court.

after the group left a few more seconds and he had finally let her down whilst asking a question,

"what made you do that?"

y/n was unsure of what to respond with, say something like 'i just wanted to' or say 'it was a dare'? which one seems more suitable currently?

"it was, um, a dare"

unaware of what y/n has now caused to spin in chifuyu's mind, saying that seemed to be an okay response, i guess it is the truth. though chifuyu didn't exactly take that lightly, in his mind he now has the thought that he's a side thing that can put targets on him for them or anyone now when it comes to dares, the moment seemed so put together and genuine that thinking about it now is just making his smile to weaken a little.

"oh, a dare" he's trying to keep his tone right but it seemed to go down a little as disappointment, even his eyes were avoiding them.

upon hearing his tone and taking a look at his face, y/n couldn't help but let out a panicked gasp, which definitely got his attention making his eyes fall back onto them. it clicked in that the previous response to his question could have been taken the wrong way, but looking back that probably shouldn't have been a questioned response since saying 'it was a dare' after doing the most butterfly-causing act is never the right response. what was y/n thinking?

"but it's not like I didn't want to though! I guess in a way Emma just suggested it" They quickly spoke up about it and explained a little, after some thought to this, it made his smile turn upwards again.

They both took a seat on the concrete floor with their backs against the fence, the court grew completely empty and the sun was almost setting making the sky to be a mix of yellow, orange and still a bit of blue. the rest of the group either went home or to someplace else.

"hey what did Baji mention before? about the pining" y/n mentioned out of curiosity.

"oh uhhh, that's..." he tried so hard to find any sort of right words to save himself here but he couldn't find any, his mind was so full yet he could hardly think and it almost seemed as if it was actually blank rather than full.

y/n saw chifuyu stumble on his words, avoid eye contact and the way his fingers would curve a little making his nails scratch the concrete floor a little. he was nervous, and yet this made y/n almost giddy because they knew exactly what pining meant, they knew exactly what Baji meant and they took in every expression and movement that Chifuyu made when they hugged.

"what if we went out?" y/n randomly blurted out making chifuyu to turn his head in an instant and make his previous, rushing thoughts silent.

"what do you mean by that?" chifuyu looked at them slightly confused, yet hopeful. going out can mean plenty of different things, but there was only one that stood out the most in his mind.

"like I don't know, just us two but..." they were going to continue on but by this time they were unsure of how to phrase it without maybe saying the wrong thing

"so, a date?" having a hopeful tone and smile, y/n shared the same smile and for a few seconds, silence lingered on by, but it was good silence, the type of silence that happens between two people before laughing or saying something that makes the friendship stronger.

"yeah, a date"

or, instead of making the friendship stronger, they make something new bloom. a relationship.

 ♡----

[dxwnstxr]

Hello! if you still take requests can i repuest Female fyodor,nikolai,dazai and chuuya as your girlfriend fluff and smut hc?

you are free to ignore this:)

Them as your girlfriend

Fandom: bungo stray dogs

Pairing: fem fyodor, dazai, Nikolai, and chuuya x y/n (reader)

Genre: smut and fluff

Warning: pining, making out, fingering, hickies, grinding, oral, face sitting.

A/N: I'll try my best! Some might be shorter than others since I'm not used to doing two genres at once. I might come back and change certain thing later.

Fyodor

Fluff

She would be protective of you more then you could imagine. She wants to always be with you but can't bring herself to say it, which leads her to go and do her own things. She knew you loved hearing her Russia accent so, she would whisper sweet nothings to you to help you sleep or if your just not having a good day.

Even though she was always busy with work, she knew almost everything about you. It made you curious but you didn't look into it. She let you wear her clothes which you gladly appreciated. One thing you loved doing was playing with her hair. She would sit down on the bed and you would play with her dark hair. Either tying half of it up or braiding it. Either way, fyodor loved it.

Smut

She would definitely Dom you. Though there are time where she would let you take the lead, but rarely. Fyodor liked seeing the expressions you made while receiving pleasure. There were time she just wanted to hear you screaming her name, but she knows your delicate and takes her time.

She loves watching you whine. Teasing you by either, edging you, nibbling, or not letting you cum. Her favorite thing to do is touch around your heat, kissing around it. Kissing your thighs. This annoyed you but she didn't care. Right when your in the middle of winning again she'll shove two fingers in and lick your clip, making you moan louder than you thought you could. You would definitely be in for it.

Dazai

Fluff

She would be very clingy. She'll tell you how much she misses you and loves you any time of day. Her favorite thing to do is fall asleep with you in her arms. Whenever you would get cold, she would drape her coat over you, making sure your warm. Thought... when it came to cooking, that was an issue. You were always tired after coming home from work, so dazai didn't want to ask for you to cook. So what she would do is dial kunikida and lie say that your sick. Kunikida would rush over only to see just dazai home. After kunikida scolds her with him throwing a book at her, dazai tell him to cooks your favorite food. And with you being the angel you are how could kunikida let you starve. So kunikida and cook for you and dazai. You were always welcomes home to the sweet smell of food and dazai looking at you lovingly.

Smut

She would make sure you needed help walking tomorrow. With the way she was thrusting her fingers into your cunt made your back arch. She found this humorous. She'd lick your clit then suck on it, looking up to watch your reaction. She move one hand up your chest and pinch your sensitive nipples. Then massaging your breast. Your moans would lead her on. After you came she wouldn't stop. Your hands would fly to her head, trying to stop her but it was no use. She continued her work on your cunt making you feel like you were going insane. Which is exactly what she wanted.

Nikolai

Fluff

She would shower you with as much affection as she could. Sometimes it was too much but you didn't mind. Something that she loved doing was chosing what clothes you should wear. You actually brought up the idea, and she couldn't be more happy. She loved seeing you in the outfits she chose for you.

Smut

Believe it or not she a switch. It all depends on her mood. But most the time she loves watch you grind on her. Seeing you get off makes her feel like she's on a high. She would sit back and make you finger yourself. Nikolai would keep a close eye on your reactions and expressions. You were her little dove after all.

Chuuya

Fluff

She would no doubt make time out of her day to take you out on dates. She'd cook for you, give you gifts, and take care of you. What more could you ask for. She'd would do anything for you. ANYTHING. but of course you would still love her. When she didn't understand certain things you liked, she would go asked one of her coworkers for advice on what it is. When you are having a bad day, chuuya would do anything you ask of her. She just wants you to be happy.

Smut

She would only do things you were up for. If you didn't want to do anything, she wouldn't make you. But when you did, she'd make sure you were in heaven. Chuuya would take it slow, making sure every part of your body felt pleasure. If you wanted her to go faster, she'd make you ask or beg. If you wanted her to do something, she'd first make sure you really wanted her to and two ask properly.

After she got you off she didn't force you to do anything with her. She knew you were tired and worn out. So instead, she just laid with you. Of course, she'd clean you up but afterwords she would get your favorite blanket and pillow, a glass of water, and some food if you wanted it. Chuuya would make sure your comfortable and cozy right before cuddling up next to you and running her fingers thru your hair. But later on, you'd move her around so you were sleep on her chest. Which she found adorable

[tinkerbelle05]

Pavitr x fem reader PRETTY PLEASEE 🥺

Options:

- When your out with him, and alot of men are staring ( Jealous HEADCANONS )

- Angst

- Fluff

- How he is when your sick.

Why did you leave me?

Characters: Pavitr Prabhakar x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst

Summary: After some months of dating Pavitr, he wants to break up with you but he wouldn’t tell you why. (Requested) Thanks for the request darling 💕

Warning: Heartbreak, sad times y’all

Jaanu = Beloved

You noticed something was off about Pavitr. The change was almost overnight. Like one day, he’s his usual cheerful and touchy self and now, he can barely look you in the eye and he can’t even hold your hand. The conversations, if there are any, are short and stifled. It’s like he’s walking on eggshells around you.

It made you feel conflicted. On one hand, you felt jaded, silted, vexed. Like every negative emotion manifested in you whenever he ignored you, whenever the 3 am 5 hour calls turned into 10-20 minutes, whenever he pulled away. It made you want to scream and shake him.

But a part of you was worried for him. Something was off with him but he wouldn’t tell you. He wouldn’t tell anyone. And it’s hurting him.

“Hey Pav,” you greeted him and smiled. It was a free period during school so you were just walking the walls.

He gave you a bright smile, “Hey, how’s your day going?”

You two engaged in casual conversation and for a minute it was like the old days but there was something off about Pavitr. His laughs weren’t the same and not once has he hugged you longer for than 30 seconds. This is the same guy that can’t go without 5 minutes holding your hand or even just idly playing with your fingers

You leaned against a wall and took a breath, “Pav, is there something wrong?”

He stopped mid sentence and looked at you with wide eyes and he froze for a moment. Then his face fell, it crumbled like sand. But for a moment, just a moment. You blinked and his smile was back in its place. But it’s manufactured and fake.

So obviously fake.

You stepped closer to him and held his face softly. You ran your fingers up and down his cheek in a soothing manner and touched your foreheads together. You spoke low and slow so he’s the only one that could hear.

“Pav, you can tell me what’s bothering you. I will not judge you for it, promise.” You told him and meant every word. You desperately hoped he knew you meant every word.

He sighed deep and long, his eyes closed, and all he could mumble were a string of sorrys. Confused by it you held him close and rested his head in the nook between your neck and head.

The next day he broke it off with you.

It was short, he came to your apartment, saying that he wanted to talk. You knew something was off when he didn’t walk right past you to chat with your mom. When he didn’t tickle your little sister. When he didn’t waltz into your room and lounge on your bed like it was his.

It was two words and he left.

“We’re done.” And his back was turned to you as he walked away.

It was simple and cruel. 4 years of laughing, smiling, kissing, hugging. Gone in less than 5 minutes. You didn’t know how to react. To cry, laugh, chase him down to throw something at him.

You wordlessly walked to the roof to your building using the railing from your bedroom window. You ignored the questioning glances of your family.

Leaning against the railing you looked at the city. It’s night time but there’s no difference in the amount of sounds or lights. It wasn’t quiet by any means but it was calming to you. People talking, motorcycles revving up, and taxis honking helped distract you from your breakup.

You still couldn't make sense of it. You knew that things were rough between you two but you thought you got to him yesterday.

He put his head on your shoulder! He was fine with you holding him! So why...why?

Um, hi…” you heard a voice and whooshed. You turned around to see that it was Spiderman. Technically Pavitr as Spiderman. But it was still him. The boy that you loved but broke your heart anyway.

You violently turned back around and yelled at him, “Go away! I don’t want to see you right now.”

You were beyond angry. You were livid, enraged, bitter. You didn’t have the words to describe what you were feeling, what you were thinking. You wanted to scream at him, to ask him why, to cry into his arms.

“Just…just let me explain,” he told you and walked to get closer but you backed away from him.

“You couldn’t have explained it as Pavitr! You had to go and get dressed up in your costume to explain why you broke my heart!” You screamed at him, with every word your voice getting louder and louder.

You both stood inches apart from one another. You could not tell what facial expression he had on, whether he was glaring at you, crying with you, or smirking.

You did not want to believe that Pavitr was enjoying your pain but you clearly didn’t know him as well as you thought you did. The boy you loved wouldn't leave you like that.

You reached to take the mask off of his face. You wanted to see him.

“Why?” Was all you asked of him.

He took the mask from your hands and sighed deeply. “I just wanted to protect you. As Spiderman, I have a lot of enemies. I just wanted to protect you, that’s all.”

You stared at him as he’s telling you this. Both of you had these kinds of concerns when he first told you. What if a villain tracked you down, used you as leverage, etc, etc.

“But we have protocols in place in case something like that happens. Pav, is there something else? Because you've been off all week.”

“No, no nothing else. I just thought that this is for the best. I just want to keep you safe from all of this,” he responded.

“Pav, I know you. I know when you are lying to me. You are lying!” You argued back at him. This was frustrating. This was so frustrating. You knew he was lying about something. You knew it. You know him.

Through your tears, you watched as Pavtir put the mask on. “Jaanu, I'm not lying to you. I love you, I always have and always will. And because I love you, I have to leave.”

“But this is not love, Pavitr! If you love me like you claim you do then, you would tell me what it is. You will not be vague about it and you will not shut me out! You will not break up with someone that you’ve been with for 4 years with no explanation and then just leave them at their doorstep. You will not!” You snapped at him.

The tears were running, staining your attempt at eyeliner, and your voice was strained from the constant yelling. And now you're just tired. This was getting nowhere.

You turn to the exit, “Okay, Pavitr. If you want to lie to my face then fine. Goodbye.”

But before you could leave, you sensed him still. Waiting. For what? You didn't know. A part of you hoped that this is where he’ll finally tell you. He’ll tell you everything. But the longer you stood there waiting, the more you realized that this was truly happening.

You marched up to him and slapped him. It was loud but not painful because as much as you hated him, you couldn't truly hurt him. But you wanted him to feel a fraction of what he put you through.

Tags: @pavitrgf, @ellatienesuscosas, @justbeethings, @jam-skullz, @hoeboat101, @butterfi, @dreamxcollide, @sleepdeprivationis4coolkids, @maypersonne, @somber-starz, @hoeboat101, @rosebunny, @midnight-the-shadow-wolf, @mur-docs, @shibble, @eight-cats-in-a-box, @emgavi, @sawi-06, @707xn, @niktwazny303, @nagi3seastorm, @ghostsimp000, @cloudstrifefantatic, @vixqn, @yourtsahik, @angelzira, @im-jisoo-im-okay, @andhdi68a, @itstooearly-its3am, @universallypeanutpizzapersona, @avatarl0v3r, @randomhoex, @nerdyparker616, @1uvvmi, @centipider, @keawio, @ellatienesuscosas, @skullux, @luci1fer, @minimari415, @m4rihrts, @baddiebehaviourxx, @jell0buss-37, @laylasbunbunny

Taglist & Masterlist & Reqs Info

Reqs are open!!

[sanest-bsd-delegate]

Hi! I just saw your recent dazai x reader post and saw that the request is open soooo I want to request something.

Uhh if by any chance you know Tokyo revengers could you do Reader as Emma Sano? Dazai as Draken and Ranpo as Mikey like the scenario takes place during the prison arc and the vampire thingy and during that time Reader died the same way Emma Sano died and she was killed by Fukuchi in order to weaken the ADA and Dazai was informed by Ango about her death , you know just some good ol angst ehehehehe. I hope this request somehow makes sense and Thank you in advance! 🥰(⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♡

Last Soul

Summary: They swear as they see, she will be the last soul they will sacrifice for the battle. Dazai x Fem!Reader ft Ranpo's SisterMasterlist Tysm for the request! I have watched tr a little and I mainly surfed the web, Hope this doesn't disappoint you, I tried to co-relate both the scenarios as close as possible! Hope this fulfill your request

Atsushi and Y/N were on the way escaping Fukuchi, Akutagawa helped them escape, but on a cost of what? His life.

Everything was spinning and going to fast. They merely escaped the attacks by Fukuchi. Y/N couldn't help out much except for the fact she didn't contribute much of defense and combat skills.

She was didn't own any ability, just like her brother Ranpo, who was too denial to say he didn't own one too.

They were running through the forest with Poe's book in hand which had her brother trapped.

This was going to much for her, she wanted to live normally for god sake.

It happened so fast.

One moment she was beside Atsushi running away, and the next moment her body lied on the ground beside where Atsushi stood.

She was injured by Fukuchi's sword.

It came ripping through the thin air, and before either of those two could react, the sword pierced through her body and Y/N could react nothing but cough blood as she fell down in the pool of blood that was hers.

Ranpo didn't know what to say

He came out of the book solving the mystery to see his sister, lying on the ground as Atsushi stood still. He caught the light of the sword that reflected in his eyes, knowing damn well what had happened. He dropped on his knees as his body weakened to see his sister's body on the ground.

"Atsushi What happened...?"

"I AM SORRY RANPO-SAN THE SWORD JUS-JUST CAME THROUG-GH AND-D"

"ATSUSHI PICK HER UP WE NEED TO REACH YOSANO......DONT WORRY Y/N"

Ranpo was beyond angry.

Y/N seemed to gain conciseness when they reached near the base, and Ranpo was relieved a little, but his happiness didn't seemed to last long as she took her last breathe almost saying 'take care' right at the entrance, smiling.

Silence.

That was what could they all hear. Eyes diluting, tears streaming down as a silence scream escaped Ranpo, as he stared at his sister, who's soul completely slipped her body, which now was dropped on the ground, where Atsushi regained his human form.

" Tell me this a sick joke you pull Y/N, You know Dazai Loves you back right? Y/N-" Ranpo said, his voice cracking as he spoke.

"Y/N please, wake up you wanted to start a family right? With Dazai, and you even thought so far on picking the colours of the walls for your kid, Please Y/N, you cant throw away all of this you cant-" Ranpo's voice cracked, as he held his sister's body in denial.

Atsushi could only place a hand on ranpo's shoulder as a sign of comfort, unsure of the next motive of either parties.

Ango, Who watched the scene unfold, didn't say much but still shed a tear, knowing well he had to be professional in the battlefield.

Now the problem for Ango was, to convey this message to Dazai.

As the usual time passed, Ango sat once again to decode and code the messages between him and Dazai

Sending the coded Message to Dazai, Ango could only hope that this doesn't change the direction of the war.

Dazai didn't know how to react.

Y/N L/N was dead. The Y/N who he spent time with, who actually cared for him other than his late friend Odasaku , and The Y/N who he never confessed his love to.

"Say Dazai, didn't you hear it yet?" Fyodor smiled, who sat across him in another cube smiling wickedly seeing his enemy in denial.

"If this didn't exist, I would have made sure you didn't see another day" Dazai announced as his head slowly raised up and you could see the maniac beast he held close rise up, little by little just like it had when he made his first kill.

"I will make sure you pay the prize of this act Fyodor Dostoevsky, she will be the last soul sacrificed for this battle."

Help i went through my notes the other day for this request and

Welcome Dazai Sazai

[undertakerslxt]

Can I request undertaker x female reaper reader where, even though nobody thinks it's possible for reapers to get pregnant, reader starts having morning sickness, but her and undertaker just think she's sick and find out she's pregnant?

What would doting husband undertaker be like? What would he do the first time he feels the baby kick?

I like to think that this would only happen if two reapers have a love that is beyond the rules of the universe.

AND AUNTIE GRELL WOULD BE A THING!!!

YESSS!! omg i absolutely love this.

title; family

warnings; pregnancy, overload of cuteness and adrian being the happiest father-to-be alive (or unalive, technically).

It started out small, the signs. You would start feeling nauseous, especially in the mornings. At first, it was only the feeling, but then it would turn into you bent over the toilet, throwing up. Your husband was worried the first time it happened, because reapers couldn't get sick. Or, they weren't supposed to, anyway. For one to be throwing up was a bad sign. (And he couldn't help but immediately think Thorns, even if that wasn't a typical Thorns symptom.)

But then it continued. For days. Some days, you would just curl up under the blanket and not want to be disturbed. Other days, you spent a good portion of your morning in the bathroom. On week two of this, your husband was starting to suspect you weren't actually sick at all.

But how could his suspicion be right? Reapers were dead humans, without the ability to conceive or create life.

Yet that pregnancy test on the bathroom sink said otherwise.

His wide eyes stared right back at you, then slowly drifted down to your stomach. Of course, he wouldn't see any bump yet, but there was new life in your womb. Life both of you had created.

And impossibly, his dream of being a father had come true.

You both weren't with Dispatch anymore, but you were still friends with Grelle. She had been your best friend before you left, so how could you not share this news? You also wanted answers, though. How were you pregnant?

"From all I know, it has something to do with the pureness of a reaper's love," she explained one day, sitting both of you down. "Apparently, if your love is true and pure, despite all this being a punishment, you can be rewarded with a child. Nothing is more pure than a child, so it's supposed to be a representation of your own connection. A symbol, if you will, of how strong your love is that you can overcome a fundamental reaper law and conceive."

You blinked. "So... Adrian and I's love is so strong we were able to conceive?"

"Pretty much." Her eyes lit up. "I will be the best aunt your child will ever have! I'll bring them lots of presents and show them the best ways to reap and-"

"Okay, slow down," you laughed. "One thing at a time, Grelle. First, Adrian and I need to process this."

"Well, alright, but once you're done processing, let me know. We're going to get you maternity clothes!"

Adrian was the absolute picture of a doting husband the second he had the confirmation. Not that he wasn't before, but now he was practically by your side every second. You were feeling a little suffocated, yes, but to be honest, his excitement was adorable. He had come home one day loaded with books. Not the ones of the medical variety, though. Baby names. All kinds of baby names.

You laughed as he set all of them down, spread out on the couch in your living room. You wore a silk robe, one he had gotten for you after you complained your other robe felt too itchy on your skin. Nothing but the best for the mother of my child, he'd insisted.

"Did you just go out and get all of those?" You teased, one hand resting on your swollen belly. You were five and a half months along by now, and you were getting to the point where Adrian had to do much of the work around the house by himself. "Oh my god, Adrian, how many books did you buy?"

"A book merchant owed me favors," he shrugged, a silly grin on his face. "I was quite convincing when I suggested he give all these to me."

Threatened, more like. You just smiled and shook your head, watching as Adrian sat down beside you. "I thought we wanted to wait on names until closer to my due date."

"Well, why not now? We can make a list and see what feels right then!" He leaned over to kiss you sweetly, one hand rubbing your bump. "I want to be completely prepared for our child, luv."

"In that case, I cannot argue." You sighed contentedly as you laid back down. "Damnit. I forgot my water again."

"I'll get it." He was immediately up to go get it. You heard him shuffling in the kitchen for a moment, before he went quiet. Then... "Luv, no offense, but perhaps I should take care of doing the dishes from now on."

With a frown, you struggled up and walked over to the kitchen. "What? Why?"

He chuckled as he glanced towards the sink, where... Oh. You had been making a snack earlier, and put the dirty plate in the sink and the celery in the fridge. But apparently, pregnancy brain had kicked in again, because the celery was in the dirty dish pile. You didn't need to look to know the dish was probably in the fridge. "Ah... Perhaps you might be right. In my defense, I got hungry!" You whined playfully. "You can't hold this against me."

"I will certainly tease you about it," he laughed, wrapping an arm around your waist. "Nonstop."

"Hey! I am carrying your child, so I'm sorry if I got things mixed up." You pouted, making him kiss your cheek.

"And you look absolutely beautiful while doing both," he reassured you. You couldn't stay mad while he was being all doting, so you sighed and gave in.

"You'd better think so." You poked his nose playfully before waddling back to your place on the couch. You winced, suddenly. "Adrian!"

He practically came running, worried something had happened by the tone of your voice. "What?!" You just grabbed his hand and placed it on your belly, shushing him. A moment passed, then... The baby kicked again, and his eyes widened.

"Was that...?"

"That was our baby, my love. They kicked!"

He knelt in front of you, keeping his hand there. "Hi, baby," he whispered, kissing your belly. "Can you hear me? It's your father."

"I don't know if they can hear you," you teased.

"If you can, I want you to know I love you so much already. Your mother and I cannot wait to meet you," he continued, smiling up at you. Nothing came again, and you saw how he looked quite disappointed, but you reassured him there would be more kicks.

Three and a half months passed by rather quickly, leading to the birth of your very healthy baby girl.

She was the most precious thing in the universe. You stared at your daughter in awe as she slept in your arms, face scrunched up. Adrian was right beside you, sniffling quietly. Your husband rarely ever cried, but you would be upset if the birth of his own daughter wasn't one of the times he did. "She's beautiful," you whispered.

"Absolutely perfect," he agreed softly. "Both of my girls are. I... I can't thank you enough for giving me a family, my love. I never thought..." His voice broke. "I'm a father. I'm really a father now..."

"And I know you'll be the best one ever."

You went to say more, but you were interrupted by Grelle coming into the room in a flurry of excitement. "Is that her?!" She gasped excitedly, leaning over you. "She's beautiful, darling! Lots of hair for a newborn!"

You rolled your eyes in amusement, but you were happy your daughter would have an aunt. And one sure to be as crazy and wonderful as Grelle.

You loved your family.

[squoxle]

૮꒰ ྀི◜๑◝ ꒱ა 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 ~ 𝐍𝐢𝐤𝐢 𝐟𝐟 ♡ 18+

*𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒 𝕤𝕚𝕕𝕖 𝕙𝕦𝕤𝕥𝕝𝕖 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕓𝕠𝕪 𝕓𝕖𝕤𝕥 𝕗𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕟𝕕.*

✩✩𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈: <<𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐞𝐜𝐡, 𝐯𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩

✩𝑃𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔：Niki!bff x Reader (female)

☆𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒： Romance / Adventure / Fluff

☆𝑊𝑜𝑟𝑑𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡：2,849 ~ part 2

☆𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦：𝐈𝐧 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐡, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐧, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐢𝐤𝐢 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐮𝐩 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐢𝐠.

🎀 (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝•༝•⸝⸝ᐢ꒱⸒⸒ ~🍦 🍧 🍨 ~ ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝•༝•⸝⸝ᐢ꒱⸒⸒ ✧ (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) 🎀

It was a hot summer day, the only thing that kept you from melting was the shade provided by the gigantic oak trees accompanied by the occasional cool breeze. You and Niki decided to spend the day relaxing in city park.

In an attempt to prepare for the day in the heat you stopped at an ice cream stand to buy character themed popsicles.

"How're y'all lovebirds doin' today?" the friendly elderly man running the stand asked upon seeing the two of you. He a wore blue and white pin-striped shirt with a gold name tag reading "Andy." You couldn't help but to chuckle a bit at his remark before voicing your request.

"I'll have one of the Bratz character popsicles." "Okey dokey. And what'll it be for you young man?" "I'd like a SpongeBob one." Niki replied as he reached into his pocket. "Alrighty. That'll be $5."

Niki pulled out a $5 bill from his wallet and handed it to the man through the window. Andy, the old man in carge of the stand, handed the two of you your sweet frozen treats before flashing a warm smile. "Thanks for stopping by. Enjoy y'alls treats," he waved. You both bowed and headed over to a clearing in the park.

"Thanks for paying." you said as you plopped down on the ground. "Well you paid for the snacks last time so it's only fair," he said tearing open the packaging. "Hey, look! It's your twin," you laughed as Niki pulled out a cross-eyed SpongeBob.

"Haha. Very funny," Niki's tone was drenched in sarcasm as he rolled his eyes. "But I'd rather look like a cross-eyed block of cheese than a blonde blow-up doll."

"Oh my god, whatever," you scoffed before throwing up your middle finger as you continued to enjoy your popsicle. Niki burst out into laughter as he successfully annoyed the hell out of you.

"Have you thought of what we should do yet?" Niki asked after the two of you finished your snack. "What we should do about what?" "Don't you remember how we talked about making a little extra money." “Oh, right.” “Soooo?” “Soooo what? I’m not the only one responsible for thinking y’know.” “Well i sure as hell got nothing.” Niki said before laying on the cool grass.

“You could always start up an OnlyFans or stream on discord or whatever. I’ll play for you since you honestly can’t game for shit. All you have to do is look pretty and pretend. I’ll do all the leg work,” he continued. “Are you fucking kidding me?! I am NOT degrading myself for money. How about you do it.” “I would if I were a girl. Guys are so desperate. That’s easy money.” “What the hell? You’re still a minor.” “Only until December 9th, after that, it’s payday. And if I started a fan base now they’d be so fucking eager for my 18th birthday I’d probably get a cash advance.” “You’re sick,” you said shaking your head. “No. I’m just trying to make money.” “Well we’re not doing that.” “Hmm…fine. At least I had an idea.”

“Wait! I got it!” “Got what?” “I know what we could do to earn extra money,” you beamed. “Okay, soooo…” “We should start a babysitting business.” “Oh hell no! I am NOT degrading myself to be a butt-wiping, story-reading, preschool pimp!”

*Ring, Ring*

About a week after that day in the park, you and Niki created your rookie-business. You had a friend working on a website, but for now you ran it through Instagram. With your experiences caring for your cousins, this was gonna be a piece of cake.

*Ring, Ring*

“Hello. Thank you for calling The Drop Stop. How may we be of service to you today,” you answered the phone smiling as Niki rolled his eyes.

"Hello. Sorry for calling at the last minute, but is it possible for you to watch my kid on Friday?" "No problem, ma'am. I just need your child's name and age along with a picture of the child. And I'll need the same information from you as well as a picture of your drivers license." "Okay, you can call me Valerie. And should I send the rest of my information through a text or an email?" "You can send it either way you like. After that you can send me the drop-off and pick-up times for the day." "How much do you charge by the hour?" "For toddlers 4 and under, $14 per hour. For children 5 to 10, it'll be $13 per hour. And for 11 to 16, it'll be $12 per hour." "Okay, perfect. James, my little angel, is 5 years old. I'll be at the Galleria for a meeting with my job and I'll just need you to keep an eye on him for a few hours." "Okay, don’t forget to text us when we should be there. We’ll also need to see your ID again when we get there. Security purposes.” “I understand. And how should I pay you?” “Preferably cash, but we’ll take an electronic payment as well.” “I’ll have the cash for you. Oh, and my husband may come to pick him up if my meeting is running longer than I planned.” “Okay, well you’ll need to provide his information as well.” “Alright. No problem.” “Is that all?” “Yes, thank you.” “You’re welcome. Bye.” “Bye, and thank you again.”

“Omg! That was our first customer! Niki! This is insane!” “Okay, okay, I get it. Now can you stop yelling?” “Oh, sorry. I’m just really excited.” “Yea this’ll be pretty good depending on how much we get paid.” “Well she said a few hours and based on the rate we charge it should be at least $40 each.” “40 dollars?!” “This is just the beginning. It’s $40 right now, but it’ll eventually be more than that.” “Hmm, I guess.”

The job sounded fairly simple. Keep Valerie’s kid entertained for a few hours at the mall while you wait for her meeting to end. You didn’t have to worry about bedtime stories or getting lost looking for something in an unfamiliar environment. You and Niki come here every week, sometimes more than once. So, you knew the Galleria like the back of your hand.

The next day, Valerie sent you the address and time stamps for babysitting James. “4 hours!! What the hell kind of business meeting is 4 fucking hours long?!” “Relax, Niki. Everything’s gonna be fine,” you said as you gathered together a few items you might need in case of an emergency.

“Easy for you to say, I’ve never worked with kids a day in my life.” “Look, do you wanna get paid or not? Because if not, I can take all the money for myself.” “Whatever. I’ll just throw him in a ball pit anyway. That’s easy money. At that point, he’s watching himself and we’re just waiting for a check,” Niki said flicking his hair out of his eyes.

After what felt like an hour, you and Niki drove to the Galleria to meet Valerie and James.

“Hello. This is my sweet James. Say hi Jay Jay,” instead of speaking, James dug the tip of his light-up Velcro shoes in to the shiny tile floors. “He’s a little shy that’s all.” Valerie proceeded to explain to James something that he most likely already knew, ‘Mommy’s gonna go bye bye and these two strangers are gonna watch you till she’s done.’

After exchanging some information, Valerie went off to attend her business meeting.

“So…uhh…what do you like James?” “Humph,” he puffed stamping his foot. “What the hell is his problem?” Niki said flashing you a confused look. “I don’t like you,” James said, looking Niki directly in the eye.

“Me?! What’d I do? See, I knew this was a bad idea. Let’s just go bring him back to his mom and we’ll find another way to make money.”

“Niki! You have to give him a chance. Remember that his mom said he’s shy.”

“I HATE YOU!!” James shouted, before kicking Niki in the shin and pushing his legs.

“OUCH!! Shy my ass. He’s just a whiny little brat. Why else do you think his mom wanted to throw him on us?”

“Because she has a business meeting…”

“You really believe that? Do you realize how much bigger I am than you?" Niki said turning his direction to James. "I could crush every bone in your body...by accident. You're literally underdeveloped in every way. You see all those teeth in your mouth? Yea, they're all gonna fall out one day and then you'll be looking like a wrinkled turtle that sucks on lemons all day until they grow back."

“Shut up, dumbass…” James pouted.

"Niki, you can't talk to him like that," you said turning to face James. “Hey. You can’t say bad words, it’s not nice.” You said before lifting James onto your hip. “How about we go get some ice cream? Do you want that?”

“Yes! Yes! Ice creammmmm!” James shouted excitedly, throwing his hands in the air.

Niki rolled his eyes before walking with you to the ice cream shop in the mall.

You and James took a seat at the round table in the food court while Niki ordered the ice cream.

“Since we’re gonna be spending the day together, how about you tell me some things about yourself.”

“Like what?”

“Just copy me, okay,” you smiled.

“Oookay~”

“I’m, Y/N.”

“I-I’m…James.”

“See that wasn’t so bad. So James, what’s your favorite show?”

“Umm…I like Thomas.”

“Wow! Guess what?”

“What?”

“I like Thomas too.”

“Really!!” James’s eyes widened in surprise as he jumped in his seat.

“Yes, and Percy is my favorite engine.”

You didn’t really know much about this show, but you wanted to make him feel comfortable, so you played along. Thankfully, he liked a show you were at least somewhat familiar with.

“Oh yeah, he’s Thomas’s best friend!” He giggled.

“What’s so funny?”

“There was this video *giggle* with Thomas *giggle* and he kept saying charm *giggle* but then the guy got mad *giggle* and blasted him with lightning.” James struggled to say before exploding with laughter.

“Shh shh,” you chuckled causing James to immediately cover his mouth, muffling his little giggles.

“Hey, kid. I got your ice cream.” Niki smirked, gliding the bowl of ice cream across the table. “Yay! Ice cream! Yummy!” James excitedly shouting before digging in to his sundae.

“Two scoops of chocolate brownie ice cream with Oreo bits, chocolate chips, gummy bears, sprinkles, and whipped cream. Oh, and chocolate syrup.” “Yay! Thank you!” “You’re welcome,” Niki smiled.

“Was that a smile?” You teased. “Nah, I was just stretching my jaw,” Niki said as he began to make strange expressions in which James saw and started to laugh. “Do that again,” he laughed with his mouth covered in chocolate. Niki smiled at his request and made one last face before laughing himself.

“Aww has Niki made a little friend?” You teased again. “I—“ “Niki? That’s your name?” James said cutting him off. “Uhh, yeah…” “I like you Niki, your funny,” James giggled as he picked up one of the gummy bears. “Here. You can have this one,” James said, handing Niki the cherry flavored gummy bear. “Umm, thanks,” Niki said before eating the candy.

“This is too cute.” “Yea, whatever,” Niki shrugged.

“Hey, James. Do you wanna go to the ball pit after this?” “Yea!” James smiled. “Okay. Well hurry up so we can play before you have to go.” “Hmm…okay.” James's once chipper composure faded to a seemily dispondednt one.

Just as Niki said earlier, after James finished his ice cream they headed to the mall's giant ball pit.

As you were walking, a song started to play causing James to dance.

"Oh, you like to dance too huh?" "Yea. I'm the best dancer in my classroom," James said as he continued to bounce around. "Well maybe next time we can go dancing." "Really!" James stopped dancing to look at Niki. "That would be so fun!" he jumped before grabbing Niki's hand.

The two of them continued walking until they reached the ball pit.

"Niki! Niki! Are you gonna come play with me?" Niki gave an unsure look before being persuaded by James's puppy eyes. "Argh. Okay, sure. Let's go, but only for a little while." "Hehe. OKAY!!!!" James giggled before grabbing Niki's hand and running into the ball pit.

The two of them played around laughing and throwing multicolored balls through the air. About 15 minutes in, James ran off to play with another little kid around his age.

"Looks like you're having fun now huh?" "Yea, he's not too bad I guess," he shrugged.

You and Niki sat on a bench near the ball pit while you waited for James to finish playing around.

"Wheeee!" a random kid came over by you and Niki and started to spin around in a circle before plopping down to the ground, and he continued to do this a few more times before *BLECH* the kid threw up all over you and niki. "What. The. Fuck." Niki said almost in disbelief.

A woman who you assumed was the child's mother rushed over to the two of you.

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO MY BABY??!! YOU DAMN HOOLIGANS!!" "What did we do? We didn't do shit, bitch. Next time keep a closer on your nasty ass little twerp," Niki spat before grabbing your hand and walking off.

"WHERE DO YOU THINK YOUR GOING? YOU'RE NOT GETTING AWAY WITH THIS!" the psychotic woman shouted before launching he shoe at Niki's head.

"HA! You missed me you cross-eyed hoe!"

"Niki! You're just gonna piss her off more."

"I don't fucking care. She brought her dumbass over there screaming at m--" the woman had launched her other shoe at Niki, hitting him directly in the back of the head this time.

"KEEP WALKING BASTARD!" she screamed.

Niki grabbed the shoe off the ground and launched it in her direction.

"NIKI!!" you shouted at him.

The shoe landed directly beside the woman.

"NOW LOOK WHO'S CROSS EYED YA LITTLE PUNK!"

Niki picked up the other shoe and threw it, this time he hit her between he eyes. "It's still you bitch!" Niki laughed before running behind a corner with you.

"AAAARRRRRGGHGHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!" the woman screamed before running after the two of you.

Niki, still holding onto your hand tightly, ran around the mall before losing her in the large crowd.

"SHIT!!!" Niki spat. "What?" "James. We forgot about James." "Oh my god!" the two of you ran back to the ball pit, hoping to God that James was still in the ball pit playing around.

"James?" you called, looking around to see if you could spot him anywhere. "JAMES!!" Niki shouted at the top of his lungs before crawling into the massive sea of plastic orbs. "JAMES!!" he yelled again.

You had never seen Niki panic before...ever.

"Do you think he left and tried looking for us?" you asked.

"If it weren't for that stupid fucking woman and her bullshit we wouldn't even be in this situation right now." "I know, but talking about it isn't gonna help. We have to find him."

You and Niki walked around the play area calling out James's name, desperatly hoping that you'd see him laughing and playing with another kid. It was of no use. You couldn't find him anywhere.

The two of you walked back to the food court and spotted a familiar face.

"James!!" Niki shouted in excitement. "Why did you leave the ball pit? Do you know how worried I was? Please don't ever do that again," Niki said pulling James into his chest.

"I'm sorry, Niki. I just didn't want to leave you," James said with teary eyes. *sniff, sniff* Still wrapped in Niki's embrace, James started to cry.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm not mad at you. I was just scared something bad happened to you. And don't worry, I'm not going anywhere," Niki said as he gently patted James's head. "Do you wanna go hang out together while we finish waiting for your mom?" "Yea!" he smiled before Niki lifted him onto his back.

The two of them danced around until James finally fell asleep in Niki's arms.

"Sorry, I was running late with my meeting. I hope everything went well for-- Oh." Valerie paused seeing James cradled in Niki's lap. "No worries, ma'am," Niki smiled. "Here you go," Valerie said handing each of you an envelope. "Its $130. I hope I can get you two to help me out again sometime." "We'd love to hang out with James again," you said, smiling at Niki. "Wouldn't we?" "Yea, we definitely would," Niki smiled.

"We make a pretty good team don't we," you nudged Niki as the two of you walked to his car. "Yea, we do," Niki said before interlacing his fingers with yours and kissing your cheek.

"Ah..." "What? Too fast?" "No. I-I uhh" "You're so cute," Niki laughed. "Now get in the car, punk," he continued.

🧃.🌱.🍭.🎀.🪁.🧩.🎨.🥰.🖍️.🥁.🧸.👑.🩹.🖇️.🔆

I know these pics don't really relate to the story, but the way he's cuddling this kitty ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ I CANT!!!

❀𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝:

@chlorinecake @sussyjake @hoyeonheeseung @furious-eagle @cherrriesss @abbyizzy @weyukinluv @addictedtohobi @thatonenoona @wavykook @givemeyourtmihyun @jaeljn @hoonmywk @valennshit @19-yunalyn @hoonbby @frostedblankets @hoonsyo @no-mannerism @perfectxserendipity @chubbibish @ihrtlix @bunniesforsoobin @thereadersparadise @thatbooknerdfr @aiden2001 @belongstoheeseung @jakeybabe @donut-crazs @rizzhee @nikimeows @woonieees @uarmyxtae @rebecca-johnson-28 @they2luv1naia @isa-2007 @silcry @riverscafe @pearlwhitesoul @yohanabanana @heecries @rizzhee @heeseungsrealwife @nikittie @rickysblkgf