#I like the vibe - that's good enough for me :)

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 24: The Last First Time

Summary: You and Simon both get what you want.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 15,019 words

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, unprotected sex, p in v sex, rough sex (it's like straight animalistic y'all), grinding, mutual masturbation, fingering, slightly violent imagery, scratching, biting, hair pulling, dry humping, blood (only a little), slight BDSM vibes, licking, squirting, praise, fluids (so many fluids), choking (only for a second), Simon's oral fixation, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, slight fluff, language, Simon being Simon, excessive use of the word "fuck", it's basically porn with very little plot.

A/N: This...this thing is a beast. It beat me up and stole my lunch money. I may have been a bit ambitious with it, but I've denied the Ghosties long enough and so I'm making up for that. Anyway...this might be one of the most depraved things I've ever written (not really, but you get the point). He'd the warnings, and I don't recommend reading this in public. Or standing. Or in underwear you care about. It's a good thing today is Sunday because y'all are gonna need Jesus after this.

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*This is the gif*

Your teeth sink into your lip as you slowly draw your gaze back to his face. He’s still looking at the bear, and once again, you wish you could see his face so you could guess what was going through his head. 

“I missed you.” You say quickly, ready to explain away the shirt and why you put it on that bear specifically. “A lot.” 

His eyes turn back to you, the intensity in them almost forcing you to take a step back. Any words trying to explain your actions die on your tongue as you hold his dark gaze, your heart thumping in your chest so loud you’re surprised he can’t hear it. A quiet sound rumbles in his chest as he looks at you, his eyes darkening just slightly. He takes a step closer, your head tilting up so you can hold his gaze. 

“Then I best make up for it.” He says, his hand moving to your side. His fingers bunch the fabric of the dress at your hip, lifting the hem a couple of inches. “Yellow sundress?” He asks. 

“Johnny bought it for me.” You say, your voice wavering from the anticipation of his touch. “I-It was nice out today, so I wanted to wear it.” 

“Fucking hell.” He breathes, releasing the fabric to drag his hand up your side, stopping just under your breast. 

You want him to continue, to push his hand higher, to finally touch you. You feel electric, every nerve fiber in your body alive as you stare up at him. Yet, you can see the hesitation, the conflict in his eyes. 

“We don’t have to.” You say, leaving that option open for him. Sure, it might be a little difficult after being so worked up, but the last thing you want is to push him too far. You can always get one of the other members of your pack to help ease that ache. “You just got back. There’s...there’s no need to rush it.” 

His fingers tighten around your side for a moment before he releases you, turning his back to you. You begin to panic, wondering if you pushed too far, made too many assumptions, made him too uncomfortable as he walks to the door. You’ve done it, you’ve messed things up and now it’s all crumbling down around you. 

His hand wraps around the knob, slowly pushing the door closed until it clicks. He stands there with his back to you for a moment before he turns back around. You let out the breath you had been holding, trying to calm the panic. Of course he’d want the door closed. This is just between you and him right now. 

You hold a hand out to him, trying to fight the tremble of your fingers. Your emotions are swirling and you need his reassurance. You need his grounding presence. 

He approaches you again, each step slow and calculated as he reaches out, his fingers brushing your palm before he wraps them around your hand. You close your hand around his as best you can with how big it is. You lift your gaze to his, the temptation to fold under the intensity strong, but you refuse. You need to be strong for him, for both of you. Your gaze doesn’t leave his as you slowly turn, walking backwards towards your bed, leading him by the hand with you. 

Your gaze finally leaves his as you turn to face your bed, stopping dead in your tracks. Simon’s chest brushes your back, obviously not expecting you to stop so suddenly. Something tickles in the back of your mind as you stare at the mess that’s become of your bed. The blankets and pillows are still a bit rumpled and misplaced from your lounging earlier, but something’s wrong. Something’s off, something’s not right. 

“Wait.” You say, dropping Simon’s hand before taking the two steps to the edge of your mattress. 

You move the giant bear to the floor next to the bed before you fix the blankets, smoothing them out and making sure they’re just right. You rearrange your stuffed animals and pillows, the need for them to be perfect taking over your mind. You can’t control it, can’t stop it until everything is perfect. 

You take a step back, staring at the nest you’ve made. 

Nest. 

You’re nesting again. 

You turn to face Simon, blinking up at him as the haze clears. He’s staring at you intensely, hands curled into fists at his side. “Sorry.” You murmur, hands closing around the fabric of your dress nervously. “I-I don’t know what-” 

“Don’t.” He says, the word sharp and biting. “Stop apologizing for your instincts.” 

“Sorry.” You say again, wincing at the instinct to immediately apologize. 

He rolls his eyes, closing the distance between you. You take half a step back, your legs hitting the mattress and you’re ready to sit on it when he grabs your hand, flipping your positions so fast it nearly makes you dizzy. He seats himself on the mattress instead, staring up at you. The look in his eyes takes your breath away as he tugs you to stand between his parted thighs. 

He tugs the bottom of his mask up and you don’t even have to be told, your head immediately lowering to kiss him. You rest your hands on his broad shoulders, feeling the muscle beneath them. His hands close around the back of your thighs, calloused skin biting at the softness of your own. Goosebumps rise on your skin, covering your body from the sensation. It’s nothing new to you, but he’s new to you. You’ve never been in this position before with him, never under these circumstances. 

His kiss is searing, just as the first one had been. He kisses you like a man starved, like he wants to devour you. It’s sloppy and wet, his hands squeezing around your thighs until your lips part in a gasp, and he takes advantage of it, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You press closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands begin to crawl up the backs of your thighs, warmth blossoming in your stomach again as they slip under the hem of your dress, continuing higher and higher. 

His fingers brush the skin where your thighs and ass meet, before continuing upwards until they brush the fabric underneath your dress. He groans into your mouth, pulling away from your lips. “Turn around and show me.”  

You shiver at the growl in his voice, turning slowly between his knees until your back is to him. You slowly lift the hem of your dress until it’s bunched around your waist, the cool air in the room brushing your exposed skin. You hear the sharp inhale as he stares at you, his fingers twitching against the sides of your thighs. 

“Fucking hell.” He breathes, his hands gripping the sides of your thighs as you bend over just slightly, causing the fabric to ride up slightly higher. 

You sink your teeth into your lip as you stand there under his critical gaze. You had planned this after Johnny’s hint that you should wear the dress since the weather was going to be nice. You knew there was more to it than that, the subtle hint that Simon would enjoy seeing you in it. The panties had been a deliberate choice just on the off chance that something like this would happen. You’re glad you made that decision now, half bent over with your ass in Simon’s face, showing off the black, skull print fabric adorning your skin. 

Simon curses again, his hands gripping your waist to tug you back into his lap. Your back collides with his chest, but he offers no complaint as he wraps his arms tightly around your middle. You can feel him, the bulge in his pants as you press back against him, the knowledge that he’s turned on by just the sight of your ass in skull print panties sending heat rushing between your own thighs. 

You tilt your head to the side, meeting his lips as you press back against him, his hands hot against your stomach. You need him to lower his hand, press it between your thighs, relieve some of the ache. 

His arms release around you and you turn in his lap, straddling his thick thighs. His hands settle on your own thighs, rocking your body against the prominent bulge in his pants. You continue to kiss him, gasping into his mouth as your clothed slit drags against the rough fabric of his jeans. Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers brushing the sensitive skin below his mask. You can feel the hair at the nape of his neck, the short strands prickling your fingers. 

Simon pulls away from your lips, releasing his hold on your thighs. You freeze, holding your breath as you wait for what’s going to happen next. You’re worried perhaps you went too far, or perhaps he’s having second thoughts. He drops his head to your chest, pressing his face against your clothed breasts. He holds himself there, taking a shaky breath in. 

“We don’t have to.” The words come spilling out. “We can stop any time.” You rub his upper back, trying to release some of the tension in his shoulders. 

“‘S not fair to you.” He murmurs, his breath hot through the thin fabric of the dress. 

“I’ll be fine.” You say, moving off his lap. 

He lets you, releasing his hold around you. He doesn’t lift his head, still bowed almost in shame. You sit next to him, close enough your arm is pressed against his. 

“Like I said, there’s no rush.” You say, trying to reassure him. 

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He says, closing his hands into fists. There’s more emotion in his voice than you’ve ever heard before, the sound almost startling compared to the usual gruffness and bite to his words. 

“You won’t.” You shrug. “I can handle Johnny just fine, and John.” You put your hand over one of his. “I would tell you, if you hurt me, or if I got uncomfortable. I’m not as breakable as you think. You’ve thrown me around in training and I’ve been fine.” 

A low sound rumbles in his chest at your words. It sends a shiver down your spine, half of your brain telling you to run, and the other half sending heat between your thighs. He sits up straight, pulling his mask down as he turns to look at you. “Touch yourself.” 

“W-What?” You ask, taken aback.

“Touch yourself for me.” He repeats himself. 

You hesitate for half a second, before you nod. “O-Okay.” You reply, thrilled and nervous at the idea. 

You push yourself up further onto the bed as Simon adjusts himself so he’s against the headboard, lounging in your bed. You ignore the feelings rushing through you at the sight of the big alpha in your nest. It’s almost comical, seeing him in his dark clothes, an imposing figure surrounded by soft blankets and stuffed animals and colorful pillows. You lean against the footboard at the end of your bed, adjusting yourself so your thighs are spread, giving him a perfect view of your fabric covered pussy. You slip your hands under the waistband of your panties, but he stops you. 

“Leave them on.” He growls, eyes glued at the slightly darker patch of fabric between your legs. 

You slowly release your panties, tugging the hem of your dress up higher before you slip your hand into your underwear. You’re soaked, your fingers slipping along the slick skin. You stare at Simon’s face, his eyes glued to the movement of your hand under your panties as you begin to tease your clit. There’s an obvious tent in his pants, a painful looking bulge in his jeans. 

A quiet sigh leaves your lips as you circle your clit slowly, spreading your legs even further, draping one over his. His hands settle on his stomach as he watches, his breathing slow and even. 

Your breathing has picked up as you continue to tease your clit. Between the moment shared with him and the intensity of his gaze on your clothed pussy, it’s almost too much. You could cum just like this, barely touched, shivering under the gaze of your pack’s second alpha. It’s the most intimate you’ve ever been with him, and you’re not even naked. 

You slip your fingers lower, gathering slick on them before pressing two into your throbbing pussy. You moan softly at the slight stretch, your eyes focusing on his hands and where they rest on his stomach. How full you’d be on his fingers. Yours are nothing compared to his. The depths he could reach, the delicious stretch of them. You sink your teeth into your lip, biting back a moan as you begin to thrust your fingers in and out of you. 

His scent is intensifying, growing muskier in his arousal as he watches you. For once he doesn’t complain about the sweetness of your scent, the two mixing in the air, the perfect blend of alpha and omega. 

“A mixture someone could get drunk off of.” 

That’s what John had said. You want to, let it flow straight into your brain and numb your senses until there’s nothing but the two of you. Until you’re full of giddy happiness and warmth as your limbs go lax and all tension and stress leaves your body. Until you forget where you are, lost in some far away land where there’s nothing but you and the overwhelming scent of alpha, of Simon. 

A shudder wracks through your body, your scent intensifying as pleasure begins to sear through your veins. Simon’s nose twitches beneath his mask, his pupils dilating as your scent goes straight to his brain. You wonder what kind of iron grip he’s keeping on himself, how he’s managing to hold himself back. You’d jump his bones right now if he hadn’t set this boundary between you. Perhaps it’s that boundary keeping him still on the bed. There certainly wouldn’t be any complains from you if he crossed that boundary, ripped your hand from your panties and fucked you until you couldn’t move. 

“Fuck.” He growls, almost as if he could read your thoughts, as if there was some sort of telepathic link between the two of you giving him a glimpse into your mind. It would explain how in tune he is with you, how he always seems to know, how easily he can read you. 

Your movements falter as he slides his hand down his stomach, tugging at the button on his jeans. You watch, enraptured as he slips his own hand into his pants, palming at his bulge. Your mouth waters at the thought of finally seeing him, of getting a glimpse of what lies beneath. He’s big, you know he has to be. Alphas generally are, thick and long to match their build.

Your pussy clenches at the thought of the stretch, how he’ll have to open you up with his fingers first so it doesn’t hurt. He’ll take good care of you, making sure you’re nice and slick and ready for him before he sinks into you, still stretching you with his cock. 

A needy moan falls from your lips as slick gushes around your fingers, increasing the wet squelch of them with every thrust. Simon’s hand slips under his briefs, wrapping around his cock. You keep your gaze on the movement of his hand beneath the fabric as he pumps his length in time with the movements of your hand. 

Your free hand grips the sheets under you as you adjust the position of your fingers, pressing your palm against your throbbing clit. The coil in your stomach is tightening, your thighs beginning to shake as you get closer and closer to the edge. 

“Gonna cum?” He rasps, his hand pumping his cock faster as he chases his own high. “Gonna cum for me?” 

“Yes!” You gasp out, curling your fingers against that spongy spot inside you. “Yes!” 

He curses, the word a drawn out rumble in his chest as your thighs close, squeezing around your hand as you cum around your fingers. Your back arches as you nearly spasm from the pleasure, working yourself through the orgasm as he grunts in pleasure from his own approaching orgasm. 

Your body settles, still shaking slightly as you withdraw your fingers from your underwear. They’re shiny with slick and your cum and you lift them to your mouth, letting your tongue dart out to lick at your own juices. 

The sound Simon lets out is nearly animalistic, the pace of his hand frantic as his head tilts back, his hips jerking. You watch him cum, the muscles in his arms flexing as he spills into his underwear. It’s beautiful, the sight of him lost in pleasure. You wish you could see his face, see the way he looks in this moment, but you can’t. Instead you focus on the way his eyes flutter, those long blonde lashes golden in the light from your lamp. 

His breaths are heavy, chest heaving as he comes down from his own high. Your own breathing has settled as you lay there lax at the end of your bed. It’s quiet between you for a moment, his gaze locked on yours. How far things have come just from a couple weeks of distance from each other. It’s impossible not to wonder if something happened, if there was a close call that caused him to think of all the things he’d regret not doing. Or perhaps it was just the distance, the realization that holding himself back was foolish and pointless. You’d welcome him with open arms, just as you had when he walked down the ramp and onto the tarmac. 

He had been the one to make that first move, kissing you when you least expected it. What had gone through his head to cause such a reaction? Had he panicked just as much as you would have, overthinking it until he convinced himself you wouldn't want it? Did the emotions of the moment take over and he couldn’t stop himself from giving in to those desires? Or had he simply faced those fears head on and did it because he wanted to? 

He knows how you feel. The kiss in the car had confirmed that, and you inviting him into your space was the gavel strike that sealed your fates. You don’t want to turn back, you wouldn’t turn back, not after everything. 

Simon moves first, pushing himself up to sit on the edge of your bed. You desperately want to know what he’s thinking, what’s going on in his head. He doesn’t regret this decision, does he? You’ve leaped over the boundaries he’d once set, sharing such an intimate, vulnerable moment with each other. You’d let him go if he wanted to leave, no matter how desperately you’d want to cling to him and beg him to stay. 

He pushes himself up to stand, jeans still unbuttoned as he turns to face you. “Be right back.” He says, leaning down to press a kiss to your head through the mask before he heads into your bathroom, closing the door. 

You let out a quiet breath, sitting there for a moment before you get up, tugging your sundress off. It’s late, the others likely in bed already, or heading that way. You wonder if he’ll be permitted a day off tomorrow, or if he’ll even want to take one. You know how strictly he likes to keep to his schedule, even when he has to be utterly exhausted. 

You’re tempted to pull his shirt off the bear and wear it as you stand there in nothing but your panties, but you’re not sure if that will be pushing too much at once. You decide against it, instead digging out a baggy shirt from your dresser, pulling it over your head. 

You rearrange your nest as water runs in the bathroom, pushing most of the pillows and stuffed animals to the end of the bed before you turn down the blankets, climbing in. Simon’s scent wafts up around you as you lay down, unable to stop yourself as you press your face into your pillow and inhale deeply. Your tongue darts out, pressing against the fabric before you can stop it. It’s musky and slightly tangy, making your mouth water. You want to lick it from the source, wrap your teeth around Simon’s scent gland and devour him. 

Your mind is hazy as you push yourself away from the pillow, blinking away the animalistic thoughts seeping to the front of your brain as the bathroom door opens. Simon steps out, taking a couple slow steps to the middle of your room. He stands there like he’s unsure of what to do next. Should he offer to leave, or ask to join you in bed? You can see the hesitation, the conflict as he tries to decide which is okay, which one might be the best decision. 

“You could join me, if you want.” You say, giving him an offer, a chance at a decision. You wouldn’t be upset if he left, well, not entirely. He’s shown a lot of vulnerability tonight, and you wouldn’t blame him if he wanted space to think over things. You don’t want him to leave, but you’d understand if he did. 

“Is that what you want?” He asks, shifting on his feet. 

“I did offer.” You shrug. “It’s up to you. I can always cuddle the bear.” 

His gaze drops to the bear seated on the floor next to the bed, still wearing his black t-shirt. His hands curl into fists before he looks back up at you. “Move over.” 

You try to hide your grin as you press yourself back against the wall, watching as he unbuttons his jeans again. He pulls them off, folding them in half before draping them over your footboard. This is the most exposed he’s been in front of you, the most skin you’ve seen at one time. You can’t help but stare at his legs, thick thighs dusted with dark blonde hair and covered in scars. They’re not surprising to you, not after seeing the others, though he has the most by far. Small lines, pink and white speckling the skin. There’s a puckered scar on one calf, a bullet wound you now know. There’s a long, thick scar on the other thigh cutting from the side of his knee, up his thigh until it disappears under his briefs. 

You quickly avert your gaze as you realize he’s standing there, watching you. He quickly crawls under the blankets, a nervous sweat starting to form across your back. You don’t mean to make him uncomfortable, but it’s hard not to stare. You want to know, you want every story that explains every scar. You can’t even begin to imagine the horror of the big one on his leg. So far John has been the only one to tell you about all of his scars, as much as he could at least. Johnny had relayed a couple dramatic stories about his, and Kyle has told you about a couple when you’ve asked. You’re not even sure you could ask Simon, much less how you would go about it. 

You’re pulled from your thoughts as you’re suddenly yanked down against Simon’s chest, his arm wrapped around your back. 

“You’re thinking too much.” He says, shifting just slightly to get comfortable on the small bed. It’s a tight squeeze with the two of you, forcing you to nearly lay half on top of him. You’ve never wanted that dream of a bigger bed to be more true than in this moment. 

“Sorry.” You say, wincing at your instinct to apologize again. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” 

“Not uncomfortable.” He says, his voice rumbling in his chest. “Just not used to it yet.” 

“Is that why you keep yourself covered as much as possible? The scars?” You ask, biting your lip as soon as the question comes out. You hadn’t meant to ask it out loud, but you can’t stop your curiosity. 

“Partly.” He says, his thumb stroking your back. “People like to stare, they like to talk.” 

“I don’t care about the scars.” You say quietly. “You all have them. Just...makes me worried thinking about the things that caused them.” 

He hums quietly, the sound vibrating in your ear. “Some scars are symbols of survival. Things that almost killed us, that should have. Some are old wounds the body won’t let go of.” 

“That’s very poetic.” You murmur. 

His hand squeezes your side. “Don’t tell Johnny. He’ll never let me live it down.” 

A sleepy smile tugs at your lips, the exhaustion of the day and the bliss from the events of the last hour begin to drag your mind into the realm of sleep. Simon reaches for your lamp, shutting it off, bathing the room in near darkness.The dark doesn’t scare you anymore, not with Simon here. His violence and brutality should scare you, but instead, it only makes you feel safe. He’d make anyone who dared to try and hurt you pay. 

“Sweet dreams, Simon.” You murmur, a quiet purr rumbling in your chest, content as you drift off to sleep. 

It’s light out, the first rays of sunlight streaming through your window. You rub your eyes from the offending light, reaching for your sheets to tug them over your head but they’re caught around something. Your elbow knocks against something solid as you try and pull them up, a quiet grunt sounding beside you. 

Arms wrap around you, pinning you against a solid warmth. “Stop movin’.” Simon grumbles, tossing a leg over you to keep you still. 

You’ve traded places with him in the night, his back against the wall as you lay stretched out on your back. A quiet purr starts rumbling in your chest as the memories from last night begin to seep through your half-awake brain. He stayed the whole night with you. You had half expected him to get up, to leave, to wake up early, stick to his normal routine. Instead he’d stayed, even far later than he usually would. 

You turn your attention to the arm wrapped around you, your eyes trailing his tattoos. You’ve never seen them this close, able to make out the details of them now. Your fingers begin to trace his tattoos, working your way up his arm until you reach his sleeve, pushing it up as you continue to follow the tattoos all the way up to his shoulder. It’s when you get there you see something familiar. You hold his sleeve out of the way as you trace over the three images. 

“You got a tattoo for each member of the pack.” You say quietly. 

“Almost.” He says, tightening his hold around you. “Missing one.” 

You turn as best you can to look up at him, the meaning of his words not lost on you. His eyes are still closed, and had you not known better, you might have guessed he was still sleeping. His breaths are slow and even, his body still and relaxed. 

“What are you going to get?” You ask. 

“Haven’t decided yet.” He says simply. 

You turn in his grasp, managing to free one of your legs so you can toss it over his hip as you snuggle in close to him. “You could get a kitten, since that’s what Johnny calls me.” 

He snorts. “Absolutely not.” 

“Why not?” You say. “A fluffy little kitten would be cute!” 

“It would throw off the aesthetic.” He says, squishing you up against his chest. 

“Can I go with you when you get it?” You ask. 

“We’ll see.” He sighs, adjusting his leg between yours. 

You bite your lip as it presses against your mound. How easy it would be to press your hips down, grind against him. There’s still a warm electric current thrumming through you from the events of last night. Things have moved fast between you. You’ve gone from thinking he hates you to masturbating in front of each other in a matter of weeks. The leaps you’ve made between the two weeks he was gone almost seem surreal. Does he regret last night? Will he change his mind, retreat back into himself once the reality sets in? You had thought there was no going back once he stepped into your room, but in reality, he could decide to pull back, he could decide this isn’t what he wants after all. 

You’d let him. You’d watch him revert back into himself, face the pain of rejection and acknowledge that what you wanted turned out to be nothing but a dream. His comfort matters more than your needs. You’d fight to cling to the fraying bonds for nothing else besides the sanity and stability of your pack. His rejection would slice clean through those supposedly indestructible bonds, disrupting the dynamic of the pack. It would fracture, crumbling like a building with a structural failure. The bonds that they built with each other, the bonds they’ve built with you will snap leaving decaying waste with you and Johnny caught right in the middle of it all. 

You’ll do everything in your power to cling to those decaying edges, frantically gluing them back together like omegas are supposed to. Fight to hold the pack together while the betas desperately try to resolve the tension and keep everyone sane. It will be the end of the pack, the initiative will be a failure. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have pushed so much. It’s all going to go down in flames because of you. 

“You’re thinking too much again.” 

The quiet rumble of Simon’s voice pulls you from your spiraling thoughts. It drags you back to reality, back into your body from the quickly deepening hole of worry and fear in your mind. Your eyelids flutter as you take a deep breath, the musky scent of alpha clearing away the haze that had come over your mind. You’re still laying in Simon’s arms, pressed up against his chest, his thigh pressed between your legs. 

“How do you always know?” You murmur, snaking your arm around his side. 

“You have tells. You freeze, staying so still even the best snipers in the world would be impressed. You get this glazed over look in your eyes, and your scent changes depending on what you’re thinking about.” He says, tightening his hold around you. 

“You notice all of that?” You ask in amazement and embarrassment that he can read you so easily. You’re still not used to it, his uncanny ability to just know things when it comes to you. 

“‘S part of my job,” He says, shifting slightly closer to you. “What makes me so good at it.” His face presses against the top of your head as his thigh shifts between your legs, putting even more pressure against your clothed pussy. “You’re overthinking this, aren't you.” 

“I just...” You let out a shuddering breath, trying to ignore the throbbing between your legs. “I need to know if you regret last night.” 

A low grumble vibrates through his chest before you find yourself suddenly on your back under him. It happened so fast your brain can’t even register it completely, his hand is gripping your thigh, the one you had thrown over his waist, keeping it hooked over his hip. He’s pressed between your legs, body slotted against yours like he was made to fit there perfectly. Hard edges pressed against your soft curves. 

“Does this feel like regret to you?” He says, voice rumbling deep in his chest as he presses his hips into yours. 

You can feel him...all of him through his briefs as he presses against you, nothing but thin fabric separating you. He’s just as big as you imagined, long and thick and throbbing. He drags his hips along your covered slit, closer than he’s ever been to you. The electrifying moment during training is almost nothing compared to the feeling of him pressed against you. 

“No.” You squeak out, wrapping your arms around his back as he continues to grid against you. You can feel every inch of him against your quickly dampening underwear, the fabric sticking to you and providing delicious friction with every roll of his hips. 

Your hands slip under his shirt, your palms pressing against the warm skin of his lower back. A shudder runs through him, dragging a low growl from his lips. He releases you just long enough to tug his mask up over his mouth before he descends on your neck, your head tilting to the side to give him room. 

The front of his briefs are quickly getting wet from the slick coating your thighs and his precum. Your nails sink into his skin as his teeth scrape across your throat, his tongue following to ease the sensitive, stinging skin. 

“Simon,” You whimper, pressing your hips up against him, desperately seeking relief from the ache building in your core. 

He lifts his face from your throat, your lips clashing against his in a mix of teeth and tongue. His hand slips up to cup the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair. He uses his hold on you for leverage as the drag of his hips becomes almost violent. You can imagine it, the feeling of his cock thrusting into you, reaching so deep you can feel him in your stomach, the way you’ll ache for days after he’s done with you. 

“Simon, fuck...” You whine against his lips, your legs shaking as you get closer and closer to the edge. “Please!” 

His grunts and moans have turned into growls, low and deep in his chest. It sends a shiver up your spine, your omega rolling in your mind, scratching to be free. You sink your teeth into his lower lip until you taste blood, the air between you quickly becoming primal. His hand tugs on your hair, pulling your head back until your throat is bared to him. He sinks his teeth into the skin, biting until you yelp. He eases back, dragging his tongue over the sore spot. 

Your moans get louder as you get closer and closer to the edge, every sharp bite of his teeth into your neck sending a shockwave of pleasure straight to where his cock drags against your clit. You feel alive, your vision getting sharper as you get closer and closer to your orgasm. 

“Simon....Simon please.” You whine, clutching him to you so tightly it almost hurts. “I need you. Need you to rearrange my guts, fuck me until I can’t stand. Make me hurt, remind me that I’m yours.” 

A low growl reverberates in his chest, vibrating through your entire body. Your thighs squeeze around his hips, hanging onto him for dear life as he ruts against you like an animal. “Say it again.” He growls, his teeth scraping the sensitive skin of your ear. 

“I’m yours.” You gasp, your back arching. “Have been since the first day.”

“Fucking hell.” He grunts, grinding his hips against yours with so much force the headboard bangs against the wall. 

You cum almost instantly, soaking your underwear and his briefs. He shoves his face into your throat, inhaling deeply against your scent gland. His hand grips the pillow next to your head, his body tensing as his hips jerk against yours. Warmth coats his briefs as he spills into them for a second time in the last day, a deep growl rumbling in his chest as he nearly goes limp on top of you. 

Both of you lay there, shaking and twitching in the aftershocks of your orgasms. It’s hot and stuffy in the room, the heat from Simon’s body not helping any. For a moment you wonder if he’s fallen asleep again from how still and relaxed he is, but the twitch of his body as you soothe your hands over the marks you’ve left on his back says otherwise. 

“Simon?” You speak his name quietly in the sudden stillness of the room. 

“Soon.” He says, slowly beginning to untangle himself from you. “I’ll give you what you need soon.” He presses a kiss to your cheek, shockingly soft compared to what had just transpired. 

He slips a hand around your back, flipping the two of you again as he flops on his back on your bed. You fall against his chest, resting your head over his heart. Despite the exertion, it’s thumping steadily and evenly. Your pussy clenches at the thought of his stamina, how long he’ll be able to go. You’ll tire before him, nothing but a boneless, babbling omega as he fucks you blind and unconscious. 

The moment is ruined by the knock at the door, both of you tensing for a moment. 

“If you don’t hurry, you’ll miss breakfast.” John’s voice sounds from the other side. 

Your cheeks warm at the idea of him hearing what had just transpired. How long has he been standing out there, waiting for you to finish? Does he think Simon was just fucking you, or does he somehow know you had just been rutting away like two eager pups? You can picture the tent in his pants, the way he adjusts the painful bulge at the thought of you being taken by his second alpha. He’s been waiting for this, for the walls to finally come down, for you and Simon to finally release that pent up energy and remove the weight that has been hovering over everyone’s heads. 

“Come on,” Simon says, sitting up with you in his arms. “Need to get some food in you.” He stands, still holding you like it’s nothing to him. It probably isn’t, but the thought has your face nearly bursting into flames. 

He sets you back on your feet, his hands lingering on your sides. You stare up into his eyes, getting lost in the beautiful brown irises. He holds your gaze for a moment before delivering a sharp swat to your ass. 

“Get yourself cleaned up, then we’ll go.” He pulls away from you, grabbing his jeans off the end of your bed. 

You stare at his ass as he bends over to pull them on, an idea popping in your head. “Wait,” You say before he can leave, pulling off your panties. You tuck them into his back pocket, giving it a firm pat. “Keep them.” You stand up on your toes, kissing his cheek before scurrying off to the bathroom before you get distracted again. 

You’re still shaking as you tug your shirt over your head. You look like you’ve been mauled by an animal as you stare at yourself in the mirror. There’s marks across your neck from Simon’s teeth, and your hair is a tangled mess from his hands. Your thighs are trembling a bit as you stand there, your slick drying uncomfortably on your thighs. Your lips feel bruised as you quickly brush your teeth before stepping into the shower. 

The excited tremble of your hands makes holding the body wash a struggle. You still feel electric, your mind rushing from not one but two very intimate moments between you and Simon. If this is how you feel now, you can only imagine how you’ll feel after actually having sex.

You feel a bit sore as you get dressed, doing your best to hide the scattering of marks across your skin. You don’t really have to hide them. Everyone knows you fuck the members of the 141. The images that must flash through their minds when you walk around with them. Do they think you take all of them at once? On your knees as they stand around you, being a good omega for them like in some cheesy porn video? Or bent over, presented for them as they make a mess of your pussy, fucking each other’s cum into you until you can’t hold anymore and it seeps out, leaving you laying in a puddle of it?

Your pussy clenches at the thought, warmth starting to pool in your stomach again. 

“Down girl.” You say, talking to yourself as you slip on your shoes. “We’re not there,” You straighten back up, smoothing your hands over your shirt. “Yet.” 

You take a deep breath, trying to steady the excited thrumming between your legs as you step out into the hallway. Simon is waiting for you, having changed clothes, or at least you think so. He’s in a black t-shirt and jeans still, his most common uniform when he’s not in training. 

“Come on, let’s go.” He says, motioning towards the door with his head. 

He didn’t change his shirt. 

The overwhelming scent of alpha and sex and you is wafting off of him. He might as well be wearing a bright neon sign declaring what you were up to this morning. Your omega purrs at the idea of him being coated in your scent, staking your claim over him. Maybe you shouldn’t have showered after all, wanting to wear a matching scent projecting his own claim over you. 

The mess is sparsely occupied this late in the morning, something you’re silently grateful for. Had you walked in during the peak breakfast time, you might have died on the spot. Most don’t pass a glance your way, only those you pass by directly giving you both a second look. 

Simon yanks your tray from your hands as you grab one, setting it down on the counter next to his. He begins spooning food onto it, adding the things you like. You stare at your tray wide-eyed as he fills it, your omega practically preening. 

He doesn’t even let you carry it to the table, setting it down next to his. You beam up at him as he stares down at you, unable to hide your smile. 

“What?” He asks, his eyes scanning your face. 

Your smile widens. “Thanks for making my tray.” 

He glances down at your full tray before looking back at you. “Sit down and start eating.” 

You can’t stop smiling as you sit on the bench, Simon going to get you something to drink. The activities this morning have left you hungry, hungry enough that the mess food looks appetizing. Simon returns quickly, setting a cup of tea down in front of you. 

“Tea?” You ask, staring at it.

“Yeah. ‘S good for you.” He says, starting in on his own breakfast. “Better than that sugary milk you call coffee.” 

“But you put sugar and milk in your tea.” You say, looking up at him. 

He turns to you, giving you an exasperated look. “Anyone ever tell you you’re annoying?” 

“Yeah. All the time.” You say, taking a bite out of the sausage on your fork. 

“Little shit.” He murmurs under his breath, turning back to his own tray. 

You both eat in comfortable silence, no awkward or tentative energy between you like you had worried there would be after the events that transpired over the last few hours. There’s no dancing around each other anymore, the forced distance dispersed between you. It makes you happy, your omega satisfied as your pack now feels complete. 

You almost feel like skipping as Simon leads you back to the barracks. You slip your hand into his, swinging your arms back and forth. He doesn’t pull away or even complain at your actions, letting you have your moment. Who knew he was such a big softie underneath all that armor? 

Well, you sort of knew the whole time. He could have been mean. He could have been nasty towards you, forcing you into a corner made up of only you, John, and Kyle. He could have kept Johnny from you, drawing that line in the pack and keeping you on one side. He could have let you face the consequences of punching that alpha on your own. So many times he could have left you on your own, been rough with you, let things escalate until he was violent, let his anger win and use it against you as many alphas do. 

But he didn’t. 

Even in his early avoidance of you, he was never a bad alpha towards you. He might not have liked you at first, or approved of your presence, but he never took it out on you. He put up with you because he had to, until his hesitant tolerance grew into more. You had wiggled your way in without even knowing it, long before you started trying, long before you became determined to win his approval for your sake, as well as the rest of the pack’s. 

Look at you now, holding his hand after he made you orgasm an hour ago. You would have never thought you’d get to this place with him back then. You’ve surpassed the point you wanted to get to, but you’re certainly not going to complain. You’ve gotten what you wanted, and from the sounds of it, so has he. 

It’s been two days since Simon’s return, and he has yet to fuck you. The marks on your neck have begun to fade, and you wonder if he’s waiting until they’re gone so he can make new ones. He certainly hasn’t been ignoring you, no he’s been quite clingy. He sits close to you, holds your hand every chance he can. He’s been filling your trays at meals when he takes you to the mess, something John is content to let him do. 

Your omega is satisfied, still preening at the idea of him courting you. You certainly won’t complain, nor will you try to stop him. He could claim you too, if he wanted. He could have claimed you from the start and you would have let him. Back then it would have been because it was your duty to do what your pack wanted. Now it would be because you want him to. You want to be his, just as much as you’re John’s. 

You won’t tell him that, though. Not yet. You don’t want to push him, to seem like you’re trying to move too quickly. You don’t want to scare him off now after making so much progress. That can be a conversation for later, once the two of you have adjusted to this new development in your relationship. 

An excited shiver trails down your spine as you stand outside the door. It’s early, but the world outside is grey with the coming dawn. Your heart jumps as the door in front of you opens, Simon pausing as he exits his room. He blinks down at you as you grin up at him, obviously not expecting you to be up and ready before him. 

“Ready to go?” You say, bouncing excitedly on your toes. 

He rolls his eyes at you, pulling his door closed behind him. “You’re in far too good a mood for 4:30 in the morning.” 

“I’m excited.” You say, taking his arm as you walk down the hallway. 

“And far too happy.” He says as you step out into the cool morning air. 

“I am happy.” You say, leaning your head against his arm. “You make me happy.” 

He lets out a sigh, and you can almost hear him rolling his eyes at you. “Don’t make me regret this.” 

You pause outside the door to the gym, looking up at him. “You don’t, do you?” 

He stares down at you for a long moment, your heart beating in your ears. You don’t want to scare him off with your happiness, the glee you can’t control at the relief of finally being accepted by him, of finally feeling like your pack is complete. 

“No.” He says, opening the door for you. “Now get your ass inside.” 

Relief floods through you, a smile tugging at your lips as you step into the gym. It’s quiet inside, quieter than normal even for 4 AM. 

“Most of them are out running drills today.” Simon says as he leads you down the hallway to the training room. “Base will be quiet.” 

“Won’t catch me complaining.” You say as you step into the training room. 

Simon locks the door behind you, setting his things on the bench and kicking off his shoes. You stare at him shamelessly as you follow him onto the mat, unsure whether you should thank or curse the grey sweatpants hugging his ass. 

He turns to face you and you decide to curse them, warmth flooding through you. Your mind flashes back to the morning after his return, the feeling of his cock grinding against you, his teeth sinking into your skin, leaving marks all over you. 

Fuck this is going to be a long training session. 

You’re half distracted as he runs you through combinations, most of your punches missing, your kicks almost half-hearted as most of your energy is pulsing between your legs. You keep messing up, punching at the wrong time, the order getting messed up in your mind. Agreeing to train today was probably a bad idea, given the uncontrollable lust that’s been plaguing you. Being so close to Simon and his scent isn’t helping either. 

You mess up another combo, half distracted, half dazed as you throw a punch, missing the mitt entirely. Simon lets out a frustrated growl, moving before you can even think to block yourself as he drives his shoulder into the center of your chest. You fall flat on your back, the air leaving your lungs with a sharp gasp. 

You lay there, coughing and gasping as he comes to stand over you, staring down at you disappointedly. “You’re distracted.” 

“Yeah,” You cough out, trying to catch your breath. “You keep fucking with my head.” 

“Half of fighting an alpha is a mind game. They’re going to fuck with you, because it will work.” He says, lowering himself to his knees over you. 

“Yeah, but this is different.” You say, your breathing finally returning back to normal. 

Or it was. Your inhale catches in your throat as he leans over you, his hands settling on either side of your head. “How?” He asks, his voice rougher than it had been. 

You take a deep breath as you stare up at him, feeling very small in this position, but you know he’s doing it on purpose. “I don’t want you to fuck with my head,” You say, trying to gain the upper hand. “I want you to fuck me.” 

Your words stun him for a moment, and you take the opportunity to try and reverse your positions. You swing your fist towards his side, aiming for the spot below his ribs. He recovers faster than you thought he might, catching your hand before you can make contact. He pins it to the mat beside your head, pinning your other hand on the other side. You try to use your knees to hit him, but he settles his weight over you, effectively pinning you to the mat. 

The position is reminiscent of the morning after he returned, his body pressed into yours, clinging to you as you both chased your orgasms. It sends a shiver down your spine, your body shuddering under him. His grip around your wrists shifts, pulling your hands over your head. He holds them with one of his own hands, keeping them pinned to the mat. A thrill shoots through you as you stare up at him, his body shifting to the side. 

“You want me to fuck you?” He growls, lifting his mask up to his nose. “Want me to take you right here where anyone walking by could hear you screaming my name? Where they could stand at the door jerking themselves off like needy pups, hoping to get just a whiff of your scent?” 

You would let him. He could take you right now on this mat and you wouldn’t care. Heat is pulsing between your legs, slick soaking your underwear and quickly beginning to seep through to your leggings. 

“Yes!” You whine, clenching your thighs together, seeking out any kind of friction you can get. “Please!” 

His free hand grips your chin, fingers pressing into your cheeks to force your mouth open. He leans over you, holding your gaze as he spits into your mouth. Your whine is cut off as two of his fingers follow, pressing against your tongue. They taste salty from the sweat on his hands, yet you don’t care, licking the sweat from his skin. The pulsing of your pussy is starting to get to be too much, your thighs rubbing together in a desperate attempt to ease the ache. 

You moan around his fingers, laving your tongue over them as he shifts his gaze to your legs, watching you squirm and writhe. You can hardly stand it, his scent getting thicker and thicker in the air as he begins to get aroused as well. You nip at his fingers, trying to get him to pull them from your mouth. 

“Please!” You gasp as soon as your mouth is free. “Fucking touch me, Simon!” 

It’s like he had been waiting for your permission as his hand slips between your clenched thighs, cupping you over your leggings. You press your hips into his hand, grinding against him in desperate need for release. 

“What, you want this?” He says, rubbing his hand along your clothed slit. 

“Yes!” You almost sob, squeezing your thighs around his hand. “Please, Simon! Please!”

You lift your head as he slides his hand up your pelvis until it’s resting right at the waistband of your leggings. His eyes are on your face as he slowly pushes his fingers under the fabric, trailing lower and lower until he reaches the top of your mound. Your breath hitches in anticipation, lips parted as your chest heaves with every breath. So close. You’re so close to finally being touched by him. So close to getting relief. 

Your head falls back against the mat, a loud moan slipping from your lips as he finally slides his fingers lower, the rough pads brushing over your clit. “Fuck...” You whine, letting your legs fall open as he begins to circle the sensitive bud. 

It’s more than you could have imagined, better than you would have ever thought, and all he’s done is rub a few circles over your clit. His touch is electric, lighting a fire in you again, sending shocks straight through your nervous system and into your brain. You push against the hand holding your wrists but he doesn’t relent, not letting you touch him like you so desperately want to. 

His fingers leave your clit, sliding lower until they’re pressed against your hole. You shift your hips against his hand, trying to get even some relief from the ache that’s been throbbing between your legs for two days. You’ve avoided even touching yourself, wanting to make sure you were still sensitive and ready for when Simon decided he was ready. You’re glad for that now as Simon presses two of his fingers into you, your walls clamping down around them tightly. 

“C’mon,” He groans in your ear, his tongue darting out to lick at the sweat dampening your face. “Relax for me.” 

You breathe deeply, trying to get yourself to relax as he pushes his fingers further into you. His fingers are so long and thick, his knuckles catching at your entrance. 

“This tight around my fingers, how are you gonna take my cock?” He groans, thrusting his fingers gently to try and open you up for him. 

“I can take it.” You pant, bucking your hips against his hand to take his fingers deeper into you. 

“Been a while since someone fucked you, huh?” He says, beginning to thrust his fingers in and out of you. 

“Weeks.” You whine, your pussy fluttering around his fingers in relief. “Not since before you left.” 

“Oh?” His brows raise in surprise. 

“Missed you too much.” You gasp as he speeds up the movements of his fingers. “Didn’t want to.” 

“You were hoping I’d fuck you when I got back, huh.” He says, curling his fingers inside you. “Give this poor neglected cunt some attention.” 

You let out a moan that’s almost a sob as he finds that spongy spot inside you, directing the movements of his fingers directly against it. Your hands close into fists, pushing against his but he doesn’t let you go, starting to nearly pound his fingers against that spot. 

It’s too much and not enough all at once, your body starting to shake almost violently as pressure builds in your stomach. You’re being loud but you don’t care, unable to hold anything back as pleasure ripples through you, nearly blacking out your vision. You writhe on the mat, legs shaking as your feet plant on the floor, lifting your hips up against his hand. 

“That’s it.” He groans, the wet squelch of his fingers obscene in the quiet training room. 

Your body writhes from the intensity of your pleasure, tears leaking from your eyes uncontrollably. You can’t tell if you’re moaning or sobbing or both as pleasure cuts like a knife through you, toes curling and uncurling in your shoes. It’s like you’ve lost all control, your body given over to the pleasure as his fingers are pushed out of you from the force of your orgasm, fluid soaking your underwear.

You’re shuddering and shaking under him as his fingers return to your clit, rubbing it harshly. It’s almost too much, your pussy contracting almost painfully. A second orgasm is forced out of you, your thighs clamping together, your leggings soaked with fluid between your thighs. 

Simon finally relents, pulling his fingers from your pants. They’re soaked, shiny and slick with your release. You’re gasping for air, body still shaking in the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

“Good girl.” Simon praises you, wiping his hand on his sweatpants as he leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. It’s strange, the tenderness after what he had just done to your body. 

And that was only with his fingers. 

He eases you up to sit, your legs trembling uncontrollably. You’re not sure how you’re even supposed to stand on them, much less walk. There’s an uncomfortable wetness between your legs, your panties and leggings sticking to your skin. 

“Easy.” He says, supporting your body as you try to rise to your feet. 

There’s a small puddle where you were laying, the outline of your body in sweat on the mat and then more fluid beneath where your ass had been. Simon lifts you into his arms, carrying you over to the bench before sitting you down. He wipes down the mat, cleaning up the mess you left before he approaches you again. 

“What was that?” You ask, shifting uncomfortably in your wet underwear. 

Simon smirks, slipping his phone and keys as well as your phone into his pockets. “Made you squirt, love.” 

Your mouth falls open, your thighs subconsciously clenching together. “You-what?” You blink in surprise. “Didn’t know I could do that.” 

He chuckles, lifting you into his arms again. “Gotta know what you’re doing to make it happen.” 

Warmth floods your cheeks as the double meaning of his words aren’t lost on you. You’re glad for the cool air outside as he carries you back towards the barracks, your legs still trembling a bit from the intense orgasm he had just given you. You’re glad the base is mostly empty, the thought of others knowing what he had just done to you is almost too much. 

“What happened?” Johnny asks as soon as Simon enters the door of the barracks, his eyes flickering back and forth between you. “Didnae hurt her, did ye?” He asks, getting defensive. 

“Quite the opposite.” Simon says, walking past him towards your door. “Taught her a little party trick.” 

Johnny’s nostrils flare as your scent finally hits him, his eyes going wide. “Fucking christ, Simon.” 

He starts towards your door as Simon sets you on your feet, but the alpha pushes him back, keeping him from entering your room. “Easy, mutt. She’s had enough this morning. Let’s get some food and liquids into her first.” 

Your pussy clenches in anticipation at his words and you quickly close the door before you, or they, change their minds. 

You’re not quite sure what to do as you stand in front of the open door, peering into a space you’ve never been in before. It almost feels wrong to take the step, to enter into sacred ground you’ve been kept out of until now. The space is plain and laid out not entirely unlike your own. There’s books lining the back of the desk, a box with what looks like records sitting on the floor next to it, and what looks like a painting hanging on the wall. The wardrobe is exactly where yours is, and you can assume there’s a dresser behind the door. 

“You going to come in or do I have to drag you?” 

You startle at the voice, lifting your gaze to Simon’s. He’s standing in the middle of the room, staring at you as you hesitate in the doorway. You swallow the lump in your throat, taking a step into the room, and then another. 

All feelings of plainness go out the window as you step further in. His bed is the same as yours, sheets blue instead of black like you might have assumed. There’s a nightstand next to the bed with a lamp and his phone, but that’s not what’s surprising to you. 

Across the wall behind his bed is a black and white mural of skulls stretching wall to wall, ceiling to floor. You stare at it in awe, taking in all the details, the shading, the realism. 

“Johnny did it for me.” Simon says, stepping up next to you. “Not long after I claimed him.” 

“It’s incredible.” You say. “Very fitting.” 

“Might need to commission him for another piece, one of the ones he’s done of you.” 

Your cheeks warm at his words, very aware of Johnny’s stash of drawings of you from pictures he’s snapped while you weren’t looking, and some while you were. You’d flipped through his sketchbook, just happening upon a rather detailed drawing of your tits when he’d grabbed it and quickly shoved it on top of his wardrobe. 

It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out what filled the rest of the pages in that book. 

“I’m sure he’d be happy to do one for you.” You say, turning to face him. “Maybe if you ask nicely, I could be convinced to do a custom reference for him.” 

His eyes darken as he stares at you, a low growl rumbling in his chest. Your teeth sink into your lip as you stare up at him, refusing to look away despite the strong musky scent rolling off of him. You stand your ground, pushing back against his attempts to make you yield, to make you submit. 

A shiver runs down your spine as he takes a step closer, and then another. You can feel the warmth of his body as he looms over you, his hand lifting to settle on your waist. His thumb brushes your side through your shirt, the heat of his palm radiating through the fabric. 

“You want me to fuck you?” He asks, his voice rumbling deep in his chest. 

“Yes, sir.” You respond. 

His hand tightens around your waist, his scent intensifying at your words. “Fuck,” He hisses, the front of his pants suddenly getting tighter. “Brazen little shit.” 

A smile tugs at your lips. “You love it.” 

“Mmm, you seem so sure of that.” He says, tugging the bottom of his mask up. 

“Because I am.” You say, lifting yourself up onto your toes. 

He bends down, meeting you halfway. Your lips clash in a fiery kiss, your hands lifting to grip his shoulders. His own slide down your sides to grip your thighs, lifting you into his arms. He walks backwards, kicking his door closed before pressing you up against it. 

You moan as your back hits the door, Simon’s tongue sliding into your mouth as soon as your lips part. The kiss is messy and rough, his fingers digging into your thighs as he pins you against his door. It’s finally happening, what you’ve been waiting for. Two long days you’ve been waiting and wishing for this moment. Simon’s bruising grip on your thighs, and the low rumbling growl echoing in his chest speak volumes of his own desire. 

His grip tightens on you, almost becoming painful as his teeth sink into your lip. You let out a surprised yelp as he breaks the skin, the coppery tang of blood filling your mouth. 

You nearly hit the floor as Simon wrenches himself away from you, stumbling back a couple of steps. He wipes the blood from his lip and you quickly purse your own lips to try and hide the blood. He turns his back to you, his shoulders tensed and slightly hunched. 

“Simon?” You take half a step forward, but he lifts his hand, making you pause. 

You stay where you are, staring at his back. You don’t want this to ruin things, to push him away from you. A little blood hasn’t stopped you so far, nor has a little pain. You can tell he’s nervous, though, on edge, and you know exactly why. 

“Simon?” You say quietly, approaching him slowly. 

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He says, repeating the words he’s said over and over the last few weeks. It’s almost like a mantra now, and you can imagine it echoing over and over in his head. He turns his head to look at you over his shoulder as you reach him. 

“You won’t.” You say, putting your hands on his back, turning him slowly. “You haven’t so far. His eyes flicker between the healing marks on your neck, and your bleeding lip. “I trust you, Simon.” 

“You shouldn’t.” He says, his hands closing into fists. 

“Don’t be stupid.” You say, rolling your eyes. “We both want this. Denying it isn’t going to make anything better. I trust your ability to control yourself, and you have to trust that I’ll tell you if you go too far.” 

“What if I can’t stop?” 

“Johnny’s next door, and John is across the hall.” You say simply. “If nothing else, I’ll scream. They’ll know the difference.” You take his face in your hands, pulling him down slightly so you can look him in the eyes easier. “Let me be in control if you’re so worried.” 

A rumble vibrates deep in his chest at your words, his eyes flashing. Your thumbs stroke his cheeks, ghosting over his five-o’clock shadow. 

“The mask can stay on, hell all of your clothes can stay on.” You shrug. “I’ll take good care of you, I promise.” 

He stares down into your eyes for a moment before leaning forward, pressing a kiss to your lips. It’s softer this time, less heated and animalistic than before. 

Simon releases you, taking a step back. He unbuttons his pants, letting them drop to the floor, leaving him in just his briefs. He picks them up, folding them like he did two nights ago, draping them over the back of his desk chair. He hesitates for a moment so you take the lead, pulling your shirt up over your head. You drop your shorts as well, leaving you in just your bra and underwear. 

Simon’s eyes scan your body and you fight the urge to cover yourself under his intense gaze. He steps forward, his fingers reaching for you. They’re surprisingly soft as they trail up your arm, goosebumps forming on your skin. His eyes follow the path of his fingers before they reach the strap of your bra. He slips his fingers underneath, pulling it up before he releases it, letting it snap against your skin. 

“Take it off.” He says, a subtle growl underneath his voice. 

It sends a shiver down your spine, goosebumps forming all over your skin. “Thought I was in charge, Mr. Big Alpha Man.” 

“Little shit.” He breathes, letting out a long sigh. 

You reach behind you anyway, undoing your bra and letting it fall to the floor. 

“Christ.” He breathes, his eyes glued right on your tits. 

“Understanding all the hype now?” You smirk. “You can touch them if you’d like.” 

He curses under his breath but lifts his hands anyway, cupping your breasts. You bite your lip as he squeezes them gently, his eyes glued to your chest. 

“Didn’t take you for a tits guy.” You say, biting back a moan as his thumb brushes over your nipple. 

“I'm just full of surprises.” He says, earning a surprised yelp as he tugs harshly on your nipple. 

He leans down, dragging his tongue over the sensitive skin to soothe it. You let out a soft moan at the sensation, your hands lifting to grip his biceps. 

“Fuck,” He groans against your skin, straightening back up. “On the bed.” He says, motioning with his head. 

“Thought I was in charge.” You sass. 

“Thought you wanted me to fuck you.” He retorts. 

You open your mouth to argue but you can't. You know he's right, so instead you make your way to the bed, crawling onto the mattress, making sure he can see the damp spot on your underwear as you do. 

You pause when you hear crinkling, running your hand over the sheet. “A heat liner?” 

“Gotta protect the mattress.” He shrugs, approaching the bed. 

Your eyes widen as your face warms, the implications not lost on you. You think back to earlier in the gym, your face only warming even more. “Oh.”

He grips the back of your knees, tugging you to the edge of the bed, pushing your knees up. You're spread open in front of him, the damp spot on your panties only getting bigger as he stares down at the only barrier left between you. 

“You could take a picture.” You say as he stands there, frozen. “Something to remember me by.”

“Little shit.” He says under his breath, his hands sliding up your inner thighs until they reach your hips. 

His fingers curl under the waistband of the lacy black fabric, slowly dragging them down over your ass and then down your legs. He tosses the fabric behind him before parting your legs again. He's shamelessly staring at your glistening pussy, bare and spread open for him. 

A moment passes as he stands there frozen, and for a second you wonder if he's ever seen a pussy before, much less a naked woman. Obviously he has, based on what happened earlier. He’s experienced, and you try not to let the thought bother you, jealousy rising at the thought of his hands on another woman. Did she get to see his face? How vulnerable was he with her. 

You bring your attention back to Simon as he stands there frozen. “You okay?” You ask, pushing yourself up onto your elbows. 

He nods, eyes still glued to your pussy. 

You sink your teeth into your lip as you stare up at his mask-covered face. “Why don't you show me what you did in the gym earlier.” You suggest, finally getting him to react.

His eyes flash up to your face, his grip on your legs loosening. He stares at you for a second before letting them go completely. “Wait here.” He disappears into the bathroom for a moment before he comes out carrying a towel. 

He lays it on the floor beside the bed, looking between you and the towel for a moment before nodding in approval. You watch him as he grabs a pillow, slipping it behind you to prop you up before sinking onto the mattress next to you. He pulls one of your legs over his lap, and you hook an arm around the other one, getting the idea. 

Your eyes are glued to his hand as he drags it across your stomach, letting his blunt nails scrape across your skin. You shiver in response, goosebumps covering your skin again. His hand slips through your folds, gathering some of your slick on his fingers before he returns to your clit, circling it like he had earlier. You let out a sigh, relaxing back against the pillow as he teases the sensitive bud. 

Simon leans closer to you, pressing gentle kisses to your jaw. “Fucking beautiful omega.” He praises you, his teeth scraping your skin gently. “Been working me up for weeks, laying in here listening to you fuck the others, those sweet little sounds coming from you.” He groans into your skin, his fingers applying more pressure to your clit. “Had me in here wanking like some needy teenager, imagining it was me making you scream like that, like it was your hand on my cock.” 

His words make you shiver. You know he’s heard you, it was impossible not to, but you had always pictured him with ear plugs in or headphones on, trying to drown out the noise. Or maybe he always chose those moments to shower, trying to drown you out with the water. 

You hadn't considered that he'd be in here masturbating to the sound of you being fucked by the others. You certainly wouldn’t have guessed it was you he was jerking off to. You would have assumed his focus was on the others and the sounds of their pleasure. Your pussy clenches at the mental image of him in bed, fisting his cock, trying not to cum until you do. He knows what you sound like when you cum, he'd have figured that out quickly. He'd use that knowledge, edging himself until you came so he could cum with you. 

“Fuck...” You moan, slick dribbling out of you at the thoughts flashing through your mind. 

“Nearly blacked out when you let Johnny fuck you from behind the first time.” He groans, circling your clit faster. “Imagining you bent over his bed, split open around his cock,” He shakes his head. “Wanted to be in there, bend him over you and fuck him into you, get both of you desperate and needy, begging me for release.”

Your head tilts back, your legs shaking as his words nearly send you over the edge. The mental images are almost too much, the possibilities now that you've opened this door. 

You whine as his hand leaves your clit, his fingers closing around your jaw and pulling your head back up. “Keep your head up.” He says. “Want you to watch.”

You whimper as he returns to your pussy, dragging his fingers down your slit before pressing two into your slick hole. They slide in easier than they did this morning, your body opening to him in anticipation. He thrusts his fingers slowly, teasing you as he continues to work you up. 

“Wanna fuck you so full of cum you're almost bursting then let Kyle eat it out of you. Might let him fuck you after just to see the two prettiest members of the pack together.” He continues. 

You squeeze around his fingers, a loud moan leaving your lips. You could cum from his words alone and the mental images flashing through your mind. All the possibilities, all the opportunities that are now in front of you. 

He curls his fingers, finding that spongy spot again. You know what's coming, the anticipation building in your stomach as he begins to thrust his fingers against that spot. 

“Want Price to bend you over my desk, watch as he fucks you until you're a crying mess, and then it will be my turn.” He growls, pounding his fingers against that spot. “Make you forget your name, forget how to do anything but whine in pleasure.

You desperately keep your eyes on his hand as that overwhelming pressure begins in your stomach again, your moans getting sharper and sharper the more it builds. Your hips jerk uncontrollably as you nearly black out again, fluid squirting from you and into the air. Simon's fingers are forced out of you from the intensity of the orgasm, but he's not done as he begins frantically rubbing at your clit. Another orgasm is forced out of you from the hypersensitivity as you squirt again, soaking your pussy and the side of the bed. 

You let your head fall back as you gasp for air, your body shuddering uncontrollably in the aftershocks of such an intense orgasm. Simon leans down, kissing you like he wants to devour you as he slips his fingers back inside your spasming pussy. It’s almost painful, the sensations too much as he stretches you open again. 

“One more.” He groans against your lips as he starts bullying that spot inside you with his fingers again. “Give me one more.”

“Simon,” you grip the front of his shirt, the feeling almost too much as it builds faster this time. “Simon!” You let out a high pitched shriek, squirting again all over his hand and the floor. 

“That's it.” He groans, finally relenting as his wet hand comes to rest on your clenching stomach. 

Tears blur your vision as you lay there shaking, nearly having an out of body experience from the pleasure. It's painful, but not in a bad way. 

His hand slides up your body until he's gripping your jaw, turning your face to his. He kisses you roughly, forcing his tongue past your lips as he holds you there, your release dripping from your pussy onto the sheets. His kiss is all tongue and teeth, bordering on the animalistic violence that had almost taken over you both two days ago. It had thrilled and terrified you, how easily both of you got lost in the moment. 

You hadn't even been naked then. 

You don't ponder on it long as he pulls away from you delivering a slap to your pussy before he stands, watching the way you jerk from the sharp sting on the sensitive skin. You nearly cum from it, pussy clenching from how sensitive you are. 

He reaches into the top drawer of his nightstand, pulling out a bottle. He moves to stand between your legs again, letting them fall to the sides for a moment. You're limp as you stare up at him, not sure you could move your body at all if you had to. You're beginning to understand why he was so worried.

He palms at the very prominent bulge in his briefs, an excited thrill running through you as he slips his hands under the waistband, slowly sliding it lower and lower. You lick your lips as more skin is revealed to you, a trail of light hair leading to the thick shaft of his cock. It keeps going and going as he lowers his briefs, thick and long and an angry red color as the fabric finally drops out of sight. 

“Fuck...” You breathe as you stare at it, looking big even in his large hand. 

He moves closer, lifting your legs from where they're hanging over the side of the bed, pushing them up as close to your chest as they can get, essentially folding you in half. His cock drags through your folds, the head catching on your clit. It makes you twitch with every pass of his hips, your lips parting in anticipation. You could cum like this, your pussy still oversensitive from your three orgasms already. Four, if you count the one in the gym earlier. 

“You said you could take it.” He teases, his hands keeping your legs pressed back. 

You nod. “Uh huh.”

“Having second thoughts?” He smirks. 

You're not sure if it's your ego or your pride or just sheer determination that has you shaking your head. “Nope.” 

His smirk widens as he reaches for the bottle, popping the cap before squirting some lube on his cock and onto your hole. He tosses the bottle back onto the bed before rubbing the lube on his cock, dragging the head through your slick folds, spreading the cold lube against the heated skin. “Good girl.”

You shiver from the praise, your breath catching in your throat as he begins to press into you. The burning stretch is almost too much for your oversensitive walls despite the preparation he had given you. His fingers were nothing compared to his cock, and for a moment you regret not fucking one of the others in the two weeks he was gone. 

Your breaths are coming in high pitched gasps, broken by moans as he sinks into you, your legs shaking and he hasn't even fucked you yet. You could cum just like this, just from the stretch. You can feel all of him, every inch of his length, every inch of his circumference as your pussy gapes around him. 

“Wait,” You grip his wrists, his movements pausing. “Fuck, gimme a second.” 

His eyes are on you as you lay there, trying to relax around him, fighting desperately not to cum like this. He might as well be in your guts, and you're beginning to think you had been right in asking him to rearrange them for you. You lift your head, staring down between your legs. A low groan of astonishment leaves your lips. He's only halfway in. 

You let out a keening moan before you nod. “Okay, okay. Keep going.” 

If his cock is this big, you can't even imagine taking his knot. 

He sinks even deeper, moving slowly as he watches your face. Your eyes are on the ceiling, the stretch seeming almost endless as it keeps going and going. 

Finally he's seated inside you, practically snuggled up against your cervix, or at least that's what it feels like. You could cum just like this, laying here with your knees by your ears, stuffed full of Simon's cock. He wouldn’t even have to move, just stand there as you flutter around him, soaking his cock with your release. 

“Fucking hell.” He groans as you squeeze around him, his eyes closing as he takes a deep breath in. 

“Can't help it,” You moan, squeezing around him again. “So big.” 

He lets out a low groan, his hips twitching. “Tell me I can move. Let me fuck you.”

You're half tempted to stay silent, to lay here and see how long he lasts, how long he'll let you hold control before he takes over. A battle of wills, just as everything seems to become between you. Alpha versus omega, instinct versus instinct, willpower versus willpower. Just like every battle, though, you find yourself bowing, giving in, unable to fight the power he holds over you. It’s for a different reason this time, though, your desperation and neediness is just as strong as his. You’ve both been waiting for this, neglecting yourselves for far too long. 

“Fuck me, Simon.” You breathe, fingers gripping the sheets for dear life. “Fuck me till I can't remember anything but your name.” 

He lets out a low growl as he pulls back, drawing his cock out halfway before snapping his hips forward until they slap against yours. You yelp as your body rocks from the force of his thrust, not expecting it. He pulls his hips back slowly again before he repeats the motion, practically slamming into you. It hurts, stealing your breath away, but it leaves you feeling almost electric, pleasure bubbling under your skin.  

Slowly his thrusts get shorter, but they lose none of their force as he fucks into you roughly. You're creating quite the cacophony of sounds from skin slapping skin and the obscene squelch of your pussy to your high pitched keening moans and his deep growls. His eyes are glued to your face, watching the pleasure glaze over your eyes as you stare at the bulge in your stomach from his cock. 

He moves the pillow out from behind you, pushing you flat on your back as he folds his body over yours. He releases your legs, letting them drape over his shoulders as he continues to pound into you. There's a wild look in his eyes, your omega beginning to stir as your brain registers the shifting scents, the heavy musk in the room. 

Sweat has slicked your skin and Simon's, mixing where your skin is pressed together. He turns his head, licking the skin of your thigh, tasting the salty sweat. Your mouth feels dry as you stare up at him, wanting to sink your teeth into him and chew on him. You want to make him bleed, have him howling in pain as he stuffs you so full you'll be leaking for a week. 

You grip his forearms, your nails digging into his skin, making him hiss out a curse. A wild look flashes behind his eyes as he sinks his teeth into your thigh, clamping down as you continue to dig your nails into his arms, neither of you relenting. He shifts his hips just slightly, hitting a different angle that has you releasing his arms as pleasure wracks through you. He releases your thigh with a satisfied grin, fucking into at the new angle like a wild animal. 

Your body shudders, your moans muffling as he presses two of his fingers into your mouth again, pushing on your tongue. You choke around them, fighting every urge to sink your teeth into his skin until he releases you or you taste blood. 

“That’s it.” He grunts as you whimper desperately around his fingers. “You can take it.” 

Drool seeps out from around his fingers as he fucks you until you’re almost cross-eyed, your pussy spasming around him as every thrust brings you closer and closer to the edge. 

You can’t stop it as you sink your teeth into his fingers, your legs squeezing together as your body seizes, your release gushing around his cock as you cum. Your eyes roll back, blood on your tongue as he wrenches his fingers from your mouth. Your head tilts back, back arching as he doesn’t stop, undeterred by your orgasm. 

“Fucking hell.” He grunts, the clenching of your pussy almost painful as he continues to fuck you. “Fucking tight around me.” 

“Please, please, Simon!” You whine, the only two words you can pull from your brain, and even they begin to mesh together into mindless babble as you grip his sheets, nearly pulling them off the edges of the mattress. 

Tears leak from your eyes as he fucks into you so hard the frame shakes, knocking into the wall. He leans his head down, his teeth sinking into the skin over your collarbone until you bleed. Droplets of blood mix with the sweat dripping down your chest, Simon’s eyes following them as they disappear between your breasts. 

“Gonna cum for me again?” He growls, blood staining his lips red. He looks like a ghoul, wild eyed and bloody mouthed, feasting on your flesh. An incubus sucking the life out of you as he brings you endless pleasure. 

“Simon!” You squeal, eyes squeezing closed as you’re thrown into another orgasm, your legs shaking uncontrollably as you clench around him, almost as if your body is trying to suck his cock in deeper. 

He continues to fuck you, every curse word known to man spilling from his lips as you tighten around him, dragging his own orgasm from him. He slams his hips into yours, letting out a feral growl as he spills into you. Warmth fills your belly as he spurts his hot cum into you, filling you up. Your legs are shaking where they’re tossed over his shoulders, clenching around his neck. His skin is flushed red from the bottom of his mask to the collar of his shirt. 

You can’t move as you lay there, shaking in the aftershocks of your orgasm. You want to take a break, tap out, ask for five minutes and a glass of water, but from the look in Simon’s eyes you know it’s not over yet. There’s no taking a break, not that he’s gotten a taste of your pussy. 

He releases your legs, letting them drop off the side of the bed. He pulls away long enough to flip you over, bending you over the side of the bed. You whine as he presses his cock back into you, ignoring the squeeze of your sensitive walls as he splits you open around him again. He bends over you, pressing his chest to your back as his hips press flush to your ass. 

“Simon.” You whine, your hands gripping the sheets as his hand snakes around you, wrapping around your throat.

He growls low and dangerous, the sound vibrating through his chest and into your back. You squeeze around him, a chill running through you, your instincts telling you to run or roll over in submission to him. Your omega claws at your mind, desperate to meet him toe to toe, one for one. You begin to push your hips back into him, fucking yourself on his cock as his teeth sink into the skin on the back of your shoulder. The tables have turned, the control has shifted. 

He’s not Simon anymore. 

Your lips part in a gasp as he thrusts into you, meeting your own movements on his cock, reminding you who’s in charge, who holds the reigns in this position. The word comes tumbling from your lips, brainlessly and unconsciously, no thoughts there to stop it, your hands too busy clinging to the sheets for dear life to even prevent it from slipping out. 

“Alpha!” 

Taglist:

@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @protokosmonaut

@fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @thatonepupkai @redwites

@kattiieee @141trash @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos

@konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @smile-child-13

@anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry

@red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @linaangel @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving

@slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @ttsbaby01

@heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10 @cassiecasluciluce @darling006

@sheep-from-rad @ohgodthebogisback @willow-sages @scythemood @daniblogs164

@mirzamsaiph @xlxnq @chickennn-soupp

[atticrissfinch]

Father's Day | (joel miller x reader) (18+)

A Meet Me in the Back Oneshot

pairing: sleazy gas station clerk!joel miller x fem!reader summary: Father's Day isn't your favorite day. Joel tries to make up for that. warnings/tags: [18+ MINORS DNI] age gap (no specifics), daddy!kink, praise!kink, ass-eating (f receiving), fingering, a lot of fucking angst and fluff, kind of hurt/comforty ig, reader wears joel's boxers, a lot of Complicated Father Feelings on both sides for these knuckleheads, idk where this came from word count: ~2.1K | ao3 a/n: this came out of NOWHERE but suddenly i really wanted to write a little something for Father's Day. This takes place on their first Father's Day together, so a few months post-part 6. Am I writing this to heal some of my own feelings about this holiday? who's to say, really. but i hope you enjoy this little surprise <3 Un-beta'd and barely proofread so I'm sorry if there are glaring mistakes. I just wanted to get this out on Father's Day :)

Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Kofi

“Bit of a weird day for you, I take it?”

You blink out of your zoned-out state, some guy with poofy hair waxing poetic about the Easter Island heads being planted by aliens on Joel’s television (“His name is Giorgio A. Tsoukalos, baby.” “You couldn’t spell that if your life fucking depended on it, Joel. Don’t act like it’s a crime that I don’t remember his name.”).

“Hmm?”

“Today. Father’s Day. Bit of a weird day?” He asks again, pulling one of your bent legs into his lap to stroke his thumb along your thigh.

“Oh,” you say, your mind still drifting back from elsewhere. “Yeah. A bit.”

Joel nods in your peripheral, bending down to place a kiss on the hinge of your knee.

“‘Bit’ might be an understatement, actually.”

Because it is. It’s very difficult to describe your feelings about your father. Even more difficult now that he’s dead, been dead for years. He provided a home for you, bought you the necessities to live, ensured that you never went hungry or thirsty or cold. But he gifted you little else, other than crippling emotional insecurity and an inability to recognize your own achievements as good enough. It’s a bizarre cognitive dissonance that you’ve yet to fully process in your years since he’s been gone.

So, yes. Father’s Day is a bit weird for you.

“You wanna talk about it?”

You worry your bottom lip and start to move your leg out of his lap. “Not particularly.”

“Hey,” he objects, clinging to the back of your knee and hauling it back, “that’s alright with me, little sugarplum. We don’t gotta talk about that fucker if you don’t want. Lord knows I don’t wanna talk about mine.”

And he doesn’t, as far as you’ve noticed. You know barely anything about Joel’s own father. Just that he never talks about him, and he gushes about his mother in contrast. You have some creeping suspicions about his father. The way he was. You have reason to believe that he was significantly worse than your own. But he’s refused to let that get in the way of how he behaves.

Joel has a lot of sides to him, you’ve come to discover. None of them terribly violent, but a very do no harm, but take no shit type of vibe follows him around. You’ve found that other men are not eager to fuck with him. He has this undercurrent of threatening energy when another man starts to act up around a woman. You remember how he was around Nate.

Don’t remember askin’ you a goddamn thing, son.

Those pieces put together lead you to believe that his father was not the most respectful of his mother. Or kind to her at all. He’s never said as much, but you’re pretty good with context clues. You don’t think you’d ever ask, not unless he offered. But you maintain your sensitivity about the subject. He can tell you in time if that’s what he wants.

There’s a sort of comfort in him clinging to your leg, clinging to you in the manner he just did. On any other day, you might not think anything of it. Just Joel, being horny, being himself, wanting to touch you.

But today…today it feels an awful lot like “I want you” and “You’re good enough” and “I’m not leaving”.

A lot like “I’ll be the daddy yours never was”.

You feel a tightness in your throat, a stinging behind your eyes as you study his grip on your leg, his thumb pressing into the flesh, stroking along your skin .

“I want you.”

Stroke.

“You’re good enough.”

Stroke.

“I’m not leaving.”

Stroke.

You mutter, your voice thick, “Daddy?”

A crease indents between his brows as his free hand comes to cup your cheek. “What, baby?”

“I’m…I’m good, right?”

Slight confusion crosses his face. “Baby, I don’t…what do you mean? Good?”

Tears prick at your waterline as you say, “Like I’m good. I’m a good girl.”

“Oh, sugarplum,” Joel breathes, shifting onto his knees to straddle your hips and hover over you as he takes your face, framing it in his hands. “You are the goodest fuckin’ girl I ever met. Beautiful-est, sexiest, most perfect girl.”

You blink and a tear breaches containment down your cheek. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. ‘Fact I think the worst thing you’ve ever done is shack up with this ol’ bag o’bones,” Joel jokes, the corner of his mouth quirking up slightly.

“I don’t,” you say quietly, lifting your fingers to drag through his beard, and Joel’s eyes flutter closed at the contact. “I think you’re one of the best things that’s ever happened to me. You make me feel so fucking good. All the time.”

Joel sighs, pivoting his head to the side to kiss your palm and mumble into it, “Man ain’t a man unless he’s makin’ a woman feel good. Don’t matter the kinda woman. If you’re hurtin’ her in a way that don’t feel good to her, you ain’t a man.”

You run your fingers through his hair and dip your fingers under the dangling hem of his shirt, sliding through the delicate wires adorning his rounded belly. “I like how you hurt me, daddy.”

You can see his cock stiffening in his pants, pressing against the seam, and you had already been wet since he positioned himself above you.

“I know you do, darlin’ girl. You like that daddy hurts you real good, huh?”

“Yeah,” you exhale as Joel’s hand creeps between your legs, rubbing circles into your clit through his boxer briefs you had stolen to lounge in.

“Do somethin’ for me, babygirl,” he requests, observing your face as your eyelids dance and your hips surge toward him.

“Anything,” you whisper, bucking into his hand.

He sinks down to press his lips to your ear, his hot breath sending a shiver down your spine. “I want you to forget all about that fucker who called himself your father and didn’t deserve it. You’ve got a new daddy now, don’t ya? And he knows exactly how to treat ya.”

You gasp as two of his fingers slip inside the fly of his boxers, touching your pussy skin-on-skin for the first time since this wretched day began. And it feels healing.

“Yes, daddy,” you pant, rolling your hips into his fingers as they deftly work your clit under them. You can already hear yourself sopping and wet beneath his movements, slipping between your lips and massaging you torturously as you whine.

“This day ain’t for him anymore, babygirl. Not today, not any year after. Who’s it for now?”

You breath hitches on a moan as a finger teases at your entrance, presses inside. “For you, daddy,” you reply, gasping as his thick finger glides inside your slick heat.

“That’s right,” he rasps, fitting his second finger in along with the first and rubbing at your clit with his thumb through the soaked material of his boxers. “Good girls like you who have daddies that care about them, you know what they get?”

You feel yourself barreling embarrassingly quick to your orgasm, but it’s really more of a testament to how well Joel knows your body and your pleasure at this point in your journey together. He tears you apart like wet tissue paper in his hands, like it takes a single brain cell to send you spiraling. And aren’t you blessed that he has at least one to spare.

“Wh-what do they get, daddy?” You manage to moan out, preparing yourself for whatever filth he has prepared to gift you with that will send you floating through space once it leaves his lips.

Joel captures your mouth with his in a sloppy kiss that has you gasping as you edge closer to your climax, then growls against your lips, “Good little girls with caring daddies on Father’s Day get their tiny, wet little slits fucked until they cry. Don’t they?”

Your mouth falls open in a loud, shameless moan as your hips jut forward, pressing into his hand as you feel your cunt pulse against him in powerful waves, your face flooding with heat as he fucks you through it with his fingers, groaning against your mouth as you come for him for what is likely the millionth time since the first. And yet it still rocks through your body like lightning, leaving you boneless and fried at your ends.

Your chest pounds as Joel pulls soaked fingers from your borrowed underwear and shoves them in his own mouth, sucking off the flavor of your pleasure at his hand with a passionate moan.

“Not fuckin’ enough,” Joel grunts, gripping the band of the boxers and jerking them down your hips, tossing them over the back of the couch and situating himself onto his stomach as he spreads your shaking legs wide in front of his eager mouth.

“Daddy, I’m—” you squeak out, your clit still throbbing and sensitive with your first orgasm as he breathes over it hotly.

“It’s Father’s Day, baby,” he admonishes, gazing up at you from between your thighs, “The least you can do is let me stick somethin’ in the pair of socks you got me. Come inside them like a horny teenager alone in his bedroom,” he teases, licking a long stripe from your asshole to your pussy, flicking at your clit.

“Jesus Christ,” you sigh, but you dig your fingers into his hair regardless. “You can come inside one sock. This sock,” you clarify, slipping two of your fingers inside your cunt.

Joel is quiet for a second, something clearly unusual for him, and you lift your head to glance down. And you see a man mesmerized by the motion of your own fingers fucking into yourself, his lips parted and eyes glazed over in lust.

“Fuck me. Keep doin’ that,” he mutters, settling his chin onto the cushion of the couch and spreading your asscheeks to mouth hungrily at your asshole.

“Fuck, daddy,” you whine, tugging at his hair as you fuck yourself with your fingers, thumb finding your clit in tandem.

Joel groans, face buried in your ass as you feel the sharpened tip of his tongue pushing past the tight ring. Heat burns in your stomach at the sensation, something that he doesn’t do often, and you think it’s because he knows it feels too fucking good to indulge all the time.

But he eats at you ravenously, plunging his tongue inside you in staggered tempo with your fingers in your cunt, and another orgasm is building just as swiftly as the first. The bite of his fingernails into the meat of your ass has you keening with overwhelm, so many parts of you being stimulated simultaneously, and it sends you crashing hard. Your clit beats wildly against the pads of your fingers, your cunt squeezing around your fingers, and your asshole contracting on Joel’s tongue as the rush of pleasure floods your body again. Joel’s moans vibrate against the delicate puckered skin, sending shockwaves pulsing through you as you attempt to come down.

Joel emerges from your other hole and bites kisses into the softness of your cheeks, sucking and dragging his tongue along the broken skin that nobody will see but him.

“Fuck,” you gasp, heart pounding in your chest and fingers still wound in his hair. You pull wet fingers from your pussy and brush them over his damp forehead, knowing full well that he doesn’t mind the mess.

“So fuckin’ good for me,” he rumbles against the back of your thigh, continuing a trail of kisses until he’s up your stomach, over your tits, and back at your mouth. And maybe you shouldn’t be kissing him when he just got done tongue-fucking your asshole, but you can’t bring yourself to give a shit when it comes to this man.

His hands glide up the backs of your thighs, reaffirming the spread of them as he tucks them into the hinges at the backs of your knees, his violently hard cock, newly freed of its confines, knocking and dragging at the tired seam of your cunt.

“You heard what daddy said about fucking your slit ‘til you cry?” Joel asks, snagging your bottom lip between his teeth and letting it fall back in place with a wet slap.

You gaze back up at him and nod with a whimper.

“That what you want me to do?”

You nod again. “Yes, please, daddy.”

“Alright then,” Joel says in a low rumble, taking his cock in his grip and lining himself up with your opening as he strokes your warm cheek with his other, “Then Father’s Day ain’t even close to finished yet. And seems like I got buncha shitty ones to make up for. So you better buckle in, my sweet little sugarplum. Daddy’s got a score to settle.”

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[princessbrunette]

If kook!reader ask pogue!rafe to come with her to midsummer would he go?

𐙚₊˚🎀⊹♡🧁˚₊‧

yes but not without rejecting you one million times. it’s not because he doesn’t wanna hang with you particularly. he’s already fucked you a few times by this point and he’s starting to get a little too attached to the point it makes him mad. it’s because he knows he’ll stick out like a sore thumb. you’re a kook, and you’re just about tolerable — so he would rather not spend the evening cosplaying as wealthy and talking to people he knew looked down on him. it challenged his dignity.

but then you’re looking up at him, that fucking baby bunny rabbit lost puppy needy kitty look with the big eyes and pouty lips and twitching nose, tilting your head and lowering your voice — asking him if you’d done something wrong, as if you couldn’t fathom why a pogue like him wouldn’t wanna be paraded around midsummers.

“there was a god damn storm a few days ago, m’up to my neck in repairs for the same assholes who’re gonna be there ‘cos they can’t do shit for themselves. you really think i wanna spend the night in a fuckin’ rent-a-tux gettin’ talked down on? nah, sorry. no. take one of your other little friends.” he dismisses you, throwing the rag over his shoulder beneath the blistering sun on his work-site where you’d come to visit him, wearing your prettiest sundress in hopes to have buttered him up.

“rafe! s’not like that. the vibes are like, really good there so everyone’s gonna be nice! and drunk! they had this really good champagne last year and it’s all free, don’t you wanna try it rafe? you don’t have to talk to anyone but me!” you beg, all whiny and fuckable so he’s walking away to his station, hoping you get the hint and leave him alone. as usual, you don’t.

“answers no, kid. go home.” he drawls but you tug on his arm until he turns, forcing your body up against his making some other builders wolf whistle in the distance. “y’know you’re on some real thin ice, okay?”

“i’ll let you put in in my butt?” you pout and he frowns, eyes darting around.

“you— what?”

“c’mon rafe, anything you want. don’t make me go there alone. s’embarrassing.”

“so don’t go alone. already told you, take one of your kook friends, know you got plenty of those who i’m sure are dyin’ to hang off your arm the whole night.”

his lack of care over you seeing other people stings, and you blink up at him, all hurt and scorn.

“fine. i’ll ask jj, i think he’s gonna be there anyway, working and stuff. maybe i can pull some strings and get him to be my date inste—”

“jesus chr— alright… fuck. i’ll come. but if i hate it i’m leaving…yeah?” he forcefully detaches your arms from him and bends at the waist to stare into your eyes, making sure you got the message. you seem happy enough, nodding and shooting forward quickly enough to peck him on the lips. he stands up straight with an exasperated eye roll. “and what’d i tell you about the PDA shit whilst i’m at work?” he scolds, but he doesn’t really care that much, he’d even go as far as to say you looked pretty adorable, skipping off happily.

“yeah, yeah — i’ll text you the details!” you squeal, disappearing away from his workplace. you were gonna be the death of him.

𐙚₊˚🎀⊹♡🧁˚₊‧

[theemporium]

Can I get a blues lagoon #8 with Nico Hischier please??? And congrats on 10k!!! 🎉

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

8. "Are you hurt?"

warnings: harassment

.

It all happened so fast.

One minute you were dancing with your friends, laughing and singing and celebrating what had been an amazing game for the Devils, locking their position in the playoffs. The 8-1 win against the Rangers was sweet and satisfying and just made the cinched position so much better. The bar was full of fans and Devils team members alike, the drinks flowing and the good vibes thriving. 

It was somewhere in the middle of an ABBA song when you gestured to the bar, needing a quick drink before continuing on with the night. You were already pretty far gone, a good few rounds of shots deep, along with whatever fruity drinks Jack had convinced you to try with him. Truthfully, all you wanted was a glass of water before returning to the others.

You didn’t even clock on what was happening as you squeezed into a free spot at the bar, too focused on trying to catch the eye of the bartender to even process the man beside you was yelling at you. 

Turns out alcohol and a bitter Rangers fan was not a good combination with the proud Devils merch you had been sporting through the night. 

You felt a hand gripping your arm tight enough that it would bruise. You felt the bitter fan’s warm breath on your cheek, reeking of whatever cheap beer the man had been nursing through the night. You felt yourself being shoved against the bar, the edge of the table digging into your back as you tried to squirm away from him. 

And then, in a blink, it was gone. 

You couldn’t see the man anymore, not with a handful of bodies getting in between you. If you were a little more coherent and a little less shaken up, you would have recognised the people as your boys—as the Devil boys. 

You would have recognised the main person getting in the man’s face to be your boyfriend. 

“Hisch!” 

“What?” 

“She needs you. We got this loser.”

And in another blink, Nico was suddenly in front of you. All big and broad and blocking you away from the chaos, blocking you away from the rest of the world until it was just you two. 

“Can I touch you?” His voice was so sweet, so comforting. 

You nodded. 

His touch was soft and light, like he was ready to pull his hands back the second you showed any sign of discomfort. But that was the last thing you wanted from him. Instead, you practically threw yourself against his chest, relieved to feel the pressure of his arms winding around you and holding you close. 

“Are you hurt?” He asked, his voice laced with something colder and a little more dangerous. It wasn’t a side you saw often, mostly because it was difficult for pure anger to overtake Nico. But you hear it now. You knew that in seconds, he would turn that anger to the man that had grabbed you. 

You shook your head. 

��You’re not lying to me, right?” 

“I promise,” you murmured, your voice a little uneven. “Just a little shaken up.” 

“Let’s go home, yeah?” 

You nodded. 

“I’ve got you, baby, promise. Not gonna let anything happen to you,” he murmured, his lips pressing a lingering kiss to the top of your head before he guided you both out the bar, not once letting you go.

.

[baronessvonglitter]

Halftime Show

Joel Miller, Javier Pena, Dave York, Frankie Morales, Marcus Moreno x f!sexworker!reader (lucky girl)

Word count: 2,779

Summary: you're an escort hired for a private Super Bowl party hosted by a mysterious client and his four friends

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, reader's work name is "Angel", reader is a sex worker, mildly dubious consent (though she does state that the men can do as they want, it's her first experience in sex work), rough sex (but no violence done to reader), group sex, threesome to sixsome, oral sex (f & m receiving), unprotected p in v sex, double p in v, anal sex & fingering, multiple penetration, hand jobs, face fucking, facial, verbal abuse/humiliation, squirting, swallowing, creampie, spitroasting, reader gets slapped w/a dick for a bit, porn without plot, you know.. all the sweet stuff.

Author's Note: another cross-post from AO3 but honestly, football is barely mentioned so if you want you can ignore the whole Super Bowl aspect. Y'all might know by now I love a little romance in my smut but this particular fic has zero romance. Reader is there to do a job and leaves having done it very well. Also.. I'm considering creating a part 2 featuring more Pedro Boys, so any input on that is welcome!

It's your first day as an escort and you're a little nervous. Okay, a lot nervous. You never know what you're going to expect from clients, but these guys you're about to meet have been pre-screened and even had to turn in blood tests just to be considered as clients. The escort service you work for is very prestigious. You're even driven to the location by a security detail who is tasked to wait outside for you. This makes you feel a little better.

You take a quick look at your outfit before you leave the car. The rule is you show up in character and leave in character. No real names, no background stories, just a persona and an exchange of goods. Simple as that. Should be easy enough.

Taking a deep breath, you exit the car and go up to the front door.

* * *

The doorbell rings, and Dave York springs from the sofa, a little smirk on his lips. "Guys, I think she's here," he announces, and the rest of the group look up from the Super Bowl game, groaning when Dave mutes the sound even though it's just gone to commercial.

"Who?" Frankie Morales asks, swigging a beer.

"The halftime entertainment," Dave answers mysteriously.

Marcus Moreno and Joel Miller trade inquisitive glances. Javier Peña raises his brow. He knows what Dave means.

Dave brings you into the living room and you take a quick survey of your surroundings: the home is nicer than most, two stories, decorated tastefully but with an obvious woman's touch. You give him a once-over. He's forty-ish, handsome, clean-shaven.

"The wife got the house in the divorce," Dave tells you, as if reading your mind. "This is my last weekend here, so let's make it count!" He raises his glass of whiskey to the guys, most of whom also salute with their drinks. They are all eyeing you like a pack of dogs that haven't eaten in days.

Marcus, a kind-looking man with dark eyeglasses who gives you Clark Kent vibes, smiles awkwardly at you, blushing. "Aren't you going to introduce us?" he asks Dave politely.

"Angel," you give your working name, smiling at each of the men. They're all cute: some scruffy, some dapper.

Dave smirks. "I'm Dave, and these are my buddies Marcus, Frankie, Joel, and Javier." Each of the guys smiles or nods at you as they're introduced.

"I heard you guys are looking to get wild," you say, opening your winter coat to reveal your see-through lingerie. Joel, Javier, and Dave whoop in excitement. Marcus and Frankie are more reticent but can't take their eyes off you. "What do you plan on doing with little ol' me?" you ask innocently, kneeling on the cushioned ottoman in the middle of the living room. You glide your hands over your body and smile as the men shift in their seats, watching you, getting hard already at the idea of you offering yourself.

Dave is the first to put his hands on you, first on your hips then grabbing your ass. Joel, an older man with graying hair and green flannel shirt, interrupts him, rising from his seat. "Now, who told you you get to go first?" he asks in a deep voiced Texan accent.

"First? We're running a train on this girl?" Javier asks from his seat, a cigarette burning between his lips. He's dressed like someone from the 1970s but his clothes fit him well, accentuating a lean physique.

"You can do whatever you want with me," you tell them with confidence. "But of course, no hitting, no biting, no leaving marks." You are resolute on this, as is your employer.

"Hell, darlin', we're not monsters," Joel says, his eyes full of concern for you. The others chime in that they aren't into really rough stuff. Only Dave looks a little disappointed by your rule.

"I'd expect you to be more methodical about this," Javier tells Dave, rising from his seat and casting an amused glance at his friend. He eyes you up and down then reaches into your bra to cup your breast while his other hand dives between your thighs. "Christ, she's already wet. And so fucking tight. You haven't been doing this kind of work long, have you, baby?"

"You all are my first clients," you admit, your breath hitching as his thick fingers tease you.

Javier manages a small smile then looks over at the group. "You haven't thought about these guys," he tells Dave, and nods at Frankie and Marcus. "They're completely baffled by this."

"We're not, I know exactly what's going on," insists Frankie, an adorable middle-aged guy wearing a t-shirt, cargo pants and baseball cap. His innocence is palpable and quite touching.

Dave and Javier's hands are still on you, grabbing and groping. It's a good start. "I'm paying for her. I should get to go first," Dave complains.

A few of the guys (well, okay, Javier and Dave) start to bicker about it, fueled by testosterone and alcohol. Joel strides up to you, effectively taking you away from Dave and Javier. "It's kind of a shame that no one's puttin' her feelings into consideration. She's gonna be providin' a huge service for us. Least we can do is give her a little pleasure beforehand." With that, he takes you and places you on the ottoman, kneeling between your open thighs. He rips open the crotch of your lingerie and dives in, sucking on your pussy. Your initial shock gives way to thrill as you register the warm, wet stiffness of his tongue rasping your folds, your clit, not taking his time about it. Your fingers curl into his hair as you lift your thighs back. You're still on the clock, still giving a show, even if this part is currently for your benefit. With Joel's aid you manage to take the now-ruined lingerie off and are naked but for your knee-high stockings.

"Way to get the party started," Javier says approvingly. "I'm not about to waste any time." He goes to you and sits you up. You take a moment to admire the bulge in those tight trousers before he pulls them down enough to take out his thick shaft. You obediently open your mouth to accept it and he slowly moves into your throat, allowing you to get used to him. Saliva pools in your mouth as you start to moan around his dick, still exhilarated by Joel's ravishing you with his tongue. You feel a hand massaging your breast and look over to see Frankie, his puppy dog eyes wide with wonder, as if he can't believe you're real.

"That feels so good," you tell him, sensing he likes praise. He lights up, encouraged by you, and continues to pinch and pull at your nipple before sucking on it, extracting a pleasured moan from your lips before you go back to sucking off Javier.

Marcus and Dave stand back. Marcus looks flustered and Dave has his hands on his hips, making a face. He's figuring out where to squeeze in but at the same time doesn't want to share.

Meanwhile you're keeping busy with Javier's cock in your mouth, Frankie's mouth on your breast, and Joel still lapping at you between your thighs. The most exquisite feelings comes over you and your scream is muffled as you come so hard, your body spasming while surrounded by these men. It's the most sensually charged moment of your entire life.

Joel lifts himself up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "She's wetter'n a cucumber in a convent," he chuckles, standing and trying to get the feeling back in his knees. Frankie then moves down to finger you just as Javier is on the verge of coming. Just as he gives a strangled growl, spilling his cum into your willing throat, you feel one of Frankie's fingers in your ass. You gasp and clench around him as Dave takes Javier's place. Your body is buzzing with energy, with lust.

"You're gonna earn every penny," Dave growls, thrusting into your mouth as if he hates you. You don't have a gag reflex but you pretend to choke on him, bringing tears to your eyes.

Frankie starts to undo his pants then quickly steps away. "I'm, uh, not ready yet."

"Let her take care of it," Javier says, lighting up another cigarette.

"No smoking in here," Dave warns, his eyes still on the mascara running down your face.

"Fuck you."

You start stroking Frankie, smiling at the plumpness of his cock, uncut. He's gazing down at you with tenderness in his eyes.

"Marcus, you joinin' us?" Joel asks, getting ready to pull down his jeans.

Marcus watches from the adjoining kitchen, his beer growing warm in his hand. "Maybe.. in a bit." He smiles nervously.

Joel shrugs and unzips himself, releasing his thick, veiny cock. It's all you can do not to stare at it in wonder.

"Hey, I was gonna go first," Dave says aggressively.

"You snooze you lose. Aren't we all gonna get a turn?" Joel smirks before aligning himself to your opening. "Such a tiny, perfect little pussy.. you're gonna be completely wrecked when we're done with you, babygirl..."

Your eyes widen when he begins to slide into you, but you're already slick enough to take him. You remove Dave from your mouth so you can watch Joel's cock disappear inch by inch into your cunt.

"Don't forget about me," Dave warns you, tapping his dick against the side of your face. You compliantly return to sucking him off and he grunts contentedly in response. At the same time Joel pushes in to the hilt. "Hell she's taking every inch of me," he groans. "What a good little slut she is.."

"Well shit, don't stretch her out before the rest of us," Dave complains.

"That's not a particular worry of mine," Javier smirks, getting himself ready again as he goes to your free hand, opposite Frankie, who is already hard and ready. Joel is building up a nice tempo, sliding deep inside your pussy, Dave thrusts avidly into your mouth, Frankie and Joel are watching you as you zealously prime them for whatever they want to do next.

"Oh my god!" Frankie's eyes go wide and without warning he comes on your stomach and you make a sound of surprise when you feel the warm stickiness of him on your skin. "I'm sorry," he mumbles.

"Don't be," you tell him with a smile. "Think you've got another one in you?" you wink and scoop his cum into your mouth as Frankie watches in wonder.

Dave seems upset that you keep removing him from your mouth to talk to Frankie, but Frankie looks so happy that you're not grossed out or upset. Dave grabs hold of the back of your head and rams himself in your throat. "Less talking, bitch," he growls.

You would give him a death glare but then you feel Joel speeding up, his thrusts strong, the loud slapping of your flesh fills the air. Before you know it you're throbbing around him, milking him as you feel him finish inside you. He doesn't stay long, and soon Javier takes his place. "Flip over, cariño," he says, moving you on all fours. Dave takes over from the front, Frankie strokes himself while fondling your tit. Javier grabs your ass and slides in, letting you feel every inch of him as you moan around Dave's cock. He cums soon, spraying the back of your throat with his thick white cum.

"Get in there, Frankie!" Javier encourages, pumping away none too gently as he watches your ass ripple with each thrust. "Marcus get over here and do something or you'll miss out!"

Marcus seems frozen to his spot but Frankie follows orders and you open wide to receive him. He looks down at you like you're some kind of miracle, and you make sure to look at him the same way, charmed by his good nature.

Javier leans close to you. "I'm gonna put it in your ass, cariño."

"Do whatever you want," you purr.

He pulls out of you and you feel a warm glob of saliva at your rear entrance. Javier smears it around your puckered hole and eases himself in. You gasp, fists clenching the edge of the ottoman. "Fill all her holes, boys," Dave says, watching from the side. "That's what she's here for."

Frankie pulls away from your mouth. "Let me get under you." he says, and Javier pulls out enough for you two to get positioned. Frankie aligns himself at your entrance and sinks in easily. "Jesus, you feel so good, Angel.." He thrusts up into you as Javier continues to fuck your ass. The three of you are a fusion of lust and frenzy. Joel watches, running his tongue over his lips, still tasting your sweet essence. Dave tells everyone he's next to claim your ass. Marcus has since inched closer, undeciding yet if he's going to join, or how. He's obviously hard, his eyes dark with craving.

"Marcus," you mumble as he approaches your side. "Fuck my mouth," you beg.

He suppresses a gasp but he unbuckles his belt. "I haven't.. in a while.."

"That's okay.." you smile at him, helping him pull down his pants and briefs, running your nails over his solid girth, and he immediately rises to the occasion. "You were shy before, but not now," you notice, and give his cock a couple of gentle tugs before taking him into your waiting mouth, just the tip, and letting him go in as deep as he wants.

Javier speeds up, fingers digging into your hips as all your cries fill the room. He comes, filling your ass as he grunts savagely, causing you in turn to come, clenching around Frankie who buries himself deep inside as he lets go. Once Javier pulls away Dave takes over, gripping your hips and moving you against him.

You finger your lonely pussy, unable to make yourself feel as good as any of these men have. “Oh god, I want all of you at once.. please!” You beg.

Marcus approaches you and lays beneath you as Dave moves away, scoots up so he’s practically standing over you. Joel claims your mouth and Javier lets you pump him with your fist. Frankie approaches from behind and at the same time Marcus enters you from beneath. Two men fuck your cunt, stretching you, ruining you, and all you can do is give them what they want and then ask for more.. one man in your mouth, in your hand, in your ass.. you are working for every penny just as Dave said.

You're practically dazed by the countless feelings of pleasure coming from every man inside you, the way they move, the way they taste, how their hands grope your ass or your breasts, your hips.. you're just a receptacle for them, a plaything. This allows your brain to soak everything in without having to think. Just feeling. None of them really care about your pleasure, not at this point. You're just a means to an end, and you like it. You've never felt more alive.

"God!" you gasp as you feel yet another wave of absolute euphoria threaten to take you under. You don't even bother to hold back. As soon as you come you feel them all come with you, like tiny explosions set off in a chain. You gulp down Joel's spunk as Dave spills himself inside your ass, and Marcus and Frankie throb then release, one only seconds after the other. Javier takes control of himself from you and spurts his cum onto your face. For the first time ever in your life, you squirt, gasping at the relief and suddenness of it. The six of you try hard to catch your breath, all of you taking in the moments of this night.

"I don't think I'll be able to cum for weeks," Joel says, chuckling as he pulls up his pants.

* * *

Showered and dressed, you leave in a skimpy outfit that covers more than the lingerie did, as Dave uses the escort agency's app to send you a very generous tip from himself and the rest of the guys. The guys, cleaned up and all in relaxed moods, watch the game, not even upset that they missed most of the second half. You take your money and leave, blowing a kiss to the guys.

"God damn, you hired a good one," Javier mutters to Dave.

"Let's make this an annual thing," Dave smirks. "Next one's on you, Peña."

[brucewaynehater101]

Ok so I saw a post u reblogged and it lead me to this fuckin thought

(is it a good one? Idk man)

Yj but Shiva is there. She's already trained Tim, which makes him hers (in the sense that she made him) (in a similar but opposite way to cass. They are both her children).

Yj on their own are pretty morally grey. Tims hard limit is killing, and yj follows that but the second Tim doesn't, they don't.

Bruce I hc as not reading the yj mission reports bc if he did he would've made Tim into an unbeatable baseball player just in case after the One time. And he never did that so he clearly never read them.

But years later Shiva rocks up to the watchtower (we all know she could) and asks for her Kids.

They're like fuckin WHOMST

Surprise it's yj. The clone u didn't care for, the speedster you didn't want, the child you hated for who his predecessor was, the children you failed, not just physically but emotionally. Who you never thought about beyond the burden they put on you.

They fuckin it up with lady Shiva.

Tbh I hc that if she found out ab cass she'd fuck up the loa bc she respected Tim enough to not force him to kill, so I doubt she'd knowingly let it happen.

So to me she's calling them to destroy the loa and David Cain. Tbh yj would kill on this mission. No records, just murder and they tell the jl "we partied!!"

The way you explain your reasoning behind Bruce never reading YJ mission reports is 100% true. That man, after reading such a report, would've made sure Tim knew how to play every single sport in existence. Honestly, it could have been a cute bonding moment of them playing sports (are there ulterior motives? Yes. Could still be nice).

I'm also vibing with your good mentor/parent Lady Shiva. I wonder if, in this AU, Tim does the whole killing and reviving Shiva thing. Would she be proud?

Anyways, good on Lady Shiva for accidentally adopting all of YJ. Let her give YJ the morally grey support they need

[papayatori]

Jjk x reader!

Head canons (bc I like these ^^) (incl: Yuji, Megumi, Yuta, Toge…)

Yuji Itadori

Golden Retriever Gets super excited over the little things Likes being called "baby", he prefers it over his real name, which if you use his real name he'll get suspicious// Super clingy, but in a good way, doesn't try to hide it in front of anyone. He will shamelessly hold your hand or squeeze your thigh in the car, no one can make fun of him enough for him to stop. (not even you, but he knows you secretly like the attention) Probably the best boyfriend ever

Megumi Fushiguro

Terrified of affection, makes him feel weak. Always worries about you, especially if you don't text back within a certain amount of time Is clingy, but he'll never admit it. Drinks his coffee black, that's just how he is. Always offers to do everything for you, regardless of how he tells you he feels about it, but not without complaining. Secretly really touchy, but only behind closed doors, he can't bear the teasing from the trio. Jealous type, secretly though, you'd never know Scary dog privilege.

Yuta Okkotsu

Very shy, but very loving. Won't do anything you aren't comfortable with, offers you a safe word (as he should, go Yuta.) Likes holding your hand, loves physical attention, no matter where you are unless you're uncomfortable. Isn't shy about telling others he loves you or that you're his girlfriend, he enjoys seeing people's reactions Prefers tea, but will drink coffee with you if you asked. Adamant on making sure you're healthy, asking if you've slept well and eaten. Will scold you if you haven't

Toge Inumaki

Doesn't say much, but offers you wordless support, always. Tries to be cool constantly, but is actually really sweet and a big softy when it comes to you Loves cuddles, holding you, everything that involves touching you. Canonically likes plushies and matcha, you can't tell me otherwise. Very playful, likes to bully and tease you. If he wants to help you with something he'll just take it from you, teasing you about not being able to carry everything by yourself, especially in public. He enjoys embarrassing you. Plays fortnite/valorant with you <3 Gamer boy, probably has a twitch and they hear all about you Super clingy, he doesn't care what others think. Drinks Chai, just his vibe. will buy you starbucks every morning. (he knows your favorite) Easily jealous. (thats why he takes it upon himself to order for you almost everywhere, he's the only one that can look at you.)

[sjyfave]

happy father’s day! (lol)

𓍯 how i think en-hyung-line would make out!

minors do not interact! (18+)

HEESEUNG is a soft kisser in my opinion. like i feel like his kisses are very soft and feathery. he hates ones that are harsh, if anything he’d breathe heavily in a kiss to show passion. he doesn’t like biting lips, but he might like his partner—very lightly—biting his bottom lip in a teasing manner. he probably moves very sensually; not liking speed. he doesn’t chase lips but he will lightly grab the side of your face with one hand if you move around too much. he doesn’t like fighting for affection so if you pull away he’ll let you, eyes slowly opening to watch what you do next. loves being begged for a kiss, loves being reassured by your words but also your actions—like chasing his lips if he pulls back. #NSFW: if somethings going to happen, his hands convey the aggressiveness his kiss doesn’t. he’s more than okay letting you control a kiss while he does what he’s doing, breaking the kiss softly when his hand dips lower. probably likes if you moan in his mouth. probably hums at your moans to acknowledge them. will peck at your lips even when you can’t kiss back.

JAY to me gives me “chasing lips” vibes, making him a harsher kisser. i don’t think he’d ever go for you biting his lips but he’d probably tug at them with his teeth a little as he pulls back. he gives very dominant vibes. not in an aggressive daddy dom way—NO. i’m saying in like hand placements. he probably likes slower kisses while holding his partners face in his hands. i think he likes passion, liking if his partner is needier than he is. i think he hides attraction pretty well but he’s very much a giver. he doesn’t really do the whole “make out session” bull. if you make out with him in public he’ll wait till you two are alone to do something more. #NSFW: he’s probably just as dominant if not more dominant doing things while kissing, but he doesn’t multitask well. he’d probably leave you to make out with his own still lips as he concentrates on making sure you feel good. he’ll snap back in sometimes, but he’s usually preoccupied. he’d probably would move to kiss down your jaw so he can concentrate better while doing what he needs to.

JAKE gives me the whole nine. i think he kisses like hes absolutely desperate for it regardless of the situation. if you know how to use tongue he’ll kiss with tongue to match you. i think he’d enjoy his partner biting of his lips, but he wouldn’t do it back because that’s not his style. he defiantly chases lips, smiling softly. he probably looks so out of it after each kiss, staring at your lips when you pull away—FUCK. his hands probably travel a lot, so he wouldn’t kiss in public for this exact reason. he’s probably so attentive too, constantly opening his eyes to look at you with each pull away to check on you subconsciously. will kiss for fun. will kiss for anything. #NSFW: he’s probably flexible with his partner, if they want to be dominant then he’ll gladly be more submissive. probably likes his hair being played with and tugged a bit during kisses just enough for him to feel it but again—not for the pain. he probably likes his partner groping him just a little during kisses. loves his partner moaning into his mouth. probably talks into your mouth while you do it. “yea? like that?”

SUNGHOON to me likes being chased. he doesn’t fight for affection in my opinion, liking more when his partner pushes themselves between what he’s doing for affection. he probably bites his own lips through breaks in kisses. i think he’d let his partner control the kiss whether that’s holding his face or wrapping their arms around his shoulders. he probably keeps his eyes open for a little at the beginning of each kiss to watch you’re actually closing yours. if your hands get a little wild during a kiss he’ll probably stop you if it’s obviously not going anywhere. won’t be the type to bite lips, but if you do it swiftly enough to him he’ll think it’s hot. #NSFW: he doesn’t kiss unless it’s to shut you up from being too loud, being a way to focused on what he’s doing. he probably stalls during kisses just to see how desperate you are to make out with him until he finally reciprocates. loves being begged for a kiss.

© SJYFAVE ON TUMBLR

[cupidvisions]

𝔭𝔞𝔠-𝔴𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔩𝔦𝔢 𝔦𝔰 𝔟𝔢𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔬𝔩𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲

—>about this reading: this reading is going to tell you the lie being told, why the truth is being held from you, and when or if you’ll find out! sounds interesting? then continue reading !

—> how to choose? close your eyes, clear your mind, and open your intuition. the about the numbers, the images, the feeling they gives you. then choose🖤

the banners used are by @cafekitsune !!

1->3

pile 1

signs that this is your pile: pisces, cancer, taurus, capricorn, 5, 8, 15, lots of emotions recently, a feeling of needing help but not knowing how to get it, uncomfortable, back pain 

8 of cups, queen of cups reverse, hierophant, the devil 

the lie

the lie that’s being told to you is that you are a disappointment. this could be a lie your telling yourself, but if there is an outside influence, i’m seeing that the person who may be telling you this is insecure or dependent on you, so they try to keep you down in a low vibration too. i also have a feeling that you may not want to leave this situation or person that is causing you these feelings. this can trigger a sense of abandonment for you. another lie i can see being told is “you can’t leave” or “you can’t escape” maybe you feel stuck on the situation or person you are with. this could also be from yourself. i’m seeing that this lie could make you very emotional. interestingly enough, before i started this reading i felt stuck, like i didn’t know what to say. so i read something that reassured me that i can do this reading. maybe that’s a sign for you to look for someone close to seek help from, or find health coping mechanisms 

why is the truth being held from you?

(i actually feel like the lie may be coming from within so that’s how i typed that part)

it’s being held from you possibly because of the situation your in causes you to conform to the rules of that environment. this can mean that the community your apart of may not be open to hearing what you have to say. it could be brushed off as “a little anxiety” or “not that big of a deal”. i’m having a feeling this lie is coming from within, so there’s a chance that your scared that if you tell someone, you’ll be shamed, ridiculed, or pushed away. this is what’s keeping you away from the truth

when or if you will find out 

(when or if you will tell others)

i’m seeing that you will likely keep this to yourself. maybe the inner voice is plaguing you to keep this in. but there are consequences to keeping this in. it can lead to self destructive behaviors, and you will continue to feel like your stuck or restricted. you may have a toxic relationship with these negative thoughts , like when you try to show yourself some compassion, you may feel uncomfortable or like it’s not right. it may be awhile before you finally open up about how your feeling

pile 2

signs this is your pile: capricorn, virgo, 0, 1, 2, 9, feelings of confusion, optimism

the fool, 2 of pentacles, the hermit, ace of wands

the lie 

i have a feeling that the lie being told to you is that this risk, or new beginning will be worth it. maybe it puts a lot of things at risk or you are blindness going with the flow. i have a feeling that you were convinced by someone or yourself that this “new possibility” will be worth the 50/50 risk. i’m seeing that you don’t wanna miss out on this opportunity, or you’ve been trying to put your trust into going with the flow, instead of being practical and planning. on this card this man is looking in the air blissfully with what seems to be him dancing at the edge of a cliff, and that’s somewhat the vibes i get from this. you really wanna try to be positive about this, but i’m getting a sense that it isn’t like you to just “trust the process”. and i have a feeling you may have been coerced into thinking or feeling like it was a good idea

why is the truth being held from you?

the truth is being held because someone or yourself is trying to get you out of your comfort zone. being told the truth may make you realize that the risk isn’t worth it, or that you could be making a bad decision. i’m also seeing that you are having an internal conflict choosing which side of you to believe. “do i want to take the risk or not?” “new start or comfort zone?” these are the questions you may be asking yourself. taking this opportunity could also put a lot of your priorities at jeopardy or make you lose sense of what your priorities are. in the hermit card, the man is holding a lantern but he’s looking away from it, i feel like this you you looking away from the truth, someone withholding it, or the truth being right in front of you but you can’t see it

when or if you will find out 

you will be told the truth eventually or shown  the right decision. i’m seeing that once you bet out of this limbo of “should i or should i not” it will open more doors for yourself. in fact, a new and even better opportunity can come along. going through this lesson will help you grow, and and gain power from it (could be metaphorical). this also strikes an inspiration in you. if you paint, draw , write, this could inspire you to make a piece from this situation. i’m seeing that you’ll be quite satisfied with the outcome 

pile 3

signs this is your pile: 8, 88, 2, sagittarius, gemini, cancer, the moon, needing a break, tired, relaxing, scared, timid, paranoia, waiting, impatience, listening 

8 of wands reversed, 8 of sword reversed, the high priestess 

the lie

i’m seeing that you are being told to wait, or to be patient about whatever is coming. “you just need to wait” “your being so impatient” is what i’m hearing. i feel like waiting is giving you a sense of panic and fear. this is causing frustration, more panic, tiredness, and paranoia. people around you, or yourself could be telling you to hold off doing something. you feel stuck, and confused. your not sure what to do, and this can be feeding into your anxiety. while typing this i feel a sense of anxiety, and also feeling like i don’t know what to do, i have a feeling you also don’t know what to do 

why is the truth being held from you?

i feel like the truth is being held from you because you may not want to accept it. you have beliefs that are limiting you from your fullest potential. you beat yourself up over this situation, or thing that is causing you this stress. you may cuss or whisper negative things to yourself when your upset. you don’t want to accept the truth. maybe your inner thoughts are telling you it’s too good to be true, or that you not ready to open yourself up to that perspective. although you may be scared, i have a feeling the truth will free you from all this worry 

when or if you’ll be told the truth

i’m seeing that this is a maybe. i feel like it’s really up to you wether you want to accept it or not. i’m seeing that you should trust your gut feeling about this. use your instincts and intuition to guide you to your answer. i’m also seeing a feminine figure, maybe one you look up to, will help with this. i’m finding that this information will be something you hold onto dearly and you will gain a sense of purity, and trust yourself again 

[kpop---scenarios]

Monster (4)

Pairing: Chan or Felix x Reader

Genre: Mafia, Arranged Marriage

Warning: Language, Smuuuut [18+ ONLY. MINORS DO NOT READ]

Word Count: 1.8k

Taglist: @gloriajovicc @bluebeard67 @stephanieeeyang @mouseyboo @stayatinykatsy @thicccurls @thecutiepieme @maisyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy @kayleefriedchicken @msauthor @purple-bell @bluesiebirdie @jisunglyricist @skzdust @hash2013

@chloe-elise-2000

One | Two | Three

“This is not something that's up for negotiation.” Mr Lee says. He looks back at your sister who gives you a slightly condescending smirk before turning her head, undoubtedly changing her expression to a pout when looking at their dad. “Mia, my dear, I'm very sorry about this.” He sighs. “You let me know which one you want to marry and I'll make sure it happens.” He smiles. Mia stands up, doing a little hop as she walks over to Felix.

“I'm going to go out with this one, and then I'll go out with the other one and make my decision.” She smiles.

“He has a name.” You snap. “Try using it.”

Mia rolls her eyes as she grabs Felix by the sleeve, yanking him out of the office and you assume down the hallway and out the front door.

“Now what are you doing here?” He asks you.

“I'm.. um.. I was attacked..” you trail off as Chan's hand presses on your lower back, just hovering above your ass. He leans in, whispering in your ear. “Breathe, princess, I've got this.”

He stands up straight, taking one step in front of you, as if he was shielding you from the man who sat in front of you.

“She was threatened at the club tonight, and then attacked in her apartment. Her dad wanted to take her to a safe house but I'd rather she was here. I can protect her.” Chan says. You peek over his shoulder, just enough to see the small smile form on Mr. Lee's lips.

“You're gonna drag their shit into our house, is that it?” He asks.

“Their shit is going to be our shit once Mia marries one of us, so what's the problem?” Chan asks.

“The problem is that she's not Mia. If Mia was having issues then I'd understand, but Y/N.. I mean her own father doesn't want to marry her off, my boy. Shouldn't that raise some kind of red flag?” He asks.

“It doesn't, because you know what? There's something off with Mr. L/N, and I promise you I'll find out what.” Chan responds. Mr. Lee sits up slightly.

“What do you mean? Do you think it's something that should cut the merger?” Mr. Lee asks. “You've always had good instincts Chan, just like your father. You know I trust what you say.”

“Then trust me when I say Y/N and her problem is going to be minor compared to Mr. L/N and his problem. I know it.”

“She stays in your room. But if anyone dies Chan, it's on you.” Mr. Lee sighs, looking back down at his paperwork. Chan moves around you, pulling you behind him. He grabs your bag, taking you upstairs and down the hall. The last door on the left, He swings it open. It's a lot more bare than you expected. Black walls, black curtains, black bedspread. Minimal paintings, no pictures. His closet was organized and full of almost all black as well.

“Is black your favorite color?” You laugh.

“No, it's red, why?” He asks with a straight face. You look at him, very confused, until he cracks a smile. “Black just looks clean. I like the way it makes me feel.” He says. You could understand that, it gave off a surprisingly relaxing vibe. “You can take the bed.” He says. “I'll take the chair.” He finishes pointing to a recliner in the corner of the room.

“Absolutely not.” You say, crossing your arms. “You're not giving up your bed for me. I'll take the chair.”

“You are a lady, you get the bed.” He smiles. You walk up to him, trying to be intimidating, getting in his face.

“You're taking the bed, or you're gonna have to fight me.” You laugh. Chan looks at you, he's no longer smiling.

“You think you can take me?” He asks, cocking his head to the side. You nod your head, still confident where you stood. Until Chan grabs onto your arms, pushing you back, you fall onto the bed, with him on top of you, pinning your wrists down to the bed.

“Are you still sure?” He whispers.

You bite your lip to stop your smile, but it doesn't work as well as you hope. You place your hands on his chest, trying to push him off of you but he doesn't budge. His eyes are locked into yours as he slowly inches his face closer to yours. You're frozen as his lips slowly press down against yours. Your eyes shut immediately, focusing on what was happening in that very moment. Seconds later your lips slightly part, and Chan uses that to his advantage, slipping his tongue into your mouth. He releases your wrists, his hands now moving all around your body. You immediately grab the hem of his shirt, pulling it off the best you can. Chan breaks the kiss, sitting up to straddle you as he throws his shirt behind him. You try not to gawk at his toned chest and stomach but how could you not when he looked like a fucking Greek god? Your hands trail all over his stomach, to his pecks, taking in the full experience.

Chan chuckles as he watches you feeling his body. “Can I rub my hands all over your body now?” He asks.

“You can do whatever you want to me.” You answer. It had been so fucking long since you'd actually gotten dick at all, you were already so wet. Chan moves off of you, pulling you up with him. He grabs your shirt, pulling it over your head before he unhooks your bra. He was wasting no time at all. He cupped your breasts, sucking and nipping at each nipple.

“Oh my god, please.” You pant.

“What do you want, princess?” He asks, dropping to his knees.

“Something.. anything.. please, I'm so wet.” You groan. Chan hikes up your skirt, ripping your panties off as he pushes you back on the bed. H3 grabs your legs, yanking you towards him as he buries his face between your legs. He nips and sucks at your thighs, moving his way to your lips. He spreads them apart, using the flat of his tongue to lick up your slit. You could have cum with just that it had been so long. Your eyes roll back as Chan sucks your clit, you can feel your orgasm building in your stomach as your hands grip his bed sheets, pulling them hard. You buck your hips but Chan holds you down as he devours your soaking cunt, sloppily tongue fucking you before flicking your clit. You reach up, grabbing his hair as you pull him closer into you, grinding your cunt on his face until you can't take it anymore. You lose your breath as you cum, gasping for air as pure euphoria surges through your entire body. You swore your vision went black as you came.

You're barely down from your high when you hear Chan unbuckling his belt. He pulls down his pants and boxers, letting his cock spring free. He was thick and veiny, and it made your mouth water. He moves you towards the middle of the bed, climbing on, lifting your legs over his shoulders as he inserts himself into you, slowly pushing in, and slowly stretching you out.

“You're so fucking tight.” He groans.

“Fuck that feels good.” You cry out. You hadn't realized how much you had longed for the feeling of being filled up and so fucking satisfied until now.

Chan starts slowly thrusting into you, each time he pulls out a little, and pushes back in, it stretches you out a little more. “Faster.” You pant, needing more friction, more pounding. He does as he's told and begins slamming into you, watching your eyes roll back into your head with every thrust, listening to every pant that escapes your lips.

“Louder, princess. I wanna hear you scream.” He moans, digging his fingers into your legs as he fucks you. Your legs were rubbing together in just the right way that your already sensitive clit was getting rubbed again and this orgasm was close.

“God.. yes.. fuck my pussy.” You cry out. “just like that.”

“That's it princess.” He grunts. “You take my cock so fucking well. Cum for me. Cum all over my cock.” He groans.

It doesn't take you long after that to cum, your back arching as you grind yourself onto his cock even harder as you cover his cock. He moans loudly picking up his pace. His thrusts become sporadic, you know he's going to cum soon. His pants become heavier until he pulls out of you, jerking his cock until he cums all over your stomach. His chest heaving with his head thrown back as he milks himself for every ounce of cum.

“Ah shit.” He pants. He quickly walks to his bathroom grabbing you a cloth to wipe yourself with. Before he gives it to you, he looks at you and back at the cloth and chuckles. “Maybe a shower instead?” He asks.

“I think that would work better.” You smile. Chan hands you the cloth anyways to prevent dripping, leaving you to shower alone while he gets dressed.

When you're done, you come out into the room drying your hair with a towel. You look at Chan who's snuggled up in the chair and laugh. “That is not going to be comfortable for you.”

“No.. but it's whatever.” He smiles. You walk over to him, grabbing his hand to pull him up. You pull him to the bed, pushing him down before crawling beside him.

“You just fucked me, I think we'll be okay sleeping in bed together.” You smile at him. He laughs, covering his face.

“Yanno, for a mafia mobish guy, you're awfully friendly.” You tell him.

“If I like you I am.” He says. “You cross me though, I'll fucking kill you. I've done it before and I'll do it again.”

“Noted.” You laugh.

The two of you talked a little, until you just couldn't keep your eyes open any longer. You slowly drifted off to sleep, dreaming peacefully for the first time in a while.

However, that didn't last very long, or so it felt. Hours later you and Chan are woken up by Felix busting into Chan's room.

“First of all.” Felix says, clearing his throat. “You're taking Mia out tonight.” He says, pointing to Chan. “It's your turn. Which means, Y/N, you're spending the night with me.” He grins.

“Is that why you busted in here?” Chan asks, rubbing his eyes.

“No, this is very important information.” Felix says, holding up a piece of paper.

You and Chan crawl out of the bed, standing next to Felix as he slowly turns the paper over. Your eyes go wide, mouth dropping as you look in between both men.

“I knew something was fucking going on.” Chan snaps.

You look at Felix, trying to get your words out. “It's okay, Y/N. We'll figure out what the fuck is happening.” He says, trying to make you feel better.

“I know you will.. but right now I want to know how the fuck my dad knows Seojoon and what the hell are they doing together?”

[redflagshipwriter]

Red Hot Ghouls 10 2/2

Masterpost

Jazz’s roommate Tiffany was fine and all that, but Danny didn’t feel that he was missing out on much when he phased from the stairwell directly into the little ensuite bathroom that connected to Jazz’s bedroom. He could hear quiet conversation from the living room��� the TV, maybe?

But Jazz had clearly locked her bedroom door before she left. Danny made a note that Tiffany definitely wouldn’t be finding him and then he starfished on his sister’s bed. He set an alarm for 1 am with a smidge of guilt. It probably wouldn’t wake her up. Maybe she wouldn’t even stay home for the night, she had a boyfriend, right? Or was she the one with the girlfriend who worked downtown?

Whatever. Danny slept like the dead. In fact, he slept through his alarm and woke up to see 7 messages from Jazz. The one showing on the screen was “DANIEL FENTON Tiffany thinks my bedroom is HAUNTED because someone is snoring in there.”

“Oops,” Danny said under his breath. He opened up the clock app and made sure that the alarm wasn’t going to go off again. He quietly pulled open Jazz’s drawers to find a clean pair of socks and a hoodie that didn’t have his university name written on it.

The first thing he pulled out was a baby pink hoodie that had SQUAT written on it in white all-caps print. “I sure do,” he said to himself, and changed into it. It was a lie. He did not lift weights. That was Jazz’s hobby.

He did enjoy the thought of how pinched her face was gonna get when she saw him in her clothes. Danny had a little chuckle over it before he phased back out and nearly fell down the staircase. His arms wheeled for balance.

When he caught himself he looked around to be sure no one saw. The zone was clear. Danny smirked.

“Another perfect landing for the Phantom.”

Oh, duh. That was a thought. He didn’t have to hoof it.

It was dark enough that he reconsidered his plan to walk to Arkham on foot and ducked back into Jazz’s place to transform where no one could see the light show.

He made good time across the stretch of ocean that separated Jazz’s dream job from the rest of Gotham City. He knew where to go, based off of insider information.

Jeremy Waters had landed himself in Arkham, rather than standard criminal housing, because he would not shut the fuck up about the debt the Ghost King was going to owe him and how he would repay it in the blood of everyone who crossed him or whatever. He was in the low security end, given that he was just some dude, but Danny still spend a moment steeling himself to wake Jeremy and (ugh) talk to him.

‘He’s going to take this as positive feedback,’ Danny thought glumly. ‘He’s going to think he’s gotten something in his obsession with me. He’s probably going to be even more annoying.’

He wasn’t entirely sure that Jeremy’s focus on gifting him spouses wasn’t projection. The guy was kinda obsessed.

The weight class difference between the two of them was just absurd, metaphysically speaking. Jeremy was a 52 year old Poli-sci graduate who had ditched a middle of the road career in the Foreign Service at age 40 and started pursuing immortality. Midlife crisis and all that. He had a bit of boxing experience, but that was it. He was just a human guy.

Danny was king of the dead and he could shoot lasers from his hands. He was strong even for a ghost.

‘It’s pathetic that he creeps me out still. It’s just such bad vibes to be pursued by this old guy who won’t take no for an answer.’

Still, gotta do what you gotta do. He blew frost into the room to set a mood and scramble the fuck out of any surveilance equipment. Then he grimaced his way through calling out, “Jeremy. Jeremy. Jeremy!” until the jerk woke up.

…and immediately started genuflecting. “My lord Phantom,” Jeremy whimpered. His whole body was shaking.

Danny wished it was fear. But no. It was excitement, like he was some freaky little purse dog. He shuddered. “What did you do differently in your latest summoning?” he asked. His voice somehow came out cold and superior.

He could see Jeremy’s dazed grin even when the guy was still looking at the cell floor. “I am so glad that you ask, my lord,” he babbled. “I increased the number of ritual participants from 7 to 12. I changed from Kosher to Pink Himalayan salt. I was initially going to offer my humble self as a sacrifice-”

Danny’s stomach lurched.

“But when the Red Hood burst in, I knew that it was a sign!”

The red what now?

“Surely someone whose aura is so soaked in death and brutality would be a flavorful meal for one so horrendous and deathly as you, my Lord,” Jeremy babbled on.

Danny made a face.

‘He thinks I’m going to eat the sacrifice spouse?’ Danny paused. ‘...Was he lying, or does he want me to eat him? What does he think will happen if death eats him?’

He had a morbid curiousity that made him want to ask. But it was probably best not to know. He needed to sleep at night.

“It was the Pink Himalayan salt that was powerful enough to draw my attention,” Danny told Jeremy, because he really didn’t need any good information. “I reject your offering. Stop trying.”

He left immediately in hopes of not hearing the wailing and gnashing of teeth behind him.

[zzencat]

Their Sexual Tendencies + Traits? (NSFW) - Timeless ⏳

Simply choose from left to right.

(Minors DNI) Nice and simple. What would happen if you got involved? Their tendencies in bed? Intimate behavior? Maybe it’s the one you’ve been ignoring. How about the one you’re with? A future partner? What goes on in their head at night when you’re all they can think about? And if more unfolds? Very TMI. Includes sexual, graphic descriptions and toxic traits.

Must do before you choose: Clear your mind. Time is now patient and still. Close your eyes, inhale deeply, fill your chest up to the fullest, feel the soft air brush up against the ridges of your nose. Breathe out. You may now begin.

—————————-

Pile 1. “I was a bad girl. I did some bad things.” - Jojo Siwa (lmfaooo)

•right of the bat, “karma” from Jojo siwa played

•I get brat vibes from this pile…are you a brat? lmfao cuz your person’s gonna like that for sure

•or maybe you try to hard to be a brat or appear/act like one? Your person loves it regardless

•this person loves dominating, but they can get just as enthusiastic as a sub. The instant switch and role change is actually pretty impressive, since they do it effortlessly

• I get the vibe they do or will do most of the topping work tho. They can have their lazy days, sure, but they like moving

•dare I say this person is the kinkiest out of the three piles

•^^ we’re talking bondage, role play, slapping(? Damn), everything and all over the above—receiving or giving, they can do it all. Fast raw sex and quickies are hot to them esp

• if you’re poly, this person is okay with that. If you’re not, they’re also okay. they just wanna have sex, end of story 🧌

• is down to literally do it anywhere and everywhere

• if this relationship started off as some kind of fwb or anything with benefits, I wouldn’t be surprised

• if you guys are both in a committed relationship, make sure you try to match their energy in bringing new things to the bedroom

• these people are shower masturbators—the sex drive is actually crazy like- slow your horse for just a second damn

•^^ they don’t even have time to masturbate if you’re with each other all the time. I got the image of a couple going on a trip and they’re in a hotel…yk what comes next. If you live together, cue some jungkook music. There’s no makin it out

• if you’re not together due to long distance stuff, a lot of cam/phone sex. It happens so much that you think they’re jobless (and they could be tbh. Tell em to get a job!!!)

• this person gives me the vibe that they’re not really in an occupation that demands much. It feels like a very lax, low demand and energy job OR they’re a model for something and they make money through content like that

• this person is reallllly good looking tho. It’s how they can get away with a lot of things

• their maturity level is kinda questionable I wont lie…I think you need to teach them some boundaries

• they could take a while to see their faults? Maybe they don’t wanna see or they’re too oooh la la in the sky

• can come off as quite careless. Can even be clingy

• also very prone to peer pressure or self-sabotaging behavior

•avoids conflict like the plague

• open to all body types as long as your face is cute. I think they likely prefer people who don’t look like they’re freaks in the sheets ykwim? The duality is prob what gets em going. But then again, I think anything gets them going. This person is a true horndog of nature

• (I, personally, as Teddy, the reader, feel like I should include why they’re like this—craving physical intimacy so much, but there’s this brushing off/dismissive energy like “forget it they don’t need to know- let’s just have fun and shiii”)

•^^ (if I rephrase what I wanted to include, it might be better. They prob grew up with a lot of siblings/other kids, and not enough love to go around, so they were overlooked, OR no-to-low amount of siblings but not enough physical and emotional intimacy and connection from parents/guardians, so they looked towards external sources.)

• doesn’t have too many expectations tbh (idk if that’s a bad or a good thing, but the root of it is that they don’t wanna pressure people to stay with them or force people into commitment)

• ^^if they fall in love with you and yall date, and you leave one day, it’ll hurt so much that they’ll revert back to the thinking of why commitment didn’t always work for them

•childhood couldn’t show them what true commitment was so if you actually express that you want to be with them exclusively, they’ll be so shocked, to say the least. Like “me? Why me? I’m not anything special, lmfao” . They’re laughing it off and will feel nervous so they’ll cover it up by drinking smth (water or anything), but they’re so used to the sentiment of being “nothing special” that they’re numb to it

• ^^ but if they end up falling in love with you (beware of their nonstop horse sex drive), they’ll be a lot more reserved and laid back than before

• they’ll prob be lazier tho ngl. They’ll take days off work just to have sex with you all day

• they make up for this uselessness feeling through sexual activities

• they think like “why touch yourself alone when I’m right here?”

• when they do masturbate tho, they think about you and your body shifting back and forth against the bed. They’re pretty quick tho when it comes to masturbation—I’m guessing bc of impatience and not being able to hold back. They only last long when it comes to sex with a partner

• the body worship is real nice

• most of the sexual activities have one thing in common though, and that’s the closeness of both of your skins. This person kisses your skin so much during sex, and really anytime, feel you up whenever they can. The touchiness is all the time and it’s sweet, but it can always lead to something else

• in this pile, lies a very rare breed. a handful, and really not a lot, will encounter the rare breed partner that also has this high of a sex drive, is confident, has a regular day job, prob tall and slim, is responsible and committed only to you, and will be on board 100% if you ever want to engage in exhibitionist/voyeur activities—extreme (like streaming your intimate moments or camming together)

——————————————————-

Pile 2. *Growling noises.*

• the thing is…you’re just existing 😭

• you don’t do much to piss this person off (most of the time). Some light jokes and messing around here and there but you’re pretty much chillin. (ESPECIALLY when you’re not dating, this bullet point and the previous be the vibe.)

• this person wants you like a predator wants prey, basically. It feels weird to say it ngl, but it’s a very obviously fire energy? Like Leo smth…or a very capable and sadistic Scorpio? They have this dark and mysterious look. Very intimidating, but you prob don’t give this person your time of day—either you don’t care, think it’s weird, or maybe you’re just playing a little hard to get

•^^whatever this person thinks you’re doing, purposely or not, they find it intriguing and you have to be theirs

• this person tho? pile 1 has nothing on this person. My bad, not person—beast.

• very dominant person and very much shows it if you’re exclusively dating each other or in a higher relationship

• they could use some work on their control issues tho. IMPORTANT!!!: this person would NEVER put their hands on you to hurt you out of anger or violent means. No abuse in their household, no, no. (In bed, it’s different but only if you consent)

•^^ regarding the control issues, make sure they’re not obsessed with you bc you’re hard to control. At your highest energy, this pile has a very independent, do-what-I-want energy. You don’t give two shits abt what others think- you dress, look, and act the way you want. You stand up to them when no one has the balls to do it

• very much BDSM. It could get a little tiring—not the person!! The person has hella games and tricks up their sleeve when it comes to bdsm and freaky shit. Tiring in the sense that it just stays in the BDSM realm like dude…break out of it cmon. It’s time to experiment with different menus, not recipes.

• commander type. also choking. this person likes choking. Choking you AND being choked, but they wouldn’t bring up the latter if you never mention it.

• has a LOT of self control…until they don’t. But I think this person loses it very easily bc of their partner—like you needa be punished asap type feel.

• getting off is normal for them, but when they have a partner, most of the time they save it until sex. but if not and you’re not around, they’re gonna go at it, thinking how you should be there, imagining how good you look with your mouth on their parts while you look up at them, praising you about how good you’re doing.

• this person isn’t really simple with masturbation either. If they simply lay down and or sit on their bed and touch themselves, it wouldn’t be as satisfying so they have to go again, preferably touching themselves in a different place—depends on what mood they’re in, they’ll choose a risky, likely-to-get-caught kinda place or a place outside their room, but private.

• wow, verrrry possessive person. Marking you up 😫 In the morning, if you need to go somewhere, they’ll be like “Don’t try to cover it up.”

• This person could be some sort of player? Regardless of who they are, they just have a lot of pent up energy they need to get out of. They def have experience

•honestly, pile 2, this person can get really damn intense. If you can’t handle their heat, it’s okay to get outta the kitchen cuz they’re the ones turning it up and have also broken the ac 😭 the sex is crazy good, but it will take this person a bit of time to actually fall in love with you. Cuz you’re so different from everyone they’ve seen so they’re unsure…weirded out…interested.

• if you somehow get in bed with this person, you’re in for a ride (literally.) after this experience, this person will deadass replay it everywhere, every day, all the time. It becomes an obsession with them (which may or may not be a good thing for you.)

• this person is going to be in your life for a whiiiiile. You might even roll your eyes and be like “whyyy”

• this is the most obvious enemies to lovers trope pile, but it starts smth like that OR you just get annoyed that everyone wants this person and to you, they’re just hot and nothing much.

• it gets wilder— this person WILL try to make you jealous. Shamelessly. (Ick)

• they’d like to receive some mouth-work from you if ya get my vibe. (Which is unfair bc they’re kinda selfish when it comes to receiving pleasure.) if they give it, they give it THEIR way

• ^ you have to put them in their place and show them you’re not someone to be fucked with. The worst thing you could do is leave their life entirely. Even pissing you off gives them something.

• if you’re sick of their shit, they might even let you have a chance of taking it out on them and having your way for once (BUT just so you know, if you do, they’ll take it as you surrendering to them. Like you finally have a weakness or manipulation point.)

• HOWEVER, this person, although very fucking stubborn, is willing to make any and all changes for you. IT WILL TAKE TIME. And only if you’re in love with each other. Maybe they were trying to find someone that was worth their time and more than just looks.

• I will say tho, if you get into an actual committed relationship with this person, the upbringing of this relationship looks pretty toxic. Like the crazy need for control and the unwarranted possessiveness (on their side), especially at points when you’re not dating each other. If you don’t set their shit straight, you’ll fall into the trap and could get a broken heart out of it

• ^^ on the bright side, this encounter/relationship with them will bring you so much personal growth. If you make it out of this relationship in one piece, you’re actually indestructible. And if they’re really willing to change—I suggest noting down their BIG, grandiose sacrifices for you that puts them at some risk—then there’s also a big chance you could have a harmonious and balanced connection

• ^^ why? Bc they know that you’re not superficial and you have substance to you, and they want that. Be wary tho, this person isn’t stupid and knows what strings to pull

• this person could have a tan tint to their skin or brown hair

————————————————————

Pile 3. “Please let me in...”

• this pile’s energy seems a little closed off. not from your person but from you. I’m feeling indifference, constant wariness, but regardless, there’s always a wall

• you’re prob an introvert and has gotten hurt in the past really, REALLY badly, so you’ve been closing your heart off. There’s a piece of you that still wants to find love, hence your presence here, but you act like you don’t or you don’t show that you are interested in wanting it.

• if you’re an extrovert, however? You may not be TOO keen on sharing things about your life. Open to it, sure…but still somewhat selective

• you would sacrifice everything for the person you love, not that you would willingly admit this verbally. If you have, good for you!! You’re the muse baby

• your person is more likely an extrovert and has tried or IS planning to try to get closer to you/get to know you more. They KNOW you are more than what you show on the surface. They’re the only ones who can see the gems behind the rockiness you show

• they’re a virgin or inexperienced

•^^ I don’t think most of the people who chose this pile mind too much, honestly. There’s a bit of a corruption kink rearing its head in here…not super apparent but it be lurkin in da shadows

• oh they’re a switch hahaha. You can just push em on the bed and they’ll let you do whatever you want to them. They’re not complaining at all tho—just lock in on your target and DESTROYYYY 😈😈

• almost a puppy like energy to them—ALMOST. Almost. Bc they have leader vibes but a nice leader. Maybe not respectable by all…but most. Like one who seeks the best for the team but bc they’re not “alpha” or aggressive enough, it can be tough to get people to take things seriously. But eventually people do. Maybe even out of pity.

• I get the feeling this person had to be very in tune with their parents’/guardians’ feelings (I’m getting anxiety or just freaking out over messes and stuff) — maybe they’ve also grown with grandparents? Or have had the presence of their grandparents be very significant in their lives?

•^ bc of this they will most likely be vanilla in bed. I don’t even think they’ll lust after you for a while man I mean, outta respect yk? And also bc it doesn’t feel right to them. It’s not the first thing or one of the first things that come into their mind when they think about you

• ^^ you basically have to tell them what to do, what they can and cannot do too. They’ve had to be so involved in taking care of everybody with an undying kindness to them that they don’t really know where boundaries begin. They’d never wanna break your boundaries

• ok this does not mean that your person is a nice white male, btw!! I keep seeing a salesman, wearing a baby blue button up and khakis, brown hair…this person seems so average? — this could mean that they’re doing everything they can to make others happy and totally not paying attention to their own. I’m not sure if you’ll ever see this person cry in public, but if you make them cry in bed? Hey, go for it muahahah

• it will prob take a while to get them to be comfortable with thinking about you sexually. If they have to relieve themselves, they try to channel this energy into workouts or something physical that gets their mind off of you in that way. Inevitably, the idea of you in bed will pop up, but they’ll shake it off. It’s not even holding back—they just don’t wanna “disrespect” you and see you as an object (but like I said, if you want them to treat you like one in bed or smth, you have to let them know and say it with a lot of conviction. This person is very mentally bullheaded so it’s hard to break into them like that)

•I think they let a lot of things happen bc they’re that empathetic, or they just don’t have the energy for the chase. Like think little kid stealing from a shop, they’ll prob be like “hey kid- ah…” *sighs and scratches back of head as they watch the kid run away with said items*

• if you’re not interested in this person or blatantly ignoring them, they’ll really try to get you (but in a nonstalker-ish way) which is good!! They just want your attention really. They’re pretty much awestruck by you, ESPECIALLY if you ever go to an event and they see you all cleaned up and dressed, they’ll check you out and zone out mid convo I swear. You actually render them speechless.

• (now…we get to some of the graphics.) This person is not a serial masturbator, I will say. Once a day, max. If you’ll allow them, they would do more. They could honestly go all day if you made them. If this person works in an office and you make them soooooo desperate, they would hide somewhere, perhaps an empty room and just start finding heaven. Very quickly too. Quickly and (trying to be) quiet. They’re pretty on top of things and responsible, but if you just tell em what to do, it will be done. They even clean after their mess too (if they do it in public? Cleaning up fast due to freaking out). Like “oh god, what have I done…” They’re super fucking clumsy too and don’t have too good of a recovery in public tho. For example, if they run into someone they know, RIGHT after coming out of the restroom? Red, hot face, sweat all over their neck. Stuttering and shit when they try to say hi to the said acquaintance. When they touch themselves, they don’t use toys (which is very sad. You gotta spice up their lives. They’re open to it. If you’re not the one with spice, they’re also okay with it. And if you’re both okay with vanilla sex every time, feel free!) This person just uses their hands, but LIES DOWN. They like to relax, face the ceiling, close their eyes, and think slow vanilla things…

•might be tmi, but when they touch themselves, it’s kind of inhibited…and not as fast as people do when they’re abt to cross the finish line, yk? Like either long edging sessions or never letting themselves climax sometimes, or rubbing/pressing very hard and still but not fast(?) when they cum…if you know what I mean? Idk if they’re doing it on purpose or if they’re not too experienced, or if they think they don’t deserve it? Scared maybe?

•no kidding, you could actually do anything to this person. cnc/dubious consent would be hot for them—though, they prob wouldn’t know what the kink is called lolll (you have to make sure tho. Establish boundaries and a safe word) bc they wanna be like “nooooo, don’t do that~~” while you’re all over them. BEFORE or IF you guys ever step into that stage tho, they’ll think about simple things if you do allow them to think about you sexually. Like you on top of them, slow grinding, soft touches, helping them out, mutual masturbation. there’s a little part that is innocent and doesn’t know how to step out of that or where to start when it comes to the more kinky stuff.

• it’s funny bc even tho this person has had a lot of experience outside, within a team or jobs, or clubs, etc., they’re so…malleable?? LMFAO 😂 crazy ass word to use but YES. you can throw them around like a damn doll and have them do this and that. A bit of hesitancy, but they know their main purpose in life is to serve :)

• but like I said, they’re a switch, so not only can they think abt you taking control (softdom energy), but if they think abt being on top, they think about slow, loving sex yk? Like slow grinding- oooh, yeah. that really gets them. They’re the type to milk themselves till the last drop too btw. Til. The. Last. Drop.

• also, most of the partners are not a loud moaner. They’re quiet, likely bc they’ve had to force themselves to be quiet in the household they’ve grown in. If your person is a loud moaner, they’ve grown unashamed of their sexual needs and have developed a healthy relationship with that aspect. If you’re with a person who’s like this and moans loud, congratulations!! They have become comfortable in their skin and you have made it so 🙂‍↕️👏👏 If they’re still quiet, def some insecurity bc of growing up with limiting beliefs or having to live with a lot of people in childhood. If you want them loud, you have to encourage it out of them. They’ll be pretty fuckin shy about it though. You realllly have to pull it out of them.

• bonus: if they’re loud, they’re a slut 😂😂 like a secret slut, yk? (this might be a bit darker so don’t read if you don’t want to—this really only applies to a small portion of people here—but chances are they get off…on being ashamed and self-degradation? A big example is being ashamed for engaging in sex/sexual activities? Like a masochist, “this is so dirty, I shouldn’t be doing this…” but proceeds to do it anyway bc they can’t help themselves?? And they likely degrade themselves while getting off. These people may secretly be content creators for this type of thing but appear angelic in real life OR they have potential to. Like them faceless whimper creators lmfaoo. Listen, hey…if you get with one of these people, you a winner winner chicken dinner

•there’s a big chance most people in this pile or the pile’s person feels ashamed or very guilty about the whole sex thing and masturbation; if you’re looking to improve your relationship with sex or relationship with this person, you have to help each other overcome this fear. It doesn’t matter who asserts themselves to the task. It requires the both of you at the end of the day. And boyyy is it gonna be hard- (…anxiety makes it hard for you to get aroused/stay aroused/reach orgasm tho 😮‍💨 the more you know…). No man, it’s gonna be so awkward—palms-sweatingly awkward. Breaking news, you might have to be the assertive one here. Your impatience could get the best of you and in that case, you’ll guide them. There are so many things that could go wrong in this situation of awkward pre-sex, but if this person has shown their worth to you and you actually trust them, a lot of it is salvageable by your own hand.

• however, if this situation goes south (and not the south we want…) then, this person will start to feel bad or insecure that they’ve hurt or done something wrong towards you, even though they’re a clumsy dummy who doesn’t intend to hurt people and tries hard to do everything right

• ^^ should you ever try to initiate it and try to sex em up again, you’d have to put a bit of work in to convince them, bc they were really open that one time and it was honestly…kinda the first time they’ve gotten so close to doing something THAT vulnerable and revealing. It would feel like they stripped and you didn’t like what you saw, and it was so apparent on your face that it broke them. That kind of vibe. A very sensitive person at heart.

• they get really anxious if something goes wrong. It’s probably a trait they picked up from parents/guardians being like that.

• they have SOOO much potential, seriously. But a lot of what-ifs on their mind so they’re playing it safe. Be confident, and maybe even borderline bossy, with them and gradually they’ll open out of their shell. This person is like hot liquid gold, waiting to be molded into your likings 😇

———————————

**Teddy Note: Hi guys!! This is a super long post, but I hope you’ve gotten something out of it. My sexual tarot deck just came in and I’m pretty much obsessed with it already hahaha. Thank you for reading today’s post!! If you haven’t heard, I’d just opened up paid readings, and there is a sexual reading in there that is pretty much like this one, but more individualized towards you and pretty detailed (if you do decide to purchase, that is.) That’s all I gotta say. It’s been pretty intense doing these readings and the partners in these piles are all wildin in their own way 😅 Thank you again! Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t! Peace outtt :))

[fandomfucker]

Hey bestie

I’ve loved you stuff for ages so I thought you would be a good writer for a lil idea I had!

Poly! Judgement Day x reader (or just Rhea Ripley ) where bubbly (but smart and snarky) reader gets moved to smackdown during the draft and only sees the rest of her partners one or two days a week.

She acts independently like it doesn’t bother her that she has to travel alone, and doesn’t tell her partners that she’s had trouble making friends at smackdown. But it’s taking a toll on her.

When she starts seeing them post more photos without her and all text her less she finally loses it.

After a long day of losing a championship match reader goes home to find out that her partners didn’t even know that she had a match that night and barely acknowledge her homecoming. Reader cries herself to sleep alone in their kingside bed.

Hurt/comfort ensues

- I hope this wasn’t too long 💕,

🟧Anon

Thank you so much for all your support!!🫶

Definitely get toxic relationship vibes with this so i kinda played into it a little. Also, this doesnt actually follow anything because I dont actually really watch Smackdown, pls dont kill me🙏

Some of the dialogue and resulting reactions/scenarios are from this list by @judgementdaysunshine and @romanthereigns

Word count: 4,473

Reader’s POV

It felt like my heart had been ripped in two and then thrown in a woodchipper.

Without any kind of warning or anything, I had just been removed from my partnership with the Judgment Day and put on Smackdown instead of Raw.

Backstage in our shared dressing room it was quiet enough to hear a pin drop as the five of us all stood around in stunned silence.

Dominik was the first to break it as he launched himself at me, cradling my head to his chest as the news began to sink in.

Tears began to well up in my eyes as I stared off over his shoulder at nothing. Our hug was jolted when Damian, Finn, and Rhea joined us, surrounding and enveloping us whole.

I blinked until the tears receded, refusing to cry over an unfortunate situation such as this.

I felt tears on my shoulder from one of my partners and heard the shaking sobs of the others, making it just that much harder to not cry myself.

Reluctantly, I pulled away from our group hug, wiping away any remaining strays.

I cleared my throat, "This isn't going to change anything, okay? We all still love each other and at the end of the day, we all go back to the same home. We'll be okay."

Dominik nodded, keeping a hand on my waist as he wiped away his own tears. Catching Damian also wiping away his tears I sent him a small smile, hugging into his waist.

"You're right, dove. It might be hard, but we'll make it work just like we always do." Rhea smiled as she cradled my face in her hands.

I nodded my head, smiling at her in return before removing myself from the boys' holds on me and crushing her body into mine, holding onto her waist tightly.

Finn stood to the side of her and took one of my hands in his, "Lass, this isn't goodbye, and it never will be. You're going to do great by yourself, really get the chance to show everyone just what all you're capable of."

Nodding my head again against Rhea's chest, I squeezed his hand in acknowledgment and comfort as I took in all my partners in the group locker room for what was possibly the last time.

"I'll make you guys proud."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two smackdowns later and I still had yet to make any of them even remotely proud.

Turns out, even if you leave a group, people still hold grudges against you for being in that group.

Rhea and I had obliterated the entire women's division both individually and as the occasional tag team so no one liked me or even so much as acknowledged I was there.

The ignoring was worse than any bullying or ambushes I could have anticipated.

The only woman in the locker room that would even look at me was the new girl from NXT, Blair Davenport but the others had warned her about me, so she too stayed away.

All the men wouldn't talk to me either more than a 'hello' in passing because my boys had swept through them too.

Apparently creating grudges left and right isn't as fun as I thought, once those I made the grudges with are no longer with me. I had burned all the bridges I now needed to keep from drowning.

We managed to work our schedules out enough so that we'd all be able to see each other once or twice a week, unless there was a PLE in which we'd be together that whole week.

I was given a newer design along with new beefs. Instead of my usual black and dark purple I wore more pastel colors. Baby blue, lilac, light yellows, etc. I was given extensions and my makeup was much less dramatic. My shorts were traded for skirts and my hand symbols for hearts.

I was told they were wanting to take some more creative liberties for me and I could either get on board with it or leave.

My first match on Smackdown was against the new girl, Blair Davenport who wanted to "show the world what she's made of" and decided to try and make me her example.

Long story short; I won. And that really didn't do me any favors, except to get me a match against Chelsea Green. The winner of which would be getting a shot at the Women's Championship title against Bayley.

Sitting in the locker room after winning my match against Chelsea I sat in the corner with my knees to my chest as I texted the Judgment Day group-chat.

Y/N: Guys!! I got a match against Bayley for the title next week!! We're about to have two womens champs in the JD!😁😁💪💪

With the different time zones I wasn't expecting an immediate reply so I just went ahead and began scrolling through Instagram until it was time for my promo.

Rhea's post came up first. It was just a picture of her dinner, at a fancy restaurant, and you could see Dominik's shirt and hands in the background.

Some of us go on dates with each other by ourselves all the time so I thought nothing of it, just liked it and kept scrolling.

Until I saw that Damian had uploaded a friends-only story. Clicking on it, it was a mirror selfie of him and Finn wearing tuxes, a peak of a flowy red dress just out of frame. The next slide was a full picture of Rhea in her dress. Her dress that I had given her.

My eyes stung a bit that my partners had all gone out on a really nice date without me, but I blinked it away because it didn't matter. It was one date and I'm on the other side of the country right now, they can go on one date without me. It's fine.

When it was time to do my promo, someone came and escorted me to the specific area where my favorite unbiased interviewer, Cathy Kelley, was waiting for me. Her face lit up when she saw me as I barreled towards her.

Crushing her into a hug, we both squealed with delight at finally seeing each other for the first time in forever.

We caught up and did my promo and decided to go out for a really late dinner together after the show. I told her about my struggles with the women on the roster while she spilled about her own personal problems.

"Oh! Let's take a cute little dinner date picture for Insta!" Cathy exclaimed pulling out her phone. I agreed and joked that we should hold hands across the table like a real date and she agreed.

She posted the photo and we watched as the comments rolled in from the fans. Some were loving it while others thought she might be dating both Rhea and me now. We laughed at some of the comments before going back to our conversation.

Wrapping up dinner, Cathy revealed to me that while she would be on Smackdown more often than before, she still wouldn't be there every week.

"It's okay, its not your fault," I forced a smile before we made our way to our separate hotel rooms. "I'll see you tomorrow though?" I asked hopefully.

"Of course! Sweet dreams, Y/N," She replied before we went our separate ways.

Two hours later, now laid in my hotel bed about to go to sleep, and the only response I'd gotten was a thumbs-up reaction from Finn. Secretly, I hoped my partners were just too busy planning something special for me when I got home and didn't want to accidentally ruin the surprise.

Deciding to just get over it, I went to bed, dreaming of finally being with all my partners again, going on a date with all of us.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sound of my phone's notifications woke me up early the next morning. I reached out, aiming for the nightstand where I had left my phone to charge the night before. I blindly hit around the area until I felt my phone, bring it up to my half-open eyes, blinking rapidly at the burning brightness of the screen.

The screen was filled with angry texts from my partners.

Finn: What the hell were you doing with Cathy???

Rheas: Were you on a date last night???

Hello???

Y/N!

Damian: Answer us Y/n!!

Dominik: Y/n answer your fucking phone this is insane

My eyes teared up in fear at my partners' reactions. They seemed genuinely upset, especially with the combined 24 missed calls in a 4-hour time period.

I just texted back a simple, "We just went out to dinner and thought the picture would be cute. Nothing more." before getting up and going about my day. With my next flight leaving in just a few hours, I had a lot to do before I could even get to the airport.

After getting out of the shower, I checked my messages only to see no response from any of my partners. Clicking on the chat, I saw that I had been left on read by all four of them. I tried to push aside my feelings but lately it was getting harder and harder to do so.

But, I managed to pull myself together just enough to make it on my flight home just in time.

It was mid-Sunday by the time I made it to our shared house, and I knew I'd be alone for the next couple days since my partners' flight out for Raw had been around the same time as my flight in.

The rest of the day was spent self-loathing in the bathtub as I watched a few of Bayley's old matches, trying to give myself the upper-hand for our match by learning how she fights.

I fell asleep in bed that night, shoveling ice cream into my mouth as I watched old reruns of Full House on the TV.

The next morning was nice because I was finally able to sleep-in after so many early mornings. I was able to make myself a cup of coffee and make french toast (something I hadn't been able to have in forever) as I sat on the back porch watching the birds fly through the trees.

My nice little fantasy, however, was broken when I received an Instagram notification. This one was a picture Rhea had posted; a selfie of the four of them in the car they were driving.

I was too emotionally exhausted for my eye to even begin welling up. So, to save myself from anymore heartbreak and/or grievances, I blocked all four of them on both socials and messages and told myself I'd unblock them later that day.

Later that day turned into fifteen minutes later when I started feeling guilty, so I unblocked their messages and left their socials alone. I'd see the pictures eventually on my feed posted by fans, but hopefully it would take a little bit longer than if they weren't blocked. None of them ever bothered to text me individually or the group chat of all five of us the rest of that week, even after I texted them to congratulate them on their wins form Monday. 

Brushing off the avoidances form them, I just went about my week. A few facetime interviews and a podcast. I answered emails and went to the gym. I cleaned the house and did laundry, wondering when on Earth my partners would get home.

I even called them to ask to no avail. But I saw the posts on Instagram of them a few states away hanging out, going on dates. They had decided to do a road-trip back home instead of a flight. 

The uncomfortable lump in my throat increased with each swipe to the next picture. As I swiped through the pictures, my growing fury and heartache increasing in a swirl of mixed feelings, Dominik texted me, saying they'd be home Thursday night.

Around the same time as my flight out to the next city for Smackdown.

I sent a thumbs up in reply and threw my phone off to the side so I wouldn't have to think about it for the next little while.

I just went ahead and began packing all my stuff for Smackdown Friday night, making sure I had everything I needed for my new ring gear I was about to debut. It was a special occasion, after all. I was about to be the next women's champion.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Friday night had arrived and I now stood in the guerilla bouncing around as I shook out my nerves. Onlookers shot me weird looks as I went through my warm-ups as well, they weren't your typical ones as I had learned them in high school doing theatre.

Bayley passed me, giving me a look I couldn't quite decipher as her music hit first and she walked out. 

A minute later my own started playing and I walked out, swaggering my way down the aisle. When I was told to change my look, and my attitude as well, to make myself not apart of the Judgment Day anymore, I was finally given my own theme music, but I missed our group theme more than anything.  My now long hair swung as I made my way up the stairs and into the ring to do my entrance against the ropes.

Stepping into the middle of the ring, I faced Bayley as our title match was announced and the title showcased to the audience. I caught her mouthing something at me, making me grin sadistically. You can take the girl out of the faction but you can't take the faction out of the girl.

"May the best woman win."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I didn't win.

It was a long match that wound up being longer than anyone anticipated, ourselves included.

Bayley eventually got the best of me when my head hit the turnbuckle at just the right angle for me to black out for a second, leaving room for Bayley to pin me as I was too disoriented to kick out.

The ref had to help me backstage to the medics after the lights went out, signaling the commercial break. She even had to hand me a towel to catch the blood beginning to flow from the small cut.

The on-sight paramedic gave me some ice for my head as she checked my pupils. "Yeah, I think you got a minor concussion there, hon. I'll let Mr. Aldis know but you should sit down and rest until you can get an uber, you shouldn't be driving." 

She left the room and I immediately started bawling my eyes out, making my headache worse. Not only did I now have a concussion which would cause me to be out for at least a few weeks, but I was lonely, my partners were ignoring me and probably didn't love me anymore, and I lost my one shot at the title that I had earned and fought for entirely by myself.

My cries attracted the attention of a few passerby but only one stopped and came in to check on me.

"Hey, Y/n, I'm really sorry. That was my fault, I totally botched that, I'm so sorry. If you want I can take you back to the hotel so you don't have to pay for an uber? I just have one more promo to do and then I'm all done."

I looked up to see Bayley standing there, her title nowhere in sight, looking so sincerely upset and apologetic it just sent another wave of tears down my already soaked cheeks.

"That'd be great, thank you," I laugh-cried as she helped me down from the table and back to the shared locker room.

All the other girls stared at me as I walked in, my face and eyes puffy and my forehead bandaged, as I continued to hold an ice pack to the top of said bandage. No one else seemed to have any sympathy for me and rightfully so. I hadn't actually done anything in the past 2 years to warrant any.

Bayley brought me over to my locker and began helping me get all my stuff together. "Why are you helping me?" I croaked pitifully.

She avoided eye contact, "Because I know what it's like. To lose your faction--the people who mean the most to you and are always supposed to be there for you, I mean."

A small laugh escaped me as well as another tear. I swiped it away before offering my hand to her. "Truce?"

"Truce," She nodded and shook my hand.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finally getting home late the next day, I was relieved to find all four of my partners already at home. I was nervous to see them after all the ignored communications and their Instagram posts of dates I wasn't invited on, but I was tired and hurt and wanted my partners.

Unlocking the door, I stepped into the entryway, smiling softly as I heard my partners' rambunctious laughter coming from the living room. I left my suitcase by the door and made my way over to them.

They were playing the new WWE2k24 game with the new Xbox Rhea had gotten from being on the cover.

"Hey guys! I'm home!" I announced my presence from behind the couch as I walked in.

I received a chorus of "hey babe"s from all four of them, not one of them turning around to actually acknowledge me. And that stung worse than any failed title match or concussion. 

It was like my heart had been ripped out and stabbed repeatedly with a knife before being set on fire. I tried to tough it out and managed to get all the way to our shared bedroom before I burst into tears again.

My pent up feelings, mixed with the concussion, my heavily drugged brain resulting from said concussion, and the overall exhaustion from everything all at once finally came to a head as I sobbed.

I collapsed to the floor, my knees being too weak to hold me up. Crawling up into the bed, I laid there and cried into my pillow as I cradled another to my chest. I cried so hard I couldn't breathe and snot ran down my face.

Eventually, I fell asleep, having not even bothered to change my clothes or take off the makeup that was now streaked down my face. 

I just hoped that when I woke up it would've all been a dream.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

3rd Person POV

The four members of the Judgment Day sat around the living room, playing what they agreed would be the last match before they made dinner.

"Alright," Damian spoke as he stood up and began stretching out his sore limbs, "Who wants what?"

"I want chicken tenders!" Dominik shouted excitedly. 

Rhea laughed and ruffled his hair, sliding her fingers through his silky strands. "Okay, well while Dame and I get started on dinner how about you and Finn go pull Y/N out of the shower and she what she wants."

Dominik nodded like a happy little puppy before grabbing Finn's hand and dragging him upstairs to go find their girlfriend.

They went first to the master bathroom, noticing the light was still off and there was no trace of her having taken a shower. They continued on into the bedroom where they saw the curled-up figure of their girlfriend.

Finn went and turned the bedside lamp on, emitting a soft glow about the room. 

The two of them rounded the bed to face Y/N and wake her up. Dominik saw her first and stopped dead in his tracks, the blood draining from his face causing Finn to rush over.

Before he could even ask what was wrong he looked at Y/N and no longer needed to ask. 

Her face was puffy from tears, her makeup smeared and streaked down her face making it even more evident she had been crying. The pillow she held onto with a death grip had a wet stain on the top of it from previously fallen tears.

But the thing they were most concerned about, was the small bandage on the top of her forehead. Dried blood seeped out from underneath the bandage and was crusted around and in her hairline, the whole area swollen and red.

"What the hell happened?" Dominik asked Finn as they watched Y/N sleep. 

"I dunno," Finn replied in the stunned silence. "We need to get Rhea and Damian, though."

Down in the kitchen, Rhea and Damian danced around each other grabbing various ingredients as well as silverware and dishes. They made idle chat and were laughing when Finn and Dominik bounded down the stairs. 

"What'd Y/N say she wants for dinner?" Damian asked the two of them, his back turned to them as he fiddled with a dial on the stove. 

"She's asleep, but you guys need to come see, something happened," Finn told the two of them.

They both looked up from what they were doing, Rhea grabbing a towel to dry her hands. "What's wrong?" She asked as she ran around the counter and up the stairs to their shared room.

"I'm not even sure," Finn replied.

The four of them raced up the stairs and down the hallway to their bedroom, Rhea leading the way.

She slowly rounded the corner to face Y/N and upon seeing her in the same state the other two had, threw her hand to her mouth in horror as she gasped at the sight before her.

Damian, right behind her, made it to her side to see what all the fuss was about and all the blood drained from his face when he did. "Oh my god."

"Should we wake her up?" Dominik asked, like a scared child.

Rhea, ever the caretaker of the group, chimed in. "No, let's just wait until she wakes up. You guys go back downstairs and finish making dinner and I'll stay here till she wakes up."

"If you're staying here then so am I," Finn argued, taking a seat on the small ottoman at the end of the bed. Rhea nodded reluctantly before looking at the other two.

They both nodded, knowing they wouldn't win any fight they picked. They both walked over and gave Y/N a small kiss on the forehead, the opposite side of where the bandage was, before shuffling out of the room and down the stairs. Now, all they had to do was wait.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn't until an hour later that Y/N finally began to stir.

Rhea and Finn both shot up, kneeling beside the bed as Fin gently stroked Y/N's cheek as she awoke. 

"What's going on?" Y/N asked groggily, thoroughly confused as hell and not knowing anything. After any normal nap, it takes a minute to even remember your own name, not to mention a nap after that kind of extreme emotional distress.

"We're just worried about you, sweetness," Rhea explained as gently as she could. If Y/N did actually have a concussion and didn't remember anything, she didn't want to freak her out any more than she possibly would already have.

"Why?" Y/N asked, gently pushing the two of them away form her to sit up and rub her eyes. In doing so, she felt the edge of her bandage and remembered everything. From losing the match, to making a truce with Bayley, to coming home and them not acknowledging her.

Rhea and Finn saw the look that overcame their girlfriend's face. Anger, betrayal, sadness.

She pushed them out of the way again, this time harder than any of them were expecting which sent the two flat on their asses as Y/N made a move to get out of bed.

"Woah, woah, woah. Where the hell do you think you're going?" Rhea immediately was on her feet and grabbed Y/N's arm to keep her from going any further. The look she received from Y/N before she pulled her arm out of her grip was scathing. 

"Nowhere that concerns you." She began to move towards the closet, starting to grab new clothes, seemingly to change into before she grabbed a bag and began stuffing the clothes in there.

"Y/N! What the hell is going on? Please, just talk to us!" Finn tried to reason with her. 

By now, the commotion had reached the ears of both Damian and Dominik downstairs and they raced up to the bedroom, just in time to hear their girlfriend's explanation.

"Talk to you? Talk to you?! I have been trying to talk to all four of you for weeks! And all I get in response is a thumbs up! Sometimes, not even every time!" She screamed, stepping out of the closet into full view of her partners. Clothes were left forgotten on the floor, and some half-hanging off their hangers as Y/N finally released all her pent-up emotions.

All four members of the Judgment Day stood in stunned silence as Y/N kept going, now unable to stop herself even if she tried.

"I was forcefully moved away from my partners, surrounded by people who hate me and then you four go out and have date nights without me. Constantly! I had a title match tonight against Bayley, we could've had two champions and you didn't even care! I lost because I hit my head and got a concussion and you don't care!" At this point, Y/N had started to grow emotional. Each word was a fight against the myriad of tears threatening to spill over.

The four of them felt awful, how could they have neglected their girl so badly for so long to get to this point?

"We're so sorry, cariño, we had no idea you even had a match last night-" Damian's attempts at an apology were cut off by Y/N.

"Of course you didn't! You never bother to talk to me anymore!" Her partners began to reach out for her as she started fully crying, the emotions winning this fight.

"I'm barely holding on," Y/N sobbed as she curled in on herself, rejecting any attempts at physical touch from her partners. "It's so bad, that my opponent had to come to my rescue after the match because no one else will even acknowledge me."

"Y/N," Dominik spoke, the sound of his heart breaking evident in his voice.

"No, just...don't," Y/N wrapped her arms around herself as she backed away from the four of them. 

The five partners stood around in silence, each member processing their emotions. 

Once Y/N's tears had slowed down, she wiped any remains off her face before facing her partners, who now surrounded her again. This time, however, they left a spot for her to escape.

"Hey, we're sorry, okay? But we promise to do better. This is new for all of us and we admittedly didn't handle it well but we're gonna fix that, alright?" Finn explained to her gently, so as not to scare her off.

"He's right, amor. We love you, so much. We'll do anything that you ask of us, please," Damian practically begged her.

Rhea and Dominik both clutched each other, tears streaming down their faces as they were both too choked up to speak, but they nodded in agreement to both of the boys' statements.

"Okay," Y/N broke down again, walking into the shared hug between the partners. They would make it up to her, just like they always did. Everything would be okay. They would be okay.

[tinytinyblogs]

Out? i don't think you need it, darling.

Yandere!skz react when you wanted to go out yourself

Hyung line, maknae line

Stray kids masterlist

Your insights and reactions make these posts come alive. Love reblogs, comments, and all the good vibes welcome ✨

Han

Han's laughter erupted like a thunderclap, filling every corner of the room with wild, unrestrained mirth. It grew louder and more maniacal as you meekly mentioned your desire to go out alone. His eyes sparkled with disbelief, as if you had just told the most absurd joke. "Why on earth would you want to do that, honey?" he choked out between giggles. His laughter echoed off the walls as he wiped tears from his eyes. "Oh, sweetie, you don't need to go out… You need me," he declared. His fingers brushed your cheek tenderly before he planted a kiss, leaving a chilling sense of his dominance. "You know you can never be away from me," he continued, his tone dripping with arrogance. To Han, the notion was beyond absurd—it was laughable. He lived in a delusional world where you were irrevocably his. The thought of you stepping out alone was the height of comedy for him. Why would you walk away when you'd inevitably yearn for his presence? He pulled you closer, locking you under his arm in a grip that felt both protective and suffocating. "You want more affection, don't you? I understand," he whispered, his voice a velvet trap.

"Now, let’s forget that ridiculous idea. I'll be your shadow, your guardian. I’ll watch over you every second." His words were a vow and a threat, his laughter now a distant memory as he settled into his role as your overseer. The room seemed to close in, making the outside world feel like an impossible dream. Han's grip tightened, his eyes boring into yours with possessiveness. "I know what's best for you," he murmured, soothing yet sinister. "You don't need anyone else. Just me. Always me." His certainty was unnerving, reflecting his deluded belief that your life revolved around him. He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "We'll be together forever. No need to venture out into that big, scary world when you have everything you need right here," he said, his voice a chilling blend of love and control. "Remember, you belong to me." The room felt smaller, the air heavier, as his presence engulfed you. His laughter had been replaced by cold determination. He was your protector, your jailer, your world. The idea of leaving, of stepping out into the unknown, was now a distant, laughable thought. Han's reality had become yours, and there was no escaping it.

Felix

He lay with his head nestled in your lap, a picture of serenity, his breaths slow and even. For a moment, everything seemed perfect—until you mentioned wanting to go out alone. The change was immediate. He sat up abruptly, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. He struggled to maintain a semblance of a smile, but his eyes betrayed his concern. "You know," he began, his voice low and urgent, "something bad might happen to you if you go out." His body tensed as he adjusted his position, sitting up straight, his posture rigid with anxiety. "I wouldn't let it happen," he vowed, the words coming out almost as a growl. "Don't go out, don't ever go out," he repeated, his tone laden with a mix of desperation and determination, as if the very idea of your leaving was the most reckless, absurd notion he had ever encountered. "Everything you need is here," he insisted, gesturing around the room as if it were a fortress against the chaos outside. "Comfort, safety, and me—your favorite person," he added, a touch of possessiveness creeping into his voice.

His eyes bore into yours, an intense, almost hypnotic stare that seemed to weave a spell around you. He was trying to reshape your desires, to make you see the world through his lens of protective fervor. And maybe, just maybe, he thought, if he spoke with enough conviction, you would understand. You would listen to him, wouldn't you? "You wouldn't go out, right?" he asked, his face drawing closer until you could feel his breath on your skin, his hand gently threading through your hair. There was an intensity in his eyes that made your heart race. "Tell me," he demanded, his voice soft but insistent. You slowly shook your head, indicating your agreement to stay. A slow, satisfied smile spread across his face as he leaned in to kiss your forehead, the gesture tender and reassuring. He then settled back down, his head resting in your lap once more. "Don't dare say those stupid words again, love," he murmured, his eyes fluttering shut. His voice dropped to a low, almost dangerous whisper, "Or I'll have no choice but to make sure you understand, even if it means using force." There was a finality to his words, a possessive edge that sent a shiver down your spine.

Seungmin

He fell silent when he heard you wanted to go out alone. His demeanor shifted, and he looked down at your hand, holding it gently as if afraid to let go. After a moment, he asked softly, "Why?" There was a vulnerability in his voice that hadn't been there before. "You don't like being with me?" His expression grew more forlorn as he spoke, the sadness in his eyes becoming more pronounced. "Am I not enough for you?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly. "Do I make you uncomfortable?" You tried to explain, your words coming out in a rush. You just wanted to buy something, nothing serious, just a quick errand. But your explanation seemed to fall on deaf ears. He continued to look down, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. As time ticked by, his eyes lifted to meet yours, now brimming with unshed tears. "Does being with me not make you happy?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. The raw emotion in his tone was unmistakable, and it cut through the air, making the room feel smaller and heavier.

Even though your intentions were innocent, his reaction was deeply emotional, leaving you feeling guilty and trapped between your need for a small bit of independence and his overwhelming fear of being left alone. As guilt slowly crept into your conscience, you found yourself holding him tighter, the conflicting desires to assert your independence and comfort him wrestling within you. With a sigh, you reluctantly pulled away, the urge to go out by yourself gradually diminishing in the face of his palpable need for reassurance. He sighed deeply, his tension seeming to melt away as you wrapped your arms around him. His embrace was warm and comforting, and he buried his face in the crook of your neck, seeking solace in your presence. But as you held him, something shifted in the air. You couldn't quite put your finger on it at first, but then you noticed it—the faintest hint of a smirk playing on his otherwise innocent face. It was a subtle expression, almost imperceptible, but it was there, lingering in the corners of his lips like a secret.

Jeongin

With a cute, fox-like smile adorning his features, he tilted his head slightly as he regarded you. "You want to go out by yourself?" he asked, his tone light and playful. You nodded in confirmation, expecting his smile to fade, but it persisted, almost unnervingly so. As you began to prepare yourself to leave, you noticed him quietly following your movements. "Jeongin, I'll go alone," you asserted, hoping to convey your desire for independence. However, despite your words, he continued to trail behind you, as if he hadn't heard you at all. It was only when you repeated yourself, a touch more firmly this time, that he drew nearer, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. In that fleeting moment, you could have sworn his gaze flickered, the usual warmth in his eyes giving way to something deeper, more profound. "Sometimes, I believe I treat you too well," he murmured, his voice a soft whisper that seemed to resonate within the depths of your soul. His hand tenderly caressed your cheek, the gesture simultaneously comforting and possessive.

"You can go anywhere you please, but it's rather bold of you to think I'd ever let you go alone. I'll always be here with you, no matter where your adventures take you. You know as well as I do that I could never bear to leave your side." His words hung in the air, laden with a mixture of affection and determination. Despite your initial intentions of seeking independence, you couldn't help but feel a sense of security in his unwavering presence. It was as if he were a steadfast guardian, always watching over you, ensuring your safety and happiness above all else. And as his reassuring touch lingered on your cheek, you couldn't deny the undeniable truth in his declaration—wherever you went, he would be there, a constant presence in your life, bound to you by an unbreakable bond of love and devotion. With that innocent smile gracing his features once more, he gently took your hand and resumed walking by your side. Amidst the admiring glances of passersby, who saw him as the epitome of the perfect partner, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more beneath the surface.

[adickaboutspoons]

Oh boy. Okay. Here we go

A totes calm and measured response to this post over here by @themetabridge. Forgiveness for the whole new post. I had too much to say to fit into what Tumblr apparently thinks is an appropriate length for a re-blog.

First? I mean. Text just means the words and actions as they are said and shown in a given piece of media being analyzed. Which is what I’m here to do with my meta – textual analysis. That’s why I insist on textual support for any argument interpreting the media in question. Naked assertions do nothing to explain how you arrived at your conclusion. Vibes aren’t good enough. Show me what IN THE TEXT made you think what you think, and I will do you the courtesy of the same. Otherwise, I don’t see how we could possibly have much to say to one another.

The fundamental breakdown we are having is that you have failed to provide a textual basis for why you think Ed is a bad person. While I respect your assertion that a person’s essential goodness is predicated on the actions that they perform, I cannot respect the corollary supposition that there are actions that are either “good” or “bad” in a vacuum, as this completely ignores circumstance and motivation. WHY someone does something is AT LEAST as important as WHAT they did.

For example - Stede killed Ned Lowe in cold blood. Does it matter that he did it because Ned “shit-talked [his] friend and damaged [his] ship,” and “fucked Calypso’s birthday”? Does it matter that Ed, the person whom Ned’s shit-talk actually impacted, told Stede not to do it? Twice? Does it matter that Ned was a subdued enemy combatant, and as such could have just as easily been gagged like Hornberry and the overtly racist Wellington, who survived imprisonment and went on to watch Ed and Stede sign the Act of Grace? Do we compare Ned to the French Captain who got flayed for his racist rhetoric, though Ned’s comment was, strictly speaking, about Ed’s class rather than his race? How far are we going to go to disentangle class and race when one absolutely informs the other?

How about a more straight-forward example; Stede set an unnamed man on fire and quipped about it like some asshole 80's action hero. Does it matter that he threatened Stede’s life? How about if, when he did so, he was twenty feet away, armed only with the bottle he had just broken over his head, and there were half-a dozen pirates between him and Stede who all thought Stede was hot shit, and so Stede was in no immediate danger? What if Stede has a long history of people making attempts on his life, and being unsure that he even deserves to live, and this is meant to show that, now that he has something to live for, he’s done with the part of his life where he lets anyone try to take that away from him?

This is what I mean when I say that the show is careful to never outright condemn the use of violence. The narrative tells us clearly that, within the context of the show, some things are more important than an unnamed or one-off character’s life – preservation of one’s own life or the lives of one’s loved ones, dignity in the face of racially-based persecution, resistance to colonial oppressors. The reasons for and direction of violence matters. Context matters.

And speaking of context, you misunderstand me when you suppose that only what literally appears before our eyes counts can be “read into the text”. I refuse to give extra-textual sources of information (such as the historical reality of sergeant recruiters and being pressed into service or the historical Golden Age of Piracy) any weight unless they can be validated by in-text support, because the show itself cares fuck-all about historical accuracy. But extrapolations about the in-show universe based on in-text support are fine.

So, considering that the very first thing we hear in the show is Frenchie’s little ditty about the violent reality of a pirate’s life, and considering Jack’s comment at brekkie about how pirating is an "ugly profession”, and considering what we see of the raids in 1x5 and 2x2, we can reasonably conclude that pirate culture is steeped in toxic masculinity where the expectation of performing violence is de rigueur. Because Ed has carved out a successful reputation as Blackbeard, and because we see the ease with which he can go from being casually conversant with Stede to “giving it some oomph” to scare the location of the treasure out of the French captain in 1x5 with the THREAT of violence, we can reasonably conclude that he can successfully perform the required violent displays of piratical society (or at least, given that we know by his bathtub confession that he has not personally killed anyone since his father, he can adopt a convincing enough posturing that no one would doubt he COULD). From his interactions with Jack and familiarity with “yardies” and “whippies”, and his ruminations about “the old days” of “drinking all day and biting the heads off turtles or making some poor bloke eat his own toes for a laugh”, and Fang’s assertion that Ed made him kill his dog, we can reasonably assume that Ed has a history with casual violence for the sake of fun and cruelty for cruelty’s sake.

However.

I think “the old days” is an important qualifier there. Season 1 Izzy may be frustrated that Ed is not performing Blackbeard sufficiently well to suit him (on that point we can agree), but even by his own deathbed confession “for YEARS I egged [him] on, even though I knew [Ed] had outgrown [the Blackbeard persona]” (emphasis mine, and pin in that for a moment). In 2x1, Fang is crying into his cake saying “I’ve never seen Blackbeard like this” - indicating that the conditions of the Kraken era are NOT the norm. The slivers of Ed we see in 1x3 before the Spanish raid are marked by him speaking calmly and rationally to Izzy (in stark contradiction to Izzy’s insistence that he’s half-mad) never even raising his voice much less using threats or any actual violence to get Izzy to do what he wants. In fact, it is Izzy who suggests a course of action involving very normative piratical violence (“Do we open fire? Or would you rather we just attack them, kill them, throw them out to the sharks, sir?”), which Ed counters with a genteel proposition - inviting (not even ordering!) Stede aboard for a face-to-face meeting. Izzy being comfortable enough to push back against orders (“Oh, Edward, can’t I just send the boys?”) even suggests that he feels no threat from Ed at all. Every indication is that by the time we meet Ed, well before he ever meets Stede, he’s already well past done with violence for violence sake.

When Ed does meet with Stede, before he’d fallen in love (Even though the are the U-Hauliest, I would argue “fascination” with a possible side of “infatuation”, but certainly not yet love), one of the early conversations they have is about the depiction of Blackbeard in Stede’s book of pirates. Ed expresses revulsion and anger that the persona that he’s worked so hard to cultivate has been twisted into a hyper-violent parody - a “Vampire Viking Clown” that’s barely even human, with a head of smoke and overladen with weapons and hardly bears any resemblance to the real man. We’re meant to understand that this is not a valid or accurate representation of who he is. Violence is a normative part of pirate life, but he has “one knife, and one gun JUST LIKE EVERYBODY ELSE” (emphasis mine, again) - he doesn’t shirk from using the tools of violence when it’s necessary, but he is NOT excessively or wantonly violent. 

And we SEE the evidence of this because of how Stede reacts to the way Ed acts around Jack. Jack keeps Ed drunk all day, decoupling his inhibitions from his decision-making processes and, in spite of Ed explicitly saying that he’s mellowed out, Jack eggs him into the kind of hyper-violent Jackassery that is excessive even for pirate society if the nervous reactions of Stede’s crew are any indication. Of course, this is all part of Jack’s plan - to manipulate both Ed and Stede and force them apart - and the reason that it works is because the way Ed acts around Jack is NOT the way he chooses to act under his own volition, hence Stede’s frustration and disappointment.

While I agree that piratical violence is not political praxis, I would argue that, considering that every raid we have witnessed Ed participate in has been against a representative of colonial power and, more often than not, specifically the enforcing arm thereof, it’s not unfair to conclude that Ed’s reasoning goes that if piratical violence is to be done, better against someone who deserves it than not - i.e. those who perpetuate the violence of colonialism. Regarding instances of violence outside the context of raids, here’s where we take that pin out of Izzy. Izzy and Ed are locked in a cycle of abuse over the first season, wherein Izzy decides that Ed is not Blackbearding hard enough, and, because he feels entitled to controlling Ed’s actions, bullies and harasses him into capitulating  - typically in the form of performing violence. Afterwards, Izzy performs some form of deference - apologizing and/or acting as though he’s going to leave, which Ed “talks him down from” and mercifully allows him to stay. It’s why, when Ed sees Izzy packing up a dinghy (lol. With what? It’s not like he’s on his own ship or would have brought his things with him, or sacked plunder from the Revenge. Clearly he was just stalling until Ed noticed him and swooped in to do his part of the cycle) he tells Stede he “should deal with this,” as though it’s tedious, but normal occurrence. I think an important part of this cycle as the season progresses, though, is how Izzy keeps upping the stakes.

So by the time we get to the end of the season, when the last iteration of the cycle starts up again (when Ed is once more insufficiently Blackbearding by being emotionally vulnerable and open with the crew following his return to the Revenge and his stint in the pillow fort (note that Izzy is apparently FINE with Ed not being Peak Pirate, just as long as he hides it away from everyone), and Izzy once more bullies and threatens Ed) this time it is especially cruel - Izzy is a thumb in the wound, attacking Ed at his most vulnerable and saying it would be better if Ed was DEAD than “pining for his boyfriend.” This iteration now also brings with it a history of escalation (first in Izzy bringing Fang and Ivan in to force Ed's hand about killing Stede, lest he look "weakened by the love of a pet" before his crew, and therefore in danger of mutiny, and then by bringing in the British Navy to force Ed to take Izzy back - or rather, to force Izzy back into Ed's life because the terms of the agreement see Ed remanded into Izzy's custody as though he is property to be distributed at the will of the Brits) - an established pattern of the lengths to which Izzy will go to get what he wants, and so a very real threat implicit in Izzy’s warning that “Ed had better watch his step” as Izzy serves only Blackbeard. So Ed gives him what he wants. He Blackbeards it up just like Izzy insisted, and lets Izzy know in no uncertain terms that the insubordination is done. It’s not a "frat boy prank" when he cuts off Izzy’s toe and feeds it to him, or even something from which he's deriving pleasure as he might have in the old days; it’s a calculated, proportional response, done under duress and against his own inclinations, but exactly the tool required to get the message across clearly.

As to the question of why it matters if Ed is bad, first and foremost, because saying that he is bad requires you to explicitly read contrary to the text. If you’re not going to engage with the text on its own terms, I don’t see how you can do any analysis of what story it’s trying to tell. I already discussed the ways in which the narrative is specifically about how Ed is NOT bad, even when he himself thinks he is. I have also discussed how, while “violence is never the answer” may be broadly understood to be the correct way of comporting oneself in real life, the show never condemns violence across the board. The show condemns cruelty, both on an interpersonal and societal level, but positions the use of violence as an acceptable and reasonable response thereunto. It treats circumstance and motivation with nuance and weight. Living within this context, Ed’s use of violence by the time we meet him is well within the normative acceptable application thereof. Judging him by standards outside the context of the story within which he exists makes as much sense as judging the Stede from the show for being a slave owner because that’s historical fact - that’s just not applicable to who he is in THIS story.

But more importantly, it matters because Ed is a POC character. Describing him as “cruel and perverse” for utilizing violence, particularly when the violence he uses is NOT excessive or impulsive, perpetuates negative race-based stereotypes about hyper-violent men of color. Characterizing him as “bad” for his use of violence when other (white) characters, such as Stede, use violence in similar ways, or are cruel or petty, but can still be considered, on balance, “good” means that Ed is being held to a different, higher standard than those white characters, and perpetuates the frankly racist criteria of expecting POC exceptionalism for POCs to be considered for the base-line assumptions of acceptability that are afforded to their white counterparts. Saying that Stede’s love is what changed Ed’s behavior from cruelty to wholesale abandoning piratical principles is not only antithetical to what actually happens in the show, but suggests a read that POC Ed needs a good white man to show him how to behave, a real white knight to tame his savage heart. That’s some real White Man’s Burden shit there, bro. I highly recommend you put it down.

[builtbybrokenbells]

Melodic Memories | Track 2: Wonderful Tonight - Eric Clapton

In a tattered old box shoved deep down in the corner of an overfilled closet, a lifetimes worth of memories lie dormant at the bottom waiting to be rediscovered.

Masterlist

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 17k

Warnings: sadness, heartbreak, crying, high school breakups, unrequited love, estranged parent/strained parental relationships, angst, anger, bickering, name calling, depression, anxiety, self doubt/self consciousness, swearing, flirting, fluff, mentions of hookups/casual sex, sorry if I miss any!

Jake’s POV | Italy, 9:32am

“Come on, Josh. Wake the fuck up.” You muttered, your knuckles beginning to ache from the constant knocking on his door. The one time you needed him, the only time you woke before him was today, when you were stuck facing the most important task of your entire life. “Josh! Let me in!” You shouted, unable to care about disturbing the neighbors sound asleep in the rooms next to him.

Amidst another frantic round of knocking, the door swung open, causing you to stumble forward slightly. Josh stood on the other side, half-dressed with damp hair and a look of clear annoyance on his face. It was apparent he had been awake for a while, and he was actively ignoring your attempts to speak to him. You gave him a half-smile, the expression forced as you tried to upkeep some sense of normalcy despite the anxiety begging to take over.

“Can I help you?” He asked, trying his hardest to stay friendly, even if he wanted to snap.

“Yes, you can.” You nodded, pushing past him and walking into his room without an invitation.

“Come on in, I guess.” Josh raised his hands in exasperation, pushing the door shut as he turned to face you. “It’s not like I have a life, or things to do, or anything like that.”

“Okay, Josh. Can we put the dramatics to the side for a second?” You rolled your eyes. “I need you. This is important.”

As much as you loved your brother, you couldn’t help but get annoyed with his constant need to challenge you and everyone around him. His personality, which was loveable most days, was intolerable at times, but it never usually lasted long. He liked things to happen a certain way, and his strict schedule was key for him to have a good day. If either of those things were disturbed, he could become particularly hard to deal with. Even so, you still needed advice, and he was the only person in the world you trusted with a situation like such.

You could smell the incense lingering in the air, the smoke still hazy in the room under the morning sun pooling from the windows. There was a mat laying on the floor at the foot of his bed, and his trusty handbook to self enlightenment and guided meditations laid atop the mat. You had interrupted his most precious moment of the day, but you were distraught enough to deem your issues more important than his ‘zen’, as he would call it.

He could see the look of desperation in your eyes, the nervous energy surrounding you as you paced the room. Your hands were fidgeting with themselves, occasionally trailing to the hem of your shirt. The crease above your brow was evident, a clear sign of distress, and he too came to terms with the fact that your predicament was more pressing than his morning routine.

“Okay, brother.” He said, grabbing his shirt from the end of the mattress and slipping it over his head. “Just… calm down a little bit, would you? You’re messing up the vibes in here.”

“Oh, would you shove it?” You huffed, pushed your hair from your forehead with your palm, looking towards the ceiling as you tried to gather your racing thoughts. “I don’t care about your fucking vibes, Josh. It smells like the basement of an old church in here, and you look like a fuckin’ idiot.” Normally, the patchouli scent would be a calming experience, reminding you of your brother as soon as it reached your nose and prompting a smile on your face immediately. Now, it just seemed to further irritate your already troubled mind.

“Ouch.” He hummed, crouching down to roll up the yoga mat. “Truth hurts, I guess.” He conceded, understanding that his short fuse was no match for yours when it came down to it. Over the last few years it had only grown worse, and there was only one thing it was accredited to; your burgeoning loneliness and refusal to move on and accept reality.

Six years ago, the world stopped turning. Six years ago, almost to date, you lost the only thing you ever wanted to keep.

Still, after so long and so many different cities, after the plethora of different girls in your bed used to mend a hole in your heart that only ever seemed to grow larger, she was the very thing you thought of when you had a moment to wander. Her face existed behind your eyes when they closed, her laugh plagued your dreams, what once was sweet music now turning into a haunting song that forever followed you, and her memory existed so profoundly that you could feel her fingertips graze your skin and her lips pressed against yours.

The one that got away, or whatever the fuck people said to explain the biggest mistake of your entire life. She was the one thing that forced you out of bed in the morning, the very thing that lulled you to sleep at night, and the reason behind every breath in between. Even after so long, still being amidst radio silence, completely estranged from the reason your heart continued to beat, she was the only person in the world that mattered. You had come to believe that it would always be this way, and you would be stuck hopelessly pining over someone who no longer knew you. You had come to terms with it, accepted it even, despite it still hurting like a bitch.

Until today. Until six hours ago.

Asleep, caught in another dream about the sweetness of her love and the light of her heart, you expected to wake in the morning in agony, just like you did so many times before. You dreaded opening your eyes only to mourn a loss that should have never happened, to face a pain that had no reason to hurt so damn bad, but this morning was different.

You awoke, and instead of being caught in a constant cycle of misery, longing to know if she dreamt of you too, you were faced with the most beautiful shift in the universe. Her name, still ‘sunshine’ in your phone because she was the warmth of a summer day and the joy of a bright afternoon, sat on your notification bar waiting to be noticed. After six years wasted waiting on something you never thought you would see again, it was right there, waiting for you.

Unfortunately, you had thought about it so much that you seemed completely stuck on what to say. Your only dream aside from the one you were already living came to fruition, through no action of your own, and it turned your whole world upside down. You imagined all you would tell her, the things you would confess after having six years to bargain with it. You had questions, you needed answers to things you couldn’t possible stand to learn, but none of it seemed right.

What could you say to ensure you wouldn’t send her running all over again?

That’s where Josh came in, a level head with an (annoyingly) good stress response. The world could be on fire, and he would be by your side to talk you through it, even if it was mostly incoherent rambling that used far too many complicated words. You wondered if he even had an answer to your troubles, or if he would point you in the same direction of his infuriating need to trust the universe. Would he allow himself to snap out of it for a moment and set you straight, or would he force you to rely on your own prerogative, motioning with his hands to frame an abstract picture that relied heavily upon imagination and intuition?

That was a risk you were willing to take, a fear that was so unimportant that it was near obsolete, even if the latter might cause your already short fuse to blow. Josh was the only person you trusted, your twin who knew what you were thinking before you ever said it aloud. He was your best friend, your confidant, and the only person who knew the extent of your love for the woman on the opposite end of the phone. If he couldn’t help, nobody could, and although you had a tendency to brush off his (mostly) unsolicited advice, you were in dire need of it, now. Even if it would not solve the problem, it would at least give you a chance to speak your feelings aloud. From there, maybe you could sort through them.

“What has gotten you in such a twist?” Josh asked, now intrigued by your far-away stare and obvious disarray. “We have a whole day to ourselves, in Italy, Jacob. The country of love, with art and music and literature. There’s so much to see, so much to learn. If this is about the faulty wire in your amp, we can forget about that for today.” He rambled, his arms outstretched as he accentuated his point with his hands. “And if it is because of that, we can forget about that for good. You’ve bitched about it enough.”

A country of love.

How fucking ironic.

“So, tell me brother, what is it?” He sighed, raising an eyebrow at you as he awaited a response. “Unless it’s about the amp, then please don’t. For my sake, keep that to yourself.”

“It’s not about the fucking amp!” You snapped, your hand flying away from your forehead in exasperation. You couldn’t handle listening to him complain about such nonsense when your entire world felt like it was falling apart.

Or, mending back together.

You weren’t sure which it was, but you did know that no matter what it turned out to be, both seemed just as painful.

“Oookay.” Josh nodded, stepping towards the TV stand and leaning against it. He casted a lingering glance in your direction, eager to hear you correct him on the matter. “Are you going to tell me, or just pace around my hotel room?” You gritted your teeth, knowing that to him, the situation didn’t seem that serious at all because you couldn’t find the strength to say it aloud. Instead of verbally responding, you fished out your phone from your pocket, extending your arm as an invitation for him to see it for himself.

He stepped forward, grabbing it from your hand with no further statements. He turned the screen towards himself, tapping it and watching as it came to life. He skipped over the surplus of Instagram notifications, ignoring the text from your tech telling you the amp was back in working condition, and landed on the one thing that seemed out of place.

“I see.” He hummed, almost as surprised as you were at the sight. “Certainly wasn’t expecting that.”

“Yeah, you and me both.” You muttered, running a hand through your hair again. You were consumed with stress, but it was joined by a nagging sense of relief that you hadn’t felt in a long while. Her company came with an otherworldly sense of peace, even if it completely threw you off course and uprooted your entire life.

“What is it with her, Jake?” Josh asked, making a move to hand your phone back to you. “She was my friend, too. I get it, but you’re still so caught up on her six years after she left.”

“What is it?” You echoed his words, appalled that he would even say such a thing. “She’s it, man. She’s everything. I’m ‘caught up’ because even after six years, I haven’t met anyone that compares to her.”

“Right.” Josh gave a little nod, watching as you clutched your phone tightly in his hand. “Is it because she’s really that person for you, or do you think that all of the childhood wonder will wear off once she’s back around?” Your eyebrows furrowed in anger, floored that after all Josh heard you say about her in your whole life, he could denounce your connection to ‘childhood wonder.’

“It feels like the sun is shining, again.” You said, calm as you spoke in hopes of getting your point across clearly. “For six years, it felt dark. I forgot what it felt like to be warm, and I got so used to life being cold that I started to think that it was normal. Then, suddenly, I wake up to her name on my phone, and it’s bright outside. The birds are chirping, the leaves look greener, and the sun is shining.” You said, making sure to add the extra pronunciation to the last few words, just so he understood the extent of your feelings on the matter. “It’s been so long I almost forgot how much I missed it, Josh.” He stayed silent for a moment, an irritating smile on his lips as he processed your confession.

“I know.” He said, agreeing as if he never questioned it at all. “I think you just needed to hear yourself say it out loud.”

You opened your mouth to speak, confused and irritated with Josh’s approach to the situation. You were unsure why he thought you needed to say it aloud to yourself, because it was the only thing you had thought about in the six years you spent apart.

“Listen to yourself,” he urged. “You’re in here, freaking out over something that you dream about every night. She’s still thinking about you, and I’m sure she’s not just saying it for the sake of it. Stop overthinking it. You know her, and you know what to do. If she’s reaching out after this long, I’m sure she feels the same way you do.” Josh didn’t ask the questions because he was on the fence about your love for her, but rather so you would pry into your own heart and find the answer yourself. He knew your fears, your hesitancy and your uncertainty, but more than anything, he knew how much you loved her.

“But what do I say?” You pressed further, unable to break yourself from your relentless thoughts.

“Say hello, Jake. You waited this long to talk to her, so just say hello.” He chuckled, shaking his head at you. “She wants to talk to you, Jake. Not me.”

“I know,” you sighed, finally feeling your rapid heartbeat subside into a normal rhythm. You really didn’t need Josh’s help at all; you’ve always known how to talk to her, what to say to make her smile and what to do to make her laugh. You just needed someone to listen, to tell you your fear was ridiculous, and that’s exactly what he did. “I’m just scared I’ll fuck it up. I lost her once, man, I can’t handle losing her again.”

“You never really lost her, Jake. Life just got in the way. If you lost her, she wouldn’t be here now, texting you to say she misses you.” You swallowed hard, digesting the truth as you looked back down at the message. He was right, and you were being stupid. One of the reasons you loved her so dearly was because the relationship between you was always easy, just like the love that came along with it. You were making things harder for yourself when there was no real need to do it. “Now, go take a shower and clear your head, and text her back. I wouldn’t wait too long, brother.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” You huffed, your eyes squeezing shut as you tried to force the anxiety out of your head. “Thank you.”

“That’s what I’m here for.” He grinned. “Now, get out of here and go get your girl.”

Her POV | Michigan, 3:51am

The silence was deafening, but for the first time in a long time, it was comforting rather than menacing. The mattress below you was inviting, the sheets cool and the scent familiar. Sandalwood, amber, sweet and soft but just enough to notice it before anything else. It was undeniably beautiful, undeniably home. You took a deep breath, wanting to savor the air around you. It was thick with summer heat, the smell of the trees and the grass hanging heavy within it. You felt lighter than ever before, not even the stickiness of the humidity was able to put a damper on your mood. It had been many moons since you found yourself waking in that room with Jake’s cologne clinging to your skin.

You were alone, still a divot in the mattress from where he laid next to you, but he was nowhere in sight. You looked around the room, your eyes darting to every corner in hopes of finding him there, but it became abundantly clear that you were looking in all the wrong places. You climbed out of bed, looking down at the clothes you were wearing, noticing you adorned a pair of sweatpants that were never yours, even though you wore them like they were. The faded t-shirt that hung from your body had faded lettering, the shadow telling you it once was a Jimi Hendrix logo.

The scene was so beautiful, something you’d lived a hundred times, yet it was so different than what it once was. As your feet carried you to the door of his bedroom, the wooden panels of the floor were frigid, shooting daggers of chill through your body with every step you took. You felt like you could see everything in pristine detail, but at the same time, the corners were fuzzy and the long-distance hazy. You reached out to open the door, following the motion but struggling to complete the task.

After a short struggle, you stepped into the hallway, in search of a boy you weren’t sure you would ever find. You were in his house, but it seemed barren, far too empty and much too quiet. It was dark, so unlike the warmth and light it radiated when you visited so many times before. You took small strides down the hallway, noticing it seemed much longer than it should. When you reached the stairs, you began to notice the familiar pictures on the walls. Family photos, pictures of the boy you loved so dearly, but you couldn’t make out the small details. You tried to focus your efforts, to catch a glimpse of the blinding smile and sparkling brown eyes, but it was all lost on you.

In the distance, far away and barely noticeable, you heard an echo of giggles and the soft sounds of music playing through a phone. It was eerily reminiscent of a memory you held so close to your heart, and you felt your feet automatically begin to follow the sound. The stairs were steep, difficult to navigate in the burgeoning darkness, but you persisted despite the struggle. When your feet hit the cool linoleum of the kitchen floor, you peeked your head around the corner, not daring to disturb the bodies inside and desperate to remain hidden.

In the low light, only the moon filtering in through the window, you saw two bodies close together. A lump formed in your throat, a wave of grief washing over you as you noticed Jake’s hands on the girls hips and her arms wrapped around his neck. Who was she, and why was she so close to him? Why was he letting her get so close while you slept so soundly in his bed?

As you continued to inspect the scene, you could hear them whispering to each other, joyus and giddy as they professed their love for each other. You couldn’t make out the words, nor could you see her face, but your stomach was sick and your chest was burning with indignation. The music playing from his phone was unclear, distant and almost recognizable when you focused all of your attention on it, but it was impossible to pry your eyes away from the picture of the two.

The cuffs of the sweatpants on her legs were rolled up, the pants too large to fit her, much like the ones you were wearing in the same moment. Your eyes trailed to her ankle, noticing a braided tri-toned thread knotted around the limb. You blinked hard, trying to get a better look. When she turned to the side ever so slightly, you noticed letter beads hanging from the handmade anklet.

Three beads, too small for you to read, but you knew it all too well.

You fell to your knees, the sickness in your stomach taking over your entire body. The music on the speaker grew louder, pounding in your ears and making it impossible to block it out. You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t speak, and you couldn’t bear to stand witness to the moment any longer. The love in his eyes was overwhelming, staring down at her like she was the only thing to ever exist. His lips mouthed the words of the song, like he was singing it to her as the two of them swayed in time with the slow beat. It was unmistakable, the anklet on her leg adorning the initials for yours and his first name, a heart stuck between them. The sweatpants were to big on her because they were his, and his clothes had always been too big for you. The song, irritatingly loud cemented the reality in your mind that the woman was no stranger.

She was you, and you couldn’t recognize the scene because you’d never once seen the love in his eyes from a distance. It was so easy to overlook when you were standing close to him, but as you watched him love you, it was unmistakable and hard to ignore how much he truly did.

“I told you I couldn’t dance.” He said, his tone soft as he pulled you closer to him. You were standing at a distance, watching him say the words to you as if you were a third party rather than the woman he was speaking to, but you could hear him like he was next to you, whispering in your ear.

“I think you’re doing a great job, baby.” Your voice was different, softer and higher. There was an airiness in your words, a tone you hadn’t adorned in many years. Love was dripping from your lips, and you didn’t recognize the sound because he was the last person you ever spoke to like such.

“Yeah? You think?” He smirked, pulling away from you ever so slightly. He reached for your hand, holding it tightly in his own as he spun you around. You erupted in a fit of giggles, only worsening as he grabbed you by your waist and pulled you back into him.

“I do, bug.” You promised, watching as one of his hands snaked up your back. Before you could process it, he dipped you down, leaning down with you as he pressed his mouth to yours. For a moment, you feared the two of you would lose your balance and topple over. As you watched, you could practically feel the warmth and safety wash over you despite his hands being on a completely different version of you. You envied yourself in the moment, aching to remember what his lips felt like on your own. Watching it unfold in real time was equal to torture, making you realize just how long it had been since you felt so at peace with the world.

When he pulled away, his lips continued hovering over your own, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. The sound of the music swirled around the two of you, freezing you in a time frame you so badly wanted to revisit. Just when you thought it couldn’t be more precious, the gentle sound of his singing filled your ears.

“I feel wonderful

Because I see the love light in your eyes

And the wonder of it all

Is that you just don’t realize how much I love you.”

He pulled you back upright, your head resting on his shoulder and your eyes closed in bliss. You were crying, not the version of you wrapped up in his arms, but the one facing such torture as you watched it unfold. You wondered how the same person could face such a sharp, double edged sword, reveling in the beauty of his love and aching at the loss of it. If only you knew then how bad it would hurt when you left, you might have been more stingy with your heart.

No, not even then. You would have done it a million times over, faced the pain every time in exchange for a single second of his love. It was worth every second of the hurt, but you feared you might not survive it if it carried on with the same intensity.

“Have I told you that you look wonderful tonight?” He asked, his hand holding the back of your head in fear you might pull away. If he could, he would have lived in the moment for the rest of his life, never needing anything other than you beside him.

Before you could answer, the song was interrupted by the annoying chirp of a text tone. Your attention was pulled away, wondering who dared intrude on such a cherished memory. As you turned to look back, the text tone chimed again, and the sight before you began to fade away. The two bodies became washed out in the darkness, barely noticeable anymore. You bolted forward, your hand outstretched as if you could grab them and pull them back. You wanted to keep watching, to keep reliving the pain and the pleasure all balled into one. Before you could reach them, they were gone completely, and the kitchen began to fade around you as the phone continued to ring. Tears were falling from your eyes, an agonizing pain taking hold as you lost sight of the moment for the second time in your life.

You woke with a start, your throat dry and your head aching. You made a move to brush the hair from your face, noticing your cheeks were damp with tears. You had been crying in real time, an automatic response to the visuals in your dreams. You let out a long breath, trying to straighten your thoughts out as you looked to your best friend, fast asleep beside you and completely unbothered. Then, a text tone filled the hair, making you jump in surprise. The sound in the dream must have been your phone going off next to you, you deducted. You picked up your phone, unplugging it from the charger and turning on your side so you could read the notification that disrupted your sleep.

You blinked hard, squinting at the bright light as it hurt your eyes. Sleepiness still plagued your vision, making it difficult to interpret the words despite the screen being inches away from your face. Finally, after what seemed like forever, the blurriness lessened and allowed for you to read what it said.

Your stomach dropped, your mind racing immediately upon noticing who the text was from, and in an instant you were wide awake. Careful not to disturb Mel, you sat upright, the blankets still covering your legs as they fell from your chest. There was no way in the world that he actually replied, and for a moment, you thought it was your mind playing tricks on you after waking up from such a tragic dream. When you continued to stare and the words before you remained the same, a flutter of excitement took hold.

Jake ❤️ - 3:57am

Hey, stranger :)

You let out a long breath, calming your racing heart as you wondered where to go from there. You weren’t even expecting the text to go through, let alone for him to respond. At the very most, you thought someone else would reply, sorrowly informing you that Jake no longer had the number. You had no idea how to respond, no idea where to go from there. You had waited so long to see his name grace your screen, desperately wanting to talk to him but knowing you should stay away. You were terrified of disrupting his life, intruding on something he’d worked so hard to build. You didn’t want to bring back any pain for him, or stand in the way of anything good beginning to blossom. After so long, you didn’t want to hurt him any more than you already had.

Now that he responded, eagerly greeting you and your melancholic message, you wondered if Mel was right and he’d been waiting to hear from you all this time, scared of all the same things.

You pulled your legs towards you, sitting cross legged as you found yourself stuck in that train of thought. As you did so, Ozz, who had been sleeping soundly by your feet, let out a small ‘mrph’, letting you know he was discontent with your sudden movement. You wondered if you should wake the girl sleeping soundly beside you to consult her for advice, but you decided against it. You hadn’t even told her you messaged him yet, and you couldn’t face her wrath so early in the morning, knowing her emotions would be amplified tenfold from being woken up mid-slumber.

Jake ❤️ - 3:59am

Thinking of me, eh? After all this time?

Your lips upturned into a small smile as the second message came through, the words so in character for him. You could practically hear the tone of voice he would have said it in. Your anxiety seemed to flee you as you clicked onto his contact, opening up the text thread.

You - 4:00am

Guess some things never change.

You watched as the delivered notification changed to read, signifying he was sitting in the chat, waiting for your response. The grey bubble popped up, three dots letting you know he was amidst a reply, and you felt the same giddiness as you did at fifteen, texting him for the very first time.

Jake ❤️ - 4:01am

Could have fooled me. Thought you forgot all about me.

You - 4:01am

Never, Jake.

You - 4:02am

Just because I never reached out, doesn’t mean I stopped thinking of you.

Jake ❤️ - 4:03an

I know, sweetheart. Guess it just never got any easier.

At that, you were certain your heart broke in two. He really had been thinking of you all this time, hurting just the same. He was the same Jake, just older and a little wiser, the same as you were. No matter how many numbers decorated your age, neither of you ever stopped caring.

Jake ❤️ - 4:05am

Can I call you? So much I want to catch up on.

You froze, unsure if you should say yes. You wanted to hear his voice, to learn everything you missed out on while you forced yourself away. You wanted to see his smiling face, to know what he looked like after all of this time. You looked to Mel, not wanting to disturb her while she slept, but knowing you couldn’t leave him hanging. You’d done it one too many times, breaking your own heart every time you pushed him away. It felt like fate, finding that box buried underneath so many different things from your childhood. It felt like fate that he still had the same number, and that he responded to the unsolicited message you sent in a moment of weakness.

You - 4:08am

Yes, please. Just give me a second.

You slid out of bed as carefully as you could, sneaking off to the hallway with your phone clutched tightly in your hand. You rounded the corner into the bathroom, flipping the light on as you sat your phone on the counter. You brushed your teeth and washed your face, quickly combing through the mess of tangled hair atop your head. When you looked presentable and felt awake, you flicked off the light and walked downstairs. Staying quiet so not to disturb anyone else, you walked to the couch in the living room and flipped on the lamp beside it. You curled up under the blanket still laying in a pile on one of the cushions, the hum of the air conditioner sending a chill through you.

When you situated yourself, you unlocked your phone and clicked on his contact. For a moment, your finger hovered over the FaceTime button, an abundance of anxiety plaguing you as you realized this was it. This was the moment you dreamed of so many times before, and it was finally a reality. You spent years aching to hear his voice again, to see his smile and that familiar sparkle in his eye. You wondered why it was so hard to follow through, to accept the reality with open arms. You needed it, but it was a million times more difficult than you ever thought it would be.

What if he got on the call and told you that he had a girlfriend, or worse yet, he was married? What if the call didn’t mean the same to him as it did to you, and you were a fool for thinking it did? What if, worst of all, he was in search of closure and you were in search of rekindling? You couldn’t hear the thought of letting him go now, especially after feeling the high of seeing his face again. You couldn’t bear the idea of letting him go, and you didn’t even have him yet.

“Stop it, Y/N.” you scolded, shaking yourself out of the thought. You were being ridiculous, thinking too far into the simple interaction. There was no way Jake would entertain a late night phone call with you if there was someone else sleeping in his bed; he’d never been that kind of person, and he never would be. He wouldn’t ask to call if he didn’t really want to talk to you, and he wouldn’t have responded if you didn’t still take up space in his brain.

You had to live in the moment, rather than the past, and more importantly, the future your anxious thoughts were creating with zero proof of anything. You needed to talk to him, just so you could ease your mind and put the overwhelming thoughts to rest. It was Jake, and he’d always been your light in the dark, and your rationale when things got crazy. You’d never been afraid to talk to him before, and you needn’t be so afraid now, even if it had been an agonizingly long time.

You swallowed your fear and clicked on the video icon, the screen immediately changing to the FaceTime dial screen. The low ringing sounded in your ears, but you didn’t have much time to regret your decision. Within seconds, he had accepted the call and your screen was connecting to his phone. After what seemed like an eternity, the full view appeared, and it felt like you had been punched in the stomach. Your heart stopped momentarily, and your eyes welled with tears just at the sight of him.

He was just as beautiful as you remembered, if not more so, now. He’d grown into an adult, his cheeks filled out and his eyes decorated with small wrinkles as he smiled. His upper lip had a mustache growing in, sending a shiver down your spine as you came to terms with how good he looked with it. The brown of his irises still knocked the air from your lungs, and the pinkness of his lips sent your stomach twisting with emotion. He was dressed, a button up long sleeved shirt from what you could tell, the top slightly undone so you could see a flash of his chest. There was a pendant hanging from a chain around his neck, drawing your attention to the tanned skin below it.

Worst of all, his hair was still slightly damp, like he’d showered not long before he messaged you, and it was long. It hung well past his shoulders, just like he always wanted it to, just like you always imagined it would.

“Hi, sunshine.” His voice was quiet, soft as he seemed to be admiring the sight before him the same as yourself. You couldn’t help but notice the difference in his tone, his voice deeper and a little more gravelly than it was before. He was a man, grown up and so different from the boy you knew in high school, but he was the same. You spent so long fearful that if you did run into him again, you wouldn’t recognize him at all, but he was the very same person you fell in love with so long ago, just a little older now.

“Hi, Jake.” You breathed, your cheeks rosy just from his beauty alone. The nickname on his lips sounded right, so perfect and something you’d longed to hear for years. The corners of his lips upturned into a smile, as if you’d granted him the greatest gift just by saying his name. “You look so different… So good.” You corrected yourself, biting down on the inside of your lip. “Your hair.”

“You like it?” He asked, turning his head slightly so you could get a better view. A blinding smile lit up his face, making the scene all the more precious. “Always told you I’d do it, someday.”

“I love it.” You whispered, your eyes soft and your face encased in a smile that matched his own. “I always hoped you’d actually do it. I knew it would suit you.”

“You look beautiful, sunshine.” He said, his eyes refocusing on the screen as he studied your face. “Just the same as you did all those years ago.” Your heart fluttered at the compliment, your rosy cheeks turning crimson in an instant.

“Thank you,” you squeaked, overcome with excitement as you truly grasped the situation. Your eyes floated around the screen, trying your best to place his location. Your eyebrows furrowed as you realized he wasn’t sitting underneath artificial light, and the glow of his face was because of natural sunlight flowing in through the windows. “Is it… is it daytime, where you are?” You asked, only slightly confused as you awaited his answer. You didn’t think about how much six years could change, and you understood that he could be anywhere in the world, now.

“Yeah,” he nodded, his head turning towards the window. “Oh, fuck, sweetheart. I was so excited to hear from you, I didn’t even think of the time difference.” He exclaimed, looking back to you with a hint of panic written on his face. “It’s gotta be late at home. Did I wake you up?”

“Don’t apologize, please.” You shook your head. “It is late, but it’s okay. I’m so happy to talk to you that I don’t even care.” You explained further, hoping to squash any bit of guilt he had over the fact. “So if it’s daytime, where are you? I think that’s the better question.” You grinned, already moved on from the question of being woken up.

“Me?” He chuckled, finding your intrigue a bit surprising. “I’m in Italy, right now.”

“Italy!” You exclaimed, keeping your voice hushed so you did not wake anyone else. “Jacob, what the hell are you doing in Italy?” He let out a loud, booming laugh at your response, his glee contagious even through the screen. You felt a warmth overtake your entire body, wondering what you could say to get him to laugh like that again.

“Italy today, but we’re not doing a whole lot right now, just seeing some sights before we get back to it. We were in Brazil, and Mexico, France, and Sweden, too.” He listed off, purposefully neglecting to answer the biggest question to build the suspense. “Then, we’re headed off to Germany and Ireland, then to the UK for a few days, then home.” He continued, an irritating little smile on his face as he continued to leave you hanging.

“Okay, and? Brag much?” You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you downplayed your curiosity and covered it with sarcasm. He let out another laugh, the sound strikingly beautiful as it settled deep in your bones. “Seriously, Mr. World Traveler, what are you doing? And who is ‘we’?” You wanted to hear it all, but you couldn’t deny you were dreading the answer to your second question. You didn’t want to know if it was a significant other, especially now that you were face to face with the feelings that still existed for him.

You could see a flash of hurt in his eyes as you asked, like he was devastated that you didn’t know anything about him anymore. He didn’t know if you kept up with his life, watching his dreams unfold in real time despite the distance, but he wanted you to. He didn’t want to live a life you didn’t have any part in, even if it wasn’t as active as he dreamed it would be. He wanted you to know him, to check in on him like he still did with you from time to time, but he couldn’t blame you. He knew firsthand just how badly it hurt to see you live your life through a screen.

“I did it, sunshine.” He said, answering every question with one, simple phrase. At the sound of his words, you were overtaken by a mixture of grief and pride, unable to properly express how fantastic you felt upon learning the truth.

“Jake,” you breathed, feeling your bottom lip quiver with an abundance of emotion you couldn’t hold back. “You did it?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, a small smile on his face. The sadness in your tone killed him, but it was the exact one that he was feeling, so he did not feel right scolding you for something when he succumbed to the same feeling.

“I’m so sorry.” You took in a sharp breath, fighting back the tears begging to fall. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there, Jake. I always knew you could do it. I’m so proud of you.” Your chest was tight, your head already aching from previous tears shed. You had no idea how you had anything left to cry, but the sadness was so plentiful that you couldn’t seem to do anything else.

“Don’t cry, beautiful.” He pleaded, not because he didn’t understand, but because he knew it all too well. If you let tears fall, he wouldn’t be far behind you, and he was trying so hard to keep himself together. “You don’t have to be sorry for anything. You’re the whole reason I made it here, sunshine:”

“That’s not true.” You shook your head, swiping away tears before they could fall too far. “You’re the reason you made it, Jake. You worked so hard, all of this time. I don’t deserve credit for any of it. I’m just the girl who left.”

“Is that what you think, Y/N?” He asked, in disbelief of your words. Your silence was telling of the truth, answering his question without any doubt. “You’re not the girl who left, sweetheart. You’re everything.”

The one word struck a nerve in you that you did not know existed.

Everything.

He thought of you the exact same way you thought of him.

You weren’t just his ex-girlfriend, nor a high school sweetheart long forgotten in the mess of his chaotic life. You weren’t a girl who broke his heart, and you weren’t someone he despised. You were someone he loved so utterly and deeply, in the same way you still loved him.

“I waited for six years, hoping I’d wake up to a message from you, even if it was to tell me you’d moved on and you were wishing me well so you could close the door on us. It would have hurt, but I would have been happy as long as you were. You’re not some girl, Y/N. You’re the girl. You’re my sunshine.” At that, your head fell back against the cushion of the couch, tears free flowing as you tried your best to process all that he was saying. “I don’t care if it makes me seem like an idiot, but I waited, because you’ve always been worth it to me. Couldn’t move on unless I knew for sure there was no chance of you coming back.”

“I waited too, Jake.” You confessed. “I wanted to talk to you every night, to tell you everything that’s happened since I last saw you, but I was so scared you hated me.”

“I could never hate you, Y/N.” He promised. “You were my biggest fan, and my biggest inspiration. None of this would have been possible if you hadn’t loved me so much.” He confessed, looking pained as he spoke. Even after so long, he was in agony not being there to wipe the tears from your face. He wondered how many times you found yourself like that, over him with nobody there to help you through it. He wondered if it was as many times as it happened to him.

“I have so much to tell you, Jake. There’s so much I want you to tell me.”

“Whatever you want to know, sunshine. I want to tell you everything.” He said, the same softness in his tone as he used to have with you. He was telling the truth; the love he had for you was still there, only growing worse as time went on and he had nowhere to put it down. “But please don’t disappear on me again. I don’t think I can handle it.”

“No more disappearing.” You promised, finding the thought almost laughable. You could barely find enough strength to walk away from him the first time, let alone a second. “So you made it? Tell me about the band. Tell me how it happened.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, a sheepish smile on his face. “We named it ‘Greta Van Fleet’.” He explained, pausing so he could answer as well as he could. “We made an EP with a couple of songs we finished writing just after high school, and it caught some attention. Before too long, we were signed on with a label and writing a second album. By that point, Sam was graduated and we figured we’d move to Nashville. Seemed like a better fit for us.”

“So Sammy plays with you, too? Does Josh still sing?”

“Yeah, Sam plays bass and keys..” Jake chuckled, nodding along as he spoke. “Josh sings for us, yeah.”

“So… your drummer?” You raised an eyebrow, waiting to hear who they picked.

“Daniel.” Jake grinned, seeing your eyes light up with excitement.

“So you kept the whole family together, huh?”

“That’s kind of our thing, I guess.” He shrugged, downplaying the situation to seem nonchalant about it.

“And you’re on tour now? In Europe!” You gushed, more proud of him than even he could comprehend. “For your second album?”

“Third.” He corrected, only slightly smug about it.

“Holy shit, bug. I’m so proud of you.” The pet name slipped out without thought, his eyes softening as he heard the word. It had been too long since he heard you say it, but he could never forget how it made him feel. Your cheeks turned red at the realization of what you had said, only slightly embarrassed that it seemed so easy to slip back into the old routine. “Sorry. Old habits die hard.”

“No need to apologize.” He gave you a soft smile. “Kinda liked it. Been a while.”

“It has.” You nodded. “So… I guess I have some listening to do.”

“Seems like it.” He chuckled. “Only if you want to.”

“I do.” You assured him. “I really do. I didn’t want to disappear on you, Jake. It killed me, but I had to.”

“Why?” He asked, his voice quiet as sadness encased his face. “Why did you have to?”

“‘Cause at the time, I thought it was right. I thought us breaking up was for the best.” Your lips turned down into a frown. “I loved you so much, and the more I talked to you, the harder it was to convince myself it was for the best.”

“Do you still think it was for the best?” The question hit you with a force you weren’t quite prepared for.

Did you think it was for the best? No, of course not; you barely thought it was for the best back then, and you regretted leaving since the very first night spent away from him. Now, though? He just told you how fantastic his life had been since you walked away, and it had you second guessing everything you’d ever believed. You didn’t want to believe it was for the best, but you couldn’t ignore how far he had come. You wondered if you stayed together, if his life would have ended up the same.

“Yes and no.” You swallowed hard, unsure how to answer correctly. “I was miserable the whole time. I missed you so much, and every day I wished I was still with you. At the same time, if we stayed together, would you have done so well in life? Would I have held you back? If we stayed together, would we still love each other so much, or would it have turned into resentment because we couldn’t never fully be together?” It was his turn to be silent, taking in all you had to offer.

“You never would have held me back.” He said with the utmost of certainty in his tone. “It would have been hard in a different way, but I would have been happy to be with you, no matter how far away you were. I would have done all of this and more, with you there to share it with me.” He shrugged. “I regret letting you leave, sunshine. I think about it every day, and it hurts the same as it did six years ago. Sounds so stupid to be so caught up on a high school ex, but nobody ever compared to you. I never wanted anyone else. Still, after this long, you’re the only person I can think about.”

“Me too, Jake.” You whispered, finding it hard to take your eyes off his face. He was so beautiful, no matter where he was or what he did, and it was impossible not to admire him. “Life changed, and so did I, but I still love you like I did back then. It’s almost scary, because I wonder if the rest of my life will always come back to that one guy from high school.”

“Hey,” his eyebrows furrowed, a small smile blossoming on his lips. “I wasn’t just some guy from high school. Give me more credit than that.”

“You’re right.” You giggled. “You’ve always been more than just some guy.” Silence became the two of you for a moment as you reveled in the beauty of being together once again, even if it wasn’t quite the same.

“So, no boyfriend?” He asked, the same boyish charm surfacing that you’d grown so familiar with.

“Definitely not.” You laughed again, your eyes sparkling with emotion. “No girlfriend?”

“Nope,” he gave a single shake of his head, popping the ‘p’ to accentuate his feelings on the matter.

“What a coincidence.” You smiled, teasing him only slightly. “Too bad you’re all the way in Europe.”

“I won’t be here forever, sunshine.” He said, a little more serious than he was a moment before.

“But you’ll go back to Nashville.” You said, unwilling to get your hopes up.

“Eventually, yeah.” He nodded, agreeing to an extent. “Only if I have nowhere else to go.”

You tried not to read too much into it, forcing yourself to believe he didn’t mean it the way you took it, but his intent was quite clear and incredibly hard to ignore. The door was open and he was waiting on the other side, inviting you to join him. He wanted to rekindle the old flame, just as bad as you wanted to do it, but he wanted to hear it from your mouth first. There was nothing stopping you; hell, you were the one who reached out in the first place. Deep down, you were hoping to hear him say that, but it did not make it any less scary.

In six years, it was abundantly clear the two of you had changed. You weren’t even sure if you were compatible anymore, or if the conversation was going so well because of the residual love still leftover. You would have to get to know him all over again and hope that he still loved the newest version of you. More than anything, you were terrified that you would get hurt all over again. Jake was your biggest heartbreak and the only man you had ever loved.

Then again, he was never the one who broke your heart. You did that, not him. In the time you’d known Jake, all he ever did was love, and respect you. Even after you broke his heart, he still tried to stay friends, to help you through your first days of university so you weren’t completely alone. When you told him it was too much, even though it hurt him, he respected your wishes. Now, six years later, he answered your message at the drop of a dime, even halfway across the world. He put his plans on pause, just to talk to you and see how far you had come. He wanted to tell you all he accomplished; he’d been waiting over half a decade to share it with you, because you were the only one he wanted to share it with.

How could you be so afraid of a man who only ever wanted to love you?

Well, you weren’t scared of him. You were afraid of the power he had over you, and all of the love you still had. You were afraid of losing him again, and you were afraid of hurting. In six years, you had never felt as good as you did at that moment. Talking to Jake made the world seem right again, and you were horrified at the prospect of losing it. You barely survived it the first time, functioning only after you forced him out of your mind. Maybe it was too fast to be professing such feelings to him over a FaceTime call at four in the morning, and maybe you had opened yourself up for a whole new world of pain you wouldn’t be able to handle.

Thankfully, you didn’t have to think of a response, because you were nowhere near ready to delve into that subject.

The patter of tiny paws against the floor paired with the jingle of a bell snapped you from your brooding, and within seconds, you were joined on the couch by a cat who was greatly displeased that you left the room without him. He jumped up on the couch, already purring as he stepped onto your stomach and blocked the view of the camera.

“Hi, baby.” You cooed, giving his head a pet in hopes he would ease off on the affection. “Sorry, Jake.” You said, knowing the cat was completely blocking his view of you. He climbed up onto your chest, rubbing his face against yours as if he was dying from a lack of attention.

“You finally got a cat!” Jake exclaimed, completely disregarding your apology as a new train of thought popped in his head. A smile broke out onto your face as you lifted the camera up, giving him a better view of the two of you. When he continued to move towards your face, you slipped your free hand under his front legs, propping him up next to you and turning the camera so he could get a clear picture of the two of you.

Little to your knowledge, Jake took the opportunity to snap a quick screenshot of the moment, his emotion running high and his heart making all of the decisions. He didn’t want to forget a single moment of the sweet reunion. He didn’t want to forget a single moment spent with you.

“I did,” you laughed, turning your head slightly so Ozz had less access to your face as you spoke. You eased your hold on him, letting him meander around freely now that the intruductions had passed. “Or he got us, I guess. Didn’t have much of a choice in the matter.”

“Us?” He asked, curious as to who you were talking about.

“Yeah, my best friend and I.” You clarified.

“God, sunshine, there’s so much I want to ask.” He confessed, chuckling as he watched the cat settle down on your stomach, curling up into a ball.

“Ask away.” You smiled, giving him the same energy he gave you.

“What’s his name?” He started easy, clearly talking about the furry companion taking post on your abdomen.

“Ozz.”

“Like after Ozzy Osbourne?”

“The one and only.” You nodded, smiling slightly. “His full name is The man himself, Blizzard of Ozz: Prince of Fucking Darkness. Ozz is just for short.” As if he understood the pretense of the conversation, he let out a tiny meow at the sound of his name. Jake found himself caught up in another fit of laughter, the name striking him as hilarious and perfectly fitting for you. “We found him in an alleyway by a coffee shop, now the bastard lives like royalty.”

“He does seem pretty… spoiled.” He commented, noticing how content the cat was just to lay on you.

“That’s putting it mildly.” You grinned, scratching behind his ear.

“Your best friend, do you live with them?” He asked, treading carefully. He wasn’t exactly fond of the idea of you living with a guy, even if you did say you were single. He knew it wasn’t his place to be upset over such a thing, but jealousy was a human emotion he was often susceptible to, especially when it came to you.

“Yeah, I do. Her name is Mel. Met her not long after I got to school. We had the same major, and the same intro to lit class, so we clicked pretty fast. Think we moved in together in our second year, and we stayed in the same apartment ‘till school was done.” You explained, keeping it short and simple. You were scared of boring him, but you wanted to tell him every detail of the years he missed, just so it seemed like he never left at all. “She’s great, you’d really like her. She’s the one who encouraged me to reach out, actually.”

“I’ll have to thank her, then.” He gave you a soft smile, seeing his appreciation for the fact. “So you graduated?”

“I did.” A blinding smile took over as you confirmed it. “In April, with honors. I almost gave up a couple times, but I’m so thankful I stuck with it.”

“I’m so proud of you, sunshine. I always knew you’d do fantastic.” Your cheeks turned pink again, almost unsure how to handle such sweet words from him after so long. You were so thankful that the conversation was flowing easily, like there’d never been a period of time where the two of you stopped.

“Thank you. I always wanted to make you proud.” You muttered, almost embarrassed at the thought.

“Are you kidding, angel? I’ve always been proud of you.” He said, leaning a little closer to the screen as he spoke. His face up close was even more stunning, and you found yourself bargaining with the racing of your head.

“You’re so beautiful, Jake.” The words slipped out faster than you could stop them. As soon as they left your lips, you bit down on your tongue, unable to believe you said the thought aloud. You noticed his cheeks turn pink, his whole face illuminated by the warm sunlight flowing in through the windows. Even if you knew you shouldn’t have said it, it didn’t make it any less true.

“You too, sunshine.” A little giggle fell from his lips, like he was bashful about your compliment. You felt your heart ache to be next to him, to hear the laugh in real time. You longed to be with him, but you knew better than that. Things were never this easy, and you were bracing for the inevitable disappointment that always seemed to come. “Tell me more. What are you doing now?”

“Once we graduated, we went to Arizona for a little while. We packed up Mel’s stuff and hauled it back to Michigan. We’re staying with mom for a few weeks so I can pack up my things and apply for some jobs. When we get hired, we’re gonna find a place of our own.” You explained, feeling the sleepiness begin to take hold again. You wanted to fight it for as long as possible, dreading the end of the call and desperate to keep talking to him. “I found an opening at a high school in Ann Arbor that seemed promising, and Mel applied at an elementary school nearby. There was also a position at the University of Michigan as a professor, so I applied there, too. I’m not sure if I’ll get it, but I’ve got my fingers crossed.”

“My girl, the professor.” He muttered to himself, barely realizing the extent of the words that slipped from his lips. Your heart skipped a beat at the sound, the possessive claim potentially misplaced, but feeling like heaven as it washed over you. For a moment, even if it wasn’t truly like that anymore, you wanted to live in the feeling of being his. You neglected to correct him, and he seemed to make no moves to do it himself. “Any one of them would be lucky to have you, sweetheart.”

“Thank you.” You smiled, looking down and away from his burning gaze. “I never thought I’d want to teach at a university, but the older I get, the more appealing it seems.”

“Whatever you choose to do, I know you’ll do great.” He assured you. “So you’re staying with your mom?” You gave a slight nod, fighting a yawn as it clawed at your throat. “How is she doing? And your sister? Does she still play basketball?”

“Yeah, she does.” You grinned. “She’s in university now, too. Got an athletic scholarship and she’s killing it. My mom’s good too, keeping busy like always and happy to have all of us home. I think being alone all of the time gets to her.”

“Yeah, I ran into her a few times after you moved out. She seemed pretty lost without you.” Your chest pained at the thought, but you knew he was right. You and your sister were your mom’s whole world, and when you moved out, she took it hard.

“She never really got back into dating, so she gets pretty lonely here by herself. I think she still talks to your mom on occasion, but she was scared of crossing any boundaries, you know? I told her it was more than alright, but she’s always so worried about everything.” You explained, your voice quiet as you continued to pet Ozz’s head.

“It’s a mom thing. They never stop worrying.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” You giggled. “How’s your parents?”

“Good,” he gave a slow nod, thinking about his response before he spoke. “They miss us a lot. We don’t visit enough, and it makes me feel bad, but life gets so busy.”

“‘Specially for you, rockstar.” Your lips turned up in the corner, finding the nickname perfectly fitting.

“You decided to settle down in Michigan again? I never thought you’d go back.” He switched the subject, trying to hide the blushing of his cheeks at your new pet name. His tone was inquisitive, and full of disbelief. You couldn’t blame him for thinking it, because for your entire life, you had promised you’d never move back.

“Just seemed like the right thing at the time.” You mumbled, unsure of the real reason you wanted to come home. Maybe it was your subconscious forcing you back to Michigan in hopes you would run into him. “Didn’t know where else to go, so I went home. Been here for a few days now, and it’s not so bad. I don’t have any friends here anymore, but that’s okay.”

“You could make friends anywhere, sunshine.” He said, listening intently to every word.

“I found the mixtape, Jake.” You finally confessed the truth behind you reaching out. “I found all of the old stuff, actually.”

“Oh.” He breathed, unsure of how to respond because he wasn’t sure how you felt about it.

“All of the Polaroids, and the love notes. All those flowers I saved, and a shit ton of guitar picks you left here.” A smile pulled at the corners of your mouth as you thought of it. “And the mixtape. I sat down and listened to it last night, for the first time in years.” You paused, feeling your eyes begin to well with tears again. “I can’t believe you did all of that for me, Jake. You were the best boyfriend in the whole world.” The exhaustion was beginning to hit now, and your words were coming out unfiltered. If you waited until the morning to respond, you likely would have kept the thoughts to yourself.

“I wish I did more, Y/N. you deserved the world, and you still do. I keep thinking that if I tried a little harder, we wouldn’t have ended up here.” His words were equal to a stab in the chest. You never wanted him to feel less than good enough, because he was everything to you, still to this day. Nothing he did drove you away, and nothing he could have done would have made you stay.

“I like to think things happened the way they did because they had to, like our story was already written before it started.” You explained, knowing that was the only reasoning that helped you survive the time without him. “We couldn’t have changed the way things played out, so we shouldn’t beat ourselves up over it.”

“You’re right,” he nodded, swallowing back a lump forming in his throat. “But we can always change the future.”

“I think we are, right now.” You whispered, a breath of hope filling your lungs.

“We are.” He agreed, a soft smile taking hold again. “So you listened to the songs again?”

“Yeah,” you chuckled, playing with a frayed thread on the seam of the blanket. “Hence why I sent you that one last night.”

“Right.” He nodded, remembering the message all too well. “I hope I didn’t make the song bad for you again. I only ever wanted to make you happy, to give that memory back to you.”

“No, Jake. F’course you didn’t.” You replied without missing a beat. “Sure, it hurts, but not like it used to. It’s different. It hurts because I was loved, not because I wasn’t.” He sat with the thought for a moment, bargaining with it before he responded.

“I’ve always loved the way you think of things. Like a whole new perspective I’ve never even considered.”

“Things aren’t ever just black and white. There’s a million different reasons for why things happen the way they do, and I think it’s important to consider all of them.” You shrugged, knowing that you’d gone over the million different reasons pertaining to your breakup every day since. “I had a dream tonight, about the Clapton song.” You weren’t sure why you were telling him so much, but you felt like he needed to know, that he needed to hear how cherished those memories were to you.

“I think of you every time I hear it.” He spoke softly, as if he didn’t want the words to scare you away. “Just us, in that kitchen, without a care in the world.”

“We were such romantics.” You giggled, recalling the gentle hold of his hands on your hips as if it were yesterday. Your eyes fluttered closed, allowing yourself to live in the moment again. You could feel the closeness of his face, his warm breath on your skin as his nose brushed yours. His cologne surrounded you, the scent calming and inviting. Slow dancing with him in the kitchen was the only thing that mattered, in that moment and every one that came after.

It was hard, feeling like you wanted to go home whilst you sat at home.

Home was never a building, never the four walls that surrounded you. The house in which you sat in was nothing but a place; cold, dark and empty when he wasn’t beside you. It was a place in which you’d lived the worst days of your life, and one in which you watched your loved ones live theirs. It was a house that your father once lived in, but abandoned in search of a new family with someone better. The house you sat in was not home, not in that moment and not in many others. There were blips in time when that warm feeling came, when you felt welcome and at peace, but it was all due to him.

Jake was the very thing that made home, home, all of those years ago. His love seeped into the walls, touched every surface and item inside, ensuring that the blissfulness would remain long after he left. His laugh, still booming down the hallway and bouncing from the floor to the ceiling despite it being years since he stepped foot inside. Without him, it was just a house.

“I miss you, Jake.” The words echoed through the vacant room, louder each time they passed through your ears. The statement was heavy, weighing you down like concrete. The effect of the notion remained long after silence ensued again, and nothing could break you out of that feeling. You missed him now, and you missed him every day for six years. You missed him the minute you left, and that hole in your heart never seemed to mend. Even when you met new people and tried so hard to fill yourself up with love, it was never enough to replace what you lost when you left him. “I’ve missed you for years. It gets worse every day.”

“I miss you.” He said, knowing it was a grave thought for him, too. “I‘ve spent so long traveling the world, seeing new things and meeting new people, but it doesn’t mean anything without someone to share it with. I want to share it with you, sunshine. No matter if it’s as friends, or as something more. I miss you.”

At that, any semblance of strength shattered, sending your heart along with it. You spent so long trying to convince yourself that he was happy, and that he moved on. You wanted to believe that he found someone who put the stars in his sky, and that you would find that person for yourself, someday. You stayed away because you thought you would only cause him problems, that your presence in his life would be detrimental rather than beneficial, but it wasn’t true. You decided it for him, and he was suffering because of it.

He missed you the same as you missed him, lying awake in bed wondering if you had someone to keep you warm at night. He believed you found someone to replace him, someone who loved you even more desperately and dearly than himself, someone who made you happier than he could. He neglected to reach out in fear it would disrupt your life, that it would cause a problem he didn’t want you to have. Jake suffered, and he suffered just as much as you did. You weren’t being the hero; you were the direct cause of the pain you always wished he would be free of.

“We’re so stupid.” You muttered, feeling your voice crack as you spoke.

“So stupid.” He agreed. “Maybe we can make up for it. Maybe this is our second chance.”

“I want to hear about all of it, Jake. I never wanted to stop hearing about it. I want to see all the pictures, and hear all the stories about you traveling the world, and I want to hear the music you wrote.” You explained, watching his eyes soften as you spoke. It pained you to know he ever thought you wouldn’t want to hear it all. “Seems like I have lots of homework to do.”

“You don’t have to do it all on your own.” He chuckled, shaking his head at your tendency to overwhelm yourself. “Let me show you some pictures now. I have time, if you want to see them.”

“Of course I do.” You stressed the word, nervous that you were beginning to feel the hole in your chest mend back together. You’d grown so comfortable with its presence that you began to forget how painful it was when it formed, and now that it was disappearing, you dreaded it ever returning.

“Okay, hold on.” He grinned, bringing the phone closer to his face for a moment.

As he did, you took a moment to admire the beauty of him as a whole. His completion was soft, his skin smooth and more tan than usual from the summer sun. His hair was dry now, the chestnut locks framing his face perfectly, and the mustache that sat atop his lip prompted an unfamiliar feeling in the pit of your stomach. He was a man now, so different from the boy you loved with all your heart, but even more fantastic. His brown eyes were breathtaking, and you couldn’t help but feel yourself fall for him all over again, in a whole new way.

You never stopped loving Jake, but it had always been the version of him you knew before. Now, you felt the feelings blossoming for the newest, most improved version of him, and you knew you were in too deep. There was not a version of Jake you did not love, and sitting and talking to him now after all the time spent away only proved that even further.

Then, amidst a staring contest with him, the screen changed. He was sharing his photo gallery, eager to share all of the memories he’d made over the last few months with you. Your stomach was overtaken with warmth, joyus that even though you left him, there seemed to be no resentment lingering towards you.

“I’ll just show you some pictures from France, because I don’t want to keep you up all night. I know it’s late there, but I can’t help myself.”

“It’s okay, Jake.” You promised, knowing you’d suffer a million sleepless nights just to listen to him talk about everything and anything, even if it was nothing important.

“Here’s some pictures of the Eiffel Tower. I know we always used to say we’d visit it someday, and when we were there, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I wondered if you ever made it there without me.” Your heart sank despite the sweet sentiments, sad at the prospect of not being there with him and knowing even if you did go on your lonesome, you would have been thinking of the same things. “Not a whole lot to see, really. Here’s a picture of all of us there.” He said, swiping to another one. He zoomed in slightly, allowing you to really see the four of them together.

“Holy shit, Jake.” You breathed, in awe at the sight. “You’re all so grown up. Look at Sammy! He grew his hair out too!” You exclaimed, bringing the phone closer to your face. “Danny, too! They look so different!”

“Yeah, it’s crazy, right? I feel that way every day.” He laughed to himself.

“And you and Josh! It’s so easy to tell you guys apart, now.” You studied the photo for a moment longer. “I mean, not that I ever got confused in high school, but your hair is so long and he changed so much. You’re both so different now.”

“Yeah, we broke free from the twin stereotype a little bit. That’s about the only thing that’s changed, though. He’s still as annoying as ever.”

“Be nice, Jacob.” You teased, remembering the arguments and fights the two used to find themselves in. You never understood how it was so easy for them to bounce back, like the minute it was over it seemed as if nothing ever happened at all.

“To him? Never.” He scoffed, swiping to a new picture. “We went to the Louvre, too. I didn’t get as many pictures as I wanted, but I have a few at least. Maybe I’ll go back someday.”

Maybe you could go with him.

You shook the thought from your head, knowing it was a ridiculous idea and that you shouldn’t be getting your hopes up so soon.

“You used to say my picture would end up in there someday.” A small smile blossomed on your lips, the sweet memory coming back to you in a flash.

“And I still believe it.” He said without missing a beat, almost as if he was thinking the same exact thing. “Nothing in there could compare to you, sweetheart.” Your heart skipped a beat, your lungs forgetting how to breathe for a moment as the compliment took hold. He paused for a second, seemingly focusing on you in the little rectangle in the corner of his screen. “Are you… are you wearing my shirt?” He asked, completely pulled from the moment as his mind begged him to ask. Your gaze fluttered downwards, a look of confusion on your face as you studied the faded logo on the front. There was still a hint of blue vinyl clinging to the chest, cracked and peeling from years of use.

“No?” You said, your eyebrows furrowed together. “This is mine.” You deducted, never recalling a time where the shirt wasn’t in your possession. The Eagles were your favorite band, and the greatest hits album cover that used to decorate the front was your favorite album of all time. For years, you wore it to bed every night, never once thinking anything of it.

It was your shirt.

Right?

“No, it’s not.” He laughed, a sparkle of amusement shining in his eye. “I got that in the ninth grade. For my birthday, from Sam.” He continued, his head cocked to the side. “I always wondered where that went.”

“Jake, this is my shirt!” You argued, flustered that he was so certain it wasn’t. “I’ve worn it to bed almost every night since like, the tenth grade!” As the words left your lips, the realization hit you full force. Your eyes widened and your mouth dropped open in shock, and you took one last look down at the worn black material of the shirt.

“Yeah, since the tenth grade.” He reiterated, another laugh stuck in his throat. “You seriously thought that was your shirt?”

“Yeah, I did.” You squeaked, your cheeks red in embarrassment. “I just wore it for so long, I guess I never thought much of it.”

“Okay, wait.” He said, now more intrigued than before. “You don’t also happen to have an old Gibson shirt? A black one with a big circle logo and a Les Paul?” You swallowed hard, guilt written clear as day across your features. “You’re a thief!” He laughed, clearly unbothered and finding more amusement about it than you did.

“I can’t be a thief if I didn’t know they were yours!” You defended yourself, a smile tugging at your lips, too.

“I don’t think that matters, sweetheart. Been wondering where the hell those went for years!” His smile was blinding, taking over his cheeks and eyes as he solved a mystery you didn’t know existed.

“Okay, well, do you want them back?” You giggled, growing more comfortable with the fact as he continued to joke about it.

No wonder those shirts had always been your favorite.

“No, sunshine. They’re all yours.” He assured you. “Think it would make me the bad guy if I took them back after so long.”

“Not if they’re yours.” You explained, feeling your smile grow wider as you spoke.

“S’okay, love. They look better on you than they ever did on me.” He said, a note of finality in his voice. “What else did you steal from me?”

“I didn’t steal anything!” You huffed, your cheeks rosy as you tried your best to defend your honor. “Can we get back to these pictures, already?”

“Right,” he hummed, smirking at your flustered face. “Sure, let’s get back to the pictures.” He said, bringing his attention back to his photo gallery.

“Thank you.” You snipped, sassiness dripping from your tone. “Rockstar like you could buy a million Eagles shirts. So concerned about this one.” You mumbled to yourself.

“Yeah, because it’s mine!” He argued, his laugh echoing through his hotel room. “A very thoughtful gift from my dear brother, at that.”

“Photos, Jake!” You giggled, pointing at the screen to draw his attention back to the task at hand.

“Fine.” He grumbled, but you could tell he was teasing. “Anyway, we went to the Château de Chambord, a real life fuckin’ castle, sunshine. It was so beautiful, and it had an actual moat.” He swiped through a few pictures, letting you get a good look at each one. You couldn’t help but notice the tugging of your heartstrings as he spoke French, realizing that he really had grown up and learned so much. He was still your Jake, just ever so slightly different.

“Wow,” you breathed, enthralled in the architecture of the building. “That’s so cool, Jake.”

“Right?” He grinned. “We went to visit a few, but we didn’t have as much time as I would have liked. I can’t wait to go back and see all of the stuff I missed out on.”

“There’s lots of time, bug.” You assured him. “I’m sure you’ll find yourself back there, someday.”

“I’ll bring you with me, so you can see it all, too.” He said, his tone ensuring that you knew he was making a promise. Your eyes fluttered closed, your brain already fantasizing about traveling the world with him by your side. A long time ago, it seemed like a far-fetched dream, but now it seemed like it could be a reality. Even if things were different than they used to be, the possibility of living all of the dreams you once had was still alive. “You should see the cathedrals, sunshine. They’re breathtaking. The pictures don’t even do it justice.” He explained, swiping through to more photos.

You watched, in awe of the beauty of the world that you’d never seen before. You were so proud of him, and you were so happy for him. He was living a life he loved, doing the very things he loved, with the people he loved. You once believed Jake would find happiness in another woman, someone lying next to him at night, someone to love him the way you once did. The thought hurt you, but you never once believed that he would not go in search of that to be happy. He was too lovable to avoid love. Instead, he found it in music and travel, and spending time with his brothers. He found it in every city, and every stage under bright lights, playing guitar until his fingers ached and he couldn’t possibly go on. He found happiness in life, rather than a person, like you secretly hoped he would. More importantly, he waited for you as he searched for that happiness.

You listened as he explained each sight, raving about his favorite things about each one. You adored the scenery, but you couldn’t help but feel more excited to see the pictures that he was in, because to you, he was the most beautiful sight of all. The smile on his face, the way the sun kissed his skin, and the long forgotten feeling of home every time you looked his way. Everything about him was breathtaking, and you knew you were long past the point of no return. You were just as enamored with him as you were years ago, and the nagging feeling seemed to persist despite you trying to shove it down. Worst of all, you’d fallen for Jake as he was now, rather than for the reminiscence of the relationship you once had.

Part of you worried that if you ever crossed paths again, you would hate the newest versions of each other. You feared that after so long and so much change, the two of you would lose any common ground you once had and you would simply be strangers passing by. Now, that fear was obsolete, replaced with a brand new, more powerful one; you clicked just as well as you did when you were young and in love, and now you couldn’t possibly force yourself to get over him.

No matter what, even if Jake was never yours again, you knew you would always be his. At eighty years old, stuck in a nursing home, if he was not taking up the physical space beside you, he would be taking up every single spot in your heart and soul.

So, you still loved him, and you were overjoyed to talk to him after so long, but it did not make the hurt any easier. Now, you were face to face with your love for him, with the knowledge he traveled the world for a living and resided in a completely different state. Just like it was all those years ago, the world didn’t seem to want the two of you together. Distance was always your worst enemy, and you felt the same as you did when he helped you pack up your car and saw you off to school. Loving Jake from a distance was worse than torture, and letting him go was excruciating. You did not know how to make it work, but you did not know how to stop loving him.

You reopened a wound you spent so long sewing shut, and now you were bleeding yourself dry for a chance to have him in your life again.

As he was explaining a picture of The Arc de Triomphe, your attention was pulled away from his voice by a text notification flashing at the top of his screen. You hated to be nosy, and you didn’t want to intrude, but the temptation was too much to resist. You read the words as they flashed across the screen, your heart pounding as your mind was taken by fear. You dreaded seeing something you shouldn’t, more specifically from someone he neglected to tell you about, but as you continued to read the text, you understood that all Jake had said to you was the utter truth.

Josh - 12:13pm

How’s it going? Are you still talking to her??

Josh - 12:14pm

I hate to break up the happy reunion, but we’re waiting for you in the lobby

Josh - 12:14pm

Tell her I said hi

He was pushing back plans to talk to you? Jake Kiszka, the boy everyone dreams of having, was neglecting to explore Italy just to catch up with you?

So many thoughts were running through your head, your heart aching at the prospect of him caring about you so much even after so much time had passed. You had pegged him as a man who moved on, one who had forgotten about you and erased your memory from his mind. You forced yourself to believe he didn’t care, and that you were the fool for being so caught up on him. You wanted to believe those things as the truth, in hopes to make it easier for you to forget and move forward, but it only ever seemed to make it hurt worse. Now, you knew why, and it was because he never stopped caring about you, not even for a second. He was a man who loved so deeply and so much, and he continued to love you the same way even when you completely disappeared from his life.

He loved you so much still that he had to talk to his brother about it before he replied to you, your message seemingly turning his world upside down like the mixtape had done to you.

How could you ever force yourself to forget him again? How, after such a sweet conversation that eased the constant ache in your chest, could you walk away and leave this behind again?

“Fuckin’ Josh.” He grumbled, aware that you’d seen the message too. He didn’t seem concerned over the fact you’d read it, but rather that he had to force himself away from you.

“Jake, I didn’t know you had plans. You didn’t have to keep talking to me.” You frowned, saddened that you distracted him from bigger and better things.

“Are you kidding, sunshine? I know I didn’t have to.” He replied, his face back in the camera view as he stopped sharing his screen. “I wanted to talk to you. There’s never a time when I don’t want to talk to you.”

“I just… go and explore. You’re in Italy, Jake. Don’t waste your time on me.”

“Sunshine, you have never been a waste of my time.” He said, his tone firm and his statement final. “Italy has nothing on you.” At that, you felt the need to cry all over again. What had you ever done to deserve someone as perfect as him? What did you ever do to deserve a love so genuine and kind?

“And you’ve never been a waste of my time, Jake. Not even for a second.” You whispered, your tone wavering under the threat of tears. “I wish we did this sooner. I missed you so fucking much.”

“I could tell you every day for the rest of my life, and I’m still certain you would never know how much I missed you, angel.” You squeezed your eyes shut, desperate to avoid crying in front of him again. You knew he had to go, but the thought of silence after hearing the sound of his voice was devastating. You never wanted to let it go, and you never wanted to be away from him again.

“You should go, they’re waiting on you.” You couldn’t bear the thought of being the reason he missed out on anything ever again. You couldn’t be selfish and keep him from such fantastic things, even if the idea of hanging up the phone was gut wrenching. You would suffer in silence if it meant he could be happy, even if it was just for a moment.

“If I go, will you still be here when I get back?” His voice was soft, afraid of something he couldn’t survive a second time. You knew what he meant; you would not be in his hotel room, nor would you see him in person. He was wondering if you would still be present, if you would answer the phone again if he called. He was terrified that if he walked away, you would disappear on him again.

“Yes, bug.” You promised. “Never again. I’ll never leave you again.” And it was the truth; you could not be the one to walk away again, unless he was telling you to. His love was too euphoric to deny, and his company made the world seem right again. You couldn’t imagine shutting him out like you did once before, and you would never let yourself do it again.

“Thank you for calling, sunshine.” He said, the utmost sincerity in his voice. “You have no idea how much I needed to hear your voice.” You did, because you needed to hear his just as bad.

“Thank you for answering.”

“I don’t want to go.” He confessed, his face sad as he thought about hanging up. There was still so much to say, so much to catch up on, so much love to give after holding yourselves back.

“Me, either.” You muttered.

“Can I text you?” He asked, hopeful despite the sadness seeming to plague him.

“Please do.” You breathed, unable to tear your eyes away from his face. You knew it was wrong, and you knew under no circumstances should you say it aloud, but love was dancing on the tip of your tongue. Despite your age and the time between your last encounter, nothing seemed to change for you. You felt just as strongly, and just as deeply for him. “Send me more pictures. Tell Josh I said hi. Tell everyone I said hi.”

“I will, sunshine.” He promised.

“Okay.” You nodded, grief-stricken at the prospect of saying goodbye.

“No goodbyes.” He said, sharply as if he was reading your mind. It was never that deep, but he was thinking the exact same thing. “I’m not saying goodbye to you—I never want to say goodbye to you again.”

“See you soon?” You offered the alternative, much more comfortable with that rather than a goodbye.

“Yeah,” he breathed, giving a single nod. “See you soon, sunshine.”

“Okay.” You squeaked, feeling paralyzed with sadness as you raised your hand to hit the end call button.

“Hey,” he said, holding on to the moment for a second longer. You raised an eyebrow, your heart skipping a beat as you realized he was dreading the end as much as you were.

“Yeah?”

“You look wonderful tonight, sweetheart.” A tiny smile pulled at the corner of his lips. The small little statement sent you to shambles, your stomach plummeting and your heart breaking. “If I was there, I’d slow dance in that kitchen with you all over again.”

“Whenever you want to, Jake. You know where to find me.” You grinned, your cheeks pink in the pale light from the lamp beside you.

“I do, and I will, sunshine.” He hummed. He knew that no matter how many miles separated you or how many years stood between you, he would always find you, and he would love you just the same. “See you soon.”

“See you soon, Jake.” You promised, taking one last look over his face as the call disconnected.

You let out a long sigh, finding yourself frozen in place long after he disappeared from sight. You stared at his contact, already tempted to dial his number again so you could hear his voice. He was just as beautiful as you remembered him, and just as sweet as he was when you were kids. Most of all, he still loved you in the same way you loved him, which was the most comforting and heartbreaking realization of all.

You locked your screen, giving Ozz a small scratch behind the ear as you thought of everything that happened in the last twenty four hours. Your life, although the same, was completely different and in a way that you always dreamed it would be. Even if he wasn’t technically yours again, he was back in your life, and that was the most important thing. You did not know how you survived without his presence, and you knew for a fact you couldn’t do it a second time.

“This is crazy, right?” You asked the sleeping cat on your chest. “I’m crazy. Am I dreaming?” You continued, listening to him purr away, completely unaware of any of the struggle you were facing. You were crazy for many reasons, but right now the most pressing one was because you were talking to a cat who could not possibly respond to your ridiculous questions. “No way Jake still feels the same way. That’s insane. I’m insane for even thinking it.” You rambled to no one other than yourself, mulling over the idea in your mind. Still, even as you tried to denounce it, you felt crazier for trying to prove it wrong. You had never known Jake as anything other than genuine, and after all he said to you on the call, it was hard to believe he wasn’t being truthful.

You let your head fall back against the couch cushion, exhausted but unable to bargain with the idea of sleep. Your mind was completely consumed with thoughts of Jake, reminding you of all of the nights spent lying awake in your dorm bed. It was so easy for him to become the most important thing to you, and so difficult to think of anything other than him. You knew all too well that even if you did drift off to sleep, you would find yourself stuck in a dream about loving him the way you so badly wanted to.

You were so caught up in thought that you didn’t even hear the creak of the floorboards on the stairs, nor the footsteps echoing down the hallway. Only when a body presented itself beside you on the couch were you broken from the mess of memories plaguing you.

“Hey.” The soft voice spoke, familiar and comforting to you as you listened. “What are you doing awake?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Yeah, figured as much when I woke up and you weren’t in bed.” Mel chuckled, relaxing into the couch the same as you were. You could tell she was much less awake than you, sleep still trying to force her eyelids closed as she spoke. “Anything you’d like to talk about?”

You stayed silent for a moment, staring out the large windows of the living room into the front yard. The street lights illuminated the area, working in time with the moon to create a melancholy feeling as you watched the light wind tickle the grass. There was so much you wanted to talk about, but so little time. Even if you did, you feared it wouldn’t ease the ache in your chest. Worst of all, you thought it might make it worse. Still, Mel was your best friend, and she had never let you down before. Most of the time, she helped you make sense of the mess in your head, giving you a little more clarity and helping to carry the burden of your sadness.

“I texted Jake last night.” Your voice broke through the silence of the sleeping house, the words quiet but landing with an impact that shook the foundation.

“Oh,” she said, intrigued at the thought. “Did he answer?”

“Yup.” You gave a bleak nod. “And apparently he’s been waiting six years to hear from me.” She stayed silent for a moment, already knowing how taxing that thought was to you. “Turns out he still feels the same. He feels the same way I do.”

“So there were a few texts.” She deducted.

“Worse.” You scoffed. “He called me. We’ve been on the phone for the last few hours.” You paused, closing your eyes to rid yourself of the guilt hanging over your head. “He’s even prettier than I remember.”

“Do I have permission to stalk his instagram, now?” She asked, easing the tension with humor. You gave a slight chuckle, nodding your head.

“Sure, Mel. He’s still playing music, too. He made it, and I’m so proud of him. He’s in Italy right now, on tour.”

“Holy shit.” Her eyes widened in surprise, pulling her phone from her pocket. “That’s insane.”

“Yeah, truly.” You smiled, but it wasn’t insane to you. You always knew he had what it takes. You always knew he would make it. There were a lot of feelings surrounding your relationship and Jake as a whole, but doubt of him and his talent and his drive was never one of them. The two of you fell into a silence as you watched over her shoulder, typing names into the search bar to find a picture of the man you were so desperately in love with. “Can I… can I tell you about the second song?” You asked, Jake’s last words hanging heavy over you as you recalled the slow dance in the kitchen. Her eyes flickered to you, and you watched as she slowly lowered her phone to her lap.

“Of course, Y/N.” She nodded. “Talk away. I want to hear all about it.”

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