#all that sugar going through my mouth oops

[fazcinatingblog]

you can be so careful, eat only soft foods (well, except the popcorn at the cinemas today but i tried to SUCK EACH PIECE) (oh and the chocolate coated raspberries) but still, the temporary thingy still breaks and falls out

[thankyouivy]

MORE JEALOUS REID!!! MORE!!!!

i think ive re-read your last blurb like 10 times I NEED MORE

R’s ex wont stop texting her so Spencer finds a way to let him know she’s doing alright (def more then alright ;) ) without him

OK THANKS ILY

YOUR WISH IS MY COMMAND! I LOVE YOU AND I LOVE THIS PROMPT!!!

OOPS ITS BEEN A SEC. I’ve been super busy with finals and family stuff this holiday season!!! (merry Christmas and New Years if you celebrate!!) I'm trying to feed you heathens before I start working on the alphabet blurbs, prepare yourselves!!! this might be my fav blurb I've done so far….

Warnings: Smut (18+), exhibitionism, harassment from an ex, revenge in the form of recording good sex, oral sex [f rec], fingering, exobitionism, piv sex, marking/hickies, spencer says “good girl”, possessiveness, spence being a thigh man, vocal sex, dirty talk, praise, begging, riding, squirting.

!!the link with this colouring is to a p0rnographic image depicting a scene in the fic, be warned!!

———

Show Off - Spencer Reid X Fem!reader

You’ve been laying on his chest with your hands carding and tugging through his hair while since he got home.

Spencer’s hands caress your sides as you lazily make out, hands running over the soft cotton of your underwear and the warmth of your smooth skin. The only sounds in the room are the quiet, content hums and whines coming from your mouth, and the wet smacking of mouths licking into each other, but suddenly there’s a buzzing from under the sheets, which startles you.

You know it’s your phone, Spence always keeps his ringer on, so you both ignore it the first time, letting it go to voicemail. But when it rings again, you huff and fish for your phone under the covers, flipping your hair out of your face while using one arm to hold yourself above Spencer as you decline the call and place your phone on the bedside table. You look back to Spencer with a lust-filled gaze, leaning down to finish what you started, desperate to have some uninterrupted alone time with him after he’s been away for a few days.

Two minutes later, it’s buzzing again. You groan in annoyance, grabbing your phone off the nightstand to turn your ringtone off before, again, going back to Spencer.

Not even a minute later a series of ding’s are coming from the nightstand. You let out a frustrated whine, burying your head in the crook of his neck as you grumble.

“Work?” Spencer asks, voice raw and breathy from the previous heated moment. You shake your head and mumble something incoherent about “the jackass” into his neck. “He’s still calling?” Spencer asks, chuckling lightly at your nickname for your ex-boyfriend.

“Mhm” you groan, pulling your face out of his neck, the notifications still coming from your phone. He smiles sympathetically at you as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and places a kiss on your jaw. “No matter what I do I can’t get him to stop! I considered changing my number, but my boss said I can’t ‘cause all my files and data are listed under this one. It’s gotten worse since I started posting photos of us on Instagram.”

“I can ask Garcia to blacklist his number from your phone?” Spencer breathes, rubbing your back in an attempt to relax you and try to think of a solution. “Penny already tried... it worked for a little, but you know you can’t blacklist disposable cells,” you frown.

your phone dings again, and before Spencer can stop you, you’re snatching your phone off the bedside table and frantically typing something before tossing it off the bed, and onto the carpeted floor in frustration.

Spencer chuckles at your dramatics before climbing out of bed to grab your phone off the floor, looking down at the screen. “‘Trying to fuck my FBI boyfriend who has a gun.’ really, sugar?” He huffs out a laugh, sitting on the edge of the bed, rubbing his hand soothingly over your leg.

“Worth a try,” you shrug with a giggle. “It’s honestly just getting inconvenient, every time I get a notification I don’t know if it’s something important, or this dumbass,” you sigh.

“Remind me why you ever dated him?” Spencer teases, receiving a shove to his shoulder as he looks down at the phone again. “huh.”

You peek over his shoulder at the screen, draping yourself over his back, intrigued at his intrigue, “What is it?”

—

22:23 - Missed call from ‘Fucker’

22:24 - Missed call from ‘Fucker’

22:27 - Missed call from ‘Fucker’

22:29 - Fucker: hey babe

22:29 - Fucker: miss you ;)

22:29 - Fucker: and those tits of yourss

22:31 - Fucker: wyd?

22:33 - You: Trying to fuck my fbi bf who has a gun

22:33 - You: Stop calling.

22:34 - Fucker: ur dating a fed?

22:34 - Fucker: he fuck like one 2? know u miss this d

22:35 - Fucker:u know u want me

22:36 - Fucker: u miss how i make you feel he dont make u feel like that and u know it

22:36 - Fucker: admit it

—

“Well- he’s got clear narcissistic tendencies and incredibly high ego…” Spencer mumbles to himself. “And a tiny dick,” you add with a giggle, kissing at his neck.

Spencer frowns at that, and you can practically hear the cogs turning in his head. He’s half upset at the knowledge that you ever had sex with this guy, and half upset that it was clearly not pleasurable for you, at all.

“You know… even though pathological narcissists often portray themselves as shameless, that is part of the act, they are extremely self-conscious. Humiliating them often results in them losing control of the image they've built, which causes avoidance and denial. So… theoretically, if I were to out-do him in the area that seems to boost his ego the most, which is clearly sex, he would back off.” Spencer explains, pulling you into his lap.

“Baby, even though we both know its true, if I told him you’re better in bed, he’d just deny it and get more aggressive.” You smile at him, kissing his cheek and wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands fall to your waist.

“That’s true, so what if we had some… evidence... to back it up?” Spencer asks, blush appearing on his cheeks as you let out an exaggerated gasp. “Doctor Spencer Reid! Are you suggesting we film ourselves having sex to scare off my ex?!” You playfully hit his chest in mock-shock.

“I- yeah- yes-, b- but only if you’re comfortable with it- there’s no way he would share it, so there’s no risk o-” he stutters before you cut him off with a kiss.

“Yeah?… You wanna prove you can fuck me better? Got a big dick, long fingers, a good ass tongue, and know how to use ‘em, huh?” You ask seductively, slowly grinding yourself onto him in slow, teasing circles.

Mouth open in a silent groan, he looks down at your hips grinding on him before looking back up to you, open mouth turning into a smirk. “Worth a try,” He breathes, pushing his hips up into yours, swallowing your whimpers with a kiss, pulling you in by the the back of your neck.

Not breaking the kiss, he undoes your bra and pulls it off, running his hands up your sides to your chest. “Well he got one thing right; these ‘tits of yours’ are gorgeous.” He gropes your chest with his large hands as you giggle.

He stands up with you in his arms and flips you around, tossing you on the bed and climbing over you, sucking on the pulse point of your neck. “Can’t believe you used to let him touch you like I do,” Spencer growls into you, kissing over the mark he’s made.

“trust me, baby, he never touched me like you do- ah!”

You’re breathing heavy and whining as he teases you, no doubt trying to get you all worked up so you’ll show off just how desperate he makes you.

His hand traces shapes along your hip bone while moving lower down your body. He begins kissing along your chest, sucking and nipping as one of his hands dips beneath the band of your panties.

He teases you, laying his large hand flat over your lower stomach, applying a bit of pressure as his slender fingers dip into the crease of your inner thigh, touching you everywhere but where you need him.

You whine and wiggle your hips, desperate for some sort of relief from the swirling need in your core, but to your dismay he just continues teasing, pulling his hand out from your panties and running his middle and ring fingers over the mound of your clothed pussy.

You gasp as his fingers run down to the damp spot over your entrance. A groan muffled by your chest falls from his mouth as he attempts to press into you through the fabric before his fingers come back up to your clothed clit, moving in slow circles, pressing hard against you as your hips buck into the friction of the fabric.

“Spencer,” You moan, but it’s more like a plea, a plea for him to do something more, anything, really.

He chuckles at you, deciding that he’s done teasing (for now). He hooks his fingers in the band of your panties and pulls them off your hips and down your legs with a little help from you.

He moves down your body, sitting in between your thighs, torso hovering over your pelvis to get a good view of his work.

You let out a whine at the lack of touch. “Mm, impatient are we?” He mutters, running his hands over your upper thighs and spreading them wider. He grabs your phone off the bed and swipes over to the camera, keeping the camera flipped to the sheets, and hits record.

Humming in delight, he spreads you open with this thumbs, “Always so fucking wet for me,” he praises, gently rubbing up your pussy with his middle and ring fingers, pressing against your clit.

“Baby,” You gasp into a moan as your opening clenches around nothing and your clit pulses at the sudden touch. Spencer’s pupils are blown wide with lust as he gazes at you letting out little gasps and moans, completely enamoured by your body, bottom lip stuck beneath his teeth. “Fuck, sugar.”

One of his hands pulls your folds open while the other one plays with you. His middle finger runs up and down your folds, collecting your slick and rubbing it over your clit before teasing your entrance.

You whimper and push back against his digits, desperately trying to get his long, thick, skilled fingers inside you.

Slowly, he dips his middle and ring fingers into you, curling them slightly as he pushes them as far as they will go inside you, making you cry and writhe against him. His other hand works slow circles over your clit as he begins thrusting his fingers in and out of you faster and faster.

Little uh, uh, uh's fall from your lips as he pumps in and out of you. He bites his lip in concentration and lust, the wet sounds of your pussy reverberating around the room only heightening his arousal.

"That feel good, baby?"

"Mhm!" you cry out, eyes clamping shut in pleasure.

“Yeah?” he teases, smirking as he watches your eyes flutter shut once he starts rubbing that spot inside inside you that makes your vision turn white. Your jaw hangs open as strained moans leave your mouth, your hips arch off the bed, and your hands grip the sheets as you reach your first orgasm.

Spencer groans as he feels your muscles clench around him and your release gush around his digits, his hard cock twitching and leaking in his boxers. He slows his pace, helping you through your high with the consistent stimulation his gentle touches bring you.

“Good girl,” He whispers in that sexy grainy voice of his. You giggle breathlessly as you reach to stop the recording, looking down at him just when he pulls his fingers out of you.

Bringing them up to his mouth, he lets his tongue fall out, moaning in delight at your taste as sucks your arousal off his fingers, “Fuck, baby, I need to taste you.”

You wiggle your hips in anticipation as he hooks his forearms under your thighs and grabs your waist, his large hands almost covering the entirety of your abdomen. He lowers himself down, kissing and nibbling from your knee to the base of your thigh.

He roughly sucks and bites at your inner thighs, wanting to make marks that last for at least a week, marks that you’ll feel whenever your plush thighs brush together. He switches thighs while absentmindedly rubbing at your clit; too softly to get you off, but just enough to make you needy.

Just as predicted, you become a whiney, needy mess in a matter of minutes. You’re only knocked out of the pleasure-filled haze when Spencer pauses his attack to lean his smug face against your abused thigh and mumble, “He never went down on you, did he, sugar? ‘s that why you were so confused the first time I told you I wanted to?”

He phrases it like a question, but you know he already knows the answer. You avert his eyes when you nod your head, blush appearing on your cheeks as he coo’s.

“Awe, poor baby… ‘should show him what he was missing, yeah?” He mumbles, nipping the flesh of your thigh, his fingers still working gently over your clit. You whine, bucking into the sensation as you nod your head. “Go on, sugar, set up the camera,"

He goes back to sucking bruises onto your thighs as you prop the camera up on the plant pot that lives on your bedside table, angling it so the focus is on Spencer, and hit record.

Once you lay back down, he tightens his grip on your waist, keeping you in place as he licks a fat stripe up your pussy.

You let out a startled moan, slipping a hand into his messy curls and tugging, earning a groan from him. He kitten licks around your clit and down to your entrance, pulling away momentarily as your back arches off the bed to mutter, “god, you taste fucking incredible.”

He switches between flicking his tongue over your clit and lapping at the slick pouring from your opening, listening to your sweet cries. His tongue increasing its pace as wet, lewd, sounds from his mouth lapping at your pussy fill your hot bedroom.

Spencer watches from between your thighs as your eyes roll back, fluttering shut as your pretty lips part, letting out a strangled cry of pleasure as he suckles on your swollen clit.

Your squeezing your thighs around his head as you rock your hips into his face as you yank on his hair. Spencer groans, holding you in place as your thighs tremble, never stopping his attack on your cunt as your orgasm courses through your body.

He takes his time working you through your high and then cleaning you up, savouring the taste of your arousal as if it's not permanently stored in his mind through his eidetic memory and the sheer amount of times he's used his mouth on you.

He licks at you until your whimpering and physically can't take the overstimulation anymore, pushing his head away from your sopping cunt. He grins at you, lips and chin wet with a mix of your slick and his saliva as he licks his lips and pants, still catching his breath.

He crawls up your body, licking up your neck to your jaw, placing a sloppy kiss on your lips before throwing a smug look at the camera and stopping the recording, tossing the phone into the sheets as he goes back to kissing you, his soft lips mixing with yours.

You whine when you taste yourself on his tongue, that warm feeling in your core returning, and you know only one thing will calm your needy body.

You reach down, fingers tracing the lines of Spencer's toned stomach, dipping into his boxers, and gripping his cock.

He hisses at your touch, "fu-uck- we- we don't have to, sugar, you don't need to- I can ju-"

"I wanna. I want you..."

You hook your heel around his hip and flip the two of you over, so you're on top, biting your lip and moving so you're straddling his upper thighs.

You pull his rock hard cock out, stroking it as you watch Spencer's head fall back against the pillows, mouth open in a silent moan.

You fish for your phone in the covers while you continue stroking him, loving the way his eyebrows knit together and his chest rises and falls sporadically.

You grab your phone and move up further, so your pussy is right at the base of your boyfriends dick, his hard cock resting on your tummy, the tip hitting just below your belly button.

You snap the photo, and grin when you see the filthy image. Your perfectly manicured hand is placed delicately over the base of his cock, his tip is an angry red, and has a bead of precum collecting and threatening to spill against your stomach as you show off his length.

It's perfectly sinful, and you can feel yourself getting wet just looking at it. You can't stand to wait any longer, lifting your hips off him and grabbing Spencer to direct his tip to your core.

You rub his tip through your folds to lubricate it, just like Spencer always does before entering you, with your bottom lip stuck between your teeth, and he swears he could cum just at the sight.

Your hands find purchase on his pelvis, bracing yourself as your eyebrows knit together and your eyes flutter shut as you sink down onto him.

Finally bottoming out, you feel perfectly full, the light stretch his thickness brings you feels incredible. His hands find their place on your defined hip-bones as you breathe, getting used to the sensation.

Once you know you're ready, you flex your thigh muscles and lift your hips slightly, and with the help of Spencers hands on your hips you start to create a steady rhythm, fucking yourself down on to your boyfriends fat dick.

"Baby," Spencer gasps, sounding like he's had the breath punched out of him. You manage to smirk at him, despite the moans falling from your mouth as you start to thrust your hips down faster and faster.

"So beautiful like this, sugar- god, look at you, fucking desperate for it, taking what you need from me- fuck-" He goans, dilated pupils gazing at you with nothing but lust. You feel to tight and warm around him, Spencer can't help himself; he begins thrusting his hips up to meet yours, hitting that one spot inside you perfectly over and over again.

You yelp out a moan and twitch as your orgasm flows through your whole body, like giant waves rolling over you. Your toes curl and your nails scratch even marks down his toned chest, earning a hiss from him.

Your thighs stutter and begin losing the rhythm you created, hunching forward over his chest. Spencer takes the hint and plants his feet firmly on the bed before he begins thrusting up into you at a quick pace, forcing a yelp out of you as you fall onto his chest.

You can hear his whimpers and groans in your ear as he chases his orgasm, biting his shoulder to hold back your screams.

"Ah! hng- harder, please...," You moan into his neck, and Spencer's resolve finally cracks. He grips your hips harder and forces your hips down onto him, forcing his cock fully into you every time.

You gasp brokenly and surge forward to kiss him sloppily, moaning absurdly loudly in between kisses, scratching and yanking at his scalp.

"I- I'm so close! Spence- please-," You moan into his mouth, nails digging into his shoulders, leaving red crescent moons in their wake.

"Shit- me too sugar-"

"please! please... wanna feel it in me..."

He groans, looking down at where he's thrusting into you, reaching down to toy with your clit as you attempt to fuck yourself down onto him, despite how Spencer's caged you in.

"Spencer-," you cry out as you cum for the final time, completely at his mercy. Your pussy clenching and fluttering around him as you gush around him.

His hips lift off the mattress, pulling you flush against him and rubbing your clit impossibly faster as he pumps you full of his cum, jaw hanging open in ecstasy as his high washes over him. You all but scream in pure pleasure, your body spasming as more liquid spurts out of you.

When you come down, you feel the steady rise and fall of Spencers chest as he pants under you, not even daring to move off him. Spencer's hand cards through your messy curls, as you catch your breath, grinning down at him.

Once the two of you catch your breath, he pulls out of you with a choked breath and you roll off him with a whine. He quickly pads over to the bathroom to grab a damp cloth to clean you up and some water for the both of you.

Before he can even start to clean you up, you stop him. He gives you a quizzical look when you hand him your phone, but you just bite your lip nervously. "I- um- I never let him fuck me without a condom, he'll hate it..." You mumble, and you swear you can see his cock twitch when his eyes widen.

Without another comment, he blushes and snaps a picture of your fucked out body on top of the wrinkled sheets. You body is shining with a thin layer of sweat, your hair flowing across your shoulders and the pillow under your head, Spencer's cum dripping slowly out of your sopping pussy.

He cleans you up and makes sure you drink water, changing the sheets while you get ready for bed in the bathroom, and then happily holding you as you fall asleep in his arms.

Before falling asleep himself, he opens your phone and sends your ex a message.

—

23:25 - You: *Attachment: 2 images, 2 videos*

23:25 - You: She is doing just fine without you.

More of my stuff can be found here.

~ Ivy 🪴

[jamdoughnutmagician]

Sugar, Pretty Baby...

Eddie Munson x Female Reader

Summary:After a successful date at the movies, Eddie takes you back to his trailer where things take an unexpected, but not unwelcome turn I suck at summaries oh my goddd 

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Making Out, Thigh Riding, Vaginal Fingering, Oral Sex (F Receiving), Missionary Position, Declarations of Love, If i’m missing anything feel free to shoot me a message so I can tag it.

Word Count:2,117 (oops, this one runs a little long I hope you don’t mind)

Authour’s Note: This is sort of a part 2 to From Me to You but you don’t necessarily have to read that to follow this. I was inspired/gently encouraged by @billybluboy to write a part 2 that was absolutely filthy and I think I accomplished that. 

Masterlist

True to his word, Eddie picked you up at 7pm on the dot, ready for your movie date. He was a true gentleman through and through, although you already knew that. Holding your hand, and intertwining his fingers with yours, swinging your joined hands between the two of you whilst you walked.

And now after watching the movie, you were sitting in his van as he drove you back to his trailer.

"I had a great time today, thank you for agreeing to go out with me” he chuckles nervously.

“I had a great time too, Ed” you beam back at him.

He gets out his van and quickly rushes around to the passenger’s seat door to open it for you.

“Ever the gentleman..” you giggle as you make your way out of his van.

Taking your hand in his, he leads you to his trailer.

“Wayne’s working nights, so it’s just us tonight.” He says, pushing through the door.

“Oh, really?” you say with a hopeful look in your eyes “Just us?”

“Yup..nobody else around..just me..and you” he says lowly his brown eyes flicking down to your lips.

Taking your opportunity, you lean up,with your hands tenderly holding his face, and press your lips to his in a sweet kiss. His lips are chapped and taste slightly sweet, a reminder of the popcorn you’d shared on your date.

“I’d been wanting to do that all evening” you admit shyly.

His lips are back on your in an instant, one of his large hands splayed holding your hips, the other cupping your cheek to bring you closer to him. His tongue sweeps across your lower lip, before slipping in and deepening the kiss, desperate to taste you.

He walks you back to the couch in the living room, before sitting down. You take the initiative to straddle his spread thighs, and continue to kiss him. Your lips are eager to be on back on his. Your kisses begin to trail their way from his lips down, burying your head in the crook of his neck whilst your lips work to leave open-mouthed kisses on the exposed skin, and suck claiming bruises on his throat.

Feeling you leave hickeys on his neck gave Eddie a strange sense of pride. He was always going to be yours, no questions asked, but now he had a reminder of how much he meant to you.

Whilst he indulged you in your quest to suck dark bruises into his skin, Eddie had his own ideas. His large ring-adorned fingers found themselves shamelessly gripping onto the soft flesh exposed by your short skirt. He wonders if you chose this short skirt knowing that this would be how you two were going to end up? 

Your hips are rolling themselves against his lap, and underneath the dark denim of his jeans, he feels his cock stirring, beginning to press against the seams of his boxers.

Smirking against his neck you pull away, and look at him. His brown eyes look to you with lust and a flush is creeping across his features. 

“Eddie, are you hard?” you gently tease.

“Well, what did you expect? I’ve got a pretty girl sitting in my lap, and she’s kissing me like it’s her favourite thing to do” he lightly chuckles.

“That’s because it is my favourite thing to do. You wanna do something about it?”

“Not yet, Sweetheart..I’m kind of enjoying just seeing you sitting so pretty in my lap like that.”

“Oh.” That wasn’t what you were expecting to hear. Most guys were all too ready to get straight to the sex, but this admission from Eddie made your heart swell with adoration for him. Even in this increasingly sexual situation, he still found time to be the sweet Eddie that you knew him to be.

"Sit up a moment, Sugar' Eddie asks, his hands still holding their place on your hips. "Want you to rock against my thigh just a little" He flashes you a cheeky grin.

You throw each of your legs over his thigh and begin rocking yourself over the rough denim of his jeans. His fingers are playing along the hem of your skirt, and his eyes are locked on yours as you nod your head, giving him the go-ahead to flip your skirt up. His eyes glaze over upon seeing the growing wet patch on your panties. The combined feeling of your wet panties, and his jeans are creating the most delicious friction as you shamelessly grind your hips over his thigh.  

However much Eddie was enjoying watching you roll your hips on his thigh, he needed to see you. All of you.

“Sugar, I wanna see you…I wanna see my pretty baby..” he mumbles out, as his lips are leaving trailing kisses all over your neck.

“Only if I get to see you too, Handsome” you wink teasingly.

“Fuck… Yeah..okay, okay, Sweets. Give me a moment.” 

You swing off his thigh, and move to stand up. You watch as he all too quickly tugs his shirt over his head, and works on unbuttoning his jeans, and hooking his fingers to pull his boxers and jeans down in one quick motion.

You use this time to admire him in all his naked glory, eyes taking in the details of each of his tattoos. Having only ever fantasised about this moment, you want to savour every second of it.

“I’m feeling a little left out here, Sweets..Will you let me see all of you?” he says, his eyes looking over you, his hand dropping down to lazily tug at his hard cock.

You are quick to slip your panties down your legs, along with your skirt. Gripping the hem of your shirt in crossed hands you pull the shirt up and over your head. Sneaking your hand behind your back, your fingers make quick work of popping the clasp of your bra before taking it off.

Eddie takes you by your hand as he motions for you to lay down on the couch. You open up your legs, to give him space to get comfortable between your thighs. However, what you weren’t expecting was for him to settle between your thighs, with his face so close to your wet centre.

“Can I taste you, Sugar?” Eddie asks, his voice taking on a seductive tone.

You nod your head, not confident in your own voice at this moment.

His tongue darts out the wet his lips, before he moves in closer, taking one long firm swipe through your folds, the tip of his tongue coming up to flick over your clit. His tongue swirls around your clit a few times, before he sucks it between his plump pink lips, causing your hands to reach down to tangle in his mess of hair, needing something to keep you grounded.

“Can you take one of my fingers, Sweets?” he mumbles against your wet heat.

“Mhmm” you nod, your eyes closed, feeling too blissed out to form any kind of coherent sentence.

He slowly works one of his long fingers inside you, whilst his tongue is drawing lazy patterns over your clit. His fingers are working in and out of you, curling themselves upwards in a way that has you moaning a little more louder than before, letting him know that he’s found your spot. He slips one more of his fingers inside you, and continues on his mission to get you off. His other hand is splayed on your lower stomach, keeping you right where you are, and adding a gentle pressure, the chill of his clunky metal rings against the warmth of your skin is a welcomed sensation. 

 You can feel him grinning against you, as his tongue and fingers continued fucking you.

The ever increasing knot tying itself together in the pit of your stomach threatening to snap at any moment. The only sounds in the otherwise quiet trailer are your high pitched moans and the obscene sounds of Eddie slurping up your sweet juices like he needed it to survive.

“Come on, Sweets, you’re close..Can feel how tight you're squeezing on my fingers..She wants to come for me..” 

It didn’t take very much more until the knot in the pit of your stomach snapped and you were thrashing out your release against Eddie’s face.

As you slowly come down from your high, you look down between your thighs where Eddie is unashamedly sucking his fingers into his mouth, cleaning off your wetness.

“mmm..Tastes so sweet, baby” his teeth shining with a wide grin.

‘You’re unbelievable, Eddie Muson.” you laugh.

“Well thank you, I do try.” he says smugly. “I’ve gotta be inside you now babe, I’m so hard, it’s killing me” he admits, his tone becoming more desperate.

“Well, what are you waiting for, prettyboy?” Eddie’s face flushes at your gentle teasing nickname. The sudden realisation that, oh, he liked being your prettyboy, hitting him hard.

Reaching down to his discarded jeans, he rifles through his pockets until he finds a condom.

“Were you hoping to get lucky tonight?”not being able to resist the urge to tease him once more.

“A guy can only hope, right?” he smirks, tearing open the condom and rolling down his length.

Holding his hand on one of your hips, he slowly guides himself inch by inch inside your hot wet cunt, giving you time to adjust to his size.

“You okay?” he checks in with you.

“Y-yeah feels good, Ed…Keep going..Please..” you whine.

He keeps sliding into you until he's all the way inside you.

"You still good, Sugar?" his brown eyes looking down at you with love.

“Yeah.. I-I’m still good, Ed” 

The stretch of his thick cock so deep inside you feels so good. 

His hips pull back almost all the way before they thrust forward to meet your hips. He keeps the first few rolls of his hips gentle, almost as he’s frightened that you might break. Then he feels the heels of your feet digging into his backside and your arms holding tight around him, with your fingernails digging into the skin of his back. 

Leaning your head up, you take his earlobe between your teeth and tug gently before whispering in his ear.

“Want it harder, big boy”

He swears his mind completely blanks for a moment, before his hips are snapping into action, thrusting into you deep and hard. The sounds of skin hitting skin and your combined moans echoing off the trailer walls.

He’s pounding into you hard, everytime hitting that spot inside you that has you clenching around him in pleasure.

“Fuck…Sweetheart…You feel so fucking good” he grunts out, punctuating his words with harsh thrusts.

Your chest is rising and falling with heavy breaths, and your eyes are glossy from just how good he’s making you feel.

“Swear this sweet cunt was just made for me”  his hips continue to thrust deep into you.

He reaches his hand down, using his skilled guitarists fingers to play with your clit. He’s rubbing over your sensitive nub in quick tight circles, and you can feel your orgasm drawing nearer. 

“Kiss me..Ed..please..” you voice whines out desperately.

He leans his head down to capture your lips in a filthy clash of tongues, swallowing your moans. 

“Fuck…I love you…Fuck.” He rasps out.

His fingers find your clit once more, as he rubs it in tighter circles.

“You close Sweets? You gonna come for me?” 

All you can do at this point is nod, no other thoughts in your brain apart from your Eddie.

He rolls his hips a few more times and passes his fingers over your sensitive clit and that’s all it takes before your body tenses and your pussy squeezes tightly around him with your orgasm. 

That’s what does it for Eddie, the feeling of your hot pulsing cunt squeezing him, hips stilling whilst  he spills his release into the condom. 

He halts for a moment, still inside you, to lean down to kiss you once more in a softer, more gentle kiss.

“I meant it..y’know…” he says “I do love you.” 

“Eddie…” you say sweetly.

“Now, I know we’ve technically only been on one date, but we’ve known each other for so long, I’m pretty sure I’ve been in love with you ever since I’ve known you.” he rambles.

You silence his rambles with a press of your lips to his.

“Good, because I love you too” you smile back at him.

His heart swells. It may have been an unconventional first date, but Eddie’s sure he wouldn’t have had it any other way.

[cupidjyu]

good for you

jacob x reader (requested by the one and only @zzoguri!!)

the 3 times you and jacob could have had something more and the 1 time you actually did.

genre: best friends to lovers, university au, pining by mostly jacob, confessions, misunderstandings, mentioned exes, reader has abandonment issues oops, kissing for practice, cuddles, their love language is sleeping together, gentle kind understanding sweetie jacob notes: i hope you enjoy this !!! i loved writing this request!!! <33 and again, im sorry this took so long :( see you whenever i can! word count: 14.7k

“You’re a lifesaver,” You groaned once you noticed Jacob entering your dorm with a paper bag of freshly baked cookies in his hand. You jumped off your bed, slightly crumpling the endless papers of notes laid out across your sheets. Stumbling over to where he was staring at you with concern, you clung to his arm, cupped his face with one hand, and pressed an obnoxiously loud kiss on his cheek.

“Is it that bad?” He stared at you, unimpressed. 

“Yeah?” You narrowed your eyes at him before snatching the bag from him and bounding back to splay out your bed.

“Didn’t you say that you were going to stop eating sugar? Yesterday?” He followed you further into your dorm. He set down all of his things and put back all of the clutter that was laid out on your table and the floor. He knew where everything went after the countless times he’s lounged around here.

“Okay but I cannot stay awake without sugar and I have an exam tomorrow,” You grumbled, gesturing for him to sit next to you. You turned back to your computer, rolling onto your stomach and scrolling through the endless slideshows to try to pretend like you were retaining any information. Frankly, you were more focused on the delicious cookies melting in your mouth.

He shrugged, silently reaching over and organizing your papers. He knew that you often got stressed when your environment was messy. You made no effort to keep it clean though because he always did it for you.

“And how was your day, Cobie?” You mumbled, glancing at him briefly before turning back to your notes, You shifted slightly on the bed, allowing him space to lie down next to you.

“Boring. And you shouldn’t be studying on your bed, you know. You always fall asleep.”

You huffed. “Just because you’re my best friend doesn’t mean you have to dote on me.”

“You know I’m right.” He smirked.

“I won’t, I promise.”

“But you always fall asleep. Like last time.”

You rolled your eyes, burying your face in your arms. “Stop bringing that up. It’s been five years already.”

“But I’ll never forgive you for embarrassing me in front of Sunwoo.”

“C’mon, you always let him tease you anyway,” You retorted.

Your eyelids threatened to shut any minute now. You had managed to find a spot to finally escape the stress that was called high school responsibilities. It wasn’t the most comfortable spot though–against the brick wall of the building, sitting on the concrete floor. Still, you couldn’t care less, enjoying the sun that perfectly hit the side of your face as your uniform fluttered in the wind.

After that point, you didn’t know what happened until you woke up. But Jacob had vividly described it to you because he found it that amusing. Though, he always told the story with a fond smile on his face.

“Can you pass the ball?” Another student called out to you. His uniform was messy and crinkled after playing with his friends for so long. When he noticed no response, he jogged over to pick up the soccer ball that rolled over and knelt down. He snickered slightly, tilting his head to peer at you curiously. “That can’t be comfortable…” He muttered. 

Silently, he contemplated what to do. Ultimately, he stood up. Not to leave you, but to kick the soccer ball back to his friends. Then, he turned back to you and gently lowered himself down to your side. Almost immediately, like a magnet, your head found its way to his shoulder and you were already dozing away. This time, with a lot less neck pain.

His lips quirked up as he played with his fingers quietly. He ignored his friends who were gesturing to him in the distance to come back, instead choosing to lean closer so you could sleep more comfortably. 

But then he heard footsteps approaching.

“Oh, shit!” Sunwoo gasped, slapping a hand over his mouth after appearing from around the corner of the same brick wall.

Jacob jumped, waving with his hands frantically to tell his friend to go away. But Sunwoo only began to jump up and down in excitement.

“Shhhh–” Jacob whispered. “They’re sleeping.”

“You’re dating someo–”

“I don’t even know who the hell this is.”

You smiled to yourself, long roused awake.

You had already heard the whole conversation but found it all too amusing so you ended up pretending to sleep for a few more minutes. Once you were sure that his friend had wandered off somewhere else, you blinked your eyes open. The curiosity got the best of you as you slowly lifted your head up to peer at the mysterious student’s name tag. He’s got an amazing shoulder for a pillow.

“That’s a bit rude, Jacob.”

He jolted once again, turning to you in surprise. You smiled lazily back at him.

“You’re awake.”

“Yeah,” You yawned. “And thanks for your shoulder but also I don’t thank you for not even bothering to look at my nametag.”

“Even if I knew your name, I wouldn’t know who you are.”

“Fair,” You hummed. You looked him over. He had a friendly look to him. Gentle eyes, a nice-looking smile, and brown tousled hair that shone in the sun. “You look like a Jacob.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He raised an eyebrow. “You do know that I gave up my soccer time to let you sleep on my shoulder, right?”

“Shush.” You stuck your tongue out. “It’s not like I forced you to. You’re just too nice with your super nice smile.”

“I can’t tell if you're insulting me or complimenting me.”

“Both.” You leaned your head back against the wall with a tired sigh. Then you turned back to him with a mischievous smile before setting your hand out for him to shake it. “Friends?”

He blinked at you. And then he smiled back and took your hand in his. “Friends.”

“I’m tired of this,” You whispered, thumping your forehead against your now-closed computer. 

“At least look this over.” He held out one of your papers, with a title clearly underlined with red. “Looks important.”

“It is but—“

“Just one,” He encouraged. “I’ll hold it for you.” And just as he said, he shuffled closer to you, holding the paper for you to read. You sighed but obliged, your eyes scanning over the words. Gradually though, the sentences began to grow blurrier and more jumbled. His arm looked awfully comfortable right now.

“Jacob,” You warned, turning to him. He stared curiously, his face surprisingly close to yours. “Jacob, I’m gonna go.”

“Go where?” He furrowed his eyebrows.

“To sleep.” You grinned before slumping down. No longer were you propped up on your elbows. Instead, you laid down, your cheek squished against his forearm as you snuggled close to his body warmth.

You heard a disappointed yet fond sigh leave his lips. He put down the paper and cleared the bed of everything so you could properly cuddle up to his side.

“You always take care of me,” You mumbled quietly. “Why?”

And for some reason, even with your eyes closed, you could sense his soft smile—the one with the gentle gaze and warm cheeks.

“Because you deserve it.”

—

“You flunked it, didn’t you?” Jacob grinned, standing up from where he was leaning against the wall. “I told you to stop studying on your bed.”

You scowled, walking alongside him. “You shouldn’t have waited for me, I’m getting coffee with a friend.”

He smiled wider. “Right now?”

You froze, staring at him sheepishly. You shifted on your feet. “…no. But soon.”

He hummed. “Good, cause I’m giving you this.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a necklace. It was beautiful with an opal charm in the middle. 

You stared at it with awe in your eyes and then turned your gaze up to Jacob. Already, you could feel tears prick your vision at which he only chuckled at the sight.

“Don’t cry,” He giggled, reaching an arm around you to pull you close to his chest.

“Why?” You pouted. “Did I miss my own birthday or something?”

“No,” He laughed. “I just wanted to give it to you. I thought of you when I saw it.”

You narrowed your eyes through sniffles before slapping his chest weakly. “How much was it?”

He shook his head. “It was on sale, so it was  cheap.”

You nodded before lightly touching your own bare neck. You smiled at your best friend.

“I want to put it on,” You stated, reaching your hand out. 

“Okay,” He whispered. But instead of placing the necklace in your palm, he stepped forward and reached his arms around your neck to clasp it on himself. He moved any strands of hair that were in the way, his fingertips just grazing over the back of your neck. You shivered and stayed completely still, staring straight ahead into his chest with wide eyes. 

It felt like hours but he finally stepped back with a soft smile.

“I knew it would suit you.”

You beamed. Just before you were about to say anything else, you heard a voice call out your name. It was your friend, standing just meters away waving excitedly.

“I have to go,” You said, looking at Jacob with bright eyes. 

“See you at your dorm?” He joked.

You thought for a moment before nodding. “Sure, I’ll bring ramen.”

“I was jok—“

“Still, I need my pillow to sleep on tonight.”

“My arm or my chest?” He lifted an eyebrow.

“Still deciding!” You called out, running towards your friend. You skipped over to her and immediately started rambling about your new necklace.

“It’s pretty!” She fawned. “Sometimes I think you’re actually dating.”

You gawked and immediately started laughing. “No! That’s— that’s so wrong.”

She blinked at you, completely confused.

“Have you seen the way he looks at you?”

I.

It was stuck in your head–what your friend said. He looked at you like any completely normal person. He always had a friendly, caring expression on his face simply because that was his nature. There was nothing different and nothing more in your relationship except friendship. 

You couldn’t focus on that anymore though since you were now caught up in a game of truth or dare. After exams, the whole floor of your dorm decided to gather for a party. You hated going alone and so of course, you had to bring Jacob. 

The two of you tried to sit together on the floor but quickly became separated by the amount of people crowded into one room. You frowned, settling onto the floor next to two complete strangers.

Help me, You mouthed to him.

He shrugged. Wanna leave? He mouthed back.

You shook your head. This will be fun.

He nodded and turned his attention back to the bottle spinning in the middle of the circle, about to choose its first victim. It slowly came to a stop, landing on a guy who you remembered his name to be Sangyeon. He was nice. He once let you borrow his umbrella.

“Truth or dare?” Eric leaned excitedly.

“Dare.”

“I dare you to… text the person you have a crush on and ask them out on a date!” 

Sangyeon’s eyes widened in horror. Reluctantly, he pulled out his phone and soon, it was like the whole population was crowding around him, cheering giddily when Sangyeon began to text a message. 

You locked eyes with Jacob who’s across the room, obviously out of place. You smiled with amusement and silently shuffled over to him. 

“I don’t get this game,” He grumbled.

“You don’t get any fun. You only like soccer and basketball since you’re so good at it.” A familiar image appeared in your mind of Jacob, left only in the white dress shirt of his school uniform, wiping sweat off his forehead as he easily shot a goal.

“Thanks.” Jacob grinned stupidly.

“I wasn’t complimenting you.”

“Alright.” He eyed you skeptically. “So can we please not get separated again?”

“We can try,” You mumbled. Without a warning, your hand trailed down to his, grabbing hold of it and placing your intertwined hands in your lap. He stared at it briefly before clearing his throat and looking away.

“Is that the most effective way?” He muttered.

“I said I’d try,” You whined, your eyes traveling over to where the crowd around Sangyeon began to dissipate back into its circle. You were confident that no one would notice that you had switched places. But of course, Sunwoo, who was so adamant about going to the exact same college as Jacob because he “admires him so much” (he actually just wanted someone to pay for his meals occasionally), noticed your connected hands.

“No PDA!” He dramatically yelled, covering his eyes with his hands. Everyone immediately turned to look at the two of you.

Jacob immediately pulled his hand out of your grasp almost like you burned him. You groaned and glared at Sunwoo.

“And go back to your normal seat,” Sunwoo smiled teasingly. “Get off your boyfriend for just a minute.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” You gritted out, standing up and stalking back to your original seat. You plopped back down on the floor and stared at Jacob with clear anger in your gaze.

He’s annoying. You glanced at the smug boy who was still smiling proudly over the fact that he separated two perfectly normal best friends.

Tell me about it. Jacob rolled his eyes, leaning back against his palms as his eyes wandered down to where the bottle was spinning again. This time, it landed on the stranger next to you. He wasn’t bad-looking and had a polite aura to him.

Eric gasped excitedly. “Juyeon! Truth or dare?”

The man thought for a second, humming. His voice was deep, you realized.

“Dare?” 

Almost instantly, Eric was leaning forward. He must have rehearsed this dare like his life depended on it. “Kiss the person on the left of you.”

It took Juyeon a while to process what Eric just said. But when he finally did, he whipped his head to look at you with wide eyes and flushed cheeks. You stared back, completely bewildered. 

“That’s cruel,” You groaned, staring at Eric in disbelief. “We don’t even know each other that well.”

“Fine,” Eric huffed. “On the cheek at least.”

Juyeon continued to stare at you, his gaze gentle and understanding. “Sorry,” He whispered sheepishly. “I can’t drink this one off. I’m a huge lightweight.”

You shook your head with a kind smile. “It’s fine. Just get it over with.” 

Juyeon nodded and he leaned in. You turned your head slightly so that he wouldn’t have to twist his neck in an awkward position. Just as you were about to focus on the lips being pressed to your cheek, your gaze locked with someone else’s. More specifically, Jacob’s.

Your breath hitched and your heart seized. There was something different about his gaze. It was filled with a flame and you could see that his jaw was clenched ever so slightly. His hands fidgeted as his eyes stared straight into yours, his eyebrows slightly furrowed.

It felt like time had slowed down. You watched as he leaned forward, propped his elbows on his knees, and tilted his head, obviously annoyed. Over what? You weren’t too sure. But you could see through the way his jaw tightened further that something was genuinely bothering him. Yet why was he only looking at you?

You were so focused on Jacob that you didn’t even realize that Juyeon was already pulling away.

Everyone in the room was cheering over the measly cheek kiss but it all felt silent to you. Your ears began to ring as you stared straight at Jacob, his eyes filled with a clear anger tinged with a small bit of hurt. 

You tilted your head worriedly.

Are you okay?

He blinked, his eyes softening. It was like what came over him just magically disappeared. Yeah.

You stared at him quietly before nodding. One more and then we leave.

He eagerly agreed, his head bobbing much like a puppy’s. You huffed out a laugh. You should have never dragged him out with you.

“Who’s next?” Eric spoke up loudly. Everyone’s attention turned back to the bottle that was spinning. You held your breath watching as it slowly came to a stop. You turned your gaze up to see who it was pointing at and—

You winced. 

Jacob stared at you with wide eyes before pointing at himself. You nodded with a grimace. 

Sorry.

He shook his head with a smile before turning to face Eric who was practically brimming with excitement. 

“Truth or dare?”

Jacob sighed. “Truth.”

Eric groaned. “Boring. But fine, I can make this fun.”

Jacob waited patiently. He was always patient—so patient that it annoyed you. You were always the one to tease and annoy him yet he took it like it was his sole job. Even if you could tell he was getting ticked off, he continued to smile and play along.

“Don’t you want to see my performance?” You twirled in your new outfit.

Jacob shook his head. “Not now, I have an art project due. You look pretty though.”

And you should have stopped there and said thank you. But instead, you continued to cling onto him and ramble in his ear.

At some point, in a flash of color, you knocked over the cup that Jacob used to wash his paintbrushes.

You watched in horror as it spilled over his painting. He only stared silently.

“I-I’m sorry, Cobie,” You whispered. 

“It’s fine,” He muttered, standing up and picking up the soaking-wet canvas. “I’ll just go dry it off.”

You gulped, searching his face for any sort of frustration. He definitely looked disappointed but… nothing else.

“Wait.” You stopped him, your hand coming to his wrist. You promptly ignored the cold feeling of the water that spilled over your new clothes as well.“Are you mad? Let me make it up to you. I can do the whole project for you if you want.”

Jacob turned to you, his expression blank. But much to your surprise, his face softened into a reassuring smile, his gaze gentle and warm. He set the canvas down and stepped forward, pulling you closer in the process.

“No,” He whispered. “You make everything look more beautiful anyway.” He turned to look at where the canvas which was previously plain and gray, was now splashed with a mix of colors.

You frowned. “But—“ 

“I’m more mad that your new clothes are ruined.” He paused, stepping back and looking you over. Then, he scrunched his nose teasingly. “It was pretty.”

“Jacob,” You huffed. How could he be so unbothered by this? You ruined his project that he had been working on for days yet he was more worried over you? “This is not about me.”

His eyes sparkled.

“I can always make it about you.”

“Okay! I got one!” Eric exclaimed, sitting up. “If you could date anyone in this room, who would it be?”

Everyone fell silent, staring at Jacob like curious cats. You weren’t any different, desperately wanting to know his answer. Jacob never spoke about his dating life. In fact, whenever you asked him if he had a crush on anyone, he would immediately reply no.

Much to your dismay, he didn’t say a word. His lips were shut as he stared around the room like a deer in headlights. 

“So?” Sunwoo pried.

Jacob gulped, his cheeks slowly turning red. And then his eyes landed on yours. When you stared back, he instantly tore his gaze away. But you quickly noticed a pattern. He would look at something, then back at you, at something else, and then back at you.

Your breath hitched. 

Why are you looking at me?

He widened his eyes and adamantly stared at the floor instead. I’m not, You could see him whisper to himself. The two of you always had conversations across the classroom during your high school days, hence your great skill of reading lips.

Jacob, you have to answer.

I can’t—

“It’s Y/n isn’t it?” Eric finally spoke up, wiggling his eyebrows with a knowing look.

His head shot up and his eyebrows furrowed. “I didn’t even say anything.”

“You were looking.”

“No, I—“ He groaned, his cheeks reddening further by the minute. “I was looking because I always look for them. Not because I would date them.”

Sunwoo snorted. “Do you hear yourself?”

“What?”

“I always look for them.” 

Jacob froze. And now, he refused to look you in the eye. “I…”

“Hey,” You spoke up with a frown on your face. “He doesn’t want to answer, let him off. It’s obviously not me.”

Jacob’s gaze wandered to yours. There was a sparkle behind his pupils this time, his lips parting as if he’d been keeping a secret all of his life.

“But it is you.”

You inhaled sharply. Tension filled the air, thick enough that even Juyeon stiffened next to you. Eric had grown quiet which was a very rare occurrence and Sunwoo’s jaw was dropped.

You forced yourself to shake out of your trance. Abruptly, you stood up and grabbed your things. 

“We’re leaving.” You forced a weak smile. “Have fun!” You tried to wish a farewell but instead, your voice came out shaky.

You didn’t even need to look back. Jacob was always behind you.

The walk back to your dorm was painfully quiet. You walked down the hallway, your fists painfully clenched as you periodically squinted your eyes and tried to make any sense of what Jacob had just said. You were filled with a jumble of emotions–a wave of immoral anger for Eric to ask such a question to lead up to this situation in the first place, a relief that you finally escaped that tension-filled party, but most of all, confusion over the fact that Jacob, your best friend of multiple years, had just said he would date you.

When you finally reached your dorm, you took in a sharp breath before whipping around. Jacob, who was biting his lip nervously, came to a halt to stare at you almost in… shame. He refused to look you in the eye which began to annoy you, considering the fact that he kept on staring at you when asked that stupid question just previously.

With a frustrated huff, you walked forward, pinned the side of your forearm against his chest, and pushed him against the wall.

“Jacob, look at me,” You warned, your eyebrows furrowing.

He finally did a guilty look on his face much like a puppy’s. “What? And why’re you pinning me to the wall?”

You scowled. “Because.”

“Because?”

“Just shut up,” You groaned. “Did you mean it? What you said.”

He only gazed at you, completely calm. But something was different. His gaze didn’t just keep its place on your eyes. Occasionally, it would slip down to your lips.

You stepped forward, close enough that you could feel his body's warmth against. You tilted your head, trying to intimidate him. But still, he continued to stare at you like you were a bright flower in the midst of a gray landscape.

“Why aren’t you answering?”

“Because you told me to shut up.” A small grin appeared on his lips.

You groaned once again. “Please, just answer. Did you mean it when you said that you would date me? If so, then I…”

What were you going to say? You weren’t even sure yourself. Would you reject him? Or maybe consider changing the whole trajectory of your life?

But this wasn’t just about you. It was about your relationship which was what you feared most. If he said yes, then surely, your relationship would change. In what way, you didn’t know. But you were scared. A bit curious, but mostly terrified–terrified of losing him in some way.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a quiet sigh.

“Of course not.” 

You blinked, looking at him in surprise. 

He laughed. It was a weird laugh though–nervous, almost like he was still hiding something. But you chose not to dwell on it anymore.

“There was no one else I knew, so I just said you to get out of the situation,” He weakly joked. His eyes darted away.

“Oh,” You stuttered, stepping away and letting your arm fall from his chest. You felt a bit weak. Maybe it was from relief that you didn’t have to consider the possibilities if he said yes. “Yeah, I get it.”

“Mhm,” He hummed, his eyes softening. “You should get some rest. It’s dark.”

“Okay.” You smiled. But before he could turn away, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a tight hug. As an immediate response, he pulled you closer by the waist though he let out a small, confused sound.

“What’s this for?” He squeezed you closer.

“I felt like it.” You nuzzled into his shoulder. Even whilst being surrounded by beer bottles and drunken peers, he still manages to smell good—like a warm cup of sweet tea. You pulled away and peered up at him. “Stay the night?”

He gulped, his eyes widening slightly. “T-to do what?”

You snorted. “To sleep of course. You’re the only one who helps me sleep, you know.”

He followed you inside though he was still hesitant. After the two of you changed into something more comfortable (Jacob even has a change of clothes and a toothbrush in your dorm), you climbed into bed and immediately rested your head on his chest.

“Are you sure you’re in the right state of mind?” He murmured, gently rubbing your side. “You won’t regret this tomorrow?”

You shook your head. “I didn’t drink at all tonight. Why’re you being so cautious all of a sudden?” You pouted. “We always sleep together.”

He hummed. “Just making sure.”

After what you said earlier?

You wouldn’t lie and say that you definitely felt a bit different about asking him to stay over. But he already said that it wasn’t a serious statement. You chose not to think about it any longer, instead choosing to just doze off into his warm embrace. 

He was just your best friend. And a great pillow.

ii.

“I’m going on a date.”

You both hated and loved that phrase. You loved it because it left a thrilling, exciting feeling in your heart. But you mostly loathed it. It left your lips far too many times for your liking. The phrase never ended well. You’ve had a few relationships and obviously, they didn’t work out.

You put much effort into those relationships but never received the same amount. You were always regarded with a weirded-out stare or a quick roll of his eyes. But those were somehow on the higher end of the scale. At the lowest, was when you were insulted and pushed around. It was Jacob who first noticed.

“He’s hurting you.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, your fists clenching with denial. “But he apologized. He said he was just in a bad mood.”

Jacob frowned and took your hands in his, gently spreading your fingers to relax your fists. “No one in a bad mood should insult you or call you names.”

You gulped, tears starting to well up in your eyes. You knew that Jacob was right yet you were afraid of letting go of someone that held so many bright and fun memories.

“Love is hard,” You whispered. 

“It is,” He sighed. “But I’m always here for you.”

You exhaled shakily. You ran through multiple scenarios and possibilities. Some of the imaginary outcomes were positive but most were negative.

“It’s your choice if you want to stay with him. But promise me that if you’re ever hurt, just come find me,” He spoke softly. His hand gently came up to your cheek and wiped a stray tear away. It was at that moment that you realized what true care felt like. It was in the way he never pushed you into making a choice. It was in the way he promised you that he would be there for you. It was in the way his fingertips brushed against your skin.

That was what true care was.

And because of that realization, the very next day, you appeared outside of Jacob’s dorm room with a proud smile on your face.

“We broke up.”

His eyes widened and you could tell he was searching your face for any trace of tears. “Did he–”

“No, I did.”

His expression melted into a softer one. “I’m proud of you.” His lips pulled into a soft smile as he pulled you into his dorm and hugged you to the point that you had to repeatedly shove him until he let go.

“With who?” Jacob looked up from his computer. He watched nonchalantly as you started discarding your coat and bag on his bed. It was normal for you to crash at each other’s dorms. It was so normal that some people had even assumed that you were roommates. That didn’t make sense since there’s only one bed.

You reached into your bag and started pulling out the outfit you chose. “This guy in my literature class. He asked me first and he seems sweet.” He had a kind smile and he was polite. He even helped you pick up your books when you clumsily dropped them on the floor.

He was almost like Jacob. Though Jacob could go to… concerningly high extents sometimes. He tended to drop anything, even if it was a glass cup if he noticed that you were hurt or upset. 

But still, this man who asked you out seemed better than your other dates. It wouldn’t hurt to try. 

Jacob nodded, turning back to his computer while you used his bathroom to change into your date outfit. 

A few minutes later, you open the door and walk out. You don’t even bother to twirl or ask him about his thoughts as you were too busy digging through your bag for your wallet. But then you paused, interrupted by a sharp intake from none other than your best friend.

He was staring at you with his eyes round and his cheeks slightly colored. His gaze wandered down before coming back up to your eyes, his body utterly frozen.

“What?” You asked in confusion. “Does it look bad?”

“No!” He blurted out suddenly. He teared his eyes away, clearing his throat. “It’s just… different.”

You peered at him nervously. Why was he acting so weird? “In a good way or a bad way?”

“Good,” He breathed. He gave you a small yet sweet smile. “You look beautiful.”

“Oh.” Your frown quickly widened into a grin. “Thank you.”

After finally confirming that you did not forget your wallet, you took a seat beside Jacob on his bed. He used to be focused on his computer but it seemed that after you changed outfits, his eyes were darting elsewhere. He was losing his composure for some reason.

You let out a long sigh, rubbing your thighs with the palms of your hands. “Cobie, I’m nervous.” 

He turned to you with a soft look in his eyes. He even shut off his computer, turning his undivided attention to you. “Why?”

You pouted as memories came flooding back of your past relationships. It was always you who was left alone, broken into pieces until Jacob came along to put you together and patch you up. After your failed dates, you began to lose confidence in being able to keep anyone in your life, even if it was someone as loyal as your best friend. 

He always reassured you though.

“I won’t leave you.”

You laughed bitterly through your tears. “How do you know that?” 

After disappearing for almost the whole day, Jacob finally found you, sitting in the dark corner of your closet. You remembered him crouching down next to you and tucking a tear-soaked strand of hair out of your face.

“Because I don’t think that in any universe or timeline, I could stand being torn away from you.” He smiled.

You frowned, blinking away the tears that continued to trail down your cheeks. “Even if I’m undesirable?”

He looked at you taken aback. “Who told you that?”

“Him,” You whispered. Another one of your past dates that didn’t end well. When you had asked him why—why he didn’t want you, he began to list heart-wrenching words that still spun in your head. “He wouldn’t even hug me back because I’m undesirable or whatever.”

And in just a second, you felt a pair of strong arms being wrapped around you.

You inhaled shakily.

“You’re hugging me.”

He hummed and nodded, placing a hand on the back of your head to pull you in closer if that was even possible.

“Because you’re not undesirable. I will always want to hug you. And care for you. And lo—“

He cut himself off. You were too exhausted from crying to figure out what he was going to say anyway.

“Just because,” You sighed. “It’s been so long since I started dating again. What if I mess up?”

“You won’t,” He immediately replied. “You’ll do amazing. Just be yourself.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Easier said than done.” You could feel Jacob wince beside you because he already knew what you were talking about–how even if you acted like yourself, you were never accepted or loved enough.

“Sorry.”

You shook your head. “Don’t be.” You looked down to play with your fingers nervously. Multiple scenarios began to play through your head like a jumbled-up movie. What if you laughed at something he said when it wasn’t meant to be a joke? What if you blurted out your deepest darkest secret and caused him to look at you weirdly? What if–

“What if he kisses me?”

Jacob froze, turning to you in disbelief. “That’s what you’re worried about?”

“Well, one of the things I’m worried about,” You mumbled, shrugging.

He searched your eyes as if to make sure you weren’t joking. Which, you definitely weren’t, as your jaw clenched unsurely. 

This time, his tone was softer and more gentle. “Are you not confident?”

You sighed, slightly embarrassed. “No– I don’t know, maybe? I just don’t want to… disappoint.”

You can see a small smirk appear on Jacob’s lips. “I’m sure you won’t.”

“How would you know?” Your eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“I just assumed,” He whispered. And you could have sworn his eyes darted down to your lips for a split second. Then, he took in a deep breath and scooted just a bit closer, facing you so that your knees touched. He raised an eyebrow. “You’ve kissed before, haven’t you?”

“Yeah.” You furrowed your eyebrows. “Not enough to be good if that’s what you’re wondering.”

He seemed to be deep in thought before something shifted in his gaze and his lips parted to ask you something. It wasn’t teasing anymore, nor was it questioning. It was a serious look in his eyes, almost heart-stopping, as he stared at you as if to contemplate if what he was about to ask would change anything. And it definitely did, as it was already sending you choking on air.

“Want to practice?”

“With who?” You stared at him, acting innocent as if you didn’t already know what he meant.

“With me.”

“Oh,” You breathed. You didn’t know why but in the deepest part of yourself, reserved only for the most important secrets, you knew that your heart thumped erratically when he spoke those two words. “I mean– okay. I-I guess.” 

He was just doing it as a friend.

He smiled softly and you watched as his hand very slowly came up to cup your cheek. He leaned in but stopped just before your lips connected. You peeked an eye open–yes, you already shut your eyes–and stared at him in perplexion.

A corner of his lips lifted. He must have already noticed your eagerness.

“Promise me, you’ll tell me if you don’t want to do this.” He looked you in the eyes, searching you with almost what you could tell was affection. 

You nodded quietly.

He seemed confident but you could tell he was feeling nervous too with the way he swallowed thickly and his eyes darted across your features unsurely.

“Can I kiss you?” was his final question.

“Yes,” You whispered.

And then he leaned forward, attaching his lips to yours. You felt your heart stop before it came back to life again, this time, much faster than before. Your eyes carefully fluttered shut as you allowed yourself to melt into his touch. His hand stayed on your cheek, gently caressing your skin with his thumb as he slowly kissed you, almost as if he was savoring the moment.

You would be lying if you said that you didn’t also want to savor the moment.

You let out a small involuntary sound once it registered in your brain that he was deepening the kiss further. He tilted his head and soon enough, his hand was leaving your cheek, trailing down your side, and grasping onto your waist. You gasped and furrowed your eyebrows in concentration.

You were lost. Completely lost from the fact that this was supposed to be a practice kiss for your future date. That kind man from your literature class was long gone from your mind. Instead, every coherent thought of yours was replaced with one single person. Your best friend. The person you were kissing right now. 

Jacob, Jacob, Jacob.

“Jacob,” You rasped in between kisses. 

Even though your hands rested on his chest, creating some sort of distance, you didn’t make any further move to end the kiss. You felt butterflies erupt every time his hand ever so caressed your side.

“Hm?” He kissed you like he meant it. He kissed you like he actually loved you and that was what sent you reeling.

Shivers traveled down your spine once his hand wandered from your waist down to your lower back. The warmth of his palm and fingers splayed across your skin as it slowly lifted up the fabric of your outfit, leaving cool air to make its way through. 

That small breeze was what sent you out of your trance and what led you to finally pull away. 

“I think- I think that’s enough,” You panted, your heart rate refusing to go down.

Your lips felt sore and almost bitten and when you looked up to meet Jacob’s eyes, he was staring, stunned yet with a slight smug expression.

“Yeah,” He whispered. It took him a while for him to let go of the small of your back. “Sorry.” 

You huffed out a laugh, patting at your cheeks to let them cool down. “Sorry for what?”

He smiled shyly. “I got carried away.”

You snorted. You were glad that there wasn’t any lingering awkwardness after that… kiss no matter how oddly real and passionate it felt. “Am I at least a good kisser? Am I set for the date?”

It looked like he was just shocked by lightning. “Your date. Yes, your date.”

You stared at him with confusion. “My… date. That’s what we were practicing for.”

He gulped and nodded quietly. “Yeah, yeah.” And then he leaned in again. But this time, he positioned him right by your ear, his breath that you just recently felt shuddering against your lips, now lingering on your earlobe. You hated yourself for closing your eyes and bracing for a kiss. What were you thinking? You swallowed nervously.

“You’re a great kisser, just as I thought.”

You resisted the urge to choke on air. “Th-thank you,” You blurted stupidly before abruptly standing up to grab your bag and aiming to run out the door.

But he stopped you, gently taking your hand and pulling you back.

“What?” You squeaked, your hands growing sweaty and your heart speeding up for the nth time.

“It’s a bit…” You felt his fingers brush against your skin once again, creating flashbacks back to the kiss. You heard the sound of the zipper on the back of your outfit being zipped up. Since when was it undone? You were pretty sure you pulled it all the way.

“My fault,” He teased. So it was him who unzipped it.

“Perv.” You tried to elbow him. But of course, he caught your arm and turned you around. 

“Have fun on your date,” He smiled gently.

You breathed out shakily. “Okay.”

—

You were not having fun. Well, your date was all but a gentleman. He pulled the chair out for you, shielded you from incoming cars, and everything. But you couldn’t help but let your mind wander, distracted by the fact that Jacob already did all this anyway.

You were also distracted by the kiss. You could still feel the sensation of his lips moving fervently against yours and the warmth of his hand moving up your back and unzipping your outfit unnoticeably. You still wondered why he did that in the first place.

The two of you stopped on the trail that beautifully looked out to the sea. It was the perfect scene—the kind man in front of you, waiting for something. More specifically, a kiss. You could just lean in and kiss him right now but you… couldn’t.

“May I?” The man's voice interrupted your rushing thoughts.

“What?” You dumbly replied.

“You know.” He grinned shyly and stepped forward.

“Oh, I—“ You cleared your throat. Why wasn’t your heart beating fast like it did with your best friend of all people? Why didn’t your cheeks feel warm like how they did when Jacob looked at you with such a soft gaze? Maybe you were just going crazy, you figured. Maybe after this kiss, everything would go back to how it was. “Okay.”

But just as the man was leaning in, you suddenly planted your hands on his chest, pushing him away. When the man stared at you in alarm, you stuttered, “S-sorry. I actually don’t think we can.”

His expression saddened. “Why not?”

You didn’t know either. You could only offer a pathetic shrug.

“I just don’t think we’ll work out.”

His jaw clenched but he eventually stepped back. “Alright then, I guess. Want a ride home?” 

You gave him a weak smile and shook your head. “It’s fine. I’m sorry.”

He never accepted your apology.

—

When you called Jacob to pick you up, he looked you over in worry.

“Did something happen? Did he break it off with you? What—“ He didn’t even start driving, rather he parked and turned his attention to you.

You laughed and shook your head. “We didn’t kiss. And it was me who ended it.”

He frowned. “It was only your first date.”

“I know but I decided not to look for anyone right now. I’d rather just stick with you.” You smiled sweetly. Jacob replied with an incoherent sound as he abruptly turned away to stare out the window.

“That’s fine with me,” He muttered, his ears red even under dark evening light.

You huffed out a quiet laugh and sat back in the car seat. Jacob started driving, the low hum of the engine lulling you to sleep. Slowly, you shut your eyes and let out a content sigh. “I’m tired.”

“From what?” He mused.

You grinned to yourself. “From kissing you. You’re quite the rough kisser.” You paused. “Not that I didn’t enjoy it of course.”

And thank god for your seatbelt because, for some odd reason, Jacob suddenly slammed on the brakes.

But even after that throwaway comment, the two of you never spoke about the kiss again. Except, speaking and thinking are two different things. For the next coming days, you thought about the kiss again, and again, and again, even if it didn’t turn into something more.

iii.

“So you really didn’t kiss?” Jacob questioned a few days later. The two of you walked down the main street of your campus, window shopping and sipping on warm lattes. It was the perfect day, slightly chilly with clear skies. You loved moments like these–the ones where all you could do was chatter about random things that came up in your mind and Jacob would always listen intently. 

“No, we really didn’t.” You rolled your eyes. If you peered just a bit closer, you could see a wave of relief wash over his face.

As the two of you walked together and as more time passed by, you began to realize that what you and Jacob had wasn’t the most normal friendship. You had other friends too and you certainly did not act like how you did with Jacob. You glanced down to where you two were literally holding hands, intertwined fingers and all.

“So you don’t get lost,” Jacob whispered when the two of you graduated together. “I can’t lose you.”

Your mind wandered back to when Jacob fixed your hair oh so gently after it had gotten just the slightest bit messy from the wind.

“Why do you always fix my hair for me?” You narrowed your eyes.

“I like it when you look up at me when I do,” Jacob teased, pinching your cheek. “Your puppy eyes.”

You always thought he was just joking, but the more you thought about it, the more it felt like he meant it. He always seemed to love yet hate eye contact. Sometimes, he would stare back with a soft, admiration-filled gaze. Other times, he would tear his gaze away because he was flustered.

There was also the jealousy. You weren’t a blind fool to never notice it. He was always supportive of your dates and he always comforted you whenever they didn’t work out. But for some reason, what really ticked him off was physical touch by any guy that’s not him.

“What were you doing with him?” Jacob had asked you when he walked in on you hugging one of your classmates.

You widened your eyes. “Well he– he lended me some notes that I missed, that’s all.”

“And that earned him a hug?” Jacob’s eyes, ironically turned into those irresistible puppy eyes.

You stared at him in awe. “Are you…?”

Jacob gulped. “No.”

And that was the first time Jacob asked you to fall asleep on him instead of the other way around. You would never complain though. His chest was very comfortable.

Then there was the kiss. 

It was one. You never kissed him again after. And at the moment, it seemed like a perfectly normal thing to do. In your mind, you thought he was just offering you an opportunity to practice. 

But every time you thought of it at night and in your dreams, you began to realize that it was anything but practice. There was no need for him to caress your side, cup your cheek so gently, tilt his head for a better angle, and for him to deepen the kiss.

Your friendship wasn’t a typical one. It was something more. Yet, you didn’t know what to do with it.

You turned to look at him, wondering if studying his features would give you a clearer answer. But much to your surprise, Jacob was already staring back. There was a small smile on his lips, his eyes sparkling as he looked—as he looked at you.

“Why?” You blurted out.

“Why what?” 

“Why do you always stare at me?”

He paused in his tracks. It took you a moment to realize that it was really only the two of you on the sidewalk. The sun had already set and so everyone had gone home. He turned to you, pulling you closer, causing you to stumble slightly. He then brought your connected hands up to his chest. You inhaled quietly once it registered in your head that you could feel his erratic heartbeat. You looked up at him, searching for any sort of answer. Yet he still remained like a book in a completely different language that you didn’t understand.

“Because you never fail to take my breath away.”

Your heart felt like it was caught in your throat. And as dumb as it may seem, you looked down at yourself, wondering if you had dressed up in a particular way for him to say that. But then you felt a gentle hand on your cheek, turning your attention back up. He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.

“Always,” He replied quietly as if he read your mind. “You always, always take my breath away. Even on the day you fell asleep on me in high school. Even when you say that you look bad, I think you’re beautiful.”

“Jacob… I—“ You stopped once you felt a stinging cold on the very tip of your nose. It was a snowflake, you soon realized. You used to love it when it snowed, up until you found out that you had a horrible tolerance for cold. But who was it who took care of you when sick? It was always Jacob. It was always him who wrapped you up in blankets and cuddled you, even when you warned him that he would also get sick.

His eyes filled with worry as he glanced up at the sky. “Let’s run before it gets too slippery.” He smiled mischievously, grasping your hand once more and leading you toward your dorm. You laughed loudly, trying to catch up with him. 

“Too fast!” You complained.

He turned back to look at you and oh, how handsome he looked even while running. That pretty smile with his bright, even prettier eyes. “I don’t want you to get sick,” He replied, accompanied by a cute laugh. “Do you want me to carry you?”

You flushed and shook your head immediately. “Let’s just keep running,” You huffed, allowing Jacob to lead the way. 

The whole run back was filled with giggles and giddy smiles. You couldn’t have it any other way. The two of you, panting, finally managed to burst into your dorm. There was this exhilarating feeling in your chest. No matter if you stopped running or not, you would feel so… out of breath. It could be because of Jacob, it could be the beautiful snow, or it could just be the constant pounding of your heart. It could be all three.

You finally let go of Jacob’s hand, completely missing how he instinctively chased after your touch. Then, you stepped away to brush off the snowflakes that’s built up on your coat. Once you were sure that you were free from looking like a sugar-powdered donut, you looked up to where Jacob had already closed the door and was leaning against it.

His hair was messy, but what caught your eye the most, were the flurries of snow trapped between his locks. Somehow, he made looking like a sugar-powdered donut a good thing. He grinned at you with slightly rosy cheeks and gentle, gentle eyes.

He looked attractive. Since when did he look so attractive? You weren’t completely unaware that he was a fairly good-looking guy, but with the way his coat slipped off one shoulder and how his smile shot straight for your heart, you began to realize he was a lot more than just good-looking.

You were frozen, your arms straight at your sides, completely distracted by your best friend’s smile and the annoying thump of a heart–specifically, yours. 

And one would think that he was looking at you, weirded out by your staring. But instead, he was gazing at you just the same. And this time, you had an explanation for all those lingering, soft looks he would give you for the many years that you’ve been friends. His words rang in your ears.

Always. You always, always take my breath away.

His smile slowly fell and before you could even register the way his gaze fell away from your eyes and downwards, he was walking towards you and cupping your face. Not even a second later, you felt a pair of lips being pressed against yours. 

And just like before, your eyelids were already fluttering shut. This time though, you stayed without movement, simply allowing him to kiss you ever so gently and lovingly.

When he pulled away, that was when it finally hit you. You didn’t have a date to practice for, nor was this some sort of dare. Jacob, your best friend of multiple years, just kissed you on his own accord.

You brought the back of your hand up to your lips, staring at him in startlement. “Why’d you do that?” Your voice came out weak.

“What?” He blinked, and you could see how his cheeks began to flush. “Oh, I just– you know, in case you were thinking of going on another date with another literature class guy. It would be good practice since I know that you’re nervous so I just– I kissed you.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Is that really it?”

He gulped, his eyes searching yours before he sighed. “I’m sorry. You just looked really pretty.”

“You kissed me because I looke–”

“Yes,” He blurted out, wincing. “And I’m sorry. That was stupid of me and I should have asked before and now you think that I’m–”

“Jacob.” You stepped forward, placing your hands on his shoulders. “Jacob.”

His eyes softened. “Yeah?”

“Be completely honest,” You looked him straight in the eyes. However, it began to feel a bit hard not to let your gaze fall to his lips because my god, was he a good kisser.

“I just was,” He muttered shyly.

You huffed. “Not that. I know you already answered that question. You kissed me because I looked pretty, which thank you, by the way.” You batted your eyes teasingly. Jacob let out an incoherent sound and tried to look away. But instead, you cupped his cheek and turned his attention back. “I have another one.”

He frowned, which would be a sorrowful sight if it wasn’t for the fact that he was blushing like crazy right now. You held back a smile.

“Do you like me?”

Jacob’s eyes widened. “What?” He squawked.

The puzzle pieces were already coming together for a while now. The longing gazes, acts of kindness, his occasional kisses (definitely not normal)–you knew there was a root to all those. But you still had that small feeling of insecurity. Well, up until now. That kiss just confirmed everything.

“Do you like me?” You repeated. “Last time, when you said that you would date me, you weren’t lying. You meant it, didn’t you?”

“I…” He trailed off. The room was dead silent. All you could do now was see, smell, and feel. You could see Jacob’s eyelashes as they fluttered when he blinked profusely, trying to come up with some sort of excuse. You could smell his cologne, which always smelled good especially when you buried your face into his chest. And you could feel his hand hovering just over your wrist.

He let out a low sigh and he looked you in the eye, his gaze nervous yet filled with something new–hope.

“I did,” He finally whispered. “I meant it. I would love to date you. And I like you. So much and for a very long time now.”

And even with all that evidence that you’ve thought about late at night, you still couldn’t help but be taken aback. You swallowed thickly and took a step back. “Oh.” It all felt real now. Deep down, you were hoping that he denied it. You wouldn’t have to actually think about your feelings for him like you had to do now. You weren’t prepared for this.

“I– I was just curious,” You stuttered. But that hand that was hovering over your waist suddenly grasped it and pulled you close. You yelped quietly before finding yourself right up against your best friend’s chest.

“And you don’t have an answer?” He asked, his voice teasing yet trembled slightly. 

“Why do you need an answer?” Your heart thumped.

He hummed, his eyes glinting with mischievousness. “I want to know. You’re the one who brought this up anyway.” 

“Yeah, well–” You inhaled sharply when you felt a hand on the side of your face, cautiously tucking a piece of hair back. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.” He looked you over in a way that made you feel warm and fuzzy inside. And for some reason, it wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling. You’ve felt this before, multiple times, which was what baffled you even more.

You didn’t know when it started happening and you didn’t want to dwell on it either, but everytime he ever so smiled or placed his hands on you, you felt that weird thing in your stomach. All the recent times that you’ve cuddled and fell asleep with him began to do just the same. Sometimes, you couldn’t even fall asleep because your heart was beating too fast. The only way you could fall asleep was by pressing your ear to his chest and counting his heartbeats.

Jacob quickly noticed your silence and hesitance. His voice quieted down to that caring version that he always used when you were on the verge of falling asleep—whether that be on his shoulder or chest.

“Y/n,” He gently spoke, grabbing your attention.

“What?” You winced.

“I’m sorry if I pressured you or anything. You don’t have to answer right n—“

“I like you too.”

His breath hitched. You couldn’t see his expression though, as you had shut your eyes with a grimace.

“Oh,” He breathed. You heard him step closer. “You do? You… like me too?”

“Yes,” You whispered in a small voice.

And yet again, your stomach did that funny thing because when you opened your eyes, Jacob’s face was a lot closer than before. He had a shy yet cautious smile on his face as he watched you silently.

“So…” He tilted his head expectantly. “We both share feelings. It’s up to you what you want to do now.”

This wasn’t even the bad part, you realized. It was the next words that left your lips that was.

“Nothing, let’s just move on.”

Immediately, it was like something had stabbed him in the heart and oh, did it feel the same for you. You bit your lip, willing your tears to go away. All you wanted to do was reach for his hand and pull him in and let everything else fold out naturally. But no, you stayed back against the wall, refusing to look him in the eye.

“What?” He muttered, a clear look of confusion in his eyes. 

Your voice wavered as you forced sounds out of your clenched-up throat. “I said, that we should just move on.”

He let out a breath in disbelief. “Why? Is there something wrong? Did I do something wrong? If so, I’ll fix it. Is it because I didn’t let you borrow my hoodie that one time? I’ll let you borrow it whenever you want from now on.”

“It’s not,” You cried, your heart aching at the fact that he still tries to take the blame. “I want to be more with you, Jacob. I just can’t. It’s my fault, not yours.”

He fell quiet, watching you with care. “What’s stopping you?”

“Me,” You shamefully replied. “I’m afraid.”

“Afraid?” He inquired quietly. “Of what?”

“Of taking you for granted. I don’t want to possibly lose you and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“You don’t have to worry about me.” He frowned. 

“But I should.” You furrowed your eyebrows. “Because what if I push you away, then what?”

He looked like he was going to say something else but he ultimately swallowed his words and let out a low sigh. “Okay,” He whispered. “I understand.”

You felt the need to apologize over and over again. You hated the look on his face as he tried to hide the pain he was feeling. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” You began to say over and over again. “It’s not because of you. It’s—“

“I know.” He gave you a soft look. He always remembered and could always tell when you were sensitive about a past relationship, no matter if it was just a fling or not.

He slowly stepped forward again and he carefully rested his palm on the back of your hand. When you didn’t flinch or pull away, he gently wrapped his fingers around your hand, holding it firmly.

“So why did you tell me?” He finally asked. “If you didn’t want this to go further.”

You tightened your hands into fists—a nervous habit you had. But, he was quick to soothe them back open as he quietly whispered a small, “You’ll hurt yourself.”

“I don’t— I don’t know.” You paused. “In a perfect world, you’re aware of my feelings and we go further. But that’s in a perfect world. I just thought… if I told you it might magically happen but it didn’t and that’s stupid, I know.”

Jacob never took his eyes off you and he never pulled his hand away. That’s what you liked so much about him. He never failed to be your anchor, the one to ground you when you felt like floating away.

What confused you though, was that he wasn’t saying anything. He seemed to be deep in thought as if he were changing his mind about something. But, he wasn’t changing his mind about his feelings for you. You could tell by the way his eyebrows furrowed slightly when you tried to hide away from his soft gaze and by the way he never let you clench your fists, holding both of your hands tightly but never enough to hurt.

You were lost in his eyes—those who have seen you at your best and lowest. He’d seen you smile and come running into his arms and he’d seen you cry and break down until you fell asleep in his embrace.

“Then I’ll wait for you.”

You inhaled sharply and widened your eyes. “What?”

“I’ll wait for you,” He repeated, a small yet reassuring smile on his lips. “That perfect world you talked about–it’s a possibility, right? So I’ll wait. I’ll wait for your perfect world to come.”

“Jacob.” You stared at him unsurely. He didn’t even know when that would happen. You didn’t even know either. So why was he so sure of waiting for you?

He leaned in and you felt a hand leave yours. And almost like he read your mind, you felt the warmth of his palm on the side of your cheek, caressing it soothingly.

“No matter how long it takes.”

Your brain was rushing with a million red warning signs. Multiple questions threatened to spill out of your mouth yet the only one that could leave was a choked, “why?”

“Because all I want is for you to be happy. Why should we rush when it means you won’t be happy? That’s all that matters to me.”

“But you—“ You let out a frustrated sigh. “You might lose interest. Or what if we do get together and something happens and—“

He grinned. “You’re thinking too far ahead. Didn’t I tell you I would wait?”

You grumbled, yet the weight in your heart lightened at the change in the surrounding mood.

“Whenever you’re ready, we can talk about this again,” He said. “In the meantime, we can go back to what we were before.”

You rolled your eyes and bit back a shy smile. “Okay.”

“And…” His eyes sparkled as he leaned forward. Immediately, as if on instinct, you shut your eyes and expected a kiss on the lips. Instead, though you felt him press one on the very top of your forehead, almost as if that was his final move of showing how much he respected you. “If you ever decide to go further, I promise that I will be good for you. I’ll be so, so good for you.”

That was when your legs began to feel like jelly. You could feel yourself melt and your brain go fuzzy. 

But just as you expected, Jacob was always there to catch you.

+ 1

It was one thing to be best friends with Jacob and another thing to be best friends with a guy who recently confessed his feelings for you. No matter how hard you tried to bring things back to normal, it was of no use.

Every smile, which would be a normal thing whenever you crack a joke, now was a smile that caught you off guard and made you stumble over your words. Whenever he touched you somehow, whether if it was simply to guide you down a sidewalk or to pull you into a hug, you felt a spark that never quite left you until you fell asleep.

But still, despite the many times your heart had beaten towards Jacob, you could never find the courage to take things further. Even so, he always made it clear that he would wait.

“You can stop waiting,” You once blurted out when you noticed him hesitating to grasp your hand. 

He looked at you in slight alarm before softening his expression. This time, without hesitation, he took hold of your hand, pulling it into his lap so that he could play with your fingers, bending them and squeezing them.

“Tell me the reason first. Then I’ll decide.” He eyed you knowingly.

You blushed and looked away. However, you never made a move to pull your hand away.

“Just… I feel bad,” You muttered. “It must be awkward or difficult. So you can just leave if this is bothering you.”

“Ah,” He breathed. He didn’t say anything after that, instead turning his attention back to your hand.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion and turned to him. “So you’re going to stop waiting?” 

He smirked slightly before shaking his head. “No.”

You gaped at him, pulling your hand away in shock. “What?” You stammered. “But I just said–”

Your words were cut off by Jacob taking your hand and instead of bringing it back into his lap, he brought it up to your lips and left a soft kiss on the back of it. You immediately choked on your spit as you blinked, flustered.

“So your reason is that you’re worried that I might get impatient, correct?” He looked up to you, smiling.

You nodded your head, too lost for words.

“Then that’s not a valid reason,” He whispered. He set your hand back down, but still held it in his lap. “If you feel uncomfortable, then I will stop waiting. But me? You don’t have to worry about me.” He leaned in, staring at you completely endeared. You tried to glance away. “Like I said, I’ll always wait. No matter how long it takes.”

You breathed out shakily before nodding.

It always ended like that. It didn’t matter how hard you tried to convince him to give up, he would always come back to you like a lost puppy.

Jacob also started to take care of you more. At first, you thought it was some way to win you over like your exes liked to do right after an argument. But, over time, you began to realize that his actions were genuine, though silent and hard to notice.

“I’m hungry,” You mumbled to yourself one day. Jacob was walking behind you, seeming busy on his phone. Turns out, he wasn’t, because a few hours later, you found a bag of food placed at the entrance of your door. 

Or, the other time when you just finished up your upcoming assignments and could barely walk straight with how exhausted you were. All you could remember was a pair of worried eyes that belonged to Jacob who was guiding you to bed. When you woke up, you were wrapped comfortably in blankets and most of all, his sweater that seemed to magically appear on you.

And then there was that one time. The most important of all.

“Which one is better?” You asked, holding up two scarves for your classmate to see. She peered at it curiously before pointing at the one in your left hand.

“Who’s it for?” She wiggled her eyebrows.

You scoffed, putting the other one back on the shelf. “Jacob.”

“Are you really sure that you two aren’t a thing?” 

You hesitated before shrugging weakly. “It’s complicated.” You tossed the scarf into the cart before turning away, yawning. On nights when Jacob was too busy to visit your dorm, you never were able to sleep well. “I’m going to order a cup of coffee, I’ll be right back.”

You stretched your limbs and walked over to the nearby coffee shop. Buying gifts was a hard task, especially when it came to Jacob. He always made these intricately crafted gift baskets for you, filled with everything you could possibly want. 

“Y/n?” A gruff voice called out to you.

You froze in place. You recognized that voice and oh, how you despised it. Still, you plastered on a smile and turned in the voice’s direction.

“Hey, it’s… you.” You looked the man over. He was the ex who stated so bluntly that you were undesirable. He certainly looked worse for wear—dark circles under his eyes, clothes with unknown stains on them, and an unkind sneer.

“How’ve you been?” He took a step forward. You were quick to backtrack, your fists clenched.

“Fine,” You forced out. “You?”

“Could be better.” He shrugged. Something suddenly shifted in his gaze though, as he looked at you differently. It was in a way that made you feel sick to your stomach, as opposed to the butterflies that would appear when you two were still together. “Listen,” He started. “I’m going to get straight to the point.”

You stared at him, perplexed.

“Get together with me again.”

You jerked away, your hands coming up defensively. “What?”

“You heard me. I’m sorry that you got offended by my words before…”

You scoffed. And he still won’t apologize.

“…but after we split, I realized how much I missed you. C’mon sweetheart, you know you feel the same, hm?”

You felt like you were about to throw up as you glared at him in disbelief. “Do you hear yourself right now?”

The man feigned innocence. 

“Okay, I guess not. And I don’t have the energy to explain it to someone like you,” You spat. “So no. My answer is no. Besides, I have a boyfriend.”

That last sentence you sort of didn’t think through… but everything else you’ve practically perfected after rehearsing it with Jacob many times before. 

“If you ever see him again, promise you’ll tell me,” Jacob muttered, his fingers trailing circles on your arm. It was late at night and you could barely keep your eyes open. But, it was always at this time that Jacob became sentimental and protective.

“Okay,” You whispered, your voice muffled in his chest. “Don’t worry, I’m over him.”

“That’s good.” You could hear him breathe out in relief. “And if he ever wants something from you, say no. You deserve so much more than he can ever give you.”

You smiled and snuggled closer to your best friend’s warmth. “Okay, okay. In love with me or something?” 

“...go to sleep,” He mumbled, pulling the blankets closer over your figure. Completely forgetting the fact that he never answered your question, you peeked over his shoulder and realized that he was barely covered. 

You frowned. “You’ll get cold.”

And instead of readjusting the blankets, he tightened his arms around you, burying his face into your neck. “I won’t.”

“Boyfriend?” Your ex’s jaw clenched scarily. “What do you mean boyfriend? Who?”

You gulped but still lifted your head high. “Jacob,” You lied straight through your teeth. 

The man’s sneer only grew further as his eyes narrowed. “Of course,” He hissed. “Of course it’s always him.”

You nodded slowly, slightly confused of his response. “Yeah, so…” You couldn’t help but stifle a laugh at the sight of the man, red-faced and with almost smoke coming out of his ears.

“Just leave,” The man grunted. “I’m fine.”

“I never asked if you were fine.” You suppressed a laugh which quickly fell short when he snapped his head towards you in a warning. “Okay, okay,” You snorted. “Have a great day!” You waved and ran away before the man could explode once more.

As you walked back in the direction of your classmate, you couldn’t help but smile stupidly to yourself. To be truthfully honest, you were always terrified for this day to come. That you would run into one of your failed dates and absolutely freeze up, making a complete fool out of yourself. That was what you thought for the longest time.

But now, you realized that the interaction you just had was a lot easier than you thought. Sure, it left your heart seizing nervously, but after having someone–Jacob–stay by your side everytime even a single tear left your eye, you realized that you were healed.

–

You swung the bag in your hand, smiling brightly. You’ve never felt so happy before. Your eyes wandered across all the stores, casually window shopping until you suddenly came to a stop. 

You squinted your eyes and stepped closer. There, on the display of one of the most famously expensive jewelry stores, was the necklace worn on your very neck–the exact same one that Jacob had gifted you. You peered in and spotted the price tag. That was when you stumbled back, slapping your hand over your mouth.

You stared in astonishment at the necklace. “He said that it wasn’t expensive…”

But of course, it was always Jacob who said not to worry about him. You sighed all too knowingly though you couldn’t help but bite back the smile that was forming on your lips. 

Just as you were busy admiring the bracelet just like you’ve done many times before, you heard your phone ring. 

“Jacob?” 

“Y/n,” He sounded breathless. Almost like he was… running. “Where are you?”

You blinked in confusion. “Where are you?”

“The park. Are you–” 

You accidentally hung up. You winced and whispered a quiet sorry before heading to the local park.

–

It’s a common occurrence for Jacob to find you wandering around the park, clearing your mind after hours of studying. It was not a common occurrence for you to find Jacob standing in a secluded garden area, looking around frantically for something–someone.

You bounded over to him, ready to greet him cheerily. But, as soon as his eyes landed on you, he was immediately reaching forward and pulling you into his arms. 

“Oh,” You breathed stiffly. His hold was tight and protective, yet you had no idea why.

He pulled away and looked you over worriedly. His eyes were soft and his hands held gently onto your shoulders. “Are you okay?” He asked. Then, his hands came up to your cheeks as if to check for invisible tears. “Did he hurt you?”

You stared at the man in alarm, your lips parted in confusion. “Who?”

“Your ex.” 

Your mouth fell further open. “How’d you know I met him today?”

Jacob sighed and pulled out his phone. “I got a text.” You couldn’t help but melt at his small, worried pout. “He said that he had just talked to you and sent you home crying.”

You blinked. And then you snorted, much to Jacob’s surprise.

“That weirdo said that?” You laughed. “He did not. I was the one who sent him home. He’s bluffing!”

And even though the man in front of you looked slightly embarrassed, you could tell that he was relieved. He stepped forward and pulled you back into a hug, his hand stroking the back of his head. “Thank god. I thought you were hurt.”

You shook your head, smiling as you listened to his beating heartbeat. “Don’t worry, I’m okay.”

It was you who pulled away first but it quickly became a regret. You so badly wanted to melt back into his arms. You’ve never been treated with so much care before–the way he held your face so gently to make sure you weren’t crying and how he held you close. God, how he made you swoon.

You cleared your throat, completely forgetting that you were staring in awe into your best friend’s eyes. Jacob smiled shyly.

“So!” You blurted, playing nervously with the sleeves of your coat. “What brings you to the park? You never come here.”

Jacob seemed to choke on something. Hm, you didn’t remember seeing him eating anything. He glanced around and you quickly noticed how red his ears had gotten.

“Oh, I–I was on a run and this was part of the… route.”

“Really?” You wondered, looking around. This area of the park was more closed off though, surrounded by more plants than people. “Interesting.”

“Yeah,” He laughed nervously.

It grew awkwardly silent then. The two of you were simply facing each other without anything to say or do. But that silence gave you more time to observe and notice the small details like how Jacob’s hair was tousled in multiple directions, meaning he wasn’t running in one straight path, but rather on multiple. His shoes were untied, which didn���t make any sense with his run, but instead showed that he was in a hurry. And then there was the phone call. The first thing he asked was where you were and as soon as you met up with him, it was like he was looking for…

“You were looking for me,” You breathed in realization. “You ran here because you were looking for me.”

Jacob’s cheeks immediately reddened as he stared at you like a deer caught in headlights. He winced as he tried to avoid eye contact. You leaned forward, making him breathe in sharply.

“I…” He sighed in defeat. It seemed like your best direction was simple eye contact. “Fine, I was looking for you. I was worried about you.”

Your eyes softened as you reached a hand up to fix his messy hair. “Why? You know that I can take care of myself.”

He frowned and you couldn’t help but think how adorable he looked when he was protective. “Still. I hate to see you hurt.”

You smiled, endeared. “Oh, Jacob…”

“Ever since you told me that you were afraid that one day, I wanted to take care of you more. And I’m sorry,” He whispered, slightly leaning into the touch of your hand. “I’m sorry if I intruded too much or made you uncomfortable. I promise that I’ll step back if you want. Or if you–”

He let out a muffled sound though, as you grabbed his collar and pulled him in to plant a kiss onto one of his cheeks. When you peeked an eye open, you smiled when you realized that his eyes were wide open in shock. Stifling a laugh, you pulled back and softly poked the spot that you just kissed.

“Wha… you…” He stared at you, completely dazed. Then, he giggled, completely flustered, as his hand came up to touch where you had just kissed.

You finally let that laugh escape, hiding your face in his chest. Then, you looked up at him, smiling widely. 

“You really do know how to make me fall, don’t you?”

He smiled goofily, almost like he was drunk after that one kiss. “You’re still standing though.”

You huffed fondly and slapped him bashfully. “You know what I mean.”

“Wait, but–” He widened his eyes. You felt his hands sneak around your waist, holding you securely and protectively. “Are you sure about this? I told you I’d wait. You don’t have to…” He bit his lip shyly. You could tell that the feeling of your lips on his cheek came rushing back. He shook out of his trance though he was still blushing. “You don’t have to kiss me if you’re not ready.”

You smiled softly and shook your head. You knew it was the necklace that did it for you. It served as further proof of how much Jacob cared for you–that he always thought about you even when you were apart and lied about the price so that you wouldn’t worry. Jacob was always like this. He always had you in his mind and would do anything if it meant that you would smile. Sometimes, he would even tell you that he liked your smile.

 “But I am ready. I want to go further with you.”

That was what made him jump in surprise. “You– you want to be more? Like me as your boyfriend? And you as…” He paused, his smile giddy and so in love. “Mine?”

You nodded excitedly. “Yes, Jacob.”

“But you said…”

“I’m still afraid,” You replied, looking down at where there was barely any distance between you two. “But I would love to try with you.”

“Are you sure?” He furrowed his eyebrows slightly which you couldn’t take seriously with the way his eyes were filled with so much eagerness.

“Yes.” You copied his expression jokingly.

“One hundred percent sure?” 

You sighed fondly and instead of replying, you stepped forward and pressed yet another kiss on his cheek. That seemed to be a good enough answer because Jacob was staring down at you as if you were the brightest star in the sky.

Jacob then used his finger to tilt your chin up. His smile was what left you feeling breathless. “Then I promise you, Y/n, that I’ll be good for you. If I do anything wrong, tell me. I will be my best for you. All the time. I like you so much”

You felt your composure melt as you couldn’t even control your grin anymore. 

“Okay,” You giggled. “I like you too. And this time, I want to do more. Only with you. You are my perfect world.”

Then, your expression quickly changed into a teasing one as you leaned in and fluttered your eyes shut. You expected Jacob to become flustered but instead, he smirked and tightened his hold on your waist. You were glad that the park was empty right now as you peeked an eye open, slightly flustered.

“What are you doing?” He teased.

You smiled shyly. “I’m asking for a kiss. And not as practice this time.”

“Of course, beautiful.” He drew circles on your hip before yanking you close and against his lips. It felt like fireworks going off in your stomach. And the fact that this was real was what made every sensation stronger than it was before.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and tilted your head slightly. Jacob smiled against your lips, holding you close without any intention to let go.

Jacob suddenly pulled away, leaving you to chase after his lips. When you stared at him with both confusion and want at the same time, he smiled knowingly before muttering, “You taste sweeter each time.” 

Instantly, you were coughing with a rising blush on your cheeks. The fact that this wasn’t even your first kiss is something to think about. But still, his eyes watched your every move, completely smitten before he leaned back in.

He made it feel like your first kiss everytime.

A few months later

“Why didn’t you tell me that the necklace was actually expensive?” You mumbled, your question briefly cut off by a yawn. The two of you were cuddled up in bed, late at night. It’s not like you two didn’t cuddle before so there wasn’t much of a difference–the only one being that there were now kisses added.

He hummed, the vibration resonating through your chest. “Because I knew you would worry too much and make me return it.”

You huffed grumpily and turned away, your back facing him. He let out a small sound of confusion and peeked over your body to poke your cheek.

“Did I say something wrong?” You already knew he was pouting.

“Yes,” You whined before quickly turning back around. You punched him in the chest though he didn’t flinch one. “Why do you always tell me not to worry about you? This is a teamwork thing. I want to worry about you.”

Jacob stared at you, a completely smitten look on his face. His gaze was soft and you yelped as he suddenly wrapped his arms around you and pulled you back to his chest.

“Okay,” He replied.

You froze. “That’s it? No arguments?”

He laughed quietly. “No, because you’re right. We should be taking care of each other equally.” Then, he tilted his head back to look you in the eye. “Plus, I like when you worry about me. So do that more from now on.”

“Good.” You rolled your eyes. “I will. You think I don’t notice when you’re shivering from the cold?”

He frowned. “But you need the jacket or else you’ll get col–”

“Jacob,” You warned. 

“Fine, fine.” He scoffed, squeezing your arm playfully. “But you do know that you deserve the best? So in my defense, you deserve that jacket.”

You bit your lip and sighed, defeated. You were glad that the room was dimly lit so that he wouldn’t notice your blush. As you were getting lost in your thoughts, you felt a hand caress the side of your face, turning your attention back.

“Can I ask something?”

You tilted your head, willing yourself not to melt into his touch. You couldn’t handle that stupidly loving smile he would give you everytime you did.

“What is it?”

“How have I been as a boyfriend? I told you I would treat you well. If there’s anything, let me know. All I want is for you to be happy when you’re with me. Of course, if you want…” You could tell he was nervous with the way he began to ramble.

You smiled fondly and leaned in to kiss his jaw. “Jacob, Jacob,” You spoke, interrupting his fast-paced words.

“Yeah?” He looked at you like an eager puppy.

“Don’t worry,” You whispered. “You’re doing amazing. You’ve been the sweetest boyfriend ever.” 

“Oh?” His focused expression quickly turned into a teasing one. “That’s a relief. I love being good for you.”

“My god.” You tried to act nonchalant, but you couldn’t ignore the skip of your heart. You were about to add on, but your words were muffled by him leaning in and kissing you. His lips moved against yours as if you had all the time in the world which you did–you loved to savor the moment. 

You barely noticed that he had shifted his position so that you were caged under his arms. You could feel him giggle against your lips, his hand coming up to comb through your hair. You would never get over the fact that he had been a good kisser all this time. You wondered just how many kisses you’ve missed out on. 

But then again, his kisses were all for you from now on. You liked–no, loved–the thought of that.

It was still late at night and so, your kisses started to grow more slow and relaxed. Your arms around his neck slowly fell to your sides. 

“Hey, don’t fall asleep on me now.” Jacob smirked, pulling away as he stared down at you, your eyes fighting to stay open.

“Can’t help it,” You mumbled. “Come down already.” You grabbed his arm that was holding him up as he hovered you and pulled him back down to lie with you. Automatically, you were climbing into his embrace and it didn’t take long for you to fall asleep.

“Does my kissing make you sleepy?” He teased.

“Yes. I sleep when I’m in love,” You huffed, your thoughts jumbled and messy from both the kiss and your drowsiness.

“That doesn’t really make sense.” He still kissed the top of your forehead anyway.

“Shut up and go to sleep.”

“Okay, beautiful.”

[mustainegf]

Can you write 80!james × reader where they make a cake together? Genre at your discretion

This so SO adorable and I love 80s James, he’s such a cutie

As I stepped into the kitchen, the sweet scent of vanilla filled the air, instantly putting a smile on my face.

Today was special, not just because it was our anniversary, but because James and I were making a cake together.

Id finally convinced him to, as long as I promised not to tell the guys.

(I was definitely going to)

I glanced over at James, who was already bustling about, gathering ingredients and setting them out on the counter.

His enthusiasm was infectious, and I couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement as I joined him.

"This cake is gonna suck," he giggled, his eyes sparkling.

“it won’t be pretty, it will taste good though,” I added.

Our laughter filling the room as we sifted flour, cracked eggs, and measured out sugar.

Despite his initial reluctance, James was soon swept up in the fun of it all.

He may have grumbled about having to bake a cake at first, but as he got into the swing of things, his competitive spirit kicked in.

"You call that mixing?" he teased, winking at me as he whisked the batter with exaggerated enthusiasm.

I rolled my eyes, but couldn't help but laugh at his antics.

Before long, the cake was in the oven, filling the kitchen with its tantalizing aroma.

While we waited for it to bake, James pulled me into his arms, swaying gently to the music playing in the background.

"Jamie, your hair is full of flour," I chuckled, reaching over to brush it away gently.

Before I could protest, he dipped his finger into the bag of flour and flicked a small cloud of it in my direction. I gasped in mock horror, but couldn't help but laugh as I retaliated, dipping my own finger into the flour and smearing a tiny streak across his nose.

"Looks like we're both a little flour covered now," he teased, his smile widening as he leaned in to plant a playful kiss on my cheek.

I nestled closer to him, feeling a rush of warmth spread through me. Surrounded by flour dusted countertops and the promise of something sweet.

When the timer finally beeped, we eagerly pulled the cake out of the oven, marveling at its golden perfection.

Finally, the time came to decorate the cake, and we worked together, swirling frosting and adding a sprinkle of rainbow sprinkles.

James may have pretended to grumble about the mess, but I could see the twinkle in his eye as he carefully made a shitty rendition of scary guy on the cake.

When we were done, we stepped back to admire our handiwork.

“I was right, it does kinda suck,” he chuckled, before adding. “I love it though.”

With a mischievous grin, I cut a thin slice of the cake and held it out in James's direction.

Before he could protest, I playfully smushed it into his mouth, a dollop of frosting landing on his cheeks and upper lip.

He sputtered in surprise, his eyes widening before erupting into laughter. "Hey, watch it!" he exclaimed, his voice muffled by the cake and laughs.

I couldn't help but giggle at his reaction, reaching out to wipe away the frosting with my thumb.

"Oops, my bad," I teased, licking the frosting off my finger with a playful smile.

As he recovered from the surprise attack, James leaned in to steal a quick kiss, the taste of vanilla and sugar lingering on his lips.

[my-on-and-off-writingstuff]

Troublemaker PT. 4 | Daemon Targaryen x reader

Summary: When I said I would not write another part of troublemaker, oops. here it is. Daemon worrying about his pregnant wife. part 1, part 2, part 3 of the troublemaker serie.

111 AC

“Y/n Targaryen what in the gods name are you doing?” she looked over her shoulder to see your husband and you feel the horse stiffen underneath you. For a split second you have the fear that it will buck and run for the hills, but it calms down enough to shake its head and relax. You softly stroke her neck and praise her for not running away in fear. Anya is a beautiful black mare, who could be clumsy at times, but she trotted and jumped as the best. She did not like men around her much and at times she could have a bit of a temperament, but she was a gentle soul and very curious. As soon as the two of you had meet. She had instantly bonded with you and you with her. She had been a gift from Daemon for your first marriage anniversary. According to him, the horse’s temperament had reminded you of him when he saw Anya for the very first time. He had been away for business and when walking through the stables with a lord he had come across Anya.

“Anya needed exercise!” You yell back at your lovely husband who looks like he had just recovered from a panic attack. He has been way to worried about you for the last few months and today his concern was shining bright as ever. “Get your lovely ass of that horse before you break something, the maester said no horse riding anymore, you need to rest.” You laugh softly but do not make any moves of climbing down instead you direct Anya with your knees closer to Daemon. “He is an old man; exercise is healthy for the three of us.”

You almost feel sorry for your husband, but the maester was old and conservative, you knew your body the best and had seen your fair side of pregnancies in your life. You know that you were not too far along yet to ride a horse and exercise is just as healthy if not more than staying in bed all day. However, your poor husband was not that convinced the exercise part and had asked a maester for advice. Since you had told him you were pregnant, he had not let you of his eye, always fussing over you and making a scene out of it wherever you went. You knew deep down that he was scarred of losing you like he had lost his mother. He would save you in a heartbeat over the child if it came to it and you both knew it. As he had said he did not need child perse, but he could not live without you. Nonetheless you were pretty sure that as soon at the little one was born, he would all but forget about you.

He slowly comes closer, and you saw the worry on his face. “I just worry, for you and the babe.” You smile at him and reach out your hand for him to take while still sitting atop of Anya. “I know but I am not made of glass or sugar for that matter.” Daemon takes your hand and brings it to his mouth placing a gentle kiss on the back of your hand. “Even if you where you would be the strongest type of glass, but it’s a husband’s job to worry.” Before you can reject that statement his arms quickly lift you up from the saddle and he settles you down next to him, tucking you into his side. “However, you are trouble whenever you go, and I rather not find my wife with a broken neck.” You huff and lightly hit his chest. “I am a better rider then you are.” He smiles down at you, and you twist yourself out of his arms. “That you are but you also currently have a condition which has not made you less clumsy.”

Your face flushes with anger and quickly turn around to focus on Anya and ignore Daemons last statement. Anya is not faring much better as she is breathing harshly through her noose and stomping her leg on the grass. Apparently, Daemon has also reached his limit with her. She shakes her head at Daemon and before you can even intervene throws him on his ass right in a puddle of mud. You stifle your laugh as you know look down on your husband who looks at the both of you with a look of shock and acceptance. “I don’t think Anya, nor I approve of you calling me being pregnant a condition.” With those words you turn around leading Anya back to the stables leaving Daemon behind in the mud.

Daemon shakes his head still in disbelief as he watches his little troublemaker walk away with her little helper. He knew he should not have said those words and the universe had found a way to punish him for it. Groaning he lifted himself up to his own two feet and followed your form to the stables like a puppy.

111 AC

Everybody you came across today was not meeting your eyes and it was getting old real fast. Because you were concerned that something was wrong with your appearance you had looked in a mirror, but both your hair and face looked perfectly fine. You had racked your brain to try and come up with an explanation for why everybody was ignoring you but the only thing that came to mind was that Daemon had found a way to get himself, and to an extension you exiled again.

You smiled at the approaching lord coming from the council room, which you remembered to be working alongside your husband. But like many before him his eyes widen and immediately turn to the ground, rushing past you like you were hideous. You feel your cheeks flush with embarrassment and anger as you walk into the council room to find your husband. As soon as you enter a silence rolls over the remaining lords halting every conversation. One of them even has the audacity to awkwardly cough while looking at Daemon.

Your husband however unashamedly stares at your chest and slowly you feel horrified as you notice the wetness at the chest of the bodice. You groan softly as your eyes find two wet sticky splotches on your bodice. Your body is leaking milk unbeknown to you. It made sense if you thought about it being at the end of pregnancy, but it does not mean you have to like what your body is doing to you. As if walking around like a duck and not being able to see your feet because of your belly wasn’t enough. Only the gods know for how you had walked around with it. Well, nobody had shamed you all had instead chosen to look away to at least grant you some decency. But you would rather have had somebody tell you, that you were walking around with two bloody milk dots. Men are all so stupid.

“Alright out with you all!” Daemon voice booms through the room as he pulls you into his chest. With flushed cheeks you press your face into his chest. “I have been walking with these for a while now, everybody saw, how stupid. I even cursed out some lords after not greeting me.” Daemon only laughs and softly kisses your forehead. “Well at least they listen to my wedding speech about not looking or even thinking about sexualizing you. You look up at survey the room but the only two people still left are Daemon and you. “Well, you did promise to cut out their guts and feed it to them if they did so it think your point was clear. “He lifts you up and gentle sets you down on the table. “Damn straight, you are mine, all mine.” His lips find the border of where your neck and jaw meet, and he possessively kisses the little spot.

“Uncle Daemon…” the soft voice of Rhaenyra carries through the room, but Daemon does not stop instead he attacks your neck with more kisses. “Oh, never mind.” You hear the secondhand embarrassment in her voice as she took in the sight in front of her, but neither Daemon nor you could care at this moment. Moreover, you have had your share of embarrassment for today and having to have a little chat with Rhaenyra after she had just seen you two was not really on things you wanted to discuss today.

113 AC

Daemon was enjoying the sight in front of him. you were laying in the hollow of his arm, your hand laying on his chest, while your head was resting on his arm near his shoulder. Sun was coming through the window as the night sky made space for the sun. your belly was slightly in the way, but he did not care much as he could feeling nothing else then being contempt. You were going to give him another heir and he could not be happier your first pregnancy had been a breeze and he had eased up on the worrying bit the second time around but still he liked it best when you were close to him and engaging in too straining activities.

The door to your shared room opened with a little creak and he looked up, trying to make out who was the intruder. His other hand automatically found the knife hidden by the nightstand. However, the sound of little feet made him halt in his actions as he recognized his first-born son. “Dada, I stay?” Daemon felt you stir in his arms as your eyes fluttered open. You looked over your shoulder and saw your little toddler standing there. Immediately a smile crossed your face. Daemon wondered how the little Baelon had been able to make his way out of his crib and find his way towards your room but let it slide as he saw his soon tiredly wiping his eyes.

You had opened the blanket for Baelon and gestured that he should nestle himself between the two of you, scooting just so slightly back his little body could fit in-between the two of you. Baelon did not need any more encouragement as he climbed his way over Daemon legs to nestle himself in-between. His head rested on your chest, and you closed your eyes again as you hand made its way to Baelon’s back, drawing small circles to sooth him. not long after Daemon heard your breathing pattern change and he knew you were back to sleep. He smiled at himself as he ignored the sun coming into the room even further and nestled back in with his little family. Business could wait he had everything he needed right here. Daemon closed his eyes but not before tightening his grip on his wife and his son. 

[enalovesharry]

Hard times

summary : harry messes around before a show and gets his zipper stuck on a doggy suit costume and you come to the rescue!

warnings : swearing, crying, fluff!

*currently writing a blurb so have this little thing 😝 ps not really proof read so sorry for any confusion in my outrages writing 😭*

It felt like you had been searching for years, left and right, through all the cracks for Harry at the venue.

Jeff sent you on a mission to find him after he didn’t rock up to the soundcheck right before doors opened and he was set to be on stage in about 2 hours.

You weren’t worried, well not yet you weren’t. You also don’t think they checked his dressing room since he’s like a little energetic 5 year old who’s just had 7 bowls of sugar because he can’t ever sit still.

Knowing that for a fact because he’s either running around the stage, backstage, the whole ass venue or even exploring in some small janitors closet or something. Harry was a mad man, or let’s say he was a handful.

Opening the door into his dressing room you call out his name. “H? Are you in here, you missed sound check and everyone’s wondering where you are.” Closing the door behind you, your eyes dart to the bathroom, hearing someone mumbling in there.

Padding over to the small bathroom in his dressing room you peek your head in and holy fuck.

There he stands in front of the mirror, a large dog head from a costume is sat on the counter and he’s cursing to him self as he turns to the side, trying to rip the small zip down that goes from his neck all the way down.

“Oh my god…” you cover your mouth, walking into the doorway, his head snaps to you, his frown becoming more prominent as he turns fully to you, hands dropping beside him.

“Baby, I’ve been stuck in this fuckin’ costume for 30 minutes.” He’s almost on the verge of tears because of how hard he’s been trying.

It looks like he’s just had some hardcore sex, his hairs all sweaty and there’s sweat along his hairline, cheeks red and a panicked look on his face. His face drops as you throw your head back laughing so hard you could feel your ribs hurting.

“There’s no- no way this is real. Where did you even get this costume from!” You stumble over your words, giggles coming out of your mouth as he stands there like a child who’s just been told off, you walk over to him, your hand coming out to run your fingers against the fake fur on the costume. “You’re such a dumbass. Who knew you were a furry…” you look up at him, he’s still frowning.

“I perform in 2 hours, please get me out of this.” His expression turns serious, a hard look on his face now.

“Mm, I’d rather watch you go on stage in this. This is hilarious! What a story this is gonna be.” You smile as your hand comes up to see if you can tug on the zipper more, you squint your eyes pulling hard on the zipper a few times before you can think-

“Oops.” The zipper pulls off, leaving it with just the thing that connects it, you look to your hand before slowly lifting your head up to Harry, he stands there, eyes wide as he looks down at the zipper piece in your hand. “Well… we have a problem.”

“No, Y/N, no what.” His hands come up to his face, you place the piece onto the counter, feeling guilty because you knew Harry was frustrated having tried to get out of this dog costume for a while, you don’t realise he’s actually started crying.

He leans back against the counter, hands still on his face as he drops his head to his chest, you see his breathing is staggered, breathing unevenly with every breath he takes, you know every sign of him like the back of your hand so your heart does chip a little also knowing that if you were stuck in a dog costume you’d breakdown too.

“Oh baby, don’t cry please. Look at me, H.” You move in front of him, hands coming up to his wrists, tugging on them slightly but he keeps them pressed against his eyes.

“No. I’m crying- why am I crying, I’m so stupid.” He shakes his head. “I’m never gonna get out of this costume, I’ll be stuck in it till I’m in my grave.” He mumbles against his hands, you did want to laugh at how he was over reacting, but that wasn’t right for the situation right now.

“No you’re not, I can work something out. Baby, please look at me, it’s making me sad now. I don’t think someone wants to see me and you crying over a bloody doggy suit.” You chuckle, hands tugging on his wrists once again and he finally moves his hands, intertwining yours with his he looks down at you, eyes red and a small pout on his lips.

You then bring one of your hands up, brushing his eyelashes, wet with tears before wiping a tear that fell onto his nose, leaning up to peck his lips softly.

“Breathe, yeah? I always work things out, y’know that. You’ve been with me long enough to figure that out.” You smile at him and he smiles at you, a dimple finally poking out.

You then focus your attention on the zipper bit where the zipper teeth are together, you move your hands to the gap where the zip was and you pull and to your surprise they pull away from each other easily and you cheer, smiling widely.

“All my magic.. would you look at that, you’re free!” You giggle, pulling it all the way till he can pull the suit off as it drops to his feet, now he’s just standing there, in his boxers. “You’re a mad man, Styles. Still wondering why I didn’t get a warning contract before I started dating you…”

“Heeeeyyy, you love me.” He gives you a open mouthed grin, arms coming out to pull you into a tight hug. “Thank you for saving me, angel girl.”

“I swear if I find you in this situation again, you’re on your own.” You laugh against his chest, hands coming to wrap around his waist.

The situation was resolved and now it was a one of a kind story to tell, if helping him get out of a $30 doggy suit didn’t prove your loyalty to him you don’t know what else would. You loved this crazy man and wouldn’t of changed that moment for the world.

this just popped into my mind how silly

Dividers!! @firefly-graphics 🤍

[anchoredarchangel]

Thanks for the tag @anincompletelist ! I’ve never played this one before 💫🤍

Rules: Post your favourite line or passage from as many of your published works as you’d like. Let yourself feel proud of your creations! Tag as many people as you post snippets, so your fellow fic friends can be proud, too.

beneath the cut because I’m wordy as hell oops.

From No Consequences:

If Alex revisits the metaphor about his brain at the best of times, this is the moment where the toddler holding the flipbook exchanges their sugar addiction for straight cocaine. The good stuff. High quality. This is Alex’s brain on drugs.

From Hope is a Five-Alarm Fire:

Alex stares at him without blinking the way other people probably look at renaissance art: like magnificence beyond the scope of words, a pinnacle of creation, something meant to be kept pristine, locked away from the ruining touch of the masses. Except he’s putting his filthy fucking hands all over it, leaving smudging fingerprints behind. And the art likes it. 

From The Cosmos in His Palms:

Alex thinks about Henry, about pulling the stars from the sky just to tuck them carefully in Henry's chest beside his heart to keep him company, so he'd never have to look for them again; about what Alex would be willing to do to put the cosmos in his palms.  He’d do the impossible. He’d defy the gods that put them there. 

From The Throne He Deserves:

Who kisses Alex like he’s the water in the desert and he doesn’t care if it’s a mirage so long as he doesn’t die in pain, and who fucks him like it might be worth the pain of dying just to do it again and again. 

From The Wait Before the Fall:

“This is not all that I am,” Henry tells him, turning back to the statue, something tumultuous in him settling, going just as still as the museum air. “Not anymore.” He looks up, that beautiful, defiant tilt to his chin; not to the man being crushed, but at the plaster of the woman—head draped in a lion’s skin, club in hand, kneeling on the shield in victory. Valour and Cowardice: Valour.

From A Spark and Flash Paper:

In a rare moment of courage, he does the latter. He chooses himself. No bloody consequences.

From A Sin Better Than Heaven:

“Imagine how I will feel to your cock,” he says boldly, and Alexander meets his eyes; the brown all but eclipsed by a full moon of darkness.  “I will not,” he murmurs, “because I intend to know with certainty.”

From The Very Portrait of Temptation:

Alexander’s mouth slows, a kiss longer and deeper and felt in every nook of him—the king's tongue sliding expertly past Henry's teeth, like a dagger through the widening crack in what remains of Henry's armor. This—it is everything, and everything that it is is enough to drive men to madness beyond the point of hysteria, enough to lose what remains of his wits, enough to foolishly hope for an unlikely change of fate. One where he is not a deceitful seducer, but rather a trusted confidante. One where he is even, perhaps, an actual lover, true as North.  A beautiful agony, most mad indeed. 

my tumbling has been iffy lately and I’m not sure who has already played—so if you see this and you haven’t posted one yet, here’s an open tag from me to you 💌

but also @firenati0n when you’re back I want to see!

[forlorn-crows]

hi. dewswiss. hot summer day. popsicles. put dew in a situation.

- cuck mountain anon

i think swiss ended up in the situation more than dew oops

Dew's mouth is cherry red, slick with syrupy popsicle juice, and Swiss cannot stop staring. He's saying something, Swiss is sure, something about . . . pickups? Tuning? Some complaint about the way his guitar tech strung one of his guitars last time?

Swiss doesn't know. He's not listening. All he's focused on is the way Dew's little pink tongue darts out to catch a stray drip, how his lips suck around the length of the treat, teeth scraping on the way back up.

It’s some berry flavor—strawberry, raspberry. He won’t ask.

He’d rather taste.

Swiss watches a light pink drop trail from the corner of Dew’s mouth all the way down to the underside of his jaw. It threatens to drop, to splatter right on the fire ghoul’s bare chest. Swiss imagines it rolling down, catching on the jewelry running through his nipple. But it doesn’t, because he can’t help it; he reaches out and swipes it up with his thumb, gathering it on the pad and bringing it to his lips with a sly smile.

Dew just rolls his eyes. “You’re not listening,” he deadpans. He takes a deliberate, slow lick of the popsicle, watching Swiss’ eyes track his tongue gliding over the icy surface.

“Hm,” the multi ghoul hums distractedly. “Raspberry.”

“Uh huh,” Dew confirms, flicking his tongue off the melted tip.

Swiss scoffs. “Baby, you’re teasing.”

“I’m eating. You’re staring.” Dew sticks out his tongue at Swiss, showing off the stripe of artificial dye down the middle of his tongue.

Swiss fights the urge to groan when his cock kicks in his shorts. He doesn’t succeed, and a little rumble manages to rattle through his chest.

“Something wrong, baby?” Dew tilts his head, the pet name just as saccharine as the sugar across his tongue. Swiss groans for real then, reaching his hand out to circle Dew’s wrist completely, preventing him from going in for another suck. He leans in close, close enough to feel the huff of Dew’s amused snicker waft over his own mouth, fruity-scented.

“Let me taste you,” he says softly. “Come on, sweetheart—” Swiss noses at the smaller ghoul’s sharp cheekbone, trailing along until his lips kiss the shell of his ear. “—let me sink my teeth in a little.”

The popsicle melts a little more. A drop of it lands on Swiss’ forearm.

“Help me finish it then,” Dew says after a beat. So easily, so simply, as if telling the time. A shrug in the form of words.

Swiss pulls away and shoots him a confused look. Dew rolls his eyes, taking his turn to lean in close, inching the popsicle and his own mouth closer to the multi ghoul.

“I said,” his voice pitching lower into something more mischievous. “Help me—” He gets closer, dropping his gaze down to Swiss’ lips with a smirk. Grinning at the way his grip loosens to let Dew closer, how Swiss’ mouth parts a little the closer he gets.

“—finish it.” Dew seals his mouth around the bottom edge of the frozen treat, pushing the tip of it into Swiss’ lips.

Swiss makes the tiniest of noises before laving his tongue from bottom to top, groaning when he barely licks over Dew's lips in the process. He grips hard on the fire ghoul's wrist and bites around the bottom, trying to nip at him.

Dew pulls away. "You're gonna bite it off the stick, greedy. Stay at the top."

Swiss grumbles but acquiesces, licking sloppily back up the length of the treat. Dew rolls his eyes and sucks hard, siphoning the juice from the ice noisily.

Swiss can't help the noise he makes. He'd rather Dew be sucking on him. Hard and greedy and full of teeth.

He could just bite the rest of it off the stick in one go. He really could just . . .

"Ow, you fucker," Dew swears as Swiss' teeth scrape his top lip as he latches onto the stick and pulls the popsicle clean off in one motion. Two seconds later Swiss smiles wide, fangs glistening with a faint pinkish color. His tongue, too, when he sticks it out, tip of it inches from Dew's nose.

He's smug. Face stuck in that signature shit-eating grin he loves so much.

Dew stares at him, appalled, mouth agape. He glances down at the popsicle stick, now devoid of its treat, then back up at Swiss.

"Did you just swallow that whole?"

Dew doesn't get the answer to that question. But he finds he doesn't particularly need to know, not with the way Swiss pounces on him, clever tongue already licking at his mouth as he presses him down into the grass.

[mattmurdocksscars]

Back From The Dead Epilogue

I know you guys waited a long time for this and I'm sorry it's so short. But the good news is, I've left it open for future installments and potentially requests. This won't be the last we see of Sweetheart and Matt, I promise 💖

So, without further ado, here's our temporary goodbye.

Word Count: 841

Pairing: Matt x Mom!Reader

“Matt! Is Michael almost ready?” You called from the kitchen. Matt had been tasked with getting your two year old son ready for his birthday party while you finished getting everything set up. A herculean task given that the toddler had much to say about his outfit choices nowadays. 

“Incoming!” Was all you heard before the sound of little feet running across the hardwood floors reached your ears. You had just enough time to turn around before Michael was launching himself into your arms.

“Mama!”

“Hello, my love! Look at you!” You exclaimed. Michael was dressed in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt that said “Two Rex” with a T-Rex below the writing. Michael grinned then made a face like he was growling.

“Rawr!”

“That's right, baby. The T-Rex says rawr!” You heard a chuckle coming from your room and smiled, looking up to see Matt walking into the room. He was dressed down for the day, jeans and a simple blue shirt. He walked over to the two of you and wrapped his arms around you both, kissing first your head then Michael's. 

“Is he dressed to your satisfaction?” Matt teased. 

“Yes, he is. How'd you convince him to wear this shirt. He was so against it this morning.”

“I may have promised him extra cake if he wore it.”

“Matthew!” His deep chuckle rumbled through you as he grinned. 

“Come on, it's his birthday. Let him have the extra cake.”

“Alright, but when he's all hopped up on sugar and doesn't want to sleep tonight, that's on you.” You giggled. Your joking was interrupted by a knock on the front door and Michael immediately began wiggling to get down. 

“Uncy Foggy! Aunty Karen! Grammy Maggie! They're here!” You laughed as Michael ran for the front door, little hands reaching for the door knob but not quite able to turn it. Matt followed him over and opened the door, letting everyone in with a cheerful greeting. You put the finishing touches on the cupcakes you'd made just as everyone came around the corner. 

“Hey! Thanks so much for coming. We really appreciate it.” 

Foggy, who was currently holding Michael, shook his head.

“Like we'd miss this little guy's birthday for anything!” 

Everyone nodded their agreement and you and Matt smiled, glad for the little family the two of you had. It hadn't been easy, raising a baby, but the help you'd gotten from the three individuals in the room had been absolutely critical in the two of you making it through. 

Shaking the thoughts from your head, you guided everyone back into the living room where you all began to play and spend time focusing on Michael. The day passed by in a whirlwind of fun and before you knew it, everyone was heading home and you were putting a worn out toddler to bed. 

Heading to the kitchen, you quietly called out to Matt.

“I think I'm gonna have a glass of wine, do you want anything?” You were just reaching for the glass when arms wrapped around your middle and a warm body pressed against your back. Matt settled his head on yours and began to sway the two of you back and forth. 

“I don't think that's a good idea.” Your brows furrowed and you lowered your hand.

“Why's that?” You could feel his face shift and you assumed he was grinning. His hands shifted so one was on your hip and the other rested on your lower belly. 

“We're pregnant.” He breathed out. You froze, eyes going wide with shock. “You'll need to take a test to be sure but… I'd recognize that sound anywhere.” 

“Oh my God, Matt…” You felt tears well up, your hands coming up to cover your mouth. Anyone else would assume you were panicking but Matt, knowing you so well and knowing your body, knew you were excited. 

“Oops again?” He said, with a small laugh. It brought out your own laughter and soon the two of you were giggling like crazy. It took a few minutes for the two of you to calm down. You wiped your eyes.

“Oh, Matt. I'll get a test tomorrow and we'll check but I trust your ears. I can't believe it. How long have you known?”

“Just a couple of days. I wasn't sure at first but then we were laying together the other night and I had my head on your stomach. It was pretty obvious then.”

“Why'd you wait to say something?”

“I wanted to wait until after Michael's party. In case you reacted differently.” You hummed and nodded. That was fair. If you had reacted badly, it would have affected Michael's party and that wouldn't have been fair to the child. 

You turned in Matt's arms and faced him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“A lot of things are gonna change. You and I are gonna be evenly matched. Are you ready for this?” You asked him.

“Sweetheart, with you by my side, I am ready for anything.”

[visceravalentines]

A Place of Business

Dad's Best Friend!Dilf!Bo Sinclair x AFAB!Reader

2.3k words

Part 1 here!

Smut & fun bantery fluff, age gap, dad's best friend, kind of aggressive semi-public oral, implied cum swallowing, dirty talk, praise, reader is referred to as darlin', baby girl, and pretty.

Okay so here's the sequel and also part 3 is almost done and maybe this is a whole fic now oops?? I hope you love it, I know a lot of y'all have been going through it this week and you deserve this man being obsessed with you. <3

Tagging my down bad dilf moots. @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better, @slutforguts, @brandnewhuman, @fluffy-little-demon, @cypressnmarigolds, @slasherlouvre

The bell on the shop door tinkled your arrival.  Bo looked up from the paperwork on his desk and smiled at you.  “Mornin’, sunshine.” 

“Good morning, handsome.  How are you?” 

He sat up straight and stretched his back.  “Better with you here.”  You set a disposable travel cup of coffee on his desk.  “Aww, what an angel.” 

“You’re so easy to please.” 

He smirked.  “You would know, baby girl.  C’mere.”  He beckoned you around the three-sided desk.  “Coffee could use a little sugar.” 

“I thought you said no action in the front of house,” you said even as you rounded the corner of the desk, standing with his knee between your legs. 

“I am the boss, I make the rules,” he said, tilting his head back as you bent over him. 

“Whatever you say, sir.” 

He jerked back before you could kiss him.  “Hey now, you watch that mouth.  I will not have that kinda talk here, this is a place of business.” 

“I’m so sorry, sir.” 

He shook his head, unable to keep from looking pleased.  “I oughta glue those pretty lips shut.” 

Movement out of your periphery alerted you both simultaneously that someone was walking up to the door.  You took a big step backwards and Bo spun his chair to face forward. 

“Why don’t y’make yourself useful and grab me the new files from yesterday?” he said as the customer came in. 

“Yes sir.”  His expression brought an irrepressible smile to your face as you escaped to the filing closet in the back. 

It had been a week since your parents’ backyard barbecue, a week since a man your father’s age had stolen your heart and fucked you in your high school bed – and done such a good job of it.  When you had presented the idea of a summer job at Bo’s shop to your parents, they were enthusiastic. 

“Bo’s a hard worker,” your dad said.  “He’ll have you hunched over that desk in no time.” 

And he was right, in a manner of speaking. 

Spending all day every day with Bo had been wonderful, but truth be told, you hadn’t had much time to yourselves.  Besides making out in the break room, sneaking a hand on his ass in the garage, and of course, the conclusion to your first day on the job wherein he bent you over the desk and made you see stars, you hadn’t had the real pleasure of his company all week. 

It felt wise to play it safe at first.  No need to risk a neighbor catching you groping each other during his smoke breaks or arousing your parents’ suspicion with too many late nights.  It was a delightful kind of torture, making eyes at each other through the window between the office and the garage.  He was so attractive, that mouth, those hands. 

At night you’d lay in bed, texting him sweet things, dirty things.  Once, just once, you’d called him, let him murmur the most charming filth you’d ever heard, touching yourself to his voice in your ear.  The thought of your parents somehow finding out kept you from doing it again no matter how much fun it had been. 

You heard the tinkling of the bell again, heralding the customer’s departure, and turned around just as Bo appeared in the doorway.  “Found those files you wanted, si – “ 

He was on you in seconds.  “Fuck the files, get over here.” 

He pushed your hips back, pinning you against the wall, and you knotted your fingers in his hair as he kissed you like he might never get the chance again.  You nipped at his lip, grinding against him, goosebumps rolling across your skin as he slid his hands under your shirt and up your ribs. 

“I want you so bad, darlin’,” he said, breathless.  “I’ve half a mind to take you on the hood o’ that hybrid in the garage.” 

“Take me right here,” you replied, fumbling with his belt. 

He grabbed a hold of your wrists.  “You stop that, y’vixen.” 

You gave him the most desperate look you were capable of, which wasn’t hard.  “Please.” 

“Fuck, baby.” 

“Please?”  You sank to your knees, eyes locked on his face, ran your hands down his jeans.  He chuckled helplessly, pushed his fingers through your hair.  “Please?  I’ll be so quiet.” 

“Nah, I want you loud, darlin’.”  Bo took your hands and pulled you to your feet, wrapped you in his arms and kissed you sweetly.  “Come over tonight,” he said with his nose on your nose.  “Spend the weekend with me.” 

“What am I supposed to tell my folks?” 

“That you met some cradle-robbin’ good-for-nothin’ and you’ve been swept off your feet.” 

“I don’t think that’s gonna fly.” 

“Damn.” 

You squeezed him around the waist.  “I bet I could tell them I’m taking a trip with a friend.  Won’t be back til Monday.” 

“Shop’s closed Monday.” 

“Tuesday then.” 

“Shop’s closed Tuesday.” 

“Bo,” you laughed. 

“I’m retirin’.  Gonna go live in sin with this cute lil thing I picked up at a friend’s house.”  

You pinched him.  “You’re terrible.” 

“I know, darlin’, just the worst.”  He kissed you again. 

“I’ll have to go home first and pack.” 

“Pack what, you don’t need no clothes.” 

You laughed.  “I have to tell my parents that I’m going somewhere.” 

He sighed dramatically.  “I s’pose that’s fair.” 

You tapped your finger against the scar on his chin.  “Don’t you have work to do?” 

“Nah I told you, I’m retirin’.  You take over, I’ll strut around and distract you.” 

“I thought that’s what you paid me for.” 

“Damn right.”  He pecked you on the cheek and reluctantly let you go, walking out into the hall before turning back around and leaning in the doorway.  “Hey.” 

You glanced up from the files, which someone had scattered all over the floor. 

“You look lovely today, darlin’, I mean it.” 

His sincerity warmed you from the inside out.  You smiled bashfully.  “Thanks, Bo.” 

“‘Specially on your knees like that.” 

Your jaw dropped open and he ducked away, snickering.  “You’re an ass!” you called after him, suppressing a grin. 

The morning soon became busy and the time passed quickly.  The lunch hour came and went with a slew of customers picking up and dropping off their vehicles.  When at last there was a lull, Bo sat down heavily in the desk chair and you perched on the desktop nearby. 

“I’m ready to call it a day, baby, what d’you think?” 

You lit up.  “I’ll go lock up right now.” 

He gave you a tired smile.  “Nah, it’s only three.  I can hold off on retirement for a couple more hours.” 

You stretched out your leg, poked him with the toe of your sneaker.  “What if we make a bet?” 

Bo raised his eyebrows.  “I am a gamblin’ man.” 

You slid off the desk, crouched just beneath it with your hands on his knees.  “If I can get you off before the next person comes in, we leave when they do.  If not, we stay ‘til five.” 

He regarded you with interest.  “And what happens when that person comes in and the job ain’t done yet?” 

“No one can see back here, I’ll just hang out.” 

“You and me both, I s’pose.”  You beamed.  Bo shook his head, scootched to the edge of the chair, undid his belt.  “And here I thought I was the devil.” 

“I’ll corrupt you yet, Bo Sinclair.”  That earned you a loud, authentic laugh. 

It took some maneuvering, but finally you managed to get his dick situated to where it was both accessible and not pinched in his fly.  A smirk played faintly on his lips as you stroked him, working up the beginnings of an erection.  His blue eyes flicked up to the door periodically and then back to you. 

“You’re so big,” you remarked. 

“You don’t gotta flatter me, darlin’, I already – fuck.”  His whole body tensed and his fingers clenched around the arms of the chair as you slipped him abruptly into your mouth.  “Goddamn, baby girl, you’re a miracle.” 

You hmmed in agreement, causing him to arch his spine as his cock hardened to its full length.  You sucked him all the way in, until his tip bulged at the back of your throat, then slid your tongue slowly along the ridge on the underside of his dick, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes.  You’d be damned if there wasn’t a blush creeping up his neck. 

You pulled him out of your mouth with a pop.  “What’s the matter, Bo?  You look a little worked up.” 

“You’re too damn good at that, darlin’.  Makin’ me jealous wonderin’ who you been practicin’ on.” 

“This is my first time, actually.” 

He stared at you.  “…you gotta be kiddin’.” 

You grinned wolfishly.  “You’re so gullible.”

He scowled.  “The devil, I swear.” 

“I don’t know why you think I’m so sweet and upstanding.” 

“I liked it better when your mouth was full.” 

You took that as your cue, pulled him back in and then out once more before wrapping your lips around his tip and circling the frenulum with your tongue.  He let out a low moan, relaxing back into the seat, eyes easing shut. 

You had him right where you wanted him, his abs clenching with the rhythm of your mouth, when the tinkling of a bell announced the arrival of a third party. 

Bo’s eyes snapped open.  He was immediately bolt upright.  “Mrs. Swenson, how are ya this fine afternoon?” he asked brightly.   

You started to withdraw when suddenly his hand was on the back of your head, holding you in place.  Your eyes widened as he pushed his dick deeper into your mouth.  Mrs. Swenson said something in reply but it was lost to you forever as his fingertips dug into your scalp. 

“Well, I’m sure we can help you with that,” Bo said in a remarkably even voice.  You looked up at him.  It was like he had donned a mask.  He was completely unbothered, totally composed.  It was a little scary and incredibly alluring. 

With the utmost care to avoid any lewd sounds, you picked up where you’d left off, cupping his tip beneath your tongue, pressing him against the roof of your mouth, sliding him all the way in and then almost all the way out as he discussed the finer points of tire rotation with Mrs. Swenson. 

“You’re looking well, Bo,” Mrs. Swenson said.

“Thank you, ma’am,” he smiled, clenching your scalp.  “Clean, wholesome livin’.”

You heard a pause.  “...don’t you smoke?”

“Sure do.”

The amount of saliva collecting in your mouth was becoming a problem.  You gripped Bo’s calves, cast a pleading glance up at him.  He didn’t look down at you but seemed aware of your plight judging by his crooked smirk and the way he spanned a thumb over to the corner of your eye to smudge away the tear collecting there.

By the time he had set an appointment with Mrs. Swenson and sent her on her way, you were drooling, your eyes streaming, utterly helpless, undeniably aroused.  When that bell gave one last blessed jingle he at last met your gaze.

“Took that like a champ, darlin’.”  You whimpered.  He tilted his head, admiring you.  “What a mess. ‘S enough to melt a man’s heart.”  Bo cupped his hand under your jaw and eased himself out of your mouth.  You gasped in relief and wiped the spit off your chin.  

“Y’lost the bet, but you look so fine I think you’ve earned an early end to the day.”  He pushed the chair back and leaned down to kiss your swollen lips.  “Certainly been puttin’ in work.”

You moved to get up and he stopped you with a hand on your chest.  “Ah-ah, where d’y’think you’re goin’?  Never leave a task half-done, baby girl.  Catch your breath and get back at it.  I wanna cum in that pretty mouth.”

Several uninterrupted minutes later, he did just that.  The sight of him with his head thrown back and your name on his lips was an absolute dream.  He kissed you again with the taste of himself still sweet on your tongue.  You were out of breath, throat sore, hair disheveled, indescribably content. 

He wove his fingers between yours, kissed the backs of your hands.  “I wanna make you happy, darlin’.  Anythin’ you want, it’s yours.” 

“I want to wake up with you tomorrow,” you said, suddenly shy. 

Bo smiled at you, a gorgeous, genuine smile that lit up his face.  “Well then you best run along home and pack your toothbrush.” 

“What am I gonna do with my car?  I can’t just park in your driveway, someone will see it.” 

“I’m a mechanic, doll.  I have a big-ass garage.” 

“Will you make me dinner?” 

“I will fix you supper tonight and breakfast in the mornin’, you ain’t even gotta ask.” 

“What a gentleman.” 

“And a scoundrel, don’t you forget it.” 

You wanted him so badly, wanted to touch every part of him, wanted to listen to him talk about anything in the world, wanted to hear him say your name in every tone of voice, wanted to wake up beside him the next morning and the morning after that and the one after that and maybe the one after that, too.  The feeling had arrived well ahead of the words to describe it.  So instead, you climbed to your feet, took his face in your hands, and kissed him for a long time. 

Bo squeezed your hips.  “You best hurry up now, I might die o’ loneliness before you show up.” 

“I’ll be fast.” 

“Course you will, you ain’t bringin’ no clothes.” 

[thebluestbluewords]

pie dough woes

"It's not even good yet!" Jane cries. "Stop stealing all the pastry, there's going to be none left for the filling! You're going to become a raw pie if you keep it up!" 

"You're a raw pie." Jay manages, yanking his hand back out of Jane’s rolling pin range with a handful of dough scraps that he doesn’t deserve. There’s not even cinnamon on them yet, and if he’d just wait, and stop ruining all her plans they’d be twice as nice with the cinnamon and butter mixture she’s got planned for them. 

"You're a delicious baked pie,” Carlos says earnestly, turning his huge and terrible begging eyes up at Jane. "You're perfect and hot and a harbinger of good things into all of our lives." 

Much like a pie (baked), Jane is not going to melt under this pressure. Her butter has already solidified through the transformative cooking process, and she's got nothing left in her to be melted, even by sweet boyfriends with swoon-worthy puppy dog eyes. 

She props her elbows up on the countertop, careful of the flour bowl she's got out by her left elbow to dust the minipie dough with as she works. 

"You're very sweet, but if you eat any more of my pastry," Jane threatens. "I'm going to need to kick you out of the kitchen. And I'll feel bad about it, and then you'll be directly responsible for making me feel bad, and that's not what good boyfriends do." 

"Lucky 'or 'ou--" Jay tries. 

Jane dips her fingers into the flour bowl. If they're going to be menaces in her kitchen, there are consequences that all boys must face. "Choose your next words carefully." 

Jay wisely chooses to swallow the mouthful of raw dough he's stolen from her minipie preparations before trying again. "I said, lucky for you, we're evil--"

Jane launches her handful of flour at him. 

"Hey!" 

Their kitchen gets morning and afternoon sun because the boys insisted on picking the kitchen with the high, wide windows. It means they need to keep the fans running even in the winter if Jane's doing anything finicky with cold pastry dough, but the sight of her isle boys drinking in the sunlight that spills from the windows most of the day is well worth it. The afternoon sun they've got right now is highlighting the flour stuck to Jay's shirt, his hair, his eyelashes. 

"Oops." Jane says sweetly. "I didn't see you there." 

"Beh." Jay spits. There's sort of a lot of flour in his mouth. Oops.She should probably feel worse about that. "Peh. Ew." 

"I didn't mean for you to swallow it!" Jane cries, but oh, she can't help but laugh too. "I was just-- oh, there's so much in your hair, oh goodness." 

"Janey." 

"Yes!" Jane squeaks. She's doing a poor job at containing her giggles. Jay's eyes look so bright and pretty, even covered in flour. Jane's never looked so pretty before, not even when she's dressed to the nines and cleaned up and not covered in flour and buttery fingerprints from where they'd had a slight incident with part of the cinnamon sugar filling before. 

"You really want us to stop?" 

Oh. 

"I mean, I wanted to make a nice dessert, and it's not-- I like having you here in the kitchen with me, but it's hard to finish the pies when you keep eating all my ingredients, and I had a tray for snails all buttered already, and--" Jane forces herself to slow down, take a breath. There's no reason for her to be anxious about baking. "Don't go away, but please stop eating all my ingredients. They'll taste a lot better once they're baked, and I really do want you to try the pies once they're done." 

Jay smiles at her, flour and all, and Jane can feel the tense muscles all along her back relaxing without anything more than the small reassurance. “Okay. We can stop." 

"Thank you." 

“But you should teach us to make this dough sometime. It’s too good to keep it to yourself.” 

“You don’t—“ Jane laughs, because she can’t stop herself. “You don’t even like baking!” 

Carlos drapes himself over her side, careful and warm and comfortable even though he’s made of bones and dried spaghetti noodles. “Because we don’t know how. It’s not like we had the chance to learn as kids.” 

“I’m not a very good teacher,” Jane warns. “I’m impatient. And you’re too smart for your own good.” 

Carlos leans harder. “You taught me how to straighten my hair properly. That took a lot of patience.” 

“Pastry isn’t quite the same thing as hair, babe. There’s a lot more butter in pastry, if you’re doing it right.” 

“I’ll try putting butter in my hair if you’ll teach us how to make pie,” Jay offers, “you know you want to try butter conditioning. I’ll text Evie about it.” 

“No!” 

“Too late, I’m doing it!” Jay says cheerfully. “Butter—conditioner—thoughts? And send.” 

[liz-allyn]

sugar and vice, pt. 15 [mob!tasm!peter x fem!reader]

summary: what’s worse - a painful truth or a beautiful liar?

words: 5.6 k

chapter warning: trigger warning - *tw sa* - pls read at your own risk. John Walker (is officially a c*nt trigger warning). ANNNNNNGST. Mean awful words.

series warnings: mob-typical violence, bang bang shoot shoot, whump. hurt/comfort. s*xu*l situations. spousal ab^se. family trauma. dr^g use. coercion. manipulation. kidnapping. gore. blood. toxic/yandere!peter (maybe, sorta), negative self talk, shameless forced proximity trope. ‘only ten one bed oops’ trope, imprisonment. slowest burn. a dash of questionable and/or morally grey intentions. extremely toxic relationships.

This version of TASM Peter is not canon. The relationships and characters here are not healthy.

Don't date a mob boss.™️

18+ You’re responsible for your own media consumption, but if you don’t remember when Shia LeBeouf was just Louis Stevens then I’m not sure this content is right for you.

Back to Part 14.

Part 15

She was inches off the ground, her feet kicking wildly. It was no different than a noose around her neck. John dragged her like a ragdoll into a wide bathroom stall. With his beefy hand clamped around her jaw, tight enough to crush it, he shut and latched the partition door.

The forced proximity caused her to mewl louder, hyperventilating in his grip. He lifted her further off the floor by the shoulders and slammed her against the tiles, expelling the air from her lungs. 

He was stronger than she remembered, his grip exponentially more painful. He’d no doubt logged extra hours in the gym, just like he used to, between his time at work and his time violating her.

She was weaker than she remembered, clawing helplessly at his arms with her shoulders pinned against the wall. Shrinking with terror at the feral look in his eye. Eventually, she went limp in his hold, submitting to her fate. She trembled uncontrollably, gasping through her nose, with her toes barely touching the tops of his feet. 

Just like old times.

“There you are!” he cheerfully cooed, with a tone that reminded her of the way two old women greet each other on Easter Sunday. 

His hand cemented her mouth closed while his forearm crushed her chest like a steel beam. “I’ve been worried sick about you, Peach. You haven’t answered my texts... my calls...” He grinned sadistically, with a festive tone. “I was beginning to think you’d fallen off the face of the Brooklyn Bridge!”

She had nightmares like this, where a scream tore at her throat but couldn’t break free. If she could, it would’ve pierced their eardrums. The panic in her eyes was shriller than sirens. Her heart drummed nearly as loud as the muffled music in the bar outside. Terror gripped her, and all he could do was laugh.

If she could scream, it would be one name: Peter.

As if John could read her mind, he narrowed his gaze, eyes darkening. Threatening. Daring her. “Now. I’m gonna move my hand so we can chat. And if you do so much as sneeze too loudly, I’ll drown you in that toilet bowl down there.”

She shuddered, tears spilling down her face. She sobbed. But she quit struggling. 

“Atta girl,” he purred with a wicked smile. Licking his lips, he wiped a tear away with the pad of his thumb. “Here we go.” Slowly, he loosened his grip, letting his palm slide down her chin and his fingers wrap dangerously around her throat.

She gaped up at him, wet eyes glimmering in the fluorescent light. 

“So,” he said, glancing between her petrified eyes and trembling lips. “What gives, Peach? Did you forget about me already?”

“John, please—”

He constricted his hand around the base of her neck. She pictured a python suffocating its prey, squeezing slowly until every bone shattered.

“I can’t help but feel like you’ve been ghosting me,” he said unnervingly lightheartedly. “Be honest. Was it something I said?”

She panted in short breaths. “Nonono, you don’t understand—I’m-’m trying to protect you!”

He tightened his grip.

“It’s the truth! You don-don’t understand—something is wrong... Peter is—he-he’s capable of things that-that humans shouldn’t be capable of!”

He curled a brow upwards, intrigued.

“I’ve seen it! It’s... it’s like the devil. I-I don’t know. He’s-he’s not human, John. I’ve seen him almost rip a man’s head off with his bare hands. Please, he’s... he’s not right—”

“You tellin’ me bedtime stories, Peach?” 

“Nooo,” she sobbed, shaking her head. He allowed her the space to do so. “I’m not, I swear! He-he can’t be stopped...I don’t know what he’ll do to me if he finds out— I don’t know what he’ll do to either of us—”

“Shh,” he whispered, his eyes softening. He wiped another tear from her cheek. “It’s okay, I got ya.” He stroked her face sweetly. It made her skin crawl—a cruel imitation of kindness. “I’m sure you’ll be fine. You just gotta use that silver tongue of yours.”

She gulped at his insinuation. 

“Speaking of which, you blow ‘em yet?” He sneered with a smile that made her nauseous, with an overemphasis on each syllable, “Come on, Hun-ney.” He wiped across her lower lip with the pad of his thumb, narrowing his eyes into slits. He breached her mouth, and she loathed the foul taste of his finger. “I know you’ve got what it takes.” 

She went stiff. Felt cold and clammy. Like her skin wasn’t attached to her muscles. She didn’t want to wear it anymore.

“Well,” John pouted, pulling his thumb away, “if you’re not willing to play, I’ll have to resort to other measures. Guess I’ll have to settle for the kid.”

Her eyes flashed with anger. “Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare touch Bella—”

“I’m not talkin’ about Bella,” he snickered. “And not any of your slutty sisters either.” Her brows pinched together anxiously. “I’m talkin’ about the other kid—Miles Morales.”

Her breath hitched in her throat. A Cheshire smile stretched his face like an evil clown out of a horror movie. “Fucked up what happened to his family,” John mused with faux sympathy. “If anyone ever knew where to find him, he’d be in real danger.”

Her glossy eyes widened and her blood went cold. He didn’t need to choke her. She was being strangled by a mix of terror and rage, cutting off her air supply. She thought she was going to pass out. 

“You can’t do that,” she whispered in shock. He tilted his head, glaring through slitted eyes. “He’s... he’s just a kid. He’s not even a part—”

“Oh, please,” he chuckled darkly. “Don’t tell me you’re that stupid. No one’s gonna believe that he’s some innocent bystander. Especially not the cops in this city.” 

Her upper lip curled. “You’ll never prove anything.”

“I don’t have to,” John said under his breath. His voice was as soft as a cloud, and his eyes turned to ice. “All I have to do is call for backup. Lotsa things happen when the police get involved. Miscommunication. Accidents.”

He let the words sink in, as if holding for a dramatic pause. He leered down at her maliciously, like he’d just delivered a punchline. Her sense of reason detached from her own body. A fresh swell of rage rose in her, boiling the blood in her veins.

She barely recognized her own voice, or the poisonous sound of her fury. “If you come near Miles, you’re a dead man,” she seethed, almost breathless with anger. “Peter will kill you.”

John’s smile melted at her insolence, staring at her with disbelief. Rage spread through him.

She recognized that look. Knew it well, like an old friend. This was usually the part where he’d flatten her with the back of his hand. 

She expected it. Welcomed it. She was convinced that it would have been worth it.

Instead, he pulled back his chin, studying her with scrutiny. “Wow,” he scoffed in disgust. “Parker got you good. He’s your knight in shining armor, isn’t he?”

He released her weight, letting her stand on her own, but kept his forearm against her chest. With the other hand, he reached into his pocket, pulling out a smartphone. Tapping in a code, he unlocked the screen and held it up to her view. She blinked rapidly, her eyes struggling to focus on the harsh blue light.

The image that came into view baffled her. It looked like a red paint can had exploded. But she knew who was showing her the picture, and anxious nausea gripped her. She looked away.

“Look. At. It,” he ordered through clenched teeth. “Recognize this?”

She glanced at the image with a stoic expression, which looked more like a Jackson Pollock painting than anything. She flicked her gaze upwards, glowering in silence. 

“No? Lemme show you the ‘before.’”

He swiped the photo away. Her eyes went cold.

Immediately, she recognized Peter. If you had asked her—that was the first thing she saw. He was in some kind of nightclub, maybe in a part of Web that she hadn’t seen. 

His face was partially obscured. But if you had asked her, she could tell you with certainty that it was Peter. That jutted jaw sporting a beard he’d worn up until today. That sharp nose. The prominent Adam’s apple in his throat. She’d recognize them anywhere. 

If you had asked her, he looked disheveled in a way she couldn’t recognize. His hair was wild. Black shirt slightly askew, hanging too loosely like he spent time in a mosh pit.

But if you had asked her at that moment, she wouldn’t say anything. She was unable to speak.

She was utterly frozen, staring horrified at the half-naked woman on his lap. The woman was wearing nothing but a thong and tiny slivers of fabric that barely contained her breasts. She straddled him, fingers laced around the buttons of his shirt. 

He didn’t look upset by it. Not one bit. 

Didn’t look concerned at all. Instead, his head was thrown back in what appeared to her as ecstasy. She’d recognized that expression. She’d seen it from that same angle. It had only been a couple of days since she was sitting where that woman sat.

A sharp line formed between her brows. It had only been a couple of days. 

This photo was taken with a long lens from a hidden angle. Someone had been spying on him. Watching him, unseen. Recently, too—there was a watermark of a date in the corner of the image. 

It had only been a couple of days ago.

She was numb. She didn’t need to look up at John to see him beaming down at her. The color was draining from her face, her natural hue turning greener every second. Viciously, he flicked his thumb, displaying another image.

This one had them locked in a filthy kiss. 

The next one had his lips latched to her chest.

The next one had his hands cupping her ass. Thumbs toying beneath the waistband of the silver thong she was wearing.

The next one had those hands buried in the woman’s hair—that gorgeous woman with her giant tits and flawless body. Perfect ass hoisted in the air as she bent her knees on either side of his thighs. Her tongue licked the flesh of Peter’s exposed chest. 

Although Honey’s eyes told her it was a still image, her brain projected a motion picture. Her mind crafted each frame, imagining this woman trailing down his sternum until she connected with the hard, thick line in his lap.

In her memories, she could vividly see his eyes, but now they were staring at this woman. Burning her with a hungry gaze. Speaking filthy vows as he worked himself with his own hand. Worshiping her like she was a goddess. 

“Aww, how sad,” John hummed, relishing in her pain. 

When had she started crying?

“Now, check this out. Lemme show you the ‘after.’”

Another flick of his thumb revealed a wider image of the painting. She gasped with horror as she recognized the paint splatter as human remains. It was all that was left of the woman. Body parts and organs spread across a room like disjointed puzzle pieces. Her mouth fell open in a silent gag as her stomach pitched. 

John snorted with a chuckle, “Geez, I can’t imagine the cock on this guy. Talk about splitting a woman in half, eh?”

Her heart crumbled. Her mind was shattered. Like the piano against the wall. Like that guard’s spine. Like the bloody mess of the man who’d kidnapped her. The whole world was red. 

“Did he tell you about Gwen?”

Her heart skipped at the sound of her name. Her eyes darted up to John’s—stunned. How did John know about the woman of Peter’s dreams—the other other woman in his fantasies? She gazed at him in disbelief. He snickered.

“Did he tell you they were married?”

Another stab to her heart. A phantom limb severed. 

“Did he tell you how she died?”

Another stone placed on her chest. She felt her lungs compress and buckle. 

“Did he tell you how he murdered his own wife?”

Now, she was nothing. Less than nothing. Pulverized. Crushed to dust. Ground into the dirt. No more a body than the bloody painting of Peter’s mistress.

“You know what’ll happen to me if something happens to Miles?” John said. 

He hooked a finger under her chin, pulling her gaze up to his. It was effortless. She had no fight left in her body. She was clay in his hands to mold however he wanted. A jellyfish washed up on shore. She had never had a backbone.

“Absolutely nothing,” he breathed, fixing her with a cruel smile. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, but she couldn’t feel them anymore. Couldn’t feel anything. 

“I won’t be the one that Parker goes after. It’ll be you. His sweet, saintly, slutty snake.”

She stared with lifeless eyes, like playing possum. That was a mistake. She knew it wasn’t any fun for John if he couldn’t see her suffer. He wouldn’t be sated. 

“Oh. One more thing. You forgot this.” He put his phone back in his pocket, retrieving another one. Her eyes went wide. It was hers—the one she kept hidden in her bedroom. “Can’t leave this lying around just anywhere,” he glowered. 

She felt an iron grip on her thigh. She gasped sharply, but he cupped her mouth and sealed off the cries. Viciously, he wrenched up her thigh, pulling her legs apart. His fingers groped beneath the hem of her dress. A scream bubbled up in her throat as he shoved his hand into her underwear. 

“Gotta make sure you keep this close,” he sneered through gritted teeth. Cold glass was placed crudely against her flesh, sending a chill that penetrated every cell in her body. In her mind, she thrashed, shrieked, kicked, hollered, scratched, bit, punched, yelled, clawed, bludgeoned, and punctured. But aside from sobbing, her body did nothing. 

Just like old times.

When he retracted his hand, her limbs were rubber. If his hand on her mouth hadn’t nailed her to the wall, she would’ve collapsed. 

Instead, he leered down at her, feasting on her anguish and relishing her torment.

He smirked. 

There was no need for threats. No need to worry about her at all. She was broken. Weak. She would fall apart if he pushed her—a dandelion in a hurricane.

He released her, letting her knees buckle. She slid down the wall, trembling, crumbling beneath the toilet bowl. She winced at the uncomfortable feeling of a foreign object between her thighs.

“You run along now,” he muttered, undisturbed. “You’ll be okay as long as you can manage to keep your legs closed.”

Peter leaned back against the wall, letting the coolness seep into his scalp. His eyes were closed as he hummed a tune playing on the jukebox. Every breath was measured steadily, trying to shut out the noises around him.

He’d almost lost it. Again.

And while he was dreaming up violent pictures and all the different ways he could slaughter the two drunkards—who had smartly disappeared—he felt the sensation of an icy breeze tickling his body. It started gentle, like a gust of late autumn wind against bare skin. A moment later, the temperature plunged. It was excruciating, stab wounds all over his skin like he’d been dropped into a frozen river. 

His eyes opened wide, a gasp filling his lungs. A chill he hadn’t felt in years shot down his spine. His gaze darted across the room, frantically searching. And then he spotted her—his girl stomping across the bar, rushing towards the exit. Her shoulders were rigid, arms wrapped tightly around herself, head down. She was a few paces away from sprinting. He could smell her tears from here.

His eyebrows pinched together. “Honey?”

She stopped for nothing. Scampered on shaky legs and unsteady heels out onto the sidewalk. Frozen tear tracks decorated her cheeks like glitter. She could hear Peter calling after her. The sound of his voice made her want to rip her face off. 

A bomb of vile fury— ugly, savage, and raw— had been set off beneath her ribs. Rage vaporized her insides, burning blisters across her heart. A firestorm in her stomach and chest threatened to incinerate everything in her path.

“Honey! Wait up!”

Her eyes were blurry—glazed over. She recognized the shape of a yellow cab in front of her. Didn’t hesitate for a moment. 

“Taxi!” she shouted, reaching for the door handle. She wrenched it open—if she had a fraction of Peter’s strength, she would’ve ripped the sedan in half.

Just before she crawled inside, the door slammed shut. Again. Peter tried to pull her back from the edge. Again. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa— what the hell—?”

“Don’t touch me!” she shrieked, voice like shattered glass. 

The shrillness of it caused him to jolt. Immediately, Peter removed his hand from her upper arm, a bewildered look on his face. He blinked in confusion, overwhelmed by the redness of her eyes and the streaks of mascara down her face.

“What happened?” he gasped softly. His voice hardened to a demand. “Who did this to you?”

“Get the fuck away from me!” she screamed in a tone that was sharp and piercing enough to cut through the concrete jungle of New York City’s streets. 

Peter suddenly felt every eye in the city on him, reminding him they stood on a busy Manhattan street. Flushed, he glanced around to see a crowd of bystanders turning to look. Curious and judgmental eyes attacked him from every direction.

Calming himself, he lowered his voice. “Honey, talk to me. What happened?”

Her eyes were wild. “Where’s Bella?”

“What?”

“Where is she, Peter? Where did you take her?!”

He curled a brow upwards, studying her, becoming more disturbed by her erratic outburst. “We talked about this,” he said placatingly, “I told you she was safe—”

“All you told me was that you took my family out of their home and hid them away from me!” She roared with a sharp, accusatory tone, “What did you do to them?! Where are they?! What did you do with my baby niece?!”

Compared to her, he was a whisper in the wind. “Honey, please, just calm down—”

“Forget it, I’m leaving!”

“What? No, I’ll drive us home!” Peter rushed after her, trying to maintain control of the situation. Panicked, he made eye contact with a man sitting at the valet stand just off the arcade entrance. He called to him, “Hey! Bring my car ‘round, will ya?” He hurried to give the valet his ticket, and the young man darted off immediately at the command.

Honey was now ten feet away from him and expanding her lead. The crowd was still eagerly watching the drama unfold. His senses buzzed him again as his eyes found a beat cop parked in a police cruiser nearby. He broke eye contact with the suspicious eyes of the officer, jogging away to catch up to her.

She turned a corner just as he approached. “Honey, I said I’d drive you—”

“I’m not going anywhere with you!” she hissed. He jumped into her path, fighting the urge to make contact.

“Wait a minute—!”

“Get away from me!” she hollered, her voice cracked and ravaged with cries. She stopped and backed up, putting several feet between them. A couple that was passing by slowed to a stop to watch. As did a senior man walking his dog. As did an off-duty driver watching from his cab.

Peter could recognize a power shift when he saw one. Now, standing on Fifth Avenue with her screaming her head off in front of a growing audience, she had all the power in the world.

He breathed heavily through his nose, his voice barely above a whisper, “Please, just slow down. Lower your voice. Tell me what’s wrong—”

“Or what?” she snapped, her volume still teetering on hysteria. “You’ll kidnap me again?” She was louder than a jet engine. 

He felt faint, with the constant sirens in his mind alerting him to impending danger. He was defenseless. 

“You're gonna throw a bag over my head and put me in the trunk?” she hissed. “In front of all these people?”

He swallowed hard, stomach twisting. Skin burning from dirty looks in the crowd. Cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. 

“That’s your weakness, isn’t it?” she speared him, relentless in her attack. “You thrive in the shadows. You can’t survive without the dark! Can’t live where people can see how dirty you are out in the open! You’re worse than a rat; you’re fucking vermin! You act like you’re different, like you’ve got some moral code! But you’re no different than those dirty cops! All you want is to control people!”

His chest heaved while his gaze blackened. He lowered his chin, quietly seething. “Honey. Let’s not talk about this here.”

“I’m taking a cab.”

“You’re not gettin’ in a cab by yourself.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not safe!”

She glowered resentfully, jabbing a finger at him, “You’re not safe!” He blinked rapidly, taken aback by the pure loathing in her eyes. Rage flowed through her veins like lava. He’d never seen her so savagely cruel, like she was savoring the violence in her mouth.

“You call that love?” she demanded, voice cracking with cries. “Devotion? That’s obsession! Slavery!” Her whole body was shaking, eyes ablaze. “Fuck you! You don’t know what it means to love!” 

The twist beneath his ribs was beginning to throb. Nostrils flared, he glared back and opened his mouth to speak. She unleashed another barrage the moment she saw his resistance. 

“You know how to fight, but you don’t know what it means to surrender.” Her voice was quieter but no less vicious. She stalked towards him, emboldened by her anger. “You think I didn’t want to leave home? I wanted to run away! But I didn’t! I stayed... because that’s my mother! I stayed there to protect my sisters!” She paused only for air. “Suffering! Sacrifice! That’s love! How dare you pretend you know anything about it!” 

“I’ve sacrificed,” he bit back, his hardened defensively. His eyes were lit up by the cars that passed by, the glimmer in them unmistakable. “And for the record—that’s not love. Love isn’t suffering. That’s fear.”

She eyed him lividly, words spewing out like boiling poison. “How would you know?” she hissed. “Everyone that ever loved you is dead. And everyone left alive is too scared to tell you the truth.”

He pressed his lips together, lifting his chin. His eyebrows furrowed together, eyes hung solemnly on her seething form. She spotted the tick in his jaw. The way he clenched it tight to keep himself from breaking down in her presence. 

Against her will, the sight soured her rage. She inhaled slowly through her nose, biting down her jaw to keep her lip from wobbling in response.

He sniffed, rubbing his nose briefly. “That feel good?” he said bitterly. He glanced up at her, tears brimming in his eyes. “I bet it did. Now you finally know what it’s like to stand up for yourself.”

He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple sliding up and down as if he was keeping something rancid from crawling up his throat. He sniffed again. Eyes flicked away. “Pretty nice bein’ on the opposite end for a change? Or do you get off on the pain more?”

Her irritation flared; his words sliced into her like a dagger. Her eyes burned with built-up tears. 

“You like that, yeah?” he glowered. His eyes flashed with anger, temper flaring. “Ain't that right?” He hissed through gritted teeth, stalking up until he was inches from her. “You love it when the bad men hurt you. Fuckin’ love being a victim. So much that you’re willing to apologize for it. Admit that you wanna be controlled! You wanna be tied up and kept! It’s your goddamn dirty fantasy, isn’t it?”

His voice reverberated off the buildings before he buttoned his lips. Nostrils flaring, he dropped his gaze to the cement beneath their feet. She glared back, but she wasn’t looking at him. 

Instead, she saw that slut writhing on top of him while she foolishly—stupid, stupid girl— worried for his safety. 

“You’re confusing your fantasies with reality,” she sneered lividly. “You bastard, you don’t even know my name. You don’t know anything about me.”

His jawbone twitched, eyes downcast. “How could I? How could anyone? You never let me in.” He glanced up at her beneath his lashes, bitterness in his gaze. “I don’t know if you won’t because you don’t trust me or because it’s just easier for you to lie. But I am the only one who has laid it all out for you! I’ve told you exactly who I am, and what I am!”

She shook her head, her tone virulent, “And I hate all of it.” 

The viciousness of her tone gave him pause. The sweet girl in the coffee shop was gone. Her humanity was ripped from her cells. He stood in horrified awe. Completely aghast and wondering who would have destroyed her like this. Who on Earth had the power to tear apart a soul the way hers had been?

“You were right, Peter,” she softly declared. “Your aunt and uncle didn’t deserve to die like that.” All the tears had drained from her eyes; the remnants dripped from her chin. Her quivering lip shook them loose. “But you do.”

The killing blow. That’s all he needed to hear in order to posit his answer. 

He had been the one to kill her. To break her spirit. Tear apart her soul. He just hadn’t realized it until now.

He heard the roar of a familiar V8 engine. Glancing over, still slightly glazed from the raw energy of their fight, he saw his Basalt Black Porsche Spyder pulling up to the curb. It stopped several paces away, high gloss shine glittering in the streetlights. It was a stunning jewel proclaiming his accomplishments, none of which he could immediately recall—or give a shit about.

Most of the faces on the sidewalk were now pointed away from them, but Peter could hear the cruel things they whispered under their breaths. Maybe they were right.

The valet popped out of the driver's side, smartly avoiding even a glance towards the couple. He disappeared, didn’t even wait for a tip. 

Peter stared at the ajar door, reeling with hot emotions and dreading the next fight ahead.

“Get in the car, Honey,” he muttered darkly. Any ounce of kindness or patience had evaporated.

“Fuck off.”

He flashed rageful eyes at her. “I’m not tellin’ you again. Get. In the car.”

She narrowed her eyes and scoffed at his empty threat. “You gonna have me whacked, Boss?”

He tilted his head. Glowered at her for several moments. “Of course not.” His tone was calm and his eyes gentle, a shocking contrast to his livid demeanor moments before. He strolled towards her until she was within arm’s length.

“I’m gonna let you go,” he said matter-of-factly. “Gonna let you run. Get as far away from me as you can, until I’m nothin’ but a bad memory. I’m gonna let you go free. Let you believe that you really won this time.” Like a feather, he drifted closer, stopping inches from her ear. He whispered icily, “Then I’m gonna hunt you down.” 

She flicked her gaze to his. His eyes were black, possessed by rage and whatever other evil lived inside his soul. “And I will bring you back. In handcuffs, if I have to. In chains.” He leveled his gaze at her, speaking in a hushed tone. “You think I’m scary now? You think I’m the bad guy? No. You haven’t seen me bad, Honey. You haven’t seen me angry.”

Her expression was stone. The threat lingered in the air, but she didn’t respond. He doubted she lacked the courage to do so. She likely didn’t have the energy.

She simply didn’t care anymore. 

“I’ve seen all I need to see,” she said calmly, letting out a tired sigh. 

Rolling her eyes, she rounded around him and began strolling towards the car. She walked with an airy gait, floating like a ghost. Untethered to this world. Empty and void of anything resembling life. “Dinner is over,” she bitterly muttered. “And I’m ready to go back to my room now—”

A force collided with her upper back like she took a punch to the spine. Before she could cry out, she was flying backward. 

The car shrank in her gaze. She came to a sudden stop, crashing against the brick wall of Peter’s chest, steel beams wrapping around her. They were both flying through the air, spinning dizzily, until coming to a hard crash on the pavement. 

The air ejected from her lungs as she rolled to her back. Peter’s body covered hers, shielding her.

A bright flash. Blinding light. A blast of heat. 

A shockwave erupted from the sportscar as it exploded into flames.

And then, there was nothing but silence.

Her lungs felt like they were on fire. She choked on methane, her chest trembling from damage. Her eyes fluttered open to see Peter gazing down at her. Doe eyes. Wide and terrified. He was sobbing. She could barely hear him over the ringing in her ears.

“Wake up, baby... Baby, please, please come back to me, wake up wake up, come back, stay with me staywithmeplease staywithme—”

It sounded like she was at the bottom of a well.

On the next inhale, she broke into a coughing fit. The change in pressure of her airways restored some of her hearing, but she was still trapped in a coffee can. The whole world rattled and buzzed around her. 

Peter’s face filled with relief, albeit short. “I got you.” His voice trembled. She was no longer on the ground. She was freezing and soaked, covered in road mud and sleet. She shook against the heat of his chest. Her fingers were icicles, and it was painful to grip his neck.

“I got you,” he repeated. “S’okay. Gonna get us out of here, okay? Just close your eyes for me.”

The bright lights of a bonfire blinded her, and closing her eyes was a welcome relief. Then her stomach pitched, like she jumped off a building. 

She kept her eyes closed. Gripping him close, her nails dug into the leather of his jacket. She was so cold. Like she’d been walking through a blizzard. Could barely feel her toes. What happened to her shoes?

She jostled as she came to a sudden stop. Her head throbbed from the jerking sensation. It was like she’d been in a car crash. Or had gotten hit by a bus.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Peter repeated, terror stretching his voice thin. “Sorry so sorry so sorry I didn’t mean it, I didn’t mean it—”

She felt herself crying, shaking in his hold. The sharp prickle of gravel on the backs of her exposed legs startled her. Dizzied, she blinked up at him in confusion. His gaze was buried within hers. He cradled her close to his chest. 

She was disoriented. Where did the buildings go? Were they on the roof? When did they go upstairs? Had she blacked out?

“Baby, look at me,” he called to her, his voice as gentle as a lake. Her eyes struggled to focus. Her mouth opened, but she couldn’t breathe enough to speak. Choked on the frost in the air. Choked on the taste of blood in her mouth.

Her eyes went wide, gazing up at him as terror settled in. Her brain started to reboot, putting pieces together, but her pulse pounded as the picture came to life. The car blew up. Right in front of her. They had almost died. She had almost died. Peter had almost died.

She sobbed. Cried out his name.

He held her tight, rocking her like a child. “It’s okay,” he whispered soothingly. He dug his arm beneath her knees, elevating her legs while dipping his hold on her back. He was so warm, always warm all the time—practically burning up. She was so cold. 

“You’re okay. You’re gonna be okay. Just breathe.” 

Tearfully, she hiccuped, sucking in big gasps of air. “Pete—”

“Shh, shh,” he cooed. “Breathe for me, baby. Just breathe. Just like you taught me, yeah? In and out. We’re gonna take a moment to breathe.” 

“M’sorry... I’m sorry about everything,” her voice broke over the words. It felt like her tongue wouldn’t move as she wanted it to. “I didn’t mean it—” 

His face was filthy, streaked with tears and horror and blood. He shook his head, touching his nose to her. “It’s okay, baby. Just rest right now, okay?”

“Peter, what happened?” she cried, shuddering as he rocked her. “Wha...?”

“It’s okay, sweetie. S’okay, we just fell. We fell. You-you hit your head... and—fuck, I’m so sorry, this is all my fault—”

“I’m co-cold...”

“Here.” He shucked off his jacket, blanketing her with it. “We gotta get you warm. Just need t’get a good look at you, see where you’re hurt.”

“Di-Did I almost die?”

He winced. Squeezed his eyes closed, like holding back a scream. “No, baby.” He swallowed hard. “No. I was never gonna let that happen. I’m never gonna let that happen, I swear.” His face crumpled as he pressed an agonized kiss to her forehead. “I’m so sorry. I’ll never—I’ll never hurt you again, I swear it. I swear.”

Her face crumpled as he squeezed her body to his chest. She closed her eyes, burying her wet cheeks in the crook of his neck.

He was sorry. So was she.

But not nearly enough. 

Not yet. 

Continue to Part 16

[back to masterlist]

A/N yeeeeeaaaah. originally, i planned for 14 and 15 to be one chapter, but instead, we needed some semblance of joy. for a moment.

thank you so much for everyone that has given me beautiful feedback and notes and fun little ideas for the playlist—I have been going through a mountain of stuff but I appreciate you all so much.

want to be on the taglist for the next one? make sure you reblog!

take care, spider fam

[salaapaoo]

for the post of what I wanna see: twin krs&cale au but they hate each other initially. just stupid things like krs assuming cale is just some drunktard and cale hating the fact krs wants to slack when there’s a WAR coming.

so they tug each other’s hair, play pranks on each other and try to sabotage everything the other does. BUT. they are the only ones allowed to hate on each other. if one of the twins get insulted or courted the other twin will be SWINGING. regardless of everything they’re still a team dammit.

sure they get to know each other but this rivalry thing they have going on is easier to keep going than admit they actually like their twin.

THINK ABOUT ITTT

If asked about the other, you'd probably receive a roll of the eyes and a scoff in response.

"Hell if I know where that lazy bastard is, probably chasing after that slacker pipe dream like the irresponsible fuck he is." Cale would bite out, his teeth almost audibly grinding as his face wrinkled with disgust.

"It doesn't matter where that drunk piece of shit is. Could be dead in a ditch for all I care," Roksoo breathes out, not even bothering to look up from the novel in his hand.

-

Cale despised the useless "aspirations" that his brother would spew. There was a war brewing on the horizons, looming over them like the shadow of the grim reaper themself, yet Roksoo wanted nothing more than to lay around. The very sight of his brother lazing around in bed served as fuel to Cale's ire, bubbling and licking up to his throat with a rumbling growl.

To make things worse? Nothing seems to deter Roksoo from his stupid goals.

"Oops," Cale lilted, eyebrows raised in mock sympathy as he knocked his bottle of wine into Roksoo's lap, startling him awake from his nap.

His brother sat up on his bed, the merlot wine sticky against his skin as he turned a heated glare towards Cale. This. That blank stare that barely did anything to conceal the displeasure in Roksoo's eyes was yet another thing Cale hated.

He hated liars, but he hated those who refused to speak their minds just as much. To him, they were just as bad with the way they would spin people in circles with their sugar coated words and glib tongues.

"My apologies, brother," Cale spoke with a smile, sitting at the edge of Roksoo's stained bed. He was satisfied with pushing every single one of Roksoo's buttons in hopes of seeing the other explode one day.

"...the alcohol must have rotted your liver as well as your brain," Roksoo said through gritted teeth.

Before he could get up to leave, a hand had reached up to yank at his hair, the other one still wet with alcohol, wiping against the collar of his shirt.

It devolves into a jumble of wrinkled clothing and petty smacks or kicks, only ending when Ron enters the room. His benign smile looking... menacing.

-

Roksoo watches as his brother scoops up the soup with the elegance of a noble. The same elegance that had technically been trained into him, but he was too lazy to show. He had to hide how the corners of his mouth threatened to curl up with a slow sip of water.

"AASHGHJGSFDK," Cale sputtered, soup spraying out of his mouth in a panic.

It took so much convincing for the chef to finally give in to Roksoo's schemes. If anything, it was probably Ron who ended up convincing his own son, who looked scornful as he dumped spices into Cale's bowl.

Roksoo continued to watch with a raised eyebrow as though he had nothing to do with it.

His brother reached for his glass of water in hopes of saving his dying tastebuds, snot and tears already starting to dribble down his face as he took a massive gulp.

"PFFFFFFFFFF-" Cale spat this out, too.

Roksoo personally dumped salt into his brother's water, making sure it dissolved completely. Cale turned to him with a messy face, coughing as he tried to find words to curse Roksoo with.

"You.. YOU FUCKING BASTARD," he screeched, launching himself at Roksoo, whose face split into a wolfish grin.

-

Roksoo had been minding his own business at the tea house when he overheard a pair of women flapping their mouths and spouting worthless shit.

"Ugh, the older twin, is such a piece of garbage!"

"I know! Why does the count even bother to keep him! The second son, Roksoo Henituse, is an angel compared to that--" The woman's voice cut off with a shrill scream.

Roksoo leaned against the ledge of the window, cheek resting against his palm as the porcelain cup dangled from his fingers, "Better watch your mouth before I accidentally drop this cup, too."

Their faces paled at the sight of him, their mouths failing to form words to defend themselves before they scurried off.

"fucking roaches."

-

"isn't the second young master... kinda lazy?" A man voiced, almost drowned out amongst the rowdy crowd of the bar, "It's like the war doesn't exist to him or something.."

Cale felt his veins pop at the slander, his grip around the neck of the wine bottle tightening until his knuckles were white.

The tavern goes deathly silent at the sound of the bottle shattering on the wall next to the stranger's head.

-

No matter how they act as though they hate each other and continue to slander one another... their true thoughts and feelings towards each other are revealed when the war surges through their territory. Surrounded by the stench of blood in the air around them and the clanging of swords ringing through the battlefield, they cover each other's backs while tearing down enemy after enemy.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Your dark sweets answer has my mind reeling. 🥵 I can only imagine baking a soufflé with Peter to see if it would fall due to other activities while it’s rising in the oven. I wonder if he’d dole out a punishment if it fell.

This mans is nasty, fair warning here.

Perfect Timing

Bucky (x Coco): Just Desserts, Three’s Company, By Example

Steve (x Birdy):  Baked Over, Know Better, Exit Plan

Some mommyish kink behaviour and allusions to coercion. Peter likes an older lady.

Please let me know what you think <3

🍮🍮🍮

“Don’t open that,” you stop Peter as he grabs the handle of the oven door, “you’ll break the souffles.”

He smirks and looks at you, leaning on one foot as he gives you a playful wink. You realise he wasn’t going to open the door, he was only trying to get your attention away from your notebook. Your scribbled notes about ingredients and tips fill the lines in cramped text.

“Oops,” he pulls his hand away as you shake your head and adjust the tripod that holds your phone, “hope I didn’t ruin the video.”

“No, I’m not filming,” you assure him, “waiting on the timer.”

“Ah,” he comes closer as you refocus the lens and angle it down to the countertop. When you have the final result, you’ll be able to get a nice close up on the crisp tops before you break through to the gooey centre, “you don’t need an expert taster by chance?”

He puts an elbow on the marble as he watches you. You give him a look as you close up your notebook and tut. He’s in a good mood, you don’t want to ruin it.

“What else am I gonna do with them?” You shrug, “I’m cutting back on sugar.”

“You are?” He sounds disappointed and reaches to brush your hip, dancing down your thigh and pinching the soft flesh through your skirt, “you know I don’t mind–”

“I do,” you insist as another pang runs up your hip, “I don’t have your metabolism… among other things.”

“But I love you just the way you are,” he insists and comes closer, taking your arm and making you face him, “all your extras.” He slips his hand down to squeeze your ass as he pulls you flush to him, “the little lines that crease around your mouth when you smile… or growl at me.”

“Peter,” you press against his chest, another reminder of his youth, and of your own age. “Please.”

“Mm, my little souffle,” he purrs as he rocks you with him, “you like to act so tough but we know you’re just as soft inside as your desserts.”

You look at him and force a smile as you hear the edge in his voice. Don’t push it. You run your hands over his shoulders and rub them gently, “you’re right. I just can’t help it…”

“You know you’re fucking gorgeous, kitten,” he turns you and pens you in against the island, “don’t I tell you everyday? Don’t I make you feel it?”

He rolls his hips, grinding his bulge against you. You can hardly keep up with him but you can’t tell him that. He doesn’t believe that because he can make you keep up. He can make you keep going until your weak and whimpering beneath his will.

“Of course, you do. baby–”

“Is this about him?” he snips suddenly.

“Him?” You take a breath as your lips tremble and threaten to fall.

“I took care of that. You know your ex isn’t shit. He didn’t know what he had,” he jiggles your ass as he leans in even closer, “you’re so fucking sexy, kitty.”

“Peter, let’s not talk about him, neither of us like that–”

“Damn right I don’t like it,” he sneers, “so why are you acting like I’m him? You know, I worship you…” he trails his hands around your hips and up your stomach, groping your chest and kneading with a hum, “mommy, I love all of you.”

You shiver as he presses a kiss to your cheek, his lips brushing down along your jaw as he squeezes your tits together. You close your eyes and tilt your head back as he ventures down your throat and nips at you. His touch falls back down your body and suddenly, your feet leave the floor, flailing out as he lifts you onto the counter.

“Kitty, I got something sweeter in mind,” he pushes your knees apart as the timer starts to beep, “can I have a taste?”

“The souffles…” you utter weakly.

“You can make more,” he pushes your skirt up eagerly, “mommy, I need some dessert.”

[magpie-to-the-morning]

Overstimulation Kink

RATING: Explicit (18+ ONLY)

Pairing: Ezra Prospect x Fem!Reader

Word count: 1.4k

Tags: Oops all filth, dirty talk, edging, begging, overstimulation, oral sex (female receiving)

Author’s Note: Thank you to @chaoticgeminate for sending in a Kinktober request for Ezra and overstimulation. This is my first time writing him so I hope I did our favorite space prospector some justice.

@keeper0fthestars My darlin’, thank you for helping me brainstorm pet names for this silver-tongued menace. I love you to the stars and back.

@acrossthesestars , my endlessly patient and supportive beta, thank you for holding my hand through this one. The knife is for you.

My Masterlist | Kinktober Masterlist

Sunlight streams down in glinting shafts through the quiet cathedral woods, bathing the two of you in languid, golden warmth. Ezra lays sprawled between your thighs, basking in the sun’s rays like a cat, seemingly content to nuzzle at you and press gentle kisses to your inner thighs until night falls. To anyone else, he would appear the very picture of selfless devotion.

Only you know him for the absolute bastard that he is.

He’s been at it for hours. Working you up to your peak only to pull back, leaving you whimpering on the very edge of bliss. And all the while, running that damn mouth of his to ensure your overheated mind and body are kept in delicious, torturous suspense.

Normally you appreciate his patience. It’s something people tend to underestimate about him. Hell, even you forget, sometimes, what a good listener he is; how still he can go, how patient. It’s a reminder that all those flowery words, all that bluster polished to a gunmetal sheen - for so long, they were his only form of company.

But now he’s wielding that silver tongue like a knife.

He’s kept up a relentless running monologue whenever his face wasn’t buried in your cunt, his honeyed words sliding over you until pleasure dripped down your spine to pool like liquid gold between your eager thighs. You were no slouch when it came to being vocal and Ezra chuckled at the stream of senseless filth pouring from your lips. “Now what a wicked thing you are. I consider myself truly blessed to have encountered a fellow talker in you, my gem.”

“Are you going to talk me to death out here? I don’t know how much more I can take.” You pleaded for mercy but somehow that wasn’t enough to convince him to end your suspense and finally, finally give you the release you've been craving.

“My darlin,’ I do humbly apologize for my part in your current… distress. But I find myself unable to release you just yet.”

“Ezra, please,” you beg, rocking your hips desperately against his chin.

“What is it that you require, my beloved?” His voice is thick, sweet innocence dripping like poisoned sugar from his tongue.

With a whimper, you grind against Ezra’s wicked mouth, whining high-pitched and reedy when he withdraws. “You know damn well what I need, Ez.”

“Well that is hardly fair. How can I be expected to suss out your desires without the benefit of your words?”

“Really? This isn’t enough of a hint?” Reaching between you, you cup his jawline and run a thumb through the wetness there, the bottom half of Ezra’s face slick with your juices.

He smirks and tilts his mouth just enough to nip at the fleshy mound at the base of your palm, the sharp sting of his teeth making you whine before he soothes you with a lazy swipe of his tongue.

“You know what I want to hear,” he prompts, all smug satisfaction and endless patience. “You’re so pretty when you beg.”

You narrow your eyes and consider your options. Ezra is just as pent up as you are after days spent on a crowded transport ship, the two of you barely able to steal enough privacy for kisses, let alone sex. He’s bluffing. He has to be.

But then… You have days of shore leave stretching out ahead of you before your next shared job. What if he is as relaxed as he looks? Would he really be content to laze in the sun and deny both of you the release you need?

Probably, you admit with a silent, inner groan. Ezra is deceptively patient, with a will as strong as steel beneath all that rakish charm. You’d be a fool to underestimate the depth of his resolve - and the mischievous glint in his eyes tells you he knows it, too.

Still, you’re not about to give in completely.

Fluttering your eyelashes at him, you give an exaggerated pout. “Please, oh please won’t you make me come? I need you so bad, baby - unless you want me to head back to the ship and find someone else to take care of me?”

Any resemblance to an indolent house cat vanishes as Ezra pins you with his gaze. Your heart kicks in your chest as you realize your mistake.

“Ez,” you stammer, sitting up on your elbows. “You know I would never - “

Your voice falters in the face of his thunderous scowl, the possessive, predatory gleam darkening his tawny eyes to deepest umber, bleeding almost to black.

“No,” he purrs, the deceptive softness in his voice making you shiver. “Because none of them can make you feel like this.”

With the unhurried grace of a jungle cat he lowers his head and licks a broad, slow stripe through your very center, rumbling in satisfaction when he feels you shudder. His past teasing forgotten, Ezra devours you like a man starved. His tongue flicks and curls and drags through your folds, tender kisses replaced by the urgent push and pull of his mouth. By the time he plunges two thick fingers into your aching center, you’re already bucking against his mouth, your first orgasm barreling through you.

The force of it is overwhelming. With a mewl, you jerk your hips, suddenly desperate to get his mouth off your throbbing, overly sensitive clit.

“Ezra,” you pant, head lolling as your vision clears. “That's too much. I need - “

“No.” Ezra’s denial is muffled against your cunt but his intent is plain. You’ve pushed him too far and now, now you’ll pay the price.

“You can tap out, gem,” Ezra rasps after your second climax shakes you down to your bones, the pad of his thumb working rough, ruthless circles against your swollen clit. “But unless you do, I am going to make you come so many times you forget your own name.”

Even through the haze of your tortured bliss, you hear the challenge in it, and you’ve never been one to back down from a fight.

“Do your worst,” you spit back at him in open, if slightly shaky, defiance. You know he’ll back off if you give him your safeword or, barring the power of speech, the wordless gesture the two of you agreed on ages ago, but where would the fun be in that?

“That’s my girl,” Ezra smirks before diving back to the task at hand.

Every time you think you’ve taken more than you can bear, Ezra insists on pushing you harder, driving you further. Each time you try to close your legs or squirm away from his greedy, relentless mouth he pushes your thighs wider and forces his tongue deeper until all you can do is cling to him for dear life while he wrenches blinding pleasure from you.

“Ezra, I can’t,” you whine after minutes, hours of this merciless treatment. This time you swear you mean it, though you don’t tap out, not yet. He’s pushed you far past the brink of what you thought you could endure but still he demands more. Even half crazed and over stimulated as you are, part of you still wonders what will happen when Ezra fully breaks you. Will there be nothing left but rubble, or do his miner’s instincts have him chasing some glittering seam only his clever, patient fingers can lay bare?

He doesn’t even lift his head this time, just holds up one finger in a silent command you have no choice but to obey.

One more, sweetheart, you can practically hear even as you whimper beneath his onslaught. Just give me one more.

And oh, you do. Your spine bows and suns burst behind your eyes as you come undone. The sweet pressure building inside you breaks like a dam bursting and you soak Ezra’s face, your own crumpling as your body surrenders completely to his. He drinks you down with a groan, his fingers working you down to the last shudder before finally pulling back. He presses a loving kiss to your thigh before pillowing his cheek on it, sighing into your caress as your stroke the sweat dampened ends of his hair with trembling fingers.

“There’s my gem,” he murmurs, all pride and easy affection now that he’s cracked you open like a geode to reveal the glorious, secret heart of you.

Little does he know that you’re about to return the favor.

At least, once you catch your breath.