#although knowing me i would just find another completely different thing to fuck around with instead

[thelooniemoonie]

executive dysfunction my fucking beloathed

[noellefan101]

Hello hello! I love reading your Streamer AU for the HSR cast, can I request you to do a part 2 for it hehe 🤩

You can pick whoever you like but can I request one of them to be Fu Xuan? The thought of her streaming is kinda funny HEJISEHWJSHEHEH

Also thank you so much!! You may refer to me as - - Anon 🏎️

ofc im so sorry that im a few months late though 😭

Char: Fu Xuan, Topaz, Aventurine the gambler, Blade x gn reader

warnings: ooc, not proofread, swearing, you are pretty :3

Summary: your princess(or partner if you wanna be boring) is a streamer, a popular one at that. this is a fic about: how their chat finds out that you are dating, how they treat you off-stream and on-stream/do they treat you differently

Fu Xuan

How chat found out: it should be pretty easy for anyone to find out if im going to be completely honest. as she is both a bragger and a complainer.

if you had done something, anything, that she didnt like or just thought was stupid, she was going to lovingly complain about it to her following. and yes, this also applies to everything and everything you accomplish.

so uhm, lets just say she also sees no reason to keep such things a secret unless you begged her to not mention your relationship(she would still end up talking abt it at some point).

but luckily her chatters are nice and like you. but they definitely how Fu Xuan pulled you, they do not see the vision of how she did that

On-Stream: she herself does not see any difference in how she treats you whether she is streaming or not. her viewers however, very much see a difference to when you are with her or not

"Fu Xuan seems nicer with [name] around", "Xuan's eyes seems to light up just a little whenever [name] is around", this was not known to her until her following started chatting about this online

her face was unusually red when she read a message about her being soft for you on stream

Off-Stream: she, kissed you more, maybe even more affectionate in general, since she just doesnt like her whole life being online and thinks its unhealthy and dumb.

she is also just way too into you for her to want to share you with the random people watching her on a tuesday afternoon.

Topaz

How chat found out: you forgot she was streaming and brought in a snack for her and numby

and you accidentally called her 'love' while walking in

oh she was so red, and it did not help that she was on a call with aventurine and he heard everything

On-Stream: honestly, couldn't care less about what her following thinks, although she does get embarrassed.

she will hug you she will kiss you.

she will do whatever she wants to do, but is extra shy when Jade is around and watching.

and despite what she say and does, if you ever kissed her infront of the camera she would combust and melt into a little puddle

while numby is just innocently eating her little meal beside you two

Off-Stream: doesnt let go of you unless she actually has to get up and do something without you

loves hugging you, and especially with numby cuddling up with you both

kisses you more and it feels like you're kissing for longer, but this is just your observations

Aventurine

How chat found out: are you kidding? you really dont know? he doesnt stop fucking talking about you

he's playing another gacha game? oh this character kind of looks like [name], i should totally get them

irl stream? he's getting distracted left and right because he saw something that you would like

just on a call with his friends? talking about how pretty you are left and right

he just doesnt stop, there was no way you weren't going to appear on camera at some point

On-Stream: kisses you a lot just for just existing

chat thought it was cute in the start but now its more like when does he stop omfg

hugs you a lot and makes you sit on his lap while he gambles, saying that you bring him more luck

will still not stop bragging about how amazing you are, even when you're just sitting next to him on your phone

Off-Stream: still does not shut up about you, and is still very affectionate

but he is a little more touchy when people arent watching, still wanting you for himself in one way or another

he likes showing you off, but he also values his private life when he isnt the popular streamer Aventurine, being watched by thousands of people

but with you, and only you? he is just Kakavasha

Blade

How chat found out: one word, Kafka.

this is the only possible way other than you yourself walking in to see him streaming and you happen to be on camera.

Kafka, Silver Wolf, and Firefly is the only reason his following knows that he even has a love life to begin with. they talk more about you than he does! betrayer!!

but seriously, Kafka loves to talk about you two to her own viewers as well, even getting Blade to correct her because you can bake, and is very good at it

On-Stream: he doesnt talk about you, this may seem concerning but i assure you he's just shy. if he talked about you on stream it was because they girls made him talk about you.

but he just likes his private life, alright? he also strictly told Kafka to not tell them anything bad about or her head will be on a platter

but no matter, you can go kiss him yourself if you want to, he cant do anything to you

or he will die mentally and hopefully physically

Off-Stream:

absolute bbg

will not let go of you at all, never ever

he's always touching in some way or form the whole day, but when he turns on the camera and starts streaming its like his personality turned around

the only thing remaining is how he longingly looks in your direction whenever you come in with some water

thank u for reading and thank you 🏎️ anon for requesting even tho this was long ago(im still very sorry abt that)- Masterlist

You are welcome to reblog and like any of my posts, but you CAN NOT translate, copy or hate on anybody for liking my posts

[noonswrites]

Muse

synopsis: Xavier just wants a picture of you so he can draw it. things don’t go according to plan…

warnings: blowjob, penetration, fingering

it was an accident really. a genuine, complete, accident. you just wanted to support your talented friend who had been begging you for a subject for his next painting.

“please! it doesn’t have to be a good photo of you, I just need one for reference” he says exaggeratedly as you make your way to class. his giant frame is never an inch away from yours if he can help it, and today is no different. he’s tugging on your arm like a lost puppy as he begs you to be his muse for the millionth time.

“oh, so you’re saying I take bad photos?” you reply snidely.

he grins widely, knowing your games too well by now “you know that’s not what i meant” and gives you a playful push.

“i’ll think about it xavier, but you should really find another victim”

“i believe the correct term is “muse” dork”

“keep calling me dork and see where that gets you” he puts his hands up, mimicking what he would look like “surrendering” to you.

Xavier wishes he could hide how excited he is to draw you again. He can’t wait to combine his two favorite things: you, and his obsession with art. what you don’t know is Xavier wants to take this opportunity to ask something he’s been too shy to say for years….

when the seemingly never ending school day is finally over, he walks you to your room. your hallmate left for the week, so it was just you and Xavier sprawled out on your bed. he sat at the foot of it, legs crossed while yours were draped over his lap.

he eagerly awaits you to send him a picture while you briskly scroll through your camera roll. you finally deem one appropriate for his next masterpiece, a selfie of the two of you. his arms wrapped around your neck while you’re giving him a jokingly disapproving look. at least, that’s what you think you’re sending him. Xavier however, receives a completely different image that you accidentally sent instead.

he quickly taps on the notification with his pencil ready, opening up a photo of your breasts on display. “o-oh my god”

“what?!” you exclaim, confused at his reaction.

“are you sure that’s what you want me to draw?” he says timidly.

“yeah, unless you have a problem with it i guess” it’s too late now, you’re absentmindedly scrolling through your phone.

Xavier tries to start drawing, he really does. truthfully, he started getting hard the minute he opened the photo and now he’s trying to get a grip on his pencil, which won’t stop shaking in his hand. you can feel his dick rising since your leg is still on his lap, causing you to look up.

this is when you notice he’s shaking. “Xavi, what’s wrong?”

Xavier can barely bear the nickname right now, combined with everything else he’s experiencing.

“i’m- i’m sorry. i don’t know if i can draw this” Xavier shows the phone to you and you turn a shade of red he doesn’t think he’s ever seen before.

“oh shit! oh fuck i’m so sorry oh my god fuck!” you cover your face with your hands.

Xavier, although nervous, tries his best to reassure you and puts a gentle hand on your leg. “it’s ok, i just didn’t think we were at that level, you know?”

you spread your fingers, peeking your eyes through “it’s fine, really” he gives a weak, bashful smile. a part of him kind of wishes you did send it on purpose, and it’s not like he hadn’t thought of his best friend naked before…

in a desperate attempt to change the subject you ask “does that hurt?” while staring at his now erect penis that creates a tent in his sweatpants.

“um- i- “

“i can help you with it if it does- i read somewhere that it hurts when you- you know-“ words are coming out of your mouth faster than your brain can process what’s happening now… “if not we can forget this ever happened and i won’t tell anyone- i promise” you’d probably regret saying that later, but right now, you can’t help it. you’ve had the biggest crush on xavier forever and if you’re being honest, you’re in a pretty similar aroused state right now.

“i don’t know… i don’t want to put you in an uncomfortable po-“

“i want to” you cut him off “i’ve wanted to for years Xavi” you’re crawling towards him now.

“do you want to?” you ask him, although the evidence is all over his face, he looks almost pained. his mouth is slightly agape and his eyes are focused on your lips. lips that he has thought of kissing for months now, but this time, he doesn’t resist the urge.

Xavier can’t hold it anymore, he takes your face in his hands and kisses you. it’s hesitant at first, both of you in shock that it’s finally happening. it takes seconds for it to get sloppy. you break apart only to climb on xavier’s lap, and you don’t miss the distressed look he wears as a result of moments apart from you. you’re quick to relieve him, sitting down with your thighs on either side of his hips, and both of you stifle a moan when your clothed cunt makes contact with his dick. now it’s your turn to grab his face and he loves every second of it, wanting nothing more than to fawn over you as you use him for your pleasure. you, however, won’t have that, stopping at nothing until he’s completely ruined.

you take his bottom lip between yours and suck on it, and Xavier swears he’s seeing stars. he starts getting messy as both of your lips are covered in each other’s spit and that alone is making him dizzy. he doesn’t even realize he’s begun to grind his hips upward trying to relieve himself in the friction you’re creating. you tell him to pull off his t-shirt and he does so immediately, and you do the same. he smoothes his hands up and down your waist as if you’re made of glass, looking you up and down with a mixture of reverence and desire. you almost want to laugh at him because you’d never imagine seeing your best friend like this, looking at you like he’d been starving for days and desperate to kiss you again, but you settle for giving him an amused smile.

“what is it?” he asks with the most precious look of confusion on his face.

“you’re so cute baby” his eyelashes flutter and he looks away, he shifts slightly while trying to pretend the new pet name doesn’t turn him on more. you can tell that he’s smiling too now, internally giddy.

you start to leave a trail of kisses down his neck, and he lets out a pleasure filled sigh. when you start to teasingly lick his abdomen he tenses up again, and you hear a soft “ah” escape his lips. you unbutton his pants and pull down his boxers and Xavier starts to tremble. he looks down at you with watery eyes and you take his dick in your hand. he lets out a hiss at your warmth.

you start to kiss his shaft and his brows furrow but his eye contact never wavers. if xavier could have this moment tattooed on his brain, he would. when you take his head in your mouth and suck he jolts, unable to control his movements at this point. you slowly take more of him into your mouth and hollow your cheeks. you start to stroke xavier’s leg with your free hand and xavier’s gaze softens at the tender gesture.

you slowly take him deeper into your mouth, astonished that you’ve made it this far without choking. “fuck” he cries as you fit all of him in your mouth. you start a slow rhythm of sliding your lips up and down his shaft and xavier lies back, helpless to your actions. you can feel how tense the muscles in his stomach and legs are, doing his best to hold back his impending orgasm. as you speed up, xavier begins to babble uncontrollably, a mixture of “you feel so good”, “you’re so pretty, fuck!”, and so on. you fondle his balls and he’s almost sent over the edge, but you pull yourself off of him just in time.

he stares at you, dazed “did i do something wrong?” god, you’d do anything for those puppy dog eyes.

“no baby, just wanted you to come inside me, is that alright?” xavier wants to pinch himself.

“y-yeah” he leans in for another clumsy kiss, drunk on the feeling of being so close to you. it’s full of tongue and lips crashing together, but quickly ends with a gasp as you guide his cock to your pussy.

xavier watches himself enter you in a trance, completely mesmerized at your facial expression and the stretch of your cunt. when your fully seated, a tear falls down his cheek. you admit, you may have overstimulated him a bit. you wipe it away with your thumb and apologize. “i’m sorry for making you wait my love” he doesn’t seem to care at this point.

Xavier reaches his arms around your waist and pulls you in closer, causing you to moan at the adjustment “you’re s-so warm” he lets out.

“can i take this off?” he says as a hand slides over the clasp of your bra.

“yeah” you reply, and he begins to fiddle with the hook. he slides it off of your shoulders.

“so, do you think i’m a catfish?” you inquire. he lets out a wholesome laugh and you follow suit. Xavier gently pushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear and places his palm on your cheek.

“i think you’re the opposite of a catfish” you blush and attempt to turn your head away, but he pulls you in for another kiss. he moves to kiss the corner of your lips, then your chin, your jaw, and finally stops at your neck. he nibbles your jugular and then sucks, and your hips buck forward as he finds your sensitive spot. Xavier moans and you take this as a sign to keep moving.

you grind down on him and Xavier does his best to mentally prepare himself for the onslaught of pleasure. he’s already about to cum, holding on just so he can get you to try to finish first. he slides his hands down to your ass pushing you down on his cock while he pushes his hips up, effectively guiding himself deeper than you thought possible. you yelp and Xavier watches your features contort, repeating the action so he can listen to you moan again and again. he shifts one of his hands close to your cunt and guides a thumb to your clit, rubbing it in circles, prompting you to jolt and start bouncing on his cock more eagerly than before.

“shit- shit- fuck!” Xavier doesn’t know what he’s saying anymore, he only knows that he’s been close to cumming for more than an hour now, and he’s about to burst. you wrap your arms around his neck for stability and pick up your pace.

“oh my god” he whines and his grip on your hips tightens. you realize how close he is, so you stop your movement.

“no- no! i need it please” his head falls into your neck and you stroke his back.

“i know my love, i just need you to ask for it nicely okay?” he lifts his head and you coo at his tear stained cheeks. “do you think you can do that for me?”

“y-yeah” you start to move again immediately, not wanting to prolong his suffering any further. Xavier cant stop himself from thrusting into you, and you let him, enjoying the look in his eyes as he starts to fall apart.

“are you gonna cum soon baby?” you ask after a particularly hard thrust.

“y- yes please- please can i c-cum?” Xavier is shaking uncontrollably now, his movements are sloppy and uncoordinated.

“yes my love” you smile “but you can’t take your pretty eyes off of me okay? i want to see you” Xavier is blushing harder than ever, he’d never admit that’s what sent him over the edge. he does his best to keep his eyes on yours, his mouth open and letting out angelic moans while his nails dig into your hips. he thinks your the most beautiful person alive as you keep up your pace grinding on his cock. his brows furrow and fresh tears arise as you continue to speed up, a look of tortured confusion mixed with euphoria on his face.

“i- i can’t please!” he wails. you finally cease your movement, panting. xavier pulls you into a tight hug, kissing your sweaty body in any place he can reach.

“thank you, thank you, thank you” he repeats between kisses. you flop down onto your mattress, and xavier hovers over you, smothering your face with kisses.

“baby, i want to make you cum now. can i? please? need to watch you cum” he babbles.

“you don’t have to Xavi, but yes” you’re still catching your breath.

“i want to” and without hesitation he slides his fingers to to your sopping cunt. “so wet… such a pretty pussy” you bury your face in the pillow.

“no need to be shy my love…” his thumb rubs over your clit and your thighs clench. he pushes them open gently, eyes fixated on your pulsing cunt. he slides two fingers in, feeling his own cum inside of you and trying his best not to get hard at the sensation. he curls his fingers upward and your hips shift at the sensitivity. he holds them down with his free arm and continues his ministrations. he probes for your most delicate spot and knows he’s found it when you squeeze his arm and whimper. you lift your head again and he meets your eyes, staring at you as he quickens his pace. you’re already worked up so it doesn’t take much after that, but what sets you over the edge is his decision to take your clit into his mouth and kiss it sloppily. your legs shake and kick and he happily continues to thrust his fingers as you ride out your orgasm, grinding down on them.

now you’re truly exhausted, and Xavier curls up next to you as you continue to catch your breath. “y’know, i was going to use the painting as a way to ask you out…” you perk up at this.

“really?!” xavier beams at you.

“yeah” you pull him into a kiss and he doesn’t stop smiling.

[joonieskinks]

drabble: “royally forbidden”

princess!reader x knight!yoongi drabble | s, f | 1k

warnings: swearing, segs, referring to virginity construct, lots of kissingg and touchinggg

a/n: idk why but I love my forbidden love tropes apparently- 👑

“Princess”, Yoongi warns. “What if we get caught?” You cut him off with your lips on his before he can press further. You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing your love in closer to you. His arms that rested on your waist, now actively bunching up your night dress to get underneath. 

“Then so be it, I’m tired of having to hide who I love.” You kiss his lips again once, only separating from him to look into those beautiful eyes. The eyes of the man you fell in love with all those years ago as a girl. He was always there for you, at your beck and call, whenever you needed him. 

Need help to get on your horse cause you’re too short? Done.

Fetching you a towel for after your bath when you’ve “forgotten” one? Sure.

Assistance with getting your dress’ buttons undone from behind? Happily.

Asking him to take your virginity before your arranged husband-to-be can? Oh, wow- but yes, definitely yes. 

You were raised together, albeit different upbringings and purposes in life, but he was always by your side. Of course you appreciated his help with the many things in your life when your servants weren’t around (or more likely, you wanted to flirt with him), but as you got to know him, you fell in love with the real Yoongi. Your literal knight in shining armour. 

Well, that is until the doors were closed, locked and the sun was down. Then he was more like your knight out of his armour and into your bed. 

Yoongi tugs your dress up and over your head, leaving you completely bare before him. Despite being with you for years and now seeing you naked for months, he still feels just as painfully strained against his pants as the first time. Truly, he feels like the luckiest man in your kingdom. 

“If your mother sees us, she’ll hang me for sure.” Yoongi kisses your neck as his hands begin to untie his pants. Your hands find their way under his nightshirt, silently begging him to take it off as well. He rolls his eyes as he can almost hear your pleading whimpers, taking off his shirt and discarding it across your locked room. 

You giggle in victory, touching his chest and relishing the feeling of his exposed skin. Yoongi only smirks, watching you gasp as he picks you up from under your thighs and whisks you over to your bed. He lays you gently down and places himself between your thighs. You moan at the sight, you loved seeing him in a position of power over you. Despite being a knight, he was born to be a king in your eyes. He would be your king, if you had it your way anyway. 

“Surely not, my father will stop her. He’s always had a soft spot for you.” You tease, hands reaching down and playing with the strings of his pants. Yoongi takes the hint once again and releases the strings so his pants fall to the ground. Finally, you're both utterly free of any material that could stop you from having each other. 

Although not exactly free from social restraints, such as you finding a proper prince to be your husband- but that hasn’t stopped you. You already found your love, and you plan to always have him. Royal or not, you’ve made your choice, and you're willing to be forsaken for it despite your royal parents declaring otherwise.

For Yoongi? Anything.

“You’re being very naughty, my princess.” Yoongi teases, lowering himself to kiss you, humming into your mouth, full of content. You’ve been teasing him all day.

“Fucking your knight, and not your prince-to-be...” He mutters, and grasps your body close to his, one arm around your waist and another up by your cheek. You know he feels possessive towards you, and you would feel the same. If his mother and father wanted him to marry another woman, you’d feel the exact same, if not worse. And so, this is how you show him you’re all his. 

“Take me, Yoongi, please. I’m not going anywhere, I’ll only ever be yours. You know that.” You reassure him, kissing up his jaw and back to his lips. You feel his length poking at your core and the tip brushing between your wet folds. Moaning, you push your hips against his to try and get more friction. 

Without a second more to lose, Yoongi pushes himself into you and your hands are grasping at his back, overwhelmed by his size once again. 

“You’re mine, princess. No matter who or what comes.”

//

[jakeyt]

Covet: Chapter 8 (Part 2.2 of 2)

PART 1 OF PART 2

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Covet Summary:

Life was good. No, life was great. 

Was. 

Until.

Jake Kiszka crashed into the picture.

You welcomed him into your life—your home. 

Yes, he was your best friend’s twin. But, he was also the one who would end up disrupting your whole world with his attitude, his troubles, and the annoyingly natural way he lured you in. 

Jake Kiszka came with so much you really didn’t want.

At least that’s what you tried to convince yourself.

Warnings: MINORS DNI (18+); smut (!!); angst; substance use (marijuana); unprotected sex (p in v); CONSENSUAL sex (p in v) under the influence of marijuana; jealousy; negative self-talk; oral sex (f! receiving); anxiety; intense feelings of sadness; abandonment issues (as usual, PLEASE lmk if i missed anything that is triggering to you!)

Chapter Word Count: 21.3k (i’m very very sorry)

a/n: CLIMAX TIME! woooo!! i’m sorry for another mf 2 parter… thanks to tumblr’s fucking paragraph limit (*screams*)🫠. the entire chapter is 43k words long (didn’t mean to do that—sorry 🥲), so this is almost exactly half of it. BUT, never fear, I will be posting part 2 to this tomorrow, as it is COMPLETE and ready to go… but we’ve gotta keep up the anticipation, right? lol <3

please heed the warnings. there is some sex under the influence in this chap, and although it’s COMPLETELY CONSENSUAL, I know some may not like that (we are all different and that’s ok!).

HUGE thank u to my girls @joshym & @alwaysonthemend for putting up w me all the mf time and being dope ass beta readers and friends and agghhh... you two are the realest aaaand ilysm 😭

one more thank u to @welightthefire for being the most beautiful, incredible source for an upcoming situation in reader’s life. ily <333

Please enjoy the playlist as you read 🖤

enjoy!

-🌼🌼🌼-

August 17, 2022

You did your best to ignore the vibrating phone in your back pocket. 

Text after text kept coming in, begging you to check.

You knew who it was. With the way you heard every other brother’s voice except for his from the living room (or kitchen, wherever they were) and how desperate he’d been for you to not find out. 

But, instead of giving in, you just stared at yourself in the mirror, willing the ridiculous tears pooling in your eyes to stay at bay. It would be pointless to start fucking crying. There would be zero sense in crying over this. There was no relationship to fall apart after finding out about this. 

You hadn’t been cheated on.

So why did it feel like you had?

Because you’re a fuckass with your emotions, y/n, the lovely voice in your head told you. You need to learn how to be a stable adult before anything else. Things need to end. None of this is fair to Jake or his budding career, either. Do better.

Fuck. You didn’t want to end things with him. 

But you knew it was right to get out of it before you became any more entangled. You knew going in, that what you had wasn’t meant to last anyway. Being with Jake–fucking him–it was just a temporary thing. 

It wasn’t going anywhere. This was a short season. A blip in time. An indulgence. 

Nothing more. 

But it fucking hurt to be honest with yourself about that. 

Fuck. Stupid.

Jake had done a fantastic job at maintaining the agreement. All he’d done was be a good friend– someone to fuck around with. That was all he was and all he’d done for you. He had not broken any boundaries or any of your ridiculous rules.

The one who had let all of that fall to the wayside had been you. 

So you didn’t want to look at the texts. Didn’t want to see him apologizing for something that he didn’t have to explain himself out of. 

As tears ended up falling down your cheeks (because no matter how hard you tried to get them to stop, there was no stopping them), you realized that you were the only one to blame for the way you were feeling. You’d let him become your safe place. Your anchor. The person you longed to be around (and with) most. . . 

You realized that, most of all, you were angry. Angry with yourself. It would be stupid to be upset with him. He’d done nothing wrong.

If he was fucking her, that wasn’t any of your business. Like you kept reminding yourself, there was no relationship, and he was allowed to do whatever he wanted with other women. And it was definitely not his responsibility to explain anything – make you feel better for something that was your own fault.

You’d let yourself get too attached. Plain and simple. 

It wasn’t Jake’s fault that you’d put your guard down enough to feel so jarred and shocked by this revelation. This was on you. And you weren’t sure if you should apologize to him or just start separating yourself from the situation.

Start separating yourself from him. 

And fuck, there were the tears again.

You got some toilet paper to wipe your face, and took deep breaths. As you were measuring your breaths, you cleaned up the mascara that’d made a mess under your eyes. 

When you had these stupid crying fits, if you could find the strength to do it, it'd always helped you to focus on something that brought you pure joy. But, unfortunately, you’d put yourself in a bit of a hard place at the moment. 

Because the thing—the person—who brought you the most joy in your life currently was the same one you were crying over. 

The only other thing you could think of was your cat. 

Stevie. Who’d, thankfully, followed you into the bathroom, trotting behind you as she’d probably sensed that you needed her. She was a damn smart cat. 

So, you sat on the edge of the tub to pet her where she sat on the toilet seat. You were super fucking grateful for the little fluff ball. Her icy blue eyes found your crying ones, so she leaned her head in your direction, signaling for you to pet her. Then, she started purring, which brought the sort of serene calm that only a cat’s purr could. The vibration from her body to yours was bringing you back down to earth, reassuring you.

Then, as you were petting her, you felt your stomach pinch and twist in a way that usually signaled your least favorite, bloody aunt. 

Of course.

As you sat to pee and assess the cramps, you thought about it all, glancing at Stevie’s sweet face as she now sat across from you on the ground, licking at her paws. Things would be okay. They would. This situation with Jake wasn’t as serious as you were making it out to be.

Right?

You just weren’t fucking ready for the way it was undoubtedly going to hurt first, in order to be okay in the end.

After peeing, you lifted the toilet paper to see if you were truly that unlucky. And, you were met with what you already knew to be true: you were on your motherfucking period. 

Your life was going just great.

-🌼🌼🌼-

You’d thought it best to head to bed early, claiming that your terrible cramping stomach was causing you pain. (It was true– your period was good for something, at least. . . get you out of the room that had been suffocating you all night.)

All of the boys had seemed a little down about you leaving so soon, but you just bid them all goodnight and blew kisses in all of their directions. You were trying very hard to just act like your normal self. It was time to come back to fucking earth.

You had purposefully ignored Jake. You hadn’t looked at him at all after coming out of the bathroom, and your pocket buzzed with texts a couple times. But you kept it hidden in your back pocket.

When you’d gotten to your bedroom, you’d taken a Midol, willing the cramps to stay at bay. And when they started fading, you decided to try to sleep.

But all you did was lay there, staring at the ceiling.  

You could hear the boys talking in the living room. All about their upcoming festival that coming weekend. You were longing to be out there with them, but you just let yourself lay in your bed and listen to the little pieces of what you could hear through the door.

A lot of talking from the three that didn’t live with you occurred (well, mostly Sam and Josh), but Jake stayed oddly quiet. He was always one to jump in on music talk— especially if it had to do with the music he was making.

Every now and then you’d hear his input, but it happened very little.

You’d almost fallen asleep when you heard two hushed, familiar voices talking outside of the bathroom, which sat right next to your bedroom door. Through the blurriness of your opening eyes, you looked at the door through which you heard them.

It was Josh’s you heard first. 

“What is going on?” 

Then, Jake.

“What do you mean?”

A little huff-growl came from the charismatic mouth of the curly-headed twin. “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me, Jacob.”

When you heard Josh’s little growl through the thick wood of the door, it was a little funny. He was always so fucking dramatic, and you loved that about him. But it was simultaneously why you were scared as hell for him to ever find out about you and Jake. So, through the door, you willed Jake to play it cool. 

Quit wearing your emotions on your fucking sleeve, Jake, you thought, annoyed. There’s literally no reason for you to be upset. 

“I’m not,” Jake persisted, his voice stern enough to convince someone who wasn’t you (or his twin). “I’m just worn the fuck out.”

The last part sounded real, though. You could sense the slight weariness in his tone. Were you wearing him out?

“Is it Maya?” Josh questioned. “You got all up in arms when Sam brought her up. Are you still seeing her? I was honestly convinced you weren’t.”

Huh? Surely Josh would know if Jake was still fucking her. . . And if he didn’t know, surely it wasn’t happening. . .

The hope that momentarily rose in your chest was embarrassing. 

Because, just as soon as it was there, you were reality-checking yourself.

Josh also had no clue about the two of you, so. . .

Maybe Jake was just doing a stellar job at blocking some of the telepathic wavelength they normally shared. Fuck if you knew. 

“I guess you could say part of it is her,” Jake responded. “Saw her the other day, you know.” 

“Oh?” Josh wondered. “I thought you couldn’t date clients.”

“We’re not dating.”

“You’re involved.”

“I guess,” Jake said, relenting. 

Fuck.

“What do you mean you guess?” Josh challenged. “Are you or aren’t you?”

“It’s more complicated than that, Josh.”

Complicated? Goddammit. How had you been so oblivious to him being in a complicated arrangement with another woman?

“No it’s fucking not.”

“Yes it is,” your roommate insisted. 

And there he was, getting sensitive in reference to this woman, yet again.

“Jesus fuck,” Josh exasperated. “Whatever it is, you need to pull your shit together. Get it figured out because it’s clearly a touchy subject. And you and I both know now is not the time to get all up in arms with Sam about something like this.”

“I know,” Jake conceded. You envisioned him nudging at his nose with his pointer finger, shaking his head to himself. You’d spent so much time recently watching his reactions to things. . . you were becoming a pro at his mannerisms (when you definitely shouldn’t be).

“Now is not the time to be getting involved with anyone— especially if it’s just a quick fuck,” Josh emphasized the last part. Your heart lodged in your throat. “You know better, Jake. And you know that now is the time to focus on yourself rather than a woman– focusing on anything besides this monumental time in your life could hurt you.”

“Monumental,” Jake scoffed. “It’s just a festival.”

“You know it’s not. God, this is what I mean!” Josh said, his voice raising a bit. When he spoke again, he was back to using a muzzled tone again. “Quit acting like that. You’ve waited your whole life for this.”

“Josh, I really don’t want to talk about this.”

“You don’t want another Amelia situation— where you become so obsessed with a woman that you move to Illi-fuckin’-nois, put yourself on the fucking back burner, and give up on the thing you love the most. Because when you do that to yourself, you do it to all of us, too.” 

Amelia? There was no question to who Josh was describing. Putting a name to his ex girlfriend was strange, to say the least. By hearing her name, she seemed more than just a figment of history. Giving her a name made her that much more real – and it made everything else feel so much more real along with it.

The reality of your situation. And you’d be damned if you were the reason he gave up his fucking dream again–you’d known it was a possibility for him to do the same with you as he’d done with her. And Josh saying all of this made you feel completely validated in all of your original fears. 

You refused to be the one that ruined everything for them– for him. 

And to be viewed in such a negative light as Amelia was to Josh. . . that fucking terrified you, too.

“How dare you fucking bring her up? This is not the same fucking thing. You know that, Josh.”

“Are you sure? Because based on how you acted when Maya was brought up, I wouldn’t be so sure.” Josh scoffed. His voice softened when he added, “Can you just fucking look out for yourself—just a little bit?” He pleaded, his voice breaking a bit. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt again. Fuck, Jake. I would just really appreciate it if you cared about yourself the way you deserve–.”

You heard another snicker from Jake. 

“Stop it,” Josh sternly stated. You heard a muffled ‘ow’ from Jake. Had Josh hit him or something? Damn. “I’m tired of being the only one to care about your happiness, Jacob. You know I will continue to be here for you–always, but I need you to take this time in your career seriously. Don’t let an unstable relationship get in the way.”

In that moment, you knew that where you’d stood since the beginning in believing how important Jake’s career was had not been in vain. It was his dream—his career. . . His livelihood. It was also completely apparent that you had been correct in knowing how Josh would feel about an arrangement like the one you and his brother had going on.

The entire thing had been a foolish, selfish idea. . . 

You could slap yourself for giving into the temptation. 

Eventually, the conversation between the twins faded out. A couple of slightly dismissive “okays” from Jake and “I love yous” exchanged between the two. 

Then, you were met with the noise from the living room again. Planning, planning, planning from the four men. . .

And you were stuck in the still, quiet darkness of your room, making a plan of your own as the moon highlighted your covers and Stevie’s body curled in a peaceful, sleeping state.

Oh, how you envied your cat and her obliviousness to the stark, upsetting reality of life.

The entire interaction outside your bedroom between your best friend and the man you’d centered your life around as of late. . . 

It sealed what you knew you had to do.

-🌼🌼🌼-

August 19, 2022

You were deeply regretting being at this fucking music festival.

The busyness of everything around you was making you feel like a little bug— with fluttering wings that were about to get stomped. Ironically, your body was buzzing like an insect— from the inside out.

Your old friend, Anxiety, was along with you for the ride. Also Elsie.

And your cramps.

Thankfully, you’d waited to come until later in the day. The boys had been there all day, but you’d chosen to not go when they did, and instead wait for Elsie’s plane to get in at the airport so you could get ready, then arrive together. You were slightly shocked that she showed up on a sort of whim. But she’d been insistent on being at the festival to support Josh and witness this “big step” in his career. 

They weren’t performing until early evening anyway, so it would’ve been pointless to stand around while they busied themselves doing whatever the bands were supposed to do beforehand.

By the time the two of you had fixed yourselves up to attend and found your reserved place on the lawn, it was very nearly packed full. The security was, thankfully, super kind in accepting your VIP badges, so your anxiety didn’t flare up as bad as it could have as you made your way to the spot at the front. And having Elsie there helped a ton. 

But, combined with the mass amount of sweaty bodies and non-stop chatter and drunk singing and dancing around you, you felt your skin crawl, and as if you were about to combust from the inside out. These crowded places were not your forte, but you couldn’t pass up being at these shows. 

Elsie was right– this was a big step.

And Josh had been right when he’d told Jake it was monumental.

You’d seen the lineup. You knew who’d be performing at this festival– band names that any random person on the street would know. Not Metallica-type bands. . .not yet. But popular groups nonetheless.

Jake’s dream was coming true, and you had to be there to witness this. To experience it alongside him. While you could.

But, as you looked to your left, on the left wing of the stage, you saw them.

Her.

Her beautiful, bronzed skin on display in her black dress. Her perfectly shaped hourglass figure being complimented by the short length, and the deep V at the neckline. 

No VIP badge like yourself, but she was backstage with him. Did she arrive with him? They were talking animatedly, her hand naturally resting on his arm when she’d say something. Her boisterous laughter every time he would say something. (He is most definitely not that funny. Fucking tryhard.) Even as he tuned his guitar, she stood there. And without fail, he would glance up every now and then to add something. . . or to simply smile at her. 

It made your stomach lurch. You felt like you were going to be sick. 

And, of course, Elsie caught on. Her observatory brain catches everything.

You hadn’t seen her watching them with you, her eyes darting back and forth between you and them as you were stuck in your watchful trance. But you knew, as soon as she grabbed your tricep that she’d been tuned in to your reaction at the entire display.

“Who’s the new fling?” Elsie’s joking voice pulled you from where your stare had been placed for the last several minutes. 

Suddenly, you felt extremely on edge and defensive. Anger heated your blood to a boiling temperature.

“It’s none of our business, Elsie,” you snapped.

“Oookay,” Elsie scoffed, flipping her natural curls back behind her shoulder. She crossed her arms. “You can’t pull that shit on me. I saw you fucking watching them– making it your business. Just answer the question.”

“Bold of you to assume I even know her name,” you rolled your eyes, playing it off the best you could. 

The way she leveled you with her eyes reminded you how stupid it was to attempt hiding anything from your older sister. (Again, her observatory mind misses nothing. Even when you wish it would at times.)

You sighed, pushing a hand through your hair to wave it away from your face. Sweat was accumulating on your forehead, right at your hairline. You felt gross. “Her name is Maya.”

“Hmmm,” she hummed, squinting as she tapped her chin. “Maya. . . okay. How long?”

“Apparently since he moved here,” you replied, trying to keep the emotion from your tone. 

She gave you a look that said she knew better, but didn’t give you a hard time. (Praise God.)

“Wow,” she blew out a long breath through her lips, the color of mulled wine. “And then he fucked you midway through fucking her?”

You flinched at the wording. “Damn, crass much?”

“Shut the fuck up,” she retorted. “You talk the same exact way as me, bitch.”

“Whatever,” you said, annoyed by her, but comforted by the familiar banter. You missed her being around. . . so much. “And yes, the timeline seems to allude to that.”

“Does that upset you?”

You were glad she had the decency to pose the question. . . even though you knew she wanted to outrightly state what she already knew to be true.

“No,” you derided. “It’s just his classic asshole behavior,” the words felt wrong coming from your mouth. You knew he wasn’t an asshole. Moments in time, of him talking to you, comforting you flickered through your mind like a reel. You tried your best to cover it with another dismissive (yet truthful) response. “And, we’re not together now and we weren’t together then. He’s had every right to fuck whomever he pleased.”

“Mhm,” she grinned, still narrowing her eyes at you. But, she played along, her blue eyes catching sight of something behind you for a few seconds. “Well, however you’re feeling— I can tell you right now that he still thinks you're fine as hell.”

It was your turn to scoff, pursing your lips, painted in the same lipstick as hers. “What encouraged you to say something so asinine?”

“Not asinine,” she snarked, looking over your shoulder to the left wing again. “I’m literally currently observing this man devouring you with his eyes.”

Your skin heated, but you didn’t want to turn around. At the present moment, you didn’t know how to feel about him looking at you that way. Did you want that? Yes. Should you want that? Absolutely not.  Especially after you’d found out what had been happening behind your back for the entirety of your escapade– shit. No. Not behind your back. He hadn’t been keeping the fling a secret. He simply didn’t need to make you privy to it. There was no reason. 

In the back of your mind, you heard your obnoxious voice stating your rules for him (and now reminding yourself what had been set in place). 

“No questions or comments about dates the other one may have. It’s not our business.”

The last four words were ringing in your head, whether you wanted them to or not. Still, it made your heart sink to think that he was looking at you and Maya the same way. . .

Fuck. Don’t. Cry.

“Sis?” Elsie’s attentive voice yet again brought you out of your funk. “Talk to me.”

Your sad eyes were impossible to hide. It was getting harder and harder to fake in front of her. But still, you shook your head and mouthed a ‘no’ while also sniffling to dry up the tears.

“Okay,” she soothed, conceding for the time being. “But I’m not going to lie to you and tell you he’s not looking right at you. He hasn’t stopped fucking staring for the last several minutes.”

Truly not able to help it, you glanced over your shoulder to where you’d seen him before.

And she was completely correct. You felt the way his eyes burned against your skin, enveloping every piece of skin he could get his eyes on. 

Admittedly, there was plenty of skin for him to gape at. 

What you’d chosen to wear was pretty hot. A couple weeks ago, you’d ordered a few pieces online for the festival. Funnily enough, Jake had even given his input on some of it as you’d been leaning against him on the couch as you placed the order.

“You’re going to look so fucking sexy,” he had said. 

Those words are like a broken record playing over and over in your mind as you position yourself just so, popping your hip a bit in a way that makes your ass look really good. (If he was going to stare, why not make a little show of it?) It was a white piece that he had ultimately helped you decide on. 

(White was honestly an extremely risky move considering your current, fucking crampy situation.)

You hadn’t planned well according to your stupid ass cycle. Going off of your birth control, months prior, had thrown you ridiculously off track of your cycles.

Nevertheless, this (tiny) outfit was what you wanted to wear– what you’d gotten specifically for this occasion. So you were going to wear it, dammit. Knowing that festivals called for outfits on the more daring side, you’d gone all out in wearing as little as you possibly could.

The shirt was almost a halter top, but completely opened around your back and in the front. The only thing keeping your round breasts from being completely exposed, two pieces of fabric, connected at the neck. Although, your cleavage left little to the imagination. 

A delicate white corded rope wrapped around your body connecting the only two pieces of material that made up the entirety of the top. So, your chest was covered, but very nearly bare, nonetheless. 

Taking advantage of the exposed skin of your tummy, you opted to add a circle of sparkling rhinestones around your belly button. A little something special you planned a while ago that you hadn’t told Jake about, leaving it to be a sexy little surprise for him. 

The wrapped skirt, low-waisted and very short, made it easy to showcase the body jewelry Jake had specially picked out for you. 

You’d asked if he had any requests for the outfit since it was his event. And his only request had been to incorporate a little bit of body jewelry.

“To highlight this beautiful, magical body,” he’d said, reaching a hand around you to reach under your t-shirt. He’d traced a finger from your sternum, then below your breasts, and all the way to cross your tummy and hips. “I wanna see you sparkle underneath that bright sun.”

“And if it rains?” You’d turned, raising your brow and nudging his nose with your own.

He’d played along, and then gave the tip of yours a light peck. “You’ll still sparkle,” he’d smiled, making you feel so warm and cozy . . .

So, here you were, wearing the gold, belt-like chains that twinkled in the summer sun. 

There was one delicate chain that started as a dainty necklace at your throat, and trailed between your breasts, which accumulated in more pieces at your waist. The suns dangling from one piece added to the summertime vibe, and the other sparkly chains glistened against your skin. You’d even sprayed some sparkly body spray to add to the color of your sun-kissed, golden hue. Your makeup, lighter around the eyes, only some sparkly shadow and a slight wing to accompany your long, mascara-coated lashes. Hair in loose curls.

You’d wanted to look good for him.

And your ego was elevated by giving you his attention at the moment— even though Maya was standing there, right next to him. Albeit, she was busy talking to someone hidden behind the curtain, but his gaze was planted firmly on you. She could look up at any moment and see it. He wasn’t trying to hide the way he’d fixed his eyes on you. 

Even from where you stood, looking at him, halfway turned around. . . you could see how dark his eyes were, studying every last bit of you. You’d gotten used to seeing them darken like that. . . You were familiar with the way he was looking at you. His lids were drooping over his eyes, which raked deliciously from your white heeled boots, all the way up to where your own eyes were still watching him.

When your gazes intertwined, you felt your cheeks flare pink. Your breath caught in your throat at how he was intently poring over you. Your stomach tied in knots and your panties got wet when he bit his lip, winked at you, and subtly adjusted himself behind his guitar. 

Fuck, Jake, you licked your lips, biting your lower one softly. 

He looked hot as hell. His long, chestnut locks, flowing perfectly around his face with the occasional breeze. His black shirt, completely unbuttoned, showing you so much of his immaculate, golden chest and abdomen. Your eyes lingered on that solid abdomen— the same one that pushed just right, against you, as he would lay over you, fucking you with all he had. And his black jeans, tight against his glorious thighs.

When you saw him reach in his back pocket for his iPhone, he didn’t drag his lusty stare away until the very last second. Until he had to. Almost instantly, you felt your clear, festival-approved bag buzz against your hip. 

It was definitely embarrassing how quickly you snapped it open and looked at the text awaiting you on the screen. 

I really should turn the previews off, you thought absentmindedly, promising yourself you’d get that done soon, so as not to get caught exchanging these texts with him.

Little bit late for that, the stupid voice in your head shoved itself into your moment. It won’t even matter soon. 

But you pushed that critical voice the hell away. Just for now. 

When you opened your thread of texts, you avoided the texts from previous nights, still not wanting to read where he’d checked in on you. It was pointless to do so. And what awaited you below them was much better anyway.

Jake, 5:45 p.m.: I am rock fucking hard for you right now

Dammit.

Jake, 5:45 p.m.: how am I supposed to concentrate when you look like that in the crowd?

How am I supposed to make it through an entire performance of yours, so close to the stage? Watch you fuck your guitar and wish it was me. . .

Jake, 5:46 p.m.: One wrong move and those tits are out

Jake, 5:46 p.m.: goddamn. I need to bend you over

Fuck, Jake. Quit it. 

You squeezed your legs together, crossing them to alleviate the way you were throbbing.

Jake, 5:47 p.m.: I can’t wait to get you the fuck home after this thing is over

You squeezed your eyes shut, thinking of every bad, horrible, terrible thing you could. And when you opened them, you let out a breath you’d been holding in. But the pulsing happening in your underwear was still making you feel hot, sweating from more than the evening sun.

But when you glanced back up, he was gone. 

Half of you didn’t want to text him back, afraid he’d gone off with Maya to relieve himself. Though, to your relief, your eyes found her, still standing there, talking to a crew member. 

She hadn’t gone with him. . .

You tried texting him, reminding him of the sad, current truth of your body. 

You, 5:48 p.m.: I’m on my period, Jake. Lol. You know this.

Jake, 5:49 p.m.: I know. I haven’t stopped thinking about it, actually. 

Jake, 5:49 p.m.: I want you so fucking bad

Jake, 5:49 p.m.: do you want it?

Fuck. What did you say to that? You’d never had a guy want sex with you during your period. . . And the fact that he wanted it? Was willing to do it? That was fucking hot.

But you were conflicted since your period was your one way of staying abstinent from him. . . Fuck. You’d forced yourself to deny him because you were on your period. You’d even told him you were in hopes that he would be too grossed out to tempt you. But he wasn’t grossed out. He wanted you, still. . . And you needed him. . . so bad. . .

What would the harm be in just giving in to it tonight? Maybe attempting to have sex and forcing yourself to eliminate feelings while doing so would be helpful. . . a way to sort of ween yourself off of sex. (Fucking ridiculous, huh?) You decided you’d take time to think about it. Let the show play through first. 

It was completely against what you knew you should be doing: breaking all things off. 

You, 5:51 p.m.: How about we talk after the show?

You’d waited for him to respond, but he never did. It would have normally worried you, but you gave him the benefit of the doubt. He was at a music festival. Chances were, he was busy. They were also set to perform at six. You knew that much. And, right at 6:00, you were proven correct as you heard the beginning of screams and the beating of a bass drum. Before you looked up, you sent one more text.

You, 6:01 p.m.: Break a leg!

-🌼🌼🌼-

And break a leg he did. 

There’d been a few mishaps. Josh’s mic had gotten turned off midway through a song, Sam’s bass had been overbearingly loud at the beginning of the set, and Jake’s cord had initially had trouble picking up through his amp. 

You’d watched the first two incidents happen, hating it for the guys that they were having technical difficulties. But when Jake’s problem had occurred, you were feeling every bit of anxiety with him. You wanted to jump over the barricade and help him in whatever way you could. Ease his stress. 

But when his face had flashed with anger every now and again (very subtly— his professionalism impressing you), your cheeks had flushed at the way he’d looked so heated. Then, when he’d ended up yanking the cord from his guitar, his hand flexing around the cable, gripping it with all he had. . . You couldn’t stop what accumulated between your thighs. And when his lips had curled with a small growl, right as he turned around to switch guitars, giving up, your heart started beating, quick. Right below your breasts, rising and falling with every sharp breath you took. 

After that, he’d had no more issues, but you’d kept a closer eye on him than before (if that was even possible), for the rest of the set. There was literally nothing you could do from your spot, but just keeping a watchful eye made you feel better.

Though, he never looked out to find you, even though he knew exactly where you stood. In fact, he stayed rather focused on his brothers only. He watched them closely, looking as though he was ready to help if the need were to arise.

But there hadn’t been another problem for the four men. 

In fact, the rest had gone on without the slightest hitch. The way they seamlessly played off the mistakes was incredible, too. It truly showed their dedication to the art.

And the difficulties they’d encountered only added to the grand finale. . . The song you’d always associate with the first night you finally got what you’d so badly wanted. . . 

Edge of Darkness. 

Though, as much as you wanted to look at Jake (and the rest of the guys, of course), you had to look behind you to the hoards of screaming people. All of the women that were shrieking for them— it wasn’t a new thing, necessarily. . . But you were only used to the people who frequented small hole-in-the-wall shows. 

Not full-on festival goers. 

Not actual fans, reaching for one another, pointing their friends in the direction of a certain guy, doe eyes directed at each of the boys they’d scream for. 

Then there were the bras that were being thrown at the stage, over and over again. That was pretty funny— you couldn’t lie. 

But what wasn’t funny was the person watching from the opposite side of the lawn as you. She had her own section, too, maybe? 

From where you were standing, you weren’t sure if she did or if she was just GA. . . Surely if she’d been backstage she had a special place, though. . . If you were right in your assumption of her arriving with him, then you were sure that she had her own designated spot to stand. But why on Sammy’s side? Now your mind pwas running rampant. . .Had Jake been watching his brothers during the show? Or watching her when he’d looked that way?

Fuck— it didn’t matter.

All of this information you were trying to figure out. . . was just making your stomach churn. The way she watched him, biting her lip with a wide smile during his solo. Her eyes trailed his body in blatant admiration. 

Because she knows what’s underneath those clothes, the voice in your head reminded you. You’re not special. Can’t you tell?

But what really got you lost in your head, was when she started singing along with Josh. She knew the fucking lyrics. Every last word. As if she’d heard them a hundred times before.

That wonderful voice in your head suddenly reminded you of the fact that he was teaching her to play guitar. 

What if Jake was teaching her their songs during her lessons? What if she helped him write some of the material? What if. . . some of them were written about her? She had inspired him. . . of that you were almost completely sure. How could she not? She was fucking beautiful. She was not you. He would be insane to not feel inspired by just looking at her. 

Your mind began running far, far away from you with all of the unknowns surrounding the ever present mystery that came with Maya. Wrapping your arms around your body self-consciously, you looked back at the stage to try your hardest to enjoy the rest of the show.

You knew you were probably overthinking it, that it more than likely wasn’t that deep. But, anything was possible. And the way he had kept his involvement with her a secret for so long, (and if it weren’t for Sam, you’d probably still be blind to the fact that anything had ever happened between them) there were clearly things he didn’t want you to know about with her, or he would have brought it up. Despite your stupid fucking rules you had set in place. You knew he would have told you if he wanted to. 

It became increasingly obvious to you at that moment, watching Jake live out his dream on that stage with his brothers that you were most definitely not fit to live out the dream with him. She seemed to be so much more involved in it than you had ever been. Or tried to be. So selfish of you. 

Maya was so enthusiastic, so attentive to him beforehand. All day long, while you’d waited on Elsie, so as not to go to this event by yourself and look strange as the guys did their shit. How stupid was that? It sounded utterly foolish now. Because she hadn’t worried about that, coming no matter what, to be there with him.

Supporting him while you were being selfish at home. You were so concerned with other senseless things that you couldn’t be there with him to show him actual support. The necessary change, which lingered like a dark cloud over your head, just kept becoming more and more apparent. . . It would be foolish for you to not end things when it was obvious they needed to end.

-🌼🌼🌼-

When the show ended, Josh texted Elsie.  

No text on your end from Jake, but you tried not to overthink it. 

Josh had wanted you two to meet them backstage to get the “full experience,” as his message had iterated.

Then you were being ushered by security, who had apparently been told to locate you and transport you, filtering you into the area where the guys would convene after the show. 

Before you had too much time to stand and appreciate the space around you, you noticed Jake pass you, angrily. Storming off somewhere, it seemed. Your eyes followed him helplessly, worriedly. He didn’t even acknowledge you, his brothers trailing after him, but presumably giving up as they stopped in front of you and Elsie instead. 

It was excellent timing, though, because just as they’d come to a stop in front of you, Maya was coming up behind Josh, tapping him on the shoulder. Her long, inky waves billowed out like curtains around her heart shaped face. She seemed just as flustered as Jake had been. But where his was out of anger, hers was with an air of concern. 

“Where is he?” She’d asked, hastily, her brows drawn in with worry.

Fuck. Even her voice was effortlessly majestic. Without being able to control them, you felt the prick of tears behind your eyes. Your heart was going a million miles an hour. What did she know that you didn’t? Why was she so involved? Were you simply the one he wanted to fuck and sext? 

Why did it feel like it was just a little more than that with you? Had it been more than sex, ever? Was that something you’d conjured up in your head?

Josh had just rolled his eyes, motioning over in the direction in which he’d gone. “Over there somewhere, I guess,” he said. “But you’d be wise to let him be. He’s in a shit fucking mood. I told him time and time again he needed to replace that amp cable. He just wouldn’t listen to me.” 

She groaned and placed her open palm on her forehead, she scratched a well manicured finger to her shapely black brow. “I knew he would have an issue with that one of these days. I just hate that it was here.” 

She knew about it? About his amp cable that had apparently bitten the dust? It was like watching an entire new part of his life unfold before you, a part that you were not good enough to be involved with. Mundane things that only the people closest to him were aware of– but not you. 

You started feeling ten levels beneath her rank in Jake’s life. She was stories above you; you were obviously just a free pussy for him to park himself in when he needed it. A warm place for him to come home to, that was it. And you, so fucking willing to give it to him. His beautiful, sculpted body always made you so goddamn weak. 

You had remembered the texts you had gotten earlier– how badly he wanted to fuck you, despite your monthly visitor taking up residence. You’d thought it was so sexy that he still wanted to, that he was desperate to have your body tangled up with his no matter the circumstance. That had turned you on beyond all imagination. 

But now, as you were beginning to realize what you had meant to him in comparison to Maya. . . the feeling disappeared. Hell, she probably received those exact same messages as you, maybe even more. Maybe he had already snuck off somewhere to fuck her before you showed up. 

There was just so much you didn’t know. Your thoughts were swirling like a storm ripping through the sturdiest house, destroying everything deemed safe in its wake. He felt safe. Now, it all felt demolished. Maya was the perfectly ominous storm cloud blocking your rays of warm, shining sun.

All you wanted to do was go home, take a Midol, curl up under your blanket with your heating pad and forget about it all. Forget about Maya, forget about the festival, forget Jake. 

Maya was then gone, running in the direction of Jake while quickly thanking Josh as he gave her a half smile with a “yeah, no problem,” leaving his tensed lips. His love stricken eyes were glued to your sister, relieved to see her. It was obvious he was only concerned with her being there, rather than Jake’s pissy theatrics. 

He also lacked any emotion at what was happening behind him. As if it were the norm. The beautiful woman who was being shown by security where to go, being led directly to the man that had given her more of himself than he’d ever even thought to give you. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

Hours later, as you sat in your bed, face washed and in a giant t-shirt, sweatpants, and fluffy socks, you wished you could just go to fucking sleep.

You’d tried reading a steamy romance to distract you, but that had been a witless idea as all that had done was make you cry. The characters, hopelessly in love, looked like Maya and Jake in your head– so meant to be and written in a way that left them utterly transfixed with each other. Your brain was fucking wired and going crazy.

I knew this was a risk.

I knew emotions were bound to get involved. 

I knew that I was going to get hurt one way or another. 

You’d already cried plenty once you’d arrived home. What had started the onslaught of tears had been seeing his door, hanging open like it had been earlier, as he’d left in a flurry to make it to the festival. He’d kissed you before he’d left, and you’d bid him good luck. Your body had been filled to the brim with reassurance that things weren’t completely off. That maybe you had overthought some of the way you’d felt in the bathroom on Wednesday. Maybe you’d misunderstood him and Josh. 

You felt like a fucking moron, now, for getting butterflies at the interaction. Any time he’d ever kissed you, that same fluttery feeling occurred in your tummy, and it all felt ridiculously in vain now. Completely misplaced wistfulness and giddiness. 

Why had you gotten your hopes up at all?

You had just decided to take an ibuprofen to help with your cramps and hopefully lull you to sleep (as it usually did), when you heard the front door quietly open and close.

You had heard your phone buzz a few times in the past couple of hours, presumably messages from him. Everyone else had heard you say you were going home. And you knew what Josh and Elsie were most likely up to, far too busy to text. . . But you had opted to just ignore them. You hadn't even bothered looking at the bright screen. You didn’t want to talk to him.

After a few moments, there was a soft knock on your door. Then another. “Y/n? Are you asleep?” He had asked, his voice so soft.

You didn’t answer. The tears that climbed your throat made you think better of that.

“Are you okay?”

Again, you didn’t answer. You decided to pretend to be asleep. To avoid him altogether. 

Any other time, you’d be jumping down this throat, picking an argument over literally anything just to satisfy the hurt you’d sustained. But tonight, it was different. You just didn’t have it in you. 

You didn’t have the energy. You were sad, not necessarily angry. And you wouldn’t dare let him see you that way.

Aside from that, you knew that if he advanced you the way he’d said he wanted to earlier, you’d give in to his allure. You knew yourself all too well. And that was the last thing you wanted to give him. You had no clue what you were anymore, so why in the hell would you risk doing that? Continue to give him more of yourself when he wasn’t giving you all of himself? If that’s what he wanted so badly, Maya would surely be more than happy to fulfill that for him. 

“Well,” he started, his voice even softer than it was before. You could have ignored it. But, in spite of yourself, you hung on to each rasping word. “I know you’re probably asleep. I just– I wanted to tell you how beautiful you looked tonight and how glad I was that you were there. I always perform better when you’re there,” he cleared his throat, then continued. “Sleep tight, baby.”

You heard his footsteps lightly step away, heading to his room. You heard his door open and then shut soon after. 

Like a flood with no dam to hold it at bay, heavy tears began streaming down your face. Your pillow was soaked with your emotions in a matter of seconds. You brought your hand up to cover your mouth in an effort to quiet the choked sobs as they came from your throat. You just wanted to sleep. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

August 22, 2022

That following Monday, school started like you had been dreading.

But when the day came, you sort of accepted it as something that could alleviate some of your pent up emotions. Thankfully, you weren’t on your period anymore for your feelings to be raging.

However, they were persistently there. Mocking you for still being involved with him when all signs were pointing to him being involved with Maya, too. She was exactly what he needed.

You were a placeholder. Insignificant. Convenient.

So, when classes came along, they helped to bring some of your sense of purpose back. You were able to count on your coursework, professors, and peers to remind you that you were more than being free pussy for your roommate. You’d let your emotions guide you more into being angry than sad. It helped you to let them melt to a simmering ire. 

For instance, avoiding Jake had been easier. You had been able to rely on your period, the temper that bubbled below your skin, your work schedule on Saturday, and a meeting that he and the guys had participated in the Sunday after the festival.

Of course, he’d asked if you were okay whenever you’d seen him, but you’d given him barely-there responses like:

“Yeah, just tired.”

“Thinking about a lot.”

“Hormones are just insane right now. . .“

“School’s getting ready to start, so I’m just gearing up.”

“Don’t worry about me.”

Every time, he looked at you like he didn’t believe you were telling him the whole truth (how did he always know?). You knew it was a complete 360 from how vulnerable you’d let yourself be with him recently, but you silently relied on how long it had taken you to open up prior. Because you knew that he knew from experience that you didn’t like to overtly open up all the time. So, naturally, that also meant he didn’t push it a whole lot.

But you caught his glances– wondering and worrying about you. It was definitely fair for him to be curious, of course, but you’d just ignored his curiosity– pretended to not pick up on it. Acted oblivious. 

He’d texted you good morning texts every morning, too. Which he hadn’t always done before. . . but it was like he was trying as hard as he could to get you to trust him with whatever was going on in your head.

All you ever did was send a small “Morning!” or “Have a good day!” back, though. . . Mentally all you could revert back to was that he was probably the same exact way with Maya. Acted concerned for her. . . wanted her to trust him and open up to him and sleep with him. . . 

And you were sure it meant more to him with her. She was special. You were not. You were you. 

Average. His roommate. Sometimes maybe a friend.

You didn’t know though. Because any time he had acted like it was more, it had maybe just been a weird ploy. Why he felt the need to deceive you in any regard– like getting to you and figuring you out and being close to you for no reason– that was beyond you. 

You just knew people couldn’t always be trustworthy. Even the ones you wanted to trust most of all.

-🌼🌼🌼-

August 26, 2022

The bell on the door chimed, telling you someone was entering the shop, but you didn’t glance up to see who it was as you were in the middle of unpacking a random box of new vinyl.

You were just ready to get home. So ready to get off work. You weren’t even worried about Jake being there. You knew he had the day off, but you didn’t give two shits. He would cease to exist the moment you crossed the threshold of your home anyway. Your bed was calling your name from here. You were tired as hell.

The first Friday of every school year was normally tiring, but this one was worse due to the stressors of your personal life and the already-searing intensity of senior year.

“Hello, my love.”

That voice. It never failed to make your heart leap with delight. Your eyes were still tired, but your heart, now elated and full when you looked up to see Josh. For some reason beyond you, it just seemed entirely right for him to pop in. Felt like old times– before you worried about all kinds of shit. Him being present made everything feel tranquil in your current, opposite predicament. 

And his next words tempted even more tranquility. 

“I’ve got some fucking exquisite pot,” he beamed, one hand on his hip and the other balanced above his head, on the wooden shelf of records that you were stocking with more. 

You giggled, your eyes blinking tiredly. “Where the fuck is it? You already smoke some?”

“Fuck no, little mama,” he shooed away your words with his hand. “I’m waiting to do that with you.”

How did he know that this was exactly what you needed?

“Way to show up and rub it in my face while I’m stuck at work,” you rolled your eyes, smile still sitting easily on your lips. “That’s just rude, Joshua.”

He snorted. “You’re like ten minutes away from being off the clock, drama queen. I’m just letting you know I’m on my way to your place with it. We’ll be waiting for you.”

“Who’s ‘we’?” You smirked, raising a brow at the Indie vinyl that you were tucking in its spot. “You and Mary Jane?”

“Technically, I guess,” he stated as if he appreciated the slight joke. “But the guys as well.”

You froze with your hand on the record you’d just placed. Fuck. Ugh. No. 

That is literally the last thing I need, you thought, cross.

You grumbled under your breath, smoothing the top of the sleeve, trying to play it off. How could you convince him to ditch the others? The man who was the precise reason you wanted to get high off your ass?  “What happened to the days where just you and I would hang out?”

“Now that would be rude of me to not include at least one of them. . . as Jake was the one to mention you needing something to ease some stress,” he picked at a nail. “And the other two are just always there.”

What? What all had Jake told your curly headed friend? Why was he even talking about you? He needed to mind his fucking business.

“He wanted you to get me high? That’s gentlemanly.”

He cleared his throat, prompting you to look at him. His wide eyes were narrowed at you, a look of judgment swimming in them. “No. . .? Why would you assume that? Jake would never suggest getting a woman high to calm her down. I personally just enjoy feeling like the fuckin’ air to alleviate my worries, so. . . I decided on the weed.” 

His full eyebrows were still crinkled, mildly hidden by his growing hair. The curls touched the arch of his brow now, falling loosely over his ears. He finished with some words that cut through to you in a way you wished they wouldn’t. “He might be a dick sometimes, but he’s not all bad. You really need to stop thinking so little of him.”

Ouch, Josh. Stay in your lane. Don’t counsel me.

“Well, he’s the one who brought it up,” you said, tone still sharp and cutting through Stevie Wonder’s voice, ironically singing of being too shy to say things. “I just figured it had all been his idea.”

“Well, no,” he said, correcting. He backed up just a bit to lean against the front of the counter to talk from there. No one was in the store. Save for the fact you were talking about Jake, this felt so like the past. . . before everything. You could’ve cried (so much crying, Jesus). He crossed his legs at the ankle and arms at his chest. “All I told you was that he told me you were stressed and a little sad.”

Sad and stressed? Also, how did he know you were sad? That was a matter of assumption. Again, he needed to mind his damn business.

“Well, I don’t know why he’d go and assume I’m sad. That seems invasive as hell,” you began. “But I have been stressed. Why he’s telling you, I don’t know. But you already know the beginning of the school year is always a lot.”

Also, your brother and his girlfriend are all I can think about and it’s making me feel like dirt.

“I think he cares about you. Weird as it may seem, he has a soft spot for you,” he says, his eyes glinting and a little smile tugging on his full lips. “I mean, for God’s sake, he went to your grandparents’ house with you. . . He wouldn’t do that if he didn’t.”

Your heart was beating erratically in your chest. It didn’t matter. It didn’t fucking matter. For all you knew, he did the same shit with Maya. You weren’t special. But why did Josh taking the time to tell you this make you feel like maybe you were just a little bit unique? 

You couldn’t help but ask your next question. You were hoping it didn’t give you away. But Josh was the perfect person to ask. . . Nonchalantly as possible, of course. 

Continuing to sort through records in the massive delivery box, you avoided his eyes when you asked, “Doesn’t get soft for people easily?” 

“One could say he picks his people. . . And I guess you’re one of them,” he offered as his answer. Then, you saw his hand grab into the box to help you with the records. You peered up to where he’d positioned himself in front of you. “And who wouldn’t go all soft for you, y/n? You’re one of the most precious humans this world has ever been given. I knew it was only due time until Jake noticed.”

As soon as he said it, he’d smiled, and decided to go about his business helping you. But you just kept staring at him. The tears that welled in your eyes were unavoidable. You needed to hear that. As you felt a few fall down your cheeks, you walked around the box to where Josh was now stocking a re-release of Lana Del Rey’s Born to Die — Paradise Edition on the old, creaking shelf. 

He made a sound of surprise as you wrapped your arms around him in a bear hug, holding on for dear life. It didn’t take him long to adjust to the feeling, though, as he enveloped you all the same. His familiar, strong arms wrapped around you just as they always had in times like these. Times where he’d said exactly what you needed to hear without knowing it. He was an empath through and through. 

And God were you thankful for him. You didn’t deserve him. Your tears continued for a bit, wetting his white t-shirt. Breathing in, and sniffing a bit to rid yourself of the tears, you backed away after squeezing him once more. His eyes were searching yours when you let go of him. Ever-attentive, reading you however he could whenever he felt the need. . . 

“I’d say he was on to something,” was all he remarked, going back to the records. “Let’s get these done and get the hell out of here, what do you say?”

“Yeah,” you responded, your voice still wet.

“Oh, and speaking as someone who loves the fuckin’ shit out of you, I need you to start taking care of yourself and rid your life of what is making you feel so sad,” he softly advised. You glanced over to him, seeing him still going about his task, but talking away. “You deserve to feel happy and whole. . .and I need you to do whatever it takes for you to feel that way. Please take care of yourself, love.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

Once you finished and were heading out the door with Josh, you decided that you were going to try your best to let yourself feel free tonight. It was what you needed. One last hurrah as senior year kicked off. 

And one last night with Jake before you did what you knew you had to do. . . You had to be done with him. All it was doing was dragging you down. And, talking to Josh tonight had made you realize, once again, that you couldn’t chance him finding out about you and his brother. You knew he would feel utterly betrayed by you, and he was far too important to you for you to risk that. 

Jake was also important— his career was shooting off and you were not the right person to join him on that new journey in his life. In your opinion, no one should join him on that journey. . . It was his and his alone. But if he were to have someone on that path with him, Maya was a much better candidate for it than you. 

Chances were, she was probably the one that he wanted on that next step of his life as well. She was the ideal person to take that leap with him. Utterly supportive. Unselfish. Completely beautiful. . . The perfect girlfriend for a rockstar. 

Continuing things with Jake made no sense. There was no use pretending that what you had with him was actually meant to last.

-🌼🌼🌼-

When you got home, you immediately went to the bathroom to refresh. You decided to take off your makeup and wash your face. Knowing yourself too well, you knew it wouldn’t happen later when you were three sheets to the wind. Josh had followed in directly behind you. He started telling the guys what he needed before they began. He started with his long-haired twin. 

“Food, Jacob?!” Josh yelled in the direction of the kitchen, from which you smelled delicious smells wafting. 

“Aye aye, Captain Stick-Up-Your-Ass,” Jake replied loudly.

“And what did you decide to pick from your expansive catalog of recipes?” Josh said, slapping something. You could assume it was Sam when you heard the younger brother’s voice exclaim with an “ow!” 

Then you heard Jake’s voice, like velvet, but loud enough for Josh to hear.

“Ramen bowls,” he called back. “She loves them.”

Your heart leapt at that. Why was he being so sweet? Was he like this with her? Remembering her favorite meals?

Because he was already making the food that Josh was demanding, Jake hadn’t taken notice of you when you'd come in alongside Josh. So you’d been able to slip past unnoticed. No one had acknowledged you, in fact. Sam and Danny had been too busy on the couch, flipping through their phones, showing each other different women on Tinder when you’d passed through the living room.

“Incense. Samuel, your job— did you bring any like I asked?”

Halfway paying attention, you heard Sammy give an agreeing grunt. 

“Let’s start lighting ‘em up, then,” he commanded. He snapped his fingers, probably right in Sam’s face. “No time to waste, Sam. Come on.” 

Then, grumbling, you heard Sam tell Josh to “fuck himself”. But you assumed he’d done as he was told with his aromatics, as you smelled the familiar heady scent of incense. The scent he’d chosen was Godsent. Ideal for your state of unrest.

The lovely scent of lavender was already whirling from the front of the apartment, straight to your room. Even with the door closed, you were catching the relaxing smell.

“God, I love the smell of lavender,” your roommate said, pure admiration in his tone. “Instant serenity.”

Sam responded, pride in his voice as he explained his choice. “We all know y/n has been stressed,” they all know? “So I chose lavender for its properties to cleanse, heal, and bring happiness. I was also considering its elements for peace, harmony, relaxation, and love. I wanted her to feel all of those things. She needs it.”

Your heart felt whole. You did feel the love. 

But your thoughts flew around, bumping the sides of your head. ‘She needs it.’ What is that even supposed to mean? 

“Yeah, she’s just been off. I want her to be able to feel more like herself,” Jake voiced, sighing. “I’m still not sure about the weed. I don’t want her to feel any lack of control— because that might make her worry more.”

Stop showing how much you care, Jake. It hurts and it’s going to give something away.

But keep going, too. . . Please. For me.

It was Josh’s turn to sigh. “Jacob, I’ve told you. This is something she’s done with us before. All of us. Besides you, of course, I’m assuming,” he paused, slowly iterating his next words. “She and Elsie used to do it with us, like, once a fuckin’ month as a ritual to bond and decompress from life.” His tone was exasperated, as if he’d explained a million times what he’d just said. And he wasn’t wrong. You could confirm everything he was saying. 

He continued. “She can handle her green. I promise. I’ve done it with her time and again.” Then, his voice got stern, unwavering. “I would never recommend she partake in something that would make her feel out of control. That’s not me. Take a second to remember that,” he leveled. “But she does need to feel the peace and freeness that comes with marijuana’s natural magic. We all know it works wonders to ease the chaos within the human mind.” 

“Okay,” Jake relented. “I’ll take the bait. I believe you.”

“Thank you. Now, I’m going to start making things cozy, cue up some music. . .,” Josh said. “Daniel, dim the lighting. I’m gonna light some candles.”

You started pilfering through your drawer of leggings. You found your favorite pair. The pair that made your ass pop. Then you sorted through your drawer of cropped tanks. Once you’d found the one you wanted, you felt your cheeks heat. 

Did you want to do this? Dress like this? Was it a stupid idea? Was this foolish? A smart idea? It would be stupid to deny who you were wanting to dress like this for. . . But should you do it? Would it be obvious?

You dress like this all the time, y/n, a kind of voice reassured you within your cluttered mind. It wouldn’t be abnormal for you to wear it. 

Jake’s voice cut through your internal ramble.

“Are we having a fucking orgy, Josh?” Jake asked. His hearty chuckle and the blatant mention of sex made your chest tighten and your stomach flip as you gripped the gray cami in your fist. 

“Jake!” Josh’s voice snapped, offended. He was out of breath, as if he’d been busy working away at his self-given task. “No one in this humble abode has had sex with another, and I don’t plan on starting that tonight.”

Your heart rate sped up. All of a sudden, you were completely aware of your state of undress from where you were squatting next to your dresser. Naked (save for your bra and panties), in your bedroom. And the fact that Jake was out there, alone. 

You suddenly longed to be close to him. For more than one wanting reason. One reason left your heart pumping in your ears and your underwear feeling obscenely constrictive.

The lesser reason being, you were dying to know what Jake’s reaction to that had been. But you hadn’t heard him make a peep. If you were being honest with yourself, you knew his reaction had been subdued, playing it off. He wouldn’t outwardly expose it. You knew him better than to assume that. 

I really do need to be better at giving him the benefit of the doubt, you thought, sadly. 

You knew it was too little too late. 

Then you heard Josh laugh. The same little laugh he’d do when he would think of something he found funny. “Now if Elsie were here. . .”

You heard all three of them say “Josh!” in unison to his remark, having joined in if you were in there, too.

“What?! The girl knows how to twist that tight body just righ—.”

“Lalala,” Sam sang to himself. You imagined him covering his ears, masking Josh’s voice. 

“What?! She is the best I’ve ever—.”

“Josh, with all due respect,” Danny’s soft voice cut through. “Please shut the fuck up.”

Yes, you thought. Ew, Josh. 

“Brother,” Jake chimed in, once again calling from where he most likely still stood in the kitchen. “Dinner is ready. So, please, come stuff your face and let our ears breathe.”

And, as if your stomach truly was in tune with it all, it grumbled.

-🌼🌼🌼-

Dinner was incredibly delicious (as you knew it would be), resulting in it being downed in no time. 

The five of you had sat around your little dinner table to eat, and it’d felt so nice. But the entire time, you never looked across the table at Jake. You’d also avoided him as you made your plate, only glancing at him out of the corner of your eye to give him a small ‘thank you’ as he talked to Josh. He’d blinked a few times and responded with a “Y-yeah, of course.” 

But now, as you sat around the table after supper, you wouldn’t dare look at him. It was a lot to get the courage to do so. 

For one, as weird as it was, it kind of intimidated you to do so. He intimidated you. . . Especially now that you’d gotten a good look at his other pick of women. The ones that weren’t you. Maya was exquisitely stunning. Just like the one he’d made out with months ago on the couch— the day he brought the lavender to you at work. (The day you’d been an asshole to him, yet again, for no reason.)

You knew you weren’t as beautiful as either of those women. He was far too out of your league. You’d known this to begin with. It was all just repeatedly slapping you in the face now. . . Like normal, he made you all nervous and jittery. But it was different now. You knew you didn’t measure up, and it was embarrassing that he’d ever given you a chance, honestly. Embarrassing for him.

Every negative thought that you could have was tearing at you. . . It was as if seeing Maya that first day, and then hearing what you did from Sam had just set everything off. Everything. 

As you watched Josh and Sam pick at one another’s opinions on the most idiotic things, you spaced out, pondering why you were feeling so much all at once. Was this another result of your childhood trauma? The overthinking? Or was this just you, being a complete trainwreck of a human being? 

Either way, it was ridiculous and you wanted to be rid of the thoughts immediately. It was getting really old really fast. But you couldn’t shake them. Because, despite how annoying it was that they wouldn’t leave you be, you still felt they were true. 

And had been true since you were a kid. Practically since you were born. The facts could not lie. You weren’t good enough for your own mother. You’d been relentlessly terrible towards Elsie growing up. You’d been consistently unfair towards Jake. . . 

There was very little good about you, and you were starting to feel it put a damper on all things in your life.

God. You desperately needed therapy. Your struggles with anxiety were becoming all encompassing. The depression was sprouting without welcome.

He’s shown plenty of interest, y/n, your kind, consoling inner medium expressed. Stop acting like you’re less than the other women. Please. You know better. Don’t let your thoughts get ahead of you. . . 

Damn that voice sounded more and more like Elsie any time it managed to break through the darkness of your mind.

Sam’s cackle brought you back to reality from your mess of cluttered, stressful, spiraling thoughts. 

“That’s what I’m saying!” Sam exclaimed, pointing directly at his best friend who was sitting across the table from you, right next to Jake. “Thank you, Daniel!”

Josh’s scoff under his breath would have been highly noticeable even if you hadn’t been sitting next to him. You looked to your right to observe him and his reaction. 

“Birkenstocks are highly, highly overrated,” he insisted. “I seriously thought you were above the trends, Sammy. . . Now all I can assume is that you primarily care to partake in the highly popular things like other, normal people.”

“I’m not normal!” Sam declared, completely aghast at the comment. “Take it back, Josh.”

“Seems that you’re pop music personified. . .,” Jake said, teasing Sam as Josh had. 

Without even meaning to, too lost in everything going on around you now, you shot Jake a glare. And a response. 

“Shut the fuck up, Jake,” you intervened, your tone serious, but voice catching a little on his name. 

Apparently, of all things, talk of sandals were what could break your vow of avoiding Jake at all costs. Honestly, it was just Sam’s doleful reaction to Jake’s words. He’d gasped, his eyes curving down even more than normal, lip sticking out.  

Once you’d connected eyes with Jake, you got lost for a few seconds in the rich pools of chocolate that made up his deep set eyes. . .  It was kind of like a readjustment. You were really looking at him for the first time in days. Your ridiculously hot roommate. The same man you’d memorized in every way you could for the past month or so. . . You were reacquainting yourself with his features. 

You didn’t want to admit it, but. . . It felt like a piece of your heart was clicking back into place— after you’d given him the cold shoulder all week. His eyes felt so familiar and warm.

Initially, his eyes had widened. He’d seemed shocked that you’d spoken to him at all. But, after he’d stared at you for a moment, he raised a smart brow. Your heart rate increased at the action.

Then, he resituated, pushing his chair back from the table just enough to show his spread legs. You couldn’t control it when you glimpsed his crotch for five seconds. It was as if you were unable to resist— you’d finally taken the bait and broken the fine ice between you two. So, it seemed your eyes worked on their own and made up for lost time. . . Just for a few seconds. 

It’s been a fucking week, y/n, the snarky voice in your head mocked. You are too fucking weak for him. Why did you let him in? How are you going to be able to completely cut him off? Weak.

You noticed him push his hips up and out to lean back a bit. The action effectively shut off the voice in your head and made you twitch for him in your leggings.

I sure as hell am weak, you sassed back. And right now, I don’t care. And it’s been nine days. Not a week. 

He crossed his arms over his chest, flexing his strong, skilled fingers into his toned biceps. Not meaning to, you licked your bottom lip. 

Your body was craving him. Yearning for him. You’d gotten used to regular sex with him, and the nine days you’d been abstaining from it were catching up to you. How were you going to be able to cut yourself completely off?

You weren’t ready for that yet. 

But you have to be, the familiar voice reminded you. Enjoy it while it lasts because it’s almost over. You’re only hurting yourself more by extending this ridiculous escapade.

I’m already hurting. Fuck it. I will enjoy it while it lasts, you fought back, shoving the voice off of your shoulders for the time being. Josh is right. Tonight is about me feeling fucking free.

You accepted the challenge. The situation. You were ready to give in to the evening. Your insecurities could wait. They’d have their time soon. Tonight you wanted to ignore all of it. Now that you’d gotten a taste, you wanted to take a damn bite.

Skin now hot and senses tingling with his name, you peeked back at his face and found his waiting expression. Your eyebrow raised, too, darkening eyes trained on his. The way he was watching you, it was like he was testing you. But you weren’t going to give in too easily. Your heart was still hurting, and you weren’t going to bend at just anything. He could work for it. 

Just like you’d convinced yourself earlier. . . This was one last hurrah. Might as well make the most of it. Drag it out. Just for tonight.

“I’m tired of the obnoxious assholery filling up this room,” you stated, looking away from Jake to address the other two Kiszkas. “Let’s burn a few so you guys will shut the hell up.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

The haze had your mind in the clouds, but not so elevated that you weren’t aware of the happenings all around you. A good state, where your mind could still make cognitive sense of everything, but high enough that all of your worries vanished with each wave of smoke you blew from your mouth. You learned from Elsie the ‘proper’ way to get high, as she called it. One long, drawn out inhale of the smoke, fully filling your lungs and holding it as long as you could before blowing it out in one slow exhale. Less coughing that way, and the most effective way to really feel the effects without it being so intense. 

You’ve never loved the feeling of being completely inebriated. Far too often you’ve lost control of your intake, and at that point it would open the hypothetical doors to your past, forcing you to sit in your feelings. Too much of it could be dangerous for your psyche. But, you’ve learned how to control it. You’d discovered the perfect amount that had you feeling weightless and free, your body tickling with the warm fuzzy feeling that allowed you to finally relax. 

All of you had your own designated spot in the room– whether it be on blankets, pillows, the couch, or the armchair. You’d been given the couch to lay upon to smoke (as you’d been given first dibs, per Josh’s requirement). 

And the man who couldn’t escape your mind sat a few feet away from you, perfectly placed in your line of sight on a pile of blankets and pillows. His hands were in his lap, his legs crossed at the ankles, and his broad shoulders eased while his head laid back. 

Josh sat above him on the armchair, his limbs loosened to noodles. Just as Josh started to lay back and close his eyes, he sat up lazily. His eyes, reddened and heavy-lidded, looked around to survey the rest of you.

“We’re in desperate need of some tunes,” Josh said, dragging out the words with a giant grin plastered to his face. “Anyone opposed?

You were laid back against the arm of the couch, sprawled out. And you barely heard him as you’d become utterly transfixed on Jake. . . how he’d balanced the base of his head on the ottoman of the chair, eyes closed as he most surely let the feeling of smoke in him and around him delight his system. 

The other two had agreed, but you hardly paid them or Josh any mind. You didn’t wholly process him searching your vinyl collection, picking one from the top. 

“Ah, yes. Perfection at its finest,” he made an approving sound with his teeth as he placed the disc on the turntable and read the tracklisting. “This woman was spellbinding.”

At once, you heard the silken scratching of the vinyl from the needle as the record began to spin. An all too familiar album began playing. 

Your head perked up as much as it could while simultaneously feeling stuck in the clouds. Sam and Danny were basically gone, just bobbing their heads a little to the rhythm. But they seemed to be fading away by the way they rolled their heads further and further back against their pillows. 

Josh had a goofy smile on his face as he settled back into his chair, his hair fluffing around him as he softly nodded his head in tandem with her voice. 

You let your eyes travel to Jake for a brief moment, and saw that his eyes were still closed, but now his chest was rising and falling steadily. Had he fallen asleep?

Momentarily, you were disappointed. But you soon realized just how nice sleep sounded. . . Especially when you looked away from Jake to see his counterpart, completely zonked out with his mouth hanging open. Quiet snores were emitting from both of them, but Josh’s were louder thanks to his wide open mouth. Jake’s were barely there. . . more heavy breaths than anything. You knew it meant he’d drowsed only moments ago, a deep slumber not fully taking him yet.

You started to doze off a bit, settling into the way her soulful voice could lull you into a sweet slumber. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

You didn’t know what it was that jostled you awake. 

Maybe it had been the song change, and you’d just somehow caught on to this song while in dreamland. . . this wonderful song. . . dammit. 

I will go where you lead

I'll be right there in a time of need

And when I lose my will

You'll be right there to push me up that hill

You sunk into the feeling of it, but your attention was caught again.

There was muffled shuffling happening in the distance, your senses heightened by the smoke, helping you catch on to the smallest of sounds. Motherly instincts to your lovely feline child, who was sure to be causing the ruckus. 

What was Stevie getting herself into?

Lifting your head, you turned it to follow the noise happening in the distance. It was dark due to the late hour. . . you could hardly see. The candles, your only light source. 

From what you could tell, the sound was coming from the kitchen. Curiosity was pushing you into a sitting position. You rose without difficulty, your bearings coming back to you little by little. You’d smoked just enough for the escape, but the clarity was still there. Weed was so miraculous that way. Giving an individual just what he or she might need from it. It could mold to the requirements of its enjoyer. Aware as you were, the air around you still felt slow and heady. . . you felt every energy all at once. It made your head swim just a tad. 

As you stood, your legs felt like air. You rooted yourself into the sureness of the flat ground. The carpet tickled your bare toes, but you concealed the little sigh that threatened to escape you at the sensation. You were doing your best to not bother the snoozing bodies littered around you. 

From your new viewpoint, your eyes swept the room. Dreamily deciding to save the best for last, you started at one side of the room. You squinted at Sammy and Danny first. They were cuddled into their own blankets on their separate pallets, but facing towards one another still.

Next, you looked for Josh, who you didn’t really have to look for since you heard his snores before you saw him. Drool was gathered at the corner of his mouth, opened just as it had been when you’d closed your own eyes. Something caused him to rustle in his sleep, making him jump a little and sniff, one snore resulting in a snort. But just as he’d been shaken, his mouth was opened yet again, snores even louder this time. The drool slipped down his chin. You cringed. He was not an attractive sleeper. 

His twin on the other hand. . .the most beautiful sleeper you’d ever laid sleepy eyes on. So, you finally set your gaze where you'd been desiring. 

. . .To find nothing. No Jake. Where did he go?

Even amidst the wispy cloud of your mind, you immediately assumed the worst.

Had he invited Maya over? Had that been the sound? God you hoped not.

Even still, your feet moved on their own, all the way to the kitchen from the living room. . . you saw Stevie on your way there, asleep on the top of the couch. She’d nestled right above you. Naturally, you just hadn’t caught on because of your brain fog.

Not knowing what you were about to find, you rounded the corner. And what you found made your eyes water so quickly. The sight was so plain, so simple. . .but so incredibly wholesome.

Your whispered voice broke the silence. 

“Why are you watering my lavender?”

He jumped a bit, the tiny, gilded watering pail you’d gotten for it still mid-air when he blinked in your direction, his eyes adjusting to the vast darkness in your shared home.

“I was just putting dinner up and it looked a little wilty,” he said, sounding ‘wilty’ himself. “Have you not watered it recently?”

Shit. While immersed in your unreasonable head for the past several days, you’d ignored the plant. 

“No,” you responded, not providing an explanation. 

“I understand,” he said, a small grin on his lips and honesty in his eyes, even darker in the shadowy lighting. A candle on the bar was the only way you could make him out. “School starting and all. I bet your stress has been high because of that.”

“Yeah,” you absentmindedly agreed. But his words rang again in your head, things clicking slower with the pot. “Also, stop telling people I’m stressed,” you griped, crossing your arms (partially to keep yourself balanced). “Or sad. You don’t know.”

He emptied the rest of the water into the soil, feeling it with his fingers before washing his hands. Then he turned to you, his face pinched with shock. He shook his head a bit, his longer waves swaying at his collarbone. “It’s obvious you have been.”

Fuck. You knew you’d been transparent. It was something you flourished at– wearing your heart on your sleeve. And that also meant you were shit at masking your emotions. But why did he care?

“Okay, say I have. Still not your business to share,” you asserted, with a final nod of your head. 

He nodded, pushing his lip out. He lifted his hand to his chin to rub it a bit, a sign you’d learned to mean that he agreed. “That is fair. I’m sorry.”

You felt your head rock a bit and shut your eyes briefly to reset. The flow of the remaining green in your system was making you a bit dizzy. And while you were still with it and aware of yourself and your surroundings, you knew that it was probably time to go to bed. It was also getting to be too much talking to Jake like normal. 

Things weren’t normal. And you couldn’t pretend they were. It made your heart feel all blue. As much as you missed him–just talking to him, you decided to use sleep as the reason to excuse yourself. Before you told him every tiny thing on your mind. You knew yourself too well– when weed entered the picture, there was no concealing a single thought that crossed your mind. 

“I’m going to bed,” you said, turning away from him and starting the walk to your bedroom, your heart still with him and the fucking lavender in the kitchen window.

But just as you’d made it to your door, opening it just a smidge, you felt a warm hand encompass yours, which still twisted around the knob. You could have fallen into him. It felt so good to simply feel his touch. God, he really was so warm. So safe. So cozy. So Jake.

He doesn’t feel the same for you, the fucking nagging voice said, slipping through the thickness of the marijuana. You aren’t those things to him.

Go the fuck home, you told the voice, pissed beyond belief that it had managed to enter your hazy realm of escapism.

“I am home,” he said, his voice low and hot on your neck. The feeling grew goosebumps immediately. 

Fuck. You’d said it out loud. That was embarrassing as hell.

“I was talking to myself,” you revealed honestly–crazily, angling your head so you could speak over your shoulder to him. And just as you did, it became obvious just how close he was to you. His collar, level with your eyes. You looked up a bit to find him watching you. Carefully. Warily. But intensely all the same. 

“That’s endearing,” he said, the humor in his tone making you suddenly angry. 

You turned on your heel, resulting in him moving away from you a few inches.

No. Come back.

You fought the desperation in your veins. The desperation making your heart beat wildly in your chest.

“Why did you follow me? Acting like you care?” You said, your voice hushed and eyes flicking a bit so you could actually handle looking him in the eyes. “Stop with the bullshit.”

“Woah,” he screwed his eyes slightly at you, his voice level meeting yours. “You know I care.” 

He took one more step back. 

What are you doing? Stop leaving me.

You just left him, you idiot, your familiar, inner monster said, judging you.

“No. You don’t care. Not actually. And if you do, I know it’s not just for me,” the words spilled out, humiliating you. “I’ve had the past few days to realize that.”

Oh, fuck. Here comes honesty hour.

He crossed his arms at his chest. His biceps were distracting. Goddamn.

“So that’s what’s been wrong?”

You gave yourself a tiny moment to evaluate him. He seemed way too sober for this conversation to be an even playing field.

“Are you not high?”

He cracked a smile, nodding his head. “Yes, I am,” he looked down, seeming a little embarrassed. If the lighting wasn’t so dark, you could guess you’d see a blush on the apples of his cheeks. “Just done it enough that it looks different on me. Trust me, my head is fuckin’ swimming. Dizzy and shit . . . just didn’t want to fall asleep in there and get a crick in my neck. And I figured I’d put dinner away since I’m still more present than not. . .,” he paused, looking up at you. “But, I assure you, I’m definitely not all here.”

You had to giggle a little in spite of it all. God, he was so fucking endearing. You couldn’t put it into words at that moment, but. . . damn. The way he was— so many things about him that you lo—. . . fuck.

“That’s exactly how I feel, too,” you admitted, your eyes innocently meeting his. 

His smile widened, face relaxing. But the change in demeanor broke your heart and made your defenses rise. Emotions were breaking loose again. . .

“Okay, so,” you shook your head, rubbing your temples to re-center. You glanced at him again. “If you do care, why did you ignore me on Friday?”

He shook his head once. “Ignore you? I literally talked to you. I’ll go get my phone right now to prove it.” You flushed thinking of the conversation. How badly you’d wanted him. . . still wanted him. He kept going, saying, “I also wanted to talk to you when I got home. But you were already asleep. I didn’t want to wake you.”

I wasn’t asleep, you wanted to say. I was just sad. Crying because of you.

“You stormed off. Didn’t even try to talk to me about how you were feeling,” you said, words quiet, yet cutting the air. “Made it obvious that I matter so little to you that I wasn’t even worth talking to when you were upset. Tell me how little I matter to you. Just say it.”

“Fuck– god, no. I won’t,” he brought the heels of his hands to his eyes. “I don’t ever want you to think you matter little to me– you are literally every– fuck. I don’t know what to say.”

“I don’t matter as much as Maya,” you said, finishing his sentence with a forlorn statement, in a snarky tone of voice. Your heart leapt into your throat at having mentioned her so boldly. There it was. Out in the open. “That’s why you didn’t want to talk to me. Just wanted to talk to her.”

He looked at you, a thousand thoughts swirling behind his bourbon-colored irises. His lips pursed, then he released a tight exhale, his eyes resting directly on you as if he’d decided to tell you something. Ready to break your heart, surely.

“Say it, Jake,” your voice cracked on his name.

Jake huffed. “Y/n, you are the reason I was so fucking pissed that day. I wasn’t going to talk to you about–.”

“Me?!” You blanched, perplexed that he could pin anything on you. All you’d done was be there to support him the best you could. You pointed a finger in your chest, “What did I,” and then at him, “do to you, asshole?!”

The name slipped out. You hated that you’d said it. But, you did. 

“I didn’t say you did anything to me. Will you let me explain?”

“Go ahead,” you motioned your hand, the action feeling slow with the marijuana lacing itself through your veins.

“I was embarrassed as fuckin’ shit that my cord gave out at that festival,” he began, words a little sluggish. I could’ve guessed that. “And for a second, I was embarrassed about it happening in front of so many people. . . but immediately after, before I could think about that, I thought about how you had come out to that festival, so excited and sexy as hell ready to see me perform, and I couldn’t even hold up my end of the deal. I wanted to impress you, and I failed,” he shook his head, looking down, away from you, his hands coming up to cover his face.

You wanted to believe him. But you’d gotten so used to combatting him, that you couldn’t help reject his words. “Sounds fake.”

Instantly, he dropped his hands, letting them slap against his thighs. His eyes were wide. “Are you serious right now?” He sounded sad. Hurt. “I bare my heart to you and all you can do is tell me I sound fake?” 

Putting your defenses down, you truly thought about it. Maybe. . . maybe he was telling the truth.

All your life, you had been so quick to expect the worst of people. You had never let yourself believe anyone could have good intentions. Why would you? After everything you’d been through, after how many people had hurt you to the point of severe trauma, it only made sense that your first instinct would be to not trust that anyone had your best interest at heart. But, staring at the man in front of you, his eyes begging you to believe him, his chest falling and rising with deep, slow breaths. . . all of his emotions, on blatant display. . . you thought of him and the person he’d been for you recently. How you had so openly shared things with him. . . Maybe he felt the same with you? Even if it sounded slightly ridiculous. . . It would be harsh to judge him for that. 

“I’m sorry,” you said, bowing your head. 

You felt two tender, calloused fingers lift your chin. Your body lit up at his touch. Eyes grew tears. . .

You just kept talking, feeling comfortably vulnerable under his stare.

“I thought she was here tonight.”

“Who?” He rubbed his thumb smoothly over your chin, holding your face so gently.

“Maya.”

He let go of you, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Fuck. I knew you would jump to conclusions with Sam saying what he did the other night.”

“I didn’t have to jump to any conclusions. I saw it with my own eyes. Heard Josh–,” you stopped yourself. Even in this dazed state, you knew that telling him you’d heard his conversation with Josh wasn’t a good idea. 

“Heard Josh. . . what?” He raised a brow.

“Nothing,” you shook your head.

He rolled his eyes. “Okay. Whatever you heard any of them say– can you believe me?” He asked, begging you with his profoundly engaging irises. “Please?”

You knew what you felt though. What you’d heard him say in response to Josh– what you’d seen with your eyes. You’d dug yourself a massive hole of winding thoughts. . . you weren’t sure who or what to believe. So, you responded simply. “I don’t know, Jake.”

He put a hand over his eyes, then removed it to question you. “Why?”

“I’m not getting into that right now,” you asserted, looking away and covering your face as he had his. When you looked back at him, and into his eyes, you let your guard down slightly. “You know why. It’s my specialty.”

“Okay . . .,” he accepted, his tone gentle and understanding. “We’ll just let that sit for now. Back to your initial assumption tonight, though. . . have I ever brought her here?”

“I’m assuming.”

“Stop assuming.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” you bit back.

“I’m only telling you that so you can stop hurting yourself. You spiral. I know this about you,” he reasoned carefully.

“That’s fucking rude.”

“Whatever. It’s true and you basically just said it yourself. I do it, too. So, fair’s fair,” he retorted, his tone indicating annoyance. “But to answer my question to you, for you– No. The answer is no. I’ve never brought her here.”

“What about that night with the sweet, unforgettable earplug remark?”

“Really? Unforgettable? Why do you insist–?” He growled low under his breath, shaking his head a little. “Whatever. Never mind. That was a different woman. I hadn’t even met Maya yet. Sam was exaggerating– per usual. I haven’t been seeing her since I moved here. I saw her briefly. . . from mid-June to, like, mid-July.”

“You continued seeing her after Baby’s?”

“I didn’t think you wanted me,” he clarified. “And I was an idiot. She was a woman who wanted to have sex with me, and I like sex. I was just being stupid.”

“That’s probably all I am to you, though,” you said, making him aware of your surmise. His face said he wanted to insert something, but you kept talking. “I’m just someone you can have sex with– because you like sex. Which, I do, too. But I just. . .,” you swept two feather light hands through your hair. “I don’t know why I want it to be more. But I do and . . . that’s going against everything I said. . .and I. . .” You closed your lids and groaned, irritated with your heart.

The fingers were under your chin again, your eyes opening to look at him at the contact. “Because it feels so natural being more. I get it. It’s not bad.”

“Yes it is,” you said, tearing your face away from his hand. “Because you don’t want that with me. I saw how she interacted with you after her lesson the other day. At the festival. I mean, you invited her to the festival. She was backstage with you. . . acting like a girlfriend or some shit the whole damn time. And then when she ran for you when you were upset. . .acting like she had done it a thousand times.”

“Well, she hasn’t. . .” he affirmed, his voice hard and leaving no room for disagreement. “And, yes, she is sweet and I liked having sex with her because she’s a good person who helped me a lot during a hard time with some much needed pep talks. . . but everything at the festival was her taking too much upon herself. Also, she invited herself to that. I didn’t invite her. And when she got there, Sam saw her and had her come backstage. I don’t know why he’s so insistent on hooking us up again.”

Oh.

He continued. “Y/n. . . I don’t know how else to say it. Anyway I say it, I feel like you won’t believe me. But– god, she’s just not you. I would never be able to feel the things for her that I do for you. It was– I emphasize, was– just sex with her; but with you? It's been. . .it’s more. You are more. I can’t explain it. . .my heart aches for you in ways it never did with her—with anyone.”

His velvet voice sent a flutter to your heart. You heard the genuine truth behind it, and the way his eyes never once left yours. His eyes, that said so much more than his words ever could. 

“I don’t want her. I want you. At my shows. In my bed every night and every morning, waking me with your mouth or your sweet pussy. . .I just—goddammit. Fuck. I fucking love you, y/n. I love you. No one else.”

Your next words couldn’t have been stopped if you tried. 

“I love you too,” fell smoothly from your lips, like the purest golden honey.

He stopped—his reddened, heavy eyes zeroing in on yours. He gave a tiny shake of his head.

“Y–you do?”

You couldn’t believe your own words. Really. Well. . .could you? They’d slipped from your lips so easily, with no time to overthink them, like you always seemed to do. Because you didn’t have to think about it– you couldn’t overthink that—because it was true. It came out so naturally, so authentically, just as it was. You hadn’t even realized you felt it yet; you hadn’t given yourself the chance to fully feel it—but there was no doubt. You did. You couldn’t hide it from yourself any longer. 

His blown out irises penetrated yours—the eyes that confirmed everything he’d just told you to be completely true.

“Jesus, Jake. Of course I fucking do.”

Who moved first, you’d never know.

But your lips met his with unbridled need. You moaned at the feeling of his soft lips enveloping yours. . . the way he sucked your mouth gently into his own– tasting you with the tip of his tongue as he did so. When you moaned again, he pushed you back with his hips, a hand gripping one of yours. You grabbed his ass tightly as if to hang on, never wanting to let go of him. The only place to go was your room, your door ajar just enough that it opened easily on its own. He reached a hand behind him to close it gently– so as not to wake anyone. 

Your lamp, still left on, just as it had been earlier in the evening, shed the perfect amount of golden light. You grabbed his cheeks, pulling him away from you momentarily to appreciate his features. Finally out of the dark you could look at him. And, God, you loved his face. Everything about it, having been so intricately and delicately created. . .making the most beautiful man you’d ever laid eyes on. 

A quiet smirk graced his perfect lips, his eyes tightly locked with yours. “What’s the matter?” he asked, his hushed, now-sultry voice making your need for him that much more heightened. 

You thought a moment before you answered. With all of your feelings for him finally becoming realized in your own mind, there was just so much you felt you needed to say. So much you needed him to know. As you stared in his sparkling eyes, pupils pure black from the weed and his need for you, the only word your mind could conjure up was love. Over and over again. Not just the word, but the feeling; the new desire for him that went far beyond the purely physical one that you’d tried so hard to convince yourself of. 

But it wasn’t new; it had been clear all along. You’d just shoved it down to the deepest trenches of your mind, only to be discovered by the most skilled explorer. There was so much you wanted to say, but you just couldn’t conjure the proper words. For once, you’d been left nearly speechless by your intense infatuation for him that you had finally allowed yourself space to fully realize. 

You decided your body could do all the talking. It could say more than your voice ever could.

“Nothing,” you whispered against his lips as you pulled him in for the deepest kiss you’re certain the two of you had ever shared with one another.

He led you backwards to your bed, your lips staying connected the entire time. With hardly any effort, he swiftly scooped you up and placed you on the bed, his lips only leaving yours to attach to your neck to suck on the tight flesh. His fingers toyed with the strap of your top, teasing it slowly down your shoulder. His mouth followed it with wet, barely there kisses on your skin with each movement down your arm. He then moved to the other arm, doing the exact same thing as his mouth began setting your whole body alight. 

He was taking his time. He wanted to enjoy every part of your body, savoring you in ways he always had but this time, it was different. His need was far beyond just wanting to fuck you; he wanted to love you. 

He dragged his lips across your collarbone, moving to the middle of your chest, then taking the fabric still covering you between his teeth as he pulled a little. 

“Take this off,” he whispered, “need to taste these pretty tits.” 

You groaned, wasting no time removing the barrier. You tossed it across the room with such eagerness you should’ve been embarrassed. But you weren’t. Couldn’t be. Not when he was displaying the same eagerness to please you, to feel your body against his own.

He flattened his tongue over a hard bud, slowly dragging it up until the tip flicked your nipple before he closed his lips around it and sucked. He swirled his tongue around, lifting off of it with a string of saliva that still connected him to you as he blew cold air on it. He tweaked it with his fingers, rolling it between his index and thumb as he moved to the other breast to give it the same attention. 

“Jake— fuck. It feels so good.” You were breathing so heavily that your breathless words just barely broke through your parted lips. 

But he heard you. And he smiled in retort against your chest as he continued lapping and sucking at you, using his teeth to graze your nearly too sensitive nipple. You were already nearing your break, feeling the pulsing between your legs keeping up with the erratic beating of your heart. 

He grabbed both your breasts, pushing them together and licking one long and steady stripe up the middle where his strong hands connected them. 

“Goddamn,” He spoke against your skin; you felt every word from his lips across your supple flesh. “I will never get enough of these, baby. So fucking perfect.” 

As good as he was making you feel, you were becoming increasingly more desperate. You needed him in your pussy. His mouth, his fingers, his cock. Fucking anything. You were throbbing for him. You weaved your trembling hands through his tangled hair, trying to guide him the rest of the way down your body. 

“Jake, please. I need you.” Your labored breathing made it incredibly hard to be able to form a single coherent word. 

He giggled as he made his descent down your heaving belly, stopping to plant an open mouthed kiss over your belly button as your body shuddered almost uncontrollably. 

“Easy, baby,” he said between leaving kitten licks just above the waistband of your leggings. “You know I’ll give you what you want. Don’t I always? Just let me take my time with you– need to worship this glorious fucking body.” 

Your heart swelled at his words. He thought your body was deserving of being worshiped. Who were you to rush him? And he was right. He was always the most generous lover, never stopping until you were fully satisfied with everything you needed. He pulled your leggings down just a little, enough to expose your hip bones and the top of your purple lace thong. He sucked a dark mark on the tight skin of your hip, sending a flood to your already soaked core as you gasped so loud you reached your hand up to cover your gaping mouth. 

“Let them hear,” he groaned as he smiled. “They’re in our fucking place, aren’t they? If they don’t like it, they can leave.” 

Our place. 

Those words that had once felt so poisoned, that would have made you cringe at the mere sound of them— they suddenly felt so right as they comfortably glided off his tongue that was caressing you wonderfully.

Though, you weren’t quite ready for them to know about this. . . Despite your ever-present fear of Josh finding out, there was just something about it only being between you and Jake. Especially now, the way it felt so sacred and special. Just the two of you. No one else. No one. 

Before you could tell him you absolutely did not want them to hear, he tested you a bit further by pulling your leggings off in one swift motion and planting his lips directly on your vibrating clit, still tucked away beneath the purple lace. With how he had perfectly worked you up, you were already so sensitive. You jolted at the contact, nearly screaming “fuck!” into your open palm as the sensation had been heightened in brand new ways. 

“Normally I’d say purple is the most offensive hue,” he ran his middle finger up and down the wet lace, applying a feather light pressure— just enough to have you squirming under his touch. “But you make it look so goddamn magnificent. So fucking beautiful.”

“Fuck Jake. . .” You started bucking your hips up, chasing anything he would give you. 

“I know baby, I know,” he hushed. “I just love seeing you like this. So ready for me, your panties clinging to you. I’m gonna lock that sight away.” 

He hooked his thumbs around the thin string of your thong and pulled it slowly down your hips. The pads of his fingers danced over the skin of your thighs while he rid you of the final hindrance keeping him from where you desired him the most. He lifted your legs over his shoulders as his tongue flicked just once at your swollen clit. You pulled tightly at his hair and he groaned at the feeling, sending a vibration against you as you tried with all of your best efforts to stay quiet.

He took a moment to admire the sight of you, how your trembling body practically begged him to touch you without the need for a single word. As if sensing it, he started leaving the most tender kisses on the inside of your thighs, inching himself closer and closer but never picking up his pace.

He was teasing you to the point of near madness. You were certain the sheets below you were soaked with your arousal. You could hardly stand it any longer. Your need for him had officially surpassed any you had ever felt for him before. 

“J-Jake, please. . .” 

He sucked a few more times on the tender flesh of your thigh before finally wrapping his wet lips around your neglected clit. As he did it, he looked up at your pleasure contorted face with eyes that smiled. You became nearly breathless at the sight of him combined with the feeling of his warm tongue caressing you, devouring you like a starved man enjoying his first meal. 

He pulled you as close to his face as he could with an iron grip on your hips. His eyebrows became creased as he hummed into your sopping and throbbing pussy. The carnal, lewd sounds of him sloppily lapping at you only added to the intensity you felt in the pit of your stomach. . .

. . .until he stopped— leaving you whimpering and squirming for more. 

“Look at me.” His soft, gravelly voice pulled you from your agony of missing his mouth on you, and you did as he said.

Your body shook as you lifted your head to meet his dark, sinful eyes that burned holes straight through yours. 

“You look so fucking beautiful,” he muttered. “And you taste so sweet, baby.” 

He smiled as he leaned down to place a gentle kiss just above your clit, keeping his eyes locked with yours. He lifted off of you and climbed up your quivering body, dragging his lips over any surface area of you he could reach until his nose brushed against yours.

“Jaaake. . .” You nudged your lips against his, feeling his warm breath melt into your skin. “. . .fuck me. Now.” 

He wanted to hear you say it; he needed to hear you say it. 

He lifted his hips up just enough for your wandering hand to reach down between your bodies. You cupped him tightly in your palm, feeling just how desperate he was to get out of the strenuous restriction of his black jeans. 

He hissed as your hand moved up and down his clothed length, teasing him just as he had with you. You reached up and cradled his face with your free hand, drawing patterns into his cheekbone with the pad of your thumb. 

You loved the hitch in his breath, his pleading eyes that begged you to take his jeans off. The sweat that had formed around his hairline. The torment in his eyes that all on their own could have sent you spiraling into the most beautiful release. God, he was so fucking pretty. 

You squeezed your hand around him, feeling him throb as his eyes rolled in the back of his head. He grit his teeth and bite his lower lip so hard you were surprised he didn’t draw blood. 

“Jesus— fuck,” he groaned, the rasp in his voice sending a another wave to core.

You wanted to tease him further, but your own body couldn’t take it any longer. 

You dug into the buckle of his belt and ripped it off of him in one fluid motion, you both gasping at the ‘snap’ sound it made when you pulled it out of the loops of his pants. With one hand, you released the metal button and pulled the zipper of his fly down in record time. Your fingers instantly intertwined with his boxers, reaching inside for his pulsing cock.

“A bit eager, are we?” he patronized, but you knew damn well he needed it as badly as you did. 

“Shut the fuck up, Jacob.”

He huffed a laugh as he aided you in pulling his jeans and boxers down to sit in the middle of his thighs, finally freeing him all the way. 

You wanted to taste him, but the ache in your pussy was far too great to go any longer without him filling you. You wrapped your legs tightly around his hips to angle yourself perfectly with him as he lined himself up with you. Both of his hands settled on either side of your face as he pulled you into a fervid kiss while the tip of his cock nudged your quivering entrance.

He kissed down your jawbone, your neck, pulling your earlobe gently between his teeth. 

“I fucking love you. . .” he purred against your ear, plunging his cock slowly inside of you as he said it. “. . . and god, do I love fucking you.”

You groaned in utter relief when he thrust himself completely inside of you, as deep as he could go. He was still for a moment, feeling your walls clench around the pulsing of his cock. 

“Fuck, Jake. . .” You pulled at the sweat drenched hairs sitting on the nape of his neck while the nails of your other dug into the soft flesh of his hip. 

“I know, baby. . . I feel you. So wet and warm, pulling me in. I fit so well, don’t I?”

You couldn’t even respond to tell him how fucking good he felt buried inside of you. Words had escaped you entirely.

You weren’t sure if it was the weed or if it was because you were finally letting yourself feel everything you’d shoved down for far too long, but the way he felt sitting inside of you was ineffable; he was right. He fit so goddamn well. He had to have been made for you. Fuck. You’d let him stay inside of you for the rest of your life if you could. 

He started pumping in and out of you at a slow pace— you could feel every vein of his thick shaft against your walls as he glided so effortlessly through you. Pulling all the way out to the tip, then back in again, perfectly brushing that wonderful spot within you each time as you felt every inch of him.

He gradually quickened his thrusts, his breaths becoming more and more deep with every calculated movement of his hips. Both of your hands reached behind him to grasp ahold of his back, feeling the muscles beneath your fingertips flex while he fucked himself into you with more intensity. 

“Fuck, baby,” you moaned, clawing at his skin, damp with perspiration from his efforts and the wonderful effects of the weed. You were desiring to feel him as close to you as you possibly could. You were about to finish–you could feel it. Teetering on the edge of sweet relief. . . your walls were fluttering, your clit was pulsing. . . 

The wound-up ball of tension in your tummy was about to let loose. 

His thrusts were getting desperate, his pants and sighs were mixing with yours. And you couldn’t help but look between you, where your bodies met. . . it made your heart beat even more rapidly in your chest, seeing you connected in such a way. It looked so right. You felt full. You felt whole. In your haze, your thoughts couldn’t help but wander as you thought of the final step to feeling close to him. 

Fuck.

As soon as the thought entered your brain, you had to throw your head back in ecstasy. It was almost too much to imagine. 

Your mind was so fucking cloudy– nothing sounded better in that moment than to feel him fully. His release inside of you. . .it would join your bodies completely. And God, you wanted that.

Needed it. And you knew this time might very well be the last. And you had to feel him in that way. Just once. You’d get a Plan-fucking-B in the morning. It would be so incredibly worth it to feel him in that way. 

Just this once. This one last time. It would be the perfect ending to this beautiful chapter of my life, you thought, longing for things to be different. 

“Shit– y/n,” Jake’s voice was needy as he rasped. “You feel so damn good. Fuck. So tight. So wet– smooth as fuckin’ velvet–,” he snapped his hips, the tip of his dick met your tender spot. It was even more tender under the influence– everything was heightened. “Fuck!”

You shook with anticipation, your legs already twitching. And you hadn’t even cum yet. 

“I know, Jakey,” you sighed. You reached a hand down his back, grasping at his firm ass. You held tightly to the plush muscle. It flexed with each push of his hips against you. “Y’feel so good.”

One hand and a forearm was balancing him above you. The hand of the forearm had been tenderly holding your head for the entirety of him fucking you into your mattress. But the other hand that he’d been using for balance moved swiftly to place two fingers below your chin. As he guided your face to look at him, you sighed with relief at the sight of his beautiful eyes– speaking every emotion he wanted to say. 

You felt it with him. Every fucking bit of it. 

His brows were concentrated, pinched with thought and overflowing emotions. 

“I know, sweetie. I feel it, too,” you gasped on the last words. Tears were choking your throat. You didn’t want this to end. But, even now, you knew it had to. Fuck– you wished like hell that you could keep him. But you couldn’t. 

Josh’s words swirled through your mind.

“Now is not the time to be getting involved with anyone.” 

“You know better, Jake. And you know that now is the time to focus on yourself rather than a woman– focusing on anything besides this monumental time in your life could hurt you.”

You knew Josh was correct. You couldn’t be the thing to distract him to the point of him abandoning this dream. 

 “Can you just fucking look out for yourself—just a little bit?” He’d pleaded, his voice breaking a bit. 

Just like your heart now. 

“I just don’t want to see you get hurt again. . . I would just really appreciate it if you cared about yourself the way you deserve.”

You feared he couldn’t do it for himself. Look out for his best interest. If he hadn’t been able to do it before with Amelia, what would stop him from giving himself the short end of the stick for you, too?

And you had to take into consideration how quickly you’d been destroyed by running to any and every conclusion about Maya. . . You could not handle something like this. Emotionally, it was too much for you at this point in your life. Pushing all of the thoughts away, you decided to just let yourself have this time with him. He was everything you wanted, and at this moment you were going to let yourself have him.

Bringing yourself back to the present, you gazed into his irises. But before you could lose yourself further, he shook his head, looking down between the two of you. 

Your brow furrowed in response, and you reached the hand that was still holding his back, up to cup his cheek, lifting his head in the process. When he looked at you again, his eyes were shining. 

Dammit, Jake, you thought, wistful. 

You felt tears prick your own ducts. Your thumb swept across the soft skin and the faint beauty mark that adorned his cheek. Fuck, he was beautiful. You bit your lip, then hushed your next words, repeating your earlier statement. “I know.”

He went to look down again, but your hold was firm on his face. “Look at me, Jake,” you begged. “Watch me.”

He pressed his face into your hand, his eyes shutting for a moment. A singular tear made its way to your chest. He cleared his throat, opening his eyes. He kept them on you, never wavering and following your instructions. His hips continued with their languid movements, his cock never exiting you. But, suddenly, as you felt your walls constrict him again, his slow movements became quicker, desperate. You wanted to throw your head back, completely overtaken with lust. But you kept your eyes trained on his. 

You had to see him finish. . . see his face. You’d never let yourself watch him, subconsciously fearing the intimacy of witnessing it. But you had to see it now. . .just once.

“Stay with me, Jake,” you pleaded, your voice hitching with each hard pump of his dick. He briefly closed his eyes again, and fearful of missing him, you coached him back to you. “Look into my eyes.”

You gasped the last part, the sensation of him throbbing and twitching inside of you, the fullness of his dick filling you completely. 

More.

He whimpered, his Amber-brown eyes, heart wrenching and warm as they stayed locked with yours. “I can’t– I’m gonna– I’m–,” he choked out. His movements slowed, and he went to pull out. But you stopped him, your hand holding tight to his soft, round ass. He looked back at you, quirking an inquisitive, urgent brow. You felt your legs quiver, your heat clenched around him as your clit twitched with need. 

So close. Fuck. 

His eyes rolled, his lids shutting with the feeling. He bit his pink lip. His lips, still swollen from your kisses and shiny from your release. The butterflies in your stomach started fluttering ferociously, the familiar feeling overtaking you as your body trembled– your nerves humming. 

You were about to finish. And you had to do it with him. 

Completely. 

“Y/n,” he gasped, warning you. “I’m going to fucking cum.”

You felt his cock pulse inside of you, confirming his words. 

“I know,” you said, for the third time. “But I need to feel you. I want you to finish inside of me.”

His eyes bugged. “Y/n– fuck. No. No. You are under the influence. You don’t want–.”

You felt your chest flare with irritation at his words. “Jake, I swear to fuck,” you whined, your eyes shutting as one particular nudge of his cock against your folds pushed you nearly over the edge. “Please, Jake. Please, baby. I promise you won’t be taking advantage or some shit. I need it. Please. Let me have it. Just this one time.”

Let our last time be special, you thought. You tried to let your eyes echo your thoughts, willing him to understand. 

He seemed to, because his next words were less apprehensive– an air of eagerness and an air of excitement painting his tone with his next words. “Are you sure?”

“More than sure,” you reassured, smoothing your thumb across his sharp cheekbone. 

And with one last buck from his hips, your clit twitched and your legs turned to Jell-o. All composure was lost–shuddering and heart chanting his name. Then, with a final groaned growl, his eyelids drooped, and his irises hazily watched you. His mouth relaxed to an ‘o’ shape, just the same as it did when he played his beloved instrument. You felt the glorious feeling of his release, as he spilled warm and plentiful inside of you. 

“Jaaaake,” you moved your hips up against him, wanting to feel and catch every last bit of him. “Yes, baby– yes.”

Dammit– until this moment, you hadn’t realized just how badly you needed this. 

You could punch yourself with the anger you felt at ending things with him. But it was for this exact reason. The emotions you were feeling (that you knew he was also feeling), as he slumped against you, thick shaft slowly softening inside of you. . .his head balanced on your shoulder as your fingers lazily played with his gorgeous, growing locks. . . 

It wasn’t uncomplicated. It was more than it was ever meant to become. It wasn’t what you had agreed to in the slightest. This was turning into a relationship. And you were not about to squander his career with any sort of distraction. You refused to get in the way of his career. 

So, when he finally pulled out of you –and you felt the remnants of his seed slipping from between the folds of your fulfilled cunt– you reminded yourself.

Plan B. 

And as you dozed off, after he’d cleaned you so delicately, with him spooning you from behind, his firm chest meeting your relaxed back. . . you swore you wouldn’t forget. 

Plan B in the morning.

-🌼🌼🌼-

a/n: hope to see you back for part 2 TOMORROW!! 🖤

ty for being the best readers in the world and pleaseee never hesitate to send in your wonderful thoughts!

& as usual, it wouldn’t let me tag some of y’all. :( so please check to see that you’re down there because if you’ve asked to be on the taglist, i tried to tag you. buuuut tumblr wouldn’t let me do it for everyone 🙃 ugh. and if i somehow forgot to tag someone, please also let me know that! (i'm a NOOB and i have terrible memory)

Taglist: @joshym, @gretavanfleetposts, @alyson814, @fretaganvleet, @lallisonl, @writingcold, @gvfpal, @twinszka, @jessicafg03, @reesetrippingthelight, @sacredjake, @laurenlovesgretavanfleet, @gretavangroove, @222headedcalf, @dreamssingold, @carbondancingthroughtime, @raviolilegs, @way-to-go-lad, @jakekiszkasmommy, @katgvf, @objectsinspvce, @jaketlover, @vanfleeter, @thetroublegetssloud71, @seditabets, @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface, @jaketlove, @ohgodthefeeling-gvf, @starcatcher-jake, @anythingforjtk, @lucimoo, @indigostreakmorgan, @gretavanbear, @katelynn-gvf, @alwaysonthemend, @aintthatapity, @bowievanfleet, @fwzco, @takenbythemadness, @cherry-icecreamsmile, @laneygvf, @hi-hi-hello11, @sinarainbows, @jakesbarbarian, @mybussyinchrist, @becinabubblegvf, @heckingfrick, @danigvf, @pinkandsleepy1934, @derrangeddumpsterfire, @klarxtr, @josh-iamyour-mama, @abby-gvf, @cassyface, @gretavansabotage, @torniturntomyarrow, @joshsbonnet, @llrosee, @starshine-gvf, @itsafullmoon, @gvfmarge, @creadliz98, @mackalah, @lek-gvf

[blitzyn]

payback pt.2

venti's gnosis x m!reader

request : none

Synopsis: Despite your mind's protests, your body craved something different.

first part

a/n -> technically this isnt a reader x anyone but its ventis gnosis so... i dont know how to feel about this tbh but i wouldnt say im ashamed LMAO. this suggestion actually reminds me of a childe x m reader fic i read a while ago. i dont remember much but reader was the hydro archon i think and childe fucked the shit out of him lol. and put readers gnosis inside him and took it then left. really shitty description but i cant find it anymore :( lets ignore the fact that using ventis gnosis - or any at all - would hurt pls

wc -> 1.6k

cw -> improper use of a gnosis??, anal fingering, masturbation, harbinger reader, not beta read

You hadn't done much after you boarded the large boat that would send you back to Snezhnaya. You spent most of your time asleep within the confines of your designated room. There wasn't much, but it was definitely better than nothing.

You stared at the ceiling in boredom. There was no current use for you, so you had no way of spending your time. That was one of the things you disliked about being a Harbinger. You were rarely able to develop or pursue hobbies and interests outside your field of work, so when you had free time, you were always unsure of what to do.

You usually resorted to helping one of the others if they needed it (if they were around) - minus Dottore, Sandrone, and Pierro. Tsaritsa knows you would never understand what they do. But you're by your lonesome, now. So it's just you and your thoughts.

You swallowed hard when you thought back to a few days prior to your departure. You tried hard to recall something else, but the memory seemed to persist. With the disadvantage of having nothing to keep you occupied, you were given no choice but to remember the event that took place in Windrise.

Goosebumps littered your flesh at the recollection of the barrage of sensations forced upon your body. The fresh air, the chilled stone against your back, the warmth of the Anemo Archon's body close to yours...

You could feel your face heating up when you remembered the ecstasy he made you feel. In shame or arousal, you didn't know.

You loudly groaned and hid your face within your hands, completely contrasting your professional title as a Harbinger. The memory seemed to appear more vividly the harder you tried to forget about it, which left you in a state of lust and confusion. Pleasure dropped in your stomach like a rock when you slowly began to succumb to the memory's hold.

You dragged a hand down your torso as you let it play over and over again, tentatively placing a hand over your hardening cock to give it a light squeeze. A sigh left your lips as you gently palmed yourself through your clothes, relishing in the mild waves of pleasure that coursed through you.

You rubbed yourself for a few moments longer before you began to crave something more, though you took your time removing the bottom half of your clothes. You were a bit surprised to see a small wet patch already forming through the fabric of your boxers. Maybe the god was right. You must've enjoyed it more than you admitted.

The thought sent the heat of irritation into your chest, making you furrow your eyebrows and grind your teeth. But you had something to deal with at the moment. You could dwell in your anger another time.

You let out a shaky exhale as you finally began to stroke your dick, gathering droplets of precum to make it smoother. It throbbed fervently in your hand, hips lightly jutting upwards. You used your other hand to massage and squeeze your balls.

You subconsciously bit your lip when you began to release quiet grunts and moans. Although you knew the walls were made of the sturdiest and thickest wood in Snezhnaya, you didn't want to risk letting others know what you were doing.

You brought up your other hand and placed two fingers in your mouth to suck on them. Deeming them wet enough, you took them out and hesitantly prodded at your hole. You weren't lying when you said that you've never been the one to be fucked before. But this lack of knowledge wasn't enough to deter you from continuing.

It was a strange sensation now that you were given enough time to actually process it. You were slightly expecting the same burn from before, but was pleasantly surprised to find out that there was none. Slowly, you began moving your fingers in a steady rhythm, getting used to the feeling.

You accidentally let out a loud moan when your fingers brushed up against a small bump, a shock of pleasure running through your body. You continued to press up against it while jerking yourself off. You moved your hands faster, trying to raise yourself up to your orgasm, but you were unable to push yourself over the edge.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, you momentarily paused. You needed to get rid of your erection before the ship docked. You couldn't just leave it and hope that it goes down on its own, and you were far too into this to ignore it.

You looked around your room. There wasn't anything that could help you reach your orgasm.

Slightly turning your head to the left, your eyes were met with the teal Gnosis you had stolen. You pursed your lips and contemplated your next move.

"Fuck it," you lowly muttered and reached for the item. Holding it by the crown, you spat on your free hand and smeared your saliva over it. Before you could give yourself time to think about what you were doing, you began pushing it inside you.

The details on the Gnosis heightened your pleasure, relishing in the way it dragged against your insides. You stroked your cock, rubbing a thumb over the head to spread your precum. You sighed when you finally managed to get it all the way inside you – save for the crown part.

Opening your legs just a bit wider, you pulled it out of you just to push it back in, setting a comfortable pace. You sped up your other hand, the mix of erotic squelching and quiet slaps reverberating through the room.

The familiar heat in your abdomen intensified with each passing second. Your back arched in ecstasy and a sensation akin to electricity ran up and down your spine. Momentarily peering down at the Gnosis, you faintly questioned if the god could feel what you were doing. It was highly unlikely, but one could wonder.

You shifted your wrist holding the item, and it suddenly felt like fire was rushing through your body. You bit your lip harder and heavily breathed through your nose and continued your assault against your prostate. It was hard trying to keep quiet, and you think you would've let your voice out if it weren't for the fact you had your status to uphold and pride to keep.

You could feel your body tensing the closer you got to your orgasm, moving the slightest bit faster.

You were so close. Just a few moments more, and –

"Lord Harbinger," someone said from behind the door. "We will be arriving in an hour."

You ignored them in hopes they would leave it at that, but they seemed to be concerned with your lack of answer.

"My Lord?"

You knew you should've stopped to reply, but you opted not to. Not when you were already so close. Your cock throbbed fervently in your hand, weeping copious amounts of precum for you to rub your palm and thumb over.

It was exhilarating. Knowing that the one behind the door could be persistent enough to possibly hear what you were doing. If they ever did find out, they would no doubt tell their friends and start the wildfire of rumor.

You nearly choked on your spit when your orgasm finally washed over you. You continued to stroke your dick to ride out your high, your cum spurting over your abdomen and hand. You tightened considerably around the Gnosis and found it difficult to move it any further.

"Is everything okay in there?"

You thought they left, already. An annoyed huff left your lips as you rolled your eyes. Pulling the item out of you, you tossed it somewhere on the bed and cleaned yourself with a handkerchief.

The person jumped in surprise when you flung the door open.

"Don't speak to me as if we're friends," you said. A mix of fear and surprise contorted their face as they nodded vigorously.

"My deepest apologies," their voice was weak. "I just wanted to tell you that we will–"

"I heard you."

"Right. Well, then..." they trailed off. With a rushed bow, they hurried away.

You closed the door and turned around to face the bed. You sat down on it and ran a hand through your hair. Now that the overwhelming feeling of lust dissipated, you were overtaken with shame and guilt. You deeply questioned why you would ever do such a thing. Especially when you had to turn it in to Her Majesty.

You grabbed the Gnosis and examined it. It was still slick with your fluids.

You wondered if this was considered very disrespectful as you wiped it with the clean part of your handkerchief. Oh, well. It's not like you're going to see him again any time soon.

Rising from the bed, you put your thick fur coat on and hid the Gnosis within it. The frigid air of Snezhnaya was biting and unforgiving, but years of living in this weather heightened your tolerance for it. You traversed the cold boat in search of a restroom, swiftly entering one when you found it.

You thoroughly scrubbed the Gnosis with your fingers under the freezing water. They were numb by the time you decided it was clean. You dried it off on your coat and stared at yourself in the mirror.

Now you really couldn't let anybody know about this.

cross-posted on ao3

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for arguing with someone over ships?

🧀⛵ so i can find this later

Yes, this is ship discourse AITA #294729472 you can scroll away, english isn't my first language, my apologies.

So I (16M (But 13-14 at the time)) am in a very niche fandom. As in, we didn't have any new content for the past 5 years and media is old af (2013), very few fans, most of us know each other already.

I used to have these mutuals Cheese (Not their real name) (around my age i think?? I can't remember) and Breadstick (Not his real name) (18M).

We all had our little ships, ok? I like the little (dumbass golden retriever boy) x (badass traumatized man) ship, Cheese liked the little (badass traumatized man) x (literally the same thing but evil and abusive) and Breadstick liked both ships.

I met Breadstick before meeting Cheese so we were already friends before i met Cheese. I thought "Cool, another person likes this little niche thing i'm hyperfixated on!" So we became mutuals.

I didn't anticipate that we would argue about ships, but oh well. So, i'm a very chill person regarding ships, literally any, although i do have NOTPs, i'm not really toxic about my hatred, i just go "Ah, not my thing" and scroll away not without blocking the person, but really nothing personal and no hard feelings, i can perfectly be friends with someone who loves my notp.

In fact, that was the case with Cheese. They shipped my NOTP, like A LOT. But I was okay with it, i mean these are just characters and all we're doing is being silly. I didn't take this THAT seriously. However, when I seemed to talk about my ship, Cheese seemed uncomfortable in some way.

When I was talking about my fankid (call me cringe idc) of my OTP, Cheese got very confused and asked who was i talking about. Breadstick came in and introduced my fankid to them, since he knew about it before. Cheese just started being rude, literally saying swear words (Not against them but, the context didn't really call for it? No one was being mean or mad), saying, and i quote as best as i can, "I don't know what the fuck made you think i knew who the hell [Fankid] was".

I got very mad about it, so i privately dm'ed Breadstick about Cheese's attitude. We began trash talking about them, which, i admit was a very trashy thing to do and definitely asshole material™.

Reason why may i be the asshole: over time, Breadstick just started complaining a lot about Cheese, and I could honestly agree, it came to the point of us disliking them to some degree but not telling them and not breaking the mutual, that could be considered two faced behavior.

This was partly influenced because of another incident. So Cheese and Breadstick where rambling about an OT3 (3 person ship) they had in common, basically sharing ideas and stuff. I thought it would be fun and went "Hey, I have an OT3 too, maybe i should post about it too". So I went and posted about it, but Cheese felt very uncomfortable with that, since basically my OT3 was exactly like Cheese's OT3 but one character is different, "basically".

They said "You have your thing, let US have ours". Felt bad and honestly, maybe i shouldn't have intruded their ot3 rambling. I didn't expect such negative reaction out of them.

In other occasions they complained about me posting a little too much about my ship, even though they did the same thing with theirs. And they also had a mutual that said "If you ship [this character] you suck and i fucking hate you. [character] is too abusive to be shipped with anyone and you can't just make an AU, that would just change him as a character completely" which, dear god, that language wasn't needed, right?. And despite that crazy person saying that, Cheese agreed with their take, despite literally shipping the character in question with another one. And abusively too, which like you do you, lord knows i do that too, but agreeing with a take like that while doing exactly what it is complaining about is weird. On the other side, that person wasn't my mutual, so it's unrealistic of me to expect Cheese to control their mutuals over me, Cheese can mutual whoever they want, but i can still be weirded out right?

That is without including them telling other people to kill themselves over shipping, so it was clear that Cheese took this shipping thing seriously while me and Breadstick to some degree didn't. Honestly another reason why i might be an asshole, clearly they felt their otp was personal and me not liking it + ignoring it caused a bad environment, mala mía, but what else could i have done?

So, clearly Cheese is kind of an asshole to some degree. But i think what makes ME an asshole too is when I trash talked behind their back and cut them off way later than i should've. And also, i guess i shoved my ship down their throat taking by how mad they were about it? I didn't do it intentionally though and i could definitely say they did the same thing too when 80% of the fandom and character tags was them posting about their ship. Again, small niche fandom for old unpopular media, we are keeping it alive ourselves.

What are these acronyms?

[before-it-felt-like-a-sin]

What I Want

summary: you were flirting with everyone at the party for fun. Definitely not because you wanted to make a certain blonde jealous.

Warnings: mentions of hookups and slight angst (nothing nsfw), smoking and drinking mentioned.

-----------------------------------------------------

"God, Jackie. You're so right." You brushed your fingers across your friend's arm, internally praying that Natalie was watching you.

You and Nat had been hooking up for a while. Just casually, something that stemmed out of boredom. You weren't close enough for it to be awkward, but you obviously weren't strangers. It was the perfect situation.

Until it wasn't.

In the past month, you'd found yourself actually falling for her. It's like a switch had flipped, and you saw her completely differently. Her husky voice wasn't just sexy, it was cute. You felt emotional when you kissed. And you fucking hated it.

You didn't do dating, you didn't do feelings. And you knew Natalie felt the same. That's why it worked.

"Y/n, are you even listening?" Jackie asked, snapping you out of your trance.

"What?"

"Y/n, please. If you're not going to pay attention, I'll find someone else to talk to." She made a move to get up, and you just let her. Clearly, this flirting thing wasn't gonna work.

Although, maybe you shouldn't just flirt with Jackie. Maybe you should flirt with anyone. That would have to get her attention. Right?

It was worth a shot, at least. But you were gonna need another drink before you could fathom flirting with anyone but Nat.

Shit. You had to stop thinking like that. Tonight wasn't about Nat. Tonight was about getting over her. By possibly getting under someone else.

Either way, you needed another drink.

-----------------------------------------------------

As you danced to some pop song in the middle of Lottie's living room with Shauna, you felt eyes on you. You looked up to see Natalie staring at you with an unreadable look on her face.

Looking away, you tried to focus on the way your hips moved to the beat.

I want the fireworks

You put your hands on Shauna's hips and pulled her closer.

I want the chemistry

With that, the two of you were so close you could feel the heat radiating off her body. You moved your hips in time to the beat, forcing Shauna to do the same.

I want that girl right over there to wanna date me

You kept trying to ignore the lyrics of the song, kept trying to force whatever was happening with Shauna.

"I'm gonna get a drink! Do you want anything?" You yelled over the speakers. Shauna just shook her head in response

That's what I want, there's nothing wrong with what I want, yeah yeah

With that, you ventured to the kitchen and poured yourself another drink. You couldn't remember if this was your fourth or fifth. Didn't matter. You'd be fine.

When you looked up, Shauna wasn't alone anymore. Now Jackie had taken your place, her arms where yours were mere minutes ago. You couldn't be upset, not really. It's not like you wanted Shauna. Or Jackie.

The Vodka didn't burn your throat anymore, in fact you could barely taste it. You took another sip, trying to look busy. You hoped that someone else would approach you, so that you could go dance with them.

"Hey, y/n." A voice came from behind you.

You turned around to see it was Van, with an exhausted looking Taissa in tow.

"Hey. What's up?" Your words slurred a little, and Van seemed to take note of that, but she didn't say anything.

"We're gonna head out. Did you still need a ride?"

"Nah, I'm sure I'll find one. Or Lottie will let me stay the night." You took another sip from your cup, trying to maintain composure as best as possible. You didn't need Tai or Van trying to convince you to leave now. You were going to have fun tonight, goddammit.

"Are you sure? I don't know if that's the best idea."

"Can a girl not have fun anymore? You're not my mom." With that, you walked away. You'd probably have to deal with a pissed off van in the morning, but that wasn't drunk you's problem.

You heard Van say something as you walked away, but you didn't quite pick up on what it was. Again, wasn't your problem.

That's when you saw her. Natalie. Leaning up against the wall, no, being held up against the wall. All while some random boy kissed her. And she was into it. Pulling him closer. You could practically feel the heat radiating off of them from across the room.

Fuck. This was supposed to be your night. And somehow, Natalie had made your plan into hers. You hadn't made her jealous. She was making you jealous. Fuck.

You pushed your way through the crowd to the sliding doors that led onto the porch. Stepping out into the cool night air, you took a deep breath. No one was outside now, seeing that it was near freezing. You were shivering in your jeans and cropped sweater.

Patting your pockets, you found what you were looking for. You pulled out a lighter and a pack of Marlboro Reds. There were only two left. You grabbed one out of the package and brought it to your lips. As soon as it was between your teeth, you flicked the lighter, attempting to get it to light.

You were so focused on the lighter that you didn't hear the back door open.

"Need help with that?" Natalie's voice startled you, and you damn near dropped your lighter.

"No," you said, your cigarette still in your mouth.

"Are you sure? Because it looks like that isn't working very well for you," she responded, nodding to the lighter.

"Fuck off. I don't need your help." You continued flicking the lighter, but it still wasn't working.

Natalie, content to watch you struggle for a bit, just stood there. Finally, she seemed to take pity on you.

"Here, seriously, let me."

"Fine." At this point, you wanted the cigarette more than you wanted to act like you didn't care.

She walked over to you and pulled out a lighter. You, expecting her to hand it to you, stuck out your hand. Instead,she cupped the cigarette with one hand, and lit it with the other. You shivered at the closeness.

When she was finished, she took a step back from you.

"Thanks," you said, exhaling smoke.

"Well, it wasn't out of the goodness of my heart. I was hoping you'd share."

"I'm not giving you my last cigarette."

"We can share this one." She looked at you expectantly.

You took another drag, hoping that if you were quiet long enough, she'd leave you alone.

"Dude, what's your problem? You're being hella weird." So much for hoping she'd leave you alone.

"I'm not being weird. I don't want to share."

"No, you are being weird. You're not inside with everyone else, you've had like five drinks when you normally stop at two. You were dancing with Shauna. You didn't leave with Van and Tai, even though you should've because you're fucking wasted. You didn't let me help you. You were going to smoke alone, which is so unlike you. Seriously, what is your problem?" She seemed so exasperated. And a little bit hurt.

"What does it matter that I was dancing with Shauna. She's my friend."

"That wasn't a very friendly dance."

"But it wasn't weird of me to dance with her. She is my friend. And I can dance with who I want. And I can drink what I want. And I can leave when I want. You're not my fucking girlfriend, Nat. We're just hooking up. You made that pretty clear by practically eating that guy's face." You took another drag of your cigarette.

"Oh, so that's what this is. You're jealous."

"Yeah, Nat. I'm fucking jealous. Because we've been hooking up for a month, yet you never even look at me unless we're alone. And I'd be fucking stupid, a fucking idiot to catch feelings, but I did. So yeah. I'm jealous. But that doesn't matter to you. Because we're just hooking up."

When Natalie didn't respond, you took that as your cue to leave. As you turned to leave, your eyes filled with tears, and you prayed they wouldn't spill over. You didn't know where you were going, you just knew you had to leave. You couldn't be at this party, couldn't be here with Nat.

It hit you that you didn't have a ride when you had made it about halfway through Lottie's giant house. Which meant you had to walk home. In the cold. Without a coat. While drunk.

At least Natalie wouldn't be there.

-----------------------------------------------------

It was fucking cold.

You didn't think it would be this bad when you left Lottie's. But it was cold. And you were tired. And it was dark. And your feet hurt. And you forgot your headphones.

The sound of a car engine pulled you out of your trance.

"Y/n, what the fuck?" Natalie pulled up next to you in her beat-up little car.

"I'm not talking to you."

"You don't have to. But you're not walking anywhere this late. Get in."

"No."

"Fine then. But I'm not going to leave you until you get home. And at least you'll be warm in the car."

"Leave me alone." You just kept walking. But true to her word, Natalie crept along with you.

"No."

"I don't want to talk to you. Or even look at you."

"You made that pretty clear when you just walked away earlier."

"Then why do you not seem to understand that?"

"God fucking dammit, y/n! Get in the car!" She was pissed now.

"I don't want your pity."

"It's not pity. Do you know how pissed Van would be if you got kidnapped because I didn't drive you home?"

"Oh, so you're not doing this because you want to do it."

"That's not what I said. You're twisting my words. Please, y/n, just get in the damn car. We don't have to talk. We can sit in silence. But just get in."

You were tired of fighting with her. Plus, your feet were really starting to hurt.

"Fine."

"Thank you."

She put the car in park, and you walked over to the passenger side. You opened the door and got in. Once you were buckled, she put the car in gear and started driving.

For the whole drive, the two of you sat in silence, the only sound coming from the radio. When she pulled into your driveway, she got out of the car with you.

"What are you doing?" You asked.

"Well, you're drunk as hell. And neither of your parents seem to be home. So."

"You don't need to baby me."

"Maybe I just don't want to go home."

You walked to the front door, hoping that she'd just leave you alone. But she didn't. She kept walking with you, and when you walked into your house she walked in after you.

"Why are you here, Nat? Really," you asked.

"Do you want the real answer?"

"Obviously."

"I'm trying to prove to you that you're not just a hookup to me."

You scoffed. "Yeah, right. Funny, considering what you were doing earlier."

"I was jealous. Jealous of Shauna. Jealous of Jackie. I wanted you to see me. So that you wanted me."

"Don't mess with me, Nat. It's fine, okay? I shouldn't have even said anything. You don't need to be here." With that, you turned to walk up the stairs, and promptly tripped over your own feet.

At the sight of you on the ground, Natalie let out a small laugh. But when she saw the tears in your eyes, she immediately walked over to you.

"Hey, y/n, it's fine. You're okay. Let's get you to bed." She grabbed both of your hands and pulled you up.

When she wrapped her arm around your waist to keep you upright, you didn't protest. You were just so damn tired, and you weren't sure if you'd be able to make it up the stairs by yourself.

After what felt like hours, you finally made it to your bedroom. It took all your strength not to just lie down on the floor and fall asleep there. Instead, Natalie led you to your bed and sat you down. She then started undoing the laces on your boots and taking them off for you.

"Why are you doing this? I've been nothing but a bitch all night."

"Because I like you, y/n. And I like spending time with you. Even if you are a bitch." With that, she finished pulling your shoe off and sat on the bed next to you. "Do you know why I started hooking up with you in the first place?"

"I assumed because I was there, and a little bit to piss Jackie off."

Nat laughed at that. "It wasn't that. Although pissing Jackie off was a bonus. But I hooked up with you because I thought you were cool. More than that, even. I wanted to date you. But you always had the whole 'hookups only' mentality."

"Yeah, but so did you," You add, a little confused.

"Oh, I'm not judging you. It's just that it's hard to have feelings for someone who is so opposed to dating. And since I only wanted you, I mean, I decided hookups could be for me too."

"Oh fuck off. Don't lie to me."

"Is it that hard to believe that I could want you?" She looks into your eyes as she asks that, as if trying to look straight into your soul.

"No comment. I'm going to bed." You could tell Nat wanted to press you, but she didn't. Instead, she got up off your bed.

"Where are you going?" You ask.

"Home? I mean you're going to bed. Why should I stay?"

"I thought you didn't want to go home. Plus, it's not safe for you to drive this late. Just stay. You can sleep here."

"If you don't care. That's fine."

"Clearly, I don't."

With that, you finally let yourself lie down. Getting comfortable, you buried yourself under your comforter and waited for Nat to come in with you. When after a few minutes, you still hadn't felt her crawl in next to you, you sat up.

"Are you going to come here?" You looked to see her lying on the ground.

"You're asking me to share your bed?" She responded.

"It's a king. Yes. I'm asking you to share. I know how big of a bitch you can be if you haven't slept right."

"Maybe I want to sleep on the floor."

"If you want to, be my guest. But I don't get why you would." You rested your head back on your pillow, acting as if you didn't care if she slept in your bed or not.

For a couple of minutes, it seemed like she really was going to sleep on the floor. Then you felt her familiar weight on the bed next to you.

"Goodnight."

-----------------------------------------------------

Three hours later, and you were still lying there, trying to fall asleep. Every move you made, you worried you'd wake Natalie up.

You look over at her, fast asleep. Her blonde hair was fanned out across the pillow, and her mouth hung open a little bit. Every so often she'd let out a soft sigh. She didn't look nearly as badass as she normally did. You'd never seen her like this before.

As slowly and gently as you could, you tried to get out of your bed. When you swung a foot over the edge, you felt her stir. You froze at the feeling, praying you hadn't woken her up.

"Y/n? What are you doing?" There went trying not to wake her.

"Nothing. I have to go to the bathroom. Go back to bed," you whisper in response.

She seems to be content with your answer and moves to go back to sleep. When she does, you get up off the bed so that you can make your way to the bathroom. You don't actually need to use it, but you didn't know what else to do.

For a few minutes, all you do is sit on the edge of the bathtub and think. Think about your night, think about Natalie. Think about how tonight, you were supposed to end up under someone else. Not next to the girl you wanted to make jealous.

But you did make her jealous. At least that's what she claimed. But you weren't sure. Natalie could literally have anyone that she wanted. Why would she choose you? The chubby lesbian who masked her feelings with an air of "I don't care".

God. This was confusing.

By now, it had been at least five minutes. Any longer and Natalie might think that something happened to you. Or that you were taking a shit. Honestly you didn't know which was worse. Either way, you moved to get up, bracing yourself on the cool ceramic of the bathtub.

When you made it back to your bedroom, Natalie seemed to have fallen back asleep. As gently as you could, you slid back into your spot on the bed. This time, though, you fell asleep almost immediately after lying down.

-----------------------------------------------------

You woke to sunlight streaming through your light green curtains, creating patterns on the wall and bathing the room in a pale sage light. For a moment, everything was perfect.

Until you realized that in your sleep, Natalie had rolled over so she was practically on top of you. There was no way you'd be able to get up without waking her.

"Nat... Natalie," you whispered, attempting to wake her gently. In response she did absolutely nothing.

"Natalie. Wake up." This time, you flicked her in the forehead.

She groaned and just buried her head closer into your shoulder, not seeming to realize what she was doing.

"Natalie, come on." It took her a few seconds, but this time she realized.

"Shit, y/n. Shit. Sorry." She immediately jumped away from you, and you shivered at the loss of contact. Her warmth had been nice.

"Don't worry about it. You were asleep. It's not your fault."

For a few moments, you both just remained in your bed, thinking. Neither of you spoke, until you could take it any longer.

"Did you mean what you said. Last night." You asked.

"Which thing?"

"About. I don't know. Having feelings for me?" Your voice was small, and you worried that you had imagined Natalie's words from the night before.

"What does it matter? I think you made it clear that you don't like me that way." She sounded hurt, and you hated that.

"I didn't say that. At all."

"Oh, so you're telling me that you like me, too?" Her tone was sarcastic, and you let out a breath at how mad she seemed.

"That's what I'm implying, yeah."

"What are you implying?"

"Do I really have to fucking spell it out for you?" Now it was your turn to be upset. Of course she was turning this into a game. Or course she was just making a joke of your feelings for her.

"Until you tell me what you want this to be clearly, I plan to act like I have no idea what you're talking about." She smirked at this, and it made your blood boil.

"Okay, Natalie. Fuck you. I'm done with this shit." You pushed yourself up off the bed and made your way to the door.

"Y/n, wait. I was just messing around."

"Yeah, messing around with my fucking feelings. Heaven forbid I have a crush on you. Heaven forbid you have any fucking decency. I get it. You aren't into me. That's fine. But don't make that more of a problem than it is."

This time, when you moved to open the door, you felt a hand close around your wrist. When you turned around, Natalie's face was inches from yours, your noses were almost touching.

"Nat-"

"Can I kiss you. Please."

Before you could even finish nodding, her lips were pressed against yours. Your hands moved to her waist, pulling her in closer, while hers cupped your face with a gentle touch you didn't know she possessed. She smelled like cigarettes, amber, and something you couldn't quite place. The mixture was intoxicating.

When she pulled away, a soft whine escaped your lips, and she grinned at the noise.

"Did that prove it to you, princess?"

"I don't know. We might have to try it again to really get it though my head."

She let out a small laugh at that and made a move to kiss you again, but before she could, your stomach growled.

"On second thought, maybe we should get breakfast."

[ivomartins]

I see many people consider Dmitry a redflag LI but to me he's a morally grey character: he finds a strange girl amidst the rift and assigns her a place in the squad instead of, you know, just taking Lane hostage when she's made it clear she's pursuing her own goals and only compels to the squad's decisions because she has to.

I understand why the interrogation episode is icky for many people but for me the devil is in details: Dmitry stops the interrogation because he doesn't want to hurt Lane further, and the whole situation can be seen as a necessary evil from the squad's pov, given Lane's actions. And at the same time, Lane doesn't deserve that shit either: she's all alone in a trust-no-one situation, and now she sees very clearly that the squad is not her friends.

To me that's what moral greyness is: different interpretations of the situation, when you can see motivation of both parties without whitewashing them.

Dmitry's conversation about turning your weakness into your strength adds another facet to his character, just like the stolen babushka gift 😭. I love the way Alexandra shows that he actually cares about Lane through him wanting to give her a chocolate bar or helping her with the work and sacrificing his sleep.

And the soulmatism of their branch is so well done. It's not "your mc is promised to this LI although you'd rather have her killed him in a cold blood" but "yes the situation we found themselves in is fucked up and bleak but at least we have each other because in another universe we'd pass each other by without looking back"

And I love how you can see Dmitry lashing out in the latest episodes, with more and more people in the squad dying, because he's responsible for their lives, he's the leader. And you, as a player, can choose Lane's reaction to his behaviour.

But the thing that truly made me sympathize with him is him telling Lane "It would be sad to lose my humanity while hunting for monsters and become one in other people's eyes. I hope I haven't cross that line yet?.."

That's how you write morally grey characters! 🙌

P.S. His latest CG fucks

i'm shook tbh that some people consider dmitry a red flag LI 😭 like yeah. the interrogation scene was iffy and lane didn't deserve that. but the world has literally gone to shit and this is a man who's been forced by circumstances to blur the lines of his morality for the greater good and the safety of the people around him ??? when we take that and the post-apocalyptic survival-of-the-fittest setting into consideration, plus the fact that lane was sus from day 1 and didn't really make any effort to prove herself trustworthy, the interrogation makes perfect sense

and like you said the morally grey nature to dmitry is the most interesting thing about him especially when it ties into the development of his bond with lane like !!!! with cain there's affinity in their position as outcasts and the apathetic nature they share, suspended above everything, untouched by what otherwise jars everyone else in the squad

but with dmitry their affinity lies in dmitry having a different nature to lane and still being drawn to her despite that, still accepting her to the point where she points a fucking gun at his head and he doesn't even flinch 😭 and doesn't even hold it against her later on like ??? there's so much devotion and unconditional acceptance to it and for me personally as someone who's on the whisper path it's definitely giving "the hero loving the monster and cherishing their blood-soaked hands" kinda dynamic

like it's "human" organic soulmatism like you called it, to balance out the otherworldly ambiguous soulmatism with cain. ugh i can't enough of it

i also love how he's been lashing out too and that not even lane has been exempt from that because he's just under that much pressure. i just adore how every single character has been written with their own role to play in the story, completely independent from lane, and they all get to develop just as much as she does as the story goes on 🥹

(and yes his cgs have been superior, even to cain, since day 1. i will die on that hill)

[jaennwrites]

hi there!!!!! can i get a scenario thingy where what happens if the reader has a crush on alejandro, ghost and soap? (Separately)

a/n: my first request (tee hee), but I hope this is fitting your ideal lore? I would be glad to make another one for the other two requested characters but I had to finally show Ghost some love considering I am like this currently because of him, TYTY 4 UR REQUEST!!!

summary: both you and ghost get injured on a mission so you decide to tell him how you feel. word count: 1,886 cw: completely sfw + gender neutral, little bit of profanity, mentions of injury, blood, and guns. (if there's anything else you feel a warning is needed feel free to let me know always.)

ofc all interactions are much appreciated :)

What could you say about Simon Ghost Riley?...other than the fact that you had the worst crush on him ever. It was embarrassing the amount of times you would  fumble over your words, drop things, and just overall act a fool because of his presence. Although you had to give yourself some leeway; Ghost was tall, mysterious, and really nice, which caught you off guard at first. 

The times he tightened your gear for you, fixed your form in various combat training, hell when you were partnered on missions he rarely ever let an enemy even get a chance to breathe the same air as you, but as much as you loved his military based care; it was the out of work “affections” that sold you.

The times you, Soap, and Ghost went to bars after long missions, he would force you to walk on the “inside” of the sidewalk, holding your various items, a gesture you never requested but always melted over. The cherry on top was the fact that no one ever had the audacity to even approach you, nights like these you often found your lovesick eyes examining his unassuming frame. 

Soap was the only one who knew of your “affliction” as he loved to call it; you’d gush and gush over the large skull man, talking his ear off about it all the time. It wonderfully brought you closer as teammates and friends, the thought of losing your trusted confidant was sickening to keep it simple. 

“Focus” Ghost spoke ripping you from your intimate thoughts 

“Sorry” You apologized focusing on the man in front of you 

You were currently on a mission with Ghost, obviously not the best time to be waltzing down memory lane but he brought out the illogical side of you. You closed your eyes mouthing a silent “thank you” that this wasn’t a terribly serious mission. It was a simple intel retrieval and currently you both were standing right next to what you needed to get. 

“This feels entirely too easy” You joked with a small laugh 

Before Ghost could even chime in, a gunshot hit you straight in your arm; if the person had aimed just a bit higher it would've hit you in your neck. As the pain fully set in, Ghost pulled you both behind the cover of a wall in which you slid down. 

“Fuck” He cursed bending down to look at your bleeding arm

“Don’t focus on me” You winced knowing that if he did then you’d both just die 

“Shut up” “Of course I'm gonna focus on you” He said sternly before lifting your injured arm 

You felt his large hands move carefully on the inside of your arm knowing exactly what he was looking for and what he wasn’t finding. 

“It didn’t go through” You sighed pushing yourself up with a pained huff 

“We need to get out of here” Ghost said while taking careful peeks past the wall

You used your uninjured hand to first secure your rifle on your good shoulder before removing your gun from your holster. He’d never admit it but Ghost didn’t want you fighting at all, the fear of you getting killed in this moment plagued his mind. What was worse was the fact that he knew you had to, and he had to as well, if you stayed here you would die for sure. 

He signaled you to stay behind the wall before he moved to a different cover, earning a shot from the mysterious gunman. You carefully peaked your head around the corner of the wall delivering a fatal shot to the man you saw. 

Your head turned to see what directions that Ghost had to give you but he was gone from the spot he was before. You carefully moved to his previous cover and then to another but still no sign of him. 

“Ghost?” You whispered into the unsettling still air

As you closed your eyes to calm your panicking thoughts you heard a major commotion followed by two gunshots coming from a nearby arch way, without thinking you ran towards it seeing Ghost take out a person before both of their bodies fell to the ground. 

You quickly rushed to his side taking a breath of relief that he was still clearly alive but the soft damp red patch on his upper thigh came into view. 

“Fuck” “No” You panicked dropping your rifle and holstering your handgun

“Do you have the flash drive?” He asked sitting himself up with a pained groan 

“Yes” “We have to get out of this stupid building” You stated with a nervous laugh 

You watched as Ghost painfully pushed himself up with a failed attempt to walk which resulted in him falling onto a nearby wall for support. 

“I can help” You offered 

“You arm is messed up” He pointed out pushing himself forward with a grunt 

“Not both of them” You argued walking cautiously next to his limping frame 

“It’s fine” He denied again 

You contemplated for a moment; were you really going to allow this guy who you were so desperately infatuated with, to walk with a shot leg? 

“No” You spoke forcing his arm over your shoulders allowing his heavy body to lean on your good shoulder 

Ghost was heavier than any expectation you had, and to be honest the closeness of your mutually injured bodies really put into perspective how massive he was. You cleared your head on your school girl thoughts, there was no time to gush over him as you two were both bleeding from a limb. 

You both had made it out of the building and were halfway to the truck that you drove in but both of your bodies were worn out. Soon enough Ghost’s body was too much for you to carry as he collapsed onto a nearby tree. 

“I know this hurts A LOT” “...But were almost there” “You can do it” You encouraged putting in a failed attempt to lift him back up

“Get to the guys by the truck” “And then come back for me” Ghost proposed letting his head rest on the large tree 

“No” You argued 

“You can’t carry me all the way back, and I can’t walk there” He spoke sternly 

“I won’t” You protested as your eyes scanned for any defining landmark that would guide the guys by the truck to you both 

“Why?” He asked 

Ghost’s eyes were so intense, it was another major trait that you liked about his appearance, but not right now. Not when they were practically trying to pry your brain open as he looked up at you waiting for an answer to his question. To make matters worse, you couldn’t spot anything defining about this part of the woods; so hell if you were both going to die here, you might as well come clean. 

“Because I have a terrible crush on you” “And on top of the fact that I like you, you’re my teammate and-” You began but your confession got cut short as your eyes focused on what you now made out to be a long river 

“You-” Ghost began but you quickly cut him off 

“Guys come in” “Me and Ghost are currently both injured, were in the woods not too far from the truck, were by a big lake” “It would be really nice if you guys could come heroically save us” You joked speaking into your walkie 

There was a daunting silence that felt as if it covered the entire forest as you both awaited a response. 

“Gotcha” “On our way now” A voice spoke 

“I’m so fucking tired” You breathed with a small smile of relief 

Soon enough flashlights illuminated your area and you were being carried off back into the truck happily handing over the stupid flashdrive that caused all this mess. 

Back at base you were in and out of the infirmary pretty fast, just a simple bullet removal followed by stitches, a thick bandage, and a sling to keep you off your arm as much as possible. Ghost was fine too except he was rather bed ridden at the moment; the excessive walking did a bit more damage than the bullet alone would have done but he’d heal fine in no time. 

“Hello” You called knocking on Ghosts’ door

“Yup” His deep voice answered allowing you to open the door shutting it lightly behind you

You shook off the jitters you felt seeing his more exposed face seeing as he didn’t have his skull piece on, just his black balaclava, you also noted his lack of black smear that usually covered his eyes. 

“I like the…not emo look” You joked sitting at the edge of his bed 

“Thank you” “For refusing to leave me” He spoke a small shift under his mask indicating what you hoped was a small smile

“Yeah…no problem” You smiled wondering if he had remember what you said 

“I do remember what you said” He spoke literally reading your mind

“Oh” You hummed

God what if he didn’t like you back in the slightest? What if you just made the entire experience awkward? What if he would request not to work with you because of it? All you could think of was how much you were regretting saying what you said.

“I feel the same way” “Not great at showing it but…you should know that” Ghost admitted 

You couldn’t believe it, I mean yeah he was nice to you but it was just him being nice; or so you thought. Ghost knew from the moment he saw you, there was something that drew him to you; the idea of you getting hurt haunted his mind on every mission you went on. Seeing you get shot was terrifying but also eye opening, in that moment he swore to himself that he would tell you, you happily beat him to the punch though. 

“That is really good…that is super really good” You spoke as a large smile dominated your face 

“Glad to deliver such good news” He said letting a laugh escape his mouth

You both talked a bit more before you left his room to allow him to rest, but you didn’t go back to your room; you went straight to Soap’s. 

“Soap” You called frantically knocking on his door 

“Are you okay?” Soap asked opening the door in what seemed like a panic 

You pushed yourself into his room before falling onto his bed with the same large smile that showed no signs of fading anytime soon.

“You’re scaring me” He spoke coming into your view as he carefully looked at your giddy face 

“Guess what?” You asked sitting up 

“They gave you something crazy in the infirmary” He joked taking a seat in front of you

“I thought me and Ghost were totally going to die on our mission…so I told him I liked him” You explained 

“What!?” “What did he say?” Soap asked with wide eyes as he switched his seat to beside you on his bed

“He said…..” “He likes me too”  You revealed teasing Soap with a long pause 

“I knew it!” He yelled 

“Shh” You smiled, throwing yourself back onto his bed with a sigh of contempt. 

Simon Ghost Riley liked you too.

[romana-after-dark]

The Wrong Way: Bonus Chapter

Tommy Miller x fem!reader

Masterlist

Summery: You are sold to Joel to clear up some of your fathers' debts, and he takes you back to his house where him, Tommy, and high ranking members of his raiding trope stay. Joel is mean, cruel, and hash, but had small moments of softness that confuse you in your venerable state. Over time, you get to know him and Tommy, and see different sides of each, an both are hiding secrets. Was it possible to fall in love under these circumstances? Or was that just another way Joel was fucking with you?

WARNINGS FOR FULL FIC, NOT CHAPTER BY CHAPTER UNLESS SOMETHING NEW IS ADDED AFTER MASTER WARNING LIST: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!!!! Fic contains graphic depictions of sexual assault, rape, molestation, dubcon/non con. Blow Jobs, PIV sex, lose of virginity, sex trafficking, past incest, death/people dying everywhere, Stockholm syndrome, falling for your rapist, victim blaming, torcher, branding, physical abuse, rape (not Joel), somno, graphic depictions of violence, being turned on by violence, pregnancy, self-harm/depression/suicidal thoughts (not a lot)but fair warning, major age gap

This is a reader fic, reader is early 20's, Joel is 40's at this point, reader is small enough that the men can lift her, but these are strong men. Reader is also referred to as little one, little girl ETC, but that's more in reference to her age/innocence than physical size.

Please reread warnings, as they have been updated. Also for this fic specifically, heavy on the self victim blame. I'll have a a note at the end about it.

Additionally for this chapter, dub-con for Tommy, bordering on non-con. He is not into it. If that angle of this srt of thing disturbs you, don't real this chapter. I'ts not neccecary for the plot, but I had people asking.

*************************

“You can never tell anyone, or we are both dead.” Tommy tells you before instructing you to lay on the bed and take off your pants, and you did as you were told, nervously exposing yourself to him, but you keep your legs closed. “You’re gonna haveta open up if we’re doing this, I ain’t pry’n your legs open.”

You knew Tommy wasn’t a fan of this proposition, but was trying to help you. You wondered how the brothers ended up so different… It was Tommy who tried to stop Joel from fucking your face, trying to stop him from buying you. It was Tommy who convinced Joel not to deflower you last night, Tommy who brought you food and amenities and finally, Tommy who was taking your virginity now for the sake of easing you into whatever Joel had in store for you.

You open your legs, and Tommy placed his hands on your hips. “Take deep breaths, I’m going to do my best to make this easier on you.”

“Okay” you whisper, trusting him for no other reason other than he was kind to you.

Tommy tried to touch you between your legs, and although it felt a little good, you pushed his hands away. “Just do it.”

You weren’t looking at him.

“C’mon, let me make this easier, warm you up.” Tommy spoke softly, trying to calm you. His voice was soothing, that was for sure. It wasn’t like you trusted him completely, you still felt that if you made the wrong move Tommy would hurt you, especially if it was under Joel’s orders, but you felt fairly confident that with this at least, he would take it easy. Joel wouldn’t show mercy.

You shook your head, still facing the wall. “Joel won’t make it easier, I shouldn’t get used to it.”

Tommy sighs. “He might. But either way, it’s going to hurt less if you are relaxed. Or, I guess more relaxed.” You still refuse his touch. “Okay, can I start?”

You nod, and Tommy carefully slips a finger inside you, and you whimper, wishing you could swallow your pride and let him make you feel good, but you refuse. You refused to find any pleasure in any of this, you could hold onto at least that bit of pride. 

You were tight already around his one finger, and Tommy realizes you might be more innocent than he thought a 20-year-old would be. “Honey, have you ever touched yourself before?” 

“No” You choke out. You had touched around between your legs, experimented a bit, but never put anything inside, and never brought yourself to an orgasm. You didn’t even know women could until your friend explained it last year.

“Fuck, okay” Tommy wanted to end this, but if anything, this was more reason to do this. Tommy's comfort wasn’t important, and he put his feelings aside. “Another?” With your permission, Tommy puts another finger in.

And to your embarrassment, a small moan slips out of your mouth, making you immediately blush and shut your eyes.

“It’s okay.” Tommy reassures, thick fingers stretching you and fucking you as your grew wetter despite your best efforts. “It’s okay if it feels good, it’s supposed to.”

Shaking your head, you refuse his words. “No.”

“Joel’s got a lot of pride, honey, depending on the day, he might want to make you cum.”

“I won’t. I won’t let him have this.”

Tommy put his free hand on your thigh, and you welcomed the comforting touch, but you wince at the third finger. “You can let me have this, if you want to. It’s natural for your body to react to this, even… even like this…”

The warmth in your stomach was growing harder to hold back, so all you trust yourself to do is shake your head. 

Tommy took his hands out of you, and you couldn’t help feel just a little empty. You look at him, and you can see how hard he’s gotten from touching you, his face and neck slightly red under his dark skin. “We can stop here. Might be better. You didn’t bleed…”

When you looked at him with confusion, he elaborated. “If you bleed with Joel, there won’t be any room for suspicion.” Tommy looked at you more intently. “I need you to understand that if he has any reason to doubt you aren’t a virgin, he will fucking kill you.” Tommy might be dead too, but if he was being honest, Tommy didn’t think Joel would kill him; he spent too long keeping him alive. He’s make him suffer, though.

“Tommy, please…” You beg. You were scared, and Tommy was the only option to prepare you, to keep you from going madly insane.

Tommy did not want to do this, but if this was something that could help you, he would.

“Okay, but you have to promise to tell me if you want to stop.”

You wanted to stop now. You never wanted to start, but this is where you were at, and this was the best option for you. “Okay”

Tommy took off his jeans, placing them under you to prevent the dead give away of the blood on the mattress. When he took off his boxers, you were still intimidated by his sheer size; he wasn’t as big as Joel, but bigger than the three fingers that were previously inside you. He lined up at your entrance, and slowly pushed in, holding back a moan as your warmth enveloped him. Tommy couldn’t lie; you felt good. When their raiding groups went somewhere that didn’t have established relationship with and, as the name implies, raided, Tommy wuldn’t participate in the rapes that the other men did. Joel didn’t either, which Tommy couldn’t understand. Sex was paid for, in which consent was dubious at best, but not like the brutal gang rapes of the other men. Joel wouldn’t stop them, however. Tommy wouldn’t have sex with someone he didn’t feel was willing, leaving him with a dry period. There was someone he was seeing, but this was under Joel's nose, leaving him with little contact. Oh fuck, what was she ging to think abut this? That was Tommy’s burden to bear, not yours. 

When he was fully seated inside you, Tommy couldn’t help but groan, dropping his forehead to your shoulder as he stilled, waiting for you to adjust to him. “I’m going to start moving, okay?”

“Okay” you whisper. When Tommy began moving, it hurt, the initial pain dulling into a ache all around your lower body, you kept finding yourself holding your breath and being unable to get enough air in; your chest was tight. Even as your panic began to shoot up, the slight burn began to subside just a bit, replaced with something good. There was discomfort still, however, a feeling you couldn’t tell if it was good or not, and definitely pain. 

“I need you to relax, honey. Deep breaths.”

“It’s going to hurt no matter what.” You choked out, tensing up even more as breathing felt like it all but stopped.

“It’ll hurt less if you don’t fight it, I promise.” 

Tommy was talking about Joel, you knew… he gently rubbed your arms, massaging up your shoulders, whispering to you breath in, breath out, breath in, breath out, until you regained your ability to breath. When you found you could again, you realize the pain was all but gone, leaving you with th bubbling warmth again, and the general discomfort of such a foreign feelings inside you. 

“There you go, good job, you’re doing good.” Tommy praises as he continues thrusting, having talked you down from panic. “I can make you come, if you’ll let me.”

You almost said yes, you felt close again but who comes under these circumstances? You would feel even more dirty, more wrong, more used than you already did. “Please don’t” you said with a small cry.

“Okay, I won’t” Tommy wished you’d let him, let him ease at least a little of the guilt he felt, but he couldn’t really argue with you. You did, however, allow yourself to revel in this just a bit. It was the first time you had been touched in kindness in a long time, save for a few hugs from your friend and even rarer from your brother. At the very least, Tommy was gentle, he was soft, and he tried to make this as easy as possible. You were just happy to feel kindness. When he came, Tommy pulled out and spilled onto his pants, and you almost wanted him back. You were so lonely, even this connection felt like something. 

Tommy, however, was glad it was over, ready to get the fuck out of this room and scrub this day off him, and hopefully be somewhere else when Joel comes back so he didn’t have to hear what Joel would do to you. He pulls the blanket over your exposed bottom; you were too shaken to dress yourself.

You sit up, pulling the blanket over your chest even though you were still wearing Tommy’s shit he gave you last night. You still felt exposed. “Thank y-”

“Don’t” He couldn’t look at you, scrambling to get his clothes on. Tommy Miller wasn’t an asshole, he didn’t just fuck girls and leave them, but he couldn’t stand the thought of being in this room and around you any longer. He felt guilty, he felt perverted for being with someone so young, even if you had practically begged. He needed to get out of there; he felt sick. “Fuck, fuck, I’m sorry, I just- I have to go, I need to go”

You watch in silence as he pulls on the pants with your blood, and you can see the guilt on his face. “I’m sorry, Tommy”

Tommy avoided looking at you and left without a word.

*************

Despite what Little One is saying, being turned on and cumming from assault or rape happens more than you'd think. It happened to me and that doesn't make it any less rape. I don't want to take this fic super seriously bc if we're applying real life morals to it then I shouldn't be humanizing Joel at all, but it will be romantic later on. But I do want to say at the end of all this that this is fiction, all this is wrong and bad.

I also feel bad for Tommy, as I was writing it I'm like.... damn if consent is only given enthusiastically and freely, Tommy isn't really consenting either is he?

Anyway, any guesses as to how Joel finds out, or what joel does when he learns?

real fast self promo, if you like Triple Frontier and dream about getting fucked by all of the boys, HERE YOU GO

Thank you so much for your comments! They absolutely keep me writing, it's good to know your writing makes an impact. Also thank you for the support after those nasty anons, and thank you for being so anxious for more! That being said, just know that finals are coming for me. I have a 12 page paper due next week, and a 5 page paper due a few days later, and my oral final for Spanish. I am..... stressed. But this chapter was mostly done so i decided to finish it today and give it to you bc ill be honest, chapter 3 probs won't be out for a few weeks. If you are anxious for a new chapter, i love hearing it! but please dont ask when, only bc i dont know ahaha!

Wish me luck! just found out ill be taking 12 credits this summer oh god.

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @howaboutcastiel @tidlewav3 @bunnnyy-dummy @slutfortimotheechalamet @foggymoonbanana @dinsbaby @miraclesabound @jenna-ortega @primosworld @marclovers @threeheadedlamb @secretwriterpp @the-fox-den

some of the tags just don work! lmk if theres a way i can fix this, but if theres nothing to be done, you can sign up for notifications when this blog posts! It dont post very much here so you wont get all kinds of notifications

[akkkkollle]

Hello Chris! ~ Imagine Bonten Mikey feeling a lot of sexual tension with reader, reader noticing and deciding to tease him by making their lips touch but not kissing him and touching his ass while whispering dirty things and making Mikey cum untouched to then fuck him until he is crying, humiliating him while Mikey just moans and cries while calling the reader “Master” and begging him to use him as his little fucktoy<3

All of this with Sanzu watching maybe?

Thank you for your time!

Pairing: Mikey × M!Reader.

Words: 1400+.

CW/TW: a little feminization, humiliation, sex on the table, Sanzu watching, mention of death, teasing, orgasm untouched.

Your footsteps are heard in the hallway as you leave this most boring Bonten meeting. Although maybe this time it wasn't, but your thoughts were occupied with completely different things during the meeting. 

The look of your boss. Almost the entire assembly, his black eyes looked at you, as if looking into your soul. As if he wanted to find out and find out all your secrets, and then use this information. Did you think so? No. Maybe you'd think so if it was just a look. 

He constantly somehow inadvertently interacted with you. But it was only small touches that could be counted as an accident, and words or phrases that flew out of his mouth in his usual calm manner. But today, when he asked you to stay after the meeting... 

—————————————————————

-So why did you want me to stay? - you ask, looking at his small figure coming up to you. 

He didn't deign to answer you. You just felt a weight on your knees and... realized that it was Mikey. Your eyes widen slightly when his hands rest on your shoulders, squeezing them slightly while he tries to get comfortable on your lap, inadvertently rubbing your dick. 

He just looks up with his empty eyes at you, looking at you, as always, as if killing with a look. But... This time you see some faint gleam in them. A grin blooms on your lips when you feel him rubbing uncomfortably against you. 

You press him against a long table and his ass collides with the table as he groans in surprise. In the end, you put him on this table. Your hands are dangerously close to his ass, your fingers tapping on the table, letting him know that you're almost touching him. Your face hovers over his face and your lips hover over his lips, almost kissing them. He closes his eyes, but opens them when he hears your laugh. 

- You're so needy, aren't you? - you whisper, which makes goosebumps run down his back. - Just sitting here and waiting for your subordinate to kiss you, right? 

He just bites his lip, looking down. There is a slight blush on his cheeks, which only adds to his beauty. Your warm breath on his ear excites him so much, his excitement only grows. 

-Such a little boy, you're too direct, you know? And too serious... But ... - your tongue fleetingly touches his cold skin, from which he whines slightly, rubbing his thighs. - And what if we make you the perfect toy for men, since you are so hungry for their attention? 

He shakes his head weakly, but he feels himself tense up more from this idea. Being used by another man? He doesn't agree. 

-Then what do you want? - Maybe you can tell me? 

- You. - he answers softly, imitating your whisper. 

- In what way? - you ask a little mockingly. 

His hands slowly stroke his hips, his gaze is lowered down and he looks at your hands. Just move a little and he will feel...

- In all. - he answers. 

You're just chuckling, saying:

- But, baby, do you really want me so much? Do you want my dick to rebuild your insides? Do you want my lips on your lips? Do you want to hear my voice when I humiliate and praise you? - he nods. - Well, aren't you a good girl? 

He feels a slight tremor all over his body. No one has ever allowed himself to do this next to him. He has always been strong, but now he wants to be the weakest. For you. 

- Imagine how your gorgeous ass would shrink around my cock while I fuck you. As if your useless dick was leaking and then coming, Mikey. - you speak almost inaudibly, feeling how he trembles under your figure and rubs his hips. - Or maybe it would be better for you not to cum? Your pleasure wouldn't matter, you'd be just the perfect toy for me, Mikey. Do you agree? 

A quiet "Yes" escapes his lips when he sees your face above his again. Your lips almost touch his bitten, from nerves, lips. 

"Ah!" echoes in the room when he feels your hands pushing him onto the cold surface of the table. His body was shaking with excitement and damn...

- Oh, did you cum? - he is surprised by your phrase and looks down, but immediately whines, looking up at the ceiling. - Just from my words, right? What will happen to my dick? 

He groans at this phrase. He had been waiting for this for so long, he had imagined it for so long. And he's finally going to get your dick. You pull off his trousers and underpants, exposing his cum-covered lower part. He twitches at the sensation of cold air on his heated flesh. 

Your fingers slide to his hole painfully slowly. He insanely wants to jerk his hips up to feel the touch of your fingers on his hole, but at the same time he can't. A strange sense of submission grew in him very strongly. And when at last your fingers touch him exactly there, he moans, and you are surprised. 

- Are you ready yet? - you ask mockingly. 

- Yes, Master... - you are even more surprised. - I've been dreaming about you fucking me for a long time, so... Well, you see for yourself. 

You just laugh, unbuckling the belt on your trousers, and pulling them down with the underwear. He mumbles when he feels your head pressed against his entrance and he jerks his hips in impatience, you just roll your eyes and your cock is finally in him. 

He groans with relief and pleasure. His hands immediately grab your shoulders, scratching them. A few tears are pouring out of his eyes from the stretching that he is currently experiencing. But he immediately wraps his legs around your torso, tapping on your back, giving a sign to move. 

You immediately start your thrusts, immediately getting to the right place. Blissful moans come out of his mouth as he squeezes around you, slightly hindering the thrusts. His body lies helplessly on the table while you fuck him like a little toy. Just like he dreamed. 

A barely noticeable smile appears on his face, even this is very strange for his apathetic state. But damn, he's gorgeous right now. 

- Fuck me harder, master, please... Use me however you want! - he pleads, throwing his head back in bliss. 

- Oh, yeah? That is, does the great Mikey like it when he is used as a sex toy? - he whines, but nods blankly. 

He likes the prospect. The way you would fuck him, not even caring whether he likes it or not, whether he wants it or not, whether the moment is right now or not... He agrees with everything, as long as it's you. 

Tears are already seriously starting to roll down his red face, falling on his chest and on the table. Your back will hurt from the scratches on it. And his hips and ass will definitely hurt from this case. 

You hear an indifferent moan from him, and then a whimper. His arms are twitching, his legs are clenching much harder, his head is thrown back with a loud groan, squeezing you hard. 

-Oh, cumming, cumming, cumming, master, please let me..! - he whines, chewing his lips. 

- Fuck, come on, cum with me. 

And he does. Cum stains his tummy, and your cum stains his insides white. You both take your heavy breaths. 

You get out of his ass, which makes him grunt, and get dressed. 

- Are you going to stand there for a long time? - he asks, turning his head towards the door. 

- I am... I just forgot the folder... Yes. I'll take it, sorry. - he walks past you, taking the ill-fated folder and comes out with red cheeks. 

- Go. - he whispers, getting up. - Go faster, I'll do it myself. 

You just shrug your shoulders, unable to contradict him and go out. 

—————————————————————

- Still, it was interesting, you know? - suddenly a familiar voice asks. 

- Sanzu, I won't be responsible for your boner, go kill yourself against the wall. - you're being sarcastic, making him blush again.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Sky Full of Stars - Chapter Two.

Ahhh, fuck it. Why not another chapter to get the ball rolling? You guys are so good to me with your lovely comments, so in turn, you get more story!

Previous chapters - One

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 4,312

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI!

“Hey Jade, I’ll give you some privacy,” Marv, their driver spoke with his usual wide smile upon seeing her climb onto the bus with a guy he recognised but couldn’t immediately place why. “Need to go find me some food anyway.”  

“Alright, Marv. The food truck has just about everything tonight. No more bad burgers!” she chuckled, moving through the narrow gangway. The bus wasn’t what he’d expected it would look like, a small lounge area at the front, two rows of sleeping bunks towards the centre, a tiny kitchen area and even smaller bathroom (complete with an amusing handwritten sign that advised if anyone took a crap, their head got flushed along with it) and finally, another lounge area right at the back.  

The seating section surrounded a small table, the space perhaps the least claustrophobic on the bus. It certainly looked a lot larger on the outside than it did within. How she coped being cooped up in it while travelling, he didn’t know.  

“Do you want a drink? I’ve got wine somewhere, do you like Merlot?” she asked, beginning to root around in the overhead cupboards. “No, it’s in the kitchenette. Hang on.” 

“Yeah, that’d be great, thanks.” Sitting down, he had mere moments to take stock of what an interesting day it had been so far. It had started out not so great, jammed against a barrier with a crush of a permanently apoplectic mosh pit behind him, the early evening bringing with it something much more comfortable and sedate. He was joined again quickly by the woman who only continued to captivate him further with every passing moment, passing him a solo cup half filled with red wine. 

“Sorry for the uncouth receptacle. We don’t keep breakables on the bus beyond coffee mugs, save things getting smashed to hell,” she explained, taking a seat. “So, tell me more about you. You’ve fascinated me so far. I want to know what lurks beneath the extremely attractive exterior.”  

Yes, she certainly was very naturally charming, Adrien feeling his stomach flutter pleasantly. She hadn’t asked him about his acting, or which industry people he knew, what he’d be working on next, oh no. Him. She wanted to know about him. It made for a refreshing change, although eventually she did inquire into his profession, one she was slowly making waves in herself. Lamentably, although she’d been in quite a high number of projects over the past eight years, he hadn’t actually seen her in anything. Or so he thought.  

“I mean, it was only a small, independent movie, but I’m really proud of it, playing an icon like Janis. She was such a huge influence,” she spoke, watching his eyes widen. 

“Shit, I have seen you in something. I saw you in that! Sorry, it’s just, you look very different to how you did playing her, obviously.”  

“What did you think?” she asked, sipping her wine. “No need to flatter me either. Be honest.” 

“Honestly?” He paused a moment, scratching his chin and pulling his cigarettes out, lighting up and knocking the pack across the table to her, Jade sliding the ashtray closer. “I think you did the best with what you had to work with. You played a very convincing Janis Joplin from what I know of her, but the direction of it wasn’t great. They could have done a lot more. From what I remember, you really put your heart into it, green to playing a lead role as you were - and that did show – but your performance what made it.”  

His words surprised her. Not because he hadn’t enjoyed the direction of the biopic, but the fact he’d been completely honest with her. “Thank you. See, so many people have been phony about it, blown smoke right up my ass, but what you said was exactly how I felt. I put my all into it, although I ultimately felt like I was only as good as what I was given. They skipped over so much of her life that would have made it even more interesting, only to go for the sensationalist element. Bloody pissed me right off.” 

He loved the way her speech was a mishmash of Britishisms and Americanisms, a slight New York lilt coming through on every sixth or so word.  

“You’ll learn the further you get into it, be more selective over what you give your time to.” She asked him if he minded giving her a little more advice there, Adrien only happy to, liking very much how completely unpretentious she was.  

In her world, she was a big deal, huge, in fact, but in acting she was still a relatively small fish in an extremely large pond. As for Jade, she considered herself extremely lucky, getting to listen to the wisdom a man who since winning an Oscar seven years before had only gone from strength to strength. 

“I know it comes with the job, speaking to press, but I always feel somewhat antsy about it,” he began a time later, as they spoke of the pitfalls of their respective careers, chewing the corner of his lip. “It isn’t even an editing thing; your words just tend to get filtered through the gaze of so many other people and it ends up as a rendition of you rather than the definitive portrait. And preconceived notions can be tough to shake.”  

Oh, the affinity. His words definitely struck a chord. “This is why I’m very interview shy. I’m too much of a juxtapose, and people don’t know how to take me. Yes, I’m quite quiet and introverted to a degree, but also, when it comes to my work, I don’t take any shit, and I will call people out on it. This leads to me being labelled as difficult, all because I tire of the same bullshit questions that my male counterparts don’t get asked, for example.  

“So, I set certain terms, dictate which are allowed and unallowed questions, and that apparently makes me an obstreperous bitch. Journalists go in there and instead of focusing on what I actually say when they meet me, they’ve already made up their minds. Then the filtering you speak of happens, and it gets even fucking worse.” She paused then, tightening her mouth a little. “Just say if I talk too much. I tend to jabber on when I feel comfortable with somebody.”  

He reached for her, sweeping the apple of her cheek with his thumb. “You’re fine. I like hearing your thoughts.” In turn, she liked sharing them, too. There was something about him she felt inexplicably drawn to, like she could trust him with anything, and not receive a drop of judgement; just a very good ear.  

“So, why Seventh Gate?” he asked a while later, watching as she played with the flame on a candle she’d brought in to illuminate the space the darker it got. She detested false light as much as he did. “Is it from the urban legend?” 

“Yes!” she enthused, utterly delighted at his accuracy. Surprisingly, not many people guessed right away. So the aforementioned legend stated, if anybody passed through all seven specific gates dotted around in a woodland area within Hellam Township in Pennsylvania, they descended directly to hell.  

“A few buddies and I went and did the trail one time, drove down there with the location details of all the gates, but completely chickened out of crossing all of them. It was dumb, because it’s a complete myth, but nope, we were way too pussy to do it,” he laughed, watching as she giggled with mirth. 

“We shot a music video there, got wasted drunk and ended up running through all of them. We did the last one bare assed naked, me with Jen on my back while chugging a bottle of vodka and screaming ‘take me Satan!’ at two in the morning, with the entire production crew crying laughing.” 

“You’re fucking insane,” he laughed, that laughter loudening considerably as he pictured it. 

“Yeah, we’re a little mental when the mood takes us.” 

He could well believe it. “I sense there’s a lot more you could reveal that’d probably make my hair stand on end.” 

Hmmm. To divulge her years as an absolute hellion to the nice guy sitting adjacent to her, or keep quiet? “C’mon, spill.”  

Well, he asked for it.  

“We got arrested for inciting a riot outside Tower Records in downtown Oklahoma, about five years ago. Huge police presence, fans jumping on cars, us thriving in the middle of it with our security team going crazy. It was fun. We got let out shortly after thanks to the negotiation skills of our manager, played the show that night, and then caused about ten grand’s worth of damage at the club the afterparty was held in. 

“Still though, through all of that madness, I think I was just playing a part, getting the hedonism out of the way. I found fame so early, signed at seventeen, an album recorded in the same year and thrown out onto one tour after another for sixteen months without a real break. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I still like to party, but not to those kinds of extremes.”  

“Not so wild any longer, huh?” 

Oh, the grin that spread across her perfect, pillowy pout. It made him twitch quite sharply in a place he wasn’t sure he should quite so soon after meeting her. “Only in two places. On stage and in bed.” 

He arched an eyebrow, eyes sweeping her a few times. “Being a tease again, hmm?”  

“Depends.” The look she fixed him with amped his pulse instantly, Adrien not able to remember the last time he’d had such efficiently potent sexual magic cast upon him. 

“On?” 

Taking a big gulp of her wine, she licked a drop from her lip, staring into the blazing green of his eyes. “Whether if I came over there and straddled your lap, you’d let me kiss you or not.”  

He had to admire her nerve. She had way more game than he did. His eyes fell to his thighs, then back at her with a smirk. “I guess there’s only one way to find out.”  

She moved the three feet separating them slowly, her glide all feline, much more cheetah than tame house cat, her eyes glinting like blue shards through the dim light. Moving carefully astride him, it burned slow like napalm, her hands resting to his chest, stroking down as he clasped her narrow waist, their foreheads touching.  

“Mmm, wow, Mr. B,” she purred, her heart thundering through an inferno within her chest. “Aren’t you absolutely divine close up?” Her lips had caught his before he could even think of replying, their kiss deepening to a slow dance of tongues within a second. It was lazy, yet scorching, their hands roaming one another as the burn gained heat.  

A soft moan echoed her throat, her hands moving to rake her nails down the dark stubbly beard flecking his cheeks and neck, the sound darting right to his cock. His entire being hummed with it, the desire to slowly peel off her clothes, but he wouldn’t be that guy. He never had been, and oh, how his body hated him for it, feeling her pressed right up against him, aching in his gut to take it further.  

“Oh wow,” she murmured, her mouth moving to his neck to lay delicate little kisses, swirls of her tongue tasting his flesh, the salt of sweat mixed with whatever cologne he wore faintly lingering there against his gorgeous skin. “The way you kiss gives me serious cunt flutters.”  

He snorted, laughing softly at her so alluringly delivered crudeness. “Yeah?”  

“Mmhmm.” That little hum preceded her mouth landing upon his again, and god, how she could have ripped all of his clothes off and ridden him to the edges of heaven right there and then, she was so torridly aroused by the man beneath her. She wouldn’t, though. Gone were the days of quick sex with a hot guy simply to sate her desire. With him, she knew she wanted more. “Okay, if I don’t control myself now I never will, but please know you make that very difficult.”  

He shook his head, arms tightening around her. “Sorry. I’m not about to let you go.” More kisses followed, a little calmer, gentler passions exchanged, the contented murmurs he made causing her heart to skip happily. At thirty-one years old, it had been a long, long time since a man had made her feel like she was a young woman in first flushes of becoming utterly besotted with somebody, and even though she was more than used to it, it pained her that she’d have to let him go in a few hours. 

That feeling? It was entirely mutual.  

Eventually, they settled to resting beside one another, two sets of long legs propped up on the table, Jade lying with her head against his chest as they talked, and talked, and talked.  

“So, why’s it complicated?” 

“Well, I suppose it isn’t really, but some would see it that way. We’re just a mixed bunch of nomads,” she began, before launching into the story of how she came to be. “So, my mum is the daughter of Italian immigrants. My grandmother was originally from Staten Island, brought there as a baby in arms after her parents moved from Sicily, but then relocated to the UK when my great-grandfather got work over in London for way more pay. They used their entire savings to take the ship voyage over and lived penniless in the Walthamstow slums until his wages came in. 

“She grew up poor, but eventually prospered, met another son of Italians and married him, had my mum, but their marriage ended when she was eleven, so my grandmother moved her back to Staten Island for a fresh start. She wanted to be with a man who actually had time for her away from his career. My grandfather worked his way up from washing dishes to head chef, eventually restauranteur, and he always put work before his family, so my gran bailed and went back home. 

“Then after four years, very sadly and quickly, she learned she had breast cancer and passed away, so my mum and uncles crossed the ocean again to return to London and live with my grandfather and his new wife. Are you keeping up so far?” 

“I am,” he confirmed, making a side-to-side motion with his hand. “There’s a lot of back and forth between Staten Island and London, but I’m with you. Carry on.” 

“See what I mean, though? Nomads! So then, mum starts dating this guy at eighteen and unexpectedly falls pregnant. She had no idea what to do, of course coming from a very devout Catholic background she felt guilty as hell over the idea of abortion, but knowing she’d only be nineteen when she gave birth was scary, too. To make it scarier, the guy she was with told her he wasn’t ready to become a father and vanished into thin air, leaving my poor mum alone with an impossible decision to make. 

“Well, that was until she met my dad. They fell in love very quickly, and he told her it didn’t matter that she was carrying another man’s baby, he wanted to stand by her and raise me as his own. He always says, “We are not bonded by biology, but god sent you to me as my baby. You are my first born, always.” His name is on my birth certificate, and he adopted me right away. I mean, it’s obvious I’m not his biologically because he’s black, but he’s the only dad I know. You might have seen him earlier, actually. He was the guy who looks a little like Morgan Freeman who was probably looking at me with a mixture of mild despair and a lot of pride. He’s out here for work currently, so swung by to watch us.” 

“Why despair?” he laughed, trying to remember if he’d seen such a man in the chaos of that afternoon. 

“He says I’m entirely too noisy with a microphone in my hand.” 

His mouth twitched into a lopsided grin, kissing the top of her head. “He’s got that right.” 

“How are your eardrums now?” she asked, looking up at him with a grin that had him in soft fits. 

“Better,” he confirmed, tightening his arm around her. “Continue.” 

“Right, so yeah, dad is originally from Harlem, but he got a scholarship place at a university in London based on his academic excellence. And believe me, my dad is so, so smart. He’s a cardiothoracic surgeon. So, years later, after he’d fully qualified as a doctor and done five years of residency, he was offered a job at New York Presbyterian, we moved back to Harlem, lived in an apartment for a while and then they bought a beautiful brownstone that they still live in to this day.” 

“Why did he choose London?” he asked, curious when there were so many amazing colleges in the US. 

“He said he wanted to see a little more of the world before he locked himself into being a surgeon, so applied further afield. When he was still studying, him and my mum used to save all their cash and take little backpacking holidays in Europe when I was a baby. There’s a great picture he keeps in his wallet, holding me at the top of the Eifel Tower when I was one, screaming my lungs out!” 

Something she had made a very good career out of, he thought. “Do they just have you, or have you any siblings?” 

“A brother and a sister four years younger than me, twins, too. Rachel and Marco, named after my maternal grandfather and paternal grandmother. I got named after my mum’s favourite gemstone. She’s really into Oriental artefacts, it’s what she studied at uni around looking after me, Asian art. She works as a curator now at the Guggenheim, specialising in antiquities from Asia.” She then paused, looking up at him sheepishly. “I’m talking too much. Again.” 

“Shut up,” he scolded softly, “I could listen to you tell me about your life for days.” 

That made her smile, always thinking she went on entirely too much when she spoke of her life and loves. “Tell me more about yours. About your parents and siblings,” she requested, idly stroking his abs through the dark fabric of his t shirt. 

“No siblings, mom said I was too much trouble to think about having more,” he joked, smiling at he thought about her. “She’s a painter and photographer, and my dad is a professor, he lectures in social science at NYU. He likes to paint, too, it’s what bonded them. He met her at an art class they were both taking while they were at university, and he said he has never, ever seen paint used in the haphazard way my mother creates her art. That’s what first attracted him to her, seeing this woman with her hair all pinned up with paint brushes, paint smudges all over her face, staring at her canvas with the kind of focus that made her look constipated, apparently. 

“When I was a baby, she used to put my hands and feet in these huge tubs of paint and let me crawl around on giant canvases, and I’d thrive, covering myself in as many colours as I could, rolling around and making a huge mess. My grandmother used to shake her head, baffled at it all, but my mom was just like, “He’s expressing himself, I’m starting him early!” I love to paint for hours, days even when I’m not working. My overall creative drive definitely comes from them. Well, her mostly. The Lois Brody method.”  

Her head shot up, eyes rounding. “Your mum is Lois Brody? Oh my god, she’s a legend! I love her photographs!” she cried, Adrien smiling with pride. 

“Yeah, she’s amazingly talented. Has this way of capturing something completely minute that others wouldn’t notice and making it the focal point of the entire photograph. I don’t know how she does it, but she’s incredible at seeing what others miss,” he revealed, still smiling widely. He was very proud of his mother, and it showed.  

“I had no idea you were her son, but then I don’t know who anybody is. It’s actually embarrassing, how it sails over my head, or how I get people confused. I met Katy Perry and thought she was Zooey Deschanel recently. I told her I recognised her from the TV show Weeds, and she’s just like, ‘eh?’ at me. I’m such a twat,” she confessed, hiding her face behind her hand as he laughed.  

“Don’t feel bad, I’m not clued up on pop culture either,” he reassured her, Jade suddenly snorting. 

“That isn’t even my worst one. Jen and I went on holiday to Nepal a few years back, and I saw a guy dressed in orange riding a bike and thought he was the Dalai Lama! The tour guide was in hysterics.”  

As was Adrien, laughing so hard, he had tears in his eyes. “His holiness on a bicycle. That’s amazing!” 

“He might like to cycle! You don’t know that he doesn’t!” she cried in a cutely comic voice, her laughter escalating as she sat up, the gorgeous man who embraced her unable to stop himself from completely falling apart.  

“Stop it,” he hissed, one arm still around her, the other hugging his stomach, which was starting to hurt. “You’re so damned funny, oh my god.” He composed himself for all of three seconds before falling to pieces again, Jade softly slapping his chest. “I can’t breathe!” 

“It isn’t that funny,” she protested, laughing now purely at him continuing to crack up. 

“Yes, it is!”  

He wouldn't forget that in a hurry, or the night he was sharing with her either, looking at his watch and becoming painfully aware he likely didn’t have long left with her as ten o’clock loomed, asking the question he’d been putting off for the last few hours. “How long do I have you for, then?”  

“Until midnight. Then I turn back into a pumpkin.”  

He raised an eyebrow. “What?” 

“You know, like Cinderella.” 

Oh, god. He couldn’t handle so much laughter. “Cinderella doesn’t turn into a pumpkin, her coach does!” 

Cringing, she hid her face, shaking with laughter. “Oh, yeah that’s right.”  

“You’re incredible,” he laughed, holding her close again. “I don’t know how the hell I’m gonna let you go in two hours, you know. This idea doesn’t sit well.”  

“No,” she sighed wistfully, stroking his chest, placing a kiss against his collar bone. “Not with me either. God knows when I’ll get to see you again, because I really want to. I’m locked into touring until December, though.”  

“Yeah, I have two weeks off as of today and then I’m going to Hawaii to shoot Predators. I’ll be there for a month for all the outdoor filming, then back for a month and a half in LA to finish the rest, then I have three weeks of press stuff booked more or less solidly until mid-December.” 

“Boo hiss,” she pouted, hand moving to stroke his face, hating that it would likely be around three months until she got to spend time with the lovely man whose arms she lay in again. “It’s what we signed up for with our careers, but it doesn’t stop it from being disappointing when things like this happen. When you meet someone you really find a connection to, and then can’t spend any further time with them.” 

He looked sad, kissing her head, the cogs in his brain beginning to turn as he entered a few moments of contemplation. “What if I didn’t have to leave you just yet?” Met by a face of curiosity, he continued. “How do you feel about tour bus stowaways coming along on tour with you for a week, should said prospective stowaway be able to make that happen?” 

Her eyes lit up, pushing herself to sit straighter. “Really? You could do that?”  

“Maybe. Gimme ten minutes to go and check.” Kissing her, he stood up, lighting a cigarette and pulling his phone out, heading back down to the front of the bus to make a phone call, the night air cooler than the heat of the day he’d felt himself baking under. While he made a call to his manager, Jade sat and fiddled with her jewellery, nervously awaiting his return. What if he couldn’t? But, oh. The joy if he could.  

She could scarcely believe it, that the man actually wanted to blow off his commitments in order to spend a week on a bus with her while she and her band travelled around California to continue to west coast dates of their tour. Seven days with him, although of course it wouldn’t be all of the time, having her own interviews to be present for along the way, visits to radio stations as well, a webcast she was also taking part in too around their live performances. Some of the time would be better than nothing at all, though. 

When he walked back in, her heart catapulted into her mouth, his face expressionless before slowly, he began to beam. “Looks like you have me for another week.” 

He was deafened for the second time that day, this time by the pitch of the excited shriek she let out, scrambling from her seat and bouncing up into his arms, raining kisses all over his face as he laughed softly, holding her tight.  

Seven days. Seven days that would change everything for them both.  

[txttletale]

Okay, so I think that other ask helped me figure out why I'm struggling to meet you on this issue: this feels like talking to a certain type of anarchist, where every concern is met with "well once we eliminate this hierarchy, no one will do bad things any more." I find your writing on MLism generally compelling (despite not totally lining up with my own politics) because you have a pretty clear vision for the world under that system, and can directly address concerns people have about it. That doesn't seem to be the case with family abolition.

Mainly, this discussion is frustrating because it feels like you refuse to directly answer the question of if there are ever any situations in which children should be compelled to do things for their own good.

No doubt we can imagine restructuring the world in such a way that more children are incentivized to adopt healthy habits, and to learn about topics they would currently be resistant to. But ultimately, counting on good role models and rational explanations to just convince every child to do every thing that is unpleasant but necessary seems hopefully naive. No societal restructuring is going to convince a toddler that getting a vaccine is worth it, for example. Even if they can roughly understand cause and effect, it simply takes time and experience for decision-making abilities to develop.

So I keep coming back to this question of whether your position is that children (of any age?) should be given complete bodily autonomy, even if deleterious to their health and well-being, or if there are any cases where that should be infringed. I know you can't perfectly imagine a world so radically different, but this seems like a pretty core pillar of your philosophy here that you seem to be unwilling to address head-on.

In striving for socialism, however, we are convinced that it will develop into communism and, therefore, that the need for violence against people in general, for the subordination of one man to another, and of one section of the population to another, will vanish altogether since people will become accustomed to observing the elementary conditions of social life without violence and without subordination.

this is what lenin said about communism and i think this applies just as much to children as it does anything else. i am not 'unwilling to address it' but rather simply don't think there's anything relevant or meaningful that i could achieve by brainstorming a hypothetical perfect system of total autonomy for all under Communism, because i do not have either the conditions of communism nor the precursory conditions of socialism in front of me to judge them. i'd just be conjuring figments out of air.

under socialism, of course, although the family could be abolished, total autonomy and freedom of children is not yet a possibility, just as total autonomy and freedom of adults is not yet a possibility, and will not be a possibility until the abolition of classes & the withering away of the state.

& i think that the toddler example is a little silly. i obviously do not think a toddler can meaningfully articulate a preference about their medical care. i think it's a silly and bad-faith reading of my arguments to think that i want total toddler autonomy (let's just let the little fuckers roam around let's let them dual wield flintlock pistols what could go wrong).

but either way post-abolition of the family children are still going to be bound by, like, the fucking law as long as a state exists. i'm not proposing the purge (2010) for children! i'm advocating for the abolition of the family as a coercive system of social control and the transfer of the responsibility of care away from 'the family' and towards the entirety of society. not bugsy malone world!

[musicalmoritz]

Do you have any Kousano headcanons?

YAYYYYYY FINALLY A BSD SHIP ASK :D SAPPHIC BSD SPECIFICALLY YES :D

• Okay since BSD isn’t my current hyperfixation this might be tricky BUT I was hyperfixated on it for like half a year not too long ago so I still have loads of info stored up in my brain to be dumped out

• Their first time meeting was when Kouyou was held captive by the Agency during the Guild Arc. They had heard of each other prior to that and being from rival organizations, they went in expecting to be enemies

• Their first impression was a rough one, but there was an underlying thread of chemistry. They matched each other’s banter very well, despite being used to having the final word at their respective organizations. It was a welcomed change

• And they’re both raging lesbians so like…hot lady who is my enemy…many thoughts occur

• It’s very much an enemies AND lovers dynamic, they meet up for secret rendezvous and then fight each other during times of conflict

• The tragic part is that they both like each other, that’s why it’s become an ongoing thing. That’s why they start going on secret dates in disguise, although they both claim to not enjoy it

• In another life they would’ve been soulmates, but their conflicting ideologies and rival positions force them to be enemies (because I like to make things overly romantic, sue me)

• They have a lot of insignificant things in common- favorite desserts, favorite books, etc. Those are important, but they’re also similar personality-wise and with their backstories

• I imagine Yosano dates around a lot and this makes Kouyou insanely jealous. They aren’t official so she technically can’t have a problem with it but it still gets under her skin

• So Yosano’s like “hey if you want to be exclusive just say that, there are no rules to this secret relationship thing” but Kouyou is too stubborn to admit she likes Yosano that much

• Yosano initially takes a very “your trauma is not my business” approach to their differing jobs but as things get more serious she starts to develop a slight savior complex. She goes from being completely unattached to way too attached. She wants to show Kouyou the light the way Ranpo and Fukuzawa did for her

• Speaking of which, there’s only one person who knows about their situationship and that’s Ranpo. He figured it out himself and mentioned it casually to Yosano one day, nearly giving her a heart attack. She knew he would find out eventually but it was very sudden. At least she has someone to vent to when things get especially confusing

• Higuchi and Gin eventually find out too because they catch them at the same lesbian bar

• Pretty soon it becomes an open secret

• I like to imagine there’s a big moment of confrontation between the PM and Kouyou that goes down exactly like the “how long have you been fucking Nate Jacobs?” scene from Euphoria

• Kouyou addresses Yosano as “Doctor” in public and “Akiko” in private

• Kouyou likes to use her mafia money to send Yosano anonymous gifts on a whim. Yosano always knows who they’re from

• Yosano’s favorite physical trait of Kouyou’s is her hair, Kouyou likes Yosano’s sadistic smile

• Speaking of which, Yosano definitely appreciates having a relationship where they get to beat the shit out of each other on occasion. It keeps the spark alive

• But on dates or in settings that are generally more intimate, Yosano is a total gentleman. She def gives all her girls the princess treatment. Kouyou is used to being the one to spoil women so this makes her very flustered

• They had one big fight about Mori and ever since then they made a silent agreement never to bring him up. When things are tense he becomes an elephant in the room

• In traditional “ADA member has a PM-related secret” fashion, Kunikida was the last to find out about their relationship

• This is so completely random but they remind me of Kermit and Miss Piggy. Yosano is Kermit

• Kouyou pretends to be severely injured every time the PM and ADA team up so she has an excuse to see Yosano

• Yosano sends Kouyou pictures of particularly bad crime scenes or injuries at random to jump scare her

• Kouyou likes classical music and Yosano is a metalhead

That’s all I can think of for now, thank you for the ask!!

[eybefioro]

Weekly fic rec, by yours truly...

Even after all this, you still have time. It's cold, but soon enough, the season will change. We watch the snow fall, the days going by. We share stories, we get warm by the fireplace. There's still time, and there's still your favourite restaurant down the road. There's still your favourite show, there's still the hug from a loved one. There's still everything that makes time worthwhile.

on the same page by Chekhov

Rated E, ~118k words.

My tags: satisfying, entrancing, hopeful.

Summary

Aziraphale Z. Fell is a rising star of the spiritual literary genre - the next Eat Pray Love guy - and his version of Chicken Soup For the Christian Soul is flying off the shelves. It's not that he's not grateful, but it's one thing to enjoy a career in writing and another completely to be pigeonholed into a specific genre, so much so that you are almost forbidden from writing anything else. So yes, maybe he has a bit of a secret. An outlet for his less... appropriate urges. And yes, if his typical readership got word of the sort of paragraphs he could put out on a particularly inspired night, they might suffer some form of heart attack typical for their age. But all of that is well hidden, and there is absolutely no way anyone would ever find out about his Arrangement with A.J. Crowley - the most debaucherous romantic fiction author of the decade. That is... until they have to pretend to be married to each other.

I love me some long human AU. I love to read these long ones and let myself just fall into the story, see how everything develops, really dedicate some time to it, and immerse myself in this new universe. See the characters that we know so well in a complete different context but still being somewhat the same.

And this one does it so, so well. Crowley and Aziraphale are so true to their characters in this fic, and it's spun in such a way that even though it's a completely different background and situation, it's still so them. It's still the same story. Still the same absurd longing and dancing around that we see, and that's so wonderful! Idk how the author did it, but it's so impressive. Don't get me wrong, I don't think it's necessary to be accurate to the characters for a fanfic to be good. I feel like in every fic, they will be different, and that's GOOD. Fandom is a sandbox for us to play in. Nonetheless, I will say it again, this fic is impressive in that sense; their motivations, their story, their situation, the way they talk, how they think... it's very true to them. Besides that, the characters are all so well written. They feel real.

I love how the story is told. You don't get the whole picture at first, you don't understand their whole situation and relationship. You get feed details slowly, in the moments where they are needed, and just by the end you actually are able to sit and see it all. It's so engaging, and makes you understand both points of view. Why and how they endured all this time, all this longing.

Also, the thing about both of them being authors and writing each others books, and meeting through fanfiction? That was so genius. It scratched my brain so well. It's just so fitting, the whole arrangement is so well constructed. Aziraphale’s relationships with Gabriel, church and family is so well described. You can really get his way of thinking, and the choice he and Crowley constantly make to Not Talk About It, the one that makes you want to shove them in a room and make them fucking communicate, is... is totally understanble by the end. I was like, yeah, if I was in this situation I'd probably do the same, even if it makes me mad. I could relate a lot to Aziraphale and understand his thinking (although that may not be a surprise lol).

On that note: the use of the fake marriage trope is so well implemented and fits with the characters in the story in such a way that is uncanny. It really feels like something they'd think it's reasonable to do. This is such a idiotXidiot story it's infuriating in the best fucking away. It's so in sync with both seasons of the show, and it was written before season 2! But don't worry they end up together. It's like the author spun that and actually gave some closure, and made them fucking talk LMAO

Also, this fic deals with some sensitive topics, especially homophobia and its consequences, but it's done in such a sensible manner. Yes, they face some pretty bad shit (especially Aziraphale in the past), but they aren't told in a violent (?) manner? Like, the violence is not romanticised, it's not there for us bawl over. The characters deal with it and are triumphant in the end. They are resilient and strong, and even if they suffer because of homophobia, they get to rebuilt their lives and be happy. They get their good ending, and they win.

The writing in this fic is also incredible. I metaphors are delicious, the way the feelings are described, and how everything develops. It's just such a good read, keeping you on your toes. It's funny, it's sad, it's infuriating (as I said before, in a good way), it's hopeful, it's beautiful, it's hot. It's many things at the same time, but above all, it's satisfying. It makes you go through all those emotions with the characters, but by the end, you get to see them happy, free, and communicating. It's delightful writing. Really. There are some paragraphs that I will be thinking for a long time because they hit HARD.

This fic is like balancing craving and indulgence, like having a bar of chocolate that you just eat a little piece every day, because you want to make it last, only to then notice that you can buy more if you want to. It's like a good, deserved piece of cake that tastes like happiness.