#and I've done absolutely nothing ✨

[fingertipsmp3]

I love when I open the guidelines for next week's assignments and it literally makes no sense. I don't mind this

[gyuwoncheol]

Vantage Point | Meet the Characters & Series Masterlist

Status: Begins tomorrow (January 20)!

Pair: Mingyu × f.reader

Summary: Pulling off the "No Strings Attached" arrangement with his best-friend-turned-best-friend-with-benefits was easy, but when a new condition is added onto the mix, Mingyu didn't realise just how much he held onto you when you finally let go.

Genre: College au. BFFs to FWB trope. Fluff, Humor, Angst, Smut [chapters with smut will be indicated and will contain the necessary warnings]

Author’s Note: Please take time to read this before starting the series ☺️

Hello, my darlings! Finally getting round to posting this after missing the commited date last time due to covid. But welcome!!! 🥳 This is the first story to my Snap Shoot universe! Before you get into it, let me just point a few things. This is the first time I'm ever creating a universe with interwoven stories, and while I've done SMAUs before, this is the first one I've done for SVT and the first time I'm also this adventurous about it. It's definitely very different from what I post on here but I'm having lots of fun putting it together. I know it goes without saying, but I'll say it anyway, this is very much a work of fiction. This is an AU. While Korea may be the assumed setting for this series, it is not explicitly defined. I'm also trying to avoid using lots of Korean cultural references (maybe except for food) such as use of honorifics like "hyung". While many of my other works refrain from over-describing oc's physical features, you may find that in this series (and universe), oc's features will inevitably be defined. You'll find that the visuals of the characters and the aesthetic of the photos/social media posts will be Korean/ Asian. It's a SMAU, so i'll have to place photos and these photos must maintain consistent. I absolutely do not mean any ill intention of being non-inclusive (I don't even fit the same aesthetic as oc).

Again, it's a work of fiction, while I want you to relate to oc, kindly also allow me breathing space to build the character. If you feel uncomfortable at any point in the series, you are very much welcome to stop/unfollow. As mentioned, this is a SMAU, but it contains several chapters which are purely written narrations. All edits (texts, social media posts, etc.) were done by me, however some photos (esp those of Y/N) are from the web, if they are yours, please let me know so that I may credit you or remove the photo. The texts are all done on light mode. Deal with it. This follows a FWB trope, expect lots of smut and suggestive content— specific smut warnings will be available in chapters where they are present, along with other necessary warnings. This series will have lots of fluff and lots of crackhead nonsense humor. I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Biggest shoutout to my dearest friend @wongyuseokie who has been nothing but supportive through all of this and through all my dramatic Mingy-induced meltdowns. I love you more than you’ll ever know ♥️

Meet the Characters

Mingyu: Sophomore, studying Film & Photography, yn/Camie's best friend since childhood

Yn: Sophomore, studying Film & Photography with Mingyu, Mingyu's best friend since childhood. Nicknamed "Camie" by her group of friends for her highly concerning camera collection/obsession.

Seokmin: Sophomore, studying Film & Photography, same friend group as mingyu and yn, Mingyu & Wonwoo's housemate

Soonyoung: technically a year older than the 3, but currently a Sophomore with Gyu, Cam and Seokmin after shifting into their major

Wonwoo: Junior, studying Film & Photography as well, Mingyu's guy best friend and housemate in The Man Cave, a brotherly figure to OC, Soonyoung's former classmate in highschool

The Man Cave: shared house near their university where Mingyu, Wonwoo and Seokmin live, and Soonyoung often crashes.

✨Other characters/members will come as the series progresses.

Series Masterlist

To be populated as each chapter is posted. There is no posting schedule. Chapters will just get uploaded as they come.

Teaser

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five 🔞

Chapter Six 🔞

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Tag List!

@strawberryya @idyllic-ghost @septemberskies @ladyblablabla

If you want to be tagged as each chapter comes out, do send me an ask or reply to this post so I could include you in the tag list 😊

[virgo-barbie]

bimbo starter kit ✨💖

it can take a while for a bimbo to feel comfortable with cosmetic procedures, or even just to secure the necessary finances to take the next step in her journey! here are a list of things you can start on right away while you figure out the rest.

1. exercise! a bimbo's body is her best weapon. try to aim for a couple times a week at least. if you don't like running, try pilates, yoga, dance, anything. it's just important that you feel connected to your body in some way.

2. spray tans! for me, this really amps up my sex appeal. my skin has a golden hue that a spray tan really brings out. if i don't have time to go get professionally tanned biweekly, i'll use a tanning mousse instead. it gives a similar effect, but the spray tan is a bit more realistic.

3. manicure and pedicure! what is a bimbo without her claws? i personally love having acrylic nails. i don't have them right now because i can't have acrylics when i go in for my breast augmentation, but i almost always do otherwise. i like barbie pink or long white claws. both are very feminine and look great wrapped around the base of a cock or squeezing a beautiful boobie! having your toes done is also important - nobody wants to suck on and lick mangled feet, and you need to be prepared to be worshipped at any point in time.

4.new clothes! i literally threw everything out and started fresh with a wardrobe of basics. 5 pairs of tiny short shorts, about 20 basic tops in pink, white, and black. I am working my way up towards more exciting statement pieces and building up my shoe and purse collection, but this all takes time. In the meantime, you need clothes that look good on your body and show off your best assets. after my breast augmentation, i will be getting a bunch of new clothes from brands like skims, alo, for love & lemons, etc. for my more bimboish pieces, i kind of just shop around, but i think it's important to have a ton of basic pieces so you can create endless outfits. the mini skirts, fur coats and heels can come later - once you have things to wear them with that make you look super stylish and more importantly... show off your body.

5. get your hair done professionally! most bimbos like to be blonde (myself included) and unless you're already blonde to start with, i see absolutely no reason you should do this at home. save up some money and find a hair stylist in your town who specializes in blonde hair. you won't regret it, and there's nothing bimbo about having crusty, fried hair. if you're not certain if blonde is the best route for you (it probably is), ask a stylist! pink also looks adorable on bimbos with a more cutesy y2k style. a good haircut with some face framing layers can also completely change your whole look.

6. whiten your teeth! invest in a whitening foam and tray, or just use strips. i've had a similar effect with both.

7. get good with fake eyelashes! they elevate any makeup look from fresh to sexy. once you've had lip filler, lip gloss and lipstick will also become your new best friend.

8. silly little accessories! may i suggest a pink lollipop or bubblegum? this will help keep the attention on your perfect little mouth all day and will also give you something cute to distract yourself with while you fantasize about being used out in public.

[spidermans-l-o-v-e-r]

9-1-1 Masterlist

Oh gee finally a place I can keep these! Thank you to my bestest most amazing friend in the whole world for making these headers for me i literally actually literally could not do it without you

Two of a kind

Buck can’t stop thinking about his coworker, so he does what every guy at 3am does on a 24 hour shift!! He sneaks out to his car to get off. But it turns out, certain coworkers (that might possibly be the love of his life) have the exact same idea!

Fairest of Them All:

The party downstairs rages on as Buck decides to do something about the pretty little thing he’s been staring at all night

Clothing Optional:

I can’t. I can’t keep writing summaries. I’ve done 2

After a stupid work shift, in the stupid heat, Buck just wants to enjoy a sweet little sundae, fortunately it comes with a side of dat ass (I’m not sorry)

That Should Be Me:

Buck has never ever been jealous ever a single damn day in his life

Gamer Girl

Buck thinks you’re so, so pretty. You’d looked even prettier with your thighs around his head

Now You See Me:

✨Mirror sex✨

Growing Pains:

Everything is all wonderful and cool and dandy until you nearly die from your appendix!!

(I KNOW. THERE IS. AN AMBULANCE.)

Cry To Me:

Eddie loves when you’re crying during sex, nothing turns him on more… except when those tears are very very real and he’s very very worried

10 Things I Hate About You:

You guys freaking h a t e each other… or do you? Wink wink wink wink enemies to lovers wink

I Spy:

Eddie is the sweetest neighbor in the entire world… who knows where you work

Better Than Revenge:

You and Eddie get locked into a closet at your job after an accident, it also turns out your now EX boyfriend is a cheating asshole! Eddie has absolutely no problem filling in for the revenge role

Front Row:

Why do firehouses have to work f o r e v e r. Eddie needs a freaking shower and to pass out for the next six years on an overnight shift. It turns out someone has the same idea, and possibly another idea on how to left off some steam

Yeti Point:

Eddie finally takes you on that skiing vacation you’ve been begging him for and it’s going great! Until you get snowed in. But that’s okay, Eddie has a secret plan to keep you both warm

Slow and Steady:

Buck helps Eddie into the house, holding him up as you frantically get the bed ready for your injured boyfriend. Turns out, pain killers make Eddie horny!

(Hahahahahaha)

Encanto:

Dad!Eddie x Daughter!reader

Nightmares never get easier no matter how old you get. Especially ones where your father dies

Smoke Dector:

Eddie always has to be the hero, okay not really but it’s hard when you see your boyfriend running into a burning building for the first time

One Puff Or Two:

Take your freaking inhaler Eddie 🔪🔪🔪

Into The Fire:

(PTSD WARNING, PANIC ATTACK WARNING)

You’ve been on edge lately, and Eddie knows there’s something up. One night things come to a head when you have a nightmare about what happened and Eddie wakes up to a very bad situation

Night Changes:

Eddie comforts you after a bad nightmare about him dying over and over in different ways (based off of 5.14)

Busy Bees:

Two words ✨Sex Pollen✨

Soup or Salad?

✨I’ll freaking summarize this later✨

A Rose by any Other Name

This is one of the funniest titles I've ever made up. Buck finds your simple collection of toys and shows them to Eddie... and now they want you to put on a little show for them

Finish Line:

A little game of "whoever cums first loses"

Twice Bitten:

Double Penetration from my kinktober list!

Alexander Hamilton:

Buck can't stop having feelings for Eddie's girlfriend... but what if that's okay?

[rosescarlette]

-> Zhongli being a girl dad!✨

-> Zhongli being the type of dad that's absolutely overprotective of his daughter, he wouldn't let any guy come close to his daughter. Always protecting his precious gem.

-> One day you even found Zhongli in a ridiculous state with your daughter which you couldn't help but laugh about.

"Daddy! Can we play princesses and tea parties please??"

"Hm. I am still in the middle of finishing something."

"Aw.. :("

Seeing your daughter's sad face he couldn't refuse.. so he decided to play for a while. He spoke with his signature smile.

"Alright. I will play then. But only for an hour."

"Really?! Yay! I'll go get my dollies and stuff!!"

He heard her footsteps running to her room to grab her stuff. He couldn't help but give a hearty chuckle.

"Alright I've got my things! But.. there's something missing.."

"Hm? Missing? Like what?"

"This party was only for princesses but you're a guy!"

"O-oh is that so?.."

"But that's okay! We can dress you up!! Follow me!!"

You were out shopping for stuff while your daughter went to your bedroom and opened your closet. Zhongli was beside her all along.

"Why are we in your mother's room? She would be quite mad at us if we broke anything."

Your daughter just ignored him completely and was still searching in your closet until she found a pretty dress.

"Okay put this on! This is very gorgeous! Mommy has so many pretty dresses.."

"Ah I remember gifting her th-"

"No lectures put it on!!!"

"Alright alright."

As both of them were playing in your daughter's bedroom. You had come home from shopping and seen that zhongli is not at his usual place. Which is quite odd. However there was indeed a lot of noise coming from her room so you decided to check it out.

"What's going on here?"

Both of them immediately froze. Not only that, the bedroom was quite messy.

"Wait a second. Is that my dress?"

Zhongli was in a tough spot. He didn't know what else to do. And your daughter immediately told what happened with joy.

"Mommy! Isn't daddy looking good?"

"Hm.. let me see."

That's when you saw zhongli in a ridiculous state. Girly makeup which was not well done. But he was very proud of how he looked. So he immediately became serious.

"What?"

"Nothing.. just wondering how you look so fine today."

"Yes. I am very pretty."

"Yes!! See!! He looks very beautiful as a princess!!"

You died out laughing that moment.

"Ah yes.. I suppose he does look gorgeous. In my dress that too. So how was your tea party my dear? Hm?"

Zhongli would never forget that smirk of yours ever since. He was quite proud of how he looked because his daughter had done the makeup but none the less he sighed and spoke up.

"Yes it's very good. Now if you don't disturb us please."

That's when you noticed.. that they weren't playing with the toy tea set. But with the actual tea set. They had a real tea set.

"Hm? So you made the tea?"

"Yes. Would you like to have a cup of tea?"

Still seeing him in that attire, you still broke out laughing and gave in to his offer.

"Alright fine. I'll join in. However would the two of you like to have some cake to go along with it?"

"Cake?"

"Yay cakes! I thought you had forgotten mommy! Thanks!"

"Ah no big deal."

"Yay now there's one thing missing.."

"And what that might be?"

"You! We need you to be properly dressed!!"

"o-Oh?"

Before you know it you had also worn a pretty gown and make up done by your daughter. Zhongli had a smirk the whole time you both were spending time with your daughter. And now it was his turn to quietly laugh at you.

Rather that it was quite an enjoyable day.

-> Like I said again he also hates when some boy likes his daughter. How dare that person!

"Dad I am officially a grownup!!"

"HUH?! WHEN. HOW. WHERE."

"Calm down zhongli. I mean she's nearly a teenager now-"

"I TOLD YOU DEAR! ITS THE CHICKEN. NOW WHAT-"

"I got a letter!"

Both of you were confused.

"Whats the letter supposed to mean?"

"It means someone loves me mom!"

Is it a love letter my dear?"

"Yes!! I-"

"Who's the guy."

"Zhongli cool down it's just a letter."

"My absolute dearest. I just want to talk to that guy."

"Zhongli you're out to kill him aren't you?"

"..."

"Answer the question."

"..."

"Zhongli?"

"Yes."

"Come on love it's just a letter.."

"No."

"I am not gonna talk you out of this am I?"

"Yes."

"Zhongli no killing."

"Ok dearest."

"..."

"But you didn't say not to hit him with a meteorite."

"ZHONGLI NO-"

-> Let's just say it's a chaotic night.

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

Note: IVE ACCIDENTALLY DELETED THIS AND I DIDN'T EVEN SAVE IT AS A DRAFT SO IF YOU NOTICE THIS AGAIN.. YES IT HAS CHANGES 😭😭 AM SO SORRY😭😭

[words-etched-in-her-skin]

The continuation for that Alcina fic was fucking deliciousssssss skdjfskldfj

It got me thinking, I'm not sure if you've written a fic like this before or if you would even write one like this, but I was wondering what that situation (or one similar to it) would look like from Alcina's POV?

Hello, dears ♥️ In preparation for reaching ✨1,750 followers✨, I've been working on a little fic that was inspired by both this ask 🔺🔺🔺 (thank you 👀 I'm so glad you liked it jdhddjkd) , as well as this incredible piece of fanart!

But first and foremost:

Thank you all for following! 💋

And as for the request, here you go! Written from Alcina's POV and just under 3k words 👀 I hope some of you will enjoy it! 😁♥️

The Lady found herself in a foul mood as she made her way back into the castle. Met with nothing but absolute silence as she opened the large doors and walked into the even larger foyer. Of course, she expected no one else to be awake at this hour, save for her daughters who were still out on the hunt. Though, as she made her way slowly up the staircase, a faint sound could be heard traveling its way softly through the corridors. A quiet, subtle melody hummed just barely loud enough to be heard. But, of course, she heard it. She heard everything that happened within those castle walls - even when she cared not to.

“The audacity.. sneaking out at this hour.” She grumbled to herself, following the haunting sound. Her foul mood turning even more sour when she realized that her hopes of getting directly into a hot, soothing bath had been swiftly thwarted. Instead making it so she'd likely have to discipline someone instead. She sighed as the voice grew louder, leading her directly into the library.

A Countess' work is never done, Alcina, she thought to herself tiredly. Of course it wasn't. Why should she be able to enjoy the solitude of a hot bath and a glass of her favorite wine after running through the woods chasing after man-things all night? She huffed at the air, frustrated - irritation riddling her weary bones as she opened the doors to the large room - the soft humming immediately halting as she did.

“There's no use in hiding, dear. I may be tired, but I can still smell you from here.”

A murmured curse in response from a voice she knew all too well. She sighed again.

“Draga.. of all the nights to be breaking curfew..”

The Countess was in no mood and she could feel her patience wearing thinner by the minute. Of all people.

“Come out, pet, now.” She ordered through gritted teeth.

Slowly, the figure of her current paramour came hesitantly out from behind the bookstacks and into view. Skin pale and a look of sheer panic on their face.

“Alcina-”

“I don't believe now is the time for such informalities.” She responded sternly, cutting them short.

They swallowed nervously. “Right, of course. S-sorry, my lady. I.. I thought you were out for the night?”

Alcina scoffed. “As if that gives you the right to be disobeying my direct orders? Hm? Traipsing around the castle at all hours of the night.”

“N-no… it's just.. I-”

“Save it, pet. I am in no mood for excuses and you're the last person I wanted to have to discipline tonight.”

She rubbed the bridge of her nose and moved further into the room. A profound wave of exhaustion washing over her that forced a slight stumble to her stride.

When was the last time she had even fed? She wondered.

“My lady? Are.. are you alright?”

“It's nothing.” She snarled.

“Countess.. I am.. very sorry for disappointing you. And I know you're angry with me.” The human’s voice softened a little as they moved closer to her, fidgeting anxiously with their fingers. “But, if there is anything I can do? You know, to help.”

“There is.” She growled, “You can start by not being so incompetent!”

This time the words that came out were raw, primal - dipped in venom - the dragon within her inching closer and closer to the surface as her need to feed grew stronger. Albeit, the moment she saw her handservant flinch - coiling back at her words - she couldn't help but soften. Sighing, she turned to face them.

“I am sorry, draga. I seemed to have lost myself. While, yes, I am disappointed that you disobeyed the rules of this castle - you did not.. deserve that.” Alcina sat down in the chair closest to the fireplace and took a deep breath, her body overcome with exhaustion. “I fear it has been too long since I last fed. Which makes being around me at the moment rather.. dangerous. It would be for the best that you return to your quarters for now, pet. I'll deal with your punishment in the morning.”

“Oh. Of course, my lady.”

They bowed and then turned to leave before pausing.

“Uh.. Alcina?” They asked tentatively.

The Countess looked up, eyes heavy. “Hm?”

“Ah, if I may - you could.. use me.. if you wanted?”

Alcina raised an eyebrow. “Use you? How?”

“Ah.. heh.. that is, to feed? From me?”

The Countess stared blankly, shocked for a moment before shaking her head. “That's not necessary, draga. I have everything I need in my room.”

“I'm aware.. but.. you know. You're obviously quite exhausted and I'm.. well, I'm right here.”

They gave her a crooked little smile that she couldn't help but chuckle at.

“If you're trying to get out of your punishment, pet-”

“N-no! I'll fully accept whatever punishment you deem appropriate. I just.. want to help, is all.”

“Mmh..” The lady hummed in thought, mulling their very tempting offer. She was exhausted, this was true. And it'd been longer than she could recall since she’d had the taste of fresh blood in her mouth. Warm and pulsing and straight from the tap.

Still..

With the dragon in her so close to the surface, the worries of her losing control were imminent. And the thought of losing yet another partner - one as sweet and caring as they were, again - was almost too much of a thought to handle. Alcina physically shuddered at the thought, the warmth from the fire doing very little to calm her worries. Worries that her handservant must have quickly picked up on. Small fingers sliding into her own and a kind face looking up at her as they kneeled on the castle floor in front of her.

“Hey, I trust you.”

Alcina snorted. “Famous last words, pet.”

They chuckled softly. “How about this then.. is there maybe another part of my body that would be safer to drink from? Than say, my neck?”

The Lady smirked. “Mh, perhaps... your inner thigh would probably work.”

Alcina watched as a soft pink hue began to crawl across the human's cheeks. It was strikingly gorgeous basked in the firelight.

“O-oh.. well, ah.. that seems.. doable.”

A flash of crimson as her smirk widened. Her lover’s heartbeat quickening by the minute, thumping loudly over the soft crackle of the fire.

“Mhm.. are you certain? It may… hurt, quite a bit.”

Oh, how that blush grew even deeper at the Countess’ words. How exquisite it was. Alcina could feel the smugness seeping into the corners of her lips as she watched them fluster.

“I.. oh.. that's okay. I don't mind, my lady. R-really.” They replied, rubbing the back of their neck.

Not that they would've been the first of Alcina's suitors to be into pain. Far from it, in fact - it seemed to be a commonality in many of the lovers she had taken over the years. Whether it was just something that came with the territory - or more the fact that whenever they looked at her they found themselves thinking “big lady, break me” - either way, it was a noticeably recurring occurrence in the Countess’ love life.

“Very well.” Alcina replied, rising from the chair to her full height. “Pull up your skirt, pet, and take a seat.”

As dutiful as ever, her servant quickly obeyed and took their Lady's place on the large chair. A coy smile on their face as they pulled the simple fabric of their uniform past their upper thighs, exposing their supple flesh along with their dampened undergarments.

“Like this?” They asked with a smirk.

“Bold time for you to be acting bratty, pet. Don't you think?”

“Ah.. m-maybe?” They answered sheepishly.

“Mhm.”

And even though the Countess’ tone remained firm, she could only shake her head and chuckle as she lowered herself down to the fresh, warm meal that waited for her. A deep flush decorating the human’s cheeks as the Lady knelt in front of them, hands spreading their legs a little further apart for her.

“O-oh.. uh.”

The Countess looked at them curiously before leaning back. “If you're having second thoughts, pet-”

“N-no! I just.. ah.. this view is just.. really nice.”

An even smugger smirk grew across the Lady's lips. “Mhm.. is it now?”

“I mean.. yes?”

“Enjoy it while it lasts then, draga.. very rarely does one ever get me on my knees.”

The flushed servant almost choked in response as they quickly nodded, face as red as their employer’s lips.

“I.. mhm.. enjoying it. Yes.”

“Mh.. probably wet at just the sight, aren't you?” Alcina asked teasingly, forcing them to whine.

“A-alcinaa.. that's unfair.”

“And that's not an answer.”

The Countess' words grew a little darker, punctuating them with a firm scratch across the human's inner thigh, immediately pulling droplets of warm crimson to the surface.

They cursed. “Fine.. yes.. I am.”

“Mh.. good.”

A single sweep of her tongue over the fresh gash forced another whine from her lover, a fierce shiver rolling over their body. Alcina knew she was going to enjoy all of this maybe a little too much - but the needy sounds she could will from their lips was something she would never grow tired of. And as she leaned in a little further, with their metallic essence still warm in her mouth, she could smell just how aroused they already were.

Very good.

"Deep breaths now, pet. This is going to sting.”

They nodded softly in response, cheeks a brilliant hue and eyes widening the moment the Countess’ incisors began to lengthen, readying themselves to feed. Another swirl of her tongue over the spot she'd already marked. A rush of blood right below the surface, drawing the vampire directly to the proper vein. And as she gave her meal a final smirk, she took their thigh between two large hands and brought it to her mouth.

“Mmmph-!”

Whimpered breaths from her prey’s lips as sharp fangs seeped eagerly into their flesh.

“Mmmh.”

A subtle moan from within her own as she slowly drew their essence into her mouth, savoring the exquisite flavor of them. They tasted even better than she’d imagined - sweeter, more refined - with metallic undertones fueled by a life force that only made her all the more hungry.

“You taste divine, draga.” Alcina murmured, her words reverberating deep into their skin before her fangs were sunk back in again.

“Ah-!”

The subtle flinch to the muscle that laid just beneath her teeth, the soft moan that fell from their whispered lips - the Countess knew if she didn't keep her control that she could very easily become ravenous for their taste. The pulse of it flowing warmly over her tongue as she swallowed it down, indulging herself in the life that danced throughout it.

They would surely make an excellent wine.

And even though the thought was morbid to most - to Alcina, it was merely a compliment. One of the highest in fact. Though, she found all the best tasting humans tended to be the ones she had no desire of actually killing. Ones that inherently touched her heart and moved her soul. But hell if she didn't appreciate any chance she got at a taste.

Her lover's growing moans were the only thing to bring her back from her thoughts - from giving into the primal force that always sat just under the skin - ready to take over. But gods, could she smell how wet they were for her. How their body squirmed every time she drew a long pull of blood from them. Their flesh heated against her lips, their strong musk enveloping the tiny space between them. And out of the corner of her eye, Alcina could even see that the chair beneath the human was readily growing damper.

”Good”. She thought smugly, a smirk beneath her blood coated lips when she finally pulled away to look up at them.

"Am I to believe you're actually enjoying this, draga? Are you really so needy?”

They whined at her ridicule, squirming even more - her teasing tone and slightly taunting words having the exact effect on them that she wanted.

“You will answer me if you expect something done about it.” She demanded.

Another whine.

“F-fuck.. yes, okay? It's.. it feels good.”

“Mh. Better.”

The Lady placed a gentle kiss to their inner thigh and then brought two fingers to the hem of their underwear, swiftly ripping the fabric from their body. Her patented smirk growing even wider the moment the measure of their arousal was reflected in the firelight - they were absolutely dripping for her.

“Well, well.. all this for me?”

“All for you. A-always.”

“Charming, are we?”

Alcina went to move a little closer but felt them tense, immediately making her stop. A single eyebrow raised at them inquisitively.

“Draga?”

“It's just.. you're exhausted, Alcina.. you don't have to-”

“Hush. When have you ever known me to do something I haven't wanted?”

They chuckled, blushing sheepishly. “You have a point.”

“Plus,” she smirked, “I'm not quite finished with my meal yet.”

An even deeper blush. “O-oh. Alright, then.”

The Countess hummed in content when her lover finally relaxed, their head falling softly back. Their sweet scent immediately pulling her back in, lips quickly finding their pulse point while her fingers teased their entrance. With soft folds so wet that she found barely any resistance as she slid two fingers into them, generously stretching their core.

“Mmph-!”

A single curl as the Countess closed her eyes, allowing her fangs to sink deep into the human’s flesh once again.

“F-fuck-”

She couldn't help but to draw her gaze upward, to enjoy the view for just a moment. Her stunning love - flushed, legs spread - eyes closed softly in a mix of want and preparation. It truly were a shame, she thought, how mortal humans could be. To lose such a gorgeous sight was an offense to Alcina’s very being. That the world could ever lose such beauty? It was a thought that made her all the more eager - almost ravenous - to possessively stake her claim upon them.

To which she did..

With the Lady's fangs seeped deep within their flesh and her fingers buried in their core. Thrusting, curling. Matching the controlled pulls from their thigh as she feasted upon them. With each movement willing the most arousing sounds from her lover. Some breathy, some loud - moaning each and every time Alcina drove her fingers in a little harder. But it wasn't enough, not for her. The Countess wanted more. She wanted her name screamed out into the night in ecstasy. She wanted her claim imprinted into the stars themselves.

And she paid no mind to how many orgasms ripped across her lover's body. She cared not for how soaked both her fingers and the fabric below her became. Having now fed to her content, her mouth began moving onto marking the rest of their thighs. Nibbling and sucking over every inch of eager flesh that she could reach. Their essence dripping from the corners of her mouth and painting their skin in a dark crimson. Their body trembling, vibrating with desire until another orgasm ripped through them violently, finally forcing the Countess’ name from their tongue like a pious prayer. Their voice quickly falling to nothing more than a whisper - raw from unhindered pleasure.

“F-fuck, Alcina..”

“Mh, language.”

“Pretty sure.. it's warranted.”

Alcina chuckled before licking the excess blood from her lover's wounds, their thighs sufficiently covered in her claim.

“These should heal in a few days. I'll bring you some balm for them tomorrow.”

“Hm.. I like them, though.” The human pouted.

The Countess snorted. “Of course you do. My sweet little masochist.”

Feeling fully refreshed from her meal, Alcina had no intention of sleeping anytime soon, but she knew her handservant would certainly need rest after all of that. The loss of blood mixed with the intense dopamine boost would be enough to wipe anyone out. Without muttering a word, Alcina rose to her full height and picked up her lover's discarded underwear before lifting them up into her arms and into a full bridal carry.

“My lady-!”

“Hush, draga. You've lost a fair amount of blood, as well as other bodily fluids. You need to rest.” Even with the short walk from the library to the servants quarters, the body in her arms quickly grew heavy with sleep - the human’s breath nearly in a slumbered rhythm by the time they’d arrived.

“I’ll be back with some tea and something sweet for you, pet.” She said as she laid them gently onto their bed. “Please, try to drink and eat at least a little something before falling asleep.”

Her lover nodded tiredly, eyes heavy and cheeks flush with sleep.

“Mhm.. yes.. mistress…”

Alcina smiled and placed a tiny kiss to their cheek before walking towards the door. She was more than certain they'd be fast asleep by the time she returned, but she’d still do her best to make sure they woke up knowing just how much she treasured them.

Warm tea, their favorite pastry, some balm for their wounds and a note reading "Thank you for the exquisite meal, draga. Next time is on me. - xx, Alcina." would be there to greet them as soon as they woke up.

A/N: If I ever make it to 2k, I might just finally do some bottom!Alcina for you all 👀♥️

[intimidatingpuffinstudios]

Manerkol Q&A from Old Patreon

Hey, guys!

I've been getting asks lately about that one Manerkol interview I did for Patreon in the early days of TSSW.

It's not available anywhere right now, but people are asking for it, so I figured, why not gift it to all of you? 🤩✨

Warning, this features an MC who is into Manerkol choking them, so tread with caution 🤣

Hope you enjoy your little Manerkol dose, folks!

What was the experience of the aftermath of losing the MC at the end of the first book and knowing that your soul mate is working against the destiny you've pursued for so long. How do you reconcile that emotionally?

A razor-sharp red gaze pins you to the spot, the full weight of Manerkol's attention pushing against your shoulders, making you swallow thickly to dispel the silently menacing atmosphere. The Lord of all sits elegantly on his throne, but he is not speaking at all.

He sits entirely still—except from the steady tapping of a lone finger against the armrest of his throne, the claw-like ornament he wears making an ominous clicking sound against the cold marble. The temperature drops more and more with every second that passes until you are shivering as you stand before his statuesque form.

When he finally opens his mouth to speak, you are so shaken that you're ready to beg for forgiveness for daring to question him in this manner.

"I need reconcile nothing. Having a soulmate is unexpected—but it changes nothing in the grand scheme of my design. They will yield to me in the end like everyone else did before them—and they will be glad for the opportunity to do so."

What starts as an emotionless tone soon turns to menacing, then settles at smug. A dark smirk pulls at the Lord's full lips, his mercurial attention suddenly not as suffocating as before.

"You amuse me," he praises you in a condescending tone. "You may continue."

Do you have a fave ice cream flavor? What about favorite color? Did you ever have a pet crow? How would you react to his soulmate showing you their pet rock/marimo and calling it your child?

The figure sitting upon his imposing throne listens patiently as you unleash a slew of questions upon him, his face an expressionless mask that gives no indication of what he thinks of about your queries. As soon as you're done asking, a moment passes in silence.

Nothing moves, Manerkol appearing like a pale, cold statue, not breathing, not shifting in the slightest. Then he slowly tilts his head at you, and his lips thin—the stare of absolute pity and disgust he gives you could not be faked in a million years.

"I do not enjoy ice cream. Black. I have an entire country full of animal familiars. And…" He enunciates these answers with deliberate slowness as if he's addressing a toddler not quick on the uptake—or something else equally insulting. And yet he pauses for a moment on the last question.

He slowly blinks, and a barely-there sigh leaves his lips, his expression growing pinched—except for the softening of his red eyes, a softness he does not bother to hide. Whether it's because he is unashamed of it or because he thinks you so inferior that your opinion doesn't matter, no one but the Gods can tell.

"My soulmate can claim whatever they please—rocks, creatures, anything that strikes their fancy. The world is theirs to play with." A tiny smirk pulls at his lips, and you can breathe more easily now that he appears more entertained than disgusted with you.

You do note, however, that he didn't answer the child part of the question and consider whether to press the issue. You open your mouth—only to promptly close it when the room temperature plummets abruptly, and black, misty tendrils start blooming at the edges of the room.

"You may continue. Or is this perhaps your last question?" The emphasis put on "last" is barely noticeable—and yet the meaning it conveys is as clear as a bell's toll. Time to move on!

Do you still have feelings for Ithilmir? If you do, how would you react to seeing them again now that you're bonded with the MC?

"…Feelings. For Ithilmir?" The words are breathed out so softly that you barely heard them, and Manerkol remains as passive on his throne as ever. There is nothing to warn you of the danger you have put yourself in, no change in tone; no tell that could prepare for what's to come.

One minute you're looking at the High King and asking your question, and the next… The next, you are flung across the room by a backhanded slap you couldn't have seen coming if your life depended on it. Manerkol stepped through time and space with more speed than your human eyes could ever hope to track, his wrath burning out the oxygen in the room.

Or maybe that's just the black tendrils that seize your flying body before you hit the opposite wall, the shadowy vines wrapping around your throat and squeezing. You gasp, and you thrash, your cheek a field on fire—but then you grow suddenly still as Manerkol materializes in front of you.

Your only consolation is that he could have killed you if he wanted—but he didn't, and that means you may still have a chance. So you stay absolutely still, curbing down the impulse to claw at the tendrils, scream and plead. Or even worse, fight.

The tendrils around your throat dissolve only to be replaced by his cold, merciless hand, his long fingers wrapping around the defenseless column as his thumb digs cruelly into your pulse point. His red eyes are two points of icy wrath, and yet the rest of him seems weirdly tranquil.

"If I ever had the misfortune of seeing Ithilmir in the flesh again, I would react in the only way possible. I would grind their bones to dust under my boot, pluck out their eyes, feed them their own tongue. And if they ever thought of even looking at my soulmate, I'd make sure that their experience lasts for centuries."

His voice is neutral, with no inflection, no emotion. Or at least until he gets to the part about his soulmate. Then it turns ice cold, murderous to the point when each word feels like a spear of ice dragged along your skin, every rise and fall slicing strips of agonizing sensation into your flesh.

You gasp as the statue-like hand squeezes your throat one last time—and then Manerkol's wrath breaks, a sly grin breaking out as he takes in your shuddering form. He lets you go without preamble, and you crumple to the floor in a heap, coughs wracking your body.

"Hmm, why don't you ask me about Ithilmir again? I enjoyed your last question," he prompts in a light tone, far too cordial to be anything but a mockery, a threat. His fangs peek out of his full lips with his smile, and he pets your head with one hand as if you were an animal he is rewarding for amusing him.

Within the next second, he is back at his throne, lounging elegantly, that sickening grin of amusement still pulling at his lips as he watches you struggle to your feet. Welp. You should be grateful you're still alive, you guess.

What happened to Ithilmir? How did you manage to escape the god of death?

He does not look surprised that you persist in this line of questioning. Instead, he tilts his head and lets his chin rest on the palm of his hand as he balances it against the armrest of his imperial throne. He is still smiling, his red eyes glimmering, and you feel like a mouse caught in a cat's cruel game.

The High King's amusement suddenly feels ten times more dangerous than his anger, and you get the dreadful feeling that once your questions end, you may end alongside them. You struggle to stay upright, your legs shaking with your terror, your hands fists at your sides.

Manerkol watches it all with that same gleeful smile. It's not often that one can see him like this—taking pleasure from the suffering of creatures inferior to him is not something he usually does. But you must have gotten under his skin pretty bad if he's taking such perverse pleasure at your suffering.

And the High King, in all his magnanimous generosity, deigns to answer one more Ithilmir question for you.

"Ithilmir got exactly what they deserved. The plans they had—thwarted. Their shrines—destroyed. Their worship—ended. The fate they had planned for me, I enforced upon them instead. And now? Now all that's left of them is their impotent tears."

The satisfaction he takes from this declaration is apparent for all to see, the recollection of how he utterly crushed Ithilmir. If you needed any more evidence of how dangerous this man is, you now have it before you. He defeated a God. And then went on to eradicate most of them from the face of Talhamsyn.

The same man staring down at you with twisted amusement playing in the red depths of his eyes has made an entire country bow to his will. Your presence here is tolerated—so long as you prove more entertaining than annoying. A chill runs down your spine as the Lord of All licks his top lip slowly, his eyes tracking the way you swallow thickly.

His fangs peek out once more, and you're 100% percent sure that the move is calculated.

"Continue, pet," he urges in a smooth tone, deep and sensual. You're moments away from getting your throat ripped out, you just know it.

How do you maintain your hair to stay so fabulous?

A lilting chuckle bursts forth from his lips, yet despite the mirth behind the sound, it's not pleasant. Or maybe it is if one enjoys being mocked and looked down upon. The High King moves his hand and trails it over his ebony hair in an entirely enticing, ridiculing manner.

Taunting you with the perfection that will never be yours.

"Is that truly a serious question? Are you looking for beauty tips, perhaps?" he asks in a dulcet tone, his lips quirked, his gaze pitying. He runs his fingers through the ebony locks, and you think you can smell the scent of jasmine wafting through the air.

"My excuses, pet. I'm afraid no amount of tips could ever help you with…that." He waves with his hand in the general direction of your head, and if not for the entirely patronizing tone, one might think that the sympathy reflected in his red gaze was genuine.

As things stand, however, the sinister smirk leveled your way eradicates any hope of getting an answer out of him. And it makes you wonder… Has he sincerely answered any of your questions until now? Aside from saying that his favorite color is black…

What would break your heart? What would mend it whole again?

An imperious eyebrow raised in disbelief is the only answer you get for a moment as Manerkol's red gaze sweeps over you, probably gauging if you're being serious or not. For a fraction of a second, his lips thin, and his fingers grip the armrest tightly.

But the reaction is gone so fast that you wonder if maybe you imagined it altogether.

"You are assuming I have one—and based on that assumption, you speculate further that I'd care about its workings. My heart, existing or not, is inconsequential. All that matters is my will, my design for this world. Everything else is of little import."

The emotionless response is delivered in a dead tone, emphasizing the King's point. You would have no doubt whatsoever that this heartless man means every word he said—if not for the way his gaze shifts to the left for a moment, focusing in a memory or thought that only he can see.

There's a flash of loss, but it's wiped away within the blink of an eye, leaving behind nothing but impenetrable stone, an icy veneer that no warmth can ever hope to penetrate. Except perhaps for the person who had him looking away in the first place.

"You are treading on thin ice, creature. I'm growing bored with your inanity. Choose your next words wisely." The threat is delivered in so casual a tone that it sends needles of apprehension pricking down your spine, and you swallow thickly as you prepare for your next question.

What would have been the plan of action, had the wielders not torn you away from your soulmate?

This time the vampire obviously grits his teeth, his patience for you growing thin exponentially. The glare he throws your way is feral, a savage hunger hiding behind it—if it's merely for your blood or your demise, you cannot be sure.

His gorgeous features turn sharp, bestial, his cheekbones becoming more prominent, the jut of his jaw even more pronounced. You don't know if he's using magic to create this illusion of if it's a product of his vampirism, but as two unnaturally big red eyes pin you to the spot, you very much feel ready to wet your pants.

"You'd presume to know my plans, creature? Should I perhaps draw you a diagram with every decision I've ever made in my 2000 years, every single choice that led to this point? Or perhaps you'd prefer a bullet point list with the most important points summarized?"

If not for his now wildly unsettling aura and appearance, one might assume that he's genuinely offering to do these things for you. He's obviously being sarcastic, but his tone is so deadpan that it messes with your brain, even more so than your perception of his distorted face.

"And never mention that day to me again." This time, the quiet menace is not concealed—you blink in desperation to dispel the sweat that has fallen into your eyes, making them sting. But as your vision clears, so does Manerkol's visage.

He is sitting opposite you, as regal and gorgeous as ever, his expression a mask of carefully cultivated disinterest. And yet the heaviness of the moment lingers, warning you of what is going on beneath his glacial surface. You are moments away from being disposed of—and when the Lord of All elegantly rises from his throne and starts walking towards you with exaggerated care, you know that your moment of death might just be upon you.

But you just can't stop asking questions.

Can you use magic, and if so, would you teach it to your soulmate?

The answer this time is instant, no deliberation, almost as if Manerkol has decided that the time to play around is over, and he'll grant you whatever questions you manage to get out before he reaches you. Each step closer is one step further into your own doom. And yet you can't help but watch helplessly the deadly elegance that is his movements.

"I am the greatest sorcerer to have ever lived, and there is no power or knowledge that I'd deny my soulmate. Not as long as they don't intend to use it against me." The answer is matter-of-fact, sterile. As if he's answering what should be obvious.

You realize that maybe you should start walking backward to create as much distance between you and him as possible—and to your surprise, he allows it. He doesn't fasten his gait, his long legs eating up the space between you in unhurried steps.

He knows that there's nowhere for you to go, and so do you. Your only chance of survival is either an act of the Gods, or another mercurial swing of his mood, changing his intentions from deadly to tolerating. But as he stalks you across the room, silent, his sleek muscles moving under the fabric of his form-fitting robes, a predator in all but name…

You can't see how you might be saved, and so you do the only thing left for you to do. As your back hits a wall behind you, signaling that your time is up, you shoot another question at him. Your last one.

What's your ideal date?

The question is ludicrous, especially considering the situation. But your mind is drawing a blank, terror stealing away your higher thinking, and this is the only thing that popped up in your brain. But by some stroke of unimaginable luck, it makes Manerkol pause in his pursuit of you.

He stops moving a mere couple paces away from you—then he raises one elegant hand and presses it to his eyes as a deep chuckle rumbles in the frigid air between you. You suddenly realize that the temperature in the room has fallen significantly, drugging you, slowing down your reactions.

Not that you believe that Manerkol needs another edge over you—there is no competition here. You watch, scared out of your wits as his shoulders shake with his mirth, his upper face hidden behind his hand. Then that hand moves to swipe his hair from over his shoulder and back down his back, making another explosion of jasmine scent saturate your senses.

"My soulmate and I in one of the deep or high places of the world, safe, unreachable, feasting on the blood of whatever poor fool happened to cross our way." The words have a teasing quality to them, like he's joking with you—only, you're at the butt of the joke.

His gaze sharpens on you, glimmering and beautiful, arrogant and pitying—but you can see that he's amused, even as he threatens to feast upon your blood. Because that's exactly what his answer was. Or maybe he honestly thinks that what he described is the ideal, the undoubtedly perfect, the mother of all dates.

Who are you to judge a Vampire Lord's taste in dates, after all? And yet you can't shake the feeling that every single answer he gave you is not what it seems, not what he truly means—nothing but a game he played to entertain himself for a while. There are kernels of truth in every response, but what goes unspoken is far more important.

But alas, you will never get to figure out this game of riddles the High King played with you—he steps up to you languidly, breaching the last of the distance between you, and his tall form looms over you, imposing and deadly. He reaches out with one fine-boned hand, cupping your cheek.

The chill of his touch seeps into you, putting you under, freezing your blood, and the Lord leans down, his thumb stroking over your cheekbone. Then he smiles.

"Time's up," he murmurs in a drugging voice, the timbre turning your mind into a hazy fog. There's nothing sexual about his touch or the situation in general—the quality is more that of a benevolent parent, lulling their tired child to sleep,

You amused him, after all. You have earned yourself the privilege of death without pain. It's time for you to sleep. The room around you dissolves into a barren landscape, grey and lifeless, with mist swirling around your feet. You realize suddenly that this is nothing but a dream.

And yet the realization is a faraway thing, nothing that affects you now. You know all too well about Manerkol's ability to kill people in their sleep. You hazily wonder what information he meant to take from you, what his mind was searching for as your brain conjured up this scenario of your interviewing the High King, probably to protect itself from the real danger going on in the background.

You watch, enraptured, as his mouth gets ever closer, his hand on your cheek tilting your head to the side to make room for his bite. A frozen exhale bathes the skin of your neck as he gets into position. And then—! The dreamscape roils and bubbles up next to you, shifting and opening up.

The mist pulls back, and a new form materializes next to you, a form you know to be the High King's Consort, his soulmate. They take one look around the place and sniff in disdain before their focus turns entirely to Manerkol. They take in the tableau you and he make, and they sigh in exasperation.

"Must you really, mate of mine? What has this poor person done to earn the capital punishment?" they ask in irritated fondness, and Manerkol promptly moves away from you, letting you crumple to your knees, forgotten. It feels like he sucked the air away with his departure, and you gasp as you watch him walk up to his mate and sweep them in his arms.

But the Consort is not done voicing their displeasure.

And you're always making the dreamspace so dire! Even when it is for me! I'm your soulmate! I'd think you'd pick a more pleasant place for us to meet." The complain ends in a high whine when Manerkol weaves his hand into his mate's hair, grabbing onto the strands and pulling until his beloved's neck is arched beautifully for him.

He noses at the stretched column of flesh in front of him, placing a soft kiss to the Consort's pulse point as a low chuckle vibrates the world around them. This time, the Lord's amusement is not mocking or dangerous in any way. It's full of fondness, teasing anticipation—you are watching the High King and his soulmate flirt.

"This place was not created with you in mind, ulaidh. You chose to barge in by yourself. And if you may recall, the dreamscape was barren and unpleasant before I knew what you are to me. Yet you know all these things, don't you? You're simply trying to earn yourself my undivided attention, hmm?"

The Consort's eyes flash in a challenge, and they open their mouth to reply—only for the hand buried in their hair to swiftly move to their neck. Their mate grabs them and lifts, making them tiptoe to keep their balance, gasping as his thumb presses against their pulse point strong enough to bruise.

"It's not the setting you crave; it's the violence. Isn't that so, my precious one?" The tone is dripping with suggestion, the voice delivering the mind-melting threat low and husky, making the Consort obviously shudder from its headiness.

If they mean to say something in response, you're not sure—all you can hear is their broken-off gasps and moans, all you can see is the way Manerkol bobs their head up and down in imitation of a puppet, a cruel grin curving his full lips. He leans down, and these same lips press a feather-light kiss to the Consort's gasping mouth, the deliberate gentleness exacerbating the violence that is watching him choke his own mate.

And yet you get the impression that this is precisely what the Consort craves—then Manerkol's whisper is the last thing you hear before the dream breaks.

"Let's see if I can't make you beg for what you want, ulaidh." A choking sound echoes all around, and then you are hurtled away from the entwined duo. You wake up in your own bed, gasping, clawing at your throat, bathed in a cold sweat.

And as you sit there, shivering apart on your bed, you contemplate…

You may have just gotten more out of Manerkol than anyone else has in eons—and the only reason why you have lived to tell the tale is because of one perfectly timed, horny intervention by his Majesty's soulmate. If you have escaped death or just delayed it remains to be seen.

And may the Gods take pity on your soul…

[chernabogs]

ames you are COOKING (or should i say, planting???lol) SO HARD with the flower language prompts, 😭💖💞💖💞✨✨am really out here sobbing and crying over them like im watering these flowers with my Tears lol

so here i am requesting for these prompts: rosemary, begonia, pink camellia, dark crimson rose, purple hyacinth, blue salvia, zinnia

i picked these based on your initial tag about Maleficia and zinnia flower,,,, I SEE THE VISION so im requesting it now lol but also picked on prompts that reminded of Meleanor and Malleus,,, 😭i think therapy bills should be forwarded to Draconias instead, istg all they ever do is be in grief and loss /lh😭

if its too many, please feel free to choose whichever prompt you like and take your time in writing !! ☺️💞🌹✨✨

Ohhh I did my best here I promise LMAOOO. I tied in some easter eggs with other works i've done (namely Monody, Stasis, and Labours Gained). I hope you enjoy my absolute monstrous dump about Maleficia, whom I will die on a hill for tyvm

EMPTY CHAIRS

Inc: Maleficia, Meleanor, Levan, Lilia, Malleus (whole gang wow) WC: 4.2k :))) Warnings: Just some death, but I swear it ends on a happy note this time. Flowers: Begonia (How ghosts help the living live a little), Pink Camellia (Where I notice your absence the most), Dark Crimson Rose (The grave I visit everyday), Purple Hyacinth (The worst pain of my whole life and how it healed… multiple times) , Zinnia (The seats at the table and how they eventually became empty… multiple times) Summary: Moments where Maleficia was convinced her family was cursed, and a few times she truly wished this to not be the case.

A mother's love for her child is like nothing else in the world.  It knows no law, no pity.  It dares all things and crushes down remorselessly all that stands in its path.

Their family may be cursed. 

For many decades now Maleficia had toyed with the possibility of such a matter in her mind. It had first passed briefly with the death of her father—the second monarch to take over after the initial uprising—and the subsequent death of her mother a few weeks later. No one was surprised when she went. Her grief for the loss of her love had been so profound that it had flooded Briar Nation, drowning both cattle and crops in her dismay. Maleficia had postponed her own coronation as the cleanup occurred. It felt ill-boding to be crowned while bodies were floating down the mountain pass. 

The thought had returned once more when her husband vanished at sea, leaving her with a newborn hatchling on her own. Her love had been a strong headed man with adventure burning in his blood—it had been what drew her to him to begin with. That, and he was the only ex-sailor she knew who was bold enough to try and hold her for ransom. Wiping the deck with him had captured his heart—and the fact that he had been a dragon settled the Senate to a degree. But the sea is a fickle mistress, and although her love had skill and he had drive, even the most knowledgeable of sailors can never predict its next move. 

She had not flooded Briar Nation like her mother had, and she had held herself together before her people, although the empty space in her bed and at the dinner table deepened the wound nightly. It was in the quiet moments alone when it was just her and Meleanor that she felt his absence the strongest. 

In the beginning she loathed him for leaving her. Whenever she cradled their daughter as the hatchling shrieked and protested, blowing flame, and biting for flesh, she loathed him. Whenever she dealt with the Senate or another disaster befalling the Nation, she loathed him. 

But when Meleanor learned to fly, learned to run, and shifted into her two-legged form for the first time, the hatred began to fade. Because although he had vanished into the mists on a voyage destined to fail, he had left her with the greatest treasure she could ever have—and for that alone she could hold no ill will. 

Perhaps this sentimentality is why when Meleanor dragged a thin, sickly-looking bat into the halls of Black Scale, Maleficia heard her out.

“Please let him stay!” The princess had asked, green eyes wide as she grasped her mother’s skirts. “Please, mother!”

The other child had shrunk behind Meleanor, but shadows could not hide the burning defiance in the boy's eyes—a gaze of confrontation, and one that nothing truly innocent should hold. This is why she lacked the heart to say no. She quietly hoped that Lilia, as she would name him, would be the one to slay whatever reaper was following them—that the burning anger she had seen would ignite a fire that would cleanse the family of its suffocating misery. 

With the presence of Meleanor, Lilia, and eventually Levan, the silent table Maleficia had sat at for so long soon became a place of raucous conversation again. Although she found herself scolding the three children more than once (especially Levan for his non-subtle attempts at discarding food), the lingering warmth she would feel as she gazed at the trio made her confident that this family curse was on the bend. 

Naturally, it didn’t last. 

The first time she heard of the Silver Owls, Meleanor was 200 years old and more focused on warding off suitors than an unmarked ship. Maleficia had allowed her daughter to indulge by instead consulting with an advisor alone in the dark of her office. The concern lingering in the advisor's words would grow to haunt her.

“Perhaps it is temporary?” She posited, trying her best to remain optimistic on the matter. Plenty of people came and went from Cape Sunrise. A single unmarked ship with a few scraggly sailor’s was not something she felt the need to stress over. The advisor seemed doubtful on the matter.

“But they have tools. Items designed to dig up our soil,” they had insisted, but Maleficia dismissed the concerns with a wave and a blase response. 

“Let them try. They will not be able to break the first layer of our land.” 

___________________________________

The first one to leave the table had been Levan. There were many soldiers and nobles who vanished before he did but, selfishly, he was the first one that Maleficia really felt the absence of. Levan had grown up from a non-confrontational child to her son-in-law, a general of the princess and a father to the future heir. His compassion had not faded despite the years of war that now tore the Nation apart. Maleficia knew this by the way she came across him one night, cradling his egg so gently while murmuring against its shell. 

When he had noticed her, he had not corrected himself; if anything, he held the egg even closer. They had not exchanged too many words that night, but she sat next to him on the bench in the gardens, the silence speaking volume of her support to his decisions. 

“You will return.” It was not a question—it was a demand. Her voice held the authority of a queen who had seen many, many losses in her long life. Levan had remained silent for a moment longer as his lips brushed against the shell of her grandson's egg. 

“Always,” was the promise he made, and the last words Maleficia heard from him. When they didn’t receive notice for several days after he left, the conclusion was drawn that he was either dead, or the closest one could be to it. Meleanor held herself well in lieu of this information, as had Maleficia. 

But the empty seat felt an ill omen. 

___________________________________

The next one to leave the table had been Meleanor. When she was younger, she used to rest her head on Maleficia’s lap as her mother had fixed her hair. She would ramble on about her day and what she got up to with the two boys in the nonsensical fashion that many children do. Maleficia had listened with amusement, although her mind had always been half-focused on what she needed to do for her meetings the next day.

The regret of not giving Meleanor her full, undivided attention sunk in deep when she felt her daughter’s magic cut off. The bond in their family was intrinsically woven to allow them to get a sense of whether the other members were still alive. If asked, Maleficia might say it’s something of a dragon trait. Most of the time it served to be a blessing to allow her to know her family is alive and well. 

When it cut off mid-emergency meeting, the abruptness had been so profound that she nearly collapsed then and there. Her breath had hitched, her words stuttering to a stop as she stared wide-eyed at the Senate members surrounding her. At first, she hoped it was simply a fluke—a disruption in the magic—until she didn’t feel it return and the horrible, tar-like panic of a mother when her child goes missing welled up in her heart. She was tearing out of the room before any of the Senate members even had a chance to speak, screaming for her guards and her soldiers to tell her what was going on at Wild Rose. 

Her daughter, who spent her childhood running through the forests and laughing in the face of suitors. Her daughter, whose hair she would braid and then re-braid again when the girl somehow got burs in it. Her daughter, who was set to become a mother herself and experience all the precious moments Maleficia had. 

Her daughter, whose body wasn’t even recovered at the end of it all. 

___________________________________

The final one to leave the table was Lilia. In wake of the princesses passing, Malleus’ egg was put in the cradle tower, and Maleficia was designated to spirit him into hatching. She felt the faint connection of their magic from within the thick shell that guarded his body. His warmth, the subtle movements he made; they were all indicators that he was still alive and well despite his tumultuous arrival.

But Maleficia didn’t know if he would oblige. Hatchlings often needed the love of both parents to be shepherded forward—and Maleficia, now over eight hundred years old, already felt the strain of her magic from the conflicts going on in her Nation. There was no doubt that she held love for her grandson—but a lingering fear that her love wouldn’t be enough burned in her mind. This is what made her turn to Lilia, to send him on his quest around the world to try and find an additional means to bring the young prince forward.

For the first few decades, it worked well. Maleficia held the egg on a nightly basis and poured as much of her love and magic into it as she could. The egg consumed it all in a greedy fashion, demanding more every time she returned to the tower. One would think that Malleus was starving within by the way he pulled, and tore, and ripped at her powers to fuel his own development. 

Then he ceased feeding. She recalls the first night it happened; everything had been going well, until the connection was suddenly severed, and the green glow within the egg dulled back into a faint tint of color. Maleficia had initially dismissed it as a one-off event. Until it happened again, and again, and again. 

There’s a curious sense of panic that fills someone when they do everything they can to no avail. The panic she felt came in the form of a privatized breakdown in the tower. For many decades now Maleficia had toyed with the possibility of a curse in her mind. Now, she was beginning to consider that it was not her family who was cursed, but rather just herself. 

First it came for her father, and her mother shortly after. Then, when it grew hungry again, it ate through her husband and that of her daughters. Then it came for Meleanor herself, and now whatever reaper followed them was looming over her shoulder as she held Malleus’ egg and begged him to take something. 

Pleas fell from the lips of a monarch as she rocked the egg, stroked its shell so softly, whispering to just eat a little more, just take a little more. But the egg had remained as cold and aloof as it had for several nights now. Her desperation mounted in an order to Baul to summon Lilia back—to slay whatever reaper was following them before it pried the last of her bloodline from her hands. 

Her hopes of his role as the vanquisher of death came in an explosive hatching that she was informed of after it occurred. When she requested for Lilia to be brought to Black Scale to be reinstated in his role in his efforts, the Senate had then informed her that Lilia Vanrouge would never step foot in the capital again.

And so, in a span of mere moments, the final seat was emptied—and Maleficia found herself alone once more. 

___________________________________

Grandchildren are the best reminders  of the beauty and innocence of childhood.

When Malleus was first brought to her after he hatched, she didn’t want to touch him. The purple hue of his stomach and the way his green gaze darted around, drinking in the new world he emerged to, reminded her so much of Meleanor that she wanted to laugh at the cruel irony. The hurt that smouldered in her heart ignited back into a flame that found her turning a cold shoulder to the hatchling. 

“Go clean him. He has amniotic fluid all over.” She remembers ordering, voice deceptively calm for the turmoil happening within. The wet nurse that was hired obliged as the hatchling shrieked and protested the frequently changing environment around him. His cries made Maleficia clench her jaw tighter as she stared resolutely at the battle plans drawn before her, her hands gripping the table enough to turn her knuckles white. 

A few times she went to him in the beginning. The encounters lasted only as long as Maleficia could tolerate seeing how similar he looked to Meleanor before she would depart and leave him in the care of his wet nurse once more. Guilt fought with anger in her heart about the circumstances that she found herself in and her inability to overcome them. She could feel the ghost of her daughter chastising her in the corner for being so cowardly in her approach. 

The breakthrough arrived when Malleus became ill. Grieves—a fever-like condition that affected fae children in particular—resulted in Maleficia sitting with her grandson one night as the exhausted wet nurse was excused for a long overdue break. She held him on her lap in the dark as his small form fought his fever, whispering how the stars that looked down from above were the eyes of the people who loved him, keeping him safe in this world. Her voice had cracked as she spoke, and it was only when a small whine left him did she realize she was hugging him tight to her body. 

“I am so sorry,” she had choked out, unsure if the apology was for the hold she had or the neglect she had given so far. “Please forgive me.”

Malleus had twisted in her arms, small wings fluttering before he settled himself down and began to doze. He had already forgotten what upset him to begin with. She wished it would always be that way—but she knew that was nothing but a vague hope. 

She loathed Meleanor for leaving. Whenever she cradled Malleus as the hatchling threw his tantrums, blowing flame, and biting for flesh as all children seem to do, she loathed her. Whenever she dealt with another part of the war or signed another treaty alone, she loathed her. 

But when Malleus scrambled onto her lap mid-Senate meeting, chased after courtiers, and flew for the first time (admittedly, into a flock of pigeons), Maleficia loved her. Because although like her father she had vanished in an ill-fated decision, she had left a small reminder that she was never truly gone. Maleficia could comfort Malleus, could see the ghost of his mother in his clever little eyes, and for that alone she could hold no ill will. 

Meleanor’s death had proved to be far worse than anything else—but her gift of the small dragon in her lap felt like the first steps towards recovery again. So, she had kissed between his horns that night and promised to herself that she would do all that she could to give him a future free of the misery that plagued their family thus far. 

___________________________________

In the aftermath, she spent time with him whenever she could. Via dinners, via having him sit in on meetings, via walks in the gardens—whenever she could, she would be there. However, despite her newfound presence changing some things for the better, she remained unable to quell the curiosity that burned in her grandson's mind. 

She found him in the mausoleum once. He was standing on the toes of his mother with his small hand touching her stone-carved face. Maleficia had not been to the mausoleum since the boy hatched so many years ago. The raw memories still stirred in her heart and seeing him look up at his mother with such a gaze of innocent adoration did nothing but unsettle her more. 

When he noticed her, his face had lit up into a smile as he hopped back down and pointed up to one of the other statues. “This is grandfather?” 

Maleficia’s gaze slid to where he was pointing. A strong jaw, a dangerous glint in stone-etched eyes, and a faint smirk painted the picture of the man she had once loved and held so dearly many years ago. Maleficia nodded. Malleus, taking this as encouragement, then ran back to the other statue he had been touching with his small hands. 

“And this is mother?” 

Again, Maleficia nodded. The painful similarities between Malleus and his mother were more apparent when they were side to side. If Maleficia were to squint, she could mistake Malleus as a younger Meleanor: the same horns, same hair length, even the same streak of mischief that got both into so much trouble. 

Malleus had hummed thoughtfully before stepping down again. “Do you miss them?” 

A deceptively innocent question. Of course she missed them. All she had left of her family was one grandson and three empty coffins: a husband at sea, a daughter in the hands of humans, and a son-in-law somewhere in the moors. “I do,” she offered back. “I miss them greatly.” 

Malleus had asked her why, then. Children like him were filled with innocence and wonder about the world. He had no knowledge of the bodies that were lost, or the tragedies that had predicated his birth. Her reply did nothing but fuel an unease in the boy, for moments after she offered it, he ran back to her and threw his small arms around her waist.

When he hugged her, he clung with a ferocity that was baffling for his size. Her hands rested on his head and stroked his hair soothingly as she had done with Meleanor many times before she guided him away from the tombs and the memory of family he never met.

She should visit them more often now. 

___________________________________

She rediscovers that there’s a privilege in watching someone grow. Lilia’s gradual return into their lives helps ease the stress of raising a child again in her older age, which is partially why she turns a blind eye every time Malleus slips out of the palace to visit the man. She’s honoured to observe in a more passive manner the way her grandson changes and grows as a person. She watches him go from spiteful towards humans to more amiable with the arrival of Lilia’s adopted son. As he grows before her eyes, she begins to see less of Meleanor and Levan in his features and more of just Malleus—the quiet, albeit arrogant, boy that was hers. 

Time goes by faster as she ages alongside him. One moment he’s clinging to her skirts, and the next he’s off to NRC, and then finally, 178 years have passed like the blink of an eye. She used to bemoan how slow time was—and now she wishes it to ease off a bit.

She’s sitting in the gazebo in the gardens for reprieve, a novel in hand as the screaming of insects choruses a song for her amusement. The aroma of flowers surrounds her and for a moment she feels utter peace in the world. The summer is ending and there are no celebrations or events to concern herself with. For the first time in what feels like eons, Maleficia Draconia can breathe. 

The sound of someone approaching puts a pause in this. 

She lowers her book to peer over at whoever is coming, hoping silently it isn’t an advisor or a courtier seeking out an audience on the sly. Fortunately, the sight of two horns and a scowling face turning the corner nullifies this as she turns back to her book. 

“Finally decided to see the sun?” She muses as she hears him stepping onto the gazebo platform. She waits for his response, but only comes to feel surprised when Malleus kneels by where she sits and does something that he hasn’t done in a long time now—he places his head in her lap. At his age, his body is too tall now to really kneel efficiently at her side, but by the gods does the boy try as he hits his head right down. Her hand comes up on instinct to brush strands of his dark hair behind his ear as he looks over the gardens, his shoulders tense with stress. 

They’re silent for a moment, listening to the sounds of screaming insects from beyond before Malleus speaks.

“The gardens look atrocious.”

Maleficia raises an eyebrow as she lowers her book to look at where he’s staring. Her hand continues to stroke his head soothingly as she huffs a soft laugh. “Our groundskeepers are going for a more ���untamed’ look this season.”

“I have counted twenty-six thistles in the minute I have been here.” Malleus shoots back as his hand comes to rest by his face. “It’s late in the season. They might be growing lazy.”

 “Nonsense. You know how hard working they are. You spent ample amounts of time with them when you were younger.” She fails to hide the smile teasing on her lips with this comment. Malleus’ temper tantrums had landed him in more than enough problems in his youth. Problems which were often rectified by a gentle lesson of how hard it is to fix up his messes—garden destruction included. 

Malleus deigns her with a unprincely snort in response. They fall back into a warm silence as she keeps her hand on his head and returns her attention to her book. She knows that something is on his mind, but she retains her silence both to give him an opportunity to speak, and to enjoy the moment that they’re having. In the privacy of the garden, they can get away with this rare display of familial affection. 

She feels him sigh as his eyes flutter close before he speaks up. “Do you ever feel… unease?” 

“Unease?” She hums quietly as she turns a page. “On many occasions I have, yes. Unease tends to go hand in hand with some of the things I have dealt with.” 

She knows he doesn’t mean in the sense of his royal duties. Malleus is an unusually quiet and introverted boy—but she had noticed him being more so the past week as summer began to inch towards its end. He opens his eyes and sighs again before withdrawing to sit back on his knees. 

Maleficia wisely closes her book and sets it down before affixing him with as stern of a look as she can muster without chuckling. “Sighing and moping in the corners does little to aid me in providing advice.” 

Malleus’ gaze goes upwards to stare at the ceiling of the gazebo before his expression drops to a pout. “I am feeling reluctant to return to NRC.”

“Oh? And why is that?” 

Maleficia quietly reaches her hand out to brush his bangs back from his forehead, revealing the scale pattern beneath. Malleus’ eyes flutter shut at the gesture as his pout remains present.

“Three years have passed now, and I have yet to feel included in the school environment. Spending my days with those I already know from here hardly feels like an efficient use of time.” His jaw clenches. “Every effort I make to form any sort of connection to others feels like it’s a pointless endeavour at this rate.”

“Malleus, you must be patient with these things. It takes time for people to warm up to the likes of us. You must simply continue being yourself, and the right people will make the effort to get to know you. I understand it may seem upsetting right now, but you must simply keep trying your best.” A faint smile touches her lips despite the worry gnawing at her heart. She wishes she could do more, but she also understands that these are things he must figure out himself. “You’re going to this school to gain new experiences and see the world beyond our little Valley without the Senate looming over you. Things will work out in the end.” 

Malleus’ body seems to relax at her words as he opens his eyes again. His expression eases to his usual neutral look as he nods slightly. “... yes, I suppose you are correct.”

“I often am.” She pinches his cheek lightly, causing the scowl to immediately return to his face as he jerks to avoid her grasp, making her laugh in turn. “Besides, are you not excited to see Lilia, Silver, and Sebek more often again? Well. More often than you do already.”

A pointed look has him averting her gaze as she picks her book up again. His demeanour reminds her of Meleanor, but the similarities no longer ache when she considers them. This was Malleus—her grandson, not his mother, nor his father—and she was eager to see the person he was still destined to become. “Now, you should be packing, should you not? We don’t need the crisis we had last year where we were all hunting down books for you last minute.” 

Malleus groans softly before rising to his feet and brushing his pants off. He presses a brief kiss to her forehead, coaxing another smile from her lips before he pulls away. 

“Yes, grandmother,” he grumbles with all the moodiness of an embarrassed teenage boy, and Maleficia can’t help but feel happiness at seeing it. Cursed or not, she will continue to enjoy these moments of joy as long as she may have them.

[gadriezmannsgirl]

Hello 🎶 it's meeeeee 🎼

Buenas, beautiful lady. I want to request something to youuuu (obvio cause I'm in your inbox 😂)

Can you do something inspired on the new smw photoshoot Pedri did 😩🔥🩷 pretty please! Do what you want, go crazy on me 😀❤️

Señorita, you're always bienvenida in my inbox💜✨ Pedri will make me go crazy😭😭 he's so gorgeous I can't even explain how beautiful that man is, dear lord😭!

Warnings: mentions of sexy times, nothing graphic it's safe for everyone to read, Pedri being a lil confident ass, reader being head over heels for Pedri. This probably doesn't make any sense💀😭 and sorry in advance if it doesn't, it's been a while since I've written something😭

Tease -P.G8

Summary: He said he wasn't feeling confident about the shoot, the results show the opposite.

"C'mon, amor. You'll look great even if you're wearing a trash suit!"

"You say that because you're my girlfriend"

"No, I say that because I'm a woman with two eyes who know how to appreciate beauty and you, mi amor, have lots of it" Pedri rolled his eyes as you shook your head and fixed the collar of the beige suit.

"I suddenly don't want to do this" He sighs "I enjoy being more in a sweatshirt and joggers"

"I know you do and you will be in sweatshirts and joggers once again when this shoot it's done, it'll be quick"

"Not quick enough"

"What will you do when you're getting your wedding suit done?"

"Wait for you to get your wedding dress done so we can marry?" You smile at him.

"Well played" He laughed softly "But let me tell you that I actually enjoy seeing you in suits, it's not often I get to see you like that, you look incredibly handsome and more mature, like a CEO... and it makes me wanna jump all over you" You state wrapping your arms around his neck, a smirk came up to your boyfriend's face and he wrapped his arms around you.

"I don't need to be in suits for you to do that" You blush and laugh.

"True. You breathe and I'm all crazy for you, González" He laughs pecking your lips a few times.

"C'mon, let's go"

"Thought you didn't wanted to do the photoshoot right away?"

"I want to get home, my girlfriend said she wants to jump all over me, I'm never passing up those chances" He winked at you while he left the room leaving you giggly and running behind him to catch him.

"Pedri, I'll need you to act confident, move around, own the shoot" The photographer said getting ready behind his camera

"I think I can do that"

"¿Qué crees? Venga mi amor, tú puedes. Vamos, con confianza" (You think? C'mon, mi amor, you can. C'mon, confidence)

And with confidence he did it. It was only a few days later when you found yourself screaming all over your house after seeing his latest IG post.

"¿Qué pasa, preciosa? ¿Todo bien? ¿Por qué el grito?" (What's wrong, precious? Is everything okay? Why the scream?)

"¿Eres tonto?" (Are you stupid?)

"¿Disculpa?" (Excuse me?)

"¿Cómo te atreves a subir fotos de ese estilo sin avisarme?" (How dare you upload photos like that without telling me?) You looked at him in disbelief "Don't you think my ovaries will explode after watching this?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Can we have your tux for our wedding done in this color? You look absolutely gorgeous-ah! oh dear god! your hair, your face, your eyes, your eyebrows... your hands! I never knew your wrist would look so good with a simple watch!"

"Y/N, can you calm down and explain to me what is going on?"

"How do you want me to calm down with you dropping these pictures?" You show your phone screen for the first time to him "I really want to have your babies, right now, Pedro González López"

Reality hit him and he started laughing. You. His girlfriend were fangirling over him.

"We can practice for them"

"How do you look so beautiful every day, every time, every second? Like... You don't get tired of it? Amor, I don't really understand what were you nervous about! I'm so lucky to have you as my boyfriend, I get to have you, all of you! ¡Dude, buah!" You let go of your phone letting it fall on the carpet still looking at Pedri "You're so pretty, I love you so much"

Pedri was blushing and his giggles were the only thing you were hearing "I love you too" He said wrapping his arms around you

"How can you be so hot and so cute at the same time?" You asked with a smile on "It's not possible"

"Welcome to the club, I have to deal every day with you being cute and sexy at the same time" You kissed his lips.

He was perfect.

"You knew what you were doing, right?" You asked after a bit of silence.

"I mean... I didn't know it would have this effect on you but I definitely need to keep doing photoshoots in suits"

"You little bastard-"

°°° °°° °°° °°°

Taglist: @gaviymarcsbride @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover @azzpenswrld @http-isabela

[disasterbuck]

Hi :D

kudos to you for actually choosing an emoji for each wip xD

13. 😭😭 34. 💦💦 21. 💋💋

thank you haha, I'm actually really proud of the emojis I chose! 🥰

also I'm sorry but I have got absolutely no motivation for the last two atm so I wrote extra on the first one instead, hope that's okay!

😭😭 - fwb misunderstanding

"Buck." Eddie propped himself up on an elbow so he could look at Buck more squarely. "What on earth about this–" he gestured at himself, "–made you think I'd be ready for more?"

Buck felt his confidence begin to crack and forced himself to put some more distance between the two of them. Eddie was looking at him with confusion in his eyes, like he couldn't understand why Buck would ever think he'd want to be in a relationship with him.

He supposed it was his fault. It was always his fault for assuming that people who slept with him wanted anything more than his body.

He'd just really thought that Eddie was different.

"Sorry," he muttered, looking away.

"It's okay," Eddie said with a sigh and another quiet chuckle as he lay back down beside him. "Just… please. No more."

Buck squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to let the words cut him, but he was already bleeding. If he had known Eddie only wanted sex, no strings attached, he never would have agreed in the first place. He didn't do that anymore – didn't Eddie know that?

He felt used, reduced to nothing more than a body, and the fact that it was Eddie who had done this to him made it all a thousand times worse. Eddie was his best friend, someone he trusted implicitly and wanted desperately to make a life with.

But Eddie didn't want him.

Sitting up, Buck swung his legs over the side of the bed and leaned down to collect his discarded clothes from the floor. Then he stood, pulling them on and telling himself not to cry until he was in his car. He knew from experience that the worst thing he could do right now was cry.

"Buck?" Eddie asked from the bed. Buck ignored him, doing up his belt. "Where are you going?"

"Home," Buck said curtly, tugging his shirt straight and then scooping up his jacket.

"What… right now?"

Eyes stinging, Buck walked to the door and grabbed the handle.

"Buck!" Eddie snapped, and he faltered.

Closing his eyes, his shoulders sagged in defeat. He didn't want to have this conversation. Please, don't make me have this conversation.

"Will you please tell me what's going on?" Eddie asked gently.

Unable to resist, Buck slowly turned around. His teeth were clenched as he fought against the tears which wanted to spill, and he could tell his face was red from all the emotions swirling through him. He was angry at himself for getting so worked up when Eddie was still just lying there with nothing but a curious frown on his face.

Rubbing harshly at his jaw, he said, "I can't do this."

"What?" Eddie asked, his frown deepening. "Why not?"

The complete lack of understanding on Eddie's face made him want to scream. Hands clenching into fists, he managed to say, "Because you don't want more."

Remarkably, Eddie still didn't appear to understand.

"So you're just gonna leave?" Eddie asked.

"Why exactly would I stay?"

-

Make Me Write ✨

check out more snippets I've written for the 'make me write' game

[jakeyt]

Covet: Chapter 7 (Part 2 of 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+); smutty smutty smut; oral sex m!receiving; unprotected p in v sex; mentions of toxic past relationships (cheating, lying, etc.) (lmk if i missed anything that is triggering to you!)

Chapter Word Count: 15k+

Covet Masterlist

a/n: alas, the second part of chapter 7!

as per usual, life has been busy and stressful. but, recently, i've had a couple of terribly sad things take place on top of it all. so, all of that piled up has stalled me. threw me way off balance for a bit.

my anxiety has also been ✨trippin'✨ recently, so i'm just drowning atp.

as always, ty to my sis @joshym for being a fucking amazing sister, talking through ideas w me, and proofreading for me <3 ilysfm

and ty to my wonderful friend @alwaysonthemend for being amazing and supportive + ever-encouraging. u r wonderful & ilysfm &lt;3

i hope u guys (gn) enjoy the rest of chapter 7!

-🌼🌼🌼-

Waking up the next morning was not as wonderful as it’d been the morning prior. 

You loved your sister with nearly everything in you, but being tied up in her legs was absolutely nothing compared to being curled up in Jake’s. 

Your body ached to feel his body against yours in the morning again. . .formed to yours, your legs tangled up in each other, your cheek resting on his warm, firm chest. 

Shit. You needed to feel him.

You were just about to get up to see if he was still in his room when Elsie made a telltale noise that she was awake. And when she cracked an eye open to look at you, she looked completely groggy and out of it. 

But definitely awake. Before you knew it, she was up and aware and checking her phone through blurry eyes. 

She yawned once more as she scrolled, but you knew this was only a sign that she was truly awake. A final yawn before starting her day. It was a weird thing you’d noticed with her years ago.

So, you knew that she would waste no time in wanting to start her day as soon as—

“Get dressed and let’s go get coffee,” she said, already walking to your bedroom to get her clothes on to start the day.

And within twenty minutes, you were both flitting about the apartment (bickering already), with the Jetta keys in Elsie’s hand, ready to go. 

As you loaded up in your car to start the day, you couldn’t help but notice the impending throbbing Jake had left between your legs from the night before. 

A sick reminder of the person you hadn’t had the chance to see again this morning. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

You spent the day with Elsie, doing a variety of activities that you two used to do all the time. 

You got the coffee she’d wanted as soon as she’d awoken, then got your nails done, went shopping for unnecessary things, got sushi. . .

It was a fun day. 

But it dragged. On and on. 

Seeing Jake at the gig tonight was undoubtedly the thing you were looking forward to most all day long.

The dull pain between your legs from where Jake had been the night before had you getting even more excited. 

But it also served as a reminder to make your rules. 

He’d followed the other rules you’d made well enough (enough being the key term) before. It seemed a legitimate idea to pitch some again for whatever the fuck you two had now gotten yourselves into twice (and more than that if you counted the other things the two of you had done).

You just hoped he’d respond well to these. They were to benefit both of you. Keep the sex just sex.

Protection.

You were sure they’d be easy for you to follow, so you were crossing your fingers they would be for him, too. You weren’t going to ask a lot of him.

By the time Elsie was done buying whatever she definitely didn’t need from H&M, you already had a solid ten rules made up.

Ten seemed good. Even number. Good start.

And you’d made one rule for yourself personally: No funny business until the rules had been discussed. 

You needed the rules in place to feel like you had some semblance of control over it all.

He’d just have to be okay with that.

-🌼🌼🌼-

The show hadn’t even ended, their little encore about to start, when you got a text from Jake, making your tummy flip at his name popping up on your screen. 

Jake, 10:30 p.m.: Josh says to meet us at that bowling alley we played a couple weeks back

Jake, 10:30 p.m.: oh fuck I forgot

Jake, 10:30 p.m.: that was when you weren’t coming to our shows for god knows what reason. It’s called brooklyn bowl

Jake, 10:31 p.m.: we will be there as soon as this set is done. Head that way and we will meet you

The string of texts kind of shocked you, if you were being completely honest. The fact that Jake had apparently been willing to text you about the plans made your stomach dip. 

And even though his little remark about you not going to their shows made your skin heat with irritation, you still felt butterflies as you quickly texted back. 

You, 10:33 p.m.: Okay. We will see you guys there. 

You nudged Elsie, showing her the texts. 

Her lips had a smart little smirk as soon as she saw who it was texting you, her eyes flashing to you to see your expression. 

You only rolled your eyes and said, “It’s not that he’s texting me, stupid. We need to leave.”

So she finished reading the texts, and nodded her head when she’d finished. 

“That’ll be fun,” she grinned bigger, winking. She nodded once again, signaling for you to move out so she could follow you out from the booth you’d been sitting in to watch the guys perform. “Let’s go.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

You waited a good while for a lane to open up, the alley being oddly busy on a Monday night. 

As you’d waited in line, Elsie had made a comment about Jake acting a little funny about you not being at their shows for a bit. 

You’d pushed her off, claiming he was just being an asshole. 

And your heart hadn’t beaten any faster when he’d sent a simple response as you waited in the line to get a lane. 

Jake, 11:05 p.m.: :) 

Jake, 11:07 p.m.: we will be there soon

You didn’t respond, not wanting to seem eager for a response or some shit. He’d know that you got his message by your ‘read’ receipt.

Eventually, you and your sister had a lane assigned to your party, and you located it. The two of you took the time to set up your names in the machine before the guys would arrive and presumably took over. You had a funny feeling they’d be pre-excited to start the game and compete. 

And you knew well enough to stay out of their way when they got excited over bowling. 

You assumed Jake would be the same. But you didn’t know as this would be your first time going out with him to bowl.

Well, going out with the guys and Jake. Not just him. 

It wasn’t like you guys were dating or some weird shit. 

Fuck no.

You weren’t. At all.

And just as that thought’d come to your mind, you figured tonight would be a really good time to talk over the rules you’d spent the day crafting.

Before he started assuming shit.

He probably didn’t. You knew better than to get too big of a head over Jake considering the thing you guys had done any more than just fucking.

You ignored the tiny sinking in your tummy over that thought. It didn’t matter. It was just fucking. 

So. Yeah. Rules would be good to have. Good reminders. You’d find a quiet time tonight to tell him about them.

They would let you have the control you needed, and keep you both in line with the situationship staying strictly sex.

-🌼🌼🌼-

You were correct in assuming the boys would come in and take over the machine; fingers flew over the touchscreen panel and ridiculous pictures were taken to accompany their player names.

Elsie only sat back and watched Josh in nothing short of amazement, laughing at every single thing he’d say or do. And he’d look back at her and send secret smiles, shooting winks and long glances when he wasn’t looking at the machine.

They were fucking adorable. 

But they could have the relationship. 

You weren’t interested in something like that. 

Though, you couldn’t help the way you watched Jake’s ass as he bent over the chair to put his name in, along with his own picture. His eyes crossed and tongue sticking out. 

You really couldn’t help the smirk and tiny giggle that bubbled out of you when he’d set it up. 

Also, his ass was looking fucking round and delicious in his jeans. 

Fuck. 

When he’d taken the initiative to get the guys’ shoes for them at the counter, you took the opportunity to do the same for your sister and you. 

This could be your chance to talk to him about rules.

Following behind him a few healthy steps, you saw him bent at the waist, arms crossed on the shoe counter as he talked to the girl working it. What was he doing? He was only up there to get fucking shoes.

Despite being annoyed, you did openly take the opportunity to admire his ass while you could. It was too tempting not to. Firm as hell, and poking out yet again from this position he was leaning into. 

You didn’t waste time, though, as you met him at the counter. There was shit to do and he was already taking too long.

You sidled up next to him, without another thought, as the girl across the counter continued to flirt openly with him.  

You rolled your eyes at her, glancing at him as he did the same back. He had a shit eating grin on his face the whole time, as if he knew she was lapping up every bit of it all. 

Stupid. You guys needed to get your shoes and get back to start the game. None of you had time for the little game he and this girl were playing. 

And she needed to focus on her job. 

“I need some shoes, too, if you don’t mind,” you butted in, pressing your arm into Jake’s. She looked annoyed, but you didn’t care. You were too. Looking down at your roommate, you narrowed your eyes at him. He was already looking at you, a raised brow and a smirk on his lips. Your panties got the slightest bit wet. Dumb. “Did you at least give her your fucking sizes?”

He rolled his eyes, but quickly changed his face to a knowing sort of thing that made you want to punch him and kiss him all at once. He uncrossed his arms from the counter, standing up to look down at you. 

“Yes,” he said, voice dripping with irritation, and a mix of something else you couldn’t put your finger to. “Would you like to give her yours, ma’am?” 

“Shut the fuck up, Jake,” you gritted in response. You looked back at her, as she continued to size Jake up. “Excuse me, I still need shoes. A woman’s size 6 and a size 8.”

And just as she begrudgingly left to get them all, you made eye contact with him again. He was already looking at you.

The apples of his cheeks were round with a big smile, pearly white teeth gleaming in the neon lighting of the place as he chuckled lowly. 

“What, Cheshire fucking Cat?” 

“You’re silly,” he said cutely. “And you’ve got a filthy fuckin’ mouth on you tonight, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

Your heart leapt at him calling you that. You really liked how it sounded when he called you pet names— like sweetheart and baby. . . It sounded so, so nice falling from his pretty lips. 

Blinking back at him, you refocused. “I’m silly? What the fuck does that mean?”

“You just are. It doesn’t have to mean anything. It’s cute. You’re cute,” he leaned his butt against the front of the counter, and he reached out to toy with the halter top you’d worn tonight. “And you look fucking sexy tonight. Why didn’t you stand closer to the stage for me to see you while I played?”

You flushed, and felt the slightest bit sad when he let his hand fall from your shirt to tuck back into his front pocket. 

“Wanted to show Elsie another vantage point of the show,” you replied, not wanting to tell him that you weren’t sure you could’ve handled being that close to him, watching him ruthlessly fuck his guitar. It would’ve made you fall victim to him before you were able to discuss your rules with him. “But that doesn’t matter. We need to talk about something.”

He let out a breath and then responded, “Well I know what this is going to be about,” he started, his eyes locking with yours. You lifted a brow, encouraging him to continue. “You don’t think us having sex is the best idea, hm? Can’t let yourself have too much of a good thing.”

Scoffing, you crossed your arms. 

You uncrossed them. 

Then, with a huff, you crossed them again. 

You were starting to realize when you did this, it made you feel guarded, emotions not on full display. Jake brought out so many different emotions in you— made you feel exposed. Crossing your arms to hide what pieces of yourself you could cover was all you could do. You just weren’t sure if it was healthy to constantly be on guard like you so often were. 

But it was just what you did. Especially with him.

“You think it’s that good?” You sassed, trying to disguise how wonderful you knew it to be, your pussy still in the slightest bit of pain from just how good he’d given it to you not even twenty-four hours ago. 

His eyes bore into yours, challenging you. “Oh, you’re saying it wasn’t?” He turned towards you. “Is that why I had to cover your mouth to keep you from getting all loud? You didn’t seem to think it was so bad when—.”

“Here are your shoes!” The girl was back, sliding all six pairs Jake’s way. You scooted yours and Elsie’s over to you, eying the girl and judging how she was holding eyes with Jake.

“These were mine,” you reminded as you held onto the backs of the shoes, clicking them against the counter.

As you went to hold them in your arms, you waited for her to look up at you. And when she threw you a disgusted glance, you didn’t let her look away, pinning her there. And as if on cue, customers were showing up behind you and Jake. 

“Better get to work,” you remarked at her, throwing a thumb back to point at the next people in line. You then tapped the other boys’ shoes to remind Jake to get them. He grabbed them just in time for you to take him by his sleeve. He chuckled under his breath as he let you drag the two of you over a few feet. 

Why was he laughing? 

You released him as soon as you were far enough away from the girl that she’d leave you alone. 

“You like her?” You questioned hotly (for literally no reason at all, really just genuine curiosity). “She definitely likes you.” 

“I don’t know,” he smirked, raising an eyebrow at you. “Why does it matter?”

“It doesn’t.”

“You’re the one who asked.”

“I just think it’s a good idea for you to be careful where you’re sticking your dick,” you chided, assuming to yourself that was the reason you asked in the first place. There was no other reason to care. “I’ll make you fucking wrap that shit.”

“I always do,” he challenged, stepping towards you a bit. It made your heart thump in your chest. 

“No you don’t,” you challenged back, crinkling a brow with a shake of your head. “You’ve never—.”

“Not with you I don't. Other girls, always. It’s fucking nasty not to,” he reasoned. His voice went impossibly lower, deeper with his next words. “I’ve never given a flying fuck about truly feeling the shape of a girl’s pussy until yours. I wasn’t going to miss out on that.”

Your cheeks heated, becoming red at his words. You could not be that special.

“That’s a fucking lie,” you hushed back, leveling with him. You pushed your chest out to fake a sort of sanity you were beginning to lack. “What about your ex-girlfrie—?”

“Nope,” he popped the ‘p’, his hand coming up to gently hold your bicep. His calloused thumb smoothed over your skin, drawing mindless shapes. You shivered. “Always used protection with her, too.”

You blinked. You were at a loss for words. 

His eyes scanned your body. The outfit of black skinny jeans that showcased your ass and your striped halter top that gave you incredible cleavage. He watched the curves of your breasts as your chest heaved at him watching you.

Your eyes floated to his lips, full and pink and kissable. Fuck. You just wanted to kiss him so bad.

It seemed he wanted it, too.

His were getting nearer and nearer to yours.

And you were leaning into it. . . So close to what you were learning was a constant craving.

“Y/n!” Elsie’s voice from across the way brought you out of your momentary daze. 

You shoved Jake back. 

Dammit, you hated being cut off from him like that. 

But you were currently way too close for outside onlookers. 

Your eyes were as wide as a deer in headlights as you scanned the alley for her. You’d lost your party entirely, your mind being wrapped up in only Jake for the past fifteen minutes. 

She whistled to gain your attention. And when you finally saw her, she was still on the bench from earlier, Josh right next to her. Their thighs were touching and his arm was over the back of her chair, facing away from you. 

Thank fuck. He hadn’t seen. 

But you had the sneakiest suspicion Elsie had seen too much. The quirk of her lips said so.

You could deal with her later.

“Shoooooes!” She sang, Josh harmonizing with her momentarily as if to mock. She giggled at him, shoving his shoulder. Now looking at him as she spoke, “I’m ready to kick Josh’s ass and I need my shoes to do it!” 

You looked back over at Jake for a split second, seeing the same disappointment in his eyes that you were feeling in the pit of your stomach. 

But you just couldn’t chance all of them seeing you two like that. 

You were still looking at him when you called back with a, “Coming!”

And as you walked back to your friends, Jake followed closely behind. You could feel him staring at your ass as you swayed it in front of him. With the smallest secret grin on your lips, you pressed the back of your hand to your cheeks to tame your blush.

The throbbing between your legs was begging for him. 

You had to get these stupid (albeit necessary) rules out of the way quick so you could sneak off and let him fuck you. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

“Ah! Another fucking strike!” Sammy punched the air in triumph, elbowing Danny in the side. “Try to beat my fuckin’ score, Daniel! Betcha can’t.” 

The four of you that sat back at the booth to watch applauded Sam’s score, but urged Danny on to “kick his ass, Danny!”

“Don’t let him have the upper hand,” you shouted at Daniel, who sent a wink back at you. 

And as Danny took his first shot, you heard Jake pipe up from across the table. “Who wants something to drink? Or maybe some fuckin’ chicken tenders or something. ‘M starving.”

Everyone yelled back “me!” except for you, who watched him lazily from your side of the booth. You’d been admiring him any chance you’d gotten from your spot all evening. He was sitting next to Josh and you were next to Elsie. Perfect view of him across the booth.

“Jacob, I volunteer you to get the booze and food,” Josh decided, clapping a hand against Jake’s shoulder. “I’ll play in your spot while you’re gone. We’re basically the same person, so it counts.”

Elsie joined in with her own two cents. “And I think you should help him carry it all back, sis, so I don’t let Josh get the upper hand with too much playing.” She added, “Let me play for you, too, and I’ll stay on the same page as him. Keep things fair.”

They laughed with each other like two little obnoxious love birds. And you couldn’t even care about it as you met eyes with your roommate, a glint in his eye at the prospect of you two escaping. 

He got out, and you watched his body unfold, and then as he stretched from sitting. You averted your gaze when you heard the telling sign of a strike, and the sounds of Danny rubbing it in Sammy’s face.

“Sure,” you replied, trying to act irritated that she was making you leave. When you were actually anything but. She looked at Jake, then back at you, throwing you a wiggle of her brows as you got out. Bitch knew what she was doing. 

Jake waited for you, and you quickly joined him in walking to the bar. 

“You know how amazing your ass looks in those jeans,” he said to you in a low tone as you walked that way. “Do you always wear the sexiest shit on purpose?” 

Heart racing, you looked up at him with a tiny grin. “Maybe.”

When you approached the bar, he put in a few orders of chicken and fries and several beers. 

“Yeah, man, but it might take a bit,” the guy responded, looking over at you, giving you a decent once over. He was blatantly checking you out. You pretended you didn’t notice as you let your eyes travel back to Jake, whose eyebrows were turned in at the guy looking at you. “Probably like five to ten minutes. That okay?”

“If you can keep your eyes off of her while you do it, sure,” he said back, taking a step over, closer to you. The guy looked shocked to be called out, stuttering a bit. He nodded his head a few times at Jake in response. 

“Yeah man, sorry,” he said, voice wavering. “Just don’t always see girls so pretty,” he sent a small, worried smile your way. “Sorry, miss.”

You tossed a hand his way, showing it was no biggie.

You could tell he was harmless. But you didn’t care about him. 

Jake’s palms splayed out on the counter, and him standing tall to say what he did was all you cared about in that moment. His shoulders, broad, and dark brown eyes daring the guy to look at you again.

Sexy as hell.

Why did you like him standing up for you so damn much? 

The guy scurried away, yelling out orders in the kitchen and then tending to the next customers. 

You turned to Jake just as he did the same. All you wanted was to reach out and feel him, but you didn’t. Couldn’t. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” you remarked, correcting him for no reason whatsoever. You liked it. Why were you saying anything? “I don’t need you doing that.”

Y/n, shut up, you heard the sweet voice in your head chide you. Just let him be there for you. 

“Didn’t say you did,” he snipped back, his eyebrows turning in at you now. “Just didn’t like him looking at you like that.”

Your heart beat rampantly as you held his line of sight. 

“Fine,” was all you could say in response. “But I still need to talk to you about what I had to earlier.”

“Did I not hit the nail on the head with what I said?” He questioned. “Too much of a—?”

“No, you didn’t,” you cut him off. He reared back a bit with a little ‘hm’. “Just let me speak. You can offer your opinion in a minute.”

You pulled your phone from your back pocket, opening up the notes with the rules, anxious to get your piece said.

“Rules,” you held up the device, flashing it at him before turning it back to yourself to read. 

But before you could start, he interrupted. “Rules? We already went over our rules for the apar—.”

“Not the apartment,” you corrected. 

He looked curious, his eyebrow raising in question. “Then what?”

“Sex.”

“Ha!” He let out the one cackle with a shake of his head. “Rules for sex?”

When he said it out loud, it sounded ridiculous. You couldn’t blame him for laughing when you heard the prospect from your own mouth. 

But you had valid reasons for it.

“Yes. As weird as it sounds, they will help us,” you said, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. “Are you ready?”

“Do I get a say?” 

“You will once you’ve heard them all.”

He groaned, and you saw him throw a hand over his eyes. “Fuck, y/n.” 

Was he that disappointed? 

Did it matter if he was? This was important to you.

You watched his pecs and chest rise and fall through his partially opened shirt, tempting you. The quicker you got these read, the quicker you could take him to a hidden area and—.

“Well?” His voice made your eyes snap to his face. He’d smoothed his hand down his face, holding his chin as he looked as ready as he could to tolerate whatever the hell was coming from you. “I’m waiting.”

You sighed. “If you’re going to be a giant baby about them, then—.”

“I won’t,” he sighed as well, looking more and more open to hearing you out by the second. 

Okay, maybe he really would be okay with this, you thought hopefully. 

“Number one:—.”

“Just like old times,” he interrupted. You cut your eyes to him, narrowing them in his direction. “Feels like yesterday when we were standing in the living roo—.”

“Jake, shut the fuck up and let me finish,” you grumbled. “Or I’ll cut you off from me.”

Empty threat. You were not ready to do that anytime soon. 

He waved a hand in your direction, gesturing for you to continue. 

You growled under your breath, but stood straighter, not wanting him to see you flustered. “Number one: we will not make this a relationship. It is—and will stay— just sex.”

“Are you choosing that for both of us?”

“Yes.”

“Not totally fair,” he inserted. “I’m not sure how I feel about you being the one to make that decision.”

“And I’m not sure how I feel about you giving me such a hard time about it,” you bit back. Your defenses were flaring. Who gave him the right? “It’s my decision whether I want a relationship or not. I don’t want one. If you want one, find someone else. Because it’s not going to be with me.”

There were too many reasons it shouldn’t be a relationship. But you weren’t about to get into that. 

His posture had drooped the slightest bit, and his eyebrows, furrowed with a sort of hurt. But before you could consider it any further, he was crossing his arms and his features were hardening.

“Fine,” he stated. Your heart fell in your chest at the word. He continued, “I won’t make a big deal of it. I’ll take what I can get.”

Your mind was in a frenzy. Jake was the worst (or, perhaps, best) at causing you to ride emotional rollercoasters. You couldn’t keep up with him. 

And why was he fine with compromising so quickly? Whatever the reason, you weren’t going to question it.

“Okay,” was all you said. You waited a few beats, your eyes piercing the other’s. Not wanting to waste anymore time, you continued, “I think it will be good for it to be only about sex. Just trust me,” you softly encouraged, reaching out to pat his chest in reassurance. But you went to remove it quickly, remembering you shouldn’t show that sort of behavior in public. 

Instead, he held it there for a few more seconds, letting you feel his heart beating, steadily under your open palm. 

The moment was over before it started, though, and you thought it best anyway. There was a time and a place for that.

So, within record time, you told him the rest of the rules you’d made up (and he had a response for each one): 

2) Nobody will find out. (“We’ve gone over that.”)

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

4) No excessive touching outside the bedroom. (“Alright.”)

5) Try to avoid sleeping together after. Especially avoid: cuddling. Too couple-y. (“Like you said: it’s just fucking. Why would I dare try cuddling you?”)

6) No pet names outside of the bedroom. (“Can do.”)

You stopped before the last few, looking up from your phone to make sure he was actually still engaged and taking you seriously.

To your pleasant surprise, he really seemed to be. He had a pensive look on his face, hand holding his chin in thought. 

Soon, he looked back at you and replied. “Really doesn’t seem too hard,” he paused, raising his brow. “‘S that it?”

Shaking your head, you held up three fingers. You told him, “There’s three more.”

He breathed deeply in response, blowing the breath out slowly. He raised both brows, shook his head in mild agreeance (or maybe disbelief?), but once again motioned a hand at you to continue. 

“Number seven: only sex on the days we’re both off work,” you recited from your screen. This one sounded kind of insane to your own ears when you said it out loud. 

Jake confirmed this with a scoff. Your head perked up sheepishly at the sound, knowing that one was a little strange. Why had you decided that?

“Veto,” he said in annoyance. “Why is that even a rule? What purpose?” He continued, “I’ll be honest, if I look hard enough, I can find the tiniest purpose in every other rule. . . except that one.”

You nodded your head, acknowledging he was right. 

“Do I still have a say? Because I really am not sure I can follow that one.”

“Yes,” you conceded sheepishly. Then, something overtook you and you honestly confided in him. “I think that one was just me grasping for control. I struggle with it on occasion.”

He chuckled quietly to himself, almost fondly. You blushed, waiting for him to respond. 

“Just a little bit. But I’ll roll with it,” he replied, his soft gaze finding yours. You felt your tummy do flips. This. . . felt good. Being a little more open with him, and him accepting it. It felt nice—relieving, almost. “Go on. Last two.”

You cleared your throat, pulling your stare from him to look at your screen. “New number seven: No emotional dependency,” you iterated. With his crinkled brow, you clarified. “We aren’t responsible for dealing with each others’ emotions. That’s for relationships.” 

That one made you sad for some reason. It was almost as though you longed for that with him. . . But it didn’t matter. That one was particularly important to help with boundaries. 

“Alright,” he agreed, the sureness in his tone faltering a bit. Why? Did it matter to him too somehow? Ignore. Whatever. Move on.

“Number eight: no jealous behavior,” you added, scrolling onto the next one when you heard him pipe up. 

“Does that include the girl at the counter tonight?” 

You felt caught. But why? It hadn’t been jealousy. You’d just been annoyed. “That was just me being plain irritated with her lack of professionalism,” you clarified plainly. Your tone said to drop it. 

“Okay,” he smirked, sniffling with a laugh. “Got it. You’re just an extreme professional. Alright.”

You rolled your eyes. “I am. And it was just annoying for her to be like that.”

“Why?” He poked. 

You scoffed with a small huff. Motioning to the counter for emphasis, “She wasn’t doing her job.”

He continued laughing under his breath. 

“Do you want me to continue or not?”

“Yes,” he relented with a tip of his head. “Last one?” 

“Last one,” you confirmed. “Number nine: if one of us wants to end whatever the fuck this is, the other one has to be okay with it. No questions,” You expanded, “There is nothing tying us to each other, so there is no need to fight it if one of us decides to move on.”

He seemed to sit on that one for a bit, his stare boring into the floor. His thumb and index, stroking his chin, as if in deep thought.

“Order up!” The guy from before was back, sliding two trays your way. One piled with several opened beer bottles and the other, filled with steaming food in red baskets. 

Jake suddenly came to, shaking his head and finally looking up. He took the one with the alcohol. 

“This one is heavier,” he glanced over at you. He used his elbow to point at the other. “You grab that one.”

He went to move, but you put a hand on his arm to stop him from going anywhere. 

Looking down in your direction, his eyes were dark with a secret emotion. 

You really wished you could read him better. Every time you thought you could, he would throw you another curve ball of confusion.

“You had a response for everything else,” you pinned him there. “What’s your opinion on the last one?” You used your eyes to show him you were desperate for him to say something. “I want to know what you think.”

He stared at you for several moments, his eyes studying yours. You could have been completely naked and felt less vulnerable than you did at this moment.

Finally, his lips made a tight smile and he responded. “Like I said before: I’ll take what I can get,” he looked down at the beer, finally lifting it off the counter. You followed his lead with your tray, glad to get a response. But you stopped as he did, turned from the counter. He held you in place with his amber-brown eyes. “I just hope whatever the fuck this is doesn’t end anytime soon.”

All you could do was nod, feeling completely conflicted in every way at that moment. 

You had to repeat to yourself that the rules were for a reason. You had to have them to stay in line. Keep things strictly what they were. A relationship was a bad idea. What you had was all you needed. 

Right?

You felt completely torn. Because, all you wanted to say in response was, 

“I never want it to end.”

But you didn’t. You weren’t about to completely contradict yourself with that. You only nodded once more, and started walking, leading the two of you back to the group. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

You never ended up finding any more time to be alone at the bowling alley. 

It was terrible, having to watch him from a distance all night. . . Wanting him more than anything. You felt fully ready to dive head first into this with him. You’d had an actual discussion about it. It felt more real now. 

Whatever the fuck you were to each other. . . It had been firmly placed today with your talk. With the rules.  

Now all you had to do was tie a nice bow on it. 

Consummate the fuckin’ rules.

So, when Elsie told you she had to go see your grandparents before she met you back at the apartment, you let her go. 

Josh had offered to drive her, leaving your car available for you and Jake.

And as you walked to the car, you had a gut feeling you wouldn’t be making it back to the apartment anytime soon.

-🌼🌼🌼-

And about fifteen minutes later confirmed that. Pulled over in an area covered by trees, just off the highway, nearing the apartment. 

But neither of you could have waited if you tried. 

He had you on his lap, your halter top undone, tits out and bouncing as he pounded up into you.

Your pants were down just far enough for you to ride his cock, where he sat in the passenger seat. 

The car had been left on, as you didn’t want it to get so steamy that you’d possibly draw attention. 

And the cool air was causing your skin to prickle, your nipples hard from the chilliness of the A/C. 

You almost brought your shirt back up to cover them when Jake stopped you momentarily, bucking his hips up into you for emphasis. You yelped at the feeling of him pressing at your spot. . . just right. 

“Fuck, Jake,” you moaned, you tried lifting your top back up when he reached a hand up to cover yours, pulling the material back down. 

“No,” he panted, his eyes connecting with yours. 

You wrinkled your brows. “Yes. I’m cold,” you corrected, the last word containing a weird lilt as the head of his dick met your cervix again. “Shit!”

“I’ll keep you warm, then.”

And within seconds, he had his mouth on one hardened peak and the other breast was being massaged by his strong, calloused hand. 

You threw your head back in pleasure, sighing loudly with a whimper that quickly changed into a deep moan. Nipple stimulation—and just boob-play in general. . . It was your kryptonite. Fuck. 

He released his mouth from your breast, giving the taut skin one more swirl from his tongue. But he paused above the other breast, a smirk on his features as he met your hooded gaze. “You like it when I play with your tits?”

You were too dazed by your lust to be annoyed with his slightly cocky attitude. “Yes. It’s my fucking krypto,” you sighed, pulling your hips up, and then sinking back down onto him slowly. He groaned as you did it a few more times. Now it was your turn to smirk. “Do you like it when I do this?” You rolled your hips down, molding your wetness to his thick shaft once more with the word. 

He inhaled deeply, biting his lip. He grasped your hips to make you do it again. “Fuck yeah I do.”

Except with his action, he brought you down harder and your toes curled at the delicious friction against your hidden spot. He held your hip as you kept your body moving on him, but he switched one hand to massage your throbbing clit. 

You sucked in a breath. “Oh,” you whined. “Yeah, that’s it. Fuck,” you sighed, pushing into his finger, desperate to feel every harsh line of the callous in the thumb that toyed with you. You wrapped an arm around his neck for leverage, tangling a hand in his hair, and leaned further into the motion. 

Then, his right hand, that’d been holding your hip, left you to pull the seat lever, reclining the seat all the way back. You gasped as the chair’s movement made your thighs fall open more, gaining him even further access. The head of his dick took its rightful place at the furthest edge of your pussy. 

The sudden change had your eyes rolling back into your head. 

“I needed to feel you like I wanted,” he grunted, both hands finding your hips again. He squeezed the flesh at your hips before gently running his hands, as if admiring your curves, up to your waist. Then, further they went, up to your rib cage. You looked down at his face as you rolled your hips down onto him, causing both of you to shiver with a moan. “Fuck, y/n.”

He wasn’t looking at your face, he was watching in the darkness of the car, as your bodies moved together. You were in perfect rhythm, his hips meeting your tempo with every thrust you’d offer. 

But you wanted him to look at you. You were desperate for his gaze. 

“Jake,” you panted, driving your center against him. “Look at me.”

Jake did as he was told, instantly finding your eyes. He reached a hand up to hold your face, his gaze gentle. You loved his fucking eyes. Even in the natural blue of night that fell over you, you were still able to fall so easily into them. They were so deep, so true. . . never hiding any emotion from you. You wanted to use them as a window to explore him. 

Before you could explore your thoughts any further, his pointer and middle fingers were entering his mouth. You watched, entranced, as he sucked on them long enough to get them wet and ready. And when the fingers found your sensitive clit, you couldn’t contain the whine that escaped your lips. 

“Shit—fuck,” you gasped, mouth falling open as he played you like an instrument. He nudged at the hardened bud like he was making a beautiful melody, and you watched as his eyebrows drew in with the same concentration he gave a guitar solo. Your hips jerked against him of their own volition, needy for more. But you were nearing your end. You could feel it curling in your belly as he paid attention to the side of your pulsing clit. Then it was approaching faster—your movements were erratic, your body craving every piece of his it could get. “Jake—.”

“I know, baby,” he soothed, his own pelvis bucking furiously. “I’m close—you just feel so damn good. Shit.”

And before you knew it, the vibrations were reverberating through you after one particular shift from him. Your body shivered, every nerve in your body, absolutely electric. You felt your walls fluttering furiously around him, but as soon as you registered it happening, he was pulling out of you and finishing against your exposed stomach. 

“Dammit,” he hissed. Your eyes darted down to his dick as he removed it from you hastily, making sure to point it away from your center and directly at your tummy. 

You watched the release drip down your stomach, and into your belly button. But before you could watch much more of it, he was stretching his shirt to help clean your skin. 

Seconds later, both of you were still breathing heavily, bodies coming down from the high. He was looking at the mess of your stomach and you were watching him. His hair was sticking to his forehead, and you couldn’t help it when you went to push some of it away and behind his ear. 

His dark brown eyes found yours, a small, sweet grin fitting to his full lips. And, in that moment, you realized you felt genuinely happy for the first time in a very long time. 

After a few more of the shuddering breaths, 

your heart leaping in your chest at the twinkle in his eyes, you jumped at the telling sound of your sister’s ringtone. 

You quickly pulled your pants back up, and re-situated yourself until you were fully put back together. Jake did the same below you, both moving your bodies to accommodate for the other. 

Once your pants were done, you reached a hand to fully grasp the ties for the halter top to tie it back together. But just before you could re-tie it around your neck, he moved your hair to the side of your throat so you’d have easier access. 

Hurriedly, you finished the job, and as you did so, Jake grabbed your phone for you from the dashboard. Your heart started beating frantically in your chest at the thought of him answering Elsie’s call and her possibly being with Josh and exposing the two of you. 

Or the good chance that Elsie would slip up and say something sly to Jake. 

“Don’t fucking answer it!” You snapped at him. 

His lips turned down, his eyes losing the sparkle, and filling with fire instead. “I wasn’t going to,” he bit back. “Just being fucking kind.” 

You rolled your eyes at him, and grabbed it from him. 

Crawling over the console back into the driver’s seat, you answered your sister. You tried your best to mask being out of breath from the hustle as you buckled your belt. 

“‘Sup, Els?” You swallowed down a fast breath. 

“Fuck, y/n. I got back to the apartment and neither of you were here,” she replied, her voice wracked with nerves. “I tried texting you and you didn’t answer. I was worried about you.” 

You blanched at that, your skin flushing. “I didn’t get a text,” you said back, your voice lilting at the end, in question. You would’ve heard it. . .had you been that lost in the moment? That you hadn’t even heard your phone chime?

When you pulled the phone away from your ear, you noticed a total of eleven texts waiting on your Home Screen from her. 

“Oh, fuck.”

“Yep,” she sassed at you. “Where are you?!”

Frantically, you tried to find a good excuse. But you couldn’t think of anything. You really didn’t care for Elsie to know, but talking about it in front of Jake would show him you’re telling her, which would completely conflict with the rules you put in place. 

Crap.

You stared out the windshield, your eyes shutting as though in resolution to having to expose yourself, right there in front of Jake. 

Why couldn’t you think of something?! 

A hand came to lightly touch your thigh, and you looked over to see Jake, a reassuring look in his stare. 

“Tell her I forgot something important for my guitar at the venue,” he whispered, so quiet, his tone understanding. 

Your face must’ve said ‘how did you know?!’ 

Because then he hushed, “Your volume is all the way fucking up. I’m sure if I were across the street I’d be able to hear it.”

You blushed, looking away from him, out into the night sky again. He removed his hand from your thigh, and you instantly missed it. 

“Jake had to go to the venue for a guitar part he forgot,” you lied, turning your volume down a few notches. “And I got lost finding my way there. It was a fucking mess.”

“Of course you lost yourself,” she responded, impatient. “Just get home. I’ve always been kind of scared to be here by myself.”

“Oh my god. You’re fine,” you responded, putting the car in gear. “We’re on our way.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

Jake’s POV

Life was at its fucking pinnacle— the best it had been for the first time in years. 

Everything that was happening felt aligned in the stars. 

The band was doing fuckin’ fantastic. Every single gig we performed at drew more and more eyes—both fans and otherwise. 

And apparently, even more than that. . . We recently found out that a few producers had been lurking (presumably looking for the right time to bite). The manager we’d picked up had also recently been contacted by a guy connected to this big festival that was happening in August. He’d made it extremely clear that he needed us to agree before he’d even finished pitching the idea. 

“You guys don’t want to miss this opportunity,” he’d excitedly shared, his voice loud and grainy through the speaker as the four of us had listened. “It is a once in a fuckin’ lifetime, boys.”

So, there was all of that. The fact that my dreams seemed to finally be coming true was an exhilarating and unbelievable experience.

It was crazy how all it had taken was one move. The move. The move I had needed to make for the past several years, but had been too afraid of. I’d felt trapped in Illinois. Stuck under someone else’s thumb, stuck with someone I’d stopped loving a long time before I left. 

Meanwhile, the woman had been cheating on me for God knows how long. If I let myself think back on all of it, I’d realize that she was never trustworthy. I’d just fallen in love too young— oblivious to the ways someone could be so horrible.

After her, I swore I would never feel about another woman so deeply. I didn’t want to. She’d ruined it for me. And I was validated even more when Josh told me I needed to take a break from women. 

But I didn’t want a break. I just wanted to be done. No more relationships. Mindless fucking with random women was exactly what I thought I wanted. 

My ex had completely destroyed any desire I could possibly have for a relationship. Fuck relationships. Fuck love. Fuck it all.

Then I met y/n. 

She’d turned it all around with one look into her breathtaking eyes. 

It caught me completely off guard. I’d tried my damndest to reject it.

And even after all of the shit I put her through (due to me acting like a giant ass, stubborn baby), she still wanted me.

But not like I wanted her.

I wanted it all. I didn’t want just mindless sex with her. Even though Josh had adamantly instructed me to “take a fucking break”, I had resolved that I couldn’t convince myself I wanted that when it came to her. Because I wanted her. Bad. In every way. 

There was just something about her that was so fucking addictive. She was easily the most beautiful woman I’d ever laid eyes on, she loved music like I did, she was easy to talk to about anything (matching me perfectly in every conversation—or argument—we had), and she wore her heart on her sleeve (even though I knew she didn’t think so). She was endearing. 

Then there was the giant shroud of mystery around her. So many pieces to her puzzle I could tell she was hiding that I wanted to put together. 

But she didn’t want me to. She didn’t want me in every way. 

No. She just wanted sex. Sex with rules, at that. 

And at first, I didn't want to agree to any of the rules. I didn’t want rules—I knew what I wanted. I’d planned on it starting as sex and turning into more. You know, a natural flow of things. 

But her rules had made it apparent she didn’t want that. At all. So, I’d decided that the best way to have her was to have her however I could. 

So, if she just wanted sex, that’s what I’d give her.

Even though I wanted to give her all of me.

I never thought I’d want that with a woman again, but she’d proven me so, very wrong. . . no matter how hard I’d wanted to deny it. And I didn’t want it with just any woman. I wanted it with her. 

Though in spite of the relationship with her not being everything I wanted it to be, it gave me a special piece of her that I held so close. 

Sex with her was the most electrifying thing I’d ever experienced. More than the sex had ever been with any other woman. 

And even crazier: it was more compelling than playing the guitar. 

Fucking nuts—I’d never met a woman that had trumped the act of playing guitar. . .

But y/n had done just that. 

So, even though it wasn’t what I wanted in my heart, I knew I wanted her. Everything she was and is. Everything that came with her. 

But, if this was all I could get, it would have to do. It was better than not having her at all.

Having her in my arms, my dick filling her perfect pussy. . .it was the best part of my life at the moment. More so than the band. The festival. The fans. 

I still loved guitar more than a person should. . 

But. . .I loved being with her more than that. 

There was nothing in the world like watching her unfold at the work of my hands, or my mouth, or my cock. The way her body would tense, her head thrown back, a scrunched brow. . . And the whines she’d emit. . . 

I wished my guitar could make such a beautiful sound. 

And the way she’d squeeze around me, engulfed in her perfect, wet heat. So tight, warm, and smooth like velvet. . . Fuck. 

In my heart, though, I secretly hoped it would all change. That she’d decide to make it more. 

I wouldn’t ever push it. She mattered too much to me for me to do that to her. I didn’t want to make her feel like she needed to be more with me if she didn’t want it. . .I just wanted her to want me like I did, her.

But, for the time being, until some sort of magic happened and she changed her mind, I would take what I could get. 

Because, moments like the one I was in right now— her quivering and panting on top of me. Her sweaty tits, pressed against my thighs as her round, soft ass was flush against my equally sweaty abdomen. 

I could feel every bit of her dripping pussy, fluttering around me. It was still slick from my mouth and how well I’d made her cum just minutes prior. 

It felt so damn good and I was fucking loving every second of it. She fit my dick like a glove. 

“Damn, baby,” I sighed, grunting with a thrust against her. When she squeaked with a moan, I knew that I’d hit a special spot. “You like that?”

I did it again, just to hear the noise she made for a second time. She constricted around me and my cock pulsed, suddenly feeling very close. Shit. 

“Fuuuck,” she whined, her back arching. I held the curve of her ass in one hand, massaging the supple flesh with a thumb as I held her hip.

With another push of my hips, I met her sensitive spot one last time, eliciting a surprised whine from her. 

I flipped us around, removing her from me, and turned her. When she sank back down, she was facing towards me, once again riding my throbbing cock. 

But this view was better. Seeing her blissed out expressions as we fucked was amazing.

And when her tits bounced in my face, so round, full and sometimes already marked from my mouth, I had to try my hardest to not jizz right on the spot. 

In moments just like these, I couldn’t stop myself from leaning forward to lick a hardened nipple into my mouth. I licked around her areola, appreciating every ripple and curve of the sensitive flesh. I pointed my tongue, and nudged at the bud, just like I knew she liked. I did so to each breast, knowing it would be sure to send her spiraling and wanting that from her.

And before long, I felt her walls start contracting around me. I leaned back, knowing she was close and needing to see her finish. 

She looked down at me as she continued bouncing on top of me, her mouth opened just the slightest bit as she moaned at the angle. She relaxed her hips and flattened the inside of her thighs against the tops of mine. 

“Fuck,” I sighed, enjoying the way I could feel every damn inch of her. 

Though, I couldn’t help taking the reins for a moment to see her unfold in this position. Seeing her like this, letting the sun reflect off of her skin, beads of sweat glistening on her smooth skin. I had to let my lips find her shoulder as she rocked closer to me, and I kissed some of the sweet exertion off of her shaking body. 

And when I leaned up, my body filled hers to the point of her throwing her head back with a loud moan. She came back to, immediately finding my eyes to look at me. A secret smile was on her face. I reciprocated it, letting the quiet moment drown everything else out. 

But I snapped my eyes away from hers when she glanced between our bodies, mouth hanging open as she did so. I looked down, enjoying the entire view of her soft body. The movement of her hips, swaying steadily as she straddled me. . .completely mesmerizing. 

When I looked back up, she was waiting for me. I found her gaze, and tried my best to memorize every fleck of color in her eyes, glowing in the fading sunlight from the day. The sunset complimented her, making her look like the most magnificent piece of artwork. 

Fuck any other so-called famous painting. . .

Y/n put them all to utter shame. 

Her eyebrows dipped in, and she kept eye contact with me. I circled my hips, feeling the way her soaking walls enveloped me. Then, I pounded up into her, savoring what I could do from my position below her. She tightened deliciously around me, constricting me in the most immaculate way.

She whined and whimpered, the sound like music to my ears. And I couldn’t help but echo the sound as I felt her release drip down onto me. Her soft body was tense as she finished. She was so tight and warm around me. . .shit.

Enveloped in ecstasy, she threw her head back as she rode out her orgasm on top of me. Even though I couldn’t see her face, I appreciated what I could see. I watched her hips, still rocking against me. The view of her fresh, sweet cum on my dick made me bite my lip.

I knew I was on the verge of release, and no matter how badly I wanted to paint her walls, I pulled out. (I wasn’t ever going to do that to her. She didn’t want it, and I wasn’t about to do it if it wasn’t what she wanted.)

When I pulled myself out of her, I took a brief moment to grab her by the hips and lay her on her back. 

Her breasts were round and soft, nipples erect and begging to be covered with my climax from their home on her wet chest. 

And as I jerked myself onto them, feeling immediate relief as I came, I briefly glanced up at her face to see her watching the entrancing sight with me. 

“Like what you see?” I said, panting with one final pull of my hand against my cock, letting every last bit of me drain onto her. 

And as I let go of myself, sighing with exhaustion, I grabbed my shirt from next to her head to wipe her chest clean. She gave me a fucked-out grin. Humming an affirmation to my question, she softly nodded her head with a yawn. Her eyes fluttered closed as she curled up on my bed, her hair fanned out on the pillow. I pulled the sheets and comforter up to rest over her arms, and the smile she sent me as I did so made my heart leap in my chest. 

Dammit, she was a fuckin’ dream.

I got up to take a quick shower before the show we had tonight, leaving her to rest in my sheets. She was far too precious to disturb. 

I loved the fact that she felt comfortable enough to do that; stay in my bed. 

I knew she’d end up coming to the show tonight, and I was hoping her resting now would help her to feel fully awake to be a part of it with me.

She’d been consistent for the past couple of weeks with coming to every single show. I couldn’t help but notice that this whole fuck buddy thing had her wanting to be a part of my life more than before.

Our secret, somehow drawing us closer.

The nagging voice in my head kept reminding me that Josh was there, too, so it was possible it wasn’t all for me. . .but I also knew better and usually told the voice to shut the fuck up.

I wanted to enjoy myself—let myself be happy with her being there and not let pessimistic thoughts get in the way. 

It was fucking fantastic when I’d perform, and I’d simultaneously know that she was out there, enjoying every second of it with me. I would never say it to her for fear of freaking her out, but . . .

She was my favorite fan to entertain. The best smile in the crowd for me to look out and see. 

Anytime she was there, I knew for a goddamned fact I performed better. She was my lucky charm. 

End of Jake’s POV

-🌼🌼🌼-

The rest of July and beginning of August were chock-full of the following: finishing your summer course, working almost double time to make up for Josh’s weird hours. . .and most importantly: fucking Jake Kiszka.

All of the time, as a matter of fact. It had become an almost-daily thing. And you weren’t about to let it change. 

Because fuck was it the best sex you’d ever had. Jesus Christ. 

You were fine with it being strictly sex. It was good for both of you. He was able to stay focused on his career, and you weren't at risk of getting hurt by him, or distracted from school. It kept lines very clear and thick. Never giving any kind of idea that it could become more. You’d have sex, then go about life like normal. In front of your friends, neither of you ever let anything look even slightly amiss— except for one thing you were sure they’d noticed. 

Your relationship had changed from before. . . Friendship, making its grand entrance. 

Having sex with Jake had, obviously, given you both several more opportunities to learn each other and bond. . . It had been impossible to not become friends. Being friendly to each other, including in front of everyone else was now the norm, and you really fucking liked it. 

Being friends with Jake was honestly great. He wasn’t constantly on the defense anymore. Instead, hopping to your defense a few times. 

Whether it be snapping at Sam for making a sideways comment he hadn’t thought of before he’d said it. Or the rando guy at the bowling alley who’d sized you up. 

You’d never vocalize the way it would make your tummy flip or the way you’d think about it later when you’d fuck him nice and slow. . . The idea of him defending you, making your heart and body do funny things. 

It was just nice to have a good friend. 

And it was even more nice knowing you’d, more likely than not, end up in his bed at the end of each day.

But, of course, not letting yourself fall asleep in there as that would definitely blur the nice, comforting, dark lines that’d been drawn.

What you weren’t about to admit was how hard it was for you to leave him at night.

And how cold you’d feel, alone in your bed. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

Quiet mornings with him might were the best and the worst. 

The ones where you’d sneak into his room, always finding him still-asleep. You’d wake him up by crawling under the covers and slipping the band of his briefs down. 

It had become so routine that it was like his cock would wait for you— already hard and the tip emitting the tiniest bit of precum. 

Sometimes you’d ride it to wake him up. But, you honestly preferred the other times. . . Where you would let your mouth envelop the crown of his dick, and then the entire shaft in slow, languid strokes of your tongue. 

And every time, to your pleasure, it didn’t take long for him to awaken. His tired eyes would open, finding you as he’d wipe the sleepiness from them. 

A soft smile, gracing his handsome features. 

Then, adding to your bliss, he would take control and fuck you until your toes would curl. The morning birds would chirp outside his window as you’d unravel at his hands, mouth, or thick cock. . . a most ideal start to your day. 

Then, when he’d finish, you never found yourself looking at his face. You weren’t sure why, but it intimidated the hell out of you to witness what he looked like when he would unfold. You were sure his features looked the most beautiful they possibly could. . . Even just envisioning the dip of his brow, his mouth falling open as he emptied onto your chest, stomach, or back. . . It felt too intimate.

So, instead, you’d listen to the little noises he’d make, and watch his pretty dick pulse as it would spurt onto your breasts or tummy. The warmth of his release, a surprisingly wonderful feeling on your bare skin.

But the worst part would be after. . .when he’d clean you off with such care. How, after you’d return from the bathroom to refresh, he would be waiting for you, the covers open and an arm, extended and waiting for you to curl into. You would naturally mold to his side, his arm strong as it would help you roll into him. Usually, you’d fall asleep, with your head on his chest and hear his steady heartbeat lull you to sleep. 

But, other times, like this morning, you’d sit your chin on top of your hand, resting on his chest. And you’d just. . . talk. 

His calloused fingertips would draw mindless shapes on your back and you’d get lost in his chocolate irises. 

“What’s your middle name?” He asked, his voice so relaxing in the gray quietness of his bedroom. 

You told him, and he got a little glint in his eye. His lips had perked, “That suits you,” he sighed, letting a few fingers curl in your hair. He studied the way his fingers looked in your hair as you watched his pupils dilate in watching the action. 

“What’s yours?” You’d wondered aloud. 

His eyes found yours again, his brow raising. “Thomas,” he lazily responded. 

“Suits you,” you repeated his line. Your eyes squinted with a giggle as he tickled your side just a bit. 

“Copycat,” he smiled. 

“It does fit you,” you confirmed, more seriously. “Jacob Thomas,” you said, trying the name on your lips.

You couldn’t help but catch how his eyes lit up at the sound. He bent his arm to perch his head up with his free arm, setting his head on the curve of his forearm. 

“I like the way it sounds coming from your mouth,” he murmured. 

“Say mine,” you requested. 

And, he did as you said. 

The grin that found its way to your mouth was unstoppable. You loved the way your name sounded with his velvety tone. 

You’d never heard it sound so pretty. 

For the next ten minutes, it went on like that. 

Just little bits and pieces of yourselves, getting shared with the other. Things that didn’t expose your hidden truths, but little surface-level things that helped in knowing the other better. 

And when you finally decided to get up and start your day, you stood next to each other as you brushed your teeth. It was sweet. And you felt close to him. You really, really liked it.

But what made it so bad was that you weren’t sure it was okay to feel so close to him. It wasn’t wise to let yourselves get so wrapped up in the other. . . But it felt too nice for the time being to put a stop to it.

You’d always convince yourself that friends did shit like that all the time. How else were you supposed to get to know someone? 

So, you let it happen under the guise that it was just friends getting acquainted with each other. 

It was just so intimate. . . And what it did to your heart was cruel. 

Those quiet moments tempted you, made you want more with him. More you already knew you couldn’t ever have. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

Friends was still going on in the background when your eyes opened. All of the lights were still on, and your laptop was balanced on your blanket-covered thigh. 

And there was a giant crook in your neck from letting your head roll onto the back of the couch. 

You must’ve dozed off in the middle of writing a paper. 

Shouldn’t have had those couple glasses of wine. . ., you tiredly thought, going to snuggle back into the couch, in a more comfortable position.

But what caught you off guard was the hand rubbing your arm. The quiet voice, bringing you out of your daze. 

“Y/n,” Jake urged, his hand still smoothing up and down your arm. “Come on, babe. Wake up. Let’s get you to bed.”

You huffed, sleep pulling you back. “Don’t want sex right now. Tired.”

He chuckled, his hand still massaging your arm. Then, he was pushing you up to a full sitting position, your head felt dizzy. “I know,” he reassured, his voice calming you down. “I mean, you need to go to bed. Go to sleep.”

You blinked your eyes, squinting in the brightness of the room. “I need to finish my paper.”

“You’re too tired to do that,” he said. “You were out of it when I got back. Finish your paper tomorrow.”

You drooped your head in defeat. “Fine,” you conceded. It took a couple tries of standing up for you to realize you couldn’t do it on your own, and before you could try again, Jake was helping you. “Thanks, Jakey,” you mumbled. 

A few more guided steps to your bedroom found you sliding under your already-turned down sheets and down comforter. Jake helped your head find the pillow as you laid down to sleep.

 Just as you were about to let sleep totally take you, you jostled with a thought. “Stevie hasn’t eaten yet,” you sleepily fumbled with your covers to get up. 

Jake’s hand stopped your actions, “I already fed her,” he assured. “You go to sleep.”

“The TV and lights—.”

“I’ll turn them off,” he pulled the covers up to your chin. “Goodnight.”

Finally, you relented, and just seconds later, as you were about to fade into dreamland again, you stirred. 

Too cold. Too lonely.

“Jake?” You called. Not hearing a response, you called again. “Jake?!”

He came back, rushing in with a worried look on his face. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

You nestled back under your covers, relaxing knowing that he was near. Your eyes fell shut again. “Lonely,” you mumbled into the pillow. 

“What?” He crouched next to your bed, brushing his fingers through your hair. “You’re hungry?”

Irritated, you flicked your eyes open to give him a look. “Lonely.”

“Oh,” he leaned back a bit, his hand falling from your hair. At the motion stopping, you whined, shutting your eyes. He got the hint and started again. “What do you want me to do about that?”

“Lay with me.”

“That’s against the rule—.”

“Not if you just lay with me for a little bit,” you muttered, opening your lids to give him your best puppy dog eyes. “Just until I fall asleep.”

“And what if I accidentally fall asleep?”

“Worry about it in the morning,” you scooted over a little, opening the bed up for him. “Please?”

He sighed before saying, “I need to finish cleaning up real quick. I’ll be back.”

And when he came back, he’d changed into pajama pants, sans a shirt. You nuzzled into his solid chest, and let his breaths be your white noise to get you to sleep. 

It was the first night in weeks that you’d slept completely sound, not feeling any worries as you enjoyed a dreamless sleep.

-🌼🌼🌼-

He’d humored you a few times and went to the Black and Gold to look at vinyl with you on  days you both had time off.

You’d spend a bit of time browsing, and then take breaks to bicker with each other. Music was still where you occasionally butted heads, but it had turned into the kind of head butting that you enjoyed. 

It was a constant battle of challenging each other, and it gave you ample opportunity to defend the music you loved so much.

And more often than not these days . . . The little pokes and prods ended with you two conceding and giving the other person a chance. 

Usually, you’d leave the store with a new record in tow that the other had recommended. And then, you’d go home and enjoy the music together, giving it a chance. 

Then, normally, you’d end up bent over the couch as he railed you from behind, the records being the most incredible background noise to the moans and groans elicited between the two of you.

After that, the two of you spent and panting with his sweaty chest sticking to your equally sweaty back, you’d decide to order pizza and watch a few episodes of New Girl to finish the night.

-🌼🌼🌼-

“So, explain Baby Dragon.”

You giggled, just closing the K-Cup pod into the Keurig. “What?”

“Your nickname,” he affirmed, coming to stand with his butt pressed against the sink, arms crossed. His face was open, imploring out of mere curiosity. 

“They decided to call me that when we started binging Game of Thrones together.” 

He nodded. “I knew that part.” He continued, “But why?”

Humming, you took your coffee mug off the Keurig. You tapped your chin, holding the mug in the other hand. “Have you seen Game of Thrones?” 

“Yes,” he confirmed. “That shit’s right up my alley.”

“So, you know how the baby dragons are small, yet fierce?” You asked, taking a cautious sip of the hot drink. “The guys claimed I was super adorable and cute like them, too. Fuckin’ weirdos.”

It all clicked in his head, a smirk on his features as he nodded. “Duh, Jake,” he said to himself, shaking his head. “That makes so much sense. I don’t know why it didn’t click before.”

“To be fair, it could’ve meant a variety of things.”

He reached an arm above your head, getting his own K-cup and mug down from the cabinet and began his own brew as he eyed you up and down. 

“You are fierce,” he agreed. But then he took a hand to your hip, squeezing. “But not quite as small as the baby dragons,” he snaked his hand around to hold a handful of your ass. You felt yourself immediately twitch with need. He leaned down and kissed your lips, his breath fresh from his Crest toothpaste. Your tummy filled with warm fuzzies. “You’re curvier. In all the best fucking ways,” he pulled away and you instantly missed him. He grabbed his coffee off the machine and added sugar. 

You’d already started cracking some eggs for breakfast, as he went about getting the toast ready for you. 

He placed a strong hand on your stomach, and you leaned into his touch as you scrambled your eggs. You tipped your head back as he swooped your hair to the side to give you a quick kiss on the lips. 

Then, he was passing you as he made his way out and to the shower. But on his way out of the kitchen, he stopped to add, “And you’re way fuckin’ cuter.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

It was a steaming hot day in the middle of August when Sam proposed that everyone join him at this AirBnb he had booked. 

(It had been a classic, weird Sam thing to book the AirBnb. Literally just getting it to spend the weekend hooking up with a girl he’d recently met.)

About halfway through the day, the sun beating down on all of you, Josh proposed using the little bar off the side of the place. Sam, Daniel, and Sam’s ‘friend’ had heartily agreed. You had as well, and went to get out with everyone else. 

But then you heard Jake’s voice, and paused. 

“Y/n and I are enjoying the water too much. ‘S hot as fuck,” he had said it loud enough for everyone to give simultaneous ‘okay!’s’ in response. They were all hurriedly making their way to the mini bar, leaving you in the pool.

You’d stopped yourself, still partially out of the pool, halfway up the ladder. Looking back at him, questioning, you found he was blatantly staring at your mostly exposed ass, that was peeking just above the water. 

You squinted your eyes at him, as he lounged with his arms on the concrete edge of the pool. He was still sitting where he’d been last time you’d seen him. Sitting on a little ledge beneath the water. His sunglasses pushed down his nose a bit to expose his line of sight, burning into your ass. 

And when everyone was out of earshot, you spoke. “Like what you see, Kiszka?” 

His eyes snapped to yours when you’d spoken, a smirk gracing his dark features. “Fuck yeah I do,” he nodded his head at you once, signaling you to move. “Come over here.”

And without having to be told twice, you sunk back into the cool water, swimming over to meet him. Never breaking eye contact, you waded slowly and grabbed a noodle to rest your arms and breasts on as you floated over. 

He continued on as you got close. “Did you have to wear the tiniest swimsuit you own?”

You looked bashful, but your smile was flirty. “Oh, you think it’s too small? Should I get rid of it?”

When you were close enough, he reached out a hand to pull you into him by your pool noodle. 

He spoke softly in your ear. “Don’t you fuckin’ dare.”

Your skin blazed, you whispered in his exposed ear, his hair tucked behind it. “Why?”

He grabbed the noodle out from under your chest and threw it over the edge of the pool, landing with a flop on the pavement. And when he could, he grabbed you smoothly by your waist, into his crotch. 

And you were suddenly able to feel why. He was hard against you, making your legs weak and your pussy flutter. He was smug, his sunglasses still pushed down as you matched his stare and met his boldness by wrapping your legs around him. 

You used your new position to rock your hips into his, the pool waving out around you just a bit as you did so. 

“You better be careful,” he said softly, his grip going to your round ass, your bottoms leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. 

You tensed, gasping when you felt his fingers toy with the string of your bikini bottoms. 

“The more noise you make, the sooner they’ll come back,” he swiftly untied one of the strings, exposing you to the water. The coldness made you hiss through your teeth. “Mm,” he hummed. “Cold, baby? Let me warm you up.” 

A finger slipped inside of you and you had to bite your lip to hide the moan dying to leave your lips. You felt his finger slip in and out, in and out, getting closer to hitting your secret spot every time it would reenter. You wrapped an arm around his neck. “Your finger?” You asked haughtily, breathing heavy. “Was expecting mor—.”

You couldn’t hide the gasp as the one finger changed to two, plunging into you, his thumb drawing circles against your hard clit. “Better, princess?”

Changing from one arm around his neck to two, you thrusted into his fingers, rolling your hips to match his thumb on your clit. The water waved around you. Gripping his hair, you looked into his sunglasses, now pushed back up, his eyes blazing through the tinted lenses. Your body was shaking, but you weren’t going to cum like this. 

You knew what you wanted right now and it wasn’t his fingers. 

“Too scared to use your dick?” You challenged him.

He momentarily removed his fingers, roughly bringing you back to feel his thick, clothed shaft. Your bare folds pulsed at the feeling of him so close to you. You felt him twitch underneath you. 

“What’s stopping you, Jakey?” You reached one hand, one arm keeping your balance to thrust into him, to play with the hem of his black trunks. “Afraid they’ll see?”

He replaced his fingers in you again, flexing them once again, this time meeting your g-spot. You exhaled above him, your body tensing. “Are you?” He questioned, seeming to genuinely wonder. “You don’t want them to know. I'm just trying to respect your rules, sweetheart,” he used the nickname, but his tone was anything but sweet, dripping with sarcasm. 

You didn’t take the time to respond, stopping your movements briefly, and looking behind your shoulder to check if the coast was clear. You couldn’t even hear them anymore. They were gone for the time being. If you moved swiftly enough. . . 

He looked disappointed for a second, but you couldn’t see what else his face did as you acted on your quick, risky idea, holding your nose to plunge underwater and pull his bottoms down, his hips moving up immediately to help you. You took no time to sink your wet mouth over his smooth cock. It wasn’t as heavy as you were used to on your tongue, the water helping with some sort of anti-gravity shit. 

There was a hand in your hair, pushing you down onto him. You knew he’d like it. Keeping your nose pinched, you reached the other hand, slowly through the water, to wrap at his base, squeezing him. Your tongue licked long stripes on the underside of his dick, savoring it and meeting his head every time you squeezed him with your hand. 

But you didn’t keep that way for long, needing to breathe. You pulled his bottoms almost all the way back up, but left his dick out. When you re-emerged, smoothing your hair back, you took a good look at his face, seeing his mouth hanging open. 

Ha, gotcha, you thought, deviously. Just you wait, baby.

When you came back to him you took zero time as you reached below the water to find his length. You positioned yourself over it, quickly sinking onto him, ready to get this over with before people came back. But as your walls fluttered around him, you wished you were alone. 

He felt so damn good. Fuck. 

You wiggled your hips, the smallest whine escaping your lips at how well he filled you up. This caused his head to roll to the side the slightest bit, squeezing his eyes shut. 

“Feel good?” You teased, rocking your hips on top of his thick cock. “We’ve gotta make this quick, so help a girl out.”

You shouldn’t have said anything, because as soon as the words left your mouth, he was grasping your hips, leveling himself to slam up into you. 

The loud moan that left your mouth was unavoidable, and you clasped a hand over your mouth to keep your noises hushed. 

He raised his hips as forcefully as he could with the weight of the water, lifting you up and down a few times, and you matched him with measured rolls of your hips. 

Without any warning, he pulled a triangle of your swim top to the side to see a tit as they bounced with each thrust. He leaned forward a bit, licking a circle around your nipple and then grasped your boob in his strong hand as he pumped with merciless rhythm into you. 

“Fuck,” you moaned through your hand. Your breast was still tingling from where he licked it. But now you had the friction from his palm against your nipple, combined with his movements. . . And it was too much. You removed your hand, leaning to whisper in his ear. “More, Jake.”

And, without relenting even a bit, he started giving you exactly what you asked for. It was slightly painful, but it was what you needed at that moment. 

You started groaning into his ear, feeling his thickness slide smoothly within you. Sensing your need, he slipped a thumb between you to rub even circles against your bundle of nerves. The steady circles, along with the erratic thrusts of his dick into you, sent you spiraling, quick. 

Knowing you well, he pushed your mouth into his sweat-drenched neck. Your tongue found the saltiness of his skin, kissing his neck to mask the noises that left you, your legs quivering as you finished. 

Just as soon, he was pulling himself out of you, and lifting his bottoms back up to cum behind the black material. 

You dunked beneath the water to cool off, and to your happy surprise, he joined you, his sunglasses off. Looking into his eyes for as long as you could, you sent him a little grin, going to lift back up. But before you could, he grabbed you swiftly behind your neck and met your lips underwater. 

As soon as you parted, you were rising back up, pushing your hair back as he placed his sunglasses over his eyes again.

And, as if on cue, you heard feet scuttling back to the pool just as you were adjusting your top and re-tying your bottoms above water. 

“Drinks!” Josh sang to you both. He handed both you and Jake your respective beverages. You sipped yours, and Jake took a healthy swig of beer as soon as they were placed in your hands. 

“This is fucking delicious,” you commented. “What is it?”

“Pineapple Upside Down,” Sam’s girl-thing responded, sipping her own. 

You hummed, nodding. 

Taking another drink, you went to sit it down on the pool when Danny piped up. “Whatever the hell you guys were playing while we were gone. . . We’re in.” 

You went silent, not even daring to look over at Jake. Though, you could hear as he started choking on his drink. 

“So much splashing!” Sam added. “It sounded fun!”

“Sunken Treasure, I’m sure,” Josh chimed in, grabbing the sinking stick from the ledge next to his long-haired twin. “You guys know Jake loves that game.”

The other two gave sounds of agreement. Your belly flipped.

Letting yourself look over at Jake, he was looking at Josh, nodding, trying his best to look convincing. “Hell yeah,” he piped up. “It’ll be more fun with more people though.”

“Well then. . .let’s play!” Josh yelled, excited. His new curls, sopping wet and sticking to his forehead as he threw the stick into the water.

Before you started playing, you sent a secret glance to your roommate, who was already smirking over at you. 

Your cheeks heated, getting a thrill at how oblivious all of your friends were to what you had truly been “playing.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

You were with Theo at a coffee shop, studying for the final in your summer course, when the first email came in. 

The first email that signaled the end of summer. The usual “Welcome Back!” email which included too many campus announcements and upcoming events. . . 

Your heart sunk when you saw it come in. 

Deep in your gut, you knew that this was what you’d been dreading since starting things with Jake. 

Real life getting in the way of summer and the fun you’d been having with Jake. 

You didn’t know why, but this email seemed to scream at you that you needed to get your shit together. 

And, as hard as it was, you were going to try your damndest to ignore the voice in your head for the time being. It was the same aggravating, pessimistic voice that bothered you consistently by speaking so-called reason into your life. 

(The same, familiar one that’d looked out for you as you’d grieved your mother leaving you as a little girl.)

This time, it felt as though the voice was also telling you that when school started, it would be time to cut things off with Jake. 

It’s not a smart decision to start your senior year distracted, y/n, it chided.

But you didn’t want to listen to that fucking voice. 

Not yet. 

Summer wasn’t over. And you weren’t about to let the damned nagging voice end your fun (and newfound, genuine happiness) too soon.  

-🌼🌼🌼-

You came home from studying, close to tears. It was ridiculous. There was no reason to be so sad about all of this ending. It was literally just sex. You could get it elsewhere.

But I don’t want it elsewhere, you thought. I only want it with Jake. Fuck. Why?

If you thought about it long enough, you’d let yourself see why. But you weren’t about to do that. Hell no. 

To your surprise, while you were feeding Stevie, you felt a tear hit your hand. 

You groaned, wiping furiously under your eyes, pressing your palms to your heated cheeks. “Stupid,” you told yourself, hearing your voice was thick with tears. 

Just as you felt another tear leave your eye, the front door opened. 

You tried to turn before Jake could see you, but Stevie came up to your leg, purring to comfort you before you could. Shit. 

“Y/n?” He said, placing a comforting hand on your back. Hesitantly, you looked up at him through your tears. Why were you crying so fucking much? “You okay, baby?”

The pet name was the final straw, and instead of it making you angry with him that he’d said it, it sent you curling into his arms. 

Letting your tears soak his shirt, you cried out of ridiculous sadness that you’d have to say goodbye to this thing you had with him soon. Too soon.

You couldn’t keep it. You would never let whatever this was distract either of your paths. And you knew eventually it would. Better to end it before that ever happened.

But not yet.

And, as always, you were set on it not being something to lose your best friend over. If Josh were to find out of it happening, you knew his trust would be completely betrayed.

This wasn’t something that was meant to last. You’d known that from the beginning. So why was it feeling so hard to face right now?

Because you’re finally feeling true happiness and trust with someone new—someone special— for the first time in years, the sweet, comforting voice in your head spoke. Because he is something special and you know it.

You continued to feel Jake, running his fingers through your hair, rubbing your back in comforting strokes. “Shhh,” he soothed. You raised your head from his chest and he used his thumbs to wipe away the excess tears. When eventually you’d caught your breath, he asked. “What happened?”

Looking up at him, you found his brow furrowed in concern. You couldn’t fully tell him what you were actually upset about. Absolutely not. 

Moving away from him the slightest bit to gain your bearings, you sniffed a few times. “Just intimidated by what’s to come, I guess,” you said, not lying. Just not giving the whole truth. “Not ready for life to change with senior year and stuff.”

He lifted his lips in a reassuring grin, his eyes full of empathy for your current state. “I get that,” he said, his raspy voice ever-soothing. He tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, smoothing your cheek in the process. “But surely it won’t be too bad, right?”

You had to bite your lip to keep another sob from breaking loose. Sniffing the tears back, you nodded, slapping a fake smile on your face. “Yeah. Not too bad.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

a/n: as the saying goes, good things don't always last forever. . . next chapter will bring some changes for our precious y/n and jake . . . what do you think those changes will be?

please, as always, don't hesitate to reach out! i love, love, love hearing from you all! your feedback means the world to me &lt;3

if you’d like to be added to the taglist, please let me know!

& 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

[quarantineddreamer]

✨ B's RebelCaptain Rec List ✨

Apologies in advance as I have NO DOUBT that I missed including some very talented individuals and their works in this list. (This is by no means comprehensive.)

I haven't been here all that long, but wow--since day one I've been blown away by the talent in this fandom and the dedication of all the creators.

So, thank you lovely souls for sharing your beautiful art (in all its many forms) for us to enjoy--and thank you RC community as a whole for being so lovely and welcoming this past year! I am truly grateful to be screaming/crying/rewriting canon with you 💖

Give Up the Ghost by @frostbitepandaaaaa

I mean...what can I say? I love all of Frost's writing, but this was the first work I ever read of hers and it is devastating and gorgeous and will make you lose your mind. I remember the first time I read it just...lingering on certain sentences because I was in awe of how beautiful they were. Just read it. Trust me. (And then check out her WIP 12 Days afterwards!)

threshold by @astromechs

Another writer whose works I love. (Okay, that's pretty much everyone on this list--the RC fandom is so frickin talented). But for me, this fic in particular stands out as one that gives incredible insight into Cassian's character--and an adorable story overall. Heartfelt and beautiful.

built on hope by @luciechat

I am particularly obsessed with chapter 3 of this collection of prompt-writes Getting Back Together (in the Cold). Lucie paints the picture so clearly and the tension throughout is delicious. Highly recommend reading this RC Hoth fic--and Lucie's other amazing works!

we were never going to make it by @fulcrumstardust

Okay off the bat: be mindful of the tags! This was a whumptober fic and it is BIG SAD. But it is also so, so beautiful. The emotion woven throughout cuts to the bone and as painful as it was, the premise of the story was very well executed. (And if you're looking for a lighter read--maybe a spicy one--Moria's one-shot SOLAR STORM has such an incredible setup. The sexual tension is so well done.)

The RebelCaptain Romance Collection by @agentjackdaniels

I couldn't choose just one from this collection! Luce writes the softest, sweetest, fluffiest stories for RC that you will ever read. (Which makes perfect sense if you're lucky enough to get to know her because Luce is such a genuine, sweet soul.) These fics are like a warm-hug for the soul--just what you need after watching Rouge One.

the things you said by @gaygingersnaps

Again: I am not usually one for Modern AUs but I think the RC fandom is changing me and the first I ever read was Eli's amazing fic. I am obsessed with how Eli writes Jyn's internal dialogue. It's so in character and sharp and will make you smile and shake your head and go "Oh, Jyn!" This collection of stories is idiots-in-love like nothing else and you will fall in love with the world Eli has so thoughtfully crafted for a modern-day RC.

objection, your honor by @andorerso

I'm not usually one for modern AUs, but this fic is just so much fun. The banter between Cass and Jyn is so in character and so sharp and witty and the whole time I was reading I had a grin on my face. (These two idiots.) I love all the little details Sissi considers in this AU (Chewie being the dog for example), but that's no surprise! She is the queen of AUs!

Tethered (to the Story We Must Tell) by @dilf-din

I just absolutely loved the setup for this fic. Jess manages to fit these characters into a magical world so seamlessly by embedding the most incredible details from the Star Wars universe. (I was obsessed with the "stormtroopers".) Jess's writing is so smooth and rich and will immediately grab your attention.

Coping Mechanisms by @mosylufanfic

I think this was the first fic I ever read of mosylu's! I love the way she writes Jyn--always perfectly in character, strong and sassy. But in this fic in particular, I love the softness she brings to Jyn in how she cares for Cassian. I found it to be a very beautiful, healing read. (But if you're looking for something a bit longer or more upbeat! I mean, take your pick. Mosylu is another author who is amazing at AUs and her works are always such fun reads.)

RC Proposal by @ninsletamain

I could have put any of nins' pieces down as a rec. (Like seriously go scroll her feed she's insanely talented and her work blows my mind everytime without fail). But I chose this one because it is just so rich and full of detail, I love the story it tells, and you cannot help but smile whenever you look at it.

Claw Machine by @winterdruid

Definitely an all-time favorite for me. I remember making a joke about claw-machine as a first date when I was doing a RO rewatch with some friends and then this masterpiece showed up on my feed and my jaw dropped?! It's so fun and cute and well-done and I reblog it every time I see it soooo.

Seashore (for RC Fluffbruary) by @adeptnenyim

I love the scenery, their poses, their expressions, the quote?! Ahhh all of it! Nen's art is so soft and special and gives me all the feels and this one is no exception.

BTS of RO Inspired by @art-question-mark

I have always loved the picture this piece is based off of. In my head, it is happy Jyn and Cass. In my head, it is canon. Natalie's style is so beautiful and I love some of the quotes Natalie pulls from the Rogue One novel to go with the art!

Pretty Cute by @muguathepapaya

This piece is super cute and exactly what they deserved. I'm obsessed. Gives me all the warm and fuzzies. Sunshine on a rainy day, so gorgeous.

Time to Wake Up by @eegnm

Okay are you noticing the theme yet? I love seeing these two happy, and this scene in particular is just so...warm. I love the cuddly vibes, their expressions, all of it. You can feel the love in it.

losers by @necr0mancers

I am obsessed with the look they are exchanging. Very conspiratorial and so true to them. I also just love the style of this artists' works and the sense of humor woven through many of their pieces.

Elevator Scene by @satmolly

Nope I actually do not have words for this one. I think it says enough. (This happened, and it happened just like this and it is so very beautiful).

Favorite Scene (beach) by @dramaticmusicplaying

Another one that leaves me speechless. (Okay, they ALL do I feel like I am not doing these artists justice I'M SORRY). I just think this piece captures the beach perfectly and I love the style and all the colors and I kinda need to cry after looking at it okay?!

Jyn/Cassian Smooch by @barrikae

I am totally obsessed with this artist's style and this image in particular is just: ahhhhh! You know? Like look at themmmmm. Thank you for this barrikae.

Space Travel by @freebooter4ever

Your honor, they are holding hands and they are so very sleepy and I am so very in love with this piece. I love the artist's style and again, amazing scene set. Lives rent free in my mind.

Tagging creators for this one vs specific sets (cause you CANNOT make me choose honestly) and linking this post I wrote awhile back about how incredible I think you all are! (As in: I specifically had RC creators in mind when I wrote that post.)

*This is the list I am most nervous about cause I am almost certain I am forgetting people so if you see this and you make gifs for RC please know I love you and your work <3

@bartowskis

@staticwaffles

@jyndor

@andorerso

@jemmasimmons

@sydneyadmu

@garethsedwards

@gizkalord

@kalikoris

@dailyrebelcaptain

@therebelcaptainnetwork

[just-a-creep-babe]

A Demon’s Ache — Part 2

Eyeless Jack x Reader (NSFW)

Part 1

Commissioned by @cookiereblogss tysm darling, I really appreciate the support <333

I've given it a title so therefore, I have officially made it a ✨thing✨ The outline has 6 parts rn, but I'm far from done~

AND once I finish Dirty Little Secret on my patreon, I'm thinking I'll rewrite this series but in like,, the reader's POV. So anyways, all that to say I've very much been enjoying this and I'm excited to keep it going uwu 💕💞💓

I've also been having some formatting issues on this one, for some reason?? I tried fixing it up but please lmk if there's anything off AND lmk if you enjoyed <3

Requests are closed but commissions are open!

Join my Patreon if you’d like to support me <3

Masterlist: x

It comes as no surprise when he ends up in bed, hard dick in his hand, thinking of you for the god-knows-how-many-th time

Try as he might to fervently rut into his clenched fist, he knows no feeling would ever compare to you bouncing on his cock instead

The taste of you on his tongue had dissipated much too quickly, but that doesn’t stop him from desperately trying to reimagine your arousal on his lips

He grunts, his hips grinding up, cock tensing and twitching in his hold

It’s torturous

He needs you

Precum beads up at his tip, and all he can think about is the way you’d lap it up with your tongue

Friends

Every time he imagines all the ways he could fuck you senseless, the word friends interrupts his fantasy

Really, he knows what he’s doing is wrong

He shouldn’t be having such depraved thoughts about someone who doesn’t want anything to do with him beyond friendship

But he can’t help it

You drive him wild

The sounds of your pretty little moans and whimpers are stuck on repeat in his head

The way your body writhed in his touch, the way your perfectly wet cunt tightened around his tongue—everything about you gets him drunk with lust

His room feels unbearably hot

Try as he might to relieve the throbbing ache of his stiff cock, it’s no use

He can’t be satisfied without you

And he realizes, fuck, you’ve triggered a heat

The next few days are absolute hell

He’s on and off his heat

Every time it’s on the cusp of dissipating, his thoughts scramble back to you, and it starts all over again

He waits at least a week before leaving his room—just to be sure seeing you won’t jeopardize anything

And it’s only a day or two after he leaves his room that he runs into you again

It’s an early morning, with pale sunlight streaming through the kitchen windows

You’re at the table, sipping on a coffee, and a few other creeps are scattered about the dining room and kitchen

He doesn’t know whether he should be irritated or grateful that there are other people around

Probably the latter, considering he wouldn’t know how to act if it was just the two of you

But it’s hard to feel grateful when Jeff decides to take a seat right next to you

And god, does he ever hate the way that guy looks at you sometimes

He debates staying or going as he makes his coffee

Staying might aggravate him if he notices Jeff trying to pull any moves on you

But on the other hand, leaving might risk something developing between you and Jeff

The more he can interfere between you and other potential suitors, the better

He can’t let anyone else have you

So even though he’s, admittedly, being childish when he takes the other open spot next to you, he tries to play it off like it’s nothing

Like he hasn’t been jerking off to the thought of you for the past week

You don’t seem to notice, but Jack doesn’t miss the way Jeff glares at him when he sits

Try me, Jack wants to say

Jeff huffs out a breath when he realizes the hybrid won’t back off

And the sheer audacity of that guy—thinking he can just waltz up to you and have you all to himself—it unlocks something primal within Jack

“What’s wrong?”

Your voice, as angelic as ever, suddenly breaks the mounting tension in the room

Jack feels like a filthy perv when the first thing that comes to mind is all those pretty sounds you made when you came against his mouth

He just wants to fuck more of those precious sounds out of you

Deep breaths, deep breaths

“What? What do you mean what’s wrong?” Jeff answers your question with his own, trying to act dumb

And thankfully, the grating sound of his voice is enough to snap Jack out of his fantasy

“Why do you look so aggravated all of a sudden?” you ask, your tone lighthearted and joking as you sip your coffee

“Yeah, Jeff, is something wrong?”

Jack tries to keep his voice as genuine as possible when he backs you up, but he knows Jeff is fully aware of the cocky grin he’s wearing beneath his mask

And he has to suppress a snicker when the guy glowers at him

“Just… life,” Jeff haphazardly grumbles, not wanting to admit Jack’s ruined the alone time he wanted with you

A cruel joke comes to the demon’s mind

It’s dumb and immature, and he knows he shouldn’t say it, but he wants to say it

So, he does

“Oh,” he hums, “is it that problem you’ve mentioned to me before?”

Jeff’s eyes meet his, brow arching

“What problem?” he asks, taking the bait

“You know,” Jack continues, trying to act as natural as possible, “that issue you’ve been having. I told you, you might need to change your diet. More fiber would help you become more regular…”

His chest practically swells with pride when you snort out a laugh

“Oh my god, is that what it is?”

You burst out laughing even harder at the expression on Jeff’s face

“The fuck!? That’s not even true! Why would you say that—what the fuck is your problem, man?!”

He can try to say whatever he wants, but it’s no use; he knows Jack’s gotten the best of him

With an angry snort, he stands

“Whatever, I’m over this,” he growls

And just like that, he walks away, leaving you and a very self-satisfied Jack alone at the table

He finally has you all to himself

Well, minus the creeps coming in and out for coffee and breakfast

But at least none of them seem particularly interested in you

Not in the way Jeff seemed to be, anyways

“Christ, he’s so dramatic,” you chuckle, shaking your head with a smile on your lips

There are suddenly butterflies in Jack’s stomach

God, you’re so fucking cute

“Was that even true?”

You look at him when you ask the question, and he almost forgets how to breathe for a minute

He shrugs, hoping you don’t notice the effect you have on him

“If he’s constipated? I mean, I don’t know if I should say anything about it. Seems like he’s embarrassed about it…”

You shake your head with a snicker

He wants to kiss you

Fuck, he really, really wants to kiss you right now

Crash his lips into yours until he’s all you can think about

He wants to wrap your legs around him, slam your back against the table and make out with you until you’re a pretty little dazed mess beneath him

Blood rushes to his junk

He shifts in place, trying to ignore it

Friends

As unwanted as ever, he’s reminded of that fucking word again

But even despite it, he isn’t entirely sure where the two of you stand

Hell—he’s more uncertain than ever

Did you really want to forget that whole thing happened in the first place?

Go about things like normal—as if he hadn’t buried his face between your thighs?

As if you hadn’t pulled his hair and whimpered his name when you came against his lips?

He takes a sip of his coffee in a vain attempt to distract himself

But it’s hard to think straight when his dick keeps throbbing for attention

He quietly clears his throats, as if that could help anything, and he shifts in place again, subtly trying to readjust himself in his grey sweats

It’s only when his knuckles accidentally graze your bare thigh, only when he hears your quiet little gasp, that he freezes in place

The sound was barely audible, but he knows what he heard

He glances down, and he almost groans out loud when he notices what you’re wearing

It’s those same fucking shorts

He’s at a loss for what to do

The both of you are in the middle of the kitchen dining room—for fuck’s sake, he shouldn’t be having half the thoughts he’s having right now

But even then, he can’t bring himself to pull his hand away from your thigh

The minimal amount of skin-on-skin contact is making his head spin

He needs more

He’s never felt so insatiable

He knows he shouldn’t, but he can’t resist stroking at your leg

The motion is slow, soft, calculated, so that he can enjoy every inch of your perfect skin

Neither of you move as he gently traces over your thigh with the back of his knuckles

His chest is pounding

He can hear your heart beating, your breath hitching in your throat whenever he gets closer to the edges of your shorts

He wants you

God, does he ever want you

That pesky word keeps coming to mind again, but he forces himself to forget about it

For now—at the very least

You don’t make a move to stop him

You almost seem to welcome his touch

But that uncertainty is still there

Which is why he takes things unbearably slowly when he moves his hand between your legs to grasp at the flesh of your inner thighs

You make what sounds like a quiet whimper

And the sound goes right to his cock

As if a whole week of jerking off to you wasn’t enough

Inch by inch, his touch dances further up along your thigh

And though it’s subtle, he can’t not notice the way you part your legs just the slightest bit more for him

You’re giving him permission to touch you—right here, right now—of all places?

He breathes in, and when he gets a whiff of your scent, he decides fuck it, there’s no way he can let this opportunity slip him by

So under the cover of the table, even despite the few creeps still lingering about, he pushes past the material of your shorts to access your sex

You’re wet

You’re already turned on for him—he can feel it through your underwear

Screw anyone around to see, he wants to bend you over this table right now and fuck his cum inside you

He wants to breed you and mark you and make sure everyone knows by the sounds of your screams that you’re all fucking his

He strokes your slit up and down through your panties, and he adores the way it has you squirming in place

Fuck, you’re so cute

He wants to ruin you

But he also wants to enjoy every second of this

So he takes his sweet, sweet time running his fingers along your covered sex until he can feel you getting wetter and wetter

It isn’t long for you to thoroughly soak through your panties

And all he wants is to taste you all over again

He swallows down a growl at the thought

His body’s burning for yours

You keep squirming and quietly gasping as he teases you

And he’s so entranced by you, he nearly forgets you’re in an open room

All he can focus on is the way your body’s reacting to him

Whatever delicate threads of control he’s still grasping onto feel like they’re slipping from his hold

When you whine his name out, so cute and desperate and needy for him, it’s all the approval he needs

He pushes your underwear to the side and runs his fingers up and down your slit

The way your arousal gathers on the pads of his fingers almost makes him lose it

He just wants to pull you into his lap and fuck up into you until you’re gushing around his cock

But somehow, he manages to hold himself back

He teases at your clit very, very briefly, before then slowly sinking two digits into your opening

His chest rumbles with an involuntary groan as he immediately feels you clench around him

You bite back a moan, but he can still hear the way you sigh at the feeling

You’re so wet, so perfectly tight around him

He imagines how good you’d feel wrapped around his dick

You shift in place, breathing his name out in a shaky moan, and it’s a miracle he still has the self-control to not screw your brains out yet

He’s about to suggest taking things to your room when Hoodie walks in and locks eyes with you

If Jack were any more coherent beyond his lust, he’d probably pull his hand out of your pants

But he’s beyond giving a shit at this point

The proxy pauses, almost curiously, and instead of going for the fridge or pantry, or wherever he was going to go, he makes his way towards you

Jack feels you stiffen

You clench around his fingers, your breathing uneven

He knows he should stop

But he’s not done enjoying the warmth of your tight cunt fluttering around him

And so what if Hoodie notices?

At least then, he’d know who you belong to

The demon is entirely aware he’s being selfish

But he can’t bring himself to care

He’s too far gone

So even as he watches Hoodie greet you, even as he watches you, dazed and horny and sex-drunk off his fingers, struggling to greet the proxy normally, he doesn’t pull away

Let him know

Let him know who you’re allowing to do such depraved things to you

“(Y/n), you missed our training session this morning,” Hoodie says, and a bout of anger flares up in Jack’s chest

Oh how he loathes the thought of another man getting physical with you

It makes him curl his fingers inside you to reach right up against a spot that has you cinching around him

You squeeze your eyes shut, biting your lip briefly before you can recover

“Y-yeah, uhm, sorry about that”

Your voice is shaky, your face visibly flushed

But you haven’t even tried to stop Jack yet

You want this as much as he does

“I, ah, I meant to let you know, but I—I forgot… to mention it”

In and out, the hybrid painstakingly slowly pumps his fingers inside your velvety walls as you try to talk normally

He flattens his palm against your clit, and your hips buck against his touch, which you quickly try to pass off as shifting in your seat

“Hm, that’s alright,” the proxy hums, then tilts his head curiously. “Is it because you weren’t feeling well? You look kind of… off”

Jack stiffens as the man reaches out to press his hand against your cheek

It’s just to check if you’re feverish, the logical part of him knows that, but the irrational part of him despises that he’s just laid a finger on you

A warning growl emanates out of his chest—low enough that it seems to slip Hoodie’s attention, but loud enough that you seem to notice it

You’re his—what’s not to fucking understand?

“Y-yeah, I’m fine. Just… ah, j-just didn’t sleep too well—“

Something like a choked moan evades you again, and you have to pretend to cough to avoid suspicion

Jack grinds his hand against your clit, and your whole body reacts to his touch

“S’alright,” the demon hums, and he briefly wonders if Hoodie notices the unusually husky timber of his voice when he does, “she might have the flu, but I’m checking up on it. She should be fine, nothing serious”

You squirm, and he teases at your sweet spot again, the calloused pads of his fingers rubbing right where you need it most

You can’t look Hoodie in the eyes as your thighs start trembling

Your hand looks unsteady as you bring the coffee to your lips, but you manage to drink it down without spilling anything

The proxy glances between you and Jack, and Jack wonders if he’s caught on yet

Either way, if he has, he doesn’t show it

“Well, alright, I hope you feel better soon. Let me know when you want to train next time”

You nod, humming to hide another whimper as Jack’s fingers don’t relent

And then finally, finally, Hoodie leaves

As soon as he’s out of earshot, Jack crams his fingers into your inviting heat in a slew of rough thrusts

You gasp, almost moaning out very loudly before you manage to cover your mouth to muffle it

It doesn’t take long for you to cum around his digits

And god, you’re breath-taking as you do so

Your back arches, body tensing as your teeth bite down hard into your lips to prevent a scream from escaping

How he wishes those were his teeth biting into you instead

And just like that first time he made you cum, he can’t seem to bring himself to stop

It’s only when you’re shaking from the overstimulation, only when you reach out to pull his hand away, that he finally relents

His fingers are dripping with your arousal

He knows he shouldn’t, but he can’t resist bringing them up to his mouth to taste you off his digits

And fuck, you taste just as good as you did the first time

You’re panting, chest heaving, a perfectly unfocused look in your eyes

He wants to pick you up, take you to the nearest bedroom and fuck you stupid

Friends, fuck-buddies, potential partners—he doesn’t know where the two of you stand

But at this point, labels don’t matter, he thinks, not really, anyways

He’s not letting anything come between the two of you

You're his

[teez-the-time]

dear may, i had to stop reading your san warrior fic a few times because my eyes are just filled with tears. 😭💕

excuse my wordings as i am not a writer but more so of a reader instead but your whole writing was done in such a wonderful way that i was left speechless and of course, in tears once again.

sannie written as such hopeless romantic and absolutely brave warrior is so accurately depicted that i truly believe he definitely can be one in his past life! 🙈

i guess as i am typing this, i just want to thank you so much for this brilliant piece of art that you decided to share with us here. 💖

hope this is just the first of many from you! 🥹

- ✨anon

MY. HEART. STOP.

No but, ever since I posted "Choi San, Wolf Warrior" I've received so many heartwarming messages and reviews that I literally had to sit down. You really have no idea how much a little support means to someone who never expected any kind of reaction from others. While I planned to continue posting my stories even if no one saw them, these kind of messages encourage me to keep exploring my potential.

I was SUPER nervous when I posted the story. For a moment, I even thought of deleting it and never having it see the light of day. I'm glad I didn't. I also contemplated making a second part, but ultimately decided to leave it as it is and not wear off the magic. Nevertheless, seeing that you like it so much...I present you a little story of Y/N and San before the big events of the story.

Lastly, dear anon: I obviously don't know you, but thank you for that beautiful message. Keep supporting ATINY authors with your sweet words, since many will appreciate them.

XOXO -May

Pairing: Warrior! San x Chief's daughter! Fem! Reader

Genre: fantasy, action, romance

Warnings: some cursing and metions of sex, but nothing explicit, Y/N and San are both whipped pt. 2.

Wc: 1.8k

Taglist: @darkdayelixer

You could barely see the ground in front of you as you walked through one of the furthest parts of the village in the middle of the night. It was way past the usual time you would have been home asleep, but one of your friends had come to you begging for your help. Apparently, San had come back with the other young men of the village from a successful hunt and was celebrating with some of your friends.

The problem?

Choi San, the fearless warrior, had lost to alcohol and now refused to stop drinking despite being pretty drunk. Seeing that no one was able to make him desist on his attempt to become a rum barrel, your friends resorted to an infallible plan: getting you to take him home.

That’s why you now found yourself walking on a dark path, alone, cursing his name to all the gods above.

May god curse that lightweight idiot, you thought to yourself.

You heard the laughter before you saw anyone. Partially hidden by a dense patch of trees and bushes, the young people of your village used the clearing as a meeting spot for this type of gathering. Consumed by your duties as the chief’s daughter, you had to excuse yourself from attending the party with your friends.

Well, I guess not anymore.

Your friends were scattered around the place. The majority stood in groups in different parts of a small clearing, others sat down on stools. A small group sat on the floor, listening to one of the boys play a guitar. At last, you saw San sitting with some mutual friends around a small wooden table. He couldn’t see you, as his back faced you (but you could recognize his blushed ears anywhere), and nobody seemed to have noticed your presence so far. You walked towards him, trying to be as silent as possible in case someone saw you. It’s not like you didn’t like this type of gathering, but it was pretty late and you had to get San back to his house and then go back to yours. You couldn’t stay for much.

As you approached the group, you could hear San talking, and from your friends’ expressions, he was talking nonsense.

“I am telling you,” he was insistent, but the slur of his words wasn’t very convincing, “no one can compare. Fucking impossible. I witness it with my two eyes every single day. The standards are so high it’s fucking ridiculous”.

You wondered what the hell he was talking about, but as you got closer, you caught your friend Wooyoung’s eyes. He showed you his mischievous smile before turning back to his drunk friend.

“Sanie, but what the hell are you talking about?” he asked San, who made an exasperated gesture.

“Are you dumb or deaf, Jung Wooyoung?” San sloppily motioned for his friends to listen carefully. “I’ll repeat it one more time ‘cause apparently y’all have been hit in the head enough times to become stupid. Y/N is the most perfect human being to ever exist”.

Your eyes widened, and the people that had noticed you started laughing. San didn’t like that. “What the fuck are you laughing at? Listen to me. Liiiisten. Wait, I got dizzy. Okay, I’m good again. So, listen to me”.

“Y/N is literally sooooo perfect sometimes it gets ridiculous. Like, she is so beautiful it doesn’t make sense. None at all. And it’s all the time. Not once in her life has she ever been ugly. No, wait. One time, when we were eleven, she slipped on sheep shit and got covered in it. She smelt horrible and cried like a baby. But now that I think about it, she looked so cute even though she was embarrassed. Goddammit!”

He covered his face, as he couldn’t bear the flutter of his heart. San dragged his hands through his cheeks and continued talking. “And that’s, like, just from the outside. From the inside, she is sooooo smart. Way too smart for her good actually. Hongjoong hyung, you are clever, but you look dumb compared to her. Sometimes, I feel like I’m too stupid to be with her.” He interrupted his speech with a gasp of horror. “Oh my god! What if she leaves me for someone more intelligent?”

His friend, Seonghwa, swatted his arm. “Yah, Sanie! Don’t even think about that!”

San downed the whole mug of beer he had been holding despite everyone’s protests. “But I’m right! She’s so much fucking better than me. She’s beautiful, smart, kind, responsible, and everyone loves her! Hell, I think my parents like her more than me. I mean, I don’t know, but I don’t blame them. Oh, and there’s nothing she can’t do. I’m not joking. She knows medicine, she helps her dad, and she even cooks. Her kimchi, hyung!”. He let out a hiccup and a sniff. “Wait, what was I talking about? Oh right, Y/N. Yes! She’s even good at sex-”

That was your cue to stop his drunk rambles. “Woah, woah. Time for me to stop this party for you, sir.”

San didn’t pay you attention and kept rambling. “Oh no, I promised her that I wouldn’t talk about her like that. Forget the last part. I didn’t say shit about sex. It’s just…it’s just…I haven’t seen her since we left and I miss her sooooo much”. He stopped, his eyes widening. “Gods, I think I even heard her voice just now”.

If your friends weren’t laughing at San’s drunken antics before, they certainly were now. You put your hand on his shoulder. “Sanie, I’m here. It’s time to go home”.

San looked at you as if he had seen a ghost. “Oh my gods! I’m starting to hallucinate”.

In any other circumstance, you would’ve been rolling on the floor with laughter, but you were getting more and more frustrated with him. “San. You are drunk. Time to come home”.

“No!” he refused, holding the empty mug to his chest and pouting, “I won’t follow a fake Y/N. Get out, you impostor!”

You pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration. “Sanie, I’m not a fake. It’s me Y/N. I came here to take you home”.

San narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “Hmm, I still don’t believe you. Tell me something only the real Y/N would know!”

Surprisingly, it wasn’t the first time he had pulled something similar. You sighed and answered his demand. “Your name is San and your family name is Choi”.

With that simple answer, his entire face lit up. He grinned from ear to ear and grabbed your hand. “You are my Y/N! Why didn’t you say so earlier?”

You had to fight the urge to knock his teeth out, as it would be too bothersome to explain to his parents how his son lost them. “Yes, I am Y/N. Come with me”.

You didn’t have to repeat yourself. Without letting go of your hand, he grabbed the few things he had brought with him and stood up from his seat. His smile was unwavering. “Let’s go home, darling. It’s way too late for you to be out!”

Drunk San was more ridiculous than normal San, so you made no effort to point his logic out. You just slung his arm over your shoulders to help him walk and said goodbye to your friends (who weren’t also totally hammered and didn’t make some colourful suggestions about home activities).

Even if you were annoyed by how drunk San was, you had to admit he was pretty funny when he was in this state. It wasn’t usual for him to drink this much, or at all, which was something you would have to inquire later. But, for now, you enjoyed the nonsense he was humming and muttering. The warmth of his body comforted you in the middle of the night chill.

“My love,” he called out to you. Lately, he seemed more comfortable calling you that in more public settings. “My love, Y/N. I have to admit something”.

“What is it, Sanie?” you inquired.

“I am drunk,” he said dead-seriously, “like super drunk. I don’t know why I drank so much. I am sorry”.

You held back a laugh, hearing how upset he sounded by the end of the sentence. “It’s okay, Sanie. You don’t have to apologise. I’m not mad.”

“Are you sure?” he asked and you repeated your answer. “You’re literally the best ever. I was gonna say best friend, but you aren’t my best friend anymore”.

“Oh?” you played along, knowing there was something he wanted to say, “then who is your best friend now? Wooyoungie? Yeosangie?”

San shook his head energetically. “Nop. They can’t compare to you. You are my best friend, but, like, you aren’t my friend. I don’t like any words for you. You…you are…my love. My Y/N”.

In the middle of that night, on the road you both took together to go home, you choked at San’s confession. You were always impressed at how he wore his heart on his sleeve, never afraid of judgment or rejection. You, on the other hand, were more reluctant to let others in, your guard having been broken by only a few; one of which you carried on your shoulders at this very moment. 

“Me too…” you said barely above a whisper, “I can’t find a word for you, my love…”

For a few moments, neither of you said a word, letting the silence speak for yourselves. You could feel he was regaining sobriety, although a throbbing headache would be waiting for him in the morning. His house stood at the end of the road, and yours wasn't too far away. It was time to say your goodbyes for the night, but you were already planning on stopping by again to leave him some medicine.

"Y'know, we're already twenty," San stated the obvious once again, "we only have to wait two more years".

You didn't dare to say anything. You both arrived at his door, and San removed his arm from your shoulders, but he didn't let go of you. Instead, he placed a hand on the small of your back and pulled you closer to him. His other hand found nest on your cheek. From that distance, you could see speckles of moonlight in his eyes, who looked at you with intensity.

"Gods, I can't wait for those two years," he whispered before capturing your lips with his. You reciprocated the kiss, tangling your hands on the hair of his nape. It tasted like alcohol but, somehow, San made it sweeter.

It was perfect, just like him.

You broke away for air, but it wasn't enough for San. He pecked your lips twice more before removing himself from you. You helped him open the door to his home, as he still struggled with basic coordination. He turned around to look at you for one last time, placing a kiss on your forehead.

"I love you~," he grinned and waved at you excitedly as he closed the door slowly. San's figure disappeared from your sight, but you heard a couple of stumbles and curses from the inside.

You smiled to yourself.

I can't wait either.

[gennemi]

Muzan with fem! reader who likes to cross dress? i think it would be cute since they can both wear suits & be twins, and he can teach her how to do things, like how to properly do ties!

𝑴𝒖𝒛𝒂𝒏 𝑲𝒊𝒃𝒖𝒕𝒔𝒖𝒋𝒊 𝒙 𝑪𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒔 𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒓 𝑭𝒆𝒎! 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

A/N: sorry about this being late! Was figuring out how to write this out! While also working on other works! I hope you enjoy this lovely! ❤ thanks for asking this! I enjoyed writing it! ❤✨

Warnings: nothing, just Pure fluff, soft Muzan, a little bit OOC Muzan.

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

When she first admitted to Muzan that she enjoyed cross dress, he didn’t think much of it. To him whatever makes her happy, makes him happy. Until one day she came up to him. “Dear? Can you help me tie this?” She asked, causing him to look up from his task. His eyes widened there she stood in a suit that matches his, struggling to tie the tie. He was utterly speechless, she looked breathtaking. He then shook his head out of his thoughts, before standing up to help her with the tie. Giving her a small kiss after. “You look absolutely breathtaking darling.” He smirked.

As the days went on, she continued to cross dress, making herself look like him. He felt a swell of pride, and love in his heart. He would everyday compliment her, and help her with certain tasks. Even teaching her how to tie a tie. But regardless of him doing so, she still came to him for help, enjoying him doing said task for her. Made her feel closer to him. He found it very amusing.

He looked up from a task he was doing, to see her bounding up to him. He knew exactly what she wanted before even asking.” Darling, I've taught you so many times how to do this.” He mused, looking at her softly. “I just love when you tie it.” She spoke sheepishly, making his eyes go even softer. “And that's okay dear. Now come here.” He mused softly, and she approached him. He then proceeded to start to help her tie the tie. He won’t lie, but won’t admit it out loud but he enjoyed doing this. After he was done, he did what he usually did, give her a light kiss, and the usual compliment. And everyday after that would be the usual. She would ask him to help her (him knowing before she even asked), he would help her, then give her a small kiss, and a compliment. Just to see her smile.

Because it was always worth seeing that beautiful smile

[tarotbrina]

What would Lee Know be like as a boyfriend?

Disclaimer I'm doing this for fun and entertainment, nothing I say is the absolute truth, I'm just speaking from astrology, obviously I don't really know him. Warning, this is the first time I've done this. Okay, time to be delulus✨

f you are not a person who likes animals or his people don't like you, you have no chance with him. With so much scorpio in his chart if you were to like him you would never find out unless he tells you because he is quite secretive.

He may think he is being super obvious but he is not. Many times he would only declare himself if he sees that your connection is in danger, like he finds out that someone likes you or you start to like someone else.

He wants a person he can trust and tell his things to, someone who is sure of himself and is not so dependent although he himself can sin by obsessing over you and the relationship. As we well know, the act of service is, if you need something without asking for it.

Well, to start with we have the Sun in Scorpio and Venus in Scorpio, it is a very sexual and dominant sign. Lee knows without a doubt that she likes to dominate her partner and the art of sensuality and mystery.

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