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c0llisiion · 5 months

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NEED TO KNOW — j.jk

★Pairing: jeon jungkook + f!reader

★genre: smut

★: older!jk, dads bestfriend!jk , oral (giving and receiving ) , unprotected sex , reader has a crush on jk, bachelor!jk, big dick jk, size kink kinda, hair pulling, gagging, slapping, pervert jk , dry humping , anal play , degradation, name calling, nicknames - lmk if i missed any!

★W/C: 4,395

A/N: remember that time I mentioned a jk fic that i was writing? This is that fic. Literally put this on hold for 2 months and finished writing it last night 😭 anyways enjoy!!

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ MDNI. Please refrain from reading if the topics make you uncomfortable. ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

“But i dont wannnnaaaaa goooooo!..” you whined as you declined your dad’s offer to go to his big company party. “Sweetheart this is a huge deal for me …” your dad countered. “… more over, mr.jeon is going to be there ..!” Your ears perked up at the mention of Mr. Jeon. The tall, tatted bachelor with his piercings and built body, who has been your dad’s best friend since his college days.

Since you were a teenager, you have had the biggest crush on him. He was perfect in every way. He was older. More wiser. Handsome. Just your type. The initial infatuation was small, but as you grew into your adult years, it grew stronger.

You were starting to dream about him. Not even the usual kind. Wet dreams.

He grew older like fine wine. Body covered in beautiful art. Built like an actual Greek god.

Surprisingly, he was not yet married, even though he was well off in his late 40s. He used to say 'no woman has ever caught my attention' when someone mentioned him still being single at his age—from what you've heard.

Your dad and him, being business partners, frequently bring him to your home. Always hanging out at the bar or in your dad’s study. You capitalized on these small visits and began attempting to attract his attention. Whenever he came over, you started hanging out at the bar. Offering to make him special drinks. Talking about his interests , which you found out through intense stalking just to impress him. wearing revealing clothes, buying him his favorite food and snacks whenever you visit his office to pick up something for your father. You got very close to him. Your obsession with him became stronger because he seemed so nonchalant about your little tactics. The worst thing you have ever done was hire someone to break off one of his relationships. Only you were meant for him. No one else.

Hearing your father say that he would be there was another opportunity to impress him. You shot up. “WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY THIS BEFORE???” You say as you rummage into your closet for the perfect dress. Your father believed that your attraction to Jungkook was innocent and similar to that of a child. You had always said you hated the smell of alcohol, so he thought it was strange for you to start hanging out at the bar. Despite noticing many changes, he dismissed them as 'innocence', so he expected you to join him if he mentioned Jungkook. He left your room with a satisfied smile on his lips. You finally found the dress. A satin spaghetti strap dress in black, his favorite color, with a dangerously low open back. The dress was revealing when you put it on; the side of your boob was peeking out, but it hugged your curves perfectly. As the time got closer, you finished up spraying on your most expensive perfume, taking a final look at yourself before leaving.

The party was classy. A huge venue with what appeared to be millions of waiters with champagne. Upon entering the venue with your family, your eyes immediately searched for Jungkook. It wasn't long before you spotted him in the middle of a small group. He seemed to notice your family and hurried towards all of you without delay. As he got closer, your heart was beating fast. “Hey hey! My man!” He said taking your dad into a tight hug. “You could have come a bit more later!” He said sarcastically, taking a jab at your dad’s late-coming habit. “Don't blame me! This one took too long!” Your dad exclaimed, hugging you by your side. Jungkook’s eyes landed on you. He stared you down. Taking in each and every curve, his eyes eventually landed on your chest before he looked at your face and smiled. “So glad you came! You look gorgeous tonight.” He said, taking in your hand and kissing the back of your palm slowly, in a sensual way, while deeply staring into your eyes. He pulled away and rubbed the skin with his thumb before giving you a smirk. You felt your insides melt and your brain malfunction at his simple gesture. You were frozen in place and didn’t know what to do. You shyly backed away and looked down , trying to hide your wide smile with your bangs, which Jungkook took notes on.

Time flew by as you watched Jungkook speak in front of the huge crowd with charisma and confidence. One of his best traits. He always caught everyone’s attention with his choice of words and tone. It was embarrassing for you to admit that, but it turned you on. Your legs were crossed, rubbing your thighs together from time to time, and no one seemed to notice, except for Jungkook, of course. He eyed you every time you made a small movement.

All the speeches and boring talks concluded, which made you run out onto the balcony for some fresh air. You stared off into the distance, thinking about what Jungkook had done to you earlier. Was it platonic? Was he just being nice? Does he have feeli- “did all those old men bore you out?” Jungkook was behind you. His voice husky. His lip and eyebrow piercing, shining under the moonlight. You were caught off guard and turned around to see ‘your man', “mr.jeon! Ugh you scared me!” You said dramatically, placing a hand on your chest. He gets closer with a charming smile on his face and hands in his pockets. “My apologies. I didn't mean to scare you!” He let out a soft chuckle. “How is your night going?” He asked you. “Hm? Oh good i guess, it’s kinda boring, but i would do anything for my father..” He chuckled and gave you a side eye. “For your father? Really?” it seemed like he knew the real reason why you were here in the first place. “Wdym really? I love my dad!” You said in a playful, offended tone. He chuckled once again. “Fine fine! I know how much you adore him.” You sighed softly and smiled.

“I like that dress on you. It suits you a lot.” He said while eyeing you. You blushed at his compliment, looking down and fiddling with your acrylic nails. “Thank you..” you mumbled under your breath. You feel him getting closer to you. “Sorry? I didn’t hear you, sweetheart.” His hands were on your hips, squeezing them softly. You froze in place. Heart beating faster. Your legs threatening to fall. His hands creeped towards your ass. Groping it softly, not wanting to seem too pushy. “Mr.jeon…-“ you let out a shaky whimper at his touch. “It’s jungkook for you, doll.” He said leaning in closer to your ears. He took a huge sniff of your neck and hair. “Thierry mugler alien eau de parfum? You have good taste.” He said while softly chuckling in your ears before pulling away. He lifted your chin so you can look at him. Your eyebrows were slightly furrowed as you stared into his intoxicating eyes. “What did you want to say earlier?” You gulped before speaking up. “Thank you… jungkook.” He smiled at you before placing a kiss on your forehead. His hands went under your ears, caressing the soft skin gently. Your eyes widened, and you just stood there. “I’ll see you around okay?” He said smiling before he left. You were standing put, like a statue, your limbs refusing to move.

A few days went by, and you were still processing whatever happened with jungkook that night. His kiss. The way his hands caressed your body. His little nicknames. It was just too much to process. You didn’t see or hear much from jungkook since that day. There were small interactions, but he seemed to ignore you each time. You were starting to get worried. What happened? What did you do wrong? Did you fuck up? Does he hate you?. You never stopped overthinking.

One morning, you heard the familiar voice of Jungkook from the kitchen, laughing and giggling with your father. You quickly put on your clothes and dolled up, still hoping to impress him, before you went downstairs. “Ah! She’s finally awake! We were just talking about you!” Your father exclaimed. You observed jungkook as he sat on the kitchen island and ate what appeared to be lucky charms. His favorite cereal. He glanced at you briefly before turning away. You felt your heart shatter. After all that he did? Is this the way he treats you? . You walked past him and got yourself a glass of orange juice. “Did you sleepwell princess?” Your father inquired. Jungkook was still not looking at you. His gaze was fixed on the newspaper in front of him. “Yeah yeah i did.” You said putting on a fake smile. “Oh!” Your father exclaimed as he heard his phone ring. “Excuse me.” He said before rushing out of the kitchen.

You glared at jungkook and gulped down your orange juice before dropping the glass onto the table. Jungkook noticed your action, which made him put his newspaper aside and walk towards you. “What’s wrong?” He inquired, leaning onto the island. “Hmph!” You huffed, turning around. He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Come onnn! Tell me.” He said while hugging your waist from the back. You let out a heavy sigh before turning back around. “What did I do wrong? Why do you keep doing this to me?” You asked. “Doing what?” “Are you seriously going to act like you don’t know?” You said folding your arms. Jungkook had a confused look on his face. “You are ignoring me damn it!” “Ohhhhh! About that! I just didn’t have anything to say.” He said shrugging. You rolled your eyes at him. “Admit it, Jungkook, you just want to play with my feelings. You don’t care about me. You never did.” You let it all out. It was weird for you to act like this, but you couldn’t help yourself. Jungkooks eyes darkened, and he stared at you. You gulp. “You think I don’t care about you? Me? Not caring about you? You think i come to your house almost every other day for your father?” He said while pushing you down onto the island. He turned you around and hugged you close to his body; you could feel his clothed hard dick on your pussy. You shudder when he slowly grinds his hips into your behind. “Ya feel that doll? Thats how you got me everyday..” he said whispering into your ears. His free hand found your right tit before he gave it a squeeze. Tugging the thin white fabric of your crop top down to expose your hardened nipple. You hear him darkly chuckle in your ear before giving the sensitive bud a squeeze. His hips never seemed to stop as he continued dry-humping you. You felt yourself involuntarily lowering yourself on the island, pushing your ass back into him for more stimulation. He immediately pulls away, leaving you weak and clenching around absolutely nothing. You whined, turning around to face him with pleading eyes. “What?” He scoffed at how desperate you were. He got closer and fixed your shirt. He didn’t say anything and just rubbed your shoulders down before walking away.

A while later, you were napping in your bedroom. It was not uncommon for you to take naps in between the day since you were basically unemployed and didn’t have much to do, and you also needed one after what happened with jungkook.

All the blinds were shut, leaving the room completely dark. It was silent; the only sound that was heard was the faint noise of the air conditioner. You were in deep sleep and didn’t notice or hear Jungkook entering your room. You felt the bed sink next to you before you felt a cold hand on your hip. His hands, kneading the soft flesh of your ass before it grazed around your desperate cunt. You whine when you feel his fingers touch and draw circles on your sensitive part. “Shh..” he shushed you before pressing onto your pussy. He chuckles at how quickly you got wet. Your mouth was agape, soft grunts escaping every second. He slowly pushed you onto your stomach, climbing on top of you before pulling your pink panties to the side.

It was dark, and he couldn’t see much, but he could feel how soaked you were. He spread your cheeks and lowered his mouth down onto your cunt, sucking on it. Your eyes shot open, heavy breathing as you turned around to see the man of your dreams eat you out from behind. “Ju-jungkook..?” He shut you up by lapping his tongue over your dripping cunt. You let out a loud moan, your head falling sideways, already drooling even though he barely started. He lifted your ass up using his strong hands, making you arch your back. He dropped his head lower and started sucking on your clit, his big nose pressing into your soaking pussy. You grabbed a handful of his hair from behind and pushed him closer. He hummed into your pussy, making you gasp for air. Loud slurping and squelching sounds, along with his groans and your moans, echoed throughout the room. You were seeing stars. The way his mouth ate you out and the feeling of his cold lip ring on your pussy were beyond comprehensible. Your heart started beating faster as you felt your body warm up, and a knot formed in your abdomen. Jungkook took notes on your body language and pulled away. You cried out when you lost contact.

He leaned in and switched on one of your bed lights, finally giving the room some light. He observed your body. Your ass was still up, your pussy glistening with his spit and your arousal. It was clenching and unclenching around nothing. He let out a scoff before turning you around. Your face already looked fucked out. Tears painted your cheeks, and drool was all over your mouth. He hovered over you, placing a hand on the headboard. He used his other hand to wipe your face clean. “We have gotten ourselves a good hour; better make this quick, alright?” You nodded softly and wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling him into a soft and tender kiss. He kissed you back and hugged you closely to his body. His hands went under your tee, squeezing your tit. You whined into the kiss. “You are so sensitive, sweetheart…” he mumbled. You break off the kiss and cup his face. “Jungkook… want more..” He tilted his head to the side and stared at you. He put on a smirk before standing at the foot of the bed.

He took off his pullover, revealing his tatted arms and toned abs and pecs. The soft bed light that was illuminating the room was able to capture every detail of his body. You stare. Hand in between your legs, squeezed shut. You bit your lip softly before your eyes met his. He gestured for you to come closer, which made you crawl to him. Your face was now right in front of his hard dick. You could see the bulge growing. His hand went behind your head, grasping your hair gently. You looked up at him with your doe eyes, which instantly made him fold, but he kept his composure. He gave you a nod, pushing your head closer to his crotch. Your nose nudged the bulge before your greedy fingers hastily unzipped his pants. Your eyes widened when his cock sprung out and hit his stomach. He was big. Girthy. The tip was red, and you could see his precum peaking from the slit. Without wasting time, you took a stripe from the base of his dick until the tip before you sucked on it. He hissed at the feeling of your plump lips sucking on his sensitive tip. He was starting to get impatient and pushed your head down, filling your mouth even though he was only half way in. You looked at him with teary eyes as you choked around his girth. He almost lost it when you looked up at him with those eyes of yours. His other hand caressed your cheek, pushing himself further down your throat. You could feel him. Your jaws were hurting, and you grabbed onto his hips for stability. Your throat spasmed around his cock. He noticed how you were kinda struggling. “Better make me feel good, okay? I want that throat to show me what it got.” With that, he started thrusting into your mouth. You started choking and gagging around his length, which just turned him on even more.

He yanked your head off of his cock. A string of pre cum and saliva connected your lips and his cock head. You looked up at him and whined, wanting his dick to stuff your mouth again. He bent down to your level before licking your chin clean, swallowing the mixture before speaking to you. “On your knees and hands, baby girl." You obliged immediately, taking off your flimsy tee before throwing your ass in the air and arching your back for him. You felt the bed dip behind you, and jungkooks long dick landed on your ass, slowly grinding through the sheer panties.His wet cock making it translucent. You whimpered, already feeling yourself getting hotter. “You are such a dumbslut.” He lowly chuckled.

“You think it wasn’t obvious?” He removed your skirt and ripped your panties. You gasp at his sudden action. “All these skimpy skirts and tops.. and just when I'm around? Were you that desperate, princess ?” He said while pushing his cockhead into your sopping hole.

You let out a loud moan; his tip was enough to stretch you out. “Not gonna lie… i was very flattered” gripping your ass cheeks as he slowly pushed further, letting you adjust to his size. He continued. “I only kept my cool because you were my best friend's daughter, but—holy shit-“ he gets cut off as you clench around his length, tears already dripping down your face. Your mind fogging up. You were constantly letting out soft moans and whimpers as he slowly bottomed down into you. “Woah there-“ he chuckled. “im not even half way in sweetheart” he said while grabbing a handful of your hair and pulling your head back. You looked at him with teary eyes. Lips quivering. He smirked before kissing your cheek. He let go of your hair and pushed your head down into the pillow using his hand. The other hand was on your hip as he finally pushed all the way in. “Since you are begging for it— ” you let out a loud scream as he filled you to the brim.

Although it was painful, the pleasure made you forget about the pain. you felt warm spit fall on your pussy as he starts moving. “Gon’ fuck you silly, alright? Isn’t that what you wanted? Getting dicked down by your father's friend? What a whore…” You nodded incoherently. A loud cry left your lips as his hips thrust into you harshly. His pace was slow, but the way he thrust in was so... Your body was moving forward with every thrust. Sounds of wet skin slapping echoed through your room. You were not able to focus on anything. His pace increased, and so did the harshness of his thrust. You clenched around him, making him fall forward. He caged your tiny body under his larger one. “Fuck babygirl.. you are gonna rip my dick off..” he chuckled. “Jungk-kook… feels too good…” you managed to blabber out as he fucked into you like a madman. “Yeah? you like that? You liked getting fucked by older men, dont you sweatheart?” You whined as his large hands gripped your hair.

This was wrong. Very wrong. This man has seen you grow up. He has been there since you were a baby.

“Let me hear those pretty sounds…” he said while landing a tight slap on your ass, reddening the area almost immediately. You gasped and whimpered, letting out a loud pornographic moan as Jungkook hit a specific spot. His other hand found your swollen clit and started drawing rough circles on it. Pinching and tugging the abused nub. Your legs trembled, and your moans got louder. “F-fuck! Jungkook…don’t s-stop! Feels so good!” You babbled. Jungkooks eyes were focused on your pussy. The way you took in his length. Your milky white cream coated his entire length, collecting at the base of his cock.

He stopped thrusting in you for a moment. You whined as you felt him suddenly stop. Jungkook smirked before leaning over and whispering in your ears. “Fuck yourself on me, doll.” You cried in defeat. Jungkook placed his hands on his hips, waiting for you to start moving. You gulped before slowly rocking your body forward and backward. You could feel his every inch penetrating the insides of your gummy walls. His large tip hitting your cervix over and over again. “Thats all you can do? Wow.. so pathetic..” he scoffed. You shook your head furiously and started going faster. Jungkook let out a satisfied groan as he watched your ass ripple. “Play with that little clit of yours.” He commanded. You reached down in between your legs, finding the sensitive nub almost immediately. You slowly rubbed your clit, sending shivers down your spine. You moaned out as the stimulation of your pussy and clit was getting overwhelming. You fucked yourself faster on his cock. Mouth in a soft ‘o’ shape and eyes crossed as his cock hit your gspot every time you moved in and out. Jungkook was in a different world. His eyebrows were furrowed, and sweat dripped down his neck. He was close to cumming just by seeing you fuck yourself on him.

His hands spread your ass cheeks, before a glob of spit landed on your asshole. You shuddered and panicked, stopping for a moment. “J-jungko-?” “Just focus on fucking yourself; everything is going to be alright…” he reassured you. You nodded before going back. His long fingers toyed with your rim. You grunt when you feel his fingers prod into your asshole. “Shh- shh.. youre safe .. jus’ wan’ try something new..” You gulped and shut your eyes tightly as his fingers ventured further into your asshole. He shoved three of his fingers into you, making you moan out loud. “Fuckkkkk- so tight…” he whispered. You melt and crumble when you feel his fingers move inside of you. You buried your head in your pillow, muffling out any unholy noise.

Your pussy and asshole clenched around his fingers and dick, making him groan. “So damn sensitive… has any guy fucked you, this good princess?” You shake your head. “N-no sir …” Jungkook shot up at the name. His fingers increasing in speed. You let out choked-out moans and cries as his fingers curled inside your asshole. “Say that again, will ya?” His other hand found your hips and started stretching your pussy out again. “Please.. f-fuck me harder… sir.” That was all it took to make Jungkook go feral. His cock left your pussy and was immediately shoved inside your sensitive ass. Your eyes shot out, and you couldn’t make any noise as you looked back at jungkook with tears rolling down your cheeks. He pinned your wrists behind your back before moving in and out. He struggled, initially. curse him for not stretching you out more, but his cream-coated cock provided enough lube for him to start pounding into you smoothly. “Shits so fucking tight- gah-“ your lips quivered and legs trembled as Jungkook fucked into you with great strength.

You screamed out, finally getting your voice back after he fully plunged his cock into you. Your cunt was leaking arousal, dripping down your thighs. Jungkook didnt seem to stop. His heavy, cum-filled balls were slapping against your pussy. “Jungkoook…- its too- too much!” You cried out. “Take it. You are a big girl. Take it like a big girl. I know you fucking can. Look at your little ass sucking me in. So good. So fucking good.” He pulled your body back and pounded into you. Your face was a mess. You cried and moaned like a bitch in heat every time he filled you to the brim. You felt your orgasm approaching as the feeling of the familiar knot in your stomach began growing. “Jung-jungkook- gon’ cum…” you whined. “Go on princess… be a good girl and cum all over me..” you nodded weakly, focusing on reaching your high. Jungkook flipped you over, laying you down on your back. His hands pushed your legs up against your chest. You were in ecstasy as the new position had you seeing stars. You observed Jungkook's sweaty body and fucked-out face.

A slap was landed on your glistening, sopping pussy before two fingers were shoved inside them. His thumb stimulating your clit. “Ngh- oh fuck- jungkook m’ so close…!” Your eyebrows were knit together, and sweat dripped down your face. The overstimulation getting too intense. Both his hips and hands increased their pace, determined to help you reach your high. You saw white as Jungkook pressed down on your sensitive bud. Clear liquid gushed out of your pussy and landed on his abdomen. You screamed as he continued fucking you through your orgasm. “Yeah.. just like that.. so dirty.. you are such a dirty little girl..” Jungkook's movements got sloppier. Your orgasm turned him on by a mile, and he was close to cumming himself. You twitched under him, still not over your intense orgasm, not noticing that he had slipped out of you and was furiously jerking himself off. His head was thrown back, and soft moans left his mouth. His breath hitched when a load of his milky white cum shot out all over your body. Coating your stomach and your boobs. You moan as you feel his hot cum land on your body, taking the mixture in your shaky fingers and licking it off while staring into his eyes. Jungkook smirked at you with half-lidded eyes.

“My dirty little girl."

A/N: HEHE THANK YEWWW 4 READINGGG! how was it tho? This would have been a stepcest fic but i changed my mind in the middle 🙁💔 im currently writing fics from my inbox! You can send in your rqs <3

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angeldreamsoffanfic · 1 year

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“What’s the deal with you and Harrington?”

Robin Buckley glanced up toward the question asker, her brows slightly furrowed as she cast an inquisitive look toward Eddie Munson. He’s leant up on one of his elbows, chin cradled in the palm of his hand. His eyes are on her, large and curious, instead of the usual half-lidded expression he wears during the “adult” hangouts.

They’d all started hanging out ever since Vecna was destroyed, taking time away from the younger members of The Party to spend time all together. Herself, Eddie, Steve, Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle. Sometimes, every once in a while, it led them all to feel normal. As if they hadn’t all been dealing with more Upside Down crap just a few months prior.

“What do you mean?” Robin instead asked, her eyes moving from Eddie’s to dart out toward the Harrington’s pool. Steve is sitting on the edge of it with Jonathan, the two boys heads bent together as Argyle watched on- a dopey almost lovesick expression curled on his mouth. A spliff dangled from Jonathan’s fingertips, rolled by Eddie but the weed supplied by Jonathan.

“You’re… not together.” Eddie’s voice is soft, and barely spoken above a murmur. Robin nodded slowly, and turned her head towards him to try and indicate him to continue. “Nancy and the kids all repeat platonic with a capital P, but I just… how did you and Harrington even happen?”

“Scoops A’hoy,” Robin grinned wide, barely able to stifle the laugh that’s on the backend of her words. She was able to catch the widened look that Eddie threw her way, before his eyes darted out to look towards Steve, before his eyes moved back to her own. “He and I worked there back when the mall was open.”

“And… what? You instantly became best friends?”

“No, actually.” Robin shook her head with another soft laugh, before she paused so she could rub her palms together. She allowed herself to twist one of her rings around her finger, brows pinched for a moment. “I actually thought he was like the worst, y’know?” Robin scoffed to herself, before she sent Eddie a look. She knew what she must look like, her eyes wet with tears and her gaze all permanently soft.

“You know how he was in school, King Steve and all that.” Robin continued on, and she flicked her tongue out of her mouth to wet the corner of her lips for a second. “And when my manager told me that I’d be working with a Steve, well… there was only one Steve in Hawkins I could think of.”

“So how did your opinion of him change then, Buckley?” Eddie cocked his head again, one of his hands coming up to twirl a strand of hair around his pointer finger. His brows were furrowed taut, creating a worry line in between them. “The kids told me about the Russians-”

“It was sort of before then,” Robin admitted with a small shrug, and she twisted the corner of her lip into a shy smile. “He raved to me, y’know? About uh, these kids. These five kids he’d babysit and shit, and it was so… soft?” Robin watched as Eddie mouthed out names to himself as he ticked his fingers, before he cast a look to her. “But he always talked about this one, Ellie, who he’d call his little sister.”

Eddie drew in a sharp breath, eyes wide as Robin let out a soft hum.

“Yeah, and I don’t know if you submitted yourself to Harrington family lore-” Robin gestured behind her toward the Harrington house with a flick of her hand, before she continued. “But I knew that Dick and Helen Harrington didn’t have more than one kid.”

“Supergirl?” Eddie asked softly, and Robin let out a soft confirming hum as she watched Eddie’s eyes dart toward Steve. Steve was still talking to Jonathan, though Argyle had shifted forward so he was able to join in the conversation.

“And then imagine my surprise when one day our stupid sailor ice cream shop is visited by none other than the Chief.” Robin shook her head with a small laugh, before she continued on. “And he was so excited to see Steve, Eddie. Like genuinely excited to see him, ordered a couple tubs of ice cream togo and then said he’d see him at home.”

“Fuck.” Eddie breathed out, and Robin let out another sigh of a laugh.

“And I asked Steve why the Chief of the Hawkins police force was visiting him at work, and Steve just…” Robin shrugged slowly, shaking her head to clear her thoughts before she continued. “He just gave me this look, like… like he didn’t actually know either.”

“Then later, he told me why he watched all of the kids. He told me that he would’ve given anything for someone to just… to just care about him when he was their age. That all he wanted was for just a person to give a shit about his wellbeing.” Robin shook her head again, before she carded a hand through her still chlorine sticky hair. “And after that my opinion just… it just changed about him.”

“Then the Russians?” Eddie asked softly, and Robin hummed as she dipped her chin in a curt nod.

“Then the Russians, and he didn’t… he didn’t even hesitate to take the attention onto himself when they started questioning us.” Robin shook her head again, sniffling. “And after I asked him why he would do that, and he told me it was because he knew I had a family waiting on me to come back home.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, and then afterwards when we were getting seen by the EMTs? He didn’t have anyone to call Eddie. Because Hopper? Hopper was just… just presumed dead.” Robin let out a soft bitter laugh, and she twisted a strand of her hair around her finger. “My parents decided to take us both home after, and he stayed with us for a couple of days- until his concussion was okay enough for him to sleep through the night.”

“And that’s when you became best friends?”

“That’s when I decided that, Steve? He deserved way more from people than he seemed to ever fucking get.” Robin shrugged, before she cast a soft smile toward Eddie. Eddie’s eyes were glassy, wet with tears and Robin just patted her hand soft against his forearm. “That’s when I decided that he was my best friend.”

“Platonic with a capital P?”

Robin cast a look toward Steve, where the older teen already had his eyes on her. He had a hand extended, fingers wiggling toward her in a small way to beckon her toward his side. Robin stood without responding to Eddie, and she left her towel on the lounge chair she’d commandeered as her own. She took a moment though, cast a softer look toward Eddie- even as the corner of her lip twitched into a nervous smile.

“He’s not exactly my type, y’know?” Robin kept her admission soft, even when Eddie’s eyes were quick to flood with confusion. She instead cast a look toward the sunbathing Nancy Wheeler, who had one of her arms strewn over her face across the backyard where she laid in the grass.

When Robin let her eyes move to meet Eddie’s again, he has a look of pure understanding on his face.

“I think I get what you mean.” Eddie murmured and Robin simply flashed Eddie Munson a shy smile.

Eddie Munson watched as Robin Buckley walked away from him, quick to tuck herself into Steve’s side once she reached him. Steve threw his arm around Robin’s shoulders, tucking her further into his grasp- though the flow of conversation that he was having with Argyle and Jonathan didn’t even pause.

It’s in that moment when Eddie Munson realizes something extraordinarily fucking crucial.

He’s in love with Steve fucking Harrington.

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this is gonna become a multipart fic i think btw! it will probably be on here / ao3, haven’t fully decided yet but hope you enjoyed nonetheless!

now with a part two! click here

#angeldreamsoffanfic #steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fanfic #platonic stobin #background jargyle #background ronance #but it’s pre every relationship #steve harrington and robin buckley are bffs #robin would die for steve #steve harrington has bad parents #but jim hopper adopts him because i said so #steve and eleven have a sibling bond #he’s the only one allowed to call her ellie by the way #this is gonna become an ao3 fic i think

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princessofmarvel · 9 months

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Runaway

summary | thomas has made a deal with a man to help his business. thomas’s only condition? to marry the man's daughter. except she doesn’t want to marry him.

pairing | thomas shelby x fem!reader

word count | 1.98k

genre | fluff with some angst?

requested? | yes! i had so much fun writing this! especially since i have never written anything like this before! thank you so much for requesting! please let me know if you like it!

warnings! | arranged marriage? darkish thomas? (not really, i’m just not great at writing dark characters sometimes, lol) not proof read yet!

author’s note! | hey everyone! this main character was written with poc in mind, i have tried my best, but since i am not a person of color please let me know if there is anything i can change to make it better! i hope you enjoy your request! please know that if you have requested something, i promise that i will get to it soon! And as always, I do I have really bad OCD that causes me to write in some random capitalization, and punctuation, But I think that we don't have to worry about that in this fic lol. And let me know if there are any mistakes, but please be kind!

Thomas knew what was happening today, hell his whole family knew. His future bride was coming to birmingham. He struck up a good deal with her father about helping her fathers business about a week ago, then he saw a photo of the man's daughter. The only condition Thomas made? To marry his daughter. Once they agreed, the man said he needed a week to get his family there. By the time they got there, Thomas had already got everything set up to make damn sure the man would be successful in birmingham. Which included a few fights, but Thomas would do it all over again if it meant he could have her.

They weren’t to meet until the wedding, something her father insisted on. So Thomas stood in a room of the church getting ready, when his brother John busted in.

“They can’t find her Tommy” was all John said as he huffed as if he was out of breath.

Thomas’s mind began to race. What did he mean they couldn’t find her? Has something happened? Had one of his enemies found out about today and took her?

“She was getting ready, and asked for a moment to herself, when her mother came back in to check on her, she was gone.” John added as he leaned on the closest chair.

Thomas stood and took in his brother's words for a moment before he left the room. His future wife was out in Birmingham in her pretty white dress, with no protection and no one was doing anything about it. Her family may not know this city, but Thomas did. He knew what could happen to her if she stayed out there too long. This won’t be an issue when they’re married, and she has his last name. She could kill someone and get away with it then, but right now no one in Birmingham knows who she is. All they know is that she is a pretty girl in a white wedding dress, and the thought of what could happen to her made him sick.

Thomas looked everywhere he could think his fiance would be. He couldn’t find her anywhere, the only place he hadn’t checked was the Garrison.

He walked in to see his bride to be, standing behind the bar making herself what looked like her fourth drink. He walked in slowly, making sure not to scare her.

“(Y/n)?” He asked as he walked up to the bar. She looked up at him as she continued to make her drink. “I’m Thomas Shelby, your future-”

“I know who you are.” She said, cutting him off.

“Well, we're supposed to be getting married right now.” He said matter of factly. “So what are you doing here?”

“I’m not marrying you, thought you would have figured that out by now.” She said as she took a sip of her drink.

Thomas looked at her, making sure to not show how shocked he was that she was speaking to him that way.

“And, why not?” He asked her, now intrigued.

“I don’t want to, I don't know you.” She said as she finished her drink.

Thomas moved to be behind the bar where she was. He took her drink from her hand and placed it on the bar.

“(Y/n)” He said as he towered over her. “Your father has already given me your hand.”

“I know, I don’t care.” She said as she grabbed her drink back from Thomas.

Thomas just took a moment and stared at the girl as she took her drink back. It was the first time he truly got to look at her. He got to take in the color of her eyes, and the curl of her hair, she truly was beautiful.

“Why exactly are you so against marrying me?” He asked as he stared at her.

“I want to be my own person, not defined by my father or my husband.” She said not missing a beat.

“I think I can help with that.” Thomas said, starting to get closer to the girl. “I have a certain reputation, if you’re married to me, you’ll be untouchable.”

“That's still me being defined by my husband.” She said, cutting him off with a small eye roll.

Thomas took the drink from her and set it back down, but this time, she didn’t turn away from him, she just stared up at him, waiting for him to continue.

“As I was saying, you would be untouchable, and if you wanted a role in peaky blinder business, you wouldn’t just be “Thomas Shelby's wife”. You would be “(Y/n) Shelby, most feared woman in Birmingham”. You have an opportunity here, the choice is yours.” Thomas said, staring her in the eyes. Normally he would never offer this to someone he just met. But there was something about (Y/n), just the look in her eyes, the way she wasn’t scared of him, how she held herself, how she looked at him with the same amount of intensity he looked a her with, how she didn’t care she was defying the most feared man in birmingham. "Don't let your pride get in the way of a smart decision."

Thomas watches the girl stare at the wall for a moment, him taking in her side profile. Until she finally looked up at him.

"I won't be reduced to just your little wife?" She asked with a small glimmer of hope in her eyes.

"I'll let you take care of anyone who says you are" He said with a serious look on his face.

The girl gave him a small smile, it was obvious that no one had ever believed in her the way Thomas was right now, that they all thought of her as some weak little girl and nothing more.

"Fine, I'll marry you" She said as she looked up at him with a small smile.

Thomas wrapped her arm in his and led her out of the Garrison. He held the bottom of her white dress up away from the dirt as he walked them back to the church.

“You know, you’re not supposed to see the bride before the wedding.” She said to him with a small laugh. “It’s bad luck.”

“I won’t let anything ruin this marriage, trust me.” He said as he opened the church door for her and let her walk in first. Thomas watched as her family whisked her away, knowing that this girl was truly something he had never expected her to be, and he loved it.

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luveline · 1 year

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𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 | 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

when internet trolls poke fun at your appearance while working on a case, hotch is there to make you feel better. fem!reader, 3k

tw cyberbullying, poor eating habits, criminal minds typical violence

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You're not a media liaison or anything close, but with JJ off for maternity leave and Penelope in Quantico, there's a face needed for the press announcement on TV, and you offer to step in.

You aren't particularly eager to do it, but Hotch doesn't have the time or wherewithal and such a high intensity case, not while Spencer is at half-mast, migraines rendering him ineffective and stubborn. You're trying to keep the ship sailing smoothly, doing your part of the profiling while juggling media and supporting the police sergeant that's heading the tip line.

You're not expecting to become a joke. After a red-eye, three sleepless nights trying to find a missing woman in Oklahoma —the domestic violence capital— and a full day without something to eat, you're aware you don't look your best, but you aren't sure what that has to do with your missing person.

The FBI — fugly bitches International. #FindDanaLangley

Damn, are they not letting those agents sleep or what? She looks terrible !

she should be less worried about Dana Langley and more concerned with the dead woman in the mirror, ew

hope theu find her just so they stop putting this creature on TV #FindDanaLangley

"Well," you murmur, wondering if it would be inappropriate to burst into tears, "these aren't especially helpful."

Derek looks at you, his gaze measured, and you know he's not sure how to react to you or what's happening. He settles on his usual loving encouragement, because he's a very good friend.

"Don't listen to all that," he says, throwing his arm around your shoulder, "those trolls wouldn't know beautiful if it hit them in the face. But we could always try it?"

You sink into his hold, needing the reassurance even if you wish you didn't. "No hitting," you say, covering your mouth to hide a large and possibly fugly yawn. Your head is racing with regurgitated insults. "It doesn't matter, Derek. Promise. We have bigger stuff to deal with."

The door opens and Hotch and Emily step inside, Rossi just behind them. You're thinking Hotch is going to agree with your sentiment, no time for comfort when a woman's life is at stake, so you move away from Morgan to sit in front of your laptop again.

"Is something wrong?" Hotch asks.

You meet his eyes just long enough to smile at him. "Nothing. What did Amandla have to say?"

Emily retells the alibi of Dana's ex-girlfriend and is clearly suspicious but without proof, you're forced as a team to move on to the next lead. Spencer returns shortly afterward and you try to brainstorm your next step.

It's Penelope that pulls through. "You asked me to cross reference the neighbours at Dana's previous address with people crossing state lines, right, after that one guy ended up being kinda icky? Well I did that, and nothing came up, which was–"

"Garcia," Hotch interrupts.

"Right. Long story short, one of the neighbours recently had an extreme falling out with Icky Guy after a years long friendship, his name is Justin Mantova, he has extreme PTSD with documented episodes of confused aggression, and he's been seen coming in and out of a storage unit in Paseo Storage Solutions for the past four days."

"Address?" Hotch asks.

"Already sent to your phones."

"Thank you, Pen," you say.

"Just go catch the bad guy, pretty girl," she says.

Ah, so she's seen the tweets too. You frown rather than smile, reminded again of what's been said and wishing you could be anywhere else.

You get your wish and forget all about personal grievances for a while, concerned with the safe location and extraction of Dana Langley. The operation is clean, and she's hurt but has a great chance at a full recovery. It's quick, it's professional.

You're falling asleep in the SUV on the way back. Hotch at the wheel, Spencer in the backseat, you rub your eyes from the passenger side and try not to look suspiciously morose, but it's impossible. Hotch is too good at his job.

"Are you sure everything's okay?" he asks. With Spencer's window open and the wind whipping, it's hard to hear him.

"Hm?"

"Is everything okay?"

"I'm just tired." You don't look at him. It's rude of you, but if what they've said is true —you'd seen the photographs, and you looked tired, sure, but you still looked like you. "Just tired," you say again. You snap your mouth closed when your voice wobbles.

Hotch is regularly too sweet on you. Most of the team say it's a crush. Emily calls it 'character development. Whatever it is, he's nice to you. He warmed up to you near immediately when you first joined the team, and he's been as welcoming months later as he was in your first week.

Maybe he feels sorry for me, you think, submerging yourself inch by inch into self pity.

The three of you regroup with the others at the police station to pen immediate recounts of what happened before you can forget, tying up loose ends.

Finally you're able to go back to the hotel. Another half an hour and you're in the lobby.

"We'll go home in the morning. Nine AM flight, meet in the lobby at eight thirty," Hotch says. "Get some rest."

You disband. They've squeezed you in all over the place, and you're lucky enough to be next to the elevator on the second floor. Hotch is the third floor, and everyone else the sixth, so you say goodbye to your colleagues and exit the elevator, stepping onto the second floor with a parting smile.

You can't know it, but Hotch notices the way your smile falls before the doors have well and truly closed. Your shoulders slump in defeat.

You trudge into your room and don't bother turning on the lights. The door closes behind you and the mask you'd been holding up starts to crack. You put your laptop in the closet despite temptation to boot it up, knowing no good can come of looking at the tip hashtag again.

You head into the bathroom to pee, and you're confronted with your appearance as you wash your hands.

You stare at yourself.

You look tired.

Tears well as you look at yourself. You're not those things those people said. You're pretty, and when you smile everyone knows it. There's nothing so beautiful as a smile. You can't summon one, but you know it's the truth.

Or, it should be.

A single tear falls down your cheek, quickly followed by a second, and a third from the other eye. You ignore them, tracing the line of your bottom lip, the texture of your skin on your cheeks, the slight sunken effect of your under eyes.

A knock makes you flinch. "Fuck," you say, wiping your cheek with the back of a hand, twisting on the spot like looking into your room might reveal whoever it is at the door. Probably one of your team. "Hello?" you call.

"It's me. It's Hotch. I know it's after hours, but I wanted to speak with you."

Whatever reassurance he has to give might actually make this all much worse. You don't want any pity from anybody, you just want today to be over. Still, you wiggle your toes into the plush hotel carpeting, debating only for a moment about the pros and cons of pretending to be asleep.

"Hey," you say, opening the door. You wipe your eyes and hope he takes it for a tired gesture rather than a method of hiding the glassy sheen at your waterline. "Hi, Hotch, how are you feeling?"

"Fine. Tired. Thank you for asking."

"Do you want to come in?" you ask.

"Please."

Hotch follows you into your room. There's an armchair across from the bed next to a desk and an old TV sitting atop it. Your suitcase is still open on your bed, your pyjamas crumpled in the shell. You close it before Hotch can see. That's another thing to add to your list: being a slob.

"It's very clean in here," he says.

You startle. "What?"

"It's clean, considering how long we've been here. Have you ever seen Spencer's room at the end of a case?" he asks.

"No, is it bad?"

"It's like a paper hurricane."

You look down at your knees, hyper aware of his gaze on your face, tired of feeling uneasy in your skin.

"I wanted to say thank you for doing the press release yesterday. You did an amazing job. It's something to be proud of."

Of course he's talking about the press release, the one thing you need to not think about.

"Did Derek tell you?" you ask.

"Tell me what?" he asks, voice sharpening.

You look up. Hotch is a picture of concern, professionalism slightly off centre.

"Nothing."

"Something's been bothering you. Something Derek should've told me, I'm guessing."

You chew over your words. "Uh. Hotch, it's really nothing, it's a hiccup. The press release, I…" You really don't want to have to say it. The words get stuck at the back of your throat.

He leans forward. "What?"

"I looked sick. On TV. I looked really unwell, and it– it actually–" Why are you stammering? What's wrong with you? You laugh and it's not your laugh but it's better than your nonsense stuttering. "Sorry. On the press release, I didn't look my best, and it was a hot topic. That's what I thought Derek told you about. But I don't need anyone feeling sorry for me, Hotch."

"I don't feel sorry for you."

You wince, "No, of course not."

"Two seconds," he says, putting his hand forward in the air between you. "A hot topic? I don't understand." He looks genuinely apologetic.

"The tip line got clogged up with comments about my appearance," you say. You phrase it as a professional error rather than the embarrassing event it represents in your personal life.

His lips curl downward. "Saying you looked tired."

"Saying I looked unagreeable."

"As a friend," he says, tone softening, "could you tell me what they said?"

Heat blooms in your cheeks and behind your eyes, your throat aching as you scratch at a nonexistent itch in the crook of your elbow. "Um. Well, there was a lot of them, and they weren't all about me, but the ones I saw, they seemed to think I needed more sleep. That I–"

Hitch rarely interrupts, but something in your voice must impel him. "What did they say?" he asks again.

"That I looked like a creature. That they hoped Miss Langley would be found, so that they didn't have to see my face on TV again. Hotch," you say, your throat sounding as tight as it feels, "it was pretty bad, but it really doesn't matter."

"I think it matters if it's upset you," he says.

He has the warmest voice when he wants it to be, so dulcet, almost melodic. You'd think it was a practised phrase, but he speaks freely.

"It didn't," you lie.

Pointless in your line of work and automatic anyways. Hotch doesn't deny you the safety of your untruth, but he doesn't entertain it, either.

"You're beautiful when you're tired," he says.

You don't mean to, but you hold your breath. The silence that follows his remark is deafening.

"You're beautiful," he says, again, as though you could've missed it the first time. "Regrettably, you're very tired, but you don't look any less pretty. Don't think what was sent in to the tip line has any merit."

"Are you saying that as my friend or my boss?" you ask. It's meant to be a joke that lightens the mood.

"Neither," Hotch says.

You gawp, and then falter. "Why…"

Hotch is close enough to offer a hand, and you're feeling stupid enough to take it. He squeezes tenderly, looking you straight in the eye. "I'm sorry about what's being said. I had no idea. We can pull the video, and the tipline should stop now Dana's been found, but it doesn't erase what's already happened. I'm so sorry. It's not right, and it's not fair."

"It's a hard job, right?" you ask.

His hand is so so big, and not as soft as you'd pictured. It doesn't make a difference, not when he's touching you like you might shatter.

"That's not the job," he says.

"It's silly to care, though. About what other people think."

"I hope you care about what I think. The merit of an opinion comes from the person, and the relationship you have with them. Anyone who knew you would know that you're beautiful."

"Inside that counts," you say, not fully comforted, but trying to give him an out.

"You're beautiful on the outside," he says, giving your hand a small shake. "You're an amazing woman, of course. But I, for one, enjoyed seeing your face on TV."

You try not to smile too hard, directing your gaze at your joined hands lest he get a read on you.

Hotch must know how you feel about him. He'd be an awful profiler if he didn't. You fawn when you're around him even now, months down the line from your very first meeting when you were sure your heart would ricochet from your chest, the intensity of your instant crush like nothing you'd felt, not even as a schoolgirl. He'd been tall, striking, classically handsome and completely unaware of the fact. Now he's sitting across from you and he doesn't seem so tall, nor so striking. His caring side shines like a gem. It's blinding, and it really does make you feel better.

"I cried in the bathroom," you confess, rubbing your thumb against his in minute, near imperceptible circles. "I wish it didn't matter to me, how I looked. I know I was doing something important, and there wasn't time to freshen up. Maybe I should've just asked somebody else."

"You did it perfectly. You were perfect. No one else could have delivered the profile to the public that professionally, and that astutely."

Hotch stands up, and you don't know what to do. You decide to look up at him just as he takes your face into his hands.

"No crying in bathrooms, okay? It would… it breaks my heart thinking about it. You come to me."

Such a dramatic statement, yet Hoch lays it out like it's an unquestionable truth. No bravado, only a sincerity that makes your throat hurt. His frown slides back into place as his palms warm your cheeks.

"You're so busy, I could never," you say, shaking your head.

"Time and place, sure, but. I will always try to make time for you. I hope you know that by now."

You nod dazedly. Hotch's hands drag with a pressure down to your neck, your shoulders, leaving tingling skin in their wake. He looks at you and time stretches, a few seconds pulled out of order. It's his closeness, and his affectionate, empathetic smile.

You nod again.

He relaxes.

"Try and get some rest, okay? You need to take care of yourself. I know it's hard to ignore how you feel, I know today was hard, but you're one of the strongest people I've ever met. I have faith in you." He gives your shoulder a final squeeze. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," you say. It comes out much more quietly than intended.

"Rest, honey. Call me if you're upset again. I mean it."

He smooths your cheek with the back of his forefinger and you wonder if this is some weird fantasy. Hotch makes for the door, and you know for sure it's real when he says, "And no more caffeine tonight."

"No more caffeine," you agree.

He doesn't realise he's twice as bad as a coffee. Your heart races all by itself, his phantom touch on your cheek.

—

"Hi, beautiful," Derek says.

"There's the girl of the hour," Rossi says.

You roll your arm in a bow, eyes stinging from the bright lobby lights but otherwise quite happy. Hotch called you beautiful last night. Hotch called you honey. People on the Internet who have nothing better to do thought you looked gross, but Hotch thinks you're pretty. It's hard to focus on the negative with a positive that good.

"Good morning, my favourite boys," you say sweetly.

Spencer looks up from his book. "Hey."

"You didn't say hello," you say, "you excluded yourself."

Spencer frowns and goes back to his book. You offer him a mini cookie from your pocket and he perks up, better when you whisper, "You know you're my favourite, Reid."

"We all know that's a lie," Emily says, rolling her small suitcase to your left and nearly trampling your foot.

"Unfortunately so," Rossi agrees.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about."

"Hotch looks chipper this morning, doesn't he?" Derek asks, nodding. You follow his nod too quickly and give yourself away, earning a scattered round of laughter from your tired team. "Got you."

"Laugh it up," you say. You're on a high that can't be killed, even with their collective teasing.

"Why are we laughing?" Hotch asks from behind you.

You jump half out of your skin.

"We were laughing at Y/N's swift observational skills, but we spoke too soon," Emily says.

Hotch takes a moment to smile at you. "Hey, you look a little more rested. Feeling better?"

A flush rises to your cheeks. "Much," you say, sounding foreign to your own ears.

Hotch gives a pleased nod and clasps your shoulder gently before manoeuvring around you. "Let me go see where JJ is."

He walks around the lobby corner and into the hotel restaurant. You have your face in your hands before he's gone, harassed by quiet whistles and giggling.

"She's so embarrassed!" Rossi cheers, like a proud dad. "How hopeless, young love."

"Someone please shut him up," you beg, rubbing your aching eyes. It's an excuse to hide your smile a moment longer.

"Are you still tired?" Spencer asks. "You look tired."

"She does not," Derek says severely.

You raise your head with a smile. Tired or not, Hotch thinks you're beautiful. He liked seeing you on TV. You lavish the memory.

"I'm genuinely exhausted," you say eventually, a smile stretching from cheek to cheek as you stand tall again.

"I want whatever kind of tired you're feeling," JJ says as she arrives, Hotch a step behind her.

You meet his eyes. You think he might not acknowledge what's been said between you —it wasn't strictly professional to have held your face in his hands like that, after all— and the beginnings of disappointment creep in, until he stands at your side, his fingertips brushing yours. It cannot be accidental.

"She wears it well, doesn't she?" he asks the group. He gives no time for an answer. "Everyone ready?"

You practically vibrate your way to the SUV. Not a bad case, as they go.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading, so much! I hope you enjoyed! if you did and you have the time, please consider reblogging cos it makes me happy <3

#aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotch hotchner

1K notes · View notes

bowtiepastabitch · 7 months

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Historical Analysis: class and injustice in 'The Ressurrectionists' minisode

Alternate title: why we're tempted to be upset with Aziraphale and why that's only halfway fair

Okay so first off huge thanks to @makewayforbigcrossducks for asking the question (and follow-up questions lol) that brought me to put these thoughts all together into a little history nerd ramble. That question being, Why is Aziraphale so clueless? Obviously, from a plot perspective, we know we need to learn some lessons about human moral dilemmas and injustices. But from a character perspective? A lot of this minisode is about Aziraphale being forced to confront the flaws of heavenly logic. This whole idea that "poverty is ineffable" basically boils down to 'yeah some people are poor, but their souls can be saved just as if not more easily that way, so it's not our problem and they probably deserve it anyway for not working hard enough,' a perspective that persists in many modern religious circles. Aziraphale isn't looking at the human factor here, he's pretty much purely concerned about the dichotomy of good and wicked human behavior and the spiritual consequences thereof, because that's what he's been told to believe. His whole goal is to "show her the error of her ways." He believes, quite wholeheartedly, that he's helping her in the long run.

"the lower you start, the more opportunities you have"

So here's what we're asking ourselves: Why did it take him so bloody long to realize how stupid that is? Sure, he's willing to excuse all kinds of things in the name of ineffability, but if someone in the year of our lord 2023 told me he was just now realizing that homelessness was bad after experiencing the past two centuries, I'd be resisting the urge to get violent even if he WAS played by Michael Sheen.

Historical context: a new type of poverty

Prior to the 19th century (1800s), poverty was a very different animal from what we deal with now. The lowest classes went through a dynamic change leading up to the industrial revolution, with proto-industrialization already moving people into more manufacture-focused tasks and rapid urbanization as a result of increasingly unlivable conditions for rural peasantry. The enclosure of common lands and tennancies by wealthy landowners for the more profitable sheep raising displaced lots of families, and in combination with poor harvests and rising rents, many people were driven to cities to seek out new ways of eeking out a living.

Before this, your ability to eat largely would have depended on the harvest in your local area. This can, for our purposes, be read as: you're really only a miracle away from being able to survive the winter. Juxtapose this, then, with the relatively new conundrum of an unhoused urban poor population. Now if you want to eat, you need money itself, no exceptions, unless you want to steal food. Charity at the time was often just as much harm as good, nearly always tied deeply up in religious attitudes and a stronger desire to proselytize than improve quality of lie. As a young woman, finding work in a city is going to be incredibly difficult, especially if you're not clean and proper enough to present as a housemaid or other service laborer. As such, Elspeth turns to body snatching to try to make a better life for herself and Wee Morag. She's out of options and she knows it.

You know who doesn't know that? Aziraphale.

The rise of capitalism

The biggest piece of the puzzle which Aziraphale is missing here is that he hasn't quite caught onto the concept of capitalism yet. To him, human professions are just silly little tasks, and she should be able to support herself if she just tried. Bookselling, weaving, farming, these are all just things humans do, in his mind. He suggests these things as options because it hasn't occurred to him yet that Elspeth is doing this out of desperation, but he also just doesn't grasp the concept of capital. Crowley does, he thinks it's hilarious, but Aziraphale is just confused as to why these occupations aren't genuine options. Farming in particular, as briefly touched on above, was formerly carried out largely on common land, tennancies, or on family plots, and land-as-capital is an emerging concept in this period of time (previously, landowners acted more like local lords than modern landlords). Aziraphale just isn't picking up on the fact that money itself is the root issue.

Even when he realizes that he fucked up by soup-ifying the corpse, he doesn't offer to give them money but rather to help dig up another body. He still isn't processing the systemic issues at play (poverty) merely what's been immediately presented to him (corpses), and this is, from my perspective, half a result of his tunnel-vision on morality and half of his inability to process this new mode of human suffering.

Half a conclusion and other thoughts

So we bring ourselves back around to the question of Aziraphale's cluelessness. Aziraphale is, as an individual, consistently behind on the times. He likes doing things a certain way and rarely changes his methodology unless someone forces his hand. Even with the best intentions, his ability to help in this minisode is hindered by two points: 1)his continued adherance to heavenly dogma 2)his inability to process the changing nature of human society. His strongest desire at any point is to ensure that good is carried out, an objective good as defined by heavenly values, and while I think it's one of his biggest character hangups, I also can't totally blame him for clinging to the only identity given to him or for worrying about something that is, as an ethereal being, a very real concern. Unfortunately, he also lacks an understanding of the actual human needs that present themselves. Where Elspeth knows that what she needs is money, Aziraphale doesn't seem to process that money is the only solution to the immediate problem. This is in part probably because a century prior the needs of the poor were much simpler, and thus miraculous assistance would never have interfered with 'the virtues of poverty'. (You can make someone's crops grow, and they'll eat well, but giving someone money actually changes their economic status.) Thus, his actions in this episode illustrate the intersection of heavenly guidelines with a weak understanding of modern structures.

This especially makes sense with his response to being told to give her money. Our angel is many things, but I would never peg him as having any attachment to his money. He's not hesitant because he doesn't want to part with it, he's hesitant because he's still scared it's the wrong thing to do in this scenario. He really is trying to be good and helpful. So yes, we're justifiably pretty miffed to see him so blatantly unaware and damaging. He definitely holds a lot of responsibility for the genuine tragedy of this minisode, and I think Crowley pointing out that it's 'different when you knew them' is an extremely important moment for Aziraphale's relationship with humanity. Up until now, he's done a pretty good job insulating himself from the capacity of humans for nastiness, his seeming naivity at the Bastille being case in point.

In the end, I think Aziraphale's role in this minisode is incredibly complex, especially within its historical context. He's obstinate and clueless but also deeply concerned with spiritual wellbeing (which is, to Aziraphale, simply wellbeing) and doing the right thing to be helpful. While it's easy to allow tiny Crowley (my beloved) to eclipse the tragic nature and moral complexity of this minisode, I think in the end it's just as important to long-term character development as 'A Companion to Owls'. We saw him make the right choice with Job's children, and now we see him make the wrong choice. And that's a thing people do sometimes, a thing humans do.

~~~

also tagging @ineffabildaddy, @kimberellaroo, and @raining-stars-somewhere-else whose comments on the original post were invaluable in helping me organize my thoughts and feelings about this topic. They also provided great insight that, in my opinion, is worth going and reading for yourself, even if it didn't factor into my final analysis/judgement.

If I missed anything or you have additional thoughts, please please share!!! <3

#this was a monster of a post to write #in no small part because I was relying more on my own historical knowledge than usual so I had to double check myself constantly #but I had a lot of fun and I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did #good omens #good omens 2 #neil gaiman #good omens analysis #good omens meta #the resurrectionists #good omens season 2 #good omens minisode #nerd shit #ineffable husbands #aziraphale good omens

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aww-canon-no · 1 year

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Steddie (Deaf Steve) Pt 2

You asked, so I’m here to give you more. This time from Eddie’s POV.

First kiss, sequel to Shoot Your Shot.

***

Soon Enough

Rated: T

Steve/Eddie

Modern AU, first kisses, Deaf Steve, ASL

(Content warnings: mentions of childhood neglect/abuse)

Eddie has never, ever once believed in conformity. And he’s not about to start now.

(Eddie’s ASL fuck-up is translated in notes at bottom of this fic)

***

Eddie Munson’s life has always been…difficult, to say the least. Born under a bad sign, Wayne liked to call it, but in a kind of affectionate way. The way where he’s holding small Eddie who can’t stop crying and wondering why all the other kids in his class have really nice parents who buy them things and, you know, feed them.

Wayne stepped in when he could. He never failed to show up with food and threats against his brother when he heard Eddie’s tiny, broken voice on the other end of the phone because his dad was too drunk or too high to feed him. Eventually they struck a deal. Eddie’s parents disappeared after signing some scary looking paperwork, and Eddie got to pack all his things and move to Wayne’s trailer which was small compared to where his classmates all lived, but nice.

So nice.

Like washing machine and running water nice.

He won’t have to be the smelly kid in class anymore.

He just didn’t realize how reputations clung in small towns.

So suffice it to say that Eddie abhors difficult things—including difficult people. It’s why, when his little lambs started going on and on and fucking ON about their cool, badass older friend Steve who used to date Nancy, Eddie was determined to never meet him.

It wasn’t just the jealousy.

It was that Steve communicated on a whole other level. Literally. He was Deaf. He went to the Deaf school that wasn’t anywhere near Hawkins and he knew no one, but somehow Steve and his perfect fucking hair was still popular amongst people who weren’t freaked out by the whole, he can’t hear shit, thing.

Yeah, it definitely wasn’t jealousy.

It was the fact that Steve was complicated and he used a whole separate language and Eddie just…had no plans to involve himself in that.

Never mind the kids were over the goddamn moon about being able to know ASL. They communicated with it during campaigns whenever they didn’t want Eddie to know their plans, and—although Eddie actually did look up stuff online about Deaf people (all that stuff about capital D and lowercase d and the community and culture was all very overwhelming) he was pretty sure his little lambs were technically not allowed to make up sign names for all the creatures in their guides.

But they did it anyway and who was Eddie to stop them.

He ended up picking up a few things by osmosis, whether he liked it or not.

But he was determined, damn it. He existed over here, Steve existed over there, and they all lived happily ever after.

Until the afternoon he walked into Scoops Ahoy.

***

Eddie had actually gone in to bother Robin. They were sort of outcast friends. Two freaky little gays at Hawkins High, though she was younger than him and had absolutely no interest in DnD, but they had a shared trauma bond of bullies and bullshit.

He came to a stop when he saw the absurdly good looking guy at the counter who was staring at him in ways no one had ever stared at Eddie. The way that said he had no idea who Eddie was and it was always great to have a fresh start like that.

Then Eddie fucked up by not reading his badge and realizing exactly who was there.

And like Dustin had once predicted, the second he met Steve’s eyes, he was a gonner. There was no resisting him.

He was smitten and the hole was too deep for him to claw his way out of.

He went home and looked up a bunch of videos that seemed suspect as fuck, so in the end he called Dustin who showed up at Eddie’s trailer with an arsenal of websites.

“Can’t you just get me, like, a book or something?” Eddie had asked, feeling intimated and overwhelmed and already kind of tired.

Dustin had given him the bitchiest bitch face that ever bitched. “You can’t learn ASL from a book, numbnuts.” Then his hands twisted into the complicated shapes—all fast the way Dustin kept bragging about—and Eddie assumed he was repeating most of what he’d just said.

Eddie damn-well knew that if he actually wanted Steve to say yes to him, he was absolutely going to have to learn because while the kids said Steve could speak, he hated doing it. And Eddie was the kind of guy who had been rebelling against forced conformity his entire life.

So yeah, he’d rather die than put that choice to Steve.

He learned enough to feel confident going back to the mall. And Robin was once again playing the long game with Vickie who would literally drag Robin into the cleaning closet and rock her world if Robin only asked—but he knew she wouldn’t. But it left the perfect opening for Eddie who walked up to the counter, panicked, and immediately forgot everything he’d learned about ASL in the time he’d been away from Steve’s ice cream counter.

In the end, he remembered a little, then tried to backtrack and tell Steve he’d ask him out when he was a little more fluent.

Which made Steve laugh, and Eddie wouldn’t find out until much later that it took at least seven years of immersion to become fluent so…

Yeah it was kind of hilarious.

For Steve.

Mortifying for Eddie.

The blow was softened when Steve touched him—like actually touched him without reservation or hesitation. And then he told Eddie he didn’t want him to wait. Eddie was fine as he was—that patience with his language could be a thing and Jesus H Christ Eddie was pretty sure he could die right then.

Except if he died he wouldn’t get the chance to touch Steve back, and kiss him, and make him laugh, and make him make other noises and Jesus H Christ he wanted that so bad he could taste it. Because he’d been avoiding Steve for what felt like half his new adult life but he was head over heels smitten in two visits to the ice cream shop.

And he didn’t even like ice cream.

He was lactose intolerant for fuck’s sake.

Anyway, he got Steve’s number and he didn’t wait to text.

But the date did.

They planned for the movies and then…

Wayne got hurt at the plant. He ended up being fine, but it scared the absolute fuck out of Eddie who staying at the hospital until his back hurt from the small chair, and his phone was dead, and he felt like passing out.

The nurses had to kick him out, and Eddie walked out of the room in a fog, and stumbled into the downstairs lobby where he came to an abrupt halt at the sight of a familiar, gorgeous head of hair. Steve was facing away from him with big headphones on, bobbing his head to…music?

Eddie totally didn’t get it, but he couldn’t help himself from walking over and laying a hand on Steve’s shoulder. He felt like shit when Steve jumped half a foot off the chair, but then his face broke out into a soft, sympathetic smile.

‘Hi.’ It was a simple enough sign that Eddie didn’t have to try for that one. ‘You OK?’ He signed slow, mouthing the words.

Eddie swallowed heavily, then shrugged. His fingers felt a little stiff and he wasn’t sure he had the emotional capacity to take embarrassing himself by getting signs wrong no matter how frantically he’d been practicing since the day at the mall.

Steve’s face fell a little more, and Eddie was pretty sure he’d never seen anyone look so…so soft at him before. He walked around the benches toward Eddie, then yanked him into a hug. It was so unexpected that Eddie just…melted. His head pressed against Steve’s headphones which were blaring with music, and Eddie had about a thousand questions but instead he just lost himself in the way that Steve hugged.

It was…a lot.

Of course, it was mostly that Eddie just never, ever got hugged and all the touching he did was imitated by himself and almost never returned, but that was a different trauma for a different day.

For now he just let himself have this. Have Steve. Have the body pressed to his and voiceless permission to kind of shake apart after holding it together for hours, and hours, and hours.

When he pulled back, Steve gave him a cautious smile and Eddie reached up, tapping Steve’s headphones.

‘Hurt?’ Eddie asked. ‘Loud?’

Steve frowned, then rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone, turning off his music before pulling them back and draping them around his neck. He shook his head and shrugged. ‘Can’t…hear?’ Eddie was pretty sure that was the sign for hear. Not hearing, which was a little finger twirl under the bottom lip. ‘Not hurt Feel it.’

Eddie nodded and shoved his hands into his pockets before remembering—oh shit, I need those to like, talk to Steve, and pulled them out again.

Steve laughed—but he was maybe one of the only people in the world who didn’t seem like he was laughing at Eddie, and wow what a goddamn novelty that was.

Steve tapped his arm and Eddie looked up at him as Steve curled his hand into a C-shape and dragged it down his throat. ‘Hungry-you?’

He was starved. He mimicked the sign and remembered the lesson he learned online where he had to exaggerate the sign if he wanted to emphasize what he was saying. So he ran his C-hand over his throat a few times, then added, ‘Eat, before, work.’ He met his left wrist with his right wrist once with heavy force. He knew that wasn’t right but maybe it was close enough?

Except Steve was suddenly all red in the face and making a choking sound. Eddie took a step back, but Steve reached out and snagged his arm before he could get too far, shaking his head.

Eddie was pretty sure he was supposed to be mortified but right then he was mostly curious and uh…yeah. Steve was touching him again so that was good.

Steve touched the underside of Eddie’s chin and he made an embarrassing noise which Steve must have felt because his grin twitched a little wider. Then he shook his head.

‘H U N G R Y,’ he spelled very slowly. He repeated his sign, then added, ‘S T A R V I N G?’ He made a little question mark motion with his finger. It was weirdly cute, and Eddie didn’t describe things as cute very often.

He nodded. Yeah. He’d been trying to say starving.

Steve made a noisy sort of huffing sound with some rumble behind it, then squared his shoulders and nodded before raising his right hand. His left signed, ‘Watch.’

Eddie nodded.

Steve made an exaggerated face and dragged his C-hand down his throat with more force. ‘Ok?’

Eddie nodded. Okay, yeah. He could do that.

Steve wasn’t done. ‘W O R K?’

Eddie smiled and nodded his fist. ‘Yes.’

Steve tapped the inside of his right wrist against the back of his left wrist. ‘Work,’ he signed.

Eddie repeated the sign, and Steve nodded, giving him an enthusiastic thumb’s up.

‘Now- go-you-me.’ Steve signed—Eddie was...pretty sure? God he needed to practice more.

But he answered Steve with a happy, ‘OK,’ and didn’t mind at all when Steve took his hand.

Until suddenly he did mind because…

He dragged Steve to a halt and cleared his throat, pulling out his phone with his free hand and typing as fast as he could, ‘What did I say? Before? What did I fuck up?’

Steve’s eyes got wide and he waved him off, but Eddie tugged on him until Steve let out a small groan, snatched the phone, and began to type. Eddie had not one single qualm about reading over his shoulder, and in about five seconds, he wanted the earth to swallow him whole.

“I signed what?” he demanded aloud, forgetting himself entirely.

Steve looked over his shoulder, his face kind of…different. Confused? Full of pity at how fucking pathetic Eddie was? Embarrassed to know him?

Was he…

Eddie’s thoughts came to a sudden, screeching halt when Steve cradled his face between his hands. He leaned forward until his lips were practically brushing Eddie’s ear and he whispered aloud, “I’d be happy to fix that problem too.”

Eddie was already pretty sure spontaneous combustion was a thing, and now he was about to be living proof because oh my GOD. Oh my... god oh my god oh my…

Steve dragged a thumb over Eddie’s lower lip, then raised his brows like he was asking, ‘Is this okay?’

Eddie nodded frantically and Steve began walking him backward until his back suddenly hit…oh. It was a tree. The bark was sharp against his bare elbow, but all of that ceased to matter the second Steve’s lips touched his. It wasn’t a wild, desperate kiss of star-crossed lovers in the books Eddie secretly read.

No, it was soft. It was gentle.

It was warm and it was fucking needy as hell but it was also the first kiss in a line of what Eddie was determined to have as many, many, many as he could. As many as Steve would allow.

For the rest of their lives, God help them both.

Steve gently licked into Eddie’s mouth before finally pulling away, and the stress of Wayne being hurt and then him thoroughly embarrassing himself, he wasn’t hard or anything, but there was definitely a sort of humming desire under his skin which were as warm as his hands were because they...

Oh.

He looked down and realized that he’d rucked up Steve’s shirt and was digging his fingers into Steve’s bare hips. ‘Sorry,’ he signed, dislodging one hand.

Steve laughed—a quiet huff mostly through his nose, and he shook his head before stealing a last kiss. Eddie wanted to chase it, but he forced himself to keep his back to the tree as Steve dug into his pocket for his phone again.

‘For now,” he wiggled his phone. ‘Until we can spend more time together and I can teach you more,’ Steve typed out.

Eddie swallowed heavily, then nodded. ‘Why are you here?’

Steve frowned like he was confused why Eddie would even ask that. ‘Dustin said your uncle was hurt. I didn’t want you to be alone when they kicked you out.’

Those words, that simple fucking act of kindness, was almost too much. The emotions overwhelmed him and he wanted to laugh, and cry, and scream, and fucking sing until his throat seized up and he lost his voice.

He stared at the phone screen until Steve dragged a tender touch across the top of his hand, and he looked up.

‘Come home with me tonight. Sleep,’ Steve typed before shoving his phone back into his pocket without waiting for Eddie’s answer. He knew he should probably say no because they hadn’t even had their date yet, but then again, Eddie had never been conventional.

Never would be conventional.

He rubbed a flat palm over his chest. ‘Please.’

Steve’s eyes darkened, just for a second. Eddie panicked before he realized that no, he’d gotten the sign just right. Steve was just maybe thinking of other ways Eddie might use that sign and…yeah.

Shit yeah.

Maybe not now. Not tonight. Not even very soon.

But soon enough.

Steve linked their fingers together and tugged…

And Eddie followed.

***

(Eddie’s ASL fuck-up. Common mistake in ASL- Hungry=Horny. Work=Fuck. Steve is kind of okay with that idea too lol)

#Steddie #Steve Harrington #Deaf Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #modern AU #Stranger Things #dustin henderson #steve x eddie

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afreakingdork · 29 days

Text

Deep Dive: Rise of the TMNT Donatello's Bad Boy Persona, His Cute, But Mean Type, and Why He is None of These Things

I made this presentation to delve into my take on Rise Donnie!

It was a power point, but I'm going to break it down here. I do want to preserve the first slide though because...

Did you know Black dahlia's aren't actually black? They're very dark red and in flower language they represent dishonesty!

Apropos, let's get into it...

Donnie is a Bad Liar

We see this throughout the show

“No? No… Of course I did… n't.”

"Uh, nothing. Just having a typical normal mystic free day."

"We are just typical, normal humans who got lost in the middle of our normal, everyday human lives. Nailed it."

"Oh man. Uh. This hurts me. Uh. I'm very sad?"

He has all the characteristics of a terrible liar. He sweats, his pitch warbles, his eyes dart, ect, everything you would expect.

Sarcasm! The Perfect Cover?

When Donnie does go for the use of sarcasm, he almost always points it out.

"I feel better already," he said without a hint of sarcasm."

"Oh, sure. Let me just load my tap-into-every-security-camera-in-New-York app. I'm sorry if that sounded like sarcasm, it wasn't. I am in."

Point Out the Obvious Much

However, when he doesn't point out the sarcasm, he also can't help but make mention of the oxymoron. We see this a lot, especially in Donnie vs. Witch Town.

"Oh yes very cool says Donnie as he quietly lets something go."

"Ooh, fireworks. Science never would have thought of something it was originally inventor of."

So basically, if Donnie tries to lie; he gives himself away. If Donnie tries to fudge the truth; he's compelled to make note of it.

I bring this all up to specifically tackle this sentence:

“So unfair. Although it is a boost for my emotionally unavailable bad boy image. “Y’ello.””

Why do I do so? Let me remind you of my first slide...

But how can that be? We just established that he's a bad liar. In the 'bad boy' line, he's not falling for any of his tells. He's body language gives no indication of lying. He doesn't make any note of sarcasm. No one after this line makes a face or corrects Donnie and he doesn't point out any discrepancies.

How could this be a lie?

Because Donnie himself doesn't know it's a lie.

Let Me Take You Back

Things I Did Unironically as a Teenager

Added Japanese honorifics to the end of my friends nicknames (-san, -chan, -kun)

Had my friends help me wrap myself up in caution tape for my birthday, but told people they made me

Wore a dog collar with a dog tag that had my name in Romanji on it

Had screen names like RubyBlueSango62 and blahweeblah626

But That’s Just Personal Experience!

Things Donnie has Unironically as a Teenager

"Ah, yes, so in this case a game of bask-eh-ball."

"Prepare to eateth thy words."

"Oh, hey guys. What’s the haps? Huh? Oh, oh this? I didn’t realize I had it on. This is my sweet new purple satin jacket- Got it from being a bit of a tech wiz. Purple Dragons. Members only. No big deal. Mm-hm. Well, you better grab some toast, fellas, 'cause you are all jelly!"

“It's Bootyyyshakker9000. Capital B and three Ys in booty.”

I believe it's a universal experience for teenagers to push boundaries. For so long, most parents decide everything for you. With hormones and growth, you want to experiment, but since autonomy is new, you try to break from the mold and do it uniquely. Anything that is outside your norm, especially things that swing wildly from what you once new seems especially exciting. From embellishing speech, to wearing specific clothing items, and even your first screen name, you don't know boundaries! It may be 'cringe' in the future, but when you first do it, it seems like the coolest thing ever! It's something that wholly represents you. This online space you. This you that is ungoverned! I'm an only child so I can't imagine, but I bet you especially want to do this when you have siblings. Where the shame in that?

I mean... Kat Haynes agrees with me on this...

Low Empathy

Now to get a little more serious. Alexithymia is a term that describes those who have difficulty feeling emotions. While not always associated with autism, it is more common in individuals with it. About 1 in 5 people who have autism also have alexithymia.

As already stated, it is clear the Donnie suffers from alexithymia. Most Donatello-centric conflicts in Rise have nothing to do with Donnie being emotionless and instead often deal with him lashing out due to his confusion or insecurities. We see this a lot especially in Witch Town where he is grappling with himself the entire episode. He's insecure about how he doesn't understand mysticism and he doesn't know how to process it or his place on the team. He's not emotionless, he's insecure when he doesn't understand something.

"Yes, feelings. Hot, cold, sleepy, hungry…"

"I don't normally feel things, but that one got through!"

Emotions on his Metaphorical Sleeve

Nothing about alexithymia says that you don't feel emotions. Instead, it's characterized by not understanding them. Donnie feels his emotions big and large just like Mikey does and especially if something is important to him, you'll see those reactions dialed up to eleven.

All Talk

While many think of the classic "semi-lethal" line and the "Speak for yourself" when Mikey says they aren't savages in regard to Donnie, he's not really the bad boy he plays himself up to be. When the theatrics are set aside, most of Donnie’s snap judgements are the altruistic kind or he thoughtfully plans out ways to not only take care of his family, but actively ensure their safety (to varying degrees of success, but that's not what we're saying here):

created devices which both counteracted his brother's flaws because they were getting them hurt

Used himself as a shield for Mikey on multiple occasions

Risks his own safety and bodily harm especially in Turtle-dega Nights: The Ballad of Rat Man and Breaking Purple

Builds Escape pods for everyone

Enters a sensory nightmare for the sake of the world

Often asks, especially Raph, if he's okay and looks out for the oldest brother

Yet the Presentation Continues?

Why yes, because there is another line of Donnie's that I want to tackle that I believe falls exactly in line with the 'bad boy image' one...

"Oh, you’re so cute, but so mean. Why do I always go for your type?"

You know what I'm about to posit again...

Insecure

As touched on previously, Donnie is insecure. He's insecure about his emotions. He's insecure about his place on the team. He's insecure about anything he doesn't understand and his insecurities are exceedingly personal in nature because he ties them intrinsically to his personality.

"The real thing is much more personal and thoughtful, and I really hope you like it, ‘cause if you don’t I will just be crushed!"

"This’ll teach you to compliment my work and give me my first positive reinforcement from a parent aged adult, ever!"

Speaking of parent aged adults... i wonder where this could stem from...

Role Model

Who do all the turtles model themselves after, but their own father? Whether they knew it or not, Lou Jitsu was someone they all strived to be like. They commited to learning all the lines from his movies. They fought like him outside of the training course Splinter sets them on. Heck, Donnie takes his hero worship so far that his character defining brows are exactly Lou Jitsu's! Babies start learning how to establish social and emotional relationships around 18 months. We have Splinter, a despondent, but loving care giver who unfortunately did not give Donnie the validation he craved. This manifests in his insecurities where he bends over backwards to get the attention he craves. He wants to be seen, again compounded by having three rowdy mutant-powered brothers, and so he ends up tying his worth into his ability.

Now, while for a majority of the series, the turtles don't know about Splinter's past or that he dated Big Mama, but it wasn't as if Splinter hid that part of himself away so obviously. In fact, because he himself is still mourning his lost humanity, he ends up feeding his son's a hardy diet of his life's existence. The boys are secondarily raised by Lou Jitsu movies in place where Splinter is not always present. Obviously, Lou Jitsu seemingly disappears, but Splinter's feelings on the matter don't. He openly still cares about Big Mama in the present and this I don't think it's a stretch to say that he would let these feelings leak in a similar way to how he presents Lou Jitsu in the boys lives. Big Mama is a attractive, albeit manipulative woman. This is awfully close to a little line someone says, especially when we consider that he models himself after this man.

Also, if we're taking models into account. Something we know for a fact shapes teenagers. Something we know for a fact that Donnie does. Something that is equally canonized in the show, then we have to talk about.

Donnie’s True Canonical Idol

That's right. You know her. You love her. You believe that Donnie is a thigh man because of this Lass' existence. Donnie says flat out that Atomic Lass is his childhood idol. He goes to great lengths to dance with her, smashing Leo out of the way. He then even goes so far as to ask if her and Atomic Lad have split up because his intention to date her is so clear. Now she was obviously a mutant in a costume, but that didn't matter because he loves Atomic Lass that much and Atomic Lass?

She's a heroine.

Only cute and mean in the context of the episode, this is not the Lass he fell in love with. The Lass he loves is a comic book hero that travels the universe doing good.

Also....

Ron Corcillo Agrees With Me

A staff writer on Rise, I apologize I can't show the origin tweet because it was deleted, but it was a dual question that asked both about the Turtles meeting Spider-man and about Donnie's preference. Now you could say he's forgotten a line that may not be as important to him, but doesn't that in and of itself say something? It says that it could have been a one-off joke or that it wasn't something that was necessarily intrinsic to the character.

To Recap:

Donnie doesn’t always know himself

Donnie is a cringey teen

Donnie is insecure

Donnie has difficulty understanding emotions and himself

Donnie isn’t actually an 'emotionally unavailable bad boy'

Donnie doesn’t actually like the ‘mean’ type

Sources:

Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles episodes:

Mystic Mayhem

Donnie's Gifts

Pizza Pit

Hot Soup: The Game

Shadow of Evil

Donnie vs. Witch Town

The Mutant Menace

Breaking Purple

Turtle-dega Nights: The Ballad of Rat Man

End Game

Repo Mantis

Mascot Melee

Donnie's Gifts

Bug Busters

War and Pizza

Goyles, Goyles, Goyles

Lair Games

Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: The Movie

lactoseintolerentswag's post on Rise Characterizations Pt. 3!!!

skulltrot's Donnie (Rise of the TMNT) | Autism Representation in Media video

Ron Corcillo's tweet from Cartoon Brew's Feb 10, 2024 AMA

Alexithymia | Autistica

earthytzipi's post not understanding why people characterize Donnie has hiding his emotions

hyperfixatinator's post about ROTTMNT Theory: Donatello's Hidden Role

#rottmnt #character analysis #deep dive #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #donatello hamato #rise donnie #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt donnie #cute but mean #emotionally unavailable bad boy #mic drop #donnie's wrong #me

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lizzaneia-elizalde · 8 months

Note

you do historical au right? So how about a Villainess who actually is a regresser but she saw too much hardships in her previous life that this time she's all set on herself (you can add revenge or not if you don't want). A tyrant disguised saw her real self which is extremely kind to general public (she built orphanage, hospital and schools for her people) (she's the heir but got scammed in previous life, so she used all that knowledge to get even more riches with beneficial businesses so she's practically richest aristocrat). She's evil and rude on the looks (because she hates limelight and does all good will anonymously). So yeah. The tyrant is real deal evil and he's obsessed with our Villainess now. Oh dear. What a plight..

Sorry for the request being all over the place, i didn't know how to put it better :(

Yandere! Villain x Regressor! AFAB! Villainess! Reader

Anon, you know how to capture my attention. And the request is comprehensive, don't worry!

Another historical AU for the roster. This time, rather than starting off with the villain, let's start of with the MC/you! (Because most of the time it doesn't really focus on the ML now, does it? Hope you don't mind.)

Yandere! Villain name: Eros

You don't remember how you got here, except for dying by a stupid woman who can't aim for jack shit.

You just got home from a grueling day's work. Always getting ahead of yourself and working yourself to the bone just to please your boss who's a major asshat, and loves when his employees curry favors with him.

It's a dog eats dog world, so you curried favors with him.

You're his favorite employee. Always giving you snacks and an extra day for your vacations. But that meant working harder than what's needed. Overtime, going home late, it drained you. But hey, it's worth it.

Yet, this wouldn't happen, and you would still be living like a young princess if it weren't for the damn mistress your fiance, the crown prince, has.

Elysia, a daughter of the baron, spent the night with the crown prince, Yuno. Earning the affection of the prince since...

Actually, you don't remember how Yuno became infatuated with Elysia.

Is the fuck really that good that Yuno neglected his fiancee?

And you, the daughter of the second Ducal household (who's not related to the royal family, of course) was blinded by rage and betrayal that you made Elysia's life a living hell.

Erm, why not the crown prince's too, then?

Remembering your past life made your head hurt. From the cliche love story down to the way you were treated made you scream to the oblivion.

After all, after Yuno figured out how you treated Elysia, he made your family kick you out. Powerless against the royal family, they had no choice but to exile you.

You got employed by your employer by then, an eccentric man who spoke of other worlds called 'Earth' and is bringing 'modern day capitalism' here. Whatever that means. But hey, he developed these things called 'cellphones' that made him skyrocket with money.

He's a weirdo, but at least he's easy to please.

But the bitch Elysia "accidentally" blasted light magic to your way, killing you instead of an assassin. Great.

But, then, you're only the minor villainess. The main villain was someone named Eros. The other Ducal household and your father's rival.

As young as 16, he already conquered the ducal household he's in and then, 6 years later, he had wealth rivalring that of the royal family's. Heck, maybe even surpassing it.

"Hello? Where's the checks and balances of this world?" That's what you usually ask yourself.

You never saw him outright, since he's always been so busy. But you clearly remembered when you're in and out of a coma back then after you got struck with the magic, a war broke out due to him.

Fortunately, you regressed into a baby still, so you could avoid being engaged to Yuno, and being involved with Elysia.

Growing up again with your mature mind was weird. Unlike last life, you weren't a brat, but a proper, cold, and an unattainable standard of what a noble woman should be. Well, if you exclude the coldness and the bitchy attitude sometimes.

In all honesty, your family loved you dearly. A clear contrast from your last life. You're a role model, perfect in every way. Beautiful, smart, talented, and shows clear interest in politics and business.

The previous life, you were only a mouth to feed with a pretty face and a political pawn to integrate yourself into the royal family.

And as usual, you got engaged to the crown prince, much to your dismay.

Yuno was easy to read. He doesn't like clingy women, and he likes the chase. He's dumb, and only knows how to spend money.

"Ah, he's worthless."

What did you saw in him in the previous life, really?

Since you were unattainable to Yuno, he became attached to you. Wanting to conquer you.

And you always returned his advances with a flick of your fan and covering your face with a glare with your sharp eyes.

You're the thorned Rose of the Kingdom. Beautiful, yet prickly. It brought you to the limelight, but also, not. Due to you being closed off, news of you rarely get out.

So in the free time you had, you always disguised yourself with your dark magic and filled up your own coffers with the help of your knowledge of business last life (from your employer.)

You built hospitals, made schooling accessible... You were basically the saintess rather than Elysia.

Oh, did I mention that Elysia, with light magic, was the saintess, and you with dark magic was the prophesied Villainess? It's complicated.

But right now, with Elysia failing to bed Yuno in his crown prince coronation, due to him being only attached to you, you were free to do what you want while thinking of your next plan.

What you didn't know is that a certain pair of crystal blue eyes followed you.

You walked along the street of the outskirts of the Kingdom, inspecting the newly built school.

You just got out of the ducal household and immediately went here after being confronted by Elysia once more, who "accidentally" stumbled into the chateau and into you and Yuno. Can she get more obvious, really?

You never used your dark magic here in the outskirts since you felt safe in the people's arms. They never judged you, nor used you for your money. They're just glad more and more accessible facilities are being erected by the young lady.

While walking around, you got into the councilor's office who's busy with enrolling the children. He's the chief of the town, and is one of the few people who graduated fully back in the capital.

He graciously accepted the position of being the councilor after you approached him, since you genuinely wanted to help the outskirts.

You saw children happily playing around while the parents lined up, excitedly talking to one another.

When they saw you, they immediately curtsied and said hi.

"My lady! Hello!"

G-greetings my lady..."

"Oh my stars! It's the lady!"

"Look over here, my lady!"

You giggled and decided to mingle with them more, talking about mundane things in life and what other facilities can you put here.

"Okay, so a shopping center, huh? Okay, that's noted. Also, I think a gymnasium would work well also, so that there will be a place where all of you can have meetings, and also have children play."

They all excitedly nodded and bid you goodbye as you went out.

You felt like yourself here in the outskirts.

Maybe you can convince your father to give you this part of the territory, and your brother can manage the main household?

Your thoughts were interrupted by children pulling your skirt to play, cheekily grinning and playfully pushing a ball up to your arms. You grinned and chased them around, roaring loudly like a monster and pretending like you're a dragon.

The giggles and screams of delight of the children filled the lively streets, along the chatter of the townspeople.

"Sir? Are you okay? What are you looking at?"

"..."

Eros' eyes widened, then softened as he saw you, chasing the children around, playing with them and not minding the dirt clinging to your outfit.

He gulped, suddenly feeling his heartrate pick up as he cleared his throat. Red flushed his cheeks, as foreign yet also the familiar feeling of infatuation filled his heart.

The noise that surrounded him faded into the background, and somehow, everything seems so bright and colorful. All he could see is you, and you, and you...

You...

Beautiful, thorned you.

Eros.

The name itself sends shiver down the spine of people.

Of fear? Love? Or arousal?

He's a man of few words, only letting his actions talk to other people.

Such an otherwordly beauty like him garnered unwanted attention since he was a child.

Other than being extremely handsome, he's also very talented with politics and business, also with physical activities like horse riding and hunting.

Due to this, his mother developed a twisted inferiority complex, and also an almost incestious relationship with him.

She always hurled words that hurt his soul and emotions.

Then she'll hug him while saying sorry.

This cycle would continue on and on until he's 16.

It was supposed to be a joyous day, not until his mother forced himself on him.

Disgust, fear, and rage filled his body that time, and all he remembered is awakening his dark magic and consuming his mother.

After that, he was knocked out cold.

When he woke up, he remembered his past life on Earth.

He's a business man of such a high position, CEO.

He clawed out of his way from poverty. Stealing, investing, selling, he did everything just to get out of the clutches of being a plebian.

And, when he struck gold when his stationery business thrived, his genius made it possible for him to talk to investors and convinced them to invest in his work.

God, he's rich.

And once he reached the age of 24, he's a rich man.

Then he died due to being assassinated by his rival.

With now his previous life in his roster, he became a formidable business man. Eccentric even.

By some weird cheat, he developed cellphones.

Something so revolutionary was first met with skepticism, but it boomed in popularity when his friend, the crown prince Yuno, bought and used it.

it was weird, really. Yuno approached him to employ his ex fiancee in his company and take care of her.

Eros, who didn't mind, employed you.

Sweet, lovable you.

It was funny seeing you struggle to curry favor with him. Not used being the one who had to try to get close with him. The way you struggled to hide a frown when he mentioned over time, the way you hide your disdain when he talks about extra work...

God, you're so cute.

He spoiled you in the best he could do. Extra vacation days, snacks, all he could do without being too obvious.

Then you died.

You... Died.

By the hands of his friend, well, ex-friend's mistress.

Elysia.

That damn bitch doesn't know her place.

Then and there, his eccentricity died down, and all he knows is revenge back then.

You were in and out of coma, and seeing you swim between life and death made his heart roar out in pain.

He felt so helpless seeing you pale and vegetative, something that wasn't you.

So, with a soft promise leaving his lips, he waged war in your honor.

He fought blood, sweat, and tears in your name.

All he could think is you.

All he could see is you.

And as he ignored Yuno's plea, he beheaded Elysia.

The damn bitch raised the notion that dark magic users are evil, despite dark magic being only an another element.

She turned the tides on you.

Why should she live?

Yuno also. He betrayed you.

Once the royal family was dead, he brought your comatose body to the throne, and killed himself with you at the throne.

He made you ingest poison, something that doesn't cause pain to your already pained body.

Meanwhile, he killed himself by striking a sword down to his chest, and to his heart. The very same heart that loved you dearly.

Then he woke up,

a child again.

Back in time.

Getting away from the busy bustle of the ball, you got out to the garden and sighed. Letting the cold air bite into your skin.

Dread filled your heart as you realized once more that Elysia was nowhere to be found, and so did Yuno.

Your nerves got to you and you left the scene, overthinking the worse of the worst.

Did Elysia actually bed Yuno successfully?

Albeit just a bit late?

You covered your mouth, shaking dreadfully. The pain of your last life was getting to you once more. Trauma trembling you to the core.

"My Lady? Are you okay?"

A deep voice broke you out of your reverie. Something so silky, smooth, and familiar.

You turned around, your heart pounding as you saw your employer, Eros. He's dressed in noble clothes, gold, black, and blue.

He looks more uptight and strict this time around. What happened? Why does he look like that?

You never connected the dots, since you thought your employer and Eros were two different people.

But this?

Your heart trembled.

"G-greetings, your lordship." You curtsied, fighting back a frown just like how you did with him last life.

"You're still the same as ever."

"What is it?"

"Oh nothing." Eros waved his hand.

This life, Eros was more brutal than the previous life. He exposed his mother, a pedophile who touched him and stole money from the household, letting her get beheaded by a rusty axe in the middle of the colosseum. After that, he joined the interkingdom war, and won it much earlier than before.

He's basically a warlord. A tyrant to his territory who imposed such strict rules that you doubted yourself if this was the same Eros you knew.

You both silently stood in front of each other before he took off his coat and gently draped it on your shoulders.

"It's cold out here, my lady." He whispered. His long eyelashes fluttering as he blinked.

He inhaled your scent, his lips trembling.

He missed you so much.

His precious rose.

He gently brought your hand to his lips, kissing it softly and lingering there, with his eyes screaming obsession.

His grip was strong yet also loving.

It made you blush.

"My Lady, if my friend, Yuno, hurt you, approach me."

Your eyes widened.

"Approach you?"

Eros smiled. His handsome face blinding you momentarily.

"Yes, i'll help you take revenge."

Eros eyes swiftly looked at the balcony up above.

"Like this."

Eros swiftly dipped you and kissed your lips.

God, you tasted so divine upon his lips.

His tongue delved into your mouth, sweeping and tangling with your much more timid ones. He cupped your cheeks, bringing you impossibly closer to him.

His eyes were glaring at Yuno back at the balcony, who was naked on their bottom half with Elysia, shielding you from the scene.

Yuno's eyes widened, and he hastily dressed up, his eyes boring into Eros', and you.

This life, he'll protect you from pain.

He'll protect you from Yuno and Elysia.

He'll burn down the ground for you.

Just say the word.

---------

Hmm, twist upon twists. I love it. HEHEHEHE

#yandere boyfriend #yandere imagines #yandere male #yandere writing #male yandere x reader #tw yandere #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere fic #yandere drabbles #lizzaneiaelizalde

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prying-pandora666 · 3 months

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Who is Izumi’s Mom? Copium Edition

So we all know that Bryke have refused to confirm who Izumi’s mother is. Even when they released family trees, the conspicuously left Izumi’s mom blank.

So incredibly frustrating!

So since Bryke insists on baiting us and not giving us closure, here’s a dose of copium for all shippers.

First off! Izumi’s name means “spring fountain”. Remember that.

Secondly, she looks like this:

REASONS WHY YOUR SHIP OF CHOICE COULD STILL MAKE SENSE!

Mai - She looks the most like Izumi. She canonically dated Zuko (until they broke up AGAIN). The former comics’ writer believes they will make up. She and Zuko have a history surrounding fountains. Even with all the drama, she remains the most likely candidate.

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Katara - It should be self explanatory why a child named “fountain”, as in water, may be a reference to the one water bender Zuko dueled with most. The two of them clearly developed a connection by the end of the show, and Katara once even offered to heal Zuko’s scar. This one is all but debunked due to Kataang being canon, but it’s still nice to dream! And no one can deny they look great together.

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Jin - Zuko and Jin shared lovely chemistry on their one date. Zuko was even willing to risk getting outed as a firebender in the Earth Kingdom and imprisoned, just to make her smile. This scene is also significant because it involved a fountain. Considering the bulk of Zuko’s redemption happened in the EK and the plot continued into the comics dealing with the blended FN/EK colonies, I can see why this would be a good thematic choice.

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Toph - A rarer pair but one that one storyboard artist snuck in a reference for! Toph and Zuko have a lot in common. They both come from families of status that abused them for their failure to conform. Toph was born blind while Zuko has a disfiguring facial scar that realistically should affect both his vision and his hearing to an extent. Toph also has a friendship with uncle Iroh and was the first member of the Gaang to successfully understand and comfort Zuko as well as she did. Some point out that Zuko’s daughter Izumi has vision problems (like Toph) while Toph’s daughter Lin has a facial scar (like Zuko). The name Kanto, the alleged father of Lin, can also be written with the characters for “crown capital” so some speculate it’s an alias for Zuko. Spring fountain could be a reference both to the Earth element’s season of spring as well as to a volcano, which is like a fountain combining fire and earth. This scene is the most telling, with two doves representing Zuko and Toph. When Zuko walks away from Toph, the two doves kiss, signifying that perhaps a romance between them is destined for the future. Luckily, Toph knows how to listen and wait. Everything that applies to Jin about making peace with the EK applies even more to Toph since she’s actually from a noble house.

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Suki - A bit of a wild card since she’s dating Sokka! But the comics showed Zuko and Suki getting much closer. When no one else was on Zuko’s side during the conflict in the colonies, and even Mai dumped him over his desperate visits to Ozai, Suki stayed by Zuko’s side. She never lost faith in him and tried her best to be there for him. The two have clearly developed a close friendship and bond of trust. Some even see it as romantic, which spells bad news for our boy Sokka. However, seeing as the book Legacy implies Sokka and Suki broke up, perhaps Zuki shippers have more evidence to stand on than originally thought! Everything that applies to Jin about making peace with the EK would also apply, since Suki is also from the EK. Perhaps she could fan the flames of his passion?

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Sokka - Okay we all know it’s not going to happen but they’re really cute and I get it. The fountain claim applies to Sokka same as it does Katara! Hey there’s always a chance! Korrasami proved that!

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Ty Lee - Not a lot to go off here but it’s undeniable that the two have a weird, unspoken tension. Why is Zuko quietly beefing with his sister’s bff? It’s never explained. Something is definitely going on there! We just don’t know what it is. In the comics, Zuko does lament not playing with Ty Lee and the other girls more as a kid.

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Azula - I mean… okay I get it. The features that Izumi has in common with Mai, she also has in common with Zuko. So it’s not impossible to see why some would think she looks like Azula too. But can we please not make ATLA into Game of Thrones? This certainly isn’t helping:

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Jet - He’s dead now so it’s not possible. But did Jet actually have a thing for Zuko? You know… it was really unclear.

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#atla #avatar the last airbender #avatar #Zuko #maiko #zutara #toko #zutoph #Jinko #zukka #Zuki #ty zuko #Jetko

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hobie-enthusiast · 1 year

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WITHOUT YOU !

— ‘hobie × reader angst where the reader doesn't know that hobie is spider punk and doing all these multiverse missions and is hurt by hobie having to flake out and miss dates or hang outs, hobie wants to reveal who they are but maybe saw a multiverse where that didn't end well?’

— hobie brown x gn!reader

— lots of angst, hurt/comfort, happy ending, little blurbs and then a longer one

— duty calls hobie at the worst times, and you start to get weary of how he’s acting

— i had an inner debate with myself on ‘should i write a happy ending or sad ending’ so i compromised and did a poll (directly reuploaded from my old acc @/hobieenthusiast)

The first time Hobie Brown skipped out was three months into your relationship.

He wanted to take you to a local diner his friend owned. Hobie always wanted to support his fellow anarchists and friends in however they battle the corrupt world. And what better way than bringing his partner on a lovely date there?

He promised to meet you there. That he had something to take care of before he came.

You assumed maybe he was bringing a gift or had to change at his apartment beforehand. You know it would be okay, Hobie wouldn’t flake. Right?

Right?

You stood outside the diner in the cold air, waiting for Hobie to arrive. You had some paper flowers you created in your hand to give to him when he arrived (since of course you couldn't ever buy into capitalism). He was already about five minutes late at that point, but surely he had his reasons.

Five minutes turned into ten. Then ten to an hour. You went inside at some point to sit and wait for him, asking for some water and a coffee for when he got there. But after two hours, you lost any hope. You stood, paying for the undrunk coffee and tipping the waiter for dealing with you not ordering food.

Wasn't like you were hungry anyway.

As you were walking back to your apartment, you finally got a call from him. The adorable photo of the two of you along with 'Hobes <3' popped up, and you could only sigh as you picked up.

"Hobie?" You call out, holding the phone to your ear.

"[Name]!" He spoke on the other end, his voice sounding a little more upset and out of breath. "Sweetheart, 'm so sorry-"

You cut him off, shivering slightly. "Where were you? Actually, scratch that. Where are you?"

“Somethin’ came up, darlin’. ‘m so sorry. I called as soon as I could.”

He sounded genuine in his apology. You sighed, rubbing your eyes and keeping quiet for a little while. This stung, for sure. But if it was out of his control, could you blame him?

Hobie sighed on the other end. “I’ll make it up to ya, a’right? I’ll come ‘round tomorrow, we’ll go then, promise. That a’right, sweetheart?”

“Yeah..” You respond, taking a deep breath. “Yeah that’s good. I’ll see you tomorrow, Hobes.”

You both say goodbye and hang up soon after. Hobie stayed true to his word and came by the next day with some hand-made gifts to apologize, taking you out to the diner. It turned out okay, you were grateful for that much. Surely that was a one time thing.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

The second time Hobie Brown skipped out was on your four month anniversary.

The two of you agreed to not do much, just stay in and hang out. He even agreed to teach you some guitar! To say you were excited was an understatement.

He promised to come over around seven and spend the night. Hobie even wanted to make dinner together. Something you were again looking forward to.

His promise was genuine, so surely him being late wasn’t anything to worry about, right?

Right?

You put on a record onto your record player, one of the shared favourites between you and Hobie, playing the music throughout the apartment. You sat on your couch, fiddling with some of the pins Hobie gifted you as you awaited his arrival.

Eight pm. Hobie still hadn’t shown up.

You shot him a quick text, asking where he was. No reply. Surely everything was okay. He was Hobie Brown, he knew how to take care of himself. With little worry in your mind, you focused on starting dinner, hoping Hobie wouldn’t mind.

Nine pm. No sign of Hobie.

You finished making food, setting a plate aside in the microwave as you ate your portion in silence. The music accompanied you, but not like Hobie does.

Ten pm. Hobie Brown was nowhere around.

You could only sigh in frustration, upset he flaked, again. No call this time either. You had sent close to six texts within those three hours, none of which were responded to. You were upset, that much was certain.

A knock on your door startled you. You rush over, opening it quickly.

Hobie stood on the other side, clutching his arm with his hand covered in blood. Some cuts and bruises littered his face.

“Hobes, oh my- get in here.” You say in worry, bringing him in and guiding him to your couch. “Sit.. hold on please just.. crap..”

You rush to grab some medical supplies, lying them down in front of him. You take a towel, soak in some hydrogen peroxide, raising it to his arm. Your hand shakes as you make contact with Hobie’s skin, but his hand stops you.

“Aye, look here..” He says quietly, looking down at you. “You’re shakin’. Deep breaths, ‘right? ‘m totally fine.”

“But you aren’t! You blow me off then show up three hours later all beaten up! You can’t do that Hobie!”

He’s silent as you shakily clean him up. He could tell you were upset, and he felt guilty for being the cause. This was yet another instance out of his control, but Hobie didn’t feel it was right to excuse himself while you were so nervous.

You finish cleaning and bandaging before sighing. “I’m sorry I just.. you scared me, Hobes.”

“I know, sweetheart..” He responds, pulling you into a tight hug. “Won’ happen again. Promise.”

Funny enough, that’s what he said the first time.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

The third, fourth, and fifth times Hobie Brown flaked were enough to make you pissed.

He continued to promise he couldn’t flake again. He said he wouldn’t get hurt and that he would show up. That he wouldn’t be late.

Lies.

You sat on the rooftop of your apartment building, legs dangling over the edge. You knew Hobie would come. You said it was urgent. That you had to talk.

“Careful. Don’t needya fallin’ down.”

You chuckle at the familiar voice. Hobie comes to sit next to you, noticing the somber expression you’re wearing.

He sighed, looking over the building. “Everythin’ alright?”

“As much as I want to say yes, no.” You respond, not daring to look at Hobie’s expression.

There was a heavy silence that hung between you two for a little while. He knew what this was about, but he had no intention of telling you the answer.

—

Hobie let out a small breath, sending the anomaly back to HQ. This one put up a fight, that was certain. And that universe’s Spider-man? Well he was dealing with another villain not too far from there.

He decided to swing over in case anything went wrong, settling for observing for now. But something about the enemy did catch his ear.

He kept talking about how he was going to make Spider-man pay, they were sworn enemies, blah blah the same spiel like always. But this one was saying.. more than that.

‘You’re gonna pay for keeping [Name] from me!’

‘How do you even know ‘em?’

‘Oh Spider-man, I know all. Just like how I know you revealed your identity to them. Wrong move, Spider-man. Or should I say, Hobie Brown?’

Of course Hobie knew this wasn’t his universe, but hearing it almost felt like an out-of-body experience. He watched as the fight raged on, even seeing this universe’s you suspended on the top of a clock tower.

He watched the moment go on. Watched as this Hobie Brown stopped the enemy, fixed any falling pieces, then went to save his you. But he didn’t make it. The clock tower piece snapped from damage, releasing the hold it had on his you.

Hobie couldn’t watch anymore. He swung away from the scene, far as possible, before taking off his mask with a heavy sigh.

He was debating with himself for so long. He owed it to you to tell you about his identity. He knew that. But after seeing that.. he wasn’t too sure he truly could.

His heart was heavy as he pulled out his phone, seeing a dozen texts from you asking where he was. Hobie felt so guilty, keeping this secret.

But he had a duty to protect you, even if that means hiding it.

—

“What’s going on with you?” You ask, drawing your knees to your chest. “You continue to flake on our dates and hang-outs. Your bandmates have said you don’t come to rehearsals. And you randomly show up hurt or worse. I can’t understand what’s happening.”

Hobie sighed. “I know. Haven’ been very present. ‘m sorry.”

You shake your head. “I’m not looking for an apology.” You say, glancing at him. “I’m looking for an explanation.”

“Well..”

Hobie stops his words, unable to continue. It’s like he’s back in that moment when he witnessed your death. Well.. other universe you. But it still stung the same. Would that be the consequence if he told you who he really was?

He knows Spider-man can’t save everyone. So what does he do?

“Can’t tell ya..” Hobie finally says, looking out onto the city. It was always so beautiful at night. “‘s for your safety.”

“My safety? Hobie you can’t be serious.” You say, a sad expression crossing your face.

He shakes his head in turn. “I just.. need time. I gotta make sure ‘s safe to tell ya.”

You’re silent as his words, unsure of what to do. You trusted Hobie, you truly did. But this was hurting the both of you. That much was obvious.

“Okay..”

You lean your body on Hobie’s arm, taking a deep breath of air. “Take as long as you need. Just.. promise you’ll stay safe. Please.”

Hobie wraps an arm around your shivering body, planting a kiss on your head as he combs through your hair. He’s grateful, oh so grateful, that you understand. This wasn’t easy, he knew that of course. But you were the best person who possibly could understand, even when so in the dark.

“Promise..”

His voice carried into the wind of the night, sealing the words between the two lovers.

#NEW ARTICLE || OUT NOW !!#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown #spider man: across the spider verse #hobie x reader #atsv #atsv hobie #atsv x reader #hobie brown x you #across the spiderverse

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we-stan-cale · 2 months

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I wanted to talk about the side stories

Because @ladyteldra and I got some thoughts I'm incorporating in a fic. We might have thrown some of them out before?

Anyways

His Company (with a capital 'C', it's so well known it's just called The Company) does this

a third organization separate from guilds and the government, the company mediated any issues between the two other organizations in addition to taking care of monster invasions, guild inspections, and government audits among many other things.

His team seriously thought assassins might kidnap him

“…Do you think one of the illegal guilds attacked the team leader-nim’s house?” Agent Jung So Hoon’s voice was slightly shaking from anxiety. “Or maybe an assassin dispatched from overseas abducted the team leader-nim. Ah, I have a bad feeling about this. Doesn’t the team leader-nim live in the outskirts of the city? I’m sure the security there isn’t good either. Should I contact the Team 2 leader?” “Calm down. We will decide after going to the team leader-nim’s house.”

He's low key famous

Kim Rok Soo was quite famous not just in the company, but also throughout the industry and with the government and guilds. Although he had not known the name because this person doesn’t show himself in the media, he was the leader of Team 1, the greatest force in the company, as well as implicitly the leader of the company’s battle agents in the ‘Body.’ Furthermore, even the people in charge of the ‘Head’ were said to be unable to hold in their admiration at Kim Rok Soo’s abilities.

He had 0 mortality, always had a thorough plan, and really helped develop his people's talents

Team 1’s mortality rate was 0% since Kim Rok Soo became team leader. They had also not failed any of the missions they were assigned. Kim Rok Soo was said to come up with a thorough plan and complete the mission under any and all circumstances, even if he was lacking the resources to do so. Furthermore, many people’s abilities developed even further when they were in his team.

His team constantly worried about him

“Now I won’t need to worry about him dying!” His seniors showed their agreement at Agent Cha’s comments and smiles appeared on their faces.

Again a comment on the low casualty rate under his leadership, but also (from someone early after he took over as team leader)

There had been no deaths nor serious injuries on Team 1 since Kim Rok Soo became team leader. Although there were people who received minor injuries, nobody ever had to be hospitalized for longer than a few days because of a serious injury. Instead, the number of scars on Kim Rok Soo’s body continued to increase.

He probably got Instant around then? And was probably overdoing it already.

Choi Han, after getting Choi Jung Soo's memories, said he was able to realize Cale was Kim Rok Soo partly because he acted exactly the same.

So basically, we can picture Cale's time as team leader as, probably, him being exactly the same. Taking risks, overdoing it... But mostly in fighting monsters, doing government audits, and dealing with illegal guilds.

Also, again, he's famous.

And foreign governments may want to kidnap him.

We also know he studied monsters extensively, aided by Record no doubt, so I posit that he's probably the expert on monsters.

Which might be why they want to kidnap him? Not kill...kidnap. He's probably considered, like, a strategic resource or something

#tcf #lcf #trash of the count's family #cale henituse #lout of the count’s family #totcf

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craisinsensation1029 · 4 months

Text

Friction

Hiromi Higuruma

also posted on AO3! :)

fem reader, thigh riding/dry humping, pet names, praise kink

MDNI

Sounds of the maroon couch creaking in the living room drown out the volume of the true crime video playing. It was uploaded from your subscriptions a few hours earlier and you were waiting to watch it with Higuruma once he got home.

He gives you a good life, one where you don't have to worry about anything as trivial as working. The only thing you need to worry about is doing whatever makes your little heart happy, though you aren’t ashamed to admit most of that involves making Higuruma happy. In that way it’s completely symbiotic, you find joy in cooking, cleaning, looking good for and just pleasing him. And how could he not be zealous when he sees that adorable smile on your face after he expresses his gratitude for you.

Alas, being able to take care of you of course means he has to work. It was a drag before, dealing with the conventionality of working to submit to an endless cycle of soul sucking capitalism, but with the light in his life that you are, there really is a rhyme and reason for it all. Who would have known! How else can he receive your sticky lip gloss kisses and caress your body in the finest fabrics available? Motivation was always just a construct for him, but it now has a physical manifestation with you in his life.

Even if that means the occasional late night at the office when he should already be home with his cock that’s hardened to its limit plunged deep inside you, filling you to the absolute brim while your knees are pressed against your chest.

“Needy tonight, aren’t you?” Higuruma mumbles as his hand runs down your back, fingers tapping delicately against the ridges of your spine. The baby blue bralette you're wearing gives his hands full range to graze your skin, soft like a cloud under his touch.

The contrast always drives him a little crazy, his rugged hands roaming over any part of you he can get. Like when he warms your favorite honey scented lotion in the palms of his hands to massage into your skin. You'd always joke with him, telling him if he rubbed his hands together too fast he may start a fire, teasing that the two of you could never go camping because Smokey Bear would not be impressed with the lack of regard for the trees. He’d always laugh it off, telling you that these were the hands of a hardworking man as he kneaded the lotion into your skin with care while soft whimpers leave your lips and you breathlessly say, 'feels s'good'.

A breathless whimper much like the one that's being muffled into his neck right now as you inhale the rich eucalyptus scent of his cologne along with the natural musk of his skin that always makes your stomach flip as your arms wrap more tightly around him. “Go on angel, make your pussy feel good,” he encourages, deep baritone shaking you to your core. “I know you can do it. Already doing so well, want you to make a mess all over me.”

His words only make another whimper fall from your lips as you continue grinding against the firm muscle of his thigh, chest pressed closely against his own as you work your way up to your orgasm.

“God, I know that feels good.” His cock is achingly hard, throbbing every time your hips move forward and create more wet spots against the material of his slacks, but he can’t bring himself to stop you. How can he with the sounds that you’re making, the ones he knows you make when you’re in too much bliss to even speak. He glances down at his swollen length pressing against the zipper of his pants, watching it jump as your hips drag against the musculature of his thigh once more, movement a little less controlled this time. Every breathy pant of yours against his neck only makes his cock throb harder, and his free hand begins to rub himself, hissing as he does. “Keep using me, angel. Fuck, you always make me so fucking hard. Make yourself come, I need to hear you.”

He didn’t expect to be ambushed by you when he arrived home, but that was always welcome. He was a bit tired, a feeling not unnatural when a majority of his days were spent in an office surrounded by people he didn’t want to be around—especially when he was there longer than he needed to be, but coming home to you always made the days worth it.

So when you pulled him on the couch wearing nothing but that cute little bralette and strips of fabric that are somehow classified as underwear (who is he kidding though, he loves seeing your cheeks on full display any chance he gets), telling him how much you missed him today and you needed him, of course he was going to soothe you anyway you wanted.

He didn’t think his thigh was what you wanted, but who is he to say no to you? He’s used to your greed for his cock, your desire for him to be balls deep and kissing the tip of your cervix, but perhaps your insatiability has reached a new height. He was expecting for you to reach for his belt buckle once you comfortably straddled him, but raised an eyebrow you simply proceeded to hump his right thigh, rolling your hips forward. He’s more than delighted to make you come in any way possible though, that’s for sure.

“Might even finish just like this,” he murmurs, hypnotized by the movements of your hips. He can feel precome leaking from his slit as he watches your alternating movements, gyrations in small circles and rutting back and forth. “Come on angel, let me hear you, tell me how good this is making your little pussy feel.”

“R-really good,” you stumble out, voice muffled into his neck. “J-just s’good.” There isn’t a coherent thought in your brain as your hips continue their rhythm, lips brushing against the sensitive spot of his neck as one of your manicured hands thread through the raven hairs at his nape. He moans feeling your hot tongue against his pulse point, the vibration only making your panties flood more. His slacks are going to be absolutely ruined after this, but to say he cares would be like saying the sun does not rise and set every day.

“Fuck.” His hand moves down your back and lands on your hip, still letting you control the pace but squeezing at the flesh there. Touching you is just always so intoxicating, watching your skin mold under his touch. Meanwhile one of your hands unlatches from his neck and moves down the front plane of his body, stroking his defined chest, ghosting over the chest hairs exposed on the undone buttons. Your hands reach lower down, feeling the rigid heat of his erection. “Touch me, angel, touch me.”

Still chasing after your own orgasm as you rut against his thigh, forehead beginning to slick with sweat, you let your hand rub over his length, feeling it throb with every motion of your hips. “That’s all yours,” he grits out, hips bucking up slightly. “All this cock is for you, even if you rather use something else to get off right now,” he chuckles, though it’s a bit strained, his own arousal clouding his mind. “But you like that, huh? Using any part of me to make yourself come?”

It’s not even cock drunk you’re feeling. Is being thigh drunk a thing? Maybe someone should work on coining a term for that because you can’t even dignify him with an answer. You aren’t even sure what you murmur out in response, continuing to grind your hips against him, striving for the fruits of your wanton behavior. It just feels so good having a different kind of thickness between your thighs, dragging your wet folds along him in a way that’s just so primal. Testing out the different kinds of motion as your cunt pleads for more friction.

Only when he flexes his strong thigh, the motion deliciously stimulating your clit does a thought come to your brain.

It’s a selfish thought, one that makes your hand move from his cock and back around his neck, oh so close to having that knot that’s been forming in your belly become lax and unwind.

More, you need more.

“Do that again, ‘Romi,” you pant, rutting your hips again.

“Do what?” He knows exactly what he’s doing, flexing his thigh again as you will your hips to keep moving. “That, angel? That’s what you need from me?”

A pathetic whine is buried into his neck once more when your hips move more ferociously. The hand on your hip moves back up your spine, his palm firmly grabbing at the back of your neck. He’s met with your mouth agape, lids fluttering shut as your body is wracking with small tremors. “Look so pretty when you’re about to come for me,” he murmurs, eyes appraising the column of your neck as he lets his tongue lick a stripe from the base all the way up to your chin. “Look even prettier when you’re going to come on me,” he taunts, licking another lewd stripe against your neck, the taste of honeysuckle and passionfruit with the saltiness of your sweat making his cock throb again. “C’mon angel, know you’re so close, let go for me.

The steady movements of your hips are long forgotten as his greedy tongue continues to relish in the sweet and tangy taste of your skin. His message is clear, keep your head up. You tilt your head back slightly to give his tongue free reign as his hand moves back down to your hip, aiding your movements.

“Hi–ro–romi, fuck.”

“Don’t stop now,” he chides when your hips stop moving, simply to catch your breath from it all. His hand lands a smack on your ass, the sounding echoing throughout the apartment. “You’re already so close, don’t you want me to watch you come?”

“I-I do,” you stumble out in agreement.

This time he bounces his leg, the firmness of his muscled thigh pressing directly against your heat. It makes the mewl, the action sending a jolt up your spine as he does it again, a soft rumble of laughter leaving his lips. “Then you gotta keep going. Gonna feel so good when you come.”

His lips suck an angry red splotch into your neck as his hands squeeze at the flesh of your hips that are moving again. “Can’t believe you’re going to get off on my thigh.” His cock throbs again as he lets out a groan. “You can do it, be a good girl and let me hear you come, I know that pussy is ready to explode all over me.” And surely he knows this, all the tell tale signs on there; your pants, nails digging into his skin, legs tightening around his thigh.

“I know I’m hitting your little clit just right,” he says against your neck, this time being the one with a steady rhythm as he bounces his leg. “ Come all over me,” he encourages once more. His grip on your hip tightens as he continues to let his leg bounce.

“F-Fuck,” you whimper, arms turning into noodles as you bury your head back into his neck, chest rising and falling as your orgasm coats his slacks. It’s intense, his name and curses falling from your lips as your thighs twitch around his own, walls of your cunt fluttering.

He moves you back only slightly and the slight overstimulation makes you whine as he looks down at the drenched spot on his thigh. His fingers graze over the spot as he lets out a chuckle, his cock throbbing again at the sight. “Good fucking girl.” He inserts the finger into his mouth, the faint taste of your essence coating his taste buds. He nudges your lips apart, letting you taste yourself after, and he can’t help but smile feeling your tongue lapping around his digits. “Now let’s do it again on the other side, what do you say?”

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builtbybrokenbells · 6 months

Text

CAPITAL VICES | SLOTH

Sloth: an excessive laziness or the failure to act and utilize one’s talents

Masterlist

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 16k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f!receiving), oral (m!receiving), face fucking, masturbation (f!receiving), mentions of female masturbation, mentions of sex toys, light bondage play, orgasm denial, impact play, sir kink, praise, degradation, name calling, dom/sub, bratty sub, choking, spanking, lots of dirty talk, mentions of blood, (this is just filthy for the most part tbh), crying, mentions of addiction, drinking, swearing, fluff, sorry if i miss any!!

Merry Christmas from me to you (if ya celebrate)! I sincerely hope you like this as much as I liked writing it. As always, be kind, enjoy, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes! (Very lightly edited) also, if you haven’t yet, check out the playlist i made linked on the Masterlist! Much love 🫶🏻

You cut the power to the element of your stove, giving the contents of the frying pan one last stir before moving it to the side. The sun outside was shining in through the windows, the golden rays powerful as a last ditch attempt to lighten the land before setting for the night. You took a sip from your wine glass as you grabbed the pot of pasta noodles and brought them to the sink to strain. Music was drifting through the air, and the candle burning on the countertop offset the strong smell of the pasta sauce you had just finished cooking. Your hair was still damp from your shower, and light makeup was dusted on your face. You were dressed comfortably, but still took the time to pick out a nice outfit for the occasion. All of the classic telltale signs of romance was lingering in the atmosphere, yet you still had yet to come to terms with the fact.

You were preparing for a date, even if you refused to admit to it.

You brought the pot back to the stove, adding the pasta to your sauce and combining the two. Just as you finished washing your hands to rid yourself from the mess you made, your doorbell rang. With a small sigh of approval, you looked over your work before running to answer the door. You nervously combed through your hair with your fingers, trying to contain your excitement as you flipped the lock and twisted the knob to reveal the body waiting on the other side. Jake stood with a smile on his lips, a bag slung over his shoulder, and a seemingly expensive bottle of wine held in his hand.

“Hi,” You breathed, stepping aside to allow him entry. It had been a few days since seeing him, and you hated to admit to the fact that you had genuinely missed him. The calls and texts were still plentiful, yet his presence in your home was more appreciated than you realized.

“Hi, sweetheart.” He chuckled at your expression, feeling the same way you were feeling. Being apart from you was similar to a withdrawal from substance, yet a million times more powerful. His bed felt so empty that sometimes, he thought that sleeping on the couch would be a better way to spend the night. “I brought wine. I thought if I brought flowers, you might punch me.”

“Good call.” You agreed, taking it from his hand so he could balance the rest of his belongings with ease. “You didn’t have to bring anything, you know.”

“I wanted to.” He said, following you as you walked back to the kitchen. “It’s our first dinner together. It’s a momentous occasion.” You rolled your eyes, placing the bottle next to the one you had already opened in the fridge.

“I told you not to make a big deal out of it. I was cooking already; you’re not special.” You closed the door to the refrigerator and straightened up. As soon as you did, you felt a pair of hands snake around your waist. You hated that your heart sped in reaction to the touch, and you what you hated even more was that you melted into the feeling, leaning back into him and closing your eyes to enjoy the moment.

“Not special?” He hummed, his fingers inching under your shirt and settling on the soft skin just below the fabric. “Don’t hurt my feelings, angel.”

“You’ll survive.” You assured him, turning around to face him. He caught your eye, giving you a smile. “Thanks for coming.” You felt guilty about your harshness, and upon catching sight of his face, your tough exterior seemed to melt away. He was used to your brashness, and it never seemed to phase him. When you turned to face him, his face held so much adoration that it almost seemed like you never insulted him at all.

“Thanks for inviting me.” He leaned down, capturing you in a small kiss. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer in hopes of making up for the days of missing him. You were too stubborn to hug him, feeling that the innocent intimacy was too much, so you only allowed it when his lips were locked with your own. It was a cheat, your way of breaking your own rules, but he abided without argument. When he pulled away, he held you there for a moment, taking a long look over your face in hopes of familiarizing himself with your features again. Although, he did not have to try very hard; the picture of your face was the only thing his mind had been able to formulate since the last time he saw you.

Casual was becoming harder and harder with every day that passed, but neither of you felt the need to address it. You thought that by ignoring the growing feelings, they would die in the same place they blossomed. Your laziness in regards to discussing your relationship had not yet caused an issue, yet the longer you let it go, the more dangerous it became.

“You look nice.” You said, straightening out the collar of his shirt. “Didn’t need to dress up for me.”

“Maybe I wanted to,” he offered, raising a gentle hand to your cheek. His thumb drifted across the smooth skin, sending goosebumps across your whole body. Now that your past was out in the air and he knew more about you than you ever wanted him to, your comfortability had grown immeasurably stronger. Every time he touched you, he seemed to exude even more caution. It was his inconspicuous way of saying he would never touch you in any way other than loving, and you would have chastised him for it if you didn’t like it so much. His gentle hand was the reason you trusted him as much as you did, and it had been so long since you felt a touch so calming that you could not seem to turn him away. “Ever think of that?”

“I did, but I was hoping I wasn’t right.” You teased, feeling your walls of fear slowly crumbling to the ground the longer he looked into your eyes.

“Too bad.” He shrugged, his sympathy barely existing.

“You hungry?” You asked, changing topics so you did not have to focus on his need to impress you.

“Yeah,” he nodded, his eyes flickering to the stove. “Food looks fantastic, but what would you say if I told you that I have something even better in mind?” He raised an eyebrow.

“You’re gonna discredit all of my hard work just for sex?” You teased, but you weren’t completely disinterested in his idea.

“You’re right, how rude of me.” He chuckled. “Let’s eat, sweetheart.” He leaned down, giving you another quick kiss before parting from you. You took to the stove, grabbing the plates you had set out before he arrived. “Anything I can help with?” He watched as you prepared the food for both of you.

“You can sit at the table so you’re not in my way?” You offered, giving him a small smile as you looked back over your shoulder.

“My apologies; didn’t realize how strict your kitchen rules were.” He laughed, but adhered to your request and took a seat at the table. Within a few moments, you brought both plates over and sat them down in front of your respective seats. Then, you filled up a second wine glass and returned back to the table. You placed one in front of him before taking a seat yourself. “Would it be too much to say that I missed you?” He asked, now especially careful to tread lightly when it came to your boundaries. After your confessional in his car the night you met his brothers, he was even more terrified of saying or doing the wrong thing and in turn, driving you away. Although denial was your most favourite pastime, you failed to see that being so fearful of losing each other was the furthest thing from casual that you could get.

“I’ll allow it, but only because I missed you too.” You chuckled, sipping at your wine.

“This is delicious, by the way.” He noted.

“Thanks. You’ve been too busy to come and see me, so I figured I had to impress you to make sure you’re not forgetting about me.” You teased.

“Like I said before, angel, forgetting you has never been my intent. In truth, it’s never really been an option.” He assured you, catching your eye so you could see the sincerity in his gaze.

“Would it be selfish of me to say that I’m glad for that?” You phrased your question similar to how he asked you his own just minutes before.

“No,” he shook his head “I’d feel the same if it were the other way around.” You smiled at his words, burying your face in your wine glass to hide the rosiness of your cheeks. “And I wasn’t too busy for you; life just gets crazy sometimes.”

“I know, I’m only teasing.” You promised. “How’s work going?”

“Good, we just finished up writing the last touches on the album. Think next week we’re going to start recording.”

“Exciting.” You hummed. “I think maybe it’s time I listened to some of your music, since we’re friends and all.” You laughed nervously, embarrassed that you’d known him for weeks and had yet to hear him play. It was your way of keeping the barrier between you, ensuring that your lives didn’t intertwine too delicately, but it was long overdue. You were putting off the inevitable, and listening to a song he wrote did not equate to marriage, even if you previously thought so.

“Whenever you want.” He smiled. He didn’t want to push it on you, and he was more than willing to wait until you were ready. As much as he’d like to play all day for you, he would only enjoy it if you were enjoying it, too. “How’s work for you?”

“Oh, the same.” You shrugged. “Did another wedding, a maternity, and a first birthday party.” You listed. “I wasn’t going to do the birthday party, but babies are just too cute to refuse, especially when they get their hands on their little birthday cake.” You laughed. He cocked his head to the side ever so slightly, watching you with curiosity. He didn't peg you for someone to go crazy over babies, yet he found it oddly fitting. “What?” You asked, noticing his change in expression. “I like kids, but it doesn’t mean I want any.”

“Never said there was anything wrong with it,” he defended “just took me by surprise is all.” You shifted in your seat, nervous that he was reading too much into the simple statement. “I’d like to see some of your work, if you’re ever willing.”

“Maybe.” You offered, both of you knowing that it was unlikely that you ever would. The rest of the meal was shared in silence, but it was not uncomfortable for either of you. You didn’t know how to carry on the conversation, and he was just happy to be with you. When you were both finished eating, you cleared the table and placed the dirty dishes in the sink. Before you could turn around, you felt the same familiar pair of hands on your hips, jumping at the suddenness of his actions. He leaned down, pressing his lips into the skin just below your ear with great caution. A shiver ran down your spine at the feeling, and your eyes fluttered closed at the bliss that came along with it.

“Thank you.” He whispered, his lips ghosting over any available inch of you.

“You’re welcome.” You responded, resting your hands over his which he had slid to your stomach. He pulled you in to him a little further, another subtle way of hugging you without making it into a grand show of affection.

“Interested in dessert, by any chance?” He purred, his teeth sinking into your earlobe. You couldn’t help but smile at him, knowing that dinner was nothing short of torture to him after going so long without you.

“Can’t wait to get me in bed?” You teased, but your body was betraying you. As his fingers danced over your skin, you let out a shaky breath. You missed him just as much as he missed you, and you were eager to get his clothes off, too.

“I’ve waited long enough, don’t you think?” His fingers dipped below the waistband of your leggings, settling on the elastic of your underwear but advancing no further until you gave him permission.

“I think you can wait a little longer,” you did not believe that either of you could, yet you couldn’t help but try your best to piss him off. “I have to do the dishes, Jacob.” There was something so compelling about the fire in his eye when you misbehaved, and you were searching for it like a lost child looking for a place to call home.

“I don’t think I can, angel.” His fingers slipped even further down, now resting contently underneath all layers of clothing. “I’ve been thinking about bending you over this countertop all fucking week.” He said, leaning forward slightly to lock you in place. You tried your best to cover it, but your breath hitched in your throat at the thought of the vulgarity. You couldn’t see him, but you knew there was a smirk on his lips from the reaction. “From the sound of it, you have been, too.” Your eyes fluttered closed, your mind focusing on the feeling of his fingers so close to your heat. You were aching for relief, and he’d barely even touched you. Your body needed him so desperately that not even you could comprehend it. “Right?” He pressed further, hoping for a verbal response.

“Yes, sir.” You whispered, hoping he would continue on instead of teasing you. In truth, what he guessed did not even come close to the truth of how much you’d been thinking of him. It was more than just a passing thought of sex in the kitchen, or a night spent tangled up in each other. Every time you let your mind wander, it ended up in a grotesque picture of him taking you as he pleased, and it was not limited to the kitchen. Every time your eyes fell upon a surface in your house, you could picture the two of you together, cementing memories of sin until the end of time. He hadn’t left your mind once since the last time you were in his company, and dinner was a boring formality to bridge the gap between reuiniting and having him in every way you dreamed of in the passing days.

Your need for him was filthy, concupiscent and lacking any moral will. The devil had completely overtaken you, and you were so blind to his evil that you tricked yourself into believing you were happy to be chosen by him.

“Tell me how much you missed me, angel.” He ordered, finally moving his middle finger to your cunt. The touch was gentle, barely noticeable, yet it had enough strength to bring you to your knees. He ran the digit through your pooling arousal, trailing it up to your clit where he began tracing small, featherlight circles. His order was partially because he wanted to make you suffer, knowing that after so many days, it would be difficult for you to form any thoughts while he was touching you. A bigger part of him needed to hear it, because the desire to know he was needed by you was suffocating him.

“So much, Jake.” You whimpered, praying to a god that you were not even sure existed. If there was anything holy in the world, you were sure it would have stricken down any amount of evil, especially one as large as Jake possessed. Then again, you feared that he had too much power for any entity to control, feeding your fear of his devilish nature even further. “I thought about this every night.”

“You poor little thing,” he crooned, sympathy barely existing within him. “All alone with nobody here to take care of you.” His touch grew stronger, making your legs quiver underneath the weight of your body. “What did you do without me here?” His question, although seemingly simple, was opening the door to a lifetime of humiliation. He wanted to hear every dirty thing you got up to with only a picture of him in your mind. “I want to hear all about it, angel.” You could feel his erection pressing into your ass, noticing him growing more needy by the second.

As much as he loved to pretend he was in charge, he could never seem to harness enough strength to control his need for you.

Even if you didn’t know it, you were the sole holder of the power; you held the reins, and he was willing to go to the ends of the earth to please you.

“I bet you would.” You huffed, trying your best not to succumb to the pleasure his curious fingers were granting you. You lowered your shaking hands into the scalding water, feeling defeat fill you as you realized that not even the burn of the heat could overpower the godless man who was so keen on making you suffer. “I’m a little busy at the moment, though.”

“I would, and I will.” He corrected, unwilling to take any argument from you. “You can do your dishes, but I’m going to have my fun, sweetheart. You should know better by now.”

“I should,” you muttered, trying not to give in to the temptation of him. It was so much more fun to tease him, and you had committed yourself to the task since the very beginning. “Are you trying to show off? Upset that I’d rather do the dishes than have sex with you?” He’d grown so used to your antics that the insult did not even phase him. Instead, he let out a low chuckle as he pulled down the waistband of your pants with his free hand, settling it just below your ass.

“I don’t think you’re telling the truth, baby.” He called your bluff, his middle finger still focused intently on your clit. “She’s telling me everything I need to know.” A rush of emotion settled in the pit of your stomach, still finding his obscenity shocking, even if it was incredibly hot. “Now, answer the fucking question.” His tone was sharp, but not malicious. Yet, anyway. You knew if you played his game, you would reap the rewards. If you did what you so badly wanted to and mocked his authority, the consequences would be dire. You bit down on your lip, holding back a whimper begging to escape as you placed a clean plate on the rack to dry. The lack of clothing allowed for more freedom, and he was using it to his advantage. “Not talking tonight?” He questioned. “That’s new for you.”

“I was always told that if I didn’t have anything nice to say, I shouldn’t say anything at all.” You said through gritted teeth, your persistence prying another laugh from him.

“You’re such a brat, sometimes.” He let out a disapproving tsk, leaning in closer so his lips were resting on your ear. “Am I going to have to do all of the talking for you?” Instead of responding, you continued to wash the silverware as if you were completely alone in the home and the touch of his hand was not driving you to the brink of insanity. “Are you embarrassed, angel? Ashamed of all of the dirty things you did while wishing I was here with you?” You let out a scoff, but did not feed into his tyrant any further. “What was it, sweetheart? What did you use when you couldn’t get me out of your head? Your fingers?” He asked, his breath warm on your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Did you lay in bed, nestled between all of those pillows?” His tone grew stronger with every word he spoke, his own desperation clear despite his commitment to the facade. “You probably put some music on, just something to listen to while you closed your eyes and pretended it was my hands touching you, instead.” His voice was low, laced with desire at the thought of your fingers dancing through your arousal caused by the memory of him. “Classic, gets the job done, but I don't think that’s what you got up to.” He debated his own words, smiling ever so slightly against you.

His intent was to drive you mad, and if there was one thing you knew about Jake, it was that he would die before he would ever surrender.

“Or maybe you went digging around in that box underneath your bed,” he theorized “you know, the one you only let me bring out when you’re really feeling adventurous.” He reminded you as if you did not know exactly which box he was speaking of. “Is it because you’d rather use it when you’re alone? Is it just there to do all of the work when I can’t be here to do it myself?” Your breath caught in your throat as his lips landed on the sensitive skin just under your ear. “That sounds more like it…” he trailed off, losing himself in the picture of a vibrator clutched in your hand and his name woven so delicately on your lips. “I bet you start slow, wanting to draw it out as long as possible to pass the time until I can come over, but you get so needy so quickly. I know that vibrator spends most of its time on the highest setting, but you’re such a little whore that you just can’t get enough and it still doesn’t do it for you.”

You could not hide the moan that fought its way to the surface, breaking through the air and effectively proving his point. You wanted him more than even he knew, but you were just too damn stubborn to admit it.

“Or do you spend your time in the shower, the hot water keeping you warm and the detachable shower head doing more than that little toy could ever handle?” He slowly sunk to his knees, his mouth watering at the thought of tasting you again. “I notice, sweetheart, and I know you put that there for a reason.” Just before he was eye-level with your cunt, with a bit of force, he pushed your top half down towards the counter. “So what is it? How have you been taking care of yourself without me here to help?” You were so lost in the moment that you barely registered his question, already thinking of the euphoria he would give you with help from the unholy spirit that graced his tongue. “Or was it all three?” He asked, his tone telling you that the revelation brought him to a moment of enlightenment. “You tried it all, but you just couldn’t seem to find anything that could replace me. Does that sound right to you?”

“Yes,” you whimpered, finally giving in to his power. It was too strong to resist, and you were surprised you’d made it so far.

“Yes, what?” He growled, happy to hear you speak, yet displeased with the time it took for you to answer.

“Yes, sir.” You let out a shaky breath. “I tried it all, but it didn’t even come close to how good you make me feel.”

“Now you want to be good for me, hmm?” He taunted, knowing how badly you wanted him. “I know you can listen, angel. I don’t know why you try so hard to be so disrespectful.”

“M’sorry, Jake.” You pleaded, almost regretful for your standoffish remarks. You were willing to give him anything he wanted in hopes he would be kind to you.

“You’re not sorry, sweetheart.” He said, shaking his head. “If you want to do the dishes so bad, do them, but you better not stop or I will, too. And you better not cum until I say you can.” You gave a huff of annoyance, knowing that between your position and the things he was waiting to do to you, focusing on anything other than him would be nearly impossible. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” You muttered, mildly irritated yet understanding that the consequences were solely because of your own actions.

“Good,” he said, nearly vibrating with excitement. From the minute he walked in the door, he’d been waiting to see you like this, and now that he had you just how he wanted you, he could not wait any longer. “Better get started, baby. Clocks ticking.” He reminded, pulling your leggings down just a little further. You bit your tongue, holding back any snide remarks as you continued on with your task. As soon as he noticed your hands moving, he sprung to action.

As soon as his tongue connected with your core, the bland household chore was the very last thing on your mind. The heat of his mouth and the precision of his movements made it nearly impossible to thing of anything else. He started slow, running his tongue through you to savour every bit of arousal that he’d been causing you. You let out a low groan, trying your best to keep your hands steady in the water as he tried his best to completely overtake your mind with pleasure. The two of you had been caught in a nasty battle of obstinacy since the very first moment you met, and it bled into every single interaction the two of you had together. He was desperate to prove a point, and you were eager to shoot him down.

“Fuck,” you hissed, your fingers tightening around the wine glass clutched in your hand as a sharp wave of pleasure took over. You used your other hand to support your weight on the counter, your legs already weak and the rest of your body beginning to feel just the same.

His tongue circled your clit, slowly but steadily tightening the knot in your belly. The pit of your stomach was ablaze with a fire that burned just for him, and you knew that he did not have to work very hard to send you over the edge. The days spent apart from him were equal to torture, and you had no idea how you survived before he showed up in your life and graced you with his touch.

Grace was a kind word, and nothing about his actions were graceful, nor were they anything close to kind. He was pure evil that took form in a human being, and every day that passed you were more convinced that you had fallen in lust with the devil reincarnate. He put up a great facade, always making you feel like his intent was coated with love and care, but he was a selfish being who just to happened to unintentionally form a soft spot for you. The devil knows no mercy, but somehow in the time the two of you spent together, it was a trait he had learned to accept.

Now, the devil still knows no mercy, except when it comes to you.

He loved to please himself, but over time, he had to face the harrowing reality that his survival was now dependent on your need for him above anything else. Although neither of you seemed able to shake the fear of connection, the situation you found yourselves in was not as simple or transparent as it once was. Casual sex was long gone, replaced with constant companionship disguised as a careless relationship with no strings attached. Your lives were intricately tied together, and you searched for each other even when you did not realize you were doing so. All you had feared seemed to come true, but you enjoyed Jake’s presence so much that you were yet to confront the truth.

Love surrounded you with every step you took. It was in the second dirty coffee cup that so often took post in your kitchen sink. It was in your dresser drawers, where Jake’s t-shirts lived on occasion when he forgot them, and especially when he neglected to bring them back to his own apartment upon realizing they were still at your house. It was in the longing glances at your phone screen, wondering when he would reply or if you would have to double text, and it was in the phone calls that lasted hours too long when the conversation started with a simple question that could be answered in seconds. It was right there in the room with you now, lingering at the dinner table after your shared meal and blatant in his desperation, his need for you so intense that he could not even wait until you finished cleaning. Although he loved to frame it as another way to torture you, the truth was that he knew he could not wait another second to have you. The position you found yourselves in was not because of his need to tease you, but because he thought he might succumb to death without you.

Love was everywhere, but two people who were so selfishly concerned with their own needs could not possibly fall without failing. Despite the emotion being spoken into every action, the two of you did not know how to love anymore, nor were you willing to try.

As said best by Dio: between the velvet lies, there’s a truth that’s hard as steel.

The lies the two of you were telling yourselves were so smooth and sweet that it made it so easy to ignore the obvious. When the comfort of your avoidance was no longer there to protect you, the blow from the truth would be so strong that it would take your life in an instant.

And just like that, the fourth capital vice took over, leaving your life bleeding with nothing but sinful energy and godless morals. Sloth had become you, only growing stronger as you showcased laziness in regards to your growing feelings. You thought that the longer you avoided the topic, the easier it would be to navigate it, yet as time passed, it only pushed you further into the devils hold. But, the slothful nature of your neglect was not even the worst infraction of your sin; the more pressing act had nothing to do with your lack of discussion of the obvious, but everything to do with your failure to utilize your own talent.

You were fantastic at loving Jake, and he was fantastic at loving you, yet neither of you harnessed the strength and instead pretended like love was your biggest weakness. The two of you loved each other so well that it was astounding, and everyone looking in on your relationship would never question the strength in which you felt or cared for each other. The two of you loved each other better than anyone ever had, but it was easier to pretend you didn’t. So, that’s what you did: you floated through life delicately intertwined with each other, yet refused to acknowledge that your feelings went any further than sexual. It was a dangerous little game, but the thrill was so good that it didn’t matter to you.

You were brough back to reality when a rush of pleasure took over, so strong that the glass in your hand slipped and plummeted back into the sink full of water. You could feel him smiling against you, happy his affect on you was so powerful. Instead of tantalizing you for it, he made it a point to work harder, his tongue moving so precisely that you did not even have the luxury of a single second to recover.

“Jake,” you gasped, your hands shaking as you tried to bargain with him. “I can’t do this.” You knew he was unlikely to give in, but you thought it was worth a try. Instead of a heeding your warning, he hummed against you and if it were even possible, seemed to put even more effort into pleasing you. Your eyes squeezed shut as you let out a shaky breath, now completely ignoring the dirty dishes still sitting in the sink.

He let you enjoy it for a moment, but when he did not hear any progress being made on the unimportant chore, he pulled back from you, slipping his thumb to your clit. “What? You don’t care about the dishes, now?” You could hear the smirk in his voice, but you had no energy to chastise him for his actions. The only thing you were focused on was the burning in your belly that was growing more rapidly than you could possibly imagine.

“I-please, Jake.” You pleaded, insanity knocking on the door and begging to invade your mind.

“Please, what? What do you want, angel?” His thumb grew heavier, his intent to punish you for your disobedience. Your legs quivered and your knees bucked in response to the change. You didn’t know what you wanted from him; stopping was worse than certain death, but you knew you could not continue on with what he was asking of you. “Answer me.” His tone was heavy, authority dripping from his words.

“I can’t do this anymore. I need to cum. I need you.” You gasped, another wave of pleasure shooting through you. There were tears in your eyes, and you were desperate for a release. You were terrified of disobeying him because you knew he would not be likely to give you what you wanted if you did, but you could not continue on with daily tasks as if he was not bestowing you with the utmost of evil with his tongue.

“Maybe you should have thought of that before you decided to be a brat.” His was less than sympathetic, even if he did wish to fuck your over the counter without any further delays. The only thing he loved more than fucking you was watching you quiver under his touch. “So stubborn that you couldn’t even tell me what you got up to while I was gone. I don’t think it’s fair that I have to answer my own questions, sweetheart. Do you?”

“N-no,” you whimpered, barely keeping yourself upright any more. Your body had been infiltrated with every single bit of evil he held in his own, and you no longer belonged to yourself. You were fully at his disposal, willing to tell him whatever he wanted and to do whatever he asked with hopes for a shred of kindness.

“Right,” he crooned, happy that you had both reached the same conclusion. “So you’re going to do as I fucking say, and I don’t want to hear another word from you.” His voice was strong and his words were harsh, yet all it did was turn you on further. You knew that Jake could speak nothing but insults in your direction and you would fall at his feet in response. “Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir.” You choked out the words amidst a moan, knowing that if he continued on at the same pace, you would never be able to stop yourself from reaching an orgasm. With that, he returned his mouth to you, driving you even closer to the edge.

Your vision was blurred with amount pleasure he was bestowing upon you, and your limbs were separate from your mind, yet somehow you managed to continue on washing the last few dishes left in the sink. Despite your growing desperation, you knew Jake well enough to know that it was the only way to get what you wanted. Your fingers barely clasped around the cutlery, but slowly you managed to dwindle the pile down to only a single plate. With relief in sight but just out of reach, you clasped the dish tightly in your hand as you wiped it clean. As you set it in the dish rack, a cry of triumph left your lips. Your orgasm was threatening you further with every second that passed, and in a lapse of judgement, you figured you would not inform him of your intentions to climax until it was too late.

You gripped at the edge of the counter so tightly that your knuckles turned white. Your eyes were crossed with stars and not even a hint of a moan was stuck in your throat. You were too stunned by the pleasure to do anything other than enjoy it, and you feared if your tried to say something, he would catch on to your game with little mercy for you. You weren’t sure if you could handle him pulling away, but you failed to realize that Jake was the last person in the world you could lie to.

A particularly sharp intake of breath told him all he needed to know, and a flood of anger filled him. Instead of letting you know that he caught on to your game, he decided to push you until the very last second. He suctioned his lips around your clit, focusing solely on getting you to the absolute brink of a climax. An involuntary moan filled the air, and you felt the pressure in your belly reach the point of no return. As you braced yourself for the storm waiting to come, suddenly, it stopped.

“No, Jake, please!” The words tore through your chest like a bullet, and the shame that normally came from begging him no longer existed.

“Did you think you’d get away with that?” He chuckled, making a move to stand. Once he was steady on his feet, you turned your head to look up at him, your eyes showing utter devastation at the loss of contact. “I told you not to cum unless I said so, angel. Seems like you still haven’t learned how to listen to me.”

“Jake, please, I’m sorry.” You said, pushing yourself up off the counter. His eyes drifted towards the sink, pleased that you’d managed to do at least one thing he’d asked of you.

“You’re not sorry, sweetheart.” He shook his head, helping you stand upright to join him. Your eyes studied his face, your heart yearning for him to move closer. He looked so angelic in the lowlight of the kitchen, but you knew it was untrue. He was not an angel, nor was he anything holy. The devil was in the details, and the details were something you’d grown incredibly aware of in the time you’d known him. Your arousal was glistening on his lips, which were so soft and inviting. There was a malicious glint in his eye, showcasing his displeasure with your actions, and the curl of his lips portrayed his anger as clear as day.

He was beautiful, and that much was true, but it was not beauty that would be splayed across a portrait hung on a church wall or carefully burned into stained glass; it was the kind of devastating beauty that the bible warns you about, once that’s so inviting and alluring but deadly once it’s within reach.

His hellish nature had become incredibly apparent, and although it was enough to scare the world away, it only seemed to pull you in further.

Perhaps it was not his charm that was drawing you in, but rather your likeness. You were not impressed by his otherworldly charm, but because you had a streak of evil coursing through your veins, too.

“If you’ve forgotten how to listen, maybe I’ve forgotten how to be nice.” He spoke slow, making sure every word hit you with an impact.

“As if you were ever nice in the first place.” You rolled your eyes, irritated and angry at him for denying you the pleasure. He cocked his head to the side, bringing his hand to your face and clasping his fingers around your chin in a tight hold. He guided your head upwards so you could not avoid looking him in the eyes.

“I think you know all about how nice I can be.” He corrected, his tone so dangerously soft that it made your skin crawl. “And you know that I’m only nice when it’s deserved. Do you think you deserve it, angel?” You watched him with a soft gaze, hoping that the lust shining so bright in your eyes would convince him to double back on his word. When he showed no sign of backing down, you shook your head against his hold.

“No, sir.”

“Why not?” He challenged, hoping to hear some sort of repentance in your answer.

Oh, how odd it is for the devil to expect repentance from someone when he has not even done it himself.

In your own devilish way, a spark of mischief flashed in your eyes as you responded with fake apologies.

“I’ve been so bad, sir.” You put on a dramatic display, mocking him as he stood before you with all the power in the world. “I’ve been such a bad girl for you, and bad girls don’t get what they want.” You gave an innocent smile, putting on your best show in hopes of making another clear display of disobedience. He gave you a pointed stare, showing his displeasure with your actions. “I’m so sorry, sir. I’ll do whatever you want to make up for it.” As you finished your sentence, his hand dropped from your chin and moved downwards to rest on your neck. You held his stare, neither of you willing to back down. “Isn’t that what you wanted to hear, sir?” His fingers tightened around your neck, gradually growing more comfortable as the seconds passed.

“My god you talk a lot, sweetheart.” His calm voice sent a shiver down your spine, knowing that the buttons you were pressing could have an explosive reaction. “You really know how to piss me off.” He said it almost as if it was a compliment, and you took it as one, too. To know that you had so much power over him in any way was exhilarating. “Let me tell you how this is going to work, okay?” He watched your face, waiting for another hint of argument in your eye. When it never came, he continued on. “You’re going to do as I say, and if you decide to listen this time, I might let you cum. If want to keep being be a brat, you can get yourself off after I go home. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir.” You choked out, finding it hard to fill your lungs with enough air to speak. You wanted to blame it on his fingers locked around your throat, but you knew it was because his aura was so powerful that it stole the air directly from your lungs. You were fearful that he would not find enough kindness to grant you an orgasm, but you were even more fearful that he would go home without you after the night’s excitement came to an end. You would never admit it to him, but your bed was too empty without him in it, sleeping soundly beside you.

“Good,” he said, tightening his hold just a little more. Your head was beginning to swim with the familiar airy feeling and your chest was burning for a hint of oxygen. “Now get in your fucking room and take your clothes off.” He let go with a little more force than intended, causing you to stumble backwards slightly. His first reaction was to reach out and steady you, and to apologize for the intensity of his actions, but he was trying to prove a point. It was much too easy for him to dote on you, and he had to use all of his willpower to hold back.

You could not ignore the incessant ache between your legs as you made your way to the bedroom, partially from the denial of your orgasm, but mostly because of his authoritative tone and actions. You were a fool for Jake, undeniably in lust with him and willing to do whatever he wanted as long as there was a promise for him to keep touching you. As much as you liked to piss him off, you knew that at the end of the day, you would bend to his will until your bones snapped and you were stuck there permanently. He could get you to do whatever he pleased with a snap of his fingers and only minuscule argument. He was the first man to ever walk the earth that held enough power to bend your own will, and you were not even upset at him for the fact.

Once the door was closed and the two of you were locked in seclusion together, he leaned against the door, arms crossed over his chest as he watched you undress. You caught his eye, the submissive nature fleeing you for a moment once again. He did so good at getting you there, and you did fantastically at pulling yourself out of it.

A match made in heaven was not even close to what the two of you had. In fact, it was better described as a match made in the deepest depths of hell.

You slowly brought your hands to the hem of your shirt, lifting it slowly to give him a small flash of skin. Carefully and with great ease, you pulled the shirt from your body and lifted it over your head, discarding it on the floor. You moved on to your pants, bending down and sliding them off completely. His jaw was hard set as his eyes stayed glued to your figure, wondering what he ever did to deserve the company of such an angel.

But, you were not an angel, and the evil that ran through you was the only match to his own devilish attitude.

You reached behind you, unclasping the hooks of your bra. When you let it fall from your shoulders, you could see his eyes darken even further. You pulled it away from your skin, tossing it on the floor but this time, in the direction of where he was standing. His stare broke from you only for a moment to watch the fabric flutter to the ground.

“Is this your way of saying sorry?” He raised an eyebrow, needing to comment on your half-assed strip-tease.

“Is it working?” You cocked your head to the side, a small smile on your lips. He chuckled at your expression, taking a step towards you. Within seconds, he was in front of you and his hands were on you again, much gentler than they were moments before. He was showing you remorse for his harsh treatment, but he wasn’t willing to give you a verbal apology.

“I think you’re going to have to work a little harder than that.” He said, looking down at your face. You figured as much, but you could help but notice the disappointment weighing on your shoulders. “Any ideas?” He asked.

“I think I have one.” You offered, giving him a real smile. Although his form of punishment was delaying your orgasm, he did not realize just how much pleasing him pleased you. Slowly, you sunk to your knees, not needing to wait for a response. His head fell backwards, a cocky smile stuck on his lips as he looked towards the ceiling. He was thrilled about your idea, and he could not have thought of a better resolution if he tried.

You unbuckled his belt, sliding it through the loops and throwing it down on the floor. He was painfully hard, his zipper begging to bust at the seam from the strain. As if to taunt him, you made the process as slow as possible. He was patient, knowing your game better than you played it. When you freed him from his pants, he helped you pull them off of him. He kicked them to the side, uncaring for any grace, and fixed his gaze on your face.

“Would this show you how sorry I am, sir?” You looked up at him, catching him off guard with an innocent eye. He took in a shark breath, nearly feral from the sight of you on your knees for him.

“That depends on how good of a job you do, angel.” He had no fear about your performance, nor had he ever. He was well aware of the effect you had on him, and he was certain that you could punch him in the face and he would thank you with tears in his eyes. Without another word, you pulled down his boxers, your mouth watering at the thought of making him feel as good as he made you feel.

You moved forward, parting your lips slightly to take him into your mouth. As you did, you let your tongue glide across the tip of his cock, the small movement sending a wave of euphoria through him. His hand reach down, tangling in your hair as he balled it into his fist. You could feel him throbbing in your mouth, knowing immediately how pent up he was from the days spent away from you. Slowly, you took him further, focusing intently until you could feel him hit the back of your throat. He let out a hiss of pleasure, holding himself back from thrusting his hips in response to the feeling. He cared little about pushing you to any limit, and was more concerned with you working to make up for the attitude you had been giving him.

You bobbed your head down on him a few times, not giving him nearly enough relief from your slow pace. He fought the urge to take control, knowing that he could enjoy the moment without pushing you any further just yet. He wanted to see what you were capable of, and from there, he would decide if he could find enough kindness to get you off. He watched you carefully, noticing your eyes flicking towards his face every so often. You were making sure he was watching you, and he was making sure you were watching him. The two of you were intent on being the centre of attention, and there was nobody else in the world you wanted to be watched by.

You pulled back, already finding your face a mess with spit despite barely getting started. You withdrew a long breath, looking up at him with a hopeful expression. “Just like that?” You said, watching his eye twitch ever so slightly at the filthy question.

“Just like that, angel.” He agreed, pushing your head back towards his cock so it was resting on your lips. “Doing such a good job.” The praise sent anothe rush of arousal to your core; you were aching to be touched by him again, but touching him was doing just the same for you. You took him back into your mouth, speeding your movements just enough for him to notice the change. You would never tell him, but you were hoping for him to take control of the situation. Being used by Jake was one of the greatest pleasures you’d ever experienced.

Slowly, his hand applied more pressure on your head, guiding it down further with every move you made. You let out a moan against him, the vibration sending a whole new wave of pleasure through him. “You look so good with my cock in your mouth, angel.” He crooned, looking down at you as his chest heaved with his heavy breathing. “Do you like being my little whore?” The question struck you with the same intensity as a punch to the stomach. You thought you might fall over if not for his hand holding you in place. You locked eyes with him, unable to confirm the answer verbally, but hoping your expression would tell him enough. He took in a long breath, trying to keep his composure at the idea of you being so infatuated with him. He could tell he was right, and it was driving him to insanity.

With that, he gave an aggressive thrust of his hips, keeping your head in place so he didn’t stun you too much with the movement. The quick motion caused a gag to rise in your throat, constricting around him as he held himself there for a moment. Once you recovered from the shock, he began at a steady pace that was much faster than the one you had set. You tried to focus your breathing until he had pleased himself enough to pull away, but it was proving difficult. Once you thought you had caught up to his speed, he began moving your head down on him in time with his hips. Tears were threatening to spill onto your cheeks, and your desire for a breath of air was growing more dire by the second, but you persevered.

“You take it so fucking good.” He hissed, now completely lost in the pleasure he was feeling. The words were nearly too much for you, and you were desperate for relief. You figured that he would not notice if your hand slipped between your legs, or if he did, he would not care. As he fucked your face, you reached your hand between your legs and let your finger trace around your clit. The stimulation was not nearly as much as you needed, nor anything comparable to what he could do for you, but it was something. The small waves of pleasure that you were feeling allowed you to continue on with his brutal pace, distracting you from the roughness and satiating your need for him just a little longer.

You were a fool for thinking you could sneak anything past the devil.

His eyes drifted downwards towards you, taking a moment to fully understand the reality as the haze of sexual energy surrounded him. As his eyes came into focus, they first landed on your face, revelling in your beauty and moved by your likeness to an Angel. Then, his gaze caught your arm that was tucked neatly out of view. He moved his head to the side, a wicked smirk stuck on his lips as he noticed your fingers trying to relieve yourself of the ache that was bothering you so badly. You hadn’t noticed his stare lingering on you, and you did not know he had noticed and taken note of your disobedience yet again. Instead of punishing you, he decided to see how long it would take for you to realize.

Now crazed for a whole new reason, his movements remained steady as he watched you please yourself. He could see it in your face, even as you tried to keep up with his movements. The furrow of your eyebrow was familiar to him, as was the moans you were letting out when the situation permitted it. The expression and the sounds had nothing to do with his cock down your throat, and it had everything to do with the orgasm that was building steadily. He let you go until he knew you were just about to reach the peak, angry at you for not knowing how to listen, but also enthralled in the beauty of your euphoria. Knowing you were so willing to make him feel good, and knowing that it turned you into a mess in turn did the exact same to him.

You took a particularly sharp intake of breath, and he knew his tirade had to come to an end. With great reluctance, he pulled your head off of him, but not even that could distract you from the pleasure threatening to take hold. You were lost in your own world, but he couldn’t seem to find the generosity to allow it.

In a flash, his hand struck your cheek with enough force to shock you back to reality. It wasn’t nearly enough to harm you, nor cause any lasting pain, but it did exactly what he intended for it to do. You looked up at him, eyes wide in terror that you’d been caught in the act. “You were so close, sweetheart.” He gave a small shake of his head, his chest still heaving for a full breath of air. “You almost had me convinced that you could be good for me.”

“I’m sorry, Jake.” You apologized, the words falling from your lips in a mess. This time, the apology was genuine, and you felt terrible about disobeying him. Although it was genuine, it was wholeheartedly for the sake of selfishness.

“I’m the one that should be sorry, angel.” He sighed, motioning with his hand for you stand. “I should know better. You’ll always be a brat,” he continued, making sure you were steady on your feet before he pushed you towards the bed. “But it doesn’t really mattter, because I know exactly how to handle you.”

“Jake please, I promise I’ll be so good for you.” You pleaded, feeling your legs hit the mattress as you tried to back away from him. The fire in his eye was dangerous, but it was enticing. As much as you tried to plead with him to change his mind, you knew you would enjoy whatever he had in store for punishment.

“For some strange reason, I don’t believe you sweetheart.” He chuckled, finding your empty promises comical. He leaned down, grabbing his belt from the floor and taking a long look at it as he straightened up again. “Since you don’t know how to behave, I’ll have to make sure your hands don’t go wandering again. We wouldn’t want you to cum without permission, right?”

“Right,” you muttered, knowing you were fighting a losing battle. Without any further argument, you extended your hands towards him.

“I’ll strike you a deal, just because you’re so damn pretty.” He sighed, unable to resist the urge to coddle you. “If you can be good for me, I’ll consider taking these off.” He looped the leather around your wrists, pulling it until it was tight enough to keep them in place. He didn’t push it any further, too nervous about making it too tight. “Does that sound alright?”

“Yes, sir.” You nodded.

“You better be on your best behaviour angel, because this is your last chance. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir.” You repeated. He let out a hum of appreciation at your obedient tone, happy to hear your change of heart.

“Now we can finish what we started with no interruptions.” He smiled down at you. “On the bed, on your hands and knees.” He ordered, watching as you scrambled to get into position. You knew you’d pushed him a little too far, and he was no longer willing to play nice. “Isn’t it so much easier when you do as your told? No punishments, no arguments… unless that’s what you’re hoping for?” He took a step towards you, watching as you looked up at him as you anticipated his next move. “Is that what you want, angel? You want me to treat you like a whore?” You averted your gaze from his face, instead looking down at his cock that was eye-level with you. It was painfully hard, the tip red and glistening with pre-cum from the excitement that came before your rude interruption. “Do you like it when I punish you, sweetheart?”

“Yes, sir.” You whispered, eager to have him in your mouth again. He let out a low chuckle, amazed at the sight before him. When he first met you that night at the bar, he knew he had a slim chance at ending up in your bed at all. He never expected to have you on your knees for him, willing to do whatever was asked of you just to please him.

“Maybe that’s what’s wrong. I’m not hard enough on you. I let you get away with too much, and now you think you can do whatever you want.” He brought his hand to your cheek, brushing his thumb across the soft, blushed skin. “Do I have to remind you who’s in charge? Will that fix your little attitude problem?”

“No, sir.” You whispered, but it was weak and he knew that you wanted exactly what he said.

“You have to be a little more convincing than that, baby.” He said, the tip of his cock now practically resting on your lips. You were barely able to contain your excitement, thrilled at the idea of pleasing him again. “Maybe that’s what I’ll have to do then, since you don’t seem to have a better solution.”

“Whatever you want, sir.” You breathed, your eyes flickering up towards his face. The crazed look in his eye was paired dangerously with the tensed muscle in his jaw. He was feral for you, and he wasn’t afraid to show it anymore. You did something to him nobody else ever could, and he knew that when your clothes were back on and you were nestled under the covers for the night, that feeling would still be burning in his chest.

He had fallen for you beyond anything he ever believed he could feel, and with every minute that passed, he descended even further into the depths of loving you.

Without any further guidance, you opened your mouth and ran your tongue gently across the sensitive skin. He let out a sharp sigh, shuddering at the feeling. Slowly, you took the head of his cock in your mouth and suctioned your cheeks slightly, moving your head down on him. Worked up from the last time, the sensation was now even more intense and he could not hold back the moan that was stuck in his throat. The sound settled in the pit of your stomach, your arousal nearly too much to handle, now. With the loss of your hands, you feared you might die from your need for him if it was not taken care of soon enough.

“That’s my girl.” He said, his eyes fixated on your face. “I knew you could be good for me.” You hummed against him, showing your appreciation for the praise. Although part of your obedience came from your desire to orgasm, a bigger part was just because he was so hard to deny. Fighting and arguing was in your nature, but when it came down to it, you knew that you would always give him what he wanted. His sweet words and soft touch was better than any drug, and knowing he felt the same about you was exhilarating.

You had fallen just as hard, and you were both playing the devil’s advocate by denouncing love while feeling it so strongly. By reminding each other romance was out of the question, you were hoping that it would open a bigger discussion on the topic. Although actively trying to ignore the obvious, a deeper part of you was desperate to bring it up. You knew that there was no way you were the only one feeling that way, and you were aching to hear him say all of the words you had been too scared to speak.

Jakes hand tangled in your hair again, holding your head steady as he took control once again. His hips moved forward, his pace starting slow so he could work himself back up to the one you were engaging in previously. The ache between your legs was unbearable, but you had no other choice but to persevere. Tears were brimming your eyes again, and every time he moved a gag was begging to be had. He was much closer than he was the last time, and his movements were much sloppier. The moans falling from his lips were the most heavenly thing you’d ever heard, and that was the only thing keeping you going.

“It’s so much more peaceful when you can’t fucking talk.” He growled, the pleasure creeping up on him growing more intense by the second. “Now I know how to shut you up.” If he was not using your mouth for his own sexual pleasure, you would have laughed at his comment. He knew just as well as you did that it was in fact the only reason you weren’t slinging insults at him. You moaned against him, playing into his little power trip in hopes of speeding up the process. Every time his cock hit the back of your throat, you knew he was growing closer to a climax. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it angel?” You let out another noise, your enthusiasm driving him even closer to the edge. “Should just cum in your mouth and leave you here like this. That would teach you a lesson, wouldn’t it angel?” You let out another groan, but this one filled with discontent at his words. You both knew he would never even dream of doing such a thing, but you feared if you didn’t disagree, he might actually follow through with it.

You felt him twitch in your mouth as a slur of curses fell from his lips, but he pulled away with enough time to avoid an orgasm. You looked up at him, your face red and your eyes watering, but he still thought you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever had the pleasure of looking at. The room was a mess of heavy breathing and sexual tension, and neither of you could withstand the pressure any longer. After one last look over your face, he took a step to the side and out of your line of vision. Now, the only thing you could see was your reflection in the mirror placed meticulously by the wall in front of your bed.

His hand drifted over your bare back with a delicate touch after he undressed himself completely. He climbed into bed behind you, looking at your face in the mirror. His fingers gripped your hips as a smile began blossoming on his lips. He’d been waiting for this all night, and now that the moment had arrived, he was nearly vibrating with excitement. “Do you want me to fuck you, angel?” He whispered, his voice barely breaking through the silence.

“Yes, please.” You pleaded, knowing that you were still completely at his mercy. You could not move from your position, nor could you change his mind if he decided to continue torturing you.

“How bad do you want it?” His hand drifted between your legs, his finger finding your clit with ease. You took in a sharp breath at the feeling, already overwhelmed and he had barely even touched you.

“So bad, Jake.” You whimpered, out of your mind with lust for him. You needed him so badly you were delirious at the thought. “Please, baby. I need you.” You watched him through the reflection, seeing his eyes close in bliss at your words.

“How can I say no to you when you say it like that?” He asked, his tone airy and completely clouded with desire for you. He no longer had the willpower to tease you, and it was becoming more apparent by the second. For a moment longer, he let his finger trace over the sensitive bundle of nerves. He moved forward, letting himself rest against your entrance. He listened to the sounds falling from your lips, your relief sending him into a whole new state of mind. He moved his hand away from you, but you didn’t have enough time to mourn the loss before he was pushing into you.

“Fuck,” you cried, the feeling immediately overwhelming you.

“Does that feel good, angel?”

“So good, baby.” You whined, biting down on your lip to hold back the obscenities begging to be heard. “I missed you so much.” You breathed, barely noticing the tone of voice it was spoken in. It made his hips stutter and his mind stop for a second. His heart swelled with affection at the statement, and all he could do was smile.

“I missed you too, sweetheart.” He crooned, delivering a sharp slam of his hips to follow the words. A gasp fell from your lips, and you arched your back upwards towards him, desperate for more. You let your top half lower to the mattress, closing your eyes so you could live in the pleasure momentarily. “Look at me.” He ordered, reaching down at knotting your hair in his fist once again. He pulled your head upwards with a rough motion of his hand, ensuring your eyes were locked on the reflection in the mirror. “Want to see that pretty face while I fuck you.” You let out a whimper, the power of his voice making you weak.

Convincing yourself that you weren’t in love with him was a foolish endeavour, but you were still trying your best despite your stomach tying in knots at the sight of his beauty in the mirror.

“Is this what you thought about while I was gone?” He asked, his tone strong and his hips moving with just the same strength. “Did you touch yourself right here in this bed, waiting for me to come and fuck you like this?”

“God yes, Jake.” You gasped, feeling the pressure rising in your belly. You couldn’t deny him the pleasure of hearing it anymore, even if you wanted to. He’d been waiting to hear the truth from the minute he walked inside, and now you were too far gone to fight the urge to submit to him. “I thought about you every night.”

“That’s it, sweetheart.” He hummed, thrilled at the sound. “You don’t have to worry any more, angel. I’ll take care of you, just like you deserve.” He brought his hand down on your ass, watching your face in the reflection as the sting of pain took over. “Let me hear all of those filthy fucking noises I missed out on.” His order was useless, because you were already doing just that. You couldn’t contain any of the moans, nor any curses. You were singing his name like a hymn, but it was the most sacrilegious song ever sung. There was nothing holy to worship, and you were praising the devil with pride.

“Jake,” you cried, his name burrowing into the walls and making home in the foundation of your house. His presence would live there forever, and you would never be able to run away from it. He was everything, and you were just the lucky soul who could be the recipient of his love. You no longer had fear of Jake taking over your life, because you knew it would be empty and lackluster without his presence.

“My name sounds so pretty when you say it like that.” He groaned, his fingers branding your hips with bruises for you to see in days to come. His fist was tight in your hair, ensuring your eyes would remain on the picture of sin you’d found yourselves in.

“It feels so fucking good,” you whimpered, the pain bordering pleasure so divine that you could no longer think straight.

“Don’t cum yet, baby.” He warned, the look in his eye dangerous.

“Please Jake, I need it so bad.” You pleaded, desperate for a shred of sympathy.

“You’re being so good for me, sweetheart. Just hold on a little longer.” He promised pleasure as long as you listened, and the deal was the same every time. If you were good for him, he was phenomenal to you. You usually had no problem with the agreement, but it had been so long since you felt his hands on you that you weren’t sure you could hold back any longer. He’d pushed you to the edge already, and you thought it was impossible to deny yourself of the pleasure any longer.

“I can’t, Jake.” You cried, shaking your head against his tight hold on you.

“You can, angel. I know you can.” He encouraged you, knowing for certain that you could hold on a little while longer. You bit down on your lip hard enough to draw blood in hopes that it would distract you from the incessant burn that was growing stronger in the pit of your stomach. The tip of his cock was slamming into your cervix, the intensity of the feeling making your legs shake below you and your mind cross with thoughts of nothing but filth. Tears stung your eyes and you felt like you were being pushed closer to insanity with every thrust of his hips.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, your eyes squeezing shut in anticipation. You were so close that there was no way you could slow it down. As you teetered on the edge, you felt yourself slowly descending into the euphoria. Just when you were about to fall, the feeling stopped completely. Your eyes snapped open, now realizing that his withdrawal was a million times worse than any punishment he could possibly give you for cumming without permission.

Now, the tears were real, and they were all due to your frustration with him for denying you any kind of help. Before you could even form a thought of protest against his withdrawal, he got off the bed and moved in front of you once again.

“Hey,” he whispered, crouching down so you were face to face. He brushed the tears away from your cheeks with his thumb, fearful he’d pushed you too far. “No need for tears, angel.” He leaned forward, capturing you in a small kiss. As he did so, his hands found your wrists, loosening the belt that was holding them together. The anxiety in your chest subsided, realizing quickly that he was no longer trying to punish you, but rather fulfill his promise that he’d given you earlier. “I told you that I’d take it off if you were good for me, didn’t I?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, nodding in bliss at the realization he was going to follow through with his promise. He let the belt fall to the floor before standing on his feet, letting his thumb brush across your cheek again.

“Come here, baby.” He prompted you to join him, giving you a soft smile to show you he was being serious. His dominance was gone, and he was ready to coddle you for the rest of the night. He’d pushed you far enough, and now he wanted you to enjoy whatever came next. Once you were on your feet, he led you back towards the head of the bed. He laid down, holding his arm out for you to join him. With a small smile stuck on your lips, you watched him settle himself amongst the pillows. He propped himself up slightly against the headboard as you got in the bed, too. You climbed atop of him, settling your legs on either side of him as you felt the excitement begin to take over again. “Is this better?”

“Yeah,” you laughed, unable to put it into words. You lined yourself up with him, melting into his hold. His hands were holding your hips, his touch soft and inviting, and his eyes no longer held the flame they did moments before. He’d completely softened at the sight of your face so close to his, and he was fighting every urge he had to love you.

You lowered yourself on him, both of you letting out a simultaneous sigh of relief. “God I missed this, sweetheart.”

“Me too, baby.” You breathed, anchoring your hand on his shoulder as you began a slow motion with your hips.

“You feel so fucking good.” He sighed, using his own hands to help keep your movements steady. You leaned down, placing your lips on his in a heated kiss. You wanted him in every way you could have him, and even while he was intertwined with you in the most intimate ways possible, it still didn’t feel like enough.

He was the most beautiful thing this world had ever created, and you wanted to stay like that with him for the rest of your life. When he left, your home seemed too empty. When you couldn’t talk, you missed him more than you ever cared to admit. He had become the most important person in your life without even trying, and the line between casualness had been long crossed. As you worked yourself back up to an orgasm, love was surrounding you both completely. It was certain death, and you were a dead woman walking, but you didn’t care. The longer you avoided speaking the truth, the longer you could have him in the same way. You were terrified of disturbing the peace, but you feared that the longer you held it back, the more disastrous the situation would become.

“You want to cum, angel?” He mumbled against your lips, feeling your hips speed against him as he spoke.

“Yes, please.” You whined, already feeling the steady build of pleasure rising. Every touch was euphoric, and every glance was angelic. No matter what he was doing, you were a fool for thinking you could escape it. His web was spun too intricately to even strike a curiosity about a way out.

“You want it so bad, work for it.” His voice was low, husky and soft. It was filled with desire for you, and he was eager to watch you descend into bliss. As much as he loved the control, his favorite part of sex with you was watching you have a good time. The closeness was intoxicating, and he was completely immersed in you as you desperately tried to get yourself off.

“Can you help me? Please?” You begged, needing to feel the grace of his hands on you.

“You want me to touch you, angel?” He hummed, clenching his jaw as he held back his own orgasm. The thought of needing him was too much to bear.

“Please, sir.” You whimpered, looking down at him with a longing stare. His heavily hooded eyes were clouded with lust, and he no longer had enough willpower to deny you of anything. At the end of the day, he knew he would always give you exactly what you wanted.

“Since you asked so nicely, baby.” He agreed, moving his hand from your hip and slipping it between your legs. You leaned backwards slightly, allowing him easier access to you. The pad of his finger danced over your sensitive clit, the feeling immediately bringing you closer to the edge. You moved your hands and anchored them behind you, firmly on his thighs to keep yourself upright. You gyrated your hips faster, keeping in time with the circles his finger was tracing. “Just like that?”

“Fuck, yes.” You moaned, closing your eyes as you felt the knot begin to tighten in your belly.

“That’s it, angel.” He said, encouraging you to keep going. “Cum for me, baby.” The permissive statement was all you needed to keep going, and within seconds you descended into the most intense pleasure you’d ever felt in your entire life. You sang his name, the song sweet and beautiful, and he thought it was the most moving thing he’d ever heard.

He watched you closely, studying every detail of your face as it twisted into an expression of pleasure. The way your eyebrows furrowed, and the curl of your lip as you tried to silence yourself. He was in love with the way your skin tinged red and the glisten of sweat that formed on your face. He adored you and everything about you, and he was in no place to deny it any longer. His eyes drifted downwards, admiring the tensed muscles in your shoulders and the way your breasts moved in time with your hips. His gaze trailed down your stomach, tense with pleasure, and all the way down to his hand working at you as you rode out the high.

“That’s my girl,” his voice was weak, completely constrained by his own struggle to hold himself back. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” The waver in his words sent you into another wave of euphoria; knowing how intense his emotions were was sending you to a whole new level of pleasure.

“Fuck, Jake.” You croaked, completely exhausted and fucked out. You were so tired that you could barely hold yourself up, but he caught on to the fact and braced you with his own hand. As you came down, your head was spinning and your legs were trembling. He moved his fingers from your clit, grabbing your hips as he continued to move them for you. Within seconds, he reached his own orgasm with just as much force as your own. He managed your name through the mess of curses that fell from his lips. His head fell back on the pillow as he spilled his release into you, continuing moving your hips for you to draw out the pleasure for as long as possible.

When you both calmed from the excitement, you let out a long sigh of satisfaction. You practically collapsed on top of him, craving the warmth of his skin on your own. He wrapped a strong arm around you, holding you close in hopes that you knew how welcomed the moment was. He let his fingers trace small shapes into your skin as your heartbeats turned into one. You let your fingers run over his bicep, the touch light and tickling his skin. He placed a small kiss to the top of your head, not enough for you to chastise him for, but enough to let you know he cared.

“I don’t think we should spend that much time away from each other anymore.” He chuckled, breathing in the comforting scent of your shampoo. He’d missed so dearly that he was unsure if he could live without it again.

“I agree.” You smiled, placing a small kiss to his chest. “When we have sex this good, I think it’s a crime to go without it.” He hummed a sound of agreement, but he couldn’t deny the stab he felt at the thought of you only wanting him around for sex. Although that was the clear agreement, he couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to be around for more than just a hookup. He daydreamed about innocent dinners and days spent browsing shops in the city, hand in hand with nothing but smiles on your faces. He wondered what it would feel like to be wrapped up on the couch every night, pretending to be interested in whatever movie was playing on the television while knowing the most important thing in the world was the girl laying in his arms.

Instead of speaking his mind, he let a lock of your hair twist around his finger. It was easier to ignore it than face the consequences of rejection.

“We should get cleaned up.” You mumbled, but you regretted speaking at all. You wanted to stay in that bed with him until the end of time. The fear of age and death meant nothing when you were experiencing such intimacy at the hands of someone so fantastic.

“Sure, angel.” He agreed, but he prayed you would change your mind. After a moment, you made a move to sit up. He ignored the sinking disappointment and did the same. The two of you went to the bathroom in silence, washing away the sinful reminders of your night of reuinion. As you cleaned up your messy makeup in the mirror, you felt his hands drift over the marks beginning to form on your hips. He would never say it, but you knew he felt regret for being so rough with you. An animalistic nature took over the both of you in the bedroom, and you couldn’t help the volatile attraction the two of you felt. When the moment passed and you realized how you treated each other, guilt began to plague you both.

He placed a kiss on your shoulder, waiting until you were finished to return to the bedroom with you. When you felt as though you looked presentable, the two of you made the journey back. You threw his shirt on, wasting no time before climbing under the covers. When you didn’t notice him immediately behind you, you peeked around the room to see what he’d busied himself with.

He stood at your desk, only in his boxers as he looked over the items littering the surface. “What are you doing?” You asked, but you didn’t really care. You knew that whatever he was up to was harmless, and you had nothing to hide from him anymore. It was genuine curiosity over what had caught his attention.

“You have some expensive cameras.” He said, amazed at the quality of your things.

“Well, I take pictures for a living, so I kind of have to.” You chuckled, nestling your head into the pillows.

“You have a Polaroid camera?” He asked, looking back over his shoulder at you.

“Yeah,” you nodded, peeking at him through one eye. “Some people like that style, especially younger clients. I bring it with me and I use it sometimes for a picture or two. I don’t love it because I can’t edit the pictures, and what you get is what you get, but it’s a cool part of photo shoots. A little personal memory to bring home right away.” You shrugged, smiling at his curiosity. He picked it up, looking it over for a moment. Normally, you would be unwilling to let someone else touch your equipment, but you had no fear when your camera was in his hands. If he handled them with even half as much care as he held you with, you knew that it was the safest place for them to be.

“Is there film in this?” He asked, looking back at you again.

“Should be, why?” You asked, watching him take a few steps towards you.

“Smile.” He said, a smile stuck on his own lips as he asked you to do so.

“No, Jake.” You covered your face. “I look like shit.” You laughed. Your hair was a mess and your cheeks were still rosy from the rushing blood moments before. Your eyes were tired, and you were only clad in his t-shirt. You were nowhere near picture-worthy, but he couldn’t disagree more. He thought that in that moment, the epitome of beauty was sat directly in front of him.

“Impossible,” he shook his head, crouching down at the end of the bed “because you’re the most beautiful person in the whole world.”

“Oh, shut up.” You rolled your eyes.

“Please?” He asked again. “I promise I won’t show anyone else.” You let out a sigh of defeat, but you lowered your hand.

“Fine. Just one, though.” You surrendered. “But I get to take one of you, too.”

“Of course.” He agreed. You sat up against the headboard slightly, fixing your hair as you did so. You put on a smile, one that was clearly fake and only for the pose. “Come on. Give me a real smile, angel.” He said.

“That is real!”

“Uh-huh,” he rolled his eyes. “A photographer can’t tell a real smile from a fake one?”

“I can, but clearly you can’t. Must be why I’m the photographer and you stick to writing songs.”

“Ouch,” he laughed, “you say that as if writing songs is a bad thing.”

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing.” You defended. “But, I don’t know if your songs are any good.” You corrected him.

“Maybe if someone would get over herself and listen to them, she’d know that they’re pretty great, actually.” His pitch got higher as he spoke, clearly telling you it was a joke. He looked at you over the camera, smiling at your stunned expression. “What? Got nothing to argue about, now? That’s a first.”

“You’re an asshole.” You laughed, finding his confidence charming. Just as you did, he snapped a picture of you amidst a real laugh, finding the moment of joy too precious to pass up. He waited as the photo printed from the bottom, grabbing it as he walked towards your desk to let it develop. “Give it to me.” You extended your hand, moving towards him to grab it. He handed it to you, posing no argument as he did so.

He collapsed on the bed next to you, settling himself in the same position as you were in. You moved to the end of the bed, kneeling as you studied his position. Before you took the picture, you leaned forward and fixed the blanket draped over his waist. You reached up, brushing the hair away from his eyes and giving him a small smile as you did so.

“How do I look?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Beautiful.” You confirmed, but no hint of a joke was present. You leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on his lips before you returned to your earlier position. He didn’t have to fake his smile, because every one he’d ever had around you was the most genuine he’d ever felt. You took the picture, placing the Polaroid on the comforter before moving towards him. You settled beside him, turning the camera to face you both.

“You like me enough to take a picture with me?” He teased, surprised at your initiation of the moment.

“Don’t let it get to your head.” You brushed him off, ignoring his intent to get under your skin. He chuckled, leaning in just in time to press a kiss to your cheek as you clicked the button. You watched as it printed, grabbing it and moving to collect the other one as well.

You sat the camera beside you, watching intently as the photograph developed. The one of him on his lonesome finished first, and it nearly stole the air from your lungs. You had no idea a person could be so ethereal, but there he was, and you were so lucky to be in his company. Sometimes it felt like you did not deserve the care and attention that Jake gave you, and you did not feel nearly special enough to be receiving it from someone so phenomenal. When the second one finished developing, you couldn’t help but feel an unfamiliar feeling rise in your chest. It wasn’t lust, or desire, which was something you so often felt around him. Instead, it was adoration, and further underneath that was the emotion you’d been working so hard to cover up. When you looked over at him, you could see in his eyes that he felt the same way.

Love was dancing on the tip of your tongue, begging to be spoken and furious with you for ignoring it. You bit back the word, instead leaning forward to place a kiss on his lips. You swore he could taste the sweetness of your feelings for him from the small action alone, and he feared all the same things. As you moved to place the camera on your desk, you stopped and stuck the two pictures in the corner of your mirror, ensuring that you could see them every time you passed by. It was a second of sweetness that would brighten even the darkest of days. When you returned to his side, your body was heavy with the weight of your heart that now solely belonged to him. You were terrified, and you refused to speak it aloud, but there was a small part of you that knew it was safe with him. As fearful as you were, you knew that he would not do the same as others who came before him.

You nestled yourself into his arms, content in his hold and knowing that you had never missed anything more than you missed his comfort. You closed your eyes as the newest deadly sin filled the air around you, pushing out the love and replacing it with evil. Your laziness in regards to confessing your feelings would eat away at you, and your failure to utilize your talent would kill you. The two of you were better at loving each other than you were at anything else, but you were too busy denying it to realize that it was exactly what you’d been doing all along. You were descending further into the depths of hell with every day that passed, but the evil had become so comfortable that the flames no longer burned. Now, it was a soft tickle that reminded you of home, and you knew that you were here to stay.

In the moment, sloth seemed like the most innocent crime you had committed in your time spent knowing him so intimately, but in the long run, it simply wasn’t true. Sloth was the most deadly sin to date, because it would eventually cause the most disastrous consequences. By avoiding the truth, you were setting yourself up for catastrophic failure, and when the time came, there would be no chance for recovery. It was opening the door for a whole new world of possibilities, but none of them good; your comfortability with your own sinful actions was dangerous, and ignoring the love that was growing for him would hurt you more than the both of you confessing the truth. Now, you had chosen to suffer in silence, and any grounds of doubt or defense no longer existed. Remaining in a casual relationship while loving each other so deeply only allowed for you to hurt each other in the most brutal ways possible; causing harm without even realizing the damage you left behind.

Sloth left you vulnerable, and you were too blind to realize the dangers. After all, how can you hurt someone who has never admitted to the fact that they are able to be hurt by you at all?

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