#i need to cry all this grief and anger out

[tarudce22]

I think i know what my dream job is now.....

It’s for things not to change how they currently are. Me staying a dependent under dad while i cook and clean the house for him, while get to do a garden every year, I get free time to do art and play games and explore hobbies every so often. I get to spend his days off with him. Get to be around my twin. I just get to exist........

I just want to spend my time with my family.....

[possamble]

I'm not allowed to be on social media for more than two seconds today but I just wanted to say that Laios will absolutely have his own reaction to all this as someone who would die for Falin but has also imprinted on Marcille as his Emotional Support Comphet White Girl Not-Girlfriend along the way

[angelsdean]

ruthlessly deleting old 2021/2022 posts (not by me) from my dean studies tag like *click* un-incorporating that from my beliefs system! also the way SO many posts have me like ok uh-huh good aaand then say one completely wrong thing that loses me. it's so many posts.

[maxtermind]

my boy only breaks his favorite toys

★ : summary :: when he cheats on you ★ : feat :: max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris ★ : genre :: angst ★ : word count :: 5k ★ : a/n :: please remember that all of this is fiction! anyway, enjoy the angst <3 cheating is not a slip up but a statement and i will not be writing a part 2 where they get back together :) as usual requests are open for other endings if you're interested (maybe she ends up with someone else on the grid to make it hurt more lol) ★ : gifs :: @\f1-stuff @\userhamilton @\slowestlap @\tyrannosaurus-maxy

Max Verstappen

Max and you had a pretty healthy work schedule. Thanks to your flexible remote work, you could travel with him and support him in person. But there were times when you were needed back at the home office but despite the distance, Max made sure to keep you in the loop.

From video calls, to texting whenever one was free, to random pictures shared, you were always pretty aware of what the other was doing. So imagine your shock when minutes after hanging up on a call after congratulating him on his win, you failed to get a hold of him before pictures of him started going viral.

But now, all of that seemed like a distant memory as you stared at the damning evidence on your phone. Pictures of Max, smiling and carefree, dancing with another woman in a crowded club, her arms wrapped around him possessively.

Your heart sank as you scrolled through the images, each one a painful reminder of the betrayal you never saw coming. And then, there it was, the blurry photo that confirmed your worst fears - Max and the other woman locked in a passionate kiss.

The world around you seemed to blur as well as tears welled up in your eyes, hot and bitter against your cheeks. Without thinking, you began to dial Max's number, your fingers trembling with a mixture of anger and desperation.

But each call went unanswered, each voicemail left unheard. With each unanswered ring, your heart broke a little more, until you could no longer bear the weight of your pain.

It was an hour later when you were in your bed, crying your eyes out when your phone finally lit up with Max's name, the screen casting a harsh glow in the dimness of your room.

As much as your head told you to hang up and let that be the final answer, you picked it up and whispered a low. ”Hi?” Your voice barely a whisper, choked with emotion.

”Y/N,” Max’s breathy voice came. It was enough to throw you off again and new tears gathered in your eyes.

”Where were you?” The words escaped your lips before you could stop them, raw with hurt and anguish.

”Baby…” Max's voice wavered, and you could hear the weight of his guilt in every syllable. It spoke volumes, you knew what had happened and he knew that. ”I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

Your chest tightened at his words, the pain of his deceit threatening to consume you whole. And then, without warning, a strangled sob escaped your lips, the sound echoing in the silence of the room.

You could hear Max's sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line, a sound that only served to intensify your grief. But you were beyond caring about appearances now, your heart laid bare for him to see.

”I trusted you,” you choked out between sobs, the words a bitter indictment of the love you had once shared. ”Why would you do this to me?”

How could the man that made you feel like the only girl in the world for him do this to you? Did he even love you or was he just a really good actor?

Your voice quivered with pain as you struggled to maintain your composure,”You've broken me in ways I didn't even know were possible.”

Max's voice wavered as he tried to find the right words to express his remorse,”I never meant to hurt you, it was the biggest mistake of my life.” 

The life he has made sure he spent with someone not you. His voice cracked further and you realized that he was also crying on the other end. ”I can't bear the thought of not having you in my life.”

There was a long pause, as if Max was searching for the right words to say. But what words could possibly undo the damage that had already been done, the trust that had been shattered beyond repair?

Your words cut through him, echoing the pain he had caused,”Did… did you even love me, Max?”

”Of course, I love you!” He spoke, his voice carrying a sense of hurt. As if questioning the audacity to even ask that and that angered you. It made you so mad because this was on him. He did this.

”I wish I could turn back time and make things right, I’m so sorry, Y/N.” Max's breath hitched as he spoke before you could. The wounds he had inflicted too deep to be healed with a simple apology. ”I never meant to make you doubt my love for you.”

And as you listened to his voice crack with emotion, you knew that there was only one thing left to do. ”I don't even recognize the person I fell in love with anymore.” You whispered with finality, your voice filled with a mixture of sadness and disbelief.

Was this really the man who had promised you a future filled with a family and laughter? The man who just made your heart bleed out?

Max caught on and rushed to get the words out,”Please, Y/N, don't hang up. I need you more than ever, I love y-”

You hung up because how dare he say that after what he did. He called you again and again after that and if you weren’t half dying in your apartment, maybe you could’ve scoffed at how the roles were switched.

However, all you could do was switch off your phone and wonder how the man who once kissed all your scars better, could leave deeper ones in their place. Leaving you to do the work to mend them all alone.

Lewis Hamilton

It had all started the day you had foolishly decided to set up lunch to have the two most important people in your life, your bestfriend and your boyfriend, meet.

Lewis seemed genuinely enthusiastic about finally meeting the person who had been such a solid support in your life. Little did you anticipate that this innocent gathering would unravel into a scene of deception.

The signs were subtle at first. A quick exchange of numbers, a glance shared behind your back– easy to dismiss as innocent. But why would you look for such signs? When it included your most trusted humans on the planet?

But then came the slips, the accidental mentions of knowing each other's whereabouts better than you did.

”I don't think she'll pick up, she said she had an afternoon meeti-” Lewis caught himself on time before shrugging and ending with a: ”She posted it on her instagram, did you miss it?”

You laughed it off though it irked you. You were just glad that they were close before...

After an especially tiring day, you finally entered your house. Surprised to see the sitting room empty, where Lewis waits for you every time he's home early.

You sighed, instinctively petting Roscoe before moving inside the house. Desperate for a shower and clean clothes to get the day's stench off of you.

So imagine your shock when you walked into your bedroom,to discover Lewis and Rachel entwined in your bed, their bodies exposed and vulnerable. In your bed.

It took a second for you to process it while they both scrambled to get their clothes on. You just stared in disbelief while Rachel cried on the bed under covers and Lewis frantically wore his clothes while saying… something?

You felt like you were underwater for a second because you saw his mouth moving before his words started registering and tears started to pool in your eyes. The pain felt tangible, like a weight pressing down on your chest, as you confronted the unthinkable reality of their infidelity.

”Baby, let me explain. Ple- Please, this isn't what it looks like... I-”

You tore your eyes away from him before looking over at Rachel who was crying because she probably understood exactly what was happening.

You wanted to ask what exactly Lewis thought was going on but decided not to because your throat was closing up. The image of them together was burned into your brain. You just shook your head as tears fell from your eyes before turning around and walking out of the room.

As Lewis desperately jumbled to dress himself, his hands fumbling with buttons and zippers, he pleaded with you, his voice cracking with desperation.

”Y/N, please, you have to listen to me. This isn't what it looks like, I swear,” he implored, his eyes wide with panic as he reached out to touch your arm, but you flinched away as if his touch burned. Feeling disgusted and deceived.

”What do you mean it's not what it looks like?!” you finally managed to choke out, your voice trembling with damage and betrayal. ”I come home to find you two... in our bed, na- naked!”

Lewis's face contorted in anguish, his mind racing for the right words to say, but nothing seemed adequate in the face of your devastation.

”It's... it's a misunderstanding, Y/N, I promise,” he stammered, his voice strained with emotion. ”Rachel and I... we didn't plan for this to happen. It's just... things got out of hand, and we never meant to do you wrong.”

You shook your head in disbelief because you didn’t know what else to do truly, feeling as if the ground had been pulled out from beneath you. ”How could you do this to me, Lewis? I thought you… that you loved me,” your voice turned in a whisper.

All the times he had discussed the future rushed through your mind. He wanted to retire and repeatedly told you how he wanted to marry you. Your hands trembled as you suddenly remembered asking Rachel to be your bridesmaid.

Suddenly, the pressure on your chest got worse.

Lewis's eyes pleaded with you, his voice barely a whisper as he struggled to find the right words. ”I don't know, Y/N. I don't know what came over me. I love you, you have to believe me. Please don't leave, we can work through this together.”

But his words fell on deaf ears as you turned away from him, the pain in your heart too raw to bear. ”I trusted you, Lewis. I trusted both of you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

As you moved towards the door, every step heavier than the last, Lewis's voice trembled with desperation, his hands reaching out to grasp yours, pleading for your attention.

”Y/N, please, don't leave,” he begged, his voice cracking with raw emotion. ”I messed up, I know I did, but I love you. Please, let me make it right.”

You paused, the weight of his words pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket. ”How can you say you love me after what you did?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper, thick with pain.

And with that, you turned away, leaving behind the shattered remains of the life you had once shared, the echoes of Lewis's pleas fading into the emptiness of the night. Swearing to never put your trust in anyone else ever again.

Carlos Sainz

You had sworn off of relationships for so long after your last one that it was honestly a miracle, as your friends and family put it, that you agreed to go out with Carlos. But he was the perfect gentleman to you. The person who gave you hope for a better future. Giving you hope that maybe all the ‘cheesy’ discourse was for you too.

He knew how you were hurt the last time and reassured you about how special you were to him and how you were always enough. Enough for him.

It slowly became a running joke once you guys hit the two year mark. You were finally at a stage where you had a loving partner that you could trust blindly.

So to say that you were blindsided would be an understatement…

Your fingers trembled as you scrolled through Carlos's phone, your heart racing with each new message that appeared on the screen.

You never thought you'd be the type to snoop, but the nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach had become too much to ignore. He was so distant lately and so secretive about his phone, it was slowly killing you.

There it was, undeniable proof staring back at you in blue and white. Messages from an unknown number, filled with suggestive language and promises of secrecy. Your breath got caught in your throat as you read through the damning evidence, your heart sinking with each word.

‘Hey babe, can't wait to see you tonight ;) xoxo’

The message hit you like a punch to the gut, your mind reeling with disbelief. How could Carlos do this to you? You thought you had something special, something worth fighting for. But now, all those hopes and dreams lay shattered at your feet.

You tried to push down the rising tide of emotion, to find some innocent explanation for what you were seeing. But deep down, you knew the truth – Carlos was cheating on you.

When he emerged from the bathroom, you were waiting for him, phone in hand and tears in your eyes. And as you looked into his eyes, you knew that nothing would ever be the same again.

”Carlos,” you whispered, the weight of your words heavy in the air as he stepped into the room, his tousled hair and relaxed demeanor a stark contrast to the turmoil raging inside you.

You weren’t really sure why you weren’t screaming and thrashing things around already. It was like you were frozen on the spot.

”What's wrong?” he asked, concern etched into his features as he took in your tear-streaked face and the phone clutched tightly in your hand. Though, when you looked at him, all you could see was how he was your everything. How you had given him your everything.

And you still weren’t enough.

You struggled to find the words, to articulate the emotions coursing through you. ”I found... I found something on your phone,” you finally managed, your voice trembling with emotion.

Carlos's expression faltered, his eyes flickering with uncertainty as he took a hesitant step closer. ”What do you mean?” he asked, his voice tinged with apprehension.

You took a shaky breath, steeling yourself for the confrontation to come. ”Messages,” you began, your voice barely audible as you held up the phone, displaying the incriminating evidence for him to see. ”From someone... someone you've been seeing behind my back.”

Carlos's eyes widened in shock as he stared at the screen, his hand instinctively reaching out to take the phone from you. ”Y/N, I swear, I can explain,” he stammered, his voice tinged with desperation. Why was he reaching for the phone and not your hand?

But the words fell on deaf ears as the full weight of his betrayal hit you like a ton of bricks. ”Explain?” you echoed, your voice trembling with disbelief. ”How can you even explain this, Carlos? How could you do this to me?”

He reached out to touch you, to offer comfort or reassurance, but you recoiled, the sting of his infidelity too raw and painful to bear. ”I trusted you,” you choked out, tears streaming down your face as you backed away from him. ”How could you-”

Can love like this be lost too? You’ve been on your knees begging the universe to grant you one love that wouldn’t be snatched from you. Thinking all your prayers had been heard only for him to do it too.

Carlos's expression crumbled as he watched you retreat, his own anguish mirroring yours. ”I never meant for this to happen,” he pleaded, his voice thick with emotion. ”Please, Y/N, give me a chance to make things right.”

As Carlos pleaded with you, his words heavy with desperation, you couldn't help but feel a pang of doubt. His promises of love and devotion clashed with the evidence on his phone, leaving you torn between the man you thought you knew and the painful truth staring back at you.

You met his gaze, seeing the desperation etched into his features as he struggled to make you believe him. ”Can you hear me?” he implored, desperation lacing his words. ”You are always enough for me. Please, you have to believe me. I love you more than anything, Y/N.”

His words pulled at your heartstrings, the sincerity in his voice almost convincing you to give him another chance. But deep down, you knew that trust once broken was not easily repaired.

You met his gaze, feeling the weight of his plea bearing down on you. ”I hear you,” you replied softly, nodding through your tears, your voice tinged with sadness. ”But it's not that simple, Carlos. I want to believe you, but...”

Carlos's grip on you tightened, his body pressing against yours as he sought solace in your embrace. ”Please, don't leave,” he whispered, his voice filled with desperation. ”I'll do anything to make this right, to prove to you that you're the only one for me.”

Tears welled in your eyes as you pulled away, the pain of betrayal still raw and agonizing. ”No,” you murmured, your voice barely audible above the sound of your breaking heart. ”You did to us. You made me believe… I'm leaving. This is goodbye.”

With that, you turned and walked away, leaving Carlos standing alone in the wreckage of your brutally murdered relationship.

Charles Leclerc

You had rushed back home because for the first time in what feels like forever, your boyfriend was back home. Charles was a man of many charms. Despite being with him for so long, he still had you blushing and getting butterflies every time he was around.

He was busy when you got home so you decided to wash up but as you paced back and forth in the living room, your heart racing with anxiety, you didn’t know what to do to figure out what exactly Charles was doing.

Charles had been on the phone for what felt like hours, his voice hushed but urgent as he spoke to someone on the other end of the line. Normally, you wouldn't think much of it, but something about his tone tonight had set off alarm bells in your mind.

You tried to focus on a book, anything to distract yourself from the gnawing feeling of unease in the pit of your stomach. But every word you read seemed to blur together, your mind consumed with worry.

Finally, you couldn't take it anymore. With trembling hands, you set the book aside and made your way to the kitchen, where Charles was still on the phone.

”...I can't risk it tonight,” you heard him say, his tone strained ”She's coming home soon, and I don't want to risk it.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. Who was he talking about? And why did he sound so nervous?

Curiosity getting the better of you, you crept closer, straining to hear the other end of the conversation.

”...I know, I know,” Charles continued, his voice growing even more frantic. ”But I can't keep doing this. It's not fair to her, and it's not fair to you.”

Your blood ran cold at his words. What did he mean, ‘not fair to her?’ And who the fuck was he talking to?

Before you could process it all, Charles abruptly ended the call and turned to find you standing in the doorway, your eyes wide with shock and hurt.

”Y/N,” he started, his voice wavering as he took in your expression. ”I... I didn't realize you were there.”

You struggled to find your voice, your mind racing with a thousand questions. ”Who were you talking to, Charles?” you managed to choke out, your voice barely above a whisper.

Charles' eyes flickered with guilt as he shifted uncomfortably under your gaze. ”It's... it's nothing, Y/N,” he stammered, but you could tell he was lying. ”Just a friend.”

But you weren't buying it. Not after what you had just heard. ”A friend?” you repeated, your voice rising with anger and hurt. ”Is that what you call my replacement?”

Charles' face paled at your accusation, his eyes widening in shock. ”Baby, it's not what you think,” he protested, but you could hear the desperation in his voice. He looked so scared, as if he knew he was gonna get caught up into lies.

”Then what is it, Charles?” you demanded, your voice trembling with emotion. ”Enlighten me.”

He hesitated, his gaze flickering away from yours as if unable to meet your eyes. ”It's... it's complicated,” he finally admitted, but his words offered little comfort.

”There's nothing complicated about cheating on someone you claim to love.” You were trying to compose yourself, not show him how deeply his words had cut you but your hands were trembling and your voice was cracking. Face pale and eyes glassy.

Charles winced at your words, his guilt written plainly across his face. ”You’re the only person I love,” he insisted, his voice barely above a whisper. ”It's just... things got out of hand.”

You felt like you had been punched in the gut. How could he stand there and try to justify his betrayal? How could he expect you to forgive him after this? Why the fuck was he the one looking distort?

”I trusted you, Charles,” you choked out, tears welling in your eyes. He shouldn’t be expecting you to treat him as a victim too when he was the one guilty. ”I thought we had something special.”

Charles' expression softened, his eyes brimming with remorse. ”We do, Y/N,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. ”I love you, more than anything. Please, you have to believe me.”

But love now felt like a distant memory, tarnished by his infidelity. ”How can I believe anything you say after this?” You scoffed bitterly. Angry at yourself for crying in front of the man who has probably been sleeping with someone else for months now.

Charles reached out to you, his hand trembling as he brushed a tear from your cheek. ”I'll do anything to make it up to you, Y/N,” he pleaded, his voice filled with desperation. ”Just give me a chance to prove it.”

You whispered, your voice heavy with resignation,”There are no second chances for cheaters.”

Lando Norris

Because of multiple torments inflicted by past lovers, you were always resistant to fall head first in any relationship. Hesitant to give your heart knowing recovering was going to be the absolute worst.

Comes in, Lando. The man who broke through all your barriers, took down the walls you put around yourself and had you love struck in a matter of time.

For a moment, everything was amazing. He was the best person you could've asked for. He looked at you as if you put the stars up in the sky.

Who could've thought?

Who could've thought that the same fucking man would have you breaking down at a family event in front of everyone.

The room buzzed with conversation as you sat at the dinner table, trying to ignore the growing tension in the air.

Lando's hand found yours under the table, his thumb tracing soothing circles on your palm. ”Are you okay?” he whispered, concern etched in his voice.

You forced a smile, nodding faintly. ”Yeah, just a bit overwhelmed,” you murmured, hoping to brush off your unease. Why was everyone looking at you with such pity?

But Lando's gaze remained fixed on you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of distress. ”You know you can talk to me, right?” he said softly, squeezing your hand gently.

Before you could respond, a sudden hush fell over the room, drawing your attention to the commotion across the room. You followed Lando's gaze, your heart sinking as you saw him make eye contact with one of your cousins, their faces morphing as if they were having a whispered conversation.

”What's going on?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as dread coiled in the pit of your stomach.

You have seen this scene before and you did not like where this was going. Feeling overwhelmed, you got up and excused yourself from the table. Slightly glad to have Lando do the same.

This was all a confusion. You repeated in your head before standing outside the venue, away from distressed eyes and hushed gossips.

Lando's grip on your hand tightened, his expression unreadable as he turned to face you. ”I... I need to talk to you,” he said, his voice strained with emotion.

Your heart plummeted as you watched him fidget, every step feeling like a weight bearing down on your chest. ”What is it?” you asked, your voice trembling with apprehension.

Lando hesitated, his eyes darting away from yours as if unable to meet your gaze. ”I... I don't know how to say this,” he began, his voice faltering.

Just then, your cousin appeared at his side, her expression a mix of guilt and defiance. ”Y/N, we need to talk,” she said, her voice tinged with remorse.

They exchanged another glance and something in your mind stopped working.

Your breath caught in your throat as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place, the truth hitting you like a sledgehammer to the chest. ”No...” you whispered, the word barely a breath as tears welled in your eyes.

Lando reached out to you as you took a step away from them, his voice a desperate plea. ”Please, let me explain,” he begged, his eyes brimming with regret.

But you pulled away, the sting of deceit too raw and painful to bear. ”Not you too,” you choked out, your voice breaking with emotion. ”How could you do this to me?”

There were no answers, no explanations that could erase the pain of their breach of trust. They both just watched as you started crying softly. Apparently everyone in your family knew too.

As tears welled in your eyes, Lando's pleading voice cut through the air. ”Y/N, please, just give me a chance to explain.” His hand reached out towards you, but you recoiled, his touch now feeling like a betrayal.

”Explain what?” you retorted, your voice laced with disbelief. ”That you cheated on me with my cousin?”

Lando's eyes widened in panic but instead your cousin's voice broke through the tension, filled with regret. ”Y/N, I'm so sorry. It was a mistake, it shouldn't have happened.”

Anger surged within you at her words. ”Sleeping with my fucking boyfriend was a mistake?” you shot back, incredulous at the audacity of her apology.

Lando stepped forward, his expression a mix of remorse and longing. ”I never meant to cause you any pain, Y/N. Please believe me,” he pleaded, his voice trembling with emotion.

Your trust had shattered along with your heart. 

His voice quivered as he spoke again, desperation lacing his words. ”I love you, Y/N. I made a stupid mistake, but it doesn't change how I feel about you.”

But love now felt like a distant memory, tarnished by their adultery.

”If this is love, I want no part of it,” you declared, your voice filled with anguish. Knowing deep down that you meant it.

Your cousin reached out to you, her eyes brimming with tears. ”Y/N, please, you have to understand...” But understanding felt beyond your reach, lost in a sea of pain and betrayal.

”Understand what?” you cried out, your voice breaking with emotion. ”That my own sister betrayed me with my… my boyfriend?”

Lando's plea echoed in the air, his voice thick with desperation. ”I'll do anything to make it up to you, Y/N. Just give me a chance.”

But the chance had already been squandered, lost in the wreckage of their infidelity.

”You had your chance, Lando, and you blew it.” You wish you could be angry and put them to their places but your chest was hurting so much that it was almost dizzy.

You felt sick and on the verge of passing out.

”I'll do anything to make things right, Y/N. Just tell me what to do.” But there was nothing they could do to undo the damage that had been done, no words or actions that could mend the broken pieces of your heart.

They have insulted you in front of your whole family.

”There's nothing you can do to fix this, Lando. You've ruined everything,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as you turned away, the weight of their betrayal too heavy to bear.

As you walked away, their voices faded into the background, drowned out by the deafening roar of your own heartbreak. And as you stumbled out into the night, the stars above offering no solace, you vowed never to let anyone break you again.

( writing masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request ) ©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

[thewritetofreespeech]

Nowhere is Safe

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary: you are awoken in the middle of the night to find out your nephew-in-law is dead and Aemond is trying to throw you out.

----------------------------⚔️--------------------------------

It was the dead of night. Which seemed to be when the most horrible, cruel, inconceivable things tended to happen.

You were fast asleep when the commotion woke you. The feeling like a dream. To the point that you try to ignore it and follow the path of more pleasant dreams fading off into your mind’s distance. The door flinging open, nearly off its hinges, was what fully woke you. “Bleeding hells!!”

“Thank the Gods you’re alright.”

You had seen wild looks in Aemond’s eye before. His schemes. His dark thoughts. His cunning designs. But this wild look was not something you were familiar with. Fear. Enough to invoke the Gods? Something you were fairly certain he didn’t even believe in. “What’s going on?”

The prince said nothing as he rushed across the room with all the speed & grace those years of fighting had afforded him and took you in his arms. Aemond was nowhere near as cruel as Aegon, but he wasn’t one for overly affectionate displays. The closest he would come were peaceful, tender moments after your most intimate times. Now you were starting to sprout fear. “Jaehaerys is dead.”

You pulled back from Aemond to look at him in disbelief. His expression smooth and calm like always. Impossible to read for most, but you knew he was telling the truth. “What?! How?!”

“He was murdered by an assassin in our walls.”

The words are so impossible to believe that you think you might still be dreaming. Yes. Dreaming. This was all a bad nightmare. A terrible nightmare. Who would murder a child?! Who would murder someone within the castle walls? Yes, this was war, but deep down you thought none of them really meant to hurt one another. A child….

“You need to pack.”

Startled from your thoughts and swelling grief at Aemond’s words as he moved away, already helping himself to one of your trunks, you manage to ask, “What…? Why? Where?”

“Anywhere but here.”

He was already throwing all manner things into your trunk. Books, trinkets, some sheer manner of clothing that was more decorative than clothing. All of it going into the trunk with reckless abandon. “Aemond. Aemond stop. Aemond look at me!” He eventually stopped when you grabbed his arm. Ready to throw a vase, flowers, water, and all, in with the rest. “I’m not going anywhere. Alright. I’m not.”

“You have to.” He insisted. “The palace isn’t safe. We must get you somewhere—“If the Keep isn’t safe, then nowhere is safe.”

Aemond seemed to want to argue, but his jaw shut and closed tight. Those sharp lines in his face looking like daggers in his anger. Because he knew you were right. If they could get in here, they could get in anywhere. And more the fools they, but the point was that nowhere was safe now.

“You can’t stay here. I…I cannot protect you here.”

That’s why he was afraid, you realize. Not that you might be dead, though he would torrent the skies if that had been true, but he was scared he couldn’t protect you.

You wrap your arms around Aemond and hold him tight. Who would be next in this ridiculous feud? Aegon’s other children? Rhaenyra other sons? Helaena? Aemond himself?

You feel your grief mounting as you think on it. Who would be next, and who was now lost. Of Jaehaerys sweet face and how you would comment often that you hoped your future children were half as sweet as him. He’d make a fine king, as long as he spent less time with his father. He..would…have made a fine king.

You didn’t realize you were crying until Aemond lifted your head from his chest. “You need to leave.” He brushed the tears from your cheeks, but they all scatter again as you shook your head furiously.

“No. Never.” How could you leave him here, alone, in this place. Where nothing and no one was safe. If you were to die it would be with Aemond. It was the promise you made after all.

The prince let out a sigh. More heaving of shoulder than want of sound. Then he pulled you into his arms again. “You’re a damned fool.” Still, he doesn’t ask you again.

part II III IIII

[ponderingmoonlight]

I'd love Obanai + Sanemi saving reader from a demon (like in the first episode??) You are awesome, thanks!

This escalated so quick damn, but hey, there you have a full on fic hehe - hope you enjoy <3

Sanemi saving your ass even if you don't want to

Pairing: Sanemi x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,9k

Synopsis: You knew what you got yourself into when you let a demon capture you instead of your beloved friend. Little did you know that help already arrived, viewing you as nothing but a damsel in distress until suddenly, you turn into much more...

Warnings: (y/n) fell but I fell harder, just saw the movie and it's so AHHH, honestly Sameni's voice is so mezmerizing omg, however this includes violence and language, might incluce spoilers for the movie but if you haven't seen it already you don't know what's going on anyway lol, like all my demon slayer fanfics this includes ai pics of reader so if this doesn't sit right with you, I'd suggest to not read it

PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU NEED MORE SANEMI CONTENT

Your dirty cold feet pound against the muddy floor, haunted eyes darted towards nothing but sheer darkness. You still don’t know how you managed to keep the demon from kidnapping your best friend, how you’re still alive when at this very moment, this frightful creature his hunting you down like its prey.

So many innocent young women, one after another disappeared from your village nearby. Why did you never even think about the possibility that you or even worse, a person you love could be next?

Not until now. Not until you stared into the demon’s stone-cold red orbs when it began to run after you. Not until you were the one threatened to get eaten alive.

“Run! Run and don’t look back!”

“But (y/n), you’ll get killed-“

“I won’t. Leave it to me, tell everyone to lock their doors, just don’t come back!”, you screamed on top of your lungs.

“I’m getting impatient, stupid girl. You know you will get killed, right?”

Blood rushed through your ears, body threatened to fail you.

“If you want to kill me you have to get me first, stupid demon.”

How long have you been running for? Minutes, hours? You lost track of time completely with your body screaming, begging you to stop and take a break. The bitter taste of iron covers your whole mouth, blood sticks to your new Yukata like a second skin. Your mother will completely lose it when she sees the crimson discolouring on the white fabric.

“I’m having enough.”

If you ever see her again.

With a swift motion, the demon swings you over his shoulder, his claws digging into your flesh so roughly that you cry out. No, this can’t be the end. You can’t allow yourself to die like this: in the arms of a demon, without even fighting back. No one ever told you what to do, you were always able to stand up for yourself. Today will be no exception. Even if you get killed, you will fight back with everything you have.

“Shinazugawa…Something’s not right.”

Sanemi can’t help but look around, eyes meeting the countless demons around him. What the hell is this place?

“Yeah, I don’t like this, either. I’ve never seen demons swarming around like this.”

“Let me go!”, you yell, fist banging roughly against the creatures’ back while it drags you into what looks like a haunted mansion.

Your eyes widen when you feel multiple pairs of red orbs laying on your body.

“Demon slayers…”, you hear your kidnapper hiss through gritted teeth, turning his head over his shoulder.

Demon slayers? You’ve heard of them before, how they behead every demon coming their way, how desperately they fight for humanity. But…where were these demon slayers when all the girls from your village got kidnapped? Where are they when you need them the most? How absoluteley useless.

You don’t know what has gotten into you. Is it the anger, the grief? With a rapid motion, you dig your nails into the eyes of the demon until he lets you fall to the ground abruptly, groaning out in visible pain.

Everything hurts, a trail of blood follows you as you drag your body against a rotten wall. You feel your body giving in, all the stress, agony and exhaustion rushing over you like a wave. But no, you can’t give up right now. Not when there’s still a slight chance for you to survive.

“You little bitch. Eat her, I will leave and get her little friend.”

Suddenly, the urge to puke becomes almost unbearable. Countless demons come near you, their teeth exposed to the harsh moonlight. No, this is not how you want to end. You can’t die getting eaten alive by these creatures. But what else are you supposed to do? There is no way out of this living hell.

Except for the destroyed window a few steps away. This is your only chance. You drag yourself up, sprint over the rotten wood underneath your naked feet and jump.

Floors into the depths.

Away from the demons, into another certain death.

“Where is the girl?”, Sanemi questions harshly, sword oh so ready to behead that bastard of a demon in front of him while heading down.

Screw this strange place and the countless demons around him, he needs to find you, needs to carry you into safety.

“The girl? She jumped out of a window in order to safe herself. She’s probably dead by now.”

He lets out the breath he didn’t knew he was holding, blank eyes staring at the stone ground his blade has crashed instead of the demon. What was this place?

No, he can’t think about this right now. As fast as his body carries him, he gets out of that cursed mansion, eyes instantly finding your falling body.

Only metres away from crushing into the ground.

Oh, how much you wished it wouldn’t end like this. But maybe this was everything you could do, dying like this is still better than getting eaten up by a demon. Where are those demon slayers? You close your tired lids, enjoy the weightlessness for a brief second. It doesn’t matter now. Hopefully, the demon is long dead before you. At least you're dragging his ass with you…

“Hey, you aren’t dead, are ya?”

That voice…A male voice, without any doubt. So harsh and tempting at the same time that you can’t help but open your eyes in confusion.

Only to be met by purple ones. Male ones, to be exact. Are those...his arms wrapped around your trembling body?

“Let me go!”, you shriek.

It seems like all power that left your body appeared again while you miserably try to fight yourself out of his arms. Who is this man? Another demon, maybe?

“I won’t let you eat me!”

“Eating you? Are you dumb, woman? I’m a demon slayer”, the man in front of you barks, his hands roughly holding onto your arms in order to stop you from hitting him again.

“A demon slayer?” you repeat.

“Yeah, the wind hashira to be exact.”

Your gaze falls from his face to his exposed chest, his toned abs. He breathes heave while still holding onto your arms. Suddenly you feel so…hot.

“You are a demon slayer.”

With a swift motion, you free one of your hands and slap him so hard that he sees stars.

“It sure took you some time to get here! What about all the other women who died here, the countless young girls that were killed by demons you did nothing about? Why did you save me!?”

“I’m wondering that too”, Sanemi mutters under his breath.

Did you actually go inane? The way you look at him with your eyes completely furious, face and yukata smeared in your own blood. You can’t be serious about that, right?

“You should be thankful”, he finally hisses.

“Thankful!? YOU should be sorry!”

“Yeah, I’m sorry for saving you…you…you ungrateful thing!”

“I could have saved myself”, you argue.

“Oh, is that so?”

No, absolutely not. You would have died if it wasn’t for the wind hashira.

“Everything was under control”, you snap at him.

Nothing was under control. This was your last way out of your misery.

“Is it so hard to just be thankful?”, he argues.

“Who’s your new friend, Shinazugawa?”

“We aren’t friends”, both of you reply at once.

Your heavy breath hangs in the air, hands still clenched into fists. Deep down you know how wrong it is to snap at him, that the demon slayer corps aren’t responsible for the countless lives the demons took in this area. But still…Why does it have to be you they saved? Why not the girl next door who would have married the next day or the girl that was supposed to leave only days after she got killed? It’s not fair, it’s not enough, it’s-

You take a heavy step back when your vision starts to get foggy.

“I won’t catch that brat if she faints now”, the wind hashira grumbles.

“We both know you will.”

The last thing you see are his purple eyes before you fall straight into deep darkness.

-a few days later-

“She’s awake now, Shinazugawa. And she asked for you.”

He hates the way his heart skips a beat by hearing those innocent words from Shinobu. You didn’t leave his head. Despite the state of Oyakata-sama, despite the hashira training, despite the stinging fact that the king of demons himself will come for them, you were always on his mind. You, with your strong but feminine eyes. You, who jumped out of a window into certain death only to keep your body away from the mouths of these demons. You, who straight up slapped him. Was it your attitude that caught him off guard? He never experienced a woman saved by him being this ungrateful. Aren’t you aware of the fact that you would have died that night if it wasn’t for him?

“What do you want, brat?”

His words come out harsher than anticipated while your sight simply takes his breath away. Since he can remember, Sanemi was never interested in any women romantically. No, love is nothing but weakness, women mean nothing but trouble. But even though you glare at him with venomous eyes the second he enters the room, he can’t help but feel drawn towards you.  

“You’re a hashira, right?”

Your words sound just as harsh as his, your gaze meeting his with so much strength that it is him who starts to feel uncomfortable.

“Yeah, I already told you that-“

“Train me”, you interrupt him.

“I want to become a demon slayer and kick your ass.”

“You, kicking my ass?”

You grab the fabric of his uniform so roughly that he isn’t able to react, suddenly so close to you that he can feel the heat radiating from your body.

“Train me.”

“Fine brat. I’ll train you. But don’t think I’ll go easy on your ass.”

-bonus-

“Try to keep up, (y/n).”

His katana clashes into yours over and over, makes it hard to stand your ground. But still you fight back, your hands holding onto your sword so tightly that your knuckles stand out white. You just have to win. There is absolutely no way you’ll lose against your master again.

Especially since he’s your lover.

“Are you tired yet?”, he teases you with a smirk.

“Absolutely not”, you press out while dodging another hit just in time.

This won’t help. If you continue to fight like this, he’ll sweep you off your feet like all these countless times before. But what are you supposed to do? It almost seems as if Sanemi has no weakness.

Except you.

“But you’ll be when I’m done”, you purr.

That sudden change of mood catches him completely off guard, forces him to hesitate for the split of a second.

Enough for you to sweep him off his feet, your body resting on top of his while your blade hangs into his face.

“I won”, you announce triumphally.

“You cheated”, he protests underneath you.

“Demons play dirty as well. You need to be prepared for everything-“

All it takes his one swift motion for him to position himself on top of you, body forcing you onto the ground before you’re able to catch a breath.

“Imma show you how dirty playing really works, then.”

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @kayleegomez @ryva @baku2345 @komelrebi-san

[slasherbvnnie]

Until We Found You

Hello! This is my first time ever posting onto here, so please excuse any mistakes or any tags that may be missing. I wanted to write about a poly!ghostface au and age up all the characters and place them into college. I hope this gets at least a few reads!

Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII Part IX

Context: Modern Day College Scream AU, Obsessed AFAB!Reader, Eventual Poly!Ghostface x reader, Eventual NSFW, All characters 18+

You bit down on the tip of your pencil, chewing the metal part of it as you spaced out for the hundredth time today. A few days ago news broke of one of your best friends being killed, Casey Becker, and like every day since that fateful night, news reporters were swarming the campus. Woodsboro University was famous overnight for it, a crazed killer on the loose in the town and no one knew why Casey and her boyfriend Steve were the victims. What made it truly unnerving was that no one knew if they were going to be the only ones.

It didn’t make you scared, not really at least, you were more intrigued than worried if you were going to be the next person to get a mysterious phone call. No, you spent the next morning with Randy and learned all about what happened. How Steve was found bound to the chair, duct tape and blood practically branded onto him, and how the Beckers found Casey. She was one of your best friends, you couldn’t deny you felt like you needed some therapy for not crying for more than maybe an hour over her, but something in you was more interested in who did it.

That was what was on your mind for the hundredth time today, any of Casey’s boyfriends all the way to fucking pre-k could be a suspect, maybe her family, or maybe it was some random stranger who decided to take their anger out on an unsuspecting teenage girl. Randy and you talked all first period about your suspicions on who it could be, even accusing each other of being the killer, it did fit after all, the two horror buffs who knew every goddamn easter egg in every horror movie there was, it seemed perfect.

“Sidney, can you please tell your friend the answer to at least make it seem like she was listening?” Ms. Crane asked, Sidney nudging you and whispering the answer as the class laughed. “ah, um, phosphorus gas.” You answered, looking at Sidney with wide eyes after you answered. “Phosphine, but I will take that. You guys can pack up, let me take role before you all leave.” Ms. Crane said with a sigh.

“What’s up with you? Are you totally sure you don’t want to go to the grief counselor after school? I mean even Tate went-“ “Sid, I’m fine, seriously. I just, it’s freaky is all. I mean not knowing who did it? What if they have a thing for college chicks, I think we fit into that category very well and-“ “And we will be fine, it was probably just a one-time thing…I mean it's more likely that it is, right?” Sidney asked as she packed her bag, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Don’t sweat it, if you want you can stay at my place for the week, my dad’s on a trip and I would kinda enjoy the company,” she offered, smiling at you reassuringly. You gave a nod, “yeah, let me just at least spend tonight at my place, my mom will kill me if I miss dinner tonight and take off for a week out of the blue.” “Are you sure you’re really 19 and not 9?” Sidney asked jokingly, earning a laugh from you.

After dinner you had taken a shower, your parents had gone out for the night to take a late-night date- which you theorized was them renting a motel to not risk traumatizing you. You brushed out your hair as you sat down on your vanity chair, putting it into a braid before you went to bed. Your cat was sitting peacefully on your bed, moving every now and then to change her position before darting out of your room. “Irena!” You called after her, scoffing when she didn’t come back to the room. You put your hairbrush down onto your vanity, taking a look in the mirror before getting up from your seat. “I hope you don’t think you are eating even more food, missy, you got fed so much while I was at class today,” you said, acting as if Irena could really understand you. You made your way to your door, nearly walking out before noticing a paper had fallen onto the ground near your desk. You picked it up, reading the headline, Casey Becker and Steve Orth- funerals to be held on Friday the 27th at 9-11 AM. You sighed and set it down on the other papers stacked on your desk.

You walked out of your room, heading downstairs “Irena! Come on, I wanna go to bed,” you whined out, calling the cat to your room. You found her in the living room, hiding under the couch and refusing to come to you. “Fine, I’ll leave you a blanket out and don’t you dare come scratching at my door at 3 AM,” you told her, going to the hallway closet to get a blanket out for her. Once you had gotten one, you spread it out across the couch for her and said goodnight.

You were about halfway to your room when your phone began to buzz, digging it out of your pocket and seeing your mom's number you quickly answered. “Hey, what's up? You guys heading back already,” You asked, continuing up to your room.

“Heading back? Who said I ever left?” A strange voice asked on the other line, making you pause for a moment as you moved to make sure it was your mom. “Listen asshole, I don’t have more than 15 dollars in my bank account so have fun with whatever hot cheetos and mountain dew you can get with that,” you said before hanging up on them, putting your phone back into your pocket. You were up the stairs now, deciding to use the bathroom before you went to bed for the night but before you could open the door your phone rang again. “Didn’t I already say I don’t have money? What the fuck do you want?” You asked angrily, “Irena, right? Like Irena Dubrovna? Who did you prefer, Simone or Natassja?” The same voice asked you, making you look down the stairs. Irena hadn’t moved yet and no one was around her, or at least from what you could see. “If you hurt my fucking cat I will personally cut off your balls and feed them to he-“ A laugh from the caller cut you off, “I don’t have fun with animals. I’m not Bundy or Dahmer, I like to see my victims, human victims…struggle.” You heard your parent's bedroom door open, letting out a scream before running into your room and slamming the door shut, locking it quickly before the person began to bang on it. You looked around, going to your window and trying to lift it open.

The door cracked, it was like the scene from the shining, except this killer bore a white mask, you recognized it from the Halloween store- father death. You struggled with the window again, before giving up and grabbing the lamp from your bedside table and throwing it at them. The killer moved out of the way before they were hit, pushing their body against the door once more and climbing in through the opening. You could see them fiddle with their knife as if they had held it in their hands a hundred times already and were skilled at fidgeting with it.

You grabbed a glass organizer from your desk, taking the scissors from it before chucking the holder at them. The papers you had stacked before scattered from the throw as they fell down. You rushed to the window as they struggled to get up but never heard them stand. When your head whipped around to check if they were behind you, you instead saw them looking at the papers around them.

Masked killer, Casey and Steve headlines, Maureen Prescott, Cotton Weary trials, even the cutouts you had of Sidney from court. You were obsessed. There were drawings, suspects lists, hell all these needed were red kiss marks and ‘please fuck me mr ghostface!’ written in pink glitter pen ink.

You stared wide-eyed at them when you saw their gaze now on you, their head cocked to the side as a laugh sounded from behind the mask. Just then you heard the sound of gravel being crushed around from the driveway, your parent's car was pulling in, you saw them getting out from your window. When you turned back you noticed the person was gone, you ran downstairs and met your parents at the door, crying and beginning to blubber on about what nearly happened. 

[hadesoftheladies]

to my indian sisters, may you know your grief and anger are shared by many. may you create a more just world with your voices. you are the path toward a humane and fantastic future, you are the explorers and inventors our world desperately needs. your strength is the pride of the human race.

to my usa-american sisters, may you secure your rights and come together in a new and powerful way, pulling away from other divisions in order to come into your power and wrestle your country back from the self-destructive hands of men. to my native sisters especially, may your resilience in guarding the earth from the violence of men yield fruit. may your people roam their lands freely and without fear once again. may your daughters be rescued from the dim trucks of the military ghouls of a society merely pretending at civilization.

to my afghani sisters, may the world, sun and sky, once again see your beautiful faces. may your voices run as free, wild and far as the wind again in song.

to my sisters in iran, may you you once again dance without fear as boldly as the fire. may the evil world of men around you burn and may your daughters and mothers kick up its ashes. women. life. freedom.

to my south korean sisters, you are fiercer than anyone could have ever imagined, a beacon of hope to women everywhere. you have inspired a generation of women to reclaim what is rightfully theirs and there is no reward we could give that would ever measure up to that gift. i will do my best to follow your lead into freedom.

to my sisters in congo, no one knows the pain you have endured and no one can fathom it. i will keep my ear out for your weeping and your crying. i will not turn my face from you. i will see you.

to my sisters in sudan, you have done your best to bear more than can be humanly possible. i cannot comprehend the volume of your suffering. i cannot fathom it. but i refuse to forget you. i ache for you. may your stomachs once again be full and your bodies free of the pain of hunger. may you find shelter from the desert and the wild men that roam it.

to my tigrayan sisters, you should never have had to suffer for the hatred and greed in men's hearts. may your world be once again filled with friends instead of enemies.

to my sisters trapped and corralled in deutschland, may you break out from the display windows and trafficking pens. may your body find rest and comfort. may you find home and love. may you go to bed at night and fear nothing. may the district one day go completely dark.

to my sisters in palestine, may you see the day you rebuild what had been utterly destroyed. may your every need be met and your grief validated. may your anguish be taken from you. may abundance surround you and may there be laughter once again in your homes.

to the immigrant women, the working class women, the mothers, the schoolgirls, the women in cities and countries facing rising rates of femicide and assault, the victims of cyber-bullying . . .

there are so many of us, suffering at the hands of incessant male violence. no matter the age, income, or ethnicity. no matter the location. it is everywhere. and so i grieve with all of you, i am angry on all your behalf, i hope for all of us. and i will do what i can to let you know you are not alone in the world. we are here, all of us, together.

may we all be free.

[sunlighthroughthe-ashes]

there's a translated scrap of plato that eventually found its way into a letter sent by emily dickinson: "i wish you a kinder sea."

seascape scenes in k-dramas can often be so trite — but love next door's characterization was beautiful. seunghyo pitching seokryu into the water might seem like an act of anger — but it's actually liberation. it's a rebirth; a re-emergence — a place of salt that can settle her tears. water is renewal: a washing place for wounds. a tincture to clear away the bitter and broken; and allow the touch of tenderness.

though seokryu is scared of water; in the sea she is safe: the waves hold the weight of her hurt and desperation as she screams at seungyo. he knows what she needs — he has always known what she needs. he stands still — takes the tips of her fingers striking him as what it is — finally, a surrender to all the emotions she refused to succumb to. a clearing of the air. an opening into a freer intimacy.

there were so many beautiful moments during this episode: the power of a simple "we'll hit rock bottom together." seokryu's ex was heartbreakingly right — what she needed wasn't someone to lift her up, but someone to fall down with her. when someone is in pain you sit with them in the dark; and look up at the impossibility of light together.

this is what seungyo has always understood so effortlessly about seokryu — that this is love: to climb down into the ravine of regret and raw hurt where the person you love has fallen — not to pull them out; but give them company. when people are in agony you must give them the dignity of their deep hurt — you must nurture the narrow, serrated edges of their sorrow. seunghyo taking seokryu to see off her ex — folding his coat around her to create a private hollow to express her heartache: it speaks of a man who understands that grief is not meant to be overcome; but gathered in the hands and given respect. attention. understanding.

this is love: to say "when you cry, it is my eyes that fill with salt. when you scream, it is my throat that burns. when you fall down, it is my knees that bruise in the color of your eyes."

this is love: to wish someone a kinder sea. a clearer day. a warmer hug.

this is seunghyo.

[builtbybrokenbells]

Poolsides & Pizza Boxes | JTK (2 of 2)

A friendly hangout and an innocent drinking game turns into a troublesome affair.

Read part one here

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word count: 20.5k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f!receiving), oral (m!receiving), face-sitting, rough sex, risky sex ig, semi-public sex, exhibitionism, dry humping, dom/sub dynamic, sir kink, degradation, praise, impact play, spit play, brief mentions of free use kink, biting, name calling, hair pulling, slight touch of cum play, multiple orgasm, touch of forced orgasm, simultaneous orgasm, angst (in the beginning), mentions of unrequited love, crying, arguing, feelings of rejection/self-doubt/anger/sadness, fluff, drinking, swearing, sorry if i miss any!

here you go ☺️ I can’t wait to hear what you guys think of part two. thank you for all the sweet comments on pt. 1 🤍 as always, enjoy, be kind, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes!!

The whole group was silent, all of you trying your best to come to terms with the major play Jake made. Eventually, when the silence became too much, Jake let out a nervous laugh. “What, don’t tell me I have to skinny dip?” He asked, only slightly nervous at the thought. “What is it? I can’t see the board.”

“Son of a bitch.” You muttered to yourself, keeping the words under your breath. “You can’t see the board?” You asked, unable to believed he’d been playing the game that way. “Like, the whole time?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” He laughed, unsure why it was such a big deal to you. “What did I get?” You turned to face him, your expression grave and the look in your eyes lethal as you caught his gaze.

“Singles kiss, Jake.” You said, slowly. At first, he laughed at your intensity, then as the words began to sink in, his smile faded.

“O-oh,” he replied, swallowing hard at the realization.

“You heard her, Jake.” Josh grinned, thrilled at the twisted turn of events. He sat back, leaning into his partner with a smug smirk on his face. “Singles kiss.”

“Is there another option? Like kiss or drink?” You asked, desperate to get yourself out of the awkward situation.

“That’s not what the board says, darling.” Josh said, crossing his arms over his chest as he awaited your response.

“What about Danny and Sierra! They’re single, too!” You cried, sitting up and throwing your arm in the direction of the two sat side by side. Josh’s expression became quizzical, urging you to look in their direction with his eyes. You turned your head towards them, finding them already in a handsy embrace, lips locked together. Your shoulders slumped under the weight of your grief and your eyes fell to the ground.

“They know how to play by the rules.” Roman piped up, smiling sweetly at you.

“So what? It’s a game, what does it matter?” You argued.

“Honour, my dearest friend!” Josh boomed. “If I can’t trust you now, how could I ever trust you again?” He fought back, just as intense. “I think a kiss is in order, trouble.” Roman nodded in agreement, placing a hand on Josh’s shoulder. You let out a sigh of defeat, knowing there was no way out of the situation. Instead, you turned your head to look at Jake, who still seemed stunned at the prospect.

“Why not, right?” You asked, giving a nervous chuckle.

“Uh, y-yeah.” He nodded, clearing his throat slightly. His eyes were glassy, telling you all you needed to know about his level of intoxication. Before you had a chance to further your conversation, a chorus of chants filled the air.

“Oh, god.” You groaned, covering your face with your hands. The repetition of the word ‘kiss’ was growing louder by the second, and everyone seemed to join in.

“We don’t have to, Jake.” You whispered, trying your hardest to drone out the peer pressure. “I swear, it’s fine.”

“No, s’okay.” He took a deep breath, bargaining with himself. “Part of the game, right? Doesn’t mean anything.” You couldn’t help but feel a stab in your chest when he equated it to nothing. You couldn’t tell him, but you wanted it to at least mean something. That’s all you ever wanted, was to just be something more than you already were, but he never seemed to catch on.

“Yeah, exactly. Doesn’t mean a thing.” You forced a smile out, nodding in agreement. You tried to convince yourself to enjoy it, to kiss him despite knowing it was nothing to him and be happy with it. After all, something was better than nothing, and even if it meant nothing, the action was still better than never doing it at all.

“Right.” Jake nodded, taking a deep breath. “‘Cause we’re friends, you know. Nothing more than that. It’s just a game, and friends kiss all the time, right?” You felt sick as he continued to ration with himself, unable to tell him how badly he was hurting you with his drunken rambling.

“Y-yeah, f’course they do.” You agreed, your words strained and your chest aching. What happened to the pool, when he was so eager to be so close and he was disappointed when you broke the contact? What happened to the wandering hands and the excitement that was impossible to hide? Did he really only feel that way about you because he wanted sex, and now that he had time to think, he knew better than that? “We don’t have to do this, Jacob.” You reiterated your point, ensuring he knew you weren’t forcing him to go along with the idea.

“No, it’s okay.” He said again, his words firm. Finally, a flash of the man that held you in the pool began to resurface, and you felt your fears ease for a moment. “Who knows? It might be nice.” He offered, his eyes scanning your face for any discomfort. The chanting in the background still hadn’t ceased, but it became easier to drone it out when you were focused on his face. He was breathtakingly beautiful, and you weren’t sure if it was helping or doing nothing other than making you more nervous.

“Yeah, it might be nice.” Your lips twitched into a small smile, happy at the thought. His hand on your hip tightened, a small reassurance that he was okay and comfortable with the situation.

“Come here, then.” He said, placing the beer bottle in his cup holder and raising his hand to your cheek. His palm cupped your face, the warmth radiating through you and making your heart beat just a little bit faster. You shifted slightly, giving yourself better access to him. “You look very pretty today, trouble.” He smiled, trying to make the whole thing a little more natural for you.

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Jacob.” You returned the sentiment, biting down on the inside of your lip as your cheeks dusted red. You thanked the night sky for making your blushing all the less obvious. He leaned forward slightly, taking in a shaky breath as you copied his action.

It felt like the world was in slow motion, and the two of you were frozen together in time. As his nose brushed yours, similar to how it did earlier that day, your entire body flooded with an unfamiliar feeling. You had never felt so strongly about anyone, and now that you had the opportunity to express yourself even in the slightest of ways, you could barely contain your excitement. He brushed the hair from your face, resting his forehead on yours as he continued to move closer. You were almost there, your lips so close to his that you could practically feel them on your own. Your stomach was twisted in a knot and your eyes fluttered closed as you prepared for the final moment.

You leaned forward to bridge the gap, but a sudden and unexpected move on his part threw you off course completely. Just as your lips were about to connect with his own, he turned his head. His forehead slipped off of yours, and your lips landed on his cheek. Your eyes snapped open, your entire body flooded with embarrassment as you realized he had rejected you in the most blunt and painful way possible, in front of all of your friends.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” he muttered, his eyes squeezed shut from his own embarrassment. “I can’t.” You recoiled as if he shot you, your entire body ablaze with his rejection and your eyes brimming with unshed tears.

“You can’t.” You repeated, allowing the words to sink in. You took in a shaky breath, looking over his apologetic stare one last time. “Right.” You nodded, making quick work at sliding off his lap and standing on your feet. Your whole body was numb from the plethora of pain in your heart, and you stumbled as you took a step backwards trying to get away from him.

“Trouble, wait.” Jake said, making a move to stand and follow you. You shook your head, carefully weaving through the chairs and making your way towards the door. As tears spilled on to your cheeks, you slid inside and closed the door behind you, feeling like your head was going to explode. You made it through the kitchen and halfway up the stairs before you heard yelling from outside through the open windows, and you made it to your bedroom door before the sliding door in your kitchen opened once again.

You closed your bedroom door and locked it before you let the tears really begin to roll. The moment of seclusion allowed for you to feel the rejection a million times more. You couldn’t believe you were naïve enough to think he would ever feel the same way about you, and stupid enough to believe that you even had a chance. Now, you knew better, and so did everyone else in your life. You were disappointed that he did not feel the same, but you were more upset that he showed you in such a blunt manner in front of so many people. You wished he could have just said no, rather than lead you to believe he would and then change his mind at the drop of a dime, moments later.

A knock on your door shook you from the thought momentarily, but not enough to stop the flow of tears. “Come on, trouble. Talk to me, please.” The voice did nothing but strike another wave of sadness within you.

“Go away, Jake.” You argued, trying to keep your voice steady.

“I can hear you crying, beautiful.” He bargained with you. “Let me explain.”

“No need, Jacob. I heard you, loud and clear.” You dismissed him, knowing that there was no explanation that could atone for the hurt he caused. You couldn’t let him see you in such a state, especially when he knew it was over him.

“Okay.” He sighed. “Everyone is pretty drunk, so they’re going to head to bed. Come and find me when you want to talk.” He waited, hoping you would open the door, but he was met with nothing. He stood for a few moments longer, wondering if you would at least say something, even if he didn’t deserve it. When you solidified your stance on the matter, you could hear him begin to retreat downstairs.

You let out a long breath, doing all you could to calm yourself down. You discarded the still damp bikini from your body, walking through the door to your ensuite bathroom. You flipped the faucet on in the bathtub and pulled the stop for the shower head. You let the water heat up before you climbed inside, beginning a slow process of cleaning the chlorine and misery from yourself. You washed your hair before dousing it in conditioner, slowly combing through the knots with your fingers. When it was fully coated, you used a clip to hold it to your head while you washed your body. By the time you rinsed the suds from your skin, the sobs had slowed to an occasional tear, leaving nothing but puffy eyes and a red nose. You rinsed your hair and stepped out, wrapping yourself in the biggest towel you could find.

You washed any remaining makeup from your skin and put on some lotion to sooth the irritation from crying. You towel dried your hair and stepped back into your bedroom to change. At your closet, you brushed past all of the shirts belonging to Jake, finding the clothes too painful to look at. Eventually, you settled on a large t-shirt that you had stolen from your older brother nearly a decade ago. You slipped it on, finding it fall to your mid-thigh. You grabbed a pair of underwear from one of the drawers in your dresser and stepped into them.

By the time you were dressed, most of the sadness had passed, settling into a dull ache as you approached the window of your bedroom. You gazed out into the yard, noticing the patio was empty, and clean. All of the beer bottles had been thrown out, along with the dreaded pizza box. The pool floaties had been pulled out of the water and sat to dry on the cement. A sad smile crossed your lips, knowing it was likely Jake who had done so in an attempt to apologize. You let out a sigh, crawling into bed and under the covers after plugging your phone in to charge. You let your head rest on the pillows, figuring that sleeping away the misery was the best way to go about it. In the morning, you would have a clear head and a better chance at resolving things peacefully.

You were angry and hurt, embarrassed and resentful over the entire situation, but Jake was your best friend. No matter what, you never wanted that to change. In the years of friendship with him, the two of you had never fought over anything substantial, and never over anything like this. It was killing you to be mad at him at all, but you couldn’t help it. You stared up at the ceiling, listening to the clock tick away the minutes as you remained wide awake. For some reason, sleep did not seem to want to come, and it was growing more irritating by the second.

Eventually, you let out a huff of discontent as the material of your comforter became scratchy against your bare legs. You turned over to face your nightstand, reaching for the glass of water that always seemed to be there. When you were met with nothing but your alarm and a half-empty bottle of perfume, you collapsed against the mattress and let out a groan of anger.

You figured that everyone would be asleep by now; the long day of swimming and drinking in the sun would be taking its toll. One couple would take post in your office, sharing the unusually comfortable futon. Someone else would be in the guest room, and one couple on an air mattress in the downstairs living room. Usually, when life was normal and you and Jake weren’t fighting, he would be upstairs with you, already fast asleep without a worry in the world. Knowing him so well, you figured he either drank himself to sleep on the couch or angrily stumbled home, waiting to text you as soon as the sun rose in the sky.

You and Jake worked so well as friends because you knew how each other worked. You knew what he was thinking without him saying it, and he knew how you were feeling just by the look on your face. The two of you knew when to take a step back to avoid a fight, because space was important to both of you and communicating only worked when you weren’t angry. It was a huge comfort knowing someone so well, because it allowed for the two of you to lean on each other when times were tough.

This time, you had no idea where to start.

In the pool, he was keen on the idea of touching you and holding you, and definitely okay with the position you were in. He was sad when you pulled away, disappointed that things got cut short. When he had the opportunity to kiss you, he completely disregarded it and embarrassed you in front of everyone. He chalked it up to two friends locking lips as a joke as if he wasn’t feeling you up an hour before when everyone was gone. You didn’t know what he was thinking, certainly not what he was feeling, and it was killing you.

Then, the worst thought of all struck you.

Did he only want to be with you when nobody else was looking? Was he embarrassed about being attracted to you, or did he really not feel that way about you at all and dreaded the idea of anyone thinking he did?

‘Stop it, Y/N.’ You forced the thoughts out of your head, knowing overthinking wouldn’t do anything but worsen the problem. You would talk to him in the morning when you both cooled down, and you would settle the score. You would go back to being friends, because it’s what you were good at. You weren’t good with romance, and the only time your relationship was complicated was when you started to think of him as something more.

Water.

Water would fix it. You would sneak downstairs past sleeping drunkards and grab a nice glass of water from the fridge. It would clear your head and curb the oncoming hangover, and it would put you to sleep, which you desperately needed.

You climbed from the bed, knowing there was no sense in searching for a pair of pyjama pants when everyone was asleep, anyway. Quietly, you snuck out of your room and down the stairs, hearing snores from your office and the guest bedroom. You walked past the living room, sneaking a peek and Josh and Roman fast asleep on the air mattress on the floor. A small smile crossed your lips, even if you were annoyed with the two for being a catalyst in your current fight with Jake. You turned the corner to the kitchen, carefully maneuvering around the chairs pulled from the table. Before you could reach the refrigerator door, you froze in your tracks.

“What are you doing, Jake?” You sighed, looking to him sitting at the head of the table, leaned back in the chair with his ankles crossed. He was shirtless, clad only in a pair of sweatpants and his hair was slightly damp. As angry and as hurt as you were, you could not refute how attracted you were to him.

“Waiting for you.” He said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. He rolled his eyes at your quizzical look, giving a sigh of his own before he continued. “I lived with you for almost a year, Y/N. I know you need a glass of water by your bed, or you can’t sleep. I knew you would come down to get it, so I waited for you… and here you are.” He motioned to you, standing only in a t-shirt with a dumbfounded look on your face.

“Go home, Jake.” You rolled your eyes, grabbing a glass from the cupboard and opening the fridge. You filled it from the pitcher, placing it back in its spot and kicking the door shut.

“I’m not going home until we talk about it.” He said, his lips turned down into a frown.

“There’s nothing to talk about. I heard you, loud and clear.” You reiterated your point from earlier, trying to hide the distaste in your tone. You turned to walk back into the hallway, almost escaping before he started again.

“There is.” He argued, trying to keep his voice quiet as he begged you to stay. He didn’t want anyone to wake up, to interrupt the moment he’d been waiting all night for. You paused in your tracks, picking up on the urgency in his tone and realizing that maybe you should stay, just to listen at least. Then, as you stood in place, the anger began to return to you.

“What? So we can talk about how bad you don’t want to kiss me? The thought was so terrible that you couldn’t even muster up the strength to do it once? For a game?”

“Y/N, that’s not—“

“No, it is, Jake. I asked you if you wanted to stop, twice! I said we didn’t have to do it, but you said you would, and you made me look like the fucking idiot for thinking that you might actually want to.” You said, pointing a finger at him as tears began to brim your eyes again. “And even if you did, it would mean nothing, right? ‘Cause it was just for the game, and friends kiss all the time. No big deal.” You scoffed, ready to turn on your heel again and leave.

“Christ, Y/N, what is your problem?” He asked, the intensity of the moment growing by the second. He stood from the table, desperate to get to the bottom of your anger. “I get it, that was a terrible thing to say, but I was nervous, and I was put on the spot. I’m sorry I panicked!”

“There’s no ‘but’, Jacob! I mean, what the fuck?” You exclaimed, raising your hand in frustration and letting it fall back to your side. “In the pool, when everyone was gone, you had no problem with it. Clearly, you enjoyed it! So, what is it? You’re only interested in me when nobody’s around to judge you for it?” He physically recoiled at the sound of your words, a look of horror crossing his face as he realized that’s what you thought. He took three long strides towards you, grabbing your arms in his hand as he prepared to confess the truth about the matter.

“You know better than that, trouble.” He said, his words firm but his tone returning to normal. “It’s not like that; you have to believe me.”

“Then what is it, Jake? Because that’s what it feels like, and it’s killing me, and—“

“If you let me talk for a second, I will tell you!” He cut you off, tightening his grip on your arms as he shook you out of the moment of rambling. It was gentle, playful, and exactly what you needed to snap out of it. A laugh fell from your lips, quiet but definitely noticeable. He smiled back, happy to know that despite the confusion and pain, you and him were still the same people.

“Sorry.” You said, sheepishly looking towards the floor. “I get too intense sometimes.”

“Yeah, you think?” He laughed, lifting your chin with his finger so he could take a good look over your face. “It’s okay, trouble. I know you, and it’s okay.” He assured you. “Can I talk now, please? I’ve been sitting here for two hours, looking like an idiot.”

“Yeah, okay.” You nodded, giving a sad smile. You felt bad for accusing him of such things, but your own head was your worst enemy. That in addition to the fact you had never really fought with Jake before made for a deadly combination.

“I wanted to, Y/N, just not like that.” He said, making sure you were actually listening to what he was saying.

“Not like that?” You cocked your head to the side, curious about what he truly meant.

“No, not like that.” He sighed. “Not as a part of a game, when everyone was watching. I didn’t want that for us, trouble.”

“What do you want for us, Jake?” You asked, your voice quiet and your heart aching.

“I…” he trailed off, his expression dropping slightly. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” You asked, hurt but trying to remain calm.

“I don’t! What do you want, trouble?” You thought about his words, shifting uncomfortably on your feet as he put you on the spot.

“I don’t know, either.”

“So stop making me sound like the bad guy! This is weird and confusing, and we’ve never been in this situation before.” He pleaded. You nodded again, sad that you couldn’t seem to stop saying the wrong thing.

“The pool, Jake. What was that?”

“The heat of the moment, I guess?” He said, giving a slight shrug. “You looked so pretty, and you held on to me like that, and it felt good. It felt like the right thing to do at the time.”

“But not now?” You asked, trying to get to the bottom of it. You were so confused, still sad and angry, but relieved that the two of you were at least trying to work it out.

“Stop putting words in my mouth, Y/N. I didn’t say that.” He snapped, his fuse running short.

“You know what, Jake? It’s fine. This is all fine, water under the bridge, forgotten about. We make great friends, we’ve always been good at it, so let’s not fuck it up, now.” You forced the words out, wanting to say anything but that, but it seemed like the only way to make things better. He didn’t know how he was feeling, and if he didn’t know, you certainly couldn’t confess how you felt. “You don’t have to kiss me, and you don’t have to feel bad about not wanting to. It’s okay, and we can wake up tomorrow like it never happened.” You breathed, taking a step away from him.

“That’s it? That’s what you want to do?”

“No, but it seems like you do!” You shot back. “Goodnight, Jake. I’ll see you in the morning.” You turned towards the stairs, trying to hold back your tears until you were alone again, but before you could make it to the hallway, he reached out and grabbed your hand.

When he spun you around, you expected the argument to continue. You expected tears to fall and him to agree with your sentiments in the end, making the fight worth little at all. Instead, once you were facing him, he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you closer. Before you could process what he was doing, one hand came up to hold the back of your head as he brought his lips to yours. It was unlike anything you’d ever experienced before. His lips were soft, slick with saliva as they moved against your own, and he tasted sweet. His hands on you made your head spin, the strength in which he was holding you could only be equated to his own desperation, and your heart was threatening to beat straight out of your chest.

As the kiss continued, you feared you would drop the glass of water straight on the floor, but you didn’t care enough to stop him. You were on top of the world, the moment even better than any of the fallacies and daydreams you’d created in your mind. Finally, after so long of pining for him, you had him, and you never wanted to let him go.

Eventually, he pulled away, but did not move very far. His forehead rested on your own, and his shoulders shook with the heavy breaths he was taking. Both of you were at a loss for words, but you felt the need to say something.

“Did you shower? You smell like me.” You asked, nervous and unsure if your question would ruin the whole thing. Thankfully, he let out a laugh, nodding gently against you.

“Yeah, I did. I miss when you lived at my house and I stole your shampoo when mine ran out. It’s always so much better.”

“Right.” You swallowed hard, smiling at him as you tried to feel out the emotion in the room. You didn’t know what he was thinking, and it was bothering you more than you cared to admit. Rarely was there a time when you couldn’t read him, but the entire day had been strange and unusual.

“I wanted to kiss you, trouble. I have for a long time, but I wanted to do it right. I’m sorry I hurt you. I really didn’t want to, but it would have hurt more if you thought it didn’t mean anything to me.” He explained. “And in the pool, I wanted to do that, too. I’ve been thinking about it since I came up with the idea of getting a pool. I know you choose not to see it, and that’s okay, but I’m crazy about you, Y/N, and I have been for a really long time. If they hadn’t come back, I would’ve had my way with you right there in the pool if you would have let me.”

“Jake…” you breathed, unable to process everything all at once. You wanted to jump for joy, to tell him you felt the same way and you were ecstatic to hear him say it, but you were frozen in place. You waited so long to hear it that you had a hard time believing it was real.

“It means something to me, trouble. It means so much to me and I was scared that it wouldn’t mean anything to you. Friends don’t kiss all of the time, and I’m kissing you because as much as I love being your friend, I want more than that. Waking up next to you every day was the best feeling in the whole world, even if it wasn’t the way I wanted to. I want you, Y/N, and I’m not embarrassed about it, or anything like that. I’m scared, and I didn’t want you to see it.”

“It means something to me too, Jake. It means everything to me, and I was so scared you didn’t feel the same way. I want that, too. I want it so bad that it makes my chest hurt and my head spin, and I deny it so much when Josh says it because I was terrified of losing you.” You explained, setting your glass down on the table. “I was heartbroken when I thought you didn’t want to kiss me, because that’s all I want you to do.”

“Then let me do it.” He said, serious but playful. A smile was on his lips, showing how happy he was that everything was out in the air. “Stop trying to run away, or say goodnight, because I don’t want to go to sleep, and I want to kiss you, trouble. Let me make up for it, please.”

“Okay.” You giggled, reaching up and wrapping your arms around his neck. “Kiss me, then.” With that, he leaned forward, both of his hands dropping to your hips as he brought his lips to yours once again.

This time, it was more comfortable and less urgent. His fingers tightened on you, the fabric of your shirt bunching up in his hands as he pulled you closer. You tangled your fingers in the hair at the base of his neck, the feeling strange but something you were excited to get used to. Everything about the kiss was perfect, exactly what you hoped it would be, but somehow even better than that. It had little to do with the action itself, and everything to do with how right it felt to be in his arms in such a way. After so many years, the both of you knew that it would eventually lead to this, but self-doubt and fear got in the way. It seemed as though everyone else knew long before you did.

When his tongue pushed past your lips, the moment seemed more real than it did before. The taste of him on your tongue sent you spiralling, your body quickly remembering how good it felt to be so close to him. The sexual tension from the pool had left both of you confused and curious, wondering how the situation evolved so quickly. Now that you understood how good it felt to kiss him, you knew the situation did not evolve quickly at all. In fact, it took you years to get there, and one awkward fight over a drinking game.

This was where you were meant to be all along, but both of you were too stubborn to admit it. All of the failed talking stages and flings that amounted to nothing more finally made sense; you were looking for the perfect person in all the wrong places, because he was standing in front of you the whole time, buying kiddie pools and getting ice cream on summer days. He was there, buying plane tickets to see you when your friends hurt your feelings and getting front row seats to every graduation. He was there, calling you every night to see if you were okay, doing everything in his power to keep you happy, and helping you move into his house when you needed him.

Jake was the person you were looking for all along, and you were the same to him; you never needed any romantic fulfillment, because a romantic relationship with someone else paled in comparison to spending every day with Jake, even if it was platonic. He understood you, he cared about you, and he loved you unconditionally, no matter the situation. Talking stages always failed with someone else because you had always been in love with and waiting for him.

The intensity of the kiss did not take long to grow, leaving both of you feeling a little more desperate and a lot more confident. His hands slipped under your shirt, his fingers tracing the seam on your underwear on your hip. You couldn’t help but feel like he was wearing too many clothes, and you were thrown right back into the endless pit of emotion you were stuck in as you were wrapped around him in the pool.

His hands flattened against the back of your thighs as he crouched down slightly. He pulled back only for a second as he lifted you off your feet. A gasp left your lips at the sudden movement, and as an instinctual reaction, you locked your legs around his waist. His hands settled on your ass, his grip firm to reassure you that he would never let you fall. The new position was comfortable and exciting, your hips now meeting his in a long overdue reuinion.

“Remember what I said about starting things you couldn’t finish?” He asked, his voice thick with emotion as he looked over your face. His lips were swollen, pink from the constant attention you were giving him, and they were permanently upturned into an irritatatingly beautiful smile.

“Something like that, yeah.” You said, purposefully acting forgetful to get on his nerves. “I think it was you that started it, though.”

“No sweetheart, that was you, walking around in that slutty little bikini all day.” He corrected, taking a step towards the kitchen table. “Sitting on my lap and expecting me not to fuck you?” Your face flushed at his words and you felt the familiar ache between your legs. “Now I have to finish this, and that means we do it my way.” He said, his voice quiet but his tone gruff. He sat you down in the edge of the kitchen table, looking over your face to see any sign of discomfort. “That sound good to you, beautiful?”

“Yes, s-si—“ you cut yourself off, your face burning red as you realized how you were about to address him. He noticed your sudden change of heart, furrowing his brows as he gave you quizzical stare. How were you supposed to address him? Sir seemed like too much for the first time, and you didn’t want to cross any boundaries with him.

‘Daddy?’ You thought to yourself, wondering if maybe he would prefer that. You looked over his face for a moment, feeling stupid for even thinking that. ‘Absolutely not.’ You felt ridiculous for even questioning something like that, and all you wanted to do was shy away from him. It had been so long since you had done anything sexual that all of your game seemed to disappear. That, and the fact that he made you unbelievably nervous. ‘Stop overthinking this. It’s Jake, you know him, and he knows you. It’s fine.’

“What’s wrong, trouble?” He asked, concerned about your sudden withdrawal. You snapped out of your thoughts, your stomach churning with unease and unfortunately, the most intense sexual desire you’d ever felt in your entire life. The entire situation was new, and it was scary. You had known Jake for so long, but never like this, and you were terrified of saying or doing the wrong thing.

“I just… I don’t know how to do this.” You confessed, the words rushing out in a mess of awkward laughter.

“You… you don’t know how to do this?” He raised an eyebrow, an amused expression on his face.

“No, not like that!” You laughed, defending yourself. “I know how to have sex, but I don’t know how to have sex with you.” You clarified. Now, he was laughing with you, and although the awkward moment had passed, you were still embarrassed about slowing the momentum between you.

“I would like to think that it would be the same as having sex with anyone else… except, you know, better, maybe?” You felt like you were going to shrivel up and die at the sound of his words. You had to talk to him, to communicate the things you were feeling, but you couldn’t. It had never been so hard to talk to him before about anything, and you knew it was due to the plethora of feelings coursing through you all at once. You never actually believed the two of you would end up in a situation like this one, and you were terrified of everything.

“I would imagine that it would be the same, Jake.” You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest in attempt to hide yourself from him. “As for better, I don’t know yet, so I can’t really comment any further.” At that, another laugh fell from his lips, making you realize he was more than okay with the pause. He wasn’t judging you, and he didn’t think you were stupid; in fact, the whole thing was probably just as strange for him as it was for you. “I just… this is weird, right? We’ve been friends for so long, and I don’t know how we’re supposed to have sex.”

“Okay, then. Let’s talk it out.” He said, giving you a genuine smile to let you know he was more than okay with it. “Usually, I start with taking some clothes off, but if that’s not your thing, we can work around it. Then—“ you cut him off with a smack on the arm, laughing but slightly annoyed with his inability to take you seriously.

“Jake, I mean it.” You laughed, smiling up at him in disbelief.

“I know, sweetheart, I’m just trying to make you feel better.” He chuckled, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. “I know you, and I know you can’t do anything without talking about it first, so let’s talk. It’s me, trouble, you don’t have to be scared of anything.”

“I know, I’m sorry, but isn’t this just a little weird for you? It’s hot, like really hot, and I really want to do it, but like… what do I call you? Is there things that you don’t like that I shouldn’t do? Or are you into really weird stuff that I’ll have to learn to like?” You asked, your face burning as you squeezed in one last joke. Another laugh shook his shoulders, and you relaxed again. You were overthinking something that was so simple; the dynamic between you two was always so easygoing, and this should be too.

“No weird stuff, I promise.” He laughed, cupping your cheek in his palm. “Well, unless you consider relatively normal things weird, I guess.”

“What does that mean?” You felt yourself start to panic again, but the sound of his laugh soothed your mind.

“Baby, stop freaking yourself out.” He hummed, tilting your head upwards towards him. You felt your heart skip a beat at such a domestic sounding pet name. It felt so good to be called such a thing by him, and even better that it felt like you were his. “It’s just me.” He reiterated the same point.

“You’re right, I’m sorry, Jake.” You sighed, reaching up and placing a hand over his. He leaned forward, pressing a small kiss to your forehead.

“You don’t have to be sorry for anything.” He promised. “Let’s talk about it, I know it’ll make you feel better.”

“Yeah, it will.” You agreed, letting out a small sigh.

“Ask away.” He said, running his thumb over your cheek. The sensation felt so good, so normal for the two of you. You were being crazy, and you knew it.

“What do you prefer to be… called?” You asked, looking up at him.

“I’ll answer to whatever you call me… Jake, baby, or any variation of that really… Uhm, lover, but only if you’re really into it.” At that, the both of you shared a childish giggle. His lighthearted response eased all of the work in your mind. “And… sir, too.” He cleared his throat slightly after he said it, averting his gaze as if he was nervous to say it.

“Really? I think I prefer lover.” You grinned, joining in on the joke. He rolled his eyes, playful and relaxed as he did so. “Sir is good.” You said, finally deciding to take him seriously. “I haven’t done this in a really long time, Jake, and I’m scared it’s not going to be… good for you, you know?”

“You could slap me in the face and leave me here all night, and I’m sure I’d still enjoy it, because you’re the one who did it.” He replied, clearly more comfortable when the two of you were joking. “You don’t need to worry about that, angel. I want you, and we’ll figure the rest out, okay?”

“That sounds good to me.”

“Good.” He crooned, leaning down and placing a small kiss to your lips. “I’m not going to be too rough with you, but if you need to stop, just tell me. I want you to feel good. That’s all that matters to me.”

“Okay.” You breathed. “You can be a little rough, you know, if you feel like it.” As the words reached his ears, his eyebrows raised and his mouth parted slightly in shock, as if he wasn’t expecting you to say such a thing.

“Okay,” he said, a gleam of excitement in his eye. “Now that that’s settled, I’ll tell you how this is going to work.” He continued, his voice still gentle, but a little more domineering. “I’m in charge, beautiful. Don’t get that twisted.” He leaned forward, pressing a tentative kiss to your jaw. A shiver of excitement ran down your spine as you felt his lips touch you again.

Slowly, he brought his attention down your neck, exploring the soft skin so he could know you a little better. As his lips landed atop the sensitive spot just below your ear, a breathy moan left your lips, barely noticeable even in the static silence. He let out a hum of satisfaction, happy to have found a sweet spot already. His tongue ran over the area, gentle as he tested his limits. When your hand raised to his bicep, grasping it and pulling him closer, he suctioned his lips to your neck and sucked a mark into the skin.

“If you’ll let me, I’m going to finish what you started, but you have to be good for me, okay?” He said, his lips still ghosting over the love bite he left on your neck.

“Yes, sir.” You whispered, much more comfortable with the word now that you talked to him about it.

“That’s it, baby.” You could feel him smile against you. The praise washed over you, settling deep in the pit of your stomach and prompting a rush of emotion straight to your core. A new found confidence washed over you, and you brought your free hand between your bodies and reached down. You wanted to feel him, to know he wanted you just as bad as you wanted him. Your hand settled over the bulge in his sweatpants, his cock hard and aching for relief just the same as it was in the pool. He sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth at the feeling of you touching him, clearly enjoying anything you were willing to give him.

Without thinking too much about it, you began to palm him through his boxers, the pressure just enough for him to feel it through the fabric, and enough to show your enthusiasm now that the awkwardness had melted away.

“Do you get it now? Do you feel how fucking bad I want you?” He hissed, his mouth still hovering over your neck. His warm breath on your skin was exhilarating, and the words he was saying was music to your ears. “Do you know what I would have done to you if they waited to come back, just a little while longer?” You wanted to squeeze your thighs together, just for a touch of relief from the incessant throbbing between your legs, but you didn’t fully thing it through before you did so. As your legs came together, all it did was pull him closer to you, making the sensation so much worse.

“What did you want to do to me, baby?” You asked, playing innocent in hopes that he would continue talking to you. The sound of his voice was overwhelming in the best possible way, the only constant, familiar comfort amidst all of the new sensations.

“I would have bent you over the side of that fucking pool and showed you how much you mean to me.” He said, his gruff tone doing nothing to satiate your need for him. “Do you know how long I’ve waited for this? Waking up to you every morning, sleeping beside me and having to force myself out of that bed.” He muttered the last part more to himself, still angry that he never found the courage to make a move sooner. “And you thought you were smart, but I knew what you were doing, sweetheart. Every morning, you moved just a little bit closer, and I woke up to that perfect little ass pressed up against me. Did you want me to fuck you, or did you just want to see how far you could take it before you got yourself in trouble?”

With that, he used his hand on your hip to pull you closer to the edge of the table. You retracted your hand from between you, and as he guided you forward, your legs wrapped around him, pulling him further into you. Through clothing, his cock brushed against your core, finally giving you a breath of relief from the growing discomfort.

Then, in a moment of clarity, it all made perfect sense.

Trouble.

He’d been calling you that for so long, you never thought twice about it. The silly nickname carried you through years of your life, calming and comforting as he spoke it through laughs and sometimes tears. Never once did you think that it meant anything more, but now that he spoke the word in a new context, you understood that it meant everything. You had been torturing him for years, just the same as he was doing to you.

“You don’t call me that for no reason, sir.” You breathed, wondering if maybe you thought too much into it, but when he forcefully pulled you forward onto him again and you could feel him smiling against your skin, you knew you hit the nail on the head.

“Took you long enough.” He muttered, his head raising from the crook of your neck to look over your face. “Pretty girl like you causes nothing but trouble.” Your cheeks reddened under his stare once again, but the smile on your face made you forget about it completely.

“You proud of yourself for that one?” You asked, teasing him slightly.

“Got away with it, didn’t I?” Your cheeks hurt from the smile that had stayed constant on them. You were happy, more than you had ever been in your entire life, and you never wanted to let go of the feeling.

“Come here.” You mumbled, hooking your arm around his neck and pulling his face down to meet yours. He wrapped his arms around you, his entire upper body pressed against yours as he kissed you back. His hands found the bottom of your shirt, bunching the fabric in his hands as he began to pull it away from your body. You parted from him just for long enough for him to slide it over your head, and then he was kissing you again.

With the friction he was providing between your legs and your bare chest pressed against his, you couldn’t help but let a moan escape into his mouth. He drank in the sound as if it were necessary for his survival, thriving off it and using it as motivation to continue. Eventually, he moved further down, trailing kisses from your hat to the base of your neck, and then over your collarbone.

“I did want you to fuck me, Jake.” You confessed, finally answering the question he’d asked moments before. “I wanted it so bad. I dreamt about it every night.” You panted, breathless from the overwhelming sensation of his tongue on your skin and your racing heart.

“You should have asked, trouble.” He crooned, slightly disappointed that you never said a word about it. “You know I would have taken care of you. I always do.”

“You do,” you agreed, feeling his head drift even lower. “But that’s not what I was dreaming about, Jake.” You continued, watching him freeze just as he was about to let his tongue trail over your hardened nipple. His eyes flickered upwards, looking over your face as he processed what you were saying. “I know you always take care of me, baby. I wanted to take care of you, to thank you for everything you do for me.” You watched as his pupils engulfed his irises, enticed by your words and crazed with desire for you. You were no different, so far gone that you did not care that you were going to let him fuck you in the kitchen while your friends slept soundly in the other room. You wanted him so bad, and you weren’t sure you could last another minute without him. “Let me do it now, please?” You whispered, sticking your bottom lip out into a slight pout.

“Always so concerned about everyone else, trouble.” He whispered, straightening himself up. He wasn’t stupid enough to deny you of that, so he figured he’d let you have your way first, then he could use the rest of the night to showcase his own desire to please. “You know I’ve always told you to take what’s yours.” He slurred, drunk off lust and already imagining how good your mouth would feel on him. You couldn’t quite grasp the emotion that took over at the sound of his words. Take what’s yours, as if he belonged to you, and you were his.

You slid off of the table, making sure your landing was quiet and secure. You held on to the edge of the table until you were sure you were steady on your feet, and then you took a step towards him. You tried to swallow your nerves, framing yourself as confident as your hands reached out for him. This was something you had unashamedly thought about hundreds of times, but now that the opportunity arose, you were far more anxious than you once thought you would be.

“Hi, beautiful.” He smiled down at you, his eyes soft and his smile warm. In an instant, your fear disappeared, replaced with a blossoming love for him deep in your chest.

“Hi, baby.” You breathed, the word still foreign on your tongue, but feeling better every time you spoke it.

You leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the top of his shoulder. Your fingers drifted over his bare arms, starting there as you worked up the courage to continue. You kept the touch featherlight as it drifted across his stomach and down to the waistband of his sweatpants. You tried not to notice the shiver that ran through him as your fingers dipped below the elastic, doing nothing but teasing him as he awaited your next move. Carefully, you began to crouch down, keeping your movement slow as you pressed kisses to his chest when your mouth passed by.

By the time you were on your knees in front of him, you had little care about embarrassing yourself anymore. The state he was in was your driving force, and you found yourself unable to think of anything other than pleasing him. With one final breath of courage, you pushed past the last boundary that remained between the two of you. You pulled his pants down off of his hips, ensuring that his boxers came down with them. With a hard swallow, you took a moment to digest the situation and its entirety. You were on your knees, eye level with his cock as he watched you, studying every move you were making.

Your gaze flickered up to meet his, innocent and doe-eyed as you gave him a smile. Before your mouth was even on him, his eyes were rolling back in his head. The thought alone was enough to drive him mad, and anything that came after was just one push closer to the edge of insanity. You leaned forward, parting your lips slightly, and you let your tongue rest against your bottom lip. Your mouth landed on the tip of his cock, your tongue gliding over it as the taste of pre-cum filled your senses.

You let out a hum of pleasure, the saltiness causing your mouth to water as your eyes fluttered closed. You moved your head down a little further, taking him into your mouth without ever moving your tongue away from its original position. It felt good. It felt right. You let the saliva build up on your tongue as you flattened it against the underside of his dick, ensuring that it was well lubricated before moving any further.

He was big, definitely much more than you were used to, but you tried not to let it intimidate you as you began to bob your head down on him. At first, you kept it slow, carefully calculating every move you made. Then, a strangled cry left his mouth as his tip hit the back of your throat, and all inhibitions seemed to flee your body. In response, you moaned against him as you moved your head back, the vibration furthering the pleasure he was already getting from your mouth.

“Fuck, angel.” He panted, reaching down and brushing the hair from your face. As a courtesy, he gathered it behind your head and knotted it around his fist, making it a little more comfortable for you. You opened your eyes, needing to catch a glimpse of his face to keep you going. Sometimes, it seemed like it was the only thing that could.

He was looking down at you, his hair falling in front of his face to frame his perfect features. His eyebrows were furrowed together, the wrinkles on his forehead that usually showed his concentration began to pop. His jaw was clenched, the muscles taut as he tried to hold back every sound he was desperate to make. He looked more beautiful than he ever had, and it only made you want to work harder.

The man before you was many things; your best friend, of course, but it always ran a little bit deeper than that. He was one who held great kindness in his heart and love in his eyes no matter where he was or who he was with. He was sweet, soft spoken at times but louder than anyone the next. He was funny, always having a quip lined up or a punchline to spew. More than that, he was yours. Even before your tearful confessions that ensued not even an hour before, he was just that. He would leave anything behind at the drop of a dime if you needed something, and his usual kindness grew tenfold if you were the one in question. He loved to love, but most of all, he loved to love you, in every way he knew how.

Halfway across the world, playing on stages in front of thousands, you were always at the front of his mind. He ran off stage every night to text you, just to tell you how it went and say he wished you were there to share the moment. He opened his home to you without a promise of anything at all, and most importantly, he built you a fucking pool.

Three hours ago, you were near shameful of how strongly you felt for him, but you had no reason to be. He was your best friend, but everyone else knew just as well as you that he was always more than that. There was no shame in falling in love with Jake, because it would be impossible not to. Now that he was truly yours, in every way, you would bend over backwards to make him happy. What you were doing in that moment only felt like a glimpse in time of a lifetime you would spend thanking him for everything he’d already done and would continue to do for you.

As your head sunk down on him again, his hand tightened in your hair. His grip was growing stronger with every bob of your head, and you knew he was doing all he could to hold himself back. As nice as the gesture was, you would have been perfectly fine had he decided to take control.

“You look so good with my cock in your mouth,” he hissed through his teeth, his stare intense as he spoke the words. Your cheeks dusted red in the dim light filtering through the window, framing the two of you in the obscene display for the rest of time. You pushed your head down on him again, this time taking him as far as you could. You felt his tip slide down your throat, and you took a long breath of air through your nose to stave off the urge to gag. You held him there for a moment, trying your best to keep yourself calm as you forced yourself to swallow back the salvia pooling in your mouth. Your throat constricted around him as you did so, and in response, he let out the most heavenly sound that had ever graced your ears.

You had never seen Jake in such a state, and although you felt like you should appreciate it, you couldn’t help but feel sad that it had taken you so long to get here. He was desperate, trying and failing to keep his composure, and he was needy. His hips jutted forward every time you bobbed your head down on him, even if he tried to hold himself back. He was lost in the pleasure, and he had never looked so fucking ethereal. Pathetic whines fell from his lips as he tried his hardest to keep quiet, and to be used by him was the most pleasant feeling you’d ever experienced.

You could feel him throbbing in your mouth, desperate for a release as you continued your torment. You were just as worked up, your underwear soaked through with the wetness pooling between your legs, and your were aching for him to touch you. If you weren’t so greedy, you would have let him finish there, just to show him how committed you were to his pleasure.

Just when you thought you were getting him close to the point of no return, his grip tightened in your hair and his body went rigid. Unsure of what was wrong, you tried to continue on as you were seconds before, but his hand holding your head in place made it hard to do so. Before your disappointment really began to sink in, he spoke quietly. So quietly that you almost did not hear him at all.

“Baby, stop.” He pleaded, looking down with wide eyes. Your eyes flickered up to his, questioning his sudden withdrawal as his cock rested on your tongue. “Someone’s coming.” He said, looking over his shoulder at the entrance of the kitchen. At that, a wave of panic filled your chest, hyper aware of the situation you had found yourselves in. He looked at your shirt on the floor, knowing that there wasn’t enough time for you to dress yourself before the two of you were caught. “Get under the table.” You pulled back, taking a long breath as his tip fell from your lips.

Although you felt a little ridiculous hiding in your own home, you figured it would be for the best. Avoiding the awkward situation would be in everyone’s best interest, especially considering the explicit nature of your current state. As you shuffled backwards, hiding yourself under the table, Jake stepped towards your shirt on the ground and kicked it towards you. Then, he rushed to push the chair in, concealing you a little better. He pulled his pants back up over his hips just as the footsteps neared the end of the hallway. Realizing the obvious predicament in his pants, he thought it best to sit back down in the chair at the head of the table, knowing there was no way he could hide it from anyone who walked in, even if the light was turned off.

He pushed the chair in as far as he could, his stomach resting against the edge of the table as he leaned back ever so slightly, ensuring that his lower half was carefully concealed underneath the table. You held your breath, listening carefully as the footsteps rounded the corner and slowed to a stop.

“Oh, hey, Jake.” Roman. The sleep laced in the familiar tone was blatant, and the surprise of seeing Jake sitting, wide awake in the earliest hours of the morning was also quite clear. “What are you still doing up?”

“Oh, you know.” He let out a nervous chuckle, shrugging his shoulders as he spoke. “Just waiting for Y/N to come down so I can talk to her.”

“Right,” he mumbled, taking a few steps towards the refrigerator. “You okay? You look like you saw a ghost.” Roman asked, opening the fridge to retrieve the water pitcher from inside. The yellow light illuminated the room ever so slightly, making it just a little more obvious that you were stuck under the table, nearly naked and trying your best to stay calm.

“Yeah, I’m alright. Guess I drank a little too much, and I’m trying to figure out how to make up for being an idiot, earlier.” Jake said, clearing his throat slightly as he attempted to sound as normal as possible.

“Yeah, that was a shitshow for sure.” Roman chuckled, grabbing a glass from the cupboard. He filled it up with water from the pitcher, thinking carefully about what to say next. “Why don’t you go up there and talk to her? Might be better if you do it sooner rather than later.”

“Already tried that.” Jake chuckled. “She’s as stubborn as I am.” You rolled your eyes at the snide comment, but continued to listen to the conversation between the two. It wasn’t really eavesdropping, considering Jake knew it would be impossible for you not to listen.

“Yeah, that’s for sure.” He hummed an agreement, still fighting sleep as he found himself amidst conversation. “You have to tell her, man. It’s just hurting you more the longer you keep it to yourself.”

“Y-yeah, I know.” Jake said, clearly nervous about what Roman would let slip under the impression the two were alone. “Just not as easy as it seems, I guess.”

“Christ, Jake, it’s not like nobody knows. We can see it. You haven’t been on a date in over a year. You spend every day here, man.” He said, pausing for a moment to sip at the water before he continued. You found yourself growing impatient, wondering why Jake wasn’t doing all he could to speed up the interaction. Then, you wondered if he was doing it on purpose to get on your nerves. At that thought, a devious little idea popped up in your mind. You were certain that you would never do something so risky had you not been drinking all day, nor would you have done it if you weren’t so crazed with desire for the man you never thought you would have. “Who knows? She might even feel the same way.” Roman offered, a smile clear in his tone.

Roman was an idiot for suggesting that your love for Jake was something to be questioned. In your entire time on earth, loving Jake was the only thing you’d ever known how to do, which is exactly why you were stuck under the table, hiding from Josh’s boyfriend as you waited for Jake to fuck you. Your love for him was the exact reason you had such convoluted thoughts about your next move, and the exact reason that you couldn’t find any shame as you slowly reached for the waistband of his sweatpants. Well, love, and the overwhelming desire to have him inside you again, in any way you could have him.

As your fingers hooked around the elastic holding the fabric to his hips, he jumped slightly in reaction to the unexpected touch. A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips, knowing that he knew exactly what you were thinking. Carefully, you pulled his pants away from him, freeing him from them once again. You felt him slouch a little lower in the chair, making it a bit easier for you, and also showing you that he was more than content with your actions.

“Yeah, maybe she does.” Jake breathed, swallowing hard as you flattened your tongue against the underside of his cock, running it slowly up his length. “Wouldn’t that be the dream.”

“I think you might be surprised.” Roman replied, leaning against the counter. “Why didn’t you kiss her, man? I mean, I know, but wouldn’t it have been the easiest way to tell her how you felt?”

“Uhm,” Jake started speaking again, but found it hard to focus on his words as your tongue swirled around his tip. The warm wetness of your mouth was fantastic the first time, but even more so the second. “I just didn’t want to do it like that, you know? She deserves better, and I didn’t want her to think that it was because I had to, rather than because I wanted to.” He answered, his voice higher than usual and his words breathy as they pushed past his lips.

“What are you going to say to her?”

‘God, he talks a lot.’ You thought to yourself, letting a trail of spit fall from your mouth onto his cock. ‘Just like his boyfriend.’ You raised your hand to his dick, using your palm to spread the wetness over him. You heard him take in a sharp breath, trying to keep it concealed as his hips raised in reaction to the touch. You continued to move your hand, stroking him slowly as you lowered your mouth to his tip once again. You could feel him throb in your mouth, pulsating against your tongue as you focused all of your attention on him. He was far more worked up that he was before, and It almost seemed as if the risky act was the cause of his current state.

“I—fuck,” he muttered the curse word under his breath as you bobbed your head down on him. “I don’t know, man. That I’m sorry, and that I love her and everything about her. Maybe that living with her was the happiest I’ve ever been, and that damn house feels like hell without her there to brighten it up. How I wanted to kiss her so bad, and everything she does amazes me, and I’ve only ever wanted her.” He rambled out the list of compliments, the praise indirect but clearly targeted towards you, rather than his conversation with Roman. You felt your heart skip a beat at the sound of his words, more specifically, at the proclamation of love.

“Yeah, that sounds like a good start.” Roman commended Jake for his choice of words. “You sure you’re okay? You’re acting weird.” He commented on the strangeness of Jake’s stature and tone.

“Yeah, yeah.” Jake assured him, nodding his head as he sucked in a sharp breath. “Guess I’m just more upset about the whole thing than I thought.”

“S’okay, man. The two of you will work it out. You always do. I mean, she quit her job and moved to Nashville just to be with you again.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I fucked up, but I’ll fix it.” He said, his hands clenched into such tight fists that his knuckles were white and his fingernails drew blood on his palm. You took him in as far as you could, feeling him hit the back of your throat. Your eyes watered but you held back a gag, knowing it would do nothing to help your desire to stay hidden. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Roman hummed. “We’re always here for you. You know that.”

“I do, and I appreciate it.” Jake breathed, swallowing hard as he fought a groan.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Jake. Hopefully you get to talk to her.”

“Yeah, I hope so too. See you guys in the morning.” He said, the words coming out strangled as you suctioned your cheeks around him just a little more. With that, you heard footsteps echoing through the room, fading out the further he walked. After a few seconds, you couldn’t hear anything aside from Jake’s heavy breathing.

He waited a moment, just to ensure that Roman wouldn’t double back into the kitchen and discover the real reason behind his strangeness during their interaction. You continued on as if nothing changed at all, overly excited to please him and uncaring about his thoughts on the matter. When the coast was clear, Jake reached under the table, balling your hair in his fist as he pulled your head away from him. He fell from your lips with a popping sound, and you sucked in a sharp breath, barely realizing how badly you needed the air. He carefully slid the chair backwards, urging you to follow his lead and get out from under the table. When you did, your expression was smug and your eyes were blazing with a fire unfamiliar to him.

“What do you think you’re doing, trouble?” He snapped, his voice hushed so he didn’t catch any more unwanted attention. “You need me so bad you couldn’t even wait for it?” He asked, his tone dangerous and his face painted with a scowl, but you knew him better than to think he was actually angry with you. There was a glimmer of joy in his eyes, playful and light even as his expression directly contradicted his gaze. You gave him a sickly sweet smile, bringing your hand to your chin to wipe away any excess spit still lingering on your skin. “We’re you trying to get yourself caught?”

You weren’t, but you would be lying if you said the idea hadn’t crossed your mind. In the whirlwind of events, you felt like you left your former self upstairs in your bedroom, sleeping soundly under the covers. You were still riding the high of your confession, thrilled that not only did you finally find the courage to admit it, but it was reciprocated. His hands on you felt like heaven on earth, and you finally had the opportunity to live within the dirty fantasy you had created in your mind so long ago. Something about Jake made you want to live on the wild side of things for once, take risks and live without fear of making a mistake or having consequence. You had never felt more alive, and it was all because of him.

“You were?” He came to the conclusion himself, your silence being enough of an answer for him.

“No, sir.” You shook your head, trying to figure out the best way to explain yourself. You weren’t trying to get caught, but the thrill of knowing you could made it all the better.

“Tell me what it is then, sweetheart.” He said, beckoning you towards him. You crawled out from under the table, careful as you rose to your feet and stepped towards him.

“I didn’t want to get caught.” You clarified, smiling down at him as you stood before him.

“Don’t lie to me.” He grinned, holding his arm out for you, hoping you would take the hint and join him. You did as he wanted, carefully placing your legs on either side of him as you straddled him on the chair. His hands landed on your ass, positioning you as you lowered your weight onto him.

“Not lying, sir.” You squeaked the words out, feeling his length press against your clothed core as he used his strength to pull you down on him. As he pressed into you, the slight friction gave you a sense of relief when he brushed against your clit.

“S’okay, trouble. I always knew you were a little whore.” He muttered. His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you found yourself moving your hips against him, desperate for a bit more than he was giving you at the moment. “Look at you, so desperate to be fucked you don’t care who’s watching.” He growled, his lips close to your ear as you anchored your hand on his shoulder to keep yourself steady. “I can feel how fucking wet you are. Can’t believe all of this was waiting for me the whole time.”

“Are you going to do something about it, or just tell me how bad you want to?” You asked, the burning in the pit of your stomach becoming nearly unbearable.

“Watch your fucking mouth.” He snapped, but his hand began to move from your hip, tickling the skin of your back as his fingers trailed upwards. His touch was full of love, assuring you that every word that left his lips was part of an act. Then, the hand that still remained on your hip shifted, and his fingers hooked through the side of your panties. With one sharp tug, the fabric unravelled at the seam.

If you were any less turned on, you might have been angry with him for destroying them, but you wanted him so bad that you did not have a care in the world about it. His other hand did the same to the other side, clearly seeing your enjoyment just from the look on your face. Without any further instructions, you lifted your hips, allowing him to discard the material on the floor with ease. You took it upon yourself to reach between the two of you, grabbing him in your hand and guiding the tip of his cock through the pooling arousal.

“What is it, sweetheart? Do you like the thrill, or are you just desperate to get fucked?” He asked, his voice low. With his mouth by your ear, you heard him loud and clear, and the gravelly sound of his words only made the desire grow stronger. “Be honest with me, baby. I want to know what’s got you so worked up.” He moved your hand away, taking control of the situation as you hovered over him. He guided himself through your folds, slowing his movement as his tip brushed over your clit.

“Both.” You whimpered, leaning forward and resting your forehead against his.

“See, Angel? That wasn’t so hard. You have to tell me what you want to get what you want.” He whispered, his lips upturned into a smile. “You like the thrill so much, so I’ll give it to you, but you have to be good for me, okay? Don’t want to actually get caught, because I’m the only one who gets to see you like this.” You felt yourself clench around nothing, the sound of his words prompting a full physical reaction from you. It was a special feeling knowing that he felt some kind of possessive nature when it came to you, that you were his and only he could see you in such a state. “Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir.” You nodded against him, feeling him line himself up with your entrance.

“That’s my girl.” He smiled. He reached up, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear in a moment of sweetness. Then, as quickly as it came, the moment passed. He clamped his hand around your mouth, the action rough and unexpected. You didn’t have any time to register it, because at the same time, he used a hand on your hip to pull you down on him.

The feeling of him inside you was overwhelming almost immediately, and you found yourself grateful for his palm tightly wrapped around your lips, ensuring that not a single sound could escape you. His size was something you were not used to, but it didn’t take long to adjust to the feeling. He was easy on you for a moment, realizing that maybe he was a little to rough for your liking, but when your desperate eyes met his, telling him all he needed to know, his head fell back on his shoulders and he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth to keep himself quiet.

You took the initiative, beginning a slow roll of your hips against him. You watched as his adams apple bobbed as he swallowed back every sound you were desperate to hear. He felt even better than you imagined he would, filling you up better than anyone else ever could. The position allowed for him to fill you completely, his tip brushing against the sweet spot inside of you with every move you made. It was addicting, and you felt greedy even as you had him so completely, because it still wasn’t enough.

As you rocked your hips against him, he placed his hand on your ass, pushing you further down on him as you moved forward. His hand on your mouth did well at silencing you, but you still found yourself letting muffled moans fill the air.

“You feel so fucking good, sweetheart.” He growled, taking a long breath to calm himself down. “So fuckin’ tight.” He muttered under his breath, his eyes squeezing shut as he focused on the feeling of being inside of you. You sped your movements, using his words as motivation to work harder. He let out a low groan, trying to keep it quiet so he did not disturb anyone in the other room. He surpressed it relatively well, until it trailed off into a whine. The sound was beautiful, making your walls clench around him, pulling him even further.

The two of you were a mess, completely infatuated and only able to think of the undying need you had for each other. The thought of stopping what you had started seemed equal to torture, and he wasn’t sure he could stop himself even if someone were to catch the two of you in the act.

“Is this what you wanted, baby?” He asked, the sound of his voice settling deep in your spine and engulfing your stomach into flames. “Wanted it so bad you couldn’t even let me take you upstairs?” He continued, doing the best he could to move his hips in time with yours, making the sensation all the more powerful. You nodded against his hold, almost sad that you couldn’t tell him how good he was making you feel, sad that he couldn’t hear how desperate you were for him to keep fucking you.

His grip was tight on you, his fingers painfully sharp against your skin as he held your ass in his hand. You knew there would be bruises on you by the time the morning came, and the thought only seemed to push you closer to the edge. You wanted to remember, to be reminded of every dirty detail the night held every single time you looked in the mirror. To you, there was nothing better in the world to think about. After fantasizing about finding yourself in the position with him for so long, there was nothing more euphoric than finally having him in such a way.

“Tell me how fucking good it feels.” He hissed, slackening his grip on your mouth. “Want to hear all about it, trouble.” You let out a long breath, trying to keep yourself as quiet as possible as you leaned forward towards him. You settled your mouth over his ear, keeping your voice low as you told him the things he so desperately wanted to hear.

“God, you feel so good, sir.” You whined, your lips grazing against his earlobe as you spoke. “Nobody else could ever make me feel this way.”

“That’s right, baby.” He crooned, happy that you’d drawn that conclusion all on your own. “You were always mine, weren’t you, sweetheart?”

“Fuck, yes.” You gasped, feeling his hand guide your hips down on him particularly hard.

“All those other boys didn’t mean anything, hmm? ‘Cause you were always going to end up in my arms, right?” He continued his tyrant as you felt one of his hands creep up to the back of your neck. His fingers clamped down on your neck, closer to the base of your skull, almost as if he was holding on in fear you would pull away. He needed to hear the words, he needed to know that he hadn’t created a fallacy in his head and gotten the situation misconstrued. He needed to know that he was to you what you were to him.

“I only ever wanted you, Jake.” You confessed, knowing that no matter how hard you denied it, it was the truth. Heartbreaks did not hurt you the way they were described in movies. Dating never interested you as a teen preparing to leave for college, nor as a young adult who had spent the majority of her life single. You didn’t fawn over cute boys or go out to the bar in search of company, because you didn’t care about anyone the way you cared about Jake.

“Say it, trouble. Want to hear the words.” He muttered, holding your head close to his ear so he didn’t miss a single syllable of the phrase.

“I’m yours, Jake. All yours,” You whispered, feeling the pressure in your belly reach a new high. “I always have been, and I always will be.” You finished off the statement by letting your teeth graze over his earlobe. Gently, you pulled it between your teeth, holding him in the position as you allowed him to grasp the full intent of the sentiments.

“Fuck, baby.” He groaned, easing up on the pressure he was holding your head with as you placed a kiss just below his ear. You pulled away from him slightly, just enough so you could turn your head upwards towards his. When the position allowed for it, you pressed your lips to his, showing him that you meant every word of what you said.

The kiss itself was bordering pornographic, not even close to the sweetness of the ones that came before. It was a mess of tongues and teeth, neither of you caring about the impracticality of the action and only concerned about having each other in every way you could. He pulled your bottom lip between his teeth, applying slight pressure as he held your hips down on his. You let out a moan into his mouth, your hand on his shoulder slipping to the base of his neck as your fingers tangled in his hair. You stayed like that for a moment, neither of you keen on breaking the position until he pulled away first. Without moving his lips too far from your own, he began to speak, abundantly clear and concise about what he wanted of you.

“Listen to me, trouble.” He urged, his breath on your skin sending goosebumps rising across your entire body. “I want you to stand up, and grab your clothes off the floor, okay?” He asked, waiting for you to respond before explaining any further. You nodded, showing him you understood all that he was saying. “When you bend over, make sure you do it real slow, because I’ve been waiting to see you like that all fucking night.”

“Okay.” You smiled, waiting patiently for him to finish his instructions.

“Then, you’re going to go upstairs, and I’ll be right behind you, angel, waiting to keep fucking you. I’m done keeping you quiet. Don’t care if the whole fucking house hears you once we get up there.” He spoke with a slight gruffness to his voice that you had never quite heard from him before. Now that you had heard it, you never wanted him to speak to you any other way. “Understand me?”

“Yes, sir.” You breathed, taking one last look over his face as you bargained with the thought of parting from him. As you pulled away from him, he wrapped his arm around you, stopping you from moving any further.

“Wait.” He said, pulling you back into him. He crashed his lips back on to your own, savoring the sweetness for just a minute longer before he let you carry out the task he’d given you. “There. Go, before I change my mind again.” He ordered. You gave him a smile as you stood to your feet, finding the loss of him inside of you nearly devastating. “Fuck, I can’t get enough of you.” He said, reaching forward and lightly smacking your ass as you turned around.

Your face turned red as you leaned down, making sure to give him a show as you collected your shirt from the ground. You heard him let out a shaky breath as he watched you; you could feel his eyes on you, never trailing off course as you straightened back up. You looked back over your shoulder, soaking in the feeling of seeing his expression, lustful and dazed as his eyes traveled from your ass to your face. To top it off, you gave him a wink before you threw your shirt over your head, covering yourself in case you ran into anyone on your way upstairs.

Before you even stepped towards the stairs, he was standing up and grabbing the torn remnants of your underwear off the floor. With two long strides, he was behind you again, adjusting himself in his pants as he pulled them back over his hips. Together, you went upstairs, sneaking past the sleeping boys in the living room and rushing down the hallway. When the door closed behind the two of you, you wasted no time throwing your shirt to the floor. You flopped onto the bed, on your back as you grinned up at him. You watched as he kicked his pants and boxers to the side before his attention landed on you again.

“You remember what I said, sweetheart?” He asked, approaching the end of the bed as he gazed down upon you. You settled yourself amongst the pillows, smiling up at him as you gave a nod of your head. “I want to hear all of it. Don’t care about anything other than that, actually.” You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you at his words, finding it funnier than he meant to be.

“Whatever you want, sir:” You made sure to enunciate the word carefully, ensuring the impact would be made.

“Fuck, you’re hot.” He seemed to break from the facade slightly, amazed that you were actually in front of him, saying all the things he dreamed to hear from you. “How did I get so lucky?” He asked, falling to his knees on the bed before you. The question was rhetorical, not meant to be answered, but he felt the need to express his gratitude for the moment.

He moved towards you, letting his hands dust over your thighs as he settled himself between them. He took his time, letting his hands graze every available inch of you. Then, when he satisfied his need to touch you, he hooked his arms underneath your thighs, using a small amount of force to pull you towards him. You let out a gasp, not expecting the sudden movement. The scratch of the sheets against your legs sent a shiver down your spine as you slid down the mattress towards him, amplifying the sensation in the pit of your stomach that had only been growing more intense as time went on.

He pressed his lips to the inside of your thighs, soft and gentle as he worked his way upwards. As his mouth neared your core, your breathing became more shallow, finding yourself nearly driven to insanity just from the thought of his tongue on you.

“It’s a sin that I got to feel you before I got to taste you.” He spoke quietly, as if he was talking to himself more than he was talking to you. “Didn’t even properly appreciate all that I have.” He continued, his lips moving away from your leg and closer to your cunt. “Please don’t think I’m going to make it a habit, trouble.” Before you could respond, he closed the gap between the two of you. He flattened his tongue against you, savoring the taste of his hard work as he moved from your entrance to your clit.

“Oh, fuck.” You let out a shaky sigh, closing your eyes at the sensation. It had been so long since you had anyone touch you so intimately, and never had you found someone who could do it so well. He circled his tongue around your clit, agonizingly slow as he tried to cement the memory in his brain for eternity.

He let his tongue dip back down to your entrance, pushing it inside of you with little hesitation. The feeling was new, but it was fantastic. He curled it as he pumped it into you, keeping the movements steady and similar every time he did it. Your hands snaked down towards his hair, tangling the soft locks around your fingers as you silently urged him to continue.

His motions began to grow more comfortable as he became more familiar with you. He wanted to know the things you liked, what could make you take your clothes off without a second thought, and what could make you come undone within minutes. He wanted to know everything about you, all of the things you had kept secret before. Now, there were no more barriers or boundaries holding him back, and he wanted to make himself an expert on anything concerning you.

As his tongue pumped inside of you again, he let out a hum of pleasure. The vibration ran through you, seemingly rattling your bones and throwing you completely off course. It knocked the air straight from your lungs and caused your fingers to tighten in his hair. On your own accord, you threw your leg over his shoulder, twisting it around him slightly to pull him closer. He took the action as a plea for more, and when it came to you, he would give you anything you wanted. He picked up his pace, pulling you down a little closer to him. You couldn’t help but grind your hips against his mouth as he worked at you, swallowing down every last drop of arousal you had to offer him.

When the first moan slipped past your lips, he was almost dejected by the thought of not being there to drink it in as you let it go. That thought quickly passed as he realized how badly he wanted to hear it again. He withdrew his tongue, turning his attention to your clit again in hopes that it would help you loosen up, and more importantly, get loud. The whole reason he urged you to come upstairs in the first place was because of the beautiful sounds he knew you would make, and he would have been lying if he said he wasn’t determined to hear every last one of them.

You let out a whine, long and drawn out as he suctioned his lips around your clit. You could feel the sly smile form on his lips as he heard it, breaking the momentum only for a moment until he could focus again. This time, he let a moan out, unable to contain his own enjoyment of the moment. The knowledge that he was getting off over pleasing you was almost too much to take, and you felt yourself begin to grow delirious from the thought alone.

“Taste so sweet, angel, just like I thought you would.” He pulled his mouth away from you for just long enough to spew the praise. You let out a breathy moan, thrown into a whole new wave of pleasure at the sound of his words. You knew that you were close to the edge, with everything he’d done to you so far and what he was doing now, you were long past the point of holding yourself back.

“Jake, m’so close.” You gasped, feeling it become harder and harder to keep yourself quiet. A particularly vulgar moan filled the quiet air, and you noticed as it reached his ears, his hips grinded downward into the mattress. He was aching for relief again, worked up to the point of desperation like he was before you ever touched him at all.

Had the situation been anything close to normal, you might have been embarrassed over your shameless need for him, but you didn’t care in the slightest. Years of sexual tension had finally resulted into one, climactic end. You needed him like you needed water to survive. Now that you had a taste of what he had to offer, you would never be able to live without it. Every daydream you created in your mind didn’t even come close to the reality of the situation.

“Jake, baby, please don’t stop.” You pleaded, finding yourself gripping his hair so tightly that your knuckles began to ache. You were grinding your hips against his tongue, needing more than he could possibly give you as he did his best to bring you to an orgasm. “Oh, god.” You cried, your head falling back against the pillows as a wave of euphoria washed over you.

The orgasm was different than any you had before, and you knew it was because he was the one who gave it to you. Your body felt light, almost as if it would float away if he wasn’t there to hold you to earth. His tongue coaxed you through the process, his movements gentle and full of love. Your entire body was ablaze with pleasure, like every nerve ending was searing with their very own red hot flame. It felt so good that you grieved the end before it ever came, and it was so intense you prayed you would survive it.

When you relaxed against the mattress, he pulled away from you, quick and ready to move on. You barely caught your breath before he began to speak, sending your already busy mind swirling with even more nonsense.

“Get up, trouble.” He ordered, repeating himself for a second time before you processed what he was saying. You stared at him, finding a strange comfort in the sight of his face as you tried to bargain with the unfamiliar feelings coursing through your veins. “Get the fuck up,” he snapped, quickly losing any bit of sweetness he had left in him. “Don’t make me say it again.” He warned.

That time, his words actually struck the right spot in your brain, allowing you to comprehend the situation. You sat up, watching him for a moment as you awaited further instructions. He laid down on the mattress, his cock painfully hard as he reached down and stroked himself. The relief was not the same as what you could provide him, but it would suffice for the moment.

“Come here.” He ordered, holding his arm out to you. You did as he asked, scrambling to your knees and making a move to straddle him again. When your knees landed on either side of him, hovering over his cock, he grabbed your hips before you could move any further. You furrowed your eyebrows, still strung out on your climax as you tried to understand what he wanted from you. “My face, sweetheart.” He explained, his expression serious as he spoke the words. “Sit on my face.” He continued once he realized you still weren’t quite grasping his intent.

“Oh,” you mustered the strength to speak, only slightly embarrassed over your misunderstanding. You did as he asked, slowly shimmying your way up his body until your thighs were grazing his cheeks.

“That’s better, angel.” He softened his tone ever so slightly, worried he might have been too harsh with you. “Do you know how many times I’ve dreamed of this?” He asked you as he admired the view from below. He didn’t give you time to answer before he did it for you. “Every fucking morning I’d wake up disappointed that I didn’t have you like this.” He settled comfortably between your legs as if it were natural, like it was home and he’d been suffering from a nasty bout of homesickness. “Don’t make me wait any longer for it, sweetheart. I don’t think I can take it.”

With that, you lowered your hips down so his mouth connected with your cunt once more. The new position made it so the same action felt entirely different. You were hovering just above his mouth, allowing him to lift his head to connect with your core. You were fearful of hurting him, but he was having none of it. His hands clamped down on your hips, pulling you down towards him so your body weight rested on his face. It made the position less awkward for you, and much more enjoyable.

His tongue started at your entrance, repeating the same motions as earlier. He curled his tongue inside of you, fucking you with it in the same way he would do with his hands or his cock. As he did so, you felt the tip of his nose brushing over your clit, adding the extra bit of stimulation needed to make the entire process otherworldly. Your legs were quivering from the pleasure coursing through you, and your brain felt like it was short-circuiting. The only thoughts in your mind were filthy, all pertaining to the man below you as he guided you to rock your hips against his tongue with his hands.

You bit down on your lip, still having some fear of disrupting your friends sleeping in the other room, but it didn’t take long for that worry to dissipate along with every other one you ever had. Your moans were desperate, pornographic, and exactly what he wanted to hear. They drove him to work harder, drawing inspiration from every sound you made so he knew where to improve on his next move. He was a man gone mad; completely and utterly lost in his own need for you. When he needed a breath of air, he moved his head up just enough so his nose wasn’t covered, and he settled his tongue over your clit.

He was working at you with intent. The first orgasm was a slow build, and he ensured that it was memorable. Now, he was desperate to drive you to that state again. He felt like he needed it to survive, to feel your thighs squeeze against his skull as profanities fell from your lips, that every time your hips grinded against him for that extra bit of friction, you were forcing a little more life into his lungs. In the moment, he felt like he only existed to please you, that the only reason for his existence was to make you happy and ensure that you were taken care of.

He was more in love with you than he ever thought possible, and he was determined to prove it to you. All of your self-doubt and second guessing had hurt him in the worst way possible. To know that he loved you so deeply and you thought he didn’t was painstakingly hard for him to digest, and the words you spoke in your moment of high emotion stuck with him. He knew he did wrong, that he hurt you even though he thought he was doing the opposite, and he never wanted to make you feel that way again. The only thing he knew how to do was love you, and he would be damned if you ever thought otherwise.

You were bordering your second orgasm, his unwavering attention on your already sensitive body was overwhelming in the best possible way. You’d grown much more relaxed as the minutes passed, and you were having a hard time keeping yourself upright as he continued his relentless pursuit for your pleasure. Your stomach was engulfed in flames, the knot tightening with every flick of his tongue, and he could tell that he was pushing you closer to the edge. Your thighs tightened around his head, drawing him in and locking him there so you did not lose your momentum.

Your breathing was ragged, heavy as it shook your shoulders and made your chest heave. Curses and utterances of praise fell from your lips, commending him from his hard work, and the moans that followed were the best compliment he could ever receive. He wanted it almost more than you did, and he made it clear that he wouldn’t stop until he had it.

“Jake,” you whimpered, your eyes squeezed shut and your eyebrows furrowed together in concentration. Sweat glistened on your forehead as you felt the familiar sensation begin to pulse under your skin. Your entire body was thrown back into pleasure and you were like an addict searching for a fix. You moved your hips against him in time with his tongue, both of you working together to achieve the common goal. Your abdomen was tense, sore from the tightness of your muscles, and your hips ached from the strength in which he was holding you to him.

“Fuck!” You groaned, the sensation becoming too intense to withstand. With one last flick of his tongue, you were sent spiraling all over again. Your legs tightened around his head, your hips locked in place as your hands began to tremble from the intensity of the feeling. Your lungs burned for a breath of air as your entire body froze in place, but his tongue didn’t slow, and he wasn’t going to back down until he was certain that he utilized every bit of his power to make sure you were satisfied.

Finally, the moment seemed to pass and your body went lax against him. You took in a sharp breath, filling your lungs with the breath they had been begging you to take. Your head was spinning and your eyes were heavy, tired from all of the night’s activities thus far. He used his hands on your hips to lift you from his face, catching his own breath as you took the time to come back to earth.

“Being so good for me, baby. Don’t give up on me now.” He pleaded, noticing your drooping eyelids and the exhaustion written all over your face. “We’re just getting to the good part.” He said, carefully shimmying his way upwards. You lifted yourself up, using your last bit of energy to help him as he settled his hips underneath yours.

Without another word, he guided you down so the tip of his cock met your cunt again, sliding through the wetness and landing on your clit. Your body’s natural reaction was to meet his movement, your hips going in search of something you weren’t sure you could handle. He was watching you, his pupils engulfing his irises as lust began to craze him all over again. He used one hand to line himself up with your entrance, and slowly, he lowered you onto him. The feeling of him filling you again was so good, but almost too much for you to handle in your fucked-out state. You lowered yourself down until he was filling you completely, the tip of his cock resting against your cervix as the two of you sat still for a moment, enjoying the closeness amongst all of the chaos.

“Just for a second, baby. Just wanted to feel you again, and then I promise I’ll do the rest of the work.” He said, inadvertently begging you to look at him, to catch his gaze and say something. Your silence was concerning him, although not completely. He knew he’d just put you through a whirlwind of emotion and excitement all at once, and he was well aware you just needed a moment to process it.

“God, you feel so good.” You muttered, raising one hand to his chest. You placed your palm flat against it, holding yourself upright in fear you might fall as you began to rock your hips against him again. You weren’t sure where the energy was coming from; you were exhausted, beyond any kind of tired you had ever felt before. You were ready to get under the blankets and fall asleep next to him, but your body was telling you otherwise. Your need for him was primal, extending far beyond any rational thought or need for rest. You couldn’t resist it, and you couldn’t stop it.

“You take it so fucking good, trouble.” He groaned, raising his hips off the bed as he held your body to his own. “Do you like being a whore for me? Letting me do whatever I want to you?”

“I do,” you whined, nodding as your eyes stayed closed. “I love it, baby.”

“Fucking right you do.” He muttered, letting his eyes rake over the pretty picture sat atop of him.

He stared at your face, drinking in the detail of your messy hair and your flushed cheeks. He noticed the swell of your lips, pink and perfect as they enticed him to lean in for another taste. His gaze traveled down to your chest, watching as your breasts bounced with every move of your hips. Then, they moved to your stomach, which was tense as the muscles supported your movements. Eventually, his eyes landed on the exact spot where your body met his. He watched closely as you raised yourself off of him, driven mad by the sight of him fucking into you as you lowered yourself back down.

Perfection wasn’t even a close enough word to describe how he thought of you, and he truly believed he was the luckiest man to ever live.

He let you set your own pace for a moment, hoping that the break would allow for you to recover enough for him to take over again. You kept a slow, steady pace, fuelling the fire in your belly even further every time you came down on him. Your whole body was sensitive, still tingling with the ghost of pleasure from your last orgasm. Every sensation was amplified by a million, every touch all the more beautiful and every emotion was felt so much stronger.

“Look so pretty on top of me, trouble.” He rasped, drunk off the feeling of loving you and cursing himself for not saying anything sooner. “Makes me want to keep you like this forever.”

“That doesn’t sound half bad,” you breathed, smiling down at him. You took a moment to admire him, his hair laying on the mattress below him, framing his perfect face. His cheeks were tinged red, his eyebrows furrowed in pleasure as you continued to roll your hips against him. His lips were parted, shallow breaths escaping him as he let you do as you pleased with him. His biceps were flexed, the muscles visible as he held your hips, aiding your movements. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, his breathing ragged as he tried to keep himself from reaching his own climax.

He was the prettiest boy you had ever laid eyes on, and the most precious thing you ever had the pleasure of touching.

You were working yourself up to another orgasm, the pace slow but impactful. He noticed the expression on your face change, your breathing speed as your movements became more frantic. You wanted to chalk it up to the sensitivity of your body, tired and pushed to its limit, but you knew it wasn’t true. The simple thought of being his forever was enough to send you over the edge; you wanted to love him, and for him to love you, openly and unapologetically instead of quietly and secretly. You wanted to be with him, to wake up next to him again and this time, start your day by telling him how much he meant to you, to show him how much he meant to you.

To know he felt the same was enough to drive you crazy, and that’s exactly what it was doing.

“You going to give me another one, baby?” He asked, removing one hand from your hip. As he awaited a response, he brought his middle finger to his mouth, maintaining eye contact with you as he pushed it past his lips. He collected some spit on the tip of his finger, retracting the digit from his mouth and reaching between your legs. He settled his attention in your clit, tracing circles around it as you continued to use him to get yourself off. “Come on, Angel. Let go.” He whispered, his tone sweet as he urged you to give in to the feeling.

“Oh, god.” You whimpered, your shoulder locking as you tried your best to hold yourself upright. Your eyes were shut, your entire body trembling as you prepared for the storm to wash over you.

“Look at me.” Jake growled, increasing the pressure of his finger on your clit. The harsh words sent a rush of pleasure through you, your walls tightening around him as you peeked at his face through your eyelashes. “That’s it. There’s my beautiful girl.” He breathed, watching as your head tilted back over your shoulders.

“Fuck,” you hissed, feeling the warmth begin to spread throughout your entire body. You could feel it from your toes to the very tips of your fingers, behind your eyes and deep in your chest. Your legs vibrated as you used all of your strength to keep moving your hips, and your arm threatened to give way under the pressure.

“What did I ever do to deserve you, trouble?” He asked, his words trailing off as his chest rattled with another deep groan. His breathing was ragged, his fingers barely able to keep up with the simple circle he was tracing into the sensitive bundle of nerves.

As your climax hit its peak, your arm slackened and your upper half fell forward towards him. He used the moment to his advantage, removing his hand from your hip and bringing it to the back of your neck. He pulled you all the way down, your chest pressed against his as he leaned towards you for a kiss. With his lips on yours and your hips still moving against his, you were certain there would never be a greater pleasure in your entire life. His lips silenced the moans falling from your own, and he held you close to him until he felt you begin to relax against him.

Once he knew the most powerful part of the moment had been spent, he removed his finger from your clit and wrapped his arm around you. In one swift motion, he broke from the kiss and used his strength to flip the two of you over. You landed with your back against the mattress and he settled between your legs, still inside of you and wasting no time as he began the final stretch of the night.

As he began to drill his hips into yours, relentless and unforgiving despite your already tired body, he took it upon himself to grab a pillow from beside him. When you noticed what he was intending to do, you lifted your head, shaky and delirious from the strength of his thrusts as he slipped it under your neck.

Once you were settled comfortably, he trailed one of his hands down your thigh, landing on your knee as he wrapped his fingers around your leg. With a little help from you, he guided your leg around him, using the anchorage point to pull your hips down further towards him. As he did so, he thrusted his own hips forward, the impact of his movements sending a yelp escaping from your lips. A sadistic smirk formed on his lips at the sound, realizing that this was the exact position he wanted to get the most out of the situation. He moved himself forward, leaning back on his knees as he guided your other leg around him.

The position change meant that his pace would slow, but it would significantly increase the strength in which he could fuck into you. You crossed your ankles behind his back, holding your legs in place as his hands went in search of your hips. With every thrust of his hips, he pulled you down on him. His cock brushed against your cervix, sending a rush of painful pleasure straight to the pit of your stomach. Now, there was no holding back; you were whining, moaning and crying his name as he utilized his new found freedom to torture you in the best way possible.

“Please, Jake, don’t stop.” You panted, barely squeezing the words out amidst the moans he was coaxing out of you.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you really do take it well.” He commended you as you reached out for his arm, your throat raw as you begged for him to continue. “You want more?” He inquired, ensuring he was hearing you right as he studied the dazed look in your eye.

“Please, baby.” You nodded, looking up at him with desperation in your eyes. He let out a low chuckle, leaning his body back slightly and his head forward. Without a second thought, he centered his mouth with your cunt, not even thinking of pulling out of you as he let a trail of spit fall from his lips, rather forcefully at that.

You swallowed hard, your eyes widening as you processed the degrading act. If it were anyone but him, you might have recoiled from the crude behavior, but on him, it looked fucking good. As he continued to fuck you, he reached his fingers between your legs again, using his generously provided lubrication to continue his torment on your clit.

“What?” He snapped, looking down at your surprised eyes. “You said you liked being a whore for me. Don’t be so fucking surprised when I use you like one.” You felt the blood drain from your face at the sound of his vile words, but it didn’t deter the growing pressure in the pit of your stomach. It fueled it further, increasing it ten-fold with the one simple statement. You could not find the strength to verbally respond to his statement, instead feeling your lungs burn as another pitchy whine filled the air. His lips twitched upwards into a smirk, happy that his words had the effect he hoped they would.

He did not have to work very hard to get you to the brink of insanity, another orgasm an imminent threat as he continued his relentless pursuit for your pleasure. He watched you carefully, focused on the way your body moved when his hips connected with yours. He was carefully attentive to the expression on your face, hyper-aware of every shift in your features in case you experienced a single moment of discomfort.

He was filthy, his words vulgar and his movements obscene. The picture the two of you found yourselves in had long past pornographic, something that only existed in the very depths of your minds when you were trying to sleep at night, but not once did he make you feel unloved, or used in any way negative. Despite the act he put on, you could see the care behind his eyes, and you could feel it in every touch and every action.

“You think you can give me one more?” He asked, but his words were barely phrased as a question.

“I don’t know, baby.” You whimpered, already feeling yourself reach the limit. It was not a question of if you could, but rather if you could survive it. Your entire body felt like it would give out, like you would collapse from exhaustion if you continued on the way you were going. You felt the intensity of the climax before it even began, but you feared you might not be able to handle it when it came.

“Yeah, I wasn’t really asking, trouble.” He clarified, adding a little more pressure to his touch on your clit. “You can do it, sweetheart. Been so good for me all night, just a little longer.”

“Fuck,” you muttered, trying to pull yourself together for long enough to give him what he was asking for. You squeezed your eyes shut, taking long breaths as you bargained with the devil. The godless acts you engaged in that night made all of your prayers go unanswered, and you knew there was only one person who was listening, now, and you needed his strength to get through it.

You focused on the feeling of him inside you, how well he filled you, how perfect the two of you fit together. You thought of the pleasure with every withdrawal of his hips and the painful sensation every time he slammed himself into you. The two together made an otherworldly combination, but you feared that even that wasn’t enough to force you over the edge.

Getting irritated with your lack of understanding of his need to give you another orgasm, he slowed himself just enough to adjust his position. The hand still lingering on your hip loosened, and he leaned his upper body forward, just a little closer to you. As his fingers continued to trace your clit, he let his forearm rest over your lower abdomen, underneath your belly button. Then, he applied the slightest bit of pressure there, allowing you to get used to the sensation before taking it any further.

A desperate cry left your lips, the small sensation making the world of difference in the moment. As he leaned forward a little further, careful not to take it too far, the pleasure began to grow into something incomprehensible. He was doing so skillfully, applying pressure atop your bladder, which in turn, applied a whole new pressure to your g-spot as he fucked into you.

“That’s it, angel.” He growled, not caring that he was doing the brunt of the work in the moment, because he knew it would be worth it for him. “That’s my girl.” He continued, coaxing you to give in to the feeling one last time. Your walls fluttered around him, drawing him in further as the pleasure reached its peak.

“Jake,” you tried to warn him, but his name barely left your lips before you felt yourself slipping into the state of euphoria only he could give you. Your mind went blank, your eyes squeezed shut as your limbs locked and your legs trembled. You couldn’t breathe, the sensation so intense that it almost forced you to forget how to do so.

Seeing you in such a state again sent him over the edge, and he knew he couldn’t hold himself back any longer. As you descended into your orgasm, so did he. You grasped at his arm, holding him close to you as you cried his name. His hips stuttered, losing the momentum as he withdrew a sharp breath. He muttered a long slur of curses, mixed with small praise as he spilled his release into you, dragging out the feeling for as long as possible. By the time you came down, his orgasm was beginning to fade away, too.

Both of you were breathless, trying to settle the mess of racing thoughts in your minds. He eased up on the pressure he was applying above your hipbone, slowly so the loss did not affect you too badly. He removed his hand from your clit, moving it over your thigh as he placed his hand against the warm skin. Gently, sweetly, he rubbed his hand over your limb, the soft touching helping you come back to reality a little faster. He looked down at where your bodies met, enjoying the view of him buried inside of you as he withdrew his hips slightly. He took in a shaky breath as he gently pushed his hips forward again, fucking his release back into you.

A small sigh left your lips, the feeling of his slight movements amplified by a million after your final orgasm of the night. Eventually, he pulled himself out of you completely, keeping his hand on your leg as he did so. You tried to fight the sinking disappointment in your chest as you noticed the emptiness you felt without him inside you.

Neither of you spoke for a short time, wanting to let the energy of the moment exist in the air for a while before you moved on to anything else. He collapsed on the bed beside you, looking over at you before pulling you into his arms. You melted into the touch, exhausted and comforted by the familiar feeling of his arms around you. You laid your head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat against your face as you fought sleep. It would be so easy, so peaceful to spend the night in the same position, not having to worry about anything else, but you knew a conversation was long overdue.

“I, uh…” he trailed off, taking in a deep breath as he thought about what he wanted to say. “We’re good at being friends, trouble, and we always have been, but I’d like to learn how to be good at being in love with you, too. So far, I’ve sucked at it.” He confessed, his voice quiet and his demeanour anxious.

“I haven’t been very good at it either, but I think I’d also like to learn.” You confessed, your stomach filled with warmth and swarming butterflies.

“Be my girlfriend, Y/N. It’s not much different than what we do now, but with a whole lot more fun.” You laughed, finding his way of asking objectively strange but perfectly fitting for him and your relationship with each other. “Don’t laugh at me. That doesn’t make me feel great.” He chuckled, clearly joking but still a bit nervous of rejection.

“Of course I will, Jacob.” You assured him, unable to believe he really thought you might say no.

“Okay, great.” He let out a breath of relief at the sound of your words. “And obviously not right away, or anything like that, but I think I’d like you to move back in with me. Whenever you’re ready, of course. I miss you when you’re not there. Doesn’t feel right without you.”

“What?” You asked, sitting up with an incredulous look on your face. He recoiled slightly, worried that he said something wrong, but you quickly continued your statement to ease his fears. “And get rid of the pool you worked so hard to build for me?”

“Fuck that pool, trouble.” He laughed, catching on to your joke as quickly as you spewed it. “Sell this place and come back to me, and I’ll build you a thousand fucking pools. I’ll give you whatever you want, s’long as I get to call you mine and wake up next to you again.”

“No need for a thousand pools, Jacob.” You grinned, finding his sentiment sweet but completely unnecessary. “No need for anything at all, because being yours is all I want to do.” With that, you leaned down and placed a kiss to his lips, feeling more at home than you had ever felt before.

Tags: @brookekiszkaa

[rin-may-1103]

The Wrong Robin Au (Part Six)

Previous | Master Post | Next AN: Because I wanted Danny and Jason to be the same age, I've moved the DP timeline forward six years. (If we go with their canon ages and timeline, Danny's the same age as Dick.) I'll make it make sense, but until then please ignore the possible confusion it might cause😅.

Turning, Danny held the picture frame up to show Bruce who he was talking about. Bruce glanced up and studied it for a moment before he looked at Danny. His eyes were calculating just like they had been for the past ten minutes, which might Danny add, was really annoying.

"That's my eldest son, Dick." Bruce finally answered, continuing to watch for Danny's reaction.

Danny blinked, looked down at the picture then turned to put it back. why in the world was his name Dick? like, was that actually his name or was it a nickname? it's not like Danny was judging the kid for it, but seriously, who names their kid dick?

sure, Danny used to fight ghosts named Skulker and Technis all the time, but they chose their names. Did the kid willingly choose to go by dick or were his parents unaware of what the word meant? Danny's really hoping the parents weren't aware of what it meant, because if they were? oh boy was that a bag of worms Danny wanted nothing to do with.

How old was the kid anyway? That looked like an older picture, so he probably wasn't that young anymore.

"How old is he?" Danny asks, turning to study another picture. this one was of Jason hanging out with Alfred in what looked like a kitchen. The kid was covered in flour while Alfred didn't have a single speck of dust on him. They both looked happy.

Bruce was silent for a moment, so Danny turned to look at him. Confusion and shock swirled around him, making Danny frown.

"you don't know how old he is do you?" Danny asked, glaring at Bruce. As much as Danny promised to help him, the man was making it extremely hard to do so, when every time he learns something it makes him want to punt the man into the sun.

alright, so forgetting when someone's birthday is sucks but doesn't make sense for someone like Batman, so it wasn't that exactly it's probably more along the lines of grief messing with his perception of time. yeah, that makes more sense. because if it's not, Danny's not afraid to punch the man again.

"Alright, what's his birthday?" Danny asks, making his way to sit back in the chair he had used previously.

"march 20th," Bruce grumbled, turning to glare out the window like the emo bat he was. And see? He didn't forget the date, which means, Danny was right.

"year?" Danny pushed, slumping down in his chair. It felt like he was pulling teeth with how trying to get information from the man was going. Ancients, Danny was going to go gray before they got anywhere.

"1990," Bruce replied, still glaring out the window like he was in some emo music video.

"Alright, it's 2013, so doing some basic maths, Dick is" Danny pretended to do a drumroll as he quickly calculated the dude's age. and he was a dude because he's definitely older than Danny.

"23," Danny finally announced, looking up to watch as Bruce's emotions spiraled in the air. Anger, hurt, annoyance, guilt. Yep, a full-blown meltdown is on the horizon, everyone. let's back it up, Danny's seen enough grown men cry, he doesn't need to do it again.

"Alright!" clapping his hands, Danny stood up and made his way to the door. opening it, Danny glanced out the hall and spotted Alfred finally making his way back toward them. looks like that blood analysis Bruce definitely ordered Alfred to do finally finished. good.

"Alright, mister anger issues. you need to go to bed." turning back to the room, Danny pointed at Bruce. the man stared at him, his emotions freezing in their downward spiral as he processed the words.

"I agreed," Alfred cut in before Bruce could argue against it, making Danny grin. Oh, he was so going to get along with Alfred, he just knew it.

walking over to the desk, Danny snatched one of the sticky notes and a pen. Writing his number on the paper, he handed it to Alfred, "Here you go. you get to keep it because I have a feeling you'll actually use it properly. it's my number, call me tomorrow after he gets some rest. I'll come back and we can discuss how to go about the Batman business from now on"

"you can't just-" Bruce started, cutting himself off when Alfred took the paper and promptly started guiding him out of his own office. "honestly, Master Bruce. You need your sleep, you've gotten so bad lately, that you willingly fought a child."

"I'll show myself out!" Danny called after them, watching as they turned a corner. glancing at the clock, he noticed a green sticky note. blinking, Danny made his way over. nothing was written on it. which means this was just a hint to start looking around here.

intrigued, Danny started studying the grandfather clock, wondering what clockwork could possibly want him to find. The wood overlay looked fine, and the upper door looked freshly polished. The Moon Dial and clock face looked normal, though the hour and minute hands looked slightly worn down. the glass side access panel looked like it hadn't been touched in years.

hmm, strange. the toe molding had slight scuff marks on the corner like it repeatedly hit against something. glancing around, Danny spotted matching marks on the bookshelf next to the clock. crouching down, Danny studied the marks. it was like Bruce had repeatedly moved the clock around like a door...

standing up, Danny studied the clock handles again. worn down like they had been repeatedly rearranged, but the side access panel looked practically brand new which meant the internal workings of the clock worked perfectly fine. so then why would someone have to reset the time if it wasn't broken?

unless...

carefully opening the glass upper door, Danny studied the clock face closely. the oil from human fingers usually damaged the pearl facing used in most clocks, so all Danny had to do was...

there! right below the X that meant ten, and again slightly behind the XI for eleven. which means...

moving the hour hand to right before eleven, and the minute hand to right before ten (so around minute 48.) Danny heard a click. stepping back, Danny watched as the grandfather clock swung open and revealed a passageway. glancing back to the door Alfred and Bruce had left through, Danny smiled.

"Thanks, clocky," he whispered, heading inside and closing the clock-made door behind him. If Tim was right, and he definitely was, the bat cave was below the manor, and with his enhanced eyesight, Danny could see an elevator at the end of the dark hallway, which meant this was one of the secret entrances. (he's pretty sure Batman's smart enough to have more than one entrance. it'd be pretty stupid not to.)

he had plenty of time to snoop around the Batcave now, which meant he had plenty of time to figure out how it worked and how to use that to his advantage. Bruce can't ignore him and his advice if all the bat suits go missing now, can he?

Next

[moon7jay]

Imagine that you're a very irritable person who gets overwhelmed easily, the frustration with yourself and your surroundings just catches up to you on somedays and its hard to keep your emotions in check. You become angry and you get mean, instantly regretting all the words you throw at people in the heat of the moment but your pride doesn't let you apologize. Jay knows that. Jay knows that you don't mean what you're saying and that you will beat yourself up over it once you've calmed down. So whenever you start snapping at him or people around you for the smallest things, he'll just cage you against the nearest surface, hiding you from the rest of the world while he holds you close to his body "there, there sweetheart, had a rough day yeah baby?" He asks, caressing your cheek while you stare up at him with big teary eyes, the anger now turning to grief. The small angry pout on your lips wanes as they start to wobble. He bends down to kiss you softly, the kiss getting wet cuz of the tears flowing down your cheeks. "I'm s-sorry- your attempts at apologizing for your behavior are cut off by his thumb shushing you "Shh, baby, I got you, let daddy take care of you" he soothes, bending down to pick you up bridal style. He spends the whole night making love to you, letting you cry your heart out in the crook of his neck while he pleasures you slowly and passionately. "My sweet little love, you don't have to be strong in front of me yeah?" he whispers in your mouth, making you sob more. But he's got you, he's always got you.

a/n: I just had a really rough day so don't mind this short drabble, it was a personal need :<

[temmtamm]

I need you to write SOMETHING about yan Ford locking up (gn) reader slskxlflwld please I need him,,,,,,,, ogh

It wasn’t an easy feat to do this, y’know??

Really, he’d expect more appreciation on your part. Don’t you see all that he is putting on the line just for you? But, no. He supposes it is to hasty for a wild animal to suddenly get used to being loved and having a home.

And trust, that IS what you are. A wild, stray dog. One he intends on domesticating.

After all, it would do you no good to live on your own in a town like Gravity Falls. Too many creatures who would tear you limb from limb if given the chance.

Really, it’s much more preferable that he found you than the others.

…

Now, suuure, he may have found you through unconventional ways—But, hey!! Every Romcom starts with miscommunication!!

…His just happened to be him tracking you down after seeing you at the Mystery Shack, finding your home, your family, your first pets name.

It was all in the name of research, however!! Research is what he does best!! He can pick apart and dissect any topic of interest with enough time.

You just so happened to be his latest topic of interest.

—

“You have to eat, y’know?” Ford knelt down next to your curled in form laying weak on the ground, malnourished, sick, with sweat clinging to your skin and hair that hasn’t been washed in days. No matter, he’s seen worse. He’s lived through worse. They don’t exactly have showers in every single dimension, so a couple months is nothing compared to his nearly 30 years without a shower.

You didn’t respond. That has been your new gimmick lately, he noticed. You’re newest stage of grief.

You’ve already went through anger, bargaining, denial—Now, he just had to deal with your depression before he could get to the sweet ivory bliss that was acceptance.

He’d be waiting with bated breath for when you accepted him and how good this truly was for you, when you’d lean into his touch rather than jerk away.

Maybe then you can finally see more of the house than the basement—So long as you don’t snitch to the others why you’re here.

First things first, however, he needed to make sure you were healthy.

“I said eat.” He huffed, thick bushy brows knitting together as his tone grew more stern. That’s how he usually got his way, he noticed. He had to intimidate you. That’s what he had to do to stop you from stabbing him with his pens, to stop you from using any broken shards of glass to cut yourself, and to stop your from telling him how much you hated him.

Strangely enough, however, it didn’t work this time. If he had to guess, this was your new way of getting back at him, of not giving him the satisfaction of taking care of you. You’d sooner die from starvation than eat anything he cooked.

Too bad he wasn’t letting you. “They always want it the hard way..” Ford sighed, shaking his head before one of his hands jutted out, grabbing at your jaw, already so sore and bruised from the other times when he was…less than kind when handling you. It’d stop if you stopped biting, y’know.

“Glk—“ A choked gag left your lips, your nose wrinkling as your eyes grew misty from the pain. You tried to stay strong, to fight against him, though, inevitably, your mouth parted to let out a cry of pain. “Stop—“

You barely had time before a metal spoon was forced down your gullet, burning hot chili following it. You weren’t allowed solids yet.

Your eyes watered further, feeling it burn at your tender flesh and gums, making you swish it around, desperate to alleviate some of the pain before giving up, swallowing to make the pain, and food go away.

You hated that defeat tasted so good, especially with how you had been neglecting yourself lately.

“There we go,” You hated how Ford cooed even more. “That’s much better, isn’t it?”

A pathetic groan left your lips, with your head ducking back in to hide in your curled up form as he reached out, a rough, calloused six-fingers palm petting and playing with your hair as you laid like a old, tired dog.

…The feeling was soft and sweet, contrasting how tired and sore your bones were.

“There we go…Good dog.”

[lilacargent]

As im currently dealing with the loss of a loved one, this is my way of coping.

Grief

Grief is an interstellar concept. Almost every species in the galaxy has its own traditions and practices. Humans are no exception, like with most of their emotions their grief is all encompassing. Traditions vary from one culture to another, even people deal with it in different ways.

Kilare as part of a flocking species wonders about the human crewmates when one is lost in a battle. She knew the passed human Ellie very well. Turns out they grieve like a flock, huddled together weeping, almost giving into the urge to join she turns away, expecting this to last for a long time she leaves them be. When she checks next the little unit is drinking and laughing, she can hardly believe it, carefully stepping into the room “i am sorry, may i ask something?” The humans look up some still blotchy from crying, the human she knows as liz nods “you were all weeping just now, but you seem happy? Im confused…” fluffing her feathers Kilare backpedals “not to be insensitive, im just trying to understand your process.” Evan gets up and walks to her “that is okay, you knew Ellie well right? We are talking about her and how we miss her, laughing comes with the tears.” Motioning for the taller feathered woman to join the little group Moira makes eye contact and starts explaining “i know you are from a species that grieves as a group, if i remember correctly mostly weeping and spread ashes on the wind to join in every flight” impressed by the womans knowledge she nods Moira goes on “humans have many different traditions, but every one grieves their own way and time. Mostly in five stages, denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. No two people go through it the same or even through all of them. There is times we grieve as a collective, sometimes you need time and process as an individual. We are now reminiscing Ellie, but i already know im gonna have a cry later and ill never forget her.” Kamare could understand and respect that so she joined in. It soothed her soul.

It was years before she saw human grief again so up close.

When the Ri’ktil attacked they committed what humans called warcrimes without batting any of their eighteen eyes. The horror of the people quickly turned to fear. It was when they blew up a human colony Kimare saw the unified grief. Human governments trying to bargain with the Ri’ktil, families travelling to the floating remnants of the colony trying to find survivors, denying that what had happened killed everyone man, woman and child. A month passed and humanity had grown silent and passive, the Ri’ktal took this as victory and broad cast it to the rest of the species in the galactic counsel. A warning that they would stop at nothing and break them like they broke the humans. Kimare remembered her conversation all those years ago and realised that anger was still coming, she could almost seeing it brewing under the surface.

A month was what it took. A month for humans to start walking upright again. Not only humans on their planets but everyone, on every world and every ship seemed to have shared in the depression. So when the fog cleared the whispering began, then came the talking, when it turned to yelling the Ri’ktil took notice. It was too late for them though. Because humanity started screaming, unified rage became a spearhead of humans all over the galaxy, noone even considered not helping. The tsunami of humans that could not wait to tear their enemy apart surprised them, no matter their way too many eyes, this they did not see coming.

The counsel joined the humans in their fight, and quick as the Ri’ktil had invaded were they beat back aswell. The defeat of their enemies did not dismiss their grief. But instead of on a specie scale individuals began their own process. Four years later Kimare noticed a change, they had made a monument out of the destroyed colony, it seemed to signify an end point. Humans went there to process and make peace, they had accepted what had happened moved past it. But never forgotten.

Humans didn’t forget when they grieved, they remember and accept.

~~~~~~

Tadah

[novaursa]

I've been LOVING your cregan work and wanted to see if you were doing requests. I was thinking something like the reader (velaryon) was previously married to aemond had a kid with him and something happened to the kid, reader escapes aemond and is with cregan but is still morning the life she previously had and feels bad about it. Maybe she's just given up on everything and cregan just wants to help. I'm so sorry if this makes zero sense 😭

Winter's Solace

Requests are closed!

- Summary: Specters of the past came back today once more to hunt you, but Cregan holds them back.

- Paring: velaryon!reader/Cregan Stark

- Note: The reader is bonded with a dragon Grey Ghost.

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @daeryna @melsunshine @21-princess

The cold wind howls through the ancient halls of Winterfell, but inside your chambers, the fire crackles softly. The warmth from the hearth does little to pierce the chill that’s wrapped around your heart. The North was supposed to be your sanctuary, the place where you could forget. But the past clings to you like a cloak you cannot shed.

For days now, you’ve sought solitude, slipping from the bed you share with Cregan before the dawn, curling yourself into the furs by the window, watching the sky but not really seeing it. You barely eat. Every mouthful seems to turn to ash on your tongue. The memories—the life you had before, the life taken from you—haunt your every waking moment.

The son you lost, taken by blood and treachery.

Your breath trembles as you draw it in, eyes falling to the grey stones below. You told yourself you would never cry again after that night, but the tears threaten to spill all the same.

A quiet knock at the door stirs you, though you do not answer. You know who it is, and part of you wants to tell him to leave. To let you sit here in silence, to let the grief eat at you until there is nothing left. But he’s stubborn, like the North itself. He enters without waiting for your permission, the familiar sound of his heavy boots crossing the threshold.

"Cregan…" Your voice is barely a whisper, hoarse from lack of use. But you don’t turn to face him.

He doesn’t say anything at first. He knows better than to rush you. Instead, he stands in the doorway for a moment, his presence filling the room with a quiet strength. Then, slowly, he crosses to where you sit, his broad figure casting a shadow over you.

"You haven’t eaten," he says gently, kneeling beside you, his eyes dark with concern. His hand finds yours, rough and warm against your cold skin. He squeezes it, hoping to ground you, to pull you back from the abyss you’re teetering over.

You pull your hand away, though it’s not from any anger toward him. It’s because you’re ashamed. Ashamed of the broken thing you’ve become, ashamed that even now, after all this time, the past still holds you so tightly in its grip. You think of Aemond, of the life you once shared with him—however brief and painful—and the child you lost. You think of the vengeance that Daemon and Rhaenyra sought in your name, a vengeance that tore at what little remained of your soul.

"I can’t…" Your voice breaks, and for a moment, you press your lips together to stop the flood of words that want to spill out. "I can’t pretend anymore, Cregan."

Cregan’s eyes, soft yet strong, search your face. He understands. He’s always understood, more than anyone else ever could. When you fled to the North on the back of Grey Ghost, seeking an end to the torment, it was Cregan who saved you. He didn’t ask for explanations, didn’t demand that you be strong. He simply gave you space, gave you time. But now, the time has come to face the wounds that refuse to heal.

He moves closer, sitting beside you, pulling you gently into his arms. At first, you resist, stiff in his embrace, but the warmth of his body, the steady beat of his heart, begins to melt the ice that’s hardened around your soul.

"I don’t need you to pretend, Y/N," he says, his voice a low rumble in your ear. "Not with me."

You close your eyes, leaning into him, allowing yourself the comfort he offers. His hand strokes your hair, gentle and slow, as though he’s trying to calm a wild animal.

"I left them to die," you murmur, the words slipping out before you can stop them. "Aemond… our son. I should have stayed, should have fought harder—"

"You were never meant to stay with him," Cregan interrupts, his tone firmer now, as though he’s reminding you of something you’ve long forgotten. "The life you had with him was built on lies and violence. It wasn’t your fault, Y/N. None of it."

"But it was my mother…" Your voice breaks again, the bitterness of it burning your throat. "It was Rhaenyra. She sent them—Daemon sent them—to kill him. To take my son."

Cregan holds you tighter, his breath warm against your hair. "You’ve carried that guilt too long, my love. What your mother did… that’s on her. Not on you. You didn’t ask for their blood to be spilled."

The tears come then, hot and heavy, spilling down your cheeks as you sob into Cregan’s chest. You hate yourself for it—hate how weak you feel. But he doesn’t let go. He doesn’t pull away or flinch from your pain.

"I loved him once," you confess, voice barely audible. "Aemond… I loved him before all the bitterness and rage. Before the war tore us apart."

"I know," Cregan says softly. "And you loved your son. That’s why you grieve. But you can’t let it destroy you. You can’t let the ghosts of the past steal the life you have now."

You’re silent for a moment, listening to the crackling of the fire and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His words are true, but they don’t erase the pain. Nothing ever will.

"I don’t know how to move forward," you admit.

"One step at a time," Cregan says, pulling back slightly so he can look into your eyes. His gaze is steady, filled with a determination that gives you something to hold onto. "I can’t take the pain away, Y/N. But I’ll be here, every step, until you find your way."

You look into his face, seeing the man who saved you when you thought there was nothing left to save. The man who offers you not just comfort, but a future, if only you can let yourself reach for it.

"I don’t deserve you," you whisper, guilt still gnawing at the edges of your heart.

"Deserve me?" He smiles, a soft, crooked smile that warms you in a way the fire never could. "I think it’s the other way around. You’re a Targaryen, a Velaryon, bonded with a dragon. And yet, here you are in the North, sharing your life with me. If anyone is undeserving, it’s me."

You shake your head, tears still glistening in your eyes. "No… you saved me."

"And I’ll keep saving you," Cregan says, his thumb brushing away the tear on your cheek. "For as long as you need me to."

For the first time in days, something like hope flickers in your chest. It’s faint, fragile, but it’s there. You lean into him again, closing your eyes, letting his warmth and strength anchor you. The grief will always be there, lurking in the shadows. But with Cregan by your side, you feel like maybe, just maybe, you can face it.

Tomorrow, you’ll eat. Tomorrow, you’ll take another step forward. But for now, in this moment, you allow yourself to simply be held. And for the first time in a long time, that feels like enough.

[sepublic]

Post-Hoot with Dana Terrace!

            Dana’s put over 200 hours into games she’s missed since the finale; Octopath Traveler, Little Nightmares, etc. Sarah Nicole-Robles cried harder than she ever did when she said I learned a language I’ll never forget, a whole chapter of my life is over, during the King-ceanera. She said the line once and was suddenly sobbing because of how meta it was. 

         Rebecca has a ‘sona during the bit with Barcus in the epilogue sequence. Cissy also cried when watching with her family, her kids asked her about it; Sarah was really excited as she watched the finale.

         No sequel happening, but we can always hope; Dana would like to do more, but Disney owns the IP and needs to give them permission. Dana knew the prequel line in the finale was ham-fisted as hell but still went with it because she was pissed (she said Fuck to express her rage). Rebecca went back to the Anger phase of grief after watching the finale after realizing what they missed, but Sarah was also in Acceptance because it was hard to regret something that ended so well.

         Dana doesn’t cry that much, but TJ’s remix in the soundtrack made her cry. Dana brought back everyone for BBBYYYEEEEEEE, noting this was every character’s last line, and wished Hooty had more lines. Alex improvised a cut line after the Bye with Hooty expressing appreciation for the finale and readiness for his spin-off.

         Dana won’t say much in hopes she’ll get to do more for TOH in the future; A Youtube reviewer (shoutout to all, Zachary Ax, Man of a Thousand Thoughts, Rebecca herself), the Third Bill got it right on Hooty, and Dana won’t be more specific about that.

         They found out about the shortening during S2; They had an ending in mind that Dana had in mind since development, but it needed too much setup and so they couldn’t pull it off. All of Season 2A was written before knowing the cancellation; Follies at the Coven Day Parade was the first episode fully written knowing the show was shortened, hence the tonal change. The Galdorstones was an arc Dana planned more on, as well as the Coven Heads; Bat Queen; It was a hard situation choosing what to leave out.

         There weren’t whole episodes written that had to be trashed; Just one-sentence ideas on a whiteboard never fully outlined or scripted. But Dana is still happy with what came out, because it was pretty damn cool.

         Rebecca Rose once saw someone with a King sweatshirt like hers at Disneyland and said hi, but they just side-eyed her and didn’t respond; Despite this, Rebecca hopes they had a happy day and believes they were just having a bad time. Sarah joked about not being so forgiving.

         String Bean’s inspiration: Owlbert is in the title of the show, String Bean indeed was there the whole time! The S wasn’t completely intentional at first, but Dana flipped the logo around and figured it out. When making the first episode, the logo wasn’t finalized. They always liked the idea of Luz being connected to snakes, it’s what she brought to school and they liked her reclaiming something she terrorized her classmates with. The Snake-Shifter idea specifically; Zach Marcus just said “Snake-Shifter” as they brainstormed ideas and Dana, being a sucker for lame puns, was sold.

         That was indeed Dana being represented as a student in the epilogue! She was Beastkeeping and Oracle; Dana can see the future of the show, and really likes animals. Raine’s palisman was indeed hidden within the violin’s design; Hunter and Dell worked to fix the palismen after Raine broke it trying to stop Belos. The violin is more akin to the staff, anyhow. Dana considered responding to a question about general Caleb, Evelyn, and Flapjack lore, but Sarah insisted she stay silent in case they get to answer it as an actual story later.

         Dana liked to think while writing Thanks to Them; No, Evelyn’s spirit isn’t in Flapjack. But to Philip, he saw Flapjack as the culmination of the corruption in his brother Caleb; He saw Flapjack, if it weren’t for YOU. You can see a hint of it in Masha’s story, Evelyn entices Caleb with Flapjack, who was Caleb’s introduction to magic. Evelyn was probably disguised as a human, and trusted Caleb for seeming reasonable and less violent. Perhaps like Dog owners passing each other by and suddenly becoming friends over this.

         Evelyn and Caleb’s relationship was sweet, from platonic curiosity to romantic. Eda doesn’t know she’s descended from them, nor does Hunter; And Dana has more to say, but will keep it hidden. Luz will stay the majority of her stay in the isles as she goes to college. Camila bought the shack leading to the human world, which allowed Luz to visit during holidays, weekends, etc.

         They never got to explore it, but it could’ve originally been the home of Philip and Caleb, long abandoned; Eda emerges after discovering the portal. In the next thirty years, she fixes up the shack as she builds the Owl House. Dana also advised fans to google Death of the Author, since she’s technically no longer working on the show, and thus gives permission for fans to write their own answers.

         Eda became the Owl Lady before Owlbert, due to the curse; They planned to do an episode where Eda learned palismen carving with Dell, and how Eda reclaimed the Owl identity to carve Owlbert. Dana stills has the outline of that episode in her head…

         According to Rebecca, Caleb and Philip’s graves were in the basement of the shack, based on this church in New Haven Dana passed by every day on her way to school (Gravesfield is based on some places in Connecticut). However, Dana realized the graves didn’t fit into the story. They also had an ‘original’ Belos design for him taking over animals. Marina Gardner did some amazing Belos designs, and Thanks to Them alluded to it.

         The Portal’s eye comes from the Titan’s missing eye!!! Hunter is bisexual, Willow is pansexual, this is how Dana always wrote and imagined them in her mind, but it’s not explicitly stated so technically it’s more headcanon. Dana noted how some people just picked it up. Dana likes to think Amity and Lilith rekindled their student-mentor relationship. Having worked in the library, Amity was interested in Lilith’s knowledge of history. Dana suggested to Zarya(?) from the design team to add notes to Lilith’s museum blueprints. A helicopter passed over and they joked it was Disney trying to stop spoilers.

         Cissy only got her lines and didn’t know any other details about the finale, to Dana’s surprise; Dana explained that people not getting a full script is due to the pandemic. Before quarantine, actors would get the full script. They have to rely on Eden Riegel and Dana for context a lot. Bosook Coburn spoiled Luz’s death to Rebecca Rose during the celebration party. They came up with a lot of designs for dying Luz, trying to figure out how they can hollow out her head how much. Dana mentions it’s up to the showrunner to show how much they want to the actors.

         Thanks to Sarah, they kept in Luz saying her own SFX during her fight with Eda in O Titan, Where Art Thou; She heard someone do it as part of the mock script and wanted it. When Dana voiced Eda and Luz at the end, Dana was crying. There’s a recording of Season 2B and Season 3 of Dana doing a voice-over of the script to get approved by executives.

         Dana clarified everyone would’ve had more of a chance to talk with each other, such as Hunter and Amity; Hunter would’ve talked to Vee, as well as more human realm kids, literally everyone would’ve had a little more time with each other. Dana loves Luz and Hunter’s sibling dynamic. Dana was sorry they couldn’t have Luz and Raine hang out, but they had the Hexsquad storyline. Luz finished high school in the human world, with the renewed motivation that she’ll go back to the isles. Knowing she has a safe space outside of high school made it more bearable, as was the case for Dana growing up.

         Cissy brought up Gus’ hair in the epilogue, which she loved; Emmy Cicierga did the design for Gus and Raine. Harpy Lilith was by Emmy; Dana did Emira, Eberwolf, and Skara’s timeskip designs. The name of the Titan is unpronounceable for humans.

         Dana can’t say much about the Archivists; The Collector never had a flash-forward design, as they age much more slowly than everyone else. Maybe the Collector got just a tiny bit taller. The idea of the Collector came from creepy dolls, as well as a nightmare; John Bailey Owen had a google folder filled with cool references of creepy dolls with a starry aesthetic, liminal minimalist nightmare-scape. They knew who the Collector was gonna be, what role they’d play, but the vibe still needed to be decided.

         Dana confirmed the Collector was always a part of the show before the shortening, and they solidified their placement after the announcement. The Collector has indeed stayed connected with the others, visits occasionally. Dana has seen fan comics on this and teared up.

         Hooty doesn’t have to be vacated from the Owl House if he doesn’t want to; When the door isn’t active, Hooty could be present. The new portal can probably fold up, and Hooty is busy as a curator for Hooty’s new museum.

         Dana said Raine and Eda’s business is their business; Not all love stories end in marriage. It’s their thing and it doesn’t diminish any love, but they do live in the Owl House together (Raine moved in).

         Mattholomule getting a palisman is something Zach Marcus can answer, since he made the character and Dana respects the lore he made. It’s hard to say for Dana if Vee and Masha are dating, since Masha didn’t show up in the finale, but Vee definitely has a crush on them. Again, Dana encourages the Death of the Author approach, if the headcanon makes you happy.

         Alador and Odalia got officially divorced after the finale, and the kids happily lived away from her. They might visit her if they have the energy, but also recognize she’s a toxic influence they can cut off at any point. Dana gave a shoutout to Rachel McFarlane’s voice acting, praising her performance for Odalia.

         In regards to the tower King was born in, Dana has an answer; It was related to a character we all know, who now may have amnesia.

         There was a plan to explore Gus and Willow’s glowing eyes, and do it for other characters; Amity wasn’t going to have that, strong emotions are indeed connected to magic. It was mostly a worldbuilding magic rule they could’ve expanded on, that Dana wishes she did early in the story.

         In the boards, Dawn Han(?) did Clouds on the Horizon, and did the scene of Amity and the twins hiding in the factory as their parents talk about the Abomatons, Alador is worried since it seems like a tad much. Alador had T-rex arms in the storyboard, and it reminded Dana of Remy from Ratatouille, so when they got to the scene of them looking into Alador’s lab, Ratador was drawn in his place as a joke. Dana laughed so hard she decided to keep it in, with Dana handwaving it as Alador’s palisman.

         According to Dana, a show should be appreciated for as it is; But the other way to enjoy it, under the context it was made, is also important to her; Both ways are valid. It was easier for Sarah to voice depressed Luz since she was also depressed. The writers preferred to put their feelings into the show, VS a more happy-go-lucky approach as others did; It was kind of dark for a bit, especially during quarantine. Sarah felt her own experience validated with Luz’s depression, but she and Dana appreciated the balance of having a happy ending too.

         What made the crew hopeful was knowing the characters would always have a happy ending; Luz could continue her studies in full-force, a new family. They KNEW it would end happy. Dana acknowledged how the fandom misinterpreted “I hate the term happy endings,” and Sarah knew about the quincenera when asked during previous Post-Hoots, but couldn’t answer.

         Rebecca commissioned 3D-printed Funko Pops of S2A Lilith and S1 Luz, and gave them to the others as gifts; Rebecca didn’t know about Avi’s appearance until two days before the Post-Hoot, otherwise she would’ve had a Funko of Raine made. Dana’s stand for Luz had to be made with painter’s tape (she appreciated it) due to Rebecca running out of the other kind, and planned to place it beside her Peabody award. Elizabeth Grullon, Camila’s VA, had to call her mom in the middle of a session to translate her line about maduros into English.

        Cissy clarified this wasn’t intended to be the final Post-Hoot! And the video was ended with a BBBBYYYEEEEE!!!!!