#i still think i suck with them but i did beat the boss of this mission with them and on my first try

[maranull]

Songbirds and Little Gems are stealth weapons. Mmhm.

[no1ryomafan]

Playing more umbraclaw and after beating two bosses suddenly some gunvolt looking ass furry reject just showed up and made things harder he has three health bars which isn’t normal for the bosses and he showed up first at the start of one stage I just got to what the FUCK is going on

[nochepsicodelica]

NSFW

I think it would be so hard for Toji to deny you of anything when you're upset to the point of crying. You always act so passive about things that bother you, for him, because he rarely falls apart on you, so who are you to dump your emotions on him like that?

You come home from a really bad day at work that never allowed your headache to cease. Everybody was turning things in late, nobody was working to beat their deadlines—extended deadlines— and you were the one who took the hits for it all, as the leader of your group. You were one more mentioned member of your team away from snapping at your boss. Thankfully, you were allowed to go home after that talk.

Toji got home before you, so he had some time to wind down from his own stressful day, but the minute you walked in, he knew there was something wrong. You barely acknowledged him, a small smile being all you offered him, before you dragged yourself to your shared bedroom. No 'hi, baby' followed by you literally tossing yourself onto him, or even a 'wow, you're home before me?'

That didn't slide with him like you may have thought it would.

He got up after waiting two minutes for you to come back out. You never did, so he went after you, immediately spotting you face down on the bed. Your body was trembling, your shoulders jumping with your sobs. It was a strange sight, but it didn't make him feel any less concerned for you. He strode over to your side, resting a palm on your back. Your body was rigid with tension, your shoulders unable to drop because of it. He's sure you'll complain about the pain once you've calmed down a little more.

It was hard to get you to talk, but eventually you spilled every detail of what made you feel this way. Toji couldn't relate to your patience. If he were disciplined for other people's actions despite doing his job of trying to catch them up and reminding them to do things, he would be livid. You aren't like that, though. Things happen at work. Things that lure out frustration, anger, and overall feelings of wanting to implode and instead of leaving it there at work, where it belongs, you bring it home. You've clearly reached your breaking point.

"Want me to kill them?" He asks, feeling you shake your head against his chest in response. "Might just do it behind your back if you come home like this again, ma. Dead serious," he says, noting that you still haven't fully relaxed in his hold. "No reason you should ever be this stressed over people not doing their jobs. Fucking idiots, acting like children because they know it all weighs down on you."

You wanted to cry again at the way he tightened his hold on you while he defended you. You sucked it up and moved off of his chest, and when he looked down to see what you were doing, you kissed him. Your hand went beneath his shirt and felt up his warm, sculpted abdomen.

Clothes were removed and you now sat on his lap, his cock deep inside you. He knew you needed this despite how you were so distraught when he came into the room. He couldn't turn you down when you asked if he could be as close to you as he could. He knew you needed to release some steam, but he didn't expect it to be so calm. You laid your head on his shoulder, your arms draped around his neck while he held you close, his hands resting on your back.

Toji cooed at you, when you started sniffling, again. Slowly but surely, you were releasing all those bottled up emotions, your tears landing on the bare skin of his shoulder.

"Shh... it's alright. You don't have to think about anything, right now." He presses a kiss to your shoulder and then one to the side of your neck, before moving his hips a little, luring some quiet sighs from you. "Yeah, let me take care of you, mama. Just gotta breathe for me. That's all you gotta do, 'kay?"

You nod against his shoulder and allow him to bring both of you, soft, intimate, and unhurried pleasure. Your moans were light and airy, your whimpers soft and muffled by his skin.

Toji's orgasm rolled in before yours. His generous amount of release coated your walls, heavy and ragged breaths grazing your skin. In his head, he blames it on being able to become a safe space for you and his ability to provide protection. Your emotions were unconfined and you confided in him to soothe you. The mixture of physical intimacy and his comforting words was enough to calm you down. Your shoulders weren't tense anymore, and you were able to melt into his embrace.

Your orgasm had your body quivering against his. The sound of your rapid breathing was all you could release into his neck, your nails dragging across his shoulders through the intensity. He smiled softly, satisfied when you let out the smallest squeak.

"That's it, baby. Good girl. Just relax." He strokes your back, stilling his hips once the zenith of your pleasure passes.

Once the adrenaline dies down a little, you go back to rest your head on his shoulder, retightening your arms around him. Toji keeps stroking your back, his other hand resting on the back of your head.

"You're not going to work tomorrow. You have... let's see... food poisoning and you can't move without feeling like you're gonna blow chunks." He can feel your laughter against him, your shoulders jumping as a positive gesture compared to how he found you, luring a smile onto his face. "I'm not taking no for an answer either. We're both out tomorrow, 'cause I can't leave you here to die. Alright?"

"Okay," you mumble.

[untoldstar]

yandere boss when you find another job

warning: fem reader, yandere themes, obsessive behavior, abuse of power

At first, he notices a change in your demeanor, you do as you're told but you don't engage with him as much as you used to, the conversations you two had felt quite..personal to him, you two would talk in his office where no one would overhear or interfere, you even had inside jokes that only you two would understand, it felt special to him, so when conversations with you wouldn't go past five sentences alarms started going off in his head, did he say something to upset you? has one of your co-workers been bothering you? just tell him he can take care of it in the blink of an eye! it's not like it would be the first time he's done that for you. Perhaps your workload has been too exhausting? he'll happily give you a vacation if it means you'll treat him how you used to

This man reflects for a whole day to make he didn't upset you in any way, he gives you simple errands and prolongs your breaks but that only seems to spark even more of an unpleasant emotion in you, he replays all the security cameras in the office to see if someone has been harassing you which doesn't turn out to be the case but it does lead him to notice you being on the phone more often than usual and his mind immediately goes south, has she gotten a boyfriend? when? how have I not noticed this..

He backtracks all your calls to find out who you've been talking with so he can deal with them properly but he finds that most of your calls have been with another company..what would you need from another company? a job application? you were planning on leaving him?!

He becomes so paranoid, he goes to every length possible, he makes everyone in the office guilt trip you into staying with comments on how work would suck if you weren't there, how they would have a crisis every week if you weren't there to handle it quickly and swiftly every time, just what would they do without you?

He almost goes as far as giving you a bad reputation in the company you were planning on applying to when it finally happened..

You walking into his office with the most serious face you've had since he hired you, he listens to you utter the words "I'm resigning" from your beautiful soft lips and the rest is turning into muffled mumbles in his brain because the only thing he's thinking of is locking you both in his office forever where he can keep his eye on you, where you can't run away from him.

You finish the speech you so clearly prepared and exhaled while looking at him expectantly, guilt written all over your face, he doesn't say anything for a few seconds, the silence filling up his spacious office until it's broken with a deep chuckle, your shoulders slump down, that definitely wasn't the reaction you were expecting, he rises from his chair and starts to make his way around the desk to where your standing, the sound of his hitting the floor with every step only makes you more nervous "what could you possibly want from another company love? everything you need is right here!" you shift your weight to step back "I..well I already told you why-" he steps closer invading your space "ah yes you mentioned it but that's simply not good enough, see, all the reasons you've mentioned I can take care of I still fail to see why you would go searching for that somewhere else, could it be me you're escaping?" you're eyes blow wide "no! of course not..look, sir, I'm sorry but even though I know you're fully capable of providing me with what I'm searching for but I've already decided..working with you has been-" you jolt as he slams his hand on the desk trapping you against it, his head hangs low for a second before he lifts it and your heart skips a beat at the look in his eyes, you've never seen him look at you that way the entire time you've worked here " ah..your behavior over the past two weeks makes sense now, you were too guilty to act the way you usually do because you knew it was special too! and you just couldn't bring yourself to do that when you were planning on leaving..oh you sweet little thing, it must have been so hard to act so cold towards someone so special to you but alas, your efforts are in vain because you're not going anywhere my love.."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Long Snake Moan 4

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Loki

Summary: your boss gives you a task you’re not prepared for.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“Yes, please, he should be waiting,” you confirm and hang up the phone.  

You’re still in a daze. You barely remember getting to your desk or dialing the call. You’re functioning on habit alone as your mind reels. 

“Ahem,” the throat clear makes you wince and you look up at Loki as he looms on the other side of your monitor. 

You sit up straight and fix the screen, adjusting it so you can see. He tuts and grabs it again, stopping you from sinking into your work. That’s how you deal with things. You just ignore them. 

“What?” You look at him. 

“What?” He echoes.  

“Why are you still here? You have the...” you can’t even say it. You’re married. Somehow.  

“I’ve every right to stay close to my wife.” 

“Ooh, don’t say that,” you shake your head. 

“Pardon?” His brows tweak. 

“Don’t say it out loud. That word. Wife--” You suck in air and hold it in your chest. You shudder as you let it out slowly. 

“You should be flattered. I am a god. You are... minuscule, even for a Midgardian,” he slithers. 

“So why did you do that?” Your voice peaks. 

He snickers. “Well, let’s not get off to such a rough start. There are things still to tend to. As I have it, your marital traditions require a band?” 

He leans in to look over the monitor as your fingers flutter nervously by your keyboard. You follow his gaze and find a large green emerald mounted on a golden band. Where the heck did that come from? You raise your hand and try to wrench it off. It’s stuck! 

“It cannot be undone as easily that,” he taunts. “So, in my research, you are not so dissimilar to Asgardians in the way of marriage, however, I don’t think you’d be fond of a blood sacrifice so I’ll spare you that.” He laughs as you blanch at him. You’re annoyed at how amused he is. “Though the matter of consummation...” 

“Alright, no,” you stand and wave your hands. “No, no. I’m working. I’m busy.” Your voice is brittle and salty in your throat. You sweep around the desk and shoo him, “you need to go, alright? I have work to do and this is insane. So please, leave.” 

He catches you by the wrists as he faces you. You gulp at the iron in his grip. You tug but he doesn’t even flinch. You stare at his pale fingers. He feels like ice. 

“Loki, sir, later when I’m done we can discuss--” 

“I preferred when you called me a prince. Yes. Proper titles. ��My Prince,’" he sneers. 

You sniff and squirm against his grasp, “my prince, please, will you go? I can’t handle this right now.” 

His lip curls as his green eyes blaze down at you. Is he angry? Entertained? Annoyed? 

“You needn’t be so scandalized. I am perfectly attractive. I am an exceptional choice in mate. By any standard in this universe, I am coveted. Don’t pretend that heart isn’t skipping a beat at my very touch,” he drawls. 

“Yes, it’s a condition. I’ve had it checked. They said it’s nothing to worry about,” you babble dumbly. You know he doesn’t mean that but you really can’t deal with his true implication. 

“We have to seal this union or I have no case for my residence--” 

“Got it. I get it. I understand,” you ramble. “But right now is not the time for that--” 

“There’s an office right there--” 

“Not now,” you repeat. “Loki,” you rip your hands free as his hold on you slackens. “I need to finish my work here and to be honest, I could use a little time to process this.” You turn away and stride back around the desk to face him from the other side. “I should have everything wrapped up at six and then we can figure things out.” 

You sit but your chair is higher than you expect. You blink and he’s gone. No, he’s below you. You writhe in his lap as he wraps an arm around your middle. You push on his elbow and squeal. 

“What are you doing?” You whine and kick your legs. 

“Well, darling, you sat in my lap. It’s rather forward of you,” he laughs. 

“Stop, stop!” You shove his arm helplessly. “I’m begging you to just--” 

“Oh, I knew you would beg--” 

“Enough!” You yell and stomp his foot. You get free and throw yourself off of him. You hit the desk and spin in the small space between you. You puff out as your adrenaline pumps behind your ears.  

You put your hands out, speechless. You can’t think. It’s all a scramble. You clap your palms together and twine your fingers. Then you cup your hands and cover your mouth. 

“Darling, you are dramatic,” he muses. 

You finally untangle your fingers and throw up your arms. You shake your head and turn to storm off. You don’t look back. You are going to hide in the bathroom until the world doesn’t feel so shaky. 

[mechaknight-98]

That time I got abducted by an Alien Warlord Masquerading as a K-pop Idol (NSFW) FT Jihyo

Author's note: My 100th fic and my reaching 1,500 followers coincided so I should do something special. My original thought was a Jeewon fic where she's a massive crime boss, but I had just written her. Then the next idea was a threesome, but I'm still tired from writing that foursome so that was a no-go. I was kinda stuck, I thought about going on hiatus but then Twice had a new comeback, and the idea for 8ft tall Galatic Empress Jihyo came to mind and everything fell into place. Also I guess this is the “First” Diabolos series story.

“Jihyo?” I ask. Jihyo nods her head. My brain is fuzzy as I come to from being crushed by debris

“Oh good you already know who I am,” Jihyo says pleasantly while I look her up and down. “Nice to meet you C-137 resident,” she said as she got up. Her hand outstretched to mine and I took it to shake hers. She smiled

“The name is Diabolos,” I responded taking her hand. Her aura exuded grace and power. (or maybe it was the fact that she was 8 feet tall) her smile was genuine, but something about all of this still felt off.

“You know when I was receiving reports from the Carbonicphage,” how one little being was waging a war against it single-handedly and winning I had to investigate. Imagine my surprise when I also learned that he is also part CMR-1957. Talk about special. I hate how CMR-1957 destroyed itself such a promising race filled with so much potential and promise”

“Huh,” I said confused by all the numbers. Jihyo smiled with understanding before answering.

“Oh right, you still name the new planets you find instead of indexing them based on region. C-137 is what we call earth.” Jihyo said. I nodded and she smiled again. It seemed practiced though not genuine and it set me on edge.

“Okay, penultimate question: why are you 8 feet tall?” I ask very confused.

Jihyo laughs and says, “Oh this is my true form,”

Due to the circumstances (and my brain is fried), I replied, “That's hot,” Jihyo looked at me confused before I quickly changed the subject.

“So what happens now?” I ask

Jihyo smiles and says, “Now we take over. You're race is dying anyway so well just clean up the mess you've made and dust the planet off before we can put more settlers on it. That was all I needed to hear I activated my nano email and brought out “Wings of Liberation” Jihyo smiled before saying,

“Now dear did you honestly think that your tech would scare me?” she said as multiple tendrils of steel pierced my flesh. A strange feeling surged in my body along with a searing pain. Jihyo pouted.

“I'm sorry Diabolos but you are too interesting to kill. I need to crack you open to see what makes you tick. I hope you understand it is nothing personal. ” she said as the tendrils dragged me away

Eventually, I passed out from the pain. When I found consciousness again the first thing I saw was Jihyo sitting in front of me pouting before she noticed my eyes opening.

“Oh great you're awake,” she said with a bright smile.  I found my heart skip a beat and cursed the muscle for finding comfort and joy in her presence.

“So I told the other C-137 residents that we were taking over and do you know what they did? They shot at my ship. Like can you believe that? I was prepared to let them die off naturally since the endless conflicts you have will destroy your home before I do, but now I am mad.” she said fuming. The craziest part. I found myself feeling bad for her. Like from her perspective she's not used to how we do things. So her peaceful PSA may seem like a violent declaration of war to us.

“That sucks but hey it could be worse. They could have destroyed the ship.” I say with genuine empathy. Jihyo smiles and then waves her hand. Her tendrils remove themselves from me she catches me before setting me down.

“Follow me,” she says. As I dust myself I feel a bunch of conflicting feelings that I push down.

Without missing a beat Jihyo says “Stop that!”

Jihyo turns back to me and says, “You have… (she searches for the proper word) The Void embraces it. It's a part of you, not a burden.”

I look at her confused then ask, “Huh?”

“In my culture, there are those who feel/ desire with the insatiable capacity of a Black hole. Those are typically the ones who push our culture forward. We venerate them yet you suppress them. Don't do that.” Jihyo says with a smile. I return it and Jihyo smiles.

“Oh Mr grumpy finally has a smile,” Jihyo teased as I followed her

Jihyo leads me through a series of winding corridors, her pace steady and confident. The architecture of the ship is sleek and alien, filled with an otherworldly beauty that leaves me in awe despite my circumstances. As we walk, Jihyo explains more about her culture and the purpose of their exploratory and colonizing missions.

“You see, Diabolos, our people have always sought to expand and improve. We believe in the potential of every world, just as I see potential in you,” Jihyo says, her voice soft but firm.

I glance at her, trying to gauge her true intentions. “And what exactly do you want from me?”

Jihyo stops and turns to face me, her eyes intense. “I want you to embrace your true nature. You have a strength and a void within your heart that is rare and powerful. With our guidance, you could become something extraordinary.”

We enter a grand chamber, filled with advanced technology and a breathtaking view of the cosmos. Jihyo gestures for me to sit, and I do so hesitantly.

Jihyo says with a smile. I return it and Jihyo smiles.

“Oh Mr. Grumpy finally has a smile,” Jihyo teased as I followed her.

Jihyo leads me through a series of winding corridors, her pace steady and confident. The architecture of the ship is sleek and alien, filled with an otherworldly beauty that leaves me in awe despite my circumstances. As we walk, Jihyo explains more about her culture and the purpose of their exploratory and colonizing missions.

“You see, Diabolos, our people have always sought to expand and improve. We believe in the potential of every world, just as I see potential in you,” Jihyo says, her voice soft but firm, reminiscent of Hyewon’s gentle encouragement.

I glance at her, trying to gauge her true intentions. “And what exactly do you want from me?”

Jihyo stops and turns to face me, her eyes intense and unwavering, a touch of Arin’s directness in her gaze. “I want you to embrace your true nature. You have a strength and a void within your heart that is rare and powerful. With our guidance, you could become something extraordinary.”

We enter a grand chamber, filled with advanced technology and a breathtaking view of the cosmos. Jihyo gestures for me to sit, and I do so hesitantly.

The journey to Jihyo’s home planet was unlike anything I  had experienced before. As we traveled through the vast expanse of space, surrounded by the hum of the ship’s engines and the distant glow of stars, I  found myself drawn to Jihyo’s presence. We sat together in a quiet corner of the ship’s observation deck, watching the swirling galaxies pass by in mesmerizing patterns. While traveling Jihyo force-fed me every language of her empire, along with physical sparring sessions every day while using simulations of her planets gravity. Which ended up being a little under double Earth's. Jihyo despite my slow start was impressed at how quickly I took to everything. Something commented on during one of our shared meals.

Jihyo, with her usual grace, broke the silence. “You know, Diabolos, most beings who visit our planet find it difficult to adjust to our gravity. I’m impressed that you took to it so quickly.” My heart raced despite my reluctance around her. She seemed to genuinely care about me but she also stole me from my planet like I was a stray.

I chuckled softly. “It wasn’t easy at first, but I suppose being a Hybrid Demon King has its perks.” I  glanced at Jihyo, catching the soft curve of her smile in the dim light. “You seem quite at home in space. Is this where you spend most of your time?”

Jihyo nodded, her eyes reflecting the starlight. “Yes, overseeing our exploratory missions keeps me occupied. But I must admit, having a companion like you on this journey makes it more enjoyable.” I found myself smiling words and some not-so-pure thoughts raced through my head.

I  felt a warmth spread through him at my words. “I’m glad to hear that. It’s not often I find someone who can keep up with me.”

Jihyo tilted her head slightly, a playful glint in her eyes. “Oh? And here I thought you preferred the solitude of battles and conquests.”

I  chuckled again, feeling a newfound ease in Jihyo’s presence. “I do enjoy a good fight, but I’ve come to appreciate moments like these—quiet, reflective.”

I found myself drawn to Jihyo’s intellect and wit, her perspectives on life and leadership offering me new insights.

As the ship continued its journey through the cosmos, I couldn’t deny the growing attraction I  felt towards Jihyo. Her confidence and poise, coupled with a genuine curiosity about me, stirred something within me that I hadn’t felt in a long time.

Before long, we found ourselves standing side by side at the observation deck’s viewport, watching a distant nebula unfold in vibrant hues of blue and purple. Jihyo’s shoulder brushed against mine before leaving her head on my shoulder, and I  turned to meet her gaze.

“You know,” Jihyo began softly, her voice barely above a whisper amidst the gentle hum of the ship, “there’s something about you, Diabolos. Something that intrigues me beyond your prowess in battle.”

I met her gaze, my heart racing at the intensity in her eyes. “And what might that be, Jihyo?”

Her smile was luminous against the backdrop of the cosmos. “I believe it’s your capacity for change, for embracing new possibilities. You’re more than just a warrior; you’re a catalyst for transformation. No, you're beyond that you are a nexus point where you move the worlds around you. ”

Our words hung in the air between them, charged with unspoken meaning. I reached out, gently placing my hand over Jihyo’s, feeling a surge of connection that transcended words or worlds.

“Perhaps,” I  murmured, my voice tinged with uncertainty yet hope, “perhaps that’s why our paths have crossed.”

Jihyo’s fingers intertwined with mine, a silent affirmation of understanding. “Perhaps indeed,” she replied, her eyes holding a promise of adventures yet to come. I felt a pang in my heart my desires simmering just beneath the surface.

Together, under the canopy of stars, we stood united in the vastness of the universe, on the brink of a journey that would challenge us both in ways we had never imagined, but this nagging thought kept recurring.

“You speak of potential and strength, but what about mercy and compassion? Do those not have a place in your world?” I ask, my voice tinged with defiance.

Jihyo’s smile fades slightly, replaced by a thoughtful expression. “Mercy and compassion are seen as weaknesses in our culture. They are sentiments that can be exploited. But perhaps, in time, you could help us understand their value,” she adds, showing a hint of Hyewon’s warmth and openness.

I nod, and Jihyo takes me to her home world.

It’s beautiful. The architecture is menacing but elegant. The air is crisp and clear. As I walk out of the ship, Jihyo gestures for me to be careful as their gravity is much higher than Earth’s. I nod. When the door opens, I feel the weight of the world (literally) crush me. Jihyo goes to steady me, but I shoo her hand away as I stand up.

“I stand on my own,” I say. Jihyo smiles, watching me take my first few steps proudly on her homeworld. As I take further steps, Jihyo encourages me to be free.

“Cast your burden of normalcy aside,” she says, her words genuine and soothing, akin to Hyewon’s nurturing support. I release a tension in my gut I didn’t know was there. When I open my eyes, all I see is Jihyo’s brilliant smile. Her touch lingers on my “horns” as she caresses them, shivers arcing throughout my body.

As we walk through the city, I feel a weight cast off my chest. Although it felt like I was carrying my weight plus 415 pounds, Jihyo led me into a restaurant. Despite the looks I get from the other members of Jihyo's race, I ask:

“Hey, Suny, what is your race called?”

Jihyo’s smile is bright. “Was that a pet name?” she teases, a playful glint in her eyes reminiscent of Arin’s boldness. I sit back, then think.

“No, there’s no going back now,” Jihyo says before grabbing my hand. Her touch is sensational; it feels like every nerve is on fire. I am filled with a boldness that I had long thought I intentionally diminished.

“Yes, it was,” I say confidently, “Now answer the question.” The stares surrounding me seem impressed instead of judgmental upon hearing that. Jihyo smiles.

“Spoken like a true Pharo,” Jihyo says before taking me into an intense kiss. My heart races at the smell of her perfume (the closest equivalent I could think of was orchids and lilies). When she breaks it, she smiles and licks her lips.

“Let’s skip the meal. You need a fight,” she says. I nod, ramped up and raring to go.

Being the Empress of the Pharo empire has its privileges, one of which is arranging a pitched battle at almost any time.

My blood races through my body despite my fatigue. I have never felt so alive. Before the fight, Jihyo sits next to me.

“Oh, you’re ready,” she says. “I see it in your eyes.” I smile and get up.

“When you win, I’ll have a reward for you,” she says, smiling brightly. I smile and head out to the pitch.

Jihyo proudly announced to her people, “Ladies and gentlemen today we have a very interesting pitch fight for you. Our very own pitch fight champion Priam vs. The Hybrid Demon King from C-137 Diabolos.” at that moment I had never felt more seen for who I was and I basked in it. “This is where I belong,” I thought to myself “I'm the king” were the only thoughts in my head as I got ready for battle. Priam Faced me he stood 10 feet 4 inches tall and carried with him a massive sword. I smiled as I activated my nanomail and unsheathing wings. Priam smiled. In a bright flash, he lunged his blade at me. I blocked with an axe form of wings which made Priam smile

“Oh okay.” he retreated but I pressed on. The offensive. I jumped and swung the axe to his chest. Electricity arcing off mine.

Prima smiled as he released fire from his sword I blocked his swing with my axe. He looked at me and said, “I know you have more go for it.”

So I oblige him. My armor transforms again as more hyper-blade jets cover me along with more electricity and other energies flowing through me. Priam claps seeing this but doesn't expect my next attack. I jump in the air and barrel towards him at near the speed of light. He smiles as he is launched out of the ring. The arena is silent before the crowd cheers my name

“DIABOLOS! DIABOLOS!” they repeat again and again. I feed on that energy and acclaim and pound on my chest. In the crowd, I make eye contact with Jihyo whose eyes look at me with a hungered fervor. She smiles graciously

After the battle, Jihyo brought me into her home, and honestly, it was not what I expected. Instead of a grand place, it was a humble 4-bedroom home. I found myself more at ease. We sit on her love seat and she says.

“I watched your fights with the Carbonicphage and the one they call Haiabd and I noticed that. You held back against them. Why?”

I pondered Jihyo’s words before answering “It's hard to fight when all your opponents feel like they are made of paper,” Jihyo nodded and asked

“What about my world how does it feel?”

Her eyes held an intense gaze that reminded me of Arin.

“I love it here. I have never felt as free to be me. I don't have to suppress or stuff anything down. I can walk and talk how I like.” I respond while gazing into her big soothing eyes.

“That's good I knew you belonged here. While not born a pharo you certainly have our spirit.” Jihyo says happily as she kisses me. I breathed in her perfume again as my brain scrambled. Guilt danced at the frayed edges of my mind, but here with Jihyo, it felt correct. It felt like home or at least what I wanted out of a home. Emotionally nourished as well as physically.

I spent the next several weeks maybe months (time is weird here)  just training and spending almost all my time with Jihyo. I fought in 4 more pitch battles. I won 3 and lost one, to Jihyo. I felt my attraction for her growing by the day, as she began to nestle herself into the same space that Arin and Hyewon held.

The pitch was empty, save for Jihyo and I The vast arena was a testament to the grandeur and power of the Pharo, its architecture both intimidating and awe-inspiring. We had just finished a grueling training session, and the sun beginning to set on the horizon, casting a warm glow over the landscape.

Jihyo stretched lazily, her movements graceful and feline. "You know, for someone who’s never taken anything seriously, you’re a surprisingly good company and an exceptional leader," she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

I  chuckled, leaning against one of the pillars. "Is that your way of saying you enjoy my presence, Jihyo?"

She rolled her eyes playfully. "Don’t let it go to your head, Demon King. I’m just saying you’re not as insufferable as you look."

I raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on my lips. "Coming from the Empress of Insufferability herself, I’ll take that as a compliment."

Jihyo feigned offense, placing a hand over her heart. "Oh, you wound me, Diabolos. Here I thought we were becoming friends."

I  laughed, the sound deep and genuine. "Friends, huh? Is that what you call this?" I gestured between them.

She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Well, I did say you’re good company. Maybe I even like having you around."

I  met her gaze, my eyes searching hers as my heart raced. "Careful, Jihyo. I might start thinking you have a soft spot for me."

She tilted her head, a slow smile spreading across her face.  “I do. Despite your race’s propensity for weakness, you rise to every occasion I have set. It's becoming a thrill just to make new obstacles for you plus  I just like the challenge you present. You’re not like the others."

"And you like that?"I asked, my tone turning serious for a moment.

"I do," she admitted. "You’re different, and it’s intriguing. Keeps me on my toes. Even when compared to other Pharos you have this drive to win no matter what and you give everything to do so. It inspiring"

I leaned in, our faces inches apart. "Well, I’m glad I can keep the mighty Empress intrigued."

Jihyo's gaze flickered to my lips for a brief second before meeting my eyes again. "Just don’t get too comfortable. I still expect you to keep up with me."

I  grinned. "Wouldn’t dream of doing anything less. In fact, I hope to surpass you"

We shared a moment of silence, the tension between us palpable yet pleasant. Jihyo broke it with a light laugh, pulling back and gesturing to the center of the pitch. "Come on, let’s see if you can handle another round. I can’t have you thinking you’ve already won me over."

I  followed her, my grin widening. "Winning you over, huh? Is that a challenge?"

Jihyo looked over her shoulder, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "You wish, Demon King. You wish." I may have not won her over but she has stolen my heart

We get back to her home after training for 7 hours. Jihyo is impressed by something she makes known as I head into her house to shower and when I exit.

When we got back Pharos Jihyo was exhausted as was I. The battle celebration would have to wait as we headed to her home. We headed to her bathroom to rinse the stains of battle from us we entered her large bath together. The tension between us was intense. My body was giving me all the signals to mount Jihyo then,  but my mind told me not to. Our eyes lock, and Jihyo’s look sets my aching loins ablaze.

“You have grown so strong here,” she says. Eyes fully dilated. I nod and she remarks.

“Okay enough foreplay”  before pouncing on me

Jihyo smiles before kissing me. I feel my hands go to her heaving tits and I grab them unconsciously.

“Oh my,” she says and I instantly freeze. I retract my hands and Jihyo pouts.

“Why Did you do that? I know you've been thinking about it?” she said. I look at her worried. Jihyo slaps me.

“Take what you want,” she says. She slaps me again and repeats her words before my horns come out and she smiles. I rip her blouse open revealing her tits and grope them before going in for another kiss. Jihyo moans in my mouth as she slips her hand into my pants. Despite her size and strength her touch is exceedingly gentle. She breaks this kiss and says, “What do you want?”

“I wanna fuck those fat tits, and fill your cunt to the brim. I want to mark your entire body. I want you to know who you belong to. I want you to know who you belong with?”

Jihyo moaned and said, “Then take it.”

I slipped into another kiss with Jihyo. She lowers herself to my crotch before wrapping her beautiful breasts around my cock. She smiles.

“How's that?” she asks.

“So good” I moan out

Slow is not in Jihyo’s vocabulary she rails me with her boobs and I try my best not to cum too earlier but she takes that as a challenge.

Her intensity increases as she says, “cum for me. Please it'll be good I promise. I want you to feel good.  Come on, please. I need it. You need it too. Let go” Her eagerness gets the better of me as I explode all over her tits. She smiles happily and massages my seed into her mounds. Watching her basking in my cum is enough to get me hard again. Without a second thought, I pick her up out of the bath with a strength I didn't know I had (reminder she is 8 feet 3 inches or so) and carry her to her bed. She smiles as she shimmies her pretty tits for me. My cock begs to be inside her as I watch her enraptured. She smiles and says

“Fill my cunt to the brim,” she encourages. I nod and thrust into her tight sex. She moans like a banshee. When I bottom out her eyes focus on me and I'm captivated by her eyes. Her look was fierce and determined. Her walls clutch me like a warm wet hug as I continue to plow her. I groan as her pussy sloshed under me. A light sheen of sweat begins to cover her body as in the golden hour her tan skin radiates even more of her beauty. I smile which she mirrors and she says,” cum” Her words spur me on and I absolutely flood her pussy.

Jihyo smiles and says, “Well you certainly filled me.” I landed next to her and she was all smiles. I grabbed her and hugged her tight as I passed out exhausted.

The next day had been long, filled with negotiations and boring peace talks. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting hues of orange and pink across the sky, Jihyo and I found ourselves on a quiet balcony overlooking the capital city of Pharos: Cairo. The bustling sounds of the city below seemed distant from our perch, creating a serene atmosphere.

I leaned against the railing, my eyes scanning the horizon thoughtfully, before turning back to Jihyo, who stood beside me. Her presence was a calming influence amidst the evening breeze.

“It’s beautiful,” Jihyo remarked softly, her gaze fixed on the fading light. “Pharos has a way of captivating you, doesn’t it?”

I nodded, having now almost been here a full year. I had accepted Pharos as my home. “It’s different from Earth, but there’s a majesty to it. A strength that resonates through everything here.”

We lapsed into a comfortable silence, the only sound the gentle rustling of the wind and the distant hum of the city below.

“You know,” Jihyo began, her voice quiet and introspective, “for all the battles we fight and the challenges we face, moments like this remind me of why we fight. It’s not just about power or dominance. It’s about preserving something greater than ourselves.”

I turned to look at her, a smile forming. “So you do think about other things besides competition and winning,” I teased.

Jihyo pouted. “Relax, Yoyo. You have a way of seeing things. A perspective that goes beyond the battlefield.”

She met my gaze, her eyes reflecting a depth of emotion. “I’ve seen too much not to appreciate moments of peace. Pharos is my home, but it’s moments like this—with you—that make it feel truly alive.”

A gentle smile tugged at my lips. “I’m glad I can share this with you.”

We stood together in silence, the fading light casting shadows around us. Her hand found purchase in mine. In that quiet moment, amidst the chaos of our world, Jihyo’s softer side shone through—a leader who cherished peace as much as she did strength, finding solace in the presence of someone who understood her in ways words couldn’t fully express.

She chuckled and said, “Demon King, I have something for you.”

I turned to her, tilting my head in curiosity as she pulled out a necklace.

Jihyo rolled her eyes. “When I found you, you had two rings. They were broken, but I had Priam reforge them into this drill core. I hope you like it.”

I smiled at her gesture and happily took the necklace, but my heart was heavy. Arin and Hyewon were probably worried sick about me, and here I was, going on a cosmic adventure. banging a space milf… I know Jihyo wasn't a milf but you get the idea.

Jihyo sensed my turmoil and said, “If they cared about you, they would have come for you. Or at least we’d be hearing stories about people looking for you.” Her words cut deep, but before I could respond, she pulled me in for a kiss.

I fell under her spell, my worries slipping away. At that moment, I fully embraced being a Pharos. Jihyo sensed the change in me and smiled. “Now,” she said softly, “let’s go home.”

We arrive at our place and Jihyo smiles.

“I love you,” I say.

“I love you more,” she says back

The next day Jihyo and I lounge around the home enjoying the peace. During the night was a peace festival

The Pharos festival was in full swing, vibrant lights casting a warm glow over the bustling city of Cairo. The air was filled with laughter, music, and the tantalizing aroma of local delicacies. Jihyo and Diabolos walked side by side through the crowded streets, their hands occasionally brushing against each other.

"What's this?" Diabolos asked, pointing to a colorful stand filled with intricate masks.

Jihyo grinned, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "It's a tradition. We wear these masks and dance through the night. It's meant to symbolize shedding our burdens and embracing our true selves."

Diabolos picked up a mask adorned with shimmering scales, his fingers tracing the delicate craftsmanship. "Sounds like fun. Which one should I choose?"

Jihyo selected a mask for herself, its design elegant and fierce. "Try this one," she suggested, handing me the mask. "It suits you."

We donned our masks and joined the dancing crowd. The music was infectious, and I found myself moving to the rhythm, my worries and responsibilities melting away. Jihyo danced beside me, her movements graceful and free, a side of her I rarely saw.

As the night wore on, We found ourselves at the edge of the crowd, catching our breath. Jihyo removed my mask and I removed hers to see her big smile.

"This is incredible," I said, my voice filled with awe. "I never imagined a place like this."

Jihyo smiled, her expression softening. "I'm glad you're here to share it with me."

We head back home and Jihyo’s arousal is palpable. Her body demands sex and she intends to get it.

Jihyo cornered me in our little home, but the line between predator and prey blurred as I took her hungrily in for a kiss. When I broke it Jihyo was dizzy her eyes unfocused on anything but me. She looked deep into my eyes before going in for another kiss. Her prey drive triggered knowing she caught me. She lifted her dress revealing her magnificent bare breasts in between frenzied kisses. Jihyo smiles.

“Someone’s excited,” she says elated at the feeling of being so desired. I was left breathless in Jihyo’s wake as she brought me in for another devouring kiss. Our hearts race as we get accustomed to each other.

“You know typically you aren’t my type, but I admit. Your boldness has captured me.” Jihyo said excitedly before pulling me to the bedroom. She pushes me onto the bed before pulling my pants down, followed by pulling my underwear out of the way. She chuckles when my cock gently smacks her face.

“Oh, this is such a nice cock.” Jihyo declares before taking me into her mouth, without hesitation, she takes me down her throat. Jihyo’s eyes roll into the back of her head as she inhales my scent; a mix of citrus and natural musk that made Jihyo want more of me.

She begins to bob her head along my shaft taking slow deliberate breaths through her nose as she focuses. As Jihyo’s core heats up from pleasure she claws into my meaty thighs. I felt electric as Jihyo’s sucked me off with a Rapacious Appetite.

“Oh fuck,” I moaned Jihyo smiled around my cock. She grabbed my balls hoping to illicit an even greater moan, and she got it. I was overwhelmed with pleasure my brain couldn’t process it. Jihyo smiled even harder as she continued but didn’t expect an explosion from me when she bottomed out again. She drank my baby batter. It was sweet and salty as she savored the taste. She got up from between my legs and stared at his unfocused but lusted over eyes. She watched as my eyes traveled all over her body eye fucking her with reckless abandon. Before I could think I was back to kissing Jihyo. Not one to be outdone she pushed herself to see how much of me could take. Her hand wandered to my cock as she began stroking me again. I was so ravenous to the point I lowered myself before Jihyo when I reached her clit I stared into her eyes before taking an exploratory lick. Jihyo moaned before smashing my face into her cunt. I began to lick and nibble everything

I made up for his lack of experience with enthusiasm. I licked and nibbled all around her pussy and clit seeing which Jihyo liked more it seemed that a counterclockwise rotation around her clit mixed with an occasional tongue insertion seemed to drive the woman wild. So using this I pushed Jihyo to orgasm. As she came all over my face her lush thighs wrapped around my skull as I continued to tongue fuck her. Jihyo shuddered as her need to be filled began to overwhelm her until she pushed me from under her. I gave her a confused look as I landed on the bed safely but when Jihyo saw my hard rod her instincts took over. She got on all fours and wiggled her sexy body enticingly.

“Come fuck me,” she said. I happily obliged. I approached her awesome ass appreciatively before piercing her pussy with my petulant penis. Her walls are as comforting as ever.

“Please be rough with me I need it,” Jihyo moaned and I slammed my hips into her. She groans out in pleasure.

“Fuck,” she says as her walls get tighter around me. I slam into her again and watching her ass bounce mesmerized me and pushed me to fuck her harder and harder. I pull her hair up and she moans.

“Yes,” she moans. The way her ass and tits bounce plus the tightness of her pussy leaves me breathless as I cum inside her. Jihyo moans before crashing down on the bed in front of me.

I go to remove my cock from Jihyo and she growls for me to leave it in. Not wanting to see the consequences of disobedience I leave myself embedded in her, as we drift off into sleep.

[hellyeahscarleteen]

"Some people seem to feel that giving way to the other person's wants and needs, completely ignoring their own, is a way of expressing care. One pretty common example of this is: "They want to have a certain kind of sex so badly, and I am really uncomfortable with that right now, but I want to show them I love them so I will have that kind of sex with them anyway." Another common one is "my friend wanted me to take part in an activity I'm really not comfortable with, but I did it anyway so they'll still think I'm cool!" This kind of thinking stems from the fear that if you stand up for yourself, the person will no longer want to have a relationship with you.

But acting as though you have no needs or wants of your own does NOT demonstrate care. What it DOES actually demonstrate is a complete lack of faith in the other person; it demonstrates a belief that the other person does not like you enough to stick around if you have your own boundaries. If your partner or friend has not said anything that would imply that they would immediately stop wanting to hang out with you or be your partner (and if they have, that's been addressed earlier), believing that they would do so shows a lack of trust in them on your part. This lack of faith in the other person may come from a reasonable place, but sometimes it doesn't -- sometimes it comes from you, not from them. It's very frequently the result of insecurity; a lack of belief in your own worth outside of fulfilling a certain role, or feeling like you are not worth anything unless you provide something (like sex, or constant phonecalls, etc). But you can beat this insecurity! Don your Superhero cape (or skip the cape, if you don't want to get sucked into jet engines) and battle that Boss so you can have happier, healthier relationships."

Be Your Own Superhero: Learning How and When to Stand Up for Ourselves by Onionpie

[gretavangroupie]

The Ripe and The Ruin - (Chapter 2)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader, OC x Reader

Word Count: 15.7k

Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Smoking, Angst, Anxiety, Embarrassment, Lying, Sexual Themes, Kissing, Touching.

Find the Playlist Here: Apple Music | Spotify

A new series in collaboration with my talented co-writer @gretavanmoon.

"Like all good fruit, the balance of life is in the ripe and ruin."

JAKE POV

“Did you hear me, Jake?”

Your head snaps to the side, your mind refocusing on the conversation being had around you. Josh stares at you with a questioning look on his face, his arms crossed against his chest. 

“What? Yeah,” you lie, “That sounds fine.”

“You’re not even listening to me. I asked if you knew what time the van was supposed to be here... What’s up with you? Where are you this morning?” he asks, his tone a little more defensive than usual. 

“Huh?” Your eyes flick back to the elevator, your heart beating a little faster than usual as the caffeine starts to swirl around in your bloodstream. You know that any second Y/N is going to step off that elevator and join the rest of you in the lobby. 

You can’t seem to shake the kiss from your mind, falling asleep last night playing it over and over in your head. The way her lips felt, soft and warm and so pink. You aren’t really sure why you decided to do it. You weren’t going to, but you’re glad you did. You’d thought of nothing else since, and after the little exchange you had after the fact, you were feeling something that you didn’t feel too often, if ever. Nervous. 

You didn’t even know what you were going to say to her today. What do you say after something like that? Should you say anything at all? You know you pushed a professional boundary last night, on the very first night no less. She is your employee, and you are her boss and those two things typically don’t mix well. But you felt something, something you haven’t felt in a long time, and you are certain she must have felt it too. 

You look back to Josh, suddenly realizing that if you’re feeling nervous, he’s going to pick up on it. You try to compose yourself, adjusting your jacket on your shoulders and your sunglasses on your nose before turning your full attention back to him. 

“Sorry, just jet lag. I think it’s supposed to be here at 10:00,” you pause, glancing at your watch. “It’s 9:56 right now.”

“Since when do you wear a fuckin’ wrist watch? Are you eighty-five?” he quips, huffing a laugh. 

You suck your teeth at him, raising a brow. “Since now, fuck you.”

He changes the subject, turning to Sam and Daniel just as the elevator chimes and the doors start to open. Your heart is beating erratically at this point, and you curse yourself for it. You should not be feeling like this. It was one kiss, Jake. It didn’t even mean anything. It was for show.

Right?

You swallow nervously, licking your lips as people start to step out of the elevator. You try to look like you’re engaged in the conversation happening in front of you, but you’re not. She won’t know that though. Your eyes are fixed on the elevator, waiting for your first glimpse of her this morning. She’s one of the very last to step out, her hair hanging in her face as she focuses on her phone. You hear Paul call her name, waving her over towards him and Wes with paperwork in hand. 

She looks up just long enough to spot them, returning her gaze to her phone to finish up whatever it is she’s doing. She steps up to them, just out of your immediate sight, but you can still hear them talking as they greet her. Out of the corner of your eye you see Paul hand her the piece of paper he was waving, telling her that the venue has the official hospitality rider, but that the highlighted items needed to be picked up and brought to the venue by her. A chill runs up your spine. What did you request? Why can’t you remember what you asked for? Fuck. 

She turns her head as Wes and Paul continue to talk. You can feel her eyes on you, burning into the side of your head as Josh drones on about German water quality. You want to look at her, in fact, you’re dying to see that same pink blush that colored her cheeks last night, but you don’t turn your head. You force yourself to pretend she isn’t even there. You stare off into the distance, letting your mind wander, the noise around you turning into a hum. 

“Jake…” Josh shouts, snapping his fingers in front of your face, “Hello? Are you braindead suddenly?”

“Fuck, sorry. What…” you growl, refocusing again. 

“Get with it man, I said the van is here. Let’s go,” he answers, nodding towards the door as he follows the rest of the crew outside. 

You walk with your hands in your pockets, letting your thumb nail glide over each fingertip in an attempt to bring you back down to earth. You need to get your head right. Snap out of it. You fall to the back of the group, waiting for everyone to load into the two black vans, ready to take you to your venue for the evening. Before you could stop yourself you were looking over your shoulder for her, catching her eyes for the briefest moment before looking away. Fuck, she’s so pretty.

“You want the window?” Josh asks, elbowing your arm. 

“Huh? Yeah that’s fine…” you answer blankly, your mind still flooded with the image of her. As you turn back to Josh you see his focus change, locking in on Y/N as she steps up to the two of you. The very last thing you expected. 

“Hi, good morning, feeling any better?” she asks. You look to her, then to Josh, remembering he sent her out for medicine last night. You're completely frozen in place as the two of them speak, and you’re sure your face is showing exactly what you’re feeling. Panic.

Josh looks at you for a second, then back to Y/N, very obviously picking up on the nerves pulsing through you as he snickers. “Yes…I…am…Thank you again for doing that last night. I appreciate it.”

You can smell her perfume as it dances through the air, the same sweet floral smell from the plane yesterday. You can’t help but to turn your head and look at her, your eyes drifting to the column of her neck where you know the smell is even stronger. You imagine the way it would feel to kiss her there. The taste of her skin. The sounds she would make. The feeling of her rapid pulse beneath your lips…

Shit. No. 

“No problem at all, Josh. Let me know if I can grab you anything else,” she smiles, “I’m off to the market!”

She looks at you for just a second waiting to see if you’re going to say anything, but you don’t, instead offering her a curt smile and nodding your head. Smooth. Really nice, Jake.  

She walks away, heading towards the second van with Wes and the rest of management and you feel a wave of relief wash through. You had a little more time to get your head right before you talked to her. You let out a breath, your eyes flicking over to Josh who is looking at you with a knowing look on his face. You shake your head and walk away, ready to load into the van with your backpack slung over your shoulder. Your heart is beating fairly hard and you haven't even spoken to her. Why is she having this effect on you?

You settle on the bench seat, Josh and Ty sliding in next to you. You place your backpack between your legs and pull your phone from your coat pocket, pretending to busy yourself to avoid the conversation you already know is coming.

The app isn’t even open yet before Josh starts to speak, “Alright let’s hear it, Jake. ”

You know there’s no use in pretending to be busy, he won’t stop until you answer him. You lock your phone and slide it back into your pocket letting out an aggravated sigh. 

“Hear what, Josh? Why do you already want to start this morning, huh? Can’t I have a moment of peace?”

“Oh please, I could feel your fucking heart pounding like it was in my own chest!” He tilts his head to the side in an attempt to force the truth out of you. He knows he's got you cornered and he wants you to admit it. 

You tilt your head mimicking him, giving him a look he knows well. You nod your head, silently telling him that you’ll talk later. Now is not the time or place for any of it.

He stares at you blankly for a second, finally relenting as he turns back towards Ty. Safe for now. You needed to figure this out, quick.

You ride to the venue, listening to everyone’s conversations but offering very little to them. You scroll through your phone, trying your best to keep to yourself, but perking your head up as Josh grabs your attention. 

“That reminds me, I talked to Paul. He said it’s going to take a week or so to get more security over here. Corri said she applied for the work visas this morning. Should have some guys over here in less than a week at the latest.”

“Good. Could’ve used someone last night,” you grumble, immediately regretting even letting the words slip from your mouth. 

Josh’s head snaps over to you, a serious look in his eyes. “What do you mean? At the airport?”

You know you can’t lie. He will know immediately. “No, um– Just after we checked in. It’s nothing.”

“Last I talked to you, you were ordering room service and going to bed?” he asks, genuinely confused. Fuck, fuck, figure it out Jake.

“Yeah, I did, just— A little thing late last night. Everything ended up being fine. Isolated incident. We’ve got more security coming, it's all good,” you say, hoping he won’t press you on it any further, but as he looks at you with a threatening scowl you know you’ll be recounting every last detail before the day is through.

—

Show days always bring along chaotic mornings that slowly mold into semi-peaceful afternoons, filled with warming your fingers up and psyching your mind up to perform. The four of you always try to keep show days generally the same, with giving yourselves a little bit of downtime before you have to arrive back at the venue after sound check. Today though, the day of the very first show, has already made your head feel like it is going to spin right off your neck. You can feel Josh’s prying eyes watching your every move, waiting for the opportune moment to jump down your throat again. 

“Gonna go grab something to drink from the green room, you guys want anything?” Sam asks you and Josh as you fumble around with the wireless mechanisms on your guitar. 

“Nah, I’ll get something in a minute,” you reply, watching as he and Danny descend the stairs off the stage and disappear out of sight. 

Of course, within seconds your twin is inches from your face, somehow making himself seem bigger than you. “Alright, you gonna tell me about this little incident last night? Or am I gonna have to force it out of you?” he presses, and you know damn well that if you don’t give him just the tiniest bit of explanation, he won’t let up. “Wouldn’t have happened to involve our new runner, would it?”

You sigh a heavy sigh, readjusting the blue-tinted glasses sitting on your nose. “Can you lay the fuck off for like two seconds? Jesus Christ…” you back away, anxiously rubbing your hand over your mouth as you try to think of what to even say. 

“Don’t avoid the question, asshole. Tell me now. While everyone’s gone,” he goes on, closing in on you again. 

You bite your cheeks in, still contemplating. You stay silent, instead strumming a single chord on your guitar in response to him. You hear it echo across the empty venue, smirking to yourself. Sounds perfect.

“Fuck you. Always doing that shit when you’re trying to avoid me. Drowning me out with your loud ass amps… alright. Fine,” Josh readjusts the hat on his head and stomps away across the stage. “If you won’t tell me, I’ll just go ask her.”

All the blood quickly drains from your body. “Okay, okay, fuck. Come here,” you hold your hand up and signal him back, because you know for a fact he actually would have gone and found her. You stretch the muscles in your neck, rolling your shoulder beneath your guitar strap. 

“Y/N went out to a pub last night to get something to eat and have a drink, there was some creep there trying to take her home, wouldn’t let up. She didn’t tell Dean where she was going because it was so late, and she remembered I had… She had my number, so she asked me to come and walk her back to the hotel. That’s it.”

Josh eyes you with his lips pursed closed, trying to get a read if there was anything you were leaving out. He’s gonna know, of course he’s gonna know…

“...That’s it?”

“That’s it,” you concede. “It happened really fast and the place was just around the corner from the hotel. I made it there in like two minutes. Guy was being a complete asshole to her,” you shake your head in disgust at the memory. 

Josh crosses his arms across his chest as he exhales, squinting his eyes. “Mmh, so you played hero, huh? I think there’s more to the story than your little rescue mission… but. So she just happened to have your phone number, and no one else’s? Like Paul’s perhaps?” You really need him to quit with the attitude. 

“We sat together on the plane for like, a hundred hours, Josh. Yes. She has my phone number because we were talking about her job duties. She will get the rest of yours eventually, I’m sure. I was just first. Fuck…” you begin to wave him off as you start to feel overwhelmed with his twenty questions. 

Luckily, Sam and Danny are coming back onto the stage now, the pounding of Danny’s repetitive kick drum drowning out the sound of Josh’s persistence. 

Josh’s eyes are squinting at you again as he takes the microphone in his right hand, turning away from it just enough for you to hear him. “I’ll get to the bottom of this. As a wise man once said, it’s very interesting…”

—

HER POV

Your legs carry you quickly through the winding halls to the green room. You can barely see over the brown paper bags in your hands, loaded full to the top with the items on your list this morning. It was a little more difficult of a task than you anticipated, but the translator app on your phone proved to be your best friend. You knew you had to be quick and you did your best, hoping that the items you found would suffice. 

You push the door open with your foot, looking for the empty table where the items needed to be set up. You saw a few things that the venue provided sitting on a mostly empty wooden table, and knew that’s where you needed to set up. You plop the heavy paper bags down, smiling as you notice a few drinks have already been scavenged. 

You begin pulling things from the bags, setting up the fruit and vegetable trays, and starting to place a variety of drinks into an ice bucket. You pull the paper list from your back pocket, making sure you have everything out for each guy and that you didn’t miss anything in your hurried state. As you make your way down the list you hear the door swing open and a rumble of voices enter the room. 

You turn to find Josh stepping into the room with Jake flanking him as they talk. Your breath instantly catches in your chest as you make eye contact with Jake through his tinted sunglasses. His hair is a little more wavy today, curling up at the ends and resting just below his shoulders. It looks soft and you know it probably smells good as it flies through the air as he walks. His black button up is hanging loosely on his body, a sliver of his chest visible, but you tear your eyes away from him and turn back to your task. You’re at work. 

“There she is! How’s it going, Y/N? Things goin’ your way this morning?” Josh asks, walking over towards you with a smile. 

It strikes you as strange, his over friendly greeting, especially when you’d talked more to Jake than to him and Jake hadn’t even said hello to you today. You shake off the feeling and return the sentiment, turning to face the both of them. 

“Hi guys! Everything is good I think! Just getting all of this set up for you, sorry it took me so long. I was struggling with the German labels,” you smile, letting your eyes flick over to Jake. He’s standing quietly behind Josh, not saying much but listening intently, eyes locked in on you. 

“Oh, no you’re fine, no rush at all. We’ve got hours until we go on,” he pauses, turning to Jake then back to you. “I heard about the little incident at the bar last night. Glad everything turned out okay for you, but just wanted you to know we’ve got some more security coming this week. Should have someone that can head out with you from now on,” Josh finishes, nodding his head. His phone starts to ring before you can respond and he quickly pulls it from his pocket, glancing down at the screen with a sly smile.

“Ahh, it’s Ty, I gotta take this. I’ll be back. Thanks for this, Y/N. Looks great!” he says, swiping a water bottle from the table and making his way out of the room as he answers the call. 

You realize quickly that Jake did not follow him and is standing with his hands in his pockets eyeing the table behind you. Your mouth feels dry, any words you thought you would say suddenly stuck in your throat. You turn around and busy your hands trying to think of anything you can say that won’t sound stupid. 

Your heart is pounding rapidly as you feel him moving towards you, taking the place next to you as he taps his fingers across the wooden table. He doesn’t say anything, but you can tell he is struggling in the same way you are. The tension between you is almost tangible.

You reach into the paper bag, pulling the box of beers from the bottom and setting them on the table. You knew this had to be his request, the rider stating that a case of local craft beer was required. 

You push the box in front of him, looking at him as it slides across the table. “This was what was recommended for local beer. Was the best I could find, I didn’t know if you liked light beer or dark beer, so I guessed. The cashier couldn’t have been a day over nineteen, so I didn’t exactly trust his opinion, but–” 

You watch his face shift into a smile, a dimple popping out on his cheek as he nods through a laugh, “This looks great, really.”

“Again, I couldn’t read anything in German, and the translator was really no help on this one,” you smile, feeling the tension between you starting to melt away. 

He opens the box, pulling out the amber colored bottle and bringing it close to his face. He looks at it for a few seconds, attempting to read the label himself before finally shrugging his shoulders. “No clue what that says, but looks perfect. Thank you, Y/N.”

You feel yourself blushing at the sound of your name leaving his lips, and you hope he can’t see the heat spreading across your cheeks. He picks up the bottle and places the lid on the edge of the table, hitting it with his fist with just enough pressure to pop off the lid. It skitters across the table as he brings the bottle to his lips, taking a long pull of what you now see is a light beer. 

“S’perfect,” he says, swallowing it down.. “You uh, you wanna try it?”

You feel a flash of panic wash over you. You can’t, right?

“I don’t think I can? Right? I’m at work. And I have like a thousand things to do,” you stammer, dying to say yes. 

“S’just me, I won’t tell if you don’t,” he offers, peering at you above the frames of his sunglasses. You can see his brown eyes staring into yours, and you feel your insides melting into putty. You know you need to change the subject, and quick. 

You quickly decide to decline the beer, knowing that you need every single ounce of clearheadedness for the evening you are about to endure. “Are you guys done already? That seemed… quick,” you pose, trying to turn your attention back to your duties to fill the awkward silence. 

“Uh no, not quite, they’re just working with Josh right now,” he answers, stuffing his free hand in his pocket and taking another swig of his beer. 

“Ah,” you reply, slotting a strand of hair behind your ear as the awkwardness continues to grow. You know he’s just being nice, but you wished to god he would just go somewhere else to save you both the anxiety of acknowledging the elephant in the room. Alright. Get it together, Y/N. You’re both adults, just speak your piece and get it over with. You take a quick breath, preparing yourself. “So, what version of the story did Josh get?”

Jake nearly spits out his beer as your words hit him. “What? What story?” he asks, wiping the dribble of beer off his chin. 

“I know you told him about last night, he’s being so overly nice to me it almost seems fake. He’s buttering me up, isn’t he?” you say, a bit of bite in your tone. Truly, you wonder exactly what Jake told him, and if it was the same story you remember.

Jake sucks his teeth as he looks away from you. “A very condensed one. Don’t worry.” His words are blunt and pointed. 

“Okay… so he doesn’t know about… ya know…” you dance around the word, you don’t even dare even say it. 

“No,” he cuts you off. “No. I didn’t go into that much detail. It… it didn’t even matter anyway, right?”

…It didn’t matter? 

It didn’t matter. Oh. 

“Right. No. Didn’t matter at all,” you agree, feeling the knife turning in your chest. “We had to do what we had to do to get out of there.”

“Yeah, was nothing.”

Nothing?

It’s quiet and awkward again as you try to brush off your feelings, suppressing the memory of the feeling of his lips on yours, his hands on your waist, his body pressing up against yours…

You’ve kissed a lot of people in your life, and you’re mature enough to know the difference between when someone wants to kiss you, and when someone just…is kissing you. And though you hate to admit it to yourself, Jake wanted to kiss you. There was no doubt about it. Chemistry is tangible. And the tension that formed between you last night during those few short seconds was nothing short of it. Pure chemistry. Ease. Like it was natural. And you weren’t too dumb to realize it.

But… apparently he was. 

Suddenly you hear the sound of the bass strumming out into the air, signaling that it was time to get things going again. 

“Right. But uh, sounds like I gotta um, get back out there. So… thanks for um, thanks for the beers,” Jake backpedals and turns away toward the door as you return to your duties, busying your mind and hands again. Fuck, that couldn’t have gone any worse. 

You watch as he slams his body into the metal exit door, but stopping short when it doesn’t budge. He pushes on it again, but it stands firm. You watch him struggle for just a few seconds before you decide to help him out. 

“Pull, Jake,” you say, stifling a laugh. 

He yanks on the handle, the door flying open before him. “Oh, yeah. Got it.”

You can see the pink rise to his cheeks as he makes his quick exit, and the laugh you were stifling finally busts through. You’d managed to get Jake Kiszka flustered. 

The sounds of the whole band echo down the hall, and you know you have a few free minutes to yourself, without the risk of one of them barging in again. Your mind drifts into autopilot as you finish setting up, replaying the last few minutes over and over in your head. 

1. Josh knows. Well, Josh knows something.

2. The kiss… apparently it didn’t mean anything to Jake. Just a careless action to get the weird man off your back. Of course it didn’t mean anything to him. He’s a famous rock star, he probably kisses girls all the time… right? And makes playlists for them. And adds his favorite songs to them just so they can listen along. And tells them that he fully intends to kiss them again. Right?

3. He was flustered leaving through that door just now. He fumbled. He blushed. People that don’t care don’t blush. That’s just basic science. 

Everything is overwhelming your thoughts; you need assistance, and you need it now. You take one last look at the table in front of you, deciding that it is to your liking before dashing out the door to the back exit. You pull your phone from your pocket and bring up Ruth’s contact, hearing it ring out just a couple of times before her voice is yelling your name on the other end. 

“Shit, about time! I’ve been fucking dying over here!” she shouts into your ear, her voice full of excitement and rush. “I’ve been scrolling their instagrams and TikToks and shit all. Fucking. Day, Y/N. When were you gonna tell me they’re all hot as fuck, huh? And they’re brothers?! Like real life brothers, except the one, right? But they were kids when they met?! Why is that so cute? Imagine having that much talent in one household. Shit, in one town! I bet their parents were exhausted like, always. And their MUSIC… hello? The guitarist is mindblowing, dude. And you kissed that man? On the lips?! Like full on contact, right? Was there tongue? Did he get into it? Where were you? I need to know all of these things in massive detail stat, bitch.” Ruth is absolutely rambling, and you know if you don’t cut her off soon, you will never get a chance to speak at all. 

“Yes, Ruthie, I kissed the hot guitarist,” you confirm quietly, glancing around to be sure you’re alone. “No, not really any tongue. We were in a restaurant, and the vibe was kinda strange, so. It didn’t last long, but god, it was hot…” you trail off, reminiscing for just a second. You’re truly unable to get the feeling of his lips out of your head. “Yes, three brothers, two twins, one honorary brother that might as well be. I haven’t gotten a chance to truly get to know them all yet, so my details are skimpy. But listen, I’m trying to stay professional, okay–”

“Hun, if you’re lip-locking with that brown-eyed man on the first day you are wayyyyyyy past professional, I’m just saying,” she wails into a condescending laugh. 

“No I’m fucking not!” you yell back, fully prepared to tell her exactly why it was warranted. “Listen, here’s what happened…” you do as she says, and go into grave detail about the events on the plane, and in the restaurant, and the sweet additions to the playlist when you got back to your hotel room. You spared no detail because if Ruth is good at anything, it’s collecting specifics and cataloging them away, only to one day effortlessly put them all together into one big beautiful puzzle laid out for you on a shining silver platter. She has a knack for thinking of things realistically rather than living in a fairy tale, and you’re thankful for it. She keeps your sometimes wandering thoughts in check. 

“Shit, babe… what are you gonna do?” her voice was calmed now that you’ve caught her up. 

“I don’t know, everything is just… happening really fast.” The early evening breeze blows your hair, and you can hear the distant chatter of their fans lined up and camping just around the corner of the building. It’s almost showtime. 

“I know what’s gonna happen,” Ruth states matter of factly. “He’s gonna add another song soon, you watch.”

“You think? He left things kind of… awkward just now, I really don’t think that he meant what he said last night, he was just caught up in–”

“Y/N, he wouldn’t say he fully intends to kiss you after you tell him to Do It Again… men lie but that seems… I dunno…” she goes on. “Just, don’t make me wait so long between now and the next thing, okay? I know you’re busy kicking ass but please keep me informed…” she begs. 

“I will babe. I actually think it’s time for me to go. I promise I will text you tonight, okay?”

“I’ll be staring at my phone. Good luck,” she replies, and you end the call with a quiet goodbye. 

—

You take special care wrapping the steaming hot tea bag around the spoon, squeezing out the water before tossing it in the trash. Your eyes scan the table for the Whiskey, pouring in a shot or so to mix with the honey at the bottom. Josh’s instructions were very clear and you have made sure to follow them exactly, not wanting to miss a single step. You stir up the boiling hot drink and push it to the side, ready to start on Danny’s. You grab the metal cup and add a scoop of ice, your eyes searching for the bottle of Tequila. 

You feel your phone buzz in your back pocket as you pour the tequila into the cup, topping it off with soda water. You pull your phone out as you wait for the fizz to subside, but the sight on the screen steals away your focus. 

‘Jake Added A Song to Your Shared Playlist: 🐥’

Oh my god Ruth was right.

You quickly swipe open the notification with shaking hands, waiting as the shitty venue wi-fi tries to load the playlist. Isn’t he getting dressed right now? Isn’t he busy? Why is he doing this?

It finally loads and you scroll to the bottom, laughing to yourself as you see the song he added two minutes ago, ‘Back In Black’ by AC/DC. You know the song well, but much like you did last night, you search your mind for what he is trying to say. You think on the lyrics, nothing really sticking out to you in regards to the situation the two of you have found yourself in, but you press play anyway, listening to the familiar and catchy intro. It has to mean something, right? You nod your head along with the song as you finish making everyone’s drinks, blushing to yourself as you realize that he was thinking about you. 

Should you reply? Is there even a response to that? You don’t even really know what he is trying to say. You pick up your phone from the table and begin to search through your favorites, seeing if there is anything that could serve as a worthwhile reply but you’re quickly interrupted by the door being flung open and Paul grabbing your attention. 

“Two minutes ‘til stage, guys are walking,” he says, and just like that he disappears again. 

You shove your phone in your pocket and snatch up all the drinks, quickly following after him with your armful of drinks. Your heart starts to race, you can feel the adrenaline filling the building, the ground is rumbling with the sound of the intro music and the screams of anxious fans. 

You position yourself at the base of the stairs, knowing they will grab their drinks from you as they make their way onto the stage. The chaos and commotion backstage is overwhelming, and you find yourself starting to pick up on the nervous, frazzled energy. Sam is the first to spot you with an eager grin, plucking the grapefruit Topo Chico from your hand as he scurries across the stage to place it on his amp. Daniel is not far behind him, drumsticks in hand as he approaches you with a shy smile.

“One of those for me?” he asks playfully, reaching for his metal cup. 

“All yours! Have a good show!” you answer, watching him walk up the stairs and towards his kit. 

The lights are starting to dim, the music growing louder as the time draws closer. You don’t see Josh, or Jake for that matter, and you find it a little strange that there was no drink request for Jake, but you chalk it up to him likely not having time to drink much during the show. Suddenly Josh appears from the hallway, a vision in white satin, looking almost ethereal. He is frantically putting in his in-ears, and reaching for his mic, eyes locking on you as you hold out his tea towards him.

“Ahh, excellent, thank you so much, let’s have a good show, yeah?” he smiles, squeezing your shoulder as he bounds up the stairs to place his drink on Danny’s platform. You’re so caught up in watching Josh float around the stage in a cloud of white chiffon and crystals that you don’t notice that Jake is walking towards you. 

When you do turn around you find him only a few feet away, the stage lights catching the black beads of his suit coat, sparkling like onyx. The satin suit is fit to his body, leaving very little to the imagination. His jacket is open, his chest bare save for a few silver necklaces he seems to always be wearing. This is the most of him you’d seen at this point, and the definition of his chest and the lingering tan on his skin has you breaking out into a cold sweat. You swallow harshly as you see the eyeliner he has added to his waterline, and you feel yourself physically backing up to brace yourself on the stair rail behind you. Holy shit.

You find yourself wishing you had a drink for him, anything actually, just to have an excuse to talk to him. His guitar tech meets him as he walks, twisting the knob on his wireless receiver and handing Jake the vintage red Gibson. He tosses the strap over his shoulder, positioning it across his body and releasing his hair from beneath the strap. You watch him as he mouths a muffled ‘thank you’ to Johnny, giving him a grateful smile as he continues to walk.  

The stage lights behind you have shifted, and the music is coming to a close. He has to be on stage in seconds but it’s as if he is on his own time, moving so effortlessly through the dimly lit wing. The lights hit him just right and his eyes meet yours in a smug grin. Suddenly the song makes sense. His suit is completely custom, hand beaded, all black satin. Fucking hell, the cockiness of this man.

You expect him to climb the stairs to meet his brothers, but instead he steps up to you, resting his hand on the body of his guitar. “Nothing for me?” he asks, arching a brow and flashing you a sideways smile. 

“The– the list! There wasn’t anything on the list for you, I–”

The lights overhead are starting to flash, the crew calling for thirty seconds through the walkie-talkies. You glance around panicked that you clearly missed the memo on a drink for Jake. Fuck!

He smiles at you as he laughs, “I’m just kidding, I don’t put it on the list with theirs. I bring my own.”

“Well where is it?!” you ask, a hint of panic in your voice.

“Ah, I left it in the greenroom. Was a bit…busy with something else,” he says, trying to stifle a smile.

You can barely hear him, doing your best to read his lips over the shrill screaming coming from the crowd. He seems to sense this, leaning towards you and placing his hand on your shoulder. His lips brush against your ear as his fingertips press into your skin. You can feel his guitar pressed against your stomach, his fingers guarding the strings, “Do you know where my backpack is?” he asks, whispering into your ear. 

You shake your head, and truth be told the proximity of this man’s mouth to your body has you unable to even remember your own name, let alone where his backpack is. 

His fingers tap your shoulder as he holds it, pulling away his head just slightly to look at you. He licks his lips and leans back in, “It’s in the corner of the dressing room, by the couch. Go find it for me? My drink is in there.”

“Jake, stage left go,” the walkie calls out, and he pulls away again, giving you a smug smile.

You look at him, taking him in completely before he steps onto the stage. “Wait, Jake! Your in-ears! Where are your monitors?!” you shout in a panic.

He smiles and laughs as his hand squeezes your bicep, tilting his head down a little and letting his eyes peer into yours, “I don’t wear in-ears, baby.” 

He pulls away quickly, sprinting up the steps, looking over his shoulder at you one last time before disappearing out of view. Baby? Did he just call you baby? Your heart is pounding in your chest as you try to catch your breath. You feel frozen in place, only spinning your body enough to watch the four of them take their places on the platform at the back of the stage. Jake is on the very end, running a hand through his hair, just as the music stops and the curtain falls in front of them. The crowd screams violently as Josh starts to speak, nodding to Jake to kick things off. 

Danny jumps down off the platform and onto his kit, as Sam prances down the steps with his bass. The guitar sounds fill the venue as Jake starts to make his way down the shiny metallic steps. His eyes flick over to the side stage, catching yours for a moment as a smile lights up his face. You are in complete shock, surely this is not the man you kissed last night. The man that was stumbling over his words today, and pushing a pull door…? 

His hand lifts from the guitar for just a second as he motions a signal for ‘drink’ to you as if he’s holding an invisible cup to his lips. You quickly snap out of it when you remember his instructions. You tear yourself away, making your way back to the green room in search of his backpack. The room is quiet when you enter, empty, not a soul in sight. You can hear the rumble of the bass in your chest as your eyes scan the room for the black leather backpack, finally spotting it behind the couch. 

You walk over to it, crouching down in front of it and lifting the flap. You unzip the top finding it full to the brim. Your hands are shaking as you carefully sift through his things. His phone is on the very top of the pile, a black leather case with an embossed ‘JTK’ on the bottom right corner. Your heart flutters in your chest knowing that he adds the songs to your playlist from this very phone. You toss it aside, continuing to look through the bag, your fingers snagging on his tangled pile of headphones. You work quickly to untangle them, wrapping the cord around itself in a neat coil before dropping them back into the bag. Your hands find a change of clothes, a pair of black pants and a white t-shirt nestled under a pair of printed black boxers. Your breath catches as you realize what you’re touching but you try not to think too much of it. Find his drink. 

Your hands feel around at the very bottom of the bag, finding dozens of guitar picks, a capo, a few hair ties, what feels like maybe his wallet, a glasses case, and a passport book. Your fingers land on something glass, and you pull it from the bag, but quickly find out it’s not what you’re looking for. This is a bottle of cologne, fairly expensive from the looks of it. You look around the room before pulling off the small silver cap, and breathing in the scent you remember from last night. Fuck it smells so good. 

Put it away, Y/N. 

You push everything over to the other side of the bag, finally spotting what you were looking for front and center. You grab the neck of the wine bottle, pulling out the entirely full bottle of Sauvignon Blanc. Interesting choice for him, but you guess you don’t really know too much about him just yet.

You quickly zip up his bag and rush over to the drink table, grabbing the metal chalice and filling it to the brim with his white wine. It sloshes over the edge a bit as you rush back out to the stage, doing your very best not to spill it in its entirety before it even makes it to him. 

You’re positively out of breath by the time you make it to the stairs, your hand dripping with the sticky wine as you watch Jake just stepping into a guitar solo. He walks across the front of the stage engaging with the crowd on the barricade, his fingers moving faster than lightning through a song you can honestly say you’ve never heard. You know you will get to know these songs very well over the next few months, and what better way to hear them than live. 

You peek around the curtain as you watch him crouch down, standing quickly to throw his head back, the faint echo of his voice as he yells to his guitar drifting to the side stage. His body is covered in sweat and his hair sticks to his neck as he catches sight of you with his drink. You hear a few people talking behind you but you can’t seem to care, or rip your eyes away from him. He is a completely different person on stage than the man you sat next to on the plane, and even in the bar last night, and to be quite honest, you didn’t know which version of him you wanted more. 

JAKE POV

The spotlight descends away from you as you finish out your solo, the crowd already going absolutely wild. It feels so good to be back here again, allowing yourself to get immersed in the feeling of the instrument in your hands and the effect it has on the people listening and watching. Sweat is already pouring from your face and chest, and you’re only three songs in. For a second, you’d completely forgotten that you’d sent Y/N on a mission for your drink. 

You hope she’s finding it, given you had kind of hidden the backpack behind a couch to stay out of plain sight. In the back of your mind, you quickly picture her picking through the bag stuffed with your things, and you smirk when you realize she probably is seeing a bit more into your personal life than she had anticipated, tonight. But for some reason, you don’t feel embarrassed by it. 

You back up toward your amps as Josh continues to sing, and you see her from the corner of your eye, standing side-stage with your chalice in hand. Oh, so she’s a good listener. Noted. 

Now that you aren’t at the center of attention, you realize you are a bit thirsty. The four of you finish out the song and the lights go down, and you take the opportunity to run to her to grab your drink. 

You haphazardly grab it as she hands it to you with utmost caution, handling it as if it were made of gold. 

“Shit!” You can’t help but laugh out loud, noticing that the rather large cup is filled all the way to the brim with your wine. You take a big gulp down to empty it a little. 

“Sorry, sorry careful, I didn’t know how much you wanted and I assumed you wouldn’t want refills!” she crams all her words together into one big sentence as you chuckle at her again. Damn, even in the dim lighting you can see how pretty she is. Your heart literally skips a beat as she finally meets your eyes. 

“S’okay, this is perfect. Thank you…” you whisper as you place a quick hand onto her waist, backing yourself away from her. Should you have touched her there? Maybe not, but it just happened. You make your way back over to set the cup down safely in a place you know it won’t spill. You make quick eye contact with Danny as he waits for you to cue him in to the next one, but his look is laced with something else, curiosity. He definitely saw your encounter. And he knows that you normally don’t place your hand ever-so-gently on your runner’s waists. Fuck fuck fuck. 

You return his prying eyes with an upturned chin, silently telling him to mind his own business. You finish out the show, feeling good again as you begin to show off just a little. You always show off, but for some reason, this time feels more important. You have someone to show off for. 

You glance to the side stage again and see that Y/N is standing with Ty, Mia, and Lyla as they watch the show. That feels strange, you think to yourself, seeing her grouped together with all your brothers’ significant others, getting along and talking closely. Your stomach churns at the thought of actually liking it. 

No, Jake. No. You know this isn’t right.

Twenty minutes later you find yourself waving goodbye to what was one hell of a crowd, and you join the other three as you descend the stairs to backstage. Your ears are ringing as you walk through the darkness toward the light of the hallway, realizing that she is the first person you see when you finally get there. She’s standing with Paul, listening to his instructions as she hands each of you a clean black towel. You’re last in line, and you grin a little as she tosses your towel to you instead of the gentle handoff she did for your brothers. 

The tiniest smile crosses her face as she keeps intent eye contact with Paul, taking in all of his words when you know her mind is racing with thoughts of you. Her face blushes with pink as you pass her. That wasn’t unnoticed, babe. 

You rush back to the green room to try and beat Danny to the shower, knowing that he is probably already stripped down and getting inside. When you find your prediction to be true, you decide to take off your jacket and kick back on the black leather couch to finish off your heavy-handed pour of wine. 

“You guys wanna go to this bar I found?” Josh proposes. 

“Bit dangerous right after a show, don’t you think?” Sam chimes as he hangs his satin jacket on the rolling rack. 

“This one is like, 6 blocks away and kind of hidden. Probably won’t be anyone there, I did some research.  Plus they have Fernet Branca. I need a few shots to keep this fuckin’ cold at bay,” Josh explains as Ty starts to help him remove the rhinestones from his face. 

“Bleugh, I don’t see how you drink that nasty shit,” Sam says with disgust. 

Josh scoffs at him. “Might be nasty, but it fucking works!”

You lean over the arm of the couch and retrieve your backpack, sifting through to find your clean change of clothes. You smile as you realize she more than likely saw your black boxers covered in flamingos. As you zip the bag back up, you notice your earbuds sitting at the bottom of the bag. They had been rolled into a perfect flat coil, with the wire tucked and tied into itself. Your heart sinks when you realize she had taken the time to sort them for you, probably remembering the mess of tangled wires on the plane. 

Should you add a song? 

No. You did already. Get it together. This woman has your mind running marathons. 

But a bar as a distraction? Perfect. 

“Yeah, let’s go check it out. I’m getting a shower,” you make the executive decision as you stand from the couch, slapping Danny’s towel-covered ass as you pass him on your way to the bathroom. 

——

“Jake, you comin’ or what?” Sam asks, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. 

“Yeah, give me a sec,” you answer, pretending to fumble through your backpack. He nods and heads out the door with Lyla, leaving you alone in the greenroom. 

You haven't seen Y/N since you came off the stage, panting, filled with adrenaline, and in desperate need of a towel. You showered quickly and changed into your clothes, hoping you wouldn’t miss her coming into the green room. You were going to ask her to join you at the bar, and you were hoping she would say yes. Though, you haven’t seen her, and now thirty minutes have passed and the van is leaving. You consider sending her a text, but remember there was no response to your last song. It had been your feeble attempt to lighten the tension from earlier in the day, so you figure you should let it be. Tonight was probably crazy for her, and you want her to ride the post show high as long as she can. 

You throw your backpack over your shoulder and make the trek to the van, finding everyone rearing and ready to hit the bar. A drink does sound good, a stiff one. You slam the door shut and let out a sigh, feeling the van pull out of the gates and into traffic. You see a few fans lined up against the fence hoping to catch a peek at the four of you, so you all wave through the window praying they won’t follow you. 

You kick yourself for being this caught up over a woman you met only yesterday. This was not supposed to happen. You wanted to clear your head, not screw it up even more. You took in a deep breath, letting it pass through your lips as the van rounded the corner and came to a stop in front of the bar. You couldn’t read the name of the bar, something foreign in burned out neon, but Josh seemed to know that you were at the right place. You all stepped out of the van, making your way into the decently crowded bar. You were thankful that no one seemed to notice you, the group of you making your way to the back of the bar and piling into a round wooden booth. 

Josh volunteers to grab the first round, and you signal to him for your usual, not needing to say a word for him to understand. Lyla and Mia instantly strike up a conversation about the show, Sam and Daniel hanging on their every word. You listen to what they’re saying, pretending to be engaged in the conversation, but your mind wanders quickly. The exhaustion of your body is starting to set in, mixed with the already present jet lag, you feel yourself spiraling quickly. You know that drink will bring you back to life though, and you hope Josh hurries. 

You wonder where Y/N is. What she is doing. What she thought of the show. If she felt that same electricity you did when you touched her. You quickly shake your head of the thoughts, returning to the present when Josh sets your drink down in front of you. 

He and Ty slide in next to you as the rest of the group starts to sip on their own drinks. You straighten in your seat, trying to give everyone a little more space as Josh starts to speak. 

“Hell of a kick off…” 

“Yeah, no fuck ups either,” Sam adds, elbowing Danny. 

“Jake? Notes?” Josh nods, waiting for you to add your two cents.

“Yeah, yeah I think it was a good show, need to keep that energy for the rest of the run. Think that transition from Heat Above to Highway could be a little tighter if we’re gonna keep that on the set, but–” 

“You seemed especially talkative tonight, thought I was gonna have to turn my monitors up to drown out your screaming,” Josh jokes. You cut your eyes at him in annoyance. It’s not like you could help it. 

“Only screaming to drown out the sound of your voice, brother,” you quip, taking a sip of your drink. Tequila soda, extra lime.

“Please, I think you were just having a little Jake moment because of a certain someo–”

“Fuck off, Josh, seriously,” you spit. 

“Oh, who, the runner? Y/N?” Danny asks, turning to face you with a shit eating grin. 

“Yep.” Josh answers, popping the ‘p’.

You send a threatening look to Josh, and he knows he needs to drop it. “I don’t know what you’re all on and on about. Can you just drop it? Christ.”

“You sure man? I saw that little exchange side stage. Looked more than friendly,” Danny adds, and of course you knew it was coming. 

Lyla sends you a questioning look, and you quickly look away before she has time to examine things any further. Her gaze travels to Mia, the two of them looking at each other before turning back to you. 

“Anyway, Daniel…you and Sam need to watch my cue for Highway, I’ll let Josh do his little spiel, he’ll signal me, and I’ll signal you. I don’t think anyone noticed tonight, but let's not do that again, yeah?”

Everyone nods in agreement as you toss back the rest of your drink in frustration. You motion for Josh and Ty to let you out, desperate to get out of this booth and get another drink. You make your way to the bar, standing amongst the other patrons waiting their turn. You pull your phone from your pocket, hoping to see something, anything from her, but it's empty, the same as it was ten minutes ago. Should you text her?

No. Stop thinking about her, fuck. 

You order a new drink, a double this time, hoping it will help you clear your head of this woman. You weave through the crowd with your drink in hand as you make your way back to the table, however when it comes into sight you see none other than Paul, Wes and Y/N standing in front of it. 

You take a large sip from your glass, clearing your throat and trying to regain your composure. You definitely weren’t expecting her to show up. A wave of nerves washes over you as you see her standing there, dark jeans and a black top, her hair hanging down her back in waves. Your eyes travel straight back to her ass, hugged so perfectly in her jeans you almost have to head to the bathroom to fix yourself. You drag your eyes back up towards the table, your chest growing warm as you watch her talk to Josh, secretly wishing it was you. 

You approach the group, laying a hand on Paul's shoulder to get his attention. He turns to you and shakes your hand with a smile, followed by Wes. You slide into the booth next to Mia, setting your drink in front of you as Josh continues to talk to Y/N. 

“Y/N, why don’t you hang with us? We’re more fun than these old guys,” Josh laughs, playfully slapping Paul’s arm. 

She turns to look at Paul who is shrugging his shoulders and nodding, “Wouldn’t hurt to get to know these fools.”

You can see a look of hesitation on her face, her eyes flick to Josh and Sam, then to Daniel and finally to you. They linger for a second before she nods her head, agreeing to spend her evening with the group of you. She takes a seat next to Ty as he pushes Josh over to make room for her. You smile a little watching her get settled, pushing her hair behind her ear as she nervously peers up at you from across the table. The corner of your lip turns up as you look at her, and hers does the same. You know that all eyes are on you now, though, so you try to seem as casual as possible. 

“You need a drink?” you ask, letting your eyes meet hers, almost sparkling in the bar lighting. So fucking pretty, fuck. You are so, so fucked.  

She shrugs and nods, looking around at what everyone else is drinking as she bites her lips. “How about a Tito’s and Sprite, two limes?” she asks, almost as if nervous to say it.

You nod your head once, silently commending her for not ordering a fucking cranberry vodka. 

“Got it, anyone else?” you ask, looking at the group as they shake their heads. 

“I’ll be back,” you say, standing from the booth and making your way back to the bar you just came from. You don’t have to wait long this time, ordering her drink and making sure they don’t skip on the limes. You’re kind of glad you are the one getting her drink, giving you another minute or two to shake the nerves in your system that arose just from seeing her. 

You glance over your shoulder towards the booth, watching as she talks animatedly with everyone at the table. You feel a little twinge of happiness as you look at her, seeing her fit in so effortlessly with the group. You grab the glass off the bartop and start to make your way back over to them, weaving through a thick crowd of people congregating in the middle of the bar. 

You place her drink in front of her before taking your seat again, her cheeks blushed pink as she looks at you. “Just let me know how much and I can venmo whoever.”

“Oh, no, don’t worry about it. I got it,” you answer, giving her a tight lipped smile. 

“I was just telling Y/N that I’m gonna have to fire Mia and hire her to start making me drinks from now on. Your wine glass was practically overflowing all night,” he laughs as Mia scoffs. He tosses his arm around her, kissing her cheek as he whispers in her ear. 

“To be fair, I did drink it all,” you offer, tipping your head towards her. Her cheeks are red, and you can tell she’s a little embarrassed about the whole thing. She sips at her drink, swallowing down the bubbly alcohol. You can see her tension ease a little as she puts down the glass, her eyes meeting yours again. The moment is quickly zapped as Josh grabs her attention. 

“You know, I did happen to look over and see you a few times. Seemed like you were enjoying the show,” Josh pauses, smiling at her, “Thought I was going to have to come pick your jaw up off the ground after The Archer.”

Her face blushes a deep red now, clearly embarrassed that Josh caught her in what she thought was a private moment. Part of you wants to jump over the table and choke him, but you don’t, just clearing your throat instead to warn him. Y/N sips her drink a little faster now through a laugh, clearly needing it to kick in a little quicker. 

She was really watching you? 

“Yeah, you were kinda on one tonight, weren’t you Jake?” Daniel adds, chewing the end of the straw in his drink. “They were crazy over on your side. You were givin’ it to ‘em.”

“S’that why you were showing out tonight? Trying to impress all your little fans?” Sam adds, quirking an eyebrow at you. 

Josh scoffs a laugh and raises his eyebrows, looking over to Y/N, “Oh, I’m thinking it was someone else entirely, Sammy boy.”

Instinctively your foot connects with his leg as you kick him in an effort to shut him up. Your eyes flick over to Y/N, clearly uncomfortable and deeply embarrassed, on her first night no less. Her eyes start to flick around the table as everyone looks at her, before falling down to the table as she runs her finger around the rim of her glass. 

“Don’t listen to them, Y/N,” Mia jumps in. “They spend 50% of their time bagging on each other and the other 50% trying to embarrass us.” Her act of heroism obviously makes Y/N feel a little more comfortable, and you realize that sometimes you and your brothers truly have no filters at all. “Just tell them to fuck off.” She adds a wave of her hand through the air, showing that she was used to it, now. 

“Oh shit, heard about your little situation at the bar last night, Y/N. Heard there was some trouble,” Sam says, leaning into the table as the volume of the crowd starts to drown him out. “Glad Jake was able to come to your rescue.” God damnit, do they ever shut up?

“Oh yeah, Y/N you can always call Dean and tell him where you’re going so you don’t have to deal with Jake if you need something. I’m sure Dean is a lot more pleasant than Jake is at midnight, anyway,” Josh barks, sending another shooting wave of annoyance through your chest. Little did he know that you were perfectly fucking pleasant with her at midnight last night. More than pleasant, actually. 

“I’ll remember that next time, Josh,” she replies, a little sound of defeat in her voice.

You know what Josh’s next move is going to be, he’s going to start prying her with questions of what exactly happened. He knows you gave him the condensed version, and knowing him, he’s bound and determined to get the truth out of one of you. So you decide to stop him before he starts. 

“Yeah, it wasn’t a big deal, I had just downed a drink before she texted, I hardly remember telling the guy to fuck off. We can just pretend the whole thing never even happened, right Y/N?” you propose, immediately regretting the words as soon as they slipped from your mouth. You didn’t want to pretend it never happened. You’ve relived it over and over and over since it did…

Her face falls a bit as she nods her head. “Yeah, no. Never even happened. I’ll…remember not to bother you next time. Knee-jerk reaction.” Her voice is a bit pointed as she tries to defend herself without being too bitchy about it. You watch as she bites the insides of her cheeks, probably wanting to lash out at all of you. She felt threatened by that guy, and she called for help. You feel like shit, she texted you because she was panicked, and was most familiar with you… hell, you’d just spent an entire day on the plane together. She probably doesn’t even have Dean’s number yet…shit. Your choice of words had bitten you in the ass yet again. You’ve definitely fucked up. 

But the guys absolutely can not know that you kissed her…

The conversation thankfully takes a turn and you’re able to disassociate from it for a minute, watching as she struggles to stay involved, while also completely avoiding eye contact with you. Yeah, definitely fucked up. 

She finishes the rest of her drink and slides out from the booth, excusing herself to the restroom. She flips her hair behind her shoulder and tosses her purse over it too, and you find yourself wishing that you could reach out and grab her hand to stop her. Her eyes stay fixed to the floor as she flits away into the crowd, completely disappearing from your view. 

The minutes pass by as you flow in and out of the conversations, your subconscious reminding you every so often that she isn’t back yet. Your eyes repeatedly scan the crowd and over to Paul and Wes, and each time you find them still seated alone at the bar. Where did she really go? 

You start to get anxious as you finally decide to say fuck it. You pull the tiny pointless straw from your drink, biting it between your teeth as you pull your phone from your pocket, bringing up her text thread. 

You

12:29AM: Where did you go?

You chomp the straw nervously as you move it around in your mouth, feeling it poking and prodding against your gums. You watch your message turn to read, but no reply bubble pops up. You’re facing the door, and you haven’t seen a soul pass through it, so you know she hadn’t snuck out. Seven entire more minutes go by, and you realize she’s not going to respond. You need to make this right. You need to tell her last night meant more than nothing to you. 

Suddenly you get the brazen idea to go ahead and add another song to the playlist, thinking that maybe since it worked last night…

You pull up your music app and hit the search box, already knowing exactly what song you are going to add. ‘Go Outside’ by The Cults. Perfect. Straight and to the point. 

Josh continues to finish out a story you’d already heard twice today as your knee begins to bounce up and down with anticipation. Sure enough, a few minutes later, you get the notification that she, too, has added another song. Yes. Fucking finally.  

‘Gone’ by JR JR magically appears at the bottom of the playlist, and you can’t stop the confused scowl that crosses your face. What the fuck? There’s no way she’s gone… You’ve been watching the door…

You decide to cut the shit, and text her. If anything, you’ll apologize for how everything had gone, and let her continue on with her night. You couldn’t go another second without letting her know how sorry you were that things had gone so awry. You pull up your text thread, seeing the urgent messages from last night still present on your screen. 

You

12:42AM: I know you’re not gone, I’m facing the door. Meet me out back, please?

You don’t even stick around to wait for her reply as you lock your phone and slam it onto the table, standing from your seat to hurriedly head out to the back patio area. “I’ll be back, going for a smoke,” you announce, and thankfully, no one says they want to join you. 

You make your way to the back door, pushing through the heavy metal and into the enclosed seating area. The cold breeze almost takes your breath away. You find that it is fairly big, but thankfully completely empty. The concrete slab is lined with old picnic tables and rickety bar stools that look like they’ve seen better days. You take a seat on top of one of the tables, sliding a blunt out of your front pocket and lighting it to life, letting the smoke fill your lungs and hopefully give you the courage to speak your mind freely. 

Come on, Y/N, don’t let me down…

—

You look up from the cherried tip of the blunt, hearing a pair of boots making their way across the concrete. You look at her as she makes her way towards you, the wind blowing her hair across her face. The sleeves on her shirt are surely not thick enough to brave the cold air, and you find yourself smiling as you remember finding her in the same predicament on the plane. You blow out a ribbon of smoke from your lips just as she steps up to you, her face a little sullen and her cheeks still flushed. You didn’t know if she was going to come. You hoped she would, and now that she has, it’s time to fix things. 

She crosses her arms across her chest, her hands rubbing her arms to ward off the cold. You place the blunt between your lips as you slide your corduroy over your arms and toss it around her. She doesn’t fight you this time, she accepts it, sticking her arms through the sleeves and pulling it tightly across her chest. Your heart beats a little faster seeing her wrapped in it as you pinch the blunt between your fingers. 

“So you didn’t leave after all…” you say, turning to look at her. She doesn’t really answer you, just looks down at the glowing blunt in your hand. You can tell she wants to say something, but she’s not letting herself, and you want to know why. 

“Why did you say that you did?” you ask, flicking the ash with your thumb. 

She bites her lip as she turns out to look out into the distance. She takes in a deep breath and lets it out, turning back to look at you. “Because I was embarrassed. Those people in there? They are my bosses. You are my boss. Now, their first real impression of me is that I’m some helpless idiot that needs a man to rescue her. That I am some dim-witted awestruck groupie or something. I just– This is not the first impression I wanted to make, not with them, and definitely not with you.”

You immediately stop her, knowing that her fears are completely unwarranted. “No, no. None of that is true. None of us think that. I swear. They are just picking on you because they actually do like you. You heard Mia. You would know if they didn’t. I promise. You were amazing today, truly. You made a great first impression with them. And with me,” you offer, hoping it will ease her anxiety. 

She nods a little, giving you a shy smile as you nod back at her hoping to bring her out of her shell a bit. “Did you like the show, at least? Ignore what Josh said, he’s an idiot.”

“Yeah, yeah I did. Jake, you…” she pauses, shaking her head to try and articulate her thought, “You were like a completely different person up there, I–”

You swallow nervously, licking your lips, “Yeah that, kinda happens. I don’t know why or how, but something changes when I’m out there with my guitar. But, I promise it’s still normal me under all of it,” you respond, nudging her arm with your elbow, trying to get a smile out of her. 

She smiles enough that you let it go, but you can tell that she’s still shaken from earlier, and you know it’s time to make your amends. “The stuff inside with the guys…That’s not what’s bothering you, is it…” you pause, meeting her eyes, “It’s what I said.”

She nods a little, shrugging her shoulders as if she’s nervous to admit it, and you feel a shock of guilt run through you. You blow out a stream of smoke into the air above you, reaching your hand out to softly touch her arm as she sits on the stool in front of you. 

“It’s not true, what I said. I– didn’t mean that,” you confess, your voice a little lower and more sincere. 

Her eyes flick up to yours, “Which thing? That it wasn’t a big deal or that you want to pretend it never happened?” 

Fuck, you did say that earlier. You lean a little closer to her, letting your hand slide beneath her elbow and over her arm again, “Both. I actually haven’t stopped thinking about it. About you…about these…” you answer, bringing your hand up to cup her cheek, letting your thumb swipe over her bottom lip. “Not for a single second.”

Her lips are soft, a little wet. You can smell the vodka on her breath and goddamn if that doesn’t make you want her more for some reason. You want to taste her, but you need to devour her. 

A smile crosses her lips, as she moves closer to you, “I was kinda wondering if you were going to make good on that text, or if it was just for show.”

You huff a laugh as you flick at the blunt again, “Well, as you saw, I do enjoy the show, but I keep my word. I meant what I said last night.”

Your eyes are dark and demanding as they look into hers. You feel her hand meet yours, plucking the blunt from your fingers and placing the tip between her pink lips, “So did I.”

She takes a long drag from the blunt, holding her breath and letting the tobacco and earth flavored smoke swirl through her lungs. She places it back in your mouth, blowing the stream of smoke over her shoulder as she leans onto the table with challenging eyes. You feel her fingertips barely tap on your lips as you take the blunt back, and the icy contact sets off an alarm in your mind to get her somewhere warm. 

You hit the blunt one last time before dabbing it out on the tabletop, flicking the burnt-out paper to somewhere unknown. You stand quickly from the table, gripping her hand in yours as you pull her from the barstool. “C’mon,” you murmur, feeling the blood begin to rush through your body with anticipation. You begin leading her over to a door on the corner of the patio, again looking to see if anyone was around. 

“Where are we going?” she breathes. You squeeze her hand, realizing that you’d already intertwined her fingers with yours, just as you had last night on the walk back to the hotel. 

You pull the door open, letting the outside light barely illuminate the small bathroom. You do a quick check to make sure it isn’t trashed or occupied, and you pull her inside, shutting the door behind you. The small room is completely dark, devoid of any and all light at all, except for the tiniest sliver of ambient light coming from under the door. You stand with your hands still wrapped up in hers, and what felt like only inches away judging from the feeling of her breath hitting your lips.

“Wanna make good on my word…” you breathe, the sound of your heart racing in your ears. 

“...In a bathroom, Jake? She giggles anxiously, but you know she doesn’t really mean it. 

You let your hand follow the sound of her words, cupping her jaw again as you bring her into closer proximity. Your thumb brushes her lips again, and you can feel it trembling just a little. Or, maybe it's your hand shaking…the nerves rising up have you feeling light headed. There has never been another woman that makes you react like this. Ever. 

“Did you have somewhere else in mind?” you ask, bringing your lip between your teeth as you hear her breath catch, and feel her head shake side to side. 

You feel her tiptoe just a little bit, bringing her forehead to balance on yours. Your noses graze just barely, and her chest rests across yours, heaving steadily along with each breath the both of you take. Don’t fuck this up, Jake… 

“No, this is perfect,” she whispers, her lips finally making the smallest contact with yours. You feel all of your nerves at attention, every hair on your body standing on end with anticipation for touching her; feeling just the bare minimum of her body was already sending your nervous system into overdrive. Your fingertips tighten on her cheek as you finally close the gap, feeling her plush lips pressing into yours for the second time in twenty four hours. She’s soft and inviting, the feeling of her just the same as it was last night, except now without the element of forced surprise. She feels natural and normal, like you’re meeting her again for the first time after a lifetime spent apart. 

It’s like a dream, except the dream quickly turns into the most devious nightmare as she turns up the heat of the kiss. Her tongue presses gently into your mouth, and you’re allowed your first taste of her. Sweet and sour- her natural essence mixed with the limes that were in her drink… the smell of her perfume, the inability to see her face… it was all making your head spin and your vision blur.

The kiss is heated already, like she had been wanting it just as badly as you had. Your mouths crash onto one another's, her hands quickly finding your shoulder and waist as the smallest sound escapes her throat. She pulls you in toward her, her knee slipping in between your legs. Fuck, she feels good. You grasp her up in your arms, pulling her in more tightly as you begin pushing her backward toward the wall. You feel her gently bump into it, and you take the opportunity to move things in a bit more. 

Swiftly, but with the utmost caution, you press her body into the wall, letting your lips trail just a little further from her mouth, down onto her jawline. “This okay?” you mutter, your lips now brushing right below her ear. You feel her body react, her muscles tensing up from your words. 

You feel her head nod, “Yeah, yes. It’s… Keep–”

Her words stop short as you embrace her again, finding the kiss to have deepened even more since she gave you the go-ahead. Her hands slip up underneath your shirt, and you can feel the light scratch of her nails across your stomach. You swear you could come undone right then and there, but you hold back, taking a deep breath through your nose as you try to regain your composure. Hardly anything has even happened, and you’re already contemplating how you were going to best satisfy her tonight. 

Your hands are begging to feel her skin, so you let them… your calloused fingertips creeping up under her tight black shirt just as hers had just done, her waist thick with soft muscle under the grip of your hands. You squeeze, committing the feeling of her in your grasp to the darkest parts of your memory. Fuck, you wish you could see her. 

You part, stepping back just as you grip both of her hips in your hands, jerking her harshly into you. “Why did you say you left when you didn’t?” you ask, trying like hell to catch your breath. 

“I was leaving…” she mumbles, pressing her center right back onto you. God, fuck. “I got a phone call.” 

“From who?” you bite, your teeth clenched as you stop your eyes from rolling back in your head from the feel of her pressed against you.

“A friend.”

You huff an exasperated breath. “A friend who?”

She bucks her hips forward again, and the movement sends a surge of blood flow straight to your dick; you know for a fact she can tell how hard you are, now. “Do you really want me to answer that, or do you want to keep kissing me?”

You growl with aggravation, gripping her shoulders and pulling her away from the wall, up against the bathroom sink. You press your lips to hers again as her hands grip into your hair, pulling at the strands as you fight each other for dominance over the kiss. You can feel her fingers entangling themselves at the back of your neck as she pulls you in, unable to get you close enough. 

She breaks away for a second, and you feel immediate sadness at the loss of contact. “To answer your first question, I said I left because... I wanted to see if you would follow me.”

“I would have,” you answer with no hesitation whatsoever.

“Why?”

You click your tongue, knowing that you aren’t in a position to go into detail about your unexpected, but not unwanted feelings for her. “I can’t answer that question at the moment, but when I can, I’ll let you know,” you explain, earning yourself a pissed-off laugh from her. 

“Don’t scoff at me, little fledgling,” you tease, running your tongue up the side of her neck. She chills under your touch, playfully pushing your shoulders back. 

You reach down, gripping the backs of her thighs as you lift her onto the marble countertop, pushing her knees apart to find your place between them again. You gently jerk her forward, letting her center meet up with yours at the most perfect height. The sound that escapes her is nothing short of the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard, and you part your lips, drinking her noises in and swallowing them down to live within you for as long as she’d let them. 

You press yourself into her harder now, rolling your hips a bit as you start to lose all composure. Fuck, whenever this does finally happen, it’s gonna be good… Your hands are traveling all over her body that’s still covered in your heavy corduroy jacket, and you can feel the heat radiating from your bodies and warming up the otherwise chilled room. You want to feel her, you want to reach down and feel your clothed bodies touching one another, but you stop yourself. Instead, you grip your hands into her thighs, moving them higher and higher until they’re rested at the crease where her legs meet her ass. You want so much to keep going, keep wrapping your hands and digging your fingertips and exploring all that you could, but again, you slow your movements. 

You gingerly stop your grip, instead trailing your hands lightly from her hips, up her sides and shoulders, back up to cup both of her cheeks in your hands, slowing the intense make-out into a soft subtle kiss. 

“What’s wrong, Jake? Why–”

“Not here. Not like this…” you answer, and if you could see her, you swear you would have seen the same look of defeat as you’d seen earlier. Except this time, for a better reason than the first. You back away a little, feeling her body language fall. 

“You’re right, you’re right,” she agrees, hopping down from the sink. “This… isn’t the best setup.”

You adjust yourself in your jeans as you laugh, “Oh, it’s the perfect setup. I just… ya know…”

“People are probably wondering how you made a smoke last this long,” she whispers.

You laugh again, taking her in a sincere embrace, letting her face bury into your chest. “Yeah, exactly.” You sway a couple of seconds as the both of you come down from the heavy session, and you can still feel her heart beating erratically as she presses against you. You lurch down and take her chin between your fingers, bringing your lips to hers in a soft and sweet kiss. 

“Been thinking about doing that every single second since last night,” you admit quietly.

She laughs shyly. “Can’t believe I just made out with my boss…”

 “Hey, cut that boss shit. Paul is your boss. I’m your…”

“...Mmmmmyyy….”

“I’m the one that hired your boss. Get it straight,” you pick, feigning cockiness. 

“Oh please…” she laughs, pushing you hard against the wall in the still blacked-out room.

“Let’s get out of here,” you say as you move toward the door to make your grand escape, with all intentions to go ahead and make the trek back to the hotel by yourselves. The two of you step out of the bathroom and back onto the patio, fixing your tousled hair and unkempt clothes. As you round the corner, you’re stopped dead in your tracks as you meet eyes with the last person you wanted to see out here. 

Josh is leaned against the same picnic table that you’d extinguished your blunt on, legs crossed at the ankle as he hugs his arms on his chest. The smug fucking smile on his face was enough to turn your raging libido into straight nausea. He holds your phone into the air, shaking it side to side as the screen lights up. 

“You left this on the table, it’s been blowing up. Thought you might wanna answer it after the…third consecutive call, but now I see that you were otherwise occupied…” he snaps, his tone anything but playful. You snatch it from his hand, glancing at the screen to see a string of missed calls and texts, but most notably of them all is a text from Y/N telling you she was on her away to meet you outside. Shit. Your eyes flick to Josh’s, and you can read his expression like a book. He raises his eyebrows as he bites a smile, as if he’s saying ‘caught ya’.

You feel Y/N still standing behind you, most likely also unable to move from her stance. You watch as Josh nods to her, then brings his fingers to his mouth, motioning that he’s locking his lips, and throwing away the key. He turns and slowly walks back inside the bar, not uttering another word.

You feel her hand on your back, “Why did he do that?” she asks, a crease between her brows. 

Goddammit Josh. 

“I don’t know,” you snap, your voice a little harsher than you intended. It's a lie though, you know exactly why he did it. 

You turn around to face her, running your hands up and down over her arms to warm her up, “I don’t know what’s up with him tonight, maybe you should spare yourself. Head back early…”

She seems a little taken aback at your suggestion, stepping back a few steps. “Oh, um, yeah you’re right, I should– I should probably go. I have some... stuff I need to do anyway.”

You can feel the nervous energy flowing from her body as her legs continue to move backwards. You don’t want her to leave, but you see no way around it now.

“Be safe, call if you need us,” you say, shoving your hands in your pockets. 

She hesitates before turning away completely, almost as if she was waiting to see if you were planning to join her. You want to. You want to take her back to her room and finish what you started, but you can’t. You know Josh is waiting for you, counting each second until you step through that door. 

She stops, turning back to you, “Oh, your jacket…”

“Keep it. I’ll get it later,” you say, lifting your hand and waving.

Her eyes meet yours again as she nods, a hint of sadness beneath them. Fuck fuck fuck.

You watch her walk back inside, disappearing through the door. You wait a minute or two before you make your way back inside, seeing Josh sitting in the booth alone. You mumble a curse under your breath as you slide into the booth across from him, drinking the water of the melted ice from your abandoned drink. 

Josh is staring at you as he sips his drink, his eyes drifting over towards the bar where Ty and the rest of the group have gathered. He looks back to you as he sets his drink on the table and folds his hands together. 

“So yeah, how’s that break going, Jacob? Pretty good it seems?” he pauses, shaking his head, “You really are getting your head straight or whatever the fuck it is you told her.”

You toss your head back in annoyance. This fucker thinks he knows everything. 

“Listen to me,” you demand, your voice growing deep. “You need to stay the fuck out of it. I’m dealing with it. Do you hear me?”

He blows you off, scoffing under his breath. 

“Do you hear me, Josh,” you growl.

He drags his eyes back to yours, dark and piercing, “Yeah, Jacob. I hear you. But answer me this, when was the last time you spoke to her?”

It feels like a punch in the gut as you answer, “None of your fucking business.”

“No, no, see it is kind of my business, seeing as how you’ve been–”

“No, you know what, I’m not doing this. I’m leaving, I’ll see you in the morning,” you spit, standing from the booth and grabbing your things. 

“Don’t be that guy, Jake.”

You suck your teeth and nod at him with a fake smile as you turn to head toward the door. 

Fucking prick, thinks he gets to call the shots in everyones life. Fuck him.

The walk to the hotel is short, the cold air cutting through you like a knife, but you’re glad she has your jacket. You know that when you get it back it will smell like her, and that alone makes this icy wind worth it. 

Your mind drifts as you walk, your brain replaying the image of her in the bathroom. The way her lips felt, the way she tasted. The feeling of her skin in your hands. You have half a mind to run straight to her, pick up where you left off, but after the look on her face you aren’t sure you can. 

Your phone starts to buzz in your pocket as you draw closer to the hotel, a persistent buzz indicating a phone call, not a text. You pull it from your pocket seeing the name on the Caller ID for what has to be the fourth time tonight. You curse as you slide your finger across the screen answering the call. 

“Hello...”

“Hey baby, I didn’t think you were gonna pick up!” her familiar voice says. 

“Wonder what could have possibly given you that idea,” you gripe in response. 

“Sorry, I’m just missing you. Haven’t heard from you…” she whines. 

“Yes, Isla. That is exactly the point of a break. To not hear from me,” you snap. 

“But Jake, I thought you’d at least tell me you made it. I’ve been worried and you turned off your location and everything, I just miss you,” she continues, her voice suddenly grating on your nerves. 

“Isla, Christ…What are you not getting?”

“Do you not miss me?” she asks, fishing for a reciprocated sentiment. 

Your phone buzzes in your hand as you start to answer, pulling it away just enough to see the notification banner at the top. 

‘Y/N Added A Song to Your Shared Playlist: 🐥’

Your heart lurches in your chest when you read it, and whatever Isla is saying turns into a hum of noise.

“Jake? Are you listening to me?” she asks, her tone annoyed. 

“What? Yeah, I hear you. Look I uh, it’s late here. I just got back to the hotel. I’ll call you soon, okay?” you ask, trying to calm her enough to get off the phone.

“I know we’re on a break, Jake, but you know I still love you.” 

“Yeah, yeah I know, hey I’m getting on the elevator, I’m about to lose you. I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

You hear her sigh, “Okay, bye babe.”

“Bye,” you say, hitting the red button and ending the call. 

“Fuck me, FUCK me!” you shout, the elevator doors closing in front of you. You hit the nine button letting it carry you up to your floor. This has got to stop.

You immediately open the notification from Y/N, waiting for the playlist to load. You watch as the songs start to populate one by one, the last and most recent one finally loading as you step out of the elevator on your floor. Your heart drops as you read the name of the song you know all too well. ‘High and Dry’ by Radiohead. 

Fucking hell. How many times are you going to screw it up with this girl? 

You press play, letting the somber and melancholy tune play through the speakers as you fumble around for your hotel room key. The lyrics swirl through your ears as you realize that you did exactly what the song says. You left her high and dry in order to cover your own ass. You’ve given her a hundred reasons to never speak to you again, and you wouldn’t blame her if she did.

You make the walk down the hallway, spotting your room, but stopping short when your eyes land on her hotel room door just a few steps away. You know she is just behind that door, probably in bed, wondering what she did wrong. Fuck. 

Your mind flashes back to last night, when you wanted to kiss her again, standing at that very door. But tonight, you did. You kissed her again and fuck if it wasn’t even better than the first time. You had every intention of taking her back here tonight. Every single intention of doing whatever she asked of you. In the matter of twenty-four hours she had you completely wrapped around her finger. You’d give her anything she wanted. You want her, badly, but you just can’t seem to stop fucking it up. And now that Josh knows, you know that it will only be a matter of time before everyone knows.

You bite your lips together as you pull your room key from your pocket, looking at the shiny white plastic in your hand as your heart pounds in your chest. Your eyes flick to your door for just a moment then back to her door only a few measly steps away. The song ends as you look down at the phone in your hand.

Should you reply? Should you go to her? Should you let it be?

You know what you want to do, and you know what you should do. 

But the real question is what will you do?

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[frannyzooey]

The Dinner

Marcus Moreno x f!college reader

The Secret Universe

Rating: Explicit, Daddy Kink™ (seriously, like a lot)

A/N: I have many people to thank for this one: @imaswellkid @the-ginger-hedge-witch @whatsnewalycat @obiknights and the amazing @the-scandalorian - every single one of them gave me the most amazing advice, but also gave me endless reassurance when I needed it, and I could never thank them enough. Sometimes it really takes a village ❤

--

“How is stats this semester? Need any help?” 

You take a slow sip of your ice water, listening. 

“It’s okay,” Missy replies. “Better, now that I signed up for tutoring during my free period, which — “ she points her fork at her father, who currently has a slightly smug expression on his face, “— totally sucks. I know you said it would help, and it did, but at what cost, dad?”

His shoulders move as he huffs a laugh and he pokes around his dinner plate, spearing some roasted broccoli. Shrugging, he glances at you. “Is a couple of hours a week impacting your guys' social life that bad?”

“No, sir,” you answer with a polite smile. 

The title slips off your tongue with ease, and his playful expression falters for a moment. 

Clearing his throat, he shifts in his chair. “That’s what I thought.” 

He takes a swallow of his water — a small sip, then a larger one — and the three of you continue to eat. 

The dining room where you sit is seldom used, but cozy. The lighting dim but inviting, the sparse surface of the table lends it a more formal appearance and you think about how much you would have preferred to eat at the table in the kitchen. The one you passed earlier, cluttered with mail, magazines, keys, and other things that never really have any other home than a flat surface in the kitchen. 

Eating there would have made you feel more at ease. Eating here makes you feel more like a guest. And with Marcus at the head of the table, the formality of the seating arrangement pulls at you: a constant reminder of who he is. 

Forks slide against plates, glasses being set down with a muted thud on the wooden surface of the table and when Missy reaches for another bread roll, a glance over at him has you noticing his body language.  

He’s looking everywhere but you – at a painting on the wall, at his half eaten plate, at the condensation gathering on his glass. He lets his hand rest around the glass, his thumb swiping through the water and a thrumming, heady pulse that Missy seems oblivious to grows until it fills the space between your chairs. 

Swallowing, you place your elbow on the table near his own. A muscle twitches in his jaw, and his attention turns back to Missy. 

“What else is new?” he asks. “I never hear from you anymore. The room still okay? The bed still make that funny noise?”

Missy frowns, holding a bite of chicken aloft in front of her mouth. “How did you know about that?” 

Marcus sits up straight, shifting again in his chair and opening his mouth as if getting ready to speak, but Missy interrupts him. 

“Oh yea, it was there on move in day,” she remembers. “Whatever. No, we got that tool kit out that you gave me at the beginning of the year and fixed it yesterday. A real girl boss moment.”

She looks over at you and grins, and you return it despite the rapid beat of your heart.

“Yea,” you add, not allowing your eyes to stray from her face. “You killed it.”

You can feel his eyes on you, aware out of the corner of your eye how they slide down your frame and back up again. Whether he’s conscious of it or not, he’s been doing it all night and you want nothing more than to return the look, but you don’t. 

“You ladies have any plans for the weekend?” Marcus asks. 

Missy nods, excitement filling her eyes. “Yea, I think so? I got laundry and stuff to catch up on, but there is this party tomorrow night I wanna go to. I got a text about it earlier, I think it’s around 8ish?”

A small frown appears between Marcus’s brows. “Where’s it at? Around here?”

“Yea, I think so? I’m not really sure. I’ll have to look up the address or something.”

He doesn’t like that answer, you can tell by the way his frown doesn’t go away and you chance a peek at his face while he’s distracted. A pulsing beat gathers between your thighs, at both the sternness of his expression but also the care behind it. 

“Well,” he continues, taking another bite of dinner. “Let me know, okay? I’ll drop you off and pick you up.”

“Dad,” Missy playfully whines. “You’re embarrassing me.”

He rolls his eyes, stretching his legs out under the table and when one of his knees knocks into yours, you still. 

His eyes glance down, a short, apologetic smile showing briefly in your direction but he doesn’t move it. It stays there, his leg shifting just enough to press against yours with intent and as the dinner goes on, you resist the urge to smile. 

–

You met them both for the first time on move-in day. 

Cars lined along the driveway to the dorms with their trunks crammed full of new bedding and boxes and the bare essentials for kitchens and showers, you noticed them right away. 

Missy, true to the picture she emailed you weeks ago when introducing herself as your new roommate, and Marcus, when he stepped around the side of the car to open the trunk. Close-cropped dark hair shone browner in the sun, the strands neatly combed into place, yet slightly curled with the humidity. His shirt stretched tight across his wide shoulders, tucked neatly into dress pants that fit him perfectly. The fabric pulled across his back when he leaned forward to reach in for the first boxes and when Missy shouted your name, he turned around. 

You had to pull your eyes away from his face to greet her with a shy smile. 

He stuck around the entire morning – making sure the lofts were set up correctly, helping move furniture, his kind, good humored eyes on his daughter as he took in her first day at college. He offered to take the two of you out to lunch in celebration, but before you could reply, Missy shooed him away. 

“We’re gonna go grab a coffee or something. Get to know each other. You can get outta here, dad. Thanks for the help.”

You could tell she genuinely meant it, but the paltry thanks wasn’t enough in your opinion. He had already done more than your parents had ever done for you, and you wondered what it was like to grow up in a house where it happened so often you took it for granted. Your parents hadn’t even bothered to give you a ride on your first day, you had taken the bus with your meager boxes. 

He humored her, giving her a soft smile and when he turned to say goodbye to you, you made sure to hold his gaze when you thanked him. 

“Not a problem,” he replied sincerely. “It was really nice to meet you.”

“You too.”

–

The two of them clear the plates while you grab what you can from the table, and it’s apparent that they have their own shorthand method of communication with each other. She clears, he starts the dishwater. She empties scraps into the trash to stack plates neatly by the sink, and when you help her, his eyes linger on your mouth when he turns to say thank you. 

A routine that had never taken place in your own home, you revel in the roles everyone plays. The comfort of them, the domesticity. You imagine the two of them doing this every night before Missy left for college, and the mental image of Marcus standing at the sink with his t-shirt stretched over the strong muscles of his back warms you from the inside out. Even more when you think about him reminding Missy to clear her place, or asking her what she wants in her lunch tomorrow. 

The qualities of a dad: one who does because he cares, but also guides. 

Done clearing, Missy leaves the room, the telltale sound of the washer door opening down the hall, and Marcus stills at the sink, listening. 

“Listen, don’t jam it all in there like last time, okay?” he warns, his eyes looking up at the ceiling. “You can do more than one load. No rush, Missy, okay?”

“Yea, yea, I got it,” she yells back, and he sighs, shaking his head. You meet his eye in a knowing look, and the corner of his lips pulls up in a rueful smile. 

“She almost broke it last time, trying to fit about a month of clothes in all at once.”

You laugh, and nod. “She does that at the dorm too.” 

He shakes his head, pushing his hands into the water. 

“You don’t need to use those machines — either of you. You’re always welcome to come over and do it here,” he offers, searching in the sudsy water for a plate. Finding it, he begins scrubbing it with a rag. “Either of you. Even if she can’t come, you can.”

A pause.

“Anytime you want.”

The invitation hangs between the two of you in the silence, and you keep your eyes on his forearms as they flex above the suds. A sudden, unbidden image of them flexing between your thighs flashes through your mind, the weight of his fingers felt inside you. 

His voice lowers. “We could even plan it that way, so we don’t have to keep…“

He gives you a knowing look, and guilt gnaws at you as you listen to Missy hum in the next room.  

“It’s not that I don’t want that,” you explain, your voice keeping quiet. “I just don’t want…” Uncertainty flashes across your features and when you look up, you find that he’s already looking at you. 

“Don’t want what?” he asks. 

Unsure how to put your fear into words, you hesitate. Moving your meetings to his house somehow makes them more of an offense in your mind. In the space he shares with his daughter; their family home. 

The duality of the man standing next to you has been messing with you all night: the Marcus that stands beside you now versus the Marcus that you know. The unassuming, kind face of a good father masking the hooded lust you know his eyes contain. The strength held in his arms when he takes the trash out; the flex of them under your bare knees when he spreads you wide. His plush bottom lip in a soft smile for his daughter; the same pressing against your skin, your mouth, between your legs. 

A secret shadow follows him around constantly, fleeting slices of the man you know appearing if you watch him long enough. His throaty laugh, the spread of his thighs on the couch, the flex of his jaw.

Seeing him here in his kitchen or at the head of the dining room table has the men merging in your mind despite your ability, until now, to keep them separate. You pull your bottom lip into your mouth with your teeth, thinking. 

“Don’t want what?” he repeats, softer this time, tenderness curling around the words and you’re about to answer when Missy walks back into the kitchen. 

“Hey, you don’t have to help him with that. I got it.”

He stands taller, shifting away from you and you back up from the sink, making room for her. She immediately scoops a delicate mound of bubbles and flicks them at Marcus, laughing when he grimaces with a chuckle. The teasing makes you smile.

He’s so good with her — so patient, and kind, and attentive. So genuinely invested in her answers in a way you’d never experienced, and though you are happy for your best friend in that she has such a doting parent, you’d be lying if you said a little jealousy never crept into your heart when you watched them. 

Not because you wanted either of them to choose you, but because they so clearly had each other. Someone to depend on; a traditional parental/child relationship full of trust and respect and love. 

You watch them for a moment as they work in tandem, their mannerisms similar from behind. 

“I’m gonna take a shower before bed,” you announce, and excusing yourself from the room, you leave them to finish the dishes. 

—

“I didn’t think you were gonna come.”

Down the hall from his room and across from Missy’s, the guest bedroom door clicks shut quietly in the dark. The shuffle of sheets whispering as you shift to make room for him in the bed, the mattress dips when he joins you, the heat of his body felt close. His hands reach for you, pulling you closer and there are no other words spoken as his mouth meets yours, deepening the kiss immediately. 

His tongue slides against your own, your taste familiar and maddeningly addictive, and he groans deeply into it, rolling you onto your back. 

Beneath the solid weight of his body is your favorite place – secure, safe, desired, wanted. Trapped between the soft bed and the scent of his warm skin, his mouth takes and takes and takes from yours until you’re drunk with arousal beneath him, wanting to stay there forever. 

“I wanted you so bad at dinner,” he breathes in a low confession. “So fucking bad, even when you walked through the door.”

Every one of his words is matched with a weighted grind of his hips into the cradle of your thighs, and you roll right back against him, a soft sound catching in your throat at the delicious pressure. There is something that makes you weak about his voice in general, but when he swears – especially in his desperation to express how much he’s wanted you – it lights a path straight from your ears to your center; need blooming fierce and bright.

You would tell him how much you thought about him just as much if his mouth didn’t immediately cover yours again, and pushing your fingers through his close-cropped dark hair, you match his urgency. Your knees hitch higher around his broad torso, your thighs tightening with every flex of your hips up and the stiff length of his cock underneath his sleep pants fits perfectly along the damp seam darkening your underwear. 

You can feel the thick ridge of it, aching for the filling heft as he grinds his hips against you again and again, and whimpering for more underneath him, the words slip out. 

“Please, daddy.”

He stills for a split second, breaking the kiss as a shudder slips through him and a wash of embarrassed heat floods your face, but it’s quickly replaced with arousal when he groans as if in pain, his furrowed brow pressed into the plane of your chest. 

His hand splays against your side to keep you in place with a pained press of his fingers. “Jesus Christ, baby, you can’t — you can’t say things like that. Please. Please.”

“But I want it,” you whisper. 

You do. You’ve wanted it ever since you met him, just knowing by looking at him that he would give you what you need. So thoughtful, so considerate and kind, so attentive and warm but also very much a man – a handsome, understated man with needs that showed clear on his face every time you met him after that first time. 

The second, third, fourth time you met him, the flicker of interest in his dark brown eyes. 

The magnetic, heady pulse of attraction that filled the small room when he showed up once while Missy was at class. 

The lunch that he invited you to instead of her, and the undivided attention he gave you from across the table. The way he reminded you to buckle your seatbelt, and the way you leaned over and kissed him when he waited a beat too long reluctantly saying goodbye outside your dorm, on the street.  

That first, tentative kiss after he followed you back to your room at the reassurance Missy had classes that afternoon, and the frown furrowed between his brows, both at how wrong it was to want this and relief at finally giving in. 

The soft cotton of your sheets sliding against your bare back, the way his body seemed too big for the narrow twin. 

His giving mouth, soothing guidance rumbled in his deep voice. 

Something that’s taken root in your mind with every time he brings you to bed, you don’t know how else to describe how you want to be tucked into his side to be made felt safe and secure, while also fucked deep into the mattress until you’re sobbing with fullness. 

Being here with him has made the need for it unbearable, and what you do know is that no matter what you want, he’ll give it to you. 

Your confession is a quiet one that lingers in the air and he looks up, his doleful, brown eyes finding yours. They stay there, searching for the truth and when he finds it in your slightly ashamed expression, he pulls himself up until you are face to face. 

“Yea?” he asks, soothing stray hairs at your temple. “You want a daddy?”

The word gives him pause, but his cock hardens painfully against the cool sheets and when you nod, the vulnerability shown on your face is so open that he finds himself mirroring it, wanting to soothe. 

He not only understands but wants, so very badly.  

“Okay, okay,” he agrees. The tension in your body drains as you soften underneath him; pliant and moldable for his needs. “Say it again, baby.”

“Daddy,” you whisper in a relieved rush, your plush lips parting only just. 

His hooded eyes watch the word slip from your mouth, and his thumb skates along the plump cushion of your bottom lip, before pushing just inside. He slides his thumb over the wet muscle of your tongue, letting you suck on it. 

Bright need swells and aches between his thighs, your soft, lush skin slipping against his as you squirm in need underneath him and he slips his thumb from your mouth before pressing his lips to yours with a rough kiss. 

Desperate to feel the clutch of your tight, wet cunt, he reaches down to open you up for him, his hand slipping beneath your panties and his fingers sliding with a familiar swipe through your soaked curls. He finds the dip where you need him most, your arousal soaking the pads of his competent touch and his breathing quickens, his eyes flitting between your face and his cotton covered hand. 

The same fingers that made dinner, that queued up the movie, that clasped under his chin when he listened to Missy talk. The same ones that held the steering wheel in a loose grip as he drove you to the store.

They’ve slid into your mouth before, and then your cunt. Brushed against the puckered rim of your asshole, swirled with divine pressure over your clit, and filled you to the brim until you cried out, your cunt a snug slip around them. 

Two fill you now with an urgent slide, the action making him swallow the soft catch of your whine and the ease in which he slips them in and out is aided by how wet and ready you are for him. 

Always so wet; his perfect girl.

“When you called me ‘sir’ at the dinner table,” he pants, nuzzling the bridge of his nose along your jaw as he looks down at his hand. Your thighs open wider for him, and you softly moan, chasing the thick fill of his fingers. “I almost fucking lost it. So sweet. So sweet, baby.” 

“Just – just for you.” Your brow furrowed in pleasure, you chase what he’s building inside you, your small hand slipping down to cover his larger one. Your fingers push over his, guiding him as if he needs it, and the both of you get lost in the slick, consuming motion; his eyes glued on your parted mouth. “I’m sorry if you didn’t want me to say it. The daddy thing, I –”

“Don’t be sorry. No, fuck. Don’t be sorry, baby. I wanna hear it. I want it.”

His soothing words wash over you, your cunt accepting him deeper as he adds a third finger and before he gives you time to adjust, he’s slipping them from your wet heat, sliding them into his mouth with a suck. He groans with a frown, his lashes dark against his face as his eyes flutter shut and he shifts abruptly down the bed. 

His fingers grip the band of your underwear and tug them roughly down your legs before the width of his shoulders forces your knees apart. The heat of his mouth felt in a humid gust against your spread, bared seam, he tugs you tight to his face, and the emptiness left by the sudden absence of his fingers is immediately replaced with his thick, eager tongue. 

“Marcus!”

His whiskered cheeks brushing roughly against the tender skin on the inside of your thighs, he devours your cunt, his back flexing as he nearly pushes you up the bed in his hunger if not for the way his hands curl around the top of your thighs to hold you in place.  

“Shhh, baby. Shhh,” he reminds you, and you let out a quiet sob, clasping your hand over your mouth. 

He’s so much, a sensory overload being amplified by the darkness around you: the needy grip of his large hands, the slick slide of his tongue, the muffled groans he’s letting out between your legs. 

“You taste so good, baby,” he breathes, his mouth dragging damply over the inside of your thigh with a thick kiss before he licks your clit with the flat of his tongue. He slides it from side to side with pressure, a motion that makes you bow off the bed. 

Mindless with pleasure, you’re overcome with the need to anchor yourself to something — the direct attention is so much, too much — and your hands fist the sheets, your back arching. 

“I washed it just for you, daddy.”

You should be embarrassed but all traces of shame are turned to cinder the second he groans deep and loud, the sound muffled by the way he immediately buries his face with an open mouthed kiss. It’s messy and decadent, his tongue pushing inside you and then it swipes lower. 

Your hips jolt up to meet it; his low, satisfied groan sounding between your cheeks. 

“Fuck,” you whine, the tip of his tongue pressing against the tight ring of muscle before he flattens it to lick a wide, wet stripe from the seam of your ass all the way to your clit. Another one, before he gives your soaked entrance a hungry kiss and the pressure of his face being buried so deep makes you grind against him, your hips moving in time with his, as he seeks his own relief against the sheets. 

“I’m gonna — I’m gonna fucking come. Daddy, you’re gonna make me come.” 

It’s a plea if he’s ever heard one, and he zeroes his focus in on your clit — circling it with his tongue before giving it a light suck. He keeps going as you thread your fingers into his hair with a tug, keeps going as you press your lips together to try to stifle your moans, and keeps going when your thighs tense around his cheeks and you come with a breathless whimper; his tongue swiping hungrily through the salt of your release.

All tension in your body gone, he kisses a path slowly up your body while you lay and catch your breath – up over the top of your thigh, the rounded curve of your hip, the soft, plush underside of your breast. 

He cradles you to his chest, tugging you onto your side as his mouth drags along the line of your neck. He kisses a path over the skin and your hips shift, seeking his out. He can feel you squirming, looking for relief and bellies together, he rolls you onto your back, your hands working together to push his pajama bottoms down and off. 

Your touch is back to frantic as he pulls from your mouth, his hands cradling the sides of your head to keep you in place as he gets his fill and you wind your legs around his waist, encouraging him to push inside. 

He does – a motion that makes your moan get lost underneath his deeper one – and the snap of his hips is immediate and hard, the filling weight of his cock pushing the air from your lungs. 

His lips kiss your closed eyelids, his tongue sweeping over the salt rimmed lashes where a tear lingers and his mouth finds the fragrant, soft skin below your ear. His lips press against it, his mustache tickling you, the roll of his hips never ceasing. 

“You’re being so good for daddy. So good.”

Your eyes open and find his, and he throbs with how sincerely vulnerable you look underneath him right now, desperate to know you’re being good. 

“You’re such a good girl. Always letting me fuck you the way I want. Always letting me take care of you, like you take care of me.” His lips find the corner of your mouth, the delicacy of the kiss in contrast with the way you have to dig your nails into his broad back to hang on as he fucks you harder and he pulls back just enough to look at your face.

“You’re so good, aren’t you, baby. Aren’t you.”

It’s not a question for you to answer, but rather a statement he needs you to confirm and you nod, a tiny frown of pleasure appearing between your brows as you shift rhythmically underneath him. 

“My baby,” he murmurs, catching your mouth in a deep kiss. “My baby.” 

Your hand trails down the line of his spine and splays over his tailbone, sweat beading along the skin as he fills, fills, fills and you widen your thighs, digging your fingers into the swell of his ass to force him deeper. 

“Please, daddy. Please.”

His hips shift into a slow, weighted grind when you beg using those words. He never pulls all the way out, rather forcing himself so deep into the heart of you that you tremble with the need to come underneath him. 

“You’re so fucking pretty. So pretty when you’re gonna come.”

His praise fills you with light from the inside out, pouring out through your sweat damp skin where it’s flush with his own and another tear slips free; your release both a bright, shining edge that he’s guiding you towards and a strong, powerful current that threatens to pull you under. 

“Give it to me.” 

His voice is husky and strained, a quiet plea for you to let go and when you do with a silent cry, the deep dimpled smile on his face is a proud one, equal parts awe and lust. 

He follows shortly after, the tight, wet clutch of your cunt too much for him – but it’s your relieved face that makes him spend every ounce inside you with slow, smooth strokes until there is nothing left. You look so light underneath him, so content and drowsy and drunk with relief. 

He can’t help himself when he bends to kiss the tear track that runs over your temple, giving you another kiss on the apple of your cheek. 

“So good. You were so good.”

You’re so spent you can’t even kiss him back, rather letting him gently nudge you to meet his mouth and even then you let him take what he needs from your kiss swollen lips, opening up for him when his mouth demands it. 

Eventually he shifts, just enough to settle beside you rather than on top, but you automatically follow the heat of his body, curling into his chest. 

“There’s, uh —” he starts, closing his eyes. You watch the thud of his pulse under the tanned skin of his neck. He licks his plush lips, trying to catch his breath. “There’s milk and cereal — or eggs, if you want those in the morning. I didn’t know what you guys would want, so I —“

Your quiet laugh stops him and he looks down at you, smiling when he sees your expression. 

“Are you really telling me about my breakfast options, like some kinda guest?”

“Yea, I guess I am,” he grins. “But you are a special guest in this house,” he replies, tugging you closer. His mouth finds the curve of your collarbone, his smile felt against the skin there. “Especially for me.”

“Guests really get the full treatment here, huh,” you tease. “Dinner, laundry, breakfast, their ass eate—“

You can almost feel his blush in the dark, his fingers immediately digging into your side to stop your sentence, and your stifled giggles fill the dark room but he doesn’t let up until you’re squirming underneath him, breathlessly begging him to stop. 

“What?” you laugh, trying to keep quiet. “I liked that part of the turn down service.”

He grins, the knowing smile of a pleased man who is well aware he did good. He leans in, putting his mouth by your ear. 

“Good to know. Maybe tomorrow the service will include it again.” He pulls back and winks, leaning back in to give you a quick, full kiss. 

“I wish I could stay, but I better get back to my room.”

“I know.”

“See you in the morning?” he asks, so soft and mussed and hopeful yet grown; his voice low and husky. His eyes are soft with affection, his unwavering gaze showing that he genuinely wants to make sure you’re okay before he leaves. 

His hand cradles the curve of your cheek, his thumb swiping along the line of your cheekbone and you tilt to press a kiss against the heel of it. Relief like you haven’t ever known floods through you, but more than that is what you feel underneath that earnest gaze. 

Safe, secure. In both yourself, and what you mean to him. 

“Yea. See you in the morning.”

He smiles, bending to place a delicate, warm kiss on your forehead. “Goodnight, baby.”

You sigh with contentment. 

“Goodnight, daddy.”

[bonefall]

.. opinions on wind runner? i feel like im one of the only ones that genuinely hates her sometimes

If you feel like the only one who genuinely hates her, I think you need to look around more. Wind Runner is a very widely disliked character, because she's often used within the story as a small antagonist who "threatens" the authority of Tall Shadow. Gray Wing dislikes her. Thunder is openly cat-racist to her. She spends several books trying to break through the moor cats' xenophobia to join a group that came to HER LAND.

Then, when Moth Flight is old enough to be a relevant character in Forest Divided, Wind Runner is turned into Yet Another mean mom the very moment Moth displays ADHD. She's contrasted to her mate Gorse Fur, who is a Soft And Good Dad, and ultimately MASSIVELY punished with the harrowing events of Moth Flight's Vision (even though, for most of that book, she's completely right.)

Ask yourself why they're especially harsh on WIND RUNNER for being mean to her child, in the arc with Tom the Fucking Wifebeater and his redemption death, plus Thunder being forced to stop being mad at his abuser Clear Sky, please.

To me, Wind Runner is an intense, ambitious woman who's demonized for it in a way that men just aren't. She's subject to several misogynistic trends within WC, plus a huge helping of xenophobia that goes absolutely unexamined. If DOTC cared at all about women, it would have treated her with the nuance she deserves.

Wind Runner is treated with nearly endless suspicion by Gray Wing through books 1 - 3, while he's bending over backwards to suck Clear Sky's toes.

Her wanting to join the group that came TO HER HOME and being a bit pushy about it earns a stronger reaction from Gray Wing than Clear Sky murdering people.

She's pressured into changing her name "to fit in," and it's still not enough. She wanted to join the group so bad she changed her name, at the request of the Mountain Cats, for a chance of being better accepted

This came after she'd already saved Jagged Peak's life when a burrow collapsed on him. She's plenty trustworthy.

She keeps doing shit to try and prove herself to this group of assholes. Remember Bumble being dragged back to her domestic abuser? Gray Wing interprets this as a power struggle, when WIND RUNNER WAS NOT EVEN PART OF THE GROUP AT THE TIME.

From Wind Runner's POV, she did something that the Moor cats wanted done. It was fucking evil. It was committing violence against another member of the out-group the cats see her as.

But who actually has the power here? Tall Shadow does.

Gray Wing said it himself that she could have come up with some excuse for Bumble to stay, and she didn't. In fact, any cat could have spoken up. No one did.

and still. STILL. Wind Runner gets nothing. Her reward is Gray Wing surmising that actually, her doing their sick dirtywork was a political move.

It's more consistent as a motivation with how Wind Runner wants to join their group. The thing she's been doing.

She only actually gets to join the group after Thunder starts publicly hurling slurs at her for suggesting they need to be ready for Clear Sky to attack them. "What do you know about peace? Last time I was here you were NOTHING BUT A ROGUE WITH A ROGUE'S NAME"

Gray Wing even starts purring when she gives birth, because her ambition goes away briefly and she "stops bossing everyone around." this is treated like a sweet thing. god forbid women retain their personalities when they have kids

She loses her first premature child to a seizure and Gray Wing starts proselytizing his religion to her. "Maybe it's a good thing your weakest child died because Jesus has them now" I want to beat him with a hammer

When her second child gets sick, Clear Sky has a bright idea that involves killing it. I refer to this as his "reverse leper colony" suggestion. He only develops a sense of humanity towards the sick when his brother's pregnant wife is in danger. Wind Runner and her kitten barely seem to clock as people to him.

It's only after her SECOND baby succumbs to a horrible, painful death that she decides the moor cats are assholes, and she goes to start her own group. It's LONG overdue. I was extremely excited to see it.

Now. Listen.

I've been treated just like Moth Flight before. I've practically heard the scolding in Book 6 Chapter 3 verbatim. I'm not downplaying anything about Wind Runner being harsh to her; being yelled at like that never fixed the problem.

What I'm saying is that this is the SAME arc that summons the hollowed-out ghost of Storm to coo that Clear Sky "never drove anyone away" with his abusive behavior and gives Tom the Wifebeater a heroic redemption death.

So why is the scolding from Wind Runner treated as unambiguously harsh? What's the difference between her and them?

Why is it that outside of this little bubble of the community, you can get buried in a flood of people crying about how "Clear Sky made Summisteaks Butt he thought it was the right thing :((( He feels bad about shoving Thunder's face in a weeping, pus-filled wound and trying to kill him :((((" but Wind Runner is mean about Moth Flight not catching a rabbit and she should be skinned alive

Why is WIND RUNNER held responsible for the death of Clear Sky's child in Moth Flight's Vision, WHEN IT WAS COMPLETELY HIS OWN FAULT??

So, why should I hate her? Because she's mean to the idiot protagonists? Because she's Yet Another Bad Mom whose actions ARE treated as Bad in the story, in the arc famous for openly weeping whenever someone's mad at their abusive dad?? When she has this whole horrific, unexamined story about how incredibly bigoted The Settlers are towards her and the extremes she goes to in order to please them?

I'm glad she's mean, actually. She should have been even meaner. I think she should have a gun

[makeyoumine69]

Guilty Pleasure

— PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x Fem!Reader

— SUMMARY: After you made a mistake in one of yours latest reports, Patrick Bateman — your boss — calls you to the meeting room to teach you a lesson.

— CONTAINS: Smut, Daddy kink, degradation, praising, dry humping, pet names, dirty talk, humiliation, nipple play/sucking, hair hulling, biting, spanking, marking.

— WORDS: 1.2k

— A/N: Sorry, I had to repost this fic due to this situation. More information about my writing challenge you can find here.

— LINKS: [MASTERLIST]; [2k CELEBRATION MASTERLIST]

Your heart was beating like a ticking bomb inside your chest as you made your way to the conference room where your big boss — Patrick Bateman — was waiting for you. You had no other choice but to comply, even though you didn't want to go. Tense, yet annoyed, you turned the last corner and saw a small group of yuppies whose arrogant expressions made you sick. Although you tried to ignore the way one of them looked at you — Timothy Bryce as far as you could remember — something heavy dropped in your gut, you hated that kind of attitude, so you had to bite your tongue and open the door to the meeting room.

As soon as you stepped inside, you noticed Patrick sitting at the large wooden table across from the entrance, wearing his favorite black pinstripe suit with red tie and Oliver Peoples O'Malley glasses.

"You're late." He muttered, not even bothering to look at you as he flipped through a folder of documents.

"No, I'm not! You asked me to come at eleven."

Only then did he deign to glance at you — his piercing gaze instantly sent shivers down your spine. "11 o'clock was 10 minutes ago, darling."

Damn it!

A sharp breath escaped your lips as you checked your watch and realized that he was right. "I'm sorry, sir."

Bateman couldn't help but grin with satisfaction and put the folder aside, tapping his long fingers on the table surface. "Do you know why you're here?"

Embarrassed, you looked down for a second, unable to bear the way he was staring at you. "Actually, no."

His low hum bounced off the walls of the meeting room, and now you could finally admit to yourself that you were so damn nervous and even scared, but you couldn't show it to him. After all, you needed this job, you'd already done so much to get the chance to work at P&P, you couldn't let it all end like this.

"I wanted to talk to you about the last report you did for me," Patrick beckoned you with a soft smile, and you could swear that this jerk was enjoying every second of this situation, almost like having the power over you was his personal kink. "I think I found a mistake that is quite serious."

"That can't be," you gasped, moving toward his seat. "I've double-checked everything so many times and—"

"Hey, it's all right," he cut you off, watching you come closer and shamelessly checking out your legs. "Mmm, this skirt is better than your previous ones, but it's still not short enough."

Scowling, you took a deep breath to not just punch him right in his perfect face and just leave.

"C'mon, have a seat." He playfully motioned to his knee, but you pretended not to understand his gesture and tried to sit on the chair nearby. That annoyed him slightly, so he grabbed you by your hips and forced you to sit on his lap. "Are you testing me, babydoll?"

His large palm was already tracing invisible patterns along your breasts through your silk blouse, not even giving you a chance to protest. Taking advantage of your shock, he nipped at your neck, leaving a few hickeys that made you squeal.

"Mr. Bateman!"

"Shush," he growled in a raspy voice, quickly positioning you in a way that made you face him, and his knee was right between your thighs. "Do you want the whole office to know what a slut you are? If I remember correctly, you care about your job."

Smirking, he watched you close your eyes in embarrassment and pulled up the hem of your skirt to squeeze your ass. The cold metal of his Rolex brushed against your skin, making you gasp, and he used the moment to kiss you hard on the lips. He plugged his warm tongue in and your mouth and you immediately squeaked against his lips.

"Ahh, look at you," Bateman crooned sweetly, drawing a long, wet line across your face. "Such a dirty little whore! You like it when Daddy plays rough with you, huh?"

Panting, you whimpered as he tugged on your hair to make you look at him. "Yes, Daddy...I l-love everything you do to me."

"Ohh, is that so?" He chuckled and unbuttoned your blouse so he could slide his hand inside to play with one of your swollen nipples. "Now be a good girl and prove it to me."

God, everything was too much, his hoarse voice sent shivers down your spine, and not to mention the way his skilled fingers twisted your little tip, pinching it a bit too tightly, but that only spurred your pussy to pulsate even more. You let him pull you into another kiss, his lips moving greedily against yours, and you didn't even notice that you were starting to grind against his thigh, your throbbing clit rubbing against the expensive fabric of his pants, increasing the tingling in your lower abdomen.

"Mmmhm, Daddy," you clang desperately at his strong biceps through his suit, causing him to grunt in response. "Someone can see us."

"Then be quiet," Patrick licked your neck and groped your hips, forcing you to move faster. "I'm going to rip your panties off and fuck you right here if you don't cum soon."

Holy shit.

You wanted to cry at the strength which he held your thighs, pinning you to his lap and twisting your taut nipples one by one until he took one of them into his mouth.

"Aww!" You yelped quietly as he bit your peak with his sharp teeth. "I'm so… I'm s-so close… mhmm…!"

Wrapping your hands around his neck, you surrendered to his power, letting the delightful rapture consume you completely as your soft inner walls began to clench around nothing. When Bateman noticed the way you were twitching, he squeezed your hips even harder, pressing you close to his firm body as you couldn't stop shaking. You thought you would bite your lips so hard till the point of drawing blood, but Bateman stopped you by pushing his thumb inside your warm mouth, and you sucked on it as if your life depended on it.

"Yes. Just like that," he cooed to you, unable to take his eyes off your shivering body. "You make Daddy so proud."

With that, he slapped your ass and stood up, holding you in his arms. Gently, he placed you on the table and spread your legs to admire the view of your soaked pussy. He then roughly pulled down your panties — you didn't have the strength or courage to resist.

"Imagine if someone came in and saw me eating you out," he snickered, giving your cunt a quick slap that made you whimper and flinch from the overstimulation. Smugly, Patrick adjusted his pants and hid your wet underwear in the pocket of his suit. "I bet you want this."

The voices behind the door only grew louder, but you couldn't hear them because your own heartbeat drowned out all sounds. If you ended up losing your job, at least you would know who was to blame, and one day you would take your revenge, one way or another.

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

[alien-slushie]

Hazbin Hotel/Angel Dust AU that I can't stop thinking about! This is not completely thought out, kinda just jumbled thought threads.

Warning: The usual stuff that's talked about/discussed/implied when it comes to Angel Dust's line of work

Takes place years before before Charlie Opens the hotel but the timeline isn't super important other than that.

Another extermination has come and gone and Angel Dust is expecting another grueling year trapped under Valintino's thumb, with a higher probability of it sucking even more since the sleez has solidified himself as an overlord. But then, he gets to the studio and Valintino is nowhere to be found. That's not nessicarrily an odd thing, the stronger Valintino got the less he showed up. But then the news spreads; Valintino got extermated.

Valintino is gone and dead, meaning Angel's contract is null and void. And Angel...Angel doesn't know what to do. He's worked for Valintino for so long, and sure he hated the dick but he never expected that he would actually be free. What did he do now? What could he do now?

He still needed a job, money, to take care of himslef so he wouldn't end up exterminated next year, so he stuck to stripping and porn(maybe a few singing gigs if he could get them), it's kinda all he knew in terms of making money, and no way in Hell(pun intended) was he going to crawl back to his father. Luckily he had Cherri to rely a bit on, so he wasn't completely alone in such a sudden change. He refused to sign another contract, but because he was still so well known the people he worked with were fine with that as long as they got a taste of the business Angel brought in.

Things changed when he saw a John getting handsy and aggressive with another demon, and stepped in. He didn't need to step in, but seeing the demon getting ab*sed and hurt like he used to snapped something in him. From then on, Whever he saw something like that happen, Angel would step in, even if he had to shoot up the f*ckers.

Before long he was known for more than just a Pornstar, he made a name for himself as the Pornstar who took care of others in the buisness, and soon demons were coming to him. They wanted his protection, even willing to sign a contract to him.

At first, Angel was vehemently against it. He didn't want to be like Val and dealing in sould never sounded all that interesting to him. But, eventually, after one too many demons came to him bruised up, and beaten, he agreed. His contracts were pretty simple, he got a percentage of their earnings, not a lot mind you, like 10-20%, and in exchange he'd beat the shit out of anyone that tried to hurt them. Biggest of all, they could pull out of the contract whenever they wanted, and If he hurt them, the contract would immediately be void.

When word got out that Angel was taking contracts, more and more s*x workers came in droves.

His own income, on top of what he got from the contracts, allowed Angel to buy an entire apartment building, which many of his contractors took up residence in. From rent and working hard Angel was able to buy Val's old studio, gut it, burn it down, and rebuild it from the brimstone up! He started making his own movies(P*rn and nonp*rn alike) in the studio and more people would come, wanting fame and fortune.

Slowly, Angel was started building his own territory, filling the power gap that Val left, except stronger since his employees actually liked him.

After years of hard work, and shooting *ssholes, Angel became an Overlord.

Basically:

-Angel Dust pulling himself up and protecting others in the industry from what he went through

-Slow Burn Angel unintentionally becoming an Overlord(Maybe making a pact with Cherri and them working together similarly to the Vees' situation?)

-Angel is a good boss and people love working with/for him

-Angel still works in porn and such, but hes calling the shots now, and even acts in nonporny stuff because he loves acting, singing, and dancing(love a Creative King)

-Eventually Charlie does seek Angel out to be her first patron to the Happy/Hazbin Hotel. Since he already has a reputation for protecting those under him, she thought he'd be the best option, and his position as a Overlord is also a big selling point.

-Angel also having a preexisting connection to Alastor and/or Husk sounds hilarious

[jinx-xxed]

Mission Gone Wrong

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*

A/N; Coming back to retry this one after I abandoned the idea months ago :’) got some random motivation!! Also gonna preface this by saying I did in fact make up the first planet <3

Art credit to @/KasiopeaArt

Summary; Your mission for the resistance goes south, so you and Ben have to find a way to escape the First Order.

Content; Jedi/resistance AU, Ben Solo never turned AU, Jedi reader, Jedi Ben, running from the space cops, reader gets injured, Ben patches you up, saving two kids, Ben has the Solo Sass™️, piloting the Falcon :), Jedi rules be damned I’m gonna make them kiss, Ben’s family dynamic, Ben’s a mama’s boy, his parents love you, fun shenanigans, fluff

Wc; 7k

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*

“Stop! In the name of the First Order!”

The sun blazes above you, the sky a perfect blue with no clouds in sight—a contrast to the chaos happening below. The pound of your boots against cobblestone and the rapid beating of your heart fills your ears. Your breath comes in short, quick pants, your lungs burning as you try to suck in air while you run. The crowded streets of the Sandura trader outpost don’t make it easy. You dodge and weave between civilians, shouting excuse me’s and sorry’s every other second; you know that more than a few of them cuss you out in native tongues you don’t quite understand.

You spare a glance to your right, making sure that Ben is still keeping up. You’ve always been faster than him, more agile and lithe, so you have to be mindful that you don’t leave him behind. But you have no reason to worry because he’s right there with you, running just as quick from your pursuers. You can hear the heavy, plastic clanks of the Stormtrooper armor that slows them down as they chase after you. They’re too close for it to be comfortable but luckily the streets have too many civilians packed in them that they aren’t stupid enough to open fire.

Or so you’d think. With all of the commotion, people naturally move out of the way. They tuck into corners, squeeze under shop awnings, innocently clearing the path so they don’t get trampled. In doing so, they make you an easy target. You yelp as the first blaster shot is fired, wizzing right past your head and finding purchase in the corner of a building you run past.

“This is not how this was supposed to go!” Ben shouts, sweat trailing down the side of his face. His Jedi robes flutter behind him with his movements, both of your cloaks that were meant to conceal you long lost and forgotten.

“You think?!” You yell back, teeth gritting together from your annoyance. This mission was supposed to be simple. It was supposed to be easy. You were just going to set up a fuel trade with one of the bosses stationed in the outpost, pick up some extra ship parts on the way since stocks are running low. You have those at least, they slam into your side with every step you take as the bag you carry jostles about. The fuel tanks on the other hand…

The boss you had been meeting with, Kaijat, turned out to be a slimy two-facer who sold you out to the ones who offered him more credits. That naturally happened to be the First Order, their desire to eradicate the Jedi and the Resistance knowing no bounds. You and Ben had barely escaped from Kaijat’s facility before Stormtroopers circled the whole place, trying to trap you inside and imprison you. Your lightsabers had come in handy. You cursed yourself over and over for not being able to tell Kaijat’s true intentions, for not being able to see how he was going to betray you. You’d made deals with him before, you thought it would be fine. You should’ve known better—nobody can be trusted for very long anymore, if at all.

You’re ripped from your thoughts by searing pain in your left arm, a choked and startled yell coming from your throat as your running falters. A blaster shot went clean through, cutting about an inch into your shoulder. The outer layers are automatically cauterized but the deeper layers begin to bleed generously, crimson running down your skin and staining the whites of your robes. There’s a feeling of worry that blossoms at the forefront of your mind, and you know that it’s Ben with the way he shouts your name. Your bond connects you in a way that allows you to feel what the other feels, see what the other sees. You reassure him through that bond that you’re fine. You’ve had worse.

You channel your pain to your fingertips, calling the Force to you as you abruptly stop and turn. You use the Force like a second set of hands, digging its fingers into the cobblestone and cement below you, ripping it up and curving it into a sort of wall to create an obstacle that’ll buy you more time. You’ve always been more attuned to the physical aspects of the Force, using the objects and earth around you to your advantage. Ben is much better with the psychological aspects, easily being able to see into the thoughts and feelings of anyone he desires. That’s why you make such a great pair.

You both keep running, not wasting a second of the time that distraction has given you. Though you don’t look back, you know the Stormtroopers are already squeezing around the wall you made. You can tell by the way their blasters keep firing.

“This way!” You say, grabbing Ben and making a sharp left. You skid against the ground from your speed, accidentally banging your injured shoulder into the wall and leaving a smear of blood. You try to ignore the wave of nausea.

The new path seems promising, perhaps even having a way out of the outpost. Until you see the wall ahead begin to close in and you curse more than a few times. “No, no, no! Shit!” You snap. You and Ben slow your pace, coming upon a dead end. A death sentence. You beat a fist against the brick like that’ll do anything while Ben runs his hands along it like there’s a secret button you’re missing that’ll magically open it up. There’s nobody else around, nowhere to hide. Nowhere to go. You look up, trying to calculate how difficult it’d be to just scale the damn thing. There’s barely any footholds so you’d most likely just slip and bust your ass. Your hand begins to reach towards your lightsaber as the sounds of the Stormtroopers get nearer.

“Hey! Jedi! Over here!” A voice whisper shouts to you. You whirl around, searching for it. Ben does the same. “Look down!”

You do what it says and see a manhole cover lifted up by tiny hands, an equally tiny face poking out from between the gap. It’s a child, a young girl. “Follow me! They won’t find you down here!” She urges. The shouts and footsteps are getting closer. “Come on!”

You don’t give yourself a second to hesitate, forcing Ben along with you. You’re already in deep shit, you don’t think this’ll make it any worse. You both jump down into the manhole, the kid then dragging the cover back to its original resting spot so that anyone above ground is none the wiser. Just in time too, because you hear the Stormtroopers just above you, entering into that alley you were trapped in seconds before.

Looking around, you’re surprised by what you see. Somebody’s made a comfy living space of underground tunnels, outfitted with mismatching furniture like couches and chairs and tables, scraps of rugs and carpet covering the stone floors, pieces of drapes and paper clippings glued to the walls. There’s cozy lights strung along the seams of the curved ceiling, bathing the tunnels in a warm glow.

“What is this?” Ben mutters, eyes going every which way just like yours.

“Welcome to the tunnels of Sandura! Or home, as we like to call it.” The little girl from before is in front of you now, a big smile on her face. She looks to be eight. Her brown hair is messy and sticks up in all different directions, her face has smears of soot on it that hides her freckles, and her abnormally green eyes shimmer with childlike mischief. Her clothes are torn at their edges, like they’ve been worn generously or found in a trash heap.

You lift a brow. “We?”

The girl turns to shout down the tunnels. “Shamar!” There’s a pause and then the sound of little footsteps before a boy appears, looking to be only a year or two younger than the girl. You can see in their faces how they’re related, same round cheeks and pointed ears and sloped eyes. Their differences lie in the boy’s black hair, though it’s just as messy as his sister’s, and in his blue eyes.

“This is Shamar, my younger brother. I’m Almae. We’ve been living in these tunnels for years.” She says it proudly. You can tell the boy is the more nervous one of the pair as he looks you and Ben over with scrutiny. He hangs farther back, letting his sister lead the charge.

“Where’s your parents?” You can’t help but ask. You don’t sense any other life forms within the tunnels save for some rats maybe, but no people.

“They’ve been gone for a while. It’s just us now.” Shamar says it like it’s the simplest thing in the world.

Ben’s eyes narrow. He’s always so skeptical, you can feel his suspicion through your bond like it’s your own. “Why’d you save us?”

“We don’t like the First Order none, either. We know you Jedi folk, you go around the galaxy helping people and such.” Almae says, nodding to herself. “So we wanted to ask you to help us. We’ll take you through the tunnels and get you out of the city as long as you promise to take us back with ya.”

You’ll admit that’s not exactly what you expected. What you did expect was for them to ask for credits or ship parts they could resell, it’s what everybody’s after these days. That’s why you don’t like going on missions very much, you have a bad habit of coming back with empty pockets. At least when Ben joins you, he keeps that from happening.

“How do we know you’re not going to sell us out?” Ben demands, immediately going on the defensive from already being double-crossed once today.

You tug on his sleeve, pulling him to the side. “Ben, relax. They’re children.” You whisper.

“Children can still be convinced with the right amount of credits.” He retorts. “I’m trying to not get us captured.”

You roll your eyes. “I appreciate it, but read the two of them. Do they seem malicious to you?”

He hesitates, looking back at the siblings. You feel how his Force reaches out, roaming over their minds in a way that’ll leave them none the wiser. Through your bond, you’re able to get what he’s sensing. There’s no secret motive, no evil desire. It’s just hope, anticipation, and a desire for freedom, for something more than this. They just want out, they want to get away from the back-breaking jobs they had to take to scrape by, from the adults who yell at them for doing something wrong. They want to get away from always having to steal their next meal and living in the dark of the tunnels where they can’t see the sky. You feel a strong pang of sympathy in your chest, and you know Ben experiences the same.

You turn towards the kids, you crouch down to their level. Shamar shies away behind his sister, still eyeing you suspiciously. Good instincts on him. You hold out your pinky. “You pinky promise you’ll get us out of here?”

Almae grins, interlocking her little pinky with yours. “Pinky promise!”

“Alright,” you smile, “lead the way.”

Almae squeals. “Shamar! Go get your bag!” She tells her brother, shoving him towards one of the offshoot tunnels. Their bedroom, if you had to guess.

“I hope we don’t regret this.” Ben mutters once they’re gone, arms crossed over his chest.

“C’mon, they’re so cute.” You tease, nudging him. “How could we say no?” There’s a quirk of a smile from him and you know you’ve won. You always do.

Shamar and Almae come hurrying back a minute later, each with a heavy satchel slung over their shoulders. They’re full of any belongings they feel they can’t leave behind, like mementos from their parents, books, little trinkets and toys, and a few pairs of clothes. Everything else will stay behind in the tunnels, waiting for the next person to discover.

“Let’s go!” Almae says excitedly. You give her a nod, telling her to go ahead. She grabs her brothers hand and begins to walk, you and Ben following dutifully behind.

The further you get from the main living space, the darker it becomes. There’s the occasional overhead light or cracks in the foundation above luckily making your path more visible. The kids seem to know exactly where they’re going, probably traveling these tunnels hundreds of times over and using them to escape from the authorities trying to capture them for stealing. You admire their resourcefulness, even though kids shouldn’t have to live this way.

“How’s your arm?” Ben mutters to you after a while of walking in silence.

The pain had dulled, instead becoming a constant throbbing you could ignore. You’d basically forgotten about it. “I’m fine. I’ll patch it up when we get back to the Falcon.”

“Are you sure?” He presses. “I don’t want you passing out on me again.”

You groan. “That was only one time!” You laugh at the memory, even though it definitely wasn’t funny for Ben. You can tell by the way he scowls. It’d been an exploratory mission, scoping out a new planet and seeing what the resistance could make of it. You’d gotten yourself injured by one of the creatures inhabiting it and you’d brushed off your wounds until you’d passed out from blood loss. Ben had nearly had a heart attack, then having to drag your body over rough terrain and back to the ship. You’d done his chores back at Luke’s academy for a month to apologize. Besides that, he’s always been so concerned about you, acting like a mother hen with the way he frets. You certainly don’t do him any favors by constantly diving headfirst into danger. “I’m fine, I promise. You’ll be the first to know if I start feeling lightheaded.”

The siblings take a final left before Almae is shouting back at you because you’d fallen a bit behind. “We’re here! Come on, slow pokes!”

You hurry along, coming to a ladder that leads all the way up to another manhole cover. Almae climbs first with Ben right behind in case there’s danger above ground. Shamar follows, and you bring up the rear. The cover is shoved aside by Almae, the thing screeching in protest, and you have to squint your eyes as unfiltered sunlight pours in to the dark tunnels. The others climb out and you don’t hear any shouts of Stormtroopers or blasters going off so you assume it’s safe. Ben gives you a hand to help you and you gladly take it to relieve your bad arm of the strain.

Coming out of the tunnels, you immediately look around to get your bearings. It seems the path you followed brought you right to the outer border of the outpost, the wall of it standing tall directly behind you. In front of you stretches the lush jungle forest that makes Sandura what it is. The trees stretch to the skies, covered in moss and lichen, animals of all kinds roaming freely amongst the leaves above and underbrush below. Within that forest is where the Millennium Falcon waits for you, and that’s where you now head.

You and Ben take the lead this time, keeping the two kids between you to both protect them and keep an eye on them. You follow the invisible string of the Force that connects you to the Falcon, helping you find it within the massive jungle. You’d parked the ship far, far from the outpost, away from any sensors or prying eyes. It was common practice for people like you, to trek practically halfway across a planet because you couldn’t risk your ship being spotted. Especially something like Han Solo’s Falcon, just about everyone in the galaxy knew about that thing. The only reason Ben’s father had allowed you to use it today was the premise of getting in and out fast, something his ship was an expert in. Ben had sat through a multitude of rules and threats from Han, something that happened any time he was allowed to use his father’s ship. Ben swore up and down that Han loved the Falcon more than him, and sometimes you couldn’t help but think he’s right.

Honestly, you can’t blame Han either as you come upon the ship tucked into the forest. It really is a gorgeous piece of work; it looks at home between the vibrant greens of the bushes and trees. It’s huge, and the dappled sunlight reflects beautifully off its shiny silver exterior. Han takes such good care of it nowadays, showing it more attention as both of them have climbed in age. There’s not a scratch or dent on it, not a wire or panel out of place. You can’t recall how many conversations you’ve had with Han about the Millennium Falcon, how many hours you’ve spent talking and talking about all the intricacies of the ship—even when Ben would beg you to stop so he wouldn’t have to listen to his father drone on anymore. You’ve loved flight crafts ever since you were a child, there’s always something new to learn and they feel so powerful under your hands. You take to tinkering with your X-wing whenever you have free time, seeing what you can possibly improve and fix. You and Ben are some of the best pilots to come out of the Jedi academy, even rivaling Poe who’s more than happy to challenge either of you.

It seems Almae and Shamar share in your awe of the Falcon, both of their heads tilting all the way back to try and take in the whole thing. It’s impossible, you know that because you did the same when you were a kid seeing it for the first time. Even now in your late twenties, you’re still finding out new things about the ship.

“I didn’t know they were this big!” Almae exclaims, immediately running beneath the kickstands holding up the ship, twisting her body every which way in an attempt to look at it all with wide eyes.

“You’ll see much bigger ones when we get back to base.” Ben tells them, hitting the button to lower to ramp. “Come on.”

The siblings don’t hesitate to rush past him into the ship and you laugh as pure fear crosses over his face. “Don’t touch anything!” He shouts after them, hurrying the rest of the way inside. You follow behind, doing him a favor and shutting the ramp since he’s busy corralling two kids as they try to run this way and that. More laughter bubbles out of you and tears prick your eyes while you watch him, your poor, dear Ben so frazzled by a pair of children.

He finally gets them to sit down on the main couch that’s curved against the wall, then tightly securing the seatbelts over them so they can’t escape. Almae and Shamar pout. “That’s not going to work on me.” Ben tells them sternly. “I’m not risking my dad tearing me a new one because you two want to go exploring. Now just sit there and… I don’t know, play dejarik or something.” He clicks on the table in front of the couch, the holographic board game coming to life.

“You think they’ll know anything about that game? I can’t even understand it.” You mutter to him as you head towards the cockpit. The kids seem fascinated enough by the moving creatures at least.

“I know, it makes it very easy for me to beat you.” He says with a knowing smirk. You punch his shoulder.

There’s a familiar beeping and the sound of rolling metal as your droid, BB-3, comes from around the corner. You had left him behind in the ship both to avoid obvious suspicion and so that he could keep a robotic eye on it. “Hey buddy, you miss me?” You say affectionately, crouching down to run a hand along the top of his head. You love your droid, he’s been with you for years after you’d found him stuck in a garbage chute on some nowhere planet where he was going to be scrapped for parts. You cleaned him up and he’s never left your side since.

He notices the injury on your arm, one of his compartments opening to reveal the spare medical supplies you keep inside him in case of an emergency. You smile. “Aw, thanks bud but I’ll patch myself up in a bit. We need to get out of here first.” He beeps at you, rolling back and forth once.

He follows you to the cockpit where Ben’s already waiting, flipping switches and pressing buttons that have the Falcon roaring to life. You hear the kids shouts of excitement as everything powers on. “They’re fun.” You say with a laugh as you sink into the copilot’s chair.

“Uh huh.” Ben mutters. He grips the controls in his big hands, steadying the ship as it lifts off the ground. He keeps it low until you’re even farther from the outpost, not wanting to risk anything after you’d already been chased by Stormtroopers. They’ll be looking for you, for the Falcon. Once he thinks it’s safe, he brings the ship up, up, up into the atmosphere while you prepare the hyperdrive without him even having to ask. You’ve flown together enough times to know the sequence. You’ll jump to hyperspace in order to get away from Sandura, and then travel normally the rest of the way back to D’Qar in order to not blow all the fuel reserves.

You grip the chair under you as space around the viewport begins to blur, turning different shades of blue and white. You both get pushed back into your seats when the ship successfully makes the jump, speeding across the galaxy.

“What’s all that?”

You and Ben startle at the sound of the voice, turning to see Shamar peering at the control panel from between your chairs. “How did you- where’s your sister?” Ben demands, struggling to look at the kid and also keep his focus on controlling the Falcon.

Shamar shrugs. “I dunno, looking at some turret type thing.”

You and Ben both look at each other with wide, fearful eyes. The laser cannons. You’re out of your seat immediately, running across the ship and into the sectioned off compartment that houses the guns. Almae is indeed in there, about to touch the controls before you lift her by the armpits and yank her out of the chair. She yells in protest, thrashing her arms about. She manages to wheel back a fist that smacks your open wound, making you hiss and nearly drop her from the wave of nausea and pain you get. You set her roughly on the ground, your free hand coming up to clasp your injury as you wince. You feel fresh blood on your palm.

Almae instantly stops, body language changing as guilt sweeps over her. “I’m.. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. You- you just startled me is all. I just wanted to look around.” Her eyes are so big, so scared. “Please don’t take us back! I didn’t mean to hit ya, I swear!”

You can practically taste her fear on your tongue from how much it swells, how obvious it is across the Force. She truly thinks you’d take her and her brother back to Sandura and turn them in, leave them to sit in a jail all over again. You sigh, using your breathing to get past the pain. You guide her back to the main room where Sharma is waiting, sitting her down on the couch. She’s crying, small body shuttering as she sniffles.

“Hey, hey, listen to me.” You say softly, trying to get that strong girl you saw before to come back. She seems to calm a bit when she realizes you’re not angry, finally meeting your gaze. “It’s okay. But we told you not to move from these seats, that was for your own safety and ours. If you messed with something you shouldn’t have, it could’ve gotten us detected by the First Order or messed with the ship. We brought you both here to help you so we expect you to respect us and follow the rules we give you, alright?” You’re honest with her, but not cruel. You know that’s what children need to be able to understand, and Almae seems to get it. She nods, wiping stubbornly at her tears with a fist.

“M’sorry.” She mumbles. “I really didn’t mean it.”

“I know you didn’t. It’s okay, Almae. You’re not in trouble. We’re not going to take you back.” You say, putting a comforting hand on her head. Besides, doing that would only get your own selves arrested. “You’ll get a tour of the Falcon sometime later, I promise.” She perks up at the sound of that, nodding. You buckle her and her brother in a second time and they seem like they won’t be making any moves to escape again.

BB-3 beeps at you when you turn around, concerned by the new blood on your arm. “Yeah, yeah, I got it.” You mutter, going to plop yourself onto one of the bunks built into the wall, a heavy sigh leaving you. It’s time to finally patch yourself up, you suppose. The Falcon shudders as it comes out of hyperspace and you feel some tension release from your muscles. You’re grateful nothing decided to chase after you from Sandura.

You take one of the med kits and settle it next to you, popping it open and grabbing what you’ll need. Wipes, anti-bacterial, gauze. From BB-3 you take your small canister of bacta, something you keep hidden because of how precious it is. You begin to try and clean yourself of your blood, finding it a little difficult because of the angle. You run through more than a few wipes, leaving them stained red and scattered around you.

You’re about to try and apply the anti-bacterial before a large, warm hand encompasses yours. You look up to see Ben leaning over you, your eyes meeting. “Let me do it.” He says softly. Your faces are so close you can’t help but reach forward and kiss the corner of his mouth, making him smile. You always love his smile, the way his dimples show.

“I can handle it, Ben.” You say with a good-natured huff. “Don’t you have to go pilot?”

“It’s on auto. You’ve always sucked at bandaging injuries, just let me.” He insists. You roll your eyes, slapping the anti-bacterial into his waiting, open palm. Amusement twinkles in his eyes because he knows you always end up giving in. It’s true, you do suck at bandaging injuries because your hands aren’t careful enough for it, nor are you meticulous enough. You only are when it comes to a ship, something you can’t kill. Ben has always been more of the medic between the two of you—he has to be with the way you are—always taking such care when it comes to you.

He sits next to you on the bunk, making you scoot over to accommodate his huge frame. When cleaning your wound, he becomes so concentrated, his brows furrowing in the way you like with a slight crease to the side of his mouth. You wince as the anti-bacterial stings and he mutters out an apology, too focused for anything else. You know he’ll give you plenty of kisses for it later though, he always does. Ben coats the strips of gauze in bacta and then wraps them around your arm, not too tight and not too loose. Perfect, just like his dressings always are.

As you suspected, he takes you into his arms and kisses you plenty once he’s done. Your cheeks, your nose, your lips. He’s generous in his attention and love, the happy and gentle emotions filtering through your bond to match. It has you smiling like an idiot. When he’s satisfied, he lays back in the bunk, sitting against the wall with you between his legs. That’s when it hits you both, how tired you are. All the fighting and running, all the stress and anger, and now bringing along two kids. You look over and find the siblings asleep in their seats, heads lolling to the side. You want to follow them, want to just fall asleep in Ben’s lap. He’s so warm, and his robes are so comfortable. Easy to wrap yourself in and ignore the outside world.

But you know you can’t, you have to stay alert in case something happens, and Ben will have to get back to piloting soon. So you settle for sitting there and enjoying the way he holds you, because that’s always been more than enough.

» ☆ «

You must’ve dozed off despite your efforts because when your eyes are opening again, Ben is gone and you can feel that the Falcon is being lowered to the ground with the way it shakes and the sounds of it powering down. You sit up with a small grumble, wiping sleep from your eyes. Your legs ache in protest when you stand, exhaustion still weighing heavy on your body.

Almae and Shamar are up now too, shaking in their seats from excitement. Ben appears from the cockpit, having successfully parked and turned off the ship. He comes over to you, brushing some of your tussled hair from your forehead. “Did you sleep well?” He teases. You have half the mind to punch him again.

You settle for sticking your tongue out instead, then brushing past him to release the kids. You unbuckle their seatbelts and they immediately jump off the couch, clutching their bags against themselves. “I want you two to stick close to me, okay? There’s going to be a lot of new people and things to see. I don’t want you to get lost.” You say, holding your hands out so the kids take them. You’re glad when they oblige you, their tiny hands fitting snugly into yours.

Ben leads the way, once again pressing that button to release the ramp hatch. As it lowers, bright sunlight filters in and the fresh, damp air of D’Qar fills your nostrils.

There’s a crowd of people waiting when you exit the ship—resistance pilots welcoming you back, engineers already inspecting for repairs, captains and generals waiting for reports. It’s nothing unusual, it’s something that happens just about every time you two make a return. The rebellion hold the Jedi in such high regard that they always have to get some sort of glimpse of you, to see what you’ve been able to accomplish. You were right in taking Almae and Shamar’s hands because you can feel the way they startle and tense, too many sights and sounds coming at them. They shy away from the crowd, instead trying to hide behind you and BB-3 where it’s safe.

People begin to disperse within the minute, most having seen what they needed to see—that the two Jedi made it back alive. The rest of them part when the general comes through, her familiar gold-plated companion right behind her. Ben’s attention immediately shifts, and you smile knowingly.

“Welcome home, son.” Leia says fondly, having to reach up to cup Ben’s cheek in a weathered hand even after he tries to lean down for her. She tucks a strand of his black hair behind his big ears out of habit, even though he hates it. He’s always been self conscious about his ears despite how much you love them.

He huffs. “Thanks, mom.”

She chuckles, looking around him to greet you as well. You dip your head towards her with respect. “So, how did things go?” She asks.

You wince. “Well…”

“Kaijat betrayed us. He sold us out to the First Order, we almost got captured.” Ben’s words are blunt, his expression stony. He always gets that way when giving a mission report; he learned from his mother.

Leia curses under her breath. She seems troubled for only a moment before it disappears, a sigh leaving her. She’s always so put together, something you’ve admired about her ever since you were a kid. “There goes that, then. Did you manage to get anything? Were either of you hurt? Were you followed?”

“I got some of the ship repair parts you were wanting.” You say, motioning to the satchel you have slung over your shoulder. “I got shot in the arm, but it’s nothing too bad. Ben patched me up, of course.” Leia nods along with that, a twinkle in her eye, knowing exactly how her son takes care of you.

“And no, we weren’t followed. It’s all thanks to these two that we were able to escape.” You pull the siblings out from behind you, then holding them against you so they don’t scamper off. “It’s okay, guys. This is Leia, Ben’s mom and the leader of the resistance. She’s a powerful lady.”

Leia smiles, immediately softening. “And who are you?” She asks, trying to meet their eye level as best she can.

The kids are clearly too stunned to speak, making you laugh. It’s a big difference from how they were when you first met them. “C’mon, it’s alright. Introduce yourselves.” You whisper.

“I- I’m Almae and… and this is Shamar, my little brother.” Almae says, swallowing down her fear.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Almae.” Leia says, holding out a hand for her to shake. Almae hesitates for just a second before breaking into a smile and taking the hand. Leia does the same for her brother. “And Shamar. Now tell me, how’d you save these two delinquents of mine?” Ben rolls his eyes.

“We lived in the tunnels at Sandura, ya see, and the First Order had been there for a while. We don’t like them none, they’re all hoity toity and mean. They almost got us a few times when we were trying to get food.” Almae says, more than happy to launch into a story. She becomes much more open and expressive as she talks. “So we hear all this commotion above us one mornin’, all this shoutin’ and stompin’. I go to try and see what it is and it’s a pair of Jedi! They were running from the Order so I figured I’d help ‘em escape when they got stuck. We went through the tunnels and those stupid Troopers had no idea. Then the nice lady let us on the big ship. The big guy was kinda mean though.”

Ben glowers. “Why you-“

You smack a hand against his chest and he grumbles, crossing his arms. Leia laughs. “Well, aren’t you two brave? I have to thank you for saving the both of them. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to them.” She says earnestly. There’s a warm feeling that builds in your chest from her words, and you know Ben experiences the same. “I think you’ll fit right in here.”

“Really? We get to stay?” Sharma says, big eyes hopeful.

“Of course you do. We have a place for children just like you where it’s safe. C-3PO, give them a little tour of the place, will you? I’ll come find you in a bit.” Leia says, turning to the droid who’d been happily engaging in some type of conversation with BB-3.

“Oh, certainly general.” He teeters forward on his stiff legs, waving his arms at the kids. Almae looks overjoyed. You can already tell she has the heart of a mechanic in her, just like you. “Pleasure to meet you, I am C-3PO, human-cyborg relations. Please, follow me this way.”

The kids seem hesitant, instinctively looking back at you. You smile. “Go on. It’s safe here, everyone’s a friend. Just make sure to stay with the droid so you don’t get lost, okay?” You lean in to whisper, “and ask him stupid questions. He loves those.” The siblings grin impishly at you.

“You’ll come visit us, won’t you?” Shamar asks, tugging on the hem of your robes.

“Yeah, of course we will. Once you get all settled.” You promise, patting him on the back. You watch as they hurry to catch up to C-3PO; it wasn’t too hard, he doesn’t move all that fast.

“They’ll have to be transferred to one of our more remote civilization bases. This one is too dangerous and open to have children on it.” Leia says once they’re gone, both hands resting on her cane.

You sigh. “I figured. I just didn’t have the heart to tell them.” Ben’s hand finds yours, a small comfort.

“There you are!”

All three of you jolt at the sound of Han’s voice as he comes up to you with long strides, Chewie right behind him. “I was wondering when you’d come back with her.” He says to Ben, meaning the Millennium Falcon. “No issues with her, right?”

Ben sighs, automatically knowing what his father would say to him. “No, dad. Nothing happened to your precious ship.”

Han nods. “Good. Chewie and I are gonna head out for a bit. We’ll keep in touch.”

“Sure you will.” Leia mutters.

Han is about to walk up the ramp past you when he stops. “Hey, kid.”

“Hey, Han.”

“How ya been?”

You shrug. “I’ve been alright. Doing the usual.”

He nods again. “Good to hear. I’ll see ya later.” He points at Ben. “Keep that boy out of trouble.”

You can’t help the small smile on your face. Ben’s parents accepted the fact that you two were inseparable a long time ago, and they know you don’t really go anywhere without the other. Not if you can help it, at least. “I will, Han.”

When Chewie walks by, he ruffles both you and Ben’s hair with a big, furry paw—his own way of saying hello. You laugh while Ben groans, immediately trying to fix the mess. Then Chewie and Han are gone, disappearing into the Falcon and getting it powered up. That’s typically how your interactions with Ben’s father and his companion go, always short and sweet because Han is always on his way to do something, to go annoy someone in some part of the galaxy.

Leia just shakes her head. When she moves past you, she puts a gentle hand against your bandaged wound. “I want you to go see the medic when you can, dear.”

“I will, Mrs. Organa, don’t worry.” You reassure her. “Ben won’t leave me alone until I do.” She seems satisfied with that.

“Oh, and Luke wants you two to contact him within the next few days. He may ask for your return to Ossus. I believe he has some things to discuss, but it didn’t seem like there was a big rush.” She says. You and Ben share a look, wondering what your Master would have to say. You’re both too exhausted to care about it right now though. “I’ll leave you both to it. But do stop by tomorrow morning to give a full report, hm?”

“Sure, mom. We’ll see you then.” Ben says, generously leaning down again so Leia could give him a little peck on the cheek and hold him close.

She takes a few extra seconds than necessary, Ben beginning to squirm in her grasp. She sighs after finally letting him go. “I’m glad you both made it back safely. I didn’t realize how dangerous things have become. We may have to rethink how we go about negotiations so this doesn’t happen again.”

“We’ll figure it out, we always do.” You try to reassure her, even though you’re feeling doubtful yourself. The First Order is expanding, taking more planets, spreading their control.

Leia hums in agreement, trying to keep up some semblance of optimism. “I’ll have to speak to Luke, he needs to make his move. That means you both will need to be on alert.” She says, tone heavy. She waves a hand suddenly, shaking her head. “We’ll worry about it tomorrow, you two don’t need to listen to me trying to figure out a war right now. Go rest up. I need to make sure C-3PO and those kids didn’t get into any trouble.”

“Good idea.” Ben mutters, knowing those kids are probably trying to get into all kinds of mischief.

With a final goodbye, you two and Leia are going your separate ways. You stretch your arms above your head, enjoying the feeling of the sun on your skin. “Now let’s go get something to eat, please, my stomach is digesting itself. I hope they still have some of those sandwiches I like.” You say, practically drooling at the thought of those tasty sandwiches they serve in the cafeteria.

Ben scoffs. “This late in the afternoon? You’re dreaming.”

“Don’t ruin it for me.” You groan.

Even without the sandwiches, as long as you get some type of decent food, you’ll be okay. As long as Ben is with you, you’ll be okay. You know that you’ll both grab a meal together, you’ll sit side by side, never seperated. You know that when you’re done, you’ll both find somewhere quiet, preferably bathed in sunlight, you’ll curl up together looking like two puzzle pieces, and you’ll sleep for as long as you want. Because it’s what you always do, and because you earned it.

[magnifythesun]

Hiii so mexican salsa YES this post is a prompt! Feel free to change it to whatever you like, but I'd love a lil' story like this:

Ian and anthony are both very obviously in love and the whole smoffice knows it, but them lmao! I'd love this fic to be just text messages or slack posts or sth, where the cast and crew report of sightings of Ian and anthony doing very ianthony stuff and not realize it themselves. Maybe they come up w a way to show or nudge them in the right direction? But Ian and Anthony will still make it a bro moment (broment) bc they think the other one just wants to be bros LMAO ~ Japhan2024 💖

@japhan2024 FANTASTIC IDEA I have to believe that the Smosh cast legit has a secret group chat for stuff like this hahaha the looks on their faces whenever Ian and Anthony do something shippy is priceless

im going to wrack my brain for my favorite moments lolol I hope you enjoy!

(mid writing note: i first wrote basically all texts but it wasn't quite flowing the way i wanted it to so now there's a little more prose lol. this also taught me i do NOT know enough crew members' names)

read on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56346769

---

It took Erin less than ten minutes to create The Group Chat following the slapping video caress incident.

Erin: "okay so what the fuck"

Tommy: "i'm beside myself."

Angela: "SO WE'RE FINALLY TALKING ABOUT IT"

It began, and all hell broke loose from there.

Most of the cast and crew didn't know Anthony too well when he first returned, but everyone could tell Ian began to positively glow once he came back. It had started mostly with little under-the-breath comments about how big Ian had smiled at something Anthony did, or shared glances after they looked lost in each other's worlds. It's not that everyone wanted to speculate about their bosses, but rather that their bosses were practically giving them no choice.

The real watershed moment was the birth of The Group Chat, which finally provided an outlet for all ianthony incidents witnessed by the cast and crew.

---

Shayne: "Please tell me how Anthony managed to turn his smosh cast interview into an hour of us complimenting Ian."

Tommy: "i swear he practices in his car on the way to work"

---

Erin: "not them discussing deepthroating injuries for like three whole minutes..."

Erin: "while Anthony sucks on his rainbow lollipop......"

Chanse: "they are not beating the allegations"

---

Josh: "So this is I think the fourth video I've edited where Anthony has called Ian daddy??"

Josh: "WHAT is the thought process. I just can't put it together. is Anthony just like yeah I'm going to call my bro daddy about seventeen separate times with varying levels of seriousness and that's good and het and normal."

Erin: "Josh, istg you don't see the half of it. Come watch them film and pay special attention when the cameras are OFF."

---

Erin: "im losing it"

Arasha: "oh god. what happened"

Erin: "i am not fucking kidding right now anthony just called him submissive and breedable."

Keith: "WHAT"

Erin: "he said what he said."

Angela: "BREEDABLE????????????"

Erin: "in front of god and everyone."

Angela: "BREEDABLE?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!"

---

Tommy: "catching up on the main channel sketches and i just have to ask"

Tommy: "How many men can Ian date in his sketches until he realizes he'd like to date one in real life?"

Chanse: "don't SPEAK to me about it"

---

Tommy: "bicurious, hmm? Ian would you like to share something with the class???"

Chanse: "hes so deep in the mental closet his art is trying to scream it at him through his subconscious."

Chanse: "ive been there 😞"

Josh: "I've never been more prepared to edit a video in my whole life"

---

Angela: "Erinnnn not u directing them to stand closer together 😭😭"

Erin: "look I'm at my wits end. I'm thinking forced proximity might do it"

Keith: "if that could work they would have gotten it during kissing currency 😙💸"

Shayne: "@ courtney is this your thought process behind wanting a kissing video"

Courtney: "HA"

Courtney: "yes."

---

Courtney: "okay so if our plan at this point is just to make them read so many fanfics about themselves out loud that they spontaneously realize they're in love, we've got to find some fics that don't contain the word 'cummies'"

Angela: "what are cummies?? 😇"

Shayne: "ANGELA I SWEAR TO GOD"

---

As the incidents kept piling up, a plot began to form. Maybe Anthony and Ian were just so oblivious that they all needed to adopt a certain 'push-comes-to-shove' mentality, and do what had to be done. Everyone agreed, they had to find a way to put them in such a charged situation that this would all finally boil over, and the astounding tension that had plagued the office would be resolved. The ultimate achievement of this long-weary Group Chat.

Erin: "okay so one more time. everyone has talked with HR, yes? and everyone slated for the vid is comfortable with the concept of spin the bottle"

Angela: "what's spin the bottle? 😇"

Tommy: "STOP"

Shayne "1) Yes for the thousandth time, we promise. 2) What the FUCK are we going to do if this bottle never lands on Anthony and Ian"

Erin: "I will keep this shoot going as long as necessary."

Shayne: "That sounds like a threat?"

Chanse: "I'm suddenly regretting my decision. May I take my week's vacation right now?"

---

Erin: "how..."

Courtney: "did you see the look in their eyes????? :O"

Angela: "FATE WAS ON OUR SIDE. IT LANDED ON THEM THREE WHOLE TIMES"

Erin: "yes but,,,,,"

Tommy: "don't speak to me I'm still reeling"

Keith: "oh please don't tell me it didn't work."

Chanse: "i just have one question. how did they kiss THREE TIMES and still not realize."

Courtney: "they were both practically levitating from giddiness"

Arasha: "they just kept looking away from each other and laughing it off... they didn't see each other's expressions 😭😭"

Angela: "guys. guys"

Erin: "what"

Angela: "do u know what this means"

Angela: "now that we've pushed them over this hurdle... They're going to start bro kissing in their sketches"

Chanse: "oh my god"

Josh: "oh fuck you're right"

Erin: "that's it."

Erin: "im quitting smosh"

Amanda: "Oh hey guys! We have a group chat?"

Shayne:

[so-many-fandoms-here]

Hello. I just recently started watching Alice in Borderland. During that time, for some inexplicable reason, two people grew close to my heart - Takatora Samura and Shuntarō Chishiya. I don't know if you can write scenarios too…if not, pick one of them and do a oneshot. How would he react/How would they react if their girlfriend had a nightmare?

Time for another multi-character post!

(English isn’t my first language so feel free to correct any mistakes you notice.)

• Characters: Shuntarō Chishiya, Suguru Niragi, Takatora Samura, Hikari Kuina, Kodai Tatta, fem!Reader

• Genre: fluff

• Warnings: none

Reacting to you having a

Nightmare

𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧

♦️Shuntarō Chishiya

Chishiya was still up, his mind wandering, thinking about this and that when suddenly you started to flinch in you sleep. He looked over and watched how you threw your head from left to right, your hair one big mess.

He knew what was going on, you’re most likely having a nightmare, nothing health related. Still he was thinking about intervening, not wanting to watch you suffer trough the pictures your brain was showing you.

Right as he wanted to wake you up, you open your eyes, sleepy but still scared. You caught his gaze that was eyeing you thoroughly. It was like he was sucking up your discomfort, like a towel sucking up water. Making the place less messy, taking the water in, not taking any damage by it and being able to be wrung out at a different place where it won’t bother anyone.

Chishiya didn’t have to try to comfort you, he did it by simply being his calm self. His relaxed expression took over you, making you realize that there is nothing to be afraid of.

„You alright?“, he asked, eyes still fixated on you.

„I think so“, you said, shifting closer to him.

His arm found its way around your shoulders, inviting you to let your body rest against his.

„You wanna talk about it?“, he asked next, right after your head found its spot on his chest, listening to the beat of his heart and feeling the rising and sinking of his chest.

„Not right now“, you answered, getting more drowsy by ever second passing.

He hummed in agreement and tangles is fingers on your hair, massaging your scalp while watching you drifting back to sleep again.

♦️Suguru Niragi

Niragi has never been faster on his feet when he heard your pleading and crying. Still naked from your evening activities he jumped up and grabbed his gun that leaned next to him against the wall.

Without knowing where to aim he just swung his weapon from left to right, joining in on your screaming. „What the fuck is going on?“

He was still scanning the room when he reached over to the lamp on his bedside table and turned it on.

„What are you doing?“, you mumbled, awoken from the loud noises. „What I‘m doing?“ Niragi asked appalled. „You screamed! I thought someone tried to-“ harm you, he wanted to say but swallowed this part of the sentence. No way he would admit that he actually cared about you.

He secured the gun and leaned it against the wall again before sitting down on his side of the bed. „I thought someone was inside.“

You shook your head, embarrassment flooded through your whole body. „I had a nightmare“, you mumbled rather quietly and turned on your left side to face away from Niragi.

„Oh“, he answered, unsure how to react. He was conflicted of what to do next and crept extra slowly under the sheets so he would have some extra time to think.

The room went dark again and you tried to close your eyes again, but you couldn’t, the nightmare still in front of your eyes.

„If I could shoot dreams and thoughts, I would“, Niragi suddenly whispered next to you.

If you would have turned around you would have seen how he lifted his arm, thinking about wrapping it around you, before he let it sink on the mattress again.

You smiled, touched by his words. For his standards, this was a really heartwarming thing to say.

♠️ Takatora Samura (Last Boss)

Your shifting in bed alone made Last Boss wake up from his light sleep. His first instinct was to grab the katana next to the bed but he realized instantly that there was no intruder. At least not a human one.

Tense you laid next to him, legs pulled to your stomach and your hands were clenched to fists.

He let go off his katana, sat up and watched how your face was formed to a struggling grimace. That’s when he decided to wake you up.

With his hand on your shoulder he shook you slightly to pull you out of your discomforting sleep.

Your eyes flew open and you grabbed his hand as if it was a reflex. You let go of it just as fast but he didn’t move it, in case you decided you want to grab it again, which you did after getting rid of the last bit of drowsiness.

You sat up, his hand in yours and felt the gaze of his eyes on your face. Last Boss‘ head was cocked to the side, waiting for you to explain what was going on just seconds ago.

The minutes that flew by weren’t minded by him, he gave you all the time you needed before you finally spoke. „I dreamt bad again.“

He nodded, his dark eyes never leaving your face that was brightened by the moonlight falling through the window, while you slowly but surely caught yourself again, the steady grip of his hand being more helpful than he might have thought.

„Let’s just lay down again“, you suggested while doing exactly that.

With silent agreement Last Boss laid back down too, his hand still in yours. It comforted him just as much as it comforted you.

♠️ Hikari Kuina

Kuina was woken up by your turning and shifting in her arms and by the pleading words that left your lips, single words swallowed by the sleep you were still in.

„Baby?“, she whispered tiredly but was bright awake as soon as you mumbled another „No, please no“.

It was the first night ever that you slept in Kuinas room, but she knew about the nightmares that haunted you.

„Baby“, she said, now louder, to wake you up and softly stroke over your hair. „Wake up.“

It took a few seconds and one light shaking from Kuina to get you to wake up but when you did, you took one deep breath, as if you just breathed for the first time in minutes.

„Dreams again?“, Kuina asked before you had to recall the events and explain. You nodded while Kuina went back to petting your hair.

„Everything’s okay, sweetheart“, she whispered into your ear, giving your cheek a quick peck. „I‘m here.“

Those sweet words were like a lullaby, that send you right back into your drowsy state and finally you fell into the first relaxing sleep of the week, thanks to Kuinas reassuring whispers.

♣️ Kodai Tatta

You scared the living shit out of Tatta when you suddenly started to loudly beg for help in your sleep.

He shrieked out of his sleep and sat up straight in a heartbeat, while you still squirmed next to him.

„Hey“, he said, unsure what to do. He worried that it he touched you he would just scare you more, but when his words didn’t cut through the layer of sleep you were in, he decided to place his hand on your shoulder.

„Hey“, he tried again, this time bringing his head closer to yours. And indeed, your eyes finally opened. Your look was a mix of fear and tiredness.

„You screamed for help. Did you dream bad?“, he asked while watching you how you pushed yourself up to sit. Still a little bit overwhelmed you nodded and searched for Tattas hand.

He reacted almost stressed when he saw your hand searching for his and with a speed like his life depended on it, he grabbed it and linked his fingers with yours.

„It’s all right. You’re awake now“, he tried to sound supporting, but failed. He wasn’t good at this.

„Yeah“, you nodded, happy that he was there, even though he was just as overwhelmed as you. „I‘m awake now.“

You guided his hand around your shoulder and snuggled up against his body, your head on his chest while listening to his steady, always a bit fast, heartbeat.

[disasterofastory]

No work on Sundays (Natasha Romanoff  x Reader)

No work on Sundays Natasha Romanoff x Reader Warnings: smut

Summary: Natasha doesn’t want you to work on Sunday.

Your girlfriend's appearance at the door tears your attention away from the bright screen in front of you. Your gaze lands on the woman for long seconds. Her red hair falls on her shoulders in soft curls. A light smirk plays on the corner of her plump lips. She still wears the oversized t-shirt she uses as a pajama. Her long legs are bare for your roaming eyes. Her skin seems soft under the early morning lights. The sound of your co-workers coming from your laptop seems distant and unimportant in contrast with Natasha's sight in front of you.

"Y/N, are you okay?" The mention of your name brings you back to reality. Your eyes land on the screen as you reply. "Yes." "Could you send over the contracts?" "Sure," you hum, already searching for the files. "Tell me if I have to change something."

When you glance up at the door, Natasha is nowhere, and your shoulders fall in disappointment. You wanted to watch her some more. The view of her spread out on the bed is still vivid in your mind. Lips parted. Eyes closed. Her fists pull on the white sheets in pleasure.

"It seems good," your boss says after a few seconds. "Good," you reply. Your thoughts are still busy with your girlfriend.

The sudden touch on your knees makes you jump up in your chair. A small gasp leaves your lips. "Y/N?" "I'm fine," you reply hurriedly. "Please, continue."

What the others can't see is Natasha under your desk, keeping her hands on your knees to pull them apart. Her smirk is full and amused at the fact that you didn't bother putting anything on besides a blue shirt and your panties. The black fabric barely hides your most sensitive parts. "Wh-" You want to ask her but stopping yourself at the last moment, your attention snaps back to your laptop. Your co-workers are still speaking. The chart is clear and bright in the middle of your screen. You don't know what it is about, and frankly, you don't even care anymore. The woman between your legs seems more important.

Before you know it, your legs are apart, and Natasha's warm breath fans over your center. Her long nails scrape the soft skin of your inner thighs, sending shivers through your body. Your breath gets stuck in your lungs, and you can hear your heart rapidly beating in your ears. Anticipation stretches in your muscles as you try to keep your expression neutral. Soon, you can feel her soft lips brushing over your skin from your knees to your pussy. You can barely feel the small kiss on your clit, but it's still enough to make you throb. The mouse creaks in your tight hold.

"Did you talk with them, Y/N?" The question comes suddenly. "Talk with who?" You breathe out, confused. "Susan." "Oh," you gasp. It's from the recognition and Natasha's tongue on your panties. She licks up on the fabric, already tasing you as you get wetter and wetter with each second. "Yes," you add. "She said everything is ready." "Good."

Yeah. Good. So good.

Your panties are soaked by the time Natasha decides it's enough and pulls them aside to give herself access to your pussy. Your folds glint with your juices, and a few seconds later, it mixes with the woman's saliva. Her tongue laps up on your slit, slurping on your wetness. Her senses are filled with your smell and taste. You are warm and inviting under her every swirl and twist.

Your fingers dig into the thick wood of your desk. Your nails scrape the dark surface. Hot coil burns in your stomach, and your muscles twitch with every soft lick and kiss. You can only hope others can't see your trembling through the camera.

"We talked about everything, I think," your boss says, and the others agree. "Y/N, do you have anything else to say?" Forcing down a moan in your throat, you shake your head. Natasha thinks this is the right moment to close her lips around your clit to suck on it to her heart's content. "I think we are done," you croak out. "Good," he nods. "We will meet tomorrow, then." "Bye!" You gasp out before closing your laptop with a loud smack. "Oh my god!" Natasha's laugh vibrates in your core. "I thought they never shut up." You can feel her every word on your aching pussy. "What are you doing?" You ask her. "Natasha!" "I'm having breakfast," she replies cheekily. "Don't disturb me and your pussy." The woman adds with a small pinch on your thigh. It burns, but it's nowhere compared to the hot flames inside you. "You can't do this, Nat," you try to argue with her even though you can barely form words between your moans and groans. "What will I do if they find out?" "It sounds like a you problem," she laughs again. "Now shut up."

Her hold is tight and steady on your thighs as she keeps you in place. The woman's face is buried in your cunt as she devours you. Her tongue flicks over your clit repeatedly, chasing you to your orgasm and stopping at the last second. "Nat," you complain. "Don't stop!" "You told me I can't do this," she teases, lapping at your fold. "Oh, shut up!" You gasp. Your head falls back on the chair, and one of your hands sneaks under the table to grab her hair. Her locks are soft between your fingers as you keep her close to your burning cunt. Your wetness is smeared over your thighs, soaking Natasha's face too. The small room smells like sex and impatience. "Please," you start to beg. "Please, make me cum!" "Should I?" She really enjoys the power she has over you. "Please," you cry. "I need it." She hums but gives in. Her lips are on your clit again, sucking on the hard bud and finding your hole with two of her delicate fingers. Natasha fucks into you rapidly, pushing you up and up until your back arches and a vein bulges out under the thin skin of your neck. Your moans are croaked and breathless as you fall over the edge. Your blood rushes in your veins, pumping your heart until you are afraid you will have a heart attack. This woman will be the death of you. Your orgasm is powerful and overwhelming. Your legs close around Natasha's head, forcing her to continue whatever she does.

"What did I say about working on Sundays?" She asks when your body relaxes, and she can come up to lean against you. Her head rests on the valley of your breasts. She tastes like you when you kiss her. "I don't know," you smirk. The world is still spinning around you but slower. "Maybe I should work more if you think that was a punishment."