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jakeyt · 9 months

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Covet: Chapter 6

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Covet Summary:

Life was good. No, life was great.

Was.

Until.

Jake Kiszka crashed into the picture.

You welcomed him into your life—your home.

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

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

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

Warnings: MINORS DNI (18+); smutty smutty smut; talk of Reader's anxiety; drunkenness; New Girl spoilers (if you’ve never watched the show and don’t wanna know things!); absent parent thoughts; heavy petting; oral sex f!receiving; fingering; oral sex m!receiving; unprotected p in v sex; spanking (hehe); Reader is stubborn; Jake is stubborn (if i missed any that may have triggered you, please let me know!!)

Chapter Word Count: 24.5k+ (damn. i'm v sorry lmao)

Covet Masterlist

a/n: welllll, after summer school (that shit really took it out of me), one vacation w my whole fam, two gvf shows with my sis @joshym, an extended vaca in nash (bc we just HAD to!!), and INSANE writer's block....... HERE IS CHAPTER 6! finally! i'm insanely sorry it took so damn long. thank you all for being the fkn B E S T and so understanding and the best gresties/readers a girl could ask for! <3333 ("heart eyes, motherfucker" - that's how i feel about u all :) (also if u remember that vine, ily even more now))

i hope you enjoyyyy ;)

-🌼🌼🌼-

At the beginning of July, you were stacking a shipment of some blues records in a bin at work, your mind in a blank space, which naturally moved you to think of the one person who was seemingly always at the back of your mind.

Jake.

He’d really just taken up residence in your brain, as he had in your home.

He was still on his shit. You know, acting like a pouting child, barely acknowledging you. Even after you’d literally bared yourself to him, pussy out, nipples pebbled in the open air. . .

You blew a breath through your lips, and tucked hair behind both ears, readjusting your thought process.

Now he seemed set on only acting like an ass after your time in the cramped bathroom had been cut short. Before, he’d taken the time to still seek you out. After the incident in your bedroom bedroom, he’d literally shown up at the B&G, begging you to come see him.

Were you just not worth it to him anymore?

You rolled your eyes to yourself, focusing on stuffing records in the bin alphabetically.

It. Didn’t. Matter. He didn’t matter.

Really.

And you knew he didn’t matter because it wasn’t hard for you when you finally decided to play into his behavior—his little game. You didn’t stop yourself when you started to match his energy. It was easy to act as though you didn’t care about him.

Because you didn’t.

All you really needed was to satisfy that itch and then—then, you’d be good.

But as you came across a re-release of a Howlin’ Wolf record, you suddenly became slightly disheartened at the thought of it all. What if this wasn’t a game for him? What if he was actually so upset that he just decided you weren’t worth it? Would you ever get as close as you had at the gig again? Did he still want you like he had in the bathroom that night? Or in your bed the night before Baby’s?

You shivered as you (once again) thought of his hardened dick pressed up against your leg. You could hear his voice, low and sultry.

“That’s what you do to me.”

Fuck. Did you still do that to him? You hoped so.

Then there was the feeling of him pressing into you, your bare ass on the cold ceramic of the sink, leaning your body into him, craving more—so close.

God.

You frustratedly groaned and shoved the vinyl in its place and shook your head. It didn’t matter. Really. But you couldn’t help your heart falling at the idea of him not wanting you like you wanted him.

All you could do was hope that he still wanted it—wanted you, like he had before.

-🌼🌼🌼-

You'd also started July deciding that in order to keep some sense of dignity, it would be best to not go see Jake perform. Especially if it was possible he’d completely closed himself off the idea of you.

It was humiliating to be a try hard.

You would distance yourself from that part of his life, if he was going to ignore you and distance himself in your shared home.

Did you want to see him play again? Hell freakin’ yes. It had been such an intimate experience that first night. You’d felt so privileged to witness it the way you had then, up close to share his emotions as he played, holding his eyes almost any time he’d looked up at you. You’d been taking in every flick of his fingers, every thrust into the back of his guitar, the concentration on his sweaty face . . . and he’d wanted you to watch. He’d wanted you there, in that moment, with him.

You could still see him clear as day, tanned skin glowing in the B&G, his eyes golden in the evening sun, pleading with you. . .

“I really want you there.”

When you’d gone to their last shows in June, all you wanted was to feel that way again. Connected to him. Close to him. You wanted it so badly—but it seemed he didn’t want it anymore. He hadn’t looked at you once during any of the shows. To be fair, you had been standing so far towards the back that it’s possible he hadn’t even known you were there. But, he hadn’t even tried to seek you out to ask you to come like he had before (if it really was possible he thought you weren’t there).

Things were just different than before.

So, yeah. It was best that you didn’t go. You didn’t want to seem desperate or possibly annoy him with your presence just in case he did see you at a show. You’d made up your mind that it was obvious he didn’t want you there. He wanted things like they currently were.

And it wasn’t so much that it hurt to have him act so aloof and absent and uncaring. It didn’t hurt. Really. You’d tried to convince yourself that he was just making you angry. Nothing more.

So, you just continued to play his game however well you could. It wasn’t that important.

Though, any time he left the apartment, looking deliciously ready for a performance, all you wanted to do was follow. But instead, all you’d actually do was look at him from wherever he passed you in the apartment. You’d glare at him, matching his pissy behavior as long as he continued to show it.

But you’d eventually noticed that his eyes weren’t always holding irritation when he passed you. . .sometimes, you could have sworn his eyes held more longing than anything.

Although, as soon as you’d think you saw it, he was already gone. And you would eventually decide that you’d imagined it.

You couldn’t stop yourself from wondering if it was possible that underneath his moodiness he did still want you?

All you wanted was to understand what he was feeling.

-🌼🌼🌼-

So, after not going to their shows for the first couple weeks of July, Josh had finally reached out on the night of one, asking if you’d come because he ‘missed seeing you’.

You initially wanted to send a text back that said: ‘No, sorry. Your brother sucks and I’m mad at him right now. And if I go all I’ll want to do is fuck him senseless after watching him play, even though he probably doesn’t want that at all. So, I have to decline.’

But, then you guiltily started thinking of how you needed to support your best friend and the other two guys. It was incredibly rude of you to not go see Josh, Sam, and Danny do their thing simply because Jake was a pain in the ass that you couldn’t figure out.

You wanted to support your friends. Support Josh.

So that’s why you ended up texting an ‘Of course! What time?’ in response.

And as you got ready that night, you pulled on a cropped Cream T-shirt, thinking momentarily of your roommate. Would he like it if he saw it? Or would it piss him off?

Pushing it out of your mind, you focused on how excited you were now, the idea of getting to see them live again.

The guys put on a helluva show; they were absolutely magnificent, so magnetic.

Once you felt totally ready to go, you secured an Uber to pick you up, already planning to have a few drinks to ease your mind at the show.

As you put your shoes on, you thought. . . The thing that made you most excited really wasn’t seeing the band perform again as a whole. It wasn’t even the thought of seeing Josh. It was getting to simply be near Jake again, pathetic as it may sound. And the thought of seeing him play again. . . Fuck. Watching him was so enticing. He was like a drug. . .always drawing you in.

There was no denying the way your stomach fluttered at the thought of watching him perform again. Because even though he was pissing you off and you had no earthly clue how in the hell he was feeling, watching him perform was unlike any adrenaline rush you’d ever experienced.

(Save for the feeling of your blood pumping erratically at the feeling of him tucked between your legs. That was a feeling unlike anything else.)

-🌼🌼🌼-

Like you had at shows before, you sat at the back to witness the performance.

It had been great, per usual. Jake had left you wanting him from your seat. And just like it had been at the shows in June, he never failed to make you feel incredibly stupid for stopping things in the bathroom the night of their first show.

Yet now, while they performed their encore, you hadn’t left the venue like you normally did. You hadn’t tried to get the hell out of dodge.

No, tonight, you stood at the outdoor bar area connected to the back of the venue. It was set in a huge space covered in bright green turf, a small patio with a couple of tables, and plenty of Edison bulb string lights to set the cool mood of the place.

There were even a couple of ping pong tables and a cornhole game set up for people to play at. A random sporting event was drawing in a few college-aged men, on a giant flat screen TV.

Although, unlike those men, it wasn’t your choice to be hanging out in the open area. You had wanted to avert to your normal plan of leaving to go home with a quick ‘proud of you!’ text to Josh.

You wanted to avoid Jake seeing you at all costs. But Josh had inadvertently seen to it that you wouldn’t get away with that plan again.

He’d apparently caught onto your little trick. Before you could begin to type a text, and before they’d even come out for their encore, Josh had sent a text. Or three.

Josh, 10:23 p.m.: Don’t you dare leave.

Josh, 10:23 p.m.: I really want to see you and give you a hug

Josh, 10:24 p.m.: I don’t see you nearly enough these days and I miss you dearly and I really want to have just one drink with you after the show. Pleeeeaaaase

So, here you were, outside before the set even totally ended, standing at the bar, downing another lemon drop to calm your nerves. You really just wanted to be home, with Stevie snoring against your calves.

You were not totally ready to be in the same area as Jake for an extended amount of time.

You were just asking for your another beer when you felt someone sidle up beside you. The nudge against your shoulder, and the familiar hint of patchouli in his cologne, made you grin at your best friend.

“One salty dog for me,” Josh said as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. After a nod, the bartender went to get his drink ready, and he turned you fully into him to give you a big hug.

It felt so safe. . . but you couldn’t help the feeling of wanting to be this close to Jake instead.

When you pulled away, you momentarily closed your eyes, collecting your thoughts. When you opened them, you watched as he placed an elbow on the bar and a hand on his hip. His eyebrow went up.

“Great job tonight. I’m so prou—.”

“Why haven’t you let me know your anxiety’s been flaring up again?” He interrupted, obviously worried.

You blinked once. What? “What?”

“Last month, you kept fleeing before I could even take a breath after a set. I figured you were just trying to get some sleep with your summer classes starting. But then you just stopped coming altogether,” he scooted in closer to you. His voice got lower, his eyes concerned. “I just wanted to put eyes on you. I’ve been so busy; I haven’t had time to check on you like normal. My schedule is shit. I figured this would be a way for me to see you and make sure you’re doing alright,” he continued, reaching his hand up to lightly rub your shoulder. “It came later this time. I expected it to get bad at the end of May, but it never came. What’s going on? Are you okay? Are you eating?”

Your cheeks pinkened. With your concern for avoiding Jake at these gigs, you hadn’t even taken time to think about how your behavior might have worried Josh. Of course he’d been thinking deeply about your absence. He cared so much for you, and was a sole confidant on multiple occasions of your depression induced anxiety flare-ups. And, to be fair, being flighty usually signaled the beginning of your bigger bouts with your superb anxiety-depression combo.

You’d had a few times in your friendship where it had gotten really bad. Definitely a trauma response, almost always coming with a change in season. For some reason, the change in leaves, flowers blooming — it always made you think of just how much your mom had broken you. You didn’t get to appreciate the beauty without it being tainted by darkness. Your mother's leaving had come right at the turn of fall into winter.

There had been a few times after Elsie left when it got so bad that Josh’d insisted he stay with you. With your sister around, he wouldn’t always stay the night when it hit you, but he’d check on you at work, and hover with texts, food, and quality time until he felt you were better.

But this had nothing to do with your mother. And really, your anxiety wasn’t bad. Jake wasn’t causing you anxiety for you at all right now. You didn’t know what you were feeling. Were you on edge around Jake at all times? Yes. But it wasn’t anxiety. It definitely wasn’t depression. Sadness that he could possibly not want you, yes. But it wasn’t something dark like the thought your mother might bring. You didn’t know what it was.

You just knew you had to reassure Josh.

“I’m okay,” you looked into his eyes and reached out to hold his hand on the bar. “Yes, I’m eating. I’m just—feeling a lot right now? I don’t know. It’s weird,” you shook your head and removed your hand to tuck some hair behind your ear. How could you explain this to him? You couldn’t. “Just a lot going on in my head.”

He studied you, squinted his eyes. “Is there something I should know about?” He questioned, his voice getting crisper as he tried to make pieces click. Your stomach dropped. “You’re being vague. You’re sure it’s not—?”

“No,” you shut your eyes, huffing a frustrated breath. “Yes. I’m—it’s just—I don’t know.” Improvise, improvise, improvise. “When Elsie was in town, we talked about my mom. I’ve just been in my feelings, I guess. And, yeah, summer classes have started and that’s added some pressure, too. But it’s not anxiety or depression or anything,” you connected eyes with him again, and reached to squeeze his hand. “I promise.”

He still didn’t seem convinced. You weren’t surprised. He was an empath after all. He shouldn’t be convinced. He knew better than to believe that was all it was. But you didn’t want him knowing any better than an assumption in his head. And as long as the assumption didn’t have anything to do with his brother, you were okay with whatever he was assuming. And, you being in a weird headspace because of your mom wasn’t a lie. You truly had been. He’d even witnessed it at the coffee shop.

It just wasn’t the whole truth. The biggest thing was something he absolutely couldn’t know: the way your mind had been swarmed with Jake, Jake, Jake for the past months. And it’d only gotten worse with the past couple . . .events.

The thought of Josh catching on to anything about his brother continued to make you fearful of him possibly being cross with you over it. Or worse, made you fear him feeling betrayed by you. You didn’t want him upset or thinking poorly of you for possibly distracting Jake in any way.

You couldn't be to Jake what his ex had been. And you feared Josh’s mind would go to that immediately—out of protection for his brother. Rightfully so.

His eyes settled back to normal, accepting your answer for the time being. His eyes curved down with understanding. “I saw you watching that girl and her mom at the coffee shop. I should’ve known.”

All you could do was nod. You didn’t know what more to say to cover your ass.

You cleared your throat, signaling you were ready for a change of topic. “Enough about me. How are you feeling about all of these amazing shows, rockstar?”

He grinned wide, letting his worries go as a drink landed in front of him.

And in no time, things were like they’d always been.

Just you and Josh, not a lingering thought for Jake’s moods as you let yourself listen to his twin’s many thoughts and feelings of this new life of his.

You just had to try your best to ignore the way your heart leapt in your chest at any mention of Jake’s name in a story.

-🌼🌼🌼-

Jake’s POV

I wasn’t prepared for the sight of her as I walked out onto the back area of the establishment.

And fuck it all, if she wasn’t the first thing my eyes found in that slightly crowded space. It would be impossible for her not to be—she was most definitely the most gorgeous woman I’d ever seen.

But my heart immediately dropped when it registered that she was holding Josh’s hand, talking animatedly with him. It would be stupid for me to assume she’d come for anyone else but him.

I had thought for sure that she’d been interested—wanted me—that night at Baby’s All Right. She’d said so much the night before that —her being so open with me at our home, right before we’d kissed for the first time in the hallway.

Then, that night at Baby’s. . .I’d been so close to her, feeling her swollen pussy, still wet from my mouth, on the head of my cock. The way her body had thrummed around me. . .making my body need more.

But just before I was inside of her, she’d heard my brother and her mind had gone immediately to him. Only caring what he thought.

I didn’t know what to think about what they had between them. It was very possible that they were just friends—best friends. I knew that was likely the case.

(And if I were thinking reasonably—it was definitely the case from how Josh talked about her sister.)

But my ways of reasonable thinking had been shot to shit these days.

I’d been burned by assuming something similar in the past. The whole “just friends” thing was a cover I wasn't too fond of. Thanks to the woman I’d loved in the past, my trust was shot and I had become a primarily “glass half empty” thinker. My past had bit me in the fuckin’ ass.

But y/n—she made me feel electric again—full of life. She was the most beautiful symbol of a fresh start. A fresh start I’d been craving—a feeling I’d been chasing for years.

I truly hadn’t felt so full of possibility since I was 16. Even when we’d bicker, I felt this glimmer of hope for my life. . . She was a natural light.

I just wanted her so bad, going dizzy at the sight of her . . . And that was a feeling I hadn’t ever felt with any other woman. My brain was almost always fuzzy when she was near.

She was absolutely breathtaking, every movement she made that had her hair flowing in slow motion around her head, the way her eyes hooded when it was just the two of us. . . but even better, the way her eyes shined, so bright, all the time. She was positively heaven sent.

And I’d be an idiot to think she’d want me more than my brother—who she’d known for years, who she was instantly drawn to at all times. They had natural chemistry. Anyone with two eyes could see it.

She deserved a light that matched her own. Could I capture that light? Yes, I knew I could. But I’d been so terrible to her from the get-go; I wouldn’t blame her gravitating towards Josh—feeling safer with him.

Like he always said, he was the sun, and I was the moon. I naturally came with darkness. I’d made it clear enough by acting like an asshole for the first portion of my time living with her.

People who knew me knew I was notoriously terrible at reacting to hurt. I didn’t naturally know how to handle my emotions like Josh was practically born knowing to do.

And the moment I laid eyes on her that first night at the apartment—when she’d opened the door. . .her hair falling against her sweet face, her eyes opening to show me the most beautiful color I’d ever seen. I knew then that I was a goner.

But it’d seemed to be terrible timing at that instant. Feeling so drawn to her—it was coming right after I’d had the biggest life change. My heart was hurting—not necessarily broken, just . . . lost.

And I didn’t want her to be involved in the hopeless sea I’d been drowning in since my past troubles had come crashing down around me.

Though, when I’d first seen her, standing there, the evening sun hitting her stunning face in her doorway— I felt like all of the pirates I loved to study. I’d found a hidden treasure I couldn’t even imagine could be so beautiful— just around the bend for so long, finally in my grasp.

But I hadn’t known her. I hadn’t even met her. She was a treasure that wasn't mine to enjoy.

And I truly needed to heal, without bringing someone else down with me. I was scared of all I was feeling, and I only knew to react with bluntness, rudeness, irritation at every fucking turn. I’d even brought girls to bed to try to get her the fuck out of my mind.

But it never happened. She was persistently there, in my everyday routine, in the eyes of the girls I'd mindlessly fuck. She'd sealed a sweet spot in my brain.

But I’d still kept up with the douchebag act.

It was so unfair.

She’d tried so hard to be friendly, and I never greeted it well. I hadn’t known what to make of it all. That first night, Josh had said we were the same. Though, as he’d said this, I’d been watching her—so peaceful and beautiful, deep in a surely dreamful sleep.

It’d instantly made my stomach dip when he said it. . . I knew well enough that she couldn’t be the same as me.

But she was the same as Josh—pure, unadulterated bright, yellow sunshine. She was the sun on a spring day, flowers blooming and the grasses so green. Not a cloud in sight.

But I was the cloud in her flawless sky. I’d been reminded of that when she’d stopped us at Baby's, saying she didn’t want Josh to know. It seemed she didn’t want to take a chance on people knowing we’d been so close.

I could only assume she didn’t want that darkness in her life, and I didn’t blame her.

So I’d separated myself from her.

After that night, when Josh had told me of her being at our other gigs in June, I’d brushed it off. I knew why she was there—for Josh. I hadn’t even tried to seek her out because I knew that wasn’t what she wanted. She didn’t want me near her. Didn’t want people to know how close we had been.

How well her body shaped to mine in secret— and it was just that: a secret she wanted kept.

Especially wanted it kept from Josh. To him, she wanted us to be strictly roommates. So that’s what I’d decided I’d be for her.

I’d wanted to ask her to come to shows after our little stint, but I fought the urge every time it came on. I wanted her there, I fed off of her energy—she made me play better. But, I didn’t want to rub her the wrong way after she’d put her foot down in the bathroom. I didn’t want to come off too strong.

I’d also given my best attempt to not let my feelings show in the past weeks. It had been so hard anytime I’d meet her beautiful eyes. Her eyes that, over the past week, had seemed to turn from something hopeful when she looked my way to what could only be called disdain —disdain for me.

I had been an asshole, and she was better than that . . .

But, still, all I wanted was her. I wanted to take back everything I’d said or done out of hurt, due to not knowing how to handle my mess of feelings.

I wished I could go back to day one and make things different. I wished I could go back in time to stop myself from becoming a slab of stone to cope with my feelings. If I would have just been myself. . . Maybe I’d have her now— ever-endearing and enrapturing.

Fuck. And as I watched her tousle Josh’s hair, I just wanted to feel her fingers in mine again. My heart twinged with jealousy at the action.

“Look who’s here!”

Sam’s loud voice snapped me out of my reverie. I continued to watch her, her smile widened at Sam’s voice, looking in his direction, and away from Josh. Then, without warning, she looked over to me as I was still studying her face—the way her full lips stretched to show her beautiful beam.

But as soon as she looked at me, her smile fell. And all I wanted in that moment was for her smile to get bigger when she saw me, just as it had when she saw Sam.

I just wanted her.

I decided at that moment, I was going to bite the bullet. I could make one more move to be close to her again. And if there was one moment where she acted as if she didn’t want it, I’d back off.

But right now? I couldn’t see that happening. Couldn't see her backing off. She didn’t pull her eyes from mine, and I never let my gaze fall from hers. She held me with her stare, and I held her with mine.

It was just us.

And as I came up on her other side, opposite Josh, she never broke eye contact with me, turning from my twin. And even as Sam and Danny traveled behind me, she only looked at me.

I watched her chest rise and fall, the swell of her breasts making my mouth run dry from where they peeked out at the makeshift tear at the top of her shirt. The sugary sweet smell of her perfume made all of my senses lurch forward, wanting to take her—all of her— right at that moment.

I was close enough to see the shine from the Edison bulbs around us, reflecting in her irises.

Daniel and Sam came up to give her hugs, honestly acting completely oblivious to what was transpiring between us. Josh was chatting it up with the bartender, asking if he heard us from out here.

And finally, they all left to go play ping pong. They’d offered for us to go play, but she hadn’t even acknowledged them talking. I waved them off, and looked at them with a shake of my head. I felt her eyes continue to pore over me as she let me do the work to get them to leave.

Then, y/n and I were in our own world, I placed my forearm on the bar, my body curving to be around hers of its own accord. She followed by turning her whole body to face mine. It felt natural as she leaned into where I stood. She wasn’t quite touching me, but she let her own body follow all of my movements.

I couldn’t help but feel my chest puff as she let her body move with mine as I matched her, moving in time with her. I was the dull moth and she was the bright, alluring flame.

I wondered if it felt as seamless for her as it did for me, she sat her elbow on the bar, and leaned her hip against a stool. She went to sit on top of it, but she struggled with her footing, so I let my instincts take control and I helped her onto it. However I could help her, I wanted to.

I also wanted nothing more than to touch her, so that seemed like the perfect opportunity to kill two birds with one stone.

The gasp she released when I touched her, and lifted her the slightest bit to help her situate on the glittery plastic top of the stool, combined with the way her legs spread the slightest bit, her black jean shorts showing so much of her sweet, sun-kissed thighs—it made all of my blood rush through me and to a throbbing halt at the head of my cock.

I wanted to cross my legs to make sure it wouldn’t show what she was doing to me. But she was so magnetic, I couldn’t help the last step I took, towards the stool, to be closer to her. I was so close that my thighs touched her knees. Her knees, which she then crossed, in the process grazing the zipper of my jeans.

My breath caught in my chest, and my dick pulsed. She was still looking down at where she’d touched me, so I knew she saw what I felt happening in my pants.

She shot me a look, questioning all of this. And all I could do was look down at her, letting my eyes sweep over her entire outfit. So simple, yet so lovely, as always. She was wearing a cropped band tee (Cream. Fuck—did she do that on purpose?) and those cut off black denim shorts, with her black-colored toenails showing in a pair of cheap black flip flops.

I swallowed hard, feeling so entranced by her. My gaze went back to her face, the most appealing part of the woman. Her face was so open, so kind, so pretty—it had done nothing but draw me in since day one. And being so close to her again, I saw the familiar dusting of a few lighter freckles that dotted her nose. She was smiling—her eyes were smiling— at me.

Somehow it seemed she knew exactly what was going through my mind. Crazy how we’d been avoiding each other for the past couple of weeks, but now just clicked back together as if we were back at Baby’s All Right—in the cramped space of that bathroom.

I looked into her bright eyes, feeling something overwhelming come to life in my chest.

Fucking hell. She was perfect.

I needed this. I needed to feel this with her again. I’d missed it. The closeness.

“Hi,” I said with a nod, just loud enough for her ears to hear.

She blinked once, her eyes wide and wondering. Fuck. She was so damn cute.

Then, I watched fondly as her dimples showed in her cheeks with a soft grin. “Hi.”

End of Jake’s POV

-🌼🌼🌼-

It had been a decent amount of time since Jake had come up to stand right next to you, completely ruining any chance for sanity on your end.

He’d acted so normal, so forward. His actions were exactly what you’d needed to feel relieved—to know that all was okay.

You’d gotten nervous being around him, like Elsie would say, you were pretty sure you had a ‘good ‘ol crush.’ Nothing more. You focused on complimenting the set when you’d talked, asking simple questions, just to hear his voice explain the same things Josh already had. The raspiness in his tone was just delicious, and you wanted to hear the small things from his perspective more than anyone else’s.

When you weren’t listening to him talk, you pretended to be interested in the game on the flat screen—you had no clue what they were doing on the field, but it was distracting you from how sweaty your palms were getting at Jake being so close.

Though, you were now several beers (and a couple margaritas) in, previously deciding you wanted to make this night like old times where you’d get drunk and have fun with the guys. The boys’d come up to you a few times in your precious time being next to Jake. They’d bump you with a shoulder as they grabbed a drink. . . Josh only coming by once or twice, having been the chosen one to hold off, as he was the DD.

And, per usual, Sammy had chosen a game that would supposedly be much more fun, completely inebriated: ‘drunk ping pong.’

“Like normal ping pong, except you’re drunk!” Sam had excitedly said, his signature cackle following his words. He was right there with you on the 'shitface scale'.

Jake had barely left your side all night, and it felt so right to be so close to him, to stay with him. It felt right, just like it had before, except this time, it had nothing to do with anything sexual. . .it was just his simple presence that made you feel good.

(You weren't going to talk about how you'd felt his dick twitch in his tight jeans. . .because holy fuck. Your panties had been the victim when that had happened.)

By the middle of the ping pong game, you were still drinking. You felt light in the head, completely carefree. You even caught yourself leaning into Jake a few times, the two of you deciding to be a team against Sammy and Danny. Josh preferred being the referee for the game, getting a chance to nonstop talk by narrating the entire game.

At one point, you knew you were leaning back into him, but you were far too gone to care. You’d purposefully pressed your ass against his crotch, and he’d patiently repositioned you. You were grateful for him being so aware, because you knew you’d regret it in the morning if something stupid happened in front of your friends. You just couldn’t control your actions like a sober-you normally could.

You were in a body that was moving on its own, your brain barely registering what you’d do.

He’d repeatedly asked if you were doing alright, and you’d get so lost in his chocolate gaze you could only breathe a ‘yes’ in response.

And, now, as you settled into a booth inside the establishment, it was nearing 1 a.m., and you were simply listening to the guys talk about their next performance. And as you had been all night, you were next to Jake.

At this point, you were cuddled up next to him more than anything else. You felt so cozy with him. His body was a warm furnace for yours. You were sitting in a way that none of the other guys could see what you were doing. Because of them not seeing your bottom half, you situated a leg over his thigh, comfortably draping it the best you could to make it look as inconspicuous as possible (while simultaneously being incredibly drunk).

But you could barely worry about it when you leaned your head on his shoulder. You were sleepy. And he was warm, right, and close.

And he smelled so fucking good. Hints of sage and vanilla overwhelmed your senses, mixed with sweat. . .it was the perfect mixture that helped to lull you to sleep, along with the calming vibration of his voice as he talked with his brothers, your head laying on his shoulder perfectly placed for the melodic sound waves from his voice.

And right before you dozed off, you felt one of his calloused hands lay on your thigh, warm on your cooled skin. You snuggled into him, a small smile finding its way to your lips.

-🌼🌼🌼-

Before you knew it, the same hand was squeezing your thigh, urging you to wake up.

“Y/n. . .let’s go home,” his voice softly said, his minty breath hitting your face. Home. As your eyes wedged open, you looked up at him to find the apples of his cheeks redden with a deep laugh as he reacted to something Josh said.

If only you could just kiss him - right then and there.

You were still too out of it to register what Josh was saying, but you noticed the other three standing around the booth, Jake securely next to you still.

Your tummy fluttered at him being so attentive to you, and continued on that way as he helped you climb out (or rather squeak out of the booth, your bare thighs making racket against the seat).

“Y/n. . .,” Sam started, his voice way too high for him to be requesting your name for anything too serious. And still, you looked up at him as you finally edged your way to the very end of the red booth. “Did you fart?!”

The rest of the guys started chuckling with him, and you couldn’t help but join in as you went to punch his scrawny chest. “Shut the fuck up, you fucker.”

Danny whooped, beating a fist in the air. He started leading the way out of the bar. As you all followed, he turned to catch your eye briefly. “Y/n. . . coming in with some nasty ass insults tonight,” he laughed. “You’re killing it, Baby Dragon.”

“Haven't heard that one for a hot damn second,” Josh remarked, right behind Danny, waiting to hold the door open for you, Jake, and Sam. “Baby Dragon.”

Jake looked at you and Sam curiously, wanting an in on the nickname.

“Baby Dragon?” He questioned, taking the door from Josh to let you into the dark night, under his lifted arm.

“Game of Thrones,” was Sammy’s explanation, as he started teetering on his feet, balancing himself on the ledge of the sidewalk to keep himself busy. “Baby dragons.”

You could tell he was still wondering why, so you tried to extend Sam’s drunken response with your own woozy one. “I’m a baby dragon.”

Well, that made no damn sense, you thought, giggling to yourself.

The guys started busting up laughing, Jake still dipping his eyebrows in at you, a smile playing on his full lips. He was watching your every motion, continuing as you looped your arm with Sammy, trying to balance with him.

Josh continued, more lucid than either of you. “We watched Game of Thrones week after week at our apartment for about a year. . . binged it together,” he nodded his head toward you, smirking. “One of y/n’s favorite ways to bond is with a good television show. And she had been dying for us to watch it with her. So, we did.”

The curly headed twin then laughed at you and Sammy as you both nearly fell, making the same ridiculous sound as you almost went down. Sam thankfully recovered in time, even with his feet slippery in his Birkenstocks. He held you close to him. It made you laugh even harder as he playfully checked you for bumps and bruises.

“We deemed her Baby Dragon,” Danny finished.

Jake nodded, but he still wanted more information, looking left out. You also noticed him looking as though he’d discovered something. And then it clicked that Josh had exposed a bonding tactic of yours. You slapped your forehead, your reactions still slow, even after your nap, where you had snoozed off the tiniest bit of alcohol.

“Josh!” You scolded him, way past time. You still made no sense, randomly saying his name— you knew this.

But, the more Josh looked at you dubiously, you thought you’d leave it at that. You didn’t need to correct him for saying anything. Because, well, it really wasn’t that big of a deal, the more you thought of it. Maybe you were okay with Jake knowing you’d used TV to bond with him.

In this state, you could plainly admit that you wanted him to know your heart—all of your intentions. And you wanted to tell him all of your desires. . . Show him, even. You were craving him, especially after being so close with him all night. It felt nice.

You looked up to observe him at that moment, but he was checking his phone, his eyebrows crinkled. He looked up from it, clicking it closed and glancing to the street to see a car rolling up.

“Your Uber AWAITS!” Sam declared, motioning to the car that had pulled up to the curb, the black and white Uber sign in the corner of the window to confirm his words.

“Jake, you need to get a damn car,” Josh noted, opening the back door for you. “I’m tired of being your chauffeur. And Uber is going to get tired of you soon, too,” He caught your eye and winked, nodding over to your roommate. “Y/n, I’m thinking it’s your turn to cart Jake around everywhere he goes.”

You approached the nice little silver car, rolling your eyes at Josh, but still giving him a hug as you came up next to him. “Love you, Joshy,” you leaned in, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“I’m not taking any car advice from you, Mister Clunkerfuck,” he commented plainly. It made you burst out with laughter. “Your car is on its last fuckin’ leg. It’s going to break down on you at the worst possible moment and I’m not going to feel bad. I think you’re the one who needs to get a car—a new one.”

Sam started drunkenly singing a track you hadn’t heard that included the lyrics ‘you’re the one’. His actions were dramatic, only Danny paid him any mind, starting to sing with him, being just as goofy.

You were still thinking of what Jake had said. It was exactly how you thought of Josh’s car.

“Clunkerfuck,” you smiled in Jake’s direction. Though, when you caught his eye, he looked a little downcast, you just couldn’t pin why. Maybe you were seeing it, all dazed out. “Good one, Jakey.”

Jakey? It did register in time that you’d called him that, and you were instantly embarrassed by your nickname for him. Too far. So, you hurriedly got in the car, your cheeks flushing as you haphazardly yelled goodbyes to the other guys.

“Nighty night, Baby Dragon,” Josh had said with a laugh, calling you the nickname once more, closing the door behind you. You’d honestly forgotten about the nickname. . .it had been so long since they’d used it.

Before you knew it, Jake was scooting into the passenger seat to offer an address to the driver.

He doesn’t want to sit next to me? You thought, sadly. But he chose to be close to me the rest of the night. . . Why not now?

You tried not to look too disappointed on the outside as he was back to ignoring you for the twenty minute drive back to your place. He paid you no mind, and didn’t even care to check on you like he had all night, on the ride back.

You weren’t able to give it much thought as you looked at the GPS and reasoned you could get a good nap in on the way home. Drinking always made you feel so tired.

You laid your head against the cooled window next to you. Jake’s naturally husky (fucking sexy) tone as he spoke to the driver, was the last thing you heard semi-coherently.

You let the car sway you to sleep for the last 10-ish minutes of the drive back, only one handsome man, with long hair and a voice that dripped of sex, waiting behind your lids as they closed.

-🌼🌼🌼-

You were still feeling loopy as Jake helped you up the stairs to the apartment.

You’d had way too much to drink. You needed sleep.

Once you entered the apartment, it was so quiet and dark. . .you needed light. So, you felt against the wall to switch the light on. But, you instantly regretted it, covering your eyes with both hands.

“My eyes!” You yelped, way too dramatically. And when you peeked through your fingers, you saw Jake stooped down, next to Stevie’s dish, giving her a scoop of food. She nudged her little gray head against his hand. Your heart squeezed at the sight. But it was still too bright. “My eyes!”

With two hands still covering your eyes, you sauntered, on unsteady foot in front of the other, back towards the switch you’d used to flip the lights on.

But before you could get to the switch, you knocked into a chair, sending you back onto your ass. Yet again, dramatically.

“Ow!” You moved a hand from your eyes to massage your sore butt, and as you did, you saw Jake moving to switch the lights off. You were once again cloaked in darkness, but he turned the lamp on closest to him. You sighed, your ass not hurting as much as you’d imagined it had. Now you only cared about the lights, how perfectly dimmed the room was. “Ahhh. . .Much better.”

Your lids were drooping again, and you were not looking forward to getting back up on wobbly feet to make the trek to your bedroom.

Deciding the floor was a comfy enough bed for the night, you laid back, curling onto your side, your hands under your left cheek to make a pillow.

-🌼🌼🌼-

Jake’s POV

Her eyes slid closed. I watched her, a small grin on my face. So adorable.

But, she was so gone. I felt bad appreciating her being so cute while she was so incoherent.

So instead of taking advantage, I’d taken it upon myself to watch over her and make sure she was alright all night. I kept my drinking to a minimum so I could keep a careful eye on her.

We’d spent the whole night together, enjoying each other’s company (even if she had been slightly—very—drunk). It’d felt so right.

My heart had beat at being like that with her in a similar way it did when we’d watch New Girl together. But, it was different tonight. Instead of only sitting on a couch, we’d been together, walking around, playing, her willingly (albeit drunkenly) falling asleep on my shoulder, a smooth leg draped over mine (holy fuck, by the way).

We hadn’t really gotten the chance to talk a whole lot, thanks to my brothers demanding our attention. The only talking we had partaken in had been very little. And it’d only been about what she’d thought of the set, little questions she had for me. We’d mostly just taken time to be next to each other.

For me, it’d felt like coming back home.

I had just watched her as she watched the game on a TV in front of us (didn’t peg her as a girl who liked sports, but whatever), occasionally looking over at me to share a secret smile, making my skin hot with want for her.

I’d hoped, sitting there on those barstools, that she’d felt it with me—the whole cheesy ass ‘coming home’ thing.

But then, having to stand there and watch her kiss Josh on the cheek at the end of the night . . .that had been a kick in the fuckin’ ass. I’d literally felt my heart sink in my chest as I watched them, their respective energies feeding off of the other so well. . . they were practically one.

He’d even helped her into the car, once again calling her that ‘baby dragon’ thing that I couldn’t understand at all. I couldn’t understand her the way he could—the way all of the guys could. I hadn’t been around to get to know her with the rest of them. I wasn’t in sync with her like they were—like Josh was.

I was late to the game. Probably too late.

Though, when we got home, I still wanted to help her with a few small things . . . It was impossible for me not to try and help her (even if she didn’t fit as well with me as she did my brother).

And at this moment, I could tell that she was going to let herself sleep on the floor.

But I wasn’t going to let that happen.

Bending down next to her beautiful body, I couldn’t help but bite my lip when I saw her round ass peeking out from the bottom of her shorts. She was filled out in all of the right places—an absolute fucking masterpiece.

Then I heard a little whimper in her sleep. A sigh, as she probably started slipping into dreamland. I felt my dick harden just the slightest bit when I thought of hearing those same whimpers through the walls. . . how she’d said my name in her sleep a few times — moaned it, even. . . Off in her dreams where I could have only hoped to meet her.

I’d spent many mornings so sexually fucking frustrated with how close, yet so far she was. So many times—I was there, right next door to her as my name would slip from her lips. And with only a thin wall between us, I’d jerked my cock into a hand I’d imagined was her sweet pussy, having to bite my lip to keep from saying her name.

Fuck. I palmed at my crotch, willing my dick to soften. Now was not the time.

I touched her shoulder, nudging her a bit. “Y/n. . .come on, wake up. You don’t wanna sleep on the floor.”

She sighed again, “Yes, I do,” she retorted.

And then she moaned as she snuggled further into the carpet. Her moan. Fuck. She was like a damn good drug.

“No, you don’t,” I scooped my hands under her back, ready to carry her to bed. “I’ll carry you if you don’t move yourself. Come on.”

I saw her lids flutter, eyes still closed. A little smirk graced her features. “Carry me, Jakey,” she mused.

There she was using that nickname for me again, I thought. It sounded so much better, sweeter coming from her lips than I’d ever heard it.

And when I let both of my hands totally slip under her, scooping her into my arms, and against my chest, her eyes blinked open, still slightly hooded. Her eyebrows curved in, the look she was giving me telling me she hadn’t believed I would do it.

She wiggled, arguing. “Jake. You don’t have to,” wiggle. “Carry,” wiggle. “Me.”

I gripped her a bit tighter, but did give her a chance to climb out of my arms. “I’ll let you walk if you want to,” I continued, letting my guard down with my next words. “But I really like being this close to you. . .feeling you against me.”

When she looked at me again, it was as if she’d totally sobered at what I’d said (even though I knew better). Her eyes were inquiring, but so full of an emotion I couldn’t fully place in that moment. All I knew was her unnamed emotion somehow perfectly matched the thrum of my heart in my chest.

“Me too.”

And then she looped her arms around my neck, bringing my face down to meet hers, just as we’d made it to her room.

I couldn’t help it. I let myself give in to her apparent want in that moment, and met her lips with mine.

End of Jake’s POV

-🌼🌼🌼-

As Jake carried you further into your room, to your bed, you never let your lips leave his. Even as he laid you down on your bed, you kept kissing him.

Yes, you thought. This. This is what I needed. I needed him.

You knew you weren’t totally sober, but when he’d said what he did about liking the feeling of being close to you. . . it had made your heart leap into your throat with joy. Because you’d been hoping he still felt like that. You’d been hoping so hard to hear words like that, that it had kind of snapped you from your drunken daze.

And having him on top of you, laying his body between your legs that naturally opened to make room for him. . .the feeling was divine.

Having Jake with you, it was more than the alcohol that still lingered in your system. You wished you hadn’t let yourself get so wasted tonight, wished you'd have taken him coming closer to you as a sign to not make tonight ‘like old times’. You realized that you wanted it to be new times—times where Jake was here. Things were different with him around.

And now that you were so far away from the beginnings of him living with you, seeing him show bits of himself, outside of his shroud, throughout June. . . knowing what his lips tasted like—you could admit that having him around was a good type of different.

Your mouth opened, needing his tongue to meet yours. As soon as it entered your mouth, you sucked on it, loving the taste, the feeling of it, safe in your mouth.

Needing to be closer to him, you leaned up the slightest bit. You had to feel your skin against his. Closer, closer.

You separated your mouth from his, your lips wet, probably looking just like his: swollen and pink.

His eyes were dark, lids hooded, encouraging you. You tugged at his shirt, and he got the idea. Thanks to not buttoning his shirts all the way, he was able to slip his short sleeve floral button down over his head. As he did that, you reached around the hem of your old T-shirt, taking it off.

But before you could throw it to the side, he reached a hand out to grab it, turning the front of it to face you. The members of Cream, staring at you from the splotch of white on black material.

“Does it get you off?” He questioned, an eyebrow raised. “Turning me on with these little outfits you wear to the shows?”

You smirked, your eyes hazing with want for him. He’d liked your choice of shirt. It hadn’t irritated him. You had made progress. You weren’t at square one anymore. Thank God.

“You liked it?” You rhetorically asked. “You were all I thought about when I put it on.”

His eyes glazed over, just like your own. He liked that.

He huffed, his mouth forming a grin before leaning down to nip at your lips, throwing the shirt to the side. His hands found your thighs, lifting them around his hips. He sucked your bottom lip, moving his tongue to lick into your mouth, his mouth following yours as you melted into the feeling, needing more.

You pushed him away again, using the time he was leaned back to take your shorts off. He helped you so you didn’t have to awkwardly wriggle out of them. You flashed your eyes at him, smiling with them.

Then once they were gone, you sat up fully, legs falling from around his hips, to help him. You messed with the button of his jeans.

He placed his hand over yours, stopping you. You looked up to question him. And as you did, he was already laying you back down, honed in on the sight of your chest that hadn’t stopped heaving since you’d kissed him.

“Did you think of me when you put this on?” He pulled at the strap of your bra- the same bralette you’d had on the night you’d first kissed. His eyes looked down at the rest of your body, palms running smoothly up your thighs, and over the curves of your hips, giving them a firm squeeze that made you thrust up towards him. His eyes found yours, completely dark. “Don’t start with that.”

Okay, I will, you thought, ready to tease him.

You moved a leg to be between both of his, bending it at the knee, causing it to rub against his crotch ever so slightly, then you brought it back down to lay beside your other leg, looking up at him, eyes innocent.

“Oops,” you smirked, watching his own lips quirk.

But as soon as his mouth lifted, it fell into a frown. His eyes squeezed shut, brows drew in, his jaw suddenly set as he ground his teeth. . .

He looked . . . Frustrated?

He started shaking his head and quickly grabbed his shirt, going to get off the bed.

What the fuck?

It made you sit up again, like you had minutes before, but out of alarm this time.

“Jake?” You worriedly asked, getting off your bed to follow him, clothes be damned.

He didn’t respond, only grumbled something under his breath. You couldn’t understand him and you were wondering what in the hell was going on.

As you followed him out of your room and a few steps to his room at the end of the hallway, you grabbed his arm before he could open the door to his room.

“What’s going on? Are you—?.”

He roughly shook your hand off of his arm.

“Y/n. Go to bed,” he gruffly said, his next words made your throat tighten up even more than his initial tone. “It was a fucking mistake and you need to leave me alone. Go to bed.”

Your mind was suddenly on high alert, ignoring any kind of lingering effects of alcohol, you swallowed the lump in your throat.

What the fuck was his fucking problem?

A mistake? That's what you were?

“Jake. . .,” you went to grab his arm again, but he turned before you could, facing you. His eyes were stern, dark with anger. It stunned you, so opposite of how he’d been all night. You continued on, not letting his reaction to you, deter you, “You don’t. . .,” swallow the tears, y/n. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do,” he confirmed. Your chest tightened, you took a step back. “We can’t keep—just go to bed. Leave me alone.”

Your sadness quickly turned to bitterness. . . spitefulness. All of a sudden, you were extremely aware of your state of undress. You felt completely embarrassed from the rejection. You covered your body the best you could.

“Fine,” you turned quickly on your heel, needing to get away from him and back to the safety of your bedroom. You were suddenly feeling anxious, upset, and ready to recluse. “Good-fucking-night, Jake. I’ll give you what you want. I’ll leave you the fuck alone.”

“Wait, y/n,” you heard his voice behind you.

But you ignored him, gave him a taste of his own medicine.

Asshole. Fucking asshole. How could someone change so quickly? Be two different people in the span of minutes-time? He had just been telling you how he liked being close to you, he’d barely left you all night. . . Even approached you at the bar, for seemingly no reason but to simply be with you.

But now? Now you were a mistake.

Fuck him.

“Y/n. . .please, I’m just—.”

Sharply, you spun to face him once you’d made it to your bedroom. You cut him off. “Fuck you, Jake.”

You let your emotions reflect with an icy glare in his direction.

Just before you shut the door to your room, you saw his face, completely crestfallen.

When you got back into bed, you curled up into yourself, and angry tears were your sad lullaby to get to sleep. You tried to be quiet enough so he wouldn’t possibly hear you.

You’d had enough embarrassment for one night and you didn’t want to give him any more reason to judge you, be angry with you, or worst of all—pity you.

As you fell asleep that night, you couldn’t help but think that his sorrowful expression had matched exactly how you felt. Had he been sad? What gave him the right to be sad when he’d cut it off? Called it a mistake?

You worked to push him as far from your mind as you possibly could. You didn’t want to think of him.

He was impossible to understand. As soon as you thought you had an idea of the man, he changed, confusing the hell out of you.

You tossed and turned, wondering why you still so desperately wanted to understand him. Why did it still matter? He shouldn’t matter.

When you finally faded to a restless sleep, you made the decision that you were going to try your hardest to not give a fucking damn about your roommate.

You apparently weren’t worth his time, so he shouldn’t be worth yours.

You’d meant what you told him.

Fuck Jake Kiszka.

-🌼🌼🌼-

As the week faded into the next, you’d made it your personal mission to make it perfectly clear to him that you were not giving him any of your time or attention.

You used one of his earlier tactics and didn’t come out for anything except to eat, shower, go to work, go to class. You tried to avoid seeing him when you knew he was home, so thankful for the work schedules that still got posted on the fridge.

He now had the additional schedule which showed when they had performances or practices, giving you a couple nights within that week to laze around the apartment with no worries of running into him.

Occasionally, he tried to stop you to talk to you as you would pass each other. But you weren’t having it. You would cut him off with a wave, a short ‘no’ or a curt ‘goodbye’ as you left the apartment to do your own thing.

You wanted to make it clear that you were done with whatever the hell you two had been dancing around for the past month. What he didn’t need to know was that you were mostly doing it to convince yourself that you were done with it.

In the moments he tried to stop you, you would just get hurt all over again that he seemed to be so desperate to beat the dead fucking horse—explain his hateful words. That was all he could possibly want. What else?

And you didn’t want that.

Why did he seem so intent on stopping you to just explain what a mistake being with you had been?

Drawing a line was imperative.

You had to convince yourself that you didn’t still want him and that you didn’t have several passing thoughts of him throughout your days.

It was much harder than you’d anticipated. Being your roommate, he was still everywhere you turned. No matter how hard you tried to escape him, he was there. In your shared home, in your thoughts, in conversations with Josh. . .

And in your fucking dreams.

Several days during that blessed week of ignoring him, you woke up in a sweat wanting only him. Your body was calling out to be touched by him.

And then you had the weak moments. The ones when you’d accidentally run into him, and you wanted to let your guard down, let him know you were hurting more than anything. You wanted to talk to him— wanted to know where he stood.

But every time, you'd bit your tongue to stop yourself.

He’d said it himself—you were a mistake.

So, that’s why you never gave in to the temptation to let him talk, or let him know your own feelings about it all.

-🌼🌼🌼-

Classes were a great distraction from what was going on in your heart and home.

Being able to dedicate your time to something completely unrelated to your roommate was exactly what you needed.

Spending more time on things like class work meant less time to think about Jake.

Though, it wasn’t necessarily doing what your family had intended it to. They’d wanted you to take a summer class to get your mind focused back on writing, use the class as a chance to get your passion for writing back.

But just as it had been before the summer class, your love—your passion for writing just wasn’t there anymore.

For some reason, when Jake had come into your life, it'd helped you realize for the first time in years, just how important music was to you. He brought out this spark that had faded. Being able to be around someone so often who was on the same page when it came to a passion for the art of music—it had done something impeccable for you.

(He’d done it unintentionally—unknowingly—, of course, as he’d hated your guts when you’d started feeling that incredible pull towards music again.)

And then there was the day in your summer class that pieces started clicking in your head. Slight identity crisis, if you may.

It had come to you when you’d been prompted to discuss and write about inspirations for pursuing writing. And in that moment, you’d realized you couldn’t think of any other reason you’d pursued your degree save for you wanting to be just like Elsie. (And the added bonus of your grandfather encouraging against a pursuit in a musical degree- at all costs.)

You’d set your sights on Elsie years ago as your number one role model. Your mother had left you with only your older sister to inspire you. Elsie loved writing, so in turn, you’d decided that you would also love writing.

It was her dream. And, unfortunately, you were only just now realizing that maybe it wasn’t fully yours, as you embarked on your senior year of college.

Terrible timing for Jake to enter your life and bring out that flame you’d always had for music.

Another strange thing that had come along with Jake entering the picture were thoughts of your mother. More than you’d ever really had before.

Thanks to Elsie having to use your forgotten past to help you have a better understanding of Jake, your mom had been in more thoughts than you were comfortable with as of late.

You hated thinking of her. But after that conversation, every time you saw a child with his or her mother, you had this giant burst of longing in your heart that you couldn’t put a name to.

It was truly odd, but the sight brought you this sense of impending healing.

Were you finally on a path to figuring out who you truly were in the aftermath of her leaving?

You had no clue what the pull on your heart meant.

All you knew was, there were a lot of changing feelings that were quite different than anything you’d felt in the past several years of your life. In those many years since your mother had left you broken on the porch step at ten years old—you’d simply gone about everything in life in a sort of monotone style.

Rather than thinking with your heart, you’d just followed a gray wave. You’d never taken a real initiative to understand yourself. The waves of life had carried you, and you’d let them, willingly.

It had been easier—more comfortable— than actually taking time to think about yourself and what you wanted.

But Jake. . .he’d been the cause of bringing about the most feelings you’d had since your mother left in her blaze of glory. He’d brought out pieces of you that you hadn’t come in contact with since you were ten years old and vulnerable, screaming and crying for your mom to come back as she left you, broken.

But with the feelings this time, it truly felt more like a yearning to be more. You felt this sense of understanding for yourself that you hadn’t ever had before.

In some backwards way, he was helping you get to know these pieces of yourself you’d kept in the dark for far too long. Pieces that needed time, attention, and love.

It was fucking weird.

You didn’t understand the anatomy of it all.

But you desperately wanted to learn more about these parts of yourself you were discovering.

-🌼🌼🌼-

In order to push through the class (and your degree), you decided it was a good idea to pair up with a study buddy.

You needed someone to help motivate you to keep going—finish with a skip in your step, rather than falling into a pitiful slump.

It’s why you decided to ask Theo to be that person after class one day.

Surely that was a reason he’d floated back into your life. Help you stay motivated to get this degree. You didn’t know.

And maybe it could be more. . .he would end up assisting to help you get your mind away from Jake. You didn’t need to be distracted by your roommate.

Everything happens for a reason, after all. And maybe these were Theo’s reasons in your life.

He’d agreed with no hesitation, which had made a giant smile plaster to your face.

But why, when you were leaving class, had you felt as though something had fallen to the bottom of your gut?

-🌼🌼🌼-

“Fiction or non?”

You were splayed out on your bedroom floor, with Theo across from you. As he’d pored over his textbook, he kept coming up with questions to ask you.

Sure, it might be cute and endearing in a normal circumstance. But right now, you wanted to focus on studying for a couple of upcoming tests, as summer semesters were the worst at moving so damn quickly.

There were more important matters at hand than nonsensical small talk.

Deciding to humor him (and hopefully get back to the task at hand), you responded. “Hmm. . .,” you sat up from where you’d been laying on your stomach to read about Geoffrey Chaucer. “They both have special things about them—both stretch our minds to understand more about other worlds and our own,” you paused, giving it a second to ponder. “Are we talking writing-wise or reading-wise?”

He chuckled, and winked at you. “It doesn’t have to be something you think so deeply about,” he closed his textbook. What was he doing? You still had to make flash cards! “Pretend we’re playing a game and it’s rapid fire questions.”

You didn’t want to be playing a game. You wanted to be sinking your teeth into the intricacies of this author in order to ace your test.

You shook your head, your eyes stuck on his closed book. “Fuck,” you scratched your eyebrow. Your mind flicked to music: fun to write and read about. You were actually currently reading a book about John Lennon. You had many books on your TBR list about famous musicians. A most intriguing subject, in your opinion. “Non-fiction.”

His face scrunched up. “Nah,” he disagreed. “Fiction.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” his stare was blank in response. “Don’t really have to think too hard about it.”

You tried not to roll your eyes at him. In your opinion, thinking hard about what you were writing or reading was what made it most desirable. It made you venture into undiscovered realms of your mind.

When you went to lean back over your book, the movement made you realize just how badly your bladder was begging to be released.

Stupidly, you thought of the ridiculous work schedule on the fridge.

Why the hell couldn’t you just let yourself go to the damn bathroom without thinking about Jake? You knew it was fucking ludicrous. You just didn’t want to see him. When you pulled up the picture of the fridge on your phone, you saw you were in the clear. He should still be at band rehearsal.

You tapped your open book, giving Theo a sign that he needed to open his back up. “I’m going to the bathroom real quick,” you stood up, the wave of having to pee rushing through you tenfold at the motion. He still hadn’t gotten the hint to open up his textbook. Ugh. “I’ll be back soon and then we will make our cards for the test.”

And as you exited the room, you saw him finally get back to business and open his book back up.

-🌼🌼🌼-

You dried your hands on the towel next to the sink, and took a look at yourself in the mirror.

He sort of annoyed you, but Theo was still cute, and he’d made you happy in high school. You weren’t totally opposed to the idea of kissing him (or maybe more) by the end of the night.

It seemed to you to be another good plan to get your mind off of Jake.

And Theo seemed interested enough. Considering he’d been more interested in learning about you, rather than the material for class all night (irritating, but whatever).

Deciding you looked good enough to return, you opened the door to go back. And as you went to walk out, you stopped at a chest in your way. You got dizzy at the smell—smelled so fucking good—familiar. . .

You looked up.

Jake.

Your eyebrows pinched together, not happy at all that you’d crossed paths. Fucking hell. Why wasn’t he. . .?

“We’ve gotta stop meeting like thi—.”

You held a hand up to silence him, crossing your arms. “Why aren’t you at band practice?”

Why the fuck was he cracking jokes? You were not in the mood.

“Ended early,” his face hardened when he shrugged, stating it plainly.

“Why didn’t you just stay with the guys?” You asked, secretly glad he didn’t. For whatever reason. “You could have hung out with them instead of coming back here.”

“Oh,” he stuck his chin out at the word and leaned a shoulder against the door-hinge. He raised a brow and crossed his arms to mirror you. “I see.”

You definitely didn’t glance at how his bicep flexed as his fingers wrapped around it. And you didn’t take time to appreciate his beautiful hair. . . had it started getting slightly longer?

You shook your head, retraining your eyes.

“Tell me, Jake, what do you see?” You snapped, flicking your eyes up to his.

He scoffed, rolled his eyes. “Saw that guy lying on your bedroom floor, waiting for you. He was even sweet enough to wave at me when he saw me pass your room,” he sarcastically remarked, waving his hand to mimic.

“We’re just studying,” you hushed back, feeling the (unnecessary) need to reassure him.

He scoffed. “You think that’s all it is to him?”

You narrowed your eyes and pursed your lips before you pulled him by his T-shirt into the bathroom. You weren’t going to discuss this in a place Theo could possibly hear.

“I know that’s all it is,” you released his shirt like you were repulsed by the touch, when in reality you wanted nothing more than to pull it completely off of him. Damn him. "Why does it matter?"

“It doesn’t. Just think it’s funny how you’re so naive to believe he doesn’t want more.”

“He doesn’t.”

“Do you?”

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t. I just think it’s also a little funny that you might want me out just so you can fuck that guy in your bedroom,” he nodded his head in the direction of your room.

Oh. He was taking it there. Okay.

“Yeah? And if I wanted to?” You jutted your chin out the slightest bit, bringing your arms closer, to press against your chest. “How is it any of your damn business?”

He stepped once towards you, eyeing your chest, the tops of your breasts revealed, pushed up to the top of your tank. Your skin flushed, heart racing.

His voice lowered. “It became my business the night you spread your legs for me at Baby’s,” one more step towards you, his eyes locking with yours. Fuck. “When I had you moaning my name while my mouth played between your pretty legs,” another step. “I think you gave yourself away that night. I don’t buy this little act.”

Oh.

Fuck. . . If your heart wasn’t racing.

You blinked, shaking your head. You tried to stand firm. “Wh-what act?” Dammit. Why were you stuttering?

Stand your ground, y/n, you thought, motivating yourself to stay strong.

But as he took one more step in, your body was effectively once again trapped between his body and a sink. Thankfully, he hadn’t pressed himself up to your front, so you weren’t distracted by that.

You tried to hold your own.

But shit. . .he was so close. Your skin flared with heat, your heart still beating erratically in your chest.

As you were making direct eye contact with the chest of his white t-shirt, you craned your neck to see his face fully.

“What act, Jacob?”

He shook his head. A little smirk played at his mouth. He brought his hand up to hold your cheek. Your skin was on fire for him and his touch.

You couldn’t help it when you leaned into his hand, letting your cheek press into his calloused flesh.

He licked his lips. “You tell me,” he whispered lowly, nodding his head once at you.

And you couldn’t help it, his deep brown eyes pulled you in. He was begging to be touched. You had to feel him.

Leaning in, you held his cheek just as he held yours. He then took the chance, and captured your lips with his.

Ah. His lips. So soft.

Your vision was hazy, eyes still open, you saw how his eyebrows dipped in with a moan. You matched the sound, closing your eyes, and slipped your tongue into his mouth, tangling it with his.

You heard him shut the door with the hand that wasn’t holding your face.

He then moved that hand from your face, reaching both hands under your ass, giving it a firm squeeze before he lifted you the short distance to sit on the bathroom countertop.

You bit his bottom lip, getting another small moan from him. He did the same to you and then soothed the spot with his tongue. You sighed into his mouth.

Reaching both hands up, you sunk them into his dark, brunette locks. He matched every movement of your lips with his own, and then licked one wet stripe on the roof of your mouth.

You were able to gasp for air when he moved his mouth from yours to give the softest, small kisses to your neck. Though it didn’t last long before he turned his pecks into wet, open-mouthed kisses. The slightest stubble of hair on his lip skimmed against your sensitive skin. He worked from under your jaw, all the way up, to the tender spot behind your ear.

Shivering with a sigh, you gripped his hair tighter, pulling him in as close as he could be to you, on the counter. You felt his hardening length against your center when you did so, making you immediately grind into him.

And when he did the same to the other side of your neck, this time, he nipped at the skin behind your ear. You bucked your hips into his. He released a groan that echoed through the small bathroom, making you want to melt into it.

“More,” you breathed, clutching him closer, making sure the front of you stayed connected to him. Feeling his hard length through the material of his jeans was almost too much, but you craved it. You needed it.

More.

But, the next moment, you heard a little cough from your bedroom, right next door.

It snapped you from your daze. You were suddenly hyper aware that it was not just you two in the apartment. You had to stop.

You pushed him back, jumping off the counter. When you looked in the mirror to check your face and neck, your lips were swollen and your cheeks were flushed. Your neck was still pink from where he’d been. You checked where he’d bit behind your ear, and seeing the redness back there made you want to hop right back onto that counter. Let him have his way with you— right there. Theo be fucking damned.

But you knew better.

Tucking some hair behind your ear, you tried to make yourself look slightly presentable.

From behind you, he was brushing a hand through his hair, when he went to smooth a hand over his cheeks, his jaw stretching with the motion. He was contemplative.

His eyebrows drew together, curious. You couldn’t tell if he was upset. He mostly looked . . .confused.

He removed his hand from his face when his eyes found yours in the mirror, open and wondering. He looked desperate to understand.

“What do you want, y/n?”

You didn’t know what in the hell to tell him.

You wanted Jake. And you wanted him bad. But somehow saying it out loud seemed too difficult at the moment.

And how could you say that to him when he’d so recently, blatantly told you that you were a mistake?

“I don’t know, Jake,” you whispered back, still looking at your blushing cheeks, messy hair, and freshly kissed lips. You’d need a minute to let your skin return to its normal shade before going back to your room.

You turned to face him.

When you saw him, looking so beautiful, so lost. . . You thought of how lost you’d felt for the past couple weeks. His words were once again flashing back through your head.

“It was a fucking mistake and you need to leave me alone.”

It still hurt as you could see him so clearly in the doorway of his bedroom, angry and insistent that you do what he said and leave him alone.

But tonight? Crowding you in here to make out on the bathroom counter? Did he truly want that? For you to leave him alone?

“What do you want?” You leveled him with a stare, your tone sharp, but keeping your voice low since Theo was one room over. You pointed a finger in his chest. “You say you want me to leave you alone, but then you trap me in here like this?”

He shook his head, a dimple showing again with a sarcastic grin. After tucking a lock of hair behind his ear, he put the same hand in his pocket.

“Oh, there is no way you are going to turn this around on me,” he matched your quiet tone, understanding. “And trap you? Okay, Little Miss ‘Fuck Me, Jake,’” he used air quotes to remind you of your words from the night at Baby’s.

Fuck.

Of course he remembered you’d said that. Why wouldn’t he?

You decided to ignore it, focusing back on him.

“You’re the one who said it was a mistake! That I needed to leave you alone,” you protested, anger flaring in your chest.

He covered his eyes with a hand, the veins in the hand catching your eye. You’d never noticed how masculine his hands were. And damn if he didn’t know how to use them . . . Even in this moment, debating with him, you wanted them touching every part of you. You wanted his skilled fingers, flexing inside of you.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” His eyes were sad when he moved his hand, when you saw the brown irises again. But there was a fire behind them still. “Dammit, y/n. Why do you insist on assuming the worst about me all the fucking time? I’m not the one who can’t make up my mind about what I want,” he leaned back against the wall behind him, crossing his arms. “One minute you’re kissing me. You’re with me, naked and ready as I’m pressing into you,” his voice was being raspy, along with the picture he was drawing. . . It made your cheeks pink. You could still feel what he felt like, pressing against you, throbbing. . .so close to being inside of you. He went on, “And the next moment you’re shoving me away from you, making sure to tell me that Josh doesn’t need to know what we’re doing.”

Of course some of this had to do with Josh. You’d had the smallest inkling, based on how weird he’d acted when you set the rules.

Stupid.

“I knew you were making it all weird with Josh. . . is this all about Josh?! You know that he and I—.”

“No! It’s about you and how you make it impossible for us to—.”

“You told me to go away!”

“And you told me to stop,” he said back, his smoky voice still hushed. “More than once.”

Your chest heaved, knowing he was right, but you were so lost on how to explain it all. “There were reasons every time.”

“Reasons,” he scoffed. “So are you going to keep having these reasons? Keep stopping it? Why do you keep letting it happen if all you’re going to do is make us stop?”

“Last time you stopped us, Jake!” You defended, focusing on keeping your voice low. “Not me. You walked away and called it a mistake.”

He covered his face with both hands, growling. You shushed him.

He took his hands away to show his jaw set, clenching with frustration. “You were drunk, y/n!” He begged you to understand, “I wasn’t going to do anything with you without you being in full and total control of yourself.”

You were sure your expression showed it all clicking. You blinked at him. It all made so much sense now.

And what he’d done? His true intentions? Fuck. Sexy as hell.

Maybe you really did need to stop assuming the worst. You just couldn’t help it. It was a trauma response. Jumping to conclusions, thinking that people didn’t want you. . .

Your mom didn’t want you, so you were always convinced other people wouldn’t either.

Especially men who were as beautiful and mesmerizing as Jake Kiszka.

Damn. Now it really was all on you. How did you even begin to lay it all out?

You looked him dead in the face, completely unsure of how to articulate the mess in your head.

“I don’t know,” you covered your face with both hands, mimicking him and frustratedly groaning into your palms. When you removed them from your face, you tucked them into your front pockets. You decided to assure him of one thing. For whatever reason, you wanted—needed him to know this. “I do want you. I want what we almost had in the bathroom at Baby’s,” You stepped towards him, wanting to be close to him again. You placed a delicate hand on his chest. He looked down at you, as you looked up into his eyes, reaching to hold your hand on his chest. Your skin tingled at his touch. “I need to feel you, to be with you. . . it just never seems like the right time. There’s always something.”

You didn’t know why you’d suddenly felt the urge to be vulnerable with him. He kept your hand on his chest, holding you, his eyes meeting yours in understanding.

And you knew then that it was just him. Jake Kiszka, in and of himself, made you feel this strange sense of safety, comfortability.

And it was different from the kind his twin had offered you as your friend for so many years.

With Jake, you weren’t just friends. You weren’t even really friends. . .it was something else—an intense, unavoidable attraction. The safe feeling came combined with this desire to be with him.

He felt like a resting ground.

It was weird.

But you liked it.

He smoothed a thumb over your hand on his chest. You held his deep gaze, getting lost in it.

And out of nowhere, he leaned down, kissing your lips with his. Just for a moment.

You felt it all the way down to your toes. The feeling of him so close, with one simple kiss from his soft lips, it felt perfectly intimate.

He released his hold on your hand, wrapping his hand around your waist instead, eyes connected with yours. It was as though he just wanted to touch you, have his hands on you.

It was what you wanted, too. Just the feeling of his hand, as it moved down to just over your hip, his thumb on the skin underneath the hem of your gray tank top. . .it felt right.

He penetrated the thickness in the air with his low, gravelly tone. His eyes were vulnerable as he asked, “Do you want that? To find the right time?”

You reached a hand up, holding his handsome face. You smoothed a thumb over his skin, tracing a freckle on his cheek. “I do. I promise I do,” you blinked up at him, needing his answer to that question. “And do you? Wanna find the right time?”

This was so much, butterflies flew rampant in your tummy.

The grin he gave you was loose, his eyes relieved and open. “I really do.”

It felt so amazing to hear it straight from his lips. He really wanted it too.

You’d overthink all of this later.

He leaned down to kiss you again. You reciprocated, for just a moment, letting your lips move with his.

Then you pulled back, your hand falling from his face.

You nodded at the door. “I gotta get back to studying.”

His hand that was holding your hip squeezed slightly, your skin heating at it. You caught his eye, the intense feeling setting in your beating heart.

“Is that all you’re doing?” His eyes were dark and questioning, making your head spin. “Studying?”

You winked at him, still holding onto your teasing from earlier. “It’s whatever I want it to be.”

His eyes seemed to darken more, pulling you in so your chest touched his. So warm. “I really don’t want to hear another guy fucking you through these walls.”

You pressed closer to him, your body thrumming with fire. “Funny coming from the guy who told me I could just wear earplugs when he brought women over,” then you pulled back, his hand fell. His eyebrow lifted, a tiny smirk lifted his lips. You continued, “Why don’t you go ahead and get a pair of your own, hm?”

You patted his cheek, reluctantly parting from him. Before leaving the bathroom, you chanced one more glance at your appearance. Not quite as flushed as before, though your cheeks were still blushing. You’d find a way to pass it off. Whatever. You’d been gone too long.

You were about to open the bathroom door when, from behind, his voice stopped you. You felt a spark as his hand delicately touched yours.

“Hey.”

You swiveled on your heel, raised your brows in question. “Yeah?”

“Do you think you could come to our gig this weekend? It’s a bigger one.”

Did you work this weekend? You couldn’t remember.

All you knew was that, suddenly, you really wanted to be at their show.

“I’m not sure . . . Depends on work.”

“I would love—,” he put a fist in front of his mouth and cleared his throat. “The guys and I would love it if you could be there,” he shook his head, seeming to come to terms with an inner battle. “For me, I would just love to look out and see your beautiful face in the crowd.”

Your mind was fuzzy. All of this felt so unreal, yet so real all at once. He really wanted you there? And had he just called you beautiful?

“I’ll try my best,” you slapped on a small grin, trying to play hard to get, masking your inner shock. You wanted to keep him on his toes, like he’d kept you for the past weeks.

He scrunched his brows in and messed with his bottom lip. “Yeah,” he nodded, clearing his throat. “Yeah, totally get it. Just text me and let me know.”

Anytime he messed with his mouth, it was a distraction. You had to keep yourself from watching too close. It really didn’t help that you knew the feeling of those full, pink lips. . .

And as you walked the short distance to your bedroom, you realized something else.

Had he just asked you to text him?

What was all of this? This new territory you had just discovered?

-🌼🌼🌼-

And a couple nights later, when you were sitting on the couch watching New Girl, Jake came to sit at his end of the couch.

Once you’d finished the episode he’d sat down to watch with you, he cleared his throat, making you look over at him.

He was already looking at you. It made your stomach flurry. You decided to look back at the TV, nervous under his gaze.

He spoke, keeping your ear in his direction, you paused the show. “We should start the series over. You know, start at the beginning together.”

You smirked, feeling a rush of giddy happiness and excitement buzz through you.

“Yeah, sure,” you coolly respond, starting the show from scratch.

And as Jess began the first episode, you peeked quickly over at him, a content smile resting on his lips as he lounged at his end of the sofa.

-🌼🌼🌼-

And for the next few nights, Jake kept coming back. He would sit on the couch with you, simply to watch your show.

Just to share that quiet time at the end of each day with you.

Whenever he would come to sit down, your nerves would translate to a dizziness of butterflies in your stomach.

Though, it felt like the most natural thing in the world to laugh with him, share popcorn or pizza, look at each other when a character would say something particularly hilarious. . .

But neither of you ever moved to kiss the other. You know . . . make it anything more than two people watching a TV show.

It almost seemed like an unspoken rule that you were not doing that again . . .

. . .yet.

Both of you, seeming to wait for the right time.

But you sure liked those quiet nights.

These nights with him made your house feel like a home. . . comfortable and safe.

-🌼🌼🌼-

On Friday night, you got off work a little early.

It was the night before the guys’ show, so Jake obviously wasn’t home due to a last minute rehearsal and details. You'd seen as much on the rehearsal schedule on the fridge.

You took your time showering, shaving, exfoliating, pampering yourself fully, with the apartment to yourself. . .

Once finished, you realized you really wanted to watch New Girl. Even though Jake wasn’t home, you were in the middle of one of your favorite parts of the show. You had to watch the next couple of episodes.

You’d just rewind to watch again when he was home next.

You couldn’t help it. The two of you had been binging and you'd come to your favorite part in the whole show. It was arguably the best part—what the audience waits for from practically the first episode.

Jess and Nick were finally about to bite the bullet, get their shit together and get together.

And as you sat with a couple slices of warmed up cheese pizza from the night before, cuddled up with Stevie purring against your blanket covered thighs. . .something clicked.

As they looked at each other throughout the whole episode of “Cooler,” you were angry with them. So angry that they were so close to finally being together, yet so far. . .

“Not like this!” Nick said to Jess, stopping her from kissing him. He suddenly sounded and looked very much like you had felt recently.

He looked desperate to make it the best it could be, get Jess to understand that it had to be just right. They’d waited long enough, and he wanted it to feel like it deserved to.

You couldn’t stop it when it pulled you right back to your real life. Your current situation.

And if you were upset with Nick and Jess for piddling around and not just acting on their feelings, not letting loose when it was so obvious they needed to . . . Then why the hell were you dragging it out so damn long with Jake?

You felt like the two of you were essentially Nick and Jess. You were roommates, with so much building between you—everything and nothing to lose all at once.

You wanted to act on it. You wanted it all. It was time.

No, it was past time.

And as Nick and Jess finally kissed, you decided.

The gig was tomorrow. You were off work early enough to go. . .

You were going to the show, and you weren’t going to stop anything that may happen afterwards this time.

-🌼🌼🌼-

As you left for work the next morning, you noticed a piece of paper sitting on the dining room table with your name on it, along with a sticky attached to it with an address and a little scribbled note underneath.

Just in case

-J

Your tummy fluttered.

You’d been running late, so you hadn’t had time to look at it, tucking it into your bag to look at later.

-🌼🌼🌼-

In the quietness of the record store, you opened it up to find the setlist.

Grinning, you checked it over. Every song on the list were ones you knew. Save for one near the bottom.

Edge of Darkness.

Suddenly curious about the song, you wondered. . . Was this song the reason he wanted you there?

-🌼🌼🌼-

Due to stupid-ass New York traffic and thinking you’d let Stevie run out of the apartment, only to find her hidden behind clothes in your closet, you were running roughly forty-five minutes late for their gig.

You’d texted Jake to let him know you were running late, but hadn’t received a text back. Momentarily, you’d been afraid of him being upset with you for being late, your stomach falling when he hadn’t responded for the thirty-ish minute drive to the venue after you’d sent it.

Then, you realized he was on stage performing, so of course he wouldn’t respond.

Whenever you’d sent the text, your hands had been extremely shaky, checking your text a million times for grammatical errors, even after you’d sent it. It was seriously like a ridiculous high school crush.

Dumb.

You still believed that if you just fucked him and got it out of your system, some of those juvenile feelings would come to pass.

As an adult woman, you didn’t need to care so deeply for how a man might respond to you. There was no use for that, and you thought yourself ludicrous for it.

Though, you really did feel terrible as traffic took so long, delaying your arrival to the venue. Your normal road rage came out a few times, honking your horn and cursing as people would drive several miles below the speed limit in front of you.

You just wanted to get there.

-🌼🌼🌼-

When you did get there, the guys were playing their hearts out as you had to squeeze through a mass of sweaty, singing bodies, alcohol sloshing whenever you’d pass through.

The establishment had two levels, so you decided to climb some stairs to watch from a higher level, hoping for less of a crowd from that vantage point.

And when you’d made it up there, you realized it was still crowded. But it wasn’t nearly as bad as below. You found a semi-clear space to claim, a thankfully nice view of all of the guys.

The first thing you noticed when you looked at Josh was his hair. He’d told you recently that he was trying to grow it out on the sides, going for a full head of curling hair. You hadn’t seen him recently enough to see the progress, though, and it looked great on him.

“All right!” Josh had screamed into the mic, hyping up the packed house, receiving screams from everyone watching. Jake strummed a little note which made you immediately hone in on him, but he seemed irritated, strumming a few more times, shaking his head.

Josh glanced over at his twin, sensing the issue, and he smiled back at the crowd. “How we feeling?!” He raised his hands, eliciting more screams as Jake continued strumming, finally gaining some help from someone in their little backstage crew. The curly headed twin gave Jake another look, but Jake’s back was turned as he worked with the crew member to get the problem figured out.

Josh walked over to his twin, checking out the problem for himself. They were having the smallest conversation before Jake shook his head at Josh, and then the crew member. He turned around, effectively giving up on the issue. He played another chord, checking, but his brows were still drawn in with irritation.

What was going on? Was he okay? You suddenly had an incredibly impulsive urge to go check on him. But you stood your ground as he felt out a few more notes, shrugging shortly and giving a curt nod to Josh as a go ahead.

Josh once again smiled so wide it looked like it hurt. You could tell he was trying his hardest to alleviate any sort of tension for the crowd. Fortunately, the crowd seemed oblivious, playing into it as a sort of bit, it seemed.

You took a few seconds to send a text to your sweet, empathetic friend to let him know you were there and that you wanted to get a drink after the show.

You hated seeing him stressed- especially on stage. You were feeling it with him and with Jake.

“How about a new one?” He asked, receiving a plethora of yells and screams. You smiled with the crowd. “This next one is called Edge of Darkness. . .and it’s about. . .the edge of darkness.”

You giggled at him. He was a great frontman. The people were soaking it all up, laughing with him, and screaming for more.

But you had to check back in on Jake. He seemed to be doing better, still upset, but he smiled tightly to a few screaming girls in front.

He started playing, his face saying that something was not blending together like you knew he wanted it to. But you couldn’t tell the difference, so you knew the crowd couldn’t, either.

It didn’t stop him from turning to check the amp a couple more times before suddenly, he was ripping through the most erotic guitar solo you’d ever heard him play live.

Fuck. The song was called the ‘Edge of Darkness’, and it was ironic because you felt like you were on the edge of some kind of dark shit. Watching him manipulate those strings with such precision and intent, his hips fucking (yes, fucking) into his guitar. It was unlike anything else he’d ever done with that guitar. . .you were absolutely sure of it.

You were sweating. And you knew it wasn’t from proximity to any people around you. No, it was from watching him go to this secret place that you wanted to join.

His facial expressions were driving you insane. All you could imagine was seeing those faces above you as your body replaced the guitar. Bent over, with him fucking into you with the same vigor he was giving his instrument.

Then he threw it behind his fucking head. It got you every. time. He made it look so effortless— so easy for him to balance it there (though you knew it wasn’t), while he still played all of the intricate chords. He was a natural—a true rockstar.

You wondered what else he was a natural at.

You were squirming underneath your skin, your palms were clammy and when you moved a bit, you noticed your thong was uncomfortably damp between your legs. And your jeans made it impossible to move to fix the issue.

These solos of his. . .fuck. They were the sole cause for your sexual frustration after these shows. Why you’d had to replace vibrators in the past month.

But tonight? Tonight, you wouldn’t need the help of your hand or a tool. No, tonight, you planned on going home with him— to take care of it with his help.

-🌼🌼🌼-

But as you waited out in the bar area after the show, after sending Jake a text on how well he did, you were met with radio silence on his end.

It sat there, glaring at you in the blue bubble.

You, 10:43 p.m.: You fuckin killed it. So glad I came.

It had now been several minutes since the show had ended and since you’d sent the message, and looking at the time on your phone, you realized it had now been closer to an hour.

What was taking them so long? Their crew packed their shit up now . . . so where were they?

You weren’t able to wonder too much longer, hearing Josh’s voice come up right behind you.

But he didn’t have his usual bounce. He sounded super pissed.

“Your roommate’s a dick,” he sat in the seat at the bar next to you. He ran two hands through his growing hair and then put both of his hands over his face. He sat there like that until the bartender came up, removing them when they asked what he wanted. “Strongest thing you have.”

“Josh?” You tentatively reached a hand out to touch his bare shoulder. He’d worn his little brown vest he loved so much, sans a shirt underneath. “You okay?”

When he looked at you, he looked sorry for how he’d been acting. And he said as much.

“I’m sorry, y/n. Jake just—,” he put his face into his crossed arms on the bar to growl, then he faced you again. “He’s been in a piss mood all fucking night, and when he’s mad, I feel it all the way down to my bones. I also just get really fed up with his little attitude he gets when something goes wrong. It’s annoying as hell and I get tired of it.”

You could relate—you also hated Jake’s pissant attitude when he was upset over something. Though, in this circumstance, you felt inclined to be the devil’s advocate.

“Josh. . .you also get upset when things go wrong. You’re the biggest perfectionist I know.”

“Apparently you don’t know Jake, then. And you’re one to talk!” He spat. Then he groaned again, his eyes sympathetic when he looked at you. “I’m sorry. I know. I agree with you. I’m sorry. He just. . . seemed off all night and it already bothers me when he’s upset over something and he wasn’t telling me everyth— my twin intuition always knows when he isn’t telling me everything. And tonight he sure as hell had something else on his mind that he refused to give any weight to,” the bartender came up with a shot of something. Josh threw it back, and shook his head, coughing just a bit. His eyes bulged the slightest bit.

You couldn’t help your little laugh at him. He needed that. Take the fucking edge off. “Strong like you wanted?”

He gave you a grin, his eyes easier than they were before. You relaxed, realizing you were absolutely feeling that tension with him. You felt especially better when he waved the server back over to ask for a salty dog. That’s more like it.

“Anyway,” he started, swiveling his body to be facing towards you, one arm on the bar. “Sam and Daniel didn’t even have to be subjected to it. They left to meet up with a couple of their other friends before he exploded on me. Just me! And they don’t get those same inklings from him that I do. Being a twin is both a blessing and a curse. I swear we fuckin’ share a brain sometimes.”

His movements, facing you like this on his barstool, made you think of when Jake had sat next to you like this—the night he’d kept you close, taken you home, and then cut things short. Everything you’d felt that night coming back tenfold.

. . . Where was he? It didn’t matter where he was. Really. But you were curious.

“Where is Jake?” You tried to play it cool, because that’s what you were. Cool. It was nothing. You went ahead and softened the question by complimenting his growing hair. “And I like your hair.”

“Thanks. Biotin vitamins, I swear to God,” he patted the sides of his ‘do, giving you a cheeky smirk. “And Jake—. Thank you,” he said to the bartender, giving her a quick wink as she sat his drink on his coaster. “He went back to your place. Didn’t wanna stay around for a good time. He was not in the mood.”

Your heart sank.

What? He’d gone home?

But he'd asked you to come tonight? Had he gotten your texts? Surely he had. There was no reason he wouldn’t’ve. All of a sudden, you felt extremely stupid for sending them. . .for thinking anymore of tonight than you should have. For worrying about him from the balcony. When he didn’t even care to stay to see you.

He was the most unpredictable asshole and you were foolish to think, for even a split second, that he wasn’t.

-🌼🌼🌼-

Luckily, Josh was ready to end the night fairly early.

You were glad because you weren’t in the mood to entertain after having your feelings hurt (stupidly) by Jake leaving and not telling you. It was the smallest thing to be upset over, you knew. Your heart had gotten ahead of you, and into something ridiculous.

On your drive home, you kept telling yourself that you were done with all Jake related thoughts. You shouldn’t give two shits about the man. Really. He’d been a jerk from day one. And even though he’d had a few instances of being someone so wonderful. . . he kept doing things that just reminded you that maybe he was just incapable of being consistent.

You were worried about what you’d go home to. Afraid of hearing him and a girl from his bedroom, seeing them on your couch. . . You were tired of not being able to keep up with him. It was exhausting.

And as much as you told yourself he didn’t matter, you knew you were lying to yourself. You’d made him matter the past couple months—let him matter. Too many times you’d let him get to you. And as much as you wanted to regret it, you couldn’t fully let yourself do that yet.

The stubborn, stupid part of you wanting to give him a chance. Wondering what had happened tonight that got him so upset.

You cared. . .even though you really wished you didn’t.

So as you traipsed through your front door, you were relieved when all of the lights were turned off, and there was no sight or sound of a woman. Only Stevie, who came up to purr against your calves. Feeling bad for your hungry kitty, you quickly went to drop your purse to the table so you could feed her.

But when you looked in her dish, there was already fresh kibble in the bowl. You hadn’t fed her before you’d left. . .

Had Jake . . .? Obviously. Your heart perked at the gesture.

Then, the sound of a guitar being strummed from his bedroom stopped your thoughts. Stevie went to eat, and you left her to do so as you walked towards the sound.

You weren’t choosing your path. . . your feet were simply leading you, your mind hardly keeping up with what you were going to do once you got to his room.

Just felt a want to see him. Talk to him.

Why?

You’d worry about that later. Didn’t want to think about that for the time being.

Once you got to his door, you noticed it wasn't fully closed. You didn’t think as you pushed it open.

And then, there you were. And there he was, facing the door, his concert attire still fully on. He looked up at you from his spot, stopping the strumming abruptly.

But his eyes weren’t kind. He wasn’t happy. He was still feeling the anger Josh had been talking about.

Not giving two shits how he’d react, you didn’t hold back. You were still pissed, too. At him.

“It’s not fucking kind to invite someone to something and then leave them there without a damn hello or goodbye.”

He blinked, his lip curling to show a sarcastic smile. “You’re gonna pull that shit?”

You stepped further into his room, coming close enough to him that your knees were almost touching his, where he sat at the edge of his bed, his hand clutching the acoustic with a tight grip. Too tight.

“What the fuck, Jake? Of course I’m going to ‘pull that shit.’ It was a fuckin’ prick move and I didn’t appreciate it.”

“It’s a prick move to keep someone waiting for a response about whether or not you’ll be somewhere when I can see damn well your schedule on that fridge, saying all week that you didn’t work tonight,” he got up to place his guitar on the stand next to his bed. He kept careful to not touch you as he moved. Wow. He placed it delicately, in stark contrast to his sharp movements. He spun on his heel to face you. “Why don’t you care, y/n? You don’t have to fucking come if you don’t care. I’d rather you stay home if you don’t want to be there when I invite you.”

“What made you think I don’t care?!”

“You kept me hanging! All week,” he angrily brushed a hand through his hair, growling with the motion when a ring got stuck in the locks. “Fuck!” He started pulling down his bed covers, not looking at you as he argued. “You don’t do that when it’s my brother. He wants you there, you’re fuckin’ there. With me, when I ask you, you’re always late and you barely even tell me you’re coming. It’s obvious who you’re really going to see and I’m tired of you acting like you care about me when you really only care about Josh.”

“What?! First of all, you knew I worked the night of your first show. I didn’t want to. . .I got fucking called in— so don’t you dare hold that against me!” You came closer to him, hitting his arm to make him stop the unmaking of his bed. “Quit doing that and fucking listen to me!”

He went rigid, throwing the covers dramatically, stopping like you asked. He stood stiff as a board with his arms crossed at his chest. He motioned a hand for you to continue, almost mocking. “Go on. Enlighten me.”

You shoved his chest. “Stop it!” You crossed your own arms, your heart beating so hard in your chest. “Stop with the Josh shit. Anytime either of you ask, I’m there. I’m sorry I didn’t let you know sooner about tonight. I’ve just been—I don’t know,” you’d been thinking about him. How badly you wanted to do him after the show tonight. “Distracted?”

“School?” He questioned, seeming genuinely concerned.

You shook your head, not wanting to lie. “No. Not school. I don’t know how to explain—,” you looked into his eyes. They were hardening again. “I don’t know. Just distracted.”

He shook his head. He was in the dark. There was no way he’d know the full truth unless you told him. But you weren’t sure how to articulate it. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, his jaw set. “Thank you, y/n. I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”

“Jake— seriously. Please sto—.”

“I just—dammit!” He combed a hand through his hair and got the same ring stuck. Having enough, he took the one piece of offensive jewelry off, and placed it delicately on his desk behind him. He locked eyes with you again. “The other night in the bathroom, you—I could have sworn you—but you—you told me— I just can’t keep up!”

“I can’t keep up with you!” You yelled back, momentarily worrying about neighbors. It was very late.

You were at a loss.

You surveyed him, his chest was heaving like yours. Walking a few steps forward, your chest was almost touching his— you softly grabbed at the front of his light red T-shirt, eager for him to hear. His breathing seemed to slow at you being so close. Your eyes held each other, his were questioning.

It was now or never. The frantic beating of your heart, sounding in your ears. You were shaking. You were tired of him thinking he knew best.

What you were most tired of was tiptoeing around—the barely missing each other.

“I’m only asking one more time. What do you want?” He begged, reminding you of Ryan Gosling in The Notebook.

You would have giggled at the similarity if you weren’t feeling the seriousness of this moment.

There was so much to say, but only one thing left to say, all at once. . .

You stood there, sharing breaths, for a few still seconds. Could have been minutes. You were lost in the beautiful gaze of his deep, dark eyes.

Your heart slowed, your breath catching in your throat while your stomach dropped to your knees.

“I want you to fuck me,” you said lowly, grabbing at his shirt with a sturdier hand. You weren’t scared—only sure. So fucking sure. And beyond ready.

His jaw went slack. It almost looked like he wanted to say something to challenge you, but he bit his lip. Instead, he grabbed softly at your jaw, curving his hand up to cradle your head, softly under your flowing hair.

“Well I can fucking do that.” Was all he said as he dove in, securing your lips with his.

He sucked on your bottom lip and penetrated your mouth with his smooth tongue. He tasted like minty gum and cigarettes. Usually, you found it repulsive to kiss someone with the taste of nicotine in their mouth, but with Jake . . . It was suddenly everything you’d ever wanted in a kiss.

You lost yourself in the moment. In him. There was nothing stopping you now.

Continuing to kiss you, he turned you both, until the backs of your legs softly hit the edge of his bed. Taking that as your cue, you went to sit down on the sheets. You unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, his delicious hips right at eye level with you now. He took initiative and pushed them the rest of the way down, stepping out of them.

Then all you could see in front of you was him, bursting at the seams in his pink, AE briefs. Fuck, he was so cute and sexy all at once. You didn’t know how he did it.

Your mouth watered as you went to pull down his briefs. But he put a hand on yours to stop you, the cold metal of his rings a contrast to your heated skin.

You looked up, your eyebrows dipping in question.

“Not yet,” he corrected. Then he took his shirt off, exposing his beautifully soft, tanned, and perfectly toned chest. A long necklace laid against his stomach, and you used it to pull him down to you.

You laid back, his legs coming to rest in between yours as he crawled onto the bed to follow you. He unwrapped the necklace from his neck, putting it on his small bedside table. Using the time he was preoccupied, you pushed his underwear down his thighs, watching his face to see his reaction.

He teasingly rolled his eyes at you.

“Damn, woman,” he chuckled under his breath, showing his perfectly straight teeth. Beautiful man. He finished the job, kicking them off. “One track mind or what?”

Rolling your eyes back at him, you gave a quiet grin and clicked your tongue. “Whatever, Kiszka.”

But he wasn’t wrong. You wanted to see him. Fully.

And you were glad you got your way, because fuck.

He was stunning. Even more so when you could fully see it, without the dimness of the bathroom lights at Baby's. How could a cock be so pretty?

You reached out to touch him. He shivered at the feeling of your cool skin on his heated, swollen flesh. So soft, smooth. . .thick.

Shit.

His precum was already leaking from his pretty pink tip.

Your mouth was watering. Your need to have your hands on him clouded your every thought.

But before you could do anything more than run your fingers over him, he was moving his body to be on top of yours, your hands falling from him. You edged up the bed, him following after you. His eyes were hungry, and his hands were purposeful and strong as he quickly unfastened your jeans, pulling them off in one smooth motion.

Your pussy throbbed at how close it was to happening. How close you were to finally feeling him. Fulfilling the need you’d discovered too long ago.

Taking off your cropped t-shirt as he stripped you of your panties, you hissed as your wet mound met the air of his room. You made quick work of your bra.

He sat above you, gently cupping your bare pussy, while watching your naked chest rise and fall as you took several deep breaths, waiting. You ground into the palm of his hand, needing the friction. He then moved his hands, grazing them up your thighs, hips, waist, and finally let them settle on the outer curve of your breasts.

Your skin grew goosebumps, your nipples hardening to peaks in the cool air of his bedroom. He seemed mesmerized. His mouth was slightly opened, his eyes studying your chest with every breath you took.

“Jake?” You whispered, breaking his stare at your breasts and making him look into your eyes.

“Sorry,” he blinked a few times, shaking his head with a little grin, balancing his hands on either side of your head. He leaned down to give your lips a sweet kiss. “It’s the first time I’ve ever seen all of you . . .,” He leaned on a forearm, and reached to your chest again, holding one breast in his hand, massaging it as his thumb skated over the nipple. “Beautiful,” he praised, looking you right in the eye. Oh, Jake.

Then, his mouth attached to the opposite breast, his lips sucked gently, his tongue flicking out to lick the nipple.

You felt it everywhere, your toes curling at his touch. And with a sigh, you leaned into his mouth, needing more. Needing all he could give.

“Fuck, Jake,” you whined. “Your mouth feels so good.”

And then he switched breasts, making sure to give each the same treatment. . . Holy sweet hell. You were done for.

Your body shook, feeling your nerve endings spasm. No one else had ever stimulated you this much, this way. You didn’t know you could feel so much from a man only lapping at your chest. He was magic.

“Jake,” you keened, your chest pushing further into his mouth. Your hips thrusting up to meet his. Fuck. With both of you having your pants off, he almost entered you at the motion. And damn the temptation was too much. “Shiiiit.”

He continued to worship your chest, and when you met his hips again, he bucked into yours, deliciously rough, matching a thrust. You felt him, hard, and fitting right between your wet folds, so close to being inside you.

You saw stars, closing your eyes.

Fuck.

You heard the softest groan against your breast. You looked down at him, lavishing at your supple skin. One thick brow was raised, but then he pulled them in, in concentration, as he rocked into you again. Shit.

You couldn’t help the cry that escaped you. Or the words that followed.

“Please, Jake. Please,” you didn’t know what you were asking for. Just needed more of him. You pushed your hands into his hair, growing confidence from your position. You pushed his face further into you, and you felt him bite at your nipple. Your hips naturally came to meet his and with all of it—fuck—your moan was pornographic. “I need you,” you pushed up, grinding your hips into his. “Here,” you did it again for emphasis, your pussy aching for him.

He released the nipple he’d been sucking with a pop. There was a snicker at your chest, and you saw the dimple in his cheek when he smirked. But before he did anything else, he moved back up your body, your chests finally touching. He had a hand still holding snug to a breast. He squeezed it once, your clit thrummed at the motion and you once again pushed your front to his.

He kissed the column of your neck softly, trailing kisses from there, all the way to the corner of your mouth. You moved to meet your lips with his, your hand still tangled in his wavy hair.

You kissed lazily for a few minutes, just enjoying the taste of each other. Your pussy still occasionally grazing his impossibly hard front. You’d moan into each other’s mouths every time. . .absolutely euphoric.

When you came up for air, you let yourself get lost in the chocolate pools of his irises. He was so handsome. So pretty. You couldn’t help the hand that came to hold his cheek, the other one still combing through his hair.

He gave the corner of your mouth one more peck before he rasped, moving to give the same kiss to the swell of each of your breasts. “Your tits . . .,” he blew out a breath against your skin, making the flesh erupt in goosebumps. You sighed. “Fuck, y/n. They’re perfect. So soft and full. . .” One more kiss to each, this time with tongue. “Fuckin’ perfect.”

Then his slick tongue was moving from your chest, down your stomach, and over your right thigh. He hitched both of your legs up, to be bent at the knee. Giving him better access to what you knew he was about to do. He gave your pussy the same long look he gave your breast, admiring what was in front of him. He licked his lips at the sight.

Your heart was racing.

And without warning, his tongue found you, flattening on your sensitive clit. It was so hard, with only the slightest direct contact from his tongue, you were bucking your hips into his face. He used two strong hands to grasp and hold your hips to the bed, making sure to soothe your position by making wide, smooth circles with his thumbs in the hidden flushed dips between your thighs and groin.

He then dipped his tongue to curve into the growing wetness between your folds. You gasped as he lapped at your arousal, occasionally moaning into you as he would lick. He continued like that for long enough that you weren’t sure you could see straight. Your legs were weak from your position. It was almost as if he was enjoying this—simply getting to taste you, feel you against his mouth.

And suddenly, you felt your body begin to tremble uncontrollably, your every sense becoming heightened. The feeling of him was all-consuming. You couldn’t deny it any longer, the growing sensation in the pit of your belly threatening to give way at any moment. And he knew it. The work of his mouth became more intense, more fervorous, more hungry. His plush lips working your throbbing cunt into a frenzy until you finally gave in.

He hardly took his mouth off of you, only enough to speak his velvet soft voice against your soaked pussy, his breath hot against the wet skin. “That’s it, baby, that’s it. Let me have it.”

Then it hit you, harder than it ever had. You suddenly realized that you’d been deprived your entire life of this feeling, no man had ever done that to you. Let alone with just his mouth.

You came back to, arching into him as you felt his tongue make a perfect circle around the still-tight bud of your sensitive clit. You could hardly control your tremors as your body had felt the ultimate test of ecstasy.

Then you heard a little whimper from Jake, and you looked down through hazy eyes to see his eyebrows were drawn deeper than you’d ever seen them.

A movement caught your eyes further down. His hips were thrusting, and with each rut of them, he kept forcefully meeting the mattress. You felt his bed shake with each jerk of his hips. Your clit twitched at the sensation of the bed rocking and his mouth on you. You could only imagine what it would be like when he was inside you. You felt the vibration of a growl against your pussy.

“Jake. . .,” you moaned. He hummed against you, which you presumed was a response to you. You hitched your hips up to meet his mouth as he curled his tongue to fit in the small hole between your folds, which gained him an involuntary shake from your body and a whine from you. He then trailed his tongue all the way up from your hidden spot, to hit the sensitive underside of your clit. You groaned loudly at the way his tongue was intermittently flicking against and massaging your overly sensitive bundle of nerves.

He whimpered again, and his brows creased so closely together. You felt another jolt beneath you as the bed shook with a rather forceful thrust from his hips. You knew he was either really enjoying himself or was getting tired and really wanted his own release. From past experience with men, you assumed the latter.

“Jake,” you started scooting your body up the bed. You got flashbacks to nights cut too short when you said his name like that. You knew he did, too, as his mouth lifted from you and his dark eyes met your own.

“You said you wanted this,” he grunted in response, his forehead falling to lay on your thigh in defeat.

“I do, Ja—.”

He interrupted you when he dug his fingers into your hips harder, pulling you back down to meet his slick tongue. Your eyes rolled back in your head at the feeling of him lapping at you with the force he was exuding to seemingly keep you in your spot.

You tugged at his hair harder, trying to signal him to stop. As much as you didn’t want him to stop, it wasn’t fair for you to have all of the attention. He needed his release.

He slowly, hesitantly stopped and looked up at you, and you saw his eyes soften the slightest bit at your face. You knew you probably looked concerned, as that was how you were feeling for him.

“Are you okay?” He lifted his body from the spot he’d been laying in between your legs. He laid his body beside yours, and his swollen cock came to heavily sit on top of your leg.

You could have drooled at the sight of it flush against your skin. Fuck.

“You need release, too, Jake,” you combed your fingers through his hair. He wrinkled his brows at that. You continued, “I’ve already finished once; you don’t have to give me any more attention.”

He leaned back a bit, seeming offended. “You don’t want me to keep going?”

You pulled him by his shoulders, back to where he’d been, and reassured. “No, I want you to keep going—Goddamn, babe. . .but I also want to make sure you are able to feel satisfied and taken care of,” you sat up, and moved down the bed, so you were looking right at his thickness. You got him to position himself to be where you just were, his back against the headboard. You stared up at him through your lashes as you spit onto his aching head, then grasped his dick in your hand, all in one fluid motion.

His eyelids dropped, and his Amber-brown irises darkened. You gave him one slight squeeze and you saw the muscles in his thighs tighten and his head fall back slightly. But his gaze stayed on you.

Giving him one more pump, you rolled your thumb over the head. He groaned, but you weren’t able to give him any more attention as he flipped your body to be under his again in one swift motion.

You squinted at him from your new position, “Why can’t I—?”

“You act as if I wasn’t satisfied with what I was doing before,” he retorted, voice low and face right above yours.

“You were obviously wanting more. You were—I wanted to help because you kept. . . thrusting into the mattress,” you blinked up into his sultry glare. “I could tell—.”

“I was fucking the mattress because I loved getting to tongue fuck the hell out of your perfect pussy,” he snapped.

Your body tingled at his words. This man.

But you didn’t want your desire to please him to be ignored. You reflected the glare that was still shading his features. “Why do you always have to get your way?” You argued.

He huffed, “My way?” He went down to bite the inner curve of your right breast. You moaned, feeling your nipples harden even more at the sensation. He continued his way down your body, “If I would have had my way this wouldn’t be—," You thrusted up into his stiff dick again. You smirked when he bit his lip, eyes closing to stave off your distraction. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Fuck, y/n,” his eyes bore into you, then he worked his way down to where he was, once again, settled between your legs. He gave you one lick up your folds. You whispered his name, shaking. So sensitive. So delicious. “Have I wanted your mouth on my dick for a long ass time? Fuck yes. But I’ve also wanted this again. Give me this. I want this.”

“Jake, you don’t have to say that just becau—.”

He closed his eyes and groaned. “Can you not fucking argue with me for once?”

“Can you just fucking listen to me? I want to make sure you—.”

He forcefully entered you with one finger, his thumb reaching up to rub over your hard clit. You threw your head back, looking down at him with lust clouding your vision. You wanted to be angry with him for interrupting you, but dammit . . . you just couldn’t be.

He pumped it in and out a few times before putting the finger in his mouth, closing his eyes and moaning. “You taste so fuckin’ delicious, baby.”

His usage of the pet name made your brain short circuit for a few seconds, but you got distracted from it because suddenly, his face was back, right above yours. His forearms caged you in, on either side of your head. His hair was draping around you like a curtain. It felt so familiar. . .so wonderful.

And now, you knew it was about to happen.

You felt the head of his cock at your entrance, just as you had at Baby’s.

But this time. . .this time it was different. So different. You couldn’t pinpoint how or why—it just was.

You looked down to where your bodies were so close to finally connecting. When you looked into his eyes, you noticed he was waiting for you.

For some reason, you felt as though he’d been studying your face while you were looking away. He seemed so content to simply be watching you, waiting for you, until you found his eyes.

When your eyes met his, you saw the smile that filled his amber-brown irises. It was a sweet moment that felt like it would forever be locked in time. You stayed there, him above you. And somehow, you knew he was waiting for permission. So, you nodded your head.

And without a second thought, his eyes still honing in on yours, he entered you.

You could’ve sang, you were so relieved to feel him like this. Finally.

“So fucking tight,” he grunted, letting his tip meet your most secret spot inside. Ohhh yeah. You wanted to fuckin’ purr.

It had been awhile . . . and Jake had noticed by your tightness. But as he rolled his hips the slightest bit, helping you adjust, hitting you right where you needed him, deep inside—there was no questioning that the man knew what the hell he was doing.

Just like your thoughts earlier tonight. . .he was a natural.

You continued to wince a little, since he was so thick. It took a second to stretch to his size, and he let you, moving around enough from inside to help you. But he felt so damn good, you didn’t want to stay like that for too long. You needed more.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, needing to feel closer to him. His hair tickled the back of your hand.

Though, when you’d looked back at his face, his eyes were stuck on you, seeming to be caught in a trance, a relaxed, loose grin fitting to his pink lips.

You moved your hips just a bit. He felt you move, and he seemed to come back, his eyes locking in on your lips. He gave into the urge, kissing you, letting his tongue explore your mouth briefly, you doing the same to his mouth.

Then, when you came up for air, breathing so hard, you shared this look. Such fondness behind the gaze. It was almost too much. But like all things with Jake, it felt right.

You played with the ends of his hair, where your arms were crossed at his back. Maybe you could stay like this forever.

But then he moved out slowly, and pushed back into you, hard and to the hilt. You felt his balls hit the bottom of your ass and you almost crossed your eyes at the ecstasy of it all.

He rocked into you like that a few more times, a little slower, moving steadily.

Then he switched things up.

He held your body up, his dick still firmly inside of you as he sat up on his knees, leaning back on his heels. He balanced your ass on his thighs and pushed a pillow up behind you, sitting you up, your back against the headboard. Your legs moved of their own accord to be on either side of his hips.

The position had you completely open to him, as your legs were spread wide, his cock pulsing inside of you. He bit his lip, focusing. It was like he was admiring a piece of art, not able to take his eyes from it. Deep in thought.

And all of a sudden, you felt extremely vulnerable. Every piece of you on full display, save for your backside which sat perfectly on his bare thighs. So, still. He had every piece of you open to him, around him, or on top of him.

You almost spoke, but he beat you to it.

“You are so fucking beautiful, y/n. Dammit,” he said with awe laced beautifully in his raspy voice, hitched on his next words. “This is— you are . . .,” he shook his head, and was never able to come up with the words. Instead, he just continued to let his eyes graze over you.

You felt your entire body heat at his words, the intimacy of all this. You felt emotional hearing the words, being like this with him. It was the most open and vulnerable you’d felt with a man in a long time (maybe ever), and he was seeming to treasure it just as much as you.

His hands held your waist as you tangled a hand in his hair, and looped one arm over his shoulders - both of your chests heaving, needy.

He then brought you forward, until your clit was positioned to rub right below his belly button. You gasped at the full change in position, his cock as deep as it could go. You used the new angle as leverage and went onto the pads of your feet, raising off of him briefly, and then you slowly sank back down onto his throbbing length.

The moan he let out was heavenly. It made you feel like you were on top of the world, the way his mouth hung open. You continued to rise, and sink back down. Long and slow motions that helped you both to feel all of each other. Once you got more confident, you started swiveling your hips as you started to bounce on top of him.

After a few more swings of your hips, he used his hold on your waist and lifted you off of him.

You unabashedly let out a small cry at the loss of him inside you, but you moved with him. You positioned yourself to be on all fours, ass facing him— going with his motions and assuming that’s what he wanted.

The hiss you heard leave his mouth when you were in position, and the way he kneaded your plush ass cheeks with his calloused fingertips made you smirk with victory. You knew exactly what he wanted.

“You like that?” You breathed at him, wiggling your round ass at him, grinding back on his hardness. You felt him quiver at your movement. Then you felt a hard smack against your right asscheek. “Fuck— Jake!”

He soothed the spot, massaging it the slightest bit, and before you had time to fully process the first hit, he went in for another slap on the other cheek.

You jolted with a squeak, surprised, but fully welcoming it.

Fuck yeah. Did he like things rough? If so, you were here for it.

Tossing your hair over your shoulder, you pointedly made eye contact with his hooded gaze. He had a knowing smirk on his face, matching your own expression.

He gave you two more slaps, one for each side, and this time you felt the cold metal of his rings with the hits. Oh fuck.

You pushed back on him, wanting more. His thick cock, snug between your sore cheeks at this angle.

But instead, he flipped you to lay on your back again. Where was this strength coming from? Dear God.

How easily he maneuvered your body, wherever he wanted it to go. . . You bit your lip. Fuck. It was like you were his little instrument, moving you every which way, like he threw his guitar behind his head so effortlessly—that was you right now.

Your core convulsed at the thought.

Jake set an arm next to your head, and the other above, almost cradling it to not hit the headboard. Then he sunk his pulsing dick into your waiting, dripping cunt. At this point, you were getting fairly acquainted with his size, so you grabbed his perfectly round backside, burying him the deepest he could be in you.

You also used this position to sway your hips up, each stroke on his dick intentional. Throwing in a little trick of yours, you tightened your muscles to grip his length with each roll of your hips, making him fit even more snug, inside of you.

“Oh baby,” he groaned at the feeling, the first time you did it. And after a few more, he tapped your hip. “If you don’t stop, I’m not gonna last.”

He was trembling above you. His arm was shaking next to your head.

“Y/n, baby—fuck,” he grunted, tapping at your hip harder. He wasn’t ready to be done. Neither were you. So you tapped him right back, motioning for him to move off of you.

After he’d moved, you went to lay partially on your side and partially on your belly. You lifted your ass to indicate you were ready. And in one smooth move, his chest was against your back, his arms back where they were before, but in the new position. He slowly slid in, feeling out the new angle.

You loved it. One of your new favorites.

“I love this fuckin’ view of you, y/n,” he groaned, his breath hitting your shoulder. “And the way you feel like this—goddamn.”

He was filling you up, all the way, except this time, you had the combined feeling of him inside, while his smooth sac hit your pussy with each languid pump of his hips.

You watched how his bicep and fist flexed at the same time, with each thrust, so purposeful.

Damn him for being so sexy.

His hips started moving quicker, almost of their own accord. And before you knew it, he was pounding into you, his balls slapping hard against you.

The sounds—the way it felt— perfection.

Your toes curled. Ecstasy. He kept hitting your hidden spot inside; your clit was getting friction from his sheets; and the back of your pussy was getting attention, too. Fuck. This position was going in the books.

Without warning, you felt the arm next to you move, his hand going to sweep swift circles on your swollen bundle of nerves.

“Jaaaake,” you whined, sounding completely pathetic. Sweat was beading at your forehead. Your folds were spasming, your pussy ready to let go. “Fuck, baby.”

You couldn’t hold it anymore. All of it combined—the loud slaps of flesh, the sweat, his hand, the pressure of his pretty dick stretching your tender pussy- hitting every part of you—damn.

You came for the second time that night with a curl from your hands and toes, and a loud sob.

“Doing so good, y/n,” he pushed his chest closer to your back, feeling your release against his hand and helping you ride the wave. And all of a sudden, his hips started rutting, so erratically against your ass, his dick pulsing inside with each roll of his hips. “I’m gonna—where do you—fuck! Y/n—.”

Shit. You almost forgot. You weren’t on the pill. You’d just gone off a few months ago. Shit shit shit shit.

Momentarily snapping from your hazy afterglow, you grasped his hip. “Dammit—on my back!”

Thankfully, he pulled out in time, and with a small moan from his perfect lips, hot spurts of his cum met your back, shiny from sweat.

After, he laid above you, one shaking arm still above you, the other now holding your tummy. Okay, now you hated this position. You couldn't easily flip to see his face. And you wanted to see him.

He made quick work of reaching for his T-shirt from earlier to clean off your back.

“Wanna see your face,” he sighed, rubbing at your shoulder.

You grinned at the sentiment, wanting so desperately to see him, too. So, you rolled onto your back, letting an arm fall above your head, and the other lay across your stomach, replacing where his had been. In a daze, you watched him as he cleaned up his cock, still glistening from your climax.

Changing your line of sight, you let yourself watch his face as he cleaned himself. His lips were slightly parted, his top lip curled a bit to show some of his top row of teeth. He was focused. And damn he looked good like that.

But you already knew that.

Finally, he was done, and he threw the shirt over the side of the bed, joining the pile of clothes on the ground.

He went to lay just as you had, but with extended an arm for you to curl into.

You should have left. Gone back to your room. You’d gotten what you wanted.

And this was wrong. If it went too far, it could seriously hurt Jake. Make Josh impossibly angry with you for corrupting his brother. . .

But before you could even begin to move, focus too hard on any reasonable thought whatsoever, your head filled with Elsie’s voice, wise with the conversation you’d had that day, in the entryway.

“I’m saying. . .what if it’s possible he could just want you in his bed and nothing else?” She’d scratched her head. “Would that hurt anything or anyone? I mean, you’ve made it seem to me that you don’t really have any emotional attachment to him. So if you did that, who would it hurt?”

You glanced up at his face, his eyes drooping to follow the sleep you were also craving. His lids fluttered against his smooth skin - his sharp features. Yeah, you were good on that, still . . . no emotional attachment. But he was nice to look at.

Your voice from that day sprang to your mind, fighting.

“Elsie, that’s a stupid plan that could go horribly wrong,” she’d gasped at your insult to her idea. And you’d leveled her with a stare. “And you know it.”

“I do, I do,” she’d reassured. “But what if you just cut it off when it starts to feel like too much?”

You looked to his hands, drumming mindlessly against his hard, tanned stomach. His mouth hummed an unknown tune. You wanted to sink into him. But you knew you could cut it off. You were a pro at that.

“You think I could do that?” You hadn’t been able to believe you were actually starting to give substance to her idea in your head.

(And here you were doing it again.)

“You’re pretty damn good at burying things right down to the pits of hell, so. . .,” She’d blinked at you, almost innocently with her savage plan leaving her lips. “What’s the harm in giving it a shot? I mean, just one time, at least?”

So, you used your sister’s words from the past as your pass to let yourself be exactly where you wanted to be right now: in his warm, safe, strong arms. It had been now one time. You'd given it a shot. . .

But what if . . .?

And just as you settled into him, your cheek resting on his toned pec, his heart beating steadily underneath, you heard the last of Elsie’s words from that conversation, inspiring you even more to do this.

To force some substance on this otherwise ridiculous, horrible idea.

She’d glanced to the side, letting her eyes wander mysteriously for a second. “I think it would be good for you to live on the edge. Just once.”

And that was all you needed in that sweet, quiet moment, letting yourself cozy up, right into Jake’s chest. . .feeling him kiss the crown of your head.

Tomorrow could worry about itself.

Because right now? Right now, you were the most blissed out - the most comfortable you’d ever been.

You weren’t fucking ready to lose this yet, dammit.

And as you drifted off, seconds later, his soft snores lulling you peacefully, you could only hope that he wasn’t ready to lose this—whatever the hell this was—yet, either.

-🌼🌼🌼-

a/n: i'm so ready to share what's coming... i wish i could tell you guys (gn)!! it's killingggg me. anywayssss... please let me know your thoughts! you know i love hearing from you all :) <3

(I will say, I've been giving sporadic hints from the first chapter of what's to come. . . hmmm. who thinks they can guess what's going to turn Reader's life upside down?)

if you’d like to be added to the taglist, please let me know!

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

Taglist: @joshym, @gretavanfleetposts, @alyson814, @fretaganvleet, @lallisonl, @writingcold, @gvfpal, @twinszka, @jessicafg03, @reesetrippingthelight, @sacredjake, @laurenlovesgretavanfleet, @gretavangroove, @222headedcalf, @dreamssingold, @carbondancingthroughtime, @raviolilegs, @way-to-go-lad, @jakekiszkasmommy, @katgvf, @objectsinspvce, @jaketlover, @vanfleeter, @thetroublegetssloud71, @seditabets, @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface, @jaketlove, @ohgodthefeeling-gvf, @starcatcher-jake, @anythingforjtk, @lucimoo, @indigostreakmorgan, @gretavanbear, @katelynn-gvf, @alwaysonthemend, @aintthatapity, @bowievanfleet, @fwzco, @takenbythemadness, @cherry-icecreamsmile, @laneygvf

#jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka smut #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fanfic #jake fic #jake kiszka #covet #my fics

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cher-rei · 1 month

Text

afterglow- pt.8 [ T.A.A ]

pairing: trent alexander arnold x fem!reader

summary: young and aspiring marketing and business major jamie carter is privileged with working alongside the liverpool marketing and public relations team while also getting entangled with their star player and right back trent alexander arnold.

genre(s): friends to lovers, workplace romance, fluff

[wc: 5.6k] [part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6] [part 7]

notes: longest chapter to date to get the ball rolling. literally. Alex is so cute thoughhhh. and sofía and gavi 👀 a little foreshadowing before the next fanfic

you got to the stadium earlier than most but even then the bustling sound of the supporters chanting outside from the stands could be heard all the way down the tunnel where you and jobe had just walked in.

the atmosphere at camp nou had always been something most only dreamt of experiencing, and here you were to witness it at its best with a generational rivalry. a rivalry that you couldn't quite pick a side to.

but here you were as a real madrid supporter, in a jersey with jude's name at the back. he made you wear it, of course, there was no questioning that. his reasoning was that by wearing the jersey you'd give him the energy and your good luck would reach him telepathically or something.

in all honesty, he was just waffling so you gave in.

"oh, I'm getting emotional already," jude joked when he walked out of the locker room in his kit, a cocky smile spread on his face.

you and jobe both shared a look of distaste but jude didn't quite get the message and continued to talk about how he had a gut feeling about today's match. it was entertaining at best to see him get riled up and butter himself up before getting out on the pitch and it made you wonder.

jobe shook his head and pat you on the shoulder with a closed-lipped smile. "I'm going to find our seats."

jude scoffed at his brothers departure. "what? no good luck?"

jobe waved him off without turning around and you were mentally cursing yourself for not going with him. the match didn't start for another 15 minutes so you were stuck with him until he calmed down. he was nervous, that's the reason he couldn't stop talking.

so you watched him with your arms crossed as he spoke, switching from topic to topic until he finally stopped. "are you good now?" you smiled softly at him which earned a mock laugh but you reassured him that he was going to play great, as usual.

you nudged him on the arm. "I'll be in the stands cheering you on don't worry. you've got this, just don't think too hard."

his shoulders relaxed and just as he was about to thank you, but the moment was ruined.

"which shouldn't be difficult seeing as you don't think at all," you added after, your nose scrunched causing his smile to drop, his arm raised ready to put you into a headlock but even more screaming was heard from down the tunnel.

you both paused to listen to the conversation in spanish, rapid fire as it echoed through the tunnel while you waited to see who the voices belonged to.

emerging from around the corner were two people, a barca player and a girl that looked rather familiar. she had the most gorgeous blonde hair you'd ever seen, her face was dotted with light freckles and her presence simply oozed beauty.

her and the player that you recognised to be gavi, the team's youngest midfielder at the moment were arguing about heaven knows what. you looked up at jude dumbfounded, trying to get some context out of the conversation seeing as he was unfazed.

jude simply laughed. "this is normal for them. they're not actually arguing."

your eyebrows raised as you watched the girl point to gavi's shoelaces in annoyance, but gavi on the other hand was looking at her a little differently. his amused smile didn't go unnoticed, and he abruptly cut her off to point to the zip up hoodie she was wearing.

"they're always like this. childish banter." jude looked at you with a cheeky smile. "can you feel the tension between them?"

you nodded slightly, now watching as the girl took off her hoodie to reveal the barcelona jersey underneath and gavi was extremely happy about this for some reason. he didn't waste a second and took out his phone, telling her to turn around so he could take a picture.

then it hit you.

your hand flew to your mouth. "oh shit, that's sofía messi."

jude hummed out, sending gavi a silent greeting when he looked over to you guys. "in the flesh. she's super nice, don't be alarmed by the way she's acting with gavi. that's just how they work."

oh, now that's something you were interested in. that little thing they had going on was definitely leading somewhere, whether it be sooner or later.

when you finally left to get to your seat you gave jude one last good luck hug, one that you felt he needed more than he let on. "you better score."

he watched as you left the tunnel and seemed almost offended by the fact that you thought he wouldn't. "just for you."

sweet talker.

"you better!"

the boy did not disappoint.

real madrid won 2-1, wherein both goals were scored by jude. for the entire match you and jobe were at the edge of your seats, either in distress or in utter joy. the atmosphere in the stadium was indescribable— it was truly an experience.

and after the last goal he made sure to dedicate his celebration to both you and jobe, blowing a kiss to the stands where you were sitting. now most people would be flattered by the gesture without a doubt, but you and jobe were more disgusted by the cheesiness of the act and fought back the urge to throw up.

overall it was an amazing match and you thoroughly enjoyed yourself, and you couldn't wait to tell everyone about it when you got back home. especially since trent was rather jealous that you got to go, while he had to stay behind and... do his job.

his complaint made you laugh and you promised that you'd tell him all about it when you got back to fill the void of missing out, saying that he could live vicariously through you instead. all weekend that you'd been gone trent had checked up on you, filling you on on little bits that happened throughout the day and whatnot.

you couldn't deny that it made you miss it back in liverpool, not really the place but rather your job. the comfort finally started to settle in on that side of the world and you were getting your things back in order, just how you liked it. needless to say, you couldn't wait to go back home.

a heavy sigh left your mouth as your eyes trailed over the pitch where you and jobe were now standing, waiting for jude as he spoke to the other players. "I can't believe I can't speak spanish. instead of teaching me how to find a petty theft criminal, dora should've helped me find a spanish boyfriend."

from beside you jobe judged you with his entire body, not just his face. did that really just come out of your mouth? "why would you say that? you need medical help at this point, you desperation is showing."

you put your hand to your chest in mock offence, dumbfounded that jobe was that straightforward when calling you out, but it was the truth, unfortunately. "guilty." you put your hands in the air defensively but proceeded to point out that he would only understand what you were going through when he was an adult.

you pat his arm sympathetically. "enjoy it while it lasts."

"enjoy what?--"

he was cut off abruptly by jude sliding in out of nowhere, only this time with someone at his side. you looked up at him as if to say "what the fuck jude??" but you plastered on your best smile to mask your slight anger.

he knew the earful he was going to get on the way back to the hotel but it was for the moment right? and besides, he was doing you a favour. "sofía, this is jamie, my best friend."

"your only friend," you said through a forced smile and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

sofía laughed at your comment, and you were once again left in awe at just how pretty she was. it was actually unreal to the point where you didn't even know if you were actually talking to her or if you were just there frozen at a loss for words.

the was a soft smile on her face and she put out her hand for a handshake. "I'm sorry for coming up like this, I just wanted to say that I'm a fan."

you pulled a face. "you are??" jude slapped you on the arm, an indication for you to calm down and so you did. "I'm an even bigger fan then. seriously you are gorgeous to say the least."

sofía waved her hand shyly in disagreement, a soft chuckle leaving her lips. "you're just as pretty trust me. seriously," she took the liberty of taking a step closer to you because jude was gone and you did the same. "pedri wouldn't shut up about you."

fuck you dora.

a blush rose to your cheeks but you played it off well enough. the two of you continued to speak for a bit, just dabbling in casual conversation about your trip and hers. she was only visiting barcelona at the moment and was heading back to miami next week.

she just finished school too, but wasn't too keen on studying further. it wasn't like she needed to anyway, she had the money to live her best life anywhere she wanted, but you could see in her expression that it didn't make her feel as good as most would.

"you should tell me when you're free next time, maybe we could could arrange a little outing," sofía promoted happily and it took every nerve in your body to stop you from screaming or doing literally anything.

before either of you could say anything further a ball came launching from not too far off and hit her leg. all sofía did was shut her eyes, and you knew that look all too well. when she gained her composure again another ball lightly hit her leg to which she turned to the side.

you followed her gaze to see gavi standing innocently, the ball under his foot but and not anywhere in the air. the girl let out a scoff from beside you but didn't bother giving the midfielder the time of day.

"sorry about him," she apologised. "he's just... I don't know."

you laughed sheepishly, and thought back to their little argument earlier. "yeah you guys were really going at it in the tunnel."

her face flushed with embarrassment and you couldn't help but laugh, telling her that you didn't understand anything that they were saying anyway.

she rolled the football beneath her feet, casually flicking it up and dropping it again. of course she played, it was practically in her blood even if she wasn't actually a messi.

"he's stupid that's all." sofía looked up at you with a look of distaste as she spoke about gavi. "doesn't tie his shoelaces, makes stupid bets--"

your eyebrows raised in eagerness at the last past, an idea of what the bet entailed but she promised to tell you another day. "so are you guys..." you trailed off and crossed your index and middle finger together causing her to immediately recoil at the question.

"oh god no." she shook her head at the thought. "I'd lose my mind if I were to be around him anymore than I already am."

an unconvinced hum left your lips at her answer before another ball came hurling and hit her leg. only this time, sofía actually reacted. "pablo, I swear si pateas esa pelota una vez más te voy a dar una concusión."

you had absolutely no idea what she said but the anger in her tone was evident and that definitely meant that it related to murder. not too far off from where you were standing gavi rolled his eyes, but the smile on his face didn't go unnoticed by you.

she let out another angry sigh, mumbling in spanish under her breath and you made the mental comparison of a spanish eminem. seriously, it sounded like she was rapping the way she spoke. "I think it's time for me to go unfortunately, the child is getting restless."

as opposed to your former greeting at the beginning, this time she went in for a hug, mentioning that you guys should seriously talk more, and her dms were open. she was such a genuine soul that you couldn't not say yes, or anything for that matter because gavi came in from behind and dragged her away by the hood of her zip up hoodie.

he made sure to send you a polite wave though so you didn't mind, you were sure enough that sofía was giving him an earful already.

from liverpool to barcelona, then to madrid and london and finally back to liverpool.

that's what your vacation week consisted of. you only stayed in london for a day, you didn't feel the need to be around your mother any longer than that. she just wanted to see you and that's what you gave her.

shaun was there obviously— her boyfriend that your father didn't like at all, and rightfully so. it was two minutes into dinner when she asked if you were moving back to london with maya, and you were more than delighted to tell her no.

"I have a flat back in liverpool already. I'm moving in before christmas."

every question she asked, your answer was dull and straight to the point, because if you were to give away in more information than necessary she was most definitely going to try and fight you for it just so you could move back in with her.

"I saw you went to visit jude, how was the trip?"

"it was great, I missed work though so I'm excited to go back home."

home. you called liverpool home and it visibly annoyed her, setting something off in her mind and shaun knew that if anything were to come out of her mouth it would end up in an argument so he cut in and spoke to you for the first time since you arrived.

he cleared his throat. "so how is work jamie? are you finding it difficult?"

you shook you head but kept your eyes on your food, not bothering to make eye contact. "nope. I love it, it was worth the move and I'm having fun."

your mother hated every bit of what you said. it made her feel worthless, that you would willingly toss her to the side just to get away from a bad moment. the day that you moved she didn't speak to you once, not even a goodbye and here she was saying that she missed you.

and to make matters worse shaun just had to bring up the topic of relationships. "and do you have a boyfriend yet? seeing as you're doing so well i'm sure you're talking to someone."

"no I don't." short and simple. all your answers remained that way for the rest of the evening and till the moment you bid your goodbye for your trip back to home where your presence was actually wanted.

when you got back on the train

and away from her you felt yourself loosen up, your shoulders losing their tension and your mind at ease. being around her was suffocating, to say the least, but she was still your mother regardless of how she made you feel so that's why you gave her the time of day when needed.

when you got back to your sister's flat you were met with a few empty boxes with labels on them all sprawled out in the living room. your sister was somewhere in the kitchen with noah by what you could hear.

you took off your shoes in the doorway and left your suitcase and bags, the brilliant idea of making a surprise entrance clouding your mind. your quiet footsteps patted the wooden floor as you neared the kitchen, your sister's and her husband's voices not too far off while you waited for the perfect moment to make your silent entrance.

"babe, I was wondering if we could-- ah!!"

maya's oscar-worthy scream echoed through the entire flat. the evident shock on her face had her plastered, her heart racing because you had shown up behind her out of nowhere. you didn't think that she'd be that startled so you must of caught her off guard by a mile.

noah was the first to speak up, his face a shade of paper white. "what happened to 'hello'? or 'hi I'm back'?"

your shoulders merely shrugged in response with a lopsided smile that maya wanted nothing more than to wipe off your face. after the usual greeting and after you were done putting your bags away, you decided to join them in the kitchen for a chat.

as usual, maya asked about your mother and how she was doing but your lack of interest in talking about made her drop the topic. you were sat on the kitchen counter, watching as your sister and her husband sorted their things into boxes, jokingly arguing with each other.

maya gasped and turned to noah. "do you remember when we got this?" she was holding up a mug, which wasn't in the best shape. it was white with tiny red hearts on it.

you'd seen the mug a few times before when you were doing the dishes but no one had ever used it before. a smile drew to noah's lips and he took a closer look, his fingers pointing to something painted on at the back.

"we made this mug on our first date, at that pottery place." he showed you the mug, prompting you to look at the print that made your eyes widen in shock.

11/05/2011.

that was 12 years ago. your sister has had the same partner for 12 years and yours barely lasted 2 years. an unfamiliar feeling settled in your stomach at the thought while you watched them married couple reminisce fondly.

it was an insane amount of time to think about, 12 years was quite literally half your age. you'd known noah since the age of 11 and now were best friends with his 5-year-old son. it dawned on you that either your life was moving slower than expected, or that you just hadn't worried about your future in that sense.

michael hadn't ruined relationships for you entirely. or at least that's what you hoped, fear was never something you particularly loved to think about. was this your breaking point— the universal awakening from the gods that hinted for you to actually do something instead of worrying about the past?

this was it. the new beginning, the fresh start that you needed and were fully going to take charge of. whatever happens, happens.

you hopped off the counter with a pep in your step, an alarming amount. "I'm taking alex with me on a little field trip."

it was sunday, so it was only a matter of time until noah had to pick him up from football practice which was perfectly timed.

"for what?" maya asked you, half expecting you to rest after your trip instead of going somewhere but you had another idea.

"for the experience of a lifetime."

most wondered why alex only called you "jamie" instead of "aunt jamie". your mother thought it was disrespectful, maya and noah thought it was cute, and your dad thought it was because he saw you as a sister more than an aunt. all of those which were wrong.

you told him never to call you "aunt jamie" because it made you sound old. plain and simple. people always put so much thought into it but you never bothered to correct them, let it hang in there rather than clear it up. and just the thought of anyone calling you "aunt" made your body recoil.

you were a friend, a sister— easygoing and chill. not an aunt and alex agreed.

"you're like batman jamie," the boy said as you made your way through the stadium tunnel together, his hand in yours. "I can't believe you got us tickets. you're so rich."

today was the game against fullham, a fan favourite. but it was also trent's first match back from injury and you wanted to be there... for moral support and stuff.

you looked down at your nephew in confusion. "alex, I work here. you know this."

"sure," he dragged out in suspicion which caused you to shake your head, not having the energy to argue with him.

it was still a bit early and the boys were probably still in the dressing room so you made your way to the pitch, greeting a staff member every so often when one passed by who didn't know that you would be in today.

"this is... amazing!" alex yelped in excitement when you emerged from the tunnel, fans already chanting from the stands in excitement for the match. alex was in shock, his lips parted in amazement while his eyes roamed the stadium.

this was his experience of a lifetime. the same as yours when you were 5, when your hand was holding onto your father's for dear life as you jumped up and down, your liverpool scarf draped tightly around your neck while you chanted and screamed your heart out.

you would never be able to forget the look on your mother's face that evening when you got back. she was furious beyond recognition, her blood boiling at the carelessness of your father who had no regrets with taking you.

the adrenaline was still pumping through your veins when you got home and you were so eager to tell your mother all about it. "henry, it's nearly 10 in the evening you can't just take her to watch a football match. she has school tomorrow."

your father chuckled and ruffled your hair as you struggled to take off your jacket, opting to help you. "she had fun grace— we were playing and I couldn't miss the opportunity seeing as they were in london today, there's no harm in it."

your mother put her hand on her forehead, not caring for your father's horrible reasoning. "I said yes to the weekend football club because it was harmless, but this is taking it too far."

before your father could reason any further you spoke up, all energetic and playful from the evening's events. "mum you should have been there, everyone was so loud and then stevie g scored a goal!"

"jamie I know but--"

you hopped onto the couch, your arms raised in the air. "--stevie g scored a gooaaaaaaaal!"

"jamie, you're back?"

your head snapped to look at the player's benches up in front where the staff and today's subs were sitting. curtis was the first to stand up and then harvey who looked all too confused by the kindergardner at your side.

"you have a kid?" he asked and alex stared him down, the exact same look you were giving harvey.

"this is my nephew alex, you idiot. do I look like I'm in the position to be a mother right now?" you asked him and he shrugged his shoulders.

curtis leaned down to match alex's height and put his hand out for a fist bump. "nice to meet you alex, I'm curtis," he gestured to harvey. "and he's harvey."

your nephew eased into the greeting and returned the fist pump with a toothy grin. "how do you know jamie? it's because she's batman right?"

both harvey and curtis looked at you with pursed lips, obviously trying to hold back their laughter. not too long after, jurgen emerged from the tunnel, just as surprised to see you at the stadium. he greeted you with a hug then turned his attention to alex who was even more skeptical.

"and you must be alex, jamie has told me a lot about you."

you hummed at the observation and alex nodded happily. he knew who these people were, he watched every match with you at home from the second he came back from hospital. but the way he was holding his composure was astounding to you.

if there was something noticeable about him then it was his attitude and his confidence. he loved talking to people and was strangely extroverted for someone his age, but people loved it and found him charming.

"I know who you are too. jamie is always shouting at you through the tv screen."

curtis doubled over in laughter at his comment which caused a blush of embarrassment to flush your cheeks but jurgen just laughed, telling him that you shout in real life too, not just through the tv screen.

before you knew it, the match started and you were seated next to ibou with alex in between. the two hit it off so easily, talking and joking around nonstop through the chanting and your screaming.

the game started rocky, but it was nothing that a free kick couldn't fix and you thanked the gods that trent was back to take it. 20' in and you had your first goal before the back and forth began. by half time the score was 2-2, the second goal being scored by macca.

it was his first goal for the team, one of the cleanest too. you leapt out of your seat at the adrenaline rush and utter joy, everyone screaming in excitement as the boys celebrated and congratulated macca on the goal. you looked at alex beside you who was jumping up and down with ibou, a smile of adoration on your face.

when the break came around jurgen was quick to rush to the dressing room, not even sparing anyone a second glance so he could prep the team's next strategy after the first half's analysis.

the stadium was bustling with noise and anticipation regarding the draw which you spent the entire break discussing and making bets on with curtis, ibou and harvey.

"we need to make subs. that midfield is a little shaky and joel isn't looking too good," you said in contemplation, mentally going over what you saw in the first half.

"Ibou let's go!" alex turned to him with a look of determination. "you can play in joel's place."

the defender stifled a hearty chuckle and nodded in agreement, knowing that the substitution was going to be made soon. everyone was back on the pitch shortly after, the tension high and your heart racing. but that was because you made brief eye contact with trent seconds prior and only managed to smile back at him.

there wasn't any progress made for a good 10 minutes, but when 50' rolled around jurgen looked to the bench and told cody and joe to warm up in the meantime, the same with ibou just in case.

60 minutes in and the regular subs were made with dom and macca off for joe and cody. the two walked off the pitch and handed over, dom looking a little disappointed because he wasn't playing as well as he hoped.

he greeted you with a hug and took a seat, a huff of anger leaving his lips. that prompted for alex to lean over you so he could give him a little pep talk, one that left dom smiling from ear to ear.

"when I lose a match or get hurt jamie always tells me that it's normal because everyone has bad days," he looked up at you and then back at dom. "then she buys me ice cream and tells me to take a nap. so just take a nap and you'll feel better."

he nodded gratefully and ruffled the boy's hair, "your aunt gives great advice then."

he shrugged nonchalantly. "she's okay, I guess."

you shook his answer off and continued to pay attention, not even realising that joel was being taken off the pitch. you looked to your right and ibou was gone in his place, just as alex had suggested.

miraculously fullham managed to break the tie, now leading by 3 which had the stadium grim and tense. the goal prompted reinforcement which happened to be endo, who seemed more than ready judging by his stance and the fact that only 2 minutes in he scored the 3rd goal.

"let's go!" you yelled out, which earned a judgmental look from your nephew who told you that you had anger issues. "you scream too much" was what he said and you stuck your tongue out teasingly.

one more. one more. come on we need one more.

"gooooaall!! and alexander-arnold makes it 4-3!!"

your heart dropped to your stomach yet it was still ruthlessly pounding, the anfield stadium erupted in screams of victory and relief. this was it. the moment that you saw the look on alex's face that you knew all too well— the realisation and unlocking for a passion. your mission was accomplished.

when the final whistle blew you and the rest of the lads ran to the pitch with alex's first stop being ibou who picked him up happily while going around to the fullham players to shake their hands.

"fancy seeing you here."

the sound of trent's voice brought you out of your daze. you rolled your eyes with a ghost of a smile, recognising the quip to be a reiteration of your first proper conversation.

you mocked a laugh and turned to look at him, and to your surprise, he pulled you in for a hug. your inner monologue was going crazy, sirens going off in your head like there was no tomorrow but you remained calm and collected. to an extent.

"first day back and you scored 2 of our goals. not bad," you retorted and he stifled a laugh before a moment of silence enveloped for what felt like years before he spoke up again.

"I see you've brought a friend today." he looked over to where alex was playing with ibou, virgil and mo. you hummed in agreement, laughing when ibou threw the ball at your nephew's head.

"today was his realisation."

trent's lips parted in shock. "no way. are you serious?"

"you should have seen the look on his face trent." the recollection of the moment was priceless, especially when it dawned on you when it happened. "it was your goal too."

that surely boosted his ego and you could see it by the smug grin on his face. you both walked towards where alex was playing, happily kicking the ball around with the supporters still watching.

his laughter could be heard as virgil tried to play tackle him, and his best option was to kick the ball your way— yelling at you to score the goal.

your immediate reaction was to look beside you, trent's eyes lighting up at the idea but you ran and dribbled the ball away from him before he could take it from you. you eased it away, telling him to stay back but he neared you regardless.

"get this in and i'll agree to our match," he said with a smile and took the liberty of chasing after you which you weren't happy about at all, and neither was alex who was cheering you on.

"jamie! jamie!" he chanted which somehow got the rest of the stadium to join in, with trent still on your tail and his eyes on the ball that you were keeping away from him, then harvey joined in for the fun of it of course.

you were practically sandwiched between the two, your laughter sounding through the evening air along with the chants of your name and alex's loud final "jamie kick the ball!"

you were on the right side of the pitch, having no way to get the ball in without help seeing as kelleher took his position back as the goalkeeper and was standing at the ready. "darwin!"

your yell for help had him more than ready and he ran up so you could pass the ball to him, only for lucho to have at him afterwards so he passed the ball dom who was a laughing mess, unable to believe what was happening. you managed to run up far enough along the line, just in time to get the ball that dom kicked only this time with an actual winger holding you back.

"I play center forward this isn't who I am!" you cried out and mo laughed as he marked you, but somehow managed to get the ball around him with nobody else's upfront, which left you with one choice.

the ball hurled with so much force and a slight curve, leaving it to set in the top right corner of the net with no way for kelleher to save it. the stadium boomed once again, which left you doubling over in laughter.

"jamie! jamie! jamie!"

darwin, curtis and dom bolted to huddle over you in victory, leaving jurgen on the sidelines impressed and with a smile.

you looked over at trent who had his lips pursed. "see you on the pitch trentski."

they walked over to you with a lot to say but curtis interjected, his hand out to stop them. "post match interview happens later, as her manager I'm telling you step away."

talk about the experience of a lifetime.

posts: youtube vlog

#footballer imagine #fanfic #trent alexander arnold fluff #footballer x reader #liverpool fc #trent alexander arnold x reader #liverpool x reader #trent alexander arnold fanfic #afterglow trent alexander arnold #footballer x you #football imagine #cherrei rambles #cherrei writes #writers on tumblr #liverpool football club #fic rec

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talktolwt · 10 months

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I would like to focus on the music chosen for Hob Gadling's 80s sequence.

I'm extremely late to the world of The Sandman (finally binged it two weeks ago after my mother had been begging me to watch it with her and now I'm more obsessed than her) Bottom line: I'm unbelievably glad I finally watched this beautiful piece of television.

I have yet to read the comics but as for the first season, I have to say, without a doubt, my favorite episode is Chapter 6: The Sound of Her Wings. Death's 20-min segment is a beauty unto itself, but I'll be focusing on Hob's segment today. Specifically, his 80s scenes.

Considering I'm so late to this fandom and exploring all of its wondrous details and themes, excuse me if this has already been noted. I've been thinking about these details over and over but I need to get it out there in the Sandman world and hear everyone else's thoughts.

*Also excuse the terrible photos - Netflix doesn't let you screenshot and I was too lazy to get another app to let me bypass it. Please bear with my photos of my laptop screen.*

There are three songs that play throughout this sequence.

#1 - "She Drives Me Crazy" by Fine Young Cannibals

I accidentally deleted half my post mid-writing this but here I go again.

As we can see, after the breakup scene, we open up on Hob Gadling (he looks amazing in his 80s look, by the way) and this song plays.

Here are the lyrics:

I mean - where do I even start LMAO.

*Let me just give another note - regardless if you ship Dreamling romantically or not, I will be merely analyzing these lyrics as they are and how they convey Hob's feelings for Dream in general. But, I mean, the songs are THERE, the text is THERE. So do with that what you will.*

This will go for the following two songs as well, but these songs are placed with meaningful intention. Each of these offer a unique lens and dive into Hob's feelings.

I won't be annoying and over-explain anything, but the lyrics are clear I feel:

"She drives me crazy" - cough

"Things you do don't seem real" - in Hob's view, Dream literally is an enigma. Hob has no idea the capacities, the limits, and even the name of this being he meets every century.

"This waiting 'round's killing me" - well.

"Everything you say is lies" - now I wouldn't say particularly lies, but Dream does keep and omit things from Hob. Understandably, Hob would find himself in a confused limbo with Dream.

Here's the kicker:

"I won't make it on my own/No one likes to be alone." - HELLO. I mean, if this isn't the core message and pinnacle of Dream and Hob's lesson to immortality.

As Death mentions earlier in the episode, around 18:10, "Most of us will be glad for the company of a friend."

I feel I could go on forever and ever about the beauty of this episode and how well The Sound of Her Wings and Men of Good Fortune intertwine. They beautifully complement each other as stories lamenting the dichotomy of life and death, and the joys of humanity.

But essentially, Death reteaches Dream how beautiful humans can truly be, and in this pivotal moment, she says this zinger of a line. The camera was initially on Death but for THIS line, it cuts to Dream.

BECAUSE - poor Dream is definitely in need a friend.

Which is then shown to the audience by the 30-min long Hob Gadling sequence that ensues, and we see Dream's aversion to needing someone, to needing a friend.

But I digress - back to the song, and that one line about not wanting to be alone.

That is such a poignant line, because as much as Dream felt alone and needed company, so does Hob? An immortal, constantly seeing the death of others around him, his companions and family long gone, he needs someone.

Considering this 80s sequence ruminates so heavily on post-breakup feelings, Hob is missing Dream dearly. His constant in life.

I'm rambling too much, onto the next one!

#2 - "Shattered Dreams" by Johnny Hates Jazz

Time skip to perhaps a few hours later, who knows. We see Hob still waiting for Dream, alone in the pub.

Hm.

Literally what else could I say. I'm being slapped in the face with pining and angst and longing.

Here are the lyrics:

Some noteworthy lyrics:

"So much for your promises/They died the day you let me go" - this breakup man

"Caught up in a web of lies" - another lie motif

"I thought it was you/Who would stand by my side" - the theme of Dream and Hob being constants in each other's lives

"Shattered dreams" - I could scream. The title of the song. SHATTERED. DREAMS. giggling rn.

"Woke up to reality" - I think that's a very interesting line toeing between the constant references of the Waking and the Dreaming

Basically, I've been noting these evident similarities within the songs to align themselves to Dream and Hob's situation, and it's clear that the director/writers chose these songs with intent of it paralleling Dreamling.

So that makes it even more insane when lines like "From this empty heart" are meant to parallel Hob. Like.

Okay, last song.

#3 - "Keep On Moving" by Soul II Soul

This song plays as the night progresses. It's late, it's clear Dream isn't showing up, and Hob is feeling pretty final about that, and perhaps he's accepted it at this point. Dream isn't coming.

So this is where he speaks to the bartender and that scene ensues.

Here are the lyrics:

The themes of time and clocks are super prevalent within this song, and again it's once more clear how heavily this reflects and represents Hob.

Noteworthy lyrics:

"Why do people choose to live their lives this way?" - I think this also uniquely touches on the general aspect of humanity and one's reason to live/love life. Dream battles with his confusion/slight disappointment for humanity at the beginning, as he asks Death, "Why would any sensible creature crave an eternity of this?" And then Hob helps Dream realize why there's so much to live for. (24:30)

"I know the time will come today/The time will come one day"

"Walking alone in my own way" - Again this idea of walking alone and needing company.

"You'll be in my life, my life always" - Dream and Hob being constants again.

This all goes to say - Hob cares. He cares for Dream.

And I just think that's very beautiful. The magnitude with which Dream's absence means to him and how much their friendship/companionship both means to each of them. I just think their connection is a beautiful thing that I love seeing and rewatching. Wonderfully, these songs give the audience even more layered insight into this connection.

This was super long, and I apologize if I went on some tangents. But I also just couldn't help it, The Sandman is so incredibly rich in its storytelling and its connections and dynamics that I had to write this all down. I also just very much appreciate the amount of care and detail that goes into every aspect of television, and needle drops such as these three songs are no exception.

Thank you for sticking with me through this! Can't wait for season 2!

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perexcri · 9 months

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fic recs!!

i woke up to being on a couple of fic rec lists and really appreciated it, so i wanted to capitalize on the nice energy and make a list of some of my own favs that i've read recently that i didn't necessarily see on the other lists :D check these out because they have some of the best prose/plots/characterization that i've read in the fandom :] 💜

one soft infested summer (M, 18k+, 3/7 ongoing) by @wheelersboy - this one is perfect for all the highler fans out there! it's got stoner byler of course, a music festival, lots out camping, and some really amazing writing! i started it just for the fun stoner vibes because Why Not, but i'm staying for the beautiful writing and the really complex and delicate relationship mike and will have in this one

Light Sleepers (T, 15k+, 2/6 ongoing) by @helioleti - WillEl-centric fic set during the time gap between the end of s3 and the beginning of s4 that explores their dynamic and their respective problems with mike, all while trying to cope with moving across the country from everything they know. each chapter is meant to reflect a certain stage of grief, which fits so well with all the complicated emotions everyone is going through!

drank my poison all alone (T, 4k, one-shot) by silverluminoqity - mike gets vecna'd and has to face his past self who's ashamed of who he's grown up to be, and my dudes the writing goes SO HARD. by far one of the best mike gets vecna'd fics i've read with such a good take on his character

star eater (T, >1k, one-shot) by @lowlightt - another fic where the writing does not play. honestly if you have a few minutes, READ THIS FIC. it's mostly just a confrontation between will and vecna, but it's so so powerful and impactful. and again, i cannot state it enough: the writing is AMAZING

tell me again (you said yes) (M, 32k, 3/3 complete) by @willow-lark - hey remember when cleradin was like a Thing for a brief second a few months ago? well if you miss those vibes, or if you just like great writing and some of the best weaving of canon into a fantasy au i've ever read, please look no further than this fic (and it's first part, fireball him! (cast protection)). i love this one dearly and enjoyed the wonderful ways Lark wove canon (specifically s1) into such a different setting, plus it was nice to see many of the other characters play a role in the events. beautiful, astounding, heart-wrenching - and did i mention there's an elopement 👀

In Undertow (M, 17k+, 3/6 on-going) by @souverian-are-we - this and one soft infested summer have become my summer byler reads~ when i say i love this fic, i mean you will have to pry it from my cold, dead hands 🥰 we've got estranged byler, jancy engagement with some stoncy going on in the background, and most of the characters still reeling from the consequences of their final battle with the upside down. it's all set at a lake house, which provides some breathtaking/atmospheric writing that this author uses to their advantage. it has some of my favorite scenes i've ever read in fic too, ones that have literally taken my breath away

california show your teeth (T, 77k+, 10/19 on-going) by @fireflywitch - what if the Byers and Hopper families were from Lenora and moved to Hawkins? this fic takes this one simple premise and turns it into one of my favorite fics i've ever had the pleasure of following along with. it essentially functions as a retelling of s1 and s2, gives almost every main character that's been featured in the show thus far a lot of time and space for their own plots, all while culminating into one larger story underneath. i don't think i've read a fic quite like this one in terms of its scope, plotting, and characterization, because there are a lot of moving parts, but this author goes above and beyond. i cannot recommend it enough

all i know is pouring rain (and everything has changed) (T, 3k, one-shot) by @willelfanpage - i think i read this one at the beginning of my workday while i was running some report on my computer and had to go about the rest of my day as if everything was fine ahah :'D seriously though, it's 3k words that pack an emotional punch all while examining will's relationship to rain. the writing is just gorgeous, and it's a character study that i haven't really seen done before, which was quite enjoyable~

Chasing Heartlines by (T, 7k+, 1/2 on-going) @cherryisgone - if you liked Tip-Toeing on Lilypads then may i direct you to its sequel, which features so much pining mike that he might as well be a tree? again, if you like cleradin/fantasy aus, then Cherry my beloved has you covered 💜 it fits so neatly with Lilypads and provides some fun contrast between will and mike~

Touch Me Like You Know Me (M, 15k, 4/4 complete) by @starsarefire824 - this exists in the rare pantheon of fics that actually made me cry. imagine an estranged byler reunion with all the emotions turned up to an eleven, and lots of lingering on lost time and how life sometimes takes us places we never thought we'd go. it's absolutely beautiful and is a classic to me :]

come back to me and forgive everything (T, 78k, 18/18 complete) by @howtobecomeadragon - i saw a lot about this one when it was on-going but am only just now getting around to reading it, and all i can say is why did it take me so long to get to it :') this author does such a good job of writing will and mike's relationship with a lot of nuance and complexity while still managing to make them feel like the teenagers they are. basically, will has to spend every july at lonnie's house in indianapolis, and for this summer in particular, the event is a lot more emotionally impactful for both mike and will. there's lots of emotional depth, the complexities of coming out and/or realizing you're queer, and, at the heart of it, how two friends try to mend things between each other. it's so soft and sweet

that's all i've got for now!! i'm quickly running out of time on my lunch break :'D also haven't been writing as much, but it's been fun to read more and relax a bit. hope you guys enjoy these because they're genuinely some of the best stuff i've had the pleasure to read in a while 💜💜💜

#fic recs #actually that last paragraph is a threat everyone had better read these now or i'll. blow up tumblr #byler #(< intended audience)#stranger things fic

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factual-fantasy · 3 months

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23 ASK! THANK YOU VER MUCH!! :DD🦆

No problem! And when it comes to showing your support? The absolute best way that will make me the most happy is comments.

It doesn't have to be a reblog or an ask like this one. Although it can be. It doesn't have to be a thought out comment complimenting a specific thing in the art piece.

Comments like "I love this!" or "💖💖💖!!" or things like "AKSKAJNCSDJNKVJN" or even "EATING THIS ART RN" are wonderful. You could leave the same generic comment on all of my artwork and flood my notifications, and I would still love and appreciate that more than getting fanart and ending up uncomfortable.

It doesn't have to be thought out, it doesn't have to be on every piece. But if you want more art from me? Remember that the #1 thing I look forward to when I post art, is reading the comments.

Now make no mistake! Foxy IS basically the big brother out of the 6. When it comes to his personality and his relations with the other animatronics.. he was always seen as the cool older brother that always knew what to do and how to cheer you up.

Foxy just gets picked on for being the "little brother" becuase he is shorter and significantly lighter than everyone else. So even little Chica was strong enough to pick him up and swing him around XDD

Also I have no idea how old the animatronics would be.. 💔 I just imagine that Foxy would be one of, if not the oldest!

(Post in question)

Well of course! Cici is indeed also the little creature of all time! The mic was just simply not offered to her- <XDD

@tallchest13-blog

AWWW!! I LOVE THEM SO MUCH 😭😭😭💖🥺💖😭😭

@neo-metalscottic

oooo!! :00 Noted! Thank you very much for the info!! :DD

:DDDD PAPYRUS BEST FRIEND!!

I have not seen the new chapter, no.. :(

@taizarack

aaaa I don't know! <:0 I've never played the games so I'm unfamiliar with those characters. Are they well known characters..? Are they evil? Are they friendly? I assume if they're not a threat my crew would be cordial with them..? <:D aaa idk! Sorry!-- (Though speaking of squid ink cookie I have drawn that one before..👀👀)

As for Papyrus, here is the initial post about him that I made.

Then at the bottom of this ask post there's a chunk of important Papyrus lore..

There's another chunk of very important Papyrus lore in this ask post..

There's a couple nuggets of good lore in this post as well..

Then there's this post I made about Frisk finding Papyrus :00

And a few Papyrus nuggets sprinkled in here! Not to mention I discuss more of his story further down in this post! This is all the info I could find on poor Papyrus, I hope this was helpful! :}

@lildiaperboyjake

XD I'm glad you like him! And I'm sure he wouldn't mind a hug! Unlike the canon version, my Funtime Freddy is actually safe to hug!.. For now-

@astahertheelf

:DD Thank you so much!! :}}

As for all the Bibi stuff. You can find everything about him or the rest of the fam under the "#bibi" tag or the "#factual fam" tag on my blog. There's also the "#my ocs" tag and the "#my original stuff" tag :0 though I don't think the latter has much attached to it-

I've been meaning to make a master post for all the Bibi/factual fam stuff but I don't have the headspace to do all that atm-

I thiiink you can eat them?? Probably yeah. I think the lore from the games is that they are literally, actually, living cookies. And they probably taste like the thing they're based on.

Soooo the only one that would taste good is Coconut XDD

XD She is very proud of him

@sparkdrawsstuff

Its all extremely vague, but I kiiind'a have an idea..??

Seafoam and Octo obviously met as little kids. They grew up side by side and when Foam wanted to get a ship and become a pirate? Octo followed him and became his first mate.

At somepoint after they picked up Ellie and Louis. Thiiinking that they knew Ellie before they got the ship and she joined them..? Not sure about Louis..

Now when it was just the four of them. They got caught in a great storm while out at sea. Blue Beauty saw this ship clearly struggling and in danger so she helped guide the ship to calmer waters. It was her help alone that prevented the ship from sinking. She probably secretly followed them around for a while before making herself more known and officially joining the crew.

Uhhhh Pinwheel, Coconut and Tuna were all troubled youths that were taken under Seafoam's/Octo's wing. Not really sure about Spider Crab..? But I'm thinking that he's the medic of the crew. Also not so sure about Cuddle or Urchin.. Though I'm thinking that this isn't Cuddles first rodeo. She could be an experienced pirate that somehow indebted herself to Seafoam..? Maybe once she paid her debt she stuck with the crew because they were neat? Though she seems like the crafty type.. She seems like she'd rather slip away undetected instead of staying to faithfully clear her debts.. Not sure about that one--

And Red is Seafoam's great nephew. He lost his mother/crew in some kind of tragedy which resulted in Seafoam taking him in.. Poor Red :((

XD I did something similar once-

The Afton's do exist. All of them. They are a core part of the AU. :00 Just like in canon! But as for their roles or where they are now or what happened to them... alas, I cannot reveal such things.. :(

As for the Sister Location AU tho--- I'm thinking that William Afton is alive and well and he runs the Circus.. 👀👀👀

Oh man, she dreams of doing so. But Sadly, she is much too large to give him a kiss :(

Unless.. 🤔 If Seafoam somehow grew or she shrank? hmm..

(Post in question)

Yeah, its was interesting.. but not for the reasons you'd think.

Papyrus recognized Seam and Jevil. He addressed them by name. He didn't approach them, seeing as Seam was very tense..

He said that he was happy to see them again. Explained how he worried about them, and was glad to see that they were both ok.

Seam and Jevil both looked like a deer caught in the headlights. If Jevil had the strength to do so, he might have just retreated with a mirror..

Sensing all this, Frisk tells the group Papyrus' story. Some of the group is skeptical, for the same reasons Seam was all that time ago.

But Frisk grantees the group that Papyrus is genuine. She says she has never met a kinder soul before. That no matter what timeline she may choose, genocide, pacifist, neutral.. Papyrus was always full of kindness to his very core. And that she believes his story 100%.

Grillby and River Person back this up. Saying that the Papyrus from their worlds was a very kind soul too..

Jevil is too exhausted to really process this much. But the horror of the situation settles on Seam. Realizing that Papyrus was actually a victim. They had the power to free him all those years ago. And they ran..

Its not addressed right away.. but eventually its brought up again. They both feel horrible for what they did. Leaving him to suffer alone for so many years..

But of course,, Papyrus's kindness never ends. It never broke or faltered after all this time. He forgives them. With all his soul he forgives them. He says he was never angry at them, he fully understands now why they left and he does not blame them. He's just glad to see that they're ok. And he's happy that he's not alone anymore. :}

@solst1ce-sketches

AAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDD

@csdumpster

I'm not sure if he has Polar Madness.. correct me if I misunderstood, but Google seems to say that Polar Madness is mostly about being sick of the people around you. Being with the same people for months would drive anyone crazy and make them super irritable.

It also talks about developing sleep disorders due to the strange night and day cycle. It mentions anger and depression too..

I'm thinking that the main two issues, sleep and irritability towards coworkers, aren't a problem for Natquik. For 1 he doesn't have any coworkers- but also he's an Arctic fox! He grew up in the Arctic. These strange night and day cycles are nothing new to him, in fact he was designed to live with these cycles! So I think he's safe there.

Now the depression part.. due to the extreme loneliness he must have felt eventually.. that could be a problem. But hey at least my version of Natquik has Marsh and Jack to keep him company XD

..oh wait, the Everglades. I wonder if Natquick would develop some kind of.. Florida Madness trying to deal with those different night cycles and living with those two morons for weeks XDD

(Post in question)

OH YEAH!! I can totally see it! XDD

(Sorry for the late reply! I am unwell-😢)

Aww, 🥺Perhaps they do. They're all doomed 💖

(Sorry for the very late reply, things really got away from me-)

I'd like to imagine the 5 of us all sitting down and I spawn/draw in a bunch of food for everyone to try and pick their favorite.

Bibi picks chicken nuggets. Jangles picks bowtie pasta with cheese cubes and Miracle whip. Every time Cici tastes something new she claims its her favorite, so she hasn't really figured it out yet- maybe strawberries??

Gerald's favorite is celery. Mind you I did not draw any celery, and he has never tasted it before. But he has a very strong feeling that it is surly his favorite.

#my response #fnaf security breach #poppy playtime spoilers #octonauts #factual fam #deltarune #undertale #seam and jevil #papyrus #cookie run kngdom #cookie run #cookie run ocs #my ocs

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wangxianficfinder · 6 months

Text

Fic Finder

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1. Looking for a smut fic I remember reading. WWX was testing an invisibility talisman and ended up in the jingshi in time to watch LWJ masturbating, and rode him after he fell asleep. LWJ woke up and made WWX get rid of the invisibility after a bit. I think it was a roleplay between the two but I'm not fully sure

FOUND! Clinomania by malkinmalkout (E, 6k, wangxian, Voyeurism, Masturbation, Somnophilia, misuse of talismans, PWP, Riding, Oral Sex, binding, Happy Ending, canon typical non-con)

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2. Hi! So I'm looking for this one fic, I remember that it was set in post-canon & Wangxian go to help this village, I remember that the Juniors (all four) followed them without their knowledge & the village had a barrier preventing people from leaving, the village had a curse where they got to see their close-ones negative memories, the juniors learnt of what actually happened to WWX & the villain turns out to be a "god" like on Dafan, it had 4 chapter (I think) & was finished. @i-like-snakes-and-spiders

FOUND? Down comes the night by danegen (E, 67k, wangxian, Alternate Universe, Canon Era, inspired by From, Horror, Sharing a Room, POV LWJ, no jiangs, a whole village of OCs, tiny mention of past wwx/omc, Happy Ending)

FOUND? unhappy stories with happy endings by Last_for_Hell (M, 30k, WangXian, Memories, Memory Fic, Kinda, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, sexual content maybe, References to Torture, PTSD, Characters Watching Their Series, kinda, but not entirely, very light consensual non-consent)

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3. good day! 😊 I read this fic before and I know that I've bookmarked it but I can't find it in the list. So the story is after wwx fell, baoshan sanren and lan yi rescued him, nursed him back to health, and waited for him to wake up. I remember that when he woke up, they also taught him cultivation (he got a new sword). He also hid his face (i think he also wore a different name and different voice(?)). There's a yi city scene where xxc asked them who they were because he cant see, then bssr is also with them at that time. thank yoooooou! 💓💓💓

FOUND! Until The End by abCEE (M, 365k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, war changes people, resulting to OOC, no pinning, Established Relationship, Mpreg, Good Uncle LQR, a little grey LWJ, a bit of JC bashing from LWJ, BAMF JYL, 16 years of yearning, mainly CQL verse but has scenes from the novel as well, LSZ is WangXian's Child, WWX Has a New Golden Core, Canon Rewrite, Happy Ending, Fix-It of Sorts)

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4. hi, I hope you can help me find this fic I've been looking for, I'm sorry I don't really remember much, just that WWX can cook non-spicy food but he does it on purpose, it might have been because of his time in the streets? or because someone would take his food? (maybe JC???)

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5. I cannot for the life of me remember anything else about the fic but I think it was cql based with lwj as chief cultivator? wwx returned to cloud recesses and the first thing he did was beat someone up for saying horrible things about lwj. I can't remember if it was multichapter or not so it might have been in the middle of a longfic?

FOUND? 🔒make this chaos count by devotedbones (E, 15k, WangXian, Post-Canon, CQL Compliant, canon compliant until the very last scene of episode 50, Getting Together, First Time, First Kiss, Hand Jobs, Chief Cultivator LWJ, a flute used as a melee weapon, Fist Fights, Gossip, Self-Worth Issues, Love Confessions, Mutual Pining, Mentions of Canonical Abuse, Minor Misunderstandings, [podfic] make this chaos count, by devotedbones by inkpens)

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6. this may as well be an itmf for its general nature, but it's actually a ficfinder! except. i only remember a single detail LMAO, and it's that wwx and lwj consider all four juniors to be their children, blood relation be damned. I'm so sorry i have literally nothing else to go on 😅 i think there's a similar theme in 'tragedy is not the end' specifically with zizhen, but not the exact detail im looking for... thank you for the help!

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7. Hi, first of all I want to thank y'all for the hard work, and I wanted to know if a fic has been deleted or if anyone has it, I don't remember the name but it was a time travel fic where Qishan Wen win the sunshot campaign and asked for war prizes (?) Zewu-Jun goes instead of his brother, Yanli is alive, they all have them captive, Meng Yao betrayed them and ultimately sided with the Wen's who were winning the war, and I think no one remembers Wei Wuxian, something like that, it would be great if someone could help! Thanks so much 🩷🩷

FOUND? The Way It Wasn’t by KouriArashi (T, 72k, WangXian, XiYao, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fix-It, (eventually haha), Slow Build, Family Feels, Moral Ambiguity, Eventual Happy Ending)

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8. Hi!!! Its me again!! Thanknyiu so much again!!! This time im looking for a time travel fic with lan qiren as the timentraveller. Pretty sure him and wen ruohan travelled together and MAYBE involved with each other??? Im not so sure but i do know that lan qiren time travelled. Sorry its not much thats all i remember hehe @sirius-bus1ness

might be one of Nirejseki's works. They wrote several on that subject (including in a big anthology work, so finding it might take some time)

FOUND? Cursed Couple by shorimochi (M, 121k, LQR/WRH, CSSR/WCZ, Time Travel, Canon Divergence, Out of Character)

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9. Hello, I am looking for a fic but I only remember a scene from it

It was a fic wwhere wwx died and there was a scene where a-yuan was crying while laying above wwx's grave in the burial mounds. Thank you!

FOUND? To Offer a Heart by WhiteCrane (M, 111k, wangxian, major character death, Sad WWX, Hurt WWX, YLLZ WWX, soft wangxian, Cinnamon Roll WN, WWX Whump, WQ is a good sister, WN is a good brother, everybody loves wwx, yunmeng siblings, Triggers, Suicidal Thoughts, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst with a Happy Ending, Taking care of WWX, Give WWX a break, Canon Divergence, Disturbing Themes, Changing Perspectives, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Grief/Mourning, Temporary Character Death, Getting Together, Redemption, Sibling Bonding, Marriage, Marriage Proposal, Brotherly Bonding, Brotherly Love, Brother-Sister Relationships, Parent-Child Relationship, Sad and Sweet, Tragedy, BAMF WWX, BAMF JC, BAMF JYL, BAMF WQ, Slow Burn, Slow Build, Everyone Needs A Hug, WIP)

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10. Hi Mods (＾◡＾) I really hope that you can help me find some fics I've been looking for! (＾◡＾) if you can't that's ok, if you can then many thanks in advance! y'all are awesome!

A) this one is set during CR studies, and wangxian go on a date? in Caiyi and I think WWX gets emotional about something they are talking about? and I know they hug, and WWX don't want to let go.

B) this one wangxian gets married, WWX marries into the Lan, and there are a lot of rules specifically for married people/how to be in a relationship, I'm pretty sure that is a very big part of the story

10A)

FOUND! 🧡 Stunted, Starving Juvenility by TomatenMark (E, 712k, WangXian, WIP, Fix-it of sorts, Talisman master WWX, Not JFM Friendly, Study Arc, Getting together, Fluff and Angst, Engagement) The scene described sounds like something that happens pretty early on

10B)

NOT FOUND! Into the Oubliette by Ruixx (M, 124k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, graphic depictions of violence, underage, Growing Up, Fix-It of Sorts, Arranged Marriage, Time Travel, Sibling Bonding, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Canon Divergence, Light BDSM, Breathplay, WWX protection squad, Sunshot Campaign, War, Politics, Hostage JYL, Visions, LXC Redemption, general LWJ, Internal Sect Politics, Good Uncle LQR, Lan OCs, No Golden Core Transfer, Empire Building, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence)

NOT FOUND! seldom all they seem by Fahye (E, 25k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, or rather Arranged Betrothal, followed by Weapons-Grade Thirst)

FOUND? Wouldn't fall for someone I thought couldn't misbehave by failedcharismacheck (M, 15k, WIP, WangXian, Marriage Proposal, Fluff, Protective LWJ, Domestic Fluff, Kissing, POV LWJ, Hair Brushing, Implied Sexual Content, soft horny)

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11. Noncon tw. Looking for a fic where when the wens burn lotus pier, they threaten to rape yanli but Wei Wuxian offers himself instead. So the wen soldiers rape Wei Wuxian in front of the Jiang sect,l. Yanli cries

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12. Looking for a specific fix where Wei Ying is dead and the sects come together to watch through his memories and end up finding out for selfless he was. @aviidaviibiitchboii

FOUND! Misunderstood by Silver_Flame_2724 (M, 250k, WIP, WangXian, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Heavy Angst, Suicidal Thoughts, Canon-Typical Violence, Self-Worth Issues)

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13. Hi, I'm looking for a modern au where Wei Ying is a grad student in an orchestra and A-yuan is dropped off at his door by his cousin Mo Xuanyu. Wei Ying and Lan Zhan get together while caring for A-yuan and end up getting married. A-yuan has a fear of airports in this fic because of his abandonment issues. This was on AO3 but I can't seem to find it. @amindonbreak

FOUND! The Simplest Way Forward by harriet_vane (E, 70k, WangXian, Modern AU, Accidental baby acquisition, Kid fic, Green card marriage (but not really), Slow Burn, Endless Pining, Happy ending, [Podfic of] The Simplest Way Forward by knight_tracer, Translation into Русский: Самый Простой Путь Вперёд (The Simplest Way Forward) by grand_R, Spanish Translation, Turkish translation )

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14. hello! im looking for specific fic, where after burial mounds wwx thinks he's dead. instead of joining sunshot campain he storms nightless city and kills all cultivators without anyone knowing it was him (exept meng yao who survived but is wounded)

he then "haunts" yumeng for a while until he runs into wen quing and takes wens to burrial mounds

eventually ppl find out and together with meng yao they outsmart jgs to pardon all wens @chellsky

I can't find 14, but I do remember reading it; they ended up pretending Wen Qing was the one controling the dead and killing the Wen, and they faked her death

FOUND! can't find a way home by KouriArashi (M, 109k, WangXian, XiYao, XuanLi, ChengQing, Canon Divergence, Angst, Family, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Politics, Family Feels, Post-Sunshot Campaign, Developing Relationship, Canon-Typical Violence, canon-typical political bullshit, Mental Health Issues, Eventual Happy Ending, Descriptions of suicide, (caused by dark magic))

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15. Hello! I'm looking for a fic where Sizhui's bio parents are alive and come to Cloud Recesses looking for him (post-canon, iirc)

Hello! I'm #15 from the latest fic finder. I'm quite sure that the fic was on ao3. It may have been inspired from the angstymdzsthoughts posts but it was a proper fic posted on ao3

NOT FOUND! This Post by angstymdzsthoughts Mad idea, could 15 be from angstymdzsthoughts?

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16. Hi! I was reading a really interesting story about LWJ being cursed and WWX helping him and I lost it! Arg, now I'm so curious to know how it ends, I hope you can help me!

The story is about LWJ being cursed with a change in his private body parts. (The curse changes his p to a v). Then WWX notices this and decide to help LWJ and the way to revert the curse is that LWJ has to have an org@sm.

Can you help me? I'm dying to know how to continues!! 🤗🤗 @wangxiansgirl

FOUND! Coming Back to Yourself by acernor (E, 21k, wangxian, Vaginal Fingering, Cunnilingus, Oral Sex, Pining, Gender or Sex Swap, Vaginal Sex)

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17. Hi! Looking for a fic wherein wangxian married and suddenly Mo Xuanyu woke up again in his body, he fell in love with Lan Wangji but Lan Wangji just ignore or formal with him. Mo Xuanyu heartbroken tried to bring back Wei Wuxian Soul on his body

I feel like this might be in the angstymdzs collection, since I think it's was inspired by one of those asks?

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18. Kind of random, but I’m trying to find a fic I read awhile ago that featured hagfish? My memory of it is kind of vague, it was a college au and wwx was some sort of biology major i think and there were hagfish. Compelled to read it again because of hagfish reasons.

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19. Hello! I'm looking for a specific fic which I've seen in a few people's bookmarks but for some reason neglected to even mark for later. It's a modern AU where LWJ is looking for a pet sitter for his bunnies and is recommended WWX's pet sitting/walking venture (no dogs allowed ofc). Can you help? 🐇 @linderel

FOUND! A Single Note by airinshaw (E, 19k, WangXian, Modern AU, Getting Together, Mutual Pining, Kissing, Anal Sex, Fluff and Smut, Light Dom/sub)

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20. I search a fic where Jiang Cheng tries to ask Lan Xichen to marry him and Lan Xichen is super offended by it. Nie Huaisang may have done something to make JC fail even more in his proposal.

FOUND? To Take A Wife- Or Perhaps A Husband by Admiranda (T, 2k, one-sided LXC/JC, one-sided NHS/JC, JC's canonical homophobia, JC's canonical inability to get married, Decides to solve his problems with spite, not JC friendly, We all love NHS in this household, JC's canonical blind spots, Post-Canon, JC's canonical classism)

~*~

#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic finder #wangxian fic search #the untamed #wangxianficfinder #long post

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kyouka-supremacy · 11 months

Note

Thoughts on akutagawa being drawn with no highlights in his eyes, hair, coat, or on rashomon,,,like everything is drawn pure black? I like when he's drawn a little bit like not-human--contrasts real well with Atsushi's dilemma of being a tiger, personally thinking. Also like when he's drawn like a void. Little bit like the cryptid creachur he is. I think you wrote something about it in the tags on panels in his introduction in the Manga. I like to think other characters also see him the way we see him so his void ass scares the fuck out of others too. Man's skeevin and tweakin even in his design

I'm OBSESSED with Akutagawa's design. Look at him. This is what he looks like on a white background:

And this is what he looks like on a black background:

It's BRILLIANT. He literally disappears in the black. He's the ultimate monster. In his appearance, he embodies what above all is most scary for the human psyche: the darkness, the unknown. The way Harukawa took advantage of the the art rule of never using pure black by breaking it in the most clever way! No light gets reflected on him, because his form absorbs everything– is absolute darkness. Visually, his figure itself is Rashomon eating everything it encounters, and it's genius.

He is so nightmare coded. I love his big, inscrutable eyes that look like two voids, two black holes. I love how oftentimes you can't tell where Rashomon ends and where he starts, I love how sick and unhealthy he looks. I love how he looks scruffy like an abandoned dog. I love how young he looks– way younger than he is. It gives the impression of a ghost, someone who was killed before growing up and is now stuck with his young appearance no matter how many centuries pass.

I adore everything about these chapter 33 pages. The way he initially appears as just a single black shape, hardly resembling a human. His crunched, unnatural stance. The staggering. The way you can feel with your senses the thick and sticky blood. The top picture is the left page of the manga, so just imagine the visual impact of turning the page to be hit with an almost full-black page- it's meant to impress, it's meant to shake. The way he's one with the darkness: no textures on him, only white making out his outlines. The way you can't tell where his coat ends. His left arm hanging numb, limp, lifeless, inhuman. The spurts of blood on his face. His smile, how you won't notice it at first and how that makes it all the more disquieting; its juxtaposition with the violence that surrounds him and that he is the cause of. The way he covers his face, the impressions of hiding and looming. His face being split, which only adds to the horror elements. Akutagawa's character design as a whole is an ode to the gothic and grotesque.

And then this. Hello??????????????? The progression from how Akutagawa used to be to the last time we saw him alive is astonishing. It's upsetting. It really makes me wanna cry from a technical execution standpoint alone (imagine from a plot related standpoint). All the black is now replaced with predominant white, everywhere. His shirt is white and candid and pure, emphasizing contrast with the splash of blood in a way that almost results sickening. The blood on him is his this time. His face looks rounder, and healthier, and he overall looks more mature. His smile is sincere and genuine, it's light, it's affectionate. This scene is the culmination of Akutagawa's character both visually and thematically: the monster, Akutagawa, too, can be good, and arguably had good within him since the very start. Does it really matter if he lives after this? His character already developed to be the best version of himself‚ and this panel here is the proof.

Further readings: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6)

#Sorry I blacked out and now it's been three hours #Don't kill me over the last line akdbfjksndjeks I love Akutagawa I swear #No wait I think I got it: Me 🤝 Atsushi → bullying Akutagawa as love language #ryūnosuke akutagawa #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd ch 04 #bsd ch 33 #bsd ch 88 #Me: I will NOT compare chapter 88 panel Akutagawa to an angel. That is NOT something I'm willing to do.#bsd analysis #people asks me stuff #Thank you for the ask!!!#Actually someone reblogged a post from me with a very clever addition about Akutagawa's physical appearance #I haven't gotten around to reblogging it yet because I wanted to take a good read to it but it was very clever!!#I'll try to reblog it as soon as possible #I also love how half the time his coat will just look like a gown. I adore it.#I love his heels. He does have a very feminine figure‚ in a way– especially in how thin / feeble he looks.#It's real fuel for my transmasc Akutagawa agenda #Back to Anon's words– I only have a very very vague memory of writing tags about this it must have been from a very old post?

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inmyheadimobsessed · 1 year

Text

More Than I Should {pt. 2}

pairing: riri ✘ black!fem!reader

chapter summary: headaches, everyone gets them! your most recent one stems from poor decision making. but the one that reoccurs has a name: riri williams. she's in your head, and alone time with her only causes more pain, and more problems.

word count: 12.9k (juh vibe twin)

chapter contents: angst(barely tbh), cussing, arguing, more of riri being an asshole, reader says something vaguely homophobic, VERY brief mention of menstruation

tags: @verachii @rxcently @widowmakker @fetchyourlife @blackgcomica @n7cje @shurisbbymama @bestfriend491 @mocha-aya @uhwhatsay @shinsousliya @bratydoll @shuriri4life @letitias-fav @axailslink @chidinma @xoxo-dede @percsane @generallysapphic @mbakuetshurisprincess @quintessencewrites @adeola-the-explorer @dejaonline @bubshri @zayswriting @la-reine-insane @shurisjournal @shurismainbxtch @playhousedistee @cafehyunji @bigbigbigfan @andibecamethestars @saintwrld @mysticalmarss @sweetalittleselfish-honey @ogbells16 @marsolgy @randomhoex @chatitajens @cuddl3s4shur1 @abenomeiiii @6-noir @melanated-queen @yamsthoughts @lppriceisright @shuriislut @playgurlxoxo @kya-rose @shuriszn

divider by: @firefly-graphics

note: okay i'm keeping this note short and sweet. hope y'all like this literal dissertation lmao. also sorry if you asked to be tagged and i didn't, just learned i can't tag more than 50 people soo yeah, yikes! love you still though. enjoy! mwah mwah!! <33

↬ series masterlist

There was hardly any action that came without consequence. An irrefutable fact, you knew this. But knowing a fact, and acknowledging a fact, differed vastly from your ability to care about it. This was the manner in which you behaved last night, there was no care for repercussions, no worry about aftermaths; the promise of consequence fueled you as you ignored your burning throat and staggered steps.

You could not, however, ignore any of it now though. The pounding in your head made sure of that. Heavy eyelids stayed hammered shut, rejecting your pleas for them to open, and your body ached in sync with your throbbing brain.

The night was but a distant memory as you tried, and failed, to recall its events in full. Small flashes appeared behind your locked lids: Music. Dancing. Hakeem’s hands on you, his lips. He smelled good. Drinking, lots of drinking. You were alone and then you weren’t. Riri. Her hands. Her eyes.

Riri had driven you home, held you close, and made sure you were safe. You mulled that thought over, surely that couldn't be right. The rattling in your skull made it hard to discern if your mind was just conjuring things, filling in blank spaces with what you wanted the truth to be. And your phone’s neverending pinging on your cluttered nightstand only worsened your splitting headache.

You groaned, eyes finally peeling themselves open, and reached for the device. It was nine in the morning and you had work in an hour. Great. Tired eyes adjusted to the blinding brightness and fluttered down to the notifications rolling in.

Keem: I'm sorry

Keem: Baby please don't be mad

Keem: Text me back, I’m sorry

Keem: I should've come back I know

Keem: Can you answer the phone, please

Keem: Riri said you got drunk and she took you home

Keem: Are you okay?

Keem: Are you awake yet? Want me to bring you breakfast?

Keem: I know you're mad at me, can we just talk?

Keem: At least leave me on read so I can know you're okay?

That string of texts solidified it all. You were not making anything up. Vivid glimpses flooded back to you now, one apologetic message after the other. Hakeem had left you. You were at the party only because he’d asked, a party in which you knew no one, and he just left you behind. No call, no text, and with Riri of all people. With the girl who despised your presence, though some of her behavior last night could counter that claim. You granted Hakeem’s request, tapping the messages app on your phone and leaving him on read.

The notifications stopped coming after that. It made you smile a little, knowing he was anxiously waiting for you to acknowledge his messages. He was aware you were awake, he knew you'd read his texts, seen the missed calls, and he would have to sit with your decision to willfully ignore him.

You pushed your cozy pink duvet off your body, preparing to stand. Truthfully, there was no recollection of falling asleep inside your head. Everything after getting into Riri’s car was foggy. And there it was, that sensation you'd experienced only a handful of times, but each occurrence came with such intensity, you recognized it instantly. Dread. It was collecting inside you, pooling in your stomach and mixing with your growing nausea as you tried recounting your conversation with Riri. Surely there was one, you talked a lot when you were drunk.

If your past encounters with alcohol were to be used as evidence, there was no doubt that you'd made a fool of yourself.

So maybe this hangover was a blessing, certainly not the one that arrived in disguise, no. You felt every ounce of pain, every whir inside your brain, and your world shifted when your toes dug into the carpet. Nothing about this was concealed or covered, you were well aware of everything going wrong inside you, but it was a blessing all the same. Anything that provided aid in your forgetting a drunken conversation with Riri would be deemed a blessing.

Another groan, this one long, this one annoyed as you wiped your eyes and trekked to the bathroom. There was absolutely no way you'd be turning on the light, the sliver of sunlight peeking through your curtains would have to be enough. But even that was too much.

You spared a glance at yourself in the mirror and you rolled your eyes. One of Hakeem’s shirts draped loosely over your tired exterior, making you all the more irritated the longer you stared at your reflection. “Ahh fuck.”

Sleeping in makeup, another thing that has never once worked out for you. Your eyeliner was smudged off at the ends, no longer holding its sharp winged shape. There was one strip lash stuck to your cheek, and the other one stayed put, sitting pretty right along your lash line. Your hair, oh your hair. She was doing her own thing, and you thought it best to leave your frizzy curls alone. Everything about your appearance was disastrous, coordinated perfectly with your innards. A matching set, both scheming with plans to demolish you. And it was working, their scheme.

There was no desire to fight back, not even a pinch. Brushing your teeth was painful. Washing your face, exhausting. Warm water cascading down your body though, that would remedy you, all of you.

It was immediate, your mind's trailing to her, to Riri. You’d hardly stood under the drizzling showerhead for long before your thoughts decided to betray you. But the two of you resided on different pages as of late, which was a thing you weren’t used to, considering your brain was usually your best friend. The muddling of that relationship was all your doing though, with your recklessness, and your impulsiveness. One could also blame Riri for your being at odds with your head. She always clawed her way in, in spite of all your efforts to keep her out.

You tried not to think about her as you lathered your wash rag, closing your eyes in attempts to push her away, but her face stood fierce in your mind's eye. Riri’s face. Despite the permanent scowl she wore when around you, Riri was very beautiful. It was an objective observation, calling her anything but would be a lie.

As you washed your body, as you let the soapy streams from your rag trickle down you, you couldn't help your drifting thoughts, couldn't fight them. What did Riri’s face, her beautiful face, look like last night as she drove you home? She was probably annoyed, that was a given. What did you say to her on the drive? There were remnants of accusing questions on your tongue, the taste they abandoned in your mouth rancid as it blended with the minty freshness of toothpaste.

Being curious about what you’d said to her was reasonable, it was rational. Your mission was to make her like you, get Riri to be something resembling a friend to you, and if you’d said anything to offend her last night, wanting to know was a warranted response. Right? No matter the level of embarrassment. Especially given that she was gracious enough to take you home. She didn't have to, she didn't want to, but she did. You ran the warm cloth along your neck, your shoulders, across the small of your back.

She’d touched you there. That you remembered. It was dizzying: the press of her digits, the way they indented your flesh. Riri was kind in her embrace. You were still having a hard time accepting that Riri Williams would be kind to you. Why would she be kind to you? Perhaps it was pity that drove her. The girl abandoned by her boyfriend. Drunk. Sad. Lonely. Of course she pitied you, you gave her ample reason to. If only you retained more, if only the specks behind your eyes would arrange themselves accordingly.

You decided to end your shower, your headache was subsiding, but thinking about Riri, trying to understand Riri was pulling it back. The shower had to remain your sanctuary, a safe place that she was not allowed to infiltrate. You deserved that at least.

Once you were dressed in your work uniform: blue polo with the Freeda’s logo, tan khakis, and your beat-up black vans, you exited your room. Dealing with your hair, you decided, would be tomorrow's problem. Your body still housed exhaustion, but the Tylenol you swallowed alleviated some discomfort. Opting for a low-tension hairstyle was your best bet: a low, very loose puff that poked out the back of your matching Freeda’s cap.

When you emerged into the living room, the sight of your roommate lounging on the couch with a bowl of Lucky Charms cradled in her palms, startled you. She had not been home in days and you’d grown used to living alone. You also enjoyed having the food you paid for to yourself as well. “Talia, what I tell you bout eating my shit?”

Her eyes did not leave the Tv screen as she scooped another spoonful into her mouth. You eyed her, watching as droplets of milk tumbled from the utensil to the cushions, growing annoyed with her lack of effort to clean it, or eat at the table. “I thought you bought it for both of us.”

You rolled your eyes, heading to the kitchen to fill your water bottle before leaving. There was already too much bouncing around in your head, and you refused to add Talia being a slob to that list. The time on the clock read 10:15. You were already late. Fantastic. A quick text to your manager would at least buy you some time, an hour at best, but you couldn't complain.

“Oh, those came for you.” Your gaze followed Talia’s finger and landed on a bouquet of flowers sitting on the floor, leaning against the door. The image pulled a memory to the forefront of your mind, the memory of you in that same position. Your back pressed flush against the door, you trying to catch your breath.

Something about last night made your heart race, even now. Your mind omitted that part, maybe it was best you couldn't remember, even though a small part of you yearned to know. Riri was involved, undoubtedly. Her essence always found itself present whenever your heart sprinted.

Your groan made your roommate turn her head, clearly more interested in your relationship drama than the show on the screen. Did Hakeem really think flowers, you picked them up and examined them, with a corny note would fix things? He was unbelievable.

“He dropped them off when you were in the shower. I ain't let him in though. He was fidgeting and looking all forlorn, so I just guessed y’all was fighting or something.” She stood, taking her bowl to the empty sink, and instead of washing it, she just set it down. Another thing that irked you about Talia. But she was real, the closest thing you had to a friend on campus, which was sad. Maybe this was why you sought after Riri so much; you needed female friendships. Talia would do for now though, even if she was messy and she ate all of your food.

“We are. But it’s whatever,” You lied, reaching for your bag. “I’m finna head out, and please wash that damn bowl T. You see it wasn’t nothing in the sink.”

“Don’t do me, Ima wash it, damn.”

•••

Taking the bus did not tend to be an activity enjoyed by most, and that was understandable. The fumes, the strangers, the waiting; these were all deterrents. None that affected you, however. The smells: burnt diesel and other mystery aromas were not favorites of yours, and the waiting was certainly not ideal, especially when you were almost an hour late to work already. But, you enjoyed people watching, guessing the destination of unknown persons. The authenticity of taking public transit was a lore that enticed you for some reason.

And it had ever since you were a child. It was not a stretch to say you loved taking the T. It cleared your head, made you think less. The morning rides consisted only of you and Steve Lacy massaging your eardrums. Quite literally no thoughts, solely vibes. This was your constant, a constant that never varied. Until now, as you sat, head vibrating against the window of the rumbling bus.

Your trip to work was one you looked forward to, it was your peace. Dealing with entitled customers was a stressor, evidently, so you reveled in your tranquil journey. Your music calmed you and kept you sane until you had to face the inevitable.

But Hakeem’s likeness being present in your mind only served as a source of agitation, his audacity. Flowers? Flowers were supposed to make you forgive him? Had he bothered to get your favorites, then maybe you’d be willing to hear him out. Did he even know your favorite flowers were Tulips? Ignoring your bubbling annoyance was near impossible, your brain refused to erase the image of wilted weeds on your floor. Using The Lo-Fis as an instrument of escape was not working either.

The texts were back, and every buzz felt from your phone tucked between your thighs made your eye twitch.

Keem: You get my flowers?

Keem: You at work yet? Can I swing by after I pick up my car?

Keem: I miss you baby

Keem: I know I fucked up, but can you please talk to me?

You: I hate Daisies.

The vibrations ceased and you grinned, but your leg continued its aggravated bouncing. The elderly lady seated next to you shifted some, clearly uncomfortable with your movements. Could she feel how angry you were? Possibly, but she would just have to deal with it. Two more stops until you got off. So much for enjoying your bus ride to work.

Your eyes rolled at the mere thought of Hakeem's face again. His pretty face, his pretty stupid face. Were relationships supposed to feel this way? This could very well be standard. It wasn’t like you’d know, you had nothing else to compare this one to, no other notches in your belt. Couples fought, your parents did, but they still loved each other.

It was possible you were overreacting. Many of your friends from high school would be urging you to forgive Hakeem. Should you? A question you pondered as you stepped off the bus and into the busy street. Forgiving him so soon didn’t feel right, primarily when you considered the severity of the situation. He left you alone at a party with dozens of strangers. Any number of things could've happened to you in that house. It was a huge fuck up, he knew this, and it was not something you were prepared to move past. And certainly not without a conversation.

But there was no desire to speak to him, so a conversation was off the table. Blowing up your phone would not change that.

Steve Lacy still sang sweetly to you on your upward trek, the question still thunderous in your mind. Your walk was short and familiar enough as you approached your destination. Daze ended, effortlessly transitioning into Out of Me Head, and you knocked.

Once. Twice. The door flung open right as you prepared for a third. “Yo, I told you to give me another hour, why you–”

Riri’s stunned expression forced you to smile hesitantly. “Hi, Riri.”

She glanced over her shoulder quickly, then back at you. Emotionless eyes on a stern face took you in, and you watched the way she sifted through expressions. Riri peered behind her again, before stepping completely out of her garage and shutting the door. She stood in front of you now: arms crossed and biceps flexing in her white tank top. Her braids were in a ponytail today, accentuating her facial features. The style brought those cheekbones out of hiding, simple, but cute.

She sounded bored when addressing you, “Aren't you supposed to be at work?”

It dawned on you then, that you were indeed supposed to be at work, and some of that off-the-hook buzzing your phone was doing could very likely be Benny. Realization settled in when you assessed your surroundings. You missed your stop, unconsciously, and somehow ended up here. At Riri’s garage. This wasn't something that's happened before. You never missed your stop, not ever. Every day, you rang the bell two stops after passing the KFC on the corner of Anchor Street, then you walked ten minutes up the road to the crosswalk, before finally arriving at the back of Freeda’s.

This was your routine, it had been for months. Usually, you followed a strict schedule, one that you rarely ever strayed from. Organization was important to you, punctuality was important to you, so it was safe to say you felt thrown.

But these were the consequences stemming from your decisions last night, the ones you claimed not to care about. The waking up late, the unsatisfactory ride, and the ending up here. All repercussions of your actions.

“Oh! Um, y-yeah I–” Stumbling over words around Riri was apparently your brand, you were trying, but the way she eyed you intently made it difficult. More difficult than need be. Damn those eyes of hers. Striking, intense, and curious. Enunciating in her presence was an impossible feat.

Staring back at her with the same intensity, that was your body's defense. Involuntary, but it seemingly did the job, because she shifted, and her arms loosened.

Riri cleared her throat, pushing her fists into the pockets of her sweats. It was only now that you realized she seemed fidgety. Her eyes were bloodshot and she was sweaty. She huffed, but it wasn't in annoyance, which was a first for her. “Um, what are you doing here?”

“I came to uh, say thank you. For taking me home I mean. I know you didn't have to but–” Was that why you were there?

She shook her head, “Nah it's cool. Not like I was gon leave you there.”

Ouch. That stung, and you could tell she knew that, that's why she said it. Riri only studied you like she was breaking you apart, digging beneath your surface in search of something. Something she wanted and could only find in you. It iced your skin, even in the warm air and you hugged your middle, making her chuckle knowingly.

“That all you came for? To say thank you? Cause I got shit to do today.”

You nodded, and she took that as her cue to leave. Desire to ask her about last night scorched your throat, the things you’d said. There was little reason to believe you hadn't embarrassed yourself, any time you had alcohol swiveling in your system, this was a given. So it was not a matter of if you had, but more so the extent. Riri held all the answers, but you weren't entirely confident in her willingness to bestow them upon you. Every encounter with her was evidence to back this claim.

Riri Williams enjoyed having the upper hand, in every situation really, and with everyone, but dominating you — besting you, scratched a particular itch she seemed to always have. It did not take long to pick up on this fact, and you knew she would dangle the answers you sought over your head if need be. You decided to ask anyway because what did you have to lose? Dignity? Shame? Surely you’d already lost those in Riri’s eyes.

“Actually th–” The door opened before she could turn the knob and you gasped.

A girl, almost the same height as you, maybe a few inches taller, emerged gracefully from inside the garage. Stunning. That was the only word your brain allowed you to think. She was stunning, breathtakingly so.

Tattoos covered her arms, twisting, turning, stretching, and connecting with the ones on her neck and chest. Each one of them a chapter in an overarching story. You wanted to read that story. They complimented her deep complexion well, so did the gold jewelry in both her nostrils, and the ones that ran along the length of her ears. A star-shaped ring poked through her septum, and it matched the one dangling from her belly button. And when she spoke, you took notice of the bead in her tongue.

“Oh hi! You're cute, who are you?” The compliment struck you. Hard. Her smile sucked you in as your eyes scanned her body. It curved in all the right places, all the places yours did not. This girl — this woman — exuded self-assurance. All the confidence in the world belonged to her, and she wasn't opposed to sharing, but only if you deserved it. You had to earn it. You wanted to earn it. Desperation drove your need to absorb the beams flowing off her person, and your face said as much.

Riri’s sly smirk did not go unnoticed, your awe amused her, but it was something you'd pay attention to later. Right now, all efforts were focused on her mystery girl. She made you feel small and insignificant, but there was no doubt she would build you a wall of security if you begged. You wanted to beg: for her name, her friendship.

Dark eyes and fiery hair colored your world as you racked your brain for your name. You had one and you knew it up until a second ago, the syllables danced right on your tongue.

You blinked. She was dead set on getting an answer, but you hadn't one to give. “I'm…”

Riri pulled the taller girl in by her perfect hips, fingers sliding over the many waist beads decorating the base of her spine. “That's Keem’s girl.”

Mystery girl’s arms draped Riri’s neck. She dragged them along her damp skin and your eyes chased her short manicured nails; you watched every move they made against Riri. How her thumbs grazed her jawline, how fingertips pushed against the nape of Riri’s neck, brushing the stray curls sitting there softly. She smoothed her palms over Riri’s throat, and the scientist grinned darkly. “Ahh, Keem’s girl.”

Your existence slipped their minds, this you were sure of. And you were proven correct when Riri squeezed Mystery girl’s ass in her flared, patterned, yoga pants. When you gasped again, Riri flicked her eyes to you, but it was only briefly. Her smirk, the one you'd witnessed hundreds of times over the past three months, was now in its deadliest form. She shot it directly at you with the intent to kill. And if you hadn't known better, you would have thought yourself dead.

Riri nodded against Mystery girl’s forehead. “Yup, Keem’s girl.”

You did not enjoy the way they placed emphasis on his name, Keem’s girl. They slurred it like you belonged to him, something possessed and owned. The two of them behaved as though you were some part of a secret only they shared, and you despised that too. How did this girl know you? How well did she know your boyfriend?

Mystery girl pulled away from Riri, but Riri yanked her back. The image of that exchange sparked a flicker of familiarity inside you. Riri was strong, her hold willful. You knew this from experience and you felt sorry for the girl. She did not at all look perturbed by Riri’s grip though, in fact, she looked as though she enjoyed it.

“Ri baby, I gotta go.” She whined, but Riri refused to let her go.

She giggled when Riri got on her tippy toes to kiss her neck. “I know.”

“So let me go? I was with you all night.” She giggled again, this time from Riri’s hands trailing her exposed back. She was with Riri all night? After she dropped you off?

This was an intimate moment between two women who were comfortable with each other in every way imaginable. You should look away, you should leave, go to work. But your pupils were locked on their embrace, locked on the way Riri showed affection.

“I'm seeing you later?” Riri laced her fingers through Mystery girl’s hand and she smirked down at the smaller girl.

She stayed silent for a beat, only eyeing Riri, making her anticipate an answer. And Riri was very much on her toes as she waited, eager to know. You too, found yourself anxious to know as you pursued her unspoken words. Would Riri indeed be seeing this Crimson-haired goddess later?

She bit her lip and Riri gasped, “Ion know. You wasn't really nice to me last night.”

“You know you love when I'm mean.”

Your body's reaction to that line was odd. A strange feeling, one you were unaccustomed to. A whimper? You swallowed it back down and blinked, you should really get to work. But your feet were planted in the gravel, unmoving and awkwardly standing as the two women devoured each other before you.

Riri was the first to break the kiss, and she exhaled. “So I'm seeing you later.”

“I ain't say all that.”

She wiped her lip with the pad of her thumb, “But I am seeing you.” A statement, not a question. Riri was confident in this, she was certain of it.

Mystery goddess girl rolled her eyes and kissed Riri on her cheek, “You gon see me Ri baby.”

“You know I love when you say my shit like that.”

The girl smiled and backed away slowly, eyes still locked on Riri’s frame. “Yeah? I’ll make sure to say it like that tonight then.”

“Bye Keem’s girl.” And with a flirty wave, she was off, strutting toward a jeep that rivaled her afro’s flames.

Her scent danced past you as it followed her, lingering in your air, permeating your pores. She smelled of shea butter and incense. Jojoba oil and fresh vanilla. It was all too much, too heady, and that throb from this morning returned. Only this time you welcomed it, this time the pain was necessary if you planned to keep her aroma in your memory. “B-Bye…”

Your eyes scurried after her, widening at the way her hips switched. Your own hips couldn't — wouldn't — move that way if you dedicated your life to making them. It was obvious she was a lot, but a lot was enough, it would have to be if you planned to make Riri’s gorgeous, goddess, mystery girl your friend.

Riri watched you watch her girl, and those searing eyes of hers rose in temperature the longer you stared. She’d been eyeing you for a minute, so long you were beginning to sense her bustling...annoyance, was it? When you spun to face her, you learned you were indeed correct, Riri was annoyed.

Funny how that worked. Minutes ago she was making out with the most gorgeous girl, blissfully ignoring your existence, and now, your existence was all she paid attention to. Her quick way of shifting between emotions was truly something. She scrutinized you in that tense way she did, and you wanted to shy away from her glare.

“Why are you still here again?” She didn't wait for your response. Riri opened the door and stepped through, so naturally, you followed her like the lost puppy you were.

•••

The garage was messier than when you were there last. Riri’s tools were scattered about, half-done sketches and crumpled sheets of paper littered the floor, scrap metal too. Dull, clunky, and unpolished.

There was a lack of organization, lack of structure in the way the parts were disbursed, like she’d just dragged them in and left them wherever. You stepped over each of them carefully, inspecting them intently. It was eerie really; you’d imagined what Riri’s brain would look like if it were to explode countless times, and the scene before you now, matched your conjured scenario perfectly. The accuracy astonished you.

The endless scribbles on her board were to be expected, dimensions for something she was clearly building, or rather something she was enhancing. The dented steel and iron plates in the corner told you as much, but identifying the something was another task entirely. It had your gears turning though, your own mind alive and brimming with possibility.

Fighting the impulse to touch her things was hard, they were pretty, and you were curious. But you heeded her previous outburst; upsetting her once more was not in your plans.

Riri disregarded you completely, attention stolen away by her work on Hakeem’s silver Toyota.

That stupid Toyota. He’d kissed you for the first time in that car, after your second date. He was sweet, so gentle in the way he'd held your face and brushed your lips. The pair of you had many memories wrapped up in that car, but now, you only wanted to smash it. Break the frame you placed it in, the frame that housed your memories, and undo all of Riri’s work on the vehicle.

“Ugh.” Your scoff was loud and apparently alarming enough to perk Riri’s ears, and she let a chuckle slip.

She seemed fine with your still being there, unperturbed and content to continue ignoring you. Why were you still there? Why weren't you at work? You’d texted Benny a half-assed lie about cramps, he didn't question you, and it made you grateful for the terror menstruation awoke in most men.

So now here you stood, aimlessly gazing and fidgeting around Riri’s safe space, a safe space you'd infiltrated twice now. As your brain spun in deliberation, you shifted your weight from your right leg to your left with a huff. You still wanted to ask her about last night, but you could not decide on the best approach.

“Bruh, if you just gon stand there looking lost, can you just be quiet or something? Damn. All that heavy breathing.”

Her admonishment caught you off guard, you weren't aware she was paying attention to you and you truly didn't know what to say. “Uh...”

Riri’s head emerged from under the car’s hood and she leaned on the front of it. Her eyes were glued to you immediately after, scanning your work uniform up and down. Yours, however, panned to every other thing that occupied the same space as the two of you: the car tires, the cloaked bike sitting unbothered next to her car, her computer screens.

Another staring match would not be smart, you hadn't the stomach for it. The goal was nonchalance, but it was a failed attempt, you knew this the moment you caught her snide chuckle.

“If you insist on being here, for whatever reason, you could at least help me.”

Surely you didn't hear her correctly. Riri Williams wanted your help? Your face must've given your bewilderment away, because she rolled her eyes and parted her lips to clarify, “I meant like hand me tools and shit. No way Ima actually trust you to work on Keem’s car. You might fuck around and pour peroxide in his gas tank or something.”

You bit back a laugh and she quirked a brow. She wasn't wrong, fantasies about sabotaging his motor, slashing his tires, and removing his spark plugs were rattling around in your head, especially with it sitting right in front of you. But you'd never do anything too crazy.

“Peroxide in the gas tank is definitely an idea. Luckily for him I'm not insane.” You stepped over to her hesitantly and stood beside the vehicle, awaiting instruction.

Riri huffed, holding in her own laughter, “Right...” Gloved hands pushed off the car’s hood and her head disappeared again.

“Hand me that ten millimeter.” Riri outstretched her palm, waiting for you to press the tool into it.

She loosened the bolts with the socket and you watched her wrist twist with practiced precision, popping them all off one by one, and a line of sweat trickled down your back.

“His alternator is fucked up, ain't it?” Your neck craned nosily as she examined the way the serpentine belt was wound, paying close attention to its connection to other components around it. You knew she'd have to reroute it again once finished, back around all the engine pulleys. Once she had the belt removed completely, she scanned it for frays. And just as you’d suspected, there were many. She’d have to replace that too.

All those times you’d warned him about his dimming headlights, the countless times you'd pointed out his check engine light, his battery light. Hakeem’s dashboard always twinkled and blinked. And he promptly ignored all of the flickering. You knew something was up with his car, long before that grinding noise emerged too. His car was old, and with old age came problems, but a lot of this could've been avoided if he wasn't as stubborn as he was.

“Yup.” Riri plucked the corroded car part off the side of the engine and presented it to you. Luckily, replacing it was a quick fix, even quicker with Riri at work. She bit her glove off before swatting sweat from her temples with her bare hands and you swallowed harshly.

You coursed each of her motions, watching as she walked over to her messy work table and rummaged through the clutter for the replacement part. Her shoulder blades flexed as she dug around and Riri spoke to you with her back turned. “So, you gon tell me the real reason you showed up here? And why you ain't at work?”

“Just to say thank you. For last night.” She was in front of you again, swirling the part in her hand and your mind alike. It was larger than her entire palm, but she fisted it like a pro.

That smirk was back, less murderous, still as sly. “You sticking to that, huh?”

“You think there's another reason I'm here?” The warmness of the garage and the heat radiating off Riri who stood impossibly close were on a mission to strangle you, you were sure of it. She inspected the alternator in her palm, then her eyes panned to you. She inspected your posture, assessed your breathing, then shook her head.

Your hip was still pressed into Hakeem’s car, the socket wrench still dangled from your digits. Averting her glare was never a thing you could do for long, so eventually, your eyes met. Amusement clouded her pupils, amusement and intrigue. Something else too, but you wouldn't touch that, not now.

She bit her lip, eyes still taunting you. “I know why you're here.”

“Why am I here?” Immediately, you regretted the question. The tilt of her head, the curve of her lips, and the narrowing of her eyes alerted you that her answer would not be one you enjoyed.

“You wanna know if you said any weird shit in the car when I drove you home. If you revealed your deepest darkest secrets to me and what not.” She snorted.

You didn't speak, too stunned at her blatant expression of knowledge. Were you that readable? Were you that predictable? Your inhales were uneven, Riri knew this. Her focus on your floating chest told you that. Your polo cloaked your sternum, sheltered those previously exposed parts from the night in question, yet somehow Riri Williams still stripped you bare with those brown orbs of hers.

“I–”

Riri stepped away from you and back to the car, but her eyes lingered on your bearing, marking down its abrupt shift. “You ain't say nothing for real. I mean you said stuff, but not like nun crazy. Well, I mean...”

“What did I say?”

“You wanna hand me that?” She pointed to the belt tensioner bar with a grin and you obliged anxiously, though you could tell she had no plans to answer your question.

Gloved fingers grazed yours delicately, and the sensation tugged on a raspy exhale. You knew this contact; the feeling, the picture was fresh in your memory, albeit skewed. Hands, fingers, reluctance to let go. Riri’s hands, Riri’s fingers, Riri’s reluctance to let go. Of you, of your hand. You blinked, struggling to arrange your thoughts behind your lids.

Another blink. A snapshot of an image. The image of Riri at your door. One more image. Riri’s palm protectively holding yours: tentative, reassuring, grounding.

Fingers snapping in your face pulled you out of your head and back into the world around you. You had to adjust to the lights and your eyes panned down to your boyfriend's car just in time to see Riri replace the battery. She tightened the hold down bracket as a final step and shut the hood, making you jump.

“Aye, can you go start the car for me real quick? The keys are on the seat.”

You nodded slowly, mouth agape, and those amused irises stalked you as you hopped in the front seat. When you turned the key, the engine roared to life, and missing the little self-satisfied smirk that formed on Riri’s lips was impossible. She was proud of herself; it was endearing. You were grinning soon after, voluntarily, as you watched her clean her hands with a nearby rag.

She was thorough with it. She swiped the cloth between her greasy digits and your mind ran back to the detail you uncovered moments ago: Riri Williams held your hand. Those same fingers held yours. What were you to do with that information?

“Aww shit, my baby sounding nice Ri.” The chipper chime of Hakeem’s voice caused your eyes to roll, and it returned your irritation at full force. His footsteps approached the car and you shoved the door open before he could speak to you, jabbing him right in the abdomen.

You were beginning to understand Riri’s love for a good scowl, the one you tossed his way was dangerous, and seeing him recoil satisfied. Hakeem held his stomach, watching you exit his vehicle winningly, and without so much as a word. You caught Riri’s expression, and you were stunned to see her laugh. This laugh was real, one that harbored no sympathy for her best friend. She was genuinely delighted at the sight of him doubled over in pain.

Having Riri on your side made your empty stomach flutter. You’d made her laugh. A step in the right direction, you thought. Possibly.

“Damn baby, not gon say I ain't deserve that, but damn.”

You rolled your eyes again at his words and backed away when he tried pulling you in for a hug. “Fuck away from me.”

Hakeem threw his hands up, “Aight, aight, you got it. But why you not at work? I was gon pull up after I got my car.”

“Ion know what would make you think I would want that. Ion even wanna see you now.” You spat, and his eyes pleaded with you. It wasn't working though, it wouldn't work this time. “And if you must know, I'm not at work because I came here to thank Riri for making sure I got home safely after your bum ass left me to go do whatever the fuck you was doing with random ass niggas last night.”

He tried stepping closer, but you cut your eyes as a warning, and he stepped back again. “I shouldn't have left, but I can't lie, I knew you'd be good with Riri.”

“Aht aht, leave my name out of it.” Riri had taken to tidying up her clutter a bit, tossing things she had no use for. The moment Hakeem mentioned her name however, she readily put a stop to it, and her scolding eyes knocked her best friend down a few notches.

You nodded, letting his words sink in. “So no apology, no accountability? Right, okay. Yeah, fuck you Hakeem.”

His steps were quick behind you as you trotted toward the door, you knew they would be. A small part of you wanted him to follow you. When his fingers brushed your wrist, your legs halted and he spun you. “I'm sorry. I am, I'll never do no shit like that again, that's a promise.”

“Anything could've happened to me in that house Hakeem. I ain't know them people,” Your glare remained stern. “And your bitch ass just decided that it was okay to dip. And let's not forget you did say you were coming back. Didn't you say that?”

Your words were nails, spiteful as they hammered into his chest with force. You took note of the way his face twisted as you recounted his wrongdoings, he was hurt and disappointed in himself. Good. He deserved to hurt, you wanted him to. “I should've believed Riri when she told me you weren't coming back.”

“I'm sorry. I know it ain't enough, but I really am sorry baby girl.”

That rogue baby girl tossed in there should do the trick, it should be the thing to compel your immediate forgiveness. Because those remorseful eyes, and those dimples he kept hidden weren't holding it down on their own. His pretty frown did not move you, so he relied solely on those two words. Unfortunately for Hakeem though, you would not be so easily swayed. It just would not happen, not on his terms.

“You can be sorry. I believe that you are, but you're not forgiven.” You spared a glance at Riri who'd stopped what she was doing. She listened to your word exchange with your boyfriend, and her eyes dazzled with something akin to pride.

She cleared her throat, crossing her arms as she leaned against the parked Toyota. “Y’all done? Cause Keem I need you to get this relic out my garage. Just sitting here it's devaluing all my other shit.”

“Yeah and I gotta get to work. Bye Riri, thanks, again for not being a lame ass piece of shit.”

He reached for your wrist once more, and you let him, despite all of your fibers fighting against it. “Please, just let me drive you? Just let me do this one thing before I leave for the weekend?”

Your eyeroll was to be your yes. It was all he’d get. He grinned softly, and fuck, there they were. Those fucking dimples. Why were you so weak over a division in a person's zygomaticus major? You would have to conduct a study on this very question eventually.

He moonwalked away like a dork, a very cute dork, and you reprimanded yourself for nearly giving in completely. “Alright Ri, talk to me. What's wrong with my baby?”

She regarded him with disgust, and the sight was nice. Seeing that glower directed at him and not you made you blush a little, and you scolded yourself for that too.

“Well ain't shit wrong with her now. But you had hella misfire which was cause of your rusty ass alternator. I replaced that. And your serpentine belt cause that was tore up. Battery was damn near fried. Ima be honest Keem, I really don't know how you was getting around in this car.”

He laughed, because only Hakeem would find hilarity in a situation so dire. “How many times I done told you about that damn car Hakeem?!” You yelled from your spot at the door, arms crossed in annoyance.

“Ain't my fault I'm God's favorite.”

Riri scoffed at the same time you did, and she met your eye line briefly before turning all her attention back to your boyfriend and his death trap. “You not nobody favorite.”

“Nigga did you sleep here?!” You became alarmed by his immediate disregarding of his car. Seconds ago his voice held its signature cheery beat, now though, Hakeem's tone dipped far below the octave you were familiar with. His eyes turned erratic and accusing, darting between Riri and the pillows and blankets on the tattered couch perched at the back of the space.

She tensed instantly at the question. Her jaw locked, there was a gulp, and you studied the measured way she exhaled. You recognized panic, exceedingly well, and that's what Riri did now. She panicked. Hakeem’s question flared fright inside her, and she stumbled over a reply. “Nigga why you in my business?”

A deflection, and a weak one at that. Hakeem thought so too, his expression unimpressed and demanding, but it softened as he looked at her. “Ri, did you sleep here for real?”

“My girl was over last night.” This was your first time hearing her voice emerge so small from her throat. Riri, who always seemed sure of herself, sounded meek, and wounded. Shame stormed her eyes and she flinched when Hakeem spoke again.

He shook his head, “That's not what I asked you.”

“Hakeem, if you wanna drive me to work Ima need you to get on that like right now. Cause I'm already late.”

He ripped his stare from Riri to you, contemplating. You could tell he wanted to continue hounding his best friend, but he also wanted to ease back into your good graces. And if Riri’s quivering lips were an indicator, she wanted an out from this conversation, needed one. So you decided to grant her that by stealing Hakeem's attention. It didn't take long for her to catch wind of your gesture, and those eyes of hers brimmed with appreciation. Riri appreciated you.

You tried not to read into it. You fought your smile. And you lost.

Watching her only broadened it, and you could've sworn there was a slight rise in the right corner of her lips. Or maybe you just wanted there to be.

Hakeem grumbled, “Alright baby let's go.” He glared at Riri. “But we ain't done.”

You walked over to where they stood, and climbed into the front seat with your bag. Riri pressed the garage door opener, and her thumb stuttered. She was still shaken. Miraculous. It was miraculous that you caught that, it was such a subtle thing, barely anything. But you were attentive, you noticed most things about everyone. Observing was a hobby, and it was a hobby you exceeded at.

Hakeem climbed inside and turned the key, cheering when the vehicle revved awake. He rubbed the dash, pressing his face to the wheel and you groaned. “That's my girl. I knew you still had some fight in you.”

As he backed out, your anxiety grew. After having a look under his hood, you weren't entirely confident in this car’s ability to take you anywhere. The bus was safer. “If you kill me in this thing Hakeem we done for real.”

“Ima see you Ri.” He laughed and you waved hopefully at Riri. She didn't return it; expecting her to was wishful thinking

Hakeem was zipping down the street moments later. Your nausea was back now, and with it came that same dread from this morning as well.

•••

Fifteen minutes later, Hakeem pulled up to Freeda’s. All his attempts to talk to you on the drive were proven failures; you drowned him out with your airpods.

“Thanks.” It was emotionless, but you feigned that. Emotions were in fact flowing through you, bubbling ones, ones that scorched. But you swallowed them and allowed them to simmer. He was leaving the city in a few hours. You wouldn't see him and he wouldn't hear from you for the next two days, longer if you had any say in it.

Hakeem's hand grazed your thigh as you moved to get out and you shot him a look. “Just, can you do me a favor while I'm gone?”

“No.” You shifted again, but he pulled you back. “Nigga, don't–”

He reached for your hand, you wanted to snatch it away, but a tender kiss to your knuckles softened your hard exterior. Damn him. “What do you need?”

“Check on Riri for me? Just swing by her dorm, make sure she good?”

You laughed, but his face never moved. Hakeem was authentic in his concern, making you sigh. “Riri don't like me, Keem. And she damn sure won't want me checking up on her.”

“Just, please. She got some stuff going on and I just wanna make sure she don't work herself to death or nothing. That's it.”

Unrest on Hakeem was not a sight you were used to, and it was all for Riri. It made you revisit the panic you witnessed in her eyes. That was strange for her, strange for the Riri you knew. The Riri you’d grown to know carried herself with unshakeable confidence, and you’d never seen even a crack in that. Until today, until Hakeem questioned her about where she spent the night.

It was a question you saw no fault in, if you had noticed the scene he did you would've wondered the same. Inquiring about it would've been off the table, you didn't share the relationship they did, so you couldn't. But it would've been a thought.

Something about that sentiment bothered you. “Okay.”

“Thank you baby.”

You moved for the door again, but you stopped. Your own question barring you this time. “Keem, do you know a girl with a red afro, lots of tattoos, lots of piercings?”

Your description of Riri’s Mystery girl was kept vague on purpose, surely if he knew her that would be more than enough to garner you an answer though.

“Kinda tall, big ass…” He trailed off and you tilted your head, urging him to continue, daring him to try you. “Big ass smile, um, that's what I was gon say. Yeah I know her, Zariyah. She got a big ass smile.” He was audacious. Dumb and stupid and immensely audacious.

“And how you know her exactly?” Your brow quirked, and he shifted uncomfortably under your scrutiny.

Hakeem cleared his throat dramatically and your eyes rolled. “Uh that's Riri’s girl.”

“As in girlfriend?”

He made a curious sound as he rubbed your knuckles with his thumb and it served as nothing more than an irritant. “I mean…”

There was no doubt your face displayed confusion. Was it not a simple yes or no question? “Do you know her in the way Riri knows her?”

This made him chuckle, and it was loud too. “Oh nah nah nah. Zariyah do not swing that way.”

“Huh?”

“She’s gay. Like, gay gay. And she's all about Riri.”

Gay gay. And all about Riri. Okay… The way she spoke earlier made it seem like she knew Hakeem personally. But maybe you read into it too much? Her energy was obscuring that's for sure, and that could've been a factor in your misunderstanding. “She's a lesbian?”

“Yeah.”

“But she’s so pretty.” It was the wrong thing to say. Hakeem's face told you as much. You didn't plan to say it, but the words were on your tongue and out of your mouth before you had the chance to bite them back.

He let your hand go, practically shoved you away, and it startled you. “What you mean by that?”

“No, she's like, I–” Fuck. Words, you needed words to explain your slip up, but even they wanted nothing to do with you now. They avoided you; disappointed and disgusted, and it was with those same emotions that your boyfriend looked at you.

“Bae, you can't be saying shit like that.”

You nodded, you agreed with him. The mere utterance of the sentence crawled your skin. You were trying, unlearning. “I know. I didn't mean it like that. I know pretty girls can be lesbians I just–”

Your breathing increased rapidly and you spluttered nonsensical words. “Baby relax. You're good.”

“I'm sorry.” He guided you through an exhale with a small smile and once again those dimples centered you. Hakeem grounded you just by being, it was a skill, your favorite thing about him. He’d learned you so wholly and the ease in which he did it astonished you.

“You're good. Just, don't say nothing like that again.”

You nodded once more, and this time you smiled back at him.

He squinted at you in that mischievous way he often did and you mentally prepared yourself for what would come. “Why you asking about Riy anyway?”

“So she's Riy now?”

It sank in for him then, and your drive to crawl into a hole was at its strongest. “Oh, she's jealous. You jealous of Riy baby girl?”

Were you jealous? You rolled your eyes at him, “Don't be doing all that. Ain't nobody jealous. I just saw her with Riri earlier and she seemed to know you, and me. So… I was just curious.”

“Mhmm. Okay. We already done established she’s gay as hell. And don't look at nobody who ain't Riri. And if she know anything about you, it's cause I be talking bout you a lot, so you're good, I promise.”

He grinned and you groaned, “I gotta go.”

“Can I get a kiss?” The pearly whites were on full display, so bright and blinding that you almost gave in. But then you remembered you were still angry with him, and he was not forgiven.

You opened the door and leapt out, then slammed it. That was answer enough, but his grin did not waiver. He smiled at you the entire time, waiting for you to make it all the way inside before pulling off.

•••

After your shift, you craved only a single thing: your bed. Your comfy duvet, the plushness of pillows against moisturized skin. Aching muscles yearned for that sensation, to sink into your mattress and be whisked into slumber.

Unfortunately, this luxury was not awarded to you. Because you had homework. And you happened to be a good girlfriend. Which is how you found yourself at Riri’s dorm clutching your backpack and preparing to knock.

Your knuckles rapped at the wood and it took less than a minute for the door to open. Riri’s nose was in her phone, grinning as she swiftly typed a message, and curiosity got the better of you. Prying eyes stole a quick glance at her screen before she caught you and she stuffed the device into her back pocket. The only information you were able to gather was the contact name: Z Baby.

Her decision to acknowledge you was not one made lightly, her grimace displayed that. Her decision to acknowledge you with contempt, however, that you knew came with ease.

“Bruh, you have got to be kidding me. The fuck do you want now?”

You swallowed hard and cleared your throat. You came prepared for this question, for this reaction. “Hey Riri.”

“What do you want?”

Stern irritation glazed her words and you could empathize with that. This was the second time in one day you’d shown up at her door. Well, doors, plural. And you did so unprompted, though your being here now was only to bring your boyfriend comfort. “I thought maybe we could do our homework together?”

“And why the hell would you think I would want that?”

You hadn't expected her to say yes. Yes was easy, and Riri was everything but. “Ion know, I kinda been struggling with some of the concepts and since you're pretty good at this stuff, I just thought maybe you could help me?”

This was not entirely true. Yes, some of the concepts in your differential equations class were hard, but they were supposed to be. You were fine with that, it didn't hinder your ability, you were only looking for a way into her room.

Riri tapped the small whiteboard pinned to her door with her pointer finger, gesturing to the problem written on it. “What does that say?”

“Collatz Conjecture has never been solved, Riri.” You rolled your eyes. So much animosity in such a small body, no way she wasn't exhausted.

“Then why did you knock? The instructions was right in your face. Solve, or don't knock. You know, the way you keep showing up kinda feels like that.” She pointed to the board again.

“What? Like I’m putting you in the 4 2 1 loop?”

She smirked, “Exactly.”

You huffed, growing impatient with her antics. Instances like these reminded you why you avoided her, but that ceased to be the case these days. “Look, I know you don't like me but–”

“Oh? You know that?”

You sighed again, “But, my roommate’s out with her friends, Keem’s out of town and we aren't really in the best place anyway, as you know. And I hate studying and doing homework alone so I wanted to study with you. We have the same class so it makes sense.”

Most of that was a lie. Being left alone was something you enjoyed a lot. You hated unwanted persons being in your space, which was why you understood Riri’s attitude towards you showing up out of the blue. But again, you were a good girlfriend, and Riri deserved to have someone check on her. Even if she made the deed impossible.

“You don't got friends?”

“No.” You spat it harshly, but it was a truthful spit. Something shone in her eyes at your admission. Understanding? Relation?

Riri shifted, pulling her phone out and checking the time. “I got company coming over in an hour, and you gon be up outta here before she get here.” She stepped aside, allowing you in and you shot her a winning smile, one that she scoffed at.

“Sit on the bed, don't touch shit.” Powerful words, shaking words. They drilled into you, her tone laid their foundation, and you did exactly as you were told.

Once settled, legs crossed and bag unpacked, you jumped straight into your work. You chewed on your eraser, deep in thought as you pondered over the questions before you. Riri sat inches from you at her desk, submerged entirely in her phone screen.

Surprisingly, she hadn't shifted her eyes to you one time in the past twenty minutes. This, you weren't expecting. Riri’s exacting gaze was one you’d found yourself used to, one you anticipated whenever you were around her. Whether she shielded it, which she hardly ever did, or not.

But now, even as you sat, unattended on her bed, she paid you no mind. It wasn't an action that you were bothered by, just one you weren't prepared for. It was new, but you could adjust to new. A sigh escaped you as you moved on to the next problem on your homework, and you looked over at Riri. Her smile was still resting on her face like something built in and permanent.

“Your girlfriend is really pretty.” The rumble of your own voice startled you with the drawl of each syllable. This was not something you'd plan to admit, but it was out, and the statement had Riri’s attention.

She spun in her chair to face you, and there they were. Deep brown globes; melted and murky, and forceful as hell. They forced their way beneath the surface of your skin, scanning, searching. “What?”

“Your girlfriend. She's really pretty and seems really cool.” You’d been thinking about Riri’s Mystery girl all day. Her aura, her fragrance, that gold bead punched into her tongue. She was an unforgettable being. A being, you’d found this was the best way to describe her. Otherworldly.

Riri laughed, shaking her head as she eyed you. “Yeah. Zariyah is real cool.”

“She looking for friends by any chance?” You knew your eyes bore desperation. It was hard to care though.

“You wanna be friends with Zariyah?��

You nodded, excited. “I mean, well, yeah.”

“Riy would eat you alive.” And the way she said that sparked a thrill of intrigue. “You ain't ready for that.”

“Ready for what?” Desperate eyes turned curious, and you squinted at her.

Riri’s laugh was always a tad jeering when it was genuine, and you noticed that now with the way she chuckled at you and your request to befriend her girlfriend? Was Zariyah her girlfriend? Hakeem hadn't exactly clarified that for you. “Focus on them problems you working on and stop asking bout my peoples.”

“Can I ask about last night then?” You watched as she sucked in a breath and visibly tensed. Glazed eyes froze on you; their amused tint disappeared, and now, Riri regarded you with uncertainty.

One eye twitched, only for a second, but you saw it. Her panic from earlier brewed beneath that twitching eye, preparing for a spill, but Riri was not the type to let it boil over, especially not in front of you. You weren't Hakeem and you had no exacting effect over her emotions. None that were positive anyway, and none that got her to open up. She could hide whatever was going on from you, and feel no guilt or shame.

That's the other thing you noticed earlier. Shame, painted so prominently across her beautiful face. It complicated her features, blurred them sort of. Shame did not belong there. You couldn't comment on it though, not now. Because that wasn't why you were there. You showed up only to ease Hakeem’s mind, not to pick at Riri's.

“Last night?” Her question was guarded, like she was waiting for something.

You sighed with a nod, “You said I didn't reveal my deepest darkest secrets.”

“You didn't.”

“But I did embarrass myself?” This question’s answer existed already, but you asked anyway because apparently you had a humiliation kink.

Her eyes stilled, relaxing once she realized your inquiries weren't going to be about her. “Oh most definitely.”

“What did I say?”

Riri tilted her head curiously, allowing her pupils to fill with mirth. “You really don't remember what happened last night?”

Your own words of the night eluded you, that was correct. Something else cloaked them. Riri’s hand on you, in yours, those images transcended anything you could've said. Those you had no choice but to remember. Riri’s touch lingered on you still, the heat of her caress was…so much. It was mainly the shock of it really, because you didn't understand it. She puzzled you with her hot and cold, and you didn't like that.

You shook your head, and her body loosened some more, regaining her signature nonchalant slouch. “Well, you cried. Like a lot. And you screamed at me to get away from you, and not to touch you.”

“I think I would remember crying.” You didn't, but it tracked.

“You did, and you tried to run away from me, then you fell, so.”

You groaned at this, slamming your closed textbook against your forehead. “No...”

“You also accused me of being in love with my best friend, which was just…yeah.”

Another groan, this time accompanied by a heated blush. “Fuck...”

“Then you choked yourself with the seatbelt tryna get out the car after tryna convince me you was strong quote ‘like that iron girl from youtube.’” She let herself laugh as she recounted your behavior, and you did the same, even though you were stewing in a pot of embarrassment. It was nice though, seeing her this lax. It gave you a semblance of hope. Maybe you hadn't screwed things up so terribly, and Riri was not entirely closed off to the idea of friendship.

You did, however, pay attention to her purposeful omission of certain details. She did not mention embracing you, nor did she bring up her lingering fingers.

“Was that all? Please tell me that was all, god I can't take anymore.” A test.

One that she failed. “Yeah. I think that's it.” Probably the first test Riri Williams had ever failed in her life. It left you more perplexed than before, but you were beginning to suspect constant confusion would be your new normal when it came to her.

Like her warm fingers, Riri’s gaze lingered on your body as you sat with your legs crisscrossed on her bed. Your laughter subsided, and the cycle was spinning once again. Your skin prickled and tightened. She blinked and you exhaled. Riri licked her lips, fixating specifically on your thighs. And suddenly, the air in the room was too thick to breathe in. Your shorts felt too short and you regretted not opting for sweats. Goosebumps crowded your arms and your neck heated the longer she watched you.

When her phone pinged, it stole her attention and you thanked the universe for making that happen. If Riri stared at you for any longer, you were sure spontaneous combustion would be the end result.

She was once again consumed with her phone and the conversation happening within it. And she'd done it again, flicked the switch that made you an afterthought. The action only cemented how trivial you and your presence were to her.

Returning to your homework was a smart idea, though it took you a minute. You were waiting to see if she would turn around again, but she did not. So you copied her, letting your work consume you and you tuned out her small chuckles whenever a new text message rolled in.

Your professor had assigned some tough problems, but they weren't anything you couldn't handle. A few sighs of frustration did slip whenever you hit a roadblock, though. Which was where you were now, stumped by a particular equation. You sighed again, this one long, this one grabbing Riri’s attention finally.

“Bruh, you gotta shut up or go. You fucking with my concentration.” You weren't entirely sure what she'd enraptured herself with at her desk, but it was not homework. She tinkered with something, and it buzzed lowly. Truthfully, she too was fucking with your own concentration, but you couldn't tell her that, not when she was allowing you to be in her room.

“This problem is really hard, it's just taking me a minute.”

She huffed and you could only assume an eyeroll came along with it as well. “I don't care. Like I said, shut up or get out.”

“Is it in your nature to be bitchy all the damn time?” You dropped your pencil, eyeing her back.

Riri made no move to turn, she only grumbled a response, shoving her face closer to her desk and whatever she was fiddling with. “You in my space blowing your hot ass breath every five seconds. I got the right to be bitchy.”

“Ugh. I’ll go once I solve this.”

“Well hurry up. And I'm not helping you, if that's what all that huffing and puffing is about.”

You scoffed at her, there was absolutely no way she thought you were begging for her help. “Girl, ain't nobody asked for your help.”

She laughed smugly and you watched her fingers clamp around a small screwdriver. “Oh, you didn't?”

“Nah.” Tossing her infamous line back at her made you feel triumphant, because it seemed to still her movements. She dropped her tools and wheeled her chair closer to where you sat on her bed, intrigued. Riri snatched your notebook, scanning the page and the equations you had scribbled on it.

“You got some shitty ass handwriting.” Once she was finished, she tossed it back at you. “And ain't no way you solving that tonight.”

“I can.”

She stood, spinning the chair so the back was facing you before sitting back down with her front pressed against it. Her eyes screamed for a challenge, and you were prepared to give her one. “You really believe that you can, this is so interesting.”

Your glower made her laugh some. You were one eye roll away from yet another splitting headache, it was draining, but Riri Williams was relentless. “You know we're in the same class right?”

“Yeah, but I done seen you almost break your neck tryna stay awake in there.”

“Doesn't mean I don't know the material.”

“I've never seen you confident before.” The way she spoke her sentence made your insides bustle. There was some underlying meaning, but it wasn't one you could figure out. You were focused on the problem at hand, and you were focused on proving yourself.

Your quipped response made Riri’s eyes flare. For a second, it shook you, but only slightly. You stood firm in your declaration because you knew your potential. “I'm confident in my ability to solve this equation.”

“Bet money.” It flew out of her quick and you groaned. Of course she would take this route. A childish one, but you were willing to indulge.

“Five dollars says I can.”

She shook her head, unconvinced, “That's baby money. And for a problem that long, nah.”

“Well Riri, that's all I have in my wallet right now.” You whined. She was truly impossible.

“Fine. Five bucks, but you gotta solve it in five minutes.”

You rejected this proposal, because it was insane. “That's not fair.”

“Well.” She shrugged and you could tell that she wouldn't change her mind. Accepting was your only way out. You would not be bested, and you quite liked the idea of being five dollars richer.

“Okay, fine.”

You grabbed your pencil again, this time determination fueled you. Before, you were ready to give up, eager, but Riri’s taunting put a stop to all that. You would show her, she would see just how capable you were.

Examining the equation before you with a straight face was not easy. Honestly, a lot about what you were looking at puzzled you, but Riri didn't need to know that. Your eraser tapped your chin, mind whirring. “Okay… so I can't separate it because there's two terms on the bottom.”

“This is hilarious because it's so easy.”

“Bruh shut up! I'm tryna think.” Her eyes widened, and she flinched at your outburst. You startled yourself with it too, but it only seemed to make her already existing grin wider.

Again, you went over the different ways to solve it, there were a few, but you were after the easiest route. Time was of the essence. “Fuck, substitution!”

Riri hummed approvingly beside you, “There you go.”

“All I have to do is let u equal the square root of y, but then I’ll have to find du, ugh!” You looked at your work, then over at your laptop. Two minutes, you had enough time. “Okay, okay square both sides. Now I have u squared equals y. Take the derivative, so 2udu equals dy…”

“Times ticking ma.” She was so smug about it, so sure you’d lose. It enraged you. Having others doubt your capabilities was not something you were used to. If it happened, you were never made aware. Until Riri. She doubted you, and merely for her own enjoyment. You envisioned smacking that smirk right off that pretty face. You could do it, right now. Her strength rivaled yours, sure, but she wasn't very big. You could do a lot to her, a lot that she would not be able to counter.

You scribble the last of your answer right as she called, “Time.”

She reached for the paper, inspecting it thoroughly. Her eyebrows raised and your face grew hot the longer she revised your work. Now you were doubting yourself. Did you make a mistake? It was possible. A mistake would throw the entire answer off. And Riri would catch a mistake, however minuscule. You studied her face, searching tirelessly for a tell, anything that would let you know where her head was at.

No. You wouldn't do that to yourself. You refuted the idea that you’d failed. That was not a possibility. You did the work, you studied the material and Riri Williams would not make you feel–

“Damn. Guess I owe you that five.”

Your smile spread like a Cheshire cat’s. It consumed your entire face, every corner, and Riri only watched you, eyes colored with something resembling wonder. “I told you!”

She wheeled her chair back over to her junky desk and plucked a crisp five dollar bill from her wallet. She then presented it to you, only to snatch it back when your fingers grabbed for it. Riri rested her chin on the back of the desk chair, smiling softly to herself at each of your failed attempts to capture the cash. God, she was annoying.

You frowned and on the seventh try, you’d finally had enough. “Just keep the damn money Riri.”

“Slow ass. Here.” She awarded it to you: palm up and bill sitting still inside it. You could seize hold of it, but how were you to know this wasn't another trick? You squinted, and she smirked daringly. It was sick, the way she gained pleasure from taunting you. You reached for the money anyway, and Riri didn't snatch it back. Instead, she captured your hand, lacing your fingers together. Your eyes instantly shot to hers with a low gasp, only to find she was already watching you.

Riri held onto your hand for what felt like forever, and you let her. She kept those deep browns on you, picking apart your reaction to her touch with a soft grin. Your own eyes were locked on the way she clasped your fingers. Something about the stark contrast of your long lavender acrylics, entwined with her short silver nails entranced you. The bill was still pressed between your palms, but its feel was lost on you. You just felt her: the heat of her palm, the tight of her grip.

She eventually let you go, she let you take the money too, and not once did she speak a word. But there was reluctance in her release, just like there was the night before. And there was a stutter in your chest. Your body blazed under continued inspection. How the hell did she do that? Why?

A ding sounded from her desk making the pair of you jump. She regarded you quickly before scooting over to check her messages. You needed to exhale; you were becoming lightheaded from all the gasping you’d been doing.

Anxious eyes panned around the room, and a picture in a bizarre looking frame on her nightstand stuck out to you. You ran your fingertips along it, it was crafted with care, you could tell. Cute. The picture residing within it was of a tall dark skinned man and two little girls with pigtails. He embraced them both as they stuck their tongues out. You smiled at the image, knowing immediately who one of the girls had to be. “Oh, is this you? Baby Ri–”

“What the fuck, don't touch that! I told you to leave my shit alone!” Riri flew to your side, yanking the frame from your hands. A hurricane of emotions flooded through her, its waves were rapid, and it worked hard to drown the Riri you knew from moments ago. This unforeseen monsoon altered her entire demeanor before your very eyes. Her shoulders knotted, she tightened her jaw, and there was lightning in her irises.

The picture was obviously important, and this reaction shouldn't be one that surprised you. You’d gotten comfortable, a foolish move. Your own guard was let down, and you’d assume Riri was doing the same. This assumption was an inaccurate one.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to–” Your outstretched arm was to be an olive branch, but her body jerked away from you, and your hand collided with the frame instead. You watched it plunge to the floor. You waited for the clatter, for the sound of glass breaking. The shattering of shards pierced your ears and you winced, letting your eyes flutter shut.

Terror stirred inside you as you honed in on the tatters of the picture frame. Meeting Riri’s gaze right now struck real fear into you. You could already feel her rage, taste her fury.

“Get out.” She whispered it. Two words made every hair on your body stand tall and you shivered under their hiss.

You found her face for a few seconds, and you gaped at her. Words had forsaken you once more, and you couldn't blame them. “Riri, I–”

“Get the fuck out of my dorm.” She dragged her hands down her face in attempts to wipe away some of her exasperation. “Why the fuck are you still here? I said get the fuck out!”

Riri’s voice cracked at the end of the sentence, stretching your guilt, widening it until it encompassed you and stiffened your entire being. But you obeyed her demand nonetheless, and you began gathering your things in the silent room. Even sound knew to make itself scarce in order to avoid Riri’s wrath. Her eyes were glued to the shards on her floor, and she barely moved.

You mumbled nervously under your breath as you repacked your bag, “I told Hakeem coming here was a bad idea, fuck!”

“Hakeem told you to do what?” The deepness there in her tone was enough to immerse you in the abyss that was now the space you shared with Riri. Or rather her space that she shared with you, and it put a stop to your movements.

“What?” You stared hesitantly at her and she narrowed her eyes.

“Did Hakeem tell you to come check on me? Is that the whole reason you showed up here to fucking bother me and break my shit like a dummy?” Venomous, each word intended to puncture and kill. “You know what, ion care, don't answer that. I'm sure your answer will just piss me off even more. Just fucking go.”

Your inability to leave well enough alone would be your demise one day. You nodded, and headed for the door. “I really am sor–”

Riri slammed the door angrily in your face, and you sighed. You’d deluded yourself into believing a breakthrough was made tonight, that you’d scratched the surface on some of her walls. You sought her friendship, but after tonight, there was no doubt she'd built new barriers. Fences that shot up to the skies. Walls that were impenetrable. And remain that way they would, for their sole purpose was to keep you out.

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