#in a way i feel empty but simultaneously very full

[airenyah]

I DID IT I WATCHED IT I DON'T KNOW HOW I FEEL AT THIS POINT

[theorphicangel]

𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐰 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary: miguel being whipped for his s/o after sex :)

tags: suggestive, 18+, aftercare, soft Miguel, fluffy

panting, you lay your head back on the pillow, thighs still shaking as you come down from your high.

a whimper leaves your throat once you feel Miguel pull out, leaving behind a sore feeling of emptiness within you.

He’s quick to clean you up. tissues on the bedside table as well as two bottles of water. The way you like them, fresh and cold. his chest rises and falls heavily as sweat forms at his brow. strays of his coffee-brown locks sticking to his forehead.

He gently wipes at your inner thigh. your hand is still positioned on his shoulder, feeling his muscles flex with every move he makes.

Miguel leaves a tender kiss on your arm. “you did so good for me, mi amor.”He hands you a bottle, removing the cap before giving it to you.

you take a few small sips before gesturing the bottle back to him. He stares, unimpressed.

“a little more.”

you obey, reluctantly, sipping until the bottle is less than half full. Miguel takes your bottle and fastens the cap. And before you know it, he’s laying on your chest underneath the covers with you.

“ugh, you’re so heavy.” your hand immediately reaches for his hair, an automatic habit.

“mhm, you tired me out tonight.”

you fake a gasp, fingers running softly through his hair. “I tired out the miguel o’hara?”

you feel his chest vibrate as he chuckles softly. “don’t tell anyone, it could ruin my reputation.”

“cross my heart and swear to die.” you say as you mark an x on your chest.

the two of you bask in a comfortable silence, a natural hum heard in the room. you continue to play with his hair, fingertips lost in his locks before you notice a pair of eyes staring.

“what?” you whisper.

Miguel continues to stare at you, unresponsive. letting silence become his answer for a few moments before speaking.

“you’re glowing, nena.”

“Am I?” you chuckle softly, slightly shy at his eyes glued onto your face. you always caught him looking at you like that, like you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. it didn’t matter if you had just woken up or returned from work after a busy and stressful day, or if you had walked out in a simple tee and jeans.

he alwayed seemed to look at you with a starstruck look in his eyes.

And that is the very look he had now.

A smile slips onto his lips, his voice low. “Carajo, eres tan guapa.” [fuck, you’re so beautiful]

you scoff, rolling your eyes.

“I’m serious, nena.” and his tone exemplifies that too. his eyes search all over your face. “¿Cómo tuve tanta suerte?” [how was I so lucky?]

“dunno’,” your hand trails down to his cheek, caressing his skin. he’s glowing too, you think. “How did I get lucky with you?”

“maybe it was fate.” he whispers, his eyes falling to your lips.

“maybe it was.” Miguel murmurs, inching closer to you. Simultaneously, you pull him towards you, your hand still on his cheek.

The moment your lips meet, a spark is lighted within you again. you can tell he’s being gentle, making sure not to place his body weight entirely on you.

when you finally part, a rush of adrenaline runs through your body once more. a heat emerging between your thighs for an nth time.

“you think you still got enough energy for one more round, o’hara?”

“always for you, my love.”

reblogs are much appreciated!

[teymars]

NSFW hc’s for the Sully men bc I am bored:

MDNI

General:

• They are each EXTREMELY fertile, pregnancy is almost inescapable when you’re with one of these boys.

• On top of being very fertile, they enjoy breeding their women more than anything, so cock-warming is a nonnegotiable.

• They have great stamina, allowing them to go round after round, ensuring they “fuck you properly”.

• They aren’t particularly vocal, (unless overstimulated) but the growling, grunting and whimpering in your ear never ceases.

• Major pleasure doms fs

• Think with their dicks more than anything (specifically Jake and Lo’ak)

• They enjoy scenting and marking their women in every way possible, even if it’s just leaving you full of leaking cum, to fend off other interested men.

Jake:

• He will happily be late to any of his duties if it means an opportunity to fuck you full.

• Is especially sensitive about you touching his jewels, the feeling of them swelling within your small grasp always has him keening.

• Won’t admit it aloud but he’s totally came untouched to the thought of you in lingerie, giving him a lap-dance.

• Hates when you hide your noises from him, he doesn’t give two shits if somebody is standing 5ft away, let them know you’re his.

• Likes to fuck around by grinding against you in public, not so subtly. He has no regrets when you’re all needy and wet for him by the evening.

• Enjoys littering your inner thighs with deep-purple marks, secretly hoping they are noticeable to other people later on.

• Uses his old camera to create some fun videos with you, mainly so he can fuck into his own fist whilst you’re busy.

• Craves nights where you beg him to be rough, sure he enjoys making slow tender love to you, but being able to use you as he pleases always excites.

Neteyam:

• Is a huge family guy, consistently keeping you bred and arguing that his heart will never be full enough of you and your ever-growing family.

• Prefers your muffled moans and gasps, he’d rather be the only man in the universe to hear such sounds from you, he can prove you are all his in so many other ways after all.

• He is always in favour of doggy-style. He’d never pass up the chance to mount and rut into you with all the energy he has. Simultaneously pushing your head into the cushions of your shared bed.

• He will lean over your shoulder and whisper the filthiest nothings, accompanied by licking your hot pulse-point, hoping to encourage copious amounts of slick from you to aid in his relentless pounding.

• Absolutely has a dick and tongue piercing. Though he may be a bit ashamed by his past foolishness, he soon figures the endless orgasms they produce from you are quite worth it.

• If he isn’t thinking tactically or about what his next meal will be (probably you), he’s planning all the positions he will put you in throughout the night.

• Gets especially needy in the mornings, often waking you up with the prodding of his swollen cock-head, at your already soaked entrance.

• Is especially sensitive on his tip, the way your walls squeeze and slide over it have him near cumming on the spot each time. When it pushes against the textures of your cervix though, he dives over the edge practically every time. (Good thing he’s got that endless stamina)

Bonus: • Will lazily thrust into you throughout the early morning, coaxing both your orgasms slowly before thrusting forward abruptly and emptying every last drop into your aching cunt, remaining there until he is 110% certain you’ll be giving him another child to cherish.

Lo’ak:

• Loves to sit and watch you fuck yourself with your fingers all evening, smirking consistently because he KNOWS his cock has ruined you for anything & anyone else.

• Will comfortably have a conversation with any family member over the comm devices, while fully sheathed inside your warmth.

• Will attempt to breed you anywhere, anytime regardless of who is around. That man has his priorities set fs.

• Fucking creams himself when you openly submit to him, wether it be through a suggestive “yes sir” or spreading yourself open upon your shared bed, ready for him.

• Bites onto your shoulder to muffle his increasing moans when your soft pussy becomes too much for him. The feeling of his cock’s ridges hooking into your wet walls only intensifying this.

• Most sensitive at his slit, the second you tease your delicate fingers or hot tongue along it, he is gone. His hips will be jolting as he fights to hold back an orgasm, succumbing to the tantalising feeling of your pinkie-finger pushing into his tiny slit, teasing him.

• Secretly wants nipple piercings but would never express that openly, he fears what will become of him the day you realise how stimulated his tits can get. Sticks to ear piercings instead and is yet to grasp how Neteyam dealt with the pain of piercing his own cock.

• Also unlike Neteyam, he is not as fussed about ensuring his bloodline carries on through the next 20 generations, BUT he does take pride in having a family with you and will never refuse breeding you so long as you’ll let him.

And that’s all, feel free to speak on any of your own hc’s!! 🩵

[builtbybrokenbells]

Little Miss Sunshine | JTK

Amidst a night of high emotion, one single confession turns your whole world upside down, making you realize that you had a certain someone misunderstood all along.

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word count: 26k (oops)

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f&m receiving), (sort of) face fucking, cum play, rough sex, also sweet sex, katoptronophilia (mirror sex), mentions/phrases pertaining to free use kink, dom/sub, possessiveness, praise, degradation, name calling, impact play, biting, sir kink, mentions of masturbation (f&m), multiple orgasm (m&f), simultaneous orgasm, overstimulation, begging, lots of dirty talk, lots of making out, dry humping, angst, unrequited feelings, feelings of not being good enough/rejection, overthinking, emotional talks, asshole Jake, drunk confessions, arguing, awkward small talk/conversations, fighting, non-sexual name calling, fluff, drinking, smoking, swearing, crying, sorry if i miss any!

heard you guys wanted some grumpy x sunshine love (this is also kind of bordering enemies to lovers) 🤔 also, this picture is EXACTLY what I picture Jake as in this fic. I was gonna wait to post but I was too excited to work on some other stuff coming very soon 😉. I hope you guys enjoy! As always, be kind and don’t mind any grammar mistakes 🤍 (very lightly edited)

“And then I said to him, try that shit around here, and you’ll see how it works out for you.” The tall blonde man spoke, his tone grating and growing more annoying by the second. He had an irritating smile on his lips as he continued trying his best to impress you with another, mind-numbing story.

“Right,” you nodded, swirling your straw around your drink, trying to sound more interested than you actually were. As you tried to think of something to say, you sucked a sharp breath in through your teeth, letting your eyes dart around the room in search of a familiar face. “I’m sure he kept to himself after that.” You finally replied, trying to up the ante and lessen the impact of your monotone response.

“Yeah, I love messing with the new guys at work. Always keeps them on their toes.” He said, taking a sip of his beer as he looked over your face. As he lowered the bottle from his lips, he seemed to lean even closer than he already was, making you force yourself backwards.

You had no idea how you found yourself in the situation, stuck in conversation with a mediocre man about his mediocre job (which you still weren’t quite sure what it even was) and desperate to find a quick way out. You had come to the stupid party for one reason, and so far, you hadn’t seen him once, despite it being hosted at his own house. As you scanned the crowd for the millionth time, you found yourself growing more impatient than you already were. Your foot tapped against the ground as you checked your watch, wondering if you were already in too deep or if you could slide out the front door without being noticed.

Then, a wave of relief washed over you as you caught sight of a familiar head of brown hair. You threw back the last of your drink, placing the empty cup on the table as you scrambled to refill it with the premixed bottle you brought in your bag. You fumbled with the cap you’d screwed on too tight while listening to the man across from you ramble about an office staff party he’d attended last week, eventually prying it from the top of the juice jug after a moment's struggle. You tipped it forward, filling the solo cup and snatching it off the table after you shoved the jug back in your bag.

You had never seen your best friend's house so full; people were crowding the hallways, nearly standing on top of each other as they tried to force their way into the rooms overflowing with bodies. The music was astonishingly loud, and you definitely weren’t drunk enough to enjoy it yet. Worse than that, you barely recognized a single face in the crowd, and you were desperate to find someone you knew.

“Anyway, it was nice getting to know you, Johnny. I see Sam over there, so I better go say hi.” You forced a blinding smile, giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder as you tried to map out the best way around him.

“J-Johnny?” He asked, confusion written all over his face. “My name is Jimmy.” He corrected, his ego bruised at your lack of interest in him.

“Oh, shit.” You swallowed back an awkward laugh, biting down on the inside of your lip as you shuffled to the side. “Jimmy, Johnny… same thing, really. See you around?” You offered, knowing there was no way you would ever allow yourself to be alone with him again, unless you spent days sleepless and were desperate to find something that would lull your mind and force your eyes shut.

You didn’t wait for a response, instead pushing through the crowd as quickly as possible so you didn’t lose sight of your target. With your drink clenched tightly to your chest, you fought your way through the swarm of bodies that seemed keen on blocking the doorway. You extended your arm outward, your fingers brushing over the thin material of Sam’s long sleeved shirt as you grabbed onto his shoulder. His head whipped around, wondering who was touching him and why they were in such a panic to catch his attention. When his eyes landed on you, a blinding smile lit up his face.

“Hey, I was looking for you! Didn’t think you’d make it, Knockout.” He stopped in his tracks, completely changing course and turning towards you. He took a step in your direction, extending his arms outwards and engulfing you in a hug. You breathed a sigh of relief, letting the scent of his familiar cologne wrap you in an embrace warmer than the one his arms provided.

“I’m the guest of honor, ‘course I made it.” You rolled your eyes, pulling away from him slightly. “And I told you to stop calling me that.”

“You’re always the guest of honor at my house.” He grinned, letting his hand linger over your back as he looked over your face. You noticed right off the bat that he reeked of alcohol. His eyes were glazed over, soft and dark as his expression spoke loudly of all you needed to know. He was hammered, and you were very late to the party. “And I think knockout is fitting. A ten who will knock me on my ass if I say the wrong thing.”

“I’d like to be equated to more than a ‘ten’ with a bad temper.” You laughed, slouching down slightly as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

“I wouldn’t call it a bad temper… more or less a ‘fuck around and find out’ type of person.” He explained further, pulling you tightly into his side as he began to weave through the crowd.

“Yeah, I guess that fits.” You hummed an agreement, happy that you were safely by his side so you no longer had to wander aimlessly and get caught in conversation with people you didn’t know.

“It’s way more crowded than I thought it would be.” Sam noted, talking loud enough so you could hear him over the boom of voices and music.

“Yeah, I certainly wasn’t expecting this.” You laughed, honest about your feelings on the matter. When he invited you, he failed to mention that he invited the entire city of Nashville to the party alongside you.

“Yeah, guess I overestimated the size of the place.” He chuckled. “We’re hanging out downstairs, less crowded and a bit more comfortable.” He said, leading you around the corner to the stairwell. There were a few people standing in the way of the stairs, but they dispersed pretty quickly when they realized the two of you were trying to make your way through.

Sam was your best friend, and had been for years. You met not long after he moved to the city, when you were still in college and keen to the party lifestyle. Through mutual friends, you found yourself sitting in front of him at an album release party for a band that no longer existed, sharing your sentiments about the mediocre music and your love of tequila. From there, the two of you formed a fast friendship, finding you had more in common than a knack for drinking and appreciation for music. You weren’t expecting such a strong relationship to come from a drunken night orchestrated by friends who couldn’t have cared less about you, but you were incredibly grateful that you decided to go.

Since then, you and Sam did nearly everything together when he wasn’t gone on tour. Once you graduated, you found that you lost contact with most people from your university days, but it never seemed to bother you, because Sam was always around to do that, instead. When you were holed up in your house, working from your laptop and too busy to go anywhere, Sam sat beside you, commenting on anything and everything that came to mind. You guys frequented the bars around town, and got lunch when your schedules permitted. Oftentimes, you found yourself dozing off on his couch after a movie night with no intent of staying the night and waking up the next morning with a blanket over you and a pillow under your head.

He was the best friend you’d ever had, and you were thankful for his love every single day. You loved him so much that you couldn’t even refuse his invitations to parties where you knew nobody but him and his brothers, and most times you were glad you went, just so you had another memory to share with him. That night was no different; he was throwing a party just for the sake of it, inviting friends he’d made in the industry and drinking for the sake of being drunk. When he asked you to come, you gave a hesitant reply, knowing that you were bound to be awkwardly standing amongst a swarm of strangers. Within a few days, he’d convinced you it was alright, and eventually you gave in.

That afternoon, you spent an extra amount of time making yourself look nice. You went out the day before and got your hair touched up, and you even bought a new dress. You were feeling a little down, finding yourself in quite the romantic draught that worsened your loneliness as time went on. When you expressed such feelings to Sam, he seemed to make it a point to set you up with some of his company and promised that tonight would end the embarrassingly long bout of involuntary abstinence. Although you were nervous about his choice of company for you, you opened yourself up to the idea, knowing that you wouldn’t have much luck on your own.

It wasn’t that you were deliberately choosing to abstain from dating, but you were having a particularly hard time finding anyone who met your standards and more importantly, your needs. You were growing sick and tired of modern dating, and despised dating apps and all that came along with them. You weren’t in search of a hookup, and you weren’t looking for marriage tomorrow. You wanted someone who you could have fun with, to get to know without it being overwhelming and too much too fast. You wanted someone suitable for your mid-twenties; exciting, compatible, and loyal. Unfortunately, that seemed to be quite hard to come by.

You knew you had a lot to offer. You were kind, funny, and sometimes too nice for your own good. At the same time, you didn’t put up with any bullshit, which made it incredibly hard to open yourself up to someone. You could easily tell when someone only wanted sex, and people like Johnny (or Jimmy; whatever the hell his name was) made it abundantly clear. His lack of self-awareness and his commitment to getting closer to you despite there being no invitation to do so turned you off of him from the minute he began to speak.

On the other hand, because of your guard being up, oftentimes you read a little too much into the situation and ruined things before they could even begin. You were at an impasse, and such a large one that you enlisted Sam’s help to find you a suitor. You were an overly nice person who’d been burned too many times, and you were (as some would say) picky. You barely trusted his judgment, but you figured that you would at least try and open yourself up to his ideas, because you certainly weren’t getting anywhere by yourself.

“You know, I figured that tonight might be a good night for you and Jake to get to know each other.” Sam stated, nearing the bottom of the stairs.

“Jake?” You asked, confused as you followed behind him. You pulled down the skirt of your tight fitting dress, carefully stepping down on the cool wooden floor as you passed the bottom step. “Like, your brother who’s barely given me any inclination that he knows I exist?” You asked, bewildered that Sam would even suggest that. “And when he does, he looks like he’d rather be with anyone else rather than with me?”

“Oh, come on. That’s not true.” Sam chuckled, turning back to face you now that you were on solid ground. The basement was much less crowded than the upstairs, just like Sam had told you. It was nice, allowing you to actually sort out your thoughts before your head was pulled into another direction.

“It is so!” You laughed, taking his response with a grain of salt. You didn’t have complete certainty that Jake felt that way about you, but he definitely didn’t make it a point to try and be friendly. “I get along so well with Josh and Danny, and then there’s him. He never talks to me, and he basically ignores me when I speak first. When he does answer, it’s like, one or two words, and never any kind of emotion. I don’t think he likes me, and that’s fine, but I definitely don’t think we should ‘get to know each other’.”

“The other day you guys talked about the weather!” Sam argued his point, only making you roll your eyes.

“Yeah, the weather, Sam. You know, like the most basic of small talk that exists?”

“He seemed really passionate about the sun.” Sam shrugged, reaching out and placing a hand on your back. “Just give it a shot. You never know, right?”

“Sam, if that’s who you’re trying to set me up with, you’ve officially gone insane.” You muttered, letting him guide you towards the group of people huddled by his large arrangement instruments.

“Not insane, and I mean it, Y/N. I think you guys would really get along if you got past the weather. It’s not that you don’t like each other, you’ve just never tried that hard, and neither has he.”

“Yeah, because I’m pretty sure he hates me!” You whisper-shouted, nearing the chattering crowd.

“That’s a strong word,” Sam said, clearly trying to put an end to the argument. “Besides, I already asked him to talk to you tonight, so I guess there’s no real way out of it.” He shrugged, a sly smile forming on his lips as he began to walk away from you.

“Sam!” You exploded, reaching forward and grabbing his hand to hold him in place. “Why would you do that? Now he’s going to feel pressured into talking to me!”

“Listen, Y/N.” he sighed, his lips still holding a ghost of a smile. “Jake won’t feel pressured into talking to you. If he really doesn’t want to, he won’t. Jake does not hate you, and Jake knows you exist. He’s just not the most outgoing. Once he’s out of his shell, I promise you’ll understand what I mean.” You could tell that Sam was genuine in his response, much different to the lighthearted jokes that he spewed prior. You didn’t want to be the bad guy and tell him that you thought his brother was an asshole, so instead you shifted uncomfortably under his strong gaze and gave a single nod of your head.

If Sam wanted you to try so bad, you would, but only because Sam was your best friend.

In truth, it wasn’t like you never thought of Jake in that way. In fact, you thought about it more often than you cared to admit, but you would have been caught dead before confessing it aloud. Most of the fantasies of Jake were contained within your bedroom walls, in the late hours of the night and earliest hours of the morning, and it had little to do with conversing with him and certainly not anything romantic.

Jake was attractive, and that was undeniable; he drew attention from the crowd the minute he walked in the room, and eyes never strayed from him until the moment he walked out. His long hair and his beautiful brown eyes made for a deadly combination, and the slight rasp to his tone when he spoke low and slow sent a rush of emotion straight to the pit of your stomach. The pinkness of his lips, especially when they glistened after his tongue ran over the bottom one, was delicious, and you were all but ignorant to that. He did not talk often, not nearly as much as his company, but when he did, it was always worth listening to, whether it was a joke or something insightful.

Jake's physical appearance had little to do with your apprehensions. If anything, it made you more willing to try out what Sam was asking of you. Although he’d never been outright mean to you, Jake had solidified his impression in your mind over the years; curt, dry, and a little judgemental. His micro expressions that seemed to go unnoticed by everyone else spoke louder than words to you, and he never seemed like he wanted to interact with you at all. He sat on the opposite side of the room from you, avoided your group-pointed topics and questions, avoided being alone with you at all costs, and got out of every one on one conversation with you as fast as he could.

Oftentimes you felt like he was watching you, studying you so he could find something he didn’t like, so then he could be crude and unapologetic about it. His eyes always seemed to land on you as the nights dragged on, and the drunker he got, the more often he stared, but he never spoke. If he wasn’t so attractive, his actions may have been more off putting than curious to you, but even if you felt like he hated you, you definitely didn’t mind his attention being on you.

He was more gruff than Sam and Josh combined, and his resting expression was not the most inviting. He joked with his brothers, but not you directly. Although, whenever he said something to gain a laugh, his eyes always flickered to you, as if he was looking to see if you thought he was funny, too. He was a mystery, but not one you wanted to solve. Every interaction with him led you to believe he was not a fan of you, and every time you tried to analyze it, you only ever found yourself believing it ran even deeper than that.

Still, he was fucking hot, and you hated yourself for being so attracted to someone who couldn’t care less about you.

You followed behind Sam, your cheeks red as you bargained with your embarrassment over the situation. What did Sam actually say to Jake? Was it as innocent as he framed it, or did it go beyond the minimal information he gave you? You weren’t sure you wanted to know, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to speak to Jake at all. In your years of friendship with Sam and the hundreds of times you had been around him, he had never been nice, and you were fairly certain he wouldn’t start now.

You wanted to believe Sam’s explanation of Jake, that he was just a tough nut to crack and you had never been fully committed to knowing him, but it just didn’t seem to check out. You were sure by now, Jake would have shown some idea that he didn’t mind you, or at least that he didn’t hate you, but there was nothing.

Well, except for one small little thing, but it was so long ago that you were sure he’d long forgotten about it.

“Woah, sorry!” Jake exclaimed as the door swung itself open. He took a step back, recoiling from the scene as if he’d just walked in on something explicit and was trying to avoid the awkwardness.

“No, it’s okay.” You muttered, closing your eyes and taking in a deep breath. This interaction was the last thing you wanted to experience in such a state, and you could only look forward to his standoffish nature worsening your already solemn state.

You had changed from your party clothes, the nice new jeans and shirt your sister had bought you for your birthday, which was the whole reason Sam threw you the damn party in the first place. You were in shorts and a t-shirt that hung just above your knees, your face tired and tear-stained as you made a quick move to wipe the dampness from your cheeks. “S’all good, Jake. You can have the bathroom.” You spoke again, a little clearer. The rasp of sadness in your tone was impossible to ignore, and even in his drunken state, he seemed to pick up on it.

You hated your birthday, and you hated that Sam insisted on throwing you a party for it. You wanted to leave, to go home after seeing everyone having such a great time while you were so miserable, but you were too drunk to drive and you would have felt terrible for abandoning Sam when he’d worked so hard to plan this all for you. The gathering was small, filled with people you loved dearly, and drinks were plentiful. Sam went all out with food, decorations, and dessert. You’d never had such an extravagant cake in your life, and you owed him everything for caring about you so much. You were so ashamed of your misery that you felt the need to hide in the bathroom while you cried, just so you didn’t hurt his feelings.

You weren’t sad because of the party, or even because of your birthday in itself. You were upset about the fact that no matter how hard you tried to have fun, something always happened that seemed to ruin the whole day, and this time was no different.

“You okay, Y/N?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowing together as he tried to read the situation. You barely looked up at him, feeling another wave of tears well in your eyes. He smelled so distinctly of whiskey, and his normal tough exterior slackened into something you could almost relate to relaxed.

“Yeah, fine.” You nodded, taking a step towards the doorway and expecting him to recoil when you neared him.

“Clearly not, sweetheart.” The pet name struck you as odd, the confusion growing even worse as he stepped in front of you to stop your attempt at escaping. “You’re crying, up here all alone on your birthday. Talk to me.” You finally looked up to meet his face, noticing your body flood with an unfamiliar feeling. There was a type of care in his face that you had never seen from him before, and it made your entire body raise with goosebumps.

“I… I’m alright, I guess.” You said, trying to find a way around confessing your sorrows to him.

“Can I come in?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, sure.” You breathed, nodding and stepping backwards out of his way. Once he was inside the room, he closed the door quietly, leaning against it as he casted his gaze back in your direction. Now that you were locked in a room with him, the smell of alcohol became all the more apparent, and it seemed to be mixed with a sweet scent of an unfamiliar cologne.

“What’s going on?” He asked, standing stagnant by the door as if he was fearful of coming any closer.

“It’s a long story, but I guess it doesn’t really matter. It’s over now.” You shrugged, raising your hand to your face to wipe your face clean of the sadness.

“Is it that guy you were with last time you were here?” He asked, hitting the nail straight on the head without even trying.

“Uh, yeah.” You nodded, surprised he even cared to notice you had company the last time you were around him. Jake had never been overly concerned with your presence, and you barely expected him to care enough to ask if you were alright. “Got in a fight before I came. Said he didn’t have time to come to my ‘stupid birthday party’ with my ‘stupid friends’.” You air quoted the phrases he used, sickened that you even let yourself spend time with someone who thought so little about the people you loved so dearly. “But he wasn’t too busy to party without me, and certainly didn’t mind locking lips with some other girl at the bar.” You explained, remembering the painful picture one of his friends sent through to you. You appreciated the fact that someone was willing to tell you about it, but it didn’t seem to make it hurt any less.

His lips pressed together tightly, the corners turned down into a frown as he digested the information you threw his way. For a second, he seemed as though he wanted to speak, but not long after that he silenced himself before he could get the words out. He swallowed thickly, toying with the ring on his middle finger as he tried his best to think of a response. Eventually, he took a deep breath and spoke words you never expected to hear from him.

“You are far too special to be caught up on someone like that, Y/N.” His tone was strong, leaving no room for doubt that he meant it. “I know it hurts right now, but you have to know that.”

“Thank you, Jake.” You said, your indifference for him melting away momentarily.

“Is it alright if I hug you?” He asked, carefully scanning your face. “Seems like you need it.”

“O-oh,” you breathed, shocked at his question. “Yeah, s’pose I do.” You let out a nervous chuckle. At that, all hesitation left his body and he stepped towards you. Carefully, he pulled you into his arms, his hold firm and the warmth of his body soothing. You let your head rest on his shoulder, trying to ignore the strangeness of the moment and enjoy the comfort. With your face buried in his button-up shirt, you finally had the chance to breathe in the cologne you had only previously caught a faint hint of. It was deep, woodsy and ambery, and it was unfortunately one of the most pleasant things you’d ever experienced.

You could feel his heartbeat, fast and strong as he held you close to him. One hand rested on the back of your head, an extra touch of warmth within his already strange actions. You had never been so close to Jake before, and for some strange reason, you never wanted to let go of him. From the minute he touched you, things seemed okay again, like nothing in the whole world could hurt you so long as he was right beside you.

Just when you felt yourself slipping out of the state of sadness, he pulled away. You found yourself mourning the loss of his touch, sad for a whole new reason as his body parted from yours. He didn’t completely abandon you, though. He let one hand rest on your arm as he used his other to wipe your tears away from your cheeks. With a soft smile, he spoke again.

“Don’t waste your tears on him, sweetheart. When it starts to hurt a little less, you should thank him for it, ‘cause it means someone as great as you won’t be stuck with someone like him.” He paused, ensuring you understood him before he continued. “Now, put a smile on that pretty face and come back downstairs. It’s your day, your friends are down there, and we want you to have a good night. Don’t let him win.”

You thought that maybe after such a sweet moment shared between the two of you, the dynamic might change, that he would warm up to you and a friendship would blossom. Thinking back on your hopefulness, you wanted to laugh in your own face. If anything, after the bathroom escapade, he grew even more distant. He stopped looking at you as often, avoiding your eyes when you looked his way and refusing to even let a chuckle slip when you spewed a joke. His already curt responses grew even shorter, and even less friendly. All of the affection he shared with you disappeared, and he acted as if it never happened at all.

You were ridiculous for expecting change, but disappointed still when you understood that he probably didn’t remember the interaction between you. He was drunk, and so were you, and it didn’t mean anything.

Still, no matter how hard you tried to believe it, it still fucking sucked.

You did everything in your power to get that side of him to surface again, but it only seemed to worsen his withdrawl. The nicer you were to him, the more he pulled away. So, eventually you stopped completely. You stopped going out of your way to build a relationship with him, because it was abundantly clear he wasn’t interested in it.

Funny thing is, when you started pulling away, he began to try.

A few weeks after you stopped talking, he went out of his way to ask you how you were. He lingered in rooms after everyone left, trying to remain inconspicuous as he waited for you to speak to him. His eyes landed on you more often than not, watching you carefully as you spoke to everyone else, waiting to see if you would laugh at his jokes. It was as if he missed you talking to him, even if he was the reason you distanced yourself in the first place.

He was so confusing, and you knew it was best to stay out of it. Even if you did think he was ridiculously attractive, he clearly had no clue how to express himself or any emotion whatsoever. The only thing you regularly saw from him was undesirable personality traits, indifference and annoyance most often, and anger at other times. You knew it wasn’t good for you, that you should stay away because you couldn’t get involved with someone so cold, and you did the best you could. Still, you would be the first to volunteer to kiss that damned scowl off his face, and happy to let him take his anger out on you.

The fact that Sam ever thought the two of you would work was absolutely blasphemous, but if Sam wanted you to try, you would at least give it another shot. Even if it was half-assed, you could still say you gave it your all, and he’d probably believe you.

Sam took one of the two available seats on the couches, far away from you and next to Josh. You felt a stab of pain in your chest as you realized he did so for a specific reason. The only seat left in the room was next to Jake, and as you began to approach, you feared he might get up and walk away as soon as your ass touched the cushion. Keeping your body rigid, you stepped over Danny’s long legs, extended outwards as he leaned back in the couch. You carefully stood between the two, letting the strap of your bag fall from your shoulder and it landed in front of you on the floor. As you sat down, you tucked the bag neatly behind your legs and against the frame of the couch. You let out a small breath of relief, noticing Jake didn’t change his stature at all as you took a seat.

‘Step one: complete.’ You thought to yourself, sipping at your drink to calm your nerves.

How ridiculous it seemed to consider sitting next to Jake a victory. The irony only grew as you remembered that Sam thought the two of you would make a good couple.

Jake had an acoustic guitar sat in his lap, tentatively plucking at the strings as he sat on the very edge of the cushion. You couldn’t help but stare, finding his face devoid of any negative emotion almost alluring. He was so pretty when he focused, the way his hair hung in his face and his eyebrows furrowed together in concentration. You strained to hear the light sounds coming from the strings, trying your best to ignore the booming music upstairs in hopes to recognize the tune he was playing. You watched as the tips of his fingers danced over the fretboard, delicate and calculated in every move they made.

Then, the soft hum stopped and his finger stretched across the fretboard to stop any lingering resonance. Your eyes flickered from his hand to his face, seeing that he was already looking at you. Your cheeks burned red as you understood he noticed your staring, and you swallowed back an awkward laugh.

“Hey, Jake.” You forced the greeting through your teeth, flashing a smile in his direction in hopes that the sweetness would deter his usual grumpiness with you.

“Hi.” He responded, his eyes trailing down to the solo cup in your hand. His greeting was short, but you counted it as a victory. Some nights, he never bothered to reciprocate at all, shooting you a pained look instead. The two of you sat in silence for a moment, neither of you knowing what to do or what to say. It was uncomfortable, but you forced the negative thoughts from your head and tried your best to think of a conversation starter. When it was clear he would not be the one to initiate, you spoke again.

“What song was that?”

“Who’ll Stop The Rain.” He replied, his stony expression remaining strong as he looked in your direction.

“CCR,” you nodded, embarrassed you couldn’t pick out the tune from memory. “My dad was a big fan of John Fogerty. Used to put us to sleep with the recordings from Royal Albert Hall.”

“Yeah, pretty good stuff.” Jake nodded, slow and stiff as if he would rather be anywhere other than with you. You took in a long breath through your nose, hoping that you could ease the painful tension between the two of you, but knowing it wouldn’t never happen unless he was willing to try, too.

“Yeah, absolutely.” You nodded too, taking a long sip from your cup.

“What’s your favourite song from them?” He asked, the words almost sounding strained as he asked the question. You fought back an eye roll, thinking it was absolutely ridiculous that he was troubled just to speak to you.

“Green River.” You answered, trying to be more enthusiastic than he was. You were happy he asked the question at all, considering it was probably the first thing he’d ever asked in attempt to get to know you, but his reluctance still stung.

“I like that one, too.” He said, his tone gruff but more friendly than it had ever been (save for the off night in the bathroom), even if the classification was a stretch. Then, he turned his head back towards the guitar, cutting the conversation short. You couldn’t help but feel a dissatisfaction with his actions, wondering why he couldn’t even pretend to enjoy a conversation with you, but you didn’t let it linger for too long.

You let out a sigh, turning your head to the other side of you, seeing Daniel’s smiling face. It was refreshing, and it was a relief to see his expression did not fade as soon as he looked your way. His arm was slung over the back of the couch behind you, his ankles crossed and a beer bottle clutched tightly in his hand. You figured he was an easier target, and a much more enjoyable way to spend your time.

“Hello, Daniel.” You gave him a warm smile as you spoke.

“Was wondering when you’d get here, K.O.” He said, flashing you a toothy smile to match your own.

“What did I tell you guys about calling me that!” You scolded, your tone light and your eyes shining with joy to tell him you didn’t really care all that much.

“If the shoe fits.” He shrugged, chuckling as he took a sip from his bottle. “What have you been up to? Feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“I was away for a little while for work, actually.” You said, knowing you couldn’t get too much into it.

“You were away? That’s never good to hear.” He said, a slight grimace on his face. He was right; in social work, time spent away from your office usually meant something bad.

“Yeah, but it wasn’t anything major. They have a shortage of people a few towns over, so I volunteered to fill in for a little while until they could hire someone. I handled a few cases, but it was mostly just to do some paperwork so they didn’t get overwhelmed. I got back a few days ago.”

“You’re a saint for doing a job like that, you know.” He said, his words genuine and prompting a smile on your lips.

“It’s not the easiest job, but I like it.” You explained. “Someone has to stick up for the kids, you know? If their own parents aren’t doing it… then someone has to.”

You could not see it, but Jake’s head was turned as he sat behind you, his ear facing you so he could hear the words you were saying.

“You must be pretty good at it, too. I remember when Sam and I stopped by your office, it was plastered with drawings and colouring pages. Do you keep everything they give to you?”

“Yeah, I do.” You looked down at your hands as a sheepish smile crossed your face. “They always get so excited when they see it up on the walls, so it makes it worth it. Besides, brightens up my day when I see it, too.” You explained, knowing that you had never really thought twice about it; everything any of your clients gifted you was important to you and deserved a spot up on your bulletin board.

Alongside from Sam, your work was the most important thing to you. It was a part of you, and the only reason you and Sam got along so well is because he understood that. Lots of plans were cancelled or rescheduled at the drop of a dime, but he never cared and never made you feel bad about it. Sometimes, you were up at four in the morning, running out the door to the hospital in the early stages of your friendship, but it never deterred him from spending time with you. When you moved to a private company, things grew a little more relaxed and you had a lot more scheduled appointments rather than emergency appointments, but Sam would have stuck around no matter your situation.

“I mean, today someone gave me a yo-yo.” You said, a grin lighting up your face. “I’ve always wanted an excuse to learn those stupid tricks everyone knew how to do in middle school, and now I can.”

“Oh, I can’t wait to see that.” Danny let out a laugh, his shoulders shaking and his eyes crinkled with joy just at the thought of it.

“So what about you? What have you been up to?” You asked, growing tired of talking about you and eager to hear what he’d been up to.

“The same old, really. I went home and visited my family for a few days, so that was nice.” He said, knocking back the last of his drink and grabbing another from the box by his feet.

“That is nice!” You exclaimed, a warm smile encasing your lips. “I know you don’t get to see them all that often, so it must have been really good to go home.”

“It was,” he agreed, nodding at the thought.

“How’s your sister doing? I know she was stressed out about the last semester of school the last time we talked.”

“Good! She passed with no problem, worried about nothing as per usual.” He responded, almost wowed by how much attention you paid to him when he spoke.

“And that girl you were talking to… Sarah?” You asked, nervous you might have gotten the name wrong. He gave a nod, reassuring you that you got it right. “How’s that going?”

“Good! She couldn’t make it tonight, but I think it’s headed somewhere. Hopefully, at least.” He shrugged, trying to make it seem like it was less important to him than it was.

“I’m sure it will. I’m happy for you.” You smiled. Just as he was about to respond, Sam shouted his name from across the table, pulling him in a completely different direction. You didn’t pay much mind to it, settling comfortably back in your seat as Sam resumed an earlier conversation with the boy beside you.

You settled back into your seat, finding yourself content without feeling the need to be caught in conversation. You sipped at your drink, noticing your cheeks begin to turn rosy as the tipsiness started to set in. Your skin was warm, your mind swimming with thoughts that pertained to nothing important. You tucked your foot underneath your knee, relaxing into the position as Sam gave you a reassuring smile across the table. You gave him a small wave in return, finding the mixed drink in your cup taste better the longer you worked at it.

Some time passed, but nothing too interesting ensued. No further words were shared between you and Jake, but you did occasionally find yourself talking across the table with Sam, and a few times you were leaned over close to Danny to hear him over the chattering crowd and loud music. Then, something incredibly familiar reached your ears, the sound soothing as it drifted from the guitar in Jake’s lap and over towards you. The twang was different, a little more calm as he played on the acoustic, but it was still just as good.

Green River.

You turned your head towards him, smiling as you watched his fingers pluck the strings. You bit your tongue, tempted to sing along but knowing it likely wouldn’t help the lingering tension between you and the boy. Your gaze flickered to his face, curious to see his expression as he played the song you very clearly expressed your enjoyment of. To your surprise, he was looking at you, and the usual scowl on his face had softened into an almost smile.

He wanted to know if you liked it, almost excited at the prospect of impressing you with the song.

Perhaps Sam was right, and you hadn’t tried hard enough to get to know him. You weren’t committed enough to getting through the tough exterior, because in that moment, you saw a tiny glimpse of the Jake you saw that night in the bathroom. His eyes were warm, glimmering with curiousity as he continued to strum the tune. Maybe he wasn’t so against knowing you, but rather needed some common ground so he could get his footing.

No matter the reasoning, you could go along with it, because without the cold undertones in his expression, he was a million times more attractive than he’d ever been before. The liquor in your cup was strong, definitely encouraging your thoughts about his pretty face, but as he played a song you remembered from the happiest days of your childhood, it struck something within you that he’d never touched before.

“Sing it.” Jake encouraged, his voice just loud enough for you to hear as he played the intro a second time through. You thought you misheard him, unable to believe he was really initiating such a fun moment that involved both of you, together. Even as you tried to discredit it, his eyes told you otherwise, imploring you to do as he asked.

“Well, take me back down where cool water flow,” you began, knowing your intoxication had everything to do with your courage. You worried that he would change his mind, or regret asking you to do so, but as you finished he played the little riff that followed, a genuine smile beginning to blossom on his lips.

“Let me remember things I love, Lord

Stoppin' at the log where catfish bite

Walkin' along the river road at night

Barefoot girls dancin' in the moonlight.” You sang the verse, growing more comfortable when Sam joined in along the way. By the time you finished the last line, Danny was leaned in close behind you, also belting the lyrics alongside you.

Then, the most shocking part of it all came about when Jake led you back into the second verse. He joined in, happily singing along with the three of you as if it were a completely normal thing for him to do.

“Fuck yeah, Jake!” You exclaimed, seeing his eyes brighten at your drunken cheer. For a single moment, things felt normal. They felt right, with you cheering him on and him trying not to laugh at your antics, like it was meant to be that way all along.

Maybe Sam was right, and the two of you could click well, even after all the time spent ignoring each other.

He led himself into a small guitar solo, seemingly trying to show off as he slammed the pick down on the strings. You clapped along, a blinding smile lighting up your face as you watched him do what he loved most. You couldn’t help but admire how stunning he looked, his pink lips slightly damp from his tongue running over them while he focused. The blush of his cheeks under the lowlight, and his dark lashes casting the tiniest of shadows under his eyes. He was beautiful, and you couldn’t seem to pull yourself away from him.

You were so immersed in his enigmatic nature that you failed to sing along with the group when the third verse rounded. Stunned and slightly nervous that someone had caught you amidst the impromptu staring contest, you cleared your throat and joined in with the singing, only slightly less enthusiastic. When the song finished, you were breathless and in a mess of jumbled thoughts, but it had nothing to do with the singing you were doing. Before Jake could say anything to you, you downed the last of your drink, reaching into your bag to refill the cup. You knew you would need the courage, especially now that the relationship between you seemed to hit a pivotal moment.

When you straightened back up in your seat, you sipped from the rim of the cup to lower your chances of spilling it all over yourself. Your eyes flickered to the man beside you, but to your dismay, he wasn’t looking at you at all. The smile faded from your lips as you quickly tried to cover up your growing disappointment, wondering if you were an idiot for thinking the two of you might be more comfortable speaking. You waited for a moment, just to see if he would initiate something, but you were met with nothing once again.

You were an idiot, and for more reason than just that. You were ridiculous for believing that he would be interested with you, in all of his blinding beauty and amidst the rockstar lifestyle. He had girls falling at his feet, prettier and with more to offer than you had. You were breaking your own heart by entertaining the feeble idea Sam planted in your mind, and you needed to realize the truth of the matter.

Still, a small fizzle of hope existed within your chest, and you thought you would give it one last shot.

“That was really good, Jake. Thank you for playing it for me.” You said, keeping your tone sweet and the look in your eyes warm despite the blossoming uncertainty in your stomach.

“What? I didn’t play it for you.” The words tumbled out of his mouth at the speed of light, defensive and with little thought put into them. As if he saw the breaking of your heart before his own eyes, he softened slightly, realizing that his words were too harsh, even for his normal brooding self. “I played it for myself, too. I love that song.” He added, hoping that it would lessen the blow. You could tell he only said it to feel like less of an asshole, and it only worsened your already bruised feelings.

You could feel an unfamiliar feeling rising in your chest, one that craved conflict. You thought that if you handed his rudeness back to him, he’d learn his lesson and realize how terrible he’d been to you over the years of knowing him. You wanted a fight, to figure out the real reason behind his dislike for your company, and you needed it now. If he hated you, you wanted him to come clean and say it. You were sick of trying to start a friendship with someone who only ever made you feel like shit about it.

Then, before the accusations could leave your lips, he spoke again, but you would have preferred him not to say anything at all.

“Heard it’s supposed to be really nice out, tomorrow.” He forced the weather forecast through his teeth, rubbing salt into an already lethal wound.

“Perfect,” your lips pulled together tightly, forcing some semblance of a smile as you nodded your head. “You know, we don’t have to talk about the weather every fucking time we speak, Jake.” He seemed to physically recoil from your nasty tone, seemingly never expecting something even slightly vicious to leave your tongue.

“Okay, what else would you like to talk about, Y/N?” He asked, a hint of condescension in his words. You rolled your eyes, long past furious with his blatant rejection of your presence.

“Maybe one of the fifteen other topics I’ve tried to talk about with you?” You offered the alternative like it never crossed his mind at all. “You know what? Nevermind. Doesn’t matter.” You shook your head, understanding you were preparing to fight a losing battle. When it came to anything negative, Jake was always going to come out on top.

“What, did Little Miss Sunshine finally hit her breaking point? Is this the first time you’ve ever been angry, sweetheart? ‘Cause it wouldn’t fuckin’ surprise me.”

“Fuck off, Jake.” You huffed, leaning forward and grabbing your bag from between your legs. “Like I said, fucking forget about it.”

Just as you did so, Danny leaned towards you in an instinctive reaction to someone playfully pushing him by the arm of the couch. His shoulder collided with your back, causing you to lurch towards Jake and at the same time, your full solo cup to slip from your fingers. As you tried to recover from the strong (and irritatingly painful) collision between your back and Danny’s shoulder, you barely noticed the liquid that had spilled from your hands onto the couch, and unluckily, Jake’s leg.

Before you could process all that happened in such a short time, you heard Danny’s profuse apologies from over your shoulder, but not well over the boom of Jake’s voice.

“Christ, Y/N!” He exclaimed, raising the guitar from his lap as he made a move to stand. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Watch what you’re fucking doing, next time!”

His words, equal to a million stabs in the chest, seemed to snap that little rational part of your brain you tried to desperately hold on to when in his company. Instead of an angry outburst, you felt tears well in your eyes, finally fed up with his irrationally irate attitude towards you. You tried to muster an ‘I’m sorry’, but every time the words began to make their way through your throat, your muscles constricted around them. Instead, you grabbed your things, in a hurry to get out of there and never come back. Before you were on your feet, tears spilled over on your cheeks, and your face felt like it was on fire. Your heart was thumping so fast and hard you could feel it in every part of your body, and your throat ached to cry out.

Why didn’t he like you?

What did you do to deserve such miserable treatment?

Why couldn’t he just pretend to tolerate you, instead of making it blatantly obvious to everyone how much he hated you?

You clutched your empty cup and your bag tightly to your chest as you stepped over Danny’s legs, your vision blurred with tears you refused to let Jake see as you rushed away from the group. By the time you made it to the stairs, you knew you would be alright, so long as you didn’t come face to face with him again. You clambered to the top of the stairwell, pushing through bodies in search of the front door. You were desperate for air, just for a breath of relief to help you forget about his venomous tone. When your fingers clasped around the doorknob, you instantly felt better. You pulled it open, stepping foot into the yard and away from the chaos.

The porch was near vacant aside from the couple engaging in a handsy makeout session a few feet away, but not even they seemed to notice you. You pulled the skirt of your dress down as you stepped forward, crouching down until your ass hit the wooden step. You released your hold on the short dress, stretching your legs out as you adjusted to a more comfortable position on the stair. You let your hand run through your hair, your fingers catching on knots as you combed through the mess of loose curls. You let out a shaky sigh, wiping the tears away from your cheeks as you let your eyes flutter closed.

You wouldn’t let him get the best of you, even though it was so easy for him to do it. You were better than his short fuse and lack of regard for your feelings, and you wouldn’t feed into the fire he created. As much as you wanted to yell, to call him out on his ridiculous behavior, it wasn’t you. You weren’t angry; you were bubbly, happy and outgoing, and you adored making new friends. You were a social worker who loved children because of their unusual glee despite being in horrible situations. You loved it so much, because that’s who you were. You loved being happy, the light shining in darkness even when you should be miserable and sad. You liked being that beacon of light for others, and you made it a point to remember small details so nobody ever felt forgotten.

You were kind hearted and free spirited, and you loved to love. You wouldn’t let him take that away from you, in all of his gruff grumpiness and dark brooding eyes. You were human, and everyone likes to be liked, but you didn’t care anymore. If he wanted to dislike you, that was fine, because you loved being you and you didn’t care to change for anyone. If he didn’t like your behavior, your desperation to see the best in everything and your constantly joyus nature, he was the one losing, not you. You wouldn’t bend your own boundaries to make someone like him happy.

The door creaking open behind you pulled you from your thoughts, making you peek over your shoulder to investigate the disturbance. You were met with a sight for sore eyes, the pure chaos of the moment putting a smile on your face despite your own internal struggles. Sam was stumbling towards you, his eyes heavy and glossy as he clutched a beer bottle tight in his hand. He was positively hammered, and you could tell with every step he took.

His stare landed on you, like he was a predator in search of prey. His hand holding the bottle raised, his index finger straightening and pointed in your direction. “Was looking for you, knockout. You’re fast.”

“You’re drunk, Sam.”

“Pshh,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Tell me something I don’t know.” He took a few unsteady steps towards you, placing his hand against the railing to steady himself as he sat down beside you.

“I love you, you know.” You smiled, hugging your knees to your chest as you rested your chin atop of them.

“I love you, Y/N.” He slurred, the smell of alcohol radiating from him. In some strange way, drunken Sam had always secretly been your favorite, mostly because of his unapologetic nature when it came to the tellings of his heart. “You’re the best friend ever, you know. Like the best. Couldn’t imagine life without you.” He rambled, slinging his arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer to him. “You’re always so sweet and kind, and you make the best cookies, and you come to my stupid parties and talk to my stupid brother, even when you don’t want to. There’s nothing wrong with you, Princess. Don’t listen to him, ‘cause he’s stupid.” He reiterated the same sentiment, causing a small giggle to fall from your lips.

“F’course I show up to your parties, Sammy.” You whispered, leaning your head against his shoulder. He smelled familiar, giving you a sense of home you couldn’t find anywhere else. “Wouldn’t imagine life any other way.”

“And everyone loves you, Y/N. Josh, and Danny, and even Jake. ‘Specially Jake.” He hiccuped, smiling at the thought. The apples of his rosy cheeks were so soft in the moonlight, the sight heartwarming and forcing a smile onto your cheeks, too.

“No, I don’t think he does, Sammy boy, and that’s okay.” You whispered, gazing up at the stars and living in the sweetness of this moment rather than the bitterness of the one you shared with Jake.

“No, don’t think you get it, Princess.” He chuckled, his head toppling over onto yours as he heaved a large breath. He was caught in a nasty bout of hiccups, and his movements were all sloppy and loose. You were beginning to realize he was much more intoxicated than even you perceived him to be, and you were going to have to get him inside and to bed soon. “I can’t tell you, cause he wouldn’t like that, but he likes you, Y/N, wholeee hell of a lot.” He put the extra emphasis on the words to ensure you took him seriously. You laughed at his words, his oxymoronic statement, and the tone in which he said it.

“Sure, Sam.” You chuckled, pulling away from him slightly. You immediately missed the comfort of his touch, but you knew it was for the best. “Why don’t we get you upstairs, honey? Maybe a glass of water?”

“You think?” He asked, squinting at the porch light as he turned to look at you. His expression was challenging, but you both knew you’d win the fight.

“I know, Sam.” You gave him a soft smile. “Come with me?”

“Okay.” He huffed, nodding in agreement. “You’re staying tonight, right? Don’t want you… driving home…” there was a lull in his tone, and you noticed his eyes drooping lower the longer he spoke. “Jake’s an idiot, want you to stay, even if you’re mad at him… please?”

“Of course I’ll stay, love.” You promised, rising to your feet after ensuring you had a firm grip on his arm. “Come on, stand up for me.” You urged, pulling him only slightly from his sitting position.

“Kay,” he let out a shallow sigh, helping you only slightly as you pulled him to his feet. As soon as he was standing, he stumbled forward into you, and you wrapped your arms around him to keep him upright.

“Easy, honey.” You hummed, only slightly intimidated under his body weight.

‘You’ve got this. Get him upstairs and into bed. You can do it.’ You repeated to yourself, carefully moving your grip so you had one arm securely around his torso.

“Come on, Sammy. Help me out here.” You pleaded, taking a step towards the door. He seemed to be growing more tired by the second, and you worried that you would not be able to support his weight if he grew any more lax in your arms. He stumbled forward, uttering nonsense about his love for you as you desperately tried to get him to the door. You figured if you at least got him inside, someone would be around to help you out with the rest.

You felt your legs quivering under his and your own weight, but you managed a few more steps forward until you were just shy of reaching the doorknob. As you ushered him forward, you reached a shaky hand out for the door, only to find someone else already opening it for you. You looked upwards, relief flooding your features until your gaze landed on the body in the doorway.

“Let me help.” Jake grumbled, stepping forward to join the two of you.

“It’s fine, Jacob. I’ve got it.” You snapped, taking another step forward.

“Clearly not, sweetheart. Quit being so fucking stubborn.” He argued, taking post at Sam’s other side as he guided his arm over his shoulder.

“Jake!” Sam exclaimed, a lazy smile crossing his face as he recognized his brother's familiar face. “Y/N, this is my idiot brother Jake. Have you met before?” Sam looked in your direction, sending you a lazy smile and a sloppy wink. You stifled a giggle as you tightened your hold around him.

“Hey, brother. Let’s get you to bed.” He chuckled, anchoring his own arm around Sam’s back alongside yours.

Deciding it was for the best, you let Jake help you with the daunting task. Together, the journey was much less treacherous, and you had him upstairs in no time. In Sam’s bedroom, you and Jake eased your hold on him as he sat down in his bed, his eyes threatening closed as he slumped down onto the mattress.

“I’ve got it from here, thanks.” You snipped, brushing past Jake to grab a trash can, just in case Sam started to feel sick.

“He’s my brother, Y/N. I can take care of him.” He shot back, fixing the pillows so Sam could lay down.

“We’ll he’s my best friend, and I’m not fucking leaving him.” You huffed, helping Sam lay down on his side so he would not fall asleep on his back.

“Guess you’ll just have to deal with it, then, cause I’m staying too.” He rolled his eyes, plopping down on an armchair in the corner of the room.

“Great.” You muttered, fixing the blankets as Sam fought with the buttons on his shirt. “You okay, honey? I can help.” You offered, noticing his particularly annoyed expression as he couldn’t complete the task he’d set out to do. “Can you get him some water, Jacob?” You asked, a little more curt than you intended, but neglecting to feel remorseful about it.

“Why don’t you go, and I’ll get him out of his shirt?” Jake offered, malice fleeing him temporarily in hopes the arrangement might be more comfortable for you.

“Fine.” You sighed, stepping away from the bed and back into the hallway. A quick trip downstairs and one bottle of water later, you were back at Sam’s bedside, trying to get him to sip away at a hydrating alternative to the beer he was drinking all night.

You sat on the edge of the bed, watching as Sam relaxed against the mattress and melted into the pillows. Carefully, you reached out and brushed his hair from his face, gathering it in your hands as you slipped an elastic around it from your wrist. You couldn’t help but smile as he began to softly snore, a sure sign he was out for the night.

“Thank you, Y/N.” Jake said, his tone strong and startling you as you pulled your eyes away from Sam.

“For what?”

“For caring so much about him.” He shrugged, showing you a glimpse of himself as he professed his gratitude. “He’s my brother. Means a lot to me that you love him so much.”

“Don’t need to thank me for it.” You shrugged. “Hard not to. He’s the best friend I’ve ever had.” The two of you fell into a silence for a moment, the tension in the air thick and uncomfortable. You wondered if he would apologize, rectify the harsh words he’d thrown your way, or if maybe tonight would be the night he finally confessed how much he hated you. Or, maybe it was neither of those things, and the night would take the worst turn of all; the two of you sitting there, caring for a drunken Sam in awkward silence and sharing occasional words. Perhaps you could even talk about the weather.

“So when are you two gonna tie the knot?” Jake asked, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched you carefully.

“What?” You asked, looking over at him with confusion written all over.

“Everybody’s thinking it. We’re just waiting for you to get on with it.” He said, his gaze never leaving your face, almost as if he was challenging you.

“I don’t like Sam like that, Jake. He doesn’t feel that way about me, either.” You were firm with your response, ensuring he understood that.

“Right.” He whispered, muttering something under his breath you couldn’t quite catch. Your eyebrows furrowed, curious about his words but unsure if you even cared enough to ask. You turned back to Sam, running a gentle hand over his arm as he slept soundly. As you did so, you could feel Jake’s eyes burning into you, making you shift uncomfortably in your position. Eventually, it became too much to ignore, and your head turned towards him again.

“What is your problem?” You asked, stronger than you intended.

“Nothing,” he defended himself, his lips turned down into a frown. “Am I not allowed to look at you?”

“Why would you want to?” You rolled your eyes, looking away from his face. You found it much harder to stay angry with him when you couldn’t stop thinking about how attractive he was. He opted not to respond to the topic at hand, but instead moved back to a previous one.

“Why don’t you and Sam get together?”

“Jesus, what does it matter?” You asked, answering his questions with more. You weren’t keen on discussing your romantic relationships with a man who barely cared enough to notice your presence in a room, and you definitely weren’t willing to discuss your relationship with Sam with him.

“You wanted me to talk, so I’m talking!” He argued, keeping his voice hushed so he would not wake his brother.

“Yeah, I wanted you to talk three years ago, Jake.” You laughed, shaking your head as you did so, but the situation was not funny to you. You couldn’t believe him, and he continually managed to surprise you with his offputting comments and his vague remarks. “I wanted to know you, but you’ve made enough of an impression already, and that ship has sailed.”

“I’m talking now, Y/N.” He tried again, his voice softer but still seemed standoffish.

“I don’t want you to, Jake.” You clarified, realizing you’d rather sit in silence or talk about the sunny skies, now. “I don’t care. I used to get upset because all you wanted to talk about was the weather, but I get that it is the only thing we have in common.” You stood, knowing you needed to take a step away from the situation before you exploded.

He was so good at getting under your skin, so different and so irritating. He ignored every one of your attempts at getting to know him, and you were over it. He didn’t get to be an asshole for so long and then suddenly change his mind about it, like he got to call the shots. The ball was in your court, and you weren’t willing to give him the time of day anymore.

“Wait,” he pleaded, holding his hand out to stop you from walking out on him. Ignoring his plea, you pushed past him, stepping towards the door with no intent on stopping. “Y/N, please.” He stood, reaching out to grab your arm so you could not leave.

“What, Jake?” You snapped, turning on your heel to face him. “Unless you’re going to tell me what your issue is, I have no interest in talking to you about anything.” There was a fire in his eyes unfamiliar to you, so different than the pained, distant expression he often adorned when looking in your direction.

“My issue is you!” He said, never dropping his hold on your wrist. It wasn’t tight, far from painful, but it was exhilarating. His skin on yours felt fantastic, even if he was an asshole.

“See? Was it that hard to finally fucking say it?” You fumed. “Just say you hate me, Jake. It’ll be so much easier for both of us!”

“It is hard, because I don’t hate you!” He confessed, taking you by complete surprise. “I couldn’t hate you, ever. Trust me when I say, I’ve fucking tried!”

“You don’t?” You asked, your knitting together in confusion. “Then what is your issue with me?”

“I don’t have an issue with you, Y/N. It’s me. It’s my problem.”

“Tell me Jake, please. I’ve spent so long wondering what I did to make you not like me, and I need to know.” You pleaded, your anger dissipating as you realized you finally might get an answer to the one question that constantly plagued you.

“Can we… Can we go somewhere else? Please?” Jake sighed, looking over his shoulder at his sleeping brother.

“Yeah, okay.” You nodded, stepping backwards and out of the room. He stayed close to you, ensuring Sam was alright before he closed the door behind him.

You led him down the hallway, turning into the guest bedroom that had become your very own. You stepped inside first, staying near the door as he walked in behind you. He knocked the door shut as he passed it, the music still booming downstairs and the crowd still plentiful despite the night changing into the early morning hours. You turned to face the boy, finding him already looking at you. His gaze was uncomfortable, especially knowing that there was so much unsaid between the two of you.

“So, what is it, Jake?” You asked, your arms loosely crossed over your chest as you tried to hide yourself under his stare. Now that the two of you were alone, your skimpy dress felt all the smaller, and you were self conscious knowing his eyes were drinking in every detail.

“I’ll tell you, but I need you to answer me first. Is there anything going on between you and Sam?” He asked, his palms pressed together and his fingers extended outwards, pointing towards you as he spoke.

“No, Jake. Not that it’s your business, but Sam and I are just friends; it’s always been that way, and it always will be.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.” You stressed the point. “Why does this have anything to do with you not liking me?”

“It has everything to do with it, because I do like you!” He exploded, the sudden shift taking you by surprise. You recoiled at the strength of his words, watching him in shock for a moment.

“What are you angry about?” You asked, unable to piece together his erratic behaviour. His head fell back on his shoulders, a groan leaving his lips as he struggled to speak. It seemed as if his thoughts were plaguing him and he wanted to do anything other than confess them.

“I do like you, sunshine, and a lot more than you think.” He explained, drawing in a long breath and stepping towards you. “I like you too much, and I am a fucking idiot for treating you so badly, but I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Talk to me, Jake. Tell me what’s wrong, and we can work it out, together.” You pleaded, a shred of sympathy for the man taking hold despite all of your anger.

“See? That’s why, because after three years of me being a dick, you’re still trying to be nice to me!” He exclaimed, appalled at your concern and constant attempts to help fix things. “You should be yelling, or calling me names, or walking away, but you’re not.” He stressed the fact, hoping you understood what he meant.

“Is that what you want me to do?” You asked, confused by his response.

“No, I don’t want—“ he cut himself off, realizing how harsh and condescending the words sounded. “I love you, Y/N, and that’s why I can’t fucking talk to you, because I know I shouldn’t!” You were stunned, taken back by his bold confession and unsure how to respond to it. Your eyes widened, your lips parted as you breathed in his bare honesty hanging in the air. “I’ve spent three years falling for you, and it fucking kills me, but I can’t get you out of my head. Your perfect smile, and that cute little laugh, and the fact you care about everyone and everything, no matter what. You take care of all of us, all of the time. You’re funny, you’re smart, and you are way out of my league.”

You were so shocked at his confession that you forgot to breathe for a moment, and the fact he thought you were out of his league was laughable. You were in such a state that you didn’t think your actions through before responding, and an actual laugh fell from your lips. As soon as the sound reached your ears, your hand instinctively raised and clamped over your mouth, horrified that you made the sound in the first place. A flash of hurt crossed his face, the small expression telling you he regretted speaking at all. The laugh cut deep, but he was misunderstanding the intent behind it.

“You know what? Never mind. Pretend I never said anything at all.” He muttered, stepping towards the door.

“No, Jake.” You stepped forward, this time to stop him from leaving. “I’m not laughing at you.” You promised, your cool hand landing on his noticeably warm biceps. The soft fabric of his shirt felt good on your fingers, and an unfamiliar feeling blossomed in the pit of your stomach. “It’s just… I spent so long thinking you hated me. It’s a lot to take in. You have to understand that.” His eyes flickered back to you, then down to your hand on his arm. There was no longer any malice in his face, the softness of his features all the more alluring now that his defences were down. “Just… work with me, please?”

“Okay.” He whispered, turning back towards you slowly.

“I just… I think that you believing I’m out of your league is funny, because it couldn’t be further from the truth.” You explained, your voice quiet. The two of you were closer than you’d ever been, the heat of his body radiating from him. The sweet, intoxicating smell of his cologne you remembered so fondly from the night in the bathroom hit you with full force, skewing every one of your morals the longer you breathed it in. The drunken, desperate part of you was almost willing to forgo any tough conversation and have your way with him then and there, but you managed to stave off the urge for a little longer. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Why would I, Y/N?” He asked, frustrated by the thought, but much more calm now that he understood your feelings a bit better. “Why would I try to pursue you, when we both know that I’m no good for you?”

“No good for me?” You asked, inching closer to him in hopes you wouldn’t have to give up the contact with him.

“Yeah,” he nearly scoffed the word. “No good for you. Think about it, sweetheart. You are a ray of sunshine, all of the time. You light up a room wherever you go, and everyone falls in love with you without even trying. You’re a social worker, for gods sake. You’re so good that you help people for a living, with no benefit to yourself. You remember the small details, you never make anyone feel left out or forgotten. You’re good, and I’m not. I treated you like shit for three years because I couldn’t let myself drag you down with me. I didn’t want to do that to you, but I had to.”

“What are you talking about, Jake? You wouldn’t be dragging me down at all.” You wished he would hear how ridiculous his words sounded, but he was stubborn, and you knew that for a fact.

“I’m miserable. I’m mean, and I’m snarky when I don’t even want to be. I’ve got a temper, and I say things I shouldn’t. You don’t deserve someone like that. You deserve someone who’s just as happy as you are, who puts out just as much good in the world. You’re waking up at three in the morning to go to the hospital and help out a family in need, and I’m just passing out drunk on someone’s couch. You help people, and I hurt people, even when I don’t want to. You don’t deserve that, Y/N, and I can’t do that to you. I bit my tongue because I wanted you to fall in love with someone who could make you happy.” He explained, his drunken ramblings tugging at your heartstrings.

“Jake,” you whispered, your hand tightening on his arm to pull his attention towards you. Now that he started, he couldn’t seem to stop himself from talking. All that he held back for so long was finally surfacing, and it didn’t seem to want to slow.

“I wanted you to fall in love with Sam, because you two are great for each other. It would have sucked, but I know that you deserve someone who can love you like that. I hate myself for pushing you so far away, but I had to, for you. I didn’t want you to get involved with me, because you are too bright and shiny, and I’m a little bit broken. I don’t know how to love, I’m not good at it, and you should be with someone who can give you the world.”

“Hey.” You said, firm as you dropped your hold on his arm. You reached up, taking his cheeks between your hands and forcing him to look at you. “You don’t get to decide that for me. You don’t get to choose who is good for me and who isn’t, Jacob.” You said, swallowing hard as his brown eyes seemed to be staring into your soul. “You’re not broken, and you’re not bad, Jake. I’ve seen it before, and I’m seeing it right now. You have a big heart, and you care so much, even if you aren’t the best at showing it.” You breathed, looking over his face. Your heart was beating fast, your chest a mess of emotions you’d never quite felt before in your life. You were angry, confused, but also incredibly happy to finally hear the truth coming from his lips. You were oddly attracted to him in the moment, and you finally felt like the two of you were on the same page.

“I don’t like Sam that way, because I’m not looking for someone bright and shiny. I’m looking for someone who makes me feel something, and you do, and you always have. Why do you think I’m still trying so hard? After this long, I still want to be around you, and I still want to talk to you. I like being bright and shiny, and I like helping people. That’s who I am, and I can’t change that, but there’s nothing wrong with you, Jake. You said you’re ‘bad’, but how could you be? You spent three years putting me before you, because you didn’t want to hurt me.” You explained, begging for him to see reason. “What you just said to me, about how you feel… Jake, nobody’s ever said anything like that before. Nobody’s ever cared like that before.”

“I do care, and I definitely don’t hate you. I had to push you away, because every time I see you, I want to tell you how badly I need you. I tried so hard to get over you, but I can’t get you out of my fucking head.” At that, his hands raised to your hips, drawing you closer to him as he spoke.

“I’m not asking you to, Jake.” You said, your head spinning from the feeling of his hands on you. It felt so good, so unlike anything you’d ever felt before. Your hands were still on his cheeks, his face unbearably close to your own. After hearing everything he had to say, it made sense. All of the staring, his avoidance of being alone with you, the sweet moment in the bathroom. “I like you, in all of your grumpiness. I think you’re funny, and smart, and you are incredibly talented. I like that you play songs for me on the guitar, even if you don’t want to admit it, and I love that you love me so selflessly. You don’t get to decide if you’re no good for me, and you don’t get to force me to fall in love with someone else, because right now, I’m quite interested in knowing what it’s like to love you.”

“You can’t just say stuff like that, sweetheart.” He warned, his tone gravelly as his heart began to beat solely for you, for the moment you were sharing.

“I’m not just saying it. I mean it. After all this time, I’m still here, listening to everything you have to say.”

“I did play that song for you. I wanted to see you smile.” He confessed, almost pained at how badly he needed to see the joy written over your face. “I wanted to hear you sing it. I wanted you to sit next to me. I want it all, Y/N, all of the god damn time. I want you, but I don’t know how to do it right.”

“We can work on that part, because I want you too, Jake. I can’t walk away from you after you said all of that, because I don’t think I’ll every find anyone else quite like you. I don’t care if you’re grumpy, and I don’t care if you have a hard time showing how you feel. You’re not broken, and you’re not bad for me.” You felt your lips upturn into a small smile, noticing the blush of his cheeks and all of the small details you never had the chance to admire.

There was a splatter of freckles across the bridge of his nose, like a constellation gracing his tanned skin. His brown eyes were even more breathtaking up close, and the fullness of his lips were more tempting than they’d ever been. You wanted to lean forward, to taste the sweetness he’d been withholding from you. The stony expression you’d grown so used to finally melted away, and you could see why he always adorned it while around you. Now that his cover was blown, the mask was gone, and he was looking at you with nothing but love in his eyes.

He was still hesitant, nervous about tainting the perfection you carried around with you. He didn’t want to dim your light, and he didn’t want to hurt you anymore.

“Stop pushing me away, Jacob. I don’t want to be anywhere else, or with anyone else.” You whispered. “I don’t want to walk away and forever wonder what it would feel like to love you. I can’t keep replaying ‘what if’s’ in my head for the rest of my life, and I don’t want that for you, either.”

“I’m not good at this stuff, sweetheart.”

“We’ll never know if we don’t try.” You offered, gravity pulling your face closer to his. Your nose was brushing his own, the smell of whiskey on his breath apparent and inviting. You weren’t sure what he was doing to you, but you’d never been so overcome with emotion in your entire life. “I don’t need someone bright and shiny, Jake. I need someone that balances me out. I need you.” His grip on your hips tightened, the breath catching in his throat at the three little words he’d been longing to hear since he first laid eyes on you.

“You mean it?” He asked, raising one eyebrow in inquiry as he ensured you were certain about everything you said. He didn’t want you to wake up tomorrow and regret it, realizing you drank too much and that he was too much.

“I mean it, Jake. I need you.” You stressed your point, desperate for him to close the gap between your mouths and finally give you the satisfaction of kissing him. Many nights you spent awake in bed, angry about his behavior and unbelievably turned on at how much you liked it. You hated yourself for being attracted to his behavior, but now that it made sense, you didn’t need to feel that way ever again. All the shame was gone, dissolving into one, unbearable, undying need for him.

The two of you clicked, better than anyone else ever had before. Even when you were arguing, short with each other and trying your best to stay away, there was always something. Whether it be a lingering stare, an accidental touch, or a sweet moment when you least expected it, he never failed to capture your attention and you couldn’t seem to pull yourself away. He was infuriating, but you always seemed to come back for more, unable to refute his beauty and unable to resist the urge to know him. You couldn’t stand the idea of him disliking you, because you so badly wanted him to feel the same way about you. You wanted him to be caught up on you, curious about you and desperate to know more. You wanted him to be drawn to you in the same way, and you couldn’t handle him pushing you aside because your interest in him was driving you crazy.

“Say it one more time?” He asked, his lips just barely brushing over your own as he spoke.

“Please, Jake. I need you to kiss me.” You repeated, stronger than the last. Before the last word fully left your mouth, his lips were on yours and he was pulling you into him by your hips.

With your body pressed against his own, you felt all of the tension between the two of you finally subside. His lips were locked with yours, finally getting the satisfaction he’d been craving for so long. Your hands held his face, the touch tender and telling of your enjoyment. The tips of your fingers were tangled in the strands of his hair, the soft chestnut locks twisted around your fingers in a way you only ever imagined they would be. The taste of him on your tongue was addicting, even more so as his tongue swiped over your bottom lip, begging you to let him take it further. You parted your lips for him, feeling his tongue quickly take advantage of the opportunity you had given him.

He tasted as sweet as you imagined he would, the warm remnants of whiskey he was drinking still lingering on him. He was addicting, intoxicating, and he was driving you insane without even trying. His hands on your hips were rough but gentle all the same, holding you tightly but cautious as if he thought he might break you. For the first time in your life, you were overtaken by greed, completely blind to anything other than your desire for him. The heat of his body as he held you to him, how perfect the two of you felt pressed together, was better than anything you’d ever felt in your entire life. His heart was beating hard against his chest, in time with yours as the two of you melted into one, cohesive mess for each other.

You let a moan slip out into his mouth, unable to hide your enjoyment for the moment. You felt his fingers tighten on you as he drank in the sound, surviving off of the sweet noise and locking it up in his heart for safe keeping. He pulled away from you, breathless with stars dancing in his eyes as he looked down at your face. His lips were swollen, the slight pout that so often made an appearance was nowhere to be found. He looked stunning, and you couldn’t believe he felt such a way about you.

“Hard for me to behave myself when you sound like that.” He huffed, his pupils growing large as he continued to study your expression.

“Who said you had to behave?” You asked, a sparkle of mischief shining in your eyes.

“Fuck, baby.” He groaned, your words hitting him harder than you thought they would.

He reached down, his hands landing on the back of your thighs as he lifted you in one swift motion. You locked your arms around his neck, your stomach twisting with excitement as you wrapped your legs around him. As he pressed his lips to yours again, he took a step forward. You were so immersed in the feeling of kissing him that you barely registered the chill that ran through you as he pressed your back up against the wall. With his newfound leverage, he pressed himself further into you, your hips meeting his as he kissed you. The intensity of the moment grew tenfold, especially with the new position.

The burning sensation in the pit of your stomach had prompted an ache between your legs that was becoming harder to ignore the longer he kissed you. Your dress had ridden up your thighs, resting just below your hips now. You quickly understood that you were not the only one with a growing problem, and you could feel his own desperation as your clothed cunt met with his cock through his pants. You could feel his entire length against you, and as much as you loved the feeling of kissing him, it made it incredibly hard to think about anything else.

His strong hands held your thighs, never letting you believe he’d drop you. He had you pinned against the wall, leaving no room for you to escape, and you were happy with it; there was nothing in the world that could stop you now, especially after feeling the euphoric affect of his touch. He was overwhelming entirely, but in the best possible way. You couldn’t even manage to form a coherent thought about anything other than the way he was making you feel, and you were eager to explore the possibilities the night held.

You tangled your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, allowing yourself to fully embrace how good he was making you feel with such a small amount of effort. His hands felt like they were burning into your skin, the touch melting into you, and his chest pressed against yours felt right. The scent of his cologne lingered in the air, filling your senses every time you had a chance to catch your breath. Both of your lips were slippery, slick with saliva as he continued to kiss you, making even more of a mess. His lax attitude made it all the better, showing you that he was completely comfortable no matter how far you wanted to take it.

Perhaps the most pressing thought of all was how perfectly his hips met yours, and how badly you needed to feel it with less clothing in the way.

“Jake,” you breathed, parting from him as you rested your forehead against his.

“Could listen to you say my name like that for the rest of my fucking life.” He muttered, his tone gravelly and his gruffness making a return. This time, instead of irritating you, it sent a wave of pleasure straight through you. In an instant, you understood that his strong personality extended far beyond the realm of casual conversation, and you were eager to see it in action in a whole new way.

“I want you, baby.” You said, the words falling from your lips in a whimper. The need for him completely overtook you, in a way you almost didn’t believe possible. An hour ago, you were furious with him, convinced that he hated you and wanted nothing to do with you. Now, you were digesting the fact that no touch had ever felt so good, and you would do anything to be under him, just for a night. “Please.”

“Tell me what you want, beautiful.” He said, looking over your face with a fire in his eye that you ignited. It felt good to be looked at in such a way, like the whole world turned just for you. “Tell me everything.” He ordered, willing to comply with every one of your wishes, but wanting you to give him every one of the details.

“I want it all, Jake. I want you.” You explained, feeling his hips push forward. The pressure of his cock against your aching clit gave you a hint of relief, but it wasn’t enough. “I want you to make me feel good. I want you to touch me.” You pleaded.

“What else, gorgeous?” He asked, his lips ghosting over your jaw. You let your head fall back against the wall, giving him access to any part of you he wanted. His lips placed kisses along your jawline as he awaited an answer, sloppy as he began and growing even more so as he continued down to your neck.

“I want you to fuck me, Jake.” You confessed, free of any shame over the fact. “I need you to fuck me.” You corrected yourself, your desire pulsing under your skin as his tongue traced over the artery in your neck. He could feel your heartbeat on the tip of his tongue, your very life source offered to him on a silver platter. He pressed his lips to the pulse point, drinking in the desperation in your tone as he suctioned his lips around the very spot. Your eyes fluttered closed as he applied the slightest bit of pressure, focusing his attention there for a moment until he pulled away.

His eyes raked over the sight, the skin pink and irritated from his lips and darkening by the second. A perfect circular mark to remind you of him with every beat of your heart.

“I guess even a perfect little thing like you has some secrets to hide.” He rasped, his pupils consuming his irises as lust worked to craze him. “Tell me how you want me, angel, and I’ll give it to you.” You watched him carefully, your cheeks flushed and your skin hot. Your nipples were hard, pressed against his chest as he spoke to you. Every time he moved, the friction sent another rush of arousal straight to your core. Your skin was tingling, your excitement reaching every nerve ending and sending goosebumps prickling over your skin. “Tell me how you want me to fuck you, sweetheart.” He spoke again, trying to pry the dirty confession from you.

You had thought about it many times, but one thing you never seemed to consider was that in every fantasy, you got off from the simple idea of him doing whatever he wanted to you. Now, after experiencing touch from his hands, you felt that way more than ever before. No matter what he did to you, you knew you were bound to enjoy it.

“That’s it, beautiful? You want me to fuck you however I want?”

“Yes,” you nodded, excited just at the prospect. You looked over his face, piecing together every bit of information you knew about him. He was blunt, honest, and he liked to be in control. You couldn’t imagine sex with him being any other way than that, and you were eager to please him. If it was something as simple as that, you had no issue giving him the chance. “I just want to make you feel good, baby.”

The words seemed to cause a short circuit in his brain as he processed them. His hands tightened on you, his cock pushing forward into your cunt even further and his breath caught in his throat. He studied you for a moment, quiet and concentrated as he tried his best to figure you out. After a moment, his lips upturned into a devious smirk.

“Have you thought about me like this before, sweetheart?” He hummed, smug as he asked you the invasive question. Your cheeks burned red, your heart beating faster than normal as you quickly tried to find a cover up for the truth. Then, you realized you didn’t really care at all. You had thought about him in that way, and you had no reason to be embarrassed about it at all.

“I have.” You gave a slight nod, confirming his suspicion.

“And you got off to that? The thought of being my little fuck toy?” He pressed further, his intent to get you to admit to the dirty little fantasy. Although you wouldn’t have worded it quite the same as he did, the sentiment was the same, and you did get off on that thought alone. “Don’t be shy now, baby.” He said, his fingers snaking up the skirt of your dress.

“I did,” you whispered, biting down on the inside of your lip as you waited for him to respond.

“And you’ve been keeping that to yourself all this time?” He asked, his nose brushing against your jaw as his lips ghosted over your neck again. You squirmed under his touch, the feeling of his hot breath on your skin driving you insane. The tips of his fingers found your hips, settling just below the elastic waistband of your underwear.

He was going to be the death of you, and you were certain of that.

“Let me get this straight, angel.” He contined, pressing a delicate kiss to the sensitive spot just below your ear. A breathy wine pushed past your lips, your entire body ablaze with desire and desperate for him to do something other than tease you. “Did you like it when I was mean to you?” His words were soft, carefully treading the topic as he continued to gently rock his hips against your own. The dry friction was enough to keep you sane, but nowhere near what you needed. He took your silence as enough of an answer, smiling against you as you contined to try and move your hips further down on him. “Never would have guessed that Little Miss Sunshine likes to be treated like a whore.”

“Oh, fuck.” You whimpered, your eyes squeezing shut as you tried to press your thighs together to get a bit of friction. So strung out on desire, you didn’t even realize that all it was doing was pulling him further in to you.

“I bet that pretty cunt is such a mess for me, isn’t it?” He asked, pulling you away from the wall and stepping towards the bed. His hands were on your ass, firmly holding you so you did not have to fear him dropping you.

His cockiness was infuriating in any other context, but in the moment it was sending you feral. You were a shell of who you were earlier that night, the only thing fuelling you was your lust for the man below you. You were desperate, willing to do anything to have him, and finally coming to terms with the fact that your secret fantasies about him had nothing on real life.

“Answer me.” He growled, his fingers tightening on you as he drew your attention back to his question.

“Fuck yes, Jake.” You rushed out, feeling guilty for leaving him hanging.

“You want me to take care of that ache between your legs? Make you feel all better?” He asked, his eyes flickering to your face.

“Yes, please.” You nodded, meeting his gaze with doe eyes that seemed to drive him crazy. With that, he dropped you down on the mattress, the impact lessened by the springs bouncing you back upwards.

“You want me to take care of you, we do this my way.” He said, now gazing down at you with a slight sneer on his face. “Sound good to you, angel?” You nodded, never daring to look away from him. “First off, you refer to me as sir.” He waited until you processed the information before speaking again. “You answer when spoken to.” He added.

“Yes, sir.” You nodded. A small smirk turned his lips at the sound of your response.

“And the last one,” he crouched down, eye level with you to ensure you understood the importance of his rule. “Don’t ever, under any circumstance, be afraid to tell me to stop.” At that, a smile turned your lips, and he reached up to cup your face. “Okay?”

“Okay.” You nodded, your eyes fluttering closed at the feeling of his thumb drifting over your cheek.

“As for me, I’m going to enjoy this no matter how it goes, so tonight’s an apology for how poorly I treated you.”

“It’s okay, Jake.” You assured him, feeling slightly sad that he felt the need to settle the score. “You don’t have to apologize for anything.”

“I want to, ‘cause you deserve so much more than that.”

“Okay.” You breathed, nodding against his gentle hold. His thumb drifted downwards, caressing the smooth skin on your face until it landed over your bottom lip. He traced the outline, taking a moment to admire you and appreciate all he had. As he did so, you placed a kiss to the pad of his thumb, feeling an unfamiliar tug in your heart that did not match the energy the rest of the night held.

For some reason, in that moment, things finally began to sink in for you, and you finally saw him for all he was. He wasn’t just some angry man who was unjust and cruel. He was a person, with feelings that plagued him every day, feelings for you. He chose to push you away not because it would do any good for him, but because he wanted what was best for you. From that alone, you could see that he cared for you far beyond what anyone else ever had. In some strange, twisted turn of events, you could physically feel the pull of emotion in your chest, the blossoming feelings for Jake and all he was, including his pessimistic and avoidant attitude.

This was what was meant for the two of you. Not the fighting, or the avoidance, but this; a blatant and unashamed attempt to show each other how you felt. The whole time, he only wanted to love you, and you only ever wanted him to like you. You had no idea why you wanted him to like you so bad until the sweet words began to fall from his lips, and now you understood that you had always wanted him to be the one to say such things to you.

He was a mystery that you promised yourself you wouldn’t solve, but that’s exactly what you’d been trying to do all along. You started every conversation with the intent of turning it deeper, and you left empty handed and heartbroken because you always felt like there should have been something more between you. If you didn’t truly believe so, you would have quit a long time ago.

Instead of dwelling on the past, you allowed yourself to live in the moment. The rough pad of his thumb still rested on the delicate skin of your lips, and you did the only logical thing that was running through your mind; you parted your lips ever so slightly, pulling the digit into your mouth and letting it rest on your tongue. You suctioned your cheeks around it ever so slightly, your eyes fluttering up to meet his as you did so. His expression was deadly, his eyes focused on you as his jaw clenched and the familiar muscle in his jaw flexed. Slowly, you moved your head back, his thumb sliding from your lips and falling from your mouth with a faint popping sound.

A low groan rattled his chest, his eyes fluttering closed as his head fell towards the ground. You watched him, eyes never leaving him so you could soak up every bit of his energy. “You trying to fucking kill me, sweetheart?” He asked, the rhetoric meant to go unanswered as his hands landed on your hips.

He pulled your near the edge of the bed, settling himself on his knees before you as his hand grabbed the fabric of your dress. He bunched the material in his fists, sliding it upwards with help from you as you lifted your ass from the mattress. When the bottom of the skirt landed near your navel, he dipped his fingers underneath the elastic of your underwear, using the opportunity to pull them down your thighs before you returned to your earlier position.

With your ass resting on the edge of the bed and your lower half bare, he couldn’t seem to control himself any longer. This was a moment he thought about often, but never truly believed he would experience.

“Do you know how often I thought about you like this?” He asked, his fingers roughly guiding your leg over his shoulder. The sudden action knocked the breath straight from your lungs, causing you to clench around nothing just from the thought of what he would do to you. “How many times I wanted to bring you up here and have you all to myself?”

“I thought about it too.” You breathed, your stare locked in on his face as his eyes scanned the sight before him. He leaned forward, his lips brushing over the soft skin of your inner thigh. Carefully, he sucked a trail of marks all the way up to the top of your thigh, determined to ensure you would remember the moment long after it passed. You reached down, brushing the long locks of brown hair away from his face so you could see the whole sight with nothing standing in the way. “I thought about it all of the fucking time.” You let out a shallow breath, watching as his mouth turned inwards towards your cunt.

Your stomach twisted into knots as you watched his tongue dart over his bottom lip, the anticipation killing you the longer he withheld his tongue from you. Without any further words, he leaned forward, unable to wait any longer and let his tongue connect with your core. Starting at your entrance, he let his tongue flatten against you, slowly moving it upwards through your folds until it landed on your clit. He took in a sharp breath before moving his tongue downwards and repeating the action for a second time. When his tongue settled over your clit again, he moved away just for a moment.

“You taste so fucking good, angel.” He rasped, his fingers tightening on your hips as he savored the taste of your arousal on his tongue. It was even better, knowing that he was the reason behind it. “Just as sweet as I thought you would be.”

A pathetic little whine fell from your lips, your face burning and your heart pounding in your chest as he lowered his mouth on you again. This time, his tongue went straight to your clit, his actions full of intent. As soon as his tongue began to trace over the sensitive bundle of nerves, your entire body began to tremble. You tangled your hands in his hair, a shaky breath leaving your lips as he focused his full attention there for a moment.

It has been too long since you had sex, and everything he did felt so good. You were a mess for him before he ever took your clothes off, and you knew it wouldn’t take long before he had you exactly where he wanted you. Your eyes fluttered closed, your head falling back on your shoulders as he worked at you, drinking up every drop of arousal you had to offer. His tongue felt so soft, warm and wet against you, making every movement all the more fantastic.

The power he held over you was nearly incomprehensible. Never in your life had another person affected you so badly and deeply, in everything that he did. Every lingering glance, slight smile and even the roll of his eyes, he had you hanging off it and asking for more. Even when you thought he despised you, you couldn’t shake the temptation to reach out and try again, because even a miserable interaction with Jake was better than nothing at all. You were a fool to think that the same emotions wouldn’t carry over into sex, but with his mouth on you, working you up to an orgasm, you realized that there was nobody in the world quite like him.

He was snide, sharp-tongued and quick witted. He was an enigma, catching attention no matter where he was or what he was doing. You were so convinced he hated you because it was easier to believe than anything else; even then, with his hands on your hips and his mouth on your cunt, you could hardly believe Jake Kiszka was interested in you at all. To know he spent so long hung up on you, thinking he wasn’t good enough for you was nearly painful to imagine. He was everything, even when he wasn’t saying anything at all. He was the whole world, and it felt like you were just living in it, which was why it was so hard to exist without any type of relationship with him. You wanted Jake to know you, to like you, to think of you in the same way you thought of him when you had a moment to yourself.

He let out a hum against you, the vibration running through your whole body and furthering the waves of pleasure already washing over you. You let out a sharp moan, your fingers tightening around the locks of his hair. You laid back on the bed, careful so not as to disturb him while he worked. The new position gave you a bit more control over the motion of your hips, and a lot more pleasure. He took advantage of your new position, pulling your ass off the bed and closer to him so he did not have to lean so far forward.

He groaned against you, completely overtaken with desire and unable to hide his enjoyment as your hips moved against his tongue to meet his time. The fire in the pit of your stomach was growing at a rapid rate, taking over your entire body and causing your mind to jumble with thoughts of nothingness. You needed it more than you ever needed anything in your entire life, and he was quite aware of that as you bucked your hips forward despite his tight hold. He was encouraging you further with every flick of his tongue, and just as you thought you couldn’t take any more, he reached between your legs and added his middle and index finger to you.

Your hips jerked upwards in reaction to the curl of his fingers, which hit against the sensitive spot inside you every time he pumped them into you. You could feel him smirking against you, cocky and rightfully so as he realized how good he was making you feel.

“Oh, fuck.” You whined, your eyes squeezed shut as a particularly intense wave of euphoria took hold. Your abdomen was tense, just the same as your limbs. You felt like if you moved an inch, you would lose the pleasure he was so kindly granting you. “Jake, m’gonna cum.” You warned, feeling the sensation in the pit of your stomach grow stronger, snowballing as it spread across your skin.

He continued to pump his fingers in time with the movements, pushing you closer to the edge by the second. You pulled your leg casted over his shoulders inwards towards you, drawing him in further as he worked at you with intent. You could feel a sheen layer of sweat forming on your skin, glistening under the moonlight through the window to illuminate the sin you were engaging in. The obscenity of the display the two of you found yourselves in was a picture that would be framed in your minds forever, the memory of the event seeping into the walls and remaining there forevermore. You wouldn’t be able to rid the memory from your brain even if you wanted to, and that was okay by you, because Jake was the best that you had ever had.

With one last curl of his fingers, he sent you over the edge, the knot in your belly tightening and snapping under the pressure. Your walls squeezed around his fingers, pulling him in further as his tongue traced over your clit. You cried out for him, pleading for more and less all at the same time, pleading for mercy you knew he would not give. Your hands in his hair were pushing him away and pulling him closer all the same, and you had never felt so strung out on pleasure in your entire life.

“Oh, god.” You whined, your thighs squeezing around his head as he confined to work you through the climax. His hands on your hips, bruising the delicate skin made your heart beat only for him in that moment, living just from the generosity he was granting you and thankful to be his.

When your body relaxed against the bed, he slowed his movements, eventually pulling away from you. Although you were grateful that he didn’t push you to the point of overstimulation, you immediately missed the feeling of his tongue, grieving the loss as if it were something catastrophic.

To you, it was.

He slowly rose to his feet, his hand swiping your arousal from his chin before they dropped to his shirt, quickly unbuttoning it and throwing it to the floor. You looked up at him, in awe of his blinding beauty and unable to process anything further than that. He unbuckled his belt, pulling it from the loops in one swift motion and tossing it to the floor.

“Get up.” He ordered, his usual expression taking over his face again, but this time it seemed even more ethereal. You did as he asked, rising from the bed and to your feet. “M’sorry, angel. Been waiting so fucking long. I need to feel you.” He said, kicking his pants and his boxers to the side to join the rest of his clothes on the floor. He stepped towards you, your eyes trained on his body as you tried to sear the sight into memory forever. He was stunning, more than you ever thought he could be, and seeing all of him only made you realize how lucky you were.

His hands snaked under your dress, pulling the tight material over your head and tossing it to the floor. Now that you were fully naked, he took full advantage of the fact and let his hands wander over you as he pulled you in for a kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue, the feeling sending you feral as the pad of his thumb brushed over your nipple. You wanted to tell him he didn’t need to apologize for anything, that you needed him inside of you just as bad as he did. As your hands roamed his bare torso, you understood you didn’t have to say a word because he could feel how badly you wanted him.

He guided you to the edge of the mattress, taking a seat in front of the vanity Sam had placed at the end of the bed. He sat first, keeping his hands on your hips as he guided you towards him. With a smile, you placed your knees on either side of him, keeping a hand on the back of his neck to steady yourself.

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful. Wish you could see yourself like this.” He muttered, his head craned upwards to meet your gaze as he lined himself with your entrance. The feeling of him against you was fantastic, only growing more so as he ran his tip your arousal. He bright his cock forward, guiding himself so he could slide over your clit. Your hips moved downwards in reaction to the feeling, in search of more. The pressure of him resting against you increased, only worsening your growing need for him. “Come here, gorgeous.” He muttered, carefully guiding your hips backwards. You felt him slide through your folds again, the sensation something so different than anything you’d felt before. When he settled by your entrance again, he couldn’t wait any longer to pull you down on him.

You both let out an audible sigh of relief as he pushed inside of you, the feeling of him filling you so fantastic that you needed to take a moment to appreciate it. You weren’t used to his size, but the stretch of your walls as he pulled your hips down to meet his was fantastic.

“So fucking tight,” he muttered, his nose brushing yours as your forehead rested against his own. “Feel even better than I imagined.” He confessed, his hands trailing up your torso and tickling your skin. You began to move your hips, starting with a slow pace while you both grew comfortable with each other.

You weren’t sure why, but the thought of him imagining the two of you in such a way was enough to get you off all by itself. It affected you so much, you couldn’t help but bring it up with him.

“Yeah?” You hummed, maintaining a slow roll of your hips against him. The ends of your hair tickled the skin of your back, tangling with his fingers as he held your chest to his. “You thought about me like this? Just like this?” You continued, adding a little extra force to your hips as you came down on him.

“All of the time, Y/N.” He said, one hand reaching around you and landing on your ass. His fingers tightened against you, his palm settling directly on the curve of your ass. “Thought about how good that pretty little cunt would feel wrapped around me every fucking night.” He confessed, leaning forward and capturing you in a kiss. He pulled your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down with just enough force to cause your hips to stutter while they moved against him. “Takes everything in me not to take you upstairs and fuck you every time I see you.”

“I thought about you too.” You whined, your eyes fluttering closed as you focused on the feeling of him inside of you. You were without shame anymore, knowing that the two of you were finally on the same page. He thought about you just as much as you thought about him, he wanted it just as bad as you did, and you felt no need to hide it from him.

“Yeah?” He asked, thrilled at the sound of your words despite already knowing as much. His hand on your ass was guiding you down further every time you moved your hips, adding just a little more pressure to the already overwhelming sensation. “Did you play with yourself while you thought of me, angel?” He asked, his lips hovering over your ear as he spoke. The low tone sent a shiver down your spine, and his warm breath on your skin sent goosebumps rising across your entire body. Your hand on his shoulder tightened, but you did not confirm or deny the fact. “Come on, don’t be shy.” He coerced you to answer, leaning forward and gently pulling your earlobe between his teeth. “Want to know all of your dirty little secrets, beautiful.”

“I-I did,” you stuttered, clenching around him ever so slightly. He was impossible to resist and denying him the truth seemed more painful than confessing.

“So I was the one keeping you up at night?” He asked, a little breathless as he spoke as if the idea sent him spiraling. “My name on your lips as you imagined it was me touching you instead? And I wasn’t even there to hear how fucking desperate you were.” He said the second part with a hint of disappointment, as if he was grieving the loss without ever knowing he missed out. “You’re breaking my heart, angel.” He muttered, pushing your hair away from your neck as he pressed a kiss atop the darkening marks he’d already left behind.

“M’sorry, sir.” You pleaded, unsure why you were apologizing but doing so because you were terrified he might stop. He was silent for a moment, his tongue grazing your skin. The saltiness on the tip of his tongue seemed to drive him mad, his stature rigid and his chest heaving with every breath.

“Turn around for me, sweetheart.” He said, ignoring your apologies as his eyes focused on the mirror in front of him. He felt selfish being the only one who could appreciate the view of the scene you found yourselves in.

You slowed your movements, pulling away from him as you complied with his request without hesitation. Slowly, you got to your feet, turning around so you were facing the large vanity mirror as well. He reached out, his hands landing on your hips as he guided you back towards him. You placed your legs on either side of him, feeling him reach between your bodies to line himself back up with you. Once he knew you were comfortable, he pulled your upper half towards him, your back pressed against his chest as he slowly lowered your hips onto him.

“Want you to see how pretty you look when I fill you.” He muttered, pulling you down until he filled up you completely. A shaky breath left your lips as the tip of his cock brushed against your g-spot, the sight almost too much for you to handle. He reached up, brushing your hair from your shoulders and pulling it all to one side. He draped it over one side of you, his chin nestling on the opposite shoulder as you began to move against him again.

With the new position, you could see everything. The furrow of his brow as he bargained with the pleasure of feeling you, his clenched jaw as he tried to keep himself calm, and more importantly, you could see him fucking into you, every time your hips raised and sank back down on him. It was almost too much to take, the sight so obscene yet so beautiful all at once. His hand snaked between your legs, his middle finger resting over your clit as he began to trace slow circles around it. Your legs trembled as you tried to keep a steady pace, the burning in your belly reaching a new level as you watched his lust-crazed eyes, never daring to look away from you.

“This is what you fantasized about, sweetheart?” He asked, making you understand the real reason he switched the position. He wanted you to remember, to know exactly what it looked like as he fucked you, so you had something to think about the next time your mind wandered when you were alone.

“Yes, sir.” You whimpered, your entire body ablaze with emotion. You’d never felt so good, and you’d never felt so alive. Sex with Jake was phenomenal, something so filthy that it only existed in the darkest depths of your mind, even when he wasn’t doing much at all. The closeness was enough to drive you insane, and the pleasure was enough to put you in the grave. His stern demeanor was infuriating outside of the bedroom, but seemed to further his charm as soon as his clothes were off.

“Want you to think about it every time you play with that pretty pussy.” He growled, his hips raising off the bed to meet yours in a moment of high emotion. You let out a muffled yelp, biting down on your lip to silence the sound as it passed through you. “If that’s still not enough, you just let me know. I’ll be happy to take care of her, whenever you need me.” He assured you, his teeth sinking into the skin of your shoulder. The miniscule pain from the action only furthered the knot tightening in your belly. You needed to let go, to show him how good he was making you feel. You needed it more than anything you’d ever needed in your life. The pressure of his jaw slackened, and you felt his tongue gently trace the skin his teeth had marked, soothing the slight irritation he left behind.

A moan fell from your lips, loud and telling of the surplus of pleasure coursing through your body. His finger continued to trace your clit, relentless and unapologetic as he tried to pry another orgasm from you. It was becoming harder to focus, the sensation quickly turning into the only thing you could think about. You watched his face in the mirror, studying the beauty of the man below you. He was concentrated, certain of what he wanted and unwilling to stop until he got it. As you contined to watch him, you understood that his eyes were no longer trained to your face, and instead his gaze had fallen downward, settled on the exact spot where the two of you met. Your stomach burned as you realized he was watching himself fuck into you, the simple idea pushing you just a little closer to the edge.

“You going to cum for me again, angel?” He asked, his tone sickly sweet as if you had a choice in the matter. He wasn’t going to stop until you did, and the question only served as a catalyst in his ever growing ego problem.

Perhaps you were the real catalyst in the equation, because you seemed to lack any self control when it came to him, and you wouldn’t dare deny him of a single wish.

“Yes, sir.” You groaned, your eyes closing and your head falling towards the floor. You felt like you had no control over your body, your movements only made to further the pleasure he was already giving you. It was necessity rather than want; you were tired, but you couldn’t fathom stopping. You wanted to exist in the moment for the rest of your life, never letting him go and never worrying about anything else.

“Look at me.” He growled, his hand raising to your face. He clamped your cheeks between his fingers, forcing your head back upwards to face the mirror. Your body was overtaken with euphoria by the harshness of his actions, the feeling of his hand tightly holding your face adding the extra little bit of pleasure needed to send you over the edge. “Watch how good you look when you cum for me.”

“Oh, fuck.” You whimpered, your movements stuttering as the sensation became too much to withstand.

“That’s it,” he rasped, continuing to hold your head in place. “That’s my fucking girl.” The possessive claim sent you spiraling, the term too much to bear in combination with everything else he was doing to you.

Your walls squeezed around him, pulling him in further and locking him there as your second orgasm washed over you. He raised his hips off the bed, continuing the same pace as your body froze in place. His finger on your clit never faltered, ensuring that you got the most out of the orgasm. He continued to whisper the sweet nothings in your ear, praising you for the show you were putting on as profanities fell from your lips. Your cheeks were red, your face hot as the sensation infiltrated every nerve in your body. Your eyes remained locked on the two of you, soaking in every detail as he worked you through the climax, admiring him as he remained so tentative as you unravelled around him.

Before the pleasure fully subsided, you could feel him shift underneath you. His finger moved from your clit, instead his hand holding your hips as he began to stand. He held you as he stood, guiding you upright with him without ever pulling out of you. Your mind was foggy and your limbs weak as you barely worked to help him, but he didn’t care about the lack of support. He was crazed enough from the look on your face that something superhuman took hold. He pushed you forward, closer to the vanity as his eyes stayed locked on your face.

You raised your hands to the cabinet, knowing his course of action before he ever began. You began to regain your wits at the same time as he pushed your upper half down towards the wooden surface. Your chest landed on the frigid surface, sending a shock through your body as you felt it. He reached upwards, his hand gathering your hair and knotting it around his fist as he began to move his hips. The new position allowed for much more freedom, and much more control. As much as he enjoyed the slowness as you grew familiar with the feeling of him inside you, he could only give up control for so long before he went insane.

“Being so good for me, sweetheart. Just a little bit longer, okay?” He pleaded, his hips slamming forward. A guttural moan tore through your chest, the pain and pleasure mixing together to create a whole new kind of feeling for you. You were tired, nearly fucked out and ready to go to sleep, but if he wanted it, so did you. You would do anything to please him and you would enjoy it while you did so.

“Y-yes, sir.” You complied, your eyes squeezing shut as you tried to fight of the irritating overstimulation trying so hard to take hold. “Whatever you want, sir.” You added, finding that talking was helping you come back to your senses a little more.

“Fuck, baby.” He hissed, his hand coming down on your ass with a force that sent your knees weak. The ring on his middle finger sent an aching pain across the flesh, but it was so addicting you barely thought twice about it. The stinging sensation spread across your skin, the redness already beginning to darken where his palm came in contact with you. “Take it so fucking good.” He praised, his dark eyes still watching your expression in the mirror. Your eyes fluttered open to meet his gaze, the desperation to please him evident and doing nothing but furthering the frenzy he was stuck in.

“F-feels so fucking g-good.” You gasped, stuttering the words out through a mess of moans. You raised your hips a little higher, sinking your upper half down so he could reach a whole new angle inside of you.

“Such a little whore.” He commented, tugging at your hair and forcing your head upwards. Your eyes raked over your reflection in the mirror, barely recognizing yourself so strung out on pleasure. “Do you like being a whore for me, angel?”

“I love it.” You confessed, your heavy-lidded stare burning into him. “Only for you, sir.” You added, ensuring he knew that now, he was the only one who would ever have access to that side of you.

“That’s right.” He affirmed your statement, his words gruff as his movements grew sloppy. He was being pulled in to the same euphoria you’d experienced at his hands only moments before, the sensation taking hold and growing impatient with him. He needed it, and after his generosity, you would do anything to get him there. “This is all for me now, sweetheart. Nobody else gets to see you like this.” A high pitched whine echoed through the room, confirming his feelings on the matter without any words needing to be spoken at all. You wanted to be his; you didn’t want anyone else to have you like that, ever again. He brought out a side of you that you barely knew to exist, and the thought of letting it go was grievous. “Do you understand me?” He growled, knowing you did but eager to hear it anyway.

“Yes, sir.” You panted, watching as wrinkles formed between his brows, showing you just how hard he was trying to hold back.

“Want to hear the words, baby.” He pressed further, his pace bruising and making it difficult to formulate the statement he wanted you to say. Another moan tore through you, your throat raw as it passed through. You were on the brink of another orgasm, so close but it seemed just out of reach.

“I’m all yours, sir.” You promised, pushing your hips back towards him to meet the time of his thrusts. As his cock slammed into your cervix, your knees went weak below you, threatening to collapse under your weight. He noticed the change in your posture, immediately slipping his arm under your hips to hold you upright.

No matter the circumstance, he wanted you to know that you would never have to worry about falling so long as he was there to catch you.

“Fuck, you feel good.” He let out a strained sigh, his face contorting into an expression of pleasure. He was close, but he wasn’t willing to give in until he gave you one last orgasm.

To you, the thought alone was ridiculous; after everything he’d already done for you, you couldn’t imagine him holding back any longer.

“S’okay, baby.” You breathed, catching his eye so he could see the sincerity in your face. “Want you to cum for me.” You said, your words hitting him like a brick. It seemed to cause a short circuit in his brain, the role switch sending him spiralling in an instant.

You could feel him pull out of you, both of you knowing he couldn’t push himself any further. Something seemed to take over you as he did so, unfamiliar but not unwelcome. You spun around, facing him and quickly dropping to your knees before him. You were nearly saddened at the thought of such an anticlimactic end for him, and the feeling forced you to take action as you moved your head forward and took him into your mouth. You could taste yourself on him as you bobbed your head down to take his full length, the simple fact causing the ache between your legs to worsen beyond anything it had already been that night. You missed the feeling of him inside you, but you were more eager to please him than you were to satisfy yourself.

He looked down at your face, shock written across his features as he processed your sudden change. It didn’t take long for the surprise to be forgotten, especially as his tip hit the back of your throat. His hand reached down, holding your hair in his hand so he did not have to miss a single detail of your face. The warm wetness of your mouth was just as inviting as your cunt, and the sensation furthered his pleasure as if he’d never pulled out of you at all. He didn’t want to push you, afraid that you might not be able to handle the same intensity in the newest position, but when you pushed your head further down on him and his cock slid down your throat, he quickly understood that you were willing to take whatever he wanted to give you.

His hips bucked forward in response to the feeling, and you forced yourself to swallow, your throat constricting around him and effortlessly sending him over the edge. At the same time, the most beautiful sound fell from his lips, gracing your ears and settling deep in the pit of your stomach.

For a moment, you felt like you could get off on the sound of his pleasure alone.

His posture slipped slightly as his orgasm washed over him, his release spilling down your throat as he held you to him. You moved your head against the force of his hand, your tongue moving against the underside of his cock as you swallowed back every last drop of him. A strangled cry left his lips as he pulled back, his hips jutting forward again as you ran your tongue over his tip. The saltiness lingered on your lips, making your mouth water and leaving you wanting more. In that moment, there wasn’t a single thing you wouldn’t do for the man standing before you.

“Get up.” He spat, his shoulders still heaving with his breaths. Your eyes flickered upwards, catching his gaze as you withdrew your head. His tip fell from your lips with a slight popping sound, and you couldn’t bite back the smirk forming on your lips. “You think you can do something like that and finish it there?” He growled, watching as you rose to your feet. He was not angry, and not a single part of his face gave you that impression. He was enamoured with you, unable to walk away without at least thanking you for the service, and he was completely beside himself with desire. “Turn around. I’m not fucking done with you, yet.”

You did as he asked, spinning back around to face the mirror. You sunk back to the position you were in moments before, your hands clamped around the edge of the wooden dresser. Instead of returning to his earlier position, he sunk to his knees similar to how you had done for him, his head between your legs and within seconds, his tongue connecting with your core.

He got straight to the point, so far gone he didn’t even care to tease you anymore as his tongue settled over your clit. Your hips moved back to meet his mouth, in desperate search of more and he barely even started. You were too far gone to care, much similar to him, and your body was still abuzz with the pleasure he had already granted you that night.

“Fuck, Jake.” You cried, your voice raspy and your tone breathy as your eyebrows knitted together in pleasure. His movements were different than before, more messy and much less calculated, but it almost made the entire ordeal even more enjoyable. The knowledge that he was completely feral for you alone was overwhelming, and the fact he was pleasuring you solely because he enjoyed it was something you’d never experienced before. “Please don’t stop, baby.” You pleaded, your heart thudding against your chest and your face hot with emotion. He moaned against you, assuring you he would never even dream of it. The sound appeared much more animalistic than it was before. His hands raised, grabbing your hips and pulling you back towards his face. He was working at you with desperation, like he needed it just as bad as you did.

Your stomach was tense, your legs trembling as his fingers bruised your skin. You were so close, too far gone to care about keeping yourself quiet and without a care in the world about the marks he was leaving on your body. You wanted to remember it, to wake up in the morning and see the dirty details of the night lingering on your skin. In days to come, you wanted to think of the night every time you took your clothes off, living in the feeling of being his just for a moment longer.

“Jake!” You cried, your knuckles white from your grip on the vanity. Your body ached with exhaustion, but you were in such desperate need of another climax that not even that could deter you. He hummed against you, the warmth of his tongue and the vibration of the sound working together to push you closer to the edge. You could barely think straight, your skin tingling with pleasure every time he moved. You worried that you might not survive the fall, the orgasm barreling towards you faster than you could comprehend. Then again, with him holding you, you had a lingering sense of comfort, like you could survive anything so long as he was there to support you through it.

With one last flick of his tongue, you were pushed over the edge and there was no coming back. A strangled whine tore through your chest, your legs locking in place as the sensation took hold. You were crying his name, begging him for something he couldn’t give, because not even you knew what you needed. He didn’t even think of moving away, working you through the process until you rode out the high, and even then he felt like he had to force himself away from you.

When you relaxed against him, you could barely keep your eyes open. You were so tired, so ready to curl up in bed with him by your side. You wanted to sleep soundly, so much so that you could forgo the conversation about what the two of you were and deal with it in the morning. You expected him to feel the same, but he rose to his feet with a whole new surge of energy overtaking him. Wordlessly, he helped you stand upright, spinning you around once more by your hips, but he didn’t let go this time. Instead, he lifted you up, similar to how he did earlier that night but with much more strength due to the lust working to his advantage. You wrapped your legs around him, exhausted but still able to comply to his demands. Your mind was elsewhere, your body working solely to please him as he held you to him with one hand. His other reached out, carelessly clearing the surface of the vanity with one swipe of his arm. The few items toppled over and landed on the floor, and he sat you down on the edge of it.

“I know you’re tired angel, but I need to feel you again. I can’t fucking help myself.” He explained, reaching between you and running his tip through the wetness still lingering between your legs. He was still achingly hard, in dire need of relief again despite his last orgasm only being moments before. Your eyes were drooping so close to closed, but as his cock drifted over your clit, your hips grinded forward into the feeling, in search of the very thing that might be the death of you.

Slowly, he thrusted himself forward, his dick falling into position and slowly pushing inside of you again. Unprotected sex was risky, especially after his previous orgasm, but neither of you seemed to care a bit about it, too desperate to be close to each other again. The sensation of him inside you was too much, the stretch of your walls as he filled you again so much more daunting than the last time. Still, despite your body screaming with overstimulation, you couldn’t deny how right it felt to have him so close.

“You can take it, baby. I know you can.” He encouraged, beginning a slow rock of his hips against you. The newest position allowed for a whole lot more intimacy, and you would be lying if you said you weren’t completely living for it. Your arms raised, locking around his neck and pulling him closer. “Being so, so good for me, baby.” He praised, his hands traveling over your bare back to pull your chest closer to him.

You were completely fucked out, and you had no idea how he was still going. You had a hard time imagining that you had such an effect on him, but the proof was in his actions. This time around, he was much more generous with his sweet side, and had much less control over the sounds falling from his lips. He was desperate, acting as if the control was in your hands despite his dominant aura, like he would die if he couldn’t have you for just a little longer. You never thought Jake Kiszka would be the one before you, pathetically needy and unable to resist the temptation, but you were so glad it ended up that way.

“Come here.” You muttered, pulling his face closer so you could kiss him. The taste of you on his lips still lingered, something that you were growing more used to as time went on. The sweetness of his kiss was nearly too much to bear, a pitiful moan slipping into his mouth as he continued to fuck into you. You were a mess for him, willing to let him do whatever he pleased. The best part about it was that he felt the exact same for you in the moment.

Your tongue glided over his bottom lip, begging for more attention from him. His lips parted slightly, allowing you to slip it into his mouth. The kiss was sloppy, the salvia shared between the two of you soaking your lips and coating the upper part of your chin, but it was addictive. The messiness of the action only made it even more so, and you couldn’t seem to get enough of him.

His chest was pressed against yours, his heart beat wild and matching your own. The dampness from the sweat on your skin caused the two of you to stick together, forcing you to stay in the position. His hands were grasping at your body, doing all he could to bring you closer than you could possibly get, and your hands were tangled in the mess of his hair. Neither of you wanted to break apart, so you stayed just like that for as long as you could.

As you continued to kiss him, the pressure in the pit of your stomach began to rise again, this time different than the last. It had little to do with his hips moving and everything to do with the connection you felt with him. His nose brushing against yours as he did all he could to continue the kiss was euphoric, and you couldn’t believe he wanted you so badly. After so long spent thinking he hated you, the feeling of him loving you was otherworldly. He was holding you with all of the emotion he’d kept locked up for so long, the truth coming out in a climactic and emotional manner. Your legs locked around his waist, pulling him further into you as he continued to fuck you.

For a moment, you felt like you had become one, cohesive being that survived solely off the beating of each others hearts.

You knew you were at the end, that you couldn’t possibly hold anything back. All of your willpower disappeared, your body doing as it pleased and your mind having no say over it. Without confirmation, you believed in your heart that he felt the same way as you did. He could feel the flutter of your walls around him, the telltale sign that you were close to another climax. He continued his pace, never thinking of stopping even for a moment. He needed to feel you in the most primal, visceral way possible.

“Come on, angel.” He muttered against your lips, upping the force in which he was fucking into you. “One more, baby. You can do it.” His voice was strained, like he was teetering on the same edge as you were.

“You too?” You asked, pulling away just enough so you could look over his face.

“Y-yeah,” he nodded, almost embarrassed over the fact. It only seemed to further the burning in your belly, and you wanted him just as bad as he wanted you. Neither of you cared about the consequences, only the intensity of the connection between you as he fucked you closer to the orgasm. In a permissive manner, you leaned toward and pulled him into another kiss, your mouth meeting his own and telling him everything he needed to know.

A groan rattled his chest as his hands fell to your hips, pulling you closer to him as he gave in to the feeling. You did the same, feeling your skin tingle with the intensity you’d felt so many times already. This time was different, more emotional and less physical, but it was a million times better than anything you had ever felt.

Together, the two of you reached the peak, muffling every moan and cry with your mouths. His stature faltered, falling over into you slightly as you held him tightly. Your entire body trembled as the euphoria overtook you one last time, and his hips stuttered as he pulled your hips forward onto him. For the second time, he spilled his release into you, unapologetic as he worked you through your own orgasm. Your body ached from the tension in your limbs, your ribs pained from your heart pounding against them. Your hands loosened on him as you relaxed, the moment passed you by almost as quick as it came.

Reluctantly, he parted from the kiss so he could catch his breath. His forehead rested on your own, and his eyes seemed tired, but full of love. There was no more hesitation, no reluctance or indifference in his gaze. Instead, it was replaced with the emotion he was so determined to confess, and it washed over you like summer rain. It felt better than anything ever had, and you never wanted him to look at you any other way ever again.

Silence became the two of you for a few moments, neither of you having the energy to speak. He rested inside of you, completely content with holding you there as he soaked up the last bit of intimacy the moment had to offer. Your brain was abuzz with thoughts, all pertaining to him, and for once, there was nothing negative. Finally, you were at peace, completely comfortable with the man before you. It felt right. You couldn’t deny the fact, and you were over the moon with the outcome of the entire ordeal.

Eventually, he leaned forward, placing one last, gentle kiss to your lips. It was sweet, soft, and exactly what you needed to come back to earth. A small smile was tugging at his lips as he studied your face, and finally, he spoke. The words were quiet, barely noticeable over the sound of your beating heart, but you clung to them as if it were necessary for survival.

“Let me take you out to dinner. Let me do this right.” He whispered, pulling you closer to him. Your bare chest rested against his own, his arms around your waist and as he held you tightly.

“You sure Little Miss Sunshine isn’t too much for you?” You teased, a tired smile crossing your lips as you rested your forehead against his.

“Never too much for me, sweetheart.” He shook his head, looking over the entire picture before him. He had never felt so lucky in his entire life, and he was so grateful that you decided to take a chance on him even after he’d been so rude to you. As he watched your face, he realized he was almost more excited at the prospect of sleeping next to you than he was over having sex with you. “Little Miss Sunshine’s all mine, now.” He said as a matter of fact, turning his head upwards and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I can get used to that.” You breathed, unable to express just how happy you were at the sound of his words. After having him in such a way, you would be stupid to let him go.

“I think I can, too.” He smiled against you, soaking up the warmth of loving you openly. You let your eyes close, leaning against him, content with staying in the position for a little while longer. The warmth of his body was alluring, and for a brief moment, you thought you might fall asleep right there in his arms.

You couldn’t believe the night had come to such a climactic end, and you never would have thought you and Jake would end up in a position like such. You were happy, relieved even that all the years of struggling to connect turned out to be a misunderstanding at the very core. You were excited for dinner, you were excited to share a bed with him, wrapped up in his arms all night long, and you were excited to know him. Finally, you could delve into more than superficialities and small talk about the weather, and you could know the boy that always seemed to make your heart beat just a little faster.

Despite all of the new and exciting things, there was still one thing that remained true amidst the chaos, and that was the fact that under no circumstance would you ever let it slip that Sam was right, because both of you knew that you would never live it down.

[the-fluff-piece]

Invisible

This is a SAD story with no heartwarming happy end or moment of redemption. It's the middle of the night and I feel depressed, so why not write some sad fiction

You've loved Sanji for a while, but he doesn't even see you. When Nami asks to switch bodies for a day, you experience his devotion for a short while - before going back to being invisible for him

Part 2

Part 3 is actually a choose your own adventure type!

Part 3.1: Zoro or Sanji?

Part 3.2: Law or Sanji?

Also check out my stories and headcanon masterlists

You weren't sure what she was planning, but Nami assured you that it was of the utmost importance that she borrow your body for a day. She also swore by her mother's trees that it wasn't anything illegal. And also all the money you owed her would be forgotten - so it seemed overall like an acceptable deal.

She somehow blackmailed your crews ally Trafalgar Law into this to make the switch. So when you anchored at an amusement island full of casinos and shopping opportunities, you found yourself in the thin, busty, long legged body of hers.

You looked down at her - in your body - and couldn't help but frown at the small, mousy girl looking up at you with Nami's glint in her eyes.

"Thanks Y/n, take good care of my body. See you tonight!" She saluted you and sprinted off the ship with determination.

Unsure what to do, you wobbled to Nami's closet on your much to long legs that were in much too high heels. Hopefully she had something like a shirt, you felt naked in her Jeans and Bikini Top combo.

Eventually, you found a simple shirt with a round neck and some flats and felt more like yourself immediately.

Getting out into the sun, you enjoyed the feeling of a cool breeze playing with her long hair and sighed.

"Oh Nami-swaaaaan how wonderful to see you this morning! I made extra tasty breakfast for you todaaayyyy!" Sanji screamed with his usual slurred voice. It took you a few seconds to make the connection that he, indeed, was talking to you. Or Nami, wich was gone for the day.

You turned and looked at Sanji who was prancing towards you with heart eyes and an excited expression.

"May I accompany you to the table mademoiselle?" He held out his arm.

You took it, and your heart already pounded like mad in your chest. He was gorgeous, smart and charming. He was strong and kind and had dominated your thoughts since you joined the crew.

Too bad you never lived up to the standard he had for women. Small, mousy, not at all shapely or beautiful. He treated you friendly, but way too often he seemed to overlook you. And he never, ever treated you like your female crewmates.

So this felt new and exciting, his blue eyes looked at you for the first time, really seeing, even if it was not you he really looked at.

Happily, you let him walk you to breakfast and push your chair to the table that was already loaded with all kinds of the crew's favorite food.

"Y/n not coming?" He asked when one seat remained empty.

"She left for the city just a few minutes ago" you answered.

"Very well" He said and absent mindedly took the plate and cutlery away to make place.

Usually, you ate and goofed around with Usopp and Chopper, but of course, you are not here, Nami is. You've barely taken a bite out of your toast when Sanji already inquired if it's to your liking, while simultaneously barking at Luffy and Zoro to remember their manners.

"Nami-swaaan, my sunshine, my diamond, do you need anything else?" He asked, totally in love.

"Uhm, maybe a tea?" You answered, still a little perplexed. He never asked you anything like that before.

"Tea? Of course, right away my angel!" He cooed and hurried back to the kitchen, preparing the tea.

The rest of the breakfast continued just like that - Sanji asking endlessly for your wishes and getting to work immediately when you so much as whispered an answer.

Afterwards, everyone was getting ready to explore the island. You were planning to look through a few bookstores and end the day reading at a cafe.

"Nami-swaaaan, may I accompany you to the city? I will carry all your shopping bags!" He begged you eagerly.

"I don't plan on doing so much shopping..." You said with your hands raised in defense of his onslaught of affection.

"I'll just look around a bit and maybe get a book" you explained as Sanji already sank to one knee, taking your hand.

"Than I will be your bodyguard, the city is dangerous!" He informed you and like that, it was settled that he would come with you.

He wore one of his more casual outfits - a brightly colored hawaian shirt, a fitting tie and short cargo pants - so you two looked more like cringey tourists and less like pirates together.

Going with Sanji to explore the city felt almost like a date, commenting on clothing in shop windows and what would look so nice on Nami's body. You didn't plan on buying clothes that day, you didn't exactly know what she would like anyway, but he was very, very insisting that you at least try on a few things.

Unsure what to do, you left the decision to Sanji and he immediately lead you into one of the store

You tried a few things, just basic shirts and a dress, and of course it looked gorgeous on Nami. She could have worn a potatoe sack and look like a million beri. Sanji was almost swooning and loving every bit of it.

"So beautiful!" He gushed. "Nice body!" He squealed in delight. "Why don't you try this bikini?" He asked as he held up a few shreds of fabric.

"Why don't you try on something?" You asked him, already thinking what kinds of shirts or jackets would suit him best, and trying to discourage him from suggesting more revealing outfits.

____

Meanwhile at the Casino

Nami wandered past the picture of herself with the fat letters "DO NOT BELIEVE THIS WOMAN" and chuckled to herself. The owner of that chain of casinos kind of had a grudge against her, but the new face she was wearing couldn't be more inconspicuous. And she didn't directly do anything illegal, so it will be absolute fine.

-------

You

Soon, you flattered him into wearing some nice shirts that accentuated his bright eyes and slender frame. Much like Nami, he could wear pretty much anything and look fabulous, now it was your turn to gush about his looks and search for more outfits.

"Are you sure you don't want to try any more?" He asked insecurely as you handed him another suit to try. He didn't seem to be used to being on that side of the conversation, he talked softly and shyly all of a sudden.

"Do you really think this looks good on me?" He would ask again and again, revealing his sweet side even more.

"Of course, Sanji-kun! You look so handsome in that shirt." You said and saw his cheeks flush like he was a cute maiden.

"In fact, I like it so much that I'll buy it for you" eliciting an expression of pure shock from him.

"That is so nice, but what interest do you want?" He asked, already afraid that he was driven into debt. Of course, Zoro already was looking at an amount he would never pay off in his life, something Sanjin surely wanted to avoid.

"No, I really want to give you a gift. Promise!" You said and took out your purse.

"Really? A gift from my beautiful Nami-swan? I was never more happy!" He was almost crying from joy.

Leaving the store, he hummed and cuddled the fine dress shirt that you bought him, thinking it was a gift from his beloved. He looked so happy and sweet, you would love to shower him with gifts endlessly.

"How about we take a break, eat lunch at a restaurant?" You asked him, getting used to interacting with him in this new constellation. Of course he would say yes and of course he would be delighted at the chance.

"Yes, of absolutely! I'll find the best restaurant in town for you!" He promised and already started to walk towards the restaurant mile.

Like a researcher, he studied every restaurant meticulously, almost like his life depended on it. After what felt like an eternity, he finally decided for a small seaside bistro that looked not at all fancy or outstanding.

As he guided you to a table, he explained: "it may not look like much but their kitchen is filled with fresh herbs and they have few, but excellent dishes."

And he was right, it was fresh and delicious. You used the opportunity to get to know him better, since he usually didn't talk so lengthy to you.

"Tell me about yourself? A few stories from the baratie perhaps?" You asked, shamelessly nosy.

He looked like you had just gifted him the all blue on a pladder.

"You really want to know? About me?" He tentatively asked.

You nodded.

"Oh damn...where should I start? There's so many stories..." Once he started he almost couldn't stop, he seemed delighted by Nami's attention. She usually treated him politely, but held him at arms length if she didn't need anything. You felt a bit bad for changing the relationship somewhat, but you couldn't help but bask just for this one day in his company. Those blue eyes fixed on you, sparkling with joy and love, his pretty mouth telling you about his life. Moments that could be treasured long after this freak magic ended.

You hung on his lips and both of you forgot the time. He told you about the cooks that raised him, how Zeff trained him and how he went from a clueless kid to a master cook.

It felt like you got to know so many new sides to him and you fell in love with all of them. You knew that he was kind, but you didn't know that he loved animals as well. When a cute dog wandered by - telling by his round shape no doubt the villages favorite stray - Sanji absent mindedly scratched it behind the ears and gave it his leftovers.

It got late and the sun was already low in the sky.

"Time to head home, I don't want Luffy to starve tonight" He said with a chuckle.

Over already? He finally relaxed and opened up like never before, desperate to get just a few more moments with him you said: "come on, it's not that late. I bet they already bought something to eat in town. Let's search for a nice spot and watch the sunset!"

He looked speechless, the cigarette he just lit hung loosely from his lips.

"Uhm...sunset...watch...together???" He stammered in shock. "SO IT IS A DATE" he screamed and proceeded to bleed waterfalls from his nose.

No! You promised you wouldn't get Nami into trouble.

"No! No date! You know what, this is my fault, let's get back to the ship." You protested and tried to save the situation.

"What date? Who said something about a date? I just wanted to...uhm..buy some dates for dessert, yes. Let's watch the sunset as friends." He tried to save the situation.

Lucky for him, all you wanted was this moment with him, but without getting Nami into a situation she didn't want.

You found a spot on a low brick wall along the beach and watched the sun paint the sky in violet, pink and soft blue. It was calm and peaceful and you took deep breaths as you took in the beautiful scenery.

You turned to look at Sanji, but he was already staring at you, his mouth open.

"You're so God damn fucking beautiful" He whispered.

"You look like an angel..." he continued and leaned in to kiss you with heavy lidded eyes, competitively enchanted. You forgot who you were and why you were here, all that existed was this gorgeous, soft, wonderful man and you. Your eyes fluttered shut as your heart kicked into overdrive.

"Oh Nami-San" He whimpered when you could already feel his deep, nervous breaths on your face - slapping you back into reality.

This was not your kiss to have. This man didn't even want you. What you did there was deeply, deeply wrong on many levels. You jerked back, gasping, leaving Sanji to lose his balance and crash to the pavement below.

"Oh Nami-swan, your love is hitting me like a brick wall" he said, looking up at you with crossed eyes and a bleeding nose.

Panic rose inside of you - not only did you practically lie to your crewmate Sanji, you abused the body of your friend as well. You looked down her body, reminding you that none of this should be happening. You grabbed the cook at his collar and heaved him up. Emulating Nami's more demanding voice you say:

"NOTHING happened between us today, you hear me? NOTHING. We had a nice shopping tour, ate something AND THAT'S IT."

Baffled and with slightly wet eyes, Sanji nodded.

"And now we're going home." You said and dragged him to his feet. Ignoring his softly whispered questions, you stalked back to the ship on long legs that weren't yours, left a helpless and absolutely devastated Sanji on deck, and shut yourself in the girl's room

_____

Meanwhile: Nami

A broad grin in her face and a big sack of money on her back, Nami left the casino. She won - fair and square. She didn't always need to revert to robbery to get what she wanted - give her a card table and a bit of time and she wins everything just like that.

Nami was banned from all major casinos, so she didn't get to play as much. It was so much fun, she may have overdone it with the beer a little...y/n would surely understand.

_____

You

Finally, Nami came back, a very sour looking Law in her grasp. After putting everyone in the right body again, Nami gave him a brown paper envelope that he checked briefly, called her a witch, and left for good.

Crushed by guilt and feeling strangely dizzy, you confessed your guilt.

"I swear nothing really happened...I told him to forget it...I'M SO. SO. SORRY!" You collapsed at her feet as she turned in front of the mirror, admiring herself.

"Ah, thanks for the heads up. I'll deal with him, don't worry." She said, totally relaxed as she squeezed her boobs in both hands and pursed her lips, admiring the pose in the mirror.

"God, I missed these two!" She finally exclaimed and dressed in a bikini top and hotpants.

"So he'll be a little more annoying than usual. No biggie. Oh and...by the way? Maybe stay away from casinos for a few months" She said with a wink and ran down to the kitchen for dinner.

You felt like you couldn't show your face to Sanji ever again, when you remembered that you didn't spend the day with him. Nami has. And she would handle it.

You swayed down the stairs and sat down, there was no plate in front of you. Fair enough, you weren't really hungry. You watched Sanji as he carefully wooed Nami with special treats and compliments, all the while looking sad and small. When you finally decided to get up and get your own plate, he mumbled "oh sorry y/n, didn't think you were coming" barely glancing at you. "Just help yourself" He said as he pointed to the mountains of food on the table.

He stalked around Nami for the whole evening, ignoring you completely. Now that you've known how his attention and love felt, his indifference stung more than you could ever have imagined. And there was nothing you could do about it, you were just you. Not interesting.

Tears welled up in your eyes and you excused yourself hastily, fully crying before you could reach the relative privacy of the girls dorm.

You were crying over your own shortcomings, over perfect moments that would never come back, over blue eyes that would never look at you ever again, your pathetic weakness. Agitated, you threw yourself on your bed, bud were unable to fall asleep.

You decided to take a bath to feel better, and it helped, even just a little. Spending a long time relaxing in the hot water, you finally got tired and decided to give sleep another try.

As you walked back to the girls room, shriveled up like dried fruit and with ouffy eyes, you saw Sanji lean over the railing, smoking and looking out to the sea. He looked lost in thought, sad. You would have loved to comfort him, give him just the tiniest piece of happiness back, but it was pointless. He whispered something under his breath. Deciding against eavesdropping, you returned to bed and left him by himself.

-------

Epilogue

"You did quite a number on that guy. He brought me flowers this morning, can you imagine?" Nami told you, chuckling.

"White roses. He's really lost" She added, looking at you for some reaction.

"Sorry..." You muttered, your voice trailing off.

"I shouldn't have..."

"Don't feel bad, I'll be alright. It doesn't matter anyway if I'm too nice to him or kick him in the face, he'll be into me no matter what. It's annoying but harmless, and sometimes useful" She winked at you, trying to lift the mood.

"You know, it's not your fault he made it into a date. Bet he just coerced you into it, you're too nice!" Nami went on, you looked away, flushing.

"It's not like you wanted it, right?" She asked.

"Right?" She added a bit more insecurely.

"Oh." Her eyes went wide at your pained expression.

"Oh, well, uhm. An idiot like that for a nice girl like you? Nah!" She grimaced as your face darkened more and more.

"You deserve so much better! Some day you'll find the one" She talked on, slowly realising that it was not exactly making you feel better.

"Haha...sorry" She pouted.

"It's okay, I'll get over it." You answered.

"You're strong, you will." Nami patted your back and finally left.

[doumadono]

MASTERLIST

A - aftercare

Alright, you won't be left completely empty-handed, but don't expect an abundance. Katsuki will undoubtedly attend to your needs, embrace you in his arms, and take care of the essentials. However, shortly after sex, he tends to drift off into a peaceful slumber, so you have up to 10-15 minutes to capture his undivided attention

B - body part

Katsuki is particularly an ass/thighs, however his passion knows no bounds, and he could devote hours to exploring every inch of your body. The way your hips gently curve, the subtle contours of your breasts - it all drives him wild

C - cum

He has an oral fixation and enjoys doing so on or in your mouth. If he's not planning to cum on your face, he'll opt for cumming in you, inserting his fingers into your mouth for you to suck on them while he does so

D - dirty secret

He secretly enjoys being the one ridden, reveling in the sight of you on full display from all angles as you bounce rhythmically on his cock. He can easily grip your waist, guiding your movements, relishing in watching you take him in almost to the hilt. Moreover, he takes pleasure in caressing your thighs in circular motions or gently parting your ass cheeks to aid in maintaining a consistent rhythm on his throbbing dick

E - experience

He may come across as reserved, but I'd confidently say he possesses a respectable level of experience. Katsuki's well-versed in knowing how to navigate sex

F - favorite position

Bakugo never bothered with anything out of the ordinary, preferring to splay you across the bed on your back, all while maintaining unwavering eye contact from the beginning until your ultimate climax. Additionally, he has a penchant for the thrill of bending you over his desk

G - goofy

Katsuki remains consistently serious, with no playful banter between his tender words and his brutal treatment in the bedroom (or wherever he decided to fuck you, depending on his mood)

H - hair

He has a blonde happy trail that he grooms fairly often. His grooming routine is straightforward. He doesn't trim his hair extensively, but surprisingly, his hair isn't too difficult to maintain

I - intimacy

He may not fit the traditional image of romantic person, but he truly cherishes the moments you share. Bakugo likes to gaze into your eyes while he’s taking you rough, he also likes planting tender kisses on your hairline and jaw as he nears his climax

J - jack off

I'd say he doesn't engage in self-pleasure very often. He tends to conserve his energy for later, and the frequency of this varies based on his stress levels. However, when he does, he’s the classic shower jerk off guy - it's cleaner and quicker for him to reach climax that way. Interestingly, when he's under more stress, he tends to be more aggressive during these solo moments, whether you're present or not. Additionally, he's a fan of mutual masturbation as a form of foreplay

K - kinks

Marking - Katsuki has a passion for leaving his marks, whether they be hickeys or bruises, and he's not concerned about their visibility or quantity. He becomes so engrossed in the moment that he loses track of just how many he's left behind

Size - Bakugo's broad physique is something he relishes, as it gives him a sense of being your protector. Simultaneously, he takes pleasure in filling your much smaller frame so full of his cock to the point where it leaves you utterly entranced

Dirty talk - while not leaning towards overly degrading language, Katsuki enjoys using words like "dirty" or "sloppy" to heighten the excitement. He revels in hearing you beg for him, and he'll encourage you by asking if you like how deep he’s fucking you or if your tiny little hole can fit all of his cock inside. On occasion, he might playfully refer to you as his private "cockslut" or "cumdump" while fucking your brain out

Sensory deprivation - blindfolds? He's all in. Katsuki delights in observing your anticipation as you feel his teasing touches and tender kisses trace all over your body, heightening your senses

L - location

Katsuki's open to fucking you anywhere, but always with your consent. He typically aims for semi-public settings. However, it's worth noting that there are occasions when he's a bit more adventurous, like making you cockwarm him in the bathroom of a restaurant

M - motivation

His jealousy. Katsuki has zero tolerance for anyone daring to look at you. With a low, warning growl, he'd utter your name, "Y/N," in a deep, rumbling tone as you exchanged smiles with a stranger at the bar. Of course, your intentions were clear, using them as a means to an end to attain what you truly desired - your beloved, fierce boyfriend

N - no

Food play isn't really his thing. While he might consider it on occasion, it's not a major interest for him. Additionally, when it comes to sex, consent is paramount, and he strongly dislikes the notion of non-consensual roleplay, even with prior consent

O - oral

Katsuki's incredibly skilled with his mouth, thanks to his oral fixation. Going down on you feels natural to him, and he could continue indefinitely, even if his jaw starts to ache. When it's your turn to pleasure him, if you decide to surprise him while he's working - trust me, it's worth it. There are two reasons he loves it: firstly, it's a blowjob from his beloved significant other, and who wouldn't enjoy that? Secondly, it gives him a reason to return the favor. However, by "returning the favor," he means that he will indeed reciprocate but will tease you along the way by not immediately giving you what you desire. Perhaps he'll show mercy, but that depends on the day

P - pace

Bakugo can and will rail you. It starts off gently, but then everything goes downhill and he’s not holding back, like at all. If he senses any discomfort or if you're hurt in any way, he'll slow down or even pause to ensure your well-being

Q - quickie

He prefers to use them as a form of foreplay or to build anticipation until you're alone and he can fully indulge in his desires. However, there are moments when his overwhelming lust takes over, and he can't resist pulling you aside impulsively to satisfy his cravings without delay

R - risks

Katsuki is into semi-public sex for sure. He finds the most excitement in engaging in sex where he knows it's highly unlikely you'll get caught, but there's that tantalizing hint of a chance that adds to the thrill

S - stamina

Katsuki's sex drive. He wants to fuck with you everyday. The thought of waking up beside you and indulging in sex throughout the day is incredibly appealing to him. However, he understands your limitations, so he doesn't mind the occasional restraint, prioritizing your comfort and well-being

T - toys

Bakugo is not too fond of them - he prefers to get you off using his own body

U - unfair

Katsuki's a notorious tease, and how unfair he gets depends on his mood or your behavior. When he's in the mood to tease or if you've been a little naughty (or both), be prepared for him to withhold pleasure until you're driven to beg for it!

V - volume

At first, he suppresses his moans, opting for sharp, hissing inhales and expelling air from his mouth. However, as he approaches climax, he'll lean in close to your ear to spew absolute filth into it so that he can feel you clench around his cock and send him over the edge. Grunting is also a thing

W - wildcard

As indicated earlier, he just loves to keep going. Seriously, if given the chance, he could fuck for hours. Marathon sex is his forte, and he particularly relishes the state your body is in by the end – it only fuels his desire to continue

X - x-ray

He's around 7 ½ to 8 inches, and the noticeable thickness and prominent veins provide a significant sensation of stretch during sex

Y - yearning

Never lets on just how much he wants you. He would rather have you come to him instead so he doesn’t look that needy but he wants to be balls-deep in you practically all the time. I'll repeat it - his sex drive!

Z - zzz

As mentioned earlier, after 10-15 minutes, he's ready to drift off to sleep. We're all familiar with his sleeping habits though 🤣 Bakugo is also a clingy sleeper, so he'll naturally hold onto you and prefer you as his little spoon

[chrollohearttags]

Eren fucking us in the Grammys bathroom before winning his reward. 😵‍💫

bro I’m sliding down the wall!! 😵‍💫😵‍💫 why did this exact thought cross my mind? Say no more.

cw: public and mirror sex, gagging, breeding, choking

it was a night in music that had been long celebrated since its inception many decades ago. Some would consider it the pinnacle of one’s musical success and a crown achievement in their career. The 54th Annual Grammy Awards, where some of the industry’s biggest stars would make an appearance. Including (y/n) (l/n) and your very talented husband, EJ, who happened to be nominated for four different awards this year; ranging from best songwriter, album of the year and even song of the year. It was a huge honor, considering that he wasn’t much for award shows and he was fairly low key. Not to mention, he just didn’t give a fuck about these events all that much…especially when his trophy was already on his arm. From the moment you came down the steps in that Mugler gown that fit like a glove, watching your hips sway as you walked on the red carpet and even left the print of your lipstick on his cheek before getting out of the limo..the only thing at the forefront of his mind was how badly he wanted to finish this up and get you alone. Too bad, he wasn’t much in the way of waiting and instead, whisked you away to the first vacant restroom, bent you over the sink and shoved his dick inside of you. The hem of that thousand dollar dressed clutched in his fist as his pants resided at his hips.. “ha!—ah..eren..fuck..” crying out in a choked up moan; watching your own expression contort through fluttering eyes, trying your best to keep them in the front of your head. But that was all but impossible feeling your husband beat your pussy sore in the bathroom of this prestigious event! He could care less about the whole politicking and who was who..not when he could relentlessly rut his hips and let your soaking heat clamp around him. With your leg hiked up against the marble countertop, Eren snaked a hand around your throat..the fractals of his AP beaming underneath the soft lighting as he choked you out; eventually fucking your pretty little mouth with two fingers to quell and quiet you. “Gotta be quiet, baby..don’t want anyone hearing us, do you?” Ironically stating, considering the fact your skin was smacking and the sound echoed throughout the empty stalls. He was trying his hardest not to smear your makeup or mark you up too much but god, he couldn’t restrain himself. Not when you felt so fucking good..dripping all down his shaft and only seconds from squirting everywhere. That plump ass being thrown back on his pelvis as well. Panting, moaning and whimpering, you’d look back at him with a sneaky expression..knowing he wouldn’t be able to resist that stare. “..let ‘em listen…I don’t give a fuck.” It seemed that was all the motivation he needed to fill you full and send you out into that crowd full of his seed. Jutting forward, he’d slam his base into your backside; speeding up his movements as he were getting closer. The pulsation of his member resonating throughout your walls. “Well if it’s like that, princess…lemme hear it then..” with that hand still clutching you, he’d lean over and nip at your ear, whispering into it while speeding up. “Who’s pussy is this? Tell me who that shit belongs to..” growling and grunting with those tight nerves flexing around him. Hoping you’d give him that final push and once you answered, Eren folded faster than you could get the words out of your mouth. “You, daddy..it’s yours.” With your faces pressed together, meshed for a messy, sloppy kiss..he’d make a couple more unrhythmic strokes before you felt that warm nut spill into that slippery sex. You both came simultaneously..letting you become before you parted ways. There was a huge grin plastered across his face and a fucked out, slutty expression over yours. That was the most intense quickie you’d ever had but that was only a teaser..a taste of how the remainder of the night would go once you finished up here. Giving you a soft pat on the ass before you two pulled yourselves together. “Don’t worry, baby. I got more for you once I win these awards. Let’s hurry up so I can get you all the way up out that dress.”

[the-ace-with-spades]

(another unfinished post i found on the way to glasgow - that was the longest train ride in my life - I'm sorry in advance)

When Ice finally passes away, at the age of 73, in his sleep, Bradley moves Mav into their house the same day.

He gets the call in the morning, while trying to simultaneously cook Jake's breakfast and try to make their daughter put on a rain jacket. It's not Mav, but someone from the hospital. Jake doesn't know this — Bradley's face twitches only for a second and then he's back to the nagging, relaxing tone and telling their daughter it's raining and it won't stop. Jake only finds out when he comes back home from the school drop-off and Mav is already there on their couch. Jake doesn't even get the full explanation until that night, just a quick, "Ice passed away overnight."

There's only their three youngest living with them at the time — their 18-year-old daughter who attends UC San Diego, and their 15-year-old son who is still in high school, and their 7-year-old daughter — so Mav takes one of the vacant bedrooms.

The first few nights, Bradley sleeps in the same bed with him. Neither of them looks like they get much sleep. They don't really eat, either, just drink coffee and nibble on the crackers.

The kids start coming back home, and their oldest helps Jake arrange most of the things for the funeral, at least for the first few days. Mav is... numb, not really there, and Jake understands — he would, too, if he woke up one day and his husband died in his sleep next to him. Bradley is silent, mostly, the way he usually rambles to fill out the silence, the way he hums, the way he sings at any given time when there are no words spoken, it's all gone and Jake doesn't know how to fill out the silence either, how to ask, how to make it better without asking.

Bradley doesn't cry, or at least not the way he knows Mav does — he can see Mav's red eyes every morning — but there's something empty in his gaze, in the way his eyes follow Mav and in the way he melts whenever Mav is around, always close, always brushing against him. Mav spaces out a lot, doesn't talk much, doesn't—well, doesn't do much. Every time he tries to help with something, paperwork, the funeral arrangements, the hospital bills, even just sorting out the kids' school leave or Jake's own work leave, he fumbles a bit, not really able to focus on anything for long, and it's like his mind is completely scrambled. Jake doesn't know how to help him — doesn't know if they even can.

The kids, well, did not take it well, as expected. The oldest two try to be brave and help Jake with everything, keep the house going, but their youngest daughter doesn't really understand why her pops isn't back, the middle kids don't understand why now — Ice was in remission, in good health, would go hiking with them once a month, play with them in the backyard, talking about plans for the future with them, nothing that would tell them to expect their pops passing away. Mav and Ice had taken care of all of them for years, while Jake and Bradley were still deployable, and helping out as much as they could. Ice was a huge part of their lives, since the very beginning.

Bradley is certainly not doing any better but one couldn't be able to tell if they didn't know him well enough. He's always been more for packing his feelings into a tight neat box, compartmentalizing until there is too much and it all overflows in some explosive way. His focus is mostly on Mav and the kids, trusting Jake to take care of anything he can't.

Jake can't even ask him how he's doing until the night before the funeral.

Mav tells Bradley he wants to be alone that night and Bradley lands in their bedroom.

He acts normal — checks the kids are in bed, checks on Mav, prepares stuff for breakfast in the morning, has a shower. Only when he sits down in their bed, their dress blues, cleaned and pressed sitting on the hangers hooked up on their wardrobe, right in front of him—only then he freezes, a blank stare still on the uniforms.

Jake sits down next to him on the bed. "Talk to me, Bradley."

"I knew it was going to happen at some point, I just," "I just thought we would have a few more years."

Bradley sleeps curled up on his chest — he sleeps the whole night, soundlessly, and Jake is almost settled.

Almost. Mav is a couple doors down, alone.

Ice's been—had been retired many years now, but he had been high enough in the ranks that the Navy still insists on making a military funeral. Jake tried to take away as much of the flashy bullshit as possible, but there are still things leftover — the sailors with the flag, the flyover. But there's no one who wasn't close with the family at the ceremony, there's no speeches, and no one tries to hand either Mav or Bradley a flag.

The wake has an even smaller amount of people, all packed in their house — Mav hasn't been at his own house since — and thanks to Slider, mostly, and his 'the bastard wouldn't want us to mope around', it's less sad and quiet.

Mav eats two slices of cake, which is the most Jake's seen him eat since, and even laughs at some stories about Ice people are exchanging.

Ice had a good life. A big family. A big happy family that loved him.

But life goes on without him. Jake goes back to work first, then the kids have to go back to school, then Bradley has to back to work. After a couple of days alone at their house, Mav starts bringing up moving back to his own house.

He's not really doing great. He's still quiet, still spaces out more often than not, still forgets himself sometimes, still freezes whenever he tries to say something and the we he uses is one person short. He's—lifeless, for a lack of better word, and seems like he's noticing it now that Bradley isn't with him most of the waking hours.

"That is our home," Mav tells them. "I can't abandon it forever, I'd be abandoning him, too, if I—"

Jake—Jake gets it. He doesn't like it, but he gets it.

Bradley's been fielding off any suggestions of Mav moving out but he's pretty sure that soon Mav is going to pack his stuff and up and leave without asking for permission.

"If he wants to move back home, we can't exactly hold him here. against his will."

"Jake," Bradley says. "I feel like—if we let Mav go back there alone, he's going to die of a broken heart and I won't have either of them anymore."

"Sweetheart—"

"I know it's selfish," he interrupts, "but I can't lose him, too. Not now."

Jake can't make Mav stay with them — so he finds the best solution he can and instead, they all move in with Mav. Hell with it, he's going to try to get everyone to live their lives to the end. They'd done it before, Mav, Ice, Bradley, Jake and their two kids under one roof, when their oldest two were their only two kids.

The two of them and two of their youngest; two of their kids move into their house so they don't have to sell it.

Mav lives on. They try to occupy his mind by throwing their youngest at him — ask him to take her to school, pick her up from school, take her to her gymnastics class, do her homework with her, teach her how to play piano. The other kids pick up on it, too, and their high schoolers would wrap Mav into doing math workbooks with them, or ask him to drive them to their friends' house, and the kids that have moved out ask Mav to go to lunch together or call him to ask him things about car and house repairs that don't exist.

Mav gets brighter every day. Never as bright as before, but no longer so numb.

Their daughter ends up never moving out and so do they.

They all get older but Mav holds up pretty well. He does break his hip when trying to wash the windows, had a limp and terrible back ache ever since, had to stop driving because he can't see shit, had to stop piloting even sooner, and his memory is also shit, but Jake is pretty sure his cholesterol is lower than his own and he has better blood pressure than Bradley. Bradley and Mav are the ones cooking after all, Jake is the one eating all the tasty but not healthiest food, and Mav's life revolves around spoiling his cute great-grandkids and Bradley's is filled with the constant stress of managing Navy's top flying school.

For his ninetieth birthday, Mav flies a fighter jet as a passenger, the oldest person to ever do that — his youngest granddaughter is the one to take him up in the air, a junior grade lieutenant herself. They have a birthday party held at their house, Mav falls asleep in the armchair, Bradley makes fun of him and promptly falls asleep on the couch, too. Jake loves them both so much and still kind of can't believe he has this — house full of grown-up kids and grandkids of his own, his graying husband of over thirty years, his father-in-law coming to an age he wanted to see his mother at.

They're cleaning up, their two daughters who still don't have kids and didn't need to go home helping, and Mav tells them he's going to get some fresh air on their veranda. "I've got a terrible headache," is all he says.

Half an hour passes, they've packed all the clean and dirty dishes, and Bradley huffs to himself. "He fell asleep on the bench again, didn't he," and goes outside.

Bradley shouts for him in less than a minute. The ambulance is there in eight. Within the half-hour and a CT scan in the hospital, the neurologist tells them Mav is too far gone to survive the day. Within six hours, every single person from their family has come to say goodbye. When they pass the seven hours mark, Jake stands up from the plastic chair behind Bradley — he's not about to tell Bradley he should rest, but he's been holding Mav's hand since the minute they admitted Mav to the ward and hasn't eaten or drunk anything all day. He tells him he'll go grab them a coffee and bagels and gets a little nod and a smile.

Jake comes back twenty minutes later and Bradley doesn't even look up from where he's gripping Mav's hand.

"Can you get the nurse for me?"

[tlou-reid]

‘Tis the Damn Season ❆ Emily Prentiss

☃︎ SUMMARY: emily is called away to work during her once-a-year opportunity.

☃︎ WARNINGS: steamy make out, illusions to smut, angst

☃︎ swiftmas masterlist

.｡❅⋆⍋∞｡∞⍋⋆❅｡.

Sleep in half the day, just for old time’s sake

You didn’t know what was more full: your heart or your stomach. The breakfast, if anyone can call a meal at 2pm breakfast, Emily had made was phenomenal, and exactly what you needed after last night.

This was simultaneously your favorite and least favorite part of the year. Despite everything that happens throughout the year, no matter how many loves gained or how many loves lost throughout it, you always ended up back here.

You came back to visit your family in Virginia every year for Christmas and New Year’s. It was the one time of year that, no matter what, you returned to your home town.

And, consequently, to Emily Prentiss’ bed.

“You liked it?” Emily asked as she washed the dishes. You were sat up on her counter, drying them as she handed them to you. You nodded, “You know pancakes are my favorite!” She giggled at your excitement. You didn’t have to remind her about pancakes being your favorite. She knew that. She knows everything, she always has.

You wished you could’ve given your relationship more when you had the chance. You were offered a very well-paying job across the country and couldn’t say no. It was heartbreaking for both of you, but with this new opportunity and Emily traveling with the BAU all the time, it made sense.

If you would’ve known how you feel about it now back then, you would’ve thrown sense out the window and stayed in Virginia, with her.

After cleaning up, you both made your way to the couch, throwing on some random show for background noise. It didn’t take long for you two to become intertwined, meeting at your lips.

Your heart started racing as her hands covered the expanse of your torso. Her touch was both familiar and foreign. The way she moved and squeezed on your flesh was exactly how you remembered, but the calluses and aged skin was new to you.

Your pajama shirt was tossed under her bay window, and her lips moved down your neck. You sighed in pleasure, relaxing into her. She used her body weight to gently lay you down, holding her body over you by resting on her forearms. “Em,” you moaned as she sucked a particularly sensitive spot on your neck. You could feel her smile against you. Her knee rested between your thighs, allowing you the friction you’d been looking for.

One of her hands began moving down your chest, moving to the waistband of your sweatpants. Emily wasn’t going to waste time taking them off, trailing down to your clothed pussy.

Her hand drew delicate lines up and down your slit as you let out another shaky moan. “Em,” you whined again, “stop-“. You were going to tell her to stop teasing, but the ringing of her phone interrupted her. You knew it was her work phone from the serious ringtone, as opposed to the Pitbull song that plays on her personal.

I won’t ask you to wait, if you don’t ask me to stay.

Her hand pulled away, then her body. You expected to feel warm, or empty, but that never came.

“Prentiss,” she spoke into the phone, knowing she was going to have to leave. Emily intentionally positioned herself away from you, feeling too guilty to meet your eye. “I’ll be there in twenty,” She promised the person on the other line, then hung up.

She took a deep breath before turning to you. She didn’t have to say anything, you both knew that.

Still, she spoke, “I’m sorry.” You were shaking your hand before she got the words out, “You don’t have to be. You know our deal.” She nodded, looking down into her lap.

Back when you were dating, which felt like a lifetime ago, you had made a deal to never hold each other back. Both being ambitious women, there were times where you’d make decisions the other may not like. This promise to each other made sure you never got in each other’s way. It was one of the reasons you left in the first place.

“I don’t know if I’ll see you before you leave.” Her voice was quiet, very different from the confident Emily you were used to know. “I know.” This was your way of saying it was okay, that she needed to go.

So I’ll go back to LA and the so-called friends who write books about me if I ever make it. And wonder about the only soul who can tell which smiles I’m faking.

Emily leaned forward to capture your lips one last time, wanting to imprint the memory in her brain to use all year, until she sees you again next December.

She held your gaze when she pulled away. You looked pretty. You were still only in your bra, your cheeks were flush, your lips were swollen, and your eyes were still glassed over from your previous encounter.

“Promise you wont forget me?” Emily questioned, wanting to know if you were trying to memorize her the way she was trying to memorize you.

With a small laugh, you said, “I couldn’t if I wanted to.” This had her cheeks turning a pretty shade of pink, one you wanted to remember forever. She gave you a sad smile, and left the couch, heading to get dressed in her room.

You let out a sigh, knowing you won’t have this connection with anyone for another year. You weren’t sure if Los Angeles was too different from Virginia, or if Emily was just too different from everyone else.

You got up, grabbed your shirt and put it on, and retrieved your book bag from her table. You decided she could keep whatever clothes you had in her room, a keepsake of your time together. Without anything else, you slipped on your shoes and walked out her door.

And the heart I know I’m breaking is my own.

[orions-athenaeum]

From Your Smile to Your Soul

Bucky Barnes x F!Enchanced!reader

Synopsis: You don't want to go on this mission and Bucky doesn't want the girl whose smile brings him happiness getting hurt. But what can either of you do when your job is to heal others? If only you had told him that you weren't ok, if only he had made sure you were right behind him.

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: angst, language, drinking, mentions of guns/injury/blood, hypothermia, asshole SHIELD agents, Bucky gets teary eyed, happy fluff-filled ending...

-I do not consent to having any of my writing, under the username Orions- Athenaeum, translated, posted or published on third party sites, apps or platforms-

Bucky didn’t think there was anything worth enjoying in his new life. Of course he appreciated Steve’s unwavering loyalty and the ease that he brought Bucky after he was freed from Hydra. There was also Sam’s annoying banter which usually gave Bucky something to smirk about, but he would never admit that to anyone. When Bucky didn’t understand what a text message was, Wanda and Natasha helped him adapt to the technological wonders of this modern time. He was even glad when Tony would crack an “old joke” just to get under his skin, because Bucky knew humor was Tony’s way of showing he cared. While Bucky was grateful for everything his teammates did for him, there was still a very obvious void, that felt almost like a ten ton weight sitting on his chest, trying to steal his breath from him. That feeling of immense pressure and simultaneous emptiness only began to lessen about four months ago, on a balmy summer evening when Steve dragged Bucky to one of Tony’s lavish galas.

Bucky didn’t know who or what the event was for, in all honesty he figured Tony was just looking for another excuse to throw a party. The former Winter Soldier had been a part of the team for a while now, but these types of social gatherings never failed to make him feel extremely unsettled. Maybe it was the way he felt people’s eyes lingered on him for too long, whether it was from fear or judgment. Or maybe it was that the suit Natasha had helped him pick out was nearly suffocating him. It could have also been the glass filled with some unknown booze that felt uncomfortably heavy in his vibranium hand. All this to say, Bucky was certain the tension in his shoulders was palpable as he checked his watch for the thirtieth time that evening; he was waiting for the hands to tell him he had waited a respectful amount of time before he could seek out the comfort of his own room. Bucky reluctantly pulled his eyes up from his watch and began to scan the room, hoping to find Steve and with him some sense of calmness. His search was cut short when his gaze landed on a girl chatting with Peter near the bar. She had short y/h/c hair that reminded him of a girl from his own time, messier and not as curled perhaps, but classic nonetheless. Her long, black, strapless dress and sleek platform heels reminded him of something Natasha might have worn. He wondered for a second if maybe Nat had helped her pick out an outfit too. Deciding that was an utterly ridiculous thought a second later, Bucky found himself enamored by her smile. It was all he could focus on: that beautiful, perfect smile. One corner of her mouth curved up more than the other and her full red painted lips made it impossible for Bucky to look away. Seconds felt like hours and as Bucky continued to look at her, he found a smile involuntarily tugging at his own lips. Amazingly enough, he didn’t feel so out of place anymore.

“It’s rude to stare.” Bucky quickly jerked his head towards Sam’s voice. His smile immediately faded as he glared at his friend. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Wilson.” Even Bucky didn’t believe his words and chances were Sam didn’t either. Despite being a pain in the ass, he was smarter and more observant than Bucky liked to give him credit for. Sam rolled his eyes and ignored Bucky’s hint to drop the topic. 

“Why don’t you go and ask her to dance?” Bucky couldn’t breathe. There was no way in hell he could do that. Standing across the room was the prettiest girl he’d seen and Sam thought it would be a good idea for him to ask her for a dance. 

“Yeah that will not be happening.” Bucky tossed back the rest of the liquid in his glass, knowing that the pleasant burn of the alcohol would not affect him in the slightest. He wished it would. Maybe a little liquid courage was the push he needed to go over and speak to her. 

“Look man, she’s gorgeous and really sweet, I met her this morning. All I’m saying is that she would totally say yes if you asked. She was staring at you too, by the way.” This morning. Bucky recalled Sam telling him he met a new member of the team earlier that morning. Maybe he would have the chance to see her again if she was the one Sam was referring to. Shaking his head to extinguish any false hope he had conjured up, Bucky realized that Sam was telling the truth; the girl was staring right back at him. After a few seconds, she raised her delicate fingers and sent a small wave. Bucky almost keeled over on the spot. Not knowing what else to do, he awkwardly raised his own hand back. She smiled. He smiled. And just like that Bucky knew he was a goner.  

Four months later…

“No.” Bucky refused to change his mind. Steve rolled his eyes at his friend, who currently stood across the room with his arms crossed over his chest with a look that said, this is your final warning. Steve knew better than to try and push his best friend around, but this really was a mission that required her skills. There were dozens of hostages, and they would need medical attention. Not from doctors, but from her. 

“Buck. You know I wouldn’t put Y/n in the field if I didn’t think it was absolutely necessary.” Bucky did not move. Steve sighed. And people call me stubborn. He thought to himself. 

“I understand that you want to protect her Bucky, I really do. But she is a part of this team. Y/n’s an Avenger and her role is to heal people. Now, there are people who need her help and she is going to go and help them. If you would prefer not to lead this mission than I can have someone else take-”

“No.” Bucky was quick to cut off Steve’s offer. His tone was firm, but just below the surface Bucky was panicking. He didn’t want his girl out in the field. But if Y/n had to go, he couldn’t stand the thought of not being out there with her. Steve raised a brow. 

“I’ll go. But you better make sure there is no way we’re gonna get ambushed. We’d better be prepared. I won’t hesitate to beat your ass if something happens to Y/n.” Bucky turned to leave the conference room as Steve muttered something under his breath. 

“What?” Bucky snapped. 

“I just said it seems like you care about Y/n an awful lot when she isn’t even your girlfriend.” Bucky knew Steve was trying to get him to admit that he was too scared to ask her out. But honestly, Bucky wasn’t in the mood for his best friend to play matchmaker. So, without a look back, he stormed out into the corridor towards the gym. He was set on taking his anger and fear out on some punching bags, but as he walked through the halls all he could think about was her smile. He needed that smile safe. If he could just wrap it in his arms and shield it from all the bad, he would be happy for the rest of his life. 

————————————————————————

You were certain there had to have been some kind of mistake. The thick Manila folder that sat on your desk marked “MISSION BRIEFING” had to have been delivered to the wrong room. Bucky was just across the hall, so maybe it was for him. That had to be it, because there was no way they were seriously considering putting you out in the field after only four months of being on the team. You weren’t even supposed to be a field agent. Nick Fury had recruited you because of your powers. Sure, you could mend a broken bone and fuse a gunshot wound close, but that did not mean you fought on the front lines. It meant you waited until your team was back to the safety of the compound to help them. Refusing to open the folder you picked it up and made your way to Bucky’s door. 

“Buck?” You called as you knocked on the cool wood. You gasped as it opened not a second later. Bucky was standing in front of you in all his post gym, sweaty, shirtless glory.

“Hey, doll. What’s up?” He asked with a smirk tugging at his lips. That damned smirk. You immediately drew your gaze away from his tight abs and pretty smile up to his eyes. Which, honestly, didn't help because you found yourself getting lost in a sea of  deep cerulean blue. It seemed that every aspect of Bucky had an overwhelming effect on you. Deciding it was best to stare at the carpet instead, you fumbled with the folder before showing it to him. 

“I think they gave this to me by accident, because I’m not usually in the field. Actually I’ve never been in the field and so it’s probably yours and I just wanted to give it to you.” Your words came out all in one breath and you kept your gaze focused on the floor at your feet. You felt Bucky gently take the folder from your grasp. You were ready to let out a sigh of relief when you felt his fingers thread through your own as he lightly pulled you into his room. As your heart beat began to quicken, the brief confusion you had felt quickly morphed into anxiety. Why didn’t he just take his mission briefing and send you on your merry way? He gestured for you to sit down on his bed as he sat next to you. 

“No, this is yours.” He finally said. The finality in his tone made you want to throw up. “Steve told me this morning. But I made him promise that there would be no combat, and I’ll be leading. There will be two other agents, so you’re not alone. The mission should be fairly quick, in and out and then we come home. I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.” His words were somewhat of a comfort. You also knew that the rest of the team was fairly confident in your abilities, since Nat, Sam and Steve had all trained extensively with you over the last four months. Bucky refused to spar with you but that's besides the point. Although, you weren’t really worried about not being able to defend yourself. You had been trained and ran through mission scenarios, but the weight of the briefing envelope in your hands was making this too real. It also didn’t help that every single agent wanted to rip you apart because you were given a spot on the Avengers without making it into SHIELD as an agent. You had tried to put yourself through training, but during your first field test, you instantly choked. All of the sudden the gun pointed at the enemy agent in front of you made your arms feel like lead. Your brain wouldn’t let you pull the trigger, so you stood there, frozen. You were positive you were going to be removed from the program, but when Nick Fury heard about your healing powers, you were suddenly offered a spot as an Avenger. So, to put it plainly, every single SHIELD agent hated you. They hated that you failed training and still got the most coveted title, they hated that you lived in Avengers Tower, they hated that you got everything they wanted. The real problem, which was much bigger than any jealous agent’s spiteful remarks, was that you could not stomach the idea of hurting someone. That was the reason why you failed your training in the first place, because bad guy or not, you were given the gift of healing. You were never supposed to cause pain and it seemed as if the concept of harming someone was against your very nature. Pulling the trigger on a paper silhouette was one thing. Aiming a gun at another human being was quite another. So while the training you had done prepared you for taking down enemies, you’re not entirely sure you could bring yourself to that. 

“Ok.” Was all you could manage. Some time during your internal spiral Bucky had begun rubbing soothing circles on your back. Bucky was another aspect of this assignment that you had to consider. You weren’t sure how to feel about him going on the mission with you. Your relationship was a little confusing at times to say the least. You knew that you cared about him more than a friend would and he often made it seem like he felt the same way. You had felt this way from the very first night you met him, when he caught you staring at him and you awkwardly waved (who the hell waves at a hot guy across the room?) Bucky was also the first one to make you feel like you were truly part of the team. He would bring your breakfast to the lab when you were working mornings and didn’t have time to eat, he would make sure you had a good spot on the couch for team movie nights (it was coincidentally always next to him) and then there were time like these where he would comfort you and do everything in his power to make you feel safe and cared for. Basically, in the four months that you had known him, you were falling in love with Bucky Barnes. 

“Ok, what, doll?” And those stupid pet names definitely weren’t helping you keep your feelings at bay. 

“Ok. Sounds good, I guess I’ll see you at the hangar in a few hours.” You replied, unwilling to meet his eyes, you slowly picked up the folder and walked towards his door. An unnerving feeling overcame you as you heard the heavy wood close behind you. 

————————————————————————

     You figured the mission would not be a walk in the park, and as you sat in the middle of Siberia, with two agents that hate you and hostages with far more injuries than Steve had anticipated, you knew this easily made your “Top Ten Worst Days list.” Of course you were more than happy to help every hostage, that was the only part you enjoyed. However, the  amount of energy it took to heal so many injuries resulted in black dots clouding your vision by the time you had helped the last hostage. The thing about your healing abilities was that you had to use your energy to heal others. Meaning healing their injuries literally exhausts you. And on top of the twenty broken bones, abrasions and burns you’ve healed, Megan and Nick had a few bumps and bruises from breaking down the door and restraining the guards that needed mending. According to Megan, Bucky told them to go to you since they need to be in top shape for the trek back to the safe house. While the safe house sounded pleasant, the fact that it was currently 40 below and that the shelter was three miles out in the middle of a forest, was not as pleasant. After you finished healing Megan’s bruised ankle, the dizziness that had settled in a few minutes prior was now overwhelming. If you could just sit down for a few minutes and maybe close your eyes, you would feel much better. 

“Get up. We need to meet Bucky in a few minutes. A storm is moving in so we can’t take the jet back until morning. Bucky secured the hostages in an exit raft and we need to find the safehouse soon.” Megan sneered as she pushed your hands away from her ankle. 

“Could I just have one minute? I’m not feeling-”

“You’re an Avenger, right? So get off your ass and start walking.” You hesitantly stood up, apparently too quickly because you began swaying and lurched forward, catching yourself against a tree. The frozen bark cut into your skin, slicing your palms. Willing your head to stop spinning you looked down at your bloodied hands. Another downside of your powers was that once your energy had been spent, it became nearly impossible for you to continue healing, which meant you could not help yourself or others when you were this exhausted. You heard Megan’s boots crunch in the snow as she began to walk, blatantly ignoring your compromised state. Since it appeared you had no other option, you began walking as well, but the edges of your vision were fuzzy and it felt like someone had thrown your head against a wall. If you could just get to Bucky maybe he would let you rest for a minute. No. You couldn’t ask him for that, Megan and Nick already thought you got special treatment for being an Avenger you didn’t need them to see parts of yours and Bucky’s friendship in the field. Plus, Bucky had been acting weird ever since you stepped foot on the quinjet. He called you by your last name and his usual soft eyes and teasing tone had left him completely. It made sense, you told yourself as you pushed forward, because this was his job, and he didn’t really care about you like that. The frigid chill had begun to seep through your suit, and though you had never been a huge fan of the cold, you were thankful for it now. It was keeping you awake and alert, the sting of the snow hitting your face gave you something to focus on so you wouldn’t pass out. Finally you reached the clearing where Bucky was waiting. You glanced up to find his concerned gaze looking you over. You used all your strength to muster up a smile and nodded your head to let him know you were ok. He seemed satisfied enough, and told the team to start walking.

How you managed to walk two miles you weren’t sure, but what you did know was that you were now falling behind the others. You were following Nick and Megan who had been keeping a fairly even pace with Bucky. But now, with the snow whipping all around you, you couldn’t see or hear any of them. Maybe this would be a good time to take a break. It would only be for a few minutes and nobody would notice that you had taken a breather. As the snow storm had progressed you had lost feeling in your fingers and toes, and it seemed like everything was moving in slow motion. You thought you reached out to brace yourself on a tree but instead you felt like you were falling. It didn’t hurt when you hit the powdery snow, its cold embrace only called you to rest your eyes. You obeyed and felt your eyelids slowly blink shut. I’ll only rest for a minute, you told yourself. Just as you were about to let sleep pull you under, you heard shouting. The voice sounded familiar as it called your name over the howling of the wind. You knew you should answer but you simply didn’t have the energy. Then, you felt strong arms lift you up and a familiar fresh, piney scent filled your nose. This is what Bucky smells like, you thought to yourself. 

“Could you open those pretty eyes for me. Please, doll. I’m begging you, give me anything.” 

Bucky sounded like he was talking underwater. 

“You are not allowed to do this to me, I swear I’ll make it up to you but you gotta wake up so we can talk.” And why did he seem so worried? You wanted to tell him that you were fine but you couldn’t get the words out. 

“Why wouldn’t you say something?” Bucky’s muddled voice had more of an edge this time. His sharp tone made sense, he had every right to be mad at you, it was you who was slowing down the mission and now he had to pick up the slack. 

“I didn’t see her fall behind, she was fine a minute ago.” This time it was a woman who responded and somewhere in your mind you figured it was Megan. But you hadn’t been “fine a minute ago,” in fact you hadn’t felt ok for over an hour. 

“You’re supposed to watch out for your teammates, so I’m going to ask again, why the hell did you not say something?” In your dazed state you realized Bucky was directing his anger at Megan not at you and well you felt some reprieve from the fact that Bucky didn’t seem too disappointed in you, you were beginning to slip further and further into the shadows of sleep. You knew you needed to stay awake, but you couldn’t feel anything, not the snow hitting your cheeks, or Bucky’s frantic pace, and your entire body felt completely numb. Time began to pass strangely after that moment, you heard some more gargled shouting before you felt your body being laid down on something hard. You found some odd burst of energy and forced your eyelids to open, looking up to find Bucky’s worried eyes desperately trying to hold your gaze. His eyes seemed glossier and much more concerned than normal, but you couldn’t figure out why. “C’mon Y/n, I’ll get you warm and you’ll be alright. I’m gonna have to get your wet gear off first, but I promise I’ll make it all better ok, sweetheart? I love you too much to let go now.” Love? Why would Bucky be talking about love, he seemed so frustrated with you in the field. His face disappeared from view a moment later and you thought you heard the sound of fabric ripping. Bucky yelled for someone to get blankets and before you could tell him that all his shouting was confusing and much too loud, you surrendered yourself to the peaceful comfort of unconsciousness. 

You didn’t know when you became aware of your surroundings again, whether it had been minutes or weeks, you couldn’t tell. You could smell burning wood accompanied by a familiar piney scent that you soon identified as Bucky, but you couldn’t open your eyes to confirm your theory. When you heard a deep voice laced with a Brooklyn accent from somewhere around you, you didn’t have to look at Bucky to know whose arms were protecting you.

“...Remember when we were in Queens and you made me go inside that old book store with you? We stayed there until they closed and you kept handing me books that would, “change your life, I swear it, Bucky.” I didn’t like reading much in the forties but I woulda stayed there with you for weeks if it meant I got to see that smile of yours every time you read something funny. I’ll take you back there but you gotta wake up first, alright?” Bucky’s words were soothing, and his soft voice gently lulled you back to sleep before you could answer his request.   

Bucky was talking again when you tried to wake up for a second time, 

“...Everything about you is perfect, doll, like how you always scrunch your nose when Sam’s cooking looks awful, but you eat it anyway with a smile on your face because you’re just happy he cared enough to make you something.” You wanted to smile for Bucky, open your mouth, say anything. But your head was still too heavy and you couldn’t break through the cloud of sleep that kept dragging you back under.

This time you could feel warmth running up and down your arms, as if someone was trying to coax you from sleep with their caring touch. You waited for Bucky to talk to you again, you found yourself needing his words to anchor you to consciousness.

“...You should’ve told me sooner, sweetheart, I coulda carried you, given you a little break. You know I would do just about anything for you right? Hell, I think everyone on this damn team thinks I’m weak when it comes to you. But you don’t make me weak, Y/n, you give me a reason to smile, you make me feel better about the world and like I’m not too broken to be a part of it…” You wanted to take Bucky’s face in your hands and tell him that he was not broken, that he was worth more than your words would ever mean. But it still seemed like too much work to open your eyes, so you kept them shut and let your mind slip back into sleep for a little longer. 

————————————————————————

Your skin felt like it was on fire, that was the first thing you noticed when you fully regained consciousness. Something heavy was laying across your stomach and there was a solid presence holding you that seemed to radiate the same amount of heat as the crackling fire in front of you. 

“Y/n? Doll? Thank God you’re finally awake, how’re you feeling?

At the sound of his voice you slowly turned to face Bucky and were met with a look of adoration in those blue eyes, which made you feel even worse for making him take care of you. 

“I’m sorry I messed the mission up, Barnes.” Even though your sight was still a little blurry you could make out the confusion in his face. Pushing some hair out of your face he asked, 

“You never call me Barnes, what’s up with that Y/n/n? And what are goin’ on about, “messing up the mission,” you didn’t do a damn thing wrong. If Megan and Nick had done their jobs as teammates you wouldn’t be in this situation. It’s my fault too ya know, I should've checked you over before I made you walk three miles. You looked a little tired when I first saw you but I think I tricked myself into believing you were safe, all I ever want is for you to be safe, Y/n.” You weren’t quite sure how to answer him, your brain felt like quicksand, trapping your thoughts from becoming words.

“And you never answered my question, Y/n, you feelin’ better?” You nodded slowly, during the time you had been asleep your body had slowly heated up, you had regained feeling in your limbs and your mind was feeling less foggy by the minute.

“Thanks for getting me out of there, Bucky. I mean, it’s not like I needed your help, I just wanted to sleep for a few minutes.” You attempted to lighten the mood by pushing out a laugh that sounded more like a light exhale. 

“There she is, that’s the girl I love.” You whipped your head back with such force that Bucky had to place his hand on your neck to prevent you from giving yourself whiplash. You stared into his eyes, determined to find out if he was really speaking the truth. 

“I do love you Y/n, I have from the minute I caught you smiling at Tony’s stupid gala. You’re perfect to me, in every possible way, from your smile to your soul.” Of course you felt the same way for him. Bucky was your best friend, he made you laugh and his heart and the care that he gave out freely never ceased to amaze you. You watched his lips turn into the most perfect smile  and you found yourself smiling twice as big knowing that there was no moment in your life more wonderful than this one. Right before you could respond a shiver ran through you and Bucky turned you around so you were facing the fireplace again. 

“Hey, Bucky?” you received a low hum and a kiss behind your ear in response. “You should really shower, you smell like an old barn.” He chuckled and replied, “Jeez, doll, I save your life and tell you that I love you, and all you do is tell me that I smell?” You could tell that Bucky knew you were teasing, but you didn’t feel like letting him off the hook quite yet. 

“I guess I love you too.” You mumbled with an obvious grin in your voice. 

“I know you do doll, I only wish you had said something sooner, then I woulda had more opportunities to torture you for makin’ fun of me.” With that, Bucky began to tickle your stomach, while still being wary of your injuries, earning an eruption of giggles from your mouth. After a few seconds Bucky pulled you back against him and whispered a soft, “sleep, sweet girl, I’ve got you,” into your hair. Your eyes slowly fell shut and you felt completely content, knowing you were safe in the arms of the man who loved you, and who you loved right back. 

[fluentmoviequoter]

Something fluffy where Deacon takes care of the sick reader. They are close but not together. The reader has high fever and mumbles something like ‚I love you‘. Deacon isn’t sure if he understood her correctly and asks her about it as soon as she is well again. Also maybe they are coworkers- 🥰

This request is adorable; thank you for sending it! I hope it's along the lines of what you wanted; please enjoy and let me know what you think! <3

Warnings: just a fluffy sick fic! Reader works an unspecified job at the LAPD.

Word Count: 1.8k+ words

Picture from Pinterest (that picture is so cute! this is what he looks like when he smiles at the end of this.)

What We Say When We're Sick

Working for the LAPD has its pros and cons. Working a desk job at the LAPD has many more cons, but at least you’re not in the direct line of fire. Or, at least, that’s what your best friend and favorite coworker, Deacon, says every time you complain that your back is stiff or your feet are sore. At the end of your first week of work, you were invited out by a few of your desk neighbors. When you got to the restaurant, one of the SWAT teams was also there, and you met Deacon Kay for the first time. You sat beside each other and talked for a long time; surprised to find that you get along well and have several things in common outside of work. After that night, you continued to hang out with and without mutual friends and became very close. Deacon’s your best friend, though you wish you had the courage to ask for more.

✯✯✯✯✯

When you wake up, you slam your eyes closed again and roll over, pushing your face into the pillow. Your head is pounding, your throat is dry and burning, and you’re simultaneously too hot and too cold. Realizing that you’re too sick to go to work, tears well in your eyes, an unusual response likely brought on by your ill health day. Blindly reaching for your phone, you grow frustrated when you have to sit up to text your boss you won’t be in today.

Your screensaver, a selfie of you and Deacon on one of your nights out, makes you weepier before you roll back over, returning to your original position of misery with your face in your pillow and the lights off. You desperately want a glass of cold water to soothe your throat but don’t have the strength to get one. Thinking of Deacon, you return to a fitful sleep.

✯✯✯✯✯

Deacon walks into your office but stops short when he sees your empty desk. He looks around, wondering if you just stepped away. Your desk looks unused like it does at the end of every day, not the beginning.

He points to your desk and asks, “Is she here?”

“Oh, no, she called in sick. Poor thing,” the older woman who works across from you answers.

“Thanks,” Deacon says before walking out of the office.

He takes his phone from his pocket and clicks your contact, raising it to his ear as it rings and then goes to voicemail. Your happy greeting makes him smile, but he hangs up and texts you rather than leaving a message. He asks how you’re feeling and if you need anything before putting his phone away again.

Twenty minutes later, you still haven’t answered, and Deacon is starting to worry about you. He calls you again, frustrated when it goes straight to voicemail.

“Go,” Hondo says, looking at something on his phone. “You’re no used to us this worried.”

Deacon rolls his eyes but thanks Hondo before jogging to the locker room to gather his stuff. He changes and carries his backpack to his car. Sitting in the driver’s seat, he debates with himself. Should he drive straight to your place or go get your food first? You probably haven't eaten if you don’t feel well enough to answer your phone. Shifting the car into drive, Deacon heads toward your favorite store to stop on his way to you.

With a bag full of your favorite soup and snacks, plus some electrolyte drinks for hydration, Deacon uses his key (something you entrusted him with several months ago) to let himself in. He says your name quietly, but the living room and kitchen are empty, so you may still be in bed. Dropping the bag in the kitchen, he travels quietly down the hallway before peeking into your open door. You’re lying on your back with a pillow pressed over your face when Deacon enters. If you weren’t shifting the pressure of the pillow around your face, Deacon would think you were asleep. He says your name quietly, and your face is slowly revealed as you roll toward him. You squint like you’re unsure where you are, and Deacon can’t stop the smile on his face.

“Deacon?” you ask, voice scratchy. “What are you doing here? Are you here?”

Deacon chuckles to himself and then nods, moving to stand beside your hip. “Yeah, I’m here. I came to check on you. You didn’t come to work today and then you didn’t answer my calls.”

“You called me?”

Your question trails off into a harsh cough, and Deacon bends down to help you sit up, rubbing your back as you continue coughing.

“What day is it?” you ask a hand on your chest to ease the pain.

Deacon tells you, and you’re surprised to learn you’ve only been sick for a few hours. It feels like a lifetime. You duck under the covers when you realize you're wearing pajamas and your hair is messy from rolling around. Deacon tells you he’ll be right back, then disappears into the hall. You consider jumping up to change and brush your hair, but your dizziness and disorientation make you second-guess it. You’ll have to hide beneath your covers for now.

“I brought you some soup, and the snacks you like, and some electrolytes because I doubt you’ve had enough water today,” Deacon says when he returns, carrying a bag.

He sets the bag on your nightstand and pulls the items out.

“You shouldn’t be under the blankets, you have a fever,” Deacon says gently.

“It’s cold out there,” you argue weakly.

“We need to break your fever. Do you want me to get you clothes to change into or anything?”

“I don’t- why are you taking care of me?”

“You shouldn’t be alone when you’re sick. If you want to be, though, at least let me give you some food and medicine before I leave.”

You blink like you’re questioning if he’s really there again. Deacon lays a hand on your cheek and smiles down at you.

“You’re really warm,” he says quietly. “The covers have to go. Want me to go?”

You shake your head, leaning into his hand as you move.

“Then why are you still under there?” he asks playfully.

“Because I’m sick and dirty and don’t want you to see me like this,” you answer quickly, your eyes closed, and your cheek pressed against Deacon’s palm.

“You are sick, but you’re still beautiful,” Deacon whispers. “Want me to keep you company?”

You nod, sitting up and letting the covers fall away from you as you make room for Deacon to sit beside you. He sits, hands you the electrolyte drink and soup, and then stretches his legs out on top of your comforter. You hand him the television remote, silently asking him to turn something on while you eat.

After you finish your soup and drink, you set the empty containers on the nightstand and turn toward Deacon. Your eyes have gone glassy again, and Deacon holds his hand out, offering you two fever-reducer pills.

“I’m glad you’re here now,” you say as you take the pills from him. “I love you.”

You slump against Deacon’s side after the last word, falling asleep again with a full stomach and happy heart. As happy as it can be when you’re not sure where you are, what day it is, or if Deacon is real, at least.

Deacon freezes, looking at you as he tries to determine if he heard you correctly. He shifts so that you’re at a more comfortable angle against his chest. You had to have said something else, he thinks, like maybe you were asking him to move. But, then again, you look incredibly comfortable and moved toward him, so that doesn’t make sense. Unhappy with his decision about what else you could have said, he moves on to imagine what he would do if you said it when you feel better. He’d kiss you and tell you he feels the same; he knows that. He’d kiss you now, even if you are sick. Lost in his thoughts, Deacon barely notices when you shift away from him. Wrapping an arm around your back, Deacon lowers you so that you’re lying on your pillow, the sheets half on you to keep you somewhat comfortable while you sleep. He walks into your living room and sits on the couch, vowing to stay close until you feel better.

The next morning, you wake up early as the first rays of sunlight stream into your bedroom. Feeling much better, you try to determine what was real and what was a dream. You remember telling Deacon you love him, but there’s no good reason he would be here, right? So, that must have been a dream. You stretch, stiff from spending so much time in bed, then get ready quickly before you walk to the kitchen.

“Hey,” Deacon says while plating pancakes.

“Deacon?” you ask dumbly, frozen in the doorway.

“Are you feeling better?” he asks, handing you your favorite morning beverage and pointing to a glass of water beside two more fever reducers.

“Much better. Thanks for coming to take care of me, Deacon, you really didn’t have to do all of this.”

“Yes, I did. Do you- do you remember anything from when you had the fever?”

You nod, looking toward your living room as you do so.

“What did you say?” Deacon asks, pushing a plate of food toward you.

“I said I love you,” you repeat quietly, looking down.

Terrified that he’ll tell you you’re better as friends, or worse, walk out, you try not to give him your attention and get your heart broken. Deacon steps toward you and raises his fingers to your chin, gently tilting your head so you’re looking at him.

“I love you,” Deacon says firmly, no sign of hesitation or doubt in his voice.

He leans toward you, but you press a hand against his chest while the other clutches his arm.

“You can’t kiss me,” you say quickly.

“Why not?” Deacon asks, wide-eyed as he looks between your eyes and lips.

“I don’t want to get you sick.”

“Oh.”

You lower your hands, and Deacon rushes forward, capturing your lips with his. The taste of your toothpaste blends with the pancake batter he taste-tested before you woke up, and his hands and lips on you work better than any medicine ever could. Still concerned about him getting sick, you pull back and push him to arm's length.

“We’re going on a date when you feel better,” Deacon says.

“What do you call the last hundred dinners we had together?”

“Practice,” Deacon answers, smiling as he leans in to steal another kiss.

“And if you get sick?”

“Then we’ll have to do two date nights in one to make up.”

[madame-fear]

Hi! For your short stories/ imagines, could you maybe do both Velaryon boys with a breeding kink... I feel empty asking you this, haha, but it's completely fine if you don't want to write it. Your writing is fantastic! <3

thank you babe !! please enjoy this, it's not empty at all i promise 👀♡ also i will write more about the velaryon boys with breeding kinks because there is not enough for them and this particular kink coughcoughcough

Jacaerys would 100% have a breeding kink. I have zero doubt of that, and our boy would shamelessly and constantly show it to you. Though, his breeding kink would probably begin after he begins to court you and he's keen in exploring new ways of satisfying you.

Once he discovered his breeding kink, he would simply not get enough of you. The idea of you being a mother to his children and seeing your stomach swollen thanks to him both makes him be head over heels for you, and simultaneously turn him on.

This man would bamboozle you by promising you he'd rightfully pull out so you don't have to drink any tea for birth control, and you always fall for his lie. Because in the moment you're having intercourse, he'll always have an 'oopsie' moment and would cum all inside of you. Basically: sorry not sorry, even if you scold him. You'd be full of children, and he just loves how beautiful (and hot 👀) you look as a mother. Gods, he'd crave you so badly when he sees your stomach swollen.

And with Lucerys, I have the feeling that the very first time you're having sexual relationships he'll be the typical shy, submissive boy that is too timid to even whimper. But once he gets fully comfortable with you, he'll reveal his true kinky nature, and you'll find out about his breeding kink.

Unlike Jace, Luke would already have a breeding kink even before officially courting you, and it all started when he fancied you and enjoyed to use you as a muse to his deepest fantasies. And after you began courting and you already had some experience in sexual relationships, he won't be afraid of experimenting his wildest fantasies.

Don't be surprised if you have a litter of children, though. And would probably adore to fuck you even when you're pregnant; his hand would be on your stomach the entire time, and he would continously whisper about how he's going to always fill you with his seed to give you many, many beautiful heirs. A little bit bizarre, yes, but that makes him hornier I guess.

Would both boys be ashamed of their kinks? Not at all. They would proudly display it for you.

♡ taglist : ♡

@damatheirin @jacesvelaryons @jjamieberry @anemicroyalcore @countsmoon @tickle-euphoria @beeebo234 @manuholland6 @capellaadara @kyuupidwrites @tchatso @phantasyy @chompchompluke @tasty-nutella @mstxdes @valeriecash @cookielovesbook-akie @zzz000eee @bellarkeselection @feliuuuksks

[historicallyaccuratecheese]

I’m now halfway through The Magnus Archives’ 1st season, so I thought it would be cool to just post my thoughts on each episode so far :). (Spoilers, I like all of them, and this podcast is going to be all I care about for a while.) Also NO SPOILERS PLEASE!!!

Link to Masterpost (contains all of these thought posts)

- Episode 1, Anglerfish 🚬

Statement of Nathan Watts, regarding an encounter on Old Fishmarket Close, Edinburgh.

Really strong start, not the scariest episode so far but definitely unnerving, and it gives a good first impression and layer of intrigue. While the story is simple in comparison to the later ones, it was still enjoyable, and I was just appreciating the atmosphere and framing device of the episode as well.

- Episode 2, Do Not Open ⚰️

Statement of Joshua Gillespie, regarding his time in the possession of an apparently empty wooden casket.

This is still one of my favorites. The whole time I was on edge, and this was the first episode that really kept me up at night. I went from wanting to know what was inside the coffin desperately, to wanting to stay away from it as much as possible. Joshua’s insuring dread and creative solution to his problems was fantastic, and it ends with some intriguing plot threads being set up.

- Episode 3, Across The Street 📓

Statement of Amy Patel, regarding the alleged disappearance of her acquaintance Graham Folger.

I think I share a common sentiment when I say that Amy stalking Graham was almost as creepy as the actual horror lmao. Overall I don’t have that much to say about this one, but it was very enjoyable, and I feel really bad for Graham in retrospect :(.

- Episode 4, Pageturner 📕

Statement of Dominic Swain, regarding a book briefly in his possession in the winter of 2012.

I…feel like I should hold off on talking about this one for now. While it was definitely well written and creepy, it just seems to be so full of setup for future plot lines that I almost don’t feel like I can form a concise opinion on it until I really get what’s going on. Honestly, my only complaint with this episode is that maybe it’s setting up TOO much in one go, but I still had a good time with it overall.

- Episode 5, Thrown Away 🗑️

Statement of Kieran Woodward, regarding items recovered from the refuse of 93 Lancaster Road, Walthamstowe.

This one actually did a pretty good job at getting me to think about waste disposal workers lmao, I never really thought about them like that before. This one was just really creepy, but also kind of fun in a weird twisted way. It did a great job keeping me on edge as well.

- Episode 6, Squirm 🪱

Statement of Timothy Hodge, regarding his sexual encounter with Harriet Lee and her subsequent death.

I am simultaneously horrified, and unfortunately aroused by what happened here.

- Episode 7, The Piper 🔫

Statement of Staff Sgt. Clarence Berry, regarding his time serving with Wilfred Owen in the Great War.

Having an episode set nearly 100 years ago is a really fun idea, and it’s executed perfectly here. It was interesting how it also featured a real person, and I liked how the paranormal activity felt more metaphorical here, it really did feel like it was showcasing the horror of war.

- Episode 8, Burned Out 🌳

Statement of Ivo Lensik, regarding his experiences during the construction of a house on Hill Top Road, Oxford.

I found this one to be very nerve-wracking, since not only was the whole scenario with the tree just, like…three creepy things happening at once, but the fact that the statement was given by someone with schizophrenia did a good job making me question it’s validity, even though I’m certain it’s true after listening to a later statement. I also hope that I get to see how the history of the house is unveiled in the future.

- Episode 9, A Father’s Love 💡

Statement of Julia Montauk, regarding the actions and motivations of her father, the serial killer Robert Montauk.

This one made me feel really sad :(. I really felt Julia’s despair in this one (Jonathan Sims does such great voice acting for every statement btw, both the character and the actual person), and I was even more saddened by the implications of why Robert did what he did. If my assumptions are correct, then…SCREW THE MOTHER! It was also the first one that got me thinking about where exactly all of the paranormal stuff comes from, and later episodes only add to my theory that it’s all due to demons/cults/higher powers.

- Episode 10, Vampire Killer 🧛🏻

Statement of Trevor Herbert, regarding his life as a self-proclaimed vampire hunter.

Much like Episode 8, this one did a really good job at making me question the validity of the statement, although I became more sure of its truth a bit earlier. I also just love how nonchalant Trevor comes off as, compared to all of the other traumatized horror victims. (Also, I’m guessing that the name Trevor and the episode title are meant to be a Castlevania reference?) While vampires aren’t the most creative thing for an episode, at least in comparison to everything else, the beast-like execution here more than made up for it in my opinion.

- Episode 11, Dreamer 💭

Statement of Antonio Blake, regarding his recent dreams about Gertrude Robinson, previous Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute.

Yeah…Gertrude Robinson did not die a normal death. My guess is that she was caught by ✨the horrors✨, but I’ll wait and see. This was another very tense episode, with the prophetic dream world being really, REALLY creepy. I do hope we get to see more of “Antonio” in the future, as I think he could be quite important. (I also hope he gets punched for DUMPING GRAHAM IN HIS TIME OF NEED-)

- Episode 12, First Aid 🏥

Statement of Lesere Saraki, regarding a recent night-shift at St. Thomas Hospital, London.

OMG GERARD KEAY HI HI HI HI HOW ARE YOU!!! Yeah I audibly gasped when he showed up again, it was such a cool moment. Anyways, hospitals already creep me the fuck out so this was pretty effective. Definitely some great setup here, and it helped to make a bit more sense of Pageturner, now that I have a better idea of what Gerard’s whole deal is. It also added some good fuel to the whole cult idea, and my god this poor nurse. Having to deal with all of this in a single night sounds like hell.

- Episode 13, Alone 🌫️

Statement of Naomi Herne, regarding the events following the funeral of her fiancé, Evan Lukas. Statement taken direct from subject.

Having a new voice in this episode was really cool, and Katie Davison did an excellent job as Naomi! It was also cool to see how Jon interacts with other people, he was…nicer than expected. This episode honestly felt like it was calling me out, as I am also someone who’s confident in my independence, but if I was in Naomi’s place I would also probably be scared shitless. I really hope she’ll get a happy ending :(. Also, The Lukas family is quite intriguing, especially since we now know they have a connection to The Institute…

- Episode 14, Piecemeal 👆

Statement of Lee Rentoul, regarding the murder of his associate Paul Noriega.

Firstly, this is probably my favorite of Jon’s vocal deliveries. His performance of Lee Rentoul just feels perfect. (Once again, this applies to both the writer and the character, I’m genuinely convinced the latter is an ex-theatre kid.) Outside of that, THIS ONE CREEPED ME OUT. The body horror was very effective, with the only thing holding it back being the fact that Lee isn’t the most likable protagonist in the podcast, but if this happened to someone else I’d be even more upset. Still though, it was a very creative concept, and the whole vibe and execution of the episode made it great.

- Episode 15, Lost Johns’ Cave 🕯️

Statement of Laura Popham, regarding her experience exploring the Three Counties System of caves with her sister Alena Sanderson.

What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fu-

- Episode 16, Arachnophobia 🕷️

Statement of Carlos Vittery, regarding his arachnophobia and its manifestations.

The way they tackled the concept in the title was really well done. Arachnophobia is seen as an irrational fear by a lot of people, so having it portrayed as an effect of childhood trauma was a good call. And as someone who is not arachnophobic, this episode got me close to feeling that way. What ever force was making Carlos relive his trauma is a sick fuck. Also the cat was a real one, glad he survived the whole situation. (Also THE WORMS, HOLY SHIT IT’S THE SEX WORMS!!!)

- Episode 17, The Boneturner’s Tale 🦴

Statement of Sebastian Adekoya, regarding a new acquisition at Chiswick Library.

This episode really compelled me to get out the rubber bands connecting images lmao. I really liked all of the connections to past statements here, like the presence of another book from the library of Jurgen Leitner, to the mention of Micheal Crew. The body horror here was once again very creepy, (outside of the flat rat, that was morbidly funny), but my favorite part of the episode was the introduction of Elias, which was a humorous, but also very intriguing scene. Also, the themes of books containing power was great as well. Great stuff all around.

- Episode 18, The Man Upstairs 🥩

Statement of Christof Rudenko, regarding his interactions with a first floor resident of Welbeck House, Wandsworth.

…ew. Ok in all seriousness, this is probably my least favorite episode so far. Still very far from bad, but after all of the extremely interesting themes and plot threads, having an episode where the idea was just “What if a guy had a house covered in meat? Wouldn’t that be fucked up?”, felt just a little bit underwhelming. Which like, the fact that my least favorite episode’s biggest problem is that I find it slightly pales in comparison to previous ones is just a testament to how much I’ve been enjoying the podcast. Still though, there were definitely a few things I really liked. The reveal of the room was creepy (especially considering the meat that seemed…alive…), and as someone who has had to deal with upstairs neighbors making noise for hours during construction, this episode definitely scared me.

- Episode 19, Confession, and Episode 20, Desecrated Host ✝️

Statement of Father Edwin Burroughs, regarding his claimed demonic possession.

This, alongside Lost Johns’ Cave, was one (or I guess, two…) of those episodes that seriously fucked me up. While I am not religious, I have always had fears of how religion can negatively affect me and the people around me, despite the good that it seems to do for so many people. So seeing Edwin be charged for every “sin” he committed by a higher power that wishes to steal its faith, and then not get judged by it, but by the people around him for his one true sin, was absolutely haunting, and I hope he turns out ok in the end. Outside of the horror, the episodes were fantastic. Listening to the events of Episode 8 from Edwin’s perspective, and seeing how Ivo’s actions saved him, was really cool, and solidifies in my mind that Ivo’s experience was real. The connections to demonic magic and Latin script thickened, and it was overall just a great mid-season finale. In conclusion, I hope that Martin feels better soon, and if he isn’t actually sick and is being plagued by ✨the horrors✨, well then I hope he survives :).

Thank you for reading my silly little thoughts if you’ve made it this far, it really means a lot to me :). I’ll probably update this every time I finish half of a season, so hopefully my thoughts on episodes 21-40 will be here in the Reblogs soon. :)

[darlingmisa]

If possible thigh riding with sage and or Skye? Preferably with fem reader but gn is fine as well!

Sweet Girl | Sage

I've never written nsfw so I deeply apologize for how bad this probably is,,, also stuck with just Sage since I'm not too good with Skye yet.

tw: porn with no plot, literally just porn, fem reader, dom!Sage, sub!reader, 18+ content, praise kink if you squint

wc: 745

You couldn’t exactly remember how you got here. It wasn’t rare for you both to be all over each other the minute you were alone, and using sex as a stress reliever definitely wasn’t rare between the two of you. But this was different. 

Sage was leaning back against the couch that resided to the left of her bed in her room, a glass of wine in one hand while the other rested on your hip. She looked oddly casual, relaxed even, except for the small smirk that rested on her lips as her eyes explored your half nude body in her lap. 

“Feel good sweetheart?” Her silky smooth voice rang through your ears. All you could do was nod, the only sounds coming from you being the soft whines and mumbles of her name as you continued to rub your cunt against her clothed thigh. 

Sage could feel the wet spot on her sweatpants grow as you continued, relying on her singular hand on your hip to keep you at a good rhythm. As your moans grew louder, breathing seemingly becoming harder, she could tell you were slowly growing closer to your release. She basked in the way your voice pitched every time she flexed the muscles in her thigh while adding more pressure to your hips, gripping tight enough to surely leave a mark. 

“I bet it does” Sage continued, setting her now empty wine glass on the table next to her, opting to grope you through the shirt you still had on, her shirt, relishing in the way your head fell to her shoulder as her fingers ran over your clothed nipple, pulling out an almost pornographic moan from you. “Doing so good for me, my sweet girl.”

The praise went straight to your head before shooting down to your core, leaving you clenching around nothing. She swiftly removed the shirt you were once in, abandoning it somewhere on the floor with the rest of your clothes. Now fully bare, Sage could only focus on the sheen of sweat across your chest that was subtly reflecting the light of the small lamp on the bedside table. 

“So pretty…all for me.” It was just loud enough for you to hear, feeling her warm breath now on your neck. When did she get so close? There was hardly time for you to think before you felt her soft lips leaving rough kisses and bites along your collarbone, sure to leave marks that would be difficult to cover when the morning came. 

Sage knew exactly what she was doing, finding the sweet spot in the crevice of your neck before biting, hard, pulling another very loud moan from your throat. Breathing seemed to become harder as she lifted her thigh, simultaneously pulling your hips down to where the pressure hit your clit just right, causing a sharp gasp to leave your lips and your thighs to tremble. 

Her mouth made it’s way down to the swell of your breasts, tongue circling the now hardened bud. “Close..s-so close, please.” All you could do was beg. Thoughts full of her and only her. The way her lips felt against your bare skin. How the tight grip she had on your hips felt so good. The way her thigh felt so perfect against your leaking pussy. Small, soft pleas consistently fell from your lips as you felt your orgasm rapidly approaching, still begging for her permission to finally let go. And oh how Sage loved it when you begged. 

“Come on, let go for me sweet girl, cum on my thigh.” That was all you needed to hear before throwing your head back with one more loud and broken moan. You felt your core snap while you gripped Sage’s shoulders, almost as if she'd slip away if you were to let go, legs now violently shaking with pleasure. This pulled a deep moan out of the woman herself, feeling her pants practically soak as you finish while your nails left little crescents in her skin.

Once your breathing slowed, Sage gently picked you up and moved your now weak body to the bed. You finally opened your eyes again, having them pinched shut since your orgasm. Looking up at the woman now leaning above you, you quickly took note of her eyes, still blown with lust. “Oh I’m not quite done with you yet princess.”

Yeah. It was gonna be a long night. 

[darlingpwease]

judging by the fact that the post about yuuta and bodywriting, for some reason, is still revalent, — for those who do not see it: I advise you to eventually do a filter for nsfw content — let's move on to the next stage of my not smooth conviction that he is a whore for attention in a much deeper sense than just "look at me" for anyone within a five-kilometer radius

cw improper use of abilities, very rough sex, group sex (gangbang), cum inflation implied, size difference (belly bulge), dirty talk, double penetration, consensual noncon / dub-con, oral sex (r.), praise + degrading praise + name-calling (slut, whore, cumdump) (g.); reader with a dick

You say "my ability allows me to make physical copies" and it all ends with you pushing into Yuuta while he is choking, trying your best to orally satisfy your copy, knowing that he still has many willing ones to take advantage of him and his position — and that all these "willing ones" are versions of you, created to fuck him until he loses consciousness.

When you — they — praise him for how well he accepts, being the cutest slut for all your cocks, or how diligently he tries to take deep, whining when you cum in him again, filling his pretty mouth; when Yuuta tries to swallow everything only to be pushed apart again and forced to serve a new one, even when his body is close to orgasm, wrapping legs around your hips during especially deep and rough thrusts, as if not caring about his own pleasure.

Your dick creates a belly bulge while you can see how his hot throat stretches, taking the form of a new dick, ready to fill his pretty empty mouth again; saliva drips from his mouth from the inability to cope well with simultaneous thrusts, making him to squirm under you from pleasure and the need to get more — intersecting with your strong holding of his upturned legs, forcing him only to accept and work obediently, counting only on your desire or unwillingness to reward him, if he won't be diligent enough for you.

When his mouth carefully licks each cock, taking care to pay attention to each of them, until your hand grabs his hair and forces him to focus only on one, sticking his nose into your pubic hair despite his inarticulate moans and whining when you move his head too slowly, teasing with a lack of sensations. Yuuta's look is so resentfully pitiful, almost meekly dissatisfied, wanting to reproach you for meanness, — but unable to even move until you allow it, drooling when you finally give him the opportunity to take you to the end again, fucking his throat, already ready to swallow everything you give him.

But even when you cum inside, Yuuta has no way to tell you anything, feeling a new hand tangled in his hair, waiting for him to take one dick out of his mouth to replace it with another, taking advantage of his complete defenselessness and inability to refuse.

... However, Yuuta's stomach becomes even more cute when he grabs your shoulders, whimpering and breathing heavily when two cocks push into his hot, unable to cope with what is happening body, allowing you to stretch him to such a state that he can not breathe normally, looking at how his flat tummy is trying to take in even more, being unable to prevent you from making a pretty cumdump out of him.

While your dicks find a way to get even deeper, being tightly squeezed by him, but not experiencing any problems because of this, squeezing and caressing his sensitive body; when you coo how diligently he tries to prevent you, only to still be well bred and full of you in the end, like your good pretty whore, loving take as many cocks as he can until he is completely filled and unable to cope with everyone — as if it's your fault that Yuuta is so greedy and depraved, craving more than he can satisfy.

When Yuuta turns out to be completely stuffed, he so charmingly gasps for air, without taking his wet adoring gaze from his stomach, squeezing you with all his strength, not letting you push back until he is satisfied with the view — and you don't bother him at all, knowing that in the near future he will only be able to scream and whine until his voice breaks while you stuff him with your cum. Your hands grabbing his hair while his body is clumsily trying to follow the confused rhythm of filling, the meaning of which is only that he does not remain without attention for a second; even then Yuuta is trying to tell you something, he is giving up when your hand slaps him on the thigh, assuring that you will definitely listen to him when he takes care of all these cocks that also need his attention like those that are inside him.

When all the attention is focused only on him as the main star of this show, where, even when you fuck him until his body becomes stretched and gaping, soaked in your and his juices, he is the only one whose mood is of paramount importance, since your gaze is not reduced to him and his reaction — while you hold his hands tightly, giving each version a round to fill him with semen so that his stomach is rounded, or make him swallow every dick until Yuuta feels full, warming up from constant touches and friction that do not allow his body to cool down once all the time. Tell him he looks so cute, or what a slut he is, or how you can't take your eyes off him, he takes your breath away while literally choking on your dick — and cums so many times that can't count anymore, letting you just have fun and use him as you want, going too deep into a process to focus on something else.

Your attention-loving showboy, showing a peace sign when you ask him to show you whether he likes what is happening — such a whore for attention <3

[effervescentdragon]

sebchal + magic au

"It's a dangerous idea," Pierre had told him when Charles, stupidly, amateurishly, got just a bit too drunk the last time they went out and found himself telling his best friend more than he intended to. "And what's even worse, it's a stupid idea."

"You're stupid," Charles had said, stupidly, and drank the rest of Pierre's Red Bull-vodka. Pierre didn't even notice, staring at Charles like a wide-eyed lemur. Or maybe a meerkat? Charles was never good at animal species. He prefered demon classifications.

"No, I'm pretty sure you're being stupid just now, calamar. Do you even know what all can go wrong?" Pierre had asked.

"Yes," Charles had replied, insulted. "I read, Pear. And I studied the ritual in detail."

Pierre huffed in what Charles was sure was derision. He reached for the drink that wasn't there. Charles played stupid (hah) as Pierre refilled both their glasses. "You could lose your soul if you do the binding wrong. Or your virginity." He paused. "Or, you know. A limb."

Charles frowned. "I'm not a virgin."

Pierre laughed that fox-like laugh of his that always grated on Charles' nerves.

"A blowjob doesn't count." Charles felt himself blush as Pierre leered at him. "No matter how good it was."

"Fuck you, Pear," he mumbled and used the momentary distraction of Pierre's laughter to change the Red Bull in his drink into Monster, just because he could. "You're so full of yourself."

Pierre shrugged. "I give good blowjobs." His face turned somber. "I just don't understand. Why do you need to do it?"

Need, Pierre had said. Not want. That may be why Charles answered truthfully.

"I need to prove how strong I am to them," he had said, much more softly than he wanted. "I need them to understand. I need them to choose me." His voice was steady, but he knew his hands were shaking.

Pierre hadn't said anything after that. What could he say, really, when he understood intimately what drove Charles to even contemplate this? What could Pierre say, when his own binding ritual had failed, and ge was discarded into a lower class, with empty promises of some future, second chance that was no more than courtesy and placating? He just added more vodka to Charles' glass, and moved so he sat closer to Charles on the couch.

Being where he was right now, Charles kind of wished Pierre had pushed, had insisted on talking some more about what Charles was going to do.

"You're very beautiful."

Well. Technically, what Charles had already done. Did. Was about to do. Stupid semantics.

"I, uh, thank you?" Charles replied, confused and scared in about the same amount, which was quite a lot.

The demon standing in the middle or the ritual square licked its lips. His lips. Whatever.

"You're welcome," he purred, and Charles felt himself blush, like an idiot. Or a virgin, he thought. The demon's smile widened. "Oh, you're going to be interesting, aren't you?"

"I am going to be binding you," Charles replied. The demon's smile didn't falter. "I need you -"

"Oh, do you?" The demon leered. Its- his, it took a male form, and it was an appealing form, to Charles' despair. Blond curls, wide smile, and blue, blue eyes which looked black when the candle light hit them right. "And what do you need me for, Charles Leclerc?"

Charles didn't flinch. He knew this level demons had telekinetic and telepathic abilities and so he anticipated the demon would know certain things about him. True, the summoning ritual wasn't quite as it was supposed to be, as it was described in the grimoire. The shadows coalescing were much thicker than Charles expected from a Level Four demon, and the feeling of thunder and heat and monsoon wasn't really what he had been expecting. There was also the small matter of that moment of absolute darkness which seemed to last less than a second and more than a century simultaneously, and the way Charles' very magic seemed to burn around him in the air ever since the demon appeared. It was probably the adjusted summoning circle. The square was Charles' own idea, based on studying interdimensional geometry and runes in his spare time. It was nothing to worry about. Really. It was nothing.

Charles inhaled deeply, sulfur and incence filling his mouth and nose. "I need you to give me your price for a low-level binding. I need you for fifty-four hours, until midnight Monday, so I can show my Instructors that I have managed the Level Four binding." The demon's eyebrows went up, but Charles couldn't decipher it- his expression, so he went on. "I will give you an Oath on my magic that after the alloted time period, I will dissolve our binding. Oh, and that I will not try to amend the parameters of our agreement at any point, unless we both agree of our own free will that the parameters should be amended."

The demon kept silent for a while after Charles finished his speech. The candles flickered over his face, and Charles couldn't catch any emotion in his eyes. They were really pretty eyes, and intense, and Charles forced himself not to follow that train of thought because, well. Telepathic demon. Not smart to give him more ammunition against Charles. Demons were, at their core, deceivers.

As if he heard Charles' last thought, the demon laughed. "That's an interesting proposal. And what would you need me to do for you in these fifty-four hours, Charles Leclerc? Which desires of yours am I to fulfill, with my Level Four powers?" he asked, and his voice was ice.

Charles blinked. "Uh." The demon kept staring at him. "I don't - nothing?" The demon's eyebrow rose. "I mean, it's - it's pretty obvious that you're a demon, and our binding would show to any magic user with enough power to discern, which my Instructors have. I wouldn't - I don't need, or want you to do magic tricks? That's not - I don't think you'd appreciate that very much?" he ended on a question, and if it wasn't absurd, he'd think that the demon looked bewildered. He shut his mouth and tried not to shuffle in his place, and was determined to wait the demon out.

The demon sat down in the middle of the circle suddenly. "Sit," he ordered, and Charles did so before he could think about it. It wasn't a - he wasn't compelled by the demon's magic. It was worse than that, but the demon spoke again before Charles could die of mortification because of his stupid kinks.

"I can see the insignia on your bracelet. You are a Cavallino?" The demon asked, and the way his tongue curled around the word Cavallino spoke of danger to Charles.

"Yes," he replied as calmly as he could. "I am in their training programme, but I am hoping this binding will show the leadership that I can become a full-fledged acolyte."

The demon hummed. His tail - and fuck, how did Charles not notice his tail, red and scaly, fuck - came up, and the demon petted it. "I see. And how did you choose me for your binding?"

"I read through the Grimoires," Charles said. "There are books in the library, books that we have to read. But I found a grimoire that wasn't on the curriculum, a hand-written one by a former, old Cavallino acolyte - Vettel, his name was," Charles said, and the demon pierced him with his gaze. His eyes were pitch black now, and Charles put his hands in his lap so as not to wring them under the demon's furious gaze. "He - he must have lived a long time ago, and must have been under the patronage of Master Schumacher, because I found some texts - but never mind." He cut himself off, because he had the tendency to ramble, and he didn't think the demon was interested.

"Anyways, he hypothesised heavily about certain things. Different ways of summoning, and binding, which did not have to be as - as final, and as..." he trailed off, wondering if he should tell the demon this. It was against the Guild's policy, but he also didn't want to lie to a proper demon. He didn't want to get murdered, or eaten. "Vettel hypothesised that the bindings did not have to be so imbalanced in power. That the demons didn't have to be - slaves, to us mages. And I," he swallowed, kewping eye contact, " I don't much care for slavery. Even if it's a demon in question."

The demon's tail twitched. "You are speaking the truth," he said, and Charles let out a short, nervous breath. "So you went through all the trouble to adapt the standard summoning ritual into this, on the off chance that this Vettel was right?" Charles nodded. "So that you wouldn't have to enslave a demon, despite us being the biggest evil out there?"

Charles scoffed. At the demon's questioning expression, he spoke, somewhat too empathetically, perhaps, but still the truth. "I've seen evil men can do. I've seen evil mages are capable off. I don't think demons are the worst evil out there. Your kind can't help but be who and what you are. For me, human evil is worse, because for us, at least there is a choice. To be bad, or to be good. And that makes all the difference, and illustrates monstrosity as very much a human condition."

The silence that fell between them wasn't opressive per se as much as it was significant. Charles thought of the Bulls, and what they did to their acolytes who didn't reach their standards. He thought of the Silver Arrows, and of the ice cold of their pragmatism. He thought of his own Cavallinos, and the atmosphere that sometimes felt fundamentally tainted, like a spell that misfired. The demon wasn't looking at Charles as he thought on world-knew-what, his eyes far away and long unseeing of the things before him. Of Charles.

"My price," the demon suddenly said, and Charles did flinch this time, lost in his own musings of hypocrisy and secrets, "is for you to listen to a story I will tell you in full." Charles said nothing. "My condition is that you listen to a story I will tell you, about betrayal, and things worse than murder, and corruption, and the vileness of humans sesuced by the promises of power, and that you listen to it from start to finish and think on it, and then tell me if you still wish to bind me to you and parade me before your Cavallino leadership." Charles' heart was beating wildly in his chest. "And after you listen to it, if you are still of the same opinion about certain things, I will let you bind me." The demon grinned. "And I shall not harm you lest you seek to harm me, and I may not even take you virginity." Charles blushed. "Accept you these terms, Charles Leclerc?"

There was a crackling of electricity and thunder in the air as Charles said "I do."

The demon nodded. "Good." He smiled. It was a smile with too many teeth. The shadows around the room coalesced, condensed, and Charles' skin broke out in goosebumps as the demon's strength suddenly surged forward. The light from the candles brightened into balls of light, and the crackling of the electricity in the air became even stronger. It did not feel malicious to Charles, though. Not at all. He settled more comfortably on the floor and tangled his fingers. "I am listening."

"You are, aren't you," demon remarked to himself, his eyes closed. "Alright."

When the demon opened his eyes, they were the bright blue Charles had only ever seen in the paintings of angels. "You made a mistake, Charles Leclerc. You thought you were summoning a low, Level Four demon, but you were not." Charles' breath caught in his throat as the demon spoke from what sounded like a hunder voices at once. There was a huge shadow behind him, and Charles realised in that moment it was a shadow of wings. Fuck, he though. What the fuck. Demons don't have wings. What the fuck, he kept thinking as the demon spread his wings and his arms and laughed loudly.

"I am a Level One demon, Charles Leclerc," he said, and Charles blanched, because - those were fallen - impossible - no no no, he thought. The demon pinned Charles to his place merely by the inhuman blue glow of those eyes, and said the words that would change Charles' life, and the fate of the world.

"My name is Sebastian Vettel, and I am going to tell you my story."