#it didn’t occur to me to have them as the lovers until I finished so

[husshow]

the star and the world

[hayakawalove]

Second Chance

Summary: After a battle with you, Suguru finds himself back at Jujutsu High with a major head injury. He doesn't remember any of the events that occurred over the past couple of years, including his defection. Will you be able to give him a second chance, or is it already too late?

A/N: Big shout out to @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat for discussing this with me. They are wonderful and their work is phenomenal, please check them out. I hope you all enjoy! The idea just seemed so interesting to me. How would reader act if they saw Suguru again, and he didn't remember anything? I'm sorry for the ending. I hope you'll forgive me! Comments are appreciated!

CW: Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Amnesia, Flashbacks, Death, Friends to Lovers

W/C: 4,791

Credit to cafekitsune for the banner

Silky hair and chapped lips. 

You’ve seen this man before, but never like this. You don’t know how long you’ve been sitting here, hours you think. Shoko has come in with food twice, but you’ve turned her down both times. It’s hard to have an appetite like this. There’s an endless pit in your stomach, the anxiety clawing at your insides like a demon. 

He’s changed. His hair is a bit longer, muscles a bit bigger. You can’t see his eyes, but you think they’re probably more cynical than they were several years ago. You deduce by the lines on his face that he still smiles the same. That angers you. 

You feel like the clock in the room is too loud. When you look around, you notice there isn't a clock. It’s just your heartbeat in your ears. It hurts how loud it is. 

You were a bit surprised Suguru showed his face. He avoided everyone, and everyone avoided him. For a while you thought maybe that would make it hurt less. You’ve grown to learn there’s nothing you can do to make it hurt less. 

Suguru was hurt. More hurt than you’ve seen him in a while. It was weird seeing him injured, it was even more weird knowing you were the one who caused it. Suguru was stronger than you. He always has been. Because of this fact, you can’t help but think that maybe he let you win. 

It was a laughable assumption. You knew there wasn’t a world in which he would give up that easily to you. But you couldn’t shake the idea no matter how much you tried. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

When Suguru fell to his knees you had a split second to make a decision. You could finish it all. Kill him. It was exactly what he deserved. There was a small voice in the back of your brain though, telling you you couldn’t kill him. You didn’t know if that was true. You suppose it was, because you dragged his body back to the school despite everything in your body telling you not to. 

It took a lot of convincing to find a room fit enough to hold Suguru. The higher ups were afraid he may do something drastic, but you knew better. After everything he’s done, he’s never gone after other sorcerers. “Just for now.” They told you. He can stay here until they figure out what to do with him.

A finger twitch. 

Any exhaustion that you may have felt was eradicated instantly. You stare at his fingers, praying to yourself it was fake, praying to yourself it was real. 

Lashes flutter and you’re met with caramel eyes. 

Words get caught in your throat, so all you do is stare. He was awake. He was awake and looking at you. Suguru. Memories flash through your brain of the childhood you once shared, happiness and youth flowing through your veins. You may have seen him earlier during your fight, but you didn’t see him, not really anyway. Not like this. Not up close where you could see your own reflection in his eyes.

He stares back, widening his eyes to wake himself up even more. 

Who was going to speak first? 

What would you say? 

Would he-

“Jellybean.”

There’s no ticking anymore. You think your heart has stopped, the sound no longer driving your thoughts. 

That was the nickname he had for you before he left. You aren’t even sure how he came up with it, you don't even remember when he came up with it. The only thing you could remember was how it sounded when it flowed through his lips. Just like that. It sounded just like that. 

Your mouth is glued shut as you look at him. Something is different. Something is wrong. The air around him feels different compared to hours ago. It’s not as heavy. His eyes flick around, taking in all the details of the room. 

“Geto.” You murmur. 

You use his family name out of spite, deciding that he doesn’t deserve to hear you speak his given name. 

Suguru’s brows furrow for a moment, as if surprised to hear you call him that. His gaze trails down to the handcuffs binding him. You know he wants to ask why, but he doesn’t. 

“What happened?” 

He couldn’t remember? It was hard to believe. Memories from your fight were replaying in your mind for hours. 

“You’re joking, right?” You ask. 

“Why would I be joking?”

Fine. You may as well go along with it.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” 

Suguru attempts to sit up but he doesn’t get very far. Pain is etched in his face as he moves. 

“I remember watching the stars.” 

It was something the two of you did together. 

You hadn’t done it in years. 

The last time you star gazed together was a couple of weeks before he left. 

“What do you mean?” You press. 

“I’m guessing more time has passed, you don’t look the same.” He has a thoughtful expression on his face as he takes in your features. 

He’s right. You don’t look the same. You don’t feel the same, either. Where he had smile lines, you now had worry lines. Your lips were set in a permanent frown. 

“You would be correct.” 

“How much time has passed?” 

You don’t really know how to respond to him. You can’t tell him it’s been years. You’re sure that would hurt him. You don’t know why you care about his feelings, when he showed you he didn’t care about yours. 

“A while.” You try to reign in the edge of your voice, but it’s hard.

Emotions you hadn’t thought about in years were beginning to stir inside you. 

“Why am I bound?”

“Safety precaution.”

He thinks on your response before resting his head back. If he doesn’t remember the past several years, that means he doesn’t remember what he did. 

Was that even possible? Forgetting years of memories sounded far fetched. You wanted to believe he was lying, perhaps playing some cruel joke on you. But as you look at him, your heart tugs. He looks like the old Suguru. He feels like the old Suguru. 

“What’s wrong?”

What’s wrong? He didn’t get to ask that. Not when he’s the one who put you in this mess. Not when you were unsure of what was even right. 

“You don’t get to ask that.” You bite back. 

He has the audacity to look hurt by the tone of your voice. 

The room grows quiet at your reply. He was done asking questions. Good, you think. You weren’t sure how much more of it you could take.

You call Shoko to assess him. When she arrives, she doesn’t tell you much more than you already know. He’s lost his memory, probably due to a head injury sustained in the fight. How he lost so many years, she couldn’t tell you. Shoko is stiff as she examines Suguru, even more quiet than she usually is. It’s hard to watch. It doesn’t go past Suguru, but then again nothing ever goes past him.

She waits for you outside the room, tired eyes following your figure as you close the door behind you. 

“Should I tell the higher ups?” She asks. 

“Probably. It’s not a secret that he’s here anyway.”

“And Gojo?” 

The mention of his name cuts you like a blade. You hadn’t even thought of him. Did that make you selfish? 

If anyone in the world should know about Suguru, it’s his other half. Gojo knows he’s here, but he doesn’t know the full extent of it. He doesn’t know that Suguru forgot everything. 

“Yeah- you should,” you downcast your gaze. “You should tell him.” 

What would his reaction be? You weren’t really sure. The man had become so detached from the events that had happened all those years ago. He never spoke about Suguru anymore, and would shut down the conversation anytime you tried to talk about it. 

“Alright, but” Shoko says your name and steps closer. “Keep an eye on him.” 

The way she says it sounds like a warning. Not like advice from one caring friend to another. 

“Why? You don’t believe him?” 

“I don’t know. It’s certainly possible. There’s also a chance his memory could come back. Who knows what would happen if that was the case. Just be careful.” 

You have to fight to swallow the rocks in your throat. She was right. Anything could happen. You should be scared. You know that. But there’s a deep part of you that had wanted this to occur. You wanted to have him back, no matter how hard you tried to fight it.

He betrayed you. He hurt you. He was the villain in your story. 

Even still. Even still. 

He was your friend. Your best friend. 

You wave Shoko off before leaning against the door. You release a long sigh, trying to collect yourself before going back into the room. You were going to have to get through this one way or another. You just hoped it would be as painless as possible. 

~~~

“What’s wrong?” He asks once more. 

It’s been a week, and he’s been acting the same way the whole time. In the beginning, you almost thought it would be a ruse. Now, you were certain it wasn’t. 

No one could keep up this ignorant act for that long. Not even Suguru. 

“Nothing.” Your reply is curt. 

You were less angry now. Still hurt, but you were confused more than anything. There were two parts of you, playing tug of war with your heart. Your past and present, fighting for a chance to control you. Your past self wanted to pretend everything was okay, but your present self was screaming at the top of their lungs trying to warn you not to get too close.

Suguru’s lip twitches. It always used to do that. You hate that you remember all of his quirks still like the back of your hand. You tried to forget them, but it was a fruitless endeavor. 

They were a part of you, tattooed on your soul.

“Come on. You know you can’t lie to me.” 

He was right. As much as you were acquainted with his quirks, he was acquainted with yours. If you were being completely honest with yourself, he probably knew you better than you knew him. You never wanted to believe that, but you learned that it was the truth the hard way. 

“No, but I can try real hard.” 

You didn’t know what to tell him even if you wanted to. Where would you even begin? Suguru had turned into the very thing he had been fighting against for years. If you spoke the words into existence, they would become real. Suguru was a monster.

How could you possibly tell him that?

Suguru cracks a grin and you feel like you’re free falling. It was the same smile you grew up with. 

He always graced you with that grin when offering you a cold soda. When you begged him to hold your phone so you could run through the sprinklers. When you stayed up way past your bedtime just so you could talk a little bit longer. 

You hate it. You hate it. You hate it. 

You hate that he’s having this effect on you. Making you melt in his hands as if he hadn’t ripped your heart out. As if the last couple of years didn’t happen at all.

As you repeat the words to yourself you realize it’s a farce. It didn’t matter how much you told yourself you hated him and never wanted to see him again, it simply wasn’t true.

“I suppose so.” He sighs, resting against his hands.

You’re glad he’s dropped the matter. You were unsure how much longer of this you could take. Being in the room with him was suffocating, made even worse when he tried to prod at you. 

You quickly realized leaving his side was just as, if not more awful than being with him. You were constantly wondering how he was, if his memories had come back. It was terrible. 

~~~

Suguru was nearly all healed up. His memories still hadn’t come back, which put the Jujutsu society in shambles. The higher ups wanted to execute him. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t remember what he’d done. But there were others who wanted him to become a sorcerer once more. 

If he didn’t have any past memories, they could mold him into a hero again. 

You think part of that pressure was a factor in why he left. A man gifted with powers that were out of this world. Neither him or Gojo had much of a say in how they operated before, being used like puppets in a game. Their entire high school career was like that, at least until Suguru forced open a new path.

You hated that the sorcerers thought that, that they wanted to use him like that. But you understood it. 

Suguru was an asset, you would have to be blind not to acknowledge that. 

Then there was Gojo. He didn’t have much of an opinion. Maybe he did, but he never said anything. Never spoke his mind one way or the other. On the outside it almost seemed he was impartial to the decision, but you knew that couldn’t be true. 

It must hurt for him just like it hurts for you. 

Although he has the added responsibility of being the executioner, the ax that will swing down if Suguru is decided to be irredeemable. 

You stride by Suguru, the two of you deciding to go on a walk this morning. His steps are small, walking slowly in order to remain at your pace. When you were in school he did the same thing. Never too fast, never too slow. 

The two of you weren’t even supposed to be out of the room he was placed in. Who knows what would happen if the higher ups found out you had been taking him on excursions? 

But you just couldn’t not bring him outside. The room he was being kept in was so small and suffocating. Everytime you mentioned doing something outside of it, you would catch a glint in his eye. He was envious. Of course he never said anything. That wasn’t in his nature. He would smile and nod, listen to your stories while pushing down his own desires to explore. 

You felt for him. You couldn’t even begin to imagine what it was like to be confined to a bed, awaiting your sentencing for a crime you didn’t even remember committing. So what if you snuck him out? It was only for a day. Nobody had to know.

The school grounds were relatively quiet, giving you the perfect opportunity to walk around. For how mad you initially were, you sure were crumbling fast. It was hard to maintain your disposition. Suguru was back, and that’s what you had wanted for years. 

“You hurt a lot of people.” You say, figuring you should finally clue him in.

The words taste bitter on your tongue. It feels like the understatement of the century. 

“How many?” He responds. 

You don’t say anything. You don’t say anything because you aren’t sure what to say. You had no idea how many people Suguru killed. And even if you did, you aren’t sure you would be able to tell him. 

Suguru picks up on your expression. 

“That many?” He murmurs.

You look away as if you’ve been caught in a lie. The clock (your heart) is back, and it won’t stop ticking. It’s hard to breathe under the heat of his gaze, under the pressure of reality. 

“That many.” 

You could tell that it was hard to believe for him. It was hard for you to believe, too. You wonder what’s going through his mind. The Suguru you once knew would never dream of hurting anyone.

“They want to kill you.” You go on. May as well lay it all on the table right now.

You assumed he probably already knew. You wanted to say the words anyway, to dispel any assumption that things would go back to normal once he was released. Then again, you weren’t really sure what normal meant anymore. 

“I see.” 

Suguru doesn’t argue back. He never does. Not like Gojo, who could argue until his face was red. Suguru doesn’t try to plead his case because he isn’t able to. What’s done was done. Even if he doesn’t remember it.

An unassuming man on death row. 

You tell yourself it wouldn’t hurt if he was being killed if he maintained his memories. That wasn’t the case, though. The man who was being put on trial for execution was your Suguru. 

The Suguru you grew up with. The Suguru who would fight for you. The Suguru you loved more than anything. The Suguru before he broke your heart. 

(You tell yourself they’re two different people, two different Suguru’s, the before and after. But you know that’s not true. Whether you liked it or not, it was the same man.)

“You didn’t like nonsorcerers.” You say. The wind brushes his hair from his face. “What do you think about them now? How do you feel about helping them?” 

His eyes flicker over the school. You wonder what he’s thinking. Is he remembering your childhood? For you, it had been years, but to him it felt like yesterday. You also were struck with memories of your childhood when you looked at the school, but they turned your stomach sour. 

“It makes me angry. I want to help them, they need it. But it hurts to see our friends die.” It was more than he had ever told you before. “What about you?” 

“I don’t mind.” You didn’t mind helping them in the same sense that you didn’t mind doing laundry. 

The task never ended. It was monotonous.

You had walked a full circle around the school, finally coming to a stop underneath a tree. It was the same tree you and Suguru had relaxed under many times before. It only made sense that your feet would carry you here. 

The two of you don’t share any more words, instead opting for a moment of silence. It was nice. Being under this tree with him. You needed it. As the wind kisses your skin you feel hopeful. Maybe he could be fixed. He just told you he wants to help. Maybe you could convince the higher ups he wasn’t a lost cause. Maybe you could save him. 

A form of repentance for your ignorance all those years ago.

~~~

The only sound coming from your room was the quiet lull of the TV. You had been up for hours, but you still weren’t tired.

Suguru was with you. He was clad in a large shirt with baggy pajama pants.

His presence was calming. Every night he made his way to your room to lay with you. 

It didn’t matter that neither of you slept for hours after he visited. You felt safe, and that was the important part. 

“Are you ready for tomorrow?” You ask, looking up at Suguru. 

You were laying on your bed, Suguru sitting at your side. He’s flicking through your TV, uninterested in everything that was playing at this hour. 

“Yeah, shouldn’t be too hard. I’ll have Satoru with me.” 

Both boys were assigned on a top secret mission tomorrow. The only issue was that “top secret” hardly meant anything to Gojo. He blabbed about it the second he was excused from Yaga’s office. The two had to escort the star plasma vessel. An extremely vital task, an honor that wouldn’t have been bestowed upon just anybody. Of course the two special grades were assigned to do it. 

“And you’ll be there as well. You’re just as strong as him.” 

“For now.” 

You pout your lip out as you look at him. Suguru was always humble, but his humbleness was turning into self doubt these days. Of course it was hard to compare yourself to Gojo. He was almost a prophet. 

It didn’t help that all of the adults compared the two boys. Suguru was trying his hardest, wasn’t that all that mattered? 

“You’re stronger than me, if it’s any consolation.” You reply. 

It’s hard to know how to comfort him. He wasn’t wrong in thinking Gojo would surpass him, but you didn’t want him believing that meant he was less than. 

Suguru looks at you and grins, pinching your cheek. He chuckles softly at the way you cry, pushing his hand away. The TV was set on some childhood cartoon, a show you knew Suguru didn’t watch. Gojo did, though. You imagine it brought comfort to Suguru. He leaves it on in the background as he lays beside you. 

His body heat brings about more warmth than any blanket could conjure up. You use all of your willpower to not snuggle up to him. 

“Do you wanna do anything when I get back?” He questions.

The proposition almost sounds like a date. It could be one, you think. The feelings you share for each other is no secret, it’s as blatant as can be. Neither of you acted on them, though. It was almost like a game, it was fun. 

You thought you had all the time in the world. 

(Oh how wrong you were.)

One of you would make the first move, but for now you tiptoed the line between just being friends and something more.

“What would you want to do?” You close your eyes as you strain your ears to pick up on his voice. 

You don’t see it, but his gaze is set on you. Picking out the details on your face. 

“Anything.” 

You grin, your body beginning to feel weightless. It was always easier to sleep with him around. You begin to think about the adventures you could go on tomorrow, the options were limitless. He was right. You guys really could do anything. It didn’t matter, as long as he was by your side everything would be okay. 

Everything would be okay.

~~~

The higher ups had made their decision. Suguru was not going to live to see another day.

It stings when you hear the news. You don’t remember who told you, all you can remember is the way it made you feel. Like you’re drowning. 

Were you so naive as to think you could change the outcome of anything? 

That you could even save him?

The sun is shining when the day comes to execute Suguru. Birds are chirping, the temperature isn’t too hot and your world is falling apart once more. 

You thought you didn’t care about him anymore. 

Silly you. 

Maybe you would never stop caring for him. He was too intertwined with your soul. 

“You have one hour.” The news is delivered to you. 

Suguru hasn’t spoken a word to you all day. It’s not because he’s angry, no, he’s quite at peace with what's happening. 

He doesn't know everything he did, but he understands that this is what needs to happen. There can be no Suguru Geto, for the betterment of society. 

Regardless of what’s better for you.

It’s sick how depressed you feel. 

Your head is pounding and your stomach has been flipped upside down all morning. You don’t know why it’s such a shock to you. You knew this was coming. Deep down, you knew the odds of him making it out alive were slim. 

Maybe a part of you thought they would change their minds, and that you and Suguru could run into the sunset. 

What a fucking joke. 

“It’ll be okay.” Suguru murmurs in an effort to help you. 

He’s comforting you? He’s the one on death row yet he’s worried about your feelings? 

That was so like Suguru. 

Your Suguru. 

His wording is funny, too. He says “it will be okay” instead of “you will be okay”. He would never tell you how you’re going to feel, but he does know everything else would be okay. 

The world will keep spinning and the sun will keep shining once he’s dead and gone. No matter how much you wish it wouldn't. 

The world didn’t need Suguru, but you did. God, you did. 

You’ve survived this long without him, but at what cost? Your sanity? Your youth? You were a husk of a person since he left, but you at least knew he was out there somewhere. You wouldn't have such comfort anymore. 

“I don’t want it to be okay.” You reply. 

And you really didn’t. You wanted the world to crumble in his absence, just like you had. 

He smoothes his hand over yours, heat spreading throughout you. 

“I have to atone for my sins.” Suguru says your name like a prayer, watching as you shiver beside his bed. 

Suguru was right. You knew he was right. 

“What if you didn’t have to? What if I,” you begin. “What if we leave?” 

You snap your head up to look at him through bleary vision. There’s a small smile on his face as he watches you, like a parent placating a child. 

“And went where?” 

“Anywhere!” 

“No.” His response is curt. 

He reaches a hand up to cup your face. The tears have poured over your lash line now, and they won’t stop. 

It was happening all over again. He was leaving you again. 

“How can you do this to me?” You cry.

Suguru’s hand drops and his lips pull down a little. It must have stung when you said that. You don’t care that it hurts him. You’re hurting, and he could stop the pain if only he fought back. 

He scoots to the side of the bed to create room for you. He doesn't even have to tell you to get in before you’re hopping up, sliding down into his side. 

“I’m sorry.” 

You don’t want his sorry’s. You want him. 

Your hands curl up in the fabric of his shirt, tugging it as you cry beside him. There’s an hour left and you aren’t sure you’ll be able to compose yourself before then. You don’t think you’ll ever be able to compose yourself. 

Suguru’s hand runs through your hair as you release all of the pent up emotions. To mourn someone before they’re even dead is a difficult feat, and you’ve managed to do it twice for him. 

Will it be fast? Will it hurt? 

“You have to go, they’ll be here soon.” 

“I’m not- I’m not going anywhere.” You pull him closer. 

You would have to be dragged away. You were seeing this through to the end. He needed someone before he died. He needed someone now because he never had anyone before. 

Suguru releases a shaky breath and holds you against his frame. You memorize the way he feels beside you, the smell of his skin against yours. You never really forgot, but you wanted to indulge one last time. 

There’s foot fall outside the door and you bury your face in his chest, pleading for the universe to be kinder to you. 

“I love you, you know that right?” His voice cracks. 

“I love you, I love you Suguru, please don't let them take you,” 

You can hear his heart shatter, but it could just be a reflection of your own.

“Take care of yourself, okay?” He’s kissing your cheek, licking the salty remnants from his lips. 

Was he kidding? You wouldn't be able to take care of yourself, not like he could. Not like he did. 

The door creaks open and you slam your eyes shut. Not yet. You weren’t finished. You needed more time. 

Without taking a peek, you already know it’s Gojo who’s standing in the doorway. You don’t catch the somber gaze he shares with Suguru. 

At least it was going to be Gojo who did it. He would make it as painless as possible. 

You force Gojo to work around you. You intended to keep your promise. You weren’t going to leave Suguru, not until you had to. 

“I’ll be waiting.” Suguru murmurs in your ear. 

It’s over quicker than you were expecting. Suguru goes still in your arms, heavy hands loosening from your body.

You stay with him until he’s become stiff. Only leaving once you’re forcefully removed. 

There’s static in your ears as you’re dragged back to your room. It was finally over. The last page to a macabre book. 

You knew it hurt to lose him, you’ve done that before. 

But to really lose him? 

It’s a pain you will never get over.

Tag List: @tojislittleprincesss, @kimi01985, @sad-darksoul, @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni, @mikisspeak, @dinolvrrr. @sakui1, @reiluvr, @gothicwhore666, @bunviixo

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[actiniumwrites]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐅 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐓

synopsis: in which you play the bandit in zosimos’ play, aka kaeya’s counterpart. when an unscripted moment occurs between the two of you on stage, you can’t help but realize your feelings for him are all but lost

characters: kaeya x gn!reader

wc: 1.1k

warnings: fluff, friends to lovers, like one cuss word, takes place in the 3.8 summer event, this was entirely written at midnight last night in one setting (so it might be ass)

notes: i absolutely loved this event and had to write something for kaeya! this definitely could have been a small scene in a bigger fic, but i feel like it worked as a drabble. also, i may or may not have a really long fic being written for him 👀 apologies if you’re reading this in the future and didn’t get to play the event and have zero clue what’s going on 😭

Damn these lights!

A subtle burning on both corners of either of your eyes was all you could focus on. The orange was coming from the left, while the blue was coming from the right. The intensity of each of them guaranteed you a painful headache later — a thought you had to send away before you groaned, an action that was certainly not within the script.

The sides of your lips were pulling downward against your will and your foot was starting to slip just a tad bit to the side. Any longer and you felt like you were going to collapse. Kaeya was taking too long to recite his lines, going all in with the theatrics and intense emotions. His hands waved dramatically in the air and his voice was booming, even though the crowd consisted entirely of your friends. If he could just hurry up and walk over to where you were stuck posing upright, then you could finally act out the final scene of Zosimos’ play and finish fixing the domain like you were supposed to be doing.

Admittedly, you had no intention of joining the play when Zosimos first announced he needed help with it. In fact, the script originally didn’t even include your character, The Bandit. It wasn’t until Zosimos came rushing out of his writing room complaining something was wrong with the script that he had somehow found a way to force you into the whole ordeal.

“Me?!” Your eyes widened when he pointed in your general direction. Honestly, you were barely even paying attention to the guy. So when he suddenly started pointing fingers and incoherently mumbling ideas about a new character, you were certainly startled.

“Yes! You!” he beamed with excitement and started shuffling around for a paper and pen, “I was just observing you and your boyfriend here, and suddenly I got the idea! You’ll be the thief’s sidekick: the bandit who he saved from a life of crime. Your real life dynamic is nothing but perfect for the role!”

Your eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets when you realized what he said, “Huh? Hey, wait! Kaeya isn’t my—!”

He rushed off before you could correct him, laughing to himself and eagerly looking for some ink to adjust his script. Whether he heard you or not, it was obvious the playwright didn’t care. His mind was made up on the idea and you knew that there was no changing a mind like his.

Now you were stuck in this predicament. Eyes burning, leg cramping, and desperately wanting to go home to save yourself from the embarrassment of having zero acting skills. That and the fact that Kaeya and the others couldn’t help but tease you to no end after Zosimos’ assumption.

“I’m back!” Kaeya said as he walked over to you, snapping you out of your thoughts. Quickly, you returned to acting like your character. A bright smile pulled at the sides of your lips when you saw the prop in his hands. You had to stop yourself from squinting at it and ruining the scene. While your character was supposed to be happy, you were certainly not.

Kaeya moved slightly in front of you, shielding you from some of the harsh lights. The orange one still caught your side, lighting you as if you were standing amidst a beautiful sunset. And star props hanging above the stage gently reflected across your irises, almost like you had stars in your eyes. You looked up at your counterpart and breathed out as a your character slowly realized what was going on, “You…you got it? The darkness is finally over?”

Kaeya held his breath as he looked at you, stunned at the way you looked in all the stage lights and the beautifully sewn costume Idyia had tailored to you. His hands cupped themselves around yours and he pulled you in closer, “That’s right…we can finally live together in peace.”

His blue eyes were a much gentler sight to look at, contrasting the intense lights all around you. Kaeya leaned in gently, ready to pose for the final scene as Zosimos prepared to give his final narration and end the play.

When a few seconds passed and nothing was being said, your head tilted slightly past his shoulder so you could peer into the tiny crowd and figure out what was going on. All of them were sitting on the edge of their seats, enthralled by the sight in front of them, eagerly anticipating what was coming next — even the ever so apathetic Eula seemed to be waiting carefully. You quietly clear your throat, hoping the playwright would hear, but it seemed he too couldn’t tear his eyes away. Kaeya’s hand gently left one of your hands and reached up to meet your cheek, cupping it slightly and pulling you in.

“Wait, this wasn’t part of the script—” you hurriedly whisper and quickly glance between him and the crowd, but Kaeya cuts you off when his lips meet yours. He leans you back slightly, but pulls you in with the hand on the lower part of your back. It’s desperate, messy, but over far too quickly for your liking. He’s smiling into the kiss and it doesn’t leave his face when he pulls away and glances into your eyes for a split second before turning to the crowd. Before you know it, he’s grabbing onto your hand and the two of you are bowing together. With wide eyes and a flushed face, you turn to look at the crowd as well.

Collei is smiling brightly next to Eula who smiled a bit herself, but not before turning away so no one could see. Paimon is cheering loudly, but it’s not enough to drown out Zosimos who’s clapping profusely. You swear you see some tears fall out of his eyes as well. And soon enough, Kokomi, Aether, and Klee are next to you, bowing alongside the two of you.

You turn to Kaeya in the midst of it all, only to find him already looking at you with the biggest smile you think you’ve ever seen on his face. The lights are shining just as brightly as they were in your eyes, although you’re sure he looks a thousand times better than you do. His hand squeezes yours and he winks before turning back to the audience.

Suddenly the years you spent pining after your best friend come to a close as you finally realize: Kaeya had liked you all along and this was his grand way of finally showing it to you.

[bucknastysbabe]

Criston cole x alicent daughter reader maybe aemonds sister and it be like when the dinner happens or something idk I just sadly love him

I SADLY LOVE INCEL KNIGHT TOO HE JUST— UGHGNGGNGNGBGNG ANGST

Immaculate - Ser Criston Cole

Ratings: Mature

Tags: Fantasies from Criston (no actual touch), his hateful internal monologue, anxiety attacks, weird pseudo Incest moments w Step daddy Cole, star crossed lovers type beat, Mentions of self-harm. This is just kinda angsty and strange

Criston waited outside the doors after the King was escorted away in a coughing fit, his disease taking over again. He was on guard for the Queen, always, as was his duty as sworn shield. Once the maesters were secured with the wasting king he had returned. Alicent had let royal guards stay on the inside of the room as his appearance may ‘unnerve’ some.

He knew what she meant. The cunt and her bastard seed. It made his chest swell with anger, bitterness, and that residual hurt he would never disclose to another. Just her whore he was. Years hadn’t quelled the ache when the knight thought back on it. So he tried not to.

Instead Criston spent the time attempting to overcome that eternal shame and stain on his once pristine white cloak and take care of the true born Targaryens, strange as they could be. He loved them all in their own way. An unsettled feeling sat in his gut from the ongoing dinner. There had been peace for too long and Viserys wasn’t there to hold up that invisible wall between the two clans.

As predicted, the dinner erupted into chaos. Criston entered from the back as Daemon was glaring down Aemond who simply swaggered off. Otto and Helaena stood awkwardly as the youngest princess watched with wide eyes. Rhaenyra and the rogue prince left immediately. Criston eyed Aegon who ambled back over to finish his cup.

The heir giggled at his sisters, “Wasn’t that grand?”

Otto sniped, “Extremely distasteful, shoving the lad’s head into the table and acting like children.”

Aegon, tongue rendered loose and bitter when he was in his cups began to argue with his grandsire. Criston locked eyes with Alicent, her own brimming with emotion. She ordered, “Take her to bed please.” He nodded dutifully and offered an arm to the second-born daughter, the poor thing grabbing him like a lifeline.

She would get overwhelmed quickly, not a good trait to have for a Targaryen. Alicent mused about sending her to be a Septa for years. Until the matter of the succession loomed ever closer. Septa had upgraded to a political pawn for whoever could offer gold and an army. Although the process had been stagnant. Criston didn’t mind that, much as he couldn’t speak of it, she was his favorite.

“There’s a war coming,” she warbled, doe eyes wide.

“Not yet sweetling, it may come to pass,” he hummed, squeezing her arm with his other hand as they passed through long halls. She shook blonde locks and pressed on, “No, no, I know it, look how we hate one another. That was dreadful. Mother’s going to sell me to a Lannister and make me take Gharion into battle.”

She whimpered at the end of her sentence, steps stumbling a bit. Criston looked down in concern, brows furrowing at his distressed princess. He wasn’t the best with comforting…still he would try. Rubbing her slim arm again he shushed, “Shh, hush now, you’re going to drive yourself up a wall thinking of things that haven’t occurred.”

Arriving at her chambers, he tried to dislodge her tight grip gently. The princess held on with a death grip, lilac eyes feverish as she begged, “Please don’t leave me alone, please Ser Cole.” He frowned, chest flipping and clenching at her cracking voice. The knight knew better, he just needed to get her to bed and leave. Last time he stepped foot in a Targaryen princess’ bedchambers it did not end well.

“I can’t sweetling, I’ll be out and about on patrol, not far away,” he said softly.

More tears leaked from gorgeous eyes. Criston was going to lose his already cracked willpower, he knew that much. “Please, please, I don’t want to be alone,” she wept, beginning to shake. He grimaced at her face going ashen and the tremors becoming worse, breath thinning into heaves. “Oh princess,” he sighed and picked the slip of a thing up.

She was having another fit, something the maesters said was due to ‘a hysterical temperament’. Shaking and crying and sucking in breaths until she received a couple drops of diluted poppy milk. He hated seeing them, made him want to coddle and pet her. Then he’d feel disgusting afterwards, emotions all twisted for the princess about less than half his age. The Seven cursed him for that.

“Where’s the poppy milk,” the brunette asked, laying her down on the impossibly huge bed. She managed to point a shaky finger at the large wardrobe. In two strides Criston opened it up and found the little glass bottle, swirling it around. Coming to perch on the bed he held the dropper out for the Princess, leaving two upon her tongue.

She relaxed soon after, but little hands were back tight in his cloak, twisted up. Criston clenched his jaw, unsure of how to navigate this. The princess asked sleepily, “Ser Criston, you’ll escort me to Casterly Rock right? And stay a bit? What if Lord Lannister is mean and awful to me?”

Criston would gladly rip the idiot’s throat out and present it to court if he put a hand on his sweetling. In the calmest voice possible Cole responded, “Yes I’m sure there will be Kingsguard present, knowing the Queen I’ll be there on watch for a bit.” She sighed softly, seeming more relaxed.

Silence enveloped the pair for a long time, Criston lost in his hateful thoughts. He needed to repent later. Drawing his sick blood would suffice. Shuffling and covers moving sounded from behind. The knight stiffened when she put her chin on his pauldron, hands finding his own. The princess murmured in a slight slur, “I love you Ser Criston. You always take good care of me.”

He wanted to cry but the brunette held her soft hands and hummed, “I love you too dear girl, don’t fret, I’ll protect you as long as I can.” She nuzzled into his dark hair, making no further moves, breathing in his scent. Scenes of stretching her pretty cunt flitted past his mind, her heaving pale body, melodic voice raw from crying his name. Dragging his cock along her innocent folds, the maiden incarnate.

Criston blinked and realized he needed to get out of here, very fast. He rasped to the princess, “I need to get on duty now sweet girl. I’ll be back later I promise.” She looked unhappy, begging a couple more times as Criston laced up and put on his helmet. He shook his head and shrugged her off, heart cracking in his chest.

“Ser please,” she whined, lilac eyes watery and so so achingly pure. Criston shook his head and pulled her close, pressing a kiss to her forehead. She gasped and stared, hands dropping. “You promise you’ll come back?,” she warbled. He nodded resolutely, beginning to shut the door. Criston wanted to beat himself black and blue doing his rounds.

The Seven constantly testing him by sending these abominable Targaryens, so impure yet there she was. He was weak and already failed once, he couldn’t fail again. Criston still came back to her chambers after the hour of the Wolf, exhausted. He sat down in a chair and watched her ethereal face, the moonlight casting a glow on perfect features.

Hatred boiling and churning in his chest Criston began to pull at his lower armor, what she wouldn’t know wouldn’t hurt. He’d take that pain for the girl fifty times over. That’s what Criston was here for anyways. Pain. Tarnish everything that may have once been good on his body.

[jakeyt]

Covet: Chapter 1

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Summary: 

Life was good. No, life was great. 

Was. 

Until.

Jake Kiszka crashed into the picture.

You welcomed him into your life—your home. 

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

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

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

Word Count: 12k+

Genre: and they were ROOMMATES; slowburn; enemies to lovers; enemies to lovers to friends to who knows what the hell they are

Warnings: (most of these are to come and not explicitly taking place in this chapter) 18+ (minors stay away); struggles with anxiety; absent parents; use of drugs and alcohol; sexual situations; etc. *each chapter will include the warnings that you should be aware of as the reader. i promise.* <3

Covet Masterlist

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

a/n: woo! hi all! this is the very first fic that i am publishing for the gvf fandom, so i will admit, that when i say i am a little (very) nervous. . .I MEAN IT. it’s taking a lot for me to share this. . .but, i am so very passionate about this work. i am truly dying to share it with you all. 

this will be a longer, angsty, alternate universe (!!), slooowburn story (you'll have to wait for the ~stuff~, sorry). 

and this chapter is a very long intro chapter. lol. sorry in advance.

i have pictures of the boys that can accompany the chapters, if you're interested in checking those out. . .pictures that aide in showing you what the boys look like as the story goes on. (for anyone interested, the doc will be attached in the notes at the end of the chapter.)

i hope anyone who reads this enjoys this little brain child of mine. it is very special to me and i hope it is received well.

please enjoy! <3

-

Disclaimer: this is absolutely, undoubtedly 110% a work of fiction. i do not claim to know greta van fleet. i do not claim that any of this actually occurred. again, this is a complete work of fiction. And, please, DO NOT steal this work, as it is 110% mine. plagiarism isillegal. and, as our friend google puts it, plagiarism is “illegal if it infringes an author's intellectual property rights.” and, being these words/ideas are my intellectual property rights. . .don’t take them. legal action will be taken if you take credit for any of my work.

-

_ _ _

Covet: to greatly desire, yearn for, or want a person. 

And, on the same hand: to begrudge a person.

_ _ _

Chapter 1

May, 2022

Brooklyn, NY

The sun was shining brightly through the window of the Black and Gold, the cozy and charming record store you worked at in east Brooklyn. 

It was quite the picturesque morning. You had woken with enough time to make a protein smoothie and take a light jog. And after your jog, you were decently sweaty and you’d still had enough time on the clock to take a relatively long shower afterwards. 

Now, you were at the B&G, and you had about ten minutes before the shop opened. Today would be a busy one, so you took advantage of the calm before the storm. 

You were using this time to sit behind the work computer and browse Amazon. You were on the hunt for a cute little cat tree. Today, you would be adopting a sweet feline that you’d recently inquired about from a nearby shelter. As soon as you got off work, you were set to pick her up. 

You could hear the birds chirping so beautifully outside to welcome the spring day. You were glad you were opening the shop this morning. Anytime you opened, it felt so overwhelmingly relaxing and safe. 

And, it felt even better to be working the opening shift on the very first day of your summer vacation. You sighed in relief of your summer officially beginning.

Your junior year of college had finally finished. It had absolutely been the most draining of your undergraduate years so far. So, you welcomed today gladly and openly. It was refreshing. You could actually breathe again.

It was very nearly the same refreshing feeling you always had when you finished with classes. That feeling of relief and finality that could compare to little else. 

But, as much as you loved summer, you really did love school. You loved being a college girl and taking the proper steps to eventually live out your dream. There really was no question about how much you loved college. Everyday was spent pursuing your passion for writing to eventually become an author – it had been everything you’d ever wanted. Truly. 

But, you were human. A human with anxiety at that. So, you loved times of peace and low stress. 

Now, all you’d have to worry about was: reading and writing in your spare time; seeing your wonderful grandparents more often; and getting to hang out with Josh. 

You grinned when you thought of the goofy, curly-headed man. 

Josh Kiszka was your best friend in the city. You had been close for a few years. You had met each other at the Black and Gold about three years ago when you first walked into the record shop, asking if they were hiring. He had been the manager on duty that day. He’d taken little time that day to find the proper application for you to fill out, and had basically hired you on the spot. Now that you were so closely friends with him, that instance was so characteristically Josh, it brought another small smile to your face. 

You began your job here almost as soon as you graduated high school. Your grandparents hadn’t allowed you to have a job in the city while you were still an ‘impressionable’ high schooler. Though, as soon as you turned eighteen and you walked the stage, diploma in hand, you bet your ass you started seeking out record stores to work for in the city. You loved music as much as you loved to write, so a record store was the only viable job option, in your opinion. 

You had been determined to have a job nailed down before you ever stepped onto the campus of the Pratt Institute. Pratt had been the object of your desire ever since your sophomore year of high school when your sister, Elsie, who was then still a junior, had decided to attend there to maintain a degree in journalism. 

Then, last year, you had watched Elsie so gracefully cross the stage and switch her tassel from one side to the other at that very Institute. She had given you a double thumbs-up and one of the dumb little faces you two would often exchange. And in that moment, you’d been so proud to have followed in her footsteps. She was your closest confidant, Josh coming in second. 

While you both attended school, she had been your roommate. The summer before freshman year, you’d moved all of your necessary belongings into the apartment your grandparents had chosen for her the year prior. Living with her had been what all dreams were made of. It had been the two of you against the world – just like always.

But, last May, when she graduated, she’d officially left you. She had started traveling the world to be the best journalist the world would ever see. (You were, admittedly, a bit biased, but almost everyone who knew her knew what a fantastic writer she was.)

She was a hard worker, and as genetics would have it, so were you. You always had been the hardest worker in your class. You’d been a straight-A student as far back as you could remember. Your senior year of high school, all of your teachers had been beyond thrilled to write recommendation letters for you to submit with your application to Pratt. 

Your teachers had waited with you, on baited breath, to receive the acceptance letter. 

You had waited a few (long) months to receive the letter that answered every prayer imaginable. Pratt’d accepted you, and it was history from there.

You had then gotten your job here, at the Black and Gold, moved in with your sister to her apartment, and started school that August. You had decided several years prior that anywhere you went, you’d major in writing and minor in music (the latter falling under ‘media studies’ at Pratt).

And, even though you missed your sister, living alone had been an almost exhilarating experience for the past year. You were able to live life for you and you alone. It was wonderful. And, now, you were almost done with school, on your way to becoming an author. 

And you had a cat on the way. 

Life simply couldn’t get any better. 

🌼  🌼  🌼

Like you knew it would be, this Friday in the shop had been a busy one. Everyone on this side of Brooklyn knew you got shipment in on Thursdays, and Josh always featured the best records to lure customers in further.

You weren’t unhappy to see all of the customers, though. You loved people. You loved getting to see regulars and meet new people. As did Josh. 

At this moment, there was a lady in front of you both, asking if the record she was holding was ‘worth a shot’. It had been one that Josh had deemed appropriate for the ‘Featured Wall’ (a pegged wall with display hooks for the vinyl). Naturally, he was ready to talk it up. It was a film score. Of course.

“Now, this one is quite exquisite,” Josh said, in his mature voice, he held the vinyl with one hand. His other hand was flourishing as he spoke. “You see, this film was filled with such sorrow and heartache, but redemption all the same – the music from the feature reflects just that. It’s stupendous, really.”

Of course, the woman instantly became convinced. He had such a way of talking to people. Charisma was the word for it. You admired that about him. Though, there were many qualities you admired about the man. You could hardly begin to list them all. 

You could easily say that being a good friend topped the list of wonderful things about him. 

He had been the main person (besides your sister) that you turned to when you needed to talk for the past three years. But now that she was gone? He’d essentially been all you’d had for the past year. And you had already kind of known this about him, but the past year had taught you that he was easily the most empathetic person you’d ever met.

You loved Josh and you were always trying your hardest to be the kind of friend to him that he consistently was to you.

He checked the woman’s vinyl out for her, talking her ear off the whole time. He laughed at the right times, showing he was listening intently to every word she said. He had a way of drawing people in to him, and this older woman was no different. 

As she left, he started talking to you, still facing the register, making sure to balance it after that transaction. 

“I haven’t even had time to ask you,” he turned to you after closing the drawer. “How has your first official day of summer vacation been?”

You put a finger to your chin, pretending to think deeply at the question. You scrunched your lips to one side to add to the effect.

He chuckled at you, his eyes becoming soft.  “You are so endearing, Y/N,” he gave you a look and a raise of his brow, a smolder on his face. “But not quite as endearing as that sister of yours.”

You laughed at that. Josh was a mess for Elsie. Since the first time she’d dropped lunch off for you at the shop, and he’d seen her that very first time – he’d been hooked. You were pretty sure he had actually drooled a little. 

He’d been quite vocal about her to you, but you knew he thought he didn’t stand a chance. He believed she was completely out of his league. He was truly besotted by her. 

“Well, let’s see, I’m –.”

“I’m ready!” The excited person at the register, who donned three original presses, was a regular. She was a young, mousy, high-school aged girl named Stacy. She had an appreciation for all things vintage. You and Josh both liked her a lot for her individuality. 

You made a quick conversation with her, asking if she was out for summer yet. She sadly replied that she wasn’t, but she was ‘so ready to be.’ You grinned, telling her you totally understood.

She flitted out the door as soon as she’d appeared, and you turned to Josh, ready to continue. Though, the thing you were most excited for was what you decided to mention first.

“I’m getting my cat today!”

He opened his mouth wide, all of his teeth showing. He raised his hands above his head in excitement, lifting to his toes a little as well. He felt every ounce of joy that you did, you could tell. 

“Your landlord gave the okay?” he asked, surprised, lowering back to earth with you.

Your landlord could be a pain in the ass at times, but at the end of the day, you had a way with people, like Josh. And, you had gotten your way when you had asked so very sweetly. You might have pulled the “I feel so alone since my sister left” card . . . but you really wanted a cat. And it wasn’t a complete lie. You did occasionally long for someone to keep you company. And a cat could do just that. 

“Of course,” you scoffed, as if the question was absurd. Then you gave a little grin. “Who could say no to the sweet little thing that is me?” You have a hair flip, adding to the bit.

“I never tell you this, but your humility is your best trait,” he remarked.

You both laughed at that. 

“And your quiet demeanor is yours,” you gave a cheeky grin that he returned. 

It was that grin of his where his dimple showed, and more of his gums showed than his teeth. 

“What are you naming it?”

“Her,” you corrected. “And I’m naming her Stevie.”

“Nicks or Wonder?”

“Wonder,” you stated, as if it was even a question. 

“Why did I even ask?” You both shook your heads, grinning at each other. “I love it, Y/N. It fits you.”

You decided to change the subject to him and his life.  “How has your filmmaking been going?” 

Josh loved film, and his ultimate dream was to be a director. He loved music, but not quite to the same degree as film.

“It’s alright,” he shrugged. Then, you could practically see the lightbulb gleam above his head, his eyes brightened with the imaginary bulb. “That reminds me! Could you, pretty please, with the reddest cherry on top, ask Elsie if she’d be in one of my upcoming projects?”

“Josh, she’s hardly in town,” you feign offense with an exaggerated hand to your heart and a gasp. “And what about me? Am I chopped liver? We do share the same genetics, my friend.”

“Y/N. She is my muse,” he gave you the funniest look of desperation. “Please.”

You conceded. You knew as soon as he asked you that you would talk to her about it. Of course you would. It was Josh and you’d do anything for him. 

“Of course, Joshua,” you pinched his cheek and ruffled the curls that sat atop his head. The beads of his headband that laid against his neck shook as you did so. “Anything for you.”

He literally leapt with joy at that. And you knew the smile that was on his face wouldn’t leave for hours. You wished you could enamour someone in the way Josh was so enamored by your sister. That was a trait of hers you had been jealous of for years – she drew people in. Just like Josh drew people in.

You loved people, yes, but you weren’t this grand lamp that drew in all of the people around you like moths to a flame. 

You longed for the day a guy would think of you the way Josh thought of her. 

He continued, “Anyway, I am just so exci–.”

His eyebrows scrunched as his phone started blaring I Will Survive in his pocket, he got it out and his eyes squinted even harder as he looked at the wide screen. 

He never got calls during work. Josh’s entire family knew his schedule. His brother Sam and their friend Danny were his roommates, so they knew. And, Josh talked to his mom so much. Like, they talked so often you simply knew that she knew what he had for lunch every single day. She obviously knew he was busy, which translated to his father knowing. And his sister was overseas, pursuing a degree.

“Everything okay?” you questioned, curiosity lacing your tone as his brows stayed knitted.

He shook his head, as if shaking himself from his daze. “Yeah, I just never–,” he shook his head again, his eyes widening as he slid his pointer finger across the screen. Josh held his phone like your grandpa held his, almost unsure of the smart device. He held the phone to his ear suddenly.  His lips set in a pursed line, and his jaw clenched as the other person started talking. Then, as if he forgot you were standing there, already engaged in the cellular conversation, he looked at you suddenly. Then, he mouthed an “I’ve gotta take this,” and headed outside. He placed himself outside the shop in a way you couldn’t see him and your interest grew tenfold. 

Who could it possibly be?

🌼 🌼 🌼

Minutes ticked by. The sun had sunk just a tad bit lower in the sky. And, you had checked out countless customers who all seemed to finish making their selections at the same. time. 

You knew Josh had seen them all leave in a steady flow, bags in hand. On a normal day, he would have taken that as his cue to come back in and help you. But, he hadn’t come back in. Instead, he’d stayed out of sight, outside the store. You checked the clock that hung behind the cash register. 

He’d been outside for thirty minutes. Damn. 

You needed to leave in about an hour to get your cat. 

He’d better be back in by then, you thought slightly grumpily. You knew your irritation wasn’t necessarily warranted. You knew if he was still outside, it was serious. At this point, you were more fuelled by your spirit of inquiry than anything else. You just wanted to know what was going on on the other side of Josh’s iPhone. 

Finally, about five minutes later, he stomped back in. Josh never stomped. He usually glided. 

Well. Now you wondered even more what the matter was. His face read dread and a healthy tinge of anger.

Before you could turn to him to ask your burning questions, a customer came up. You hurriedly checked him out, barely making conversation. At this point, you were more worried for your frazzled friend than making polite conversation with a stranger. And, again, that’s why people were drawn to Josh and not you. He wouldn’t have let his personal issues change his interactions with those around him.

Except now, he faced away from the store, back slightly hunched as he stared out the massive window behind the register. His arms were crossed, indicating even more that he was in deep thought.

As soon as you’d placed the customer’s record in one of the gold bags that were associated with your store, you turned to Josh. He was now teetering back and forth on his ropey sandals, his hand continuously raking through his once-perfectly-tousled curls. Now, the curls on his head matched the nervous energy he was exuding. 

He was angled away from you, in his own world.

“Josh?” You were quiet, both for the benefit of the few customers in the store and your friend’s obvious distress. You stepped the couple of steps it took to be closer to him. You placed a hand on his arm, hoping your calm tone and the delicate gesture would communicate your concern. 

He seemed to boost just the slightest bit at your touch. He turned his head in your direction, yet his eyes stayed planted to the happenings occurring outside the window. He was watching people. You knew he was surely doing so to latch on to one of their happy feelings, and feel that instead of the obvious anguish that was overtaking him. 

His eyes met yours finally. You knew your eyes widened a bit when you saw his. Had he been crying? His eyes were a bit puffy, a tinge red and so sullen. You were definitely taken aback. Josh radiated joy almost always. . .this was a new emotion of his for you to experience. He hardly let bad things affect him, as he was always determined to find the bright side of things. And the joy he’d had when you two had last talked only forty minutes ago, was gone. His mouth was a flat frown. 

“It’s–,” he cleared his throat, his voice having been laced with emotion he didn’t seem ready to show. “It’s my brother.”

Your heart started racing, all things that could possibly be wrong were suddenly wrong in your mind. What had happened? 

“Oh no, Josh,” your hand squeezed his arm, you moved closer, hoping your proximity may help him. “Sam? What-what happened?” 

Josh shook his head, the strings that tied his beaded headband together in the back shaking slightly. “No. Not Sam,” he scratched at his eyebrow with a finger, his eyes still looking concerned underneath them. “Jake.”

You internally slapped yourself for not thinking of Jake before. To be fair, he never called Josh. He lived in Illinois, living a completely separate life from his twin. But, how could you have forgotten about Josh’s literal twin? Josh brought him up in conversation from time to time, but he was just so far away. You never thought of him.

Now you understood why he was so downtrodden. You knew twin telepathy was real. If you hadn’t known before you’d become friends with Josh, you surely did now. Josh had explained his beliefs about it many times before. You had absolutely no doubts he was feeling every emotion Jake was feeling in this moment. An empathetic twin? You couldn’t begin to imagine the weight. 

You suddenly had to know what was going on – even more than you’d needed to before. You shook your head, letting your hand fall from Josh’s arm and giving him some space to feel what he was feeling. “He never calls you,” you stated the first thing that you’d thought. “What did he need–,” you checked your slightly accusatory tone. Not the time, Y/N. “I mean, what happened to him?”

You were honestly kind of scared for his response.

“His, um, his girlfriend–,” Josh’s eyebrows drew together in anger. “No–his ex-girlfriend. She–,” he held a clenched fist to his mouth, and you saw tears gather in his eyes. “She cheated on him.”

You stepped back once, slightly shocked. Josh was this distressed over a breakup? 

You tried to keep your tone understanding. “Oh no,” you tried, really.

“Yeah,” he rubbed his forehead, just below the headband. He sniffed the tears away. His eyes lightened a bit. Just a bit. It seemed to have lifted off of his shoulders a bit. Maybe it was because he’d finally stated it out loud, and the emotions were finally able to come out of his body. He wasn’t holding onto the entirety of it anymore. He looked down again. “I can’t, no– actually, I can,” he nodded to himself, a heinous smirk on his face. “I can believe she’d–,” he scoffed haughtily.

You were doing your best to follow along. But if he continued with broken-up sentences, you weren’t sure you’d be able to keep up. “Yeah?”

He finally snapped out of his daze even more and locked his eyes with yours. He seemed to remember where he was, his eyes tracing the establishment quickly, to make sure customers were alright and no one was nearby. Then, he looked back at you. 

“I know it seems a little ridiculous,” he stated. “To be so upset over a break-up. But, this girl. Jake, he–,” Josh swallowed an obvious knot that had blossomed in his throat at saying his twin’s name. “Jake followed her to that stupid ass college of hers when we graduated and– he was so selfless. So selfless, Y/N. I can’t believe she’d be so selfish. She basically spit in my brother’s face.”

Your eyebrows knit together. You didn’t know much about Jake, so hearing all of this was incredibly interesting to you, to say the least. You were sipping on some piping hot tea while also learning of a mystery person who shared the same DNA as your best friend. 

He continued. “Actually, I think it’s worse than spitting in one’s face,” he scoffed, his tongue curling in his mouth, his dimple showing for an emotion completely opposite of joy. “She kicked him so hard. . .he is bleeding. And I can’t–,” more tears gathered in his eyes. Oh no. Josh tears were surely going to make your tears spring soon, and you didn’t like showing those. 

“You can’t what, Josh?” you urged, trying to push the conversation forward, past the pauses that could cause the waterworks. 

He looked you in the eyes, his eyes so sad. “He is leaving there asap, and I can’t take him in,” a tear left his right eye. “And I refuse to let him go back to our hometown. He is better than that. I want him–no, I need him here with me.”

Josh’s tone was more serious than you’d ever heard it. You didn’t want to peep a word, you wanted him to continue what he was saying. But, you had to ask. Though, you knew the answer. You were denying what you already knew you had to do.

“Why can’t you take him in?” you pondered.

“Landlord was already iffy about me moving Sammy and Danny in when they came to town,” he placed both hands over his face, smoothing them down to his cheeks. “My apartment was a strictly two-person apartment and somehow my landlord let me squeeze a third one in there. He wouldn’t ever let me have more than that. I could ask, I guess, but getting shot down right now would seriously kill me,” a tear fell from his eye. “But Jake can’t afford his own place right now. He’s been working the worst jobs down there. Terrible income.”

Your heart beat erratically in your chest. You knew what you had to do. You knew it the moment you asked him why he couldn’t take in another person. You’d been to Josh’s apartment. The three boys really were kind of squeezed into that apartment, but they made it work better than most people could. How they did it, you didn’t know. But, you did know what you had to offer. 

“He can stay with me.”

“What?” his eyes widened to the point of you wondering if they’d bulge out of his head. He looked like that one emoji who was on the verge of tears, due to gratefulness. “Y/N, you couldn’t possibly be serious.”

Before you said anything else, you quickly contemplated it once more. You didn’t know the guy. You literally forgot that he existed for a moment today. And you were about to take him in. What in the hell did you just offer? You internally berated yourself for questioning your decision when you looked at Josh again, though. His eyes were so wide, so gracious, so kind. You had wanted to be the friend that Josh deserved for a long time. You knew your decision. 

“Yes, Josh,” you gave him a small, hesitant smile. “He can stay with me for a while.”

Josh looked more than appreciative, but he had a question in his eye. You immediately knew it as foreboding guilt. “Y/N, I did not mean to make you think that you had to–.”

“I know,” you smiled a wider, more genuine smile now. “That’s why I offered,” you reached out to grab his arm again. “You would do it for me.”

He would. You could feel your eyes well with emotion and his did the same. Before you knew it, he was grasping you so tightly, like you were his lifeline. He said thank you’s and you have no idea what this means to me’s more times than you could count. 

You hugged him tighter to you. You really would do anything for him. 

Even if it meant taking in a stranger.

But– Jake wasn’t really a stranger. Well, he was. He was a person you had never even looked at in your life, so he was a stranger. You wouldn’t know him if you saw him across the street. 

(You hadn’t frequently been to Josh’s apartment and the photos you had seen on his phone were terribly shaky at best.)

The more you thought, maybe you would recognize him from a distance. He was Josh’s twin, after all. But for the life of you, you couldn’t remember ever seeing a picture of him. Maybe he looked just like Josh.

Maybe he would be just like Josh. He’d called him selfless, after all. And Josh was the most selfless person you knew, besides your grandparents. 

You had to convince yourself that you hadn’t just made one of (if not the) most impulsive decisions in your life. 

Instead, you just hugged Josh even tighter to you, remembering that his happiness and calmness was what mattered right now, most of all. 

🌼 🌼 🌼

It had been a week since you’d made the most drastic (and mindless) decision of your life.

Josh had decided it would take about a week for Jake to get his stuff together and get here. 

So, the day was here for him to move in. 

You had wanted to quiz Josh as much as you possibly could during the week that was leading up to this chaotic decision, but you hadn’t had the chance. Josh had only been at the record store the day after you had offered your apartment up. Then, he had left in his little beat-up car. Followed along by Sammy and Danny in a small U-Haul to pick up his (their) other brother. 

You weren’t sure how Josh’s little humpty dumpty car was going to make the nearly-fifteen-hour trip. You were sure, however, that that thing was set to burst into flames at any given moment. The brown rust that had overtaken the majority of the metal on the car, the paint that was chipped so badly you could hardly tell what the original color of the car had been. And then there were the terrible fumes that came from the exhaust. . . Blech. Even just thinking about it, you had to physically shake your head to rid yourself of the smell as you thought of it.

It was that one car that, if you had your windows rolled down at a stoplight next to it, you rolled your windows back up as quickly as you possibly could. 

You politely refused to ride in that thing, seeing as you didn’t want to ride passenger in a ticking time bomb. But, you loved how much Josh loved the car. 

It had come all the way from Frankenmuth, Michigan with him when he moved to the city years ago, and he seemed bound and determined to drive it until the old, rusty wheels fell off.

You brought yourself out of your thoughts and went to get the vacuum out of the coat closet. You rolled it out by its squeaky wheels and tended to the hallway and bedrooms first. You gave them all at least three sweeps, giving the guest room an extra. Living room was next.

You were so nervous to show a complete stranger your apartment. You wanted to make a good impression, and you needed Jake to know that you were a person who liked things kept clean. You’d known ever since you offered your place up last week, that you would wind up deep-cleaning the entire apartment at some point during the week. 

And, due to the busyness that could only be described as summertime at the Black and Gold, you were just now getting to it. It seemed that everyone on this side of New York was always suddenly inspired to grow their record collections during the summer time. You thought it was maybe due to the sunshine and the generally carefree nature of summer that brought a sense of melancholy and nostalgia to everyone, including yourself. Summer could simply be viewed as an opportunity to live life rather than go about your days in constant routine and mindless motions. 

You had been scheduled to work the morning of this cloud-ridden Friday, but you had personally requested to only work the morning so you could prepare your apartment for your burgeoning guest the second part of the day. 

You looked around your cozy apartment, a hand on your hip to ground your exhausted body. You were proud of your work. You then looked at the gold clock that hung next to the front door. It was just now 5:14 p.m. on the dot, and your apartment was basically sparkling. The only thing you really had left to do was vacuum the living room. 

So, you ran your vacuum over the carpet of your living room. And, after giving it at least four complete sweeps, you gave it one last once over. You decided it was as good as it was going to get. As you put away the vacuum, you wondered how close Josh and the guys were.

He had called you earlier that day to inform you that they had been more than halfway back. That was around 10 a.m. At that point, he’d thought they would be arriving around 6:30 or 7 that evening. You checked the clock on the wall again, and realized the minute hand hadn’t moved at all for the past fifteen-ish minutes. You crinkled your brows. Then, your stomach fell to your feet. 

You raced over to your phone on the counter, almost tripping over Stevie. You apologized to her, as if your walking had caused a real inconvenience to her. She had barely budged in your rushed stumble.

When you’d picked her up, the humane society had sworn she had some of the Ragdoll breed in her. With her bright blue eyes and fluffy combined white and light gray fur. So, being you, you’d researched the breed. She held true to many positive traits of the breed. Though, one you’d learned that she inhabited, was how she did the ‘cat flop’ so frequently. A very Ragdoll-esque thing to do. And, it was more cute than anything, honestly. 

You got to your iPhone and pressed your finger to the screen of your phone, lighting it up.

5 missed calls from Josh. 3 text messages from Josh. 

And it was 6:05 p.m.

“Well, shit,” you mumbled frustratedly to yourself. You rubbed your forehead, a light sheen of sweat coming off on your hand. You opened your phone to read his texts.

Josh, 5:02 p.m.: We are about 1 hr and some change away

Josh, 5:30 p.m.: Stuck in traffic :/ 

Josh, 5:55 p.m.: You ok???

And then you noticed the missed calls had come in a string. You had actually just missed the last one, it having come in at six o’clock on the dot.

You suddenly took notice of the fact that you could feel the sticky sweat in your armpits and decided you had to take a shower. You gave him a quick response.

You, 6:06 p.m.: Where are you now? I’ve gotta hop in the shower. Lost track of time. Ugh

He responded instantaneously. 

Josh, 6:06 p.m.: Lol it’s ok. We are still about 30 minutes away

Josh, 6:06 p.m.: IM GLAD YOURE OK!!!!!

You smiled to yourself, and quickly sent a smiley emoji back in response. You were about to take the fastest shower of your life. Taking your phone with you to keep better track of time, you hurriedly went to the closet that held the washer and dryer at the end of the hallway. You set the dryer to run an air dry cycle on the guest room sheets. You simultaneously stripped your clothes and threw them in the hamper that sat in the laundry room. 

Then, you headed to the bathroom to (very) quickly scrub down.

🌼 🌼 🌼

As you got out of the shower, you crossed to the white, laminate countertop that held the sink, and tapped the screen of your phone to view the time. 

It was only 6:15 p.m. You had managed to take a shower and shave your legs in a span of less than ten minutes.

Hell yeah. 

You didn’t even wrap the towel around your body as you normally would have. You didn’t want to dirty a new one, and you decided you’d take a quick moment to commemorate the time you’d had living alone. You let yourself air dry as you ran as fast as possible, stark naked, to your bedroom. You were hoping the faster the speed, the quicker your body would dry. 

Once you made the not-so-long trek to your bedroom, you opened the drawers you’d need to use from the beautiful, vintage, white chest of drawers your sister had left behind for you to keep. You two had gone thrifting one day your freshman year, and she’d found it first, so she’d gotten dibs. It had only been fair for you to inherit the piece of furniture, considering her new profession would have her in no one place for too long. 

You quickly got a pair of underwear and a sports bra out, sliding them on slightly slowly due to the adhesive your body had created from the still-drying water. 

You chose a pair of black jean shorts for your bottoms, opting against any long pants as you knew the material would only stick to your legs uncomfortably. Then, you chose the dark, mossy green tank top you saw lying atop all of the others in your drawer of tanks and tees.

You gave yourself a quick look in the mirror that was attached to the chest. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t impressed by the cute outfit that was made in record time. It was simple, but it was cute. 

You grabbed the gold necklace that held your first initial from the dresser in front of you, clasping it around your neck.

Good job thinking on the spot, Y/N. And, being the (admittedly) weird person you were, you gave yourself a quick little pat on the back for all the work you’d done so far today, including the outfit decision. A few water droplets landed on your hand from your hair that was steadily leaking onto your tank-top, already creating an ugly wet spot on the back of the shirt. 

You poked the screen of your iPhone, seeing the newest text from Josh as you slid the screen to unlock it.

Josh, 6:17 p.m.: We just dropped Daniel and Samuel off at our place. 

Josh, 6:17 p.m.: They had plans with a couple of girls tonight. 

Josh, 6:18 p.m.: Soooooo it will just be Jacob and myself

Josh, 6:18 p.m.: We are like 5 min away btw

You didn’t always understand Josh sending multiple texts in a row rather than just combining them all into one. It was a silly thing he did that you found slightly chaotic, but that made it very Josh. He would send the thoughts as they came to him. Just as he said whatever thought may pop into his mind if you were to be talking to him in person.

You spared no time as you brushed through your sopping wet hair with the ever-present brush that sat atop the chest of drawers. Water flung from the ends, onto your back, and onto the rest of your bedroom as you quickly brushed. You grabbed the claw clip nearest to you and made a quick twist of your hair. Then, at the back of your head, you secured it with the claw clip. Good enough.

You pinched your cheeks, adding some life to them. You had, so far, opted for a foundation-free summer. You were trying to give your skin a break. Though, you did slap a couple layers of mascara on. You did have the decency to want to look presentable for your about-to-be roommate.

Your phone screen read that it was 6:22. They would be here any–.

Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock.

Josh’s signature series of knocks. You could swear he added a little flair every time he knocked on your apartment’s door. If it made any sense, the knocks seemed to get a little more zesty every time he visited your home. 

You walked quickly to the front door, scanning the apartment again as you walked through it. You were very proud of how it looked. You grabbed the candle striker that sat behind a picture on an end table and lit the maple pancakes scented candle that sat on the same table. You wanted to add to the cozy feeling you wanted for your apartment. 

You wanted Jake to feel welcomed.

As you went to open the door, you heard the same knocks start up again. You rolled your eyes at your friend’s blatant impatience. 

As you opened the door, a piece of hair fell from your up-do, onto your face. It made you momentarily close your eyes as it tickled your eyelashes. You puffed it out and away from your face with a breath. You tucked it behind your ear, and your eyes opened to see Josh’s smile. 

It seemed to be a smile that said, ‘I’m sorry in advance.’

You gave him a smile of encouragement. Surely Josh was just on edge, probably from feeling so much stress and emotion for the past week. 

Then, you saw movement behind Josh, your breath caught in your throat. 

Oh. 

You weren’t expecting Josh’s identical twin to look so different from him right off the bat. Did they look similar? Yes. You could definitely tell that they were twins, but Jake was just different from Josh. 

His tanned skin was like Josh. But, you initially noticed their differences more than similarities.

His hair was longer than Josh’s. It was wavy rather than exhibiting the springy curls as Josh’s did. Where Josh’s hair indicated buoyancy, Jake’s hair showed an alluring appeal. You suddenly wanted to run your fingers through it. 

Okay, stop it, Y/N.

But, then, the amber-brown eyes that looked past his brother and into the apartment caught your attention before you were able to stop it. They stopped you. They were like Josh’s, but you hadn’t ever cared to notice the perfect mixture of color in Josh’s eyes before. But when it came to Jake’s? Apparently his eyes held a special kind of drug that you couldn’t help but be lured in by. They held a strange sense of something you’d never known you’d needed. 

You just couldn’t quite place your finger on what void it was these eyes filled. 

It was Josh’s voice that snapped you out of your daze. “Y/N?”

When you came to, you realized he was waving a hand in front of your face. 

Well.

That was embarrassing as hell. Your first interaction with your brand new roommate had you in a trance that you literally had to be brought out of with a calling of your name and a gesture. You would have slapped your forehead if you wanted to humiliate yourself any more, but you really didn’t want to add more fuel to the flame in your now-rosy cheeks. You could feel them burning hot. 

You caught Josh’s eyes first as you snapped out of your trance. Afraid to lose yourself in his twin’s eyes again, you held Josh’s as you introduced yourself to this new person. Josh’s eyes were safe. Admittedly, it was weird for you to stare at Josh as you introduced yourself to his brother, but.

“I’m–.”

“This is Y/N, Jake,” Josh introduced you. You shared a small smile with your best friend, silently thanking him for saving you from any more awkwardness. The dimple in his cheek showed as he gave you his close-mouthed smile. “Y/N, this is Jake.”

You forced yourself to look at him, out of politeness. 

Although, when you looked at him this time, you realized he wasn’t holding any sort of smile on his face. His eyes weren’t showing warmth, as Josh’s almost always did. He was looking at you with a stone-cold face. No emotion seemed to show. 

“Hi,” his jaw was clenched in his greeting. 

“Hey! Welcome to New Yor–.”

“Can we unload the U-Haul now?” He was looking at Josh when he said it, as if he hadn’t even been trying to listen to you. 

Suddenly you weren’t anywhere near a trance-like state anymore. Instead, you wanted to roll your eyes at his childish greeting and his inability to show you respect. It was almost like he was a child being forced to apologize for something, when in all actuality, he was being allowed the opportunity to stay with you. Could he act like an adult? You were being one by allowing him this opportunity. It felt as though you were pushing yourself outside of your comfort zone for him. 

Well, to be fair, it was mostly for Josh’s sake.

You decided to ignore it. Perhaps he was just awkward when meeting new people. God knows you had already been awkward in your own way. 

“Uh– um, yeah,” you clumsily responded. “Let’s go ahead and get started.”

🌼 🌼 🌼

The three of you had almost finished unloading the U-Haul. He hadn’t brought much, really. It had not taken long at all to get this moving truck nearly empty. There were only a few boxes and a couple of guitar cases left, near the front of the truck. 

Josh and Jake had unloaded heavier things, allowing you the opportunity to take in some of the smaller things. 

One of the things you’d enjoyed carrying in the most had been the majority of his record collection. You had thoroughly appreciated the mass amount of boxes that included vinyl. You had nosily picked through them as you had dropped off each box to his room. 

You had instantly been a fan of the Cream and Eric Clapton you’d come across. You loved good ‘ol Rock ‘n’ Roll. 

He didn’t seem to share quite the same amount of love for soul as Josh did, though you still noticed enough of the blues to make you smile. Even if he was awkward with new people, his music taste was something of worth. You even saw a few duplicates of records you already owned. Although, there were enough albums that you didn’t own that you also admired his taste in that capacity. You did have quite the expansive collection.

As you passed through the living room, ready to continue to help, you passed the guys. Each of them were carrying a couple of boxes, chattering away about something. You wanted to know what they were talking about, you wanted to include yourself in an easy conversation with your new roommate. But you knew you shouldn’t interrupt, so you went about your business helping. 

When you made it back to the U-Haul, you saw the twins had pushed what was left to the front of the truck. You only noticed two beat-up guitar cases were left. You went ahead and decided you’d be the hero of the day by carrying in the last of the things he’d brought. Maybe it would show him how helpful you were. How you liked to help people. 

All things considered, offering up a room in your apartment to a perfect stranger should show that, but you were an overachiever, okay? 

And maybe this one thing would be the key to him opening up to you. 

As you reached both hands out for the cases, another hand slapped one of your hands away. 

What the hell?

You turned to see Jake. His eyebrows were scrunched, his eyes annoyed. 

Again, what even?

“I can get these, okay?” he sighed, seemingly put-out. 

You didn’t pass up that opportunity to roll your eyes at him. You hadn’t meant to, truly. But you just couldn’t help the natural response to his ungrateful attitude that marred the two interactions you had had with him so far. 

“Well–,” you stopped yourself from saying anything. You forced yourself to put things in perspective. “Okay.” 

You stepped back, watching as he grasped the handles of each worn, leather case. You followed him up the stairs as he carried them. You were not going to offer to help. You just decided to keep to yourself as you thought it all through.

The longing for normal decency was grating on you. It pissed you off when people couldn’t be generally kind. You knew the irony considering how you had just rolled your eyes at him. Though, you were different from him. You had tried to be nice and fair and decent. You were giving him a place to live, for God’s sake. 

The little spark of empathy that lit up in you saw its way through to your heart and you remembered. You remembered how distraught Josh had been at this upheaval in Jake’s life. Surely that meant something. Jake really was going through a lot. 

This–this was all so new for him. It was a whole lot of new. New city. Completely new life. He was saying hello to so much, but saying goodbye to even more. 

As soon as you made it back into the apartment, you found your way to Josh. 

Thankfully, you hadn’t had to walk behind Jake for long. His fast walking up the stairs was helpful. He had seemed absolutely desperate to get away from you.

Josh was leaning against the back of the couch, writing something in his notebook that stayed almost permanently in his back pocket. It was for his musings, the little thoughts he got that inspired more. You never really questioned it, just admired his love to write. 

You situated yourself next to him. As you did so, he closed the notebook, putting it back in his pocket. He put the pen he’d been using back in the cup on your kitchen countertop. You had deemed it Josh’s pen awhile back. It was his favorite. He claimed it wrote smoother than the others. 

“Josh,” you knew your tone communicated some of your worry.

He wrapped an arm around you, and you leaned into it. You loved how he just always seemed to know. 

“He’s going through a lot, Y/N,” he said quietly, then kissed the side of your head. He said the next words even more quietly than the previous ones. “And I should have warned you. . .he acts like an ass when his emotions are all over the place. He doesn’t know how to handle them like I do.”

You chuckled. And you didn’t even have to see him to see his smug, joking smirk. Josh snickered along with you, laughing at his own words. You laid your head on his shoulder, so glad he was there to alleviate the growing tension in your shoulders. 

And all too soon, the grim reaper was coming out of his bedroom. He pushed a hand through the wavy hair that touched just below his shoulders. You wished you didn’t notice how it fell so perfectly as he pushed it back.

Jake seemed restless as he cleared his throat. “Do you have shee–?”

“Sheets!” You left Josh’s grasp to go get the sheets out of the dryer. 

They were still warm from being in the closed dryer when you piled them up in your arms. You cursed yourself for forgetting to get them out of the dryer. Ugh. You didn’t need him judging you for your lack of thinking to do so.

You passed by the boys, who were once again in deep conversation, as you speed-walked to the guest – no, Jake’s– bedroom. You plopped the sheets on the bed, a ruffled mess of linens. You made quick work of adjusting the fitted sheet to your liking, the loose sheet falling swiftly on top. You tucked all of the corners just right. Then, you got into the bedroom’s little closet and grabbed the white quilt that had stayed up there since you’d last used and washed it. It had been waiting to be used again for a whole year. 

Once you’d situated the bed with its pillows and all of its pieces, you took a moment to consider something. What you’d signed yourself up for. How different this was going to be from living with Elsie. Things were going to be so different. 

For one, he was a guy. You had never been roommates with a man before. Even more, you hadn’t ever been roommates with anyone but Elsie. And she was your sister. And with her being your sister (and first best friend), there had been nothing but ease and comfort. And, so far, all you had with Jake was tight perplexity and irritation. And just plain tension. 

You closed your eyes to the suddenly overwhelming brightness of the room. You rolled your shoulders around, your neck moving along with the action. You wanted to alleviate some of the tightness that was already taking up residence in your upper back and neck. 

You felt Stevie rub herself up against your bare leg. Her soft fur and loud purring calmed you in its own special way. You smiled to yourself. The sweet little feline had used her week of knowing you to make one big place for herself in your heart. She seemed to automatically know you on first meeting and had already shown you so much love. She had shown a few times that week that she was a cuddly girl who simply lived for being in your presence. 

Although, you felt her leave your legs sooner than you’d anticipated. You opened your eyes in curiosity, watching her cross the room from your legs to Jake’s belongings. She rubbed herself against the boxes and then against the guitar cases – no, no, no. 

“Stevie,” you hushed at her. “Let’s not mess with his things.”

You scooped her up quickly, her body going slack in your arms, her purring reverberating through your chest. You assumed it wasn’t the best option for the cat to rub against the blessed cases. What was on the inside of those cases had to be special. The cases themselves really did look like they’d seen better days. Silver duct tape was the only thing that held certain parts of them together. 

You left his bedroom, finding the twins, still conversing. 

You didn’t want to stop their talking, but. You didn’t want to feel like an outlier in your own home. You were already afraid enough of what was to come with Jake being a constant presence. You just wanted to feel like you were in some type of control. 

“The bed is made,” you interrupted them. Both of their heads turned to you. Josh’s more so. Your best friend looked at you with kind eyes and Jake’s face barely changed. His head was barely turned to you, really. It was almost as if he had tuned you out.

“Thanks,” he said more to Josh than to you. He then fully placed his attention back on his twin, seeming to try to shut you out again. 

Josh continued to look at you, so it was a weird lull. The air around you three was pulled taut with tension. You didn’t know what to say. You and Josh held eye contact while Jake burnt a hole into the shaved side of his brother’s head with his eyes. 

What. the. actual. fuck?!

It was obvious Jake didn’t want you included in anything. All you could conclude was that he was simply being an idiot. It was going to be a very rude awakening when he suddenly remembered you two were going to be roommates. He’d have to live with you. You were going to be there, whether he liked it or not. . .until he eventually was secure enough to (hopefully sooner rather than later) move out. 

You could not wrap your mind around how elementary he was acting, considering how you were uplifting your entire life, unnecessarily, on his behalf. Again, more for Josh’s sake than his. . . But still. 

Not the point. 

This was your home and he was not respecting you enough within the walls of it. Your eyes pleaded with Josh to do something. 

Jake pulled his phone out of his back pocket, suddenly interested in the smart device. He leaned against the back of the couch, leisurely playing a game on his phone. He was now ignoring you and Josh both. 

Finally, Josh spoke, “Let’s order some Hibachi to-go, shall we?” 

Jake responded before you could with a dense “sure.”

“That sounds wonderful,” you put on a bigger, genuine smile of thanks to Josh for thinking of food. 

You really were hungry. Perhaps Jake was hungry too. That could have been part of the reason he had been acting like a complete crab. Your stomach suddenly felt emptier than it had before and you were anxious for Josh to order.

“You know what I want,” you pointed an airgun his way, shooting it dorkily. He laughed along with you. You were glad that even though his twin was an ass, Josh was still the same as he always was.

“Same,” Jake again, dull as ever. Could he not speak more than five words in a row? Were compound sentences simply too much for his brain?

Josh nodded, sending a smile your way. His eyes read an apology. It really wasn’t his place to apologize. Still, you were positive it was as close as you’d ever get to Jake apologizing. So, you accepted it, winking in response.

He held up his phone. “I’ve just gotta go call it in,” he crossed to the small fire escape right outside of the French doors in your living room. 

You watched with desperate eyes as he left you with his wretched brother. 

You knew better than to try conversation, but still – you did. 

“So,” you began, walking slightly closer to Jake, who was still leaning against the back of your sofa, playing the game that had him so suddenly entranced. “How is New York so far?”

He didn’t respond, only continuing to play his game. You waited for him to look up at you with a sort of “oh, yeah, sorry! It’s been alright”, but he never did. His fingers ticked across his screen. You were admittedly curious what game it was that had him so engaged. 

Maybe he hadn’t heard you. 

The benefit of the doubt was certainly trying hard to save your sanity. 

“How’s New York?”

You had to strain to hear his response, it was only a simple, aggravated “mhm” hummed in response. It was an obvious tactic that you remembered using as a teenager. It was that response that every teenager frustratedly used to get their parents (or, in your case, grandparents) off their back. 

But how in the hell were you being a bother to him? You stepped closer to him once more, but this time when you did, he glanced up at you and then swerved around the couch, eyes staying on the phone as much as they could. Then, before you could step any closer to him, you turned around the couch, following him. 

You were tired of his attitude. You weren’t going to put up with his shit any more today. You understood this was hard for him – all of the change, his broken heart, yada yada yada. But you had made up your mind that you deserved more of a response from this man. You were getting ready to rip him a new one when – 

“It’ll be here in 30 minutes!” Josh’s joyful tone died a bit at the end of the statement.

As soon as he was fully back in the living room, you could tell that he was absolutely sensing the energy reverberating in the room. He was still slipping his phone into the back pocket of his brown corduroy pants as his eyes sprung back and forth between his brother and you. 

Josh’s jaw clenched. He was nervous, that much was obvious. You knew the man very well. 

So, he did his ‘make it better’ empath thing and clapped his hands together, which brought both sets of eyes to him. 

“Whaddya say the three of us watch a movie?”

🌼 🌼 🌼

The food was delivered and completely scarfed down by the three of you. 

You had all been very hungry. 

But, the best part of eating? It was the fact that the not-talking thing was more natural than it had been before. There were no conversations to cut off or be left out of. . .because, your faces were being stuffed.

Before the food had gotten there, you had gladly taken up Josh’s offer to start a movie. He had chosen The Shining (one of his go-tos). This had also aided in making the social atmosphere (or lack there-of) less awkward. 

Things had actually felt peaceful enough for you to lull off right after little Danny saw the two creepy twin girls in the hallway of the haunted hotel.  

🌼 🌼 🌼

You felt yourself slowly come to, but as you did, you heard the twins talking in quiet conversation. Their voices were hushed, seemingly to avoid waking you. 

And, as wrong as it may have been, you absolutely took that moment as your opportunity to eavesdrop like you’d wanted to earlier. 

You kept your eyes closed, working to keep your breathing steady as if you were still in a slumber. You were a sort of pro at the ‘faking being asleep’ thing. For reference, you had been a bookworm for as long as you could remember. So, as a child, you had mastered the skill of feigning sleep when your grandparents would come to check on you at night. Every time, you had actually been reading—never one to put a book down. (To your knowledge, your grandparents had never seemed privy to you being up late reading when you were supposed to be asleep.)

Your head was on Josh’s shoulder, so you had to work especially hard to control your breathing. You knew that if you had even one breath slightly off, he would notice. He was so much like you in being oversensitive to his surroundings. 

You let your ears fade into the conversation. 

It was Josh’s voice you heard first. 

“You need to give this a chance, Jake,” he sighed, and you could feel his body move slightly. It felt like the arm on the other side of his body was moving, probably to scrub a hand over his face. “She was so kind to offer her apartment to you.”

Thank you for pointing that out, Joshua, you thought. I love you.

“I’m not oblivious to that, Josh. Jesus,” Jake sighed, similarly to his twin. But his involved a bit of a grunt, as if he were pouting. “We are just too different.”

“How do you know the two of you are so different?” 

It took a minute for Jake to come up with his answer.

“Well, for one: she has fucking twinkle lights,” you could hear a couple of bracelets clang against each other, as if a hand of his was waving above you all. It was true, you had twinkle lights hanging in the living room. You enjoyed the cozy feel they brought with them. 

“I have twinkle lights,” Josh’s response sounded slightly offended. Because, yes, he had twinkle lights adorning his apartment as well. To be fair, he, Sam, and Danny had them hanging around their apartment.

“Not the same, Josh.”

The fuck? How is that not the same? This man was insane. 

“You two are more alike than you think, Jake. Seriously.”

Alike, Josh?! You’re going to say I’m like him?! Your thoughts were going haywire. 

You couldn’t believe he would compare you to his asinine brother. 

“I’m uncomfortable here,” Jake sounded slightly hesitant, kind of sad. “I’m already uncomfortable.”

Uncomfortable? That word hit you deep in the chest. 

What had you possibly done to make him uncomfortable? You always tried so hard to do the opposite, in every situation life handed you. 

Your heart sank. You were a natural helper. You prided yourself on it. You had been complimented on it many times, by several people in your life. You were honestly known for how great you were at helping those around you. This whole ‘allowing Jake to move in with you’ was on brand for you, if you were being honest.

You tried so hard to help people feel secure and ‘okay’ that his discomfort made your stomach churn. The last thing you needed was a roommate who didn’t find you helpful or warm. You were surely already in the midst of an identity crisis. 

And, you hadn’t even spent one whole night with this man in your home. 

Nothing you could do would make him like you, you were sure of it. 

At this point, you had tuned them both out. You didn’t feel like getting hurt anymore by Jake and his short, spiteful sentences.

You listened to the metal pull switch ding lightly against the ceiling fan’s light fixture. The fan was old and rickety and you needed a new one. 

These mindless thoughts saved you from the windy road your mind was creating, thanks to the one and only Jake Kiszka. 

And his simple sentences.

🌼 🌼 🌼

The arm you were lying against moved just right and it nudged you awake. 

“Oh,” Josh immediately noticed you were awake. He sounded apologetic. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to– I wanted you to get some sleep.”

You blinked your eyes open slowly, only looking up to Josh from where you were still leaning. You didn’t want to chance locking eyes with his evil twin. 

But you decided to be the mature one and sit up, even if it meant seeing Jake. 

Unfortunately, you were going to have to get used to seeing him. You honestly dreaded it. Greatly.

As you sat up, you looked around the room. Jake was nowhere to be found. 

Thank God.

“He went to bed,” Josh commented. “He needed sleep.”

You shook your head. 

He needs more than sleep, you haughtily thought. 

“I think I want to go to bed, too.”

Josh helped you shut off the lights in the apartment. You blew out the candle you’d lit earlier. You watched as the black smoke rose from the candle. 

It was one of the candle scents that you and your sister had always lit to make the apartment feel like a home to all. 

Your stomach flipped in circles. You wanted to be sick. All you had worked to do was make your apartment welcoming, friendly, cozy, safe. And apparently all you’d achieved so far was making your new housemate feel uncomfortable.

You couldn’t watch the smoke anymore, feeling tears well in your eyes. You swallowed down any other tears that you felt approaching in your throat. It was stupid to cry over an asshole like Jake. 

His words didn’t matter.

You scooped up Stevie, who had been sweeping her soft little body against your shins. She knew you needed her. 

You felt the tears well again. 

You faced away from Josh, not wanting him to see your watery eyes. You walked to your bedroom, not even looking in the direction of the apartment’s other bedroom. 

You knew he was following you to your bedroom because you knew Josh. He would do his best to see to it that you were doing better before he left you. 

You knew he could sense something was wrong with you. He knew you so well that you knew it had been obvious to him all night. And now, you knew you were being uncharacteristically quiet. 

As soon as the door shut behind him, you tucked yourself under the soft duvet on your bed. You lifted the covers up to your chin and laid your head down on your pillow. You knew you probably looked absolutely pathetic.

You didn’t care.

He sat on top of the covers next to where you laid. He smoothed a hand over your head and you felt Stevie situate her warm body next to your feet. You had become convinced that it was her favorite spot to lay at night. 

He tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, and hummed slightly. He scrunched up the left side of his face, his lips squishing together and an eye crinkling as he did so. He seemed to be pondering a thought. 

You knew he wouldn’t speak until you were ready to talk, though. Until you made a move to discuss something. Josh was good about that. He gave you your time to feel things. Even when Elsie moved out, as much as it broke his heart to see her leave, he didn’t say anything about it. He had let you have your time to feel without bringing it up. 

He had done it many times when big things had happened in your life. 

You needed his advice though. 

“This may sound naive, Josh, but I expected him to be more like you,” you paused for a second, and chose to look away from him with your next words. “He acted like an arrogant prick all night as I tried to welcome him into my apartment. The apartment I offered for him to stay in during his time of need – don’t forget.”

You knew you were taking some of your snippiness out on Josh when it was absolutely not his fault. But, you couldn’t very well say these things to Jake. 

Well, you could. You just hadn’t had the chance yet. 

And for some reason, you had suddenly decided that you wanted Jake to see that you were the bigger person in all of this. It should mean nothing for him to see you in a positive light. He was the last person who deserved it. But, killing with kindness could be good revenge. 

Josh knew you and knew that your snappy attitude was due to being so hurt already. He knew you felt your feelings to an incredible degree. He got it because he did, too. You knew all of this. 

Josh still had a pensive look on his smooth features. His brows were knitted, lips still squished as he thought through what he wanted to say.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he eventually said.

You waited a few beats for him to say more. And when he decided to look straight ahead instead of at you, you got impatient. 

“That’s it?” You sat up on your elbows, eyeing your curly-headed friend. 

“I–,” he stopped, contemplating. “I just can’t get into it. All I can say is that you’ve gotta give him time.”

You scoffed at him. “Give him time?” You shook your head, looking around your room. The lights were still on, neither of you thinking to turn them off. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“Y/N.”

“Joshua.”

He sighed, rubbing his finger and thumb over his forehead. It was obvious he was rubbing to alleviate the stress you were causing him and you instantly felt bad – for another reason entirely. Jake was not his fault. He might have been his twin, but it had become glaringly obvious that they were quite different. And Jake’s assholery was not Josh’s burden to bear. 

“I’m sorry, Josh,” you relented some of your anger. You knew Josh was feeling a lot at that moment and you didn’t want to put one more thing on his already-full emotional tray. He was an empath, after all, and today had surely tested his limits.

“It’s okay, Y/N. I’m not upset with you for feeling the way you’re feeling,” he looked at you again. He put a hand on your comforter-covered thigh, squeezing it slightly. “I just–it’s hard for me when I love you both so much and know the potential of a friendship that could blossom between the two of you if he wasn’t–,” he placed a palm to his forehead. “He’s being rude, yes, but he is going through so much. I know I’ve said it already, but that's all I know to say. I can’t be the one to explain the whole reason why. It’s not my story. It’s his.”

You worded your previous thoughts aloud, “He isn’t your burden to bear and neither am I.”

He grinned slightly, lifting his cheek enough to actually show his dimple. But his eyes were still forlorn. “I appreciate that, love.”

You knew your words hadn’t been the most comforting, but you were emotionally exhausted from the day and you just couldn’t put complete thoughts together anymore. The sleep was finally weighing you down, and you struggled to keep your eyes open in Josh’s direction. There was no talking, just stillness. It was nice. It was much needed for both of you after the night. 

Comfortable silence. 

He went in and kissed your cheek. 

Your relationship with Josh was completely platonic, but you were both people who communicated through touch. And considering how it was Josh’s main love language, it was natural for the two of you to be affectionate with little touches. 

“It will all work out,” he said, breaking the silence. “You can trust that he is a good person underneath the hardened exterior.”

You huffed a laugh under your breath, your eyes drooping. Your lids were entirely too heavy. “I trust you, Josh. But, I’ll have to give him time to prove himself,” you felt yourself nod off a bit –just for a second. You blinked your eyes open as wide as you could to look at him, feeling bad that you were losing to sleep. “I’m just not too hopeful he will.”

He hummed, surely in thought. “I’ll let you go to sleep,” he gave your thigh a final squeeze. “Goodnight, lovely friend.”

You were almost completely in slumberland, but could tell when he lifted off the bed. You squinted your eyes, refusing to let sleep evade you. You just wanted to rest. You could see through your half-lidded eyes when he turned off the lights. 

You listened as he left through the front door. And you heard him lock the regular lock and deadbolt with his key. 

Your last thoughts as you fell asleep were of the last wonderful days alone you’d had in your apartment. 

So long, peaceful home. 

So long, normality.

_ _ _

notes:

here is the doc that will have pics added to it as the story progresses!

i really hope you enjoyed this first chapter of Covet! Let me know if you'd like to be tagged for future chapters.

taglist: @joshym @gretavanfleetposts

[spotsandsocks]

✨ 2023 writing round-up ✨

Tagged by (and I might have missed some people sorry) @exhuastedpigeon @jamespearce9-1-1 @heartshapedvows @thekristen999 @jesuisici33 @daffi-990 @hippolotamus @wikiangela

Links to all 23 fics I’ve written which I’ve just realised coincidentally matches the year maybe I shouldn’t work on that Christmas fic after all 🤔 All under the cut cos that’s quite a few and your dash does not need to be bothered by that! 😆😆 I will forget to tag someone I know it, so if I do I didn’t really and you’re tagged too cos you’re wonderful

💕💜💕Thank you to each and everyone of you who talks to me, tags me, supports and encourages me, reblogs and likes. Sends asks and questions and prompts and love in my direction. Thank you for sharing your time, talents , your words and creative skills with us all. You make my days brighter and more fun. I adore you all and wish you all a happy kind and peaceful 2024. 💕💜💕

January

Home Wanted 6k established Buddie new pet based shenanigans 🐀🐁🐀

Could Have Should Have Would Have 3k my biggest hit this year angsty then sweet

Who You Gonna Call? 9k Eddie calls Buck and works out how he feels

February

This Must Be Love 5.7k fluffy valentines fic featuring pea puns 🫛

March

Just another minute 1.2k 6x10 spec

No Place 8.4k coma!buck spec fic with a few similarities to what we got actually

It's Such A Feeling 1.8k couldn’t remember but apparently hand appreciation fic that gets smutty 😉

April

Date Night 2k I got stuck on bus for almost 3 hours and this happened - surprisingly popular considering I had no plans to write it until traffic hit!

The Answer I Needed 2.4k Buck is always there for Eddie 5plus 1 across time till love strikes

Always There 1.6k Tía Pepa sees all at Christopher’s birthday party

May

Everything But (temptation) 4.7 5plus 1 of Eddie being a flirty tease and driving Buck crazy

Worth the wait5.7 same fic but from Buck’s perspective

July

Good Knight Sweet Prince 167,316k ahh my best beloved started in 2023 and finished this year. I adored writing and sharing this what turned out to be epic length fantasy au. Knights princes dragons thwarted love and a happy ending what can I say if that’s your thing give it a go.

Let me stay by your fire (for nothing warms me like you do)4.5k couldn’t let go of mediaeval theme so knight Buck this time coming home to his blacksmith friend Eddie. Oh and bees. 🐝

August

Something Worth Staying For 21k an enemies to lover (although not really enemies) small town newspaper au where Buck turns up and Eddie hates him until he doesn’t. Featuring my real life computer disaster 😆

Tied To You From The Start 13.4k a challenge I took on and did rather well if I say so myself 😆😆 paranormal mysterious shenanigans. Buck in peril and on the run Eddie trying to save him from his own self sacraments and hot sex.

September

The Comfort of Your Hands 2.9k inspired by an anon talking about Eddie running fingers through Bucks hair. No plans for this one it just happened and again was well received. Maybe I should stop planning fics and just see what happens.

October

The Price of Love (is high) 7.7k autumnangstfest drama. I put them both through it. All past traumas coming back to cause trouble.

Your heart or mine? Yours every time 3.6k a hungry vampire!Buck and Eddie get stuck in a lift … things occur

November

100 word fics added a short fic to this little collection i actually love doing these. It’s a great challenge

Only one answer 590 couldn’t remember.. had a look and went oh yeah that was cute. Proposal fic in under 600 words

In my defence I was left unsupervised 1.3k Buck gets bored with sissors Eddie likes the results … who could resist buzz but Buck… not Eddie it seems

Nov/Dec

The Lost and The Found wip 5/10 48k this was not meant to be this long but guess what.. got carried away and plot is plotting and demands around 100,000 at least in the end I suspect. 5 chapters out number 6and 7 before Christmas this counts as 2023 doesn’t it? Come join me for the ride

@daffi-990 @shortsighted-owl @monsterrae1 @rogerzsteven @hippolotamus @loserdiaz @the-likesofus @stagefoureddiediaz @yelenasbuddie @hoodie-buck @buddierights @bekkachaos @thekristen999 @ronordmann @caroandcats @spaceprincessem @disasterbuckdiaz @heartshapedvows @underwater-ninja-13 @wildlife4life @wikiangela @thewolvesof1998 @exhuastedpigeon @weewootruck @giddyupbuck @housewifebuck @honestlydarkprincess @pirrusstuff @elvensorceress @jesuisici33 @eddiebabygirldiaz @jamespearce9-1-1 @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @wh0re-behavi0r @princessfbi @jacksadventuresinwriting @ci5mates @katries @megsvstheworld @like-the-rest-of-la

[kit-kat-katie]

I love you, but you love him, and he loves me

A/N: Sometimes I forget that the things that I say have a tendency to age like milk... apologies for the lack of updates and fics. I've been drowning in schoolwork since the semester started and I haven't had much of a chance to work on an extended fic like Our Time. The current plan is to have this post up for February, put up a Johanna fic in April/May, and then finish up Our Time over the summer (hopefully). Anyways, here's some Clove fluff that's a week late for Valentine's Day! :D

oh, thanks for 100 followers! I am so happy that people enjoy my content without a regular schedule. thank you so so much again!

TW: underage drinking/smoking, brief mention of weed, small fighting scene, reader is put into uncomfortable romantic situation

Pairing: Clove x GN! Reader (Rivals to Lovers in 2x speed)

Summary: You love Clove. She likes Cato. Cato likes you. Your life is a comedic love triangle until your best friend's drunken disaster causes you to connect with Clove and discover something new about her.

“On your left.” 

Catelyn gives you a quick warning before flipping you on the back and slamming you against the mat. You squirm against her grip for a moment before spotting a weakness in her legs.

An opening.

You grab her leg and pull her to the ground before taking her hands and pinning them to the ground.

“Don’t count me out yet.” You sneer as she scoffs.

“Fucker.” She mumbles as a buzzer goes off in the distance.

You immediately jump off of her and offer a hand up, which Catelyn begrudgingly takes.

“Trying to impress your girl?” She raises an eyebrow before you shove her aside.

Clove’s staring at the two of you, well, just you since Catelyn’s stepped off the mat to grab a drink of water. Her eyes immediately drift off to look elsewhere as you let out a sigh.

You wish she’d look at you longer, as much as she looked at Cato.

It’s funny, in an ironic way.

You love her.

She loves him.

And he’s paused his sparring to walk over to you.

Probably to ask you on a date or to go drinking or to go do something with romantic undertones that you don’t want to do.

So he loves you.

Catelyn had egged the two of you on before realizing that you wanted nothing more than for him to leave you alone. You didn’t want to refuse Cato’s invitations - he was the choice for a Hunger Games tribute in the near future, and that’d piss off more people than your trickiness could outmaneuver.

Perhaps running through a nearby window would be the best way to avoid him?

…And he’s right in front of you.

You glance behind him, only to see Clove's jaw tighten.

Fuck.

~

An invite.

“That's all he wanted?” Catelyn teases as you make your way to the place where Cato always invited you after sparring practice.

It wasn't like the two of you were going to be alone. It was a tradition for the top contenders for this year's Hunger Games to engage in a few… adult activities before the Reaping occurred. This way, the two tributes shipped off could get to enjoy a little bit of adulthood before heading to the Capital.

It wasn't anything too awful, just some cheap booze and a few blunts to pass around. Any people that passed you all by would simply look the other way - who'd want to risk being harassed by a group of teenagers?

You didn't usually partake beyond a few sips from some cheap bottle of booze - someone needed to carry Catelyn home, after all.

When the two of you slip behind a pair of buildings, a few boys around Cato's age wave you over.

“Let's get this over with.” You grumble, hoping to spend this evening without uncomfortably resting in Cato's arms.

~

You failed.

Horrendously.

When you arrived, Cato threw an arm around you and hasn't let you go since. You're tempted to drink more so you don't remember what he's said or done, but seeing your friend nearly face plant into a campfire has you rethinking that decision.

As if matters couldn't get any worse, Clove arrived just in time to see Cato place a kiss on your cheek. She huffs before glaring at the two of you from a fair distance away.

This time, you notice, her glare isn't directed at you.

She's glaring at him.

~

Catelyn's barely able to stumble forward as you throw an arm around your shoulder. She excitedly points at a lamppost and tries to point at it, but she ends up falling out of your grasp and onto the barren road.

“Catelyn, c’mon,” You try to coax your friend from the ground, but she shakes her head, “We've got to get home before sunrise.”

“Nu-uh!” She slurs, face-down in the pavement.

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose until you hear footsteps come from behind you.

“Need some help?” 

In all of her brazen glory, your knight-in-shining-armor (a black leather jacket, a plain t-shirt, and blue jeans), Clove, offers to help.

“If you don't mind, I know you might be busy with someone else.” You quietly say as she shakes her head.

“I wanted to take a walk to clear my head, away from everyone else.”  She grabs Catelyn from the ground, who whines like a petulant child, before you hoist one of Catelyn’s arms over your shoulder.

Clove does the same, and the three of you walk in silence until a biting question slips off her tongue.

“Do you like Cato?”

“Absolutely not.” The answer leaves your lips before you can refine the words with a bit more thought. “We're friends, sure, but I don't feel anything for him.”

Relief escapes her lips as she takes a deep breath out, then in. She smiles, as do you in return.

“Good, good. I was worried that you were into him.” 

“Why?” You stop, which causes Clove to stop.

“I thought- I thought I liked him, but I saw him kissing you and… I didn't like how it made me feel.” She blushes at her honesty as you bite your lip.

“If you like him, Clove, you can have him. I certainly don't want him.”

She harshly laughs before turning to look at you.

“Don't you get it? All of those times that I saw you two together, I thought I was jealous of you. Today, after seeing him draped over you, I realized that I'm jealous of him.”

Her confession leaves you breathless as you pause to consider her words.

She… likes me.

“Clove, I…” It's your turn to get nervous as you try to meet Clove’s unwavering gaze. “I really, really like you too.”

Catelyn, in a moment of drunken clarity, lifts her head up to look at the both of you before loudly sighing.

“Just kiss already, you idiots!” She lets go of the both of you to (not-so) gracefully fall on the ground as your arm finds its way around her.

You lean in to kiss her, before pausing.

“Is this okay?” You mumble, centimeters away from her lips. 

A mischievous smile slips onto her face as she answers by kissing you back.

You wouldn't have many nights like this again, but this night would always be special to you.

[boobamilktease]

Tragic Fates - 1

Ever since I was a babe, my family had great relations with the Targaryens. My family had been there for the birth of Aegon, and they had been for the birth of my siblings, and eventually me.

Growing up with the Targaryens is a surprisingly stressful experience. I was always in the middle, never choosing a side, though I always leaned towards more Aemond’s side than others. Aemond, though he was quiet, was a joy to have around. He was like a much needed breath of fresh air….before the accident.

I wasn’t present for the accident when it occurred, but I did sneak to see him after the maester finished stitching his wounded eye. He looked so empty when I saw him…just sitting there. I remember gently creeping closer to him and I eventually called out to him.

“Aemond….are you ok?” I ask him, to which he doesn’t respond, only staring at what’s in front of him. Worry is written on my face and I attempt to call out to him once more. “Aemond…I heard what happened……” this statement seemed to finally snap him out of his daze as he stares at me with a cold look in his eye. “Why do you care? You won’t believe me….my own father doesn’t care enough to punish Lucerys!” Aemond says frustrated.

“I believe you Aemond…..I’ve been your friend for how many years now? And I do care about you! You are my friend! Blood related or not we are siblings.” I say, pouring my emotions to him…if he thought I didn’t care for him, he was entirely wrong.

Though, this didn’t stop the slight drift Aemond and I had between us. Aemond spent more time in his sword training and I was busy being prepared to be a wife. I was 14 when my betrothal was announced to the public. I was betrothed to a young lord of 18 who was not the ugliest man I’ve ever seen, but not the prettiest. Aemond was way more gorgeous than him.

Regardless, my wedding went without a fail, much to someone’s dismay. The bedding ceremony was as my mother described, mediocre at best. But what was interesting, was how Aemond stared at me all throughout the feast. Not once did he ask me to a dance, given they weren’t his thing though, and his eye never once drifted away from me.

For a while I thought I had done something to upset him, but in honesty I did nothing wrong. We never argued, we just slowly drifted apart as our lives became more complicated. Besides the mediocre bedding ceremony and many more attempts later, my marriage was ok. Obviously, I did not harbor any romantic appeal towards my betrothed, and surprisingly he understood.

We became more as friends than lovers, often telling jokes and gossip than having sex or producing heirs. I liked it this way, and so did he, but of course our families were concerned as to why no heirs had been conceived or at least a recorded attempt to conceive one. To that in which we came up with the little white lie saying I couldn’t be pregnant Ed resulting in a mistress.

As the years went by, my husband and the mistress were able to produce heirs enough to satisfy our families, and while they weren’t my children, I was an aunt to them. I was happy and proud that they were able to have children, and still consider me to be apart of their family. I was happy until I received a letter at my door stating that Prince Aemond was to be married soon and his wedding would be held in two moons. Instantly I was reminded of our history, and I was happy for him…right?

[traffic-was-a-b1tch]

anthem of the heart

(jake kiszka x reader) 18+

summary: you and your best friend move into a new apartment after college, wanting a fresh start in nashville. however, you come to find that your neighbors are musicians. very loud musicians who like to keep you up at night. especially one, who likes to bother you on purpose. you would hate him… if he wasn’t so hot.

warnings for overall series: eventual SMUT!!!, angst, mentions of past abuse (not jake), abuse (not jake), mentions of past sexual assault (not jake), sexual assault (not jake), enemies to lovers, cursing, let me know if I missed any. (i’m still making this series up as I go along so it might change)

warnings for this chapter: SMUT!!!, unprotected sex (WRAP IT UP!), oral (f rec), spanking (slightly), overstim, lingerie, cursing, sappyyyy jake, romanceeeeeeee!

author’s note: hello everyone! I know it has literally been a month since I last posted but I have reasons lol. I was a camp counselor during june and got incredibly busy with that. I also think that it’s worth mentioning that I didn’t realize how much time, work, and energy goes into writing a series like this! I just want to say i’ve come to appreciate every author on here and I appreciate all of you who have missed this series! with that being said: it is FINISHED! I will be posting all the parts right after each other! enjoy!

• • •

Chapter Ten:

“what the hell?” jake was obviously very startled.

“uh- um- I-“, danny stuttered, freaking out a bit.

jake started to talk rapidly and you followed, trying to piece this together in your mind.

“everyone calm down. come with me, I have to talk to you about this.” kaylee pulled you and your wide eyes over to a corner of the bar.

“what just happened, kaylee?!”, you were whisper-screaming.

“listen, danny and I just talked for a while. we talked about music and school, it was normal-“

“how can you say that when I just caught you with your tongue down his throat?”, you interrupted.

“because, ok? things escalated and we got close…one thing led to another.” she looked nervous, which made your face soften a bit. you did know a thing or two about things escalating randomly.

“you like each other? like for real?” you wanted to make sure this wasn’t a one night situation.

“yes. i’m being serious, trust me. i’m completely sober! all I had was a coke, I swear.” she took a deep breath, “I really like him.”

her tone made you drop your questioning scowl and accept that what she was saying was the truth.

“kaylee, this is crazy-“

“I know, I know! what are the chances, right?!”

“well, you know I love you. and I will support you in everything you do…even if it’s my boyfriend’s best friend.”

she stopped and her jaw dropped, “boyfriend?!”

you hadn’t even realized what you said until she pointed it out. in the busy past days, you hadn’t even had time to wonder what you and jake were. now, it finally occurred to you; as of now, you were just another girl.

fuck, that hurt more than you thought it would.

you tried to push the thought out of your mind, taking her arm, “let’s just go get another drink. we came here to celebrate!”

you both laughed and skipped back to the bar.

danny and jake were talking close to each other, clearly discussing what you had just witnessed. jake took a quick glance in your direction and caught you walking back over. jake let himself stare, forgetting whatever he was just saying and becoming lost in your body. danny followed jake’s gaze to you both, becoming silent and enthralled in kaylee. they gawked and you saw jake’s eyes become filled with a dark cloud once again.

“hey”, danny started when you reached them, “look, about me and kaylee-“

“it’s ok. I understand that things can change in a short amount of time”, you glanced at jake, “so i’m fine with this. as long as you behave yourself.”

everyone started to giggle, and jake shook his head. “baby, you must not know anything about danny. he’s by far the most well behaved one in the band.”

“what??? you mean it’s not mister hard rock guitarist who clearly hates buttons?” you shot him a fake shocked look and he smiled.

“oh come on, that’s my charm.”

you laughed, “yeah, right.”

he leant down to your ear, “what’s that? you trying to tell me it hasn’t worked?” he moved his hand to your hip and squeezed, “because that’s not what your soaking wet pussy tells me.”

your cheeks burn and you grab his hand tight, pleading with him.

the rest of the night flew by. there’s was tons of laughter and bonding, and after a few more drinks, kaylee decided it was time for you to go. she dragged you back to the apartment and you found yourself gushing over jake.

“kaylee i’m telling you, he’s so amazing. he’s charming, talented-“

“obviously great in bed”, kaylee mocked.

“oh shush”, you urged.

“come on, babe, you were in the bathroom for like 30 minutes at the bar.”

you blushed at the thought of what happened in the bathroom, but brought yourself back to the conversation.

“anywayyy, i’m being serious. I really like him.”

kaylee looked at you earnestly, studying you. “you really do, huh?”

you nodded. you knew deep down that nobody had made you feel like jake had made you feel, and you were holding on to him tight.

“well, go for it”, she said after a moment, “ask him about commitment.”

you recoiled, unsure of what jake would say. would it drive him away? would he never speak to you again? fuck, this was hard.

“I can try. but i’m terrified about what he’ll say.”

kaylee hugged your shoulders and tucked you into bed, “don’t worry about it now. sleep it off and think about it in the morning.”

you smiled at her, “I love you, kay.”

“I love you more.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

the next day came quickly, and you felt like you had only gotten five minutes of sleep.

your phone pinged and you groggily eased yourself up. grabbing your phone, you see jake texted you. suddenly, your heart fills with butterflies and you’re nervous to see what he said.

jake: hey what are you doing today?

you rub the sleep from your eyes slowly and text back.

you: nothing much. have a few errands to run and some shopping to do. what about you?

you were trying to take it easy today, but there was a few things that couldn’t wait. although, you wished you could’ve said, “absolutely nothing, jake! pound me over the kitchen sink! xxx”.

his typing bubbles popped up and shortly after you saw his next text.

jake: I can keep you company on your errands, if you want me to. josh is trying out this new vocal technique and it’s making my ears bleed.

you smiled and your heart fluttered.

you: sure! you drive?

jake: be ready in ten.

you threw your phone down and squealed like a little girl, your limbs flailing in your bed. you quickly pull on an outfit: white summer top with pink stripes, no bra (because you just didn’t feel like it), ripped jean shorts, and pink sandals. it was very hot out and you definitely didn’t want to sweat too much in front of jake. after brushing your teeth and hair, putting on light makeup, and grabbing your keys, you were out the door.

jake was waiting by his door, arms crossed. he was dressed in a simple brown t shirt, light jeans, boots, and his signature long necklaces. he looked up at you, smiling softly and walking over.

“hey cutie”, he called, wrapping his arms around your waist, “you look good.”

you roll your eyes, push him off, and start walking the other way, “oh, please.”

he giggles and you become entranced in the sound, immediately wishing to hear it again and again.

he follows you down to the parking garage and then leads you to his car.

“what a gentleman”, you comment as he opens the passenger door for you.

“oh, come on, baby. i’ve always been a gentleman.”

you scoff at him, “yeah, sure. that’s why I had to come over to your apartment multiple times to have you quiet down.”

he smirked, “maybe that was just to get you to come over…”

before his words truly hit you, he shut your door and walked to the other side to get in. you decided to say nothing, scared you misinterpreted what he said and all along he was just trying to aggravate you.

jake put on an old blues radio station and put the car in drive. as red house by jimi hendrix filled the car, he carefully rested his hand on your knee. his thumb slowly traced circles there and you got goosebumps. you smiled at the feeling, getting happy quickly and trying to look anywhere but at jake. you couldn’t risk that, because then you might cheese too hard and scare him away. god, you were so scared to lose him. he was wrapping his skilled guitar fingers tighter around your heart every minute, and you had no intention of stopping him.

the ride to the mall was full of comfortable chatter and silence, and before you knew it you had arrived. you put your hand on the handle, opening it and moving to get out of the car.

“wait!”, jake suddenly said.

you stopped and closed the door again, a bit confused. he fast-walked around the car, opening the door for you and extending his hand.

“milady”, he said in a medieval accent.

you giggled and took his hand, “good sir.”

you headed inside the mall, internally mapping your steps to find a makeup store.

“so jake, I have to go get some more concealer because I’m running low. are you sure you want to go with me?” you laughed a little while envisioning jake in a makeup store, nervous and unsure, looking at every product and recoiling at the prices.

“actually, I wanted to look at some other things here, if that’s ok. i’ll meet you at the food court?”

“sounds good!” you gave him a kiss on the cheek and squeezed his arm before heading off. you didn’t need to look back at him to know he was smiling.

you found the store you were looking for, picked out your concealer (and a lip balm), and paid in a record time of one hour. you left and made your way to the food court, hoping jake wasn’t waiting on you for too long. you found him sitting in the corner of the large dining room and as you got closer, you saw he had panda express in front of him. your mouth watered.

“I hope it’s ok, I got you some too”, he pushed your plate towards you.

“oh my gosh, thank you so much. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until now.” you instantly sat down and picked up your fork. he laughed at your urgency and began to eat as well.

you realized mid-bite that there was a jewelry bag on the table beside him. you chewed and swallowed before pointing at it, “what’s that?”

he turned it around to reveal the words “I love you” on the bag, followed by a heart and his name. “birthday present for my mom”, he waved it off.

you nodded and smiled, “awww, who knew you were such a momma’s boy, jakey?”

he snorted, “don’t push it. i’m being nice.”

“a new look for you, huh?”

his eyebrow cocked at you and a smirk crept onto his face, “do you want me to be mean?”

a beat passed as you sucked in a breath, hesitating on your answer. you chose silence and continued eating, not wanting to reveal that this was turning you on. he laughed darkly and started eating again.

when you had both finished, you took a walk down the mall and looked at all the stores. a victoria’s secret came into view and jake’s grip on your arm tightened. he shot you a mischievous look and started leading the way there.

inside was a plethora of bras and underwear on the walls and on shelves. you had never been in here with a man before, and you felt yourself stiffen just a little.

jake leant his face down to your ear and whispered, “I want you to go sit over there on the bench while I pick out a set for me to rip off of you at home.”

you hesitated, looking up at him to see if he was joking. his eyes were dark and his lips parted. not joking.

he met your ear again, “come on, baby. be a good girl and go sit. you know i’ll take care of you.”

your legs felt like jelly as you nodded and crossed the room to go sit at the bench in front of the store. you sat and saw him look at you, nodding in approval before walking to the lingerie.

you sat for what felt like an eternity, but was probably only twenty minutes, and finally watched him exit the store with a bag in his hand.

“what took you so longgg?”, you pestered as you stood up.

he shrugged and said, “it’s hard to pick one thing when you know everything would look amazing on you.”

you rolled your eyes, denying his compliment, and started to walk. he stopped you dead in your tracks and turned you to face him. then he grabbed your jaw, in front of the whole mall, and scolded you.

“don’t roll your eyes at me, pet. rude little girls don’t get rewards, they get punishments.”

you were taken aback by his boldness, your mouth open slightly, but everything he was saying was making you wetter and wetter.

he continued, “you think i’m lying about the lingerie, baby?” he got closer and whispered, “there’s nothing you could wear that I wouldn’t want to fuck you in. your body is so perfect I don’t even have words for it. I fucking worship you.”

you were at a loss for words. nobody had ever been so caring yet dominant to you, and you were eating it up. you looked up at him in amazement and all you could do was blink and breathe.

he chuckled and let go of your jaw, putting his arm over your shoulder and leading the way back to the parking garage. “I feel like getting some ice cream, don’t you?”

you stuttered but finally found your words, “yeah, ice cream sounds great.”

just a short drive from the mall was a cute ice cream shop with a balcony overlooking a little pond. you instantly knew you wanted to sit on the balcony. you thought that sounded like heaven: jake, ice cream, a beautiful view. who could want more?

after ordering and getting your ice cream, a cup of strawberry for him and a cone of vanilla for you, you made your way to the balcony. sitting across from jake on the cold metal chair, you took a second to lean back and breathe in the fresh air, feeling the cool summer breeze. after a minute of eating your ice cream in peace, jake spoke up.

“hey, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

you sat up and put all your focus on him, “ok.”

he looked nervous as he took a breath and started, “I know we’ve only known each other for a short time, but I feel like you were meant for me. i’m not trying to come on too strong or push you away with commitment but… I really like you. you’re strong, smart, sexy, successful, and so beautiful. i’ve never wanted someone so bad in my life.” his eyes shone with earnestness as he finished his sweet speach, “will you be my girlfriend?”

your heart felt like it was going to burst. your eyes started welling up with tears as you nodded.

“of course, jake. there’s nothing I want more in the world.”

he smiled bigger than you’ve ever seen and laughed in relief, “I was hoping you’d say that.”

as he spoke, he pulled out a box from his pocket and opened it. inside was a necklace. it was a patterned silver chain that dropped down to a single diamond pendant. you were speechless. it was so beautiful.

“oh my god, jake. when did you get this?!” you let your fingers graze the chain, feeling the bumps of the metal pattern.

“today”, he laughed. “my mom’s birthday isn’t for another six months.”

“it’s incredible. I love it.”

his eyes lit up and you could tell he appreciated your reaction.

the love that radiated between you was unmatched. it was unlike anything you’d ever felt with anyone ever before. you and him were on another wavelength. in another dimension. just you two and the love that was left unspoken.

he broke the trance and offered to put it on you. you never agreed so fast. you stood with your back to him and waited for him to take it out of the box and drape it over your head to lay it on your neck. you felt his breath behind you and his fingers brush your back. just thinking about it, you got goosebumps. when it was latched, he pulled your hair over it and turned you around. it laid beautifully and you were instantly obsessed with it.

“it’s perfect”, you gushed.

“you’re perfect”, he countered.

a blush attacked your cheeks and you realized your ice cream had been melting as cold liquid dripped over your fingers. you quickly licked at the cone, cleaning up the mess with your tongue, unaware that jake was watching. the sight of the white sweetness on your tongue and lips caused his breath to quicken.

“let’s go”, he warned, “before I lose it and take you right here on this balcony.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

the ride back to the apartment was quick, jake speeding through traffic haphazardly. we practically ran up the stairs to our floor and he insisted we go to his apartment.

he handed you the victoria’s secret bag and sent you to his bathroom to change while he waited in the bedroom.

the set he had chose for you made your eyes go wide.

it was a black satin bra and panties with straps connecting around your waist and stomach. you pulled it on, careful to not ruin it, and stood in the mirror. it was sexy and powerful, making you feel like a bad bitch. he really did know what he was doing. but the cherry on top was the diamond necklace that laid just north of your breasts. it matched the energy of your ensemble perfectly and you couldn’t wait to see his reaction.

you stepped out of his bathroom hesitantly and met him, clad in just his boxers, in his bedroom. you leant against the doorframe and released a sultry sigh. his eyes flicked to you, and his jaw dropped instantly. his eyes dragged up and down your body, clearly more than pleased, and as he locked in on the necklace, he smirked happily. he had been holding his breath as he took in your appearance, and let it shakily out as he stood and walked over to you. you met him halfway and ran your fingertips along his toned arms. he almost growled as he turned your back to him with a tight grip so that you faced the bed. he nestled his head in the crook of your neck and kissed, climbing up it further until he kissed the shell of your ear.

“you look fucking divine.”

jake moved you forward and onto the mattress on your knees. he pushed your head down and you caught yourself with your hands on the comforter. he pushed more, “that’s it baby, more. all the way, there we go.” almost your whole torso was now on the bed, your back arching so that your ass stayed high in the air.

he took that as an invitation and groped it for a minute, forcefully kneading it. without a second thought, he lifted his hand and smacked it hard. you yelped in surprise and he chuckled.

“so good for me, baby.”

you felt him kneel behind you and prepared yourself for what was to come. jake was a god at oral. he trailed kisses up the back of your thighs, causing you to shiver in excitement, and reached where you needed him. he planted a kiss on your covered pussy and you couldn’t help but moan.

“this set looks so much better on you than on the mannequin, baby. I wanna keep it on, see you make a mess of it.”

he pulled the fabric to the side, sighing and whispering “gorgeous”, and licked once from the bottom to the top. you breathed heavily, “please, jake. I need more.”

he soothed you with a soft touch on your ass and you could hear the smirk in his voice, “oh don’t worry, sweetheart. i’ll give you more.”

he dove in, sucking your clit so hard you nearly screamed. you were so turned on that you were getting close already. he started flicking his tongue over your clit, going inhumanly fast. you moaned his name so loud that you would’ve been scared for the neighbors to hear, if you were in your normal mindset.

you, of all people, knew how thin the walls were.

but with his tongue pulling you to the edge, it was impossible to think about anything else but him. just him. you started to plead with him, “jake please, please, please. too fast, I can’t.”

he pulled away, making you squirm. “isn’t this what you wanted, baby? sit still and take it.”

he went right back to you, this time inserting in tongue inside you. you gasped and gripped the sheets, holding your breath in ecstasy. he moved it in and out and his thumb found your clit to rub fast circles on it. you were now shaking, panting, and trying to fight your high as he was ripping it from you.

“jake, oh fuck.” you screamed in pleasure as your orgasm kicked you in the stomach.

he didn’t stop, though. he kept it up, letting you ride out your high and then some. you were now shaking in overstimulation and moving to get his mouth off of you.

“jake, please, no more”, you practically sobbed.

he planted one more kiss to your clit, making you jump at the sensation, before using his arm to pull you up and turn you over so you were laying on your back.

his face was covered in your mess and he was smiling. it was honestly the hottest thing you’d ever seen in your life.

he wiped his face with the back of his hand and came down to kiss you ravenously. your hands found the back of his neck and pulled him impossibly closer, needing more of him. your tongues danced in each others mouths and you whimpered at the feeling.

he disconnected, almost like he was restraining himself, and held close eye contact, “I wanna watch you fall apart as I ruin you.”

with that, he released himself from his boxers and pushed into you. he was careful not to lose eye contact and he watched your eyes almost roll back at the stretch. you two were breathing heavily as you stared at each other. he took a moment, not moving, just to look at you. his deep brown eyes were richer than you thought, speckled with lighter shades of brown and hazel. you wanted to stay there with his eyes, wrapped up in them, forever. you caught the glimpse of a genuine smile tugging at his lips before he slowly pulled out and pushed back in, your mouths dropping open. he grasped your breast, taking it out from underneath the satin, and brushed your nipple softly with his thumb. he pulled back out and in again, all while stroking your nipple, and you fought the overwhelming urge to close your eyes. you knew you couldn’t, though.

this was personal. romantic. a new step.

he kept going, slowly building speed, but never losing your eyes. he watched your face contort as he nudged your special spot. you groaned and he went a little faster, fueled by your reaction. “so pretty, baby.”

this was all about you, it seemed. he was getting off on your sounds and your expressions; it was deeply loving.

before long, you could feel your orgasm building. your moans grew louder and he groaned in satisfaction. your hands fell from his shoulders and hit the bed as you gave your whole body to him. he reached and grabbed one of your hands, engulfing it with his own and intertwining your fingers. it was perfect, so perfect. after only a few more thrusts, the band snapped and your high washed over you. you let your eyes roll back and close, making him rub your hand with his thumb to bring you back to him. he wasn’t far behind you. three more thrusts and he shuddered as he came in you. you watched him slow down, his eyelids drooping.

you stayed there a minute, letting the bliss linger for just a moment longer. it made you realize: the relaxation after you cum was a feeling you wanted to feel with him. only him. that was a scary thought.

he pulled out and grabbed a towel from his nightstand that he had probably put there in preparation while you were changing. he helped you clean him off of you and put it back on the counter, snuggling back up with you.

this peace was perfect. just him and you. it felt as if it would last forever.

and you hoped to god that it would.

• • •

it’s sooooo sweet… but will it last?

taglist: @gvfpal @hollyco @piratejakesgf @sunandthemoontwinflames @kiszkas-canvas-deactivated20240 @jjwasneverhere @anythingforjtk

[mrssimply]

WIP Whenever.

So, the holidays did me good (by giving me more free time and energy, it's always about free time and energy). For the occasion, I continued a little of what will probably be my last Cyberpunk fanfiction (then again, I said that when I wrote the second fic, and there were over forty more after that one so...¯\_(ツ)_/¯. But that's not the point).

I also finished the first chapter of the third part of my Wild Animals Rebellion series for the John Wick fandom. To celebrate this achievement after months of struggling with any and every line, I decided to share a little snippet... Or not so little since I don't know how to chose and where to stop so you get about 2 pages worth. Please enjoy xD.

---

Under the bright light, Santino’s state looked even worse. He wasn’t moving much, and his skin was covered in a sheen of sweat. He was shivering, blinking slowly under the doctor’s questions as he tried to fight unconsciousness.

His eyes fell on John when he approached the bed and he gave his lover a tight wavering smile.

“I’m late,” he slurred in neapolitan and lifted a hand toward John. 

The former assassin came closer and took the proffered hand, feeling how cold it was.

“Santino…”

“I fear we might have to reschedule our evening, my love.”

John frowned and opened his mouth, but before he could reply the doctor was elbowing him away, and another pair of hands pulled him back. Leonora gave him a disapproving look.

“Give them space,” she ordered, switching to english. As a rule, Leonora didn’t speak to John in neapolitan, which the man knew was a sign she didn’t recognise him as family or clan. Santino found it cute, he’d told John she was like a protective great aunt. 

John deferred to her, stepping back with a last worried look at Santino. He saw the doctor cut the high quality fabric of her patient’s shirt, revealing a large and ugly gash. It was hard to tell if it was deep or not.

To John’s surprise, he found himself suddenly angry, although he couldn't tell at what in particular, or whom. Confused by his own reaction, he turned to Cassian on the second bed. The man was covered in scratches and bruises, and a nurse was currently stitching a clean bullet wound by his left shoulder. By the bodyguard’s standards, this was nearly nothing, and he looked clear headed enough.

“What happened,” John growled. 

Cassian’s eyes slid to Santino’s form on the other bed before flickering back to John, hesitating.

“If you don’t know, then I shouldn’t tell you.”

“Tell me anyway.”

Cassian seemed to ponder his choice before sighing. He rubbed his forehead with his thumb.

“Santino was meeting with the ‘Ndrangheta, one of the main oldest clans. They operate in Cosenza,”

“The Imerti family,” John summarized. He knew the inner workings of all three Italian Mafia pretty well, a fact Cassian forgot, or liked to ignore.

“Yes. The meeting was supposed to be secret, but… We got ambushed.”

“By the Imerti?”

“No, another family, De Stefano.”

The main ‘Ndrangheta clan. Nicolasi De Stefano held the seat for the mafia at the High Table, and was the eldest of the members. 

Several questions pressed at the back of John’s teeths, and he had to take a second to center himself. The unexplainable rage continued to grow, blinding his judgment.

“Why was Santino meeting with the ‘Ndrangheta?” he asked, forcing his tone to remain neutral.

Cassian’s face told him he’d failed to do so. Worse, a flash of pity crossed the bodyguard’s features.

“You know why.”

He did know. Santino was planning a revolution and he was looking for sympathizers to his cause. In the first days of their new relationship, it had been all he’d talked about : planning, strategizing, plotting the demise of the High Table. 

John was of the opinion that they should let them come, he would deal with them the same way he’d done until now: head on, or by turning their own rules against them.

It occurred to him that Santino had never stopped working toward his goal. He’d just stopped telling John about it. The realization sat uneasily in his stomach.

“It was even going well, as far as I could tell,” Cassian went on, distracting John from his own thoughts, “always difficult to say with certainty, they talk in layers, but I think Santino was pleased.”

“What happened?”

“De Stefano’s men stormed in. One grabbed Imerti by the hair and cut his throat before any of us could recover. After that it was a clusterfuck. We lost all of our men so that we could get out.”

From the bodyguard’s tone, John could tell it had been a really close call.

“They helped us, the Imerti. Through a back door, and lent us the car. We’re alive thanks to them. If they survive the purge, we might have secured allies.”

John felt Leonora come by his shoulder, listening to Cassian’s report as well.

“You think we have a mole?” she asked.

“Don’t think so. The only ones that knew who we were meeting and what for are in this room. I briefed our men an hour before departure and they didn’t leave my sight.”

“On the Imerti side then.”

Cassian nodded, glancing over his shoulder at his boss. The doctor was still bent over Santino, but her movements were slower than before. The urgency was past. 

The bodyguard then turned to the consigliere. 

“I think it’s proving more difficult than he expected.”

John looked at Leonora, but couldn’t parse her expression. The old woman could be like a prison wall when she wanted to, which was a great quality as a consigliere according to Santino. When he’d first come to Praiano six months ago, she’d been more open to him, John realized idly, wondering when she’d slipped back into warryness.

Tonight was full of revelations.

“Review the men, Cassian,” she ordered, “the snare is tightening, we can leave nothing to chance.”

Wearily, the bodyguard agreed with a nod. Seemingly satisfied, Leonora retreated to address the rest of the household, asking for additional rounds to check the mansion’s grounds. 

Cassian then looked a tJohn.

“Should I start with you?”

“With me?”

“The review. Should I start with you?”

Anger flashed anew in John’s veins, surprising him once more in its intensity. He frowned, pulling his lips down into the beginning of a snarl.

“I’m not part of your men.”

“No, that’s right, but you’re not part of the house either. Sometimes I wonder if you’re even in this with us.”

The shock rendered John speechless, and he didn’t recover in time to stop Cassian from hopping down the bed and walking out of the room.

[slothgiirl]

a rose by any other name epilogue

reader x druig.

New York. North Dakota. 2024.

You had never been to New York before. Not in this life, or any other. You weren’t sure this counted either.

Seeing a city from the airport cab ride to Doctor Strange’s place in the city seemed like cheating. You’d seen the famous skyline, but hadn’t step foor anywhere.

“Is there some superhero directory I’m not aware of,” you ask Druig, craning your neck. You were pretty sure that was central park, gone in a flash.

“Sanctums are quite stationary,” he shrugs, licking ketchup off his fingers. You thought airport hotdogs were a bag idea. “This one’d been around since the 1700s. When it was New Amsterdam.” 

“Wasn’t Hong Kong closer?”

Druig shakes his head, “we need someone. . .flexible about all those rules they made about the mystic arts.”

“Two thousand years and it never occured to you until now,” you ask him, slouching into the seat. The world was still intact. The news hasn’t stopped reporting on the new chain of islands in the indian ocean that look like fingers. 

Tiamut was neither alive or dead in some weird cosmic energy thing you didn’t understand. 

Druig looks over at you sheepishly, “I had other things on my mind.” His gaze flickers down to your chest.

It’s probably the whole averted apocalypse that has you in such an indulgent mood; you lean you head against his shoulder and smack his chest lightly.

“Careful my lady,” he says sounding terribly smug, “Ikaris did attempt to murder me.”

“I guess I’ll have to finish the job,” you rest your hand against his chest, feeling his ribcage move as he breathes. He wasn’t fine. 

Druig was careful to keep weight off his left foot. 

Phastos had given him the all clear which didn’t make you feel much better. Not when two of them had died in the span of days. 

Phastos had left quickly, unable to be away from his family for any longer. 

“Oh, is that how it’s gonna be,” he laughs.

“I guess I could let it slide,” you meet his gaze, feeling immense relief all over again, “you did just save the world.”

Druig tips his chin up, looking full of himself. 

There was a lightness to him that you’d missed, a playfulness that was so characteristic of your Eternal lover. Your eyes rover over his features that you knew so well. The scar on his cheekbone, near the outer corner of his eyes, had not faded at all. The way his brilliant blue eyes crinkled with easy smiles and how his laugh filled a room. 

He was there. Alive. You were both alive. 

So many lives and you continued to be enamoured of him. It never got old, being in love, making a home with him. Anyplace, anytime. 

There were tears in your eyes.

Again.

All you’d done this week was cry.

“I did,” he nods, pressing his lips against your hair. “Though if you hear Phastos tell it-”

“Yeah,” you clutch the fabric of his shirt. 

Sensing your somber mood, Druig wraps his arms around you. “I’m right here, love.” He tucks your head under his chin, “‘S alright.”

“When the plane started to shake,” you say quietly, “I thought that was it-” It was over. The world ending with you in a private plane. 

There had been so many close calls.

“The world’s always ending,” you mutter, breathing in his scent. You understood Lizzy, finally. 

It was never over. Earth was still in trouble after Thanos.

Captain Marvel had her hands full with the rest of the universe.

“Is this what being part of the universe is like?” Always being scared some empire would come in and take over, being invaded, some asshole destroying your planet for no reason. You didn’t want to sit by and hope for the best. You couldn’t.

It would drive you mad.

“I-,” he frowns. “Well, I wouldn’t really know. Don’t remember anything but Earth.”

“All those planets-” you shift your gaze out the window as the cab pulls to a stop. What about the planets where Arishem got their way? 

“I know.” 

Druig’s expression grows weary. It was the same way he’d looked when Ajak had forbidden them from aiding the Mexica from smallpox and the genocide on the horizon. He wasn’t going to let this go.

You pay for the cab. 

The sanctum is an unassuming building. The plaque is the only way you know you’re in the right place. 

You're surprised there's no awards for saving half the universe. No Avengers insignia for Doctor Strange. 

Druig holds your hand.

“This isn’t some. . .” you pause, “He can help right?” You didn’t understand much of anything when it came to magic. 

“If not,” his eyes glow. “I can always. . .”

It’s comforting. 

“Okay.” You nod.

The world was still spinning. There was nothing else you could do but go for it. 

Dr. Strange seemed the type to break whatever rules suited him, very Iron Man-esque who thought he was above the Sokovia Accords. Right? You try not to think to hard about Ultron. About ashes and world heritage sites getting destroyed by the latest threat. The London Eye was still closed. 

You breathe.

And knock against the door.

It swings open.

You aren’t sure what to expect as you step through: cauldrons and black witches hats covered in dust and cobwebs. The last sanctum had been ordinary for it’s time, filled with students and ancient sayings in calligraphy hanging on the walls. That isn’t New York either. It lacks the faux orientalism prevalent in Europe circa the 1800s. 

No, the New York sanctum feels like a rundown hotel that’s decades past its prime but no less grand for it. There’s tasteful tables with relics you imagine are just as magical as Phastos inventions. 

You peer around the grand staircase, expecting to see someone. “Hello?” You don’t have to check to know Druig’s a step behind you. His presence is an anchor as you venture further into the sanctum. 

There were no students. 

It feels abandoned compared with Hong Kong. 

Your chest tightens at the thought of the sleepy fishing village. Hong Kong was nothing like that now. There was a certain pain that came with knowing the world was transformed each time you lived. You thought of street food vendors whose names only you knew. 

All that history you carried with you. The faces of people you’d loved. The memories of books that had not survived. 

You press your tongue to the roof of your mouth. 

In your mind’s eye, the ashes of the Snap were the same as the smoke of Tenochtitlan burning. 

Druig sets his hands on your shoulders, “do you think they have an Instagram we can message?”

“Ha, very funny,” Dr. Strange walks in from a corridor, looking over his shoulder like a teenager sneaking out of the house, “do you mind if we move this into the laundry room. Don’t want Wong to interrupt us,” he says even as he leads the way.

“You were expecting us. . .Dr. Strange,” you state aloud looking for confirmation. It was a parlour trick for these sorcerers. 

“Yes and no.” He whips his head, turning to you as he opens a door, “and please call me Stephan. Dr. Strange is grandiose even by my standards.”

“And the discount Jedi robes aren’t,” Druig says cocking his brows. 

You elbow him, “look who’s talking.”

“My lady,” he holds his hand against his chest in mock offence.

You roll your eyes at him. 

Stephan looks on, amused. “I foresaw the high possibility that you’d stop here. . .it the world wasn’t destroyed, if you both survived, if you chose to leave. There’s so many factors. A background in statistics is useful in the mystic arts.”

“Well that’s no fun.” You’d been hoping for less maths and more wand waving. In the news, it seemed so easy, just a wave of his hands and-TA DA. 

“And neither is reincarnating,” Stephan snarks back, taking a seat on a laundry basket full of either robes or linens. 

You purse your lips. “It’s not ideal. But not awful.” You never really remembered dying unless it was awful. That hadn’t happened in a while. No, it was more like being homesick for a time and place that didn’t exist but people struggled with that all the time. People moved so often in this century: never knowing when they’d go back home. 

And that wasn’t even touching on displaced people. Millions of Sokovian refugees. . .

“So you're not here to get that fixed?” Stephan asks pointedly. 

He must’ve decided to become a doctor by watching House M.D. Copied the whole schtick off there. 

“I thought it couldn’t be. . .changed.” You frown, crossing your arms over your chest. You wish you could google this magic stuff. You didn’t like being so badly informed. 

“No. The spell you cast can’t be modified,” Stephan agrees, “I’d have to break it and create a new one. Though granting any type of immortality is a big no-no in the mystic arts.”

“Which is why we’re hiding,” Druig infers.

Stephan Strange frowns ruefully, “I’m not Sorcerer Supreme anymore or it’d be my call. I still-I’m still going to help.”

“Right?” 

“Earth needs all the allies it can get.”

“So not out of the kindness of your heart,” you surmise, feeling like a pawn. You’d never liked how Ikaris and Ajak had made you feel like a tag along. Like Druig’s human pet. It left a bad taste in your mouth. 

“You don’t think you’ve lived long enough?”

And wasn’t that also true. You’d been lucky to witness so much. History and people and spend it with the man you loved, your soulmate, not just once but over and over. It was far longer than most people got. You’d told Druig something similar once. 

What made you so special you deserved an exception?

“Oi,” Druig stiffens. 

But this wasn’t his call. This wasn’t about him. Not really. 

This was about you. You who was just another human having an unusual conversation with a peer. Often, you’d be the token human in the Eternals conversation and no matter how long you’d lived there was still something unique about the human experience that you could relate to Stephan Strange in a way that Druig and Sersi would never understand. 

(You’d talk about this with Sprite one day.)

“I think I’ve been very lucky,” you acknowledge. “But all I want is this life. For however long that is. I think I’ve done enough reincarnating, y’know.” It had all been a cosmic accident you didn’t even remember creating. Had you been trying to save yourself and the magic came out like this? Had you meant to create another spell? 

These memories were lost to you now. And they didn’t matter. 

You were done with living again and again. You didn’t want to forget and remember and forget again. You wanted to hold onto all of you, your memories and thoughts and your muchness as it was right now in this moment and die knowing that was the end. Just like everyone else. (You were curious about what came after, if anything.)

“Okay,” Stephan smiles kindly. “I’ll help you. But- this’ll be it. No second chances. No next time. No do overs. You’ll be frozen in time. You’ll still have your magic, but you won’t age. You couldn’t ever have children. You’ll still be just as breakable as me and every other sucker in New York.”

“Alright.” You nod.

“You sure? I can always just break the spell.”

“I’m sure.” 

He nods. “Well then, try and stand still. I need to concentrate.” Dr. Strange waves his hands in cyclical movements. 

It’s like a buzz under you skin. Something’s happening, but it’s too foreign for you to understand what. The small cramped room fills with light. 

You shut your eyes and count, steadying your breath. This was it. 

By this time tomorrow you’d be in space. 

It was crazy when you thought about it. No less crazy than Thanos and New York and falling in love with an alien. 

1. 2. 3. 

Deep breath. 

***

Makkari waves her pointer finger in a circular motion, the most universal hand gesture for spin around. 

You indulge her, “you’re acting like I grew another head or something.”

The speedster smiles, I am glad you are coming with us. 

You grin, “you’re only saying that so I help you with your eReader. Or did you splurge on an Ipad? Wait, you probably stole it.”

Looking awfully mischievous, Makkari holds her finger to her lips, hush now. Didn’t happen if there’s no witnesses.

You laugh, figuring there were worse crimes than stealing from the Apple Store. 

The Domo floated above head. Thena was all packed up and ready to go. You’d said your goodbyes to Sersi, Kingo, and Sprite days ago. 

Now it was just about leaving. Leaving this green and blue rock you called home. 

You bite your bottom lip. It had been hard packing up, mostly because you didn’t know when you’d be back. Clothes, essentials, a magic book from Dr. Strange. Saying your goodbyes hurt the most. 

What would Sprite look like at twenty? You were so used to her as an adolescent. Your siblings. . .

“We don’t have to go.” Druig reaches for your hand. “We can stay if you wish, my lady.”

North Dakota was gloomy today. 

“I want to.” That was true. You also felt bittersweet at leaving this planet. “I want to see the stars. Find the other Eternals.” You meet his startling blue eyes, cupping his cheek. “I want to do all of it with you.” 

He rests his forehead against yours. “I love you.”

“I know,” you nod, “just, give me a moment.” You squeeze his hand, before slowly heading towards Thena. You take your time, gazing over the landscape. The grass was brown and dead for the season. You're pretty sure it’s going to rain tonight. 

It was frightening to say goodbye to everything you knew. It was frightening to begin a new chapter after so long. There’s security in the known, in the constant, and now that is gone. But you were ready for it. You were ready to begin a new chapter. You weren’t in this alone. You had Thena and Makkari, and the man you loved and that was all you really needed. The people you loved. 

You look over your shoulder, watching as Druig hugs Phastos, ready to explore the stars.

notes: bookendings with makkari and druig at the end just like how the first chapter was makkari and druig mainly. im making up that dr strange timelooped reader’s physical body so shes frozen in time. idk. idk. he’s also like yeah mb this is important to the cosmos the way he connected the dots that tony start needed to live to defeat thanos. either way druig and reader get to have lots of sex on the domo after saving the world and thena forces makkari to organize her piles of stolen things. mb reader learns to use magic and starts being able to hold her own in a fight.

[late-nite-scholar]

TES Shiptober- Dream

I have no explanation for this. It just happened. Prompts by @hombrediablo

Wordcount- 830-ish

Warnings-language

Dagoth Ur x Nerevarine (who is not described, vaguely implied to be Dunmer)

made in picrew. description in alt text

***

It was the moment. The moment. The Nerevarine, walking down the path toward him. In the space of a few heartbeats, the fate of everything would be decided. 

“Welcome, Sweet Nerevar, to this place where destiny is made.” A practiced line. He’d had plenty of time to think about what to say when this all finally occurred. 

But the Nerevarine seemed much less impressed. They bared their teeth, snarling at him. “Don’t you fucking ‘Sweet Nerevar’ me! Not after you spent months teasing me!” 

This was not how this conversation was supposed to go. The outburst caught him off-guard, and he found himself answering more honestly than intended. “I am not sure I understand what you mean.”

“Nix shit you don’t!” Stabbing a multi-ringed finger at him, the Nerevarine glared daggers. “Months of dreams, Dagoth. Months. And I didn’t care that they went in that direction. Cool, cool, you and Nerevar were lovers, let’s do it up. But not once did you see things all the way through! You cut me off every single time!”

“I ended nothing before resolution. You were the one who left before the… climax of things, Sweet Nerevar. I was willing to overlook such a slight. Perhaps you did not feel ready. I do not hold a grudge for that. But to accuse me…”

“I didn’t end shit!” The Nerevarine shouted. 

“No, I did.” A new voice spoke, and they both froze. The third floated not far from the Nerevarine, putting on their best patient teacher look. Dagoth rolled his eyes behind his mask. 

“You are not supposed to be here at this time, Vivec,” Dagoth pointed out. 

“I thought perhaps I should set the record straight. Especially since this is not why this meeting is supposed to occur.”

“You’re the one that’s been cockblocking me all this time?” The Nerevarine launched themselves at Vivec, knocking them both to the ground. Dagoth watched for a few moments, as they cussed and swore. Then they were shaking Vehk, slapping him until the flame that wreathed his head went out. Vehk seemed too bewildered to do anything in response, cowering back from the angry hero. 

Eventually, after standing awkwardly for a few moments, Dagoth felt compelled to do something. He gently pulled the Nerevarine away from Vivec. 

“I think he understands. You don’t have to keep going.” 

Tears ran from the crimson eyes of the Nerevarine as they shouted one last time, “I trusted you! But you were just going to treat me like you treated him! You told me you didn’t know what was going on!”

“Nerevarine, please…”

“I don’t ever want to see you again, Vivec. I know what happened last time, and I don’t trust you anymore.”

He disappeared again, and Dagoth watched the spot for a moment before asking, “What happens now, Nerevarine? Our meeting has been interrupted most rudely.”

The Nerevarine moved closer, looking up at him as their hand reached up to rest on his chest. “I would like, now that we no longer have any interruptions, to finish what we started so many times before. If you wish to as well, Voryn?” 

As the Nerevarine spoke his given name, Dagoth knew he would not refuse.  

***

“I don’t understand, gahata…” The child (though not for much longer) crossed their arms at their grandfather. “That doesn’t seem right.”

“But I remember it! The Blights lifted, the Dreamers returned. Those who had been afflicted also returned, cured. Sometime later the Nerevarine descended from the mountain, dressed in the colors and sigils of the Sixth House and with the Sharmat on their arm. They told us they were leaving for a honeymoon in Akavir and we haven’t seen or heard from them even two hundred years later. I was youngin’, but that kind of thing stays with someone their whole life.”

“The Temples don’t say that’s what happened.”

“You think the Temples are going to spread a story like that? No boy, they needed something cleaner, something palatable. So they have their version. Not that it really matters, it all got sorted in the end, didn’t it?” 

As the child left, the grandfather retreated to a back room in the house, carrying two mugs of tea. He gave one to a hooded figure, huddled on a pallet bed. The figure’s shoulders shook with the ghost of a laugh as a red eye and a gold eye reflected from inside the hood.  

“Thank you. You know they’ll never believe you, young man? The story is too far-fetched, even for the truth.”

“But I still have to try, M’Lord. And I’m no young man anymore.”

“Indeed. And I have almost finished fading. I’ve been without my power so long I’ve forgotten it. It’s almost time. Perhaps we will go together.”

“Well, M’Lord, I’d be quite honored if it came to that. After takin’ you in and getting to know you all these years.”

“Thank you, my friend.”

The two old men drank their tea in silence after that, lost in their thoughts.       

[bylightofdawn]

WIP Sunday

Today was pretty productive writing-wise in between my watching Book of Boba Fett.

I managed to write a very emotionally squishy JasPlo scene which after like 16 chapters of this JasPlo fanfic, there's really not a LOT of them in it.

So any time I get to write them being soft with one another, my heart melts a little bit. I'm also struggling to write around minor spoilery plot points. I wanted to include the parts with Myles but I didn't want to give away any future fic spoilers. Just know before this that they were enjoying a breakfast of green eggs and space ham which Plo had cooked for them.

“He is a good kid.” Plo mused as the Kiffar disappeared from view.

“One of our best and brightest hopes for the future.” Jaster agreed as he finished his own breakfast. “This was really good, cyare. I must admit, I saw the green eggs and I was a little skeptical at first.” 

It was also a little strange but also charming that Plo had cooked for them. Mainly because the food-eating experience wasn’t one they typically shared. He’d certainly seen Plo imbibe an outrageous amount of nutrient shakes which he partook of with an induction port in his antiox mask. 

Plo had mentioned however in the safety of his inner quarters at the Jedi Temple that he enjoyed making traditional Kel Dorin recipes when he got the time. But they couldn’t share your typical ‘romantic’ meals together. Of course, like the other physical limitations and barriers they had encountered during their relationship, they managed to find a way that was fulfilling for both parties. 

“I’m glad you weren’t too turned off by the color of the eggs then. I enjoy cooking when I can get the opportunity and not to besmirch young Myles but the lad looked like he was about to keel over when we left the temple so I figured I’d better get some food into him quickly.” Plo chortled quietly as a bloom of something akin to satisfaction welled in his chest.

Later, Jaster would try to tell himself it was the lack of sleep that compelled him to open his mouth without really thinking things through but he suddenly found himself speaking before his brain engaged. 

“Do you think, after everything calms down and our schedules somehow find a way of aligning, you could take me to see Dorin one day?” The question slipped out of his mouth before he even realized the thought had flitted through his head. 

Plo was just as surprised as him, he could read it in the Jedi’s body language and an unfamiliar flush started to heat up his cheeks. “I mean, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in your natural environment or without that mask on. And it occurred to me, it feels a bit one-sided. The galaxy isn’t really built for those who can’t adapt to breathe oxygen and that’s not very fair for you. And I think I would like to see you without having to wear the antiox mask and maybe one day get to look you in the eye directly.”

As a general rule, Jaster wasn’t the kind of man given to overly romantic gestures of flowery love talk. 

He was a plain-spoken sort of man and Plo Koon loved that about him. But every once in a while, he said something that forced the Kel Dor to completely rearrange his entire view of the man and that was exciting on a whole other level. He delighted in being able to discover new facets and sides to his lover even after all this time. 

And he would be lying if he said he wasn’t deeply charmed by the man’s unexpected solicitousness. 

Admittedly, until now, there had been no chance of him being able to share a space with his lover where he didn’t need to wear his antiox mask and goggles mainly because as Jaster had set, the universe wasn’t equipped for the needs of a species that breathed Dorin-gas and helium. But here on Coruscant, that was a possibility. There was a special set of rooms in the Senate built exclusively for members of the Dorin delegation so that they did not have to rely on their antiox masks. 

“You know we could experience that anytime you are here on Coruscant, right?” Plo felt obligated to point out with affection laced through his voice. “Most of my quarters at the Temple are set up for a Kel Dor living environment.”

“True but I would like to see where you are from. I want to experience your culture and see you in the light of your homeworld’s sun. I would like to meet your people and see how they live when not forced to adapt to the rest of the universe. You’ve seen me amongst my people and have seen our ways, I would like to learn the ways of your people now.” 

A lump of emotion welled in his throat momentarily and Plo Koon found himself incapable of speech. He understood Jaster’s meaning and what he was saying without saying. He knew how tightly Mandalorians clung to their traditions but also how they could be shockingly open and accepting of those who were not born of Mandalore. 

“I would love to show you my homeworld someday, Jaster.” He finally managed just a trifle hoarsely and Plo could not stop himself from reaching out for Jaster’s hands which he encircled in his larger claws oh so tenderly. 

Here, in these scant few stolen moments of privacy, they dared let down their guards and joined hands with quiet affection. Jaster smiled tiredly and drifted closer until they were toe to toe. At this point, it felt almost instinctive for Plo to lean down ever so slightly as Jaster pushed up onto the balls of his feet so that they could press their foreheads together in tender kov'nynir. 

They might not be able to kiss or express their affection for one another due to their physiological differences but Plo had discovered he quite relished the soft intimacy of the gesture. 

After a long moment, they pulled away and Plo couldn’t help but tease his lover just a little bit.

“So, by meeting my people, does this mean you wish to meet with my familiar in particular, Jaster? Are we at the meet-the-family stage of our relationship?” He teased but there was more than a little bit of wistful hoping in Plo’s heart when he spoke those words.

His teasing earned him a snort and an eye-roll from his lover.

“I take back what I said.” The Mandalorian snarked and that drew a laugh from the Kel Dor.

“No take-backs, I’m afraid. Those are the rules.” 

“I don’t remember agreeing to those rules.” Amusement gleamed in the human’s dark eyes as he fought back a smile. But after a moment, he did reach up to cup the side of Plo’s head in an affectionate caress as he stroked his thumb along the line of the Kel Dor’s leathery cheek. 

“But, considering you’ve met pretty much every member of my family, small though it might be, I suppose it is only fair I should meet yours one day.” Jango was the only official family he claimed though he’d claimed his Haat Mando'ade as his own as well. 

His biological family was no family of his and he would never expose Plo Koon to them.

“So yes, I suppose we are at the meeting one’s family stage in our relationship.” 

“I look forward to introducing you to them and my homeworld one day soon then.” 

[heizours]

A SECRET YOU CAN'T KEEP

summary. accidentally telling that you want to marry them one day

tags. gn! reader, grammatical mistakes may occur

cw. nothing but fluff, though lmk if there is

feat. ayato, childe, kaeya, diluc, thoma

AYATO.

Has already been thinking of marrying you, but kept quite about it 1/2

I think moments will come where Ayato will start to think that he really wants to be with you forever, and what i mean forever is he wants to marry you.

however he doesn't want the both of you to rush the talk of marriage, so I'm seeing him as a person who'll wait for your permission or will wait for you to bring the topic itself. Everyone expects him to get married as an obligation for a heir, but he sees it as a way to show how he's ready to take this relationship to another level.

You're not even aware that instead of doing what a yashiro commissioner should be, who knows he's probably sneaking away from inazuma to find you the beautiful ring in all of Teyvat.

It was night in Inazuma, as the only sounds making were the calm swirls of the wind. As the people sleep peacefully inside their homes, well for them but not for the head of Kamisato Clan who has been endlessly reading and signing papers.

As he heard the click of a door opening, he didn’t bother looking up. Not before it was you who entered it as you were crossing your arms like a parent planning to lecture their child for staying “late” at night even if it’s just 9:00 in the evening.

“Dear, I think it’s time for you to take a rest” you said, before letting out a sigh knowing that the blue haired man has a head that can rival a hard rock. You admire that he’s doing all this work for the sake of his family but sometimes a heir also needs time for himself, don’t you think?

“Hm? Beloved, I believe you should be resting at this time. Do not worry, I’m finishing this as soon as I can" he responded back with a hint of worry but also gentleness behind it as he continues to scribble.

The atmosphere between the two of you remained quiet after that short conversation. The longer you admire the man in front of you, the longer you felt as if your falling for him again, just like how you first met him.

The idea of marriage suddenly came into your mind about how you will be able to experience this moments repeating like a vinyl playing it’s music, as soon as the two of you are tied together.

You have sometimes imagine the life you will have with him after the two of you share your vows together, you weren’t that desperate okay? But sometimes people just have a common sense if their relationship with their lover will last until marriage or not, and you were people. As you were deep in your thoughts while admiring Ayato, you weren’t aware of the sentence that came out of your mouth.

“Have you ever thought if I will still be a part of your future?” you said, as the sudden noises of scribbling stopped and the quill pen Ayato was using, dropped to the ground.

To say that he was shocked to hear that from you was unexpected but the excitement and happiness he’s starting to feel that the both of you are having mutual feelings about this made it far from better.

He paused for a moment before lifting his head to look at you, and not long stood up from his seat before making his way to you.

The sudden realization, made you panic as you raised both of your arms in defense and was stuttering any reasons why you had said that.

“Uhm-...Wait that’s n-not what you thin-” you were cut off, when he suddenly bended down meeting you eye to eye, as his arms were placed on both the sides of the chair, trapping you.

“If you will still be a part of my future? Of course I had, perhaps....you’re proposing that you want to marry me then? Well, when do you wish to proceed my dear spouse?” he said, before grabbing your hand and placing a tender kiss on your knuckles as a promise he will make it true one day. After all he can’t also lie to himself at the thought of you getting tied to someone who’s not him.

The thought of marriage had also crossed Ayato’s mind countless times, and now that you had brought it in the table before him, it seems that the ring that has been planning to be very hidden in his desk will be used faster then he assumes.

CHILDE.

Has been overthinking of marrying you, so there’s a 50/50 chance he will take your words seriously. Accident or not, he will believe it .

As we all know childe is a family man, I mean we’ve seen it all considering that he has siblings and he loves and cares for all of them but with Childe's affiliation with the fatui and as a harbinger it can be quite dangerous.

The. thought about marriage will have to be postpone for a while since first he doesn’t want you to be in danger because of him, and second he wants to make sure if you’re really willing to face many challenges in the life of a married couple.

He loves you to the moon and back, and when the time comes you let your words get ahead of yourself, expect that he’s probably sending letters to his family soon that marriage is on the way.

The sun in Liyue slowly rises, and soon the townspeople were also beginning to start their own days. Some are opening their stalls, some are doing their daily errands and some are still in a deep peaceful slumber.

You and Childe were part of those population who are still sleeping in their beds.

It was rare for Childe to wake up very late in the morning, considering that he’s busy most of the time because of the work the Tsaritsa gives him. But it seems that today was an exception and he will make sure he is going to savor this early morning with you.

You were the first to wake up, and you find yourself sleeping in his chest. You looked up to see the ginger’s sleeping face, the slow rising up and down of his chest adding more to the ethereal beauty you are witnessing.

‘How can someone look this good while sleeping?’

Not that you were complaining about it, it just adds to the favoritism that you’re the only person who can see the mighty and bloodlust harbinger this calm and peaceful for once in a while.

You lift your hand, as it’s finger slowly approached his cheek that traced to his jawline and back again to cup his cheek, in which Childe subconsciously leaned onto the palm of your hand.

Letting out a quiet laugh at how cute he was acting, you weren’t even sure what’s happening in your mind right now. But before you can even have the chance to think about what you’re about to say, it had already went past your mouth.

“I will not complain if I’m going to marry you one day, if it means I’m going to see this face every day in the morning” you whispered.

Unknown to you, Childe being quite mischievous and playful as he is was actually pretending to be asleep the whole time, the moment you had woke up.

When you had subconsciously said those words right in front of him, he almost jumped out of the bed out of happiness, his heart started beating faster than normal and all he can think about was to propose to you then and there .

And before you can even have the chance to take back what you said, he snapped his eyes open.

“Really?? Are you for real? Do you mean that?” he asked, as his face came closer to you searching for any answer if it was a joke or it was real.

“I- y- yOU WERE AWAKE THE WHOLE TIME?” you yelled at his face, eyes wide like saucers and your cheeks dusted with light pink as he bombarded you question after question.

“Do you mean it?” he asked again, not planning to drop the situation.

Feeling embarrassed and flustered in your current state, you hesitantly let out a nod as you looked at anywhere but him. Childe who was staring at your reaction can’t help but also let out a blush as he lift your chin with two of his fingers before placing a soft kiss on the top of your nose.

“I’m glad were on the same page” he replied before hugging you in his arms.

If looks could shine brighter than the sun, well Childe’s mood that day could even rival the sun for days or even weeks. He even keep humming good tunes that it left his fatui agents scared yet suspicious at the same time.

KAEYA.

Would get shock because he isn’t expecting for someone to even consider marrying him.

Kaeya in his life had never thought of getting married, let it be even someone like you willing to be in a relationship with a person like him. If ever the thought of marriage comes across his mind, he wants the person to be you and you only.

He had been alone the most of his life, and you were that blessing the archons had given him so he certainly won't let go as amazing as you. Don't worry about your family's approval, I know damn well that they will love him so much and will be greatful for having him as their son in-law or a grandson in-law.

He's going to be lowkey desperate with the preparation of the proposal to the actual marriage especially with you in the line because he wants that day to be special.

Truth to be told, Kaeya wasn’t planning to continue hiding any longer.

But when he saw you having a conversation with Diluc that he can practically hear from far away, maybe eavesdropping a little on the conversation won't cause any harm.

It's not like he doesn't trust you wholeheartedly but Kaeya being Kaeya, he just wanted to see how do you talk about him when you're with other people especially with his dear brother.

"I don't see Kaeya as that type of person, but if it's with you then there's nothing you should be worried about [Name]" Diluc replied while his arms crossed, which was clearly heard by Kaeya.

The Cavalry Captain on the other hand was beyond confused by what he said especially when he had heard that you were being worried about something, something that includes about him.

'They won't- no they won't leave me or something like that, right?'

The more he thought about that, the more he's planning to just make his appearance known to the both of you but before any of that can happen, you spoked which caught again his attention.

"Well it's not like we've been together for a long time now, but sometimes I just can't help but think of what the future holds for him and I" you replied.

"But what's wrong with hoping we will get married someday, no?" you continued.

Kaeya.exe has stopped working.

Pardon? Did he hear that right? Or maybe he’s still a little tipsy from drinking wine earlier that he’s starting to hear things? Maybe Diluc was slightly right about limiting his hobby of drinking-

Nevertheless Kaeya returned to his usual composure before appearing behind you, a sly smirk appearing in his face but deep down his heart was beating fast and he was feeling mixed emotions about it, that he’s silently hoping you won’t noticed that his usual smirk was slowly falling apart with a genuine smile instead.

“Have you really fallen that hard, that you’re considering to marry me?” a smooth yet teasing voice appeared in the conversation you were having with Diluc, and archons forbid that the cunning blue haired man will forget this topic, or else he will always bring it up again and again, any chance he gets.

Reader.exe has stopped working 2.0

“huh- wai- kAEYA? hold on...if you were here the whole time then does that mean..” your words slowly trailed off, as you were still grasping the sudden situation.

‘oh god, what was i thinking? he probably thinks i’m assuming that we’re going to get married when we’re not even sure yet if this relationship will last long- aha the ground is looking very pretty to dive in right now-”

A pair of icy cold yet warm hands cupped your cheeks, snapping you out of your thoughts. Your head was raised and there you were, face to face with Kaeya who’s wearing the most serious expression you have ever seen.

“Well then sweetheart, if were going to get married then it’s you. If it’s not you, it’s not anyone” he spoked. There was a slight tint of blush appearing on his cheeks as he wrapped his arms around you, burying you in his chest to hide how flustered he is right now.

Well, it looks like he’s about to start the search for a ring now. A ring that’s only second to you.

Meanwhile Diluc, third wheeling the moment-

DILUC.

Has already been thinking of marrying you, but kept quite about it 2/2

When the relationship continues to progress and last for a long time to the point where the both of you are comfortable with each other, that's when he will realized that he wants to marry you. He would marry you because you're the person whom he can run to, the person whom he can share his past before he met you and the person who can see how vulnerable he can also be, hidden in the public eye.

I think he would prefer to be in a relationship with someone who will also be the same person he will marry in the future. He visions that in the future, he hopes that the person he will spend the rest of his life with is you.

He's probably thought about the exact date when's the wedding going to happen but kept quiet about it, he's maybe hesitating but he's got the spirit.

For once it was a casual day at the winery, and by casual it’s one of those rare day offs that Diluc takes from work and as bartender in the tavern. He sits there in one of the separate armchairs in the winery’s living room with a book in his hands that he has been reading for the past minutes.

Meanwhile, you were in the kitchen preparing for today’s lunch, you also gave the maids the opportunity to take a break from their work, as you’re going to handle the chores in the winery for the time being.

Diluc had already finished the book he was reading and he was starting to feel a little lonely without your presence near him, so without hesitation he stood up and made his way to where you are.

You, however failed to noticed the red haired man approaching you as you were too engrossed on making sure that you don’t burn the food you were cooking. A pair of arms were wrapped around your waist, startling you by pure accident.

Turning your head around, you found Diluc hugging you from behind with his chin placed on his shoulder as he looked at you before placing a peck on your cheek.

“What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be reading something?” you chuckled at his bold actions.

“Hm? I just finished doing that and I just want to be near you, that’s all” he mumbled, not long after he started swaying the both of your bodies slowly from side to side.

“Who knew that Master Diluc could also get this clingy?” you teasingly said so.

“You love it though” he replied as he swiftly turned you around and continued dancing with you, completely taking your attention away from the food you were cooking.

You wrap your hands around his neck, as he continued to hug you tighter, eyes closing and both of your foreheads continued to lean in to each other.

This are one of the moments that are barely displayed by the both of you in public, not that you both minded it.

Although as if your mind had controlled you on their own, you wondered how would it feel for this scenario to happen again if you were a married couple? You were too occupied with your thoughts that you began to speak, as if you're wanting for Diluc to hear it.

“Is it selfish of me to think that I have the chance to be your Mx. Ragnvindr?” you mumbled while your eyes remained closed, completely unaware of what had you just said.

Both of your eyes snapped open as Diluc stared at you with an evident shock on his face. You tried to create a reason to escape the situation you were in, but all you did was close and open your mouth like a fish, however you don’t even know how glad Diluc is to know that the ring he had purchased from Fontaine that was meant for you won’t go to another person’s finger.

“If you have the chance to be my spouse? Love, you don’t have to worry for that spot is yours to be claimed in the first place” he placed a hand on your cheek for assurance.

The romantic moment was interrupted when the both of you smelled something burning nearby. But if Diluc was being honest he could careless about it, he thinks he’s already full from the thought that you’re willing to get married to him.

Consent stage? done. Proposal? plan in progress.

THOMA.

The topic won’t stay out of his head for the following days, weeks or even months to the point he will be distracted.

Thoma knows what marriage is but the topic doesn’t always disturb him or his work. In fact he won’t be surprised anymore if the elderly will ask him again and again the same question “when are you getting married?” or “are you planning to settle down soon?”

It's not that he doesn’t want to but I think he’s that type of person who believes that the right time will come for him to get married and that also includes waiting for the same person whom he would see walking in the aisle.

50/50 chance that he will ask you instead when would you want for the both of you to be married, half of that is being a joke but if you’re bold enough to say you want it to be now, he’s going to crash.

Accompanying Thoma during his daily errands was always an adventure for the both of you. Not only that the both of you can finish it early before the day ends but it also gives the both of you to spend time with each other despite the busy schedule.

Currently the both of you were stopping by at the Komore Teahouse to rest and grab some tea, which means you can also see Taroumaru as well. It’s been a while since you last saw the ninja dog and because you love and adore animals especially dogs, it really means something to you.

Entering the teahouse, you didn’t waste a moment of grabbing the dog in your arms as Taroumaru didn’t make any complains about it. In fact the feeling is mutual between you and the animal.

Meanwhile Thoma watched the scene happening in front of his eyes, as he let out a laugh at how adorable the reunion looked in his perspective.

“Hey what about me? Didn’t you missed me?” he teased the said dog, opening his arms just in case.

Taroumaru jumped out of your arms before tackling Thoma to the ground which actually took him by surprise, and this time it was your turn to laugh as it was indeed an unexpected action from the dog.

‘he’s kind, helpful, very good at housekeeping, willing to protect you at any cost and loves animals. what else does this man have that others don’t?’

The thought made you genuinely smile as you question the archons how can you deserve such a man like him in your life. What more if he becomes your husband?

You shook your head at the thought but the longer you continued to stare at the them, the more the topic continues to bug you. What you thought was a whisper, had caught his attention in return.

“I wonder if we will plan to adopt a dog after we get married, sounds like the typical little family. Don’t you think?” you suddenly said.

He was frozen in his position after hearing those words from you, as a blush slowly began to rise on his face. At the sudden realization you slapped your mouth and jumped from the panic that you’re starting to feel, as he might thought you’re too busy in your own world that you had let out such things like that out of the blue.

You were too busy stuttering out unnecessary reasons that you hadn’t noticed Thoma was now facing you, with a serious yet determined look on his face.

“A-are you trying to tell me that you want to marry me one day? No no- it’s not that I’m disturbed by it. In fact it just gives me another reason why I should work hard, because that hard work will be needed for building our future” he genuinely replied as he took the both of your hands in his and placed a kiss on your forehead.

“I will be waiting for you to walk the aisle, my soon to be spouse” he continued as you placed your head on his chest to hide your flustered and blushing state, a quiet laugh passing by his lips to also hide the fact how excited he is for that day to come.

Did Taroumaru just witnessed an upcoming wedding? Yes, yes he did.

[drabblesaf]

Movie Night Frustration - Steve Harrington Smut

REQUESTED: Nope. I haven’t written for quite a while, and I had a sudden inspiration strike last night (especially after S4 P1 dropped).

WARNINGS: Oral (both receiving), “sir” kink - MINORS DNI PLEASE

SUMMARY: You and Steve are on the night shift at the video store - you’re trying to do work and catch up on the week’s missed jobs, but Steve gets bored easily and needs something more than videos to entertain him. 

NOTES: Uh, hey. So, I’m kind of back? 

Maybe. I’m not sure yet. I’ve been really busy with uni for the past few years (in case you couldn’t tell from my utter lack of posting here) and now I’ve finished everything, I wanted to try and get back into my writing.

May be a bit rusty, so bare with me. I had inspo strike from the new season of Stranger Things, so here we are.

Hope you enjoy guys <3

Working the night shift at the Family Video Store was not how I originally planned on spending this evening. Sure, the pay was good for night shift, I couldn’t fault that. And any of the stock of candy we had left over was pretty much free rein until the next day’s batch came in - even more so once we hit the end of the week and needed to start clearing everything out. Those two things were no problem to me at all. The problem? Steve Harrington.

Steve had changed a lot since his time at Hawkins High. No longer a complete fucking asshat, he’d actually matured into a guy who gave somewhat of a shit. Shocking for the King of Hawkins to have such a redemption arc behind him. Maybe it was the fact he kept hanging out with the kids from sophomore year, Dustin, Mike and Lucas. Maybe it’s because my coworker Robin had actually knocked some sense into his pretty little head. Or maybe…just maybe, Steve was actually thinking seriously about his future and realising that he couldn’t be a dick forever.

Whatever it was, it still didn’t seem to occur to him that he could do his job without picking up chicks at the store - although maybe that was the same case for me too with guys. Somehow, Hawkins still had enough of a single male population that seemed to want to try their luck with the cute girls behind the movie counter, which always ended in Robin giving a heavy eyeroll and me gaining some dude’s home phone number or a reminder that they’d “pick me up at whatever time and we could go find a place to get away from it all”…which would almost always end in them wanting to go to Lovers Lake or Skull Rock, and Steve or Robin covering for me while I camped out in the staff room.

Surprisingly enough, this often worked quite well - I guess the boys were intimidated by my coworkers enough to eventually skulk out of the store, never to return again. This tactic didn’t work on the girls though, but then again, Harrington never seemed to have enough game to be able to woo them. Which is where he was stuck on this particular evening, moping as he stood next to the counter counting out the change in the register. “What’s got you so down in the dumps?” I said, staring at him from across one of the aisles, brush in hand.

“I’m losing my spark, Y/N. Losing my magic touch,” he sighed, idly playing with a cent in his hands.

“What makes you say that?”

“Have you seen the chicks that come in here? None of them are interested in me offering to take them to see the latest films in the cinema. Not a single one.”

“Have you tried just being yourself and not putting the charm offensive on all the time?” I asked, crouching down to remove the DVDs from the bottom shelf so they could get wiped down (those ones in particular always seemed to get some sort of sticky residue on them, and we could never quite explain why).

“Girls don’t like me “being myself”, (Y/N). Unless myself is King Steve, they don’t want to know me.”

“That’s not true, and you know it, Harrington,” I sighed, shaking my head as I carried the DVDs over to the desk, where he was now stood with his head in his hands. I reached over and ruffled his hair slightly, causing him to look up and give me a playful glare.

“Hey, leave the hair out of this,” he chuckled, poking his tongue out at me, before pausing and flicking his tongue over his bottom lip. He did this from time to time, but this time something felt…different. “(Y/N), what do you mean, I know it?” His brown eyes bore into my own, and I felt a shift, as if the world had just had a mass earthquake.

“You should be able to guess, Steve - you’re smart enough after all”, I said, voice wavering slightly. I wasn’t wrong, Steve was in fact very smart - after Nancy and him had split up, he actually put in a decent amount of effort to get his grades back up so he could get through sophomore year without too many issues, which - much to his surprise - he did very well, passing the year with 85% overall. And despite his general act as the King of Hawkins High, he could pick up on social cues well and did try to keep people around him who weren’t…douchebags, for lack of a better term.

He stared at me, raising an eyebrow, and I turned away quickly, busying myself with sweeping the dust off the (now free) bottom shelf. In a sense, there was definitely something that had shifted in the air between us, and it had been something I had been reckoning with for a while now. I’m not sure what it was, but there had definitely been moments between Steve and I that had left me questioning what his motives were every damn time. Did he want something to happen as much as I did?

The night wore on, and we were both beginning to get tired of doing all the chores that needed to be done over the night shift, especially closing up shop. We closed up early on the weekends, purely because most people were out partying or had already decided on what films they wanted for the evening - there wasn’t much chance of any late buyers coming in at the last minute unless it was Valentines Day. I occupied myself with finishing up rearranging the movies on the shelves, while Steve scribbled away in the notebook we had for accounting. “Hey, (Y/N), could you give me a hand? Just want to make sure I have everything accounted for in this, and that I did the math correctly,” he said, and I stood up from the final shelf, dusting my hands off on my jeans.

“Sure, I can do that. Final shelf is good to go, by the way,” I said, walking over to him. I could feel his eyes burning into me as I walked over, shedding my over-fleece that I wore as uniform (since the shop was closed now, there wasn’t much point in keeping it on). I chucked it under the till and pulled up a stool next to Steve, running over the numbers and trying to do quick calculations in my mind. All the while though, I could feel his presence right next to me, as if he was wanting to do or say something. After about 5 minutes of thinking over the sums, I nodded. “All clear, everything’s good to go,” I said, looking up at him. He swallowed slightly, his tongue flicking over his lips again as his eyes moved over my face.

The air got thicker all of a sudden, and it felt like something could happen any moment. “Uh, (Y/N), have you…” he started, and I paused, dropping the pencil to the table in front. He shook his head, mumbling a quick “Fuck it,” before crashing his lips onto mine. The kiss was needy, feverish - almost like it was something he depended on, like a lifeline. His lips and mine moved effortlessly against one another, tongues darting in and out and battling out in a war of dominance. His hands began roaming over my body, holding me steady on the stool as the exploration took place. This was a side I hadn’t expected from him, but I let it happen, moving my hands up to his hair as I did so. 

His lips began moving down from mine to my jaw, trailing their way down to the collar of my shirt - this caused him to pause momentarily, both of us gasping for air as he looked at me, moving a hand up to caress my face gently. I nodded, giving him the permission he sought to take my shirt off, leaving me in my bra and jeans. He resumed his prior actions, lips trailing down my collarbone to one breast, then another. Each of them had kisses pressed to them, before the bra itself was gently pulled down and his lips attached themselves to each nipple, sucking and biting on each one and causing small whimpers to fall from my mouth.

This only seemed to spur him on, and made him suck each nipple more feverishly as if it was his lifeline. Soon after, he realised other areas needed attention too, and his kisses moved further and further down my body until they hovered just above the waistband of my jeans. He looked up at me, and I nodded. “Please, Steve,” I mumbled quietly, and he licked his lips again, turning his attention to the button on my jeans, which he popped open deftly before helping me shimmy the material off my hips. 

He gave a few tentative kisses over my panties, causing some light moans to fall from my mouth, before that material was removed too and nothing was in the way of his tongue. He kissed the area lightly, before licking at it, causing my hips to raise up sharply to meet his mouth, and my hand to fall into his hair. Every single action he made had my body feeling like it was on fire, and very quickly I could feel myself reaching the high I was craving. He was licking and sucking at the area as if it was his entire life force, and it was very quickly getting me to where I needed to be. “Steve, fuck!” I whimpered, my hands tugging at his hair as he moved quicker, bringing a finger into play as well and curling it up right where I needed it. That was enough to bring me over the edge, causing me to scream and gasp as I met the high he’d been trying to elicit from me for so long. He kept lapping at my arousal as wave after wave of pleasure ran through my body, causing me to tremble at every slight touch he created.

After a while I calmed down enough and the room stabilised for a short while, for me to begin to realise that Steve was unbuckling his belt and beginning to remove his jeans. Shakily, I stood up, placing my hands over his and hoping he understood that I wanted to help him. He looked at me as I did this, and said quietly, “You don’t have to, y’know.”

“I want to.” He thought about this for a second and then nodded, allowing me access to the button on his jeans completely. I carefully popped it open, taking my time with the zipper - I wanted to at least try to savour this moment before it went away and we were forced into that pit of realisation of what we were doing with each other. He sighed slightly, bucking his hips up as I pulled his jeans down, looking face to face at his hard-on restrained by his boxers. It was straining to be let out against the cotton, and I could only oblige, causing a hiss to fall from his lips as he was exposed to the air of the store.

I expected him to be packing down there - he was “The King” of Hawkins High, after all - but I didn’t expect him to be bigger than I thought. I cautiously grasped at his cock, causing him to let out a jagged moan and his hand to fall over mine. “Fucking hell, (Y/N). Do you know how much I’ve imagined this scenario?” He grunted, helping to move my hand along his length.

“No, but I could probably guess,” I snarked back, before diverting my attention back to the matter in hand…quite literally. Tentatively, I poked my tongue out and licked a stripe up one of the protruding veins on his member, causing him to groan loudly, the noise only encouraging me further. I licked a few more times before turning my attention to his head, eliciting a louder moan from his lips, followed by several curses. 

“Fuck, so pretty…you’re doing so good sweetheart,” he sighed, hand falling away from mine and slowly coming back up to push my hair out my face, causing me to look up at him as he did so. His lips were slightly parted, and he was looking down at me through his eyelashes, eyes flickering as I looked up with his cock in my mouth. “Shit…so good, fuck. You’re killing me, doll.”

This was the only motivation I needed to keep on with what I was doing, and so I took him further into my mouth, bobbing my head up and down vigorously. It was difficult to keep this up for too long at a time though, purely because he was so damn big - but Steve seemed fine with anything I did as long as I was giving his dick enough attention. Soon, he began to twitch slightly in my mouth, his moans getting louder and his breathing quickening, to which he quickly pulled me off of him with a satisfying pop! He stood up over me kneeling on the floor, jerking his cock vigorously. “Where do you want it angel? Want me to cum in your mouth like the good slut you are? Say it, come on. Tell me, baby.”

“Please cum in my mouth, I’ll take it all in,” I whined - this act alone only served to encourage Steve further. 

“Want you to beg for it properly,” he muttered under his breath, and it took a moment before the gears finally clicked in my head.

“Please, Sir. I want to swallow your cum like the good princess I am for you,” I moaned, feeling myself begin to dampen again. This seemed to work, as barely a minute later the man above me was moaning loudly himself as he reached his own climax, the hot spurts of cum streaming down my throat. As soon as he had finished, I swallowed, opening my mouth to show him that nothing remained in there.

We took a moment to both catch our breath from the experience, and he was the first one to speak. “I think I’ve got my magic touch back, but do you wanna test that theory back at my place?”

“You’re on, Harrington.”

“Hey, that’s Sir to you, princess.”

[astroboots]

SOFT AND HARD

Summary: Frankie wants to give up control to you.

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content: Explicit NSFW Smut, pre-established relationship, restraints, light fem-dom, angsty-ish (but for me it's vanilla grade), insomnia, sex toys of all kinds, anxiety, edging, delayed orgasm, anal play, sub-Frankie (kind of?).

Word Count: 4.6K

Astroboot’s Masterlist

Frankie is a man of contradictions. 

He’s the softest man you know. From the soft way you catch him looking at you under the warm cupboard lights of your kitchen when he’s doing the dishes to the soft curve of his belly hidden underneath worn out flannels and cotton shirts. 

Soft in the way he will murmur ‘come on baby’ to your shitty old Volvo as if it’s a precious lover when it refuses to start in the morning. 

But for the softness in his every action with you, there is an equal and opposite force within that he tries to hide from you. There is a hardness in him more impenetrable than pressurized steel. Tom had once told you early on in your relationship (when the man had had three beers too many) that Frankie is lethal. Frankie is the kind of soldier who will not hesitate to pull a trigger and end the life of another human being if it means keeping those he cares about safe. 

That very same man is also a man who is so anxious about making mistakes to the point that it consumes him. The simplest mistake will have him honing and testing and repeating the same tasks he failed at over and over and again until he feels confident that the same mistake will never happen again. For a man that is so ridiculously intelligent, that crippling self doubt can render him catatonic. The past eats away at him that it never occurs to him he has now become the most qualified person in the room. He is always trapped in the shadow of a less competent version of himself. 

After all these years together, you’ve learned his tells. It’s why you know something is wrong this morning when you sit at the breakfast table across from him and see him making and releasing a tight fist with his large hands on top of his knees, in the same pace that his jaw clenches and unclenches. 

You run your fingers over the face of his hand. Slowly, his fingers unfurl, the tension going out of them and flattens over his thigh as he looks up to you with a warm gaze. There he is. 

“Did something happen at work,” you ask, direct but firm seems to always do the trick with Frankie. And sure enough it seems to be the winner this time as well. 

Frankie’s tongue peeks out and swipes over his bottom lip, hesitating a second before he spills. 

“The latest helicopter models they had me test didn’t perform like we expected them to. Something went wrong and I didn’t think I was gonna be able to land it.” 

“Are you okay? Was anyone hurt?”

He shakes his head, a small smile to reassure you, but it’s strained at best and pained at its worst. You can tell he’s forcing himself. “No, I got control of it. Everyone’s fine. I just—” 

The words trail to a stop. He doesn’t even finish his sentence before he stares down into his cup. “It’s nothing,” he smiles sheepishly to reassure you. 

It goes without saying that it’s clearly not, nothing. But you also know that forcing Frankie to speak when he’s not ready is more pointless than Sysiphys rolling a boulder up that hill. So you let it slide. 

But as you continue to talk over breakfast, those very same hands repeatedly smooth over his jeans like he’s trying to rub the denim out of them. When he catches your eyes on them, he stuffs them in his pockets only to take them out again a few seconds later, then do it all over again. 

It could be nothing. Just a long day at work. But you have been together for so long that you can pick up the tell tale signs of the looming anxiety spiral. 

Sometimes it is as simple as letting him take a restful nap in your arms, legs intertwined as you stroke the soft strands of his hair. He will wrap his arms firmly around you to him as an anchor to keep him there as if he’s terrified some unseen forces that you’re not privy to are going to drag him away. And most of the time that is enough. The gentle firm reassurance that he is home, safe. 

There are other times though, when all the gentle reassurance or professional therapy in the world doesn’t make a dent. 

Frankie spends most of the day hiding away in the garage from you. It’s a way for him to cope, to tinker with something or the other in that space, to have his mind concentrate until his whole world narrows down to the sole task of fixing an object. 

You leave him to it at first, because space is healthy. Frankie needs to know that he has a space to escape to if needed. But by the time the last of the Florida sun has set, when evening turns into midnight, and he still hasn’t come upstairs into the bedroom as the clock nears 2am you decide that enough is enough. 

The garage is dimmed, the only light by his workbench to cast light on his project. His back is hunched over, tense and wired. Even from this distance you can sense the agitated nerves radiate from his knotted shoulder. 

“Baby come to bed it’s late,” you tell him, curt and clipped.

He drops the tools he was holding at your voice, turning around, but he doesn’t get up from his position. “Sorry, time got away from me.” 

You can tell from the way his fingers are fidgeting that he’s itching to place his hands back on the tools if you’d let him. Hell, if you’d let him he’d keep at it until the break of dawn and beyond until he’d collapse over the wooden surface. 

You don’t let him. Instead you stretch out your hand to him, and at that he finally relents, takes your hand in his as you lead him back into the house and upstairs. 

Whatever happened in the helicopter, whatever he hasn’t told you what you know is this: that something went wrong and in that moment of destruction and panic he reacted to the chaos with immeasurable composure. Even as everything else fell apart around him, he took control of the situation. 

That is the real reason he’s spiralling. Not because things ended badly, not because he fucked up, but because he had to be in command and make the decision that no one else wanted to. 

And now in the aftermath of it, when the adrenaline has left his buzzing veins—he hates the fact that that person came out. This is a man who is terrified of what he's capable of if pushed into a hard corner. He is soft because he is trying to make up for the man he fears deep down he is. Today was a reminder of that. 

He sits on the edge of the bed, with hesitation etched into his handsome features. Eyebrows pinched together with worry, soft lips pulled into a tight line. Even without words, you can practically hear the high pitched grinding in his head, not allowing him a moment of silence. You know that if this keeps going, even if you force him to lie down with you, it will be absolute torture for him as he stares up into the darkened ceiling trapped with his own thoughts. 

Your hands come to his face, cupping his cheeks until that faraway blank stare in his eyes focuses and is making contact with you. The moment it does he gives you a sheepish smile that’s almost apologetic for not being present. 

“Tell me what you need, baby. Use your words.” 

You’ve been here before. This isn’t your first rodeo. When it’s gotten to this point, the only way for him to quiet that chaotic screaming in his head is to let go and have you take the reins. Sometimes Frankie needs you to take the control away from him and you’re more than happy to do that for him. But the deal between the two of you is that he has to ask. 

He swallows, giving you a tentative nod. “I—I want you to be in control tonight.” 

“Okay. I can do that for you.”

Your fingers come to his chest, unbuttoning his shirt for him, because you see his hands shaking against the quilts, practically vibrating off the bed. You lift off the shirt from his head, helping him with his pants that follow suit until he’s naked before you. 

His eyes flicker downwards to where his hands are still clenching and unclenching as if he doesn’t know what to do with them, trying to self-soothe but only working himself up further. You feel for him, your sweet husband, the difficulty of choosing something as simple as where to place his hands is enough to send him spiralling. So you are going to give him what he needs, take away all options from him. 

“I’m going to use the restraints,” you tell him. 

His response is a sharp inhale of breath, followed by a quick nod and that’s all you need before you lean over to the night bed stand. There’s a soft line of thick cotton rope you keep in the drawer for this. Strong enough that even Frankie would struggle if he tried to break free (which he never does) but soft enough that it isn’t intended to hurt him. 

You pull out the rope laying it out on the mattress next to him for him to see and you know from the way his pupils blow wide with darkened anticipation that he needs this. 

Need someone to render him harmless and take everything from him. To be stripped of command and have someone else make all the decisions. Except, it’s not just someone or anyone. There are few people in the whole wide world that Frankie would trust enough to give up control for. On bad days like this, control is not something he dares to surrender even to himself. But he’s entrusted you with it and you care for it like the precious gift it is. You take it and pour it back inside of him and make him feel worthy again.

“On your knees baby,” you tell him and  he doesn’t hesitate to follow your instructions, pushing himself up to kneel before you as he sits obediently. There’s no awkwardness in his movements, he doesn’t trip himself as he heed your orders, just carries them out as commanded. 

“Give me your hands.” 

And again, he obeys, without protest or a hint of hesitation. For a man with so much doubt embedded in him, once you give him an order to follow, he becomes remarkably capable so long as he has a purpose. 

This is why, even though it has always struck you as odd that a man as highly emotionally intelligent as Frankie, who can think for himself, would be drawn to the army. It’s because he likes to take orders.

He feels his best, when someone tells him what to do so he doesn’t have to listen to his own conflicted thoughts that are screaming at him in all directions. Never has to question in retrospect with his 20/20 hindsight if what he did was right or wrong. Never has to feel the weight and burden of the decisions he made that taps into something dark and unwanted in himself that he hates.

You wrap the cords around his hands and there’s no resistance as you take his wrist, tightening the loop until they are steadfastly tied. Running a finger beneath the rope and his wrist, you make sure that it’s not too tight to cut into the blood flow, because you know from past experience that Frankie wouldn’t tell you if it did. Too caught up in following your instructions that the concept of pain seems to cease to exist for him. 

“Scoot up the bed, Frankie.”

Still on his knees, he backs himself up against the headboard of the bed, then looks up at you with expectant eyes, seeking for your approval. 

His arms are tied behind his back, back rigid. The line of his neck is strained like he is concentrating very hard to remember to breathe. His cheeks are flushed with an endearing pink you cannot look away from and his cock is laying between his legs, begging for your attention. You can see it thickening by the second, until a clear line of precome runs down the hardened length. It strikes you again the vulnerability in this position that he has allowed himself to be in for you. 

And that’s a lovely look on him. 

“Yeah, that’s good baby. Just like that,” you confirm, and while he doesn’t move from the spot, while his facial expression barely changes, there’s something in his eyes that melts at the praise from you.  

You crawl closer to him, until he is within reach, until you can almost hear the frantic beat of his heart and the anticipation for you to touch him. 

“You’re always so eager aren’t you Frankie. Look at you, you’re making a mess already and I’ve barely touched you.” 

He answers not with words, but a quiet groan. The sound of it is a soft strangely sweet little thing. Tempts you to dip your index finger to the slit of his cock, smearing the thick fluid you find there. When you do, his groan melts into the sound of faint whine. 

And that’s always such a good sound, fuck it could very well be your favourite sound in the world. 

You smooth your palm over the velvety skin, marvel at how responsive Frankie is to that barely there touch as his cock jumps and twitches towards you. 

Frankie has a beautiful cock. Not just the size of him, which is more than generous to say the least. But the perfect girth of him, how pretty it looks as it juts proud and eager against his stomach. And maybe you’re biased because he’s your husband and you love him, but it’s flushed with a fascinating shade of pink that nearly mesmerizes you, as it shines under the soft amber of your bedroom, glistening with the precome that is steadily flowing there. 

You bend down to take him into your mouth, until the satisfying taste of salt and something unnameable, that is distinctly Frankie, reaches the tip of your tongue. 

It’s a familiar dance you can do with your eyes closed. Know every ample inch of him, as you lick the length of him, hand covering what your mouth can’t reach. With the languid pace you have set for yourself, you draw out his pleasure to draw him out of his mind, to ground him in the physical sensations of being right here in the present with you. 

You grip his length, squeezing with a practiced fluid motion of your hand. Long indulgent strokes that have his thighs trembling and raw as he resists the need to roll his hips into your hand to meet every movement. Tongue teasingly flickering out at each stroke to lick over the slickened head, lapping up every drop he has to give you.

Above you, Frankie has been reduced to gasps and choked out moans, the telltale sign that all that lovely intelligence in his brain has flown the coop. There are no brain-cells left capable of thought besides registering the wetness of your mouth and tongue around him, the slickness of your hands and fingers on his cock. 

Normally when he’s like this, he is not even capable of forming syllables, much less words. So it comes as a surprise, when he calls your name, not once but twice, with a plea in his voice, and if he is still coherent enough to do that, then this isn’t enough.  

“Baby, please, more. I—I need...” his words trail off as if he can’t quite find what he’s looking for. Not entirely sure himself what he is asking for and what ‘more’ is. 

The thing is, you can easily do that, give him more. More than happy to give him your mouth and your hands on his cock and even your fingers inside him, until you have him coming so hard his voice goes raw with it. But it’s not going to be enough for tonight and you both know it. 

You pull away from him, and impatient as ever he groans softly, hips rolling in a pleading motion when he’s unable to use his hands to pull you back to him. 

“Lie down on your back baby,” you instruct him. 

There’s hints of a pout on those full lips, but nevertheless he does as he’s told, sitting back against the mattress as his back slumps against the headboard and scoots down until he’s on his back, the movement made a bit more awkward than usual with his arms restrained that he rests above his head.

Satisfied, you lean over towards your nightstand, opening the lowest drawer. It doesn’t take you long to find what you are looking for, and as soon as Frankie sees the familiar items in your hand his eyes go wide, tongue peeking out of his already flushed lips with heat and anticipation burning in his gaze. 

Then, you lay them down on the mattress before you in a neat tidy line; lube, your vibrating wand and a plug. 

Reaching for the bottle of lube, you squeeze down on the bottle,  onto the palm of your hand, feeling the slick ooze of it drip down your fingers. Then slowly, you trail your knuckles against the surprisingly soft skin from his perineum to his entrance, lightly teasing the puckered whole that clenches tight at the touch, and from above you, you can hear Frankie’s breath whined and pitched—trying hard to hold his breath and failing, as you gently press your finger into him. 

Your finger curls and coaxes against that soft spot that has his whole body jolting into you, until you’re pressing deeper and more insistently against that sole perfect spot that has him keening in a gorgeously pitched voice as his whole back arches against you. 

“How does that feel Frankie,” you ask, practically crooning as you feel him clamp around your finger. 

“Fuckfuck, querida, I—fuck, it feels so good, I’m—I”

It wouldn’t take much longer, if you kept going like this, Frankie could easily come like this, untouched. Even without your hand or mouth touching his cock. 

You hush him, a soothing tone meant to calm him. To keep him off the ledge that he’s quickly going to be careening over. And while as much as you would love to see him fall apart for you from that bare touch alone, that wouldn’t be enough. His mind is still halfway, straddling between his crowded mind and the sensation of your finger in him. You want more than that, want to dismantle him piece for piece, until he is entirely incoherent. Until he can’t form a single rational thought. You slip your finger out of him, and it’s almost endearing the small soft whimper that leaves him as you do. 

Reaching for the plug, you coat it generously with the lube you keep on the nightstand, before you bring it back to his entrance, testing and teasing, with a gentle nudge there. You want to give some kind of physical sensation that he won’t be able  to ignore, that keeps him right here with you, out of reach of his own thoughts. His stomach jumps, fingers flexing against his restraints, like he wants to hold onto something, anything—to keep himself grounded. Then you notch the tip against the opening and steadily push inside of him. 

He inhales with a sharp hiss as the first ring of muscles gives resistance. White teeth sinking into his bottom lip until it becomes tender and swollen.

“Deep breaths, Frankie. Relax.” 

He gives you a dutiful nod in response, taking a deep breath that makes his chest slowly rise and falls, and then you can feel the hard tension in him melt into something softer until the resistance cedes, allowing you to penetrate him fully, sinking the plug into him fully with a snug fit. 

“That feels good, doesn't it, Frankie? To be filled up like this? I'm going to make it feel even better. Going to make you come so hard that big brain of yours can't think anymore. That's what you need, isn't it, baby?” 

Your hand is a slick slide over the length of his cock, drawing it towards you until your fingers are curled around the sensitive tip. Then you let go of his cock, letting the heavy weight of it spring back and slap against the softness of his stomach to the sound of his pained whine. 

You let him wait for you, let him stay in that movement until you can see his eyes turn that perfect shade of hunger and need, before you wrap your hands back around him then draw him to your mouth with a gentle suck. 

His wrists are cutting against the rope. It must hurt him, the way he’s twisting his hands against the restraints until the ropes dig into his flesh, until the pink bleeds into a bonepale white. 

It’s followed by another tug against the restraints, hips bucking off the bed and you pull your lips off of him, despite the protesting pitch that erupts from his throat. You push him back down against the mattress with your hands on the hollow of his hips. 

“Stop.”

At your command he stills. His eyes flicker to yours, wide and dazed with a look that tells you he’s lost. 

Anchoring your elbows to the mattress, you push yourself up into a seating position, straddling his thighs so that you have his full attention. 

“Frankie,” you grab his jaw in your hand, tilting his face up to yours. His eyes are glossy, gorgeous pleading browns that so badly want to please you. If it wasn’t for the fact that you knew he needed this: needed you to tear him open and pour him out, not give into him, then you’d be doing exactly that when you see the helpless look of him. To lean over and kiss him for comfort, slide his cock inside your mouth and let him come. 

“Francisco,” you repeat, gentler now. This time he looks straight at you, with more focus, if only marginally. “Be good.” 

The man moans at your commanding tone, cock twitching in your hand and the runaway precome steadily drips down the side of your hand. “Can you do that for me?”

There's silence. Not quite hesitancy, excitement would be more accurate. His tongue swipes over the swell of his bottom lip before he gives you a nod. 

“I need you to use your words sweetie.”

“Fuck—baby. I— y-yes I can be good.”

You can’t help but smile, flattening your palms on his broad and firm chest, as you bend over to trace your tongue over the same path over his lip that his tongue had taken moments earlier. 

“Good boy.” Your fingers fumble behind you, until you feel the smooth silicone in your hand and click it alive with a bright hum sounding out, then you reward him with a deep press of the vibrator against his hardened length. 

The sound that wrenches out of him is nearly inhuman, a groan and a cry all at once, as his hips thrusts into your hand. 

Still he stays good for you, even as you move the toy upwards, trailing it across the slicked overwrought tip of his cock, pressing the blunt vibrating edge against the slit of his head. He doesn’t protest, doesn’t say a word besides a bitten off grunt. 

The only change in expression is how tense his jaw is, the muscle there ticking and jumping, teeth gritted, with enough strength to grind down the molars that only the dust of them remains if you left him at it. 

And you know how close he is—can see the starling shade of angry pink of his cock flushed so deep that it borders on red. See the strained chord of his neck as he bares the long beautiful line of his throat and presents it to you with all of its vulnerability as he’s chasing his high, waiting to snap the second that you instruct him he’s allowed to. 

Barely hanging on by that gorgeous thread of a line. 

His eyes roll back in his head, until you see the whites. “Fuckshit, baby I—I don’t know if I can—” 

“Of course you can baby,” you say, cutting him off.  

His moan trails off into something suppressed, a strangled whimper. It’s such a beautiful fucking sound. It fills you and consumes you, until all you can think of—all you want— is to pluck that sound out of him, again and again. 

You’re almost so distracted by it that you miss the way that his eyes are squeezed tightly shut, trying to distract himself—retreat back into his mind and thoughts—in order to stave off his orgasm. 

And that is not what tonight is about.  

“Eyes on me Frankie,” you order.  But his eyes are still shut, eyelids fluttering, like he’s struggling to do as you tell him. 

Twisting your fingers into those soft curls, you tug him upwards until his gaze has to be aligned with yours. “You stay here with me.” 

Your tone is clipped and stern, your grip on his hair firm, not cruel or goading, not degrading, that’s not the goal here. He just needs to be more than physically present. You need to make sure that he’s here, with you, not stuck in his head. You won’t let that happen. 

With your free hand you reach down between his firm thighs, you push the end of the plug against him, angling it until you find the spot, just right, until his hips are trembling and spasming, not bucking or thrusting towards you, because you have told him not to—and Frankie is trying so hard to stay good. 

“Fuck Querida, I can’t—I’m gonna come baby, I’m gonna come.”

“It’s okay baby, it’s okay. Just a little bit longer. Want you to hold off for me. You can do that. I know you can.”

And he does, he’s so good, your Frankie. He holds on. Doesn’t come. 

Even as you can tell that his sanity is melting, and pulling away from him. Even as the sweat-slicked muscles on his golden-toned arms are flexing and spasming, thrumming with the sheer effort to not move or tear himself from the restraints. Even as his cock is a twitching, slick mess against his stomach, precome freely flowing down his length until it drips and blends into a wet soaked spot on the sheets underneath him. 

“Almost there Frankie, I promise. Be good. Just a little bit more,” you coo, fingertips gently massaging the oversensitive head of his cock as precome and lube mix and drips freely over your fingers. 

His hair curls around his forehead, damp and sweaty, the vulnerable pupils blown pitch dark and bare for you, until you can see for yourself that right now— there is nothing, not a single thought in Frankie’s mind, no doubt, no anxiety, no screaming thoughts or even a gentle chattering in his head—the only thing that remains is the single animalistic need to have his release. 

And that is good, and that is enough, it is everything you want for him and you both. 

“Come for me Francisco.”

And as always when you order Frankie to do anything for you, he does. 

Dedication: All my words fail me except that you're my favourite person and I love you the MOST @thirstworldproblemss that is all.

A/N: A forgotten WIP that according to Google docs I wrote in October 2021 and never posted. Since I'm on hiatus at the moment I thought there was no greater time than now to post since I have nothing new to offer you on my plate.

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