#ok gotta stop angsting over the wording of these

[cowherderess]

Tagged by @kittensittin @dee-thequeenbee @waywardted - thank you friends! 😊 tagging @thatsrightjohngoodman @boglady @sunflowerromcom and anyone else who hasn't done it yet and wants to!

Rules: Pick a bunch of your WIPs and summarize them as badly as possible, then ask your followers to vote on which one they’d be most likely to read. Multiple/all/none options are completely optional.

[itadorey]

𝐡𝐚𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐞— gojo satoru

pairing: gojo satoru x reader summary: even after you leave the jujutsu world behind, gojo satoru finds himself unable to get over you. genre: fluff! some angst but happy ending, friends to lovers notes: inspired by the song "haunt me (x3)" by teen suicide, gojo is awful at realizing his own feelings and dealing with them wc: ~4.8k

the day that you leave tokyo jujutsu tech is a dull one.

gojo think this must've been months in the planning, especially considering the fact that you're standing with nothing but a backpack slung over your shoulder with the rest of your belongings nowhere to be seen.

(he later learns that they had already been moved to your new apartment, and nanami and shoko had helped you move out over the course of a month.)

he also discovers that he's the only one that hasn't been informed of your departure, especially since he seems to be the only one taken by surprise as you stand by the entrance and say your goodbyes. he wonders if it's his fault for taking so many missions after geto's defection, and he feels his stomach lurch uncomfortably when he realizes that he's been so distracted that he once again couldn't see something happening with one of his friends.

and now you're leaving.

"you have to promise to visit," shoko says, engulfing you in a tight hug. gojo feels his mouth run dry at the sight, and he can't help but feel panicked when you give shoko a soft grin.

"i'll certainly do my best," you respond, reaching over to tug on her hair. she sighs in return, grabbing you by the shoulders and shaking you gently as she stares you down.

"answer your phone, ok? you can't ignore my texts now that you're leaving."

a quiet laugh leaves your lips at her words, and you nod reassuringly before giving her a loud smooch on the cheek and moving down the line. gojo watches you closely as you say your goodbye to yaga, the older man turning away from you to brush a fake tear away from his eye. he presses a soft, floppy doll into your hands before you move away from him, and gojo can see the distinct shine in your eye that lets him know that you're holding tears at bay.

he looks down at the ground when he realizes that he's the only one left for you to say goodbye to, and he can't help the way he tenses up when he sees your shoes come to a stop in front of him. there's a moment of silence during which gojo can feel everyone's eyes on him, and he begrudgingly looks up at you and removes his sunglasses.

if this is the last time he's seeing you, he's going to make sure he remembers every little detail.

there's a sharp intake of breath as you steadily meet his gaze, and you find yourself rendered speechless at the sight of his eyes. gojo can hear shoko cough lightly, and he steels himself before giving you a forced smile.

"so you're leaving," he whispers, his eyes widening slightly when he realizes what he's just said. you seem to be caught off guard as well, eyebrows raising in surprise before giving him a nod. he takes a moment to breathe, aware of shoko's lingering gaze as the two of you face each other. "oh. i didn't know."

"yeah," you breathe, rubbing your arm as you look away from him. "i hadn't gotten the chance to tell you. it seems like you're always off on a mission these days."

"you could've texted," gojo attempts to say jokingly, wincing when his words fall flat. you laugh lightly at his words, recognizing the teasing undertone even if the delivery had been less than perfect. you always seem to understand gojo, regardless of whether or not he wants you to.

"we both know you never look at your phone," you tease back, giving him a pretty smile that he hasn't seen in a while. he chuckles breathlessly at your jab, and he nods his agreement before glancing at shoko.

"neither do you," he shoots back, the corners of his lips turning up into a small smile when you follow his line of sight. "you gotta get better at that. can't risk pissing shoko off."

the space between the two of you is filled with uncertain laughter at gojo's remark, and you take a moment to study gojo before taking a step forward and wrapping your arms around his neck. he stumbles back a step or two at your sudden action, tensing up when you tuck your face into the crook of his neck.

"i'll miss you," you whisper, your breath warm against his neck. he tries to ignore the goosebumps that rise up along the smooth expanse of his neck, too focused on wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer to him when he feels you start to step away.

gojo knows that everyone else is watching the two of you, he can feel shoko's soft gaze and yaga's sad look as he does his best to ignore them and bury his face into your hair. there's an intense urge to ask you to stay building up inside of him, and he clamps his lips shut tightly in order to keep himself from blurting out his plea. the two of you remain in each other's arms before you finally take a deep breath and step away, giving gojo a watery smile.

"i'll miss you, satoru," you whisper, looking away and blinking back your tears. "i'll see you later, yeah?"

gojo nods dumbly as you finally walk away, giving everyone one last wave before slipping into the car that's been waiting for you this entire time. it isn't until he sees it disappear from view that gojo realizes that he didn't tell you that he would miss you too.

he wastes no time in slipping his sunglasses back over his eyes, clearing his throat quietly before turning and making his way back inside the building.

a week later, gojo hears that nanami has left jujutsu tech as well, and he can't help but wonder if he'll ever see either of you again.

gojo likes to think that he's matured, even though shoko might say otherwise because she's certain she's right. and also to piss him off.

but the truth is, he's no longer the same spunky, reckless teenager he was before everything went wrong in his life. he knows how to sort of work through his emotions now— in a way he thinks is healthy, he might add, but he can't help but find himself frozen in this very moment. there's a weird ache in his heart, one that he silently notes seems to be brought on by the flurry of emotions he's feeling in that very instant.

he wonders if they're visible on his face. they are.

gojo satoru is the most powerful jujutsu sorcerer in japan, maybe even in the world, and yet he feels like he's been reduced to almost nothing when a familiar face slides into the seat across from him.

five years is clearly not long enough to forget you, gojo realizes, physically wincing at the way his heart seems to race at the sight of you. his eyes meet yours, and he holds steady eye contact with you for a few seconds before ducking his head and quietly excusing himself from the table.

he takes a deep breath to attempt and soothe his rattled nerves as he takes a seat at the bar, squishing himself into the corner so that he's not visible from your table. he orders a soda from the bartender, ignoring the disbelieving look he gets in return before he ambles off to prepare the drink.

gojo has barely taken a sip of the soda before shoko is crashing into his side, settling onto the barstool next to him and digging her elbow into his side as she calls her order out to the bartender. neither of them speak until shoko gets her drink, and she immediately lifts it to her lips and takes a big sip that makes gojo shudder with disgust.

"surprise," shoko says dryly, glancing at gojo as he spares a look in your direction. he notices three extra people at the table, and he lets his shoulders drop in relief when he sees familiar heads of blond, white, and brunette.

"yeah, quite the surprise," gojo huffs, taking another sip of his soda. he stares at shoko until she turns to face him, a mildly displeased look on her face as she takes in his furrowed eyebrows. "i didn't know you still kept in contact with them."

"i didn't know you didn't still keep in contact with them," shoko shoots back, raising an eyebrow as she studies gojo's conflicted expression. she continues before he can gather his thoughts, earning a loud sigh as she speaks. "you kept in contact with nanami just fine. in fact, all he does is complain about how you never leave him alone."

gojo swallows harshly at shoko's words, and he thinks long and hard before deciding to remain silent for the time being. he can't find it in himself to admit that the thought of reaching out to you hurts him more than he cares to admit. you had left the jujutsu world, the one part of your life that included him, behind. even if he wanted to, gojo doesn't think he can find the words to express how he's feeling.

"switch seats with me when we get back to the table," gojo says suddenly, pausing to slurp up the rest of his drink. shoko glares at him when he sucks on nothing but air, the obnoxious sound causing her to reach over and flick him in the cheek. gojo grins widely when she hits nothing but air, his infinity protecting him from shoko's incredibly violent wrath.

"no," she says, getting off her barstool and picking up her drink. gojo realizes too late that she's heading back to the table, and he scrambles after her in an attempt to get there before her. his attempts are fruitless, and he finds himself awkwardly standing behind shoko's seat as she takes her place two chairs down from you.

gojo acts normal when everyone turns to glance at him, and he stiffly makes his way back to his own seat, avoiding your questioning gaze as he sits down. it takes a second for the table to break out into chatter again, and gojo doesn't hesitate before turning to the seat next to him and striking up a conversation with utahime. he notices mei mei grab your attention out of the corner of his eye, and he can't help but sigh in relief as he focuses on utahime once again, disregarding her annoyed look.

gojo is certain that ignoring you is much easier than dealing with whatever the hell is causing him to feel like he's dying inside.

the days that follow the dinner at the restaurant are unnervingly quiet, and gojo finds himself sitting on his couch and wondering if he should reach out to you.

there are no missions to take at the moment, and gojo is left with nothing to do but stare at his phone and wait for a message that never comes. megumi takes note of his sullen behavior, and although a part of him is curious about gojo's sudden attitude change, he doesn't think he actually cares enough to ask the white-haired sorcerer about what seems to be bothering him.

a few more days pass before gojo ultimately decides that reaching out to you would do more harm than good, especially with the way he completely ignored you at dinner. he's given no time to even think about changing his mind, and the very next day, he's being sent out on yet another mission.

he eventually falls into the same monotonous routine his life had prior to his run-in with you, and he wonders what would've changed if he had decided to take the chance and reach out the day after seeing you. there's a dull ache in his chest that seems to linger even after he makes his decision, and it only seems to get worse whenever shoko deigns to share updates about you with him.

the two of them know that gojo is more than grateful for her updates, even if he refuses to ask about you outright. he's certain that if he were to fully give into his curiosity that his heart would feel like it's giving out on him, and not even shoko's displeased looks are enough for him to get over himself and just ask you directly. he's even stopped pestering nanami, too afraid that he would give in and ask him questions about you.

it isn't until a long time passes (a year and a half; he's kept count) that gojo thinks he's finally getting over it— getting over you. his heart finally starts feeling lighter and breathing becomes a little bit easier and he can't help but think about how silly he was being, staying hung up for so long on somebody who probably never even thought twice about him.

they're small improvements but they're still improvements, and gojo reminds himself of that even as he walks down the busy streets of tokyo. he breathes out a sigh of relief as he slips into the local pharmacy, the cool air conditioning a welcome reprieve from the sticky heat outside.

he mumbles to himself as he moves through the aisles, scanning the shelves as he looks for children's allergy medication. the sudden weather changes had affected megumi and tsumiki in a way none of them had expected, and gojo was left alone to deal with their pitiful sniffles and soft complaints.

"allergy meds," he whispers, reaching out to grab a box only to put it back when it's not the one he's looking for. "there's so much cough syrup, where's the aller—"

"gojo?"

so maybe he hasn't improved, gojo thinks to himself as he freezes up at the sound of your voice. he holds his breath as you approach him, and he squeezes his eyes shut when he feels your sleeve brush against his.

six and a half years isn't enough to forget about you either, it seems.

"it's been a while, huh?" you ask, giving him a soft glance before looking at the shelves in front of you. there's a light hum that escapes your lips as you bend down to grab something before straightening up and holding out a box in your hand. "allergy meds, right?"

gojo nods silently as he takes the box from you, quickly scanning the text on it to make sure it was the right brand. there's an awkward silence as he thinks about what to say, and he blurts out the first thing that comes to mind when you turn your face away from him.

"it's not for me!"

a noise that gojo thinks might be a giggle leaves your lips at his proclamation, and he mentally kicks himself for starting up a conversation with you.

"it's for megumi, right?" you ask softly, unaware of the way gojo's eyes widen at your question. "that zenin kid you took in?"

when you notice gojo's shocked look, you hastily ass onto your statement. "shoko told me about him when i asked about you."

'shoko told me about him when i asked about you.'

gojo thinks he feels his head spin when he hears those words come out of your mind. he does his best to remain calm, reaching out a hand to lean against the shelf comfortably and wincing when he instead knocks down a row of the cough syrups he had been studying earlier.

"uh, fushiguro, actually," he mutters, doing his best to focus on straightening out the products he knocked down. "his dad took his wife's last name or something like that. but yeah, the medicine is for him and his sister."

he finds himself shuffling awkwardly as you look down at your watch, eyes widening slightly when you take note of the time. he watches as you turn to face the shelf behind you, quickly plucking some eye drops off the shelf before turning back to him.

"i have to go, i'm running late for a meeting," you say sheepishly, giving gojo a soft smile. he gives you a half-smile in return, accompanied by a lazy wave as he waits for you to leave. you stand in front of him for a second, hesitating slightly before leaning in and wrapping your arms around him in a quick hug. gojo tenses up in your embrace, his breath catching in his throat and hands freezing mid-air before he hesitantly places them on your back. you pull back slightly after a few seconds, looking up at gojo with a stare that makes his heart feel like it's about to beat out of his chest before you address him once more. "it was nice to see you. we should catch up sometime."

you're gone with a smile and a wave, quickly paying for your eye drops before darting out the door. gojo remains in his spot for five minutes after your departure, only moving when he sees the amused look the cashier seems to be giving him. he doesn't speak as he pays for the allergy medication, and he hastily makes his exit back into the stifling heat. he starts walking down the street as he tucks his change into his pocket, eyebrows furrowing in confusion when his fingers brush against a piece of paper that hadn't bee there before.

there's an annoyed grumble from a passerby when gojo suddenly stops in the middle of the street, his fingers clutching onto the paper that contains very familiar handwriting.

'can't wait to see you again! :)'

the line is followed by what he assumes to be your phone number, and gojo can't help but wonder when you had the chance to write the note. he begins moving down the street again, his steps sluggish as he hesitates near a trash can. before he can think any harder, he lets the paper flutter into wastebasket, only pausing for a brief second before moving away.

not seeing you over the past year and a half made his heart feel lighter, yet all it took was a five minute interaction with you to make his heart feel worse than it ever had before.

the world loves to play cruel jokes on him, gojo thinks.

the past two years have been a whirlwind of chaos and uncertainty, and he's had no time to stop and think about you while dealing with geto, sukuna, and the emergence of the cursed spirit that calls itself mahito.

if he really thinks about it, he's had no time to sit and rest. from geto's attack to yuuta's training to megumi's missions to yuuji's interesting choice that led to him eating sukuna's finger, he's had no time to sit and truly enjoy the little things life has to offer.

(not that he's ever had the time. the life of a special grade sorcerer is a busy one, but gojo can't deny that things weren't always as complicated as they have been the last couple of years.)

so when yaga tells him that nanami is returning to jujutsu tech, gojo thinks that it's the perfect time to let yuuji learn from someone other than him while he takes care of some unfinished business. what he doesn't expect however, is to see you standing next to nanami, a pretty smile on your face as you greet yaga with a hug.

ten years. ten years and somehow, you still manage to make gojo feel the same way he did way back then.

there's something wrong with him, he thinks, especially because it's starting to seem like he's cursed to always somehow coexist with those he cares about without ever fully being a part of their lives. there's no way he can turn around and pretend he never saw you, not with the way yaga is already yelling at him to go over and greet the returners.

gojo wonders why this happens every time he sees you. he doesn't know how to label what he feels whenever you pop up in his life, and it isn't until you give him a hesitant greeting— your tone shy and awkward after receiving nothing but radio silence from him— that gojo thinks he might finally know what it is he feels for you.

and when the thought of him being in love with you crosses his mind and makes him feel like he wants to die, all he can do is tamp down his swirling emotions with a goofy grin aimed at nanami.

"nanami! what a pleasure to see you here," gojo sings, immediately pulling the blond man into a reluctant hug. he gives you a polite nod in greeting, and he can't help the way his heart sinks when you nod in response and look away.

"likewise," nanami replies, his tone strained as he pulls away from gojo. he fixes his shirt as he steps over to you, and the two of you stand silently as you wait for yaga to speak.

"introduce them to yuuji," yaga says, turning around and heading back towards his office. "and don't cause trouble. i mean it, satoru."

gojo giggles at yaga's words before clapping his hands and motioning for the two of you to follow after him, leading you down a series of hallways before you come to a stop in front of an empty room.

"yuuji! there's someone i'd like you to meet!"

you're taken slightly aback when your eyes meet bright, brown ones, and you can't help but stare as a teenage boy with pink hair comes to a stop in front of you and nanami.

"this is nanami kento!" gojo all but yells, once again slinging his arm around nanami's shoulders and swaying him back and forth. the boy, yuuji, looks at nanami curiously, his eyes focused on the glasses perched on his nose. he has no time to speak before gojo is introducing you as well, his voice softer than it had been when introducing nanami. yuuji's eyes sparkle as they shift to you, and all of a sudden he's breaking out into a boyish smile that only serves to remind you just how young he really is.

"woah! i didn't think you were actually real!" he proclaims, earning a strained laugh from gojo. "when gojo mentioned you he said you were really p—"

the rest of his words are muffled, gojo's hands clamped tightly against his mouth as he pulls yuuji away from you. out of the corner of your eye, you can see nanami staring at you, and you only give him a shrug in return as gojo pats yuuji's head and lets him go.

"you'll be following them around on missions," gojo finally explains, pushing yuuji towards you and nanami. "they're both grade 1 sorcerers so don't worry, you'll be safe! now if you'll excuse me, i have to go."

gojo's out of the room before either of you can breathe out a goodbye, and you tense for a second before excusing yourself and following after him. he hasn't gotten terribly far, but his long legs give him the advantage of staying ahead of you even as you start jogging lightly in an attempt to catch up to him.

"gojo!" you call out, huffing lightly when he ignores you and turns a corner. "hey! gojo, wait! satoru!"

the sounds of his given name has his steps faltering, and he reluctantly turns around when he hears your footsteps getting closer and closer. there's a rigidity to his stance that you've never seen, his shoulders hunched in an almost defensive way as you finally come to a stop in front of him.

"yeah?" he asks, an uncomfortable grin settling on his lips as he looks anywhere but you. he's grateful for his blindfold in this very moment, the dark fabric preventing him from seeing you in your entirety and preventing you from seeing the way he can't seem to look at you for more than half a second.

"i—," you say, starting to speak and cutting yourself off before looking down at the ground. you sigh softly, shaking your head lightly as your shoulders slump. "never mind. forget about it."

you turn to walk back to the room, and gojo feels like he might actually keel over and die right then and there if he lets you walk away yet again.

"how have you been?"

gojo's question hangs in the air, and he can't help but flinch when you finally look at him again, your eyes swirling with hurt and sadness and other emotions that pass so quickly that gojo isn't sure he could figure out what they were even if he tried.

"you'd know if you hadn't thrown my phone number away," you retort quietly, crossing your arms as he approaches you. gojo breathes in sharply at your words but remains quiet, his throat going dry as he realizes that you had seen what he did that day. "why, gojo?"

gojo weighs his options, vacillating between telling you the truth or spewing a lie. the words seem to spill out of his mouth before he can even think about whether or not to say them, a trend he notices is extremely common whenever he's in your presence. "because you've ruined my life."

okay, so the truth it is.

your eyes widen in hurt when you take in his words, and it takes everything you have to not burst into tears on the spot. "oh, i see."

"wait," gojo says, scrambling to fix the situation that just keeps getting worse and worse with everything he says or does. "that's not what i meant."

"then what did you mean?" you ask sharply, your eyes narrowing slightly as you stare him down.

"what i mean is that i think i love you," he says in a rush, ignoring the way your eyes widen in surprise at his admission. he doesn't give you the chance to respond, too focused on saying everything that's been building up for the past decade before he gets cold feet. "you've ruined my life, you know? it's been ten years but it's damn near impossible to get over you. my heart still feels as heavy as it did the day you let, maybe even heavier, and i threw away your number because i didn't see any benefit in reaching out to you. why would i torture myself by keeping in contact with you when i belong to the world you wanted to leave behind?"

"i wanted to leave the jujutsu world behind," you interject softly, taking a hesitant step towards gojo before coming to a stop. "that doesn't mean i wanted to leave gojo satoru behind."

"oh," gojo breathes. he wonders if you can hear how loud his heart is beating in his chest, and he decides that maybe he doesn't care. "does that mean that—"

"i liked you?" you interrupt, nodding your head softly. "or like, i guess. i agree, ten years isn't enough to get over you."

"i was talking about you," gojo mumbles dumbly, earning a shrug in response from you. a loud crash sounds from the direction of the room you had left nanami in, and you give gojo a hesitant look before motioning in the direction of the noise.

"i should probably go and check that out," you say quietly, a smile twitching at the corners of your lips. "y'know, make sure that nanami is okay."

"um, yeah. yeah that sounds reasonable," gojo says, his mind still focused on your impromptu confession.

"i don't think this conversation is over yet," you continue, breathing out a laugh when gojo nods in agreement. he jumps slightly when you take his hand in yours, slipping a piece of paper into in before tugging him down to press a kiss to his cheek. "let me know when you're free, yeah? maybe we can get dinner or something and talk."

"are you asking me out on a date?" he asks cheekily, doing his best to compose himself.

"maybe i am," you say slyly, squeezing his hand once before letting go. you turn to walk down the hall, only pausing to look at him over your shoulder once before you turn the corner. "don't lose my number this time, okay?"

gojo chuckles at your words, nodding in agreement as he gives you a lazy salute. "i wouldn't dream of it."

it isn't until you're out of sight that gojo realizes his heart feels the lightest that it's ever felt in years, and he finds himself once again wondering when you had gotten the chance to write the note.

reblogs are appreciated <3 ty for reading !!

[worldlxvlys]

I HAVE A IDEA (MR CRABS I HAVE AN IDEA)

yk the new song ari came out with (we can't be friends) Chris fic were the reader and him are best friends that always flirt and they made out drunk at a party and have not been talking for a week untill Chris shows up at her house and they makeout and maybe some smut? Idrk

Anyways that's all 💋

we can’t be friends

chris sturniolo x reader

warnings: angst, mentions of drinking/being drunk, smut, fingering, oral (fem receiving), squirting, cursing

a/n: i’ve been absolutely OBSESSED with this song and itching to write about ittt

i hope you enjoy

i let out a heavy sigh at his last text, before throwing my phone onto my bed.

of course i wanted to fight for us, but this was about more than just our friendship . this was about what was best for us individually.

for as long as i could remember, i always put chris’ feelings before my own. i spent so long chasing after him, just to end up heartbroken.

i watched him constantly pick other people over me, blissfully unaware of how deeply he was wounding me.

but no matter how much i wanted to, i couldn’t blame him. it was easier to point fingers at him than to accept the fact that this was partially my own fault.

i let him continue to hurt me, over and over again, never telling him what he was doing to me. and if i didn’t tell him, how would he know any better ?

so, even though it killed me to act so cold and distant toward him, it was time to look out for myself for once.

i needed to take the time to love and take care of myself before expecting someone else to do so.

sure, he’d be upset for a short while, but once he got over me he would easily move on to the next girl. that’s all i was to him, after all. just another girl.

i was pulled from my thoughts when i heard my front door open and close suddenly, followed by quick footsteps toward my room.

i waited behind my bedroom door, quick to swing my arm out in front of me when the person made it to the doorway.

i was met with chris, who immediately caught my wrist in his hand.

we stared at each other with wide eyes, neither one of us speaking. i blinked up at him, watching his eyes trail down to my lips.

“don’t do that” the words flew out of my mouth before i could stop them.

his eyes immediately shot back up to mine, a curious expression taking over his features.

“don’t do what?” he asked, loosening his grip on my wrist to let it slide down, intertwining our fingers.

“chris, we aren’t doing this. i meant what i said earlier, we’re better off not being friends”

“you keep saying that, but you won’t tell me why. you gotta talk to me baby” he spoke.

“i don’t want to” i spoke back, shaking my head as i backed up slightly to create more distance between us.

“how am i supposed to know what i did wrong if you don’t talk to me?”

he was right, of course he was. it was unfair of me to just cut him off with no reasoning. but the second we start talking about it is the second it becomes real. i didn’t want to come to terms with the fact that i was trying to end one of the most important friendships i’d ever had in my life.

“you didn’t do anything, chris” i answered. he wasn’t having it. “no, tell me. i’m not letting you just end our friendship like this, not without a reason”

“i just can’t be friends with you”

“why? what is so wrong with me that you don’t want me in your life? and completely out of nowhere” he spoke, his voice rising slightly.

“see, that’s the problem. i don’t want you out of my life, i want you in it forever. but you clearly don’t want that, and it’s ok.”

“who the hell said i didn’t want that?” chris asked, his brows furrowing.

“chris, it’s fine. you don’t have to try to make me feel better-”

“so you don’t believe me?” he cut me off.

“i mean, i don’t know, i just…” my babbling trailed off as i tried to find the right words.

“let me prove it to you” he whispered as he toyed with the strap of my tank top.

my breathing grew shallow as he moved the fabric down my arm slightly, pressing his lips to my shoulder.

“chris….we shouldn’t” i whispered, but tilted my head to the side, allowing him more access as his lips moved up my neck.

“really? you weren’t complaining a week ago” he spoke against my skin.

i slapped his chest lightly at that. “yeah, well we were also drunk”

he bit down on my neck, harshly enough to leave a bruise and elicit a moan from me. “so, you don’t want this?” he asked.

i let out a deep sigh, “of course i do, chris. but do you?”

he looked as though he was going to say something, but i stopped him “don’t tell me yes just because you want sex. i don’t want you to just want somebody, i want you to want me. if you’re just gonna fuck me and move onto the next girl, then forget it” i spoke.

the more i thought about it, the more i convinced myself that he didn’t really want me.

“hey” he spoke softly, cupping my jaw. “this isn’t about the sex, this isn’t even about me wanting you. this is about me needing you. this is about me not being able to live without you. yes, i’ve been with other girls. but there’s a reason that you’re the only one that’s always been there”

“i was so sure you didn’t feel the same, so i tried to move on. but i couldn’t, because none of those girls are you. and i’m so sorry that i hurt you, i’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if i have to”

chris looked at me as though he could cry. his blue eyes shot back and forth between my own, his thumb caressing my jaw gently.

“so make it up to me” i whispered, pulling his lips to my own.

one of his arms smoothly slid behind my back, supporting my weight as i found it hard to keep my balance.

he kissed me like he had waited his whole life for this moment. his lips felt so soft against mine, unlike our last kiss.

this kiss made our drunken one feel sloppy and desperate, like two people who were just horny, but this was more than that. it was eye-opening, sweet, gentle, it was everything i didn’t know i needed.

but chris did, he always knew what to say or do to make me happy. i couldn’t stay mad at him even if i wanted to.

“let me make you feel good?” he asked when we pulled away. “yeah” i let out breathlessly, nodding my head.

“lay down for me” he said, leaving another kiss to my neck. i did as he said, getting onto my bed and laying on my back.

he wasted no time in crawling over me, his hands placed on either side of my waist. “can i?” he asked, lightly tugging at the hem of my top.

i nodded at him, lifting my upper body up as he pulled off my top. without a word, he attached his lips to my nipple while caressing the other with his hand.

i let out a loud moan at the feeling, beginning to squirm underneath him.

“shit, chris” i sighed out, his eyes immediately looking up at mine.

he swirled his tongue around the hardened bud, watching as my body melted into his touch.

he sucked on my tit until the skin turned dark, moving to the other to give it the same treatment.

“god, chris. feels so good” i moaned out while he continued to work my sensitive nipple with his tongue.

“you look so pretty like this” he rasped as he soothed my boobs with his hands, “can’t believe i have you all to myself” he mumbled to himself.

he moved his face downwards, leaving gentle kisses to my rib cage and abdomen. he paid special attention to every birthmark and scar he found, pressing a kiss to each one.

his fingers rubbed small circles into my skin as he ventured further and further down my body.

he stopped at the waistband of my shorts, leaving a kiss to my crotch area. due to the thin material or the shorts and my lack of underwear, my hips shot up involuntarily at the feeling.

“no underwear? such a dirty fucking girl” he spoke, smacking his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

he licked a long stripe up my pussy through the shorts, eliciting a long whine from me. “chris, stop teasing me” i spoke as i squirmed under him.

“you just make it so easy, baby” he spoke, before continuing to leave kisses down my thighs and calves.

“lift up” he spoke as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of my shorts. i raised my hips, allowing chris to pull them off.

i let out a sigh at the feeling of my heat being exposed to the cold air of the room.

chris stared down at my glistening pussy, mouth hung open slightly as he pulled my folds apart, spreading me open.

“my god, you’re so gorgeous” he spoke, blowing cool air onto my heat.

“hold your legs apart for me, beautiful” he spoke, his lips inches away from my core.

“so wet” he mumbled before running his tongue along my thighs, just missing where i needed him.

“chris, please. i need your mouth so fucking bad” i whined. “where, baby?” he asked, teasing me some more.

finally having enough, i wrapped my legs around his head, pulling his face into my heat.

he let out a long moan into me, his eyes rolling back as he licked up every drop of my slick.

my head fell back at the feeling, legs loosening around him to let him pull back if needed, however he stayed right where he was.

the words that fell out of my mouth sounded like gibberish, but i didn’t care about that. all i could focus on was chris.

the way he groaned into me, his needy tongue lapping me up like i was his last meal. his piercing eyes never left mine, only making the tight feeling in my stomach grow.

my arousal covered his flushed cheeks, making me even wetter.

there was something that i found so incredibly hot about how messily he was eating me out. it was like all he cared about was me finishing.

he moved his face from my legs, making me let out a whine at the loss of contact.

he stuck his tongue out, his spit dripping down onto my pussy.

“what do you think about when you touch yourself? ” he asked suddenly while he brought his finger down to my core to rub me.

“i- oh” i cried out in surprise at the feeling of his finger entering me.

“holy fuck, you’re so tight” he whispered as he pushed his pointer finger in and out of my tight walls.

“oh my god” i whimpered when he pushed another finger in.

“if you don’t answer me, i’m stopping” he spoke.

“this! i think about this!” i rushed out, eyes screwing shut at the feeling of his rough fingers inside of me.

“i think about how perfect your hands are. fuck- how long your fingers are” i struggled out between moans, “i think about you” i finished.

“yeah? what about my cock?” he asked as his fingers sped up.

“you think about what it would feel like for me to fuck you into oblivion? ” he asked as he curled his fingers, hitting my g-spot.

“fuck, yes! i’m so close chris” i cried out as he continued to plunge his fingers in and out of me.

“c’mon, you got it. doing so well for me, want you to make a mess all over me” he rasped out, fingers moving rapidly inside of me.

“chris, wait! i’m gonna-” i tried to warn him, but i was too far gone as my juices shot out of me.

the liquid dripped down his face, onto the saturated sheets underneath us.

“yes, yes, fuck yes” chris groaned as his mouth hung open. i leaned up slightly, watching the way his hips stuttered and his body shook.

“fuck” he let out breathlessly, as he began to shudder.

“did you just come untouched?” i asked, eyes widening slightly.

“if that doesn’t prove how much i want you, nothing will”

wait why’d i kinda eat ??? 🤭

masterlist

tag list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @readerakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @rootbeerworshiper @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @nicksmainbitch @meg-sturniolo @yamamasjumpercables @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07 @breeloveschris @luverboychris

[madelynraemunson]

NEED…MORE…EX-HUSBAND!EDDIE…I AM FERAL AND FOAMING AT THE MOUTH PLEASE BLESS US MORE I’M BEGGING

IT’S ANGST O’CLOCK!!!

𝐢 𝐰𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 (𝐬𝐨 𝐢 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠)

ex husband! eddie x fem!reader

“all that still matters is ‘love ever after’ — after the life we’ve been through” — life after you // daughtry

WC: ~950 words

3AM. The witching hour.

The air smells of twilight musk and marinating dew. It's pitch black all around you, the nearest gas station being an agonizing 1.3 miles away. You're also 10 miles from Hawkins, pulled over in nothing but platform heels, a black mini dress, and expired pepper spray in your purse. To make matters worse, the only friends up who seem to be up at this hour are hungry bears and obnoxious, chirping crickets. And skinwalkers if you're where you think you are.

A horrible ending to a girls night out. Just what you needed.

Alone and afraid, you decide to call the number one person on speed dial, whose gradual distaste towards you renders itself very evident from the moment he answers the phone.

"What?! I'm trying to sleep."

"Eds." you whimper into the phone. "I need you."

There's a long pause in response to your petrified sobs, followed by the clicking noise of a phone keyboard before you hear cursing and the frantic ruffling of sheets.

"I’ll be there."

"Well?"

You watch as Eddie crinkles his forehead in concentration, examining your car while his soot-tainted hands explore every crevice of your hood. Routine maintenance has never been as issue because you've always had a personal mechanic at your feet. But since the divorce, you've gotten pretty bad about it. Otherwise, the you and Eddie wouldn't be stuck in this situation. Obviously.

"Weeelp." Eddie sighs, stretching out every bit of the syllable. He slams the hood shut. "She's just about blown out. You're lucky that thing didn't overheat too much with you in it."

You've prided yourself in not needing a man to change your tires, wiper fluid, OR oil nowadays. But in the midst of your journey towards self love and independence, you somehow forgot that your car could also overheat.

"Oh..”

You try not to watch intently as Eddie cleans his hands off with his hanky, the one he keeps neatly tucked into the back pocket of his flattering dark, denim jeans. Your eyes then trail towards his leather jacket, which housed his broad shoulders and delicious waist so nicely, you would've thought it had been tailored just for him. And you could just about fall right into him when he angles his torso towards you, his sculpted jawline glistening in the moonlight — but nearly not as glistening as those gorgeous chocolate eyes, the ones he used to his advantage during your marriage to get you to forgive him for whatever mistake he seemed to make that week. Before you could fawn any further, Eddie snaps you back to reality.

"When was the last time you put some coolant in this thing?"

"Some what?"

"You keep Prestone at the house?" Eddie pesters. "Antifreeze? Peak?"

Cheeks reddening, you shake your head. "No.”

"You get this thing examined often?"

“Not unless you do it," is what you shamefully admit. “For the most part…”

Eddie's face scrunches out of frustration. He knew this would happen.

"God, I hate when you do shit like this," he snaps. "For all I know your engine light could've been on for weeks."

"But it wasn't." you mutter softly. You're already scared. This is the last thing you need.

"You know your car in particular needs to be serviced every half year?" Eddie mutters. "Oil changes, tire rotations. Your break pads have also seen better days. Which is concerning."

"Ok.”

"And how many times do I have to say you gotta pay attention to this fucking radiator?!" Eddie hisses, slapping at the hood again with his open palm. You shudder at the loud *THUNK* noise that echoes across the woods. "We wouldn't be out here in 3AM if you had just taken proactive measures.”

"Stop YELLING at me!" you whine, a piece of your inner child spewing outwards to combat Eddie's belligerent word vomit.

"I'm not yelling." Eddie firmly insists.

He turns his back to you and starts towards your car again.

"Yes, you are, you always do." you croak miserably, balling your fists up in frustration. “You always do Eddie, and I'm sick of it! You always want to be right, and you always kick me when I'm already down to-"

“Okay, okay, okay." Eddie hushes you. He runs a frantic hand through his hair. "Agh, fuck, okay — I’m sorry.”

He looks at you with guilty, glimmering eyes as you shift your body away from him. Guarded, tense. Closing up all access of you towards him because he lost those rights a long time ago. Muttering to himself now, Eddie scrapes at the pebbles beneath his feet, fiddling with the chain of his wallet before he dares to speak to you again.

"I just worry about you a lot."

You peer back over at him. "Deadass?"

He snorts. "Well yeah."

With your permission Eddie stalks closer to you.

"I don't want to wake up to a phone call talking about my wife's car bursting into flames — with her inside." He rolls his eyes. “All because she hasn't been maintaining her shit.”

"I have been," you fib just a bit, though most of it rings true. just forgot to iron out some little details."

Eddie relaxes his shoulders.

"I know," he surrenders. “I guess there's a part of me that secretly hopes you'll still need me somehow. Some way, or another."

"I'll always need your presence," you reassure him.

Your ex husband softens up. He always thought that during your separation you had found another Superman to save the day. Some other handsome devil to fix your car and maintain all the leaky faucets inside your once shared home. But as you've always insisted, nobody has your back like Eddie. Your very own George Reeves. At your disposal for you and you only.

He suddenly wraps his arms around you, and as you predicted you ease right into him, the comfort and familiarity of Eddie melting away any ounce of hostility you guys have ever harbored against each other. You both have your days, but the love you two have for each other has always remained the same. Just changed form, is all.

"I'm glad you're okay," is all he says.

'I'm glad you're here," you sniff. "Always playing hero, per usual..."

"Well for you, always."

He plants a gentle kiss on top of your forehead as you two sway around in unison. You hum to showcase your endearment.

And he'd do it again.

———

🏷️ tagging peeps who seemed interested in this lil universe 🫶🏼✨ thank you guys for reading :)

@highinmiamiii @potatobeans99 @mediocredreams @joshlmbrt @eddiesxangel @enam3l @mmunson86 @davidblowies-blog @thatissonnina @oskea93 @aurora-austen @lesservillain @madeofmunson @xxbimbobunnyxx @eddiesghxst @munsonssweets @nailbatanddungeon @swiss-mrs @winchester-angel @belokhvostikova @curlyjoequinn @strangereads @marrowfrog00 @shadyunknowncreation @tuolcaniacoc @catherinnn @prestinalove @pleuviors @cinemabean @calumfmu @littlexdeaths

[roanniom]

I wanna say best friend Steve, who doesn’t get why you’re insecure and wants to hype you up…

Reflections

Best Friend!Steve Harrington x Fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, friends to lovers, light angst from body image issues but it resolves, PIV sex / mirror sex, praise, groping, a LOT of fluff

You’re getting ready for a party and he’s waiting for you but you’re taking foreeeeever and he’s so BORED. He’s flopped on your bed with an arm over his eyes moaning about how late you two will be. But then he realizes you’ve been in your closet for a long time and you’re really quiet.

“Babe? C’mon, what’s going on? Get outta there.”

When you finally do, Steve’s eyes go wide. He’s never seen you in something so form fitting. Something that hugs every delicious curve and exposes the hills and valleys of you. His mouth goes dry and suddenly he’s feeling all hot and clammy like a fucking teenager again.

Keep it together, Harrington. You used to run shit and now you’re getting stiff over your best friend? He swallows thickly at the thought and wrenches his gaze up to your face, startled to find you frowning.

“What’s wrong?” he asks and you throw your arms up into the air.

“What do you mean what’s wrong?” you huff, walking over to the mirror. Steve steps up behind you, doing his best to maintain a respectful distance. Your hands grab meanly at the rounded parts of you and your frown deepens. “This doesn’t fit how I wanted it to and I look awful and -,”

You’re cut off suddenly by the massive snort of a laugh Steve let’s out behind you. You glare daggers at him over your shoulder through the mirror.

“What the fuck, Harrington?!”

Steve continues chuckling but puts his hands heavy on your shoulders, good natured and soothing.

“I’m sorry but you’re fucking crazy if you think you look awful. You’ve gotta be pulling my leg here, babe.”

Your jaw tenses as it does every time he calls you ‘babe.’ Reminding yourself that he’s your friend and nothing more, regardless of the way his fingers are digging into your muscles, you shake your head petulantly.

“I look like bag of lumps,” you argue.

“Nah, you look like one of those paintings we saw on that field trip to that museum in Indianapolis,” he says wistfully, no longer pretending to not be appraising you in the mirror. Despite your lingering trepidations you can’t lie to yourself. You like the feeling of his eyes on your body.

“You calling me Rubenesque?” you ask, finally quirking a smile. Steve’s answer grin is huge, glad you’re no longer frowning.

“Look, I have no idea what that means but if it’s good, then yeah.” He shrugs and takes you in again, scanning your figure with eyes that finally settle on your ass, no longer looking in the mirror. You feel heat spread through you while he licks his lips unconsciously. “But really I’m calling you sexy.”

“Sexy?” you groan, ruffling with discomfort and squeezing your eyes shut against embarrassment. “Shut up, Harrington!”

Steve’s eyebrows shoot up.

“What?”

“Just shut up, will you?”

“Why? Because I called you sexy?” he asks defensively.

You curl in on yourself covering your ears.

“Stop fucking saying that word.”

“No. I won’t, you weirdo,” Steve laughs, grabbing you by the waist and wrestling you back to full height. You fight against him weakly by wriggling in his arms but his grip is firm. He locks eyes with you in the mirror and forces you to hold the contact. “You’re fucking hot, okay? Deal with it.”

“Ok fine, hot is a word that, while an exaggeration, I can maybe live with,” you respond, rolling your eyes. Steve shakes his head. It’s not lost on you that his grip tightens on your waist.

“But you’re also sexy,” he continues to insist. When you loll your head to the side in discomfort he has to steel himself so he doesn’t lean down and inhale the scent of your perfume on your exposed neck. He shakes you a bit and your head lolls to the other side. “What’s your problem with that word.”

“Because, Steve,” you harumph, slapping your hands over your eyes to hide your face. “Calling someone ‘sexy’ implies that people would willingly have sex with them.”

Steve is momentarily silent but the puff of air that you feel on your neck from his sudden and harsh exhale makes goosebumps erupt on your skin. It’s his turn to frown darkly at you.

“Is that a joke?”

“The idea of people willing to have sex with me?” you ask, reaching to dig and elbow back into his ribs. “Yeah. A big joke. Haha Ho Ho. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

Steve’s mouth flattens into a tight line.

“Lots of people want to have sex with you.” He says it bluntly. It’s not an argument. He’s not trying to convince you. Just stating it as if it’s fact.

And now it’s your turn to snort.

“As the sexual object in question, who has been so celibate it’s like her virginity has been reinstated, I’m gonna have to beg to differ with you, buddy.”

Steve stiffens behind you. You’re best friends. He knew about your dry spell, but he hadn’t realized the extent to which it had messed with your confidence. It makes him almost shake with a sudden rage he doesn’t understand. Not at you, of course. But at the situation. At the male population of Hawkins who clearly don’t have fucking eyeballs let alone brains to comprehend what a catch you are.

He’d been nursing his own pathetic crush on you since that first day you’d waltzed into Scoops Ahoy and immediately turned down his over the top advances. You’d laughed him off as completely unserious and the two of you began an unlikely friendship born of teasing, complaining, and messing with Dustin and Robin. Steve had swallowed his attraction to you, letting it surface only in moments when he could appreciate you without you noticing. Which means “appreciating” your ass when you bend over to pick something up. Or “appreciating” your tits when you bend over to pick something else up. The fact that you haven’t noticed how consistently Steve drops shit is honestly concerning.

Steve’s not a particularly eloquent guy. He can be smooth when he wants to be, but if his current season of striking out constantly has taught him anything, it’s the fact that he isn’t getting any better at speaking. All he knows is he’s desperate to change the look on your face that says you don’t believe in your own looks.

He doesn’t think. He just pulls you against the front of his body roughly, closing the gap he had been maintaining.

“Steve, what - oh!” you gasp when you feel it. Him. Hard against you, his fingers digging into your sides to keep you pressed to him. Steve lowers his head to speak in your ear, all the while maintaining eye contact with you in the mirror.

“You’re more than a sexual object,” he says roughly. Then his hands drop to the sides of your thighs, applying pressure as he slides them up to map the slopes of your curves. “But if that’s what you wanna be, believe me. You’ve got takers, babe.”

“Steve…” you mumble under your breath. Your eyes are wide and fixed on him. Lips wetted and parted as you inhale shallowly.

Well. At least he’d managed to get the frown off your face.

Steve does his best to analyze the look in your eyes through the mirror. He doesn’t want to make you more upset accidentally. You gape for a second, remaining silent, and his hands follow the same path back down your curves, sliding around to press into the roundness of your lower belly to push you more securely against his erection.

“You’re…you’re just trying to make me feel better…” you finally say weakly. Steve’s hands slide back up to hold your hips, pressing into the dip of your waist to savor in a supple roundedness present there as well. Your eyelids flutter for a second at the touch.

“So are you saying this is making you feel better?” He asks. You don’t respond so he rolls his eyes. “You think I got hard just to make you feel better? Seriously?”

“Well I don’t know how it works…” you sputter indignantly. Steve laughs into your hair.

“Yeah I don’t believe that for a second. I think you know exactly how it works and that’s why you find it so fun to mess with me all the damn time.”

Your brow furrows and Steve shakes his head.

“Cut the crap. You do shit to turn me on every single day. It has to be intentional at this point.”

Your mouth opens and you struggle to respond.

“I don’t know what you’re…I’m not doing anything.” Then your face screws up in frustration. “If you’re making fun of me, I swear to god, Steve, I’ll -,”

“Does this feel like I’m making fun of you?!” Steve says abruptly, grinding against you. Your dress is so short that this time it rides up with the pressure, making it so that his clothed cock presses between the plush of the backs of your thighs.

You want to protest, but the moan that rips from your throat doesn’t sound much like a protest. Steve groans in your ear and your eyes whip up from where they’d rested on his hands to find his face. The hunger in his expression steals your breath.

“You cant…you can’t really want this,” you mutter. You can’t want me, is what you mean. It makes a lump form in Steve’s throat. Makes him want to hold you even closer, so he does.

“I do,” he contradicts, rocking himself against you consistently now. He’s encouraged by the way you shiver and grip at his wrists. Not pulling him off you but anchoring him to you instead. Steve brings his face to the side of yours, staring till you turn your head to look at him. In real life this time and not through the mirror. He’s disconcertingly close and your breath stutters in your chest. His eyelids are half mast as he takes you in. “The question is…do you want this?”

You kiss him before you can think any deeper about what’s going on. You kiss him before you can convince yourself that this is a prank or a pity kiss or anything else other than an attractive man you care about lavishing you with physical affection. Steve’s eyes slam shut easily and he holds you close in this awkward position. Craning your neck around as his front is pressed still to your back. His lips are insistent and hot and wet and quickly he’s forcing yours open so his tongue can slip in.

You practically swoon over the combination of his hands and his lips and his tongue. His dick presses more insistently against you and you find yourself pressing back. Shimmying your was a bit to create more friction. Triumph shooting through you when Steve let’s out a quiet, low “Fuck” in response.

When you finally pull away for a oxygen, you straighten up and look at Steve and yourself in the mirror again. You look absolutely debauched out of no where. Eyes hazy, lids low, hair and dress askew, chest rising and falling in a restless pant. Steve ignores the opportunity to breathe, instead using the pause to start kissing your neck.

You watch him work at your skin. His jaw moving and throat tensing and releasing. His hair wild and disheveled in a way that makes him look even more sinfully delicious than normal. It really isn’t fair.

You’ve always been attracted to Steve Harrington. You have eyes and a healthy libido after all. But you’d never believed someone like him could want someone like you. You did believe, however, that you were a perfect match in every respect other than aesthetic. He needed someone to challenge him. Someone to keep him humble while also supporting him and building him up. You had plenty of confidence in your humor, intelligence, and overall personality, so him becoming your best friend made sense when you both fell into it.

But with his body against yours now, it’s the first time you’ve ever even considered the meaning behind his flirtatiousness. The intent behind the hands he places comfortingly on your shoulders or thighs. Hope bloomed hot and hesitant in your core as you watched his hands begin to roam and grope at parts he’d never dared touch before.

“This…this okay?” he asks into your skin as he tentatively cups one of your breasts. He cracks an eye open to look at you in the mirror and when you nod, he allows his hand to close tighter around you. You swallow another moan.

“Steve?”

“Yeah?” he whispers back, not looking up from your tits which he’s begun massaging through your dress. You grasp at his wrist and shake him to get his attention.

“Steve.”

The strain in your voice has his eyes snapping up to yours and his hands stopping immediately. He looks sheepish.

“Do you not like that? I can stop -,”

He goes to remove his hands from your chest but you slam your hands down over the backs of his to keep him fondling you.

“No!” you say hastily. Steve seems confused so you continue. “Remember what you said about there being ‘takers’ for me?”

Steve bites his lip, not enjoying the thought of how many other guys would find you thoroughly fuckable. But he nods.

“Yeah?”

“Well…” you say before you can overthink and ruin this. Your mind is reeling and your body is aching. The signs are too clear to question and even if this wasn’t what it seemed to be, you didn’t feel strong enough to look a gift horse in the mouth. You bite your own lip. “Would you…would you take me?”

Steve stops breathing. You can tell because his breaths were coming in heavy before and now suddenly his chest is still against your back. You don’t let yourself question it. Instead you widen your stance and lean over, flattening your palms against the wall on either side of the mirror. In the reflection of the glass Steve gets a good look down your dress into the cleavage below. Looking behind you he gets a good look up your dress where it’s ridden up, revealing a pair of dainty lace panties.

The groan that rips through him seems to restart his lungs because suddenly he’s practically hyperventilating behind you. His hands land heavy on your hips and he grinds against you with even more purpose. Steve’s instinct is to ask again if you’re sure, but you hum a low “yess” and drop your head to hand between your arched shoulders. 

You’re into this. Maybe even as much as he is. It’s time to man the fuck up and take what he wants. What you want to give him. 

So Steve places his hand on the dip of your lower back to encourage a deeper arch. You oblige him, sticking your ass out further in the process, and he groans. 

“I’ll show you how you should be treated, babe, don’t you worry,” Steve says hoarsely. A thrill runs through you at his words but he continues. “But you have to do one thing for me.”

“Anything,” you answer breathlessly. You’re surprised by your own enthusiasm but you can’t help it, visions running through your mind of what he could ask of you. You mentally prepared yourself to drop to your knees, mouth already prematurely watering. 

“Acknowledge how sexy you are,” he says, suddenly wrenching you upwards so you can see yourself more fully in the mirror again. Your back is once more flush with his chest and you moan at the sight of his hand wrapping lightly, delicately around the base of your throat. 

“That....I’m...” you struggle with the words and then shake your head. Steve’s hand slides down and pulls at one strap and then the other, letting gravity do the work of exposing your breasts to the air and him. Steve’s eyes roll back and he bites his fist. 

“I mean come on,” he moans. He gestures to your chest. “What the fuck is this? You’re the hottest girl I’ve ever seen.”

You can barely meet his intense gaze in the mirror but try your best. 

“You...wouldn’t have dated me in high school.”

Steve blinks. Completely taken back by the juxtaposition of your sudden vulnerability and the absolute fantasy of having your body against him, tits out and ready to be fucked. It takes a second for his brain to work through it but then he’s laughing.

“We wouldn’t have even been friends in high school. I would have made fun you and Robin if we’d ever crossed paths. Probably would have beaten the shit out of Dustin if he’d been old enough. And you know why?” he asks. You’re confused by his laughter so you shake your head and he continues. “Because I was an absolute asshole. It’s a me problem. High school Steve was a dick and honestly you’re better off not even knowing him.”

His tone is flippant but you can see the strain in his features. He feels guilt about his past and you know that. You suddenly feel guilty for letting your insecurities drag up an ancient history that you know he’s more than happy to move past. Comforted, you squeeze one of his hands that now rests on your hip and smile.

“And these days you’re only sometimes a dick,” you tease. Steve’s smile becomes more genuine, but his features screw up when you catch him off guard and bend over again, grinding against his still present erection. His fingers dig into your hips harshly.

“I’ll show you a dick,” he hisses, pressing into you in a shallow thrust. It’s absurd and it makes you laugh, finally free of the tension that had coated everything up to this point.

“Please do, Harrington. You’ve kept me waiting,” you respond, impatiently wiggling your hips. Steve abruptly pushes the bottom of your dress up, exposing your ass and leaving all of the material bunched around your middle. He lands a slap against your right ass cheek that has you squealing, finding his eyes in the mirror. They glint with mischief.

“I know you liked that. You forget you’ve told me what gets you hot,” he says simply. You flashback to the weed fueled honesty session in the Family Video parking lot you both had had one night and tingles erupt at the thought of what else he might remember. But then you remember what he’d said.

“Yeah well you like it when a girl touches herself, right?” you say cockily, lifting one hand from the wall and brining it to slide from your jaw, down your neck, to cup your breast and play with your nipple. While doing so you accentuate the curve in your back. Steve watches, swallowing audibly, but then fast as lightning rips your hand away from yourself and presses it back to the wall. His full body doubles over yours. You gasp.

“Usually I do, yeah. But I’ve waited so long that right now only I get to touch this body, understand?” You’re nodding before you can even think about it. When he trusts that you’ll leave both your hands pressed to the wall, Steve let’s his hands return to you. He slides up from your knees to grip fully at your inner thighs. He manhandles your hips, moving them side to side in order to grind your ass against his tented jeans. He palms up your soft stomach beneath the bunched dress. And then he cups your breasts, rolling your nipples between his fingers, making you gasp again. His chuckle is low.

“See this is better. I’m the one who appreciates this body anyway. I should give her what she deserves.”

Your eyes are heavy lidded as they hold one another in the reflection. There’s hunger there that you’ve never known in your short lived sexual experience and suddenly you know for a goddamn fact that if this man is not inside you soon you will combust.

“Steve can you…can we just…?” You move against him impatiently and he leans in to kiss your neck with a chuckle.

“I’ve got you, babe. No need to beg.” The cockiness makes you roll your eyes but you hate that a fresh wave of wetness coats the tops of your inner thighs.

“I wasn’t gonna beg.”

“You weren’t gonna beg?” Steve asks, feigning shock. Your hands ball into fists against the wall.

“Pull your fucking pants down, Harrington.”

“Can do,” Steve says with a big grin. He unbuckles his belt and pulls down his jeans swiftly, in spit of how tight they are, leaving them and his underwear bunched at his thighs. He pushes you down farther and you have to strain to look up and watch him.

Over the curve of your ass you are treated to the sight of Steve Harrington stroking his massive cock. He hadn’t been called King Steve for nothing, that was for sure. His fist moves over it smoothly and with a familiarity that has you jealous of his fucking hand. Your eyes are wide and he seems pleased by your reaction.

“This work for you?” he teases. You bite your lip and consider your response.

“You’re sexy, Steve Harrington.”

A flush spreads across his face and down your neck and you’ve never been so smug in your entire life. But to his credit Steve clears his throat and grins.

“Thank you, babe,” he says before leaning over your body and rutting his cock against your core, leaving you gasping. He chuckles in your ear. “See, that’s how you take a compliment.”

“It’s not a compliment when it’s a fact, Steve,” you argue. But then he’s pulling down your panties and your legs begin to shake in anticipation.

“I don’t know because this is both a compliment and a fact - you’re fucking soaked!” he groans, running two fingers through your folds to collect the slick there. He flashes you a smile in the mirror that you can’t return because he suddenly sinks two fingers into you, causing your jaw to drop. “Which sexy thing in the mirror did this to you - you or me.”

“Shut - fuck. Shut up, Harrington,” you grit out.

He laughs and starts kissing your neck in tandem to his thrusting fingers. You bite back a moan, especially when his free hand lifts to play with your nipple. As someone who’d never been afforded much foreplay, you probably could have taken him two minutes into your argument, but Steve Harrington is warming you up. Getting you ready for him. And the realization makes you want to melt into a puddle at his feet.

When he adds a third finger and your hips work overtime, practically riding his hand, Steve finally pulls away, pressing a swirl into your clit that has you spasming as he takes his hand from between your legs.

“I think you’re good and ready,” he mutters, almost to himself. You nod feverishly up at him, swiveling your neck to try and see him directly. He shakes his head and nudges you back to the mirror. “No you’re gonna watch. You’re gonna watch me fuck you and see how well you take it.”

His words almost have your eyes rolling back in your head, but you hum an affirmative and go back to watching him in the mirror. Steve rubs the head of his cock through your folds and the way his face crumbles in pleasure has you absolutely preening. Then a sudden thought has your back rigid.

“Steve. Condom,” you say softly but urgent. His eyes snap open and he’s nodding immediately.

“Yeah sorry. Sorry!” He leans down and nips at the swell of your ass playfully and you yelp at the casual intimacy of it, heating up further as he reaches into the pocket of his bunched up jeans and pulls a foil packet from his wallet.

“How old is that?” you challenge with a cocked brow. He studies the packet for a second before looking up at you grinning.

“New enough that it’s not expired but old enough to have been collecting dust in there for a while,” he says, ripping it open and rolling the condom over his length. You bite your lip at the subtle confirmation that he hasn’t been with anyone else for a long time, trying to tamp down how good that makes you feel. Steve notices. “You like that? The fact that you’re the only one?”

You roll your eyes and repeat the refrain of the night.

“Shut up, Harrington.”

Steve pushes forward, one hand wrapped around the base of his dick, the other hand grounding on your hip. He spreads your folds with the head to cover himself in your slick. You sigh at the feeling.

“You’re not the only one whose been in a dry spell,” he says with a chuckle. You groan, letting your eyes slide closed while the hand that’s on your hip slips between your thighs to rub circles into your clit. He’s making you wetter. Prepping you further to accommodate his size. Again you feel overwhelmed by his attentiveness and how different this is from all your previous experiences. “You know the difference between us though, right?”

“Hm?” you ask, fully distracted by the pressure of his cock at your entrance and his finger on your bud.

“The difference is my dry spell is cuz I was waiting for you.” He says it simply. As if he’s not dropping a bomb on you in an incredibly intimate moment. Your eyes fly open and find his in the mirror and he’s grinning but this isn’t a joke. Your mouth opens to respond but the only thing that comes out is a moan when he chooses that exact moment to push all the way into you.

The feeling is otherworldly. It’s a stretch you’ve never felt and it’s got your legs turning to jelly and your face crumpling just on the line between pleasure and pain. You search for Steve’s face again in the mirror like a tether in a storm and he looks as overwhelmed as you feel. His eyes are screwed shut and he’s biting his lip so hard you’re worried because you sure as fuck want to kiss those plush lips again.

“St-Steve…” you all but whimper. He finds you in the mirror and looks almost distraught.

“Sorry yeah I’ll move it’s just…fuck.”

The desperation in his tone is such a boost to your ego that it’s got you rocking back into him.

“Feels good, Steve.” It comes out in practically a slur, but it seems music to his ears with the way he leans forward, gripping your waist and pulling out inch by inch.

“Feels incredible,” he contradicts before slamming back in. The suddenness of the movement has you clenching around him with surprise and he groans, fingers digging into your soft flesh. “Baby. Baby.”

Baby.

Not babe. Baby.

You hear the word ringing in your ears and your entire body reacts, letting him drive in even deeper somehow. It punches the air out of your lungs and you don’t let yourself think before responding.

“I like that.” It comes out in a rush. Steve huffs a laugh and starts finding a regular pace.

“You like that, huh? That the spot?”

“No,” you try responding but cut yourself off with a gasp. “I mean yeah, but no. I mean I…like you calling me baby.”

Steve’s eyes melt watching you. Saying sweet shit like that while taking his cock so well.

“Good. I wanna keep calling you baby,” he says quietly. 

Your gazes connect and you could swear your hearing cuts out. Time stops and everything in your view fades into fuzzy blurriness, leaving only room for him. Steve had slowed his thrusts, but as you focus on one another he renews his efforts. Not going faster, per se, but harder. Deeper. Your hands do what they can to keep you propped up against the wall, but soon your cheek is mashed against the mirror. You’re completely unable to stop the momentum of his thrusts from driving you forward with each upswing. 

“Defeats the purpose - fuck! Of the mirror if you’re not watching the show, baby,” Steve grunts out after a few minutes. Sweat has begun beading on his forehead and he’s losing patience with the distance between you. He’s enjoying fucking you from behind - it’s usually his favorite way of fucking - but there’s something missing. Before long he’s pulling out, much to your vocal protestation, and hauling you over to your long empty bed. 

“Wanna do this now,” he says as explanation. You don’t care. All you care about is the relief you feel when he sinks back into you. He has you on your back now, knees pushed up to your ribs. But you do care when everything comes into focus and you realize his face is right there. And the weight of his body is on you and around you and suddenly you need nothing more on this earth than to kiss him. 

So you do.

Steve hums into your mouth when you lurch up to press it to his. Your tongues fight for dominance and a line of saliva connects you when you finally part enough to pant for much needed air.

“Holy shit, Steve. Fuck!” You slam your head back down against the pillow, doing your best to lift your hips to meet each of his thrusts.

“I’m kinda mad we haven’t been doing this all along,” Steve admits with a grunting laugh.

“We were friends,” you reason, bucking against him when his fingers find your clit again. with the way he has you folded in half, the added stimulation has you rocketing towards orgasm at a breakneck pace.

“Aha, ‘were?’ So we’re not friends anymore?” Steve asks.

“How many friends have you been inside?” you ask, but then your eyes widen. “Never mind, I don’t want to know the answer to that.”

Steve barks out a laugh, shaking his head before pressing his forehead to yours.

“Only you, baby,” he says good-naturedly. “Don’t think I can settle for just friends now, though.”

“No?” you ask absently. You’re beginning to ascend and losing yourself in the feeling. He can tell by the way you’re beginning to spasm irregularly around him.

“No, I need the whole sexy package,” he teases. You hear even more than before at the implication. That he might want all of you, and for more than just this, in this moment. You bite your lip and don’t say anything but his lips find your throat and you whimper. Steve sounds impatient when he speaks again. “Tell me you want me, too.”

You blink up at the ceiling and sputter.

“Wh-what?”

Steve pulls back, his thrusts slowing to a roll. He looks a little more tense. A little more vulnerable.

“You’re not the only one who needs to hear it, you know.”

You almost laugh at that but swallow it when you see he’s serious.

“Of course I want you,” you respond firmly. “Obviously.”

“It’s not obvious to me…” he mutters, dropping eye contact. You crane your neck to follow him.

“Steve, you’re hot as fuck - ,”

“That’s not -,” he tries to cut you off dismissively but you continue over him.

“AND you’re my best friend. I love being with you. In any way.” You roll your pelvis and look shyly up at him when he meets your gaze again. “But I’ve been wanting this way the most.”

Steve perks up, his hand grabbing yours.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“You wanted this?”

“Since that first time we spoke at Scoops Ahoy,” you confess. Steve’s thrusts come in faster now so your breathing picks up again. He snorts indignantly.

“I asked you out that day! You turned me down!”

“Well yeah, cuz I thought you were still a dick back then, Steve,” you reply with a massive smile. “We’ve been over this. Oh god…”

“You like this dick now, though, don’t you baby,” he intones, nothing but smooth Harrington charm. You don’t have it in you anymore to laugh or disagree.

“Mmmmhm…”

“You know you’re beautiful, right?” You seem just fucked out enough at this point that you finally won’t protest and he’s right. Your head lolls around on the pillow and you blink up at him dumbly. Steve takes in the bouncing of your breasts and the way your curves jiggle with each impact and he swears under his breath. “Gonna remind you how beautiful you are till you believe me, baby.”

He drives himself in all the way to hilt, holding himself there deep inside you till you’re clawing at him and clinging to him, moaning around gasps. Steve’s huge, but even better than that is the fact that he knows what to do with it. You ache with the supreme stretch of him. Pulse around his throbbing length in a way that makes you dizzy while you look up at him with glassy eyes that show you’re at least kind of understanding the depth of what he’s saying to you.

Steve can’t even begin to comprehend how he was lucky enough to finally find himself in this position. With you beneath him, staring up at him as if he hung the moon and the stars rather than simply stating plain, painfully obvious facts. He sees the crease in your brow as you wrestle with all the emotion he’s making you feel, however, and he wants to ease it. There’s been enough agony tonight. Right now, all he wants you to feel is pleasure.

“Hey,” he whispers suddenly, leaning forward and nuzzling his nose against yours as his thrusts start up again. A hazy smile lights up your features.

“Hey,” you respond weakly.

“Still worried you’re not fuckable?” he teases. You huff a laugh that barely sounds like one because Steve chooses that moment to return his fingers to your clit, making you whimper.

“You seem to…mmm. You like…oh fuck…”

“Easy for you to say,” Steve chuckles, but the heat’s not lost on him either at this point. His face is screwed up in pleasure and the arm holding him up beside you is beginning to shake. He’s so fucking close, he just needs you to cum first because no matter the growth he’s gone through, he’s still King Steve and he’s gotta break you first for his ego, damn it.

Finally you whimper the magic words.

“Steve! Oh…’m so close…there…”

Steve knows what that means, so he changes nothing about what he’s doing, just focuses on doing it better. A deeper push against your sweet spot. A harder swirl against your clit.

“Come on, baby, c’mon,” he talks you through it and then you’re crashing over the edge. Seizing in his arms and clamping down on him in every way possible. Constricting your arms and legs around him. Pussy spasming and locking him in, making it hard to continue to steadily pull in and out.

The sudden onslaught of pressure has Steve toppling over soon after. He lets out a guttural grown and buries his face in your neck, his hips stuttering into yours as he spills into the condom. Though it accepts none of his cum, your pussy milks his pulsing cock for all its worth. His shuddering breath matches your own and you gasp and cling to one another as you slowly come back to earth.

It’s quiet for a few minutes in the aftermath. Aside from your combined slowing pants, of course. Steve’s face is still buried in your neck and it takes a while for you to regain feeling enough to recognize that he’s administering soft kisses to the skin there.

It all floods back into focus. The fact that you had been getting ready for a party (one that you were now astronomically late to). The insecurities you had exposed to your best friend. The insecurities your best friend had exposed to you.

You want to be worried about it. You want to feel stressed about what this will do to your friendship and about how he will look at you when he finally pulls back and sees you sweaty and disheveled and…and…and…

And Steve pulls back to give you the softest smile you’ve ever seen. And he’s sweaty. And disheveled. And luminous. Before you even realize it you’re stretching out your hand to touch his cheek. His eyes slide closed as he leans into your touch. Turns to press a kiss into your palm.

Your lip quivers and you do your best to swallow any of the negative self talk that had tried to bubble to the surface. When Steve’s eyelids float open again he sighs.

“I know you were thinking about it, but we’re not making it to that fucking party. I don’t care what you say.”

The laugh you let out is strangled. Rocketed right back to old times and the root of your teasing friendship. You go to swat at him and he grabs your wrist, nipping at the back of your hand.

“Hey, it’s your fault for being so sexy. Think I got my fill fucking you once? Not a chance, baby.”

His grin lights up the room. You manage to match it.

“Shut up, Harrington.”

~*~

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

Delicate

Luke Castellan x Reader

Summary: "Is it chill that you're in my head? / Cause I know that it’s delicate"

Warnings: Angst, death, major series spoilers for people who haven't finished the books

Word Count: 2.1k

Masterlist

Sometimes I wonder, when you sleep / Are you ever dreaming of me?

Luke could admit to himself he wanted his best friend. He had for a long time. In fact everyone could see it, except for her. She seemed blissfully unaware of any feelings Luke had to the point that it made him nervous she was doing it on purpose. But if he couldn’t have her, he’d take the next best thing of being her friend. As long as she was in his life.

It was supposed to be bonfire night but Luke and Y/M had snuck off to the beach. They lay next to each other, staring up at the stars. Well, she was looking up at the stars, Luke was looking at her. They talked for hours about nothing until she finally dozed off.

Given the strict rules about curfew, Luke hardly ever got to see his best friend’s peaceful expression as she slept. Her face relaxed, unburdened by the perils of being a demigod. And as the two oldest at camp, they had a lot of perils.

Luke reached out, stroking her hair. That elicited a content sigh from her and he wondered if she was aware it was him. He wondered if she thought about or dreamed about him nearly as much as he did her. He had an ever present fantasy of absolutely sweeping her off her feet in a moment of glory. One of his favorites was after he won capture the flag, he’d march right up to her, wrapping an arm around her waist and just kiss her.

But of course that would never happen so he kept it stashed in the back of his mind.

He let her sleep for a few more minutes before he finally woke her up. “Hey, you gotta get up or the harpies will get us,” he laughed softly, shaking her awake.

She groaned but opened her eyes nonetheless.

Sometimes when I look into your eyes / I pretend you're mine all the damn time

Her eyes. Luke could probably get lost in them forever. He didn’t even need to watch the stars. He’d much rather watch the reflection of them in her eyes.

Unfortunately, the moment was ruined by one of the Athena boys. “Oh, hey Luke. Um, I just came to find Y/N. Chiron said late curfew starts in five minutes.”

“Really?” she asked, sitting up. “How long was I asleep?”

Luke felt his face get hot. He actually had no idea, he had completely lost track of time while watching her. “Uh not long. I just didn’t want to wake you,” he tried to play it off smoothly.

She gave him a soft smile, her hand finding his knee. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to waste your night.”

“No, no, no,” he quickly corrected. “You’re never a waste of time.”

“So um,” the Athena boy cut in awkwardly. “You want me to walk you to your cabin, Y/N? It’s right across from mine.”

Luke felt a surge of possessiveness. This guy clearly liked her. But before she could answer, Luke did it for her. “We’ll head over in a few minutes but thanks,” he tried to dismiss him.

The boy looked discouraged but tried to play it off. “Oh- uh ok.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Y/N offered, feeling bad for him. He immediately brightened with a smile before retreating back to his cabin.

Luke hated that she always seemed to leave the door open for other guys. They had had numerous conversations about the boys that liked her so he knew she wasn’t doing it on purpose. She just felt bad outright rejecting them so her sugar coating often came across as a signal to try harder. He just wished he could make it clear to them she was taken. Of course, she wasn’t his (yet).

Once Luke was sure he was out of earshot, he brought the topic up again. “He likes you.”

“No he doesn’t,” she immediately dismissed.

“Yes he does, and you trying to make him feel better about rejecting him doesn’t make it any better.”

“I didn’t reject him, you did.”

“Because I know you don’t like him.”

“Who says I don’t like him?” she shrugged.

Luke’s heart stopped. He had been playing defense so well for so long now that it hadn’t even occurred to him that she could like someone else. “What?”

She just shrugged again. “Who’s to say I don’t like him? You chased him away before I could get a word in.”

“D-do you like him?” Luke’s heart was pounding in his chest.

“No, but I’m just saying-”

“Gods, Y/N!” Luke interrupted in relief. “Don’t scare me like that.”

A satisfied look crossed over her face. “Why is that scary?”

He sent her a playful glare. “You know.”

“Tell me,” she pressed.

Is it cool that I said all that? / Is it chill that you're in my head?

Luke’s heart was pounding in his chest. She had basically already confirmed she was into him but the fear still lingered in his chest. He just had to say the words and he’d have his fantasy. She’d be his.

“I like you, Y/N. I have for a long time. I was just always scared you’d… I don’t know, reject me. Or think I was being stupid. But I like you.” Luke looked at her nervously, unsure of what she’d say. His heart was still pounding even when she leaned over and kissed him. As she tried to pull away for air, Luke’s hands found their way to her face, keeping her close. “I’m not done yet,” he mumbled against her lips, eliciting a giggle.

Long night with your hands up in my hair / Echoes of your footsteps on the stairs

That night Luke really didn’t want to leave her but Y/N wasn’t willing to break the rules just yet. He had spent the entire walk back to the cabins trying to convince her to sneak into the Hermes cabin. “Please, I swear no one will snitch on you.”

She laughed, intertwining her fingers into his. “Well what about my siblings when they see I’m not in bed? What will the children think?” By now they reached Cabin 7.

“The children can think whatever they want,” Luke smiled, pressing a kiss to her lips. It was late but several campers were still awake. Word of the couple would spread like wildfire and by the morning, even Chiron would know about the new couple.

But spending every night separately wouldn’t last for long. Y/N normally spent the evenings in the Hermes cabin where they had somehow managed to smuggle many forbidden things in. Like video games and junk food. And every night when the conch blew, signaling that curfew was soon, Luke begged her to stay. “Come on, no one will tell. Will you?” he asked his siblings.

That received a resounding “No!” swearing they’d keep our secret. She looked around the room, her resolve crumbling after weeks of this. “Fine,” she agreed. So many cheers erupted you’d think she just agreed to marry him. “But!” she waited for them to quiet down, “I’m still a counselor and I have to make sure everyone else is in bed.” Luke pouted but let her go nonetheless, promising to drag her back to Cabin 11 if she didn’t come back.

So after putting all the younger kids to bed, Y/N snuck back to Cabin 11. She found it dark but made her way to Luke’s bed. As she reached it, Luke could recognize the outline of her created by the moonlight. “Finally, I was just about to come break down your door.”

“Ha ha,” she laughed sarcastically. “Scoot over,” Luke obliged, sliding against the wall to create room. She slipped under the covers, settling against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, embracing her tightly, his face buried in her hair.

“‘M glad you’re staying,” he mumbled. “Feel like it’s easier to fall asleep when you’re with me.” He didn’t say it out loud but he liked having the assurance that she was safe in his arms as they slept.

“Me too,” she mused, her eyes already closed. “But I’ll say you kidnapped me if we get caught.”

“Okay,” Luke chucked. “You can blame me.”

My reputation's never been worse, so / You must like me for me

But those nights were gone now. Luke made his choice but so did she.

“Isn’t it messed up how the gods neglect their kids?” Luke asked as casually as possible, staring out at sea, his fingers tracing the dock.

“Yeah,” she mused. “Can you imagine being an omnipotent, immortal being but you can’t even take the time to tell your kid they belong to you? I mean, Apollo’s been pretty good about it but the others…?”

The pressure in Luke’s chest lessened as she more or less agreed with him. “Or how they treat us as disposable puppets? Like pawns?” He watched her face carefully as she considered it.

“What do you mean?”

Here we go. Luke began chipping at any remaining loyalty she had to the gods. “Well think about it. Thalia? Her godly parents could have saved her. Every demigod who died? Their parent could have saved them. My quest was a joke. All Hermes wanted me to do was repeat one of Heracles’ labors.”

She looked deep in thought. “I guess but why are you asking me about this?”

He took a deep breath before lacing his fingers in hers. “I’ve been uh… talking to someone.” She didn’t say anything but her furrowed brow urged him to continue. “I’ve been told that things don’t have to be the way they are. We don’t have to wait around until we’re killed. The Titan Lord could restore-”

“Shut up right now!” her frightened voice cut him off. She pulled her legs out of the water, shifting her sitting position to face him directly. “Luke! What- how- why are you doing this? So what if you can’t rely on the gods? You certainly can’t trust Kronos anymore.”

He gently grasped her hands. “Y/N, he promised every demigod that joins him immortality and safety. We wouldn’t have to cower in a summer camp with children who most likely won’t make it to their 18th birthdays. Please, come with me.”

She shook her head. “I can’t.” That broke his heart. “Luke, I love you. I really do. But I can’t let you go down this path.”

Through his internal struggle with Kronos, Luke could see Y/N staring at him, pain in her eyes. He gripped Annabeth’s knife tightly, saying a silent goodbye to everyone he loved and a curse to Kronos. “I love you,” he tried to say to her but it came out strained. The blade sunk into his only vulnerable spot under his arm—his Achilles heel.

“No!” he heard her yell. But he was already on the ground, beginning to lose consciousness at the fatal blow. But Y/N was kneeling over him, tears leaving tracks on her dirty face. “No, no, no,” she mumbled. “Why, Luke?” she practically screamed in frustration.

He reached up, wiping her tears and some dirt from her face. “Do you still love me? After everything I did?”

“Of course I love you!” she cried. “I never stopped.”

Despite the pain, he was smiling. “I love you too. I’ll see you in Elysium.”

She nodded, trying to smile too but the sobs were clawing their way of her throat. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Not too soon,” he insisted. “I love you, Y/N.”

Masterlist

[star-girl69]

Music To Watch Girls To

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader

—-

sypnosis: is it wrong to be obsessed with clarisse? obviously not!!

a/n: i cant just write a drabble what is wrong w me it’s always gotta be a full fledged fic damn anyways i don’t like this one that much so don’t crucify me, but i hope you all enjoy!!

Music To Watch Boys To - Lana Del Rey

warnings: FRIENDS TO LOVERS GOOD LORD, all clarisse know is be mean to her friends, like girls, and lie, reader is a little insane this time…., it’s not watching clarisse train bc i got struck with inspo but you all will like it dw, there’s still muscles and watching clarisse fight, swearing, violence, mentions of weapons, reader is an honorary ares cabin member bc i think it’s cute and i do what i want, y/n gets hurt like 20 times ITS FOR THE PLOT OK, kissing!!!!, like angst for half a sec not rly tho, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

The only word you think of when you think of Clarisse is fuck.

It describes your feelings about her so accurately. The first time you saw her, you knew you had to have this girl. And the first time you heard her talk, she was calling some Hephaestus kid a dumbass for not fixing a dent in her armor correctly.

She was an asshole, a bully, whatever, and she was also the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. But, thank the Gods you became close friends with her brother Matty, and then Carrie, and then you practically knew everyone in the Ares cabin like your own siblings.

Even just friendship with Ares kids is an intense rollercoaster.

They admired your for your deadly skill with a bow, a few of them even openly claiming you were probably the best at camp. They were loyal and fierce, protective, funny and everything you could want in a replacement family. Your mortal parent went down a dark road after your godly parent went back to Olympus, and you had never felt that love that everyone craved.

Clarisse hated you at first, like she does everyone, until one day at the bonfire you were sitting with her and a few of her siblings, the fire was hot and it was never the same. You still remember her eyes on you, feeling intoxicated under the moon. Besides, the nights are made for secrets.

And it became a tradition.

You would look at each other next to the fire, and never speak of it again.

The rest of the time, she was like any friend. That same loyalty, focus, but sometimes you could swear she seemed to look a little longer.

After the arrival of Percy Jackson, Clarisse was especially on edge. She was supposed to be training, but she was instead sulking and ranting to Matty and Carrie.

“And he really thinks he killed that Minotaur? Doesn’t matter. That’s what everyone else thinks.”

“Talking about the new kid?” you ask, sitting on top of the picnic table next to their cabin.

“Oh, yeah,” Carrie mumbles. “Talking all about the new kid.”

Clarisse stops her angry pacing to send her a harsh glare.

“He’s just a baby, Clarisse.”

She slams her hand down on the table next to you, pointing her finger in your face.

“He’s a liar,” she hisses. “I’m gonna make him admit it.”

“Hm, okay,” you say, pressing her foot against her stomach and pushing her back. “And that’s totally logical. But have you considered that he actually killed the Minotaur?”

“I’ll punch you.”

“Oh, you love me, Clarisse,” you smile, sweeping your arms out in a big circle. “I’m the brightest part of your day.”

She glares at you.

Matty coughs to hide a laugh.

“Just ignore him!” you say. “I don’t get why you’re so obsessed over him anyways.”

“I’m not explaining myself to you,” she huffs, stubborn as ever.

“Okay, Clarisse,” you say, drawing out the words.

You miss Carrie and Matty shooting each other looks.

—-

Chiron announces the next capture the flag game later that day, and the next morning you’re heading off to the Ares cabin with your bow and armor in tow.

You walk in. They’re all adjusting their armor, polishing their weapons. A few smile at you and wave, but you head straight towards the back. Clarisse is there, helping some of her younger siblings pick out weapons from the secret weapons stash the Ares kids have curated over the years.

It’s Danny’s first game. He’s only twelve.

She looks up at you for a moment, which is about as much acknowledgment as you’re gonna get. You sit at the end of someone’s empty bed, right next to Danny.

“How you feelin’?” you ask. His face is twisted into a stone cold mask.

“Excited,” he says, like he practiced it in the mirror.

“Well, I’m scared.”

He looks at you and frowns.

“You’re the best archer in camp. Matty says so.”

You shrug. “I may be the best archer, but I’m nowhere near the best fighter.”

He nods, thinking hard like the whole world is suddenly starting to make sense.

“Hey, if I promise to keep a look out for you from the trees- will you watch out for me on the ground?”

He doesn’t need your assurance. He’s a child of Ares, they’re prebuilt with the lust for battle. But you know how to play all of them like a fiddle. They like feeling important, and he’s only twelve. It doesn’t hurt you to give this to him.

You stick out your hand and he grabs it.

“Deal.”

“Deal.”

“Y/N,” Clarisse says. You realize she’s been standing there for a while. “Are you here to distract everyone or for a reason?”

“You know, I would welcome you into my cabin warmly.”

Her face remains stone cold. Danny runs off. Clarisse can be some sort of halfway nice, but rarely, and most of the time everyone just knows her cruel words, her ruthless tactics in battle, and her misleading words and smiles.

“You’re no fun,” you pout.

“You’re the one who sticks around. No one’s holding you hostage- you can leave.”

“I need a dagger.”

“Oh,” she says, blinking. “Wow, you actually came here for something? What happened to yours?”

“Broke,” you shrug. “The handle fell off. Weird, whatever.”

She hums, looking through the daggers hung on the wall. “This one.”

She hands it to you. It’s similar to your old dagger, except a lot sharper and a lot more sturdy. But it’s the same style you’re used to. You wonder if she knows that or not- Ares kids do notice everything.

But for Clarisse to actually do something like that with intention is rare.

“I like it,” you say. “Thanks!”

She hesitates for a second.

“Keep it.”

You look at her. “I can give it back.”

“I already told you to keep it. Don’t be pathetic and make me reassure you.”

“Okay, Clarisse,” you roll your eyes.

—-

Your position on capture the flag is always the same.

Carrie, Matty and Clarisse hunt in the woods on the ground, and you get thrown up into some random tree to shoot arrows at anyone you see.

The idea is, they see the arrow coming from up above and look to the trees, only for Clarisse, Matty and Carrie to ambush them on the ground.

It’s only the third game you’ve employed this tactic, so the blue team is starting to catch on.

After Chiron gives his speech you could probably say yourself, you head over to the three of them, holding your arm out to Matty and the red bandana. He ties it around without saying a word, Carrie reaches over and scolds you for not tying your armor tight enough.

“Blah, blah, blah,” you say. “I’ll live.”

“Yeah,” Carrie snorts. “Because I fixed it.”

“Shush,” Clarisse hisses. She finishes talking to a few more of her siblings, and they take their companies off into the woods. She turns back around. “I have a different plan today.”

Carrie and Matty grin dangerously.

There’s something in between the three of them, some sort of matching glint in their eyes.

“Okay, did I miss something? Why are you guys being so… scary?”

“You’ll see,” Clarisse says, her eyes dark.

Gods, it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

—-

The great thing about being up in the trees is you get to see everything.

You get to see the way Clarisse grins while she fights, the way she whips her spear around like it weights nothing, the way sweat forms at her brow- and the way her muscles flex. That’s the best part.

Her arms, her legs, her stomach, every part of Clarisse is just lean and toned muscle.

It makes you want to betray yourself in a way that would permanently embarrass you.

You follow them, of course, even though you have no idea what the hell is happening or what the plan is. There’s a reason she’s not telling you the plan. Why?

When you walk past the woods where you normally hunt, you start getting fidgety.

“Ok, guys, seriously. Tell me what’s going on.”

You realize you’re heading towards the side of the big hill, starting the climb up through the trees and rocks.

Clarisse turns around.

“Stop. Worrying.”

You grit your teeth. “I’m not worried. I’m just confused.”

She sighs, signaling to Carrie and Matty.

“You know,” she mutters. And they leave, so it’s just the two of you.

They spit up, making their way on the farthest two ends, all leading to the same ledge.

She grabs your wrists. “Stop cracking your fingers. It’s annoying, and you’ll hurt ‘em.”

“Then tell me what’s going on.”

She lets go of one of your wrists, but keeps her tight grip on the other, forcing you to keep pace behind her.

“I’m not gonna tell you again, Y/N. Don’t worry. I’m not going to put you in danger, obviously.” She laughs, as if the idea is ridiculous. “You’re a damn good archer.”

“Oh, my Gods. Did you just compliment me?”

She tenses up, finally realizing she did it.

“D-don’t let it go to your head.”

“Oh, I won’t. It will just be our little secret, won’t it?”

You bite your lip as you smile so you don’t burst out laughing.

“Sure,” she mutters, and you don’t miss the way she stares at your lips. She clears her throat, finally letting go of your wrist. “Percy Jackson-”

“Who’s a baby.”

“-attacked us last night.”

You raise an eyebrow, walking next to her. “Did you attack him first?”

She doesn’t answer that.

“I doubted you would join us. I just didn’t want you to be alone in the woods.”

“Why?”

“Hm, I saw Annabeth as we left the bathrooms. She knows, she knows we’re gonna get revenge so Luke’s gonna go straight for the flag because we’re not in the woods.”

“So you’re just sacrificing the entire game for revenge? Against a 12-year-old?”

“Revenge,” she mutters, thinking over it. “That’s a fun word.”

She smiles, looking at you.

“Oh, Gods,” you mutter.

—-

The rest of the walk continues in silence, until you can see Carrie and Matty in the distance, both waiting for Clarisse’s signal. She grins.

“Now, why don’t you just stay behind me and draw an arrow, and tell me if anyone’s coming. And when he’s distracted, you’ll sneak around behind him and block him from escaping, hm?”

You look around the forest. “Okay. But, Clarisse-”

She smacks her hand over your face. “I don’t need your morality right now. I just need you to keep those pretty eyes open and be our lookout.”

“Fine,” you hiss as you throw your hand off her mouth.

“Thank you,” she smiles, sarcastically. “Was that so hard?”

You mock her under your breath, but she signals to Carrie and Matty. They all start walking forward, trying for stealth, but your feet make sink into the gravel. He hears them. He sits up.

You don’t know anything about Percy Jackson, except for the fact he supposedly attacked the three musketeers you call your friends and possibly killed a Minotaur.

True to your word, you stay behind Clarisse, watching as she lifts her helmet off, throwing it to the ground.

Her spear sinks into the dirt.

“Flag’s that way,” Percy says. “It’s not here.”

“We know.”

You start walking out from behind her. His eyes flick between all four of you.

“Yeah, glory’s fine.” You can feel her eyes on you. “Revenge is more fun.”

She looks up at her spear, slamming it down, and you hear the familiar crackle as it lights up. Red hot electricity.

She laughs a bit.

He scrambles for his sword and spear, forgoing his helmet. They close him in. You walk around Carrie and behind him. His eyes move between you and Clarisse, but there’s nothing he can do to stop the four of you from surrounding him.

“No maiming. It’s like the one rule.”

His stance isn’t even close to correct.

“Yeah, I guess I’ll lose dessert privileges for a while,” she fake frets, looking up at her spear. She smiles and looks back at him. “I’ll live.”

Her face twists into a mask of focus and she swings out at him. He manages to dodge her first hit, and block the second with his shield.

She looks at Carrie and Matty. They lunge forward, attacking him together, and he certainly is a demigod- he has a natural talent.

But you can only really focus on the way she lifts her spear back over her head.

She grunts and spins, shocking him, before jabbing forward at his armor, making him fall back over the log he used to be laying on, right at your feet.

“I’m actually not interested in maiming or killing you, believe it or not,” she says, standing over him. “I just want you to admit you’re a fraud. It’d make me feel better. Are you feeling up to that yet?”

The way she holds her spear, the way she says it’ll make her feel better- you miss the way he swings out with his shield, hitting you in the shins.

“Fuck,” you hiss, leaning down to touch your burning leg. “Oh, fuck, that hurt.”

Percy grunts and takes off running.

“Y/N,” Matty says, a silent question in his concerned voice.

“I’m fine,” you mumble, shaking your leg out.

Clarisse glares at his retreating figure.

“I guess he has a fucking death wish,” she whispers, voice full of a deadly promise.

She grunts and launches herself over the log, Carrie and Matty following. You straighten yourself and take off running after them. You leg does burn, but you still manage to keep pace. Besides, Matty is already far ahead, surprising him and knocking him down from the path, making him tumble through the woods and land on the beach.

Matty and Carrie wave their swords at him from the right. He pants and breathes heavily, backing up, but when he turns around to run- Clarisse is there.

You draw your bow again, out of habit.

The arrows you use aren’t actual arrows of course, but filed down to little circle rocks at the end. They won’t kill you, but they fucking hurt.

You can’t help but giggle as he falls onto his back, scared just by Clarisse being there.

She laughs too, before all three of them launch into an attack.

They push him back, towards you, and you step back with them, waiting for the perfect moment.

But your eyes drift up to Clarisse. She’s hanging back for just a second while Matty and Carrie jab at him. She looks… proud. She looks really fucking proud that you’re laughing at this 12-year-olds misery.

But Clarisse was right. Revenge is fun. And you hate it, but you can’t stop it.

You smile back at her, and it’s like those nights at the bonfire, you know you’ll never speak of it again. It doesn’t matter. Right now, there’s angelic music playing in your head, and you’re watching her. You’re watching her, the sweat on her brow, the way her hands clasp her spear.

Her face twists into something else.

“Y/N!” she shouts, but Carrie and Matty pushed him too far, you didn’t move back enough- distracted by her- and you slam into each other, a tangle of limbs and metal.

He does this awkward sort of flip over you, landing a few feet behind you. You drop your bow in favor of catching yourself, and it gets caught on his shield and dragged along with him.

It’s a blur, you yelp as you go down, Percy groans.

They’re all standing there, tense and watching the way Percy stands up with your bow in his hands. His stance is nowhere near correct, it actually makes you cringe more than your bruised side after the fall.

Why the hell are you the one who keeps getting hurt?

Percy let’s out a breath. “Why don’t we all just walk away and forget this happened?”

“You just made that impossible,” Clarisse hisses.

You just want to get an ice pack on your leg and sit down. You’re tired. You want to boss Clarisse around as payment for bringing you here.

“Okay, okay, just stop. This is stupid, all of you. He’s, like, 12. He didn’t do it on purpose, you’re just attacking him for no reason.” Carrie and Matty look at the ground. Clarisse glares at you.

You turn around and face Percy. “Just go, okay.”

He looks between you and Clarisse.

“O-okay,” he breathes.

You can feel her move, hear her footsteps in the sand, her spear cutting through the wind. She comes around you, and Percy gets scared, so he raises up the bow and let’s it go- pointed straight at her face.

But it never hits her. It hits you, of course, because you have the worst luck in the world.

It hits you right in the chest, and it doesn’t kill you, but Percy is strong and it knocks the wind out of you.

Clarisse throws her spear to the ground and catches you, screaming your name at the top of her lungs.

Gods, this was so stupid. All of it. He didn’t mean to hurt you, he meant to stop her from attacking him. Because Clarisse is bloodthirsty. She cares about no one else but herself.

You were stupid to think she ever did.

But even through all of this, everyone treating you like a rag doll, you stare into Clarisse’s eyes. She’s frozen. She’s watching the rapid rise and fall of your chest, she’s watching the way you press your hand into your chest, trying to breathe, she’s looking at the fear in your eyes.

You’re terrified. And Clarisse looks the exact same way you feel.

You mouth her name.

Carrie and Matty are gathered around you, telling you to just breathe, take a breath in, but you can’t.

Clarisse let’s go of you and ignores your hands trying to hold her back, ignores Carrie warning her.

Oh, Gods, you’re in love with her and she’s just your friend, but it all hurts and you just need her right now.

Percy tries to scramble away from what he’s done, but Clarisse grabs him by his shirt and holds him up.

You think she’s actually going to kill him- then the conch sounds.

You all turn around.

The blue team runs to the beach, sticking the red flag into the ground. They all cheer loudly, Luke and Chris at the center of it.

Clarisse throws Percy back down on the ground.

She picks up your bow. Matty helps you stand up, you can breathe now, and you’re really fine. You just couldn’t for a minute. You don’t look at Clarisse, even though you want to.

—-

The four of you end up at the sword practice field, sitting on picnic tables like you did that one day.

Matty touches a few scratches on his arms from where he burst through the woods, scraping himself on something thorny.

Clarisse walks towards a dummy and starts attacking it. She lets all her anger out on it. They didn’t win, and her revenge is incomplete so, its not even worth it. You could have told her that from the beginning, but whatever.

Clarisse can do whatever she wants. She doesn’t listen to you, she doesn’t care about you- not as much as you want her too. Not as much as you care about her.

She’s so wonderfully in her element it makes you want her more. This is where she belongs, in the field in the sun, with her spear in her hands. She belongs here, where she feels closest to her father and farthest away from her responsibilities, from the constant battle it is for her to keep her emotions in check.

Even after a minute of her obliterating the dummy, she seems better. Finally, after another minute, she slows down until she stops.

You don’t stop looking at her until she turns around and looks at you. She breathes out.

“Are you okay?” she asks, sitting down on the opposite end of the bench.

“Fine. Just got the wind knocked out of me.”

She hums.

“C’mon, Matty,” Carrie says. “Let’s go back to the cabin, I’m thirsty.”

You’re not ready to get up yet, you’re too comfortable here on the bench, it’s too easy to breathe in the valley.

Clarisse flexes, stretching her spear over her head, and you watch her. Of course you watch her. You don’t think you’ll ever just be able to look at her in passing- you’ll always have to focused, you’ve always have to have your eyes totally and completely on her.

Like she’s some book you have to study. Like she’s all you’ve ever wanted to look at.

“Stop staring at me, weirdo,” she mumbles.

You sit up straighter. “I’m not. You’re just flexing dramatically all over the place, of course I’m gonna take notice of it.”

“Okay, sure,” she taunts, and you remember what happened, you remember how you felt when she walked away from you to continue with her revenge.

“I-I’m gonna go back to my cabin.” You don’t wanna be around her, not right now at least. “See you later, Clarisse.”

She stands up immediately. “I’ll walk you.”

“No, thanks, it’s fine.”

“Y/N, you got hurt because of me.” She crouches down and tugs up your pant leg. “How’s your leg? Your side?”

Matty, Carrie and Clarisse too, sometimes, are always touching you and doing things for you. It’s sweet. They aren’t good with the words, but they show you they love you, and that means more than anything else.

If she hadn’t done what she did, if she really cared about you, then you wouldn’t mind her touching you like this. You would love it.

“Clarisse- get off of me,” you shake your leg out, which hurts a bit, but she lets go and stands up.

Her face twists into one of anger, her fists clenched.

“I’m sorry, okay. I’m sorry you got hurt. I feel really bad about it, so just let me do this for you.”

“It’s not about that,” you mumble, cursing yourself and hoping she doesn’t hear you. Of course she does.

“Then what’s it about?”

You try to turn away, but she clamps her around your wrist and tugs you back towards her.

“What’s it about, Y/N?”

She holds your hand to her chest.

You both know what it’s about.

“Just stop, Clarisse,” but your body betrays you and you make no move to push her away. She notices, of course she notices, and she pulls you closer. “We’ve been dancing around each other for months.”

She blinks and her grip on your wrist loosens.

“And it was fun. It was a fun game, okay, Clarisse. But you can stop playing it now. You showed me today that your care more about yourself then you ever could me. I’m sick of it.” You tug your hand away. “I’m so sick of it, Clarisse.”

She grips you tighter again.

“What the hell are you talking about? I’m running around looking like a fool, and you think I care about myself? You think I don’t care about you?”

Your breath is a little shaky again.

“You could have helped me and you chose revenge.”

“For you.”

“What?”

“He slammed his shield into your leg, knocked you over, and then shot you in the chest. Of course I wanted revenge. Not for me, it was about that at first, but then, Gods, did you do something to him?”

You laugh. She smiles, staring at your face like she’s seeing you for the first time.

“Like, he just kept coming after you, I don’t get it. But I… I like you. Like, like you. And I don’t know what that means, but I don’t really care. I just… want you. I want to be near you all the time. And I go crazy when you’re with someone else. I want to touch you all the time, hug you, hold you… I want to kiss you so bad I think I’m gonna fucking explode.”

Fuck is always the first word you think of when you think of her. It used to be because she made you so angry with the secrets, but now it’s just the things the says make you wonder how much more you can fall in love with her.

“Well, I don’t really want you to explode,” you roll your eyes. “That’d be too messy. Besides, I-”

“You’re always such a fucking worrier.”

She plants her hands on your face and presses her lips to yours. You can feel the slight desperateness she won’t say, but she’ll tell you with her body. You can feel everything she won’t show, won’t say. How beautiful you are. How scared she was. How much she wanted you and for how long.

You feel it all just by her lips, and you can’t help but wonder what more she can tell you.

She pulls back and smiles.

“If you tell anyone about this, I’ll deny it.”

“I’m the light of your life, Clarisse.”

“Yeah,” she agrees, grabbing you tighter and kissing you again. You grab onto her arms, smiling. You always wondered what he muscles would feel like against you.

There’s only one word to describe the way it feels.

Fuck.

—-

clarisse when she accidentally told y/n she has pretty eyes: PLEASE DONT NOTICE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

y/n my ladybug not noticing: 🧍‍♀️

—-

y/n and clarisse just being insane together WDYM YOURE LAUGHING WHEN A KID FALLS OVER STOP

—-

clarisse: bitch stop WORRYING

y/n: WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT FROM ME SHUT UP

—-

clarisse and y/n both pretending that clarisse giving her a dagger wasnt literally a declaration of love and also clarisse throwing her spear down to catch y/n???? bitch she’s in LOVE

—-

taglist:

@jazhandzzz

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Using Safe Words - Metallica pt.1

A/n: Basically just scenario's where a safe word is used and how Metallica members would react. This is only James, Lars and Kirk, if you'd like to the bassists or other bands even let me know :3

Link to part 2

Warnings: Smut, angst, use of a safe word, rough sex, sex toys, if you think you won't be comfortable reading that that's fine protect yourself before reading content :3 Also, if there's anything you think I missed let me know!

James had you bent in half on the couch. He had had a rough day at the studio, everyone was just on his ass and in his face and it was driving him crazy, so when he got home you offered to help him destress. Only you hadn’t anticipated this...

Don’t get me wrong, James was always on the rougher side of things but this was pushing it. He’d been manhandling you and pulling more orgasms out of you than your body could take at this point. It didn’t matter how sensitive you were, how weak or overstimulated you were, James just didn’t stop and your begs and pleads only seemed to fuel his need for dominance.

His hips were slamming against your at an unholy as he held your knees to your chest. “Fuck, pretty little slut, barely keeping your eyes open?” Your eyes were rolling back, your brain was practically useless at this point and you were shaking uncontrollably underneath James. James slapped you across the face, hard. You cried out but he didn’t care and did it again. “Fucking look at me when I’m railing you.” He ordered.

“Ja-Jamie, Jamie, please!” You sobbed, tears streaming down your red face. “Can’t-can’t take it, please!”

“Whiny whore.” He groaned, slapping you again. You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Pumpkin.” You sputtered, your voice was weak and he barely heard it. James laughed and stared down at your weak form.

“What was that? Gotta speak up, bitch.”

“Pum-pumpkin, please, pumpkin!” You sobbed, tossing and turning. James froze, any cold demeanour he had vanished in an instant.

“What was that?” He asked, his voice now basically a whisper. You didn’t respond and just continued sobbing. James slowly pulled out and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you onto his lap. “Baby, I’m so sorry.” He littered kisses all over your face, soft and gentle ones. He wiped the tears from your eyes and held you close. “I’m so, so sorry, love, how about I run you a nice warm bath, yeah? Then we can watch a movie or something, how does that sound?” You gave a small nod and he carried you to the bathroom.

He never let go of you while he got the bath ready, sprinkling in smelling salts, lighting a few candles and even adding in rose petals. Fake ones he was saving for a special occasion but he felt you needed them now more than anything.

“Do you want me to get leave?” He asked once he got you in the tub. You shook your head.

“Just-just hold me.” Your voice was still shaky as you mumbled. “Please.” James smiled and got in with you, pulling you close to his chest. He continued to whisper praises and apologise in your ear, pressing soft kisses all over your face and asking if you’re ok.

Lars was always a dick. He’d refuse to let you cum or make you cum so much you couldn’t remember your own name. Then there’d be times when he would only focus on his own pleasure and completely disregard whether you finished or not. Usually, this was just to annoy you, rile you up and what not, plus there’d always be days when he was just perfect for you, making sure everything was just right. He’d have his moments, for sure.

Today was nothing like anything he’s put you through. He’d just come back from a tour with Metallica and said he was all pent up. Of course you understood, you’d been feeling just the same, and so you ended up in the bedroom.

Your wrists and ankles were tied to the bedposts. Lars had two vibrators in either of your holes, with one perfectly pressed against your clit. Lars was pistoning himself in and out of your mouth, not caring if you could breathe or not. You were gagging, not necessarily because of him but just because you needed air, he didn’t care either way, he just enjoyed the noises coming from you like sweet music to his ears.

“Fuck, so good for me.” Lars moaned out, throwing his head back in pleasure. Your whole body was hot and tight, not in the usual way. The high speed vibrations, the stretch you never welcomed, Lars standing over you and being unable to even try to move through all of it just made everything hurt. Painful, is what it was.

You tried to choke something out but the words couldn’t form around Lars. “Oh, I’m sorry, what was that?” He asked with a grin, pulling out enough for you to talk.

“Please, just-” You didn’t get a chance to finish as Lars slammed himself right back past your lips. Again you gagged while he cackled above you. You pulled and thrashed against the restraints but every move just made the feelings down below so much worse.

Lars pulled out again, still snickering. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, you wanna try again?” He asked, you knew he’d just do it again so you blurted out the only thing you thought could get him to stop.

“Pump-!” Again he cut you off. This time his laughter was short-lived when he processed what you were trying to say.

“Wait, what?” He asked, moving completely off of you. He held your face as he always did, caressing your cheek.

“Pumpkin, please, pumpkin!” You sobbed, writhing at the pain coursing through you. Lars immediately panicked, rushing to take everything off and out of your. As soon as you were able to, you pushed yourself to the corner of the bed, curling in on yourself as you cried, trying to forget what you just experienced.

Lars came up behind you, wrapping his arms around you tightly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think it was that bad.” His voice was soft and a little shaky. “I’m so sorry.”

“Why-why would you-would you do that to me?” You asked through quiet sobs. He shook his head, nuzzling against you.

“I didn’t-I don’t-I just-” He started and stopped his sentences before just giving up. “I’m so, so sorry, love.” He held you a little longer before getting up and walking out of the room. He returned a few minutes later with a cloth and started wiping you down. The cloth was coarse and rough against you. You snatched it out of his hand and started cleaning yourself off in a more delicate fashion. “I’m sorry, can I just-” He reached for it again but you turned away from him. He gave a small nod and went to the closet.

You watched him dig through the clothes, tears making your vision a little blurry and you couldn’t stop sniffling. Lars came back to you, standing beside the bed and holding out clothes for you to take. One of his band shirts and a pair of his sweats. You looked between him and the clothes in his hands for a moment before taking them and slowly getting them on. “My body hurts.” You muttered, voice shaky.

“I’m sorry.” He said again. “I can set up a movie for us? A bubble bath? Whatever you want.” You thought about it for a moment before giving a small nod.

“A movie sounds nice.” Lars smiled at you and rushed off to set up a movie for the two of you in the living room.

A few weeks ago Kirk had brought up the idea of having a threesome to which you immediately turned down, that was not up your alley at all. Kirk dropped it when he saw how much you disliked the idea and for a while you thought that was the end of it.

Kirk brought you on tour with him, it was just for a week for his birthday and you intended to spend as much time with him as you could during his special day. The two of you finally had some alone time in your hotel room and were watching a movie, he kept touching up your leg and teasing you a bit, so you decided to indulge and have some fun.

You were straddling his lap, your tongues exploring each other’s mouth as you interchanged moans and groans. Kirk’s hands were roaming your body, groping your ass. He’d have his hands on your hips and pull you down while grinding the tent in his pants against you, drawing more sounds out of the both of you.

Everything was fine until you heard a deep groan that didn’t sound anything like Kirk, plus it was coming from the other side of the room. You pulled away, Kirk went to kiss your neck, sucking and licking at the sensitive skin. You glanced over your shoulder and saw James in a chair not far away with his cock in his hand, slowly stroking it up and down.

Fear shot through you and you pushed yourself off of Kirk, looking between him and the lead singer. “What the fuck?!”

“What?” Kirk asked, looking genuinely concerned for you. “You said no threesome so I figured James could just watch.” He explained. You can hear it in his tone that he’s doubting the idea as he says it. You opened your mouth to say something but nothing came out. With no verbal disagreement Kirk leaned over to you again and kissed you. You slapped him. He didn’t look confused or hurt, just a little sad that he made you uncomfortable.

“Fucking pumpkin! I told you when you brought it up the first time, why would this be ok?!” He didn’t say anything and just looked down at the sheets. You scoffed and stormed out of the room and into the bathroom, taking a moment to breathe and just get yourself calmed down.

Several minutes pass and you hear a knock on the door. “Sweetheart?” Kirk called, his voice soft. “Can I, uh, can I come in?” You waited a moment before opening the door, holding yourself and pouting at him. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have told James that it was ok without talking about it with you.”

“You shouldn’t have even talked to him about it knowing that I wasn’t comfortable with stuff like that!” You argued. Kirk nodded and looked down again.

“Look, why don’t you take the bed and-and I’ll sleep in the tub.” He suggested, even taking a step around you to get to the small bath.

“Why would you do that?”

“I figured, you know, you wouldn’t want to share a bed with me after-” He paused and took a seat on the edge of the bath. “After that.” He sighed, running a hand over his face. “I’m sorry, it was really dumb, I promise it won’t happen again.” You nodded and sat beside him, resting your head on his shoulder.

“I still want you to sleep in bed with me.” You reached for his hand, intertwining your fingers together. “Sleep isn’t the same when I know I can’t steal your blankets.” You smiled up at him.

“I think I’d prefer the tub.” He chuckled. Kirk pulled you closer and kissed your forehead.

[hollybell51]

here me out. Adam Warlock and sex pollen.

It's ok - one

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Part two

Adam Warlock x AFAB!Reader

Marvel Cinematic Universe, Guardians of the Galaxy vol. 3 (outside canon)

Word count: 4.6K

Summary: foreign flora has an unexpected effect on your human physiology.

Content: sex pollen and associated DUBCON, fuck-or-die, smut, maybe very slight perviness (but I don't think it's creepy or really triggering), Adam being down bad, SMUT. Gratuitous smut. Non-explicit masturbation, handjobs (kinda), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, Adam's a virgin, reader isn't, bit on angst, unresolved, there will be part 2. Maybe some out of character-ness, but it's hard cause he only had like 10 minutes screen time so what I've written is based on my own interpretation and what I've read since I watched the movie

Notes: I hear you anon! I actually haven't done sex pollen before, though I always found it kinda fun, so this was new to me. I actually wrote a part 2 which I'll post with this, and that's much of the same xx. Also sorry I haven't done anything in ages, I've been super under the weather and busy so I haven't really had time lmao. Anyways, have fun with this!

“Hey, did you get through those notes?” Your voice echoed in the stillness of the forest, seeming to bounce off the lush petals of the giant flowers towering overhead. The local flora was all supersized, bigger than anything Adam had ever seen, and filtered the harsh light of the planet’s nearest star in sickly sweet hues of pinks, greens, yellows and even blue. 

“Breathable atmosphere, mostly docile wildlife. Predators are nocturnal.”

“Ok, just… How much longer are we gonna be out here?” 

Adam turned, letting the machete you’d armed him with – “bush bashing. Gotta learn those life skills, huh?” – hang by his side. You were panting, face flushed and beaded with sweat as you planted your hands on your hips and frowned at him. Even like this, speckled with bright yellow and orange pollen and clearly uncomfortable, Adam couldn’t ignore the odd swooping sensation in his gut. It was like someone was constantly pulling a rug from under his feet. 

He checked the time displayed on the tablet. “Two hours. Maybe less. Are you ok?” 

You groaned, but nodded and walked the few paces to stand beside him. “Goddamn flower dumped its load all over me. You sure this shit is breathable?” 

The atmosphere. Right, you were joking about the humidity. “If you don’t mind a bit of a steam,” he tried, smiling at the short bark of laughter the remark conjured. 

You tapped his machete-holding hand, jerking your head towards the wall of fleshy greenery. “Nice. Let’s just get this over with.” 

Adam simply nodded. The falling feeling had been replaced by something warm and sticky, the simple touch and your laugh flowing like syrup to sit low inside him. It had been like this for a while now, since he’d started really talking to you, spending time with you, noticing things about you. Like your hair, now dusted with fiery plant spores and stuck to your forehead, and how it caught the lights of Knowhere just right when you sat down beside him to eat. Or the little wrinkles around your eyes and mouth when you smiled – really smiled. The High Evolutionary had disliked wrinkles and other physical signs of ageing, viewed them as imperfect and a blight on existence. Adam could have stared at yours all day. 

“Can I see that?” 

Again, Adam stopped and turned. You were craning at the tablet, your hand absently running around the collar of your suit. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Just… It’s really hot. Do you feel that?” 

Adam shrugged. Temperature wasn’t a huge concern to him, but you looked truly uncomfortable now. “Humidity can often make it feel hotter than it is.” 

“I know, but…” You grimaced, pulling your collar down further and wriggling your shoulders. “I feel really hot. Worse than before.” 

Adam frowned. He knew humans were often sensitive to their environment, much more so than was practical, but you seemed more affected than you should be. There were places on Earth hotter than the current reading, you’d told him that, so why were you–?

The comm on his wrist buzzed, Rocket’s voice crackling across the emergency frequency. “Warlock? You copy?” 

“Yeah,” Adam replied, still watching you. You were taking a semi-restrained drink from your flask, no doubt aware that it had to last the whole trek and back. 

“Is (Y/N) with you?” 

“Yeah, why?” As he watched, you held the back of your hand up to your forehead, then your cheek, then your neck. The suit still seemed to be bothering you. 

“Are you on the ground?” 

“Yes.” 

“You need to get out of there.” 

Adam didn’t think he was imagining the urgency in the raccoon’s voice, distorted as it was over the distance. He was in an entirely different corner of the galaxy, after all. “Why? What’s wrong?” 

A pause, then, “The flowers, they’re… uh, they’re kinda…” 

“They are very powerful aphrodisiacs!” Ah, Kraglin, just as worried-sounding as Rocket. “They can be harmful to humans!” 

Your other hand had joined the first on your face, but it didn’t seem to be doing a lot. You’d managed to get the zipper on your suit down, the neck pulled down to expose your shoulders and collar bones, the skin there just as flushed as your face. 

“What?” 

Rocket groaned, but Kraglin either didn’t notice or didn’t care. “Aphrodisiacs,” he repeated. “If she breathes the pollen her body temperature will rise until she develops a fever, and if she doesn’t have sex she could die.” 

His entire (relatively short) life, Adam’s mother – and pretty much everyone else – had been more than generous in pointing out that he was lacking, that he was slower than he should be, that he was not up to the same speed as they were. It was because he’d left the cocoon early, he knew that, but he’d never really felt that much slower. Maybe a little, but he’d always understood where he’d gone wrong and why. This was totally different. For the first time, Adam felt like he was lagging behind. 

“What?” he asked again. “What do you mean if she doesn’t have sex she’ll die?” 

“Makes ya horny, genius. Means what exactly that. Fuck or die.” Rocket took over, clearing his throat. “I’m reading off the notes, bit further down. It’s small, so you might have missed it. It says it works normal for most species, but humans are more fragile so…” 

Yes, that made sense. Adam couldn’t remember that in what he’d read, but he’d also been distracted by your legs slung across his and the little wrinkle that had appeared between your brows as you’d carefully packed your bag, sliding everything perfectly into place. He’d wanted to just reach across and run his thumb over the line, smooth it away forever. 

Now, that same bag thudded as it hit the ground and you frantically fanned yourself, eyes closed. There was no telling if you’d heard the conversation, but Adam didn’t want to waste time finding out. 

“Ok, I’ll, uh, get her back to the ship.” 

“She ok?” 

He paused for a moment, then settled on, “yeah, she’ll be fine.” 

“You got this, golden boy.” The radio crackled and fell silent, and that was that. What a great help. 

“(Y/N)?” he ventured, picking up your pack. “Did you get all that?” 

You nodded, wriggling to get the zipper further undone. Your back was beaded with sweat, and in any other circumstance, maybe Adam would have let himself dwell more on the soft contours of your spine, the roll of your shoulder blades, the harsh line of your bra strap in contrast to your smooth skin. 

“I’m really… It’s so hot, holy shit. Why’s it gotta be so hot?” 

“I think that’s the fever bit. Come on, we should get back.” 

You drew a sharp breath when his hand met your back, your whole body tensing. 

Adam withdrew at light speed. “Sorry, I didn’t–” 

“No,” you cut him off, “no, it’s fine. I’m fine.” 

“Ok.” 

It couldn’t have been more than half an hour since you’d set out, but it felt like a long time to get back. You were slower, for one, stumbling and muttering apologies whenever you became disorientated – which was often – and wriggling like your clothes were full of insects. Your breath came heavy, your skin becoming more and more flushed as you drew closer to the ship, and you looked so uncomfortable it made something twist inside Adam. 

“I heard it,” you panted, stepping clumsily over a root. “What Kraglin said.” 

“Oh,” was all Adam could think of. 

“You don’t— You shouldn’t— You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” 

“Hey, no, it’s ok. You’ll be ok.” 

“I’m– fuck, Adam.” 

“You’ll be ok, (Y/N). We can sort this out.” 

“I don’t wanna force you to do anything–” 

How cruel could the Universe be? Adam wondered as he patted your shoulder – then regretted it when you stumbled. You were the first person he’d really wanted anything with, the first person he’d thought about and imagined and, dare he say it, fantasised about, and now you were worried you were going to somehow hurt him or make him do something he didn’t want to. It was sweet, bitterly so, and ironic enough to feel like a punch in the stomach. If anyone should be worried, it should be him. After all, how were you ever going to look at him the same way after this? How was he going to look at himself the same way?

“I’m so…” You broke off as you emerged into the clearing where the ship was parked, a sob – relief or something else, Adam couldn’t tell – torn from you. 

Your legs were shaking now, your skin so hot Adam could feel it through the material of your suit. He helped you quickly aboard, avoiding your eyes as you peeled the suit from your shoulders and pushed yourself against the cool wall. The pollen still lay over your hair and clothes, insultingly cheerful and innocent. 

He sighed. “We should get rid of that.” 

“Huh?” 

“The suit. It’s got pollen all over it.” 

“Oh, right.” You said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, peeling the material from your body without a second thought. Well. Adam hadn’t expected that. Trying not to watch as you sunk down to the floor, he shoved the offending clothing into the disposal to be dealt with later. 

“You should probably take a shower. There’s pollen in your hair and… on you.” 

You nodded, legs pressed firmly together, arms spread over the cool surface at your back. “Yeah, sure, I… Can you… Fuck, Adam, I’m sorry I—” 

“It’s ok, (Y/N), don’t worry.” It felt like a ridiculous thing to say, but seemed to help a little. “What do you need me to do?” 

“I need…” You trailed off in a low whimper, your legs shaking now. You didn’t even seem to notice you were in nothing but your underwear. “I…” 

Again, that twisting feeling. “Do you want me to come with you?” 

“Yes.” The word fell from your lips with a relieved sigh, your head tipping back. 

So Adam went with you, helping you into the tiny decontamination spray shower, trying to avoid touching you as much as possible – not for lack of trying on your part. You seemed to gravitate towards him, pressing your body into his hands wherever they lay, leaning hard against him. Your breath was still laboured, your face still pink, but it seemed less painful now that you had direction and were free of the suit. You’d stopped wriggling, anyway. 

You sighed as you sank down to the floor, your fingers vice-like around Adam’s. His free hand found the taps easily, turning on a cool jet and directing it to the pollen in your hair. It flowed down your neck and shoulders, an orange river spiralling into the drain. 

“I’m sorry,” you said for what must have been the millionth time, your own free hand pressed between your legs, tension radiating from every line of your body. “I’m so sorry, Adam.” 

“Hey, no, don’t be. It’s going to be ok.” He crouched, ignoring the water as he reached across to lay a hand on your forehead. You practically whined at the contact, your fingers tangling even harder with his, skin hot despite the cold water. 

“(Y/N)?” he said softly. 

“Hm? 

“Rocket, uh… Rocket said the pollen’s an aphrodisiac.” 

“Yeah, I – fuck – I know. Trust me.” 

“He said it works, um, strongly on humans.” Adam paused, heart pounding. Why did it have to be you, of all people? And why him? “If you don’t,” he continued, “you know… The fever might get high enough to kill you.”

“Oh fuck, come on!” Water sprayed where your foot slapped the shower floor, your voice echoing. 

Adam had never felt worse about anything. “I’m sorry, I should have checked the notes first, I didn’t even consider–” 

You didn’t seem to care. “So now I’m gonna overheat and die?” 

“Unless you have sex. With someone.”

Your head thudded on the wall, a sob flopping wetly from your throat. “Fuck this. Does it have to be with someone? Will it work if I just… do it myself?” 

“Uh, actually, I don’t know. Maybe.” He paused, unsure, then, “Do you want to try?” 

“Yeah, yeah I—” You took a shuddering breath, blinking through the water dripping over your face. “Yeah.” 

Adam nodded, standing. “I’ll… I’ll be around. If you need anything.” 

“Thanks.” It was barely a whisper, so wretched it made his heart hurt. You released his hand, and he turned quickly to leave you alone, your relieved moan following him out the door. Adam didn’t like this, not at all. You weren’t quiet, though he supposed that wasn’t your fault, and he hated, really hated the heat your moans and gasped curses sparked in him. It was wrong, so wrong, and he should not be here. But he couldn’t leave you. 

“Fuck, fuck oh my God–” you cried eventually, a wet thud echoing through the wall. “Oh my– fuck fucking fuck!” 

Adam listened carefully, unsure whether or not he should…

“Adam?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I don’t…” You broke off in a sob, genuine fear lacing your voice. “Fuck.” 

“(Y/N)?” He stepped back into the shower, pausing only for a moment to take in the mess that was you. Your hand was still between your legs, thighs spread wide, panties crumpled in a wet bundle in the corner and your bra pulled halfway down your torso. In any other situation, it would have been the hottest thing Adam had ever seen. 

“I can’t… It didn’t work, I’m still so hot, why am I so goddamn hot?” 

Adam cursed as he crouched beside you, taking your free hand only a little gingerly. He cursed fate and circumstance, himself for not reading the notes properly, Rocket and Kraglin for not miraculously having a cure, and you for still looking so fucking beautiful while you were quite literally dying. He swore that if – when – he and you got out of this, he was going to burn that whole jungle. 

“We’ll fix this,” he assured you, gently rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand. 

You sighed at the contact, shifting closer. 

He frowned. “Is that…?” 

“Feels better when you touch me,” you murmured. 

That was going to haunt his dreams, he just knew it. This whole ordeal was going to haunt him, and probably not in the way it should have. He already knew he’d be seeing your shoulders silky with the water, your back slicked with sweat and the smooth curve of your thigh for months, let alone everything else. Wrong wrong wrong wrong, he reminded himself. 

“Do you…” He stopped. It was absurd. It was wrong. It was not something he’d ever live down. 

Your eyes were open, overly bright and dark with want, searching his face like he held all the answers. You were still so flushed, hair plastered to your forehead and dark with the water, lips parted and so, so pink. 

“Do you want to have sex with me?” 

“Yes.” The syllable was torn from you, ragged and desperate, followed quickly by another sob. You shook your head. “I don’t want to pressure you, don’t wanna make you do something you don’t want to.” 

He could have laughed. How were you still so focussed on that of all things? It brought that syrupy feeling back, only now it was darker, hotter, and tinged with guilt. 

“It’s ok,” he said softly. “(Y/N), it’s ok. Don’t worry.” He carefully moved his hand to your face, pushing the wet hair off your forehead. 

You leaned into it as you had before, your eyes closed. “Then yeah, I… Fuck, Adam, I want you so bad. You have no idea how much I want you.” 

It wasn’t you. Not really. He did his best to ignore the spread of the tingling warmth, his own want, as he helped you to your feet and did his best to dry you – again, as gently as he could. You just let him, casting your bra away when he paused at it, still struggling to stand and trying your best to get as close to him as you could.

Vaguely, Adam wondered how the hell this would actually work. He hadn’t had a lot of experience with much of anything before he met you and the other Guardians, let alone sex, and he had no idea if you had either. He somehow doubted you were in the same position as he was – you were gorgeous, after all, and so friendly it was a wonder he hadn’t ended up head over heels for you sooner. 

He really wished this wasn’t happening. He wished you really did want him, that he’d worked up the guts to ask Quill about Gamora and how that had gone before he’d taken off, then told you about his feelings properly. If he’d gotten that far, he was sure you’d have shown him how it went with the same patience and care you’d shown him everything, and he’d have liked to have taken his time. He’d have liked to kiss you, touch your pretty hands and hold you close, feel you all over and let you take the lead, tell you about the things he thought about you and everything you did to him. 

But it was happening, and you were probably not going to want to talk to him after it had run its course. At least you’d be alive.

You’d stumbled to a bed – one of the standard fold-out ones – beside him, and now he sat you down on its edge. You hadn’t released your hold, pulling him down with you, hands flying straight to the fastening of his own damn suit. 

“Is this ok?” you breathed, practically vibrating with anticipation. Your hands were flitting everywhere; his hair, his neck, along his jaw, his face, his own hands. You were very clearly trying very hard to make yourself slow down, wait, and Adam’s heart melted. 

“Yeah,” he said, “it’s all ok. You do what you need to.” 

A sigh of relief, a soft “thank you,” and then you were clambering into his lap and peeling his clothes off like it was nothing, your lips hot and hard against his. Adam hadn’t kissed anyone before, but he’d seen enough movies – most of them with you – to know that this wasn’t how it usually went. There was little technique or rhythm, more your tongue licking into his mouth, teeth occasionally knocking against his, so forceful he wondered if it was hurting you. 

You’d completely stripped him remarkably fast, and now your hands explored his shoulders and arms, trailing goosebumps down his chest and stomach. You fit perfectly over him, and he allowed himself to run his own hands up your back, down again, over your hips, finally settling in the curve of your waist. How often had he wondered what it would be like to hold you there? 

You moaned, the heat at your centre slick and wet against his own rapidly hardening dick. And now you were moving, too, grinding against him like your life depended on it and why had nobody told Adam it could feel like this? 

You’d broken the kiss, your lips swollen and even redder than they’d been before, your hands now in his hair, fingers tugging ever so gently. Adam had to stifle his own little sound of pleasure, bending his head to kiss at your neck and those collar bones he could look at forever. You gasped a “yes” when his tongue darted out to taste the skin, the faint tang of sweat mingling with the sweetness of the water that had dripped there from your still-damp hair. 

Your fingers tightened in his own hair, the delicious pull sending more heat straight down. You directed his head in that direction, too, arching your back until his mouth found the soft mound of your breast and he licked, then on a whim, sucked. 

“Oh, yes, Adam–” you panted, your movements becoming even more frantic. 

“Hm?” 

“Oh, that’s– that’s so good.” 

Did you know what you were doing to him? Adam supposed you didn’t, sucking again at a different spot, licking it, placing a kiss there, moving on. Rinse and repeat. 

Then your hands disappeared from his hair – that was a shame, but this wasn’t about him – and the next moment your fingers were wrapped around his cock and you were stroking it better than he ever had, your palm a million times softer than his, sliding easily with your own slick. 

“Can I?” you were asking. “Please, Adam, can I?” 

You could do whatever you wanted, Adam didn’t care. If he’d thought about it, he’d have realised that he actually liked the idea of you having your way with him, using him for your own pleasure, taking what you needed from him. But he didn’t think about it, he was too caught up in the smell and taste of your skin, the little sounds you were making, the wonderful movement of your hand. 

“Yes,” he breathed, “yes, go ahead, (Y/N). Please, just– just go ahead.” 

You were moving, rising on those wonderful thighs and your hand was moving too, something hot and slick rubbing over the head of his dick and then holy shit Adam’s mind went blank. If he’d thought you felt hot before, it was nothing compared to this. He groaned in unison with you as you sank down, taking him fully and gripping his shoulders, your breath fanning his face. You fit perfectly around him, squeezing spongy and smooth, and nothing could have prepared him for it. 

You braced yourself on his shoulders, rising off him – for a second he wondered if that was it, if you were pulling away – before you sank back down. You did it again, then again, and again and again until the only sounds in the room were your breaths mingling with his, your unrestrained little moans and his own half-stifled ones, the slap of your skin on his. 

Adam held you close, hands still anchored to your waist, transfixed by the silken heat of you and the brush of your chest against his, the bounce of your breasts and solidity of your body on top of his. 

“Feels so fucking good,” you panted. “No idea, so fucking – shit – good–”

“(Y/N),” he choked, unable to form a single coherent thought. 

“You’re so good, Adam oh my God.” 

Something was building in his stomach, he could feel it. The warm syrupiness was gone, something hotter and harder and so tight coiling in its place, growing with each moan and sigh and whispered curse from you. It was so much, almost too much, and half of his brain wanted you to stop right there. But the other half, the half that created those late-night daydreams, real dreams, half-formed ideas and scenes in his mind… That half wanted you to go harder, slam your hips down faster and say it again, tell him he felt good, he was doing well. 

“Making me feel so fucking good,” you murmured, as if you’d read his mind. “You’re so… ah, fuck, Adam, I’m so close–” 

Close to what? he wondered vaguely, but the praise was spinning that coil faster, faster, tighter and faster until– 

“Adam, oh, Adam—!” 

It snapped, electric and white hot and rolling up his spine like a damn shockwave. He could hear you crying his name, your movements slowing and your body spasming around his. He’d cum before, of course he had, but never like this. That had been small and so quick he hadn’t even realised what was happening until he was spilling into his hand or the bedsheets, confined to his dick, never spreading through his whole body and never with that glorious buildup. This was something else entirely. 

After what felt like an age, Adam’s mind returned to his body. You were shaking, collapsed against his chest, your arms wrapped around his shoulders and his around your waist, your face pressed into his hair, his own nestled in the junction of your neck and shoulder. You fit so perfectly against him. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice husky even to his own ears. 

You didn’t lift your head, but he felt you nod. 

“Are you sure? You’re shaking.” 

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I’m fine. I feel better, actually. How about you?” 

Adam just nodded, unwilling to move. He could feel himself softening inside you, but didn’t want to lose the warmth and the feeling that he was yours, that he was fully with you. But… “Do you want me to stay?” 

No response, then a deep sigh. “Yes,” you whispered. 

Adam ignored the butterflies and the spark of hope that conjured, opting instead for practicality. He could feel the rapidly cooling sweat on his own back, the coldness of your damp hair, the mess of spend around the place where your body swallowed his. 

“I’m going to clean you up,” he said softly, “then I’ll come back. Alright?” 

“Ok.” 

Slowly, reluctantly, he lifted you off himself and set you down further back on the bed. You whined at the loss of contact, curling in on yourself and shivering. But you weren’t so hot anymore, the flush had been replaced by what he could only describe as a glow and the overly bright look had vanished from your eyes. You really did look better. 

After a moment’s hesitation, Adam rose and turned away, making for the cabinet where the medpacks and other supplies were kept. You wanted him to stay. You’d told him he felt good. You’d held him afterwards, let him hold you, and had made no move to make him leave. If anything, you’d looked disappointed when he’d broken the contact. But still, you weren’t yourself. 

He paused, a horrible thought crossing his mind. Was he going to end up like Quill? Hopelessly chasing a woman who didn’t feel the same way about him? He hoped not, he’d seen how miserable the man was. But you weren’t hard the way Gamora was -- as much as Adam knew her, anyway, which wasn't much. You were soft and open, and you did care about him, he was sure of it. At least you had. 

Shaking his head, Adam returned to the room with a damp cloth in hand. 

“(Y/N)?” he asked softly, pausing at the door. No answer. 

You were where he’d left you, he saw as he stepped around it, still curled up on your side. Your eyes were closed, the rise and fall of your ribs deep and even. Asleep. The surge of tenderness surprised him, strong enough that he was sure he’d been swamped by an actual wave. You really were beautiful, even damp and naked, lips swollen and hair mussed. 

He was careful not to wake you as he brushed the hair off your face, wiped away the worst of the mess, and then pulled a blanket over you. He wondered briefly if he should stay with you, slide down beside you and wrap his arms around your waist, warm you with his body heat and be there to tell you it was all alright when you woke up. 

You shifted, heaving a deep breath and adjusting your position minutely, and that decided it. Adam couldn’t disturb you, as much as he wanted to, and there was still your suit and discarded underwear, not to mention the original task. On an impulse, he bent and placed a soft kiss on your forehead before turning, scooping his own clothes off the floor and making for the shower. 

[bteezxyewriter12]

Ride~ Jealousy

Pairing- Seonghwa x Named Reader

Word count- 5.8k

Includes- couple from Ride, angst, Seonghwa is jealous and is an idiot about it, fluff at the end, set during Guerilla era,

Tag List- @mingtina @jaxminnie @yeosayang @delightfulmoonbanana @tannie13 @y00nzin0 @marsstarxhwa

@yeosxxx @seokwoosmole @jjongsbebe @wisejudgedragonhairdo @meowmeowminnie @woo-stars @borntowalkaway @usagionthered @san-realblkwife @seonghwasstar @jejeyeppeo @soulseobi05 @kpop-bambi @prayerofthehaim @realisticnotes @pinkies-things @insomniacatiny @stephy-nicole13 @mknae-jongho @bykeynote @blueie-things

Gif Credit- Kyoungjo

Masterlists- check out for more fics

📝Masterlists 📝ATEEZ Masterlist 📝Seonghwa Masterlist

Seonghwa POV

"Seriously jagi?", I groan

"Yeah Hwa", she confirms

"But you always take my pictures. I don't want anyone else", I whine

"Baby it's not my choice. My manager wants her to take your pictures. She's new baby and he's testing her out"

"Yeah but why me? He knows about us, he knows you're my photographer, why is he taking you from me?"

She laughs, "Hwa, its just for this shoot ok? And my manager picked you because you're good at taking pictures. If she....doesn't do a good job, you'll still come out great because you're a natural at posing"

I scowl at her because she's complimenting me but at the same time I won't have her to oogle and be sexy for

That's why I'm so good at it because I see her behind the camera

And I tell her this so she knows

"Aww Hwannie. You don't have to try be sexy if you don't want to. You just are naturally. Just be you"

"You are so good at flattery jagi", I roll my eyes, "But fine. You owe me though"

She smiles, hugging me, "Ok baby. I'll do whatever you want tonight ok?"

I hug her back, nuzzling in her neck, "Yeah?"

She nods, "Yeah"

"Ride me?"

"Of course"

"69?"

"Sure baby", she agrees

"Fuck you in the shower?"

"Uh huh"

Ooo this is getting good

"Let me tie you up?"

She snorts, "Yeah Hwa. Fine"

"Mm ok", I laugh in her neck

"Good", she laughs, pulling back, kissing my cheek and I just smile at her

"I gotta go set up the cameras baby. I'll see you in a little bit"

I nod, "Ok jagi"

Bending down, I give her a soft kiss, then she leaves

I sigh, sitting down, waiting for the shoot to start

I'm not happy about this new girl taking my pictures

I don't want a photographer I don't know, someone who I don't know how they work

The photoshoot didn't start yet and I already want it to be over

--------------------------------

"Can you look up?", the girl asks

I try not to roll my eyes

That's all she says

Look up, look down, look to the side

She's not asking me to change poses or positions and I have to do it by myself

I have to figure out the best pose, the best way to angle my face, the look I should give

She's giving me no direction and she's not even saying the pictures are coming out good

I have no idea if they are

I have no idea if I'm doing the photo shoot concept

I want my jagi back

She's across the room, taking pictures of Yunho

I hear her telling him how to look, how to sit, directing him to the best light, what kind of look she wants him to give

She's acting like a professional photographer not like a person just taking pictures

Like this girl

And I'm so jealous that the guys get my baby while I'm stuck with this newbie

If anything she should have another photographer with her, showing her what to do

Or at least taking pictures along with her so I have some good ones

I look up, at the camera and she snaps a picture

I catch myself mid eye roll and I stop it, playing it off like I'm moving to pose

She just keeps taking the same angle over and over and I'm getting annoyed

I decide to lean back on my elbow, putting my other arm on my leg, turning my head to my profile

Once I hear the click of the camera, I move my head back for another shot

I look around after she takes the photo, figuring that I'm supposed to take pictures with the props I have

A flag and a mask

Kneeling down, I take the flag and put it over my shoulder, keeping the mask next to me

"Ok", she says, taking some pictures, "Uh the mask?"

I pick it up and hold it to my face when she says, "Uhh"

I look at her slightly confused, bring the mask down a little, unsure of what she wants me to do

God she just has to fucking talk and I'll do whatever to get this shit over with

"Uh yeah, you can put the mask back up"

I do, posing and letting her take more pictures

She walks around me taking more and at least she's moving instead of standing in front of me like she's been doing the whole time

Glancing back at Joanne, I see her taking pictures of Wooyoung

He's acting very sexy, giving her smoldering eyes and biting his lip

Like he's flirting with her

"How do I look?", he smirks

I don't hear her answer, as she moves taking pictures but he smiles widely

Did she say he looks good?

Hot?

Why is he smiling like that?

"As sexy as your boyfriend?"

I clench my jaw, getting so fucking angry and jealous

"Uh Seonghwa?"

I look back at the girl, forgetting I'm in the middle of a shoot

"Sorry", I say trying to get myself under control

"Can you pose?"

Seriously?

What the fuck does she think I've been doing?

"Yeah sure"

I stand up, leaving the flag on the floor

I stare at the camera, holding my hand up by my face, moving it a little at a time after every snap

I hear Wooyoung laughing and I glance over at him

He's moving the flag over her, laughing and asking her where she went

He slowly pulls the flag down, over her, joking and teasing her the whole time

Flirting with her

And I don't understand why she's going along with it

Why she's flirting with him too

She pushes the flag off her, then directs him to how she wants him to hold it

He puts the flag bar over both his shoulders, then raises his head giving her a puppy look as she takes picture after picture of him

I look down at the floor, breathing in, the rage that's in my body astounding me

I feel like I'm gonna beat the shit out of Wooyoung

What the fuck is he doing?

He knows she's mine, why is he flirting?

"I like that one", I hear him say

I lift my head, looking at them in anger

He's next to her, way too close, looking over her shoulder at the camera

I guess she's showing him his pictures

He just doesn't need to be that close to her

Again I'm wondering why she's not telling him to move or better yet, fuck off

And I'm so angry that she's not

Doesn't she know that I'm right here, I can see everything?

She should be telling him to back off

They continue talking and I had enough

She wants to flirt fine

I can too

And maybe she'll understand how I feel if she feels it herself

"Uh-", the girl says

"What's your name?", I ask

"Oh uh Jia"

"Pretty name", I say, smiling

Her cheeks blush

"I'm gonna use the flag again ok?"

She nods and I kneel down slowly, making sure I'm staring at her

She swallows, her hands shaking as she raises the camera

"Don't be nervous", I say slyly

She just nods

I pick up the flag, putting it back over my shoulder, my face still towards her and I smile widely

She gasps but takes some more pictures

I'm not even posing, what is she taking a picture of?

Standing up, I put the pole down and pretend to lose balance of it, knocking it against my head, the flag enveloping me

"Oh my god", she says, rushing to me

She pushes the flag off me as I steady the pole

"Are you ok?"

I nod, laughing, "Yea. I'm a little clumsy"

"Oh", she says

She tilts her head, then reaches out and moves my hair away from my face, her fingers lingering in the strands for a little too long, "You're hair is messed up"

And my skin fucking crawls

I don't want her to touch me

I'm good at flirting but I don't want to be doing it

I want to be flirting with my jagi, not some girl I don't care about

Still, I continue to do it

She has to know what I felt so she'll never do it again

I just smile at her again, "Thanks"

Jia smiles and it does absolutely nothing for me

She doesn't hold a candle to my baby

I just smile back and say, "I'm just gonna play around with this and you can take whatever pictures you want"

She nods, "Yeah ok"

I look at the flag, making sure I'm standing so she gets my profile as I move the flag around, pretending to be so interested in it

After a minute or two she says, "I think that's it"

Bending I put the flag down, straighten up and ask, "Can I see?"

"Oh uh sure. Yeah"

I walk over to her, standing as close to her as I possibly can without touching her

Her breathing gets heavier as I look over her shoulder

She tilts her head back, looking up at me, biting her lip

I just smile, uncomfortable with her head almost touching my shoulder

"Can I see the pictures", I ask again, dropping my voice to make it low

She nods, smiling then looking back down

She scrolls through the pictures slowly and I see that I do have some good pictures of me in there among some blurry ones and ok ones

Those are because of me

I did all the work while she just stood there

"That's a good one", I say, pointing out a really good shot

Joanne was right, I am good at posing

"Yeah you look very....uh....", she trails off

"Sexy?", I offer

"Uh yeah. Really uh hot", she agrees

I roll my eyes behind her head, so done with this shoot

"Well thanks for taking the pictures", I say

"Yeah sure. No problem"

Smiling, I nod then glance across the room

Wooyoung is there, glaring at me but I don't see Joanne anywhere

Glowering at him, I ignore him and leave the set, going back to the dressing room to look for her

Once I get there, I look but I don't see her there either

Where is she?

"Seonghwa!", Wooyoung yells, coming into the room

"What?", I snarl

"What the fuck were you doing with that photographer? Why were you flirting with her? In front of Jo too!", he growls, angry

He's angry?

He's calling me out?

Fine, I can do the same

"Me? What about you?"

He looks confused, "What about me?"

"Why were you flirting with my girlfriend?"

"I wasn't"

He is not going to lie to my face

"Then what do you call asking her how you look? If you're as sexy as me?"

Realization hits his face, then anger again

"I just said that to be dumb!"

"Yeah sure. You flirted with her. And when you were playing with the flag, putting it all over her?"

"What are you talking about? I was just playing around. You know me and her are friends and I do dumb things on set. I was trying to make it not boring, I wasn't flirting"

He's really gonna lie?

Not happening

I know what I saw

"You were basically standing on top of her when you were looking at the pictures!"

"No I wasn't!"

"I fucking saw you!", I roar, "I have fucking eyes. I saw everything and I saw her flirt with you too! She did it right in front of me, where I can see!"

He has no idea how much that hurts

He should know she's off limits but of course he has to be a man whore

"No she didn't! She didn't flirt with me!"

"I saw it!"

"No you idiot!", he shouts, "She told me to fuck off when I asked her if I'm as sexy as you. And I realized I went too far and I apologized"

"I didn't hear that", I snap

"She said it quietly so she didn't embarrass me. She told me to cut it the fuck out and fuck off. And with the flag? She was annoyed. She gave me a death glare when she shoved the flag off her and told me to stop fucking around. And when I was standing with her, I didn't notice how close I was. The screen on the camera is so small. She asked me to move back and she angled the camera closer to me so I could see them."

I didn't see any of that

But then again I didn't watch the entire time

"She never flirted with me and I didn't with her. I wouldn't do that. I was fucking around and she wasn't having it. She was actually upset because she couldn't take your pictures. I was trying to cheer her up.", he explains, "And you should know better. You know she loves you with her entire being. She would never flirt with anyone but you"

I swallow hard, realizing that I fucked up

I assumed she was flirting but she wasn't

"I'll ask again. Why did you flirt with that photographer?"

Shame fills me as I answer him

"Because I thought she was flirting with you"

"And you what? Did it to get back at her?"

I nod

"What are you fucking three years old?", he shouts

"No! I was upset and hurt and I wanted her to feel the same way. I wanted her to know what I was feeling"

God it sounds so stupid now that I say it out loud

I did act like a three year old

What the fuck is wrong with me?

"You fucking idiot. You flirting with that girl for nothing. You hurt Jo for nothing!"

I did and I need to apologize

"Where is she?"

"I don't know. But she was upset and she was crying"

Crying?

She was crying?

She's never supposed to cry because of me

Never

Fuck

"What?", I whisper

"Yeah. She was so sad but holding it together while you smiled at that girl. When you went on your knees in front of her looking at her like you wanted to fuck her. Until she saw that girl touch you. Your hair. Then she started crying and I was trying to assure her you were just being stupid. Then you got so close to that girl while looking at the photos. From where we stood it looked like you were gonna kiss her when she tilted her head back. I heard Jo suck in a breath and I knew she was waiting for you to kiss that girl. And to top it all off, she heard you ask that girl if you look sexy. She saw you smirk at her. That's when she ran away from the set and I don't know where she went"

Fuck

I'm such an idiot

Such a fucking idiot

Getting to my normal clothes, I pull out my cell phone and call her

I pace as I hold the phone to my ear

It doesn't even ring before going to voicemail

"Hi, I'm not here right now-"

"Fuck", I yell, hanging up the phone

Her phone is off

Her phone going right to voicemail is a tell tale sign that it's off

I run out of the dressing room, checking all the rooms as I hurry down the hallway to the bathroom

They're all empty

Getting to the woman's bathroom, I knock on the door, calling her

Nothing

I shove the door open, going in, not caring if I get yelled at

I need to find her

Explain

Grovel

"Jo?"

The room is empty but I check the stalls one at a time to make sure

She's not here

I leave, checking the men's room just in case

Empty

Maybe she's in her car

I run to the exit, shoving the door open and run into the parking lot

Running to the spot I'm pretty sure she parked in, I yell in frustration when I see it's empty

The parking lot isn't so big and I walk up and down each aisle, scanning each car

It's not here

She's not here

The photoshoot isn't over yet so I know she didn't go home

I just have no idea where she is or where she could of went

And I'm panicking

I messed up so badly

I should of talked to her instead of assuming and just doing something that could hurt her

Wooyoung is right, I should know her better than that

I know she loves me more than anything

I know she sees only me, wants only me

So what the fuck is my problem?

I'm just a fucking moron

Going back to the building, I try calling her again but it still goes straight to voicemail

Fuck

--------------------------------

I haven't stopped pacing for an hour

Joanne's manager came and told us to take a break

I asked the manager why and he said that Joanne called, saying she was feeling sick and she needed a little bit of time to take meds and for them to kick in

I keep calling her, hoping her phone is back on since she called her manager but it's not

She must have called him and turned it off again

I can't take this

I need to see her, I need to talk to her

I can't relax, I can't calm down, I'm worried about her

I hate not knowing where she is

I hate thinking that she's crying and I'm not with her

Five minutes later, her manager comes back and tells us that we're starting again in five

And I run out of the room and straight to the set

Bursting into the set, I immediately find her at one of the tables, setting up a camera

"Jagi", I call, getting to her immediately

She doesn't answer, doesn't look at me, just continues to put the lens on the camera

"Jo?"

"What?", she answers

It's not a mean answer, it's just sad

"Baby, where were you? I was looking for you everywhere", I ask anxiously

"I was out"

I don't know what to do

She's not being responsive

I understand why but I thought she'd maybe want to talk or hell even yell at me

"Where? I was worried"

"Out"

I feel like crying

She's never been this cold with me, not even before we got together

"Jagi I-"

"No", she says shutting me down immediately

"But I want to -"

"No", she repeats

"I can explain", I start

"Stop", she says firmly, "No"

I close my mouth, at a loss of what to do or how to get her to hear me out

"If you wanted to upset me, hurt me, congratulations you did", she says softly

What no!

Of course I didn't want to upset her

I just wanted her to feel a little jealous like I was feeling

It was a stupid and I regret it

"If you wanted to make me question our relationship and whether you really want to be with me, you achieved your goal"

Wait what?

Question our relationship?

She's questioning our relationship?

Because of flirting?

"Jo that's not-"

"I don't really want to talk to you right now Seonghwa", she cuts me off

My mouth drops open as pure fear runs through my body

She's never said that before

Any minor disagreements we have she always talked to me

And we never fought

Not once

"Jagi-"

"No. I just want to finish the photo shoot and go home. Alone"

Tear immediately well up in my eyes as I realize she doesn't want to be around me

She doesn't want me coming over tonight

And I don't know what to do

I haven't slept without her in a year and a half

I don't think I can

"But....but....", I stammer

"I just need to think about things Seonghwa. Whether we're going to work or not"

Oh my fucking god, what did I do?

"Nnn...no jagi...please-"

"I can't be with someone who thinks it's ok to flirt with someone else, especially in front of me. If you did it and I wasn't around, that's bad enough. But right in my face? No. I'm not dealing with that"

"Joanne, I'm sor-"

"Just leave me alone Seonghwa", she says, breaking my heart

She finally looks at me, so much hurt in her teary eyes that it takes my breath away

She's hurt because of me

I put that look on her face

I made her cry

I hurt her

I hurt my jagi when I swore I would never do anything to hurt her

I'm such an asshole

"Joanne I didn't mean to hurt you...I ...I was jealous of you and Wooyoung. I thought you were flirting with him"

"You know me better than that Seonghwa. I would never do anything to hurt you", she says, her eyes looking away from me

I know

I should of remembered that

I shouldn't have let my jealousy take over for nothing

"I...I'm sorry. I was stupid ok. I flirted with her to get back at you. To make you feel jealous too. I didn't mean it"

"That's even worse Seonghwa. That just means that you don't trust me and you want to do what? Get revenge on me for something I didn't even do?"

"No not revenge...it wasn't...it wasn't..."

God I don't know how to explain this

It seems like revenge but it wasn't

I just wanted her to feel what I felt

"I don't want a boyfriend who is going to do hurtful things to get back at me. I don't want a boyfriend who doesn't trust me. Without trust there's no relationship. That's not what I want"

"Please Jo, it's not like that!", I cry

"I need you to leave me alone Seonghwa. I have to think about this and I can't have you around me right now. It just...it just hurts"

"Baby please. I'm sorry. I'll do anything you want. Just please, don't leave me. I love you"

"Then leave me alone. That's what I want"

That is the furthest thing I want to do but I did say I'll do whatever she wants

And if I do it then maybe it'll show her that I'll do anything to fix this, anything to be with her

"Ok jagi. If that's what you want, I'll leave you alone", I whisper, the words completely breaking me

I want to be around her all the time and this is going to be torture

"Good", is all she says

She's silent as she continues to set up the camera and I have no choice but to walk away

I don't want to crowd her and get her angrier

I make my way out of the set and to the bathroom

Locking the door, I lean against it, sliding down to the floor, crying hysterically

I miss her already

I'm terrified she's going to leave me

I can't be without her

I can't

She's my everything, my life

I can't function without her

This is all my fault and I can't even fix it

I just hope that if I give her this space, she'll talk to me when she's calmer and I can fix everything

Because I don't know what I'm going to do without her

--------------------------------

Staring at the ceiling of my room, she is all that's on my mind

I'm exhausted but I can't sleep

Last night was torture

I couldn't sleep without her and I kept waking up almost every hour

At 5am I just gave up and got up

I texted her throughout the day but she never answered

We were just practicing today so we didn't need a photographer and I had no clue where she was all day

If I wasn't a complete idiot she would of been with me, watching the practice

I was a mess all day, fucking up every move in the choreo and getting everyone mad

I just can't help it

Today wasn't a normal day when she just couldn't make it to the practice

Today she decided to stay away from me, because she wanted to be away

I hurt her so much she doesn't want to see me

Today killed me and it solidifies what I already know

I can't be without her

Glancing at the clock, I make a decision

I need her

I can't stay here, staring at my ceiling all night

I can't miss her anymore

I need to get her back

I'll beg her, do whatever she wants, I just need her back

Getting up, I dress quickly trying not to make noise

Hongjoong actually came back to the dorm tonight and he's knocked out

I don't wanna wake him but I am gonna wake someone else up

I just hope he's not too mad

Leaving my room, I go into another

"Yunho", I whisper, shaking his arm, "Yunho"

He snores so loudly, I don't know how San stands it

"Yunho", I say a little louder, shaking him harder

"Huh?", he says groggily, his eyes barely open

"Yunho, it's me"

He squints at me, lifting his head just a little

"Seonghwa? What the fuck?", he grumbles

"I need a favor"

"What time is it?"

"2:30"

"You need a favor at 2:30 in the fucking morning?", he glares

"Yes. Please. I need you to drive me to Joanne's apartment"

"What why?", he asks rubbing his eyes, "Didn't she tell you to leave her alone?"

Yeah all the guys know what happened because of Wooyoung's big mouth

I got six more rips from all of them about what I did

I lost count how many times I was called a fucking idiot

But they're right and I deserved it

"I can't. I need to see her. I need to talk to her"

"I don't think that's a good idea", he says

"Please Yunho", I beg, trying not to cry, "I can't be without her. I feel like there's a huge hole in my heart because I'm not with her. I need her. I need to beg her, do whatever I have to get her to come back. Please"

He doesn't understand how much I need her

No one does

None of them have been in love before

They don't know that with her gone I feel like part of me is missing

And it hurts

He sighs, "Yeah ok. Give me five minutes"

"Thank you", I say in relief

"Yeah yeah"

I leave the room to let him get dressed and I wait in the living room

I need to learn how to drive so I don't have to rely on Yunho

We all need to learn to drive

"Ready?", he asks me, coming into the living room

I nod, "Yeah"

"Let's go", he says and I follow him out of the dorm

Hopefully, I'll have my jagi back soon

--------------------------------

Putting my key to her apartment in the door, I turn it, hearing the click of the lock turning

I unlock the bottom lock too, then open the door

I quietly close the door so I don't make too much noise

I don't want her to freak out or wake up in a panic

Keeping the light off, I make my way to her room

I know the way around her apartment like the back of my hand

I'm here every night

Except last night

Hopefully that will be the only night I'm ever away from her

As I get closer to her room, I hear noises

Is she awake?

Listening closer, my heart drops when I realize she's crying

Her door is slightly open and I gently push it more, looking in the room

I can make out her figure in the bed

Her back is to me, her sobs muffled from her face being in the pillow

My heart shatters and I move fast to her bed

I just want her in my arms

"Jagi?", I call softly

"Go away Seonghwa", she sobs

My god, I never hated the sound of my full name as much as I do right this second

"I can't jagi", I say softly, tears flooding my eyes

"Yes you can", she whispers

"No baby, no"

I can't stand it anymore

I get in the bed next to her, wrapping my arms around her, getting as close as I can, holding her against me

Burying my face in the back of her neck, I sob too

"I'm sorry baby. I'm so sorry. Please jagi, I was an idiot. I love you so much jagi. Please, I'll do anything baby. Please don't leave me. I need you"

"You don't need me Seonghwa. Not if your flirting with someone in front of me"

"Yes I do. It didn't mean anything jagi-"

"Yes it did. You did it to get back at me. You didn't even think that I'd tell Wooyoung to fuck off. You actually thought I'd flirt with him. That hurts Seonghwa. I love you so much and you think the worst of me"

I know it sounds like that but I don't

"Jagi no baby. I was insecure and I handled it wrong. I should of talked to you instead of doing what I did. I swear, Jo, I made a big mistake and I swear I'll never do anything like that again"

I hope she can hear how sorry I am, how much I love her, how much I regret everything

She's quiet for a few agonizing minutes and my heart is pounding

"You let her touch you", she finally says, tears in her voice, "She touched your hair. The hair I always play with, that's only supposed to be for me. You are only supposed to be for me but you acted like you wanted her"

She buries her face in her pillow, crying harder

I hate how much I hurt her

I'm never supposed to hurt her

I'm supposed to make her happy but I failed

I was so concerned with my feelings, with being so petty that I didn't think about how she was feeling

"I am just for you jagi. I swear. I don't want her. When she touched me my whole body cringed and I wanted to slap her hand away. I don't want anyone but you touching me. I swear"

She just shakes her head, making my heart pound in my chest

She's letting me hold her but she still feels so far away from me

"I just want you Jo. Just you"

"It doesn't feel that way"

"It is and I can prove it baby", I tell her, reaching in my pocket

I move my hand from around her, bringing it closer to her face, "Look jagi"

She moves her face from her pillow as I hold out the ring I bought her months ago

"What is that?", she asks

"A ring baby. I was gonna ask you to marry me. After the comeback and before the tour, I was going to take you on vacation wherever you wanted to go and I was going to propose to you.", I tell her softly, "I love you so much Joanne. You are my other half, my better half. I felt so empty spending just one day away from you. Like I was missing part of me. I knew from the first time you kissed me, I knew you were the one I want to spend my life with. I'm sorry for what I did jagi but I promise it will never happen again. I promise, I'll spend the rest of my life showing you how much I love you and that you're my only one. I swear"

"What is happening right now Seonghwa?", she asks, sounding confused

I reach over to her nightstand, turning her lamp on

"Sit with me baby?", I ask her

She does while I stand up, pulling her closer to the edge of the bed

"Seonghwa what are you doing?", she asks tiredly

I look in her eyes and kneel down on one knee, holding the ring out to her

"Joanne, will you marry me?"

She's silent as she looks at me, my heart pounding in my chest

"Are you being serious?"

"Dead serious", I answer

"Yes", she says and I immediately stand up and sit next to her

"But you can't do what you did again. It killed me to watch you flirt with someone else. I hated seeing you give the smile you give me to someone else. If you want to marry me you have to be just for me. No one touches you"

"Never jagi. I promise. No one but you is ever going to touch me. I am just for you baby. I don't want anyone but you"

She gives me a small smile, "Ok Hwa"

Hwa

I can't even explain the happiness I feel just from hearing her call me Hwa

It's amazing

"I love you", she says

"I love you so much Jo"

I feel like a huge weight has been lifted off me and I feel like I can actually breathe

Taking her hand, I slide the ring on her finger, it looking so beautiful on her tiny hand

She looks down at it, smiling wider, then gazes back at me, tears in her eyes

Happy tears

She moves closer to me, her arms around my neck, pulling me to her lips in a kiss

My entire body relaxes as I fall into her kiss

I'm so fucking happy I got her back, that she's now my fiancee but even more that she's in my arms right now

It's what I was missing the whole day

"Come jagi", I say, laying down and taking her with me

She immediately cuddles into me, her head on my shoulder, my arms around her and my hand in her hair, running through the soft strands

"You don't know how much I missed you baby", I whisper, "I couldn't sleep last night without you. I kept waking up until I gave up at 5am. I just wanted you"

"I wanted you too Hwa. I didn't get sleep last night either. I just kept thinking that you may not want me anymore", she says softly

"Never jagi. That will never happen. You're my everything"

"And you're mine Hwa", she says, hugging me tightly

"I'm never letting you go Jo. Never. I swear"

"Good. I'm never letting you go either"

"Good jagi"

We settle down in bed, holding each other tightly

And I finally feel whole again

[jakeyt]

Covet: Chapter 8 (Part 2.2 of 2)

PART 1 OF PART 2

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Covet Summary:

Life was good. No, life was great. 

Was. 

Until.

Jake Kiszka crashed into the picture.

You welcomed him into your life—your home. 

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

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

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

Warnings: MINORS DNI (18+); smut (!!); angst; substance use (marijuana); unprotected sex (p in v); CONSENSUAL sex (p in v) under the influence of marijuana; jealousy; negative self-talk; oral sex (f! receiving); anxiety; intense feelings of sadness; abandonment issues (as usual, PLEASE lmk if i missed anything that is triggering to you!)

Chapter Word Count: 21.3k (i’m very very sorry)

a/n: CLIMAX TIME! woooo!! i’m sorry for another mf 2 parter… thanks to tumblr’s fucking paragraph limit (*screams*)🫠. the entire chapter is 43k words long (didn’t mean to do that—sorry 🥲), so this is almost exactly half of it. BUT, never fear, I will be posting part 2 to this tomorrow, as it is COMPLETE and ready to go… but we’ve gotta keep up the anticipation, right? lol <3

please heed the warnings. there is some sex under the influence in this chap, and although it’s COMPLETELY CONSENSUAL, I know some may not like that (we are all different and that’s ok!).

HUGE thank u to my girls @joshym & @alwaysonthemend for putting up w me all the mf time and being dope ass beta readers and friends and agghhh... you two are the realest aaaand ilysm 😭

one more thank u to @welightthefire for being the most beautiful, incredible source for an upcoming situation in reader’s life. ily <333

Please enjoy the playlist as you read 🖤

enjoy!

-🌼🌼🌼-

August 17, 2022

You did your best to ignore the vibrating phone in your back pocket. 

Text after text kept coming in, begging you to check.

You knew who it was. With the way you heard every other brother’s voice except for his from the living room (or kitchen, wherever they were) and how desperate he’d been for you to not find out. 

But, instead of giving in, you just stared at yourself in the mirror, willing the ridiculous tears pooling in your eyes to stay at bay. It would be pointless to start fucking crying. There would be zero sense in crying over this. There was no relationship to fall apart after finding out about this. 

You hadn’t been cheated on.

So why did it feel like you had?

Because you’re a fuckass with your emotions, y/n, the lovely voice in your head told you. You need to learn how to be a stable adult before anything else. Things need to end. None of this is fair to Jake or his budding career, either. Do better.

Fuck. You didn’t want to end things with him. 

But you knew it was right to get out of it before you became any more entangled. You knew going in, that what you had wasn’t meant to last anyway. Being with Jake–fucking him–it was just a temporary thing. 

It wasn’t going anywhere. This was a short season. A blip in time. An indulgence. 

Nothing more. 

But it fucking hurt to be honest with yourself about that. 

Fuck. Stupid.

Jake had done a fantastic job at maintaining the agreement. All he’d done was be a good friend– someone to fuck around with. That was all he was and all he’d done for you. He had not broken any boundaries or any of your ridiculous rules.

The one who had let all of that fall to the wayside had been you. 

So you didn’t want to look at the texts. Didn’t want to see him apologizing for something that he didn’t have to explain himself out of. 

As tears ended up falling down your cheeks (because no matter how hard you tried to get them to stop, there was no stopping them), you realized that you were the only one to blame for the way you were feeling. You’d let him become your safe place. Your anchor. The person you longed to be around (and with) most. . . 

You realized that, most of all, you were angry. Angry with yourself. It would be stupid to be upset with him. He’d done nothing wrong.

If he was fucking her, that wasn’t any of your business. Like you kept reminding yourself, there was no relationship, and he was allowed to do whatever he wanted with other women. And it was definitely not his responsibility to explain anything – make you feel better for something that was your own fault.

You’d let yourself get too attached. Plain and simple. 

It wasn’t Jake’s fault that you’d put your guard down enough to feel so jarred and shocked by this revelation. This was on you. And you weren’t sure if you should apologize to him or just start separating yourself from the situation.

Start separating yourself from him. 

And fuck, there were the tears again.

You got some toilet paper to wipe your face, and took deep breaths. As you were measuring your breaths, you cleaned up the mascara that’d made a mess under your eyes. 

When you had these stupid crying fits, if you could find the strength to do it, it'd always helped you to focus on something that brought you pure joy. But, unfortunately, you’d put yourself in a bit of a hard place at the moment. 

Because the thing—the person—who brought you the most joy in your life currently was the same one you were crying over. 

The only other thing you could think of was your cat. 

Stevie. Who’d, thankfully, followed you into the bathroom, trotting behind you as she’d probably sensed that you needed her. She was a damn smart cat. 

So, you sat on the edge of the tub to pet her where she sat on the toilet seat. You were super fucking grateful for the little fluff ball. Her icy blue eyes found your crying ones, so she leaned her head in your direction, signaling for you to pet her. Then, she started purring, which brought the sort of serene calm that only a cat’s purr could. The vibration from her body to yours was bringing you back down to earth, reassuring you.

Then, as you were petting her, you felt your stomach pinch and twist in a way that usually signaled your least favorite, bloody aunt. 

Of course.

As you sat to pee and assess the cramps, you thought about it all, glancing at Stevie’s sweet face as she now sat across from you on the ground, licking at her paws. Things would be okay. They would. This situation with Jake wasn’t as serious as you were making it out to be.

Right?

You just weren’t fucking ready for the way it was undoubtedly going to hurt first, in order to be okay in the end.

After peeing, you lifted the toilet paper to see if you were truly that unlucky. And, you were met with what you already knew to be true: you were on your motherfucking period. 

Your life was going just great.

-🌼🌼🌼-

You’d thought it best to head to bed early, claiming that your terrible cramping stomach was causing you pain. (It was true– your period was good for something, at least. . . get you out of the room that had been suffocating you all night.)

All of the boys had seemed a little down about you leaving so soon, but you just bid them all goodnight and blew kisses in all of their directions. You were trying very hard to just act like your normal self. It was time to come back to fucking earth.

You had purposefully ignored Jake. You hadn’t looked at him at all after coming out of the bathroom, and your pocket buzzed with texts a couple times. But you kept it hidden in your back pocket.

When you’d gotten to your bedroom, you’d taken a Midol, willing the cramps to stay at bay. And when they started fading, you decided to try to sleep.

But all you did was lay there, staring at the ceiling.  

You could hear the boys talking in the living room. All about their upcoming festival that coming weekend. You were longing to be out there with them, but you just let yourself lay in your bed and listen to the little pieces of what you could hear through the door.

A lot of talking from the three that didn’t live with you occurred (well, mostly Sam and Josh), but Jake stayed oddly quiet. He was always one to jump in on music talk— especially if it had to do with the music he was making.

Every now and then you’d hear his input, but it happened very little.

You’d almost fallen asleep when you heard two hushed, familiar voices talking outside of the bathroom, which sat right next to your bedroom door. Through the blurriness of your opening eyes, you looked at the door through which you heard them.

It was Josh’s you heard first. 

“What is going on?” 

Then, Jake.

“What do you mean?”

A little huff-growl came from the charismatic mouth of the curly-headed twin. “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me, Jacob.”

When you heard Josh’s little growl through the thick wood of the door, it was a little funny. He was always so fucking dramatic, and you loved that about him. But it was simultaneously why you were scared as hell for him to ever find out about you and Jake. So, through the door, you willed Jake to play it cool. 

Quit wearing your emotions on your fucking sleeve, Jake, you thought, annoyed. There’s literally no reason for you to be upset. 

“I’m not,” Jake persisted, his voice stern enough to convince someone who wasn’t you (or his twin). “I’m just worn the fuck out.”

The last part sounded real, though. You could sense the slight weariness in his tone. Were you wearing him out?

“Is it Maya?” Josh questioned. “You got all up in arms when Sam brought her up. Are you still seeing her? I was honestly convinced you weren’t.”

Huh? Surely Josh would know if Jake was still fucking her. . . And if he didn’t know, surely it wasn’t happening. . .

The hope that momentarily rose in your chest was embarrassing. 

Because, just as soon as it was there, you were reality-checking yourself.

Josh also had no clue about the two of you, so. . .

Maybe Jake was just doing a stellar job at blocking some of the telepathic wavelength they normally shared. Fuck if you knew. 

“I guess you could say part of it is her,” Jake responded. “Saw her the other day, you know.” 

“Oh?” Josh wondered. “I thought you couldn’t date clients.”

“We’re not dating.”

“You’re involved.”

“I guess,” Jake said, relenting. 

Fuck.

“What do you mean you guess?” Josh challenged. “Are you or aren’t you?”

“It’s more complicated than that, Josh.”

Complicated? Goddammit. How had you been so oblivious to him being in a complicated arrangement with another woman?

“No it’s fucking not.”

“Yes it is,” your roommate insisted. 

And there he was, getting sensitive in reference to this woman, yet again.

“Jesus fuck,” Josh exasperated. “Whatever it is, you need to pull your shit together. Get it figured out because it’s clearly a touchy subject. And you and I both know now is not the time to get all up in arms with Sam about something like this.”

“I know,” Jake conceded. You envisioned him nudging at his nose with his pointer finger, shaking his head to himself. You’d spent so much time recently watching his reactions to things. . . you were becoming a pro at his mannerisms (when you definitely shouldn’t be).

“Now is not the time to be getting involved with anyone— especially if it’s just a quick fuck,” Josh emphasized the last part. Your heart lodged in your throat. “You know better, Jake. And you know that now is the time to focus on yourself rather than a woman– focusing on anything besides this monumental time in your life could hurt you.”

“Monumental,” Jake scoffed. “It’s just a festival.”

“You know it’s not. God, this is what I mean!” Josh said, his voice raising a bit. When he spoke again, he was back to using a muzzled tone again. “Quit acting like that. You’ve waited your whole life for this.”

“Josh, I really don’t want to talk about this.”

“You don’t want another Amelia situation— where you become so obsessed with a woman that you move to Illi-fuckin’-nois, put yourself on the fucking back burner, and give up on the thing you love the most. Because when you do that to yourself, you do it to all of us, too.” 

Amelia? There was no question to who Josh was describing. Putting a name to his ex girlfriend was strange, to say the least. By hearing her name, she seemed more than just a figment of history. Giving her a name made her that much more real – and it made everything else feel so much more real along with it.

The reality of your situation. And you’d be damned if you were the reason he gave up his fucking dream again–you’d known it was a possibility for him to do the same with you as he’d done with her. And Josh saying all of this made you feel completely validated in all of your original fears. 

You refused to be the one that ruined everything for them– for him. 

And to be viewed in such a negative light as Amelia was to Josh. . . that fucking terrified you, too.

“How dare you fucking bring her up? This is not the same fucking thing. You know that, Josh.”

“Are you sure? Because based on how you acted when Maya was brought up, I wouldn’t be so sure.” Josh scoffed. His voice softened when he added, “Can you just fucking look out for yourself—just a little bit?” He pleaded, his voice breaking a bit. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt again. Fuck, Jake. I would just really appreciate it if you cared about yourself the way you deserve–.”

You heard another snicker from Jake. 

“Stop it,” Josh sternly stated. You heard a muffled ‘ow’ from Jake. Had Josh hit him or something? Damn. “I’m tired of being the only one to care about your happiness, Jacob. You know I will continue to be here for you–always, but I need you to take this time in your career seriously. Don’t let an unstable relationship get in the way.”

In that moment, you knew that where you’d stood since the beginning in believing how important Jake’s career was had not been in vain. It was his dream—his career. . . His livelihood. It was also completely apparent that you had been correct in knowing how Josh would feel about an arrangement like the one you and his brother had going on.

The entire thing had been a foolish, selfish idea. . . 

You could slap yourself for giving into the temptation. 

Eventually, the conversation between the twins faded out. A couple of slightly dismissive “okays” from Jake and “I love yous” exchanged between the two. 

Then, you were met with the noise from the living room again. Planning, planning, planning from the four men. . .

And you were stuck in the still, quiet darkness of your room, making a plan of your own as the moon highlighted your covers and Stevie’s body curled in a peaceful, sleeping state.

Oh, how you envied your cat and her obliviousness to the stark, upsetting reality of life.

The entire interaction outside your bedroom between your best friend and the man you’d centered your life around as of late. . . 

It sealed what you knew you had to do.

-🌼🌼🌼-

August 19, 2022

You were deeply regretting being at this fucking music festival.

The busyness of everything around you was making you feel like a little bug— with fluttering wings that were about to get stomped. Ironically, your body was buzzing like an insect— from the inside out.

Your old friend, Anxiety, was along with you for the ride. Also Elsie.

And your cramps.

Thankfully, you’d waited to come until later in the day. The boys had been there all day, but you’d chosen to not go when they did, and instead wait for Elsie’s plane to get in at the airport so you could get ready, then arrive together. You were slightly shocked that she showed up on a sort of whim. But she’d been insistent on being at the festival to support Josh and witness this “big step” in his career. 

They weren’t performing until early evening anyway, so it would’ve been pointless to stand around while they busied themselves doing whatever the bands were supposed to do beforehand.

By the time the two of you had fixed yourselves up to attend and found your reserved place on the lawn, it was very nearly packed full. The security was, thankfully, super kind in accepting your VIP badges, so your anxiety didn’t flare up as bad as it could have as you made your way to the spot at the front. And having Elsie there helped a ton. 

But, combined with the mass amount of sweaty bodies and non-stop chatter and drunk singing and dancing around you, you felt your skin crawl, and as if you were about to combust from the inside out. These crowded places were not your forte, but you couldn’t pass up being at these shows. 

Elsie was right– this was a big step.

And Josh had been right when he’d told Jake it was monumental.

You’d seen the lineup. You knew who’d be performing at this festival– band names that any random person on the street would know. Not Metallica-type bands. . .not yet. But popular groups nonetheless.

Jake’s dream was coming true, and you had to be there to witness this. To experience it alongside him. While you could.

But, as you looked to your left, on the left wing of the stage, you saw them.

Her.

Her beautiful, bronzed skin on display in her black dress. Her perfectly shaped hourglass figure being complimented by the short length, and the deep V at the neckline. 

No VIP badge like yourself, but she was backstage with him. Did she arrive with him? They were talking animatedly, her hand naturally resting on his arm when she’d say something. Her boisterous laughter every time he would say something. (He is most definitely not that funny. Fucking tryhard.) Even as he tuned his guitar, she stood there. And without fail, he would glance up every now and then to add something. . . or to simply smile at her. 

It made your stomach lurch. You felt like you were going to be sick. 

And, of course, Elsie caught on. Her observatory brain catches everything.

You hadn’t seen her watching them with you, her eyes darting back and forth between you and them as you were stuck in your watchful trance. But you knew, as soon as she grabbed your tricep that she’d been tuned in to your reaction at the entire display.

“Who’s the new fling?” Elsie’s joking voice pulled you from where your stare had been placed for the last several minutes. 

Suddenly, you felt extremely on edge and defensive. Anger heated your blood to a boiling temperature.

“It’s none of our business, Elsie,” you snapped.

“Oookay,” Elsie scoffed, flipping her natural curls back behind her shoulder. She crossed her arms. “You can’t pull that shit on me. I saw you fucking watching them– making it your business. Just answer the question.”

“Bold of you to assume I even know her name,” you rolled your eyes, playing it off the best you could. 

The way she leveled you with her eyes reminded you how stupid it was to attempt hiding anything from your older sister. (Again, her observatory mind misses nothing. Even when you wish it would at times.)

You sighed, pushing a hand through your hair to wave it away from your face. Sweat was accumulating on your forehead, right at your hairline. You felt gross. “Her name is Maya.”

“Hmmm,” she hummed, squinting as she tapped her chin. “Maya. . . okay. How long?”

“Apparently since he moved here,” you replied, trying to keep the emotion from your tone. 

She gave you a look that said she knew better, but didn’t give you a hard time. (Praise God.)

“Wow,” she blew out a long breath through her lips, the color of mulled wine. “And then he fucked you midway through fucking her?”

You flinched at the wording. “Damn, crass much?”

“Shut the fuck up,” she retorted. “You talk the same exact way as me, bitch.”

“Whatever,” you said, annoyed by her, but comforted by the familiar banter. You missed her being around. . . so much. “And yes, the timeline seems to allude to that.”

“Does that upset you?”

You were glad she had the decency to pose the question. . . even though you knew she wanted to outrightly state what she already knew to be true.

“No,” you derided. “It’s just his classic asshole behavior,” the words felt wrong coming from your mouth. You knew he wasn’t an asshole. Moments in time, of him talking to you, comforting you flickered through your mind like a reel. You tried your best to cover it with another dismissive (yet truthful) response. “And, we’re not together now and we weren’t together then. He’s had every right to fuck whomever he pleased.”

“Mhm,” she grinned, still narrowing her eyes at you. But, she played along, her blue eyes catching sight of something behind you for a few seconds. “Well, however you’re feeling— I can tell you right now that he still thinks you're fine as hell.”

It was your turn to scoff, pursing your lips, painted in the same lipstick as hers. “What encouraged you to say something so asinine?”

“Not asinine,” she snarked, looking over your shoulder to the left wing again. “I’m literally currently observing this man devouring you with his eyes.”

Your skin heated, but you didn’t want to turn around. At the present moment, you didn’t know how to feel about him looking at you that way. Did you want that? Yes. Should you want that? Absolutely not.  Especially after you’d found out what had been happening behind your back for the entirety of your escapade– shit. No. Not behind your back. He hadn’t been keeping the fling a secret. He simply didn’t need to make you privy to it. There was no reason. 

In the back of your mind, you heard your obnoxious voice stating your rules for him (and now reminding yourself what had been set in place). 

“No questions or comments about dates the other one may have. It’s not our business.”

The last four words were ringing in your head, whether you wanted them to or not. Still, it made your heart sink to think that he was looking at you and Maya the same way. . .

Fuck. Don’t. Cry.

“Sis?” Elsie’s attentive voice yet again brought you out of your funk. “Talk to me.”

Your sad eyes were impossible to hide. It was getting harder and harder to fake in front of her. But still, you shook your head and mouthed a ‘no’ while also sniffling to dry up the tears.

“Okay,” she soothed, conceding for the time being. “But I’m not going to lie to you and tell you he’s not looking right at you. He hasn’t stopped fucking staring for the last several minutes.”

Truly not able to help it, you glanced over your shoulder to where you’d seen him before.

And she was completely correct. You felt the way his eyes burned against your skin, enveloping every piece of skin he could get his eyes on. 

Admittedly, there was plenty of skin for him to gape at. 

What you’d chosen to wear was pretty hot. A couple weeks ago, you’d ordered a few pieces online for the festival. Funnily enough, Jake had even given his input on some of it as you’d been leaning against him on the couch as you placed the order.

“You’re going to look so fucking sexy,” he had said. 

Those words are like a broken record playing over and over in your mind as you position yourself just so, popping your hip a bit in a way that makes your ass look really good. (If he was going to stare, why not make a little show of it?) It was a white piece that he had ultimately helped you decide on. 

(White was honestly an extremely risky move considering your current, fucking crampy situation.)

You hadn’t planned well according to your stupid ass cycle. Going off of your birth control, months prior, had thrown you ridiculously off track of your cycles.

Nevertheless, this (tiny) outfit was what you wanted to wear– what you’d gotten specifically for this occasion. So you were going to wear it, dammit. Knowing that festivals called for outfits on the more daring side, you’d gone all out in wearing as little as you possibly could.

The shirt was almost a halter top, but completely opened around your back and in the front. The only thing keeping your round breasts from being completely exposed, two pieces of fabric, connected at the neck. Although, your cleavage left little to the imagination. 

A delicate white corded rope wrapped around your body connecting the only two pieces of material that made up the entirety of the top. So, your chest was covered, but very nearly bare, nonetheless. 

Taking advantage of the exposed skin of your tummy, you opted to add a circle of sparkling rhinestones around your belly button. A little something special you planned a while ago that you hadn’t told Jake about, leaving it to be a sexy little surprise for him. 

The wrapped skirt, low-waisted and very short, made it easy to showcase the body jewelry Jake had specially picked out for you. 

You’d asked if he had any requests for the outfit since it was his event. And his only request had been to incorporate a little bit of body jewelry.

“To highlight this beautiful, magical body,” he’d said, reaching a hand around you to reach under your t-shirt. He’d traced a finger from your sternum, then below your breasts, and all the way to cross your tummy and hips. “I wanna see you sparkle underneath that bright sun.”

“And if it rains?” You’d turned, raising your brow and nudging his nose with your own.

He’d played along, and then gave the tip of yours a light peck. “You’ll still sparkle,” he’d smiled, making you feel so warm and cozy . . .

So, here you were, wearing the gold, belt-like chains that twinkled in the summer sun. 

There was one delicate chain that started as a dainty necklace at your throat, and trailed between your breasts, which accumulated in more pieces at your waist. The suns dangling from one piece added to the summertime vibe, and the other sparkly chains glistened against your skin. You’d even sprayed some sparkly body spray to add to the color of your sun-kissed, golden hue. Your makeup, lighter around the eyes, only some sparkly shadow and a slight wing to accompany your long, mascara-coated lashes. Hair in loose curls.

You’d wanted to look good for him.

And your ego was elevated by giving you his attention at the moment— even though Maya was standing there, right next to him. Albeit, she was busy talking to someone hidden behind the curtain, but his gaze was planted firmly on you. She could look up at any moment and see it. He wasn’t trying to hide the way he’d fixed his eyes on you. 

Even from where you stood, looking at him, halfway turned around. . . you could see how dark his eyes were, studying every last bit of you. You’d gotten used to seeing them darken like that. . . You were familiar with the way he was looking at you. His lids were drooping over his eyes, which raked deliciously from your white heeled boots, all the way up to where your own eyes were still watching him.

When your gazes intertwined, you felt your cheeks flare pink. Your breath caught in your throat at how he was intently poring over you. Your stomach tied in knots and your panties got wet when he bit his lip, winked at you, and subtly adjusted himself behind his guitar. 

Fuck, Jake, you licked your lips, biting your lower one softly. 

He looked hot as hell. His long, chestnut locks, flowing perfectly around his face with the occasional breeze. His black shirt, completely unbuttoned, showing you so much of his immaculate, golden chest and abdomen. Your eyes lingered on that solid abdomen— the same one that pushed just right, against you, as he would lay over you, fucking you with all he had. And his black jeans, tight against his glorious thighs.

When you saw him reach in his back pocket for his iPhone, he didn’t drag his lusty stare away until the very last second. Until he had to. Almost instantly, you felt your clear, festival-approved bag buzz against your hip. 

It was definitely embarrassing how quickly you snapped it open and looked at the text awaiting you on the screen. 

I really should turn the previews off, you thought absentmindedly, promising yourself you’d get that done soon, so as not to get caught exchanging these texts with him.

Little bit late for that, the stupid voice in your head shoved itself into your moment. It won’t even matter soon. 

But you pushed that critical voice the hell away. Just for now. 

When you opened your thread of texts, you avoided the texts from previous nights, still not wanting to read where he’d checked in on you. It was pointless to do so. And what awaited you below them was much better anyway.

Jake, 5:45 p.m.: I am rock fucking hard for you right now

Dammit.

Jake, 5:45 p.m.: how am I supposed to concentrate when you look like that in the crowd?

How am I supposed to make it through an entire performance of yours, so close to the stage? Watch you fuck your guitar and wish it was me. . .

Jake, 5:46 p.m.: One wrong move and those tits are out

Jake, 5:46 p.m.: goddamn. I need to bend you over

Fuck, Jake. Quit it. 

You squeezed your legs together, crossing them to alleviate the way you were throbbing.

Jake, 5:47 p.m.: I can’t wait to get you the fuck home after this thing is over

You squeezed your eyes shut, thinking of every bad, horrible, terrible thing you could. And when you opened them, you let out a breath you’d been holding in. But the pulsing happening in your underwear was still making you feel hot, sweating from more than the evening sun.

But when you glanced back up, he was gone. 

Half of you didn’t want to text him back, afraid he’d gone off with Maya to relieve himself. Though, to your relief, your eyes found her, still standing there, talking to a crew member. 

She hadn’t gone with him. . .

You tried texting him, reminding him of the sad, current truth of your body. 

You, 5:48 p.m.: I’m on my period, Jake. Lol. You know this.

Jake, 5:49 p.m.: I know. I haven’t stopped thinking about it, actually. 

Jake, 5:49 p.m.: I want you so fucking bad

Jake, 5:49 p.m.: do you want it?

Fuck. What did you say to that? You’d never had a guy want sex with you during your period. . . And the fact that he wanted it? Was willing to do it? That was fucking hot.

But you were conflicted since your period was your one way of staying abstinent from him. . . Fuck. You’d forced yourself to deny him because you were on your period. You’d even told him you were in hopes that he would be too grossed out to tempt you. But he wasn’t grossed out. He wanted you, still. . . And you needed him. . . so bad. . .

What would the harm be in just giving in to it tonight? Maybe attempting to have sex and forcing yourself to eliminate feelings while doing so would be helpful. . . a way to sort of ween yourself off of sex. (Fucking ridiculous, huh?) You decided you’d take time to think about it. Let the show play through first. 

It was completely against what you knew you should be doing: breaking all things off. 

You, 5:51 p.m.: How about we talk after the show?

You’d waited for him to respond, but he never did. It would have normally worried you, but you gave him the benefit of the doubt. He was at a music festival. Chances were, he was busy. They were also set to perform at six. You knew that much. And, right at 6:00, you were proven correct as you heard the beginning of screams and the beating of a bass drum. Before you looked up, you sent one more text.

You, 6:01 p.m.: Break a leg!

-🌼🌼🌼-

And break a leg he did. 

There’d been a few mishaps. Josh’s mic had gotten turned off midway through a song, Sam’s bass had been overbearingly loud at the beginning of the set, and Jake’s cord had initially had trouble picking up through his amp. 

You’d watched the first two incidents happen, hating it for the guys that they were having technical difficulties. But when Jake’s problem had occurred, you were feeling every bit of anxiety with him. You wanted to jump over the barricade and help him in whatever way you could. Ease his stress. 

But when his face had flashed with anger every now and again (very subtly— his professionalism impressing you), your cheeks had flushed at the way he’d looked so heated. Then, when he’d ended up yanking the cord from his guitar, his hand flexing around the cable, gripping it with all he had. . . You couldn’t stop what accumulated between your thighs. And when his lips had curled with a small growl, right as he turned around to switch guitars, giving up, your heart started beating, quick. Right below your breasts, rising and falling with every sharp breath you took. 

After that, he’d had no more issues, but you’d kept a closer eye on him than before (if that was even possible), for the rest of the set. There was literally nothing you could do from your spot, but just keeping a watchful eye made you feel better.

Though, he never looked out to find you, even though he knew exactly where you stood. In fact, he stayed rather focused on his brothers only. He watched them closely, looking as though he was ready to help if the need were to arise.

But there hadn’t been another problem for the four men. 

In fact, the rest had gone on without the slightest hitch. The way they seamlessly played off the mistakes was incredible, too. It truly showed their dedication to the art.

And the difficulties they’d encountered only added to the grand finale. . . The song you’d always associate with the first night you finally got what you’d so badly wanted. . . 

Edge of Darkness. 

Though, as much as you wanted to look at Jake (and the rest of the guys, of course), you had to look behind you to the hoards of screaming people. All of the women that were shrieking for them— it wasn’t a new thing, necessarily. . . But you were only used to the people who frequented small hole-in-the-wall shows. 

Not full-on festival goers. 

Not actual fans, reaching for one another, pointing their friends in the direction of a certain guy, doe eyes directed at each of the boys they’d scream for. 

Then there were the bras that were being thrown at the stage, over and over again. That was pretty funny— you couldn’t lie. 

But what wasn’t funny was the person watching from the opposite side of the lawn as you. She had her own section, too, maybe? 

From where you were standing, you weren’t sure if she did or if she was just GA. . . Surely if she’d been backstage she had a special place, though. . . If you were right in your assumption of her arriving with him, then you were sure that she had her own designated spot to stand. But why on Sammy’s side? Now your mind pwas running rampant. . .Had Jake been watching his brothers during the show? Or watching her when he’d looked that way?

Fuck— it didn’t matter.

All of this information you were trying to figure out. . . was just making your stomach churn. The way she watched him, biting her lip with a wide smile during his solo. Her eyes trailed his body in blatant admiration. 

Because she knows what’s underneath those clothes, the voice in your head reminded you. You’re not special. Can’t you tell?

But what really got you lost in your head, was when she started singing along with Josh. She knew the fucking lyrics. Every last word. As if she’d heard them a hundred times before.

That wonderful voice in your head suddenly reminded you of the fact that he was teaching her to play guitar. 

What if Jake was teaching her their songs during her lessons? What if she helped him write some of the material? What if. . . some of them were written about her? She had inspired him. . . of that you were almost completely sure. How could she not? She was fucking beautiful. She was not you. He would be insane to not feel inspired by just looking at her. 

Your mind began running far, far away from you with all of the unknowns surrounding the ever present mystery that came with Maya. Wrapping your arms around your body self-consciously, you looked back at the stage to try your hardest to enjoy the rest of the show.

You knew you were probably overthinking it, that it more than likely wasn’t that deep. But, anything was possible. And the way he had kept his involvement with her a secret for so long, (and if it weren’t for Sam, you’d probably still be blind to the fact that anything had ever happened between them) there were clearly things he didn’t want you to know about with her, or he would have brought it up. Despite your stupid fucking rules you had set in place. You knew he would have told you if he wanted to. 

It became increasingly obvious to you at that moment, watching Jake live out his dream on that stage with his brothers that you were most definitely not fit to live out the dream with him. She seemed to be so much more involved in it than you had ever been. Or tried to be. So selfish of you. 

Maya was so enthusiastic, so attentive to him beforehand. All day long, while you’d waited on Elsie, so as not to go to this event by yourself and look strange as the guys did their shit. How stupid was that? It sounded utterly foolish now. Because she hadn’t worried about that, coming no matter what, to be there with him.

Supporting him while you were being selfish at home. You were so concerned with other senseless things that you couldn’t be there with him to show him actual support. The necessary change, which lingered like a dark cloud over your head, just kept becoming more and more apparent. . . It would be foolish for you to not end things when it was obvious they needed to end.

-🌼🌼🌼-

When the show ended, Josh texted Elsie.  

No text on your end from Jake, but you tried not to overthink it. 

Josh had wanted you two to meet them backstage to get the “full experience,” as his message had iterated.

Then you were being ushered by security, who had apparently been told to locate you and transport you, filtering you into the area where the guys would convene after the show. 

Before you had too much time to stand and appreciate the space around you, you noticed Jake pass you, angrily. Storming off somewhere, it seemed. Your eyes followed him helplessly, worriedly. He didn’t even acknowledge you, his brothers trailing after him, but presumably giving up as they stopped in front of you and Elsie instead. 

It was excellent timing, though, because just as they’d come to a stop in front of you, Maya was coming up behind Josh, tapping him on the shoulder. Her long, inky waves billowed out like curtains around her heart shaped face. She seemed just as flustered as Jake had been. But where his was out of anger, hers was with an air of concern. 

“Where is he?” She’d asked, hastily, her brows drawn in with worry.

Fuck. Even her voice was effortlessly majestic. Without being able to control them, you felt the prick of tears behind your eyes. Your heart was going a million miles an hour. What did she know that you didn’t? Why was she so involved? Were you simply the one he wanted to fuck and sext? 

Why did it feel like it was just a little more than that with you? Had it been more than sex, ever? Was that something you’d conjured up in your head?

Josh had just rolled his eyes, motioning over in the direction in which he’d gone. “Over there somewhere, I guess,” he said. “But you’d be wise to let him be. He’s in a shit fucking mood. I told him time and time again he needed to replace that amp cable. He just wouldn’t listen to me.” 

She groaned and placed her open palm on her forehead, she scratched a well manicured finger to her shapely black brow. “I knew he would have an issue with that one of these days. I just hate that it was here.” 

She knew about it? About his amp cable that had apparently bitten the dust? It was like watching an entire new part of his life unfold before you, a part that you were not good enough to be involved with. Mundane things that only the people closest to him were aware of– but not you. 

You started feeling ten levels beneath her rank in Jake’s life. She was stories above you; you were obviously just a free pussy for him to park himself in when he needed it. A warm place for him to come home to, that was it. And you, so fucking willing to give it to him. His beautiful, sculpted body always made you so goddamn weak. 

You had remembered the texts you had gotten earlier– how badly he wanted to fuck you, despite your monthly visitor taking up residence. You’d thought it was so sexy that he still wanted to, that he was desperate to have your body tangled up with his no matter the circumstance. That had turned you on beyond all imagination. 

But now, as you were beginning to realize what you had meant to him in comparison to Maya. . . the feeling disappeared. Hell, she probably received those exact same messages as you, maybe even more. Maybe he had already snuck off somewhere to fuck her before you showed up. 

There was just so much you didn’t know. Your thoughts were swirling like a storm ripping through the sturdiest house, destroying everything deemed safe in its wake. He felt safe. Now, it all felt demolished. Maya was the perfectly ominous storm cloud blocking your rays of warm, shining sun.

All you wanted to do was go home, take a Midol, curl up under your blanket with your heating pad and forget about it all. Forget about Maya, forget about the festival, forget Jake. 

Maya was then gone, running in the direction of Jake while quickly thanking Josh as he gave her a half smile with a “yeah, no problem,” leaving his tensed lips. His love stricken eyes were glued to your sister, relieved to see her. It was obvious he was only concerned with her being there, rather than Jake’s pissy theatrics. 

He also lacked any emotion at what was happening behind him. As if it were the norm. The beautiful woman who was being shown by security where to go, being led directly to the man that had given her more of himself than he’d ever even thought to give you. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

Hours later, as you sat in your bed, face washed and in a giant t-shirt, sweatpants, and fluffy socks, you wished you could just go to fucking sleep.

You’d tried reading a steamy romance to distract you, but that had been a witless idea as all that had done was make you cry. The characters, hopelessly in love, looked like Maya and Jake in your head– so meant to be and written in a way that left them utterly transfixed with each other. Your brain was fucking wired and going crazy.

I knew this was a risk.

I knew emotions were bound to get involved. 

I knew that I was going to get hurt one way or another. 

You’d already cried plenty once you’d arrived home. What had started the onslaught of tears had been seeing his door, hanging open like it had been earlier, as he’d left in a flurry to make it to the festival. He’d kissed you before he’d left, and you’d bid him good luck. Your body had been filled to the brim with reassurance that things weren’t completely off. That maybe you had overthought some of the way you’d felt in the bathroom on Wednesday. Maybe you’d misunderstood him and Josh. 

You felt like a fucking moron, now, for getting butterflies at the interaction. Any time he’d ever kissed you, that same fluttery feeling occurred in your tummy, and it all felt ridiculously in vain now. Completely misplaced wistfulness and giddiness. 

Why had you gotten your hopes up at all?

You had just decided to take an ibuprofen to help with your cramps and hopefully lull you to sleep (as it usually did), when you heard the front door quietly open and close.

You had heard your phone buzz a few times in the past couple of hours, presumably messages from him. Everyone else had heard you say you were going home. And you knew what Josh and Elsie were most likely up to, far too busy to text. . . But you had opted to just ignore them. You hadn't even bothered looking at the bright screen. You didn’t want to talk to him.

After a few moments, there was a soft knock on your door. Then another. “Y/n? Are you asleep?” He had asked, his voice so soft.

You didn’t answer. The tears that climbed your throat made you think better of that.

“Are you okay?”

Again, you didn’t answer. You decided to pretend to be asleep. To avoid him altogether. 

Any other time, you’d be jumping down this throat, picking an argument over literally anything just to satisfy the hurt you’d sustained. But tonight, it was different. You just didn’t have it in you. 

You didn’t have the energy. You were sad, not necessarily angry. And you wouldn’t dare let him see you that way.

Aside from that, you knew that if he advanced you the way he’d said he wanted to earlier, you’d give in to his allure. You knew yourself all too well. And that was the last thing you wanted to give him. You had no clue what you were anymore, so why in the hell would you risk doing that? Continue to give him more of yourself when he wasn’t giving you all of himself? If that’s what he wanted so badly, Maya would surely be more than happy to fulfill that for him. 

“Well,” he started, his voice even softer than it was before. You could have ignored it. But, in spite of yourself, you hung on to each rasping word. “I know you’re probably asleep. I just– I wanted to tell you how beautiful you looked tonight and how glad I was that you were there. I always perform better when you’re there,” he cleared his throat, then continued. “Sleep tight, baby.”

You heard his footsteps lightly step away, heading to his room. You heard his door open and then shut soon after. 

Like a flood with no dam to hold it at bay, heavy tears began streaming down your face. Your pillow was soaked with your emotions in a matter of seconds. You brought your hand up to cover your mouth in an effort to quiet the choked sobs as they came from your throat. You just wanted to sleep. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

August 22, 2022

That following Monday, school started like you had been dreading.

But when the day came, you sort of accepted it as something that could alleviate some of your pent up emotions. Thankfully, you weren’t on your period anymore for your feelings to be raging.

However, they were persistently there. Mocking you for still being involved with him when all signs were pointing to him being involved with Maya, too. She was exactly what he needed.

You were a placeholder. Insignificant. Convenient.

So, when classes came along, they helped to bring some of your sense of purpose back. You were able to count on your coursework, professors, and peers to remind you that you were more than being free pussy for your roommate. You’d let your emotions guide you more into being angry than sad. It helped you to let them melt to a simmering ire. 

For instance, avoiding Jake had been easier. You had been able to rely on your period, the temper that bubbled below your skin, your work schedule on Saturday, and a meeting that he and the guys had participated in the Sunday after the festival.

Of course, he’d asked if you were okay whenever you’d seen him, but you’d given him barely-there responses like:

“Yeah, just tired.”

“Thinking about a lot.”

“Hormones are just insane right now. . .“

“School’s getting ready to start, so I’m just gearing up.”

“Don’t worry about me.”

Every time, he looked at you like he didn’t believe you were telling him the whole truth (how did he always know?). You knew it was a complete 360 from how vulnerable you’d let yourself be with him recently, but you silently relied on how long it had taken you to open up prior. Because you knew that he knew from experience that you didn’t like to overtly open up all the time. So, naturally, that also meant he didn’t push it a whole lot.

But you caught his glances– wondering and worrying about you. It was definitely fair for him to be curious, of course, but you’d just ignored his curiosity– pretended to not pick up on it. Acted oblivious. 

He’d texted you good morning texts every morning, too. Which he hadn’t always done before. . . but it was like he was trying as hard as he could to get you to trust him with whatever was going on in your head.

All you ever did was send a small “Morning!” or “Have a good day!” back, though. . . Mentally all you could revert back to was that he was probably the same exact way with Maya. Acted concerned for her. . . wanted her to trust him and open up to him and sleep with him. . . 

And you were sure it meant more to him with her. She was special. You were not. You were you. 

Average. His roommate. Sometimes maybe a friend.

You didn’t know though. Because any time he had acted like it was more, it had maybe just been a weird ploy. Why he felt the need to deceive you in any regard– like getting to you and figuring you out and being close to you for no reason– that was beyond you. 

You just knew people couldn’t always be trustworthy. Even the ones you wanted to trust most of all.

-🌼🌼🌼-

August 26, 2022

The bell on the door chimed, telling you someone was entering the shop, but you didn’t glance up to see who it was as you were in the middle of unpacking a random box of new vinyl.

You were just ready to get home. So ready to get off work. You weren’t even worried about Jake being there. You knew he had the day off, but you didn’t give two shits. He would cease to exist the moment you crossed the threshold of your home anyway. Your bed was calling your name from here. You were tired as hell.

The first Friday of every school year was normally tiring, but this one was worse due to the stressors of your personal life and the already-searing intensity of senior year.

“Hello, my love.”

That voice. It never failed to make your heart leap with delight. Your eyes were still tired, but your heart, now elated and full when you looked up to see Josh. For some reason beyond you, it just seemed entirely right for him to pop in. Felt like old times– before you worried about all kinds of shit. Him being present made everything feel tranquil in your current, opposite predicament. 

And his next words tempted even more tranquility. 

“I’ve got some fucking exquisite pot,” he beamed, one hand on his hip and the other balanced above his head, on the wooden shelf of records that you were stocking with more. 

You giggled, your eyes blinking tiredly. “Where the fuck is it? You already smoke some?”

“Fuck no, little mama,” he shooed away your words with his hand. “I’m waiting to do that with you.”

How did he know that this was exactly what you needed?

“Way to show up and rub it in my face while I’m stuck at work,” you rolled your eyes, smile still sitting easily on your lips. “That’s just rude, Joshua.”

He snorted. “You’re like ten minutes away from being off the clock, drama queen. I’m just letting you know I’m on my way to your place with it. We’ll be waiting for you.”

“Who’s ‘we’?” You smirked, raising a brow at the Indie vinyl that you were tucking in its spot. “You and Mary Jane?”

“Technically, I guess,” he stated as if he appreciated the slight joke. “But the guys as well.”

You froze with your hand on the record you’d just placed. Fuck. Ugh. No. 

That is literally the last thing I need, you thought, cross.

You grumbled under your breath, smoothing the top of the sleeve, trying to play it off. How could you convince him to ditch the others? The man who was the precise reason you wanted to get high off your ass?  “What happened to the days where just you and I would hang out?”

“Now that would be rude of me to not include at least one of them. . . as Jake was the one to mention you needing something to ease some stress,” he picked at a nail. “And the other two are just always there.”

What? What all had Jake told your curly headed friend? Why was he even talking about you? He needed to mind his fucking business.

“He wanted you to get me high? That’s gentlemanly.”

He cleared his throat, prompting you to look at him. His wide eyes were narrowed at you, a look of judgment swimming in them. “No. . .? Why would you assume that? Jake would never suggest getting a woman high to calm her down. I personally just enjoy feeling like the fuckin’ air to alleviate my worries, so. . . I decided on the weed.” 

His full eyebrows were still crinkled, mildly hidden by his growing hair. The curls touched the arch of his brow now, falling loosely over his ears. He finished with some words that cut through to you in a way you wished they wouldn’t. “He might be a dick sometimes, but he’s not all bad. You really need to stop thinking so little of him.”

Ouch, Josh. Stay in your lane. Don’t counsel me.

“Well, he’s the one who brought it up,” you said, tone still sharp and cutting through Stevie Wonder’s voice, ironically singing of being too shy to say things. “I just figured it had all been his idea.”

“Well, no,” he said, correcting. He backed up just a bit to lean against the front of the counter to talk from there. No one was in the store. Save for the fact you were talking about Jake, this felt so like the past. . . before everything. You could’ve cried (so much crying, Jesus). He crossed his legs at the ankle and arms at his chest. “All I told you was that he told me you were stressed and a little sad.”

Sad and stressed? Also, how did he know you were sad? That was a matter of assumption. Again, he needed to mind his damn business.

“Well, I don’t know why he’d go and assume I’m sad. That seems invasive as hell,” you began. “But I have been stressed. Why he’s telling you, I don’t know. But you already know the beginning of the school year is always a lot.”

Also, your brother and his girlfriend are all I can think about and it’s making me feel like dirt.

“I think he cares about you. Weird as it may seem, he has a soft spot for you,” he says, his eyes glinting and a little smile tugging on his full lips. “I mean, for God’s sake, he went to your grandparents’ house with you. . . He wouldn’t do that if he didn’t.”

Your heart was beating erratically in your chest. It didn’t matter. It didn’t fucking matter. For all you knew, he did the same shit with Maya. You weren’t special. But why did Josh taking the time to tell you this make you feel like maybe you were just a little bit unique? 

You couldn’t help but ask your next question. You were hoping it didn’t give you away. But Josh was the perfect person to ask. . . Nonchalantly as possible, of course. 

Continuing to sort through records in the massive delivery box, you avoided his eyes when you asked, “Doesn’t get soft for people easily?” 

“One could say he picks his people. . . And I guess you’re one of them,” he offered as his answer. Then, you saw his hand grab into the box to help you with the records. You peered up to where he’d positioned himself in front of you. “And who wouldn’t go all soft for you, y/n? You’re one of the most precious humans this world has ever been given. I knew it was only due time until Jake noticed.”

As soon as he said it, he’d smiled, and decided to go about his business helping you. But you just kept staring at him. The tears that welled in your eyes were unavoidable. You needed to hear that. As you felt a few fall down your cheeks, you walked around the box to where Josh was now stocking a re-release of Lana Del Rey’s Born to Die — Paradise Edition on the old, creaking shelf. 

He made a sound of surprise as you wrapped your arms around him in a bear hug, holding on for dear life. It didn’t take him long to adjust to the feeling, though, as he enveloped you all the same. His familiar, strong arms wrapped around you just as they always had in times like these. Times where he’d said exactly what you needed to hear without knowing it. He was an empath through and through. 

And God were you thankful for him. You didn’t deserve him. Your tears continued for a bit, wetting his white t-shirt. Breathing in, and sniffing a bit to rid yourself of the tears, you backed away after squeezing him once more. His eyes were searching yours when you let go of him. Ever-attentive, reading you however he could whenever he felt the need. . . 

“I’d say he was on to something,” was all he remarked, going back to the records. “Let’s get these done and get the hell out of here, what do you say?”

“Yeah,” you responded, your voice still wet.

“Oh, and speaking as someone who loves the fuckin’ shit out of you, I need you to start taking care of yourself and rid your life of what is making you feel so sad,” he softly advised. You glanced over to him, seeing him still going about his task, but talking away. “You deserve to feel happy and whole. . .and I need you to do whatever it takes for you to feel that way. Please take care of yourself, love.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

Once you finished and were heading out the door with Josh, you decided that you were going to try your best to let yourself feel free tonight. It was what you needed. One last hurrah as senior year kicked off. 

And one last night with Jake before you did what you knew you had to do. . . You had to be done with him. All it was doing was dragging you down. And, talking to Josh tonight had made you realize, once again, that you couldn’t chance him finding out about you and his brother. You knew he would feel utterly betrayed by you, and he was far too important to you for you to risk that. 

Jake was also important— his career was shooting off and you were not the right person to join him on that new journey in his life. In your opinion, no one should join him on that journey. . . It was his and his alone. But if he were to have someone on that path with him, Maya was a much better candidate for it than you. 

Chances were, she was probably the one that he wanted on that next step of his life as well. She was the ideal person to take that leap with him. Utterly supportive. Unselfish. Completely beautiful. . . The perfect girlfriend for a rockstar. 

Continuing things with Jake made no sense. There was no use pretending that what you had with him was actually meant to last.

-🌼🌼🌼-

When you got home, you immediately went to the bathroom to refresh. You decided to take off your makeup and wash your face. Knowing yourself too well, you knew it wouldn’t happen later when you were three sheets to the wind. Josh had followed in directly behind you. He started telling the guys what he needed before they began. He started with his long-haired twin. 

“Food, Jacob?!” Josh yelled in the direction of the kitchen, from which you smelled delicious smells wafting. 

“Aye aye, Captain Stick-Up-Your-Ass,” Jake replied loudly.

“And what did you decide to pick from your expansive catalog of recipes?” Josh said, slapping something. You could assume it was Sam when you heard the younger brother’s voice exclaim with an “ow!” 

Then you heard Jake’s voice, like velvet, but loud enough for Josh to hear.

“Ramen bowls,” he called back. “She loves them.”

Your heart leapt at that. Why was he being so sweet? Was he like this with her? Remembering her favorite meals?

Because he was already making the food that Josh was demanding, Jake hadn’t taken notice of you when you'd come in alongside Josh. So you’d been able to slip past unnoticed. No one had acknowledged you, in fact. Sam and Danny had been too busy on the couch, flipping through their phones, showing each other different women on Tinder when you’d passed through the living room.

“Incense. Samuel, your job— did you bring any like I asked?”

Halfway paying attention, you heard Sammy give an agreeing grunt. 

“Let’s start lighting ‘em up, then,” he commanded. He snapped his fingers, probably right in Sam’s face. “No time to waste, Sam. Come on.” 

Then, grumbling, you heard Sam tell Josh to “fuck himself”. But you assumed he’d done as he was told with his aromatics, as you smelled the familiar heady scent of incense. The scent he’d chosen was Godsent. Ideal for your state of unrest.

The lovely scent of lavender was already whirling from the front of the apartment, straight to your room. Even with the door closed, you were catching the relaxing smell.

“God, I love the smell of lavender,” your roommate said, pure admiration in his tone. “Instant serenity.”

Sam responded, pride in his voice as he explained his choice. “We all know y/n has been stressed,” they all know? “So I chose lavender for its properties to cleanse, heal, and bring happiness. I was also considering its elements for peace, harmony, relaxation, and love. I wanted her to feel all of those things. She needs it.”

Your heart felt whole. You did feel the love. 

But your thoughts flew around, bumping the sides of your head. ‘She needs it.’ What is that even supposed to mean? 

“Yeah, she’s just been off. I want her to be able to feel more like herself,” Jake voiced, sighing. “I’m still not sure about the weed. I don’t want her to feel any lack of control— because that might make her worry more.”

Stop showing how much you care, Jake. It hurts and it’s going to give something away.

But keep going, too. . . Please. For me.

It was Josh’s turn to sigh. “Jacob, I’ve told you. This is something she’s done with us before. All of us. Besides you, of course, I’m assuming,” he paused, slowly iterating his next words. “She and Elsie used to do it with us, like, once a fuckin’ month as a ritual to bond and decompress from life.” His tone was exasperated, as if he’d explained a million times what he’d just said. And he wasn’t wrong. You could confirm everything he was saying. 

He continued. “She can handle her green. I promise. I’ve done it with her time and again.” Then, his voice got stern, unwavering. “I would never recommend she partake in something that would make her feel out of control. That’s not me. Take a second to remember that,” he leveled. “But she does need to feel the peace and freeness that comes with marijuana’s natural magic. We all know it works wonders to ease the chaos within the human mind.” 

“Okay,” Jake relented. “I’ll take the bait. I believe you.”

“Thank you. Now, I’m going to start making things cozy, cue up some music. . .,” Josh said. “Daniel, dim the lighting. I’m gonna light some candles.”

You started pilfering through your drawer of leggings. You found your favorite pair. The pair that made your ass pop. Then you sorted through your drawer of cropped tanks. Once you’d found the one you wanted, you felt your cheeks heat. 

Did you want to do this? Dress like this? Was it a stupid idea? Was this foolish? A smart idea? It would be stupid to deny who you were wanting to dress like this for. . . But should you do it? Would it be obvious?

You dress like this all the time, y/n, a kind of voice reassured you within your cluttered mind. It wouldn’t be abnormal for you to wear it. 

Jake’s voice cut through your internal ramble.

“Are we having a fucking orgy, Josh?” Jake asked. His hearty chuckle and the blatant mention of sex made your chest tighten and your stomach flip as you gripped the gray cami in your fist. 

“Jake!” Josh’s voice snapped, offended. He was out of breath, as if he’d been busy working away at his self-given task. “No one in this humble abode has had sex with another, and I don’t plan on starting that tonight.”

Your heart rate sped up. All of a sudden, you were completely aware of your state of undress from where you were squatting next to your dresser. Naked (save for your bra and panties), in your bedroom. And the fact that Jake was out there, alone. 

You suddenly longed to be close to him. For more than one wanting reason. One reason left your heart pumping in your ears and your underwear feeling obscenely constrictive.

The lesser reason being, you were dying to know what Jake’s reaction to that had been. But you hadn’t heard him make a peep. If you were being honest with yourself, you knew his reaction had been subdued, playing it off. He wouldn’t outwardly expose it. You knew him better than to assume that. 

I really do need to be better at giving him the benefit of the doubt, you thought, sadly. 

You knew it was too little too late. 

Then you heard Josh laugh. The same little laugh he’d do when he would think of something he found funny. “Now if Elsie were here. . .”

You heard all three of them say “Josh!” in unison to his remark, having joined in if you were in there, too.

“What?! The girl knows how to twist that tight body just righ—.”

“Lalala,” Sam sang to himself. You imagined him covering his ears, masking Josh’s voice. 

“What?! She is the best I’ve ever—.”

“Josh, with all due respect,” Danny’s soft voice cut through. “Please shut the fuck up.”

Yes, you thought. Ew, Josh. 

“Brother,” Jake chimed in, once again calling from where he most likely still stood in the kitchen. “Dinner is ready. So, please, come stuff your face and let our ears breathe.”

And, as if your stomach truly was in tune with it all, it grumbled.

-🌼🌼🌼-

Dinner was incredibly delicious (as you knew it would be), resulting in it being downed in no time. 

The five of you had sat around your little dinner table to eat, and it’d felt so nice. But the entire time, you never looked across the table at Jake. You’d also avoided him as you made your plate, only glancing at him out of the corner of your eye to give him a small ‘thank you’ as he talked to Josh. He’d blinked a few times and responded with a “Y-yeah, of course.” 

But now, as you sat around the table after supper, you wouldn’t dare look at him. It was a lot to get the courage to do so. 

For one, as weird as it was, it kind of intimidated you to do so. He intimidated you. . . Especially now that you’d gotten a good look at his other pick of women. The ones that weren’t you. Maya was exquisitely stunning. Just like the one he’d made out with months ago on the couch— the day he brought the lavender to you at work. (The day you’d been an asshole to him, yet again, for no reason.)

You knew you weren’t as beautiful as either of those women. He was far too out of your league. You’d known this to begin with. It was all just repeatedly slapping you in the face now. . . Like normal, he made you all nervous and jittery. But it was different now. You knew you didn’t measure up, and it was embarrassing that he’d ever given you a chance, honestly. Embarrassing for him.

Every negative thought that you could have was tearing at you. . . It was as if seeing Maya that first day, and then hearing what you did from Sam had just set everything off. Everything. 

As you watched Josh and Sam pick at one another’s opinions on the most idiotic things, you spaced out, pondering why you were feeling so much all at once. Was this another result of your childhood trauma? The overthinking? Or was this just you, being a complete trainwreck of a human being? 

Either way, it was ridiculous and you wanted to be rid of the thoughts immediately. It was getting really old really fast. But you couldn’t shake them. Because, despite how annoying it was that they wouldn’t leave you be, you still felt they were true. 

And had been true since you were a kid. Practically since you were born. The facts could not lie. You weren’t good enough for your own mother. You’d been relentlessly terrible towards Elsie growing up. You’d been consistently unfair towards Jake. . . 

There was very little good about you, and you were starting to feel it put a damper on all things in your life.

God. You desperately needed therapy. Your struggles with anxiety were becoming all encompassing. The depression was sprouting without welcome.

He’s shown plenty of interest, y/n, your kind, consoling inner medium expressed. Stop acting like you’re less than the other women. Please. You know better. Don’t let your thoughts get ahead of you. . . 

Damn that voice sounded more and more like Elsie any time it managed to break through the darkness of your mind.

Sam’s cackle brought you back to reality from your mess of cluttered, stressful, spiraling thoughts. 

“That’s what I’m saying!” Sam exclaimed, pointing directly at his best friend who was sitting across the table from you, right next to Jake. “Thank you, Daniel!”

Josh’s scoff under his breath would have been highly noticeable even if you hadn’t been sitting next to him. You looked to your right to observe him and his reaction. 

“Birkenstocks are highly, highly overrated,” he insisted. “I seriously thought you were above the trends, Sammy. . . Now all I can assume is that you primarily care to partake in the highly popular things like other, normal people.”

“I’m not normal!” Sam declared, completely aghast at the comment. “Take it back, Josh.”

“Seems that you’re pop music personified. . .,” Jake said, teasing Sam as Josh had. 

Without even meaning to, too lost in everything going on around you now, you shot Jake a glare. And a response. 

“Shut the fuck up, Jake,” you intervened, your tone serious, but voice catching a little on his name. 

Apparently, of all things, talk of sandals were what could break your vow of avoiding Jake at all costs. Honestly, it was just Sam’s doleful reaction to Jake’s words. He’d gasped, his eyes curving down even more than normal, lip sticking out.  

Once you’d connected eyes with Jake, you got lost for a few seconds in the rich pools of chocolate that made up his deep set eyes. . .  It was kind of like a readjustment. You were really looking at him for the first time in days. Your ridiculously hot roommate. The same man you’d memorized in every way you could for the past month or so. . . You were reacquainting yourself with his features. 

You didn’t want to admit it, but. . . It felt like a piece of your heart was clicking back into place— after you’d given him the cold shoulder all week. His eyes felt so familiar and warm.

Initially, his eyes had widened. He’d seemed shocked that you’d spoken to him at all. But, after he’d stared at you for a moment, he raised a smart brow. Your heart rate increased at the action.

Then, he resituated, pushing his chair back from the table just enough to show his spread legs. You couldn’t control it when you glimpsed his crotch for five seconds. It was as if you were unable to resist— you’d finally taken the bait and broken the fine ice between you two. So, it seemed your eyes worked on their own and made up for lost time. . . Just for a few seconds. 

It’s been a fucking week, y/n, the snarky voice in your head mocked. You are too fucking weak for him. Why did you let him in? How are you going to be able to completely cut him off? Weak.

You noticed him push his hips up and out to lean back a bit. The action effectively shut off the voice in your head and made you twitch for him in your leggings.

I sure as hell am weak, you sassed back. And right now, I don’t care. And it’s been nine days. Not a week. 

He crossed his arms over his chest, flexing his strong, skilled fingers into his toned biceps. Not meaning to, you licked your bottom lip. 

Your body was craving him. Yearning for him. You’d gotten used to regular sex with him, and the nine days you’d been abstaining from it were catching up to you. How were you going to be able to cut yourself completely off?

You weren’t ready for that yet. 

But you have to be, the familiar voice reminded you. Enjoy it while it lasts because it’s almost over. You’re only hurting yourself more by extending this ridiculous escapade.

I’m already hurting. Fuck it. I will enjoy it while it lasts, you fought back, shoving the voice off of your shoulders for the time being. Josh is right. Tonight is about me feeling fucking free.

You accepted the challenge. The situation. You were ready to give in to the evening. Your insecurities could wait. They’d have their time soon. Tonight you wanted to ignore all of it. Now that you’d gotten a taste, you wanted to take a damn bite.

Skin now hot and senses tingling with his name, you peeked back at his face and found his waiting expression. Your eyebrow raised, too, darkening eyes trained on his. The way he was watching you, it was like he was testing you. But you weren’t going to give in too easily. Your heart was still hurting, and you weren’t going to bend at just anything. He could work for it. 

Just like you’d convinced yourself earlier. . . This was one last hurrah. Might as well make the most of it. Drag it out. Just for tonight.

“I’m tired of the obnoxious assholery filling up this room,” you stated, looking away from Jake to address the other two Kiszkas. “Let’s burn a few so you guys will shut the hell up.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

The haze had your mind in the clouds, but not so elevated that you weren’t aware of the happenings all around you. A good state, where your mind could still make cognitive sense of everything, but high enough that all of your worries vanished with each wave of smoke you blew from your mouth. You learned from Elsie the ‘proper’ way to get high, as she called it. One long, drawn out inhale of the smoke, fully filling your lungs and holding it as long as you could before blowing it out in one slow exhale. Less coughing that way, and the most effective way to really feel the effects without it being so intense. 

You’ve never loved the feeling of being completely inebriated. Far too often you’ve lost control of your intake, and at that point it would open the hypothetical doors to your past, forcing you to sit in your feelings. Too much of it could be dangerous for your psyche. But, you’ve learned how to control it. You’d discovered the perfect amount that had you feeling weightless and free, your body tickling with the warm fuzzy feeling that allowed you to finally relax. 

All of you had your own designated spot in the room– whether it be on blankets, pillows, the couch, or the armchair. You’d been given the couch to lay upon to smoke (as you’d been given first dibs, per Josh’s requirement). 

And the man who couldn’t escape your mind sat a few feet away from you, perfectly placed in your line of sight on a pile of blankets and pillows. His hands were in his lap, his legs crossed at the ankles, and his broad shoulders eased while his head laid back. 

Josh sat above him on the armchair, his limbs loosened to noodles. Just as Josh started to lay back and close his eyes, he sat up lazily. His eyes, reddened and heavy-lidded, looked around to survey the rest of you.

“We’re in desperate need of some tunes,” Josh said, dragging out the words with a giant grin plastered to his face. “Anyone opposed?

You were laid back against the arm of the couch, sprawled out. And you barely heard him as you’d become utterly transfixed on Jake. . . how he’d balanced the base of his head on the ottoman of the chair, eyes closed as he most surely let the feeling of smoke in him and around him delight his system. 

The other two had agreed, but you hardly paid them or Josh any mind. You didn’t wholly process him searching your vinyl collection, picking one from the top. 

“Ah, yes. Perfection at its finest,” he made an approving sound with his teeth as he placed the disc on the turntable and read the tracklisting. “This woman was spellbinding.”

At once, you heard the silken scratching of the vinyl from the needle as the record began to spin. An all too familiar album began playing. 

Your head perked up as much as it could while simultaneously feeling stuck in the clouds. Sam and Danny were basically gone, just bobbing their heads a little to the rhythm. But they seemed to be fading away by the way they rolled their heads further and further back against their pillows. 

Josh had a goofy smile on his face as he settled back into his chair, his hair fluffing around him as he softly nodded his head in tandem with her voice. 

You let your eyes travel to Jake for a brief moment, and saw that his eyes were still closed, but now his chest was rising and falling steadily. Had he fallen asleep?

Momentarily, you were disappointed. But you soon realized just how nice sleep sounded. . . Especially when you looked away from Jake to see his counterpart, completely zonked out with his mouth hanging open. Quiet snores were emitting from both of them, but Josh’s were louder thanks to his wide open mouth. Jake’s were barely there. . . more heavy breaths than anything. You knew it meant he’d drowsed only moments ago, a deep slumber not fully taking him yet.

You started to doze off a bit, settling into the way her soulful voice could lull you into a sweet slumber. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

You didn’t know what it was that jostled you awake. 

Maybe it had been the song change, and you’d just somehow caught on to this song while in dreamland. . . this wonderful song. . . dammit. 

I will go where you lead

I'll be right there in a time of need

And when I lose my will

You'll be right there to push me up that hill

You sunk into the feeling of it, but your attention was caught again.

There was muffled shuffling happening in the distance, your senses heightened by the smoke, helping you catch on to the smallest of sounds. Motherly instincts to your lovely feline child, who was sure to be causing the ruckus. 

What was Stevie getting herself into?

Lifting your head, you turned it to follow the noise happening in the distance. It was dark due to the late hour. . . you could hardly see. The candles, your only light source. 

From what you could tell, the sound was coming from the kitchen. Curiosity was pushing you into a sitting position. You rose without difficulty, your bearings coming back to you little by little. You’d smoked just enough for the escape, but the clarity was still there. Weed was so miraculous that way. Giving an individual just what he or she might need from it. It could mold to the requirements of its enjoyer. Aware as you were, the air around you still felt slow and heady. . . you felt every energy all at once. It made your head swim just a tad. 

As you stood, your legs felt like air. You rooted yourself into the sureness of the flat ground. The carpet tickled your bare toes, but you concealed the little sigh that threatened to escape you at the sensation. You were doing your best to not bother the snoozing bodies littered around you. 

From your new viewpoint, your eyes swept the room. Dreamily deciding to save the best for last, you started at one side of the room. You squinted at Sammy and Danny first. They were cuddled into their own blankets on their separate pallets, but facing towards one another still.

Next, you looked for Josh, who you didn’t really have to look for since you heard his snores before you saw him. Drool was gathered at the corner of his mouth, opened just as it had been when you’d closed your own eyes. Something caused him to rustle in his sleep, making him jump a little and sniff, one snore resulting in a snort. But just as he’d been shaken, his mouth was opened yet again, snores even louder this time. The drool slipped down his chin. You cringed. He was not an attractive sleeper. 

His twin on the other hand. . .the most beautiful sleeper you’d ever laid sleepy eyes on. So, you finally set your gaze where you'd been desiring. 

. . .To find nothing. No Jake. Where did he go?

Even amidst the wispy cloud of your mind, you immediately assumed the worst.

Had he invited Maya over? Had that been the sound? God you hoped not.

Even still, your feet moved on their own, all the way to the kitchen from the living room. . . you saw Stevie on your way there, asleep on the top of the couch. She’d nestled right above you. Naturally, you just hadn’t caught on because of your brain fog.

Not knowing what you were about to find, you rounded the corner. And what you found made your eyes water so quickly. The sight was so plain, so simple. . .but so incredibly wholesome.

Your whispered voice broke the silence. 

“Why are you watering my lavender?”

He jumped a bit, the tiny, gilded watering pail you’d gotten for it still mid-air when he blinked in your direction, his eyes adjusting to the vast darkness in your shared home.

“I was just putting dinner up and it looked a little wilty,” he said, sounding ‘wilty’ himself. “Have you not watered it recently?”

Shit. While immersed in your unreasonable head for the past several days, you’d ignored the plant. 

“No,” you responded, not providing an explanation. 

“I understand,” he said, a small grin on his lips and honesty in his eyes, even darker in the shadowy lighting. A candle on the bar was the only way you could make him out. “School starting and all. I bet your stress has been high because of that.”

“Yeah,” you absentmindedly agreed. But his words rang again in your head, things clicking slower with the pot. “Also, stop telling people I’m stressed,” you griped, crossing your arms (partially to keep yourself balanced). “Or sad. You don’t know.”

He emptied the rest of the water into the soil, feeling it with his fingers before washing his hands. Then he turned to you, his face pinched with shock. He shook his head a bit, his longer waves swaying at his collarbone. “It’s obvious you have been.”

Fuck. You knew you’d been transparent. It was something you flourished at– wearing your heart on your sleeve. And that also meant you were shit at masking your emotions. But why did he care?

“Okay, say I have. Still not your business to share,” you asserted, with a final nod of your head. 

He nodded, pushing his lip out. He lifted his hand to his chin to rub it a bit, a sign you’d learned to mean that he agreed. “That is fair. I’m sorry.”

You felt your head rock a bit and shut your eyes briefly to reset. The flow of the remaining green in your system was making you a bit dizzy. And while you were still with it and aware of yourself and your surroundings, you knew that it was probably time to go to bed. It was also getting to be too much talking to Jake like normal. 

Things weren’t normal. And you couldn’t pretend they were. It made your heart feel all blue. As much as you missed him–just talking to him, you decided to use sleep as the reason to excuse yourself. Before you told him every tiny thing on your mind. You knew yourself too well– when weed entered the picture, there was no concealing a single thought that crossed your mind. 

“I’m going to bed,” you said, turning away from him and starting the walk to your bedroom, your heart still with him and the fucking lavender in the kitchen window.

But just as you’d made it to your door, opening it just a smidge, you felt a warm hand encompass yours, which still twisted around the knob. You could have fallen into him. It felt so good to simply feel his touch. God, he really was so warm. So safe. So cozy. So Jake.

He doesn’t feel the same for you, the fucking nagging voice said, slipping through the thickness of the marijuana. You aren’t those things to him.

Go the fuck home, you told the voice, pissed beyond belief that it had managed to enter your hazy realm of escapism.

“I am home,” he said, his voice low and hot on your neck. The feeling grew goosebumps immediately. 

Fuck. You’d said it out loud. That was embarrassing as hell.

“I was talking to myself,” you revealed honestly–crazily, angling your head so you could speak over your shoulder to him. And just as you did, it became obvious just how close he was to you. His collar, level with your eyes. You looked up a bit to find him watching you. Carefully. Warily. But intensely all the same. 

“That’s endearing,” he said, the humor in his tone making you suddenly angry. 

You turned on your heel, resulting in him moving away from you a few inches.

No. Come back.

You fought the desperation in your veins. The desperation making your heart beat wildly in your chest.

“Why did you follow me? Acting like you care?” You said, your voice hushed and eyes flicking a bit so you could actually handle looking him in the eyes. “Stop with the bullshit.”

“Woah,” he screwed his eyes slightly at you, his voice level meeting yours. “You know I care.” 

He took one more step back. 

What are you doing? Stop leaving me.

You just left him, you idiot, your familiar, inner monster said, judging you.

“No. You don’t care. Not actually. And if you do, I know it’s not just for me,” the words spilled out, humiliating you. “I’ve had the past few days to realize that.”

Oh, fuck. Here comes honesty hour.

He crossed his arms at his chest. His biceps were distracting. Goddamn.

“So that’s what’s been wrong?”

You gave yourself a tiny moment to evaluate him. He seemed way too sober for this conversation to be an even playing field.

“Are you not high?”

He cracked a smile, nodding his head. “Yes, I am,” he looked down, seeming a little embarrassed. If the lighting wasn’t so dark, you could guess you’d see a blush on the apples of his cheeks. “Just done it enough that it looks different on me. Trust me, my head is fuckin’ swimming. Dizzy and shit . . . just didn’t want to fall asleep in there and get a crick in my neck. And I figured I’d put dinner away since I’m still more present than not. . .,” he paused, looking up at you. “But, I assure you, I’m definitely not all here.”

You had to giggle a little in spite of it all. God, he was so fucking endearing. You couldn’t put it into words at that moment, but. . . damn. The way he was— so many things about him that you lo—. . . fuck.

“That’s exactly how I feel, too,” you admitted, your eyes innocently meeting his. 

His smile widened, face relaxing. But the change in demeanor broke your heart and made your defenses rise. Emotions were breaking loose again. . .

“Okay, so,” you shook your head, rubbing your temples to re-center. You glanced at him again. “If you do care, why did you ignore me on Friday?”

He shook his head once. “Ignore you? I literally talked to you. I’ll go get my phone right now to prove it.” You flushed thinking of the conversation. How badly you’d wanted him. . . still wanted him. He kept going, saying, “I also wanted to talk to you when I got home. But you were already asleep. I didn’t want to wake you.”

I wasn’t asleep, you wanted to say. I was just sad. Crying because of you.

“You stormed off. Didn’t even try to talk to me about how you were feeling,” you said, words quiet, yet cutting the air. “Made it obvious that I matter so little to you that I wasn’t even worth talking to when you were upset. Tell me how little I matter to you. Just say it.”

“Fuck– god, no. I won’t,” he brought the heels of his hands to his eyes. “I don’t ever want you to think you matter little to me– you are literally every– fuck. I don’t know what to say.”

“I don’t matter as much as Maya,” you said, finishing his sentence with a forlorn statement, in a snarky tone of voice. Your heart leapt into your throat at having mentioned her so boldly. There it was. Out in the open. “That’s why you didn’t want to talk to me. Just wanted to talk to her.”

He looked at you, a thousand thoughts swirling behind his bourbon-colored irises. His lips pursed, then he released a tight exhale, his eyes resting directly on you as if he’d decided to tell you something. Ready to break your heart, surely.

“Say it, Jake,” your voice cracked on his name.

Jake huffed. “Y/n, you are the reason I was so fucking pissed that day. I wasn’t going to talk to you about–.”

“Me?!” You blanched, perplexed that he could pin anything on you. All you’d done was be there to support him the best you could. You pointed a finger in your chest, “What did I,” and then at him, “do to you, asshole?!”

The name slipped out. You hated that you’d said it. But, you did. 

“I didn’t say you did anything to me. Will you let me explain?”

“Go ahead,” you motioned your hand, the action feeling slow with the marijuana lacing itself through your veins.

“I was embarrassed as fuckin’ shit that my cord gave out at that festival,” he began, words a little sluggish. I could’ve guessed that. “And for a second, I was embarrassed about it happening in front of so many people. . . but immediately after, before I could think about that, I thought about how you had come out to that festival, so excited and sexy as hell ready to see me perform, and I couldn’t even hold up my end of the deal. I wanted to impress you, and I failed,” he shook his head, looking down, away from you, his hands coming up to cover his face.

You wanted to believe him. But you’d gotten so used to combatting him, that you couldn’t help reject his words. “Sounds fake.”

Instantly, he dropped his hands, letting them slap against his thighs. His eyes were wide. “Are you serious right now?” He sounded sad. Hurt. “I bare my heart to you and all you can do is tell me I sound fake?” 

Putting your defenses down, you truly thought about it. Maybe. . . maybe he was telling the truth.

All your life, you had been so quick to expect the worst of people. You had never let yourself believe anyone could have good intentions. Why would you? After everything you’d been through, after how many people had hurt you to the point of severe trauma, it only made sense that your first instinct would be to not trust that anyone had your best interest at heart. But, staring at the man in front of you, his eyes begging you to believe him, his chest falling and rising with deep, slow breaths. . . all of his emotions, on blatant display. . . you thought of him and the person he’d been for you recently. How you had so openly shared things with him. . . Maybe he felt the same with you? Even if it sounded slightly ridiculous. . . It would be harsh to judge him for that. 

“I’m sorry,” you said, bowing your head. 

You felt two tender, calloused fingers lift your chin. Your body lit up at his touch. Eyes grew tears. . .

You just kept talking, feeling comfortably vulnerable under his stare.

“I thought she was here tonight.”

“Who?” He rubbed his thumb smoothly over your chin, holding your face so gently.

“Maya.”

He let go of you, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Fuck. I knew you would jump to conclusions with Sam saying what he did the other night.”

“I didn’t have to jump to any conclusions. I saw it with my own eyes. Heard Josh–,” you stopped yourself. Even in this dazed state, you knew that telling him you’d heard his conversation with Josh wasn’t a good idea. 

“Heard Josh. . . what?” He raised a brow.

“Nothing,” you shook your head.

He rolled his eyes. “Okay. Whatever you heard any of them say– can you believe me?” He asked, begging you with his profoundly engaging irises. “Please?”

You knew what you felt though. What you’d heard him say in response to Josh– what you’d seen with your eyes. You’d dug yourself a massive hole of winding thoughts. . . you weren’t sure who or what to believe. So, you responded simply. “I don’t know, Jake.”

He put a hand over his eyes, then removed it to question you. “Why?”

“I’m not getting into that right now,” you asserted, looking away and covering your face as he had his. When you looked back at him, and into his eyes, you let your guard down slightly. “You know why. It’s my specialty.”

“Okay . . .,” he accepted, his tone gentle and understanding. “We’ll just let that sit for now. Back to your initial assumption tonight, though. . . have I ever brought her here?”

“I’m assuming.”

“Stop assuming.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” you bit back.

“I’m only telling you that so you can stop hurting yourself. You spiral. I know this about you,” he reasoned carefully.

“That’s fucking rude.”

“Whatever. It’s true and you basically just said it yourself. I do it, too. So, fair’s fair,” he retorted, his tone indicating annoyance. “But to answer my question to you, for you– No. The answer is no. I’ve never brought her here.”

“What about that night with the sweet, unforgettable earplug remark?”

“Really? Unforgettable? Why do you insist–?” He growled low under his breath, shaking his head a little. “Whatever. Never mind. That was a different woman. I hadn’t even met Maya yet. Sam was exaggerating– per usual. I haven’t been seeing her since I moved here. I saw her briefly. . . from mid-June to, like, mid-July.”

“You continued seeing her after Baby’s?”

“I didn’t think you wanted me,” he clarified. “And I was an idiot. She was a woman who wanted to have sex with me, and I like sex. I was just being stupid.”

“That’s probably all I am to you, though,” you said, making him aware of your surmise. His face said he wanted to insert something, but you kept talking. “I’m just someone you can have sex with– because you like sex. Which, I do, too. But I just. . .,” you swept two feather light hands through your hair. “I don’t know why I want it to be more. But I do and . . . that’s going against everything I said. . .and I. . .” You closed your lids and groaned, irritated with your heart.

The fingers were under your chin again, your eyes opening to look at him at the contact. “Because it feels so natural being more. I get it. It’s not bad.”

“Yes it is,” you said, tearing your face away from his hand. “Because you don’t want that with me. I saw how she interacted with you after her lesson the other day. At the festival. I mean, you invited her to the festival. She was backstage with you. . . acting like a girlfriend or some shit the whole damn time. And then when she ran for you when you were upset. . .acting like she had done it a thousand times.”

“Well, she hasn’t. . .” he affirmed, his voice hard and leaving no room for disagreement. “And, yes, she is sweet and I liked having sex with her because she’s a good person who helped me a lot during a hard time with some much needed pep talks. . . but everything at the festival was her taking too much upon herself. Also, she invited herself to that. I didn’t invite her. And when she got there, Sam saw her and had her come backstage. I don’t know why he’s so insistent on hooking us up again.”

Oh.

He continued. “Y/n. . . I don’t know how else to say it. Anyway I say it, I feel like you won’t believe me. But– god, she’s just not you. I would never be able to feel the things for her that I do for you. It was– I emphasize, was– just sex with her; but with you? It's been. . .it’s more. You are more. I can’t explain it. . .my heart aches for you in ways it never did with her—with anyone.”

His velvet voice sent a flutter to your heart. You heard the genuine truth behind it, and the way his eyes never once left yours. His eyes, that said so much more than his words ever could. 

“I don’t want her. I want you. At my shows. In my bed every night and every morning, waking me with your mouth or your sweet pussy. . .I just—goddammit. Fuck. I fucking love you, y/n. I love you. No one else.”

Your next words couldn’t have been stopped if you tried. 

“I love you too,” fell smoothly from your lips, like the purest golden honey.

He stopped—his reddened, heavy eyes zeroing in on yours. He gave a tiny shake of his head.

“Y–you do?”

You couldn’t believe your own words. Really. Well. . .could you? They’d slipped from your lips so easily, with no time to overthink them, like you always seemed to do. Because you didn’t have to think about it– you couldn’t overthink that—because it was true. It came out so naturally, so authentically, just as it was. You hadn’t even realized you felt it yet; you hadn’t given yourself the chance to fully feel it—but there was no doubt. You did. You couldn’t hide it from yourself any longer. 

His blown out irises penetrated yours—the eyes that confirmed everything he’d just told you to be completely true.

“Jesus, Jake. Of course I fucking do.”

Who moved first, you’d never know.

But your lips met his with unbridled need. You moaned at the feeling of his soft lips enveloping yours. . . the way he sucked your mouth gently into his own– tasting you with the tip of his tongue as he did so. When you moaned again, he pushed you back with his hips, a hand gripping one of yours. You grabbed his ass tightly as if to hang on, never wanting to let go of him. The only place to go was your room, your door ajar just enough that it opened easily on its own. He reached a hand behind him to close it gently– so as not to wake anyone. 

Your lamp, still left on, just as it had been earlier in the evening, shed the perfect amount of golden light. You grabbed his cheeks, pulling him away from you momentarily to appreciate his features. Finally out of the dark you could look at him. And, God, you loved his face. Everything about it, having been so intricately and delicately created. . .making the most beautiful man you’d ever laid eyes on. 

A quiet smirk graced his perfect lips, his eyes tightly locked with yours. “What’s the matter?” he asked, his hushed, now-sultry voice making your need for him that much more heightened. 

You thought a moment before you answered. With all of your feelings for him finally becoming realized in your own mind, there was just so much you felt you needed to say. So much you needed him to know. As you stared in his sparkling eyes, pupils pure black from the weed and his need for you, the only word your mind could conjure up was love. Over and over again. Not just the word, but the feeling; the new desire for him that went far beyond the purely physical one that you’d tried so hard to convince yourself of. 

But it wasn’t new; it had been clear all along. You’d just shoved it down to the deepest trenches of your mind, only to be discovered by the most skilled explorer. There was so much you wanted to say, but you just couldn’t conjure the proper words. For once, you’d been left nearly speechless by your intense infatuation for him that you had finally allowed yourself space to fully realize. 

You decided your body could do all the talking. It could say more than your voice ever could.

“Nothing,” you whispered against his lips as you pulled him in for the deepest kiss you’re certain the two of you had ever shared with one another.

He led you backwards to your bed, your lips staying connected the entire time. With hardly any effort, he swiftly scooped you up and placed you on the bed, his lips only leaving yours to attach to your neck to suck on the tight flesh. His fingers toyed with the strap of your top, teasing it slowly down your shoulder. His mouth followed it with wet, barely there kisses on your skin with each movement down your arm. He then moved to the other arm, doing the exact same thing as his mouth began setting your whole body alight. 

He was taking his time. He wanted to enjoy every part of your body, savoring you in ways he always had but this time, it was different. His need was far beyond just wanting to fuck you; he wanted to love you. 

He dragged his lips across your collarbone, moving to the middle of your chest, then taking the fabric still covering you between his teeth as he pulled a little. 

“Take this off,” he whispered, “need to taste these pretty tits.” 

You groaned, wasting no time removing the barrier. You tossed it across the room with such eagerness you should’ve been embarrassed. But you weren’t. Couldn’t be. Not when he was displaying the same eagerness to please you, to feel your body against his own.

He flattened his tongue over a hard bud, slowly dragging it up until the tip flicked your nipple before he closed his lips around it and sucked. He swirled his tongue around, lifting off of it with a string of saliva that still connected him to you as he blew cold air on it. He tweaked it with his fingers, rolling it between his index and thumb as he moved to the other breast to give it the same attention. 

“Jake— fuck. It feels so good.” You were breathing so heavily that your breathless words just barely broke through your parted lips. 

But he heard you. And he smiled in retort against your chest as he continued lapping and sucking at you, using his teeth to graze your nearly too sensitive nipple. You were already nearing your break, feeling the pulsing between your legs keeping up with the erratic beating of your heart. 

He grabbed both your breasts, pushing them together and licking one long and steady stripe up the middle where his strong hands connected them. 

“Goddamn,” He spoke against your skin; you felt every word from his lips across your supple flesh. “I will never get enough of these, baby. So fucking perfect.” 

As good as he was making you feel, you were becoming increasingly more desperate. You needed him in your pussy. His mouth, his fingers, his cock. Fucking anything. You were throbbing for him. You weaved your trembling hands through his tangled hair, trying to guide him the rest of the way down your body. 

“Jake, please. I need you.” Your labored breathing made it incredibly hard to be able to form a single coherent word. 

He giggled as he made his descent down your heaving belly, stopping to plant an open mouthed kiss over your belly button as your body shuddered almost uncontrollably. 

“Easy, baby,” he said between leaving kitten licks just above the waistband of your leggings. “You know I’ll give you what you want. Don’t I always? Just let me take my time with you– need to worship this glorious fucking body.” 

Your heart swelled at his words. He thought your body was deserving of being worshiped. Who were you to rush him? And he was right. He was always the most generous lover, never stopping until you were fully satisfied with everything you needed. He pulled your leggings down just a little, enough to expose your hip bones and the top of your purple lace thong. He sucked a dark mark on the tight skin of your hip, sending a flood to your already soaked core as you gasped so loud you reached your hand up to cover your gaping mouth. 

“Let them hear,” he groaned as he smiled. “They’re in our fucking place, aren’t they? If they don’t like it, they can leave.” 

Our place. 

Those words that had once felt so poisoned, that would have made you cringe at the mere sound of them— they suddenly felt so right as they comfortably glided off his tongue that was caressing you wonderfully.

Though, you weren’t quite ready for them to know about this. . . Despite your ever-present fear of Josh finding out, there was just something about it only being between you and Jake. Especially now, the way it felt so sacred and special. Just the two of you. No one else. No one. 

Before you could tell him you absolutely did not want them to hear, he tested you a bit further by pulling your leggings off in one swift motion and planting his lips directly on your vibrating clit, still tucked away beneath the purple lace. With how he had perfectly worked you up, you were already so sensitive. You jolted at the contact, nearly screaming “fuck!” into your open palm as the sensation had been heightened in brand new ways. 

“Normally I’d say purple is the most offensive hue,” he ran his middle finger up and down the wet lace, applying a feather light pressure— just enough to have you squirming under his touch. “But you make it look so goddamn magnificent. So fucking beautiful.”

“Fuck Jake. . .” You started bucking your hips up, chasing anything he would give you. 

“I know baby, I know,” he hushed. “I just love seeing you like this. So ready for me, your panties clinging to you. I’m gonna lock that sight away.” 

He hooked his thumbs around the thin string of your thong and pulled it slowly down your hips. The pads of his fingers danced over the skin of your thighs while he rid you of the final hindrance keeping him from where you desired him the most. He lifted your legs over his shoulders as his tongue flicked just once at your swollen clit. You pulled tightly at his hair and he groaned at the feeling, sending a vibration against you as you tried with all of your best efforts to stay quiet.

He took a moment to admire the sight of you, how your trembling body practically begged him to touch you without the need for a single word. As if sensing it, he started leaving the most tender kisses on the inside of your thighs, inching himself closer and closer but never picking up his pace.

He was teasing you to the point of near madness. You were certain the sheets below you were soaked with your arousal. You could hardly stand it any longer. Your need for him had officially surpassed any you had ever felt for him before. 

“J-Jake, please. . .” 

He sucked a few more times on the tender flesh of your thigh before finally wrapping his wet lips around your neglected clit. As he did it, he looked up at your pleasure contorted face with eyes that smiled. You became nearly breathless at the sight of him combined with the feeling of his warm tongue caressing you, devouring you like a starved man enjoying his first meal. 

He pulled you as close to his face as he could with an iron grip on your hips. His eyebrows became creased as he hummed into your sopping and throbbing pussy. The carnal, lewd sounds of him sloppily lapping at you only added to the intensity you felt in the pit of your stomach. . .

. . .until he stopped— leaving you whimpering and squirming for more. 

“Look at me.” His soft, gravelly voice pulled you from your agony of missing his mouth on you, and you did as he said.

Your body shook as you lifted your head to meet his dark, sinful eyes that burned holes straight through yours. 

“You look so fucking beautiful,” he muttered. “And you taste so sweet, baby.” 

He smiled as he leaned down to place a gentle kiss just above your clit, keeping his eyes locked with yours. He lifted off of you and climbed up your quivering body, dragging his lips over any surface area of you he could reach until his nose brushed against yours.

“Jaaake. . .” You nudged your lips against his, feeling his warm breath melt into your skin. “. . .fuck me. Now.” 

He wanted to hear you say it; he needed to hear you say it. 

He lifted his hips up just enough for your wandering hand to reach down between your bodies. You cupped him tightly in your palm, feeling just how desperate he was to get out of the strenuous restriction of his black jeans. 

He hissed as your hand moved up and down his clothed length, teasing him just as he had with you. You reached up and cradled his face with your free hand, drawing patterns into his cheekbone with the pad of your thumb. 

You loved the hitch in his breath, his pleading eyes that begged you to take his jeans off. The sweat that had formed around his hairline. The torment in his eyes that all on their own could have sent you spiraling into the most beautiful release. God, he was so fucking pretty. 

You squeezed your hand around him, feeling him throb as his eyes rolled in the back of his head. He grit his teeth and bite his lower lip so hard you were surprised he didn’t draw blood. 

“Jesus— fuck,” he groaned, the rasp in his voice sending a another wave to core.

You wanted to tease him further, but your own body couldn’t take it any longer. 

You dug into the buckle of his belt and ripped it off of him in one fluid motion, you both gasping at the ‘snap’ sound it made when you pulled it out of the loops of his pants. With one hand, you released the metal button and pulled the zipper of his fly down in record time. Your fingers instantly intertwined with his boxers, reaching inside for his pulsing cock.

“A bit eager, are we?” he patronized, but you knew damn well he needed it as badly as you did. 

“Shut the fuck up, Jacob.”

He huffed a laugh as he aided you in pulling his jeans and boxers down to sit in the middle of his thighs, finally freeing him all the way. 

You wanted to taste him, but the ache in your pussy was far too great to go any longer without him filling you. You wrapped your legs tightly around his hips to angle yourself perfectly with him as he lined himself up with you. Both of his hands settled on either side of your face as he pulled you into a fervid kiss while the tip of his cock nudged your quivering entrance.

He kissed down your jawbone, your neck, pulling your earlobe gently between his teeth. 

“I fucking love you. . .” he purred against your ear, plunging his cock slowly inside of you as he said it. “. . . and god, do I love fucking you.”

You groaned in utter relief when he thrust himself completely inside of you, as deep as he could go. He was still for a moment, feeling your walls clench around the pulsing of his cock. 

“Fuck, Jake. . .” You pulled at the sweat drenched hairs sitting on the nape of his neck while the nails of your other dug into the soft flesh of his hip. 

“I know, baby. . . I feel you. So wet and warm, pulling me in. I fit so well, don’t I?”

You couldn’t even respond to tell him how fucking good he felt buried inside of you. Words had escaped you entirely.

You weren’t sure if it was the weed or if it was because you were finally letting yourself feel everything you’d shoved down for far too long, but the way he felt sitting inside of you was ineffable; he was right. He fit so goddamn well. He had to have been made for you. Fuck. You’d let him stay inside of you for the rest of your life if you could. 

He started pumping in and out of you at a slow pace— you could feel every vein of his thick shaft against your walls as he glided so effortlessly through you. Pulling all the way out to the tip, then back in again, perfectly brushing that wonderful spot within you each time as you felt every inch of him.

He gradually quickened his thrusts, his breaths becoming more and more deep with every calculated movement of his hips. Both of your hands reached behind him to grasp ahold of his back, feeling the muscles beneath your fingertips flex while he fucked himself into you with more intensity. 

“Fuck, baby,” you moaned, clawing at his skin, damp with perspiration from his efforts and the wonderful effects of the weed. You were desiring to feel him as close to you as you possibly could. You were about to finish–you could feel it. Teetering on the edge of sweet relief. . . your walls were fluttering, your clit was pulsing. . . 

The wound-up ball of tension in your tummy was about to let loose. 

His thrusts were getting desperate, his pants and sighs were mixing with yours. And you couldn’t help but look between you, where your bodies met. . . it made your heart beat even more rapidly in your chest, seeing you connected in such a way. It looked so right. You felt full. You felt whole. In your haze, your thoughts couldn’t help but wander as you thought of the final step to feeling close to him. 

Fuck.

As soon as the thought entered your brain, you had to throw your head back in ecstasy. It was almost too much to imagine. 

Your mind was so fucking cloudy– nothing sounded better in that moment than to feel him fully. His release inside of you. . .it would join your bodies completely. And God, you wanted that.

Needed it. And you knew this time might very well be the last. And you had to feel him in that way. Just once. You’d get a Plan-fucking-B in the morning. It would be so incredibly worth it to feel him in that way. 

Just this once. This one last time. It would be the perfect ending to this beautiful chapter of my life, you thought, longing for things to be different. 

“Shit– y/n,” Jake’s voice was needy as he rasped. “You feel so damn good. Fuck. So tight. So wet– smooth as fuckin’ velvet–,” he snapped his hips, the tip of his dick met your tender spot. It was even more tender under the influence– everything was heightened. “Fuck!”

You shook with anticipation, your legs already twitching. And you hadn’t even cum yet. 

“I know, Jakey,” you sighed. You reached a hand down his back, grasping at his firm ass. You held tightly to the plush muscle. It flexed with each push of his hips against you. “Y’feel so good.”

One hand and a forearm was balancing him above you. The hand of the forearm had been tenderly holding your head for the entirety of him fucking you into your mattress. But the other hand that he’d been using for balance moved swiftly to place two fingers below your chin. As he guided your face to look at him, you sighed with relief at the sight of his beautiful eyes– speaking every emotion he wanted to say. 

You felt it with him. Every fucking bit of it. 

His brows were concentrated, pinched with thought and overflowing emotions. 

“I know, sweetie. I feel it, too,” you gasped on the last words. Tears were choking your throat. You didn’t want this to end. But, even now, you knew it had to. Fuck– you wished like hell that you could keep him. But you couldn’t. 

Josh’s words swirled through your mind.

“Now is not the time to be getting involved with anyone.” 

“You know better, Jake. And you know that now is the time to focus on yourself rather than a woman– focusing on anything besides this monumental time in your life could hurt you.”

You knew Josh was correct. You couldn’t be the thing to distract him to the point of him abandoning this dream. 

 “Can you just fucking look out for yourself—just a little bit?” He’d pleaded, his voice breaking a bit. 

Just like your heart now. 

“I just don’t want to see you get hurt again. . . I would just really appreciate it if you cared about yourself the way you deserve.”

You feared he couldn’t do it for himself. Look out for his best interest. If he hadn’t been able to do it before with Amelia, what would stop him from giving himself the short end of the stick for you, too?

And you had to take into consideration how quickly you’d been destroyed by running to any and every conclusion about Maya. . . You could not handle something like this. Emotionally, it was too much for you at this point in your life. Pushing all of the thoughts away, you decided to just let yourself have this time with him. He was everything you wanted, and at this moment you were going to let yourself have him.

Bringing yourself back to the present, you gazed into his irises. But before you could lose yourself further, he shook his head, looking down between the two of you. 

Your brow furrowed in response, and you reached the hand that was still holding his back, up to cup his cheek, lifting his head in the process. When he looked at you again, his eyes were shining. 

Dammit, Jake, you thought, wistful. 

You felt tears prick your own ducts. Your thumb swept across the soft skin and the faint beauty mark that adorned his cheek. Fuck, he was beautiful. You bit your lip, then hushed your next words, repeating your earlier statement. “I know.”

He went to look down again, but your hold was firm on his face. “Look at me, Jake,” you begged. “Watch me.”

He pressed his face into your hand, his eyes shutting for a moment. A singular tear made its way to your chest. He cleared his throat, opening his eyes. He kept them on you, never wavering and following your instructions. His hips continued with their languid movements, his cock never exiting you. But, suddenly, as you felt your walls constrict him again, his slow movements became quicker, desperate. You wanted to throw your head back, completely overtaken with lust. But you kept your eyes trained on his. 

You had to see him finish. . . see his face. You’d never let yourself watch him, subconsciously fearing the intimacy of witnessing it. But you had to see it now. . .just once.

“Stay with me, Jake,” you pleaded, your voice hitching with each hard pump of his dick. He briefly closed his eyes again, and fearful of missing him, you coached him back to you. “Look into my eyes.”

You gasped the last part, the sensation of him throbbing and twitching inside of you, the fullness of his dick filling you completely. 

More.

He whimpered, his Amber-brown eyes, heart wrenching and warm as they stayed locked with yours. “I can’t– I’m gonna– I’m–,” he choked out. His movements slowed, and he went to pull out. But you stopped him, your hand holding tight to his soft, round ass. He looked back at you, quirking an inquisitive, urgent brow. You felt your legs quiver, your heat clenched around him as your clit twitched with need. 

So close. Fuck. 

His eyes rolled, his lids shutting with the feeling. He bit his pink lip. His lips, still swollen from your kisses and shiny from your release. The butterflies in your stomach started fluttering ferociously, the familiar feeling overtaking you as your body trembled– your nerves humming. 

You were about to finish. And you had to do it with him. 

Completely. 

“Y/n,” he gasped, warning you. “I’m going to fucking cum.”

You felt his cock pulse inside of you, confirming his words. 

“I know,” you said, for the third time. “But I need to feel you. I want you to finish inside of me.”

His eyes bugged. “Y/n– fuck. No. No. You are under the influence. You don’t want–.”

You felt your chest flare with irritation at his words. “Jake, I swear to fuck,” you whined, your eyes shutting as one particular nudge of his cock against your folds pushed you nearly over the edge. “Please, Jake. Please, baby. I promise you won’t be taking advantage or some shit. I need it. Please. Let me have it. Just this one time.”

Let our last time be special, you thought. You tried to let your eyes echo your thoughts, willing him to understand. 

He seemed to, because his next words were less apprehensive– an air of eagerness and an air of excitement painting his tone with his next words. “Are you sure?”

“More than sure,” you reassured, smoothing your thumb across his sharp cheekbone. 

And with one last buck from his hips, your clit twitched and your legs turned to Jell-o. All composure was lost–shuddering and heart chanting his name. Then, with a final groaned growl, his eyelids drooped, and his irises hazily watched you. His mouth relaxed to an ‘o’ shape, just the same as it did when he played his beloved instrument. You felt the glorious feeling of his release, as he spilled warm and plentiful inside of you. 

“Jaaaake,” you moved your hips up against him, wanting to feel and catch every last bit of him. “Yes, baby– yes.”

Dammit– until this moment, you hadn’t realized just how badly you needed this. 

You could punch yourself with the anger you felt at ending things with him. But it was for this exact reason. The emotions you were feeling (that you knew he was also feeling), as he slumped against you, thick shaft slowly softening inside of you. . .his head balanced on your shoulder as your fingers lazily played with his gorgeous, growing locks. . . 

It wasn’t uncomplicated. It was more than it was ever meant to become. It wasn’t what you had agreed to in the slightest. This was turning into a relationship. And you were not about to squander his career with any sort of distraction. You refused to get in the way of his career. 

So, when he finally pulled out of you –and you felt the remnants of his seed slipping from between the folds of your fulfilled cunt– you reminded yourself.

Plan B. 

And as you dozed off, after he’d cleaned you so delicately, with him spooning you from behind, his firm chest meeting your relaxed back. . . you swore you wouldn’t forget. 

Plan B in the morning.

-🌼🌼🌼-

a/n: hope to see you back for part 2 TOMORROW!! 🖤

ty for being the best readers in the world and pleaseee never hesitate to send in your wonderful thoughts!

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

Taglist: @joshym, @gretavanfleetposts, @alyson814, @fretaganvleet, @lallisonl, @writingcold, @gvfpal, @twinszka, @jessicafg03, @reesetrippingthelight, @sacredjake, @laurenlovesgretavanfleet, @gretavangroove, @222headedcalf, @dreamssingold, @carbondancingthroughtime, @raviolilegs, @way-to-go-lad, @jakekiszkasmommy, @katgvf, @objectsinspvce, @jaketlover, @vanfleeter, @thetroublegetssloud71, @seditabets, @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface, @jaketlove, @ohgodthefeeling-gvf, @starcatcher-jake, @anythingforjtk, @lucimoo, @indigostreakmorgan, @gretavanbear, @katelynn-gvf, @alwaysonthemend, @aintthatapity, @bowievanfleet, @fwzco, @takenbythemadness, @cherry-icecreamsmile, @laneygvf, @hi-hi-hello11, @sinarainbows, @jakesbarbarian, @mybussyinchrist, @becinabubblegvf, @heckingfrick, @danigvf, @pinkandsleepy1934, @derrangeddumpsterfire, @klarxtr, @josh-iamyour-mama, @abby-gvf, @cassyface, @gretavansabotage, @torniturntomyarrow, @joshsbonnet, @llrosee, @starshine-gvf, @itsafullmoon, @gvfmarge, @creadliz98, @mackalah, @lek-gvf

[mostlymarvelsstuff]

Speak To Me

Summary: Friends with benefits gets a little more complicated than either of you expected when feelings get involved and ignored. 

Warnings: angst(with happy ending), hurt/comfort, jealousy, sexual content(fingering, strap on sex)

Word count: 5130    Nat Masterlist   Marvel Masterlist

   You look down at the redhead below you, admiring her expression of pure bliss as she looks back at you with a dopey smile. You can feel butterflies erupt in your stomach at the sight of it. God what you wouldn't do to see that smile, or any of her other smiles. The one she reserves for just the two of you in tender moments, the ones she gives you during training when she has the upper hand, the ones she gives you when you make her laugh by doing or saying something stupid. You loved them all.

   You look into her emerald eyes and you know you’d do anything for her. You’d move mountains, burn bridges, hell you’d kill someone if it came down to that. And that's when the realization hits you. You love her. You love your best friend, Natasha Romanoff and that definitely was against the whole ‘friends with benefits’ agreement you’d made with her. It was just a way to relieve stress after missions or rough days, nothing more. That's what she had proposed, no feelings or strings attached. But you fell, and fell hard for the amazing Russian. And that was a problem.

   “I- I uh, I gotta go” you mumble out quickly pushing yourself off of and away from the other woman tossing the strap on that had previously been attached to your hips to the side as you began to get dressed

   Her brows furrow, “What?” At first she thought in her state she had misheard you, but before she could think anymore about it her bedroom door was closing and you had left without an explanation or a goodbye. 

   This was extremely unusual for you. The two of you had been doing this for some time now and you had a routine. After sex you’d lay there with her for a bit, your body weight on her to soothe her and then you’d help her clean up and give her cuddles before eventually saying your goodnights and leaving. Never had you left so abruptly, or without caring for her. The change is enough to upset her, she finds herself feeling like something is missing without you by her side still.

   She sniffles as a few tears make their way down her face, and reasonably she knows she shouldn’t be upset by this. This is what she had agreed to with you, casual meaningless sex. Only it wasn’t meaningless to her, not anymore. Somewhere along the way Natasha had found herself falling for you, and though everything screamed at her to stop falling or at least stop hooking up with you, she found she couldn’t do either of those things.

   You treated her like no one else ever had, both in bed and out of it so of course she fell for you. And once she knew how she felt she couldn’t end things with you, even though she knew it would hurt to stay, she was selfish. She wanted to pretend a little longer because she didn’t think she would be capable of going back to being just friends. Not now after she knew what your touch was like or what her name sounded like falling from your lips. Not after she knew what it was like to love you.

   When she wakes the next morning she can’t help but still feel uneasy about how you had left last night. She knew something was wrong, you wouldn't have acted that way otherwise right? She had to make sure you were ok. 

   Her confusion and worry only grows when you don’t meet her at her room to go on your morning run together. And when you don’t meet her in the kitchen for breakfast afterwards she can feel her heart drop. By the time afternoon training came she was beginning to think you were sent on some last minute mission and that's why you rushed away, but those thoughts disappear when she bumps into Yelena.

   “Hey sestra(sister). Y/n get tired of sparring with you finally?” she teases

    A look of confusion washes over her face, “What do you mean?”

    “Didn’t you know, she was in here with Bucky almost all morning” 

   “Oh” You are here then. You must have just forgotten to tell her of your sudden plans with Bucky.

   She continues through the rest of her day much like she normally would, only with the distinct lack of you by her side to share in the activities and give commentary. By the time dinner comes around she can feel the way her skin practically buzzes with excitement to see you. But when the team sits down for dinner, you are not among them. Anxiety then replaces her previous excitement.

   Wandas head is filled by the Russians' thoughts, which isn’t something new. Normally though they were about her strong feelings for you and how she felt conflicted on what to do, now they were focused on wondering where you were and if you were ok. Besides you the Sokovian was her next closest friend, other than Clint of course, and she hated seeing her upset. She gives her a sympathetic look and a small smile and Natasha gives her a smile in return, but it doesn't reach her eyes.

   Once nighttime falls, she still hasn’t seen you or received an answer to any of her texts or calls so she knows it's time to seek you out. She's hopeful when she sees the light coming from under your door, telling her that you are indeed there. Hesitantly she knocks and the seconds pass by without an answer. She tries again louder this time.

  “Y/n? It’s me.” she announces but still gets nothing, “Look, I just wanted to make sure you’re ok. You…you left in a hurry last night”

   When she hears some shuffling a smile spreads on her face but it quickly dies when instead of the door opening, the light shining out from under the door goes out. Presumably that meant you were going to bed, so she decides to give you your space even if it hurts her to do so. 

    You wake up feeling like absolute shit. You knew Natasha knew you were in here last night. You knew she was probably looking for you all day and was worried about you. And yet that didn't stop you from blatantly ignoring her last night. But you just couldn’t face her, not after realizing how much she meant to you. How were you supposed to look at her and not fall further? How were you supposed to tell her your feelings and expect not to lose her? You couldn’t. So you start the day off just as you had yesterday. Avoidance.

    You go to the kitchen for breakfast when you know she's off on her run. You spar with Bucky while she showers and eats breakfast. You hide out in the lab with Tony while she goes to training. You go on a run with Sam during her downtime and split lunch with him. You sneak back into the compound and shower while she's in the firing range with Yelena. You relax in your room with a book while the team eats dinner. You have Peter swing by with takeout for you before he heads home while the others watch a movie. You pretend to not be there at nighttime, sitting in the dark until sleep takes you. You never return a missed call and leave her messages on read. To your shame you continue like that for the rest of the week. And by then Natasha is well past her breaking point. 

   “Y/n please” the sadness is clear in her tone as she knocks and though it hurts, you ignore it, “I know you’re in there. If you won’t open the door at least….at least answer the phone. Please just- just talk to me”

   You rest your forehead on the thick piece of oak that stands between you both, not knowing she was doing the same on the other side as she desperately waited for a reply that you don’t give.

   “I’m really worried about you” she adds, still hearing nothing from you. “I..I miss you”

   Eventually she leaves, but you know this will continue. You need to find a reason to leave the compound from now on. You can’t be here during these hours, you can’t blatantly ignore her any longer. 

Thankfully the next day Sam gives you a reason. “You seem more stressed than usual, not burning enough steam on these runs?”

   You shake your head, “Guess not”

   “Well, I was planning on taking Bucky to the club tonight. He's been wanting to go for a while now to see what it's like, why don’t you join us.” he invites

   You contemplate it for a moment. Drinking and dancing was sure to help you relax but it also came with the chance of you hooking up with someone. But would that really be so bad when you desperately wanted your mind off a certain redhead?

   “Yeah I’ll come with. As long as Bucky doesn't mind me joining”

   Sams smiles and slaps your shoulder, “You kidding, he's the one that told me to invite you. Besides, the more the merrier, right?”

   “Yeah” you chuckle, “Right”

    Natasha hears about Sam and Buckys plans at the dinner table that evening when Tony teases them about not spending all the money on his black card. She hadn’t realized you'd be going with them though. She only figures that out when she hears the three of you return, obviously drunk and boisterously talking about the night's activities.

   “The two of you are so drunk” Bucky laughs as he watches you both stumble through the hall

  “Yep” you slur out and the Russian can’t help but frown. You hadn’t been quite this drunk in a while and normally when you would drink heavily you’d go out with her because you knew she wouldn’t let you over do it. Or she would at least take care of you the next day.

   Sam chuckles, “I think Y/ns more drunk on that blonde than anything. You see the way that girl was grinding up on her. Shiiit, that girl couldn't keep her hands off you”

   “I’m surprised you even came home with us” Bucky adds as he tries to keep you both upright

   “Shut up” you laugh, elbowing him and nearly falling

   The laughter dies as the three of you continue down the hall and Natasha hates how easily those words upset her. She hates how her chest tightens and tears run down her face at the thought of you even entertaining the idea of sleeping with another woman. The fact that someone else's hands might soon be touching you, caressing your body and discovering every scar and freckle just as she had, made her stomach twist.

   And she knows she has no right to feel this way, she wasn’t dating you and the two of you had never said anything about exclusively sleeping with the other but as far as she was aware you were only sleeping with her. So why might that have changed?

   If she had said or done something to upset you that night why couldn’t you just tell her so she could apologize and fix things with you. And if you had decided you didn't want to sleep with her anymore, god why couldn’t you just say that. She could handle it. She could settle back into just being friends, because having you in her life in some way was far better than this. Did you not feel the same, did you not want her at all anymore? Had sex been all she had been good for?

   For the first time in a very long time she doesn't hide away her emotions, she lets herself feel everything. A tidal wave of sadness and anger overcome her and she finds herself clutching at her bedsheets as sobs shake her. The faint smell of you still lingers on her pillow and she buries her face into it. She cries until exhaustion forces her into sleep, and it's a restless one. Because all she dreams about is you.

   The next evening when Wanda had heard the hesitant knock at her door she had expected to find Natasha, but she didn’t expect her to look so lost and heartbroken. Her eyes are red and puffy from crying and it looks like she hasn’t had a good night's rest in at least two days if not longer. She's wearing a baggy pair of sweatpants and her shirt is one of yours that she had stolen from you, she cherishes it now more than she ever did.

   Wanda opens the door fully to allow her friend to come inside and she's barely able to close the door before the Russians' smaller frame is hugging her, clutching onto her like she'd fall apart without her support. Wanda thinks she just might.

   She soothingly rubs the older woman's back and allows her to get some crying out of her system before she asks anything. But she knows Nat needs to talk, she probably wouldn’t have come here otherwise.

   “What happened Nat?”

   “I- I don’t even know!” she sobs out

   Wanda's hold on her tightens slightly, “Shh, it's ok. Just take a few deep breaths and start at the beginning”

   Natasha hesitantly explains everything to her. Her suggesting the friends with benefits idea, her falling in love with you, the last time she had seen you and all your behaviors since then. Wanda had listened to everything as they sat on her bed and she couldn't believe you would treat Nat so rudely and act so careless with her emotions. 

   “I…I love her Wans. I love her so much and for her to just toss me aside like this, it kills me.” she admits, “Even if she doesn't love me I thought we were friends, best friends. But she left me like I was nothing. I just want to know what I did wrong”

   Wanda's heart drops when she hears that and her anger with you only grows, “Oh honey, you haven’t done anything wrong. Nothing at all. Y/n is the one at fault here. She's the one that left, she's the one that is avoiding you, she's the one that won’t tell you what's wrong.”

   “What if I’m what's wrong?” she asks in a whisper

   Wanda shakes her head, “You aren't”

   “But I’m the one that broke the agreement, I’m the one that involved my feelings” she argues

   “But Y/n doesn't know that, and even if she did it does not justify her lack of communication and avoidance with you.” She reasons. Natashas heartbroken expression remains and Wanda holds her close as she continues to cry

   Wandas mind is then overrun with another's thoughts, and her jaw clenches as she realizes it's you. As if you had any right to be in such a conflicted state after you've been ignoring Nat. However, the more she listens, the more she sees you are just scared, and so she escorts the Russian to the elevator, “Go talk to her Nat, don’t give her a chance to ignore you or say no. Pick the damn lock if you have to.”

   Nat solemnly nods and hits the button to take her to your floor. She wants to get straight to the point with you, so she uses what little time this short ride has to offer in order to sort out her thoughts and emotions. As the doors open she takes a deep breath before stepping out and heading off to your room. 

   She turns down your hall in time to nearly bump into a blonde woman, who obviously came from your room if your closing door was any indication, and a wave of various emotions overcome her. Was this the woman from the club? Were you fucking this woman? Was this the reason why you had disappeared from her life? 

   Tears cloud her vision as she storms her way to your door, she's not sure if they're from sadness or anger and right now she doesn’t really even care. All she cares about now is confronting you about this, and that shows in the strength she uses to pound on your door. To her surprise your door opens almost immediately, and she's met with your surprised expression on the other side. You’d likely thought it was your ‘friend’ that you'd just parted with, not a very pissed off Russian.

   You hadn’t expected Natasha to be there, though considering the circumstances of late, you should have. You weren’t prepared to see such anger on her face, nor did you expect to see tears slipping down her cheeks. Guilt slams into you like a semi and your heart twists knowing you were the cause of it. Seeing her in pain, the pain you've caused, is your wake up call. You really fucked up, and its way past time to apologize and explain yourself. 

   “Nat- ”

   “Shut up” she says with a shove to your shoulders, causing you to stumble backwards a few steps as she brushes past you into your room.

   “Natasha, please” you try again as you move to shut your door

   “I said, shut up!” she replies, shoving you again and effectively trapping you between the wall and her. She stares you down, her chest heaving as she tries in vain to hold in a few tears. Finally she breaks the silence, “What's her damn name, Y/n?”

   “What the hell are you talking about?”

   “The bitch you've been fucking while you've been ignoring me!” she shouts, clenching her fists, “Tell me Y/n, did she take your strap as well as I can? I bet she didn’t. Bet she didn’t fuck you like I can either.”

   Your face falls into one of sadness and offense, “Not that I owe you my abstinence Natasha, but you’ll be glad to know that I couldn’t even imagine talking to someone else, let alone fucking them!”

   She scoffs “Oh, really? So me running into the very blonde bimbo Bucky and Sam were talking about being all over you last night as she left your room, was just a coincidence then??”

   “Yes!”

   “Bullshit! You can’t just pretend nothing happened Y/n!”

   “Nothing did happen Natasha!” You let out a strained breath, “She came here to return my wallet that I left behind in my drunken stupor. Did she come onto me while here, yes she did, but I couldn’t have cared less!”

   Her jaw clenches and she looks away from you, “You're lying. You liked her attention.”

  “No, Nat…I- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.” you stress, “Sure, Sarah was attractive, but the point is that she wasn’t you Nat…I-I broke our deal, I- ”

   Your sentence dies in your throat, effectively cut off by her sharp glare. Something which you've never been on the receiving end of before and it honestly sent a shiver through you.

   “Oh, so you know the fucking whores name then?!” she spits, grabbing you by the shirt collar and yanking you over to the bed

   You land with enough force to bounce slightly and look at her with a puzzled expression, “Wait, earlier you ask- ”

   Her lips suddenly smash against yours, and all thoughts of anything other than Natasha fade from your mind

   “Just shut up Y/n” she mumbles against your lips as her hands push you further into the mattress and you relax beneath her, letting her know she's in control.

   Her hands roughly pull at the bottom of your shirt and she only breaks the kiss long enough to remove it from you. Your bra follows right after it and she quickly grabs your breasts, squeezing them in such a manner that has you moaning into her mouth. Her hands swiftly make their way down your torso to your waistband and she practically rips your pants and underwear from your body with her harsher than normal movements. 

   Her hand makes its way between your thighs, causing you to instinctively open your legs wider for her. Sensing your eagerness she waits, opting to merely cup your cunt as her lips move away from yours. Instead she focuses their assault on your neck, somewhere normally forbidden to her. 

   She bites and sucks from your ear to your collarbone, ensuring bruises are left behind on your skin for all to see. Finally she slips two fingers inside you, letting out a moan as your warm wet walls envelope her, but her face quickly hardens again as she looks at you.

   “You're dripping…question is, is it for me or that whore?” she growls out, plunging her fingers deep inside you

   “Y- you Tasha!” you stutter out, “Only you have that effect on me”

   Satisfied with your answer her fingers start up thrusting inside of you, pulling sounds of pleasure from you as you squirm beneath her. It’s truly a sight to behold, something she doesn’t get to see often as you normally took the reins, but it's not enough to make her forget what the two of you were even in this situation.

   “God, you're just a scared little whore huh?” she asks as her fingers thrust inside you, “Could never commit to much of anything, could you?”

   Her statement on your insecurities catches you entirely off guard, and with her fingers buried in you the way they are, you can’t find it in yourself to answer her in any proper way. Instead only whimpers and moans cascade past your lips as she works to bring you over the edge.

   “You selfish, stupid, asshole” she chastises, weakly hitting your chest between each word, “Why couldn’t you just talk to me?”

   “ ‘m sorry!” you mumble, too caught up in pleasure for your brain to form a proper and heartfelt apology

   “All you ever do is run!” she shouts, voice cracking with raw emotion as her lip trembles. Not trusting that she’d be able to reprimand you further she remains quiet, putting her sole focus into speeding up her fingers movements. 

   “Gonna cum” you mumble as your walls flutter around her and with one final thrust, you release onto her hand with a shout, “Natasha!”

   Natasha practically collapses on top of you and buries her face in your still heaving chest in an effort to muffle her sobs. And it works at first, because the only thing you can hear is your heart pounding in your ears. But once your body begins to calm itself you become more aware. You can hear her sniffling now and can feel her warm tears against your skin. You wrap your arms around her tightly, causing her to only cry harder against you and you mentally curse yourself for causing her this much pain.

   "I know baby, I know. I did a horrible thing, I hurt you, and I'm so sorry Tasha. I'm so very sorry" you tell her while gently rubbing her back "I was scared but I shouldn't have ran. You deserved better from me. I'm so sorry"

   You kiss the top of her head a few times and begin humming the Russian lullaby she normally hums for you when you're upset. This seems to do the trick as her crying slows down and her muscles begin to relax, though her hold on you never falters.

   "I'm sorry Tasha. I really truly am. And you don't have to forgive me, but please let me take care of you right now. Let me treat you how I should have that night. Please"

  She remains silent, and at first you think she's going to reject your idea. Tell you no and to fuck off, and honestly you wouldn't blame her if she did, but then she shifts to look you in the eyes.

  Hers are swollen and rimmed red from her tears, but they're also full of the pliancy she reserved solely for you, "Yes please"

   You quickly oblige, removing her shirt and bra before capturing her lips in a heated kiss. While your lips are occupied your hands manage to help rid her of her pants and underwear. Effortlessly you flip your positions, pinning her underneath you with a grunt. Your tongue makes its way into her mouth and she lets out a moan when one of your hands makes its way underneath her shirt.

   “Y/n” she whimpers, her hips jerking up into yours, “Please baby, I need you”

   “I’ve got you Tasha” you reassure her, softly trailing your hand across her toned stomach, “Tell me what you want, my fingers or my strap?”

   She squirms slightly, “Need your cock, please”

   You separate yourself from her long enough to attach it to your hips before rejoining her in bed, slotting yourself between her legs. You glance at her to find her eyes darkened and her lower lip trapped between her teeth as she looks at you, it drives you wild. 

   “You're beautiful” you admit, letting your hands caress her sides as the tip of the faux cock prods at her entrance. Slowly you slide inside her and she moans at the pleasurable stretch, “And you're taking me so well”

   She whimpers and hastily grabs your hands, pulling them from her hips to her breasts. You get the idea and squeeze them as you begin thrusting your hips,  “Ooh fuck!”

   Her hands find purchase on your shoulders as you pick up the pace of your thrusts and you begin to pepper soft kisses against her chest, “I’m so sorry I hurt you Tasha. Gonna take care of you from now on, I promise. Even if you don’t want me like this anymore, I’ll still take care of you”

  A few tears escape her eyes as your lips attach themselves to her neck, sucking a mark into her ivory skin, “I want you. Please don’t leave me”

   “I’m not going anywhere baby” you assure her, “I’m all yours”

   She cups your face and pulls you up into a kiss, it's messy but full of passion and quite literally leaves the Russian breathless. But she wants more.

   “Fuck me harder detka(baby), please” She whimpers as her hold on you tightens. You comply with a growl, letting your hips slam into hers as her nails dig into your skin, “Blyad'(Fuck)! Prosto tak! Ne ostanavlivaysya! (Just like that! Don’t stop!)

   The fact that she's slipped into Russian tells you she's close so your hips move with even more vigor and your hand moves to her clit. You can feel the way her pussy tightens around the toy so you do the one thing guaranteed to send her over the edge.

   “Cum for me krasivaya(beautiful)”

   “Y/n!” she shouts, her body shaking as you continue to slowly fuck her through her orgasm. Her hands clutch at you, desperate to keep you close

   “I got you baby, I’m right here.” you soothe, letting your forehead rest against hers as you pull out of her. 

   You do your best to remove the toy from your hips without leaving her, tossing it aside once it's off. You then settle yourself above her and rest your weight on her, just the comfort you know she needs. She wraps her arms around you, nuzzling into your embrace as she allows her body some time to calm down.

   After a few minutes her breathing is once again normal and she decides it's time to talk a little more rationally, “Y/n?”

   “Yeah Tasha?” you reply, sitting up slightly to look her in the eye

   Her hands run along your back to help keep you calm, “Earlier you said you were scared and that's what caused this. What are you scared of?”

  “I uh, I- ” You swallow hard, still nervous despite knowing it was likely she felt similarly based on her earlier reactions, “I love you”

  She swears her heart skips a beat, “Say it again”

  “I love you”

  Her lips slam against yours so fast that you nearly get whiplash, but it's worth it to hear her reply, “I love you too. So next time, for the love of god just talk to me. Please”

   You nod, “I will, I promise you.”

   “Good. Otherwise I’ll tell Wanda kick your ass” she half jokes, poking your nose

   “If I ever hurt you like this again, I’ll tell her that myself”

   Nat smiles at you before getting comfortable once more, but your abrupt movements interrupt her peace and she glares at you. You can’t help but laugh at the grumpy glare and accompanying pout.

   “Hang on baby, we can sleep in a minute i promise,  just let me get something first” you tell her before haphazardly throwing your clothes on and practically sprinting out of the room 

   You arrive in the kitchen to find it empty, which is probably a good thing considering the state of your neck, and the fact that you had Nats pants on, not yours. So you quickly grab the caviar you’d gotten for her as an apology gift, two bottles of water and a bag of chips for yourself.

   The redhead smiles happily when you return, her smile widening as she notices the snack you're handing her, “You got me caviar?”

   “I did. It’s your favorite and I owed you an apology, so…”

   She reaches out for you but you giggle, “Hang on, I’ve got one more thing”

   She huffs, faking annoyance as you shuffle things around in your closet. By the time you find the item she's halfway through with her caviar, and very curious. That curiosity only grows when you hide it behind your back as you approach her. You sit back down on the bed and plop it into her lap. She admires the plush cat with a smile

   “I know how badly you want a cat, but this’ll have to work for us for now while we live in the compound”

   She sets the caviar tin down to pick up the plush, and she gives you a tearful smile, “Us?”

   “Yeah. Us.” you reply, “I told you, I’m here now and I’m not going anywhere.”

   She cuddles the plush against her as she nearly throws herself at you. You catch her in your arms and she wraps hers around your waist, leaning her head against your chest. You know she's not moving anytime soon so you settle yourself down into the mattress and pull the blanket up over you both. A few minutes pass and you're certain Nat is asleep so you let yourself get closer to sleep yourself, but she wasn't asleep.

  “Mine” Natasha mumbles against you, causing you to smile

   “All yours Tasha”

Taglist: @wandaromamoff69 @mmmmokdok @nataliasknife @natashasilverfox @when-wolves-howl @danveration @naomi-m3ndez @sheneonromanoff @sayah13 @likefirenrain @nighttime-dreaming ​ @readings-stuff @chaoticevilbakugo @crystalstark02 @wackymcstupid @xchaiix @iaminluvwithnat @lovelyy-moonlight @blackwidow-3 @mistressofinsomnia @that-one-gay-mosquito @yomamagf @yourfavdummy @justarandomreaderxoxo @scoutlp23-blog @whoischanelle15 @lissaaaa145 @eline03 @wizardofstories @imthenatynat @marvelonmymind @fluffyblanketgecko @bitch-616 @dakotastormm  @zoomdeathknight @rayeofmoonlight

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

Hello! Sorry I never did any requests before and not sure how to do it… If it's ok, can I request Smut #4 and Angst #2 together for Graves, please? I think it could be fun 😅 thank you🙏💖

When Things Go Wrong

Masterlist

Contains: Smut, Dom Phillip Graves, spanking, fingering, subdrop angst, fluff, aftercare.

971 words

Comment if you want to be tagged or follow #sp's 150 fanfic celebration for more fics.

Phillip has to leave for work at the worst time.

Phillip knew he shouldn't laugh, that would only encourage you but as you geared up to run away from him after flicking powdered sugar at the face, he couldn't help himself. You took off, and he followed hot on your heels, reaching his long arms out as you dodged away from him. "Come here now, you little brat."

You looked behind you and stuck out your tongue. "Nope."

You took off up the stairs, doing your best to evade him as he grew closer. He finally grabbed you just as you tried to enter the bedroom. He grinned and pressed his lips to your ear. "Be good for me and I won't spank you too hard, unless you want me to." You struggled, knowing you wouldn't be able to break free, and he walked you to the bed. "That is what you want, isn't it?"

You nipped his hand, not hard enough to hurt but hard enough to let him know the game was still on, and he chuckled as he threw you over his knee. "Alright then, you're asking for it."

The pause before he ripped your pants down let you know he was waiting for you to consent. "Yes, I am."

Your skin erupted in goosebumps as the cool air hit it, and his hand came down in a solid smack. "Like that, or softer or harder?"

He gave you another one at the same force, and you felt heat spread through your core. "Like that."

His hand came down twice again, once on each cheek, before his hand rubbed your skin soothingly. "Ok, Darlin', I hear you loud and clear.

The hits kept coming until you were limp and panting on his lap and his hand slid slowly from where it was calming the skin on your ass to your core. "Fucking shit you're wet." His fingers moved through the mess between your legs before his thumb found your clit as he pushed two of his thick fingers inside you.

Your brain was so fuzzy you could barely moan, and not even the sound of his phone ringing broke you from the haze as you started to climb the peak. The hand on your back left you while his fingers stayed between your legs. "What the fuck do you want? I'm very busy right now with something important."

The authority in his tone only served to make things worse, and he felt a huff when he felt you clench around his fingers. He wasn't giving the voice on the other end time to reply, and he was getting more and more angry as they spoke. "For fucks sake, I'll be there but whoever let this happen is in so much shit they're going to wish I shot them."

He hung up the phone, and his fingers slowed before he finally pulled his hand away and helped you sit up. His hand was on your cheek, stroking softly as he brought you back to earth, but you were already halfway there with the sudden change. You blinked and took in a shuddering breath. "Is everything alright?"

He ground his jaw and pressed his lips together to stop himself from swearing. "Shit's gone sideways at work and they need me there." He pressed his forehead to yours as you leaned your weight onto him. "I hate leaving you like this y/n but I gotta go. I'll be home as soon as I can."

You nodded. "It's ok, I understand. I'll be fine."

He smiled softly and gave you a gentle kiss. "Ok, I text you as much as I can."

You kissed him back and did your best to collect yourself. "Alrighty then. I'll be fine, don't worry. I love you."

He pecked you quickly as he moved away from you. "Love you too."

His hand lingered on your cheek as he got up and left, and with another breath, you went downstairs to clean the mess you had left in the kitchen.

As the afternoon went on, you only felt worse, a bone deep tiredness settling into your bones as your emotions grew more and more unpleasant. You did your best to fix it. You had something to eat and drink, went on a walk and took a nap, but nothing helped, and by the time Phillip had returned, you could feel a shake starting in your hands.

The dam finally broke when you laid eyes on him, and panic stole the breath from your chest as he rushed over. "Hey, hey, what's going on."

You tried to take a deep breath and gestured to your throat, and he placed both hands on your face as he looked into your eyes. "You're having a panic attack." His jaw clenched he took a deep breath to stop himself from losing his temper. "I'm not surprised with how I left you."

He took your hand and placed it on his chest, taking a deep breath before speaking. "Breathe with me Darlin, just try and match me." Your chest heaved, and he smiled softly. "Just like that, good girl."

It didn't take long for you to calm down and he took you into his arms as you started to cry. "I'm sorry, I'm being silly."

He stiffened, and his voice turned stern. "Hey, I never want to hear that again. This was my fault, and the last thing you're being is silly." You buried your head in his chest as he rubbed his hand up and down your back.

"Thank you." Aside from feeling like you could sleep for a year, you were starting to feel like yourself again.

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head and helped you stand up. "How about a nice hot bath?"

You nodded. "I'd like that."

He smiled and took your hand. "Great."

Fin

[sharksupermacy]

k. (pt.3)

k. (pt3.) - jihyo x idol! reader

synposis: pt 3. of k (finale)

genre: angst, fluff, reader being dumb but to be fair jihyo was too, awards show lowkey kinda awkward..., jyp lowkey sucks, pretend that twice attended mama in korea, swearing 1.2k words pt1. pt2.

longing.

a yearning desire. that is what you had felt when you saw that text popped up on your screen. but you never knew what you were longing for in mina text, maybe it was the desire to meet up with your former friends, maybe it was the desire of wanting to introduce miyeon to twice, or maybe just maybe it was her.

"hey!" you were hit to the floor by shuhua, "whatcha thinkin' so hard about?" the maknae questioned.

"I was just wondering if the group wanted to meet a part of twice since i'm already meeting up with some of them," you looked at the maknae on top of you as her eyes lit up.

"DIBS ON TELLING!" she yelled out as she ran back to the other side of the practice room practically shaking soyeon the group the news. you smiled over at the group, before returning your gaze back to your phone back to mina.

triangle goof: yea, sure that would be great. meet you at the vending machines like old times?

you turned your phone off, as you heard the choreographer open the door and yell, " LET'S GET READY FOR MAMA'S GIRLS!"

you got up with a thought that you hadn't rung in your mind in years 'god would this be the first time you've seen jihyo since all of that-'

A shout from across the room, "HEY, Y/N YOU COMING??" from a low-toned voice grounded back in reality.

"YEA, JUST GIVE ME A SEC-" you yelled back to the younger. you sighed as you grabbed your water bottle and made your way over towards the group.

(bit of a time skip here)

if you had to describe MAMA in one word it would be crazy. The amount of fellow k-pop stars you saw astounded you, you even got to reconnect with some former JYP trainees like chan(skz), changbin(skz), and chaeyoung (fromis_9). all of you having a mini-reunion backstage. but was interrupted as you turned around and felt someone burning holes in the back of your head. chan being the curious person decided to peek over your shoulder only to find jihyo stopping in the middle of the hallway looking at your group.

him being the nice person that he is decided to wave his senior over not knowing of the history between the two of you. jihyo had looked around making sure that in the deserted hallway, chan had meant her. locking eyes with you as she walked over, your heart had stopped.

but luckily for you, a call was coming in on your phone from soyeon which led to the best excuse to get out of this situation. as you picked up the phone you were met with a slightly annoyed soyeon, "y/n come back, they want us to be on stage in 4 minutes. you also still need to put on your mic," the smaller member huffed out.

"sorry, i'll be back in a minute. just gotta say goodbye, is that ok?" you told the leader.

"fine, one minute Y/N L/N," she said as she hung up.

you turned toward the group as they all look with you with looks of disappointment that the time was cut short ."sorry guys, i have to go perform but i'll catch up with you later," you said as you bowed to the group and bowed to jihyo running back to your dressing room to put on your pack.

your heart beating hard now hands a little bit sweaty from the running, and finally being away from your ex. as you entered your room you saw all of the members all looking pretty as always but a bit nervous. before being swarmed by a crowd of people trying to get you ready in 3 minutes.

until a knock on a door was heard. "G)-IDLE is on in 2 minutes" a voice came from outside as the door was opened. the guide looked at the group gathering all of your group up before being rushed to the stage.

you shook each other to try to kill each other nervousness a bit and did all of your pre-stage rituals of chanting your group's name. then you were all on. you could hear fans chanting the group's name as soojin walked out on the stage. it was on your all of your first performance on the big MAMA stage. you looked up at the shining light on your face and performed as the start of your part of the modified intro to HANN- played.

after the performance, your group shuffled off the stage, as you passed by the familiar faces of twice getting ready. your group marveled at their seniors as you tried to look the opposite way in fear of making eye contact with their leader, while shuhua was hitting your shoulder in shock.

when all of you had gotten to your room, your group went into full-once mode gossiping, admiring, and just gushing over the group shaking you asking you when they would finally meet the group. only to disappoint them by telling them they had to wait until the award show was over.

but a couple hours later, the entire (G)-IDLE group was worn out from the award show but extremely happy that they had won an award. you were in a comfy hoodie when you looked at your phone with a text from mina.

peguin minguin: meet you by the vending machine in 2 minutes?

triangle goof: be there in a minute

you smiled at the text, but also were terrified by the thought of being confronted by your former friends and ex. nonetheless, you were ready to go. "hey guys, are you still up to meeting twice," you questioned, as you looked across the couch toward the group that seemed tired up until a second ago.

as all of them cheered, when heading to the vending machine not being able to contain their happiness. all of them had stopped when they saw the group bowing to their seniors and twice bowed to them.

the tension was awkward between you and twice. your members could feel it as they huddle up around you to make you feel safer. but you stepped out of their circle twice, as you can see jeongyeon, and nayeon trying to hold back tears.

you opened your arms as your old friends ran into your arms.

"you are a fucking idiot, you know," jeongyeon whispered in your ears while hugging you.

"i agree," you said to the older, smiling to try to prevent the tears which threatened to come down your eyes.

"you know all of us would've understood right?" nayeon said softly as she hugged both you and jeongyeon.

"yea, i know," you said gently.

they both backed away from you. as you faced the biggest boss of them all, jihyo.

"hey," was the single word she had said to break both of your four-year silence. you see a single tear as she smiled from a small distance away rolled down the face you had loved.

"hi," was the simple response you gave as you smiled back.

a/n: omg i'm finished- bro. i actually had to cut some of it lmao, anyways bro why is hive rhythm so addicting (also room??? miss jihyo... its too good- pls) (do you guys want an eplilogue??)

[word-wytch]

warm vanilla sugar.

Little Eddie and his mom, Elizabeth, bake Christmas cookies together.  [2k]

CW: tooth-rotting fluff, depictions of poverty, angst over paternal absence

December 24th 1971

Philadelphia Street was quiet on Christmas Eve. It was always pretty quiet in the dead of winter, especially once the sun went down. Nothing but the wind rustling through the glittering branches under the street lamps.  

But if you listened closely just outside the smallest house—the Munson’s house—there was music. There almost always was. Crackling and popping, the spinning record warmed the house with carols sung by Ella Fitzgerald this time. Tinsel glittered in the light of the colored bulbs on the little fake tree by the large front window. Behind the house there was a light as well, glowing warmly from the small kitchen window in front of the sink.

Perched on a chair at the counter with hands barely as big as the plastic cookie cutter, Eddie made his first big impression, stamping the dough in the shape of a snowman. He peeled it back with wondrous satisfaction, eagerly stamping another in the middle of the flour-dusted canvass, and another above it in frantic succession. 

“Easy there, big guy,” came a voice from beside him; warm and sweet like honey on toast. A pale hand blotched with green food coloring intercepted, lifting the plastic from the dough before Eddie could get his grips on it again. “Gotta keep ‘em close together, we’ll get more cookies that way,” Elizabeth said with a wink. “Like this.” Gingerly, she lined the snowman up beside one of its kin, upside down so that the large bottom tessellated snugly beside the top hat of the other. 

Sudden laughter erupted out of her son: bright, bubbling, and contagious. 

“What’re you gigglin’ about?” She punctuated the question with a teasing poke at his ribs.

Eddie pointed a trembling little finger at the scene, biting back his snicker enough for words to make it out. “His butt’s in his faaace!” He doubled over at his own joke, as if saying it out loud made it twice as funny. 

Elizabeth shook her head with a soft smirk at her son—the comedian—whose laughter was sweeter than any song she’d ever heard. His cheeks were pink from it, dimpled and squishy like the dough under her rolling pin. Tempting enough to take a bite. 

“What, like this?” She dove in, blowing raspberries against his chubby cheeks as he squirmed in her arms. His laughter erupted in squeals. “MmmooO—HAHA—mmmm!” Eddiesqueaked in a few gasps between laughs. It was a merciless onslaught; locked in a bear hug while fingers tickled his ribs. When Elizabeth was finally satisfied, she loosened her grip, pulling him into a hug with a soothing hand at his back to calm him down. 

Sucking in deep, ragged breaths, his chin nestled into her shoulder, into her long, strawberry blonde hair. She’d styled it extra today; half-up in a clip with those swooping curtain bangs framing her face. It was rare she had anywhere to be but at home, but that wouldn’t stop her from feeling like Bridgette Bardot on Christmas Eve. Hairspray was her secret weapon. It was cheap and always on hand. With it, she could transform into whoever she wanted. 

The scent of hairspray—of her—enveloped Eddie just like her arms. Warm like sheets freshly dried in the sun. More comforting than anything on Earth. Her hand rubbed loving circles into his green sweater while his own sticky fingers tangled into the oatmeal knit of hers. Finally Eddie let go, hands trailing the belt of her belled blue jeans as he steadied his stocking feet on the chair.

All calmed down, she nodded toward the cookie cutter. “Ok, go on and press it now.”

White plastic sunk into the dough, and Eddie beamed up at his mom with a smile that could outshine the moon, even with a few missing teeth.

“Good job! See it’s cold out there so they’ve gotta snuggle up real close to stay warm,” she said with a giggle, giving Eddie a side-squeeze. Before his hands could press another cookie, hers found the cuffs of his sleeves, rolling the flour and crumbs of dough caught in the knit up and away until they sat snugly below his elbows. “There you go, much better. Think you can handle it, big guy?” Elizabeth asked, turning back to her bowl of frosting on the counter. 

“Okay Mommy,” he said, gripping the back of the chair for balance before finding the cookie cutter again. With careful precision, he hovered the snowman over the dough close enough to touch mittens with the one beside it before pressing down. “Good job!” He heard her coo, and that was all he needed.

It was good to see him like this, so preoccupied with the project in front of him that he hadn’t even glanced at the front door. He’d been watching it a lot lately. Even more as the days grew closer to the big one. Green blotches of food coloring stretched into trails beneath Elizabeth’s spatula as she blended the dye into the crisco and margarine mixture, tucking the metal bowl against her chest for leverage. When blended to a smooth, pale green, she set it beside the red and white ones. Sighing sharply, she glanced over her shoulder at the porch light shining through the glass. Still no shadow, no sound of heavy boots. Only the crooning of Ella Fitzgerald, swinging along with her band to “Sleigh Ride” in the living room.

“I goooot it!” Eddie chirped proudly, holding up a snowman by the hat in his small fist as its doughy body drooped towards the floor. 

“Oh sweetie! Here, let’s get a pan.” Rushing to the oven, she snatched a well-loved baking sheet from atop the burners, pivoting to bring it under Eddie’s outstretched arm just in time. The dough hit the pan with a dull thud. The snowballs had stretched to droopy ovals, twice as long as all the others. Tiny grip marks dented the hat. Eddie—proud creator—beamed down upon its gooey form. 

“Oh wow, he’s—he’s a very tall snowman now!” Elizabeth exclaimed, sealing her snicker behind her twitching pink lips. She set the pan down in front of her mixing bowls. “Here, let me show you a trick, watch this.” Coming up behind him, she reached around his shoulder to pinch a corner of the dough. With a slow, upward pull, it became lace, leaving only the snowmen scattered on the large wooden cutting board. “See, like magic!”

And it was. Magic to see those umber saucers filled with wonder, to see her own eyes reflected back. But it wasn’t long before his tiny hands grew eager again, grabbing at a doughy body. “Woah—woah,” she clasped his wrist and his clutch slowly released. “We’re gonna use a spatula this time ok? It’ll be safer that way.” For the snowmen.

The oven was already warm. It had been for an hour now, just warming up the kitchen. Cookies were a great excuse for that. Sometimes in the dead of winter, when cold crept in through the single pane windows, Elizabeth would light up the old Magic Chef and leave the thick, enamel door hanging open. It would warm the whole kitchen, living room too. Sometimes she and Eddie would pull up chairs, wrap themselves in blankets, and pretend like they were roasting marshmallows. Cranking the thermostat was too expensive, but they could afford a fantasy.

Snowman cookies went in the oven this time, and by the time they came out, Eddie had a whole batch of Christmas trees ready to go. Steam rose from the snowmen as they cooled on the rack, and Elizabeth rolled out the dough for the Santa ones next. Even in the warmer-than-usual kitchen, it didn’t take long before the snowmen were cool enough to frost. 

Eddie was ready, holding the loaded butterknife tight in his grip. It descended with a plop on a snowman, and a haphazard jerking of the knife left it thick on the bottom and thin on the top. Eddie picked it up, poking out his tongue in concentration as he tried his best to spread it, but the pressure from the knife snapped the head clean off. It fell to the cutting board with a clatter of crumbs. “Noooo!” he wailed.

Elizabeth tossed her head back with a chuckle as sweet as molasses. “Some must be sacrificed,” she said with a wink, picking up the head. Gently, she took the butterknife out of his grip, grabbing a dollop of frosting from the bowl before giving it a generous smear. She handed it to Eddie. “Guess we’re gonna have to eat ‘im, huh?”

He didn’t waste a beat, stuffing it into his mouth in one eager bite. His crumb-dusted smile was enough to warm the whole house. Leaning against the counter with a soft chuckle, Elizabeth took a bite of the body. It was still a little warm, the dough flaking ever so slightly beneath the glob of sweet vanilla that her teeth left marks in. Grabbing her half-full coffee mug from beside a dirty mixing bowl, she chased it with a cold sip. “How ‘bout I frost and you decorate, big guy?”

Eddie was happy to do anything that involved sugar. Happy to lick it off his fingers, happy to bury his hands in the sprinkles—transferred to bowls for more accurate decorating after the plastic shakers left more on the tray than the cookies. Still, Eddie was more than generous, grabbing handfuls and releasing them in hills atop the frosting. 

“Mommy you think Santa’s gonna see my list?” Santa and list were challenging words without front teeth, but he managed. 

She paused as a sinking feeling crept into her stomach. Staring down at the long, half-frosted snowman in her hands—darker than the others and fragile due to its thinness—she took a deep breath before answering. “Yes baby, it’s right on the coffee table.”

Rainbow sprinkles clung to his fingers as he released another pile, leaving behind colored dots on his palms. “We’re gonna have to give him extra cookies so he brings everything.”

Twinging, she glanced at the door. “Baby, you know sometimes Santa and his elves get real busy and gotta make sure they have enough presents for everybody. Means he can only pick one or two things from each person’s list, you see.” Let alone a whole dang person. 

Eddie frowned, gnawing his lip as he stared down at all his hard work. “But he’s magic.”

Elizabeth set down the cookie, folding her arms across her well-worn floral apron with a heavy sigh. “I know, baby.” But he don’t work miracles. Staring into the bowl of frosting, her mind drifted back to the bedroom closet where two wrapped gifts lay tucked away. On the shelf above the coat rack was a dwindling bundle of cash in a brown paper bag. It was all Al had left behind three months ago when he said he’d be gone only one. She’d made it stretch, but barely. Elizabeth Munson wasn’t going to let that dampen the occasion though. Not today, not ever. Brightening her eyes, she turned to face her son. “But you know what? Christmas is really ‘bout appreciating what you got already.”

Eddie looked down at the snowmen, at their white bellies full of rainbow sprinkles. A few sprinkles dropped from his sticky palms as his shoulders began to slump, but suddenly a finger lifted his chin; soft as a peach and blotted with green food coloring. Suddenly he was staring into his favorite set of eyes, warmer than Tennessee whiskey. 

Elizabeth cupped his sweet face, rubbing her thumbs along the apples of his cheeks. “You know what I appreciate?” 

“Wha-?” was all he could mumble from between her palms.

“You.” She planted a big kiss on his forehead. 

Her smile was infectious, and before Eddie knew it, one was cracking across his face too—crooked and toothless. His sticky fingers found her wrists, lowering them softly to free his cheeks. He had something important to say. “I ‘preciate you too Mommy.”

Elizabeth Munson had a smile like the sun; radiant and warm even on the coldest days. Because when Elizabeth Munson was happy, the whole entire world was happy. 

And Eddie was no exception.

______

A/N: I might have gone through half a box of tissues to bring you this.

I might do more little vignettes like this. I just love Elizabeth Munson so much and it was really fun to develop her character more and give her a sweet moment with her boy.

✨ If you enjoyed this, please let me know! Your feedback keeps me writing and sharing helps others find it too! ✨

📖 MASTERLIST 🖋️AO3 ☕️ KO-FI

[missmarveledsblog]

You're not wrong don't mean it right ( Billy Butcher x reader ) part three

summary :they truly think frenchie has lost it but when he tells them he'll explain the rush against the clock as he pumps the antidote in hoping he got it in on time as revelations of how the two knew each other surface and butcher realises second chance don't come round often for him so if he get it, he not going to waste it.

warnings : mentions of death , childhood trauma , mentions of child abuse more angst but some fluff too .

Reblog to be added to taglist♥️

Pulling her bag and holding the box tightly to his body as they got  in the van , the rest feeling like it was some sort of snapping point for the man like he's finally lost the plot of all being. Even Butcher hesitated putting her down , laying her gently on the floor of the van as frenchie pulled at the little silver box like a wild animal. 

“ hey man does she have family we need to call” MM finally broke the silence not really knowing how to approach the subject giving the way he was acting at that very moment. 

“ yeah me , look mon coeur would you please?” he held the box out to kimiko only she took his hand instead eye filled with sadness. 

“ i think he means like blood family that might wanna know” hughie spoke up . 

“ again me , look open this i promise i will explain after  we can’t fuck about if this doesn’t work i will stop ok please just help me” he said handing kimiko the box once more but this time she took it. A little smile as he went through the medical bag seeing the syringes pulling one out taking the now opening metal box he pulled out a little green tube , filling the syringe as he leaned over her body  , holding it in his mouth as his hand came to her t-shirt ripping it open exposing her bra clad chest. 

“ mate  just stop , she gone ok now need for all this” butcher said softly. 

“ trust me” was all frenchie said before driving the syringe into her chest pushing the plunger as he emptied the green liquid into her body .  “ come on petit fille , come on “ he pleaded holding her wrist feeling nothing only her cold skin .  

“ come on man” mm said softly . 

“ it’s gotta work , you can’t leave me petite fille ,  come on please” he hit her chest as kimiko pulled him away the hope he had drained away as his cries filled the van . 

His eyes never left her ,  it like the were permanently stuck to her frame like universe cruel joke just for him . He thought she would be safer now and yet once more how fucking wrong was he , he could of protected fucking idiot if he didn’t scare he away she would of be with them and not alone to die at the hands of that cunt . he truly fucked it up royal and now his friends were suffering because he was a fucking coward . taking his coat off  as MM patted his back  although his eyes looked away hiding his emotion. Butcher stood over her ready to put the coat over her least do one right thing for her .  just as he went to place it down he saw it her chest moving thinking it was a trick of his mind maybe he finally fucking snapped too . dropping the coat he grabbed her wrist there it was the pulse beating coming to a steady rhythm . 

“ you’ve got to be fucking kidding me” he laughed as they all looked back confused. “ she fucking alive the cunt was right”  the feeling of her skin warming up under the pads of his finger tips . 

“ you little fucker don’t do that to me again” frenchie sniffled although she was still sleeping wrapping butcher coat around her and letting the breathe he felt he was holding since he pick up that phone . 

…………………

She lay peacefully in the bed as frenchie checked on her for probably fiftieth time  heading out to the other who well stick wondering what the fuck just happened. 

“ you gonna explain now cause i’ma be honest if she is a zombie i’ll shoot her no problem” mm said honestly freaked out beyond words could explain . 

“ she not going to be zombie… i don’t think “ frenchie snorted pulling her bag off the ground pulling out the tube filled with an orange liquid. “ this is juliet” he smiled brightly. 

“ keep going you having even tapped the surface and what is juliet ” hughie gulped slightly afraid she was now a zombie . 

“ we had a chat one night i felt like i was putting her in too much danger so i asked her to leave head somewhere no one would find her not even me but she told me she could protect herself and not going anywhere we needed her” he smiled softly as they joined in .  “ she pulled this out something she was working on , worked on the rats so if someone tried to get best of her the plan was to give them  juliet , it was named after the book , play whatever  the kid fakes her death i think anyway that’s what this does like a temp cryogenic that makes you appear dead or just to subdue but if the antidote isn’t given well you actually die , she was never meant to drink it only give it to the ones who caused her harm” he finished explaining. 

“ her being your blood family?” 

“ less anyone knew the safer she was ,  i was working for little nina at the time  and i thought i could do it finally stand up to my father show him how it all felt ,  i was going to prolong it make him really suffer i walk into the house and on his walls where the face of a absolutely broken child a fake smile but the eyes they tell it all  and he came out and laughed when i asked who was she , another disappointment  , a waste of time like me” his eyes darted back to the room . “ she ran away he said  , he couldn’t teach her , she never would learn then my plans changed i killed the fucker easily and quickly, something he never deserved was a quick death and started searching for her in secret if anyone else knew  well not good then we went to a fight den with little nina  i watched as this man stood moving as this tiny little thing faced him no fear , she killed took him down like it was nothing killed him without blinking i went back that  night and again and again til she let me take her away completely”  he smiled wiping his cheek. 

“ you saved her” kimiko held his hand.

“ only to involve her in worse danger” he scoffed .  “ i paid for an apartment sent her cash , paid for school til scholarships came wanted her to live a different life yet i wanted to have her in mine”. 

“ lucky to ave you” butcher said with a nod of his head , he was battling his own emotions , a rarity to happen in his life . a second chance to make things right which only had that feeling of hope change to guilt knowing he was going have a fuck ton of work to make it right. 

“ you knew who she really was didn’t you” hughie asked kimiko who nodded yes. “ course you did” he chuckled. 

 “ juliet that could help us?” 

“ it was only made to protect her and help me out if i needed i just never thought of it til now only thing is we don’t know if it works on supes , she only tested it on rats and well herself” frenchie explained. “ we can always find  though” . 

part four