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mostlysignssomeportents · 1 year ago

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How I got scammed

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/05/cyber-dunning-kruger/#swiss-cheese-security

I wuz robbed.

More specifically, I was tricked by a phone-phisher pretending to be from my bank, and he convinced me to hand over my credit-card number, then did $8,000+ worth of fraud with it before I figured out what happened. And then he tried to do it again, a week later!

Here's what happened. Over the Christmas holiday, I traveled to New Orleans. The day we landed, I hit a Chase ATM in the French Quarter for some cash, but the machine declined the transaction. Later in the day, we passed a little credit-union's ATM and I used that one instead (I bank with a one-branch credit union and generally there's no fee to use another CU's ATM).

A couple days later, I got a call from my credit union. It was a weekend, during the holiday, and the guy who called was obviously working for my little CU's after-hours fraud contractor. I'd dealt with these folks before – they service a ton of little credit unions, and generally the call quality isn't great and the staff will often make mistakes like mispronouncing my credit union's name.

That's what happened here – the guy was on a terrible VOIP line and I had to ask him to readjust his mic before I could even understand him. He mispronounced my bank's name and then asked if I'd attempted to spend $1,000 at an Apple Store in NYC that day. No, I said, and groaned inwardly. What a pain in the ass. Obviously, I'd had my ATM card skimmed – either at the Chase ATM (maybe that was why the transaction failed), or at the other credit union's ATM (it had been a very cheap looking system).

I told the guy to block my card and we started going through the tedious business of running through recent transactions, verifying my identity, and so on. It dragged on and on. These were my last hours in New Orleans, and I'd left my family at home and gone out to see some of the pre-Mardi Gras krewe celebrations and get a muffalata, and I could tell that I was going to run out of time before I finished talking to this guy.

"Look," I said, "you've got all my details, you've frozen the card. I gotta go home and meet my family and head to the airport. I'll call you back on the after-hours number once I'm through security, all right?"

He was frustrated, but that was his problem. I hung up, got my sandwich, went to the airport, and we checked in. It was total chaos: an Alaska Air 737 Max had just lost its door-plug in mid-air and every Max in every airline's fleet had been grounded, so the check in was crammed with people trying to rebook. We got through to the gate and I sat down to call the CU's after-hours line. The person on the other end told me that she could only handle lost and stolen cards, not fraud, and given that I'd already frozen the card, I should just drop by the branch on Monday to get a new card.

We flew home, and later the next day, I logged into my account and made a list of all the fraudulent transactions and printed them out, and on Monday morning, I drove to the bank to deal with all the paperwork. The folks at the CU were even more pissed than I was. The fraud that run up to more than $8,000, and if Visa refused to take it out of the merchants where the card had been used, my little credit union would have to eat the loss.

I agreed and commiserated. I also pointed out that their outsource, after-hours fraud center bore some blame here: I'd canceled the card on Saturday but most of the fraud had taken place on Sunday. Something had gone wrong.

One cool thing about banking at a tiny credit-union is that you end up talking to people who have actual authority, responsibility and agency. It turned out the the woman who was processing my fraud paperwork was a VP, and she decided to look into it. A few minutes later she came back and told me that the fraud center had no record of having called me on Saturday.

"That was the fraudster," she said.

Oh, shit. I frantically rewound my conversation, trying to figure out if this could possibly be true. I hadn't given him anything apart from some very anodyne info, like what city I live in (which is in my Wikipedia entry), my date of birth (ditto), and the last four digits of my card.

Wait a sec.

He hadn't asked for the last four digits. He'd asked for the last seven digits. At the time, I'd found that very frustrating, but now – "The first nine digits are the same for every card you issue, right?" I asked the VP.

I'd given him my entire card number.

Goddammit.

The thing is, I know a lot about fraud. I'm writing an entire series of novels about this kind of scam:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865878/thebezzle

And most summers, I go to Defcon, and I always go to the "social engineering" competitions where an audience listens as a hacker in a soundproof booth cold-calls merchants (with the owner's permission) and tries to con whoever answers the phone into giving up important information.

But I'd been conned.

Now look, I knew I could be conned. I'd been conned before, 13 years ago, by a Twitter worm that successfully phished out of my password via DM:

https://locusmag.com/2010/05/cory-doctorow-persistence-pays-parasites/

That scam had required a miracle of timing. It started the day before, when I'd reset my phone to factory defaults and reinstalled all my apps. That same day, I'd published two big online features that a lot of people were talking about. The next morning, we were late getting out of the house, so by the time my wife and I dropped the kid at daycare and went to the coffee shop, it had a long line. Rather than wait in line with me, my wife sat down to read a newspaper, and so I pulled out my phone and found a Twitter DM from a friend asking "is this you?" with a URL.

Assuming this was something to do with those articles I'd published the day before, I clicked the link and got prompted for my Twitter login again. This had been happening all day because I'd done that mobile reinstall the day before and all my stored passwords had been wiped. I entered it but the page timed out. By that time, the coffees were ready. We sat and chatted for a bit, then went our own ways.

I was on my way to the office when I checked my phone again. I had a whole string of DMs from other friends. Each one read "is this you?" and had a URL.

Oh, shit, I'd been phished.

If I hadn't reinstalled my mobile OS the day before. If I hadn't published a pair of big articles the day before. If we hadn't been late getting out the door. If we had been a little more late getting out the door (so that I'd have seen the multiple DMs, which would have tipped me off).

There's a name for this in security circles: "Swiss-cheese security." Imagine multiple slices of Swiss cheese all stacked up, the holes in one slice blocked by the slice below it. All the slices move around and every now and again, a hole opens up that goes all the way through the stack. Zap!

The fraudster who tricked me out of my credit card number had Swiss cheese security on his side. Yes, he spoofed my bank's caller ID, but that wouldn't have been enough to fool me if I hadn't been on vacation, having just used a pair of dodgy ATMs, in a hurry and distracted. If the 737 Max disaster hadn't happened that day and I'd had more time at the gate, I'd have called my bank back. If my bank didn't use a slightly crappy outsource/out-of-hours fraud center that I'd already had sub-par experiences with. If, if, if.

The next Friday night, at 5:30PM, the fraudster called me back, pretending to be the bank's after-hours center. He told me my card had been compromised again. But: I hadn't removed my card from my wallet since I'd had it replaced. Also, it was half an hour after the bank closed for the long weekend, a very fraud-friendly time. And when I told him I'd call him back and asked for the after-hours fraud number, he got very threatening and warned me that because I'd now been notified about the fraud that any losses the bank suffered after I hung up the phone without completing the fraud protocol would be billed to me. I hung up on him. He called me back immediately. I hung up on him again and put my phone into do-not-disturb.

The following Tuesday, I called my bank and spoke to their head of risk-management. I went through everything I'd figured out about the fraudsters, and she told me that credit unions across America were being hit by this scam, by fraudsters who somehow knew CU customers' phone numbers and names, and which CU they banked at. This was key: my phone number is a reasonably well-kept secret. You can get it by spending money with Equifax or another nonconsensual doxing giant, but you can't just google it or get it at any of the free services. The fact that the fraudsters knew where I banked, knew my name, and had my phone number had really caused me to let down my guard.

The risk management person and I talked about how the credit union could mitigate this attack: for example, by better-training the after-hours card-loss staff to be on the alert for calls from people who had been contacted about supposed card fraud. We also went through the confusing phone-menu that had funneled me to the wrong department when I called in, and worked through alternate wording for the menu system that would be clearer (this is the best part about banking with a small CU – you can talk directly to the responsible person and have a productive discussion!). I even convinced her to buy a ticket to next summer's Defcon to attend the social engineering competitions.

There's a leak somewhere in the CU systems' supply chain. Maybe it's Zelle, or the small number of corresponding banks that CUs rely on for SWIFT transaction forwarding. Maybe it's even those after-hours fraud/card-loss centers. But all across the USA, CU customers are getting calls with spoofed caller IDs from fraudsters who know their registered phone numbers and where they bank.

I've been mulling this over for most of a month now, and one thing has really been eating at me: the way that AI is going to make this kind of problem much worse.

Not because AI is going to commit fraud, though.

One of the truest things I know about AI is: "we're nowhere near a place where bots can steal your job, we're certainly at the point where your boss can be suckered into firing you and replacing you with a bot that fails at doing your job":

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/15/passive-income-brainworms/#four-hour-work-week

I trusted this fraudster specifically because I knew that the outsource, out-of-hours contractors my bank uses have crummy headsets, don't know how to pronounce my bank's name, and have long-ass, tedious, and pointless standardized questionnaires they run through when taking fraud reports. All of this created cover for the fraudster, whose plausibility was enhanced by the rough edges in his pitch - they didn't raise red flags.

As this kind of fraud reporting and fraud contacting is increasingly outsourced to AI, bank customers will be conditioned to dealing with semi-automated systems that make stupid mistakes, force you to repeat yourself, ask you questions they should already know the answers to, and so on. In other words, AI will groom bank customers to be phishing victims.

This is a mistake the finance sector keeps making. 15 years ago, Ben Laurie excoriated the UK banks for their "Verified By Visa" system, which validated credit card transactions by taking users to a third party site and requiring them to re-enter parts of their password there:

https://web.archive.org/web/20090331094020/http://www.links.org/?p=591

This is exactly how a phishing attack works. As Laurie pointed out, this was the banks training their customers to be phished.

I came close to getting phished again today, as it happens. I got back from Berlin on Friday and my suitcase was damaged in transit. I've been dealing with the airline, which means I've really been dealing with their third-party, outsource luggage-damage service. They have a terrible website, their emails are incoherent, and they officiously demand the same information over and over again.

This morning, I got a scam email asking me for more information to complete my damaged luggage claim. It was a terrible email, from a noreply@ email address, and it was vague, officious, and dishearteningly bureaucratic. For just a moment, my finger hovered over the phishing link, and then I looked a little closer.

On any other day, it wouldn't have had a chance. Today – right after I had my luggage wrecked, while I'm still jetlagged, and after days of dealing with my airline's terrible outsource partner – it almost worked.

So much fraud is a Swiss-cheese attack, and while companies can't close all the holes, they can stop creating new ones.

Meanwhile, I'll continue to post about it whenever I get scammed. I find the inner workings of scams to be fascinating, and it's also important to remind people that everyone is vulnerable sometimes, and scammers are willing to try endless variations until an attack lands at just the right place, at just the right time, in just the right way. If you think you can't get scammed, that makes you especially vulnerable:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/24/passive-income/#swiss-cheese-security

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

#pluralistic #social engineering #phishing #ai #swiss cheese security #infosec #finance #fraud #carding

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asreoninfusion · 5 months ago

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UPDATE:

Alas, I did not complete my work in time. I apologise, I'm really struggling to get any spare time at all to work on weighing all the books, taking sample photos, and updating all the information on the site.

The sales will not be going live, however, I will make the site available in its incomplete state. There is no shopping cart active, but you'll have time to look at the books and plan what you might want to get.

Also, if you have any questions, need more information about a book or want more sample images for it, that gives me time to answer those things before the sales are live, which I think will be better for everyone all round.

Doujinshi Sales Update

I am aiming for sales to go live Sunday January 19th @ 19:00 GMT (2pm EST, 11am PST)

I DIDN'T FINISH IN TIME, SORRY. orz SALES WILL BE DELAYED.

(By a week, maybe, more details in the reblog.)

⊱ •❅──────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅──────❅• ⊰

Important notes:

PURCHASES ARE AVAILABLE TO ADULTS 18+ ONLY as many of the books contain explicit content.

ALL BOOKS ARE IN JAPANESE.

All books are secondhand and may have minor imperfections. These will be noted where I've spotted them, but I cannot guarantee the condition 100%.

I AM BASED IN THE UK. I am happy to ship internationally, but shipping costs can be pretty gnarly nowadays.

Hi all! Sorry that this is a little later than anticipated, I have been super busy with Christmas, moving house, and a new job (I joined right at the second busiest event of the whole year), as well as then trying to compile pictures and full information for 500 books...

The plan is:

I have made my own online shopfront for it. It looks a little like this.

Etc., etc. It scrolls a long way.

It is not fancy, but you should be able to just add the books you want into a cart and go to checkout and!! It will calculate shipping for you, because I am adding the weight of all the books so the site can figure it out automatically. There will also be a shipping page with tables of weight brackets, shipping method, and cost for each, so you can preemptively get an idea of what to expect.

(Weighing 500 books individually in an arduous process, alas.)

In any case, it should be super straightforward, just add stuff to cart and check out.

I am still adding cover images for all the books, and as much information about each one as I can, which is why it is taking a while. Please bear with me a little longer, hopefully with the extra preparation time everything will go super smoothly when the site does go live!

Prices

The ""high-end"" popular circles books are mostly around US$6-8 (this is what you can see in the screenshot).

Other circles are mostly around US$4-6.

Some older books that are maybe a little outdated in style or what have you might be on there for just US$2.

There are also a couple that are free, just add them to your order and pay shipping!

Anything higher than these brackets is either because it was very rare and difficult for me to find at the time, or is a particularly large book (e.g. the Reunion Archives in the screenshot is a compilation book containing six previous works in one and a good inch thick).

DISCOUNTS ARE AVAILABLE FOR LARGER ORDERS.

There is 10% off orders over $30, 20% off orders over $60, and 30% off orders over $100. (That's the only way I could figure out how to do it with the particular site builder.)

Tag List

If you would like to be added to the tag list (or taken off, I am just tagging everyone who expressed an interest on the previous post) please let me know!

@kizunatsudoishi @zcyth4 @naturalbeautigamer99 @calenduladreams @charadreammer @miragee19 @namine23 @hard--knock-life @idridian @twerk-tornado @hunnibats @sukiwah @hadriancura @arkaniist @crusher-for-sweets @sideuki @tabkatta @seth-suffers @kamuysaurus

#my days off are monday and tuesday #so the original plan was sales go live on sunday and then i can immediately start packaging and sending out mon and tues #but i think saturday would be better #people have more time to get orders in and i can process and pack them on sunday #and then do post office runs on the monday #tuesday isn't really a day off because i still need to go back to my old work and do a handover ugh #anyway #if i use my days off this week to finish the damn site #it should be ready for next week #i hope #i have no time to exist #plan is to move the sales going live to the same time on saturday 25th #but i'll confirm that when i post a link to the site at the time the sales were originally meant to go live

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whowrotethenote · 2 months ago

Text

𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐀 𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫

A/N // Short story set in the universe of Biggest Fan. This takes place during Wrestle-mania 40 weekend; before All We Do, after Company, and after One Of Your Girls.

Warnings // Angst // Smut // NSFW // Adultery // Profanity // Age gap // Consumption of alcohol // Mentions of disease

Word Count // 5.6k

Disclaimer // Biggest Fan Masterlist // Roman Reigns Masterlist // Join My Taglist // Main Masterlist

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ I knew you in another life. You had that same look in your eyes. I love you don't act so surprised.

— Billie Eilish (Birds of A Feather)

Monday, April 1, 2024

The sun fighting through the sheer white drapes of our living room is enough to wake me all the way up. I groan and shiver at the chill of early morning in nothing but a white tank and silk pajama shorts. There’s nothing on the agenda today. No class. No work. And still, my body decides to rise at seven a.m.

The hefty pile of mail Anthony left on the marble island top catches my attention. Bills, bills, and more bills. The sight of which would’ve given me a heart attack prior to earning myself a seat at a table, where he is the head.

I rapidly shuffle through white envelopes emblemed with companies who want what they’re owed before a blank one halts me. No logo. No company. No return address. Still, my name—Alana Floyd— is printed on the back of it. I rip the top open and unfold the thin stack of papers.

“Demi!” My slippers scrape and slide across the floor of our hallway and I almost slide right past her open door. She rubs her eyes, craning her neck up and squinting with a colorful scarf pulled tight atop her head. I wiggle the loose tickets in my hand. “We're gonna go see…Dwayne.”

Her square face lights up as she plops it back on the plush pillow. “Before I do too much—this isn't an April Fools joke?”

“It's not, I fear.”

“He's a generous Tribal Chief,” she croaks. I scan over the hotel itinerary. April fourth to April eighth. That won't work. “Oh my god—you think you'll wear his underwear?”

“I don’t see him leaving the speedos behind for this one.” I scroll through my messages to find WiseMan.

“All the hotels are probably booked up now.”

I laugh at her seven a.m. cluelessness. “Oh—my man thinks of everything.” I wiggle the other papers adorned with the hotel itinerary and confirmation.

“He's like a genie. Only we got way more than three wishes…and a side of tribal dick.”

i got the tickets. thank him for me pls. No problem. Car will be there Thursday. Should we send it in the morning? we don’t get out of class until 2 that day. we can't stay until the eighth. finishing midterms. we'll have to leave on Sunday morning or Saturday night… I'll let him know

I lean on her door frame, peering down the hall that leads to the kitchen. On the center of the island, a large bouquet—pink and white mix of roses he replaced from Valentine’s day starting their descend to death. Still breathtaking nonetheless.

The gifts just didn’t stop. One week it’s a bouquet too big for me to carry in myself. The next week it’s a bag I don’t even see on the designer’s website yet. Shoes. Jewelry. Whatever. And I didn’t ask for any of it. The stuff on the shelves and hangers of my walk-in can probably feed an entire high school for months.

Demi’s sly chuckle breaks my thoughts—wiping away my smirk that I didn’t even realize captured my face. “What?”

“Oh nothing. Just wondering if you’re going to be staying with me or him.” She screws her face up, mouth falling open while making the bed creak.

Shaking my head, I walk away from her door to go shower. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Cum twice!” She yells down the hall. “One for you—one for me!”

Thursday, April 4, 2024

In the city of brotherly love—home to the greasiest cheesesteaks, where they bleed green and curse you out for absolutely nothing—Demi and I fit right in.

The Ritz-Carlton planted in Center City—structured like a Cathedral inside and out—treated us like royalty. Demi and I didn’t lift a manicured finger and no request was too much.

The room is massive. Built like a penthouse and certainly too much for two girls only staying for a few days. There’s a bottle of champagne waiting for us on a California King—whitest bedding tucked tight to perfection. We don’t waste a second cracking it open. Mouths in a mutual O, when the cork goes flying recklessly, leaving a mark on the ceiling. Somebody else’s problem.

White foam overflows and spills over the neck of the bottle and down her hand. No cups needed. We take turns passing it back and forth, basically inhaling the crisp liquid until the bottle is empty.

The night is ridiculously young. So, we let Summer Walker and Latto be the background noise to our rampant routine of getting ready to hit the streets hard. Tonight we bring in Wrestle-mania weekend the right way.

Already half-way drunk from the bottle of champagne, we end up at Noto—a nightclub where some YouTuber is hosting. Whoever he is, he has the club packed out. Faces wall to wall. Every section full of niggas with jewelry shining, even in the dark—accompanied by women that belong in some rapper’s music video.

In the middle of it, Demi and I, utilize a section to ourselves. Dropping a bag on Ace of Spades and 1942. The DJ plays Dreams and Nightmares and it’s a wrap. Our heads are gone, as we scream the lyrics back and forth as if we lived every single line. Blue lights shining down on us— cameras out, taking videos we don’t even plan to post. Creating enough memories to last a lifetime and stories to brag to our future children about.

Saturday, April 6, 2024

Everything about this Wrestle-mania is different from the one before. The tickets were intended for us—not some miracle-ridden accident due to an old man carelessly flinging tickets around in the air. A much smoother transition from all the hustling and bustling—pushing through strangers like we did last year. No floor seats. Skybox Lounge. An entire suite to ourselves. Removed from all the chaos of pumped up testosterone and rowdy kids down below.

“Excuse me ma’am.” A light touch to my shoulder has my head shooting up. A dark-haired woman in all black, with a headset on and clipboard tucked tight under her arm looks me in the eyes. “Are you Alana Floyd?” She asks.

I hesitate for a moment. I’m not even supposed to be here. Not just here in the skybox where all the important people belong—but here period—supporting my closeted sponsor and fuckbuddy. This makes me rethink answering her—whoever she is. How does she even know my full name?

“…I am.”

“Do you mind coming with me, please?” She steps a little ways back allowing me space.

I look to Demi, whose furrowed eyebrows mimic mine as she shrugs. “Are we switching seats or something?” I ask the unknown lady.

“No.” She shakes her head. “I just need you. You’ll be right back before the main event.”

She’s swift in all her movements as I struggle to keep up in these six inch designer heels—too busy gawking at faces I’ve only seen through a TV screen before, as I am forced to just pass them by. Radiant and charismatic as they seem in character.

It’s all a blur. Everyone moving in a different direction at a different pace. Backstage crew with equipment, men in suits, and more people talking into headsets like hers. She leads me down and down—removed from all the chaos and activity the further we go. Before I know it we’re stopping at a door. A man I know very well coming out of it.

“Lana,” Pauls greets me with more enthusiasm than I expect.

“Paul.” I nod. I see what’s happening now. All three of us are quiet. Paul and I’s smile fading in the silence. The mystery lady straight-faced and all business.

“I’ll be out here waiting.” She’s the first to speak, flicking her head to the closed door Paul came out of.

I nod and face the door, twisting the metal knob to push it open. My breath immediately taken away. That feeling never goes away. I’ll never get used to this. Used to him. The door clicks behind me automatically.

Legs spread, bun loose, as he messes with the red glove on his wrist. Our eyes lock and he stands tall across the way. It’s so weird seeing him like this. Before, Joe was the stranger and seeing him in anything other than ring gear was alarming. Now it’s the opposite. Him without all the extra is comforting and the ring gear is as it’s intended to be—a costume.

The silence is comfortable yet charged. Compelled to speak, but not knowing what to say, I settle for, “hi.”

A clipping breath comes through his nostrils. “Hi,” he responds. Another beat of silence, used to just drink each other in. “I hope you don’t mind that I put you up high.”

“No, it's fine. I’m just happy to be here. I think it's better away from the crowd. I can see everything up there.”

He nods. “Noted.”

I look him over again. Swallowing hard at the gloss over his hard chest and explicitly defined arms. “Are you nervous, at all?”

His upper lip tugs at the corner to reveal the dimple line beneath his dark beard. “Nah.” He shakes his head adjusting the red glove again. “Done this too many times to count.”

“Right. I used to get nervous before every meet,” I share.

“Not you, Miss Penn Relays.”

Didn’t matter how fast I was or still am. I can’t outrun this feeling. Rooted deep in emotions so overwhelming—so foreign, yet familiar.

I giggle. “I know. My mom used to have to talk me down before every race.”

“What would she say?”

“That nerves are only a result of doubt—and there’s no need to doubt cause if I wasn’t supposed to be there—I wouldn’t have been.”

His eyes dance over my frame. “Wise woman.” I nod in agreement. “You think I belong here?” He probes.

“You’re here, aren’t you?”

“And what about you?” He steps closer invading all possible personal space. “You belong here?”

My neck cranes up to not loose sight of his perfect face. He’s so close, I can smell whatever oil they put on him paired with the conditioner he uses for his hair.

His eyes are low as they’re pinned on me. “I’m here, aren’t I?” I answer almost inaudibly.

“Yeah. Yeah, you are.”

I’m caught in that rift, where the part of my brain that stops me from doing what I want—what I feel—it gets fuzzy. Almost like I’m drunk on something. I’m leaning in before I can stop myself. On my tippy toes to accommodate for the eight inches he has on me. I kiss him.

“—I’m sorry.” I’ve never done that without the courage of alcohol flinging me. But tonight, I’m drunk on something else.

His upper body leans down into me, overpowering my presence in this room. My breath hitches with every centimeter of space he closes. Before I know it our lips meet again. Soft at first. Like he doesn’t want to break me. But another follows—and another—until his tongue is being warmed in my mouth and my hand instinctively grips the neck of his neck.

I breathe again when he pulls away abruptly. Our foreheads touching while his brown eyes pierce mine.

“I’m gonna need you back on the bus when everything’s done,” he whispers. My voice fails me, so I nod to indicate I understand. A knock on the door breaks our bubble. “I gotta go.” He pushes his forehead into mine one last time before moving away. Grabbing a spray bottle, he makes his way to the door.

I try to settle the butterflies in the my stomach, paired with the tsunami he left me to deal with down below.

“—And Alana?”

“Yes?” In slits his eyes trace the perimeter of my entire body. Head to toe.

“Fucking perfect.”

Demi gets her wish. Dwayne came out with his speedos—tight and on full display. The man I just left—or a scripted version of him—enters the arena shortly after. Taking his time as usual—strutting and letting the room soak in his power and magnetism.

I don’t know how the two of them are just now tag teaming for the first time. Besides them being family, their chemistry in the ring is harmonious. It just makes sense.

The way he tosses and maneuvers Cody and Seth—it’s equally terrifying as it is thrilling. I shift in the seat—throbbing. A deep pulse growing down below watching his dominance. Another in my heart every time he gets slammed. I flinch at every hit. I wasn’t doing this before. What the hell is wrong with me? I used to be able to watch a match with no issue. I was all for the violence, being able to spot every hit that doesn’t connect or a move that’s just two men working together instead of against one another. But tonight, it looks like every hit might kill him and it has my anxiety at an all time high.

There’s no shock—to me at least—when I hear the one, two, three. A pin by The Final Boss to The American—not so—Nightmare. He looks defeated and I hope it’s all for the cameras and the crowd. On his knees, nose dried up with blood, and hair wild as it can be.

Demi and I scream in celebration like two fangirls that belong in front row. Two of our childhood favorites, live in action, whooping straight ass. It doesn’t get any better than this. Or maybe it does—seeing as I get to reward the winner myself later.

Chugging the last of our drinks, we pack it up to leave. Not even a few feet out of the Lounge and Demi’s scream paired with a gorilla grip on my forearm, has my head snapping in her direction.

“Oh my god!”

I follow her line of sight and gasp.

“Well, hello to you too young lady.”

“Somebody fucking pinch me.”

“I would do it, but I think I’ll get in trouble.” Randy fucking Orton. This weekend is one for the books. He flashes us both a smile.

“I think I’m the one hearing voices in my head, now.” Demi pulls her phone from her back pocket. “Take our picture—please, please, please.”

Taking her phone I step back from them. “How we looking, baby girl?” He questions.

“Like supermodels,” I tell him. “With voices in their heads who should probably see somebody about that.”

I’m not surprised at all, by how friendly he is. A far cry from his menacing character on-screen. Fitting and molding into our tipsy goofiness, like we came here together. He has us laughing so hard, my stomach is tight like I did a core workout. At one point, even lifting his shirt so we can feel his abs.

Mid-laugh, I hear my name being called. “Hey.” I turn to find the lady from earlier with no headset, but still with that urgent energy like she doesn’t have a second to waste. “Just a gentle reminder that he wants you in his trailer, okay?” She tells me, in a tone low enough for only me to receive.

“Yeah, sure.” She’s gone just as fast as she came, like lightning.

I don’t even know how long we stay inside chatting to Randy. We talk about the match—dissecting the storyline and telling him what we think should happen next. We talk about him—how much The Viper meant to us as kids and how good it feels to still see him in the ring after all these years. We talk about him…

“Don’t tell me y’all are here alone?” He looks past us and then turns back the opposite way. Besides us, there’s only about three other groups of stragglers up here still, combined with staff. “No dates?”

“Nope,” Demi answers first. “Just two girls who enjoy shirtless men fighting to the death.”

“Oh, come on. No way your boyfriends let you two come alone. No special someone?”

I laugh bitterly. “Oh, there’s someone. But special?” Yeah, right. I shake my head lifting a brow.

“I know that look. Look, if a guy can’t take the time out to make his presence special—or make you feel special—he doesn’t even deserve to be someone in your life.”

As if my head isn’t all fucked up and twisted already. Leave it to The Viper to twist it some more.

“Look—it was really nice talking to you ladies. So nice to meet you.” He starts his stride in the opposite direction after embracing us both. “Make sure you tag me, if you post that!” He yells back.

“I hope you’re not letting what he said get to your head.” I turn to find Demi already looking. We walk leisurely to the backdoors leading to the outside. “He doesn’t even know the full story. And so what if it's not ideal or traditional? Life didn’t come with a fucking handbook.”

“I think it did though,” I interject. Her eyebrows pinch as we both push through the double doors. The night air of April hitting us. A whole different atmosphere from inside. “The Bible?”

“Girl—you know what I mean.” She links her around mine as our heels click simultaneously on the pavement. The occasional honking and sirens in the near-distance. Philly is not so far removed from New York. “We’re only twenty-two. I don’t know about you, but nothing in life is that serious to me right now. School is almost over. And that’s the most serious thing about me.

“Special?” She continues. “I mean—what even is special anyway? Pfft.” I know exactly what she’s doing and I am appreciative, but my head has always been louder than anyone’s opinions of comfort. The problem is, he is special to me—but I fear that feeling is not mutual. This is not a two way street ordeal.

Tabling the conversation altogether, I switch gears. “You wanna go to South Street, again? Bar hop? I got two hours—give or take.”

I hear the sound of the doors we just came out of slam behind us.

“I'm sorry, Lana. But he really, really wants you back in the trailer.”

Blowing air from my mouth, I do a complete one-eighty on my heels. “He's not even in there. He's gonna take at least another two hours for press.”

I already know how this works. He leaves me in that hotel room for hours, working, before he has a chance to get to me. This is no different. If anything, it’ll be worse because it’s a PPV.

Her hand goes up and down as she offers me nothing. It's then I notice the large man in all black beside her. “Can I at least walk my friend back to the car? I wanna know she's safe.”

“Lana, we have security escorts for that,” she explains in that rushing hue. It does nothing to soothe my irritation of constantly being pulled like a puppet on a string. Special, alright.

“It's fine," Demi grabs my elbow, soaking up the last bit of bite-back I have for Miss Bossy. “It's fine. I'll be fine.”

“You're sure? I can come with y’all.”

“No. Believe me, if a motherfucker try anything, Bron Breaker over here will get the job done better than we can.” She motions to who I assume is supposed to be her escort back to the truck so she can go back to the hotel. “We had our fun already. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

No phone, no human interaction, and only reruns of Family Guy on the flat screen, and something close to two hours passes me by. Just when I begin to dose off, the sound of the bus door closing has me alert. I sit up wiping my eyes with my palms.

He comes busting through the curtain. Moving about in the space as if he’s the only one in here. Not sparing me a single glance. No greeting. Forget a kiss. I wasn’t expecting the sitcom, “honey, I’m home.” But damn. It’s like I’ve been warped into a year before when I met him for the first time.

He goes through the motions of his routine. The black band discarded into the nightstand drawer. He checks his phone—scrolling for only a few seconds before settling it face down. His shoes come off.

I cross my arms, over it all already. Wishing I would’ve just left with Demi. “Is this all we’re gonna do? Cause I can leave now, then.”

He has his days where’s he’s in this funk—sad or angry about something I know nothing about— and we just sit in silence mostly. Or we’ll have sex, but it’s disconnected. Sterile. Robotic almost. Like that’s the only purpose I serve. Like I'm not even a person. There’s no eye contact. No words being exchanged. Barely the inaudible “fuck,” or "shit,” from his lips. It’ll prompt me to muster up all the strength I have to not make a sound. Make myself as small as possible. Let him do his thing. And if I'm lucky he’ll find his way behind me with one heavy arm draped across my hip.

In the beginning, none of that would bother me. I’d just be lucky to even be in his presence. But I would think that we’re miles away from that. That hasn't happened in a while, but I guess we're overdue for one of those nights. I don't understand what the fuck the problem is. He won the match. I'm here and I've been in here like he asked—no, demanded of me. I don’t understand what the need for me to be here is, if he won’t even acknowledge me. It’s pathetic—on both of our parts.

“Take your clothes off.”

“What?” I ask shakily. His words like blows to my stomach. He finally feels the need to grace me with eye contact. I begin to shake my head in protest.

“No—that’s all you wanna do? Take your clothes off, then.” He’s never looked more like the man from TV than he does in this moment. Calculated, mean as hell, and irritable. It’s unsettling. I don’t know that version of him. It rattles me.

“You know that’s not what I meant.” I try my best to keep my voice steady. If I wasn’t staring I would’ve missed the slight eye roll as he turns his back to me.

I leave him to do whatever, while fighting the urge to set these tears free. Redirecting my gaze to my hands after he removes his hoodie, revealing a black tee. I play myself every time I get too comfortable in this. Fucking stupid.

The fierce sound of his hiss has my head snapping in his direction. I catch him in the middle of pulling the shirt off his body with one arm. The scene is horrid. It’s not even the bruises— large, shapeless, globs of green and purple—that force me to stand. It's the rashes. The oh so familiar rashes. Patches of them decorating his strong back.

My eyes sting immediately at the sight, already knowing what causes rashes like that. I try to regulate the scale of my emotions—rewinding back to all the times I had to help my mom put cream on my dad from the breakouts caused by the chemo. He was always too weak to do it himself. Always in pain. My brother couldn’t help—he was off to school during the worst of it.

“Are you okay?” My voice just barely there.

He doesn’t answer. He throws the black shirt across the way and it lands on the corner loveseat. I close the space between us—in more ways than one. His broad shoulders sag, releasing a deep breath. Defeated.

I grab the familiar jar from next to him on the dresser chest, opening it to perform in muscle memory the lightest strokes to the red breakouts on his back. He’s stiff as a board. I press down and make circles until the tacky consistency dissolves into his bronze skin. Not too hard—not too soft. My mother’s instruction rings loud in my head as if she’s standing over me like she used to.

A big breath leaves him as he relaxes, finally. Shoulders not as square with his head hanging. The fight to steady my hands trembling like my bottom lip is persistent. Remembering the shame on my father’s face, as if having cancer was his fault. As if dying was something he orchestrated.

His big hand is warm and firm as he reaches to stop me. Pulling until I’m in front of him now. His broad shadow cascading over me.

I’m not sure about that four letter word, but I do know that I care deeply for this man. He is special to me. Beyond any gift or earth shattering pleasure gifted in between sheets. No—it’s way deeper than that. I recognize his pain—his fears. I’ve seen them before. Maybe in another life, I always tell myself. Or maybe our time had already came and went before. Maybe before this instance, we knew each other in a past life and got all the opportunities we lack now.

There was no wife. No kids. No cancer. No age gap. No need to hide. Things made sense. Our only concern was each other. Maybe our bodies just recognize each other and that pull I always feel is just my old self pointing me in his direction.

“Can you look at me please?” He pleads. The unfamiliar monster from before disappearing— and the gentle Joe back in his place. Hurt still painted on my face, I meet him. “I’m sorry.”

Unable to even speak—not knowing what to say—I just nod. The sincerity in his big brown eyes swallowing me whole.

I don’t even notice he’s leaning until his soft lips are on me. On my lips then to my chin. And just like that, all armor is relieved from me—and him too apparently. If my dad knew I allowed a man to talk to me the way he just had, he’d have nothing but disgust written all over his face. And for the first time ever, I feel like this is a mistake. Not just tonight, but all of it.

It was all meant to be lighthearted. Fun and adventurous. Matters of the heart and greedy emotions weren’t supposed to play the front—ever.

I don’t move as he finds his way to my jawline, nudging my head to the side with his to find my neck. He yearns for all to be forgiven and forgotten. That much is obvious. And I detest myself for being so weak. So pliable.

The heat from him transfers right to me. My insides igniting like a furnace. He knows exactly how to dissolve me and I hate—and love it all the same. Every kiss after another—a silent plea—another sorry. Turning it up a notch, I feel the roughness of his hands on my ass. Kneading the flesh like a skilled baker, earning a moan from me.

Ass up and face buried in the comforter, is how I end up. He fucks me the same way he performed tonight in the ring. Wild, dominant, and taking every opportunity to gain the upper hand. It’s passionate, but not in the traditional way.

“Ohh—fuck, baby!” I teeter the edge of pleasure and pain, tears sitting at the corners of my eyes. Blurring my already obscuring vision.

His hand is firm on my neck in a vice grip. The other resting on the curve of my back, controlling my arch. Every hit, a louder smacking in the space, feeling better than the one that comes before it. Drilling my hole like he owes it something. I end up just sliding and lying flat. It’s too much. His pace doesn’t falter. A heavy hand comes down on my ass as punishment.

“Stop running from me,” he grunts.

He attacks my ear with licks and bites and I melt like ice cream in the summer. Slowing his pace so I can feeling everything. Every vein, the slightest curve—all of it. “I thought about you all day,” he whispers. “Look at me.” I barely turn my head and he’s right there. Fine lines garnishing his flat nose as his lip curls into a slight snarl. “So fucking beautiful.” His tongue comes out and I take it. Snatching away when he switches gears from slow and deep to slow and hard. Slamming into me with the aggression of a dozen street fighters.

The kisses and licks are a thing of the past. Bites—deliberate and firm—take their place. He’s all over me. He’s everywhere. His animalistic grunts countering my helpless whines.

“It’s too good, Lana. I can’t stop,” he warns. And I already know what’s coming. Too blinded by lust and all the angst from earlier, I don’t even protest.

I must be losing my mind. The events of this weekend tainting my judgement—because the next words to leave my mouth can’t be mine.

“C-cum in me. I wanna feel it, daddy.”

“Yeah?” He questions breathless. I nod eagerly.

Slanted eyes glued to one another, he goes even harder. Meeting his peak. Mouth falling open. Swollen inside of me before he breaks free.

“Arghhh!” We moan in unison, notches of energy trickling down. Milking him. Feeling every last drop. I’m in a daze. His nose brushing and sliding against the side of my face, centering me.

“Mmm,” he hums. Pulling all the way out. I turn on my back, defeated, just to find him stroking himself back to life.

God, help me.

His fingers making a trail up and down my bare back has me fighting sleep like a newborn baby full on milk and burped already. I can hear his heartbeat. It’s strong and steady—just like him.

“Are you okay?” I finally ask.

His fingers stop, but he doesn’t answer. Resting my chin on his peck, I find his eyes in the dark. “Don’t worry about me,” is his only response.

I’m sure that weary spirit has been passed down from my mother. Lord knows, she’ll worry about the sun coming up—despite her seeing it every morning of her life. The older I get, the more I start to mimic those same habits. I worry about school and my future. I worry about my friends—Demi and Anthony—and if they’re genuinely happy with life or just going through the motions and putting on a front for me. I worry about my brother and if he’ll ever find his niche in life. My dad—praying every other night that his cell count stays at bay. And now—I worry about him. What he’s doing when he’s not with me. If he ever thinks about cutting the cord on this unstable arrangement. If he’s healthy. If all the man hours put into this job is too much for him. All day long, seven days a week, the unknown takes precedence over what I can see with my own eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I whisper. How delusional am I for noticing this is something like our one year anniversary. All the shit that’s happened in between now and then. I wonder if his scope of us even goes that wide. Instead of ruining the night, I rest my ear back flat on his chest. But his next question has me popping back up.

“Will you stay?”

He’s always so hard to read. Impenetrable at times. Tonight is no different. But I can feel something. Something in him is different. The way he asked if I would stay. If I didn’t know any better I would think he needed me here in place of want.

“I can’t,” I deny in a low tone. It’s then the question of where his family was today emerges like a horizon in my mind. Certainly he didn’t have us both here? He would’ve ended the night with her instead. Right?

A strong hand sliding up the back of my neck, holding firm to cup my head grabs my attention. “Please—stay? For me?”

Our faces just inches from connection—sanctions a real war to stand on business. My responsibilities outweigh anything going on here—but damn. Damn. If I knew I’d be straight with school in spite of missing my last two midterms, best believe, I’d stay right here. Right in this bed. Until it was time to see him win again tomorrow night.

I breathe in from my nose. A smile on my face, even though he’s hard as steel. “I can’t,” I repeat. “Believe me, if I could I would.”

It seems like forever when his eyes bounce around my face before nodding in acceptance. “I’ll be watching from home. I swear.” I reassure him, even though I’m sure he’ll throw it in the trash. My stream tomorrow is probably the last thing on his mind when he steps out and into the openness of the arena. Thousands of people screaming his name and going ballistic. That means much more to him. That’s his special.

I lay my head back to its original spot. Listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat, paired with his breathing, until it grows to light snores. Wishing we could stay like this forever.

Birds of a feather. Oh, how I wish we could stick together.

A/N // this was not supposed to be this long and it was supposed to been up. life got in the way. smh anyway...

all i have to say is Joe...idc how old you are or what you've done. you could've marched with MLK... who the fuck is you talking to like that???

as always, if you read it or even a portion of it, i am forever grateful💗 feedback is welcomed.

next round of shorts before pt 4 Desires is listed on the masterlist. i have no idea when any of them will be up. i've already started all of them and they're at different stages; however, May and June will be very busy for me. i'll keep y'all updated as much as possible.

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nightmare-niko · 8 months ago

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F*cked My Way Up To The Top [Father Charlie Mayhew x reader]

pt.1

Prompts: 2/6/8

Word count: 1457

Warnings: oral! fem receiving, dom! Ish reader— this ones actually kinda just cute lol

A/n: this one was requested but i changed one of the prompts a tiny bit to fit the scheme better! i hope yall still like it tho hehe :3 and also lets pretend that the whip cuts on his back aren't fresh !!! for Y/ns sheets sake...

Copying or translating my writing is not allowed. If you see my work on another site it is stolen. Reblogs are appreciated and encouraged.

The last time you visited Church, you forgot to leave your number. You were too busy trying to sneak out to your car with no one seeing the priest's cum running down your bare (but marked) legs. Charlie had offered for you to stay the night, but you'd rather die than do the walk of shame out of a church in the daylight. When you found out you had a rare three-day weekend you began your planning. It would be unfair for you to show up and cause chaos on a Sunday... again, which is why you chose to dress your best and show up to church on a Monday.

When you strolled into the church, Father Charlie was deep in a conversation with someone you honestly couldn't get less of a shit about. Taking a seat near the back, you watch as Charlie's eyes rake over your form. You shamelessly stare as he gets visibly more and more nervous under your hungry gaze. What power you had over him, it was pathetic on his part. You loved it. The minutes ticked by agonizingly as you watched him. Nothing about the look in his eyes told you he gave a single shit about the person before him. It was honestly extremely amusing.

It wasn't long before he was making his way over to you. "Y/N, I'm surprised to see you back." He slips into the space beside you. Your head reels as his cologne invades your senses.

"I was just so touched by last week's service I had to pay another visit.” You gesture down to your slightly more church-appropriate outfit, "I even dressed modestly.

He hums, eyes darting right to your stocking-covered thighs and pencil skirt, “Are we sure...”

You follow his eyes and flush, “It's not my fault it's cold in here..." You defend.

He laughs quietly, "That's true.” He pauses for a moment before leaning closer. "You think I don't know why you’re here?" His breath is hot against your face.

"You think I don't know you’re itching to get your hands on me?" You’re quick with your response, it shocks him. "You started fidgeting like a schoolboy the moment I walked in.”

You watch as the blood rushes to Charlie’s face, painting the tips of his ears pink. He clears his throat, "Well then, what's your plan?"

"Well, my car is parked out back. So, either we sneak out and go to mine...” you pause in faux contemplation, “or we could risk everyone in this church, hearing us fucking in your office.”

The man before you gasps, you fight to contain your amusement. You try to get up, but he stops you. “What if someone sees?"

"We've been friends since high school, Father. This whole town knows we know each other."

The worry in his brow doesn’t budge, you sigh- “Look, maybe this was a mistake, we can just forget—“ "No- No it—“ he cuts you off, “Well maybe it is but I don’t care. I will repent later, go wait and I'll be out in a few minutes.”

oh god not again

"I won't leave you for thirty minutes again, I promise,” He reassures.

•

You’re 100% sure you blacked out because now you were pulling into your driveway with Charlie in your passenger seat. “Aren’t I just such a gentleman?” You tease.

“Yeah? In what way?” His voice matches your playful tone.

"I drove you to my house before— ya know...” you put the car in park.

“No, I don't know, before what?"

"Before fucking your brains out." You shrug nonchalantly as you pull the key out of the ignition.

“Is that what I did? Fucked your brains out?"

"Yup!" You open your car door, stepping one foot out before turning back to him. "And that's what I'm gonna do to you so— c'mon!”

You skip towards your front door with Charlie right on your trail. It's been a while since you had a man in your house, your body vibrates with anticipation as you unlock your front door.

"You know, one of these days you should let me take you to lunch or something.”

"We'll See," You shrug, shrugging off your jacket. "Behave for me today and I'll let you do whatever you want.” You turn to him, pressing your chest against him, and his hands immediately find their place on your hips.

"I think I like the sound of that~" Charlie leans down, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss. You revel in the taste of his lips on yours. You didn't know what it was— but something about Charlie was so intoxicating. He was tall, much taller than you— and as your torso pressed against his, you realized he was hard in his slacks. "That's," he groans, pressing his visible bulge into your stomach, "that, darling, is what you do to me."

You hum and take him by the hand to lead him through your house and into your bedroom. He looked good-- When did he not look good? Wasting no time you bring Charlie's face back to yours for another searing kiss.

Charlie's hands greedily pull your neatly tucked blouse out from your skirt. You help him lift it over your head, the chill of the room sending goosebumps up your arms. You quickly pull your skirt and tights down, leaving you in just your white ruffle socks and underwear. Charlie quickly mirrors your actions, ridding himself of his shirt and pants quicker than you had expected— damn he was hot.

Your padded feet patter across the hardwood as you make your way onto your bed. You beckon Charlie over to you with your finger. His strong body towers over you as your back collides with the headboard behind you. His finger trails down the side of your neck, the marks he had left last week were mostly faded— that was no good. His lips greedily work to leave more love bites, you whine.

Raking your manicured nails down his toned chest, he groans against your skin, “fuck.” he sits up to get a better look at you under him, “Let me taste you, baby, please?”

You bring your foot up to his chest, pushing gently to get him on his back, "Beg. Maybe I'll consider." You seductively crawl over to him, sitting on his clothed cock. He revels from underneath you, his hands squeezing at your thighs and ass. You kiss all over his torso as he struggles to form a coherent thought— drunk on you.

“Please— Baby please, I need to taste you.” He slurs, “Sit on my face— suffocate me I don't care. I'll die a happy man.”

You giggle against his skin, nipping at him with your teeth playfully. “How did you know flattery works on me~”

“Lucky guess,” he chuckles.

Charlie desperately paws at you wordlessly pleading for you to end his suffering. You comply— removing your underwear. The moment your dripping cunt was close enough his lips were latched onto you. Kissing licking and biting at you like a starved man, he curses against you again.

The grip on your thighs is almost painful, you are certain he would leave crescent moons on them. You loved it. You rut against his nose as his tongue prods at your hole— you moan theatrically, folding over as the pleasure shoots through your whole body. Charlie sloppily laps at your folds until your legs begin to shake.

Your orgasm takes you by complete and utter surprise. Your vision goes white as Charlie licks up everything gratefully.

“fuck!” you pant, removing yourself from above him to slump onto your mattress. Charlie lay there panting— his face and chest kissed in a deep blush. Your eyes trail down his torso and to his boxers, the grey material soiled with a dark spot. You gasp, “did you?”

“yes,” he shamefully admits, hiding his face behind his arms

“Hey hey no it's okay!” you quickly reassure him. You try to pry his arms away from his face. “C'mon lemme see you, baby.”

“I’m embarrassed,” he mumbles.

You laugh lightly, kissing his arms in an attempt to lower his guard. “That was like the hottest thing I've ever experienced.”

“Really?” he peaks out at you.

“uh— are you kidding??” you exclaim, he fully puts down his arm and you leave a peck on his lips. “stay? Just for a little?”

He smiles tiredly, “You're gonna have a hard time getting me to leave.”

Tag list (If you want to be added just comment!)

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hallwayheart · 20 days ago

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started working on the community pool, it looks like nothing right now i know but i'll be working on it this sunday in another long play video. we'll be doing some stuff in create a sim too, so keep an eye out for it between sunday & monday 😚

#text #also ill answer wcif and asks tmmr <3

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jetblack4realz · 9 months ago

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a bicycle - jacaerys velaryon

modern!jacaerys is low key a weakness of mine, i love him

word count: 7.2k

______________________________________________________________

it was an average saturday for you, walking back from the uni library with your headphones placed over your ears and your phone in your hand. you'd finally finished your last assignment for the weekend - an essay for history of old valyria - and you were so entirely ready to just get home, heat up some leftovers, and be done with the week. even though it started again on monday. but for now and sunday you were ready to rest.

you looked around carefully, checking both sides of the road before you crossed the pathway to the other side of campus drive towards where the apartments were. you'd been lucky enough to secure one with your two best friends - alysanne and baela. it was only a short walk from campus, newly built, 2 bedrooms, 2 bath, and perfect for the lot of you.

"hey, watch out!"

you shrieked as you jerked to the side, nearly getting sideswiped by an oncoming bicycle. you hit the pavement roughly, landing flat on your butt as you watched the boy riding the bike finally come to a stop next to you, his eyes wide and his breathing ragged. he suddenly realized that you were on the floor and quickly dismounted the vehicle, tossing it onto the sidewalk and leaning to pull you up and oit of the way.

"are you alright?" he asked as he held your arms, brows raised nearly to his hairline. "i am so sorry, i wasn't paying attention and-"

"that much was evident," you told him, brows knitted in an unimpressed stare. "this the first time you rode a bike?"

his brows furrowed and he hesitated. "well, no-"

"do you not know how to stop?"

he let out an exasperated breath, a light laugh on his lips as he answered, "yes, i do, but-"

"hold on," you said, holding a hand up as you raised your brows at him. "so, you've ridden a bike and you know how to stop?"

he rolled his eyes. "yes."

"this is a freak accident then," you hummed, an amused smile pulling at you lips as he shifted his weight onto one foot, a hand combing through his hair. "i am so sorry that your bike betrayed you like that."

"yes, it's quite tragic. paid a lot for it and yet it refuses to listen to me," he answered, seeming to finally find your responses the slightest bit amusing as a smile began pulling at one corner of his mouth. "what's your name?"

you pulled your backpack onto your shoulder once more, shooting him a goofy smile. "well, i don't think i can tell you with the bike still around. it'll remember and then i'll never be safe."

"yes, i've noticed it does that," he chuckled. he tilted his head as he peered at you, his curls bouncing around his shoulders as his smile grew. "no, seriously. what's your name?"

"y/n," you answered, returning his smile more genuinely now. "y/n baratheon."

"well, y/n baratheon," he began. "i am terribly sorry that my bike attacked you. i promise it'll never happen again; he's going through training right now."

"good, get that thing under control," you said with a breathy laugh. you nodded at him. "what's your name?"

"jacaerys," he told you. "or jace, really."

"wait - jacaerys strong?" you asked, brows raising again. he breathed a laugh.

"yeah," he said slowly. "why?"

"what are you doing riding a bicycle?" you asked, quirking a brow at him.

"what do you mean?"

"i mean i've been shown pictures of your new mercedes by i swear like fifty people. the whole school knows about your new ride - why aren't you driving it?"

"i like my bike," he answered with a shrug, glancing back at the discarded, well-used thing. "easy to get back and forth from my place to here - it's not too far."

"where are you at?" you asked curiously, smiling at the boy. the more you talked to him, the cuter you realized he was.

"over in the north wall apartments," he said, nodding in the direction of said building. "i share one with cregan stark."

"oh, i love cregan!" you cheered with a smile. "we had like three of our gen-eds together freshman year. he was the only one who ever actually did group work with me."

"well, would you maybe want to come over and hang out sometime then?" he tried, his smile both hesitant and charming. "i'm sure he'd love to see you."

"i'm pretty sure my friend alysanne would kill me if i did," you chuckled. "she's been in love with him since freshman year - if she knew i went to his apartment without her i'd never make it."

"bring her," he answered with a shrug. "here, i'll get your number and text you. we can watch a movie or do dinner or something."

he gestured for your phone and your heart jumped as you handed it to him, the contacts tab open. he typed in his name and number and texted himself something before handing it back to you with a soft smile.

"sounds good," you breathed out, smiling back at him gently. "it was good to meet you, jace. thanks for not actually hitting me with your bike."

"anytime," he chuckled. "i promise to never get that close again."

"good," you answered, stepping back as he picked the bicycle up again. you held your hand up for a small wave. "i guess i'll see you around?"

"definitely," he answered as he got back on the bike. "bye, y/n."

"bye jace," you answered, turning to walk down the steps to the next street. you glanced back as he rode off, a blush coating your cheeks before you rushed off to your apartment.

"alys!" you exclaimed, dropping your backpack in your room before going to her and baela's door, pounding on it repeatedly. you heard a loud groan before the brunette girl finally pulled her door open, an expectant look on her face.

"what?" she asked, brows raised.

"i just got you a hangout with cregan stark," you breathed out, a grin wide on your lips.

she didn't answer immediately, her mouth falling open in shock. she shook her head, looking at you intently. "i'm sorry - what?"

"on my way home i almost got ran over by his roommate jacaerys strong - you know, baela's rich stepbrother who's captain of the football team with cregan? well, apparently they're roommates too and he invited me over and i mentioned you and he said then me and you should come over to do dinner or a movie or maybe both, i don't know, but isn't this exciting?!" you rambled, grabbing her by the shoulders with a wide smile.

"alysanne, say thank you, this is your dream!" baela called from behind her, a knowing smile on her lips as she chuckled. you glanced at the girl reading on her bed, smiling widely.

"thank you," alys breathed out in an almost dazed manner. then, she snapped back to it, eyes wide as she stared at you. "when? today? what am i gonna wear-?"

"not today," you laughed, shaking your head. "i don't know when, he hasn't texted me, but i'll let you know and we will find you the perfect outfit, okay?"

"okay," she nodded. "you better tell me as soon as he texts you."

"cross my heart," you said, doing the motion over your chest.

you were doing your homework only an hour later when your phone buzzed, its screen lighting up on your desk. your heart jumped when you saw it was from 'jace 🚲', immediately unlocking it to see what he said.

-how does next friday sound?

"aly!" you yelled. you heard some shuffling before she called back.

"what?"

"does next friday work?"

"uh, yeah!"

"ok!"

you smiled at your screen, waiting a few moments before typing out a response.

next friday works! what time?

three little dots bubbled on the screen as he began to answer you and you anxiously awaited for them to turn into a fully fledged blue text box.

-how about 7? we can do pizza and popcorn and a movie

"aly! 7?!"

"sure!"

sounds great! see you then

you leaned back in your chair with a content sigh. your phone buzzed again and you looked at it lazily, expecting to see a text mirroring your own. you sat up quickly when it didn't.

-actually, i had something else to ask

you didn't reply, seeing him begin to type again, so instead you waited anxiously for his continuation. what else would he have to ask you?

-there's a party tonight at my cousin's house and i was wondering if you wanted to go with me?

your eyes widened and so did your smile, typing back a response quickly.

what time?

-i can pick you up at 8:30?

okay then, i'll send you my address

"oh my gods," you breathed out, laughing lightly. "baela!"

"what?" she called back, seeming to be in the kitchen.

"i need your help to pick out an outfit! i'm going to a party with jace!" you yelled and she was at your door in a second, throwing it open with raised brows and a mischievous grin.

"are we gonna be sisters soon?" she teased.

"baela," you laughed.

"i'm just kidding, he's barely my stepbrother anyways," she hummed, crossing to your closet and pulling the doors open. she began rifling through your various tops and dresses. "but, i'm just saying that you met him two hours ago and now you're hanging out twice this in a week? i mean, what if this party goes terribly wrong and you don't want to see him next time?"

"then i go purely for alysanne and deal with it later," you said with a roll of your eyes. "but, i don't think it'll go wrong. he seems sweet."

"he is... to an extent," she hummed, pulling out a pair of light wash, ripped jeans and throwing them on your bed. they seemed freshly washed and ironed, but you'd completely forgotten about them.

"what do you mean by that? should i not go?" you asked with knitted brows.

"no, you should," she affirmed with a nod, offering you a quick smile before continuing her search for a top. "he's a really good guy. he just seems to hate my dad and so i've seen him be not so sweet."

"i mean, your dad has been known to say some wild things," you breathed out with a laugh.

"no, he's actually been really careful of what he's said around the boys," she answered almost absentmindedly, finding a bandeau top with a strap that went over your neck. It was cute, but you also hadn't worn it in forever. "i don't know. their relationship is not my problem. here, you'd look hot in this, jace would die."

"well, i don't want him to die," you said with a chuckle as you stood and grabbed the top, holding it up. you grimaced, looking at the girl nervously. "you don't think this is too revealing? and it's like, october - i don't wanna be cold."

"jace will bring a jacket," she insisted with a smirk. "at least, i hope. then you can wear his. it's a perfect plan."

"you sure?" you asked.

"i'm sure. i'll turn on the curling iron and aly will do your makeup, you put that on and your converse to go with. we'll get you all dolled up by - what time is he picking you up?" she asked.

"8:30," you answered.

"oh, easy!" she cheered. "okay, hurry up!"

she shut the door to your room and you quickly pulled on the outfit. as you looked in the mirror, even with your hair still in the messy bun that friday classes brought on and your makeup halfway ruined from the day, you thought you did look hot. it was a good feeling.

"y/n!"

"coming!"

you had just finished spitting out your mouthwash when the doorbell rang. alys and baela were at the doorway to the bathroom, grinning as they nodded to the door.

"have fun," alys said in a sing-song tone.

"you look hot," baela told you. "drop dead gorgeous. don't let him kiss you yet."

"thank you and no promises," you hummed with a laugh as you passed them and crossed to the door, your phone in your pocket. "i'm not bringing my keys so let me in when i get home, okay?"

"you got it babe," alys said. you nodded and took a breath before pulling the door open.

the first thing you noticed is that he was, in fact, wearing a jacket. a leather one at that. it was an oversized thing with big buttons and stitched pockets that resembled almost more of a blazer, but you kind of loved it. paired with a white henley, basic jeans, and black nikes, he looked damn good.

it seemed like he thought the same of you, his eyes finally returning to your own as a light blush covered his cheeks.

"you're beautiful," he told you with a smile. you blushed at the words, noting how he didn't just say that you looked good or looked pretty - but you are beautiful. what boy says that?

"thank you," you said, smiling softly. "you're really handsome."

"thank you," he answered, smiling more openly now. he held out his arm. "you ready?"

"yeah, let's go," you said, taking his arm gratefully and shutting the door behind you.

you decided that jacaerys strong was the sweetest boy you'd ever met, holding every door open for you, including the car door, giving you aux but turning it down enough to keep conversation with you, and keeping your arm in his when you guys finally entered the party, pulling you out of the way of clumsy drunks.

a few boys stopped jace on your way through the house, yelling loudly something you couldn't understand over the music. jace laughed loudly, his touch to your arm gentle but secure, glancing over at you briefly before answering the group of boys.

"won't be by monday," he laughed, earning a series of giggles from the boys opposite you. he nodded along with them for a few moments before excusing the two of you and continuing along.

"who was that?" you asked.

"a few guys from my team. asked something about getting better at the drills, don't really know, they were really drunk, but i guess i answered right," he chuckled.

"guess so," you laughed.

"do you want a drink?" he asked, one hand hovering over the small of your back as he guided you towards the drinks table.

"do you think there's one that's nonalcoholic?" you asked, glancing back at him before peering at the punch table. he grimaced as you stopped in front of it.

"i doubt it," he mumbled. "why? do you not drink?"

you shrugged. "not regularly. i'm usually the dd."

"well, i'm the dd tonight, so if you'd like to you're welcome," he offered, gesturing to the beers in a small bucket at the end of the table. "or if not, that's totally fine too. whatever you want."

it was funny how he was so confidence and yet still nervous. it was endearing.

"maybe one or two, but i'm a bit of a lightweight," you chuckled.

"i'm not one to judge," he said with a smile, hands up in insistence.

"oh, sure," you laughed as you popped open a beer. "like you can't handle your drinks."

"okay, maybe i gave the wrong impression," he said with a chuckle. "i can hold my own."

"as you should," you giggled, taking a sip of the beer as he looked over you to where some people were sitting around bonfires in the backyard. he grabbed your hand and began to pull you towards them before hesitating, looking back at you.

"is this okay?" he asked, squeezing your hand. you smiled at the boy.

"yeah," you assured, squeezing it back. he grinned and dragged you to where a few of his friends were calling his name, you giggling behind him.

when he held the door for you next, his jacket was over your shoulders, both of you exhausted from the night's activities. you'd been coerced into a few games of pool, of which you surprised him with your expert abilities. he showed you up in darts, and then you both wrecked cregan and aegon in a ping pong battle. needless to say, it was a freaking huge house with a lot to do and it was a lot of fun.

"thanks for tonight," you said when he started driving, his hand resting on the middle console ready for the taking. he smiled as you did, squeezing it softly.

"of course. i figured if we were going to be setting up our best friends we should at least be familiar, right?" he asked, shooting you a goofy grin.

"true. and i suppose this is recompense for you almost killing me on your bike," you hummed, letting out a soft giggle as he shot you an offended look.

"i did not almost kill you. you fell, and that's my bad, but you're fine," he said. he paused for a moment, glancing between the road and you before finally settling his gaze on the street. "so, if tonight is my official apology, what should next weekend be?"

you hesitated, a smile growing on your lips. you looked at him carefully. "well, a cute boy and a cute girl hanging out, having dinner, and watching a movie while trying to set up their friends... i guess, if only for the sake of alysanne and cregan, we have to call it a double date."

"right," he nodded, trying to hide his smile behind pursed lips. "if only for them."

"of course."

"and me."

you looked at him with a wide smile. "you are a bold one, aren't you jace? getting my number, asking me to hang out twice in one week, asking me on a date..."

"well?" he asked, glancing at you with a grin. "are you opposed to it?"

"no, i don't think so," you answered, your hand entirely comfortable in his grasp as you leaned back into the seat. "hey, i like your car by the way. a lot nicer than the bike."

"thanks," he said. "but, i like my bike better."

"what? why?" you laughed. "this car is beautiful."

"it's too much," he answered with a shrug, turning onto your street without letting go of your hand. skills. "it's not my style."

"then why'd you buy it?" you asked curiously, tilting your head as you looked at him. he parked next to your own car, a crappy old ford that your parents had given you for your 16th birthday.

jace sighed, leaning back in his seat. "i didn't. my stepdad did."

"daemon?" you asked with furrowed brows. his eyes snapped to you.

"how do you know him?" he asked.

"baela's my best friend," you told him. "and one of my roommates. i... heard about the wedding. it didn't sound like fun, i'm sorry about that."

"it wasn't," he said, shaking his head as he remembered. "only a year after my dad died. a year. it's bullshit."

"that would be really hard," you said. "and i reckon you and daemon don't get on very well?"

"not at all," he answered.

"so is that why he bought you the car?" you guessed. "to try to win you over?"

"yep," he said, eyes narrowed in thought. "that's also bullshit."

you didn't say anything, sensing his frustration and not wanting to say anything insensitive. he looked over at you, his face softening when his eyes met yours. he tried at a smile, eyes moving passed yours out your window. his smile bloomed, and he squeezed your hand.

"my dad used to have a car like that," he said, looking at your dingy suv. you laughed lightly, looking back at him.

"really? that's mine. it's an old, messed up thing, but i like it," you told him.

"yeah, my mum sold dad's before even asking me. guess that's also why daemon bought this," he said, patting the door of the car. he sighed heavily before glancing at the time. "we should get you inside."

"yeah," you mumbled, looking from the clock to him, almost shocked to see him already looking at you intently. "i had a really good time, jace. thank you."

"anytime, seriously," he said, smiling more genuinely. his grip tightened on your hand for a moment, the two of you simply staring into one another's eyes before he leaned back, releasing your hand. "wait there."

he exited the car and rounded it, opening your door and offering his hand back to you. you giggled and took it, the boy shutting the door behind you and beginning to walk you back to the apartment.

you swung your hands in between you as you walked in silence, nearing your door. when you stopped, you hesitated to knock, instead just looking back up at him.

"jace?"

"hm?"

"will you kiss me?"

he grinned, stepping towards you and raising a hand to cup your cheek. "well, since you asked."

he captured your lips in his gently, tilting his head to allow better access. your free hand rose to his chest, kissing back happily. he was a good kisser, you immediately noticed, rhythmic and smooth, gentle and yet still firm. he pulled away, but you pulled him back in for another, the boy smiling as he returned the favor.

when you finally separated, you both were grinning.

"you're bold," he hummed. "giving me your number, going on two dates with me in a week, asking me to kiss you..."

"oh shut up," you laughed, pecking his lips one more time as he smiled.

"i'll see you later?" he asked.

"for our date," you said with a nod. "7?"

"yep. what kind of pizza do you like?" he asked.

"any kind," you answered with a shrug. "i'm not picky."

"want me to pick you up?" he questioned.

"nah, i'll drive me and aly over. maybe me and you can go for a little drive to give them some alone time," you suggested, causing jace to chuckle.

"i'd like that," he told you.

after another peck to the lips, you finally stepped back, knocking a few times for aly and baela to let you in.

"thanks again," you said. "i'm excited to see you again next week."

"me too," he agreed with a smile, squeezing your hand one last time. "goodnight, y/n."

"goodnight, jace."

he walked off as baela pulled the door open, the girl grabbing your hand and dragging you inside.

alys was sitting at the counter with a tub of cookie dough that you three regularly snacked on, her eyes wide in question as baela smirked, locking the door behind you.

"his jacket," she pointed out, you suddenly realizing you were still wearing it.

"oh, wait, let me go give it back!" you said, stepping back to the door but she shook her head.

"no, no, no, you'll give it back next week. let him think about you," she said.

"i think he already is," alys laughed. "i mean, did you see that kiss? it was cute!"

"what?" you asked, eyes wide. "you saw?"

"we may or may not have looked out the window," she said with a shrug. "you guys are cute."

"he's a perfect gentleman, i literally think i'm in love," you sighed as you took a seat next to her, grabbing her spoon and dipping it into the cookie dough.

"alright, don't get too hasty," she laughed.

"no, i'm serious. it's so easy with him, he's just... comfortable," you told them, looking back at baela. your face was serious when you told her, "i think we may end up sisters."

she laughed loudly, coming to your other side and throwing an arm over your shoulder. "let's just see how the next one goes, ay?"

you talked to jace a lot. like, a lot. when you exchanged schedules, he somehow found time in his own to meet you halfway and talk before he dropped you off at class and you both finished class at 2, which meant you could go get food afterwards.

you saw him every single day before the date and always picked up one another's facetime calls, something you looked forward to after your shift at the campus coffee shop. he always looked so happy when you picked up the call or when he did, like he didn't believe after the last one that you'd speak to him again.

unsurprisingly, he talked to you a lot about his family. you learned about his brothers and their little quirks, that his closest brother luke was a computer science nerd and in his last year of secondary school. and then there was a wide age gap, joffrey being ten and in fourth year at the school on dragonstone jace went to as a kid. and then the two littles, viserys and aegon at 4 and 6.

you told him about your family and your little siblings. you thought your little sister would get along well with joffrey and he agreed.

and then he spoke with you of his mother and stepfather. he was conflicted - his father harwin had only passed a year prior to his mother's second marriage in a housefire since he was a firefighter. apparently he loved his work, but he got trapped saving a family and though they survived, he didn't make it home. it killed jace and his brothers, but he always felt his mother too indifferent.

"her and daemon began dating what felt like the next day," he said over facetime one day, brows knitted tightly as he spoke. "even joffrey noticed the strangeness and he was 4!"

"that is rather interesting," you said slowly, trying to gauge his thoughts as he sighed.

"and not to mention they have the same last name. that's odd, isn't it? targaryen isn't exactly common, but apparently they did an ancestry test and they're like 4th cousins once removed. for me it's a little close, but i'm not allowed to have opinions when it comes to daemon," he huffed.

you were surprised that he was confiding in you so much, but as you recalled everything you knew through the grapevine about jacaerys strong, you realized that he didn't have close friends. he had a million casual friends, but everyone knew he and cregan were super close and that was about it. if anyone else it was his cousins, but even then, how would he be able to talk to them about family issues if they were to get the wrong idea?

"i get what that's like," you told him softly. he looked to you quickly, furrowing your brows. "my mother died in childbirth when i was little and a few years ago my dad started dating some lady... she was weird to say the least. super into magic and witchy stuff, and she had a strange obsession with my little sister and her Lord's plans for her. dad didn't believe me when i told him about it and then i moved away for school. so, yeah, i get it."

"your mum died?" he asked with furrowed brows. "why didn't you tell me that?"

you shrugged, offering a sad smile. "i wanted you to feel like you could talk. i don't need to talk about it anymore, it's been so long."

"just because you don't need to doesn't mean you don't want to," he said, offering a gentle smile. "if you ever want to talk about it, or even just talk about her i'd be happy to hear."

this brought a fuller smile to your lips. "yeah, i think i'd like that."

you readjusted your position on your bed, turning over so that you could see him again on your phone screen. "we're a lot more alike than i thought, jacaerys."

"yeah, we are. how convenient."

you smiled fondly. "how convenient."

when you showed up that next friday in a simple pair of jeans and graphic tee (alysanne in something incredibly similar due to her fear of not being dressed properly), you did not expect to be greeted with a kiss from jacaerys.

he pulled the door open with a wide smile, wrapping an arm around your torso and pressing a quick kiss to you lips before tugging you in, his smile twisting mischievously when he pulled away, causing you to laugh once, obviously shocked. you didn't argue, but you were definitely caught off guard. he'd only kissed you once since the party last weekend and it was when he was walking you home from work with no one in sight.

not in front of your best friend.

alys just stood there with a smirk as he pulled you inside next to him, waving her in welcomingly as he smiled widely.

"cregan is in the kitchen," he said. "we decided we would make the pizzas tonight. you know, make it more personal."

"oh, that's fun," you said, letting go of his hand to fall back next to alys, a giggle on her lips as she watched you.

"i see what you mean about it just being natural," she teased as you rolled your eyes, following jace into the kitchen.

"i didn't tell you this, but we've been facetiming almost every day since the party," you whispered, a light blush covering your cheeks. "and he's been dropping by to see me at work."

she gasped with an all-too-excited smile.

"is he who you were talking to while you were studying earlier? and when you were making breakfast?" she asked.

you didn't say anything, instead laughing and dragging her into the kitchen after jacaerys. cregan was standing at the counter, placing circles of premade dough onto cookie sheets.

"creg," jace said. the stark boy turned with a smile, spotting you immediately.

"y/n!" he cheered. you laughed lightly.

"hey cregan," you said. you then took alysanne's arm, smiling sweetly at her and then cregan. "you remember my friend alysanne, right?"

"from geography? yeah, it's good to see you!" he said, smiling widely at her. you held onto alys as you felt her knees literally buckle, keeping her up as you pleaded with the gods for her to be normal.

"you... remember?" she mumbled. you elbowed her and she straightened up, holding your arm tightly. "it's good to see you too! what toppings do we have?"

you let go and pushed her to approach him, eternally grateful that she began a conversation. as he began showcasing the pepperonis, cheeses, peppers, sausages, and pineapples, you stepped back to jace's side.

"i don't think we'll make it out for our drive," you whispered with a laugh. he chuckled, wrapping an arm around your torso.

"i think they'll figure it out, we'll be fine," he mumbled before dragging you to make your pizzas.

you carefully picked out your favorite toppings, decorating yours in a smiley face after placing on the sauce and cheese. jace copied you, attempting to create a cool emoji with pepperonis as sunglasses, but struggling majorly. eventually, he moved the meats into the shape of a heart, filling it in with pineapple.

"you like pineapple on pizza?" cregan asked, his face scrunched in disgust.

"you don't?" jace asked sassily, popping one in his mouth.

"gross," alys said with a shake of her head.

"well, what do you think, love?" he asked you, brows raised in question. with him calling you 'love' you couldn't exactly think anything, but you tried, just shrugging and offering him a small smile.

"whatever you say, jace," you said with a laugh.

"you don't like it?" he asked in fake shock.

"i don't mind it!" you defended sheepishly. "i'd eat it, but i wouldn't choose it. you know?"

"i'll always choose pineapple pizza," he hummed, eating another one.

"and that's fine," you laughed. he offered you a piece, which you accepted since it didn't have tomato sauce and cheese on it.

"alright, let's throw it in and then we can start a movie," cregan said.

the boys placed your pizzas in the oven as you and alys went into the living room. you walked closely to her, whispering quietly to her a rehash of your plan.

"we each get a corner and then you get to cuddle with cregan and me with jace," you mumbled.

"i know, i know," she whispered back with a snicker. you both sat on the couch, aly tucked in one corner and you sitting nearer the other side, but not so far away that it was suspicious. "trust me, i'm doing what i can to get close to him."

"you got this," you told her as the boys entered the room again, jace flicking the lights off. the boy immediately made himself cozy in the corner by you, offering you his hand. you took it with a smile and he pulled you closer slightly, until you finally bit the bullet yourself and sat by his side. cregan took to aly's side, pulling a blanket off the back of the couch to place over them both.

"do you want a blanket?" jace whispered, to which you shook your head.

"i'm good for now. but, i do have your jacket in my car," you told him. he grinned.

"we'll go get it later," he said, winking at you. he grabbed the remote off the arm of the couch and began messing around the main screen, finally clicking on the hbo icon. "what do you guys wanna watch?"

"a horror movie?" cregan suggested. "a new one just got on hbo."

"oh yeah?" you asked, resisting a laugh as you glanced at alysanne. "alys isn't the biggest fan of scary movies."

"i like them," she defended. "i just scare easy."

"don't worry," cregan said with a grin, leaning towards her. "i'll protect you."

you cringed, jace laughing as alysanne blushed.

"we can watch a horror movie then," you said decidedly, looking back at jace. he laughed, nodding, and working through the horror section until he landed on one. "the visit? that one makes me laugh."

"it makes you laugh? it freaks me out," cregan said, looking at you like you were crazy.

"the grandparents are just crazy and there's literally a part with a naked grandma," you laughed. "i can't watch it with a straight face."

"well, let's watch something we haven't seen and y/n won't laugh at," jace said, smiling at you. "how about hereditary?"

"i haven't seen that," you hummed. "let's watch it!"

jace clicked on it and it started, alysanne snuggling into her blanket as cregan put his arm around her. it was such secondary school moves, but hey, whatever works. when jace did it to you butterflies still erupted in your stomach, so obviously there's something to it.

the scene opened when jace whispered to you, "you want popcorn?"

he didn't even really wait for you to answer before pulling you up and into the kitchen, you resisting the urge to laugh at his movements.

it had only been a week and already everything he did just made you giddy.

he threw a bag of popcorn into the microwave before turning to you with a grin. he wrapped his arms around your waist, leaning closer to you. "i'm really glad you're here."

your arms wound around his neck. "me too."

"wanna come over tomorrow too?" he asked, smiling goofily.

"you're clingy," you laughed lightly.

"i like you," he corrected. "i like you a lot."

"i like you too," you hummed with a small smile.

he kissed you then, deeply, his lips moving in perfect rhythm with your own. his hand threaded through your hair and yours tugged at the hairs on the nape of his neck, earning a small smile. you kissed until the microwave beeped, and even when you pulled away, he pulled you back in for a smaller, slower one. he pressed a peck to your lips, smiling at you before grabbing the popcorn.

you held his hand as you pulled him back to the couch, tucking yourself in his side comfortably. it was a bit easier having confessed a little bit, beginning to snack on the popcorn you held between you.

soon enough the pizzas were finished and you ate them while watching the movie. you tried a bite of jace's pineapple pizza and you had to admit that it wasn't half bad. he ate like half of your smiley face pizza, but you couldn't stay mad at him for too long.

you noticed about 1/4 of the way through the movie that alysanne and cregan were whispering to each other, and that every time anything scary would happen she would jump and he would laugh, holding her completely in his arms by the halfway point. you leaned into jace's embrace, shutting your eyes tight when certain things would happen. jace would chuckle and run a hand through your hair, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"you're such boyfriend material," you mumbled to him, looking up at him with a smile. "you're seriously so sweet and so comfortable."

"just for you," he mumbled in return, shooting you a short smile.

eventually, you realized that you weren't hearing cregan whispering or alysanne gasping at parts even jace jumped a bit at and you made the mistake of glancing over at them.

as soon as you caught a glimpse of his tongue down her throat you turned right back into jace's chest, laughing awkwardly as he chuckled, shaking his head.

"told you they'd be fine," he whispered to you, laughing as you muttered, "gross."

when the movie came to a close, neither of them noticed. jace took your hand and pulled you off the couch quietly, a finger to his lips as he pulled you up the stairs and to a room you quickly realized was his own.

"jace..." you said slowly, shaking your head before he did the same, his eyes wide.

"no, that's not what i mean," he said quickly. "no, i just - just come here."

he led you to a door by the window and then took you out onto what you discovered was his balcony. he pressed a kiss to the side of your head before looking up at the stars, a content smile on his lips.

"i like to sit out here sometimes and just think. you ever do that?"

"all the time," you answered with a small smile, holding his hand tightly in yours. "what are you thinking about right now?"

he hummed softly before looking at you with that charming grin he always has on. "you. how beautiful you are and how sweet your heart is. i like talking to you. a lot. and i like being around you... it's easy. way easier than it's ever been with anyone else."

"that's what i've been thinking since i met you," you told him with a small smile. "i don't generally believe in fate or destiny, but if it were a thing, this would be it."

he chuckled, squeezing your hand. "who's to say it isn't?"

you both gazed at each other for several moments, just smiling, comfortable in the silence of each other's presence.

"should we go on a drive?" you asked, swinging your hands. "you can drive if you want, since you always wanted one."

"let's go," he said with a grin, kissing you gently before pulling you out of his room, down the stairs, and out the door. alysanne and cregan were still making out on the couch with a new movie, some adam sandler romcom, playing in the background.

you tossed him the keys when you reached the suv and you climbed in. he adjusted the seat, a lot thanks to his long legs, while you buckled up and started the old thing up. he grinned as it revved to life, clicking his seatbelt secure.

"where are we going?" he asked.

"wherever your heart so desires," you mused with a light laugh.

"alright," he chuckled. he backed out of the parking space and made way for the highway, your hand clutched in his the whole way.

you sang along to one direction and the jonas brothers on your way to the hill jace eventually parked at, the boy just grinning at you as you sang your heart out. he knew more songs than you expected and you loved when he attempted zayn's high parts or nick's whiny disney voice - it made you laugh so hard how terrible it was.

he pulled you out of the car and onto the roof carefully, keeping you tucked in his side as you guys looked out over the small city that was your college town of king's landing. you loved it, truly. it was home now and you're glad it was.

"i have a question," he said randomly, leaning his cheek on the top of your head as you hummed in response, urging him to continue. "what is your ideal timeline of a relationship?"

you took a moment to decide how you would answer this, really contemplating what mattered to you.

"i don't have one," you mused eventually, turning your head to glance at him with a small smile. "i guess the only thing is that i don't want to date someone for 5 years and then have a year engagement. that's too long. i feel like if i know, then i'll know."

"yeah, i get that. i agree," he said with a nod of his head. "so, if i were to ask you to be my girlfriend... would that be okay? would you say yes?"

"in theory if you asked that, i'm sure i would," you said, your smile gradually growing.

"okay," he said simply before turning to you, both your hands in his large, warm ones. "will you be my girlfriend?"

"i'm sure that's fine," you hummed, grinning before you pressed a kiss to his lips. "yes, jace. of course."

he was ecstatic, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you closer to him as he captured your lips in his, his arms winding around your torso. you kissed him back eagerly, fingers playing with his curls as he flicked his tongue across your lip. you allowed him entrance for a few moments before pulling away with a grin, catching your breath.

you were basically between his legs with how close he'd pulled you at this point, the boy pulling you back in for what felt like a dozen more mini kisses. you laughed, finally pulling him off and falling into his chest, arms wrapping around you in a warm embrace. he pressed a gentle kiss to your head and you could feel his smile.

"i guess i do have to thank daemon for the car," he hummed. you furrowed your brows.

"why?" you asked him.

"well, if i didn't hate it so much i wouldn't have ridden my bike to school and never would've met you. and now that i have you, i realize that that would suck," he admitted, enjoying the spark of joy that flickered in your eye as you peered at him.

"you're a dream, jacaerys strong," you told him.

"i do my best," he chuckled.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

thanks for reading! leave a request in the comments or message me privately! i love writing, so if you've got an idea you need fleshed out on paper i'd love to be the one to do that for you

masterlist!!

#jacaerys velaryon x reader #hotd jacaerys #jacaerys x reader #prince jacaerys #jacaerys targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #modern jacaerys x reader #modern jacaerys #harry collett #jace velaryon #jace targaryen #harry collett x reader #hotd #hotd season 2 #got #targaryen

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stonedstr8 · 10 months ago

Text

TOKE 'N STROKE

"Ads are getting so damn invasive." Lucas thought to himself, clicking skip on yet another pointless car commercial interrupting the video essay he was watching. "You think the algorithm would know its audience by now, I'm too gay to drive!"

He laughed a little bit at the joke, running a hand through his soft, bleached blonde hair. He was the epitome of a high-maintenance twink, with his smooth, hairless body and perfect sense of style. He was smart too and liked to boast about it, with a scholarship for his English Lit degree and being made President of his university's LGBT Chapter, which he was hoping to use as a stepping stone to become Student Body President next year.

Leaning back again in his chair he reached for his cellphone, seeing a text from his boyfriend Alex.

Alex: "Hey cutie, still busy with finals this weekend, but have time for a dinner date Sunday night?"

He smiled to himself, giving an eager text back to set it up, and to wish him well on his upcoming exams. "Ugh, I need to start studying too, Monday's going to be one hell of a final... I'll focus on it and head to the library after this video and-"

Just like that, his train of thought was interrupted again by a stupid ad, this time some obnoxious psychedelic visuals and a bad electric guitar riff blared out of his monitor. It startled him so badly that he seized up for a second, accidentally clicking the ad and being brought to their store page. "Broski's Bud's, one stop ship and shop for weed strains to fix your brain..." He rolled his eyes at the cringe marketing, getting ready to close the tab when a pop-up opened trying to tell him all about a deal he 'wouldn't want to miss out on'. "No thanks, stupid site, you can keep your Bro Buds or whatever to yourself." but every time he hit X on the popup another would open, being more and more insistent each time about new deals, until finally a desperate '90% OFF AND SPECIAL STARTER KIT AS A BONUS WITH YOUR FIRST PURCHASE' filled his screen. "FINE," he scoffed at his computer, "I'll take a look at the stupid site. My therapist suggested I try out weed to help lessen my anxiety anyways, so might as well get a good deal on it..."

Clicking the pop-up added the 'starter kit' to his cart, it was a pack of pre-rolled blunts and some sort of mystery box, but the description didn't help him understand it much either. "Get ready to step into the zone and open ur mind with this one bros, Broski's Buds bestselling strain, Toke 'n Stroke, is sure to change your life by stimulating a high never felt before! This isn't your sissy uncle's strain, this shit puts hair on your chest like a real man!"

"God this is so cringe, I bet they get all kinds of business marketing to the dumb jocks in town, no wonder their brains are mush. Still, it's just weed and for $20 I might as well give it a try, I probably won't find it cheaper anywhere else..." sitting in thought about it for a few seconds, Lucas finally filled in his payment info and placed his order, getting a free upgrade to same-day delivery since they seem to have a storefront a few miles from his apartment.

"Well, there goes my library plans I guess, I'll have to wait around for delivery since my package will probably get swiped otherwise..." Lucas sighed, turning off his computer and plopping down onto the couch, picking up his Switch to play Animal Crossing and kill time.

A few hours passed and the sky got dark before finally a long buzz came from his intercom. "Took them long enough, it's nearly 9pm!" he complained, putting his jacket on to head downstairs. When he got down there the delivery guy had already gotten into his car again, driving away and leaving Lucas to carry the package back upstairs all on his own. It was bigger than he expected, taking both hands to lift it and keep it stable. "Jesus, this thing must weight like 40 pounds! What did they put in here?"

After a bit of struggling and the occasional break to catch his breath, Lucas pushed his package into the living room, collapsing on the floor next to it for a while. "After that workout I'm surprised I don't look like the douchebags around campus." he laughed to himself, bouncing up to get a box cutter and pry his package open. After taking the carton of pre-rolled blunts out, he started into the box with a bit of confusion and disgust, pulling things out one after the other.

"A sleeveless tank top that says 'Toke 'n Stroke Bro'... A pair of douchey sunglasses... Some red gym shorts, socks and slides... Ew, a snapback saying 'Who ate all the pussy?', why the fuck would anyone wear this!... And 2 dumbbells, no wonder this thing was so heavy! All of this is useless shit that's gonna end up in a donation bin now, I'll have to drop this trashy stuff off tomorrow on my way to the library... But hey, at least the weed seems fine, smells... potent." He said, tossing everything back into the box and taking a whiff of one of the blunts.

Kicking back on the couch again, he played with the blunt in his hand for a while before finally having the courage to light it up, taking a hit. Immediately he started coughing, not used to the sensation, but it did make his brain start to feel... fuzzy. "Damn, okay I need to push past it and get used to it." he said, lighting up for another hit of the blunt, this time barely a cough escaping his throat, feeling suspiciously more used to it. Then another, and another, until finally the whole blunt was gone. Sitting in his daze for a while, he enjoyed the sensation of his mind drifting around experiencing the high, his anxiety melting away as if he didn't have a care in the world. Eventually he decided to try and get up, but his body slumped over off the couch and hitting the floor, the room fading to black...

...

When Lucas finally came to again, the first thing that hit him was the strong smell of weed floating around in the air. "Damn bro, did I smoke the whole set or what..." he laughed groggily, getting ready to stretch out and get back to laying on the couch before he was startled by the sound of moaning blasting from his TV, eyes shooting open in confusion. On the screen, two busty lesbians were making out, them taking turns groping each others boobs and fingering each other. "What the fuck bro, how long has this been on?" he cursed, nervous that the neighbors nextdoor might have heard it playing as he started desperately looking for the remote.

When he couldn't find it in the cushions, he got up from the couch only to be met with his feet kicking a bunch of empty beer cans. "Dude, there's gotta be 2 dozen thrown all over the floor, did I have a party or something? I don't even know anyone who drinks beer..." he mumbled, going to scratch his head in confusion, but was even more confused when instead of his hair he felt a hat on top of his head. "Huh?" he thought, as he looked down at the floor again, noticing that instead of his skinny jeans and converse he was now wearing the socks and slides from the box, along with the sleeveless tank top and the shorts too. He stumbled his way to the bathroom door still baked out of his mind, mouth dropping open at his reflection in the full-length mirror in front of him.

"Broooo, am I dreaming or what the fuckkkk is going on" he said in disbelief. No more was the cute, pale twink he used to be staring back at him. Instead, a douchey bro he didn't recognize was standing face to face with him. Tanned skin, pillowy muscles, his once blonde hair turned into a brown buzz cut and with that stupid "Who ate all the pussy?" hat slapped over it. He touched his face, feeling along his chin where his once smooth skin now had a rougher texture, and a trashy chinstrap sprouted from his jawline. He slapped his face a few times in his daze, trying to wake up from the dream and growing more confused each time nothing changed.

Turning around and staggering back to his living room to try and make sense of what's going on, it hit him that he barely recognizes the room anymore. His apartment used to be perfectly maintained and well-decorated, now there was beer cans all over the floor, along with dirty socks and cummed-in underwear, greasy pizza boxes and chip bags all over the table and counter, the decorations on his walls had been torn down and replaced with posters of chicks in bikinis and sports teams, his Switch replaced with an X-Box and a stack of COD games next to it, DVD cases of trashy bro-comedies were thrown around near the TV too... Then the smell hit him, it STUNK in here, like a sickening mixture of weed, cheap body spray, and sour BO wafting in a heat around the room. "Bro, it fucking reeks in here... Or wait..." he mumbled as he gave himself a whiff, "I fucking reek!"

After a bit of stunned silence he finally started to process things in his brain again. How the fuck did he get like this, was any of this even real, and how does he get back to normal? He plopped back onto the couch, picking up his phone to see he had a handful of missed texts and calls from his boyfriend before noticing the time... 2:00pm. On Sunday. He had somehow been blacked out for 2 whole nights, with no memory of anything that had happened. While getting ready to call his boyfriend back, Lucas felt his insides rumbling and at first he thought it was from the munchies because of all the weed, but then he realized "Oh bro, all that double-cheese pizza is really gonna fucking..."

*PHRRRBBBTTT!*

His body instinctively lifted its leg as it pushed out the loudest and most obnoxious fart he'd ever ripped in his life, as his body seemed to react on its own, letting out an immature laugh and wafting the air before muttering "Fuck yeah bro, smells like victory!" He leaned back into the couch, remembering he needed to call Alex, but the loud moaning on the TV caught him off guard again. This time he locked eyes with the screen, the cock in his shorts immediately bulging and straining at the sight of the lesbian porn before him. "I really need to turn this shit off and get whatever's going on sorted out..." he thought, but he realized he couldn't move his hand to reach for his phone, instead it reacted on its own, reaching down his waistband to pull out his cock and start stroking for the busty babes on TV.

"All I do is Toke 'n Stroke, bro..." a voice in his head seemed to say, except it didn't come from within, he spoke it directly out of his own mouth.

"Wait, I didn't say that bro, it's-" he tried to talk, realizing that his thoughts echoed around stuck in his own head, not even leaving the lips of his own body. He was just stuck there, watching in a dazed horror as he went on autopilot.

"Toke 'n Stroke bro, I'm such a loyal customer Broski's Buds will HAVE to take me as a hype boy this time haha!" his voice spoke again, continuing to stroke for the porn on TV, Lucas's eyes stuck fixed on the screen. Suddenly though, he was interrupted by his phone vibrating, a text from his boyfriend coming through.

Alex: "Hey cutie, I hope everything is alright? You haven't answered my calls or texts in a couple days, I know it's busy with all your studying but we do still have dinner planned for tonight. Still on for me to pick you up at 5?"

"Oh thank God," Lucas thought, reading the message, "I can tell him what's going on and have him come over to help me fix this shit!" Unlocking his phone, Lucas let out a sigh of relief as he got ready to reply, only for his body to still be taken over by whatever douchey daze it was stuck in.

Lucas: "dont u ever come around me u faggy creep, if me or my bros ever catch u within 100 feet of us we'll give u the beating of a lifetime! fuck around n find out if u dare to show ur face here."

Lucas screamed internally as the message was typed out and sent in front of his very eyes, before his hand moved to block his boyfriend's number and turn his phone off. "Something is seriously fucking wrong with me bro, I need to-"

*PHHRRRRBBBTTTTTT*

Another obnoxious and sickening fart blasted out of his ass, filling the room and breaking Lucas's thoughts down into a daze again, as he felt around under the couch for something before pulling a sweaty, well-used fuck toy of a girls ass and pussy up from the mess.

As Lucas once again locked eyes with the TV, he took another hit from his dwindling blunt stash, finishing up the last one. After throwing what was left onto the floor, he prepared the fuck toy and slid it right down onto his cock, starting to bounce the toy up and down as he edged himself closer to finishing.

"If I can't figure out a way to snap out of this, I'm so fucked..." he thought, as his voice spoke again. "Toke 'n Stroke bro, this chick is soooo getting fucked!" He moaned, as he shot his thick load into the toy, feeling some of his braincells permanently shoot out with it, sloppily wiping the mess on the cushion next to him as he laid back, feeling his insides start to bubble again.

Lucas had a lot of Bro Time to catch up on, but luckily his new favorite weed strain was making sure that he was a captive audience until he was fully converted and assimilated into just another Bro.

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