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#sorry for very short response instead of my usual over-thought ones
tasteleeknow · 8 months
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LIVING IN THE RUINS
minho x fem!reader. 2k words. minors dni. best friends to lovers. soft!minho. angst. fluff. jealousy. emotional hurt/comfort. smut with feelings, in a tent.
“Excuse me?”
You blink at the stranger in front of you. She seems to materialise before your eyes. You’d zoned out again and missed the attention your best friend had clearly been receiving from strangers in the crowded room. “I was wondering if I could get your number?” she asks, eyes fixed on Minho’s. She blinks quickly a few times, her long dark lashes fluttering much like your heart in your chest. 
She hasn’t looked at you once despite your close proximity. You’re so close to the object of her attention in fact, your thigh brushes against Minho’s jeans under the table. 
He shifts beside you, sitting up straighter in the booth. “Oh,” he says, clearly taken off guard as well. “Thank you. I mean that’s — I don’t—” 
“Do you have a girlfriend?” she asks with a small tilt of her head. 
“No,” Minho answers quickly, incapable of lying. His discomfort radiates off him. You’d spent years learning his emotional tells. “I mean—” 
“He’s not into women,” you interrupt, finally drawing her attention to you. She blinks before her eyes drop down to your chest and back to your eyes, like she’s completely taken aback by your presence. It’s impossible, you know that logically. Still, she puts on a good performance. “Sorry,” you add. 
Her lips curve into an unconvincing smile. “No worries,” she says. “The hot ones never are.” 
The whole exchange is as short as it is ordinary. How many tipsy girls work up the courage to ask the pretty man across the bar for his number? You would bet money on it happening multiple times over somewhere across the planet at any given moment. It’s normal. Mundane. Still, you know it’ll chip a little more of your carefully built wall away. A chisel to stone, slow and steady. The only problem is that it’s been chipped at for years. You can feel the fragility of it these days, each chisel etch feels alot like when you’re down to the end of a game of jenga. 
Any move now will cause it to crash and fall. 
She hadn’t considered for a moment you might have been together — not when she’d spotted him across the room, clearly with you — and not when she’d gotten close and blatantly ignored your comfortable proximity to each other. Her question about his relationship status had been an afterthought, a possibility she hadn’t considered until faced with a response other than ‘yes’. She’d been expecting a yes.
The thought that he might be with you, might be attracted to you, was unconsidered. You wonder if she’d discussed it with her friends. ‘No,’ they might have said. ‘There’s no way he’s with her.’
Minho is quiet as the petite brunette turns on her heels and disappears back into the mass of people. His red ears give his embarrassment away. 
You nudge his shoulder, rocking him out of his trance. “Hey,” you prod. “Alright?” 
The smile he offers you is a little lopsided — very Minho. “Always,” he says. 
Your annual camping trip is just like the year before. Your small group of friends sets up camp in your usual spot. Everyone climbs into their usual tents. Everyone assumes you and Minho will be sharing, as always. 
You’re not sure why it hurts so much. They assume that nothing would ever happen between you. None of the other girls share a tent with a guy they aren’t dating. You’re the exception. Because Minho would never want you. 
He notices your low mood later that night. The group separates in the dark to play flashlight tag and as you find yourself wandering a secluded patch of the campsite, you know he knows. His attention is on you instead of where he’s walking. You almost scream when he falls into apparent nothingness. 
“I’m fine,” he quickly reassures you, pulling himself up from the ground. “Just dropped my glasses.” 
“God, you scared me.” 
It takes you both at least ten minutes to find them, relying purely on touch alone. It's too dark to see much at all without a light and using your phones would give your position away. 
You’re grateful for the darkness when you reach up and place his frames gently on his face. It hides the heat in your cheeks when you brush chocolate brown hair behind his ears, ensuring you’ve placed them properly. 
“Thank you,” he whispers, close enough that his breath warms your lips. 
You’re also grateful just to be near him, you realise. Just to know him. You love him. 
You love him. 
It’s an earth shattering realisation to have while playing flashlight tag in the middle of nowhere. You need to escape. You can’t. You’re sharing a tent with him. 
The situation isn’t helped when later in the night one of the girls with big bright eyes and a gentle smile makes a very clear move on him. You were used to it. People loved him. 
You loved him. 
It’s a stupid thing to cause the wall to finally crumble. It’s humiliating really. But when he laughs at something she whispers in his ear: it happens. 
It falls. 
You’re pathetic without it. 
All you can do is hide from him, escape to the tent and pretend to be so tired you’ve fallen asleep before he can investigate. It’s not something you do. Not with Minho. He knows you so well hiding from him is just as stupid as it is pathetic. He’ll know. 
Still, you can pretend. He won’t know as long as you’re unconscious. You can put it off until morning. 
It takes a long time for him to fall asleep. You lie there staring at the canvas of the tent for what feels like hours, the sounds of him tossing and turning continuing for so long you almost give up. 
But then he’s still. His breathing seems to even out. He’s asleep. 
That’s when you let yourself cry. Quietly at first; silent aching sobs. 
What a time for the wall to crumble. You wonder if you have the energy to rebuild. You’ll have to find it. The alternative is letting Minho go entirely, removing him from your life and letting the ruins erode away over a long, long time. 
Not an option. 
“Hey,” Minho’s soft voice calls. Shit. You wipe clumsily at your eyes and sodden cheeks. “Hey, what’s going on? What happened?” he questions as his palm rests gently against your shoulder. 
You should face him. You can’t hide. You know it. 
“No-thing,” you whimper, breath catching between each syllable. It’s that awful breathless kind of sobbing, the type that leaves you unable to inhale fully, let alone speak. 
He rolls you over onto your back. He isn’t rough — but it’s with enough strength you’re completely unable to resist him. 
“What is it?” he says again, tone much more forceful now. He isn’t letting it go. He looks down at you with wide eyes, like he’d never been asleep at all. 
You shake your head. 
His gentle thumbs move to your cheeks to attempt to wipe away the mess you’d left behind. He rests on one arm, leaning over you so he can give each cheek the same treatment. It’s a curious instinct, to wipe away someone's tears — like it has any effect on the person’s pain at all. It’s the best we can often do, you suppose. 
“Just focus on breathing,” he says. “Just breathe.” His hand stays against your cheek, fingers resting on your neck by your ear — featherlight. 
Breathing is easy, in theory. Breathing. Breathing. Breathing. His lips part to join you, guide you. His lips are still a little red from his bedtime routine, his tinted vaseline usually lasting him the entire night. 
“That’s it,” he soothes when you finally manage a few steady breaths in a row. “That’s good. You’re okay.” 
They’re simple words of comfort. The kind of thing anyone would say to a person in distress, but they settle something in your chest. You were okay. He was yours in a way that was more than nothing. He cared in a way that felt so genuine it was hard to be dissatisfied with the nature of it at all. 
“Did something happen today?” he asks, still leaning over you. It’s a vulnerable position to be in. It mirrors how you know this conversation will go. Your wall is a crumbled mess. You have no defences against him. 
“Not really.” 
His eyebrows pull together. 
“Nothing worth this,” you clarify. 
“Tell me.” 
“It’s not… It’s embarrassing.” 
His lips curve in a tiny lopsided smile, just a hint of amusement. “Friends are for sharing embarrassing things with. And I’m your friend,” he says. “Aren’t I?” 
You blink quickly a few times, desperate to keep your tears at bay. Then you nod weakly. 
“Why do you look so miserable about it?” he says, tone light and teasing. 
Your lips wobble a little as you struggle with the words attempting to burst forth. They pound and burn and demand to be set free. You lose the battle. “I love you.” 
He blinks, eyes flicking across your face. 
The gates are open now. You’re turned loose. “I love you so much,” you sob. “It hurts. It hurts everyday and it just keeps getting worse and I can’t—” 
His lips cut you off, a warm, heart-stopping, and very much welcome interruption. He’s kissing you. He’s—
“Stop,” he mumbles against your wet, salty lips. “Stop hurting. Please.” His next kiss is unbearably soft, a brush against your upper lip. “Please,” he whispers. 
You nod dumbly.
He rewards you with a collection of gentle kisses across your cheeks, replacing the remnants of your tears with the sticky wetness of his moisturised lips. You imagine the slight red marks he must leave behind. 
He settles over you properly at some point. You’re too distracted by the path of his lips to notice exactly when. But then his arms are by your head, caging you under him in a way that makes you hope for the universe to halt all progression forward. This was enough; everything. 
“I love you,” he whispers against your lips finally. “I’m… sorry for letting you think I don’t. I’m a coward.” 
“No,” you chastise quickly as you tangle your fingers in his hair. “Don’t say shit like that.” 
“I—” 
“It hurts me… and you told me to stop hurting.” 
His head drops to your neck… then, with a soft press of his lips to your skin, “Then I’ll never do it again.” 
Every move he makes is gentle when the slow, indulgent kisses turn into exploring hands and whispered pleas for more. Each of his whisper-soft words of affection sweeps away a crumbled section of your wall, clearing the space to build something entirely new. He’s warm, so warm as his bare torso rests on yours — as he finally presses inside you and sucks a mark into your neck to join the rest he’s left. “Doesn’t hurt?” he asks, stilling as he fills you completely. 
“No,” you gasp. “No, you’re… it’s—” His lips take the words from your mouth, a little messier than he’s been before. When his hips roll into yours you can’t help grasping at him like he might suddenly get up and leave — fingers tangling in his hair desperately.
“I got you,” he mumbles against your lips, heavy breaths mingling with your own. “I got you…” 
When he eventually spills inside you, flooding you with more of his warmth, you’re crying again. But this time it doesn’t hurt; this time it’s a release. The tears that he kisses from your face afterwards — they wash away the rest of the rubble.
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aibloomie · 1 year
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Hello! I'm a fan of the way you write and I love your blog!
I noticed that requests were open so here I go-
Can you write headcanons on how Scaramouche, Diluc and Cyno would react to their s/o getting flustered and randomly hiding their face onto the characters body (neck, back, etc.)
Sorry if that is a weird request and thank you ♡
HIDING YOUR FLUSTERED SELF ON THEM
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✧ featuring — scaramouche, cyno, and dilic x gn!reader
thank you for the request and for your patience on how long it took for me to write it </3 this was really cute to write and I apologize in advance if cyno is ooc, this was my first time writing for him 
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one of scaramouche’s delights when it came to you was kissing you out of the blue just to make your mind go blank and proceed to then tease you over how easy it is to catch you off guard. it was so fun because not only does he get to feel your lips against his (which he loves way more than he’ll ever admit), but he also gets to see your dazed out expression once he pulls away, seeing that you’re in a mix of wanting more but also trying to remember what you were even doing before he had randomly kissed you.
naturally, you got a little bit fed up with the smugness in his face whenever he saw your flustered expression. you love him with all your heart, but if you saw that smirk one more time then you might just have to dropkick him.
so now, before you could see the amused glint in his eyes when he pulled back, you instead resorted to burying your face into the crook of his neck, which certainly left him the confused and flustered one for a split second. 
of course you couldn't see—but his cheeks blossomed with the prettiest shade of pink, he was taken aback. his hearstrings felt as if they had been tugged ever so gently. how was it even possible for you to be so cute? for you to make him adore you even more than what he thought was feasible?
“what are you-” it takes him a while to realize why you had done that. congrats, because your plan failed and the gesture made the boldness in his chest come back.
“my, my. are you going to do this every time I succeed in teasing you?” scaramouche asks, his voice oozing with gratification. “because if that's the case, I guess my neck will be your new home from now on.”
(he says that now but there will definitely be a time where he gives in and leans his head against yours, tilting his hat down when he feels his cheeks heat up, and he stays in that position with you in comfortable and loving silence)
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cyno, who tried to soothe your stressed out self in the manner he believed to be the best when it came to balancing out the atmosphere in the room. yes, attempting to make you laugh. he sat beside you and looked at you seriously, which almost made you ask if something was the matter but he spoke first.
“your legs must be very tired,"
“wh-”
“because you’ve been running through my head all day.”
being his lover, of course you were accustomed to his habit of trying to lighten up the mood that stemmed from him wanting to be less intimidating. but they usually didn’t come in the form of a pick up line, and it left you momentarily forgetting about what was stressing you out in the first place.
you felt your face heating up as you started laughing before you hid your face against the side of his shoulder. 
“you’re laughing.” cyno noted, a VERY small (but pleased) smile formed on his face. “I guess my humor isn’t as bad as some people make it seem.”
but cyno could feel the heat that was rising on your face as you continued thinking about his gesture. eventually, your shaking body from your laughter came to an end and his interest was piqued. “did I make you laugh so hard you passed out?”
his question came out so matter of factly that it just made you laugh again. “not yet, silly.” your response was short, but he could tell from the way your voice wavered that you were off in la la land. he pieced it together and figured that the contents of his joke must have had an effect on you.
warmth spread through his chest at that new found knowledge. “hm, I’ll have to make more of these jokes in the future." he was surprisingly pleased by your reaction, and waited patiently for you to raise your head so he could catch your flustered state and relish the sight.
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diluc was in bed with you, both of you turned towards each other as you guys talked about anything that came to mind. his hand reached over behind you to soothe your back, his touch along with the softened fiery eyes that stared into yours made fireworks go off in you. you paused midsentence.
he raised a brow, humming to indicate his confusion.
he caught a glimpse of your flustered expression, right before you wrapped your arms around him and buried your face snuggly into his chest. his cheeks flared crimson, and you could tell how he was feeling without even seeing his face because you could hear his now quickened heartbeat. 
“my love, are you alright?” his question came out a little awkwardly as he struggled with thinking of something else to say. he then placed one of his hands behind your head gently, honestly not minding the touch, and he wouldn’t be opposed to staying in that position with you for longer. 
your words came out muffled against his chest, and diluc found himself smiling at the sound and he regained his composure. he didn't make an attempt to pull you back or tease you, not wanting to embarass you in any way. his words were reassuring though, coming out like silk from his mouth.
"we can stay like this for as long as you need to.”
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casdeans-pie · 10 days
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--- "Angel Erogenous Zones" ---
The middle of an Angel's neck, where their Grace can be extracted from - wouldn't that be a vulnerable, sensitive spot?
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It hadn’t been Dean's intention to be kissing Cas against his bedroom door, but as soon as it had slammed shut behind them that’s where they’d ended up.
There had been a desperate mix of gripping and pulling to draw each other in – and then suddenly they were on each other. Dean had both his fists full of trench coat, while Cas's hands had started on his shirt collar and slid up to the back of his head.
Dean had a fuzzy, vague realisation (his blood had far more interesting places to go than his brain) that Cas could be completely immovable if he wanted to be, so the satisfying slam of his back against the door was something that he’d let happen.
God, wasn’t that something.
Dean groaned aloud at that thought and Cas made a high breathy sound in response, like being able to make the other feel good left them in a never ending feedback loop of pleasure.
Their angle changed slightly, their bodies one long tight line of heat, as Dean reluctantly pulled his lips away to desperately breathe some air before he passed out.
Cas tilted his head back, baring the column of his throat, as Dean tasted it with his lips and tongue, while he got his breathing back under control. But Cas flinched violently when his mouth touched the skin below his chin.
“Sorry,” Dean said, freezing immediately. Even he could hear how wrecked and rough he sounded. He pulled back and searched Cas’s face – was he making sure he was okay, or looking for signs of regret?
Dean couldn’t help it when he placed a gentle hand on Cas’s cheek and wiped a thumb gently under his eye. They were both shining brightly with an inner light that seemed to swirl through what Dean could see of his irises (though they were mostly dilated pupil). He wanted to feel smug at the effect he’d had, but concern at the flinch he’d definitely felt overrode everything else.
Cas shook his head slightly and let out a long, shaky breath. “No, I’m sorry, Dean. I didn’t think I would react like that.”
“I- uh- I mean, I get it man, this is uh- kinda new territory for us and-” Dean tensed and went to move away, but Cas held him close.
“No, please... Please don’t think it was a reaction to this. To us. There’s a scar,” Cas explained, voice even lower than usual, “from when my Grace was removed and I became human. It never healed.”
Dean felt his whole body relax again in relief and he pressed in closer, just barely resisting the urge to kiss Cas again, to catch sight of the thin white scar straight across his throat. The lowlight of the bedroom caught the edge of the raised line, making it stand out slightly, and Dean felt a deep pang of sympathy. The hand he’d left still resting on Cas’s cheek slid down to his neck and touched the very edge of it carefully.
“Does it hurt?”
“N-No,” Cas said, his breathing speeding up as his eyes slid closed. Blue light escaped from between his eyelashes.
Dean blinked in surprise. Wait...
“Sensitive,” Cas added, “sensitive place for ah-angels.”
Oh.
Dean had slid a finger over the scar gently while Cas had been talking and now he understood his reaction before.
“Sensitive, huh,” Dean repeated.
The moment that his mouth touched the scar he heard Cas gasp.
He paused, giving Cas the opportunity to tell him to stop, but instead a hand returned to the back of his head and fingers dug deep into his short hair. Dean smiled, knowing Cas would be able to feel it, and added a gentle mouthing of teeth. Cas made a noise in the back of his throat that shot a bolt of want down Dean’s spine.
He bit down harder.
A hand slammed over Dean’s eyes that shielded him from a blindingly bright blue light bursting out into the room.
Dean laughed, his chest full of warmth, as he crushed their bodies even closer together to hide his face in Cas’s shoulder.
“Oh, Angel,” Dean whispered, as a tingling electricity accompanied the light and seemed to slide over and under his skin. He had the strangest thought that it felt like silky feathers.
The light finally faded and Cas thumped his head back against the door.
“So, turns out, angel erogenous zones are a thing,” Dean said, his voice rumbling deeply with affection and warmth.
“I’ll teach you mine if you teach me yours,” Cas said breathlessly.
“I can work with that.”
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princessbrunette · 5 months
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kitty!reader is feisty, so naturally — jj is always coming up with creative ways to keep her in check.
the first time he did it, it was played off as a joke. just jj being silly. nothing new. you were bickering, getting in your man’s face merely out of bored and irritation — something he was all too used to.
“stop being mean.” you hiss, narrowing your eyes up at him making him jab you at your waist before yanking you closer.
“oh i’m mean? for not lettin’ you play with my dick in public, i’m mean.” he deadpans, raising his eyebrows like he was accepting the challenge.
“yes. you’re rejecting me! i’ll bite you.” you threaten, raising an eyebrow.
“first of all — no the hell i’m not. second of all — go for it, knock yourself out. it don’t bother me, sweetcheeks.” he shrugs making you glare harder up at him like you’d be able to make him explode with just your eyes. “aw now i’m really scared.” he dramatises, rolling his eyes.
“you want scary? okay how’s this — next time you fuck me m’gonna keep riding it and riding it and not let you pull out so you knock me up.” you stand on the toes of your shiny black mary-janes, getting all in his face ‘til he was pushing your jaw away with a gentle hand and a smirk.
“then you better take that plan b and stop playing with me.” you feel the threat in his voice, very vaguely. like — he was subtly jabbing you not to say things like that if you don’t mean it.
“and if i don’t?” you pur, sharp nails digging into his shoulders making his eyes flutter as he tries to ignore it.
“oh? well — i’ll have’ta just —” he reaches round you and you think he’s going to give you a hard swat on your ass, but instead, his hands dive right down the back of your skirt, grabbing a fist of your cotton underwear and yanking them up— the sound of the fabric stretching to a near tear. you gasp, falling into his chest and erupting into giggles.
“jay! let go, stop!” you squeal and surprisingly he does, dropping the material with a smirk leaving it hanging out the back of your waistband stupidly. he gives your ass a tap before stepping away.
“yeah, s’what you get for messin’ with papa J— remember that. i got new antics now.”
you don’t take it much to heart, so you’re blindsided the next time it happens. it becomes a habit of his, one slither of an attitude and he’s fisting at whatever underwear you got on and yanking it up so hard it hurts, nearly lifting your damn feet off the ground. “what was that? huh? say sorry. go ‘head. say it.” he’ll chant in your ear, like some kind of high school bully in an 80s movie robbing you of your lunch money. it starts to become less funny very quickly, and more of a way to humiliate you — especially when he threatens to do it infront of the pogues. you bite out a response just a little too irritably and the hand that was resting on your lower back will slither down the back of your shorts, twisting his finger round the black lace of your panties.
“hm? repeat that real quick?” he’ll taunt just for you to hear and you’ll immediately shrink, shaking your head.
but much like any other punishment, you eventually find a way to enjoy it — rendering it useless to the blonde as he’d thought he’d finally found a way to keep you on a tighter leash. it’s one night in your bedroom that you’re rolling around with him play fighting on your bedroom floor when you just take it that little bit too far, sinking your teeth hard into his arm to get the upper hand.
“ah—” he immediately disarms you with a sharp slap on the cheek, disorientating you as you groan and fall onto your back on the floor, the fluffy rug tickling your arm as you rub at your cheek. he hovers over you. “awww, what? did that hurt?” he coo’s unsympathetically. “already told you mama, i only play nice if you do.” he dusts his hands off as you pout before he’s eyeing you, sprung with his usual ideas. “matter’a’fact…”
suddenly he’s flipping you to lay on your front making you squirm as you realise what’s coming. straddling the back of your legs, he flips up your skirt and uses two hands to pull your baby pink panties up your back making you wince and mewl.
“ow! stop it!” you complain as he smirks, tongue parked sadistically in the corner of his mouth.
“nuh-uh babydoll. you asked for it.”
you find a way to roll onto your front beneath him as he still hovers above your knees, lots of fighting spirit left in him as you grin up at him victoriously. however, he finds a way to wipe that smile off your face fast when he grips the front of your panties — barely noting the pretty cursive ‘Kitten’ scrawled across the front as he yanks it up the same way he’d usually do to the back.
his own evil grin falters when he looks up to see your expression, jaw dropped and brows knitted at the sensation. it was different, the fabric forced to slide right up against your clit. your hips twitch and knees fall open.
“wow— seriously? this shits doin’ it for you?” he’s amused, giving the panties a couple more rough tugs upwards making you squeak.
“jayj— qu—quit it…” you try to shift, but any wriggling of your hips only makes it worse as your boyfriend has you pinned, continuing to pull up and down.
“i know you’re not tellin’ me what to do, kittycat.” he ticks his head with faux disapproval, not seeming to want to stop any time soon. your breath hitches in your throat and your socked feet kick out.
“jj— really y—you have to— s’gonna… m’gonna—”
he laughs and it’s mean, leaning forward a little as he continues with his repetitive ministrations.
“yeah? can’t get those words out now, huh? shit babe, only you could cum in your pretty little panties just from being bullied.”
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chishiyaisasnack · 10 months
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It’s under my skirt, Doctor
Hello everyone! It’s been a while. I finally got this little thing together, and I hope you all like it.
Disclaimer! This is smut. Stay away if you aren’t of agw or if you’re uncomfortable with the topic. Remember to use protection in real life!
Written and posted on mobile, I apologize for any wierd formatting.
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Chishiyas life was work. Long hours, sometimes so long that he didn’t leave the hospital before his next shift. The couch in his office had become soft from where he slept, countless days and nights spent there alone. Not that it mattered, not to him. He liked his job. Kind of. There was nothing else he wanted to do anyway, so filling his life with something that kept his brain occupied and evolving was good enough. Once he stopped caring about all the injustice he focused solely on performing surgeries. The heart was an interresting thing, so small, so powerful. One wrong move and a life could end. Sometimes he wondered what that would feel like. He would never play with a life like that, he wasn’t completely insane, but the thought had showed up once or twice.
This particular shift got his mood turning all over the place. Everyone was whiny, rude and just hard to deal with. Twelve hours of pretending to be respectful was hard enough on the good days.
When he got back to his office he sank down into the couch, contemplating buying new cushions soon because they were starting to get uncomfortable. He needed to get his mind cleared out, to stop thinking about work and kids and parents who he wanted to toss in the trashcan.
A vibration went off in his pocket, making his head hurt just thinking about what they would need him for now. He just wanted to rest. So, when he picked it up and saw the notification on his screen he got pleasently suprised.
Y/N: Hey, sorry to disturb your work but I have a medical issue that I wondered if you could take a look at? I can come over in 10 minutes if that works for you.
He couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. Normal people didn’t use the words ”medical issue” as a synonym for ”I want to fuck” but it worked very well for the two of them. Chishiya had met her at a work gathering and that turned out to be the best stress reliever he could wish for, and he knew that she used him for that exact same reason. Some might say that they were dating, but the only times they really met in person was just for sex and maybe some lunch afterwards. Chishiya did spend occasional nights at her place since she lived closer to the hospital than he did, and getting his dick wet then sleep in a bed instead of his office couch was a nice change.
Ten minutes later the telltale three knocks on his office door woke him up from his thoughts. Trying not to run to the door in excitement, he stood up, took a deep breath and changed into his normal ’I don’t care about anything’-face before opening it. The ’not caring about anything’-face changed as soon as he saw what was on the other end of the doorframe. He was not prepared for her standing there, panties hanging from slender fingers on one of her hands and her head cocked to the side. The skirt she was wearing was short and flowy, almost revealing what was, or rather what wasn’t underneath it.
”Eager are we?” Chishiya welcomed her in a smug voice, trying to hide the mess his head was already in. She winked at him in response.
”You usually don’t have very long so I thought I’d be prepared.” She walked straight to him, put the underwear in the chest pocket of his white doctors coat and kicked the door closed behind her. Chishiya could hear the click from the lock but was more interrested in the cleavage that her ”too tight to be comfortable”-top was showing. He didn’t even try to hide that he liked what he saw. He knew she liked it. A finger under his chin woke him up from his thoughts and when he looked up he was met with sparkling eyes full of excitement when she gazed back into his.
”Hmm.. I like how professional you look in this outfit” she purred as she smoothed her hands up his chest until she reached his neck, hands tangling in the blonde strands in the back until his hair tie fell to the floor, one thumb tracing his ear. ”I’d let you examine me any day.”
Chishiya rolled his eyes at her attempt at flirting, but rather than giving her a comeback he reached in and put his hands on her bare thighs, inching further up while he kissed that lovely space between her neck and shoulder that made her whimper every time.
”So, what did you want me to take a look at?” Chishiya murmered teasingly into her ear. She hummed and moved her hands back down to his shoulders, gripping onto the neck of his coat.
”It’s under my skirt, Doctor.”
In one swift move she grabbed the stethoscope still hanging around his neck and pulled him with her until they both hit the wall behind her, before crashing her lips into his with urgency, and Chishiya returned it with just as much desire as he was given. It was intoxicating, her soft lips, the sweet smell of her perfume, her hands tugging at his hair trying to coax him closer.
His hands went from her thighs to her waist, with just a quick squeeze at her ass first, clenching his fingers in the fabric of her shirt, pulling her even closer so that she could feel that this was affecting him too. His cock was already getting hard, pushing uncomfortably against his pants, but her soft stomach gave great friction whenever she moaned and rubbed herself against him.
Trying to deepen the kiss, she slid her tounge against his lips, making him smile against her whine when he didn’t answer her attempt. He was the one calling the shots and he wanted her to remember that. Instead of giving her what she wanted he pried his lips away from hers and targeted her neck.
The sweet sounds she made whenever his lips caressed her made his head spin. He couldn’t keep his hands still any longer and torturously slow started to inch them up the skin under her top, feeling the way she moved under them, how she was shivering against his touch and how her lungs moved with every heated breath that left her. He knew that undressing her probably wasn’t the best idea in case someone managed to interrupt them, but when he felt her breast under his palms, so soft and squeazable and utterly wonderful to nibble at, his desire to put his face between them took over his rationality. So, after he sucked down on the skin on her shoulder - and grinned at the sour moan she made - he pulled her top off and started his descent down her body. Somewhere in the back of his mind he heard the thump that her head made when she threw it back against the wall but he was far more interrested in the goosebumps that spread under the line he licked down her collarbone. When he finally moved his mouth over her nipple he felt a hand grip his shoulder with a strenght that was sure to leave a mark.
The noises she made went straight to Chishiyas cock. His mind was so clouded by the need to be inside her that he was having trouble keeping his teasing facade in check. Nestling his face in her chest did ground him a bit though, it was the whines that followed it that made him throb in his pants.
”Fuck, Chishiya… lower please” she begged, shivering when he swept his tounge over her other nipple. The gentle squeeze from his other hand earned him another whimper - and a fist in his hair trying to push him further down. He complied with a quiet laugh, loving how aroused she was from just this. Not that he had anything to say about that, he was aching just as bad as she was.
He didn’t bother to take her skirt off, he just held it up with one hand while running the other up her inner thigh, slow and steady so that he could hear her quiet complaints that he took too long.
”Hold it” he commanded, looking at her and then the skirt, nodding towards it to make his point. A shaky hand took a hold of the hem of the skirt and he shifted his focus back to her soft thighs, leading up to her glistening center that he couldn’t wait to be inside. He couldn’t help himself and squeezed the inside of her thigh, thinking about how great it would feel to have them wrapped around him - then laughed at her impatient grunt before giving in and giving her what she asked for.
With one hand he hiked her leg over his shoulder and then he dove in and let his tounge spread her open, loving the wetness he was met with. A cascade of ’yes’-es fell from her mouth as she rolled her hips in time with his tounges movements. A long lick between the folds, flicking over the clit, sucking, kissing, circling… he knew exactly what she liked and he gave it to her. Every time her moans got a little louder he slowed down, dragging out the sensation (and pissing her off just a little just because he could). It was his favourite leisure activity and he could go for hours if he had the time. Unfortunately he didn’t and with a last lick he stopped, her disappointed groan chiming like music in his ears.
He rose to his feet, one hand still lingering on her thigh, the other moving a strand of hair from her face that was so lovely and flushed from desire. There was a hint of irritation from the way her eyebrows scrunched together, but it disappeared when he used the same hand that he just caressed her cheek with to draw a line along her pussy, wet and warm, and so inviting, making her squirm under his touch.
”I want to take my time with you but we’re in a bit of a hurry,” he reminded her. ”Come here.”
Chishiya started walking towards the couch, sat down and patted his lap as an invitation for her to sit.
”I’m tired and have been working all day,” Chishiya playfully told her, watching her eyes roll as she walked towards him, which made him chuckle. He enjoyed how obvious she was with everything and that she didn’t take any of his shit. She was strong and powerful and he wouldn’t have a chance against her wits if she wanted to ruin him. And he didn’t want it any other way.
”You need a new couch” she complained while straddling his lap, knees sinking down too far and throwing off her balance before she put her hands on his shoulder and shuffled her way forward to hover over his length.
”But I really like my couch” he lied, lazily putting his hands on her waist to pretend to help her.
”Sure you do. Take off your pants, or are you too tired to do that to, Doctor?”
For once he hurried, mostly because his dick was aching and he couldn’t wait for it to be inside her. So he moved his pants and boxers out of the way, enough to release his cock. She didn’t waste a second and sank down onto it right away.
Both of them moaned, her from finally being filled and him from finally being hugged by her warm, wet walls. When she started to move, riding him nice and deep, he couldn’t help himself and let his head fall back so he could watch her face as she fucked herself on him.
”Fuck, I’ve been needing this” he groaned as she took him in, Chishiya pushing as far in as he could to savour that warm and tight feeling that her insides gave him. ”You feel so good.”
”Fuck…” was the only answer he got, but it sounded perfect. Breathless and broken, turning into another moan when his cock hit her sweet spot again.
She rode him deep and fast, her wet walls stroking his cock in rhythm with her movements. Desperate to feel more of it, he bucked up into her to bury himself as deep as he could. Her hands was on his shoulders, nails digging deep into his white coat.
Chishiyas hands were everywhere, grabbing her ass hard as she bounced on his lap, sliding up her waist when he went back to rolling her hips, cupping her breasts when he took over and fucked her from below. The bliss on her face drove him on, making him thrust harder and angling his hips so that he hit that spongy spot inside her with every thrust. He could feel her getting close, her insides tightening and clamping down around his cock, stroking the life out of him with it. He wouldn’t last much longer either - he needed her to come so that he could join her. So he slid a hand down to her center, putting two fingers on her clit and started to circle it in time with his thrusts. The loud groan she let out at the sensation made the fire in his stomach grow even more and, fuck, he needed her to orgasm.
”Y/N, come for me,” he hissed and pressed down harder on her clit. ”Fuck, come on my cock.”
And so she did. With a rough moan into his neck he felt her walls clamping down on his cock, so fucking tight, before convulsing around him. Maybe he should have stopped and let her catch her breath but his hips moved at their own will now. He fucked her with desperation, each thrust bringing him closer, until he emptied himself deep inside her. She moaned as he did, rocking her hips to stimulate him more until his cock had stopped twitching.
Chishiyas hands landed on her waist again, this time drawing soft circles on her skin, making her shiver under his touch. Her breath was warm against his neck when she nuzzled her face there. He let her rest on him, he was too satisfied to move anyway. They sat like that until both their breathing had calmed down, and until he had gone soft enough to slip out of - although he didn’t want to. She felt too good. But even he wasn’t able to control his body that much. He had tried.
When she moved it was with shaky legs, tired from overworking them on that dumb couch. He smirked as he helped her up onto her feet, casting a glance on the clock hanging on the wall above his desk. There were still time to have some more fun, and even if his dick was tired, his tounge wasn’t. Standing up next to her he bent in, moved a strand of her hair away from her face, and softly spoke into her ear.
”So, is there anything else you want me to examine?”
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bosbas · 10 months
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Chapter 8: no one wanted to play with me as a little kid
series masterlist previous part || next part
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pairing: benedict bridgerton x best friend!fem!reader WC: 3.4k words
Warnings: period-typical gender roles, idiots in love being idiots in love (sort of. it's like pre idiots in love. on the cusp of idiots in love), fluff (so much fluff)
Summary: You and Benedict have been best friends since childhood, but things change dramatically once you come out in society. You’re struggling to find someone you’re as compatible with and who knows you as well as Benedict, all while trying to quell your ever-growing feelings for him. Shenanigans ensue.
A/N: you know what. let's pretend all of the ages/years make sense. kisses to all of you!
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December 4, 1809 - Dearest, loveliest, most wonderful Y/I (your initial),
I am so sorry I have not written in almost two weeks, though I did enjoy the very strongly worded letter you sent me reminding me of this fact and demanding a response. I wish I had a better excuse, but truthfully, this term has just been hectic. But to answer the question you so politely asked: yes, I will be home in time for Christmas, and I will be staying for New Year's and your birthday (your birthday is not even two weeks after Christmas, darling, give me some credit!). Though I rather think you owe me a present instead of the other way around after calling me an oblivious toad.
As an apology for my silence, I've attached my reading list for the courses I am taking at Oxford this term so you can also read them. I am sure you will be able to find them in your library but do let my mother know if you cannot find them. We should also have copies in our library. I will be heading back to Aubrey Hall in ten days to see the lot of you, and I will eagerly be awaiting all of your thoughts on this term's reading.
Yours, B
You couldn't help the excited gasp that left your lips as soon as you were finished reading Benedict's letter. You hadn't even managed to leave your entryway before you hastily opened the envelope addressed to you, blurting out a thank you to your slightly startled butler, who had been taken aback by your eager rifling of the mail. 
Now that Benedict was at Oxford, you barely got to see him at all, so you were more than a little excited when you read that you would only have to wait ten more days to see him. The three weeks he was home for the winter holiday were the bulk of your in-person interactions with him for the year, as had been the norm for the past three years he had been at university. 
It wasn't all bad, though. Proof of that lay in a box in your bedroom filled with every single letter or note you had received from Benedict while he was away at Oxford. Even the short ones, when he was studying for an exam and barely had time to write a coherent response, had found a place inside your box. You supposed the box contained most of your friendship with Ben over the past three years, neatly organized by date from oldest to newest and separated by term. 
Sometimes, you found yourself missing Benedict more than usual, and you would read through your favorite of his letters. Often, it ended up being the shortest notes that were the sweetest and ones you would read over and over. Even years after he had sent the letters, you found comfort in his messy scrawl after an afternoon playing Pall Mall without Benedict and his typical banter. But once you saw him at Aubrey Hall every December, it would be like no time had passed at all. You kept him up to date on everything happening at home with your family and his, and he told you wild stories from his time at Oxford. 
And although you enjoyed hearing about his life, it was also bittersweet. You were so jealous of him, wishing more than anything that you could go to university, too. But alas, the pesky issue of your gender prevented you from furthering your education. You got as close as you could, though. Benedict would send you all of his readings every term, and you enjoyed discussing the books you read at length when he returned for the holiday season. 
This is not to say that your conversations about literature and art were limited to your in-person time. In fact, most of your correspondence was about the books you were reading or the galleries you had gone to. Ben could spend pages and pages talking about a particular part of a painting, the way the artist had captured the way light filtered through the trees. And you loved every bit of it, engaging in your usual discussions. In a way, if you ignored how much you missed him, it was lovely to have a physical representation of your friendship. 
However, you would soon stop being constrained to receiving correspondence from Ben every few days, and you could simply knock on his door if you were particularly interested in talking about an aspect of your book. Your time at Aubrey Hall had become your favorite time of year, three weeks of daily interactions with your best friend being the absolute best birthday present you could've ever asked for. 
But this year was different. This was the last time you would have to say goodbye at the end of the holidays, seeing as Benedict was graduating in the spring and returning from Oxford permanently. To say you were over the moon was an understatement. You could barely wait to spend hours in his studio watching him paint again or reading aloud to him under the shade of the tree in your backyard on particularly warm days. 
---
August 12, 1799 - Y/I, I thought you would like this one. Yours, B
Bypassing Alex and Anthony having a heated debate about who was better at billiards, Benedict headed straight in your direction across the garden, ignoring Daphne, Colin, Theo, and Bastian, who had been playing some team game that devolved into an argument. Benedict patted your head as he came by to sit beside you on the grass, momentarily drawing your attention away from the massive book on your lap.
Grabbing the book from your lap and transferring it to his own, he asked, "So, what do you think?"
You let out an excited squeal, shaking Benedict's nearest arm with both hands. "It's amazing, Ben! An entire book about flowers, who knew? I've spent hours looking at it already, and I'm not even halfway through! It's got so much information I could die. It's incredible. Thank you so much." Though it was left unsaid, Ben knew these were hours you would have otherwise spent alone. The twins were especially adamant about not having you play with them, and Alex and Anthony were too caught up in their never-ending competitions to pay any attention to you. With your mother and his being occupied with the toddlers, Francesca, Cass, and Eloise, who had only just begun to walk and talk, you and Ben were truly the only odd ones out. But it was no bother to him. He loved when you read aloud to him, and you would happily listen to him talk about his sketches for hours on end, something he could not say about any other member of the Bridgerton-Beaumont cohort. 
Ben could only laugh fondly at your excitement, internally very proud that he had found a book you really enjoyed. "It's called an encyclopedia. There are loads of them about just about anything and everything in the world," he told you, leafing through the book himself. Gently pushing the book back in your direction, he prodded, "Well, go on then. Show me your favorite flowers so far." 
Grabbing the book, you hastily turned the pages until you reached the flowers, starting with the letter 'd.' Standing up, you rushed to the nearest corner of the garden and dug around for a few seconds, coming back with a bunch of small white flowers clutched in your small hands. 
Ben let out a short laugh, but you quickly shushed him, whining, "Stop it! It'll make sense in a second, I promise."
"I didn't say anything!" responded Ben defensively, putting his hands up in the air but unable to conceal the smile you had elicited from him. 
"Okay. Look at the page. The daisies. They're also called Bellis perennis, but that's in Latin. We have them here in the garden! Isn't that lovely?" you said excitedly, placing the flowers beside Ben.
"Oh, that is quite nice, Y/N," he responded, picking one of the daisies up and placing it behind your ear, eliciting a bright smile from you. "Did you know that a Violet is a type of flower? And so is a Primrose."
"You mean both our mums have flower names? That's so fun. I wish everyone could have a flower name," you responded, excited to have learned new information. 
"You could always give your daughters flower names," Ben suggested, enjoying the pure joy you were getting out of this.
"Well, before I have daughters, I would have to get married. And I don't want to do that! I just want to keep reading books. I want to read every single encyclopedia in the world!" you exclaimed, reaching your arms as high as they could go. 
Ben laughed, highly amused by your antics. "Just like me, then. Except instead of reading it's painting," he responded as he laid down fully on the grass, looking up at the sky and feeling particularly thankful that someone understood how he felt. On the other hand, you took the opportunity to dump all of the flowers you had picked onto his torso, arranging and rearranging them into different designs. He could only laugh, not at all bothered that his shirt would surely be dirty now, just happy to watch you enjoy yourself. 
After a few minutes of comfortable silence, you spoke up as you tried unsuccessfully to stack the flowers on top of each other. "That's perfect, then. We can get married, I can read, and you can paint, and we can have a daughter and give her a flower name."
"That sounds wonderful! I'm glad that's sorted," he laughed, lifting his head to find you flashing a toothy grin. "D'you like the name Daisy for our daughter, then?"
"That's lovely! And you can paint her a painting of a daisy for her room!" you responded eagerly. Benedict hummed in assent, busy imagining the dynamics of a blissful imaginary marriage. 
---
January 3, 1810 - Y/I, Happiest of birthdays, darling. Come downstairs, where I have a proper gift and card waiting for you. Yours, B
As you came downstairs, you already feared the fate that awaited you. Every year, your birthday would begin with a very extreme and frankly excessive snowball fight involving all the Bridgerton-Beaumont children. You could trust no one. Alliances would easily crumble under pressure, and people were just as likely to betray their siblings as they would someone from the other family. You and Benedict, ordinarily inseparable, could become sworn enemies in the span of two snowballs. You couldn't even trust sweet Hyacinth, only seven years old, to be loyal to any team, seeing as she was an outstanding double agent, a lesson you had all learned the hard way. It was absolute chaos, and you loved every second of it. It didn't matter how old you were; this was always the best part of your birthday.
As soon as you stepped outside, a snowball the size of your fist hit your right shoulder. Slowly turning toward the perpetrator, you narrowed your eyes once you saw it was Gregory, who had helped you defeat Bastian and Francesca in one fell swoop last year. Clearly, that alliance was gone, and you would have to find someone else to rely on this year. 
Since it was your birthday, the fight officially started when you threw the first snowball, and this year, you chose to throw it at Cassandra, your own sister, who had annoyed you at dinner yesterday by incessantly flinging peas at you. Once the tightly packed ball left your hand, all hell broke loose. You were hit in the stomach and leg simultaneously as you fired snowballs in every direction you could, laughing as you did. 
You briefly ducked behind a tree trunk, needing a moment to breathe. You took advantage of the fact that you weren't a target to form a massive snowball. You carefully stepped away from behind the trunk, checking that the coast was clear. Without a second thought, you flung the snowball as hard as you could in the direction of the person closest to you. 
Unfortunately, it hit Benedict straight in the face, blinding him for a few moments. Your mouth hung open, trying not to laugh because you knew you had packed quite a bit of force into your throw. You ran to Ben's side, apologizing as much as possible without bursting into laughter. He cleared the snow from his eyes and turned to you slowly, an evil grin forming on his face. 
"I believe you have just declared war, Miss Beaumont," he said finally. 
You screamed and ran in the opposite direction, knowing he would be absolutely merciless. You couldn't even look back, not wanting to slow down. After a few seconds of frantic sprinting, you felt Ben tackling you onto a massive pile of snow. Both of you were laughing hysterically while trying to catch your breath. He turned you over so you were lying down side by side, both of you panting heavily, looking up at the winter sky. 
"I miss you," you said finally, turning your head toward him, only to find that he was already looking at you. He pulled you closer, wrapping both arms around you tightly before he helped you up and brushed the snow off of your coat. 
"I know. I miss you, too. But it'll only be like this for a short while longer, and then you can come round every day and read to me while I paint, yeah?" he said, lifting your chin to look at him. 
Your breath caught in your throat, and you felt your heartbeat quicken, his brown eyes not letting yours go. Your eyes flickered to his mouth briefly, your lips parting slightly. Looking back at his eyes, you saw something flash in them that you couldn't quite parse, an expression you hadn't seen before. Finally, you nodded, letting him pull you into him and kiss your forehead, enjoying the warmth and comfort you felt as you were wrapped tightly in his arms.
---
September 17, 1805 - Y/I, I can't believe you had a book about the exact artist I was talking about! I'll pop by yours later to say a proper thank you. Yours, B
Benedict walked into your sitting room, sprawling on the couch before you with his arm behind his head, silently waiting for you to look up from your book. But you had just gotten to an exciting part, and your eyes remained glued to the page, ignoring your best friend's attempt to get your attention. 
You heard him huff and muttered a soft "Just a second, Ben" as your eyes raced across the page, eager to know what happened next. In response, he slid further down the couch and crossed his arms, eliciting a laugh from you and finally drawing you away from your book. 
"You were barely waiting ten seconds, Benedict!" you exclaimed, secretly pleased he was so eager to see you. He was leaving for Oxford in a few weeks, and although you were trying not to think about the reality of him going, you were acutely aware that you would soon be unable to see him every day.
He rolled his eyes good-naturedly, responding with a teasing, "It felt like ten years!" 
In recent months, the two of you had become inseparable. Your days were spent reading next to him as he painted, listening to him talk about his most recent artworks, or going for nature walks if you found yourself in Aubrey Hall. Anything to keep him close by before he left for Oxford, you reasoned. Though you couldn't help the growing affection, you were feeling, finding it impossible to look away when he tousled his hair just so and being a bit too pleased every time he complimented you. Every handsome smile or cheeky wink he sent your way lit you up inside, melting your heart just a little bit.
The problem was, and of course, there was a problem, that Benedict was always like this. Nothing about his demeanor had changed; your friendship was still the same as it had always been. Except now you found yourself spending a little too much time in the mornings making sure your hair looked good in case he popped by unannounced. Regardless, you knew Ben did not reciprocate your affections, so you tried to ignore these feelings as best as you could, folding them up very small and tucking them neatly in the corner of your heart for later examination.
Now, you found yourself on a couch against a wall of Benedict's studio, reading Romeo and Juliet as he was quietly sketching. This was quite possibly your favorite thing to do. Spend quiet afternoons together, reading and painting, enjoying each other's company. You took a moment to look at him as he scrunched his nose, unhappy with a certain aspect of the sketch. 
He sighed and looked up at you, nodding toward your book. "What has Shakespeare got to say today?"
"That marriage is a death sentence," you replied, voice deadpan. 
Ben burst into laughter. "Oh, come off it. It can't be that bad in real life. That's only a play! Besides, you've still got a while before you have to think about that," he tried to reason with you.
"Well, maybe. But it just sounds so unappealing. I want to do this. What we're doing now. I want to keep doing it. I don't want to be a wife! I just want to read and study," you argued. 
Benedict stood up, coming to sit beside you and placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "I know, darling. I'm sorry," but he knew you had more to say.
You groaned, pushing your forehead into his shoulder. "I just don't think I'll ever be happy if I'm forced to marry. And I most likely will be, knowing my mother. She'd rather die than have one of her daughters turn into a spinster," you huffed, missing the sympathetic look you got from Ben. "And who will my husband be? A clueless man with no interest in me beyond my ability to be a good wife? I cannot imagine a worse fate."
---
May 8, 1810 - Y/I, I'll keep this one short, seeing how I'll be properly back in a few days! I've been quite busy with graduation, but I'm excited to come home. Yours, B
You smiled as you placed the last letter you had received from Benedict back in your box. The collection was complete. Three years of correspondence between the two of you finally come to an end. You carefully closed the box and returned downstairs, where a big family gathering was occurring in the garden. 
As soon as you stepped outside, Ben was at your side, chatting your ear off about one thing or another. He had barely left you alone since he had been back, granting you only a few minutes to yourself, but you couldn't complain. You wrapped an arm around his torso as you walked back to the garden table. 
"Oh, you look so darling!" cried Violet, cooing at the two of you. 
"You're proper adults now! Both of you! How the time has passed," your mother added, reaching out to hold Violet's hand. 
Benedict could only smile, too happy to be back at your side to focus on anything else. He had missed you loads while he was at Oxford, but having your arm around him now, he realized just how much he needed you. Ben placed a soft kiss on the top of your head, unable to help himself as you sat down at the table. He sat right next to you, taking one of your hands into his own so he could play with your fingers as you chatted with Primrose and Violet. 
Oxford had been a riot, to be sure, but he was so glad to come home to you.
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Blind Offer 1
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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon, manipulation, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: After a leak causes you to evacuate your apartment, your landlord offers a vacant unit that's too good to be true. (short!plus!reader)
Character: Steve Rogers, additional characters to come
Note: Loooooook. I was gonna restrain myself but this all just got outta hand. This is one of my Corrupt-A-Wish requests but I won't reveal which one right away because it'll be part of the plot!
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me &lt;3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)
Love you like I love turning intended one shots into series. Take care. 💖
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You keep your slippers just away from the edge of the puddle. The sheet of water extends almost completely across the kitchen. You hug yourself, still slightly groggy from your early and rude awakening. The washing you put in last night hadn’t finished and instead the sudsy mess had leaked out around the door.
There’s a sigh and a clank as your landlord pulls his arm out of the machine. Your sopping laundry is in a bucket by his feet. His shirt is visibly wet from his struggle to stem the steady flow dripping from the brim of the washer door. You worry you may have overloaded the compact stacking unit.
“I’m sorry, Steve,” you say as you sway guiltily.
“Don’t be,” he puts his hands on his hips and blows out. A golden strand dangles down his forehead, “it’s not you. My own fault. I thought these things might hold out for a while…”
“Oh?”
“Not the first time I’ve had to fight the beast but it worked. I should be sorry, I should’ve just replaced it.”
“Well, uh, what are you gonna do now?” You look at the wet tile, the scent of laundry detergent thick in the air as the water creeps closer to your slippers.
“Uh, yeah, well, obviously you can’t stay here.”
“I can’t?” You raise your head, running your hand up the front of your robe and clutching the fluffy fabric.
“No, bylaws say you need to evacuate until I can get a new unit in here. And clean up. Leak like this can leave mildew and mold,” he combs his large hand over his head, “I feel bad enough, I couldn’t let you live in this.”
“Okay… um, I have to work in a couple hours–”
“Oh, geez. Well, er, maybe just pack up a few things and I can take you over to the new place? You can always come back to grab more if you need.”
“I guess…” you chew your lip. His blue eyes fixate on the gesture so you stop. “How far is it?”
“Not very, about twenty minutes east by car.”
“East?” You utter dully, “that’s a bit far. I work up near the metro area.”
“There’s some bus stops that way but I could give you a lift tod–” There’s a sudden gush and he looks back to the machine, a bubble of water flowing up over the brim. He shuts the door, stemming much of it. “You won’t even be able to cook in here,” he says, “look, bylaws say I have to relocate you. I have a property free which means I don’t have to splurge for a hotel. If you prefer somewhere closer, then it’s on you.”
You frown. He’s not the worst landlord you’ve had but he definitely talks like one. He’s only really worried about his liability. Yet, most others wouldn’t have even brought up that clause and left you to wallow in this puddle of dirty laundry water. You shrug, hopefully the other place isn’t too bad.
“Right, uh, I guess I’ll go get dressed,” you relent.
“Great,” he says with blatant exasperation, turning back to face the trembling washer, his voice deflating to a hoarse rasp, “goddamn.”
You hesitate as you stare at his back. The gray fabric of his jersey henley strains across his shoulder blades as the back of his forearms clench, veins pulsing out. He rolls his head on his neck and heaves out again. 
You turn on your foot and slowly pad out of the kitchen. You hear his sole squeak subtly but refuse to glance back again. You can’t help but feel that it’s all your fault. You’re sure he’s too nice to say so. Or too distracted by the chaos you’ve caused.
🖤
The new apartment isn’t an apartment at all. It’s a walkup townhouse with a sleek black and white exterior. The neighbourhood is far out of your range but you won’t complain. You suspect Steve is already aware of the deferential.
“Wow, this place is really nice,” you say as he holds the door for you. You step inside and take in the space; a narrow staircase to the next floor, black frames around grayscale photography, and minimalist decor in the form of a standing geometric floor vase and a coat rack with bent arms. 
You stop to take your shoes off on the mat as Steve squeezes in behind you and shuts the door. You trip away from him, surprised by the friction of his body against yours. You’ve always been overly aware of yourself and how much room you take up. Your size makes it hard to not feel crowded, still the close brush rattles you.
He swirls the keys around a finger and stills them in his fist. He looks around emphatically and waves a hand.
“Well, this is it. It’s my only vacant property at the moment, so, it’ll have to do. Fully furnished, at least.”
“It’s great,” you assure him as you step further in, your duffel hanging heavy from one arm, “wow, it’s…”
“A lot bigger than your place. Yeah. New development. Invested at ground floor. You’ll be the first tenant, at least for the time being.”
“Ah, right,” you go to the narrow bench of black acrylic and place your bag atop it. “I’ll try not to mess it up.”
“Didn’t mean it like that.”
“Uh, yeah, but obviously it’s above my paygrade,” you scoff, “I appreciate it and sorry again.”
“Don’t worry about it. Really. Dropping a couple hundred on a new washer woulda saved us both trouble. I only got one person to blame,” he holds out his hand, “you don’t need a tour, do ya?” He offers the keys and you step up to take them, “I’ll be back around noon to get you to work but I got running around to do.”
“Um, I should be able to figure it out–”
“Oh, wait,” he puts a finger up, “the door code. Just in case. Also, you’ll wanna override the security system when you get in.” He turns and points to the sleek black box mounted beside the door, “I got it on my phone but you’ll just need to pop it open and put in the number.” He slides out his phone, “I’ll just text it before I forget.”
“Right,” you nod as you clutch the keys tight, “got it. I think I can manage.”
“Anyway, you got my number, you need anything, you know how to reach me,” he checks his watch, “noon,” he repeats as he points at you, “I’ll be back.”
He spins and opens the door, swiftly stepping through before swinging it shut behind him. You’re left slightly stunned and don’t move right away. You cross the floor and twist the latch of the door, a cautious habit likely unnecessary in this neighbourhood.
You turn back to your new abode and let your eyes rove. Wow. All this just for you. You wonder how much one of these places go for. Your monthly pay probably wouldn’t even cover a single week.
You shuffle forward, uncertain, expecting for Steve to come back through and tell you it’s all a mistake. 
You peer around at the immaculate decor. Each piece is perfectly set and carefully curated. The long leather sectional and the matching square backed armchairs before the artificial fireplace in the wall. A low coffee table on a rug patterned in black and white, a touch of red in the throw pillows and the curtains.
Then the kitchen, white, pure marble, and pale silver appliances. The tile is marked by subtle dove grey diamonds, and a table sits against the wall with two chairs. You go back into the hallway and down towards the front of the stairs. You peek up at the top as you pass the small half-bath embedded on the other side.
Upstairs, you find two bedrooms, a full bath, and what appears to be a study, along with several spacious closets. It’s truly a dream. Who knew a broken washer could get you a stay in heaven.
Well, you should get settled in. Enjoy it while it lasts.
🖤
As promised, Steve shows up just before noon. You have your uniform on but feel less than ready to go. The abrupt awakening, the displacement, and the typical dread of the overcrowded box store. Your job is less than glamorous and the townhouse underlines that even more as you bid it a reluctant goodbye.
Steve’s car is sleek and red and overpriced. You don’t know much about cars but you can just tell. The interior is squeaky and so clean you’re sure it must be right off the lot. That new car smell fills your nose and threatens to inspire a migraine.
You put your purse in your lap and buckle up as he turns down the volume on the stereo. You recognise the song, surprised by his taste. He didn’t seem the angsty type. As far from grungy as you can imagine.
“Smashing Pumpkins?” You comment.
“You don’t like them?”
“Don’t mind em,” you shrug, “just figured you were more into… I don’t know, just not them.”
“When I’m not unclogging toilets or changing smoke alarms, I actually do have fun,” he scoffs.
“Oh, I didn’t mean–”
“Kidding,” he assures you as he pulls away from the curb.
You watch the townhouses pass by as he slowly rolls down the street. It’s eerie. There are no other cars lined up in the spots parallel to the pavement. In fact, you don’t see anyone else around. Not through windows, not coming or going, no one so much as walking down the cul-de-sac. It is oddly isolated from the suburbs all around.
“Not like I have great music taste, I’m a disco junkie,” you try to laugh off the tension.
“Fun,” he muses dully.
You don’t respond. You’re on your phone checking Uber prices for the way back. Eek. You pull up the bus routes for the area; at least two transfers to get there. Shit.
“So…” Steve begins, “who you chatting with? Telling them about your tight-ass landlord or what?”
“Uh, no,” you put your phone down and black the screen, “I was just… tryna figure out how I’m getting home. Sorry. Did you say something?”
“Nothing important,” he assures, “what time are you done?”
“Nine, closing,” you explain, “it’s fine, there’s buses. I’ll just have to remember not to go to my usual stop.”
“I can come get you,” he offers.
“That’s… that’s fine. You don’t have to. You’ve already done enough–”
“Really, I don’t have much else going on. Besides the washer but my buddy’s taking care of that for me. I’ll be available.”
“If you don’t mind, but really, I’m gonna have to learn the route. Actually, when do you think I’ll be back at my apartment?”
“Couple of days at best. After we left, the water got into the motor of the dryer– to spare you the whole spiel, the dryer needs to be replaced too. And the floor might need to come up, water’s done a number on the laminate–”
“Oh,” you grimace, “I… that sounds bad.”
“Nothing that can’t be fixed. Look, I know it’s probably not ideal for you to be all the way out here. I’ll keep you updated,” he speaks with one hand as his other remains on the wheel.
“Oh, no, I appreciate all your help. It’s just…” you cross your ankles and nervously wiggle your foot, “I’m just anxious.”
He hums and a thoughtful silence rises between you. He turns a corner and clears his throat, “about the apartment or work?”
“What?”
“What are you anxious about?” He asks.
“Oh, uh, yeah, uh, work, sure. Work always makes me anxious. Lots of angry customers and we’re headed into that season, you know?”
“Makes sense,” he nods, moving his hand low on the wheel as he sits back and steers lazily with the clogged flow of the city traffic.
“And the apartment,” you admit, “I’m not the best with change.”
“Yeah, I get that,” he agrees, “I’m a bit of stickler. I like order, you know? Everything has its place. Everyone has their role.”
You mull his words. It’s a strange way of putting it but you get it. You find your life erratic this time of year, when your schedule goes from predictable to hectic and fluid. Everyone wants to switch shifts and all the managers are trying to fill the schedule with as few bodies as possible.
“I mean…” he breaks the lull, “you know, I keep a pretty strict schedule with myself. Try to. You never know when you’ll get a call at 5am.”
You suck in air and look at him from the corner of your eye. His allusion isn’t subtle. The pit sinks further in your stomach. You don’t need one more person disappointed in you, not when you’re about to face Gwen the manager and her omnipotent clipboard.
“Yeah, uh,” you bend your arm and rub your neck, “sorry…”
“You apologise a lot,” he interrupts, “I’m not mad.”
“I know, I just feel bad,” you move your thumb to chew it.
He glances over at you before quickly refocusing on the road. He laughs, a hollow, gristly chuckle, “trust me, if I was mad, you would know.”
You blink. What? You’re not sure what he means. Is he joking? Maybe it’s that he’s such a nice guy that the change would be unmistakable or maybe he’s being sarcastic and you’re too stupid to pick up on it. Either way, you just want this car ride to be over.
“Right,” you eke out, “I’ll, erm, be sure to stay on your good side then.”
He slides his hand around the wheel to the top, squeezing until the leather squeaks. He shifts in his seat and exhales, “girl like you, I can’t imagine you being too much of a handful.”
His remark sticks in your ears. Again, you’re confounded by him. You can't read his tone as it's quickly washed away by the sudden blare of music as he cranks up the volume.
“This is a good one,” he calls over the music, “I’m sure you know it.”
Despite all my rage, I am still just a rat in a cage Despite all my rage, I am still just a rat in a cage Someone will say, "What is lost can never be saved" Despite all my rage, I am still just a rat in a cage
Now I'm naked Nothing but an animal But can you fake it For just one more show?
The creaky tones of Billy Corgan’s lilt surrounds you as Steve bobs his head. The swirl of noise and the shadow of tension mingle and suffocate you. You’re starting to look forward to work.
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koji-haru · 3 months
Text
Time Travel Au Part: 2
[Sorry this took too long and how short it is. I've just been going from one holiday onto another, and writing on my phone is just 🫠. Anyway, hope you enjoy it anyway.]
Under a large oak tree were two figures in a comforting embrace. Lilith had her head on Lucifer’s lap as his deft fingers braided her soft hair, adding some flowers in between. The thick foliage provided both shade from the afternoon sun, though some managed to pass through, speckling both with golden light. Lilith stared at the canopy, her mind preoccupied. While they told her that Eden was paradise, every day it felt more and more like a lie. From the forests to the beaches, everything was perfect. All following the same repetitive rhythm, and she was to dance along with it over and over again. For Lilith, it felt like torture. Everything felt stagnant, like there was no room for change since everything was already perfect. And the thought of living this life forever… well, the thought terrified Lilith.
Then, there was also Adam. From the very beginning, he never seemed to have liked her, and while the feeling was mutual, recently, Lilith felt that he has grown more forceful. They couldn't even stand being near each other anymore. There was one time when she confided in him her feelings of wanting more out of Eden. She had expected the usual response of disagreeing with her, scolding her of disobeying God. Instead, he pointed towards the walls that surrounded Eden.
“Those walls exist for a reason. Ever wonder what's beyond them?”
And when he pointed it out like that, then yeah, now she wondered, and she has been wondering ever since. What was beyond the walls? What were they separating them from? Was there life outside the garden? So many questions in her mind, and yet she couldn't have the answer. Not if she continued to play by God’s rules.
—--‐---------------------------------------------------------------------
Adam laid under the gentle warmth of the sun, soft grass cushioning him. His hand lazily brushing the jaguar on top of him. The last few days had been such nice days for him. He saw Lilith less as he drove her further and further away, and he was pretty sure that anytime now her and Lucifer would get caught, or she'd eat the apple. Either way, he couldn't wait.
He had fully intended to spend the day just lazing about, spending time with his new best friend, Amora the jaguar, enjoying the sun as he hummed a satisfied tune. A little reward for himself for doing so well despite Lucifer and Lilith's presence. Suddenly, a small shadow loomed above him. He peeked one eye open to check who was disturbing his sunbathing time. Leaning over him was a familiar face, one that he hasn't seen much.
“Adam.”
Michael called for Adam's attention. Cold blue eyes boring into Adam's, wavy golden locks that hung just above his shoulders framed his handsome, yet delicate face.
For a short moment, Adam remained laying on the grass as he stared back at Michael. What was he doing here? Did he do something suspicious for Michael to come down? Has he been caught already?
Adam blinked slowly, calming his nerves. He gently patted Amora to get off him. He sat up, twisting his body to face Michael. Well, here goes.
“Hello, what can I do for you, um…”
“Michael. I'm one of Lucifer’s brothers.”
Adam pretended to beam up at the mention of Lucifer.
“I thought I might find him with you considering his latest passion…” Michael looked around. “Lilith isn't with you?”
Adam deflated at Michael's question. He looked down as he mindlessly picked on the grass.
“...No. I haven't seen much of Lucifer or Lilith lately,” Adam replied, his voice with dejection, a little frown on lips. “But that's alright! I've got Amora here with me!” Adam stretched hid arms wide, shaking his hands as he proudly presented the jaguar that was lazily lying down beside him. He loved all the animals in the garden, but he and Amora, they were kindred spirits. As friendly as she was like the other animals, the jaguar also had a mischievous side. Sometimes, he'd catch her randomly pushing others animals off a spot for no particular reason at all. Maybe she just didn't like them, and honestly, Adam can relate. He also liked to bother some people for no particular reason, or well, he used to have those people.
Michael cocked an eyebrow at that. That wasn't right. “You're saying you haven't seen both of them in a while?”
Adam shook his head.
“Adam, Lilith is your partner and Lucifer is the main caretaker of this garden. That includes you and Lilith. It is not right for either of them to exclude you.” Michael declared, his voice ever serious. “Stay here. I'll correct this.”
And with that, Michael unfurled all of his six wings, pure white at the top fading into blue at the tips, and took off to the skies.
Adam had met Michael before in his previous life, although they didn't interact much. The angel was always busy with work that he took maybe a little too seriously. Actually, everything about the angel was too serious. Always straight and to the point, it was either business or nothing at all. He swore the guy never took a break. But honestly, that was what he liked more about Michael than with Lucifer. Michael was someone you could trust, he was someone that kept his promises. The few times they did interact was when Adam was still new to Heaven and being angel. While Adam picked up some skills over the thousands of years he spent as leader of the exterminators, Michael taught him most of his fighting skill. Michael was just cool like that, definitely the better brother.
Adam watched Michael take off to the skies searching for both Lilith and Lucifer. He really hoped that Michael would catch them on the act, that would make his day even better. Adam wrapped his arms around Amora as he buried his face on her silky fur while humming a happy tune. The jaguar purred in response, nuzzling against Adam in return.
I just found a way to get rid of them. Nice.
Part 1
Part 3
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builtbybrokenbells · 9 months
Text
CAPITAL VICES | ENVY
Tumblr media
Envy: the intense desire to have something that someone else possesses.
Masterlist
Listen while reading: Poison - Alice Cooper
Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader
Word Count: 15.5k
Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, oral (f!receiving), fingering (f!receiving), dom/sub, sir kink, praise, degradation, bratty sub, lots of dirty talk, name calling, overstimulation, forced orgasm if you squint, drinking, swearing, fighting, mentions of cheating, mentions of breakups/breakups, mentions of hookups, mentions of substance/addiction/withdrawal, mentions of divorce/bad past relationships, mentions of death/dying, mentions of loss of a parent/grief, guilt, regret, depression, general sadness, anxiety, jealousy/possessiveness, very brief mention of guns, sorry if i miss any!
😘 as always, enjoy, be kind, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes!!
The haze of smoke in the room was becoming overwhelming, and even though it would normally be enticing, now it seemed nothing short of a nuisance. A basket of fries sat in front of you, ketchup lazily pooling next to the pile of fried food. Although originally put there for a dipping sauce, now it’s only purpose was to make the fries soggy and even more unappetizing. Your hunger seemed to have fled you, but in truth, never really existed in the first place. You only convinced yourself to order it as an attempt to resume some sort of normalcy to what life was like months ago. A triple whiskey sat in front of you, deliciously tempting, but the exact opposite of what you needed to feel better. Ray approached you, a knowing look in his eye and his usual, raggedy towel slung over his shoulder.
“Been a while, darlin’.” He leaned on the countertop, looking down at your untouched order. “Missed ya.”
“Yeah, I guess it has.” You chuckled, swirling your ice around your glass. “How’ve you been?”
“Livin’.” He replied, taking a long look over your face. “And you?”
“Oh, you know.” You forced a smile onto your lips, beginning to realize that coming out was the worst thing you could have done. “Working, sleeping, and working some more. An exciting life I live.” You neglected to mention the days of wallowing that had come before your arrival at the bar and the horrific heartbreak you were experiencing. Now that you did not have Jake to occupy your time, you had decided to return to your weekly Friday night routine; drinking yourself into oblivion at the bar and falling asleep alone. What used to be so fantastic was now gut-wrenching, and the thought of returning to an empty bed was killing you.
It had been about a week since your blowout with Jake, and he did well to heed your wishes. Not once had he tried to reach out, and neither did you. As the days dragged on and no contact was had, you slowly started to understand that the relationship was over, and all you could do was mourn what was once so beautiful. Instead of trying to fix things, you thought it was easier to tend to your wounds in seclusion and move forward with your life instead. You hadn’t even so much as looked at a picture of him or spoken his name, and you didn’t plan on it. If you knew one thing about healing, it was that doubling back only ever made it hurt worse.
You missed him, but not nearly enough to lose your dignity by begging for him to come back. If he did not want you, and sex was the only thing you were good for, so be it. He got his fill, and you would not lose any more respect for yourself by running back to him and trying to get him to see you were worth more than that.
“Not spending time with that guy who was with you the other night?” He asked, raising an eyebrow as he waited for a response.
“No, definitely not.” You gave a chuckle, shaking your head. “Waste of my time, Ray.” You reminded, forcing him to recall your many drunken ramblings about men.
“He do wrong by you?” He asked, trying to get to the bottom of your quiet brooding. You shifted in your seat, taking a long sip from your beverage.
“No,” you shook your head. “I started it.” You confessed.
“Don’t think you’d be this upset if he didn’t do anything wrong.” He said, polishing the rims of a few glasses that just came from the dishwasher. You shrugged your shoulders, finding the familiar burn of the whiskey comforting. Finally, you seemed to find some sort of connection to the version of you that lived before Jake, even if it was through cheap liquor and the company of an old bartender.
“He did, but the blame is still on me. He might have done wrong, but I was the one who let him.” You let your eyes focus on the grain of the wood in the bar counter, finding it easier to avoid eye contact.
“Darlin’, I think it’s time you stop blaming yourself for everything. What others do to you isn’t your fault, and you’re allowed to be mad at someone other than yourself.” He sat another drink in front of you, noticing you were already running low on liquor. “That one’s on the house.”
“Four daughters really taught you a thing or two about advice.” You gave a solenn smile. “I’ll try my best.”
“Four daughters gave me a lot more than good advice.” He chuckled, wiping down the table as he spoke. The fatherly tone sent your heart into agony. He was so proud of his children, and nearly every time you visited the bar, you heard about all of their accomplishments and struggles. It was a beautiful thing to see a father love his children so dearly, but you could not refute the jealousy that plagued you every time you listened to the stories.
It was not jealousy over the fact you did not have a good father and they did, because in your opinion, your father was the best one in the entire world. You were jealous that yours was not around to speak such admiration about you to others, and he was not there to pat you on the back and speak his own advice. You missed him with a fervor, and in the last week, it was more intense than it had been in a very long time. You wished so badly that you could have your dad by your side, speaking truth about the stupidity of boys and speaking praise about how you were better than what Jake made you feel.
Your mother, of course, could do all of the same things, and your sister too, but it was not the same. Missing your father was the most difficult thing you had ever done, and it made you want to seclude yourself until the pain passed through. You did not want to reach out to the rest of your family for the same formalities; he was the only person who could truly make you feel better, and it had always been that way. You were angry that he was not here to help you through what seemed like your biggest heartbreak yet, even including the broken marriage that crumbled before you ever grew into an adult.
The heartbreak Jake had caused was violent, devastating and above all, deadly. It came about in such a way because your feelings for him creeped up on you, silent and unforgiving as you fell hopelessly in love with him. You had never got along with anyone else so swimmingly, and nobody else in the world had ever made you feel like he did. Most of all, it hurt so badly because he was the last person in the world you expected to hurt you.
He was the first person you trusted enough to know such intimate details about your life, and the first person in which you opened up to without a paralyzing amount of fear. You knew that you had done wrong, and you should not have let your past experience define what could have been with Jake, and if you could, you would take it all back in a heartbeat. You wished you had the ability to respond without all of the defenses you built up so high, and you wished that you could have swallowed your pride enough to realize that all he wanted to do was care for you. You loved Jake more than you ever thought you could, and if you had the chance to do it all again with the same outcome, you still would.
You knew that his response was due to his own hurt, but it did not take away from the things he said to you. You hurt him so much by rejecting him so bluntly and without hesitation, and you regretted it immensely. Jake was the last person you wanted to treat so poorly, because he was the first person to show you kindness at the hands of another. But, when you thought about his harshness for too long, a wave of nauseous overtook you and tears filled your eyes. You had hurt him, but he had hurt you just the same. You did not want to blame him for his actions, especially knowing that they came from a place of pain, but you could not choke down the bitter taste of his insults. If he could change his mind so quickly, you worried that maybe he thought that way all along.
The hurt also stemmed from your complete transparency with him. You opened up, told him more than you’d ever told anyone else, and moments later, he threw your relationship back in your face and denounced it to meaningless sex. To you, the sex was all but meaningless, and you truly thought it meant just as much to him. After the months of shared nights and memories that would stick with you for a lifetime, you hoped that you meant more to him than sexual gratification. You poured your heart out to him, telling stories of a failed marriage and a dead father in hopes that he would keep it safe and maybe in turn, take some weight off your shoulders. It was incredibly difficult for you to tell him so much, especially when you dedicated your entire life to keeping it hidden. It killed you to know that he would turn into a stranger again even after knowing you so well, and that your biggest secrets were in the hands of someone who you no longer wanted to know.
You were so caught up in your internal brooding that you didn't even notice Ray leave your side, nor did you hear the chime of the bell sound above the front door. It was not like you would have turned to look anyway; your interest in anything other than getting drunk was greatly lacking, and worrying about what others were doing would only hold you back from your intentions. If you found yourself concerned about the happenings of everyone else, it was take too long to get to the level of drunkenness you aspired to be, and you would have to stay at the bar far longer than you wanted.
You were a creature of habit, and despite your lack of desire to be at the bar, you needed to feel like yourself again. The only way you could do that was to carry on as if Jake Kiszka never stumbled into your life at all.
Your second drink was threatening the end when you felt someone take a seat beside you. You would not have turned to look if they did not extend a warm greeting, and even then, you wished you had ignored it.
“Hey, Josh.” You forced a smile, knowing that he was the worst person you could have encountered, only second to Jake himself.
“Fancy meeting you here, friend who is a girl.” You were certain that he had just reached out and stabbed you in the chest. The pain was unbearable, and it was nearly blinding. You kept your eyes glued to the glass in your hand, unsure if you could maintain eye contact without breaking down. Then, a fleeting feeling of fear ran through you. ‘Friend who is a girl’ was an awfully endearing term for someone who just broke his twin brothers heart. Either Josh did not know what transpired between you and Jake, or he was exceptionally good at hiding it.
“It is my favourite bar, after all.” You tried to joke with him, but it only made your chest ache with even more intensity.
“I knew there was a reason Jake suggested this place.” He chuckled, having an a-ha moment as he pieced the puzzle together. “It all makes sense now.” He gave an airy sigh, turning to the bartender to order a drink. “And one for her too, please.”
“Oh, Josh, no need for that-“
“I insist.” He was so similar to his brother that it was scary. As you waited for the drinks, you pondered his elusive words for a moment. From all that you knew about Josh, he did not seem deceitful in the slightest. If anything, he seemed like he was a terrible liar. Josh did not know a single thing that transpired, and you would be damned if you were the one to tell him.
Then, an evil idea infiltrated your sorrowful mind. If you pushed Josh in the right direction, he might have the answers to all of the questions you’d been wondering about in the past week.
Your sin had not only effected your relationship with Jake; now, it seemed to have an impact on every aspect of your life, including relationships with even the furthest of acquaintances.
“So Jake wanted to come here tonight?” You asked, trying your best to put on a mask of confidence. You yourself had never been very well versed in deceit, but you knew that it was your only shot at getting any real answers. God knows you would never reach out to Jake yourself, and his twin brother seemed to be the only chance at finding out the truth.
“Yeah, he was pretty adamant about it. I wasn’t sure why until I walked in and saw you sitting up here all alone.” He gave you a grin, turning to thank the bartender as he slid the drinks your way. “I’ll start a tab, too.” Ray nodded, raising an eyebrow at you, the expression full of inquiry. You waved him off, making it clear that you would stay to chat about it later.
“Thank you,” you replied, taking a sip from your new beverage. He shrugged you off, the gesture small and nothing that was requiring of a thanks.
“Jake was sick all week, so when he asked us all to come out, we jumped at the chance. He skipped practice and everything, which is really unlike him. I’ve seen him pick up that guitar with pneumonia.” He chuckled.
“Oh, wow. I didn’t know.” You breathed, realizing then that he took the separation just as hard as you did.
“I’m surprised you didn’t catch it from him. He was so sick he couldn’t even get out of bed. I went over to his place once, but he was asleep so I just let him be.” Josh had no idea, but you were indeed suffering from the same sickness that Jake had. Heartbreak was more deadly than any other virus, and the two of you were plagued with it. Apparently Jake had the same idea as you and was hoping for a peaceful night to drink the despair away. Or, he was plotting for the absolute opposite.
“Yeah, that is strange. He never told me he was sick.” You muttered, lying through your teeth. Of course he didn’t tell you he was sick; he hadn’t told you anything at all since the last time you saw him.
“So was this planned, or is he just pulling a classic Jake move and hoping he’ll run into you?” Josh raised an eyebrow.
“Definitely not planned, so it must be the latter.” You took another long drink from your glass, wondering when the whiskey would satiate the hurt in your heart. When the burn did not even come close to the painful ache, you worried that it might be permanent.
“Something on your mind, friend who is definitely not a girlfriend? You seem off.” You caught his eye, nearly laughing at his statement. He was correct, you were definitely not a girlfriend, and now it was unlikely that you ever would be. You hated the fact that the option was no longer possible, because being his girlfriend no longer seemed like the worst thing in the world. If anything, you almost liked the idea.
“Lots, but nothing important.” You admitted, knowing that you could never profess such feelings to the brother of the man you loved so deeply. Telling Josh before Jake would be blasphemous, and you could not bring yourself to involve him in the mess you made. Well, any further, anyway.
“I think it’s important,” he assured you, trying to hold your gaze in hopes that his eyes would speak the truth better than his words could. You gave him a soft smile, appreciating his kindness but painfully aware that you were undeserving of it. Once he knew the truth, you were certain he would like you a lot less than he did in that moment. You felt guilty that you were maintaining a conversation with him after hurting Jake so much, but you could not explain your need to talk to him. He was the closest thing you had to a friend, even if you did not know him very well. More than that, he reminded you of the boy you missed with such intensity. When you spoke to him, he gave that same sense of home, even if he was not the home you were in need of. He was the vacation while you awaited retirement.
“It’s just work stuff. Had a particularly hard client, and I’m just trying to forget about it.” You lied with ease, the dishonesty beginning to turn your soul black and your morals upside down. For your entire life, you valued the truth, and ever since you met Jake, it seemed like you’d forgotten all about it. You lied to him about your feelings, and now you were lying to his brother, too. You were unrecognizable, the sinful months beginning to morph you into someone you tried so hard to run away from. The devil worked fast, and you had not yet found the strength to tell him to stop. You worried that if you could not find the courage soon enough, you would never recover.
“I’m sure you’ll prove them wrong. If you’re as talented as Jake says you are, I’m not sure how anyone could be dissatisfied with your work.” His name sent another blow straight to your stomach.
When a hand was placed on his shoulder and his attention was pulled in another direction, you were thankful for the break. You needed a moment to regain yourself, and you could not do that with Josh’s burning stare and reassuring words pointed at you. The guilt was eating you alive, and you knew you would have to come up with an excuse to evade his company if you wanted to make it through the night alive.
When you managed to catch your breath and settle the erratic nature of your heart, a hand landed on your own shoulder. You looked back, hoping to find one of the other two boys that did not have any affect on you, but instead, you were met with a sinking feeling in your stomach and an emotionally heavy gaze. You couldn’t believe that he approached you first, but as you looked over at Josh’s smiling face, you realized that it was likely all for the appearance. So, in hopes of avoiding and awkward questions, you threw on your biggest smile of the night.
“Jacob,” you greeted, trying to appear comfortable under his burning touch and unwavering stare. There was an obvious hint of reluctance in his eye which easily confirmed your worry. He was only talking to you on behalf of hiding the truth from Josh. You expected to be greeted with anger, or even distaste for him catching you sitting with his brother, but it did not seem like he felt that way at all. If anything, you felt that behind the reluctance to speak to you, pain was pooling in his expression.
“Long time no see, sweetheart.” The pet name sent your blood cold. What once was so comforting and sweet now seemed like an insult, or a backhanded gesture to get the last laugh.
“Will she be joining our soirée tonight?” Josh asked his brother. The two of you shared a look, and eventually you turned to Josh with a small shake of your head. In that moment, he realized the depth of the situation and a sense of sympathy formed on his face. “I see,” he said, taking a drink from his cup to avoid the awkwardness of speaking again.
“Could I… would you mind… I’d just like a minute alone with him, if that’s alright.” You struggled through the statement, anxiety written all over you. You had no idea what you were doing, but you were too far gone to stop yourself, now. Something about Jake made it so difficult to think before acting.
“Oh, yeah, f’course.” Josh said, nearly tripping over himself to stand. “I’ll grab that booth over there. I’m sure Sam and Daniel will be joining us soon.” He said, not waiting around for a second longer. You watched as Josh disappeared, almost immediately regretting your decision to stay. After a few moments of awkward silence filled with background chatter and obnoxious music, you managed to turn to face him.
“Can you… sit for a minute?” You mumbled, embarrassed to be taking the step. You didn’t notice it, but he was overjoyed that you spoke to him at all. He did come to the bar with intent to find you there, but he certainly did not expect a friendly conversation from you.
“Sure,” he bit down on his tongue, holding back the term of endearment that was begging to be said. He took post in the stool that Josh had previously occupied, looking down at his hands for a moment to gain enough courage to meet your eyes.
You did not know what you were doing, only what you felt in your heart. Had you stopped yourself from speaking and thought about the repercussions, you would have realized how bad of an idea it was to talk to him.
“I’m sorry,” you breathed, looking over at his face.
Maybe you even would have understood that apologizing was giving him the key to your heart again, which would inevitably land you just as hurt and broken as you had been all week.
Doubling back on your promise to stay away from him was essentially pointing a loaded gun at your head, and talking to him was equal to pulling the trigger.
“You’re sorry?” He asked, appalled at the thought of you apologizing. When you asked him to sit, he’d been preparing for the cruelest of insults and the worst of your thoughts. “No, angel. I’m sorry.” You has completely thrown him off track, and every thought he had while waking into the bar no longer existed. The only thing that mattered was your sad eyes and your heart that was splayed so delicately on your sleeve. The hurt was gone, replaced with the longing he’d been burying deep inside himself.
“You don’t need to be.” You shook your head. “Well, you do, but not nearly as much as I should be.” You did not have intent to rekindle the relationship, but you did want to settle the score.
At least that’s what you were trying to convince yourself. As you repeated it in your head, your hands were desperate to reach out for him and your body was aching to be held by him again.
“I shouldn’t have responded like that.” You let out a long breath, trying to gather your thoughts as you poured your heart out to him. “I, uh, I don’t like falling in love, and relationships terrify me, but you didn’t deserve that.” You had no idea why you were trying so hard with him, and no idea why you hoped that he would understand. You didn’t want to be with him, and you didn’t want him to feel like that was your intent. It was better left unsaid, but for some reason, you could not will yourself to walk away from him. Even more so, you could not let him walk away from you again. “I do care about you, Jake. I just don’t really know how to do that anymore, and when you said it so bluntly, it scared the shit out of me.”
“Oh.” He breathed, enthralled in the details of your face. He felt himself falling for you all over again, and this time, it did not scare him nearly as much as the last. You tried to deny it, but you felt the familiar gravitational pull pushing you towards him. You were enamoured with him from the minute you caught sight of his face. “I shouldn’t have thrown it on you like that. It was unfair, and I can see that now. I just… it felt right, and I couldn’t stop myself.” He admitted, almost appearing nervous as he tried his best to be transparent with you the same way you were with him. “I promised you, y/n, and I hate that I couldn’t keep it.” You swallowed thickly, your eyes darting to the whiskey glass in your hand.
“I guess I didn’t keep my promise very well, either.” You chuckled. “I couldn’t even admit it, even if we were playing house every day.” You sipped your drink, hoping that it might calm your nerves. When he looked as if he was waiting for you to continue, you did. “I care about you a lot, Jake. So much that it scares me. I felt it, too, and I don’t know why I couldn’t just say it, or at least respond with less… crazy.” You laughed. For the first time since he’d joined you that night, a smile crossed his lips, too. It was blinding, the kind that you couldn’t fake, and it warmed your heart.
“You’ve always been more than sex.” He confessed, profound and sincere. “You are worth the whole world and more, and I’m sorry that I said that. I didn’t mean it, but it doesn’t mean that it didn’t hurt.” You were so relieved that you felt tears begin to prickle your eyes. For the first time since he walked out of your house that night, the world did not feel like it was ending. “And you look stunning tonight, as always.”
“Don’t push it, Jacob.” You giggled, feeling the need to lean over and kiss him. You held back, not out of fear of love, but because you worried he might not want it. There was no way you could stop yourself if he leaned in first, and the more the seconds passed, the more comfortable you grew with the thought.
“You remember the last time we sat here?” He raised an eyebrow, leaning into you so similar to how he did that very first night.
“How could I forget?” You rolled your eyes. “Pretty sure you were wearing the same, tacky dress pants.”
“And you were just as insulting.” He teased, but the look in his eye lead you to believe he was not hurt by your words. Instead, he seemed estatic to hear that same tone of voice again.
“Two condoms in your wallet?” You bit back a smile.
“Three, actually.” He corrected. “Was hoping I could find someone who I could keep with me all weekend.” The look in his eye darkened slightly, letting you know he was thinking of all the filthy things the two of you could get up to with three, uninterrupted days.
“Maybe you’re looking in the wrong place.” You offered, pretending as if you weren’t thinking of the exact same things.
“Am I?” He challenged, leaning just a bit closer. “Don’t tell me I have to do this all over again.”
“A little courtship wouldn’t kill you, Jacob.” You swung your chair in his direction, facing him with the playful look in your eye he loved so much. “How bad do you want it?” You pressed further, leaning down slightly so he had a clear view of the cleavage your dress was allowing.
“I don’t even think I could make it to the bathroom, this time.” The seriousness in his tone was chilling, and in a moment of sheer irrationality, your hand reached over and rested on his. The moment contradicted all he had been afraid of, and although the gesture was small, it was more permissive than anything you’d done in the time you knew him.
He stood, moving towards you and capturing your face in his hands. With great intensity, he leaned down and placed his lips to yours. The kiss was heated, letting you know that he’d been thinking about it just as much as you had in the time spent apart, and neither of you wanted it to end.
For a moment, things seemed perfect.
But, you were far too grown to believe that perfection was possible, and your judgement was momentarily clouded by the yearning of your heart.
When you lived a lifestyle as sinful as yours, the devil had a helping hand in every aspect, and God did not have enough sympathy to grant you enough grace to allow for a moment of peace.
“Too much to say I missed you?” He mumbled against your lips, dreading the moment in which he would have to part from you. It was a phrase the two of you used often, and the answer was almost the same every single time.
“Just enough.” You replied, your heart begging to burst from your chest.
The problem was nowhere near resolved, and all you had done was found an island after being stranded in the ocean. It allowed for temporary relief, but not salvation.
“Can I buy you a drink to make up for it?”
“If we’re keeping score, I’d owe you plenty of drinks.”
“This is more than enough for me, angel.” He assured you, his lips still hovering over your own.
“One drink, then, and I’ll make it up to you later.” You offered, giving him a sly smile. The filthy invitation was subtle, but he could read you like a book. Filthy was the only thing the two of you knew, and it would not be easy to break out of it, even if you both committed to trying.
“Can we skip to that part? I don’t know if I can wait that long.”
“So impatient, Jacob.” You let out a disapproving tsk. “I heard once that the wait makes it all the better.”
“What can I say, sweetheart. You always bring out the worst in me.” His thumb drifted over your cheek, the glimmer of love in his eye returning as if it never left. “Besides, I think we have a lot of time to make up for.” His other hand landed on your thigh, just below the ending of the skirt of your dress. The touch was light, but electrifying. You knew that you could search to the ends of the earth, and you would still never find anyone who even came close to Jake.
“Don’t get yourself worked up, honey. It’ll be a long night for you.” You reached out, your hand landing on his side as you pulled him closer.
“For me?” He raised an eyebrow. The two words sent a rush of arousal straight to your core, and for a moment, you thought you would allow him to fuck you right over the bar top if it meant you could have him again. “Careful, angel. Would hate to have to remind you of who’s in charge.” You squeezed your thighs together to satiate the ache that was steadily growing. He noticed the tense of your muscles under his hand, a wicked look in his eye forming as he realized the mess he was causing between your legs.
“A double whiskey, please.” You tried to keep your voice as strong as possible, but the words came out strained. You were desperate to change the topic, but he was never one to give up so easily. He tightened his fingers around your leg for just a moment, the familiar smirk growing on his lips as he stepped away.
“Whatever you want, baby.” He hummed as he took a seat again, waiting for the bartender to return to the two of you. “Just be sure that’s what you want.” He said, looking over his shoulder at Ray who was serving a group of older men.
“What game are you playing, Jacob?”
“No games,” he promised “I’m just saying, if you want something, don’t be scared to ask for it.” At his words, something inside you snapped. You stood, not the least bit worried about your bluntness, and gave him a hard stare.
‘Self-righteous prick’ you thought to yourself. ‘God, I love it.’
“Meet me in the bathroom.” You said, only loud enough for him to hear. Hiding a smile, he watched you as you stormed towards the bathroom, his eyes focused intently on your ass. With a shrug of his shoulders, he finished the last of your drink, waiting only a moment before he stalked off in the same direction, uncaring about anyone catching you two in the act. When he approached the door to the bathroom, he took a deep breath to calm himself.
He raised his hand to knock on the door, but you swung it open and pulled him inside before his fist even had the chance to hit the wood. Before the door was closed behind you, your lips connected with his in a fervent embrace. As you attempted to push the door shut, your other hand was already unbuttoning his infuriatingly attractive shirt. His hands were on you, roaming every exposed inch of you and familiarizing himself with the feeling of you on his skin.
“And I’m the impatient one?” He smirked against your kiss, unable to hold back his thoughts.
“Shut the fuck up.” You muttered, finally managing to free the last button from his shirt. He reached up, tangling your curled hair in his fist and holding it tightly.
“Watch your fucking mouth.” He warned. Just because he had missed you did not mean that he was willing to give up the control.
“Shut the fuck up, sir.” You repeated, making sure to annunciate the title with as much detail as you could. As much as you missed his company, you missed pushing his buttons far more. “Is that better?
“Do you want me to leave you here all by yourself?” He questioned, the dominance in his voice familiar and incredibly enticing. Perhaps you decided to misbehave just to see it again, because in that moment, you felt at home again. “I will, angel. I’ll go out and order a drink, and you can take care of that ache between your legs all alone.” Your stomach plummeted at the thought of him leaving you on your lonesome. “You don’t like the sound of that, do you?”
“No, sir.” You shook your head, focused on his erection that was pressing into your hip. You doubted that he would do as he said, but you still feared that he might.
“Then lose the fucking attitude.” He ordered, taking a step forward so you were pushed against the wall. “I missed you too, but you need to be good for me, okay? If we’re in here for too long, people are going to notice we’re gone, and then we’ll be in trouble.”
“Okay.” You breathed, agreeing and knowing it was best to get to the point as fast as you could. Avoiding an awkward conversation was in your best interest, and your best interest was his biggest priority. You watched him as he sunk to his knees before you, his fingers bunching up the fabric of your dress and hiking it up to your navel. His lips dusted over your thighs, the sight nearly sending him weak. It had been far too long since he had you like this, but as much as he would have loved to keep you there with him all night, he knew he had to hurry.
“Dressing up for someone, sweetheart?” He asked, letting his fingers trail over the black lace of your thong. He tried to frame his question as inquisitive, but you knew it ran far deeper than teasing you. He was wondering if you had plans to meet with someone else. The thought nearly made him sick, but he felt as though he needed to know the answer.
“No, sir.” You promised. He looked up, catching your eye and living in the moment of sincerity.
“So this is all for me?” He smiled.
“Always.” You reached down, cupping his cheek in your palm. His eyes fluttered closed for a moment, feeling the warmth and wishing it could last forever. His fingers hooked through the sides of your underwear as he slowly pulled them away from your hips. He let the flimsy material fall to your ankles, his eyes heavy and clouded with desire for you.
“You’re too good to me, angel.” He purred, helping you free one leg from the thong. Instead of focusing on the other one, he guided the freed leg over his shoulder and placed a trail of sloppy kisses on the inside of your thigh.
The air between you was different, but in no negative way like you previously thought it would be. It was more passionate, more relaxed, and most of all, more loving. The confession of feelings did not change anything between you two like you feared. It only seemed to made the connection stronger, and so much better. You felt like an idiot for turning him away, and you regretted turning him down without a second thought. All that the two of you were doing was loving; the only difference from then to now was the words being spoken into existence. You cared much too deeply about the small word that held so little value, and not enough about the boy who found home between your legs. Now that you had him again, you vowed to never let yourself be so foolish again.
When his mouth connected with your core, you could not contain the pornographic moan that left your lips. A week to most was nothing, just a small amount of time that was easily forgotten. A week without Jake, however, was no less than torture, especially having left things so badly. The feeling of his tongue on you was addicting, and for the last seven days, you were a woman plagued with the worst of withdrawals. One hundred and sixty eight hours without his touch was excruciating, and ten thousand and eighty minutes without the grace of his presence felt worse than any hell that awaited you in the afterlife.
Any time spent away from Jake was horrible, and you never wanted to be apart from him again.
“Taste just as good as I remember, sweetheart.” He pulled away just long enough to slip in the comment, the husky tone of his voice sending your knees weak. “How fast do you think you can cum for me?”
“I don’t know, baby.” You breathed, already missing the feeling of his mouth. He should have phrased his question better; he was not wondering about your ability to orgasm, but rather how fast he could get you there. The answer was up to him, and he was nothing if not keen on a challenge. Without any further conversation, his tongue had found your clit once again, and this time, he was working with intent. “Oh, fuck.” You whined, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging at the roots.
The feeling of your fingers knotted in the locks of hair was exhilarating, better than any substance he could imagine. The taste of your arousal on his lips was like heaven, and he was a fool to have walked away from you. You were the best thing his hands ever had the opportunity to touch, and you were the only thing his heart desired. It did not matter if you were in the backseat of a car, or in a dirty bar bathroom, or even laid on the most expensive mattress the world had to offer; the moment was sacred to him, and it had everything to do with you.
He hummed against you, a wordless praise for the beautiful noises slipping past your lips. When you let his name mixed within them, he knew he would never hear a more beautiful sound. He was certain that the world could not offer any more than you, and his name would never sound half as pretty painted on someone else’s lips. He was unequivocally in love with you, and he no longer felt the need to run from it. This was where he was meant to be, foolishly happy and living with his head between your legs.
You let in a sharp intake of breath as he raised his hand to your cunt and slipped his fingers inside of you. Within seconds, he curled his fingers just right and hit the spot inside you only he knew how to find. He knew you better than anyone else in the world, but more than that, he was the only person who cared enough to know you so well. You were a mess, the sounds echoing off the walls adding to the sexual tension in the room and only driving him into a frenzy. Pleasing you had become his favourite pastime, and he was devestatingly good at it. Your hips bucked forward into his hand and his mouth, and you could feel him smile against you.
Driving you crazy had quickly become his trademark, and he was happy he could put the talent to use once more.
You were dangerously close, your walls constricting against him as you tried to fight the waves of pleasure. You body was sticky with sweat and your hair and makeup was likely ruined, but you didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was Jake, just like always. The knot in your belly was begging to unravel, taunting you further with every pump of his fingers and flick of his tongue. You hated how easy it was for him to send you in to such a state, but above all, you were thankful that he’d managed to find you amidst the chaos of the world.
As you began to descend into pleasure, the only thing you could think of was how grateful you were that out of billions of people, you were the lucky one to be able to have Jake.
If you told yourself that months ago, you would laugh and spit in your own face.
But the devil was a master at his trade, and this specific trade happened to be all things sex. It was impossible not to fall victim to it, even if it would eventually be the cause of your demise.
“Please don’t stop, m’gonna cum.” You pleaded, your grip tightening around the strands of hair tangled between your fingers. Your legs began to quiver and your mind quickly dissolved into desperate, obscene thoughts about the boy driving you mad. A particularly coarse moan tore from your chest, letting him know how good he was making you feel. Then, underneath the sound of your pleasure, so quiet that you almost missed, you heard him moan against you. It was filled with emotion, showing you all of him at once; the need for you, the weakness he had in regards to you, and the pure joy he felt from pleasing you.
And it sent you into absolute bliss.
You came hard, your body tensing as he held your hips tightly, keeping his mouth on you for as long as he could. He soaked up the pleasure, letting it settle heavily in his bones. It weighed him down with likeness to cement, forcing him to stay on the ground and live solely to please you for the rest of his life. As you came down, he couldn’t seem to stop himself. His tongue was still focused on your clit and his fingers moved as if he wanted to force you into another orgasm.
“Jake, please stop.” You gasped, the sting of overstimulation infiltrating every nerve in your body. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to pull his head away from you in reaction to the feeling. He did not stop, and he did not even show any signs of slowing. He wanted you to come again, and he wasn’t willing to back down. “Jake,” you tried again, but you knew that he would not stop unless you spoke the right word. A small part of you wanted to, but a bigger part of you wanted to continue. You had learned long ago that whatever Jake was willing to give you was worth more than anything else, and pain from him was worlds better than pleasure from another.
That was the funny thing about the devil; he forced your hand in believing that his torture was bliss.
He let out another moan against you, his cock painfully hard and strained against his pants. He needed you desperately, but not as much as he needed the taste of you on his tongue. It was more than a necessity; it was a matter of life or death. If he pulled away, he feared his heart would stop and his lungs would deflate.
“Fuck!” You yelped, your abdomen painfully tense and your mind swimming with nothing but a need to slow down. Still, he was like an addiction, and stopping was not an option. You too felt as though you would succumb to death if you had to go without him. He knew that despite your protests, you were close to the edge once again. Your body told him more than your words, and the rock of your hips against his hand and the way your walls clenched around his fingers, inviting them further inside told him all he needed to know.
The next orgasm that ravaged your body set your skin on fire and reduced your brain to mush. You could not speak, nor could you even force his name out. Your throat constricted alongside the rest of your body, and sweat began to bead on your forehead. Your hands were too weak to hold on to his hair any longer, and the only reason you were upright was because of his iron grip on you. This time, when you came down, his movements slowed with the beat of your heart. He moved his mouth first, and then his fingers followed. He looked up at your face, his chin glistening with wetness, and a smile blossomed on his lips.
“How was that, angel?” He asked, slowly rising to his feet. You could not form an answer, instead only blinking at him as you tried to steady your breathing. But, your silence was enough of a response for him, and he guided you towards the countertop before you could even begin to recover.
Your head was still spinning as he bent you over the counter and unbuckled his belt. You watched him in the mirror as he spit into his hand, rubbing himself for a moment before he rested the tip of his cock on you. He caught your eye into the mirror, giving you a small smirk as he studied your fucked out expression. Your eyes were glued to his face, memorizing the details of him too, fearful that you might miss something. The seven days spent apart had done nothing but make you dread what life would be like if you never saw him again. Now that he was there, standing behind you with his hands on you, you never wanted to be apart from him again. You did not want to miss out on a single moment of life with Jake, and you felt stupid for not being able to admit it sooner.
“Do you want it, sweetheart?” He asked, his tone low and filled with lust. “Do you want me?”
“I do,” you nodded, your voice raspy and your desperation evident. You caught his eye, a chill running down your spine at the expression he held in his gaze. His jaw was hard set and his nostrils were slightly flared. The sight of him alone was sending you feral, and you didn’t know if you could wait much longer. “Please, Jake. I need you.”
“You need me?” He taunted, pushing his hips forward ever so gently. The feeling of him inside you was thrilling, even if it was just barely. Only the tip rested inside you, and even though you both wanted to go further, the small action was worth more than anything else. You were certain Jake could give you anything, even including the smallest of gestures, and you would thank him until your lungs gave out from a lack of air. Any kindness from him was enough, and you were certain his injustices even bordered pleasure. He was everything, and you couldn’t believe he was yours.
“I need you,” you reiterated, giving him a look of desperation through the mirror. “Please, baby.” You tried again, feeling him push into you a little more. You let out a sigh of relief, knowing that soon enough he would not be able to resist the temptation. “You always make me feel so good.” He took in a sharp breath at your words, finally finding enough kindness to give you what you wanted.
When he bottomed out inside of you, he sat for a moment, completely still as he revelled in the feeling. His eyes were closed, his head tipped back towards the ceiling just enough to expose the muscles of his neck. His adams apple stuck out against his tanned skin, the glisten of sweat on him making the picturesque moment even more beautiful. His shirt was still on his shoulders, but all of the buttons were undone and his chest was bare, begging to be admired. You let your eyes trail all the way from his collarbones, drinking in the detail until your gaze settled on his navel. Then, your stare landed on the sight of his hips meeting yours, thinking about how the two of you fit together so perfectly that it was sinful not to indulge in the ritual.
You clenched around him, biting back a smirk as his eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. He let his hand drift up your back, settling in tight hold on your shoulder. “I missed that tight little cunt.” He muttered, finally meeting your eyes in the reflection again. Your stomach twisted into knots, your legs going weak again just at his words. Behind his pupil, you could see the streak of evil that so often ran through him. When your eyes went out of focus, you swore that devil horns sat atop his head much like the first night you shared with him, but this time they were not hidden in the blackness of night. They were in plain sight, and you did not even believe he was trying to hide it anymore.
It was almost funny, how you had been so scared of his hellish nature in the beginning, and now you had fallen in love with it just the same as the rest of him.
He withdrew his hips slowly and steadily, and then with the force of his hand on your shoulder, pulled you back down on him with a strength that made your head spin. A cry of pleasure fell from your lips as he made it a point to keep up the brutal pace. He was sinister, and that much was obvious, yet you no longer held a fear for his godless power. As time dragged on, a part of your soul had turned vile to match the evil of his own, and the two of you had become one. You could not point a finger at him and call him the devil, because you would have to point at yourself in the mirror and say the same. The wicked nature lived within the both of you, taking over and claiming your body as it’s own. You were possessed by the power, and the two of you ruled hell as one. The fate you feared awaited you was no longer terrifying, because you were now the power you once feared.
You cannot play Russian roulette with Satan, because only he would have the knowledge to create a game so sinister. He passed you the loaded gun, and you put it to your own head even with the knowledge that there was six bullets sitting in the chamber.
You were playing a losing game; after all, how could death itself fear dying?
“This is what you wanted?” He asked, the sound of skin on skin filling the room and leaving little room for anything else. “You wanted me so bad you couldn’t even wait until we got home.”
Until we got home. Insinuating that home was only a place where the two of you existed together, and that home to him was wherever you were.
And god, he was right.
That house was nothing without him in it, and the memories made before his time meant little anymore. He was home, and that house was just a shelter to hide away in until he was there to fill it with love. This time, upon the harsh realizations, you did not shy away from the idea. Instead, you welcomed it with open arms and a smile on your face. Jake was home, a place where you could hide away from the rest of the world. He was a hug after a long day, and a warm blanket after facing the violent cold. He was a place to put your sorrow down, and where you could let the walls of defence fall. He was not the only home you’d ever known, but he was the best one you’d ever known.
You wanted to tell him you loved him. The word was lingering in the air, the sweet taste dancing on the tip of your tongue and it’s soft hand was caressing your cheek. Instead, you moaned his name and told him how good he was making you feel. It was not the confession you wanted to make, but it was enough to satiate the craving until you were strong enough to speak the truth. Sex was the only way you knew how to communicate with him, but you hoped that with time, you would finally be able to speak the words he so badly wanted to hear.
“Shit!” You gasped, his cock slamming into your cervix and sending your thighs rocking into the countertop. You could already feel bruises forming, but you could not find it within yourself to care. When you returned home and took your dress off, it was serve as a reminder that he was real and you weren’t just dreaming of someone so wonderful. A loud slur of moans fell from your lips, and his hand came up to clamp around your mouth while he continued at the same, bruising pace.
“You have to be quiet, sweetheart.” He reminded, but sounds of pleasure were seeping from his own lips. “Those are only for me. You know that.” He tried to keep his voice steady, but you could tell that he was getting close from the waver of his words. You let out a while, muffled by the strong hand anchored to your mouth. “I know, angel.” He sympathized, feeling the same way. “Cum for me.”
You did just as he asked, unravelling around his cock and dissolving into a mess below him. He watched your face in the mirror, studying every miniscule detail and searing it into his brain forever. He never wanted to forget what you looked like when you were experiencing such euphoria at his hands. He muffled every noise that slipped out, and he kept his rhythm until you relaxed against him. When your eyes fluttered open and flickered up to meet his own, he couldn’t stop himself from reaching his own climax. His hips stuttered and you felt him twitch inside of you as he painted your walls with his release. His stature faltered and he slumped over slightly, wrapping you in a blanket of warmth as his chest pressed against your back. He released his hold on your mouth as he pressed his mouth to the back of your neck, leaving a few gentle kisses on the exposed skin.
“We have a thing for bathrooms.” You breathed, looking at his reflection through heavily-lidded eyes. You couldn’t help but feel pure adoration at the sight of his face, knowing for certain that you would never see a more beautiful person.
“You know I can’t help myself around you.” He gave a lazy chuckle, straightening up as he pulled out of you. “Especially when you wear such slutty dresses. You could at least leave something to the imagination.” He joked.
“Okay, I’ll keep that in mind next time.” You laughed, pushing yourself up off the counter.
“Don’t you dare.” He warned, knowing that he’d miss it more than anything.
“That’s what I thought.” You smirked, moving to clean yourself off as best as you could. “So… we’re okay?”
“Yeah.” He nodded, smiling at the question. “We’re okay, angel.”
“I… uh, I’d like to do that other part more often, too.” You confessed. He took a step towards you, wrapping you in a hug that expressed all he felt for you in his heart. He placed a kiss to your forehead, smiling against you at the thought of building a relationship with you. When he pulled away, he also took the time to fix the skirt of your dress. Then, he reached up and swiped away your smudged lipstick with his thumb. “Sex is great, but I really like spending time with you, too.”
“We can make that happen.” He promised, looking to you with an astounding amount of sincerity in his eyes. “I’m so sorry that I said that stuff to you. You didn’t deserve it, and I will do everything I can to make up for it.” He cupped your cheek in his hand.
“I’m sorry, too.” You leaned into the touch, closing your eyes for a moment to savour the innocent intimacy. “I didn’t want to hurt you, Jake. I don’t want to hurt you, ever.”
“I know,” he said, leaning down and placing a small kiss to your lips. Your heart fluttered and your stomach twisted with joy. Slowly, you began to overcome your fear, because you knew that even the scariest of things did not seem too bad with Jake by your side. “Did you… do you want to come and have a drink with us? I’m sure Josh is out of his mind with worry, now. He really likes you, and I think he’s been scared I was going to fuck it up.”
“Yeah,” you laughed, knowing he was right. “Do you want to come back to my house, tonight?”
“More than anything.” He nodded, the words rushing out of him with a long sigh of relief. “I’ll go and order us drinks. Meet me out there in a few minutes?”
“Yeah, of course.” You nodded, shooing him towards the door. The two of you had already been gone for a suspicious amount of time and you would hate for them to catch on to your act. Jake blew you a kiss as he stepped out the door, closing it gently behind him. You smiled, your cheeks dusting red as you swiped away any fallen mascara specs from under your eyes. You touched up your lipstick and combed your fingers through your hair, and by the time you looked presentable, you could safely leave the bathroom.
You walked out, first noticing Jake by the bar. You sent him a smile, trying to hide the excitement in your eyes as you approached him. It was strange feeling giddy over a grown man, like you were a middle schooler with an embarrassing crush. It was even stranger to know that it was not only reciprocated, but he felt the exact same way you did. You joined his side, smiling at Ray as he fixed your drinks. Jake tucked you safely under his arm, pulling you closer to him as his hand rested on your hip.
“Two double whiskeys.” Ray said, placing the glasses in front of you.
“Thanks darlin’.” You smiled, grabbing yours and taking a long sip out of it.
“Can you combine her tab with mine?” Jake asked, taking a drink from his own cup. You shot him a look protest but he paid you no mind. Ray gave a nod, looking to you as if to ask if everything was alright. You gave him a subtle nod, telling him all he needed to know.
“You head over, I just need to grab my jacket and stuff.” You told him, giving him a reassuring smile.
“Sure thing.” He said, letting his eyes linger over you before turning to join his brothers.
“So it all worked out?” Ray asked, watching you collect your belongings from your chair.
“Seems so.” You shrugged. “I guess things weren’t as bad as I thought they were.”
“Don’t let him break your heart, darlin’.” He said, collecting the empty glasses littering the counters. “You’re worth more than that.”
“I won’t.” You promised, slinging your jacket over your shoulder and holding your drink tightly. “Thanks for being there for me, Ray.”
“I’ve always got your back.” He promised. “I might be old, but I’ve still got fight left in me.” You laughed at his words, nodding in agreement. “Have fun, sweetheart.”
“You know I will!” You called, turning to face the booth that the boys were occupying. Jake was just reaching the table as you began to walk over to join, but he did not sit down. Instead, he seemed to freeze in his tracks and after a few seconds, sent a nervous look over his shoulder at you.
Fear gripped you, but you continued walking towards him in hopes that you were misreading his expression. When you reached the group, you gave a smile to Sam and Danny, but they seemed to have to force their own in return. When your eyes drifted to Josh, he was looking down at his hands settled into his lap. Then, your eyes settled on an unknown girl who was sitting next to Josh in the booth, who was also making quick work at ogling Jake. You swallowed your pride, looking to Jake in hopes of a quick answer or reassurance that this situation was nothing but innocent.
Before he could explain himself, the nameless blonde stood from the booth with a grin on her face, leaning forward without any hesitation and placed a kiss on Jake’s lips. In truth, Jake did not respond, but to you it seemed as if he did. Your eyes were deceiving you on behalf of your broken heart. He placed a stiff hand on her hip, but not in any attempt to draw her closer. He was silently trying to stop her from taking it any further. He was straight as a board, his muscles tense and trying in every way to exude his distaste for the greeting.
When he didn’t respond with enthusiasm, she pulled away and with intent to cover her own bruised ego, shot you a look of daggers. You watched the two, unsure of what was happening, and completely unwilling to find out. The only thing you could do was laugh, and even that came out awkward and painful. It seemed stuck in your throat as tears prickled your eyes.
“Y/n,” Jake warned, taking a step in your direction and completely disregarding the woman who seemed so intent to get his attention. “Please.” He whispered, no louder than a pin drop. He wanted to explain before your mind got the best of you, but your decision was already made. There was nothing he could say to make you feel better.
The real reason he invited his brothers to the bar finally surfaced, and the room was heavy with the weight of his mistake. He’d been so intent to know if you were at the bar waiting for someone else because he had shown up with the intent to entertain another woman. The question was not one of inquire, but an admission of guilt. He had not invited the blonde girl out because he was interested in anything she had to offer; he had invited her to that specific bar on that specific night because he knew you would be there, dressed up and drinking whiskey while you pretended to be interested in the football game playing on the television. He wanted you to see them together, and he was betting on you having a jealous streak. He thought if he could make you jealous, you’d run straight back into his arms.
What he was not expecting was your warm welcome when he’d arrived, nor did he ever think there would be a heartfelt apology. Maturity had lost him when you’d broken his heart, and he wanted to play dirty. He was so immersed in you while you two aired out your thoughts that he failed to remember the other girl who was on her way to meet him there. You always triumphed when it came to anything or anyone else, but this time, your effect on him had been fatal. He dug his own grave and as he stood amidst the chaos he caused, he worried that he sealed it forever.
You wanted to throw your drink in his face, or to scream until your throat was raw and no more sound could be made. You wanted to tell him every bad thing you were thinking and call him every terrible name you could imagine. Instead of any of that, you seemed frozen in place. Your fingers were clasped around your glass so tightly that it nearly shattered under the pressure. Your lips were glued together despite the insults begging to break free. Your eyes held fire but they were calm, which was even more dangerous. He broke your heart once already, but this time, he’d torn it to shreds and discarded it like it was nothing.
There was power in walking away, and it just so happened that walking was your favourite thing to do.
“Enjoy your date, Jacob.” Your words came out clearer and stronger than you thought they would. You feared the familiar crack in your voice would sell you out, but not even that seemed to want to surface. Maybe it was afraid of your consequential anger, too. Your skin felt like there was a million cuts littering the surface, stinging with every pulse of your heart and stretch of your body. Your nerves felt like they were doused in gasoline and he’d thrown a match your way, igniting you without a second thought. He took a step towards you, but you took a step back and shook your head, shutting down whatever idea was running through his mind. He could see the shine of sadness begin to glaze your irises, and he felt equivalent to the dirt on the bottom of your shoe.
“Just listen to me for a second.” He pleaded, knowing that everyone at the table was watching the circus as it unfolded. Horror was not a good enough description for how everyone was feeling, and nobody knew what to do. Worse than that, nobody knew what to expect. The boys were watching you as if you would explode at any second, and god knows you wanted to. But, you were stronger than that, and he didn’t deserve such a reaction.
“Listen to what? I don’t care.” You said, shaking your head. “I don’t care if she’s your girlfriend, or if you weren’t ever planning on seeing her again after tonight, and I don’t even care if she was leverage to hold over my head. I. Don’t. Care.” Your voice was dangerously quiet. Although everyone was sitting right there, they could not hear a word the two of you were saying over the noisy bar atmosphere.
“Don’t say that.”
“I don’t care who she is, I don’t care what you’re doing, and I don’t care about you.” Much similar to his own experience, the heartbreak had turned you vile. You wanted to say whatever you could to hurt him, and you were doing it without insults and profanities. “Every time I start to think that you might be different, or I start think you mean what you say, you prove me wrong. Every fucking time. I’m done, Jake.” With that, you turned on your heel and walked away.
For a moment, you considered leaving the bar, but you could not give him that much satisfaction. This was your bar, and nobody could take that away from you. You did feel reluctant about returning to your normal seat, knowing that you could not face Ray’s knowing stare and worried questions. Instead, you walked to the other end of the bar in the second bartenders section. You knew her, but not nearly as well as you knew Ray, and not nearly enough for her to show you any concern. You drank down the liquor in your cup, the burn achingly strong, yet not nearly enough to distract you from the sound of your own breaking heart.
You ordered another drink, feeling five sets of eyes lingering on the back of your head. Jake watched as you sat down, confused and hurt about your statement, yet knowing that he deserved it for trying to play such a childish game. He was pained to know he hurt you again, and he was pained to know that you would not respond to any attempts to apologize.
So, he did what he knew best, and he carried on as if you never hurt him at all. He snaked his arm around the other girls waist, giving a short apology for the confusion, and placed a lingering kiss on her lips. If you did not care, then neither did he. If he continued on, he thing that maybe you would be upset enough to confront him.
In that moment, the two of you meant nothing to each other.
Well, that’s what you were trying to convince yourselves, at least.
You were furious, wanting to go over there and blow up at him with every single insult you could think of, to hit him and scream and cry because he hurt you so badly. Instead, you allowed yourself to peek over your shoulder with just enough time to watch him kiss her. You felt like someone had just punched you in the stomach. The air was knocked from your lungs and you felt like you were going to be sick. His lips were locked with another girls while the remnants of his orgasm was still threatening to run down your thigh and yours was lingering on his chin.
That seemed to be the most sickening thought of all.
Jealousy flooded you, making your skin prickle with indignation. The next drink that was sat in front of you was gone almost as soon as it was placed there, and you decided it was best to order two at a time to keep up with the ache in your chest. You looked back over at him again, unable to resist the urge. You saw her laughing, flicking her hair over her shoulder as she smiled up at Jake. She was clinging on to whatever he was saying, clearly hoping he would take her to the bathroom and do the same to her as he did with you just moments before.
As you studied the scene, you knew that jealousy was not the correct term for what you were feeling. You were envious of the situation in the booth. You wanted to be wrapped around him, laughing at his jokes and making relationships with his brothers. You wanted what she had in that moment, and you wanted it with a fervor you’d never quite felt before. You could not call it jealousy, because you were not worried about her taking something that belonged to you. In truth, Jake was never yours. You had ensured that long before the night’s events unfolded. You could not be jealous about something that did not belong to you, and Jake did not and he never would.
Envy was a much better description, because quite frankly, you never would have what she did in that moment. You and Jake could not comprehend simplicity, nor could you find the courage to love each other openly. Even from the very beginning, you and Jake struggled. Whether it was bickering because you refuted your connection, or because you simply enjoyed the struggle, it had never been easy. You were green with envy over something you would never have, and what she seemed to be getting so easily. You were sick at the thought, and pained to know that you’d fallen hard enough to feel such devastating emotions.
You felt a tear slip down onto your cheek as you drowned your sorrows in whiskey. Sometimes, it seemed like your own personal holy water. Once the first tear fell, the floodgates opened and your cheeks were soaked with physical reminders of your own stupidity.
You were crying so hard that your shoulders were shaking with the heaves of your chest, and you could no longer see the glass that was held tightly in your hand.
Then, a gentle touch landed on your shoulder. It was unfamiliar, but comforting, and you felt like you knew who it was before you even turned around. His second hand landed on your other shoulder, and you leaned backwards into the touch until the back of your head landed on his chest. Once he knew you were going to be receptive of his touch, he wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly while you tried to swallow down your drowning sadness.
“Seems like you’ve been more than a girl who is a friend all along.” Josh hummed, his hold protective and his heart breaking for you.
“I’ve always been exceptionally good at lying to myself.” You rasped, raising a hand to wipe your cheeks clean.
“Mind if I sit?”
“It’s probably better if you don’t.” You sighed, sniffling away another sob.
“Well, I’ve always been exceptionally good at breaking the rules.” He shrugged, pulling out the chair beside you and taking a seat.
“That’s hard for me to believe.” You chuckled, looking over at him with puffy eyes and a red nose. You were in no state to be socializing, but he didn’t seem to care.
“You better believe it, mama.” He said, taking a sip of his own drink. You cocked your head to the side, a small smile stuck on your lips as you processed the pet name. “Penny for your thoughts?” He asked, pulling a coin from his pocket and tossing it down on the table. He seemed to be the beacon of light in the suffocating darkness. His jokes and bright smile soothed your sorrowful soul, and you wondered what it would be like to be friends with him forever. With Josh around, you had a hard time picturing any sadness at all.
“For you, it’s free.” You assured him. “And this is a quarter. I’m not that steep.” You slid the coin back towards him, watching as he stopped it with his finger. Instead of putting it back in his pocket, he tossed it in one of the tip jars sitting on the bar top.
“I’m honoured.” He gave you a grin, breathtaking and beautiful, but so different than his brothers. For twins, their differences were staggering. “He’s an idiot, you know.”
“To each their own.” You shrugged, picking up a shelled peanut from the dish in front of you for something to fidget with. “Has he been dating her the whole time?”
“Her? No.” He shook his head, almost laughing at the thought. “She was the first girl who was just a friend, but she wasn’t really much of a friend at all. More or less just a girl.” He explained, swirling the ice around his glass with his straw. “I think I ran into her the first weekend we moved here. She was sneaking out sometime in the morning, and of course, I had to introduce myself.”
“Don’t know why I’d expect any less.” You chuckled, recalling the first time you’d ever met him.
“Some people never change.” He smirked. “After that, I never saw her again. Which was fantastic, because I didn’t really like her all that much. Definitely not as much as I liked you.”
“That’s good.” You smiled, waiting for him to continue. You felt honoured that josh liked you as much as he did. He seemed protective of his brother, and rightfully so. You wondered why he thought you were so good for him when all you ever seemed to do was cause Jake pain.
“I met a few girls after that, but they never stuck around. You, though? I could see it in his eyes that day. He never wanted you leave.” He leaned back in his seat, seeming like he was racking his brain for the best way to explain himself. “Usually, the girls leave before he even bothers to get out of bed. Then, he started talking about you all of the time, and I realized that this was more than just a drunken accident. When he wanted us to meet you, I knew he was head over heels.”
“He’s got a funny way of showing it.” You replied, your distaste for his actions clear in your face. “But, I guess I’m not the best at it, either.”
“I never said he was good at showing it.” He laughed. “I love him, but it doesn’t mean I always have to agree with him.”
“True.” You nodded in agreement.
“I think I had a sneaking suspicion that something was wrong when he came home last weekend and slammed his door hard enough to shake the building and then locked himself in his apartment for days. Maybe you and I were both trying to pry some information out of each other, earlier.”
“Sorry about that.” You buried your red cheeks in your glass as you swallowed the liquid down, ashamed of your actions.
“Don’t be, ‘cause I was doing it, too.” He said, admitting to his own guilt. “You don’t have to tell me about that if you don’t want to, but I’m all ears if you need it.”
“I’m the classic sob story, Josh.” You leaned forward, signalling to the bartender to make you another drink. She gave a thumbs up in response. “Divorcée, dead dad, a knack for self punishment and a plethora of commitment issues.”
“Wouldn’t call that classic. You’ve got quite the collection of pain.” He laughed, finding your blunt statement humorous. “Is that why you were so strict on being friends?”
“Yeah, I don’t do the whole dating thing. Divorce usually does that to a person.” You joked, dumping the last of your ice into your new drink and handing the empty to the bartender. “When I met Jake, I was pretty clear about that, but there’s something about him, I guess.”
“And about you, too.” He reminded.
“I thought Jake was on the same page, but we both seemed to blur the lines. We spent so much time together that it would be more strange for us not to fall in love.” You explained. “When he confessed that he had feelings for me, I panicked. I know I shouldn’t have, but I just don’t think I was ready for anything to change. I hurt him, he hurt me, and neither of us were mature enough to apologize.”
“Until tonight.” He corrected.
“Yeah, but then he invited Barbie to drink with you guys.” You grumped, trying to fake cheerfulness as you said the nickname you’d pinned on her.
“May I add some insight?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. You caught his gaze, silently giving him permission to do so. “I don’t think he wanted Barbie to drink with us. I think he wanted you to drink with us, but he didn’t know how to ask. He invited her to piss you off, and that was before you guys talked it out.”
“He sure did piss me off, but he hurt me pretty badly, too.”
“I know, and I’m not defending him.” He wanted to make that abundantly clear. “He’s in love, and love makes him stupid. He doesn’t know how to deal with getting hurt, so he just… doesn’t. Or, he acts like a jerk.”
“You seem to know him pretty well.”
“We didn’t share a womb for nothing.” He grinned. “He’s my twin, but he’s also my best friend. I’ve been there through everything, and I’ve seen it all.”
“So you’re not just a brother of the twin kind, you’re also a friend that is considered the best.” You noted, tipsiness radiating from your statement. You liked the banter that always seemed plentiful between the two of you. It reminded you of your own sister.
“What do you think? Do I make a good friend?” He watched you closely as he waited for an answer. After a moment, you nodded.
“A great one, even.” He smiled at your words and you could not seem to ignore the blush of his cheeks.
“I’m not telling you to go back to him, or to forgive him. Although I would very much like for the two of you to be together, sometimes things just don’t work out. Jake’s a lover by nature, even if he tries to pretend he isn’t, and I know he’s cursing himself as he sits there beside her and not you.”
“Lover by nature?” You inquired, now oddly curious about his life. That was something you never would have pegged him for.
“Oh yeah,” Josh chuckled, the liquor clearly getting the best of him. “He loves to love, and he’s as loyal as a dog. When his last girlfriend broke his heart, he tried to put on this tough act and pretend that love wasn’t his thing. He did the hookups and the failed talking stages, and I think for a while he convinced himself he was truly happy with it. When he met you, I think he realized that happy was the exact opposite of how he’s been feeling for the last year or so.”
“She hurt him pretty bad, eh?” You asked, recalling the pained expression in Jake’s eye the last night you had all went to the bar together.
“That doesn’t even scratch the surface.” He grimaced. “I hated seeing him sad, but I was so happy that he actually left her for good.”
“I wouldn’t hurt him like that.” You didn’t even realize the words that slipped past your lips until it was too late. Josh gave you a sympathetic smile as you scolded yourself for letting such a thing slip.
“I know, mama.” He said, the sincerity in his voice astounding. “Why do you think I like you so much?” Your cheeks turned red at his comment, and you gave him a smile.
“I like you too, Josh.” You mumbled. “Thanks for talking to me. I feel a lot better.”
“I’m glad,” he said, looking past you and over at the pool tables. Sam and Danny seemed to be caught in a game that was headed nowhere. As he did so, you looked back at the booth where Jake was sat with the bubbly blonde. He had moved to the opposite side of the table, presumably so he could get a clear view of you and Josh. When you caught his eye that seemed to be glued to the pair of you, your suspicions were confirmed. You did not hold his gaze, nor did you signal that you even noticed him looking. Instead, you stood and brought Josh into a hug, thanking him for caring enough to check on you.
Envy was not a strong enough word to describe what washed over Jake. Yes, he wished he could be the one that your arms were wrapped around and yes, he desperately wanted to be the person who was listening to the tellings of your heart. More than that, he was furious that Josh thought he had the right to be that person for you, and he was broken at the idea of you allowing him to be. He was reaping the consequences of his own actions, and there was nothing he could do but suffer the wrath of the devil for the sins he had committed.
As you pulled away from Josh, you looked back to the booth and saw Jake leaning over the table to capture his date in a kiss. Your stomach twisted with disgust, and you felt frozen in place. The two of you were caught in a game of pain, but you weren’t even aware you were playing. You did not speak to Josh in hopes of upsetting Jake, but he was kissing her in hopes of hurting you. If you had to admit it, he was doing a fantastic job. Your pain was so loud that you barely heard Josh ask you to join them in playing a game of pool.
When he asked a second time, you mustered a nod as you fought back the urge to vomit. He led you towards the table, but your eyes could not seem to stray from the disturbing scene before you. Jake was fighting a battle that he did not need to fight at all. You had no idea what point he was trying to prove, and no idea why he had the sudden urge to stray further from the love you two were trying to rekindle. As you picked up a pool cue, you decided you did not care. When you lined up the first shot, you both knew you had already won.
He was like poison, drawing you in and burning you with every touch. You loved him so deeply even if you knew he was killing you, and it drove you crazy enough that you would even cause him harm just to hear your name on his lips. You couldn’t bear the thought of not having him, but having him too close always drove you to a bittersweet end. You knew it was time to give him up, but you did not know if you could do that at all. For certain, you knew you could not do it without one last fight.
Even as you tried to convince yourself that you did not care about his actions, the color green was bleeding from the walls. The haze of smog in the room had an emerald hue, and the green velvet of the pool table reflected exactly how your heart was feeling. You were certain that if you looked in a mirror, your skin would be following suit, too. Envy was written all over you, stemming from the unnamed blonde who was wrapped around Jake like he belonged to her. It also grew from the knowledge that Jake was letting her, as if he never had a promise to come home with you at all. You might not have seen it, but when it came to belonging, his heart only lied with you. He was yours, even if he could not express it properly.
What you didn’t see was the green vines that were tangling themselves around Jake’s body, slowly strangling the life out of him as his own envy took hold. He watched as you laughed with his brothers, drinking and carefree while you shot at the balls scattered across the pool table. He wished he could have what they did in that moment; you, with a smile on your face and a laugh stuck on your lips. He wanted you, and everything you had to offer, and he felt like an idiot for letting you walk away this time. He did not want to be in the booth with the girl that meant so little to him, and he did not want his lips on anyone but you. His regret was paralyzing, but his pride stopped him from apologizing yet again.
You were both dying as you stood, and suffering as you watched. Both of you had the power to change, but so much sin had infiltrated your lives that doing the right thing no longer mattered. Any moral, and any idea of right and wrong no longer existed, replaced with wicked evil and blind obedience to a higher power that would ultimately take your life. The devil watched as the two of you sealed your fate, laughing loudly as you walked yourselves into his trap. With one more deadly sin to go, he wondered if the two of you would ever realize your wrongdoing before it was ultimately too late.
The only question that remained was one of fate. How much sin could you commit before punishment was due? You were two people who had been sentenced to a lifetime of imprisonment at the hands of your own godless morale, and you were so blind to your own stupidity that you had not even gone searching for salvation. Better yet, you had not even realized that you were in need of it. When the time came and you were ready to repent, the church would turn you away and laugh in your face.
Religion never seems important until you’ve engaged in so much sin that salvation is no longer an option.
~
you guys didn’t really think I’d be nice enough to let them stay together, especially with wrath as the last chapter? love you 🫶🏻😉
TAGLIST:
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wosohermosoo · 2 years
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Movie Watching (18+, minors DNI)
Joseph Quinn x Female Reader
Warnings: Smut, swearing, fingering, fluff, heavy petting
~~~~~~
Im sat between Joe’s legs, my back comfortably pressed into his torso. He had his hand draped over my shoulder, the other held securely round my waist.
We were watching a movie in Joe’s apartment, something we did quite often. The light from the tv flickering around the room every so often as we watch contently. I was in one of Joe’s tshirts - one that I had stolen after a shower - with just some panties underneath, Joe in just his boxers.
Me and Joe had been together for a while now and I felt completely comfortable and content as I lift a knee up, the shirt dropping from across my thighs and gathering at my hips.
Joes breath fans at my cheeks as the hand from around my waist slowly pushes my knee to the side, so that my legs were spread. “I cant see the tv” He chuckles. “Sorry.” I apologise, his wrist now delicately resting across my covered private parts as we continue to watch the film in a snug position.
Although having his wrist resting against me was a completely innocent thing, I couldn’t help but feel just a little bit turned on by the fact this his hand was was practically on my heat, just enough to make me clench at the thought. The thoughts I was thinking we’re enough to divert my attention from the film, my mind being taken over completely by the nasty things I’d love for his hand to be doing instead. I clench abruptly, knocking me out of my thoughts and i focus back on the tv. A short noise of amusement arose from the back of Joe’s throat. Although I thought it would have gone a miss, he must have felt the dirty clench against his wrist as he brings his hand up slightly to cup my heat, his fingers circling slowly across my covered clit.
I focus on the tv, trying to make an understanding of the small sections of information that I had missed whilst being pent up in my own thoughts. His fingers grazing along my covered folds, massaging me gently, before leaving a soft lingering peck against my cheek.
“You okay?” He asks, still manoeuvring his fingers in slow light circles.
“Mhmm” I hum in reply. I was undeniably turned on. Even that small bit of contact, although it wasn’t skin to skin, made me so incredibly horny.
“You sure?..” He trails off. I can sense the smirk through the way he was speaking, his breath fanning against my neck as he waits for my reply, adding slightly more pressure to my clit. I let out a short soft moan, and he lifts his head. I hear his lips contort in my ear which was what I could only assume was a smile.
Joes hand diverts to the waistband of my underwear, slipping under and back onto my clit with one swift motion. Feeling the coldness of his fingers against my skin made my head tilt back against his collarbones in pleasure. “Relax, focus on the film” whispers, before continuing to tend to my arousal.
His fingers glide across my folds underneath my underwear, collecting the juices that had very quickly appeared.
“Jesus” He breathes out. His hand caresses my heat, slowly but surely working me through my pleasure as we continue to watch the tv. I could feel his heart thudding against my back, the obvious bulge poking gently into the very bottom of my spine, both making me all the more turned on. I let out another soft moan, unable to stay focussed on what we were watching and I hear Joe chuckle deeply from behind me.
“Does that feel good?” He asks, a lustful smirk plastered on his face.
“Mm” I hum out in response, earning another little chuckle.
“What if I were to…” He trails off, using his fingers to confidently caress my hole, before slowly slipping them in and curling them towards us. Soft moans slipped from my mouth, my chest arising slightly more aggressively than usual as he starts to move his fingers inside me. The sound of my wetness coating his fingers echoing out from below my waistband.
The arm that was draped over my neck is lifted from around me, sliding around my waist to mimic the other, only slipping underneath my shirt to cup my breast. He gives in a harsh squeeze, using his thumb and index finger to gently pinch at my nipple while his teeth graze into the skin on my neck.
“Joe” I gasp out in pleasure as my hips buck against his hand. He says nothing in reply, taking the way I was reacting as an invite to continue working his magic.
After giving my other breast a quick rough squeeze, his hand moves down to my clit, rubbing quick harsh circles against me with three of his fingers as his other hand continues to thrust and curl the others in and out of my hole. My back arches in pleasure, heavy continuous moans filling the room, masking themselves with the low background noise from the tv. I glance down at Joes hands working their way in a rough but delightful pace, a deep groan from the back of his throat vibrating through my body as I feel his cock pulsate a little from behind me. He loved pleasing me - He loved making me feel good.
My head rolls back giving him a perfect view of what he was doing, his chin resting comfortably on my shoulder before his teeth sink into the skin of my neck, leaving sensationally sore marks and making my walls clench around his digits.
“Goddd” He growls as my hips begin to roll against his hand.
“Joseph” I moan out, earning another growl - a dirty, dirty growl. He loved it when I called him by his full name. His fingers worked wonderfully inside me, curling up and hitting my g spot over and over again. He knew exactly how to please me. I feel my walls clench harshly a few times, only making the tips of his fingers imprint harsher against my spot. I grip onto his thighs as my legs begin to shake.
He decreases his speed, knowing full well how close I am and removes his fingers from inside me, his other hand delicately circling my clit at a painfully slow pace. Im taken slightly by surprise when Joe swiftly places his fingers in my mouth, almost forcing me to taste his achievement. I suck on his fingers, a small grin plastered on my worn out face. I was SO close, so the sudden loss of contact made me incredibly frustrated. I move my hand down attempting to finish myself off before it’s swatted away with a tut.
“C’mere.” He says pushing my knee up and over so that I was somewhat laying on my side. “Turn around” He says abruptly.
I turn around to face him, watching him very quickly remove his boxers. I watch his incredibly hard cock spring free, precum glistening under the deep blue flicker from the tv. He watches me impatiently, grabbing onto my hip as I straddle him, his other hand wrapped securely around the base of his cock, stroking up and down a few times before he pulls my panties to the side. “You are going to be the death of me” He says breathily as he guides me down onto his painfully hard erection, my own arousal allowing me to slip down comfortably, letting out a soft moan at the feeling of him instantly bottoming out inside me.
“Fuckkk” Joe groans out, “ride me” he commands, watching me intently as I begin to move on top of him.
I place my hands against his chest, my fingertips grazing against the small tuft of chest hair as I lazily grind up and down on top of him, short pleasured grunts slipping his lips every few seconds. He gripped both of my hips roughly as he guides me up and down, scanning my features as his lips part in pleasure. “Thats my girl, you feel so fucking good” he coos, as he practically lifts me up and down on top of him. I was trying so incredibly hard not to allow myself to cum, and Joe knew that, his hands slipping down to secure my shaking thighs before they wander up my shirt and up my back stopping just on the back of my shoulders as he places his lips on mine.
I almost instantly open my mouth, giving full access for his tongue to do what it pleased against mine, twirling around my mouth as he deepens the kiss. I was more or less stationary on top of him, but he didn’t mind, he knew that one little swipe of his tip against my g spot would send me completely over the edge. Joe groans lustfully into my mouth as our lips dance in unison, nibbling down on my lip as one of his hands come round under my shirt to squeeze at my bare breast, gripping my nipple between his fingers before slipping back to my shoulders blade as he pulls me flat against him. I feel him reposition his body slightly underneath me, his feet now flat on the floor as he holds me securely in his arms in a tight embrace before he begins to thrust shallowly inside me.
“You okay?” He asks, hearing my noticeably shaky moans as my head rests gently on his shoulder. “Hm?” He encourages as I nod with a sharp exhale.
“Yes” I nod before Joe very abruptly starts to thrust deeper inside me. “Cum for me, baby” He says in the filthiest tone, causing my walls to clench around him.
His feet placed securely on the floor gave him the ability to buck his hips against me with such a passionate force, the sounds of our moans and arousal filling the room as well as the aggressive noise of Joe’s thighs slapping against the backs of mine.
His hands trail down to my ass and he grips on to both cheeks harshly, before gripping underneath my thighs, holding me up to give him more leeway and inevitably spreading my pussy lips just that tiny bit more. My legs shake aggressively, moaning out his name as my walls tighten around his pulsating cock and my eyes subconsciously roll back, feeling the strong orgasm approaching in the very pit of my stomach.
“Joseph” I moan out, filthy grunts booming down my ear as he continues to pound into me.
“God, y/n” He growls, nipping down on my shoulder and leaving a deep red mark as he begins to feel himself get closer. “Cum for me” he mumbles against my skin.
With that I feel an exhilarating wave of pleasure undo from down below and my orgasm takes over. My legs shake uncontrollably as I hear him moan out in pleasure, unable to hold himself back any longer from releasing and the both of us cumming together. He continues to hold me up as he thrusts sloppily into me, groaning out in satisfaction as the both of our juices seep out of me and gather at the base of his cock.
“Jesus, y/n” He breathes out letting me drop down onto him, feeling the both of us pulsate together as we come down from our high. Our staggered breaths and beating hearts mixing in unison.
I lift myself off of him, planting a soft lingering peck on his lips as he glances down at where I was just sat. “God, we’ve made a fucking mess” He chuckles as he runs his hand over his face in exhaustion. Joe stares up at me as I stand up lazily, my t shirt falling back down to my thighs to cover my swollen and used area. I glance over at the tv, the credits for the film that we had accidentally missed flying down the screen as the end music plays. I take the remote and turn the tv off before taking Joe’s hand. His cock still somewhat erect as he comes down from his orgasm.
“Come on” I giggle, “lets get ourselves cleaned up” I say has I walk him towards the shower.
“We both know this’ll end up with you moaning my name up against the shower wall” He chuckles as he follows me out of the room.
~~~~~~~
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nahoney22 · 2 years
Note
Love your writing! Do you take requests? If so, I would love an Echo x reader (fluff only), maybe where Echo sees the reader is having a bad day and comes to comfort her, confessing his feelings by accident.
Comforting Confessions
Echo X F!reader
word count: 1k
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When things seemed to go bad to worse for you, your best friend comes to your aid and in the meantime, maybe let something slip on his behalf.
warnings: SFW, echo has a crush on reader, little bit of angst as reader is emotional, comfort, mostly fluff. Reader is female. Short and fluffy. Cuddles.
authors note: apologies for the delay anon, I hope you enjoy and I’ll assume you wanted female reader. 💜
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As the Havoc traveled into the next star system, the air inside the ship was abnormally tense, despite the usual good vibes, laughter, and love. Everybody could pinpoint the source of the tension and yet nobody was willing to confront it, except for Echo.
"Where is she?" Echo's voice rang out as he strode into the cockpit, causing Hunter, who was twirling his viroblade around his fingers, to glance up at his brother.
Echo didn't even have to say your name, as the source of such joy had vanished from view. "I saw her head towards the bunks," Hunter sheathed his blade and crossed his arms over his chest, "Do you have any idea what's bothering her?"
Echo heaved a sigh and shook his head, resenting this sudden shift in the atmosphere. "No, I don't."
"Well," Hunter somewhat chuckled despite the situation, "if she needs to confide in anyone, it would be you." For a moment, Echo tensed up, his eyes widening.
"What makes you say that?" He muttered too quickly for his liking, eliciting an amused expression from the Sergeant, followed by a shake of his head.
"Nothing, just go talk to her. Let's raise the spirits in here, shall we?" Hunter patted Echo's shoulder before disappearing, prompting Echo to make his way towards the vague direction of where you might be.
As expected, you were sat on your bunk, legs hung over the side but as he approached he saw that your eyes were closed yet you were awake.
As he opened his mouth to speak, he quickly realized that he didn't want to disturb your quiet contemplation. Instead, he quietly took a seat beside you, hoping to offer a comforting presence.
There was no mistaking in your mind who had joined you on your bunk, the presence being very obvious to you. Though, you remain quiet despite the small smile that flickered on your lips at the silent gesture from him.
Eventually, you speak which caused Echo to jolt just a tad at the broken silence. “Hello, Echo.”
He raised a brow but smiled warmly at you. “Hey, how’d you know it was me?”
You chew on the inside of your cheek and sneak a glance at him through one eye before shrugging playfully. “Just a hunch.”
Echo analyzes your face and despite the smile you were given him, it was not at all like the ones you would usually give him. It seemed forced and the light in your eyes had gone. “What’s the matter?”
“It…” you were ready to tell him what was on your mind but it was like someone had covered your mouth, silencing your woes, “doesn’t matter.”
Echo frowns at your answer and was determined to not take your response as final. “It does to me.”
You're surprised to feel Echo place his hand under your chin, lifting your head that you just dropped to stare at your lap and instead divert your gaze to his. The touch was new and so were the tingles that ran down your arms as his warm eyes gazed down into yours. “Tell me.” He whispers, almost afraid that if he spoke too loud it’d make you recoil.
“I’m just feeling a little low is all,” you admit, the silent demons in your mind now at the forefront of your thoughts, “just having one of those days. I don’t like bothering people with my trivial issues.”
“So that’s why you came back here?” He gestures to the bunks, his hand dropping from your chin that he slowly flexes as your warmth still lingers.
“Yeah, I guess. Sorry if it’s made any of you feel awkward.” You apologise quickly, panicking that your low mood reflected on the others to which, it kind of did but Echo wasn’t going to tell you that.
Idly, he shifts a little closer to you and sincerely hoped that his leg brushing by yours didn’t put you off but since you didn’t react, he kept it there. He just thought that maybe a little bit of comfort and closeness would lift your mood and slowly, it was. “We’re not uncomfortable nor would we ever be if you’re sad.” He tells you sternly, not once breaking his gaze from you. “I adore you- I mean ‘we’!”
Your eyes wide and you quickly look up at him, searching his face to see if his words were a mistake or not. His brow instantly started to sweat and a deep heat of a blush rose up his cheeks from his neck. “Really?” You ask.
Echo stills, heart racing that he may have just let slip his real and true feelings to you. Your question has his mind reeling, uncertain if you were gesturing to him adoring you or the group as a collective. He takes a breath, collecting himself before nodding. “Yes.”
Your smile reaches your eyes this time and an amused glint sparkles in your gaze. “You do?”
Echo’s breathing was slightly ragged, your eyes always doing something to him and judging by your pleaser reaction he gathered his courage. "Yes," he said, looking you directly in the eyes. "I adore you."
Elated by his comforting confession you lean towards him and rest your cheek against his chest whilst wrapping your arms around him. “Thank you. You’ve always been kind to me.”
Echo relaxes, resting his scomp and hand on your back, rubbing soothing circles. “Of course I am. Is it not obvious you’re my favorite?” He teased you, your laughter loud and bright which was just what the ship had missed.
“Hmm, maybe.” You reply, closing your eyes as you settle into the warm embrace of Echo.
You had cuddled with him like this before and although he insisted he would be uncomfortable to lay against due to his prosthetics, you find yourself thinking the opposite. And the fact that Echo had confessed something rather big to you? It made this hug even better. Your demons were being punched away one by one and although you didn’t say you adored him too, he already knew..
“Now tell me,” Echo says softly, smiling down at you as he admires your beauty, “what’s got you feeling low, beautiful?”
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Masterlist
More Echo Works
tags: @nunanuggets @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @cwarssimp @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka @oohyesplease @megafrost4 @theroguesully @equalityforcats @mustluvecho @misogirl828 @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @chxpsi @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @rain-on-kamino @either-madness-or-brilliance @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @autumnleaves1991-blog @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @rintheemolion @seriowan @agenteliix @kaminocasey @hotpinkplastoid @imalovernotahater r @whore4rex x @imperialclaw801 @swiftiexstarwarssimp @the-good-shittt @photogirl894 @s1st3r @taskfork-archive @by-the-primes
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planetpiastri · 2 years
Note
I know v-day is soon but if you want to write something before that, I would love 37 from the meet cutes, with bob :)
anon, this is so cute that im using it as the formal start to the prompt party. enjoy!! | join my prompt party!
37. meeting at a fire alarm test, having to evacuate the building
word count - 1.2k
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This could not be happening. You hadn’t even lived in this new apartment building for a full week, and everything was already going wrong. First the plumbing busted and none of the toilets would flush; then the fridge broke and all of your produce went bad before your super could get someone out to fix it; and just when you thought things would even out, the whole fifth and sixth floor’s air conditioning had broken.
To cap it all off, after three days of sweating bullets in the blistering summer heat, the fire alarm was going off.
Footsteps thundered overhead as the whole building moved to evacuate. As you slipped out your front door, you saw people flooding the stairs, many holding dogs by the collar or clutching their cats tight to their chests as they ran. A few younger tenants stood in their doorways coolly, nursing cigarettes or joints, or else with their hands deep in chip bags, like there wasn’t a blaring siren going off overhead, their presence serving to remind you just how cheap your rent was.
You brushed past these jaded late-teens-early-twenty-somethings and shoved your keys and your wallet into your pockets, realizing too late that you’d left your phone on the counter upstairs. Trying to go back for it would be like trying to swim upstream at the Rushing Rapids, so you just let yourself get swept away with the crowd.
As you reached the floor below you, the door marked 504 swung open and a man stepped out, quickly pulling on a yellow tee shirt over black athletic shorts and flip-flops. With one glance, you knew his air unit was busted, too. There was a thin sheen of sweat across his face, and his cheeks were rosy-pink. With another glance, you worried that something other than the broken heating might be responsible for the warmth flooding your face.
“Oh, sorry,” he said quietly as the two of you nearly collided, easily falling in place behind you. His hand brushed your shoulder as you walked, sending chills down your back, and you found it endlessly endearing that he’d chosen to touch your shoulder instead of your waist or lower back, like most guys in the building would have done.
Unfortunately, descending the building stairs, surrounded by your sweaty neighbors, didn’t give you much of a chance to do anything but smile nervously at him. You were moving again, painfully aware of the fact that he was right behind you and you were wearing the skimpiest tank top and shorts you owned in an attempt to fight off the heat. The alarm overhead continued to blare rhythmically, fading to a background drone as you moved steadily downwards.
The stairs finally spilled out into the foyer and you followed the mob out onto the front pavement of the complex. All sorts of different people milled about, talking on phones or conversing with their neighbors. Once again, you wished you’d remembered to grab your phone before you left. Now you were stuck awkwardly standing on the pavement in sandals, showing far more skin than you’d usually feel comfortable with outside of your apartment.
A ways off, the man in the yellow shirt was standing on the edge of the sidewalk, his brow furrowed as he typed on his phone. As you watched, he absently reached up to push his glasses back up from where they’d slipped down his sweat-slick nose. He ran his hand through his hair, not paying attention, and then grabbed the front of his shirt, fluttering it to try and cool down. 
Almost like he could sense you, he lifted his head and made direct eye contact with you. You quickly turned back to face the building, your cheeks burning, hoping maybe he hadn’t noticed the way you’d very, very obviously been watching him—not even watching, you’d been straight-up ogling—
“Hey.”
Shit.
“Hi,” you said, turning to face him with an apologetic grimace.
You weren’t sure what to expect from him—maybe a confused glance, or an inquiry as to why you’d been staring. But he had a pleasantly neutral smile on his face, and he was passing his phone back and forth in his hands like he didn’t want to keep them still. When he spoke, it was a question. “Are you new?”
“Is it that obvious?” you asked with a wince.
He shook his head, still smiling gently. “No, that’s not what I mean. I just haven’t seen you before.” He gestured around the tenants milling around. “This is a pretty regular occurrence.”
“What, the building catches on fire?” you said before you could stop yourself.
The man chuckled, dropping his head as he did, like he was nervous to make eye contact. “No,” he said. “It’s an alarm test. Legally, they have to do one every six months, but the alarm’s been broken for…well, as long as I’ve lived here. So it goes off randomly every month.”
“And everyone obeys it anyways?” You glanced around skeptically, having a newfound surprise for the amount of people stuck outside right now.
He shrugged. “They jack up your rent for the month if you don’t do the practice. Apparently back in the ‘80s something happened where there was a real fire and people didn’t evacuate because they thought it was just a drill.”
You chewed on the inside of your cheek, glancing up at the old building. “I really picked a winner,” you murmured.
“It’s not all bad,” he said quickly, looking at you with wide, blue eyes. “I mean—the people are nice.”
You gave him another once-over, smiling a bit. “So far, I’d have to agree.”
His cheeks, which were still flushed from the heat, turned a shade darker and he dropped his eyes again. You felt a little proud of that.
“I’m Bob,” he said.
“Nice to meet you, Bob,” you said, introducing yourself. Then you said, “Your heating’s broken, too, right?”
He exhaled heavily. “Yeah. Debbie downstairs has been letting me borrow her box fan, but it’s pretty rough, as you can see.” He gestured down at his slapdash outfit.
You chuckled a little, nodding and gesturing at your own clothes. “How long do these usually last?” you asked.
Bob shrugged. “Anywhere from fifteen minutes to two hours, depending on how quick they can fix the alarm again. The fire department is gonna show up pretty soon and yell at the super, and then they’ll give us the all-clear. But nothing to do until then but kill time.”
You considered this, stepping out to get a look down the street. A few bodegas and small shops lined the sidewalks, but one place in particular caught your eye. Turning back to your neighbor, you said, “Do you want to go grab an ice cream while we wait, Bob? It’ll probably cool us down better than Debbie’s box fan.”
“R-really?” said Bob, blinking at you in surprise. His whole body stilled, like the nervous energy had fled, but he quickly broke into a smile and said, “Yeah. Yes! Yes, okay. Sure. That sounds nice.”
“Come on, then,” you said, and began to lead the way towards the ice cream parlor. And if you were tempted to hold his hand on the walk back, you kept that to yourself. And if Bob walked you all the way back to your apartment and gave you his number, that was entirely his own decision. And if you fell into bed that night with all your windows thrown open to try and clear out the muggy heat, a giddy smile on your cheeks and a newfound fondness for this apartment building in your heart, well… that was just between you and the night air.
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sallow-tales · 1 year
Text
Strong and Sweet – Garreth Weasley x GN!Reader
Summary: Modern coffee shop AU; The ever lovely Garreth Weasley catches your eye from behind the counter of your local cafe. Pure fluff.
A/n: Once I got this idea into my head, it would not leave, so here we are. It's been edited, but only lightly. This is genuinely the longest fic I've ever written, I'm usually a sucker for short and sweet, but not in this case. I'm pretty sure this is gender neutral, but once again let me know if you catch a mistake. Also, the topic of the paper is incredibly self indulgent. With love, your friendly neighborhood anthro major <3
Word Count: 2897
You let out a sigh, fingers pressing almost painfully to your temples as you stared at the screen in front of you. You’d been trying to write this damned essay for hours, but the words didn’t seem to want to get out of your brain and onto the page. Not to mention that nearly every potential source you found was useless to you for one reason or another. 
The article currently open on your computer began to swim in front of your eyes, words blurring together as you tried to read them. As much as you wished you could take a break, you’d procrastinated this paper for far longer than you should have, and you were now to the point of questioning if you’d even be able to get it done before the due date. The due date, you realized, that was now only six hours away. Why’d your professor have to be special and make things due at 10pm on a Tuesday, instead of midnight on a Sunday like a normal person?
Dragging yourself out of your train of thought took more effort than you’d have liked as you once again tried to read through someone else’s science. You were slightly more successful this time, but once you’d gotten through the next three paragraphs, you let out a frustrated groan. There was no sense to this study–it ignored nearly all precedent and was trying to test a theory that anyone with common sense would know to be impossible. 
You slammed your computer shut in mild frustration and closed your eyes, taking a breath to calm yourself down, only for your meditation attempt to be interrupted by a familiar voice. 
“Careful now, doll. If you get much more frustrated you might start throwing things, and as much as I love having you here, I’d hate having to clean that up.” Your eyes open and you glance up to look at the redheaded boy standing over you
Your face relaxes as your gaze lands on him. You couldn’t be stressed when he was smiling at you like that.
The two of you had first met in this very coffee shop at the beginning of the term–him behind the register and you desperately needing some caffeine to get through your first week of classes.
“Give me something strong,” you’d said when you walked up, and he’d given you a playful salute in response.
“Yes ma’am, one americano coming right up.” 
His playful demeanor and charming smile had you grinning right back at him despite your exhaustion. When he’d handed you your drink, though, you couldn’t hide the grimace that crossed your face. You needed the caffeine, but boy did you hate the bitter taste that it left on your tongue.
“You should have told me you didn’t like it straight when I took your order.” You weren’t expecting to hear his voice and you looked back at him.
“I’m sorry?”
“You asked for something strong, but you didn’t have to take my first suggestion if you knew it wasn’t something you’d enjoy. Tell me what sorts of flavors you like and I can make you something you’ll actually drink.” You could tell he was eager to make you something new, though you weren’t sure if he actually wanted you to like it or if he just wanted to show off; either way, you rattled off your usual order, and some likes and dislikes, answering his questions when he asked and before you knew it you had a brand new cup in front of you.
This time when you took a sip, you practically moaned. It was spectacular. “How the hell did you do that? I don’t think I’ve ever had something this good in my life.”
His cheeky grin widened. “What can I say, I’m great at what I do. Though if you’d told me from the get-go that you like it strong and sweet, I could have just given you my number and been done with it.” His wink that followed sent flames through your cheeks and you’d turned your head to try and hide them.
Despite his flirtatious remark upon your initial meeting, nothing more had ever happened. Well, except for you developing one of the biggest crushes you think you’ve ever had in your entire life.
Against your better judgment (and to the chagrin of your wallet), you found yourself back in that cafe nearly every single day, always hoping to see his green eyes glittering at you from across the room. You knew the crush was stupid, but you didn’t blame yourself for it. How could you? It wasn’t your fault he was so ridiculously charming, and handsome, and kind. Nor was it your fault that he somehow always seemed to know exactly the drink you needed for your current mood–after that first day, you’d never had him hand you something unsavory again… well, at least that was intended to be enjoyable.
Every once in a while you’d come in during a particularly slow spell, when there was no one else around and Garreth–alongside his coworkers–were clearly extremely bored. It was days like these when you’d get to try his little experiments.
You’d see him furrow his brow, deep in thought, and then wander from place to place in the store, tossing various syrups, powders, and milks together in incredibly interesting combinations. Yes, interesting was definitely the word to describe them; sometimes they were spectacular, but other times… not so much.
“Oh my god, Gar, this is absolutely disgusting.” 
He had called you over a few moments prior, insisting you try his most recent mixture. You didn’t know what was in it, but it wasn’t good. It was almost slimy in texture, and the flavor certainly left something to be desired. Through your wince, you saw the twinkle in his eye. The bastard knew it wasn’t going to be good but he had you try it anyway.
Attempting to hide the grin that threatened to poke through, his face had twisted into a look of mock betrayal. “How could you say such a thing? I poured my heart and soul into this. You wound me, love.”
Your heart had nearly stopped at the nickname but you did your best to play it off, grinning at him. “Well, perhaps you should pour a little less of it next time, that might help with the texture issue.” He’d scoffed at you playfully, and the memory of his playful expression is still one of your favorites.
His expression was eerily similar as he stood beside your little table, eying the books you had spread about from your research. 
“Garreth! I didn’t realize you were here, I never saw you walk in.”
He chuckled. “I’ve been here for hours. I would’ve said hello earlier, but you looked focused and I didn’t want to bother you. However,” he paused, “it was about time for my break and I noticed you looked only inches away from violence, so I figured I should come intervene. Distract you with my relentless charm and all that.” His grin was contagious, and you found yourself smiling fondly at him.
“You should well know by now that I’m a pacifist,” you quipped back. “Violence would never be my first reaction. You wouldn’t have anything to worry about until after I’ve wallowed in self despair for at least 30 minutes.” He sat down in the chair opposite you and it’s not until he placed the cup and plate on the surface in front of you that you realized he’d been holding them. “What’s this?”
“A refill, and some sustenance. Figured you could use them, based on the fact that I haven’t seen you move in the entire time I’ve been here.” Your heart gives a little squeeze at the gesture as you take in the items. He had, in fact, brought you another coffee and the pastry that he by now knew to be your favorite.
“I can’t accept this, Garreth. I didn’t pay for them.”
“Don’t worry about it, it’s on the house. Don’t bother resisting, you know I won’t stop pestering you until you’ve eaten.” 
You relented with a sigh, taking a bite. “Happy now?” you mumbled.
He smirked at you. “Happier. Now, why don’t you tell me what’s frustrating you so much. Maybe clearing your mind of it will help you make some progress.”
You proceeded to rant to the ginger about the articles you’d been reading, the roadblocks you’d been encountering, and the various other issues you’d been having.
“I don’t know why it’s so difficult for people to have some common sense, y’know? It’s not so hard to realize ‘Hey, perhaps if you can’t sex an individual via this bone without population specific numbers, perhaps we shouldn’t try to sex an individual of an entirely different species.’ You’d think that’d be easy!” Garreth nodded along, a small smile playing at his lips. “And this one!” you gestured to an article on your computer, which you’d reopened part-way through your rant to show him evidence of your problems, “in this one, they try and argue that grave goods can be used to accurately sex an individual, which might be fine in some populations, but it’s a know fact that gender and sex variance is a common occurrence in this population.”
You finally paused to take a breath, and you realized that you didn’t really have much more to say. “And… and yeah that’s about it actually. There you have it.” You glanced up at his face, mildly surprised by the expression he harbored. It seemed to be a combination of amusement and… fondness?
“I do hope you know I don’t know what any of that means. Do you feel better though?” He rested his chin on his hand, hair falling just slightly in front of his face.
You immediately nodded in response. “Yeah, actually. Loads. Thanks.”
“My pleasure, love. Now, I do believe my break is over, so I should get back to it, but good luck on your paper. I believe in you.” A wink was sent in your direction before he turned and walked back behind the counter, deftly tying his apron behind his back.
With that, you dove back into writing. You were almost surprised at how much easier the words came to you now that you’d gotten all the swirling irritations out of your brain–before you knew it, you’d surpassed the page minimum, wrapped up all your thoughts, and read through it a few times to make sure there weren’t any errors. Thoroughly pleased with your work, you grinned and threw your hands up. “I’m done!” You turned your head around, searching for the smile Garreth was surely throwing in your direction. You weren’t surprised to find you were correct. “And with…” you turned back to check the time, “45 minutes to spare!”
Wait a second…
45 minutes to spare… that meant that it was 9:15. You turned to glare accusingly at Garreth.
“Don’t you guys close at 9?”
He shrugged noncommittally. “Technically, yeah. I was supposed to kick you out 15 minutes ago. But you looked so focused and I could tell you were close to done. I didn’t wanna be the reason you lost your stride. Besides,” his usual cocky grin came back to his face. “I’m not sure you could rob this place if you tried.”
The boy turned back to mopping the floor, ignoring your huffed “hey” in response. You began packing up your belongings in a hurry, trying to get out of his hair as quickly as possible. Despite your efforts, though, he had still managed to finish closing before you were completely ready to go. 
“I’m so sorry Gar, I really should have been paying closer attention to the time. I didn’t mean to be an imposition.” You rushed the words out as you exited the building in front of him. His only response at first was a small huff of amusement.
His words came a minute later as he turned back to lock the door to the building behind him. “As if you could ever be an imposition. Any time spent in your presence is time well spent.” You couldn’t even begin to process what those words meant as you took in the parking lot, empty except for one single car. A string of curses swiftly left your lips. If you’d thought yourself stupid earlier when you struggled to write your paper, it was nothing compared to how stupid you’d felt in that moment.
You’d completely forgotten that you’d taken the bus today. And in your time-blindness, you’d also forgotten that the bus stopped running at 8.
You glanced over at Garreth beside you, and let out a frustrated sigh at his barely concealed laughter. He knew that you sometimes took the bus, and by the lack of car in the parking lot belonging to you, it hadn’t taken him more than a moment to figure out what was going on.
“Don’t look so down, it’s not like I’d let you walk. Get in the car.” You immediately began protesting, not wanting to burden him any more than you already had this evening. “It wasn’t a question, get in the car. It’s too far back to campus for you to walk during the day, let alone at night. I’d be the world’s biggest asshole if I let a pretty individual walk home alone after dark. Get in.”
You conceded with a sigh, walking around to the passenger side door. “You think I’m pretty?” you grinned, trying to joke away the nerves you felt at getting in his car.
Sure, you’d become pretty close throughout the term, but your interactions had always, always been limited to that building. And now here you were, getting into a car with the guy you’d been crushing on for months. 
“If you’re just now noticing, then maybe you’re dumber than I gave you credit for,” came his snarky reply. He got in the car and grinned at you over the console. You hoped he couldn’t see your cheeks turn red in the dark. His gaze held yours for a beat too long and you looked away nervously. He cleared his throat before starting the car. “Where to?”
You directed him to your place, basking comfortably in the silence of the car in between instructions. Against your better efforts, though, you also found yourself staring at him. It was such an odd thing to find attractive, you thought, but the sight of him driving made your heart do a flip. 
You were admiring how his gentle features looked under the red of a stoplight when he turned to glance at you and caught you. “See something you like?” 
“And what if I do?” You replied, lips quirking into a smile. You had no idea where this bold streak came from, but you weren’t complaining. He didn’t reply immediately, focused on turning into the parking lot of your building. He parked, and then turned to you. 
“I’m less concerned about the ‘what if you do’s and more concerned about the ‘what if you don’t’s if I’m being honest.” Your face twisted slightly in confusion as you tried to decipher his meaning.
“I- what? I don’t understand.” Stumbling over your words, it took you far longer than it should have to realize how much closer he’d gotten to you. 
“What I mean,” he said lowly, his voice barely above a whisper, “is that if you don’t, you need to tell me now because otherwise I’m about to do something really really stupid.”
Oh. Oh.
“Oh,” you said in reply. “I see.” You wet your lips nervously but didn’t move away from him, your gaze flickering between his eyes and his lips. “Well, there’s not really a good way to know if it’s stupid or not until you’ve done it.”
Apparently that was all the approval he needed, because the next thing you knew his lips were on yours and his hand was cupping the back of your neck and a low whine sounded in the back of your throat. This was happening. Oh my god this was happening.
He pulled back after a moment, panting just slightly. He was nervous, you realized. You’d almost never seen him nervous before, but right now, in this moment, you were sure that’s what the expression on his face was. 
You let out a soft giggle that apparently eased his nerves, causing him to break out into a wide smile and tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Well, was it as stupid as I thought it was?”
“Verdict is still out,” you said with a grin. “I’ll have to let you know tomorrow. You work?” 
“Same time as usual, yeah.” He chuckled at the smile on your face as you unbuckled yourself from the car. 
“Well, I suppose I’ll have to let you know then. And maybe after you’re out, we could go get dinner or something. If the jury rules in your favor, that is.” You grin at him over your shoulder as you get out of the car.
The last thing Garreth sees as he pulls out of your lot is you pressing your fingers softly against your own lips, grinning like an idiot. And though he’d never admit it, in his head he was doing the same.
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munsonsreputation · 1 year
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#4 taylor x stranger things 🧣 - send me your character of choice and a taylor song and ill write a short imagine based on it!!!! (yes queen taylor gets her own prompt alright!!!! HAHAHAAH)
(i don't think you understand you hard i smiled when i saw this prompt) begin again (taylor's version) with steve!
hi cleo!!!!
so sorry this took so long, but i hope i was able to do this request justice!! i love the album red (tv, of course) and to me, begin again screams steve finding love again!! i wrote it in the pov of reader and i hope you love it!!!
thanks again for your request and support!!! 🧣🍂☕️📚
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The air was filled with warmth, wrapping you in the aroma of freshly ground coffee beans and the sweetness of the doughs baking in the ovens. They were a slight chatter over the customers dining in around you and making their orders at the registers, but you were too busy to notice all of that.
You were caught up in everything that was Steve Harrington. The dreamy boy from Hawkins sitting across from you in the cafe where you were nursing a latte while listening to him speak about Christmas movies he and his friends were planning to watch over the holidays.
Steve wasn’t what you had expected at all, especially for this meeting between you and him to be one of your first dates. In all honestly, you were predicting the usual awkward silence and vague conversation, all while he tried to flirt his way back to your place, but it was the complete opposite.
He had arrived early, already saving a table for the two of you. And when he saw you through the glass windows, approaching the shop, he immediately stood, waving hello and stretching your chair out as came over to him.
Talking to him wasn’t as nerve-racking as you’d thought it would be. If anything, it came smoothly, like second nature as you told him about the drive over where you heard James Taylor on the radio and how it reminded you of how the two met and stumbled upon this date in the first place.
You searching through endless stacks of records trying to find the very specific James Taylor album you needed to complete your collection.
After Steve had heard you talking to the owners of the store, he had found it in another section, misplaced by a previous customer. He approached you, carrying a smile as he handed over the vinyl and then struck up a conversation about music. And of course, not leaving before he asked you out on a date.
“You okay? Tired of hearing me talk about Christmas movies?” His ramble suddenly ceased with a laugh, noting the way your eyes were a bit glazed over, staring through him rather than at him.
You shook your head, snapping out of the slight daydream you found yourself falling into.
Smiling lightly, you offered a response, “No, please, enlighten me about Bruce Willis and the 40 stories of sheer adventure.” You half joked, seeing him chuckle by the way you were able to memorize the movie’s stupid catchphrase.
Taking a sip of your latte, you watched him shrug his shoulders, and advert his attention towards you, “Alright, enough about me, you alright? You seem a little shy.”
Not that it bothered him one bit considering that you were shy in the record store you two met in, but he was crossing his fingers that you weren’t regretting this date. That it was just the jitters and you would come out of your shell, eventually.
“Oh, I’m really fine. It’s just that this is my first date in a while, so y’know, don’t want to make a fool out of myself.” You told him with a light wince.
Steve shook his head knowingly, waving off that thought of yours, and instead offering you a soft expression as he leaned forward and rested his chin on his fist, looking at you.
“If it makes you feel any better, it’s been a while since I’ve been on a date, too…gotta tell you, I was a nervous wreck waiting here for you.” He tsked, tapping his fingers on the table as you rose a suspecting brow at him.
“Seriously! I thought you were gonna stand me up or something.” He looked away for a moment, shyly not meeting your eyes until he heard your laughter.
“Me?!” You giggled, throwing your head back as he nodding with a smile, tugging his lips up in a smile.
“Yes you! You’re beautiful and amazing and I don’t know what I did right to get a date with you.”
His words made you blush, tucking your cheek against your shoulder, feeling like a high schooler all over again with a schoolgirl crush.
Steve didn’t know how much it took for you to take a chance on a date with him. You weren’t really looking for a relationship, let alone a date, but you decided to jump in headfirst and just give it go.
And you were glad that you did because Steve was different in a lot of ways.
He didn’t comment on how your high heels made him feel short.
Or how he didn’t understand why you liked James Taylor’s music in the first place.
He didn’t understand why you thanked him profusely after he pulled out your chair for you, but you did.
You knew that relationships were never easy for you, but Steve made it feel like it could be that way.
“Steve, you don’t know how much I like you, and this is only our first date.” You declared softly, creeping your fingers closer to his hand across the table, yet not meeting his, petrified of his reply to your honesty.
He grinned, eyes flickering to your hands as he made the move to brush his fingers against yours, resting them snugly on top of one another before meeting his eyes to yours.
“I feel the exact same way.”
Steve had always thought that the feeling of infatuation was supposed to spark with pandemonium. The kind where it was obsessive and all over the place, but with you it felt peaceful. Sure, he was nervous asking you on a date and even waiting here for your arrival, but there was that underlying assurance of peace.
So for the first time in a long time, for you and Steve it felt like a new start.
One that you both could watch begin again.
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leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!!
taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @astolenkiss @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver
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crystallinestars · 4 months
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I saw the banner and it’s kinda relief that Kaveh isn’t pulling up with Haitham, even though the community I’m in is absolutely losing their marbles over this ahahah. Hopefully he will be with Nilou instead, I want them both 🙌🏻🙌🏻🙌🏻
Though OMG I saw one of the voice lines from new Sumeru guy Sethos regarding Haitham and Kaveh and the ship pandering that you’ve mentioned before, it’s so real 🙁 Like it’s along the lines of “Something about those two guys hanging out together, you just can’t look away.” Apparently the original CN line doesn’t even carry the same implication, like it focuses more on the fact that ah, these two famous people are hanging out and it’s eye-catching (?), iirc. For some reason English translator wanted it to look more sus ig. And the fandom is gobbling it up… haizzzz 🙄
I don’t know anymore honestly, when Mihoyo tosses the bait, the fandom will absolutely latch on to that stuff and make sure to rub it in everyone’s faces. “Ah, they are GAY for each other and everyone else who doesn’t feel the same way is WRONG” kind of thing. As far as I’ve seen, the only other ship whose fans get so insistent and up in arms about their ship and the sexuality HCs is a certain pair of Inazuman women (and even for these two idk if Mihoyo has baited as hard as they have for Haitham and Kaveh???). To many fans, close same-sex friendships are no longer viable; they must be kissing and getting hitched next week. And as usual, bisexual people do not exist in Hoyoverse fandom’s eyes. They’ve locked me out of Pride Month 🤣
Also, I was thinking about how pushy the fans could get and I wonder if it’s something that’s exclusive to the English-speaking fandom? IIRC I’ve also seen other nationalities such as the Indonesian fans who say that their part of fandom is not any better 😅 Cos I’m genuinely curious if the CN/JP/KR (or any other nationality) fans get so aggressive about ships, sexuality HCs, etc. I remember another anon mentioned how shipping as activism has become a thing and it seems like it’s really big among American fans in particular (and at this point, probably other anglophone fans).
I don’t even play HSR (cos no space on my device) but I’m just absolutely eating up the AvenStelle and AvenPaz feasts in lieu of what NL crumbs there are for Kaveh because hot DAMN Aventurine is just so fine. 😭 And Stelle, Topaz… they’re soooo pretty (it’s a digression but when I was at the con, many girls dressed as Stelle, and I observed that her fit looks good on pretty much everyone). I find it kinda interesting that even though Aventurine has a popular BL ship and a fandom that also likes to do the “he can’t be anything but gay because of his looks and personality” thing, he also has not just one but two popular NL ships. The tags for both on Twitter are alive and kicking, compared to if you go onto KavehLumi, KaveLou, etc and it’s a very, very small trickle of activity in comparison.
Not quite ready to stop playing yet because I need to build up my new team with Layla, Faruzan, Scara but maybe after I’ve done this, I’ll take a break to cook Kaveh food on AO3 ahahahah.
I think that I lack the ability to write short asks… Hope it is not too painful to read (and sorry for negative vibes 🙁).
-🍓
Welcome back 🍓 Anon! No worries, I like receiving long asks ^_^ They're not painful to read at all, trust me. Nothing will ever top the pain that is reading academic research papers 😐
In the same vein, I hope my super long responses aren't too much for you. I can't keep them short even if I tried. And don't apologize for negative vibes, I get that sometimes you want to vent your frustrations and thoughts with someone who can relate. I would even say that between the two of us, I'm more negative haha 😅
I legit wanted to celebrate with a bottle of champagne when it was revealed Kaveh wasn't on Haitham's banner. Finally a win. I know the community is having a meltdown, but truth be told, their tears water my crops, clear my skin, and and extend my life by 10 years. 😊 I'm having a good day. If I actually bothered to look at their comments, I'd grab a bag of popcorn and have a field day.
And yes, I also hope he's with Nilou! I always thought they'd be together since they're both bloom-based, but some people speculate he might be with Furina/Sigewinne. Guess we'll see. Kaveh has been gone for over a year, which is so unusual for a 4 star. I though they were withholding him because of the deletion glitch a hacker did using him, but it's been a good while since then...
Regarding English localization... it has been established since a while ago that the English translation for Genshin and HSR leaves much to be desired. There have been multiple instances of mistranslations and butchering of characterization. Rhinedottir, Nahida, and Arlecchino had masculine pronouns in the beginning before the translators realized they messed up. Characters dialogue is often translated to sound more aggressive than it actually is, or subtleties get omitted entirely. It's a mess, basically.
I also wouldn't be surprised if the English localization team for Hoyo is trying to push their own agenda using their translations. Over the past year, I've seen proof that English localizers for anime and Japanese video games push their personal beliefs by butchering the original source material to suit their political standpoints.
The fandom doesn't even need poorly-translated dialogue to gobble up ship crumbs. They twist and misconstrue official media to try and push their ship being canon. Basically make their own crumbs haha.
I would agree with you that the only other same-sex ship that gets as much gatekeeping and toxicity as the Roommate Ship TM is the one with the electro Inazuman ladies. I would also go as far as to say that yes, they also get almost as much pandering, though maybe a tiny bit less? Just a bit. At least both of them can be seen solo or interacting with other characters frequently, and don't have forced moments of interaction for ship bait.
Please don't get me started on same-sex dynamics in Genshin and HSR. It feels like you can ask any shipper of a popular same-sex ship, and they'll tell you that every single character is either gay or lesbian, no in-between. And if they do accept other sexualities, then characters can be anything but straight. NEVER straight (as a saw someone say about Aventurine while using his lightcone art with Ratio as "proof" that he can't possibly be straight, how dare you ship him with a woman).
So yes, according to a significant portion of the fandom, only homosexuality exists, all other sexualities be damned. And yes, characters of the same sex can never be just friends, they're only ever "implied to be a canon gay/lesbian couple". The worst part is that Mihoyo actively encourages their delusions by pandering to the BL and GL sides of the fandom, and the toxic portions of those rub it in everyone else's face, as you said.
It's ok 🍓 Anon, even if they locked you out of Pride Month, you can come celebrate it with me 😊 (I'm straight though, hope that's ok).
The English-speaking side of the fandom is definitely extremely toxic. They've become notorious for harassing artists from East Asia over ships, so they've got a bad rep there too.
As far as I've personally seen, the Japanese side is pretty chill. People liberally block and mute stuff and people they don't want to see, but they do it quietly to avoid conflict.
I have a friend in China, and she told me that the toxicity is just as bad there as it is in the West. Chinese fans don't fight over sexuality, but they do fight over BL and NL ships. I can't say anything about Korea since I haven't seen anything from them, but I imagine it might be similar.
I also want to add that I haven't seen any ship wars for the Russian side of fandom, but I might just not be looking in the right places. I'd be pressed to find NL stuff there, though...
Lmao, Aventurine converted so many players to HSR. I was one of them (thought I started before he was drip marketed). That man is simply too gorgeous. And oh my god, you cannot imagine how stoked I was that Avenstelle (and Avenpaz) became so popular! It helps that Aventurine is still a new character, so his ships are very popular at the moment, but for two NL ships to be so abundant? Mihoyo would be fools to shoehorn him with Ratio, like what they did to Kaveh. Lowkey, I hope Avenstelle can be as popular as Chilumi so Mihoyo does more with them in the story (and I can continue seeing fanart of them years later).
Kaveh is a tragic case, but I think that's mostly because he has two things going against him:
1) He's a "tall" man, and as we have all seen, Mihoyo loves to create "tall" characters in same-sex pairs.
2) He's a 4 star. 4 stars are always less popular compared to 5 stars, both in ship combinations and overall popularity (I would know, 90% of my fav male characters are 4 stars. There's so little solo and NL content for them).
Surprisingly, Kaveh has a lot of NL ships (with Faruzan and even Layla too), it's just unfortunate they're not popular. Kinda hard to be popular when Mihoyo gives no food for those ships, and the toxic shippers harass you for shipping him with a girl. Mihoyo isn't even trying.
On the bright side, though there isn't much regular content for Kavehlumi and Kavelou, there are dedicated fans for those pairings that still create things for those ships.
I run a Daily Kavehlumi Twitter account, and though it's not bustling (I'm just not good at garnering a following lol), it's got over 200 posts and I still haven't even gotten through the majority of all Kavehlumi content that exists on Twitter. We'll be hosting a Kavehlumi week in July, and I hope we'll get a few participants to make even more content to celebrate the ship. I'll be taking a break from posting on Tumblr this month to write some things for it.
I'm curious though, what kind of Kaveh food are you hoping to cook? 👀 Is it for a specific ship, or something else?
Anyways, I wish you luck on building your Scara team (Who is the 4th member, btw?), and may you have a good day! 😘
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ask-missparker · 4 months
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Hello old friend. 🍎 ONCE UPON A TIME AU 👑
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Cinderella!Roch & Snow!Mia short blurb
The birds were chirping but the sky was gloomy, clouds brushed against each other looking around for space.
The last couple of days felt very lonely to say the least. However she tried to make the best of it and keep herself busy around town, helping Ethan and the others with restoring the place. They had a few mishaps lately with Alexander, people breaking into stores, fights among the folks who lived there and questionable behavior from the former team members.
Villains trying to resurface their past selfishness and corruption to the heroes here too.
With the recent curse lifted, she couldn’t blame them. It felt a bitter taste in her mouth. Half of their friends—family members were gone in the Enchanted Forest, leaving them with uncertainty over whether they will survive or not. But she tried to have hope, even if her brother-in-law Alexander wasn’t helpful, just trying to rain on her parade every-time she tried to visit him for answer of any kind.
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Now she sat here in her apartment, scrolling through Netflix while snacking on a handful of grapes. She thought about requesting keys to her husband’s rather large home but she didn’t have any idea on how to get that information, besides she enjoyed the smaller space.
While in the middle of scrolling through the page, as a result of questionable content appeared on her screen, a knock appeared on her door. She raised an eyebrow not expecting anyone to visit her today, opening the door to assume it being Cassandra or someone with a similar interest in her query today. But instead she was greeted by a smile unlike no other and bright red curls that lit up a flame in anyone’s path.
“What? Not happy to see me?” Said the redhead who reached out to snap her back to reality.
“Huh? What, no! Rochelle honey come in!” She replied chuckling, letting her enter the living quarters of her home.
“I would’ve arranged to be here sooner but the weather was very bad this morning and the kids wanted to play in the backyard before visiting their uncle.”
“I’m just surprised that you know my address..”
“Oh I asked about! Cassie gave it to me, well no, technically Melissa overheard our conversation and knew exactly where you would be today, since you’re usually at home on Saturday afternoons even while you were cursed—sorry I’m rambling! I just needed a break from the kids and work, and all of town’s folk. When this is over we’re going to The Rabbit Hole!”
“The rabbit hole..? Is that reference to Wonderland?”
———
Rochelle chuckled at her old friend’s response. Usually she was the one who was native and innocent for the most part when it came to the world around her, having lived as a servant girl then became a princess overnight. Yes she knew Mia was rather slow and a bit clueless at times, but this was new to her. Mia was always the first person with her head pointed in the right direction, depending on the circumstances at hand, so seeing her like this made her smile.
Then again Rochelle has lived in this world longer than she has, her friend was in a coma for 16 years at the hospital, and she wondered around places a lot more over the years, so it made complete sense that she would seem this way. Recent events had made it a little difficult to find a moment of peace, hell even Rochelle was worried and confused about their current situation, but she tried to look in the more positive direction.
After a moment the redhead spoke again, “Yes, The Rabbit Hole! It’s a very good bar in the town, it’s nearby Grandpa’s place, they serve drinks and food. I will definitely have to take you there soon.”
“I don’t know if a bar would be my cup of tea..oh god, I sound like my Cassie..and you, no offense.” Mia replied, pouring them both two glasses of lemonade from the fridge.
“None taken, I get it, I wasn’t into the whole bar scene until Jeremy, Melissa and I went one night years back. Best decision ever made. They served me the most delicious Apple martini! And then—”
Rochelle paused sipping her glass of lemonade realizing the last part of her sentence, she messed up knowing she doesn’t have a good enough past with apples. Looking at Mia’s face she expected a disapproving look but instead she was met with a smirked expression.
Mia laughed and nodded, “You’re good don’t worry! I am learning my lesson from that experience.”
“Oh thank heavens I thought I said something wrong!” Explained the redhead who laughed, “So what’s going on here?”
“Not much. Just trying to take it easy..”
“I know you miss them, we all do. I could only imagine how you’re feeling right now, with our friends gone..I could go nuts knowing my children and spouse were gone. I don’t even know how you’re so calm right now! How are you so calm?”
“I’m keeping myself busy actually. Like yesterday, I went to the stables with Cole, we had a small picnic and entertained the horses.”
“What about Alexander? He’s uh, something else..no offense!”
“None taken, I just tolerate him.”
———
Amelia remembers how two days ago, she arrived at Alexander’s home as requested by her boss at the hospital to check on his bandages. She refused to do so but Rose, a fellow nurse, kept her company until further notice that day. Alexander was rather difficult for her standard procedure, as he wasn’t pleased with having two nurses at his home and exclaiming how he can take care of himself. But one bark and bite from Rose brought him down a peg to be looked at by her and Mia.
She remembered how Alexander kept giving snarky remarks, odd expressions and engaging in some sort of banter with both nurses. However due to the man having his cuffs tightened on his wrist and being injured previously, there was a sense of vulnerability and humor to his presence that day.
Yes, Amelia disliked the man and was rather reluctant about her orders to make sure he was doing fine, but a small part of her almost smiled seeing him this way. She knew if it was left to Rose, she would’ve made the check harsh enough for Alexander, resulting in them staying longer in the man’s home.
——
Both women took towards the couch in the middle of the room, grabbing the remote control to see what’s on TV for the day as they tried to relax. They spent their time chatting and watching television together, until a certain cartoon appeared on the screen.
Well more like a movie.
Disney’s Cinderella.
To say Rochelle’s jaw dropped was an understatement as she watched what was supposed to be her counterpart on screen. Amelia couldn’t contain her laughter at her friends expression and exclaiming certain moments across the film. Yes Rochelle knew about the story, especially from her children and Cole’s views on her experiences, and how everyone has their own interpretations of things, but this wasn’t what she expected.
Amelia watched on television as it showed a young blonde woman dressed in a sliver almost blue dress talking in her fairy godmother. She remembered the tale from her friends, hell she was there during the ball, so she knew this wasn’t how the story went.
It was settled in her head for a movie night for everyone one of theses days to react and comment on theses versions of their stories.
“Ok first off, i ain’t some blonde bimbo who cried the whole night, I mean I did cry but still, and secondly i didn’t have some old ass fairy godmother to help me! I had a magic business man dressed in freaking leather pants who sassed me half the time!” Rochelle said with such enthusiasm and sass in her tone, “Cole did not look like that!”
Amelia was leaning into her seat, resting her elbow against the armrest of the couch, “Mhmmm yeah I remember. And he was wearing his engagement ring too.”
“Exactly! Wait when was he engaged?!”
“Jeremy proposed to him a few weeks before Michelle’s ball, if I’m correct. He showed me that ring like it was a gift from the gods.”
“Wait what?! Ohhh damn slay, I guess.”
“I’m sorry if you just say ‘slay’?”
“Gen Z slang I think? I found the kids using it. Don’t judge me!”
Instead Mia just laughed.
~~~~
I know this is short! But it’s what I came up with right now. I will definitely continue this discussion soon
Anyways let me know what u guys think 💙❤️
Tags: @missstrawbs2001 @gcthvile @blueboirick @cherrysft @meiramel @ask-starrk @thechoooooosenone @wizzzardofoz @finlayholmes @ethan-lensherr @purpleprincessonfyre @luna-d-marsh @rickb-chaos
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