#using never love an anchor feels so over done but i mean

[nomsfaultau]

SBI SCP AU character playlists

Tommy:

Rose by The Oh Hellos (I mean I'm doing an entire animatic wip, it fits and I have essays to prove it. Anyway violence, the power of names/narratives, truth, hypocrisy, how sacrifice and love tie together.)

Sunken City by David Wirsig (Tubbo associations, mostly symbolic/vibes past the prison break. The euphoria of escaping and how the world beyond is confusing and unrecognizable. The idea of journeying with a friend to the ruins of what was once your life. 6th verse as finding a new home in found family. 'God free me from the burden of my thoughts')

Never Love an Anchor by The Crane Wives (Tubbo, and how Tommy tries to distance himself to protect them/is the only reason Tubbo stays in a group with people they abhor. Touch starvation, hands as dangerous, seeing himself as a monster/burden. Again. Did an animatic for this one.)

Wilbur (yes they're all by Will Wood for the bit):

Misanthrapologist by Will Wood (Philza, for their light/dark dynamic and untangling of Wilbur's loathing of society and himself. WHiT Constellations interlude. I imagine 'can't keep a straight face while I'm praying' as Phil trying to get Wil to meditate but they end up laughing + 'don't you revolve around someone else' as a chide to Philza post Anderson's death)

Love Me, Normally (If he were honest with himself. Wilbur is wracked with jealousy for humanity that he disguises as hatred. Die young mentality, insomnia, bridge 2 addressed to the void, 'Is it courageous or escapist to leave the quarantine when you’re contagious?' as a comment on the danger of anomalies and if they should be contained)

BlackBoxWarrior (An entire life spent running from the Foundation and their experiments + trauma, repressing the past, general void madness, 'a map to every victim of his love' as the scars the void has left)

The Blade:

Red Water Dreams by Aviators (The sea motif of the voices, being a vessel for The Blood God, finding blame in those who unleashed his apocalyptic revenge. The entire chorus fits so well. 'Vicious thoughts are stirring/And I hunger for their power')

Paralyzed by Aviators (He's just an Aviators boy, what can I say, it's the violence and upbeat tempos man. Really this is The Blood God's song. His challengers as a duty to cull, as he's forced to hunt down every last foe that laid a hand upon his vessel. The thrill of battle, impending doom, 'I will give you one fair chance' because he really does seek a good fight. The Blade is the one paralyzed, unable to do anything but watch as his body is used for destruction)

Turn Out the Lights by The Crane Wives (Because The Blade does actually handle The Blood God/voices pretty well. I feel this song captures the way he just sorta rolls his eyes and shrugs off the intrusive thoughts most of the time)

Philza:

Rule #9 - Child of the Stars by Fish in a Birdcage (Wilbur as a wanderer, but works for any Collected for fostering their growth. Father vibes. Philza raising his children to be strong, independent people. A gentle expectation of greatness, because he picks out the exceptional among humanity)

Hot Tea by Half Alive (His sheer adoration of his Collected, also fun to swap the roles so that it is the god showing devotion. The pure warmth and sweetness matches Philza. In retrospect I need a song about protective violence but eh I set a 3 song limit.)

Time Machine by Miracle Musical (Amnestic arc. Particularly with loneliness and the vehemence in 'look at what you've done now to me', as well as 'I'm leaving today, today' with his confused insistence that he leaves at the end of the week. The way Philza is dragged in and out of grief at the whims of the Foundation, left free floating and disorientated)

Tubbo:

Soap by The Oh Hellos (Actual perfect Tubbo song. WHiT Croplands interlude. Themes of pacifism, how Tubbo is made of pieces, the separation between humans and anomalies and how the Hivemind can cross that barrier. Learning when to let go/hold on with the Tommy, Hive members, Willow. The 2nd chorus as Rhodes trying to convince Tubbo to leave Tommy in Jasper, with the response of 'I think that you’re worth (keeping around/holding onto)' to both Rhodes and Tommy's Never Love an Anchor. And imagining Tubbo saying the last stanza to Tommy makes me so soft)

Escapism by Rebecca Sugar (Dissociation. Grey chapter in general, specifically Pewter for being firm in convictions: 'shouldn't show a trace of doubt' and telling Rosalind the sacrifice won't hurt them, as well as trying to force a dissociative episode when their hand is sawed off)

Saint Bernard by Lincoln (ok this is a troll but also fits well for Cinnabar and Old Gauze. The guilt of failing one's morals. Technically Tubbo is in Indiana satanic and chained up, but I'll let it slide. The Saint Calvin verse is so good for the Rhodes-Tommy tension + Foundation destroying families. Also the way Tubbo blames their self-loathing on Rosalind, making the chorus apt for the Hivemind mess) (but also its funny to give Tubbo the classic edgy character song)

(Bonus) Dr. Blake:

Take Me to War by The Crane Wives (She sees herself as forced to be ruthless to survive against powerful anomalies. 'And I'll rankle the beasts with words' for her manipulation. Also epithets in the dehumanizing way the Foundation avoids names. Verse 3 is Tubbo 'corrupting' the guards when they saved humans from Philza)

Solaria, Kevin / End-World Normopathy by GHOST (Tommy, with religious themes and verse 5/Kevin understood as The Blood God. The cold cruelty of the Foundation, sentience as a failure/flaw in a tool (Tommy), Dr. Blake completely separating her personal and professional selves because to have humanity is only a weakness anomalies will exploit. 'Though you’ll never die, you’ve found that/All eyes are staring at your hands' is an absolutely perfect line for summoning sessions)

[inkskinned]

they keep the silverware in the same place. you forget about it a little bit when you move out, but during the holidays, it comes back. the way you smooth over your life for them, a gentle reckoning.

for a while, you tried to find yourself by being wild. throwing your body at the emergency exit. finding comfort in the sharpness of a held breath. you used to write wake up on the inside of your wrist. you couldn't calculate the weight of your own sorrow, only that nobody was looking at the anchor of it. you tried maladaptive coping mechanisms like catnip. got caught half-in half-out of them. felt, weirdly, like you should be embarrassed of all of it.

but it does get better. mostly it's just that you become a priority to yourself. it turns out that lending yourself the ragged edge is just cutting open more marrow. for a while, it felt good to see a physical representation of inward agony. but who was that punishing? you learned, slowly (so slowly it was almost invisible sometimes) that you could put love into the wound instead. that the floor was comfortable because it was certain - but it was cold, and unwanting. instead there is a warm bed. you learn to treat yourself like a kid again. gentle-parent yourself into the shower and over breakfast and into laughing without effort. you do wake up.

but then you come home again, and it is like everything is a strange kaleidoscope of childhood moments. here is how you inherited your mother's anxiety. there is the same music playing, and you can't sit down without worrying you forgot to do something. your mother's clipped words and hovering hands - are you sure? are you sure? birdlike, you find yourself seeing unwell and still end up repeating.

here is your father's anger. you are 16 again. there was a moment where you remember thinking - holy shit. i am so much more emotionally mature than you. how you have to talk him down from minor inconveniences, how you parent him like an errant and spoiled toddler who can't be told no, and i mean it. you feel the warp of you. why you can't be in the same room as people having a completely normal conflict. why your skin crawls if there's ever a hint of a fight. why you live with your hands up, placating. and god forbid you get angry. you feel that little spoiled kid rage against the iron will of you. not you, not your hands. you would rather cut your own tongue out of your head, no matter how valid her argument is.

and you're so fucking far from where you were as a kid. you've done so much healing. and there's this little sad part of you that can see the shadow of your past, and your hands wrapped into each other so tightly you made your knuckles white. and how much your parents are just people, and haven't changed much, and still keep the spoons in the drawer to the right.

there is a long dark tunnel here, and it has a name, but you haven't learned how to process that kind of speech yet. close the cabinet. make a note to go get more oat milk. close your eyes.

this place was never home, was it.

[tayytayy12]

Off to the races | CS55 x Reader

Summary - When your father sold you off into a loveless marriage with a feared mafia boss, you knew it wouldn’t end well, the two of you hardly ever speaking, but one night when your husband promises he’ll start doing better, you cousins help but believe him.

Warnings - swearing, whatever you’d expect from a Mafia story really

Requested - No - Yes

Type - Written

Not been proofread

You knew from the money that your father told you about the little arrangement he had made with Carlos Sainz, the most feared man in all of Spain, that you’d be unhappy as the result of it. You’re whole life you’d grown up lacking the luxury of having a lot of money, but you had a loving family that were worth everything to you, so you was content, but apparently your father didn’t feel the same.

He done something stupid. Something so incredibly stupid and wrong, he borrowed money from Carlos Sainz, money he knew for a fact that he would never be able to able to repay, so when the man showed up at your family’s home, a gun pointed at your fathers head unless he could offer up some kind of repayment, your father offered you up to the man without a moment of hesitation.

Carlos’ men came and hit you the next day, no matter how much you screamed and begged your mother and father to make them not take you, to let you stay at home with your family, they didn’t listen and you was taken away and married off to Carlos at the next available date.

He didn’t love you, he didn’t care for you, he needed you for one thing and one thing only, an heir. One to take over for him when he wouldn’t work anymore, to keep his family name leading the mafia past his lifetime, that’s all.

You didn’t have fun at the wedding, you never had fun, you woke up, had breakfast, wandered around the halls of your home, and went to bed, you hardly ever saw Carlos, it was rare he even came home at night.

You sighed, flopping onto your back as the moonlight shone through the crack in the curtains, yet another night that sleep seemed like something far out of reach, another night where Carlos wasn’t home and he was out doing god knows what.

You could never sleep alone, back at home you shared a room with your younger sister, your whole life you’d never have to stay in a room all alone, it was too quiet and empty.

“Fuck this.” You muttered as you threw the blanket off of your legs and slipped some shoes and a robe on as you walked out of your bedroom, the two guard that were always near you following a few steps behind, another annoying habit of your husband, having guards follow and track your every move.

You went into the kitchen to make a cup of tea, something your other used to do when you was a child and couldn’t sleep, and went to go sit on the back porch of your house, looking out onto the anchors of land that she now partly owned.

You groaned as you heard the door click open from behind you, “Mr.Jackson, I appreciate that you’re just going your job, but it’s a glass door, can’t you just look at me through it instead? It’s bad enough you’re always two feet behind me. No offence.”

“Is that how you talk to all my staff?” You instantly sat up straighter when you heard your husband’s voice instead of the British accent of your assigned bodyguard, you cleared your throat, “Sorry Mr.Sainz, I didn’t know it was you.” You whispered, your eyes still stuck on the land before you.

“No need to be so formal, cariño,” he said as he sat on the seat beside yours, “we are married after all.”

You scoffed and rolled his eyes at his words and muttered a quiet “Barley.” But he still heard you and turned his stare towards you, “and by that you mean?”

You rolled your eyes once again, “I see you four times a month if I’m lucky, Carlos. You’ve never wished me a happy birthday in two years of marriage. You see me as the key to continuing your family name. Nothing more.”

He didn’t know what to say, he was angry, not at you. At himself for letting you ever think the words leaving your mouth were true, “I’m sorry I’ve made you feel this way cariño.”

You shrugged and took a sip of your tea, the warm liquid gliding down your throat, “Don’t be. Our marriage is and always has been a business proposition, nothing more.”

He wanted to say so many things in that moment, how he picked you because from the moment he saw you, your enchanting eyes and sweet as honey laugh, he fell. He could get any woman from anywhere to continue his family’s legacy, but he chose you.

“Trust me, cariño,” he whispered as he moved from his seat and got on his knees in front of you, confusing you greatly as he took the warm mug from your hand and placed it in the ground, “you’re much more than a part of a business deal to me.” He whispered and he placed a gentle kiss to your knuckles, “I’ll do better by you, you’re my wife, my main priority,” he whispered, this side of him was new, so new you was scared to say that you liked it, “tell me what I can do to start making it better.”

You swallowed lightly, having no idea where this Carlos was coming from, “You can actually spend the night with me tonight.” Yous aid in a quite whisper, but he had no protest, he just nodded with a smile as he stood and picked you up, a,ing you help in surprise as your legs wrapped round his waist on instinct.

He carried you to your shared bedroom and placed you down into the bed and he went to change, when he tenured you was asleep against the soft pillows, the tea having worked its magic and your exhaustion catching up to you, he smiled down at your body as he got in bed careful besides your sleeping frame and pulled you into him, he was going to do better. He was going to be better, for you. He was.

—————

[petrichorium]

the merman is back.

it’s a little weird how used to him you’ve gotten. he’d only shown up for the first time a few months ago, but when you’re largely alone out on the boat or in your oceanfront lab there’s no shortage of ways for him to visit with nobody around.

he’s yet to tell you a name, but after the first few weeks of silence he suddenly revealed a passable understanding of english; when he speaks it's rudimentary, but he clearly understands everything you say, even if he doesn’t listen half the time.

you haven’t gotten the nerve to get in the water with him. in fact, you haven’t gotten in the water at all since he arrived, even when your colleagues are around and he’s notably not. he’s massive, his tail alone being well over two meters long and possessing the torso of a man who would tower over you on dry land (a handsome man, you're begrudged to admit, with those broad shoulders and blood red eyes and that ash blond hair that somehow looks good immediately coming out of the water). he’s assured you in his blunt, curt way that of course he doesn’t want to eat you but you still have anxieties about getting out into the open water you’ve always loved and being pulled under by a fucking sea monster.

he’s getting bolder, though. when you take the boat out today, he follows it, like the dolphins used to back when you operated out of the keys; that sleek black body would be terrifying just from the size, like seeing a fully grown orca bump up against the hull.

and when you weigh anchor, almost immediately, the boat keels aftward when he pulls himself onto the deck.

you shriek and he immediately pins you with a steely glare. he’s never done that before. it’s fucking terrifying, though he’s not managed to drag his whole body up and you’re a little comforted by that. it’s just his arms—two massive, heavily muscled things that are flexed and crossed in front of him, holding his head, shoulders, and much of his human-like torso up out of the water with ease. that enormous tail trails behind him and it’s still terrifying to see, your heart skipping a beat every time the shimmering orange markings catch your eye.

you don’t know what you’ll do if he decides to come all the way onto the boat. he wouldn’t be able to maneuver that well, but where the fuck would you go? into the damn water?

“fucking christ!” you yelp. “don’t just do that, motherfucker!”

“calm,” he snaps as he rolls his eyes.

the urge to flip him the bird is overshadowed by the knowledge that he wouldn’t understand, and you’re too frazzled to explain what go fuck yourself means. instead, you turn back around to clean up the cabin that he’s managed to mess up.

“oi, human, come.”

you huff, shouting your name at him and pointedly refusing to turn away from your task. he’s clearly annoyed at that, and you belatedly realize that perhaps if you’re really that terrified of him coming onto the boat you shouldn’t provoke him. luckily, rather than heaving himself up, he jerks the entire hull.

it’s a smooth motion for him, gripping the stern and rolling his tail so that the boat moves with him. it’s like being out in a storm, and though you’re well aware that it’s just your needy visitor, your sea-hardened stomach still lurches at the familiar feeling.

you stumble out of the cabin, careful not to be thrown over the edge. “i’m out! holy shit, i have a damn job you know, i can’t spend all my time catering to your whims.”

he stops as soon as you get back on deck. “calm,” he tells you again, and you're really starting to hate the word, “too loud.”

“who’s fucking fault is that? don’t rock my damn ship.”

“sit,” he demands rather than apologizing.

there are a plethora of reasons not to. you won’t be able to get away quickly if you need to, you shouldn’t be encouraging his demands by obliging immediately, you really do have a job to do instead of… whatever this is—instead of listening to any one of those reasons, you ease yourself down with your legs crossed a little ways away from where he’s holding himself.

he snarls, baring a mouthful of sharp teeth. “closer.”

“no,” you snap. “not if you’re threatening me.”

his mouth shuts immediately, brow furrowed and lips pouting in an expression that’s less pleading or apologetic and more contemplative.

“not a threat,” he seems to settle on saying.

you roll your own eyes. “yeah. okay.”

“come here.”

“why?”

“wanna feel you.”

that throws you for a loop. what could he mean by that? you realize that perhaps he’s as fascinated by you as you are by him.

you’ve caught him staring at your body in the past. he’s never reacted like you’d expect—if you’d caught a human looking at you like that and then turning away when you caught his eye, he’d have been checking you out. but when it’s an apex predator of a different species, there’s an entirely different context, one you’re even less enthused about.

you’re standing before you’ve fully thought it through, fully freaked and ready for him to go. you barely get to uncross your legs, however, before he lunges.

it’s far faster than your not-normally-hunted-because-you’re-a-modern-person mind can follow. a cold, clawed hand snaps out to latch around your ankle and yanks you downward, slamming your back into the boat’s coarse deck and then dragging you towards the edge. there’s not even time for you to shriek.

this is it, you think. he’s going to eat you now; he’ll drag you under and rip you apart, or maybe he’ll drown you first as a mercy. you hope he doesn’t want to play with you further, drag you into the water and let go to make you swim because he wants a chase.

the moment your ankle hits the water he stops.

you’re breathing heavily, free leg still braced on the deck, arms finding purchase on a pole nearby. his whole body is underwater aside from his eyes and the very top of his head, but you can still see that massive dark shadow—only little flashes of that pretty orange-gold patterning visible as his scales glint beneath the sun—and it sends a thrill through you. he’s so ungodly enormous.

that hand is still around your ankle, but it’s looser now. his mouth is beneath the waves so he doesn’t speak, but his eyes are soft and almost regretful as he regards you.

“okay…” you move slowly, getting to a better position. it pulls your captive ankle from the water and the movement causes his grip to tighten as if he’s reluctant to remove it—he doesn’t stop you, but he doesn’t let you go. you’re forced to sit on the edge of the deck with your feet dangling over the side.

“let me feel you,” he tries again, as if he’s giving you a choice.

“ask,” you decide upon demanding. his words have made you realize, with a burst of shame and a promise to never tell anyone in the future, that you’re not entirely opposed to the strange rude merman feeling you.

you’re gifted a growl, not unlike the snarl from before but lacking the teeth. he’s learning, you realize, not only in not baring those terrifying weapons at you but also in removing his hand from your ankle.

“can i… touch you,” he spits out, like the words and your request are insulting.

and again you think there are far too many reasons to give in just like that. you’ve been around enough children to know that rewarding problematic behavior is hardly the way forward, but there’s a certain part of your brain that’s in control right now and it’s not particularly interested in breaking him of his demanding attitude (quite the contrary, to your chagrin, this very annoying part of your brain is enjoying it).

“are you sure you’re not going to eat me?”

“no eating.” he huffs, wrinkling his nose.

“what, i smell bad or something.”

he regards you, approaching a little closer, and you resist the urge to pull your legs up to hold your knees to your chest.

“smell good,” he says, “not like food.”

all right.

“fine, then. if you’re not going to take a bite out of my calf, then… sure. feel me, i guess.”

he’s just as fast as before, not even waiting for you to finish your sentence before he’s lashing out and grabbing your leg again. this time, he’s not looking at your face; he’s focused entirely on your feet, those big hands inspecting them thoroughly.

it’s rough, and you’re a little glad because if he’d been gentle it would have likely been too ticklish. he’s still careful with his massive claws; you’re sure they’re sharp enough to pierce your skin with ease, and he’s clearly skilled enough to avoid it. you’re more than thankful, because you’ve seen how he hunts with them (he’s dropped disemboweled fish in front of you before as strange gifts) and you don’t want your legs to end up like his prey even if he doesn’t eat you.

he moves on from your feet, both hands latching onto one calf and almost massaging it in reverence. his face is even closer now; you really ought to be more worried by the proximity of those teeth to your skin, but the fascination on his face is so enthralling.

by the time he reaches the back of your knee, you're tensing. while before he’d been mostly in the water, he’s very nearly at your height now, holding himself up by his grip on you and an awkward hold on the deck with his spare hand.

and then he’s at your thigh, and your breath is heavy.

because he’s basically laid out on your lap, one arm wrapped entirely around your upper leg such that his large palm rests flush, fingers spread, against the plush flesh of your inner thigh. and he’s no less fascinated, expression no less sincere, as he pulls further up to get closer.

“warm,” he says, more to himself than you. he blinks, as if shaking away a daze, and his eyes jump up from your thighs to look at your stomach. “soft…”

his head drops. you jump, caught up in the strange haze he's brought with him but snapping out of it as he lays his head on your lap. your heart thumps erratically, your breath long bated. he’s not looking at your thigh anymore, and not your face either—he’s locked on your stomach, your loose t-shirt having ridden up slightly to reveal more bare skin.

you ought to see it coming, really, but when that big, cold hand moves from your thigh to your torso, sliding smoothly beneath your shirt and running up your bare stomach, you yelp and jolt back.

he startles, and then he’s gone, slipping back off you and disappearing down into the murky water. you’re left panting, with nothing but a very wet body and the ghost of his touch on your legs…

and the heat of your face at the knowledge that, while you’d been surprised, you kind of wanted him to go further.

[cookinguptales]

So I've talked about this a little bit in the past, but like... to me, the biggest tragedy of this substandard turning for Guillermo is that he's clearly always associated vampiric transformation with personal growth.

One thing that's always struck me about both Guillermo and Nandor is that both of them have this odd fixation on a nebulous "better" version of their lives that they should be living, and that fixation is so strong that it prevents them from fully living the life they already have. They both have a tendency to be so focused on how green the grass is on the other side that they forget to water their own lawn, if you get me.

Nandor has pretty obviously been on a quest for meaning since at least the first season (due to his crisis over Al Qolnidar no longer existing and his descendent dying) and he has a strong tendency to ignore all of the meaningful things that already exist in his life so he can pursue a fantasy of something better. He constantly throws aside the good things he has because he believes there must be something better. And in so doing, he often loses what he had to begin with.

Guillermo actually does things fairly similarly, except while Nandor is looking externally for something to enter into his life and give it meaning, Guillermo's fantasy life is focused more purely on his sense of self, with the anchor of it being vampiric transformation.

Guillermo has always looked at vampiric transformation as being the magic bullet that will make him good. It'll make him stronger, faster, more powerful, sure. But it's not just that. His entire sense of self-worth is attached to this. He doesn't just want physical power; he wants social power. He wants emotional power.

When Guillermo becomes a vampire, he won't get bullied anymore. When he becomes a vampire, he'll get respect. He'll be smart, strong, sexy. He'll be loved. He'll be able to love himself.

He'll be better.

Guillermo has always unabashedly put all his eggs in that basket. He's always just waited for someone to come bestow worthiness on him. But it's also circular logic, y'know? He'll become worthy once he's a vampire, but he'll also only become a vampire once he's worthy.

He has to earn it, and he'll never be happy until this growth, this vague sense of superiority, is earned.

That's really not how self-worth works, though, is it? No one can give that to you. No one can magically make you all the things you've always wanted to be, and no one can magically strip you of all the parts of you that you're ashamed of. And all the praise in the world won't mean anything to you if you don't believe it.

Guillermo, as he's gotten further away from being a vampire, has actually started to gain all the things he has intrinsically associated with vampirism. He's stronger. He's faster. He's more powerful. He's sexier. He's more confident. People respect him. People accept him. He's been able to start to reclaim his sexuality. He's starting to be able to be himself, and that self is both alluring and dangerous.

But none of that came because of anything he's done to try and earn his worth. It was all accidental; he's been so focused on this fantasy version of himself that he didn't see the way he was growing, changing, and developing in his own way.

Guillermo can't see that he's already grown up to be his childhood fantasy of himself, y'know?

So now he's gone and used all this newfound power and confidence and cunning to finagle himself a bite. But it didn't work. And it didn't make him feel the way he thought it would.

Because it's always been a fantasy. It's always been something to work toward. It's always a version of him that can't exist because it's nothing concrete, it's just the nebulous idea of being better.

Moreover, it's not just a power fantasy, though it certainly is that. I think the key to it here is that Guillermo has really come to associate this changing with acceptance. Not just anyone's acceptance -- Nandor's acceptance.

Along with all the other parts of the fantasy, Guillermo has fantasized about Nandor changing him because Nandor thinks he's worthy. It symbolizes all the longing he's ever had for acceptance and respect and acknowledgement and love and desire. Nandor's really become the center of all that for him, mostly because Guillermo is stupid in love with him. And since he circumvented Nandor's acceptance when he claimed a bite from someone else, he's really missed out on a major portion of what he was fantasizing about in the first place.

No one in the vampiric world is accepting him. If anything, they're pushing him away even more now that he's upset their social balance. No one thinks he's sexy. No one thinks he's cool. No one loves him, desires him, respects him. He still hasn't gotten the acknowledgement that he really wanted all along.

It was never just the powers. It was the fact that Guillermo hated himself. He hated his nebbishness, his weakness. He hated the way he couldn't fit in, not with his peers or his family or his religious community. He hated his timidity and his shyness and his submissiveness. He hated the way he was pushed around by everyone -- and in fact, he wanted to do the pushing.

And he thought that getting bitten would fix all that overnight. But it didn't.

So now even though he's gotten the bite he's always fantasized about, he's still deeply unhappy. And some of this really is the lack of physical power, which he's associated with social power. But I think more of it is that he always thought that a bite would change him on a fundamental level. But he has to come to terms now with the fact that he's still just Guillermo.

He can never be anything but himself. And Guillermo hates himself. He's embarrassed by himself. He's ashamed of himself. The idea of never being anything but what he already is is unbearable to him.

Then you add the fact that he doesn't feel like he "earned" this transformation, he never did get the acknowledgment from the person he needed it from most...

Guillermo was bitten and he still doesn't feel worthy. That's the root of it. He doesn't feel like the bite made him worthy and he doesn't feel like he was deemed worthy of the bite. So the bite itself? Yeah, that's worthless, too. Just like him.

Guillermo is struggling with the death of a fantasy here, I think, and struggling with idea that he might only ever be himself. And all he has to impress those around him, especially Nandor, is that self. And he doesn't feel like that self is enough, especially now that he might have fully alienated Nandor in particular.

God, I just. I really want Guillermo to come to accept who and what he is. I want him to see his own strength and his own power and his own beauty and realize that it didn't have to be bestowed upon him by anyone. It's not just his bloodline, it's not just the master he serves. It's him! It's in him! It's intrinsic! It's good!

It's enough!

I want him to be so proud of himself, because I am. My beautiful little murder machine. He's awful and I love him so dearly. ;;

God, I just want these two idiots to look at each other and realize that what they already have is enough. Nandor already has the love and acceptance he's been craving. Guillermo already has the power and worthiness that he's been craving. They already both love each other. They just need to stop being dumbasses for five minutes!

(But now who's lost in a fantasy world? lmao)

[keeponquinning]

Imagine being Joseph's girlfriend and feeling awkward and insecure about all the attention he's getting. now imagine the sweet nothings he'd whisper in her ear, the endearing 'I love you's while buried between her legs and little marks left on her skin so she always knows...

Guys, never stop sending me stuff like this.

Good lord. Here we go. 18+ adult rpf stuff ahead, scram kiddos

It'd be difficult not to feel insecure, the attention he gets is so constant, and part of you can't blame them. You've always known how amazing and talented he was. And he cares so much of his fans, part of it being of pure amazement and never expecting this attention. You're proud of him, so proud of him... and yet...

He just seems to shine so much brighter than he used to, brighter than you. He's being cast in these major productions, getting more in the spotlight and rising higher and higher and part of you can't help but think you're holding him back. That one day he'll leave you behind, in the dust of what you two used to be. There's models, actresses that would fit better with Joseph and you can't help but feel you don't measure up. Soon, he'll see you as an anchor that's keeping him in one place and not sail towards the sun.

But Joseph doesn't see that. When he looks at you, he sees the one person keeping him afloat in the storm of this madness he found himself in. Oh, it's fun, it's exciting, and he's getting opportunities he was sure he'd never had a chance to get before Eddie Munson, but it's so mad sometimes. He'd lose himself if it weren't for you. The calm in the storm. He cherishes every moment with you, something as simple as holding his hand is like a lifeline to him. Your smile brightens his day, your laugh makes his heart feel full. You're everything to him. He wouldn't know what to do with himself without you.

The night before he has to leave you for a shoot, he tells you as such, his cock filling you deep. Every thrust of his hips is hard, quick, his hand curled around your throat as his body presses against you, in his bed. One of your legs curled high on his waist, making you look at him in his eyes. He felt a man possessed, wanting every second of this burned into his memory. The sound of your panting moans and desperate cries, making his cock twitch, pulse as the walls of your cunt clench around him so tight it drives him absolutely mad with desire.

Towering over you, his whole body covers you, his hands moving the grasp your hair and pull your head back. His lips dancing along the curve of your neck, his own little grunts and groans beating down on you with heated breath. His body moves on his own, chasing the pleasure you give him, his hips pounding into you harder and harder — yet with every quickened breath, every desperate "Oh, god, oh yes, god, right there, please, please..." he forces himself not to follow through, to ease off, though it makes his body shudder, driving him absolutely fucking mad. His teeth biting into your neck, hard and unforgiving. He knows his cock is leaking, so desperate to cum, but the sounds of your desperate cries is too cute for him.

"...do you know how much I love you?" he asked, stilling inside you, cock pulsing, desperate. But he keeps still, tongue licking where he just bit you, imagining the bruise it'll bring. "Do you?"

You're dazed, but even in such a state, the doubts, the insecurity comes out. "...you say that..."

"Because I mean it. I love you. I love you so... So fucking much..." Starting to move his hips again, slow and deep as he lets out a groan. "I'm going to be — so mad — without you. Absolutely useless, just fucking... I'm gonna miss you..." his voice deep, whispering into your ear with each thrust quickening each time. "Going to miss — going to miss every part of you. Like a fucking — a fucking phantom limb I'll feel — but know isn't there... Fuck," he let out, feeling your pussy clench his cock at that. "Oh, you wanna get praised, do you? Mmm. Easily done, love, my fucking love of my life..."

And he tells you, over and over into your ear. Words of praise mingled with breathy moans and pants from his lips. Accompanied with love bites along your neck, jaw, shoulder as his hips thrust in and out of you with wild abandon. He isn't holding back anymore. His words becoming feverish, mixes of I love you, my fuckin' darling and cunt was made for me, y o u were made for me. Heated utterances of how beautiful you are. Your laugh, your smile, the sound of your voice a bright light in any dull instance his new found fame gave him. Because you weren't part of the fame monster, you were real, technicolor in a grey scale industry and he needed you like he needed air. To feel like himself, the old Joseph Quinn and he needed that, he needed you, so desperately did you have any idea of how much he needs you?

You both cum the hardest and most intense you've both ever felt. You drench his cock in your release and Joseph? He cums inside you, deep and plentiful, thick ropes of his cum painting your walls, coating, drenching them with his cum. He moves, still, body jerking into your body, milking the orgasm out of you both. You could feel him, how much he filled you with his cum, filling you to the brim and more than you two had before. His body feels limp as the last spills inside you.

You both feel light, heavenly, and you feel the rumble of his chuckle as he kisses the flesh of your neck, up to your cheek. "I won't be here," he says, a cheeky grin on his face as he traced his lips along your jaw, toward your lips, "But fuck, you'll be dripping of me for weeks... I hope that'll do until I come back to you." He furrowed his brow, "I hope you know... There's only you. There will always be you."

The sincerity of his words, the way his brown eyes are soft, how sweet his lips feels against yours, the feel of his cock pulsing so deep inside you... Yes... You know. Wrapping your arms around him and you taste his love off his tongue and to your own, the insecurities, the jealousy, the fears melt away and you smile so helplessly, in love with this man.

And he was so helplessly in love with you.

And nothing else mattered.

[heartlilith]

Moon Signs and Song Lyrics

Leo Moon: White Tee - Lil Peep

"I used to think I love you, now I know it ain't true

Now I know it's not you, 50 on my boxers

B**** I know you see me, shinin' in my white tee, it's easy

I make it look easy, believe me, we Gucci"

Leo moons are bright beams of light and they're hard to not notice. I swear any Leo placement lights up a room without even meaning to. Leo moons have this aura of confidence, even if they're insecure you would never know. Especially after a break up or being done dirty by someone, they can pull this confidence out of a hat like a magician and make you regret losing them. They are the epitome of "post break up revenge", they make being beautiful look easy. When their friends or loved ones are heartbroken or just having an off day, Leo moons are the ones that build them back up again. Their light is contagious and people that have lost them will definitely feel the hole they leave behind.

Virgo Moon: Antartica - $uicideboy$

"Get the f*** away from me, I hate all of you faithfully,

this world was never made for me

Thankfully, I'm trained to see

Past all the lies, the ranks, the scenes"

Virgo moons are too good for this world. They are so selfless and will put themselves last if it means helping someone else out. Doing favors for people and being a shoulder to lean on distracts them from their own problems and makes them feel good about themselves; the fact that they can turn someones' day around is everything to them. Unfortunately, this can lead them to being taken advantage of. There is only so much a Virgo Moon can handle before they lose their cool. They see past people's bullshit and manipulation and will not be there for you after they sense that their being walked all over. Like Leo moon, you'll feel the absence of their presence and only then will you realize what you lost.

Libra Moon: 95 - Pouya

"You must be tired baby, 'cause you've been runnin' through my mind

I can't keep quiet baby, 'cause I've been burnin' deep inside,

I'm runnin' out of time, maybe you can fill my void

If not, keep tryin' baby, and never leave me alone"

Libra moons love love, it's no secret. They feel at their best when they have a partner they can experience everything with. Being ruled by Venus, they don't mind the corny type of love, they want compliments and they want to know that they're number 1. Unfortunately, the negative side is that they struggle with being single; they feel less secure without a partner. They want someone to come home to, to fill their "void" of something missing. It's so important for Libra moons to experience things with someone they love even as simple as giving their partner a bite of food, they want to share their happy moments.

Scorpio Moon: 5 Grand 8 to 1 -$uicideboy$

"I get caught up in my thoughts and I can't think right,

Caught up in the nightmare so I don't sleep right,

I just want them to to treat me like they used to,

I just want something real that I'm used to"

Scorpio moon natives can experience a lot of emotional ups and downs because they feel everything very intensely. A lot of transformative shifts can take place within them and around them, which effects their mental health greatly. I chose this song and these lyrics because Scorpio moon natives want something constant in a life full of chaos. They need an anchor - someone they love and trust. With a ride or die type of love, Scorpio moon natives can make it through anything.

Sagittarius Moon: Psycho Pass - Xavier Wulf

"I burn incense 'cause my brain like the smell

She get a whiff and thought it was a spell,

I ain't say come, but she at the hotel"

Sagittarius moons might not see it, but everyone else does. You're so cool, so nonchalant, cool without trying to be cool. You're the friend that everyone wants around because you're chill, funny, and a good time. In terms of love, you attract people with this attitude. You don't worry too much, you don't take things too seriously and I feel like this makes people want you more. Like fans following around a celebrity. People want to be where you are, they want to know what you're doing and do it with you. It's giving starstruck.

Capricorn Moon: Five Six - Pouya

"Yeah, I don't need nobody help but I feel like I'm dyin',

Beggin' for someone to pick me up and keep me thrivin'

If I said I love myself, I know I would be lyin'"

Capricorn Moon babies put on a tough exterior but what they really need is a shoulder to lean on. It's true that they're independent and self sufficient but to a fault. They don't like to ask for help or seem "weak" in anyway. They have a problem with being vulnerable with their emotions but they're the first person their loved ones call when they need to someone to talk to. Capricorn moons are the most hardworking people you will ever meet and it's not uncommon for them to throw themselves into work to avoid what's going on below the surface. Although this is an unhealthy coping mechanism, it often guarantees financial success. It's too bad money can't buy self-love.

Aquarius Moon: After Midnight - Blink 182

"We'll stagger home after midnight, sleep arm in arm in the stairwell,

we'll fall apart on the weekend, these nights go on and on and on"

Aquarius moons love a good time. They like feeling a rush of adrenaline and feeling like they're really living. You know when you're really interested in something you're doing and all of a sudden 3 hours pass by like 5 minutes? This feeling describes Aquarius moons perfectly. They want to be fully immersed into something they love and to be in the moment. They get a bad rep for being "cold" and "emotionless" but this isn't true, they just want a best friend as a lover first and foremost. They want to be with someone that shares their passions so that both of them can have that "partner in crime" type of love. They want someone that will let loose and be spontaneous with them.

Pisces Moon: Not Even Ghosts Are This Empty - $uicideboy$

"I'll tell you a secret, something they don't teach you in your temple

The gods envy us, they envy us because we're mortal

'Cause any moment might be our last

Everything's more beautiful because we're doomed"

Pisces moon natives have an intuitive grasp of philosophical and spiritual concepts. This placement soaks up energies in their environment like a sponge. Pisces moon thrives when they feel in touch with something greater than themselves. This placement shares a thin veil with the spiritual realm and can often experience psychic dreams and downloads. They are the true romantics of the zodiac and often see things with rose-colored glasses. This gives them the ability to see the beauty in the world around them and they can convince others to see it too.

[vinillain]

Great wave chapter 2 spoilers// analysis cuz ahahahaha Adamai… when I get you…

Alr, rant because I’m the biggest Yugo & Adamai fan of all time. And I overanalyzed this chapter to death.

And how the way Adamai treats Yugo is one of the main reasons he’s distant from Amalia.

This pattern of behavior isn’t new, in s4 he was quick to come to Yugo’s defense when Nora was chastising him. Using words like “we” and because both of them were still feeling the euphoria of their reconciliation came to each-others defense in a new unfamiliar environment. But after he sees how shady and “heroic” their family is he ops to leave, and does so without explaining himself (about the dofus) to Yugo or trys to convince him to come along. Something he definitely would have done in s1-2. (And this is because they have grown so far apart the bond they once had is distant, albeit still there)

This behavior is similar, and again appears here in their entire conversation.

Yugo who was brooding and trying to be alone after his vision is greeted by Adamai, who IS genuinely worried about Yugo, since Yugo now carries the dofus of their people he and Adamai’s bond is “strengthened tenfold” allowing him to “almost hear his thoughts” and definitely feel his fear and dark feelings. And he immediately calls Yugo out when he tries to hide how upset he was (which tbh he likely does because of Adamai’s next reaction in a bit, meaning this is a common cycle)

Eventually after some talk Yu breaks down and is honest that he isn’t okay. That his visions terrified him, and here Adamai isn’t dismissive right off the bat, he states that he could feel how bad it was because of their bond, and knew it must have been bad if it shook Yugo up this much

And Yugo tells him about the vision and how “I am the cause.” To which Adamai questions as he seems to think internally, and Yugo like in chapter one with Amalia doesn’t question anything, again he only says “It was real.”

(I am roughly paraphrasing their dialogue so it’s not 100% accurate)

At this point Adamai scoffs at him to which Yugo who’s still upset by his vision flips out on him starting an argument. Asking if he “bores” Adamai

And Adamai tells him he needs to think with his head. He possesses the power of a god and can’t afford to think with emotions. Which is true, TOT said that Adamai was the logic to Yugo’s actions. He is the thought and the anchor, but while he isn’t wrong for saying this, the way he went about it is making things worse, but it also it makes sense why he did act this way towards Yugo.

Adamai is not someone who bases his feelings on emotions anymore.

He’s spent his entire childhood training and getting ready to meet Yugo and find their people. After the loss of Grougal he has spent his entire life trying to fill the void with an adult parental figure who holds power and wisdom that can help him achieve his goals the way he knows mortals can’t. Hence the “we needed someone with more guidance” like in s4 to Yugo. We don’t see exactly what happened to him from the OVA’s-s3. But we know it had a drastic change on him physically and especially mentally. And a big part of that is that he essentially became a vessel to their peoples dofus. In order to cope with his own trauma and feelings and taking on that responsibility of all this power he surprised any emotions or feelings that could cause him to act rash or get in the way of his main goals.

And when he did let his emotions take over because of his blind rage, he ended up hurting people he cared about which left him even more apprehensive to show any ever again. (Hence why he left his newly found family in s4) But in doing this to such an exstent the way he does, he never actually solves any personal problems of conflicts. Especially with his loved ones. He can’t rekindle his bond with Yugo or try to fix their relationship because he refuses to show any vulnerability. Which makes sense after he was left behind, betrayed and hurt so many times, and more so when he realized that he hurt others in his own pain. He doesn’t want to get hurt or hurt others again.

And as he states, Yugo has power beyond any mortal comprehension. He now carries the weight and responsibility of their people, and their siblings dofus. Honestly just their peoples future in general. He holds power, power many people want to steal from him or rid him of. Adamai compares Yugo’s situation to how he had to handle the dofus. That he needs to swallow any emotions and think logically. Which he has always done more out of the two of them. Vulnerability is a weakness to him. And Adamai doesn’t want Yugo to get hurt or hurt others like he has in the past.

He is cruel and harsh in his words. Telling Yugo he does “bore” him. And completely downplays his twin’s feelings because he sees them as being weak. But he DOES care about Yugo, in his eyes Yu will end up suffering more if he shows this vulnerability. It’s why he is mean and tells Yugo he can’t be acting like a child when he has all this responsibility and power in his hands. This isn’t the same when they were little kids, the stakes for them and their people are much hire now.

But to Yugo, who’s tried to fix their relationship countless times, is naturally upset at this. He feels unheard, that’s he’s being over dramatic and that his feelings don’t matter. That he isn’t allowed to be upset at his own trauma. Which is something i think paralells Goddess Eliatrope. How people dismiss her feelings and say she’s overreacting. That she needs to “get over herself” because she is a great goddess with all this power. Etc. something I hope we see more with Yugo aswell.

Being a king already isolates him enough, being a demigod with all this power does so even more. To Yugo, Adamai is the only one he can turn too when he’s upset. It’s why he was so desperate to find him in s3. Over growing old and being immortal. The problems that mortals can’t comprehend. (Something that definitely upsets him because the more power and godhood he gains the more distance he has between himself and his loved ones.) But when he opens up to Adamai about his fears and issues he is shut down or ignored. And that’s why he won’t open up to Amalia. If Ad dismisses and scoffs at his feelings then why should he try to open up to her? He adores and loves Amalia and fears the rejection she might give him. It’s why the moment she was slightly dismissive with her “Calm down, it was just a dream” he immediately leaves to be alone. He already has to deal with Adamai, he doesn’t want her to do it to him too.

But by doing this he is hurting her too. Like him Amalia is STRESSED beyond belief. She has a ton of weight and responsibility on her shoulders. And she can’t manage the conflicts of her people (especially with the eliatropes) If Yugo isn’t there to help her, If Yugo won’t be vulnerable to her. If he doesn’t trust her or won’t rely on her with his problems then how can she? How can she be open with him if he runs away from her at the deepest issues when they share so much intimacy and love.

Their is already clear tension among the Sadida’s and the (VERY FEW) Eliatropes who now live among them. Many are unhappy with the changes, some openly voicing how “Armand would never have allowed this” suggesting they don’t like Yugo as their king either. And the old man talking about how he lost his son in the war, that the eliatropes haven’t faced sacrifice. (And this is despite that fact that they don’t know anything about their past or the war they went through, how they lost their own families- claiming they don’t understand Sadidan culture or tradition but never trying to learn the other sides either.)

Communication is the key to relationships. Being open and vulnerable is how we understand eachother. Something reflected in the main three so far and the Sadidans+Eliatropes. Yugo keeps shutting Amalia out because of how Adamai treats him. Creating this endless cycle of distrust among the two and it’s reflected in their own people. Both could be amazing rulers and created a better place if they were both open with each-other. But they won’t, and unless Adamai and in turn Yugo open up and show vulnerability. They don’t have to show all of it, trust is slowly gained. Little by little in a healthy manner. But if Yugo doesn’t then the discourse and tension will continue to grow among all their people. (And if you’ve seen the teaser for a certain upcoming chapter you can see how that’s going 😭😭😭)

Anyway, in conclusion: someone please get them therapy

[ghouljams]

ghoul Ghoul GHOul GHOUL

GHOUL

GHOUL

GHOULLLLL

THE FUCKING VÖLVA!WITCH AND VIKING!PRICE FIC WHAT THE FUCK

WHAT THE FUCKKKKKKKKKKKK AHHHHHHHHHHH JKDSFHAKJHGFGLHASJHD;KADJJKASFHAHLWEFUWE

Here's more just for you (I have been sitting on this too long)

The spirits whisper to you, words you never understand until they leave your lips: prophecies and missives, blessings and curses. You've never been more than a vessel for them, trained for it since you were old enough to understand what a Völva was. Maybe even before that. You sleep restlessly, and wake with your hands shaking and your mouth tasting like death. You have to check your tongue most mornings to be sure it isn't black with rot. But there are times, lovely times, when you wake up to warmth, when you wake up with arms around you, when you sleep through the night without so much as a dream.

You're pulled to wakefulness with your joints popping, your spine arched painfully as the last words of prophecy leave your lips. Price marks on velum, scratching with quick strokes of charcoal. He reaches a hand to pet your head, and you nuzzle into the touch. That seems to draw his attention, his eyes flicking to yours and his pencil stopping. You draw in a breath and taste smoke, funerary, you squeeze your eyes shut.

"What did they say?" You ask. You've never been a good orator, never better with your words than the spirits that possess you. Price traces his fingers over your cheek, soft, silent, mournful. You already know what they want.

"There's a healer we're meant to pick up," He tells you, "Will be good for the village, take some of the load off of you." You hum, though it comes out heavier than you mean it to, more of a sigh. Price clicks his tongue, more diplomatic than you ever have been. You wish he wasn't sometimes, that he'd kick up the fuss you want to, that he'd have some- some grievance with the work you send him out for.

There will be someone else to watch you when he leaves, an elder, someone that abides by the rules, that never seeks your comfort over the magic that you can provide. You like that Price never seemed to care for the rules around you, like that he's pushed his way into your little bubble. You know the elders are hoping he'll do more, that their precious captain and prized Völva might make something useful to them, but he's never done more than hold you.

"Is that all?" You push yourself to sit up and Price hands you a cup of water.

"You should rest," Is his answer. You hate when he does that. You reach around him for the velum prophecy and he catches your hand, brings your fingers to his lips, kissing them the way you wish so desperately he'd kiss you. "Sweetheart," He murmurs, the low drag of his voice dripping like honey over your tired mind, "worry about it in the morning."

"Will you still be here?"

The hesitation on his face, the pity in his eyes, is answer enough. You swallow your bitterness. Of course not. Price has his own affairs to attend to, he can't be seen tending to yours as well. He's not the priest of this temple, you are.

He cups your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin with a reverence that only serves to stoking the aching in your chest. "My pretty Völva," He drags his finger over your lips, "my sun," your brows draw together, his thumb pushing into your mouth and against your tongue, he holds you in place even as your hand curls around his wrist, "just a little longer and I'll steal you for myself."

A chill ripples over your skin. He doesn't speak without thought, doesn't make promises he won't keep. You nod, feel his thumb hooked over your teeth like an anchor. There's something dark but honest shadowing the blue of his eyes when he nods back. Just a little longer, you tell yourself, and you'll be his. You could wait forever if it meant waiting for him.

[graceofagodswrath]

Humans Are Feral: Part 2

Wow, I did not expect that last post to be received so well, and so fast. Thanks so much to all those who left awesome comments, reblogs and notes. And since it was received so well, I decided to go ahead and write the part two I’ve been thinking about since part one.

So, humans can vicious and absolutely feral at times. Our society often criticizes such behavior, referring to it as “acting like an animal.” And don’t get me started on how humans love to make themselves seem important by separating ourselves from the rest of the animal kingdom whether from religious belief or simple egotism. But our animal instincts are still a part of us, even though they have been suppressed through hundreds of years of societal evolution. The biggest example of these primal instincts is the fight or flight response. This is one we commonly experience in day to day situations, however small they may seem. From situations like: being in a crowded room and feeling the urge to run because of overwhelming social anxiety. Or being at the in-laws and they make a rude comment, and you just want to snap back or run out of the house. But you suppress those feelings in order to appear “civilized/normal.” Just some tidbits on human psychology I think about a lot.

But that thing that I mostly think about is how we react in extremely stressful and dangerous situations. One’s in which we perceive are life-threatening. I have been put in a situation where I was nearly fighting for my life, and I remember the wildness I felt. There were no verbal thoughts in my head, nothing I remember being normal. All I could feel was this kind of fear-rage in which I was scared as hell, but also angry because I was scared. I remember the adrenaline and the realization that if I was going to die, I was going to fight with everything I had. Which, looking back, seems kind of strange. Many animals often give up if they realize they’re going to die. But humans don’t. Any kind of hope, any kind of need to fight and survive is all we need to keep going. We rarely just give up.

Imagine:

A ship of imperial soldiers of the Fiuldarian Empire had sighted the Star Chaser. All crew had done their best to push the ship to her point, trying to outrun the imperial flagship. But it was no use. Within a few ticks they had been flown down and anchored. But the soldiers never boarded, which scared Captain Din:ai. She stood in the control room before her holoscreens, staring with fear-blown eyes. The imperial ship never sent a communications, nor did it fire any weapons. She had no idea what was going to happen.

Until something did happen.

From the comm, Equaloi’s high-pitched screams shattered the tense silence. The feathered Unaga’o cried out something in their native tongue before a wet gargle cut his voice. His comm cut off, but not before a strange clicking and growl were heard. All in the room stood still, antenna, fur, and scaly plates twitching with anticipation. All eyes stared up at the Captain, awaiting her orders. Or reassurance. Something. But the tall Diralo stood as still as her crew, three-fingered hands balled tightly.

The comm went off again, making several in the room jump. This time heavy breathing sounded. “I just found Equaloi and Fir’nad.” Alex Risach, the only human among Din:ai’s crew. They sounded unnervingly calm, but there was something off about their voice. “They’re not…alive. And they’re all over the place.” Din’ai drew in a sharp breath, her breathing cavities in her chest whistling lowly. Two dead. But not from soldiers.

Din:ai pressed the receiver. “What do you mean by ‘all over the place’?”

“I mean,” Alex said. “That they are in pieces. Torn apart.” Alex’s next sentence made Din:ai’s blood grow cold. “Imperial soldiers did not do this.” Din:ai remained silent, thinking desperately about what to do. Her long kallocks of experience did not prepare her for this situation. Because as much as she wished to deny it, the last few minutes made it clear what was going on. Something was aboard the Star Chaser. And it was extremely dangerous.

“Risach, listen to me. You must make your way to the control room. Any crew you find must follow these same instructions. Whatever is aboard is extremely dangerous, and must not be approached until we know what it is. Do you copy?” There was silence on the other side. Din:ai grew tenser with every quiet second. “Risach, do you copy?”

A click of the comm. And an alien screeching. Angry words could be heard in a human language, one Din:ai did not recognize as a common tongue. Then a feral scream, one that had the scales along Din:ai’s back arching in terror. Every crew member listened in rapt attention, all trying to imagine what was going on behind the sounds.

Then Alex’s voice screaming above the commotion.

“GET SHIT ON MOTHERFUCKER!” A howling squeal followed. A click as the comm turned off. Another click as it turned back on. “On my way to the control room. I recommend all weapons off safety and for everyone to take cover. This thing is mean and ugly as sin.” Their heavy breathing didn’t hide the deep gruffness in their voice. Din:ai pushed away the observation. She could worry about deciphering human language tones later.

She reached under her command center, grabbing the firearm she had hidden earlier. All other crew in the room followed suit. Din:ai pulled up a hole map of the ship, centering in on Alex’s orange-dotted life signal. And the life signal following them. The label above the beeping red dot read ‘unknown’. Both signals were closing in on the command room’s eastern doorway. The giant Diralo captain signaled to all crew present to aim their weapons at the door.

“Anything non-human coming through that door gets shot, understood?” Nods and chirps of agreement. The room became quiet once more, the atmosphere thick with fear-scent. Then sounds could be heard beyond the door. A strange clicking-screeching drowned out everything. Din:ai jerked when banging sounded on the other side of the door. Alex’s voice muffled through the walls.

“OPEN IT!” Din:ai shouted. Yugi, a derumo juvenile who was closest to the door, hit the controls beside it. The door slide upward, exposing the dim hallway and the blood-covered human behind it. Alex sprinted through, turning to aim their weapon at the open doorway.

Then the creature appeared. All recoiled at the sight. Alex spoke true. It was immensely ugly. It resembled a Terran arachnid, long spindly legs supporting a large, hulking body that stood just above Alex’s height. But that is where similarities ended. It was covered in black chitinous armor, spiked and sharp. A pair of spindly arms with elongated claws sat beneath its head. It’s head swayed low, its mouth shaped like a five pointed star shape, teeth covering every flesh surface. Beady black eyes stared from its skull, reflecting the light beaming down. It screeched and charged toward Alex. The crew opened fire.

The gunfire seemed to stop it for a moment before it grew confident again. Because the barrage of bullets and energy weapons barely dented its thick black armor. The clawed arms beneath its head rose to protect its eyes from the oncoming assault.

The gunfire began to lessen as ammo was lost, and the creature noticed. With its head shielded, it approached through the fire storm. That’s when a cloud of fire billowed over it. It screeched and fell back. Alex stalked forward, their weapon drawn against their shoulder, and let loose another bout of streaming flame. The creature retreated, it’s clicks an incessant stream of fearfulness.

“I am so glad I grabbed my flamethrower instead!” Alex shouted. Many of the crew realized their weapons were not effective against the creature, backing under their respective shelters beneath command boards.

Alex’s weapon sputtered and lost its flame. A curse under their breath and they scrambled to reload. But they weren’t fast enough. The creature sprang forward in the moment of weakness and latched its jaws around Alex’s leg. Alex screamed as the beast tore into flesh, red blood spattering on the white floors. It but down and began dragging Alex away, swinging and throwing them around. Alex screamed and cursed in their human tongue, beating at the creature’s head with their weapon.

The weaponless crew could only watch as their human crew mate battled a seemingly hopeless war. Some had run to the western doors, opening them and running away into the depths of the ship.

Din:ai was of the few that stayed, aiming a nearly empty energy gun at the armored beast. She was horrified watching as Alex was tossed about. But what more surprised her was the continued struggle on Alex’s part. They didn’t stop. They continued to beat down upon the creature’s head, screaming and kicking with their free leg at any exposed hide. Even as more blood was lost they fought back.

And Din:ai felt some of her courage, if not shame, return watching the small human fight. She aimed her gun, locking onto the beast’s one exposed weakness: it’s eyes. The black beady things were covered with it’s strange claws, shielding itself from the onslaught of Alex’s flamethrower. The creature was snarling as it dragged Alex, but Alex was snarling back. Din:ai, waiting for an opening, watched as Alex dug the flamethrower beneath the creatures contorted claws, letting go and tearing at it face with their own hands. Their fingers tore wildly, landing on the creatures jaws, trying to part the cage of flesh and teeth latched to their leg. Alex was able to tear away one of the creature’s jaw flaps and pulling with all their strength, ripped it off. Din:ai’s eyes widened. The creature screamed, and Alex screamed back.

The pain the creature was experiencing caused it to lose focus. It’s claws dropped, exposing its eyes. Din:ai took the shot. The wet, electrical sound of an energy discharge into flesh was heard. The creature stopped screaming. Instead it contorted and struggled. Alex was dropped, rolling away and clutching their leg. The creature continued its death throes for a moment more, then its legs curled together and it slumped to the ground, becoming still.

When Din:ai was sure the creature was dead, she crawled down to Alex. The human was clinging to their leg, clutching the horrific wound still leaking blood. Din:ai leaned over them tearing of her clothing covering her torso. She went to move Alex’s hands, but the deep growl the human made caused her to freeze. Din:ai had never heard such sounds come from humans, nor did she know they could do such things. They sounded as ugly as the creature’s. She stared down at Alex.

“Please remove your hands. We need to stifle the bleeding.” Alex stared up at her with large eyes, the white around the brown irises strangely animalistic. Scared and wild. Their chest was heaving, breath loud and raspy. They growled again, baring their teeth in a ugly grimace, then exhaling and letting their hands drop. Din:ai surveyed the wound before wrapping it. The beast had torn the flesh away from the bone, the off-white color unnatural underneath the red flesh. Bits of skin and meat hung from the wound, held together by the thinnest of muscle sinew. It was terrible.

Din:ai wrapped it, ignoring the red blood collecting on her hands. She instead focused on Alex’s wellbeing. “You are extraordinary.” She said. “I always wondered why you humans are held in such high regard. You should not be alive after that beast had you in its jaws.”

Alex snorted. “I’m from Australia.” They grunted, grimacing in pain. “I’ve seen bigger fuckers than that thing. Dealt with worse than that thing.”

Din:ai did not doubt her colleague’s words.

~~~~~~

Wow this was fun. This is the kind of stuff I like to write. Horror-thriller short stories with a little bit of badassery sprinkled in. Thank you again to everyone who bombarded my phone with notifications about how liked my first post was. That was wild. Brought me back to my Wattpad days. If anyone has any suggestions for future story prompts, I may or may not use it. I love writing about how humans can be stupid badasses, it brings in the serotonin. This blog might even become more sci-fi short stories with “humans are space orcs/Australians/insane” prompts. Dunno. lets see what happens.

[jakeyt]

Covet: Chapter 8 (Part 2.2 of 2)

PART 1 OF PART 2

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Covet Summary:

Life was good. No, life was great. 

Was. 

Until.

Jake Kiszka crashed into the picture.

You welcomed him into your life—your home. 

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

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

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

Warnings: MINORS DNI (18+); smut (!!); angst; substance use (marijuana); unprotected sex (p in v); CONSENSUAL sex (p in v) under the influence of marijuana; jealousy; negative self-talk; oral sex (f! receiving); anxiety; intense feelings of sadness; abandonment issues (as usual, PLEASE lmk if i missed anything that is triggering to you!)

Chapter Word Count: 21.3k (i’m very very sorry)

a/n: CLIMAX TIME! woooo!! i’m sorry for another mf 2 parter… thanks to tumblr’s fucking paragraph limit (*screams*)🫠. the entire chapter is 43k words long (didn’t mean to do that—sorry 🥲), so this is almost exactly half of it. BUT, never fear, I will be posting part 2 to this tomorrow, as it is COMPLETE and ready to go… but we’ve gotta keep up the anticipation, right? lol <3

please heed the warnings. there is some sex under the influence in this chap, and although it’s COMPLETELY CONSENSUAL, I know some may not like that (we are all different and that’s ok!).

HUGE thank u to my girls @joshym & @alwaysonthemend for putting up w me all the mf time and being dope ass beta readers and friends and agghhh... you two are the realest aaaand ilysm 😭

one more thank u to @welightthefire for being the most beautiful, incredible source for an upcoming situation in reader’s life. ily <333

Please enjoy the playlist as you read 🖤

enjoy!

-🌼🌼🌼-

August 17, 2022

You did your best to ignore the vibrating phone in your back pocket. 

Text after text kept coming in, begging you to check.

You knew who it was. With the way you heard every other brother’s voice except for his from the living room (or kitchen, wherever they were) and how desperate he’d been for you to not find out. 

But, instead of giving in, you just stared at yourself in the mirror, willing the ridiculous tears pooling in your eyes to stay at bay. It would be pointless to start fucking crying. There would be zero sense in crying over this. There was no relationship to fall apart after finding out about this. 

You hadn’t been cheated on.

So why did it feel like you had?

Because you’re a fuckass with your emotions, y/n, the lovely voice in your head told you. You need to learn how to be a stable adult before anything else. Things need to end. None of this is fair to Jake or his budding career, either. Do better.

Fuck. You didn’t want to end things with him. 

But you knew it was right to get out of it before you became any more entangled. You knew going in, that what you had wasn’t meant to last anyway. Being with Jake–fucking him–it was just a temporary thing. 

It wasn’t going anywhere. This was a short season. A blip in time. An indulgence. 

Nothing more. 

But it fucking hurt to be honest with yourself about that. 

Fuck. Stupid.

Jake had done a fantastic job at maintaining the agreement. All he’d done was be a good friend– someone to fuck around with. That was all he was and all he’d done for you. He had not broken any boundaries or any of your ridiculous rules.

The one who had let all of that fall to the wayside had been you. 

So you didn’t want to look at the texts. Didn’t want to see him apologizing for something that he didn’t have to explain himself out of. 

As tears ended up falling down your cheeks (because no matter how hard you tried to get them to stop, there was no stopping them), you realized that you were the only one to blame for the way you were feeling. You’d let him become your safe place. Your anchor. The person you longed to be around (and with) most. . . 

You realized that, most of all, you were angry. Angry with yourself. It would be stupid to be upset with him. He’d done nothing wrong.

If he was fucking her, that wasn’t any of your business. Like you kept reminding yourself, there was no relationship, and he was allowed to do whatever he wanted with other women. And it was definitely not his responsibility to explain anything – make you feel better for something that was your own fault.

You’d let yourself get too attached. Plain and simple. 

It wasn’t Jake’s fault that you’d put your guard down enough to feel so jarred and shocked by this revelation. This was on you. And you weren’t sure if you should apologize to him or just start separating yourself from the situation.

Start separating yourself from him. 

And fuck, there were the tears again.

You got some toilet paper to wipe your face, and took deep breaths. As you were measuring your breaths, you cleaned up the mascara that’d made a mess under your eyes. 

When you had these stupid crying fits, if you could find the strength to do it, it'd always helped you to focus on something that brought you pure joy. But, unfortunately, you’d put yourself in a bit of a hard place at the moment. 

Because the thing—the person—who brought you the most joy in your life currently was the same one you were crying over. 

The only other thing you could think of was your cat. 

Stevie. Who’d, thankfully, followed you into the bathroom, trotting behind you as she’d probably sensed that you needed her. She was a damn smart cat. 

So, you sat on the edge of the tub to pet her where she sat on the toilet seat. You were super fucking grateful for the little fluff ball. Her icy blue eyes found your crying ones, so she leaned her head in your direction, signaling for you to pet her. Then, she started purring, which brought the sort of serene calm that only a cat’s purr could. The vibration from her body to yours was bringing you back down to earth, reassuring you.

Then, as you were petting her, you felt your stomach pinch and twist in a way that usually signaled your least favorite, bloody aunt. 

Of course.

As you sat to pee and assess the cramps, you thought about it all, glancing at Stevie’s sweet face as she now sat across from you on the ground, licking at her paws. Things would be okay. They would. This situation with Jake wasn’t as serious as you were making it out to be.

Right?

You just weren’t fucking ready for the way it was undoubtedly going to hurt first, in order to be okay in the end.

After peeing, you lifted the toilet paper to see if you were truly that unlucky. And, you were met with what you already knew to be true: you were on your motherfucking period. 

Your life was going just great.

-🌼🌼🌼-

You’d thought it best to head to bed early, claiming that your terrible cramping stomach was causing you pain. (It was true– your period was good for something, at least. . . get you out of the room that had been suffocating you all night.)

All of the boys had seemed a little down about you leaving so soon, but you just bid them all goodnight and blew kisses in all of their directions. You were trying very hard to just act like your normal self. It was time to come back to fucking earth.

You had purposefully ignored Jake. You hadn’t looked at him at all after coming out of the bathroom, and your pocket buzzed with texts a couple times. But you kept it hidden in your back pocket.

When you’d gotten to your bedroom, you’d taken a Midol, willing the cramps to stay at bay. And when they started fading, you decided to try to sleep.

But all you did was lay there, staring at the ceiling.  

You could hear the boys talking in the living room. All about their upcoming festival that coming weekend. You were longing to be out there with them, but you just let yourself lay in your bed and listen to the little pieces of what you could hear through the door.

A lot of talking from the three that didn’t live with you occurred (well, mostly Sam and Josh), but Jake stayed oddly quiet. He was always one to jump in on music talk— especially if it had to do with the music he was making.

Every now and then you’d hear his input, but it happened very little.

You’d almost fallen asleep when you heard two hushed, familiar voices talking outside of the bathroom, which sat right next to your bedroom door. Through the blurriness of your opening eyes, you looked at the door through which you heard them.

It was Josh’s you heard first. 

“What is going on?” 

Then, Jake.

“What do you mean?”

A little huff-growl came from the charismatic mouth of the curly-headed twin. “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me, Jacob.”

When you heard Josh’s little growl through the thick wood of the door, it was a little funny. He was always so fucking dramatic, and you loved that about him. But it was simultaneously why you were scared as hell for him to ever find out about you and Jake. So, through the door, you willed Jake to play it cool. 

Quit wearing your emotions on your fucking sleeve, Jake, you thought, annoyed. There’s literally no reason for you to be upset. 

“I’m not,” Jake persisted, his voice stern enough to convince someone who wasn’t you (or his twin). “I’m just worn the fuck out.”

The last part sounded real, though. You could sense the slight weariness in his tone. Were you wearing him out?

“Is it Maya?” Josh questioned. “You got all up in arms when Sam brought her up. Are you still seeing her? I was honestly convinced you weren’t.”

Huh? Surely Josh would know if Jake was still fucking her. . . And if he didn’t know, surely it wasn’t happening. . .

The hope that momentarily rose in your chest was embarrassing. 

Because, just as soon as it was there, you were reality-checking yourself.

Josh also had no clue about the two of you, so. . .

Maybe Jake was just doing a stellar job at blocking some of the telepathic wavelength they normally shared. Fuck if you knew. 

“I guess you could say part of it is her,” Jake responded. “Saw her the other day, you know.” 

“Oh?” Josh wondered. “I thought you couldn’t date clients.”

“We’re not dating.”

“You’re involved.”

“I guess,” Jake said, relenting. 

Fuck.

“What do you mean you guess?” Josh challenged. “Are you or aren’t you?”

“It’s more complicated than that, Josh.”

Complicated? Goddammit. How had you been so oblivious to him being in a complicated arrangement with another woman?

“No it’s fucking not.”

“Yes it is,” your roommate insisted. 

And there he was, getting sensitive in reference to this woman, yet again.

“Jesus fuck,” Josh exasperated. “Whatever it is, you need to pull your shit together. Get it figured out because it’s clearly a touchy subject. And you and I both know now is not the time to get all up in arms with Sam about something like this.”

“I know,” Jake conceded. You envisioned him nudging at his nose with his pointer finger, shaking his head to himself. You’d spent so much time recently watching his reactions to things. . . you were becoming a pro at his mannerisms (when you definitely shouldn’t be).

“Now is not the time to be getting involved with anyone— especially if it’s just a quick fuck,” Josh emphasized the last part. Your heart lodged in your throat. “You know better, Jake. And you know that now is the time to focus on yourself rather than a woman– focusing on anything besides this monumental time in your life could hurt you.”

“Monumental,” Jake scoffed. “It’s just a festival.”

“You know it’s not. God, this is what I mean!” Josh said, his voice raising a bit. When he spoke again, he was back to using a muzzled tone again. “Quit acting like that. You’ve waited your whole life for this.”

“Josh, I really don’t want to talk about this.”

“You don’t want another Amelia situation— where you become so obsessed with a woman that you move to Illi-fuckin’-nois, put yourself on the fucking back burner, and give up on the thing you love the most. Because when you do that to yourself, you do it to all of us, too.” 

Amelia? There was no question to who Josh was describing. Putting a name to his ex girlfriend was strange, to say the least. By hearing her name, she seemed more than just a figment of history. Giving her a name made her that much more real – and it made everything else feel so much more real along with it.

The reality of your situation. And you’d be damned if you were the reason he gave up his fucking dream again–you’d known it was a possibility for him to do the same with you as he’d done with her. And Josh saying all of this made you feel completely validated in all of your original fears. 

You refused to be the one that ruined everything for them– for him. 

And to be viewed in such a negative light as Amelia was to Josh. . . that fucking terrified you, too.

“How dare you fucking bring her up? This is not the same fucking thing. You know that, Josh.”

“Are you sure? Because based on how you acted when Maya was brought up, I wouldn’t be so sure.” Josh scoffed. His voice softened when he added, “Can you just fucking look out for yourself—just a little bit?” He pleaded, his voice breaking a bit. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt again. Fuck, Jake. I would just really appreciate it if you cared about yourself the way you deserve–.”

You heard another snicker from Jake. 

“Stop it,” Josh sternly stated. You heard a muffled ‘ow’ from Jake. Had Josh hit him or something? Damn. “I’m tired of being the only one to care about your happiness, Jacob. You know I will continue to be here for you–always, but I need you to take this time in your career seriously. Don’t let an unstable relationship get in the way.”

In that moment, you knew that where you’d stood since the beginning in believing how important Jake’s career was had not been in vain. It was his dream—his career. . . His livelihood. It was also completely apparent that you had been correct in knowing how Josh would feel about an arrangement like the one you and his brother had going on.

The entire thing had been a foolish, selfish idea. . . 

You could slap yourself for giving into the temptation. 

Eventually, the conversation between the twins faded out. A couple of slightly dismissive “okays” from Jake and “I love yous” exchanged between the two. 

Then, you were met with the noise from the living room again. Planning, planning, planning from the four men. . .

And you were stuck in the still, quiet darkness of your room, making a plan of your own as the moon highlighted your covers and Stevie’s body curled in a peaceful, sleeping state.

Oh, how you envied your cat and her obliviousness to the stark, upsetting reality of life.

The entire interaction outside your bedroom between your best friend and the man you’d centered your life around as of late. . . 

It sealed what you knew you had to do.

-🌼🌼🌼-

August 19, 2022

You were deeply regretting being at this fucking music festival.

The busyness of everything around you was making you feel like a little bug— with fluttering wings that were about to get stomped. Ironically, your body was buzzing like an insect— from the inside out.

Your old friend, Anxiety, was along with you for the ride. Also Elsie.

And your cramps.

Thankfully, you’d waited to come until later in the day. The boys had been there all day, but you’d chosen to not go when they did, and instead wait for Elsie’s plane to get in at the airport so you could get ready, then arrive together. You were slightly shocked that she showed up on a sort of whim. But she’d been insistent on being at the festival to support Josh and witness this “big step” in his career. 

They weren’t performing until early evening anyway, so it would’ve been pointless to stand around while they busied themselves doing whatever the bands were supposed to do beforehand.

By the time the two of you had fixed yourselves up to attend and found your reserved place on the lawn, it was very nearly packed full. The security was, thankfully, super kind in accepting your VIP badges, so your anxiety didn’t flare up as bad as it could have as you made your way to the spot at the front. And having Elsie there helped a ton. 

But, combined with the mass amount of sweaty bodies and non-stop chatter and drunk singing and dancing around you, you felt your skin crawl, and as if you were about to combust from the inside out. These crowded places were not your forte, but you couldn’t pass up being at these shows. 

Elsie was right– this was a big step.

And Josh had been right when he’d told Jake it was monumental.

You’d seen the lineup. You knew who’d be performing at this festival– band names that any random person on the street would know. Not Metallica-type bands. . .not yet. But popular groups nonetheless.

Jake’s dream was coming true, and you had to be there to witness this. To experience it alongside him. While you could.

But, as you looked to your left, on the left wing of the stage, you saw them.

Her.

Her beautiful, bronzed skin on display in her black dress. Her perfectly shaped hourglass figure being complimented by the short length, and the deep V at the neckline. 

No VIP badge like yourself, but she was backstage with him. Did she arrive with him? They were talking animatedly, her hand naturally resting on his arm when she’d say something. Her boisterous laughter every time he would say something. (He is most definitely not that funny. Fucking tryhard.) Even as he tuned his guitar, she stood there. And without fail, he would glance up every now and then to add something. . . or to simply smile at her. 

It made your stomach lurch. You felt like you were going to be sick. 

And, of course, Elsie caught on. Her observatory brain catches everything.

You hadn’t seen her watching them with you, her eyes darting back and forth between you and them as you were stuck in your watchful trance. But you knew, as soon as she grabbed your tricep that she’d been tuned in to your reaction at the entire display.

“Who’s the new fling?” Elsie’s joking voice pulled you from where your stare had been placed for the last several minutes. 

Suddenly, you felt extremely on edge and defensive. Anger heated your blood to a boiling temperature.

“It’s none of our business, Elsie,” you snapped.

“Oookay,” Elsie scoffed, flipping her natural curls back behind her shoulder. She crossed her arms. “You can’t pull that shit on me. I saw you fucking watching them– making it your business. Just answer the question.”

“Bold of you to assume I even know her name,” you rolled your eyes, playing it off the best you could. 

The way she leveled you with her eyes reminded you how stupid it was to attempt hiding anything from your older sister. (Again, her observatory mind misses nothing. Even when you wish it would at times.)

You sighed, pushing a hand through your hair to wave it away from your face. Sweat was accumulating on your forehead, right at your hairline. You felt gross. “Her name is Maya.”

“Hmmm,” she hummed, squinting as she tapped her chin. “Maya. . . okay. How long?”

“Apparently since he moved here,” you replied, trying to keep the emotion from your tone. 

She gave you a look that said she knew better, but didn’t give you a hard time. (Praise God.)

“Wow,” she blew out a long breath through her lips, the color of mulled wine. “And then he fucked you midway through fucking her?”

You flinched at the wording. “Damn, crass much?”

“Shut the fuck up,” she retorted. “You talk the same exact way as me, bitch.”

“Whatever,” you said, annoyed by her, but comforted by the familiar banter. You missed her being around. . . so much. “And yes, the timeline seems to allude to that.”

“Does that upset you?”

You were glad she had the decency to pose the question. . . even though you knew she wanted to outrightly state what she already knew to be true.

“No,” you derided. “It’s just his classic asshole behavior,” the words felt wrong coming from your mouth. You knew he wasn’t an asshole. Moments in time, of him talking to you, comforting you flickered through your mind like a reel. You tried your best to cover it with another dismissive (yet truthful) response. “And, we’re not together now and we weren’t together then. He’s had every right to fuck whomever he pleased.”

“Mhm,” she grinned, still narrowing her eyes at you. But, she played along, her blue eyes catching sight of something behind you for a few seconds. “Well, however you’re feeling— I can tell you right now that he still thinks you're fine as hell.”

It was your turn to scoff, pursing your lips, painted in the same lipstick as hers. “What encouraged you to say something so asinine?”

“Not asinine,” she snarked, looking over your shoulder to the left wing again. “I’m literally currently observing this man devouring you with his eyes.”

Your skin heated, but you didn’t want to turn around. At the present moment, you didn’t know how to feel about him looking at you that way. Did you want that? Yes. Should you want that? Absolutely not.  Especially after you’d found out what had been happening behind your back for the entirety of your escapade– shit. No. Not behind your back. He hadn’t been keeping the fling a secret. He simply didn’t need to make you privy to it. There was no reason. 

In the back of your mind, you heard your obnoxious voice stating your rules for him (and now reminding yourself what had been set in place). 

“No questions or comments about dates the other one may have. It’s not our business.”

The last four words were ringing in your head, whether you wanted them to or not. Still, it made your heart sink to think that he was looking at you and Maya the same way. . .

Fuck. Don’t. Cry.

“Sis?” Elsie’s attentive voice yet again brought you out of your funk. “Talk to me.”

Your sad eyes were impossible to hide. It was getting harder and harder to fake in front of her. But still, you shook your head and mouthed a ‘no’ while also sniffling to dry up the tears.

“Okay,” she soothed, conceding for the time being. “But I’m not going to lie to you and tell you he’s not looking right at you. He hasn’t stopped fucking staring for the last several minutes.”

Truly not able to help it, you glanced over your shoulder to where you’d seen him before.

And she was completely correct. You felt the way his eyes burned against your skin, enveloping every piece of skin he could get his eyes on. 

Admittedly, there was plenty of skin for him to gape at. 

What you’d chosen to wear was pretty hot. A couple weeks ago, you’d ordered a few pieces online for the festival. Funnily enough, Jake had even given his input on some of it as you’d been leaning against him on the couch as you placed the order.

“You’re going to look so fucking sexy,” he had said. 

Those words are like a broken record playing over and over in your mind as you position yourself just so, popping your hip a bit in a way that makes your ass look really good. (If he was going to stare, why not make a little show of it?) It was a white piece that he had ultimately helped you decide on. 

(White was honestly an extremely risky move considering your current, fucking crampy situation.)

You hadn’t planned well according to your stupid ass cycle. Going off of your birth control, months prior, had thrown you ridiculously off track of your cycles.

Nevertheless, this (tiny) outfit was what you wanted to wear– what you’d gotten specifically for this occasion. So you were going to wear it, dammit. Knowing that festivals called for outfits on the more daring side, you’d gone all out in wearing as little as you possibly could.

The shirt was almost a halter top, but completely opened around your back and in the front. The only thing keeping your round breasts from being completely exposed, two pieces of fabric, connected at the neck. Although, your cleavage left little to the imagination. 

A delicate white corded rope wrapped around your body connecting the only two pieces of material that made up the entirety of the top. So, your chest was covered, but very nearly bare, nonetheless. 

Taking advantage of the exposed skin of your tummy, you opted to add a circle of sparkling rhinestones around your belly button. A little something special you planned a while ago that you hadn’t told Jake about, leaving it to be a sexy little surprise for him. 

The wrapped skirt, low-waisted and very short, made it easy to showcase the body jewelry Jake had specially picked out for you. 

You’d asked if he had any requests for the outfit since it was his event. And his only request had been to incorporate a little bit of body jewelry.

“To highlight this beautiful, magical body,” he’d said, reaching a hand around you to reach under your t-shirt. He’d traced a finger from your sternum, then below your breasts, and all the way to cross your tummy and hips. “I wanna see you sparkle underneath that bright sun.”

“And if it rains?” You’d turned, raising your brow and nudging his nose with your own.

He’d played along, and then gave the tip of yours a light peck. “You’ll still sparkle,” he’d smiled, making you feel so warm and cozy . . .

So, here you were, wearing the gold, belt-like chains that twinkled in the summer sun. 

There was one delicate chain that started as a dainty necklace at your throat, and trailed between your breasts, which accumulated in more pieces at your waist. The suns dangling from one piece added to the summertime vibe, and the other sparkly chains glistened against your skin. You’d even sprayed some sparkly body spray to add to the color of your sun-kissed, golden hue. Your makeup, lighter around the eyes, only some sparkly shadow and a slight wing to accompany your long, mascara-coated lashes. Hair in loose curls.

You’d wanted to look good for him.

And your ego was elevated by giving you his attention at the moment— even though Maya was standing there, right next to him. Albeit, she was busy talking to someone hidden behind the curtain, but his gaze was planted firmly on you. She could look up at any moment and see it. He wasn’t trying to hide the way he’d fixed his eyes on you. 

Even from where you stood, looking at him, halfway turned around. . . you could see how dark his eyes were, studying every last bit of you. You’d gotten used to seeing them darken like that. . . You were familiar with the way he was looking at you. His lids were drooping over his eyes, which raked deliciously from your white heeled boots, all the way up to where your own eyes were still watching him.

When your gazes intertwined, you felt your cheeks flare pink. Your breath caught in your throat at how he was intently poring over you. Your stomach tied in knots and your panties got wet when he bit his lip, winked at you, and subtly adjusted himself behind his guitar. 

Fuck, Jake, you licked your lips, biting your lower one softly. 

He looked hot as hell. His long, chestnut locks, flowing perfectly around his face with the occasional breeze. His black shirt, completely unbuttoned, showing you so much of his immaculate, golden chest and abdomen. Your eyes lingered on that solid abdomen— the same one that pushed just right, against you, as he would lay over you, fucking you with all he had. And his black jeans, tight against his glorious thighs.

When you saw him reach in his back pocket for his iPhone, he didn’t drag his lusty stare away until the very last second. Until he had to. Almost instantly, you felt your clear, festival-approved bag buzz against your hip. 

It was definitely embarrassing how quickly you snapped it open and looked at the text awaiting you on the screen. 

I really should turn the previews off, you thought absentmindedly, promising yourself you’d get that done soon, so as not to get caught exchanging these texts with him.

Little bit late for that, the stupid voice in your head shoved itself into your moment. It won’t even matter soon. 

But you pushed that critical voice the hell away. Just for now. 

When you opened your thread of texts, you avoided the texts from previous nights, still not wanting to read where he’d checked in on you. It was pointless to do so. And what awaited you below them was much better anyway.

Jake, 5:45 p.m.: I am rock fucking hard for you right now

Dammit.

Jake, 5:45 p.m.: how am I supposed to concentrate when you look like that in the crowd?

How am I supposed to make it through an entire performance of yours, so close to the stage? Watch you fuck your guitar and wish it was me. . .

Jake, 5:46 p.m.: One wrong move and those tits are out

Jake, 5:46 p.m.: goddamn. I need to bend you over

Fuck, Jake. Quit it. 

You squeezed your legs together, crossing them to alleviate the way you were throbbing.

Jake, 5:47 p.m.: I can’t wait to get you the fuck home after this thing is over

You squeezed your eyes shut, thinking of every bad, horrible, terrible thing you could. And when you opened them, you let out a breath you’d been holding in. But the pulsing happening in your underwear was still making you feel hot, sweating from more than the evening sun.

But when you glanced back up, he was gone. 

Half of you didn’t want to text him back, afraid he’d gone off with Maya to relieve himself. Though, to your relief, your eyes found her, still standing there, talking to a crew member. 

She hadn’t gone with him. . .

You tried texting him, reminding him of the sad, current truth of your body. 

You, 5:48 p.m.: I’m on my period, Jake. Lol. You know this.

Jake, 5:49 p.m.: I know. I haven’t stopped thinking about it, actually. 

Jake, 5:49 p.m.: I want you so fucking bad

Jake, 5:49 p.m.: do you want it?

Fuck. What did you say to that? You’d never had a guy want sex with you during your period. . . And the fact that he wanted it? Was willing to do it? That was fucking hot.

But you were conflicted since your period was your one way of staying abstinent from him. . . Fuck. You’d forced yourself to deny him because you were on your period. You’d even told him you were in hopes that he would be too grossed out to tempt you. But he wasn’t grossed out. He wanted you, still. . . And you needed him. . . so bad. . .

What would the harm be in just giving in to it tonight? Maybe attempting to have sex and forcing yourself to eliminate feelings while doing so would be helpful. . . a way to sort of ween yourself off of sex. (Fucking ridiculous, huh?) You decided you’d take time to think about it. Let the show play through first. 

It was completely against what you knew you should be doing: breaking all things off. 

You, 5:51 p.m.: How about we talk after the show?

You’d waited for him to respond, but he never did. It would have normally worried you, but you gave him the benefit of the doubt. He was at a music festival. Chances were, he was busy. They were also set to perform at six. You knew that much. And, right at 6:00, you were proven correct as you heard the beginning of screams and the beating of a bass drum. Before you looked up, you sent one more text.

You, 6:01 p.m.: Break a leg!

-🌼🌼🌼-

And break a leg he did. 

There’d been a few mishaps. Josh’s mic had gotten turned off midway through a song, Sam’s bass had been overbearingly loud at the beginning of the set, and Jake’s cord had initially had trouble picking up through his amp. 

You’d watched the first two incidents happen, hating it for the guys that they were having technical difficulties. But when Jake’s problem had occurred, you were feeling every bit of anxiety with him. You wanted to jump over the barricade and help him in whatever way you could. Ease his stress. 

But when his face had flashed with anger every now and again (very subtly— his professionalism impressing you), your cheeks had flushed at the way he’d looked so heated. Then, when he’d ended up yanking the cord from his guitar, his hand flexing around the cable, gripping it with all he had. . . You couldn’t stop what accumulated between your thighs. And when his lips had curled with a small growl, right as he turned around to switch guitars, giving up, your heart started beating, quick. Right below your breasts, rising and falling with every sharp breath you took. 

After that, he’d had no more issues, but you’d kept a closer eye on him than before (if that was even possible), for the rest of the set. There was literally nothing you could do from your spot, but just keeping a watchful eye made you feel better.

Though, he never looked out to find you, even though he knew exactly where you stood. In fact, he stayed rather focused on his brothers only. He watched them closely, looking as though he was ready to help if the need were to arise.

But there hadn’t been another problem for the four men. 

In fact, the rest had gone on without the slightest hitch. The way they seamlessly played off the mistakes was incredible, too. It truly showed their dedication to the art.

And the difficulties they’d encountered only added to the grand finale. . . The song you’d always associate with the first night you finally got what you’d so badly wanted. . . 

Edge of Darkness. 

Though, as much as you wanted to look at Jake (and the rest of the guys, of course), you had to look behind you to the hoards of screaming people. All of the women that were shrieking for them— it wasn’t a new thing, necessarily. . . But you were only used to the people who frequented small hole-in-the-wall shows. 

Not full-on festival goers. 

Not actual fans, reaching for one another, pointing their friends in the direction of a certain guy, doe eyes directed at each of the boys they’d scream for. 

Then there were the bras that were being thrown at the stage, over and over again. That was pretty funny— you couldn’t lie. 

But what wasn’t funny was the person watching from the opposite side of the lawn as you. She had her own section, too, maybe? 

From where you were standing, you weren’t sure if she did or if she was just GA. . . Surely if she’d been backstage she had a special place, though. . . If you were right in your assumption of her arriving with him, then you were sure that she had her own designated spot to stand. But why on Sammy’s side? Now your mind pwas running rampant. . .Had Jake been watching his brothers during the show? Or watching her when he’d looked that way?

Fuck— it didn’t matter.

All of this information you were trying to figure out. . . was just making your stomach churn. The way she watched him, biting her lip with a wide smile during his solo. Her eyes trailed his body in blatant admiration. 

Because she knows what’s underneath those clothes, the voice in your head reminded you. You’re not special. Can’t you tell?

But what really got you lost in your head, was when she started singing along with Josh. She knew the fucking lyrics. Every last word. As if she’d heard them a hundred times before.

That wonderful voice in your head suddenly reminded you of the fact that he was teaching her to play guitar. 

What if Jake was teaching her their songs during her lessons? What if she helped him write some of the material? What if. . . some of them were written about her? She had inspired him. . . of that you were almost completely sure. How could she not? She was fucking beautiful. She was not you. He would be insane to not feel inspired by just looking at her. 

Your mind began running far, far away from you with all of the unknowns surrounding the ever present mystery that came with Maya. Wrapping your arms around your body self-consciously, you looked back at the stage to try your hardest to enjoy the rest of the show.

You knew you were probably overthinking it, that it more than likely wasn’t that deep. But, anything was possible. And the way he had kept his involvement with her a secret for so long, (and if it weren’t for Sam, you’d probably still be blind to the fact that anything had ever happened between them) there were clearly things he didn’t want you to know about with her, or he would have brought it up. Despite your stupid fucking rules you had set in place. You knew he would have told you if he wanted to. 

It became increasingly obvious to you at that moment, watching Jake live out his dream on that stage with his brothers that you were most definitely not fit to live out the dream with him. She seemed to be so much more involved in it than you had ever been. Or tried to be. So selfish of you. 

Maya was so enthusiastic, so attentive to him beforehand. All day long, while you’d waited on Elsie, so as not to go to this event by yourself and look strange as the guys did their shit. How stupid was that? It sounded utterly foolish now. Because she hadn’t worried about that, coming no matter what, to be there with him.

Supporting him while you were being selfish at home. You were so concerned with other senseless things that you couldn’t be there with him to show him actual support. The necessary change, which lingered like a dark cloud over your head, just kept becoming more and more apparent. . . It would be foolish for you to not end things when it was obvious they needed to end.

-🌼🌼🌼-

When the show ended, Josh texted Elsie.  

No text on your end from Jake, but you tried not to overthink it. 

Josh had wanted you two to meet them backstage to get the “full experience,” as his message had iterated.

Then you were being ushered by security, who had apparently been told to locate you and transport you, filtering you into the area where the guys would convene after the show. 

Before you had too much time to stand and appreciate the space around you, you noticed Jake pass you, angrily. Storming off somewhere, it seemed. Your eyes followed him helplessly, worriedly. He didn’t even acknowledge you, his brothers trailing after him, but presumably giving up as they stopped in front of you and Elsie instead. 

It was excellent timing, though, because just as they’d come to a stop in front of you, Maya was coming up behind Josh, tapping him on the shoulder. Her long, inky waves billowed out like curtains around her heart shaped face. She seemed just as flustered as Jake had been. But where his was out of anger, hers was with an air of concern. 

“Where is he?” She’d asked, hastily, her brows drawn in with worry.

Fuck. Even her voice was effortlessly majestic. Without being able to control them, you felt the prick of tears behind your eyes. Your heart was going a million miles an hour. What did she know that you didn’t? Why was she so involved? Were you simply the one he wanted to fuck and sext? 

Why did it feel like it was just a little more than that with you? Had it been more than sex, ever? Was that something you’d conjured up in your head?

Josh had just rolled his eyes, motioning over in the direction in which he’d gone. “Over there somewhere, I guess,” he said. “But you’d be wise to let him be. He’s in a shit fucking mood. I told him time and time again he needed to replace that amp cable. He just wouldn’t listen to me.” 

She groaned and placed her open palm on her forehead, she scratched a well manicured finger to her shapely black brow. “I knew he would have an issue with that one of these days. I just hate that it was here.” 

She knew about it? About his amp cable that had apparently bitten the dust? It was like watching an entire new part of his life unfold before you, a part that you were not good enough to be involved with. Mundane things that only the people closest to him were aware of– but not you. 

You started feeling ten levels beneath her rank in Jake’s life. She was stories above you; you were obviously just a free pussy for him to park himself in when he needed it. A warm place for him to come home to, that was it. And you, so fucking willing to give it to him. His beautiful, sculpted body always made you so goddamn weak. 

You had remembered the texts you had gotten earlier– how badly he wanted to fuck you, despite your monthly visitor taking up residence. You’d thought it was so sexy that he still wanted to, that he was desperate to have your body tangled up with his no matter the circumstance. That had turned you on beyond all imagination. 

But now, as you were beginning to realize what you had meant to him in comparison to Maya. . . the feeling disappeared. Hell, she probably received those exact same messages as you, maybe even more. Maybe he had already snuck off somewhere to fuck her before you showed up. 

There was just so much you didn’t know. Your thoughts were swirling like a storm ripping through the sturdiest house, destroying everything deemed safe in its wake. He felt safe. Now, it all felt demolished. Maya was the perfectly ominous storm cloud blocking your rays of warm, shining sun.

All you wanted to do was go home, take a Midol, curl up under your blanket with your heating pad and forget about it all. Forget about Maya, forget about the festival, forget Jake. 

Maya was then gone, running in the direction of Jake while quickly thanking Josh as he gave her a half smile with a “yeah, no problem,” leaving his tensed lips. His love stricken eyes were glued to your sister, relieved to see her. It was obvious he was only concerned with her being there, rather than Jake’s pissy theatrics. 

He also lacked any emotion at what was happening behind him. As if it were the norm. The beautiful woman who was being shown by security where to go, being led directly to the man that had given her more of himself than he’d ever even thought to give you. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

Hours later, as you sat in your bed, face washed and in a giant t-shirt, sweatpants, and fluffy socks, you wished you could just go to fucking sleep.

You’d tried reading a steamy romance to distract you, but that had been a witless idea as all that had done was make you cry. The characters, hopelessly in love, looked like Maya and Jake in your head– so meant to be and written in a way that left them utterly transfixed with each other. Your brain was fucking wired and going crazy.

I knew this was a risk.

I knew emotions were bound to get involved. 

I knew that I was going to get hurt one way or another. 

You’d already cried plenty once you’d arrived home. What had started the onslaught of tears had been seeing his door, hanging open like it had been earlier, as he’d left in a flurry to make it to the festival. He’d kissed you before he’d left, and you’d bid him good luck. Your body had been filled to the brim with reassurance that things weren’t completely off. That maybe you had overthought some of the way you’d felt in the bathroom on Wednesday. Maybe you’d misunderstood him and Josh. 

You felt like a fucking moron, now, for getting butterflies at the interaction. Any time he’d ever kissed you, that same fluttery feeling occurred in your tummy, and it all felt ridiculously in vain now. Completely misplaced wistfulness and giddiness. 

Why had you gotten your hopes up at all?

You had just decided to take an ibuprofen to help with your cramps and hopefully lull you to sleep (as it usually did), when you heard the front door quietly open and close.

You had heard your phone buzz a few times in the past couple of hours, presumably messages from him. Everyone else had heard you say you were going home. And you knew what Josh and Elsie were most likely up to, far too busy to text. . . But you had opted to just ignore them. You hadn't even bothered looking at the bright screen. You didn’t want to talk to him.

After a few moments, there was a soft knock on your door. Then another. “Y/n? Are you asleep?” He had asked, his voice so soft.

You didn’t answer. The tears that climbed your throat made you think better of that.

“Are you okay?”

Again, you didn’t answer. You decided to pretend to be asleep. To avoid him altogether. 

Any other time, you’d be jumping down this throat, picking an argument over literally anything just to satisfy the hurt you’d sustained. But tonight, it was different. You just didn’t have it in you. 

You didn’t have the energy. You were sad, not necessarily angry. And you wouldn’t dare let him see you that way.

Aside from that, you knew that if he advanced you the way he’d said he wanted to earlier, you’d give in to his allure. You knew yourself all too well. And that was the last thing you wanted to give him. You had no clue what you were anymore, so why in the hell would you risk doing that? Continue to give him more of yourself when he wasn’t giving you all of himself? If that’s what he wanted so badly, Maya would surely be more than happy to fulfill that for him. 

“Well,” he started, his voice even softer than it was before. You could have ignored it. But, in spite of yourself, you hung on to each rasping word. “I know you’re probably asleep. I just– I wanted to tell you how beautiful you looked tonight and how glad I was that you were there. I always perform better when you’re there,” he cleared his throat, then continued. “Sleep tight, baby.”

You heard his footsteps lightly step away, heading to his room. You heard his door open and then shut soon after. 

Like a flood with no dam to hold it at bay, heavy tears began streaming down your face. Your pillow was soaked with your emotions in a matter of seconds. You brought your hand up to cover your mouth in an effort to quiet the choked sobs as they came from your throat. You just wanted to sleep. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

August 22, 2022

That following Monday, school started like you had been dreading.

But when the day came, you sort of accepted it as something that could alleviate some of your pent up emotions. Thankfully, you weren’t on your period anymore for your feelings to be raging.

However, they were persistently there. Mocking you for still being involved with him when all signs were pointing to him being involved with Maya, too. She was exactly what he needed.

You were a placeholder. Insignificant. Convenient.

So, when classes came along, they helped to bring some of your sense of purpose back. You were able to count on your coursework, professors, and peers to remind you that you were more than being free pussy for your roommate. You’d let your emotions guide you more into being angry than sad. It helped you to let them melt to a simmering ire. 

For instance, avoiding Jake had been easier. You had been able to rely on your period, the temper that bubbled below your skin, your work schedule on Saturday, and a meeting that he and the guys had participated in the Sunday after the festival.

Of course, he’d asked if you were okay whenever you’d seen him, but you’d given him barely-there responses like:

“Yeah, just tired.”

“Thinking about a lot.”

“Hormones are just insane right now. . .“

“School’s getting ready to start, so I’m just gearing up.”

“Don’t worry about me.”

Every time, he looked at you like he didn’t believe you were telling him the whole truth (how did he always know?). You knew it was a complete 360 from how vulnerable you’d let yourself be with him recently, but you silently relied on how long it had taken you to open up prior. Because you knew that he knew from experience that you didn’t like to overtly open up all the time. So, naturally, that also meant he didn’t push it a whole lot.

But you caught his glances– wondering and worrying about you. It was definitely fair for him to be curious, of course, but you’d just ignored his curiosity– pretended to not pick up on it. Acted oblivious. 

He’d texted you good morning texts every morning, too. Which he hadn’t always done before. . . but it was like he was trying as hard as he could to get you to trust him with whatever was going on in your head.

All you ever did was send a small “Morning!” or “Have a good day!” back, though. . . Mentally all you could revert back to was that he was probably the same exact way with Maya. Acted concerned for her. . . wanted her to trust him and open up to him and sleep with him. . . 

And you were sure it meant more to him with her. She was special. You were not. You were you. 

Average. His roommate. Sometimes maybe a friend.

You didn’t know though. Because any time he had acted like it was more, it had maybe just been a weird ploy. Why he felt the need to deceive you in any regard– like getting to you and figuring you out and being close to you for no reason– that was beyond you. 

You just knew people couldn’t always be trustworthy. Even the ones you wanted to trust most of all.

-🌼🌼🌼-

August 26, 2022

The bell on the door chimed, telling you someone was entering the shop, but you didn’t glance up to see who it was as you were in the middle of unpacking a random box of new vinyl.

You were just ready to get home. So ready to get off work. You weren’t even worried about Jake being there. You knew he had the day off, but you didn’t give two shits. He would cease to exist the moment you crossed the threshold of your home anyway. Your bed was calling your name from here. You were tired as hell.

The first Friday of every school year was normally tiring, but this one was worse due to the stressors of your personal life and the already-searing intensity of senior year.

“Hello, my love.”

That voice. It never failed to make your heart leap with delight. Your eyes were still tired, but your heart, now elated and full when you looked up to see Josh. For some reason beyond you, it just seemed entirely right for him to pop in. Felt like old times– before you worried about all kinds of shit. Him being present made everything feel tranquil in your current, opposite predicament. 

And his next words tempted even more tranquility. 

“I’ve got some fucking exquisite pot,” he beamed, one hand on his hip and the other balanced above his head, on the wooden shelf of records that you were stocking with more. 

You giggled, your eyes blinking tiredly. “Where the fuck is it? You already smoke some?”

“Fuck no, little mama,” he shooed away your words with his hand. “I’m waiting to do that with you.”

How did he know that this was exactly what you needed?

“Way to show up and rub it in my face while I’m stuck at work,” you rolled your eyes, smile still sitting easily on your lips. “That’s just rude, Joshua.”

He snorted. “You’re like ten minutes away from being off the clock, drama queen. I’m just letting you know I’m on my way to your place with it. We’ll be waiting for you.”

“Who’s ‘we’?” You smirked, raising a brow at the Indie vinyl that you were tucking in its spot. “You and Mary Jane?”

“Technically, I guess,” he stated as if he appreciated the slight joke. “But the guys as well.”

You froze with your hand on the record you’d just placed. Fuck. Ugh. No. 

That is literally the last thing I need, you thought, cross.

You grumbled under your breath, smoothing the top of the sleeve, trying to play it off. How could you convince him to ditch the others? The man who was the precise reason you wanted to get high off your ass?  “What happened to the days where just you and I would hang out?”

“Now that would be rude of me to not include at least one of them. . . as Jake was the one to mention you needing something to ease some stress,” he picked at a nail. “And the other two are just always there.”

What? What all had Jake told your curly headed friend? Why was he even talking about you? He needed to mind his fucking business.

“He wanted you to get me high? That’s gentlemanly.”

He cleared his throat, prompting you to look at him. His wide eyes were narrowed at you, a look of judgment swimming in them. “No. . .? Why would you assume that? Jake would never suggest getting a woman high to calm her down. I personally just enjoy feeling like the fuckin’ air to alleviate my worries, so. . . I decided on the weed.” 

His full eyebrows were still crinkled, mildly hidden by his growing hair. The curls touched the arch of his brow now, falling loosely over his ears. He finished with some words that cut through to you in a way you wished they wouldn’t. “He might be a dick sometimes, but he’s not all bad. You really need to stop thinking so little of him.”

Ouch, Josh. Stay in your lane. Don’t counsel me.

“Well, he’s the one who brought it up,” you said, tone still sharp and cutting through Stevie Wonder’s voice, ironically singing of being too shy to say things. “I just figured it had all been his idea.”

“Well, no,” he said, correcting. He backed up just a bit to lean against the front of the counter to talk from there. No one was in the store. Save for the fact you were talking about Jake, this felt so like the past. . . before everything. You could’ve cried (so much crying, Jesus). He crossed his legs at the ankle and arms at his chest. “All I told you was that he told me you were stressed and a little sad.”

Sad and stressed? Also, how did he know you were sad? That was a matter of assumption. Again, he needed to mind his damn business.

“Well, I don’t know why he’d go and assume I’m sad. That seems invasive as hell,” you began. “But I have been stressed. Why he’s telling you, I don’t know. But you already know the beginning of the school year is always a lot.”

Also, your brother and his girlfriend are all I can think about and it’s making me feel like dirt.

“I think he cares about you. Weird as it may seem, he has a soft spot for you,” he says, his eyes glinting and a little smile tugging on his full lips. “I mean, for God’s sake, he went to your grandparents’ house with you. . . He wouldn’t do that if he didn’t.”

Your heart was beating erratically in your chest. It didn’t matter. It didn’t fucking matter. For all you knew, he did the same shit with Maya. You weren’t special. But why did Josh taking the time to tell you this make you feel like maybe you were just a little bit unique? 

You couldn’t help but ask your next question. You were hoping it didn’t give you away. But Josh was the perfect person to ask. . . Nonchalantly as possible, of course. 

Continuing to sort through records in the massive delivery box, you avoided his eyes when you asked, “Doesn’t get soft for people easily?” 

“One could say he picks his people. . . And I guess you’re one of them,” he offered as his answer. Then, you saw his hand grab into the box to help you with the records. You peered up to where he’d positioned himself in front of you. “And who wouldn’t go all soft for you, y/n? You’re one of the most precious humans this world has ever been given. I knew it was only due time until Jake noticed.”

As soon as he said it, he’d smiled, and decided to go about his business helping you. But you just kept staring at him. The tears that welled in your eyes were unavoidable. You needed to hear that. As you felt a few fall down your cheeks, you walked around the box to where Josh was now stocking a re-release of Lana Del Rey’s Born to Die — Paradise Edition on the old, creaking shelf. 

He made a sound of surprise as you wrapped your arms around him in a bear hug, holding on for dear life. It didn’t take him long to adjust to the feeling, though, as he enveloped you all the same. His familiar, strong arms wrapped around you just as they always had in times like these. Times where he’d said exactly what you needed to hear without knowing it. He was an empath through and through. 

And God were you thankful for him. You didn’t deserve him. Your tears continued for a bit, wetting his white t-shirt. Breathing in, and sniffing a bit to rid yourself of the tears, you backed away after squeezing him once more. His eyes were searching yours when you let go of him. Ever-attentive, reading you however he could whenever he felt the need. . . 

“I’d say he was on to something,” was all he remarked, going back to the records. “Let’s get these done and get the hell out of here, what do you say?”

“Yeah,” you responded, your voice still wet.

“Oh, and speaking as someone who loves the fuckin’ shit out of you, I need you to start taking care of yourself and rid your life of what is making you feel so sad,” he softly advised. You glanced over to him, seeing him still going about his task, but talking away. “You deserve to feel happy and whole. . .and I need you to do whatever it takes for you to feel that way. Please take care of yourself, love.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

Once you finished and were heading out the door with Josh, you decided that you were going to try your best to let yourself feel free tonight. It was what you needed. One last hurrah as senior year kicked off. 

And one last night with Jake before you did what you knew you had to do. . . You had to be done with him. All it was doing was dragging you down. And, talking to Josh tonight had made you realize, once again, that you couldn’t chance him finding out about you and his brother. You knew he would feel utterly betrayed by you, and he was far too important to you for you to risk that. 

Jake was also important— his career was shooting off and you were not the right person to join him on that new journey in his life. In your opinion, no one should join him on that journey. . . It was his and his alone. But if he were to have someone on that path with him, Maya was a much better candidate for it than you. 

Chances were, she was probably the one that he wanted on that next step of his life as well. She was the ideal person to take that leap with him. Utterly supportive. Unselfish. Completely beautiful. . . The perfect girlfriend for a rockstar. 

Continuing things with Jake made no sense. There was no use pretending that what you had with him was actually meant to last.

-🌼🌼🌼-

When you got home, you immediately went to the bathroom to refresh. You decided to take off your makeup and wash your face. Knowing yourself too well, you knew it wouldn’t happen later when you were three sheets to the wind. Josh had followed in directly behind you. He started telling the guys what he needed before they began. He started with his long-haired twin. 

“Food, Jacob?!” Josh yelled in the direction of the kitchen, from which you smelled delicious smells wafting. 

“Aye aye, Captain Stick-Up-Your-Ass,” Jake replied loudly.

“And what did you decide to pick from your expansive catalog of recipes?” Josh said, slapping something. You could assume it was Sam when you heard the younger brother’s voice exclaim with an “ow!” 

Then you heard Jake’s voice, like velvet, but loud enough for Josh to hear.

“Ramen bowls,” he called back. “She loves them.”

Your heart leapt at that. Why was he being so sweet? Was he like this with her? Remembering her favorite meals?

Because he was already making the food that Josh was demanding, Jake hadn’t taken notice of you when you'd come in alongside Josh. So you’d been able to slip past unnoticed. No one had acknowledged you, in fact. Sam and Danny had been too busy on the couch, flipping through their phones, showing each other different women on Tinder when you’d passed through the living room.

“Incense. Samuel, your job— did you bring any like I asked?”

Halfway paying attention, you heard Sammy give an agreeing grunt. 

“Let’s start lighting ‘em up, then,” he commanded. He snapped his fingers, probably right in Sam’s face. “No time to waste, Sam. Come on.” 

Then, grumbling, you heard Sam tell Josh to “fuck himself”. But you assumed he’d done as he was told with his aromatics, as you smelled the familiar heady scent of incense. The scent he’d chosen was Godsent. Ideal for your state of unrest.

The lovely scent of lavender was already whirling from the front of the apartment, straight to your room. Even with the door closed, you were catching the relaxing smell.

“God, I love the smell of lavender,” your roommate said, pure admiration in his tone. “Instant serenity.”

Sam responded, pride in his voice as he explained his choice. “We all know y/n has been stressed,” they all know? “So I chose lavender for its properties to cleanse, heal, and bring happiness. I was also considering its elements for peace, harmony, relaxation, and love. I wanted her to feel all of those things. She needs it.”

Your heart felt whole. You did feel the love. 

But your thoughts flew around, bumping the sides of your head. ‘She needs it.’ What is that even supposed to mean? 

“Yeah, she’s just been off. I want her to be able to feel more like herself,” Jake voiced, sighing. “I’m still not sure about the weed. I don’t want her to feel any lack of control— because that might make her worry more.”

Stop showing how much you care, Jake. It hurts and it’s going to give something away.

But keep going, too. . . Please. For me.

It was Josh’s turn to sigh. “Jacob, I’ve told you. This is something she’s done with us before. All of us. Besides you, of course, I’m assuming,” he paused, slowly iterating his next words. “She and Elsie used to do it with us, like, once a fuckin’ month as a ritual to bond and decompress from life.” His tone was exasperated, as if he’d explained a million times what he’d just said. And he wasn’t wrong. You could confirm everything he was saying. 

He continued. “She can handle her green. I promise. I’ve done it with her time and again.” Then, his voice got stern, unwavering. “I would never recommend she partake in something that would make her feel out of control. That’s not me. Take a second to remember that,” he leveled. “But she does need to feel the peace and freeness that comes with marijuana’s natural magic. We all know it works wonders to ease the chaos within the human mind.” 

“Okay,” Jake relented. “I’ll take the bait. I believe you.”

“Thank you. Now, I’m going to start making things cozy, cue up some music. . .,” Josh said. “Daniel, dim the lighting. I’m gonna light some candles.”

You started pilfering through your drawer of leggings. You found your favorite pair. The pair that made your ass pop. Then you sorted through your drawer of cropped tanks. Once you’d found the one you wanted, you felt your cheeks heat. 

Did you want to do this? Dress like this? Was it a stupid idea? Was this foolish? A smart idea? It would be stupid to deny who you were wanting to dress like this for. . . But should you do it? Would it be obvious?

You dress like this all the time, y/n, a kind of voice reassured you within your cluttered mind. It wouldn’t be abnormal for you to wear it. 

Jake’s voice cut through your internal ramble.

“Are we having a fucking orgy, Josh?” Jake asked. His hearty chuckle and the blatant mention of sex made your chest tighten and your stomach flip as you gripped the gray cami in your fist. 

“Jake!” Josh’s voice snapped, offended. He was out of breath, as if he’d been busy working away at his self-given task. “No one in this humble abode has had sex with another, and I don’t plan on starting that tonight.”

Your heart rate sped up. All of a sudden, you were completely aware of your state of undress from where you were squatting next to your dresser. Naked (save for your bra and panties), in your bedroom. And the fact that Jake was out there, alone. 

You suddenly longed to be close to him. For more than one wanting reason. One reason left your heart pumping in your ears and your underwear feeling obscenely constrictive.

The lesser reason being, you were dying to know what Jake’s reaction to that had been. But you hadn’t heard him make a peep. If you were being honest with yourself, you knew his reaction had been subdued, playing it off. He wouldn’t outwardly expose it. You knew him better than to assume that. 

I really do need to be better at giving him the benefit of the doubt, you thought, sadly. 

You knew it was too little too late. 

Then you heard Josh laugh. The same little laugh he’d do when he would think of something he found funny. “Now if Elsie were here. . .”

You heard all three of them say “Josh!” in unison to his remark, having joined in if you were in there, too.

“What?! The girl knows how to twist that tight body just righ—.”

“Lalala,” Sam sang to himself. You imagined him covering his ears, masking Josh’s voice. 

“What?! She is the best I’ve ever—.”

“Josh, with all due respect,” Danny’s soft voice cut through. “Please shut the fuck up.”

Yes, you thought. Ew, Josh. 

“Brother,” Jake chimed in, once again calling from where he most likely still stood in the kitchen. “Dinner is ready. So, please, come stuff your face and let our ears breathe.”

And, as if your stomach truly was in tune with it all, it grumbled.

-🌼🌼🌼-

Dinner was incredibly delicious (as you knew it would be), resulting in it being downed in no time. 

The five of you had sat around your little dinner table to eat, and it’d felt so nice. But the entire time, you never looked across the table at Jake. You’d also avoided him as you made your plate, only glancing at him out of the corner of your eye to give him a small ‘thank you’ as he talked to Josh. He’d blinked a few times and responded with a “Y-yeah, of course.” 

But now, as you sat around the table after supper, you wouldn’t dare look at him. It was a lot to get the courage to do so. 

For one, as weird as it was, it kind of intimidated you to do so. He intimidated you. . . Especially now that you’d gotten a good look at his other pick of women. The ones that weren’t you. Maya was exquisitely stunning. Just like the one he’d made out with months ago on the couch— the day he brought the lavender to you at work. (The day you’d been an asshole to him, yet again, for no reason.)

You knew you weren’t as beautiful as either of those women. He was far too out of your league. You’d known this to begin with. It was all just repeatedly slapping you in the face now. . . Like normal, he made you all nervous and jittery. But it was different now. You knew you didn’t measure up, and it was embarrassing that he’d ever given you a chance, honestly. Embarrassing for him.

Every negative thought that you could have was tearing at you. . . It was as if seeing Maya that first day, and then hearing what you did from Sam had just set everything off. Everything. 

As you watched Josh and Sam pick at one another’s opinions on the most idiotic things, you spaced out, pondering why you were feeling so much all at once. Was this another result of your childhood trauma? The overthinking? Or was this just you, being a complete trainwreck of a human being? 

Either way, it was ridiculous and you wanted to be rid of the thoughts immediately. It was getting really old really fast. But you couldn’t shake them. Because, despite how annoying it was that they wouldn’t leave you be, you still felt they were true. 

And had been true since you were a kid. Practically since you were born. The facts could not lie. You weren’t good enough for your own mother. You’d been relentlessly terrible towards Elsie growing up. You’d been consistently unfair towards Jake. . . 

There was very little good about you, and you were starting to feel it put a damper on all things in your life.

God. You desperately needed therapy. Your struggles with anxiety were becoming all encompassing. The depression was sprouting without welcome.

He’s shown plenty of interest, y/n, your kind, consoling inner medium expressed. Stop acting like you’re less than the other women. Please. You know better. Don’t let your thoughts get ahead of you. . . 

Damn that voice sounded more and more like Elsie any time it managed to break through the darkness of your mind.

Sam’s cackle brought you back to reality from your mess of cluttered, stressful, spiraling thoughts. 

“That’s what I’m saying!” Sam exclaimed, pointing directly at his best friend who was sitting across the table from you, right next to Jake. “Thank you, Daniel!”

Josh’s scoff under his breath would have been highly noticeable even if you hadn’t been sitting next to him. You looked to your right to observe him and his reaction. 

“Birkenstocks are highly, highly overrated,” he insisted. “I seriously thought you were above the trends, Sammy. . . Now all I can assume is that you primarily care to partake in the highly popular things like other, normal people.”

“I’m not normal!” Sam declared, completely aghast at the comment. “Take it back, Josh.”

“Seems that you’re pop music personified. . .,” Jake said, teasing Sam as Josh had. 

Without even meaning to, too lost in everything going on around you now, you shot Jake a glare. And a response. 

“Shut the fuck up, Jake,” you intervened, your tone serious, but voice catching a little on his name. 

Apparently, of all things, talk of sandals were what could break your vow of avoiding Jake at all costs. Honestly, it was just Sam’s doleful reaction to Jake’s words. He’d gasped, his eyes curving down even more than normal, lip sticking out.  

Once you’d connected eyes with Jake, you got lost for a few seconds in the rich pools of chocolate that made up his deep set eyes. . .  It was kind of like a readjustment. You were really looking at him for the first time in days. Your ridiculously hot roommate. The same man you’d memorized in every way you could for the past month or so. . . You were reacquainting yourself with his features. 

You didn’t want to admit it, but. . . It felt like a piece of your heart was clicking back into place— after you’d given him the cold shoulder all week. His eyes felt so familiar and warm.

Initially, his eyes had widened. He’d seemed shocked that you’d spoken to him at all. But, after he’d stared at you for a moment, he raised a smart brow. Your heart rate increased at the action.

Then, he resituated, pushing his chair back from the table just enough to show his spread legs. You couldn’t control it when you glimpsed his crotch for five seconds. It was as if you were unable to resist— you’d finally taken the bait and broken the fine ice between you two. So, it seemed your eyes worked on their own and made up for lost time. . . Just for a few seconds. 

It’s been a fucking week, y/n, the snarky voice in your head mocked. You are too fucking weak for him. Why did you let him in? How are you going to be able to completely cut him off? Weak.

You noticed him push his hips up and out to lean back a bit. The action effectively shut off the voice in your head and made you twitch for him in your leggings.

I sure as hell am weak, you sassed back. And right now, I don’t care. And it’s been nine days. Not a week. 

He crossed his arms over his chest, flexing his strong, skilled fingers into his toned biceps. Not meaning to, you licked your bottom lip. 

Your body was craving him. Yearning for him. You’d gotten used to regular sex with him, and the nine days you’d been abstaining from it were catching up to you. How were you going to be able to cut yourself completely off?

You weren’t ready for that yet. 

But you have to be, the familiar voice reminded you. Enjoy it while it lasts because it’s almost over. You’re only hurting yourself more by extending this ridiculous escapade.

I’m already hurting. Fuck it. I will enjoy it while it lasts, you fought back, shoving the voice off of your shoulders for the time being. Josh is right. Tonight is about me feeling fucking free.

You accepted the challenge. The situation. You were ready to give in to the evening. Your insecurities could wait. They’d have their time soon. Tonight you wanted to ignore all of it. Now that you’d gotten a taste, you wanted to take a damn bite.

Skin now hot and senses tingling with his name, you peeked back at his face and found his waiting expression. Your eyebrow raised, too, darkening eyes trained on his. The way he was watching you, it was like he was testing you. But you weren’t going to give in too easily. Your heart was still hurting, and you weren’t going to bend at just anything. He could work for it. 

Just like you’d convinced yourself earlier. . . This was one last hurrah. Might as well make the most of it. Drag it out. Just for tonight.

“I’m tired of the obnoxious assholery filling up this room,” you stated, looking away from Jake to address the other two Kiszkas. “Let’s burn a few so you guys will shut the hell up.”

-🌼🌼🌼-

The haze had your mind in the clouds, but not so elevated that you weren’t aware of the happenings all around you. A good state, where your mind could still make cognitive sense of everything, but high enough that all of your worries vanished with each wave of smoke you blew from your mouth. You learned from Elsie the ‘proper’ way to get high, as she called it. One long, drawn out inhale of the smoke, fully filling your lungs and holding it as long as you could before blowing it out in one slow exhale. Less coughing that way, and the most effective way to really feel the effects without it being so intense. 

You’ve never loved the feeling of being completely inebriated. Far too often you’ve lost control of your intake, and at that point it would open the hypothetical doors to your past, forcing you to sit in your feelings. Too much of it could be dangerous for your psyche. But, you’ve learned how to control it. You’d discovered the perfect amount that had you feeling weightless and free, your body tickling with the warm fuzzy feeling that allowed you to finally relax. 

All of you had your own designated spot in the room– whether it be on blankets, pillows, the couch, or the armchair. You’d been given the couch to lay upon to smoke (as you’d been given first dibs, per Josh’s requirement). 

And the man who couldn’t escape your mind sat a few feet away from you, perfectly placed in your line of sight on a pile of blankets and pillows. His hands were in his lap, his legs crossed at the ankles, and his broad shoulders eased while his head laid back. 

Josh sat above him on the armchair, his limbs loosened to noodles. Just as Josh started to lay back and close his eyes, he sat up lazily. His eyes, reddened and heavy-lidded, looked around to survey the rest of you.

“We’re in desperate need of some tunes,” Josh said, dragging out the words with a giant grin plastered to his face. “Anyone opposed?

You were laid back against the arm of the couch, sprawled out. And you barely heard him as you’d become utterly transfixed on Jake. . . how he’d balanced the base of his head on the ottoman of the chair, eyes closed as he most surely let the feeling of smoke in him and around him delight his system. 

The other two had agreed, but you hardly paid them or Josh any mind. You didn’t wholly process him searching your vinyl collection, picking one from the top. 

“Ah, yes. Perfection at its finest,” he made an approving sound with his teeth as he placed the disc on the turntable and read the tracklisting. “This woman was spellbinding.”

At once, you heard the silken scratching of the vinyl from the needle as the record began to spin. An all too familiar album began playing. 

Your head perked up as much as it could while simultaneously feeling stuck in the clouds. Sam and Danny were basically gone, just bobbing their heads a little to the rhythm. But they seemed to be fading away by the way they rolled their heads further and further back against their pillows. 

Josh had a goofy smile on his face as he settled back into his chair, his hair fluffing around him as he softly nodded his head in tandem with her voice. 

You let your eyes travel to Jake for a brief moment, and saw that his eyes were still closed, but now his chest was rising and falling steadily. Had he fallen asleep?

Momentarily, you were disappointed. But you soon realized just how nice sleep sounded. . . Especially when you looked away from Jake to see his counterpart, completely zonked out with his mouth hanging open. Quiet snores were emitting from both of them, but Josh’s were louder thanks to his wide open mouth. Jake’s were barely there. . . more heavy breaths than anything. You knew it meant he’d drowsed only moments ago, a deep slumber not fully taking him yet.

You started to doze off a bit, settling into the way her soulful voice could lull you into a sweet slumber. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

You didn’t know what it was that jostled you awake. 

Maybe it had been the song change, and you’d just somehow caught on to this song while in dreamland. . . this wonderful song. . . dammit. 

I will go where you lead

I'll be right there in a time of need

And when I lose my will

You'll be right there to push me up that hill

You sunk into the feeling of it, but your attention was caught again.

There was muffled shuffling happening in the distance, your senses heightened by the smoke, helping you catch on to the smallest of sounds. Motherly instincts to your lovely feline child, who was sure to be causing the ruckus. 

What was Stevie getting herself into?

Lifting your head, you turned it to follow the noise happening in the distance. It was dark due to the late hour. . . you could hardly see. The candles, your only light source. 

From what you could tell, the sound was coming from the kitchen. Curiosity was pushing you into a sitting position. You rose without difficulty, your bearings coming back to you little by little. You’d smoked just enough for the escape, but the clarity was still there. Weed was so miraculous that way. Giving an individual just what he or she might need from it. It could mold to the requirements of its enjoyer. Aware as you were, the air around you still felt slow and heady. . . you felt every energy all at once. It made your head swim just a tad. 

As you stood, your legs felt like air. You rooted yourself into the sureness of the flat ground. The carpet tickled your bare toes, but you concealed the little sigh that threatened to escape you at the sensation. You were doing your best to not bother the snoozing bodies littered around you. 

From your new viewpoint, your eyes swept the room. Dreamily deciding to save the best for last, you started at one side of the room. You squinted at Sammy and Danny first. They were cuddled into their own blankets on their separate pallets, but facing towards one another still.

Next, you looked for Josh, who you didn’t really have to look for since you heard his snores before you saw him. Drool was gathered at the corner of his mouth, opened just as it had been when you’d closed your own eyes. Something caused him to rustle in his sleep, making him jump a little and sniff, one snore resulting in a snort. But just as he’d been shaken, his mouth was opened yet again, snores even louder this time. The drool slipped down his chin. You cringed. He was not an attractive sleeper. 

His twin on the other hand. . .the most beautiful sleeper you’d ever laid sleepy eyes on. So, you finally set your gaze where you'd been desiring. 

. . .To find nothing. No Jake. Where did he go?

Even amidst the wispy cloud of your mind, you immediately assumed the worst.

Had he invited Maya over? Had that been the sound? God you hoped not.

Even still, your feet moved on their own, all the way to the kitchen from the living room. . . you saw Stevie on your way there, asleep on the top of the couch. She’d nestled right above you. Naturally, you just hadn’t caught on because of your brain fog.

Not knowing what you were about to find, you rounded the corner. And what you found made your eyes water so quickly. The sight was so plain, so simple. . .but so incredibly wholesome.

Your whispered voice broke the silence. 

“Why are you watering my lavender?”

He jumped a bit, the tiny, gilded watering pail you’d gotten for it still mid-air when he blinked in your direction, his eyes adjusting to the vast darkness in your shared home.

“I was just putting dinner up and it looked a little wilty,” he said, sounding ‘wilty’ himself. “Have you not watered it recently?”

Shit. While immersed in your unreasonable head for the past several days, you’d ignored the plant. 

“No,” you responded, not providing an explanation. 

“I understand,” he said, a small grin on his lips and honesty in his eyes, even darker in the shadowy lighting. A candle on the bar was the only way you could make him out. “School starting and all. I bet your stress has been high because of that.”

“Yeah,” you absentmindedly agreed. But his words rang again in your head, things clicking slower with the pot. “Also, stop telling people I’m stressed,” you griped, crossing your arms (partially to keep yourself balanced). “Or sad. You don’t know.”

He emptied the rest of the water into the soil, feeling it with his fingers before washing his hands. Then he turned to you, his face pinched with shock. He shook his head a bit, his longer waves swaying at his collarbone. “It’s obvious you have been.”

Fuck. You knew you’d been transparent. It was something you flourished at– wearing your heart on your sleeve. And that also meant you were shit at masking your emotions. But why did he care?

“Okay, say I have. Still not your business to share,” you asserted, with a final nod of your head. 

He nodded, pushing his lip out. He lifted his hand to his chin to rub it a bit, a sign you’d learned to mean that he agreed. “That is fair. I’m sorry.”

You felt your head rock a bit and shut your eyes briefly to reset. The flow of the remaining green in your system was making you a bit dizzy. And while you were still with it and aware of yourself and your surroundings, you knew that it was probably time to go to bed. It was also getting to be too much talking to Jake like normal. 

Things weren’t normal. And you couldn’t pretend they were. It made your heart feel all blue. As much as you missed him–just talking to him, you decided to use sleep as the reason to excuse yourself. Before you told him every tiny thing on your mind. You knew yourself too well– when weed entered the picture, there was no concealing a single thought that crossed your mind. 

“I’m going to bed,” you said, turning away from him and starting the walk to your bedroom, your heart still with him and the fucking lavender in the kitchen window.

But just as you’d made it to your door, opening it just a smidge, you felt a warm hand encompass yours, which still twisted around the knob. You could have fallen into him. It felt so good to simply feel his touch. God, he really was so warm. So safe. So cozy. So Jake.

He doesn’t feel the same for you, the fucking nagging voice said, slipping through the thickness of the marijuana. You aren’t those things to him.

Go the fuck home, you told the voice, pissed beyond belief that it had managed to enter your hazy realm of escapism.

“I am home,” he said, his voice low and hot on your neck. The feeling grew goosebumps immediately. 

Fuck. You’d said it out loud. That was embarrassing as hell.

“I was talking to myself,” you revealed honestly–crazily, angling your head so you could speak over your shoulder to him. And just as you did, it became obvious just how close he was to you. His collar, level with your eyes. You looked up a bit to find him watching you. Carefully. Warily. But intensely all the same. 

“That’s endearing,” he said, the humor in his tone making you suddenly angry. 

You turned on your heel, resulting in him moving away from you a few inches.

No. Come back.

You fought the desperation in your veins. The desperation making your heart beat wildly in your chest.

“Why did you follow me? Acting like you care?” You said, your voice hushed and eyes flicking a bit so you could actually handle looking him in the eyes. “Stop with the bullshit.”

“Woah,” he screwed his eyes slightly at you, his voice level meeting yours. “You know I care.” 

He took one more step back. 

What are you doing? Stop leaving me.

You just left him, you idiot, your familiar, inner monster said, judging you.

“No. You don’t care. Not actually. And if you do, I know it’s not just for me,” the words spilled out, humiliating you. “I’ve had the past few days to realize that.”

Oh, fuck. Here comes honesty hour.

He crossed his arms at his chest. His biceps were distracting. Goddamn.

“So that’s what’s been wrong?”

You gave yourself a tiny moment to evaluate him. He seemed way too sober for this conversation to be an even playing field.

“Are you not high?”

He cracked a smile, nodding his head. “Yes, I am,” he looked down, seeming a little embarrassed. If the lighting wasn’t so dark, you could guess you’d see a blush on the apples of his cheeks. “Just done it enough that it looks different on me. Trust me, my head is fuckin’ swimming. Dizzy and shit . . . just didn’t want to fall asleep in there and get a crick in my neck. And I figured I’d put dinner away since I’m still more present than not. . .,” he paused, looking up at you. “But, I assure you, I’m definitely not all here.”

You had to giggle a little in spite of it all. God, he was so fucking endearing. You couldn’t put it into words at that moment, but. . . damn. The way he was— so many things about him that you lo—. . . fuck.

“That’s exactly how I feel, too,” you admitted, your eyes innocently meeting his. 

His smile widened, face relaxing. But the change in demeanor broke your heart and made your defenses rise. Emotions were breaking loose again. . .

“Okay, so,” you shook your head, rubbing your temples to re-center. You glanced at him again. “If you do care, why did you ignore me on Friday?”

He shook his head once. “Ignore you? I literally talked to you. I’ll go get my phone right now to prove it.” You flushed thinking of the conversation. How badly you’d wanted him. . . still wanted him. He kept going, saying, “I also wanted to talk to you when I got home. But you were already asleep. I didn’t want to wake you.”

I wasn’t asleep, you wanted to say. I was just sad. Crying because of you.

“You stormed off. Didn’t even try to talk to me about how you were feeling,” you said, words quiet, yet cutting the air. “Made it obvious that I matter so little to you that I wasn’t even worth talking to when you were upset. Tell me how little I matter to you. Just say it.”

“Fuck– god, no. I won’t,” he brought the heels of his hands to his eyes. “I don’t ever want you to think you matter little to me– you are literally every– fuck. I don’t know what to say.”

“I don’t matter as much as Maya,” you said, finishing his sentence with a forlorn statement, in a snarky tone of voice. Your heart leapt into your throat at having mentioned her so boldly. There it was. Out in the open. “That’s why you didn’t want to talk to me. Just wanted to talk to her.”

He looked at you, a thousand thoughts swirling behind his bourbon-colored irises. His lips pursed, then he released a tight exhale, his eyes resting directly on you as if he’d decided to tell you something. Ready to break your heart, surely.

“Say it, Jake,” your voice cracked on his name.

Jake huffed. “Y/n, you are the reason I was so fucking pissed that day. I wasn’t going to talk to you about–.”

“Me?!” You blanched, perplexed that he could pin anything on you. All you’d done was be there to support him the best you could. You pointed a finger in your chest, “What did I,” and then at him, “do to you, asshole?!”

The name slipped out. You hated that you’d said it. But, you did. 

“I didn’t say you did anything to me. Will you let me explain?”

“Go ahead,” you motioned your hand, the action feeling slow with the marijuana lacing itself through your veins.

“I was embarrassed as fuckin’ shit that my cord gave out at that festival,” he began, words a little sluggish. I could’ve guessed that. “And for a second, I was embarrassed about it happening in front of so many people. . . but immediately after, before I could think about that, I thought about how you had come out to that festival, so excited and sexy as hell ready to see me perform, and I couldn’t even hold up my end of the deal. I wanted to impress you, and I failed,” he shook his head, looking down, away from you, his hands coming up to cover his face.

You wanted to believe him. But you’d gotten so used to combatting him, that you couldn’t help reject his words. “Sounds fake.”

Instantly, he dropped his hands, letting them slap against his thighs. His eyes were wide. “Are you serious right now?” He sounded sad. Hurt. “I bare my heart to you and all you can do is tell me I sound fake?” 

Putting your defenses down, you truly thought about it. Maybe. . . maybe he was telling the truth.

All your life, you had been so quick to expect the worst of people. You had never let yourself believe anyone could have good intentions. Why would you? After everything you’d been through, after how many people had hurt you to the point of severe trauma, it only made sense that your first instinct would be to not trust that anyone had your best interest at heart. But, staring at the man in front of you, his eyes begging you to believe him, his chest falling and rising with deep, slow breaths. . . all of his emotions, on blatant display. . . you thought of him and the person he’d been for you recently. How you had so openly shared things with him. . . Maybe he felt the same with you? Even if it sounded slightly ridiculous. . . It would be harsh to judge him for that. 

“I’m sorry,” you said, bowing your head. 

You felt two tender, calloused fingers lift your chin. Your body lit up at his touch. Eyes grew tears. . .

You just kept talking, feeling comfortably vulnerable under his stare.

“I thought she was here tonight.”

“Who?” He rubbed his thumb smoothly over your chin, holding your face so gently.

“Maya.”

He let go of you, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Fuck. I knew you would jump to conclusions with Sam saying what he did the other night.”

“I didn’t have to jump to any conclusions. I saw it with my own eyes. Heard Josh–,” you stopped yourself. Even in this dazed state, you knew that telling him you’d heard his conversation with Josh wasn’t a good idea. 

“Heard Josh. . . what?” He raised a brow.

“Nothing,” you shook your head.

He rolled his eyes. “Okay. Whatever you heard any of them say– can you believe me?” He asked, begging you with his profoundly engaging irises. “Please?”

You knew what you felt though. What you’d heard him say in response to Josh– what you’d seen with your eyes. You’d dug yourself a massive hole of winding thoughts. . . you weren’t sure who or what to believe. So, you responded simply. “I don’t know, Jake.”

He put a hand over his eyes, then removed it to question you. “Why?”

“I’m not getting into that right now,” you asserted, looking away and covering your face as he had his. When you looked back at him, and into his eyes, you let your guard down slightly. “You know why. It’s my specialty.”

“Okay . . .,” he accepted, his tone gentle and understanding. “We’ll just let that sit for now. Back to your initial assumption tonight, though. . . have I ever brought her here?”

“I’m assuming.”

“Stop assuming.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” you bit back.

“I’m only telling you that so you can stop hurting yourself. You spiral. I know this about you,” he reasoned carefully.

“That’s fucking rude.”

“Whatever. It’s true and you basically just said it yourself. I do it, too. So, fair’s fair,” he retorted, his tone indicating annoyance. “But to answer my question to you, for you– No. The answer is no. I’ve never brought her here.”

“What about that night with the sweet, unforgettable earplug remark?”

“Really? Unforgettable? Why do you insist–?” He growled low under his breath, shaking his head a little. “Whatever. Never mind. That was a different woman. I hadn’t even met Maya yet. Sam was exaggerating– per usual. I haven’t been seeing her since I moved here. I saw her briefly. . . from mid-June to, like, mid-July.”

“You continued seeing her after Baby’s?”

“I didn’t think you wanted me,” he clarified. “And I was an idiot. She was a woman who wanted to have sex with me, and I like sex. I was just being stupid.”

“That’s probably all I am to you, though,” you said, making him aware of your surmise. His face said he wanted to insert something, but you kept talking. “I’m just someone you can have sex with– because you like sex. Which, I do, too. But I just. . .,” you swept two feather light hands through your hair. “I don’t know why I want it to be more. But I do and . . . that’s going against everything I said. . .and I. . .” You closed your lids and groaned, irritated with your heart.

The fingers were under your chin again, your eyes opening to look at him at the contact. “Because it feels so natural being more. I get it. It’s not bad.”

“Yes it is,” you said, tearing your face away from his hand. “Because you don’t want that with me. I saw how she interacted with you after her lesson the other day. At the festival. I mean, you invited her to the festival. She was backstage with you. . . acting like a girlfriend or some shit the whole damn time. And then when she ran for you when you were upset. . .acting like she had done it a thousand times.”

“Well, she hasn’t. . .” he affirmed, his voice hard and leaving no room for disagreement. “And, yes, she is sweet and I liked having sex with her because she’s a good person who helped me a lot during a hard time with some much needed pep talks. . . but everything at the festival was her taking too much upon herself. Also, she invited herself to that. I didn’t invite her. And when she got there, Sam saw her and had her come backstage. I don’t know why he’s so insistent on hooking us up again.”

Oh.

He continued. “Y/n. . . I don’t know how else to say it. Anyway I say it, I feel like you won’t believe me. But– god, she’s just not you. I would never be able to feel the things for her that I do for you. It was– I emphasize, was– just sex with her; but with you? It's been. . .it’s more. You are more. I can’t explain it. . .my heart aches for you in ways it never did with her—with anyone.”

His velvet voice sent a flutter to your heart. You heard the genuine truth behind it, and the way his eyes never once left yours. His eyes, that said so much more than his words ever could. 

“I don’t want her. I want you. At my shows. In my bed every night and every morning, waking me with your mouth or your sweet pussy. . .I just—goddammit. Fuck. I fucking love you, y/n. I love you. No one else.”

Your next words couldn’t have been stopped if you tried. 

“I love you too,” fell smoothly from your lips, like the purest golden honey.

He stopped—his reddened, heavy eyes zeroing in on yours. He gave a tiny shake of his head.

“Y–you do?”

You couldn’t believe your own words. Really. Well. . .could you? They’d slipped from your lips so easily, with no time to overthink them, like you always seemed to do. Because you didn’t have to think about it– you couldn’t overthink that—because it was true. It came out so naturally, so authentically, just as it was. You hadn’t even realized you felt it yet; you hadn’t given yourself the chance to fully feel it—but there was no doubt. You did. You couldn’t hide it from yourself any longer. 

His blown out irises penetrated yours—the eyes that confirmed everything he’d just told you to be completely true.

“Jesus, Jake. Of course I fucking do.”

Who moved first, you’d never know.

But your lips met his with unbridled need. You moaned at the feeling of his soft lips enveloping yours. . . the way he sucked your mouth gently into his own– tasting you with the tip of his tongue as he did so. When you moaned again, he pushed you back with his hips, a hand gripping one of yours. You grabbed his ass tightly as if to hang on, never wanting to let go of him. The only place to go was your room, your door ajar just enough that it opened easily on its own. He reached a hand behind him to close it gently– so as not to wake anyone. 

Your lamp, still left on, just as it had been earlier in the evening, shed the perfect amount of golden light. You grabbed his cheeks, pulling him away from you momentarily to appreciate his features. Finally out of the dark you could look at him. And, God, you loved his face. Everything about it, having been so intricately and delicately created. . .making the most beautiful man you’d ever laid eyes on. 

A quiet smirk graced his perfect lips, his eyes tightly locked with yours. “What’s the matter?” he asked, his hushed, now-sultry voice making your need for him that much more heightened. 

You thought a moment before you answered. With all of your feelings for him finally becoming realized in your own mind, there was just so much you felt you needed to say. So much you needed him to know. As you stared in his sparkling eyes, pupils pure black from the weed and his need for you, the only word your mind could conjure up was love. Over and over again. Not just the word, but the feeling; the new desire for him that went far beyond the purely physical one that you’d tried so hard to convince yourself of. 

But it wasn’t new; it had been clear all along. You’d just shoved it down to the deepest trenches of your mind, only to be discovered by the most skilled explorer. There was so much you wanted to say, but you just couldn’t conjure the proper words. For once, you’d been left nearly speechless by your intense infatuation for him that you had finally allowed yourself space to fully realize. 

You decided your body could do all the talking. It could say more than your voice ever could.

“Nothing,” you whispered against his lips as you pulled him in for the deepest kiss you’re certain the two of you had ever shared with one another.

He led you backwards to your bed, your lips staying connected the entire time. With hardly any effort, he swiftly scooped you up and placed you on the bed, his lips only leaving yours to attach to your neck to suck on the tight flesh. His fingers toyed with the strap of your top, teasing it slowly down your shoulder. His mouth followed it with wet, barely there kisses on your skin with each movement down your arm. He then moved to the other arm, doing the exact same thing as his mouth began setting your whole body alight. 

He was taking his time. He wanted to enjoy every part of your body, savoring you in ways he always had but this time, it was different. His need was far beyond just wanting to fuck you; he wanted to love you. 

He dragged his lips across your collarbone, moving to the middle of your chest, then taking the fabric still covering you between his teeth as he pulled a little. 

“Take this off,” he whispered, “need to taste these pretty tits.” 

You groaned, wasting no time removing the barrier. You tossed it across the room with such eagerness you should’ve been embarrassed. But you weren’t. Couldn’t be. Not when he was displaying the same eagerness to please you, to feel your body against his own.

He flattened his tongue over a hard bud, slowly dragging it up until the tip flicked your nipple before he closed his lips around it and sucked. He swirled his tongue around, lifting off of it with a string of saliva that still connected him to you as he blew cold air on it. He tweaked it with his fingers, rolling it between his index and thumb as he moved to the other breast to give it the same attention. 

“Jake— fuck. It feels so good.” You were breathing so heavily that your breathless words just barely broke through your parted lips. 

But he heard you. And he smiled in retort against your chest as he continued lapping and sucking at you, using his teeth to graze your nearly too sensitive nipple. You were already nearing your break, feeling the pulsing between your legs keeping up with the erratic beating of your heart. 

He grabbed both your breasts, pushing them together and licking one long and steady stripe up the middle where his strong hands connected them. 

“Goddamn,” He spoke against your skin; you felt every word from his lips across your supple flesh. “I will never get enough of these, baby. So fucking perfect.” 

As good as he was making you feel, you were becoming increasingly more desperate. You needed him in your pussy. His mouth, his fingers, his cock. Fucking anything. You were throbbing for him. You weaved your trembling hands through his tangled hair, trying to guide him the rest of the way down your body. 

“Jake, please. I need you.” Your labored breathing made it incredibly hard to be able to form a single coherent word. 

He giggled as he made his descent down your heaving belly, stopping to plant an open mouthed kiss over your belly button as your body shuddered almost uncontrollably. 

“Easy, baby,” he said between leaving kitten licks just above the waistband of your leggings. “You know I’ll give you what you want. Don’t I always? Just let me take my time with you– need to worship this glorious fucking body.” 

Your heart swelled at his words. He thought your body was deserving of being worshiped. Who were you to rush him? And he was right. He was always the most generous lover, never stopping until you were fully satisfied with everything you needed. He pulled your leggings down just a little, enough to expose your hip bones and the top of your purple lace thong. He sucked a dark mark on the tight skin of your hip, sending a flood to your already soaked core as you gasped so loud you reached your hand up to cover your gaping mouth. 

“Let them hear,” he groaned as he smiled. “They’re in our fucking place, aren’t they? If they don’t like it, they can leave.” 

Our place. 

Those words that had once felt so poisoned, that would have made you cringe at the mere sound of them— they suddenly felt so right as they comfortably glided off his tongue that was caressing you wonderfully.

Though, you weren’t quite ready for them to know about this. . . Despite your ever-present fear of Josh finding out, there was just something about it only being between you and Jake. Especially now, the way it felt so sacred and special. Just the two of you. No one else. No one. 

Before you could tell him you absolutely did not want them to hear, he tested you a bit further by pulling your leggings off in one swift motion and planting his lips directly on your vibrating clit, still tucked away beneath the purple lace. With how he had perfectly worked you up, you were already so sensitive. You jolted at the contact, nearly screaming “fuck!” into your open palm as the sensation had been heightened in brand new ways. 

“Normally I’d say purple is the most offensive hue,” he ran his middle finger up and down the wet lace, applying a feather light pressure— just enough to have you squirming under his touch. “But you make it look so goddamn magnificent. So fucking beautiful.”

“Fuck Jake. . .” You started bucking your hips up, chasing anything he would give you. 

“I know baby, I know,” he hushed. “I just love seeing you like this. So ready for me, your panties clinging to you. I’m gonna lock that sight away.” 

He hooked his thumbs around the thin string of your thong and pulled it slowly down your hips. The pads of his fingers danced over the skin of your thighs while he rid you of the final hindrance keeping him from where you desired him the most. He lifted your legs over his shoulders as his tongue flicked just once at your swollen clit. You pulled tightly at his hair and he groaned at the feeling, sending a vibration against you as you tried with all of your best efforts to stay quiet.

He took a moment to admire the sight of you, how your trembling body practically begged him to touch you without the need for a single word. As if sensing it, he started leaving the most tender kisses on the inside of your thighs, inching himself closer and closer but never picking up his pace.

He was teasing you to the point of near madness. You were certain the sheets below you were soaked with your arousal. You could hardly stand it any longer. Your need for him had officially surpassed any you had ever felt for him before. 

“J-Jake, please. . .” 

He sucked a few more times on the tender flesh of your thigh before finally wrapping his wet lips around your neglected clit. As he did it, he looked up at your pleasure contorted face with eyes that smiled. You became nearly breathless at the sight of him combined with the feeling of his warm tongue caressing you, devouring you like a starved man enjoying his first meal. 

He pulled you as close to his face as he could with an iron grip on your hips. His eyebrows became creased as he hummed into your sopping and throbbing pussy. The carnal, lewd sounds of him sloppily lapping at you only added to the intensity you felt in the pit of your stomach. . .

. . .until he stopped— leaving you whimpering and squirming for more. 

“Look at me.” His soft, gravelly voice pulled you from your agony of missing his mouth on you, and you did as he said.

Your body shook as you lifted your head to meet his dark, sinful eyes that burned holes straight through yours. 

“You look so fucking beautiful,” he muttered. “And you taste so sweet, baby.” 

He smiled as he leaned down to place a gentle kiss just above your clit, keeping his eyes locked with yours. He lifted off of you and climbed up your quivering body, dragging his lips over any surface area of you he could reach until his nose brushed against yours.

“Jaaake. . .” You nudged your lips against his, feeling his warm breath melt into your skin. “. . .fuck me. Now.” 

He wanted to hear you say it; he needed to hear you say it. 

He lifted his hips up just enough for your wandering hand to reach down between your bodies. You cupped him tightly in your palm, feeling just how desperate he was to get out of the strenuous restriction of his black jeans. 

He hissed as your hand moved up and down his clothed length, teasing him just as he had with you. You reached up and cradled his face with your free hand, drawing patterns into his cheekbone with the pad of your thumb. 

You loved the hitch in his breath, his pleading eyes that begged you to take his jeans off. The sweat that had formed around his hairline. The torment in his eyes that all on their own could have sent you spiraling into the most beautiful release. God, he was so fucking pretty. 

You squeezed your hand around him, feeling him throb as his eyes rolled in the back of his head. He grit his teeth and bite his lower lip so hard you were surprised he didn’t draw blood. 

“Jesus— fuck,” he groaned, the rasp in his voice sending a another wave to core.

You wanted to tease him further, but your own body couldn’t take it any longer. 

You dug into the buckle of his belt and ripped it off of him in one fluid motion, you both gasping at the ‘snap’ sound it made when you pulled it out of the loops of his pants. With one hand, you released the metal button and pulled the zipper of his fly down in record time. Your fingers instantly intertwined with his boxers, reaching inside for his pulsing cock.

“A bit eager, are we?” he patronized, but you knew damn well he needed it as badly as you did. 

“Shut the fuck up, Jacob.”

He huffed a laugh as he aided you in pulling his jeans and boxers down to sit in the middle of his thighs, finally freeing him all the way. 

You wanted to taste him, but the ache in your pussy was far too great to go any longer without him filling you. You wrapped your legs tightly around his hips to angle yourself perfectly with him as he lined himself up with you. Both of his hands settled on either side of your face as he pulled you into a fervid kiss while the tip of his cock nudged your quivering entrance.

He kissed down your jawbone, your neck, pulling your earlobe gently between his teeth. 

“I fucking love you. . .” he purred against your ear, plunging his cock slowly inside of you as he said it. “. . . and god, do I love fucking you.”

You groaned in utter relief when he thrust himself completely inside of you, as deep as he could go. He was still for a moment, feeling your walls clench around the pulsing of his cock. 

“Fuck, Jake. . .” You pulled at the sweat drenched hairs sitting on the nape of his neck while the nails of your other dug into the soft flesh of his hip. 

“I know, baby. . . I feel you. So wet and warm, pulling me in. I fit so well, don’t I?”

You couldn’t even respond to tell him how fucking good he felt buried inside of you. Words had escaped you entirely.

You weren’t sure if it was the weed or if it was because you were finally letting yourself feel everything you’d shoved down for far too long, but the way he felt sitting inside of you was ineffable; he was right. He fit so goddamn well. He had to have been made for you. Fuck. You’d let him stay inside of you for the rest of your life if you could. 

He started pumping in and out of you at a slow pace— you could feel every vein of his thick shaft against your walls as he glided so effortlessly through you. Pulling all the way out to the tip, then back in again, perfectly brushing that wonderful spot within you each time as you felt every inch of him.

He gradually quickened his thrusts, his breaths becoming more and more deep with every calculated movement of his hips. Both of your hands reached behind him to grasp ahold of his back, feeling the muscles beneath your fingertips flex while he fucked himself into you with more intensity. 

“Fuck, baby,” you moaned, clawing at his skin, damp with perspiration from his efforts and the wonderful effects of the weed. You were desiring to feel him as close to you as you possibly could. You were about to finish–you could feel it. Teetering on the edge of sweet relief. . . your walls were fluttering, your clit was pulsing. . . 

The wound-up ball of tension in your tummy was about to let loose. 

His thrusts were getting desperate, his pants and sighs were mixing with yours. And you couldn’t help but look between you, where your bodies met. . . it made your heart beat even more rapidly in your chest, seeing you connected in such a way. It looked so right. You felt full. You felt whole. In your haze, your thoughts couldn’t help but wander as you thought of the final step to feeling close to him. 

Fuck.

As soon as the thought entered your brain, you had to throw your head back in ecstasy. It was almost too much to imagine. 

Your mind was so fucking cloudy– nothing sounded better in that moment than to feel him fully. His release inside of you. . .it would join your bodies completely. And God, you wanted that.

Needed it. And you knew this time might very well be the last. And you had to feel him in that way. Just once. You’d get a Plan-fucking-B in the morning. It would be so incredibly worth it to feel him in that way. 

Just this once. This one last time. It would be the perfect ending to this beautiful chapter of my life, you thought, longing for things to be different. 

“Shit– y/n,” Jake’s voice was needy as he rasped. “You feel so damn good. Fuck. So tight. So wet– smooth as fuckin’ velvet–,” he snapped his hips, the tip of his dick met your tender spot. It was even more tender under the influence– everything was heightened. “Fuck!”

You shook with anticipation, your legs already twitching. And you hadn’t even cum yet. 

“I know, Jakey,” you sighed. You reached a hand down his back, grasping at his firm ass. You held tightly to the plush muscle. It flexed with each push of his hips against you. “Y’feel so good.”

One hand and a forearm was balancing him above you. The hand of the forearm had been tenderly holding your head for the entirety of him fucking you into your mattress. But the other hand that he’d been using for balance moved swiftly to place two fingers below your chin. As he guided your face to look at him, you sighed with relief at the sight of his beautiful eyes– speaking every emotion he wanted to say. 

You felt it with him. Every fucking bit of it. 

His brows were concentrated, pinched with thought and overflowing emotions. 

“I know, sweetie. I feel it, too,” you gasped on the last words. Tears were choking your throat. You didn’t want this to end. But, even now, you knew it had to. Fuck– you wished like hell that you could keep him. But you couldn’t. 

Josh’s words swirled through your mind.

“Now is not the time to be getting involved with anyone.” 

“You know better, Jake. And you know that now is the time to focus on yourself rather than a woman– focusing on anything besides this monumental time in your life could hurt you.”

You knew Josh was correct. You couldn’t be the thing to distract him to the point of him abandoning this dream. 

 “Can you just fucking look out for yourself��just a little bit?” He’d pleaded, his voice breaking a bit. 

Just like your heart now. 

“I just don’t want to see you get hurt again. . . I would just really appreciate it if you cared about yourself the way you deserve.”

You feared he couldn’t do it for himself. Look out for his best interest. If he hadn’t been able to do it before with Amelia, what would stop him from giving himself the short end of the stick for you, too?

And you had to take into consideration how quickly you’d been destroyed by running to any and every conclusion about Maya. . . You could not handle something like this. Emotionally, it was too much for you at this point in your life. Pushing all of the thoughts away, you decided to just let yourself have this time with him. He was everything you wanted, and at this moment you were going to let yourself have him.

Bringing yourself back to the present, you gazed into his irises. But before you could lose yourself further, he shook his head, looking down between the two of you. 

Your brow furrowed in response, and you reached the hand that was still holding his back, up to cup his cheek, lifting his head in the process. When he looked at you again, his eyes were shining. 

Dammit, Jake, you thought, wistful. 

You felt tears prick your own ducts. Your thumb swept across the soft skin and the faint beauty mark that adorned his cheek. Fuck, he was beautiful. You bit your lip, then hushed your next words, repeating your earlier statement. “I know.”

He went to look down again, but your hold was firm on his face. “Look at me, Jake,” you begged. “Watch me.”

He pressed his face into your hand, his eyes shutting for a moment. A singular tear made its way to your chest. He cleared his throat, opening his eyes. He kept them on you, never wavering and following your instructions. His hips continued with their languid movements, his cock never exiting you. But, suddenly, as you felt your walls constrict him again, his slow movements became quicker, desperate. You wanted to throw your head back, completely overtaken with lust. But you kept your eyes trained on his. 

You had to see him finish. . . see his face. You’d never let yourself watch him, subconsciously fearing the intimacy of witnessing it. But you had to see it now. . .just once.

“Stay with me, Jake,” you pleaded, your voice hitching with each hard pump of his dick. He briefly closed his eyes again, and fearful of missing him, you coached him back to you. “Look into my eyes.”

You gasped the last part, the sensation of him throbbing and twitching inside of you, the fullness of his dick filling you completely. 

More.

He whimpered, his Amber-brown eyes, heart wrenching and warm as they stayed locked with yours. “I can’t– I’m gonna– I’m–,” he choked out. His movements slowed, and he went to pull out. But you stopped him, your hand holding tight to his soft, round ass. He looked back at you, quirking an inquisitive, urgent brow. You felt your legs quiver, your heat clenched around him as your clit twitched with need. 

So close. Fuck. 

His eyes rolled, his lids shutting with the feeling. He bit his pink lip. His lips, still swollen from your kisses and shiny from your release. The butterflies in your stomach started fluttering ferociously, the familiar feeling overtaking you as your body trembled– your nerves humming. 

You were about to finish. And you had to do it with him. 

Completely. 

“Y/n,” he gasped, warning you. “I’m going to fucking cum.”

You felt his cock pulse inside of you, confirming his words. 

“I know,” you said, for the third time. “But I need to feel you. I want you to finish inside of me.”

His eyes bugged. “Y/n– fuck. No. No. You are under the influence. You don’t want–.”

You felt your chest flare with irritation at his words. “Jake, I swear to fuck,” you whined, your eyes shutting as one particular nudge of his cock against your folds pushed you nearly over the edge. “Please, Jake. Please, baby. I promise you won’t be taking advantage or some shit. I need it. Please. Let me have it. Just this one time.”

Let our last time be special, you thought. You tried to let your eyes echo your thoughts, willing him to understand. 

He seemed to, because his next words were less apprehensive– an air of eagerness and an air of excitement painting his tone with his next words. “Are you sure?”

“More than sure,” you reassured, smoothing your thumb across his sharp cheekbone. 

And with one last buck from his hips, your clit twitched and your legs turned to Jell-o. All composure was lost–shuddering and heart chanting his name. Then, with a final groaned growl, his eyelids drooped, and his irises hazily watched you. His mouth relaxed to an ‘o’ shape, just the same as it did when he played his beloved instrument. You felt the glorious feeling of his release, as he spilled warm and plentiful inside of you. 

“Jaaaake,” you moved your hips up against him, wanting to feel and catch every last bit of him. “Yes, baby– yes.”

Dammit– until this moment, you hadn’t realized just how badly you needed this. 

You could punch yourself with the anger you felt at ending things with him. But it was for this exact reason. The emotions you were feeling (that you knew he was also feeling), as he slumped against you, thick shaft slowly softening inside of you. . .his head balanced on your shoulder as your fingers lazily played with his gorgeous, growing locks. . . 

It wasn’t uncomplicated. It was more than it was ever meant to become. It wasn’t what you had agreed to in the slightest. This was turning into a relationship. And you were not about to squander his career with any sort of distraction. You refused to get in the way of his career. 

So, when he finally pulled out of you –and you felt the remnants of his seed slipping from between the folds of your fulfilled cunt– you reminded yourself.

Plan B. 

And as you dozed off, after he’d cleaned you so delicately, with him spooning you from behind, his firm chest meeting your relaxed back. . . you swore you wouldn’t forget. 

Plan B in the morning.

-🌼🌼🌼-

a/n: hope to see you back for part 2 TOMORROW!! 🖤

ty for being the best readers in the world and pleaseee never hesitate to send in your wonderful thoughts!

& as usual, it wouldn’t let me tag some of y’all. :( so please check to see that you’re down there because if you’ve asked to be on the taglist, i tried to tag you. buuuut tumblr wouldn’t let me do it for everyone 🙃 ugh. and if i somehow forgot to tag someone, please also let me know that! (i'm a NOOB and i have terrible memory)

Taglist: @joshym, @gretavanfleetposts, @alyson814, @fretaganvleet, @lallisonl, @writingcold, @gvfpal, @twinszka, @jessicafg03, @reesetrippingthelight, @sacredjake, @laurenlovesgretavanfleet, @gretavangroove, @222headedcalf, @dreamssingold, @carbondancingthroughtime, @raviolilegs, @way-to-go-lad, @jakekiszkasmommy, @katgvf, @objectsinspvce, @jaketlover, @vanfleeter, @thetroublegetssloud71, @seditabets, @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface, @jaketlove, @ohgodthefeeling-gvf, @starcatcher-jake, @anythingforjtk, @lucimoo, @indigostreakmorgan, @gretavanbear, @katelynn-gvf, @alwaysonthemend, @aintthatapity, @bowievanfleet, @fwzco, @takenbythemadness, @cherry-icecreamsmile, @laneygvf, @hi-hi-hello11, @sinarainbows, @jakesbarbarian, @mybussyinchrist, @becinabubblegvf, @heckingfrick, @danigvf, @pinkandsleepy1934, @derrangeddumpsterfire, @klarxtr, @josh-iamyour-mama, @abby-gvf, @cassyface, @gretavansabotage, @torniturntomyarrow, @joshsbonnet, @llrosee, @starshine-gvf, @itsafullmoon, @gvfmarge, @creadliz98, @mackalah, @lek-gvf

[persephonememes]

* (  THE HAUNTING OF BLY MANOR /  SENTENCE PROMPTS.

These may have been edited for clarity or length or to better apply for roleplaying.

❛ i was just really, really sad. ❜

❛ dead doesn’t mean gone. ❜

❛ i thought i was going to die too. ❜

❛ it only felt like dying because, actually, i was still alive. ❜

❛ to truly love another person is to accept that the work of loving them is worth the pain of losing them. ❜

❛ we can’t count on the past. ❜

❛ we think we have it trapped in our memories, but memories fade. ❜

❛ you’ll find it much quieter out here. ❜

❛ any of us could die at any moment. ❜

❛ she/he was my anchor. ❜

❛ i’m a lot braver than people think. ❜

❛ nothing holds, and all things change, given time. ❜

❛ change does not often announce itself. ❜

❛ all things fade. ❜

❛ time takes all things. ❜

❛ it is the way of the world. ❜

❛ the past recedes, memories fade, and so, true, does the spirit. ❜

❛ everything yields to time, even the soul. ❜

❛ there’s a difference between feeling good and feeling alive. ❜

❛ funerals are for the living. it’s up to the living to decide what they can and cannot bear. ❜

❛ i don’t know why brilliant young women are always punished. ❜

❛ you don’t have to lose yourself to find happiness, you know. ❜

❛ i was having the strangest dream. ❜

❛ what have you got when your back’s against the wall when there’s nothing left for you but faith? ❜

❛ sometimes, right can seem wrong, and wrong can seem right. ❜

❛ do you know what life is really all about? ❜

❛ save them all if you can, but put your own oxygen mask on first. ❜

❛ death is something to mourn, not fear. ❜

❛ i wasn't going to ask you if you're alright because i don't like being lied to. so, what's wrong? ❜

❛ everyone is exhaustive. even the best ones. ❜

❛ we are meant to die. it's natural. ❜

❛ every living thing grows out of every dying thing. ❜

❛ that's where all it's beauty lies, you know, in the mortality of the thing. ❜

❛ one day at a time is what we've got. ❜

❛ one day at a time is what we've got. it's what everybody's got, if you get down to it. ❜

❛ if you can't feel anything, then i'll feel everything for the both of us. ❜

❛ but no one is going anywhere, okay? ❜

❛ you shouldn't be thinking of losing each-other at all. ❜

❛ don't let that loom over your happiness right now. ❜

❛ it is rare what you've got. ❜

❛ what is the catch? ❜

❛ i’m not running, from anything and it hurts me when you say that. ❜

❛ perfectly splendid. ❜

❛ you have to promise me that you’ll stay in your room. ❜

❛ none of us are blameless. ❜

❛ on a scale of zero to american, how would you rate her? ❜

❛ it’s such a draining thing, dealing with children. ❜

❛ i have an inquiring mind. ❜

❛ we both know you don’t make mistakes. ❜

❛ let me guess, you are to be our very own mary poppins? ❜

❛ i hope she haunts that fucker forever. ❜

❛ why should anyone hate a lake? ❜

❛ let me show you just how beautiful you are. ❜

❛ it’s just you and me then. ❜

❛ look at you all flush. you’re pretty when you blush. ❜

❛ being with him might be scary at times but, it’s also exciting and fun. ❜

❛ and for the first time in my life, that little voice in my head saying i’m not good enough has disappeared. ❜

❛ i’ve never felt so alive. ❜

❛ i swear, you’re such a bore, and you don’t know when the leave well enough alone. ❜

❛ sometimes people just need to be alone. ❜

❛ i couldn’t sleep. i feel like i can never sleep again, frankly. ❜

❛ haven’t we done this already? ❜

❛ i have a surprise for you. ❜

❛ i have a surprise for you. ❜

❛ don’t leave your room at night. ❜

❛ the past is always present. ❜

❛ the stories we tell each other have a way of changing. ❜

❛ love is a haunting melody that i have never mastered and i fear i never will. ❜

❛ no good ever comes from dwelling on the worst. ❜

❛ you can’t choose who you love. ❜

❛ ghosts do not have to be scary. they can be comforting. ❜

❛ the heart is a fragile thing, and it can break in many different ways. ❜

❛ people often fear what they cannot understand. ❜

❛ we are all haunted in some way, by the things we have lost or the things we have done. ❜

❛ death is not the end, it’s just a door we all have to go through. ❜

❛ the past cannot be changed, but it can still hurt us. ❜

❛ the things we bury have a way of finding their way back to the surface. ❜

❛ some people are born to be alone, and others are born to be together. ❜

❛ ghosts are memories, and memories are what make us who we are. ❜

❛ the dead don’t really leave us. they live on in the memories we have of them. ❜

❛ the more we try to run from something, the more it chases us. ❜

❛ we all have a shadow self, the part of us that we don’t like to admit exists. ❜

❛ the world is full of secrets, and some are best left buried. ❜

❛ the heart wants what it wants, and sometimes that can be a terrifying thing. ❜

❛ every relationship is a dance, and both people need to be willing to take a step forward. ❜

❛ life can be cruel, but it can also be beautiful. ❜

❛ we are all just playing a part, but some roles are harder to shake off than others. ❜

❛ the past is written, but the future is still unwritten. ❜

❛ the greatest tragedy in life is not death, but the things we leave unsaid. ❜

❛ i do not like this game. ❜

❛ i'm actually pretty in love with you. ❜

❛ no one should ever need that much help. ❜

❛ you let me handle this part. ❜

❛ the wrong kind of love can fuck you up, follow you and make you do some really stupid shit. ❜

[sibsteria]

Damage Control [Part Two to Devotion]

Warnings: Violence, smut references, use of word Spen (Sparrow-Ben), my undying love for Lila

Summary: How will the remaining population of Hotel Obsidian react to the news?

Reader is Klaus’ sister

Read Devotion here

I love feedback! So feel free to give some :) I’m also thinking about adding a part three, the wedding. But if this works better as a two parter it’s forgotten.

It was a race against time, how fast even is this elevator? Is everyone still in the lobby? Maybe we’ll get lucky.

Ben stands, back to the wall and arms crossed.

“He seemed terrified.” He shrugs.

“Seemed? Put yourself in his position.” I shake my head with a short laugh.

“I’d much prefer the one I was in, thanks.”

“Deviant.”

“You love me.” He smirks, a softness in his eyes.

“It’s my fatal flaw.”

“Shush.” The elevator dings after what felt like forever.

I run out the room, in hopes that his first thought would be to seek out the lobby loiterers.

“Ben Asshole Hargreeves! Where are you?!” I shout, passing columns and empty seats.

I hear a muffled kerfuffle a couple of turns away, I beeline for the noise in haste, other Ben on my heels.

“Stay here.” I whisper to him, nodding to a large pillar, he salutes me.

“What are you telling us?” Viktor’s calm yet confused voice is the first clear dialect I hear.

“I’m telling you that I am traumatised! You idiots!” He’s seething, spit exiting his mouth.

“You better have not opened your full of shit mouth.” I grumble, storming over to the copy.

“I don’t know what you mean? Other than the fact I saw my doppelgänger with his dick inside of you!” He screams in my face, suddenly I’m surrounded by gasps and low murmurs.

“What?!” Diego’s voice echos, bouncing off each wall, Lila grabs his hand.

“Oh, come on! You really believe him? He’s a dickwad!” I preface with my hands wild in motion, fingers crossed for my acting skills.

“Actually, yeah, why should we believe you? I mean, Klaus hasn’t even seen him since we got here and we don’t even know if Y/n can see him too?”

“Wait, that’s his jacke-” Damn it, Klaus.

My plan almost worked, until a clatter sounds from the pillow to my left. I forgot about the leather currently draping over my shoulders was something Klaus would recognise.

“Shit!” I heard Ben’s whisper-yell.

“Ben?”

“Ben!”

“Is that you, Benerino?”

He comes out with his hands help up.

There isn’t much time for anyone to react before the Sparrow copy is protruding his tentacles, grabbing my boyfriend by the neck.

He does the same, now they’re both choking themselves to death.

“Both of you, stop!” I throw my hands up, letting my power turn my Ben into mist. I run placing myself in front of him, before letting him return to his state.

“Thanks, babe.”

“Anytime.” I breath out.

“Wait, babe?” Allison scoffs.

“Is there…something I don’t know?“ Klaus narrows his eyes at me in a sarcastic manner.

“How long has this been going on?” Diego snaps.

Five is still silent, nursing a glass of what I can only assume is not good for his little body.

“Since he helped me after I cut my finger on that broken plate. The one with the flowers one, I wouldn’t stop crying, I stole ice cream for a week afterwards to make myself feel better.” I mumble.

“That was when we were fourteen!” Diego is wide eyed.

“So…it’s been going on for this long?” Luther finally speaks up.

“I mean, can you blame me? Ben is everything I’ve ever known. He was my anchor of sorts.” I shrugged, thinking back to the times he had helped me out of my nightmares and fits. I look towards the copy, an unreadable expression on his face.

“I thought I was your anchor!” Klaus whines.

“You have to be, we were pushed out from the same womb!” I reason, Ben’s hand finds a place on my shoulder.

“Is this why you haven’t ever been out on a date? You’ve never had a boyfriend? Never even had a crush-” I cut Allison off.

“I’ve done all of those, just…with Ben.” A smile paints my face, I lean into his chest. I feel him press a kiss to the top of my head.

“I wonder what ghost sex is like.” Lila chimes in, receiving a smack to the arm from her…boyfriend? I giggle, I will absolutely have to describe it to her later.

“So…you, dear sister, have been screwing my best friend behind my back fooooor…fifteen years give or take?” Klaus stands from his place on a chair, sauntering over to me. My heart plummets.

“I-I’m sorry, Klaus, I-”

“I mean…how dare you!” Now I realise, he’s not mad at all, he’s using his fake-mad tone. The one I’ve had to deal with all my life.

I roll my eyes, flipping him off.

“I mean I thought you were a virgin! A complete opposite to me, oh, but now I see it all. You, saucy minx, you!” He gives me a little hand flick motion.

Luther and Sloane are too busy staring into each other eyes.

“We all did.” Allison shrugs.

“I mean, I gotta know all the details now. Oooh! Did he use his tenties? Golly darn, ghost sex? Why didn’t I think of that?” He huffs out.

“Never say tenties again.” Ben finally speaks from behind me.

“Yeah, please.” The quiet Sparrow adds, breaking his silence.

“So whadd’you think of all this fake Ben?” Klaus wiggles his shoulders at him.

“I’m not- I’m not fake Ben. I’m still me. This is…weird. Kind of, violating actually.” He knocks back a glass of whatever he had poured from behind the bar.

“Oh, you bet it’s violating! Think of all the blowjizzles he got and you didn’t-”

“Why would I want them in the first place?” He squints his eyes, scoffing at my brother.

“I mean, not in an incesty way, but we are two hot twins!” Klaus tries to reason, throwing out his arms either side of him.

“Ugh.” My secondhand embarrassment hits me, I rub my forehead.

“You’re very cocky, you know that?” The Sparrow spits out.

“Well, right back at you, sweetheart!” Klaus drums his fingers against the bar.

“This is insane.” Allison states, shaking her head as she throws up her hands, walking towards the elevator.

“Don’t go, Alliso-” Viktor gets up, trailing after her.

“I don’t wanna hear another word from you.”

They both disappear around the corner.

“This family is doomed.” Five quips, taking another sip.

“Why have you been so quiet? Mr Mysterious?” Luther raises an eyebrow at my older-younger sibling.

“I though we all knew this? It’s deathly obvious. Y/n, darling, no offence but you are in no way discrete.” He places a faux hand over his heart.

“None taken, bestie.” I feel Ben’s arms wrap around my middle.

“Don’t call me bestie.”

“But you’re my bestie! Oh, c’mon, Five!” I pout at him and he rolls his eyes in return, I know I’m his favourite.

“Can you take your hands off her? All this is making my head spin.” Spen pinches his nose.

“Why would I do that? Maybe you should lay off the liquor.” My Ben challenges him.

“It’s fucking weird!”

“What’s weird about a dead guy holding his girl in front of his douche-twin?” I hear the sarcasm roll off his tongue, he just can’t help himself.

“Are you hearing yourself right now?”

He unwraps just arms and walks toward the bar, I hear footsteps walk over to me, Lila.

They start laying insults at each other, morphing into Korean. I blink my eyes, a little stunned at the-

“Am i the only one that finds this incredibly sexy yet freakish?” There Lila goes again, finding her way to tap into my brain.

“Absolutely not.” I whisper, she rests her head on my shoulder. Since the apocalypse started, we had become quite close. Our teasing relationships with Five had kicked it into motion, we just bonded.

“I’m still weirded out by you two, it’s like your made for each other or somethin’.” Diego grumbles, looking at Lila and I.

“You should be over the moon that I get along with your sister!” She gasps.

“Whatever.” Poor, moody, Diego.

“Okay that’s enough, you both have too much personality to get along.” I stop the quarrelling and grab my boyfriends forearm, pulling him to come sit with me and Diego. Lila follows, seating herself on his lap.

“Oh, I love foursomes!” Klaus gushes, a joke directed at us couch couples.

Lila raises her eyebrows at me, I tilt my head back as a joke.

“Hey!” Diego warns, securing his arms around her.

“What?” She acts innocent.

“Stop trying to come on to my sister!” He whines.

“Bet she’d love it, wouldn’t you kitten?” She winks at me, a totally joke but if I didn’t have Ben I wouldn’t be opposed.

“Reading my mind, sweetie.” I give her some finger guns. Ben shakes his head next to me, used to my humour, he wraps an around around my shoulders.

“Seriously though, has he used his tenties?” Klaus giggles.

“Stop.” Ben.

“Klaus!” Me.

“Ew.” Spen.

“Nice image.” Luther.

“C’mon, man!” Diego.

“Tell me later.” Lila.

“Jeez.” Sloane.

“…” Five.

———————————————————————

Bonus!

“Hey, can I talk to you? For a second?” A soft spoken question.

I turn around to see the man who had grabbed my wrist, I look back at my dysfunctional family heading towards the elevator.

“If you must.” I sigh out, removing myself from his touch, pulling Ben’s jacket tighter around me as I crossed my arms.

“I’m sorry about- trying to choke out your boyfriend-” a slight pause in his speech, “but you need to understand how freaky this shit is.” He looks down at his shoes.

“I understand. How do you think I felt the first time I saw him? He was dead. I thought he was gone forever, then I thought I was losing my damn mind.” I think this is the most honest I had been with the man stood before me.

“I can’t imagine. So- how does this whole thing work?”

“What thing?” I furrow my eyebrows.

“You know, you being with him and me having to…deal with it.”

“You were never apart of the equation in the first place? You just happened to be alive here, so yeah, you are just going to have to deal with it. Ignore it-”

“I can’t ignore it!” He groans out.

“Oh, please, enlighten me.” I roll my eyes.

“Because you’re wasting you’re life on a ghost! He’s dead, he’s not coming back! You’re alive, you can-”

“I can what? Die in less than twenty hour hours and join him? You’re failing to see how this apocalypse thing works-”

“What if we can stop it?” He’s frantic with his hands.

“What if we can’t?”

“We just have to try-”

“I don’t need to waste my time, I want to be with my family before I go. I can always come back but…they can’t. This is their last chance to live. Ben and I will always be. And if you can’t turn a blind eye-”

“You could have been with me.” His voice is low, almost a whisper, but not quiet enough for me to miss it.

“And why would I want that?”

“I’m alive. I can be there for you-”

“Ben has been there for me! For my whole life! Dead or alive, he’s never failed me. You failed all of us, you sit in the corner and mope around. You’re a coward, but you want the top spot.”

He takes a moment to listen to my words.

“What’s so great about him? What’s so amazing? Why can’t I be Ben? Why am I fake fucking Ben?” His shell had started to crack since we started but now, the coating is sliding right off him.

“He’s honest, he’ll never be afraid to use his voice. He’s caring, almost too caring, not afraid to slap my brother around if he doesn’t get his shit together. He’s my brother’s nightmare yet his safety blanket, he wouldn’t admit it but he has a heart of gold. He can talk so ugly but he’s not a bully. You are, but you don’t have to be! You don’t need to be the asshole you fight to be.”

“I wasn’t even invited to the bachelor party.”

“That’s what you’re taking away from this? Stop feeling sorry for yourself, step up. You want to be number one? Then go ahead. But you can’t walk around here acting like a saving grace, we’re a team, we’re not an army.”

“I see why he loves you.” He leans against the bar.

“And do you see why I love him?” I search his eyes, desperate to find some heart.

“I think I’m getting it.”

“Then we’re not going to have any more problems, are we?” I feel a weight lift from my shoulders.

“I thought-I thought you were single, you know?” He laughs a little, it’s somber yet light hearted.

“Everyone did.”

“Turns out you just can’t get enough of me.” A joke flies off his tongue, we have a break through.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, charming. You need more fleshing out before you go all cocky on me.” I shake my head, returning his smile.

“I…know I can be better.”

“I know you can too, there’s always going to be apart of you that’s good. You were raised in the clasp an iron fist, wound tighter than we had experienced. Dear Reggie wanted to make sure you were nothing like us, but you can’t rule over the heart. I need you to believe in yourself and not the ability to control.”

“I still think it’s creepy.” His mind travels back to Ben and I.

“Maybe if things had gone differently, I would’ve seen you. For who you are, not who you want to be.” His face changes at this.

“I think I would have liked that.”

“Of course you would, you’re Ben Hargreeves. No matter the timeline.”

“I still think we have a chance to do this. To save everything.”

“Come back to me when you have a plan, as much as I love the perks of the void, I do like it here. I wouldn’t mind hearing you out.”

“I will, I’ll find you.”

“Stay honest, stay yourself.”

“I’ll try.”

“See you at the wedding.” I smirk.

“Oh, god.” He groans.

“Let loose, have some fun before we all perish.” I turn to leave, I still have things to find before poisoning my liver with my favourite people.

“I hate weddings.”

[iamyoursonly]

‘Shadows United’

EPILOGUE

hi guys hope you liked the story hehehehehe <33

Years had passed since Nanami and Y/N had triumphed over the shadows of their past and emerged victorious. The jujutsu sorcerer headquarters had seen many changes during that time, as new generations of sorcerers rose to protect the world from curses. Nanami had become a respected mentor, imparting his wisdom and experience to aspiring sorcerers.

Nanami and Y/N's bond had only grown stronger with time. They had faced numerous trials together, their love and determination unwavering. As they stood on the rooftop of the jujutsu sorcerer headquarters, gazing out at the city skyline, they reflected on their journey and the lessons they had learned.

"I never imagined our lives would be like this," Y/N said, her voice tinged with a mix of awe and gratitude. "From the moment we met, everything changed. We've faced so much together."

Nanami smiled, his eyes filled with warmth. "Indeed, our lives have been filled with challenges and victories. But it's precisely those experiences that have shaped us into who we are today. We've grown stronger, not just as individuals, but as a couple."

They leaned against the railing, their bodies close and their fingers intertwined. The breeze rustled through their hair, carrying with it a sense of peace and contentment. They marveled at how far they had come, their love serving as a beacon of light in the darkest of times.

"Do you remember when we first met?" Nanami asked softly, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "It feels like a lifetime ago, and yet, I can still recall the way your eyes sparkled when our paths crossed."

She couldn’t help but let out a chuckle, a fondness evident in her voice. "Yes, that chance encounter in the bustling café. Little did we know that it would lead us down this incredible path. Fate really does have a funny way of bringing people together."

Nanami turned to face her, his eyes filled with affection. "I'm grateful for that twist of fate. Meeting you, falling in love with you—it's the greatest gift life has bestowed upon me."

Y/N's heart swelled with love, their gaze mirroring Nanami's. "And I feel the same, Kento. You've shown me what it means to be strong, to fight for what we believe in. Our love has given me the courage to face any challenge."

As the sun began to set, casting a warm golden glow across the city, a sense of peace washed over them. They knew that their journey was far from over, that new challenges would arise, but they were ready to face them together.

"We've come so far, but there is still much to be done," Nanami said, his voice filled with determination. "The world still needs us, and we have a responsibility to protect it."

Y/N simply nodded, with her eyes shining with resolve. "We'll continue to fight, to protect those who can't protect themselves. Our love will be our guiding light, our strength in the face of darkness."

Hand in hand, they turned their gazes toward the cityscape, their hearts filled with hope for the future. The world was still a place of danger and uncertainty, but they were prepared to face it head-on. With their love as their anchor, they would navigate the challenges ahead, supporting and inspiring one another every step of the way.

And so, Nanami and Y/N embarked on a new chapter of their lives, their love serving as a beacon of hope in a world still plagued by curses. Together, they would continue to fight, to protect, and to embrace the future with open hearts and unwavering determination.

Their love story had only just begun, and it would be written with strength, resilience, and a love that transcended time itself.

THE END

story masterlist

[driftwithme]

That deleted scene between Chuck and Herc haunts me because that is the ThesisTM of Chuck as a character.

Let's see:

He feels he was not raised by a man, but by the machines he grew up around. I'd admit this one is more implicit, so let me explain. When Chuck says that Herc did not raised him to be anything, he then admits he spend more time around the machines than with Herc. Chuck doesn't even mentions anyone else human, not even the j-techs or other pilots. He goes to straight up mention the machines. Herc might have not raised him to be anything, but those machines thought him how to be a pilot.

He is perceived by other people as a great ranger but not a very good man. Which yeah, Chuck is great at his job, but what about his social life? We never see him around other people, talking or anything else. The movie makes a good point of separating him from the bunch in every scene. The only mention of him having a life is when he tells Raleigh that he wants to come back, but hold on, it takes us to another point.

When Herc asks him who is him and follows it by saying everybody knows he's a great ranger, Chuck asks his dad what else does Herc want him to be. He doesn't understand the question. He is doing what he is required to do, isn't it? So why is it not enough? At this point is obvious Chuck doesn't have an identity beyond being a jaeger pilot. That's not a job for him, that is his whole life, who he is, what he was raised to be. Is that the life he wants to return to? The life Chuck likes so much?

He tells Herc that the only reason they still talk if 'cause their drift compatibility and the fact they are good at smashing things. To me it sounded more like they are good at destroying, which could be a reference to how they constantly fail at mending their relationship. This means that the only meaningful connection he has is only there because of his job. And I'm not counting Max here, but it's all the same to say this man's alone in the world with only a dog for company.

When all is said and done, this scene was as an explanation for Chuck's death, narrative wise. He was no one without the kaiju war or the ranger job. He had no identity beside the identity of a soldier. Every other character's storyline has a figurative anchor, except of course the ones who died: The pilots of both Cherno and Crimson died with their family and jaegers, Pentecost trade places with G. Danger for them to survive and Chuck? Well, Chuck gave his anchor (Max) to his dad, so Herc would have something after he's gone.

The PPDC and Team Danger also work as an anchor for Herc, since he still had to be there until the mission was over. Hannibal Chau had an anchor (his business) and ended up surviving as well.

So I guess, in the sense that New was born to study monsters and fall in love with them, Chuck was fight in that war and made it his mission to end it. He doesn't survive because his arc in the story was over, solved, done.

That's the genius of the Hansen meeting deleted scene. It sets the tragedy to happen.

[wannaeatramyeon]

So you write for Seongjoon huh?😏

I have a request for him (I love him so much!!)

His s/o breaking up with him but not because he was a Yakuza member but because of something else, maybe something related to his ex gf and him trying to get back together with reader.

I love angst to fluff🥰

Thanks in advance !!

Black anon

Listen, I promise I read over pretty thoroughly every ask I get. Then I go away, start writing, thinking yes yes this is it. Then come back and read over the ask again and realise I've barely hit the mark.

Baek Seongjun x Reader: Broken

You were there to put back the pieces after Hwang Hye-yeon.

You could never blame her. You would have done the same thing in her place, assumed the same motives.

But it's unfortunate that you find yourself loving a man so irrevocably damaged. You're not even sure if he has a heart. Maybe he had one that was fragmented and splintered and never put back whole again, maybe it was never there in the first place.

You made do with the pieces that you had. Cutting yourself, willingly let yourself bleed on his sharp edges. Painstakingly pouring your love and adoration and devotion into this task. Giving him all of yourself.

Sometimes you would find him staring off into the distance, his mind and thoughts a world away from you. These moments he shuts himself off from everything and everyone.

Sometimes he treats you like you're the only human in the world, the only one he sees.

You take the good with the bad. The shards still finds itself under your skin. Finds your doubts and insecurities.

.

.

Seongjun comes homes to you with your bags packed. You had nothing else to give. What else was there to say? What else could you do?

Out of everyone, he had never expected you to give up. His rock, his anchor. He had taken for granted that you would always be there.

Your dedication to him had always been easy to see. Why had he never shown you the same courtesy? Why does he find it so difficult to wear his heart on his sleeve - to show you what you truly mean to him?

To show how hard it is, how frustrating that he couldn't bring himself to bare everything to you. That his past and his true self is a monster, that he couldn't handle the rejection if you knew.

His tears surprise you both. He approaches you and murmurs promises into your hair. That he thinks he could make you happy.

That you make him feel honourable again, like someone he used to be.

(Who did he used to be? You didn't know. He never let you in.)

He wraps his arms around your waist. Clinging on, willing you to stay in his life.

"I love you. I'm trying."

The words hits you like a gut punch.

"Will that be enough?"

You look into his eyes. Beneath the tears, you see a new-found clarity and steely determination.

"Everything I am belongs to you."

Your breath hitches at the admission.

The days and nights you have spent with him, the scars you have formed. What's another chance.

.

.

He lays every part of himself before you.

The puzzle of Baek Seongjun becomes easier now you can see the whole picture. His worst fears are never realised. You stay by his side.

Slowly. Piece by piece. Together, you mend his heart.

For the first time in a long time, Seongjun finally feels it: happiness.