#as long as it is tempered with some love and there's a promise of relief 😅

[katsigian]

𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙏𝙍𝘼𝙂𝙄𝘾 𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀 𝘼𝙍𝘾𝙃𝙀𝙏𝙔𝙋𝙀 ⋆.𖥔 ݁ ˖

This quiz was sent to me and it hurt good bad so I figured maybe the mutuals would also wany to do it, too ♡ While my OCs are CP77 and BG3 based, you can do this for any OC from any setting. I'm going to tag some people, but if you'd rather not share your results, there's no pressure to do so! There's also no pressure to interact with this post

────────── Find the quiz here

@rindemption @noirapocalypto @spicyraeman @alphanight-vp @swanfey @quickhacked @westealtoys @mercymaker @vanoefucks @hazellblogs @seluned @kharonion @nncc77 @peaches-n-screem @balverine2077 @humberg @strafethesesinners @envergothash @duskfey @mrdekarios @feykiller @aggravateddurian @dameayliins @wilxfyre @opaleyedprince @daedricshrine @ncytiri @nokstella @ruinbringer @cyberneutral @yharnams @thedeadthree @shellibisshe @hibernationsuit @aelyosos @wistereia @leota-nexus @baldurians @togepies @florbelles @ronqueesha @roarmoreau @molochka-koshka @devilbrakers @elvenbeard @zyana-wyvern @estevnys @gortash @vayneoc

𝙑𝘼𝙇𝙀𝙉 // 06. 𝘿𝙀𝙑𝙊𝙐𝙍𝙀𝙍 ⋆.𖥔 ݁ ˖

❝ Love's a knife to skin to you, a vein to woven muscle, a blood puddle before you. You listened to all the promises of a stranger's relief and feel the drain of a shower head running it all down again. You committed another murder; kissed and bruised skin with a clench to a quivering wrist and went home in the defeaning quiet of a taxi. There's mold covered rage within you. If to take a heart home with you, you'd bite your way through muscle and ribcage first. Pleasure comes, but there will be no devouring past it. There is fear in settling down and being seen. There is a glass screen between these bodies and you. Relax your tight jaw and feel the real canine fear beneath that scabbed up cavity. The sacrifice of opening up is needed if to be loved as you deeply wish is inside. Desire doesn't discriminate between hands or spoken word. Why should you? ❞

I really liked this one for Valen specifically because it talks about how lonely he once was; how he'd find the most temporary comfort within a stranger and then go home alone to have to face the quiet again. I love how it compares love-making to a murder because there's not many things Valen likes more than leaving loving bruises behind on soft skin from kissing too roughly. He also felt like for the longest time like he had a thick glass barrier between him and everyone else - you can look, but don't get too close to me. He wanted so badly to be loved for so long in spite of how he'd keep everyone at arms' length. It was a safety measure, because the past kept coming back to remind him that when he let others inside, past the walls, all they did was grab his heart and twist. Imagine wanting to be loved so badly you ached but at the same time feared it. All Valen wants is to be devoured by another who'll keep him safe within themselves.

𝙑𝙀𝙎𝙋𝙀𝙍 // 01. 𝙈𝘼𝙐𝘿𝙇𝙄𝙉 𝙈𝘼𝙂𝘿𝘼𝙇𝙀𝙉𝙀 ⋆.𖥔 ݁ ˖

❝ An embrace with the shivering figure of a ghost. You cut your hair at 3 a.m. to change it all but it is no use. Love is a war to endure to you. You comfort and hold, kiss pressed to temple and cheek while feeling the numbness filling your nights to brim. What used to feel honorable has now become chore of breathing to sustain another. What else is love, but your lap to lay another's head into? Your fingers turn blue in the announcing dawn, the cold figure of what you used to know of yourself remains asleep next to them. Another version of you has crept out of your old body, has ripped and eaten itself out of a cast that was fused into the position of nurturing comfort. Remove yourself from your lovers before they become part of you, conjoined with your arms to anothers head you have no life apart of maudlin magdalene. You have given endlessly, but this isn't all there is to you. Acknowledge the good that has been done and let yourself be free. You deserve to feel held as well, you are more than what you can give of yourself before breaking down. ❞

This one again feels pretty fitting for Vesper. He's not like his brother Valen - he gives much more easily than he does and is more open with what he truly wishes for. But it's become more of a burden for Vesper to keep opening up his heart and not getting those things he really wants. He gives very easily, tries to support the people he's let inside, but it gets tiring when he gets not enough in return. Eventually, he does find someone who will give him all he needs and more, but everything up until that point was Vesper thinking that he had to be a giver, whether it was his body or his affection or anything else.

#i love the tragic stuff #as long as it is tempered with some love and there's a promise of relief 😅 #let me know if you don't want to be tagged in this stuff there's no hard feelings! #or let me know if you would like to be tagged in the future #cp2077 #cp77 #cbp2077 #cyberpunk oc #cyberpunk 2077 oc #male v #masc v #original character #uquiz #tag games 💌 #⠀- ̗̀ ⸨ 𝔳𝔢𝔰𝔭𝔢𝔯 𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔩𝔞𝔴 ⸩⁺☀︎⭒๋ #⠀- ̗̀ ⸨ 𝔳𝔞𝔩𝔢𝔫 𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔩𝔞𝔴 ⸩⁺☀︎⭒๋ #⠀- ̗̀ ⸨ 𝔳𝔞𝔩𝔢𝔫//𝔩𝔬𝔯𝔢 ⸩⁺☀︎⭒๋

[tamrielic]

pairing – scaramouche | wanderer × f!reader

fandom | media – genshin impact

word count – 4,659・AO3

summary – you’ve been avoiding him, and he needs to know why.

tags﹠warnings – smut・porn with plot・degradation・dirty talk・angst・hurt/comfort・fluff・scaramouche being scaramouche・scaramouche is his own warning honestly・vulnerable scaramouche・emotional reader・reader is very subtly implied to be plus-sized・reader has afab!genitalia

originally posted on – 11/07/2022

author’s note (11/07/2022) – if you’d told me a month or so ago that i’d write an almost 5,000 word smutfic featuring scaramouche, i would’ve laughed in your face... but here we are! i dedicate this fic to one of my most beloved and beautiful besties, gen aka getousimp aka gixxie, because she’s absolutely amazing and is the #1 scaramouche fan!!! i really hope that i did him justice, and i hope y’all enjoy – this is only my second ever smutfic that i’ve written and/or posted online! ALSO – i wrote this entire thing before the archon quest that features him (archon quest interlude chapter: act iii – inversion of genesis) and before he was (finally) released as a playable character, so... his characterization is questionable!

The smell of incense and the crackling of the fire in the large marble fireplace greet you as you step inside the mansion in the adepti teapot realm you call home, shutting the doors as quietly as possible behind you and releasing a soft sigh of relief when there is no noise to imply you’ve been heard.

Slowly, you make your way across the main area of the house to the room that was designated as the library and office, slipping inside silently and quickly sliding the doors shut behind you.

Inhaling deeply, you march over to the desk to begin sorting through the large pile of letters that had accumulated during your absence.

You’ve been traveling with Paimon, helping the Aranara in Sumeru and avoiding… well, avoiding multiple things. Searching for your brother, your various promises and responsibilities, and most importantly a certain short-tempered Anemo wielder.

Coming out of the haze of your thoughts, you notice the messy stack of books that had undoubtedly been made by some of your numerous guests and you huff as you grab them and go to put them away.

It wasn’t that Scaramouche had done anything wrong per se, it was more the issue of you being so naturally affectionate and showing it via physical touch and honest words… and worrying that it was becoming too much for him, or too annoying. Or both.

It hasn’t been that long since he’s joined your group of friends… only about two months, though could you honestly say that the two of you were friends?

He was so hot and cold, at times he was standoffish and rude, snapping at everyone and everything and it was during those times that you swore he hated you… but then the next time you’d come across him or have him join you while adventuring, he’d look at you with an unreadable expression and allow you to touch him without bristling, especially when you two were alone, and the back and forth of it confused you.

You’ve been oddly drawn to him ever since you had first met him in Inazuma, his voice sticking in your head and repeating his taunting words and the vision of him sauntering towards you with that insufferable smirk wouldn’t leave your mind…

In truth, your feelings have only gotten stronger as time had passed, especially after he’d reluctantly joined your adventuring team and you’d inevitably gotten to know him better.

If you are being honest, the sexual tension between you two could likely be cut with a knife and served on a platter… in addition to there being purer, deeper romantic feelings present.

It’s far too early to call it “love”, but it is certainly well on its way to becoming that dreaded word… on your end, at least.

You can feel your face heat up in response to the direction your thoughts have gone and as you shove the last book onto the bookshelf you lean forward and bonk your forehead against the hardwood in an effort to clear your mind.

In your distraction you haven’t noticed that the subject of your thoughts has snuck into the room and is moving towards you with purpose.

A pale hand suddenly slams down to grasp onto the shelf right behind you, the other hand gripping your waist and spinning you to face the intruder.

Purple eyes meet yours, anger making them almost burn from their intensity as he leans in so his face is mere inches away from yours.

Gasping, you shrank back against the bookshelf. “Scaramouche? What–?”

“You’ve been avoiding me. Why?” He bites out, eyes narrowing slightly and the fingers at your waist twitching in what you assumed to be frustration.

Blinking at him while you try to gather your thoughts, you can’t help but notice that he isn’t wearing his usual amount of layers – just the tight black high-collared shirt and his shorts and sandals rather than his familiar complex ensemble – and your face heats at the realization that so much of his skin was now visible to you.

Swallowing to try and moisten your suddenly dry mouth, you’re sure that your face openly shows how flustered you are.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’ve been busy but I haven’t been–”

“Cut the bullshit. Do you think I’m an idiot? It’s not like you’ve been subtle about it, and it’s pissing me off,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes as he moves the hand that has been pinning you to the bookshelf to grasp the back of your neck, his thumb brushing against the sensitive skin of your nape.

Eyes widening at his actions and words, you clear your throat and square your shoulders.

“I’m sorry that you feel that way, Scaramouche, but–”

“Why are you calling me that?” He snaps, scowling at you with narrowed eyes.

“Calling you what? Your name?” You reply, eyes darting away from his prying gaze.

It was true that you haven’t necessarily been subtle, but you had assumed that he wouldn’t take much notice of the lack of attention and affection that he seemed to find barely tolerable – this vehement reaction was very unexpected and it was leaving you reeling.

He lets out an angry sigh before his fingers grasp your chin and force you to meet his eyes.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He demands, eyes flickering over your face as his lips turn down into a slight pout.

Glancing down at his mouth, you unconsciously wet your lips and his gaze immediately hones in on it.

Gasping softly, your mouth gapes a bit in surprise as you observe how his burning purple eyes darken as he focuses on your mouth, leaning ever so slightly closer and tilting his head as if entranced.

“Scaram–mmph!”

Lips pressing to yours cut you off, a low groan escaping him when you immediately reciprocate.

Eyes fluttering shut as you breathe him in, you bring your hands up to scratch your fingers through the coarse hair of his undercut.

Scaramouche growls then, shoving you up against the bookshelf as he presses as much of his body as he can to your own, the hand on your waist now groping at your soft skin.

Whimpering, your eyes shoot open and you tear your mouth from his to gasp for air as he starts roughly kissing down your jaw.

“Don’t lie, you were avoiding me. Because of this?” He whispers, lips and warm breath brushing the shell of your ear.

Exhaling with a whine, you nod before his lips press to your own again for a brief moment before he pulls away, nipping at your bottom lip.

He smirks at your dumb expression, tugging you over to the table in the middle of the room and reminding you that he was much stronger than he looked by easily lifting you up to sit on the edge, pushing the letters off and out of the way.

Gasping indignantly, you open your mouth to reprimand him but he takes the opportunity to kiss you again, sliding his tongue in your mouth with a muffled groan.

You can’t help but to close your eyes as your tongue glides against his, feeling that insufferable smirk of his against your lips.

Sliding his hands down to your thighs, he roughly pulls them apart so he can step between them and press his body to yours once again.

He chuckles at your resulting moan, slowly pulling back and licking his lips as if savoring the taste of you.

Your eyes flutter open as you unconsciously follow after him to chase his lips, his smirk growing at your resulting frustrated pout.

“You wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid,” he teases, chuckling at your resulting scowl – but you didn’t deny it.

Before you could formulate a response, he grasps your hips and slides them towards him, making you yelp and slam your hands down on the table behind you to keep from collapsing.

Keeping his dark eyes locked with yours, he leans over you and slides his fingers under the waistband of your pants, tilting his head and tugging ever so slightly in question.

Biting your lip, you lift your hips in response, wiggling a little in impatience.

Inclining his head towards you, he pulls your pants off roughly and your arms give out as you collapse back down on the edge of the table, panting.

His hands tug at the hem of your shirt next as he bends over you, lips pressing bruising kisses to your neck as he slowly lifts it, fingertips tickling along the soft skin of your stomach.

Gasping, you reach between you and nudge his hands aside, practically tearing your shirt up and over your head to get rid of the offending garment.

“Eager, aren’t we?” He murmurs, chuckling lowly as he goes back to mouthing at your neck.

You whine and grab at his back as he bites down on your collarbone, his muscles flexing in response to the feeling of your fingernails digging into his skin as you jolt and cry out.

Groaning, he tears himself away from you to do a slow perusal of the skin that’s been bared to him.

You feel like you’re going to implode, the way his eyes manage to get even darker and his expression more severe in its blatant lust, and you jerk your hips up uncontrollably in response.

His eyes immediately flick down to where you’re soaked and burning for him and his throat bobs with a swallow before he looms over you, skimming his hand slowly down the curve of your waist before sliding a finger against the wetness of the fabric concealing you from him.

“Look at you, look at how wet you are – is this all for me?” He questions, voice gone rough from arousal.

Nodding and biting your lip, you can’t help but to grind up into his fingers.

“So needy,” he grunts, crouching down to nip at your inner thigh.

“Scara, I–!”

“Oh, we’re back to Scara now, hm?” He laughs harshly, making quick work of tugging your panties down and off your legs as he shakes his head at you.

“Scara, I’m sorry–!”

“You should be,” he interrupts you again, glaring up at you from between your legs.

You’re a desperate whimpering mess at this point, and you don’t manage to form a response before he runs his fingers up your inner thighs and jerks them open as much as your body will allow.

“Now be a good girl and say “please” and maybe I’ll give you what you want,“ he growls, brushing the tip a finger through your wetness.

“Please, Scara, I need you!” You whine, embarrassed at how needy you sound but also so turned on that you can’t bring yourself to care.

Smirking, he finally takes mercy on you and slowly slides a finger into you, eyes widening at the feel of your slick warmth.

You keen and writhe against the table when he slowly adds another finger and crooks them, expertly massaging a spot on your inner walls that makes you see stars and causes more heat to pool between your thighs.

“Look at you, getting all worked up over nothing! Your pretty pussy can barely handle my fingers – what a pathetic little thing you are,” he laughs mockingly, thrusting his fingers into you roughly.

Panting, you bite your lip and glance down to meet his eyes, silently begging him for more as your thighs tremble and your back arches.

Breath hitching at your desperation, he suddenly shoves his head between your thighs and licks a broad stroke through your folds, swirling his tongue around your clit before lightly grazing his teeth against it.

You wail, your walls contracting around his fingers as you feel like you’ve been hit by lightning as the tension snaps, little whines escaping you as your hips shudder and grind against his face.

Chuckling, he laps up your release as you ride out your high before getting up and looming over you, smirking at your fucked out expression.

“We’ve barely gotten started and already you’re being such a good little slut for me,” he murmurs, licking his lips suggestively when your eyes flutter open to blearily look at him.

You want to pinch yourself because you swear this has to be a dream, it is all happening so quickly and you’ve just had one of the best orgasms of your entire life but are somehow still so unbelievably horny for him.

His face is flushed and he still has some of your juices on his chin, but his eyes burn with the depth of his want for you as your gazes meet and he smirks, smug about having made you cum.

Glancing down and seeing the tented fabric of his shorts, you lift your still shaking legs to wrap around his waist and pull him into you, rolling your hips against his clothed cock and watching his face intently.

His eyes flutter closed and he lets out a strangled moan, back bowing and lips hovering over your own as he clutches at your hips and ruts into the warmth between your legs.

“Scara, I’m all yours – take me,” you whisper, reaching up to cup his cheeks and pull his head down to kiss him.

Jolting his head back just as your lips brush his, his eyes shoot open and he pants while looking at you incredulously.

You furrow your brows at his sudden change in attitude, your thumbs lightly brushing his cheekbones and you bite your lip, suddenly afraid that you’ve said the wrong thing.

After a moment of his eyes frantically scanning your expression – looking for what exactly, you weren’t sure – his hands slam down on either side of your head.

“Always so honest about your emotions,” he hisses, eyes becoming unreadable as he nips at your lips yet refuses to let you close the gap. “It’s really fucking infuriating, you know that?”

Huffing in exasperation to hide how his seemingly indignant response hurts your feelings, you glare up at him.

“Fine, then – can you just fuck me already, Kunikuzushi?”

He pulls back, smoldering eyes glaring into your own as he releases a shattered breath in response to you calling him that name.

“Oh, now you’re making demands of me?” He rasps, regaining his composure with a harsh thrust against your cunt.

Suddenly hit with a wave of irritation and frustration, you push your hands against his chest in an attempt to get him off of you.

“If you don’t want to, then nevermind,” you mutter, turning your head away to hide the “if you don’t want me” implied from your tone and expression.

Lunging to press your wrists down into the table above your head with one hand, he turns your head back towards him with the other, a deep scowl on his face.

“Why are you putting words into my mouth? What gives you the right to assume what I do or don’t want?”

You glare at him, trying to jerk your face out of his harsh grip which only makes his fingers dig into your jaw harder as he crowds you against the table with his body.

“Stop being such a fucking brat,” he growls as he presses quick, bruising kisses against your lips.

“Make me!” You snarl back at him, body writhing under his own.

He chuckles lowly before it morphs into him laughing loudly and mockingly as he observes your struggles.

“Gladly.”

Letting go of your face to swiftly pull down his shorts just enough to free his erection, he groans as he slides it between your folds.

“Fuck… this is my pussy, it belongs to me and only me, doesn’t it?”

Whimpering and nodding in response, your hands struggle to escape his grasp as you grind your hips against the tip of his cock, trying miserably to get it to catch in your soaking wet opening.

He shudders against you, grabbing your hip with his free hand to hold you still.

“No, no,” he chides, his signature smirk back on his lips. “Only good girls get rewarded, and you’ve been such a brat.”

“Scara, fuck, just take me!” You keen, so overwhelmed with frustration and pleasure that there are tears gathering in your eyes.

Scaramouche laughs, one that borders on a cackle, before he presses his lips against your temple.

“Are you crying? You want me that bad, huh? You’re so fucking pathetic, you did this to yourself you know,” he whispers roughly, tongue flicking out to run along the shell of your ear.

“But don’t worry, I’ll take pity on you.”

He suddenly thrusts into you, bottoming out and leaving you a moaning and babbling mess as he holds himself still to allow you to adjust to his size.

“Oh Archons, please–!”

“Don’t pray to them, they can’t help you, pray to me,” he snarls, pulling out of you just enough for you to whine at the loss before roughly thrusting back inside and making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“Scara, Kuni, please – fuck – more, faster!”

He grants your request with a strangled moan, hips slamming into your own at such a desperate and brutal pace that you know there’s going to be bruises.

Leaning down so your foreheads are pressed together, you stare into each other’s eyes and pant as the sound of his hips slapping against yours fills the air.

The hand that has been keeping your wrists bound lets go, fingers instead curling into the sheets as he continues his merciless thrusts – eyes observing your every reaction hungrily.

“Kuni, feels s’good!” You sob, your now free arms reaching up to wrap around his neck and your legs tightening around his hips.

“F-fuck!” He whimpers, cock twitching against your walls and hips stuttering against you.

Your body feels like it’s melting, fingers carding through his hair to shakily push it out of his face so you can view the way his brow furrows as he grits his teeth.

“Say it,” he commands shakily, jerking your face up so he can stare into your eyes. “Say that you’re mine. My slut, my whore, my everything.”

“Anything and everything that I am is yours, Kunikuzushi,” you choke out with a sob, following up your declaration by tilting your hips and pressing your lips to his, gliding your tongue in and tasting him as he groans at the feeling of your walls fluttering around his cock.

His thrusts grow even more frantic and deep and you roll your hips up to meet his movements, your sweaty bodies writhing together as you fully succumb to each other.

“I’m gonna paint your insides,” he gasps into your mouth, sliding a hand down to rub your swollen clit. “I’m gonna fill you up–!”

Those words and the added stimulation flood your body with overwhelming heat and you wail as you are thrown over the edge, gushing around his cock as he delivers one last powerful thrust before spilling into you with a choked moan.

His trembling body slumps over yours and he buries his head in your shoulder, gasping for air as your bodies continue to twitch with the aftershocks.

After a few moments pass, Scaramouche slowly peels himself away from you, his eyes darting away from your unintentionally open, loving gaze as he slowly slides out of you with a quiet grunt.

Sighing at the loss of him, you inelegantly scoot forward to hop off the table, squeezing your legs together to keep his cum from trickling down your legs.

He snatches the clothes from where they are strewn on the floor and puts his shorts back on before turning to you and holding out your panties and trousers with a blank expression.

Your face feels hot from embarrassment at how drastically his attitude has changed from just a few moments ago and you reach out to grab your clothing, eyes searching him for a sign of… anything, but finding him to be totally unreadable.

Mortified, you turn to the side and shake out your pants, the realization of what had just happened finally hitting you. You haven’t even fully undressed, too engrossed and desperate for each other that you just… went at it like animals in heat.

You don’t notice when he turns and goes to the desk in the corner to grab the box of tissues and bring it to you, clearing his throat as his eyes drift to where your combined fluids were beginning to slowly trickle down your inner thighs.

Flinching at being torn from your downward spiral of second-guessing everything that has happened within the past hour, you look up and slowly reach out to take the box from him, being careful to not brush your fingers together – you aren’t sure where his mind is at and you don’t want to scare him off by being clingy.

“Thank you,” you breathe, pulling his gaze back up to your face and flashing him a quick smile before you turn away to clean yourself up as much as you can.

He turns and walks over to stand in front of the window to give you privacy, which you find very amusing considering what you had just been doing, but you can’t help but watch him out of the corner of your eye as he crosses his arms and seemingly becomes lost in though, his hair mussed and his lips still flushed from the plethora of bruising kisses.

Finding him attractive obviously wasn’t a new development, but it suddenly hits you with the beam of sunlight shining in through the window that was illuminating him just how… beautiful he is.

Shaking your head to clear your thoughts and hurrying to pull your clothes back on, you take a deep breath and summon all the courage you possess.

He turns to look at you as you come to stand next to him, and you were hit once again by how pretty he is; the slope of his nose, his eyelashes, his–

“What are you looking at?” His voice, still a little rough from your activities, snaps you out of your admiration and you blink at him.

He’s staring at you with his brow raised, lips ever so slightly turned down.

“So pretty,” you whisper, eyes widening in panic when you realize that you’ve spoken your inner thoughts aloud.

Scaramouche blinks at you in disbelief, processing your words before letting out a short, humorless laugh.

“I can’t believe it, I actually fucked you dumb!” He snickers, but the smirk on his lips doesn’t reach his eyes.

You gape at him, mouth opening and closing as you try to figure out how to respond to his dismissive attitude.

He grasps your chin in his hand, making the decision of closing your mouth for you, and rolls his eyes.

Grabbing the hand holding your chin, you place soft kisses on his palm, staring into his eyes and pleading for him to understand how truthful you’re being.

Scowling, he wrenches his hand away from you, taking a step back and shaking his head.

“Scara, we need to talk ab–”

“Do we? I disagree,” he snaps, turning and stalking towards the door.

“Kunikuzushi,” you whisper in desperation, and he freezes in place as he’s reaching for the door handle.

“This whole situation started because I was avoiding you, and it made you angry and upset. And yet you’re about to go and do the exact same thing to me. How is that fair?” You demand, voice shaking from all of the emotions you’re trying to keep in check.

He slowly turns to face you, eyes narrowing.

“Life isn’t fair – what do you want from me?”

It’s like you’re talking to a different person, the man in front of you is not the man that railed you into oblivion and ruined you for all others just a minute ago. This man reminds you of a feral cat – suspicious, mistrustful, insecure…

Your hands are shaking, the anxiety over bearing your heart to him causing you to hesitate briefly.

“What do you want from me?” You snap back. “Is this what you wanted? Just a quick fuck? Is that really all I am to you? Some poor, pathetic sap who’s attention and affection makes you feel good about yourself?”

Scaramouche stood there staring at you, unmoving and unblinking, for what felt like ages.

“Okay, you know what – nevermind! You’re free to go, but honestly at this point I almost hope that you just never come back,” you scoff, eyes watering, throwing your hands up in the air and turning away so he can’t see you cry and so you don’t have to look at his stupid perfect face anymore.

All you hear is a faint whisper of fabric before he spins you around and cups your face in his hands, his mouth pressing a desperate, bruising kiss to your lips.

Gasping, you put your hands on his chest and shove him back, your embarrassment making you feel fragile and hostile.

“That isn’t an answer, Scara, and I’m not a mind reader so I can’t–”

“Everything,” he rasps, closing his eyes and nudging his forehead against yours.

“... what?” You furrow your brow, confused.

“You asked what I wanted from you. I answered. Everything. I want everything from you. I want you to be mine,” he whispers, warm breath brushing your lips when he follows up his statement with a shaking sigh.

Your bottom lip trembles as you try to keep your voice from cracking with emotion.

“If I am yours, then you have to be mine. I want everything from you, too. I want to kiss you, touch you, hold you, love you.”

He inhales shakily, opening his eyes.

“If you can’t tell that I’m already yours, that I’ve been yours since you aimed that fucking smile of yours towards me, then you’re an absolute fucking idiot.”

“It’s kind of hard to tell when you’re always so wishy-washy on whether you tolerate me or not, Scaramouche,” you respond, blinking at him innocently, his sudden reveal of his feelings giving you courage.

“What did I say about calling me that?” He growls, stepping closer to press himself against you.

“Oh, I’m sorry, sir – is Kunikuzushi acceptable then?” You simper, mimicking his usual smirk to the best of your ability.

His eyes widen and his cheeks and ears flush a faint pink as he grumbles, dropping his arms to wrap them around your waist.

“Keep it up and I’ll have to drag you to your bedroom and teach you a lesson, brat,” he growls, pressing his mouth to your ear.

You turn your head to press a kiss to his neck, grinning uncontrollably now as you both shift seamlessly back into the dynamic that had been created when he had gotten settled in your group – the usual snarky banter and the easy affection you give him comforting after the unsureness that was present just now.

“Is that a threat or a promise? Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

He huffs and rolls his eyes, pulling away to grasp your arm and drag you out of the room.

“Wait, what–?” You stammer, following him gracelessly.

“It seems that I still have to teach you some fucking manners, slut.”

Glancing back at you as he leads you through the door, the look in his eyes and his smirk makes your face heat.

“But you’ll be a good girl and cooperate with me, won’t you?”

You swallow, overwhelmed with all of the filthy thoughts that run through your mind before you shake your head to ground yourself.

It had required a lot of vulnerability and a rollercoaster of emotions, but you finally know your feelings are reciprocated… and as you let him take you to your room you realized that Scaramouche was about to show you just how much in long, excruciatingly wonderful detail.

© kaeyaphile | tamrielic – please do not modify, repost, plagiarize and/or claim any of my work as your own and please do not promote any of my works on other social media platforms (tiktok, facebook, wattpad, etc.)

#♡ – kayleigh.writes #genshin impact #genshin #scaramouche #wanderer #scaramouche genshin impact #scaramouche genshin #wanderer genshin impact #wanderer genshin #genshin impact scaramouche #genshin impact wanderer #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #genshin impact x f!reader #genshin x f!reader #scaramouche x f!reader #wanderer x f!reader #genshin impact x female reader #genshin x female reader #scaramouche x female reader #wanderer x female reader #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #scaramouche smut #wanderer smut

[fatuismooches]

love from afar.

synopsis: The long absence of your lover has taken a toll on your heart, so it's only natural you find a new way to reach him.

includes: childe, scaramouche w/ gn! reader

notes: The latest TCG event got me thinking about how cute it would be for Kirara to deliver literal love letters to people for you. Lots and lots of fluff, the Harbingers miss you dearly. (I know Scara's part doesn't exactly line up with the canon timeline of the game, but let's just ignore it for the sake of fluff.)

Your boyfriend was a Fatui Harbinger. The mere phrase was enough to make many, even the strongest of warriors, run cold with fear. But when you heard the name of your beloved, it only filled you with the warmest of feelings - love.

And you knew more than anything in this world that he loved you. That was enough to make every day worthwhile, even though he was oceans across from you.

But, being the lover of a Fatui Harbinger was no easy task. It meant not being able to have the normalcy most people craved, to wake up to your partner every morning and enjoy the blissful sensation, to go out to restaurants and chat. To only be able to watch on as your friends move on and get married, maybe start families or adopt some pets, and settle into a sweet, domestic life.

Due to this, it had come to your attention that you missed your lover dearly. He had been away for quite some time, and although you exchanged letters, the length of time it took to arrive from overseas was not very pleasing. Which is why when you heard of the Komaniya Express’ impeccable international delivery service, your interest was piqued. 

Though when you went to the building where the company resided, you were having second thoughts. Yes, they could deliver anything to anyone, but to your boyfriend was another story. He was… well, you know, so you tried to back out of the deal. But the owner pressed you, restating their reliability. 

“You see, it’s not that I don’t have trust in Komaniya Express. I know they are quite reliable, but you see, the person I wish to deliver something to is…”

“Is?”

“A Fatui Harbinger.”

—

Scaramouche:

“A F-Fatui Harbinger?” The owner’s jaw dropped. “Well, I must say even we haven’t ever been asked to deliver something to someone of that caliber…”

“I know… so um, I think it’s best if I-”

“I want to deliver it!” A chipper voice sounded and a pretty girl popped up to the side of you. The first thing you noticed was her cat-like pupils, and then the two tails, and then the… paws!

“Oh Kirara, there you are. Back already?”

“Uh-huh! And now I’m interested in this job! Please, tell me more, and I swear I won’t fail.”

As much as you wanted this letter to be delivered, you didn’t want to send her out without notifying her of your lover’s… frequent outbursts. “Kirara, this is very sweet of you, but he has, um… a temper. It means he will probably be mean to you… and other things.”

“Don’t worry, cherished customer! I’ve already dealt with a bunch of clients with rather rude temperaments. I promise I will see to it that your package will reach his hands safely!”

You couldn’t help but smile in relief, and hand her your items. “Well… here’s a description. He has gorgeous indigo hair and eyes and wears traditional Inazuman clothes, and a large, beautiful hat too. You can’t miss him,” you said, almost dreamily, to which the two other Inazumans raised their eyebrows. Quickly you cleared your throat embarrassingly. “Anyway, he’s somewhere in Mondstadt. I’m sure if you follow some Fatui agents you’ll find him.”

“Oh, and a tip. Before you say anything to him, say my name first. He’ll probably be more inclined to listen to you if you do,” you recommended. Not many people knew of your relationship with Scaramouche, so uttering your name was sure to get his attention.

—

You weren’t joking when you said this Harbinger had a horrible temper. A very severe one in fact, as Kirara had just witnessed him berate a few of his subordinates, and now she was kind of having second thoughts. 

“Who’s there?” Suddenly, Scaramouche’s piercing eyes were on her, hand on his Delusion, and she meowed in surprise.

“[Name] sent me!!” Kirara blurted out to which the Harbinger widened his eyes, and then quickly narrowed them again, now even more on guard if that was possible.

“How do you know them? Speak carefully,” he nearly seethed. Kirara’s whole body was on edge.

“I’m your courier from Komaniya Express, and I’m just here to deliver something. See here, it’s a package from [Name]!” she flew through her words and quickly presented a sealed envelope, and Scaramouche immediately recognized the sealing wax on it. Lavender Melon. Wordlessly he snatched it and rubbed with it his thumbs.

It was real. He didn’t know how it got here, but he wasn’t going to wait a second longer to open it. Although he remained expressionless, he worried. Was it urgent? Did something happen? Were you hurt? His eyes scanned the letter.

Kuni, my one and only,

Ta-da! I bet you weren’t expecting this! Did you miss me, pretty boy?

You see, Inazuma has this amazing international express delivery thing, and it's supposedly really fast and efficient. Oh, and don’t worry, they don’t open the packages, so it’s completely safe! I know I always wait for one of your letters to arrive from wherever you are, but I haven’t gotten any. Is that because of the distance or have you not been writing…? It’d better be the former!

By the way, the other day, the head shrine maiden, came up and spoke to me. You know, the one with the big fox ears? I don’t know why she chose now of all times, considering we’ve been together for a while…

But she didn’t ask about you. All her questions were centered around me. I guess she just wanted to learn the kind of person I was, but now I understand why people think she’s scary… But back to the subject! Look at these photos I took!

[Attached are some images of beautiful Inazuman scenery, from different angles and locations. One of the photos has a blanket with two cups of tea set out. Lastly, there is a picture of you.]

I went to our usual spots by myself this time. I know it’s our thing, but you’ve been gone for so long this time. I am used to waiting, but you’ve been gone far longer than usual, no? I even forced myself to drink that bitter tea you like so much. I don’t know how you can stand that… And don’t worry, I’m fine. No hilichurls, no Treasure Hoarders, no one at all bothered me.

Keep the photos. That one photo you carry around of me is far too old, you know. This one was taken with a new model of the Kamera! What? Didn’t think I knew? Anyway, I think they’re pretty nice to look at. Hopefully, they’ll remind you of me, hehe. And motivate you to come back quicker to my arms, hmm? 

In all seriousness, I hope you’re well. I miss you dearly. You occupy my mind so much, I could never forget you even if I tried. The few pictures I have of you are barely keeping me at bay, Kuni.

I hope that eventually, there’ll be a day when I never leave your side, Kunikuzushi.

Scaramouche did not react, but inside he felt a twinge of loneliness too. Fuck, he missed you so much as well. Worse, the company he had were useless Fatui agents and his other unreliable Harbingers. And now that irritating kitsune was bothering you? When you belonged to him? His position as a Harbinger was beginning to drive him crazy.

How long had it been since he lay on your chest, falling asleep to the lull of your heartbeat? Been able to hear your lovely voice sing his praises, his cheeks growing hot? How he wanted you to always be by his side as well. But you needed not to worry.

Yes… when he reached godhood, that day will come true. You wouldn’t have to worry again.

“Oh, and if you’d like to write a reply and have me deliver it, that’d be great! [Name] seems to have been waiting for other letters from you for a while… they’ve already covered the cost for it too,” the youkai’s voice interrupted his thoughts. He had forgotten she was here. Though he still did not fully trust this being, he did hear about this company, being from Inazuma and all. And you deserved a reply most of all because clearly, the competent fools were not delivering his letters to you properly. He’ll have to teach them a lesson.

“Same spot, same time, tomorrow,” Scaramouche’s voice was the same irritated bite, as he turned around and disappeared.

—

A few days had passed and you were anxiously awaiting Kirara’s return. You envied her, being able to go where she wanted. To see your lover so easily. But you were used to the waiting game. So used to it, you knew exactly the amount of days that had gone by since you last saw Kuni. So accustomed to loneliness, that you counted the lines on your flooring to pass the time. It was your routine, so as soon as you heard the first knock at your door, you sped to open it at lightning speed.

And lo and behold, it was the person you wanted to see the second most, Kirara. In her hands rested a new envelope, definitely not the one you sent, which could only mean one thing. Your heart soared.

“Hello, dear customer, [Name]! I have successfully delivered your package to Scaramouche! I have a response from here right here,” she presented you with the letter and you had to resist the urge to snatch it. But you were quite impressed that she made it to the Scaramouche.

“Much better than those lousy Fatui agents, hmph… too scared to deliver a mere letter,” you muttered under your breath. “So, how’d it go? I hope he wasn’t too bad?”

“When I mentioned your name, he actually got more defensive, wondering how I knew you, haha. I was a bit scared for my tails for a second.”

“O-Oh, it makes sense he’d do that. I’m sorry I put you through that, Kirara…” You should have known that wasn’t a good idea. Scaramouche was extremely protective when it came to you. Your relationship was kept as secret as possible for a reason, as Scaramouche certainly did not have the best reputation.

“But then when he read your letter, his face softened all of a sudden…you must be really amazing if you could calm his temper down that quick!” Kirara meowed in excitement. “Humans are so amazing! And now, I thank you for choosing Komaniya Express!” 

“Haha, thank you, Kirara. We go a long way back… but I am quite pleased with the efficiency of your delivery. I think I will ask for your services again. Ah, and I’ll make sure to leave a five-star review for you!”

Kirara clasped her hands with joy and bowed deeply. “Thank you, thank you!” she squealed with happiness. “I’ll leave you to open your letter now! Thank you very much!”

You watched her leave but quickly slammed the door to rush into your room, jumping on your bed. You traced the outline of the seal, heart rapidly beating. Finally, something from your Kuni. You carefully opened the letter from Scaramouche as if it was the most precious thing you owned. Your heart sang at his familiar handwriting and you read each word slowly, trying to make the excitement last as long as possible.

To [Name],

I was surprised to see a youkai in Mondstadt, but it all made sense after I learned it was one of your childish antics again. Do you ever get tired of being a fool? …Though the fault is partially on me for believing these worms could fulfill any kind of job. From now on, I shall find another way for you to receive my letters. I am surrounded by brainless pests everywhere I turn here. No one is competent enough. Though you are an exception.

The last time I saw you, you had just recovered from being sick. Are you really well enough to be prancing about the place? If I come back and you’re not in good shape, there will be consequences. Make sure to use the recipes I left for you. They’re specifically good for frail human bodies like yours.

I hope you stopped falling asleep in the bath too. I’m not there with you to wake you up, so at least try to be alert.

Also, do not speak to the pink-haired kitsune. She will only bring trouble. When I come back, I expect you to tell me every single thing she asked you.

I don’t have a picture of you on me. You’re an idiot. Though, the clothes I brought suit you. Wear them more often.

Business here should finish up soon. But there’s a particularly annoying person in this world now, a blonde-haired traveler. If you see them, don’t talk to them. They’re dangerous.

I’ve attached a recipe for hash browns from Mondstadt. You always go on and on about how much you wanted to try different cuisine, so next time I come, I’ll have some more ready. Let’s see if you can make something better than my Shimi Chazuke.

I’ll see you soon. I expect to see you waiting with a cup of bitter tea.

And, the day where neither of us have to worry again is approaching. The preparations are already being made.

Your cheeks hurt from smiling so hard. His kindness was hidden under layers of mean words, his concern for you peeking through the words even if he tried not to show it. The puppet with a heart more human than he thought. 

Your Kunikuzushi. 

Though you wondered what that last line could mean…? You hoped he wouldn’t do something drastic.

Childe:

“Well… a Fatui Harbinger does sound like it could be a problem, even for our best courier…” Your shoulders drooped even though you knew that was true, but you still tried to defend Childe.

“I know how this sounds, but he’s actually quite nice to other people when he’s not on business… Even Yoimiya and the neighborhood kids can vouch for him!” You wanted to express how much of a sweetheart he was, but you thought that might harm his reputation with the members of the Fatui. Who were probably nearby, watching you from somewhere because of their orders from Childe.

“That sounds like an interesting job!” A cheery voice echoed from behind you and a girl appeared, one with two tails. Ah, she must be a youkai.

“Nice to meet you! I’m Kirara, and rest assured, I’ll deliver the package to this Harbinger of yours!” she nodded while smiling brightly.

“Really? Are you sure that you want to? I know it sounds daunting…”

“Don’t worry! I can’t work for Komaniya Express if I couldn’t deliver anywhere. And if Yoimiya really does like him, then I’m sure it’ll be fine!”

“Oh… thank you, thank you! Well, at this time he’ll be in Liyue Harbor. But it’s hard to get his exact location… so if you can’t find him, go to Wangsheng Funeral Parlor and ask for Zhongli. He’ll definitely know where Childe is. Thanks so much!” you happily handed the letter and small box of toys to Kirara, excited for her return. 

Childe was a Harbinger, but Ajax was the sweetest of men. You weren’t worried about anything happening, just the matter of Kirara actually finding him.

—

Locating the eleventh Harbinger was not as hard as Kirara thought it’d be. It seemed like he was quite well-known in Liyue. She spotted his ginger hair as he exited what looked to be an expensive restaurant and immediately scurried up to him.

“Hello, sir! Are you Childe, by any chance?” Childe was momentarily surprised at the girl initiating conversation, because of his Harbinger status and all.

“That’s me, alright. Is there something you need from me?”

“Great! See here, I have a package from [Name] to deliver to you.” Childe immediately straightened up at the sound of your lovely name.

“[Name]? Are you friends with them?” Childe’s eyes twinkled with interest. He’d love to hear about how you were doing.

“Oh, not quite,” Kirara laughed. “I’m just a humble courier that was sent to deliver this very important package for you! So please, sign here. Oh, but don’t worry about [Name]. They looked to be quite healthy when I saw them,” she quickly reassured him. “Feel free to send something back to them by the way. I’ll deliver it!”

He always felt so exhilarated with you, comparable to how he felt when he battled. Always so full of surprises, keeping him on his toes. Quickly, he ripped open the letter to see what words you weaved on the pages.

My beloved Ajax,

Hello, my dearest! I hope this letter finds you well. I know you said you’d be back soon, but I couldn’t resist trying to contact you through… you know. Alternate means. The Fatui agents never deliver our stuff quickly enough!

First, I know sometimes Teucer visits you in Liyue, so I’m sending over some plushies I’ve sewn for him. He still likes Ruin Guards, doesn’t he? Well, now he’s got the whole Ruin Machine collection. Please pass them on to him whenever you see him, and tell him I miss him dearly of course!

Secondly, well… I miss you more! I’ve been counting the days until I could see your pretty face again. I’ve been training as you told me to, but I’m afraid it’s kind of hard when we’ve been separated for so long… but I promise, I’ll be a worthy sparring partner! And, the neighborhood kids are asking me every day when you’re coming back. I’m going to have to start hiding in my house at this point.

Ah, how can I survive without a strong, handsome young man to carry all of my groceries home? Without his powerful arms to lift me everywhere I please? I truly am at a loss… (Am I making you miss me more? I hope it’s working.)

Oh yes, I was thinking, you and I have never been to the beaches in Inazuma together! I’m sure they’re nothing like the ones in Liyue, but they’re still pretty nonetheless. We should definitely go and collect some seashells and play in the water! (And you better not use your Hydro Vision to your advantage again!) 

Hopefully one day, the water fights can be snow ball fights instead, hmm? ;)

Love you!

P.S.: If I don’t receive a couple of dozen kisses the next time you visit, you’re being banned from cuddles.

Childe couldn’t help but smile and laugh as he read your letter. You were so, so cute. How did he get so lucky? And now he wanted to snatch you away to Snezhnaya even more. He wanted you to meet the rest of his family already.

“Would you wait here for a bit? I want to respond to them right away.”

—

You were just returning home when Kirara popped up out of nowhere, waving something in the air which you immediately recognized to be one of those fancy envelopes Childe always used. You nearly tripped on the trips as she came bounding up to you.

“I’m glad I caught you, [Name]! I’ve successfully delivered your package and have a reply here!” She placed the letter, and also a few hefty bags of what you already knew was Mora. It wasn’t a letter from Childe if he wasn’t trying to spoil you somehow.

“I’m so glad you found him! I hope it wasn’t too much trouble?” Kirara smiled and shook her head.

“He seemed to really miss you. He kept rereading your letter over and over. I think he was kind of disappointed when I didn’t have any news of you…” You couldn’t help but laugh. Childe really lived up to his name sometimes.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m just so happy you could deliver my stuff. Thanks once again!” Kirara bowed deeply and you waved her off.

You decided to sit down on the porch of your house. It was rather beautiful as Childe had purchased the loveliest one he could of course. With extreme care, you opened the letter and began reading.

Dearest [Name],

When I saw this lady with two tails, I thought she would be a great sparring partner. But then when she came up to me bearing a package from you, I was even more surprised! Missed me that much, hmm? Well, you’re not the only one… Waking up to a cold bed isn’t what I prefer.

Passing the time without you has been difficult. Liyue has some good fishing spots, but I miss having you next to me trying not to scream when you finally managed to catch something. Haha, have you been training in that too without me, love?

Anyway, you’re in luck. Teucer somehow got away and is in Liyue again… but I can’t be too mad. He’s been playing with your toys the whole day and making me join him too. Now, I can’t let you give such wonderful gifts to my family and leave you empty-handed! Here’s a couple of million Mora. I know that’s not much, but all the other gifts are stuck in transit… I hope they get there soon. There are clothes, jewelry, books, and, actually, let’s just wait until it comes.

I’m sorry to make you wait so long, baby. You’ve been so understanding of my duty and all, and I know you don’t deserve this. But I promise to make it up to you when I’m back. And, you know, I have been thinking about this for a while. You should come to live in Liyue. We still won’t be together all the time, but I’m stationed there more than the other nations. 

You can use my place to stay, it’s quite luxurious of course, and everyone here is very friendly. Mr. Zhongli in particular would like to meet you. So just think about it, okay? Also, the beach sounds quite nice. I hope you’re ready to be soaking wet because I’m not going to let you get away. (I will be using my Vision. It’s too funny to hear you squeal.)

Speaking of, I hear there’s going to be a festival in Inazuma soon, Yoimiya told me about it. I’ve never been to one, but it sounds rather exciting. There’s even a fighting competition! We should go together. And don’t worry, I’ll win all of the games at the stalls for you.

I have so many things to tell you when I get there. I also have a bunch of souvenirs from my travels too… there’s a story for each one. I hope you’re prepared! I expect to hear every detail about your life, too.

P.S.: I’ll hold you to that threat, comrade. I’ll be counting every single kiss, so don’t think about escaping.

P.P.S.: I’d still destroy you in a snowball fight. But we’ll see when you come to Snezhnaya.

You couldn’t contain your love and jumped up and down, holding the letter to your chest. How could a man be so sweet, charming, kind, and more? The list went on. But you couldn’t help but laugh at his handling of Mora. You had insisted every time he needn’t send you this much money, but alas.

Liyue, huh? You had never stepped foot outside of Inazuma, especially with the previous Vision Hunt Decree, but now perhaps would be a good time to expand your horizons.

Especially when your beloved Ajax was there with you.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #fatui x reader #fatui harbingers x reader #fatui harbingers #scaramouche fluff #childe fluff #scaramouche headcanons #childe genshin x reader #childe genshin impact #wanderer fluff

[builtbybrokenbells]

The Green-Eyed Monster

After a particularly shitty day, refuge in alcohol seems like the best option to help Jake recover from his poor mood. Y/n, his long time girlfriend joins him and his bandmates at the bar with high hopes to salvage the night. Jealousy, which had never been in Jake’s vocabulary, makes its first groundbreaking presence and laughs at its own disastrous effects.

Pairing: jake kiszka x f!reader

Word count: 17k (oops 🤭)

Warnings: SMUT 18+ (actual filth), unprotected sex (wrap it), borderline hate-fucking, rough sex, oral (m!receiving), oral (f!receiving), fingering, dom/sub, degradation, name-calling, slapping, spanking, overstimulation, forced orgasm, touch of bratty sub, biting, mutual masturbation, praise, pet-names, swearing, jealousy, possessiveness, drinking, toxic themes, angst (with a happy ending, pinky promise), arguments, probably definitely missed some, sorry!!

Here’s some filthiness with a touch of toxicity and angst because my last few posts were a bit too sweet 🥰 had to switch it up somehow. got a little carried away with this bad boy. had to cut some out cause i got too into it, so if it seems a little fast paced at the end, please keep that in mind! just couldn’t stop myself. it’s long, smutty, intense and does end well, i promise 😃 also very poorly proof-read cause i can’t sleep and decided to post this tonight instead of tomorrow, so please be nice. as always, be kind, enjoy, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes 🫶🏻

also, side note: all of the love I’ve received for Picasso has made my heart incredibly happy. I was very nervous posting it, and you guys really eased my worry. I appreciate you all dearly, your kindness makes me want to keep writing ♥️

~

Jake was in a terrible mood, and there was no doubt about that. Perhaps in the beginning, the idea of a lighthearted night at the bar was intriguing; something to take his mind off his mistakes in the studio earlier that morning, and hopefully to make up for his and Josh’s incessant bickering. It didn’t take long for that idea to turn sour in his mind, too. By the time you both realized it wasn’t going to brighten his spirits, you were already clad in a miniskirt and low cut body suit, hanging over the bar-top to tip the bartender. He thought it best to keep his mood to himself and just try to enjoy the sight of you all dressed up. It worked for a while; the tension remained minimal due to his hand permanently anchored to your hip, reminding him of all he had to be grateful for.

Once he’d gotten a few drinks into him, the familiar smile you loved so much started to grace his lips. The tension in his shoulders melted slightly, leaving him lax against the back of the dirty bar booth. His protective grip around your waist had turned into a loose hang over your shoulders, gently guiding you into his side with a loving undertone. Every so often, he even managed a laugh at his brothers antics, leaving you to believe the night may still be saved. But, only to your trained eye, you could still notice the cloud of irascible energy in his eyes.

You were quite certain that when he’d arrived back to your shared home earlier that day, the bedroom would never recover from the shock of the pornographic scene. You’d been able to pick up on his frustration through limited texts, only to have the speculation solidified when you finally caught sight of the expression on his face as he walked through the front door. When it never came, an uneasiness settled in your stomach. Jake’s favourite method of stress-relief was fucking you, which was always quite fine by you. Knowing that he still had all of the pent up anger left you conscious of the fact the night was teetering on a thin line; if it went well, no harm nor foul. If not, you were going to have to plan ahead for a rest and recovery period.

You were more than shocked when your long-term boyfriend pitched the idea of joining his brothers at the bar. In his ill-temper, he usually turned into a bit of a recluse. But, you thought it best to go along with the idea. If he thought it would cheer him up, you were happy to oblige, and never complained about seeing his band mates. They’d turned into the best of friends over the years, and they were your favourite company to keep aside from Jake. You opted to believe it couldn’t be the worst idea in the world. So that’s where you ended up: sitting in a bar booth with Jake wrapped around you and laughing alongside the other three boys.

They’d picked a small bar that you all frequented. It had low traffic and strong drinks to keep spirits high. There were dart boards, pool tables, complimentary table peanuts and some slot machines if you ever decided to try your luck. They kept a steady stream of dad rock flowing through the sound system when the karaoke wasn’t open to the public, and the bartenders had grown into acquaintances over the months of regular visits. If you were to go to any bar, this was the perfect one to choose. You all had yet to have a bad experience, aside from an occasional wandering hand from a too-drunk regular, or a drunken snide comment that was easily brushed off. The night was destined to be good, assuming Jake was kept in good spirits.

You picked up a shelled peanut, cracking the soft exterior with your thumb. You took one half of the shell and placed it on your napkin, and took the other one and tossed it across the booth. It hit Sam in the side of the head, as he was turned to speak to Danny who was beside him. He whipped his head towards you, the soft thud of the impact catching his attention. He immediately knew the culprit, as you’d been doing it intermittently the entire time you’d been there. You gave him a sweet smile, one filled with innocence, as if to say you would never do such a thing. His accusatory stare made it difficult to hold back laughter. He picked up the shell, which had fallen anticlimactically to the table, and tossed it back in your direction. It bounced off your chin and dropped down into your shirt, causing an eye roll from you. Sam pointed a finger at you, a silent warning not to do it again. You picked it from your cleavage and placed it with the rest of the waste atop the napkin. You vowed to leave him alone, just long enough for him to forget about it, then strike again.

Josh, who was caught in conversation with his twin brother, suddenly smacked his palms against the tabletop, catching you by surprise and making you jump. You turned your attention to him, eager to know what the disturbance was about. “Drinks!” He announced. “One for you, brother dearest?” He asked Jake. He gave him a nod. Josh’s eyes trailed to your glass, noticing the liquid threatening the end and muddled with melted ice. “And for you, pretty lady?” He asked, flashing a smile. Nobody else noticed, but Jake’s eye gave a small twitch, and his jaw clenched at the term of endearment.

“Another Mojito, please.” You grinned, not willing to pass up an offer of a free drink. He had no worries buying them for you. You and Josh had been playing the same game for half a decade; he’d do something nice for you, and you’d hit him back with something even better the next time. The timeless battle had begun after you both had realized arguments of payments and repayments were getting you nowhere. Jake had found it endearing, never a worry in his mind about anything non-platonic. He trusted you with his life, as he did with Josh. He was more than happy that you were so close with his brothers, and would be the first to speak up if he were uncomfortable. But, the war had gone to extremes by times, ranging from signed albums from big music names they’ve met, to rarity collectors editions of his absolute favourite films. If the tally was still running, the amount of money and thought you’d put into each other would be unfathomable.

You looked over to your boyfriend, picking up on the sullen attitude once more. He caught your eye and you gave him an inquisitive look, but he just shook his head. You thought it best not to push him, instead leaning over to place a kiss on his cheek. Before you pulled away, he turned and gave you a real kiss, holding you there for a moment. When he pulled back, he gave you a small smile. You felt your nerves fizzle away, finding comfort in the small gesture. He was really good with always making sure you knew he wasn’t mad at you while he was generally upset. It was a small, constant reassurance that helped guide you through his occasional short temper.

When Josh returned, he placed everyone’s respective drink in front of them. “Thanks, darlin’.” You smiled, stirring the drink with your straw. You took a sip, a hum of gratitude immediately sounding from you. Mindless chatter ensued for a few moments, nothing of importance being spoken into existence. Then, the music over the speakers started to get louder and the lights were dimmed. The trashy coloured lights surrounding the dance floor flicked on, letting everyone know the time had hit double digits. A familiar note sounded, causing you to perk up instantly. Josh caught your eye, raising his eyebrow and nodding to the open dance area.

Without a second thought, you jumped up, reaching your hand out to him. It was a simple action, one that you’d done thousands of times over the years of you and Jake dating, and it had never been an issue. Jake was not a dancer, and you were sure he never would be. You theorized he may even try to skip out on your first dance at your wedding. Josh, on the other hand, was always happy to pick up the slack in that department.

You were a lighthearted spirit, one who loved fun and didn’t care about wandering eyes or judgment, not caring if your dancing or singing was making a fool of you. It was something that drew Jake to you in the first place, and he loved watching the sparkle in your eye as you lived your life to the fullest. He was usually happy that someone was always willing to dance with you; it ensured you were safe and it gave you someone to share a memory with. He was usually quite encouraging of Josh’s antics, especially because it meant the spotlight was off of him and he wouldn’t have to join you on the dance floor. He would never stop you from enjoying yourself, but certain things, as you’d come to understand, were just not Jake-esque.

That night, the sight of you so close with his brother, singing the song back to each other and him twirling you around, set him on fire. He wasn’t sure why. Perhaps it was Josh’s unwavering pet names for you, or the way he always looked at you like he was head over heels for you, or the constant comments of Josh telling him how lucky he was. Or, how it looked like Josh was adding to your light, when in turn, sometimes Jake felt like he dimmed it. Especially on nights like that one, in particular, when he was perpetually angry and wasn’t sure how to shake it off. Or, maybe Jake was still pissed off at Josh’s critique and jabs at the studio when Jake was struggling to play his solos. Whatever it was, for the first time in his life, he was jealous of you and Josh. If looks could kill, his twin brother would have been on the floor.

“You okay?” Sam asked, picking up on Jake’s glare in the direction of the dance floor. His jaw was hard-set, knuckles white from the grip on his glass. Jake turned to face his younger brother, breaking out of the trance he’d found himself stuck in.

“Yeah.” Was all he replied, taking a long drink from his cup.

“It’s just Josh and y/n, they’ve always been like that. You’ve got nothing to worry about, brother.” Sam tried to ease the tension.

“Have they, though?” Jake snipped back, almost immediately. “Like that?” Sam and Danny looked towards you both, studying your actions for a moment. Eventually, they shrugged and gave a nod.

“Yeah.” Sam said, not finding anything out of the ordinary. “Come on, man. Josh would never do that to you, and neither would she. Y/n’s been head over heels for you since the day you met her.” Jake sent a look of warning to his sibling, silently telling him to stop trying to make the situation better. Jake knocked back the last of his drink, letting the bottom of the glass fall back on the table with a thud. Without another word, he stood and went to the bar.

As he waited for the bartender to fix his next drink, he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander back over to you. He expected you both to filter back to the booth when the song ended, but the next tune caught your attention, too. Josh had his hand on your hip, and yours was loosely hung around his neck. You were close to him, but not provocatively close. Still, to Jake, it was more than enough to get his blood boiling. You were laughing at him singing the lyrics to you, swaying your hips in time to the beat. Even in his jealousy, he couldn’t help but admire your beauty. The wrinkles forming in the corner of your eyes, the radiant grin, the way your hair cascaded down and framed your face. He thought you were breathtaking, and for once, he was envious he wasn’t up dancing with you, instead.

He hadn’t realized the song had ended until you presented yourself in front of him, breathless and buzzing with joy. He felt himself soften slightly when you wrapped your arm around his midsection and leaned into him. “Hi, handsome.” He could tell you were tipsy; he could hear it in your words. He let his hand fall from his drink, bringing it to your face and running his thumb over your cheek. The anger seemed to melt away as soon as you touched him, and he was fully engrossed in your presence. The thought of you dancing with Josh became a distant memory to him as soon as you stood on your tip-toes and placed a kiss on his lips. “What’s wrong?” You whispered, concern thick in your voice. He looked down at your face, not knowing exactly how to answer.

“I… I’m okay.” He assured you, leaning down for another kiss. He realized he may have been a bit irrational, especially now that you were with him, showing him ten times more affection than you were with his brother.

“You can talk to me, honey.” You pried just a little, hoping he might open up. He snaked his free hand around your waist, letting it rest dangerously low on your back.

“Think I just needed a kiss.” He brushed your concern off, but you could still sense the indifference in his voice.

“Whatever you say.” You hummed, turning towards the bar. He kept his hand on your lower back, but turned with you. He grabbed his drink and sipped at it while you caught the bartenders attention. He rushed over, giving you a smile.

“Mojito?” He asked. You nodded enthusiastically, happy he remembered your order. He grabbed all of the ingredients, making small talk with you while he made your drink. “You’ve got some good dance moves.” He complimented. You let out a small laugh.

“Thanks, the really good ones only come out when I’m drinking.” You joked.

“We’ll have to keep them coming your way, then.” He said, placing the new cup in front of you. “There you go, beautiful.” The fire that had died down in Jake reignited as if the bartender had poured a gallon of gasoline on it. You noticed his grip on you tightened, and when you looked up you saw the tension of the muscles in his jaw. Jake grabbed his wallet and pulled out a bill. He threw it on the counter and guided you away before you could respond. You looked up at him, noticing the vibration of anger in his hands.

“Jake, what is going on with you?” You only let him lead you away so far before planting your feet on the ground, forcing him to stop with you. He turned his head towards you, eyes filled with an emotion you had never really seen from him before.

“Me?” He snapped. You recoiled at the harshness of his voice. You could see him soften a bit, but he was still ablaze with whatever he was feeling. “You’re all over Josh up there, and then you flirt with the bartender in front of me and I’m what? Just supposed to sit there and watch?”

“What?” You were certain you couldn’t have given him a look more bewildered than the one you were giving him, then. “Did me dancing with Josh bother you?” He didn’t respond, but his eyes did dart away from you. “Jake, I just… we always dance together. I didn’t really think… I’m sorry.”

“Fuck, no, y/n. I’m sorry.” He sighed, rubbing his face with his hand and pushing his hair back. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I know it’s not like that. I’m just in a shitty mood, and I shouldn’t take it out on you.”

“We can go home, baby.” You offered, making sure he knew you were okay with that, too.

“No, you’re having a good time. I just need to loosen up a bit, I guess.” He let out a small chuckle, one that was barely noticeable.

“I’d have just as good of a time at home, alone, with you,” you leaned up to his head, lips inches away from his ear “in bed, naked.” His arm around you tightened, pulling you into him slightly.

“Careful,” he warned. You placed a kiss to the sensitive area just below his ear, lingering there for a moment.

“Just so you know, the bartender could only have me in his dreams.” You whispered before you pulled away. “I go home to you, remember?” His lips upturned into a smug smile.

“Get over there and keep drinking,” he ordered “before I have to take you to the bathroom.” The look in his eye led you to believe he wasn’t joking. You felt a blush creep up to your cheeks, taken off guard by the bluntness of the statement. He gave you a wink, subtle enough to go unnoticed, but obvious enough to send a rush of arousal straight to your core. “Don’t get too drunk, though. I’ve got a long night planned for you.” He promised, placing a delicate kiss to the top of your head, as if the words he said weren’t laced with filth.

You joined his brothers back at the booth, both of you sliding in as if nothing happened. Jake resumed his earlier position, slinging an arm around your shoulder. His whole aura was much lighter than it was a few moments before. As the boys divulged into conversation, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander to your interaction with Jake. He wasn’t a jealous person; in fact, you couldn’t recall a time off the top of your head where he had been. You’d been dating him for just over five years, knowing him better than anyone else. He could be slightly possessive at times, and even that was rare, but he was never outright jealous. Above all else, he was protective of you. He was always quite comfortable with the fact that you were his, and nobody stood a chance. At the same time, you’d never given him a reason to believe otherwise, because there was none. You were hopelessly in love with Jake, and always had been. To you, no other boy existed in that sense. He was everything you needed, and beyond that. Still, the idea of him radiating with jealousy sparked something inside of you. It was new, intense, and admittedly, very hot.

You shook the thought away, realizing it was not the best time to be thinking about how attractive you thought he was. You were broken from your thoughts when the volume at the table heightened. You looked up to see Sam and Danny locked in an arm-wrestling position. Josh had his hand on his brothers shoulder, encouraging him, while Jake was leaned in to the table slightly, cheering Danny on. You couldn’t help the laughs that you let out, finding the whole scene boyish and amusing. After a few moments of struggle, Danny took the win and pinned Sam’s arm down to the table. Jake let out a triumphant noise, removing his arm from your shoulder to reach across the table and giving Danny a congratulatory high-five.

“Pay up.” he said to Josh, now holding out his hand to his twin. Josh rolled his eyes, but fished his wallet out of his pocket and grabbed a twenty, sliding it across the table. Jake grabbed it, a smug smirk on his lips, and put it in his own. The betting war between the brothers was uncontrollable. They loved to put money on the stupidest of things, and when there was nothing pre-existing to bet on, they made something up. It was never about the dollar amount, more so just bragging rights.

Jake rested against the booth again, the satisfaction of winning giving him some momentary cockiness. Instead of returning his arm around you, he let his hand rest on your thigh under the table. You did your best to keep your expression the same, trying not to focus on the warmth of his palm on your exposed skin. His fingers drifted under your skirt, slowly making their way between your legs. He let his hand rest stop there for a moment, not wanting to push you too much. “So, y/n,” Josh started, catching you off guard. You looked up to meet his eyes. “I think that pool table is calling our name.”

“Rematch from last time?” You joked, raising an eyebrow.

“Redemption is a better word.” He corrected.

“And if I beat you again?”

“You won’t.” He dismissed you, not even considering the possibility. “But, if on some off chance you do, dinner is on me the next time we go out.”

“You said that last time.” You teased. “No originality.” You let out a small tsk. He feigned a look of offence. The conversation was allowing you to take your mind off Jake’s wandering hand.

“Fine, what’s your idea?” He conceded.

“I don’t have a better one, I just like making fun of you.” You shrugged. “Anyone else care to join?” You asked the rest of the table. There was a mutter of agreements and nods. Josh slid out of his seat first, followed by Sam and Danny. Jake was hesitant to move his hand from your leg, holding you there for a moment. You turned your head to look at him, giving him an inquisitive look.

“Better not keep him waiting.” Jake murmured, looking over your face. Your breath caught in your throat as he moved his hand up a little further, fingers inches away from your underwear. “What’s wrong?” He asked, a small smirk playing on his lips.

“Behave yourself, Jacob.” You said, your lips upturned into a smile, too.

“Mhm, careful.” He gave the same warning as earlier. You knew very well that in every sense, he was always going to be in charge when it came to anything bedroom related. Still, it always proved fun to push his buttons. He pulled his hand away, ushering you out of the booth. As you stood, he delivered a quick smack to your ass. You let out a gasp, quickly looking around to see if anyone noticed. When you found you were in the clear, you gave him a glare over your shoulder. “Love you.” He said, smiling in response to your reaction.

Instead of answering, you began to walk away. He made a mental note, ensuring he would get you to say it, later. He followed you as you made your way to the pool table, where you both noticed that your company had picked up some extras. There were three new faces, two girls and a boy. “Ah, thanks for finally deciding to join us!” Sam bellowed as you walked up beside him. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you into his side, in a very annoying younger brother type of way. You rolled your eyes, attempting to wiggle your way out of his grip.

“Who’s your new friends, Sammy? Had to find some people who don’t know enough about you to make fun of you, yet?” He let you go with a dramatic, but light, push.

“Get out of my face,” he said, a smirk on his lips.

“You love me.” You nudged him with your elbow.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Your eyes turned towards the new faces, taking in the sight. Both girls looked quite similar, and the guy was nothing like the boys you’d come to the bar with. He was tall, had short, blonde hair and bright eyes. “I don’t know their names. Josh started talking to them.” Sam shrugged.

“Figures,” you laughed, knowing all too well how much of a social butterfly he could be. Jake was standing behind you and Sam, opting to stay out of the conversation. Eventually, when Josh caught sight of you, he waved you over. You joined him, allowing him to introduce you to his new friends. The girls were friendly enough, but didn’t particularly stick out as memorable in your mind. The guy was nice, too, but his wandering eyes were very noticeable and very uncomfortable. “Nice to meet you all.” You addressed them all together.

“So, is this your girlfriend?” The guy asked Josh, which produced a booming laugh from both of you. Jake, on the other hand, did not find the question very funny. And he found Josh’s answer even less tasteful.

“A man can dream,” Josh sighed, humour clearly laced in his tone. You smacked his arm, chuckling at the thought. “Unfortunately, just my best friend, my confidante, my partner in crime,” he paused, looking over to you. “Soulmate?”

“Too far,” you warned, but couldn’t help the smile that broke on your face. You knew he was drunk, just by the formulation of his words. The statement itself was nothing out of the ordinary; Josh loved teasing Jake, although he never really managed to bother him with it. That night, though, was an entirely different story. Every word that Josh spoke seemed to piss him off even more.

“So you’re on the market then?” The unfamiliar boy asked. Your eyes widened, shocked at the bluntness of his question. That seemed to be Jake’s breaking point, as he pushed through Danny and Sam to join the conversation. His arm snaked around your waist in an instant, the familiar feeling immediately comforting you.

“Absolutely not.” His tone was firm, but not threatening. When you looked up to see his face, you were certain that if his expression were rewritten in a comic, that would be the scene where smoke was coming from his ears.

“Ah, sister-in-law was probably a good descriptor, too.” Josh said, giggling at his brother. Jake shot him a glare in response.

“Sorry, man. Promise I didn’t mean any harm.” The boy raised his hands in defence, showing Jake he wasn’t trying to start anything. Jake calmed slightly, nodding in understanding.

“I think a game of pool will certainly lighten the mood!” Josh announced, drawing the attention away from the tense moment. He grabbed a cue from the rack on the wall, breaking up the group. The boy who you couldn’t really remember the name of followed Josh, leaving you and Jake to yourselves for a moment. The two girls were chattering amongst themselves, completely uninvolved in the situation.

“Soulmates, eh?” Jake looked down at you, a look of annoyance on his face.

“Jake,” you warned, giving him a pointed look. “If this is because I’m upsetting you in some way, let’s go and talk about it. If it’s just because you’re in a bad mood, quit it.” You told him. You weren’t mad at him, but you weren’t willing to be chastised all night when the root of the issue didn’t even begin with you. He’d never once had an issue with the nature of your’s and Josh’s relationship. The surfacing of his anger on a night where he’d already been upset seemed to be an indication that he wasn’t solely upset at Josh’s words, but more in general. He wasn’t the best at processing his emotions, and tended to direct them at smaller situations to avoid dealing with the main issue.

A note of apology flashed in his eyes at your words. Before he could answer, you broke away from him to grab a cue for yourself. He watched you, feeling a fizzle of regret form in his chest. You weren’t acting any different than any other night, but for some reason he couldn’t seem to shake the feeling from himself. He was too deep into his miserable mood to break out of it, now. He was pulled from his thoughts when Sam called him over to the pool table next to the one you and Josh were playing on.

Josh had started the game, fully keeping your attention on the table rather than Jake’s sour mood. Sam and Jake had started their own game, eventually joined by Danny and one of the girls from Josh’s new posse of friends. The guy had moved on to try his luck with another group of people, clearly only at the bar in attempt to get laid. The second girl was hovering around the other part of your group, watching the game with intensity. You tried not to notice, but every so often her eyes would drift and land on Jake. You shook off the distraction, zoning back in on your own game. You lined up your cue with the cue ball, and shot at a solid ball. It rolled in flawlessly, and you moved on to the next.

“Cheater,” Josh grumbled as he watched your next ball sink, too.

“Don’t hate the player, hate the game.” You shrugged.

“Could never hate you, mama. Just strongly dislike you.” He gave you a cheeky smile. You gave him a scoff of disbelief, knowing for certain there was no world to exist where Josh would dislike you, or anyone, for that matter.

When your turn finished, you stepped back to observe his. As he lined up his shot, your eyes drifted over to the table next to you, finding Jake and Sam laughing at a joke one of the girls had spewed out. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to look away from Jake’s smiling face, trying not to focus on it. But, in the back of your mind, you couldn’t help but think about how that was the happiest he looked all night. As much as you wanted to be annoyed at him for questioning your loyalty, you couldn’t find it within yourself. Yet, anyway. The sight produced more sadness than anything else. You swallowed your insecurity, chalking it up to you overthinking the situation.

The night carried on, the empty glasses piling up by the pool tables, and your inhibitions greatly diminished. You and Jake had silently made the agreement to steer clear of each other in avoidance of a blowout at the bar. You stuck with Josh, bouncing from pool, to darts, and even the dance floor a few times. Jake found himself constantly engrossed in the nameless bimbo that had taken an interest in him. Somewhere between drink seven and double digits, you’d both engaged in undiscussed competition to see who could piss the other off, more. When the clock neared twelve, the karaoke section of the bar opened up. After picking up another beverage at the bar, Josh was pulling you in the direction of the stage.

He put the songs in, shutting down your inquiries and telling you it was a surprise. When you both got on stage and grabbed a mic, Jake was seething before the first note of the song played. “Seriously, Josh?” You laughed as the name of the song flashed across the screen.

“Come on! It was a good choice.” He grinned.

“You’re trying to start shit.” Still, even as you scolded him, his drunken delight was incredibly entertaining.

“He’s being an asshole,” he said, making sure his mouth was away from the mic. “I’m sure he’s trying to do the same thing with her.” His eyes floated in the direction of his twin, who now had his arm hung loosely over the other girls shoulders, similar to his hold on you earlier in the night. Red flashed in your eyes, but instead of lingering, you turned to Josh, no longer worried about the choice of music.

“Let’s give a performance of a lifetime.” Was all you replied. He smiled, happy you were on the same page. You both divulged into the song, very dramatically singing the words to ‘Don’t Go Breaking My Heart’ by Elton John.

By the end of the song, you had almost completely forgotten about Jake by the pool table. You weren’t sure if it was because of the liquor in your system, or the sheer amount of fun you were having. You were still a bit breathless by the time Josh’s second choice lit up the screen. This one, although not a duet, was probably one of the most venomous choices he could have made. Mixed between Jake’s love for Jimi Hendrix, how often Jake played it and dedicated the song to you, and the connotation of the lyrics, you were surprised Jake didn’t get up on stage and strangle Josh in retaliation. Your eyes widened, looking over at him in concern.

“He’s been mad at me all day, and he’s taking it out on you. Let him be upset, he’s being a dick.” Josh said, his words assuring you that he would take the heat for the song choice. It felt nice to know that Josh also thought Jake was acting out of character; jealousy had never been in his vocabulary, and the toxic game you found yourselves caught in was something you had never done before. You and Jake had barely had more than an argument in your years of dating. The longer it dragged on, the more painful it became. He had a short temper, but you couldn’t recall a time it had ever been pointed at you, let alone caused a spiteful interaction. As much as it was hurting your feelings, it was fuelling an anger within you that you weren’t sure even existed before that night. The liquor and the sour mood didn’t mix, and you should have known that from the beginning, but had no idea it would divulge into anything close to whatever the current situation was.

By that point, all of the boys had caught on to the tense nature. Sam and Danny were baffled that Jake was even willing to put his focus on another girl, let alone his hands. He was nothing if not loyal to you. Usually, his eyes would never even drift to another girl. Everybody was more than aware that he loved you as much as his music, if not more. They were also very aware that you and Josh were acting out of retaliation, fuelling the fire and hoping to get the last dig in and end it for good. The girl remained quite oblivious to the whole affair, just happy to be receiving some of the attention. Sam let out a long exhale as Josh began to sing you the lyrics to ‘Foxey Lady’, him and Danny certain that this was the brutal climax to the entire night. Jake was vibrating with anger, and there was no consolidation when you’d given up your hesitancy and sang it back to him. Sam and Danny shared a look, silently agreeing that they were going to have to put a stop to the situation one way or another before it got too out of hand.

Jake bargained with his temper, deciding on how to respond. Anger would be too easy, and too obvious. So instead, his course of action was the most disastrous one he could think of. Rationality was completely out the window by that point. He grabbed the girls hand, who he still hadn’t learned the name of (and he didn’t really care, quite frankly), and pulled her towards the dance floor. You didn’t notice at first, too caught up in the singing and laughter you were sharing with Josh. Everyone else did, however, and were awaiting the storm that was brewing. At the height of the song, you finally noticed that Josh had become a bit distracted from the performance. You looked to him, realizing he was staring off at the dance floor, and followed his gaze.

You cut off your singing mid-sentence, your heart plummeting to your stomach. Jake was dancing, in midst of twirling around the girl he’d been using as leverage all night. When he pulled her back in, his hand rested on her hip and he gave her a smile. It was a sickening sight for you. You slipped the mic back onto the stand, cautiously stepping off the stage, and headed straight for the door. You threw back the last of the liquid in your cup and set it on an empty table as you passed by. As the door slammed behind you, tears prickled your eyes and a lump began to form in your throat. At the sound of the door, Jake’s head turned to the stage, finally noticing your disappearance. Panic struck him, realizing he’d definitely taken it too far. He caught Josh’s eye, but wasn’t met with any type of reassurance. He’d won the battle, but at too much of a price.

He cut the dance short, not caring about any formalities, and followed hot on your trail. When he got outside, you were already on your way down the street, far clear of the parking lot. He muttered a curse under his breath, and took off in a jog after you. “Y/n!” He called, but you didn’t turn back. You kept your pace steady, hoping that you could make it home before he caught up. Your shared home wasn’t too far away from the bar, only a few minutes by foot. You thought if you could make it there before him, you could regain yourself a bit more. When he realized you weren’t going to slow down, he ran a little faster.

He managed to catch up, grabbing a hold of your hand to stop you from going any further. You tried to shake out of his grip, not willing to make any conversation with him, but he refused to let go. “What?” You finally snapped, turning to look at him. “What do you want, Jake?” He recoiled slightly, never once hearing you speak to him in that tone.

“I…” he trailed off, eyes wide and unsure of what to do.

“You what?” You asked again, tears still falling from your eyes. “Came to tell me all about your new dance partner? I can go get my shit out of the house and you can move her right in, in my place, if she’s so fantastic!”

“I don’t even know her fucking name, y/n.” Jake rolled his eyes, only fuelling your fire even more.

“That’s the point!” You yelled back, finally freeing your hand from his. “You don’t even fucking know her, and you get up and dance with her. It’s been five years and I can’t even get you to do that with me! One hand, Jacob. I can count on one hand how many times you’ve danced with me. I got tired of hearing no, so I stopped asking!”

“Jesus Christ, all of this over a fucking dance? You were practically fucking Josh all night, and I haven’t said a word about it.”

“That’s a lie, but we’ll unpack that later.” You scoffed. “It’s not about a dance, Jake. It’s about effort.”

“Effort? Like I dont give you my entire heart every day?” You opened your mouth to respond, but closed it and proceeded to turn around and walk away. You weren’t willing to have a screaming match in the middle of the street, especially while he was still mad. If there was one thing you knew about Jake, it was that while he was upset, he had very little rationality. “So you’re just going to walk away?” He snapped. You turned on your heels, giving him the dirtiest look you could muster.

“Get in the fucking house. We can talk there.” You pointed in the direction you were walking in. His eyes held the same emotion as yours, but he obliged, anyway. When you saw him start walking towards you, you turned and walked, too. The few minutes it took to get to the house were uncomfortably silent. When you reached the front porch, you unlocked the door and stepped inside. You flicked off the porch light when Jake made his way into the house, too.

You stormed to the kitchen, discarding your purse on the table and throwing your keys beside it. You did your absolute best to make it up the stairs in a stormy fashion while still wearing your heels. You didn’t have much time to gather a thought, because he was hot on your trail. “So what is it, then? If it’s not ‘just about the dancing’?” He mocked you with air quotes, hiking your temper up even more.

“The small things, Jake. Yeah, we wake up to each other every morning, and I get a kiss goodbye, but the small stuff matters. Like dancing. I love to dance, and the only time I’ve ever gotten to dance with you, I had to practically beg you. You’re with some complete stranger, and that’s what you decide to do to get under my skin? That was really low.”

“So you’re mad that I used it against you while Josh was up there singing my fucking song for you?” He took a step closer, face inches from yours. “You got plenty of dancing in with him tonight, I figured you got it all out of your system.”

“You’re missing the. whole. point.” You annunciated your words carefully. “I was up dancing with Josh because you never would! It hurt me because you won’t do that one simple thing with me, ever, even when you know how happy it makes me! And she got to have it with a snap of her god damn fingers, even if it wasn’t for the right reason. I got to watch you do something with another girl when I have to beg you to give it to me.” You sat on the bed, pulling your foot up onto your knee and messing with the strap on your heel.

“Didn’t seem like you missed me too much, tonight.” You closed your eyes, expelling a long breath to calm yourself down.

“I was only dancing with him because I couldn’t dance with you, Jake. I was only hanging out with him because all you wanted to do was argue with me.” You kept your voice steady, trying not to feed into him. “Do you think I prefer dancing with your brother? Getting asked if I’m his girlfriend, when we’ve been dating for half a decade?” You inquired, still messing with the strap of your heel. He let out a sigh, grabbing your ankle and pulling your foot up to rest on his thigh. He carefully undid the strap of your shoe and slipped it off your foot. He held his hand out, motioning for you to lift your other leg. You gave him a look of confusion in response.

“What? I’m mad at you, it doesn’t mean I don’t fucking love you.” He grumbled. “Give me your other foot!” He ordered, anger still present in his tone. You did as he said, allowing him to free you of your other shoe. When it was off and both of them were discarded in the closet, he resumed the conversation. “Certainly looked like you were enjoying yourself.” He finally replied. “With your… hmmm, what was it?” He asked, placing his fingers on his chin and pretending to ponder the answer. “Oh, yeah! Your confidant, your partner in crime, your soulmate!” He bellowed. “Who can only dream of being your boyfriend!” He let out a mocking sigh, laced with fake dreaminess.

“I don’t understand why tonight, after years of being together, Josh and I’s friendship is bothering you. You think if there was really a problem, you would have said something, oh, I don’t know, years ago?” You stood again, feeling more secure without your shoes on.

“Because you were using him to get under my skin!”

“God, you’re insufferable sometimes!” You shouted, pushing past him to go back downstairs. He was on his game, not letting the sudden movement deter him. He followed you as you walked. “You were doing the exact same thing! And in case you forgot, you were being a dick before we even got to the bar! I gave you ample opportunity to speak up, or go home, or just tell me what was bothering you, but you insisted you were fine and that you wanted to stay. Then she comes around, and all of your issues are suddenly resolved! You’re laughing and joking like you would any other day. All it took was for me to step out of your way for ten minutes.” You grumbled the last part, making your way into the kitchen. You opened the fridge, grabbing a water bottle and cracking the lid. You took a long drink before recapping it and setting it on the counter, just in case he pissed you off enough for you to throw it at him.

“If anything, it just gave you an excuse to be alone with him.” Jake hissed. “It’s not just about the dancing, or the karaoke, or the even the ‘funny’ passes. He looks at you like he’s waiting for me to fuck up, just so he can swoop in and finally have you all to himself. He practically undresses you with his eyes every time you walk in a room. Or maybe because it always seems like he makes you happier than I can. He dances with you, and sings with you, and buys you all of those gifts that he always just seems to know that you want.” You spun on your heels, facing him with a little bit softer of an expression than any of the previous.

“That’s what you’re worried about? You think he makes me happier than you do?” His eyes darted away from you for a moment, likely to avoid letting you know how he was really feeling. “Jesus Christ, Jake, are you blind?” He didn’t answer, causing a resurgence of annoyance in you.

“If I’m the only thing standing in the way of you being with him, go ahead. I’m not stopping you.” He snapped. “He shits on me all day at the studio, then I get to come home and watch him put his hands all over you, my girlfriend, and I’m the bad guy for being upset?” Your vision turned red, infuriated at the thought of him even thinking that. You took a step towards him, your nose practically touching his.

“If you’re so mad at him, why the fuck are you taking it out on me?” You questioned. “I told you, I would have been more than happy at home with you. You know why? Because I fucking love you, you idiot. I could say it a million times, and you wouldn’t care. Because obviously it’s all about Josh, and how I’ve been meticulously planning on using you to get to him for half a decade. Just waiting for the right time to strike, yeah?” You spat. “It doesn’t matter what I say, because no matter what, you’re always right, hmm?” You pushed your finger into his chest, really extenuating your point. “Nobody else in the entire world is allowed to have an opinion, because Jake knows it all! He’s got it all figured out!” He grabbed your wrist, forcing it down to your side and stopping you from prodding at his chest again. You were nose to nose, chests heaving with anger. You weren’t sure if he was going to tell you to get out, or if you were going to leave before he got the chance. You didn’t have a clue as to what was to come next, but you certainly weren’t expecting him to spin you around and push you against the island countertop. He let go of your wrist, grabbing a fistful of your hair instead. He pulled your head back gently, just so your ear was touching his lips.

“Did you like him singing that song for you?” He asked, his voice low and his breath tickling your skin. As angry as you were, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of arousal at your new found position. When you didn’t answer, his grip on your hair tightened. “Answer me.”

“Yeah.” You hissed, just for arguments sake. In reality, it was nothing compared to when Jake played it for you. Josh singing it had nothing on when Jake sang it, or hummed the lyrics to you. Josh had nothing on Jake, period, but you were too stubborn to stroke his ego.

“Yeah?” Jake questioned, his knuckles white against the hold on your hair. His hips were pressed into your ass, locking you against the counter indefinitely. “You’d rather go home with him?” He seethed. “Have him take your high heels off, wake up to him every morning?” Your heart was drumming against your chest. You weren’t willing to give in to him, but you also weren’t sure where he was going with his point. When you didn’t answer, he used his free hand to yank your skirt over your ass. His hand graced your exposed skin, the touch almost too gentle to fit with the current situation. After a moment of silence, he lifted his hand and brought it down forcefully, causing you to gasp at the contact. The ring that he adorned on his finger left a sharp sting long after the slap was delivered. “Fucking answer me.”

“N-no,” you stuttered, all of your confidence fleeing you. In place of it, there was a growing arousal between your legs and your tendency to submit to him was showing.

“That changed awfully fast.” He taunted. His hand still rested on your ass, but he’d moved it closer to your hip and held you in a firm grip, instead. You could feel his erection growing against you; the position alone was enough to get him going. “Color.” He barked.

“Green.” You said without hesitation. His fingers hooked into the side of your panties, his fist still anchored in your hair. He took a small step away from you, freeing your underwear from your body and letting them fall to your ankles.

“Since you don’t know how to make up your mind, I’ll do it for you.” He explained. You bit the inside of your lip, not daring to make a peep. “By the time I’m done with you, he won’t even be a thought in that pretty little head of yours.” He dipped his hand between your thighs, spreading them apart slightly. “The only word you’ll be able to say is my fucking name. M’gonna remind you why you come home to me.” His fingers ran through your cunt, getting a feel for the wetness that had already begun to pool. “That sound okay, angel?”

“Yes, sir.” You whispered, already knowing the rules to the game.

“Almost don’t want to let you cum. Haven’t been a very good girl for me, have you?” He hummed, spreading your arousal up to your clit. He swirled his finger around it for a moment, producing a whine from your throat. “So needy already. Pathetic.” He noted, applying a bit more pressure to his area of focus. You closed your eyes, losing yourself to the pleasure after hours of torture.

“M’sorry, sir.” You pleaded, knowing it was in your best interest to grovel for a while. “Promise I’ll be good for you from now on.”

“Come on, you expect me to forgive you that easily?” He chuckled. You didn’t respond, only let out a shaky breath when he removed his finger from your clit. “Gonna have to make it up to me, angel. You know that.” You heard him undo his belt buckle, pulling it from the loops on his pants. He set it on the counter cautiously, making you believe its use for the night was not over. He unzipped his zipper and freed himself from his pants in a swift motion. He tugged at your hair, silently telling you he wanted you to turn and face him. You did so, almost breathless at the sight of his face. His hand was still in your hair, pulling your head upwards slightly, making sure you couldn’t look away from him.

You wanted to break character so bad, to kiss him and tell him you were sorry, and that you loved him. You wanted to tell him everything you were too angry to communicate before, but you stayed silent. Instead, you gave an innocent bat of your eyelashes. He leaned down, likely feeling the same way, and pressed his lips to yours. It was sweet at first, but quickly turned needy and sloppy. You reached out for him, pulling him closer by the fabric of his shirt. You thought you would get in trouble for it, but in that moment, he allowed it. The small act satiated his need to feel wanted. You messed with the buttons on his shirt, trying to free him from it. After a few moments of struggle, you managed to slip it off his shoulders. He let go of you only for long enough to rid himself of it, and returned to his previous hold. He broke from the kiss, realizing he’d been far too accommodating for his liking. He raised his eyebrow, as if he expected you to know what he wanted. After a moment, you caught on, luckily just fast enough.

You sunk down to your knees, now eye level with his exposed cock. He still had his hand in your hair, holding it out of the way for you. You reached up, wrapping your hand around him before lowering your mouth to the tip and slowly bringing him into your mouth. You started slow, working yourself up to speed. He didn’t push you; as dominant as he was during sex, he was always hyper-aware of your comfortability. After a few moments, you started to hear a few curses fall from his lips. It gave you the encouragement to take him further, relaxing your jaw and your throat as you pushed your head down on him.

“Fuck, baby.” He sighed, unable to hold back his words anymore. You hummed against him, continuing your pace. Soon after, he tightened his fist in your hair, holding your head in place. He thrusted forward into your mouth, keeping a steady rhythm with his hips. You tried your best to keep yourself relaxed, making it easier for you to continue on. “Doing so good, sweetheart.” He groaned. The praise sent a shiver down your spine, your excitement for what was to come next was debilitating.

He sped his movements a bit more, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat with each re-entry. You felt tears from in the corner of your eyes, unsure how long you could keep up with him. But, you were more determined to please him than anything else, because it always meant you’d receive a fantastic reward. His head was thrown back in ecstasy, feeling too good to even look down at your face. As the tears rolled down your cheeks, you felt yourself gag, throat constricting against him.

His cock twitched in your mouth, bringing him back to reality for a moment. He pulled back, completely removing himself from you. “Should just cum in your mouth and leave you here like this.” He theorized, trying to attain his earlier tone of voice but failing. His chest was heaving with every breath, eyes glazed with lust. He wanted you just as bad as you wanted him, and he didn’t have the willpower to walk away from you, now. “You wouldn’t like that, would you?” He asked, his hand falling from your hair to your face, using his thumb to wipe away a few stray tears.

“No, sir.” You answered, finally regaining yourself a bit.

“I know, baby.” He sighed, realizing he could likely get off just by watching you looking at him that way. “Couldn’t do that to you. You know that.” You nodded, grateful he drew that conclusion. “Stand up for me.” You did as he said, raising slowly and ensuring you had your balance, not wanting to topple over. He brought you into a kiss, hands pulling at your shirt. If he knew you didn’t care, he would have ripped it off of you. He managed to free it from your upper half, pulling out of the kiss to bring it over your head. “No bra?” He inquired, fingers trailing over your now exposed torso. He brought his thumb to your hardened nipple, running the pad over it before pinching it between his fingers. You let out a gasp at the suddenness of his actions. “Such a little whore.” He quickly took his hand and swiped away any items littering the island. Your eyes widened at the action, watching as papers and books tumbled to the floor. He didn’t react, only placed his palms just below your ass, lifting you up onto the counter.

The cold countertop took you as a shock, causing you to tense for a moment. “Only for you.” You finally replied, watching him as he anchored your skirt above your hips.

“Didn’t seem that way tonight.” He muttered, forcefully shoving your legs apart. He took a step back for a minute, admiring the obscene display he’d left you in. You rolled your eyes.

“Jake-“ he cut you off with his eyes, his glare louder than any words he could speak.

“Kind of humiliating, isn’t it? When everybody at the bar thinks Josh gets to take you home, thinks he gets to see you like this?” He asked, not advancing any closer to you. You didn’t answer, just watched him. “How do you think that makes me feel? Watching you run around like a whore with my brother, begging him for attention?” Your face flushed at his words, embarrassed at the degradation.

“M’sorry, Jake.” You mumbled, not daring to move, in hopes of keeping him in good spirits.

“Are you? Or are you just saying it to get what you want?” He pried.

“I mean it.” You finally looked up to meet his eyes. He barely acknowledged your words before speaking again.

“Because you’re mine. You do know that, right?” You gave him a nod. “Nobody else gets to see you like this, ever. Nobody else gets to see how pretty you look when you’re desperate to be fucked.” He gave a small smirk, grabbing one of the chairs and pulling it over to him. He positioned it directly in front of you, taking a seat on it. You felt a sinking feeling in your stomach, having an idea about what he was planning. He leaned against the back of it, never letting his eyes leave you. “You know that, right?” He pressed.

“Yes, sir.” You affirmed.

“Show me, then.”

“W-what?” You stuttered, wanting clarification.

“Touch yourself. M’gonna watch. You’re going to show me all of the parts of you only I get to see.” He ordered. You didn’t move right away, wondering if he was serious. “Do you have a problem with that?” His tone was condescending and his gaze was burning into you.

“N-no, sir.” You shook your head.

“Good.” He raised his palm to his face, spitting on it. He lowered his hand to his cock, stroking himself as he waited for you to start. “I don’t have all day, angel.” He stated, almost sounding bored. You broke out of your shock, bracing one hand behind you to hold yourself up and lowering your other hand to your heat. You gathered your arousal, slowly running your fingers through your cunt, really giving him a show. You saw his jaw clench as he drew in a long breath, silently telling you he approved of your actions. “If you’re gonna act like a whore, you’re gonna get treated like one.” He explained, eyes laser focused on your fingers. “You love the attention so much, so I’ll give it to you. But you’ve gotta work for it, and you better not cum unless I say you can.”

“Yes, sir.” You let your fingers trail up to your clit, rubbing small circles. Your breath hitched in your throat, pleasure stemming from the sensation, but also from the sight of him touching himself. You had no idea how he could ever doubt your love for him, because you were hopelessly and utterly infatuated with him. Every movement, or word, or expression always made your heart flutter. He was perfect, and nobody in the world could ever compare to him. You applied a bit more pressure, letting your head fall back at the feeling. A quiet moan escaped your lips, hitting him with force. He closed his eyes, trying to stop himself from getting up and fucking you right then and there.

You lifted your hand that was supporting you and leaned back on your elbow, instead, giving him a better view. You brought your hand to your breast, the pad of your thumb drifting over your nipple while you touched yourself at the same time. You really wanted to give him a show, part of it being because it was a show of an apology, and the other part being quite selfish. You knew that the faster you gave him what he wanted, the more likely he was to get you off. Your eyes drifted back to him, settling on his face and soaking up every bit of his expression. He had a scowl, and his jaw was hard set. His eyes were almost feral looking, and he was watching you intently. His hand was wrapped around himself, slowly but steadily moving. It was just enough to get a bit of relief. You could tell he wanted to save his stamina for when he finally decided to fuck you.

“Tell me what you’re thinking about.” He ordered.

“You, Jake.” You sighed, another groan escaping your mouth. His breath caught in his throat at the sound of you saying his name like that.

“Mhm,” he made a noise of confirmation “You better be.”

“I am,” you promised, catching his gaze. “Only you.” Your steady pace mixed with you being incredibly turned on was causing a knot to form in the pit of your stomach. He knew you well enough to pick up on it by your expression alone.

“Don’t.” He warned. You gave him a pleading look, hoping he’d have a bit of mercy on you. In response, he only shook his head. You let out a whine, slowing your movements to hold on a little longer. You felt the pressure ease, relief crossing your face. “So you can listen,” he noted. “Good job, baby.” The praise was heavenly, washing over you with a warm embrace. You knew he couldn’t keep up with the current situation for much longer; he was eager to get his hands on you again. He didn’t have to say it aloud for you to know that. You took a break from your clit, slipping your hand down a bit further.

You slipped your middle and ring finger inside you, making sure to keep your eyes on him, wanting to see his reaction. You gave him an innocent smile, setting him on fire. You slowly pumped the digit into yourself, clamping down on your bottom lip with your teeth and letting out a sigh of pleasure. You couldn’t keep your eyes on him for very long, equating it to torture in your mind. You only had to work at yourself for a moment, riling him up faster by the second. “God, I wish it was you touching me, instead, Jake.” You whined, eyelids fluttering closed for a second.

It was almost like you flipped a switch; suddenly, the sultry looks and lust-filled noises drove him over the edge. He stood, almost knocking the chair over as he did so, and advanced towards you. His hand found the back of your neck, pulling you up to meet his lips. There was no gentle nature to be found, just volatile desire that you couldn’t quite wrap your head around. Once he’d fulfilled his need to kiss you, both of his hands grabbed you by the hips and roughly brought you to the edge of the island. He grabbed your wrist, abruptly moving your hand to your side. He replaced it with his own, fingers gathering your arousal and pushing inside you. He let his thumb slide up to your bundle of nerves, brushing it over the sensitive area every time he pumped his fingers into you. You were over the moon at the new found contact, although abrupt. You were trying to wrap your head around the rapid change while welcoming it at the same time.

“F-fuck, Jake.” You moaned, letting the weight of your head fall back into his hand.

“That’s better, isn’t it?” He whispered, trying to cover his own tone of neediness. He didn’t need a verbal answer to his question; your expression was more than enough. As much as he was dominant, he was also a giver. Knowing he was making you feel good was more than enough to satisfy him. Watching you was great, but it was nothing compared to him being the reason behind your pleasure. His fingers curled upwards ever so slightly, hitting that spot inside you he knew all too well. “How fast can you cum for me, angel?”

“I-i don’t..” you trailed off, only focused on the feeling of his hands working magic on you.

“You don’t what?” He asked. You could hear the smirk in his voice without even looking at him. “Make it quick, before I change my mind.” He leaned down, making you lean back, too. He pulled one of your nipples into his mouth, gently grazing his teeth over it. You hated to admit that he already had you teetering on the edge. After years of practice, he knew you well enough to know exactly what to do. An expert of sorts, if you had to label it. You reached a hand out, grabbing on to his bicep for support while your other one was anchored on the countertop. You had already pushed yourself to the edge once, and it wasn’t hard for him to get you back there.

“Jake, m’gonna cum.” You announced. His pace didn’t change, only encouraging you further. It was embarrassing at how fast he could bring you to an orgasm.

“That’s it, baby. Come on.” His voice was low, only audible due to how close he was to you. He said it like he needed it, too. It only took the small push from him to send you into your first orgasm. Your legs were shaking, your arm barely holding you up. You barely managed his name through the mess of vulgar noises that came from your mouth. Instead of coaxing you through your orgasm, his movements never tapered. By the time you were coming down from the high, the overstimulation had already started to take over.

“Jake!” You gasped, unable to free yourself from his grip.

“You’re fine.” He said, a hint of venom still in his tone. Your eyes were screwed shut, the unpleasant feeling starting to drive you insane. He noticed the look of discomfort on your face, questioning himself for a moment. “Color.” He whispered, the act completely out the window. His thumb was still working over your clit, just with less pressure.

“Green.” You hissed, knowing deep down that you could handle it. You knew the reward after was worth the moment of discomfort. He wasn’t sure if he believed you, so he gave you another chance to speak up. “Green.” You said again, noticing he was holding back a bit. At the assurance, he continued working at you. The feeling was intense, but you coached yourself through it, and eventually, the knot in your belly tightened once more, although not fully covering the uncomfortable sensation the movements were producing. When your next orgasm tore through you, it was powerful enough to make you lose the strength in your arms. If not for Jake holding you up, you would have fallen backwards. When you relaxed against him, he slowly withdrew his hand from you. Your chest was heaving, sweat glistening on you, and your face was flushed. He took in the sight, letting the picture burn a memory in his brain.

He only let you recover for a moment before ridding himself of his pants completely and sinking to his knees. You let out a groan, barely back to earth from his previous actions. His eyes looked up to you, wordlessly checking to see if you were ready to keep going. He didn’t speak again, but placed a few kisses on the inside of your thighs. Just when you relaxed into him, thinking maybe he’d gotten his fill of being an asshole, he let his teeth sink into the sensitive skin. You jumped slightly at the sudden feeling, not expecting it. He continued on, barely aware of your reaction, and sucked a few marks into you. By the time he’d worked himself up to your cunt, you had surpassed your overstimulation, and quickly became eager for him to continue on.

“You want it, don’t you?” He teased, mouth only inches away from your heat.

“Yeah,” you breathed.

“How bad?” His eyes flickered up to your face again. Your lips turned downward, almost into a frown.

“You want me to beg for you?” You questioned, not realizing how challenging your tone sounded. His eyes turned stony, eyebrows furrowing slightly.

“Thought you said you wanted me, angel?” He pulled back slightly. You felt your stomach sink, hoping you hadn’t made too much of a mistake.

“I do, Jake. I’m sorry.” You rushed out.

“Then fucking tell me how bad you want it.” His scowl had returned, his order clearly stating that he wasn’t in the mood for any argument. You realized it was less about dominance, and more about him needing to hear the words, needing to feel needed. You reached down, placing your hand on his cheek and letting your thumb run over the soft skin.

“So bad, Jake. I need you.” You whispered. Involuntarily, he leaned into the touch. You could feel his rigidness soften, almost immediately calmed by the feeling of your hand on him. “Please.” You gave him a look of desire, softening your features. “I want it so bad, I’ll do anything. Only you can make me feel this good.” That seemed to be exactly what he needed to hear. He didn’t make you work any harder for it; before you were even finished your sentence, his mouth was on you. You let your fingers tangle in his hair, holding on to him while his tongue ran through you. You let out a sigh of pleasure when he focused on your clit. His fingers sunk into your skin, holding you as if he was scared you were going to get away, sure to leave marks in the morning. He was working at you as if he starved, cautious as to not miss out on a second of the experience.

You were unable to contain any of your moans, giving him exactly what he wanted to hear from you. You’re tugged at the roots of his hair, another way of letting him know how good he was making you feel. He pulled back from you for a moment, moving his thumb in place of his tongue. “Does that feel good, baby?”

“So good, Jake.” You struggled to get the words out, too caught up in the moment.

“Don’t be shy. I wanna hear all of those pretty noises.” He ordered. He didn’t let you respond, already having his tongue take over again. He slipped his index and middle finger back inside you, adding the extra bit of stimulation for you. He was determined to fulfil his earlier promise; he wanted you so fucked out that he was the only thing you could think of. Little to his knowledge, he didn’t have to do much for that to be true. He was always at the front of your mind, wiggling his way into every thought and action. This part was just a bonus for you.

In retaliation to his statement, you decided to up your game a bit; if he wanted to hear noises, you were more than willing to give it to him. The moans and curses you let out were pornographic, sure to be heard by the neighbours if they listened hard enough.

You could tell he was enjoying himself, too, humming against you and taking in sharp breaths when a sound he particularly liked was heard.

His fingers curled upwards in just the right way, causing you to give an involuntary tug on his his hair. He only used it at motivation, ensuring to repeat the same action with each movement. His skills at guitar had paid off fantastically for you in the bedroom. “Fuck,” you groaned, feeling the familiar pressure build once more. “God, please don’t stop, Jake. Feels so good.” You whined, letting your head fall back in ecstasy. He took the praise to heart, making sure to keep his movements steady. He was focusing on keeping his hand and tongue at the same speed, wanting to allow you to get the most of the pleasure. It didn’t take much longer for you to come undone, gripping at his hair and uttering curses. He only eased up when you started to come down, taking the opportunity to get a good look at you. Your eyeliner was beginning to run, and your lipstick was smudged. Your hair was messy and your eyelids were heavy as you looked down to meet his gaze. He had to admire your beauty even in the disarray. He thought you were the most beautiful thing that ever walked the earth.

He removed his fingers, standing in an instant. He took hold of your hips again, pulling you as close to the edge of the table as he could. Your head was still spinning as he used his hand to line himself up with your entrance. He had no more willpower to wait any longer. You both let out a sigh of relief when he pushed himself inside of you, the feeling intensified by the lingering sensitivity of your last orgasm. The position was a bit awkward, making it hard for him to move, but it didn’t bother either of you very much. The intimacy was what you craved, and it was giving you just that. He brought one of his hands to your face, letting his thumb trail over your bottom lip. You parted your lips, pulling the digit into your mouth and lightly suctioning your cheeks around it. He let out a long exhale through his nose, the tail end of it sounding more like a growl produced from his chest. He slowly moved his hips, rocking into you agonizingly slow. You opted to just enjoy it while it lasted, knowing the gentle nature would be out the window soon.

He pulled his thumb from your mouth, a small pop sounding as he did so. His hand drifted towards your neck, fingers ghosting over your skin. His thrusts didn’t speed, but did get more forceful. You couldn’t help but let out a gasp as the tip of his cock brushed your cervix, sending a jolt of pleasurable pain through you. “Just like that, baby?” He asked, eyes boring into you. His fingers tightened slightly on your neck, leaving you to believe his concerned inquiry was a bit misleading. “Does that feel good?” You hooked your leg around his waist, drawing him even closer. It gave him the answer he was looking for, although nonverbal. “Such a dirty little whore.” He hummed, clearly pleased by your action. “Is this all you wanted? To get fucked?” His eyes scanned your face, the flame still dancing in his pupils. “Didn’t matter whose bed you were in, as long as there was a cock inside you?” His fingers tightened again, finally enough pressure to restrict the blood flow. “Or did want to go home with him?”

He knew you were unable to answer; he was talking to himself, and taunting you in the process. He knew the minute he took his hand away from your neck, you’d be talking back, and he wasn’t particularly fond of that idea. He leaned in, lips hovering over your ear as he fucked into you. He knew he’d have to release his hold on you soon; he may have been willing to degrade you, a few slaps or spankings, but never seriously harm you. He didn’t want you to fear he would, either. “You think he’d fuck you like this? Make you feel this good?” He whispered, breath hot and tone gravelly. He clamped down on your neck tighter once more, completely restricting any blood or airflow. He felt you let out a pointless, choked gasp, not getting anything from it. He bit down on your earlobe, one final move before he loosened his hand. You let in a long, desperate breath, filling your lungs as much as you could. You coughed, sputtering for a moment at the sudden burst of oxygen. He let his fingers gently massage the area he’d just assaulted, wanting you to know without breaking character that he was, in fact, just acting. His head was still down by your ear, scared if he looked up he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from cumming.

You were agitated from his words, feeling the bratty part of you start to surface once more. If he was so willing to talk down on you, you weren’t afraid to give it back. You hadn’t fully thought out the whole thing, only depending on your bruised feelings for clarity. “Don’t be so cocky. You call this fucking?” You challenged, voice was still raspy from his hand around your throat. He stiffened, pulling back from you as if you’d burned him.

“What did you say?” His hips stopped, too. His expression was feral, and his body tense.

“What, you can dish it out, but you can’t take it?” A smirk was playing on your lips. “If you’re not going to do it right, I can go call-“ your sentence was cut short by his palm retracting from your throat and colliding with your cheek, throwing your head to the side. It caught you completely off guard; your train of thought disappearing and his body language now anything but loving. Admittedly, he’d hit you a bit harder than intended, but he was in no state of mind to cater to you. Without so much as an utter of concern, he pulled out of you roughly grabbed your hips, yanking you off the table and onto your feet.

You didn’t have time to process the change before he spun you around. His hand found your hair and he forced your upper half down onto the countertop. He wasn’t gentle with his touch, shoving your face into the table until your cheek was squished against the wood. He took in the sight, your skirt still pushed up to your bellybutton. In a rash decision reliant on emotion, he grabbed a fistful of the bunched up fabric and gave a hard pull, busting it at the seams and ripping it from your body. He could buy you another to make up for it, he decided. Now less concerned about the sex, and more worried about your favourite skirt, you opened your mouth to protest. “Jake-“

“Shut the fuck up.” Your time for talking was over; you’d pushed him just a bit too far. He let the now torn clothing fall to the floor, grabbing his belt from beside you. He maneuvered it so it was folded in half, all whilst still holding you to the table. “You think he could do a better job?” He seethed, running the cold leather across your bare ass. When you didn’t respond, he lifted the belt and brought it down with force, causing a sharp sound and a lasting sting. “Do you really think anybody could?” His hand in your hair tightened, driving your cheek even harder into the table. He had no care for your comfortability, now. “I should just leave you here, make you get yourself off, instead, since I’m not doing it right. Would you like that?”

“N-no,” you squeaked, mentally preparing for another blow. Just as you expected, another searing sensation spread across your backside, causing you to jump.

“If you want him so bad, then go. But don’t think for a second he can give you half of what I can.” You could hear the sneer in his voice. “Do you understand me?” You weren’t sure if he wanted you to answer, or if it was rhetorical. When the belt flashed across your skin the third time, it was made clear he wanted a verbal confirmation. “I said, do you understand me?”

“Y-yes, sir.” Tears were spilling onto your cheeks, teeth grinding at the pain from the leather. But, you had pushed him, and you were more than aware of the consequences when you misbehaved.

“Don’t you ever speak to me like that again.” His tone dropped, less authority and more finality. You heard the belt fall to the floor, followed immediately by him lining himself up with you. There was no adjustment period before he pushed himself into you again, taking no mercy with the power behind his hips. You let out a yelp when he slammed into your cervix, but he was in no hurry to ask if you were okay. You had no time to recover before he repeated the same action.

His hips were moving at a brutal pace, all of the anger from the night being let out at once and building up to a dramatic climax. He was still holding your hair, never easing up on the weight of his hand holding you down. His other hand was holding your hip, keeping you in place while he fucked you. There was no ability to keep yourself quiet; the sounds falling from your lips were obscene, pleasure bordering pain creating a whole new feeling. He pulled your hips back a bit, giving more space between your legs and the edge of the table. He slipped his hand around to the front of you, fingers finding your clit with expert precision.

“How’s this? Good enough for you?” He growled. You couldn’t find the words to respond, eyes squeezed shut as all of the stimulation acted together to bring you to the brink of insanity. His finger danced over your already sensitive bundle of nerves, coaxing another orgasm out of you almost effortlessly. He was almost smiling at the noises you were making, arrogant enough to know how good he was making you feel.

“F-fuck, Jake,” you managed out, some form of confirmation that you heard his words.

“What’s wrong?” He tormented, voice wavering slightly at his rapid movements. “You asked for it, now you can’t handle it?” He showed no signs of slowing down or easing up; he was determined to prove a point, now, and he wasn’t backing down. He heard a familiar moan fall from your lips, your walls tightening against him slightly as you did so. He knew you were close, and it was only encouraging him further. Within a few seconds, you were caught up in another orgasm, all of your muscles tense and your throat coarse from crying out his name. You couldn’t allow yourself to relax as you came down, his hips nor his fingers letting up.

“Jake, please, I can’t.” You pleaded.

“You can, and you will.” He dismissed you, fully aware of the state you were in. He could see the tears staining your skin, your mascara fully running down your face. Your cheeks were red, burning with heat, and sweat glistening on your forehead. “Color.”

“Green, fuck!” You expelled, frustrated with your own unwillingness to give in. Every nerve in your body was on fire, begging you to stop, or take a break, but you were still enjoying yourself. You knew he was, too, and that was most of your motivation. He continued as if there was no question asked in the first place, never easing up on your clit, either. You were on the brink of screams, desperately trying to contain the moans ripping from your chest.

“You gonna give me another one, angel?” He asked, venom still present in his tone. You knew he wasn’t being so generous with orgasms for your sake, it was solely a personal agenda for him to prove a point. You were completely unwilling to cum for him again, but his fingers were forcing your body to betray you. He knew it, too, only allowing the cockiness to grow. “You ready to admit it, now? You want to tell me the truth?” He hissed, eyes never leaving your face. Before you could reply, the pressure in your belly peaked once more. He’d successfully forced another orgasm from you, letting the pride settle in his bones. Before you fully came down, he was already lifting your upper body off of the table so you were standing. He was aware of your lack of strength, assuring he was holding you tight enough so you wouldn’t fall over.

He pulled out of you, still supporting you with his arm, and turned you around. You were exhausted, completely at his disposal. You weren’t the least but worried, knowing he would take care of you; if you said the word, he’d stop immediately. “Arms around me.” He told you, a little gentler than his earlier orders. You obeyed, snaking your arms around his neck. His hands fell to your ass, lifting you up in one swift motion. You wrapped your legs around him, almost as if it were muscle memory. He carried you over to the wall, pressing your back into it. As much as he enjoyed the accessibility of the last position, the simplicity of doing whatever he pleased to you, he wanted to see your face. He kept one hand firm on your ass, holding you up, and guided himself back inside you with his other. The position change had given you a minute to calm down, just as he was hoping it would. He rested there for a moment, not making any further advances.

“Look at me.” He snapped. You lifted your eyes, barely keeping them open, and met his gaze. His expression was hard, but no longer malicious. He couldn’t find it in himself to stay angry with you; the sight of your face so close to his was enough to immediately soften his heart. “I want to hear you say it, angel.” He whispered, stare burning into you. “Tell me I’m the only one who can make you feel like this.”

“You are, Jake.” You breathed, unable to lie about it and risk any more punishment. “Only you can make me feel this good. Nobody could replace you.” Your voice was quiet, all of your energy completely drained. But, you were speaking from the heart, and he could tell. He leaned in, resting his forehead on yours. Slowly, he started rocking his hips into you again. The feeling was so much different, now. His movements careful, filled with love. He’d proved his point beyond intention, and he was well aware of it. All of the anger was gone, and he just wanted to be close to you, now.

“You’re mine, baby. You know that.” He hummed. “Nobody else even gets to think about you, like this.”

“M’yours, Jake. All yours.” You promised, hoping he’d lean forward just enough so you could kiss him. “I don’t want anyone else.” Your fight was gone, now, not as if there was a lot there in the first place. Your back talk seemed to hurt him a little more than intended, and all you wanted was to make up for it.

“I know, honey.” He assured you. “Me, too.” His sincerity was staggering, the softness of those two words were the most profound vulnerability he’d ever shown during sex. You felt like you were seeing right through him. “Gonna take care of you, now. Okay?” You managed a nod, filled with relief when he leaned forward to connect his mouth with yours. You tangled your fingers in the hair at the base of his head, holding him to you. You didn’t want him to pull back, savouring the loving gesture as if your life depended on it. The sensation of him fucking into you so carefully while he was kissing you was more euphoric than anything else you’d felt that night. Not often did you get slow sex with Jake, and it was just as phenomenal, if not more. Something about the emotion, the complete transparency, was unmatched.

“I love you,” you mumbled against his lips, causing his fingers to tighten on you. He pulled back slightly, just enough space between your mouths to speak.

“Fuck, y/n, say it again.” He ordered, but it sounded more like a plea.

“I love you, Jake. So much.” You groaned, losing yourself to the feeling of him inside you. You were sure there was nothing that could feel better than that.

“I love you, y/n.” He closed his eyes, jaw clenching as he rode through the blissful proclamation. You could tell he was close, and you were eager for him to get there. “God, you feel so good.” You let your hand come up to his cheek, holding his face while your thumb drifted over the soft skin. “Can you cum for me one more time?” You nodded as best you could with his forehead against yours.

“Just kiss me, please.” He didn’t need to be asked twice, his lips were on yours again in an instant. You kissed him with a hunger that could only be satisfied by him. He picked up his pace a bit, silently begging you to cum, just so he could, too. He had been holding himself back for long enough that it had started to become painful. He pulled you down on him every time he thrusted, just for a little more impact. That was enough for you; with the added pressure, he reached the spot inside you that only he could. Your legs tightened around him and your fingers grasped at him, letting him know you were there again. He pulled back, wanting the full view this time. Your head fell backwards against the wall, eyes closed in pleasure. You breathed his name between moans, finding it impossible to think of anything but him as your final orgasm washed over you.

At the sound of his name spoken so beautifully, and the sight of your blissful expression, he couldn’t help but lose himself to the feeling, too. He pulled you down on him one last time, holding you there as he spilled his release into you. He slumped over, pressing you further into the wall and letting his head rest in the crook of your neck. He was breathless, completely overpowered by euphoria. He didn’t withdraw right away, wanting to savour the moment of intimacy with you. Nothing but heavy breathing sounded through the kitchen, both of you chest to chest and feeling your heartbeats against each other. He turned his head inwards towards your neck, placing a few kisses into it. He left a few light marks, just as a final reminder of the entire night.

“You okay?” He asked, still resting his head on your shoulder.

“Yeah,” you sighed. “Are you?”

“Yeah.” He murmured. “I’m so sorry.”

“Me, too.” He finally pulled back from you, placing a kiss to your forehead.

“Bath?” He asked. You nodded, giving him a small smile. He carried you to the bathroom carefully, not pulling out of you yet in avoidance of a mess. Once you were in the bathroom, he withdrew and let you get cleaned up. He flicked on the faucet for the bathtub, letting the warm water run before closing the drain stopper. He grabbed your package of makeup wipes pulling a few out and setting it back on the counter. “C’mere.” He whispered. You turned towards him, leaning into his hand reaching for you. He gently wiped at the smudged makeup, cleaning you up as best he could. He discarded the dirty wipes in the trash and placed a kiss on your lips.

By the time he finished, the bathtub was full and more than ready for the both of you. He flipped off the faucet, helping you in first. As you settled in, he couldn’t help but notice the marks littering your thighs and ass. He felt a sinking feeling of regret, checking your face for where he’d slapped you. It was red, slightly irritated, but seemed as though it would fade away soon. There was a small welt on your cheek from where his ring sat on his finger. He got in, too, settling behind you and pulling you into him. The warm water soothed your aching muscles, allowing you to fully relax into his hold. With your back pressed against him, you were fully surrounded in comfort. You rested your head against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around you. After a moment, he lifted his hand to your cheek, fingers gently running over the inflamed area.

“I’m sorry, baby.” He said, lips turned down into a frown. “I shouldn’t have been so rough with you.”

“I’m okay.” You promised, turning your head and placing a kiss to his thumb. “Let’s just… never do that again. The sex was great, but I don’t like fighting with you. I also really didn’t like whatever we were doing at the bar… it was gross and childish.”

“I agree. No girl in the world deserve the time of day, especially when I have you to come home to. I started the whole thing. I know you and Josh would never do that to me. You guys really weren’t doing anything out of the ordinary, I was just in a shitty mood.”

“Yeah, but I knew you were upset. I shouldn’t have pushed you. I was being an asshole, and I really shouldn’t have let him sing that song. I knew it was a bad idea when I saw it come up on the screen.”

“You didn’t pick it?” He asked, fingers still caressing the spot on your face where he’d slapped you.

“No, of course not, Jake. I was mad at you, but I’d never go that far.” His stomach sank.

“I’m sorry I danced with her. I knew it would hurt you, and it was wrong. I shouldn’t have assumed you would do that, either.”

“That did hurt me, a lot.” You admitted, feeling no need to lie about it. “You’ve never really been jealous before. Where the hell did that come from?”

“I don’t know.” He was honest. “I was mad at Josh all day, and when I saw you guys being so nice to each other and dancing to those songs, especially while I was so upset…I guess it just felt like he made you shine a little brighter than I did, tonight. I feel like I dim your light, sometimes.” He mumbled the last part, almost afraid to admit it out loud. You felt your heart break at his words.

“Jake, Josh is my best friend. My brother. Of course I have fun with him, but that’s all it is. Yeah, I love him, but I’ve never once felt that kind of love for him. I’m in love with you. You don’t have to make me shine all of the time, because you complete me. You can’t always make me shine brighter, especially when you’re the one who ignited the flame in the first place.” He had one arm snaked under yours, lazily strewn across your torso just under your chest. He used that arm to pull you closer to him, still letting his fingers dance over your cheek.

“I love you.” He sighed. “I never want to do that again, either. It was so stupid. I never want to hurt you like that again.” He placed a kiss to the top of your head. “I’ll never be able to say I’m sorry enough to make up for it.”

“I’m sorry, too. If me being so close with Josh makes you feel that way, I can take a step back. You’re the most important person to me, no matter what.”

“No, baby. Never bothered me before, I guess I just felt a bit forgotten about. Got in my own head, and instead of talking to you about it, I tried to make you feel the same way. Next time, I promise I’ll talk to you. You’re my most important person, too. Seeing that look on your face when you left the bar made me realize how easy I could lose you, and I never want that to happen.”

“Guess we learned our lesson, then, ‘cause I really don’t want to lose you, either.” You laced your fingers through his, running your thumb over the back of his hand.

“The sex was fantastic, though.” He chuckled after a moment of silence. “I hope I didn’t hurt you too bad. I got a little to caught up in the moment.”

“I’m okay,” you laughed. “Maybe a bit sore, but it was my own fault. Shouldn’t have talked back like that.”

“You were being bratty, weren’t you?” He pondered back to the earlier scene in the kitchen.

“Yeah, but I didn’t mean it. Just wanted to get under your skin.” You giggled, sinking a bit lower into the water.

“I know, beautiful. You did a good job at it, I’ll give you that.”

“Yeah, my ass knows it, too.” You grumbled. He laughed, leaning down and peppering a few kisses over your shoulders. You melted into the touch, happy to have things back to normal.

“Hey, y/n?” He asked, lips still drifting over your skin.

“Hmm?” You hummed, eyes closed in peacefulness.

“I don’t want you to stop dancing with Josh. But I do think that maybe I wouldn’t mind dancing with you, too, if that’s okay.” He whispered. A smile broke onto your lips at his words.

“That’s more than okay, Jake.” He dropped his other arm, wrapping it around you, too. He pulled you into a hug, love completely surrounding you, now. “I love you.”

“I love you, angel. God, I’ll dance with you every day for the rest of my life if it means I get to have you like this.” He sighed. “I was stupid for not wanting to, before. I can sacrifice a little embarrassment to get a smile on that pretty face of yours.” You couldn’t help but laugh again.

“Don’t have to do that to make me smile, baby. You know that. You can have me like this for the rest of your life even if you don’t dance with me.”

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t mind it. I’d do anything to make you happy.” You almost rolled your eyes at the statement. He said it as if he didn’t do that already.

“You already give me the world, Jacob. What more could you do to make me happy?”

“I’ll stop when I can give you the universe, instead of just the world.” You could hear the smile in his voice. “I’ll buy you a new skirt and take you out tomorrow night, make up for everything. Wear your best shoes, cause you won’t be able to get away from the dance floor.” A smile grew on your lips, too.

“Can’t wait.” And you meant it. Not just for the dancing, or a night out, or the promise of a replacement skirt for the one he’d destroyed. You couldn’t wait simply because you were excited to be with him. You were certain you could live the rest of your life deprived of all modern comfort, but if Jake was by your side, you’d be the happiest person to have ever lived.

#greta van fleet #danny gvf #sam gvf #danny wagner #jake gvf #jake kiszka #josh gvf #gvf #sam kiszka #gvf fic #greta van fleet angst #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet imagine #greta van fleet fanfic #greta van fleet fluff #greta van fleet smut #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka smut #jtk #jaket kiszka #josh Kiszka #gvf fanfiction #gvf smut #gvf x reader #gvf angst #gvf imagine #writing #fic #builtbybrokenbells

[netherfeildren]

FEAR OF GOD : Epilogue : Birdie

Series Masterlist ; Moodboard

Pairing: Joel Miller x OFC

Rating: Explicit 18+

A/N: Ahh my friends, here we are at the end of this now, and I just need to say that this experience has been one of the kindest and most supportive I’ve ever had. Please know, from the very bottom of my heart, that I have poured over and tucked away in my memory each and every single one of your kind and encouraging and supportive words. You all have given me something I can never repay you for other than by trying to continue to write things that you all enjoy and connect to. Thank you, thank you, thank you a million times thank you. 

Word Count: 863

Read on AO3

EPILOGUE: Birdie

Softer than a little wild bird’s wing

Are kisses that she pours upon my mouth. 

-Sara Teasdale, Sappho

As the end of summer nears and the birth draws closer, she spends more and more time in the water. The heat is blistering, and the heavy weight of their child sits low in her pelvis, a tight ache in her back making the dark pool of the nearby lake one of the few places of relief. 

He’s never far. Though she likes to fight and gnash her teeth and feign independence and rebellion, even now, when she’s more tender and vulnerable than ever. The dawn of motherhood has made her claws sprout, sharp and vicious, but she knows he enjoys them. Enjoys taking the rebellious streak pregnancy has imbued her with and taming it to his will. 

She floats on her back now, the looming shade of the trees shielding her eyes from the bright sun, and she is languorous. Mind made hazy and withdrawn and overwhelmed by the song of the birds and the lilting rustle of the trees in the soft breeze. Her hair fans out in a cloud of long tendrils made specter-like in the deep water. Like fingers reaching out, searching for him.

She knows he’s near. Watching her from the darkness between the trees. Knows that he’s followed her from their home, even after she’d forbade him to – promised that she’d be safe, that she could take care of herself.

After all, they’ve been through so much. She’s proven herself twice over and more.

She lets herself sink a little lower, only the prominence of her round belly and her eyes peeking above the surface of the water. That’s when he steps forward, like some sort of beast out of the shadows, uncomfortable with so much of her being hidden from him. She hears the rustling of his clothes and the movement of water and then he’s there. 

Little bird. 

Big hands sliding along her skin, smoother than the water, cupping her swollen breasts and then further, pressing down gently on her belly. The child gives a sharp kick, recognizing her father. He insists she’s a girl. 

“You followed me.”

“I’ll always follow you, my love,” he murmurs into her skin.

She doesn’t fight him, despite his disobedience, lets him pull her onto his already hard cock. And then she’s there, impaled and taking him deep within. The child turns restlessly, matching the staccato of her beating heart. 

“You can’t try flying away anymore, little bird. You belong to me now.” His clutch on her skin translates all the possession of his words. 

“What if I promise to bring you with me?”

A soft kiss behind her ear, the hinge of her jaw, tongue running along the column of her throat to taste the sweet water gathered there, “Only if you promise.”

“Always.”

Birdie, Birdie, my Birdie.

She lets her head loll back onto his shoulder. His skin is wet and cool and he tempers the fire in her skin while he strokes the one in her cunt. It’s a haze of slick bliss. The heat of the sun presses down on all the parts of her made swollen and ripe by him.

They float together afterwards, her back propped on his strong chest as he curves his hands in an arc over her body, the gleam of his wedding band catching in the sunlight, and she watches the wispy milk white of his seed floating up through the water, seeping out of her cunt. The very essence of him made physical, come to life 

Soon they’ll have a baby born of the two of them. A perfect piece of them both, also come to life. 

-

There is a farm near Jackson, Wyoming where a family lives. Where they are happy. Where they are always together, protected and surrounded by love. 

It took a sort of brutality others found terrifying to get there, but sometimes an ending is made all the sweeter for the ugliness that comes before.

It was like this: Joel Miller had a daughter once, a beautiful daughter, full of hope and happiness, and she was his entire life. But then she was taken by a world overwrought by monsters almost indistinguishable from their human counterparts, and so he lived in a grave for many years. But then came another little girl, also full of hope, but who, perhaps, had not known as much happiness. And yet with a potential for it so great, it pulled him forcibly out of that grave and back into the living world. 

And then there was you. You who saw him for exactly the sort of creature he was, who unraveled the spool of him until you reached his very marrow. And you stole him for yourself. Drank him down until he lived inside you. And together, you made life in a world gone to decay. 

The love of his life.

And now it is this: Joel Miller has four daughters: two by fate, one by you, and one past. Not one cherished any less than the other. And there is no more mere potential for happiness. Because now they exist only in it. Always. 

There are no monsters in the house, and no one ends up alone.

The moment lives on forever.

Fear of God Extras : Part I, Part II

Netherfeildren Masterlist

#FoG fic #joel miller #the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller/reader #joel miller/you #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel the last of us #joel miller imagine #joel miller fluff #joel miller smut #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction

[missgavi]

Hi,could you maybe do one where gavi is angry (you can decide about what)and he takes it out on reader and regrets it almost right away ?

he’d feel so guilty 

“LEAVE ME ALONE” Gavi shouts at you, slamming the door to the bedroom. 

Ever since he came home from practice you could sense he was tense and angry. You gave him some space when he first arrived at home , taking that time to prepare some light dinner but when you finally tried to talk to him about it he lashed out on you, ending in this situation. 

You were frozen in the hallway, your eyes shiny from unshed tears. you knew his anger had nothing to do with you but it still hurt to be on the receiving end of his temper. 

Making your way back into the living room, you lay on the couch and cuddle under some blankets, immediately falling asleep. 

On the other side of the bedrooms door, Gavi was cursing at himself for screaming at you. He knew he was being unfair. You had nothing to do with his mood and didn’t deserve to get shout at. Pablo also knew if he were to come out right this instant he would be given the cold shoulder so he waited 5 minutes, counting down each second until finally emerging from the bedroom. 

Walking into the livingroom, his heart breaks a little when he sees you under the fluffy blankets, you eyelids puffy and redish and you cheeks stained with a few dry tears. He felt like the biggest jerk.

Ever so gently, he scooted you over a bit so he can lay down next to you on the couch. A sigh of relief escapes him when he feels you cuddling up to him, your arms wrapping around his torso. His own arms wrapped around you figure, throwing one of your legs over his. 

Pablo leaned down and left a loving and apologetic kiss on your forehead. His plan was to go to sleep next to you but the thought of waking up without you in his arms or you waking him up angry wouldn’t give him peace so he just laid with you in his arms for about an hour. 

When you finally woke up, you were confused as to why someone was hugging you but when you finally prompted your chin up on Gavi’s chest, you were met with the boy’s soft brown eyes. 

“Hello” you mumbled, your cheeks red from sleep. 

Gavi pulled you closer in his arms, his lips planting another kiss on your cheek. “I’m so so sorry carino. I was mad from practice and took it out on you.” 

You give him a soft dopey smiling, understanding how stressful the live of a football player is and as long as he apologised and it never happen again, he was all good in your books. “I know, it’s okay” you say, looking into his eyes. 

“No, it’s not. and I promise you this will never happen again mi vida” he whispers as to not break the spell around the two of you. Your hand reaches out to caress one of his messy eyebrows, a small smile rising on both of your face. 

Pulling yourself up, you connect your lips in a loving kiss, murmuring a soft ‘i love you’ 

#miss gavi drabbles #pablo gavi #pablo gavi imagine #Pablo Gavira #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi x y/n #football #FCB #FC Barcelona #FC Barca #pg30

[gloomiebearwritings]

Fell in love for your writings!! Can I please request headcanons for Kung Lao, Rain, Shang Tsung (& anyone else of your choice) and an s/o with issues about controlling their anger? What would Kombatants do about it and how would they calm their lover down? Thank youu <3

Ooooh! Absolutely! I was excited to write for Shang Tsung!! ❤❤

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

Kung Lao

He understood anger, having acted out of his before; his mistakes having bitten him back 

His first real concern is making sure your anger doesn’t get you bitten back, not wanting you to get hurt

If anything happens, he’d be right there to remedy the situation, and remove you from it to ease the stimulation

It didn’t take him long to discover the anger issues, turning up to be the first to intervene before someone got hurt. When you did, he’d take care of the wounds, cleaning cuts and assessing bruises; all the while talking to you about any topic you love to help calm you down.

If you were comfortable with it, he’d offer to teach you some routines to give yourself structure, something to find some kind of comfort in. He’d also meditate with you if you’re able to find it comforting or soothing; if not, he’d find other methods of helping you cope. Regardless, he loves you and will help in whatever ways he can.

Rain

The anger amused him at first before it set in that you could get yourself hurt, the realization making his stomach churn

You’re too precious to him to be going off and getting hurt because of your temper; often warning you to not to do things that might spark your anger

If all else fails he’d help you focus your temper in training, encouraging you to hone the anger in on being functional over chaotic

In training he’d remind you to focus your anger onto one point, not letting it become an uncontrolled fire, telling you that even the ocean must calm at some point. When you’ve calmed, he’d bring you close to him, pressing his forehead to yours and reminding you that he loves you no matter what.

He’d find things for you to do to help prevent outbursts, whether it be artistic means, musical, or crafting- anything to help you stay focused. On days where you’re calmer he’ll remind you that you’re everything to him, and that he can’t have his everything if you’ve gone off and gotten hurt because of your temper.

Shang Tsung

He’s no stranger to anger, having seen it emerge from plenty before- yet your quick temper concerned him

You could get hurt, he knew that, but that made his concern grow as he’d watch your temper burn brighter than a fire in the dark

Sometimes he wondered if his constant calm angered you, quietly asking you at dinner time if he himself has ever brought out your temper

The last thing he wanted was to be a part of the problem, so it was a relief to find that he wasn’t. His next step was to find your triggers and help you avoid them, whether it be a certain situation, topic, or person. If it’s a person he’d have them quietly removed from his island, never to be seen again so there’d be at least one less addition to your temper.

If you need to vent, he’d gladly listen to your angry rant as he worked on whatever project, he had at the moment. It may seem like he’s disinterested, but truthfully, he simply enjoys hearing you get things off your chest; viewing your willingness to share the most intimate and angering things with him as a sign of trust.

Hanzo

He knew anger very, very intimately for so long and managed to overcome, hoping to help you do the same

Your anger struck a chord in him, reminding him of his younger years that were so full of anger

He promised you from the start that he would never judge you when you’d get angry, saying it would never help the situation

When you’d lose your temper, he’d step in and try to remedy the situation, always removing you from it if he can help you cool off. He’d remind you that you needed to stay focused, often telling you to focus on things in your surroundings to ground yourself.

If you ever got hurt from your temper, he’d be right there to clean up whatever wounds you’d gotten, gently shushing you if your anger turned to pained frustration. When he could, he’d remind you that the anger will pass and that you’d be alright, that this isn’t going to be permanent. Once you’ve finally calmed, he’d kiss your forehead and hold you close, telling you he loves you and that your anger will never change that.

#my works #mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #hanzo hasashi x reader #mk hanzo hasashi #mk scorpion #mk rain #rain x reader #shang tsung #mk shang tsung #shang tsung x reader #mk kung lao #kung lao x reader

[ohshy]

You can ignore this but do you have any tempered glass (Joe x Bull) headcanons?

A couple ye !

They're both fairly introverted people (Bull especially), so it didn't take long for them to warm up to eachother. Bull felt attracted to Joe's calm and polite personality, and Joe in turn admired Bull's serious personality and strength. Both felt like a breath of fresh air to eachother, in the WVBA where most are either rather cocky or even crazy.

They had Very different upbringings. Bull is from a rich family, whereas joe's family had to live paycheck to paycheck. It's a huge relief for joe to finally have some financial stability in his life, thanks to Bull.

Bull was. Very oblivious to his own feelings, as well as Soda whom he initally discussed them with. It took Macho one day listening in and basically going ''It's a sign, you kook.'' to make him realize his feelings. Luckily Macho hasn't told anyone about it. He has SOME standards, trust me.

Bull has to be careful he isn't too rough with Joe, but it's something they're both working on.

Both Joe and Bull get cold very easily. They always make sure to warm eachother up when they get home.

Soda is a great right hand man for Bull, like when Joe and Bull try to have little one-on-one private dates with eachother. The paparazzi, yanno.

Their favorite types of dates are where Joe cooks a big meal and Bull picks out a good romcom or historical drama. Surprisingly, Bull is actually a very sensitive soul and loves romance movies, along with Joe.

One thing Bull loves doing for Joe is sing. He's tried singing french serenades (in very broken French) to Joe, and it makes the latter melt everytime. Joe's fallen asleep to Bull's singing quite a lot as well.

Bull sleeps a lot ever since dating Joe. Guy's so exhausted from dealing with people all day (esp the press), he needs all the recharging he can get. He also just feels very safe and at peace with Joe.

Bull is one of the few people Joe feels like he can tell about his frustrations, be they about other people's tacky fashion senses, his frustration with being the lowest ranking boxer, or w/e kaiser's said to him this time.

Of course Joe has attempted to fight off the paparazzi for Bull. He has to hold Joe back whenever he tries, cause yknow. Public scandal.

The way they butt heads is mainly from different upbringings. Like i said, Bull is from a rich family n is used to solving most problems with money or gifts, whereas joe came from a poor upbringing. Typically when joe tries to talk about his feelings, bull will chime in with a gift idea, which feels like a bit of sting to joe bc it makes him feel misunderstood. Dont get me wrong, Joe loves gifts (in fact, guy has very expensive taste despite his poor upbringing), but he needs the emotional connection in his relationships too yknow? Luckily, they do communicate well with eachother, so they never fight over things like this. The last thing Bull wants to do is push the few people he's close to away. Plus Joe has quite a lot of experience in the dating department, so he's no stranger to disagreements in relationships.

Bull has recurring nightmares about his relationship leaking into the press, and sometimes even considers breaking up with joe in order to not put him through the same hell he has to go through everyday. Joe however always succesfully talks him out of it, promising he won't abandon him and that every relationship hes had has had trials and tribulations, and this is no different to him.

#-a couple- *writes an entire essay* #ANYWAYYY hope u enjoy bee :3 #punch out #glass joe #bald bull #punch out!! #tempered glass #asks

[superprincesspea]

The Arrangement

Chapter 1 - The South Walk

You want Joel to take you with him when he leaves the Sanctuary. The only problem? You’re Negan’s favourite wife and, according to Joel, a total liability. But if he wants to gain Negan’s trust, he’s going to have to make you promise- escape together or not at all.

~~~

You look forward to mornings like this. When Negan loads his men into the grey trucks and they don’t come home before supper, perhaps even the day after that. Most times he returns in such high spirits, far too tired to do anything more than talk and boy does Negan love to talk. He would have made a great politician if he wasn’t so short tempered and foul mouthed. 

Still, he’s gone now. The rumble of trucks has faded away and the entire Sanctuary seems to breathe a collective sigh of relief. 

You don’t know what the other girls do when Negan isn’t around. None of you are close enough to share that kind of information. But you suspect a couple of wives have partners outside of their arrangement with Negan. If they do, it’s better you don’t know, better to be ignorant than fake ignorance. 

So without a word, everyone scatters. Frankie hides in her room, the others disappear down the halls and you do the same. Except you aren’t looking for company. Solitude is the friend you crave and, to get it, you’re willing to face the disapproving glances of every man, woman and child in the Sanctuary.

Being a wife may afford you countless privileges but it certainly doesn’t command any popularity or respect. No, you’re a joke to them. Hurrying by with the click of outlandishly tall patent leather heels and a miniscule dress which barely covers your rear. 

Years ago, you would have loathed the person you’d become and, part of you still does, even if you understand what it means to survive. Some people do it on their feet, others on their back. Either way doesn’t matter. If it's the difference between staying alive or shambling around the world with the rest of the dead, you’d choose living every time. 

Rounding the corner, you cut through the mess room which is always empty at this time of day and make your way through the windowless corridors to the fire exit which leads onto the south walk. 

Out here, you can breathe without scrutiny but the view isn’t much. Just rows of wooden spikes buried in the ground. They remind you of BBQ skewers except they’re not impaled with the kind of meat you’d want to eat. They collect the bodies of the dead who stray too close, some still moving, some turning to dust. Beyond that, the small patch of forest is still recovering from a fire which ravaged the trees two summers ago. 

Sometimes when the breeze picks up, the stink from down below can make your eyes burn but today the air is still, the sky overcast and much too cold to be standing outside without a jacket but you’re not going back to the apartment. At least not yet. 

Walking to the railing, you brush your fingers over the rusted flecks of paint. They had been yellow once, bright and cheerful like a rubber duck or a child's raincoat but like everything else they’re losing all colour and succumbing to dull grey. Old and tarnished. You know the feeling well.

This morning you’d discovered your first grey hair and plucked it from your head, staring at it like a traitorous thing. Youth was fading and it was all you really had. All that had kept you alive. Youth and beauty. Fickle survival tools but you hadn’t expected to rely on them for so long. 

Too preoccupied in thought, you don’t notice the man idling further down the walk until he clears his throat, letting you know he’s there. 

Watching. 

Your heart jumps just as your head whips round to see who is daring to intrude your own personal bleak view. 

Tall, broad, flecks of grey creeping into his hair and beard but a man can afford such age and wisdom. Like a fine wine, full bodied and nicely matured which is exactly what he is. He’s also a stranger to your eye but even your friends are strangers in the Sanctuary. 

“I haven’t seen you before,” you break the silence which has begun to stretch between you, wondering what kind of man Negan has dragged home from one of his grey truck adventures. 

“I’ve seen you,” he replies matter of factly and, though you can feel heat beginning to blossom on your cheeks, you ignore it. Embarrassment seems like such a trivial emotion these days.

“I guess I’m pretty hard to miss,” you say, laughing softly at your own expense. 

“Just how Negan likes it?” 

His voice has an edge of disdain which you don’t ordinarily hear from the other men. Most of them have been here too long to have any fight left and the newbies tend to fall into one of two categories. Desperately grateful and willing to lick Negan’s boots or pitifully terrified and willing to lick Negan’s boots. That’s how Negan wants his men, underfoot and under control. Just like you.

Absent-mindedly, you pull down the hem of your dress but you can’t tell this stranger that you don’t own a single decent item of clothing. So you tell him your name. 

“Joel,” he replies with some uncertainty as if he’s forgotten how to say it and you can understand. Sometimes small talk feels like an ancient practice that doesn’t belong at the harsh end of the world. Other times it feels like a deliciously indulgent treat. 

Like now. With the sun daring to peek through the clouds, touching you with a warmth so comforting you can almost ignore your surroundings. Almost believe the last few years were all a vivid and terrible dream. No before or after, only now. This moment. The sun and the stranger but in the blink of an eye the warmth is gone and the Sanctuary isn’t just in full view, it's all encompassing. 

Resting your hip against the railing, you wait a little longer to see if Joel offers any information beyond his name but he doesn’t. He remains still, his eyes filled with suspicion. 

“You’re not from around here?” you guess, moving closer, letting your fingers brush away the flecks of paint until your hand settles beside his.

“Texas.”

“A cowboy?” your tone is light, flirty though you’re not really sure why, he doesn’t seem like the playful kind. Maybe he had been once but his face is hard now. 

“A carpenter,” he replies and your eyes graze his flannel shirt and waxed cotton jacket. Old and dirty, you wouldn’t be surprised if that jacket had been old and dirty the day everything started.

Letting your eyes slide down to his boots, you stifle a small laugh.

Joel is the epitome of everything you would imagine a veteran survivor should be. Rough around the edges and almost painfully stoic, not the kind of man you would have noticed in a past life but these were strange times and you were noticing him now.

He isn’t scrawny, so he knows how to find food. He isn’t afraid, so he knows how to protect himself. Most importantly, he isn’t looking at you like a piece of meat he’d like to taste and you can’t quite remember the last time a man had stared at you with so much disinterest. 

“So what brings you to this little slice of paradise?” you say, still flirty, old habits die hard and you’ve been playing this part for a long time now. 

Joel holds off his answer for a while, his dark eyes still accessing you, still uninterested. “Just passing through, looking for my brother, Tommy.”

A sharp laugh escapes your lips. “I don’t think anyone just passes through the Sanctuary,” you say and his eyes widen, surprised by your candour and maybe you’re a little surprised too.

“I can see that,” he admits and, for a moment, you think maybe you can trust this man but the moment passes without a word before his attention turns to the door.

“I should get going.”

You don’t blame him, you wouldn’t want to hang around with you either. You’re a walking red flag, Negan’s painted doll. To look at but not touch. To laugh at but not with. To talk about but not with. 

“Maybe I’ll see you here again sometime,” you say, unnerved by your sudden urge to know this stranger, to crave more than solitude. 

He stops in his tracks, turning to look at you once again, closer this time and his eyes are a shot of espresso and so impossibly sad. They remind you of the stray dog your father had rescued when you were a girl and your heart hurts with a pang of longing to nuzzle your face into fur and warmth. 

“Don’t count on it,” he says and there’s no warmth, only bitterness as you watch the door close behind him before turning back to stare at the world beyond the Sanctuary where death and freedom walk hand in hand.

Masterlist

#The Last of Us #Joel Miller #The Walking Dead #Negan #Fanfiction #TLOU #TWD #Joel Miller/Reader #Joel Miller/You #Negan/Reader #Negan/You #The Last of Us Joel #The Walking Dead Negan #Pedro Pascal #Jeffrey Dead Morgan #grumpy sunshine trope #romance #Joel Miller Fanfiction

[noodyl-blasstal]

If you’re taking prompts from that list, how about 24 for taakitz?

Thank you so much Anon, this one was fun!

“Stop bringing me tea, or I’ll fall in love with you and that’s a threat.” From this prompt list (still accepting, although cannot promise a speedy turnabout!)

___________________

Finding a flatmate to replace Lup was never going to be an easy task. Taako had known once they finally started dating that it wouldn’t be long until she moved in with Barry. The relief of no longer having to deal with their increasingly more ridiculous pining wasn’t quite eclipsed by the anxiety of upcoming change, but it was a close run thing.

By the end of the first month Lup had spent nearly every night at Barry’s place. Taako was grateful, really grateful, (they had a whole lot of missed time to make up for and he didn’t want to be sharing a wall with them while they did,) but he couldn’t afford this place alone. Lup offered to just keep paying rent, but it wasn’t fair to let her when she was barely there and her stuff had mostly all migrated.

The logical option was a friend-of-a-friend. Magnus knew someone called Carey from his gym who was looking for a place. It wasn’t the same as living with Lup, but it was nice. They chatted, he took pity on her and added actual flavour to her meal prep, and then out of nowhere she decided to confess her years-long crush to Killian. A month later she gave her notice.

Next up was Avi. Lup and Barry knew him from work. He’d barely stepped foot in the flat before he got up the courage to tell Johann he didn’t want to be just friends. Taako told him how pleased he was through gritted teeth.

Sloane came to him through Merle. He’d assured Taako that although she had a massive crush on someone it’d never work out because they were a police officer and Sloane wasn’t likely to actually date a “fed”. Taako had received the wedding invitation four months after she moved out.

After a very reasonable temper tantrum, a brief discussion about cleansing the flat’s energy because clearly Lup had left some “weird romance vibes”, and banning any of his friends from suggesting another replacement. Taako got Lup to help him write an ad, chucked it up online, and he chose Sazed… like an idiot.

The next ad was a lot more specific.

Flatmate wanted who isn’t going to set one foot in the place, get up the confidence to tell their crush they love them, and then leave within the month. If you could also not try to attempted-murder me that would be great. P.S. It’s a two bed, part furnished, £420 a month (blaze it). 

Kravitz was the only person to apply.

Hi Taako. I’m new to town and don’t know anyone here, so haven’t got any crushes to confess. I’ve also never murdered anyone before, so hopefully that helps reassure you. Your place is in a great area and I'd love to move in. I don’t smoke or have any pets, and I’m happy to pay a full month up front plus deposit.

Looking forward to hearing from you,

Kravitz.

He followed up nearly immediately with a second email.

I just realised that a murderer would probably also say that they hadn’t murdered anyone. I can send references about not being a murderer if needed. Thank you, 

Kravitz.

When he moved in, he said Taako’s changeable shifts were “good actually” because he could practice his instruments while Taako was at work “without worrying about disturbing him”. Of course it didn’t bother him if Taako came home late, he “knew Taako’s job was important”. Considerate bastard. Kravitz had also suggested the shared roommate calendar, Taako could put his shifts in so Kravitz knew when he would be out and not worry if he wasn’t home. Taako wasn’t entirely sure why he would be worrying, but Kravitz hadn’t confessed his undying love to anyone yet, so Taako could deal with a calendar. It was actually helpful because Kravitz put his shit in too. At least Taako knew when he’d have the house to himself. 

The first time Kravitz made tea must have been an accident, Taako was sure of it, he happened to walk into the flat as Kravitz was making a cup and Krav offered him one too. Taako was tired, it had been A Day, they’d been slammed and he’d barely had a moment to grab food or slug down water between orders. So yes, actually, a cup of tea sounded delightful. Kravitz was still in his fancy boy get up from his orchestra bullshit, and Taako couldn’t confirm or deny if a hot boy serving him tea in a beautifully cut suit was exactly what he needed to feel better.

It didn’t stop there though, suddenly, every night they were both in Krav had a cup of tea waiting for him when he got home. It was nice, was the thing, because it wasn’t just the tea. It was tea and a conversation. Kravitz would lean on the counter in one of his nice soft jumpers with his sleeves rolled up and his ridiculous cello-case-carrying forearms out and just pay attention to Taako. He would ask questions about Taako’s day like he actually cared. Worse, he’d remember stuff Taako had talked about before and follow up on it. Then he’d tell Taako stuff about his day and trick Taako into caring about it and asking him questions too. It was unreasonable behaviour, is what it was.

Taako couldn’t let this keep happening. It had gone from nights he was on shift to just every fucking night. Krav would come knock on his door, or, more recently, pause whatever show they were binge watching together, and ask if he wanted a brew. Wanted a brew. Taako should be bullying him for doing weird slang, not finding it charming. He should be talking up the benefits of that sweet sweet bean-juice, not getting Merle’s advice on different mint plants so he could make Kravitz a new blend for Candlenights. He definitely shouldn’t be looking forward to tea time and having weird swoopy stomach feelings when he thought about it.

He tried to say no once. He did. But Kravitz looked like a puppy he’d kicked, and something terrible twisted in his guts, so he immediately lied and said actually he’d meant to say yes ha-ha-isn’t-it-funny-when-you-misspeak. Seeing Krav’s sad face split into a grin had lit something inside him that he’d desperately been trying and failing to put out since. He’d tried skipping nights, and he’d tried remembering how great coffee was, he’d tried making the tea himself because maybe Krav’s weird spell only worked when Krav boiled it, but nothing changed. In fact, it got worse. He missed Kravitz on the nights he skipped. He’d text Krav while he was out with Merle and Magnus because he actually wanted to know how Kravitz’s day went, and what they’d played at orchestra, and if he’d nailed the bit he’d been struggling with... Maybe it wasn’t the tea? No. That was stupid. It was definitely the tea.

Taako had been glancing at the clock for a good 40 minutes, any time now there’d be a knock on his door. He didn’t want to be in his room, he wanted to be out there with Kravitz watching Antiques Roadtrip and thinking up overly complex hauntings for all of the objects the presenters bought; but he couldn’t be because Kravitz had broken him with fucking tea. If he made him a cup tonight that was it, he was going to be an absolute gonner. Taako had talked to Lup about it and she’d confirmed what he’d been worried about. Taako had a crush on Kravitz, he’d had a crush on Kravitz for a while, and if Kravtiz made him another cup of tea he wasn’t going to be able to do anything about it. But right now, he knew what was happening, he was alert, and aware, and ready. Kravitz couldn’t trick him, he was too smart for that. He could fix this. 

The best option was probably just to go get a pint of water, make a completely casual comment about how warm it was - despite the fact they lived in a flat which was consistently freezing and they both knew it - and then scuttle away. Perfect plan. No cup of tea, and no falling in love with anyone. Taako strode down the hall and into the kitchen to grab his drink, intending to stop by the lounge on the way back.

“Oh, Taako! I was just about to come and see if you wanted any tea.” Krav looked genuinely pleased to see him. What a dick. 

Kravitz filled the kettle and looked expectantly at him.

“I’m…er… I’m really hot?” Taako didn’t entirely mean it as a question, but it definitely wasn’t a statement.

“Taako, you do realise you’re wearing a turtleneck, a jumper, and a blanket cape right now? Are you sure you don’t want to take a layer off? Are you sick?” Kravitz had the absolute indecency to look worried about him, like Taako was the one being unreasonable right now.

“I’m not sick!” Taako said, more of an edge than intended in his voice.

“Okay, is something else wrong? Do you want some water instead?” Kravitz still looked concerned, and apparently now the tea thing was leaking into other beverages because the thought of Kravitz getting him a glass of water to look after him was actually really nice, which was definitely fully and completely insane. He had to stop this.

“Kravitz, Krav, Kraverino, Kravanchini, my guy, you have to stop making me tea.” There. He’d done it.

Kravitz looked at him questioningly, then grabbed the lid from the side of the sink, placed it on the kettle, and set it on the stove. “Why?” He asked, simply.

“Because I’m gonna fall in love with you.” Taako snapped. Kravitz did not look as concerned as he was supposed to look right now. Fine, Taako could spell it out. “That’s a threat. I’ll do it!” There, at least now he’d fucking stop, and Taako could go back to being all spiky edges and iron insides, no more of this having feelings lark. He didn’t want to feel all goopy inside; he didn’t want his stomach to do flips when he saw Krav’s stupid handsome face; and he didn’t want to enjoy it when their hands brushed as Kravitz handed over his mug. Taako was good out here and he didn’t need anyone fucking it up, least of all his dork of a flatmate with his shared calendars and his non-caffinated beverages. The threat of having a whole Taako as his problem should do the job nicely. Nobody wanted Taako full time - that’s why everyone kept falling in love to get away from him… or trying to murder him.

Kravitz looked him dead in the eye, grinned, fucking grinned and clicked the hob to life under the kettle. “I’ll make the buttermint you like.” 

Taako was going to fall in love with Kravitz so hard he wouldn’t know what hit him. That’d show him.

#It's definitely the tea's fault #Sometimes you just have to fall in love with someone really hard out of spite #TAZ Balance #TAZ fic #Taakitz #Noodyl Writes

[matenrou-fan]

Random hypmic characters when they have a little fight with you + how they would apologize

NB reader, slightly angst, arguing, comfort, cuddles

Samatoki, Doppo, Dice, Kuko

Samatoki

-Due to his short temper he can throw a tantrum even with you, his most precious person in the whole world

-Especially after long day, he easily get angry but also easily calm down when it's you

-He hate to see you crying or mad, and if he's the reason it's break his heart even more

-The more time passes the more chill he become, so even if you make a mistake he will not be mad, just a little grumpy

-Your fights turns into just some calm talks as you two tell each other what was wrong and what you didn't like at each other behavior, as you two cuddles

-He will try to change for you but only if you will change for him too

-Also, always ready to say sorry if he's the one who fucked up, he can even drop on one knee and take you hands, a little bit ashamed but still

-He wants to treat you right and show you that he actually loves and value you very much, even with his tantrums and hysteria, as he kiss you hand, asking for your forgiveness

Doppo

-He always so soft and caring around you, your persistence make him forget about his stupid work and life problems

-But sometimes he so angry and annoyed he will be more grumpy and pessimistic even with you, arguing and whining about everything

-But if you keep being soft and calm around him he will accidentally start relax, melting into your hug and mumbling ashamed

-Will apologize on his kneels and arms, crying and begging for your forgiveness

-He always trying to be more cheerful and positive around you, but sometimes it's so hard, he just need a little bit more support

-Will buy you flowers next day, he's a little bit ashamed of being that cheesy but still.. He wants to apologize properly, he don't want you to think that he's only use you as stress relief, he value you and your help and want you to feel his help and support too

Dice

-He's so easygoing its hard to imagine him actually arguing with you

-Despite him being a hothead, maximum that he can actually do it's be a little grumpy and annoying when he lost again, whining about how close he was to jackpot and that's next time he will be finally lucky enough

-He can throw a little tantrum when you scold him about all money that he spend again, but he will be more ashamed than actually mad

-When Gentaro or Ramuda tease him about that he's really annoyed and confused, but with you he actually start to think about his bad habit and get embarrassed

-Will apologize really quietly, looking away with some blush on his cheek

-But don't think he would actually change and stop running to casinos every day tho-

-He's airheaded and it's hard to change, but he always thankful that you are here for him, despite his addiction

-He actually loves when you scold him a little, feeling as you worrying about him and it's makes his heart flutter

-Will try to save some money to buy your something, something simple but what you really like cause Dice can be really insightful when it's about you

Kuko

-His so bratty and unruly sometimes but he's actually really serious about some life moments

-So he will scold you sometimes, arguing with you if you forget about something or make a mistake

-He don't want to look like controlling sadist, he just want you to be strong and independent, taking some thing more serious

-Of course he will not scream at you or something, just furrow his brows as he grumble a little, telling you what's wrong

-He calms down quickly thought, acting like he's still annoyed when you can clearly see that his gaze get more softer as he hugs you with sigh

-If he the one who fucked up, he will apologize with red blush on his cheeks as he try to act cool

-He will be admit his guilt, but it's a little bit embarrassing to actually say sorry, he's ashamed of his behavior and promising to change himself to be a better boyfriend, as he hold your arms tightly

-And he didn't lie - he will work hard to change his wrongs, he always wants to be a better version of himself not only for you, but for his future too

-And your support is what makes him feel more passion and strong in this way

#hypmic x reader #hypmic imagines #hypmic #doppo kannonzaka #doppo x reader #hypmic doppo #hypnosis mic doppo #hypmic samatoki #hypnosis mic samatoki #samatoki aohitsugi #samatoki x reader #hypnosis mic dice #dice arisugawa x reader #hypmic dice #dice x reader #dice arisugawa #hypmic kuko #kuko harai #hypnosis mic Kuko #Kuko x reader

[sheafrotherdon]

They’ve been apart for months with no means of communication—just a promise to meet in the city as close to Michelmas as they can, when each of their quests are done.

Yusuf reaches the inn to find he’s first to return. He exchanges coin for a room with thick walls and a soiid door, scatters his few belongings and hangs his cloak on a peg. As the sun dips, the innkeeper’s wife brings him stew and a mug of ale and he thanks her. He eats and drinks though he tastes nothing. His whole being hums with anticipation as he waits.

Two days pass. Yusuf walks the city streets for want of some other occupation, visits the smithy and the baker, stands watchful in the market square. He picks up fragments of information, useful news that will add to the store of things they might anticipate as they travel to meet with Andromache and Quynh. When his stomach rumbles he revisits the inn; when the sun sinks he returns to his room. Nicolo is still not there.

Yusuf has traveled through deserts enough to know the blistering discomfort of thirst. It’s some echo of that feeling now that haunts him—he is parched for his beloved, needs to see him as fiercely as in other times he has needed water. He sleeps restlessly despite the sweet-scented grass that fills the mattress, despite the temperate weather, despite the long hours when he has nothing to do. He yearns for Nicolo, for the cadence of his voice, for the crooked smile that means he is pleased, for the warmth of his hands and the press of his mouth. He cannot sleep, and misses being chided as a lay-abed by the man whose absence makes such a thing impossible.

The third day, and Yusuf rides beyond the city on the well-trodden road on which Nicolo might be traveling. He passes farmers’ carts and pilgrims with worn-down boots, but does not find his heart, and turns back when he realizes he must.  In the stables at the inn he rubs down his horse, feeds and waters her, murmurs thanks for her service and lets his heart beat painfully that he has no company but this.

The room is still empty, and the skies threaten rain. Yusuf closes the shutters against the chill breeze, bends to set a fire in the small, stone hearth that might yet be insufficient for his needs. He uses his flint to set the straw smoldering, nurses an uncertain flame to burn at twigs, then feeds the fire a dry, broken branch. In time, a log catches under his ministrations and Yusuf sits back on his heels, pleased by his work, and the door opens and Nicolo steps inside.

Yusuf freezes as Nicolo smiles at him. There’s affection writ across his face as clearly as if he were speaking words, and Yusuf feels his heart skip a beat then clatter, joyously, inside his chest.

“Habibi,” says Nicolo, crossing the room, and he’s sliding a hand beneath Yusuf’s elbow, pulling him up to stand. “How I have missed you.”

Their kiss is quickly desperate. Yusuf clings to Nicolo, hands fisted in his dusty cloak, holding him close, close, closer yet, and Nicolo spreads his fingers against Yusuf’s back, pressing them together until there’s barely room to breathe. It becomes painful---brilliantly so—to keep kissing, and Yusuf draws in a ragged breath. His thigh is between Nicolo’s thighs; their chests heave together. Nicolo lifts his hands and frames Yusuf’s face and tells him he loves him as he kisses his forehead, his cheek, his nose, his mouth.

“It rains,” Yusuf says, and he means not the downpour outside but the fresh water of Nicolo’s presence, the cool relief of his love in which Yusuf is submerged.

Nicolo grins, seems to parse all that Yusuf cannot say, a talent he has learned for these moments of overwhelm, and he says, “Let us eat.”

Yusuf nods, but kisses him again, whispers, “Let me drink,” and kisses him once more.

#joe x nicky #kaysanova #tog #yusuf al kaysani #nicolo di genova #yearning #want #joy #comfort #reunion #need #love #i love this man beyond measure and reason

[carewyncromwell]

"I don't really need this in my life... Why don't we forget about it? (Go and take your soul...) (Go and take your soul...)

Thing is -- (Thing is -- ) Time was -- (Time was --) Part of me used to love you: Part of me still does... This light here -- Some become strangers..."

~"Some Become Strangers" by Stevie Nicks

x~x~x~x

Carewyn's dress inspiration // the other main song I listened to while drawing this

x~x~x~x

So I thoroughly blame @dat-silvers-girl for this...but while talking with her about my recent Evan Bach post, I mentioned that since Evan and the remainder of his family is in Westminster, just south of London, and Carewyn ends up settling in London to work for the Ministry of Magic, there would be a very good chance that the two could cross paths, even unknowingly.

When Evan was taking the Tube to work one day as usual, though, he did cross paths with Carewyn -- and on his end, at least, it was very knowingly. What first caught his attention was the teenage boy in his train car talking to someone on his other side.

"Ms. Cromwell? You okay?"

It was the name "Cromwell" that caught Evan's attention. He'd heard it more than once before, of course -- it was a relatively common surname -- but it still made him start every time, since it was Lane's maiden name. And according to that frankly kind of meddlesome witch Donna, Evan knew that his children had gone back to using that surname too, rather than his. When he looked up this time, though, he was confronted with the sight of the teenage boy standing on the train talking to a well-dressed young woman with ginger-red hair, sitting down a short ways away and holding her forehead in her hand.

"Mm...yes," she said lowly, after a moment. She forced a small ruby red smile as she looked up at him. "I just haven't...been in such tight proximity with so many people, in a while. It's...louder, than I remember it."

Evan blanched when he took note of the woman's eyes -- a bit sunken-in, but almond-shaped, and bright blue. However shadowed, they were Lane's.

Evan very quickly turned away, his heart racing. God, why -- why here, why her? Why his daughter? Why here, on his daily commute, right now...?

Was Lane here too? Jacob? God, the thought of seeing either of them almost made Evan feel more nauseous. Seeing Lane after so many years was a prospect that daunted Evan, but seeing his son was almost more terrifying. Jacob had always had a temper, and he'd so strangely latched onto his sister even as a baby that Evan thought it'd be likely he'd have to physically defend himself, if Jacob caught sight of him...that is, if Lane wasn't there to diffuse things. Lane had always been the one to try to calm things down...

Despite himself, Evan scanned the train car, searching for his ex-wife. When he didn't see her or Jacob, he felt the faintest flicker of disappointment, and then a wave of overwhelming relief. Not only did he hate the thought of his estranged family causing a scene...but he didn't think how much more strain his heart could've taken, seeing Lane again after so long...

"Do you not take the Tube much?" asked the teenage boy from behind Evan.

"Well, no. As you know, there are many other ways to get around. But well, considering where we're going, I figured those methods wouldn't be as ideal."

"You can Apparate with other people too, right?" said the boy mischievously. "That sounds fun."

"Mind what you say in public, Erik," said Carewyn, before adding something a bit quieter under her breath. Evan just barely picked out the word "Muggle."

Evan's lips came together tightly. So this boy was like Carewyn and Jacob, then? He was part of that...freak world of theirs too? To think that such a promising young boy would be molded in their image rather than live a normal life, same as Jacob was...

A thought occurred to Evan that made him straighten up sharply. Was this boy -- ?!

When Evan looked at the boy called Erik, though, he found he didn't resemble Carewyn much at all. Plus he looked to be 13 or 14, at least...Carewyn couldn't be his mother: she would've had to have been a mere child herself when he was born, if she had been. And Erik had called her "Ms. Cromwell" -- he couldn't be related to her by blood. If he was her son, he'd have called her "Mother," and if he was her sibling through another marriage (this thought made Evan's stomach squirm), he would've just called her by her name. And yet the way Carewyn spoke to him...it wasn't just platonic, there was something almost maternal there...

Was this boy her stepson, perhaps? Evan wondered. Had Winnie married an older man -- someone already married? She was a young adult now, it wasn't out of the realm of possibility that she'd be married...she was probably the same age Evan was, when he married Lane. But to marry someone who had a son this old already... Evan couldn't help but frown disapprovingly, imagining his daughter marrying a man a good twenty years her senior.

"Anyway...thanks for this, Ms. Cromwell," said Erik. "Coming with me to the cinema and all."

"Well, I could hardly just drop you off and leave you there," Carewyn said with a wry smile.

"I told you you could."

"You can tell me whatever you want: it doesn't mean I'll agree with it. And besides...this clearly means a lot to you. I want to be there with you for it."

The way Carewyn spoke to Erik startled Evan yet again. It certainly didn't sound like how he expected a mother to speak to her son -- Lane certainly had never sounded so casual with Jacob, and she was always much more coddling of him than Evan himself was. It was almost sibling-esque, the way they interacted -- and yet Carewyn's sentiment still came across as so...maternal, for lack of a better word. So fond and proud...

Evan turned around, just in time to see Erik's snarky expression seemed to visibly soften.

"...Thanks, Ms. Cromwell."

The boy with the curly blond hair then seemed to sober slightly.

"...Ms. Cromwell...I wanted to say I'm sorry. For what I said the other day."

Carewyn blinked, startled.

"To that biddy in Diagon Alley," Erik prompted. "You know, the one who called you my mum."

Carewyn seemed to immediately understand, and her face grew much more gentle. "Erik..."

"I shouldn't have made such a big deal about it," Erik muttered, his eyes awkwardly drifting over to his and Carewyn's reflections in the window. "I mean, yeah, she was stupid to think it, when you're not even that much older than me and we don't look a thing alike -- but well, you do kind of act like my -- like a mum sometimes -- and you were with me while I was getting my school supplies, so it was only logical for her to think it. And well...I don't want you to think I'm ungrateful...you know, for everything..."

"Erik," Carewyn cut him off very firmly. She brought a hand up and took hold of his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "That is the last thing I would think."

She paused. Despite himself, Evan couldn't help but listen that bit more intently, even while trying to not draw attention to himself.

"...After what happened to your mother...I understand you being upset about what that woman said," Carewyn said softly. "Of course I don't think it was right for you to have sworn at her...but I know your anger came out of trauma and pain, not anything vindictive or cruel. And the last thing I'd ever want to do is replace your mother...or your father. I know I never could, even if I wanted to."

Her eyes fell on her own hand on Erik's shoulder rather than staying locked on his.

"...I don't want to be your mother, Erik. I'm very happy just being your guardian, for however long you need me. That's all I sought from the court, and that's all I want to be."

"Guardian." Then Carewyn had adopted this boy, as his legal guardian? Evan tried to envision raising Jacob on his own in his mid-twenties without Lane, and the mental image was intimidating. Being raised by his great-uncle more than his own parents, Evan would've been utterly clueless in being a single parent -- even Lane he always assumed did a better job of it than he ever would have...

Erik's face had lost nearly all of its edge by this point -- if anything, his expression betrayed something much warmer.

"You really are smashing, Ms. Cromwell," he said. "I hope you know that."

His smile then grew a bit more devilish again.

"...So...since you're not mad about what I said...does this mean you'll give me some more of those special lessons you promised me?"

Carewyn gave a loud huff. "Those 'special lessons' are supposed to be to help you defend yourself -- they're not a reward to be taken away when I'm unhappy with you. But I could very well withhold some of the rather nice Christmas presents I've set aside, if you don't learn to clean up your language."

Erik gave a loud, cackling laugh that prompted Carewyn to smile a bit more wryly herself as she got up.

"Well, come on, then -- here's our stop."

Her sparkly starred heels clapped against the floor as she crossed to the closest door. Evan watched his daughter go, wrapping her arm around her ward as the two climbed off the train and into the crowd of the underground station. Then, silently shifting his gaze out the opposite window, Evan watched the wall fly past him as the train picked up steam and sped off toward the next stop.

Because Carewyn had been focused so tightly on Erik and his mind, so as to quiet the thoughts of all the other people on the train she could've picked up, she'd had no idea that she'd been sitting mere feet away from her father. Even if she had chosen to look anywhere besides Erik, it's likely she still wouldn't have noticed him -- for she had no memory of the man's face and would therefore have likely only seen him as a stranger. Which, sadly enough, he practically was, even while they still lived together...

Carewyn was a stranger to him. Evan knew it, and he'd known it, even when she was small. He'd never "gotten" her, largely because part of him had been afraid to -- failing so badly to connect with Jacob had been so painful that the thought of messing up again, and worse, with Carewyn had made him withdraw from her, hesitant to let her in. But there had been moments, here and there, where he'd deeply regretted not knowing her. Times when she -- strangely enough -- almost seemed more like him than Jacob had been. More respectful of the rules -- more interested in pleasing others. And yet Evan knew he truly hadn't known Carewyn. How could he, when it was so blatantly obvious to Lane that she had magic, same as Jacob? And now it was all the more obvious that Carewyn was nothing like Evan. The way she talked to her adopted son -- her "ward"...it was nothing like how Evan had ever talked to Jacob, let alone her. She sounded gentle, affectionate, playful...

She sounded...happy. Raising Erik in her strange World, on her own...Carewyn was happy.

"Are you okay, mister?"

Evan looked up, startled, to see a little girl with cornrows and a sunhat sitting across from him with her mother, who had looked up from her purse with muted concern. It was only when Evan looked up at the two that he saw himself reflected in the window behind him -- and the tear that had leaked out the side of his right eye down his face.

He quickly swept it off his face with one hand.

"Ahem -- yes, I'm...fine."

Feeling embarrassed, Evan turned his focus back out the window, away from the girl and her mother.

Carewyn was happy. It was a thought that was a wave of grief that drowned Evan's soul, and yet...that wave felt strangely comforting, all the same. He stayed floating in that feeling for the rest of his commute, until he finally reached his destination, at which point he walked to work.

Once he reached his office, Evan closed the door and put on an Elvis record as he got to work. It was something he often did, to help pass the time when the day was slow and his depression made it hard for him to soldier through -- and, unbeknownst to Evan, was also what Carewyn herself did, whenever she had trouble focusing on what she was doing.

"Today I stumbled from my bed With thunder crashing in my head, My pillow still wet from last night's tears... And as I think of giving up, A voice inside my coffee cup Kept crying out, ringing in my ears...

'Don't cry, Daddy... Daddy, please, don't cry... Daddy, you've still got me and little Tommy, And together we'll find a brand new mommy... Daddy, Daddy, please laugh again -- Daddy, ride us on your back again -- Oh, Daddy...please, don't cry...'"

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #my art #carewyn cromwell #erik apollo #evan bach #lane cromwell #jacob cromwell #my writing #yes elvis is evan's favorite musician #it's kind of the one 'rebellion' he's ever allowed himself given how straight-laced and ridiculously conservative he is #it's also where carewyn got her own love of rock music though she doesn't remember it #she used to 'dance' to evan's elvis records #but hey let's be honest hound dog is a friggin' bop can you blame her #jacob was never as much into elvis his tastes are decidedly more bubblegum #his favorite band is ABBA and he also loves barbra streisand olivia newton-john and the osmonds #lane's more of a judy collins type <3 #and she's also friggin' in LOVE with traditional choir music #oh yeah the movie carewyn and erik are going to see? #star wars episode i: the phantom menace #released in the summer of 1999 one year after the end of the Second Wizarding War #(Erik ends up really not liking it but hey he's the ultimate star wars fan so of course he was excited about seeing it)

[sweetcedar]

3: Temper

character: ianthe pyr visellia || wc: 514

Charis,

I’m sure you’ve been dying to hear from me. As always, I’ve thought of you, too. We’re on leave this week, so if you want to give me a call, for once I’ll be able to answer. The pilots docked us at Ala Mhigo. Interesting place. We’re not staying long, but we need the break. I can’t tell you where we’re headed, but I can tell you that it’ll be cold as home. A few weeks ago, some flyboy got cocky and got his craft clipped with an outsized harpoon on the same route we’ll be taking, so I’m taking this time to write to you before some Eorzean artilleryman spears this big fucking ship like a fish.

To the point, I’ve been thinking of what you said when you were in your pillows last month. I know -- I'm ridiculous -- I'm sorry. I promised to tell you if there was any progress with that biotech that van Hydrus wanted to put in a bid for. You’ll be equal parts relieved and pissed to hear that the same crackpot continues to work on it here, but the latest experiments failed, and his funding is finally out the window.

The missive I got about it says a whole lot of nothing, except that we wouldn’t be able to adapt it for protection from tempering after all. Everyone you talk to thinks that it’s idiotic, so I’m sure you and they are right. Still, I'm not the medicus, so while we’re here I was hoping to poke my stupid nose in where it’s not wanted. I can't: everything is redacted past the most inconsequential questions. I wouldn’t even have clearance to ask where the bathroom is.

It doesn't matter much. If you ask my unit, I’ve heard nothing but disappointment that the funding is gone. Asina might as well start offering trials to us— I almost wish our Centurion wouldn’t have told them it was being looked into. Not a soul in the company knows what it would’ve entailed, and most of them don't give a shit. We’re still pouring out drinks for Cassia and Decimus. The newest ones are starting to notice the turnover rate, and it’s all I can do to keep their chins up, let alone convince the big guns it really is that bad. The thought of something that could protect them was important to them, no matter how crackpot the theory was to you. We’re not scientists, at least, most of us. The boys just want to get back home, stupid as it sounds to you in the capital. It’s a dangerous way to think, but I understand. I want to get home, too.

Sorry about the short, sad letter. I haven’t had enough firewine yet to convincingly write the cheerful ones you prefer. I'll write you something that would make an infantryman blush later, after we all get off the ship and get blasted. (Bad joke, or no?) So if dirty talk is right out, there’s not much else I can share without breaking my own security rules. No, sorry. I can add that there’s little risk of tempering on the upcoming missions. If I die up here, I'd just get to be regular dead, instead of getting tempered and then getting blitzed from the gunship by someone I'm about to go have drinks with. Big relief, that.

I know you don’t stay up at night worrying about me, but I’m never forgetting that you admitted you do worry, a little bit. When I’m hellbent instead of homeward bound, that’s enough to keep me going.

Take care of yourself. Write when you can. Tell me how you are, how life is. I love you -- I really do.

Yours, Ianthe

#FFXIVWrite2022 #ch: dulce et decorum #writing #the mental loops ianthe is doing in this..... #garlemald numerus unus... aulus isnt sketchy... charis definitely isnt going to break your heart again in a week... #listen the appeal of ianthe is that shes never been right about anything. this is what i offer you if you rp with her. #you! you are smart and right and make good decisions! #maybe not great ones -- but better than ianthe #and thats something innit

[fanfic-lover-girl]

Okay, fair. I deserved that snark. And I'm sincerely sorry, because I felt horrible after sending you the ask. I didn't mean to make you feel bad but I guess I was just weirded out after seeing paragraphs of hate towards the characters while ending it with but I didn't read the book. That's it. But that doesn't mean what I did was right in anyway, and I'm so sorry about that, like genuinely. Please just know even if I disagree with you, causing you this amount of anger was not at all my intention. I hope you can enjoy your fandom and I hope you know my reaction was basically me reacting to why hate something when you haven't read the source material because many people do that and I feel like the characters don't deserve that. And me reacting with wtf at first wasn't scolding you or anything because honestly how does an Internet stranger scold someone? It was me reacting to your paragraphs hate towards Harry and Hermione while saying oh but I didn't read the books, which wasn't fair to you, I know now but that is all I knew about your acc back then and all I could see was just endless paras of hate. So yes that is all and that is why I wanted to say sorry. I wasn't trying to fall flat with my apology. Just because I still disagree with you, doesn't mean I wasn't sorry which I am, very much so. Please have a lovely day, and please take care. And please do remember I wasn't sending you hate in any way, it was that some of your takes sounded so very rude but you're right, plain texts can cause people not to understand the tone and it was unintentional in my case. I'm sorry if it sounded like me being mean to you! please take care and I'm sorry, again! 😭

I promise I don't sound like that in real life. My filter is a bit loose on Tumblr and my sleep has been horrible lately so my temper is even shorter.

I wish I knew what hate posts you were talking about when you sent those asks. Most of my posts aren't even anti-posts. I checked today.

I can't believe draco malfoy is the highest tag! I guess all those small reblogs added up. I need to up my Zutara and Christianity reblogs!

In good faith, I will tell you partly why I dunk on Harry and Hermione: stress relief. Sometimes expressing my distaste for fictional characters is cathartic and it energizes me after a long tiring day at work. If my takes sound rude, it doesn't even matter really. Hermione or Harry is not a real child that I am victimizing. I may exaggerate and say I wish they died in the story but I don't wish rape or torture on them. They are children characters who I think JKR failed in some ways. If it makes you feel better, I do occasionally say positive things about Harry and Hermione and I don't bash them when I write fanfics.

Anyway, have a good day as well :).

#anon #this is the first anon who has ever apologized to me #definitely appreciated #harry potter critical #hermione granger critical #jkr is a bad writer

[tartrazeen]

Back on my Mystic Knights bullshit 🫠

You know how I'm always bemoaning how miserable it'd've been if Vincent Walsh actually left the show for season 2? I don't even know if that's true at this point - I think I read it on a fan site, and I've said it so often to overcompensate for how little I like that idea that it's gotten stuck in my brain 😭

And you know how apparently they would've also had another Mystic Knight somehow, based on the Battle Fury promo toys? One called Liam? Supposedly the Mystic Knight of storm, even though that steps on Ivar and Deirdre's elements?

Okay. So.

Logistically, what does the show lose if they lose Angus?

Comic relief

Slapstick comedy and pranks

Quick temper, quicker to forgive

Being clever and sneaky in a way that does not preclude being dumb at other times

Being a show-off but in like a humble, self-deprecating way (compared to Garrett's bragging)

Street smarts

Rohan's most central friendship and biggest hypeman

Cathbad's fondest torment

Some running directly into trouble out of his own vices lol

Unparalleled loyalty

Someone willing to do the dirty work

The team's second-in-command by the end of the show

That is a lot. It's kind of hilarious how much he was pushed to the front of the show, and how much the marketing kinda just glosses over him as "Rohan's friend." He is tanking the shit out of these plots. 👏🏽

Anyway!

Let's say Angus leaves. Me, making everything angsty, pictured a big fight between him and Rohan: they started talking about Rohan being a prince, then wondering if Rohan was the first-born or not, and then Angus started theorizing who came first, which spiralled into talking about what kind of people Rohan's dad and Lugad's dad had to be to want to be with Maeve.

And I'm gonna say Angus is in the wrong here, 'cause Rohan started the last big fight so it's Angus' turn. He's supposed to know how sensitive a topic 'family' is to Rohan, but he very wrongly assumes that he can keep making jokes about Maeve like they always have. But with Maeve being Rohan's mother, it's not funny anymore. Rohan snaps back. He goes low. He starts picking at the family that Angus never even talks about, saying that as bad as Maeve is, at least she did something with her life. What legacy did Angus inherit?

I'd love for that to spiral into Rohan saying Angus has nothing to show for all the shit he's talking about Rohan. Angus is a Mystic Knight - because of Rohan. Angus gets to walk through the castle - because of Rohan. Angus has a place to live - because of Rohan. Whether or not Angus brings up how Rohan's only lived long enough to "do" all those things "for" Angus because of Angus taking care of him as a kid doesn't matter. That was then, this is now, Angus has wasted his life looking after someone who doesn't need his protection anymore. Rohan's Draganta now, remember? And possibly heir to the Temran throne? What's Angus got?

I want Rohan lashing out in that way where he's physically unable to stop even when he's screaming in his head that he doesn't mean it. And for his part, Angus - after stomping off - does realize Rohan didn't mean it. But that doesn't mean those words weren't said, and after thinking about them, Angus decides... maybe it is time to move on. He's threatened to leave before but always stayed because... well, Rohan's his home. And Rohan needs him. But Rohan - some part of him at least - doesn't agree. So maybe it's time to take that for what it is, see this as some sort of... gift? Perhaps?

It's a bit of an OG Irish Goodbye. Angus maybe leaves a letter - "I'll come back someday. I promise. Love you." - but leaves. All the while, Rohan - who felt the rising dread of Angus being gone for too long after what was said - goes looking for him. Maybe he actually catches Angus, just walking along (maybe leaving Tir Na Nog after returning the mace to Fin Varra). They apologize, they laugh it off, they're gingerly friends again, and although Rohan's breathlessly relieved, the laughter keeps lasting a bit too long with too much silence in-between. And Angus seems to have so much pity in his eyes that he won't explain and Rohan won't acknowledge.

Angus tells Rohan to get something back at the hut. Rohan, refusing to question it, goes off. When he returns, Angus is already gone. Even when Rohan waits and waits. Even after Ivar finds him to bring him back. He only moves when Deirdre and Cathbad have convinced him that it'd be better to wait where it's warm (Rohan's waiting as hopefully as ever but his blood's been cold since Angus left his sight).

It takes days for it to sink in. It takes weeks for Rohan to admit it. Months go by, and Rohan almost purposely stops mentioning Angus altogether, and suddenly gets hostile whenever someone else brings him up. He changes, getting angrier and lost in himself, and decides to focus on playing the part of the legendary warrior instead.

A year goes by.

It's Rohan's birthday. Well - near-ish enough.

A messenger appears with a gift for Rohan, and a letter. From Angus. And it's written as if Angus was just casually telling him about an exciting adventure that morning: he's in another land right now, and there are no dragons there, so some friends tried to make what they thought Pyre must have looked like. The package is a sewn together... turtle-faced dog with bird wings. A toy. Lumpy. Nothing like Pyre at all.

No one really knows how to talk about it or Angus without setting Rohan off, and Rohan says nothing out loud about it. But for how close he keeps it at night, it stays wonderfully clean and cared for.

Enter. 👏🏽 Liam. 👏🏽

I do not like Liam. I do not know - nor care - what his character concept was going to be. Because he is Not Angus and therefore he is Sucks. And I'm gonna take that concept and stick it straight into Rohan's head.

With everything the show loses with Angus, what would they want to regain with a new character added to these other ones?

Can't be too braggy, because that's Garrett's thing

Can't be just 'another childhood friend', because where tf would he have been hiding

Can't be someone who's taken too seriously, because they need a comic relief character

Can't just be passing by; everyone has had a purpose for being here and being involved in this quest

So really, again, what do they lose when they lose Angus?

"🐶💕 i wuv u rohan, you're my best friend"

"🐶🌧️ o no i am in jail"

"🐶☀️ yes i love to help my friends, i am loyal"

Like, basic, basic, basic, basic things like that.

The only way to have someone attached at the hip to Rohan to the point of sharing a hut/life is if they grew up completely attached to each other in the first place (Angus), or they came in instantly starry-eyed over Rohan.

The only way to have someone constantly and humourously thrown in jail is if they knew the risk and went for it anyway (Angus), or they "🐶🌧️ o no" their way into there.

The only way to have someone stupidly and steadfastly self-sacrificing for their friends all the time is if they try to always undercut it with a joke (Angus), or openly treat it as the obvious thing to do.

🙂 Folks.

The Legendary Warrior Draganta is getting a squire.

Very much against Rohan's will.

I want Liam to be somebody who so desperately wants to squire for a knight. Maybe he has his own destiny that says he'll squire for the greatest knight to ever exist, so he's always looking for who that person might be. And then he hears about Draganta ending a two or three-decade long war after getting mystical weapons from the land of fairies, and goes, "🥹✨ It's hiiiiiim!"

Wherever he's from, he goes to Kells to find this warrior. And he meets Draganta - sees Rohan on the battlefield, cleaving through some monster that was summoned. And he's so overjoyed and delighted that he instantly trips over himself to pledge his allegiance. If only Rohan will have him, Liam will be absolutely devoted to Rohan's care.

Rohan: "😠 I don't need a squire."

Wrong. 👏🏽 Answer. 👏🏽

Liam sits outside of Rohan's hut all night ("🐶💕 i am waiting"). Makes breakfast. Sneaks in to clean. Tells him updates on what he's heard from the guards. Rohan ignores him, skips breakfast, messes things back up the way he had it, and goes to talk to the guards himself. Liam tries to tidy up Angus half of the hut - Wrong. 👏🏽 Decision. 👏🏽 So Liam never touches that side again ("🐶💕 obvi very special"). Repeat for weeks.

(we thought aideen was down bad 🙃)

The others can't understand why Rohan doesn't like him. It's not like Liam's some snot-nosed kid or anything. He's the same age as Rohan! Maybe older! And he's an expert with a shield and sword, even better with a shield and hammer. He's squired for dozens of knights that were almost enough to be the greatest ones to ever live - Liam knows how to fight, how to strategize, how to dodge, how to do everything and show the others a thing or two. In training, he knocks them down gently and quickly helps them up, showing them how to counter that move and endlessly complimenting their skills. There's not a cross or even neutral word to come out of him, and he's so delightful that the others are won over instantly.

They wonder if Rohan suspects Liam of being a traitor. Cathbad uses his second sight to check - but Liam is perfectly honest. And no, Rohan says that has nothing to do with it. He's had years of practice of knowing when someone's up to something, and Liam isn't anything like that.

He doesn't elaborate on what it could be. He doesn't elaborate on much these days.

Liam's fine with that - most of these knights are very focused and it seems like they're angry, but all that training and sword work has them burning all that off 🐶💕 Liam just has to prove himself, he tells the others. A warrior like Draganta won't just take the first person who comes along to squire for him.

One trope of these shows is having the "Takes Things Too Literally" character. I don't want that to be Liam exactly. He could be unfamiliar with Kells' culture, but I want his deal to be "Trusts Rohan Too Earnestly." Rohan, after all, is best friends with Angus. And it wasn't an 'opposites attract' sort of thing - they were both little shits; Angus was just a professional at it. 💖 So Liam getting thrown into jail over and over isn't a case of, "Oops, I misunderstood the rules!" It's Rohan actively telling Liam to go do something that sets Liam up to be hauled away.

On one hand, it's good to get some goddamn space from the guy.

On the other...

... Rohan's - just... constantly reliving what he thinks Angus must have felt. That fight they'd had, the one where Rohan went too far, where everything broke, where he thought he'd fixed it again, and where Angus told him to go do something and Rohan did and came back and Angus was gone...

It doesn't feel like Angus, when Rohan tries to subconsciously act it out. Rohan's doing it out of spite and anger. That wasn't what was in Angus' eyes. But that's as far as he'll let himself think about it before he's angry again and withdrawing.

I can imagine that at the mid-point of the season, Deirdre might ask Liam about this. She's worried he's being bullied, in a way. Liam agrees that he is - shockingly aware - and says a good squire carries all of his knight's burdens. That includes those of the spirit as well. Because he isn't stupid, and he knows Rohan is mourning someone. Out of respect, Liam's deliberately avoided asking or learning anything about it until Draganta (I have to assume he only ever calls Rohan 'Draganta') tells him what he's allowed to know. But he can't ignore the signs of it, the empty space, the way Rohan will start to turn and abruptly stop as if he's about to say something to someone he suddenly remembers isn't there. Liam knows. If this is what makes Rohan feel better, he's happy to be of service.

Deirdre: "🤨 That's... I mean - okay, I guess."

Anyway, Liam sticks around and Rohan's got no choice 'cause yadda-yadda vision yadda-yadda fairy yadda-yadda Mystic Knight of Storm. Enjoy the mystic shield. It's an umbrella.

There's eventually going to come a point where the second year passes, and Rohan gets another gift and letter. He disappears with it. He hadn't realized how badly he needed this until it happened. It's Angus casually chatting again, saying he's in a new land, and their dragons are very different from the ones in Ireland. The gift is a sewn... hairy snake. No wings. Big ears. A mane around its head, grander than any horse.

Rohan has never loved anything as much as this. Not since the first gift. He tries to bring it quietly home when - of fucking course - Liam catches up before he gets there (I have to assume that Liam's made a little bed for himself immediately outside of the hut 🫠 As in, Rohan almost has to step over him every morning or faceplant immediately after exiting the flap). And Liam spies the gift, going on about where that particular type of dragon is from and all the ways those dragons interact with the people in that land and... goddammit, Rohan wants to hear more. Much more. Anything about the place where Angus might still be.

So Rohan listens, and Liam is overjoyed at finally having an 'in'.

Liam thinks this means he can strike up another conversation about dragons in general later. Liam is wrong lmao

Another year. Rohan's stopped fighting it; Liam's here, and he might as well make himself useful. It's not friendship, really. It's just a begrudging tolerance and acceptance of an ally against Nemaine. All of her efforts have been to take over the land and have Lugad rule over it. Who's Lugad? Rohan's half-brother. They only learned the other existed recently, and it hasn't been easy having to fight family. Not for Rohan, anyway.

Liam's quiet. But he understands. He's put the pieces together. It must certainly be tough, he imagines. It'd be worth mourning that kind of loss. He never says this out loud, because he sees the others only ever talking about it in hushed, private whispers, like they're afraid to even reminisce about the happier times. As a squire, though, there's a duty to help carry these burdens.

WRONG. 👏🏽 FUCKING. 👏🏽 CHOICE. 👏🏽

Skip through this part: Liam goes to find Lugad, who's been isolated away from the others and possibly even back on his island. Liam successfully makes a friend. Liam more successfully brings Lugad to Kells. Liam even more successfully reunites Lugad with Rohan, who smiles for one of the first times Liam's ever seen.

Liam alludes to having helped Rohan with his great, unspoken loss.

It would not be an understatement to say that is the last time Liam sees Rohan smile. The utter rage Rohan rains down on him is more of a storm than he - the Mystic Knight of Storm - can weather, and Liam finally breaks. Not from what Rohan says, but from the failure of Liam's duty to him, forcing those words to come about at all. When Liam quietly bows his head and leaves Rohan to his thoughts, there's an unmistakable air of pity under it.

Rohan, the Mystic Knight of Fire, is colder than he's ever been.

There's an apology. From Rohan. It takes a day. It doesn't clear the air. Liam waits a few days more to ask what he's wanted to ask from the beginning: who's Angus?

Liam's not dumb. And it's not like the others only ever talked in whispers. And it's not like Aideen isn't chatterbox. Liam knows all about Angus by now, and how shattered Draganta is to have lost the closest person in his life. But he wants to know what Rohan will allow him to know.

The endless patience from Liam wins out, and the last of Rohan's stubborn silence crumbles away. By the time night falls, they've talked about Angus so much that it almost feels like he's there with them.

It's strange to Rohan. Angus doesn't know who Liam is. There's never been a person in Rohan's life that Angus didn't know about; now there is. But somewhere on the other side of the world, Angus had hundreds - thousands - of people in his life and Rohan was here, alone and quiet, lost and cold and empty.

I want to stretch it out. The war against Nemaine is finally won, and perhaps Ivar's chalice is retrieved. He must return to his home with it. He is forever in Rohan's debt, and forever a close friend of Kells.

Deirdre and Garrett have gotten closer, what with Rohan so caught up in himself. Nothing serious, but they are still technically betrothed, and Deirdre seems less and less repulsed by the idea of marriage.

Lugad is an excellent warrior. Liam trains with him constantly. Rohan is the better knight, Liam says, compared to Lugad's raw and unrestrained power, but Rohan knows Lugad is the truer force to be reckoned with. Maeve's slow escape and creep back into power stays off in the distance thanks to this force on their side.

So...

Rohan is alone again.

Another year. Another present.

Rohan doesn't open it.

He asks if Liam wants to sleep inside the hut. It's embarrassing having someone out front in the dirt when there's a perfectly usable bed at the ready. Liam declines the bed but is over the moon about getting to be an Indoor Squire 🐶💕 Rohan stops regretting the offer the minute he realizes Angus' bed will stay safe for a little longer.

He opens the present.

Angus found a massive dragon in this third land. There's a sewn version of it with a smaller version of Pyre to show how big it was.

Rohan puts all the gifts onto the other bed, since it might as well be useful.

(yes that means liam slept outside for like two years lmaooooooo 🐶🛖)

(anyway i'm super sleepy right now. gonna end this here, night-dream about it, and maybe come back with some more)

(i love how i finally have an idea for liam that doesn't make me hate him. istg i would've flipped my shit if season two started without angus. how dare they - he was the best damn part of the show 😡)

Btw, here's the link to the whole thread 🤗

Nope i lied lmao one more part:

#my stuff #good job tartra #mystic knights of tir na nog