#i've had the theme song stuck in my head all day

[xtreklx]

Low ~ Raphael x reader

One-shot: bayverse Raphael x reader Word count: 3.7k Warnings: cursing, mature themes, and slight NSFW, so this one is rated 18+ (minors DNI, see my masterlist for disclaimer) A/N: holy Toledo this one's a doozy. I've been working on it for a while, and it's def one of my favorite things I've written so far (at least, for now..). loosely based on the song Low by SZA, and lyrics are included in the text where I see fit. also I added color-coded dialogue for funsies. thank you guys for all the love on my stuff, and I hope you enjoy :)

__________

As a young, blossoming adult, your life so far has been overall steady. It staggers here and there, of course: moving in waves as life often does. But for the most part, it is everlasting mundanity. Your early twenties are supposed to be where it begins to roar; when you obtain the dizzying adrenaline and overwhelming fear of free will. Empty wallets, fleeting romances, broken hearts, anxiety, love, hurt. These emotions are meant to be felt, and life is not lived without them.

So, as life would have it, your steady mundanity was indeed set ablaze in your early twenties, when you fell in love with someone you had originally thought you hated.

Some might call that cliché. But, in actuality, not quite.

You had been friends with the mutant ninja turtles for years, ever since they saved New York City from the infamous Kraang attack of 2016. Your father was a police officer, and you had all met at the post-battle award ceremony and celebration. You and the turtles were 17 at the time, and you saw them repeatedly after that as they continued to work with the NYPD. Over time, you grew to become the friends you were now.

Well, not all of you. From your first encounter with the brawny brother in red, you discovered that he had quite the knack for pushing your buttons. While Leonardo, Michelangelo, and Donatello became some of your closest friends in the world, Raphael did everything he could to block you out. He was argumentative, temperamental, and unpredictable. You two could fight about anything: what kind of toppings to put on pizza, DC vs. Marvel, song or movie choice, even knitting patterns. The two of you were always bickering, always finding some way to make a snide comment or butt heads about something.  You couldn't stand him, and the feeling was very obviously mutual. 

On the topic of heads: flash forward five years later, when it finally came to one. You had been spending a lot more time with your turtle friends after finishing off your online degree program. While you were happy this was the case, the tension between you and Raphael seemed to be growing the more often you were around.

One day, the guys had gone out on their regularly scheduled patrol, with Raph staying behind because of a particularly nasty fight with Leo. You were waiting in the lair for them to return so that you could have your weekly movie night, but you were growing bored, and Master Splinter was nowhere to be found. Thus, you made the difficult decision to go bother Raph as he worked out in the dojo. 

When he saw you approaching his bench, he groaned through a rep, his eyes rolling back into his head. "What do ya want, shortstack?" He grumbled as he continued to bench press his barbell, the veins in his big, green arms flaring with each movement. 

You crossed your arms over your chest and huffed. "Save it, meat head. The more entertaining members of this family are gone, so I'm stuck here with you and nothing else to do. So..." You paused for a moment, watching as a scowl grew on his face while he continued his reps. "Do you want a spot.. or something?"

Raphael let out a breathy laugh as he set the barbell down back onto the stand. "Easy, tiger," He spoke as he sat up on his bench, side-eyeing you. "Even if you could lift this bar, I sure as shit ain't letting ya spot me. You'd purposefully drop it on my head before I could even bat my eyes at ya."

Your arms uncrossed and your hands went to your hips as you took a step closer to the red-masked brute. "Pssh, like I'd ever let you bat your eyes at me. I'd gouge out my own eyeballs before that could happen."

He scoffed up at you as he began to unwrap the bandages on his hands, which had been protecting his calluses from the aggressive texture of the metal bar. "Gee, yer a real charmer, aren't ya?" he questioned sarcastically, slightly under his breath. "Must be why you gotta line of men falling at your feet. Someone's gotta tame the tiger."

The dig at your love life (or rather, lack of one) made your face heat up, and you clenched your fists at your sides, taking another step closer to the brute. After all these years of bickering and insults, you were finally nearing your limit. "God, I try to be civil with you for one single day and you're a total asshole for no reason. What's your damage, Raph?"

Raphael whipped his head to you, the bandages he had just finished unwrapping long forgotten as he tossed them to the floor. He stood up from his bench as he spoke, taking a step towards you. "Ain't that easy. Yer my damage, sweetheart. Always have been, always will be."

"Oh, yeah?" You two stood not even a foot apart, and you were glaring up at him with the most intimidating look you could muster. "And just what exactly is your problem with me?" You could feel your heart rate increasing from the growing tension in the room. The air surrounding you felt like it had been injected with adrenaline, and you felt your temperature rising by the second. "Another easy one," Raph growled, looming over you. "You annoy the shit outta me, and ya never know when to shut yer goddamn mouth."

Your rage was increasing by the second, and by the fumes you felt radiating off of his mutant green form, you could say the same for the turtle in red. You were practically pressed against each other, him with a scowl on his face and you with a fire in your eyes. Your chest puffed up, and the words were out of your mouth before you could have a second thought.

"I bet you'd like to make me, wouldn't ya?"

It was silent after that. After quickly thinking it over, you almost gasped aloud at the implications of your words. The eye contact changed from a heated stare battle to his hazel eyes dominating, searching yours. You had been feeling very confident up until this moment, but that sentence alone caused the confidence to wither away, confusion at yourself taking its place. What the fuck did I just say?

Raphael's snarl had changed into a look of surprise. Confusion. And then back to anger.

With a frustrated grunt, he grabbed your waist and smashed his lips to yours. 

And that was the kerosene to the match that set your young adult life ablaze. 

The kiss was all burning rage, gory passion. It was tongues brushing and teeth clashing and a harsh grip on your waist and an even harsher grip on the tough, scaled skin of his shoulders. It was embers and flames and then the roar of a forest fire.  

You couldn't help the sounds that the kiss drew from deep within your chest. You didn't know how or why, but your soft lips fit oh so perfectly against his rough, scarred ones. Your mouths moved together in a harmonious rhythm despite the chaos, even as he gripped you by your thighs and carried you to his bedroom, as if you had practiced this a hundred times before. It felt like second nature to kiss Raphael, even though this was your first time doing so.

And you hated that you felt that way. 

What followed could, in no universe, be described as love-making. It was desperate and reckless ecstasy, a steaming release of the fury and tension you had been feeling towards one another for all these years. It could be seen in the way your nails clawed at his tough skin, in the way he pounded himself in and out of you, in the way your needy moans synchronized with his low grunts, in the way you clenched ever so tightly around him as he filled you with himself; it was aggressive, rough, almost mean.

You and Raph stilled for a moment after it was all over, breathing heavily and not saying a word, when you suddenly heard commotion coming from the living room. You made eye contact quickly, eyes widened, before scrambling to get dressed and cleaned up. You scurried out of his room and into the hallway, making it look to the returning brothers like you had been merely using the bathroom. And neither one of you spoke of it.

If you see me out in public, you don't know me, keep it silent In the bedroom, I be screamin', but outside, I keep it quiet Keep it on lowski, I'm the lowest of the lowest Wanna see if you can keep it like nobody know shit

The months that followed held similar tales of hidden passion. You and Raph never outright discussed what was transpiring, but assumed the unspoken rule of not mentioning it to his brothers. You continued to hang out with them when you could; on movie nights, you told them that you liked to wait in the lair for them to return from patrol so that you could eat all the popcorn without them. If Raphael stayed back from patrol, you snuck into his room or the dojo with a sarcastic remark and a smug look to annoy him to the point of 'teaching you a lesson'. If one of you was feeling particularly desperate to let off some steam, he would sneak out to your apartment on their nights off, telling his brothers that he was going to go get some air to 'clear his mind'. No matter what time he called or texted, you answered. It was almost like an addiction; you couldn't get enough of each other, and you couldn't deny how the other was able to satisfy you perfectly. 

You know how to reach me every time and it plays in your mind With a rush that feels like we committin' a crime You know where you belong, I'm gon' save you a spot But we can't be outside 'cause the block is too hot And I'm all on your mind...

At first, as stubborn as you both were, you kept up your gig of hating each other, despite the passion you were displaying. Between kisses and within sexual acts, your bickering continued relentlessly. "Wow, ya didn't even wear panties today. Gettin' desperate, are we?" "By the looks of your crotch right now, I don't think I'm the desperate one, dumbass." "Ya better watch yer fuckin' mouth." "Why, Red? Can't handle the heat?" "Oh, I'm boutta show ya heat, sweetheart." 

It was a balancing act, both of you trying not to break face and show the other how much you were enjoying these rendezvous of yours. Pride is a crazy thing, however, and as the situation went on, it began to manifest itself in other ways. 

Raphael was the one to start it, about a month into the endeavor. He couldn't help himself; after a day of arguing with Leo and feeling like a disappointment, he sought you out to release his frustrations. And the way you looked writhing and whining above him (as he munched like his life depended on it) had him feeling real smug. His hazel eyes watched you as he worked, the liquid gold shining with mischief. When he came up for air, his hands still keeping busy, the pride emerged.

"Anyone else make ya feel like this, doll?" He asked, his low voice scraping your ears like gravel, a dark smirk spreading across his face. "Tell me. Can anyone else make ya feel this good?" You had rolled your eyes and scoffed in the moment, but couldn't help the moans that continued to emerge from your mouth at his actions, clenching the sheets beneath you. He saw your bratty behavior and abruptly halted his movement, holding your hips still so that you were trapped. "Answer the damn question, or I'm stoppin'." You squirmed for a moment, whining, but your need had consumed you like a demon. "No!" You yelped. "No one else makes me feel this good, Raph! No one else makes me feel like you do! Please don't stop, please!" You wouldn't have called it begging after the fact, but he most certainly did. 

After that, something shifted. Sure, your sessions were still utilized for tension release, but there was more of a possession between you two than there had been before. The two of you were hanging out more often than you ever had. The bickering lessened, and in its place was validation, need, and your names on each others' lips. The contact grew more tender, and the conversations afterwards were more joke-y and only held friendly fire.

"So... do ya wanna put on that movie you were tellin' me about the other day?" "Wow, you wanna watch a movie with me? You must reallyyyyyyy enjoy spending time with me, Red~" "To be honest, I'm not here for you, I'm just here for the take out I know yer gonna end up orderin' later." "I love this hot n cold thing we have going on here. It's really turning me on." "Yer such a fuckin' goofball."

Between the two of you grew a mutual respect, an understanding, a cooperation: a love.

You found yourself thinking of things you wanted to tell Raph about when he wasn't around, and craving his input when you sought him out for advice. You yearned for the sound of his gruff voice and his blunt choice of words that always made you laugh or eased your mind. He found himself longing for the random questions you asked him or the jokes you'd regularly crack (whether they were funny or not) and the angelic sound of your laughter. Neither of you told the other about these feelings you were having, but they continued to develop on both sides.

Raphael found himself pondering these feelings one day while hitting the bag in the dojo, growing frustrated with himself. You had been in the lair hanging out with his brothers, and he continued his workout routine in the interest of being discreet, but he longed for nothing more than to hang out with you. To just be with you like his brothers were right now.

Of course, a particular brother in blue was bothering him more than normal. Leo was closer to you today than he normally was: giving you long hugs, sitting close to you on the couch, making you laugh with his idiotic jokes. Raph scoffed as he heard your laugh from the living room now, throwing an extra aggressive jab. What did Leo know, anyway? He'd bet that he could make you laugh twice as hard. He stopped, annoyed with himself for being so worked up, and stepped away to grab a towel and some water. 

As he made his way over to the mini fridge to grab a bottle, he was surprised to see you making your way over to him. Normally, on nights like these, he didn't expect anything from you besides your staged bickering until his brothers went to sleep or you went back to your apartment. You had a playful smile on your face as you approached the mini fridge, a message in your eyes that he couldn't quite make out, but goddamn he knew they were trying to say something to him.

"Hey, big guy. Leo sent me to grab some water," you looked up at him as you spoke, the smirk still on your face. And all the hope that Raph had felt in that moment dissipated, like popping a balloon. He scoffed at you, rolling his eyes before grabbing a water bottle and walking away. 

"Wait, woah. What's the matter?" He heard you ask from behind him, confused. He shook his head as he walked. "Nothin's the matter," He spoke slightly under his breath, but you could still hear him. "Why don't ya just go back to Leo? You're all over him, anyway."

He heard your footsteps as you followed him over to his bench. "Hold up, do you have a problem with me hanging out with your brother?" Raph couldn't make eye contact as he turned around to face you, so he looked down at the ground and huffed, eye ridges furrowed.  "Well, ya know me, and I don't like ta share. So if you're gonna hang out with him like that, then go ahead." 

"And just what would you be sharing?" You stood your ground a couple of feet in front of him, arms crossing at your chest and a determined glint in your eye. "Be straight with me, Raph, 'cause it's time we talked about this. What's going on between us?" He let out a grunt, shocked at your sudden confrontation, but still refusing to make eye contact. "Obviously nothin', if yer gonna go hang with Leo like that."

You inhaled, trying to maintain your patience. From the proximity you now held with the turtle in red, you knew you wouldn't get anywhere by fighting back. "Let me rephrase that. What do you want to be going on between us?" Raph moved to turn away from you, huffing again. "I don't know! Geez!" He exclaimed, before you grabbed his large bicep. He faced you, his massive form towering over your frame as you stepped close to him. He finally looked into your eyes, and saw nothing but a genuine question. No teasing, no tormenting, just a silent plead.

"Hey, talk to me, Red. It's just me." You smiled softly, begging eyes searching his liquid gold ones for something, anything, to grab onto and run with. He let you for a moment, before looking down at the ground again, growing more and more frustrated with himself. He took a deep breath, and kept his gaze on the floor as he spoke. 

"...I'm not very good with words, ya know that." He paused for a moment, making quick eye contact with you before looking back to the floor. "But I just... I like how this is goin'. How we're goin'... I like us together. I like bein' with ya, Y/N, and I just wanna do that without any of the other shit. I..." He stopped again, taking another deep breath. "I want to be with ya for real. And I'm sorry if I messed this up and that's not what ya want--" 

"I want that, too, Raph," You cut him off with a rising smile on your face, not being able to wait any longer. "That's all I've been wanting to be honest. I should have mentioned it earlier." Raph returned his eyes up to your face, shock gracing his expression. "Wait, so yer not into Leo?" He questioned, slightly caught off guard. You rolled your eyes and gave him a playful shove. "No dumbass, I'm into you." He watched your smile grow into a beam, silent, before a smile began to grow on his face as well. 

"God, finally," a voice exclaimed before Leo came out from behind the entrance of the dojo, walking up to the two of you. "It took you guys long enough. Even I was getting impatient." "Thanks buddy," you said to him, smiling as you guys bumped fists. Raphael watched the exchange, confused. "Wait... what?" He asked gruffly, eyes flicking between you and his brother. "You knew... about.. us?"

"Dude, we've all known for a while." Mikey shouted from the living room. Donnie walked past the entrance of the dojo and paused, a newly filled cup of coffee in his hand. "Yeah, you guys aren't exactly the most discrete," he said, before continuing his stroll back to his lab. Leo chuckled before turning back to his brother. 

"I was tired of watching you guys sneak around, so I finally confronted Y/N about it last week, and she spilled the beans on how she felt about you. Something told me you felt the same way, call it a brotherly instinct. Or maybe it was all the times you not-so-secretly snuck off to her apartment." He gave his muscly brother a playful punch to the bicep. "So pardon me for playing matchmaker a little bit."

You took a step closer to Raph, hugging yourself around one of his arms and looking up at him through your lashes. "Yeah, I mayyyyyyy have gotten impatient and recruited Leo to help me move things along. That's why we were all cuddly today. But you don't mind, right?" You jokingly pressed him, batting your eyelashes. 

He rolled his eyes at you and scoffed, removing you from his arm, but wrapped his arms around your waist instead of pushing you away. He pulled you from his side to his front, turning you to completely face him and ignoring his older brother present in the room. "Yeah, I guess it's fine or whateva," he fake-sighed, bringing you close to his plastron and leaning in toward you. You, too, leaned in, your arms reaching up to wrap around his neck. 

"Okay, at least wait until I'm out of the room to start sucking face," Leo commented, turning around and booking it out of the dojo. The two of you turned your heads to watch him leave before facing each other again, glowing smiles on your faces. 

"So... I guess I tamed the tiger, huh?" He teased gruffly, nudging his snout into your cheek. You giggled, a mischievous glint reaching your eyes. "Who said anything about tame?" You teased back, playing with the ends of his blood red mask.

"That's my girl," he murmured, before smashing his lips into yours.

#tmnt #tmnt 2014 #tmnt 2016 #bayverse tmnt #tmnt bayverse #tmnt raphael #tmnt raph #tmnt raph x reader #bayverse raphael #bayverse raph #bayverse raph x reader #raph x reader #Raphael x reader #tmnt one shot #tmnt imagine #tmnt x reader #tmnt Raphael x reader #bayverse Raphael x reader #tmnt donatello #tmnt leonardo #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt mikey #tmnt donnie #tmnt Leo

[matrixbearer2024]

HEYYYYY so ive been thinking, what if reader is like good at singing and one day when vox tells her he’ll be out for a meeting and then they start busting down them tunes not knowing vox came back and then after theyre done singing vox is just like “wow that sucked” (bro does NOT want to compliment them🙅‍♀️🙅‍♀️🙅‍♀️🚫🚫)

Sing-Song Shenanigans

A/N: HAHAHAHAHA I've been wanting to incorporate this into a new interlude and now this has absolutely given me the chance to- Vox at this point is practically wrapped around our dear Reader's pinkie, he's just in denial about it not to mention absolutely clueless. He compliments (Y/N) easily whenever he can pull the charm but his default is usually: "Haha lol u suck + ratio" while he not so subtly overheats and melts on the other side-

A/N: Also- this is the song Reader sings- I know the voice for Vox is outdated but the point is just it's his song that Reader sings lololol- Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this one and as always- happy reading!

You honestly didn't know if you should've expected this or not.

For someone as egotistical as Vox-

It kind of made sense that he would've straight up written his own theme song.

You only joked about it offhandedly-

Only for him to actually send you an audio file with a song he wrote and SANG.

Did he just have the file on hand or something??

You just looked up at the TV screen dumbfounded.

"I never aired it, I was just an up and coming overlord when it was made."

Came his nonchalant reply, you could only guess he shrugged but since his face was all you saw it was just a guess.

"I'll give it a listen later, you weren't finished with your story!"

"Right, where was I?"

And just like that, you both continued talking well into the night.

You'd actually almost forgotten about the audio file when Vox disconnected and bid you good night and adieu.

But seeing it in the chats when you opened your phone reminded you.

Well, it was probably cringe and you could make fun of Vox the next time around-

So you gave it a listen.

Only for the song to be pretty catchy and good.

Like the beat was stuck in your head good.

You didn't think that would've been the case at all.

And he said he didn't air this??

What the hell Vox???

Before you knew it, the darn thing ended up playing on loop more times than you would dare recall.

Too bad you couldn't include it into your playlist since that would mean having to publish it.

And you were just not ready to have that conversation with Vox yet.

Especially when it meant admitting that you liked listening to his singing.

And fuck THAT.

You absentmindedly hummed the tune on the way to university-

While you traversed between classrooms-

Even during breaks.

It only hit you that it actually was stuck in your head when you were asked about it.

"Yoooo (Y/N), what's that new bop you're listening to? It sounds pretty good from just your humming."

"Oh uh... it's a song a friend wrote. He sent it to me to... ask for my opinion!"

"Really? Can you send it to me too? I want to give it a listen!"

At least they didn't notice your awkwardness answering their question.

But because you didn't want to make it seem even weirder-

You hesitantly agreed to let your friend listen in as well.

Only for them to seriously cement what you didn't want to hear.

"Dude! They should publish this! It's a banger!"

"Eh? You think so?"

You knew the last thing Vox needed was another ego boost.

Maybe you could just keep silent about this whole thing?

"Hell yeah! What's their name?"

Or not.

Fuck.

"Of the song-?"

"The artist you goof, what does your friend call themselves? Surely they've got to be making music for a while with this experience."

Your friends had absolutely no idea you were friends with a technology demon overlord.

Even if it was their shenanigans that summoned his presence in the fucking first place!

You still couldn't decide whether to be annoyed or grateful for that fact-

What the hell were you even supposed to tell them??

"Uhhh... Vox?"

"Vox? That's a weird name. I almost thought you said 'aux', like the aux port."

You didn't notice that before, was his name actually an alias?

You weren't even surprised at this point if it was.

"Y-yeah, it's a mix of the words voice and aux! He came up with it!"

You pat yourself on the back for that bullshit reason, who cares at this point if it was right or not-

You could always just ask Vox personally later.

"Well you should ask him if we can make a music video for it!"

"Excuse me what-"

That immediately made you blank.

Did you seriously hear that right-

A fucking music video???

Problem was, you were way too deep into this conversation to back out now.

"Yeah! It would work for the music project the school's been encouraging!"

Right... the community music program your university's been doing to help spread the names of up and aspiring artists.

Problem being how in the fucking hell were you supposed to dodge a very blatant unspoken issue.

Which was the fact the song's writer and producer had been dead for DECADES.

That and you didn't even want to think of the ego boost Vox would get if you told him that your friends wanted to make a music video of his theme song.

They didn't know about him, but you were sure it would immediately go to the overlord's head.

Could this day get any worse??

"Uhhh- yeaaaah- I'll see what I can do?"

"Come on (Y/N)! You've got to at least try and convince him! This'll be a hit once it's out!"

You hated that you agreed with the fact the song most likely would be a hit.

Especially with the new rise of electro-pop.

God fucking damn it-

So that's how you found yourself pacing your living room waiting for Vox to finish with his meeting.

Well, if you guys were to make a music video anyway... might as well practice right?

Vox was a little bit concerned when you suddenly shot him a message during a meeting asking to meet up.

Especially when he couldn't really figure out what was wrong.

You seemed just fine a while ago?

Did something happen in class?

He looked back at your messages in the chat while he wracked his brain for any clues.

"Hey uh- if you're not busy I need to talk to you?"

"Why the rush doll? Miss me already?"

"In your dreams Samsung! Something came up and I need to talk to you."

"I'm in a meeting right now but I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks."

Suffice to say, he rushed the meeting so it would end quickly.

Vox didn't really even care that there were some things that still needed polishing with the presented concept.

It was a problem he could deal with later.

First, he needed to check what was wrong with you.

So you could imagine his surprise when he saw you on his feed dancing and singing.

Had you connected your computer up to the TV while waiting for him?

Vox just silently watched your antics while a familiar tune played in the background to accompany your actions.

"So I'll corrupt, manipulate, control what they see~"

Admittedly, the overlord found himself enraptured by your movements and singing.

He really couldn't help but stare as you danced around and performed to no one in particular.

If he'd only known that you would like his music sooner-

Maybe he'd have sent you more.

"I am the master of obscuring through our technology~!"

Vox didn't really think much of the song he'd sent you the other night.

A slight nervousness hit him when he was about to sleep wondering if you'd like it-

But clearly-

He didn't need to be worried at all.

"I'll sell your every single weakness back to you for a fee!"

A part of him wanted to just appear and see if you'd notice-

But the risk of cutting your performance short stopped him from going through with it.

"Don't be a fool and stand there droolin'-"

Vox couldn't help but chuckle, well-

That line was more ironic that it should've been in this situation.

"Get those Eyes. On. Me!"

His fans whirred loudly at this point, while your dance moves were quite clumsy and even random compared to more seasoned dancers-

Vox couldn't help but think you were just friggin adorable.

"Take a chance, play my game, get the rush in your veins~"

He really tried to keep his cool-

The overlord really really tried.

But he couldn't help the stupid grin on his face when he discreetly appeared on your TV.

"I'm sending out my signal download into your brain~!"

That was when he realized your eyes were closed.

It seems like whether or not he'd have appeared you wouldn't notice.

"And I'll be conquerin' the airwaves, I'm on all of your screens-"

As much as it was his theme song, Vox felt like you could rock the vibe just as well.

Which was so hilariously disconnected that he couldn't help but softly chuckle imagining it.

Well, maybe it was about time you realized he was actually here.

"So pay up motherfuckers, you belong to Vee!"

You screamed in surprise when you heard his voice from behind you.

The direction of the speaker was far enough for you to realize your digital companion appeared on the TV.

Of course he just had to join in at the last moment!

Wait-

"HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN THERE?!"

Your face was beet red from embarrassment, he wasn't supposed to see any of that!

"Long enough, I didn't realize you liked the song that much dollface!"

You practically swore at him up and down as Vox laughed and mercilessly teased you.

He seriously could've given you any hint if he arrived!

The fucking jerk-!

"I'm not doing it for you! My friends gave a listen to your song and they want to make a music video for it!"

Vox hummed thoughtfully, he was still on his high watching you get all shy and flustered.

You were so fucking cute-

"I'll agree to it on one condition."

You were almost too scared to even ask, weighing your choices before eventually daring to inquire.

The grin the overlord gave you immediately made you regret pushing forward with it.

"Fine fine, what's the condition?"

"That you perform and sing in the music video and send it to me."

"What?! Why?!"

Vox just laughed at your expense, the fact you were practically steaming out the ears because of him was the most entertaining thing he'd seen all day.

"Why not? Can't I have a look at the final product I'm agreeing to?"

You stuttered and huffed, he had a point there.

Fucking hell....

You should've never agreed to that fucking music video!!!

"Oh shut up, you just wanna see me sing and dance."

"Not really, your performance sucked."

"Oh fuck off Vox!"

The overlord just continued to laugh at how blushy and red you got.

Maybe he did enjoy your singing and dancing.

Well, it's not like he'll ever admit it.

#vox x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel x reader #vox #hazbin vox #hazbin vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox x reader #vox x you #get off my screen series

[gretavangroupie]

Errant

Word count: 16.0k

Pairing: Josh Kiszka x Female Reader

Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Smoking, Angst, Fighting, Name Calling, Toxic Themes and Behavior, Allusions to Cheating, Jealousy, Anger, Gaslighting. Smut: Kissing, Touching, Oral M!Receiving, Fingering, Oral F!Receiving, Dirty Talk, Degradation, Slight Masochism, Slight Humiliation Kink, Spanking, Unprotected Sex, Rough Sex. Fluff.

A/N: Hey! Welcome back for the third installment of the four part Valentine's Day Mini Series I've been working on along with my best pal, @sacredstarcatcher! We've had so much fun writing these, and we hope that you enjoy Josh's story! This may not be everyones cup of tea, so make sure you read the warnings! There's only one left now, and we can't wait to share Jake's story with you! See you real soon!

JOSH POV

You sit on the exam table, gently swinging your feet as the doctor scribbles on his prescription pad. The paper underneath you crinkles, your clammy hands getting stuck to it. 

“It’s looking like the perforation is healing, but I’m going to give you some antibiotics and ear drops. You’ll take the antibiotics for 10 days and the drops for 5.” He tears off the prescription and hands it to you. “Just be sure you aren’t drinking and you avoid getting any water in or around your ears.”

You scrunch up your nose when you hear the pointed reminder not to drink. 

“Thank you, doc. I’ll be on my best behavior.” You joke, hopping down from the table. Your sneakers squeak as you stick the landing. 

Navigating through the back halls of the ENT practice, you follow the signs that direct you to the check-out. It’s eerily quiet as you walk through the waiting room and out of the front doors. The sun nearly blinds you when you get outside, so you lift your hand to block it out while you search for your girlfriend’s car. 

Spotting her a few rows into the parking lot, you walk in her direction, knocking softly on the window once you’re close enough. She unlocks the door and you slip inside, the car next to her parked a little too close. She sighs, shifting from park to drive while you buckle your seatbelt.

“How was it?” she asks, her enthusiasm lacking. You look over at her as she cranes her neck to check that the way is clear before she pulls out of her parking spot.

“Well, it was fine.” You take a deep breath before continuing. “I have to take antibiotics and put in ear drops for a few days, so you might have to help me with that. I can keep taking the pain meds that the doctor I originally saw prescribed, but the pain should subside as I heal.” 

She nods, keeping the radio volume low. The only time she doesn’t sing in the car is when she’s upset, and you know the song currently playing is one of her favorites. So, you seal your fate and ask the dreaded question in every relationship.

“What’s wrong?” 

She huffs and thinks for a moment before she answers. 

“You know it’s Valentine’s day, right?” 

“Oh. Yeah, I guess it is.” You’ve never put much stock in the holiday and you didn’t think she did either. The last two years, you hadn’t ever done more than get her some flowers or chocolates delivered, mostly because you weren’t around.

“I just… I don’t know, it’s the first one we’ve been able to spend together and we’re spending the day going to the doctor and the pharmacy…”

“Oh, so you’re mad that you had to bring me to the doctor?” you ask, a little defensive now. 

“That’s not what I’m saying, Josh. I’m just saying I wish we were doing more than running errands.” She speaks curtly to you, and honestly, it’s a little condescending.

“It’s a made up holiday anyway. I’ve never bought into all the hearts and candy and bullshit. I didn’t think you did either.” You rest your head on your hand, looking out the window as she drives a little too fast down the freeway.

“It’s not about that. You’re not getting it.” she snaps, her tone whiny and frustrated.

“Listen. I had my assistant send you chocolate covered strawberries to your office. I don’t really know what else you want from me.” you bite back. You’ve had enough of this argument and want to be home already so you can take something for your pain and try to get some rest. 

“I didn’t even know that, seeing as I had to call out and use a sick day to take you to the doctor.” she says, and you feel your scalp get hot, your temper flaring.

“So you are mad you had to bring me to the doctor.” 

“I just don’t understand what a ruptured eardrum has to do with driving!” she says, her voice raising a bit. “You didn’t take your pain meds this morning so you technically would have been fine to drive… I just don’t appreciate that I had to use my PTO on Valentine’s day and all I’m doing is driving Miss Daisy.” 

“I don’t know if you realize this, but I’m in a lot of fucking pain.” you grit out, and she scoffs a laugh.

“Yeah. I’ve heard.” 

You know you’re about to lose it, so you close your eyes for a moment, gathering your composure. Unfortunately, she just keeps going.

“I thought I was going to spend my Valentine’s day getting bitten and scratched by your brother’s awful fucking cat, but now that you’re all home, I get to spend my evening dealing with you while you’re miserable and in pain, and I’m not sure which is worse.” 

“You act like I’m home on some vacation… I have a work function tomorrow even if I’m not out at the shows, so–”

“Are you kidding me?! You somehow have MORE obligations now that you’re home? I guess I’m the fool for thinking we would have more than a few hours to spend together.” She cuts the wheel and turns sharply into your driveway. You grab the handle of the door and grumble under your breath at the way she’s driving like a maniac.

“Look, it’s not like I asked to go. Jake and Danny did the last one, so now Sam and I are stuck going tomorrow. It’s supposed to be nice. It’s a fancy thing, dinner and drinks. I figured you would be my date.” 

You watch her turn off the car and think for a moment, the word “date” appealing to her a little bit, which is exactly what you had hoped.

“Come on. I missed you and I feel like shit and you’re… you’re all prickly. Can’t we just have a nice night in? I’ll make it up to you. I just want to take a nap.”

She seems to be thinking about it as she gets out of the car. You unbuckle your seatbelt and follow suit, walking around to her side and reaching for her hand. Tugging her closer, you wrap your other arm around her shoulders and kiss her on the side of her head with some force. 

“Okay, okay…” she relents, leaning in to you. 

“I love you. You’re still my Valentine, right?” you ask, nuzzling your nose into her hair and squeezing her tighter. It works up a little giggle out of her, which means you’re in the clear. 

“I guess so. You didn’t even ask me.” 

You squeeze her again, this time digging your fingertips into her sides to tickle another laugh out of her. 

“It was on the card that came with the strawberries, obviously.” you quip, peppering her cheek and neck in kisses while she continues to soften up. 

“Oh, get out of here. Go take your damn nap.” she says with a smile, turning you by the shoulders towards the house and pushing gently. 

—

HER POV

You hear the soft padding of feet upstairs and the whip of the flat sheet as your bed is remade, pulling your attention away from your computer screen as you send off emails. The sun is set now, the room cast in darkness, and you figure Josh has slept off the fatigue that was a result of his medications. You gently close your computer, setting it next to you on the couch as you hear his feet walking slowly down the stairs. You turn to lay eyes on him, looking a little worse for wear in his low slung joggers, but still glowing as usual. 

“Hey baby, you feel any better?” you ask, resting your chin on the back of the fluffy leather couch cushion. 

“No. Not really, but it’s fine.” he pauses, reaching the landing and walking up to the back of the couch. He pulls his phone from his pocket and checks the time, “You want to get ready, we can go grab dinner?” he asks, running a hand over his messy curls. 

“I would love to, but are you sure you want to?” you ask, a little surprised that he actually wants to go out. 

“Yeah, I have to eat with these antibiotics.” he says, pushing off the couch, and heading into the kitchen. “How long do you need to get ready?”

“Um, I don’t know, twenty minutes or so?” you answer, standing quickly and grabbing your phone from the coffee table. 

“Alright, I’ll be up there to change in a minute.”

You take the stairs two at a time, rounding the corner into your bedroom, and dashing into the closet. You finger through your hangers searching for the perfect outfit, the idea not occurring to you that you’d need one since he wasn’t even supposed to be home for Valentine’s day this year. 

You pull a dark burgundy top from the hanger, the thick sweater material perfect for the cold snap that has swept over Nashville this week. You pull your t-shirt over your head and put it on while reaching for a pair of dark wash jeans. After shimmying into the denim pants, you find a pair of heels, kicking off your socks and securing the buckle at your ankle. 

You make a mad dash into the bathroom, doing a quick version of your normal make up and running a curling iron through your hair. You’re spraying your wrist with his favorite perfume just as you see him walk past the bathroom door and into the closet. You can hear him changing clothes, grabbing his coat and pulling it over his arms as he steps into the bathroom and meets your gaze in the mirror. 

“Wow, uh, you know it’s freezing out, right? Actually, colder than freezing.” he says, adjusting his sleeves. 

“Yeah, I’ll grab my coat from the closet down stairs, no big deal.” you answer, walking towards him and shutting off the bathroom light. 

“You sure you want to wear heels?” he asks, as he ushers you downstairs, a lilt in his voice.

You open the coat closet, grabbing your jacket and pulling it over your arms. “Yeah, why not?”

He throws his hands up, “Just asking…”

You grab your purse from the kitchen counter, following his lead out to the car. He makes a point to open your car door, shutting it behind you before skittering across the front of the car to join you. 

With the turn of his keys, his Jeep roars to life, his fingers quickly pressing the buttons to turn on the heat. He puts the car in reverse, backing up enough to turn around in the driveway, the gravel crunching beneath his tires. He lays his hand over top of yours on your thigh, clasping your hand in his. He licks over his lips and turns to look at you. 

“Hey,” he pauses, waiting until he has your attention. You let your eyes meet his, before he refocuses on the road. “I’m sorry about earlier… I just have a short fuse when I’m in pain. Thank you for taking me today, and thanks for taking care of me.”

“Oh, it’s– it’s okay, I know you don’t feel good. Don’t worry about it, baby. We’re here now, right?” you say, offering him a lopsided smile.

He pats your thigh as he drives down the road, leading you into town as he mouths the words to the songs playing through the speakers. Your heart flutters as you look at him, your head tilting back to rest on the headrest, just happy to be with him, and happy that he changed his mind about doing something tonight. 

You’re quickly pulled from your daydreams as he whips the car into the parking lot of Phil’s Tavern, a local spot that is not exactly known for its phenomenal cuisine, sitting a whopping 5 minutes away from your home. You sit up a little straighter, making sure you’re seeing this right, and that he really is parking the car. 

“Phil’s…” you question, turning to look at him. 

“...Yeah? Did you want something else…?” he asks, as if annoyed you’d question his decision.

“You said– You– I thought we were going to dinner, not picking up sandwiches from the fucking neighborhood bar?!” you shout. 

“I’m not getting a sandwich. I’m getting soup. You can get whatever you want.” he says, pulling his keys from the ignition, and opening his door. 

A huff leaves your mouth as your jaw hangs slack, watching in shock as he shuts the door behind himself and makes his way to yours. He opens yours and offers you a hand to step down, but you’re still sitting in shock that this is his idea of a romantic Valentine’s day date. 

“Josh…” you admonish, looking down at your heels and sweater. 

“What? I asked you if you wanted to wear that and you said yes!” he says, shrugging his shoulders.

“Yeah! I didn’t think we were going to fucking Phil’s, Josh! It’s Valentine’s Day! I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there aren’t a lot of cars in the parking lot?!”

He clicks his tongue, and looks around. “Perfect, then we have the place to ourselves.”

Your eyes close on their own and you take a deep breath to keep yourself from having a meltdown. You grab your purse from the floorboard and grab his hand, stepping out of the car and snatching it away from him as soon as your feet hit the gravel.

He shuts the door behind you and locks the car, the two of you walking quickly into the dimly lit bar and grill. You walk up to the counter to order, watching as the bartender throws back a shot with the guys at the end of the bar. You catch his attention and he rushes over to the order counter pulling a pen out of his pocket. “What can I get ‘cha?”

“Hey man, can we uh– I’ll take the soup of the day, whatever it is is fine.” 

“It’s ahh, it’s Chicken Tortilla.” he answers. 

“Yeah, that’s great, thanks.” he answers, pulling his wallet from his pocket. “Babe?” he murmurs, wanting you to order. 

“Okay, I’ll do a Cuban, extra pickles.” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. 

He nods, “Outta Cuban bread, sorry sweets.” 

“Okay I’ll do the Italian then.” you concede, watching him scribble it down on the notepad.

“You want that hot or cold?” he asks. 

“Hot.”

“Think our press is down, but I can check.” he says, turning to shout towards the kitchen.

“It’s down, is cold fine?” he asks, him and Josh both staring at you. 

“Fuck.” you mutter under your breath. “Yes, fine.”

“$17.97.” he says, ringing the service bell for the staff. Josh swipes his card through the card reader and puts it back into his wallet, placing it back in his pocket before thanking the man at the counter. 

“Oh shit, I didn’t tell him it’s to go. You don’t care if we take it home, right? It’s a little loud in here.” he doesn't give you a chance to answer before stepping back up to the window.

You pull your phone from your purse, opening Instagram to mindlessly scroll while you wait for your food, seeing story after story of the dates your friends are on, fueling your rage all the more. You didn’t care that you weren’t at a fancy restaurant. You didn’t care that you were having a sandwich. You cared that he seemingly didn’t care about how you were feeling. That it was just any other old day to him, simply because he didn’t subscribe to the holiday. But that didn’t mean you didn’t. You tried to see the bright side, that he was home, and that you were at least together, even if he was in a sour mood.

He steps back over to you, pulling his own phone from his pocket and sending a few texts. You can’t help but notice how carefree he is, completely unbothered and oblivious to how you’re feeling as you stand right next to him.  

“You wanna watch a movie or something when we get back?” he asks, putting his phone in his jacket pocket. 

“What movie?” you ask, raising a brow.

“I don’t know, a documentary? We can find something, I’ll probably fall asleep watching it anyways.”

You huff out a laugh, “Of course. Yeah, whatever you want Josh.”

“What’s your deal tonight, Y/N, Jesus…”

You feel your blood boiling beneath your skin and just as you are about to unleash, the order bell rings and a brown paper bag is placed on the counter. Josh steps up and grabs it, pulling his car keys from his pocket and heading for the door, leaving you to follow behind him.

—

He pulls into the driveway rapidly, rocks flying as he throws the car into park. Shutting off the engine he pulls his keys from the ignition and grabs the brown paper bag from the center console. “Come on, let’s get inside. I’ll start the fireplace.”

You huff as you step out of the car, making your way up the walkway, pulling the sleeves of your coat over your hands. He unlocks the front door and places the to-go bag on the kitchen counter on his way to the living room.  

You take off your coat and hang it in the closet, pulling your foot up to release the buckles of your heels, letting you drop back down to your normal height. You can hear him mumbling in the living room, clearly having a hard time getting the fire lit. You walk into the kitchen grabbing a bottle of red wine off the top of the fridge, and searching around the junk drawer for the corkscrew. It’s no time at all before you’re popping the cork out of the bottle and pouring the Merlot into a bulbous green colored wine glass. 

He joins you in the kitchen, washing his hands in the sink before looking over at you, starting to take the first sip of your wine. “Really? You’re serious…”

“Serious, what? About this glass of wine? Yeah, I am.” you quip, swallowing down the first sip.

“You’re really gonna drink my favorite wine, right in front of me when you know I can’t have any? What are you playing at tonight, Y/N?” he seethes, pulling his plastic container of soup from the bag.

“What am I playing at? I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that just because you can’t drink, meant that I had to follow suit! My mistake!” you shout, setting the glass down on the marble countertop maybe a little more forcefully than you should have. 

He shakes his head trying to rid the nasty thoughts you know are swirling around up there as he pulls a spoon from the utensil drawer. “Whatever, I’m gonna take this to the couch.”

You grab a plate from the cabinet in front of you, unwrapping your sandwich and placing it on the plate. You look over and see him tinkering with the TV remote, no doubt queueing up something the two of you have watched, studied, and rewatched a hundred times. You grab your wine glass and your plate and join him in the living room, setting your items on the coffee table before sitting at the opposite end of the couch. 

The tension in the air is thick, neither of you wanting to say anything for fear of it turning into yet another argument. So instead, he presses play on the remote, and as suspected, ‘Kubrick by Kubrick’ begins to play for the 77th time in this household.

“Josh, really…” you whine, your shoulders slumping in defeat. 

“I don’t want to get too invested in anything, I’m gonna pass out as soon as I finish this soup.” he answers, turning up the volume to effectively silence you.  

“Can’t we watch something, I don’t know… With a plot? With a shred of romance? That we haven’t seen a hundred times?” you barter, talking over the intro music.

“Can’t you just let me enjoy being home for once?” he snaps, pressing pause on the remote.

Your eyes dial in on his, and almost poetically, you’re positive he can see the reflection of the flames in the fireplace dancing across your infuriated eyes.

“For once…” you breathe, biting your tongue.  “Sure, sure. You uh– you just enjoy yourself, okay? I would hate to ruin your time at home with my presence.” you say, standing up from the couch with your wine glass in hand, leaving your sandwich laying there as you bound up the stairs. 

Before you even reach the top you hear the music blare back to life, and the slurping of the soup from his spoon. If you had a bedroom door you would slam it but fucking of course, you don’t.

You place your wine glass on your nightstand before walking into your closet ridding yourself of the wasted outfit. You pull a slinky black satin slip from your pajama drawer, dropping it over your bare body before padding back out to the bedroom to close the curtains. 

You draw back the fluffy flax colored duvet, thinking of nothing but positively melting into your olive green linen sheets; a Christmas splurge the two of you decided you couldn’t live without. Sinking down into the feather pillows you let out a sigh, finding yourself exactly where you expected to be tonight, before you ever knew Josh was coming home for a few days.

You settle in with your glass of wine and your kindle, reading love stories of men, who at this point, you were sure didn’t really exist. An hour or so later, when the wine was long gone, and the house had grown quiet you heard the front door lock, and the flick of the light switches downstairs. You switched off your lamp, hoping to avoid any further conversation for the night, placing your tablet on the nightstand and pulling the sheets up over your shoulders. 

His footfall is light as he pads up the wooden stairs, rounding the corner hesitantly as he catches sight of you in the bed. He slides his hand down the wall as he enters the room, walking quietly into the bathroom and shutting the door. You can hear the sink running and the sound of him tossing his clothes into the hamper as you close your eyes and will yourself to fall asleep.

It’s not long until you hear the door open and feel the dip in the bed as he slides in behind you, a  gentle sigh leaving his lips as he sinks into the sheets. You feel the brush of his knuckles as they glide up your spine. “I know you’re not asleep, my love…”

Knowing you’re caught, you turn softly to your back, “No, you don’t know. I could have been.”

A soft smile forms on his lips, a few misplaced curls falling over his forehead, “Not true. I know you fall asleep with your arms over your head every single night. And in the middle of the bed. You never sleep on your side of the bed.”

“Well maybe I want to tonight.” you quip, rolling back to your side and repositioning the sheets.

“Come on baby, don’t be like that.” he says, wrapping his arm around your waist. He pulls you towards him, his obviously nude body conforming to yours. You can feel him, hard against your back and you push away from him. 

“Josh…” you scold. 

“What, baby…” he asks, running his hand along the curve of your waist. “I miss you…”

“You didn’t an hour ago!” you sneer.

“Yes I did! I miss you all the time! Every single day I’m away from you. That’s why you moved in, remember? So I could spend every day with you when I’m home?” he pauses, “Every night like this?”

“Josh, I just– Tonight was… Well the entire day, really, was rough. I’m not exactly in a romantic mood at the moment.” you answer.

“Well that’s okay, you can just blow me instead.” he says, more of a demand than a question, his lips brushing against your shoulder. 

“Oh can I?! How generous of you to offer that to me! What a privilege!” you mock. “You really have earned it, I can’t believe I didn’t think of this myself!” you scorn, reaching for his hand and shoving it towards his dick. “Try that instead!”

“Goddamn you’re being such a bitch!” he seethes, throwing the duvet off of himself and snatching his phone from the nightstand. 

“Yeah! Happy Valentine’s day to you too, Josh!” you spit one last time as you watch him pull on a pair of boxers. He smooths his hand over his face and runs his tongue under his lips, looking at you one more time before stomping his way down the stairs. 

—

JOSH POV

It took you approximately fourteen seconds after you said it to know you fucked up. It took you two more seconds to realize there was no coming back from it, at least that’s what you deduced as you tossed and turned on the living room couch all night. You spent those sleepless hours racking your brain for ways you could fix this. You were a dick, admittedly, in pain or not, and she in no way deserved the way you treated her.

You pulled your sore body up from the couch, tossing the throw blanket over the arm as you made your way up the stairs. She was still sleeping, sprawled across the middle of the bed with your pillow hugged to her face. You wished you could take back what you said. You wished you had taken her somewhere nicer than Phil’s. You should have known that when you saw her in heels and smelled your favorite perfume. She dressed up for you. But you couldn’t see past your own selfish needs. You only cared about yourself and what you wanted. 

You kicked yourself the entire time you spent under the spray of the shower, knowing that of the three sporadic days you would spend at home with her, you’d let one go completely to shit. Then tonight, you’d spend the whole night schmoozing with label executives, where she would willingly stand in your shadow until it was time to go home. 

Unless…

A smile spread across your face as you formulated your plan, and as you shut off the water and wrapped a towel around your waist you hoped and prayed it would work. 

—

You rap your knuckles against the old wooden front door, peeking through the glass to see if there is any movement inside. It’s nearly noon and you know he’s in there, but whether or not he’s awake is the question. You shove your hands into your pockets, the cold air whipping through the porch a little too harshly for your liking. 

You hear his footsteps bounding down the stairs and you see him appear through the glass, a strange look on his face as he opens the door. 

“If you’re on my doorstep, you want something that a text wouldn’t cover.” he says, raising a brow.

“Can I not come visit my twin?” you ask, pushing past him into his warm house.

“No, I think your last words to me when we left the airport were ‘Fuck off, don’t call me, I’ll see you in three days’, but I could be mistaken.” he says, shutting the front door. 

“Listen…” you counter, flopping yourself down onto his couch with a huff.

He stands across the living room with his hands on his hips and a small smile on his lips. There’s something different about him, but you can’t quite put your finger on it. Almost like a little bit of life has been breathed into him. 

“Why do you look different…” you ask, the intrusive thought pushing through.

“I don’t.” he says, putting his hands on his hips. His eyes flick up to the window behind you, before looking back at you. 

You cut your eyes at him, you can tell he’s not telling the truth but you let it go because you have more important issues to deal with. 

“I need a favor.” you say, cutting right to the chase. 

He raises his eyebrows signaling for you to continue. 

“I need you to go to this event tonight in my place, I–”

“No.” he shouts, cutting you off. 

“Jake, please. Y/N and I got in a huge fight and I have to make it up to her and I can’t if I have to go to this fucking thing tonight.” you explain, giving him the shortened version. 

“No. Actually, my answer is not only no, but fuck no.” Jake stood with his arms crossed across his chest. You let your head flop back onto his couch, a groan leaving your chest. 

“You know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t fucking dire.” You plead. “I fucked up, and I have to make it right. Please Jake…”

“Jesus Christ, it’s Thanksgiving all over again. You know Josh, if you and Y/N didn’t fight like this every other day, I might be more willing to consider it. One day you’re gonna fuck around and lose her for good.” he says, shaking his head and rubbing his hand over his chin. “Hold on, you two fought on Valentine’s day? Fuckin’ poetic. What did you do, buy the wrong flowers? The wrong chocolates?”

“No, I… Didn’t get her flowers.” you mumble, hoping he didn’t hear you. 

“Okay, so no flowers. Did you take her out to dinner or something?” he asks, tilting his head.

“No, I mean, well, kind of.” you mumble again. “Didn’t really think about it.”

“Where did you take her Josh.” he demands, crossing his arms again. 

“We went to Phil’s…And got…To-go…” you answer, realizing again as you say it out loud how bad it sounds. 

“The fucking sandwich place Josh, you’re kidding me…” he spits, starting to pace around the room. 

“Don’t act all high and mighty Jacob, you sat home alone...” you retort, knowing this isn’t helping your case.

He lifts his finger to you, pointing at you with a scowl, “Fuck you. Also, it sounds like she was justified. Didn’t she take you to the doctor yesterday? Hasn’t she been catering to your ass since we’ve been back?”

“Yeah.” you answer. 

“And you didn’t plan a single thing at all…” he confirms. 

“Correct.” you say, over enunciating the ‘T’.

“Asshole.”

“Okay, so you agree, I fucked up and need to fix this.” you say, gesturing with your hands. “So go to the event tonight in my place and let me smooth things over with Y/N tonight.”

“Sorry, but I can’t. I have plans.” he answers, shrugging his shoulders. 

“Plans?! With who? You don’t leave your house!” you shout, seeing a blur of black fur and claws tear across the living room. “Jesus, I always forget you have that thing.”

“Yeah, I’m not keeping it.” he says, shaking his head. “And it’s none of your business. You’re going to that event. The label doesn’t care if you’re in a fight with your girlfriend. They are expecting you, and you are who they’re gonna get. Plus, Sam will be there so you don’t have to do all the talking. Take her with you, lay it on thick, and take her home. Things will blow over like they always do and you’ll be back to your 2AM facetime gushy bullshit in no time.”

“Fuck…” you sigh, laying down across his couch. “I just don’t think it’s gonna go that way. This was a bigger fight than usual.” you say, feeling your phone vibrating in your pocket. You pull it out to see your timer flashing, indicating it is time for your next dose of antibiotics. 

You reach into your other pocket, pulling out the loose pill, and grabbing the glass of water you assume to be Jake’s from the coffee table. You swallow down the pill as he watches in contempt, checking the time on his phone. 

“Do you need anything else?” he asks, pacing around his living room. 

“No. Guess fuckin’ not. What are you getting into today?” you ask, relaxing back into the cushions. 

“I have… some errands to run. And a few other things.” he says, dismissively. 

“Errands and a few other things? Who the fuck are you…” you ask, stretching your legs out on to the coffee table.

“I was about to take a shower, are you staying or going?” he asks, and as you lay your head back on the couch your eyes start to feel heavy.

“Just gonna rest my eyes for a minute.” you answer, getting more comfortable. 

“Goddamnit, Josh… Okay, but you’re leaving when I do.”

—

The sound of the front door closing is what wakes you, and as you come to you see Jake standing in front of you with grocery bags, clearly back from his errands. 

“Well, good morning.” he says, his tone a little snipped. 

“Shit, what time is it?” you ask, pulling your phone from your pocket and checking the time. Fuck. 

“Yeah, time for you to go the fuck home and get ready.” he says, making his way into the kitchen. 

“Alright, I’m outta here, good luck with your… plans…” you smirk, making your way to the door. 

“Don’t need luck, but sounds like you do. Fix it, Josh.” he says, pushing you out the front door and slamming it behind you. 

—

HER POV

As you leave the house, you think back on how many hours it’s been since you spoke to Josh. He popped into the bedroom when he got home and let you know that you had to leave by 6 to get to the event on time, but you don’t really count that as a conversation. You hadn’t actually exchanged words since your argument before bed. 

The two of you sit in complete silence as he drives, the radio turned down so low it’s barely audible. You hold your jacket close around you, unable to shake the chill from the awful cold snap plaguing Nashville. 

As you arrive, Josh quickly gets out of his Jeep, jogging around to your door to open it and offer you a hand to step out. You accept it, begrudgingly, and steady yourself on the asphalt. You opted for smaller heels tonight, a little scorned from the night before. You look at him and see his slightly forced smile under the streetlight. He’s in his favorite brown suit, his hair in perfect curls, three tiny, metallic dots painted on the apples of his cheeks. He looks sinfully good, and if you weren’t so upset with him, you’d kiss him square on the lips.

“I know you don’t want to be here. Just… at least try to smile in the pictures, okay?” He says, a hopeful lilt to his voice. 

You give him a little side-eye before starting to walk towards the front doors of the venue. He catches up with you after locking the car, his hand landing on your upper back as he ushers you into the front door he’s holding open for you.

The two of you wait in line for the coat check, your eyes scanning the lobby for anyone you may know. You don’t recognize anyone, so you shuffle ahead in line and keep your coat pulled tight around you. Once you’re a bit further up in line, almost to the front, you hear a familiar voice. 

“Heeeeey guys!” 

Sam’s arms wrap around both of you from behind, pulling you into a forced group hug. He unintentionally cuts the entire coat check line to stand with you and Josh.

“Hi Sammy,” you mumble, giving him a halfhearted smile. He looks to Josh, who forces a grin, his nose scrunching up in a way that makes it clear to Sam that the two of you aren’t getting along. It’s nothing new to Sam, so he shrugs it off. 

The line moves again and you’re finally at the front. A friendly young girl is standing behind the podium at the entry to the closet, a few guys running back and forth to take coats and put them in their assigned spots. She offers the three of you a smile as she looks down and tears a tab in half. 

“Can I take your coat, sir?” she asks Josh as you start to shrug your own off your shoulders.

“Ohoho, trying to get me out of my clothes, young lady? I just walked in the door!” he says, like he’s some sort of comedian. You roll your eyes so hard you think they may fall out of your head and fold your coat over your arm. She laughs, her cheeks turning pink as she accepts your coat instead. She dutifully hands the coat to the boy behind her, then offers the other half of the ticket up, between you and Josh for either to grab it.

“And now you’re trying to give me your number?” he jokes with a charismatic grin, seeing the number 107 on your ticket. She lets out a shameless giggle at that one and you can’t help but shake your head and walk away, uninterested in hearing any more of his god awful jokes. You arrived in a terrible mood and he’s already managed to make your night worse.

Passing through the entrance to the cocktail hour, you grab a glass of champagne and thank the server. Taking a big sip, you look behind you and see Sam and Josh approaching, Josh talking animatedly with his hands to Sam, but Sam is looking straight ahead. At you. 

His eyes scan over your figure- you’re in a champagne satin mini-dress. The cowl neckline is loose, but the waist pulls in due to the lace-up back. The shimmery color is brought to life under the light right above where you’re standing. Sam isn’t listening to a single word Josh is saying, just nodding and staring at you from a distance as his steps slow. 

It’s then that you cook up a terrible idea, if not the worst you’ve ever had. If Josh wants to treat you like he doesn’t care about you and put more romantic energy into the coat check girl than he’s shown you in days, you may as well give him a taste of his own medicine. Right?

Sam eventually pulls his eyes away from your body, nodding cluelessly at Josh. He can’t help it and looks back at you again, but this time, Josh’s gaze follows his. You sip your champagne, ignoring the way Josh’s eyebrows raise in surprise as his neck cranes forward slightly. You can read his lips as he says, “Jesus Christ.” and look away without giving him a reaction. 

The two of them make their way over to the high top cocktail table you’ve claimed as your own. Josh clears his throat and musters up the courage to speak to you. His voice sounds like it might crack. 

“I’ve never seen that dress. Where’d you get it?” he asks, giving you another once-over now that he’s closer.

“You sent it to me while you were in Paris for my birthday.” you answer dryly. “Or was that your assistant too?” 

He closes his eyes and lets out a sigh, realizing he’s just dug himself a little bit deeper. 

“Come to think of it, Josh, have you ever bought me a gift yourself? Or do you just send the people that work for you on errands to ship me fancy baubles to keep me quiet and occupied while you’re away?” 

He steps a little closer to you, lowering his voice. 

“Do we have to do this here?” he pleads. “I’m sorry I didn’t remember. You look beautiful. Okay? Let me go get you a drink. What do you want?” 

You cut your eyes to Sam, who seems to be trying to occupy himself by staring up at the ceiling. Letting out a big sigh, you mumble back a tired, “Champagne,” to Josh. 

He nods and walks off, heading for the bar. In the meantime, you look at Sam, who’s giving you a nervous smile. 

“Sorry. It’s been… a rough few days.” You confess. “This ear thing has turned him into a jackass.” 

“Oh, yeah. He complained the whole way home.” Sam says, commiserating. 

“So it’s not just me?!” You laugh, Sam joining you. 

“No no. Not just you.”

You notice Josh is on his way back and decide to test the waters. Reaching forward, you step closer to Sam and adjust the collar of his shirt under his suit jacket, your touch lingering as you let your hand brush down the front of his chest before tugging his jacket into place and pulling your hands back to yourself. You’re in close proximity, so you look up at him with a little bat of your eyelashes. 

“Oh. Thank you!” He says, a little caught off guard, but he’s Sam, and he’s friendly, and you know he’s going to let you get away with it. 

Josh appears and somehow squeezes his arm between you and Sam, placing your champagne on the table. He’s noticed the mischievous glint in your eye and it’s game on. 

The event starts to pick up, more and more people roping Josh into conversations. It’s obvious that he’s the more recognizable of the two brothers there tonight, so you find yourself left standing with Sam on more than a few occasions. 

“Did you trim your hair?” You ask him, reaching out to twirl the end of his shiny brown locks around your finger. He chuckles softly, feeling a little bashful. Josh is at your side but deep in conversation with a man you’ve never seen in your life.

“Yeeaaaaah, I did, it was getting a little unruly. Just trying to keep it healthy. I’m surprised you noticed.” 

“Of course I noticed, Sammy. Some people may not notice you. But I always do.” Your voice is syrupy sweet. You feel a nudge from the other side of you and Josh is clearly eavesdropping, his brain working overtime as he nods at the gentleman talking his ear off while also listening to you and Sam. Sam doesn’t notice and gives you a soft laugh, shrugging. His cheeks are tinted a little pink. He’s too easy. 

“Why don’t we go find our table for dinner, hm?” Josh suggests, cutting his conversation short, which is just not in his character. You finish your last sip of champagne and leave your glass on the table. 

“You heard him. C’mon, Sammy boy.” 

You reach for his arm, linking it with yours. Josh gives you a look, but you usher him forward with a dismissive gesture. He glowers at you before walking toward the seating chart to see that the three of you are at table six. Sam follows along, his hand in his pocket as you hold on to his forearm. 

You settle into the chair between Sam and Josh. You opt for the chicken when the caterers come around, and both Sam and Josh go for the fish. There are a few speeches that go on before your plates arrive, so you sit politely and listen, Josh’s back to you as the speakers present. Since Sam is behind you, there are a few points where you turn around to laugh with him about something the presenter says. Josh stays facing forward, effectively blocking the two of you out. 

As your plates are delivered, everyone starts to eat, the table occasionally chattering, but it’s mostly quiet as some music plays. 

“How��s the chicken?” Josh asks, trying to make small talk. You take a bite, nodding. 

“Really good. And the fish?” You ask politely, but you don’t really care. 

“Delicious. Do you want a bite?” He asks, gesturing to his plate with his utensils. 

“Oh, no. No thanks.” You reply, turning away. He shrugs and goes back to eating his dinner, sipping his water.

“Do you wanna try a bite of the chicken, Sammy?” You ask, raising your eyebrows. You give him a soft smile as he nods, swallowing his bite.

Cutting a piece, you lift your fork towards Sam and he instinctively opens his mouth. Your other hand comes up under his chin to make sure he doesn’t get any sauce on his jacket. He accepts the bite from your fork and chews, nodding. 

“Oh, that’s really good. I should have gotten that.” He says, talking with his mouth full. It’s then that the stranger next to Sam interjects. 

“How long have you two been together?” She says, a nosey but well meaning woman. Josh nearly chokes on his dinner, pulling his cloth napkin up to his mouth as he coughs. It’s such a distraction that you don’t hear what Sam says to her. 

Once Josh stops coughing, he looks at you with a subtle anger behind his eyes. 

“Can you stop? I get it. You made your point.” Josh grumbles through gritted teeth. You feign innocence, blinking at him with bullshit doe eyes. 

“What point, Josh?” 

“You’re flirting with my brother so blatantly that strangers think you’re dating. What the fuck am I supposed to do, just sit here and let it happen?” 

Sam, realizing tensions are high, starts to stand up. 

“I’m gonna go get some air…” he says, departing from the table like it’s on fire. 

“I’m not flirting with him. I’m just being nice to him. You remember what that is, right? Being nice?” You say with an attitude, tilting your head as you wait for an answer. 

“Cut it out.” He tenses his jaw and his mouth barely moves as he scolds you like you’re some kind of dog. 

“Fuck you, Josh.” You’re not putting up with it for another second, so you push away from the table, grab your drink, and head in the direction Sam went. 

As you sneak through the crowds and the bar lines, you check to see if Josh is following you, but he’s still seated at the table. You see Sam through the glass doors, standing under a tent that’s doing little to nothing to stop the wind, smoking a cigarette. Gently pressing against the push bar, you slip outside and approach him tentatively. 

It’s quiet between the two of you as he gives you a smile that’s more of a grimace, though you know him and know that it’s not his intention. 

“Two wrongs don’t make a right, you know that, right?” He says, giving you a knowing smirk as he exhales some smoke. You sigh, kicking at a pebble beneath your feet. You hold your glass of champagne with both hands, your thumb nervously running along the side of it. 

“I feel like I do. But sometimes I can’t help myself.” You peer up at him, a coy smile spreading across your face. He lets out a laugh, shaking his head. 

“You two are a match made in hell,” he starts, bringing the cigarette back to his lips. “But I can’t imagine him with anyone else.” 

You roll your eyes. Lately you’ve been feeling like Josh doesn’t even want to be with you anymore, but it’s not like you would have time to even discuss splitting up in person, since he’s hardly around long enough. Instead of divulging any of that to Sam, you lift your head and step closer. 

“Can I have a drag of that?” You ask, giving him a mischievous smirk. 

“Oh, I don’t know about that. You know how he is.” Sam says, well aware that the only thing Josh thinks it’s okay to smoke is not cigarettes. 

“Just one.” You bargain, looking out at the parking lot for a moment, then up at him with doe eyes. He can’t help but smile at you in return. 

“Don’t even touch it. He’ll smell it on your hands.” He jokes, turning it around in his fingers and holding it towards you. You tilt up your chin, smiling sweetly before he moves it closer to your pouty, glossy lips. Your eyes close gently and you start to inhale. 

Within seconds, it’s pulled from your lips, and all you hear is Sam’s thick Michigan accent as he whines, “OWWWW!” your eyes shooting open. 

“I will break every bone in your fuckin’ hand if you don’t get the fuck out of here right now, Samuel.” Josh threatens, suddenly outside with the two of you on the patio. Sam grabs the cigarette from his restrained hand with his free one, dropping it to the ground and stepping on it with wide eyes. 

Josh pushes his arm towards him as he lets it go and Sam nearly trips over himself, mumbling a startled, “Jesus Christ.” before adjusting his suit jacket and heading for the door.  

“And you.” Josh is positively seething, as he steps up to you. “What am I going to do with you, hm?”

You nervously step backwards, leaning onto the railing behind you as he cages you in. “Josh, I’m–”

“Oh, it’s a little late for that, don't you think? I fucking warned you, Y/N.” His hand grips into your elbow, yanking your forward and dragging you behind him as you make your way back inside the building. “Get your fucking coat and meet me at the front door.” he says, releasing you as you enter back into the large crowd. 

You walk back over to your table, collecting your bag and your champagne before rushing over towards the coat check. You hand the same girl your ticket stub, and you anxiously sip your champagne as you wait. You may have pushed him too far this time. Seconds later she returns with your coat, and you take it with a smile, pulling it over your arms and making your way to the front door. 

Josh is waiting, chewing a piece of gum a little harsher than necessary. His jaw is hard set and his cheeks are pink and you know this does not bode well for you. As you approach him he offers a small wave and a smile to someone behind you, before letting his eyes drift back to yours, full of fury, the tension returning to his body. 

“Oh, so you can listen.” he says, yanking the large glass door open, both of you being hit with the cold outside air. You step out the door and begin the walk to the car, clutching your jacket close to your body. Your teeth chatter as the wind hits you, your whole body shivering. 

“What, are you cold in that slutty little dress?” he asks, walking a little too quickly for you to keep up with him. “Seemed just fine on the patio with Sam. Suck it up and keep walking.”

He turns his head looking back at you as you try to drink down the rest of your champagne. He reaches for the glass, ripping it from your hand and tossing it into the bushes. You hear the glass shatter and you’re a little taken aback. You’ve never seen him this mad before, and you hate that you kinda like it. 

“Josh!” you shout, you cheeks heating at his aggressiveness, and you think the alcohol in your system is to blame for that. 

“What has gotten into you, Y/N?! You think– You think you can just go around acting like a little slut at my work events? With my fucking brother? Do you know how that looks!?” he shouts, as you round the corner, steadily approaching the car. He is still chewing the gum too hard, hoping it will relieve some of the tension pulsing through his body.  

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Josh, I think the pain meds are making you crazy.” you scoff, completely brushing off his accusations, even though he is completely right. 

“Oh, fuck offff…It’s not the pain meds, it’s you! You’re making me fucking crazy! Running around like a little trollop just to make me irate for sport!” he yells, his midwestern accent peeking out in his anger. 

He reaches for the door handle, yanking it open to let you step in, regardless of how angry he currently is. As you position yourself in the seat you turn to look at him, ready to deliver another snarky comment but as you open your mouth he cuts his eyes and slams the car door closed. You huff and fasten your seatbelt as he joins you on the other side. 

He starts the car and peels out of the parking spot, spinning the tires as he pulls out onto the main road. Your hands grasp at the door handle for stability, his expression unwavering as he continues to blow down the backstreets of downtown Nashville. 

“Josh, I–”

“No. Silence. Don’t say another fucking word until I speak to you first. Got it?” he snaps, the fury is thick in his voice. 

You cross your arms over your chest, debating whether or not to taunt him further. As if he can hear your thoughts he turns to you, speaking through clenched teeth. 

“Not. A. Fucking. Word.”

The rest of the drive home was spent in silence, and you could tell he was compiling his list of your transgressions. You knew that the second the front door shut behind you he was going to unleash every bit of it on you, and to be quite honest, you couldn’t wait.

Once he tears recklessly up the driveway, he kills the engine and the headlights. Throwing open the door, he slams it behind him and makes his way around to the passenger side. Despite his burning anger, he’s still insistent on opening your door for you. He offers you a hand and when you take it, you feel how warm he is to the touch. Hopping down to the ground, he lets you steady yourself, then tugs your hand so you’re forced to walk in front of him. He lets go once he knows you’ve gotten the hint and start off wobbling through the gravel in your heels like a baby deer as he locks the car. 

You wait next to the front door, knowing Josh has his keys and you opted to leave yours at home to save space in your clutch. He ignores you, his jaw still working overtime on the probably stale gum in his mouth, turning the key in the lock and pushing into the house. He leaves the door open for you to follow him in, so you do, shutting it gently as you slip off your heels. 

He tosses his keys onto the dining table and you watch as they slide to a halt as he rids himself of his suit coat, tossing it over the back of a chair. You make a move towards the closet, ready to hang your own coat but as you walk he steps in front of you, snatching the thick black fabric from your hands to throw it over the same chair. He stares at you with a hardened jaw, his face and ears red as he prepares for his onslaught, and as a small grin turns up the corner of your lips you see his anger tip the scales to catastrophic. 

“I don’t know why you’re so worked up, Josh. If I didn’t know any better I would say you’re acting a bit jealous. Or threatened, maybe?” you pause, tapping your finger to your chin. “Yeah, I think threatened is the right word. Are you nervous little Sammy is gonna steal your spotlight and your girl?”

“Steal my spotlight?” he responds, scoffing. It’s clear you hit a nerve there. “You need to learn when to keep your mouth shut. Especially when it comes to things you know nothing about.”

“I know how many people were bumping elbows with him tonight, talking about his upcoming projects, barely even asking about the album. He’s got his own career now.” you double down, narrowing your eyes at him, twisting the knife. He steps closer to you, his nostrils flaring as he takes a deep breath. You know he’s about to lay into you for that.

“You should be grateful I even let you tag along to these fucking things.” he snaps, his voice raising. “You know, there’s a hell of a lot you should be grateful for, now that I think of it. Do you know how easy it would be for me to find a nice, quiet girl who waits patiently for me to come home and doesn’t spend every waking moment reminding me of my shortcomings?” 

You don’t like the direction he’s taking this, and you’re realizing you may have pushed him a little too far. 

“I could go down the line and pick any one I wanted, but I still come home to you. And this is what I have to put up with?” 

“So do it then! Go ahead and take your pick!” you shout, throwing your hands in the air. His cheeks grow red, and his eyes narrow. 

“But you won’t, will you Josh... Because you know that not a single one of them will stick around once they find out how you really are. When they find themselves home alone night after night. When you don’t speak to them for days at a time when you’re writing or on the road. When you miss their birthday… and every major holiday for that matter. When they find out that your idea of love and romance is having your assistant buy hush gifts you can’t be bothered to choose yourself. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s the one texting me from your phone, too!”

He slams his fist down on the dining table, his keys rattling against the wood. “That is not true, and you know it!”

“But it is, and you know who puts up with it? Me, because I love you. And I can promise that you’ll be hard pressed to find someone else who is willing to deal with all of that.”

“Dare me?” he challenges, wincing slightly as the pressure builds in his ear. 

“I don’t know Josh, is that what you want? Wouldn’t say I’d be surprised with how you’ve been acting lately.” you say, pushing away from the kitchen table and walking further into the house. 

“How I’ve been acting lately?” he scoffs, following after you, hot on your heels.

“Yeah! Like I’m such a burden to bear. Like you’d rather I wasn’t here. I’m practically your glorified assistant, or arm candy when you feel like dragging me along.”

You start to climb the stairs toward your bedroom, needing to get out of your dress and away from him. Unfortunately, Josh isn’t one to ever let you have the last word, and he starts bounding up the staircase after you.

“Is that what this is about? You’re still mad you had to bring me to the doctor? God forbid I ask you to do something besides complain and spend my money. I needed your help, because if you haven’t noticed, something pretty serious happened to me, but for some reason you won’t stop giving me a hard fucking time about it!” That comment about the money stops you in your tracks, leaving you glaring down at him on the step below you. 

“It’s not about your money and it’s not about me having to help you. It’s about you not giving a shit about how I feel and blowing me off when I try to tell you. All I want is for you to care! Have we grown so far apart that seeing me upset doesn’t even phase you anymore?”

Josh runs his tongue over his teeth as he tries to conjure up a response. He steps up so he’s on the landing with you, a little bit of silence settling over you both.

“And you thought…” he starts, looking out the window behind you for a moment, then back to your eyes. “You thought the way to get me to care… was to behave like a little slut?”

The energy suddenly shifts between you. You know that in the silence, he must have had a realization that he’s not meeting your needs. You feel your mouth go a little dry and you take a step backwards, reaching to hold on to the railing. 

“I–”

“You know what I think…” he says, moving closer, caging you in with his arms. “I think that I’ve been gone too long…” his breath is hot on your cheeks. “I think you’re due for an attitude adjustment.”

Your breath catches in your throat as you grip into the bannister. You swallow nervously, as his hand moves to meet your satin covered waist. “Yeah, I think I need to remind you just how good you have it, don’t I sweetheart?”

The words are there, swirling through your head but as his eyes peer into yours, nothing seems to come out. 

“S’matter, baby? Nothin’ to say suddenly? No smart ass remarks? I’m right, aren’t I? You need me to fuck some sense into you?” he growls, his fingers gripping into the curve of your waist. He nods his head in the direction of your bedroom, a crooked smirk on his face. 

“Go ahead and take off your earrings, baby. Get out of that unbecoming little dress and wait for me on the bed.” he says softly, rubbing a thumb over the apple of your cheek before walking off and locking himself in the bathroom. 

The cocktail of emotions your brain is floating in has you dizzy. You want to be angry at him, but you’re starting to feel a little embarrassed as you think back on how you acted at dinner. Part of you wants to cry, his harsh words hitting you where he knew it would hurt, but another is so turned on by the way he just flipped the switch on the entire emotionally charged exchange.

You shuffle into your shared bedroom, sitting gingerly at your vanity and taking off all of your jewelry. As you take off your rings, you stare at the earrings and necklace in your porcelain dish, remembering when he had gifted each piece to you. Maybe it’s not that he doesn’t care how long or how often he’s away…he just doesn’t know how to make it better. So he sends you trinkets from wherever he visits, reminding you that you’re on his mind. Your heart lurches as you realize that maybe all he wanted while he was away from home was a quiet dinner with you, his love, at Phil’s, and that’s why he didn’t take you out to an expensive steakhouse where you would undoubtedly sit awkwardly across from each other and make conversation. He wanted comfort. He wanted what he knows no other woman can give him. 

You hear the water start to run, which zaps you back into the moment. Standing from the velvet upholstered stool, you head for the walk-in closet and try to reach for the zipper on your dress. You can’t exactly get to it, stretching to try and pinch the zipper between your fingers. The bathroom door opens and you whip your head around, knowing he’s going to come looking for you. 

It’s only seconds before you feel his warm hands gliding across your hips, no doubt knowing you need his help with the zipper. Perhaps that’s why he purchased the dress to begin with. Knowing he would be the one to help you take it off. He moves your hair, laying it all to one side of your neck before pressing his lips to your skin. His fingers pinch the small zipper as he slides it down, letting the silk dress flutter down around your ankles. 

“Tell me you know that I love you.” he breathes, his lips brushing against your neck.

“I know you love me.” you answer, breathless as your chest heaves. 

His hands slide around to your bare stomach, pulling your body back until you’re flush with his own. “Now, tell me you’ll remember that.”

“I’ll remember.” you whisper, feeling him long and hard as he rests against your back. 

He grabs your hips and spins you around to face him, cupping your cheeks in his hands. “Good, because I’m about to fuck you like I don’t.”

A gasp leaves your chest as your eyes meet his, dark and blown out. He drags his thumb over your lips, smearing the remnants of your pink lipstick across your chin. “Now get on the bed like I told you the first time.”

Reluctantly pulling away from him, you make your way back into the bedroom, kneeling on the bed, sitting on your heels. You nervously cover your chest with your hands, the room feeling a little cold all of the sudden. He steps into the room, his hand lingering on the doorframe. 

“Move your hands,” he says, his voice quiet but stern. “You wanted the entire dinner table to see them. Why can’t I?”

Your cheeks burn red as you lower your hands to your lap. He approaches, his eyes scanning every inch of you like he’s appraising you.

“He didn’t touch you, did he?” he asks, pushing your hair behind your ear. “My brother?” 

You quickly start to shake your head. Maybe a little too quickly. You watch him with careful eyes as he lets his hand gently graze your throat, then move further down, the gears in his head turning.

“I bet you wanted him to, though…” he adds, pinching at your nipple teasingly, wanting a reaction. You take in a sharp breath between your teeth.

“No.” you say defensively.

“You like Sam because he’s so sweet. He cares. That’s what you want, right? Someone to wipe away your tears when you cry about meaningless shit? You know that’s his specialty.” 

“I don’t like Sam. I just wanted–”

“Save it.” Josh snaps, grabbing harshly at your cheeks to shut you up. He stares at you for a moment before placing a gentle kiss to your squished lips. He pulls away quickly, but doesn’t release his grip on your cheeks.

“If you want to act like a little whore, I’m going to treat you like one. If I want to hear you speak, I’ll tell you.”

He pushes you backwards as he releases his hand, landing you in the pile of soft feather pillows behind you. He stands up from the bed, shimmying off his boxers before crawling back onto the bed in front of you. His eyes meet yours and for a second there is a softness there, almost as if he is asking if you’re okay with this. You offer him a subtle nod before he lowers his head and begins to drag his nose up the length of your leg.

“Did you have fun tonight, flitting around the place, drink in hand, practically begging to be fucked in the bathroom? Hm? Is that what you wanted?” he asks, pressing a hot kiss to the inside of your thigh. 

You squirm beneath him as the filthy words leave his angelic lips. “Did you want him to take you away and fuck your stupid little brains out? Answer me.”

“No.” you reply, desperate to feel his lips on your body. “I… I wanted…” you stammer, your bravery leaving you with every shaky breath. He places an open mouthed kiss to your mound, but freezes once your words trail off.

“You never stop talking, but now you’re at a loss for words? Fucking say it, Y/N.” 

“I wanted you!” you cry out, your head falling back onto your pillow, a heavy sigh leaving your chest. He squeezes the softness of your thigh before he speaks.

“And you really thought that would work?” he asks, nipping at your soft skin, chuckling quietly. “You’re dumber than I thought.”  

You feel your skin grow hot at his words, your hips jerking upwards on their own accord.

“You like that, don’t you? You like it when I call you my stupid little girl?” he asks, sucking a mark into your thigh. “My dumb little brat?”

A whine leaves your chest as you feel his tongue slowly start to slide through your folds. 

He pulls away from you, “Ah, ah… Be quiet, remember? I know it’s hard for you to do as you’re told, but if I have to remind you again you aren’t going to like what happens.”

You stifle your moan and move your hips as his hands hold you in place, his tongue reconnecting with your core as he makes slow, languid laps against you. “Did I leave this pretty pussy too long? Does she miss me and need my attention?” 

He moves his hands to let his thumbs spread you further, swirling his tongue over your clit. “I think she misses me so bad that it’s got you acting crazy, my love.” His lips suction against you, sucking you into his mouth with a lewd slurp. His hands slide up to your hips, pulling you closer to his face. His tongue grazes your entrance, dipping in just long enough to tease you. He presses a kiss to your clit before pulling away again. 

“You must be crazy if you think my brother could do even half of what I do to you. No one, no one, treats this pussy like I do. Worships this pussy like I do.”

“Josh…” you whine, the word leaving your lips before you could stop it. 

You feel a sharp flick to your clit and you cry out, your body jumping in response.

“I told you that you wouldn’t like it.” he says, pressing a kiss to your sensitive clit, as if to soothe the pain he inflicted. You feel a rush of warmth at your core, your body responding positively to his actions. 

“Oh, baby, fuck…” he groans, sliding his fingers thorough the wetness. “But you do like it. You love it.” He pauses, locking eyes with you. “Answer me.”

“I–Yes…” you breathe, feeling his smile against your core. 

“My dirty, sweet, baby likes a little pain with her pleasure.” he growls, sliding a finger inside of you. You clench around it, desperate for more. “Yeah? More? You want two or three?” he asks, his eyes flicking to yours. 

“T-Three.” you beg, breathless as you feel him slide in two more. 

His lips find your clit again, suckling the sensitive nub into his mouth, rolling his tongue over it again and again as his fingers work you from the inside. The pressure is growing and you know you’re close. He must feel you fluttering around him, so he pulls his fingers and mouth away from you quicker than you can blink. 

“Nu-uh. Not until I say so, and I do believe I’d like to get mine first tonight... You know, for my troubles.”

A huff leaves your chest as you look at him, sitting back up to rest on his heels. 

“You know baby, I think I’m feelin’ a little reckless tonight...I’m thinkin’ maybe we skip the condom, what do you say?”

Your eyes widen in surprise, Josh always having been completely adamant that you use protection. Always. Despite being on birth control. You can count the number of times you’ve gone without a condom on one hand over the three years you’ve been together. 

“Are–Are you sure?” you ask.

“Yeah, I think you need the full effect… need to really feel me so you can remember your place. Remember why you count down the days until I come home.” he says, fisting his base. 

“Although,” he says thoughtfully before pausing. “… if I’m going to fuck you like a whore, I’m gonna have to wear one. Standard procedure, you understand…” he mumbles, reaching over to his nightstand and pulling a silver foil package from the drawer. You feel your heart drop as he rips it out of the package and effectively rips the opportunity away from you. A quiet, disappointed whine leaves your throat.

He clicks his tongue as he watches your face drop, “Aw, what is it? Did you want my cock?” he asks, a smug grin on his face. “If you behaved yourself I probably would have given you what you wanted. It’s a shame, really.”

“Please…” you whine, hoping he doesn’t notice the tears in the corners of your eyes. 

“Oh she’s begging for it. God, you really are so sweet when you want to be.” he says, rolling the condom over his cock. 

“Josh come on, please!” it’s a pathetic whine as it leaves your mouth, but you don’t care.

His hand collides with the side of your hip, a loud smack ringing through the room. “Don’t be a little brat. You’ll take what you’re given.”

A whimper leaves your lips as the sting sets in. “That hu—”

“What? Hurt? That’s typically the point, love.” Your hips jerk up towards him, his abs peeking through as he leans towards you. “Now, do you understand?”

You nod your head as he lowers his, pressing his lips to yours. His perfect heart shaped lips capture yours, his tongue pressing into your mouth with fervor. Your hands come up to wrap around his waist, his skin soft and smooth beneath your hands. You feel his muscles tense under your touch as he ruts his hips, dragging himself against you, the sound of the latex audible as you try to angle yourself so he’ll slip inside you.

“So impatient…” he chides, sucking his teeth as he hovers his lips just above yours. He decides to take mercy on you, letting himself start to slide inside with ease. You cup his cheek, kissing him tenderly, a silent thank you. You feel the heat building in your abdomen again, half the battle won after the way he edged you previously. 

“Does that feel good, sweet thing?” he asks, pushing in to the hilt before slowly pulling out again. “You gonna settle down now that you’re feeling nice and full?” he asks, and you respond with a shake of your head. “No?” he questions, surprised. He fucks into you slowly, deeply. You feel every inch of him that you’ve missed… but it’s not the same.

“No…I wanted you to take it off…” you whine. He shakes his head, a little chuckle leaving him.

“You’re in no place to make demands. I’m gonna get mine, toss it in the trash, and leave you wishing it was dripping down your thigh. And if you’re smart, you’ll say thank you.”

You feel yourself clench around him at his cruel words, making him smirk. So he carries on, picking up his pace as he grips into the softness of your thighs.

“But you’re not, are you?” he taunts, lowering his head to kiss and suck at your collarbone. “Can’t be if you pretended to be interested in my idiot brother. You’re mine. What do I have to do to get it to stick in that little brain of yours?” 

You whisper his name, closing your eyes as your cheeks turn pink, his insults both embarrassing you and bringing you closer and closer to the edge. 

“I told you I’m getting mine first. Don’t make me tell you again,” he warns, his palm landing on the pillow next to your head as he rests his weight and increases his range of motion. As he moves faster, his thrusts become more brutal as he starts to knock the wind out of you. It’s getting harder to keep yourself from losing it, your thighs starting to quiver.

He feels it, because he always does, but you can tell by the look on his face he doesn’t want to stop. He curses breathlessly and pulls out, his hand leaving your hip and moving down to stroke himself, but he lets out a grunt and pushes up to sit on his heels, looking down at himself.

“...Fuck.”

He wraps his arm under your thigh and tugs you closer, urgently, and sheathes himself inside so quickly you cry out.

“Oh, baby. You feel like fucking velvet.” he moans, his head falling back, his moans bouncing off the ceiling. When he pulls back, something feels… different. “Looks like you got what you wanted after all…”

He sits back again and pulls out of you, resting his hands on his thighs as he takes a deep breath like he needs to get himself under control. Sitting up on your elbows, you look down at him between your thighs to see the condom has not just broken, but torn. It’s more than halfway down his shaft, which explains why he felt so slick and warm inside you.

“Oh…” you say softly, your lips parting. You stare at him above you, his chest rising and falling, his eyes heavy as they lock onto yours. He lifts one hand, motioning you forward with two fingers, and you know exactly what he wants. 

“On your knees.”

You don’t hesitate to roll onto your side and stand from the bed, dropping to your knees with your hands in your lap. He watches as you go, waiting until you’re in position to stand himself and approach, raking his hand through your hair almost affectionately. You keep your eyes on him, the way he’s hard and straining against the useless condom.

“Does being on your knees hurt, little slut? Or is that right where you belong?” he asks, resting the tip of his cock against your lips. “Open.” 

You stick out your tongue, dragging it against the bottom of his tip.

“More.” he demands, pushing his hips forward. You open your mouth wider as you move to reach up and touch him, but he immediately tells you, “No.”

Your eyes look up at him, brows furrowing in curiosity as you question silently whether or not he’s going to take the condom off.

It’s sudden and shocking when he answers your question, grabbing the back of your head and shoving himself in deep. You feel him against your tongue, tasting the lube and feeling the latex on the front end of your tongue. 

He starts to thrust so quickly, you reach for his thighs to try and push him back. He doesn’t seem to care, almost relishing in your struggle, his fist tightening in your hair. As a gag works its way up your throat, he pulls you off of him, gasping for air, saliva dripping down your chin and neck. 

“How’s it taste, baby?” he asks, tugging your hair, making you look up at him through bleary eyes, trying to catch your breath. As you open your mouth to answer, he fists himself, shoving himself back into your mouth. You gag immediately and he pulls out, your mouth open as you try to breathe. He doesn’t let you, though, grabbing your jaw and spitting directly into your open mouth. 

“You better think twice before you complain.” 

You snap your jaw shut, swallowing thickly, your eyes popping back open to look up at him in shock. He gives you a crooked smile, pleased with the way he’s managed to throw you off. It only encourages him as you look up at him with wide eyes and try to catch your breath. He quirks a single brow, then runs his tongue over his teeth. 

“Nothing to say?” he asks, challenging you. You shake your head once.

He pushes the head of himself back inside your mouth, then spits again, making you flinch as it lands on your cheek. You squeeze your eyes closed, intending to hollow out your cheeks and suck, but he pulls himself out with a pop and drags his cock through the spit on your face, chuckling. 

“You’re starting to smarten up.” he mumbles. “Little brat.”

He taps the tip of his cock harshly against your lips and you can see the wheels spinning in his head as he plans his next move. “Back on the bed, all fours.” he says, snapping his fingers and pointing to the center of the bed.

You immediately pull yourself from your aching knees and scramble onto the bed, positioning yourself on all fours, just as instructed. You feel the bed dip behind you and you turn your head, seeing the remnants of the condom still intact around him. He makes no effort to remove it, wearing it like a trophy as his hands find your hips. His left hand slides up the curve of your back before pressing a palm to your spine, a silent order to arch a little further. 

“You’re trembling. You want it so bad don’t you…” he growls, his tip brushing against your entrance. “Want to feel my nice warm cock inside you…Nothing but me and you…You’d like that wouldn’t you, baby…”

“Yes.” you breathe, almost a whisper.

“I shouldn’t…I should put a new one on right now.” he says, the clench of his jaw audible. 

He thrusts himself inside of you, the barrier of latex gone between the two of you, letting you feel every ripple and vein of his perfect cock inside of you. It nearly takes your breath away as his hips slam into you. A groan leaves his chest as his hands grip into your hips, and you can feel his hot breath on your back.

His hips crash violently into yours, his pillow soft tip grazing your cervix with every stroke. He’s struggling to keep his composure, it's evident with his erratic breathing and the stuttering of his hips. 

You clench around him, a whimper falling from his lips in response, briefly breaking the facade he’s chosen for the evening. “Fuck, Y/N… I– I fucking hate you. You drive me fucking crazy, you know that?”

A pang shoots through your chest, you feel the tension in your stomach start to build as you flutter around him. “I hate that I can’t live without you. I hate how much I love you. You–I can’t deny you anything…Not ever…” he pauses, his chest heaving. “Can’t you see that?”

“Josh…” you beg through panting breaths. 

“Not yet, you’re gonna wait. Wait until I say, yeah? Can you wait like my good girl?” he says, struggling to stave off his own release. 

“I– I can’t…” you whine. 

“You will.” he demands, punctuating his sentence with his hips. “Fuck, you feel so good, swear to god I’m gonna– fuck…”

“Josh please, please!” you beg, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. 

“My little slut begging to cum, oh you’re a fucking vision… My angel…” he pauses, sliding his hand around your waist and pinching your nipple between his fingers. You tighten around him and you hear him hiss in response. “Oh goddamn, you’re not a fucking angel though, are you… You’re straight from hell.”

His hips start to falter, and you can tell he’s close. You turn your head to look at him, his hair wild and sweaty against his temples, his jaw hanging slack as he watches himself fuck you. His eyes flick up to meet yours, they are dark and his pupils are wide as a slight smile turns his lips. 

“I know I said I was going to get mine first, but you’ve been such a good girl for me. Go on, cum baby. Cum right on my cock, wanna feel you give yourself to me.” he says, nodding his head. 

His permission throws you right up into the sky, your release washing over you so forcefully that your arms give out below you, sending you tumbling into the sheets. His hands hold you up as he continues to fuck you through it, curses and praise falling from his swollen pink lips. 

As if your bliss fueled his own, you feel him pull your hips back firmly against him, a groan exploding from his chest once he can’t hold on any longer. You feel his cock twitching, his release beginning to spill inside of you as your name falls from his lips. You clench around him and he rapidly pulls out of you, fisting his cock as his cum continues to spill, painting hot white streams across your back. 

The room is quiet, just the sounds of the two of you attempting to catch your breath. His hand slides up over the curve of your ass, his fingertips catching a drip of his cum before it falls to the sheets below you. His hand reaches around smearing his fingers across your lips, and you can hear him snickering as he leaves his release behind. “A much better shade on you, darling.”

With a smack of your ass you feel him step off of the bed, padding towards the bathroom. “Stay there, don’t move. I don’t want a mess on the sheets.”

You stay put, frozen as you lean down on your elbows and rest your chin in your palm. He comes back out of the bathroom a moment later in his robe and saunters to the stairs. You hear his footsteps slowly descending the steps, the occasional squeak indicating how far away he is. 

You figure he’s heading to get you a towel from the dryer, so you just sigh and bide your time, feeling the wetness on your back start to get a little cold as the air moves through the room. In the silence, you hear a cabinet opening… then a cup being placed on the counter. Your lips part in shock as you realize he’s downstairs making a drink while he leaves you here, messy and exposed. The cherry on top of the punishment he’s dealt you this evening.

It’s a good, long while before he comes back up the stairs, again, at a leisurely pace. He softly pads across the room, then steps into your line of sight, putting a mug down on the nightstand. He made himself a cup of tea? 

You sigh, looking at him flatly, a little tired of the game at this point. He steps into the bathroom again, this time reemerging with a warm, wet towel. He approaches the bed and kneels over you, gently wiping you clean as silence settles over you both.

“I made you some tea. In case I was a little rough on your throat.” he says quietly. “I figured I owe you a drink after throwing yours into the bushes.” His tone conveys that he’s remorseful, his voice back to its unique, charming timbre. “Listen, I didn’t mean to get so… worked up. You were right when you said I was threatened by Sam, and I just kind of lost control.” 

You hum softly, resting your head on the pillow and looking at him over your shoulder, your eyes soft and tired.

“I’m sorry I pushed you that far…” you say quietly, your voice hoarse. He tosses the towel towards the hamper, standing from the bed. He leans down and places a kiss to your temple as you lay all the way down, just as your back starts to hurt.

You hear him opening your dresser drawer and soon enough he’s back at your side, placing a set of silky, cream colored pajamas and a pair of underwear near your head. He kneels at your bedside, resting his head on the bed to look at you where you lay.

“I picked these out for you when we were in Glasgow. There was this little boutique near the hotel that caught my eye. It was after dinner one night and I tried to call you but the time difference was making a mess of things…I couldn’t get ahold of you and I was just feeling lonely… so I took a walk and decided to pop in. I saw them and thought of you immediately. Thought of how they’d feel when I got back home and in bed with you.” he confesses, petting your hair the whole time he speaks. There’s almost a sadness to this story that makes guilt bubble up in your chest. You accused him of never calling, rarely thinking of you, and sending his assistant off to buy you meaningless gifts. The thought of him hand picking it for you while he was feeling lonely thousands of miles away breaks your heart.  

“I’m sorry I said all that stuff. About the gifts. That was admittedly pretty awful of me.” you squeak out, feeling ashamed of the way you acted and who you painted him to be. “I’ve been really hard on you.”

“Hard on me?” he asks, a breathy laugh rumbling through him.

“I just… I haven’t been really considerate about your ear and the stress you’re under and I think I’ve been feeling neglected in a way, so instead of trying to fix it, it was just easier to put all of the blame on you and lose sight of the sacrifices you make for me every day. For us.” 

He shakes his head, unwilling to let you accept all the blame. “I haven’t exactly made things easy on you…” he says, his voice a little small. “I think–no, I know I can do more. I will do more. I fucked up yesterday baby, and I’m sorry. I should have planned something nice. You deserve that. And I’m sorry about tonight, fuck, I’m just sorry for all of it. I love you and I need you and I’m just really, really sorry.”

He stands from his place on the side of the bed, watching you as you slide into your silky pajamas. He tosses his robe to your vanity chair and joins you on the other side of the bed, pulling back the linen sheets and sliding in next to you. 

“I’m sorry too. I’m sorry I was a brat, and I’m sorry I used Sam to get under your skin. I just– I wanted your attention…and I know it was stupid and immature… I just needed to know you still cared, even just a little bit. I wanted to see it.” you pause, looking into his dark brown eyes. 

“And last night, you just wanted a night in and I was…less than agreeable. I wish we could do it over. You just wanted your comfort food and your favorite movie, home alone with me…but I couldn’t see that. I know you’re hurting. I know you’re doing your best and I’m sorry I was ungrateful. I’m happy that you were even home. I’m happy I can take care of you while you’re here.” you say, moving closer to him in the middle of the bed. “I missed you last night…”

He props himself up on his elbow, his cheeks still a little pink from earlier, and in the dim light of the lamp he is glowing. “I missed you too baby, I knew I fucked up before I even got out of the room. I should have never said that to you. Not ever. Can you forgive me?” he asks, letting his free hand slide across the sheets and grab yours. 

“Can you forgive me?” you ask, letting your glassy eyes meet his.

“Baby…” the word is a breath from his lips. You reach for him as he wraps his arms around you. You cradle his head in the crook of your neck as he breathes you in and you know all is forgiven between the two of you. You scratch his scalp and pet his velvety shaved sides, holding him close enough that you can feel his heart beating. 

“Can I make you that soup you like tomorrow? With the kale and the carrots…” you ask, a whisper against his temple. You feel him nod, a small hum leaving his chest. 

“And I still have that sourdough starter that Jake gave us… I can make some bread with it? Does that sound good?” you ask, feeling his grip on you tighten. 

“Oh my god, that starter. Have you been feeding it like he said!? I completely forgot!” he gasps.

You laugh hard enough that it shakes your chest, “Of course I have. He would be so sad if I let it die.”

You feel his body relax against you again, “Do you know how much I love you?” he asks, turning his head to face you. 

You feel your skin blush as he looks at you, his eyes full of adoration. “A lot?”

“More than that.” he smiles, his cheek dimple peeking out just a touch. You can hardly stop yourself from pressing your lips to it, your favorite thing. 

“I love you, alot.” you reply, peppering his face with kisses. 

“But there is something that I want to talk to you about…” he says, his voice growing a little more serious. 

“W-what?” you ask nervously, pulling away just a little. 

“I know you’ve been so excited about coming to Spain in a few weeks…And I’ve really been looking forward to it too…” he starts, and you feel your heart drop. Is it canceled? Does he not want you to come?

“Yeah…” you breathe, anxious to hear what he’s about to say.

“So, you know it’s been a long time since we’ve toured over there, and our normal coordinator isn’t able to make it, so we are using a secondary coordinator…It really throws a wrench into everything. Things are going to be really shaky those first few days with the jet lag and all of that. I just– I know that it’s gonna be super crazy, and I feel like we probably won’t be able to spend much time together while we get the tour stuff sorted out.” he pauses, and you feel your eyes well with tears. “I just don’t want you to come and feel ignored...”

“So I’m not–” 

His face softens as he brings his hand up to cup your cheek, “So, I went ahead and booked us flights to go a whole week early, just me and you. Found us a quiet little place on the water right outside of Barcelona. It has a big open porch and a giant bed. It’s so beautiful and I know you’re going to love it. We can do whatever you want, just you and I.” He kisses your forehead before he continues. 

“And before you ask, yes, your boss already knows. I wanted to surprise you when we left, but I figured you would be suspicious that the rest of the guys wouldn’t be with us in the airport. I was planning to tell you tonight when we got home, but we saw what happened…” he smiles, his eyes positively sparkling. “So, how does that sound, my love? Will you come with me?”

Tears rush to your eyes. You were so prepared to be disappointed again that they were already on their way and this sealed the deal.

“That sounds so perfect,” you manage to squeak out as he wipes away an errant tear sliding down towards your pillow. When he pulls you in for a tender kiss, you can feel him smiling against your lips. “My coworkers are going to kill me for going on a two week vacation during tax season…”

“I’m sure they’ll be okay.” he says, brushing it off with a soft laugh. “They probably ate your strawberries yesterday, so you can call it even.” You suck your teeth at that, lips parting in shock.

“They better not have! I’m out for one day and the wolves descend?”

“I’m sure they’ll be there waiting for you Monday.” He soothes, pulling the sheets and comforter up higher over the both of you, pulling you in close as his little spoon. “But just in case… Maybe we can get some melting chocolate at the store tomorrow and make our own for dessert?” he mumbles softly. 

“Oh, I’d love that…” you say, pleasantly surprised at his effort already. He holds you tight, nuzzling into your hair. His hands are soft and warm as they sneak up under the silky pajamas, a comforting touch after so many nights spent in this bed alone.

“It’s a date, my love.” 

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[chemicallywrit]

Happy Audio Drama Sunday! Last one of the year! There are so many amazing shows I listened to this year--Gastronaut, Kakos Industries, Madame Magenta, Dungeons & Daddies, Cry Havoc! Ask Questions Later, Bronzeville, Deviser, Ghosts in the Burbs, The Silt Verses, Fall of the House of Sunshine, The Ballad of Anne and Mary, Eliza: A Robot Story, Eeler's Choice, Hemophobia--this list isn't even comprehensive! But here is what stood out to me this week. (As always, some spoilers follow.)

🦸‍♂️ I've had Superhuman Public Radio on my radar for a while, but I finally got a chance to listen to it this week. For lack of a better way of putting it, the structural integrity of this show is flawless. It sounds exactly like listening to NPR, and it's funny and clever with some really incredible worldbuilding. It's everything I like about listening to local news without the stress of it being local news that affects me. I love it.

✨ I'm also new to Breathing Space, but the Firefly vibes are off the charts. I love any story that is basically just Anticapitalists in Space, but the western vibes of this really make the stories hit home. I especially liked S1E2, "A Rat Among Falcons," because who doesn't love a scruffy nobody being incorporated into a found family? S1E5, "The Salvage of the Valentina Tereshkova" was also a really excellent space horror story. I can't wait to see what they do next. And that theme song tho, right??

❤️‍🩹 @thefringespod has been making incredible use of their new full cast, and I love the twist that this season is driving home--it's not a story presented to you, the listener, it's a tragedy that the mute second character is helping to undo. The softness of the family that Pine Gonzalez spent the whole first season describing comes through beautifully in the work of the actors.

🌊 Modes of Thought In Anterran Literature is always a little bit unnerving, but this week our professor faced the horrors of...rich people. Like, REALLY rich people. "You're already paying for private security?" Absolutely chilling conversations. There was a headline this week about a bunch of Silicon Valley millionaires trying to start a utopia in the desert, which works great all the time of course, and I thought of Anterra, tearing itself apart, and about the professor, who doesn't exactly make great choices, tearing himself apart too.

🐺 Things are getting very scary on Palimpsest! Is this a werewolf season?? It is VERY gothic, which is fun in a Jazz Age setting. It feels incongruous, which just adds to the horror. The quiet build of Palimpsest never disappoints me.

📦 Bless those children on @storiesfromylelmore, they're so darn good. ItMe has always been excellent at writing along the span of human nature, and seeing them do it with the three kids in Stories from Ylelmore is wonderful. Of course, a lot of the credit has to go to ItMe's flawless line delivery too. The kids feel very real, even while they're delivering magical packages from a bookstore to the head of the local witch coven.

🐦 The Amelia Project's Twelve Days of Christmas thing has been so funny. I half hope we never find out who's tormenting Alvina. The only downside is that now I have the song stuck in my head constantly, and seeing that it's like, the second-worse Christmas song, this is a problem. The show's worth it, though.

🕯️ What should appear in my podcatcher this morning but the second episode of Flickers! I was intrigued by that first episode, and this second one is really bringing home the isolationist horror. I can't wait for the next installment.

👽 Among the Stars and Bones is coming back! It's coming back this month! This is one of my all-time favorite sci-fi shows, everyone, if you're not on board yet then GET WITH IT, because this next season is guaranteed to blow your mind.

That's what I've been listening to! Here's what's going on with me:

🧟‍♀️ The Dead has been posting episodes from its second series, Ephemeris, which I wish we could have spent more time on, because the premise is so good. Zombies. In. Space. My gosh. David Ault and Kayla Temshiv in particular are killing it on this story. It'll be a few weeks before our next story premiers, but I'm REALLY excited about that one. Tune in!

Finally, the most important news...

💚Inn Between Returns on Wednesday!🏹

AAAAAAAAAAAAA

I am THRILLED about season five. The cast is killer, the story is fantastic, everyone's bringing their A-game, and I can't wait for you to hear it.

That's all for me! Happy New Year everyone!

(If you like what I do, I'd love it if you could send me a ko-fi! Especially since my car just frikkin. Died. So rude of it. Thanks!)

#superhuman public radio #breathing space podcast #tales from the fringes #modes of thought in anterran literature #palimpsest #stories from ylelmore #the amelia project #flickers podcast #among the stars and bones #the dead podcast #inn between #audio drama sunday #audio drama #audio fiction #fiction podcast

[btr-rewatch]

Big Time Rush Season 1, Episode 2: “Big Time Crib”

It's nice to be in the "real" series now! I thought I was going to be stuck reviewing episode one forever.

Highlights: Shenanigans abound, Bandana Man makes his first appearance, and the guys get an apartment makeover.

We begin at the Palm Woods pool, where the guys have just returned from an exhausting day of rehearsals. Before they can get any time to relax, they're kicked out on account of a dog food commercial being filmed there. Several of the commercial's crew members pick up the boys and deposit them into the Palm Woods lobby.

I happened to pause the episode here to write that above paragraph and had to screenshot it. I'd mentioned in the previous post how I remember there being a clear pairing of Kendall & Logan and then James & Carlos, and whaddya know? There it is again. Also, I like Kendall and Logan's matching poses.

Since it's after 9pm, Bitters kicks them out of the lobby, leaving the boys no choice but to retreat to their ugly apartment. I totally forgot that 2J looked terrible in the beginning!

Also, the theme song! It's been so long since I've seen this opening theme song. So fun. Really brings back memories of my dad walking into the room and going, "This silly show again?"

YES, DAD.

The boys are upset that they're stuck in a dump while other residents get much nicer accommodations. Bitters attempts to point out all the positives of their apartment, but it doesn't sway the guys. Moments after Bitters leaves, a pipe bursts, and Carlos responds to it in a way only Carlos can.

This brings back another vague memory of the times my dad would sometimes sit and watch BTR with me and ask, "What's wrong with him?" whenever Carlos did, like...anything, lol.

The guys need a better place to live, and they get a glimpse of that possibility the following day at Rocque Records when they see a drawing of an apartment set that's going to be used in an upcoming promotional video. Griffin wants each of them interviewed for it.

James thinks they should all wear bandanas. This is another thing I'd forgotten about; James had a bandana obsession. I do remember Bandana Man!

The reaction on their faces to James's suggestion is great.

Not gonna happen, James. Keep dreaming.

After the meeting, the guys get right to scheming on how to get the set built in their apartment instead. Well, it's mostly Kendall doing the scheming. Logan thinks it's never going to work, James thinks bandanas will somehow solve their problems, and Carlos is just along for the ride.

They end up recruiting Camille to help with their plan, and she instructs the builders of the set to bring it to the Palm Woods instead. Logan impersonates Griffin (against his will) and then voices his displeasure at this whole entire plan. He does not want to get into trouble. But, like...shouldn't he be used to it? This is what you sign up for when you decide to be friends with Kendall, James, and Carlos.

We hear the "Logie" nickname for the first time in this episode!

Logan points out that a major problem with their plan is that Mrs. Knight is certainly going to take notice of a bunch of people in the apartment from 11-3. We cut immediately to Mrs. Knight informing the boys that she's going to be out job-hunting the following day from 11-3. Cue Kendall throwing Logan this look:

Logan, don't you know by now that things always end up working out for Kendall?

The guys end up getting the interviews moved to the Palm Woods pool and proceed to split up in order to tackle the remaining tasks. And I must say that one of my favorite moments is when Kelly goes to check on how the set is coming and we get that little scene of Carlos and Katie in the studio just making construction sounds.

This is one of those scenes that's lived rent-free in my head for 13 years for some reason. I've forgotten so much about this show, but Carlos sitting there running the power tools and hammering that pile of wood boards earned a reserved place in my brain. I don't know why. But it's a scene that has popped into my thoughts every so often over the years.

Meanwhile, at James's interview...

This show is peak comedy.

Lots of shenanigans happen from here, and for a moment, it looks like the plan is going to fall apart. James Bandana Man saves the day by locking Bitters in a supply closet that, for some reason, has a very simple latch lock on the outside??

This makes absolutely zero sense. For what reason would you choose this type of lock for a supply closet? Literally anyone can open it?? This is serving no purpose.

Anyway! The guys get their super cool new crib installed, they film their music video, and Gustavo has the crew immediately take the set apart and revert the apartment back to its previous state. Sadness once again reigns supreme in 2J.

Their video and interviews are a success, but Gustavo still needs his dogs to face consequences for all their sneakiness. He has them practice harmonies for ten hours with no breaks, which sounds illegal to me?? The boys are only 16, right? Idk, this feels like it's violating some kind of law. Needless to say, they're all tired and bummed when they arrive home. That is, until they see that their apartment has been transformed back!

Gustavo explains that it's a "bone" being thrown to them but not to expect any more. Kelly notes that Gustavo likes the boys but he insists that he does not. Yeah, right. Gustavo loves his dogs.

And that's where the episode ends. It's an enjoyable one for sure—lots of funny moments. Totally different feel to "Big Time Audition" though, and I'm already mourning the loss of Original Kendall. He was still scheming and manipulative in this, but it was in a purely goofy way. There was none of that "fire" that we saw several times in BTA. No edge. First Episode Kendall had an edge. Why has the edge been smoothed away by EPISODE 2?? Does it come back in some spots during the series? I can't remember. I still love him, though.

ok, the end.

#big time rush #btr #btr rewatch #btr season 1 #kendall knight #carlos garcia #james diamond #logan mitchell

[onyourowndaisymae]

obey me brothers as taylor swift fans pt. 1

what's their favorite album? their favorite songs? are they a vocal fan or is taylor a guilty pleasure of theirs?

characters included: Lucifer, Mammon, and Leviathan

i have. so many thoughts on this. i had to expel this from my brain before it drove me nuts. part 2 will include the younger brothers. i will probably make a part 3 with the dateables once i think on it a little longer. my credentials: i've been a swiftie since the debut/fearless era, so i know my shit. obey me swifties rise up

content warning: very brief discussions of death

Lucifer: The Evermore Fan

let it be known that this is not his fault.

lucifer really only listens to his beloved classical vinyl records. he's not one to keep up with musicians, especially not musicians from the human world.

he spent one afternoon retrieving asmodeus from a coffee shop in town. it was a quaint little establishment known for incorporating touches from both the human and celestial realms into its theming. the cozy, bookish sitting area wasn't exactly where he expected his flamboyant younger brother to be, but to each their own.

an unfamiliar song from the human world played over the speakers of the coffee house. a low, pleasant female voice drifted through the murmurs of the coffee shop. lucifer didn't stick around for very long-- he only a small snippet of the music that day. then why was he still thinking about it more than a week later?

he couldn't get that damn song. out. of. his. head.

he's tapping his pen against his desk to the rhythm. the snippet of the lyrics he caught is playing on repeat while he does the laundry. it's driving him absolutely fucking nuts.

through a few nonchalant questions and some digging in his free time, he finally got the name of the song and the artist (note: it was willow). with a bit more finagling, he finally got his hands on a vinyl for the deluxe version of evermore.

he finds an evening where all of his brothers are out of the house, pours himself a glass of demonus, and puts the vinyl on. at the very least, even if he hates it, he can at least purge the song from his head that'd been lingering for the past few weeks.

... it's a much better record than he expected.

something about the combination of the earthy instrumentals and the artist's heavenly alto really soothes the soul.

the evermore vinyl becomes one of his favorites-- one that he keeps stashed at the back of a cabinet, of course. he had no interest in hearing any questions his brothers might have if they happened to find it in his office.

the complexities of the melodies and the poetic lyrics speak to him. he has a particular fondness for marjorie-- a song about losing a loved one and carrying them with you as you continue on in life. i don't feel the need to spell out why he likes this one in particular.

evermore is an album lucifer never thought he'd find, nor did he believe he'd enjoy. but now it's become a good record to turn to when he's alone and has a free night to himself. he might not know much about the artist (she is a human world musician, after all, and he's much too busy to keep up with human culture), but he holds such fondness for this soothing autumn-y record.

favorite songs: champagne problems, marjorie, evermore (feat. bon iver)

Mammon: The Reputation Fan

mammon, like his brother asmo, prides himself on keeping in touch with all the latest trends that pass through the devildom. after the exchange program began, a renewed interest in human pop culture took roots in RAD.

very few pieces actually stuck, but mammon took it upon himself to get cozy with all that lame human stuff. he has a lame human back at home, y'know? what kind of friend would he be if he didn't at least know a little about what's popular up above? so he spends a free afternoon digging through the newspaper's recent post on devilgram about what humans supposedly like.

... taylor swift, huh? well, mammon isn't going to deny that she's hot. especially in that sparkly black leotard on stage... what, is that like, a tour or something? is she popular enough to tour? this is... the reputation tour. huh. seems interesting enough.

what started as interest through thirst quickly became interest in earnest as he watched some of the tour performances. he's like a crow, drawn in by flashy lights and sparkles. this little endeavor, originally meant to take no more than an hour or two, ate up the rest of his night.

suddenly it's 2am on a thursday night-- he's supposed to be asleep, yet here he is, deeply entrenched in the reputation lore. what a jerk that kanye guy is, interrupting her on stage like that! then to lie about her on social media with that fake phone call-- oohh! he's pissed! mammon ends up more mad about the taylor drama than taylor herself. it's been years. people have moved on (another day, another drama, drama). not him, though (all he thinks about is karma).

we all know that mammon, despite all appearances, is a massive simp. so it makes sense that he would really like an album full of love songs. reputation is an album about falling in love at your lowest, about someone finding you broken and loving you through it all. he's a sucker for that sort of messaging.

this obsession-- stanship, fan behavior, whatever you'd like to call it-- is, of course, private. he's a cool, slick casanova. unfortunately for taylor, she doesn't quite mesh with that image. no worries, though. their connection is strong, even if it is kept just between them. (she's his ruri-chan)

reputation holds a special place in his heart because it's the moment when taylor finally finds her one true love (which he found through his intensive research) and accepts being the fear and happiness that comes along with it-- what? no! he's not crying! there's just... dust in his eye! yeah! dust in his eye, and new year's day just happens to be playing, coincidentally, totally unrelated--

so his interest might have started out surface-level. he might have been drawn in by flashing lights and glitter (plus the appeal of understand the human's culture better than his brothers), but by the end of it all, mammon is a certified swiftie. not that he'd ever admit it, though.

favorite songs: don't blame me, king of my heart, call it what you want

Leviathan: The Fearless Fan

... hear me out. i'm well aware this is sort of an odd choice, but i stand by it.

leviathan doesn't really... date. like at all. he's very content fixating on his 2D waifus and distancing himself from normie stuff. and that's all fine and good. but those times when he lifts his head up from his game to see his brothers getting close with others, while he locks himself in his room and shuts everyone out? it stings a little.

you remember that old rudolph movie, the one with the little blonde elf dentist? specifically, his line "you can't fire me, i quit!" in one of the songs? i promise i have a point here

i feel like levi has that sort of complex about love. i think there's a hopeless romantic somewhere deep in there, buried under all the layers of deflection he uses to keep everyone out.

all of this to say: he loves old taylor swift music.

taylor's early works revolve around the highs and lows of young love, woven together in fantastical stories that cast a rose-colored light. levi lives vicariously through this music.

it actually fits him well because he can experience the complex emotions of love packed into a three minute song, all from the comfort of his room and without fear of rejection!

that being said: if anyone were to catch him jamming out to taylor swift in his bedroom, he'd end it all right then and there.

he's very careful to hide this interest from his brothers. anime? video games? sure, they can understand that. but girly, lovey-dovey taylor swift? they'd never let him hear the end of it!

make no mistake, though-- he is a diehard fan. he watches her live performances on deviltube. he knows all her biggest hits. he'd have merch if any of it was subtle.

fearless is his favorite album because it throws itself into being hopelessly, passionately, clumsily in love. he admires how unashamed it is to be so, y'know... normie. cringe, in his eyes. vulnerability? yikes!

he likes the love songs best. sure, there are plenty of good breakup songs on fearless, but he's here to imagine himself lost in young love, not getting dumped. he likes the idea of romantic tension, of dancing in the rain, of friends finally becoming lovers after secretly pining for one another for ages-- especially that last one. he hopes one day he might get caught in a friends-to-lovers plot and fall in love with someone he knows like the back of his hand.

levi knows he is a simple hopeless romantic. but when he plugs his headphones in and turns on taylor's music, he feels, just for a moment, like maybe the pursuit of romance isn't so hopeless after all.

favorite songs: fearless, love story, you belong with me

[psst... yeah, you. did you want a link to the spotify playlist? here it is. it already has the songs for part 2 on there, so beware of spoilers for the next post!]

#obey me (taylor's version) #this took for fucking ever #but i think we're once again approaching magnum opus territory #i have so many thoughts #and feelings #i could go on all day #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me leviathan #otome #taylor swift #obey me swifties hit my fuckin line

[boredandwiredkitty]

Listening to old favorite songs and getting some inspiration to write again.

For the longest time ever and and still a bit now I've been into omegaverse. Found some of my favorite kinks from it. Im a little ashamed to admit. I always wanted to incorporate it into some of my own fics and have made a few but I have yet to publish any of them. Maybe I will after this one.

I also highly recommend listening to the song as you read my little drabble. You don't have to but it might help you see the headspace I went in while writing. I really wanted to explore a bit more of the feral side of wheeljack. What if you both tried to deny what you both wanted. That push and pull. It all began as one scene in my head and the song morphed it into the whole fic that you see.

This is part one since I accidentally made it too damn long of a two part story

As always Minors DNI! This is a 18+ rated fic with NSFW! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

This fic does contain most omegaverse themes so if you're adverse to that this might not be for you.

Reader is AFAB if you're wondering.

Heavy panting and heavy footfalls were the only things you could hear over your pounding spark.

Stuck again in the same dream that you get time to time. You were always running. You weren't quite sure why. Was it to something? Was it from something? Was it both? Only the pull in your chest urged you forward. Unsure if it was fear or inclination.

Just as you were about to stop and turn to see if something was behind you the rug was pulled from under you. Abruptly feeling the sensation of falling.

You awoke with a jolt. Clutching the bed underneath you confirming your stability. You were not falling nor needing to run. Everything's fine.

Sort of.

You only got that dream periodically. Right around every time your body goes through a particular change.

The limiters were off and all hell was about to break loose.

As familiar symptoms began to creep throughout your frame trepidation mixed with it.

You couldn't calm your rapid spark as your internal temp was faintly yet steadily rising. The damn dream was always a warning. A premonition of sorts.

"Please dont" You murmured to yourself. Though it was futile. You didn't know how to stop it once it was set in motion. Especially without outside help.

But who were you going to ask? With such sensitive information no less? Was there anyone you trusted enough to ask for help from? Let alone even know HOW to help you?

It was the early hours of morning before the world seemed to wake up. Dawn had yet to break over the horizon. It wasn't much time but just enough to either find help or put enough distance between yourself and a certain other.

You weakly swung your legs over the side of the bed. Becoming even more aware of your incoming heat. You even wondered if it was coming too fast.

Did shockwave have something to do with this?

The first couple of times this happened was back in shockwaves lab. Every time you started showing noticeable signs he would quickly administer some sort of drug and it would seem to vanish without a trace.

The first time it happened you were obviously concerned and immediately went to the scientist with complaints of your new alarming symptoms. The uncomfortable warmth paired with mental fog and a strange urge that burned through your body. The urge to go looking for someone so strong it overpowered everything else. You didn't know who or what but you felt like you had to find what your body needed so desperately. A feeling like you absolutely depended on it for survival.

The unconcerned tank mech only stared at you in response with his one glaring red optic when you approached him that day. Only to turn silently and cluncked to a place in the lab to began working on something. Not bothering to utter a single word to you. Not too long after he arrived with a needle loaded up what you guessed was more energon mixed with something else due to its ever so slight opaqueness.

You squirmed and questioned how he couldn't just make it into something you could drink.

"This is more effective. Injecting it directly into your bloodstream will nullify your heat immediately."

"Heat?" You asked him incredulously as he pushed the plunger carefully.

"Yes. It seems are you are beginning your first heat cycle. No matter, I have made a temporary cure for your cycle and you shall be back to normal operation in a moment."

You winced as the fluid entered your body. You hated the invasive cold feeling of liquid forcefully entering your veins. "Will it be gone permanently?"

"No. It will only prevent symptoms this cycle. Do not worry. Your systems are still functional. You just are no longer under the affects."

"Great to hear." You stated sarcastically as he moved away to go back to his current project. He was looking at a strand of CNA next to a strand of human DNA. Probably another part of your cyberformation project.

After that every heat you had; depending on how quickly your symptoms set in; he would either give you the injection or a ingestable variation. You hated the injections but you had to admit it was much nicer that relief was almost instant. The medicine would take much longer and sometimes waiting for the symptoms to dissappear was unbearable. You would not let yourself drop to degrading levels around the emotionless logic fueled scientist. You would rather die before it got to that point.

Now you sat up in the darkness of your room back at autobot headquarters. Without shockwave or any medication to get through this.

You wanted to ask ratchet for help but you didn't know if he had anything to help you or even knew how to make it. Given your circumstances it was probably only shockwave that knew.

Ratchet knew of your technorganic body but he was still learning of all its ins and outs. It was only fairly recently that you showed him shockwaves handiwork. You were patient as he would carefully examine you and run different tests to see the extent of the cyberformation. But you doubted if he knew anything about your current predicament.

You stiffly got up. There's no harm at trying.

You walked out in the dimness of the base and found the medic looking over some files.

"Hey ratchet." You quietly called out to him careful not to startle the poor older mech.

His helm quickly turned to you noticing your weary looking frame. "What are you doing up?"

You suddenly felt bashful. "I um." You squirmed under his worried gaze. "I'm getting my heat cycle. And I'm hoping you could help me."

The flush over his face made you realize you should've been more clear. "I do not think I would be the right mech for such a task. Why don't you ask w-" He began before you cut him off from saying his name.

"Nonono! That's not what I'm saying. Can you give me some medicine to alleviate the symptoms?!" You exclaimed while waving your arms frantically in front of you.

"You want me to make a medicine?" He queried.

"Yes. That's what I meant," You confirmed back.

Ratchet stood there in deep thought for a moment. Murmuring to himself before looking back up at you.

"I'd hate to ask but what would shockwave do when this would happen? Or is this the first time?"

You shook your head. "Shockwave had different remedies. Sometimes it was an injection. Sometimes it was a medicine that I would drink. It depended on how bad the symptoms were." You told him truthfully. Hopeful he would find something.

"What exactly are your symptoms?"

Your eyes darkened. What a unpleasant question.

While you spent your time here you noticed something you never would've back at the lab. Something you would only have realized once EXPOSED to it.

The mech that plagued you. That you were injected with their energon. Repeatedly. Invading your veins to begin the cyberforming process. Their biomatter mixed with yours. How your body called out to theirs as if they were a homing beacon. You were a moth and they were the flame.

You took a deep breath. Attempting to calm your fretful spark. Trying to figure out how to tell him. "I start to feel a bit feverish." You began and ratchet nodded at you in acknowledgement. Silently urging you to keep going. "I get mental fog. My body feels a bit weaker than usual," You continued. Watching as ratchet was listening intently to every word you said.

Ratchet gazed at you probingly as you stopped listing anything else. "Is that all? Are you sure you're not having any other symptoms than that? Because if that were the case it could be something else besides a heat cycle."

You scowled. "No" you grumbled. Feeling defeated at confessing this out loud.

You raised your head to look ratchet better in the optics. "I get the most desperate and embarrassing URGE for a certain autobot."

You watched his optics widen a bit. "Who is it?"

You bit your lip as you felt a sudden tug in your spark. "Who do you think?" You snapped defensively.

Ratchet nodded in understanding. "I'll see what I can do but I cannot guarantee that I will have anything ready by the time you fully get your heat. In that case what do you want me to do?" His voice was professional. Like any medical practitioner.

"Send me away." You quickly spoke with a sweep of your arm. "Just get me out of here before something happens! I don't care where. Hell, inject me with whatever concoction you come up with! Anything to stop this heat from happening! I'll even drink the nastiest medicine you make!"

Ratchet jolted back aghast. "Are you sure that's what you want? Do you not want to try anything else?"

You nodded solemnly, "What other choice do I have? I don't want to inflict my heat on anyone else."

"Has it affected anyone before?"

You wrinkled your nose in thought. "Not that I'm aware. It never really seemed to bother shockwave. But that mech is rather stoic so it's hard to tell. Maybe the vehicons if I'm further in my heat but I'm usually isolated from most others."

Ratchet turned to start typing on his console. "That could either be because either you don't produce pheromones to attract other bots or.." He trailed off as he typed. Then looking over at the exit of the hangar. "That you affect only ONE mech. Given your symptoms that you described."

You choked on your spit and deadpanned. Currently the said mech was out on a mission. But when they come back what will happen? Will he be unaffected or completely taken over and forced into rut? Was that something you wanted to take chances on? It was getting harder to tell as clouded thoughts started to flit through your mind. Maybe it would be interesting to see if he would react. But what then?...

"If you wish to stay somewhere else after they get back I'll be sure to move you before letting them return to base."

You nodded politely. "That would be preferable thank you."

With that ratchet extended a servo to which you climbed on as he took you to his medical work station.

You tried not to put up much of a fuss as he did various scans. Typing different things on his monitor.

"Will you be adverse to me taking an energon sample?" He asked gently.

You made a face. You hated injections and getting fluids drawn. "I'd prefer if you didnt." You grumbled honestly.

"Unfortunately it would be much harder to get an accurate suppressant made if I don't get all the information that is stored in your genetic makeup."

You grimaced. Aka he needed your blood. If he didn't have it it would be as useful as taking a shot in the dark. You really wanted to avoid needles as much as possible though.

Ratchet sensed your unease. Being shockwaves captive is no joke. He didn't want to think about what that mech put you through. "Don't worry. I'll apply the techniques that nurse Darby taught me in case I ever had to help with the kids."

He then activated his holoform and brought out a small kit for drawing blood. "I'll try to make this as painless as possible."

You tried to be still and not fight ratchet so much but you couldn't help but flinch away when he brought the needle close to your arm.

"Why don't I turn on the TV so you have something to distract yourself." He asked you gently while moving the needle away.

You tried to sit up straighter. "I don't know. I'm not used to having a distraction. I don't know if it will work."

"Here." Ratchet then removed his holoform and picked you up. Placing you on the couch and turned on the TV. Setting it to a low enough volume. "Do you want to talk about anything?"

You now we're settled next to ratchets holoform again as you faced the TV on the couch they had for the kids. Some early morning cartoons were playing that you remember seeing as a kid and felt a wave of nostalgia wash over you. A sense of familiarity as you stared at the screen.

"It's kinda hard to find anything to talk about anything right now." You gave a light chuckle. "The brain fog is slowly taking over." You confessed still focused on the TV.

"Is it bad?" He asked as he carefully pierced your skin with the needle and watched you wince.

You shook your head. "Not that bad yet. But I bet it's only going to get worse."

"Probably." Ratchet agreed as he continued focusing on drawing your energon mixed blood. "But I will do my best to prevent it."

"Thank you. I appreciate it."

"You're very welcome." He told you with a smile. "How are you feeling besides the heat? Any issues with the cyberforming?"

"None that I'm aware." You stated. Glancing over to look at him for a moment. Doing your best to not look down at what was happening with your arm.

"Well while I have a sample I'll be running some tests to make sure everything is doing alright. I'll probably have June look over at your panels as well."

"Sounds good" You told him. Noticing how he was already moving to stand up. "Done already?" You asked incredulously.

"Yep. Already got enough samples for testing. You're good to go."

Samples? As in plural? You looked down at your arm and saw a little bandaid, then to his hand where he held five vials of your mixed blood.

"No way!" You whispered in astonishment. Reaching out to hold one of the warm vials in your hand. "This is so trippy." You laughed as you lifted it up to examine it closer. Trying to use the light from the TV to see through the vial.

"Wasn't too bad was it?" Ratchet asked as you handed him back the vial.

"No you did good. But I wonder if me going into heat is particularly to blame. I think I'm starting to go mentally numb to my surroundings."

"I'm going to go start running the tests. You can sit here for now. Let me know if the symptoms get worse or if you need anything."

You nodded and watched as he left. You couldn't help but wonder why you didn't feel anything with anyone else. There was no pull. No longing. No lust. Nothing. Which you were thankful for. But you felt nervous how bad it would get with HIM in proximity while you were going into heat. His lingering scent was already making you feel the warmth between your legs.

"Maybe I will ask smokescreen to take me out somewhere to keep me out of the base." You mumbled to yourself. He was a good and trusted friend. With that thought and uncomfortable feeling coiled in your gut. Like the thought of being alone with someone else repulsed you. Which made no sense since you were fine being alone with ratchet. Maybe because the scenario is different?

You couldn't make heads or tails of it. It was getting harder to think deeply. So you just relaxed as you started to watch the next show that played. Numbing your mind to everything but the screen infront of you.

As you went through different episodes the more you felt the warmth radiating from your body. Did your spark always sound this loud? What were you doing again?

You moved to stand up but then remembered you were waiting on ratchet. How much longer till he would be done? How long do normal cybertronian heats last? How long does it usually take for symptoms to get bad?

You were about to call out to him to ask when you realized he had already been calling your name.

You blinked at him. "Um, yes?" You asked stupidly.

"They are requesting to return to base. Do you want to go somewhere real quick?"

Your mind lagged. Go?... Go where? Where will you go? Making a decision felt difficult.

Your mouth fell open but no words came to mind. "I dont....." you trailed off. You couldn't think. All you could think about was how uncomfortable you felt and how your clothes felt too warm. You wanted to cool off. A cold shower sounded nice right now.

"Shower" You told him.

Ratchet looked at you incredulously. "What?.. nevermind," Ratchet sighed shaking his helm. it seemed your heat was coming on faster than expected. It was only a matter of time before you would be incoherent. He needed to find somewhere for you to stay in the meantime. but housing a technorganic in heat would be no easy feat. Considering this would be your first time fully going into heat. Who knows how your body would handle it. He wanted to keep you close by to check on you. Since it was obvious you weren't producing any pheromones that affected him. He was your physician and he wanted to help in any way he could.

He quickly picked you up and activated the ground bridge. Rushing you out to the barracks to get washed up. Maybe a hygiene ritual will help cool your symptoms. Even if for a bit. At the very least it would dampen the intensity of your pheromones for short amount of time.

He set you down. "Let me know if you need anything else. I will have Fowler be helping you." And with that he swiftly dissapeared back to the hangar.

You blinked as you just staired at the direction he went. Your mind trying to keep up. What just happened?

You shook your head and slapped your cheeks. Trying to regain your senses.

Shower. You were here to shower.

You went inside and found a stall. Pulling the curtain you stripped your clothes and hung them on the divider wall. Maybe a shower will help. You could only wish silently to yourself as you turned the knob.

Back at base ratchet arrived as everyone was stepping through the bridge. First Magnus strutted in. Looking completely unaffected followed by smokescreen who also seemed completely unaware of any potential pheromones in the air. Leaving ratchet to muse that maybe his hypothesis was right.

It was when wheeljack walked through he staggered. Seeming to be completely thrown off the moment he entered the base. With bulkhead looking over at him concerned.

"Whoa Jackie. You alright?"

The white wrecker blinked in a daze before coming to his senses. "Yeah. I'm alright."

Ratchet could only hum in thought. So he WAS right. You could only affect wheeljack. So all he had to do was keep you both separated. Since that seemed to be your wish.

Wheeljack spotted the medic seeming to be in deep though and walked over. "Whatcha working on?" He couldn't help but notice the closer he got the stronger the smell. Was it ratchet? He had to wonder and find out for himself.

"I'm just going over (name)'s charts."

He looked at the screen to see a strand of CNA mixed with DNA along with another strand of CNA next to it. "Is something wrong?" He couldn't hide the worry in his voice.

"No nothings wrong per se. Just looking over some things for her since she asked." Ratchet stated while typing on the screen before turning to the wrecker. "Why? Is something the matter?"

Wheeljack looked caught off guard again. "Nah its just..." He paused for a brief moment. Thinking of what to say. "It's nothing. Just wondering." He then looked around. "Is (name) around?"

"She just went out. She will be back later." He stated and turned back to his work. The faster he can make the suppressant the faster your symptoms will dissappear. As well as your pheromones.

Ratchet didn't even realize wheeljack was halfway out the door before he frantically called back to him. "And where do you think you're going?!"

"Just out for a moment. I'll be back." He stated without turning around. Causing poor ratchet to bristle over his flippant retort.

"I need you to stay here for the time being. The others may require backup." Ratchet snipped

"Awe c'mon doc. I just got here. Don't tell me you're going to send me out again." He complained loudly. He was desperate to see if you were the source of those enticing pheromones.

"I just might now get back here!" The medic snapped at the white mech. "And stop calling me doc!"

You were standing there just letting the water drum over you. The coolness seeping into your skin. The running water helped with the uncomfortable warmth you felt but it didn't help the thick fog your mind was swimming through or the absolute urge to go looking for the mech that your body was calling out for.

You rested your head against the cool tiles of the stall. You wanted these symptoms to go away. If only you were back at shockwaves lab. He would administer the shot without a second thought. You should've grabbed some medicine before you escaped. You figured if the scientist felt emotions he would be laughing at your predicament right now. Or maybe. This is exactly what he wanted. But why?

Subconsciously your hand had found itself between your legs. Fingers sliding inside the place that ached as your mind wondered to your wrecker. Your fingers didn't offer much but the thoughts of it being him helped. A stifled moan caught in your throat when you heard a sound outside and decided you were in there long enough. It not like you weren't in the desert right now or anything and that water was not usually something of abundance. Nor should you be entertaining such dangerous ideas.

You lamented on how the coolness quickly left your body and struggled to dry off and redress.

You left the showers to find Fowler waiting for you. "Ratchet informed me you weren't feeling right and had me look over you for the time being. Is there anything you need?"

"Something cool. Or maybe a nap." Or maybe a third that shall not be mentioned.

"Would you like me or one of the bots to take you into town to get some ice cream then?

Your eyes lit up for a second as a certain wrecker crossed your mind before you quickly dismissed that thought.

"I'm not sure." You told him truthfully.

You didn't know what you wanted. Nothing sounded appealing to you. All except for the carnal urge to find the white lancia and make him yours. To sink your teeth into him. Intertwine your body with his. To feel his spark beat against yours. But such an intimately deep and primal urge scared you. You were scared of the unknowns. You were still intigrating yourself into team prime. Slowly becoming comfortable with everyone around you. Being thrust into a situation like this was alarming.

"I'll just hang out in a different hanger and try to get some rest." You told him. All in all you didn't feel like being around anyone. Well all except one mech. But you weren't ready for that. You were starting to remember him better. Rekindle your close friendship. Such a commitment was not something to take lightly. You would do your best not to give in.

You ended up at an adjacent hangar and the others were polite enough to lend you an office to crash in. They even were kind enough to lend you a pillow. Once you seemed settled in enough on the small couch Fowler left to go back to his own office.

"If you need anything just give me a call." Fowler told you before leaving.

You hummed in acknowledgement and watched him dissappear from the doorway. Closing the door behind himself. Leaving you by yourself with your thoughts all over again.

You wanted to rest. Even with the malaise wearing down your body you wouldn't be able to relax. Not with the desire to seek out relief plaguing your hazed mind. Picking and nagging at you. But you wouldn't be caught dead pleasuring yourself in public like this.

You laid there for what felt like hours. Trying menial mental tests to keep you sane. You feared the moment you slipped up you would lose control. But as time ticked by your mental awareness shrank to next to nothing. Even your short term memory started to fail. It was getting to the point you would get up to leave. Only to stop yourself when you remembered just WHY you placed yourself into quarantine to begin with. Then found yourself pacing as you battled your own body. It felt like chains were constricting your body. Hot, heavy, and extremely uncomfortable. All with that mech on the other end tugging at you to come closer.

You didn't want to be caged up any longer. You've had enough of that back with the decepticons. The air was too stuffy. It was getting harder to breathe. You were sure soon the walls were going to start closing in on you.

You walked out to notice that the hangar was vacant. All military personnel had already left for the most part. How long were you in that office? Was it already night? There's no way. You stepped out and felt unease wash over you. It was uncomfortably quiet. You had gotten used to the hustle and bustle of hangar E. How there was at least one living being in the hangar at all times.

You left the hangar quickly. Not wanting to stay there much longer. The silence was suffocating.

What you weren't expecting was finding yourself wandering mindlessly over to the outside of hangar E. It was dark outside but like usual inside the hangar it was relatively lit. You wanted that familiarity. Something about it was calling you. Or maybe it was your instincts. It was getting harder to tell. You didn't even know what you were doing or why you were even there in the first place. Your self controll must really be slipping now.

You shook your head. You wanted to ask ratchet but thought better than to just waltz right in. You needed to go back before making a mistake. Turning to trudge back to the hangar you found yourself unable to take a single step. You would go back; Only that you had to conveniently forget which one you had actually stayed in.

Fuck.

You wanted to cry in frustration. What were you even doing? Where were you? Why were you still so freaking warm. And where was ratchet with your suppressant. "Just hurry up with the damn suppressant already!" You cried out to no one in particular. Well no one in earshot. At least that's what you thought.

The scent. Oh Primus the scent that started filtering into your nose. It made you feel weaker. it made the heat of desire burn hotter, stronger, heavier. A vice tightening with every vent. Like a starved animal. It clouded everything out of your mind. You turned around and was met with the sight of wheeljack standing just outside hangar E.

Just as you opened your mouth to say something you clamped your hand around it. No! Don't draw him closer. If you do you will lose the very shred of self control you had left.

He spotted you and began to make his way to you.

At first you stumbled towards him. Drunk off of his scent. It coaxing you sweetly while pulling you in. Calling to you. Beconing. Only for you to regain your senses enough to run.

And run you did.

To be continued...

Part two

#tfp wheeljack x reader #wheeljack #tfp wheeljack #valveplug #prime wheeljack #transformers prime #tfp #maccadam #transformers #transformers wheeljack

[mgnifiqueyoo]

— "better than him."

requested by: anon [💙] pairing: yeonjun x fem!reader song recommendation: everyone who falls in love – has someone else they’re thinking of (cian ducrot) lowercase is intended…

— short a/n: i've written a few txt stuff here so it really feels nostalgic to write about yeonjun! (thank you to the person who requested this,, i really loved writing this djnddjknd). in short, this oneshot absolutely got me kicking my feet. it has enemies/rivals to lovers themes and also a bit of angst (a few cursing too)! no nsfw themes as well so don't worry! ^^

[ total words: 3.3k ]

click here to support me on ko-fi! ☕ click on this g.form link to request!

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“... ugh, you're here already?”

you had just stepped into the practice room, earphones plugged in yet you could still hear his voice as if it pierced through your ears… so annoyingly. “yeah? because i'm an actual responsible contestant, what about you?” it felt like all the nerves in your head were pulled upwards as you didn't even hesitate to snap back at him, which he also seemed to expect.

the first conversation you two have for today is already a mess, isn't that wonderful?

“because i'm an actual responsible contestant- blah, blah, blah… you're all talk,” he spat back with a sly smirk on his face, which you noticed without even looking twice. “besides, i bet you're just doing that to impress coach youngjun.”

“so what? it's not like i'm committing a crime or something.”

“that's understandable.”

yeonjun backed down, which you found was surprising, especially how quick it took him this time. usually, it'd take him days before taking your opinions into consideration. ‘i guess this is what happens when you're stuck with me for more than a week now,’ you thought to yourself, chuckling afterwards.

on the other hand, your supposed dance partner was making a face. in the simplest words, he heard the way you chuckled and he didn't like it. “just because i'm putting up with you, that doesn't mean you get to be all,” he paused for a bit, pointing his fingers sharply at the small smile that formed within your glossed, hot pink lips. “... smiley.” he stared at you with squinted eyes as you did the same in return. 

“oh? but i actually don't care so there's that.” your shoulders rose up in a snappish, almost unbothered manner that it made him grimace. — and oh, this is how it is to be around an equal… in an academy filled with such rivalry. isn't it a pleasant feeling? most of the time, it wasn't.

but now, you knew you can just deal with the personal feelings later on. yeonjun's not so bad to spend time with; if you think about it, he's not even close to the worst students of the academy.

it's better to be told these things face to face rather than not knowing who your real enemy is. “did you already stretch before i got here?” you changed the topic, focusing on the purpose of being stuck in this room with him as he nodded condescendingly, his eyes twitching with every second – how lovely? not.

“alright, then. give me ten minutes to prep,” you said, tying your hair up in a high ponytail that wasn't really neatly kept. but you didn't care anyway. it's just practice, not the competition itself. 

yeonjun, on the other hand, was just watching you closely, leaning his back against the wall with a look of either disapproval or curiosity. — either way, it didn't matter to you.

“... what?”

“just watching you feels like a hate crime to me.”

at first, you couldn't really care less about what he thought of you literally stretching. just like what he said earlier, you're “all talk” but in reality, he's the one who talks a lot. you never even said a word when you walked into the room; you barely even noticed he was there.

but even though you knew that he's contradicting himself, you actually had no idea why he did.

 “alright! good morning, you two.” a voice greeted from the now opened door, followed by a few claps. coach youngjun finally entered the room and broke the silence alongside the pianist, who immediately made her way to the keyboard at the corner to play one of the most well-known compositions with another musician who sat next to the bass drum next to him, ready to intensify the supposed solemn piece.

“good morning, mr. choi.” you both bowed down, greeting him back with respect as if the two of you weren't even bickering at first. and as soon as the coach had looked away, yeonjun already shared a fair glance at you – which seemed more like a warning rather than good luck. 

but that look of his quickly vanished when the coach had his eyes on you both once more. “so? should we start?” mr. choi clasped his hands together with a small smile on his face as both of you gave him a single nod in unison; it's like the two of you were actually getting along even though the truth is so far from that. “then, i guess you two should show me what you got so far.”

without thinking at least twice, you and yeonjun were at the center of the dance floor. you were now forgetting everything about yourself, taking in deep breaths as the music played; to you, it felt as if you've put aside all the things you thought about yeonjun – he's meant to be the apple of your eye by now, which is a little difficult to take in but that golden medal is what you're looking forward to.

being one of the best dancers the academy has, every single opportunity pushes you to reach what you want to be. you strive to be better. you have to be better no matter how big or small the stage could be.

because after all, that's what you wanted.

“you're going a little faster, y/n! slow down!” the coach sounded irritated as you widened your eyes mid-performance, trying to force more grace into every move you made despite the drum’s beats becoming louder with every second. — it didn't necessarily mean that you looked awful but interpreting the character was important; you seemed more like odile rather than odette. 

and to youngjun, that was quite uncomfortable to watch.

“yeonjun, you're stiff! move like you're in love with her!” the comments that pointed out all imperfections only stopped when the music did as well. 

you didn't want those words to get in your head… but you're slowly losing it.

“... that was underwhelming,” youngjun stated, his brows knitted in the way like he's trying his best to understand what just happened in that run. it was eight o'clock in the morning and god, he couldn't believe how mediocre that performance was. “i expected better actually… what was that? why did you two… look so tense? it just doesn't make sense.”

you weren't the only one that faced such high standards and you could just feel how yeonjun felt so upset about the coach's disappointment. “both of you were supposed to resemble lovers– lovers, you hear me? and what i just saw are like children learning how to dance for the first time. it's unpleasant, yeonjun. we can't show up next month like this.”

“well, she's a messy dancer. it'd probably take a while before we fix this.” that was your last straw, causing you to clear your throat to get his attention.

“me? a messy dancer? excuse me but maybe if you weren't so dense, then we would've presented a better performance.” you fought back, not letting him talk badly about you in front of the coach. in return, he chuckled, shaking his head. “really? i'm the one with the problem here? oh, just shut it, y/n. you don't even know what control is-”

“that's enough!”

you and your horrible dance partner turned your heads towards the coach once again, slowly realizing how stupid that petty argument was. “i'm going to leave you both alone and when i come back, this better be fixed or we're not pushing through.”

that last part was enough for the two of you to take this seriously as he left the room first, the pianist later following his footsteps as she made sure not to turn the situation worse by saying anything. the drummer, on the other hand, was aloof to it, minding his own business as he left the room, shutting the door closed.

“good fucking job, choi yeonjun.”

“as if you didn’t say shit about me either.”

you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms as you maintained distance from him. this was the most stupid thing you’ve ever participated in. — no, not the competition, of course but definitely the fact that you retaliated over yeonjun’s comments. well, to be fair, it wasn’t just you who messed up the first run! what you said back was just the truth.

but that also didn’t mean that you didn’t take part in making the performance weirdly underwhelming. “you know, you should try to shut your mouth sometimes, y/n. it’d save you air, just saying.”

“how about you fucking try that yourself? i wouldn’t say anything back if you stopped talking for once,” you interrupted him. like what the coach yelled earlier, this was enough. you’ve had enough. “you think this is just a game to you? it isn’t. so why aren’t you taking this seriously as much as i do?”

yeonjun stood there for a bit, not a single word leaving his mouth at all as he had his gaze at you and only you. “... you don’t think i’m taking this seriously?”

“well, maybe i would if you weren’t being such a bitch!” you can’t help but scream at his face, letting out a low growl after as you walked away, scratching the top of your head with both hands. as much as you thought you were handling this well, you were actually just dragging yourself down. — this was so out of control that it reminded you of something that was left in the past.

“you’re just like him.”

“... like who now?”

you let out a chuckle once more, turning around to look at him in the eye. “remember jihoon park? the one who left me in the bus during last year’s competition? yeah, you’re not too far from him.” when you told him those words, fire ignited in his eyes as he was barely a step away from protesting. 

yeonjun couldn’t accept it.

he was sure he was nothing like him.

absolutely nothing.

“you think i'm just like him? you think i can be someone so careless? for the record, i care about this performance as well!” yeonjun was furious. he couldn't stand thinking about how you thought of him; close to that infamous dance partner who was once called an ace. “so, tell me! how am i even close to that asshole?”

you let out another chuckle, one that's deeper this time as you shook your head. “you wouldn't get it even if i explained it to you,” you answered sharply, getting closer to his face with a smug look. “so don't bother learning about it, okay?”

“oh, now, you're not telling me… how convenient,” he was letting his sarcasm roll off his tongue like it was natural. but deep inside his head, he wanted to know. he needed to know what it was that made him so similar to jihoon park; your beloved ex-boyfriend. — so that he could change it. “... if you want this to be fixed, then i need to know at least the tip of the iceberg.”

“why do you care?” to yeonjun, it seemed as if you were angry at him. yet in reality, you were just so confused. why did he care about this so much? when did he start caring about this thing between you both so much? after all, you thought it was some game to him.

“why do i care? well, give me a reason why i shouldn't,” he taunted, sounding as “mad” as you did even though that was so far from the truth and you had nothing. for the first time, you had nothing against what yeonjun asked for. “and if you can't give me at least one, then i don't see the problem in caring about you.”

you held your palms up loosely, later putting them down as you shook your head once again. “no… let's not talk about it.”

“what?”

“i don't want to talk about it!”

and yeonjun laughed, not because he thought it was funny but more likely because he found it unbelievable that someone as bold as you are would avoid to talk about some ungrateful boy. “... why did you let him do that?” he questioned, still finding it so surreal that jihoon had made you feel so worthless when he left you in that bus, ashamed of yourself. “actually, i have a better question, why him? you know you deserve better, right?- god, you’re freaking me out.”

you couldn’t believe what you were hearing from him. it’s not totally something that was unexpected but you never saw this conversation coming. — he cared and he never denied that he still does. 

“really? after all the things i told you, you still think i deserve someone better than him? are you out of your mind?” you tried thinking of it as some joke but after looking into yeonjun’s eyes, you just couldn’t. in fact, you shouldn’t even. it was no joke. there was no punchline!

“of course, i do… you wouldn’t be such an irritating dance partner if he hadn’t treated you like such an embarrassment,” yeonjun admitted, walking towards the space beside you as the two of you were now leaning against the same wall, standing next to each other. “no one deserves to be left behind because he felt like you weren’t enough.”

“so, you knew about what he told me?”

“oh? everyone did. they talked about it all the time.”

it took you a moment before you nodded in response, completely startled by how these things just showed up now. — and somehow, in the end, yeonjun was the only one who told you the truth that you needed to hear from at least one of your closest friends, who happened to be rivals now. 

but that’s what hybe academy’s all about, right? rivalry. survival of the fittest. everything around you must be considered competition.

there are no friends.

just foes.

the dancer takes your hand in his, leading you to the center of the room as you tilt your head to the side, surprised. “come on? let’s go back to square one.”

“... this quickly?” you felt your shoulders rise up as he let go of your hand, positioning himself with a better posture, making himself ready for another round. 

“you wanna prove mr. choi wrong? let’s start dancing then, odette.”

you took a few seconds before you decided that it’s best to become the white, pure swan. after that poor performance earlier, yeonjun knew the exact words to convince you into dancing with him yet again. “... 5… 6… 7… 8.” he counted as the young, skillful dancer in him disappeared, fading away to the prince, whom odette loved with all her heart. 

there was nothing but love in those eyes that it made you wonder if you none of it was at least real. 

you made your way towards him, elegance lining your every step as if air had taken control of your “weightless” body; feather-like in other words. you kept your chin up, giving him a slight nod as your fingertips touched his wrist as well as his shoulder, causing him to give you a smile – which wasn’t in the choreography. 

“what are you doing?”

“you’re perfect.”

those words, despite being encouraging, also turned distracting for you as you twirled into the dancefloor with him, a lost and stiff stare being visible, especially with all these mirrors around the two of you. “watch your tempo,” yeonjun still found the chance to remind you about the things you must remember. “you’re doing awesome. keep it up!” 

the music in your minds soon fell silent as both of you looked straight into the mirror, hand in hand before bowing down to the imaginary audience. or was it all imaginary? because now, it seemed that you were also the audience of such a beautiful, quiet yet emotional performance.

not even the emptiest dancefloor could make it as cold and empty as it was earlier.

“i wasn’t lying earlier.” you didn’t know what he meant, causing you to look back at him, squinting your eyes in confusion. “lying about what? that i’m a messy dancer?” after such a petty fight, you finally found it comfortable to joke around with him as he laughed back, shaking his head while his eyes were still on himself in the mirror.

but then, those same eyes laid on your reflection, his plump lips slowly curling into a tiny, almost unseen smile. “no… no, it’s not that.”

“then, what is it?”

he turned his head to look at you, his smile becoming more noticeable as his eyes twinkled under the bright lights on the ceiling. “... you.”

“... well, what about me?”

for a quick second, he took a deep breath, his smile disappearing for a while but he didn’t seem to be upset about something you’d never know. instead, he came closer to you, standing next to you with your shoulders brushing against each other. his pinky finger grazes over yours, slowly wrapping it around as if he’s about to swear a promise for you. “... you’re perfect.”

words like that were new to you as you gasped silently, facing him with disbelief in your eyes.

“you’re not doing enough.”

“i don’t know why i’m doing this with you. all you think about is yourself.”

“forget the contest. fuck you, y/n.”

jihoon’s words were engraved in your mind, always coming back when someone tells you the nicest things you’ve never heard from him. all you ever wanted from him were words of encouragement but all he did was crush you. — and it ended with that last sentence, completely leaving you behind as you arrived to the venue with no one next to you.

shame was in your veins. until now, it was still there; pumping through the stream of blood, like poision had entered every part of you.

“what?” you uttered, uncertain of what yeonjun meant when he told you those two words, causing him to finally take your entire wrist in his grip, pulling you close to him as his other hand traced the side of your face with his knuckles softly. 

“kiss me,” he said, his voice trembling, equally as nervous as you were. but the difference? he couldn’t hold back the truth he avoided to face for so long. “stop thinking about jihoon and kiss me.” the tone of yeonjun’s voice danced around the tightrope that’d lead to either furiousness and frustration.

but then, you brought your palms to both sides of his face, your lips getting lost to his own as you reached the point where you realized… that you really did deserve better.

and maybe both of you had a rough start; all because of the denial that the past caused. 

in the back of your head, you wondered how could this take place; how could you kiss him just after such an argument? how could you bring your lips against his after that embarrassing, childish bickering in front of the coach? — if it weren’t for denial, you would’ve done this earlier than you could ever imagine.

something about his so-called hatred already came off as some denied admiration.

after all, who wouldn’t want to hold you like this?

moments after, he pulled away from the deepening kiss, remembering that practice was supposed to be the number one priority, not this… yet it was too good to let go, wasn’t it? 

he stared at you for a minute that felt like hours of silence for you as your heart raced just by thinking about the possibilities of what could’ve been going on inside his head. — was this mistake? did he think that this was a mistake? you didn’t know. you had no clue. and of course, that wave of shame was starting to wash over the weak shore inside your head.

“i’m staring to think that kissing you after the performance would be a good idea,” yeonjun cracked a joke, making you smile as you shook your head at him, finding him silly over it. “... but seriously! it would be a win-win situation if we won, which is expected, and i get to do what every guy at school would sell their souls for.”

“you’re crazy, do you want us to get eliminated? that’s foul play, yeonjun.”

“well? do you not want to kiss me?”

“... actually, you just changed my mind about that.”

#txt reactions #choi yeonjun #txt yeonjun #txt #txt imagines #tomorrow x together #txt drabbles #txt scenarios #tomorrow x together drabbles #tomorrow x together imagines #tomorrow x together scenarios #tomorrow x together reactions #tomorrow x together yeonjun #yeonjun #yeonjun imagines #choi yeonjun imagines #choi yeonjun scenarios #choi yeonjun drabbles #choi yeonjun reactions #yeonjun scenarios #yeonjun drabbles #yeonjun timestamps #yeonjun x reader #txt choi yeonjun #tomorrow x together choi yeonjun #rivals to lovers #choi yeonjun oneshot #txt oneshots #tomorrow x together oneshots #mgnifiqueyoo

[shimmeringlights44]

Strawberry Wine

cowboy!austin au reader insert

part one

tw: none?? but there are sexual themes

minors dni

word count: 1.8k

It was finally the end of my first year in college. I truly could not be more over it then I was right now I mean you couldn't pay me to stay another day here. I had my car all packed up and ready to go. This long drive home would give me plenty of time to reminisce on my great freshman year.

My dorm was literally inhabitable, not to mention the devil of a roommate I had. I don't know of any other person whose head was so far up their ass for no reason. And I hope I never do again. Class wasn't too bad except for me being enrolled in multiple courses I didn't need but couldn't drop because it was too late.

I thank my advisor for that one.

Lastly, I'll admit I was looking for love in all the wrong places. Like that one Johnny Lee song. I didn't like to think about the way my life was going so I used people to try and distract myself. Clearly did not work out for me. I just really needed time to myself to be quiet and still. I knew where I could find that.

Home. I can say I was truly blessed to grow up where I did. Our ranch is on a couple acres of land with huge willow and oak trees covered in moss. On the other side of the property we had a cute little cottage built for when the family came to visit. Down behind the house is our garden with the old shed daddy built across from it. We had a big pond put in and that was probably my favorite thing about the place. It has a little dock and I used to sit there for hours watching the water.

This drive couldn't go any faster.

But before I knew it I was finally pulling up to that familiar driveway, a little dark as the sun was going down but I could honestly navigate it blind. I heard momma yelling for me as I pulled up to the house. Flying out of the car, I ran to her, pulling her into the tightest hug.

“I missed you so much momma” “Me too bun, me too” she said into my shoulder. We grabbed all my stuff and went inside the house. It was just as I remembered.

That evening we had dinner and watched a movie together like old times. I truly missed her. After all the fun I decided to go to bed after my long day on the road. Laying down I decided that this summer was gonna be nothing like the past year. The theme is ‘Me, Myself, and I’. It’s what I need to get back to who I really am. Studying in the city for college was such a culture shock for me, it was interesting but I missed my trees and big wide open sky. My solidarity. I needed this.

I woke up around 8am that next day unfortunately. After peeling myself out of bed I lazily pulled an outfit of shorts and a top together and decided to go look at the shed. I went to the garage half asleep still, grabbing a hammer to go ‘work’ on the shed. Not sure about the thought process there. Walking back through the kitchen I stopped to greet my mom and down a banana quickly.

“Oh I forgot to say I hired a ranch hand for some help around here” she tells me. Confused, I ask “Do we really need one momma? I mean I was kinda looking forward to the work..”. “Well I figured you just wanted to be able to relax but you're more than welcome to help him if you want to.” She said that oddly. “Mmmm, I don't think I want to hang out with some random old guy. Thanks though.” I say under my breath as I leave the room.

Finding my way outside I saw the beat down building for the first time in a while.

“Well… this looks like shit.” I muttered to myself. I mean, I knew it needed work but it was practically falling apart with pieces of the wood disentegrati-

“Sorry I-” A deep voice startled me out of my thoughts.

“JESUS” I flew around throwing the hammer. I had to croon my neck up to meet the gaze of the bluest eyes I've ever seen. Before me stood a tall, muscular, looker of a man. His blonde locks stuck in place but curled so beautifully upon his head. Trailing down his face my eyes latched on his lips, so plump and soft looking. It was as if time stopped.

Was I dreaming? The way my heart was pounding was telling me otherwise.

I was broken from my trance when the beautiful man spoke again in a certain country drawl.

“I- I’m sorry little girl I didn't mean to frighten ya.” Little girl? “I wasn't sure where I was going.” he chuckled. Words couldn't form from my brain to my mouth. I just stared at him.

Luckily at that point my mother came to my rescue as always. “Austin? Hey honey you are at the right place!” He whipped his head around at the sound of his name, going to greet my mother. I took this opportunity to bolt inside the house.

There's no way he's the ranch hand momma was talking about. He's too pretty.

After a bit she came back inside and explained to me that the beautiful man was in fact the ranch hand she hired.

“That boy is a sweetie! He's the one who rebuilt the fence around the garden last fall. I figured he would be handy to have around this summer!” she said. “Why did you say it like that?” “Say it like what?” she said with a giggle.

She's playing me.

“Okay momma but don't expect me to be his friend. He comes to work and goes home every day.”

Silence.

“Momma, he comes to work and goes home, right?” “Technically yes.” “You gave him the cottage didn't you?” “I did.” she sheepishly responded.

So, now I have an insanely attractive neighbor that I didn't ask for. Am I mad about it? Not at all. I'm just going to ignore him as best as I can. I cannot get caught up again. This summer is supposed to be about my self growth. Point blank period.

After giving myself a pep talk about the expectations I had for the summer I decided to do some work to take my mind off of it. Luckily mom gave me the sole task of tending the garden so I was going to put my heart and soul into it.

Going back outside later in the day I decided to start with the tomatoes, there were plenty to pick. Squatting down I started picking tomatoes and pulling the weeds from the ground. It was pretty quiet for a few minutes when all of a sudden I heard the sound of wood clacking on the ground. It made me snap my head up. Looking through the plants I saw movement by the shed. I moved some of the branches around to get a better view and boy did I.

Peering through the bushes I saw this so-called Austin ripping the old wooden boards from the shed, glistening with sweat, and his muscles tensing. Lord have mercy. Due to the heat at this point he was only wearing the jeans and work boots I met him in, no shirt. I've only heard of men looking like this, never seen one in the flesh.

He stopped pulling boards to take a swig of water from his reserve. He was drinking like he was in a drought. I watched it fall out of the sides of his mouth and dribble down his chest almost in slow motion. After quenching his thirst he poured some of the ice cold water on his forehead, leaning back and wiping his hair with it. Almost as if he knew I was watching, putting on a show for me.

My breath caught in my throat at the thought.

He pulled a rag out of his back pocket and dabbed the wetness from his face. There was a feeling growing in the pit of my stomach, it was a feeling I was missing, craving, but I knew I couldn't allow myself a taste of this forbidden fruit. Even just watching him was so intense I couldn't imagine touchi-... I had to stop myself. He went back to work and the loud noise pulled me out of my thoughts. Slowly looking down I've completely demolished the tomato sitting in my hand. Whoa. I ran inside to wash the juice from my hands and the sins from my mind.

The rest of the day I spent locked in my room hoping for the thoughts to go away but the more I tried the more they stayed. His washboard abs etched in my mind. That evening after dinner I decided to go sit at my favorite spot on the dock by the pond. Watching the water move from the wind would maybe calm me. It was always peaceful and made me feel at home. Maybe I can find some solace here.

Hopefully.

Sitting outside I heard a door close behind me expecting momma to be coming over. But once again that deep southern voice startled me.

“Sorry, I didn't get to properly introduce myself, I’m Austin,” he says reaching out his hand. I looked at them, big and calloused. I wonder what they feel like. I grabbed it expecting a shake when he easily pulled me to my feet. Not expecting that, I unintentionally fell into him with my hand landing on his chest.

“I- uh..I- my name is y/n.” I said breathlessly. He smiled down at me.

“Y/n, a beautiful name for a beautiful girl, it's a pleasure to meet ya.” I could just about melt in his arms. He was freshly showered in a half opened button up with his chest peeking out and a new pair of jeans. My hand slightly felt over his open shirt.

I need to stop.

The smell of his musk was almost over bearing being this close to him. It was heavenly.

“Y/n?”

I didn't even realize he was talking to me, I was too busy trying to look deeper into his shirt.

”Huh?”

“I said it was nice to meet you, but I've got to go.”

“Oh, sorry,” I muttered, pulling away. “It was nice to meet you too.”

He bit his lip at me and looked me up and down for a split second before turning around and walking off. Boy did that ass look great in those jeans. He hopped into an old yellow ford and started off down the driveway.

Once again I was left breathless by the ranch hand.

Please let me know what you think about it!! i already have part two in the works lmk if u wanna see more :)) also thank u to @wtfsteveharrington and @sassy-ahsoka-tano for beta reading and helping me edit !!!

#austin butler #austin butler fic #austin buter x reader #cowboy!austin #elvis 2022 #i’m so nervous posting this i am no writer by any means but i hope y’all enjoy it !!! #strawberry wine

[7grandmel]

Todays rip: 03/02/2024

Take You To The Desert

Season 3 Featured on: SiIvaGunner's Highest Quality Rips Volume A

Ripped by Chaze the Chat

Hi, so, uh, full disclaimer - I HAD a post almost done and ready to go for today (or TONIGHT, rather), but then I got very distracted by watching the amazing YouTube premiere of the MAGFest Rave, had the fucking time of my life screaming my head off in the SiIvaGunner Discord, and now I've suddenly been informed that I've almost missed Sean Kingston's birthday! Sean Kingston! You know the guy - from Crazy Noisy Beautiful Girls, from Beautiful! ~ Curveball of Sean Kingston, from the 11th episode of the SiIvaGunner Christmas Comeback Crisis? Yet for all that I've talked about him in those two posts, it still kind of feels like I've only barely scratched the surface - and with the scoops I only just got from SiIvaCord, I felt basically forced to properly honor Kingston's legacy today.

Before his unfortunate and absolutely-real-no-kidding Jetski accident, Sean Kingston made waves in the late 2000s with his breakout single Beautiful Girls - the kind of song that you only SOMEWHAT become annoyed by from its overexposure on the radio. After team member turdl3 of Hoopache fame singled it out as his number-one most disliked pop song of the 2000s, the SiIvaGunner team did what they did best and decided to turn that distaste into a running joke, posting more and more Kingston as part of the bit - before it reached Chaze the Chat's ears.

I can't help but assume that there was some sort of neural overlap across ´his prior obsession with Maroon 5 and Sean Kingston, but Chaze the Chat reportedly wound becoming absolutely obsessed with posting about the song and its various follow-ups. Did you know he made three separate mashup albums dedicated to shitposting about the guy?

Its something I've talked about in many Maroon 5-themed posts on here such as Sunday Morning, but even when I'm not able to be in on the joke there's just something so endearing about seeing rips be made out of such strangely specific yet evidently passionate interests - which, in turn, brings us to Season 3's Sean Kingston Day, and Take You To The Desert. Turdl3 was reportedly not alone in disliking Beautiful Girls, and the song had effectively no presence on SiIvaGunner whatsoever in its first two years of running - yet somehow, Sean Kingston Day got to occur, and the sheer shock of it all has stuck with me since even back when. It wasn't something absurdly random like Chain of Memories II Day back with Simple and Clean (Psi Mix), nor was it seemingly part of any ongoing lore developments, nor did it feel like a long-running joke on the channel that I'd simply failed to be invited to - everyone else in the YouTube comments were just as befuddled as I was as to what led to the sudden takeover. Hell, I hadn't even *heard* Beautiful Girls until that day!

And yet, I fucking loved it.

From an honest point of view, Take You To The Desert is a pretty simple mashup between two already-good songs. Yet with all that context of Sean Kingston's presence on the channel, his development as a borderline forced inside joke and sudden takeover for a day, and most importantly Chaze the Chat's bizarre affection for the guy, it turns into something more. Just the simple fact alone that the rip uses Take You There rather than his prior discussed debut single kind of speaks volume to how deep in the trenches Chaze the Chat was in regards to this event - an event that, really, he was the main driving force behind even getting done to begin with. And though it caught us all of guard, I do believe there were many viewers just like me back then - who through the repeated exposure of the day became unironic Sean Kingston enjoyers. And hey - Beautiful! ~ Curveball of Sean Kingston is only one of the many dozens of rips made since Sean Kingston day to continue upholding the Kingston legacy, even as the hype around the in-joke as completely passed

Bizarre, catchy, ironic, unironic, Jetski driver or pop sensation - Sean Kingston is many things, yet for the six years I've known of his existence I've never been able to see him as anything but a SiIvaGunner joke. But when its one that Chaze the Chat believed in so fucking hard, one that gave us absolute bangers like Take You To The Desert, I can't find it in me to see that as a bad thing. Because with or without prior knowledge, the passion of those who ripped his music showed me why it was worth caring about.

Happy Birthday, Sean Kingston.

#todays siivagunner #season 3 #siivagunner #siiva #chaze the chat #sean kingston #beautiful girls #take you there #persona 5 #p5 #p3r #p3 #p3 reload #p3 remake #persona #atlus persona #persona music #persona ost #persona 5 royal #p5r #makoto nijima #Youtube #Bandcamp

[brutalmoose]

Hi again, Ian! Just wanted to say that I've had the Gerbert theme song stuck in my head all day and it's all your fault. "Ooh baby, you make me smile, -demonic chanting-"

[jamiesfootball]

apologies if this has been asked/answered/referenced somewhere i haven't seen but where did the title for 'oh god, you're gonna get it (you have not been given love)' come from??? every time i see/read it i feel like i've read something inherently profound. if you came up with it you're even more of a poet and a genius than reading the fic had led me to believe - which was a lot lol (seriously it's so good, literally how???????????????????? i feel like this title is haunting me and the fic has definitely caused some level of brain rot)

THANK YOU FOR SAYING IT GAVE YOU BRAIN ROT. I HAVE NEVER BEEN SO FLATTERED.

The closest I have come to talking bout the title is here but at that point the title was still redacted on my posts so I'd say that barely counts!

So this is going to be long. Do try to bear with me, I've done my best.

The title is pieced together from two different song lyrics, but I think I did an excellent job in both picking a title that echoes the themes AND in smushing it together to make something new.

Oh god you're gonna get it is from Florence + The Machine's 'Girls Against God', which is one of those songs that came on when I was deep in the blorbo feels and they imprinted on the song so now that song just is a Roy Kent song to me, with many parts of it speaking to the vibe I wanted to bring into this fic. The quiet helplessness, the barely restrained incandescent rage -- all set against tragic, mundane life.

What I love most about this part of the title is that it's so loaded with meaning. Because 'oh god you're gonna get it' can read as 'oh god, you will understand'. Is it reassurance? Is it telling someone that it's okay if you're confused and lost now, because in the future they will understand?

Is it foreshadowing? Is it a warning? 'Oh enjoy you're obliviousness and confusion now, because one day it will make sense and you will understand. Oh god, will you ever understand.'

Then we have the part of the song that contains the title:

Oh God, you're gonna get it You'll be sorry that you messed with us

And here it becomes a threat of violence, and echo of rage acting against outside forces.

So that's part 1 of the title.

The nested part of the title, the part in parenthesis, is 'you have not been given love' by A Balladeer. Now, this song is more vibes than lyrics, though it does have some echoing ideas towards Jamie regarding generational trauma. That mixed with the lamenting tonality with which it's sung made this one really stick out.

Well, that and the fact that the title is repeated no less than sixteen fucking times. You can see why it was stuck in my head, yes?

Again, though, the lyric when taken at face-value feels loaded with meaning. On the one hand, it's someone recognizing, 'oh, I understand now. there have been circumstances in your life that have brought you to were you are now, and how you are able to perceive love has been directly affected by how you have not received it before.' But then it's also saying 'hey, those things you lived through, those things that other people gave you. those weren't love. you know that right?' And finally it's an understanding about someone, 'oh, you are an unfed thing. you do not know what love is, because you have never been given it'

Even if you take each part of the song piecemeal, with each section representing a different character, you end up with a fascinating tension. But if we combine the two we get this reverberation between the getting and the given. 'You will get', and nested with it 'you have not been given'. You will get your understanding (that you have not been given love). Oh god you will understand (that you are an unloved thing). You will make them pay (for they did not give you love). And most importantly

Oh god you're gonna to get (the love you were not given)

#I hope this makes sense #thank you so much for your wonderful message - I quite literally thought about it all day #and I'm glad you've enjoyed my one very very long chapter so far! #fic: oh god you're gonna get it (you have not been given love) #ask box is always open #fic testimonials

[karahalloway]

Sleepless in New York: Chapter 9 - Edge of the Night

Series: TRR

Pairing: Drake Walker x F!OC (Harper Gale)

Synopsis: What if Drake met Harper on the first night of Prince Christian’s New York bachelor party? A stand-alone AU written from Drake's POV.

Masterlist: Sleepless in New York

Chapter Summary: Drake locates Christian... but that doesn't mean his night's over.

Word Count: 6,600

Rating/Warnings: M (swearing, angst)

Chapter theme song:

A/N1: Apologies this took sooo long to get out! I started working on this chapter back in November, but I got stuck several times, then I went to chase the shiny butterfly that was Polo!, and then I was busy collaborating on the Mardi Gras Mayhem fic. But... after much ado, here is the (long-awaited!) chapter! Hope it meets expectations!

A/N2: A day early, but this is also my submission for the Choices April Challenge. This chapter would fall under the ‘Just want to be with you’.

Chapter 9 - Edge of the Night

Ten minutes later, I'm standing at the St. George Ferry Terminal on Staten Island, wearing a standard-issue NYPD leather jacket (courtesy of O'Sullivan), scanning the disembarking passengers, on the lookout for Chris.

I chew the inside of my mouth nervously as I feel my foot tap against the polished concrete floor.

Time is everything right now, and unfortunately, I don’t have much of it in the bank.

I can only hope that Hayley hasn’t had a chance to post the photo yet. Because if she has, then it’s only a matter of time before someone recognises Chris and blows up the carefully faked narrative of his whereabouts.

And then all bets are off...

Because even if we manage to make it back to Cordonia without any nasty surprises, chances are good that the paps will twist even the most innocent selfie into some kind of dig about Chris and his fitness to rule. While a snap of him getting kissed by an American girl days before the start of the social season where he is supposed to choose a wife...? There’s only one way that’s gonna end. With him smack bang in the middle of a scandal that we definitely don’t need right now.

And hence my one rule for this trip — no fuckin' photos.

Not that anyone ever listens to me...

Thankfully, I don't have to wait long. At this time of night, the ferry is basically empty and the terminal deserted.

The automatic doors in front of me whoosh open and I catch sight of Chris, holding hands with Hayley, laughing at something she'd just said.

My gut tightens.

I've never seen him happier.

But unfortunately for my best friend, this impromptu escapade's about to get shut down.

"Pleasant trip?" I ask, striding up to them.

Chris throws his head up in surprise. "Drake?"

"You're a cop?" gasps Hayley in disbelief.

I follow her gaze to the NYPD insignia patched onto the jacket's sleeve. "Heh. No. This ain't mine."

"Then how did y—?"

"Put two-and-two together?" I ask dryly, deliberately sidestepping the question she’s actually asking. "Simple maths."

Chris' shoulders drop as he lets out a self-deprecating chuckle. "I guess I am rather predictable..."

"Good thing, too," I drawl. "Otherwise I'd've had to call in the cavalry, and then we'd be having a very different kind of conversation."

Hayley's widen. "The caval—? You mean the FBI? Is that what you are?"

I suppress a snort. Seriously? The second time in just as many nights? Maybe I should drop my resumé off at Quantico...

"No," I reply simply before shifting my focus back to Chris.

"I am sorry," he sighs, catching fully onto my meaning. "I didn't intend to cause a ruckus. I honestly thought we could get here and back before anyone noticed."

"You know you could've just said the word, and we would've made this happen, right?" I ask. "There was no need for you to cut and run like that."

"To be fair, this was all quite spur of the moment, wasn't it?" he admits, sneaking a glance at Hayley, who blushes in response. "We were just talking back at the club, and I happened to mention that we never got to see the Statue of Liberty this morning... To which Hayley admitted to always having wanted to take a night-time ferry tour... And all of a sudden, one thing led to another, and—"

"Yeah, I get it," I interject. "And I don't blame you for doing it. But next time, leave your phone on. Regardless of whatever kind of BS Leo tries to sell you." I fix him with a pointed look.

Chris has the good graces to flush embarrassedly. "Duly noted."

Hayley shakes her head. "But his phone was—"

"And speaking of phones..." adds O'Sullivan, strolling up with a half-eaten Boston Cream donut in his hand, "I'm going to have to ask you to hand yours over, ma'am."

Hayley's mouth drops open. "My phone?"

"Yes, ma'am," O'Sullivan affirms, popping the rest of the donut into his mouth.

"What is the meaning of this, officer?" demands Chris, moving in front of a shocked Hayley.

"Chris..." I warn in a low voice. "Back off."

He throws me a disbelieving look. "But—"

"We have reason to believe that the device contains information pertinent to a matter under investigation," O'Sullivan clarifies.

Chris reels back. "What investigation?"

"A joint investigation," comes the stone-faced reply.

Hayley's face drains of colour.

I shake my head. Christ, O'Sullivan can be a bastard when he wants to be.

But the situation can’t be helped.

There are sensitive pictures of Chris and Hayley on that device that cannot be allowed to see the light of day. And despite the fact that O'Sullivan’s skirting a very dangerous line right now, we have to sacrifice one form of privacy to protect another.

Because even though O'Sullivan’s an NYPD officer, sworn to uphold the laws of the Empire State, he’s also duty bound to look out for his principle. So, he offered to play bad cop. In part because he actually is a cop.

He turns back to Hayley. "Were you aboard the recently docked Staten Island Ferry?"

Chris heaves an exasperated sigh. "How is that—?"

O'Sullivan ignores him. "Answer the question, ma'am."

"Yes," squeaks Hayley.

"Damn it, Drake!" snaps Chris. "Do something!"

"Can't, buddy..." I inform him flatly. "Don't have jurisdiction here, remember?"

"So, you're just going to let him—?"

"Impeding a police officer from carrying out their public duties is a criminal offence," I point out, folding my arms. "So, I suggest you let the man do his job."

Chris glares at me.

But he’s gonna have to suck it up.

Because he got himself into this avoidable mess as a result of his impulsiveness and complete disregard for our standard security protocols. So, now it’s my job to clean up after him.

Regardless of how it makes him — or Hayley — feel.

"While onboard, did you take photographs with a cellular device?" continues O'Sullivan.

Hayley's basically quaking in her boots. "Yes, but—"

"And in the course of taking such photographs, did you—?"

"—but, I didn't use my phone!"

The intensity of Hayley's outburst catches everyone off guard.

I shake my head. "Then what—?"

"She used my phone," explains Chris tersely. "To take a picture of me with the Statue of Liberty in the background... so I could commemorate the once-in-a-lifetime experience."

"But she—"

"—may have taken a few additional pictures as well," admits Chris with a self-conscious smile, as his eyes finds Hayley again. "Somewhat spontaneously, I'll admit, but—"

"None on hers?" I press.

Chris lifts his eyes to mine steadfastly. "No. Her phone stayed in her purse the whole time. So, whatever it is that you are accusing her of, she did at my behest and therefore should be relieved of any and all responsibility."

I feel the tension in my shoulders unwind slightly. Some goddamn common sense, at last!

But Chris isn’t off the hook yet...

"Did you share any pictures with her?" I ask.

"He tried," Hayley admits. "But for some reason, there was no signal on the ferry."

I let out an explosive breath. Thank Christ for that signal jammer!

Never thought I'd actually be thanking Leo for anything. But here we are...

Hayley is still glaring at us. "Well, aren't you going to ask to see his phone, then? Seeing as you're so concerned about... whatever it is that you're concerned about?"

I glance at Chris. She's got a point...

He pulls out his phone with a nod of acknowledgment, knowing we have to continue playing this game for the sake of his cover. "Here you are, officer."

Taking it, O'Sullivan makes a bit of a show of flipping through Chris' camera roll before handing the device back. "Thank you, sir. Looks like we got bad intel. None of the images contain anything pertinent to our investigation." He throws me a dirty look.

I shrug. Shit happens.

But the important thing is that we’re in the clear... and my ass is no longer on the line.

"So... that's it? asks Hayley cautiously. "We're free to go?"

"Not quite," I admit, meeting Chris' eye.

He drops his gaze in resignation before turning to Hayley. "As delightful as this spontaneous outing has been, I am afraid we must call it a night."

Her mouth falls open. "Just like that?"

"Unfortunately so," he confirms, lifting her hand gently to his lips. "But believe me when I say that you made my night, Hayley."

A blush rises to her cheeks. "I don't know about that..."

"Truly," he asserts, brushing a kiss over her knuckles. "I am forever grateful..."

"Jesus, I'm about to get diabetes..." huffs O'Sullivan under his breath.

I elbow him in the ribs.

"...and as a small token of my appreciation, I hope you would allow us to escort you home," finishes Chris with a meaningful look in my direction.

I can't help but scoff. Well played, buddy. Well played.

But I guess I owe him one after gatecrashing his date the way I have. And let's face it — we can’t exactly leave the girl stranded on the wrong side of the Hudson without a safe way to get home. So, we might as well kill two birds with one stone.

"Sure," I concede. "She can ride back with us."

"In your drea—"

O'Sullivan grunts as I nail him in the side again.

"Oh, you really don't have t—" demurs Hayley.

"But I want to," insists Chris, turning the full force of his emerald gaze on her.

She wilts under his sincerity with a blush. "Well, in that case..."

"What the hell, Walker?" hisses O'Sullivan under his breath as Chris offers his arm to Hayley to lead her from the ferry terminal. "Finding your missing prince is one thing, but you can't just go around handing out free rides to civilians like—"

"Trust me," I reply quietly, laying a hand on his shoulder. "I'll make it worth your while."

He snorts. "I already paid for the donuts."

"This is a bit more substantial than some Dunkin's," I assure him.

"Better be," he declares. "Kerosene ain't cheap, Lieutenant."

I throw my head up. "You've done your homework."

"What can I say?" he shrugs with a smirk. "I'm good at my job."

"And if you've read my file," I reply, recovering quickly, "you'll know that I am too."

"Seeing is believing, Walker," O'Sullivan reminds me as we exit the terminal hot on Chris and Hayley's heels.

I roll my eyes. "Hardass..."

But, I can understand his scepticism. This is the first time the two of us have officially worked together, and in this job, trust doesn’t come easy, or cheap.

So, I’m gonna let his attitude slide.

Hayley stumbles to a stop in front of us. "Why is there a—?"

"Had to get here somehow..."

Her jaw drops as she turns to gape at me. "So, you flew in a helicopter?"

"Faster than swimming," I tell her with a shrug.

Hayley stares at me like I was insane.

"And it's not waiting for stragglers, so if you want a lift, you'd better move it," prompts O'Sullivan, striding past her towards the idling chopper.

"Hold on. He's coming with us?" asks Hayley in disbelief.

"It's his bird," I shout over the roar of the rotor blades. "So, yeah."

"His—?" Her eyes widen. "Wait. Are you guys... arresting us?"

I fix her with a pointed look. "See any handcuffs?"

"Then why are we getting into a helicopter with a cop!" she demands, stubbornly throwing the breaks on a few feet from the aircraft.

"Because he's doing us a favour," I explain with a sigh. "So if you—"

"No!" she protests. "Not until you tell me who the hell you are! Because if you're not cops and you're not FBI then—"

Chris steps assuringly up to her. "Hayley. There is nothing nefarious underfoot. I promise. We are simply—"

"Diplomats," I interject quickly, not 100% confident that Chris won't choose this moment to come clean about who he really is. "From Europe."

"Diplomats?" queries Hayley, eyeing the two of us uncertainly.

"Here on an unofficial, turn-and-burn visit," I confirm. It’s basically the truth. The best lies always are.

"Unofficial?" she frowns. "You mean secret?"

"You make it sound much more suspenseful than it in fact is," chuckles Chris, holding a hand out to help her into the ‘copter.

"But we are trying to keep a low profile," I remind them.

She mulls over our responses. "So, that cop—?"

"Doing us a favour, like I said."

"What's the holdup, boys?" shouts O'Sullivan from the cockpit.

"Nothing!" I holler back over my shoulder as Hayley finally climbs in...

...while simultaneously throwing a hand out to intercept Chris as he's about to follow suit.

He meets my eye quizzically.

"Not with that kit in your pocket, buddy," I tell him. "I've had more than enough excitement for one night."

His brows furrow. "Isn't it just—?"

"It can down the chopper," I reply flatly, holding out my hand.

Chris pales. Reaching into his trouser pocket, he quickly palms me the signal jammer without further protest.

Killing the power to the device, I pocket it and hop in after Chris.

"'Bout time, Walker," observes O'Sullivan dryly as I pull the door closed.

Securing the hatch, I flick my middle finger 'round, giving O'Sullivan the go to take off while simultaneously flipping him off.

He throws his head back with a laugh as he relays the instructions to Hendricks.

The pilot revs the throttle, and we start to lift into the air.

Dropping into the seat across from Chris, I pull the seatbelt on as I fire off a quick text to Schweitzer to let him know that we were inbound back to the hotel. Stowing the device, I pull the headset on just in time to hear Hayley's gasp over the intercom.

Glancing up, I see her latched onto Chris, eyeing the rapid retreat of the terra firma with a confused mix of emotions on her face.

Chris's voice crackles over the intercom. "Exciting, isn't it?"

She swallows hard, tightening her hold on his arm. "You... you could say that..."

His face clouds with concern. "Do you... suffer from acrophobia by any chance?"

"W-what?" she stammers, glancing back at him nervously.

"Acrophobia," he repeats. "Fear of heights."

She shakes her head. "I... I've just never flown before."

"Ah," nods Chris in understanding. "Some trepidation is perfectly understandable, then. But, as someone who has been flying since infancy, I can assure you that it is quite safe."

"Promise?"

"Solemnly," he assures her, covering her hand in his. "I wouldn't dream of putting you in harm's way. And, if it helps at all, you are welcome to focus your attention on me."

I scoff under my breath as Hayley lifts her gaze to Chris' like clockwork.

Guy’s slicker'n a greased pig on ice...

But I can’t really blame him. It’s his last shot at freedom before the start of the season, so he’s entitled to bring his A-game...

...even if his play had cost me mine.

I give myself a mental kick.

Quit it, you ass.

This is Chris' time. Not mine.

And I’m not gonna let some misplaced sense of resentment fuck up what’s left of this trip.

Especially since I only have myself to blame.

For dragging my feet around Gale. For second-guessing myself... and her. And for letting myself fall for her in the first place.

I heave a breath as I stare out of the cockpit.

I fucked up. Big time.

Don't get hooked.

That’s my number one rule.

Because I have no time and zero interest in anything resembling a serious relationship. It’s too distracting, too much work and I probably wouldn't be able to sustain it anyway. At least not without a level of disclosure that’s way higher than what I’m prepared to give after just a handful of dates. And even then there’s no guarantee that all the late nights, erratic schedules and constant jet-setting won’t drive a massive wedge between whatever promises we make to each other.

Hell, this life literally destroyed my family.

Yet, here I am, despite everything, wishing it’s Harper that I’m sat next to right now, feeling the warmth of her body pressed against mine, smelling the honey scent of her hair as we whip over the city.

Would she be clutching my hand nervously, like Hayley is Chris'? Or would she be pressed up against the window, hazel-green eyes sparkling with excitement as she sought out each famous landmark? Or would she be on my lap, taking me for a very different kind of ride 2,000 feet over the city, the view outside forgotten?

I swallow a groan as I shift uncomfortably in the hard seat.

Christ, I’m in trouble...

Not only had I torpedoed my own rules like a bull in a china shop, but I've decided that it'd be a great fuckin’ idea to fall for a girl who lives literally on the other side of the world, and who I have no chance of ever seeing again.

Because the social season is starting in a few short days, and it’s going to eat up literally all of my time. In part because the season’s a mess of high-profile public engagements across disparate venues around the country, and in part because Chris is now the Heir Apparent and that means that I’m going to have to be even more on the ball when it comes to security arrangements.

So, there’s no way in hell that — even if I want to — I’m going to be able to hop back over the Pond and find Gale, much less spend any kind of meaningful time with her.

And I want to. Desperately. Beyond the fact that I have an incurable itch in my pants from having failed to close the deal.

Because no girl has ever had such a lightning bolt effect on me. And I can’t ignore the lodestone-like attraction that went beyond anything I've ever felt before.

But life obviously has a malicious sense of humour when it comes to throwing curve balls, because short of giving Bast — and Chris — the finger and resigning, I literally have no cards to play.

And I’m not gonna leave my brother or my commanding officer (who’s also my uncle in all but name) in the lurch during one of the busiest periods of the royal calendar, just so I can chase after a girl who may or may not actually want to see me again.

Especially after the way I walked out on her earlier...

I shake my head morosely as we begin our descent onto the hotel roof.

There’s no two ways about it. Because regardless of what’s happened — and didn't — I’m going to have to accept that I've been dealt a shit hand and the only available option is to cut my losses and fold.

Because me and her? Not gonna happen. On any level.

So, if I’m to have any hope of extricating myself from this irrational infatuation that I've inadvertently thrown myself into, I know that I’m just gonna have to pretend that the past two nights never happened...

...and maybe that way I can salvage some semblance of sanity before I lose my mind completely.

The chopper touches down.

Yanking my headset and seatbelt off, I immediately set about throwing the door open and helping Chris and Hayley disembark.

Because if there’s one thing I know about myself, it’s that I have two options for pulling myself out of my ass: getting physical, or getting shit-faced drunk. And since alcohol’s not a possibility right now — at least not until Chris is safely back in his hotel room and the door has been locked for the night — I’m going to have to keep moving and keep myself busy.

"Get her inside," I shout to Chris. "I'll be over in a sec."

With a nod, he wraps his arm around Hayley to help shield her from the worst of the down draft as he begins leading her towards the hotel-access door on the other side of the roof.

Turning back towards the chopper, I yell up O'Sullivan, "Thanks for the assist!"

"Any time, Lieutenant," he winks back at me as I shrug out of the loaner jacket. "You Cordonians sure know how to make a guy's night interesting!"

"Yeah," I scoff, tossing the heavy leather up to him. "A little too interesting..."

"Beats sitting at a desk all night," he grins, deftly snapping the jacket out of the air... until his expression changes as he clocks the added weight. "You leave your Tic-Tac's in here, or something, Walker?"

"Nope," I reply. "That lil' keepsake's for you, Deputy Inspector."

O'Sullivan frowns as he reaches into the inner-left pocket... and blanches as he pulls out the signal jammer. "You've got to be shitting me!"

I catch his eye with a level look. “Told you I'd make this trip worth your while..."

"Yeah, when you said that, I thought you were talking about a case of Bud, or something," he admits dryly, inspecting the jammer. Looking back up, he adds, "You realise this isn't some rookie tech off Amazon, right?"

I nod. "It's why I figured you'd want it off the streets."

Leo'd probably filched it from the Guard armoury, the sneaky bastard. Which means it’s military-grade and has no place in a civilian setting.

O'Sullivan chuckles. "You figured right. This bad boy could've landed your Prince Charming with a hefty fine... or some serious jail time if he'd been caught with it."

"Trust me, I know," I grunt. "But at least this way you have a plausible story for commandeering the chopper."

"Not to mention a shit load of paperwork," he grumbles with a sour look. But I can see that he's not that begrudging of the situation.

"Yeah, well," I shrug, "no pain, no gain, O'Sullivan. And speaking of, I should get going before Chris blows up all our hard work by disappearing again."

"No sweat, Walker," grins O'Sullivan. "Like I said, it's been interesting."

"Glad to’ve been of service," I smirk in reply as I yank the chopper door closed again.

From behind the cockpit window, O'Sullivan lifts two fingers to his forehead in a mock salute before turning back Hendricks.

As the rotors start to pick up speed again, I quickly vacate the landing circle. Loping across the roof, I catch up with Chris and Hayley just before the stairwell door slams shut behind them.

"Everything alright?" queries Chris as the motion-sensitive lights flicker on overhead in the tight space.

"Yup," I confirm, quickly moving to the front. I’m not expecting any nasty surprises on our way down, but you can never be too careful. "Just had to square a few lose ends."

"What happened to your shirt?" exclaims Hayley, suddenly catching sight of my bare chest.

"Functional breakdown," I mutter, yanking the wayward front panels together as I start making my way down the steps.

"He means it ripped," clarifies Chris wryly in response to Hayley's confused silence.

"Yeah, I can see that, but—"

"It ain't important," I cut in gruffly, picking up the pace.

It’s bad enough that I can’t get Gale out of my head. I don’t need the remnants of my unfulfilled night with her turning into a conversation piece.

Because the last thing I feel like doing — after everything that’s gone wrong tonight — is talking. About any of it. As it sure as hell isn’t gonna change anything, and it’s definitely not anyone’s business but mine and Gale's.

Reaching the landing, I divert towards the nondescript door that’s our gateway back into the hotel proper. Cracking it open, I do a quick visual sweep for potential threats before opening it more fully to let Chris and Hayley through as well.

Hayley frowns as she surveys our surroundings. "You brought us to... a gym?"

"It's the fastest way to the elevators," I tell her, striding past the glass-encased room that houses the top-of-the-line fitness equipment. "Unless you want to tackle a dozen flight of stairs in those heels?"

"No, thanks."

"Yeah. Didn't think so."

"Is he always so grumpy?" whispers Hayley to Chris... loud enough for me to hear.

"Only on Thursdays and Fridays," replies Chris in equally (un)hushed tones.

Hayley snorts in response.

I feel my jaw clench.

But we’re two yards from the elevators and the end of this fucked up night.

So, I don't let myself rise to the needling, and focus instead on the task at hand, which is making sure that Chris got back to his room without incident.

Arriving at the metal doors, I press the button to call the lift. One arrives almost instantaneously and we file in, Chris and Hayley trying and failing to hide their conspiratorial sniggers as they cast me sidelong glances.

I roll my eyes, but otherwise remain silent.

Just have to drop Chris off, and then escort Hayley down to the lobby and into a cab.

Then I’m done.

Luckily, the well-greased elevator ride is mercifully short, and we arrive on our booked-out floor within seconds.

The doors ping open.

I open my mouth...

...but Chris is faster.

"Could I tempt you with a nightcap?" he asks Hayley, extending his hand hopefully down towards the end of the hallway. "My room has quite an impressive selection of refreshments."

"Sounds like being a diplomat comes with perks," she observes with a smile.

"Absolutely," agrees Chris, placing a hand in the small of her back to guide her towards his room. “Especially when you have a beautiful companion to share them with.”

I slam my mouth shut as I step out of the lift after them.

So much for that plan...

Chris obviously isn’t ready to call it a night. But who can blame him? He has a hot girl hanging on his every word and gesture, who just agreed to come back to his hotel room. He'd be a fool not to take full advantage of the opportunity.

And honestly? With the way they’re looking at each other, I'll be surprised if they even made it to the mini bar (let alone to the bed) before they jump each other like a pair of horny jackrabbits...

...Christ knew Gale and I hadn't.

I shake my head. 

Put a sock in it, Walker!

Yanking my phone out of my pocket to distract myself from the relentlessly graphic memories, I send a quick sit-rep to Schweitzer to let him know that we've made it safely back to the hotel, and everyone can finally unclench their sphincters.

That said, I have no idea what Leo, Max and Tariq are up to… or where the hell they even are. But they’re not my priority. If they got themselves lost, locked up, or killed, that’s their problem. Not mine.

I've had enough of running around the greater New York metropolitan area for one night, praying and hoping while chasing down partial leads and best-guesses. And I’m not gettin' paid to stress about nobody but Chris, so everyone else can fall down an open man-hole and break their neck for all I care.

I’m fuckin' done with this night.

"Care to join us?"

Chris’ voice jars me from my thoughts. Glancing up, I can see him standing in the doorway of the Carnegie Suite, looking at me expectantly.

"Huh?"

"For a drink," he clarifies, no doubt catching the dumbass expression on my face. "Seeing as I ended up pulling you away from... whatever you were doing—" his gaze flicks pointedly to the ripped buttons of my shirt, "—I feel I should offer you at least some recompense. Even if it is just a late-night libation."

"Nah," I say with a shake of my head, slotting my phone away. "I'm beat. I'm calling it a night."

"Well, if you change your mind..."

I scoff. "Trust me, I won't. You don't need me crashing that particular party."

I nod my chin towards the inside of the room where Hayley is already in the process of shrugging out of her sparkly jacket as she stands silhouetted by the glow emanating from the Manhattan nightscape behind her.

Chris glances briefly over his shoulder with a wry grin. "No, I suppose not. Rain check?"

"Rain check," I agree, bumping my fist against his. "On the condition your ass stays in that room 'til departure time. And you don’t take or share any photos with her. Including the ones from the ferry. Otherwise you'll be owing me a helluva lot more than a fancy, overpriced drink.”

Chris cracks a laugh as he pulls the door around. "Duly noted! 'Night, mate! I owe you one!”

"Damn right you do!”I reply with a smirk, pulling my own keycard out. "Play safe."

"I always do," winks Chris, reaching around to slip the 'Do Not Disturb' placard onto the door handle.

A low exhale escapes me as the door — at last — clicks softly closed.

Christ, what a clusterfuck...!

Had I known that this day’s going to devolve into a never-abating conflagration of wildfires, I'd've probably got myself hammered before breakfast.

Because getting though the past 24 hours even partially sober has tested every one of my nerves. And given the fact that I've gotten basically no sleep the night before, I’m near about past going.

Which is probably why I can’t think one straight thought without tripping over Gale.

I clench my eyes shut. Definitely time to clock out...

Opening my eye, I slide the keycard into the reader with a chirp. Pushing the door handle down, I step into the darkened room.

Not bothering with the lights — given that the curtains were still open and the background glare of the nearby buildings provided plenty of illumination — I punt the door shut behind me, and head straight for the mini bar.

I may have turned down Chris's offer for a late-night drink, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna crash out sober. If anything, after the way this trip has snowballed into the definition of 'fucked up beyond all recognition', I’m in half a mind to straight up kill my liver...

...I just don’t want to do it while playing awkward third-wheel in the other room.

Arriving at the fridge, I yank the door open and survey the cop-out offerings of water, soda, beer and champagne.

I heave a breath. Well, ain’t nobody getting drunk off of this shit...

Still. It’s better than nothing.

Grabbing two bottles of beer out — because no way am I touching the champagne... even if it's Krug; the last thing I need right now on top of everything else is a motherfuckin' migraine — I pop the cap off one and take a hard swallow.

The cool malt hits the back of my throat, and I chug the rest of it down greedily, suddenly realising how parched I am.

Dropping the empty bottle back on the bar top, I’m reaching for the second when I catch sight of my reflection in the large mirror sitting behind the shelving in front of me.

Sweet Jesus, I look like death warmed up...

My hair looks like it's been chewed up and spat out by a yak, my skin’s ashen, my eyes tired and bloodshot, and I have a large, blueish welt on my jaw from where Tattoos had decked me, in addition to the claw marks that the asshole’s girlfriend left on my face.

I pull a face as I untwist the second cap.

I haven’t looked this much like buzzard bait since the literal beating I received during — and after — the one and only polo match I ever subjected myself to.

And it was clear that — just like then — I’m in desperate need of a shower.

Draining the second beer, I quickly draw the curtains before resignedly turning back the way I'd come.

Dropping my keycard into the holder on the wall to turn the lights on, I kick my boots off by the door and trudge into the bathroom.

Grabbing some towels, I throw them onto the floor and shove the faucet of the glass-panelled shower onto the hottest setting.

While waiting for the water to warm up, I bend down to pull off the ankle holsters that held the Sig P365 and tactical knife that I never go anywhere without.

Placing them carefully on the vanity, so they remained within reach, I proceed to strip off the rest of my clothes. The ruined shirt ends up on the floor, followed by the clang of my belt buckle as my jeans and boxers hit the ground.

Pulling my socks off and throwing them on top of the pile, I step into the now rapidly rising steam. A low hiss escapes me as the scalding water hits my chest. But rather than flinching away, or turning the temperature down, I lean into the spray, letting the hot water beat down onto me, like a hammer on an anvil, working the tension out of my muscles.

I have no clue how long I stand there for, head hanging down, hands braced against the wall, just soaking.

But eventually, I force myself to blink my eyes open. Because the hour’s already late, and even though I can probably stay under the spray all night, I know I need to catch some shut eye before the inevitable morning scramble to get everyone back home in time for the Masquerade Ball.

So, reaching for the travel-sized bottle of three-in-one wash that I brought with me, I proceed to lather myself from head to toe. Once done, I rinse myself off, letting the water pummel me for a few more minutes before reluctantly turning the spray off.

Unfurling one of the towels, I drop it on the marble floor so I can step out of the shower without breaking my neck. Grabbing the other towel, I run it over myself to get the worst of the moisture off before wrapping it around my waist.

Moving over to the vanity, I lift a hand to wipe the condensation off the oversized mirror and note that the hot soak has managed to bring some colour back to my face... albeit at the expense of my bruise, which has grown more pronounced as a result of the prolonged heat treatment.

Oh, well. Shit happens...

It's not like I’m a stranger to bruises. Growing up, I collected plenty of them from all the stupid shit I got up to, climbing up rickety ladders, falling out of trees, off my bike, not to mention off horses that were unquestionably too big for me.

And the hits only intensified as I got older and tried my hand at pretty much every type of sport imaginable — most of them in the contact category. Soccer, basketball, rugby, water polo, judo... I've done it all. Including American football, which Dad had begun indoctrinating me into since before I could even walk, and which I actually got a chance to play at uni as a running back.

So, a black-and-blue shiner on my face isn’t gonna faze me.

Badge of a battle well-fought, Dad always used to say.

Plus it's not like I’m reliant on my looks to get me through life. I’m not constantly in the limelight, being forced to present some kind of idealised image to the world. That’s Chris' lot. Not mine.

Thank fuck...

Though if I actually want to be able to eat anything tomorrow that’s more substantial than a milkshake, I probably should ice the bastarding thing down.

I feel a wry smirk pull at my mouth as I reach for my wash bag. 

That bottle of Krug might get a lease on life, after all...

Quickly brushing and flossing my teeth — wincing a bit at the growing tightness in my jaw — I gather up my discarded clothes (as well as my holsters) and make my way back into the room.

Placing the weapons on the bedside table — contrary to what pop culture may have you believe, it ain't a good idea to sleep with a loaded gun beneath your pillow — along with my phone and wallet, I set about sorting out my threads.

A quick once-over reveals that after all the literal running around I ended up doing, the jeans probably could do with a wash. But I only brought the one pair, so they’re going to have to do for tomorrow. The socks and boxers are unquestionably dead, so I roll them up to stow away in my duffle.

That leaves the shirt.

Grabbing either end of the split yolk, I bring the busted button-down up to eye-level to determine it's fate.

All in all, four buttons are missing, so the damage isn’t as bad as I—

From beneath the lingering hum of stale sweat, old leather and jet fuel, I suddenly catch a whiff of her honey-camomile scent, soft and sweet, like a half-remembered dream... and I nearly choke.

Goddammit...

I launch the cotton across the room with a growl of frustration.

As much as I like the shirt — it’s one of the few dressier ones that I own — there’s no way I’m gonna be able to salvage it.

Because even if it hadn't still smelled like her, the mere sight of it had been enough to throw me back into that cramped apartment... and the litany of missed opportunities that had preceded it.

And, even if I do fix it back up, I'll never be able to wear the damn thing without a stark reminder of the cold, hard fact that that's all Gale is now — a memory.

So, the sooner I burn it, the better.

Along with the shirt.

But, since I don’t have a blowtorch with me — and, in any event, setting fire to the highly flammable material in the hotel room would definitely cause a building-wide evacuation — I’m going to have to make do with simply stuffing the rag in the trash.

Heaving a beleaguered breath, I force myself to march around to the other side of the bed and pick up the shirt again. Balling it up, I dump it in the bin next to the desk.

Out of sight, out of mind.

Dropping the towel from my waist, I shuffle over to my duffle to stow my dirty clothes away and grab a fresh pair of boxers out.

Pulling the underwear on, I do a final sweep of the room before hitting the lights, grabbing the Krug to serve as an impromptu ice pack, and crawl beneath the cool sheets.

But instead of passing out as soon as my head hits the pillow, I find myself lying awake, staring into the darkness.

...fuck's sake.

The story continues in Chapter 10 - Darkfall

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Sleepless in New York only

@bebepac

Picture Credits

Staten Island Terminal - Shower - Drake - Statue of Liberty - Hayley & Chris - NYPD - Helicopter - Night

#sleepless in new york #drake walker #prince liam #new york #drake x mc #the royal romance #trr fanfic #cfwc fics of the week #choices fic writers creations #choices April monthly challenge #choices monthly challenge #Spotify

[numetalpuppygirl]

what i'm listening to november 2023. the agony

spot. link//yt link

song notes under cut

Laura Les - Haunted: haunted. by laura les.

Garbage - Queer: stand up for the fag anthem. but also let's be real one of the main draws here is the music video where shirley manson pushes the pov character down to the ground and forcibly shaves your head while singing "i know what's good for you." i'm a lesbian

Chris Fleming - W.U.G.: i've met a couple wugs in my time but more than anything i'm just on my chris fleming shit recently. this one has been stucks in my head sooo bad and bsaically anytime i see the word "guy" it comes back with a vengeance

Limp Bizkit & Method Man - N 2 Gether Now: random lb songs will really just crop up in my rotation for seemingly no reason but really this one has so many good lines and the addition of method man brings it up by so much. it's comical on some level bc it's like why is he here, he's like. a real rapper. and fred sounds so out of his depth next to him. but at the same time they both do actually really pretty good. pull the plug and then jet. MIC CHECK.

Sloppy Jane - Bark Like a God: recommended by a friend. need to listen to the full album but this goes insane goes crazy i mean those damn vocals and the THEMES ugh i mean what else do you need in this world. don't even really know what to call this band but it good and i need more

Almeda Riddle - My Little Rooster: Gummo is a 1997 American experimental drama film written and directed by Harmony Korine, starring Jacob Reynolds, Nick Sutton, Jacob Sewell, and Chloë Sevigny. The film is set (but was not filmed) in Xenia, Ohio, a Midwestern American town that had been previously struck by a devastating tornado. The loose narrative follows several main characters who find odd and destructive ways to pass time, interrupted by vignettes depicting other inhabitants of the town.

Destroy Boys - Fences: mostly just real catchy. many such cases. but there is a certain doggish quality to it as well

Enon - Natural Disasters: hi violer :3 ooh ahh the song so catchy the riff so tastey and shiney

Limp Bizkit - The Truth: i watched the band's short film of the same name recently and was pretty underwhelmed. but it did make me wanna go back and listen to the ep! it's been said to death but it's easily some of lb's best work, and not just because it's the serious one or whatever

Repo! The Genetic Opera - Night Surgeon: tbh there should be more repo on here but there's only so much space and this is undoubtedly my favorite track from the soundtrack (although "at the opera tonight" comes pretty damn close!!) i could listen to anthony head go "i remember" like that allllll day. i have been having some serious repo fixation recently i won't lie. give it a watch it's a normal movie

Foo Fighters - Everlong (Acoustic Version): okay look you guys know at this point how i get about everlong. so when i was watching hit film little nicky starring adam sandman and a rather beautiful sequence took place accompanied by a sparse acoustic version still laden in the characteristic warmth of the original song, of course i was hooked. and that's a nu metal-ass movie, too, but this was the pick i ended up making. that's special

Dropkick Murphys - I'm Shipping Up To Boston: WOOOOO BOSTON!!!!!!!! GO BRUINS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! GET ME A CUP O DUNKS!!!!!!! WOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!! YANKEES SUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! <is not from boston but rather a different place entirely

Fefe Dobson - Unforgiven: why did nobody tell me about this fuckin nu metal x y2k pop fusion. this is like rina sawayama stfu but all the way back in 200-goddamn-3. fefe you were before your time

MGMT - Little Dark Age: i don't know mgmt that well but i heard a little bit of this song in a youtube video long ago and really liked it and could never find it and then i happened to encounter it again and was like oh hello my old acquaintance shall we get to know each other better

Billy Joel - All For Leyna: beginning to realize that billy is good actually. every little part of this song is crunchy and sweet and delicious for me. and god i sure am doing it all for leyna aren't i......

Tom Cardy & Brian David Gilbert - Beautiful Mind: tbh this was far from my favorite effort from either of these guys...... didn't really think it was all that funny. had a very lol random sort of appeal that just didn't hit me right. however it does sound amazing, really clean, and they both have nice voices. plus you know i love them harmonies

Taco - Puttin' on the Ritz: they play this a lot at a cafe i go to sometimes. i used to not like this song but it's really grown on me. it's one of those absolutely one-of-a-kind songs that could have only been a hit at the exact time and place that it was. and i like stuff like that! you might even say i think it's super duper :)

Violent Femmes - Breakin' Up: this song is dumb as balls. and it sounds way better in my head than it does to actually listen to it. but! the video is really cool, with that simple but effective camera trick. i enjoy that

Bowling For Soup - Girl All the Bad Guys Want: if the previous song was dumb as balls, this song is dumb as. like. the epididymis. or like a single sperm cell. i don;t know man it's a dumb fucking song. but it's about a cool rap rocker girl :3 and that's meeeeee probably. when i listen to it i like to rate each lyric on how true it is. watching wrestling? maybe now and then. creaming over tough guys? hmmm no i would simply not do this. but listening to rap metal? turntables in her eyes?? now we're fuckin talkin!!!!!!!!!!

#it has been such a trek through mud to get this out. please enjoy #*char noises* #talking pop