#jake and lena
Text
Nightshade
Chapter 22 | Chapter 24
Holy shit it's been a minute! Hi y'all! I'm back! Life's been absolutely insane lately and finding the time or the inspiration to write has just been really hard the past month or so. So, sorry this has taken so long to get out, but to make it up to y'all here's a 40 PAGE chapter! 😅😂
TW: THIS TW CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS! The usual, language, smoking, drinking, mentions of drugs and alcohol, some very painful memories, mentions of abuse/neglect, mentions/descriptions of nudity and inappropriate photos of a minor, violence, blood, character death, panic attacks, general not so good stuff is gonna go down, unhealthy coping mechanisms (aka ignoring all the shit going wrong until we can't anymore), make out scenes, dirty talk, some minor roleplay if you squint, and finally some fuckin SMUT! Yeah, the will they won't they train has FINALLY left the station! We've got some teasing, foreplay, oral female & male receiving (kind of a little), penetration, nipple play, idk what else to tell ya xD And a little bit of unhealty family drama at the end of it :)
Also it's super late where I live so this chapter was very VERY roughly edited, so if ya see any mistakes, no you don't xD
Chapter 23: Oysters & Champagne
The greatest changes happen with time. It is the slow, steady progression that paves the way forward for bigger, brighter things. The shift between day and night, the methodical building of new cities and roads, and the lowering of one's guard to allow connection and emotion to take hold. The greatest things often happen slowly, then all at once.
As I watched Jake sign to Prue from across the diner table, taking her feedback with a determination I wouldn't have expected from him when we'd first met, it was hard not to think of Rada's old saying. “Slowly, then all at once,” Rada explained as she helped guide my brush into lighter, slower strokes. “See? Rome was not built in a day my Lena, your painting will not be perfected in that time either.”
So much had changed in the past months that it was hard to even remember how it all began. In the beginning, Jake had been just another annoying bad-boy bartender that wanted a quick easy fuck and I'd been just another closed-off, flighty back waiter. Yet, here we were, sitting side by side in a diner booth. It was strange to think that when we'd first met I wanted nothing to do with him or his flirtatious advances and now… Now I couldn't imagine a moment without him.
“Okay, okay, let me try this,” he said with a sly grin. “Your boyfriend is a pussy.”
Prue rolled her eyes, but admitted, “You're improving.”
“Thank you,” he beamed, clearly pleased with himself and his joke.
She reached over the table and flicked his head. “You're an ass.”
Jake rubbed his forehead as I laughed. “You deserved that.”
“Worth it.”
As we happily resumed eating our breakfasts the diner door opened and slammed shut. Quinn tore her jacket off and threw it into the booth as she slid in and picked up her menu. It'd been like this for a few days. Quinn would show up pissed off about something, we'd ask, she'd tell us it was nothing and then she'd get drunk every night. It was an obvious cycle of coping, the question was what she was coping with.
Prue and I shared a glance, trying to work out the best way to approach the subject. Jake, however, just went straight into speaking, “What's crawled up your ass?”
“Nothing,” she ground out glaring at him from behind her menu.
He laughed. “And you call me grumpy.”
Something in her finally broke. “Fuck you, at least I have a reason to be so grumpy!”
“Yeah?” He continued to press, the asshole in him just unable to contain his glee at getting a rise out of someone. “Like what?”
“Like my dumbass fucking dad showing up!”
The silence that followed was interrupted by the sound of our forks clacking against the plates. Quinn's dad was something serious, something that rarely came up anymore but serious all the same. He was a known addict who spent her entire childhood bouncing between neglect and full-fledged abuse. When Quinn lived across the street from us we could hear him yelling and throwing things at all hours of the day. At night he'd leave, sometimes for weeks at a time, and Quinn would essentially come and live with us until her dad came pounding on our door demanding his kid back.
My dad had beat the shit out of him more times than I could remember, but other than that there wasn't much we could do, not when Quinn refused to let us. For years she held out hope that her dad would one day get things figured out and they could be a real family. That hope died when she turned sixteen and he disappeared. After she'd grown up and gotten on her own two feet he started showing up at random asking for money or a place to stay while he “figured some things out”, but that always ended the same. With Quinn brokenhearted.
“Your dad's back in town?” I asked. “Why didn't you say anything?”
“It doesn't matter,” she responded.
“Yes, it does! We all know what he puts you through, Quinn. We could-”
“You could do nothing because unlike you I don't have two big brothers and a drug dealer on speed dial.” The harsh words settled over the table, sinking into both of us for a minute before Quinn shook her head and relented to the tired ache in her. “I… I'm sorry, Lee. I didn't mean that.”
“It's okay,” I reassured her, reaching across the table to take her hand. “I know.”
Tears built in her eyes but she wouldn't cry, not because of him, not ever again. “I told him to fuck off already so he's probably halfway back into whatever hole he crawled out of.”
Prue put her arm around Quinn's shoulder and hugged her. “Want us to stay with you? I can close up shop for the day.”
“I can call in,” I offered.
“I can say pussy,” Jake added, getting a laugh out of her. “Seriously though, I dunno what they're saying but… Fuck your dad.”
She sniffled and shook off the wave of sorrow. “Thanks, all of you, but I'm good.”
Holding out her pinky Prue gave her a look. “Pinky swear?”
Quinn shook it and nodded. “Pinky swear.”
“And, just for the record,” I said, “My brothers would always come to help you, Quinn. So would Dom. You're not alone.”
“I know,” she whispered, but I could see what was left unsaid in her eyes. It's not the same. We may have been Quinn's found family, but the hurt in her was the same as Patrick felt. She knew she wasn't blood… She knew if it came to a choice between me and her my brothers would choose me every time. And nothing I said or did would change her mind on it.
The ring of Jake's phone broke the uneasy silence. He checked the number with narrow eyes. “It's Dom.”
“Dom's calling you?” Quinn questioned, forcing herself to relax even just partially.
“Okay, what did you guys do that day I was gone?” I teased. “First he's actually using your government name, then he's calling you on the phone?”
Jake shushed me as he answered. “Hey, what's up? Uh… No, I don't. Sure, I guess. Yeah, see you in a bit.”
“What was that about?”
“Apparently I'm getting a couch and a TV.”
I shook my head and nudged him. “Seriously, what did you do?”
Jake shrugged, taking a final bite of his food before standing. “Don't worry bout it, Princess. See you at work.”
“See you at work,” I replied. “Don't break any legs trying to move that shit into your tiny apartment.”
He flipped me off as he made his way out the diner door and headed out. When I turned back to the table Quinn and Prue were both grinning at me. “You've seen his apartment now?”
“It's not a big deal,” I replied.
“Is this part of that juicy phone call I intercepted a while ago?” Her eyebrows rose. “A sexy debt if I remember correctly.”
“I have no clue what you're talking about.”
Prue slapped her hands on the table. “Spill it!”
“There's nothing to spill,” I insisted.
“Bullshit!” Quinn interjected. “You were gone all day.”
With a roll of my eyes and a giddy, girlish feeling making my stomach fill with butterflies I caved. “We just hung out and took a few pictures with his camera.”
Quinn's brows wiggled. “Sexy pictures?”
“Maybe…”
Prue happily squeaked. “Oh my god did you two finally-”
“No.”
Quinn groaned, throwing her head back. “Oh my god! Just fuck already!”
I shook my head. “Classy, Quinn.”
“Seriously!” She continued. “I feel like I'm getting blue balled and I'm not even involved in your almost fucks!”
“Just think about how great it would feel to finally do it,” Prue added. “I know I was absolutely buzzing when Will and I finally did!”
“I…” With a sigh I looked down and quickly, quietly admitted. “I have thought about it.”
Quinn quickly translated for Prue and both of them became insatiable for the rest of breakfast.
*
Jake watched the bikers easily maneuver the decently sized couch and the modest TV around the stairs and up into his apartment. He'd attempted to help a few times but quickly got told to “bugger off” by what looked like an eighty-year-old man, so he just stood and watched. Dom stood next to him, silently observing before he finally asked, “Well, what do you think?”
“It looks good,” he answered. “Still a bit confused as to why you're giving me this shit but hey, frees free.”
Dom chuckled, a real chuckle. “I don't got the room for it, besides, you earned it.”
Shaking his head, Jake once again reiterated the facts. “I didn't do anything. I just-”
“You just protected her,” Dom finished for him. “That ain’t nothin’, Jake.”
“Yeah, but I don't need… Payment or anything for it.” He looked at Dom, meeting the hardened eyes. “I didn't do it for that.”
“I know.” The drug dealer clapped him on the shoulder. “Consider it a gift then.”
“Didn't take you for a guy that gave out gifts.”
“I'm not, so just say thank you and we'll never speak of it again.”
Jake chuckled. “Thank you, Dom.”
“Shut up,” he answered, nodding to the new space. “It's a bit crowded.”
With a shrug, Jake just examined the soft leather. “It's not too bad. I'm used to tight spaces.”
Hemingway leaped onto the sofa, purring as he rubbed the soft leather on his skin. “Well, at least the cat likes it.” Dom watched the others leave and moved to follow. “Call me if you can't get the TV workin'. I'll have John come out and fix it.”
“John's the one that calls me a twit, right?”
“Yep.”
“I'm sure the TV works fine.” He waved them off and closed the door, staring at the tiny living room he now had set up.
It wasn't perfect or fancy, most people would even argue that it was too much for the already cramped space, but Jake kind of liked it. His chair had gotten pushed into the back corner with his guitar on top of it. The edges of the couch left only a little room for people to slide past to the bathroom, but he rarely had company over so that didn't matter much. The TV fit on top of one of his shelves and left enough room for him to put DVDs or VHS tapes up too. He'd moved the thin coffee table he never used into the center of the space, pushing it up against the shelf a bit so there was enough legroom for the couch and then he sat down.
“Well,” he asked, turning towards the cat. “What do you think?”
Hemingway's only response was a loud purr as he curled up on the section of couch that was bathed in sunlight.
Jake chuckled at the creature and settled into the leather, resting his head against the back of the couch. “Yeah, it's pretty nice.”
*
22West was relatively quiet when I got in. The kitchen was almost done with prep work and from what I could tell we weren't overbooked. The locker room was empty and stayed empty as I changed into my work attire. It felt kind of nice, to have a moment of quiet to myself at the start of a hopeful easy shift.
Jake set his bike down by the door and quickly entered, hair still disheveled. I closed my locker and smirked at him. “You're running later than normal.”
“I fell asleep,” he answered, practically tearing the locker open and throwing his newly returned jacket to me. I opened my mouth to protest, but he just gave me a look over his shoulder, “Just let this one be easy for me tonight?”
“Fine,” I agreed, reopening my locker and shoving the jacket inside. “Just this once.”
“Thanks, princess.”
“How was moving your couch in?”
Jake just chuckled. “I barely touched the damn thing. The bikers took care of everything.”
I nodded in agreement. “Yeah, they're pretty efficient when they wanna be. So, are you ever gonna spill the beans on why you're all so buddy-buddy all of a sudden?”
He glanced at me, a fleeting thing shining in his eyes before he looked down at his tie and shrugged. “There’s nothing to tell, really. I just came looking for you and they… Respected that.”
Glaring at him through narrow eyes I reached up and helped him with his tie. “Likely story.”
“You worried they'll start to like me better than you?” He teased.
“As if!” I laughed. “You're not nearly that charming.”
With a smirk, Jake leaned forward, “So how charming do you think I am?”
Humming in thought I knew the real answer. The instant, resounding too charming filled my brain for a minute before I answered. “I'd say you're a solid four.”
“Four?!” He scoffed. “I'm higher than four.”
“You certainly think so,” I replied with a wicked grin, my hands smoothing down his chest. His phone buzzed against the metal material of his locker. “I'll save you a plate, sweetie.”
Rolling his eyes he answered with a simple, “Thanks.”
Once I'd emerged from the kitchen the noise that the restaurant had been absent of, filled the space. Everyone was gathered around the wall instead of at the table eating. They whispered to one another, giggling and making suggestive faces. “What are we giggling about?”
Sasha smirked, giddily grabbing my wrist to pull me towards the wall. “We are just admiring the new painting that has graced our humble restaurant!”
The crowd parted and my heart stopped dead in my chest. There, hanging on the wall in front of me was, well, me. My portrait. My nude portrait. I felt lightheaded, my vision blurring, and the voices of everyone joking and teasing were suddenly drowned out by a loud, shrill ringing.
It wasn't the sight of my nude body that filled me with a sense of dread. Though I still hated the sight of it - of what it had originally represented - it was the large splatter of crimson that stained the canvas that truly made my heart sink. It was the vivid and violent contrast between the soft hues of acrylic and the hard flakes of dried blood.
My brush slid along the canvas, the bright hues of blue and yellow, and lavender contrasting against the neutral skin tones of my self-portrait. I'd struggled to look at it, the fleshy rendering of my mostly nude figure. Its imperfections made me feel even more inadequate than I already did, the reference photo being one of the first that Tony had taken of me. That was his art, dressing and posing me to look perfect - to look like the beautiful and obedient woman he always said I'd grow into.
Truthfully I hadn't even considered painting something for this upcoming gala, having known well in advance they only wanted nudes or mostly sos to display. That wasn't what I painted, nor was it something I was particularly interested in doing, but Tony had insisted. So, there it was in all its hideous, imperfect glory. The portrait of a self I didn't even feel was me, but rather the hollow husk everyone else wanted. Everyone but Rada.
She peered over her shoulder, watching me paint for a moment as she cleaned the penthouse living room. The look on her face told me that she hated it as much as I did. But, she said nothing about how cold and lifeless it felt or about how she thought it in poor taste to paint a fourteen-year-old nude. Rada just kept cleaning, offering me what reassurance she could, like she always did. And like always, just knowing she was here was enough.
The elevator dinged open and Jules held Tony up, guiding him to the nearest chair and helping him get settled. It was obvious that he'd just got back from one of his benders on the flight back from France so I tried to keep my eyes to myself. Tony was never predictable per se, but he was always constant. His violence was never random, nor was it ever out of the blue. But, that changed when he got high enough.
“I'll go get the doctor, just to be certain you haven't taken too much.”
He chuckled. “Ever loyal, my dear friend. Some in the house could learn from you.”
The jab was obviously meant for me, but I kept my eyes on my painting, hoping it would spare me his anger for at least tonight. Jules exited quickly and with him gone, everything fell apart. The first noise I heard was the sound of metal clinking against the marble countertop, and the next was the bone-chilling sound of the cylinder of his revolver spinning.
My brush froze on the canvas, ears honing into the slow steps he took toward me before he hauled me up by the hair. “Let's play a game, baby girl.”
“I…” The words struggled to find their way from my throat as my eyes caught Rada's. “I have to finish my painting for the gala tomorrow.”
“It can wait,” he insisted, throwing me back into the counter and pinning me against it.
He spun the cylinder again, a crazed grin settling on his lips as he held it to his head and pulled the trigger twice. As always, he laughed when I flinched and then forced the gun into my hand. “I don't-” His finger forced my own down onto the trigger.
The game played out like it always did until Tony's smile faltered and a rage seemed to fill his eyes. “Do you love me?”
I'd spoken the words so many times before then, but for some reason, I froze. My brain screamed at me, begging me to say it - to tell him I loved him, but deep in my heart I knew the truth. I don't love you. This isn't love. The rage spilled from his eyes, overtaking his face as he struck me hard enough to make my head hit the counter. The blow was enough to force the words out, “I do! You know I love you!”
“Is that right?” He spat, carelessly tossing the gun onto the counter and holding my head down on it. I gripped at him, searching for skin to scratch or anything to get him off me. “You didn't seem so sure just a moment ago.”
“No! I'm sure! I… I was just confused!”
“Confused?” He laughed, a sound that sent chills up my spine and made my muscles all tense. “Stupid girl. Do you even understand?” He hauled me up, holding my face in one of his hands so hard I could feel my jaw crack. “You're alive because I want you. If it weren't for me, you'd be nothing!”
“I know!” My lips trembled as I blinked back tears. “I'm nothing without you, Tony. I know that. Please…”
I prepared myself for another bout of his laughter, or another blow maybe, but neither came. Instead, I heard the cock of Tony's gun and a surprised… Annoyed sound leave his throat. “What do you think you're doing?”
“Let go of her,” Rada demanded. From the corner of my blurred vision, I could just barely see her, standing at the end of the counter pointing Tony's gun at him with slightly trembling hands. “You let her go now, or I swear on all of God's holy saints I will kill you.”
He laughed then, that deep, boisterous one that sent terror through me. Turning his head Tony smiled at me. “Seems you're not the only one that's forgotten their place.”
Through the tight grip of his hands, I begged, pleaded with him, “Please…”
With one harsh shove, my head collided with the counter enough to make my ears ring and my vision spin. I could hear his footsteps and the quiet sound of the gun's trigger being pulled.
Click.
Fear, desperate and heavy, filled my lungs and stole my breath as I scrambled to find my bearings.
Click.
Click.
Click.
Bang.
My vision cleared just in time to watch Rada collapse half on top of my painting. Blood gushed from the side of her neck, spraying across the canvas and staining the carpet. A sharp breath finally filled my lungs, yet I still found them breathless. “NO!”
I scrambled forward, pressing my hands to her neck and desperately trying to apply enough pressure to stop the bleeding. Her body shook beneath me, at least it felt that way… It could have been my own shaking. Through the sound of her gurgling breaths, I could hear Tony laughing. “L… Le…”
“Shh,” I urged. “Don't talk. Just hold on. Someone's gonna help.”
Rada smiled, tears filling her eyes as she struggled to lift a hand to lovingly brush my hair behind my ear. “My… Bea…utifil…” Blood splattered across my face as she coughed. “Da… Daugh…”
I could feel her skin grow cold as her chest stuttered and then stopped. “No! Mama please!” I sobbed, moving my hands to shake her shoulders. “Don't leave me here! Mama!”
“What's happened?” Jules’ voice cut through my screams as he burst into the room.
Tony, still laughing, waved him off. “One of the maids got a bit too bold. Don't worry, my friend, I took care of it.”
Rage filled me, rage and grief and a forever-festering desire to end it all. Chest heaving and lungs burning I stood and turned to the kitchen as Jules helped Tony back to his seat. I grabbed a knife from the counter and ran forward with a wail. Tony's eyes shined at the sight of me and the knife flying toward him as if this was what he wanted. Jules turned his head and with no hesitation, he threw himself between Tony and me.
Blood, hot and sticky, splashed my hands and face as my knife met flesh.
*
Jake glared at the message on his phone, a sense of regret and shame making him feel sick to his stomach.
Won't be back for another day or two. - Simone
When Jake had finally worked up the courage to answer her calls on Thanksgiving morning she'd been livid. She screamed at him for being so selfish and childish and demanded he stop with his attitude and come with her. He'd held his ground, of course, but the sting of her anger always made him feel like a pathetic eight-year-old boy being scolded. Jake had said sorry. He'd texted her, checking in, he even tried to call, but she'd given him nothing in response until now.
He breathed out a frustrated breath and put his phone back in his pocket, shutting his locker and hurrying downstairs to distract himself from the weight of his feelings with food and his friends gossiping. That, however, was not what he walked into. The group gathered around one of the walls, laughing and asking questions when he approached. “The fucks everyone pissing themselves over?”
Ari shifted, revealing more of the large painting that now hung on the wall of the restaurant. Jake’s jaw dropped at the sight of a nude figure - a body he'd grown most familiar with in the past months. If he'd been unsure at all, the bold curves of her name labeling the corner of the piece erased it. Lena.
The redhead in question stood, frozen staring up at it as Sasha talked and teased in her ear. A cold shiver crawled up his spine at the sight of her. This wasn't just some embarrassing nude portrait. This was something else. Something that made her spine stiffen and her skin lose its color.
Jake shoved past everyone and moved between Lena and Sasha. The Russian cursed at him in the foreign language. “What the hell?”
“Fuck off Sasha!”
With a prideful scoff, he turned away, shooing the crowd. “Bossy bossy!”
“Lena,” Jake whispered, reaching out for her. His fingers barely grazed her arm before she recoiled, a quick reaction he would have missed if he'd not been paying attention. She turned and looked at him with glossy eyes and a dead expression that made his gut tighten and his heart drop. “Lena?”
With a sharp exhale and a staggering step, she was moving. She stepped around him, shoved through the crowd and across the lobby. Her body flung itself through the kitchen doors and Jake followed, not even sure if it was what she'd want. The second he entered behind her he found her hunched over the garbage, throwing up the breakfast they'd shared. The kitchen crew all made noises of disgust and Scott dropped his utensils to turn and look at the disruption. “What the hell, Red?”
Lena composed herself, wiping the spit from her mouth with a shaking hand. “S-sorry chef.”
“Are you good now?” Scott asked, his tone as harsh and uncaring as it always was, but his eyes narrowed in concern.
Isaac had dropped everything and rushed to the front of the line, held off only by her raising a hand to stop him as she shook her head. “I… Just…” She looked like she was about to puke again, but held it back. “I just need a minute.”
As she turned toward the stairs, not meeting his eyes, Jake felt his worry shift to anger. This had to be him. The Anthony that Dom had told him about. And in that moment, Jake understood Patrick's bitterness about how little he truly knew. He felt unprepared - unequipped to offer Lena any help, but even with that aching feeling, Jake followed her up the stairs. He'd be there, no matter what she needed from him, Jake would be there.
*
I knew I was moving, talking. I could feel each strained movement and hear each shaky reply. None of it registered. In my mind, I was still standing in front of that painting… Still in the penthouse living room watching my mom bleed out. I was stuck, or my mind was, reliving that moment over and over again while my body just kept moving on autopilot.
“What can we do when we feel stuck?” Dad asked.
“Keep moving.”
“Keep moving. Find something to ground you.”
“Keep moving,” I murmured to myself as I stumbled up the stairs. “Just keep moving.”
I could hear someone following me up, but I didn't stop or look back. I just had to keep going. One foot in front of the other. When I finally made it to the locker room bathroom I barely registered slamming the door shut and fumbling for the knobs of the faucet. It felt like my head was spinning with the noise and the heat and the nausea.
“Get out,” I told myself in the mirror trying to focus on my face and drown out the sound of Tony's laugh with the running water. “Get out.”
“Stupid girl. Do you even understand?”
I was going to throw up again. “Get out.”
“If it weren't for me, you'd be nothing.”
A pounding came from the door as it got harder and harder to breathe. “Get out.”
“I'm the only one that could ever love you.”
In the background, I heard the door open, but whoever was standing in it was distorted… Replaced by Tony's laughing face and his thin frame. It isn't real, I told myself, but my body was already gone. Desperate panic forced the shrill cry from my lips, “GET OUT!”
Whoever it was vanished, but the fear didn't go with them. Every inch of me shook as I scrambled to find a foothold in reality. I needed something, anything to keep me from passing out. “Find something to ground you.”
There was one thing that would keep me going. One thing I could use. I turned the cold water off and stuck my hands beneath the boiling water. The pain made everything else fade away, forcing my body to stay on its feet and pulling my mind to the present. My heart hammered in my chest and a pained cry echoed in my ears as I stared into my own reflection.
Tears stained my cheeks and my hair had tiny clumps of throw up in it. It wasn't pretty, but it was real. I was here. The door opened again and Isaac opened his mouth, obviously having prepared something to say. That something vanished as he watched the steam rise up from the sink and he realized what I was doing. He ran forward and turned the water off, switching it to cold as he looked at my red hands. “Shit!”
“I couldn't get out,” I whispered in a broken… Pathetic voice.
Isaac held me from behind, keeping my hands beneath the now-cold water as I began to shake again. The pain was gone and without it, everything else started to creep back in. “It's okay, Lena. It's okay.”
“I…” A breathless whine caught in my throat. “I can't get out.”
“You're out,” he answered. “You're here.”
“I… I…” My body lurched forward, bile spewing from my mouth as panic began to set back in.
Isaac squeezed my hands and stammered before he released me. “Okay… Fuck… Okay, I… I'm gonna call Peter.”
I shut my eyes, setting my head against the chilled sink. “Getoutgetoutgetoutgetout.”
Without even really thinking I shut the cold water off and reached for the hot water knob. Find something to ground yourself. A hand settled on top of mine as a new body settled in Isaac's place behind me, one I recognized instantly. “Stop.”
Jake.
Standing upright I opened my eyes, I stared into his eyes through the mirror. “Can you tell me what you need?”
Clenching my jaw I shook my head as my chest stuttered with repressed sobs. “That's okay.” Jake gently pulled my arms back, crossing them over my chest and holding me tightly to his. “Can you feel my heartbeat?”
I nodded.
“Can you feel my breaths?”
I nodded again.
“Breathe with me,” he whispered, pressing his head to mine as he quietly counted. I watched us through the mirror for a minute before I let my eyes shut. Jake's steady breaths fanned across my neck, his heart beat against my back and his warm embrace sank into my bones. It was like his whole body was speaking to mine… Telling it that there was no danger. I was safe. “That's it, just breathe, Princess. You're here. You're safe with me.”
I'm safe. I'm with Jake. Slowly my breaths began to even out and my brain felt less muddled. I'm with Jake. My body stopped shaking and eventually, all that was left was us. I'm safe.
Isaac's panicked voice echoed as he walked back towards the bathroom door. “I don't know what to do! She's… I don't even know how to explain it.”
Swallowing, I quietly asked, “Is he talking to my brother?”
“Yeah,” Jake answered. “He got worried.”
“Can you tell him I'm okay now? I…” I opened my eyes and met Jake's gaze. “I don't want Peter to come all the way down here. Please.”
“Okay.” He looked down at the sink.
“I'm good now,” I assured him. “I'm just gonna sit down for a minute.”
If it were anyone else they'd likely have fought me, but this was Jake. He knew I wasn't lying. His hold on me loosened and he carefully helped me sit on top of the toilet lid. “I'll be right back.”
While the muffled conversation carried on outside the door I just sat there, staring at my reddened hands with an empty sense of impending doom. He was here. In this restaurant. He'd hung that painting where every guest, everyone passing close enough by the windows, would be able to see it. Still, I knew it wasn't about publicly shaming me. If that were the case he would've chosen to frame one of the many photos he had of me. This was a personal message. A reminder.
“If you're going to play games, you'd best be prepared to do whatever it takes to win.” He reminded me often after that night, that Rada had played and lost. That Francois had played and lost. Everyone always lost. “They don't have the mind or the stomach to win this game of ours, baby girl. We're still the only ones even playing.”
Deep down I knew what this meant. I knew, yet I refused to think it - to breathe life into that horrifying and terrible thought. He didn't get to toy with me. He didn't get to scare me out of this life.
This life was mine. I had survived his horrors, I'd taken the blows and I'd made my choices. I had fought and bled and killed for this life. He didn't get to take that away, not now, not ever. He didn't get to win.
I wiped my eyes and forced everything back into that box deep inside me. Once my feet steadied I walked out into the locker room where Jake had taken the phone from Isaac and was trying to talk my brothers down. I held my hand out. “Let me talk to them.”
Jake watched me for a minute before he nodded, “She wants to talk to you. Here.”
“Thanks.” I held the phone to my ear, listening to Patrick in the background throwing things around in search of his shoes. “I'm fine. Just stay home and take care of the gym.”
“Fuck that!” Patrick yelled.
“Is he there?” Peter asked, his voice filled with the rage he rarely had.
Sparing a glance at Jake I answered, “No. He's not stupid enough to show up with Dom around.”
“Then what happened?”
Flashes filled my head again as I forced myself to answer. “It's just a painting, Pete.”
“Which painting?”
“One you don't have to worry about,” I bit in bitter frustration. “Just… Please don't come. Please.”
“Lena you-”
“I am fine.” I insisted coldly. “I… I just want to work, okay? Can you just let me do that?”
Peter was quiet for a moment before he asked, “Promise me you're safe?”
As if on their own, my eyes drifted to Jake again, meeting those sea-blue eyes. “I promise.”
He shouted at Patrick before speaking again. “Okay. Put Isaac back on.”
“Thank you.” I turned towards the door where Isaac stood biting his nails. “Here.”
I watched him move out of the locker room, talking to my brother for a second before I turned back to Jake. What do I say? I asked myself. He no doubt had a thousand questions, all of which would be tied up in the painting… Which was tied up in Rada and Tony and everything I didn't want him to know. So, when his mouth opened I stopped breathing. “What do you need?”
What? My brain went blank in seconds as I gaped at him. “W… Don't you have like a million questions?”
“Course I do,” he replied simply. “The most important of them being that one. So, what do you need?”
“Honestly? I… Kinda wanna just forget this ever happened.” I admitted looking down at my feet. “
“That's gonna be kinda hard with that thing hanging up out there.”
“Yeah, it is.”
He shrugged a shoulder and moved to pass me. “Gimme one minute.”
I followed him to the door. “What are you doing?”
“Just trust me, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Sasha!” He hollered, heading across the hall toward the front room. “Give me a hand real quick?”
Service started before Jake came back and so I jumped into work. I used it to distract myself from obsessing over the fact that hundreds of rich assholes were out there, no doubt looking at my painting - my body. That got harder to do when Will moved me to back waiting. The first follow of my night felt like I was walking right into a lion's den. And then it suddenly wasn't.
I didn't know what they did, all I knew was when I walked out of the kitchen and into the sea of customers, the painting was nowhere in sight. I looked at Jake as he worked behind the bar, and all the answer he offered me was a smile.
After that, the night felt a little less heavy and before I knew it we were all gathering around the bar for after shift drinks. I gave Nicky a pat on the back and smiled. “Head home Nick, I'll get it all closed up.”
“You sure?” He asked, handing me his bar rag.
“Go on,” I urged.
Jake and I worked side by side, serving drinks to each of our friends as they all mingled and began to filter out the door. It felt good to be behind the bar with him again, but whenever I looked up all I could see was that painting on the wall. Fighting that foreboding feeling was tiring and not something I wanted to spend all night doing.
“So,” Jake started cautiously as he stacked a few glasses. “Today was a lot.”
I sighed and looked down at the bartop. “Yeah… Sorry about earlier. I wasn't trying to be… I dunno, pathetic.”
“You were hardly pathetic,” he assured me.
“Thanks,” I whispered, finally looking up at him.
“For what?”
“Grounding me.” Suddenly shy beneath his gaze I looked away. “I have a hard time coming out of episodes like that and you… You made it less shitty. A lot less shitty. So, thank you.”
His fingers combed through my hair as he brushed it behind my ear. “No problem, Princess.”
“Let's get drunk tonight.”
With a smirk, he asked, “You think that'll help?”
“Can't hurt to try.” I shrugged, repeating the words he'd told me. “Besides, I kinda want you to be all over me again.”
Jake's smirk grew wider, turning to pull my body into his. “Like this?”
I nodded, happily drinking in the warmth and the smell of him. “Yeah. Like that.”
“Come on then,” he answered, tugging me out from behind the bar and throwing his jacket around my shoulders. “Let's go.”
*
Jake watched Lena dance from the bar as he nursed his first and likely only drink for the night. She'd been drinking steadily since they arrived, though no one seemed to want to discourage her from it. Peter and Patrick had told Dom shortly after Lena had talked them out of coming and so he and the bikers were nowhere in sight. Whether that was something to worry about or not, he didn't know.
At first, he'd considered talking to the brothers about the whole situation, but Patrick had just given him a shake of his head and nodded to Lena. A reminder that everything - or almost everything - they did was on her terms. They'd discuss it when she was ready to. She'll never be ready to, he told himself.
Lena was strong and stubborn. In those first months, he'd thought she was fearless. The longer he spent with her - with everyone - the more he realized that no one was truly unafraid. Everyone feared something and that was okay… It was normal to be afraid. Fear often meant that you cared about something outside of yourself. But, Lena's fear was something entirely different. Her fear was intertwined with her anger and her sorrow. So much of her was packed into the threads she refused to acknowledge let alone pull on.
So, she'd keep drinking and dancing and moving forward. She'd leave seeing that painting in the restaurant as buried as whatever memory it was tied to. And, though his stomach twisted into knots at the thought of leaving her panic attack in the bathroom unresolved, Jake would let her have this. He had to.
After an hour he excused himself outside, not bothering to take the alley to the couch while the bikers had vacated their spot out front of the bar. He grabbed his jacket from Lena's seat and fished out his cigarettes and his lighter, moving to pull one out when he looked up and saw Quinn. She was boxed up against the wall outside by an older, angry-looking man - her father if he had to guess. From the door, Jake could see the tears building in her eyes as he screamed at her and grabbed her arms to shake her. His jaw clenched and his feet carried him toward her. “Hey!”
“Jake-” she tried to interrupt.
He ignored her, shoving the man's filthy hands off Quinn and occupying the spot in front of her. “Get the fuck out of here.”
Her dad laughed. “You’re a real tough guy, huh? Do you know who the fuck I am?”
“Don't care.” Jake shoved him again when he tried to get up in his face.
“You're gonna regret this,” he said, spitting at Jake's feet as he glared at Quinn and slunk back into the night mumbling and grumbling curses and threats under his breath.
He waited until the man had vanished around the corner to turn to Quinn. She was closed off, almost angry as she huffed, “You didn't have to do that.”
“I know,” Jake answered, lighting his cigarette. He took a drag before wordlessly offering it to her. Quinn accepted and smoked in silence alongside him. “So, that's your dad?”
“Yep.”
“Seems like a real charmer.”
She sighed. “Yeah.”
Jake recognized the look in her eyes, that painful anger. “I never knew my dad, but he probably wasn't too different from your old man.”
“It sucks, right?” she asked, looking up at him. “Being so… Unimportant to someone that's supposed to love you.”
“Yeah, it does,” he earnestly replied. “But, we've got other people, you know… Better people.”
“I know,” she whispered. “That's different though.”
With a solemn nod, he agreed, “I know it is.”
“Thanks,” she said, clearing her throat. “For the smoke.”
“No problem. And, if he shows up again or bothers you or whatever, just call me and I'll come take care of it.”
“You don't have to worry about me,” Quinn insisted with a sad look.
It was a simple, sad sentence, one Jake had used countless times before. He knew the ugly truth that hid behind the words. I don't want to be weak. Weak. It was laughable to think anyone found Quinn weak. In all the time he'd known her, she was nothing short of sassy, strong, and confident. Yet, here, on the side of the street, Quinn looked small.
She must've felt small too, the way she kept glancing at him with that fearful hint of shame. Jake felt a few things swirl around in his chest. Anger that her shitty dad made her feel like this small and unimportant. Sad that her shitty dad made her feel unloved. But the strongest among them was a new, blinding need to protect her. Jake wanted to make sure Quinn never felt that way ever again and it was frightening for a moment. However scared he was of this new responsible feeling, he quickly decided that he didn't care.
He didn't care how scared he was, he knew Quinn and he knew that she deserved the same kind of family that she'd given him with her persistence and her meddling. “Yeah, but what kinda big brother would I be if I didn't.”
Her eyes filled with tears as she looked up at him and breathed out a soft laugh. “I…I've never had a big brother before.”
“I've never been one before,” he replied, looking anywhere but her face. “Guess it'll be something new for both of us.”
Quinn nodded, and without another word, she stepped forward and hugged him. “Well, just for the record, I can't think of a better idiot to be my big brother.”
He held her close, letting the words fill him with pride. “I have my smart moments.”
They held each other for a moment longer, both holding onto that feeling of family that neither of them had known - at least not like this. Then Quinn pulled away, wiping her eyes. “We should get back inside.”
“Yeah, we should.” He replied, following her with a steady arm around her shoulder.
*
I downed the shot in one quick motion, shaking off the burning tingling feeling that engulfed my face after. It felt nice to forget. The tingling was all I could really focus on… Well, the only other thing I could focus on.
Jake had been cool and collected all day. He'd handled the painting, the panic attack, and everything else seemingly with ease. While I made quick work of every drink Ian made, he slowly drank his beer and watched me with amusement. It reminded me of the last time I'd gotten wasted, what little of it I could remember.
Want. No matter how much I drank or how much I kept putting the big shit off, the want never lessened. As I watched Jake with that stoic face of his, all I could think about were those heated moments between us. All I could think about was how badly I wanted to do all of them again. So, with a wide, drunken grin I took hold of his hand and started pulling him through the crowd. “Come on!”
He chuckled but let me drag him to the back hall next to the bathrooms. “You gonna hurl?”
“No,” I giggled, stumbling into his chest. “I wanna kiss you!”
“Yeah? And we had to come over here to do that?”
“I'm not gonna make out with you in front of my dad!” I replied in a giddy, hushed whisper. “Do you wanna kiss or not?”
Jake stepped forward, backing me into the wall, his hands landing on my hips as I stared up at him in awe. “I always wanna kiss you, princess.”
With a satisfied hum, I gripped his shirt and pulled him towards me. “Good.”
In the dimly lit hallway surrounded by noise and bodies somehow in my mind, it was just the two of us. Jake's lips moved in time with my own, our hands grabbing at one another with a furious need to somehow be closer. The slight buzz of the alcohol made my head feel light and erased all of the lingering unknowns from my mind entirely. It was that mix that made me feel bold enough to touch Jake exactly how I wanted to.
I palmed him through his jeans, swallowing every moan until he pulled away from my lips with a groan. He squeezed my hips, closing his eyes and leaning his head back. “Fuck.”
Smiling, I leaned forward and kissed his neck. “You're so pretty.”
“If you were sober I…” He groaned again as my teeth scraped his Adam's apple.
“You'd what?”
Jake looked down at me and shook his head, hands leaving my hips to take hold of my face. “I'd do a lot of things.”
“Sounds fun. Would I like it?”
“Definitely,” he whispered.
I smirked. “How do you know?”
Bumping our noses together Jake shrugged, “I have it on good authority I excel at the art of pleasure.”
“Hmm,” I hummed playfully, “I think you're just overconfident.”
“I'll just have to give you a private demonstration.” He sighed against my lips, amused and frustrated all at once. “When you're sober.”
“When I’m sober,” I repeated, pressing another kiss to his lips. “Raincheck?”
He chuckled. “Raincheck.”
“We can still make out though, right?”
“Absolutely,” he answered, pressing me back into the wall and wasting no time reconnecting our lips.
It wasn't until Patrick rounded the corner and quickly covered his eyes with a disgruntled groan. “God, can a man use the toilet without havin' to see his sister doing… that?”
With haste, Jake and I fixed our clothes and bashfully leaned against the wall. “Sorry, Pat.”
He walked past us, shaking his head. “I don't wanna see none of that when I walk back out. Get a room or something.”
The rest of the night was filled with laughter and too many shots, but it was good. As we played our shitty drinking games and teased one another I was blissfully content. All thoughts of the restaurant, the painting, Rada, Tony… It was pushed so far into the back of my mind that it was nothing more than a blurry memory.
As Jake walked Quinn and me to my apartment I noticed how relaxed she seemed. Even in my slightly drunk state, I recognized how the tension seemed to have lifted from her shoulders as she walked beside Jake with a smile. She felt safe with him and it made my chest feel warm and fuzzy. When we reached my door, she turned and hugged him and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”
“Anytime,” he replied, awkwardly patting her head. “I mean it.”
“I know.”
Giving them both a fond look I pressed one last kiss to Jake's lips. “Goodnight, tough guy. Try not to get beat up on your way home.”
He chuckled. “I'll do my best.”
“Tell our cat goodnight from me!”
“Goodnight, Lena,” he hollered as he walked down the sidewalk.
Inside Quinn and I flopped onto my bed, both tossing and turning, fighting over the blanket to try and get comfortable. “Hey,” I whispered as we both finally settled. “What happened tonight?”
She snuggled into the pillow and shook her head. “Don’t worry about it, Lee.”
“Quinn-”
“Seriously,” she replied quickly, a smile tugging at her lips. “My big brother took care of it.”
Even in my inebriated state, I didn’t need to ask who she was talking about. The answer was clear. I smiled and closed my eyes. “Jake’s good at that.”
“Yeah, he is.”
*
Jake stood in front of the bar, watching the workers closely as they situated the lights. Mr. Hiragana and I walked through the space of the new restaurant, now finally cleared of garbage and wreckage. It looked bigger than it had, but that might've just been how the fixed walls and proper lighting made it feel. “So,” the man beside me began, “I assume you and your colleagues have discussed the design of the space?”
“We have,” I answered, again glancing at Jake. “Scott doesn't care either way, so long as the kitchen is big enough with new appliances. Jake wanted full control of the bar.” With a smile, I handed him the simple sketches I’d done. “And you know me, I'm the one with the vision.”
“Of course,” he agreed, eyes carefully looking over the pages with a smile. “Your visions never cease to amaze me, little fish.”
Nudging him with my elbow I smiled. “So, you think it's doable?”
“It is fairly simple.” Handing the papers to the lead on the project they exchanged a few words before he patted my hand and looked around the room. “This will be the pride of the city when all is said and done.”
“That's ambitious,” I said with a laugh. “The big apples got a lot of gems.”
Nodding Mr. Hiragana said again, “And this will be one of them.”
With a tilt of my head and a soft smile, I squeezed his hand. “Were you always this optimistic?”
“Only after I met you,” he replied, squeezing my hand back.
“Was I ever this optimistic?” A sad feeling took root in my chest as I looked around at the clean slate. “It feels like so long ago that I had something like this… A dream.”
Mr. Hiragana nodded, his thoughtful eyes never leaving my face as he answered, “You have been through much these years we have been apart. You have changed… Grown not only in body but in mind. The little fish I met at that hotel so many years ago is not the same one that stands before me now. You have known sorrow, fear, loss.” With a proud gleam in his eyes, he nodded more assuredly. “And in spite of it all, you have survived. It is normal to lose one's optimism after such a trying journey. But, one day you will find it again.”
“You've grown wiser in our time apart,” I deduced.
With a deep laugh, he shook his head. “In some ways, I suppose. All that live to be my age have some wisdom to depart onto younger ears.” With a glance at Jake, he smirked. “Though, some of that wisdom is repeated words said by a much wiser voice than mine.”
“How do you mean?”
“Slowly, then all at once.” His words made everything still as Rada's bright smile and tender kiss on my head warmed me. Mr. Hiragana smiled again. “This is what she always said when encouraging you to follow your heart, yes?”
My eyes drifted towards the bar where Jake paced behind the wooden bartop. His eyes darted back and forth, memorizing the space he'd claimed as his and visualizing whatever it was his mind had thought up for it. For a split second, it was like I too could see that bright image he had in his head. A bar with soft lights and glittering bottles, pictures of everyone that mattered littering the wall behind it. A place that felt lavish and expensive without being so snooty and uptight. A place to feel at home.
Then that all vanished as his head turned and those blue eyes pierced mine. The vision faded from his mind, replaced by another… Less focused one. That wicked gleam shined like the sun over water as his tongue darted out to wet his lips and his eyes lazily moved down the length of me. Sinful. That was the only word I knew that properly described him as I broke eye contact with him and cleared my throat.
“Thank you.” I looked back up at him, ignoring the knowing look he gave me in return, and bowed my head. “For helping me find my way.”
He bowed his head in return. “You have always known your way, Little Fish. I have simply reminded you of it.”
I glanced at the time and bowed again. “We should be going.”
“I look forward to our next meeting.” He squeezed my hand one last time. “They would be proud of you.”
After leaving the crew behind to work on the building Jake and I headed to work. We made small talk about the progress of the restaurant, a subject Jake was still clearly uncomfortable with. “Mr. Hiragana says we'll probably be able to open before next years up.”
Jake stiffly nodded, eyes still staring straight ahead. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” I answered, watching him carefully. “So, how are you feeling about the whole thing?”
“Fine.”
I reached out and stopped him mid-step, my hand carefully laying on his arm and encouraging him to look at me. “Jake.”
He shook his head and sighed, “I feel fine. Excited… But… It's… It's just a lot and it's complicated.”
“Anything I can do to help?” I asked with a tender tilt of my head.
“No, I don't think so.”
I shrugged. “Well, I give you full permission to be an asshole about restaurant shit while you figure it out. That help?”
Jake chuckled, visibly pleased with the idea of an asshole pass. “Maybe a little.”
“Good,” I beamed back as the heavy cloud of tension dissipated and the rest of our walk felt normal again. It wasn't until we entered 22West that the weight of everything came crashing down over me all over again.
A new painting hung on the wall, not one nearly as painful to look at, but another all the same. The light blues of the waves gradually faded into black as the painting shifted focus from the boat - my mother's boat - to the nothingness that lurked beneath the water. My heart dropped into my stomach, twisting and tightening until it was nothing more than a ball of iron filling my stomach with dread.
*
The clinking of silverware felt louder that family meal than any other, at least it did to Jake. He sat next to Lena, whose eyes hadn't left the painting since they'd arrived. It was a simple image of a boat and the ocean depths, but he knew what it really meant to her… Some of it anyway. As his eyes passed between the painting and Lena's emotionless face, Jake wanted nothing more than to ask the question that hung on the tip of his tongue.
Why does this make you feel so afraid?
His best and only guess was that it had something to do with Anthony… Something to do with the three years that Lena tried her damnedest to never focus on. But, in that curious, protective way of his, Jake wanted to know more. He wanted to understand the situation fully so he could at least make an attempt to lessen the impact of it.
They had been the only two that hadn't already gotten dressed in those hideous shirts, having been late to oversee things at the new restaurant space, and as they changed in the quiet of an empty locker room Jake felt relieved no one else was here. The apprehensive, almost avoidant air around Lena never once lifted as he turned to look at her. “You okay?”
She didn't even glance at him when she answered, “It's just… A lot…”
He found it ironic that her words – her feelings mirrored his so perfectly. Any other time it would have made him chuckle, but right now all he wanted was to make her feel better. The panic in her voice as she screamed at him to get out the other day had made him feel physically sick. Seeing her using pain to somehow try to ignore the memories made him feel even worse. Jake wanted - needed - to help her.
“So take it out on me,” Jake suggested, her words from their walk circling around in his head as he closed his locker.
“What?”
“All that shit you're holding onto, take some of it out on me.”
“I'm not gonna do that.”
“Why not?” He asked with a hopeful smirk. “Like me too much?”
“Less and less each minute,” she weakly joked.
“Let's play a game,” he offered. “We go back in time tonight to before we became friends. I'll be my charming self and you can be a bitch.”
“Jake…”
Pushing himself off his locker he chuckled. “Oh come on, princess. Have some fun. Play a game with me.”
Shaking her head Lena finally nodded. “Alright, fine, I'll play.”
Jake smirked down at her. “See ya downstairs, Lana.”
“See ya, jerk.”
Tonight was gonna be fun.
*
“Behind,” Jake deadpanned for the third time tonight, the mischievous glow in his eyes the only thing giving away his true emotions. “Watch where you're standing, Lana.”
He’d been purposefully waiting until I’d stepped up behind him to turn directly into me and pretend to be annoyed. Part of his “game”. I'd been skeptical of his plan and it’d taken me a minute to adjust to the amped-up brand of his usual asshole behaviors, but once I did I actually found the whole thing… Fun… “Watch where you're walking, jerk.”
Jake slid out of the kitchen with nothing more than a smile. Everyone around us looked confused, but shocking none of them said a word. Isaac and Scott gave me the occasional questioning look, likely expecting me to explain it later. I didn't care about any of that though. I didn't care about the new painting or the past it dug up. I didn't care about Tony's obvious involvement. All I cared about was thinking up a new snarky comment to hit Jake with the next time I saw him.
I continued to switch between line and dish before moving to help restock the bar. Jake saw me the second I left the kitchen with the two bottles in my hand and slid to stand in the middle of the bar space, shaking his cocktail. “Sorry, I need the room.”
“Idiot,” I mumbled under my breath, just loud enough for him to hear me as I pressed my chest up against his back to slide past him. “Good thing for you I don't mind getting up close and personal.”
“Lucky me,” he replied, pursing his lips as he watched me bend over to grab the now-empty rack for the glasses.
He slid the drink to the guest who had ordered it and quickly turned, putting his body directly behind mine so I'd run into him when I stood up. I played into his hand and with an exaggerated eye roll I mimicked his words, “Behind.”
“Sorry,” he taunted. “I was just admiring the view.”
“I'm just surprised you have the time to admire anyone else's ass when you're so obviously in love with your own.”
Chuckling he let me pass. “I assure you, an ass like yours puts mine to shame, princess.”
“How flattering,” I deadpanned. “Save some of that charm for the people dumb enough to pay you, pretty boy.”
The night dragged on, but I hardly noticed how long it really was. Once the guests had vacated the dining room everyone drank themselves into a better mood. Nicky left early, leaving Jake and me to close the bar down. Next to me, Jake finished counting his tips with a click of his tongue, “Only four hundred tonight.”
“Well,” I sarcastically remarked, putting a bottle back in place. “Looks like tonight's gonna be a big fat bust. If only there was a way you could salvage your wounded ego.”
“Wanna know what I think?” He asked, ignoring my taunt as he side-eyed me. He poured Heather's drink into a to-go cup with a thoughtful grin.
“Desperately,” I answered in that slightly mocking tone he was known for.
Jake slid the cup to her and watched the group start to leave. “I think I should snag us some food from the kitchen while you grab a bottle from the wine cellar,” he turned and looked me up and down, reminiscent of how he had in the beginning. “Then we meet at my place in a half hour.”
The look in his eyes told me exactly what his words didn't, but I still wanted to hear him say it. With a coy smile and a tiny step too close, I asked in a light, teasing tone, “Like a date?”
“If that's what you wanna call it,” he replied just as teasing, but both of us could pick out the genuine nature in each other's words.
My heart did a flip inside. For the first time since the painting had arrived 22West felt like it should. It felt like just another space, one I didn't feel paranoid or anxious in. Jake was there, standing in front of me, inviting me to spend the night with him… Inviting me to forget about anything and everything else. Mr. Hiragana’s words - Rada’s words - echoed in my mind. “Slowly, then all at once.”
“It’s a date then,” I answered, a sudden hopefulness, or maybe blind courage, refusing to let old fears rob me of this - of anything else with Jake.
That cocky grin of his made me roll my eyes as he kept up the persona of that asshole-ish self we’d be toying around with all through service. “See you there, Princess.”
“Don’t get too cocky, pretty boy, or I’ll stand you up.”
Jake chuckled and shook his head. “No, you won’t.”
God this shouldn’t be so fun. “Won’t I?”
He bent his head down, crowding my space and letting his eyes shamelessly roam down to my cleavage. “You want this too bad to stand me up.”
I replied through the feeling of heat rising up my neck. “You seem confident about that.”
“I am confident,” he answered, tugging his lower lip between his teeth for a moment. “That’s the point of this game, isn’t it? We pretend to be the assholes we were to each other when we first met so we can finally just say what we really mean?”
Though I hadn’t seen the game that way before, it clicked the second Jake had said it. Everything that had happened the past few days… Thanksgiving, the bar, tonight, one thing after another after another after another all getting in the way of what I, we, wanted and dreaded more than anything. The conversation. The admittance. The game had given me - given us both - the courage to just come out with it, to commit once and for all to an action. A date. “You’re right.”
Jake smirked even wider, cocky and dickish as he leaned in closer, tilting his head ever so slightly in that smart-ass kind of way. “Am I?”
“Don’t ruin it.” I carefully pushed against his chest and took a step back. “Now, excuse me. I have an expensive bottle to steal.”
“That’s my girl,” he muttered, just low enough that I couldn’t be totally sure he’d even said it. He watched me turn and walk away, the burning feeling of his eyes on me only making my heart beat faster in my chest.
Down in the chilled wine cellar, I stood, staring at the shelves, as my mind caught up with my body. A date. Holy shit. This is a date. I glanced down at my plain attire and shook my head. “Nope.” Digging my phone out of my pocket I moved forward, scanning the bottles on the shelves as the line rang.
“Hello?” Quinn sang into the phone.
“Where are you?”
“Wow, not even a hi, how’s it going?”
“Quinn, no time!” I replied, hurriedly. “I need an outfit.”
She made a curious noise over the phone. “What for?”
“I…” A stupid gin made my cheeks burn as I answered, “I have a date.”
“Are you two finally calling your one on one time, a date?” Quinn inquired with a light teasing tone. “How bold of you.”
“Shut up, do you have something I can wear or not?”
With a sigh, I could hear her as she started flipping through her rack of clothes. “If you want my professional opinion, showing up in nothing at all would be your best option.”
Rolling my eyes I finally found the bottle I'd been searching for. “Quinn…”
“Fiiinnee, I've got a few options. See you in ten?”
“Sounds good, thank you!”
“Det-”
“Details as payment, I know Q.”
Bottle in hand I hurried up the stairs, saying goodnight to the dish crew as they finished changing and headed out into the chilled air. My steps felt both lighter and heavier as I walked beneath the neon lights and moved around the slow crowds. I tried not to focus on what this meant… On the obvious expectation that both Jake and I had at this point, but that was practically impossible.
We'd already done everything else, a fact everyone was keen on reminding us. We'd kissed and touched and whispered heated words. Jake and I were far past any normal friendship. We had been for a while. Yet, there we were using games to commit to an actual date. There we were coming up with some kind of excuse to meet at his apartment where things were bound to go a very specific way.
Are we even going to get to open this bottle? I wondered, nails picking at the fancy label. Or is he going to just kiss me the second I walk in? The vivid and tantalizing image of him pulling me into his apartment and pressing me into his front door filled my brain. Am I going to be able to not kiss him first? Another valid question.
Quinn's apartment wasn't far from Ozzy's or the club. She lived a few blocks up the way in a modest one-bedroom place she'd busted her ass to afford back in the day. The old, sun-faded brick shifted to peeling wallpaper as I made my way inside and up the creaking staircase to the third floor. The second door down the hallway, the only door not decorated with scuff marks from people's shoes.
Ari was waiting to open the door with a wide smirk. “TIGER!” She purred, pulling me inside the dimly lit warm space and pressing a kiss to my cheek. “I heard you have a daaaaattteeee.”
Quinn's apartment was always in some state of chaos. Shoes were tossed around, blankets hung off of every soft surface and her makeup and hair supplies were scattered around her place like hidden gems. She liked it this way, liked the way it made things feel crowded and lived in. Having grown up with nothing Quinn collected things and held them close like a slutty magpie.
The warm lights from her lamps lit up the living space, where it appeared I'd interrupted a dinner date. Quinn emerged from her bedroom to the left and helped peel Ari off me with a loving look and teasing in her eyes. “It's not a big deal remember?”
“Oh yeah,” Ari giggled. “Just two friends hanging out late into the night.”
“You two are the worst,” I grumbled, setting the bottle down on Quinn's counter. “So, any good choices?”
With an offended look, Quinn waved me into her bedroom. “As if you need to ask.”
Ari looked at the bottle with wide eyes and a huge grin. “Thief!” She gasped. “I love you!”
“Don't open it,” I called out to her. “If there's any left tomorrow I'll bring it up to you guys.”
Quinn's eyes widened and she practically vibrated as she hopped onto her bed among the outfits she'd pulled from her closet. “Is this gonna be an overnight date?”
“Maybe,” I answered, trying not to let my excitement or my terror change my voice.
“Oh my god, are you gonna let him take your V card?”
I nudged her leg, almost sending her off the bed. “My V card's been gone for a while Q.”
She shook her head. “It's been over a year since that cards gotten punched in. It counts.”
“Outfits,” I sighed, changing the subject.
“Well now that I know it's a slumber party,” she rummaged through her pile of clothes and pulled out a little black dress. “This is what you're wearing.”
“I don't get to try anything else on?”
“Nope!”
With a groan, I grabbed the dress from out of her hands and stomped out of her room towards the bathroom. “Why did I even ask for your help?”
“Because I'm the best!” Was her loudly overjoyed reply.
Once I'd closed myself into the small bathroom with old checkered floor tiling and the tiny pink sink I looked at the dress she'd chosen. It wasn't ugly or too gaudy. It was simple, black silk with a modest hem of lace around the top and bottom. The spaghetti straps were thin, but I was just thankful there were straps at all… Or a dress at all for that matter.
I took my time sliding it on, stuffing my bra and other clothes under the sink until I could come back and get them. In Quinn's mirror, I fluffed my hair and fixed my makeup, trying to focus on the excited feeling in my chest instead of the anxious ball in my stomach. This isn't a big deal. It's just Jake.
Just Jake… As if that had ever been true.
Unveiling the dress to Quinn and Ari resulted in the two catcalling me for five minutes. “God damn!”
“It's about time you let those girls out to play again!” Ari laughed, looking at my boobs. “No bra too? Jakey's a lucky boy tonight!”
“I'm leaving my clothes under your sink,” I told Quinn as I gathered my things and grabbed the bottle off the counter. “Thanks for the dress!”
“No problem! Have fun being a slut tonight!”
Flipping her off I left the apartment, trying to calm my nerves with each step forward. It wasn't a big deal. It was just Jake. This was just a date.
*
Jake had spent a solid ten minutes meticulously opening and cleaning each of the oysters he'd grabbed from the kitchen. He'd found a niceish plate to put them on and shooed his cat off the counter. Then he'd started truly freaking out.
Lena was on her way with whatever bottle she'd grabbed. They'd drink, eat, and then the inevitable would happen. They’d share a look. He'd touch her or she'd touch him and from there they'd be unable to stop themselves from checking off their list of rainchecks all in one go.
He turned on a movie, the first movie his hands could find, and he cleaned. It wasn't really an effective way to keep his mind off the possibilities that were at this point all but certainties, but he still did it. Maybe it was, to keep his hands busy or maybe he just felt self-conscious about Lena returning to his space.
By the time she knocked on his door, everything was clean and ready. Everything except for him. Do we continue our game? He asked himself, hand hovering over the doorknob. Would that make things easier or would that just make me seem like an asshole?
Opening the door he came face to face with her fluffy red hair and tempting lips and… Fucking hell. The little black dress she wore hugged her body in all the right places, showing off her lean shoulders and peaked nipples. He hadn't expected her to change. Lena smiled, that nervous smile that made the corners of her lips twitch and held up the bottle. “I hope you like champagne.”
Say something. Anything. And say something he did. “You're late.”
Asshole it is I guess.
Thankfully Lena just rolled her eyes and leaned against his doorframe. “Aw, did I keep you waiting?”
“A little,” he said, clearing his throat as he moved to let her in. “It’s been a damn chore keeping this cat off the oysters.”
As if Jake had bribed him to, Hemingway made a not-so-sneaky break for the plate on the counter. Jake jumped, intercepting him just in time. The cat hissed and angrily swatted Jake's arms as he carried him to the sofa. From his kitchen, Lena laughed. “I'm sorry. If I'd have known you were in a heated standoff with the cat I would have hurried.”
He shrugged his shoulders, casually making his way back to the kitchen. “So, champagne?”
“One of the more expensive bottles of it,” she promised, handing the bottle to him for inspection.
Jake barely looked at it, focusing more on her. She looked nervous, but the good kind. The kind that told him she was comfortable being here on this date with him. That was all he could ask for - all he wanted. He'd only take the night as far as she was comfortable with, but judging by the look in her eyes Jake was confident she wanted things to go the same way he did.
So, he grabbed a pair of his shitty glasses from the cupboard and started to open the bottle. She arched her brow. “Not even gonna look at it?”
“I trust your taste in drinks.”
“Even after I gave you nothing but shitty ones that one night?”
Jake chuckled, popping the cork and nodding at her. “Even after that.” He poured her a glass and slid the plate of oysters between them. “So, how’s Quinn?”
Lena blushed, glancing down at her dress. “Was it that obvious?”
“Mhm,” he replied. “I've seen Quinn dress you up enough times to recognize her work.”
“Well, what do you think?” She asked, taking a step back and raising her arms to give him a full view of her.
What did he think? As if she didn't already know every single thought ran through his head. Jake could have voiced any of the lewd things - god knew he'd done that thousands of times before - but instead he found himself answering more sincerely, “I think you look perfect.”
*
My question had been simple, given how well I knew Jake and how his dirty mind worked. It was simple. Ask an obvious question about the very sultry dress Quinn had given me and received an equally obvious dirty response. Simple. Casual. And not at all what Jake said.
“I think you look perfect.”
Perfect. That wasn't a word I was used to hearing, especially when it came to me. Yet this would mark - at least - the second time Jake had used it. Butterflies filled my stomach, filling me with that fuzzy feeling of warm tingles. If it had been anyone else using that word I would have known exactly how to respond. Bullshit. But, I knew he meant it. The look in his eyes, the hint of a real smile, the way he looked just as surprised as I did.
Jake thought I looked perfect.
“So, how do you like your new TV?” I asked turning my now blushing face away from him to look at the bright screen where Egon and the rest of the Ghostbusters were quietly playing out their scenes. My face burned even hotter as I remembered Halloween… Remembered how good Jake had looked dressed as Egon. Maybe he still has that costume? “Ghostbusters?”
“It's a good movie,” he defended, but the wicked gleam in his eye told me he was thinking the same as me.
Smirking, I shrugged. “Woulda thought you'd turn on Romeo and Juliet.”
With a smirk, Jake nodded, “Also a good movie.”
I used the heated tension humming between us as an opportunity to take the first oyster. The salty taste washed over my tongue as I examined the slightly shiny shell in my hand. “So, what's your plan, pretty boy?”
“Am I supposed to have a plan?” He asked with a chuckle.
“I mean I'd think so, after your very confident invitation at work.”
Jake shrugged, taking a moment to enjoy an oyster. “Honestly, I just wanted to be around you.”
“You couldn't be around me at Ozzy's?”
“Okay… I wanted to be around you alone. That better?”
I hummed, beaming at his admission. “Yep.”
He rolled his eyes, casually pushing the plate out of Hemingway's reach. “Don't sound so smug, princess. You were dying to come be alone with me.”
“Hardly!” I argued - lied.
Jake stepped around the counter, placing his body flush up against my own and giving me that look. “Hardly? So you don't want me to do this?”
His fingers skimmed up my exposed thigh, dragging the lace hem of the dress up. I gulped, my eyes shifting to his lips without a second thought. “I want you to do whatever you wanna do.”
“Oh, come on, princess. You can do better than that.”
Fuck it. “I… want you… To kiss me.”
He lifted his hand, fingers grazing the side of my neck as he carefully tilted my head up even more. Our lips brushed against each other, a sigh of anticipation hot on our mingled breaths, and then… Darkness.
The lights cut out, casting Jake and me in complete darkness. Outside horns honked and the chaos told us both that the block - hell maybe even the city, had just shared our experience. Jake’s hands drifted to my shoulders, holding onto me for a moment as he adjusted to the dark. “Of fucking course.”
I swallowed my disappointment and forced a chuckle out of my dry throat. “Don’t suppose you've got any candles on hand?”
“I think I have a few,” he answered. “Let me get a lighter or something.”
Jake stumbled around in the dark until he reached his jacket, pulling the cigarettes and lighter out. The flame did little to light the room, but after a minute of searching his bare cupboards, he found what little he had in candles. I could see the tension in his shoulders almost as clearly as the sour purse of his lips. “Hopefully it's not the whole city.”
“Yeah.” He answered through clenched teeth as handed me the lighter. “I'm gonna go see if anyone outside knows what's going on.”
“Okay,” I replied, watching him go. “I'll light these I guess.”
I stared into the flame as I held the lighter to the wick of the candle and let out a defeated sigh. It's always something. Betting lesbians, a money-hungry Russian, the past, the future… Maybe it was a sign. Maybe the universe in its infinite wisdom was trying to tell us we weren't good together.
The wax dripped over the edge of the candle as I held the light to it. “Bullshit.”
Fuck the universe, I decided. Fuck the past or the future. Fuck everything that tries to tell me what I want.
I wanted Jake. Physically, romantically, in any and every way that he would have me. I wanted him. And tonight was going to be the night whether the city or the universe liked it or not.
I carefully lit the remaining candles, illuminating his apartment just enough to see the outline of his furniture. As I set the last down on the counter I leaned over to give Hemingway a reassuring pat, all the while trying to hold onto the newfound courage making my stomach twist into knots. “It's alright.”
The cat seemed to release some of his tension, using my distracted state to snag an oyster and take shelter in the bathroom where he decided to hide in Jake's open laundry bin. As I quietly chuckled at the way the tips of his ears poked out of the top, and the ferocious noises he made dining on his stolen meal, the apartment door opened and slammed shut as Jake returned. With a silent curse, he threw his jacket and shoes off to the side. “Well, nobody knows shit, but everyone's expecting the power to be out for the rest of the night at least.”
“Damn,” I remarked, trying not to talk myself out of taking action. “Right when your plan was just starting to work.”
It was a flirtatious little taunt, wholeheartedly meant to shift Jake’s focus from the unexpected interruption and back to the fact that we'd been on the verge of a kiss when the lights went out. Sadly, that didn't happen. Instead, Jake continued to grumble, scouring his shelf for a pack of cigarettes and then his lighter, which I still held. “Damn, where the fuck did it go?”
I watched him search for a minute before holding up the object he sought with a smug smirk. “Looking for this?”
He turned to look at me, face set in a grumpy scowl as he lifted the candle off the coffee table and held the flame to the end of his cigarette, lighting it. “Nope.”
“Suit yourself,” I replied, bothered as I set the lighter down on the counter. “Now what?”
Flopping down on his couch Jake laughed humorlessly. “I don't have any board games we can play if that's what you're hoping for.”
“I’m sure we can think of something more interesting to do than play a board game.” Hint. Hint.
Jake rolled his eyes gesturing to the darkened apartment. “You're welcome to look around for something to do.”
DO ME! I wanted to shout at him. My eyes scanned the shelves, looking for something that could lighten Jake's pissy mood and somehow salvage the night. “Where's your camera?” I asked. “We could take some more pictures.”
“In case you didn't notice, we don't exactly have the best lighting for that,” he snarkily replied.
“So you wanna just sit in the dark and do nothing?”
“I'm doing something,” he answered, lifting up his cigarette.
“Well, maybe I wanna do more than sit and smoke.” Jake ignored my statement, staring at the wall in front of him with a bitter, disappointed look on his face. “Really? You gonna ignore me now?”
He glanced at me and shrugged. “You're more than welcome to find something to do.”
Idiot. After a moment of watching the angry puffs of smoke exhale from his lungs I pushed myself away from the counter and flopped down on the couch beside him with a frustrated sigh. Jake's eyes lowered to watch my boobs bounce with the movement. Of course, that'd be what cheers him up. “You know most people would be more concerned with entertaining their guests.”
It was like a light finally flicked on in his brain and with a suggestive raise of his brows and a not at all subtle smirk, Jake and I were back on the same page. Only now I felt like making him work for it.
"Oh, you want some attention?" He took another long drag of the cigarette, slowly sliding closer to me, closing the space between us. He was right there, just a head tilt away from my lips. He timed his head down, seeking me out, expecting me to make it easy.
“You're insufferable." I leaned back, crossing my arms - pressing my breasts up to really catch his attention. He breathed smoke out across my face with a light laugh and a smirk.
"You like it," he whispered, our noses bumping one another.
"This isn't something friends usually do," I said quietly, smugly. Resuming the game we had earlier, the game meant to make this easier, and now the game that I'd use to torture him.
Jake was more smug as he grinned back at me, his eyes dark with lust and sin that would put even the devil to shame. "Yeah, well, I don't want to be your fucking friend." For a split second that something real flashed in his eyes, a fleeting feeling or thought he didn't dare let himself hold onto for too long.
I sighed, that same wave of reality washing over me, forcing my heart to beat quicker and my mind to race with doubt. Moving my head back a little more I whispered the thought, the fear that had kept us from committing to this all along, "This is a bad idea."
He nodded, not in agreement, but in acknowledgment that this was the very fear he shared. Adam's apple bobbing, Jake's eyes dropped to my lips as he sighed, "One of my worst."
I wasn't prepared for the kiss, or the way his hand wound into my hair to pull me closer. Though, I should have been. Jake tasted like oysters and champagne, smoke and, and want. He pulled me effortlessly into his lap, coaxing my mouth open and tangling his tongue with mine to effectively silence that pesky thought in both our minds. He was addictive and he knew it. Smug bastard, he was.
Of all the times we'd kissed, this one felt the most like our first. Maybe it was because of the way he'd been acting like he had in the beginning, asshole-ish and reserved. Or maybe it was because we both knew this was it. There was no forgotten thing, no drunk Russian or nosey lesbians. It was just us.
This was it.
I pulled back slightly, my hand smoothing over his jaw as we both dropped the act and slowly started to abandon our fear in favor of that intimate thing that hummed between us. Still, I couldn't resist the taunt that slid off my tongue, "So, you don't want to be my friend anymore?"
Jake scoffed, pressing another kiss to my lips. "Stop talking."
"I thought you liked being my friend," I continued to tease, threading my fingers into his hair as his mouth moved down the column of my neck. I had to hold in a moan as his teeth tugged at the skin there.
"I like this better," he breathed out, smirking against my skin. His hands gripped my thighs and pulled me down further, rubbing our hips together in a way that sent pleasure up my spine. This time I couldn't contain the wanton moan. Jake chuckled. "Much better."
With a breathless huff, I pulled his hair until his head tilted back up to me. "Shut up."
“Oh,” he whispered breathlessly, lips pulling up into that cocky smirk of his. “Now you wanna stop talking?”
Before I could answer Jake had shifted, rolling me onto the couch beneath him. The new cushions were slow to yield to the weight of us, stiff but not uncomfortable. Above me, Jake's chain necklace dangled, glinting in the low moonlight as it kissed my lips just like he'd done seconds ago. He smirked down at me for a second before all the attitude and the teasing faded, leaving him just smiling down at me as he lifted a hand to my face.
His fingers traced my lips, gliding along my jaw. The swell of warmth… Of want made my chest constrict almost to the point of pain. Out of all the nights we’d spent together - out of all the things we'd already done - this moment was unlike all of them. I wanted him more than I could even understand and in some way… Through some invisible bond between us, I knew he felt the same.
I lifted my head off the cushion and chased his lips. “I wanna stop talking now.”
Jake's still smokey breath fanned across my face as he chuckled. “Okay, Princess. No more talking.”
Our mouths met again, eager and hungry. It was like the feeling of his velvety lips on me, of his hands stroking and squeezing, erasing every thought in my brain. Everything that wasn't him just suddenly didn't matter. Jake dragged his tongue down my neck, fingers tugging the straps of the dress off my shoulders so his lips and teeth could literally my collarbones with kisses and bite marks.
To my surprise he kept moving down lower and lower until his hands were tucked up my dress, pulling my panties off my legs. Jake bit into the meat of my thigh, dragging me down the couch until my ass was literally in his hands. I lifted my head just in time to catch a glimpse of his dark head of hair vanishing beneath my dress as he dove mouth-first into my pussy.
“Oh my god!” I squeezed in shock as his warm tongue lather over my clit. “Jake!”
His fingers squeezing my thighs and holding them open was the only answer I received as his tongue continued its skilled work. With my head pressed firmly to the cushions, I gripped onto his hair, lifting my hips in time with his tongue movements and chasing the pleasure he so shamelessly offered. “Yes! Oh, Jake, right there!”
His teeth grazed my clit, sending me spasming as I came. That didn't stop him though. Jake's tongue just kept licking and sucking, drinking up every ounce that I had to offer until I was practically vibrating beneath him. I pulled his hair harder, pushing him off me and quickly standing up. Before he could ask what I was doing I tugged at his shirt. “Take this off.”
The wicked grin he answered with glowed in the candlelight. “Not gonna say please?”
Reaching down I tugged on his chain, taunting him with an almost kiss. “Now.”
Humming Jake rose from his knees and lifted the shirt over his head, spreading his arms and lightly flexing. “Happy now?”
I raked my nails over his abdomen, instantly undoing his belt as Jake's hands started sliding my arms through the straps of my dress. “I'll be much happier when we're both naked.”
“That makes two of us,” he agreed with a groan as the dress slid off my body with no resistance. Jake's mouth fell open as he lifted his lands to tease my nipples. “God you're perfect.”
My fingers fumbled, head nearly falling back as the pleasure his touch brought spiked through me. “Jake.”
His body pressed closer to mine, forcing me to step back until the backs of my legs hit his bed. “Are you sur-”
I silenced him with a finger over the lips and a gentle reminder, “No more talking.”
Without any more chances to let my fear win out, I finished with his belt and zipper. Kissing down his chest I slowly sank to my knees, taking his pants and underwear with me until his hard, pulsing cock was dangling in front of me. Jake watched me press a few light kisses to the head of him as he carefully lifted his feet out of his jeans. His breaths stuttered as I licked him base to tip, swirling my tongue around him the way I knew he liked from the first time.
“Fuck,” he breathed, quickly taking hold of my face. “As much as I fucking love that mouth of yours princess… I wanna actually fuck you tonight.”
I grinned, kissing his cock again. “Later then?”
“Absolutely.”
Standing in front of him, I set my hands on his broad shoulders, leaning up to kiss him again. Jake's hands wound into my hair as he turned us, pulling me on top of him as he settled on his back. I shifted my hips and angled his cock perfectly allowing me to finally, slowly begin to sink down on top of him. Jake's eyes fluttered shut, his mouth falling open as a surprised, pleasured sound fell from between his lips. His hands scrambled over my waist, squeezing my flesh. “Fuck.”
The stretch wasn't painful, not after the care Jake had taken, but I found myself shaking. It felt so good. Finally having him inside me, the impressive dick his ego permitted me from ever complimenting, hit all the right spots. It'd been a year since I'd had sex, but already, I found myself questioning if anyone else had ever made me feel like this with nothing more than one tiny thrust.
Once I was fully seated on top of him I found my eyes closing, head tilting back as I enjoyed the simple feeling of him twitching inside me, breathing beneath me, holding me. “Holy shit.”
“You're not wasting any time,” he said, holding onto me like his life depended on it. “Got somewhere to be?”
“You said you wanted to fuck me,” I replied, ignoring his teasing to lift my hips and bending over him. “So fuck me.”
Jake kissed me hard, setting one hand on the small of my back and using it to push me back down onto his dick. My sharp gasp broke our kiss and spurred my body into moving. Every thrust sent pure pleasure radiating through my body. Every noise Jake made was echoed by the ones I made. It was that word he'd kept saying. Perfect.
When my legs started to shake and my body felt heavier to lift in the fervorous up and down movements, Jake sat up. His tongue lathered over a nipple, earning another sharp sound from my throat, as his fingers traced up my spine and gently closed around the back of my neck. I could feel his lips curl up into a smirk as he pulled my nipple between his teeth. “Come on, princess. Don't stop.”
“Fuck,” I whispered, the desperate sound of his voice emptying my brain even more. “I… Oh god…”
“Don't tell me you're tired already,” he taunted, using his hands on my hip and neck to help lift and pull me. “We just got started.”
Grinding my teeth together to hold in the moan I bit back, “I should have guessed you'd be a pillow princess.”
Jake laughed, tilting his head up to kiss me again. “We can switch if you want.”
“Fuck you,” I answered breathlessly, my eyes punching together as the pleasure all began to build up inside me.
“That's what you're doing… Trying to at least.” He withdrew all attempts at helping me, returning his attention to my breasts.
“Jake,” I whined after what felt like hours. God, I'm out of Practice. Jake only hummed in reply to his name. “Please.”
More smug than ever he finally slid his hands to my waist and expertly flipped me onto my back. His sheets felt cold against my hot skin, but I hardly had a moment to focus on that when Jake wasted no time lifting one of my legs onto his shoulder and securing the other around his waist. “Try not to scream my name too loud, the neighbors tend to get mad about that.”
“You-” He thrust into me, the angle and the power behind it making sparks shoot up my stomach into my chest. “Oh fuck!”
“There you go,” he mumbled, fingers curling into the sheets by my head. “Let me hear those pretty noises.”
As he picked up the pace I realized I couldn't have denied his request even if I wanted to. Every noise I made echoed off the brick walls, every wet noise that his thrusts made only filled me with more fire. My fingers dug into his arms and clawed at his back as that coil in my gut wound tighter and tighter. “Jake,” I begged. “Don't stop!”
“Come on, princess,” he urged, pressing his lips to mine in a sloppy kiss. “I wanna feel you.”
“Ah!” I could feel myself tighten around him, drawing out another moan from Jake's lips.
“Fuck!” He cursed under his breath. “That's my girl. Come on… Come for me, Lena.”
That, the fucked out, desperate, adoring uttering of my name was what made the coil in my gut burst. Fingers digging into Jake's hair, pulling his lips down against mine I came around him, shaking as he thrust again and again and again, fucking me through the orgasm and into another as he came with me. His body tensed and shivered as he kissed me through his orgasm, pulling away to let out a shaky breath before he collapsed on top of me.
My chest heaved beneath him as I stretched my fingers and carefully pulled them from his hair. “Holy… Shit…”
Jake carefully rolled off me, throwing the condom away and collapsing next to me. “We should have been doing that this whole time.”
“Definitely,” I agreed, twisting my head to look at him… Afraid of what I'd find in his eyes when I did. Had this been a mistake?
Jake was smiling, genuinely smiling at me. His eyes were light and sparkling as he pulled me into his arms and threw his blanket over us both. His lips kissed my shoulders and my jaw and even though we’d just spent the last hour or more fucking I felt that swell of want again. “You know, we could be in the dark for a while.”
“All night even,” he agreed. “You should definitely stay the night.”
“Absolutely,” I agreed, kissing his lips. “And are you gonna… Entertain me?”
Nodding Jake traced the snake on my spine. “Of course. What kinda man would I be if I left you unsatisfied?”
It was going to be a long night. Long and sweaty and perfect.
*
Dom looked at the now entirely empty shop with a dead stare. His life's work was fucking gone, and it was all his fault. Desperate anger and a bitter, frustrated sorrow filled his lungs with a scream. He threw empty tool carts across the shop floor and kicked the side of the nearest car. Dom exploded, lashing out until he had to stop.
His back slammed into one of the cars, and he bowed low. Defeated. The sound of her light footsteps treading through his mess gave him some tiny hint of hope. He watched her carefully slide into place beside him, looking out at the empty space. "Sorry."
"Stop." He shook his head, glaring at her. "I hate it when you apologize when you did nothin’ wrong."
Sarah giggled, bumping her shoulder into his. "Sorry."
"You're the worst."
She looked around with an exasperated sigh. "They really did a number on the place, huh?"
Nodding, he slapped the side of the car they leaned on. "Fuckers even took the damn hub caps."
"You are gonna take care of this, right, D?" Her emerald eyes sparkled up at him, hopeful and innocent. His baby sister. "I don't wanna lose you like Eddie."
His jaw clenched at the mention of the name. "Yeah, I'll take care of it."
She held out her pinky with tears in her eyes. "You promise?"
Dom wrapped his finger around hers and sighed, engulfing her in a big hug. "Yeah, I promise."
When he opened his eyes, Dom could still feel the warmth of Sarah's embrace. His mind clung to the sweet moments they'd shared until the end - until the pain made him feel like he couldn't breathe. That sensation forced him upright, scrambling to grab hold of the drugs he'd left at his bedside. He wanted to forget. More than anything, he wanted the pain to stop.
Green eyes flashed in his mind. Hers and Lena's. He'd made them both a promise… A stupid fucking pinky swear. His fist tightened around the drugs as he forced himself to throw them across the room. "God dammit!"
"Well, ain't you just pathetic?”
Dom's head twisted to the door where Eddie lounged against the old frame. “The fuck are you doin here?”
Eddie shrugged, a heavy sigh following him as he sat in the cot opposite his. “It's her birthday today… Figured that's the kinda thing that warrants a temporary truce. We're family after all.”
“You're no family of mine,” he ground out.
Dom could see the hurt in Eddie's eyes, but as always he erased it with that goddamn smirk. “Feelings mutual, big brother. But, I ain't here for you. I'm here 'cause it's what she woulda wanted.”
“She doesn't get to want anything,” Dom said. “Not anymore.”
Eddie nodded, tensely. “Well, we both seem to have conflicting opinions about whose fault that is.”
“Get the fuck out!” Dom shouted, throwing himself to his feet to grab onto Eddie's jacket and throw him out the door. “You get the fuck out before I fucking kill you!”
“Oh, we both know how much you'd like that,” Eddie spat back, laughing in Dom's face. “Sibling killer that you are.”
It took four of his bikers to hold him back while Eddie waved off his men and left with a bitter curse in Spanish. After the noise of their car had gone, the bikers let him go and Dom was out the door. He needed some air. He needed some space away from this fucking warehouse… This fucking city.
There, illuminated in the golden rays of the rising sun, Mav sat on his bike, resting her head in her hands with a wide - real smile. Dom shook his head, forcing out the angry breath he'd been holding. “It's shit like this that makes everyone think you're a bitch.”
She just shrugged, that smile never faltering. “That a no to taking a joyride?”
“I could never say no to you.”
“It's one of the few things I like about you,” she teased, sitting up as he neared. The flippant, uncaring attitude fell for a moment as she asked, “You okay?”
Dom shook his head and answered with the truth, “No.”
Sliding back on the bike seat she patted the fine leather. “Come on then, big boy. Let's go for a ride.”
“Course, Mrs…. What is it now? Scott?”
Mav rolled her eyes. “As if I'd take that old fucks last name.”
With a chuckle, he smiled at her. “That's my Mav.”
“I'm not your anything,” she argued half-heartedly.
Dom threw his leg over the seat and settled in with her sweet smell and soft hands around his waist. He revved the engine and Mav's arms squeezed him tighter. “You'll always be my Mav.”
“Just drive the damn bike, Dom.”
“Yes, Ma'am.”
#fic: nightshade#sweetbitter jake#jake sweetbitter#sweetbitter#sweetbitter jake x oc#jake x lena#sweetbitter fanfiction#sweetbitter fic#sweetbitter tv series#sweetbitter simone#tom sturridge#jake/oc#jake and lena#jake x oc#jake smut#sweetbitter smut#sweetbitter ocs#sweetbitter sasha#sweetbitter ari#sweetbitter heather#sweetbitter nicky#sweetbitter howard
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AHHHH CONGRATS ON 5K- YOU DESERVE ALL OF THEM AND SO SO MUCH MORE (I’m absolutely obsessed with your account it makes me so happy)
If you’re still taking requests could I have a bbf!Jake one where they’re at a bar again and this time someone really creepy is hitting on baby Bradshaw and even though she’s trying to get away from him, he won’t leave her alone. Cue super Jake to the rescue (and he’s pissed)
I hope this is okay and if not, don’t worry about it :)
THANK YOU SO MUCH AND HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY <333
OOOH I LOVE ME SOME PROTECTIVE JAKE! And thank you sm for your kind words, lovely <3
I'm gonna say this drabble is an extension of Part 4 of BBF but really can probably be read on its own. Here we go!
5k Weekend Bash Drabbles
Brother's Best Friend - N-O Spells No
Jake Seresin x Reader
“C’mon, sweetheart, let me buy you a drink,” says the man with the slicked-back hair and smarmy leer for a third time, taking a seat at your table on the patio.
His friends at a neighboring table guffaw, apparently finding their friend’s persistent approach hilarious. You find it extremely disrespectful. “No, thanks,” you respond, again.
The man’s grin broadens as though your rejection spurs him on. He slides his chair in closer and leans in to whisper something in your ear. But, before he has a chance to speak, you decide that you’ve had enough and rise from your seat. You’d rather forfeit your table than put up with any more of this bullshit.
You start for the door to go into the bar, but the man leaps up to follow you. He catches up with you just as you’re about to enter and takes you by the arm, spinning you around to face him. “You don’t know what you’re missing, honey,” he mutters and his voice makes your skin crawl.
Out of the corner of your eye, you catch a glimpse of Jake as he’s about to place his drink order at the counter. The disturbance near the front door has made him glance in your direction and his expression darkens when he sees you. He immediately steps away from the bar, forgetting all about the drinks he just paid for, and marches determinedly toward the door.
Before you could tell the creep to watch out, Jake is outside, curling his arm around your waist to relocate you so that he could turn back and grab a hold of the man’s shirt, ramming him into the wall, back first. “Who the fuck are you?” he growls at the – now cowering – man.
“I’m a friend, I’m a friend!” the man exclaims in alarm, his hands shooting up to show that he’s not looking for a fight.
You give the man a disgusted scowl when he looks over at you pleadingly, hoping that you’ll corroborate his statement. Jake glances over his shoulder at you too. “This true?” he asks. “You know him?”
You’re silent for a moment, wondering what Jake would do if you told him the truth. You really don’t want him getting banned from the Hard Deck for starting a fight on your behalf.
But Jake takes your lack of a response as a no and pulls on the man’s collar just to slam him back into the wall again. The man, to your great satisfaction, looks like he’s about to cry. “She didn’t tell me she had a boyfriend!” the man cries.
Jake grimaces aggressively. “Did she tell you to fuck off?” he asks dangerously.
The man gulps anxiously. “If she’d just told me she was with somebody” –
“What the fuck does that matter?” Jake shoves the man into the wall for a third time and the latter whimpers pathetically. “No is a full fucking sentence.”
“Okay, Jake, that’s enough,” you say, putting your hand on his arm. “I think he got the idea.”
Jake glances down at you with a heavy sigh and then back at the snivelling man. Then, he lowers his head and mutters in a low, intimidating voice, “You come near her again, I’m not gonna be this nice.”
The man nods vehemently and, the moment Jake lets go of him, he slips away, ditching his friends – who, admittedly, hadn’t even come to his aid – as they scramble to collect their things before following him out.
Jake turns to look at you worriedly. “Are you okay?” he asks, taking a step toward you.
You nod. “Yeah, thanks for coming to my rescue,” you reply. “Although, I totally could’ve taken him.”
Jake draws his lips together to keep from smiling; he’s not ready to find the humor in the situation quite yet. “You shouldn’t have had to,” he remarks.
You shrug and meet his gaze. “I’m glad you were here.”
Jake nods and then takes your shoulder and pulls you into an embrace. “Me too,” he says.
You close your eyes, allowing yourself a moment to enjoy the hug because there isn’t often an excuse to lean in while Jake Seresin just holds you. In fact, you can’t think if a single time in recent history when this type of scenario has taken place. Suddenly, you’re not too mad about the creep that almost ruined your day.
“Where’s my brother?” you ask once the two of you separate.
Jake sighs with a grin and shakes his head. “He took off.”
“What? With that chick he just met?”
Jake nods sheepishly, as though he’s somehow to blame for Bradley’s promiscuity. You grin at him. “Perfect,” you say. “Now, we have plenty of time to talk about the thing.”
Jake cringes and lets out a defeated groan.
5k Celly
#lena’s 5k celly#BBF blurb#jake seresin imagine#hangman imagine#hangman drabble#jake seresin blurb#jake seresin drabble#jake seresin#hangman blurb#hangman#hangman x you#top gun#jake seresin fic#jake seresin x reader#glen powell#tgm fanfiction#top gun hangman#hangman x reader#jake hangman seresin#jake seresin x you
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The thought of the Bigs (probably just Momma Danny, though, let's be real) trying to put the Tinies to bed is sending me
Nobody tell Danny that sometimes his parenting is just Jake standing menacingly behind him
#thank u lena for the jake idea#this danny is sooooo#hehe <3#gvf#greta van fleet#danny wagner#jake kiszka#sam kiszka#josh kiszka#myart#greta van art#tiny van fleet
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Honestly, I think that Haley Long from the American Dragon Jake Long TV series, Janna from the Star VS The Forces Of Evil TV series, Luz Noceda and Amity Blight from The Owl House TV series and Cedric The Sensational from the Sofia The First TV series would interact quite well with one of @boingodigitalart’s dream teams which consists of Webby Vanderquack, Lena Sabrewing and Violet Sabrewing from the DuckTales (2017) TV series and Morgana Macawber from the Darkwing Duck (1991) TV series who all are enthusiastic about magic.
After all, as shown in the episode ‘Switcheroo’, Haley is a shapeshifting dragon who is quite the rule follower and does quite well in school and, as shown in the episode ‘Family Business’, she did pretty good in her dragon training. So, I think that Haley would help Webby, Lena, Violet and Morgana study every written record they could about how magic works and would also get along quite well with Webby in particular considering that Webby also loved learning and also did pretty good in her own training as a fighter as shown in the episode ‘From The Confidential Casefiles Of Agent 22!’, where Webby learned quite well from records about Scrooge McDuck’s adventures and was quite a big help to Scrooge when it came to helping him fight his way through all the obstacles in their path and fending off Black Heron. So, I think that Haley and Webby would like to spar with each other and help improve each other’s fighting skills. And, given that, as shown in the episode ‘The Doppelganger Gang’, the dragons from the American Dragon Jake Long universe have the ability to make copies of themselves as well as, as shown throughout the American Dragon Jake Long TV series, the ability to fly and breath fire, I also think that Webby would like to help Haley use those dragon abilities to the utmost efficiency in a fight. Also, given that, as shown in the episode ‘Escape From The ImpossiBin!’, Webby was able to use German paper cutting to trick Huey and Dewey by making a paper cut out of her silhouette look like her shadow and that, as I pointed out earlier, Haley did pretty well in school, I think that Webby can teach Haley to use skills like German paper cutting to confuse her opponents. And given that, as I pointed out earlier, Haley was quite a rule follower who prefers following school rules and that, as shown in the episode ‘Escape To/From Atlantas!’ Webby was also, at least usually, quite a rule follower who wasn’t quite used to going against her grandma Beakley’s wishes, I think that’s another reason Haley and Webby would get along quite well since they both usually prefer following the rules.
As shown in the episode ‘Bon Bon The Birthday Clown’, Janna is quite an enthusiast when it comes to the concept of magic. So, I think that Janna would really like to learn a thing or 2 from Morgana since, as shown in the episode ‘Fungus Amongus’, Morgana is a skilled sorceress. Also, given that, as shown in the episode ‘Rest In Pudding’, Janna also seems to have a collection of magic-related trinkets, I think that she would really want to see any real magical artifacts that Webby, Lena, Violet and Morgana find. As a side note, I think that Webby, Lena, Violet and Morgana would be quite fascinated if they were to see that when the version of Janna from the Janna VS The Forces Of Darkness fanfic had Marco Diaz use a book scanner on the Butterfly family’s Magic Book Of Spells to get its contents on phone, its contents were somehow transferred to her phone instead of copied to it. And given that Violet, as shown in the episode ‘Friendship Hates Magic!’, is quite book smart and is also smart when it comes to magic, I think that she might be able to figure out why that happened. And I think that Violet would take into account the fact that, as shown in the @therussohousehold’s Janna VS The Forces Of Darkness fanfic which was inspired by @skleero’s Janna Vs. The Forces Of Evil AU, the Magic Book Of Spells apparently counted being scanned by an overhead book scanner as being read thus temporarily bringing its spells to life and that would probably make sense to Violet since, given how book smart she is, she would probably know that an overhead book scanner’s camera (and cameras in general too for that matter) operates similarly to a person’s eyesight since both involve taking light that bounces off of the objects they’re viewing and converting it into something electrical. And I think that Violet would theorize and take into account that the Magic Book Of Spells probably creates some sort of magical link between itself and its owner given that, as shown in the episode ‘Book Be Gone’, the Magic Book Of Spells seems to recognize the person who reads it as its owner and prevents anyone who doesn’t own it from writing in it. And Violet would also realize that a book scanner would technically fit neither category since it’s just a device and thus doesn’t count as a person at all and that the book scanner would be taking light that’s bouncing off the Magic Book Of Spells. So, based on all this, I think that one theory Violet might come up with is that, if some of the book’s magic had piggybacked on the light bouncing off the book, then that probably created a magical link between the book and the light bouncing off it. And, based on that, Violet might conclude that when the book scanner’s camera took that light and converted it into electrical data, it converted the Magic Book Of Spells’ contents along with it and that it didn’t also happen with a person’s eyesight because it adapted to their consciousness since the book recognizes its owner but a book scanner has no consciousness to adapt to. Violet might also come up with another theory by picturing the Magic Book Of Spells as a dot labeled Point A and anyone (or anything) who reads it as a dot labeled Point B with the magical link that the Magic Book Of Spells makes with its owner being the line between the 2 dots. In the case of the Magic Book Of Spells and the person who owns it, Point A and Point B are indeed connected together by the line. In the case of the Magic Book Of Spells and the person who doesn’t own it, there’s no line between Point A and Point B to connect them. And in the case of the Magic Book Of Spells and a book scanner that doesn’t count as a person at all, the book’s magic got confused and thus did something in between by making a line that was connected to Point A but, instead of also being connected to Point B, the line pointed at it and led Point A towards it like an arrow just like how the Magic Book Of Spells’ contents were led into the book scanner and then into Janna’s phone.
As for Luz Noceda and Amity Blight, I think that Luz and Amity would get along quite well with Webby and Lena respectively in particular. In the case of Luz and Webby, I think that they would get along quite well because, as I pointed out in my Compare/Contrast of Webby Vanderquack and Lena Sabrewing And Luz Noceda and Amity Blight post, both of them are quite optimistic as shown in the episode ‘Witches Before Wizards’ where she was quite optimistic when it came to being a witch’s apprentice and learning magic and, as shown in the episode ‘Daytrip Of Doom!’ where Webby was quite about going on an outing with Huey, Dewey and Louie. And, in the case of Lena and Amity, I think that they would get along quite along quite well because, as I also pointed out in my Compare/Contrast of Webby Vanderquack and Lena Sabrewing And Luz Noceda and Amity Blight post, they’re practically kindred spirits since they both had abusive parental figures who tried to kill their loved ones as shown in the episode ‘The Shadow War Part 2: The Day Of The Ducks!’ where Lena’s aunt Magica used Lena and tried to kill Webby who Lena formed a very close bond with and as shown in the episode ‘Escaping Expulsion’ where Amity’s mother tried to stop Amity from forming attachments with Luz, Willow and Gus and also almost got Luz killed in an Abomination demonstration. And I think that Luz and Amity would be very enthusiastic about helping Webby, Lena, Violet and Morgana learn more about magic. And speaking of learning more about magic, I think that Webby, Lena, Violet and Morgana would be quite fascinated by Luz’s Glyph magic which, as shown in the episode ‘The Intruder’, is about drawing magical symbols that symbolize certain elements and bringing those elements to life when the symbol is tapped and also quite fascinated by Amity’s witch magic which, as stated in the episode ‘The Intruder’ works because of the witches’ somewhat unique anatomy. And I think that Lena might get creative and see if there’s a way to combine Glyph magic with witch magic since, as shown in the episode ‘The Beagle Boy Breakout!’, Lena tends to think outside the box. And they would probably also be fascinated by how the Glyphs, as shown in the episode ‘Escaping Expulsion’, can be combined to create certain spells.
As for Cedric The Sensational, I think that he would get along surprisingly well with Morgana since, as shown in the episode ‘Cedric’s Apprentice’, Cedric formed a bond with Princess Sofia despite wanting to steal her magic amulet at first and, as shown in the episode ‘Fungus Amongus’, Morgana formed a romantic attachment to Darkwing Duck. So, both Cedric and Morgana grew attached to their enemy in some way. And I think that Cedric might also help boost Lena’s morale with her magic when she’s having trouble with it since, as shown in the episode ‘Substitute Cedric’, Cedric was able to boost an entire class’s morale with their magic training during his Never Forget The Sorcerer’s Secret musical number by telling them to never give up. Lena would probably take Cedric’s advice since, as shown in the episode ‘Nightmare On Killmotor Hill!’, she was able to stand up against Magica De Spell by persevering through her nightmares with the help of her loved ones and not giving up. But Lena would probably also find it strange that Cedric would use a musical number to convey the lesson. Also, I think that Webby, Lena, Violet and Morgana would like to theorize about the Amulet Of Avalor given what Cedric found out about it in the episode ‘Hexley Hall’ which was that the Amulet Of Avalor’s powers change depending on who is trapped inside it.
#disney#american dragon jake long#haley long#star vs the forces of evil#janna#the owl house#luz noceda#amity blight#sofia the first#cedric the sensational#ducktales#ducktales (2017)#webby vanderquack#lena sabrewing#violet sabrewing#darkwing duck#morgana macawber
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Terror Threads has released two The Innkeepers shirts. Designed by Toto6, they're $30 each.
#the innkeepers#ti west#sara paxton#pat healy#horror#innkeepers#terror threads#toto6#shirt#gift#kelly mcgillis#larry fessenden#jake ryan#lena dunham#magnolia pictures
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cinnamontographer jake kiszka strikes again
#this is exclusively for rou and lena#gvf#greta van fleet#gretavanfleet#jake kiszka#jake gvf#jake kiszka gvf#little mouse
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The Hunger, Episode 2
Ménage à trois
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Lena Headey as Ruby Ryder
The Long Firm
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Darren's reply and Comments on Darren's Instagram post (October 7th, 2022)
#darren criss#they have the range#max adler#ashley weston#kathryn gallagher#maneesh k. goyal#julia mattison#therese curatolo#evan rachel wood#lena hall#darren robinson#chris mann#fox sinclair#scott pask#freddy wexler#carson kressley#jake goldbas#keith caulfield#mason alexander park#jim caruso#caitlin brody#jean christophe laizeau#live at cafe carlyle#darren's ig comment#instagram#oct 2022
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youtube
#calzona#callie and arizona#greys anatomy#hosie#hope and josie#legacies#stef and lena#the fosters#alex and sara#salex#supergirl#legends of tomorrow#manifest#michaela and zeke#zekaela#jatie#jake and katie#containment#karamel#kara and mon el#maya and carina#station 19#maura and jane#rissoli & isles#swanqueen#emma and regina#ouat#once upon a time#multicouples#Youtube
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Nightshade
Chapter 14 | Chapter 16
Chapter 15: Wet On Wet
TW: some sensually themed dreams, language as always, mentions of smoking and drinking (as always), mentions of past violence and minor injuries, some minor violence (the friendly kind this time), fluff, some Simone, some Howard, Jake & Olive finally get to have that heart to heart 😈👀, Jake and Lena are shameless flirts, a bit of light somewhat smut (oral, fem receiving), flashbacks and a good old cliffhanger to really torture you guys.
SO sorry for the wait! As many of you know I had some work stuff going on, but things are finally slowing down and I'm hoping I'll be able to really get back on track with these fics. I did my best editing this long ass chapter (38 freakin pages), so as always sorry if there are any mistakes! Enjoy!
The slight chill that swept into the room brought goosebumps to my flesh, though I couldn’t really know for sure if it was the breeze or the sensation of Jake’s lips dragging down my neck. I knew outside it was cold, but I didn't feel it, even with the window open. I felt warm, almost smothered in heat. “Jake.”
His lips curled into a smile against my collarbone as he hummed, a thing he knew sent shivers down my spine. “Lena.”
“You’re tickling me,” I teased, wiggling in his arms.
With a huff, he lifted his head away from me, looking down at me with that dumb smile that warned of his coming mischief. “Am I? I had no idea.”
“Don’t you dar- JAKE!” I shrieked as his fingers ghosted up my ribs, lips resuming the light touches, tickling me in earnest now.
I rolled, just barely managing to escape his hold on me, darting forward into the hazy space of undefined shapes and lights. I only got a few steps in before his arms wound around my waist and hauled me back to his bed. A faint feeling sparked in my chest. Not the fear or the anger or the shame I expected. Not some old ache. It was something new, something almost foreign to me.
Laughter filled the room. My laughter. I rolled over again, my senses swarmed by the smell of his cologne as my face hit his blankets. His fingers traced the tattoo along my spine as I turned my head to look at him. Jake always looked like the perfect mix of heaven and hell, of sin and saint, of peace and war. He had a way of drawing me in that I didn't fully understand but that I didn't want to fight against anymore. "I like you."
His smile made me feel alive as he shifted closer with a light laugh. I dodged his kiss, burying myself in his blankets, listening to his infectious laughter as he joined me. "I think you might like my bed better than me, though."
"Maybe I do," I joked. "It is really comfy."
"It's certainly better than your bed."
I scoffed. "I'll have you know that bed is very comfortable! I've slept sixteen years on it, and each one has been glorious!"
"Jesus, sixteen years?" Jake replied, finding me beneath the covers. "No wonder it's all lumpy."
"I like lumpy," I retorted, scrunching up my nose at him as he pulled me in close. "And so do you."
An amused look of curiosity made him look younger as he settled his head against his arm. "Do I?"
I nodded, smoothing my hands down his shirt. "Everything I own has lumps. My mattress, my favorite pillow." My throat tightened as I chose my next words quietly, "I'm lumpy." Jake's eyes softened, and his smile turned into a sweet one. "And you like me… Right?"
"Yeah, I like you, princess." His lips were like silk against my own, slow and unhurried, passionate but not at all demanding. Safe.
My eyes shot open, and for a split second, the feel of a bandage against my neck made me panic. Patrick's industrial snoring was quick to banish all my fears as he tossed himself onto his side, putting his loud mouth right next to my head. Peter was curled up like a cat on the opposite side of me, his head of peach fuzz tickling the side of my face. Outside in the living room, I could hear Dom tidying up after himself. I lay in bed, looking up at the ceiling for a moment, that odd feeling my dream had caused to stir inside me slowly starting to dim.
Feelings like that, the warm and fuzzy things that nestled deep into the soul and opened people up from the inside out, they were dangerous. This world was filled with too many people who took advantage of others and used feelings of warmth, love, and safety to manipulate, lie, and abuse. I could practically hear my mother's voice, whispering loving words one moment and then spitting insults at me the next. Alongside thoughts of her, he was never close behind. I closed my eyes and counted my breaths, focusing on where I was now. Somewhere truly safe. Not some dream. Not with a stranger. Home.
Only when Dom ran into the corner of the table and loudly cursed did my brothers stir. Patrick’s snoring abruptly stopped, and he sat upright, slowly sliding off the bed. Peter simply opened his eyes, still looking tired as he sighed, running a hand down his face. “Table?”
“Yeah!” Dom hollered back.
Patrick yawned, stretching before standing up from the floor and heading to my bedroom door. “You staying for breakfast?”
The shadow of the large biker was all I could see of him as he met Patrick outside the door. “Sure, I ain’t got anywhere to be yet.”
“How's the neck?” Peter asked, slowly sitting up and looking over at me.
I touched the bandage and shrugged. “It’s fine. Like Oz said, it was just a little scratch.”
He nodded, watchful eyes narrowing slightly. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I answered. “It wasn't as bad as some of the other times. Watching Dom get all… That was the worst of it."
"I'll be the last one to act like that guy didn't have it coming, but I'm glad Dom snapped out of it before things got too ugly. You did seem a lot more present after it all this time," Peter agreed. "I still figured I'd ask, though."
I rubbed his head and smiled at him. "I know. You're just doing your brotherly duties and whatnot."
He shrugged, standing up with a stiff groan. "Well, shower and change. I'll try to salvage breakfast."
I listened to him leave, greeting Dom with fondness and then attempting to help Patrick with cooking. Throwing the blanket over my head, I fumbled for my phone before flipping it open and wincing at the screen's bright light. I answered Prue and Quinn's messages of concern, and then, without hesitation, I opened Jake's contact.
I'm alive! I texted. You know, just in case you were feeling hopeful that you were finally rid of me.
After spending a few more minutes listening to the sounds of my brothers bickering over breakfast and Dom making awkward small talk, I got ready for the day. The shower water was warm and relaxing, and soon the smell of savory bacon and slightly sweet pancakes wafted into the bathroom. I changed the larger bandage around my neck for a smaller one, meant to hopefully not draw too much attention.
"Holy shit, you didn't burn anything," I remarked, stepping out of the bathroom and drying my hair with a towel.
Patrick nodded, patting himself on the back. "I'm gettin' kinda good at this cooking shit.” He set a plate down in front of Dom and smiled at me. “Better watch your back, lil sis. Looks like I'm comin' for your fancy cook title."
The biker took a bite of the pancakes and shook his head. “These taste like shit.”
“Fuck you!”
Peter kept his nose buried in his paper, quietly sipping his coffee as I took my seat at the table. Ozzy's loud steps echoed up the stairwell as he joined us with a smile. "Good morning, little misfits."
"Morning," we mumbled back.
He settled into the empty chair at the head of the table and tapped my arm. “I see you’ve changed the bandage. How is it looking?”
“It’s just a scratch,” I reassured him with a smile. “But thanks for helping patch me up last night.”
“Always, my dear.”
Patrick set the plate of food down in front of Ozzy, who looked at it with raised brows. “They’re letting you cook now?”
He rolled his eyes and sat down beside me. “Joke all you want, but you’ll all eat it anyway!”
“Or,” Peter spoke above his newspaper. “We could go to Nanas.”
“Rude,” Patrick huffed. “All of you.”
Ozzy took a few bites, swallowing them down with large gulps of coffee before he turned to me again. “I almost forgot! I’ve been emptying the storage unit behind the bar and found your paintings!”
I played with my food and sighed. “Are they taking up too much space?”
“Afraid so,” he chuckled. “I forgot how many you did.”
“Me too.”
Dom wiped his mouth and set his dishes in the sink. “Me and the boys can take them to your place if you want.”
“Aren’t you guys busy?”
“Nah,” he replied. “I’ve got time to spare.”
“Okay, that’d be a lot of help. Thanks, Dom.”
“No problem, kid,” he said, still looking a bit awkward as he passed me with a hesitant pat on the shoulder. “See you later.”
My phone buzzed on the tabletop, bringing a smile to my face but at the same time making those warm feelings start to bubble up again. Damn, and here I was, enjoying my peaceful morning.
Patrick glanced over my shoulder and smirked. “You two are just adorable.”
“Shut up!” I shoved him, moving back into my room to grab my bag. That’s rough. I hate to tell you, but you’ll never be rid of me now, Sweetie.
*
He smiled down at his phone, reading Lena's message once, twice, before replying. Damn, and here I was, enjoying my peaceful morning.
That's rough. I hate to tell you, but you'll never be rid of me now, Sweetie. Jake could hear her evil cackling in his head, a sign, perhaps, that he'd been spending too much time with the redheaded minx of a woman.
Smirking down at his lap, his fingers slid across the keys. I'll never recover.
Simone cleared her throat, sipping her mug of coffee with dead, predatory eyes, and like a child caught playing with a forbidden toy, Jake's back went ramrod straight. Her red-lined lips curled into something between a scowl and a smile. "What's funny?"
"What?"
"You've been smiling, practically giggling to yourself since we sat down." She set her mug down and wildly gestured with her hands before moving them to settle under her chin. "So, what's funny?"
Jake's mood almost instantly deflated as he shrugged. "I don't - it's nothing."
She hummed, clearly unhappy with his answer. "How typical."
"Simone-"
"No," she replied, softer as her shoulders fell and she looked defeated. "I didn't ask you to come to yell at you, Jake. I just… I miss you."
For the first time in months, he saw the softer side of Simone - the side that had raised him. She blinked a few tears away as she straightened in her seat, clearing her throat to keep her voice from breaking. Guilt filled him, a sense that he'd been neglecting her… Abandoning her made him sick to his stomach. "I miss you too. I'm… I'm sorry things have been so strained."
She smiled, a thoughtful look taking over her sad face. “It’s not entirely your fault. I’m guilty of letting things get to this point as well. What matters is we’re still here… Together.”
“Always,” he replied softly, a calm reassurance washing over him.
From there, things flowed smoothly. Conversation with Simone returned to how it always was, natural, honest, and open. The two of them laughed together and caught one another up with the gossip of the restaurant. She took a drink of her coffee and laughed. “It’s been rather enjoyable watching Howard freak out every night.”
Jake laughed with her. “Hell yeah, it has been. I don’t know what’s been going on with the schedule, but I have been thoroughly enjoying it.”
There was a short moment where Jake thought he saw something fill her eyes, a look of knowledge and a slight quirk of her lips before she covered it with a sigh. “It has made me a bit worried at times.”
“Worried?”
“For the others,” she answered. “Sasha and Ari and the lot of them haven’t exactly had things easy lately. I just hope they’re all doing alright under all the pressure.”
Jake smiled, a fond, warm feeling filling his chest as it appeared that Simone had gone back to how she’d always been. Kind and loving, and concerned for those around her. She helped people with things, and she was much better at it than he was. “They’ve been alright as far as I can tell. Ari’s got a girlfriend to help keep her grounded. Heather’s got that cook she’s been seeing. Scott’s Scott. Sasha’s sober-”
“Sasha’s sober?” Simone asked, eyes slightly wider in shock.
“Yeah,” he replied. “He has been for a while now.”
“Interesting.” She mused.
His phone vibrated again, and that smile returned to his face. Aww, don’t worry, tough guy. I’ll try to make the time as enjoyable as possible.
"So, how is your new fling?" Simone suddenly asked, smiling with that gleam in her eyes she always got when he gossiped to her. "Anyone I know?"
"No," Jake said, shaking his head. "It's nothing like that."
There was a long pause, a silence that was as stiff and unnatural as the skyscrapers that surrounded them. "You will tell me when that changes… Won't you?"
Jake caught her meaning without her having to voice it. Simone was asking him to be honest with her about the nature of things with Lena. He nodded, responding with a chuckle meant to put her at ease. "Trust me, I don't think you'll have to worry about anything like that."
“That’s good,” she said. “Though I have been meaning to ask if Lena has been alright lately. After everything with her mother and the stress I unknowingly caused, I’ve been worried about her.”
“She’s been alright,” Jake assured her. Simone made a noise, her brow arching slightly. “Why? Has she said anything to you?”
“Oh no,” she said, waving him off. “She’s not said anything to me, but she does seem like the type that would keep things like that bottled up to spare others.”
“And you think she’s been doing that?”
Simone shrugged before reaching over the table and holding his hand. “Breathe, love. You know her better than I do, so if she seems normal to you, then I’m sure she’s fine.”
It was then that Jake realized that ever since he’d left the bar last night, a feeling… hideous and slightly selfish had plagued him. He’d watched the entire encounter and had prepared himself for the worst. He was ready to follow Lena to The Cape, but instead, she was fine. She appeared a bit dazed, but after a minute or two, she’d reached out, touched him, and held a casual conversation as though nothing had happened. It was a pattern he’d taken note of early on, the way she would brush off serious moments where her life was in danger and push forward without second thought or care. He’d found it odd the first time and had written it off as them not being close enough for sharing deep emotions. But now, it was clear she did this often enough.
He had no clue why she’d care so little about her own safety, but that feeling, as ugly as it was, was something valid. He was frustrated. Angry that she didn’t even blink when someone threw a rock through her window intended for her. Angry that she’d reacted so little after almost drowning in the ocean or getting cut with a knife. Angry that Lena Harrow, a woman that meant more to him than words could express, had not even considered just how important her life was to him, to all of them. As Jake walked to work with Simone beside him, the feeling festered.
*
I watched the drones of people passing by the diner where Prue and Quinn ate their breakfast, my mind still letting that dream play. It wasn't like dreaming of Jake was new. I'd had at least a dozen over the past months, but those were… They were sexual, raw things fueled by the underlying well of desire that everyone had. Jake being at the center was just proximity. Having not had sex in a while didn't help the dreams die down. But that dream was different.
There was nothing too sexual, nothing that compared to the others, but I felt impossibly more shaken by it than those. It wasn't about Jake but about how I felt in an unknown place… How I didn't react at all when he grabbed me. Instead of falling into a terrifying memory of Tony or my mother when his arms had wrapped around me, I was flooded with warmth. I was certain, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I was safe. Jake made me feel safe.
It was just a dream, I reminded myself. But even that reminder couldn't account for all the other times Jake had made me feel that way. Times I'd apparently been able to ignore until now. Dreams often made little sense, they were a science still discussed and debated among even the brightest minds. Yet one thing everyone agreed on was that dreams were messages sent by our subconscious to warn us of threats and to help us realize things of importance. That knowledge only made me feel more confused. Was Jake a threat? Or was he something important? Was this dream meant to be a warning or some realization?
A hand waved in front of me, pulling my attention to Prue as she asked, with furrowed brows and concern in her eyes, "You're being quiet. Is everything okay?"
I sighed. "Just in my head. Sorry."
Quinn rolled her eyes, saying and signing, "Let me guess. This is about your little bartender?"
I answered with my middle finger.
Quinn returned the gesture with ease as Prue shook her head at us. "Is something the matter between you two?"
"No."
"Then why the long face?" She wondered.
Buttering a biscuit, Quinn snorted. "Here's a crazy solution to your sour mood. Fuck. Him. I'm telling you, it'll solve all your problems."
"It's not that." This caught her attention. "I… I had a dream about-"
"Ohh, my god!" Quinn interrupted with a whine, throwing her head back. "I love you to death, Lena, but I swear to Christ, if you're trying to pass another sex dream off as platonic, I'm going to throttle you!"
"Shut up!" I insisted. "It wasn't… The dream was normal."
"No sex?"
"We weren't even fully naked."
"Interesting," Quinn cooed, wiggling her brows. "Sounds like you've got some real feelings to unpack."
I shook my head and set it in my hands. "I knew there were feelings. I mean, of course, I like Jake, he's my friend, and he's…" With a heavy sigh, I melted into the booth. "It was more about how I felt."
The slight shifting breeze in front of my covered face told me Prue was attempting to get my attention, but I couldn't bring myself to move. Quinn cleared her throat and kicked the seat beside me. "Well, how did you feel?"
"Warm," I answered softly. "Safe."
There was a moment of quiet as Quinn translated for Prue. "That's a good thing, isn't it?"
I knew the question was Prue's before I even lowered my hands to see Quinn's face. She understood. Having been my friend since we were younger, Quinn knew why feelings of warmth… Of safety were so dangerous. It was because, in this life, safety was more often than not just a fancy lie, an illusion, people told themselves to keep from thinking about all the horrible things in the world. Things that could and did happen. Things that happened to me and Quinn and Patrick and Dom and Jake and Ozzy and everyone else that was unlucky enough.
Prue didn't have life easy either, but she grew up under different circumstances, better ones. She grew up in a stable home with two parents that loved and protected her. Quinn and I had always agreed on the simple fact that Prue was the best of us. Funny, talented, confident, and, most importantly, kind, she made everything better. As I looked into Quinn's eyes, it was as if we'd shared the same thought. We make everything worse.
We held that thought for a moment before Quinn nodded, a silent acknowledgment, a gesture meant to reassure me that my feelings… My fears were valid. It had taken me, taken everyone I knew with similar mountains of trauma, years to trust anyone, even family. Yet, I trusted Jake… I felt safe with him after just a few months of knowing him. It was frightening and entirely foreign and not something I'd expected or realized fully before now.
Prue tucked my hair behind my ear and smiled. Beautiful and kind, Prue said, "Good or bad, you still have us."
"Thanks," I whispered, signing a quick but no less heartfelt, "I love you guys."
Her eyes shifted to my plate. "Are you going to eat that bacon?"
I set the greasy meat on her plate, smiling as she tugged me into her side and kissed my cheek. A different kind of warmth, simple and innocent, eased my conflicting feelings. Though some feelings still seemed to make me tense and confused, love certainly wasn't one of them anymore.
When I arrived at 22West the chaos was palpable. While the bikers that had secretly tailed me waited outside, casually moving through the busy crowds of people and traffic and hanging out in the old bodega across the street, I was thrust into a kitchen of sweltering heat, and Scott hurriedly rushed the team through prep.
"Holy shit," I breathed.
Scott's scowl was set as he glanced up at me. "Hurry and change. All hands on deck."
"What's going on?"
"The fuck do you think?"
"Another scheduling mixup?"
"Yep." He shook his head, taking a sharpened knife and chopping an onion. "Now hurry up!"
I rushed to the staircase, hurrying up each step. "Yes, chef!"
Jake barely flinched when I collided with his chest. With a chuckle, he steadily me. "Easy there, princess, no need to throw yourself at me."
"You're so funny," I replied, slipping past him with a smile. "Scott's freaking out, so I gotta get ready."
He leaned against the door frame. "How's your neck?"
I halted in the quick stripping of my shoes and looked at him, tentatively pressing my fingers to the bandage that kept the small cut covered. "It's fine."
"Some asshole almost cut your throat open," he replied, almost angry. "And you're just fine?"
"I…" Sighing, I shrugged. "I don't want to talk about it."
Jake shook his head. "That seems to be the theme, doesn't it?"
"What's crawled up your ass today? You seemed fine with it all last night."
Mimicking my shrug, he held my gaze. "Maybe I just realized you'll never really let anyone help you."
"That's not fair." I glared at him. "And not true."
"What's not fair is you just expecting me to not say anything when you almost die because of some crazy person throwing a rock through your window and putting a knife to your neck." He paused and relaxed his tense posture slightly. "I was scared. When I shoved through that crowd and saw you covered in blood… I was scared, Lena."
"I…" Fear was an odd thing for people like me. People that had seen and lived through horrors most people never knew. Shocked would have been a more accurate word, but I doubted Jake cared about the words I used. "I'm sorry about last night being so fucked and about acting like it didn't happen."
"It's not your fault that it happened," he assured me. "I just don't want you to feel like you have to pretend like any of this is normal."
I chuckled and put my shoes in my locker. "It's not normal, but for me, it's not exactly out of the ordinary either."
He gave me a considering look. "Are you ever gonna explain what that means to me?"
"It's…" I turned away from him, focusing on my locker. "There's a lot of shit I've put behind me, or have tried to, and some of it comes with some nasty people that wanna fuck my shit up." For a minute, I really missed having my dad's jacket. I missed the comfort it brought me in situations like this. "I want to tell you about it. I do. But it's… It's not easy."
Jake moved like he was water, his silent steps bringing him beside me. His arms wrapped around me awkwardly. "Look, I get it. Just… don't forget you matter. Your life, your peace, or whatever the fuck you wanna call it, matters."
That warmth, that sickly sweet feeling of safety and security, was back. It was wrapped around me, smothering me in Jake. His cologne, his voice, the feel of his arms around me, the faint memory of his leather jacket, the memories of every dream I'd had of him. Oh, how I wanted to stay wrapped in that feeling forever. But that tainted, ugly, corrupted voice that was still so entangled in my very being made doubt and fear wash over that feeling.
I carefully turned, offering Jake a slightly tense smile. "Thank you."
It was clear he could sense the sudden tenseness that had filled me, but with a reassuring squeeze of his hand, Jake let it be. The commotion of the kitchen grew unimaginable now as Scott's loud voice echoed through the stairwell. Jake smirked, unable to hide the enjoyment he got from everyone going insane. "Better get down there, or Scott's gonna start throwing things."
"And you wouldn't?"
"I don't," he replied. "I was born for this shit."
"Hmm."
The cocky grin he sent me on his way out made my heart sputter. Watching the doorway for a second too long after he left, I shook my head of the less-than-work-appropriate thoughts and resumed changing. Scott had the kitchen in full swing as I hopped between the open positions, turning the chaos of the night into something better.
Everyone was in a horrible mood. The cooks shoved and bickered over having no space while the servers fought among themselves over petty things. Simone's never wavering smile made me irrationally heated, but it was Olive's loud and obnoxious voice filling every moment of silence with overconfident boasting and pointless jabbering that really made things difficult. Still, I kept my head up, and I found ways to lighten the tension.
Sasha barreled through the doors and stuck a finger in Heather's face. "You pampered privileged brat!"
"Oh fuck off!" She sneered, shoving his finger out of her face.
Scott groaned, throwing his rag down and stepping in between them. "What the fuck is going on?"
"She stole my sale!" Sasha insisted. "Sneaky cunt talked my take into another bottle of wine, but now they want her to get the tip."
"I wouldn't have had to step in if you'd paid attention to your tables."
The two of them raged like feral street cats. "ENOUGH!" All eyes turned to me. "My god, pull it together! Heather split the tip with Sasha. Sasha, kiss the guest's asses better. And everyone get the fuck back to work!"
Silence filled the kitchen as Isaac and another cook slid five plates onto the outgoing table. "Um… Table fifteen is up."
Sasha took three plates, turning and looking at Heather. "Follow me?"
"Yeah," she replied with a sigh, picking up the leftover dishes.
Scott and I rejoined the line, working quickly to make up for the time lost by the distraction. "You did good. Those morons would've been at it all night."
I laughed. "Everyone's just under a lot of pressure."
"Well, you seem to handle it better than most."
"Thanks chef."
Everyone soldiered on through the remainder of the night, luckily no more petty fights broke out and while overbooked the guests seemed easy enough to please. By the end of service I was standing next to Santos helping him and the rest of the dishwashers finish up all while making jokes and telling stories to help keep everyone's spirits high. The servers hurried upstairs, Simone sparing me a smile as she walked past without Olive by her side.
"Tiger!" Sasha shouted. "Have I ever told you how positively annoying your infectious goodwill is?"
"No."
He smiled, squeezing my cheek. "Well, It's absolutely horrendous and I hate it."
"Love you too Russian bastard," I replied. He flipped me off and headed up the stairs.
*
The night had been horrible, truly one of the worst ones since all the scheduling fuck ups began. Jake heard multiple squabbles echoing from the kitchen and wine cellar, but lucky for the sloppy servers he was good at his job. Nicky finished taking stock of the bar while Jake counted tips, hoping to finish before the group returned looking to drown their shitty moods. "Did you make good money tonight?"
The voice was sweet, sickly so, and he turned his head to find Olive sliding into the space beside him. Here we go, he thought, turning his attention away from her. "Can't complain."
"Well you are rather charismatic when you want to be," she said, running her fingers up his arm. "It's one of the things I like about you."
"Good lord," Nicky mumbled, trying to stifle a laugh.
Jake sighed. Months ago, before Lena, he'd get a real kick out of Olive's whole act. Hell he probably would have fucked her a few times if she was a tolerant lay. But now, her constant presence and her attention was unwanted and unnecessary. "What's your game?"
"I'm gonna go get changed," Nicky said quickly as he fled from the bar.
"What do you mean?"
Jake gestured to her hair. "Are you just trying to prove some point or is this seriously you trying to replace Lena because your mom didn't love you enough?"
Olive pushed herself up against him, rolling her eyes. "I want you. No game. No fuss. Unlike some people I'm not afraid to go after what I want."
The dig at Lena was obvious and so wrong Jake laughed in her face. "You don't even know what you want. You think if you act like her, dress like her or look like her that everything will just magically click. Well, life's not that easy and neither am I."
"That's not what I've heard." She insisted, ignoring his insults. "I've heard the gossip, you haven't had sex in months. Months all because she wants to be an upright brat. You don't owe her anything Jake, and she's not going to give you what you want… What you deserve. So come on, what's stopping you?"
That's it. He set the money down, turning to face her fully. "I'll make this as clear as I can since you seem so slow. I don't want to fuck you. Most of the time I don't even want to look at you. You, Olive or Olivia whatever the fuck your name is, are pathetic. I. Don't. Want. You. I will never want you."
*
After finishing the dishes and telling Nicky I'd cover the bar for him I made my way toward the front. As I opened the door I just barely had time to move as Olive rushed out from behind the bar past me. “She doesn’t seem happy.”
“She’s probably not,” Jake replied with a thin smile.
“Should I be careful around the stairs?”
“You should be fine,” he said, walking toward me. “Guess she just can’t handle my charm.”
I laughed, standing my ground as he entered my space like all the times he’d done it before. “Well, her loss. You are quite charming."
He laughed a bit and shrugged. "You helping me with the masses tonight?"
"Looks like it."
"Good. I like having you behind a bar."
I smirked, pressing against his chest. "You haven't had me behind a bar." His eyes darkened as he caught my play on his words. "Yet."
His eyebrows rose. "Not gonna leave me hanging again?"
"You're really not gonna let that go are you?"
"Nope."
The crowd of coworkers was demanding after a long night of horrible service, but Jake and I made a good team. Eventually we all closed things down and Jake and I headed upstairs to change. Howard stood in the locker room, quickly straightening up as we entered. "Lena," his eyes darted to Jake. "I was hoping to speak with you before you left."
I folded my arms. "Speak then."
"In private."
"Am I fired?" I asked.
"No!" Howard answered quickly. He sighed, taking a step forward, one Jake almost matched. "I wanted to apologize. I knew things with your mother were… I… I shouldn't have put you in that position."
I nodded. "I'm glad you realize that and I accept your apology Howard."
He smiled. "Thank you. I…" Once again he looked at Jake and straightened his back. "I'll see you both tomorrow."
Once he was gone Jake scoffed. "What a dick."
"Apologizing hardly makes someone a dick."
"Please," he insisted, changing. "He only did it to get back in your good graces. He didn't mean it."
I changed as well, shaking my head at him. "Howard's strict, but he's not horrible."
"Agree to disagree." He closed his locker, leaning back to watch me fix my top. "We going out tonight?"
I shrugged. "Ozzy's doing another karaoke night."
"Sounds fun." He stood up straight, following me out. "You gonna sing?"
"Fuck no." I bumped his shoulder. "Are you?"
"No," he laughed. "I don't think anyone wants to hear that."
"I do!" I replied, smiling at him. "I bet you're a good singer."
Smirking, he tilted his head. "Why's that?"
"Because you have such a pretty voice," I answered. "Especially when you're breathlessly whining my name."
Jake leaned in, breath caressing my face as he said, soft and slow, "You're it."
I hadn't felt the light touch of his hand on my shoulder until he hurried past our friends with two large strides. "That's cheating!"
*
On the stage, Patrick was spinning and dancing fancily, singing Enya's Orinoco Flow with every ounce of passion he could. The crowd of drunken patrons both booed and cheered him on. All of my friends that sat in our booth were in hysterics laughing. This kind of thing probably seemed odd to them, considering Patrick's build, appearance, and profession, but to me, this was a glimpse back into our childhood. Enya was always his favorite.
Sasha downed the last shot at the table and pointed at me. "Your dirty bitch ass is singing tonight!"
"Good luck with that," Quinn mumbled, taking a sip of her drink.
"Problem Quinn?" I asked.
She set her glass down, nodding. "You're being a buzzkill!"
Jake's smirk did little to help me contain my laugh. "How am I being a buzzkill?"
"You won't sing with us!" She whined. "Prue and I have been begging you every karaoke night! Last time it was because your grumpy bartender was throwing hands in the street. The time before that, you said your throat hurt. And so the excuses go on!"
I shrugged. "Maybe I just don't want to sing."
"But you're so good at it!" She continued. "And it's more fun with all of us! Prue won't even go up without both of us there."
Jake looked at me again, this time with a slightly raised brow. "Sounds like solid evidence to me, buzzkill."
Shoving my elbow into his arm, I cocked my head. "I'm a buzzkill now? I'll have to remember that next time you call me late at night."
"You were a buzzkill then, too," he retorted. "From what I understand, hanging up on a friend in a time of need is considered rude."
The crowd erupted into cheers as Patrick stepped off the stage with an over-exaggerated bow. He made his way to our table, accepting high fives and fiat jumps along the way until he reached his drink and chugged it. Breathlessly wiping the excess from his mouth, he smirked at me. "Are you going up tonight?"
Quinn nodded, making her eyes as big as possible as she pursued her lips out, begging me. I turned in my booth seat, resting fully against Jake and letting my legs stretch out over the empty seat. "Nope."
"Copperhead?" Quinn asked, glaring at me over the table. "Execute operation raccoon."
"Wait-" I tried.
Patrick grabbed my ankles, pulling me away from Jake's cocoon of warmth as he dragged me out of the seat. "Roger that, Peach. Come on, little sis, it'll be fun!"
"Patrick!" I growled as he hoisted me up over his shoulder.
With a slight groan in his voice, he nodded to Quinn. "This a duet or a solo act?"
Chuckling, she joined us, pinching my cheek and dodging my hands as I waved them around, trying to slap her. "Bitch you're lucky I'm coming up with you at all after that!"
Prue's face lit up as she hopped away from Will's side. "Are we going up?"
"Hell yeah, we are!" Quinn signed, throwing an arm around her. "Every girl group has at least three members. The cute one, you darling Prue. The sexy one, me, obviously. And the bitch-"
I scoffed. "Someone's delusional."
"See? Bitch." She flipped me off.
Patrick hurried up the stage and popped me back on my feet. "Give 'em hell, little sis."
"I'll deal with you later," I growled.
*
Jake watched Patrick sling Lena over his shoulder, carrying his sister toward the stage as she moved like a crazed raccoon trying to shake herself free of his grip. After hearing about karaoke night, Jake couldn't help but secretly hope Lena would take the stage. Part of him wanted her to be bad at it. At least then, it'd be easier to remember that she wasn't perfect, but the other somehow knew she wouldn't be. So he sat up in their little booth and watched the siblings argue for a moment before Lena finally seemed to cave.
Arms crossed and a bitter, but still slightly amused, scowl on her face, she stood next to her friends as they flipped through the song booklet. Jake couldn't help himself as he lifted his hands up and signed one of the only two words he remembered from Prue. "Smile."
She shook her head, clearly fighting a grin as she lifted her finger and flipped him off before signing back the only other word he remembered. "Asshole."
He couldn't have contained the laugh even if he'd tried. From beside him, he noticed Peter's smile grow, and for a second, he wanted to ask him why, but then the drug-dealing biker sat down across from him. "Give us the booth Pete."
Peter nodded, sliding out of Lena's seat and walking with his brother to the bar. Dom hadn't given him any trouble since the first time he ran into the man in the alley, but Jake still tensed. With a forced tone of calm and uncaring, he asked, "Is there a problem?"
The biker smirked. "I ain't gonna kick your ass or nothing if that's what you're asking."
"Can't blame me for being on the cautious side after the other night."
"A fair point." He turned his head, looking over at the stage where Lena was now trying to help her friends decide on a song. "I wanted to say thank you."
"What for?"
"Being with her after I…" Shaking his head, Dom sighed. "Trouble always seems to follow her, and I guess lately I've been realizing more and more that I can't always be there to keep her head above water." On that, it seemed Jake and the drug dealer agreed. Lena was a woman that lived just a few steps ahead of the storm, and while he knew little about what she had put behind her that made everyone so damn protective, he knew enough to recognize the danger. "I didn't think you were gonna stick around this long. I took one look at you, a hot-headed, ill-tempered little boy running his mouth to anyone and everyone, and figured you'd run out of steam long before now." With a chuckle and a smile that Jake would describe as almost friendly, he said, "Guess I'm saying I'm glad you're still here to help keep her out of trouble."
It felt weird, having someone - especially someone like Dom - thank him. He could count on one hand the number of times he'd been sincerely thanked for anything. It was rare and often tied to a string of favors. This wasn't, though. This was a type of gratitude Jake was unfamiliar with, a type that required practically nothing from him. Dom, a man who commanded respect, thanked him for something that Jake enjoyed. "I'm just being a friend."
The man shook his head. "Lena has plenty of friends, but none of them are like you. Whether you see it or not, you're important to her. Don't waste it pretending it's as simple as friendship."
His gut instinct to deny the truth of Dom's words came bubbling up his throat, but anything he would've said was silenced as the music finally came roaring to life on stage. The girls huddled around the singular microphone, Quinn on the left, Lena on the right, and Prue in the center with her hands raised up in an easy signing position. I Got You, Babe, by Sonny and Cher, was not the song he'd imagined them choosing, but it fit the trio well.
Lena's voice was light and perfectly melodic as she sang Cher's lines with a smile. Quinn's naturally lower voice suited Sonny's part well enough; the impression she had of the old singer, however, did not. Giggling would occasionally fill the microphone as Prue attempted to vocalize the background harmony while she signed the words. It was chaotic, but not a single person in the crowd complained as they sang along and cheered the trio on.
Ozzy's tall figure stood next to their booth with a smile. "Been a while since I've heard that voice."
"She doesn't sing often?" He asked, wondering why she wouldn't with a voice like that.
"She used to." He chuckled. "Drove everyone damn crazy some mornings. She stopped after Jack passed." The bar owner's face grew solemn as he looked over at Dom. "Seems like our girl's getting some of that spirit back."
The biker glanced at Jake, nodding. "Looks like it."
"I got you, babe."
*
Hearing the crowd's encouraging cheers and their enthusiastic waves and smiles made me feel almost giddy. It had been so long since I’d been on the stage, so long since I’d really let myself enjoy the little things that had once been normal. My eyes lifted to the bar, where just for a moment, I could have sworn I saw my dad’s hulking figure standing at the office door. Prue squealed beside me, latching onto my arm and shaking me. “That was so much fun!”
Quinn wrapped an arm around me with a smug smirk. “Told ya!”
I shook it off, returning their smiles. “Yeah, yeah, you were right. Whatever!”
We made our way back to the table, where Ozzy served a round of drinks to Dom and Jake, who sat across from one another in a way that made me suspicious. Oz turned, wrapping me in a bone-crushing hug. “My little showstopper!”
“Oz!” I giggled. “It was hardly showstopping.”
“Nonsense, it’s you, so it’s always magnificent.”
Once he let me go, I turned my gaze back to the two men sitting in the booth. “Having a nice conversation?”
Dom looked over at Jake and shrugged a shoulder. “I was perfectly pleasant.”
“Sure.” I nodded to Jake, who looked at Dom with an uncertain expression. “You wanna get out of here for a bit?”
He knew what I meant and carefully slid out of the booth. “Sure.”
Once the noise from the bar faded and the slightly chilled breeze washed over us in the alley, I turned. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” he answered, slightly confused. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Dom can be…” The image of him bloody and angry popped into my mind. “Overprotective.”
“I noticed.” Jake opened the gym door, holding it for me as we slid through. “He was just thanking me for helping out the other night.”
My eyes widened slightly as I searched Jake's face, waiting for some kind of punchline. "Really?"
"Yeah," he said. "Why does he not do that often?"
"No. Dom's not exactly the most vocal guy." I bumped his shoulder. "He must like you."
Before Jake could answer, Patrick whistled. "Oi! Jerky Jake, grab some gloves and hop in the ring!"
Jake looked at him with confusion. "Aren't we meeting tomorrow morning?"
"We are. It ain't me you're gonna fight tonight."
Peter moved from inside the ring and smiled. "I'm the challenger. If you're down for a quick match."
Looking over at me, the silent question hung between us. Is this okay? I shrugged. "If you think you can take him, hop on in, Jerky Jake."
"If I win, do I get a new name?" He asked, rolling his eyes.
"No," Patrick and I answered.
He draped his jacket over my shoulders before walking off toward the locker room. I hid my smile as I shoved my hands through his sleeves. Looking up at Peter, I sighed. "Are you up for this?"
He made a face, annoyed and slightly worried. "I want to at least try, and Jake's honorable enough not to kill me."
"He's also still kind of shit." Patrick shrugged. "It's the truth!"
Jake joined us again moments later, now dressed in more casual breathable clothes. He hopped into the ring and got to work preparing for a match.
I leaned on the ropes, watching Jake secure his gloves, and listened to Patrick's instructions. "Peter's got the technical advantage while you've got the physical. Don't get cocky."
"And just be prepared," I added. "Win or lose, he's gonna be such a good sport it'll annoy the hell out of you."
Jake smiled. "Noted." Once Patrick left his side to talk to Peter, he stepped closer. "Gonna give me a good luck kiss, princess?"
I leaned forward, my lips hovering over his. "Raincheck?"
He bit his cheek and shook his head. "Now you're just being mean."
"Try not to get your ass kicked too bad. It'd really fuck up your reputation, tough guy."
The match itself was slower than a normal one would be, and while Peter looked in better shape than he had months ago, he was still struggling to keep up. Jake was clearly holding back, taking Peter's hits without even really attempting to dish any out, and my brother knew it. He stopped, lowering his arms with a sigh. "Hit me."
Jake followed through with a weak punch to Peter's shoulder. The movement barely rocked him. Pete shook his head. "Fucking hit me, Jake."
"I'm not gonna hit you, Peter," he replied.
"Then we're gonna be here all night." Peter landed another slow blow. "HIT ME!"
That was when Jake moved faster than he intended, throwing a real punch that hit my brother square in the gut. Patrick and I jumped slightly, hands tight on the ropes as we prepared to jump over and help him. Jake was frozen in place as he looked down at my brother, who lay across the mat, breathing heavily.
Peter's laughter instantly put us all at ease. "Well, shit! You've got some chance at this, after all!" Jake held out a hand and helped him to his feet. Peter shook his hand, his smile never faltering. "Keep that up, and you'll be ready for a real match in no time, little brother."
The smile on Jake's face said it all as he looked at me. "You're right. That is annoying."
"I told you," I replied with a grin.
Patrick tucked under the ropes and slapped him on the shoulder. "Hell yes! Just a bit more practice on that footwork, and you'll be ready for a real fight."
As Jake changed, I slapped Peter's arm. "What the hell was that?"
He shrugged. "I wanted to see if I was strong enough to take a hit."
Patrick nodded along. "Well, you are."
"You're both fucking stupid."
I made my way out into the alley, sitting on the couch and letting Whisky jump in my lap. Jake joined us shortly, awkwardly sitting next to me. "Are you mad?"
"That you punched my idiot brother?" I laughed. "No."
"Thank god," he breathed, reaching over to pet Whisky.
Usually, he'd have lit a cigarette already, but tonight he just leaned into my side and pet the hairless cat. "No smoke tonight?"
"Nah," he replied. "I don't really feel like I need one."
"Okay," I replied, smiling. "Whisky isn't too big a fan of the smell anyway."
Jake scoffed and shook his head. "Hemingway loves the smell."
*
The brush smoothed along the surface of the canvas, leaving a thin trail of vibrant cerulean in the path I carved. Soft, even strokes helped mingle the dark shade with the lighter ones just enough to shift the overall hue of the waves. Teal paint bled into the water as I gently dipped the tip of the brush in the small glass jar, washing it around for a moment and watching the color move through the water before I pulled it out and applied the wet brush to the canvas, smoothing over the paint to blend it further.
The noise of the city outside was almost unnoticeable as I lost myself in the art and to the feeling of freedom I'd long forgotten it brought me. Art. The expression or application of human creative skill and imagination. To the billions of people that populated this planet, art was subjective to the eyes that beheld it. Each piece, each artist, a topic of debate to try and put a physical value or price tag on it to determine its worth. A pointless venture, one that changed more than the phases of the moon.
I remembered the stifling feeling of those rich, snobbish eyes on my paintings. I remembered feeling naked under the expensive and lavish gown my mother and Tony had squeezed me into. Most of all, I remembered looking at the painting everyone admired and wondering in my mind, the only place of solace I'd been allowed, why I felt nothing. No matter how many people complimented my work or technique, the piece in front of me remained empty. A void, I'd realized years later, a place for me to depict how I felt beneath the makeup and clothing. A silent cry for help that no one heard but me.
"So much talent! And for one so young!" An older woman adorned in fine silk and sparkling jewels cried out as she smiled at the looming shadow beside me. "You must be a very proud patron."
His laugh, deep and foreboding, sent chills down my spine. The weight of his arm curling possessively around my shoulders and his hand squeezing my arm made me feel nauseous. "Very proud indeed. Lena is an extraordinary girl."
The woman practically swooned at him, eating up his fake smile and fake words with glee. "Oh, Anthony! How did you ever come to discover such a hidden talent?"
"Hidden?" Tony questioned with a shake of his head. "It was never hidden from me. Nothing is, right, Lena?"
I looked up, daring to meet his gaze as the hand on my arm squeezed tighter. The dead gray of them spoke the words he didn't, his smile never faltering. "Right."
All too pleased with my compliance, he turned away, re-engaging in conversation. From across the room, my mother scowled at me, waiting until the passersby had left before storming over to us and turning me, pulling roughly on my hair to tighten it back into place. "Are you trying to embarrass us?" Before I could answer, she turned me again and shoved against my chest, forcing my back straighter. "Stand up straight, Lena! Chin up, neck extended!"
My eyes stung with repressed tears that the pain my fractured rib caused me in this position. My breaths were shallower, the pressure of my injuries making sure I got less air than I needed. Tony set a hand on my mother's cheek, and she calmed instantly, meeting his eyes with a sparkling gaze and a soft smile. "Relax, Jennifer, everyone's so focused on her painting they'll hardly remember her slouching."
"You're right," she said with a laugh. "You always are, dear Anthony."
I spared a look at the painting that hung beside me, bathed in light to properly showcase the colors. Intricate and ornate and entirely void of life. An empty thing created simply to fill space. A reflection of myself.
The brush held firm on the canvas as I breathed through the mild sensation of old panic and hopelessness. Soon the steadiness of the brush began to waver as tremors overtook my hands. The brush fell to the floor, followed closely by the glass jar of colored water as I moved my arm out to steady myself on the stool.
My front door slammed open, and Ryker shoved himself inside, gun in his hand and eyes scanning the room before quickly finding me. "What happened?"
"Nothing," I breathed out. "Nothing happened. I just…"
He put the gun away and came to my side, carefully pulling me into his arms and hugging me. "What do you need?"
I closed my eyes, trying to slow my breathing and regain control of my still-shaking hands. "Just stay and talk."
"That I can do," Ryker insisted.
"Thank you."
He talked for what felt like hours, telling me every story he could think of, most at Dom's expense. Eventually, my body relaxed, and Ryker eased into moving around my living room, helping me reorganize the massive piles of canvases, both painted and blank. He set a pile of sketchbooks down on my counter and smiled. "I remember when you always had one of these with you. Rain or shine, no matter where you went, you had one of your little books and some pencils."
I leafed through the colored pages, admiring the scribbles of my younger self. "Yeah, it was nice getting to draw stuff I wanted to."
With a wide grin, he turned the sketchbook he'd been looking through toward me, revealing my old sketch of him. "You sure know how to capture my good side."
"Every side is your good side," I reassured him, punching his cheek and snatching the book out of his hand.
It was old, bound in rich red leather, and practically falling apart. One of my oldest sketchbooks and one filled with faces I'd drawn. My dad. Ozzy. Patrick. Peter. Nana and Abdul. Quinn. Prue. Everyone that meant something to me. The pages were stained with smudges, but the pictures I'd drawn still held some life in them. Compared to my most recent one, the one I'd filled with new faces from 22West, it looked like a book you'd find in some dumpster.
I set the book beside my newer one, blue leather still tightly bound beside the old one. Ryker helped himself to some leftovers as my phone rang. The wide smile practically made my cheeks hurt as I looked down at Jake's familiar number. "Hello?"
"Hey," he answered, sounding a bit breathless. "You busy?"
"Nope," I replied, shooing Ryker out of my apartment. "What's up?"
"Bored. Figured you'd have something for me to do."
I cleaned up after Ryker, opting to save the dishes for later. "Did you just finish your training session with Patrick?"
Jake chuckled. "Yeah, he got in a few good hits today."
"Well, how about some lunch at Nana's to help with your aches and pains, tough guy?"
"Sounds fun. See you there."
"See you there."
Nana's was just a few blocks down the road, but by the time I'd changed, I was certain Jake would be waiting for me outside. Instead, I found him sitting at a table, laughing with Nana as she set plates upon plates of food down in front of him. When she turned to get more, she saw me, her eyes lighting up with joy. “There she is! My lovely girl!”
I kissed her cheeks and smiled at her. “Hi, Nana. Trying to make him pop?”
Jake laughed at my joke while Nana swatted my arm. “He’s thin! The boy needs to eat!”
“Well,” I said, sitting down across from him. “I hope you’re hungry.”
“I am,” he replied with a smile. “Besides, the food here is so good I don’t know if I’ll be able to resist.”
I nodded. “That’s how she gets you.”
“Truly dastardly.”
We ate and talked for an hour or so before we were roped into delivering more food to Prue and Ozzy. Prue and Katie welcomed us with open arms and growling stomachs. Prue taught Jake some more words in sign language. The sight of him so intentionally paying attention and trying to follow along with her teachings without words made my heart swell. Katie nudged me. "Not gonna fuck him, my ass."
I scoffed at her. "I'm not."
"Oh, sure!" She replied with a grin. "I might not be very smart, but even I know what that look means!"
Prue made a loud noise, a cheer, as Jake got the sign right. Waving me over, she pointed to him. "Watch!"
Jake repeated the motions just as she had. "I like Lena Harrow."
My eyes went wide, and my face burned as Jake looked up with a tilt of his head. "What did I say?"
"Nothing!" I replied over Katie. Turning to Prue, I signed, "I'm gonna get you back for that bitch."
"What? I thought it was cute!" She giggled, giving Jake a hug. "He's a quick learner."
"What's she saying?"
"That you're a quick study," I replied. "Come on, you don't need any more compliments."
Just as we turned, Patrick walked through the door, his hair smoothed back and his clothes looking better than usual as he picked at the bouquet of flowers in his hand. Jake and I paused, all three of us staring at each other, questions waiting on each of our tongues. "Not a word, Lena." My brother warned. "Or I'll make my boyfriend jokes even worse." He added in Irish.
I nodded. "Good to see you, big brother."
"Jake," Patrick greeted as he passed to stand at the front desk, where Katie returned, eyes wide and cheeks pink as she looked at him and the flowers.
"Patrick," Jake replied with a grin.
"Have a nice date!" I replaced, slipping out the door as his loud fuck off echoed through the glass.
The bar was slow when Jake and I arrived, moving through the bouncers and the bikers, who all sniffled the air and mumbled about how hungry they were. Ozzy was behind the bar, looking down at a small stack of papers, signing here and there. "Order for the mighty Oz!"
He looked up, smiling at the sound of my voice. "No wonder why it's taken so long! Nana entrusted my meal to the chatterbox!"
I scoffed. "Don't look at me. It's all Jake's fault!"
Jake glanced at me. "Really?"
Ozzy opened his meal, happily digging in before gesturing between the two of us. "What have you two been up to today… together?"
"Lunch," I replied. "So scandalous, I know."
"Well, it seems like fate then that I just so happened to find a box of old photos."
"No!" Ozzy set the box on the bar between him and Jake, easily holding me back with his arm as I tried to reach around him to get it. "Jake, don't even think about looking!"
He'd already pulled out a stack of photos, grinning ear to ear as he flipped through them. "Holy shit. This just became the best day ever." He held one up, one of me and Quinn at the arcade looking like idiots.
I reached over, trying to snatch it from him. "Gimme!"
"Here, look at these ones," Ozzy said, handing him another stack.
"Ozzy!"
The two of them laughed at my expense for twenty minutes. Ozzy even promised to look for the old home videos my dad had recorded for Jake to see before the subject finally changed. The topic, however, didn't exactly spare me any attention. "Did all your paintings make it to your place alright?"
I nodded. "Yeah, they're all still in one piece. Though you were right, I might have too many."
"Paintings?" Jake asked.
"You haven't seen them?" Ozzy asked as I smacked my head on the bar. "Lena is quite the artist!"
"This has been absolute torture," I whined, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "See you later, big guy."
Outside, Jake looked at me again, eyebrows raised. "Paintings?" He repeated.
I groaned. "Seriously? Were the pictures not enough for you?"
"Oh, come on, you did say you'd show me last time we hung out at Nana's."
"Fine, I will, but that means you'll have to return the favor with your photography."
"Deal."
Back at my apartment, Jake sifted through my old canvases and ate up all the stories I’d share with him about each one, eyes bright and focused solely on me. It was addictive and somewhat intimate in ways I didn’t understand. "You have a lot more than I was expecting."
"Yeah," I scratched the back of my neck. "I had a lot of time after moving in with my dad. It was easier to express how I felt with paint. Words… They're harder to put together."
Lifting an old piece of Cape Cod, gloomy and swimming in dark colors and muted tones, he nodded. "I think I understand. I'm not exactly good with words either."
I arched a brow. "No? And here I thought you were charming."
"Flirting doesn't count," he replied with a wink. "We both know I'm good at that."
"Uh-huh."
He moved to my sketchbooks, flipping through the pages of my youth, appreciating each one. He stopped on my dads sketch, smiling at the picture. "You look a lot like him."
The compliment was so genuine and innocent that it almost brought tears to my eyes. I tucked my hair behind my ear and shrugged, suddenly feeling self conscious about the whole thing. "Really? Everyone always said I looked like my mom."
Jake made a face of disgust as he shook his head. "You don't look anything like her. She always looks so… Cold and judgmental, while you," he paused, looking up at me. "You look warm… Approachable like your dad looked."
"Thanks," I whispered.
"What's in this one?" He asked, setting down the older book in favor of the new one, the one he absolutely could not see.
"That one isn't done yet," I replied hastily while also trying to not draw too much attention to it. Still, he started turning the pages. "Wait!"
His mouth curved into a smile at the sight of the sketch of the restaurant. It only kept growing as he continued, flipping through the sketches of our coworkers until he stopped at his. Looking up, those eyes gleamed, prideful and smug. "You drew me?"
I tried snatching it out of his hands, but he quickly moved the book out of the way. "I drew everyone."
"What's this writing at the bottom?"
"Jake!" I jumped for the book again.
"Eyes so blue I drown,
In an ocean vast and deep,
Storm clouds gather,
And the sky cries out.
A cry for death,
A cry for life,
A cry for peace,
Eyes so blue he drowns."
After reading my poor poem, the smile faded slightly, his eyes scanning the words a second time. Then a third. After the fourth readthrough, he finally asked, "You wrote this about me?"
I shrugged, finally catching the edge of the book. He held firm as I tried to pull it from his hands. "Kind of. I'd drawn everyone else but couldn't get your eyes right. You probably thought I was staring at you to be flirty, but a lot of the time, I was trying to get a good look at your eyes. And once I finished them…" This sounds so dumb, I thought. "The words just kind of came to me, and I wrote them down. It's stupid, I know."
"It's actually pretty good." He smiled again, softer than before. Real.
"Oh?" I tried to hide my blush. "Never would have taken you for a man that likes shitty poetry."
"Maybe I just like your shitty poetry."
My face burned under his intensely sincere gaze as I pulled on the book harder. Jake leaned forward, towering over me with a satisfied grin. "Let go."
After a second chuckling at me, he let me take the book, closing it and setting it on the counter. "Are you gonna teach me something about painting now?"
"Do you want me to?" I asked with a nervous laugh.
"Why not?"
"I'm not much of a teacher," I answered.
Jake shrugged off his jacket. "Come on, princess, teach me something."
I relented too quickly, gathering my paints and clean water and setting up a new canvas on my easel. Once everything was ready, I handed Jake my brushes. "Hold these. I have to change."
Slipping into my bedroom, I searched for my usual painting clothes, a baggy T-shirt and shorts, but when those were found at the bottom of my hamper, I had to improvise. The tank top was a size too small, and the shorts were a pair of Patrick's I'd accidentally grabbed, but it'd have to do. Jake was still waiting when I returned. His eyes widened at the sight of my outfit. "Not a word," I warned.
He held a laugh. "You look good."
Grabbing my brushes, I organized them around my station and sighed, settling in the high stool. "Well, where do you want to start?"
"You're the teacher," he retorted, standing close beside me, pulling out and lighting a cigarette. "Why don't you just start, and I'll try to keep up."
"Alright," I picked a large brush dipping it in the water for a minute before wetting the canvas. "We'll start with technique. This is called wet on wet. It's where you wet the canvas before applying paint. It's best for watercolors and bleeding colors together."
He nodded, seemingly paying attention, but I caught a glimpse of that gaze. Dark and hungry and full of mischief. "Wet on wet sounds fun."
I rolled my eyes and squeezed a few drops of paint onto my tray. "Now I'm gonna cover the whole canvas in this yellow-orange color. We can layer more color on top to help us get the perfect sunset look." Focusing on the canvas, I ignored the clamoring noises off to the side of me until the easel bumped and Jake's hands set on my thighs. Looking down at him, now kneeling in front of my knees, I narrowed my eyes. "What are you doing?"
His fingers caught the hem of my shorts, the cigarette hanging from in between his lips, tugging them down impatiently. "Lift." With a sigh, I followed his request, lifting my hips to help him get my pants and underwear off.
"I thought you wanted an art lesson."
Jake smirked, blowing the smoke up toward me before putting it back between his lips, freeing his hands to carefully pull my legs apart. "I do. Just keep going."
"Fine," I huffed, trying to ignore the burning in my cheeks whenever I let myself recognize that he had my entire pussy in his face. The intense hammering of my heart and the pool of pleasure building in my gut as he pulled me forward and gripped my hips in his hands was thrilling and too distracting for me to keep going.
I could feel him breathe smoke out across my skin as he chuckled, tapping my thigh with his fingers. "Is the lesson over?"
"No!" I yipped, shaking myself out of the trance he'd put me in. I refused to give him that kind of satisfaction. "Wet on wet," I continued trying to recall where exactly I'd left off.
"Wet indeed," he teased, dragging his fingers through my folds.
My face, my whole damn body, was on fire. I bit my cheek and kept my eyes trained on the yellow and orange hues in front of me, mixing some red onto the brush and lifting it to stroke across the canvas, making sure to do it as sloppily as I could to ensure Jake got splashed with some of the drops. If it'd bothered him he didn't say. He just continued his lazy motions for a moment and smoked his cigarette. If I hadn't been so concentrated on trying not to moan, I would have complimented his ability to multitask.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and continued, "Once you mix enough red in around the edges, creating a nice contrast to the yellow, you'll wet the brush again and-" His fingers slid over my clit, making my jolt as the instant pleasurable sensation hit me with a sharp gasp. Jake's blue eyes drank in every bit of it. I breathed out and straightened up again. "And blend out the harsh edges."
"Edges…" I remembered his half-threat, half-promise from Ari's hotel room. Fuck. He held the cigarette up with a wicked grin. "Hold that for me, princess. I'm gonna need both my hands."
"Jake-" My fingers accepted the cigarette, and the desperate plea for mercy died on my tongue as he gave me a smug look. He'd be insufferable if I admitted defeat after all the shit-talking and all the riling up I'd been doing since that night. So I closed my mouth and gripped my paintings tight. "Don't bump my easel while you're down there."
His smirk widened, and his thumb rolled over my clit again. "Yes, ma'am."
God damn him! I lifted my head up, sucking in a deep breath as his fingers worked my clit in earnest now. Trying to paint with a very attractive bartender between my thighs was not at all what I imagined would happen today. Not that I could really complain. I managed to keep myself fairly composed, only slipping up a few times with heather breaths and some choice curves, but all my resilience just made Jake want it more.
I gave up trying to talk him through my actions when his fingers slid inside me, stealing my breath in seconds and forcing me to bite down on my lower lip to keep from giving into the pent-up moan I held in my throat. His pace was slow and languid, focused on building up the pleasure and pressure rather than trying to bring me to orgasm. It felt good, and he knew it. When my chest started heaving a little harder, he lifted his head up slightly, nodding to the cigarette that faded in between my fingers. "Give me a drag?"
Placing the cigarette between his lips, I let him take a long drag of it before pulling it away to place it in between my own lips. Maybe that'd help calm my nerves. Jake blew the smoke across my skin again, making it break out in goosebumps. His teeth scraped against my inner thigh, and in the blink of an eye, his mouth was on me. "Ah!" I breathed out a startled moan, my legs closing on instinct.
Jake's fingers left me as his large hands wrapped around my thighs, keeping them pried open. The cigarette fell from between my fingers into my paint water, fizzling for a moment as it snuffed out. My eyes closed tightly, the paintbrush pressing hard into the canvas creating long drip lines through the sunset hues. The warmth of Jake's tongue licking and sucking at my core made my legs shake, and my chest burn with the effort to keep my noises inside. He swirled his tongue around my already pulsing clit, and my composure snapped.
The brush clattered to the ground, just narrowly missing his shoulder as my hands slid into his silky hair. He hummed, the vibrations only making my body want more. "Oh my god! Jake," I breathed, head falling back.
He answered my breathless whisper of his name with his teeth, scraping them against my sensitive bud, trying to coax another moan from me. I could practically hear him encouraging me, the sensual whisper of his voice something my mind was well familiar with. Louder. More. Give me more. He pulled me closer again, startling me into leaning back, my hand reaching back to steady myself against the counter.
Jake's hands moved, one sliding up my leg to support my lower back while the other slid up my stomach. He cupped my breast, deft fingers once again working my sensitive nipple through the course material of my shirt. My eyes squeezed shut even tighter, making me see white for a minute as my hands pulled at his hair. "Fuck!" The pleasure building inside me was so close to exploding. "Jake!"
I could feel the corners of his lips lift, smug even now, as his tongue quickened the pace. His blunt nails dug into my back, urging me to let go, to give him the thing he'd been slowly forcing to build inside. "I'm… Shit…" My body was practically shaking now as I dared to look down and meet his eyes. The blue was gone, replaced by black pools of lustful desire. "I'm close."
A single flaming star burned in those dark eyes, a star that seemed to accept my words as some kind of challenge. And he was determined to win. His hand squeezed my breast one last time before disappearing beneath his head, sliding inside me with ease, pumping quickly to match the urgent pace of his tongue as it honed in on my abused clit. My eyes fluttered shut, ragged moans filling my apartment as I begged him, pleading with him to keep going. I could feel how every sound I made, every word I said, affected him.
I came on his fingers and tongue with a cry of his name and a sharp tug on the strands of hair still worn between my fingers. "Jake!"
He licked up every drop of my release before bringing his fingers to his mouth and cleaning them. Once he'd finished he settled back on his feet, grabbing my thighs and squeezing them for a second before he reached over and grabbed my underwear. Smiling, he offered them up. "I believe these are yours."
Ignoring the knowledge that my face was likely redder than the painting in front of us, I snatched them out of his hand. "You don't have to be so smug, you know."
Standing, he shrugged. "No, but it's more fun that way." I tried to stand, nearly tripping as my legs wobbled unsteadily. His smugness only grew as he asked, "Need a hand, princess?"
"No!" I managed to get my underwear back on without falling face-first into the mess of paint that I'd unknowingly made in my orgasmic haze of hands and movement.
Jake whistled, looking at the mess, while I couldn't look anywhere but at him. His hair was standing up, huge chunks of paint staining the dark strands, much brighter shades of red and orange. He turned toward me, looking like he was about to say something snarky, but before he could - and before I could stop myself - I'd taken hold of his shirt and pulled myself up to kiss him.
His lips were stiff at first, surprised by my sudden action, but after a moment had passed, they softened. Jake's hand lifted to cup the back of my head as his lips moved against mine. The light taste of myself lingered on him as my tongue darted out to taste his lips. As he opened his mouth, determined to devour me further, I pulled back.
"I thought we agreed, no kissing," he questioned breathlessly.
"We did..." I scrambled to come up with an excuse better than sorry you just looked so pretty standing in my apartment looking around like an idiot after eating me out. "It just seemed like the best way to thank you for all that hard work."
Jake fought a smile, dipping his head down to press his lips against mine again. "That one was cause I wanted to."
"Ass."
He caught a glimpse of my handiwork in the mirror and almost snorted laughing. "I think you got more paint on me than you did the canvas!"
I poked at the now-dry paint speckling the sides of his face and stuck in his hair. "Yeah, you're definitely gonna need help getting that out." Tugging him toward my room, "Come on."
Just like with every new space, Jake drank in the sight of my bedroom, curious but respectful. He admired the bed full of pillows and an old pile of half-folded laundry, but the antique wardrobe Quinn thrifted for me held his gaze longer. I watched him from the bathroom doorway, quietly appreciating how naturally he fit into a space I shared with so few. His long fingers ran over the old wood, eyes dazzled by the craftsmanship before him. "Does it live up to your expectations?"
Jake turned his head, eyes dragging down my body. I ducked my head, suddenly too aware of the fact I was only in my old underwear and a slightly too-small tank top covered in dried paint. "Kind of," he said. "I guess I always imagined it'd look like your old room from The Cape. This is more you, though."
"A compliment, I hope," I replied, turning to get my counter cleaned up.
"The highest."
I let the warm water run between my fingers for a minute before turning to look at him. "Shirt off."
Without hesitation, he began tugging the thin white material off. "Thought you'd never ask."
The sight of his chest made me pause, watching every flex and movement with wonder. When his shirt was over his head, I looked away, pulling a stool over to the sink. I set a towel over the edge, acting as a neck pillow for him, and patted the top. "Hop up."
Jake sat down and leaned back, blue eyes shining beneath my bathroom lights as I reached over him and fiddled with the temperature for a moment before letting it fill my palm so I could wet his head.
"It's not too hot, is it?" I asked, looking down at him as I ran my fingers through his damp hair, testing.
Jake looked breathless for a moment, his lips parting ever so slightly as his dark eyes scanned my face before meeting my gaze. "It's fine." The words sounded harsh, but the look on his face told me he hadn't intended for it to be that way. "It feels good."
I smiled, gently massaging his scalp. "I used to do this a lot with Peter and Patrick. They'd always find a way to get gum or something sticky in it. They even got lice once! Patrick swears it was Peter's fault, but of course, Peter claims the opposite."
"Knowing your brothers, it was probably a collective effort."
The laugh that echoed off my bathroom walls was too loud and embarrassing, but Jake seemed to like it. "Probably. Sorry for getting your hair all fucked up."
He rolled his eyes before closing them. "A bit of paint getting clumped in my hair is hardly fucking it up. Should show you the pictures from when Simone used to cut my hair. I looked like one of The Beatles one year."
"Oh my god, please!"
Jake laughed, looking up at me with those eyes. "Raincheck?"
"I'll hold you to it," I warned, returning my focus to working the paint out of his hair. As the comfortable silence pulled me into an odd sense of security, my eyes drifted once again down his bare chest.
Training with Patrick had resulted in Jake's arms growing lean with well-defined muscle. I could tell by the stiffness of his abdomen that my brother wasn't skipping other workouts in favor of his arms. "Like what you see?"
My eyes quickly looked anywhere but him, a bashful smile tugging at my lips as I turned, reaching for some shampoo. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Suuurreee," he drew out with a grin. "Feel free to stare as long as you like. I don't mind."
"Shut up," I mumbled, lathering the shampoo in my hands before massaging it into his hair.
His eyes shut, and his whole body relaxed with a lovely sound. "You're gonna put me to sleep."
"Good," I giggled. "Then I won't have to listen to you talk."
"Want to ogle my muscles in peace, do you?" He teased.
"Maybe." I looked back down at the tattoos that stained his pale skin, finally getting a chance to admire them closer. "I'm more interested in the tattoos, though."
Jake smiled wider, lifting his head slightly to look down at them. "Should have guessed. All ladies love the tattoos."
"Would you tell me about them?"
"Maybe." I gave him a look, and he instantly crumbled. "I will if you tell me about yours."
"All of mine or just the ones you know about?"
His brow rose, head tilting to the side and bonking against my sink. "There's more?"
With a smug smirk, I shrugged. "Maybe."
An amused scoff bubbled from his throat, and he asked, "Am I gonna have to guess?"
"I'll show you one if you want," I replied. "After you tell me about your tattoos."
“Ask away, princess. I’m an open book.”
My eyes took in the artwork that etched his skin, carefully considering my choices before I hummed. "What about this one?" I asked, removing one of my hands from his hair to poke the flowers on his upper arm.
Jake chuckled. "Drunk bet with an old buddy of mine. I lost."
"And the band?"
"Another impulsive decision made while half hammered."
I moved my other hand, leaning over him to touch the anchor on his other arm. "What about this one?"
His smile faded, and the light left his eyes. "I got that one for my mom. Or in spite of her, maybe… I don't…" He sighed. "She loved The Cape. Loved the ocean and ships. We had so many of the dumb things around the house. It's one of the only things I remember about it before moving in with Simone's family."
Nodding, I stoked the soft skin. "It's good to remember little things like that. Little things that made you happy once." My finger dragged down his arm, smoothing over the mermaid. "Now I get to ask you: why a mermaid?"
He shrugged, eyes still holding that far-off look. "I've kind of always liked them. Used to think it was a Cape thing. When I was a kid, Simone made up some story about my mom being a mermaid that had to return to the sea. It was… Comforting, I guess, at the time. After a while, it started getting harder and harder to remember what she looked like. Whenever I'd think of my mom Simone's face was all I could see."
I shoved down my disgust for Simone and what I knew she'd done with her position as Jake's maternal figure. "That's sad, but it makes some sense. You were young. Simone stepped up and raised you, so, of course, you'd picture her when thinking of a mom."
"Yeah," he replied. "I guess. Anyway, I got the mermaid because of that story she'd told me. She'll never admit this, but when she got back from France… After her divorce, she got a matching one."
On instinct, my nose scrunched at the nauseous feeling that came with his all-too-innocent reveal. "I'll be honest, I can't really picture Simone with a tattoo."
"She hates them," Jake answered, laughing. A look, fond, and if I'd been as naive as I used to be, something I would have thought was full of love. "But she got it for me. Something to show me that she'd never abandon me again."
Something to placate your rightful anger at her for leaving you in the first place. I bit my tongue. "What about this one?" I thumbed the words over his ribcage. "Together/Or?"
Jake's momentary joy dwindled slightly as he ground his teeth together. I was about to tell him he didn't need to share it with me, but then he spoke, "I got that one while Simone was in France with her asshole husband. Before she left, she said she and I were destined to be together, no matter how much space separated us. Together or separate. It made more sense in my head."
This time it was my turn to clench my jaw as I tried to think of something nice to say. "It looks good. It might hold some… Less pleasant memories, but as long as it brings you some kind of peace now, that's all that matters."
"Yeah," he said softly, eyes refocusing on me as I finished rinsing the shampoo from his hair and turned to grab a towel. Once I'd dried his hair a bit, examining it closely to make sure I got all the paint out, Jake smiled. "My turn."
Tossing the towel in the hamper, I held out my arms. "Ask away. I’m an open book."
Jake took a step forward, reaching out to push my hair away from my shoulder to run his fingers down my spine. "Might as well start with this one."
"The snake." I smirked up at him. "Your favorite."
"Can't decide which one's my favorite until I know about all of them."
I hummed in response before answering the question his fingers asked. "I got it after I'd been clean for a year. A symbol of, well, shedding my old life… and all the pain that came with it."
He understood, on some deep level, Jake knew exactly why something as simple as a tattoo would help purge the darkest of things clinging to the soul. His fingers moved again, sliding down my arm to the tiger. "And this one?"
"My first tattoo. I got it when I came to live with my dad. He used to say I was like a tiger. I had the rage and the claws meant for killing, but inside I was just a big cat. It was also the first time Quinn and I met Prue. We were sixteen."
"Quinn get one?" He asked.
I bit my lip to contain my laugh. "She got a peach on her ass with juicy inked in the leaf."
He laughed. "That sounds like her." The feel of his fingers sliding along my hip, tracing the intricate lines of the mermaid tail, felt too soft, too good. "I already know the story behind this one. With your mom and all."
"Yeah," I answered. "It's still pretty, though."
"It's very pretty," he reassured me, body sliding closer to mine as he bent slightly to tap my knee. "And this one. You said it was a reminder… That there are worse things than death."
I gulped, my jaw clenching and my body feeling tight as I nodded. "You remember François?"
Jake's face fell slightly, most likely remembering the hour he spent holding me as I sobbed in the stairwell. "Yeah."
"It's for him. Kind of. It's a reminder that things you love can get taken away from you if you're not careful." I cleared my throat, desperately trying to keep from crying again. "He lost the things he loved because of me, and so… When I got the chance, I got the tattoo. It helped me cope with it all, I think. At least a little."
There was a moment of silence before Jake spoke again. "It might hold some… Less pleasant memories, but as long as it brings you some kind of peace now, that's all that matters."
I laughed softly at the use of my own words against me. "Touche."
"Now, what are the others?"
"I have cherries on my ass." I held up my finger and stopped him in his tracks. "Quinn made me get them!"
He nodded, brows raised, and a poorly concealed smirk plastered on his face. "Of course she did. Does it say juicy, too, or?"
Damn it. I looked away, blushing slightly as I committed to telling him the truth. I owed him that much after his honesty with me. "It says ‘bite me’ in the stems."
"Oh, I've gotta see that!" He replied, laughing.
"Ah! I have two more!"
Leaning back slightly, he gestured for me to continue. "Let's hear it. I wanna make an informed decision."
"Well, there's one on my chest, above the heart. Canis Major. It's a constellation. My dad's favorite one. Each star represents someone I care about. Sirius, the heart of it, is my dad. Muliphein, the head, is Peter. Mirzam, the front foot, is Ozzy. Furud, the back foot, is Nana and Abdul. Wezen, the ass, is Patrick. The tail, Aldura, is Quinn and Prue. And there's this tiny cluster of stars in the chest area, by the shoulder, called M41. That's Dom and his lot."
"Do I get a star?" He asked only half teasing
I smiled wider. "You can share the ass with Patrick."
His eyes showed the joy his face didn't as he nodded along. "Last one."
"On the ribs," I said. "It's a big koi fish. A simple ode to an old friend in Japan. Now, let’s get this over with. Which one do you want to see?”
Jake considered his choices for a moment before taking a slight step forward and placing his hands on my hips. “Show me the fish.”
“The fish?”
“Yep.”
“And here I thought you’d never pass up a chance to see my ass.”
He shrugged, a gleam in his eyes highlighting the blue. “Oh, I fully intend on seeing it eventually, but I figured I should save the best for last.”
I tugged my shirt up just enough to expose the tattoo that lined my ribs. “Uh-huh, whatever you need to tell yourself, tough guy.”
His attention quickly turned to the simple linework. His hands squeezed my hips for a second before one moved, fingers sliding along the dark ink, curving with my rib in a feather-light touch that made my body tingle. I flinched with a giggle, meeting his questioning gaze with a look. “Tickles.”
“Ah,” he replied with a smirk that was all too familiar.
I lifted my finger to his face, grabbing his hand quickly. “Don’t even think about it.”
Jake scoffed playfully. “I would never.”
My eyes flickered down to his lips, admiring the soft curve of them for a moment, wanting to kiss him again, before I laughed it off, reaching off to the side to hand him his shirt. “Here. It’s probably got a few paint stains, sorry.”
He took it from me, examining it for a quick moment before shrugging as he threw it over his head. “I think it’s an improvement.”
We headed back out to my living room, standing in front of the painting that had suffered from Jake’s overactive tongue. “Not my best work.”
“I think it’s perfect.” He smiled at me. “Showcases both our talents.”
I rolled my eyes at him, moving to pick up the trays and cups of water left out. “You can have it if you want.”
Humming, he seemed to consider my offer. "So, who taught you to paint anyway?" He asked, suddenly, finally looking away from our masterpiece.
“Softly now,” Rada said, gently pulling my brush back slightly. “We want the colors to blend. It’s not a fight, Lyubov'.”
I laughed, following her instructions to help the colors meld together. “Who do you think would win in a fight, blue or red?”
Rada wiped a small dot of paint off her uniform and polished the glasses beside me, smiling at my ridiculous question. Still, she looked around and leaned in close as if it was some sort of master secret. “Purple.”
The two of us laughed louder as she pressed a kiss to my head. “Purple is a nice color.”
“It’s my favorite color,” she admitted. “But don’t tell the others.”
“I won’t,” I answered.
"A cleaning lady," I suddenly replied without fully intending to. "She was an immigrant from Russia, where she was an art teacher."
Jake smiled at my openness. "Did she teach you Russian, too?"
Nodding, I laughed to myself. "Yeah. It took a while, but she made learning it fun." I laughed more, tears starting to build in my eyes. "She used to put random Post-it notes all over the penthouse, labeling random objects. I ran around like a dog to find them all and show her I knew the right words."
"You lived in a penthouse?" He asked, and I froze. "Was that when you and your mom traveled?"
"No." Shaking my head, I stood, shakily gathering up the rest of my things and taking them to the sink where my dishes from earlier still sat. I counted my breaths in my head and flexed my fingers to keep the numbness and the memories away.
I was thankful that Jake was who he was because even though I knew he had a list of questions a mile long, he said nothing. He stood up and moved beside me, quietly helping me wash the dishes and clean out the painting supplies and stack them on my drying rack. After the task in front of us was done, he smiled, tucking my hair behind my ear with a still-damp finger, making me squirm. "Thanks for the painting lesson, princess."
"It was hardly a lesson," I replied. "I bet you can't tell me a single thing I said."
"I remember the term 'wet on wet'."
"Do you remember what it means?"
"No," he admitted with a sly grin. "But regardless of how much information stuck in this thick head of mine, I enjoyed hearing you talk about it."
I could feel the heat rising to my face as I bashfully shrugged. "Thanks for listening. It…" Pausing, I breathed out a soft sigh and smiled up at him. "It means a lot."
Jake nodded, a look of understanding filling his face with a youthful glow. "I know."
"Next time, it's your turn."
"What?" His eyes widened slightly, his brow arching, the dirty implication of my words clearly on his mind.
I rolled my eyes, smiling wider. "To teach me about photography. I believe the exact phrase you used at Nana's was, 'I'll show you mine if you show me yours'?" Gesturing to the paintings that lay scattered around my living room, I continued, "I showed you mine."
With an understanding nod, he replied, "Well, it's only fair."
The longer I stared at him, standing in my apartment, looking at me like I was the real piece of art, my body longed for that dream to come to life. I wanted Jake, not just to know what sleeping with him would be like, but the fun and soft moments that could follow as well. “Do you-”
His phone cut off my train of thought, and the look in his eyes, slightly stressed, slightly relieved, told me in seconds who it was. He smiled at me, a silent apology for the interruption. “Hey, Simone. No, I’m not home yet.” There was a long pause as she spoke to him over the phone. “Yeah. Yeah. I’ll see you soon.”
Once he hung up, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “Duty calls?”
“Sorry, she needs some help with something.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “I… had fun tonight.”
“Me too.”
“See you at work?” I asked, tapping his foot with mine.
Jake nodded, a soft smile reassuring me that whatever Simone had called him for wasn’t going to cause him any stress. “Yeah. Goodnight, Lena.”
I lifted myself up onto the tips of my toes and kissed his cheek. “Goodnight, Jake.”
*
From across the street he watched the man clad in leather and a simple t-shirt exit the apartment. The biker by the door smiled at him, shaking his hand and offering him some small conversation before he walked away down the street. He could just barely make out her shaded figure through the curtains as she moved through her atrocious apartment to turn off the light. “Should we follow him?”
Tony glanced away from the windows, following the man down the street with his eyes as he smoked his cigar. He said nothing, just gestured simply with his hand knowing the man beside him would understand his wishes.
“We should go,” Jules replied. “Before the other ones come down this street again.”
“Yes, we should. Wouldn’t want to rouse the old junkyard dog just yet.” He put the rest of his cigar out with his foot and smiled at the building. “Sweet dreams, baby girl.”
Once they’d walked a block or so away Tony unlocked his car, waiting with an annoyed look as one of his smaller paid men ran up to him, panting. “We found him, Sir.”
A cold smile spread on his lips. “Excellent.”
#fic: nightshade#sweetbitter jake#jake sweetbitter#sweetbitter#sweetbitter jake and oc#sweetbitter jake x oc smut#sweetbitter jake x oc#jake smut#jake x oc#sweetbitter lena#jake and lena#jake x lena#lena harrow#sweet bitter#sweetbitter fanfiction#sweetbitter fandom#sweetbitter fic#sweetbitter simone#sweetbitter scott#sweetbitter ari#sweetbitter sasha#sweetbitter heather#sweetbitter howard#sweetbitter ocs
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For the celebration (congrats btw!!) could we see the first time that it came up in conversation that Jake had a crush on a mystery girl? However you pictured it happening! Unless it’s too early to reveal it or if you have other plans for it! You can completely ignore this!!
I love your work!!
Aww thank you so much, darling! I love love love this request! I imagine this conversation happening between part 6 and 7 :D Hope you like it!
5k Weekend Bash Drabbles
Brother's Best Friend - Off Limits
Jake Seresin x Reader
“What’s the matter with you?”
Jake looks up from his drink, a little dazed. “What do you mean?”
Bradley gives him a pointed look. “Well, you didn’t even notice the two chicks we passed on the patio on our way in. Twins. You let me crush you at Mortal Kombat. Twice. You’ve barely touched your beer. And I’m pretty sure you weren’t listening to my rant about the pickles.”
“The pickles?” Jake cocks his head in confusion.
Bradley nods. “Mm-hm, the pickles that are supposed to be on this burger.” He gestures at his half-eaten meal.
Jake stares at Bradley for a moment. “Can’t believe I almost missed that.”
Bradley purses his lips sourly and returns his attention to his food. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re distracted.”
Jake looks down at his own plate and mutely picks up a fry.
Bradley, who’s about to take a bite, slowly lowers his burger, watching Jake zone out again as he chews. Bradley smirks, setting his burger down. “Spill,” he demands.
Jake cringes. “There’s nothing to spill.”
Bradley starts chortling. “Who is she?”
Jake sighs uneasily and finally meets Bradley’s gaze. “Uh, you don’t know her.”
“You bang her yet?”
Jake tries not to wince. “No. She… doesn’t know.”
“Doesn’t know what?” But after two seconds of contemplation, Bradley leans into the table excitedly. “Are you telling me you’re hung up on a chick who has no clue that you’re into her?”
Jake swallows uncomfortably. “Looks like it,” he responds miserably.
“Why haven’t you asked her out?”
Jake glances up at his friend, doing his best not to appear overly guilty. “She’s bad news.”
Bradley’s grin broadens. “I like the sound of that.”
Jake suppresses a groan. “No, it’s not what you think.”
“What do I think?”
Jake grimaces, staring into his fizzing beer. “I just mean… she’s not an option.”
“Because?” Bradley raises his eyebrows expectantly.
Jake shifts in his seat and looks back up warily. The truth is, he wouldn’t mind talking about you at all. In fact, he’s dying to tell his best friend about the emotional turmoil he’s been contending with since he realized he had feelings for you. But, as luck would have it, Bradley is actually the root of the problem, and consequently the last person Jake should be sharing with. Still, Jake really can’t resist talking about you, given how much he’s lately been keeping to himself. “Because she’s” – off limits – “taken.”
Bradley nods sympathetically. “Been there.”
Jake grips his beer stein and lifts it off the table. “Her boyfriend is a real piece of work, too.”
“So, show her that you’re better. Easy.”
Jake sets his beer back down without taking a drink. “Am I?”
Bradley leans back in his seat with a chuckle. “Oh no,” he says.
“What?”
“You fucking like her, dude.”
“I told you, I like her.”
“No.” Bradley shakes his head. “No, no. You don’t just like her, man. You like her.”
Jake is watching Bradley impassively. “Are you fucking glitching?”
Bradley laughs. “Admit it!”
Jake opens his mouth to protest that he already has, but then closes it again because obviously Bradley is right. “Yes, I fucking like her, Bradshaw. I like her enough to know that she shouldn’t be with me.”
Bradley’s obnoxious cackle has fizzled to a merry chuckle now and he shakes his head with a loud, theatrical sigh. “My boy is growing up!”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“I’m so proud of you, man.”
“I said, shut the fuck up, Bradshaw.”
Bradley raises his hands in surrender. “Okay,” he says giddily. “So, tell me about her.”
5k Celly
#lena’s 5k celly#BBF blurb#jake seresin#hangman#top gun#jake seresin fic#jake seresin x reader#glen powell#tgm fanfiction#top gun hangman#hangman x reader#jake seresin fanfiction#jake hangman seresin#jake hangman fic#hangman top gun#jake seresin imagine#hangman fanfiction#jake seresin x you#hangman imagine#hangman x you
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tag dump.
❝ ship ╱ ship name.
❝ character ╱ name.
#❝ character ╱ brooke maddox.#❝ character ╱ isabelle samson.#❝ character ╱ svana de la cruz.#❝ character ╱ nina patterson.#❝ character ╱ tatum riley.#❝ character ╱ sydney prescott.#❝ character ╱ naomi jade garza.#❝ character ╱ mina hensley.#❝ character ╱ lorelei hendricks.#❝ ship ╱ brooke + tyler.#❝ ship ╱ brooke + jake.#❝ ship ╱ brooke + isadora.#❝ ship ╱ nina + tyler.#❝ ship ╱ mina + tyler.#❝ ship ╱ sydney + dewey.#❝ ship ╱ lena + lex.#❝ character ╱ lena luthor.
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Awakening (Kara character study, small part supercorp softness)
“But why can’t I be matched to Tali, mom? She’s my best friend!”
Alura turned to Kara, her jaw tensed with frustration with the stubborn child. “Kara, you know better than this. Stable matching can only be achieved if there is a true bijection between disjoint sets-”
“We don’t even have a true bijection because the population is constantly changing, we don’t sort according to all possible preferences, we don’t even have-”
“It is not in our nature, Kara,” Alura said, with a dangerous tone in her voice. “We are not Daxamites.”
“But-”
“The answer is no.”
---
Kara is thirteen Earth years the first time she’s called “dyke.” She doesn’t know what it means. She had only been to school for a couple of weeks. Before that, the only substantial English she had spoken was the couple months with Eliza, Jeremiah, Alex, and Kal.
Clark, not Kal. Saying “Kal” would put her baby cousin- her older cousin- her cousin in danger.
Alex’s face flushes, and her eyes almost burn with anger, as she shoves Jake Howell against a locker. Kara could do it easily herself, but showing her newfound strength to humans would put her in danger too, somehow. Kara doesn’t think asshole is a nice word, given how Alex growled it. But she suspects dyke isn’t a nice word either.
That night after dinner, Eliza sighs, and hugs Kara gently - and Kara resolves to never get called dyke again.
---
“She’s gorgeous, she’s smart, she smells nice. Hell, I want to date her.” Kara flushed with discomfort, as the words came unbidden from her lips. But Alex didn’t remark on the odd statement, and Kara shoved the thought away.
Just weeks later, awkwardness would turn to tension as Lucy growled. “You and Hank, why do you all lie?”
“When you are an alien,” Kara choked, “You’re willing to sacrifice anything, everything, betray your fundamental instincts - just to fit in.” Something tugged in Kara’s soul at that moment. That she had always tried to fit in, long before she became an alien. But there simply hadn’t been time to linger.
It was only weeks later, when Lucy was saying her goodbyes before leaving National City to rejoin the military, that Kara felt the uncomfortable spike again. “I do know what it’s like to hide,” Lucy confessed.
Kara tilted her head, questions like why? and what do you mean? floating through her mind. But she thought it would be kinder not to ask. “I hope someday, you can be all that you are.”
Lucy gave a small smile. “Me too.”
---
She hadn’t expected meeting Lena to feel like lightning in her veins. The younger Luthor was quick-witted, and beautiful, and playful. Kara felt herself flush with the gentle teasing during their first coffee, and found herself marveling at never quite having a friendship like this before.
---
“So… so she’s gay?” Kara asked, the word heavy in her throat. “And are you saying, you’re gay too?”
Alex sighed and paced in front of Kara, her frustration just as apparent as her confusion. How can you not know if you’re gay?, Kara wondered, at the same time feeling strangely allergic to the conversation. Wouldn’t it be obvious? “What’s changed?” Kara asked.
---
Yeah, he was… immature. Irresponsible. But they connected - orphans of a lost planet, who spoke the same tongue, who had the same bewilderment in their first moments on an alien planet with newfound powers. And if being in his bed brought her pleasure, it was only proof of their connection, that a good relationship could come of it.
Sometimes there were those flashes - Mon-El had been confused by Alex’s coming out, not understanding the concept. The more the merrier would ring in Kara’s head, and she’d chase away the image of Lena’s face.
---
“I couldn’t have done it, Kara.”
Kara’s chest heaved as she gazed down at Lena, hearing Kal’s words flash through her mind. Lena clung to Kara’s arm as Kara hovered above the reservoir, and some corner of Kara’s mind knew that she should go land, that the danger was over. That Lena was safe. That the city was safe.
But she could only stare down at Lena, whose heart hammered in her chest, whose panting breaths from her climb had not yet slowed. I almost lost her, Kara thought, forlorn. I couldn’t lose her…
It was that moment that her world came crashing down, that realization made her feel like she was drowning. That romantic love wasn’t merely a combination of friendship and lust. That shared experience didn’t mean a shared connection. There was something that ran deeper.
She was in love with Lena, and she could no longer deny it.
---
It was a drunken movie night, after Lena’s breakup with James, when Kara heard I love you fall from Lena's lips.
“It was always you,” Lena confessed, her words slightly slurred from the alcohol as Kara finished pulling the covers over her. “I just wanted to be close to you.”
Kara stood back, feeling her heart pound as she watched Lena slip into slumber. I wish I had told you, Kara thought, her mind flashing to a moment long ago in a forest. I wish I had told you, before…
Kara spent a fitful night trying to sleep on her couch, and Lena’s eyes flashed with shame the next morning as she woke. But they left for Noonan’s, leaving the conversation behind.
---
It felt impossibly brief, that window of time after Kara had revealed her secret, where everything felt almost right with the world. Maybe someday, she and Lena could finish that conversation.
But she found herself in a kryptonite shell.
The universe ended soon after, and even magic couldn’t fix how they had broken. Until the day Kara finally found her hands in Lena’s, vowing together to take down her brother, and Kara felt again that hopeful wonder of what a future with Lena could hold.
And then she found herself in the Phantom Zone again, the words ringing in her head, I wish I had told you.
---
Sleep had eluded Kara in the weeks back from the Phantom Zone. So she was already wide awake at 2am, when she heard Lena’s heart begin to hammer.
Kara tensed, rushing to her window and ears tuning in as she prepared to fight off an assassination attempt or catch Lena as she fell.
But as she shot into the sky, she nearly tumbled when she realized that Lena wasn’t in distress. The shaky breaths and small laughs caused Kara’s chest to tighten in anguish. She’s fine, Kara thought, feeling tears prick the edges of her vision. She’s fine.
---
“Are you okay?” Lena said, when she finally found Kara in the Tower, sitting on a step. “Alex said she couldn’t find you - you were in the Fortress?”
Kara glanced up from the steps. “I just, um. I was reading in the Fortress, I fell asleep there.” It had the benefit of being true. The Fortress was far enough to drown the sound of Lena’s heart out.
Lena shuffled next to Kara, taking a seat. “I don’t remember seeing any beds there.”
“I float in my sleep,” Kara shrugged, staring at her hands as she let silence fall.
Lena shifted, uncomfortable with the quiet. “Are you okay?”
Yeah, Kara almost said, but something stopped her this time. Perhaps it was the poor sleep. Perhaps it was the litany of I wish I had told you that would replay in her mind.
How many more times am I going to do this?, Kara thought. How many more times am I going to carry that regret? “I love you,” Kara said finally, sensing Lena tense up next to her. “I know… I know that door is closed. But I love you. I should’ve told you so long ago.”
“You… you heard me last night,” Lena wondered softly. “So you went to the Fortress?”
Kara grimaced. “I stopped listening as soon as I realized,” Kara said, fighting a panic. Will she be angry? “I never meant to- to invade your privacy. I’ll be more careful.”
“The door isn’t closed,” Lena said. “If you don’t want it to be.”
Those words made Kara brave enough - or maybe just confused enough - to finally tilt her head up to meet Lena’s gaze. “But- last night-”
“I’ve been trying to get over you. Not very successfully,” Lena added, with a wry grin.
“Really?” Kara smiled.
“Really.”
---
The matching laws had been long dismantled by the time a smiling Alura officiated their marital rites. Kryptonians didn’t have concepts like best man or matron of honor, but that didn’t stop the two women from inviting Alex and Kelly to stand at each of their sides as they said their vows.
Kara never imagined that it’d be a woman’s wrist she’d place her wedding bracelet on. Though she supposed she never imagined marrying on an asteroid of her father’s creation, or marrying for romantic love, or marrying someone her people would call Hero of Argo for the creation of a black rock.
She never imagined finally telling Lena her secret. She never imagined Lena’s forgiveness. She never imagined the feel of Lena’s lips pressed against her own, hands tugging at her robes, as she whispered zhao against Lena’s lips.
And she never imagined being the one to make Lena’s heart race.
#I deleted this WIP a minimum of 3 times before it finally became a thing#supercorp#mel writes ficlets
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Hangman Master List
Back to Main Master List
Multi-Part Stories
THE DANGER ZONE MASTERLIST >
Left at the Altar Part 2 [*] Part 3 Epilogue [*] - Fem!Reader (Ex-Girlfriend!Reader)
CW: Suggestive/Implied Sexual Content (Part 2 and Epilogue), Angst, Exes, Pregnancy and Kids (Epilogue only)
Summary: When you get left at the altar, a familiar face swoops in to save the day.
COMPLETED
Sequel: Stay Away from the Altar
What is L-O-V-E? Part 2 Part 3 - Bradshaw!Fem!OC (Lena) (Ex-Wife!OC)
Summary: Lena Bradshaw (formerly Seresin) struggles once again to keep the peace between her ex-husband Jake and her older brother Bradley for her son's sake. And the uranium facility mission only seems to heighten the stakes of it all.
DISCONTINUED
Prologue To Be a Man Part 2 Part 3 - Wife!OC (Sophie)
CW: Secret Marriage; Non-Traditional Family Dynamics; Marriage of Convenience; Type 1 Diabetes
Summary: Hangman is married. And it’s no one else’s business.
PART 4 COMING SOON
Blood in the Water - Cain!OC (Alina)
CW: Arranged & Political Marriage; Post-Apocalypse AU with a Medieval Feel; Blatant Sexism; Abuse from Family Members
Summary: In a post-apocalyptic world, the livable landscape is carved up by warlords. After a long war with the Dagger Clan, the Cain Empire has been defeated, but peace cannot be brokered without a sacrifice. Hangman assumes that a marriage is that sacrifice. Cain thinks that Hangman’s death is a better trade.
DISCONTINUED
Never Have I Ever Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 - Civilian Contractor! Female! Reader (Dove)
CW: Not Necessarily Healthy Decisions/Coping Mechanisms; Shy! Reader; Slow Burn; Coworkers to Friends to Lovers; Excessive Pining
Summary: Dove is tired of being stereotyped as the nice, quiet girl who's so innocent it hurts. So, who does she call to help her? Hangman.
PART 4 COMING SOON
One Shots
Wedding Day - Fem!Reader
Summary: Hangman falls in love with his wife all over again when he sees her in her wedding dress for the first time.
I'll Carry You - Fem!Reader (Wife!Reader)
Summary: Hangman and his wife attend a naval ball. When her shoes give her blisters, Hangman ensures that she gets back to the car comfortably.
Lunch Break [*] - Fem!Reader (Wife!Reader)
CW: Suggestive Situations/Content
Summary: Jake and his wife are going through a dry spell. Luckily, his secretary Linda is the best wingwoman in all of Miramar.
A Morning Work Out - Fem!Reader (Wife!Reader)
CW: Implied Sexual Content
Summary: Jake goes through his normal morning routine with his son and wife.
Beach Day - Fem!Reader (Wife!Reader)
CW: Referenced Sexual Innuedos/Situations
Summary: Jake and his wife enjoy a beach day with their three kids.
Stay Away from the Altar - Wife!Reader; Fem!Seresin!OC / Male!Bradshaw!OC
CW: (Over)protective Dad!Hangman; Angst; Fighting; Rebellious Teenagers; Crying; References to Previous Pregnancy Scares
Summary: Jake isn't ready to accept that his daughter is growing up. And he's definitely not ready to accept that his daughter seems to have fallen for Rooster's spawn.
A Little Tag-a-Long - Female!Reader (Peach)
Summary: Hangman is excited to finally take out Peach, the woman that he's been in love with for months now. Except Peach gets called into babysitting duty right before their date.
A Happy Fourth - Wife!Reader
CW: Implied Sexual Content; Outdoor Shower
Summary: You and Hangman enjoy your Fourth of July together.
Three Four, That’s the Magic Number - Wife!Reader
CW: (Unplanned) Pregnancy; (Failed) Vasectomies; Threats of Kicks to the Balls
Summary: You thought that three kids was it. But apparently your husband, Hangman, didn't have as successful of a vasectomy as you initially thought.
The Love Game - Fem!Reader (Glitch)
CW: Unrequited Love; Angst; Emotional Angst; One-Sided Relationship; ‘He’s in Love with Someone Else’ Trope
Summary: Glitch has been in love with Hangman for years but he’s getting married to another woman.
A.N. Multiple Pairings: Hangman/Glitch; Hangman/Fem!OC; Glitch /Mystery Dagger
Gray - Fem!Reader
CW: Jake’s Sad; Showering Together; Half-Naked Cuddling
Summary: You try to cheer your boyfriend Hangman up.
Little Seresin - Wife!Reader
Summary: You surprise your husband by putting your daughter in an opposing team's jersey.
#tgm masterlist#jake hangman seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin#top gun masterlist#top gun: maverick#top gun maverick#top gun#jake hangman seresin x you#jake hangman seresin x oc#k’s masterlist
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( 심재윤 ) RUN2U ( DISCONTINUED )
girl group member, Jia Y/N, became increasingly popular due to her self written song ‘RUN2U’ and blew up for months due to the addicting song that hit overseas and nationally. By the time she felt her song’s popularity decrease, she awoke to her name being trended on twitter with a familiar name next to hers. 𖦹꙳࡛࣪⋕ ˚.✦ ⵢ₊˚. 𖦹꙳࡛࣪⋕ ˚.✦ ⵢ₊˚.
📢 genre. . . . smau, fluff, romcom ˃ᴗ˂ ᵎᵎ
⭑⭒ pairing. . . . jake sim x reader
📢 warnings. . . . kys/kms jokes, mean jokes ˃ᴗ˂ ᵎᵎ
(˃̣̣̥ᴖ˂̣̣̥) starring. . . . kang lena as jia y/n, jake sim of enhypen, jia hanyou of boystory, ITZY, p1harmony, chan and felix of stray kids, enhypen, nct dream and more !!
PROFILES
ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ itZ me?! hype boyz ꪒ⑅ꪒ ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ y/ns paparazzi
CHAPTERS
‹3 001 ⩨ no fucking way
‹3 002 ⩨ hey stranger
‹3 003 ⩨ emo hours, dhmu
‹3 004 ⩨ choijia ?!
‹3 004 ⩨ evil jyp
(*´꒳`*) TAGLIST .. CLOSED !
#enhypen#enhypensmau#enhypen x reader#x reader#kpop x reader#keeho#boystory#jake x you#enhypen jake#jake sim#sim jaeyun#jake x reader#enhypen fluff#heesung#jungwon#niki#sunghoon#sunoo x reader#y/n#keeho x reader#p1harmony#rei ive#ive#wonyoung#added member#itzy#twice#kpop imagines#nct#nct dream x reader
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