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writingcold · 2 months

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Hi. Welcome to the opening chapter of CD&FE. My plan is to post Wednesdays. This is a complete story, so I will be faithful to this posting day.

Pairing: Jake X Female Reader

Summary: This is an AU that starts with the release of GVF’s first EP, Black Smoke Rising, and follows along life paths over the course of twenty years. Part One: Y/n is on the verge of a huge change - and on the cusp of a big night of celebration. The friends head out for the evening, starting with catching a band at a pub, to which the guitarist catches your attention.

Content warnings: Language, smoking, drinking, sexual situations, oral (m & f rec), anal play, protected sexual encounter.

Word Count: approx. 13K (probably the longest of the parts, promise, maybe)

A tremendously huge thank you to @edgingthedarkness and @takenbythemaddness for all of your help with this. You’ve both helped me to at least make it not a total shit show. This is my first full length reader insert, first person narrative, so please be kind and forgive any and all errors.

Celebratory Drinks and Fleeting Embraces, Part 1

I woke up feeling like I was roasting under the sun, only to find that I was lying in a furnace otherwise known as Patrick. He was curled around my body, his sour breath in my hair. My lip twisted as an ‘ew’ passed my lips. I slid from the bed of my oldest, dearest friend feeling my skin crawl with sibling residue grossness. I’d known him since we were in second grade. Patty was always the pretty one in our relationship, but I never could see beyond the awkward childhood and weird puberty phases that we shared, not to mention all the heartbreaks, highs, drunks, and learning that we survived together. We had tried to kiss way back in fifth grade - just to get that over with, but ew. No.

“Oh, come on,” his deep voice was still heavy with sleep, “I was enjoying that thick ass of yours, Y/n. Come on back and snuggle for a while.”

“Fuck you,” I grumbled as he laughed. “You promised me a record if I put up with your little dinner party last night. Why are you trying so hard to impress those pretentious idiots? They are not your tribe, Patty.”

I didn’t bother with modesty. The man was the first one to see me naked, and he looked at me like I was sheathed in 12” armor plating that was slathered with poison, set on fire with a NO GO ZONE etched across it. He was wrapped in goo and toxic sludge that kept me at bay. And that's how we liked it. I dug through my suitcase to drag out a cropped tee and cutoff shorts.

“I know,” he howled into his pillow. “I hate it. I do. But I’ve got to start making headway with this stupid job so I can get to the next step.”

I rolled my eyes as I started dressing. He slid his tall, rail thin body out of the sheets to reveal he was clad only in his boxer briefs. I frowned. “God damn it, you could’ve at least worn shorts when sleeping with me. I do not need to feel that beast under the hood.”

“Just because your last three guys didn’t have horse cocks, doesn’t mean you have to discriminate against mine, doll,” he teased as he started to fish out clothes for himself.

I rushed around him for the bathroom, bag in hand. Damn if I was going to have to wait for his ass to get through his thirty minute wake up routine in the only bathroom of the apartment. I heard his protest, but I knew that I’d be through in less than 15 minutes if left alone.

I emerged ready to his raised eyebrow and sideways grin. I pulled him down and kissed his cheek with a platonic whisper of love against his face before ducking into the kitchen. Visits to Ann Arbor were getting harder to make. I moved to Lansing right after graduating. Pat had remained behind, working on his master’s degree while toiling away in the university system as a TA. I finished my graduate work while killing myself on sixty hour work weeks and had earned a job in St. Paul that was to start in a week. Patty was the first one I called when I got the news. Not my family. Not other friends. It had to be Patrick because he had been the only one that could understand that I just needed someone to tell me I wasn’t nuts for trying this route in life. Everyone else either didn’t understand what I wanted to accomplish, or they simply said I would fail. Fuckers.

A tour through the kitchen revealed that he had purchased real food for my stay. With a chirp of happiness, I settled into a bright sounding playlist before making us a feast while he showered. By the time he was out, dried and all sorts of gorgeous, I had quite the meal prepared. He pecked me on the mouth and yanked me in a tight hug.

“Mornin’, punkin,” he cooed as I started to push him away.

We laughed over food. He did the dishes and we strolled out the door.

“Did you call everyone?” I asked as we walked from his apartment to the main drag of town.

“The only one not able to come is Aaron. Bitch couldn’t get out of work,” he answered, stopping to look into the window of a thrift boutique. “That skirt would make your legs look amazing. Y/n, my treat. Let me get you an outfit for tonight.”

“I’d rather have the record,” I grimaced and whined.

He screwed his mouth to the side with a diminutive grumble as I yanked him towards the music store. It was already early afternoon, and the place seemed swamped with people. I was never really one for big, chaotic crowds. The sight brought me up short for a moment, until Patrick steered me to the side door. I slipped inside, finding the crowd gathered more outside the building and a few at the front of the store, around the cashier. It would be okay - I could handle it.

Pat, of course, was totally the opposite of me. He glibly ran at any and all kinds of action, and this being no different, I lost sight of him almost immediately. I turned my attention to the bins and displays, allowing myself to relax despite the edge of activity that I was so desperately trying to ignore. Stoned Jesus was oozing through the air as I moved down towards the more vintage stuff, my eyes landing on a familiar cover. I reached for it just as sharp, overly feminine laughter struck my ears in the worst way.

“No, seriously,” a coarse velvet voice invaded my space while flirting with the girls. “You’ll be there right? Tonight? Come on. Come to our show…”

I looked up just in time to see two long haired men, one a few inches taller than the other, guiding two very blushed out girls that are probably just wrapping up their freshman year. The four were giggling and flirty and just way too loud. I tried to turn my attention back to the album I had between my fingers: Deep Purple’s debut album. One of the girls literally squealed as the two men played along with them - not in a weird way, but just that frat boy manner that demanded their attention. I watched as they walked with the girls to the door with flyers in their hands and huge smiles and promises of being out that night. The taller one actually did the little toodles wave as the other retreated quickly. I caught how he rolled his eyes as if disgusted with his own act. Those chocolate brown eyes landed on me and he immediately straightened up as if he was caught being out of character.

I looked back at the crowd in search of Patrick, but couldn’t find him anywhere. For a moment, my insides flared with panic. He was still there. He was amongst the twenty or so people that were packed into the front of the shop. I knew it, I just couldn’t tell the bubble of anxiousness that had attacked my stomach to back the fuck off. I took a breath before returning my gaze to the record in my hands.

“That is a fantastic album,” a smooth voice, with just a hint of rasp and Michigan sass filled my ears.

I turned to discover those lush, chocolate eyes were on me and he was standing at an arm's length away. I nodded and gave him a small grin. “Yeah. I have this at home, just not this edition,” I said before I set it back in the bin and turned away.

ELO’s “Evil Woman” started to leak from the speakers. I sighed upon hearing it - that over the top intro hit something just right, every time. I didn't expect the pretty eyed man to stick around, but when I reached for another cover, he watched for what I was reaching for.

“If you have another edition of that one,” he started with a knowing look, “that means that you have a Gatefold. The one from Germany, U.K…?”

I grinned wider as I really looked into his face. He was pretty. Between a subtle cleft to his chin and a set of full lips, his expression was warm and welcoming. There seemed to be a familiarity between him and the taller man, but he seemed to have a more mature quality to him that drew me in almost immediately.

“South Africa,” I answered, watching as his eyes glitter with respect.

“Nice,” he said, his voice soft and almost whispered.

I set the unseen album back in the bin, knowing it was shitty and not worth my time. I moved down the next row with him tailing behind. I saw him take interest in a blues album as I spotted another possibility - a Neil Young that had gotten damaged in my last move. I feel him, though he remains at a distance. He’s not much taller than myself, but perhaps it’s his personality, or just his presence, that makes him seem much bigger than he actually is. His hair is almost fluffy as it rests just below his shoulders. The tip of his nose was sharp and begging to be booped in the best way. His mouth was sinful and I know I stared at it way too long.

I tore my eyes away just as he looked up. I was sure he'd caught me looking, again. I couldn’t seem to help it. He was totally magnetic. His lips stretched into a smile - an honest smile, not like the production bull shit he had been feeding those college girls. I held my album up just to see his reaction, and was rewarded with a few hummed notes of a deep cut that I knew well.

“I guess I should ask about those flyers you’re tossing around,” I said, putting back the Young and turning towards him fully.

“We just released an EP,” he said, his attention on another album that was closer to my spot. He reached close to me, but then seemed to think the better of it. “We’re playing tonight at Paul’s Pub. You should come. I think you may like it.”

I pursed my lips with thought. We were no strangers to Paul’s. The bar was a staple in our group from the time we were all starting out in school. I nodded, and looked back in search of Patrick once more. I saw him emerge from the crowd, flier in hand and a look of wickedness in his eyes. I turned my attention back to him, taking note that he was fingering an Otis Redding album.

His attention was snapped to the front of the shop and I saw his shoulders slump a bit as he began to shift back into his work. “We’re third on the rotation. Will you be there - about 9:00?”

I shrugged as he started to move away. “We’ll have to see.”

I watched as his tight, dark wash skinny jeans walked away. I finally let out the breath that I had been holding just as Pat stepped close to me.

“He gives big dick vibes, doesn’t he?” he remarked as I leaned into him.

“God, you’re such an ass sometimes,” I scoffed just as I caught the man’s eye as he turned to look back at me over his shoulder.

“But I’m right,” Patty said quietly. “I guess we’ll be starting out at Paul’s tonight.”

I flashed him my biggest, gooeyest doe eyes possible. “Please??”

“Only if I can buy that outfit for you,” he replied, eyes narrowed down to slits. “No t-shirt and shitty jeans. You’re going out in proper attire for a proper fucking celebration!”

He talked me into the whole shebang. I marched into Paul’s on Patrick’s arm dressed in the skirt that fell just below the knee with a slit that reached all the way up to my hip bone. A loose, sleeveless poet shirt with a plunge neck with a shit ton of ruffles that billowed against my breasts made me feel more than whorish in a very pretty girl way. I had let my hair spill down my back, but pulled up the sides with a jeweled tie. I looked hot, and I knew it. I could feel it. But the moment that we reached the friends, I knew I was by far not the best looking in the room - that was reserved for Jordan with her raven black hair and crystal blue eyes and stupid perfect skin. I wasn’t even second in our group - second was Sidney with her perfect ash blonde locks that curled at the ends and her doe eyes that made anyone stop and stare. Bitches. But I loved them and knew most of it was a ruse because they had intelligence on their side - they just used their looks for good shit.

It had been months since I had seen the group. We took our time catching up as the crowd in Paul’s grew. The pub was old-school cool with its weathered wood and dark lighting, dark atmosphere, and dark decor. It was the largest of the bars that we would visit on the night, sporting a full stage and enough room to cram in close to two hundred and fifty patrons in the main space, while the patio could hold another hundred souls easily.

I noticed that the bar was getting crowded while the stage was being switched over. I glanced at my phone, but Patty grabbed my wrist in his grip with a hard glare.

“Better not be working,” he growled as took my phone away.

“Why are we even starting here anyway?” Joey whined as he was handing out glasses of beer. “We always start at Benny’s.”

“Oh,” Patrick chuckled. “There’s a guy Y/n wants to fuck in the next band.”

Suddenly, I had eight sets of eyeballs on me. I shrugged. “What?”

Everyone looked back at Pat and his wicked assed grin that he was beaming at me. “Come on, punkin. Just admit that you let me dress you all up because you’re looking to get-”

“HEY!” Sidney shoved him in the chest before my dearest friend on the planet could finish.

The group laughed and I just sipped at my lovely Tito’s + cranberry like I was the most virginal bitch on the planet. I watched as the tall one from earlier and another were setting up the drum kit – a white kit with a Greta Van Fleet emblazoned on the kick face. I caught Pat talking to the rest about meeting the dark haired one and said he was really quite cool. I turned my attention away from the stage and instead ventured into actual conversation with the friends. We were, after all, celebrating my accomplishment. I was going to be a graphic editor for an actual fucking company that was willing to bank on my skills, and pay me quite well. I was the first of the group to reach their goal. I was also the only one to actually be done with graduate school and had been working already for nearly 18 months in the real world. Of course, Sidney wasn’t having it, knowing right well that I was avoiding what Patty had started.

“Who’s the guy? What the hell does he play? Name?” she grilled across her bottle of beer.

“Pretty. Don’t know what he does in the band. Have no name.” I summed it up in three tiny sentences and a smile.

She looked at me like I had two heads until her eyes moved to the stage and latched onto the tall, lanky one. “Well, if he’s indicative of those two…”

I grinned and turned my attention back to the stage. He was the damn guitarist. He was plugging into the amp and storming his fingers across the frets. My eyes were instantly locked on him as he nodded to his bandmates as they all started to warm up. A fourth prowled between them all, mic in hand shouting a hearty “Good evening!” like it was a damn arena. I glanced at Pat and he just watched me with a grin and knowing nod. I whispered a fuck as I looked back at them. He was dressed all in black - black boots, black, skin tight jeans, black button up that was cropped at his tummy and buttoned only by one button. His chest was bare save a grouping of necklaces that bounced gently against the tanned skin. He was seductive to look at. I sipped at my drink as they slid into a song that made everyone stop what they were doing to take notice of the upstarts on stage. They had a swagger that made me smile wide. Fucker was right - I did like it by the end of the first song.

“Fucking Zeppelin wannabes,” Joe jabbed with a snarl.

I rolled my eyes. Figures. I knew from the gossip Patrick had told me, Joe was in the middle of a break up with a real twat. I could extend him some leeway, but only so far. Pat told him that the next round was on him, since the rest of the crew decided they liked the band. I was spellbound as they tore through their set. The whole pub was bouncing and just absorbing everything the band fed them. The band had something that was endearing, but was rooted in a raw talent that was very clear.

I felt the heat of the pub swell around me and the energy that was fostered by them was electric. They were fun. They were certainly sexy. The singer belted across the crowd effortlessly, hitting notes that sent shivers down the spine and elevated the soul a few notches. There was a guitar solo in every damn song, but he was masterful in how he baited the crowd and kept them with him as he sped through an effortless performance. The bassist was flawless as he strutted around like on a damn cloud. Mr. Shoulders at the kit would’ve grabbed my attention, but he oozed - for lack of a better way of saying it - big dick confidence, and it had me by the pussy.

I barely registered that Joe had taken my empty glass and replaced it with a new one. He scoffed but Patty just told him to fuck off. I was enraptured. It was like he was reaching through my body and taking everything from every cell in me, but filling it with something that just evoked absolute joy, tinged with a heavy dose of heathen thoughts that needed to be quelled. My core was quivering with need while my brain felt like it was on absolute fire with him.

“What the actual fuck was that?” Sidney remarked as the crowd cheered for more when their set was finished. “Just…”

I realized that most of the group was just as blown over as I was. I took a slow swallow of my drink, closing my ringing and pulsing ears as the friends started to debate our crawl for the night. I didn't care much - just as long as we had our time together. I was only here through tomorrow night before I had to head for St. Paul. I knew in the back of my brain, most of these people I would not see again. I needed to make it count.

Twenty minutes of bickering later, I grabbed Patrick by the collar and shouted over the din of people that I needed water and not to leave without me. He kissed my cheek with a promise to stay until I was back. Yeah. I totally believed that one, but I snaked my way through the crowd to the bar. It was insane that the energy of the show still flowed through the space, leaving the closing act to really bust balls to top their act. I stood patiently, one hand waiting on the bartop in order to keep my spot amongst those that had far less patience than me.

“Beers for the band!” one of the bartenders called out with a pointed finger a few spots down from me.

“Thanks man!” a familiar rasp struck my ear.

I turned to look over my shoulder to see him; hair plastered to his throat and damp with sweat, still in his show outfit, but his shirt is totally open. I can feel my chin dip as my eyes widen upon him. He wiped a towel across his brow before shoving it into his back pocket. The word ‘sexy’ was not strong enough to describe what he gave off at that moment. I am not ashamed that I had to wipe at my lip to keep the drool at bay. His sparkle filled eyes turned in my direction and paused for a moment until it changed to recognition that caught me by surprise.

“Deep Purple!” he called, his mouth parting in a smile that knotted my guts painfully. “Is that you?!”

I laughed as he had to go around like twenty people to move a few steps to meet me at my side. His eyes raked across my body, taking me in. I’m sure it was a far cry from the poorly cut off shorts and shitty top from earlier.

“It’s me,” I cooed as he reached my side.

For a moment, I lost myself in his gaze. I was instantly overwhelmed by his appeal. The spell was broken as the bartender set an icy bottle of water at my fingers along with change. He let out a soft laugh that almost seemed nervous.

“Did you catch the show?”

“I did. You were right - I liked it.”

He flashed a cocky smile as his eyes dipped to my outfit once more. “Celebrating?”

I nodded as I took a drink of water.

“Anything in particular?”

I can’t help the buzz of energy that hits me as I smile huge and trilled, “ME! We’re celebrating ME tonight.”

“Oh my,” he said, his tone dropping into a panty incinerating level. “Occasion?”

“New job, new life, new city, new everything,” I answered with a happy nod.

“Amazing…”

Patrick’s notification blared and my cheeks pink a bit as I fumbled for my phone. I uttered a sharp ‘Fuck’ as I see they’re at the door and needed to get my ass out of there or be left behind. “I gotta go,” I said, disappointment in my voice.

“Ah, don’t go…”

“Friends are heading to the next bar.”

“Are you crawling?” he asked, his hand on my arm to slow me down.

I nodded and turned away. Fuck them. Why do I have to go…? Did they not— Fuck. Sometimes I hate my cockblocking friends.

Marklowe’s Tiki Bar banked on its Carribbean themed décor and bright colors that splashed across the walls and floor to the huge tiki covered bar set a super loud atmosphere, while the ginormous umbrella drinks made for a good landing place to just be idiotic. I ground down on Patrick’s thigh to the worst manufactured music ever, but loved every moment of it. The friends were bouncing around like it was their last night on the planet. Because each drink was the size of four, and were the cost of six, we kept our time in the tiki to a minimum. Jordan dragged me to the ladies room while the others were finishing up their drinks. As I was fixing my lipstick, she was talking about the job that was drawing her away back home to Houston. I could hear her stress over leaving Sidney behind. She was trying to rationalize waiting a year for her closest friend to graduate. I knew it was just fear talking. She would take that job and do very well as she worked towards her goal of being a partner in her mother’s law firm. I watched as she pulled out her phone with a scoff.

“They are heading for the door,” she groaned. “Fuckers. It’s like they want to sprint across the district tonight.”

I was the first to push my way out of the restroom, only to stumble over my own toes in my rush, running right against someone. Looking up, I felt my face blush as I was met with the rich chocolate eyes of the guitarist. He helped me upright, moving me flush against his frame. His hands drifted down my arms as all I could do was stare at him as his smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

Just as Jordan’s hand wrapped around my wrist he asked, “Still having fun?”

I turned my body back towards his as Jordan started to drag me away. “Absolutely!” I called out.

I could not look away from the smirk that he shot me. Jordan gave me a look that could melt steel as we passed the bar in a near rush to catch up to the friends.

“Good god, girl! That’s the guitar player,” she said, unable to contain the bomb of her surprise.

I smiled wide as I looked back behind me once again, just able to see where he had been. “Pretty, right?”

Maxie’s Singing Bar continued the stupidity of the evening by adding karaoke to the mix. Patrick was insisting on singing with Sidney, so we waited. And waited more. I nestled into Patrick’s side, trying to avoid the barrage of questions about apartments, and the job, and ‘why the hell are you going to fucking St. Paul?’ I found myself being coy because, seriously? I was about to start getting some serious chops in my field, with a damn fine salary to boot.

“Come on, punkin. Let’s get another round of drinks,” Patrick replied as he slid out from the glittery plastic booth.

He held my hand all the way up to the bar. “You can’t let them get the better of you, Y/n,” he said as we waited. “They don’t get it. You’re the first one of us to grow the fuck up.”

The idea of being on a plan with one of those little paper bags shoved on my face was not appealing. I was silently begging for no hangover, despite the spin of alcohol in my veins. I just… Ugh. I spaced out as he ordered the round. My brain was fighting lists of stuff that I had packed weeks ago, along with movers and my parents flying in over the following weekend to ensure I was set up right. I desperately fought off the sudden urge to ask to leave. Patrick had asked to stop her when we were planning out the night. I knew it was probably the one time that he could cut loose with the ever lovely Sidney - the object of his eternal pining, although he would never openly admit it to anyone other than me.

I was startled as the bartender set a glass of ice water at my elbow. I smiled up at him. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

“You’re so old,” he teased as I batted my eyelashes at him.

“Why, just because I refuse to be sick off my ass tomorrow?” I asked before taking another drink.

He wrapped me up in a hug, holding onto me for a beat too long.

“Ugh, what the fuck is up with you tonight,” I scoffed as I made a face at him.

“What?” he asked, feigning innocence.

“You’re like extra touchy feely and shit.” I noticed his gaze turned to Sidney and it’s like watching all of that man’s insides turn to absolute goo. I sighed deeply. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, Patty.”

“Why the fuck not?” he asked, instantly defensive.

“I’m not telling you not to, just - she’s more focused than I am,” I reasoned, tracing figure 8s in the condensation on my glass. “You want way more than what she’s willing to give to anyone, including you, handsome.”

He didn’t say anything. I felt terrible as I realized I had just deflated him completely. I threaded my fingers through his and gave him a little squeeze.

“Maybe I just need to take what I can to get the fuck over it,” he said directly in my ear, the heat of his body matching the pain in his words.

“You’re better than that, dick,” I grumbled just as a bartender started to put up our order.

“Patty!” Sidney called as she strutted towards the stage and mics.

It was a rare moment of stillness that my dearest friend handed to me. My heart broke for him.

He nodded as he reached for a shot that had been set before him and downed it. “Love you. You got all this?”

I watched as he strolled towards her, putting back his persona on like it was his armor. Looking back at the bartop, I groaned. “No, I don’t got this, fucker.”

I tried to get Jordan’s attention, but she was too far up Joe’s ass to bother looking at me waving like a lunatic. As I’m turning back to the bar to see if I can spy a tray, my eyes caught on the front door as the guitarist and his group walked in. I froze, taking in what he was wearing - the dark washed skinny jeans, boots and a chopped dark red t-shirt. His wrists were filled with bracelets and there’s a long necklace that falls just below his pecks. A soft breath escapes me as his eyes seem to lock right on mine and the cocky smile greets me. I had no way to actually run, and could only watch as he approached, all full of swagger.

“Okay, third run in; time for introductions. I’m Jake,” he said as he approached, hand out as if he’s going to shake my hand formally.

“Well, counting the record store, it’s the fourth run in,” I remarked with a grin before I gave him my name and my hand.

Instead of shaking it, however, he turned his palm up, passing the pad of his thumb across my knuckles as he leans in against the bar. He had me so distracted that I did not see Pat reach across my blindside for his and Sidney’s drinks.

“We’re up!” he nearly squealed, retreating quickly.

“Make it super slutty!” I shouted after him.

Suddenly, because of the shift, I came up nose to nose with the newly introduced Jake. He tried to back up, but was trapped. I tried to move back, but there was nowhere to go either. A deep blush swept across my face as he let out a gentle laugh over our dilemma. I instantly breathed him in - all tobacco, sandalwood, lavender and him. His hands caught my arms to steady me and I let out a nervous giggle. A fucking giggle. As if it couldn’t get worse - it did. Patrick and Sidney started belting out “Love in an Elevator” in the most sleazy manner possible. I let out an absolute cackle before I could catch myself.

Jake’s eyes popped wide as he took in the scene unfolding behind me and I can only assume Patrick took my ‘slutty’ suggestion to the absolute max. I looked over my shoulder to find the pair grinding against each other in a nearly illegal manner.

“Oh my god,” I breathed, instantly trying to delete the sight from my eyes. I reached for the closest drink and took it down as fast as I could, only to find that it was my water. “Fucking figures.”

I regrouped and grabbed my beer and took a long, soothing swallow. He was watching me fumble the entire time, a smirk plastered on his mouth and those damn eyes just full of heat. “Sorry, that whore friend of mine is under the impression he needs to blow my life up at any given moment of every damn day.”

As if she knew that he was close, Jordan magically realized that I needed help with the drinks. I was shifting glasses around to make room for Jake’s order of beers and tequila shots as she sauntered up, tits out and hips swaying like she’s walking down a catwalk.

“That’s all right,” Jake replies, downing a shot with barely a grimace. “I’ve got three like that myself. At least you’re not related to any of them like I am.”

My brow furrowed as I set my beer down. “I was not getting Jonas Brothers vibes from you guys.”

His laugh was warm and inviting. “Damn, I hope not.”

“Hey-” Jordan called, leaning in close. “I’ll take what I can.”

I started handing over drinks, trying not to notice that she was trying to flash her amazing cleavage as she bent slightly into Jake. I couldn’t help the smug feeling when I realized that his eyes were either directly on me, or his own beer. She tapped the side of my foot before she made her way back to the table.

“Rude to keep us waiting, Jacob.” Another set of hands were reaching across his chest.

It was then that I noticed the similar ridge of cheekbones, the jawline, the mouth… I looked back at Jake and he must’ve seen what I found confusing.

“Twin,” he said with a little eye roll.

“Identical,” the other said with a little huff. “Hi, I’m Josh.”

My eyebrows shot up as the brother started walking off towards their table. “So not Jonas Brothers, but The Proclaimers?”

“Oh fuck no,” he laughed before taking another drink of his beer. “Are they supposed to be doing that?”

It was at that second that I realized Sidney and Patrick are no longer singing. I lock on Jake’s eyes and freeze. “I don’t know if I want to know…”

Why had I looked back at the stage? Why did I have to be a witness to such an event? I wanted nothing more than to grab hold of the cheapest bottle of behind the bar and douse my eyeballs with it.

“Ew,” I flinched as I turned back towards the guitarist, finding the space even more crammed and my hands were now on his very nice, very firm chest. I looked up into his face and he had this endearing look like he’s about to… Yup, he graciously wrapped a hand around my hip holding me close. My brain was just on the verge of rupture when I heard Jordan chirping about what was happening before them.

“I take it that’s not a good thing,” he whispered against my ear.

“Not really, no,” I sighed, nearly against his mouth as his lips part.

I wanted to fall into his mouth and lose myself in his touch. I was so damn close until I saw Jordan and Sidney fly out past us and the rest of the group straggling behind. I looked behind me and found a very upset Patrick, collecting their glasses and heading for the bar. I watched as he set the glasses down on the bartop and headed towards the door without a look at me.

“I fucking hate drama,” I sighed.

His hand tightened on my hip, bringing my attention back to him. I looked into his handsome face and smiled sadly. I puffed my cheeks out and shook my head.

“Just when this was getting interesting,” I replied, drawing a little squiggle against the skin just under his collar bone. “I better catch up with them.”

“You want me to -”

“Naw,” I said as I finally stepped away from him, instantly regretting the distance. “This is probably gonna get messy.”

“Maybe I’ll see you again,” he said with a soft grin.

I shyly tucked a hair behind my ear. “I hope so.”

I didn’t bother with a fast walk to try to catch up with them. Patrick was waiting just outside the door, smoke in hand and a mournful look etched across his features.

“What the hell, Patrick?” I scolded as I stole his smoke for a drag.

“Fucking Jordan,” he grumbled, rubbing his hands across his face. “Why would she do that?”

“I don’t know, Pat - maybe because you two fucked way back when…”

“Maybe. That was a ‘maybe’. We have no idea if we did or not.”

“If you wake up naked by each other, it’s pretty likely you did, you whore.”

I couldn’t stop my anger at that moment. The night was supposed to be about the friends - it was supposed to celebrate me getting the fucking job that I had dreamed about; the job I had worked my ass off for. I did not hide my disappointment.

“They just went into Benny’s,” I said, seeing Joe waving at us from the corner.

“I don’t want to be there,” he said quietly.

I rolled my eyes like a bad friend. It wasn’t even Sidney that put him off. She was… I didn’t really want to even think about it. He knew - Pat had to know that it would be short term. I just didn’t even want to broach that possibility. Was he willing to hurt himself just to say he had some time with her? That just broke my heart a little more for him.

“Fine. How about we get some coffee and sit out Benny’s,” I suggested, tugging on his sleeve. “Come on. My treat.”

I sat with my dearest friend on the planet as he processed what had happened. I listened to him as he knew - he just knew that it would be better to know than to always wonder. It wasn’t like she was plastered out of her mind. She had actually leaned in first and he just couldn’t stop the moment she touched him.

“It will never be what you want it to be,” I said quietly, holding the cup tight. “Sid has such an entrenched idea of what she wants to do, Patty. She hasn’t had anyone with any permanence ever. What you have to offer, alluring as it is, it’s not what she’s looking for. At least not right now.”

He let out a long breath. “I love the way she fucking tastes. How can I-”

“Stop.”

He nodded, getting my drift. He fiddled with the handle of his empty mug. I could feel him returning to normal, even though I knew he was hurting. I reached across the table and took his hand in mine to give a little squeeze.

I flipped my phone over to discover that Joe had sent a text that they were moving onto the pool hall. I loved playing pool. I sucked at playing pool, but I loved playing it. I put on my doe eyes with every intention of yanking my friend along with me if I had to. He smiled and seemed to find his resolve. We walked hand in hand to the end of the drag, finding everyone seemed to have the same idea. The pool hall was packed and I knew it was going to be impossible to get a table. Joe shouted out from a high top table that they had crowded around.

I saw Jordan and Sidney were already at the bar. I texted Sid our arrival and kept my eyes on her when she looked at her phone. Her eyes immediately move over to us, specifically Patrick. Hmm. Interesting. Perhaps her lack of steady company was not necessarily due to a singular focus on finishing college with a 4.0. What more, Pat’s gaze on her and it just feels - good. I smiled as Joe offered me his seat in order to stand. His voice was loud and liquor happy. No doubt he would be sobbing about the ex soon enough.

We fell into being normal once again. Jordan and Sidney returned with the round and we got back to our celebratory vibe. My ear caught the music across the room - someone had actually taken time to curate something good from the jukebox as some more obscure Black Sabbath worked across the din of the packed house. I sipped at my Tito’s + cranberry, trying to pay attention to those with me instead of the idea of being rudely interrupted from having time with the luscious Jake. The frustration of it made me squeeze my thighs just a bit as my long neglected core wept for attention.

We must’ve been in the hall for about an hour when we started getting antsy. No tables were opening up - at all. Sidney was leaning into Patrick’s shoulder and their hands were tightly together. Jordan was talking rapidly, Joe had his eyes on the ceiling. Things felt like they would spiral out of control at any moment.

“Hey, Y/n - isn’t that guy in that other guy’s band?” Sidney asked, her brows raised like she was trying hard to put her thoughts together. “I mean, isn’t that the singer of that band?”

I followed where she’s pointing, and sure enough, there was Josh with the tall drummer right behind him, carrying a couple of empty pitchers. I felt a little stutter in my chest as I looked around the room.

“Hey, punkin,” Patrick called to me, capturing my attention once more. “Help me at the bar, yeah?”

I knew what he was doing. Fucker. I slid out of the tall chair and held his hand as we made our way out for another round. I couldn’t help the little flutter of possibility that Jake would be in the room somewhere. If his hands on me earlier was an indicator, I had a glimmer of a chance of something to finish out the celebration - maybe? Patty got us to the bar, close enough to the two but far enough away to not appear like I was trolling them or anything weird like that.

We watched as the bartenders flew around that bar space. They were beyond busy. From the corner of my eye, I saw that Josh and the drummer were reaching for fresh pitchers. Just as they were moving away, Josh stopped.

“Shit come on,” I heard him say sharply. “You can’t stay just a little longer?”

I turned to look at the pair to see Jake had joined them. Was he leaving? Fuck. No. Okay. I could be totally smooth about this, right? Pat was leaned over the bar to give our order and was totally unaware of my awkwardness to give me any help at all. I was a big girl. I could do this. Just one foot in front of the other. Just move the damn feet…

I ducked in between the crowd and started in his general direction, hoping that he’d catch my eye before I’m right on top of them. Just as I was about to chicken out, those searing brown eyes touched my face and stopped. The other two glanced over and Josh patted Jake's chest before walking away with beer filled pitchers towards the pool tables.

“Fifth time charm?” he asked as he closed the space. “Drama over? You look to have survived.”

I smiled wide as he drew so close I could breathe him in. My brain caught fire with all of him as he reached out, his fingers brushed against my arm until he took my hand in his. “Yes,” I answered, trying not to shout over the loudness of the space. “Drama over. Last stop of the night, but we’ve already been waiting on a table for over an hour.”

“We’ve got a table,” he said, brows pulling together as he looked back in the direction of the far back corner. “We don’t mind sharing. Wanna join in?”

I glanced around at Pat at the bar and the friends at the high top. Just to get away from the crowded singular table would be nice. I see Patrick step away from the bar with another pitcher and in need of help with glasses held in his paw of a hand. I raise a finger to Jake and try to help the best I can.

“Oh, look who you found,” he remarked as Jake moved towards us.

“We’ve got a table. Tell this friend of yours we are more than happy to share,” Jake said, taking a couple of the drinks from Pat.

“Yeah, friend. If he wants to share and all…”

Jake tightened his hold on my hand with a little tug, as if I would say ‘no’. Jake took off in one direction, Pat in the other to retrieve the group. I’m being guided along, eyes planted on the ass encased in denim that leaves me knowing that I’m a terrible person for the thoughts that are suddenly raging through my skull. The man’s thighs were making me drool as he turned to the side to slide between people, making sure that I was still with him, even though he held my hand tight. I grinned at him, careful not to drop my own drink as we bobbled through the crowd.

Their table was at the very back of the pool hall - the farthest from the bar, but took advantage of a bartop that followed the corner and provided plenty of space to accommodate everyone. I quietly hoped that Joey would be polite and keep his sour take on their music to himself. Patrick was in the lead with the others trailing behind. Introductions were fast, with Sam and Josh and Danny blending in right away. A new game was racked and underway within moments. I stood to the side, watching Pat and Sidney on the other side of the table just stay close to each other. There was a vibe there that was hard to not see.

“After that last place, I thought for sure my chance was used up,” Jake remarked, eyes on me with a smile in place. “Looks like whatever drama there was, love prevailed, huh?”

I felt my smile spread as I tilted my head. It was hard not to feel a bit squishy over how he put the soon to be very brief love affair between friends. “Yeah,” I said quietly. “For now at least.”

It was just fun to drink and play pool and be stupid with these four men. Jake and Pat teamed up against Sidney and Joey. I sat back as I watched that man look very sexy sprawled on the pool table, ass and thighs on display and I just couldn’t look away. And he knew it. He so knew that I was blazing holes into his flesh with my eyes in the most disrespectful manner possible. What more, the way his eyes passed across my skin etched paths that I so wanted him to explore.

The next game, Jake was looped into playing with Sam against Jordan and Joe. Pat asked me to join him for a smoke, and the guitarist watched as I blew him a kiss and followed my friend. The clock was edging closer to two as he handed me a cigarette and waited for me to light it.

“That man wants to tear you up, love,” he said calmly, with a face that fought to keep straight. “I think I’ve lost count how many times Jordan has tried to get his attention, but he only has eyes for you, Y/n.”

I got a grin that I cannot hide, so I don’t bother. I let out a tight breath before taking a long drag. “Yeah and you and Sid are looking pretty damn cozy.”

“It just feels good,” he replied, eyes falling down on the sidewalk.

“You’re going to have to have a serious conversation before you lose in this, Patrick,” I said firmly. “I won’t be here to pick up your pieces. I can’t handle thinking that you’re hurting on your own.”

“I know. You’re right.”

I flipped my hair over my shoulder as a warm summer breeze struck my frame. I was going to miss it in Ann Arbor. I had been missing it terribly, already. Lansing was… well. It was Lansing.

“So, what are you going to do? I don’t think I can watch you flirt with that man without any kind of outcome,” he said with a silly grin. “I mean it’s so obvious he’s interested.”

I shrugged. “Not sure.”

“Bull shit.”

I looked up at my friend, finding support. He’d never judge me for what I wanted to do, even if it were to be a one night stand with the most gorgeous man. Hell, even if that man was okay looking, I could count on Pat to just respect the fact I was doing something to make myself happy.

“Look, if I were you - hell, if you don’t, maybe I will - but,” he started, letting out a laugh that filled me with confidence, “I think you need to march that ass in there and tell that man exactly what you want from him and see what happens. I bet you he runs you out of here in ten seconds flat.”

I rolled my eyes and took the last drag of my smoke. Following Patty back inside, I was trying to think about how to sugar coat what I was going to say to Jake. By the time we got all the way to the back of the room, and my eyes fell onto him leaned up against the bartop, feet crossed at the ankles, face relaxed, eyes on fire, I just knew I needed to be as direct as possible. I walked right up to him and he slid a hand across the small of my back as I leaned against his body. I stared into his eyes, finding them welcoming. His lips parted as I brush mine against his as I push past to land next to his ear.

“I’m getting my ass out of here - new town, new life,” I whispered, fighting the urge to lap at his earlobe. “Will you be the end of my night? Help me celebrate?”

I feel his body shift fractionally as he brings his other hand up to rest between my shoulder blades, nearly locking me in place against him. Our mouths were not touching anything, but just passing along as if mapping out where to kiss, where to taste, where to… His tongue passed across his bottom lip as he stood up fully, threading his fingers with mine.

“Danny,” he called out. “You’re good bunking with them other two?”

He didn’t even wait for an answer, just started walking out with me in tow. I could hear Patty’s cackle behind us. The exhilaration that had begun to pump through my chest nearly made me choke. We reached outside and he paused, eyes trailing up and down the street.

“Where are you staying?” I asked as we started to cross the street.

He points at an older hotel that is just down the way and I am thankful I will not have to wait too much longer. He held the door open for me and we crossed the abandoned lobby towards the elevator. After a minute of waiting, he shook his head, the tell of his own impatience. He chuckled as he spun us to the stairs.

“I’m just on the second floor anyway,” he said, once again holding the door for me.

Before my foot landed on the stair, he held me back, turning me to face him. God, he was pretty as he crashed into me, his mouth hard as he nearly consumed me in our kiss. Our hands were everywhere all at once as we fumbled up the stairs. I gasped as my back met the wall at the landing. His hands were on my face and in my hair and on my hips, and on my… FUCK this man seemed to be as thirsty for touch as I was. His mouth on my throat made me moan a bit too loud. It was enough to make us move up the stairs once more, but two steps up, we were searching for touch again. I nearly tumbled as I yanked him towards me so I could start to rip at his belt. He caught me, crashing his mouth into mine, fingers pressed into my hair with a soft groan as I released the leather bind of his jeans.

There was no hiding intent. We banged down the hall, bumping into walls, furniture; unable to break from each other’s touch. He held me close as he slid the key card into the room’s lock. I sucked on his ear lobe, laughing as he couldn’t get the timing right to push down the door handle when the lock unlatched. It took two tries before he finally grumbled and had to push me back just a bit to get us inside.

The room was not remarkable, even though the only thing in my head was him. His fingers caught the slit of the skirt and tucked inside as I feasted on his tongue. He barely brushed the boyshorts I was wearing and growled wickedly when he found I was drenched through the cotton of the garment.

“Ready for this, aren’t you?” he asked as I nearly ripped off his shirt to reveal miles of his skin for me to mark and explore.

“Honestly, if you don’t get that monster in you pants in me right now, I may have to-”

He grabbed my hips and spun my ass around and bent me over the desk chair, forcing my hands down onto the seat. “You think I’ve got a monster dick?”

I whined a bit as he jacked up my skirt and slid down my panties, giving me a hearty pinch across my bottom. He was humming as he planted a kiss directly on the dip of the small of my back. I felt him lean back and hear the tear of something. I looked back to see him taking out a condom and rolling across what I had suspected all along - fucking monster sized cock was about to send me into orbit.

“Like that, do you?” he asked, voice husky as he rolled the latex across his length. “Big enough?”

I didn’t hide it, I licked the drool from the corner of my mouth with a pitiful moan. “You gonna fuck me good with that, aren’t you…”

A sound between a moan and a chirp pounds itself from my throat as he lines himself up against me. “Be a good girl now. This is all for you.”

He had me clenching around him on the first thrust. He was playing me like his cherry red guitar, eliciting sounds from me that I had never made before. The stretch and sting was top tier as he set a pace that was like one of his guitar solos. He had one hand on my clit while the other pressed against my spine, dipping under the thin fabric of my shirt and pushing it up, as if relishing each bump and twist of my bones until my shirt was pushed up and over my head to pool at my wrists. I was full on panting as he stood me up, still buried deep within me. I shoved the chair aside as he bit into my ear and throat. I was pressed to the desk, cheek down on the laminate with my feet kicked wide so he could have even better access to my pussy. He brought one hand down to palm my ass and he ruthlessly pinched at my breast as he plowed forward. I looked back at him to find his eyes hard on me, his mouth open with a feral breath.

“I will suck that cock tonight,” I demanded, pushing my ass back on him.

“Holy fuck you will,” he concurred, digging his hands into my hips.

He reached out, taking hold of my shoulder, slowing down to press into me so deep I thought for sure he would split me in half. My face fell forward as I sighed over the new rhythm. My skin became drenched in flame as he bent over me, lips on my bare shoulder.

“Cum hard, pretty girl,” he whispered before he flicked my earlobe with his tongue.

My chest exploded as I collapsed forward fully on the desk as I sprayed my climax out onto him. He let out a low groan as he came right after, pulsing into me a few more times before coming to a stop. We both struggled to catch our breath. He twitched and shuttered before he gently pulled himself from me. His palm came down on my back with a whispered ‘stay here’.

By the time he returned, my breathing had gone from ‘holy shit I can’t breathe’ down to ‘I just finished power walking after that lush ass, sir’.

“This is going to be a little cold,” he said before pressing a washcloth against my swollen cunt. I barely flinched as he cleaned me up gently. I started to reach for my panties, but he stopped me. “I’m not done celebrating yet. Are you?”

I grinned as he shyly pressed a kiss to my forehead. I watched as he moved back to the bathroom to clean up further.

“Why don’t you get out of that skirt and meet me on the bed, Y/n,” he said when the water was turned off.

“Which one is yours?” I asked as I draped my clothes over the chair.

“Uh…” He strolled out of the bathroom, his own clothes over his arm, his cock flaccid but still impressive against his thigh. He tossed his clothes on top of the now forgotten desk and steered me towards the bed by the window. He pressed every inch of skin to mine as he kissed me, backing me up until we both fell onto the mattress.

To say we made out is an understatement. I lost myself in his touch: his mouth, his hands, fuck his body. Every press against me made me quiver with anticipation.

“So,” he said in between kisses to my mouth. “New city?”

“St. Paul,” I answered before dragging his lip in between my teeth.

“Job?”

“I’m joining a graphic arts company who contracts with venues for entertainment and corporate events,” I said quietly.

He paused and looked me in my face. “I wouldn’t even know what you do, but it sounds like you’re going to work with the big talent in my field.”

I shrugged. “I will sometimes.”

He kissed me hard once more, his hands sliding down my back. I threaded my fingers in his hair as he kissed down my body. I was already flooding between my thighs as he parted them to make room for himself. He passed a callused finger across the stripe of downy curls, planting kisses to my hip and the top of my thigh.

“I wasn’t planning on being close up ready,” I whisper, blushing over the idea that I had not totally groomed down there for the night. “Sorry…”

He hummed, kissing down in between the curls. “I like it,” he sighed as he breathed in.

I watched as he placed a chaste kiss to each side of where my thighs met my labia. I sucked in a breath as he brushed his lips against the delicate skin, his nose ghosting over the hair. He smiled wickedly as he tongued my clit after pressing me open for his whim. He rolled his eyes up on me, taking in how my breasts bounced a bit as my breath came a little faster. He made eye contact as he sucked me in, circling my nub as he did so. I squeaked. I fucking squeaked and I am not ashamed that I squeaked. He settled in and I had the bed cover knotted in my hand on the right, and tugging at his hair on the left. He blew across the curls before rising up a bit, taking a moment to really look across my body. I felt like a beautiful mess that he was laying claim to.

“Good?” Jake asked, leaning his head against my thigh.

“Yes,” I sighed, unclenching my fingers against his scalp. “So good.”

The corner of his mouth tugged before he lowered down, sliding in one finger as he pushed his tongue against my entrance. I released a gasp as he went into work. My words got filthier the longer he worked my pussy. He hummed, cooed, whispered against my flesh and I begged him for more. I will not say that he was edging, but he would bring me to a high, only to gently let me down a bit before taking me higher than before. It was a beautiful thing that this man was doing to me - it was worship and I accepted it wholeheartedly.

“How about we shift to 69?” I asked as he licked my slit.

He grinned as he pulled himself up and turned around to slide his arms under my thighs to yank me wide open for him. I rolled his balls between my fingers as I nibbled on his thick tip before sinking him down my throat in a hard thrust.

“Holy fuck,” he gasped, as I tugged him while hollowing out my cheeks to let him go with a pop.

“Good?” I asked, trying to look around the heavy cock that was immediately growing hard against my hold.

He nodded as he watched me do it all again. I raised an eyebrow at him before I let him go again.

“I need your words, cupcake,” I said with sass in my tone.

“You’re going to fucking kill me, aren’t you, Y/n?” he muttered before pushing two fingers deep inside me with a firm curl to make me buck my hips.

“No more than what you are doing to me,” I gurgled the words before I began to love on him.

The sounds I was able to draw out of him pulsed into my core and radiated up through my entire body. Fuck this man was better than the little deaths he shot through me. I drew his balls down before tucking a finger to the space behind them. He jolted against me before settling back down. I sucked him down hard before pressing into the spot again with purpose. He let out a startled moan. I let him fall out of my mouth, giving the base of his length little kitten licks to soothe him for a moment.

“Don’t tell me no one has ever done this for you?” I whispered, looking through my own tits at him.

“No,” he said quietly.

“I can reward you so good for the head you just gave me,” I said gently, tickling my finger across the space once more. “But only if you want me to, Jake.”

He lifts his frame a bit higher to come to rest his forehead on my pubic bone. “You’d do that?”

“Oh hell yes,” I answered with a confident smile. “But only if you want it.”

His eyes narrowed a bit, watching as I continued to lick and lap at his shaft and base. His breath was spiking with anticipation as he licked at his lips. “Do it,” he said, his voice filled with rasp.

I took him back into my mouth hard, plunging him in and out quickly to cause the spit to build on my tongue. He’s grinding into me until I hold his hips still, letting him fall from my lips and I scoot back a bit to spit into his already spread cheeks. He gasped out a string of curses as I swirled my middle finger into his velvet. I planted kisses to his thigh as I pumped his cock the best I can at the weird angle. I watched his face as he relaxed, allowing me to sink my finger in slowly. His jaw dropped as I blew across his balls. He groaned as his cheek came back down on my thigh. Both hands were gripping the bed cover tightly. His eyes were shimmering with pleasure as I began to stroke in and out. He sounded beautiful as I tried to see his face, but he’s angled so that I really couldn’t see him, like he was afraid he was going to crush me if he laid down flat.

“Jake?” I asked, before pooling more spit in my mouth to blow it to his hole for more lube.

“Oh my ever loving fuck…” he ground out.

I grinned before I leaned in a fraction, just close enough to lick at the base and his balls once more. Suddenly, he came all over my chest - hard and loud. In his surprise, he lifted himself, my finger still deep within him as if he just realized what had happened. I withdrew and he hissed as he climbed away, cheeks blazing red.

“Jake?” I asked, afraid to move for fear of making a mess.

“Just stay right there,” he said loudly. “I’ll be right back!”

I heard the water at the sink turn on and him deep breathing like he was in a panic. He kept repeating himself, “Come on, come on, come on, come on…”

I awkwardly crossed my legs and tried to be modest, but it was rather difficult with cum that was pooling and dripping off my chest. He rushed back, and I could see he was absolutely flustered and more than a little embarrassed.

“Hey,” I said gently, trying to get his attention as he began to wipe at the mess.

“Oh my god,” he sighed as his cheeks reddened all the more. “I’m so sorry I did that. I - fuck…”

“Hey, Jake,” I repeated, reaching out and touching his arm to stop him. “Why would you be sorry for that? That was something beautiful.”

“Well I fucking cummed on your tits like a two pump chump, Y/n,” he remarked as he went back to wiping me off. “What the hell…”

“No,” I said, catching his hand once again. “Did it feel good?”

“Well, obviously,” he said sharply. “Maybe a little too good.”

“No one’s done that for you. You didn’t know what to expect. Did you like it?”

He stood up as I took his hand. Finally, he made eye contact and the redness of his cheeks began to fade. It was like he was realizing that I was not scolding him for cumming so fast. He grinned before setting back into wiping himself off me.

“I liked it,” he admitted. “I’m pissed that I couldn’t hold on for more.”

I watched as he finished his part and I pushed myself up on my elbows. “Well, is the celebration done yet?”

He laughed. Like threw his head back and laughed as I used his words. He shook his head. He said he’d be right back and took off back towards the bathroom. I will admit, watching that ass sway was a sight to behold. He returned with a couple bottles of water. He opened one before handing it to me.

I waited for him to settle in up against the headboard to lay back against him. I listened to him breathing for a long while. He drew little pictures into my arm as we just collected ourselves and the time we have shared. I was nearly on the verge of dozing when he shifted, drawing my attention back to him.

“I want to make out more,” he whispered against my mouth. “It’s like I can’t get enough of you.”

It’s my turn to laugh a bit. I kissed him deeply before heading to the bathroom for a moment. I took my time in cleaning myself up. I swore I could still feel the heat of his mouth against my skin. It made me smile as I made my way back to him. I paused, finding him sitting up against the headboard, eyes closed and fully relaxed. He was really breathtakingly handsome. He took his hand from his hair that he had been holding and it swished down around his shoulders. He held his hand out for me to join him and I slid in. He rolled me onto my back and brushed my hair back away from my face.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispered before placing a soft kiss to the corner of my mouth.

His body flooded me with warmth and need once more. This kiss was slow and unhurried. We trailed caresses across each other as if relishing the moment so as to not forget it. We were literally moving in two opposite directions - no matter what. This was going to be it, and it was like we were both very aware of that fact. I knew I was just going to enjoy my time in this man’s hands for as long as I could. I rose up against his side, allowing him to wrap his arms around me to bring me in flush. I absorbed his body heat as he stuck his tongue deep within me. I could get used to the way this man kissed me. Damn.

I straddled his middle and brought myself up enough for him to drag those magical fingers back through me once more. Jake hooked his arms under mine and rose up to flip me back so that I was back on my back.

“Hold on,” he replied as he slid off the bed and went to a duffle bag. He returned, tearing open a condom. His eyes flicked to mine as he set the open package on the nightstand. “Sorry. Just needed one of those things.”

“Thank you,” I said as he sunk down against me with a searing kiss.

It did not take long for him to have me panting once more. He tugged and sucked at my breasts. He pushed my legs wide and placed my hands on my knees to hold close to my sides. I watched as he quickly rolled the thin piece of latex onto his shaft, all the while, he encouraged me to keep myself going. He gave a little laugh as he lifted my hips and slowly entered me. We moaned in unison. My head fell back, chin pointed at the ceiling. He was inching in and out, ensuring every point within me was being stimulated. He would pause, buried so deep and give his hips a little grind to make me whimper with joy. He watched my face so closely, so attentively that I wanted to weep. Each strike he soothed and kissed at my skin, soaking me and wringing me out like I was his doll.

He gathered my body up and held on to me tight as he began to move with purpose. I took his place in grinding against him, staying with his body each time he withdrew only to return with force. I held onto him with all that I had. I knew my sounds were filling the air all around us, mixing and melting with his own. It was beautiful and fleeting and mind altering as he fucked into me. I lowered my hand, grabbing his hand firmly and he sucked a deep breath.

“Try that again?” I whispered my question with his face buried in my neck.

“Yes…” he answered back, scraping his teeth against my shoulder.

I pushed my thumb into my mouth, putting as much slick as possible onto it. I pushed on his thigh to get him to open a bit more as he continued to work me. Gently, I pressed the tip of my thumb against his entrance once more. He groaned and I paused, just giving him a little swirl, a little time to adjust to my touch. He whispered he was ready and I pressed as he buried himself to his hilt. We gasped out over the sensation. I had no intention of giving traction to my touch, just to give him this bit. I hooked my digit back and forth, turned it back and forth as he fucked into me harder. I could feel my body tightening, sprinting towards my high. I looked up at him. Sweat formed on his brow as his teeth were sunk into his bottom lip. I was struck by his absolute beauty and nearly cried out because of it.

He looked me right in the eye and slammed into me. I gasped out. I couldn’t hold out any longer. He repeated the move until I was near screaming his name with my thumb in his ass. Satisfied that he had gotten to me, he dropped his chin to his chest and ground into me hard until he came hard. I let my hand drift back to my side. He held tight, planting little kisses across my collar bones. I wiped his hair back from his forehead, trying hard to catch my breath once more.

“Fuck I don’t want to move,” I sighed as he kissed the top of each breast.

“I got it,” he said softly, letting me go.

He stopped and grabbed his boxer briefs on his way to the bathroom this time. I held myself steady as he cleaned himself up before coming back with a fresh wash cloth. He started to wipe me up, but I took over, sitting up and heading towards the bathroom. I took hold of my clothes and shut the door behind me.

I looked fucked out. It was the only thought that struck me as I glanced in the mirror before I sat to pee. That man had just fucked me and I admit I loved every moment of it. I could smell him on my skin. I could feel his heat still in my skin. I wiped up and put myself slowly back together. I gathered my hair up into a messy ponytail and tied it up with the flimsy jeweled tie. I washed most of the smeared makeup off and stood back with glimpses of the memory of what had just happened dancing through my thoughts.

I stepped out of the bathroom to find him scrolling through his phone, the pile of his clothes next to him. He looked up with a sleepy grin.

“I have bus call in about ninety minutes,” he said as he stood up. “Everyone is meeting downstairs at six to head out. There’s a diner that’s open. You want some breakfast? I have a bit of time.”

I shrug as I reach for my own bag. “Maybe.”

I caught sight of myself once more in the mirror over the desk. Fuck. I had never done something like this before. Short term, benefits only hook ups, sure. But one night stands with essentially a stranger? Never. A bubble of panic formed in my chest over not knowing how to handle the situation. But it’s exactly what I wanted from him. One night. A night of celebration. He ducked into the bathroom to take care of himself with a hesitant smile. I glanced out the window. It was fucking four thirty in the morning. Bars were closed. I was two blocks from Patrick’s apartment…

Silently, I tucked my purse under my arm and paused at the bathroom door. My chest felt like it was on fire. I was going to just say ‘I’m heading out’, but instead, I found my hand on the door handle. I walked quickly down the hall to the stairs and down into the still abandoned lobby and out the door. My heart was pounding so fast that I was afraid I was doing something wrong by just leaving. It was awkward and I didn’t do ‘awkward’.

I didn’t stop until I got to Patty’s place. I could hear his voice in his room calling out.

“Y/n? What are you doing back? I’m…” he called from behind his door.

“Just keep fucking her, Patrick. I’m just getting into the shower,” I said loudly, much to the shrill chirp of embarrassment by Sidney. “I’m just gonna crash on the couch.”

And that was it. My night of celebration was over, washed down the drain of the shower. I hoped that Jake was smiling as he headed out from Ann Arbor. I knew I’d be wearing this fucking smile for weeks to come…

(banner cred to @ saradika and mdni divider by @ cafekitsune)

And away we go! I hope you liked this first part of the story! I do have a tag list, let me know if you want to be added, or fill out the form here. See you next Wednesday! @lvnterninthenight @doodle417 @luverleaver @jakesgrapejuice @fictional-duchess @milkgemini @positivegvfthings @songbirds-sweet @gretavanbitches @gardensgatedaisy @babyhoneygvfarchive @myownparadise96 @josh-iamyour-mama @starcatcherc @loveisonaroll @jakesstarlight @reesetrippingthelight @builtby-gvf @ignite-my-fire @wetkleenex-gvf @gold-mines-melting @starsasone @mysticalstarcatcher @montenegroisr @takenbythemadness @way-to-go-lad @cal-a-bungaa @thewritingbeforesunrise @leftjudgeempathsuitcase @brokenbells11 @imborrowedshesblue @vanfleeter @sammysvanfeet @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @jaketlove @gvfmarge @becinabubblegvf @wildbluesorbit @sinarainbows @thetroublegetssoloud71 @gracev0609 @gretavangroupie @fleet-of-fiction @edgingthedarkness @itsafullmoon @anythingforjtk @seenoversundown @klarxtr @hollyco @lyndz2names

#jake gvf #jake kiszka #greta van fleet #gvf #cd&fe #greta van fleet fan fiction #gvf fanfiction #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka fan fiction #greta van fleet fanfic #greta van fleet AU #jake kiszka AU

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indigovigilance · 7 months

Text

Lament of the Metatron

I did not have "become an amateur biblical apocrypha scholar" on my 2023 bingo card, but here we are, and I’m going to make you feel bad for hating the Metatron. No, really. A lot of different ✨clues ✨in S2 lead us to the Book of Enoch, which describes how the Metatron came to be. (If you would like to read what the Books of Enoch have to say about maybe-Crowley and maybe-Aziraphale, read this meta.)

There are three books of Enoch: 1 Enoch, 2 Enoch, and 3 Enoch, and after reading them I’ve concluded that they are almost certainly a major source text for Good Omens, at very least with respect to the Metatron. The translation that I used is 116 pages and quite dense, so there will be multiple metas about it (I should also note that I’ve taken great liberties with reorganizing the source text, for brevity). This one addresses the origin of the Metatron and his likely S1 and S3 motivations.

The Story

To quickly summarize the backstory: after Adam and Eve leave the Garden of Eden, a bunch of angels go to Earth, transgress against God (by having children with humans) and piss Her off. So She decides She must flood the Earth to wipe them and all their children and human associates out.

During this age of angelic iniquity, Enoch, a righteous man, the 7th generation from Adam and great-grandfather of Noah, receives visions of the coming flood.

Later, Enoch is lifted up to Heaven by a whirlwind. He gets an angel-guided tour of Heaven and visits what I will call The Mountain of Souls. He sees a mountain with four chambers and asks what they are for. Raphael states that they are for the souls of the dead, where they will be kept until Judgment Day. Enoch asks why they are separated. Raphael answers:

One for the souls of the righteous

One for the souls of sinners, who are buried in the earth, to await judgment, and on that day they will be punished

One for those who complain to, or petition, God (including Abel, who was slain by Cain)

One for the souls of those who are not righteous, “but their souls will not be killed on the day of judgment, nor will they rise from here.” (so perhaps a permanent purgatory?)

Later in his journey, Enoch sees the Valley of Judgment. Again, Raphael answers Enoch’s questions, describing “this accursed valley, is for those who are cursed for ever… [for] all those who speak with their mouths against the Lord… and here will be their place of Judgment.” Enoch comments that it would be better for the sinners if they had never been born.

Enoch also sees where the righteous will go after Judgment: “And in those days my eyes saw the Place of the Chosen Ones of Righteousness and Faith… And I saw their dwelling, under the Wings of the Lord of Spirits, and all the righteous and chosen shone in front of him, like the light of fire…. There I wished to dwell.”

The Second Parable of 1 Enoch describes how God will open the Book of the Living when the Chosen One arrives, and so Judgment Day will begin.

Enoch is taken before God and violently transformed from a human into the Metatron, a celestial being: “And I fell upon my face, and my whole body melted, and my spirit was transformed; and I cried out in a loud voice, in the spirit of power.” After Enoch is transfigured into Metatron, he is made to write 366 volumes of what I will call the Book of Deeds, wherein he writes the name of all men, everything they have done, and what afterlife they are destined for.

After sixty days spent in Heaven, angels return the Metatron to Earth to dwell with his sons for… and this is where the different books of Enoch seem to disagree whether it was for one year or thirty days, but either way, he goes back to Earth with an explicit time limit to explain to his children everything he has seen and to teach them the ways of righteousness. Which he does. The fifth book of 1 Enoch, the Epistle, describes Enoch badgering his children to be not just pretendy-good but properly good, and advising them to suffer and turn the other cheek, etc., so that they are found righteous before God on Judgment Day. He knows that at the end of this visit, he will return to Heaven, will never speak to his sons or the rest of his family for the rest of their lives, and that a Great Flood is coming to wipe out everyone on Earth except for his great-grandson Noah and Noah’s three sons, and that whatever is written in the books by then is what his other sons and grandsons and great-grandsons will be judged by on Judgment Day.

It is worth noting here that a separate scholarly analysis points out that once Enoch is transformed into Metatron, he never eats again: “Since the time when the Lord anointed me with the ointment of his glory, food has not come into me, and earthly pleasure my soul does not remember…” This is meant to show how his journey from human to celestial is opposite that of Adam and Eve, who were nourished by celestial food until they left the Garden, and from then on had to sate themselves with “nourishment for the beasts.”

At the end of this visit to Earth, he issues a final warning to his children and neighbors about the coming Judgment Day, then ascends to Heaven to rule over all the angels and to keep the Book of Deeds.

So what should we take from this?

Enoch, a good man, God’s favorite, is given visions of the destruction of Earth, abducted and taken to Heaven where he is shown the Mountain of Souls, the Valley of Damnation, and the Place of the Chosen Ones of Righteousness, he is transformed into an angel so that he may never enjoy Earthly delights again, he is told that everyone he knows, including all of his children and their children, except for one great-grandson and three great-great-grandsons, will die, and that he has limited time to coach them on how to avoid being punished, tortured, and destroyed forever, and even if he succeeds, they will be trapped in the Mountain of Souls until Judgment Day, and then he is taken from them, and given the responsibility of maintaining the records by which souls will be judged.

So let's talk about motivation.

Here we find an incredibly powerful, incredibly lonely human-turned-angel (because the other angels are both afraid and disrespectful of him), whose entire family was destroyed before his eyes and who are as of right now, as they have been for *checks watch* 5,000 years, trapped in a celestial mountain of purgatory, and the only way he can ever see them again is to bring about the Second Coming, for only on Judgment Day may they be released from the Mountain of Souls and join him before the Throne of Glory, if they heeded his warnings and are found worthy in the sight of God.

This is a highly motivated, highly traumatized anti-villain. Which is possibly the worst thing to happen to Aziraphale because if Azi has a soft spot for anyone, it’s someone whose children were taken from them by God.

******************************

For evidence of why we can selectively ignore/reinterpret Neil's statement re: the Metatron's human past, please read this meta

I read the Book of Enoch from front to back, twice, but if you want to check my work (or write a response meta!) you can find the source material here and here.

If you would like to read what the Books of Enoch have to say about maybe-Crowley and maybe-Aziraphale, read this meta.

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens meta #metatron #book of enoch #book of life #the metatron #ascent of enoch #ivoc

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thethirdromana · 7 months

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Van Helsing's misinformation

I took a look at some of the claims Van Helsing makes in his "immortal parrots" speech on the 26th of September.

Why was it that Methuselah lived nine hundred years, and 'Old Parr' one hundred and sixty-nine...

The oldest authenticated age that anyone has ever reached is 122 years (Jeanne Louise Calment, 1875-1997). Thomas Parr ('Old Parr') allegedly lived from 1483 to 1635 (which is 152 years, not 169) but the 1895 Dictionary of National Biography, which has an entry for Parr, is very sceptical about his claim, noting that his exact age was "attested by village gossip alone."

Here's Old Parr, painted by an unknown artist:

Do you know the altogether of comparative anatomy and can say wherefore the qualities of brutes are in some men, and not in others?

Comparative anatomy is a perfectly reasonable field, but coupled with "the qualities of brutes" and it being the 1890s, I strongly suspect this is some racist physiognomy bullshit (see p550 here for an example of how this looked in contemporary writing, if you must).

Can you tell me why, when other spiders die small and soon, that one great spider lived for centuries in the tower of the old Spanish church and grew and grew, till, on descending, he could drink the oil of all the church lamps?

This one is delightfully weird. It seems to be a telephone-game version of this story, printed in a variety of magazines and miscellanies (e.g.) since 1821:

The sexton of the church of St Eustace, at Paris, amazed to find frequently a particular lamp extinct early, and yet the oil consumed oil, sat up several nights to perceive the cause. At length he discovered that a spider of surprising size came down the cord to drink the oil. A still more extraordinary instance of the same kind occurred during the year 1751, in the Cathedral of Milan. A vast spider was observed there, which fed on the oil of the lamps... It weighed four pounds, and was sent to the Emperor of Austria, and is now in the Imperial Museum at Vienna.

Here's a photo of St Eustache:

In 1894 the story was reprinted in Notes and Queries, with the question: "Are the statements therein pure fiction? If not, can any one tell me how much we may safely believe? A spider weighing four pounds [1.8kg] is indeed a heavy tax on the reader's credulity."

In reality, the largest spider in the world is the Goliath birdeater, which weighs 175g.

Can you tell me why in the Pampas, ay and elsewhere, there are bats that come at night and open the veins of cattle and horses and suck dry their veins...

Vampire bats are real, and live in parts of South and Central America. The prey of the common vampire bat can include cattle (source). The quantity of blood that they drink is small - in the region of 100g, or about a fifth of a typical blood donation. Vampire bat predation can result in the death of much larger animals, but from infection, not draining them dry.

Here's a common vampire bat:

... how in some islands of the Western seas there are bats which hang on the trees all day, and those who have seen describe as like giant nuts or pods, and that when the sailors sleep on the deck, because that it is hot, flit down on them, and then—and then in the morning are found dead men, white as even Miss Lucy was?

From Wikipedia:

West Sea or Western Sea may refer to:

Atlantic Ocean

Pacific Ocean

Indian Ocean

Mediterranean Sea...

So that's not the most helpful starting point. I don't know which bats these are supposed to be, though hanging in trees like giant nuts makes them sound like fruit bats. In Van Helsing's defence, bats do carry a lot of viruses.

Can you tell me why the tortoise lives more long than generations of men...

Lovely to reach something that's just straight-up true. The current oldest living land animal is Jonathan, a 190+-year-old Seychelles giant tortoise.

... why the elephant goes on and on till he have seen dynasties...

Asian elephants live to be 50 or so; African elephants, 60-70 years. Weirdly, it seems to have been widely believed in the 1890s that elephants lived for a century; e.g. that's cited as fact in the 1894 Encyclopaedia Britannica. Either way, "dynasties" feels like an exaggeration.

... why the parrot never die only of bite of cat or dog or other complaint?

I've tried but I can't find where Bram Stoker got this one from. Maybe he made it up. The English Illustrated Magazine, 1897, contains an article complaining about how easily grey parrots die after being imported and sold as pets.

Can you tell me why men believe in all ages and places that there are some few who live on always if they be permit; that there are men and women who cannot die?

I've also got no idea what's going on with this one. I can't figure out how to look into it without coming up with lots of 1890s Christian literature on the immortal soul, which is not what Van Helsing is getting at.

We all know—because science has vouched for the fact—that there have been toads shut up in rocks for thousands of years, shut in one so small hole that only hold him since the youth of the world.

This was a wildly popular myth in Victorian times (see this article for more details). An article in The Gentleman's Magazine, 1877, entitled 'Some Facts and Fictions of Zoology' (reprinted in several other places) went into the question in more detail, and concluded:

These tales are, in short, as devoid of actual foundation as are the modern beliefs in the venomous properties of the toad, or the ancient beliefs in the occult and mystic powers of various parts of its frame when used in incantations.

Here's a toad:

Can you tell me how the Indian fakir can make himself to die and have been buried, and his grave sealed and corn sowed on it, and the corn reaped and be cut and sown and reaped and cut again, and then men come and take away the unbroken seal and that there lie the Indian fakir, not dead, but that rise up and walk amongst them as before?

This seems to have been widely believed in the late 19th century - e.g. this 1897 book references "two undoubted cases... one of whom had remained alive under the ground for six weeks, the other for ten days". This 1880 magazine says that it "will appear incredible" but relays the story of a fakir "buried alive for forty days, then disentombed and resuscitated" as fact.

The longest verified case of someone surviving without drinking water is Andreas Mihavecz, an 18-year-old bricklayer who was mistakenly locked up by police for 18 days. Even then, he drank condensed water from the walls, and was very close to death when he was found.

So in summary:

Old Parr: false

Physiognomy: false

Enormous oil-drinking spider: false

Vampire bats: partially true

Bats killing sailors: partially true

Long-lived tortoises: TRUE

Long-lived elephants: false

Immortal parrots: false

Belief in immortality: ???

Imprisoned toads: false

Buried fakirs: false

I guess there are some disadvantages to having an "absolutely open mind."

#dracula daily #van helsing #historical context #long post

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blinkaftermidnight · 22 days

Note

is it possible to ask for a snippet of that 50k word unpublished fic? Is the plot hole that severe?

Officially that fic is "you left me in the dark." The title is out there now so I guess I'll start using it. The plot hole was literally there were supposed to be nine boys on the island and I only bothered to account for eight throughout the entire story. I hit the end and realized I'M MISSING A BOY. And it mattered because I called those fuckers the Sunken Nine the entire time and went back and saw I only had eight. Also I didn't bother to account for their confederates.

Literally I invented a bunch of boys before the actual boys cast was announced, and maybe that doesn't matter to you guys, but I care about the plot hole that I noticed. It's a stupid one but I'd like to fix it.

Also I have problems with what happens with the characterization of Leah and Fatin, so that needs to be looked at, too. If anything, THAT is the bigger problem I have with this fic as a whole.

I actually started rewriting it but didn't finish that, so I'll give you a snippet out of the original unedited thing.

Here's the first unedited 1.5k under the cut. Sorry if that's a repeat but I included more than I did in one of the posts I linked below.

It took time but I found some related posts about this fic:

It’s their fifth televised interview – no, sixth – since the story first broke. This Morning America, this time. They have to travel to San Diego from Los Angeles in order to make the appearance. Leah still hasn’t figured out a way to stop being nervous once she’s in front of a camera, and she still reaches for Fatin’s hand when they’re warned that they’re gonna be on in sixty seconds. The talk show host smiles too broadly at them, has too much makeup on. She looks fake even up close. Leah squeezes Fatin’s hand tighter to stop herself from scoffing or rolling her eyes or saying something she’s going to regret immediately. Fatin doesn’t squeeze back; she just taps her thumb against Leah’s hand, twice.

The cameraman counts them down while, on the couch on the other side of Fatin, Toni and Martha exchange a few words about how they always have to answer the same fucking questions over and over. On the other side of Leah, Shelby’s leg bounces incessantly, and there isn’t enough room for them to sit without touching, but the way Shelby’s shoulder presses into Leah’s arm isn’t uncomfortable. What’s uncomfortable is the way Leah and Fatin have to act as a buffer between Shelby and Toni. Dot’s next to Shelby, and she’s just as fidgety, but that’s more likely due to her nicotine withdrawal now that she’s picked smoking back up again. She’s not – unfortunately, in Leah’s opinion – wearing cargo pants. She is wearing pants rather than a dress – just like Toni – but Dot’s pants have a normal number of pockets, which is just fucking tragic.

Rachel sits next to Dot, her expression as unreadable as ever, her arms crossed in a way that carefully conceals the stump at the end of her right arm. They’ll be asked about it. At least, they were asked in their last five televised interviews, and the reporters always ask them, and no one knows how to mind their fucking business. Then on the other end of the couch, next to Martha, sits Nora. She speaks maybe ten words total in any given interview. Even when directly addressed. She’s part of the Unsinkable Eight, no denying it. But she isn’t like the rest of them. She knew, and her knowledge of their situation sets her apart.

Leah glances at her hand, still clasped in Fatin’s as the cameraman says five, four, three, two. Fatin’s nails are perfectly manicured, flawlessly painted – what the fuck would Fatin call that color? Probably, like, seafoam green. Her nails match her dress, which is always guaranteed to be too short, so Fatin sits with her legs crossed, with the toe of her shoes with unnecessarily high heels pressing into Leah’s calf. Leah squeezes Fatin’s hand one last time right before the cameraman says one and gives the signal that they’re live, then Leah’s hand easily slips free, and she folds them together in her own lap.

Toni and Martha grin as the host starts speaking. Dot smirks. Shelby’s leg finally stops bouncing, and she sits with her back too straight. She sits too stiffly. She does not look anywhere that could be even vaguely classified as at Toni. Shelby’s shoulder only touches Leah’s arm because there isn’t enough space for it not to. Shelby fidgets as Rachel fields the first question – about her hand, about how it happened and how the group reacted, about how she’s adjusting to it, about what she’s hoping will happen to Gretchen Klein. Rachel manages to deflect most of the question, presenting Fatin with the perfect opportunity to jump in.

Fatin does most of the talking in any given interview. None of them agreed on that. Not explicitly. They still haven’t really made a plan or anything, even though they’ve had plenty of time. Maybe it’s just easier not to talk about it, but no one tries to prevent Fatin from enjoying the spotlight that the media is more than happy to shine on her – on them, really, but Fatin steps up and takes one for the team. Happily. She tastefully redirects the conversation away from Rachel’s hand – or her lack of a hand, Leah supposes – and while she’s not quite talking about herself, she’s still talking about herself. And Fatin’s interruption prompts the host of This Morning America to ask her the next question, and Fatin gladly answers it, smiles widely at the camera, even winks at it at one point.

Leah’s jaw clenches as Fatin laughs with the host over something Leah didn’t hear. Fatin’s always too relaxed about this sort of shit. But Fatin is used to attention, likes having all eyes on her, and Leah could easily see Fatin making a living by, oh, hosting a stupid TV show such as this one every single morning. Wouldn’t bother Fatin at all.

Leah’s careful to keep her eyes away from the camera, just in case it’s on her at any moment, doesn’t want to be caught staring into it. She can’t help but wonder if he watches this show, if he turned on his TV this morning to find the Unsinkable Eight sitting on This Morning America’s couch to discuss their horrific – but apparently wildly entertaining – experience. She wonders if he’s going to have to live the way she does, being forced to hear about her constantly, at least until Gretchen’s trial starts and finishes. You know, the way she has to hear about his upcoming novel. He still has her number blocked, not that she’s tried to find out. He’s probably doing just fine, even if he has to turn on his TV and see Leah’s face on it, even if just for the few moments it takes him to change the channel. It probably doesn’t bother him at all.

Martha’s answering a question now, and maybe that’s why Fatin’s eyes linger on Leah’s face as she chews on the inside of her cheek, wrings her hands together in her lap. Fatin’s fingertips press into Leah’s hip, just briefly, just long enough to get Leah to look at her, and Fatin’s expression is hard to read, but Leah thinks the look she receives means ease up a bit, will you? Leah brushes Fatin’s hand away from her, and Leah resists the urge to do something like run her fingers through her hair – since that would mess it up, and that lady spent so much time getting it perfect – or pull at her eyebrow.

Nora doesn’t speak at all during this interview. She sits with her head bowed, sits in a way that takes up as little space as possible, sits with at least three inches of space between her and Martha even though the rest of them are crammed up against each other due to a lack of space. The host tries to address Nora directly, but Dot swoops in and steals that question, gets a good laugh out of the studio audience with her answer, and the host seems to forget that Nora hasn’t said a word. And Leah would almost rather speak herself than let Nora speak for them all.

It’s their sixth televised interview since the story of the fabricated plane crash and the experiments run by Gretchen Klein and funded by her many rich donors first broke. It’s their last interview before someone – and no one knows who, apparently – leaks all of Gretchen’s files. All of them. Every. Last. One. Logs of their time on the island – not just their time, but the boys’ time, too. Literally thousands of pages of transcripts of what they said, notes on what they did for three fucking months out there – everything. And that’s not even counting the personal files Gretchen had on each of them – and each of the boys – and on all of their closest friends and family. Plus Gretchen’s personal notes and inquiries and guesses about all the girls and boys. Everything Gretchen had comes out.

And all of it leaks while Leah’s asleep in a hotel room in San Diego, while Fatin flips between Netflix and Hulu and cable channels in search of something to watch, because Fatin doesn’t sleep at night, and that’s the reason they know about the leak to begin with. Fatin’s phone is in her hand, and she’s scrolling through Twitter when she sees the first article – at least, that’s how she says she found it once she screams loud enough to jolt Leah out of her first nightmare of the night, drags her out of one nightmare into an inescapable one.

“Files?” Leah questions, rubbing at her eyes. “What the fuck does it mean by files?”

“All of it, Leah!” Fatin yells, knocking her hand into Leah’s shoulder. Leah grunts, rips Fatin’s phone out of her hand and forces her eyes to focus on the words even though she has to squint against the brightness of the screen. “Everything she had on us is out there! Someone just dumped it all onto the internet – and who even knows what might be in there?”

#Anonymous #my fic #the wilds #leatin

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madameaug · 4 months

Text

TEASER!!

No One Likes Being Played ...

The family of three wrapped up their outing by returning home. Peanut rested her head on her mother's shoulders. She was tired, and running around the trampoline park was much more fun than anticipated. Her appa showed her how to do flips and all types of tricks. Then, after bouncing around for sixty minutes, she filled her belly with beef and rice noodles.

"Peanut you have a good day?" Jennette asked, walking into their house. Turning on the low lit lights, as not to fully wake up the drowsy toddler. It was thirty minutes out from Peanut's scheduled bedtime. It was enough time for Peanut to get her second bath of the day and read a short story.

Peanut didn't verbally respond to her mother but she moved her cheeks up and down her mother's shoulders. Jungkook went into the bathroom, running the warm water. Jennette undressed Peanut, placing the worn clothes in a hamper. Still clutching onto her mother's shoulders, Peanut didn't move much.

"Go decompress baby. I'll do the nighttime routine." Jungkook received the naked toddler in his arms. He made silly noises as he gently placed her in the tub. Peanut slapped her palms against the water. Drops of water collected around her face.

Jungkook squished the rubber duck, eliciting a sound that Peanut found hilarious. She laughed, showing her small teeth. Jennette closed the bathroom door, going into her bedroom. She threw herself backward on the bed. Eyes closing and reopening slowly. Her busy day catching up to her. She had do some shopping for Asia's upcoming birthday. So she went to the strip mall and looked around for an hour. She got her hair done, sitting in the salon chair for six hours getting her waist-length box braids. It was the summer and was time for her favorite summer style. Giving her natural hair a much-needed break.

Then of course she met up with Jungkook and Peanut for the family activity, which happened to be going to a trampoline park. It was a lot.

But it was fun.

She loved looking at her chunky baby's smile. Bouncing repeatedly, trying to keep up with her overgrown kid-like father. When looking at the two, it is obvious that Jungkook is Peanut's father. Her eyes were a direct copy of Jungkook's. She expressed her emotions with her eyes. They were the size of saucers when she was excited. They were almonds when she was being shy or bashful. And when she was having an attitude, she was notorious for cutting her eyes at someone.

She scrolled through her photo gallery. Liking pictures that she liked, to see, which she would send to Jungkook's parents. Since they were living in Busan, Jennette made a conscious effort to send pictures or videos of Peanut. It was almost an everyday occurrence. Just so that they could still be in their granddaughter's life.

Jungkook entered the bedroom. He had a similar look of tiredness but with a lighter tone. The front of his shirt was slightly damp, probably as an aftermath of bathtime with Peanut.

"Today was a good day."

"Yes it was."

"Peanut didn't even make it past the fifth page. Kiddo was tired." Jungkook laid beside Jennette. He loved days like this spending time with his family. The two most influential women in his life. He wished all his days could be like today. Spending the morning with Peanut, watching her play with her Barbie dolls. Her sassily tells Jungkook what she wants to wear for the day. To spend the evening with his lover. Taking cringy selfies together at the dinner table. To just lay in each other's presence. If he was lucky he could finish the night with some extra loving that only Jennette could give him.

Jennette's mind was furthest away from anything romantic. She pushed thoughts to the back of her mind, making their way to the forefront. The topic of marriage. The idea of moving forward, becoming something more.

It's been dancing through her mind for a while. She initially thought that it would have occurred by now. Back when she was still in her twenties, and definitely before Peanut arrived. She didn't necessarily have a timeline for her relationship with Jungkook.

But she didn't think it would take so long.

Six years passed, and she was still just Jungkook's girlfriend. Well technically, his baby momma. A technicality that she didn't like. Her relationship with Jungkook wasn't just some one-night hookup that resulted in a pregnancy. There was no lingering tension between parties, just two adults raising a child together. So many like Jennette opened their hearts and their bodies to men that they loved. Carrying and pushing out a child or two symbolizes that love. At any moment, they can be dropped.

She didn't believe it took six years to know if you wanted to marry someone. The old her would have cut her losses and moved on, but Jungkook was different. He wormed his way into her heart. His heart was genuine. He wasn't thinking with his dick. Letting lust or physical attraction lead his actions. It was obvious that he led with his heart. Jennette loved him. Her family loved him, her friends loved him. Yet it seemed that wasn't enough. Six years in with no sight of marriage.

The past year or so had been calm. Jungkook's boxing schedule had calmed since he officially moved into the professional league. His fights were more sparse, but the payout was double what he got at the old gym. He was able to spend more time at home with his family. Now would be the perfect time to propose and continue on with the next step.

"Jungkook," Jennette started, nerves slowly getting the best of her. She was putting herself in a vulnerable position. "Do you ever think about our future?"

"Yes, always." He gently rubbed her hip. "I love our life together. I don't want it any other way. Why?"

"We've had six beautiful years together. We were friends, became lovers, and birthed a beautiful baby girl. Not to sound ungrateful or anything. I just can't help but wonder..."

"About?"

"Getting married. Making our family official." Jungkook took Jennette's hand in his. Pressing a sweet kiss to her knuckles. His eyes never left hers.

"I love you, Jeanie. I love you and Peanut with my whole being. This family is official. It was official when Peanut was born."

Jennette was disappointed. She sighed harder than she wanted to.

"It is, but don't you think we're ready for the 'next'?"

"We are. I just want to make sure that everything is right. I don't want to rush."

"How long have you been thinking about this?" Jennette released another sigh.

"About four years ago."

"Four years ago!?" Jungkook was gobsmacked. "Baby! Why'd you wait so long to tell me."

"Ironically for a similar reason you just said. It just didn't seem like the right time. You were under so much pressure from boxing. I didn't want to add onto it. And then, we found out about Peanut."

"Jeanie, I wish you told me sooner."

Jennette continued to explain, finding it difficult to keep eye contact with Jungkook. She rested her eyes upon a family picture on her side of the bed.

"I just don't want to be just a 'baby momma'. All of the women in my family were married, THEN they had kids. I can't help but feel as if I did my life backward."

Jungkook furrowed his brows, sensing the weight of her words.

"You aren't just a baby momma to me, though. You are my lover. I love you. I know I haven't proposed, but it's not because I don't see you as wife material. Quite the opposite."

Jungkook reassured Jennette. She gave a slight smile. Jungkook was always good at comforting. He always knew just what to say. It was one of the many things she loved about him.

Interjecting in the moment, she heard her mother's voice. A conversation that took place shortly after to told her parents about her pregnancy.

Love is one thing, but securing a life together is another. Don't get stuck and settle for something less."

She didn't want to admit that her mother's words might be coming true. Had she been settling? Had she been content with her status of 'girlfriend'.

Was she stuck?

"You know I don't just want this for me. Well, at least not anymore. I want Peanut to have a family that's officially hers. I want our relationship to bring security in her life."

Jungkook pulled Jennette closer to his body. Her face was now a mere inches away from hers. His hand draped across her hips. She placed a kiss on her forehead.

"When the time is right."

The sentence shouldn't have triggered her as it did, but she couldn't help it. What was he running away from? She removed herself from Jungkook's arms. A knot formed at the bottom of Jungkook's stomach. He felt as if he had just chosen the incorrect dialogue option.

"I've been patient for six years. Six amazing years. Six long years. 'When the time is right', I don't know if I can wait that long. Giving myself hope for something that may never happen."

Jungkook sat up on his elbow. That romantic conclusion he was hoping for long gone. Jennette stood up in front of the foot of the bed. Frustration laced her tone. But she internally chanted a mantra to calm herself down.

"What are you saying?"

"I can't, wait possibly another six years for you to gather the courage to take the next step with me. I can't."

"I'm not asking you to do that Jeanie. And one day I will marry you. I swear on my life that I will. I just want it to be perfect for you and Peanut. I don't want us to rush into things and later come to find out that you regret it. It'll crush me."

"But I'm okay with imperfections. I want decisiveness. I want you to claim me. I want you to claim me to the world. I want to be your wife, for you to be my husband."

Jungkook didn't respond.

"I need to know that these six years will lead to somewhere. That we aren't letting feelings and comfort keep us coasting through life."

The knot of anxiety was transforming into a boulder. Flaring in the pit of his stomach. The fear of losing his family becoming more and more real. It was taking him to a place he didn't want to remember. His childhood. Feeling powerless and out of control. Like he was forced to watch this nightmare just unfold. He needed to remember those breathing techqniues that his mother taught him.

"It will. I promise. I'll make it right, I just need more time."

Jennette shook her head 'no'. Her lips pressed against each other.

"We can't get time back. I need to know if you will take this step with me." She was more forceful with her response. Her heart and her mind pulled in opposite directions.

Her brain knew that she was long overdue for a proposal. The longer she stayed, the harder it would be to leave. No matter how she looked at it, six years was too long.

Her heart, wanted to nuzzle in bed with Jungkook. Telling him that she loved him, and that she would always love him.

"I think we should spend some time apart." She didn't want to make a rash decision in the heat of the moment. Maybe a break was what they both needed. Perhaps this was what their relationship needed. A pause. A moment to reflect.

"Jeanie- no."

"I don't want to give you an ultimatum, Jungkook. That's not fair. But in the same breath it's not fair for me to keep spinning in circles. A break could give us time to figure this out."

Reality was sinking in. Time was moving in slow motion. He could hear every heartbeat thump in his head. Like his heart was hitting his ribcage and cranium at the same time. His salvia was thicker. Throat dry. Fingertips tingly.

"We can work through this. I don't want a break. I- I can't lose you."

"I just need clarity."

With that Jennette turned away from Jungkook. She pulled out a large duffle bag. Taking clothes for herself and for Peanut. Jungkook watched Jennette packing in horror. Disbelief takes over his body. He simply couldn't comprehend what had happened.

A break? She wants a break. Those words struck fear into his heart. Him and Jennette would never be over. He wouldn't allow it. He'd swallow glass before choosing to break up.

"I don't want you to leave." His voice was strained.

Jennette momentarily paused. But she remained firm in her position. This break was to benefit both of them.

"Don't we both deserve to be sure about our future?"

The question lingered in the air. Jungkook watched helplessly as the woman he loved packed to get away from him. Even for just a limited time, the hurt was settling in his chest. For the first time in forever, he wasn't sure what the future held. It wasn't a guarantee that Jennette would come back to him.

At the end of this break, she could decide to leave his ass in the dust. Taking Peanut with her. He hated how negative his thoughts were becoming. He needed positivity and reassurance.

His anxiety was surging, an unbelievable level of panic gripped his heart. He was struggling to find the words. Like he was being submerged underwater. No oxygen. No Jennette. There was a storm brewing in his chest.

His breathing was erratic. He clutched his chest, noting that each breath was becoming shallower. Jennette moved throughout the room, getting plenty of necessary items. Packing extra, as she was unsure how long this break was going to be.

He wanted to alert Jenentte about the impending anxiety attack he was getting ready to have. Yet he was mute. Nothing was coming out, even though he wanted to, like his throat was constricting. He was suffocating in silence. He needed to get a grip.

Barely able to get out of bed, Jungkook's legs lost energy. He sank quietly onto the ground. He was paralyzed by the panic. His hands reached out to Jennette, but her back was to him. His mind provided him vivid imagery of a life without Jennette. His thoughts were torturing him.

If this temporary separation has him acting like this, then surely a permanent separation would end him. It wouldn't be able to survive something like that. In a desperate gasp, Jungkook heaved. The sound catching Jennette's attention.

His unusual silence struck Jennette as odd. She looked over her shoulder to find Jungkook on the ground. A panic of her own encompassed her as she rushed to his side.

"Wha- What's happening?" She kneeled beside him.

He couldn't speak full sentences. Only getting out a singular phrase. "Don't go." He repeated it. Jennette rubbed his jaw. She could feel how tense he was. A wave of guilt rushed over her.

"I'm sorry bug."

She was the one setting them along this path. The one with uncertainty. She was tearing apart her happiness. Hoping that, in the end their mutual love for each other would bring them together.

{ Not an attack on single parents or couples with children who are unmarried. But I think we can all agree six years is LONGGGGG}

#jungkook x jennette #black oc #bts #bts x black oc #madameaug #black fem oc #x black oc #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook angst #black writers #black tumblr #black kpop fans

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ageofbarbarians · 2 years

Text

35 High // S.F.K

AgeOfBarbarians

Summary: Y/N comes home from a long day of work. The whole day was genuinely a series of unfortunate events, but the worst of the worst happens when she gets home.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI! Anxiety Attack, Oral (m&f receiving), Fingering (f receiving)

Word Count: 5.6K

M A S T E R L I S T

You pushed your way through the sea of people, all trying to leave their day jobs, but you were also trying to do the same. You were trying to get home as quickly as you could since today has been absolute hell and you were just one small inconvenience away from having a complete and utter breakdown.

You worked at a small hole-in-the-wall diner a couple of blocks away from your apartment. The money was decent, enough to pay bills and have a little extra saved to the side in case you needed it. There were typically older people who came in to enjoy breakfast or an early lunch. You had a lot of regulars and when they came in they just seemed to make the days more enjoyable. But today was the definition of hell.

You had a couple of tables that gave you a one-dollar tip, or that had completely stiffed you. One snotty group of teenagers came in and while you were delivering food to another table, decided it would be hilarious to trip you. They did end up getting kicked out but you still had food and coffee spilled all over your work clothes. A couple of tables had bitched at you for things that weren’t your fault but just couldn’t grasp the fact that it was on the kitchen and not you. This morning while you were doing your hair you burnt one of your fingers really bad, you were completely out of coffee, and your milk had gone bad so you couldn’t even eat breakfast. It was one of the worst days you had in a while.

You were walking home, trying to calm yourself down, trying as hard as you could to enjoy the last little portion of your day. You had a whole plan set out to watch a couple of movies and order some Chinese food since you were in no mood to cook tonight. As you were walking down the street a lady who was paying more attention to her phone than her surroundings hit your shoulder causing you to drop your phone and the drink you just bought.

“Watch where you’re going, bitch!” She turned to you and flipped you off like it was your fault that she wasn’t paying attention.

“Get your face out of your phone and pay attention cunt!” You yelled back at her. She gasped and stormed off, not wanting to deal with the confrontation. The people who were around you looked at you like you had a third arm or horns coming out of your head. You huffed, picked your phone up, and walked away. There was no saving your drink.

You finally reached the doors to your apartment building. It was one of the largest apartment buildings in the city, it being at least sixty-five stories high. You lived on the forty-sixth floor so you have an amazing view of the entire city. As crazy as it seemed, you always took the stairs. Forty-six flights of stairs seemed crazy to most people, but you just considered it your daily dose of cardio. Not to mention the crippling fear you had of elevators. It was extremely rare that you took the elevator, and today was one of those rare days. You didn’t want to take the time to walk up the stairs when you could be up to your floor in seconds.

Surprisingly the lobby was pretty empty this evening. You walked up to the elevator and hit the upward arrow and waited for the doors to open. You took in a deep breath through your nose and exhaled through your mouth. Seconds later the elevator doors opened. You stepped in and hit the button next to the forty-six. The button lit up and you leaned against the back wall waiting for the doors to clothes. They began to shut and it was only a split second away from shutting completely before they opened again.

A boy who looked to be about your age stepped in and he seemed like he was out of breath. He pushed the button for the forty-fifth floor and it lit up. He gave you a small smile and leaned against the wall right next to you.

Really dude? Out of all places it had to be right next to me? You thought to yourself. You let out a huff and pulled out your phone trying to pull up your Instagram. Of course, you weren’t getting any single so nothing was loading. But with how the rest of the day had gone, you weren’t surprised.

You stood there in silence, your eyes locked onto the elevator door just waiting for them to open. The boy next to you hummed to himself and you couldn’t tell why but it was driving you a little nuts.

“I’m sorry, but do you mind?” You snapped, turned your head towards him and he looked at you with a raised brow.

“Sorry?” He looked confused and after observing his features you felt bad. Really bad. His eyes were a beautiful shade of brown, long brown hair that was pulled back into a messy bun, a jawline that could cut diamonds, and lips that were oh so perfectly pink they were almost kissable. He was in a black suit that was tailored to fit him perfectly, but he didn’t have a shirt underneath the suit jacket. Some of the skin on his stomach was exposed revealing the way it slightly glistened, but you didn’t stare too long. Everything about this man was stunning.

“Sorry I just,” you paused and rubbed the bridge of your nose with your thumb and pointer finger. “I’ve had the worst day and the humming is kind of annoying if I’m being honest. I didn’t mean to snap, that was rude of me.” You said the last part quietly and looked down at your feet, avoiding his gaze.

“It’s alright, doll. I guess it can be quite-“ he stopped talking as there was a loud thud and the elevator suddenly stopped. It shook for a second and you instinctively grabbed the boy's arm next to you. You realized what you had done and removed your hands from him. You mumbled a sorry before that there was a potential that your biggest fear had just hit.

“Are we stuck?” Your eyes went wide at the realization that you were no longer moving, and the red numbers indicating the floor number were stuck on thirty-five.

“I think so, it shouldn’t be a problem though,” he shrugged casually and you immediately sank to the floor with your head going between your knees.

“This is my worst fucking nightmare.” You whispered to yourself. Suddenly, it felt like there was hardly any air left in the small space and your chest became tight. You took in a deep breath through your nose and out through your mouth to try and calm yourself down but it wasn’t working. You could feel your body begin to shake and tears brimmed your eyes.

“Hey, are you alright?” The boy next to you crouched down and gently sat his hand on your shoulder. You looked over at him and there seemed to be genuine concern on his face. A few tears slid down your face and you continued to shake as you wiped them away quickly.

“T-this is one of my worst fears. I’ve had a day from hell and this is just the cherry on top. I don’t even know what to do.” You began to panic more and your breathing started to pick up. You were on the verge of hyperventilating.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Look,” He stood up and pushed the emergency call button that all elevators were required to have. It rang a couple of times before a voice picked up.

“Hello?”

“Hi, yeah, we’re currently in Clemming Heights, our elevator is stuck, we aren’t sure what happened.”

“How many people are in your elevator?” The voice came through the speaker.

“There’s two of us.” He replied and looked back at you. Your hands were shaking violently and more tears slid down your face. You tried every trick in the book to calm your nerves but everything you did just seemed to make things worse.

This was the worst day you’ve ever had by far. Maybe you should’ve just taken the stairs. If you did you wouldn’t be trapped in this metal box that could just plummet to the very bottom at any moment.

“Okay, we’re sending a technician over now. It should be about an hour before it’s fixed.”

“Thank you.” That was all he said and then he came back and sat next to you.

“An hour!? I-I don’t think I can be in here for an hour.” You started to hyperventilate and you tried your hardest to calm down but everything you knew just wasn’t working. You didn’t want to be having an anxiety attack in front of a total stranger, a handsome one at that. The whole thing was embarrassing. Today genuinely could not get any worse.

“It’s okay, I promise we’ll be okay. Hey, look at me.” He sat his hand on your shoulder again before he scooted in front of you, legs crossed. You looked up at him and he has a small smile on his face trying his best to cheer you up.

“What’s your name, doll?” He asked softly.

“Y/N,” You wiped your face with the back of your hand. Your breathing was still unsteady and your chest was still tight, feeling like it could just explode at any given moment,

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Sam, or Sammy, whichever you prefer. I live on the forty-fifth floor. Do you wanna talk about your day? Get your mind off this?” Sam introduced himself and it was nice that you could finally put a name to a face. You were hesitant but something was comforting about him, so you went on about how terrible your day was and he just sat there and listened, nodding his head now and again. You went through your entire day, from the time you woke up, up until now. He never once interrupted you, he just sat there and listened. It was nice.

“That sounds like a lot. Just think about it this way, today is almost over. Once we get out of here, you can go home, make some tea, binge on some snacks, watch a movie, or whatever it is you want to do and you can just relax. Tomorrow is a new day, and you can start fresh, yeah?” Sam spoke softly and his words were reassuring. You were silent for a moment, staring into his chestnut eyes. You scanned his face, but you didn’t know what it was you were searching for.

“Yeah, you’re right.” You smiled lightly, looking at the floor of the elevator. You had noticed that you were finally calmed down despite ranting about the shitshow of a day you'd had. Maybe all you needed was somebody to talk to about what had gone wrong. Ranting about everything today had cleared your mind and it made you calm down about being stuck. Even though it wasn’t the most ideal situation, you were glad that somebody was here with you instead of being alone.

“I’m on forty-six.” You spoke up again after a moment of silence. Sam looked at you slightly confused before remembering he had told you what floor he lived on.

“I’ve never seen you around before.” You could feel his eyes burning into you. You shifted and averted eye contact with him. He wasn’t intimidating but he was just so attractive that it felt like he was intimidating.

“Well, it is a big building…” You responded with a bit of sarcasm in your voice. You looked up again and Sam's smiled with a light laugh and nodded his head, looking at the ground.

“I guess you’re right. I just figured I’d remember seeing a pretty girl like you.” He looked up at you again and you felt your cheeks go hot. The compliment was so unexpected and it honestly caught you off guard. You had been in here for only fifteen minutes and he was trying to flirt with you. Not that you had minded, you did need a little excitement in your life, but Sam was definitely out of your league.

“I don’t know about that, I never take the elevator. I usually take the stairs,” you shook your head and you could feel your cheeks heat up at his compliment.

“Seriously?” He asked with wide eyes and his eyebrows raised, slightly dumbfounded. You shook your head. All you could do was nod, not too sure of what to say.

“I bet your legs are killer.” He laughed to himself and then stopped once he realized what he said. Sam wasn’t trying to make the situation sexual in any sort but the comment just kind of slipped out. He wasn’t wrong though, because of doing it almost daily you did have really nice legs. They were toned and had just the perfect amount of muscle to them.

“Sorry, that came out a little more sexual than I was expecting it to.” Sam awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck and you couldn’t help but laugh. You observed exposed skin and wondered why he was so dressed up but also why he didn't have a shirt under his suit jacket. Even sitting down you could tell how toned he was and honestly, it was quite sexy. You bit your lip and your eyes met his. You tried to play it off but he had a smirk on his face. The comment about your legs was still playing in your head and you didn’t really know why. Maybe it was because you were getting hit on by an attractive guy? Or the fact that you never really got hit on in general? You looked away for a moment trying to avert your eyes elsewhere.

“Enjoying the view?” He asked with a slight raise of his brow. Your eyes met his again and you could feel a bit of heat creeping onto your cheeks from the fact that he caught you staring.

“Don’t get cocky, Sammy.” You shook your head and scanned him once more. A part of you was just trying to fuck with him but another part of you genuinely wanted to just check him out. You began to wonder what he looked like without the suit jacket on, how his muscles and abdomen flexed, and what he looked like without almost anything on.

Your thoughts started getting the best of you and you shook your head slightly as a way to try and rid of them. You pressed your legs together, heat building at your core, trying your hardest not to make it noticeable.

“Cocky is my middle name, babydoll,” Sam said quietly with a tone that you couldn’t quite read. It was sexy and dominant but you really couldn’t tell what he was going for. The pet name that he had called you a couple of times already sent shivers down your spine and you bit your lip once more with a smile across your face. Even though he had called you 'doll' previously, there was just something about the subtle difference.

The two of you gazed into each other eyes, not sure what to even say. Your eyes flickered back and forth between him and his lips. He was doing the same and you could just tell the sexual tension was rising between the two of you.

In a split-second decision, you decided to just lean forward and kiss him. It wasn’t like you to make the first move, hell you had never even made the first move, but there was just something about Sam that was so captivating and you were determined to figure it out why he was making you feel this way.

Moments later it finally dawned on you that you were kissing a total stranger and you didn’t have a drop of alcohol in you. You had your fair share of hookups but they never happened if you weren’t drinking. You never had the confidence to initiate something like that. You pulled away and your hand came up to touch your lips. Sam had a look of surprise on his face but you couldn’t exactly read it. The silence grew heavy and you suddenly felt embarrassed.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry that was really-“ You couldn’t even finish your sentence before Sam's lips connected with yours again. One of his hands cupped the side of your face while to other rested right above your knee and your arms wrapped around his neck. You felt his tongue graze your bottom lip, in a way that was requesting permission for him to enter and you opened your mouth a little bit wider to allow access. His tongue fought with yours and he bit down on your bottom lip. Your hands pulled on the hair at the nape of his neck as Sam groaned and you could feel it through the kiss. The noise alone sent fire to your center and you scooted closer to him. You didn’t want to cross any boundaries, especially because you had only met him not even twenty minutes ago, but he removed his hands from your face and pulled you onto his lap.

“Is this crazy? This is crazy.” You pulled away, not realizing how deprived of oxygen you were until you took a deep breath. You stared into Sam's eyes and a wide grin flashed across his face.

“I like crazy,” Was all he said before kissing you again. You moaned quietly, hoping he didn’t hear it but from the way he sighed and started kissing along your jawline and neck, you knew he did. You leaned your head back, exposing more of the skin on your neck, allowing him access to wherever he pleased. He bit at the skin behind your ear and smoothed over it with his tongue. You pulled harder on the hair at the nape of his neck. He had found your sweet spot and the longer he stayed there, the more you were melting into his touch. You knew there was going to be a lilac mark.

Sam moved down your neck, eventually reaching your collarbones. He left a few chaste kisses across them but then licked a stripe up the front of your throat and connected his lips with yours. That simple action was almost enough to make you come undone. You adjusted your hips and as you did so you could feel Sam's hardened length under you. He hissed at the movement and you couldn’t help but smirk. You rocked your hips once more and he pushed up into you before grabbing your hips to hold you still.

“I want to take you home, Y/N,” Sam said between the kisses. The thought made butterflies run through your stomach.

“Lemme turn your day around. Let me make you feel good,” He attacked the other side of your neck, and his words made you moan. You tried to move against him, hoping to relieve some of the pressure that was building up in your core but Sam was quick to stop you.

“Words baby, use them.” He commanded.

“Please,” was all you managed to get out. He smirked and it just showed how cocky he really was.

“Please what?“ He stared at you intently, waiting for you to say exactly what he wanted to hear.

“Fuck, please take me home Sammy, just do something,” you moaned, and honestly, it was almost pathetic.

“Gladly,” Sam grabbed the underside of your thighs and stood up as he pushed your back against the elevator wall. Your legs wrapped around his waist and he began to kiss you again, this time with a little more force. With one hand he grabbed your wrists and pinned them above you, not allowing you to touch him.

You loved when somebody was dominant towards you. You liked being told what to do, being thrown around, and even being punished. You were into the rougher sex but it never seemed like anybody could seem to satisfy you with what you were looking for. Sure it was good enough in the moment, but you just needed… more.

Your legs tightened around Sam's waist and you tried anything just to feel some sort of friction against him to release some of the pressure. You pushed your chest up against him and moaned quietly into his mouth.

“If you don’t stop I may just have to fuck you in here,” Sam's voice was dominant and demanding. You flashed him a devilish grin before you rocked your hips up against him again.

“What if I want you to fuck me in here, Sam?” You asked with one of your brows raised. Your words alone looked like they could’ve sent him over the edge. Sam swiftly popped the button on your jeans and slid his hands into your pants, rubbing his fingers over the dampened cotton.

“Look at you, so wet for me already,” His forehead leaned against yours and a breathy moan slid past your lips. His fingers circled over your clothed clit and he smirked as he watched your face slightly contort with pleasure.

“Please,” was all you could say but you didn’t even know what you were begging for. Fuck, there were lots of things you could’ve been begging for right now.

“Please what? What do you want, pretty girl? Do you want my fingers? My cock?” His movements slowed down and you shifted, trying to feel his touch. You didn’t want to admit it but you were already nearing your release just from him rubbing his fingers along your clit. You didn’t respond and Sam removed all contact from your core, just waiting for you to answer him.

“Shit, I want your fingers, please,” You whined pathetically. Sam smiled at you before dipping his hands back into your jeans. He moved your cotton panties to the side and his thumb brushed over your clit. Your back arched slightly and you took your bottom lip in between your teeth. You could feel Sam's fingers run through your folds, collecting your arousal on the tips. He removed his hand once more and wrapped his mouth around his fingers, tasting every little bit of you. He closed his eyes and moaned, swirling his tongue around his digits.

“You taste like honey, babydoll” he groaned and went to stick his hands past the material of your jeans and he huffed.

“These, they need to come off.” He put you back down onto your feet before he sunk onto his knees. He curled his fingers around the belt loops and swiftly pulled your jeans down, helping you step out of them. You were left in your t-shirt and dark green cotton underwear. They were pretty cheeky, but they had just the perfect amount of coverage and the straps were thin on your sides.

Sammy observed you for a moment before planting a kiss on your clothed core. His fingers hooked around the thin straps and pulled them down, throwing them with your jeans. His hand slotted between your legs, causing you to spread them before he dipped his head forward and licked a thick, bold stripe up your center. Your mouth formed into an ‘o’ and your knees felt weak. One of your hands flew to his hair and tugged on his wavy brown tresses.

“Fuck, Sammy I want your fingers, please,” you moaned out. Even though his mouth did feel amazing, you so badly needed some sort of release.

“Only because you asked so nicely,” Sam grinned up at you before he entered two fingers into you, curling them upwards. Your knees buckled and you sat your free hand on his shoulder, trying your hardest not to fall. Sam watched your face twist with pleasure for a moment before he attached his mouth to your clit.

“Shit,” you gasped and tugged on his roots again. From the way, his fingers curved in and out of you to the way his tongue flicked and sucked on your clit you knew you weren’t going to last much longer. Moans left your lips and you tried not to be too loud even though it didn’t really matter since you were still stuck.

“Do you like that, baby? The way my fingers fuck you?” Sam applied a kiss to your abdomen and you whimpered at his words. You nodded your head but that wasn’t enough for him.

“Words. Use them.” His fingers stilled inside of you and raised a brow waiting for you to say something.

“Fuck, yes Sam, please don’t stop, I’m so close.” You moaned and he picked up his pace again. Sam attacked your clit with his mouth again, sucking on the swollen bundle of nerves trying to get you closer to your climax. Your eyes screwed shut and a loud moan flew past your lips. You could feel yourself clenching around his fingers and that familiar feeling of a rubberband on the verge of snapping in the pit of your stomach.

“Fuck, Sammy, I’m cumming,” you moaned and looked down at the explicit scene below you. Sam shook his head and you gave him a slightly confused look.

“Not yet baby, hold out just a little longer for me,” He kissed the front of your thighs and used his free hand to rub quick circles along your clit.

“I-I don’t know if I can,” you moaned and you could feel your legs begin to violently shake. You were on the brink of exploding but the longer you held back, the worse the feeling felt. That pit in your stomach was burning and you just needed a release

“You can and you will. Hang on for me,” Sam added a third finger and your vision was going in and out as more obscenities flew past your lips.

“Sam please, please let me cum. Oh my god, I’ll do anything. Please, I’m begging,” You gasped and you could feel your legs wanting to close but Sam held them open with his elbows, his movements quickening.

“That’s what I wanted to hear. Cum for me baby. Look at me or I’ll stop,” he threatened. You looked down at him as you struggled to keep your eyes open. You focused on the boy below you who was destroying you with his fingers. You sunk slightly as your orgasm tore through you. You moaned loudly and bit the back of your hand to try and suppress it. Your eyes screwed shut from the feeling being too overwhelming. Tears brimmed your eyes and you swore you could’ve passed out from the amount of euphoria you were experiencing.

Sam groaned as he rode you through your orgasm. He slowed his pace before his mouth connected with your heat, lapping up every last drop of you. Your legs shook and every time his tongue passed over your clit you couldn’t help but whine from the overstimulation.

“God you are fucking beautiful,” Sam stood up and roughly connected his lips with yours. You could taste yourself on his tongue and you didn’t even mind, it just made it so much more arousing. Sam placed one hand at the back of your neck while his other hand tangled in your hair and pulled at the roots. Your head tilted back and your mouth opened but no words came out.

“I’ll make you cum again if you let me, just say the word, babydoll.” He whispered into your ear before nipping at your earlobe with his teeth.

“Yes, please,” you whispered. His words sent shivers down your spine and the thought of him making you cum again sent a new wave of heat to your core. He pressed another kiss to your lips, this one a lot gentler than the last.

“Are you okay?” He asked quietly.

"Much better," You nodded your head and applied one last chaste kiss to his lips.

As soon as he pulled away the elevator shook and you noticed the numbers starting to go up again. You cursed under your breath and quickly grabbed your jeans, unsure of where your underwear went. You looked around the small space and you were absolutely dumbfounded.

“Looking for these?” San asked, holding them up. Before you could grab them he shoved them into his pocket and you didn’t even know what to say. You quickly slid your legs through the tight jeans and buttoned them. Seconds later the elevator door opened on the forty-fifth floor. There was a mother and her two small children waiting to enter the elevator. She looked at you and Sam with a disgusted look on her face. Sam grabbed your hand and lead you out towards his apartment. You were still slightly out of breath which means your face was probably red and Sam's hair was unruly from you pulling on his locks, but he didn’t even seem to mind.

“Are you hungry?” Sam asked as you followed him down the hall before stopping in front of one of the many doors. He pulled out a key and unlocked the door, allowing you to enter first. You stood directly next to the door, not wanting to overstep any boundaries of some sort.

“I was going to order some Chinese when I got home.” You said, on the quieter side. It was so strange that he had just gone from fingering you and eating you out to acting like nothing even happened and asking if you were hungry.

“Chinese it is.” Sam closed the door and lead you into the living room while he started to call a local Chinese restaurant. Before he could start the call you stopped him.

“I can pay for it,” you offered and he shook his head.

“Let it be my treat, you had a shit day. I told you I wanted to make it better.” He smiled and put the phone up to his ear. His words replayed in your head and you clenched your thighs together at the thought of potentially hooking up with him later.

“Needy are we?” He spoke from behind you and you turned around to see him almost hovering over you. You didn’t even know what to say. You cross your legs and gulp.

“Patience is a virtue, darling.” He smirked and came and sat next to you before turning on the television.

“What if I don’t want to wait that long?” You raised a brow, trying to challenge him.

“Good girls get rewarded.” That was all he said before he stood up once more and made his way over to the kitchen.

“And if they aren’t good?” You question him. All he did was shrug. You didn’t know how to feel about this little game he was playing but it was driving you mad, sexually. You sighed and looked over the back of the couch. He poured some whisky into a glass and held the bottle up to offer you some after he realized you were looking at him. You nodded slightly and he poured you a glass, bringing them over. He sat down on the couch and handed you your glass and sat his hand on your thigh.

Sam's eyes were fixed on the tv while he took small sips from his drink and all you could do was stare at his side profile. You quickly chugged your drink, the bitter taste coating your lips and mouth. You could feel the heat fill your chest and you sat the glass down on the table. Sam looked at you with a confused look before you swung your legs over his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“I want you. Now.” You commanded. Sam met your lips as he kissed you hungrily. He leaned forward and slid off his suit jacket, leaving his chest exposed. You placed your hands on his stomach, your fingers toying with the waistband of his suit pants. You breathed heavily through your nose, a quiet whimper escaping as Sam bit your bottom lip.

Sam flipped you over so your back was against the couch and he hovered over top of you, one of his knees slotted between your legs. He pinned your arms above you like he had done previously in the elevator and he bunched up your shirt in his free hand. He trailed kisses from your lips, down your neck, over the swell of your breasts, and across your stomach. He stopped at the waistband of your jeans and unbuttoned them again. He slowly unzipped the zipper, trying to toy with you in any way he could. He slipped his hand passed your jeans, his fingers just barely hovering over your center that was once again dripping with arousal. He put pressure down on your clit before he released from the kiss, looking at your pleasured expression.

“As I said, good girls get rewarded.” He drug his fingers through your arousal and brought his slick fingers to his lips. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door and he removed his knee from in between your legs. You layed there, defeated and out of breath with your core throbbing. He answered the door and you heard the rustling of bags when he reappeared with the food. You weren’t even hungry anymore.

“Hungry?” That was all he asked before he started taking food out of the bags as if nothing had even happened. All you could do was stare at him in disbelief.

You weren’t even hungry anymore.

***

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