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#And now I'm back here again its really triggering me

csainzoperator · 5 months

Text

love bites ☆

summary: y/n and her bestfriend are out partying. her boyfriend knows she's in a club and can't help but feel a bit jealous that men will get to see his girl smile, dance and what not. so he pulls up to the club with the his driver friends.

(pierre gasly × fem!reader)

trigger warnings: a few sexual intendos, mostly fluff, biting and a lovesick pierre

read more under the cut!

y/nusername has posted a story!

party ready!! liked by pierregasly, yourbsfusername and others. seen by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and others

- pierregasly has replied to your story "are you trying to kill me, baby?"

you smile cheekily as you type back a reply "maybe"

- pierregasly "fuck."

you smile and keep your phone inside your purse, knowing very well that your boyfriend who is at home rn, most probably is going insane. you and your bestfriend reach the club and go straight to the bar to down some shots. "its been so long since we have done this oh my god!" your bestfriend says to you after you order a few shots of vodka.

after a while, you are slightly tipsy (totally drunk) and your bestfriend is down only a shot as she was the DD (designated driver) tonight.

"we should dance" you whisper in her ears as the music was too loud. you had a wide smile on your face as dancing was one of the things you loved the most.

you gasp as you hear your favourite song play. it was "please don't stop the music" by rihanna. you giggle as you pull your bestfriend and start dancing to the beat.

little did you know that your boyfriend was only a few metres away, watching you as you moved your hips, laughing now and then. not only him but most of the drivers on the grid were there too.

the music changes and the mood gets all sexy as "under the influence" by chris brown starts playing. you feel a pair of hands on your waist and quickly move away "i have a boyfriend" is all you get out. but your drunk ass didn't recognise that it was your boyfriend that was behind you.

pierre smiles as he realises how drunk you are. he slowly makes you turn towards him.

"baby, its me." pierre whispers in your ear as he caresses your waist.

you smile wide and wrap your hands around his neck "am i hallucinating because i missed you so much"

he laughs and gives your cheek a sweet kiss "no, i'm here, my love" you let out a giggle as he kisses your cheek. you start dancing again, guiding pierre's hands towards your hips. you have no idea how hot you look to your boyfriend right now. his hands grip your hips tighter, moving slowly with you.

you tiptoe and whisper in his ear, as the lyrics say "your body light weight speaks to me." he lets out a small groan and turns you around, your back facing his chest. he rests his chin on your shoulder, kissing your neck now and then. "you really did plan to kill me today, no?" he whispers in your ear.

"not really, how would i survive without your kisses?" you reply as you try to control your giggles. pierre just shakes his head in amusement.

the song comes to an end and both of you walk towards a private booth where all your friends are seated. pierre settles down on the couch, pulling you down on his lap.

"he's so goddamn whipped. mans made us drop all our work to go clubbing with him to see HIS girlfriend like how is that fair??" lando was ranting to charles, although charles looked like he had been through this almost a million times. "i mean, if my girlfriend looked like that and was out late at night, i would gladly be a security gaurd, no charges" daniel says as he clicks a few pictures of the bar, and lily with alex.

lando nods, humming in response "fair enough." pierre flips him off as you giggle again, with your head on his chest. you get the sudden urge to say a few things and sit straight, still on his lap.

you grab a bottle of champagne that was on the table and hold it as your mic "ladies and gentlebitches, i miss my boyfriend right now. he is the most sexiest man alive, but still somehow the most adorable human" you keep blabbering and suddenly you realise that charles is here. you point a finger at him, like as if he has committed a huge crime. "YOU, YOU ALWAYS TRY TO STEAL HIM YOU KNOW?" you yell at charles and feel two arms wrapping around your waist tightly, pulling you backwards because you were angle-ing the champagne bottle like you were about to throw it at charles.

this erupts loud laughter in the room and you giggle to yourself again "oh my god i'm funny" you start wiggling in pierre's lap, making him wrap his arms around you even tighter, if that was even possible. "that is really not helping our situation right now, mon cherie." he whispers in your ear. your eyes widen as you stop moving.

"guys, pierre didn't even let me have dinner and now his girlfriend wants to kill me. can we please go get some food?" charles says, all ready to leave.

"my treat!" pierre smiles as he says this. he looks at you and raises his eyebrows "and for my lady, what would you like to eat?"

"you." they say devil works fast but your mouth sure does work faster. everyone around you make gagging sounds, completely disgusted.

"I DID NOT NEED TO KNOW THIS INFORMATION" max, who never spoke a word the entire night, suddenly yells. everyone agrees to his beautiful words and start moving out of the private area, towards the exit.

just before you all leave, danny asks you and pierre to smile for a picture and you look up at pierre, smiling cheekily before tip-toeing and biting his cheek. pierre smiles wide for the camera as danny's precious camera captures the moment perfectly.

danny rolls his eyes playfully, making a disgusted noise. "i hate you guys" both of you laugh as he walks out. pierre holds your hand in his and wraps another arm around the small of your waist as you walk together.

"what was that bite for?" he asks, although he already knows the answer. you do it often. very often to be honest. your love language is biting basically.

"i told you i wanted to eat you, i wasn't lying" you mock seriousness but fail miserably as you start giggling again.

"crazy. my girlfriend is crazy" he whispers as he smiles to himself.

you bite his cheek again, mumbling softly "its a love bite, baby."

daniel.jpg has posted!

these two lovebirds couldn't keep their hands off of each other. it was disgusting. (jk, love you both)

tagged y/nusername and pierregasly

liked by y/nusername, pierregasly, landonoriss and 292,812,23 others.

y/nusername DANNY I LOVE YOU FOR TAKING THIS PICTURE

- daniel.jpg you owe me 7 BILLION DOLLARS NOW.

- pierregaslllyyyy MY PARENTS 🙏🏼🙏🏼

charles_leclerc i'm never ever coming out when pierre and y/n are together. never. i almost died.

- lechairrr MY MANS WENT THRU SOME SHIT LAST NIGHT 😭😭

- carlando LMAO THIS IS TAKING ME OUT

f1wags our favourite wag 🫶🏼

landonoriss my man pierre was going thru some insane shit when he saw y/n's story last night. no joke.

- maxverstappen1 yes. can confirm.

- pierregasly can you guys stop exposing me

- f1lovers LMAO LOVE HOW EVERYBODY IS ATTACKING PIERRE

pierregasly love bite ❤️

the end ♡

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carrymelikeimcute · 7 months

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Going over the izzy/lucius/shark exchange is so interesting in the context of this being an episode about apologies. About making concessions and trying to fix things.

(In this ep there's a lot about ed making amends/accommodating the crew's triggers and trauma. It's also about stede having to fix things when he upsets the superstitious crew by not treating their feelings as valid.)

At the start we have Ed's (probably well intentioned) but evasive, non-apology. He does an 'I'm sorry you feel that way' sort of apology about 'whatever that bad stuff was'. It's a wish to do better, but it doesn't really cover what went before. A lot of people interject here, but Izzy remains completely still and silent, off to one side.

Lucius says he never used the word 'sorry' and rightly calls this out. Roach however, says he's never heard an apology before - and liked it - so this seems like as much as it's a first for Ed to take even some accountability, it's probably the first time some of the crew have seen a captain (or anyone else) do this too.

Archie says 'They just get away with it and we move on'.

Lucius rounds on Izzy, because obviously Izzy should have the biggest grievance here. But Izzy responds to the question about Ed's apology as if it was about piracy in general - clearly showing that the cycle of abuse is a feature, not a bug. This is part of his life and identity as a pirate. This is, actually, things going back to normal. You get whipped (and we see these scars on him later) no one apologises, and you just reset to how it was before, pretending nothing has been altered until it all bubbles over again.

Ed then tells stede that he's never apologised for anything. Confirming that most of the crew's responses are in line with their past experiences.

Then Ed goes to fix the door and tells it that it's not its fault that it's broken, it was just doing it's job. This directly parallels Izzy's rant to the figurehead about it failing to do it's job. Ed could be talking about himself here, as Izzy was talking about himself - but to me it doesn't fit that well, because what 'job' was Ed trying to do? He could instead be acknowledging, indirectly, that he is aware that Izzy was doing his job - trying to make sure they all survived and functioned as a crew. Ed probably broke that door, and he broke Izzy. But he has yet to talk to him about it.

Immediately following this, is when he scares the BEJESUS out of Lucius and tells him 'it would be faster to get all this out in one go'. It sounds like a reasonable suggestion, but we know that it doesn't actually work. Lucius pushes him off the boat and it doesn't help. Because 'I hurt you, so now you hurt me' doesn't benefit the abused, it's still about making the abuser feel better - making them feel punished and therefore redeemed, even when their victim isn't healed. I don't think Ed is trying to manipulate Lucius here - both of them think it might help to 'fix things' but fixing things takes emotional intelligence that's not really developed yet.

ENTER, THE SHARK

Izzy starts working on the shark, after the non-apology. He doesn't have it in the 'candle fighting' scene obvs - but he does receive an apology in that scene, when stede says 'feet' and then corrects himself to foot. It's a simple straightforward apology, even if he does sort of laugh awkwardly. Izzy also at least attempted to apologise to Stede in ep. 3 - so he clearly sees the use in apologies - AND right after the apology, Izzy agrees to help stede. Their relationship changes. It gets better and they're no longer stuck in those old patterns. Izzy is full-on gentle parenting stede - even when he shoots down a fucking sail.

He also, notably, states that the crew's feelings on the curse are important. Meaning, how the crew feels is important to him, period.

After this, we're back to Lucius throwing Ed overboard. But it doesn't work because Ed doesn't remember the talent show thing, he doesn't really know why Lucius was so blindsided by that betrayal of trust. It's not about who goes overboard. It's about the dynamics underneath that and those can't be fixed by just trading places for a moment.

FINALLY. We see Izzy finishing the shark, and he's completely unsurprised that Lucius pushing Ed into the water didn't fix things. Izzy's done this 'tit for tat' thing - betraying Ed to the English over being banished - and it ended terribly for both of them. It escalated things. He knows it's not as simply as getting even with someone.

The solution Izzy has chosen to the cycle of his relationship with Ed is to pretend that Ed hasn't done anything to him. A shark did it. Like with the non-apology, blame is being shifted to a third party 'the bad things' the 'bad times'. Lucius (rightly) points out that this is not healthy, but Izzy's response, that's better than not moving on, clearly resonates.

Izzy's response to being hurt was to 1. Get even and 2. (when that proved deeply unsatisfying and made things worse) to put the unresolved conflict behind him. Because he doesn't think Ed is ever going to apologise or change, and wanting those things just hurt more.

Anyone who has parents/a partner/friend who's NEVER apologised for anything, knows how he's feeling. You stop trying to have it out and fix the relationship, and it starts to wither, even though the other person thinks it's healthy.

'Not moving on is worse' is a warning, and it's one that Lucius takes to heart, immediately trying to centre positive things instead of resentment and anger. He shares his feelings with Pete, and their relationship thrives.

The issue here, is that denial doesn't work. Lucius might be able to move on from what happened to him without a proper apology from Ed, but that's because he's not in a relationship with him. Izzy's the one who's really in it with Ed - he's had DECADES of this shit. That can't be willed away.

Stede's resolution to the curse conflict models a healthier method and one that I'm hoping we see in a future episode between Ed/Izzy. He validates the crew's feelings, make a sacrifice (the suit) and TOGETHER they collaborate on a solution to the issue that is mutually satisfactory - he even gets to keep the shirt, as a sort of compromise. It isn't about just making stede or the crew feel better, it's about moving on together.

This happens with Ed and Fang! Ed actually apologises once he realises what, specifically he did wrong. Fang says they're 'sweet' because he beat Ed to death (oof) which outwardly seems like retaliation working - but there has also been an actual apology and Fang wasn't retaliating against Ed, he was standing up for himself - a physical version of saying 'that wasn't OK - you need to change'.

This method of resolution is echoed in the final scene, with stede and ed. They reach an understanding about the pace of their relationship and find a happy medium (holding hands) - mutually satisfied and moving forwards.

Bottom line? I hope we see 1. Ed actually apologise to Izzy and 2. the pair of them outline what it is they want to change in their relationship moving forward, ending the cycle for good.

Thank you for coming to my Ed talk.

#ofmd spoilers #ofmd s2 #izzy hands #edward teach #lucius spriggs #sprigghands #ofmd #our flag means death #stede bonnet #blackhands #edizzy #israel hands #thank you for coming to my ed talk

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drvirgus · 1 month

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The shooting Range

Idol! Minji X Athlete! Reader

Wc: 2k

One Shot

———————————————————————————

Focused, I stared at the target, my hand outstretched and holding the gun in the correct position. I closed one of my eyes, especially since I needed to train both. I took a deep breath and moved my finger to the trigger. As I exhaled, I fired. This was my 150th shot today.

I pressed the button in front of me, bringing the target towards me, and immediately focused on it. I used 5 shots per target. My eyes narrowed as I counted the points I obtained on this target. Unsatisfied with the result, I sighed and secured the gun, placing it back in its place.

"Y/n," I heard someone say, recognizing my coach. My hand, still holding the target, lowered as my back straightened. My eyes now on my coach, who smiled at me. I smiled back at the taller man. "Yes?" I asked, as he didn't start speaking.

"You need to stop your training," the older man said, furrowing my brow. My head tilted to the side as I saw another girl behind him. She was taller and seemed to be a bit more muscular. Her face also seemed quite familiar. Especially when she politely smiled at me.

My eyes refocused on my coach. "Why?" I asked with a furrowed brow and visibly tense shoulders. "I've only done 150 shots," I added, pointing to the targets next to the gun. My coach glanced briefly at the targets and then at me, sighing softly.

He gestured to the woman behind him. "This is Minji, and she and her team will be filming here shortly," my coach said, causing my eyes to glance at Minji again. "So what? Let them," I replied with a disapproving shrug of my shoulders. Minji seemed to smirk at that.

"You need concentration during your training, and I need to explain and show everything to Minji here. That would only distract you. Plus, you shouldn't be caught on camera during your training," my coach explained, which annoyed me even more. My eyes fell on Minji once again before I sighed.

„How long will it take?" I asked, slightly more annoyed as I placed the used target on the stack. Minii's eyes followed me, but I simply looked at my coach, who then turned to Minii. "Well, I'm not quite sure. Maybe 1-2 hours?" she asked. "We've already shot some footage," she added shortly after, glancing at the clock on the wall.

"What exactly is a K-Pop idol doing at a shooting range?" I asked as I crossed my arms over my chest. Minji chuckled at that as she looked down at me. Her eyes gleamed with a certain curiosity. "I've always wanted to try it," she replied with a smirk, which took all my strength not to roll my eyes.

"So, you're disrupting my training for that?" I asked, but my coach immediately interrupted me. His hand on the back of my head as he gently tapped it. Outraged, I looked at him with my mouth open as I rubbed the back of my head. Minji laughed at that. "If only it were Hanni," I muttered quietly, causing Minji to stop laughing.

"Oh? A fan?" she asked, pointing her finger at me. I shook my head and shrugged. "Not really. But it's hard not to know about you when almost all of Korea promotes you," I replied, which made Minji laugh even louder. She nodded. "But why Hanni, then?" she asked, making me blush a little.

Minji's eyebrows shot up, and she nodded understandingly. She bit her lip for a moment but then turned her head as one of her managers said something to her. Unfortunately, I couldn't really hear it as a sudden tinnitus started in my ears. I sighed. "Alright. I'll go grab something to eat. I'll be back in 2 hours," I said as I took the stack in my hand and placed the gun back in its place. "But you start over," my coach said sternly, causing me to roll my eyes.

———————————————————————————

With the pistol in my hand, I stared at the target. My eyes narrowed as I tried to concentrate. "And then, out of nowhere, Haerin grabbed my hand. It startled me so much that I stumbled backward into Danielle, pushing her into Hyein. In the end, we almost landed on Hanni. She saw her life flash before her eyes. She didn't even scream and would've just died silently,"

I sighed, lowering the pistol. With narrowed eyes, I looked at Minji, who was sitting relaxed beside me, occasionally reaching into the small bag of chips and popping one into her mouth. "Do I look like I want to chat?" I asked, causing Minji to visibly hesitate.

"Am I bothering you?" she asked, sounding a bit sadder as she looked at me from her seated position. Her doe eyes softened, making me swallow. It looked pretty cute...

"No, not at all," I tried to say with a sarcastic tone, but Minji interrupted me with a broad grin on her face. "Okay, good. Anyway," she continued, which made me sigh again.

Anyway... that was also good training. It was never completely quiet at competitions...

I lifted the pistol once again and tried to focus on the target while Minii continued to chew my ear off. It was weird. Minji came to the shooting range every Monday at exactly the same time. She would shoot for a few minutes next to me, and I had to admit she was really good, but for the rest of the hours, she just sat there and talked to me. All I wanted was to train in peace.

"Hanni said you're cute."

Startled, with widened eyes, I turned my head at lightning speed to Minji, completely missing my target as I accidentally fired. With nervous hands, I placed the pistol on the desk in front of me and looked at the taller woman with obvious interest. She seemed to notice, starting to giggle.

"Oh? Do you still have a crush on Hanni?" she asked, popping another chip into her mouth. Then she held out the bag to me. "Want some?" she asked, but I shook my head. "I don't have a crush on her. It's more... I find her cute. Like a little sister," I replied, which made Minji hum loudly. Her eyes roamed over my entire face. "But she's the same age as me. Does that mean you see me as a sister too?" Minji asked, standing up from her seat, immediately towering over me.

My eyes narrowed instantly. "Why are you standing up? Are you trying to prove something?" I asked, rolling my eyes. Minji laughed. "Let's go get some food. I'm hungry," the younger one replied with just a smile. My eyes fell on the bag of chips and then to Minji.

„I Can't. I have to train," I sighed, but Minii just smiled even wider. "You don't have to. That was your thousandth shot. You're done," she said, surprising me. "Since when do you stalk me? Don't you have better things to do as an idol?" I asked, sighing, which only made Minji laugh. The taller one looked at me with a smile as she took my hand. She shook her head slightly, causing her long black hair to sway from left to right.

"What's better than a date with you?" she asked, making me stutter. My mouth slightly opened. "Date?" I asked, which made Minji laugh even louder. "Of course. A friends date," she replied with a grin, making me blush slightly. My head lowered slightly. Of course, she didn't mean a real date...

I'm an idiot...

"No thanks. I have to do 500 more today," I replied, causing Minii to sigh in disappointment. Her eyes roamed over my entire face as I got back into position and lifted the pistol.

———————————————————————————

My eyes focused on the people who were talking loudly and laughing. My mouth shifted to the side as I bit the inside of my cheek. I could hear Minji laughing loudly and then she glanced at me. Her smile disappeared from her face, and I immediately stared back at the target. Minji was doing it on purpose. She knew I always trained at this time of day...

"Um. Excuse me?" I heard someone say shyly. My eyes widened as I noticed Hanni next to me. She had a pistol in her hand and held it firmly with both hands. I politely smiled. "Yes?" I asked as I briefly glanced at the pistol in her hand and then into her eyes.

"Could you explain this to me?" she asked, which surprised me even more. My eyes wandered back to Minji, who was currently teaching Danielle how to shoot. Hyein was just shooting without proper stance. With a smile on my face, I nodded. I gestured for her to use the desk next to me.

Quickly and carefully, I explained the key points to the equally tall person. I observed every movement and kept a safe distance. When she hit one of the targets, she looked at me with big, happy eyes, which made me smile contentedly. But my eyes kept wandering back to Minji, who seemed to be busy with the others.

I sighed in annoyance. "I hit it," Haerin's voice rang out as she threw herself into Minji’s arms. My forehead creased at the sight, and my mouth twisted into a disgusted look, of course without me noticing. Minji looked at me, her eyebrows raised.

I saw Minji start to giggle and slowly let go of Haerin. With a very relaxed, almost too slow pace, she came over to me. But my arms crossed over my chest, which only made Minji laugh even more.

"What?!" I asked, probably sounding a bit annoyed, but Minli didn't seem to mind at all. Her eyes wide as she looked first at Hanni, who was focusing on shooting, and then at me. "So? How's it going with your crush?" she asked with a grin, which only made me furrow my brow even more.

"Not good."

"Why not?" Minji asked, a grin on her face, her hands on her hips as she looked down at me. Her eyes were expectant as they met mine. "It's none of your business," I replied, annoyed, turning my back to her slightly. Minji laughed as she now covered her mouth with her hand. Feeling offended that she was really laughing at me, I gently hit her arm.

"My crush isn't going well either," I heard Minji say, which immediately made me roll my eyes. "Did I ask?" I retorted, which made Minji huff. "She doesn't even care about me," Minji continued, which only made me angrier.

So I started to ignore her. "Her training is always more important than looking at me. She didn't even want to go eat with me," Minji said, emphasizing each word. My expression twisted. Unaware that the taller one was talking about me, Minji continued, "Even though I visit her every Monday and spend a few hours with her."

Slowly furrowing my brow, I looked up at the younger person. She smiled gently at me, nodding slightly with her head. "Yes, Y/n. I'm talking about you," the younger one said, shocking me visibly. My mouth opened as my arms uncrossed from my chest.

I looked at the taller woman for a while.

"You... you said it was a friends' date."

"That was a lie. I didn't know you liked me."

"Neither did I."

"What?"

My head lowered as I felt my cheeks blush. Embarrassed, I laughed, "I... I didn't know I liked you either," I replied, which made Minji laugh a bit. Her cheeks were also visibly flushed. I took a deep breath.

"Do you-"

„Do you-"

Surprised that we spoke simultaneously, we both paused. Laughing, I looked at the younger one. "Do you want to go get something to eat? As... a date?" I asked, which immediately made Minji nod. Her smile turning to a big gummy smile.

"Definitely."

#newjeans minji #newjeans hanni #hanni pham #newjeans #danielle #haerin #newjeans hyein #minji x reader #kim minji #minji #nwjns minji #newjeans x reader

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yanderehsr · 6 months

Note

Hope you have a wonderful day and remember to take breaks every now and then! 😴

Unto the request, can I please request yandere high cloud quintet (Jingliu, Jing Yuan,Blade and Imbibitor Lunae) finding out that Baiheng had a descendant before she perished, that descended being the reader who bears a striking resemblance to her. I can just see the 4 of them being obsessed and overprotective of the reader.

-I just recently watched the cutscene for Jingliu’s companion quest and its so top tier

3 hours is plenty of sleep, sometimes I even get 4🥴

And I knoooow, that cutscene was truly top tier😆

Hope you'll enjoy😁

Trigger Warning: Yandere, Obsessive behaviour, Possessive behaviour, Kidnapping

Jingliu: Baiheng was her biggest regret, and now that she sees you who not only is her descendant but also look just like her, how could she help herself but to feel protective against you, and not only that but to possess you as well.

Jingliu's Mara-Struck mind makes her even more possessive over you, she can't help but fall into instincts around you even with her high resistance against the mara. She knows it's wrong, horrible of her even, but she has to admit, you look so pretty when you cry for her.

"Don't move, don't make me repeat myself... Baiheng would be disgusted with what I'm doing to you, but I can't find myself to care right now, you're mine and you will need to accept this"

Jing Yuan: He knows about you, he always had known about you as well, you are his secret, something he wouldn't even share with the rest of High-Cloud Quintet, you look so much like Baiheng that it's ridiculous. He has known you for so long that he doesn't even see Baiheng when he looks at you, he instead thinks Baiheng looks like you instead.

Jing Yuan hides you away from the world, what happened to Baiheng will not happen to you as well, you are locked away at his home, he treats you like you're above him, probably due to his guilt about Baiheng, he will guard you, you are safe with him and nothing will ever befall you, least of all death.

"It's almost uncanny how much you look like her... *sigh* Anyways, what do you want for dinner today, I'm cooking"

Blade: He doesn't see you as a descendant, no he thinks you are Baiheng, nothing can convince him otherwise. He never adresses you by your name, he always calls you Baiheng cus that's who you are, he thinks you have just lost your memories but that's okay, he will always be around to remind you of who you are.

Blade calls you that so many times that you may believe him yourself, I mean how can you know about what you have forgotten, and reincarnation is a thing that happens so maybe you really are Baiheng. Blade doesn't care what you think you are, all that is important is that Baiheng is back and you are all his.

"I am so sorry Baiheng for the past... but you are here now... yo-you make me feel whole and alive again, never leave my side ever again, okay"

Imbibitor Lunae: When Dan Heng is like this he starts to remember his past life a bit more clearly but there is one thing he can remember a bit clearer then others, he can remember Baiheng's face, and in turn he recognizes your face as soon as he sees you. Imbibitor Lunae knows that this isn't Baiheng but he still went to talk with you, you looked just like her, he couldn't help himself.

Imbibitor Lunae finds you to be a joy to talk to, not only that but he finds you beautiful as well, a look he has only caught in his dreams now stood before him, he can't help but fall, and he falls deep and hard... he wonders if he can convince you to join the express, otherwise he might need to use... unpleasant ways to get you onboard.

"You look heavenly, like a deity... isn't the view from the express lovely, I hope you'll get used to it, you will be seeing it a lot in the future"

#yandere #yandere honkai star rail #yandere hsr #yandere male #yandere female #yandere jingliu #yandere jingliu x reader #yandere jing yuan #yandere jing yuan x reader #yandere blade #yandere blade x reader #yandere imbibitor lunae #yandere imbibitor lunae x reader

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beaulesbian · 1 month

Text

[egghead spoilers, up to chapter 1110]

Sanji's humanity & Zoro's strength

(or lack thereof) - a theory of possible conflict between Luffy's wings before the end of Egghead arc. Long post ahead. Like.. very long post.

So the new chapter had a very interesting new "banter" between Sanji and Zoro, but no, actually just Sanji, because there was no usual back and forth quips followed after.

Yes, this whole post started because of these few panels: (" ...!!")

After rereading the chapter more times I realized, Sanji's not even speaking to Zoro or knows that Zoro can hear him. He's talking about Zoro, and calling him a burden to the team.

Which is just baffling to me? (fair, maybe I'm looking too much into it and next chapter it would be explained in different way) but for now, I need to put this out there and make my own small (long) theory on this.

There's lot to be said about the word burden here, and I will get to it later in the post, but for now, let's start with Sanji and his eyebrow!

It wouldn't be a perfect story if Oda didn't tangle threads of each respective characters from multiple arcs before and brought them up together later on during one of the most difficult times when Strawhats and Luffy are facing off with so much danger (reminds me of Sabaody but in a very different way).

In this instance Sanji's past could be brought up again, something that started worrying him since his fight with Queen in Wano, and especially given that his left eyebrow has been changing its shape quite a lot during the run of the Egghead arc.

Here's just few panels throughout end of Wano up to current Egghead chapter, where Sanji' left eyebrow is in the focus on the pages:

Chapter 1029 was the first part where Sanji was thinking his body might be undergoing some changes he couldn't control -broken bones insantly healed, stronger and faster than ever before, due to him beforehand using the Germa suit which possibly triggered this sort of superhuman modification he wasn't really aware of until then. When he realized he couldn't remember certain memories, he panicked, thinking he might be changing into something similar like his brothers, a scientific weapon created by his father. The worry and panic was all the more present because he thought he hurt someone without his knowing, and that'd slowly take away his kindness and sense of humanity. (Too bad I hoped the changes his body might be undergoing would only be realization of his non-cis gender status, but maybe that's still on the table for sometime in the future.):

^In this second panel his face is on purpose shadowed, which was the last time he was shown in that chapter,

and only again was in chapter 1031 - where his eyebrow changed:

and it takes him to think about Luffy and what his purpose would be if something so important of him would change. He knows why Luffy went after him in WCI, he knows what values are important for Luffy and his crew, and of course he doesn't want to be reminded of his family and his brothers and act as they did. He chooses the humanity, the kindness that Luffy loves in him.

Even to the extent to call Zoro and make a deal with him - to kill Sanji if anything would go wrong with him. "If I'm not in my right mind, I want you to kill me." That much trust he has in Zoro to protect the crew and Luffy!

Of course Zoro wouldn't do anything reckless without a good reason, but part of their banter and understanding each other would be to promise something like that - echo of Thriller Bark and the range of how far Zoro would go to take on someone elses pain. It's a promise to win their separate fights, but also this was something that Sanji put out there for Zoro to take notice of. (I will come back to that later.):

(still the "bad eyebrow" - he had that the whole chapter 1031).

After his fight with Queen (where it was also cleared what his actions were and weren't), he was only shown two times until he woke up, and both times he had his eyebrow back on good side.

1036 & 1044 (hearing Luffy awaken his powers):

All the way up to Egghead he seemed to have his eyebrow drawn this way, and it started to change only during fights -

ch 1075, still good eyebrow, tho.. ehh this behavior.. whatever:

ch. 1078, protecting his crew from Seraphim, bad eyebrow:

in between chapters 1090 - 1105 (most of which were flashbacks and Sanji nor Strawhats were shown) he appeared with his typical eyebrow:

and it changed again in ch 1107 - when he was again protecting Bonney / fighting against Kizaru:

interesting was chapter 1108 where he's standing between Saturn and Vegapunk, and he's describing Saturn with "he's less and less human by the minute" while his own face was obscured, (I mean.. interesting choice of words and what character said it, huh?):

and the next page he still has the bad eyebrow:

in chapter 1109 it's back on his typical side, where it continues from previous chapter of Sanji carrying Vegapunk- so at some point it must have shifted back (and I'm curious if these changes would be noticable in the animation). At this part he's watching how Saturn is summoning the other Gorosei to Egghead:

Which leads me to the point from above with Zoro.

chapter 1110 and their interactions (for me) was just off. I like their usual banter and bickering, it's funny (if it's in the manga and contained to few panels to make sense, not so much in the anime, but i'm not going into that now), but the thing to call anyone of their crew a "burden" just doesn't fit right. (Especially after WCI... c'mon Sanji, and especially to someone like Zoro, who's always the first one to think about the crew.)

I would understand it if he laughed along with the words to elevate their seriousness, or said something like "Finish it up, Mosshead, we need to get moving." but no. He calls him a burden. And again as I mentioned, it pretty much could have been even Sanji not realizing Zoro can hear that.

These words (in my opinion) were chosen on purpose for multiple reasons:

First we have the Zoro vs Lucci fight that goes on for a while in the real world - in the One Piece world it might be just few minutes - plus we don't know how tough were the fights with the Seraphim which let others be injured.

When Lucci attacked, Zoro immediately thrown himself with him away from the rest of the crew. Zoro was possibly stalling with the fight for time to leave. I feel he could have finished that fight earlier but that wasn't the point. The point might have been to hold him back from his crew.

also this was possibly the only fight after King where Zoro could test the limits of his powers and haki, just like Luffy in the Udon prison in Wano was basically training, this (and the Seraphim fights we haven't seen) could be something similar for Zoro.

Some people think that just because of these characters getting new powers it means they already understand how to use them/how it works, but that's usually not the point of how stories go - there can be progress and there can be setbacks, growing up but also falling back down, which makes the stories more interesting.

The words that Lucci used against Zoro were basically the same thing that Sanji said to Zoro few chapters later:

Amongst them he pointed out the Strawhats inability to cut off one of their own out of their crew to save others - like Lucci left Kaku behind just chapters before this fight when he attacked Vegapunk and Stussy (and Sanji trapped Kaku in the bubble prison). It's a play on very different characters and how they think and act to show clearly how they different they are.

The words burden or dead-weight really stood out, already when Lucci said it in chapter 1107, and the fact that they were targetting Zoro - someone who always blames himself (in his mind, not usually out loud) for not being strong enough, and someone who always has protecting his crew at the first place, was interesting in the connection to Sanji repeating basically the same words in the latest chapter.

I will probably make a different separate post only focusing on Zoro and his fear of being weak, but for the purposes of this post, just to pick a few moments where it's important in the manga:

One of the first time I've noticed how much Zoro keeps berating himself with words like "not strong enough" "too lax" "still too soft" "if I'd been stronger/ faster/ better..."

was just after Little Garden arc, where he almost cut off his ankles just to keep fighting. Time after time the crew encounters strong enemies and Zoro gets a new understanding how far up is the limit that he has to reach to keep the crew safe, so he keeps training. ch. 129:

When Luffy went to fight Crocodile and Zoro was worried and kept training on the way to Alubarna, this banter between Sanji and Zoro felt typical between them - it's about the two way street, the back and forth (that's why that new chapter and insult from Sanji feels so foreign, there's no reply, not quip back - only silence and some sort of determination, which isn't good nor bad, just.. weird.) ch. 179:

and after the final fight of Alabasta, possibly one of the first times I really started paying attention to how much it gets to Zoro, this question of how strong he needs to be. (along with what possibly was one of the first introduction of his haki and how he began training the Observation haki, disguised as meditation in the terms of the early manga) ch. 213:

Thriller Bark was one of the biggest arcs in this sense of Zoro and his protectiveness towards the crew and Sanji knows that - he knows what happened there, he even wanted to sacrifice himself in stead of Zoro for Luffy (but this is beside the point here, and I talked about it in other post before).

Zoro took on himself Luffy's pain, and after that arc he still went right to train as soon as he could despite being still injured, ch. 490. "still too weak!"

which goes through to Sabaody arc.

Chapter 510 until the end of that arc is just painful to go through again. Luffy was worried for Zoro and didn't know the scope of his injuries, while Sanji knew and was concerned in his own way too - that is another thing of how they care, sometimes wordlessly but there is that understanding of what to mention or not. ("Burden" still shouldn't be one of the words to use between them, not that far into the story.)

Now - fast forward to Punk Hazard where one of similar moments played out - Zoro telling Luffy not to goof around because they got in the New world and needed to take things seriously.

It was one of those small moments where Sanji was actually one of the few people shown with reaction to Zoro's words and his urgency, ch 678:

Sanji saying "He's so tough on himself" really puts into perspective how he sees Zoro - he knows what he's been through, and knows to what extremes he's willing to go to protect his crew.

He's definitely not someone who would carelessly call Zoro "a burden" even in the time and place and situation they found themselves on Egghead, if anything, he was supposed to be one of the first ones to know how serious is Zoro always about protecting the crew. (Even in the beginning of Egghead, Zoro stayed at first on the Sunny because "who will save them when they will need saving.")

There's few others scenes and parts where Zoro questions his worth and strength, especially in later Wano, calculating what needs to be done so they have strength to face off with Kaido, ch 980:

and later against King, ch 1033 "it was my strength that was lacking!" while unlocking his Conqueror's haki, still unknowingly:

The fact that it's been happening pretty much since the beginning of the story - how Zoro views himself as not strong enough, yet persisting in always getting stronger and protecting his crew - means so much for what character Zoro is and how much he values and loves his crew (just like all the other Strawhats in different ways), and also, as I've been catching up so quickly with the manga, there's been that hope for some call out of this behavior, to poke it where it hurts, to see what would happen if someone turns those words Zoro possibly feels in his mind against him out loud. And that's kind of what's been happening lately - and I'm curious what impact will this have on both Zoro personally and on the other Strawhats, depending who will be around for the conclusion.

Zoro is one of the few strawhats really thinking about the future, plans and what they need to still fight through, carefully calculating what his opponents might be doing, how strong they are and how much of a problem it would be to go through them.

And Sanji normally understands that, he knows how Zoro works and the other way around, that's why he still protected him when Zoro was injured, (if anything, in this moment Zoro could have been something like hinderance or annoyance to Sanji, yet he never said something like that), ch. 1015:

Even on Egghead, where there was temporary truce with Lucci and Kaku, Zoro pointed out how to recognize the Seraphim's weaknesses, and apologized for 'wasting their stamina' - again, calculating on his strength, ch. 1077:

Zoro isn't just fighting for the sake of a fight, he does have his dream and does know what's important to focus on (he himself always keeps the crew in focus when it's important!)

So it's difficult to have a conclusion about the whole Zoro vs Lucci fight without knowing what is Zoro thinking - hopefully in next chapter we will have more info on it (that is number 1111 - Zoro's birthday and bounty! so I hope it will be a big focus on Zoro again). But even beside that, it was obvious in such short time two people around him suddenly called him a burden to his team - something he takes very close to his heart and mind, something that will hopefully have some consequences for us to see and read, because as Oda is choosing words definitely carefully to have the right impact, two very similar words like "burden" don't seem like a coincidence.

To wrap this up - with Sanji telling this to Zoro felt different than their usuall banter, and as I said before - maybe because Sanji wasn't even speaking to Zoro. At the same time, on Wano Sanji gave Zoro a clue that somehting was happening with him, the fact that there was a panel with just Zoro's ear twitching and then being silent, thinking, and not replying to Sanji with anything that would hint to us about his state of mind, and it could mean he's also aware of some difference in Sanji's acting.

The way he says this reminds me of the what Sanji was thinking during his fight with Queen - "what would be more useful to Luffy, regular flesh-and-blood body? Or a cruel, cold emotionless warrior of science." Even for this small part of seeing him speak with Jimbei and hearing what Zoro was up to until then, he speaks without almost any emotions beside anger? Even with his eyebrow not indicating the change, precisely, it doesn't have to be connected in this way, except physical fights, but there could be something still changing within Sanji to make him act this way, a way that really isn't something we've seen before. I think if in next chapters he speaks to Nami, Robin or some other woman without his typical over-the-top pleasanteries, it could indicate how much of a problem this could be for the Strawhats.

So we have Sanji's need to stay human and kind, the pact created with Zoro to kill him if anything felt wrong; and we have Zoro - someone who's biggest purpose from the beginning was to protect the crew and Luffy, while many times we've seen him question his own strength, and now two people in the span of like 5 minutes in the One Piece time are calling him a burden.

It will be interesting to see if this is heading towards a clash or conflict between Luffy's wings while Luffy needs the support to fight / flee from the Gorosei.

To end this too long post, I feel it's very on point for One Piece not to have a sole focus on just one character going through it™ in one arc, but it's always a few crumbs here and few hints there. This sort of conflict would be perfect to deal with both of Zoro and Sanji's respective fears - because this is very much about fears in their minds, while at the same time if they can resolve this, it would only strengthen their crew once again.

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ftmtftm · 9 months

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This isn't something I have fully articulated thoughts on yet but honestly? I really do think that transandrophobia and the way people who talk about their experiences with it are isolated is, in part, why transmedicalism existed (exists still? I'm very detached from that discourse now) as a primarily trans man/trans masc dominated ideology.

I'm going to share my own experience and I can only speak for myself here, but when I was a really isolated late teen/early 20-something dealing with a lot of unresolved trauma re: my assault (that happened as a result of me coming out as trans to an ex), some immediate family's reaction to my transition being "well why can't you just be a masculine woman", and frustration about not being able to medically transition yet combined with the mid-2010's pressure to be a non-threatening feminine soft boy, I got sucked into transmedicalism.

I do want to be upfront and recognize a lot of my feelings at the time were a trauma response and projection. I recognize this now but I had no resources to recognize that then. I just want to make it clear from the start that I know my own thinking was flawed, that's why I'm reflecting on it openly so others can potentially recognize something that resonates here within themselves and grow.

Getting back into it though- I felt really triggered all the time in general trans spaces because of that 2010's culture. I felt pressured to be feminine or a woman in trans spaces online, just like I did around my ex or at home. I didn't want to undercut my masculinity or manhood for other people's comfort, especially not for other trans people who I felt should've understood. In contrast to this though, transmedicalist spaces and the trans men within them DID actually offer the support I was asking for. I was actually given space to talk about my assault and the pressures I was experiencing with a bunch of other trans men/trans mascs who understood it for the first time, ever really.

The idea of "there is a medical explanation for gender dysphoria that can be treated with medical transition" was also really comforting to my traumatized mind that kept thinking "if I'm open about my assault someone is going to accuse me of just being traumatized and not actually trans, if medicine is on my side I can prove them wrong" Which - let me be clear again - was a very traumatized way of thinking. I do not think that way anymore thanks to therapy and cultivating a healthier relationship with my body and gender and transness. I was not the only trans man with a history of assault that felt this way in the transmed community at the time though.

And I'm not justifying any of this ideologically right? Like. Transmedicalism is fundamentally flawed and incorrect in many of its ideas about sex, gender, and gender identity. Many people who believe in transmed ideology spout some absolutely horrible, transphobic bullshit on the regular and often align their ideology with conservatism and TERFs. I'm not here to defend transmedicalism.

What I am saying is this: It makes sense that a group of ostracized individuals who felt like they had no space to express their traumas would cling onto transmedicalism because it was the only ideological community giving them space to talk about it. Hate movements thrive on preying upon those kinds of vulnerable, traumatized people.

I'm just thinking about a lot of the friends I met via transmedicalism back then and now they're all either TERFs with a lot of repressed trauma and internalized transphobia that I've since cut off completely or they had a similar realization to myself and discovered their attachment to transmedicalism was rooted in trauma and a desire for trans masc community, addressed it, and now they live much healthier, happier lives.

I'm losing steam fast thinking about all of this because recounting trauma takes a physical toll on one's body BUT tl;dr I really do think if we had healthier spaces to address trans male/trans masculine traumas within the wider trans community via conversations about transandrophobia back 5+ years ago we wouldn't fully be here now wrt: how large transmedicalism became as a movement. I genuinely think I wouldn't have been sucked into that space if there had been more resources and space to talk about the experiences I was having, all of which are things people naming transandrophobia are trying to address in healthy manners.

I think healthy, open, conversations about transandrophobia in wider community spaces can do so much good to protect people who were in vulnerable positions like I was and can absolutely potentially prevent more people from getting sucked into the false support offered by hate movements within our own community.

#transandrophobia #transmisandry #transmedicalism #discourse /#long post /#ftm #trans masc #trans man #original post #first post too wooo !! i figured i should make myself a space to actually talk about this stuff so i stop bothering my gf 💀#she's cool with it i'm just autistic and talk a lot and knows she needs breaks lmao

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avatar-anna · 1 year

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Hiii can you please write a blurb where its hockey player h getting jealous? It can be at a party or maybe at one of figure skater y/ns competitions?

i did that thing where i took an ask in a different direction, so if this was your request, message me and i'll do an actual jealous fic! i apologize, i was feeling angsty, protective boyfriendrry🤭🤭

trigger warnings: light depictions of sa, coping with sa

i don't pretend to know what it's like to be a victim/survivor or sexual assault, so if there is something that you may find offensive or unrealistic or glorified, please know that was not my intention. feel free to message me if you take issue with this fic, and i'll take it down.

all the love💕💕

"Do you wanna get out of here?"

You were quick to shake your head, stepping away from the guy you'd been talking to. It was just a conversation, nothing more, one you didn't even really want to be having in the first place. But the guy had cornered you in the fraternity's kitchen, and you were looking for a polite way out.

"Uh...no. I'm actually here with my boyfriend," you said.

You hoped that would be the end of it, but instead of backing off he stepped closer. "You don't have to play hard to get, Y/n. I'm already into you, so come on."

Dread started to fill your belly. Peeking over the guy's shoulder, you saw that you were the only ones in the kitchen, and with the loud music playing throughout the house, no one would hear you if you needed to call for help. You hoped you wouldn't need to, but it was all you could think about as he leaned in.

"No," you said, trying to sound firm despite your trembling voice. "I said no, so if you'll excuse me—Get off m—!"

His hand was on your wrists and pushed you roughly into the wall hard enough to hurt. While you were still in a daze from being shoved, he made his move. His mouth, which was not at all like Harry's, was on yours before you could say anything. The guy tasted like stale beer, and his tongue kept trying to push past your tightly closed lips. Your skin crawled every place he touched—under your shirt and skirt, the inside of your thigh—and every time he whispered in your ear and his breath unfurled across your neck. You wanted to call out or push him off but you couldn't. You never thought you would be in this position, and now you were, and you just...froze.

When his lips moved to your neck, you whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut and hoping if you stayed still enough your mind might drift elsewhere. "Please," you whimpered one last time, willing yourself to push back, but you couldn't make yourself move.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Harry's voice, that was Harry's voice. For a moment, you thought his angry tone was pointed at you, that he thought he'd caught you cheating.

"Nothing, man, leave us alone. We're—"

Things were a blur after that, but all you knew was the guy wasn't on you anymore and you felt exposed. The skirt you had carefully tucked into your skirt at the start of the evening was rucked up, the neckline pulled down. You kept your eyes closed, tears slipping out as you listened to the sound of a fight, of someone getting shoved against a wall and plates or cups crashing and fists connecting with skin. You didn't want to cry, you felt stupid for crying, but the tears wouldn't stop.

"Harry, please."

"Shut up!"

Your eyes stayed squeezed shut, but you could hear the altercation coming to an end as more people came into the kitchen, most likely pulling Harry and the other guy apart. Feeling someone crowd your space again, you tensed and shook your head, completely terrified.

"Hey, it's just me. It's just me, love. Can you open your eyes for me?" Harry said, his voice the softest you'd ever heard it.

Slowly, you blinked your eyes open, more tears spilling out. "I promise I didn't—"

"None of that, baby. I know what happened. You don't have to explain," he said. Harry reached out to gently push a strand of hair out of your face, but you flinched. "Sorry. I—Should I get Kate? She's here somewhere. I'll—Let me text her."

Kate came in minutes, and she quickly ushered you out of the party and into her car. Everything felt like white noise, and you were seeing without really seeing. You knew Harry was there and keeping his distance, but you just wanted to go home, be alone. So Kate drove you, got you into bed and slept on the couch in the living room, making sure to lock the door when you started to cry and hyperventilate because she'd forgotten.

The next morning you felt marginally better, but not great, and the day after that was more of the same. On the third day, you felt comfortable enough to get out of bed, to shower and scrub at your skin until it was rubbed raw. You were shaken up, but you felt like you were back in your body again. That night you did everything in your power to not be where you were mentally. A few days later, you were more aware once again, not so scared or skittish, but that only meant the memories and the feelings you were keeping at bay returned in full force.

"Harry's at the door. Wants to check in," Kate said, poking your head into your room. You'd been up for a couple hours, watching TV on your laptop after you finally stepped out of the shower, but you hadn't come out of your room yet, hadn't said a word to anyone. Hadn't spoken to Harry since the party. "He's been coming here for the last three days, and I've been holding him off, but—He's worried about you."

You knew he was worried. He called and texted until your phone died, and then he resorted to emails. Harry hardly even checked his email unless he had to message a professor about a late assignment, but he'd been emailing you relentlessly when you didn't answer your phone.

"Did he...hit that guy?" you asked, recalling bits and pieces from that night.

"Did a little more than just hit him, but well-deserved in my opinion," Kate muttered. "Was like one of those brawls he gets into on the ice at games except he had a good center of gravity. That piece of shit didn't stand a chance."

You didn't know how to feel about that. You were well aware that Harry got into fights at his hockey games, you always rolled your eyes when he got sent to the penalty box after shoving a player into plexiglass or taking a swing when she should've skated back to his position. And he was the jealous type, you were well aware of that. Sometimes Harry would glare or kiss your neck when he thought guys stared too long. He was protective and jealous, but a sweetheart on the inside, and part of you liked how strongly he felt for you and that he wasn't afraid to show it. Now...you didn't know how to feel.

"He...He can come in."

Kate nodded and left your room. A minute later, she was back with Harry. He had a split lip and dark bags under his eyes, but other than that, he looked fine. Kate was right, Harry seemed to take care of that guy without much trouble.

"Hi," he said, stepping inside your bedroom. Kate closed the door once he did, leaving the two of you alone.

"Hi."

"How—How are you?" he asked then frowned. "That was a stupid question. Sorry, I—"

"I'm okay. Not okay, but better, I guess."

"Good. That's—That's good. I'm glad. I was worried about you. Couldn't sleep."

Harry's hands were tucked into his back pockets as he leaned back and forth on his heels, his eyes struggling to pick something to focus on. He was nervous, you realized.

"You can sit down," you said, bringing your knees up to your chest so he could have space to sit on your bed.

"Right thanks."

He approached the bed, sitting down on the very edge. His hands stayed in his lap, foot tapping rapidly. Your eyes narrowed, a hand reaching out to take one of his hands in yours before you could think much of it. Harry's knuckles were cut up, reddish-purple bruises covering his skin. Ever so gently, you ran a finger over the bruises.

"It looks worse than it feels," he said, probably lying. "I know how you feel about fighting, but I couldn't let him get away with that. He—I saw red, and—Sorry, we don't need to talk about me."

"I didn't think anyone would come," you said. "We were just talking, and then all of a sudden we were alone and the music was so loud. I—I didn't think anyone would've heard me."

"I'm sorry I wasn't there. I went to the bathroom and went looking for you, I—I should've—"

"I don't blame you for not being there," you said. "You were there. I was just so scared, and I—I froze, I couldn't move, and I was so—"

"Hey, it's okay," he said. Harry tried to reach for you, but you pulled back. "I'm sorry I don't want to make you uncomfortable by touching you. I can go—"

"I have bruises on my wrists," you said, pulling the sleeves of her sweatshirt over your hands. "And I don't want to feel ashamed, and I know I shouldn't feel ashamed, but—but I do. I feel ashamed of what happened."

When you began to sniffle, Harry looked like he wanted to come closer, but he stayed put. "Can I?"

You gave him a small nod, and he gently took your left wrist in his hands. His touch was so delicate, you didn't even think he was capable of being that gentle. Harry pushed your sweatshirt back, and you quickly turned your head to the side, not wanting to see the bruised fingerprints on your wrists. You felt his thumb brush over the skin, and when your skin began to crawl, your shoulders tensed, and his thumb stopped.

"I went to the school board," he said. "The dean, or whatever. I told them what happened. I—I didn't mention your name, but I told them what happened so that...he could get expelled or reprimanded or something."

Your head had been resting on your knees, but at that, you looked at him. "You did?"

"Yeah, I—I'm sorry if I overstepped, but I couldn't just let him get away with it," he said.

You didn't know what to say. You'd been officially dating for a few weeks now, a little over a month, and things were still new, still fresh. But you liked this new relationship, and you didn't want what happened at the party to get in the way of something so good with Harry.

"I don't feel great, and I may have taken like a hundred showers since, but I think I just want...I think I could use a hug."

"I love hugs," Harry said, a small smile on his face.

You pushed the corner of your bedspread back to let him in, and Harry was quick to kick off his shoes and join you. His body was warm, the smell of his clothes perfect, his cheek against yours perfect. He was perfect. You felt comfortable in your own skin again with him next to you.

"And I could use a movie buddy," you said, opening your laptop again, firing up a rom-com.

"You've been pestering me to watch this with you," he mumbled against your temple. "But I'll watch anything if it means I get to hold you like this."

You blushed and squeezed his hand tight. Harry hissed a little, which made you mumble an apology before gently kissing his knuckles.

"I do hate when you fight," you mumbled, opening up your laptop again. "But this time it was deserved. If I have bruises, so should he. And I'm—I'm glad you told someone. Thank you."

"I wish I had been there," he said quietly, taking your hand in his and kissing your wrist gently. "I should have been there."

You knew both of you could go around in circles about hypotheticals about that night, but it would be no use. Something horrible happened, and you wouldn't forget it, and neither would he. But the bruises would fade soon, and Harry was there for you, and so was Kate, and you would be okay. When he kissed your wrist, your shoulders tensed, but your skin didn't crawl, and when he rested his arm on your waist, you felt safe, not trapped, and when he asked if you wanted to get dinner when the credits of the movie rolled, you found yourself saying yes.

"This might be everything that happened and my emotions might be all over the place, so take this with a grain of salt. In the nicest way," you said. "But I think I might be in love with you."

Harry chuckled and helped you out of bed, waiting by the door as you slipped into a pair of sneakers. You didn't bother changing out of your sweats, even though you had to hike up the sweatpants you were wearing every few seconds because they were Harry's. Both of you were more than familiar with walking around in comfy clothes after practice or a training session. You were probably headed to McDonald's and back to your apartment for another movie anyway.

"Then I'll wait to tell you I'm in love with you in a month when we're on a proper date. Until then, shall we?"

"I don't want to feel like this."

"I know."

"I shouldn't feel like this," you said, pulling Harry's covers up to your chest.

"You're allowed to have all the feelings you want, Y/n," Harry said softly, careful to keep his distance on the narrow bed. "We can wait. I don't mind just laying next to you."

"Yeah?" you asked, getting teary eyed for an entirely different reason.

"However long it takes."

You sniffled and reached for his hand, which he took. "Sorry about the uh... unfinished business."

"That? Can't even feel it," he said.

"Liar," you said, laughing a little. "But it makes you a reeeaaly good boyfriend."

Harry kissed the top of your head. "And it'll be reeeaaly worth the wait."

You laughed even louder, even fuller, this time, flicking him on the nose. "Pig."

Harry teased and joked with you, but on the inside, he felt relief. You'd come out of your room and gone back to class the last couple weeks, but you weren't quite yourself. You stayed covered up from head to toe, you stayed home on the weekends, and your heart wasn't in your training. You went and you were brilliant, but Harry could tell. He'd watched you enough to know if your heart was in it, and it wasn't.

So he learned when to be a shoulder to cry on and when to make jokes to make you laugh and when to put on your favorite movie. Harry had never been in this position before, he never thought he would ever be in this position before. But he didn't imagine you did either, so he tried his best.

He wasn't worried, though. You were in therapy and going to class and getting good grades and you didn't flinch anymore when people tried to touch you. Friends, anyway, sometimes strangers startled you. Progress was progress, though. Some areas were better than others, though. Since the party, you and Harry hadn't had sex, hadn't even kissed on the lips. You held hands and Harry kissed your head and cuddled on the couch or a bed, but it didn't go much further than that. And you were fully clothed each time.

But he was more than willing to wait. Harry knew taking time was important and he hadn't put pressure on you to do anything. It was you who wanted to do more tonight. You thought you were ready, you insisted that you were ready, but when Harry tried to take your top off, you pushed him away, feeling sick to your stomach.

"You'll get there. We'll get there," Harry promised, going over to his dresser to get a shirt. He tossed it to you, wanting you to be as comfortable in a t-shirt instead of the top you'd worn out tonight. He grabbed one for himself and was halfway into it when you stopped him.

"Could you maybe just—"

"What?" He asked, coming over to the bed where you were still covered up.

"It's stupid," you said.

"I can promise you it's not."

Blowing out a large sigh, you looked at him. "Could you maybe just not wear a shirt?"

"Of course," Harry said immediately. He shrugged out of the one he just put on and slid into bed next to you. "Not stupid at all."

"I just want...to feel you, but I don't want—"

"To do anything more. I understand."

So Harry let you position him just how you wanted on his bed, making sure not to accidentally lean or lay on your hair. Your hands were feather-light on him, like you were barely touching him at all.

Sometimes, late at night when you were fast asleep, Harry would feel inexplicably angry. Not at you, never at you. At that guy for hurting you the way he did, for violating you in a way that was still affecting you when he probably hadn't thought about it since. Harry could tell you looked for him when you were on campus together. Your eyes flitted to each face that passed you by, squeezing Harry's hand when you saw similar hair or frame. You were terrified to see him again, and seeing the panicked look on your face when you thought you did enraged Harry even more.

But there wasn't much he could do except wait. Wait for you to heal, wait for the storm to pass, wait to kiss you again. All of it was worth it, you were worth it, but sometimes he thought there was something he could've done to prevent all of this.

"You can stop beating yourself up, you know," you said out of the blue.

"What?"

"Don't think I don't know that look, Harry," you said, leaning up on your elbow to look at him. "I have never blamed you for what happened."

"I just wish I could help," he said, feeling his shoulders release tension they'd been holding since that night.

"You are. I don't know how to explain it, but I promise you are," you said, and that relaxed something in Harry too.

He was about to put on another movie when an idea came to him. "Get up."

"What?"

"Get up. I have an idea," he said, slipping back into his t-shirt and a hoodie.

Curious, you followed his lead, putting on shoes and letting him lead you to your car. "The rink," he said quietly, and even though you knew it was closed for the night, you went anyway. Harry didn't say anything, but you weren't really up for conversation anyway. You felt bad that you'd become a burden to Harry, that instead of a girlfriend he got...you. You wanted to be okay again, you wanted him to kiss you and feel you, you wanted to do more than just fall asleep next to him. But you just couldn't get his touch out of your head. You felt dirty and overexposed, and you weren't sure if you'd ever not feel that way again. You weren't sure if you should be selfish and keep Harry shackled to you while you found out.

"Come on," he said when you parked in the empty lot. It was almost midnight, which meant there were no more practices, no more games or private training sessions. It was just you and Harry.

He pulled out a set of keys from his pocket, taking you by surprise when one slid into the lock with ease. The front door to the rink opened, cold air immediately hitting you as you stepped inside.

"Why do you have keys to the rink?"

"Being captain of the hockey team has its perks," Harry said with a shrug. "Come on, I want to show you something."

You followed him back to the boy's locker rooms, and past that to where the rink stored the equipment they rented out to local teams or families who wanted to start training their kids but didn't know what to buy yet. Harry grabbed a hockey stick, not quite as big as the one he used, and then a bigger one, and a few pucks.

"Do you have spare skates in your locker?"

"Of course."

"They'll do. We're not gonna actually play," he said, but he wasn't looking at you as he pulled out small nets from the back of the storage room.

When he had everything, he told you to grab yours and his skates while he set up the rink, not giving you a chance to respond. You did as he asked, using the combination he gave you before leaving the locker room to cross over to the girl's. Your spares were old, and the blades could've used a tune up, but they were comfortable and would hopefully work for whatever Harry had planned.

You quickly got into your skates and got on the ice, handing Harry's over once you reached him. "I think you need to get angry, and I think you need a way to just let it all out," he said as he laced up his own skates, which were much clunkier than yours. "So I'm gonna teach you how to shoot, and we'll go from there, okay?"

"Harry, I don't think—"

"Do you trust me?" he asked, looking at you like he wasn't actually sure if you did.

"Yes," you said almost immediately.

"Then let me help you do this."

So you did.

Harry showed you the basics of shooting a hockey puck at the net. He made it look so easy, so effortless, but when it was your turn, you hardly made the puck move. But Harry was patient, quietly telling you what you did wrong and helping you adjust your stance. Eventually, you got the hang of it, and when you hit the first puck with force, you didn't stop.

Harry had been right, you needed an outlet for everything you were feeling, and each swing of the hockey stick had you feeling more than just uncomfortable in your own skin or scared or sorry for yourself. You were furious that this happened to you, that you couldn't do anything to stop it, that this person left you feeling weak and broken. All of that anger went into your movements, and everything else fell away, including Harry, who hadn't said a word since you got the hang of it.

You didn't know how long you stayed on the rink, all you knew was the stick in your hand and the ice beneath your skates. It wasn't until Harry tapped you on the shoulder that you finally stopped. Your cheeks felt flushed and you were breathing heavily, but you felt good, and you hadn't felt good since that night.

"Your arms are gonna be sore tomorrow," Harry explained, taking the hockey stick before skating around to gather up the other equipment. When he made his way back to you, you were still huffing and puffing. Gently, Harry reached out and brushed a thumb across your cheek, then the other. You didn't even realize you'd been crying. "How do you feel?"

"Different," you said. "Like I could sleep forever."

Grinning, Harry said, "Then let's get you back."

Harry had been right, your arms were already starting to feel like jello. You were worn out, but in a good way. You and Harry walked back to the car in silence, though when you looked over at him, he had a small smile on his face.

"What?"

"Nothing, it's just the way you were hitting the puck," he said, shaking his head, curls falling into his eyes. He hadn't gotten a haircut recently, and now his hair curled past his ears and touched the collar of his shirt.

"What? Do I play like a girl?" you teased.

"No, but, like, you're really graceful about it. It's not a bad thing, just different."

"Well, maybe I could teach you a thing or two about grace," you said, leaning into his side. The rest of the walk to the car was quiet, like both of you were stuck in your own heads. But when you started the car to go back to his place, you said, "Thank you. You've been...more patient than other people might've been, I think."

"You don't have to thank me for being a good friend," Harry said. "You would've done the same for me."

He was right. If something traumatic happened to him, you would've been bending over backwards to help him. Somewhere down the line, you cared enough about him that you would be devastated if he was hurt in any way. It would've hurt you to see him hurt.

"When I'm ready...you're in for a treat," you said, trying to lighten the mood. You didn't want to feel like you were shrouded by a dark cloud anymore. "

Almost like he knew what you were trying to do, Harry played along. "Oh yeah? What can I expect?"

"That would ruin the surprise."

You saw Harry shake his head in your periphery, but it was an amused shake.

This felt right, the teasing and flirting. It felt normal. You weren't one hundred percent okay, but for the first time since that night, you believed that you would be, and Harry knew it too.

#harry styles #hockey player!harry styles #ice skater!y/n #harry styles blurb #harry styles au #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles angst #boyfriendrry

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wanderlust-in-my-soul · 3 months

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Hi, I'm new to BL.

Have watched kiseki, the Japanese drama with the unlucky student, and now Pit Babe. I'm bored with too innocent dramas and I prefer adult story lines with good chemistry. Do you have some favorites from recent years? Would love to look up some titles.

The hornier the better 😉

Uhhh, nice ask! For the answer I made up two categories: the ones with mature storylines and the horny ones. Of course, the two categories overlap in places, but the categorisation was helpful for me for a better horny classification 😅 There are incredibly good series for both groups. And I'm happy to talk about them.

Let's start with the mature ones. And just so you know, this is going to be a very long list 😅

The Mature-List

180 Degree Longitute Passes Through Us

This series had us under its peculiar spell in 2022. I would rate the horny scale at 1/10, the chemistry between the two mains is terrific and the tension cutting, but that's not what this theatrical masterpiece is about. It's about acceptance, grief, guilt and the fact that all of this can either destroy you or make you grow and emerge stronger. Highly recommended.

Ghost Host, Ghost House

The series starts off rather funny and strange and develops over time into a profound story about grief, letting go and healing. It's all somewhat broken up by a love story with incredibly good chemistry and very nice NC scenes. These two can kiss! And yet nothing is easy and grief takes time and only when you have been able to mourn you can heal.

Goodbye, Mother

Nau Van travels back to his home country of Vietnam with his partner. Instead of telling the family that they are a couple, they are caught in the middle of a family drama. The film is very emotional, the characters are well drawn and the story told is touching and well written. If you want to watch something different from the "standard" series, you've definitely come to the right place. Highly recommended, but watch out for triggers such as violence and homophobia.

Happy Ending Romance

I would go out on a limb and say that the gif may be a little misleading here. On a horny scale, the series would be in the lower range. But it's still quite progressive for Korea. The story is very intricate and you have to be careful not to miss anything. An aspiring writer, disappointed and deceived by the publishing world, hides behind his own walls and those built by his partner, a well-known and celebrated author. Until a young publisher sneaks into our writer's life and tries to lure him out of hiding so that the world can experience his genius. Maybe it's the fact that it's about publishing and writing or because I just think the publisher with his fuzzy head and sunshine smile is so cute, but I loved the series!

I Feel You Linger In The Air

Horny? At times, yes. Mature? Definitely. A tragic story set in a past in which homosexuality was frowned upon and the male descendant was expected to take over the business and live his life according to the ideas of the head of the family. And that's where our protagonist Jom, a heartbroken young man from the current century, is thrown in by an accident. He meets Yai, a young man with whom he shares a very special bond. The chemistry between these two is outstanding and the characters are so well written. Such a beautiful series!

Innocent

I must admit, I was a little bit confused when I first started this miniseries. I put it to the side and some time later I started it again. And it finally clicked. It's not an easy series and yet it can give you back your faith in love and trust. Yu Shi has some really bad trauma from his childhood, but chooses to stay witth Wu Zheng and the latter is patient enough for Yu Shi to trust him enough for Noah to accept him in his life.

La Pluie

This series divides opinion. Some find it consistently terrific and well-written and others may have problems with one or two characters. I belong to the latter group, which spoilt the series for me towards the end, but I would still list it here. Because tastes are different and absolutely subjective. You should form your own opinion here. The bottom line is that La Pluie is about soul mates and whether it's something you choose yourself or something that is predetermined. The NC scenes are delicate and appealing and the basic idea behind the series was actually very interesting. It's thought-provoking and packaged in nice pictures.

Life: Love on the line (Director's Cut)

Itou Akira and ishi Yuuki meet on their way to school while walking on the white line. They become friends and fall in love. What follows is a portrayal of their lives as they struggle through high school and college and eventually arrive in adult life. And as in every life, there are obstacles and problems and the older and bigger you get, the bigger the problems become. A film well worth seeing.

Long Time No See

What happens when a contract killer falls in love and the person he's dating isn't necessarily who he claims to be? An excellent film in any case, peppered with a nice story, good NC scenes, great chemistry between the actors, a sister as the best mood enhancer and also very well choreographed violence. In other words, everything you could wish for. And I can't and don't want to say any more, otherwise I could spoil important things and we don't want that.

Moonlight Chicken

EarthMix with a very aesthetic NC scene right in the first episode? Oh yes! But apart from the fact that the two of them really surprised me in this series, Moonlight Chicken simply blew me away with its storytelling, the depth of the individual stories, the well-drawn characters and the emotions that the individual stories evoked in me. The series tells stories about new beginnings, about letting go of the past, about trust, about acceptance, about grief and anger and about finding relationships where you didn't expect to at first and that love can't cure everything, but it can make life a little more bearable.

Old Fashion Cupcake

Old Fashion Cupcakes is a story about adults for adults. It's a comforting series that gives you courage and makes you realise that you're never too old to enjoy life. Besides, the two of them eat the most delicious things and I'm constantly hungry while watching. It is so good to see Nozue open up to Togawa and let the younger one lead him back into life.

Rec

I went into the film without any great expectations. And after the first few minutes, I actually thought that it was just a couple who like to film themselves having s'x. But at some point I was so captivated by the depth of the film. I was really touched at the end and understood why the two of them indulged themselves so excessively and filmed it. I can't put the film on the horny list because it would somehow be out of place there.

The Sign

A current series about two cops who realise that they are connected by past lives. Fate wanted them to fall in love and so they now have to overcome the hurdles that this love entails together. Because in earlier times, this love between Naga and Garuda was forbidden. Yes, there are a few mystical elements built in and they look pretty cool! The two mains have no problems with closeness and the NC scenes are some of the best out there.

Before we move on to the horny list, a few shout-outs for good series, which I didn't want to write about in detail:

Light

Plus and Minus

Manner of Death

Step by Step

Jack o'Frost

My Tooth Your Love

Papa & Daddy

Tokyo in April is...

My Personal Weatherman

The New Employee

To My Star (1+2)

Triage

Our Dating Sim

We are now leaving the mature series and moving on to the horny list (mostly with serious topics).

The Horny-List

Bed Friend

In addition to really good NC scenes, there is a lot of trauma shown. It's not quite my cup of tea, but many others find the series really good. I'll leave my personal opinion out of it and just say that this series is pretty high up on the horny list. However, you should pay attention to the trigger warnings and there are quite a few of them, especially when it comes to SA in every conceivable form.

Cutie Pie

I was pretty hyped about the show until the seventh episode or so. God was I obsessed. After that, the magic that Zee had on me left me a bit. The story really isn't the best, but I think most people didn't necessarily watch the show for the story. The two of them have really good chemistry and that kitchen scene still makes me weak in the knees sometimes. Definitely up there on the horny scale.

Dangerous Dr'gs Of S'x

There is no gif for this. Even if I found it here, I wouldn't insert it. Japan has two sides, either innocent and sweet or hardcore (well not really, but sometimes you can get this image). This one is hardcore. It's not necessarily horny and there's even a pretty heavy story behind it, but this film is riddled with s'x… Not necessarily consensual, at the beginning definitely not consensual. If you're over 18 and can take it, check it out. The film is not bad at all. It's just a bit different…

KinnPorsche

Praised by many, but viewed by me with a somewhat more critical eye, I would still recommend the series if you don't have a problem with dub-con or torture or violence in general. The mafia story is softened somewhat by the love scenes and the slapstick humour is not for everyone. It's a lot about daddy issues and whether you like the characters or not is something you have to decide for yourself.

Love In The Air

I have my issues with the show, but the more I watch and the more I try not to be quite so critical of toxic and destructive phatasies, the more these issues leave me unconcerned. Will I ever watch the series again? Nope. Can I understand why so many people love this show? Of course I do. That's why I don't want to withhold it from you here. LITA has a total of two stories to tell about two friends and their love life. The second story is definitely not an easy watch. There is trauma and SA and some stalking shit and it really can hit you. But for both parts, the NC scenes are, hands down, some of the best ever.

The End Of The World With You | Love At The End Of The World | Till The World Ends

We would have a Japanese doomsday scenario, a Filipino one and a Thai one. I'll summarise it under one point. All three are very explicit in their depiction of intimacy. All three are somewhat confusing story-wise. I had fun watching all three. In contrast to Love at the end of the world, The end of the world with you and Till the world ends are definitely still quite restrained.

Only Friends

The GmmTV actors have taken over and caused a huge mess. A group of friends want to open a hostel as a college project. Whilst in the series this somehow slips into the background at some point and really only served as a location for flings and water adventures, people get to know and love each other and some fall back on old friends to make new loves jealous. Somehow everyone was trying to hurt someone else at one point. I have found a new icon thanks to this series and have cheered for Boston and Boeing in their many endeavours. If I had to say one sentence about the show it would be that it's pure chaos, but damn Boston and Nick... hot.

Playboyy

Okay. I know the majority don't like this series, but I think it's terrific. I'm always amazed at how artistic the episodes are. How each couple has their own special setting, so you know who's about to appear. Yes, there is a lot of s'x, not necessarily horny s'x. It's often used for storytelling or as a catalyst for what happens next. And Prom and Nont are my little favourites. I find Prom only half as attractive without glasses, unless he swaps glasses for a blindfold… Still, on a horny scale it is up there.

Pornographer aka The Novelist

A student runs over a writer on his bike, breaking the writer's arm. As compensation (and because he can't pay damages), the student agrees to write down the writer's story he was working on. It is pornographic literature and while the writer dictates to the student, a kind of relationship develops between the two. This is not a romantic relationship in the classic sense, it's not about a cautious approach and getting to know each other, but about the psychology of lust and manipulation, about loneliness and the desire for more. It's pretty deep shit and I can only recommend it. But always with the warning that it's not going to be an easy watch.

Sweet Curse

Here's a short film for a change. I love short films! And Sweet Curse is one of them. Min-woo is jealous of one of his closest friends Ha-joon and wants to curse him. Too bad when the haunting spirit falls in love with the handsome and kind-hearted Ha-joon. When Korea has the freedom, they go all out. There are some short films that you wouldn't have expected from South Korea. And this here it's quite high up on the horny scale.

Wedding Plan

God, I love this series. No matter what anyone says, it was so good to watch these two fall in love and slowly let their walls down until the clothes followed. A very amusing series in which both mains know what they want and, above all, that they want each other, even if the planned wedding of one of them got in the way a little beforehand.

Why R U

The series may lack a bit of story, but if you want it horny, the Fighter x Tutor storyline is definitely for you. You have to hand it to Zee, the man can kiss. It's not the most adult series, set in college, but the topics are sometimes a bit heavier and the NC scenes are definitely worth watching.

I hope I haven't bored you and that there's something suitable for you in this small selection 😊 It was so fun making this list! Thank you again for this ask!

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nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos · 6 months

Text

Well fuck, I guess this is gonna be three parts instead of two

It was an accident I swear I'm sorry 😭😭

Just kinda want it to develop naturally instead of forcing it

Soooooooooo

Oooh that smile 😌🫠

Well, here we go.

Blacksmith's Daughter

Part 2 of 3 (I'm POSITIVE this time I swear)

Part 1 here

OPLA!Shanks X AFAB!Reader

Wordcount: 4.3k

Hurt/comfort, fluffy as goddeng cotton candy, I guess slow-burn now too? Idfk

Trigger Warnings: mentions of death of loved one, trauma

Tag requests: @zzbloody-animezz

Perfectly harmless.

You very highly doubted that claim was true.

"Well," he said, tilting his head a little closer, "mostly harmless."

Still, almost as if to prove it, Shanks released his hold around your waist, his hand resting at your lower back a moment before slipping away to hold the cell door open for you. You stumbled just a little on your first steps out of the cell, your legs trembling, stiff and weakened in equal measure from three days and two nights stuck with the very limited range of movement that your bindings had allowed.

"Easy, now," said Shanks lightly, briefly slipping his arm around your back to steady you by your waist. "You haven't been on your feet in days, you can take a minute to get your footing. We're not in any rush."

"R...right," you said, uncertainly. You swallowed as he helped guide you over to the brig officer's desk, where you sat heavily in the chair, stretching your legs out for a moment. "I still don't really want to stay here too long. Three days has been more than enough." You leaned forward, pulling your swords across the desk and resting your forehead on one of of the black leather sheaths, laying your hand over the hilt. "Don't want to keep the crew waiting, either."

"Ah, they'll be busy a while," he said dismissively, pulling himself uo to sit on the desk. "There's a good bit of cargo to transfer." He nodded down at the swords. "Yours, I take it?'

You nodded, lifting your head. "I didn't even know if they were brought on the ship or not," you said. "My father made them for me." He had made them just over ten years ago, given them to you on your fourteenth birthday.

"Well, he was damned skilled. They're beautiful. May I?" He gestured a hand toward them. "If you don't mind."

"Go ahead," you said. You lifted one of the cutlasses and drew to from its scabbard, handing it over. His hand brushed across yours as he took the blade, clearly intentionally if the small smirk that briefly curved the corner of his lips was any indication. You watched him flip it deftly in one hand, holding it upright, his eyes scanning slowly down the edge of the blade.

"And well cared for. Sharp as a razor," he commented, impressed. He turning it sideways, flipping it around once more and nodding. "He teach you anything about smithing?"

You shook your head. "Not much," you said. "My brother was his apprentice. He taught me maintenance mostly. He instructed me in a few different weapon types, but swords were always my favorite." You took the weapon back when he handed it off to you, slipping the blade back into its scabbard. "And his."

"Experienced thief, weapons expert...." He leaned back a bit, smiling as he shook his head. "Yeah, you'll fit right in, sweetheart."

The way he was looking at you, the way his eyes burned into yours, had your face growing a little warm again as you turned your own gaze away, swallowing nervously. It wasn't as if no one had ever flirted with you before; you were honestly pretty used to it, ever since you had ended up living in the streets, used to crude comments and catcalling.

And yet here sat an incredibly notorious pirate captain, being incredibly respectful about it, all but making you swoon every time he lowered his voice or so much as touched your hand.

You stood from the chair, picking up your swords and setting to strapping them to your belt at either side of your hips, glancing down at the Marine cadet still bound in the corner of the room as his eyes passed between you and Shanks. You had never been around any pirates before now, but you had encountered your fair share of Marines, as many of them had been customers at your father's smithy.

Many of them had been self-righteous prats, and all the Marines aboard this ship had treated you like scum they had dragged in on the bottom of their boots.

"I think I will fit in fairly well," you finally said, quietly.

"Now that's the spirit!" His enthusiasm was honestly infectious, and you couldn't help but smile a little as he slipped off of the desk. "There's a fair chance you'll end up with a bounty on your head once word of your escape reaches Marineford, anyway. Between that and breaking into a base in a major city." He still sounded particularly amused about that as he rest his hand over the small of your back, stepping over the Marine cadet as if he weren't even there. "I'm eager to find out how you managed it. Oh, no, not yet," he added when you opened your mouth to respond. "I'm sure the whole crew's going to want to hear that tale."

Well, it was quite a tale. You were honestly surprised you had made it as far as you had before getting caught.

Before everything went to hell in a handbasket.

You lifted a hand to shield your eyes as you emerged onto the bustling deck of the ship; the mid-afternoon sun was blinding after days of only seeing it through one small, rounded window in the brig. The Red Hair crew was working quickly and steadily on robbing the Marine ship completely blind, right before their eyes—the entire crew of around fifty Marines was tied up on the deck, bound at their hands and feet, the captain and his officers situated at the center mast to give them the best possible view of the entire debacle.

Shanks called and motioned for his own officers to line up at the starboard side of the caravel, and took his time in introducing you to each of them individually. He glanced back occasionally at the Marines' captain and mates with a smirk, clearly reveling in their growing annoyance.

"Our newest thief has two years experience," he dragged on loudly, pacing slowly between you and his officers—many of whom were cracking up themselves, well aware that the whole spectacle was being orchestrated for the sole purpose of riling up the captive Marines, "and was arrested for—if you can believe it—breaking into a Marine base in a major port city in Arabasta with only one accomplice, and getting so far as to open their treasury vault before being captured."

And he paused for effect at that, waiting as the crew began to break into laughter, as you struggled to keep a straight face yourself, glancing toward the infuriated Marine captain, who had told you before shoving you into the brig a few days ago that he would personally see to it that you never saw the light of day again. For once in your life you were seeing karma in real time—and it was a positively beautiful sight to behold.

"And I'm sure we're all dying to know," Shanks went on, ceasing his pacing and stopping just in front of you, grinning, "how the hell she managed it."

He had given you more than enough time to go over the details in your head. A lot of your success had been pure dumb luck, for sure, but you drew up your resolve to relay it.

"Overheard a few cadets in a tavern talking about how the vaults were never heavily guarded...and the roof access was never locked." His eyebrows shot up toward the bright red fringe of his hair as you spoke. His officers glanced between each other. "A couple days later we climbed the back wall of the base. Knocked out a couple Marines at the top floor, stole their uniforms, and made our way down."

"Bullshit." All eyes shifted onto the Marine captain when he spoke up, glaring daggers at you. "That base is constructed out of sandstone. Five stories of completely smooth stone. There's no way anyone could climb the walls."

"Tell your comrades at the base to check the back wall for holes," you said coldly, your eyes lingering on his. "We used climbing spikes."

The man's teeth gritted together in a visible scowl. You turned your head back toward the snickering pirates, in time to see Shanks mumble something to Benn, who rolled his eyes and scoffed.

Then you heard the Marine captain behind you again, speaking in a low growl. "Disrespectful wench." You turned your head in time to watch him spit at the heel of your boot.

"Disrespectful?" Though the rest of his crew continued to chuckle, Shanks wasn't laughing as he put himself between you and the oposing captain, his forearm resting over the hilt of his saber at his hip. "I get the impression you haven't done much to earn anyone's respect," he said. "That being said, respectfully, captain...."

And with that, he placed the heel of his sandal against the man's shoulder and shoved him over. With the Marine's hands and feet bound, there was nothing he could do to right himself—nothing except glare daggers at Shanks as he crouched down in front of him.

"Don't interupt." Shanks gave him a smile and a rather hard clap on the shoulder before straightening back out and turning to face his own crew. "Now—"

"Goddamned pirates," he spat. Shanks looked back over his shoulder at the man. "A thief's a thief," he said viciously, glaring daggers at you from where he lay on the deck floor. "The whore'll rob you lot blind same as she tried with us."

There was scattered chuckling around the Marines as Shanks stared down at the captain for a long, tense moment. You saw something shift in his eyes, the warmth and humor leaving them.

"Whore?" he repeated lightly, raising his eyebrows. His eyes swept around the rest of the Marines, before he turned to you, taking a couple steps closer. He brushed a few strands of hair behind your ear, offering you a warm smile. "I take it," he said slowly, quietly, "this is how you were being treated for the past three days, sweetheart?"

You swallowed, glancing over toward the Marines, whose laughter had quickly subsided. "More or less, yes," you affirmed.

"Hmm." He nodded, his hand drifting down to your shoulder, lifting the torn strap of your black tank top—torn when you had been flung into the cell in the brig by a couple cadets, while the captain stood watch and told you then that you'd never see the light of day again. His eyes shifted over to the Marines again, and he spoke aloud. "Change of plans, men. We take everything from this ship that isn't nailed down...and then we sink her."

The protest from the Marines was immediate, loud and desperate—some begging to be spared, others calling you several other colorful names and shouting claims that you were lying. Even you found yourself staring wide-eyed at the red-haired captain, at the knowledge that he would sink an entire ship just because of how the crew had treated you.

You were beginning to understand the reason for his bounty.

Shanks ignored the Marines entirely—it seemed his mind was made up. "I think we're just about done here." Your eyes remained wide as he turned his head back to meet your gaze, his expression softening into a smile again, his hand resting at your lower back. "What say we get you over to our ship and..." He glanced down at your shoulder briefly, at the broken strap of your shirt hanging down, "maybe find you something to change into."

You nodded, tugging unconsciously at the broken strap to pull the neck of your shirt up. "I...suppose that would be..."

"There's no need to worry, love" He clearly noticed your unease—there was no doubt it was written all over your face. He curled his arm around your back, leaning in a bit so he didn't have to raise his voice over the mounting protest of the Marines behind both of you. "You're part of my crew now, and we always look out for each other." He glanced over at the metal clink of a lighter igniting at his other side, and grinned at his first mate. "Isn't that right, Benn?"

Hi first mate quirked an eyebrow, taking a puff from his cigarette. "What am I agreeing to?"

"Ah, don't worry about it," Shanks laughed. "Anyway—I'll trust you to handle preparations here." He nodded back toward the Marines as the three of you stopped at the starboard railing around the deck, and he leaned forward against it, his eyes scanning over his ship floating only a few feet away, over the rest of the crew getting the supplies they had taken from the Marines organized. "Half a keg of powder should do the trick, we'll bring the rest with us."

"Right," said Benn, stubbing out the cigarette he had just lit on the railing and tucking it behind his ear.

"After you've—"

There was a light metallic clink right behind you—and all three of you heard it, glancing over your shoulders.

In the same instant you drew one of your swords and spun around, leveling it with the Marine officer's throat, Benn had his rifle pointed at the man's forehead. The officer dropped the flintlock pistol he had pointed at Shank's back, his eyes widened in shock, shaking as he slowly raised his hands.

Shanks turned around and leaned back, hanging his elbow over the edge of of the railing and glancing at you with a quick nod of approval. Then he turned his eyes on the Marine, giving a small chuckle and cooking his head to the side a bit.

"Now that wasn't a very smart decision, was it?" he said, grinning. "You could have just snuck by and sent out a distress call. Did you?" he added, lifting his eyebrows.

"I—I—no, I—I just—I—"

"Check," said Shanks, cutting his eyes toward Benn.

Benn gave a short nod, shouldered his rifle, and headed off toward the quarterdeck in quick strides.

The Marine remained standing there, shaking and stammering, his eyes darting between your blade and Shanks as the red-haired captain rolled his gaze back over to you. "Quite a set of reflexes you've got, sweetheart. You said your father trained you?"

You glanced at him only briefly before training your eyes back onto the Marine, and nodded. "We didn't live in a great area," you said. "He wanted to make sure I could defend myself."

"I would have to say he succeeded," he chuckled, shaking his head a little. He leaned back a bit further, placing the toe of his sandal over the Marine's pistol and sliding it across the deck, stooping down to pick it up. "What other tricks have you got up your sleeve?"

"Well," you said, watching as he turned the pistol over in his hands, and then casually reach behind him and drop it overboard. Benn was heading back down the stairs from the quarterdeck with a coil of rope hanging from one shoulder. He seemed to be in no hurry, so clearly no distress signal had been sent off. You went on, "He rigged this for me, in case I ever get disarmed."

You shifted your weight onto one foot, and hit the back of your right boot heel on the deck, and a three inch blade shot out from a slot in the front of the sole.

The Marine drew in a sharp breath, and Benn stopped a few feet away, speaking one word that clearly echoed his captain's wide-eyed expression.

"Shit."

Shank's brief look of shock quickly faded into an almost childlike excitement.

"God, that is brilliant," he laughed, crouching down and tilting his head to examine the blade. "How's it work?"

"Some sort of spring-loaded trigger mechanism," you said. You knocked your heel down again and the blade retracted. You smirked a little yourself as Shanks straightened back out—his enthusiasm truly was contagious. "My father called them 'Ball-Busters.'"

That cracked him up immediately—he leaned his shoulder into the railing, laughing, while Benn gave a scoff and shook his head. "I'd say that's pretty goddamned accurate," the first mate said. "I got it from here," he added, pulling his rifle down from his shoulder and shoving it against the Marine's shoulder as you pulled your cutlass away and slipped the blade back into its scabbard. "Alright, over there with the other assholes," he said, nudging him with the barrel. "We're as sick of being here as you are of having us here."

You watched Benn usher the officer over toward the main mast, feeling oddly as if you were stuck in the middle of some strange dream you might wake up from at any minute—wake up back in the dark and dingy cell below the deck, down in the brig, getting dragged out to be shoved into an even darker cell in Impel Down for the rest of your days.

"Oh, you are just a treat." So lost in that thought were you that you jumped a little when Shanks wrapped an arm around your back again. "Come on, love. Let's get you changed and cleaned up." He pulled himself up onto the railing and stepped into a sturdy plank laid out between his own ship and the Marines', offering you his hand. You took it and he helped pull you up as well, his fingers lacing through yours as he gave you another charming smile. "I'd say you've more than earned it."

Your eyes remained locked for a long, tense moment, his thumb brushing across the back of your hand, your heart racing a little faster—until a particularly strong wave rocked both of the ships and made you stumble a little. He chuckled lightly, before leading you across the plank and onto the main deck of his own ship.

You felt more than a little out of your element a few minutes later, lingering near the door of the captain's quarters with your arms crossed over your stomach while Shanks rifled through a wardrobe against the wall. You were still a little apprehensive, your mind still lingering on the man's decision to sink the Marines' vessel solely on your behalf, but there was a charm about him that was almost intoxicating, and it was drawing you in quickly.

"Don't really have anything that's going to fit you properly," he said, pulling one shirt out and frowning at it before hanging it back up. "But there might be...something...."

You swallowed, glancing around the cabin—at the table to your left that was covered in maps, a desk in the corner with a closed logbook, a four-poster bed in another corner with a pair of floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the port side of the ship. It still all felt uncanny enough to be a dream.

"No...other women on the crew, I take it?" you said slowly.

"No," he affirmed, still pushing aside hangers and frowning. "Not as if it's intentional, it just...turned out that way, I suppose?" He said it with an air of genuine surprise himself that almost made you chuckle. "Seems most women aren't interested in sailing around with a ship full of—ah, this should do," he interjected, pulling out a white shirt on a metal hanger that seemed at least a little smaller than the others. "Probably haven't worn it since I was a teenager," he said, looking it up and down.

He gave the shirt an appraising nod, and then tossed it to you before crossing the room to take a seat at the desk. He noded once more toward the corner by the wardrobe where there stood a fold-out changing screen.

"You'll have to forgive me if I'm a little averse to leaving a stranger alone in my personal quarters. But..." He lifted his hand, smiling, before covering his eyes with it. "I promise I won't peek. Pirate's honor."

You did chuckle a little at that. It wasn't as though you weren't used to changing in less than totally private conditions—you had been living on the streets for just over two years. You crossed the room yourself, ducking behind the divider screen and pulling it out.

"Nor do I wish to be on the recieving end of the Ball-Buster," he added, and you laughed aloud at that.

"I've never actually used it," you said, hanging the shirt over the top edge of the screen and pulling your tank top over your head. "Not as more than a threat a couple times. The sight of it usually gets the point across."

"I can't fathom any circumstance where it wouldn't," he laughed. You heard him sigh after a moment, while you pulled down the hanger and unbuttoned the shirt he had given you. "Out of curiosity," he said finally, "why exactly were you being shipped to Impel Down?" You paused, your eyes flickering up to the changing screen, in the direction of his sillhouette—and noting that from his shadow alone you could tell he still had his hand over his eyes. "That's a privilege normally reserved for pirates and revolutionaries rather than petty local thieves."

"I, uh...." You swallowed, pulling your arms through the sleeves of the shirt. You hadn't been completely clear on every detail, but it seemed now was as good a time as any—even if it was painful to recall. "I...killed two Marines before I was apprehended."

"Did you?" he said lightly.

"Mmm." You set to buttoning the shirt, slowly, glancing toward his silhouette again. "I didn't...really mean to. After...I guess after my brother took a bullet for me, I just sort of...reacted. I don't even really remember much of it. Just—him falling, then them taking my swords and locking me in a storage closet before carting me off to the ship."

You truthfully weren't even sure how long you had remained at the base before being taken to the docks—locked in the dark, your arms wrapped around your knees, wondering if you were ever going to see daylight again, hoping it was all just some awful nightmare you might wake up from.

"That's...." You heard him sigh heavily. "That's a lot." You gave a small hum in agreement, looking down at the shirt, and sighing yourself—it fit you like a nightgown, the hem drooping nearly down to your knees. You shook your head and set to unbuttoning it again.

"I suppose the Marines had a good reason for treating me like trash," you allowed, rolling the hem of the shirt up and tying it in a knot at your midriff. You fastened a few of the buttons above the knot, and set to rolling up the sleeves. "I did kill a couple of their comrades."

"And they killed your brother," he pointed out.

You frowned to yourself, swallowing back a lump forming in your throat at his quiet, understanding tone. You glanced up again when you heard him shift, and watched his shadow stand and cross the room through the screen as you rolled up the other sleeve to just above your elbow. You pulled the screen back just as he reached it, your eyes meeting his the moment you did. The sympathy in his dark eyes was almost enough to break you in an instant. You glanced down at his hand when it came to rest on your shoulder for just a moment before your eyes snapped back to his.

"That doesn't—" He shook his head. "Nothing excuses fifty plus grown men treating a young woman like something a dog dragged in. Particularly not after what you went through." Your gaze fell away from his at that, down to the floor. "I'm assuming from what you've said—and forgive me if I'm wrong—that you'd never..." He paused, seeming to search for the correct words. "You'd never been forced to defend yourself before?"

You shook your head. You had practiced with your swords for years, sparred with both your father and your brother regularly, but you had never been in a situation where you had to truly fight for your life. You had definitely never killed anyone before. You barely recalled the details even now, and you honestly didn't want to remember them at all.

"Oh, sweetheart..." He let out a slow sigh, and wrapped his arm around your shoulders. You closed your eyes as he rest his hand lightly over your head, as a little tension you hadn't even been aware of released from your shoulders. Your head fell forward, resting against his chest, and you closed your eyes as he lowered his head over yours. "Just so we're clear...you don't have to stay here," he said gently, his thumb brushing across the crown of your hair. "You're not a prisoner, you're a guest. You can take a few days to decide. Or longer. But if you do..."

He moved his hand to your cheek, lifting your head gingerly until your eyes met his.

"This crew is like a family." He lowered his forehead to yours, his hand drifting down to your shoulder again as he offered you a warm smile. "And you'll be welcome to stay as long as wish. Alright?"

You swallowed, and nodded.

Lowered your head again, your breath shaking as it left your lungs, and you rest your forehead against his chest again, your eyes closing tightly. You weren't used to this—this degree of kindness, of compassion from much of anyone, much less a stranger...but something in his eyes, in the warmth of his touch, told you that he was being completely sincere.

"Th...thank you," you whispered—you couldn't think of anything else to say than that, nothing that could wholly express the emotion swelling in your chest.

He just chuckled lightly, wrapping his arm around your shoulders again.

"You're welcome, love."

#opla #shanks opla #shanks x reader #red haired shanks #one piece shanks #shanks #one piece fan fiction #opla fanfiction #fluff

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levilaughlove · 25 days

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☁️► Heads up : M x m romance, cheating/disloyalty, mentions of emotional abuse, manipulation & gaslighting. Reader is taller than Levi by 3 in. Mentions of mental breakdowns & indecent language & ofc, smut.🗞 > Chapter 2

You woke up in a familiar bedroom. It's Levi's. You have a warm cloth on your head, the room has a heater set to a comfortable temp, & the smell of a vanilla candle was just enough.

"Welcome back to Earth." Levi says sarcastically, looking at you. The memories of how you got here flood back & your eyes water in anger & distress.

"You just got better. You were in bad shape..." Levi says cautiously as if he wants to add to that. "Go on..." You say, not breaking eye-contact with his unusually nervous person.

"You don't have to tell me now — or at all if you don't want to, but, what happened? That's the worst I've seen you.'' Levi asks, trying to keep an unbothered suit but the concern was there. You finally break eye contact and let out a tired breath. "She lashed out again. She waited for me in the living room." You stopped, not wanting her to seem more bad than she already is.

Silence rings through the room before Levi speaks up. "There's more to that. I know you, what else?" He says sternly. You stay silent.

"You shouldn't feel obligated to save her ass every time. She fucked up her reputation herself, you didn't do that." He adds. All you do, is nod in agreement but didn't audibly agree. "Also..."

"I tried to call you, but you didn't pick up. Was it a bad time or was it the heavy ass rain?" Levi asks, curious. "No she, she smashed it. My phone that is...that's what triggered the panic attack. It was just so loud."

You reply ashamed. You felt childish for the confession but it was Levi &, you confide in him. Levi looks at you with anger, but you know its not directed towards you. "That bitch, it pisses me off and i've never even SPOKEN to it." Levi glares, lost in unconscious, angry rambling.

Levi stopped, realizing how awkward it was for you. "I.." Levi began.

"I just want you to know, I'm not one to be sentimental or whatever the shit..." He continued, a tad bit embarrassed. "But, I care about you, so much. She's a cunt for how she treats you..you deserve much better. Even if it were for a minute, y'know, I could treat you better than she could in 7 centuries. I can treat you better." Levi uttered.

You were stunned, it was like a confession but you weren't sure if Levi had quite registered that he basically confessed his feelings about you. "Levi..." you murmured, an unexplainable joy rises in your chest.

Levi is looking down to his slightly fidgeting hands. He hasn't found the courage to look back up to you just yet. A hand sneaks under his chin & raises his head to meet your face once again. "I really understand how you feel, i'd love to reciprocate but..she is my wife. I'd be cheating. I don't...cheat." You say.

"One can label you a cheater all they want but more importantly label her a murderer. She killed a bright soul & that is unforgivable. My (M/n)." He said. "Pea."

Your heart dropped into your ass, he remembered. He remembers the best moments of your shared lives. It all made sense to you now. A breath of fresh air. It just. makes. sense.

"I've never said anything like this to anyone before." Levi Says. "— I don't need an answer now... I'll wait for you." he adds.

"Absolutely." You finally answer. "Yes, a million times."

Levi's stone cold expression has a hint of relief. You lean in, connecting your lips together.

"A million—times—Yes." You say in between kisses. He loves the way your lips feel, he has some unspeakable things he wants to do to you but won't say it, of course. Levis hands sneak to your waist, pulling you underneath him.

His hands roam your lower half, ever so slightly teasing your cock through your sweats.

" s-so good, vi. " Levi's face heats up, the way you get him worked up is concerning. You pull Levi closer, wrapping your legs around his waist and rubbing your manhoods together.

Levi moans & soft grunts in your ear. The friction makes you both hot and bothered, a faint wet spot can be seen on the head of both of your sweatpants. "I'm gonna take such...good care of you, (m/n)" Levi breathes out. "Flip." You obey and turn onto your stomach, lifting your ass in the air. Y'know, easy access. Levi eagerly slides your sweats down along with your boxers at once.

His breathing gets a bit heavier upon seeing your puckered hole, eager to be fucked. He guessed this was his reward for all his patience. You wanted to be filled so bad, never before had you ever had a desire this much. Everything boiled up to a point & you were ready to feel healthy love. Healthy love making.

You look back to Levi, eye full of desperate pleading. "I need it, I really need it, vi'...p-lease..." That sent him over the edge. "Oh, (m/n)."

Levi rammed his cock into your ass. A heat rises into both of your stomachs. Levi leans down & hugs you tight before pulling out and slamming back in. "Oh, hhnn." Fuck, you hadn't felt this much pleasure in a while. You feel his cock roughly pounding into your prostate, lewd fluids leaking onto the bed from your sex. Your cock hanging, the sheets below grazing your slit. Levi's hands tighten on your waist, more near your groin.

Levi listens closely to your voice, paying attention to your arousal. He gets off if you're getting off. "H-ghk! F-fuck Levi.." You choke out. Levi picks up his pace, wet slapping of his groin to your ass, your sloppy hole convulsing around him tighter by the second, driving him closer to orgasm. "(M-m/n) you're—) Levi just barely whispered. Tears fill your eyes once more, eyes low & slightly rolling back, body flushed. You let out a moan of immense pleasure, eyes now shut tightly. Levi blushing intensely at you. He has such a crush on you.

Levi slows his pace as to not overstimulate you.

"K-keep going, Levi.." You say breathless.

"B-but...you just—" "I need you to fill me, as deep as you can, vi'."

Levi breathes deeply before, once again, pulling out & slamming in. Your moans in union sound beautiful, your heads are hot, the bed creaking slightly, wet slapping of your jointed bottom parts, then it happens.

Levi loads into you, holding onto tighter than ever, ropes of cum spur onto you chest, your second orgasm. Levi's cum is much more than if he were to jerk off.

After you both fall from your highs, Levi pulls out, watching his cum drip from your gaping hole. You close your eyes & catch your breath. Levi rests his body on top of yours. After a while, he speaks. "You 'kay?" Levi asks, caressing your hair. "More than okay, we're filthy though." You reply. "A filthy i've longed for, for a long time." Levi murmurs into your ear. A small, content smile appears on your face.

The second beginning of something beautiful.

#gay #levi ackerman x male reader #lemon #levi ackerman smut #levi aot #levi x male reader #bottom male reader

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val-cansalute · 5 months

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PICKING UP THE ———- PIECES -———

ch. 1

ch. 2

ch. 3

ch. 4

ch. 5

ch. 6

a/n: short first chapter 🫤 also BORING AS FOCK but the next few will be longer and better, just stick with me cw: implied depression/ptsd, dark themes, not too heavy but please don’t read if this might trigger you, angst, no smut in this chapter but there might be some later on, creds to cafekitsune for dividers, MDNI 😡

Six months ago today, your gaunt figure limped through Jackson for the first time, arms scarred and trembling, and face adorned with a vacant expression. You’ve been here for a while now.

You heard Maria say, with time, you’d come out of your shell - actually speak to the others. But, no, you still stay holed up in your decaying room, recalling what happened that day obsessively, and only ever leaving to go on patrol. Only when you absolutely have to.

God, you don’t even know if you can call this grief anymore. Seems as though you built a nest in the sorrow. Would it still be considered missing him if you desperately want to stop seeing his face whenever you close your eyes.

Fuck, don't say that. Never say that.

Promise I still love you, big brother. Promise I'd do anything to see you again.

Well, nobody really pays you any mind; you just sink into the shadows of the shitty little apartment you've been put in. And it doesn’t matter to you because the thought of getting close to people again makes you sick anyway.

Never wanna feel this pain. Never again. Fuck, just go away, please.

I'm so sorry, Soren.

You’ve waited it out for months but, at this point, you've given up hope. Feels like maybe it’s time to go be on your own. You know it’s dumb, but you haven’t got much to live for now that he’s gone.

Late night, you crawl into the comfort of misery, chaining yourself to each painful memory; you cannot leave a single shard behind. Not one.

You will carry this with you for the rest of your days.

Somewhere along the line, dark fades to light and your mind goes blank for the first time in an eternity as you get up to follow that same routine.

Today, same as yesterday, and yesterday's yesterday, and yesterday's yesterday's yesterday, etc., etc., your partner is Ellie.

Maria seems to think the two of you are acquaintances, especially since the extroverted people around your age hadn't been able to drag much more than a few words out of you, but you don’t really talk, you stay out of each other’s ways.

You struggle to keep the smile up against the pushback of your aching cheeks when you’re talking to other people. Can never let them see.

Not even for a good reason. God, it’s just such an effort to talk about. It’s better for it to just nestle in your mind, where it’s made it’s home, where it’s comfortable.

Maybe part of why you stay out of each other’s ways is because you'd inadvertently come off as a dick during your first encounter, which would've been enough to push the already closed off Ellie to not interact with you at all. You weren't actually being rude though; she's hopefully figured that out at this point. She probably just got used to the interactions between you; silence dusted with passive aggressive remarks.

But, she doesn’t say much when you freak the fuck out if a clicker comes at you in a way that brings back memories. You’re grateful, regardless of her reason for doing so.

Perhaps it's the thought of leaving that is the spur to prick your sudden violence and, now, even you can tell you're getting worse. The feeling - it ensnares you like a bear trap when you see a clicker, so you fire frantically at its head. Blood splatters all over your front and you pull at the hem of your shirt to get a better look, mumbling, "Shit..." when you see the white fabric soaked through with the clicker's blood; cold water to the face.

Among the chaos, you must have turned on your foot weirdly, because your ankle feels like a stake has been stabbed right through it with each movement and you don’t know if you can walk.

Ellie finally manages to trace the sound of the gunshot to you after calling your name in worry for the past couple of minutes, running over to you. She pulls you around and looks over your jittery body for anything to worry about - brushes a thumb over the wet material, jerking it away before you can notice; you’re hyper aware, so you always manage to anyway - and then furrows her brows at you.

“Can you stop fucking around?”

You nod apologetically,

"Sorry. Feeling a bit out of it today..."

She sighs, still clearly angry, and turns away, "Let's go. We’re done here.”

You watch her figure retreat as you mount your horse with shaky footing. The ride back is a silent one. Once you reach the gates, you get off and pat the horse’s side. It has a name; you never cared to learn it. Maybe you knew you couldn’t stick around for long.

“Come on. Why are you just standing there?"

When your eyes meet hers, you feel utterly pathetic, but you don't have much of a choice.

“Can you… find, like, a stick? A big one...”

She stays quiet for a moment, seemingly thrown off by your question, so you're quick to add,

“I would do it but... I don't know, fuck, never mind...”

Ellie raises an eyebrow at you, her line of sight flicking down to your ankle as she takes note of your awkward stance and mutters with a sigh that makes you feel small, "Pain in the ass," before shaking her head.

"Yeah, it looks pretty bad," Ellie says after she crouches down and touches the wound, eliciting a pained wince (and a farewell to your last shred of dignity) from you.

She rises to her feet and brushes herself off as you wait for more of a response.

"Stick, right? You want a stick?"

You nod with a clenched jaw. She keeps looking down at you and the constant anticipation is starting to piss you off.

"No, you gonna ask for what you really need?" she says. "And drop the whole ‘tough guy’ act?"

You chuckle dryly, turning your eyes to the floor.

"You ever considered that maybe I actually am just a tough guy?"

“Ha ha,” she states in monotone, “Think you gave away the fact that you're not when you started crying over a twisted ankle," to which you raise an eyebrow at her.

“Uh, okay, nothing you just said was true, but, sure. Sure.”

“Yeah? Come over here and say that with some heart then, tough guy.”

You manage to take a few steps before falling.

"Yeah, that’s what I thought. Gonna need to be carried back," Ellie says.

“What about the big ass stick?”

“What is i-Fuck. Listen, even if that helps, which it won’t, you’d wreck your ankle even more and everyone’d be on my ass about it. So, quit talking and get over here," she says, reaching over to lift you off the floor.

You grimace jokingly, but Ellie doesn’t pick on the humorous nature of your words, “Oh. No piggyback?”

Ellie sighs, turning and crouching in front of you before you get on.

"I swear to god, you're infuriating," she sneers. "Now put your arms around my neck."

You’re acting slightly outside the confines of your silent, gloomy self again, and pretend to strangle her, “Since you asked so nicely.”

And you laugh at your own joke as you properly wrap your arms around her neck

"I'm glad you're having a good time; at least one of us is enjoying ourselves,” she grits out but you can hear the repressed smile in her voice.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry.”

"Good. Now shut up and enjoy the ride." Ellie says before turning her gaze back to the front.

As the two of you make your way through the fairly empty paths of Jackson, Ellie remains silent, her expression unreadable.

You keep your eyes focused on her, the small puff of air that leaves her mouth with each step, and staying quiet as your chin finds itself resting casually upon her shoulder

After a few minutes of walking in silence, Ellie finally speaks up again. Her voice is so close, the warmth of her breath and heat.

“You got them girls off your ass yet?”

“Who? The ones that are trying to... befriend me?”

“Mhm, the ones that you’re kinda friends with.”

“Yeah, they quit trying.”

"Don’t blame you… I mean, I can understand, but don’t make it too obvious.”

“I’d rather not-“

“Right, it’s just- well, if you want to be alone, fine. I… can even… make sure those assholes don’t bother you, or whatever- but, not on patrol! Don’t go wandering around on your own like that ever again. It’s dumb."

“I know, I just got caught up in the moment. Sorry.”

"Good."

A heavy silence befalls the two of you as she trudges on.

"Why are you so damn heavy?" she eventually mutters.

You lift your head off her shoulder reflexively, aware of your weight pulling her down all of a sudden,

“Sorry.”

Ellie looks over her shoulder at you, her eyebrows knitted in unexpected concern,

“Hey… I was kidding.”

“Right… I knew that…”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever," she says. "Hm, look at that, we made it," gently patting your thigh before pushing the doors open. "Time to get off."

You slowly slide off her back, making sure to land on your good leg as you watch her search the area curiously in a waiting, one-footed stance.

She returns after a second, picking you up to place you on top of one of the quaint, makeshift hospital beds before she begins rummaging through the supplies. You watch her muscles flex and then, the sight of a woman you'd seen around captures your focus.

"What happened to her?" the woman asks, causing Ellie to lift her head, looking down at you.

"Twisted my ankle."

"Well, obviously," her tone is laced with sarcasm. "My question was how you twisted your ankle."

"Turned weird."

Your response earns you a bemused raise of her blonde eyebrows, "Alright, whatever," she says, pulling up a chair and sitting before you.

After a short, boring while, she lets go of your leg and looks up at you again,

"So, you got a sprain. I'm gonna have to wrap your ankle up, alright?"

A lock of her hair continuously pesters her as she begins carefully tending to your ankle, pulling fresh bandages taut around the injury.

"It's gonna stay sensitive for a few days," the woman states, "And you shouldn't walk on it for at least a week."

She places a hand upon Ellie's shoulder, pulling her out of the deep-end of her thoughts, and turning her away from you. A muffled, but aggressive, hushed conversation ensues between them as you glance around the room restlessly, only making out the irritated tone of Ellie's responses. It ends with her pinching her nose bridge and mumbling a, "Fine," and they're facing you again.

The woman gives the two of you a nod before exiting the room,

"You two be safe out there."

“Alright. I’ll take you home. Now, get on," she turns, arms out, backpack on her front, as she waits for you to get onto her back again.

The route to your place is short and quiet as night blankets the world, or what’s left of it. Before you know it, she's pushing open the door and setting you down on yet another tattered bed - your own.

You hiss at the contact your ankle makes with the bed, but Ellie seems unfazed, patting your thigh in the same way she did before, the way that made your stomach twist,

“You gonna be okay?”

You nod, though her deadpan tone doesn’t leave much room for the honest truth.

“Alright, well… I’ll get going, then.”

There’s a stark contrast in life between her coming and going; the constant rustling of the fabric of her coat and the sound of her heavy winter boots against your creaky floorboards, the sound of her sniffles and low voice, and the flurry of gusts of nippy winds whistling - all shut out with the cold of the outside once she closes the door behind her. Well, most of it.

Now, you’re left with the bite of cold air and the deafening silence that haunts you as you sit still upon your mattress with darkness cast over the room, seeming to melt everything together.

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tomhollandisabae · 1 year

Text

gone- simon "ghost" riley x f!reader

masterlist

fandom; call of duty

summary; after a fight and a huge revelation he felt betrayed while you were lost.

warnings; angst, mentions of pregnancy, miscarriage, sex trafficking, mentions of rape, violence, blood, death, mentions of torture, english is not my first language

[THIS IS HEAVY IF YOU ARE EASILY TRIGGERED PLEASE DO NOT READ!!!]

words; 1.9k

Scared, cold, lonely, abandoned and betrayed was how you were feeling for the past -four years was it? Really, you had lost count of how long you were being held in this dark cell, since the last day you had seen the sun shining for the last time and were exposed to it, feeling its warm rays on your skin.

You had been abducted from your own house, while asleep, leaving behind a -possibly confused and hurt- husband.

It had happened on a summer night, after your husband, Simon Riley, had told that he was off to yet another mission. Then a huge fight followed, the loud sound of the front door closing and tears spilling from your eyes.

Your brain ached replaying the events of that night…

“we both agreed on that y/n!” simon huffed frustrated.

“well it happened one way or another. You can't control everything simon, we managed to prevent it for so many years, but here we are now.” You explained.

“and whose fault is that?” he raised his eyebrows.

“are you accusing me of something, simon?” you felt hurt, being accused by the very man that you so much loved for such thing.

“you're the one that's pregnant y/n!” he looked sternly at you.

“are you being serious right now? i'm on birth control for all these years, you know that doesn't always work!” you raised your voice at him.

“then you should have taken a better precaution.” Your mouth fell open at his statement.

“do you thing i'm some kind of dog that you can sterilise? Are you taking me for some kind of a fucking animal? And to your knowledge, it takes two to the tango, it's equally your fault too.” You were screaming at this point.

“that's not what I meant y/n” he sighed “look, i'm not mad—”

“clearly” you said sarcastically.

“I get that it's human and I couldn't hold you back from having a child, but i'm not suitable for a father y/n” he looked at you with sad eyes making your expression soften “i don't know how to be one. the only thing I got from mine was pain and suffering, nothing else and i'm not going to pass that on my own kid.”

“simon…” he raised his hand stopping you.

“i'm not going to tell you what to do with it y/n, that is your decision to make, but if you eventually decide to keep it, I don't thing that i'll be able to be there for both of you. i'm sorry.” He finally said.

Tears had gathered in your eyes by this point. You would have never fathom that you would have this kind of conversation with the man you loved. He was making you choose between him and your child, a cruel thing to do even for a man like him.

“I can't do that simon, I can't chose between you and our baby.” Tears were rolling down your eyes now.

“I won't press you into anything y/n, I guess i'll have my answer when i'll come back from this mission.” He wasn't even looking at you anymore, finding the floor quite interesting as it seemed to be.

“sim—” you didn't even get to finish your sentence as he walked out of your house, closing loudly the door behind him.

The thought of him coming back and not finding at your shared house, pained you to the core. The fact that you wouldn't even leave, for you had already chosen him. The man that you loved and still do. You knew that once he came back home and didn't find you there he broke once again. You were the only thing that he had left, the only thing that kept him going – as he had told you multiple times. You weren't able to control your tears at the thought of hurting simon. You would never, ever leave him, for nothing in this world.

Now you were trapped in this hell hole being passed from one man to another and of course with no baby.

As you realised with the time passing, you were being apart of a sex trafficking circle.

No one of them was aware of the fact that you were pregnant, but you soon lost your baby by all the beating and mistreatment you went through.

You had suffered so much all those past years, the only thing keeping you sane were the memories of all the good moments you had with simon. From the moment you met, to him proposing, to your wedding day and even your last encounter.

You were doing anything in your power to keep yourself going, while you constantly smelled of blood, sweat and other men. They had broken you to the last piece. Sometimes you were feeling completely nothing, the void taking over you.

The first few months you were patiently waiting for Simon to burst into those cages and free you, but obviously that never happened.

Until one day, four and a half years later.

You were laying on the floor of your cell, not responding anymore. The men in charge of you tried to make you react in some type of way; by beating you up, torturing you, raping you etc. But nothing worked. You had fallen in a mental coma. You couldn't feel anything anymore, both physically and emotionally.

You didn't even notice the huge blast that came from the main hall, not even the two strong arms that lifted you off the ground. You couldn't process what was happening, you hadn't even realised that you were just saved.

But it was too late…

You sanity was long gone. You would probably spend the rest of your life in a mental hospital, the last hope of seeing Simon, gone forever.

The man holding you, placed you down laying on your back while he said something that you couldn't bring yourself to understand.

“Okay sweetheart, you're going to sleep for a bit now so we can examine you.” You saw a woman smiling down at you while holding a syringe in her hands, before the darkness ,that you had been so used to, took over you once again.

When you woke up hours later, you tried to take in your surroundings. Not recognising where you were and noticing all the weird stuff on your arms, you took them off violently - causing yourself to bleed, while trying to sit up.

You were feeling dizzy and had the urge to vomit, but managed to get out of the room, immediately seeing the long hall way and the door at the end of it. You started running as if some one was chasing you down.

Your feet started giving up from under you while loud voices were coming from behind you. Right before you collapsed, two strong and firm arms wrapped themselves around you bringing you down and laying you softly on your back.

You looked up and saw a scary mask of a skull and those eyes. They reminded you of something, made you feel at easy while a warm feeling surrounded you. You couldn't believe that you were looking at them again, no you had to be dreaming. This couldn't be!

“y/n…” his harsh voice echoed in your ears, your body falling back into that mental coma.

“s…si…” you couldn't even voice his name anymore. It all felt too surreal.

“it's okay love, I got you now. No one's going to hurt you anymore.” He brought you closer to his body and hugged you.

“i… I lo… lost it…” your voice too weak, you didn't even know if he heard you.

But he did. His eyes locked with yours, a sad expression written on them.

“i'm sorry…” he whispered not being able to look at you anymore.

“I never… left you. I would never do that... i had chosen you, Simon. They took me.” Pain was the only thing you were feeling.

He didn't say anything. He couldn't say anything. Yes, he thought that you had chosen your baby over him, but he was leaving at ease thinking you were both safe somewhere on this planet. Yet he was so wrong…

Instead, you were being tortured to death, while your baby was long gone.

“simon…” you sobbed.

“shh it's okay love, we'll get through that.” He stroked softly your cheek with his thumb.

“I don't think I can—” he cut you off.

“no!” he said sternly “don't you dare think like that. you'll be alright. i'll help you through it. i'll be there every second of it. Please, don't leave me. Not now that I got you back.” His voice was barely heard and your heart broke at the sound of it.

You had broken again the man that once you had put back piece by piece. Your simon was long gone, replaced by a broken man that had lost both his wife and baby.

“now that I have you again, I don't know how to exist in a world without you. I don't think I'll be able to handle losing you again.” He said.

You wanted to touch him, comfort him, but your body wouldn't let you. You couldn't move.

“i…” your vision started getting blurry, your eyes rolling back.

“no! no!” he screamed “y/n keep your eyes open. Please, please don't leave me, please.” You could briefly make out by the sound of him that he was trying to hide the fact that he was crying.

“please…”

“I love… you…” a last tear rolled down on your cheek as you left your husband behind for good this time.

“NOOOOOO!!”

From that day on, Simon was never the same. He wouldn't speak to anyone, building up his walls once again. He became a cruel killing machine, not caring if he died anymore. At least he would be reunited with you again.

‘Till death do us part’, was what you had said to each other, on the happiest day of your lives, thinking that you would have a long life ahead of you, while he thought that he could finally be happy forever, all his trauma being redeemed.

But that lasted for five years…

Now Simon had no purpose, no reason to keep breathing, taking his anger out on the battlefield.

Till he'll be reunited with you once again, for good this time.

#simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley #ghost x you #ghost x reader #ghost #fanfic #imagines #angst #codmw2022

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littlegeecko · 5 months

Text

Company.

3k+ words | Clint / Kudzu Téngwàn | Echo: Visual Novel (2019)

Trigger warning for:

Sorta there Asphixiation experience, mentions of Brian

---

Summary:

Clint has a nightmare, then takes a moment to think about his life up to this point, and what he wanna do with it now that he's living with Kud

(Takes place after Jenna's good ending, i fill up some spaces here and there to explain their presence)

Enjoy : ]

---------

Clint POV

---------

I open my eyes.

I'm sitting on the ground, i know because there's dry dirt under my paws, but for some reason i don’t even question how i got here.

It's dark, so dark i can't make out where i am without squinting my eyes more than i usually do. I can hear the wind shaking nearby trees with a hollow whistle, it reminds me a bit of a train’s horn.

It feels like my body weighs a fuckton, my head and neck heavy and sluggish as i move them

My eyes barely adjust as i look up, to the sky, or what i assume it's the sky. It's red like blood, and some stars adorn it

Usually my vision is not that bad at night, it must be really late with no moon for it to looks this way, and so far i knew, the sky shouldn't be red...

I'm sitting in the middle of a....forest? Alone, with nothing but the sounds of nature around me and a ghostly sensation of familiarity that makes my shoulders relax. I say nothing

Deep breath in, and another out...

Branches crackle and grind together in the distance, that hollow whistle again

Breath in...breath out...

It's familiar, like a distant memory of something i can't exactly make out right now, but it sorta reminds me of that one time i followed Duke to the forest area because i was bored without Jeremy.

Duke got very angry, hissing at me in a hushed yell while looking around, then dragging me back to the entrance of the forest by the arm

Then he stood there, watching me go up the road as if making sure i was far enough to make his way back into the lush

I blink slowly. Before i close my eyes fully

Duke...i wonder where is he now.

I take another breath, but this time there's a pressure in my neck right under my Adam's apple, i get my hands up to my throat, almost a reflex

I feel something ragged, prickly and firm that scratches my paw pads like a cactus; rope.

A noose.

My eyes fly open as my ears go down.

No.

Please no.

I gasp, and suddenly i'm standing, my paws barely touching the ground and i let out a strangled wheeze, forced out my lungs as i try and grab the noose for some leverage.

I'm hanging, but i'm not hanging. Its a loop of panic and relief that lasts too short each time, everytime, my desperate breaths ending in shaky coughing

I try to weigh myself down bending my knees to no avail, letting out a whine of exertion and pain as the noose grazes my neck and leaves behind that prickling sensation again. It's strangely numb, but the pressure it's all the same.

It's stabbing me, it hates me.

There's beads of hot blood going down my collarbone, i can feel them, i'm briefly reminded of the little cross figurine that catboy had around his neck, for some reason

I look around as i breath too fast, expecting to see something, anything that could help me get out of here, but there's only darkness.

I try to keep my whines and groans low, still trying to bend my knees. My furless tail swishing side to side as frantically as me. I hear a branch snap in the distance and-

My blood runs cold when i see it.

Standing there. A huge shadow.

It walks towards me

It's face's obscured, but it's someone huge, towering over me. It's holding something.

I can't make it out in this darkness, but its all so familiar, realization hitting me as my throat closes in around a soft squeak of absolute terror

I freeze on the spot, my hands holding onto the noose like my life depends of it as more wounds open in my pawpads, my heart hammering in my chest and filling my ears until it’s all i can hear

It breaks through the noise, i hear a snort and a high-pitched giggle that melts into a distorted, disturbing laughter, i swear i can hear static laced into it. All of my fur stands on end and i feel my neck veins bulge under the strain, i feel like there's a rock inside my throat, about to make it snap

No...it can't be. It can't be him. He’s back?!

I screw my eyes shut and i scream, with all my might, but no sound comes out.

I open my eyes.

It’s dark, but i can make out the padded ceiling and moonlight coming through a window by my side, as i turn my head to it i feel the surface under me sway ever so slightly, a water bed.

Kudzu's trailer, Kudzu's bed. Right.

I let out a sigh, it's cold outside and no sun is visible, so it must be around 3 or 4 am.

I sit up and stare down at my covered paws in silence. Usually when i dream about...him i wake up hassled and yelling, curled up in a ball by the corner until Kud calms me down with his strange little mouth sounds, but this time it feels...different. i feel empty.

If anything my head is fuzzy, my lips dry, chapped. My fur feels a little damp with sweat, except the zones around my cheeks, those feel wet and i rub my eyes to dry them. My hands are shaking

It's almost dead silent if it wasn't for the occasional chittering of the cicadas outside and the faint noise of a fan somewhere in the trailer.

I look at the curtain that leads to the hallway, cracked open a bit

Without much thinking i stand and get out.

Kudzu's trailer is very fancy and cozy, at least to me; small but organized, colorful and with all the essentials, it can get a little hot but it's really chilly during the night, perfect to curl up in bed and nap. It smells earthy, clean and a bit musky, our smells combined at this point from how long i've been living with him.

“...”

I look at a small calendar on the kitchen counter as a pass by; 2 months.

It been 2 months since me, Jeremy and Kudzu escaped on the “ghost train”, 2 months since some people helped Kud move his trailer out of Echo and into a separated zone in Payton for him to stay for as long he saw necessary, 2 months since some people picked up my sis from back there too.

2 months since i started going clean by force, and Kudzu took me in

Speaking of...

Soft snoring gets my attention from behind me and there he is, laying on the couch with a thin blanket covering him from his belly down, chest rising and falling

I stare openly, i don't feel my face move

Like an invisible force pulling me, i walk up to the couch and stand by his side, looking down

And i just....stare at his sleeping, peaceful face.

The cicadas chitter, like they're singing a song...

Kud seems to be having a good sleep at least, if it wasn't for the occasional shifting around.

I remember the conversation we had last night when he complained about his back being stiff, and i said he could sleep on his bed already, but he refused, the bastard. He said he “wanted to make sure i was comfortable and had some privacy” while i stayed with him, so he went to sleep on the couch, just like every night.

I frown a bit

Kudzu was such a weird dude.

He looked, and acted, like a fucking badass, even if he was so much shorter than me!

...And i've caused him so many problems already, he could easily kick me out and leave me to my luck, specially after all the badmouthing, scratches i've given him at times, and how my nightmare-induced yelling makes his face scrunch up in an expression i didn't like on him.

But he hasn't kicked me out, if anything, he has tried his best to not bother me in particular ways, making me feel “comfy” as much as possible

He was quiet and sensible, soft and honestly kinda girly. He had a new garden and shit, and spoke all firm but tender, especially to me, with a smile an' all, it kinda pisses me off, to be honest. Speaking to me like i'm a stupid pup...

I pout, watching him adjust his head in his sleep

His ear gets caught up under his head and i resist the urge to reach out and fix it for him, i don't want to wake him up, not right now.

...

Sometimes i can't help but wonder what is his fucking problem.

Why is he letting me stay? I'm nothing but a nuisance, a pest, everyone seemed to agree on that. Even Duke did... and even so Duke was kinda nice to me before hell broke loose. Keith was the same... Both of them lost in the void as time went on until i had no one but the gang and...

I ball my hands into shaky fists as i think of him, a lump forming in my throat as i try my best to keep tears from forming in my eyes.

...Duke was...he had his issues, and it was my mistake to follow him around to the forest when i shouldn't have, i know that. And Keith just kinda left, God knows where is he now. Both of them were nice to me but somehow ended up making things more shit than they already were

What makes Kudzu different from them? How do i know he's not going to turn his back on me when i least expect it? Or worse. He could be...scheming something. Something to do with me

I scratch my neck as i feel the fur in my nape stand up. The scars long healed but still sticking out my fur

I bite my lip to not make a noise as my stomach feels suddenly hollow.

It's a scary thought, Keith always said scary thoughts were normal and i could analyze them to get over them. It was a thing Kud said sometimes too, something about healing

Healing...

I look down at my hands, old scars on my wrists barely visible by now, and many more on my fingers, i wiggle them, my nails growing better and no longer chipped around the edges. I see my tail curling in between my legs and it's so weird to see how fluffy it is now. It's been years since my tail looked this full of fur

Kud reminds me of Keith a bit sometimes, but he's quieter, his moves sharper, physical contact even more limited than Keith had with me.

Keith tried to protect us from the horrors of that shitty town, and failed, leaving us to our own luck... Or maybe Micha was right and he really got killed by... Him.

...could that happen to Kudzu now that i'm around him?

Somehow the pit in my belly felt emptier as i suck in a sharp breath through my nose.

No. I don't want Kudzu to get hurt, specially not for my fault

He's so kind... and he's been so patient with me even when he's visibly tired at times, that i know. I grit my teeth, i'm not fucking stupid, like Micha, Leo and he thinks i am.

He has treated me so well and i haven't done anything for him, what if i do it too late? When he's already in the face of danger cuz of me?

No, i can't let that happen, Kudzu is so cool and good. I don't want him to hate me and leave me like Duke, or to disappear like Keith...

I grip my head fur, pulling at it, and let out a long groan as my yowls pull back in a pained grimace. I wish i could get a hit right now and not think about this difficult shit that made my stomach do flips and my eyes water. It was annoying as fuck, it made me want to break shit, but i can't break any of Kud's shit, obviously.

I hit my head with the flat of my hands, my nails scratching at my thin fur with force as i pull-

"Clint?"

My eyes fly open to find a groggy Kudzu looking up at me, expression concerned as he seems to try make sense of the situation.

"...What are you doing?" His voice is firm, but not accusatory, he seems legitimately curious, worried even.

The sensation in my stomach is replaced by the beating of my heart just like in my dream, it quickened at some point apparently, but it's not super loud, it's more like when you get caught doing something you shouldn't. Embarrassment

I slowly pull my hand away from my head as my body relaxes...

I open and close my mouth, my tongue grazing over a missing spot between my teeth.

"...Couldn't sleep"

I say simply, albeit a bit shaky. He notices, he always does

Kud visibly relaxes with a strained side grin, groaning as he slowly sits up and rolls his shoulders. He rubs his eyes

"Another nightmare?"

I nod. He looks up at me.

"Want to talk about it?"

I shake my head no

"Very well" he adds, sitting up completely with a soft hiss, his hand rubbing his lower back

I stand there staring then blink in realization, both that i'm just there ogling like an idiot just playing with my thumbs and that this is a good chance to do something for him for a change. I clear my throat

"Do you want to sleep on your bed?" I ask, trying to keep my voice from wavering. He shakes his head no and i frown

"I told you i'm fine on the couch"

"That's not true" I say quickly

"Clint, i just-"

I growl in annoyance, and before he can give me that same retort from last night i grab him by the wrist, his eyes snapping open as his body tenses up

"Clint!"

I don't let him complain as i yank him up and off the couch, briskly walking to the makeshift bedroom, and he follows, stumbling a bit

He doesn't speak further more than a sigh, and i open the curtains for me to crawl inside and tug his wrist

"Get in" i say, and in a moment of sleepy lucidity he seems to pause as he catches on me also being on the bed

"I know you're trying to be nice but-"

"I'm not fucking asking ya. Get in"

I tug more insistently and this time he does follow, looking to the side as if bashful, but either too tired to fight back or just done with my shit at this point. We both know he's stronger than me, and yet he lets me do this

"You're sleeping here till your back feels better, ya hear? Even if i have to hold ya down"

He actually does chuckle at that as he gets on the wobbly mattress, shuffling about to lay his head on the pillow, and actually letting out a satisfied groan as he comfortably sinks on the bed

He has that smile on his face when his eyes turn up to me, half lidded but focused, and my mouth goes dry all of the sudden

"Well thanks, Clint" he gives me an amused look, and i can't help but think he probably believes i'm too much of a pussy to sleep alone after a nightmare. I don't fight it tho

I do a little 'hmp' in agreement, laying on my side and looking at Kudzu, whose eyes are now closed, nose pointing to the ceiling

...I look at him up and down for a moment, my tail twitches as it sways side to side between the wall and my legs. My ear twitches

Kudzu...Kudzu is really nice. I need to step it up if i'm staying here with him for God knows how long.

I'm no longer a pup or a youngling that needs Duke or Keith to guide me along. I'm on my own shit now, and away from Echo, hopefully forever. Hell even my sis made it out eventually, staying at some place only for girls...

If i'm going to survive out here too might as well get along with the one person that's actively doing something for me, unlike the others, which to be fair? they also have their own shit to deal with

I thin my lips, i sigh and relax my body, scooting a little closer to Kud, hopefully he won't notice.

All of this took my mind off the dream i had, slowly fading into the void just like the rest of em, and i, too, slowly fade into nothingness for the night. After all, Kud will be there when i wake up. I hope.

---------------

Kudzu’s POV

---------------

Light peeks through the blinds of my window as i crack an eye open, groaning at the sun beams directly on my face. I stretch my arms over my head with a groan, then yawn

I remember last night pretty well, specially since it was a dreamless sleep... I rub my eyes as i organize my thoughts and look at the little wall clock beside my pillow

8 am... Still too early for Clint to wake up

Speaking of Clint...

This time i don't have to stand up from the couch and check behind the curtains to see how is he, as right now he's laying beside me...more specifically, on me, his eyes closed and expression serene as soft snores warm the fur on my chest, one arm (and leg) draped over my body.

My chest feels a little tight, position a bit too similar to old memories, but at the same time... it's welcomed, it feels kinda nice. I'll never tell Clint but i actually think he looks a bit cute when in a chill mood, heh...

I smile down at him and make a move to get out of bed, but his grip suddenly gets firm, holding me down and against his thin body with a sleepy grumble, face easing again when i stop my efforts.

I open my mouth to tell him i gotta stand and get ready for the day, but i close it, laying my head back on the pillow with a defeated sigh, i guess i can stay for 10 more minutes...

My hand absentmindedly goes up to Clint's back and i feel him tense up, then relax, cuddling closer, his thigh over mine

I feel my cheeks get a little warm, but i quickly stifle the twisty feeling in my chest, closing my eyes.

I can already hear Clint saying the position was a total accident when he wakes up, and i can't help but smile a bit.

It's good to have some company.

-----------

:3c

#echo vn #echovn #echo project #clint echo #kudzu tengwan #fanfic #i write #so that just happened!#i was gonna post the art by itself but i decided to add this wall of text to it since i dont have time to expand on it visually lmao #s/o to the echo server girlies who cheered me to post my cringe

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pastryland · 8 months

Text

f1 completed fic recommendations

F1 fics are the main reason I got into this fandom and I figured I should share some (or so so many) fics that I like. While I do primarily follow Lando/Oscar and Charles/Carlos, I do read fics from other ships especially if they're from an author I like or the concept is interesting.

I have way too many fics (100+ though not all are completed) bookmarked so I'll just share my absolute favorites on this post and link posts of individual ships on their own posts. Also, I will continually keep updating this post and the other ones as fics complete and I read more.

If any of the authors of the fics mentioned here or are tagged and don't want their fics to be here, please let me know and I'll remove it!

❤️ = favorite

⭐️ = I love fics by this author in general

❌ = triggering themes

🔥 = explicit

Absolute Favorite Fics:

the trials of 2022 - 33k - Charles Leclerc/Carlos Sainz Jr - ❤️ ⭐️ 🔥

A partial summary of the 2022 season, as told by Charles or Carlos, following each race.

This would be my all-time favorite F1 fic if I had to choose, only rivaled by its currently unfinished sequel and the second fic here. Charles's and Carlos's relationship in this fic is so organic and realistic and the chemistry is incredibly tangible. The angst, tension, the emotion in this fic is delectable, beautiful writing by @/f1-stuff. Even if you aren't into this ship, I implore you to try this fic out.

the end of the strain - 19k - Lewis Hamilton/Nico Rosberg, Lewis Hamilton/Sebastian Vettel - ❤️

They didn't end up together in the end, which he had already prepared for in his heart. Lewis, in seven parts.

For the first time ever reading any fic of any fandom, I had to lie on the floor for a couple minutes to process the emotional damage this fic gave me. The characterizations of all the people are on point and the relationships are heartbreaking and devastating in all the right ways. If you want to cry or lie on the floor and contemplate love like I did, this is the fic for you.

Negative Splits - 10k - Lando Norris/Oscar Piastri - ❤️ ⭐️

So officially, Oscar Piastri, pretty good steepler and pretty bad pacer, was now a professional runner. They wanted him to steeple, mostly, though he’d be doing cross country in the fall, and Lando had pinky promised him, mid-distance guy to mid-distance guy, that if he wanted to get into the 3k flat indoor then he would get him in. Oscar didn’t really want to ask how he planned on doing that. Felt safer not to ask.

@/ocontraire is the queen of Sports AU's for the F1 boys (go check out her other fics too! They're also incredible). As an athlete myself, the mentalities of both Lando and Oscar are relatable to me, though I'm also fascinated by the differences in various sports. This fic is certainly on the more lighthearted side (emotionally at least) and I thoroughly enjoy Lando and Oscar's friendship/relationship and its development.

induction, consolidation, maintenance - 6k - Pierre Gasly/Charles Leclerc - ❤️ ❌

In which Charles is sick, Pierre is desperate, and he wishes he didn't have to do what he's doing to pay for Charles to have a chance.

Piarles is certainly not a ship that I read often, but this fic caught my eye and I'm certainly glad that I read it. Pierre's and Charles's relationship is quite cute, though I mainly love Pierre's desperation to save Charles no matter what. He is willing to do anything, the world could burn for all he cares, to make sure Charles is healthy again and it got me heavily in the feels.

glitch - 26k - Max Verstappen/Charles Leclerc - ❤️ ⭐️

Max hums. “Well, at least that means I won’t bump into Charles Leclerc again.” “Bummer, really,” Daniel says, moving back to his own seat and drinking the little bit of coffee that was still in the cup. “Could’ve been the start of a great love story.” Lando snorts. “Kids, it all started when I told your father, who had won two World Driver Championships at that point, that he sucked at driving.” Max sticks his middle finger up at them, and pulls his noise canceling headphones back over his ears. Only two hours left to go, he thinks, wistfully, and goes back to work.

I mainly read @/nyoomfruits's fics because of Landoscar, though this Lestappen fic took me completely by surprise. I adore the romcom vibes of this whole fic and Daniel and Lando are so hilarious and chaotic. Max's personality fits so well in this fic as an unbothered IT guy, but completely loses his composure when he meets Charles, his favorite F1 driver.

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jakeyt · 9 months

Text

Covet: Chapter 6

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Covet Summary:

Life was good. No, life was great.

Was.

Until.

Jake Kiszka crashed into the picture.

You welcomed him into your life—your home.

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

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

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

Warnings: MINORS DNI (18+); smutty smutty smut; talk of Reader's anxiety; drunkenness; New Girl spoilers (if you’ve never watched the show and don’t wanna know things!); absent parent thoughts; heavy petting; oral sex f!receiving; fingering; oral sex m!receiving; unprotected p in v sex; spanking (hehe); Reader is stubborn; Jake is stubborn (if i missed any that may have triggered you, please let me know!!)

Chapter Word Count: 24.5k+ (damn. i'm v sorry lmao)

Covet Masterlist

a/n: welllll, after summer school (that shit really took it out of me), one vacation w my whole fam, two gvf shows with my sis @joshym, an extended vaca in nash (bc we just HAD to!!), and INSANE writer's block....... HERE IS CHAPTER 6! finally! i'm insanely sorry it took so damn long. thank you all for being the fkn B E S T and so understanding and the best gresties/readers a girl could ask for! <3333 ("heart eyes, motherfucker" - that's how i feel about u all :) (also if u remember that vine, ily even more now))

i hope you enjoyyyy ;)

-🌼🌼🌼-

At the beginning of July, you were stacking a shipment of some blues records in a bin at work, your mind in a blank space, which naturally moved you to think of the one person who was seemingly always at the back of your mind.

Jake.

He’d really just taken up residence in your brain, as he had in your home.

He was still on his shit. You know, acting like a pouting child, barely acknowledging you. Even after you’d literally bared yourself to him, pussy out, nipples pebbled in the open air. . .

You blew a breath through your lips, and tucked hair behind both ears, readjusting your thought process.

Now he seemed set on only acting like an ass after your time in the cramped bathroom had been cut short. Before, he’d taken the time to still seek you out. After the incident in your bedroom bedroom, he’d literally shown up at the B&G, begging you to come see him.

Were you just not worth it to him anymore?

You rolled your eyes to yourself, focusing on stuffing records in the bin alphabetically.

It. Didn’t. Matter. He didn’t matter.

Really.

And you knew he didn’t matter because it wasn’t hard for you when you finally decided to play into his behavior—his little game. You didn’t stop yourself when you started to match his energy. It was easy to act as though you didn’t care about him.

Because you didn’t.

All you really needed was to satisfy that itch and then—then, you’d be good.

But as you came across a re-release of a Howlin’ Wolf record, you suddenly became slightly disheartened at the thought of it all. What if this wasn’t a game for him? What if he was actually so upset that he just decided you weren’t worth it? Would you ever get as close as you had at the gig again? Did he still want you like he had in the bathroom that night? Or in your bed the night before Baby’s?

You shivered as you (once again) thought of his hardened dick pressed up against your leg. You could hear his voice, low and sultry.

“That’s what you do to me.”

Fuck. Did you still do that to him? You hoped so.

Then there was the feeling of him pressing into you, your bare ass on the cold ceramic of the sink, leaning your body into him, craving more—so close.

God.

You frustratedly groaned and shoved the vinyl in its place and shook your head. It didn’t matter. Really. But you couldn’t help your heart falling at the idea of him not wanting you like you wanted him.

All you could do was hope that he still wanted it—wanted you, like he had before.

-🌼🌼🌼-

You'd also started July deciding that in order to keep some sense of dignity, it would be best to not go see Jake perform. Especially if it was possible he’d completely closed himself off the idea of you.

It was humiliating to be a try hard.

You would distance yourself from that part of his life, if he was going to ignore you and distance himself in your shared home.

Did you want to see him play again? Hell freakin’ yes. It had been such an intimate experience that first night. You’d felt so privileged to witness it the way you had then, up close to share his emotions as he played, holding his eyes almost any time he’d looked up at you. You’d been taking in every flick of his fingers, every thrust into the back of his guitar, the concentration on his sweaty face . . . and he’d wanted you to watch. He’d wanted you there, in that moment, with him.

You could still see him clear as day, tanned skin glowing in the B&G, his eyes golden in the evening sun, pleading with you. . .

“I really want you there.”

When you’d gone to their last shows in June, all you wanted was to feel that way again. Connected to him. Close to him. You wanted it so badly—but it seemed he didn’t want it anymore. He hadn’t looked at you once during any of the shows. To be fair, you had been standing so far towards the back that it’s possible he hadn’t even known you were there. But, he hadn’t even tried to seek you out to ask you to come like he had before (if it really was possible he thought you weren’t there).

Things were just different than before.

So, yeah. It was best that you didn’t go. You didn’t want to seem desperate or possibly annoy him with your presence just in case he did see you at a show. You’d made up your mind that it was obvious he didn’t want you there. He wanted things like they currently were.

And it wasn’t so much that it hurt to have him act so aloof and absent and uncaring. It didn’t hurt. Really. You’d tried to convince yourself that he was just making you angry. Nothing more.

So, you just continued to play his game however well you could. It wasn’t that important.

Though, any time he left the apartment, looking deliciously ready for a performance, all you wanted to do was follow. But instead, all you’d actually do was look at him from wherever he passed you in the apartment. You’d glare at him, matching his pissy behavior as long as he continued to show it.

But you’d eventually noticed that his eyes weren’t always holding irritation when he passed you. . .sometimes, you could have sworn his eyes held more longing than anything.

Although, as soon as you’d think you saw it, he was already gone. And you would eventually decide that you’d imagined it.

You couldn’t stop yourself from wondering if it was possible that underneath his moodiness he did still want you?

All you wanted was to understand what he was feeling.

-🌼🌼🌼-

So, after not going to their shows for the first couple weeks of July, Josh had finally reached out on the night of one, asking if you’d come because he ‘missed seeing you’.

You initially wanted to send a text back that said: ‘No, sorry. Your brother sucks and I’m mad at him right now. And if I go all I’ll want to do is fuck him senseless after watching him play, even though he probably doesn’t want that at all. So, I have to decline.’

But, then you guiltily started thinking of how you needed to support your best friend and the other two guys. It was incredibly rude of you to not go see Josh, Sam, and Danny do their thing simply because Jake was a pain in the ass that you couldn’t figure out.

You wanted to support your friends. Support Josh.

So that’s why you ended up texting an ‘Of course! What time?’ in response.

And as you got ready that night, you pulled on a cropped Cream T-shirt, thinking momentarily of your roommate. Would he like it if he saw it? Or would it piss him off?

Pushing it out of your mind, you focused on how excited you were now, the idea of getting to see them live again.

The guys put on a helluva show; they were absolutely magnificent, so magnetic.

Once you felt totally ready to go, you secured an Uber to pick you up, already planning to have a few drinks to ease your mind at the show.

As you put your shoes on, you thought. . . The thing that made you most excited really wasn’t seeing the band perform again as a whole. It wasn’t even the thought of seeing Josh. It was getting to simply be near Jake again, pathetic as it may sound. And the thought of seeing him play again. . . Fuck. Watching him was so enticing. He was like a drug. . .always drawing you in.

There was no denying the way your stomach fluttered at the thought of watching him perform again. Because even though he was pissing you off and you had no earthly clue how in the hell he was feeling, watching him perform was unlike any adrenaline rush you’d ever experienced.

(Save for the feeling of your blood pumping erratically at the feeling of him tucked between your legs. That was a feeling unlike anything else.)

-🌼🌼🌼-

Like you had at shows before, you sat at the back to witness the performance.

It had been great, per usual. Jake had left you wanting him from your seat. And just like it had been at the shows in June, he never failed to make you feel incredibly stupid for stopping things in the bathroom the night of their first show.

Yet now, while they performed their encore, you hadn’t left the venue like you normally did. You hadn’t tried to get the hell out of dodge.

No, tonight, you stood at the outdoor bar area connected to the back of the venue. It was set in a huge space covered in bright green turf, a small patio with a couple of tables, and plenty of Edison bulb string lights to set the cool mood of the place.

There were even a couple of ping pong tables and a cornhole game set up for people to play at. A random sporting event was drawing in a few college-aged men, on a giant flat screen TV.

Although, unlike those men, it wasn’t your choice to be hanging out in the open area. You had wanted to avert to your normal plan of leaving to go home with a quick ‘proud of you!’ text to Josh.

You wanted to avoid Jake seeing you at all costs. But Josh had inadvertently seen to it that you wouldn’t get away with that plan again.

He’d apparently caught onto your little trick. Before you could begin to type a text, and before they’d even come out for their encore, Josh had sent a text. Or three.

Josh, 10:23 p.m.: Don’t you dare leave.

Josh, 10:23 p.m.: I really want to see you and give you a hug

Josh, 10:24 p.m.: I don’t see you nearly enough these days and I miss you dearly and I really want to have just one drink with you after the show. Pleeeeaaaase

So, here you were, outside before the set even totally ended, standing at the bar, downing another lemon drop to calm your nerves. You really just wanted to be home, with Stevie snoring against your calves.

You were not totally ready to be in the same area as Jake for an extended amount of time.

You were just asking for your another beer when you felt someone sidle up beside you. The nudge against your shoulder, and the familiar hint of patchouli in his cologne, made you grin at your best friend.

“One salty dog for me,” Josh said as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. After a nod, the bartender went to get his drink ready, and he turned you fully into him to give you a big hug.

It felt so safe. . . but you couldn’t help the feeling of wanting to be this close to Jake instead.

When you pulled away, you momentarily closed your eyes, collecting your thoughts. When you opened them, you watched as he placed an elbow on the bar and a hand on his hip. His eyebrow went up.

“Great job tonight. I’m so prou—.”

“Why haven’t you let me know your anxiety’s been flaring up again?” He interrupted, obviously worried.

You blinked once. What? “What?”

“Last month, you kept fleeing before I could even take a breath after a set. I figured you were just trying to get some sleep with your summer classes starting. But then you just stopped coming altogether,” he scooted in closer to you. His voice got lower, his eyes concerned. “I just wanted to put eyes on you. I’ve been so busy; I haven’t had time to check on you like normal. My schedule is shit. I figured this would be a way for me to see you and make sure you’re doing alright,” he continued, reaching his hand up to lightly rub your shoulder. “It came later this time. I expected it to get bad at the end of May, but it never came. What’s going on? Are you okay? Are you eating?”

Your cheeks pinkened. With your concern for avoiding Jake at these gigs, you hadn’t even taken time to think about how your behavior might have worried Josh. Of course he’d been thinking deeply about your absence. He cared so much for you, and was a sole confidant on multiple occasions of your depression induced anxiety flare-ups. And, to be fair, being flighty usually signaled the beginning of your bigger bouts with your superb anxiety-depression combo.

You’d had a few times in your friendship where it had gotten really bad. Definitely a trauma response, almost always coming with a change in season. For some reason, the change in leaves, flowers blooming — it always made you think of just how much your mom had broken you. You didn’t get to appreciate the beauty without it being tainted by darkness. Your mother's leaving had come right at the turn of fall into winter.

There had been a few times after Elsie left when it got so bad that Josh’d insisted he stay with you. With your sister around, he wouldn’t always stay the night when it hit you, but he’d check on you at work, and hover with texts, food, and quality time until he felt you were better.

But this had nothing to do with your mother. And really, your anxiety wasn’t bad. Jake wasn’t causing you anxiety for you at all right now. You didn’t know what you were feeling. Were you on edge around Jake at all times? Yes. But it wasn’t anxiety. It definitely wasn’t depression. Sadness that he could possibly not want you, yes. But it wasn’t something dark like the thought your mother might bring. You didn’t know what it was.

You just knew you had to reassure Josh.

“I’m okay,” you looked into his eyes and reached out to hold his hand on the bar. “Yes, I’m eating. I’m just—feeling a lot right now? I don’t know. It’s weird,” you shook your head and removed your hand to tuck some hair behind your ear. How could you explain this to him? You couldn’t. “Just a lot going on in my head.”

He studied you, squinted his eyes. “Is there something I should know about?” He questioned, his voice getting crisper as he tried to make pieces click. Your stomach dropped. “You’re being vague. You’re sure it’s not—?”

“No,” you shut your eyes, huffing a frustrated breath. “Yes. I’m—it’s just—I don’t know.” Improvise, improvise, improvise. “When Elsie was in town, we talked about my mom. I’ve just been in my feelings, I guess. And, yeah, summer classes have started and that’s added some pressure, too. But it’s not anxiety or depression or anything,” you connected eyes with him again, and reached to squeeze his hand. “I promise.”

He still didn’t seem convinced. You weren’t surprised. He was an empath after all. He shouldn’t be convinced. He knew better than to believe that was all it was. But you didn’t want him knowing any better than an assumption in his head. And as long as the assumption didn’t have anything to do with his brother, you were okay with whatever he was assuming. And, you being in a weird headspace because of your mom wasn’t a lie. You truly had been. He’d even witnessed it at the coffee shop.

It just wasn’t the whole truth. The biggest thing was something he absolutely couldn’t know: the way your mind had been swarmed with Jake, Jake, Jake for the past months. And it’d only gotten worse with the past couple . . .events.

The thought of Josh catching on to anything about his brother continued to make you fearful of him possibly being cross with you over it. Or worse, made you fear him feeling betrayed by you. You didn’t want him upset or thinking poorly of you for possibly distracting Jake in any way.

You couldn't be to Jake what his ex had been. And you feared Josh’s mind would go to that immediately—out of protection for his brother. Rightfully so.

His eyes settled back to normal, accepting your answer for the time being. His eyes curved down with understanding. “I saw you watching that girl and her mom at the coffee shop. I should’ve known.”

All you could do was nod. You didn’t know what more to say to cover your ass.

You cleared your throat, signaling you were ready for a change of topic. “Enough about me. How are you feeling about all of these amazing shows, rockstar?”

He grinned wide, letting his worries go as a drink landed in front of him.

And in no time, things were like they’d always been.

Just you and Josh, not a lingering thought for Jake’s moods as you let yourself listen to his twin’s many thoughts and feelings of this new life of his.

You just had to try your best to ignore the way your heart leapt in your chest at any mention of Jake’s name in a story.

-🌼🌼🌼-

Jake’s POV

I wasn’t prepared for the sight of her as I walked out onto the back area of the establishment.

And fuck it all, if she wasn’t the first thing my eyes found in that slightly crowded space. It would be impossible for her not to be—she was most definitely the most gorgeous woman I’d ever seen.

But my heart immediately dropped when it registered that she was holding Josh’s hand, talking animatedly with him. It would be stupid for me to assume she’d come for anyone else but him.

I had thought for sure that she’d been interested—wanted me—that night at Baby’s All Right. She’d said so much the night before that —her being so open with me at our home, right before we’d kissed for the first time in the hallway.

Then, that night at Baby’s. . .I’d been so close to her, feeling her swollen pussy, still wet from my mouth, on the head of my cock. The way her body had thrummed around me. . .making my body need more.

But just before I was inside of her, she’d heard my brother and her mind had gone immediately to him. Only caring what he thought.

I didn’t know what to think about what they had between them. It was very possible that they were just friends—best friends. I knew that was likely the case.

(And if I were thinking reasonably—it was definitely the case from how Josh talked about her sister.)

But my ways of reasonable thinking had been shot to shit these days.

I’d been burned by assuming something similar in the past. The whole “just friends” thing was a cover I wasn't too fond of. Thanks to the woman I’d loved in the past, my trust was shot and I had become a primarily “glass half empty” thinker. My past had bit me in the fuckin’ ass.

But y/n—she made me feel electric again—full of life. She was the most beautiful symbol of a fresh start. A fresh start I’d been craving—a feeling I’d been chasing for years.

I truly hadn’t felt so full of possibility since I was 16. Even when we’d bicker, I felt this glimmer of hope for my life. . . She was a natural light.

I just wanted her so bad, going dizzy at the sight of her . . . And that was a feeling I hadn’t ever felt with any other woman. My brain was almost always fuzzy when she was near.

She was absolutely breathtaking, every movement she made that had her hair flowing in slow motion around her head, the way her eyes hooded when it was just the two of us. . . but even better, the way her eyes shined, so bright, all the time. She was positively heaven sent.

And I’d be an idiot to think she’d want me more than my brother—who she’d known for years, who she was instantly drawn to at all times. They had natural chemistry. Anyone with two eyes could see it.

She deserved a light that matched her own. Could I capture that light? Yes, I knew I could. But I’d been so terrible to her from the get-go; I wouldn’t blame her gravitating towards Josh—feeling safer with him.

Like he always said, he was the sun, and I was the moon. I naturally came with darkness. I’d made it clear enough by acting like an asshole for the first portion of my time living with her.

People who knew me knew I was notoriously terrible at reacting to hurt. I didn’t naturally know how to handle my emotions like Josh was practically born knowing to do.

And the moment I laid eyes on her that first night at the apartment—when she’d opened the door. . .her hair falling against her sweet face, her eyes opening to show me the most beautiful color I’d ever seen. I knew then that I was a goner.

But it’d seemed to be terrible timing at that instant. Feeling so drawn to her—it was coming right after I’d had the biggest life change. My heart was hurting—not necessarily broken, just . . . lost.

And I didn’t want her to be involved in the hopeless sea I’d been drowning in since my past troubles had come crashing down around me.

Though, when I’d first seen her, standing there, the evening sun hitting her stunning face in her doorway— I felt like all of the pirates I loved to study. I’d found a hidden treasure I couldn’t even imagine could be so beautiful— just around the bend for so long, finally in my grasp.

But I hadn’t known her. I hadn’t even met her. She was a treasure that wasn't mine to enjoy.

And I truly needed to heal, without bringing someone else down with me. I was scared of all I was feeling, and I only knew to react with bluntness, rudeness, irritation at every fucking turn. I’d even brought girls to bed to try to get her the fuck out of my mind.

But it never happened. She was persistently there, in my everyday routine, in the eyes of the girls I'd mindlessly fuck. She'd sealed a sweet spot in my brain.

But I’d still kept up with the douchebag act.

It was so unfair.

She’d tried so hard to be friendly, and I never greeted it well. I hadn’t known what to make of it all. That first night, Josh had said we were the same. Though, as he’d said this, I’d been watching her—so peaceful and beautiful, deep in a surely dreamful sleep.

It’d instantly made my stomach dip when he said it. . . I knew well enough that she couldn’t be the same as me.

But she was the same as Josh—pure, unadulterated bright, yellow sunshine. She was the sun on a spring day, flowers blooming and the grasses so green. Not a cloud in sight.

But I was the cloud in her flawless sky. I’d been reminded of that when she’d stopped us at Baby's, saying she didn’t want Josh to know. It seemed she didn’t want to take a chance on people knowing we’d been so close.

I could only assume she didn’t want that darkness in her life, and I didn’t blame her.

So I’d separated myself from her.

After that night, when Josh had told me of her being at our other gigs in June, I’d brushed it off. I knew why she was there—for Josh. I hadn’t even tried to seek her out because I knew that wasn’t what she wanted. She didn’t want me near her. Didn’t want people to know how close we had been.

How well her body shaped to mine in secret— and it was just that: a secret she wanted kept.

Especially wanted it kept from Josh. To him, she wanted us to be strictly roommates. So that’s what I’d decided I’d be for her.

I’d wanted to ask her to come to shows after our little stint, but I fought the urge every time it came on. I wanted her there, I fed off of her energy—she made me play better. But, I didn’t want to rub her the wrong way after she’d put her foot down in the bathroom. I didn’t want to come off too strong.

I’d also given my best attempt to not let my feelings show in the past weeks. It had been so hard anytime I’d meet her beautiful eyes. Her eyes that, over the past week, had seemed to turn from something hopeful when she looked my way to what could only be called disdain —disdain for me.

I had been an asshole, and she was better than that . . .

But, still, all I wanted was her. I wanted to take back everything I’d said or done out of hurt, due to not knowing how to handle my mess of feelings.

I wished I could go back to day one and make things different. I wished I could go back in time to stop myself from becoming a slab of stone to cope with my feelings. If I would have just been myself. . . Maybe I’d have her now— ever-endearing and enrapturing.

Fuck. And as I watched her tousle Josh’s hair, I just wanted to feel her fingers in mine again. My heart twinged with jealousy at the action.

“Look who’s here!”

Sam’s loud voice snapped me out of my reverie. I continued to watch her, her smile widened at Sam’s voice, looking in his direction, and away from Josh. Then, without warning, she looked over to me as I was still studying her face—the way her full lips stretched to show her beautiful beam.

But as soon as she looked at me, her smile fell. And all I wanted in that moment was for her smile to get bigger when she saw me, just as it had when she saw Sam.

I just wanted her.

I decided at that moment, I was going to bite the bullet. I could make one more move to be close to her again. And if there was one moment where she acted as if she didn’t want it, I’d back off.

But right now? I couldn’t see that happening. Couldn't see her backing off. She didn’t pull her eyes from mine, and I never let my gaze fall from hers. She held me with her stare, and I held her with mine.

It was just us.

And as I came up on her other side, opposite Josh, she never broke eye contact with me, turning from my twin. And even as Sam and Danny traveled behind me, she only looked at me.

I watched her chest rise and fall, the swell of her breasts making my mouth run dry from where they peeked out at the makeshift tear at the top of her shirt. The sugary sweet smell of her perfume made all of my senses lurch forward, wanting to take her—all of her— right at that moment.

I was close enough to see the shine from the Edison bulbs around us, reflecting in her irises.

Daniel and Sam came up to give her hugs, honestly acting completely oblivious to what was transpiring between us. Josh was chatting it up with the bartender, asking if he heard us from out here.

And finally, they all left to go play ping pong. They’d offered for us to go play, but she hadn’t even acknowledged them talking. I waved them off, and looked at them with a shake of my head. I felt her eyes continue to pore over me as she let me do the work to get them to leave.

Then, y/n and I were in our own world, I placed my forearm on the bar, my body curving to be around hers of its own accord. She followed by turning her whole body to face mine. It felt natural as she leaned into where I stood. She wasn’t quite touching me, but she let her own body follow all of my movements.

I couldn’t help but feel my chest puff as she let her body move with mine as I matched her, moving in time with her. I was the dull moth and she was the bright, alluring flame.

I wondered if it felt as seamless for her as it did for me, she sat her elbow on the bar, and leaned her hip against a stool. She went to sit on top of it, but she struggled with her footing, so I let my instincts take control and I helped her onto it. However I could help her, I wanted to.

I also wanted nothing more than to touch her, so that seemed like the perfect opportunity to kill two birds with one stone.

The gasp she released when I touched her, and lifted her the slightest bit to help her situate on the glittery plastic top of the stool, combined with the way her legs spread the slightest bit, her black jean shorts showing so much of her sweet, sun-kissed thighs—it made all of my blood rush through me and to a throbbing halt at the head of my cock.

I wanted to cross my legs to make sure it wouldn’t show what she was doing to me. But she was so magnetic, I couldn’t help the last step I took, towards the stool, to be closer to her. I was so close that my thighs touched her knees. Her knees, which she then crossed, in the process grazing the zipper of my jeans.

My breath caught in my chest, and my dick pulsed. She was still looking down at where she’d touched me, so I knew she saw what I felt happening in my pants.

She shot me a look, questioning all of this. And all I could do was look down at her, letting my eyes sweep over her entire outfit. So simple, yet so lovely, as always. She was wearing a cropped band tee (Cream. Fuck—did she do that on purpose?) and those cut off black denim shorts, with her black-colored toenails showing in a pair of cheap black flip flops.

I swallowed hard, feeling so entranced by her. My gaze went back to her face, the most appealing part of the woman. Her face was so open, so kind, so pretty—it had done nothing but draw me in since day one. And being so close to her again, I saw the familiar dusting of a few lighter freckles that dotted her nose. She was smiling—her eyes were smiling— at me.

Somehow it seemed she knew exactly what was going through my mind. Crazy how we’d been avoiding each other for the past couple of weeks, but now just clicked back together as if we were back at Baby’s All Right—in the cramped space of that bathroom.

I looked into her bright eyes, feeling something overwhelming come to life in my chest.

Fucking hell. She was perfect.

I needed this. I needed to feel this with her again. I’d missed it. The closeness.

“Hi,” I said with a nod, just loud enough for her ears to hear.

She blinked once, her eyes wide and wondering. Fuck. She was so damn cute.

Then, I watched fondly as her dimples showed in her cheeks with a soft grin. “Hi.”

End of Jake’s POV

-🌼🌼🌼-

It had been a decent amount of time since Jake had come up to stand right next to you, completely ruining any chance for sanity on your end.

He’d acted so normal, so forward. His actions were exactly what you’d needed to feel relieved—to know that all was okay.

You’d gotten nervous being around him, like Elsie would say, you were pretty sure you had a ‘good ‘ol crush.’ Nothing more. You focused on complimenting the set when you’d talked, asking simple questions, just to hear his voice explain the same things Josh already had. The raspiness in his tone was just delicious, and you wanted to hear the small things from his perspective more than anyone else’s.

When you weren’t listening to him talk, you pretended to be interested in the game on the flat screen—you had no clue what they were doing on the field, but it was distracting you from how sweaty your palms were getting at Jake being so close.

Though, you were now several beers (and a couple margaritas) in, previously deciding you wanted to make this night like old times where you’d get drunk and have fun with the guys. The boys’d come up to you a few times in your precious time being next to Jake. They’d bump you with a shoulder as they grabbed a drink. . . Josh only coming by once or twice, having been the chosen one to hold off, as he was the DD.

And, per usual, Sammy had chosen a game that would supposedly be much more fun, completely inebriated: ‘drunk ping pong.’

“Like normal ping pong, except you’re drunk!” Sam had excitedly said, his signature cackle following his words. He was right there with you on the 'shitface scale'.

Jake had barely left your side all night, and it felt so right to be so close to him, to stay with him. It felt right, just like it had before, except this time, it had nothing to do with anything sexual. . .it was just his simple presence that made you feel good.

(You weren't going to talk about how you'd felt his dick twitch in his tight jeans. . .because holy fuck. Your panties had been the victim when that had happened.)

By the middle of the ping pong game, you were still drinking. You felt light in the head, completely carefree. You even caught yourself leaning into Jake a few times, the two of you deciding to be a team against Sammy and Danny. Josh preferred being the referee for the game, getting a chance to nonstop talk by narrating the entire game.

At one point, you knew you were leaning back into him, but you were far too gone to care. You’d purposefully pressed your ass against his crotch, and he’d patiently repositioned you. You were grateful for him being so aware, because you knew you’d regret it in the morning if something stupid happened in front of your friends. You just couldn’t control your actions like a sober-you normally could.

You were in a body that was moving on its own, your brain barely registering what you’d do.

He’d repeatedly asked if you were doing alright, and you’d get so lost in his chocolate gaze you could only breathe a ‘yes’ in response.

And, now, as you settled into a booth inside the establishment, it was nearing 1 a.m., and you were simply listening to the guys talk about their next performance. And as you had been all night, you were next to Jake.

At this point, you were cuddled up next to him more than anything else. You felt so cozy with him. His body was a warm furnace for yours. You were sitting in a way that none of the other guys could see what you were doing. Because of them not seeing your bottom half, you situated a leg over his thigh, comfortably draping it the best you could to make it look as inconspicuous as possible (while simultaneously being incredibly drunk).

But you could barely worry about it when you leaned your head on his shoulder. You were sleepy. And he was warm, right, and close.

And he smelled so fucking good. Hints of sage and vanilla overwhelmed your senses, mixed with sweat. . .it was the perfect mixture that helped to lull you to sleep, along with the calming vibration of his voice as he talked with his brothers, your head laying on his shoulder perfectly placed for the melodic sound waves from his voice.

And right before you dozed off, you felt one of his calloused hands lay on your thigh, warm on your cooled skin. You snuggled into him, a small smile finding its way to your lips.

-🌼🌼🌼-

Before you knew it, the same hand was squeezing your thigh, urging you to wake up.

“Y/n. . .let’s go home,” his voice softly said, his minty breath hitting your face. Home. As your eyes wedged open, you looked up at him to find the apples of his cheeks redden with a deep laugh as he reacted to something Josh said.

If only you could just kiss him - right then and there.

You were still too out of it to register what Josh was saying, but you noticed the other three standing around the booth, Jake securely next to you still.

Your tummy fluttered at him being so attentive to you, and continued on that way as he helped you climb out (or rather squeak out of the booth, your bare thighs making racket against the seat).

“Y/n. . .,” Sam started, his voice way too high for him to be requesting your name for anything too serious. And still, you looked up at him as you finally edged your way to the very end of the red booth. “Did you fart?!”

The rest of the guys started chuckling with him, and you couldn’t help but join in as you went to punch his scrawny chest. “Shut the fuck up, you fucker.”

Danny whooped, beating a fist in the air. He started leading the way out of the bar. As you all followed, he turned to catch your eye briefly. “Y/n. . . coming in with some nasty ass insults tonight,” he laughed. “You’re killing it, Baby Dragon.”

“Haven't heard that one for a hot damn second,” Josh remarked, right behind Danny, waiting to hold the door open for you, Jake, and Sam. “Baby Dragon.”

Jake looked at you and Sam curiously, wanting an in on the nickname.

“Baby Dragon?” He questioned, taking the door from Josh to let you into the dark night, under his lifted arm.

“Game of Thrones,” was Sammy’s explanation, as he started teetering on his feet, balancing himself on the ledge of the sidewalk to keep himself busy. “Baby dragons.”

You could tell he was still wondering why, so you tried to extend Sam’s drunken response with your own woozy one. “I’m a baby dragon.”

Well, that made no damn sense, you thought, giggling to yourself.

The guys started busting up laughing, Jake still dipping his eyebrows in at you, a smile playing on his full lips. He was watching your every motion, continuing as you looped your arm with Sammy, trying to balance with him.

Josh continued, more lucid than either of you. “We watched Game of Thrones week after week at our apartment for about a year. . . binged it together,” he nodded his head toward you, smirking. “One of y/n’s favorite ways to bond is with a good television show. And she had been dying for us to watch it with her. So, we did.”

The curly headed twin then laughed at you and Sammy as you both nearly fell, making the same ridiculous sound as you almost went down. Sam thankfully recovered in time, even with his feet slippery in his Birkenstocks. He held you close to him. It made you laugh even harder as he playfully checked you for bumps and bruises.

“We deemed her Baby Dragon,” Danny finished.

Jake nodded, but he still wanted more information, looking left out. You also noticed him looking as though he’d discovered something. And then it clicked that Josh had exposed a bonding tactic of yours. You slapped your forehead, your reactions still slow, even after your nap, where you had snoozed off the tiniest bit of alcohol.

“Josh!” You scolded him, way past time. You still made no sense, randomly saying his name— you knew this.

But, the more Josh looked at you dubiously, you thought you’d leave it at that. You didn’t need to correct him for saying anything. Because, well, it really wasn’t that big of a deal, the more you thought of it. Maybe you were okay with Jake knowing you’d used TV to bond with him.

In this state, you could plainly admit that you wanted him to know your heart—all of your intentions. And you wanted to tell him all of your desires. . . Show him, even. You were craving him, especially after being so close with him all night. It felt nice.

You looked up to observe him at that moment, but he was checking his phone, his eyebrows crinkled. He looked up from it, clicking it closed and glancing to the street to see a car rolling up.

“Your Uber AWAITS!” Sam declared, motioning to the car that had pulled up to the curb, the black and white Uber sign in the corner of the window to confirm his words.

“Jake, you need to get a damn car,” Josh noted, opening the back door for you. “I’m tired of being your chauffeur. And Uber is going to get tired of you soon, too,” He caught your eye and winked, nodding over to your roommate. “Y/n, I’m thinking it’s your turn to cart Jake around everywhere he goes.”

You approached the nice little silver car, rolling your eyes at Josh, but still giving him a hug as you came up next to him. “Love you, Joshy,” you leaned in, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“I’m not taking any car advice from you, Mister Clunkerfuck,” he commented plainly. It made you burst out with laughter. “Your car is on its last fuckin�� leg. It’s going to break down on you at the worst possible moment and I’m not going to feel bad. I think you’re the one who needs to get a car—a new one.”

Sam started drunkenly singing a track you hadn’t heard that included the lyrics ‘you’re the one’. His actions were dramatic, only Danny paid him any mind, starting to sing with him, being just as goofy.

You were still thinking of what Jake had said. It was exactly how you thought of Josh’s car.

“Clunkerfuck,” you smiled in Jake’s direction. Though, when you caught his eye, he looked a little downcast, you just couldn’t pin why. Maybe you were seeing it, all dazed out. “Good one, Jakey.”

Jakey? It did register in time that you’d called him that, and you were instantly embarrassed by your nickname for him. Too far. So, you hurriedly got in the car, your cheeks flushing as you haphazardly yelled goodbyes to the other guys.

“Nighty night, Baby Dragon,” Josh had said with a laugh, calling you the nickname once more, closing the door behind you. You’d honestly forgotten about the nickname. . .it had been so long since they’d used it.

Before you knew it, Jake was scooting into the passenger seat to offer an address to the driver.

He doesn’t want to sit next to me? You thought, sadly. But he chose to be close to me the rest of the night. . . Why not now?

You tried not to look too disappointed on the outside as he was back to ignoring you for the twenty minute drive back to your place. He paid you no mind, and didn’t even care to check on you like he had all night, on the ride back.

You weren’t able to give it much thought as you looked at the GPS and reasoned you could get a good nap in on the way home. Drinking always made you feel so tired.

You laid your head against the cooled window next to you. Jake’s naturally husky (fucking sexy) tone as he spoke to the driver, was the last thing you heard semi-coherently.

You let the car sway you to sleep for the last 10-ish minutes of the drive back, only one handsome man, with long hair and a voice that dripped of sex, waiting behind your lids as they closed.

-🌼🌼🌼-

You were still feeling loopy as Jake helped you up the stairs to the apartment.

You’d had way too much to drink. You needed sleep.

Once you entered the apartment, it was so quiet and dark. . .you needed light. So, you felt against the wall to switch the light on. But, you instantly regretted it, covering your eyes with both hands.

“My eyes!” You yelped, way too dramatically. And when you peeked through your fingers, you saw Jake stooped down, next to Stevie’s dish, giving her a scoop of food. She nudged her little gray head against his hand. Your heart squeezed at the sight. But it was still too bright. “My eyes!”

With two hands still covering your eyes, you sauntered, on unsteady foot in front of the other, back towards the switch you’d used to flip the lights on.

But before you could get to the switch, you knocked into a chair, sending you back onto your ass. Yet again, dramatically.

“Ow!” You moved a hand from your eyes to massage your sore butt, and as you did, you saw Jake moving to switch the lights off. You were once again cloaked in darkness, but he turned the lamp on closest to him. You sighed, your ass not hurting as much as you’d imagined it had. Now you only cared about the lights, how perfectly dimmed the room was. “Ahhh. . .Much better.”

Your lids were drooping again, and you were not looking forward to getting back up on wobbly feet to make the trek to your bedroom.

Deciding the floor was a comfy enough bed for the night, you laid back, curling onto your side, your hands under your left cheek to make a pillow.

-🌼🌼🌼-

Jake’s POV

Her eyes slid closed. I watched her, a small grin on my face. So adorable.

But, she was so gone. I felt bad appreciating her being so cute while she was so incoherent.

So instead of taking advantage, I’d taken it upon myself to watch over her and make sure she was alright all night. I kept my drinking to a minimum so I could keep a careful eye on her.

We’d spent the whole night together, enjoying each other’s company (even if she had been slightly—very—drunk). It’d felt so right.

My heart had beat at being like that with her in a similar way it did when we’d watch New Girl together. But, it was different tonight. Instead of only sitting on a couch, we’d been together, walking around, playing, her willingly (albeit drunkenly) falling asleep on my shoulder, a smooth leg draped over mine (holy fuck, by the way).

We hadn’t really gotten the chance to talk a whole lot, thanks to my brothers demanding our attention. The only talking we had partaken in had been very little. And it’d only been about what she’d thought of the set, little questions she had for me. We’d mostly just taken time to be next to each other.

For me, it’d felt like coming back home.

I had just watched her as she watched the game on a TV in front of us (didn’t peg her as a girl who liked sports, but whatever), occasionally looking over at me to share a secret smile, making my skin hot with want for her.

I’d hoped, sitting there on those barstools, that she’d felt it with me—the whole cheesy ass ‘coming home’ thing.

But then, having to stand there and watch her kiss Josh on the cheek at the end of the night . . .that had been a kick in the fuckin’ ass. I’d literally felt my heart sink in my chest as I watched them, their respective energies feeding off of the other so well. . . they were practically one.

He’d even helped her into the car, once again calling her that ‘baby dragon’ thing that I couldn’t understand at all. I couldn’t understand her the way he could—the way all of the guys could. I hadn’t been around to get to know her with the rest of them. I wasn’t in sync with her like they were—like Josh was.

I was late to the game. Probably too late.

Though, when we got home, I still wanted to help her with a few small things . . . It was impossible for me not to try and help her (even if she didn’t fit as well with me as she did my brother).

And at this moment, I could tell that she was going to let herself sleep on the floor.

But I wasn’t going to let that happen.

Bending down next to her beautiful body, I couldn’t help but bite my lip when I saw her round ass peeking out from the bottom of her shorts. She was filled out in all of the right places—an absolute fucking masterpiece.

Then I heard a little whimper in her sleep. A sigh, as she probably started slipping into dreamland. I felt my dick harden just the slightest bit when I thought of hearing those same whimpers through the walls. . . how she’d said my name in her sleep a few times — moaned it, even. . . Off in her dreams where I could have only hoped to meet her.

I’d spent many mornings so sexually fucking frustrated with how close, yet so far she was. So many times—I was there, right next door to her as my name would slip from her lips. And with only a thin wall between us, I’d jerked my cock into a hand I’d imagined was her sweet pussy, having to bite my lip to keep from saying her name.

Fuck. I palmed at my crotch, willing my dick to soften. Now was not the time.

I touched her shoulder, nudging her a bit. “Y/n. . .come on, wake up. You don’t wanna sleep on the floor.”

She sighed again, “Yes, I do,” she retorted.

And then she moaned as she snuggled further into the carpet. Her moan. Fuck. She was like a damn good drug.

“No, you don’t,” I scooped my hands under her back, ready to carry her to bed. “I’ll carry you if you don’t move yourself. Come on.”

I saw her lids flutter, eyes still closed. A little smirk graced her features. “Carry me, Jakey,” she mused.

There she was using that nickname for me again, I thought. It sounded so much better, sweeter coming from her lips than I’d ever heard it.

And when I let both of my hands totally slip under her, scooping her into my arms, and against my chest, her eyes blinked open, still slightly hooded. Her eyebrows curved in, the look she was giving me telling me she hadn’t believed I would do it.

She wiggled, arguing. “Jake. You don’t have to,” wiggle. “Carry,” wiggle. “Me.”

I gripped her a bit tighter, but did give her a chance to climb out of my arms. “I’ll let you walk if you want to,” I continued, letting my guard down with my next words. “But I really like being this close to you. . .feeling you against me.”

When she looked at me again, it was as if she’d totally sobered at what I’d said (even though I knew better). Her eyes were inquiring, but so full of an emotion I couldn’t fully place in that moment. All I knew was her unnamed emotion somehow perfectly matched the thrum of my heart in my chest.

“Me too.”

And then she looped her arms around my neck, bringing my face down to meet hers, just as we’d made it to her room.

I couldn’t help it. I let myself give in to her apparent want in that moment, and met her lips with mine.

End of Jake’s POV

-🌼🌼🌼-

As Jake carried you further into your room, to your bed, you never let your lips leave his. Even as he laid you down on your bed, you kept kissing him.

Yes, you thought. This. This is what I needed. I needed him.

You knew you weren’t totally sober, but when he’d said what he did about liking the feeling of being close to you. . . it had made your heart leap into your throat with joy. Because you’d been hoping he still felt like that. You’d been hoping so hard to hear words like that, that it had kind of snapped you from your drunken daze.

And having him on top of you, laying his body between your legs that naturally opened to make room for him. . .the feeling was divine.

Having Jake with you, it was more than the alcohol that still lingered in your system. You wished you hadn’t let yourself get so wasted tonight, wished you'd have taken him coming closer to you as a sign to not make tonight ‘like old times’. You realized that you wanted it to be new times—times where Jake was here. Things were different with him around.

And now that you were so far away from the beginnings of him living with you, seeing him show bits of himself, outside of his shroud, throughout June. . . knowing what his lips tasted like—you could admit that having him around was a good type of different.

Your mouth opened, needing his tongue to meet yours. As soon as it entered your mouth, you sucked on it, loving the taste, the feeling of it, safe in your mouth.

Needing to be closer to him, you leaned up the slightest bit. You had to feel your skin against his. Closer, closer.

You separated your mouth from his, your lips wet, probably looking just like his: swollen and pink.

His eyes were dark, lids hooded, encouraging you. You tugged at his shirt, and he got the idea. Thanks to not buttoning his shirts all the way, he was able to slip his short sleeve floral button down over his head. As he did that, you reached around the hem of your old T-shirt, taking it off.

But before you could throw it to the side, he reached a hand out to grab it, turning the front of it to face you. The members of Cream, staring at you from the splotch of white on black material.

“Does it get you off?” He questioned, an eyebrow raised. “Turning me on with these little outfits you wear to the shows?”

You smirked, your eyes hazing with want for him. He’d liked your choice of shirt. It hadn’t irritated him. You had made progress. You weren’t at square one anymore. Thank God.

“You liked it?” You rhetorically asked. “You were all I thought about when I put it on.”

His eyes glazed over, just like your own. He liked that.

He huffed, his mouth forming a grin before leaning down to nip at your lips, throwing the shirt to the side. His hands found your thighs, lifting them around his hips. He sucked your bottom lip, moving his tongue to lick into your mouth, his mouth following yours as you melted into the feeling, needing more.

You pushed him away again, using the time he was leaned back to take your shorts off. He helped you so you didn’t have to awkwardly wriggle out of them. You flashed your eyes at him, smiling with them.

Then once they were gone, you sat up fully, legs falling from around his hips, to help him. You messed with the button of his jeans.

He placed his hand over yours, stopping you. You looked up to question him. And as you did, he was already laying you back down, honed in on the sight of your chest that hadn’t stopped heaving since you’d kissed him.

“Did you think of me when you put this on?” He pulled at the strap of your bra- the same bralette you’d had on the night you’d first kissed. His eyes looked down at the rest of your body, palms running smoothly up your thighs, and over the curves of your hips, giving them a firm squeeze that made you thrust up towards him. His eyes found yours, completely dark. “Don’t start with that.”

Okay, I will, you thought, ready to tease him.

You moved a leg to be between both of his, bending it at the knee, causing it to rub against his crotch ever so slightly, then you brought it back down to lay beside your other leg, looking up at him, eyes innocent.

“Oops,” you smirked, watching his own lips quirk.

But as soon as his mouth lifted, it fell into a frown. His eyes squeezed shut, brows drew in, his jaw suddenly set as he ground his teeth. . .

He looked . . . Frustrated?

He started shaking his head and quickly grabbed his shirt, going to get off the bed.

What the fuck?

It made you sit up again, like you had minutes before, but out of alarm this time.

“Jake?” You worriedly asked, getting off your bed to follow him, clothes be damned.

He didn’t respond, only grumbled something under his breath. You couldn’t understand him and you were wondering what in the hell was going on.

As you followed him out of your room and a few steps to his room at the end of the hallway, you grabbed his arm before he could open the door to his room.

“What’s going on? Are you—?.”

He roughly shook your hand off of his arm.

“Y/n. Go to bed,” he gruffly said, his next words made your throat tighten up even more than his initial tone. “It was a fucking mistake and you need to leave me alone. Go to bed.”

Your mind was suddenly on high alert, ignoring any kind of lingering effects of alcohol, you swallowed the lump in your throat.

What the fuck was his fucking problem?

A mistake? That's what you were?

“Jake. . .,” you went to grab his arm again, but he turned before you could, facing you. His eyes were stern, dark with anger. It stunned you, so opposite of how he’d been all night. You continued on, not letting his reaction to you, deter you, “You don’t. . .,” swallow the tears, y/n. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do,” he confirmed. Your chest tightened, you took a step back. “We can’t keep—just go to bed. Leave me alone.”

Your sadness quickly turned to bitterness. . . spitefulness. All of a sudden, you were extremely aware of your state of undress. You felt completely embarrassed from the rejection. You covered your body the best you could.

“Fine,” you turned quickly on your heel, needing to get away from him and back to the safety of your bedroom. You were suddenly feeling anxious, upset, and ready to recluse. “Good-fucking-night, Jake. I’ll give you what you want. I’ll leave you the fuck alone.”

“Wait, y/n,” you heard his voice behind you.

But you ignored him, gave him a taste of his own medicine.

Asshole. Fucking asshole. How could someone change so quickly? Be two different people in the span of minutes-time? He had just been telling you how he liked being close to you, he’d barely left you all night. . . Even approached you at the bar, for seemingly no reason but to simply be with you.

But now? Now you were a mistake.

Fuck him.

“Y/n. . .please, I’m just—.”

Sharply, you spun to face him once you’d made it to your bedroom. You cut him off. “Fuck you, Jake.”

You let your emotions reflect with an icy glare in his direction.

Just before you shut the door to your room, you saw his face, completely crestfallen.

When you got back into bed, you curled up into yourself, and angry tears were your sad lullaby to get to sleep. You tried to be quiet enough so he wouldn’t possibly hear you.

You’d had enough embarrassment for one night and you didn’t want to give him any more reason to judge you, be angry with you, or worst of all—pity you.

As you fell asleep that night, you couldn’t help but think that his sorrowful expression had matched exactly how you felt. Had he been sad? What gave him the right to be sad when he’d cut it off? Called it a mistake?

You worked to push him as far from your mind as you possibly could. You didn’t want to think of him.

He was impossible to understand. As soon as you thought you had an idea of the man, he changed, confusing the hell out of you.

You tossed and turned, wondering why you still so desperately wanted to understand him. Why did it still matter? He shouldn’t matter.

When you finally faded to a restless sleep, you made the decision that you were going to try your hardest to not give a fucking damn about your roommate.

You apparently weren’t worth his time, so he shouldn’t be worth yours.

You’d meant what you told him.

Fuck Jake Kiszka.

-🌼🌼🌼-

As the week faded into the next, you’d made it your personal mission to make it perfectly clear to him that you were not giving him any of your time or attention.

You used one of his earlier tactics and didn’t come out for anything except to eat, shower, go to work, go to class. You tried to avoid seeing him when you knew he was home, so thankful for the work schedules that still got posted on the fridge.

He now had the additional schedule which showed when they had performances or practices, giving you a couple nights within that week to laze around the apartment with no worries of running into him.

Occasionally, he tried to stop you to talk to you as you would pass each other. But you weren’t having it. You would cut him off with a wave, a short ‘no’ or a curt ‘goodbye’ as you left the apartment to do your own thing.

You wanted to make it clear that you were done with whatever the hell you two had been dancing around for the past month. What he didn’t need to know was that you were mostly doing it to convince yourself that you were done with it.

In the moments he tried to stop you, you would just get hurt all over again that he seemed to be so desperate to beat the dead fucking horse—explain his hateful words. That was all he could possibly want. What else?

And you didn’t want that.

Why did he seem so intent on stopping you to just explain what a mistake being with you had been?

Drawing a line was imperative.

You had to convince yourself that you didn’t still want him and that you didn’t have several passing thoughts of him throughout your days.

It was much harder than you’d anticipated. Being your roommate, he was still everywhere you turned. No matter how hard you tried to escape him, he was there. In your shared home, in your thoughts, in conversations with Josh. . .

And in your fucking dreams.

Several days during that blessed week of ignoring him, you woke up in a sweat wanting only him. Your body was calling out to be touched by him.

And then you had the weak moments. The ones when you’d accidentally run into him, and you wanted to let your guard down, let him know you were hurting more than anything. You wanted to talk to him— wanted to know where he stood.

But every time, you'd bit your tongue to stop yourself.

He’d said it himself—you were a mistake.

So, that’s why you never gave in to the temptation to let him talk, or let him know your own feelings about it all.

-🌼🌼🌼-

Classes were a great distraction from what was going on in your heart and home.

Being able to dedicate your time to something completely unrelated to your roommate was exactly what you needed.

Spending more time on things like class work meant less time to think about Jake.

Though, it wasn’t necessarily doing what your family had intended it to. They’d wanted you to take a summer class to get your mind focused back on writing, use the class as a chance to get your passion for writing back.

But just as it had been before the summer class, your love—your passion for writing just wasn’t there anymore.

For some reason, when Jake had come into your life, it'd helped you realize for the first time in years, just how important music was to you. He brought out this spark that had faded. Being able to be around someone so often who was on the same page when it came to a passion for the art of music—it had done something impeccable for you.

(He’d done it unintentionally—unknowingly—, of course, as he’d hated your guts when you’d started feeling that incredible pull towards music again.)

And then there was the day in your summer class that pieces started clicking in your head. Slight identity crisis, if you may.

It had come to you when you’d been prompted to discuss and write about inspirations for pursuing writing. And in that moment, you’d realized you couldn’t think of any other reason you’d pursued your degree save for you wanting to be just like Elsie. (And the added bonus of your grandfather encouraging against a pursuit in a musical degree- at all costs.)

You’d set your sights on Elsie years ago as your number one role model. Your mother had left you with only your older sister to inspire you. Elsie loved writing, so in turn, you’d decided that you would also love writing.

It was her dream. And, unfortunately, you were only just now realizing that maybe it wasn’t fully yours, as you embarked on your senior year of college.

Terrible timing for Jake to enter your life and bring out that flame you’d always had for music.

Another strange thing that had come along with Jake entering the picture were thoughts of your mother. More than you’d ever really had before.

Thanks to Elsie having to use your forgotten past to help you have a better understanding of Jake, your mom had been in more thoughts than you were comfortable with as of late.

You hated thinking of her. But after that conversation, every time you saw a child with his or her mother, you had this giant burst of longing in your heart that you couldn’t put a name to.

It was truly odd, but the sight brought you this sense of impending healing.

Were you finally on a path to figuring out who you truly were in the aftermath of her leaving?

You had no clue what the pull on your heart meant.

All you knew was, there were a lot of changing feelings that were quite different than anything you’d felt in the past several years of your life. In those many years since your mother had left you broken on the porch step at ten years old—you’d simply gone about everything in life in a sort of monotone style.

Rather than thinking with your heart, you’d just followed a gray wave. You’d never taken a real initiative to understand yourself. The waves of life had carried you, and you’d let them, willingly.

It had been easier—more comfortable— than actually taking time to think about yourself and what you wanted.

But Jake. . .he’d been the cause of bringing about the most feelings you’d had since your mother left in her blaze of glory. He’d brought out pieces of you that you hadn’t come in contact with since you were ten years old and vulnerable, screaming and crying for your mom to come back as she left you, broken.

But with the feelings this time, it truly felt more like a yearning to be more. You felt this sense of understanding for yourself that you hadn’t ever had before.

In some backwards way, he was helping you get to know these pieces of yourself you’d kept in the dark for far too long. Pieces that needed time, attention, and love.

It was fucking weird.

You didn’t understand the anatomy of it all.

But you desperately wanted to learn more about these parts of yourself you were discovering.

-🌼🌼🌼-

In order to push through the class (and your degree), you decided it was a good idea to pair up with a study buddy.

You needed someone to help motivate you to keep going—finish with a skip in your step, rather than falling into a pitiful slump.

It’s why you decided to ask Theo to be that person after class one day.

Surely that was a reason he’d floated back into your life. Help you stay motivated to get this degree. You didn’t know.

And maybe it could be more. . .he would end up assisting to help you get your mind away from Jake. You didn’t need to be distracted by your roommate.

Everything happens for a reason, after all. And maybe these were Theo’s reasons in your life.

He’d agreed with no hesitation, which had made a giant smile plaster to your face.

But why, when you were leaving class, had you felt as though something had fallen to the bottom of your gut?

-🌼🌼🌼-

“Fiction or non?”

You were splayed out on your bedroom floor, with Theo across from you. As he’d pored over his textbook, he kept coming up with questions to ask you.

Sure, it might be cute and endearing in a normal circumstance. But right now, you wanted to focus on studying for a couple of upcoming tests, as summer semesters were the worst at moving so damn quickly.

There were more important matters at hand than nonsensical small talk.

Deciding to humor him (and hopefully get back to the task at hand), you responded. “Hmm. . .,” you sat up from where you’d been laying on your stomach to read about Geoffrey Chaucer. “They both have special things about them—both stretch our minds to understand more about other worlds and our own,” you paused, giving it a second to ponder. “Are we talking writing-wise or reading-wise?”

He chuckled, and winked at you. “It doesn’t have to be something you think so deeply about,” he closed his textbook. What was he doing? You still had to make flash cards! “Pretend we’re playing a game and it’s rapid fire questions.”

You didn’t want to be playing a game. You wanted to be sinking your teeth into the intricacies of this author in order to ace your test.

You shook your head, your eyes stuck on his closed book. “Fuck,” you scratched your eyebrow. Your mind flicked to music: fun to write and read about. You were actually currently reading a book about John Lennon. You had many books on your TBR list about famous musicians. A most intriguing subject, in your opinion. “Non-fiction.”

His face scrunched up. “Nah,” he disagreed. “Fiction.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” his stare was blank in response. “Don’t really have to think too hard about it.”

You tried not to roll your eyes at him. In your opinion, thinking hard about what you were writing or reading was what made it most desirable. It made you venture into undiscovered realms of your mind.

When you went to lean back over your book, the movement made you realize just how badly your bladder was begging to be released.

Stupidly, you thought of the ridiculous work schedule on the fridge.

Why the hell couldn’t you just let yourself go to the damn bathroom without thinking about Jake? You knew it was fucking ludicrous. You just didn’t want to see him. When you pulled up the picture of the fridge on your phone, you saw you were in the clear. He should still be at band rehearsal.

You tapped your open book, giving Theo a sign that he needed to open his back up. “I’m going to the bathroom real quick,” you stood up, the wave of having to pee rushing through you tenfold at the motion. He still hadn’t gotten the hint to open up his textbook. Ugh. “I’ll be back soon and then we will make our cards for the test.”

And as you exited the room, you saw him finally get back to business and open his book back up.

-🌼🌼🌼-

You dried your hands on the towel next to the sink, and took a look at yourself in the mirror.

He sort of annoyed you, but Theo was still cute, and he’d made you happy in high school. You weren’t totally opposed to the idea of kissing him (or maybe more) by the end of the night.

It seemed to you to be another good plan to get your mind off of Jake.

And Theo seemed interested enough. Considering he’d been more interested in learning about you, rather than the material for class all night (irritating, but whatever).

Deciding you looked good enough to return, you opened the door to go back. And as you went to walk out, you stopped at a chest in your way. You got dizzy at the smell—smelled so fucking good—familiar. . .

You looked up.

Jake.

Your eyebrows pinched together, not happy at all that you’d crossed paths. Fucking hell. Why wasn’t he. . .?

“We’ve gotta stop meeting like thi—.”

You held a hand up to silence him, crossing your arms. “Why aren’t you at band practice?”

Why the fuck was he cracking jokes? You were not in the mood.

“Ended early,” his face hardened when he shrugged, stating it plainly.

“Why didn’t you just stay with the guys?” You asked, secretly glad he didn’t. For whatever reason. “You could have hung out with them instead of coming back here.”

“Oh,” he stuck his chin out at the word and leaned a shoulder against the door-hinge. He raised a brow and crossed his arms to mirror you. “I see.”

You definitely didn’t glance at how his bicep flexed as his fingers wrapped around it. And you didn’t take time to appreciate his beautiful hair. . . had it started getting slightly longer?

You shook your head, retraining your eyes.

“Tell me, Jake, what do you see?” You snapped, flicking your eyes up to his.

He scoffed, rolled his eyes. “Saw that guy lying on your bedroom floor, waiting for you. He was even sweet enough to wave at me when he saw me pass your room,” he sarcastically remarked, waving his hand to mimic.

“We’re just studying,” you hushed back, feeling the (unnecessary) need to reassure him.

He scoffed. “You think that’s all it is to him?”

You narrowed your eyes and pursed your lips before you pulled him by his T-shirt into the bathroom. You weren’t going to discuss this in a place Theo could possibly hear.

“I know that’s all it is,” you released his shirt like you were repulsed by the touch, when in reality you wanted nothing more than to pull it completely off of him. Damn him. "Why does it matter?"

“It doesn’t. Just think it’s funny how you’re so naive to believe he doesn’t want more.”

“He doesn’t.”

“Do you?”

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t. I just think it’s also a little funny that you might want me out just so you can fuck that guy in your bedroom,” he nodded his head in the direction of your room.

Oh. He was taking it there. Okay.

“Yeah? And if I wanted to?” You jutted your chin out the slightest bit, bringing your arms closer, to press against your chest. “How is it any of your damn business?”

He stepped once towards you, eyeing your chest, the tops of your breasts revealed, pushed up to the top of your tank. Your skin flushed, heart racing.

His voice lowered. “It became my business the night you spread your legs for me at Baby’s,” one more step towards you, his eyes locking with yours. Fuck. “When I had you moaning my name while my mouth played between your pretty legs,” another step. “I think you gave yourself away that night. I don’t buy this little act.”

Oh.

Fuck. . . If your heart wasn’t racing.

You blinked, shaking your head. You tried to stand firm. “Wh-what act?” Dammit. Why were you stuttering?

Stand your ground, y/n, you thought, motivating yourself to stay strong.

But as he took one more step in, your body was effectively once again trapped between his body and a sink. Thankfully, he hadn’t pressed himself up to your front, so you weren’t distracted by that.

You tried to hold your own.

But shit. . .he was so close. Your skin flared with heat, your heart still beating erratically in your chest.

As you were making direct eye contact with the chest of his white t-shirt, you craned your neck to see his face fully.

“What act, Jacob?”

He shook his head. A little smirk played at his mouth. He brought his hand up to hold your cheek. Your skin was on fire for him and his touch.

You couldn’t help it when you leaned into his hand, letting your cheek press into his calloused flesh.

He licked his lips. “You tell me,” he whispered lowly, nodding his head once at you.

And you couldn’t help it, his deep brown eyes pulled you in. He was begging to be touched. You had to feel him.

Leaning in, you held his cheek just as he held yours. He then took the chance, and captured your lips with his.

Ah. His lips. So soft.

Your vision was hazy, eyes still open, you saw how his eyebrows dipped in with a moan. You matched the sound, closing your eyes, and slipped your tongue into his mouth, tangling it with his.

You heard him shut the door with the hand that wasn’t holding your face.

He then moved that hand from your face, reaching both hands under your ass, giving it a firm squeeze before he lifted you the short distance to sit on the bathroom countertop.

You bit his bottom lip, getting another small moan from him. He did the same to you and then soothed the spot with his tongue. You sighed into his mouth.

Reaching both hands up, you sunk them into his dark, brunette locks. He matched every movement of your lips with his own, and then licked one wet stripe on the roof of your mouth.

You were able to gasp for air when he moved his mouth from yours to give the softest, small kisses to your neck. Though it didn’t last long before he turned his pecks into wet, open-mouthed kisses. The slightest stubble of hair on his lip skimmed against your sensitive skin. He worked from under your jaw, all the way up, to the tender spot behind your ear.

Shivering with a sigh, you gripped his hair tighter, pulling him in as close as he could be to you, on the counter. You felt his hardening length against your center when you did so, making you immediately grind into him.

And when he did the same to the other side of your neck, this time, he nipped at the skin behind your ear. You bucked your hips into his. He released a groan that echoed through the small bathroom, making you want to melt into it.

“More,” you breathed, clutching him closer, making sure the front of you stayed connected to him. Feeling his hard length through the material of his jeans was almost too much, but you craved it. You needed it.

More.

But, the next moment, you heard a little cough from your bedroom, right next door.

It snapped you from your daze. You were suddenly hyper aware that it was not just you two in the apartment. You had to stop.

You pushed him back, jumping off the counter. When you looked in the mirror to check your face and neck, your lips were swollen and your cheeks were flushed. Your neck was still pink from where he’d been. You checked where he’d bit behind your ear, and seeing the redness back there made you want to hop right back onto that counter. Let him have his way with you— right there. Theo be fucking damned.

But you knew better.

Tucking some hair behind your ear, you tried to make yourself look slightly presentable.

From behind you, he was brushing a hand through his hair, when he went to smooth a hand over his cheeks, his jaw stretching with the motion. He was contemplative.

His eyebrows drew together, curious. You couldn’t tell if he was upset. He mostly looked . . .confused.

He removed his hand from his face when his eyes found yours in the mirror, open and wondering. He looked desperate to understand.

“What do you want, y/n?”

You didn’t know what in the hell to tell him.

You wanted Jake. And you wanted him bad. But somehow saying it out loud seemed too difficult at the moment.

And how could you say that to him when he’d so recently, blatantly told you that you were a mistake?

“I don’t know, Jake,” you whispered back, still looking at your blushing cheeks, messy hair, and freshly kissed lips. You’d need a minute to let your skin return to its normal shade before going back to your room.

You turned to face him.

When you saw him, looking so beautiful, so lost. . . You thought of how lost you’d felt for the past couple weeks. His words were once again flashing back through your head.

“It was a fucking mistake and you need to leave me alone.”

It still hurt as you could see him so clearly in the doorway of his bedroom, angry and insistent that you do what he said and leave him alone.

But tonight? Crowding you in here to make out on the bathroom counter? Did he truly want that? For you to leave him alone?

“What do you want?” You leveled him with a stare, your tone sharp, but keeping your voice low since Theo was one room over. You pointed a finger in his chest. “You say you want me to leave you alone, but then you trap me in here like this?”

He shook his head, a dimple showing again with a sarcastic grin. After tucking a lock of hair behind his ear, he put the same hand in his pocket.

“Oh, there is no way you are going to turn this around on me,” he matched your quiet tone, understanding. “And trap you? Okay, Little Miss ‘Fuck Me, Jake,’” he used air quotes to remind you of your words from the night at Baby’s.

Fuck.

Of course he remembered you’d said that. Why wouldn’t he?

You decided to ignore it, focusing back on him.

“You’re the one who said it was a mistake! That I needed to leave you alone,” you protested, anger flaring in your chest.

He covered his eyes with a hand, the veins in the hand catching your eye. You’d never noticed how masculine his hands were. And damn if he didn’t know how to use them . . . Even in this moment, debating with him, you wanted them touching every part of you. You wanted his skilled fingers, flexing inside of you.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” His eyes were sad when he moved his hand, when you saw the brown irises again. But there was a fire behind them still. “Dammit, y/n. Why do you insist on assuming the worst about me all the fucking time? I’m not the one who can’t make up my mind about what I want,” he leaned back against the wall behind him, crossing his arms. “One minute you’re kissing me. You’re with me, naked and ready as I’m pressing into you,” his voice was being raspy, along with the picture he was drawing. . . It made your cheeks pink. You could still feel what he felt like, pressing against you, throbbing. . .so close to being inside of you. He went on, “And the next moment you’re shoving me away from you, making sure to tell me that Josh doesn’t need to know what we’re doing.”

Of course some of this had to do with Josh. You’d had the smallest inkling, based on how weird he’d acted when you set the rules.

Stupid.

“I knew you were making it all weird with Josh. . . is this all about Josh?! You know that he and I—.”

“No! It’s about you and how you make it impossible for us to—.”

“You told me to go away!”

“And you told me to stop,” he said back, his smoky voice still hushed. “More than once.”

Your chest heaved, knowing he was right, but you were so lost on how to explain it all. “There were reasons every time.”

“Reasons,” he scoffed. “So are you going to keep having these reasons? Keep stopping it? Why do you keep letting it happen if all you’re going to do is make us stop?”

“Last time you stopped us, Jake!” You defended, focusing on keeping your voice low. “Not me. You walked away and called it a mistake.”

He covered his face with both hands, growling. You shushed him.

He took his hands away to show his jaw set, clenching with frustration. “You were drunk, y/n!” He begged you to understand, “I wasn’t going to do anything with you without you being in full and total control of yourself.”

You were sure your expression showed it all clicking. You blinked at him. It all made so much sense now.

And what he’d done? His true intentions? Fuck. Sexy as hell.

Maybe you really did need to stop assuming the worst. You just couldn’t help it. It was a trauma response. Jumping to conclusions, thinking that people didn’t want you. . .

Your mom didn’t want you, so you were always convinced other people wouldn’t either.

Especially men who were as beautiful and mesmerizing as Jake Kiszka.

Damn. Now it really was all on you. How did you even begin to lay it all out?

You looked him dead in the face, completely unsure of how to articulate the mess in your head.

“I don’t know,” you covered your face with both hands, mimicking him and frustratedly groaning into your palms. When you removed them from your face, you tucked them into your front pockets. You decided to assure him of one thing. For whatever reason, you wanted—needed him to know this. “I do want you. I want what we almost had in the bathroom at Baby’s,” You stepped towards him, wanting to be close to him again. You placed a delicate hand on his chest. He looked down at you, as you looked up into his eyes, reaching to hold your hand on his chest. Your skin tingled at his touch. “I need to feel you, to be with you. . . it just never seems like the right time. There’s always something.”

You didn’t know why you’d suddenly felt the urge to be vulnerable with him. He kept your hand on his chest, holding you, his eyes meeting yours in understanding.

And you knew then that it was just him. Jake Kiszka, in and of himself, made you feel this strange sense of safety, comfortability.

And it was different from the kind his twin had offered you as your friend for so many years.

With Jake, you weren’t just friends. You weren’t even really friends. . .it was something else—an intense, unavoidable attraction. The safe feeling came combined with this desire to be with him.

He felt like a resting ground.

It was weird.

But you liked it.

He smoothed a thumb over your hand on his chest. You held his deep gaze, getting lost in it.

And out of nowhere, he leaned down, kissing your lips with his. Just for a moment.

You felt it all the way down to your toes. The feeling of him so close, with one simple kiss from his soft lips, it felt perfectly intimate.

He released his hold on your hand, wrapping his hand around your waist instead, eyes connected with yours. It was as though he just wanted to touch you, have his hands on you.

It was what you wanted, too. Just the feeling of his hand, as it moved down to just over your hip, his thumb on the skin underneath the hem of your gray tank top. . .it felt right.

He penetrated the thickness in the air with his low, gravelly tone. His eyes were vulnerable as he asked, “Do you want that? To find the right time?”

You reached a hand up, holding his handsome face. You smoothed a thumb over his skin, tracing a freckle on his cheek. “I do. I promise I do,” you blinked up at him, needing his answer to that question. “And do you? Wanna find the right time?”

This was so much, butterflies flew rampant in your tummy.

The grin he gave you was loose, his eyes relieved and open. “I really do.”

It felt so amazing to hear it straight from his lips. He really wanted it too.

You’d overthink all of this later.

He leaned down to kiss you again. You reciprocated, for just a moment, letting your lips move with his.

Then you pulled back, your hand falling from his face.

You nodded at the door. “I gotta get back to studying.”

His hand that was holding your hip squeezed slightly, your skin heating at it. You caught his eye, the intense feeling setting in your beating heart.

“Is that all you’re doing?” His eyes were dark and questioning, making your head spin. “Studying?”

You winked at him, still holding onto your teasing from earlier. “It’s whatever I want it to be.”

His eyes seemed to darken more, pulling you in so your chest touched his. So warm. “I really don’t want to hear another guy fucking you through these walls.”

You pressed closer to him, your body thrumming with fire. “Funny coming from the guy who told me I could just wear earplugs when he brought women over,” then you pulled back, his hand fell. His eyebrow lifted, a tiny smirk lifted his lips. You continued, “Why don’t you go ahead and get a pair of your own, hm?”

You patted his cheek, reluctantly parting from him. Before leaving the bathroom, you chanced one more glance at your appearance. Not quite as flushed as before, though your cheeks were still blushing. You’d find a way to pass it off. Whatever. You’d been gone too long.

You were about to open the bathroom door when, from behind, his voice stopped you. You felt a spark as his hand delicately touched yours.

“Hey.”

You swiveled on your heel, raised your brows in question. “Yeah?”

“Do you think you could come to our gig this weekend? It’s a bigger one.”

Did you work this weekend? You couldn’t remember.

All you knew was that, suddenly, you really wanted to be at their show.

“I’m not sure . . . Depends on work.”

“I would love—,” he put a fist in front of his mouth and cleared his throat. “The guys and I would love it if you could be there,” he shook his head, seeming to come to terms with an inner battle. “For me, I would just love to look out and see your beautiful face in the crowd.”

Your mind was fuzzy. All of this felt so unreal, yet so real all at once. He really wanted you there? And had he just called you beautiful?

“I’ll try my best,” you slapped on a small grin, trying to play hard to get, masking your inner shock. You wanted to keep him on his toes, like he’d kept you for the past weeks.

He scrunched his brows in and messed with his bottom lip. “Yeah,” he nodded, clearing his throat. “Yeah, totally get it. Just text me and let me know.”

Anytime he messed with his mouth, it was a distraction. You had to keep yourself from watching too close. It really didn’t help that you knew the feeling of those full, pink lips. . .

And as you walked the short distance to your bedroom, you realized something else.

Had he just asked you to text him?

What was all of this? This new territory you had just discovered?

-🌼🌼🌼-

And a couple nights later, when you were sitting on the couch watching New Girl, Jake came to sit at his end of the couch.

Once you’d finished the episode he’d sat down to watch with you, he cleared his throat, making you look over at him.

He was already looking at you. It made your stomach flurry. You decided to look back at the TV, nervous under his gaze.

He spoke, keeping your ear in his direction, you paused the show. “We should start the series over. You know, start at the beginning together.”

You smirked, feeling a rush of giddy happiness and excitement buzz through you.

“Yeah, sure,” you coolly respond, starting the show from scratch.

And as Jess began the first episode, you peeked quickly over at him, a content smile resting on his lips as he lounged at his end of the sofa.

-🌼🌼🌼-

And for the next few nights, Jake kept coming back. He would sit on the couch with you, simply to watch your show.

Just to share that quiet time at the end of each day with you.

Whenever he would come to sit down, your nerves would translate to a dizziness of butterflies in your stomach.

Though, it felt like the most natural thing in the world to laugh with him, share popcorn or pizza, look at each other when a character would say something particularly hilarious. . .

But neither of you ever moved to kiss the other. You know . . . make it anything more than two people watching a TV show.

It almost seemed like an unspoken rule that you were not doing that again . . .

. . .yet.

Both of you, seeming to wait for the right time.

But you sure liked those quiet nights.

These nights with him made your house feel like a home. . . comfortable and safe.

-🌼🌼🌼-

On Friday night, you got off work a little early.

It was the night before the guys’ show, so Jake obviously wasn’t home due to a last minute rehearsal and details. You'd seen as much on the rehearsal schedule on the fridge.

You took your time showering, shaving, exfoliating, pampering yourself fully, with the apartment to yourself. . .

Once finished, you realized you really wanted to watch New Girl. Even though Jake wasn’t home, you were in the middle of one of your favorite parts of the show. You had to watch the next couple of episodes.

You’d just rewind to watch again when he was home next.

You couldn’t help it. The two of you had been binging and you'd come to your favorite part in the whole show. It was arguably the best part—what the audience waits for from practically the first episode.

Jess and Nick were finally about to bite the bullet, get their shit together and get together.

And as you sat with a couple slices of warmed up cheese pizza from the night before, cuddled up with Stevie purring against your blanket covered thighs. . .something clicked.

As they looked at each other throughout the whole episode of “Cooler,” you were angry with them. So angry that they were so close to finally being together, yet so far. . .

“Not like this!” Nick said to Jess, stopping her from kissing him. He suddenly sounded and looked very much like you had felt recently.

He looked desperate to make it the best it could be, get Jess to understand that it had to be just right. They’d waited long enough, and he wanted it to feel like it deserved to.

You couldn’t stop it when it pulled you right back to your real life. Your current situation.

And if you were upset with Nick and Jess for piddling around and not just acting on their feelings, not letting loose when it was so obvious they needed to . . . Then why the hell were you dragging it out so damn long with Jake?

You felt like the two of you were essentially Nick and Jess. You were roommates, with so much building between you—everything and nothing to lose all at once.

You wanted to act on it. You wanted it all. It was time.

No, it was past time.

And as Nick and Jess finally kissed, you decided.

The gig was tomorrow. You were off work early enough to go. . .

You were going to the show, and you weren’t going to stop anything that may happen afterwards this time.

-🌼🌼🌼-

As you left for work the next morning, you noticed a piece of paper sitting on the dining room table with your name on it, along with a sticky attached to it with an address and a little scribbled note underneath.

Just in case

-J

Your tummy fluttered.

You’d been running late, so you hadn’t had time to look at it, tucking it into your bag to look at later.

-🌼🌼🌼-

In the quietness of the record store, you opened it up to find the setlist.

Grinning, you checked it over. Every song on the list were ones you knew. Save for one near the bottom.

Edge of Darkness.

Suddenly curious about the song, you wondered. . . Was this song the reason he wanted you there?

-🌼🌼🌼-

Due to stupid-ass New York traffic and thinking you’d let Stevie run out of the apartment, only to find her hidden behind clothes in your closet, you were running roughly forty-five minutes late for their gig.

You’d texted Jake to let him know you were running late, but hadn’t received a text back. Momentarily, you’d been afraid of him being upset with you for being late, your stomach falling when he hadn’t responded for the thirty-ish minute drive to the venue after you’d sent it.

Then, you realized he was on stage performing, so of course he wouldn’t respond.

Whenever you’d sent the text, your hands had been extremely shaky, checking your text a million times for grammatical errors, even after you’d sent it. It was seriously like a ridiculous high school crush.

Dumb.

You still believed that if you just fucked him and got it out of your system, some of those juvenile feelings would come to pass.

As an adult woman, you didn’t need to care so deeply for how a man might respond to you. There was no use for that, and you thought yourself ludicrous for it.

Though, you really did feel terrible as traffic took so long, delaying your arrival to the venue. Your normal road rage came out a few times, honking your horn and cursing as people would drive several miles below the speed limit in front of you.

You just wanted to get there.

-🌼🌼🌼-

When you did get there, the guys were playing their hearts out as you had to squeeze through a mass of sweaty, singing bodies, alcohol sloshing whenever you’d pass through.

The establishment had two levels, so you decided to climb some stairs to watch from a higher level, hoping for less of a crowd from that vantage point.

And when you’d made it up there, you realized it was still crowded. But it wasn’t nearly as bad as below. You found a semi-clear space to claim, a thankfully nice view of all of the guys.

The first thing you noticed when you looked at Josh was his hair. He’d told you recently that he was trying to grow it out on the sides, going for a full head of curling hair. You hadn’t seen him recently enough to see the progress, though, and it looked great on him.

“All right!” Josh had screamed into the mic, hyping up the packed house, receiving screams from everyone watching. Jake strummed a little note which made you immediately hone in on him, but he seemed irritated, strumming a few more times, shaking his head.

Josh glanced over at his twin, sensing the issue, and he smiled back at the crowd. “How we feeling?!” He raised his hands, eliciting more screams as Jake continued strumming, finally gaining some help from someone in their little backstage crew. The curly headed twin gave Jake another look, but Jake’s back was turned as he worked with the crew member to get the problem figured out.

Josh walked over to his twin, checking out the problem for himself. They were having the smallest conversation before Jake shook his head at Josh, and then the crew member. He turned around, effectively giving up on the issue. He played another chord, checking, but his brows were still drawn in with irritation.

What was going on? Was he okay? You suddenly had an incredibly impulsive urge to go check on him. But you stood your ground as he felt out a few more notes, shrugging shortly and giving a curt nod to Josh as a go ahead.

Josh once again smiled so wide it looked like it hurt. You could tell he was trying his hardest to alleviate any sort of tension for the crowd. Fortunately, the crowd seemed oblivious, playing into it as a sort of bit, it seemed.

You took a few seconds to send a text to your sweet, empathetic friend to let him know you were there and that you wanted to get a drink after the show.

You hated seeing him stressed- especially on stage. You were feeling it with him and with Jake.

“How about a new one?” He asked, receiving a plethora of yells and screams. You smiled with the crowd. “This next one is called Edge of Darkness. . .and it’s about. . .the edge of darkness.”

You giggled at him. He was a great frontman. The people were soaking it all up, laughing with him, and screaming for more.

But you had to check back in on Jake. He seemed to be doing better, still upset, but he smiled tightly to a few screaming girls in front.

He started playing, his face saying that something was not blending together like you knew he wanted it to. But you couldn’t tell the difference, so you knew the crowd couldn’t, either.

It didn’t stop him from turning to check the amp a couple more times before suddenly, he was ripping through the most erotic guitar solo you’d ever heard him play live.

Fuck. The song was called the ‘Edge of Darkness’, and it was ironic because you felt like you were on the edge of some kind of dark shit. Watching him manipulate those strings with such precision and intent, his hips fucking (yes, fucking) into his guitar. It was unlike anything else he’d ever done with that guitar. . .you were absolutely sure of it.

You were sweating. And you knew it wasn’t from proximity to any people around you. No, it was from watching him go to this secret place that you wanted to join.

His facial expressions were driving you insane. All you could imagine was seeing those faces above you as your body replaced the guitar. Bent over, with him fucking into you with the same vigor he was giving his instrument.

Then he threw it behind his fucking head. It got you every. time. He made it look so effortless— so easy for him to balance it there (though you knew it wasn’t), while he still played all of the intricate chords. He was a natural—a true rockstar.

You wondered what else he was a natural at.

You were squirming underneath your skin, your palms were clammy and when you moved a bit, you noticed your thong was uncomfortably damp between your legs. And your jeans made it impossible to move to fix the issue.

These solos of his. . .fuck. They were the sole cause for your sexual frustration after these shows. Why you’d had to replace vibrators in the past month.

But tonight? Tonight, you wouldn’t need the help of your hand or a tool. No, tonight, you planned on going home with him— to take care of it with his help.

-🌼🌼🌼-

But as you waited out in the bar area after the show, after sending Jake a text on how well he did, you were met with radio silence on his end.

It sat there, glaring at you in the blue bubble.

You, 10:43 p.m.: You fuckin killed it. So glad I came.

It had now been several minutes since the show had ended and since you’d sent the message, and looking at the time on your phone, you realized it had now been closer to an hour.

What was taking them so long? Their crew packed their shit up now . . . so where were they?

You weren’t able to wonder too much longer, hearing Josh’s voice come up right behind you.

But he didn’t have his usual bounce. He sounded super pissed.

“Your roommate’s a dick,” he sat in the seat at the bar next to you. He ran two hands through his growing hair and then put both of his hands over his face. He sat there like that until the bartender came up, removing them when they asked what he wanted. “Strongest thing you have.”

“Josh?” You tentatively reached a hand out to touch his bare shoulder. He’d worn his little brown vest he loved so much, sans a shirt underneath. “You okay?”

When he looked at you, he looked sorry for how he’d been acting. And he said as much.

“I’m sorry, y/n. Jake just—,” he put his face into his crossed arms on the bar to growl, then he faced you again. “He’s been in a piss mood all fucking night, and when he’s mad, I feel it all the way down to my bones. I also just get really fed up with his little attitude he gets when something goes wrong. It’s annoying as hell and I get tired of it.”

You could relate—you also hated Jake’s pissant attitude when he was upset over something. Though, in this circumstance, you felt inclined to be the devil’s advocate.

“Josh. . .you also get upset when things go wrong. You’re the biggest perfectionist I know.”

“Apparently you don’t know Jake, then. And you’re one to talk!” He spat. Then he groaned again, his eyes sympathetic when he looked at you. “I’m sorry. I know. I agree with you. I’m sorry. He just. . . seemed off all night and it already bothers me when he’s upset over something and he wasn’t telling me everyth— my twin intuition always knows when he isn’t telling me everything. And tonight he sure as hell had something else on his mind that he refused to give any weight to,” the bartender came up with a shot of something. Josh threw it back, and shook his head, coughing just a bit. His eyes bulged the slightest bit.

You couldn’t help your little laugh at him. He needed that. Take the fucking edge off. “Strong like you wanted?”

He gave you a grin, his eyes easier than they were before. You relaxed, realizing you were absolutely feeling that tension with him. You felt especially better when he waved the server back over to ask for a salty dog. That’s more like it.

“Anyway,” he started, swiveling his body to be facing towards you, one arm on the bar. “Sam and Daniel didn’t even have to be subjected to it. They left to meet up with a couple of their other friends before he exploded on me. Just me! And they don’t get those same inklings from him that I do. Being a twin is both a blessing and a curse. I swear we fuckin’ share a brain sometimes.”

His movements, facing you like this on his barstool, made you think of when Jake had sat next to you like this—the night he’d kept you close, taken you home, and then cut things short. Everything you’d felt that night coming back tenfold.

. . . Where was he? It didn’t matter where he was. Really. But you were curious.

“Where is Jake?” You tried to play it cool, because that’s what you were. Cool. It was nothing. You went ahead and softened the question by complimenting his growing hair. “And I like your hair.”

“Thanks. Biotin vitamins, I swear to God,” he patted the sides of his ‘do, giving you a cheeky smirk. “And Jake—. Thank you,” he said to the bartender, giving her a quick wink as she sat his drink on his coaster. “He went back to your place. Didn’t wanna stay around for a good time. He was not in the mood.”

Your heart sank.

What? He’d gone home?

But he'd asked you to come tonight? Had he gotten your texts? Surely he had. There was no reason he wouldn’t’ve. All of a sudden, you felt extremely stupid for sending them. . .for thinking anymore of tonight than you should have. For worrying about him from the balcony. When he didn’t even care to stay to see you.

He was the most unpredictable asshole and you were foolish to think, for even a split second, that he wasn’t.

-🌼🌼🌼-

Luckily, Josh was ready to end the night fairly early.

You were glad because you weren’t in the mood to entertain after having your feelings hurt (stupidly) by Jake leaving and not telling you. It was the smallest thing to be upset over, you knew. Your heart had gotten ahead of you, and into something ridiculous.

On your drive home, you kept telling yourself that you were done with all Jake related thoughts. You shouldn’t give two shits about the man. Really. He’d been a jerk from day one. And even though he’d had a few instances of being someone so wonderful. . . he kept doing things that just reminded you that maybe he was just incapable of being consistent.

You were worried about what you’d go home to. Afraid of hearing him and a girl from his bedroom, seeing them on your couch. . . You were tired of not being able to keep up with him. It was exhausting.

And as much as you told yourself he didn’t matter, you knew you were lying to yourself. You’d made him matter the past couple months—let him matter. Too many times you’d let him get to you. And as much as you wanted to regret it, you couldn’t fully let yourself do that yet.

The stubborn, stupid part of you wanting to give him a chance. Wondering what had happened tonight that got him so upset.

You cared. . .even though you really wished you didn’t.

So as you traipsed through your front door, you were relieved when all of the lights were turned off, and there was no sight or sound of a woman. Only Stevie, who came up to purr against your calves. Feeling bad for your hungry kitty, you quickly went to drop your purse to the table so you could feed her.

But when you looked in her dish, there was already fresh kibble in the bowl. You hadn’t fed her before you’d left. . .

Had Jake . . .? Obviously. Your heart perked at the gesture.

Then, the sound of a guitar being strummed from his bedroom stopped your thoughts. Stevie went to eat, and you left her to do so as you walked towards the sound.

You weren’t choosing your path. . . your feet were simply leading you, your mind hardly keeping up with what you were going to do once you got to his room.

Just felt a want to see him. Talk to him.

Why?

You’d worry about that later. Didn’t want to think about that for the time being.

Once you got to his door, you noticed it wasn't fully closed. You didn’t think as you pushed it open.

And then, there you were. And there he was, facing the door, his concert attire still fully on. He looked up at you from his spot, stopping the strumming abruptly.

But his eyes weren’t kind. He wasn’t happy. He was still feeling the anger Josh had been talking about.

Not giving two shits how he’d react, you didn’t hold back. You were still pissed, too. At him.

“It’s not fucking kind to invite someone to something and then leave them there without a damn hello or goodbye.”

He blinked, his lip curling to show a sarcastic smile. “You’re gonna pull that shit?”

You stepped further into his room, coming close enough to him that your knees were almost touching his, where he sat at the edge of his bed, his hand clutching the acoustic with a tight grip. Too tight.

“What the fuck, Jake? Of course I’m going to ‘pull that shit.’ It was a fuckin’ prick move and I didn’t appreciate it.”

“It’s a prick move to keep someone waiting for a response about whether or not you’ll be somewhere when I can see damn well your schedule on that fridge, saying all week that you didn’t work tonight,” he got up to place his guitar on the stand next to his bed. He kept careful to not touch you as he moved. Wow. He placed it delicately, in stark contrast to his sharp movements. He spun on his heel to face you. “Why don’t you care, y/n? You don’t have to fucking come if you don’t care. I’d rather you stay home if you don’t want to be there when I invite you.”

“What made you think I don’t care?!”

“You kept me hanging! All week,” he angrily brushed a hand through his hair, growling with the motion when a ring got stuck in the locks. “Fuck!” He started pulling down his bed covers, not looking at you as he argued. “You don’t do that when it’s my brother. He wants you there, you’re fuckin’ there. With me, when I ask you, you’re always late and you barely even tell me you’re coming. It’s obvious who you’re really going to see and I’m tired of you acting like you care about me when you really only care about Josh.”

“What?! First of all, you knew I worked the night of your first show. I didn’t want to. . .I got fucking called in— so don’t you dare hold that against me!” You came closer to him, hitting his arm to make him stop the unmaking of his bed. “Quit doing that and fucking listen to me!”

He went rigid, throwing the covers dramatically, stopping like you asked. He stood stiff as a board with his arms crossed at his chest. He motioned a hand for you to continue, almost mocking. “Go on. Enlighten me.”

You shoved his chest. “Stop it!” You crossed your own arms, your heart beating so hard in your chest. “Stop with the Josh shit. Anytime either of you ask, I’m there. I’m sorry I didn’t let you know sooner about tonight. I’ve just been—I don’t know,” you’d been thinking about him. How badly you wanted to do him after the show tonight. “Distracted?”

“School?” He questioned, seeming genuinely concerned.

You shook your head, not wanting to lie. “No. Not school. I don’t know how to explain—,” you looked into his eyes. They were hardening again. “I don’t know. Just distracted.”

He shook his head. He was in the dark. There was no way he’d know the full truth unless you told him. But you weren’t sure how to articulate it. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, his jaw set. “Thank you, y/n. I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”

“Jake— seriously. Please sto—.”

“I just—dammit!” He combed a hand through his hair and got the same ring stuck. Having enough, he took the one piece of offensive jewelry off, and placed it delicately on his desk behind him. He locked eyes with you again. “The other night in the bathroom, you—I could have sworn you—but you—you told me— I just can’t keep up!”

“I can’t keep up with you!” You yelled back, momentarily worrying about neighbors. It was very late.

You were at a loss.

You surveyed him, his chest was heaving like yours. Walking a few steps forward, your chest was almost touching his— you softly grabbed at the front of his light red T-shirt, eager for him to hear. His breathing seemed to slow at you being so close. Your eyes held each other, his were questioning.

It was now or never. The frantic beating of your heart, sounding in your ears. You were shaking. You were tired of him thinking he knew best.

What you were most tired of was tiptoeing around—the barely missing each other.

“I’m only asking one more time. What do you want?” He begged, reminding you of Ryan Gosling in The Notebook.

You would have giggled at the similarity if you weren’t feeling the seriousness of this moment.

There was so much to say, but only one thing left to say, all at once. . .

You stood there, sharing breaths, for a few still seconds. Could have been minutes. You were lost in the beautiful gaze of his deep, dark eyes.

Your heart slowed, your breath catching in your throat while your stomach dropped to your knees.

“I want you to fuck me,” you said lowly, grabbing at his shirt with a sturdier hand. You weren’t scared—only sure. So fucking sure. And beyond ready.

His jaw went slack. It almost looked like he wanted to say something to challenge you, but he bit his lip. Instead, he grabbed softly at your jaw, curving his hand up to cradle your head, softly under your flowing hair.

“Well I can fucking do that.” Was all he said as he dove in, securing your lips with his.

He sucked on your bottom lip and penetrated your mouth with his smooth tongue. He tasted like minty gum and cigarettes. Usually, you found it repulsive to kiss someone with the taste of nicotine in their mouth, but with Jake . . . It was suddenly everything you’d ever wanted in a kiss.

You lost yourself in the moment. In him. There was nothing stopping you now.

Continuing to kiss you, he turned you both, until the backs of your legs softly hit the edge of his bed. Taking that as your cue, you went to sit down on the sheets. You unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, his delicious hips right at eye level with you now. He took initiative and pushed them the rest of the way down, stepping out of them.

Then all you could see in front of you was him, bursting at the seams in his pink, AE briefs. Fuck, he was so cute and sexy all at once. You didn’t know how he did it.

Your mouth watered as you went to pull down his briefs. But he put a hand on yours to stop you, the cold metal of his rings a contrast to your heated skin.

You looked up, your eyebrows dipping in question.

“Not yet,” he corrected. Then he took his shirt off, exposing his beautifully soft, tanned, and perfectly toned chest. A long necklace laid against his stomach, and you used it to pull him down to you.

You laid back, his legs coming to rest in between yours as he crawled onto the bed to follow you. He unwrapped the necklace from his neck, putting it on his small bedside table. Using the time he was preoccupied, you pushed his underwear down his thighs, watching his face to see his reaction.

He teasingly rolled his eyes at you.

“Damn, woman,” he chuckled under his breath, showing his perfectly straight teeth. Beautiful man. He finished the job, kicking them off. “One track mind or what?”

Rolling your eyes back at him, you gave a quiet grin and clicked your tongue. “Whatever, Kiszka.”

But he wasn’t wrong. You wanted to see him. Fully.

And you were glad you got your way, because fuck.

He was stunning. Even more so when you could fully see it, without the dimness of the bathroom lights at Baby's. How could a cock be so pretty?

You reached out to touch him. He shivered at the feeling of your cool skin on his heated, swollen flesh. So soft, smooth. . .thick.

Shit.

His precum was already leaking from his pretty pink tip.

Your mouth was watering. Your need to have your hands on him clouded your every thought.

But before you could do anything more than run your fingers over him, he was moving his body to be on top of yours, your hands falling from him. You edged up the bed, him following after you. His eyes were hungry, and his hands were purposeful and strong as he quickly unfastened your jeans, pulling them off in one smooth motion.

Your pussy throbbed at how close it was to happening. How close you were to finally feeling him. Fulfilling the need you’d discovered too long ago.

Taking off your cropped t-shirt as he stripped you of your panties, you hissed as your wet mound met the air of his room. You made quick work of your bra.

He sat above you, gently cupping your bare pussy, while watching your naked chest rise and fall as you took several deep breaths, waiting. You ground into the palm of his hand, needing the friction. He then moved his hands, grazing them up your thighs, hips, waist, and finally let them settle on the outer curve of your breasts.

Your skin grew goosebumps, your nipples hardening to peaks in the cool air of his bedroom. He seemed mesmerized. His mouth was slightly opened, his eyes studying your chest with every breath you took.

“Jake?” You whispered, breaking his stare at your breasts and making him look into your eyes.

“Sorry,” he blinked a few times, shaking his head with a little grin, balancing his hands on either side of your head. He leaned down to give your lips a sweet kiss. “It’s the first time I’ve ever seen all of you . . .,” He leaned on a forearm, and reached to your chest again, holding one breast in his hand, massaging it as his thumb skated over the nipple. “Beautiful,” he praised, looking you right in the eye. Oh, Jake.

Then, his mouth attached to the opposite breast, his lips sucked gently, his tongue flicking out to lick the nipple.

You felt it everywhere, your toes curling at his touch. And with a sigh, you leaned into his mouth, needing more. Needing all he could give.

“Fuck, Jake,” you whined. “Your mouth feels so good.”

And then he switched breasts, making sure to give each the same treatment. . . Holy sweet hell. You were done for.

Your body shook, feeling your nerve endings spasm. No one else had ever stimulated you this much, this way. You didn’t know you could feel so much from a man only lapping at your chest. He was magic.

“Jake,” you keened, your chest pushing further into his mouth. Your hips thrusting up to meet his. Fuck. With both of you having your pants off, he almost entered you at the motion. And damn the temptation was too much. “Shiiiit.”

He continued to worship your chest, and when you met his hips again, he bucked into yours, deliciously rough, matching a thrust. You felt him, hard, and fitting right between your wet folds, so close to being inside you.

You saw stars, closing your eyes.

Fuck.

You heard the softest groan against your breast. You looked down at him, lavishing at your supple skin. One thick brow was raised, but then he pulled them in, in concentration, as he rocked into you again. Shit.

You couldn’t help the cry that escaped you. Or the words that followed.

“Please, Jake. Please,” you didn’t know what you were asking for. Just needed more of him. You pushed your hands into his hair, growing confidence from your position. You pushed his face further into you, and you felt him bite at your nipple. Your hips naturally came to meet his and with all of it—fuck—your moan was pornographic. “I need you,” you pushed up, grinding your hips into his. “Here,” you did it again for emphasis, your pussy aching for him.

He released the nipple he’d been sucking with a pop. There was a snicker at your chest, and you saw the dimple in his cheek when he smirked. But before he did anything else, he moved back up your body, your chests finally touching. He had a hand still holding snug to a breast. He squeezed it once, your clit thrummed at the motion and you once again pushed your front to his.

He kissed the column of your neck softly, trailing kisses from there, all the way to the corner of your mouth. You moved to meet your lips with his, your hand still tangled in his wavy hair.

You kissed lazily for a few minutes, just enjoying the taste of each other. Your pussy still occasionally grazing his impossibly hard front. You’d moan into each other’s mouths every time. . .absolutely euphoric.

When you came up for air, you let yourself get lost in the chocolate pools of his irises. He was so handsome. So pretty. You couldn’t help the hand that came to hold his cheek, the other one still combing through his hair.

He gave the corner of your mouth one more peck before he rasped, moving to give the same kiss to the swell of each of your breasts. “Your tits . . .,” he blew out a breath against your skin, making the flesh erupt in goosebumps. You sighed. “Fuck, y/n. They’re perfect. So soft and full. . .” One more kiss to each, this time with tongue. “Fuckin’ perfect.”

Then his slick tongue was moving from your chest, down your stomach, and over your right thigh. He hitched both of your legs up, to be bent at the knee. Giving him better access to what you knew he was about to do. He gave your pussy the same long look he gave your breast, admiring what was in front of him. He licked his lips at the sight.

Your heart was racing.

And without warning, his tongue found you, flattening on your sensitive clit. It was so hard, with only the slightest direct contact from his tongue, you were bucking your hips into his face. He used two strong hands to grasp and hold your hips to the bed, making sure to soothe your position by making wide, smooth circles with his thumbs in the hidden flushed dips between your thighs and groin.

He then dipped his tongue to curve into the growing wetness between your folds. You gasped as he lapped at your arousal, occasionally moaning into you as he would lick. He continued like that for long enough that you weren’t sure you could see straight. Your legs were weak from your position. It was almost as if he was enjoying this—simply getting to taste you, feel you against his mouth.

And suddenly, you felt your body begin to tremble uncontrollably, your every sense becoming heightened. The feeling of him was all-consuming. You couldn’t deny it any longer, the growing sensation in the pit of your belly threatening to give way at any moment. And he knew it. The work of his mouth became more intense, more fervorous, more hungry. His plush lips working your throbbing cunt into a frenzy until you finally gave in.

He hardly took his mouth off of you, only enough to speak his velvet soft voice against your soaked pussy, his breath hot against the wet skin. “That’s it, baby, that’s it. Let me have it.”

Then it hit you, harder than it ever had. You suddenly realized that you’d been deprived your entire life of this feeling, no man had ever done that to you. Let alone with just his mouth.

You came back to, arching into him as you felt his tongue make a perfect circle around the still-tight bud of your sensitive clit. You could hardly control your tremors as your body had felt the ultimate test of ecstasy.

Then you heard a little whimper from Jake, and you looked down through hazy eyes to see his eyebrows were drawn deeper than you’d ever seen them.

A movement caught your eyes further down. His hips were thrusting, and with each rut of them, he kept forcefully meeting the mattress. You felt his bed shake with each jerk of his hips. Your clit twitched at the sensation of the bed rocking and his mouth on you. You could only imagine what it would be like when he was inside you. You felt the vibration of a growl against your pussy.

“Jake. . .,” you moaned. He hummed against you, which you presumed was a response to you. You hitched your hips up to meet his mouth as he curled his tongue to fit in the small hole between your folds, which gained him an involuntary shake from your body and a whine from you. He then trailed his tongue all the way up from your hidden spot, to hit the sensitive underside of your clit. You groaned loudly at the way his tongue was intermittently flicking against and massaging your overly sensitive bundle of nerves.

He whimpered again, and his brows creased so closely together. You felt another jolt beneath you as the bed shook with a rather forceful thrust from his hips. You knew he was either really enjoying himself or was getting tired and really wanted his own release. From past experience with men, you assumed the latter.

“Jake,” you started scooting your body up the bed. You got flashbacks to nights cut too short when you said his name like that. You knew he did, too, as his mouth lifted from you and his dark eyes met your own.

“You said you wanted this,” he grunted in response, his forehead falling to lay on your thigh in defeat.

“I do, Ja—.”

He interrupted you when he dug his fingers into your hips harder, pulling you back down to meet his slick tongue. Your eyes rolled back in your head at the feeling of him lapping at you with the force he was exuding to seemingly keep you in your spot.

You tugged at his hair harder, trying to signal him to stop. As much as you didn’t want him to stop, it wasn’t fair for you to have all of the attention. He needed his release.

He slowly, hesitantly stopped and looked up at you, and you saw his eyes soften the slightest bit at your face. You knew you probably looked concerned, as that was how you were feeling for him.

“Are you okay?” He lifted his body from the spot he’d been laying in between your legs. He laid his body beside yours, and his swollen cock came to heavily sit on top of your leg.

You could have drooled at the sight of it flush against your skin. Fuck.

“You need release, too, Jake,” you combed your fingers through his hair. He wrinkled his brows at that. You continued, “I’ve already finished once; you don’t have to give me any more attention.”

He leaned back a bit, seeming offended. “You don’t want me to keep going?”

You pulled him by his shoulders, back to where he’d been, and reassured. “No, I want you to keep going—Goddamn, babe. . .but I also want to make sure you are able to feel satisfied and taken care of,” you sat up, and moved down the bed, so you were looking right at his thickness. You got him to position himself to be where you just were, his back against the headboard. You stared up at him through your lashes as you spit onto his aching head, then grasped his dick in your hand, all in one fluid motion.

His eyelids dropped, and his Amber-brown irises darkened. You gave him one slight squeeze and you saw the muscles in his thighs tighten and his head fall back slightly. But his gaze stayed on you.

Giving him one more pump, you rolled your thumb over the head. He groaned, but you weren’t able to give him any more attention as he flipped your body to be under his again in one swift motion.

You squinted at him from your new position, “Why can’t I—?”

“You act as if I wasn’t satisfied with what I was doing before,” he retorted, voice low and face right above yours.

“You were obviously wanting more. You were—I wanted to help because you kept. . . thrusting into the mattress,” you blinked up into his sultry glare. “I could tell—.”

“I was fucking the mattress because I loved getting to tongue fuck the hell out of your perfect pussy,” he snapped.

Your body tingled at his words. This man.

But you didn’t want your desire to please him to be ignored. You reflected the glare that was still shading his features. “Why do you always have to get your way?” You argued.

He huffed, “My way?” He went down to bite the inner curve of your right breast. You moaned, feeling your nipples harden even more at the sensation. He continued his way down your body, “If I would have had my way this wouldn’t be—," You thrusted up into his stiff dick again. You smirked when he bit his lip, eyes closing to stave off your distraction. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Fuck, y/n,” his eyes bore into you, then he worked his way down to where he was, once again, settled between your legs. He gave you one lick up your folds. You whispered his name, shaking. So sensitive. So delicious. “Have I wanted your mouth on my dick for a long ass time? Fuck yes. But I’ve also wanted this again. Give me this. I want this.”

“Jake, you don’t have to say that just becau—.”

He closed his eyes and groaned. “Can you not fucking argue with me for once?”

“Can you just fucking listen to me? I want to make sure you—.”

He forcefully entered you with one finger, his thumb reaching up to rub over your hard clit. You threw your head back, looking down at him with lust clouding your vision. You wanted to be angry with him for interrupting you, but dammit . . . you just couldn’t be.

He pumped it in and out a few times before putting the finger in his mouth, closing his eyes and moaning. “You taste so fuckin’ delicious, baby.”

His usage of the pet name made your brain short circuit for a few seconds, but you got distracted from it because suddenly, his face was back, right above yours. His forearms caged you in, on either side of your head. His hair was draping around you like a curtain. It felt so familiar. . .so wonderful.

And now, you knew it was about to happen.

You felt the head of his cock at your entrance, just as you had at Baby’s.

But this time. . .this time it was different. So different. You couldn’t pinpoint how or why—it just was.

You looked down to where your bodies were so close to finally connecting. When you looked into his eyes, you noticed he was waiting for you.

For some reason, you felt as though he’d been studying your face while you were looking away. He seemed so content to simply be watching you, waiting for you, until you found his eyes.

When your eyes met his, you saw the smile that filled his amber-brown irises. It was a sweet moment that felt like it would forever be locked in time. You stayed there, him above you. And somehow, you knew he was waiting for permission. So, you nodded your head.

And without a second thought, his eyes still honing in on yours, he entered you.

You could’ve sang, you were so relieved to feel him like this. Finally.

“So fucking tight,” he grunted, letting his tip meet your most secret spot inside. Ohhh yeah. You wanted to fuckin’ purr.

It had been awhile . . . and Jake had noticed by your tightness. But as he rolled his hips the slightest bit, helping you adjust, hitting you right where you needed him, deep inside—there was no questioning that the man knew what the hell he was doing.

Just like your thoughts earlier tonight. . .he was a natural.

You continued to wince a little, since he was so thick. It took a second to stretch to his size, and he let you, moving around enough from inside to help you. But he felt so damn good, you didn’t want to stay like that for too long. You needed more.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, needing to feel closer to him. His hair tickled the back of your hand.

Though, when you’d looked back at his face, his eyes were stuck on you, seeming to be caught in a trance, a relaxed, loose grin fitting to his pink lips.

You moved your hips just a bit. He felt you move, and he seemed to come back, his eyes locking in on your lips. He gave into the urge, kissing you, letting his tongue explore your mouth briefly, you doing the same to his mouth.

Then, when you came up for air, breathing so hard, you shared this look. Such fondness behind the gaze. It was almost too much. But like all things with Jake, it felt right.

You played with the ends of his hair, where your arms were crossed at his back. Maybe you could stay like this forever.

But then he moved out slowly, and pushed back into you, hard and to the hilt. You felt his balls hit the bottom of your ass and you almost crossed your eyes at the ecstasy of it all.

He rocked into you like that a few more times, a little slower, moving steadily.

Then he switched things up.

He held your body up, his dick still firmly inside of you as he sat up on his knees, leaning back on his heels. He balanced your ass on his thighs and pushed a pillow up behind you, sitting you up, your back against the headboard. Your legs moved of their own accord to be on either side of his hips.

The position had you completely open to him, as your legs were spread wide, his cock pulsing inside of you. He bit his lip, focusing. It was like he was admiring a piece of art, not able to take his eyes from it. Deep in thought.

And all of a sudden, you felt extremely vulnerable. Every piece of you on full display, save for your backside which sat perfectly on his bare thighs. So, still. He had every piece of you open to him, around him, or on top of him.

You almost spoke, but he beat you to it.

“You are so fucking beautiful, y/n. Dammit,” he said with awe laced beautifully in his raspy voice, hitched on his next words. “This is— you are . . .,” he shook his head, and was never able to come up with the words. Instead, he just continued to let his eyes graze over you.

You felt your entire body heat at his words, the intimacy of all this. You felt emotional hearing the words, being like this with him. It was the most open and vulnerable you’d felt with a man in a long time (maybe ever), and he was seeming to treasure it just as much as you.

His hands held your waist as you tangled a hand in his hair, and looped one arm over his shoulders - both of your chests heaving, needy.

He then brought you forward, until your clit was positioned to rub right below his belly button. You gasped at the full change in position, his cock as deep as it could go. You used the new angle as leverage and went onto the pads of your feet, raising off of him briefly, and then you slowly sank back down onto his throbbing length.

The moan he let out was heavenly. It made you feel like you were on top of the world, the way his mouth hung open. You continued to rise, and sink back down. Long and slow motions that helped you both to feel all of each other. Once you got more confident, you started swiveling your hips as you started to bounce on top of him.

After a few more swings of your hips, he used his hold on your waist and lifted you off of him.

You unabashedly let out a small cry at the loss of him inside you, but you moved with him. You positioned yourself to be on all fours, ass facing him— going with his motions and assuming that’s what he wanted.

The hiss you heard leave his mouth when you were in position, and the way he kneaded your plush ass cheeks with his calloused fingertips made you smirk with victory. You knew exactly what he wanted.

“You like that?” You breathed at him, wiggling your round ass at him, grinding back on his hardness. You felt him quiver at your movement. Then you felt a hard smack against your right asscheek. “Fuck— Jake!”

He soothed the spot, massaging it the slightest bit, and before you had time to fully process the first hit, he went in for another slap on the other cheek.

You jolted with a squeak, surprised, but fully welcoming it.

Fuck yeah. Did he like things rough? If so, you were here for it.

Tossing your hair over your shoulder, you pointedly made eye contact with his hooded gaze. He had a knowing smirk on his face, matching your own expression.

He gave you two more slaps, one for each side, and this time you felt the cold metal of his rings with the hits. Oh fuck.

You pushed back on him, wanting more. His thick cock, snug between your sore cheeks at this angle.

But instead, he flipped you to lay on your back again. Where was this strength coming from? Dear God.

How easily he maneuvered your body, wherever he wanted it to go. . . You bit your lip. Fuck. It was like you were his little instrument, moving you every which way, like he threw his guitar behind his head so effortlessly—that was you right now.

Your core convulsed at the thought.

Jake set an arm next to your head, and the other above, almost cradling it to not hit the headboard. Then he sunk his pulsing dick into your waiting, dripping cunt. At this point, you were getting fairly acquainted with his size, so you grabbed his perfectly round backside, burying him the deepest he could be in you.

You also used this position to sway your hips up, each stroke on his dick intentional. Throwing in a little trick of yours, you tightened your muscles to grip his length with each roll of your hips, making him fit even more snug, inside of you.

“Oh baby,” he groaned at the feeling, the first time you did it. And after a few more, he tapped your hip. “If you don’t stop, I’m not gonna last.”

He was trembling above you. His arm was shaking next to your head.

“Y/n, baby—fuck,” he grunted, tapping at your hip harder. He wasn’t ready to be done. Neither were you. So you tapped him right back, motioning for him to move off of you.

After he’d moved, you went to lay partially on your side and partially on your belly. You lifted your ass to indicate you were ready. And in one smooth move, his chest was against your back, his arms back where they were before, but in the new position. He slowly slid in, feeling out the new angle.

You loved it. One of your new favorites.

“I love this fuckin’ view of you, y/n,” he groaned, his breath hitting your shoulder. “And the way you feel like this—goddamn.”

He was filling you up, all the way, except this time, you had the combined feeling of him inside, while his smooth sac hit your pussy with each languid pump of his hips.

You watched how his bicep and fist flexed at the same time, with each thrust, so purposeful.

Damn him for being so sexy.

His hips started moving quicker, almost of their own accord. And before you knew it, he was pounding into you, his balls slapping hard against you.

The sounds—the way it felt— perfection.

Your toes curled. Ecstasy. He kept hitting your hidden spot inside; your clit was getting friction from his sheets; and the back of your pussy was getting attention, too. Fuck. This position was going in the books.

Without warning, you felt the arm next to you move, his hand going to sweep swift circles on your swollen bundle of nerves.

“Jaaaake,” you whined, sounding completely pathetic. Sweat was beading at your forehead. Your folds were spasming, your pussy ready to let go. “Fuck, baby.”

You couldn’t hold it anymore. All of it combined—the loud slaps of flesh, the sweat, his hand, the pressure of his pretty dick stretching your tender pussy- hitting every part of you—damn.

You came for the second time that night with a curl from your hands and toes, and a loud sob.

“Doing so good, y/n,” he pushed his chest closer to your back, feeling your release against his hand and helping you ride the wave. And all of a sudden, his hips started rutting, so erratically against your ass, his dick pulsing inside with each roll of his hips. “I’m gonna—where do you—fuck! Y/n—.”

Shit. You almost forgot. You weren’t on the pill. You’d just gone off a few months ago. Shit shit shit shit.

Momentarily snapping from your hazy afterglow, you grasped his hip. “Dammit—on my back!”

Thankfully, he pulled out in time, and with a small moan from his perfect lips, hot spurts of his cum met your back, shiny from sweat.

After, he laid above you, one shaking arm still above you, the other now holding your tummy. Okay, now you hated this position. You couldn't easily flip to see his face. And you wanted to see him.

He made quick work of reaching for his T-shirt from earlier to clean off your back.

“Wanna see your face,” he sighed, rubbing at your shoulder.

You grinned at the sentiment, wanting so desperately to see him, too. So, you rolled onto your back, letting an arm fall above your head, and the other lay across your stomach, replacing where his had been. In a daze, you watched him as he cleaned up his cock, still glistening from your climax.

Changing your line of sight, you let yourself watch his face as he cleaned himself. His lips were slightly parted, his top lip curled a bit to show some of his top row of teeth. He was focused. And damn he looked good like that.

But you already knew that.

Finally, he was done, and he threw the shirt over the side of the bed, joining the pile of clothes on the ground.

He went to lay just as you had, but with extended an arm for you to curl into.

You should have left. Gone back to your room. You’d gotten what you wanted.

And this was wrong. If it went too far, it could seriously hurt Jake. Make Josh impossibly angry with you for corrupting his brother. . .

But before you could even begin to move, focus too hard on any reasonable thought whatsoever, your head filled with Elsie’s voice, wise with the conversation you’d had that day, in the entryway.

“I’m saying. . .what if it’s possible he could just want you in his bed and nothing else?” She’d scratched her head. “Would that hurt anything or anyone? I mean, you’ve made it seem to me that you don’t really have any emotional attachment to him. So if you did that, who would it hurt?”

You glanced up at his face, his eyes drooping to follow the sleep you were also craving. His lids fluttered against his smooth skin - his sharp features. Yeah, you were good on that, still . . . no emotional attachment. But he was nice to look at.

Your voice from that day sprang to your mind, fighting.

“Elsie, that’s a stupid plan that could go horribly wrong,” she’d gasped at your insult to her idea. And you’d leveled her with a stare. “And you know it.”

“I do, I do,” she’d reassured. “But what if you just cut it off when it starts to feel like too much?”

You looked to his hands, drumming mindlessly against his hard, tanned stomach. His mouth hummed an unknown tune. You wanted to sink into him. But you knew you could cut it off. You were a pro at that.

“You think I could do that?” You hadn’t been able to believe you were actually starting to give substance to her idea in your head.

(And here you were doing it again.)

“You’re pretty damn good at burying things right down to the pits of hell, so. . .,” She’d blinked at you, almost innocently with her savage plan leaving her lips. “What’s the harm in giving it a shot? I mean, just one time, at least?”

So, you used your sister’s words from the past as your pass to let yourself be exactly where you wanted to be right now: in his warm, safe, strong arms. It had been now one time. You'd given it a shot. . .

But what if . . .?

And just as you settled into him, your cheek resting on his toned pec, his heart beating steadily underneath, you heard the last of Elsie’s words from that conversation, inspiring you even more to do this.

To force some substance on this otherwise ridiculous, horrible idea.

She’d glanced to the side, letting her eyes wander mysteriously for a second. “I think it would be good for you to live on the edge. Just once.”

And that was all you needed in that sweet, quiet moment, letting yourself cozy up, right into Jake’s chest. . .feeling him kiss the crown of your head.

Tomorrow could worry about itself.

Because right now? Right now, you were the most blissed out - the most comfortable you’d ever been.

You weren’t fucking ready to lose this yet, dammit.

And as you drifted off, seconds later, his soft snores lulling you peacefully, you could only hope that he wasn’t ready to lose this—whatever the hell this was—yet, either.

-🌼🌼🌼-

a/n: i'm so ready to share what's coming... i wish i could tell you guys (gn)!! it's killingggg me. anywayssss... please let me know your thoughts! you know i love hearing from you all :) <3

(I will say, I've been giving sporadic hints from the first chapter of what's to come. . . hmmm. who thinks they can guess what's going to turn Reader's life upside down?)

if you’d like to be added to the taglist, please let me know!

& as usual, it wouldn’t let me tag some of y’all. :( so please check to see that you’re down there because if you’ve asked to be on the taglist, i tried to tag you. buuuut tumblr wouldn’t let me do it for everyone 🙃 ugh. and if i somehow forgot to tag someone, please also let me know that! (i'm a NOOB and i have terrible memory)

Taglist: @joshym, @gretavanfleetposts, @alyson814, @fretaganvleet, @lallisonl, @writingcold, @gvfpal, @twinszka, @jessicafg03, @reesetrippingthelight, @sacredjake, @laurenlovesgretavanfleet, @gretavangroove, @222headedcalf, @dreamssingold, @carbondancingthroughtime, @raviolilegs, @way-to-go-lad, @jakekiszkasmommy, @katgvf, @objectsinspvce, @jaketlover, @vanfleeter, @thetroublegetssloud71, @seditabets, @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface, @jaketlove, @ohgodthefeeling-gvf, @starcatcher-jake, @anythingforjtk, @lucimoo, @indigostreakmorgan, @gretavanbear, @katelynn-gvf, @alwaysonthemend, @aintthatapity, @bowievanfleet, @fwzco, @takenbythemadness, @cherry-icecreamsmile, @laneygvf

#jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka smut #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fanfic #jake fic #jake kiszka #covet #my fics

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