#but then again bedrooms are museums in their own way

[petermorwood]

More on pre-electricity lighting.

Interesting to see this one pop up again after nearly two years - courtesy of @dduane, too! :->

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After experiencing a couple more storm-related power cuts since my original post, as well as a couple of after-dark garden BBQs, I've come to the conclusion that C.J. Cherryh puts far too much emphasis on "how dark things were pre-electric light".

For one thing eyes adjust, dilating in dim light to gather whatever illumination is available. Okay, if there's none, there's none - but if there's some, human eyes can make use of it, some better or just faster than others. They're the ones with "good night vision".

Think, for instance, of how little you can see of your unlit bedroom just after you've turned off the lights, and how much more of it you can see if you wake up a couple of hours later.

There's also that business of feeling your way around, risking breaking your neck etc. People get used to their surroundings and, after a while, can feel their way around a familiar location even in total darkness with a fair amount of confidence.

Problems arise when Things Aren't Where They Should Be (or when New Things Arrive) and is when most trips, stumbles, hacked shins and stubbed toes happen, but usually - Lego bricks and upturned UK plugs aside - non-light domestic navigation is incident-free.

*****

Here are a couple of pics from one of those BBQs: one candle and a firepit early on, then the candle, firepit and an oil lamp much later, all much more obvious than DD's iPad screen.

Though I remain surprised at how well my phonecam was handling this low light, my own unassisted eyes were doing far better. For instance, that area between the table and the firepit wasn't such an impenetrable pool of darkness as it appears in the photo.

I see (hah!) no reason why those same Accustomed Eyes would have any more difficulty with candles or oil lamps as interior lighting, even without the mirrors or reflectors in my previous post.

With those, and with white interior walls, things would be even brighter. There's a reason why so many reconstructed period buildings in Folk Museums etc. are (authentically) whitewashed not just outside but inside as well. It was cheap, had disinfectant qualities, and was a reflective surface. Win, win and win.

*****

All right, there were no switches to turn on a light. But there was no need for what C.J. describes as stumbling about to reach the fire, because there were tinderboxes and, for many centuries before them, flint and steel. Since "firesteels" have been heraldic charges since the 1100s, the actual tool must have been in use for even longer.

Tinderboxes were fire-starter sets with flint, steel and "tinder" all packed into (surprise!) a box. The tinder was easily lit ignition material, often "charcloth", fabric baked in an airtight jar or tin which would now start to glow just from a spark.

They're mentioned in both "The Hobbit" and "The Lord of the Rings". Oddly enough, "Hobbit" mentions matches in a couple of places, but I suspect that's a carry-over from when it was just a children's story, not part of the main Legendarium.

Tinderboxes could be simple, just a basic flint-and-steel kit with some tinder for the sparks to fall on...

...or elaborate like this one, with a fancy striker, charcloth, kindling material and even wooden "spills" (long splinters) to transfer flame to a candle or the kindling...

This tinderbox even doubles as a candlestick, complete with a snuffer which would have been inside along with everything else.

Here's a close-up of the striker box with its inner and outer lids open:

What looks like a short pencil with an eraser is actually the striker. A bit of tinder or charcloth would have been pulled through that small hole in the outer lid, which was then closed.

There was a rough steel surface on the lid, and the striker was scraped along it, like so:

This was done for a TV show or film, so the tinder was probably made more flammable with, possibly, lighter fuel. That would be thoroughly appropriate, since a Zippo or similar lighter works on exactly the same principle.

A real-life version of any tinderbox would usually just produce glowing embers needing blown on to make a flame, which is shown sometimes in movies - especially as a will-it-light-or-won't-it? tension build - but is usually a bit slow and non-visual for screen work.

*****

There were even flintlock tinderboxes which worked with the same mechanism as those on firearms. Here's a pocket version:

Here are a couple of bedside versions, once again complete with a candlestick:

And here are three (for home defence?) with a spotlight candle lantern on one side and a double-trigger pistol on the other.

Pull one trigger to light the candle, pull the other trigger to fire the gun.

What could possibly go wrong? :-P

*****

Those pistol lanterns, magnified by lenses, weren't just to let their owner see what they were shooting at: they would also have dazzled whatever miscreant was sneaking around in the dark, irises dilated to make best use of available glimmer.

Swordsmen both good and bad knew this trick too, and various fight manuals taught how to manage a thumb-shuttered lamp encountered suddenly in a dark alley.

There's a sword-and-lantern combat in the 1973 "Three Musketeers" between Michael York (D'Artagnan) and Christopher Lee (Rochefort), which was a great idea.

Unfortunately it failed in execution because the "Hollywood Darkness" which let viewers see the action, wasn't dark enough to emphasise the hazards / advantages of snapping the lamps open and shut.

This TV screencap (can't get a better one, the DVD won't run in a computer drive) shows what I mean.

In fact, like the photos of the BBQ, this image - and entire fight - looks even brighter through "real eyes" than with the phonecam. Just as there can be too much dark in a night scene, there can also be too much light.

*****

One last thing I found when assembling pics for the post were Folding Candle-lanterns.

They were used from about the mid-1700s to the later 20th century (Swiss Army ca. 1978) as travel accessories and emergency equipment, and IMO - I've Made A Note - they'd fit right into a fantasy world whose tech level was able to make them.

The first and last are reproductions: this one is real, from about 1830.

The clear part was mica - a transparent mineral which can be split into thin flexible sheets - while others use horn / parchment, though both of these are translucent rather than transparent. Regardless, all were far less likely to break than glass.

One or two inner surfaces were usually tin, giving the lantern its own built-in reflector, and tech-level-wise, tin as a shiny or decorative finish has been used since Roman times.

I'm pretty sure that top-of-the-line models could also have been finished with their own matching, maybe even built-in, tinderboxes.

And if real ones didn't, fictional ones certainly could. :->

*****

Yet more period lighting stuff here, including flintlock alarm clocks (!)

#period lighting #tinderbox #too light too dark #social history #writer notes #research #period tech #sword vs lantern #c. j. cherryh

[snghnlvr]

hope they caught us. / sim jaeyun

jake x fem reader

synopsis: you knew that an academic girl like you shouldn’t be involved with a mischievous boy like jake, but both of you hide it well…right?

includes: 3.5k words | SUGGESTIVE | fluff too to balance it out lol | jake being a hot mischievous boy next door | but he’s smart! we love a hot, smart guy who thrives attention for y/n | jake’s hand placements⁉️ | y/n is shy but jake likes that | smooth talker jake yessir | LIP PIERCING JAKE !!

extra: hey bffs i’m back from my own grave 👯‍♀️ i lost motivation for a moment but it’s fine, ill try to post more~ | i’ve watched anne with an e so the language here is kind of similar to that style bc i love that fucking show and it inspired me 🤷‍♀️ | enhypen 🔛🔝 | jake has been so fine lately omfg | jake is a fucking simp!!!

likes, comments, and reposts are very much appreciated <3

[below the cut]

“j-jake-“ you pulled away from his grasp, heaving for air after that short yet everlasting kiss both of you shared secretly.

“you know we can’t be seen together.” as your flushed cheeks were on display in front of him, despise all of it, your mind was full of worries and anxiety of being caught by one of your family members or risking into a more intense situation in your bedroom.

“god, you’re so pretty whenever i look at you.” you scrunched your nose at your boyfriend’s compliment as he had a small smug smirk from your shy, silent reaction. you quickly turned your head towards the door, eyeing the hallway like a hawk to check if there was anyone near by and to your fortune, you can still hear the laughter and voices from the adults downstairs. you felt relieved, sighing softly.

your pondering thoughts became interrupted when you felt jake’s hand slither around your waist and pull you back again closer to him. you gasped, having both of your palms being in placed of his chest. he raised an eyebrow as you were taken aback from his gesture that was normal for him to do.

you were a blushing mess, however jake was smiling like a trickster- not giving a damn about what he’s doing to you, rather amused. you stared at him, observing how obnoxiously handsome he is with his hair being slightly disheveled up from your hands a few seconds ago, his hooded eyes gazing to yours and his lips being stained from your favorite shade of red from forbidden exchange that was yet mutual. the sight was scandalous but breathtaking.

you wanted to stare at him for hours, like a painting from a museum, trying to analyze every beautiful feature that earth has offered.

as the moonlight reflected your bodies from your small window, jake felt a breeze from it. the window’s open a tad bit. he sat down on the little space your window offered for sitting. he admired your wavy locks being swayed by the night air and your crimson cheeks being glowed from the radiance of the moon.

both of you smiled in delight, contented with each other’s presences.

jake. sim jake. adventurous yet devilish. elegant yet charming. sincere yet … complicated to deal with.

as you met the rebellious individual, you had no intentions of befriending jake. you didn’t like his trickster behavior in front of his friends, spreading unhumorous jokes, say the meanest things about teachers and most of all having an egotistical mind that one cannot top.

especially jake, for he is not only annoyingly attractive but naturally intelligent in his studies. maybe that’s why you didn’t entirely hate his guts.

your parents warned you about jake ever since he became not only your new classmate but your new neighbor. how innocent looks can cover their sinful stunts.

the way he showed himself to you at a family dinner at your place, he wore all black clothings including black ripped jeans along with multiple rings on his slim fingers and a lip piercing being proudly displayed on the right side of his face. in spite of it, you were surprised how someone your age can look daunting to look at. it somehow concerned your parents how one can allow their child to have piercings.

you would rather be the opposite. your closet would be filled with soft pastel colors. you have two piercings - the lobes. the ones where you would get at a young age and you never recall as you grow older but yet looking at jake’s, you thrived the curiosity of one.

but somehow, it ease your parents’ tension against him when he became a smooth talker and how he was gonna major engineering in college. you gawked at him, comparing how you were gonna take pre-med in college. just wondering how smart can he be?

and of course, as a shy girl you would always stray away in making new friends as if you wanted to be friends with jake. at a family gathering, you were the first one finished with your meal and went upstairs to do your unfinished homework. as a result, jake’s parents admired you for your hard work and dedication, wishing that their son can do the same instead of partying and socializing. not that there’s something wrong with having an extroverted personality, but something to prioritize with studies.

perhaps you did do it on purpose for the sake of your ego against jake and to maintain a good reputation as a daughter in your family.

unlucky enough, jake caught your act rather quickly. he would always scan you whenever you would converse with someone, how your lovely smile would appear, your glowy brown eyes shining under the gleaming light, how he had noticed you have small dimples on both sides of your cheek if your lips curved, how you scrunch your face when you receive a compliment, and your hair look looking smooth. he wonders what it’s like to touch it with his fingers and smell the scent that your hair obtains. there’s many more observations jake silently took note of.

all of his thoughts are genuine. about you. everything he thought about you are genuine.

he noticed whenever you would quickly glance at him and immediately look down at your plate as if you were scared. you would nibble your bottom lip and fiddle with your fingers on your lap whenever the adults mentioned jake to you.

needlessly to say as he took interest upon your first impression, he wanted you to be on his mind as well. in a way that makes him be stuck in your head for days and let curiosity rise to know him better.

the first step in his plan, to offer you to be his tutor. it surprised his parents, amazed at seeing a drastic change in their son after being in your house for one night. although he might in a higher level than you are, he wanted to find a way to know you better.

the night he was supposed to be partying with his friends, it was with books and you.

it was awkward. you felt awkward. your mind had awkward thoughts. the two of you in your room together in the midday of an autumn day. although your window was closed, your body was cold as you were cuddling yourself with a fluffy blanket of yours while sitting down.

next to you was jake, his uniform was a bit crumpled and his tie loosen up a bit after saying, “hope you don’t mind.” to you.

you noticed how his hair was a bit out of place, having the urge to fix it as the perfectionist you are.

however, despite looking tired from his classes, he seemed curiosity and his eyes would sparkle whenever something in your room caught his eye. like noticing your piano medals spread across in a shelf or picture you’ve kept when you were in art class in second grade pinned in your walls.

“so… what subject are you struggling with?” you were the first to break the awkward silence, eyes glancing at the emptiness of your desk table hoping that it would be filled with a textbook of any subject.

“statistics.” jake replied after, gulping in nervousness to make any wrong move on you. you raised an eyebrow.

“oh!” you straightened yourself in your chair, making your blanket slowly fall down. your shoulders from your cami top were exposed to jake, making him take into admiration of your beauty from your single lamp open.

you looked at jake. “the test scores were given back today right? can i see your test score so i can have an idea in what to teach you?” you smiled at jake as a reassurance message.

jake’s eyes widened a bit, taken aback from your sudden request. you noticed the moment of silence, thinking that jake is embarrassed to show you but jake was thinking of something else. he didn’t except nor imagine this scenario taking place. it was something that might make you mad.

“it’s okay, i’m here to teach you not to make fun of you, you can be honest with me.” you nodded at jake, seeing him zip his back bag open behind him. he scooted his chair closer to you.

now you were taken aback from the sudden gesture that he wasn’t even fazed. his eyes were glued onto his folder but your eyes were glued onto his side profile. under the luminous light, it complimented his features well that you questioned how handsome can this boy get?

“whatever you do, please don’t get mad.” he spoke in a low tone. you distracted yourself with another thoughts, nodding quickly so you wouldn’t get caught doing the unforgiven, staring.

you gawked once he opened his folder, with the numbers written in red marker. a big fat 100 smacks you on the face.

“w-what..” you were in disbelief at what you were saying. you were confused as to why he needed tutoring when he got a perfect score. you studied so hard he night before the exam to get a passing grade of 100, but it only resulted in an 80. even worse, jake’s grade wasn’t curved.

it made you be in a lost of thoughts as you glanced at jake. you noticed how his shoulders crouching down and avoiding eye contact like a guilty kid caught in the act.

maybe he can be your tutor instead which is humiliating to accept.

“you lied?” jake whined mentally at how devastated you sound. he was trying to quickly find a way to defend himself but what would he say instead of, i just wanted to know you better? sounds like a psychopath.

his lips trembled, “i-i .. okay look y/n..” you softened when you said your name with such delicacy and softness that it slowly made you forget being disappointed at him. “i just wanted to know you better, not as a neighbor but perhaps a friend since we will be often seeing each other a lot.. and i couldn’t find a way to approach to you without being weird..”

jake rambled with his words, slowly breathing in a fast pace after his chest was relieved from all of the stress he endured of defending himself. he looked at you with sad eyes, knowing that he disappointed you, that you probably never want to ever see him again and how you will snitch to him to your parents and they will forbid you to ever go near him again. but instead of crying your heart out and running away as he imagined, you instead chuckled. you were amused at his creative idea that you wonder how can he have such an idea like this one?

“you wanted to know me better?” you asked again, appreciating the thought that he wanted to be your friend but in an unusual way.

“yeah..” jake lowered his shoulder, whispering his reply to you. he looked at you chuckling at him.

“we can be friends jake, you didn’t have to do all of this.” you slightly rubbed your eye with your index finger, tired of giggling from jake. “i know.. i guess i was scared that i might look like a weird guy to you.” he embarrassingly scratched the back of his hair with his hand. his hair bounced against his flustered head.

“well you seem weird from the first impression but other than that, you seem harmless.. i hope.” you scrunched your nose unconsciously, making jake’s heart fluttered from the dimples appearing on your face whenever you do it.

the more days spent with jake under the act of “tutoring him”, it was him tutoring you instead since he told you that he enjoyed math and physics.

you thought he was a crazy scientist planning to ban away society from earth but the more time you witnessed him enjoy doing homework, you couldn’t help but think about him from time to time in appreciation that there’s someone who’s sincere as him. effortless and a natural.

during those moments, he did nothing but make you laugh and somehow make your heart flutter from his doings. it influenced your heart to be a mess. moments such as pulling your back bag from behind so there’s less weight and it’s lighter to walk with it while going home together from school, raise your blanket higher whenever it lowered from your body whenever both of you studied, and making your body electrocuted from the constant coincidental touches both of you share unknowingly.

although there would be times where jake pulled out his witty jokes and random comments to gravitate your focus onto him, he never forced anything onto you. he keeps his boundaries on alert and respected your feelings.

for instance, if he tried to make a conversation with you while you were studying and you tell him to be quiet, he would. immediately. he would slide the chair away from you, slightly sulking and try to find ways to occupy his bored self.

playing games on his phone is one thing but another would be exploring your room. jake found your art journal from middle school while snooping your drawers next to your bed.

or that one time he unfortunately came across your polka dot underwear lying freely on the floor when he eagerly and abruptly came upstairs after school as you tried beating him first to your room after screaming that you didn’t clean your room.

yeah that was the first time you yelled at him.

besides that, there would be times where you found jake adorable such as trying not to sleep whenever both of you were alone in one of each other’s room, whining in how a certain teacher sucks at their teaching job, and the crazy story times he experienced in his life. it made you realize how such a human can have so much impact in your life in less than a year?

nevertheless, you had to avoid each other at school to not let any rumours about the two of you knowing each other be spread across. jake completely understood as you didn’t want any drama from occurring in your final year of high school. there would be times where the both of you spared glances and smile at each other, missing each other’s presences deeply.

there was a moment where both of you laid in jake’s bed after studying, taking a small break before you return home for supper.

“y/n i’ve been thinking..” your heart thumped after hearing jake’s deep voice while closing your eyes. you never heard jake with this tone so it felt new and exciting.

you opened your eyes, turning your head to your right to face him as his stare was focused on the ceiling above him.

“i really like being with you. you made me realize how there’s always good in a bad place. and i really want to continue to be with you…” you sharped a breath when his picky was interlocking with yours.

he finally turned at you and for once you were grateful that he didn’t witness how red your cheeks were becoming. you were become a mess at how sparkly his eyes were and beautiful his lips can be. especially with that piercing of his.

this feeling was brand new to you. you’ve never been close to a boy before as you were merely focused in your education. boys weren’t prioritizing your mind.

“do you like being with me too?” jake asked, softly as if you were gonna be broken glass. he was being fragile in case he will do something wrong to you. he spoke with hesitation.

your mind was filled with memories that you spent with him from the past few months and you can’t but wanting to spend more memories with him.

“of course i do jake. every moment i spent with you, i feel free against the world that my parents created from me. you make me feel like it’s okay to step out of the comfort zone.” you smiled against your lips.

jake soon did the same as you continued to stare at each other with silence, having a significant spark in each other’s hearts for the first time.

“can i court you then?” jake’s hand slowly creep to yours, softly grasping it. you looked down, your heart pounding as if it was gonna explode from your rib cage.

god you never felt more in love than before. “i would like that jake..” you sheepishly smiled, letting go of his grasp to hide your shy smile but jake didn’t allow that.

jake slowly took the hand that was covering your beautiful smile, taking his hand with it. you were silent, eyeing his every action as jake kept staring at you.

your fingers were lingering the cold metal against his lips and it made your body shivered.

it was like he was having a different emotion in his eyes that you couldn’t identify but you felt safe when you were with him.

jake pecked your palm and held it against his cheek. he closed his eyes, processing the fact that you’re now his and he’s yours.

and the fact that you have to hide it from your parents for now.

and here you are currently, “a penny for your thoughts pretty girl?” jake swept a strain of hair behind your ear. you shook your head, lowering your head in his neck to hide your flushed cheeks.

you would always do this whenever you were feeling bashful from jake’s bold behavior and he loved it. that he was the only boy that made you be like this.

“it’s just you’re so beautiful when you look like that..” you whispered against his neck. jake raised both of his eyebrows, surprise at the sudden change in your usual personality. the position you were in, where jake was sitting down and you were standing above him.

his legs being comfortably spread out so each of his leg is next to yours it made you be in a pit of nervousness and jake took note of it. jake always love how expressive you are with your own eyes as if it was telling a story if your mouth goes mute upon seeing his figure wherever, whenever.

seeing him below you caused a spark in your heart as his eyes stared at you with devotion and attentiveness. jake noticed how your eyes changed when you kept staring at him with a specific look. a look that makes him even more whipped for you.

“really?” jake’s hands slowly crept towards your hips, lightly massaging it before he pulled you closer to him, causing you stumble lightly and sit on his lap thanks to jake’s strength in holding you still. your legs straddled his each side of his hip.

you looked down, realizing the situation you were in but jake kept holding his signature smirk as he was loving your reaction. he kept staring at you, swallowing the beauty you are in front of him. he didn’t want to get you go, thinking you are a dedicate feather ready to disappear if let go.

“well uhm,” you scoffed lightly, keeping a wide grin to disguise the apprehension from your face. as you were at a loss of words - not having a quick way to reply to jake, he took it as an opportunity to steal a kiss from your soft lips.

the sound echoed in your head, making your heart flutter listening to it. you closed your eyes again when jake stole another one.

you looked at him, filled with fond and passion. the silence aura, it spoke louder than words of how much you two love it each other.

you lightly placed your hand against jake’s resting on your hip comfortably with a small smile on your lips. you rubbed his fingers lightly.

“i love you.” as fragile as you sounded whispering the truth spilled from your lips, your heart never felt any less warmer with any other guy besides your secret boyfriend in front of you.

jake’s other hand, cradled your jaw. his thumb was slowly rubbing your cheek as his thoughts were filled of the words “i love you” multiple times. he swore he was gonna be a psychopath with you.

he didn’t say, but you felt it.

“i love you too my y/n.” both of your lips collided with a deep kiss after jake exchanged his romantic confession to you.

“y/n!” you immediately pulled out of the kiss, mentally whining that it ended too quick due to your mother calling you.

“yes?” you yelled back back as jake didn’t stop kissing you. he continued showcasing his love for you when his lips touched your neck, having little pecks as he was attached from your perfume scent you sprayed on before jake’s parents arrived to your home.

you were squirming on his lap as his lips kept going places on your neck. the sounds of his lips touching your skin made your head be distracted from your mother’s voice.

you tried stopping jake, pushing your palms against his chest to pull him off but jake insisted, grabbing both of your wrists with his one hand. you felt jake’s smirk onto your neck as you felt the tip of his tongue on your hot skin, making you gasp.

“jake’s parents are going home now! please send jake downstairs.” your mother yelled out. you sighed after you replied with okay to her, ignoring your heart trying to escape from your ribcage.

“jake..” you called him before he gets distracted with his desirable thoughts of wanting to continue in kissing you. you ruffled his hair to awake his senses but he has beat you to it.

“what a shame..” he scrunched his nose. “i’ll go now, i’ll definitely miss you.” jake pressed his lips one last time to your cheek before you removed yourself from him to get his things.

jake grabbed his black, round glasses from your table and the flannel he tossed in your bed the moment he entered to your room.

this time, you were observing your boyfriend picking up his possession, especially with the gray sweatpants and a white plain tank top. simple yet still handsome in every way and form. you can’t believe that jake is yours.

before jake left, his hand wrapped around your door knob indicating his hesitation. “hm?” you hummed in confusion when you turned your head to see jake stand still. you were curious of what was holding him back.

“i’ll be at your window in 10 minutes.” jake looked back. his eyes were gazing your figure in your bed. you looked up at him and his heart still flutters just as he first saw you.

you taken aback with this new gesture of his that you didn’t know what to say. “i-ill see you then.” you let out a smile. jake smiled back before quickly heading downstairs. you heard the mixture of his voice and you the adults downstairs as you fell sideways in your bed, making your head bounce on your pillow.

with his mischievous and brave acts with you, you’re certain that one day both of you will be caught but you never objected the idea of doing so.

taglist ; @iraisswiftie @s00buwu

#enhypen drabbles #enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #enha imagines #enha scenarios #enha x reader #enhypen x female reader #enha smau #enhypen fluff #enhypen jake drabble #enhypen jake fluff #jaeyun fluff #sim jake #simjakefluff #enhypen jake #jake drabble

[tojisun]

i'm going to move on. whatever it takes, i will forget.

this was something that you began to carry around, the weight of the words a burden to your shoulders. you feel weak. you feel lethargic. floating. like a body drowning in stagnant waters.

there is no one else that could pull you up, you know that. god, you know that, but you continue to fall. splintering. breaking.

a washed up star, devouring everything in its wake as it sputters in its futile attempts to live—is this not you?

is this not the way in which simon left you? pawing at the flesh of your body, nails digging in as you poke and scratch, hoping to gouge out the pulsing organ because maybe, just maybe, if you had no heart then you would not feel this way anymore.

because he left you like this: a broken person, unable to live. to breathe. food no longer tastes the same, your bedroom smells sour—it still smells like his old perfume—and no amount of opened windows can make the scent waft away. you can barely drink your water, you can barely stand underneath the shower.

he left you like this: a ghost of what once was, unable to let go of the memories. you hear the rumble of his voice even when you smother yourself with your sheets, you feel the ticklish touch of his fingers running down the planes of your spine when you lay on your side. the spring air feels too cold. the spring sun feels too hot.

you are a miasmic reaction. a person with no purpose. a museum of all of your love, no matter the end.

simon still leaves you messages:

"your friends say they haven't seen you for a while now, love. i hope you're doing just alright."

"i'm sorry. i always will be. please, take care sweetheart."

you think he is the devil whom old folks in your hometown used to talk about; the king of evil who comes in a beautiful visage, before sliding in your dreams to devour you from the inside-out. the malevolence who sucks the life out from every pore so that he may leave you stranded on your bed, in your house, on your own skin.

because if simon isn't the devil, then why does he torment you this way?

he calls you beautiful names like they don't mean anything to him; it makes you question if they even meant something to him then, before the breakup.

maybe they didn't. that hurts.

maybe they did—this hurts more. because why would he continue to call you these? why would he continue to remind you of what once was?

your fingers twitch, poised for a reply. poised for anything—a plea, a question.

you send him neither.

instead, you delete his contact and shut your phone off. you throw it underneath your bed before sliding back under your sheets, the backs of your eyes prickling as tears build. pooling. then, falling.

(a weeping star—)

your regret peaks the next day as you clamber to your bruised knees, stretching your gaunt body to pluck your phone out of the darkness. you turn it on and add him back to your message list, frantic, heart in your throat, only to stop short at the reality of what you've done.

his contact is a blank slate now, just as empty as you are.

the words that you used to cherish, the ones where he called you his beloved and his angel and his favourite person ever, are gone. the proof that he loved you just as much has all been deleted, all because of your error.

you sob again, anguish anew. bile rises from the back of your throat and you stumble to your feet as you rush to your bathroom, your body knocking against the door before tumbling onto the floor. you heave.

what a mess you've become, still unable to reconcile the fact that your lover is gone now.

lover—the holder of all of your love.

simon.

simonsimonsimon.

he's left you, truly.

this is it, forever.

how cruel, you think, weeping, your hands trembling as you wipe at the corners of your mouth. how could he leave me this way?

the grief bloats, and you cry.

you cry because it is all that you can do. all that you are left to do.

("why're you cryin'?" simon asked, his thumb gentle as it swiped at the skin just underneath your eyes.

"i've missed you," you replied wetly, voice all nasally from your tears.

he huffed a fond laugh, the puffs of his breath hitting the bridge of your nose. he turned to cup your cheek instead, his other arm falling to wrap around your waist.

"y'know i'll never leave you, yeah?" his eyes were crinkled in his smile. "i've got so much love f'r you, petal. leaving you isn't even something that i can see happening."

you sniffled, nodding, your lips wobbling as new bouts of tears fell. simon smiled before he pulled you to his lap, gentle and careful. you tucked your face on the crook of his neck, finding comfort in his touch.)

you peel your eyes open, cataloguing the phantom pain shooting from the small of your back to your hip. you shift, careful as you rouse from the cold floor of your bathroom.

you think you dreamt of something—a memory, perhaps—but you can't quite recall what it was.

the sharp throb in your heart clues you in on what it might have been, but you're too afraid to jog your memory because you know you wouldn't be able to handle thinking about simon again. it is going to be a long day, after all.

a long, empty day.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley angst #suns #stares at you guys bug eyed #q #wrote this three hours ago or smthn bc i was feeling Big Emotions (sadness)

[bouncybongfairy]

Study Buddies

Peter Parker (Andrew Garfield) x Fem Reader

Summary: Peter Parker is your neighbor and, to put it bluntly, you've had a thing for him since moving in. One night, Peter discovers you're doing a report on the T. fabricii spider. This species is known for bounding and biting the female before sex. Peter decides to give you a live demonstration of this.

Word Count: 2.5k+

TW: Rough Sex, Blood Kink, Bondage, Nasty Smut.

Go to reference blog for smut: @kaionyx

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

To say you somewhat keep an eye on the sad man who lives across from you would be an understatement. Part of you felt like it was wrong to invade anyone’s privacy in such a way; the other side didn’t share these same morals. Living on your own, for the first time at 19 was really overwhelming. When you first caught a glimpse of him through the window above your bed, while reading After We Collied by Anna Todd. It had been a long day, School 9:00 am to 12:30 pm then work from 1:00 pm to 9:00 pm. Not to mention the homework and reading assignments from your professors. Even though you had a stack of homework needing attention you were procrastinating by reading. Feeling your stomach tightening and a hot blush creep onto your face. Then your ears started burning, which made you set down the book and get a glass of water. You saw him through the window as you walked back into the bedroom. He was taking his shirt off, setting his hands on his desk, and letting his head low. Either he was covered in a thin layer of sweat or water from the shower covered his body. You could see every muscle in his back and arms under his skin, completely flexed like he was in pain. His hair was brown and shaggy, flopping in front of his face, covering his eyes and nose. Cuts and bruises were scattered around his body, his mouth was hung open. Saliva was making his pink bottom lip glisten from the glow of the laptop on his desk. He was inspecting his own body, looking at all the cuts and abrasions. Out of nowhere, he moves to look directly at your window, which makes you drop onto the ground, hoping he didn’t see you. Your cat was so spooked, he attempted to run under the bed but unfortunately his rolls prevented him from doing so. You crawled over and began soothing him. 

“You don’t think he saw me right?” you asked as you gave him kisses between his ears. You were really hoping he didn’t see you, your hair was wrapped up in a towel for god sakes.

Standing up slowly, you checked to see if he was still there. When you checked, the lights in the bedroom were cut off making it impossible to see anything. After turning the T.V on and getting comfortable in bed again, you realize you can’t stop thinking about him. His body was so long and lanky, yet his muscles were still so defined and toned. You clear off your bed, and try to act like seeing your neighbor indisposed isn't affecting you. The next morning, you’d completely forgotten about last night's events. In fact, you were feeling quite chipper, immediately filling the cat's bowl. It was Friday and you couldn't be more excited to sit around and rot for the weekend. You were currently working at a bug museum that was a couple hours away from your college. It was super convenient not only distance wise but you loved the job. Sure the kids could get sticky and annoying but you liked working with all the insects. Nobody could waterboard this out of you but ever since you started working there, you’d become quite sweet on Spider-Man. It didn’t take long for you to put the pieces of the puzzle together to figure out his identity. Sometimes as you unlocked the door to the apartment building, you’d see a single web hanging from his window. Other times, you’d hear police sirens and then you’d hear the loud screeching of a heavy fire escape window open then close. You started keeping notes of all these little things. Currently being the manager of the Spider section of the museum, it gave you an excuse to research till your fingers bled. Trying to figure out what species of spider he could be. A theory you were itching to prove true or false, was that Spider-Man didn’t have naturally occurring webs but rather man made. A healthy spider doesn’t normally have a limit to the silk it can produce. When you watched him fight, he would eventually stop using his webs and rely more on crawling or jumping. You had a notebook where you noted all these little observations and ideas. 

After taking the subway to school, you rushed to get to your lecture on time. Calculus and Zoology were the last two classes of the week. Many of your peers had dropped the class by this point but that didn’t bother you one bit. It only meant more attention for you, not to mention the teachers became less… picky when it came to assignments. Hell there were times when you thought your English professor used your class as a rant session. You were praying the professors would take it easy on the class, you know… get into that Friday spirit a little early; they didn’t. As pitiful as it was to admit you were actually looking forward to your Zoology assignment; a research paper of an animal of your choice. As sad as that sounded, you really were excited about it, at this point it was like a special interest. 

Work was quite slow, only a couple people wandered in and left once they realized it wasn’t a themed cafe. This made you chuckle every time before turning back to your laptop. Honestly, you hated it a lot more than it was slow. When it was busy, it distracted you from being on your feet for 8 hours. Before leaving, you grabbed a book on the spider you chose for your report: Thanatus fabricii. The owner ended up closing early for the day which you didn’t mind at all. Practically skipping to the taxi you’d just hailed down. It was coming down so hard that you were practically soaked by the time you made it inside the building. Hair dripping and makeup beginning to feel sticky. It took you a couple times to shove the door open due to the weather making them expand and warp. Fat-Boy came and greeted you while opening the door. Meowing like he’s never eaten before in his life. You giggled at his nervous pacing while scooping a couple cups into his bowl. Setting your bags on the counter and pulling out your laptop, book and notebooks, typing at the rough draft of your essay. Suddenly Fat-Boy began clawing at the bedroom door which prompted you to go investigate. Walking into your bedroom and opening the door you shiver from how cold the air is. After flicking the lights on, you immediately notice the window was open. You rush over to close it, luckily there wasn’t too much water damage from the rain. Your stomach was doing summer salts, especially because you know it was closed before you left. Running back into the kitchen, trying to find a knife to arm yourself with. You could practically hear your heart beating in your ears. Suddenly something drops from the ceiling, causing you to scream. Immediately you recognized him as Peter, eyes dark and brows furrowed. He slowly started moving closer, you were frozen in fear. In complete shock, your flight or fight reflex is fully engaged. You thought he was coming towards you but instead, he went over to your computer and notes. Every once in a while his eyes would widen or he would chuckle. As scared as you were, you couldn’t help but take in all his little details. The cuts on his face or the bruising under his eyes. 

“I knew you were a horny little freak but I didn’t realize how nasty you really were,” he said, breaking you out of the dissociation you fell into. Still frozen in fear, you held up the knife a little higher, hands still shaking. 

“You’ve been studying me?” he asked, using a web to take the knife from your grip.

“I’m honestly impressed. I originally thought you were watching me because you wanted proof of my identity. I didn’t realize you were stalking me because of an infatuation,” he said, coming closer. 

You booked it, running towards the front door attempting to pry it open. Once you finally manage to rip it open, a web flies past you. Slamming the door closed with a loud bang. Immediately you run to the bedroom, knowing the fire escape is there. By the time you reached the window, he was already right behind you. He grabbed your arm and turned you around so you were facing him. His grip was strong, stone locked onto both arms. This was the first time you’d ever gotten a good look at his face. He looked like he was fraying at the edges. Eyes with pupils so wide they looked black, both eyebrows had splits in them. Bruising around his eyes and spread around his face. 

“I saw you’re doing a report on the T. fabricii spider, have you finished your research about how they mate?” he asked, you just stared at him. Ashamed that you were finding this erotic. The entire time you’d been watching him, he’d been doing the same. Made you feel inferior, like you weren’t as slick as you once thought. He wasn’t pleased with your silence and shook you a little to break you out of that trance. 

“No,” you said weakly, he let go of one of your arms and brushed a piece of hair out of your face. 

“They bite and bound the females before mating to avoid being eaten. Doesn’t that seem… efficient,” he said chuckling slightly. 

You were unsure of how to react, his energy becoming harder and harder to read. Originally you thought he only had violent intentions due to him discovering your infatuation. Knowing that his intentions were more sexual made you feel less stressed or scared. He let go of your arms and moved his hands to your waist then to your hips. You shivered as goosebumps began to prickle along your skin. Lowering his head a bit, he runs his lips over your ear and down your neck. Your back arches involuntarily, drawing a deep breath in from the sensation. 

“I like touch starved whores,” he growled into your ear, picking you up and using his body to press you against the wall, “getting wet from the littlest things, like me breathing down your neck or gripping your arm a little too tight,” he said into your ear. 

Not being able to take the build-up anymore, you smash your lips against his. The kiss was rough, continuously biting and nipping at your lip. Your mouth started to taste metallic, making you pull away. He didn’t let you, tangling his fist in your hair. Moving the two of you from the wall to the bed. The way he picked you up and threw you around made you feel weightless. Completely at the mercy of his strength, you welcomed it nervously. Teeth chattering and hands shaking, he was sucking hickies on your neck to the point where it was hurting. Starting to squirm a bit, he secures your wrists to the head board with webbing. Doing the same to your feet, completely paralyzing you. Instead of pulling your clothes off he rips them from your body. His strength and pure brute force was daunting, shredding fabric like it was paper. After undressing himself, he crawls back up. You couldn’t hold back a couple gasps and moans, feeling the tip of his length trace up your leg then inner thigh. He looked angry and focused solely on you. He rested his elbows by your ears, not caring that he was pulling the fuck out of your hair. This caused you to squirm even more, in reaction to this he sank his teeth into your shoulder. 

You cried out in pain as he slowly started adding more pressure to his bite. The hot burning sensation causes more pleasure than it should. Trying to aid the aching feeling from the lack of touch, you rub your thighs together. Spread your wetness all over your thighs. Becoming irritated with your lack of patients, he uses his knees to separate your legs. Letting go of your shoulder to sink his teeth into your neck. Now biting harder and more often; moving from your neck to your chest and other shoulder. You were beginning to foggy, face bright red and flushed. Once he was satisfied with his work, he turned his attention back to you. Grabbing you by the jaw to see the state of you. He practically moaned when seeing how glazed over your eyes were. Rubbing his shaft in between your folds, broke you out of this trance. Bucking your hips up, trying to create more friction between the two of you. Not liking how much control you had over your movements, he began binding you up tighter to the bed. Once he was confident in your restriction, he started pushing himself inside you. He was grunting and cursing under his breath, your legs being tied together making you that much tighter. He was big and you could feel yourself stretch around him. He buried his face into your shoulder, practically panting as he fucked in and out of you. The overstimulation being caused by the pain and pleasure simultaneously was driving you crazy. His arms were wrapped around your neck, almost suffocating you as he pounded frantically. Your moans and cries were strangled and garbled. A mixture of sweat and tears were running down your face. Being completely bound and restricted was making your stomach cramp with frustration. Unable to touch him or not being able to match his energy. 

He slowed down for a second and turned to make eye contact with you. His mouth was covered in blood from how often and forcefully he was biting you. Mouth hanging open and his face glistened in sweat. He catches your lips with his, indicating a sloppy kiss. He’s completely slowed his thrusts down to an agonizing pace. All your frustration and over stimulation coming to a head, you bite down on his lip as hard as you can. He pulls his head back and looks down at you with a shocked expression. 

“Faster,” you beg, accidentally spitting a bit of blood onto his face. He smirks down at you, before wrapping his hands around your neck. 

“Doesn’t look like you’re in any position to be making demands,” He growled at you before slamming his dick inside you. 

He was now using his hands around your throat to support his weight. It didn’t matter to you because he was now pounding into you at full force. Almost showing that he was as frantic to reach his orgasm as you were. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, letting your body go limp. Sucking in strangled breaths, he paid no regard to this to catch up at his current pace. You were getting close, your walls pulsating around him. Your pussy was contracting around him as you came. Black dots appear in your vision as you ride out that high. Seeing and feeling you cum was enough to send him over the edge. Rutting and spurting into you, completely blissed out as he came. Immediately after he was done he didn’t bother letting you free from the webbing. You were too exhausted and braindead to care.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker rough smut #peter parker imagine #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker smut #andrew garfeild x reader #rough smut #blood k!nk #spider man x reader #spider man x you #spider man smut #andrew garfeild smut

[corrodedbisexual]

I'm guessing it's been done before but I had fun screencapping Eddie's trailer myself and zooming in for all the little details so I thought I might as well dump it into a post.

Kitchen area/corridor overview with lots to zoom in on (including Eddie)

The corridor to Eddie's room. That's a cool calendar.

Table clutter & of course mugs

Eddie's bedroom. I refuse to talk about the fucking ceiling mold again, there's been a separate post for that.

Sweetheart & loads of other shit. I feel sad for the yoyo not getting any love in fanfics. With the way it's placed I'd say Eddie fidgets with it all the time.

Handcuffs my beloved & another guitar

It's funny that Eddie owns a basketball. Haven't noticed that before

And yes, the living room aka the hats & mugs museum

Everyone's favorite Garfield mug <3 But also check out that cool light switch in bottom right corner.

Steve technically counts as Eddie's trailer detail.

MUGS MUGS MUGS MUGS

I'm kinda fascinated by that bulbasaur looking thing 2 shelves above Garfield but I can't figure out what it is.

That is all.

#stranger things #screencaps #eddie munson #eddie's trailer #eddie trivia

[voylitscope]

CA: TWS Anniversary Ficlets

Daily ficlets for the CA: TWS 10th Anniversary Event @catws-anniversary. With Huge thanks to @sparkagrace and @cable-knit-sweater for running this wonderful event! 💞

One | March 26th | Theme: On your left | Prompt: The Smithsonian | Words: 250 | Canon compliant | No warnings

In his bed, in the middle of the night, and all alone, Steve wakes up to visions of Bucky falling. Over and over. A recurring nightmare. 

(A memory.)

Inside the walls of a museum, during dedicated daytime hours, surrounded by dozens of people, Steve watches Bucky smile.  Over and over. A looped bit of film. 

(A memory.)

On a lotta days, seeing those forever persevered few seconds of his life helps.  There are days it's soothing —  a concrete reminder he can hold on to. There are times he uses the bit of film to prove to himself that happy moments and better times were real. 

But.

But on other days, watching that smile take shape is somehow more painful than waking up alone in his too-big bedroom with visions of Bucky falling behind his eyes. There are days when Steve watches and all he can think is about those happy moments being long gone. Times when all he can think is that'll he never see, or cause, that expression ever again. 

There are days when it's like a repetitive stab to his heart. 

But then, sometimes. 

Sometimes, he stares at the looped footage, and he lets himself recall a hundred other smiles. Sometimes, his brain draws up images of mornings in Brooklyn and the way Bucky's smiling mouth had looked only inches from Steve's own face, and — 

And that hurts, too. 

But Steve replays it in his mind, anyway. Over and over again. A moment from long ago.

(A memory.)

(Ficlets Tumblr-exclusive until all are complete.)

#CATWS10 #SteveBucky #Stucky #Stucky fic #Stucky fanfic #my fic #my writing #(in my ideal life I'm also going to post a TWS anniversary event rec list #and another chapter of my WIP in the next few days)

[infi8ity]

FOR THE PAST SIX NIGHTS, YOU HAD BEEN PLAGUED BY THE SAME REOCCURRING SINFUL DREAM.

dream. these were no ordinary dreams. a lucid dream you dare say-- but no, they were real. you knew they were. his presence, his touch had been very real.

you’d wake up in your bed, enveloped in a blood-red hue flooding through your windows from the crimson-hazed sky. sweat glistened on your skin, covered by but a thin silk white slip-on nightgown that clung to your braless and pantyless state like a second skin.

you were in your bedroom, but it was not the one you knew. you were not in the world you were familiar with. the stifling heat of the room and the hellish state of the world outside mildly alarmed you, you being accustomed to this disposition after waking here for days.

this was the least of your worries.

your biggest one being the horned man in the corner of your room. you could never let go of the terror that struck your heart at the sight of him. there he always stood, shirtless, head pressed against the tall window pane obscured in the shadows of your room. unmoving. 

even with your vision restricted by the lack of natural lighting, it was hard to miss the distinction of muscles that graced his tanned back. he dawned black slacks that sat low enough on his hips you could see his defined v-line. his feet bare.

thunder booms across the sky, shaking your room violently and startling you; the horned man, however, is unaffected. seconds following, scarlet lightning strikes down and had you blinked you would have missed the way the bleeding night sky illuminates his features allowing you mere milliseconds to gaze upon him and admire his features.

it was his eyes that captured your attention first. feline and sharp. a sea green that held no warmth. his thick pink lips turned downwards in a grimace that seemed to be permanently etched on his face. his curved horns were masked in the dark brunette mop of his hair that fell just before his eyes.

inch by inch of him, perfectly sculpted. as if michelangelo himself carved him with the utmost precision and care. you almost mistook him to be a statue like those of museums.

until he spoke. breaking you from your enchantment with him. a startling realization that he was not made of ceramics and wood but flesh and bone.

“what is your deepest desire?” he says slowly as if he is tasting the words. his voice was deep and laced with honey from the seductive nature of his tone.

and for the past six nights, you were at a loss for a response every time he asked and only met his question with your own. who are you? what are you? what do you want from me? what’s your name?  is this a dream?

to which his reply was always the same.

“wrong answer, y/n.” your name on his tongue sounding sinful.

and each time, the horned man of an abnormally tall stature would pad across the room towards you. heart hammering, you’d scramble backward, your back digging into your wooden bed frame.

he stops at your bedside, and as if leaning for a kiss he hovers his face mere centimeters from yours. his eyes drop to your lips. instinctively, you lick them, your breathing heavy and uncontrollable. he reaches out, his thumb gliding across the moisture of your lips. his skin is hot and the warmth that rolls from him in waves sends chills through you.

“what is your deepest desire?” he whispers tenderly against your lips.

it was then you became aware of the growing heat that pools your belly and the wetness that fills between your legs. you clench your legs tightly together, hoping to rid of this sinful sensation. this wasn’t right. you were being seduced by a hauntingly beautiful devil. and you were at mercy of his touch. a touch you desired.

“i-i don’t know.” you would stammer without fail. a lie.

he would hum in disappointment and trail his thumb from your lips across your exposed collarbone. “wrong answer again. shame.” he murmurs, his finger sinking lower. his thumb ghosts over the fabric of your hardened nipple, eliciting a whimper from you. his other hand finds contact against your thigh reaching forbidden territory.

everything about this was wrong, but why did it feel right? why did it feel good?

his hands halt abruptly just before he reaches your dripping cunt. he stands, returning to his usual perch near the dark corner of the room, resting his head on the window. “goodbye y/n. have an answer for me tomorrow night. sleep.”

and you fall through the sheets, waking in a cold sweat in your actual bedroom. morning light intruding your eyes. without fail, that was how the dreams would play out.

but tonight, tonight would be different. through the long days and hours of the week, the face of the horned man haunted your thoughts and clouded your mind. you could think of nothing else but him. during your lectures, during your shift at work, during your morning and night prayer, and your services at church with your family.

tonight, you would give him an answer.

you had never felt the touch of a man against your skin for all the twenty years you’d been around the sun. you hadn’t even allowed your fingers the pleasure of exploring your own sex. the idea of saving yourself for marriage had been ingrained in your mind at the words of your priest father who shunned the idea of sex before marriage.

“protect your virtue y/n. do not give into temptations” he would say.

but this temptation was screaming your name.

“what is your deepest desire?” the beautiful horned beast asked again for the seventh time that week, in the same spot without fail.

“m-my deepest desire?” you start, unable to find your voice. the man hums in response as if to confirm indeed that was the question. “it’s you,” you say, sitting taller in your bed.

“from the moment i wake up, it’s you i think about. you, i burn for.”

thunder. lightning cracked across the sky shortly after. and the horned beast wears a lazy smile in replace of his usual grimace. you find confidence in this, standing as you wearily make your way across the room.

“is that what you wanted to hear? the sinful thoughts that fill my mind when i think about you? the way i grow hot and every night anxiously await sleep so that i can see you again? the times that i’ve touched myself wishing that it were you instead? is that what you wanted to know?”

your heart is racing with excitement now. you reach your hand out and touch his back ever so lightly. he spins to face you with inhuman speed, snatching your hand in his. you stumble backward in surprise at his iron-like grip and the heat of his hands. he edges towards you, his face smug.

“yes, y/n. i’ve watched you. all those nights, your pretty fingers playing with yourself. unable to give you the satisfaction that you need. crave.” he growls.

the back of your legs hit your mattress. afraid, you crawl atop your bed as he inches closer. something shifts in his eyes as he looks down on you, like prey seizing up his predator. his eyes shine with something sinister.

“what a-are you?”

he smiles. it’s wicked and it’s alluring. “an incubus. a sex demon. someone who will fulfill your desires. do you know your problem, y/n? do you know why i have visited you every night for a week straight?” he asks, voice softer.

unable to manage words, you shake your head, trembling.

“because for the twenty years, you’ve graced this earth– you’ve never experienced the pleasure of an orgasm. not even by your own hands… but i can change that.” his hands dance across the spaghetti strap slipping from your shoulder. you leaned into his touch, sighing.

“i can smell your arousal right now. rolling off of you in waves. i could smell it for a while before i came to you. the sweetness and strength of it were enough to drive me insane.” he sniffs the air around you deeply. “i knew i needed to have you. needed to taste you.” his breath tickles your skin, his breath fanning hot against your barred neck.

“like humans need food to survive, we incubi need sex. it is an incubus’ only nourishment. and for reasons i will not disclose, i starved myself of it for months. naturally, because i was voiding myself of nourishment– it took a toll on me.” and at his mention of it, you notice the bags that sit below his eyes. his skin paler. eyes duller. “until i discovered you. a preacher’s daughter. untouched and filled with sinful thoughts i find that only i can satisfy.”

his nudges his lips against yours, grinning.

“will you let me satisfy you y/n?”

without hesitation, you nod. he tsks, unsatisfied with your response, and digs his knee between your legs, pushing them apart.

“that won’t do y/n… use your words.”

never had you been so sure of something in your life. quite frankly it was embarrassing how badly you lusted for him. wrong. it didn’t stop you from whispering breathlessly, “yes,” and pulling your nightgown over your head, discarding it across the room.

he took in your body from toe to head, his gaze unreadable. insecurity creeping upon you, your hands fly to cover your exposed tits when his hands pull yours away. the hunger in his eyes was suddenly unmistakable. he was very pleased.

and he consumed you in a hungry passionate kiss. his tongue danced with yours, and your bottom lip was pulled between his teeth. he swallowed your moans. his hands found refuge clasped around your throat, squeezing the sides of your neck with just enough pressure for you to feel the pressure throb in your dripping cunt.

his kisses trail down the side of your neck, down the valley of your hardened breasts, he even catches your nipples in his mouth, biting and kissing softly and amongst your stomach, so dangerously close to your pussy. his lips drift past the crook of your hips and legs when his movements halt just as he reaches the inside of your thighs.

he pulls away from you, your legs perched on each shoulder; panting breaths the only sound filling the room, muffling the roar of the thunder outside. you try to pull him towards you desperate for more but he stops you gently.

“rintarou,” he breathes.

“what?” you ask, confused.

“rintarou is the name you will scream as i fuck you into oblivion.”

with no warning, rintarou dips his head and latches his mouth onto your clit, sucking roughly. the foreign sensation elicits piercing cries from you and your hands find a hold on to your bedsheets, your back arching off of the bed.

his expert tongue, darted in and out of you– licking at your folds with the right amount of precision and pressure as if he was familiar with your body. he lapped at your juices, like a starved man, which perhaps he was… your moans filled the room as you scramble for purchase, searching for something- anything. your hands grip the curved horns atop his head at the same time that his teeth graze your clit, you tug against the hardened bones mercilessly, a moan escaping him, the shock of it stopping rintarou in his tracks.

“i-i’m s-sorry-,”

“do it again,” he demands, resuming his assault on your pulsating vagina. you could feel the build-up of pressure vibrating through your body and proceed as told when rintarou slides a finger inside of you. he matched the pace he fingered you with the speed at which he lapped you up with his tongue. drinking in your juices.

“rintarou, please. feels so good.”

“tastes even better,” he hums against your entrance.

he lifts your hips in the air with his mouth as he toys with your nub relentlessly and adds a second finger. curving it against your walls, your moans grow louder. his resting hand moves to fiddle with your bouncing breasts, pinching and pulling at your nipple. he adds a third finger to the rest sheltered inside of your walls that tighten around him, and thumbs your clit wildly; your cries and whimpers like music to his ears.

the growing sensation in your core, burning like fire in your pit, one could only recognize as an orgasm on edge, shakes you.

“i can’t- i can’t- please!”

“you can. come into my mouth. let go.” he coaxes, removing his hand from your sore breasts and entangling his fingers with yours.

you give in to the sensation and release yourself, your eyes rolling to the back of your head at the sudden release of pleasure. he releases his hold on you, allowing you to fall back against your sheets at a loss for words and air.

you’re given mere seconds to regain your composure and possibly think about your life choices at being celibate before rintarou pushes up from the bed. his hair is wild and his low eyes are locked with yours as he slides down the band of his pants down his waist. it’s not hard to notice the bulge itching to be freed. his hands slide against his waist. slowly. teasingly. testing you.

your pussy still burns from the ache of pent-up release and rinatoru’s assault but you knew that this was nothing in comparison to the orgasm that soon awaited you. you spring up, impatiently enjoying the show.

rin looks between you and his pants, silently permitting you control.  you were surprised at how calm you appeared under his watchful gaze. you push his pants down his hips, allowing his cock to spring free from its entrapment.

you marvel at its sight. a few lengths longer than your hand, you were unfamiliar with the likes of others, but a gut feeling told you this was an impressive length and girth. like him was beautiful. the tip was angry and red. leaking with precum and as if calling out to you– drew you to reach out to offer release.

halted by rin, he stares at you a while before drawling, “i’m here to please you y/n. don’t worry about my pleasure. tonight i’ll take it slow on you. this is not the last you’ll see of me. your taste is addicting.”

his lips meet yours, raw and red from his constant sucking and biting. he nudges your back against the mattress, your body at his will. his dick brushes against your lower abdomen and you can hear the way the pressure shakes him so. he halts his movements and hovers his body above yours, still.

“if you find yourself uncomfortable or in pain, tell me to stop. i don’t want to hurt you. understood?”

“y-yes. i will. i’m ready. i need you.”

“and you’ll have me. remember to breathe.” he advises, aligning his tip with your entrance. “this will feel strange.”

and he eases his cock into you, stretching your walls. your nails graze against his back, dragging along his skin, marking him at the sudden intrusion. your mouth is stuck in an O as rintarou pushes into you, groaning, from your chastened walls tightening around him, the pleasure unimaginable for either of you.

“fuck, y/n. need to stretch you.”

your pleasure is blinded by a piercing pain that swells in you; robbing you of words, only managing to cry out. before long, rin bottoms out and holds himself still, allowing you to adjust. but you, ever impatient, beg for him to move. you itched for pressure.

“rin, don’t hold back. fuck me, please.”

and he does. he slams upwards into you, a screaming moan escaping you. his hands find your nipples and he plays with your tits as he rocks his hips into you. you could feel every inch of him, gently sliding against your walls with each thrust.

quickly, you could feel the build up of pressure in your stomach and knew you were not far off from coming. it felt too early, you clenched around him, hoping to hold off on your release. but you only set rintarou off.

he quickened his pace within you, hungrily pulling you into a kiss to drown out your moans. his tip hits that spot that shatters you. you come loudly, white hot liquid spilling from you painting his member.

its no secret that you’d come sooner than expected. but you’ve pleased him and yourself nevertheless.

you lie still against the cum and sweat-filled sheets. unable to move and not wanting to pain yourself further, trying to hold on to that warmth. your chest heaves wildly. you feel the bed spring up from the movement of rintarou standing, you sit up quickly. too quickly.

he turns at the sound of wince and guides you back down towards your pillow. “no, you need to rest. you’ll feel sore tomorrow.”

“you’re leaving?” disappoint heavy in your tone and face.

he chuckles, thumbing your chin. “i’ve awakened something hidden within you, i’ve yet to explore what makes and breaks you.” he cups your sex, tracing soft circles into your folds. yelping, you squeeze your legs together tightly at the intrusion of pain and cover his hand with yours. “i’ll be back when you’ve had your rest.”

“sleep y/n.” he says pulling the cover to your chin.

you sink into the mattress, back in your room. dreams of positions and feelings that you needed him to explore with you.

he’d awakened something indeed.

#infi8ity∞ #infi8ity∞nsfw #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #hq #haikyuuu smut #hq!smut #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #suna #suna rintarou #suna rintaro #suna x reader #suna rintarou x reader #suna smut #suna rintarou x y/n #suna x you #suna x y/n #dom!suna #suna rintarō

[sinfullyrosey]

*slams hands on table in a dramatic fashion*

Tired am I of the fics featuring Reader (and or one of the other characters) being uncomfortable and disgusted by Rook’s creepy quirks, yet still being paired up with him!

Instead, I bring forth to you the concept that Rook’s partner is unbothered by his actions, not because they condone or support his stalker-ish tendencies and constant destroying of other’s boundaries!

But simply because they’re into that shit.

Voyeurism. Photography. Predator/Prey. Hunting/Chasing. Obsessive Devotion/Praise.

All of those are legit kinks some have, and out of everyone in TWST, Rook would benefit the most by finding someone who appreciates and loves those forms of affections. While yes, his actions are not appropriate towards those who clearly want him to back off and feel uneasy towards him. In fact it’s kind of illegal.

But towards a partner with these kinds of kinks?

Rook must be the jackpot they’ve been looking for!

Like, imagine his partner being into photography: While in public, they take regular pictures of whatever, whether it be nature, models, animals, food, etc. But in the privacy of their own bedroom? Suddenly, the photos become much more vulgar, risque and focuses more on intimate moments shared between the two.

I especially like the angle of his partner specifically photographing themselves as their own model, whether in a pinup sort of way or through an artistic lens that utilizes nudity and symbolic narratives. Maybe they do submit these photos to art museums or maybe it’s just something they enjoy doing in the privacy of their home and they just keep the pictures to review after each session.

Or, more salaciously, they only do photography in the bedroom because they enjoy capturing those shared moments with him so that they can easily look back on them and relive the moment again, even if he’s not around.

As for the voyeurism angle, maybe his partner likes it when Rook takes pictures of them or watches them from the shadows because it gives them a special kind of thrill. Maybe they like the attention and knowledge that Rook looks at them as a piece of art to be gazed at and appreciated. While others may find his eccentric and obsessive nature towards beauty to be annoying or too much as it were, they don’t.

In fact, they may even agree with him whole heartily and thrive off of his over-the-top appraisal towards them to be one of the sexiest aspects about him!

This can further go hand-in-hand with an artistic photographer, because maybe they understand Rook’s viewpoint better than anyone else, because they’re the exact same way. And this translates into their photography as they try to set up good lighting and camera angles during their sessions to better capture these images to visualize their personal views.

Not to mention I think Rook would also appreciate finding someone who is similar to him in this regard and is openly receptive to his advances. It’s clear he enjoys the chase (he is a hunter after all), so finding a partner who’s open to participating in predator/prey or hunter/hunted type roleplays is probably a dream come true for him.

Maybe early on in the relationship or heck, even before that, when he’s still courting them, they would “play hard to get.” They were coy with him, keeping him on his toes and keeping him guessing as to whether or not they were just as interested in him as he was with him. One minute they were accepting of his invitation for a nice walk around Pomefiore, only to turn around and reject the bouquet he was attempting to gift them and refusing to even look his way.

Only for him to catch the glint in their eye and the subtle quirk of a smirk on their lips.

This got way longer then I intended and I kind of got off topic, but like these are just my thoughts. I’ve always loved analyzing characters and trying to pinpoint the type of partner would work best for them. And Rook is one of those special cases where fandom writes him off as a creep which isn’t wrong tbf and only seems to be interested in writing him as an unhealthy partner when like, the opposite is so much more interesting. Rook just needs to find someone who’s into the sort of stuff he does and would view it as a fitting love language.

#Twisted Wonderland #TWST #Suggestive #Rook Hunt X Reader #GN!Reader #I was listening to Pretty Women from Sweeney Todd while writing this #so I was mainly imagining Rook's partner as female tho no direct references to a specific gender is ever stated #I both love and hate this blond French bitch

[soapyghostie]

Hello in case you didn't wanna write the other one could I request choptop and/or Nubbins with a shy reader who lives art and drawing??? I always draw them in my sketchbook ahaha

Thank you xx

🎨

Hey! I’m sorry about your other request. I didn’t feel comfortable writing it. However, I did this one! 🙂 Although, I couldn’t come up with much, but hope you like what I could muster up.

Choptop Sawyer

You love to draw? Draw him! He’ll persistently bug you. What no better way to make beautiful art than to draw him because he’s absolutely magnificent. He’ll frame the drawing in his bedroom. It’s so realistic that it almost looks like a photo! Now he can show off, not only his music, but your amazing, and handsome, drawing of him. 

He likes to speed flip through all your sketchbooks. I don’t actually think he looks at them because he goes through each of them within minutes: you have like a million sketch books. Again, it’s Choptop so you never know with him. Then again, he may be actually looking at them. I guess we’ll never know. 🤷‍♀️ 

He’ll steal drawings out of your sketchbook, without you knowing, for keepsake. He’ll keep them hidden so if you do recognize they’re gone, Choptop can just play dumb. He doesn’t want to give them back; you just make amazing art work and he has to have a drawing or two to admire. 🥺 

Do you need inspiration? He got you covered! Music is a pretty good inspiration right? Well, Choptop has plenty of different genres that he can play on his record player! For your information, he just says that, but he only has rock music. Hope you like rock. Anyways, He likes to play his music loud when you draw; Drayton never lets him so he likes to think it’s an exception to be able to play it loud.

Nubbins Sawyer

When you tell Nubbins you like art, he gets excited. He loves art too! Yeah… he shows you blurry photos of roadkill and talks about where, when and how he found it. For reals, remembers every specific detail about each individual picture. It’s weird, but it’s Nubbins. Just let him rant. 

Nubbins comes up with the idea of collabing. He’ll go out, take pictures and then come back to give them to you so you can draw them. It’s brilliant! He just really wants you to draw his roadkill; he worships your drawings more than his photographs. He’d rather carry around something you’ve created to show off, when hitchhiking, so he can brag about how talented his significant other is. 

He’s gone into your studio without your permission and painted on your blank canvases before. You’d probably let him paint again if it wasn’t for the fact he used animal blood as his choice of paint. 🤢 You’re studio smelled of iron and death after that and never again. 

Nubbins likes it when you sit down with him and go through your sketchbooks. He asks a lot of questions, more than an art student would at an art museum. It’s overwhelming because it’s just one question and then the next: he sometimes even interrupts his own question to ask another one. At least he’s interested though.

#slashers #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #horror #slasher #nubbins sawyer x reader #nubbins sawyer #chop top sawyer x reader #chop top sawyer #texas chainsaw massacre #tcm #sophi ghostie writes

[sisterspooky1013]

Gaslight, Chapter 26/48

Rated X | Read it here on AO3

Washington, D.C.

He pushes his face into the crook of her neck and she giggles. It’s not a sound he’s ever heard her make before, and it feels like his heart might burst. 

He’s sandwiched between her and the back of the couch, and his arms are wrapped around her waist, holding her steady against him. Her breath smells sour, like hops, and the heat of her back against his chest is just so—right. It just feels so fucking good to be close to her like this. 

“Stop it,” she whines, but he can see by the way her cheek is puffed up that she’s grinning. 

He does it again, but this time he presses his lips to the soft skin of her neck. She makes a little sound like a stifled gasp and her body goes rigid, and he immediately pulls away. 

“Sorry,” he says, loosening his grip on her as his cheeks flame. 

“No, it’s okay,” she insists, grabbing his hand to stop him. “You just surprised me. I’m not used to…”

“Old habits die hard,” he finishes for her, and she nods. “Take two?” he asks, lowering his mouth to her neck. 

She tilts her head to the side in invitation, and when his lips brush across her skin she sighs. 

“That feels good,” she says quietly, like she’s telling him a secret. 

And it does. It feels so good. So incredibly good. 

-

When he first opens his eyes, he’s momentarily confused by his surroundings. The room is dim and still, with none of the familiar sounds or smells of home. He turns his head to one side and sees an end table with a lamp and a digital clock on it that reads 6:35 am. He turns his head to the other side and sees the chestnut tangle of Diana’s hair on the pillow, and the curve of her waist. He’s still in D.C. 

He swings his feet over the side of the bed and sits up, then stretches his back. Several loud pops sound off along his spine and Diana stirs and rolls over. 

“Jeff?” she says groggily, and he grunts in response. “What time is it?”

“Early,” he says. “I think I’ll shower and head home.”

She sits up and turns on the bedside lamp, and he blinks against the blast of light on his dilated pupils. 

“I’m going to go home with you,” she says in an uncharacteristically tender voice. “The rest of the firm can manage without me, and I think we could use some quality time together.”

He twists around to look at her. She’s sleep rumpled but alert, and the corners of her mouth quirk up a little in a sympathetic smile. 

“What about your car?” he asks, and she opens her mouth, but then closes it. 

“I can ask one of the records clerks to drive it back up,” she suggests. 

“You don’t have to do that, Diana, we can just meet up at the house,” he objects. 

“No, I want to,” she insists. “I’ve been gone so much lately, and I see now how that affected you. I want to drive you home, Jeff. We can stop by that NSA museum in Annapolis you were telling me about.”

“The National Cryptologic Museum?” he clarifies, and she nods. “Okay,” he says, returning her smile. “That sounds really nice.”

She joins him in the shower, and while he appreciates the extra attention she seems determined to bestow on him, he’s too unsettled from the day before to respond to her advances. He makes an excuse, telling her he’d rather wait until they’re in the comfort of their own bed, and she is disappointed but understanding. He steps out and towels off in the bedroom, and she joins him a few minutes later with dripping wet hair. 

“I’m gonna go get us some breakfast,” he tells her as he dresses in jeans and a black T-shirt. “Take your time getting ready.”

“Thanks,” she replies, puckering her lips and waiting for him to cross the room and kiss her goodbye. 

Outside the hotel, the rising sun has already warmed away the dew of night, and the only people out are locals and the occasional overzealous tourist trying to be first in line for the museums. He walks a few blocks until he smells the skunky aroma of coffee beans and follows it around the corner to a small cafe. There’s no line, just a few people waiting at the end of the bar for their drinks, and he steps up to the register as he peruses the menu. 

“Good morning, let me know when you’re ready to order,” says a twenty-something barista with grown out pink hair. 

He orders two large black coffees, one with room, and two blueberry muffins, and pays with his credit card. The barista directs him to wait at the end of the bar, and within a few minutes he has the coffee and pastries in hand. He pops the lid on the cup with room and goes about mixing in Sweet and Low and cream to Diana’s specifications, stashing a couple extra packets in his pocket in case it’s not sweet enough. 

“Mulder,” someone says, and he snaps his head over to see a man with long blond hair and square black glasses staring at him. “I mean, um, Jeff. Jeff Spender?” the man corrects himself, taking one step closer. 

Jeff looks around, though he couldn’t say what he’s looking for. The man seems to be debating what to say next, and he looks remarkably nervous. 

“Who are you?” Jeff asks. “Why did you call me that?”

Now the man looks around, then beckons someone with a tilt of his head. Jeff follows his eye and sees a tall brown-haired man approaching, dressed sharply in a polo and slacks. The two men make eyes at one another, and the brown-haired man speaks. 

“Mr. Spender,” he says smoothly, offering his hand. “My name is John Fitzgerald Byers, and this is my associate Richard Langly.”

Jeff takes his hand and shakes it, looking back and forth between the two men skeptically. 

“Do I know you?” he asks, and the men exchange a look. 

“No, you don’t,” the one called Byers says. “But we believe that we may have some information that will be of interest to you.”

Fear and curiosity war as he tries to get a read on the men. They don’t immediately strike him as nefarious, but neither did Nick. He looks at both their ears, trying to detect a wire. 

“You called me Mulder. Why?” he asks the blond man, Langly. 

Langly opens his mouth, but Byers speaks for him. 

“Does that name mean something to you?”

“It might,” Jeff answers noncommittally. 

The three of them stand there, and he has the distinct sense that they are each guarding their own hand, unsure what to show and what to hold. He knows that trusting them is risky, and at the same time this could be his last chance to get answers before Diana tightens his leash for good. 

“Who is Mulder?” he asks, and the blond man’s head cocks back like he’s struck by the question. “What?” Jeff asks him pointedly, and the man looks over at his friend for help. 

“You are Mulder,” Byers says simply, with a bob of his head. 

The corners of Jeff’s mouth quirk and he narrows his eyes. 

“What do you mean?” he asks, shaking his head. 

“You used to go by the name Fox Mulder. That’s what we knew you as,” Byers says, indicating his friend.

There’s a long pause as Jeff tries to orient this information in his brain. He very quickly comes to the conclusion that it is at once impossible and ridiculous. 

“I don’t know what’s going on here,” he says, somewhat angrily, “but I would really appreciate it if you could tell me who the hell Mulder is and why people keep calling me by his name.”

“We’d like to help you,” Byers says, lowering his voice in an attempt to encourage Jeff to do the same, which is a trick he’s leveraged with his clients. “But we only have limited information. We can put you in touch with someone who knows more, though, if you’d like.”

Jeff looks at the two coffees and muffins sitting on the bar. Diana is waiting for him. 

“I need to make a phone call,” he says as he pulls his cell phone out of his pocket. 

“Of course. We’ll be right outside,” Byers says, and the two men exit the shop. 

He taps his foot against the floor as the phone rings and rings. 

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me,” he says, trying to sound casual. 

“Hey, you, how’s the coffee coming?” Diana replies sweetly. 

“Well, it was coming until I dropped it on the sidewalk two steps from the hotel door, if you can believe it.” He closes his eyes and cringes as he lies, like he can keep the guilt out if he doesn’t look right at it. 

Diana chuckles. “I can, actually.”

“I’m going to run back and grab a new one, so I’ll be a little bit longer. They were pretty busy so it might take a while. Just didn’t want you to wonder where I was.”

He’s unpleasantly surprised by how easy it is. How smoothly it rolls off his tongue. 

“I appreciate that. Good luck. Maybe ask for one of those drink cradle things this time.”

“Will do. Talk to you soon,” he says, and begins to pull the phone away from his ear. 

“Jeff?” she says, stopping him. 

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

It’s a sucker punch in the gut, and he hunches over a little at the impact. 

“I love you too, Diana. I’ll see you soon.”

He insists on driving his own car, and follows their Volkswagen bus just a few minutes before it pulls into the garage of a small white house. Jeff parks on the sidewalk and approaches the door, which opens before he reaches the front porch. The brown-haired man is there, smiling and inviting him to come inside. 

The air smells warm and electric, like overheated plastic and lysol. Though the logical part of his brain tells him to be careful, he finds that he feels oddly comfortable as he passes into a living area that is lined with tables and computer equipment. 

“What is this place?” he asks as he walks around, reading random documents and examining unfamiliar devices. 

“Holy shit! Mulder!” 

He turns to see a third man, shorter and older than the other two, looking at him as though he were an apparition. 

“Mr. Spender, this is Melvin Frohike,” Byers introduces them. “We ran into Mr. Spender over at Burial Grounds,” he explains. 

“Did you call Scully?” the man named Frohike asks, and Jeff’s heart leaps into his throat. 

“Dana Scully?” he asks urgently, and both men’s jaws drop open.

“You know Dana Scully?” Byers asks him. 

“No. I know of her,” he says. “We met once.”

“You met a helluva lot more than once,” Frohike murmurs, and Byers jabs him in the ribcage with an elbow. 

“Langly just went to get her,” he says. “She’ll be here very soon.”

“Is that who…that’s the person you said will have more information about Mulder?” Jeff asks. 

The men look at him for a beat. 

“Yes,” Byers finally says. “You should be aware that there are still significant gaps in information that we’re actively trying to fill, but she knows more than anyone else.”

They offer him a seat and a beverage, and he accepts the former but declines the latter, slumping into an armchair. 

“My wife is waiting for me,” he says with some irritation. “Will this take long?”

“I’m not really sure,” Byers says. “It doesn’t take long to explain the situation, however you may have some questions.”

“When you said that Mulder is me, what did you mean?”

Byers sits on one end of a couch that’s perpendicular to the chair and rests his elbows on his knees. 

“I meant exactly what I said, but I know that probably doesn’t make much sense to you right now,” he says gently. 

They hear the rumble of the garage door opening, and they all wait. A sick, nervous feeling churns in Jeff’s belly, and he’s not entirely sure if it’s due to the possibility that he’s about to get answers, or because he knows that any moment Diana will call and ask where he is. 

“Where is he?” he hears an urgent, harried voice say from another part of the house. 

“Right through here,” the voice of Langly answers, and suddenly she’s there, standing in the doorway to the living room. 

She’s small, both in height and mass, maybe more so than he remembers. She’s wearing blue jeans and a white button-up blouse, and her hair is much neater than their first encounter. Her face, just as beautiful, is scrunched up in an expression of absolute agony, though there is relief there, too. 

“Mulder,” she croaks, taking several quick steps towards him. 

He sits up and stiffens, and she halts as she reads his body language. 

“You’re Dana Scully,” he says, and she nods in confirmation. “Thank you for coming over,” he tells her. “I’m hoping you can help me understand who Mulder is and why people keep calling me by his name, yourself included.”

Her shoulders drop, and he watches the bit of relief on her face drain away as her eyes grow wet. She looks over at Byers, who is still seated on the couch near him. 

“He doesn’t remember?” she asks, and Byers shakes his head with a sympathetic frown. 

“Remember what?” Jeff asks, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice. “Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on? My wife is expecting me back; I don’t have much time.”

“Your wife,” Dana repeats under her breath like it’s a dirty word. 

“Why don’t you take my spot here, Agent Scully, and fill Mr. Spender in,” Byers says as he stands. 

“You called me Agent Scully,” Dana says with what sounds like pleasant surprise, and Byers stops and looks at her for a beat. 

“I did. That’s what I always call you,” he tells her, and a pained smile breaks out over her mouth. Even all tear-stained and twisted up, it’s a beautiful smile. 

She sits down on the couch, stealing little glances at him as she gets comfortable. The way she looks at him is so familiar, the way someone who knows the story behind every scar might look at you, and it makes him a little uncomfortable. 

“I have to preface this by saying that it will sound completely unbelievable, but I assure you that it’s all true,” she begins. She catches his eye and holds it, and a feeling of calm relaxes him just for a moment. “Two months ago, I woke up in the hospital and was told that I sustained a head injury. I had no memory of my accident, nor any events of my life since some point after 1992. I didn’t remember my husband, or my children, or the deaths of my father and sister. I tried to carry on with my life, but something didn’t seem right.”

She stops and looks at him again, gauging whether he is still with her. He nods, and she continues. 

“I’ve since come to learn that I’m not married, and I don’t have children. I did not sustain a head injury. For reasons that I’m still working to understand, my memory was manipulated. Erased. I was not employed as a doctor, as I was led to believe, but rather I was a Special Agent with the FBI, and I was partnered with a man named Mulder. He and I witnessed something, or became aware of information that we weren’t supposed to see or know, and as a result, this was done to us.”

Again, she pauses and looks at him. He’s still trying to absorb what she’s saying. The fact that she worked for the FBI tracks with what his client said. Memory erasure is not something that is possible, to the best of his knowledge. But those parts feel less consequential. Mulder was her partner. Who is Mulder?

“That sounds like a difficult situation to be in,” he tells her. “You have my empathy, Ms. Scully, but what I’m still not understanding is what this has to do with me, and why I keep being mistaken for this man Mulder.”

Her chin trembles and she bites her lip, then pulls in a steadying breath. 

“You are Mulder,” she says, looking right into his eyes. “He is you. You can’t remember because of what they’ve done to you.” She must see the disbelief on his face because she shakes her head and looks at the coffee table. “I wish I had a way to prove it to you.”

He isn’t sure what he was expecting the answer to the Mulder mystery to be, but it wasn’t this. 

“My name is Jeffrey Spender,” he says plainly. “I’m a therapist. I’ve been married to my wife Diana for over ten years. I did join the FBI in the eighties, but I never graduated from the training academy at Quantico. Before we crossed paths in the coffee shop, I had never seen you before in my life. I’m sorry, but you have the wrong guy.”

“Come on, man,” Frohike interjects. “Think about it. Why would people keep calling you Mulder? You don’t think that’s a little bit weird?”

“I have no idea,” he admits, “but I’m relatively certain that it’s not because I had my memory erased. That’s not even medically possible, is it?”

“Is there medication you have to take every day?” Dana asks, and he looks at her sharply. “There is, isn’t there? Does your wife make sure you take it?”

He thinks about his blood pressure medication on top of the microwave back in Philly. He hasn’t taken it in days. 

“Wives harassing their husbands about taking care of themselves isn’t exactly anomalous,” he says with a shrug. “It’s comic strip material.”

His phone rings, and he silences it. 

“Do you have strange dreams about people and places you can’t remember, but they feel familiar?” she asks next, and he sighs. 

“I think everyone does. So then are you saying my wife had her memory erased too? She doesn’t take any daily medication.”

Dana sits back in her seat. 

“No. I’ve been told that she’s involved,” she says carefully, watching his reaction. “And she isn’t your wife.”

“Involved? In what way?” he asks, immediately defensive. 

His phone rings again. 

“Is that her?” she asks, and he silences the call. “Does she keep a close eye on you? Always needs to know where you are and with whom?”

“I don’t like what you’re suggesting, Ms. Scully,” he says sharply. 

Dana sits up again, rubs her hands over her face, and leans in toward him. 

“Please listen to me. Your Manatua Virus vaccine, the one that was administered at the base of your neck? It’s not a vaccine, it’s a computer chip. It interferes with your memory, and it also allows them to track your location. If you don’t answer that phone call, someone will likely be at the front door within the hour.”

The three men give each other fearful looks, clearly believing what this woman is saying. His phone rings again. He flips it open and holds one finger to his mouth.

“Hey, Diana,” he says as soon as he answers. “I’m sorry, something crazy happened at the coffee shop. I’m on my way back now.”

“Something crazy? What do you mean?” she asks in a voice that makes his balls draw up into his body. 

“A domestic dispute of sorts. I’ll tell you all about it in five minutes, okay?”

“Okay. I’ll be waiting,” she says, and he hangs up, then stands. 

“I have to go,” he tells them as he makes his way toward the door. 

“Mulder, please,” Dana calls after him, following him into the foyer. “If you remove the chip from your neck, you’ll remember. Please, just let me remove it,” she begs. His hand is on the doorknob when she speaks again. 

“Your parents are Teena and Bill. Your sister is Samantha.” He pauses and, taking his hesitance as doubt, she continues. “You hate black olives. You have a scar on your foot from stepping on a beer bottle when you were drunk at Oxford. That scar on your shoulder? I shot you, to keep you safe. You told me once that you—”

“I don’t know what kind of sick joke this is,” he barks as he spins to face her, and she recoils, backing up until she collides with Byers, who lays his hands on top of her shoulders to steady her, “but Diana and I have been together for over a decade. My father’s name is not Bill. My sister died when I was twelve. I never did any actual work for the FBI, and I don’t know who you are. If you could please stop sending people into my life to call me Mulder for whatever twisted reason that motivates you, I would greatly appreciate it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to my wife.”

He slams the door behind him and stalks back to his car. He wanted answers, but he’s leaving this place even more confused than he was when he arrived. It doesn’t make any sense. Why would they say those things about Diana, about him? What would motivate someone to cook up such a completely implausible story and try to rope him into it? Money? He doesn’t have much of it. 

He speeds back toward the hotel, actively working on the details of the story he’ll tell Diana about what waylaid him. Maybe he should punch himself in the face to garner sympathy. Maybe…

He passes by a gentlemen’s club called “Sly Fox” and slams on his brakes. He pulls off to the side of the road as two memories, one fresh and one faded, come together in his mind. 

You used to go by the name Fox Mulder. That’s what we knew you as.

That’s it. Yes, Fox. 

Diana had called him “fox”, but then lied about it. Why would she do that? Why would anyone do any of this?

His phone rings again. He ignores it. 

None of it makes sense. None one bit. Not what that Scully woman said, not any of his theories about why people keep calling him Mulder. Diana would never do something like that to him, even if it were possible, which it’s not. But still, there’s this nagging feeling that there’s a kernel of truth in it. There are so many questions and so few answers. Would he have seen this situation differently years ago, when parapsychology and the mysteries of the universe called to him? When convention and science offer us no answers, might we not finally turn to the fantastic as a plausibility?

He doesn’t believe that any of it is true. But he also has to admit to himself that he doesn’t completely believe that it isn’t. 

Tagging @today-in-fic

#the x files #x files fanfic #txf #dana scully #fox mulder #xf fanfic #x files #the x-files #xfiles #thexfiles

[pomegranateboba]

Hey, Pompom! I know you're not very good with angst, but can I get the ArTw men who were so busy that they forgot MC's birthday? This is more of an angst with a happy ending.

MC was just in their best outfit, waiting for the special surprise from the LI for their birthday. But after waiting for so long and realizing they forgot, MC cried in their bedroom. As they cried, the LI walked in on them crying. And after some apologies and talking, they make up for the missed birthday the next day. That's all, thank you and goodnight! <33

Ohhh shittt that's sad (AND ONE DAY AFTER MY BIRTHDAY TOO) Okay we can do this lmao

When the boys forgot Summoner's birthday

Arcturus

Another banquet was coming up, so he was really busy the whole day

Everyone kept dragging him around to do work, so he didn't even get time to talk to you

You tried to talk to him in those little moments where he wasn't moving around, but he brushed you off and went back to work

He went to go find you when you didn't show up for the banquet that night, and he saw you crying in your room

It suddenly occurred to him what he had forgot, he could have sworn something was bugging him throughout the day

He felt so bad ;(

He immediately ran up to hug you and started apologising profusely

He didn't mean to forget, sorry Summoner :(

You both cuddled for the rest of the night as an apology

He spent the rest of the following day with you, doing whatever you want to compensate for the time you both missed yesterday

He did bring you to the greenhouse to have a small walk, and so that he can show you his plants

Baked a little cake together to share

The 2 of you stayed up again to watch the stars together on the field outside the Neb Aula while Arkcy knitted a little beanie for you

"Happy belated birthday, Summoner. Love you &lt;;3"

Spica

Do I even need to explain, this man is busy 25/8

But today he was particularly busy (isn't he always though?) so he was too caught up in paperwork to talk to you

You did try to text, but he left you on delivered

Well he left everyone on delivered, but it still hurt that he didn't answer you anyways

It was only until he finally picked up his stella tab and checked the messages then he realised

He put down all his work and rushed to the Neb Aula, and to your room, where he found you in tears

Was incredibly guilty for not remembering your birthday

He sat by your side as he apologised, slowly lulling you to sleep, stroking your hair as his gentle voice coaxed you to sleep

He left once you fell asleep, where he rushed back to his office to finish as much work as possible, so that he can have more free time to spend with you tomorrow

Not a single paper was touched the very next day, his beloved Summoner would always come first

He brought you out to a museum, then to do whatever you wanted for the rest of the day

Got you a personalised necklace, and put it on for you

You 2 shared a little cupcake at a cafe

"You never fail to make me happy, Summoner. Happy belated birthday."

Alpheratz

Why would Alpheratz be busy? He literally runs away from responsibility (and Spica)

Unfortunately, this was not one of those days where he would be free enough to lie around

Spica made him compensate for the missed work, so he was too busy to see you

You tried to talk to him, but you couldn't even find him around the school, he was moving around too much

He was on the way to bed when he heard crying from your room

Which was when he realised

He actually felt really bad, had he been neglecting his beloved?

He knocked and went in, apologising and explaining his situation to you

You made him stay and sleep with you, and he willingly did, so you cuddled

He brought you out to shop, letting you get whatever you want

Took you to your favourite restaurant for dinner

He was a little unsure of what to get you, but he got you an oversized sweater from the same shop he buys his own clothes at

"I know this is for you, but I'm really happy too. Happy belated birthday, Summoner."

Pollux

You both normally see each other a lot, since you 2 take pretty much the same classes

But there was a huge project during this period of time for one of your classes, and unfortunately you both weren't partnered

You and your project partner finished up really quickly, but Pollux took a longer time

You tried talking to him, but he always shooed you away, very focused on his own project

His partner gave you an apologetic look, mouthing a 'happy birthday' to you

It was nice that his partner somehow knew and wished you a happy birthday, but the fact that it was them and not Pollux made you sad. Did he forget?

Nearing night, Poll had finally finished up. He immediately ran up to your room, where he found you in tears

His partner had reminded him that it was your birthday, and he felt so bad. How could he had forgotten? He was looking forward to this day as much as, if not more, than you were

He also burst into tears when he saw how sad you were, apologising over and over again for forgetting

Eventually you both (mostly Pollux, he was more sad than you were) calmed down, and you fell asleep in each other's arms

The next day, he brought you out to a fair that was taking place, and you 2 spent the whole day there

He got you a stuffed polar bear that he won from a shooting game, as well as a huge collection of other things you both won from other games, but the polar bear was your favourite

You 2 shared candy from a huge pile that Pollux got from a shop

"Happy belated birthday, Summoner. I promise I won't forget next time!"

Vega

This is where the actual angst begins, the ones above are nothing

Vega would be the last person to ever forget your birthday, there is a 99.9% chance he would remember, because why would he not?

Unfortunately for you both, this was that 0.01%

Vega had came back from a failed mission, which made him extremely salty

He refused to interact with any living being, which included you

You tried talking to him, but he always cut you off, asking you to leave him alone and go away, acting like how you both first met when you first ended up in the boundary

You were extremely hurt by this, you never expected Vega to be so cold to you at this point of time

Eventually you gave up on trying to talk to him, and you went back to your room

In truth, he was extremely bothered by the fact that he had forgotten something, and the failed mission only worsened his mood

He didn't want to look bad in front of you, afraid that you wouldn't like him anymore for messing a mission up, afraid that he was too incompetent to be your protector, to be yours

It was near midnight when he finally remembered what he forgot, and he sprinted to your room, where he found you already asleep, but the tear streaks were evident on your face

Vega's heart clenched at the sight. You had waited for him, even tried to remind him, but all his did was shoo you away

And that night, Vega cried outside your door

How undeserving he was, not to remember the one day that meant so much to you. How could he call himself your best friend, your significant other, if he couldn't even remember something as simple as your birthday?

He went back to his own room, tears streaming down his face. What a terrible person he was, to be so cold to you, even after all you 2 have been through. How could he ever earn your forgiveness for such a horrible act? How could he repent his sins?

The next day, you woke up feeling a little better from yesterday, still sad though, so you went to find Vega

Vega was already awake when you found him waiting at the lobby of the Neb Aula

He brought you to an empty field, where he had prepared a picnic for you (with Arcky's help, he had no idea how to do this on his own)

You both spent the day together at the field, eating the food prepared or simply frolicking around (or you dragging Vega around)

He got you a small music box, its gentle melody had reminded him of your time back in Mid Earthium as kids

"Happy belated birthday Summoner. I love you, and I hope you do too."

Sirius

Sirius is also very unlikely to forget something like this, knowing his personality

But somehow, he did.

He was off doing...actually you didn't know, and neither do I. Whatever shady sorcerers do, I guess

You couldn't find him throughout the day. And he didn't seem to have his stella tab on him, because he wasn't answering your calls. Unless he was ignoring you of course

He hadn't remembered, mostly because he doesn't really celebrate his own birthday

He's been around since Polaris, and after resetting the timelines so many times, altering time so many times, he wasn't even sure how old he was anymore

It was all for you, of course. But he was so focused on his main plan to save you, that he forgot little things here and there. And your birthday was one of those little things

It finally occurred to him what day it was, and he rushed back to Contell immediately, coming into your room through your window, which was conveniently left unlocked for him

It was really late, it wasn't even your birthday day anymore, it was like 2 in the morning of the next day

He found you already asleep, but he could tell you were crying just before this

He sat on an armchair by your bed and as he watched you sleep, Sirius questioned his entire existence

How did he forget that it was your birthday? He should have known, people who aren't sorcerers don't live as long as those chosen by the constellations. Just because he felt that his own birthday wasn't important, doesn't mean that yours wasn't either. In fact, it was all the more even more important

Then he remembered the times you had actually celebrated his birthday with him, as well as other little events he himself didn't even know were things, or simply just hanging around him and going out

No one else he knew did that with him, except Polaris. Which made him love you more. The 2 people whom had cared and loved him so much. He knew he couldn't save Polaris, they had gone too far to be saved. But it wasn't too late for you. And even if he couldn't, the least he could do, is make the time you spent with him the best your ever had

The next day, you found Sirius asleep on the armchair in your room

He took you out (on a date, he doesn't need to shoot you twice.) to a play, one in which he had written the script.

And for the rest of the day, the 2 of you just hung around, and you didn't mind Sirius bringing you around to places you didn't know even existed. But that was what you liked about him, wasn't it?

He brought you back to your room and tucked you in.

He didn't get you anything, claiming that his presence was your present. But you found yourself cuddling a plush of a black dog, with a familiar ribbon tied around its neck when you woke up the next day

The window was left slightly ajar.

"Sweet dreams, Summoner. Happy belated birthday."

Rigel

I'm feeling a little extra today (and I don't want to do linear graphs yet) so here you are @tophatmaker

He is the clan leader of Queen Tet. He swears his own clan is out to drive him insane (they are)

Like Spica, he is consistently busy. And today, Queen Tet was involved in a prank targeted towards Tharaval

He was too busy cleaning up the mess and yelling at his clanmates to remember that it was your birthday

You were shooed away when trying to talk to him

He only realised late at night when he was about to finally go to bed and get some sleep

He went to your room, where he found you sitting on your bed, silent tears streaming down your face

He was very guilty, though you couldn't really read his expression

He made it a point to punish his clan a little harsher for making him forget such an important event (rip Pollux and Sirius)

You couldn't really blame him though, because you knew about the clan-wide prank and understood that Rigel had to clean up his clan's mess

Didn't really make you any less sad that he forgot though

Still, he comforted and explained to you, apologising for forgetting

The next day, he made sure that Queen Tet was running laps around the school under supervision of Spica before bringing you out to walk

He allowed you to go on a shopping spree as an apology, rip his credit card

He took you to a fancy restaurant for dinner, where once again you abused his credit card. He's internally dying, but it's for you, his beloved Summoner. So all is forgiven

Got you a bracelet, one that you had pointed out to him because it had reminded you of him

The 2 of you shared an ice cream sundae together to end the day

"Happy belated birthday, Summoner. I hope you had fun today."

I got carried away for Vega and Sirius, I think there's more angst than happy ending 💀 Ehhhh whatever.

Remember to hydrate yourself and now I have to do linear graphs wish me luck

#arcana twilight #arcana twilight arcturus #arcana twilight spica #arcana twilight alpheratz #arcana twilight pollux #arcana twilight vega #arcana twilight sirius #arcana twilight summoner #arcana twilight rigel #arcana twilight headcanons

[borathae]

↳ Index [Day 22 - Fisting & Masturbation]

Pairing: Sanguis!Jungkook Solo feat. him thirsting over the others

Kink: Vampire!JK, male masturbation, thigh rope bondage, self spanking, cock spanking, self choking, biting, self blooddrinking, anal fingering, anal fisting, mirror sex, handjob, lube, subdrop, the aftercare!!!

Wordcount: 4.5k

a/n: i was the one who requested this and i am not ashamed to admit it jsjsjs. have fun besties, i promise that you’re gonna get so many more horny stories with SA!Koo in the future🖤

Jungkook is looking at himself, twisting and turning in front of the mirror. He is playing his music loudly. Grunge. He hopes it’s enough to mask what he is planning on doing. If he wasn’t playing his music, the whole castle would probably listen in and Jungkook is way too shy for that. He doesn’t mind when he’s fucking other people, but when’s alone, he feels a certain shame about the whole act.

Jungkook tugs his jumper right above his belly button, inspecting his legs and cock. He wrapped red rope around his thighs and hips in a pretty Shibari pattern. Jungkook turns and looks at his butt. He framed it with the rope, making it look bigger than it actually was. He makes it jiggle by giving it a spank. It leaves a faint burn on his skin. Jungkook squeezes his thighs together in reaction. He spanks it again, releasing a shaky moan because of it. It feels so good to spank himself. Jungkook gives the heated flesh a soft squeeze to soothe it. This really felt so good…

He drops his jumper again, making it fall over his butt and exposed dick. It ends just a little under where his relaxed cock would end, the sleeves are just a little too long, hiding his hands in big sweater paws. Its black colour matched with the red of the rope and the ivory of his skin. 

Jungkook drops to his knees, eyes locking with his own reflection in the huge mirror of his bedroom. He places his hands on his inner thighs and drags them up to his cock. He tilts his head up slightly, releasing a shaky sigh. The rope feels nice under his fingertips, his skin is sensitive and tingles oh so much. He touches the hem of the jumper. His eyes flit down, waiting for the moment he exposes his cock.  

One tug 

He gasps.

There it is. 

His cock. Almost completely hard. Jungkook blames the act of self-tying on his boner. He loves self-tying so much. When rope is on his skin, he feels such a sense of control and power over himself. As if for as long as the rope is on his body, he won’t turn into a monster. Jungkook feels safe jerking off when he is tied up.

Jungkook places the jumper behind his cock and dances his hand back to this thigh. He gives both of them a harsh squeeze before running his hands up to his dick. He uses just his fingertips at first, tracing his impressive veins all the way up to his tip.

He moans softly when his fingers come into contact with his cockhead, thighs squeezing together and cock twitching into his touch.

Jungkook doesn’t have to be alone right now. He has multiple options to choose from if he wanted to. Hoseok and Seokjin are working out in the ballroom gym right now. He is sure that if he got them drunk enough he could have “some fun between friends” with them. You and Taehyung returned from your museum date twenty minutes ago. Jungkook can hear you cooking together. Taehyung is currently pretending to fight you while you tell him in a giggle to “put the cucumber down, darling. It’s not a sword”. Jungkook is sure that you would have agreed for some fun. And Taehyung. Well Taehyung.

Jungkook grunts, locking eyes with himself. His brows furrow. His fingers close around his cock and begin moving up and down.

Jungkook is sure Taehyung would have joined too.

“Fuck”, Jungkook presses out, massaging his frenulum with his thumb. His cock has hardened completely by now, sitting in his palm heavily. Jungkook moves his hand around it quickly, eyes falling back to it to make the sensations twice as intense.

Yoongi is home too. Jungkook can’t hear him currently, but while Jungkook was tying himself, he could hear glimpses of guitar play which was very distinctively Yoongi. The Creator must be in his wing, making music like always.

Jungkook parts his legs, ass coming into contact with the wooden floor. Like this his thighs are stretching the ropes to the point where their only escape is to dig into Jungkook’s skin. The pressure and tension feels so fucking good that Jungkook is chasing the sensation by opening and closing his thighs repeatedly to apply less and more pressure. All the while his hand is tugging at his hard cock in a needy rhythm. It almost feels as if he is riding cock like that. All that was missing was the cock.

Jungkook thinks again. He is sure that Yoongi would have already waited for him with some sort of toy or his cock out, if he had decided to ask him. His teacher always knows what Jungkook wants even before he could voice it. So many times Jungkook didn’t even know that he was horny while Yoongi was already ready to jump in and take care of his poor aches. So many goddamn times, their training ended with Yoongi having to take care of Jungkook’s neediness which the feed triggered in him. Yoongi assured him that this was normal for a Ripper Youngling like Jungkook and then presented his cock wordlessly for him to find release on.

“Yoongi”, Jungkook whimpers, hand falling over his mouth a second later. His fingers have stilled around his cock, his body is tense. He didn’t mean to say his name. He was too lost in the fantasy and said what he thought about. Oh god. Did he hear him? Jungkook holds his breath and listens through the loud fog of grunge music. He can’t hear anything. He must have been lucky.

Jungkook exhales shakily and drops his hand from his mouth, gripping his own thigh. He begins moving around his cock again and locks back onto his own eyes. He has to be more careful from now on. Yoongi may be the last person listening in like a creep, but Jungkook is very well aware that out of all the vampires currently present in the castle, Yoongi was the one most likely to accidentally catch a glimpse of what Jungkook was doing. Three thousand years do that to one’s senses. Jungkook can’t risk being caught. It would be so embarrassing.

Jungkook lifts his butt from the floor, now truly kneeling in front of the mirror as he keeps jerking off his big cock. The rope is digging into his sculpted thighs, tensing nicely around his crotch area as well. Jungkook uses the surge of electricity the pressure gives him to twist his hand around his cockhead and slip his left hand between his legs. He cups his heavy balls, rolling them between his fingers in a sensual massage.

“Ah god”, he whispers, dropping his head just to look. He is so huge already. That’s so embarrassing. He wasn’t supposed to grow out of his human size already. Not that soon. He hasn’t even started with what he actually wanted to do.

Jungkook slows down his hand gradually until he comes to a full stop. Doesn’t matter that he is bigger. He just has to act so much quicker then.

Jungkook gets on all fours so he can reach the bottle of lube he stupidly enough put too far away from where he was kneeling. He manages to reach it by arching his back and getting on his elbow.

He sits back down on his heels once done and prepares the next step of tonight’s fun. A red dildo, currently fixed to the floor by its suction cup. It is way smaller than his cock, his human cock and especially his vampire cock. But Jungkook still likes it a lot because the shape is nice and it’s easy to take. Jungkook jerks it off to spread the lube, breathing heavily in excitement. 

He can’t wait to get it inside. He wants nothing else than to bounce on dick as he jerks off his cock. 

Jungkook positions himself in front of the dildo once it's covered in enough lube. He lowers himself and tries to slip it inside. 

"Ah", he gasps, flinching back. 

It’s so big. And he is so tight. 

Trying to take it actually hurt. Jungkook looks between his legs at the toy, furrowing his brows. Why did this actually hurt? 

Jungkook tries again, lowering himself only to instantly give up when his hole burns and pinches.

"Fuck", he presses out, reaching behind himself to trace his rim, "why am I so tight?" he wonders out loud, massaging his hole to get it to relax again, "calm down Kook, take a deep breath", he tells himself, wrapping his hand around his cock to jerk it off for motivation. He takes a deep breath, releasing it shakily now that he is massaging both his cock and hole. 

Maybe he was being too greedy. He needs to give his body time. Yoongi always scolds him for being way too impatient. He has to listen to him. He has to take it slow. 

His fingers are still wet enough from the lube, but Jungkook wants more. He reaches for the bottle and opens it with his teeth. Then he hovers it over his cock to wet it. He spreads it eagerly, staring at it with ruby eyes. 

Slap.

"Hngn", Jungkook mewls, cock burning where he spanked it. He couldn’t help himself. His cock is so wet and big. All he wants to do is spank it and make it hurt. 

Jungkook gives himself one more spank, fucking his own fist desperately. He wants to keep going, but spanking gets him way too close. He has to stop even if it hurts. 

"Please", he begs himself, knowing very well that he won’t give in, "oh god, wanna be spanked", he keens, touching his cock normally even if he doesn’t want to.

Slap!

One last time. He had to try one last time. 

Jungkook falls on all fours, feeling his fangs come to light instantly. He mewls loudly, back arching and tensing. He is going to cum. The spank was too much. He played with fire and got burned.

"Control yourself", he orders, slapping his own face, "calm down." 

His cock throbs against nothing, covering the floor with a puddle of precum. It aches so, so much. 

"Calm down, it’s okay", Jungkook whispers, soothing his cheek with a soft caress. The worst part is behind him. He gained back control. He won’t climax against his will. 

Jungkook exhales in relief and rewards himself by covering his fingers in lube and connecting them with his hole. 

He closes his eyes and parts his lips in bliss, concentrating on his soft touch. He traces his hole, massaging it gently until it feels oh so sensitive and needy for more. 

Jungkook pushes his middle and ring finger inside. They slip in without resistance, barely even giving him a stretch. Jungkook slips in his pointer finger instantly. There it is. A stretch. It may only be a soft stretch, but it was a stretch nonetheless, leaving Jungkook to sigh in bliss.

He fucks his fingers in and out of his hole slowly for just thrree strokes and then he grows impatient again. He speeds up, giving his needy ass a rough finger fuck. 

"Yes", he moans, "holy fuck, yes."

His digits feel so nice in his ass. They are just a little smaller than Yoongi’s, but a lot bigger than yours. Jungkook likes to think of those two pairs of hands when he jerks off because they each brought him the most pleasure he ever felt. The day at the church still plagues him perfectly. The day at the gym still haunts his memories. Jungkook swears it was one of the best days of his life. And all the days on the road still keep him up at night, not in agony but in pure happiness. Jungkook really, really loves your hands and Yoongi’s too. 

Jungkook curls his fingers, tickling his prostate out of hiding. The touch feels like a gentle warmth for now. Jungkook really likes it, sighing to himself as he keeps on moving his fingers. 

He is so proud of himself. He is taking it slow. He is giving himself time. Yoongi would be so proud of him. Yoongi would call him a good boy and then he would feed him another finger.

Jungkook slips his pinky inside, whimpering loudly. The stretch is a lot more now. The warmth against his prostate grows too.

"Yoo-", Jungkook stops himself before he could mess up again, wrapping his own hand around his throat and pressing down hard, "ngng", he lets out, feeling his cock leak onto the ground. It feels like a constant stream of wet warmth leaving him. Yoongi’s name is tickling his tongue. Your name is close second. The pressure on his veins is so nice. His fingers feel so good in his ass. Jungkook pushes deeper only to fail because lube was missing. 

"More", he begs himself, "please more."

He knows he has to give it to himself. There is no other person in this room, even if in his fantasy he is currently with Yoongi and you. 

"Please", Jungkook sobs softly and drops his hand from his throat even if he doesn’t want to. He reaches for the lube with trembling fingers and slips his hand free from his ass.  

The emptiness makes him sob again and work oh so sloppily just so he can get stuffed sooner.

Jungkook covers his entire right hand with the lube, using so much that it actually runs down along his wrist and forearm. He doesn’t want to risk anything. 

He drops the bottle without closing it, getting on his hand and reaching behind himself. Jungkook propes at his hole with his whole hand. The longer of his fingers slip in first. Jungkook barely feels the stretch. He pushes deeper, gasping when his pinky slips in too. And then his thumb. 

"Oh god", Jungkook croaks, pushing more and more. He forgot that the hand position he chose enables his thumb to stuff him too. It feels so good. The stretch is so intense. Jungkook feels himself grow impatient again. He knows that it will probably end in him going too far and hurting himself, but he doesn’t want to stop. He is impatient. And oh so needy.

Jungkook pushes more, managing to bury his fingers inside him all the way to his knuckles. The stretch makes him tremble. 

"Please", he whimpers, pushing more. His hand slips deeper. Jungkook knows that the moment of struggle will come soon. Deeper and deeper and deeper.

And.

Wait a damn second. 

Jungkook puts more pressure on his hole and...slips in.

“Ah”, he gasps, twitching away because of how harshly his hand slipped in. He could even feel how the resistance snapped when his hole finally gave up. Jungkook moans so brokenly and so loudly that he is very sure that someone heard him. He couldn’t even stop it from happening. But it feels so good that he doesn’t even mind. All he needs to do is to keep going.

Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut and whimpers.

He's got his hand inside. He, he, he actually managed to take his hand past his knuckles. It wasn’t part of the plan, but now it is. Forget the dildo. Jungkook has his fucking hand inside.

Jungkook lifts his head and looks into his glassy eyes. He dares to move his hand a little, widening his eyes and moaning loudly again. He throws his hand over his mouth, losing balance and almost falling face first onto the floor if he didn’t catch himself at the last moment.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god”, he chants, forcing himself back onto his elbow. His head, he keeps tangling low, eyes squeezed shut tightly. He arches his back and moves his ass back onto his own hand.

“Aa-a-ah”, he moans shakily, dropping his forehead against his own arm. His hand slips deeper, forcing the biggest part more and more into him. The stretch and pressure are almost unbearable and yet Jungkook wants more. He pushes his hips back and pushes against his hole simultaneously. One more time his hole struggles. One more time Jungkook feels like ripping apart. One more time and then he can feel the resistance snap again and his entire hand is finally inside. His rim is pressing down around his wrist, fluttering and convulsing involuntarily. 

Jungkook sobs in happiness, lips pulling back in a pleasure contorted smile. He can’t believe he is doing that. He is actually taking his own fist. This is all he ever wanted to achieve.

Jungkook begins moving, going slowly. Maybe even a little cautiously. He never did that before. What if he messes up? One movement in and Jungkook is very aware that he can’t mess up. Not in a million years. Oh that feels so good. He can’t have the fist as deep as he could have it when someone else gave it to him. The angle and the flexibility of his own wrist prevent him from slipping in deeper. Jungkook could take so much more. Maybe down half an arm. He is so horny and needy and turned on that he could most definitely take half an arm right now. Most definitely. Jungkook trembles in an involuntary convulse of his muscles as a reaction of his fist rubbing against his prostate.

“Oh god.”

This is so hot. He is taking his own fucking fist.

“Aha, ah, ah”, Jungkook moans freely, cock leaking on the floor and thighs trembling. He keeps his hand moving, forcing his hole to take the thickest part repeatedly. It feels like too much each and every time and Jungkook can’t get enough of it.

His ass feels so good around his hand. Warm, tight, soft and wet. It is seriously so tight. As if Jungkook isn’t regularly stretching himself. He wonders just how tight he would be if he wasn’t so trained in anal. He clenches around his fist for a glimpse of it, regretting it in an instant as this makes his prostate grind against his hand.

Jungkook almost drops on the floor. He seriously does. He catches himself at the last moment, using whatever strength he can muster to keep his thighs working hard. They are trembling like crazy, barely holding his weight.

Jungkook arches his back and fucks back against his hand, chasing the feeling of how it felt to have his fist against his prostate. He clenches around himself, even if that makes the pressure on his rim almost unbearable.

“Oh god, oh god please”, Jungkook sobs, scratching his nails down the wooden boards. He is pretty sure that he is leaving marks on them, but he can’t help himself. He has to claw at something to ease the pleasure.

Jungkook speeds up his fist, forcing his hole to make the sluttiest sounds as it gets fed fist over and over again. Jungkook almost goes insane at the sound. He thinks that the fisting feels even more intense when he can hear it.

Jungkook wails and tilts his head just to bite down on his own arm. His fangs are on full display so the bite goes so incredible deep. It should hurt like crazy, but Jungkook is so high on pleasure that he barely even feels it. He feels himself moan around his arm however, moaning again because that is all he wants to do.

He is fisting himself. Rough and fast. And it feels fucking glorious. Oh god it feels like heaven. Paradise. His nirvana. Which was quite ironic because his ears pick up shreds of the band’s melody currently playing. It motivates him to keep going. He tries to match his movements to the rhythm, only to fail miserably because it feels way too slow for him.

“Urgh”, he growls and speeds up again, “fuck, ah fuck. please don’t stop.”

He has no idea who he is talking to. It is not like he is going to stop. Maybe he is so into begging and whining for his pleasure that it has become a part of him. Maybe the begging in itself gets him off. Oh it must be this, Jungkook thinks as he convulses aggressively in a blissful reaction to squeaking out a beg.

“Please”, he continues begging, voice pitched and weak, “please, please, please.”

He thrusts his fist into himself harshly and deeply. He fucks back needily and quickly. He begs desperately and loudly. And he swears he could cry because of it.

Maybe he does. Maybe he cries. And maybe he bites down on his own arm again, senses going hazy at the taste of his own blood. He feels like such a fucking sinner, getting off on his own blood, but he can’t help it. He can’t help begging and moaning and fucking getting off on his own taste.

Jungkook sucks hungrily, covering his throat with the sweetness of his blood. It fills his veins with fiery electricity, crawling down his body until it reaches his middle.

“Ah!” Jungkook breaks away just to scream. His cock throbs uncontrollably, his ass is convulsing around his fist, “oh fuck, oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck”, Jungkook wails, knowing that it is too late.

He did too much. The blood was too much. Jungkook is falling and he can’t catch himself.

His body convulses and falls down. His weight squishes his cock, forcing it cum even harder than it initially wanted to cum. He is shaking and twitching, kicking the floor and trying his hardest to somehow fuck his hips back.

“Oh god please”, he sobs, voice contorted in his orgasm and face scrunched in pleasure.

Was this a planned orgasm? No. No it wasn’t. Does this still feel like his own personal heaven? Yes. Yes it does.

Jungkook thanks himself repeatedly, wiggling his fist because that is all he can truly do because of how tight is getting, “thank you, ah thank you. Thank you.”

This is the best thing ever.

When Jungkook comes down, he realises that he actually managed to kick a hole into the floor. He wiggles his foot out of it, growing completely limp again. He can barely even breathe, cheek lying in a puddle of his tears and blood-soaked drool. He doesn’t want to change its position. His ass is pulsating around his fist in the aftershocks of his high. It hurts a little now that all the sexual tension left his body. Jungkook tries to pull his fist free, whimpering painfully and squeezing his eyes shut. Come on, one more pull. He can do it even if he is sensitive. His fist leaves him with a wet, sticky sound, leaving his hole to gape around nothing. He exhales shakily, trying to clench it to get it to close up again. It works, but the phantom feeling of his fist still remains. Each time his skin pulsates, it feels as if his hand was still inside, turning Jungkook weak.

He wants to be held. Jungkook whimpers sadly, lower lip beginning to tremble. He really wants to be held right now.

He feels so weak and defeated and fragile. And all he needs is to be held. He rolls onto his side and pulls his legs to his chest. A small sob escapes him as he hugs his knees.

“Oh god”, he whimpers. He is coming down hard. This always happens. Why does he always come down so hard? His heart aches so much and he feels so disgusting and as if he did something wrong. Why does this always happen? Why does this always fucking happen?

Jungkook pulls himself up even if it is hard. He stumbles to the bathroom with his head barely being present. He washes himself in hopes that this would lessen the drop. His cock, his ass, his hands, even his face. Nothing really helps.

He wants to be held and it aches so much that he isn’t.

Jungkook rips the ropes from his legs, hoping that the release of pressure would help him calm down. It only makes it worse because now he feels naked and vulnerable.

He barely manages to put on his boxer shorts and manages even less to stumble out of his bedroom.

He wants to be held. He needs comfort. Jungkook needs to be held.

Jungkook arrives at his destination with his legs barely working and his heart feeling shattered. He knocks quietly, hoping that he will be heard.

“Come in”, the answer is instant, filling Jungkook with so much hope.

He opens the door and slips inside. 

Yoongi is sitting by his desk in candlelight, very clearly working on lyrics. The guitar is next to him, leaned against the table and waiting to be used again.

He has his gaze lifted from the notebook, waiting patiently for Jungkook to speak even if there is worry in his eyes.

“Hyung”, Jungkook whispers, shivering like crazy.

Yoongi lets his eyes run up and down Jungkook’s body. Oversized jumper, boxer shorts and thighs covered in rope marks. He looks up at Jungkook’s face and the aching yearning in his sad eyes. With one single intake of breath, he knows exactly what’s up. 

“Come here, kiddo”, he speaks softly, rolling his chair back and patting his lap. 

Jungkook hurries to him and lets himself fall on top of him, face hiding away in the crook of Yoongi’s neck and arms wrapping around him tightly. He feels safer instantly, body growing soft in comfort. Yoongi smells so good. Like hugs and love. 

Yoongi rolls back closer to the desk to continue working, keeping himself connected with Jungkook by running his left hand up and down his lower back. He decided to slip his hand under his hoodie for that and Jungkook is grateful that he did, because Yoongi’s unfiltered touch is healing him like nothing else.

“Did you have fun, mhm?” Yoongi asks him in a soft voice.

Jungkook nods his head.

“That’s good to hear”, Yoongi says, turning his head to kiss the shell of Jungkook’s ear, “my good boy.”

Jungkook swears he feels no ounce of shame, guilt or pain right now. Just peace and happiness.

Yoongi turns away afterwards, chin coming to rest on Jungkook’s shoulder and hand continuously rubbing his back. No further words are exchanged between the two vampires, but that wasn’t necessary. Yoongi understands without needing words and Jungkook feels understood without having to hear it. 

Jungkook listens with closed eyes. The pen Yoongi uses makes a soft scratching sound on his notebook, every now and then Yoongi mumbles unidentifiable words and sometimes a glass gets lifted and Jungkook can hear Yoongi swallow before the glass gets set down again. All of those sounds are relaxing him so much. It was the right decision to seek out Yoongi. Jungkook wouldn’t feel even remotely as safe and comforted and taken care of as he does right now, if he was still alone in his room.

Jungkook finally allows his body to grow limp in relaxation, sighing happily. He knows that it’s safe to fall asleep if he feels like it. Yoongi will carry him to bed and make sure he is tugged in, just as he will always make sure that he is safe. Jungkook smiles and then his senses blur as sleepiness overtakes him.

#jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenario #jungkook oneshot #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #sub!jungkook #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts scenario #bts oneshot #bts x reader #bts x you #bangtan smut #bangtan fanfic #bangtan scenario #fanfic: kinktober22 #fanfic: sanguis duology

[frannyzooey]

In The Dark: Epilogue

Pairing: Ezra x f!reader

Rating: None

A/N: We are finally at the end of this story - thank you to every single person who read it, who supported it, who sent in asks or reblogged or liked or lurked. I couldn’t have done it without you all. Dedications at the end, along with some bonus extras. Thank you all so very much - I love you, and Happy New Year!

Series Masterlist

--

EIGHT MONTHS LATER

“So, how is the new place going?” You rest your cheek on your knee, smiling at the immediate change in her expression on your screen. Your dorm room is behind you, warm and cozy in contrast to the starkness of her bedroom. 

“It’s okay,” Cee says. “It’s still kinda weird, ya know? Living with different people?” She shrugs, resting her chin in her hand. “It’s kinda cool, since they’re my own age and sometimes we have these amazing parties and there is this girl who is moving in next week who I am totally eyeing, but also the extra chores suck? No one ever does their dishes around here.”

You nod in sympathy, having been in that situation before. 

“I feel like it’s not that hard?” she continues, and you laugh. 

“It’s really not. How is that new class coming?”

Rolling her eyes, she launches into detail about her writing professor and the pain of her weekly workshop group and you feel a pang of longing to experience those things with her, so you could truly commensurate. Not that you couldn’t, since you were going through those specific pains in your own program right now, but it was different then - when you were going through it together. 

“Anyway, it’ll get better. I don’t wanna talk about it though.” She sits back, piling her fine blond hair on top of her head in a bun cupped by her hands for a moment, before letting it drop. “Tell me about next week. What are you doing again? How long are you off for?”

“Two weeks.” Just saying the words out loud makes you grin in relish, an eagerness for it to begin coming through in the dreamy tone of your voice. “I wanna see all the cheesy tourist spots for sure, but I am literally itching to get into some of those bookstores. And the museums, definitely those. And oh my god, the food.”

Shoreditch had all of these things and you had slowly been exploring them, but the vastness of London had been calling to you. Your workload too heavy to explore the way you’ve wanted to, you’ve been earmarking various spots for months and now that your break is finally here, you feel like you can truly tour around. And also look up from the screen of your laptop for a change - that would be nice.

You let out an aching groan of pleasure at the thought and she smiles on the screen. 

“After that, I don’t know? Don’t laugh, but I kinda wanna rent a car and drive to Cornwall? Don’t ask me about navigating while driving on the other side of the road because I don’t have an answer for you, but the views are supposed to be gorgeous and……”

“Poldark,” you both say at the same time, dissolving into giggles.

“God he’s gorgeous. I mean, I know he’s not there, but I’ll be able to sense him. I just know it.”

She sips her tea on her side of the screen while you list off the rest of your itinerary: Persephone Books, for their quaint, romantic store front and unique events, Dishoom for a bacon naan roll and to feel like you’ve stepped back into time into 1940’s Bombay, The London Eye to get some pictures, but first Gloria: a restaurant by your new place that you’ve been dying to try. You just knew the pictures online wouldn’t do it justice; the opulent, busy, lush setting of rich carpets and mirror paneled walls and greenery climbing down from the ceiling like sparkling, light strung ivy at the top of your wishlist. 

Eventually, your stifled yawns interrupt your spoken dreams, and she finishes her tea, stretching in her perch on her chair. She glances at the time in the corner of her screen and frowns. 

“Yikes, it’s gotta be so late there for you. You better get some sleep, so you’re not exhausted in the morning..”

You mirror her stretch, nodding. “Yea, I still gotta finish packing.” 

She leans closer to the screen, a look of affection stealing across her delicate features. 

“Well make sure you take a bunch of pictures, okay? I wanna see everything you’re seeing. Send me the view from the Eye on Snapchat or something and if you go see those guards, take a selfie with one of them just for me.”

You laugh, assuring her that you will and when you say your goodbyes and hang up, a smile lingers on your face. Just like her to ask for something weird like that. 

Standing, you close your laptop and leave it on your desk, walking over to your bed. The layout of your new place is tighter than the last; student housing always a bit cramped. You’ve never minded close quarters, liking the overall coziness it forces and resting your hand on the corner of a small bookshelf that already has a substantial collection growing on it, you crack the window, letting street sounds waft in on the night air. 

Changing into your pajamas, you switch out the light while yawning yet again and checking your alarm is set, you crawl into bed. Opening your white noise app, you select “city sounds” and closing your eyes, quickly fall asleep. 

–

Anticipation wakes you early, and similar to New York City, Shoreditch is alive with people already when you leave your flat. Stepping out onto the sidewalk, you slip into the crowd, making your way to the tube and as you walk, you run through a mental checklist of everything you want to do today, so as to not waste one minute. 

Not quite as many people on these streets as there had been in the city, the sights and sounds were so similar it was comforting: brightly scrawled murals over aged brick, trendy restaurants tucked into small store fronts, young people walking effortlessly down the sidewalk with their faces buried in their phones. Spotting the iconic circular sign that gave you a thrill when you saw it for the first time, you made your way down the damp stairwell, following the crowd to the platform. Getting on your train, you find a seat by the window and digging in your bag, you fish your earbuds and pull up a playlist, relaxing into your seat. 

The steady, smooth rock of the train as it pulls away from the station comforts you, reminding you of home after all this time. The transit systems are similar, the people that ride them even more so and watching scenery pass by, you think about your first time navigating The Underground. The thought, and the events planned for this morning, bring forth other memories. 

Your first night crawling into your new bed: slipping on the shirt he tucked into your bag, the longing for your apartment and all its familiar noises was a real, tangible ache in your chest. The ache for him was felt even deeper, the image of his face as he said goodbye only ten hours old and fresh in your mind at that point. A few tears slipped free into that new pillow of yours; the first of what would be many more. 

Your first weeks navigating your new surroundings: testing out the transit, finding your new travel paths, exploring the restaurants within walking distance.

The nervous hesitation you felt when sharing in your new workshop for the first time, the tiny tables in new restaurants where you sat alone on your computer, your delight at the discovery of East African food. 

Tea: something you never came around to. By your measure, it had nothing on coffee and for weeks, you would have killed for a latte from your favorite place, with a dash of cinnamon on the top. 

All the while, you had missed him. 

Your new surroundings had been seen through Ezra tinted glasses; a wash of him over everything you saw. Everything reminded you of him: the antique shop on the corner, the Persian restaurant you passed while walking to class, every bookstore or record shop or furniture gallery or men’s clothing shop or every dark haired man, your eyes searching for his confident gait everywhere.

At first, it was so intense you couldn’t hardly breathe, but with time, it lessened. Friends, routine, school, new experiences, dinners, parties. You still thought of him often, but it was no longer the crushing weight of a wave forcing you under. With each new day that passed, the waves calmed more and more; overwhelming, then bearable, then ripples that came and went.

Cee had eventually come around, writing you an email about your letter about a month after you left. When you replied, she replied back and it slowly evolved into more emails and then texts and then FaceTime, on your computer at night. She had reached out to you for writing advice, wanting your opinion on something she was going to turn in and it was like her story was an olive branch — which was fitting, for two people who first bonded over the words scribbled in her notebook. 

The two of you never had a formal discussion about what happened, but rather an acknowledgment through email about the roles you each played. Understanding that sometimes it was easier to talk about difficult things through writing versus speaking them out loud, you were thankful for it. She needed time to think about it, which you gave her, and in the end, she forgave you. 

Still, you never spoke directly about Ezra if you could help it. 

Four months into your new surroundings, you had just walked in the door after a late night library session when your phone buzzed in your bag. Pulling it out, the sight of his name on your screen made you freeze. You can still feel the heat you felt, your heart picking up as you hesitantly tamped down the excitement that immediately rose in your chest and when you answered it, he could hear it all in your voice. 

“Hello?”

“Hey, Birdie.” 

He said those two words, letting the silence hang for a moment and you were immediately back in your apartment, the memory of when he used to call felt so strongly you shut your eyes.

He had been drunk and lonely, missing you. Trying so hard to keep his distance for your sake, he finally caved and called; his low, husky voice sleepy and quiet through the phone, but warm with affection. You talked to him for a long time: about the city, about your program, about what he had been up to. When it came time to hang up, he asked if he could call you again and when you said yes, you could hear the smile in his voice when he said goodbye. 

He did call you after that, and you stayed in touch a lot. It wasn’t as intense as it was before — no phone call every night before bed, no FaceTime videos, no partially undressed photos — but rather an easy intimacy between two really good friends. Ones who knew each other inside out, and had fond memories of the time they’d shared together. 

Not to say that you didn’t get yourself off to the thought of him still, after all this time. 

You tried going out and meeting people, tried going home with someone a few times but after you slipped back into your clothes and made your way home, you never felt that longing to be back in their bed and in their arms the way you always felt with him. Eventually, you stopped trying and just focused on school. 

The train slows and pulls into King’s Cross, and you rise from your seat, waiting your turn to alight. Stepping off, you make your way to the escalators and a sort of nervous anticipation thrums wildly through your veins, making your limbs jittery. You try to take a calming breath, checking the time on your phone - your train running a few minutes behind, you hope you’re not too late.

Finally stepping into the atrium, light floods the space. People are everywhere: gathered in clusters as they check maps in their hand with suitcases and backpacks at their feet, business people walking briskly around and between them, travelers and students and children and shop vendors; the murmur of the collective crowd a loud one. Your heart beats faster in your chest, your eyes scanning the room and they land on one person after another, trying to keep track as they move. A bright flash of yellow there, a brown mop of curls there and suddenly, you see him. 

The familiar breadth of his shoulders faces you, a backpack that you’ve never seen before only serving to make him look broader. For how long it’s been since you’ve seen the nape of his neck, you’d recognize his stance anywhere and you simultaneously want to stand there for a moment and admire him from afar, while also fighting the urge to run. 

Not being able to help moving automatically in his direction, when he turns and his gaze catches yours, he grins and you feel a sudden wave of emotion so strong you want to cry. He looks just the same - the unruly dark curls, the crumpled cotton t-shirt even more so from traveling, the face you know so well and that dimple. It had only just started to fade from your memory, and the sight of it makes your heart burst. 

“Hey, Birdie,” he smiles when you reach him, opening his arms and you step right into them, like no time has passed. 

So solid, so strong, so affirming in his touch - your hello is muffled against his shoulder as you breathe in the familiar musk of his warm skin and when you pull back, you can already see the possibilities of these next two weeks in his warm, albeit travel worn smile: his laughter in a dimly lit restaurant, the weight of his arm across your shoulders when he pulls you in for a selfie, his profile as you drive through the country, the firm slide of his skin against yours every one of those nights. 

He looks like he wants to kiss you and your mouth longs for the same, but you both stand still, savoring the beat of anticipation; the crowd moving around you. 

“You ready?” you ask, lacing your fingers with his. 

He tightens his hold, grinning. 

“Ready.”

The End 

--

Bonus: Birdie’s Travel Pictures 

I have so many people I want to thank for this story:

@mourningbirds1​, first and foremost, who sat with me through every single one of these chapters and who is the world’s best and most patient teacher. You made my writing better with every single soothing message you sent, every comment you left on the document, every lesson you taught me in your kind and patient way. This story wouldn’t be nearly what it is without you, nor would I have had the courage to tackle it in the first place without your constant validation and support and I love you so very, very much. Having one of your favorite writers as a mentor is the literal dream come true, and you did that for me. <3

@krissology​ and @charnelhouse​ - without our group chat and your constant support, I wouldn’t have made it through this. You both inspire me in so many ways every single day, and you’re always there when I need to rant, vent, work out a plot line, hash out an idea, and I am so grateful to have both of you in my life. I love you <3

@highsviolets​ @imaswellkid​ @dazedrhapsody​ and @psychedelic-ink​ - thank you so so much for your constant enthusiasm and your magnificent playlists for this story. They inspired me in so many ways - a number of scenes in this story were directly inspired by your songs, dreamt of while I was working or driving, and I am forever thankful for you sharing them with me. They are beautiful, just like you all. I love you <3

To anyone that made art, to anyone that sent me a message, to anyone who was patient and kind and validating while I tried to take my time and try new things and grow - thank you. I couldn’t have done it without you all, and this community. I love you <3

#ezra prospect #ezra prospect/you #ezra prospect/reader #ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect x you #pedro pascal

[ranposbabe]

Delightful | William James Moriarty x Reader

Chapter One

“Ugh.” You groan, arm hanging off the rather small and rather falling apart sofa.

The rather small couch was usually more comfortable than this but then again you can’t recall the last time you slept on the couch instead of your own bed. Ah yes.

It slowly but surely was coming back to you. How you the previous night had gone out and found yourself drinking more than the average intake and then when you crawled your way back to your neglected apartment, you could barely find it in yourself to crawl to the puny bedroom. So here you lay some hours later with your clothes tossed about and your neck painfully stiff.

Taking a blind turn, suddenly you slip off the couch and fall flat onto the floor but of course not before smacking your head off the coffee table. “Ah !” You scream.

“Fucking bastard.” You groan, shakingly pulling yourself off the floor.

Squinting your eyes at the floor noticing your phone that was somehow not smashed to bits. Picking it up you see how the battery reads. One percent.

Just then. The screen goes black. Dead.

“Typical.” You scoff, heading to plug the but just then you froze. The charger-oh wait..the charger that was currently broken and not working.

“You know what ? Fuck you I don’t need you.” You sneer at the phone, throwing it onto the couch before making your way to the bedroom while of course tripping on last week’s laundry clothes on the way.

You can’t help but sigh at the scene.

An unmade bed that you said you’d make two days ago still remains untouched.

Pulling out a pair of grey sweatpants along with a plain black jumper from the cluster of clothing, you dress and before slipping by you catch yourself in the reflection.

A small but present bruise forming on the top left side of your forehead. Fantastic.

Time Skip.

The town’s busy streets remains packed and slightly chaotic. Many people gather round the local markets eager to see what awaits whether it be clothing or hand made crafts. Something you purposely came to see. “I should’ve brought a jacket.” You wince at the cool breeze as it passed by. By the sight of the orange sky It had already seemed to have become late afternoon and yet the town showed no sight of slowing down.

Almost sleepily like walking, someone roughly pushes by, hitting against your shoulder. You halt, turning your head slightly to eye the man.

“Tch !” The man grunts. “Watch where you’re headed !” At that the idiot scurries off.

“You watch where you’re going !” You call back, rolling your eyes at the unaware bloke. “Dickhead.” You mutter, picking up your pace.

But just then you suddenly stop . Just down the road, exactly straight ahead from you were a museum that you had once heard off but had never actually thought to visit. Whether it’d be due to hangovers or not that didn’t matter now.

Maybe you should-

“Head in.”

You gasp at the unexpected voice. Turing around to detect the unfamiliar tone you spot an elderly woman, by your guess possibly in her mid seventies and who was quite short, standing behind a market stand. You can’t help but note that she’s on her own.

Your brows raise in confusion and yet this seems to amuse the woman. “You were eyeing that ol’ museum weren’t you, little lady ?” The old woman smiles but yet it doesn’t look natural as despite her age, no smile lines where present. How-

“Odd.” She states, slowly but surely, making her way around the stand. “You should go on and have a little look in there.” She points with her index finger that was littered in rings. “You’ll never know what you’ll discover.” She nods.

“I…see.” You frown, slightly at a loss for words. Who is this-

“Woman.” The elderly woman barks with a stern tone.

Your eyes widen at her change. “You ought to go there now.. before you’re stuck.” Without another word, you head straight on down to the museum, without daring to look back.

Your steps echoed off the marble ground as you shyly walked closer to the grand painting. Out of all the paintings present in the secluded area you found yourself in, you couldn’t help but be attracted to this particular piece. Perhaps the fact that it was the largest painting in the room didn’t help. Every step you took closer you couldn’t help but take in every detail. Despite the signature being clear as day it was hard to pinpoint the year.

You could assume it was Victorian era due to the gloomy London like landscape.

“Fascinating isn’t it ?” A quiet voice spoke.

Your head snapped to the right at the unfamiliar voice. There stood a man who was awfully close to you considering he’s a stranger. He stood rather tall, furrowed brows with inhumanly dark eyes staring down at your confused state. The man also appeared dressed well as your curious eyes eyed him from head to toe. The man wore a dark indigo suit.

Your brows furrow in sudden irritation.

“Who the hell are yo-

“Wouldn’t it be delightful to just go there and leave this exhausting life of ours ?” The man questions, not hesitating to cut you off. “I suppose.” You mutter, turning around to suddenly note that the museum was suddenly abandoned. No one in sight.

Except for you and this odd fellow.

“You suppose ?” He grins.

“How delightful.”

“Assuming you’re referring to time travel or what not, I wouldn’t be mad going back to the seventies, I suppose everything was flares and all but couldn’t be all that bad could it ?” You chuckle. You’re not sure why now you felt the need to state it but yet it’s not as if you were the one to suddenly start the rather unusual conversation. You look around, expecting to face the man and yet like everyone, he’s no where to be found. “What the fuck ?” You mutter, raising a brow.

“Ma’am.” You hear from the right. Looking over you see a security guard not far looking rather agitated. “The museum closes in five minutes.” “Oh.” You sigh. You were barely here. You couldn’t help but think this was your “lesson” for having too much to drink as of last night. Or the last few weeks. “Apologies, sir.” You sincerely state, already taking your leave.

“I’ve gotta head home.” You moan, wrapping your arms around yourself as you sluggishly make your way back. Yet, whether you’d be hungover or not, you fail to notice the lurking presence just stood a few feet away.

“And home you shall.”

#x reader #reader insert #anime and manga #william james moriarty x reader #william james moriarty #william moriarty #moriarty the patriot x reader #moriarty the patriot #yuukuko no moriarty #sebastian moran #fred porlock #albert james moriarty #louis james moriarty #sherlock holmes #yuukuko no moriarty x reader #mtp x reader #mtp william

[analogwriting]

Childhood Crush

Chapter 12: Stainless

Killer x gn!reader word count: 3.7k a/n: I'M ALIIIIIIVE. anyway, this is a honker and kind of a catch all bc it's gloss over timeskip stuff. i can't tell you how many times i wrote the last part tho sdlkfj next

Settling in was so much easier than you thought it was going to be. You moved into the spare bedroom at Myra’s, Lily excitedly helping you unpack - and by unpack, she just took your things out and went through your stuff before setting it on the ground to grab the next thing to look at.

You didn’t mind though. Going from a rowdy ship to just a house with two other people was definitely a big change - so you welcomed the noise. You just listened as she idly chatted about nothing as kids typically did. It reminded you of your brother when he was younger. He would constantly talk about nothing for hours on end.

There was one day that he talked about Victoria for about four hours. It was a fond memory you had because of the relentless teasing, but it’s long since turned bittersweet because of her untimely demise. 

You didn’t just listen to your brother’s ramblings - since the boys were always at the house, you heard all of them ramble about something at one point or another. Still to this day, actually. Before everything had went downhill, Heat had come into your lab and started talking about a group of cats he had seen on the island you had all stopped at. He told you about how he had given each of them names and what they looked like. How they all even had their own personalities. 

It was rather adorable, honestly. They all still would come to your lab and drone on about something they had seen or just wanted to share with you. Like an excited child telling their parent. Then, usually, you told Killer when the both of you would be making dinner.

Thinking about those things, you were already missing them. You felt terrible with the way you left things off. You wished you could have gone back and just…not have shut down like you did but…it was too late now. 

Settling into work also went pretty smoothly. Everyone was incredibly nice - which it probably helped that Myra was the one that introduced you to everything. She was the head of the island, after all.

You had your own office space, which somewhat ended up as the Kid Pirates Museum. Your space was filled with different newspaper clippings. It didn’t matter who it was or if it was good or bad, all of it went on the walls. You were so proud of your brother for coming so far and making a name for himself.

However, you were worried about him. He seemed to be growing a bit reckless in his endeavors. He was going to end up biting off more than he could chew and that worried you. They all told you not to die on them, but really they needed to not die on you. You honestly wouldn’t forgive them. You already told yourself that you’d figure out a way to bring them back and then kill them yourself. 

It was only fair.

Eventually, you created something that improved your own life significantly. It seemed like a simple arm band that you had around your bicep. It connected with your nerves and you were able to gain full functionality of your arm again. It was something you had worked on the side for a while and now - it was complete.

With the full movements and feeling in your arm back, you started to train at the facility. You wanted to be able to regain your ability to fight. You wanted to be able to protect those you cared about once more. You wanted to feel useful again. You knew, logically, that there was plenty you could do even with your bum arm. You even proved that yourself time and time again, but it was just something that your head couldn’t wrap around.

If it had happened to anyone else, you would’ve told them what your brother and his friends told you. That it was okay, there was plenty of other things. Hell, you probably could’ve even learned how to fight with one arm. You heard that Shanks only had one arm and he fought just fine.

Though, he was a completely different ballgame than you. He didn’t count.

To test out your newly regained ability, you started to go out on field missions. There was a group of combat trained scientists that would sail out to various islands to gather materials and/or research. Some traveled far, some didn’t. You were with the latter. You stayed close to the island, you didn’t want anything that would take up too much time considering that you eventually wanted to go and find your brother again.

You proved to be able to hold your own once more. Fighting became a breeze to you once more, easily taking out several people in one go. Just as you used to be able to. 

When you returned from your most recent voyage, Lily and Myra greeted you at the dock. Lily ran up to you, immediately jumping in your arms. You laughed, holding her. “I missed you!” You grinned. “Missed you too, kiddo.” Fuck, it was going to suck when you had to leave for good.

Myra seemed to be pensive. There was a look of worry in her face. “What’s wrong, My?” you asked, setting Lily down as you walked over to her. She smiled, shaking her head. “We’ll talk later.” You narrowed your eyes at her. Something was wrong and you knew it. You left it for now, assuming that she didn’t want to talk about whatever it was in front of her daughter.

You decided not to pry, instead engaging in whatever Lily was prattling on about as you walked towards your temporary home with the two. You caught them up on your most recent mission and they caught you up on what you missed on the island - which wasn’t exactly much.

The entire day, Myra seemed on edge. Sure, she laughed and joked like normal, but you had a knack for reading people. You knew something was up, but you never said anything. At least not while Lily was awake.

Currently, it was after dinner and you were sitting on the couch, Lily fast asleep in your lap. Myra was sitting in an armchair adjacent to the couch. “So, you going to tell me what’s going on, My?” You looked at her and she seemed to stiffen. She looked at you for a moment before glancing down at Lily. She sighed softly, pulling a newspaper from the inside of her coat.

“Read this.” 

With a scrunch of your eyebrows, you took the paper, careful not to wake the little one. You read the headline and your heart immediately sank. You felt your blood run cold. Your brother had lost to Shanks and seemed to sustain grave, life threatening injuries. Panic began to rise in your chest as your grip on the paper tightened.

You felt yourself relax once you reached the end of the article. Eustass was in stable condition, going back to his usual antics. However, you did notice something. “He fucking lost his arm?” You stared at the paper before you started falling into silent laughter - mostly so you didn’t wake up Lily.

Myra looked at you - completely startled by your reaction. “I- Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. That’s just funny.” She looked at you like you had grown an extra head.

You set the paper down, looking at Myra. “I mean, he lost his arm and temporarily, so did I. Technically, without the bracelet, I still don’t have a fully functioning arm.” You chuckled. “Guess having two arms doesn’t run in the family. But at least between the two of us we have one good pair of arms.” Honestly, it was hysterical. 

“Oh man, I wonder which one it is. Because it would be so funny if it was the opposite of mine. Then we really do only have one good pair of arms.” You slowly calmed down, your laughter dying down as well. You took a deep breath. 

“I thought you’d be more upset,” Myra said slowly, still unsure how to gauge your reaction. You looked at her with a small smile. “Well, my brother is strong and can hold his own. Especially if his crew is with him. He’s going to be just fine. The article said he was stable and sailing again, so I’m sure he’s going to heal up just fine.” Sure, you were still worried about him.

“However.” Your face soured. “I am absolutely going to tear him a new one for fighting Shanks. I love my brother, yes, but that was the dumbest fucking move he could’ve made. He’s nowhere near ready to fight him.” What you wanted to know was why he tried to fight him. Did it just end up happening? Or did he seek him out? You had so many questions swimming through your head.

Myra let out a small laugh and you looked over at her. “Guess I was stressed about nothing. I was worried that the news would upset you.”

“Eh. My brother and I have been through our fair share of shit - I know him well enough to know he’ll be just fine.” Your expression changed to a deadpan one. “Until I get to him, I tell ya. I’m going to kick his ass.”

After that, you two fell back into normal conversation, eventually turning in for the night.

--

“You’re telling me I have to do fucking what?” 

Myra winced at your word choice. She still wasn’t accustomed to you cursing despite having lived with her the last year or so. You did well to not swear in front of Lily and other children, but adults were free game. You were a pirate, after all. Those words didn’t really hold meaning to you.

“You’re the only one fit for the job, y/n.”

You just stare at her from the chair you’re in. You’re currently in her office, her having called you in. There was apparently some really important plant they needed for some breakthrough but getting it was next to impossible. 

“You’re asking me to go on a suicide mission, Myra.” 

She sighed, shaking her head. “I think you’re more than capable. Besides, if you decide it’s too much, you can come back.”

“Can’t come back if I’m head.”

“Oh, come on.”

“No, you come on.” You groaned, putting your face in your hands. Were you ready for a mission like this? It was risky, but deep down, you knew you could do it.

“Besides, I heard your brother was last seen somewhere over there, so you can just send the flower back to us and go with your brother.” You looked at her, blinking. Eustass? 

“Eustass is around there?”

Myra nodded. “We all know that this place is not your home, y/n. You were going to go back eventually. It’s probably time.”

“Kicking me out?” You smirked and she rolled her eyes. “Oh shut it. You know what I mean.”

You laugh, sighing after a bit. “Fine. I’ll do it.” She grinned, nodding. “Good.”

Hoo boy, nothing could’ve prepared you for what you’d end up discovering, however.

--

“I got you something, y/n.” You looked up from checking your inventory. You were currently on the dock, getting things ready for departure. “It’s from me, too!” Lily chimed from beside her, holding up a box. You blinked, tucking your clipboard under your arm and taking the box.

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” you said with a small laugh.

“We know, but we wanted you to have something to remember us by,” Myra said with a small smile. She was never one to express large emotions. Quite the opposite of her own child who was currently beaming ear to ear. 

“You act like I’m never going to come back.” You shake your head as you open the box, missing the sad look on Myra’s face. 

When you open the box, you’re taken aback. You figured it would be some kind of book or something for taking notes, but it wasn’t anything studious at all. It was a large knife, like the one your crew had gifted to you. You carefully took it out of the box, admiring it. “Oh wow…”

It was a lot like the one you had already, only instead of the Kid Pirates’ jolly roger on it, it had the lab’s emblem on it. A soft, fond smile spread across your face and you felt tears welling up in your eyes.

“Y/n! Do you not like it?” Lily frowned, looking up at you. “We didn’t mean to make you cry!” You looked at Lily and laughed softly, shaking your head, ruffling her hair. “No, no. I love it. I’m just happy.” You attached it to your belt on the opposite side before picking up Lily and hugging her tightly. “Thanks, kiddo.”

Lily laughed and hugged you tightly. You looked at Myra over her shoulder and smiled. “Thank you, too, Myra.” The scientist just nodded, her own sad smile on her face. There was something she seemed to know that she wasn’t telling you, but you were going to leave it be for now.

--

Nothing about this mission was going to be easy. Get in Wano - already hard enough. Blend in - could be easy, could be hard. Somehow sneak into fucking Kaido’s castle - practically impossible. Get the flower - depending on where it is, could be impossible. Send it back or come back - that part could be easy.

You have no idea why you let Myra talk you into this, but you ended up agreeing to it. Saying goodbye fucking sucked. Since this was possibly the last time you would see anyone for a long time, it was a hard goodbye. Lily almost broke your heart in two when you said goodbye. She didn’t want you to leave in the slightest. You were like another parent to her now. You told her that you’d come see her again - that you’d write and call when you could.

This whole island was like your second family, but Myra was right. It was home to go home. You missed everyone. Not a day went by that you didn’t think about them.

You also had some unfinished business with a certain someone. You had some hands to throw.

Getting into Wano was pretty difficult, but you persisted. Going upstream was absolutely insane. Everything settled down after that. It completely wiped you out, trying to navigate all that. You narrowly avoided a whirlpool. Next thing you knew, you were on a beach.

You hid your boat, knowing that the people of Wano didn’t really take visitors. Which brought you to your next issue. Blending in. You made sure to keep hidden for the most part. After all, you stuck out like a sore thumb. You did at the lab too, but they didn’t care as much. It’s not like you were trying to blend in there.

You reached a small village, quickly spotting some clothes on a clothesline. Wasting no time, you snagged them off the line and changed. After, you continued forward, eventually ending up somewhere full of snow. Great. You were just glad that the clothes you had come across had a cloak that came with a hood and a mask you would wrap around the lower half of your face. 

How much more lost could you get? Why did you agree to this again? All for a flower? 

Ugh. Fuck.

It was cold - too cold. Snow began to fall and, soon enough, visibility was also shit. It was just warm not too long ago; what the hell was going on? And now you’re all turned around because everything looks the same due to the snow. You needed to find shelter - and soon. You didn’t realize you’d end up this lost in a winter hellscape or you would have prepared a bit better.

A sound suddenly tore through the air. It was enough to make you jump a bit. It sounded like some maniacal laugh from a bad guy - though a bit more haunting. It sent a shiver down your spine. Whatever the fuck that was - you wanted nothing to do with it. You were here for one thing and one thing only: that stupid fucking flower that you were really debating on whether or not it was worth it at this point.

As you were walking, you lost your footing, immediately taking a tumble and falling down some hillside. When your body decided to stop moving finally, after what was way too long and now you were way too cold, you found yourself in front of some woman and a child. They looked at you with fear in their eyes, both of them also sitting in the snow.

“Wh-” Before you could ask what was wrong, you felt someone behind you. You turned just in time to block the on coming attack with your own daggers. One from your brother and friends, the other from Myra. 

The assailant was a very large man with two very large scythes. Though, that’s not what startled you in the least. It was the cackle that erupted from him paired with the unnatural stretch of a hollow smile across his face. It sent a shiver down your spine.  That was definitely the laugh you heard - the one you wanted nothing to do with.

How the hell did you get into this situation again?

You pushed the swordsman off of you, sending him back a bit. “I’d get out of my way if I were you,” he warned. There was a familiar ring to his voice, but it was too distorted for you to place it. Besides, the damn guy wouldn’t really stop laughing either. That was also getting on your nerves. You already didn’t like the haunting sound of it.

You said nothing, only solidifying your stance to protect the woman and small child. You couldn’t help but be reminded of Myra and Lily when you saw them. “You guys get out of here,” you told them, glancing at them for a moment.

A moment too long because he used that to attack you. Your movements were delayed as you tried to block him again, only to fumble and he gave you quite the cut on your arm. If you lost another arm, you were going to lose it. Though, after pushing him back, you realized it just looked worse than it was. Nothing some clean up and stitches couldn’t help.

He seemed surprised that, even with your distraction, you were able to recover quite quickly. You ran at him this time, initiating an attack, surprising him further. You were able to knick him in the side and knock him backwards - you were on top of him, basically competing for strength at this point as you pressed your blades against his, trying to break his defense.

From this angle, you had a better look at his face. Or you would have had there not been bandages covering his features. His eyes though, they pierced right through your soul despite themselves looking soulless. They were a shade of blue that made them familiar, but the lack of life made it hard to pinpoint who it reminded you of. 

They did tell you everything you needed to know. This guy wasn’t in his right mind at all. Clearly some kind of brainwash of some kind. That didn’t explain the unnatural smile that didn’t reach the rest of his features, like his eyes, or the haunting and hollow cackle that erupted from him every once and a while.

Everything about this was weird.

Your thoughts were interrupted as he suddenly gained the upper hand. He had you pinned to the ground this time, his blade dangerously close to your neck. Fuck, you needed to out of this. You didn’t even want anything to do with this guy to begin with. He was clearly a level of unhinged that you didn’t want to mess with. With a quick glance around, you noticed the other two were gone. That was one less thing to worry about. It also didn’t help that your arm was currently throbbing from the laceration. Ugh.

You look back up at your assailant, noticing the look on his face seemed to change. Well, the look in his eyes. They faltered for a moment as they fell on your blade. The one your brother had gifted you. You used this moment to push him back, sending him off of you at least. It was, unfortunately, enough to knock him out of the trance it was in and he ran at you again.

What was that about? Why would your own knife make him falter like that? Though, his eyes lost that hollow look and…hold on. No fucking shot. There was no fucking shot that this was Killer. Contrary to his name, he wasn’t a complete mindless killing machine. He had least held some kind of emotion in his eyes, but…he also wasn’t really one to smile and laugh. Especially not like this.

Besides, your brother was nowhere to be found. This was just an uncanny valley and this was nothing more than a ghost - a glint of someone you missed. Nothing more.

But what if?

Fuck, now you wouldn’t be able to kill him even if you wanted to. Not with the possibility in your mind. After all, Myra did say your brother was reportedly in the area. But…what would Killer be doing here? Like that? Without Eustass? Ugh, your head was hurting from thinking about it.

The man in question was advancing on you once more and you solidified your stance - only to lose your footing and fall down yet another large hill. You descended rapidly, trying to stop yourself. You grabbed on to anything and everything, but nothing was strong enough to hold you or slow you down. 

When you reached the bottom, you groaned, slowly rolling over. You heard that laugh in the distance, echoing through the snow. Visibility was impossible at this point, so you had to make your escape now. You didn’t want to deal with the situation anymore. 

You stood up, heading off, finding a large log and crawling inside. You collapsed, completely winded. Your head was spinning and you felt yourself slowly losing consciousness. 

#idk if anyone reads tags but imma say it here #i wrote some angsty shit for these next parts so have fun #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x you #killer one piece #killer x reader #massacre soldier killer #am fics #cc

[anthemofgvf]

Endless Summer: Josh Kiszka x Reader Fanfiction

Part Six

description: you and sammy have been best friends since you were kids, and being around his family was the norm your entire life. when invited to a trip to their family lake house during the summer, you find yourself spending more time with his brother than your best friend. and, one thing has been clear your entire friendship: brothers are off limits.

warnings for this series: alcohol and marijuana usage, explicit content (18+, minors dni), angst, swearing

word count: 8.8k

⊱ ━━━━.⋅ εïз ⋅.━━━━ ⊰

There had been a few days that had passed since the movie night, leading into a new week and less time to confess to Sam about you and Josh. You and him had come up with new ways to see each other in private, along with continuing the nightly routine visits and early morning wake-up calls. To say you were a bit relieved you would have to stop sneaking around would only be considered partially true, but hey, it would be nice to let Sam in on your biggest secret yet eventually.

Josh had even stayed in your room once or twice overnight, setting an alarm in the morning to leave you and reside in his quarters. If you never stirred from your sleep when the ringing of the alarm from his phone went off, he would just pepper your face with kisses and let you know that he would be running off to his own bedroom. Although neither of you wanted to separate, you had to for the obvious reasons.

You two were enamored with each other. It was most likely to do with the exciting jitters of a new relationship and exploring one another after years of being unable to do. Even if you had known him for so long, you were still finding new things out that surprised you.

With the past few days, you all found yourself redoing the kayak trip, but you staying in Sam's kayak the entire trip instead of stirring him on about Josh again. You four even went to the local shops and took Josh where you found his mala beads. There were even more there when you all came back, and he ended up buying another pair of them, along with a shirt you told him that you liked on him.

This specific day of the next week was spent lounging at the lake, talking carelessly with the boys about anything that popped into your head.

"Only about two weeks left now, huh?" Sam took a seat next to you on the rocks that lined the lake. You both watched Jake and Josh splash each other like kids, trying to dunk each other under the cool, salty water at least once or twice.

"Two weeks seems like such a long time, but I know it's going to pass by quickly." You whipped over to him with your lips pressed tightly together. "At least that doesn't mean the end of summer."

He nodded at your words with a hum, taking another glance at his brothers before returning his eyes to you. "It also means we have the rest of the summer to do whatever the hell we want. Maybe take that trip to Chicago that you wanted to go on."

An airy laugh exited through your nose as you remembered the night you and Sam spent together that pushed your plans with Josh back to the next day. "You suggested Detroit because Chicago is a 'bit far'."

He shook his head and shrugged with a light smirk. "But you said you wanted to go to Chicago. I'll take you there, but you're gonna have to fork over some gas money." He nudged your arm.

"Fine, but we're going to the art museum." You pointed your finger at him.

"Deal." He nodded satisfactorily.

You two continued watching his brothers scramble in the water, talking and laughing with each other. You rested your head on his shoulder, folding your arms around your legs that pressed to your chest and allowing him to wrap an arm around your shoulders. You took in a deep breath, exhaling it with a pleased sigh that life was where it seemed to be exactly where you wanted it to be. Seemed is the key word, because Sam still hadn't been informed about you and Josh. But you had crossed the long bridge to confirming your feelings with Josh, and so far, that was enough to satisfy you. But as the weeks grew shorter, you began to understand how frustrated you truly were that you had to keep it all a secret.

"Are you excited to go back home, see your family and stuff?" You raised your head from his shoulder.

He met your eyes with his lips twisted as he thought. "I mean, yeah, I miss them, but nothing beats this." He flung his unoccupied hand out to the crashing waters. "Do you say that because you miss your parents?"

"No, I say it because you're always away from your family. Of course, I miss my mom and dad, but I get to see them all the time. Whereas I barely get to see you anymore."

He clicked his tongue and pulled you back into his body that had your head resting back onto his shoulder, rubbing at your arm. "Believe me, I miss you a lot when I'm on tour. But, hey, it's worth it when we get to go do stuff like this. We haven't done a trip in forever together, and we were granted the entire summer just to do whatever we wanted together."

"Who knows, maybe I'll get sick of you by August." You giggled to yourself and felt him squeeze you lightly.

"Rest assured I'm already tired of you. Think I'm going to join my brothers, who I get to see all the time and always annoy me." He patted your arm and left you on the ground as he strode into the water. You laughed with an eyeroll, watching him swim over to his brothers and join them in their madness.

They all called your name, motioning you into the water without telling you what exactly they needed your attention for. You walked into the waters that cooled your sun-kissed skin and swam over to them with a slightly concerned expression.

"Need me to settle some sort of dispute?"

"Quite the contrary, y/n," Josh brought his finger up as he wiggled his eyebrows at you, "we need your participation in a friendly game of chicken."

"Friendly is what you call that game? Sam can barely hold me up and I get dunked into the water every time." You chuckled and flicked your eyes over to Sam, who looked at you with a small, disapproving smile.

"I'm sorry you're not satisfied with your partner. I promise we'll win this time, alright? We can even switch it up a bit and I'll be the one to push you into the water."

To say you we slightly taken aback he would be fine with his brothers holding you on their shoulders was a small understatement, but it was for a "friendly game", so it didn't mean anything to him. That, you were thankful for. And it gave you an opportunity to get a bit close to Josh without causing any sort of suspicion.

"Alright, you're on. Save your strength - you'll need it." You pointed at him.

"Well, I'm not up to bat first." He shook his head with a laugh as he placed his hand over his heart. "Joshua is."

"You should take your own advice, y/n. You'll be eating your words shortly." He gave you a devilish smirk, followed with a wink, and pulled his brother to the shallower end of the lake that you all four would be able to stand in.

"You forget I have a height advantage, Josh." You said as Sam dove under the water to gain you access to throw your legs over his shoulders.

"He'll level the battlefield out for us, don't you worry, 'nervous nelly'." Josh reassured you with a toothy grin as he tapped Jake's shoulders to sink under the water.

Sam rose from the water and had his knees bent a little to keep the heights between you two relatively similar, and you let out an exasperated gasp at the name calling.

"Your first mistake was calling me that." You squealed as Jake gripped onto Josh's legs and holding him tightly on his shoulders whilst walking over to you and Sam.

"Am I making you mad?" He grinned at you.

"Alright, kids, on three." Jake began.

"If your tactic is to get under my skin, it's not working." You shook your head with a downturned smile plastered on your face.

"One." Jake dragged out slowly.

He sucked a breath of air through his teeth. "Seems like it is, y/n."

"Two."

"Not even a little bit, Josh." You glared at him playfully, beginning to raise your arms up in attack-mode.

"Three!" Jake launched himself forward and had Josh landing his hands into yours, both of you forcefully pushing each other back and forth.

You were a giggling mess trying to compose yourself. Sam had helped you fight against his brother, looking up to you and cheering you on.

"Stop going easy on me, come on. Use some of your strength." You teased at Josh.

He mouthed his next sentence to you. "You like force, huh? I'll take that note."

That caught you off guard, reserving to letting go off his hands and shoving his shoulders back. With your hard push, you had Jake stumbling back, but keeping his balance and walking back over to you as he forced Josh to launch his hands forward to land his hands on the sides of your shoulders.

"What was that for?" He struggled with you as you slapped your hands onto his arms and battled for the release of his grasp.

"Shut up." You laughed, teetering on Sam and tightening your grip around his head to lessen his ability to hear.

"What, are you going to make me?" He clicked his tongue and challenged you with a devious smirk.

"Thanks for telling me what you want." You nodded, pushing him back with all of your force and Sam helping you throwing Josh off as he rose to his full height. This had Jake shouting that the whole thing wasn't fair, and Josh falling into the water on his back. Sam tapped at your thighs and jumped lightly, exclaiming at your shared victory.

"Who's eating their words now?" Sam laughed at them. His reaction had Jake rolling his eyes, and Josh popping out of the water as he ran his hands back to smooth his hair.

"I demand a rematch!" Josh shot his finger up to the air. "This time, I'm not going easy on you."

"Alright, Josh." You said and waited for him to resituate himself back onto Jake's shoulders.

"This time, no cheating." He pointed at Sam, and Sam nodded. "On three."

"Hey, she wasn't going to win if-."

"Three!" Jake exclaimed and Josh had clamped his hands onto your shoulders and pushing you back. Sam had barely caught his footing, loosening his grip on you and having you fall into the water.

You sprung up to hear the twin's laughter, giving each other high fives.

"That was cheating." Sam pointed at the both of them with an annoyed grin.

"I didn't say I was going to count to three." Jake shrugged and tilted his body forward to allow Josh to slide off his body.

Josh popped out of the water in front of Sam. "You can take your frustrations out on y/n, though." He shot a glance up to you.

"Hey, I-."

Sam cut you off quickly. "Alright, I'll get onto Jake's shoulders then." He nodded and helped you off of his shoulders smoothly as you slid off from behind him.

You watched as Sam made his way over to Jake and telling him to go under, although Jake told him to give him a few seconds to readjust the muscles in his shoulders.

Josh looked at you with pure amusement. "A bit too easy to get him to allow me any access to you."

You rolled your eyes with a light giggle. "Because this is a friendly game, remember? Not the time to try and get too touchy with me, Joshua."

"Well," he brought his mouth closer to your ears, "it certainly won't be the first time I've been between your thighs."

You pushed his shoulders down, forcing him under the water and waiting for him to turn to give you access to throw your legs upon them. Once he did, he held your thighs tightly, raising up from the water and shaking his hair out of his face. He brought a hand off your plush thigh to wipe the water off his eyes and through his hair.

"What were you two whispering about?" Jake cocked his eyebrows at the both of you. He had kept his sly comments to himself the past few days, but now he chose to make a small one to throw you both off your A-game.

"Strategical tactics, brother. Sam won't last a second, I assure you."

"How much would you like to bet on that?" His lips curled into a smirk.

Sam began to speak. "Can we just-."

"A Jackson." Josh said to him with sheer confidence.

"Twenty? I'm not betting that much on a game. How about ten?"

"Playing it safe because you know Sam will lose, I see." He said, following with a knowing hum. "You got yourself a deal." Josh looked up to you with a wide grin. "Don't lose, alright?"

"Don't think I will." You patted his cheek, looking up to Sam and giving him a challenging look. "You ready?"

"Yeah, ready to shove your ass into the water." He raised his hands up and waited for his brother's countdown.

Once the number three escaped Jake's lips, Josh gripped tightly onto your thighs and pushed you forward with force. You and Sam intertwined your hands with each other, releasing light grunts due to using all the force you had in your body.

You both had fought with each other for quite some time, neither of you being able to overmatch each other's strengths. One of you was bound to give up eventually, but neither of you were prepared to do so.

You then remembered one trait about Sam that was considered a weakness in this situation: ticklish. He always was since you two were kids, especially in his armpits and the sides of his stomach. You began to run your mind through how you would swiftly move your hands to his sides without giving him the upper hand to push you down, so, you locked eyes with him and kept them there for a moment.

"Ready to give up yet?" He said to you with a light grunt.

"Not just yet Samuel." You spoke. He never really appreciated his full name in usage, so when it left your lips, it took him aback. You flew your hands to his sides and began wiggling and digging your fingers into the skin.

"Hey! That's not-." He tried pushing your fingers off of him, but his laughing fit had him unable to do so.

"Push him!" Josh yelled up to you. With a quick reaction, and Josh launching you forward, you pushed Sam's shoulders and had him landing on his back into the water.

Jake pushed your knee, causing Josh to lose his footing just a bit but being able to replant them on the ground in a firm position. Sam swam over to you and Josh and pulled at your ankles.

"I will be expecting my winning money soon." Josh looked over Sam's shoulders and to Jake, who flipped him off in return.

"You're gonna regret that, y/n." Sam looked up at you.

"Are you going to pull me down somehow?" You cocked your head to the side with folded arms.

"I will gladly help you with that." Josh said as his grip ran over his brother's hands and flung you back into the water.

You sprouted up and gave him a hard swat to his chest, only for him to burst into laughter. He just gave you a shrug, and you noticed Sam looking down at you with a light grin.

"You're a piece of shit for that." You pointed at Josh.

"Seemed fair considering you were getting some sort of winning streak. You had to come down one way or another, right?" Sam said from over his brother's shoulder, and your eyes flicked up to him.

"Let's go again then, huh?" You offered, to which you all looked over to Jake.

"Think my shoulders need a bit of a break. Lunch?" He looked between the three of you with his hand clapped at the back of his neck.

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The four of you joined back at the lake for a bit, choosing to relax in each other's presence for the remainder of the time spent outside. Basking in the warm sunlight that kissed your skin, although leaving your cheeks pink, it wasn't something you disliked. It was a reminder of the summertime, especially since your skin was growing tanner than it usually appears.

You all agreed to part ways and take showers to wash off the salty lake water, then join each other in watching the sunset around the fire pit. The usual routine of spending your nights outside became something you grew fond over, especially when it would switch up with a fun game included or Sam taking his turn in playing guitar. And on this night, he did just that.

He strummed the guitar for a bit, playing numerous different riffs that didn't follow a specific song. Just anything that came to his mind he played.

"Think Sam is giving you a run for your money, Jake." You nodded over to him.

He shot his eyes in your direction with a confused expression. "Yeah, he's pretty good, but he can't play guitar behind his head."

Sam scoffed as he stopped his playing. "Alright, well, maybe you can teach me, so we'll be even."

"A magician never reveals his secrets." Jake raised his bottle towards Sam.

Sam leaned in towards you, and said, "I'll learn it one way or another."

You giggled at him, patting his shoulder and edging him on to continue his playing.

The memories you were creating here with them would be unforgettable, whether that be the interesting events that took place every day, becoming closer with Sam and reconnecting after too long of time had passed, or finally being with Josh after years of wishful thinking and doubts.

The fire wasn't lit until an hour had passed in fear of it dying down too quickly. Sam ditched the acoustic and helped Josh get the flames lit ablaze, then both of them taking their usual spots around the pit once more. Jake had even brought marshmallows to roast, along with graham crackers and chocolate to make s'mores. It was like being a kid again, hanging around the fire at night with their family and stuffing your faces of the gooey sandwich.

"S'mores tonight? When'd you come up with that?" You pointed towards the bag that was filled with the squishy, white food.

Jake looked over to you and then to the bag. "When Sam and I were out shopping for groceries. Figured we could eat them while we watch the sunset."

The sun was slowly sinking down the mountainside. It painted the sky with hues of orange and pink while it lowered down into the lake.

Jake had the skewers at his side, standing up and handing two to you and Sam. After doing so, he handed the both of you your own bag of marshmallows, graham crackers, and Hershey's chocolate that he had stowed behind his seat and out of sight, making a sly joke that he was sure Josh and him would be able to finish their own bags.

You plopped one marshmallow onto the pointy stick, whereas they all followed your motions and began to roast them over the fire.

"So, you guys excited to get back onto the road?" You flicked your eyes between all of them.

Josh hummed for an answer, looking over to Jake as if he expected him to speak for him. Jake noticed his brother's eyes, then forwarded his direction to you. "Think we are all pretty stoked to get back out there. But it's nice to take time off and do whatever we want."

You gave him a small smile, followed with a nod, then whipped your head over to Sam. "You?"

He shrugged his shoulders as his eyes lit up in golden from the fire. "I always love touring, but nothing beats being here. It's like a sense of humanity. You know, feeling normal?"

"You don't feel normal all the time?" You huffed a laugh as you took your marshmallow away from the fire. You blew onto the small flame that overtook the top of it, putting it out and starting to make your s'more.

"Well, I didn't mean it like that," he rolled his eyes with a toothy grin, "meant it like, there's no feeling you can get from anywhere other than home." He turned the handle of the skewer in his hand, before lifting it up and examining his lightly burnt marshmallow. He lowered his voice a bit, flicking his eyes over to his brothers before he turned to you. "And I don't get to hang out with you when I'm gone."

You laughed at his slight change of voice. He was always shy when it came to his feelings, especially speaking them out loudly when his brothers were around. Fear of seeming too soft, seeming too vulnerable.

"Awe, you're getting sentimental with me." You giggled as you brought your s'more to your lips.

"Shut up," he breathed. He smushed his marshmallow between his graham crackers, ditching the chocolate and taking a bite.

You just rolled your eyes off of him and noticed Josh had completely burned his marshmallow to a crisp, taking it off with a satisfactory smile and beginning to make his s'more.

"I think it's still on fire, Josh." You had your fingers over your mouth as you spoke to mask any bits of remanent pieces around your lips.

"Just the way I like it." He gave you a nod, looking over to Jake who just gave him a quiet laugh.

"He likes to burn his mouth." Sam leaned in towards you as he spoke, laughing under his breath.

You exchanged in the laughter and seeing Josh shooting you both a disapproving look. He took a large bite and hummed loud enough for you all to hear, then turning his head over his shoulder to watch what was left of the sun fall down where he could no longer see it.

As the sun began to set, and the stars lit up the sky with the moon, you all went back and forth telling numerous stories from your younger years. Usually, the twins would be the leaders in the stories, but they eventually gave you and Sam the floor.

And there you were again, brought back in time for a moment and forgetting that time passed quicker than you'd like. It was like when you all were in high school, wide awake in their backyard or watching movies in their basement. Time never reminded you that it had taken its course with their lives and leaving you behind in these moments, and you guys aren't who you used to be: four innocent individuals unsure of what the future held.

And those thoughts captivated your mind as you focused your eyes on the fire, beer in hand. You were never much of a beer drinker until Sam and you stole a few from their fridge and drank too many in his backyard after everyone went to sleep. But you still drank it around them because it felt right. Hell, everything felt right when with it was surrounding the three of them.

"What are you thinking about?" Sam tapped your forearm, and you quickly shot your eyes to him with a confused expression.

You quickly gained your consciousness back. "Just, about life. How I'm going to miss the fuck out of you when you leave."

He nodded slowly, clanking his beer bottle with yours and raising his to his lips. "That's my least favorite part about tour."

He knew you were unbelievably proud of them for all that they have accomplished. He knew that you wish them nothing but the best in everything that they do. But he also knew how much you missed him, his presence, your best friend that you would be able to stay awake with for hours on end and fall asleep without realizing it.

He continued. "But hey, we're here together now, right? We've got now to focus on, not the future."

You gave him an understanding nod, taking a small sip from your bottle and relaxing your arm back onto the chair with your hand hanging over the plastic.

There was now another person you were going to miss: Josh. Yeah, of course, you missed him when he was gone before, but things were different. You were going to have to remember how it felt to be wrapped in his arms, to kiss him, longer than you had the chance to. But Sam couldn't know that was plaguing your mind more than him. Because you've gotten comfortable coping with Sam's absence, but not Josh's. Not ever. And now, you were unsure how long that would take.

"I don't think I ever thanked you for inviting me, Sam." You rolled your head over to him. He looked at you with a raised brow, and a smile creeping from the corner of his lips.

"Well, you're welcome." He shot his chin up in your direction. "I'm glad that you decided to come. Reminds me of our trips up here as kids."

"That's what I've been thinking about!" You resituated yourself in your chair to lean closer to him. "It's like being back in time for a moment, except we're all older."

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head and taking another sip of his alcoholic beverage. "That's how time works, y/n."

"That's not," you sighed, "you know what I mean. Like we're reliving past memories."

"Except we're creating new ones - better ones. Unfortunate that they're here to screw it up." He joked, lifting his drink over to his brothers who were caught up in a conversation. They both noticed your eyes lingering on them, so they acknowledged the both of you.

"You guys saying some mean shit about us?" Josh cocked his eyebrow comically at you and Sam.

"No, y/n was just talking about how it feels like we're 'reliving past memories' being here. And she thanked me for inviting her." Sam gave you a quick smile.

"Well, I think I speak for everyone when I say we're glad you joined us on this trip." Josh gave you a soft smile, keeping his eyes held with yours. Intention and meaning laid behind that look, but only you could decipher it.

"I'm just happy none of you have gotten annoyed with me." You sighed.

"Who said that we haven't yet?" Sam muttered, to which you gave him a back-hand slap on his chest with your free hand.

"Guess that's my cue to get ready for bed then." You said. You had noticed the night had bloomed fully, and you could feel your body becoming glued to the chair. You stood, finishing the last few sips of your beer before saying, "goodnight."

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You had fully gotten yourself ready for bed, laying under your covers and waiting for Josh's arrival. You never needed to ask him to come into your room after everyone went asleep, but you figured you'd shoot him a text.

Hey, waiting up for you. I miss you.

You stared at that text for a few seconds, deciding to delete it and let time be the fate of whether or not he'd come see you. You set your phone down flat onto the nightstand, next to a photo of a family photo of the Kiszka's. It had caught your eye, so you figured you would examine it while you waited.

You heard the door creak, loud enough to forward your attention to the noise, and you saw Josh smiling at you sheepishly, wearing a pair of brown shorts and a bare chest as he creeped into your room with minimal noise.

He turned his back on you two shut the door. Then, he pointed at the picture frame in your hand. "Whatcha looking at?"

You flipped the picture towards him, and he met you at your side and picked it up. A light smile grazed his lips as he began tracing a few of the faces that lied in the photo.

"Sam hated those braces." He chuckled, setting the photo back onto the nightstand and meeting your eyes.

"I remember him complaining about the bullying. I always felt so bad for him."

Josh crawled over you, making himself comfortable under your blankets before pulling you into his side. "I tried sympathizing with him, but he usually just went to his room in frustration."

You had your head rested in the crook of his neck, with one hand placed on his chest and the other tucked between yours and his's bodies. "He was never a fan of showing his emotions."

Josh just shrugged it off, unsure of what to follow it up with. He rubbed the side of your arm, then using his pointer finger to drag it down slowly. He pressed a kiss on the top of your head as he continued his motions. You were truly content with how you were with him, and the thought of Sam wasn't one that you wanted to plague your mind anymore with.

You removed yourself from his embrace and sat on your legs for a brief moment. He gave you a puzzled look, but it immediately wiped off his face once you straddled his waist. You brought the palms of your hands on his chest, running them up and down smoothly as you watched your motions.

Your eyes looked at him through your lids with a coy grin dancing on your lips. You were satisfied with the way his hands fell onto your hips the moment you sat on his hip. Then, he began running them up your sides from underneath your shirt. His hands were cool at first, but immediately melted into your skin once he ran them back down your body.

He leaned up and crashed his lips onto yours. His hand had tangled its way onto the back of your head with your hair looping through his fingers. You had one hand on his shoulder, the other on his face, holding him onto your mouth to keep him from breaking away. Who knew after a short period of time you would miss the way his lips taste?

Peppermint laced his tongue as he met your own, groaning with an open mouth and gripping on your hip harshly. You prayed his fingers would leave prints just as a reminder the next morning that they had grazed your skin.

His lips traveled to your jaw, then your neck, holding you onto his mouth with each kiss. He was sure to not wrap his lips around your neck too deeply and leave any trace of his whereabouts, but deeply enough for you to know he was there in that moment. You had found your nails digging into his shoulder blades, with your mouth hung open and releasing quiet sighs of pleasure. The way his cool lips hit your seemingly burning up skin was a sensational relief, and you began to rock your hips gently against him.

He wrapped his fingers around your chin and brought you back onto his lips hungrily. His hands landed back on your waist to help you steady your pace and feel each motion wherever he could. But you, you could feel him under you, growing harder with each movement of yourself against his shorts.

You found yourself slowing your hips to a halt and pressing your forehead onto Josh's. The question lingered of "should you" and "what if's"? You both seemed to have decided what you wanted, but there was your mind wandering again on worry and safety.

"Hey," Josh looked up at you with his eyebrows pulled towards the bridge of his nose, "everything okay?"

You breathed a laugh through your nose. "Yeah, everything is fine. Just..."

"Sam?" He said, free of emotion.

You gave him a look of disappointment, not towards him, but yourself. You just nodded, bringing your hands to his face and removing your forehead from his. You felt bad that you were still holding back because of your best friend, but that just meant waiting a little longer.

"I'm sorry, Josh. I just-."

He cut you off quickly as he cupped your cheeks. "No, no don't be sorry. Think it's best if we wait, anyways. Builds up more," he shook his shoulders, "tension."

You rolled your eyes, pressing a kiss on his lips with a downturned smile and looking at him with a sigh. "You've got to be the most understanding person I know."

"That's a good thing, right?" He gave you a toothy expression, mouth parted open.

You just gave him another kiss as your answer, then wrapping your arms around his neck while tilting your head to the side.

"Feel a bit bad I'm letting him get in the way of us." You gave him a light shrug. "We both kind of promised each other that he wouldn't."

He resituated himself under you, then wrapped his arms around your back and bringing you into his chest. One of his hands caressed your back, while the other massaged the back of your head.

"You shouldn't," he whispered into your ear, "but I understand where you're coming from. It doesn't upset me; in case you were worried about that - that you're worried about Sam. He's also right next door, so it's best we don't test out limits any more than we have."

"Just can't wait to tell him so I don't feel like a shitty friend for keeping this a secret." You mumbled into his skin.

"Thinking about sitting him down, like an intervention of the sorts, and telling him."

You leaned up and looked at him with your face scrunched up. "That's what you suggest?"

"Would you rather me be casual about it? Just go up to him and tell him like it's no big deal."

"I don't even know what I'd prefer," you shook your head with a short exhale through your nose, "but all I know is that it'll be...interesting."

"Interesting, indeed, my dear." He widened his eyes, then giving you a gentle kiss.

You removed yourself from on top of him and relaxed on the side of him, just like you were moments before you decided to sit on his lap. You sighed with slight relief, but thoughts running through your head of different scenarios of said day that would occur. How would he react? What would he say?

Josh held you close to him as the both of you relaxed with each other. It was going to be the closest thing to you sleeping in the same bed for the time being, and neither of you wanted to break from the moment. So, sitting in silence was comforting enough for the both of you.

You reached your hand out for him, and he intertwined his own with yours. His thumb rubbed the back of your hand as he hummed a soft tune.

"I've always loved your singing." You looked up to him.

He pressed a light kiss on your forehead and gave you a soft smile. "Well, I'm glad you do. Have yet to hear you sing, though."

"You're not going to want to hear my tone-deaf voice, Josh." You chuckled at him.

"Oh, I think I do." He egged on as he squeezed your hand. "A little duet, perhaps?"

"Not tonight, and probably not ever." You gave him a stern look with a quirk of your brow.

"Alright, alright," he sighed, "one of these days I will."

You rolled your eyes and relaxed your head back onto his shoulder. You could feel the usual pull your body had on you when you grew more exhausted, feeling as though you were unable to move from your position. His comfortable heartbeat was practically lulling you to sleep.

"I think I'm going to fall asleep." You groaned, letting your eyes rest shut.

Josh huffed a laugh, placing a light kiss on the top of your forehead. "Then I should probably leave for the night. I'd love to stay for another sleepover, but think I'll just use my bed tonight."

He shuffled himself out of the bed and waited for you at the door. You dragged yourself out from under the covers, coming over to him with your arms ready to be wrapped around his neck and pull him into a kiss.

"See you in the morning, alright?" He said into your lips.

You pulled away and gave him a singular nod. Neither of you liked saying goodbye, rather choosing to say when you two would see each other next. It was an odd sentiment that became some sort of tradition between the two of you. Because, truly, neither of you wanted to leave one another, but it was the unfortunate fate that was given to you both for obvious reasons.

He pressed his lips on yours once more before leaving you, holding your face in his hands with delicacy. The feeling of how soft his lips brushed against yours was one that you always missed, but moments like these were reminders that you’d get to wake up every morning and feel the same sensations all over again.

“What the fuck?” Sam spoke slowly, but annunciated every word from the now open door that you and Josh hadn’t heard creak from its shut state.

You pulled your lips off of Josh’s quickly. You didn’t push him away though, letting him act in his own actions by placing his hands flat on the sides of his legs and looking at his brother in near terror, the same expression you wore.

Your breath grew shaky, and your stomach began to turn and twist into a nauseated feeling. Your mouth was agape as you stared at your best friend witnessing the sight in front of him. Neither of you knew what to say, so you all reserved to silence. Frankly, you felt like you couldn’t move a muscle and were stuck frozen in place. Sam, on the other hand, tightened his grip harder on the door as his jaw tensed up, eyes still blown wide but eyebrows furrowed tightly. This was the most frustrated you’ve ever seen him, and that only made you more fearful of what was to come next.

You were caught doing something you never should have done in the first place, although it wasn’t his right to tell you what you could and couldn’t do. But it was wrong of you to be with his brother in the first place upon his request, and you broke that promise. That promise alone diminished every last ounce of trust he had in you and filled his entire being with disgust. Anger, hurt, disappointment; you name it. All of the negative emotions he could possibly have felt, he did now.

And you, you did as well. You had realized the mistake you made, and seeing how upset your friend was only made the reality of the situation worse. You had hoped that if you just shut your eyes, this would all go away, but that wasn’t how life worked. You had to own up to your mistakes, but you were afraid that if you opened your mouth, vomit would come spewing out.

Josh took in a deep, shaky breath. “Sam-.”

“Don’t say a fucking word to me, Josh.” He hissed; voice shaky as his finger pointed directly to his brother. He kept his eyes squinted at him, as a warning not to speak another word or else he would regret it.

Was he expecting you to say something? Did he want you to speak? If you were supposed to, you had to try and spill some words out of your dry mouth.

You swallowed the knot in your throat in hopes of being able to say something. A sentence. A single word, a sound. But all you could manage to do was stutter for a few moments, locking eyes with Sam as soon as your mouth began to utter sounds.

“I am so, so sorry, Sam. Please, let me-.”

“Let you what? Explain to me whatever the fuck it is I just saw?” He spat at you. His nostrils began to flare as his stare became more intense. “You are not fucking sorry. Don’t you stand there and lie to me, y/n. Unbelievable.” Your eyes began to well up with each word he spat at you. His eyes were already daggers, but his words were like bullets shooting into your heart with each slight raise in his voice.

Your bottom lip began to shake as you let out a choked breath, watching him suddenly stop caring about how you felt. In times where you were like this, he would be the one to console you. But now, that was the last thing he would do for you.

He turned his back on you, and without hesitation you followed him quickly out of your room and tugged at his arm the moment you were able to catch up to him. He whipped his head to meet your welled-up eyes and pull away from your grasp.

“I don't even know what to say to you right now, other than the fact that I'm fucking disappointed.” He stood in front of you, his pointer finger raising up shakily and shooting right into your face. He just watched your eyes become blurry, not even a single hint of sympathy in his face. You knew he wanted to see you hurt, because that’s what he felt. He wanted you to feel as shitty as he did, as horrid as it sounds. But he didn’t care. “And you,” he looked behind you and noticed Josh standing just outside your door, walking over and looking down upon him yet lowering to his level just so he could meet his face properly, “you fucking promised you wouldn't try anything with her. You knew how I would feel, know how I feel about this, but you chose to do it anyways.”

You watched the scene from your locked position, feeling as though you were unable to move. Josh’s eyes began to wrinkle at the sides as his lips pulled tightly into an aggravated look. Now it was his turn to be upset, and you were just a bystander choking on your mournful, regretful tears. “It’s not your fucking choice to make, Sam.”

He was challenging him. He had no fear pent up in his system anymore, instead, a blazing fire that was igniting into fury. And Sam let out an evil laugh, throwing his head back as he shook it. Sam knew that Josh was never one to back down, so this was definitely some game he intended to play until things got messy.

“So, you admit that you don’t give a shit about how I feel then, huh?” He raised his eyebrows loosely. A devilish smirk had coiled onto his lips terrifyingly. He was trying to intimidate his brother, trying to win this game that Josh had begun the moment he shot back at his brother.

But Josh wasn’t usually a fighter He didn't want to start something that would become messy and for you to witness, although you've watched them brawl each other a few times as kids. “I didn’t say that, S-.”

He cut him off quickly with his hands clapped on his shoulders, tugging his brother closer to him. “But you know that’s what you did, right? You disregarded my feelings, my words, everything I ever said to you about how I would despise if this ever happened.” He shook his head in astonishment, with a light scoff breezing out through his nose. He flicked his eyes over to you, seeing how your lips had been pressed tightly together to muffle your cries with a quivering chin. How your eyes were puffy and had begun shedding a few tears down your cheeks and staining them.

Sam turned his attention back to Josh, who rolled his eyes and began to speak calmly. “Can we be civil and talk about this instead of you trying to make me feel shitty about this? I know you’re upset, Sam. But, I think you can grow some common sense and let us talk to you-.”

“No.” He pushed his brother back lightly as he removed his firm grip on his shoulders. He looked at you again, waiting for another tear to fall from your face. “The fuck are you crying for? Surely you’re not because you feel bad about this.”

“I do-.”

“No,” he stomped over to you as he raised his voice, “you obviously don’t! You’re crying because you were too stupid enough to get caught, y/n! You don’t feel bad. If you did, you never would’ve done whatever it is you two have been doing in the first place. Are you happy? Are you satisfied that you did the one fucking thing you promised me you would never do? Congratulations, y/n, you really outdid yourself with this one.”

Your breaths were quiet cries to him, letting your mouth open as your eyes flicked between his own. He had never yelled at you like this, never talked down to you like this. It was the most gut-wrenching thing you could ever experience. You just wanted this all to go away, for this all to be a twisted nightmare that you could wake up from.

“Why are you being so mean to me, Sam?” It was a stupid question you were asking, but it was one you wanted to say out loud. There was the obvious reason why he was upset with you, but how he was dragging you through the dirt only made you feel like you didn’t know him. You never saw this side of him before, and frankly, you didn’t recognize who stood before you. It was mortifying to watch him just stare at you as if he could care less you were very much upset about this. In fact, you could even get the sense he wanted you to cry.

He just laughed at you, leaning his head back as he continued his laughter to himself. “Can’t believe-why am I being mean to you? Are you fucking kidding me?” He brought his hand to his head as he looked around the dim hallway with an evil, toothy smirk plastered on his face with disbelief. “You destroyed the trust I had for you. You think I wouldn’t be upset by this? Is that what you expected?”

You let out a choked cry. “No, Sam-.”

“And yet, you chose to sneak around with my brother. Disgusting.” He spat, pressing his lips tightly together with a light shake of his head. He looked towards Josh, who was breathing deeply by the way his shoulders rose with each inhale of air he took. “Fuck you.”

He walked back to his room without another word to you both and you grappled enough force to move yourself towards him, watching as the door shut loudly in your face. Your legs felt like jelly with each step, eyes barely of any help with how your tears filled your waterline and blocked your vision.

You banged on his door with the sides of your fists, screaming his name as you cried. “Sam, Sam please open the door.”

You continued your actions, calling for him again and again. “Sam, please. Please can we talk about this? Sam!”

You were growing exhausted. You could feel your legs wanting to give out with every harsh knock on his door. You were practically using all of your force. “Sam,” you choked out quietly, “please.”

You sunk your hands down from the door, lowering yourself to the floor as an uncomfortable knot bubbled in your throat. Your entire mouth felt dry, and it had you gasping for air as you fell onto the ground and relaxed your face onto the wood. Your cheeks were burning up - your entire body was with how your waling cries were bouncing off the walls. Your eyes faltered to the floor as your body reminded you of the nausea that sat in the pit of your stomach and tore it from the inside. As if you could feel so empty yet so built up with everything that was happening internally and externally. You felt lost.

Josh came to your side immediately, crouching down and waiting for the right moment to bring you into his body. He wasn’t sure if that was what you wanted, so he just relaxed his elbows on his knees with his hands hanging over the split of his legs. You met his eyes, and although you were utterly embarrassed by how unattractive you felt in this moment, that was the last thing you cared about right now.

“I shouldn’t have let this happen; this is all my fault.” He said in a low whisper, with his face fully in a regretful state. He didn’t regret anything he did with you, no, he regretted breaking the promise that he had everything figured out. That Sam wouldn’t find out this way. That Sam wouldn’t get in between the both of you.

You couldn’t find words to say, you just leaned the side of your head back onto the door and shut your eyes. You begged yourself to wake up, wake up from this. Wake up. Wake up.

You banged your fist against the door again, whether it was in an attempt to call out for Sam, or out of pure agony. You couldn’t pick out exactly how you felt, but you knew it was painful. You weren’t upset with Sam, or Josh, but yourself. It takes two for a relationship to happen, and you could’ve not let it occur. But you instigated the first kiss, telling Josh it was okay and that you didn’t care what Sam thought. It was you that started this. It was you that fell for him first. It was you that betrayed your best friend.

Josh had sat himself on his knees, pulling you into his chest and letting your head fall near his heart. Mucus began to drip from your nose as you choked on your own breath, practically hyperventilating from your cries of dismay. Josh held you tightly in his arms, looking down at you because he didn’t know how else to comfort you. He knew there was nothing to say to make you feel better, because what was there to say? That he was sorry? You knew that. That you two would figure it out? How? How could you believe that when that was all he’s been promising to you for the past weeks and a half?

So, he sat with you mute, listening to your loud cries that should’ve woken up Jake. Hell, it could’ve wakened up anyone in distance of the lake house if they were near. You tried to calm yourself, processing with every ounce of mindful thinking you could forge together to focus on your breathing, but to no avail.

Eventually, he wrapped his arms under your legs and pulled you up with him. A light grunt escaped his throat as he stood to his feet, but he managed to keep you in his grasp and take you back to your room. You didn’t fight it, mainly because there was no energy left in your body to do so, instead reserving all of it to continue your cries.

He rested you into your bed, throwing the covers over your body and stripping his shorts off his body once he reached the opposite side of the bed. Even if you wanted him to leave you alone, which you were sure that you didn’t, he wasn’t going to just walk out on you in your most anguished state. It tore at his heart to see you like this, as he’s only really seen you cry once or twice.

You shuffled yourself into his chest, painting his bare skin with your tears. He just rubbed your back slowly in hopes of relaxing you, and it helped to some extent. You cried to the point of near exhaustion, and as much as you felt the need to let out more upsetting whines, your body was unable to do so. So, you just choked up a bit, sniffling into his chest as you rested your eyes, pressing harshly onto them to release anymore tears your body could produce. But there was none. Your eyes were simply dry, puffy and red. You didn’t know if that would be the end of your sobbing, if you would wake up in the middle of the night and remember that Sam had cut you deep with his words and have you spiraling back to feeling sorrowful. You didn’t want to think about it anymore, because you know you needed sleep. And Josh was helping coax you with each circle he drew on your back, and with each trace down the side of your head he’d bestow upon you.

⊱ ━━━━.⋅ εïз ⋅.━━━━ ⊰

series taglist: @gvfleetwood @sacredjake @aureatopia @myeyehurtz @alexiagx @objectsinspvce @unhappycylinder @spinthehemmo @carbonwritingthroughtime @thecoldwind @ageofsophgvf @fakeplastiqtree @thepritchardscale @gvfpal @light-myluv @raviolilegs @jordierama @alwayskiszka

other tags: @ageofhearingloss @mountain-in-springtime @ignite-my-fire @gvfsstardust @jakesguitarsolo @fallonfatality @gold-mines-melting @digitalcalamity @demolitionndann @lipstickitty @lexii-nv-c @joopsworld @ryrybaby @hellowgoodbye << for all of you new here, welcome to my first series! tagged you in a interesting plot point, so you might want to catch yourself up a bit if you'd like! ;) and, thanks for joining my taglist! will be tagging you all in future works.

-part seven-

#greta van fleet #josh kiszka #jake kiszka #sam kiszka #danny wagner #sammy kiszka #danny gvf #josh gvf #jake gvf #sam gvf #josh kiszka gvf #jake kiszka gvf #sam kiszka gvf #josh kiszka fanfiction #josh kiskza fanfic #josh kiszka fluff #josh kiszka angst #josh kiszka smut #josh kiszka fic #josh kiszka x reader #josh kiszka x you #josh kiszka x y/n #endless summer #endless summer fanfic #endless summer fanfiction #sam kiszka angst #sam kiszka fanfic #sam kiszka fanfiction #sam kiszka fic #sam kiszka fluff