#just trying to brighten myself up a bit

[sophiamcdougall]

I am never going to complain about Greek Duolingo again

I mean, I am. But still.

So, as some of you know, my family has been coming to this tiny Greek seaside village for several years. Just over a week ago I came out here with my mum, under the impression that early September, after the height of the summer heat, would be a good time to have a holiday. ANYWAY Storm Daniel had other ideas about that. Locally things are improving (I'm actually really pissed off about the disaster-porn tone of most English-language media coverage, but that's another post). The power is back on, there's running water most of the time, and though the latter is not drinkable, a truck from the government came and handled out free bottled water yesterday. But we are currently kind of stuck. Can't do tourist things. Can't go home. There aren't any local flights out until Saturday and the road to Thessaloniki is still closed.

So this evening, feeling kind of aimless and depressed, I go down to the nearest beach with a couple of binbags and start cleaning up in an effort to at least do something positive. I always try to do this at least once out here and obviously, after the storm, there's a lot more plastic and rubbish than usual.

At some point I find this large, round bit of metal - some kind of machinery part, I think -- that's too big for the bag, so I take it to the bins on its own, leaving the rubbish bag on the beach. And when I come back for it, something among the stones beside it moves.

Specifically, it pulls its head sharply inside its shell

So, meanwhile I've been trying to learn some Greek with the help of Duolingo.

I currently have a 33-day streak and... I have questions. Shouldn't I be able to use the past or future tenses by now? Shouldn't I be able to say "x is like y"? I can't do those things. But one thing I absolutely can say all day long is έχω μια χελώνα : I have a turtle.

This is far from the limit of Duolingo Greek's turtle-related content. "An obsession with turtles" is my mother's characterisation. I can inform you that the turtle is not a bird, and, improbably, that the turtle is drinking milk. I can introduce you to a turtle in company with a horse and an elephant. As far as Duolingo is concerned, it really is turtles all the way down.

Now this, you may be able to see, is not a turtle. It has claws rather than flippers. It is a tortoise. I know there are wild tortoises in Greece: my aunt once rescued a pair of them shagging in the middle of the road -- but that was up in the mountains. I've even seen one myself, but it was also on a road and very dead.

I am 95% certain they don't belong on beaches. There's nothing for it to eat, except, unfortunately, a lot of plastic. Even if it gets off the beach it will immediately find itself on a road where it could get hit by a car. I'm pretty sure it must have been washed down by the floodwater and has been just sitting there, dazed, ever since.

Now obviously the first thing I want to do on encountering this unusual animal is to go and tell my mummy, so I do. The tortoise immediately brightens her day. She agrees that the tortoise is not happy on the beach and needs to be taken somewhere safe. it gets surprisingly wriggly when picked up so we put it in a carrier bag with some grapes and cucumber and go looking for somewhere to rehome it.

We find a path leading up between the houses towards a likely-looking field, but before we get very far a dog in a yard goes berserk and a man's head pops over a fence and demands to know what we're doing. He does this in English, as evidently we're just that obviously tourists.

"I found a tortoise on the beach!" I explain. "We want to find somewhere to put it."

"A what," he asks.

"It's like a, you know," I begin and then to my astonishment I find myself saying... "μια χελώνα"

"Oh! A turtle!" he says.

"But from the land. δεν είναι χελώνα", [it is not a turtle,] I say, as I am worried he will tell me to put it back near the sea where I found it. As it turns out it actually IS a χελώνα, Greek does not distinguish between turtles and tortoises, but I don't know that; I can't even name the days of the week or identify any colours other than pink yet, give me a break.

The man's entire demeanour changes and thaws. He does not worry about my turtle-that-is-not-a-turtle conundrum. He knows where οι χελώνες come from and where η χελώνα μας belongs. He leads us through a gate into a courtyard area.

"[somethingsomething] μια χελώνα," he explains to the assembled onlookers, of whom there are, suddenly, a surprising number.

"ΜΙΑ ΧΕΛΩΝΑ!!!" crows the throng of delighted small children, who are, suddenly, everywhere.

"μια χελώνα!" I agree, accepting that at least for current purposes, that is what it is.

"Μπορούμε να δούμε τη χελώνα σας; [can we see your turtle?]" asks an adorable little girl, shyly, and I understand??

The children fucking love looking at the χελώνα and showing it to them is kind of magical?

I finally put the tortoise down on the grass of this wild area off to the side of the courtyard, and marvel aloud that it is weird that I barely know any Greek except how to say μια χελώνα.

"I think she will soon run off," a kind lady called Aspasia assures me, seeing I remain slightly anxious about its fate. "I don't know why I'm saying 'she'. I suppose because χελώνα is feminine in Greek."

"Yes! I know that!" I exclaim, thrilled.

"Well done!" she says. And also she asks if we are OK for drinking water after the storm and if we need any help with anything and is just generally incredibly lovely and now we know more of the neighbours!

So "μια χελώνα" has just become, by a long way, my most-used and most understood and all-around most conversationally successful phrase in Greek. So I guess I have to admit I was wrong to doubt Duolingo's wisdom: it is correct to be obsessed with turtles. And I concede that prior to learning how to count to ten or to distinguish right from left, the simple ability to yell the word TURTLE over and over again is, it turns out, a crucial element of the responsible traveller's social skills.

(I am pretty fluent in Italian and turtles haven't come up in conversation even once?)

#story time

[mostmouse]

The Swordsmith with a Cute Name

Hotaru Haganezuka has gone missing in the swordsmith village, surely his wife must know where he is, right? The thing is, he sort of only visits at night.

(Hotaru Haganezuka x f!reader, explicit, 5,800 words, slight yandere themes) as always - cross posted to my AO3 :)

Tanjiro marveled at the entrance of the Swordsmith Village, the architecture striking him. Growing up in the mountains, he had never really been exposed to such buildings, and he didn’t want to count his time in the entertainment district. Waving to the people milling about on his way to the chief’s residence, he sniffed the air, trying to see if he could scent his own swordsmith. While he could catch a faint smell, he couldn’t pinpoint where it was coming from.

Moving into the chief’s home, he listened to the older man speak of Mr. Haganezuka, balking as he openly threatened the man. Tecchin sighed, “We’re searching high and low for him, and I’m sure his wife has met with him in these last few months, but I can’t catch her with him!” He pouted, “I don’t have it in me to ask her to set a trap though, it’s already a miracle that Hotaru even managed to find a woman who would tolerate him.”

Tanjiro gasped before lighting up, “Mr. Haganezuka is married?! That’s wonderful!” Tecchin sighed delightedly, holding his cheek in his hands.

“Isn’t it just so? I raised him, so I know how difficult it can be. No matter what that woman has ever done, she’s a pure hearted angel in my books. I wish she’d join me in trying to detain Hotaru.”

Tanjiro laughed, slightly awkward. “I’m sure she’s making sure he’s safe and well cared for while he’s out.” The two continued to gossip before one of the other men in the room reminded their chief of his other commitments. “I’ll head out to acquaint myself with the village.” Bowing low, he smiled, “I’ll keep an eye out for Mr. Haganezuka. If I run into Mrs. Haganezuka, is it alright if I associate with her?”

Tecchin brightened up, sitting taller, “Yes! See if you can get her to open up about Hotaru’s whereabouts. Perhaps she’ll tell a young man as handsome as you. I’m sure Hotaru won’t mind, but he’s always been a bit possessive over her.”

Tanjiro’s smile was strained. “Ah, I hope so, too.” Gathering Nezuko’s box, Tanjiro got up to leave, bowing once more at the gentlemen before taking his leave. The hot springs were an overwhelming scent, but if he focused hard, he could almost track his swordsmith’s scent. Patting the box, he whispered to his sister, “Let’s see if we can find Mr. Haganezuka’s wife, I’m really curious what she’s like!”

Hearing Nezuko’s hum of affirmation, he trotted along the small village’s dirt streets. Eyes scanning everyone around him, he huffed slightly. “Everyone’s wearing those clown masks… How am I supposed to- ah!” Perking up, he caught a whiff of Mr. Haganezuka, jogging forward until he found someone in a pretty mask carrying leather goods.

“Ah! Excuse me, are you Mrs. Haganezuka?” Hearing your name, you turned to face him, shoulders straightening as you saw this boy had no mask. He must have been a visitor, how did he know your name? You weren’t a swordsmith, instead you crafted leather accessories for the swords your husband made.

“I am, and you are?” Tanjiro blushed as he forgot his manners, bowing deeply, he introduced himself. However, you interrupted him before he could mention his relationship with Mr. Haganezuka. “Oh! Tanjiro! You’re a client of Hotaru’s, aren’t you?”

The young man before you smiled brightly, and you felt your chest swell with sudden affection. He was too cute! “I am! I was wondering… Have you seen him? The chief mentioned that he’s been missing the last few months, so I can’t help but be worried.”

You stiffened, his earnest expression instead now twisting your heart. You stuttered over your words for a moment before plastering a wide smile on your face - not that he could see it. “Oh gosh, no! Sorry! I wish I could help, I really do! But, well, I don’t actually know where he is at the moment, I’m sorry!”

Waving your hand apologetically, you laughed airly. Tanjiro smiled softly, tilting his head. It didn’t take someone with a discerning nose like him to know you were lying. Well, you hadn’t actually lied, you probably really didn’t know where he was, but you certainly have seen him. Tanjiro breathed a sigh, smile not leaving his lips. “If you see him, could you let him know I’m here? I’d like to apologize for chipping my sword.”

Your hand dropped, reaching into the large bag at your hip. “Of course! I’ll let him know!” You chirped in realization, digging for whatever you were looking for with vigor, “If I see him! You know, because, yeah I-I don’t know where he is!” Laughing nervously, you held out a small item to him. “Silly me! Here’s take this, a gift for Hotaru for not being here!”

Tanjiro accepted the small leather sheath, gasping as he pulled out a knife. “Wow!” Eyes widening further, he shouted in surprise as the blade turned black. “It's a nichirin dagger!”

You brightened, clapping your hands. “I’ve been apprenticing under Hotaru for a few years, but unfortunately this is the only sturdy thing I can make right now. I’m actually a leather worker by trade! I craft hilts and sheaths!”

Tanjiro’s eyes lit up in stars, bowing once more. “That’s amazing! I’ll treasure this! I’ll only use it in emergencies!” You hummed happily, holding your cheeks. Tanjiro placed the dagger in his pocket, bowing for the last time. “Thank you so much, if you don’t mind me asking… Where’s the entrance to the hot springs?”

You laughed, reaching out and petting the top of his head fondly. “I don’t mind at all! Here, let me lead you.” You ignored his blush and how he tried to object, taking his hand and leading him away. “Please, it would be my honor! Maybe later you could introduce me to your little sister!” You eyed the box curiously, “I heard she’s downright adorable, I just have to meet her! And don’t worry, the canopy above the main hot springs is full coverage. Even though it's sunset, no light will get in, so she’ll be safe to soak, too!”

Tanjiro’s heart squeezed in his chest, you were much too kind. He couldn’t believe you were the wife of the man who sent him those threatening ink stained letters. Once the two of you approached the steps, the both of you looked up as the love hashira barreled down towards you, shouting.

You laughed delightedly, shouting your greetings as Tanjiro panicked, rushing up to close her kimono. Smiling as Tanjiro fussed over Mitsuri, you waved and walked away, giggling behind your mask. With a renewed pep in your step, you hummed as you made your way to your shared home on the outskirts of the village, nestled in the woods.

Closing the sliding door behind you, you slipped your shoes off, setting down your bag and stretching tall, groaning loudly. Stepping up onto the clean floors, you made your way to the kitchen. Paying no mind to your surroundings, you didn’t notice as your large husband crept up behind you.

Shouting, you felt strong arms wind around you, pulling you against a sturdy built chest. “H-Hotaru!” His mask clacked against yours as pressed himself to the back of your body, arms tightening.

“I saw you talking with Kamado, what did he have to say?” His voice was gruff, you could hear the agitation in it as you whimpered. His large hand came up to cup your mask, pulling it away from your face and setting it down. He was always so gentle with his works of art, but he didn’t bother the same treatment with you, especially when he saw you talking with other men.

“Hotaru, he’s just a boy, what are you so worked up ab- ah!” He hauled you up over his shoulder, carrying you to the bedroom. “Hotaru! Let me make us dinner, I haven’t seen you in a couple days!” You slapped his back before realization dawned on you, “W-Were you watching us? Have you been watching me on the days I don’t see you?”

He tossed you to the bed, quickly climbing over you and straddling your legs, hands holding your wrists on his thick thighs. “Hotaru! Stop!” You tried to wiggle, knowing it was futile, especially when he was focused on a specific topic or task.

“What did he say to you?” He leaned forward, bandana and mask keeping his expression from you. Squeezing you with his thighs, he huffed, “I won’t ask again.”

You growled, fed up with the cold welcome from the man you loved, “You’re being jealous! I don’t get a ‘hi’ or a kiss, or a ‘good evening honey, how are-’ ahh!” He tugged your wrists up, body quickly following as you were brought to his chest, his arms winding around you in a tight hug.

You pouted, not wanting to talk about it but knowing you wouldn’t get anything from him if you didn’t - the man was ridiculously stubborn and could hold out much longer than you. He always had his swords to go to when he wasn’t getting his way. “Nothing! He didn’t say anything, just that he was sorry for chipping his sword. Tecchin spoke with him earlier so he knew you were missing.”

You whined a bit, going slack in his arms, “I think he knew I was lying he asked me about you… But he didn’t press it. I gave him that dagger I’d been working on. It turned black just like his blade though, I’m sorry.”

Your husband’s grip relaxed a bit, though he didn’t move from where he was perched on your lap, still keeping you contained. His burly hands came back around and held your cheeks as he sighed heavily. “It’s not your fault. All the blades I’ve made have turned black as well.” Groaning loudly, he set his jaw on the top of your head.

Cautiously, you brought your arms up, slipping his mask off before tugging his bandana away from his head. His hair spilled from where it was tied up in the fabric, cascading over his shoulders in a flowing wave.

Sighing as you tended to him, you spoke up in a small comforting voice. “Hotaru… Do you wanna get up for me and we can make some dinner?” He scoffed, gritting his teeth, his jaw tense where it rested above the crown of your head. Sighing, you pet his thighs. “You'll be less grumpy once you eat, sweetness.”

Pushing your shoulders back, he fixed you with a hard glare. “You know how I feel when you speak with other people.” He gripped your cheeks with both hands, “You’re mine. You know that. Why do I have to keep reminding you?” His perfect lips turned to a sneer, and you recalled how he was only okay with you speaking to a handful of people in the village.

You pouted, your lips squished together and preventing you from speaking. Growling you tried to shake your head to escape his grip, however that had him holding onto you tighter. “You’re mine.”

His voice was as rough as his lips as he crashed his against yours. Whimpering at the force, feeling the impact on your teeth, you tried to wiggle away from him. His hands came up behind you, twisting in your hair and holding you in place. His tongue pushed past your lips, teeth clacking as he ravaged your mouth.

You whimpered, hands pulling his hair as you tried to break free. Even though you were sure it wasn’t because of you, he pulled away, moving only the smallest bit away from your mouth. His burly body blocked everything else from your line of vision, the only thing you could see being him. His eyes bore into yours, gaze intense, and you knew you wouldn’t get away from him unscathed.

You whimpered, his hands pressing you down onto your back as he slipped off you. “Don’t move.” You gave a sharp shout as he tore your kimono open and off of you, easily slipping off your undergarments with deft fingers.

Hotaru’s rough hands pawed over your freshly displayed body, nails scratching you slightly. You whimpered, body jolting with each touch as he moved downwards onto his knees. You tentatively pet his hair, gasping as he grabbed your palms and pressed them to the side of the bed, flat. “What did I just say?”

He didn’t move, staying still as his eyes stared up at you from between your legs. Your mouth was dry as you looked up towards the ceiling. “D-Don’t move.” His grip tightened as he bit your thigh, ignoring as you cried out.

“And what did you do?” Hands leaving yours, he pushed your thighs wide open, admiring your cunt. You whimpered above him, shouting as he bit your other thigh.

“Moved! I-I’m sorry! I’m sorry, ‘Taru, please!” Huffing at your words, he abandoned your hands and instead kept to holding your thighs. At his silence, you shuddered as his breath puffed over your slit. Now that he seemed wholly uninterested in what you were doing or saying, you knew the night was only beginning, his impressive and irritating focus narrowing in on pleasuring you until he had his fill.

Gasping, your hips jerked as his tongue slid up your slit, slow and wet. “Hotaru…” You grabbed at his hair, knowing he was so focused he wouldn’t be paying you anymore attention outside of eating you out.

His hands gripped the fat of your thighs, tongue pushing past your slit and dipping inside your cunt. Your back arched at the feeling, basking in the pleasure for as long as you could. His mouth went to work as his hands groped you, moving up your body and squeezing anywhere he could reach.

Peering above your chest and tummy, you moaned lowly at the sight of him between your legs. His eyes were half lidded, a blush on his cheeks, and showing no indication of looking up at you, entirely enraptured in your sweet cunt. You tossed an arm over your eyes, the other resting in his hair as you wrapped your thighs around his head.

Sighing, you let him lick you, drooling over your already wet cunt. “Hotaru~” You felt him press his face closer against you, tongue shoved deep inside you. Arching your back, you pulled his hair, the man staying silent as he moved upwards to suck your clit.

“Ahh!” You shuddered at the feeling, moaning and crying out as his hands shifted to your hips. Gripping you tightly, you moaned at the rough treatment. He lifted you up higher, hands moving to cup your ass while his eyes slid shut. He pawed at your skin, squishing it in his palms as he sucked your clit tight into his hot wet mouth.

Writhing on the bed, you pulled his hair, letting your legs fall open, thighs resting on his broad shoulders. “Ahh~ So good~” You pet his hair as he slipped his tongue back into your cunt, licking you hotly. You rocked your hips in his grip, grateful he wasn’t holding you down this time.

Moving his head, you felt his tongue slip deeper inside, his own rough moans muffled by your plush skin. You whimpered loudly, head falling back as you felt him move one of his hands from your ass. You swallowed tightly, anticipation rattling your lungs as you felt him slowly curve it around your thighs to settle between your legs, just under his mouth.

You whined as one rough finger slipped inside you, the size of his digits easily outmatching your own. “Please, Hotaru~” He delicately pet inside of you, reacquainting himself with your body. You rolled your hips against his face, whining once more as he ignored you, steadying his hand and stroking you with one digit.

His tongue soon left you, moving up to your clit as he sucked once more, feeling your swollen bundle against his tongue, his finger soft inside you. You cried out, bucking your hips as you pulled his hair, his mouth not stopping as he sighed against you, eyes closed and tongue licking you rapidly.

“H-Hotaru! Ahh- fuck! Please!” You arched your back, dragging him so close to you that his nose was pressed against your mound. “‘M gonna cum! Haah~ Ah!” Your breath stuttered from your lungs, writhing against the soft comforter as your husband stayed on his knees, unbothered by your reactions.

You gasped for air as he continued, thighs quaking and sporadically squeezing his head before falling back open. He kept his hand firmly cupping your ass while the other slipped another finger inside your tightening cunt.

Sighing hotly, your hands loosened in his mane, petting flyaways from his sweaty forehead, laughing breathlessly as his eyes were still closed. “Hotaru… It’s not fair when I can’t l-look at your handsome face…” Your words trailed off, soft sharp moans falling past your lips as he built his speed back up.

Whimpering, you tried to push him away, knowing full well you couldn’t. “W-Wait, Hotaru, please!” He moaned gruffly against you, and you were sure his cock was aching and hard in his pants. “Please, Hotaru, I want you inside me! I know yo-ahh! K-Know you want it, too-” You covered your mouth with your hand, crying out as he curled his fingers inside you.

You had no idea to what end he would stop, it wasn’t uncommon for him to become so hyper fixated and focused on making love to you, whether that be with his mouth or cock. You knew he wouldn’t stop until he was done, and it didn’t matter if you were conscious when that time came. After much practice together, your beloved husband blossomed into quite the lover, but as with his sword making passion, he tended to allow himself to slip into a specific sort of headspace.

You writhed, legs kicking behind his head as you pulled your hands back up to yourself. Holding and fondling your chest, you cried out, his hand moving faster. “‘Taru! Fuck!” Panting hard, you felt him let go of your clit, catching his breath as his fingers tapped at your gspot. You arched again, body bending and back popping at the stretch.

He leaned back, admiring your reactions and how you squeezed and pulled at your breasts. Licking his lips, he watched your cunt flutter around his fingers, pulling back before thrusting them into you, the rough pace making your upper body curl. Your hands moved to fist the blanket instead, gasping and panting for air as your climax approached.

Growling, he dragged his hand from where it was squeezing your ass, pushing one of your thighs off his shoulder so he could nibble and suck marks into your plush skin. Crying out, he felt you tighten on his fingers, but it wasn’t enough to stop his fast pace. Moaning as he bit down, his hazy eyes watched as you arched high, hands blindly seeking and finding his long, wild hair.

“Ah-!” He winced as you pulled hard, eyes never leaving your face as you finished hard a second time. Leaving your bitten thigh, he pulled his hand back, spreading your legs so wide the brief thought of you splitting apart echoed in your blissfully empty head.

Moaning loudly and wantonly, you felt him replace his digits with his tongue, pushing past your plump cunt to lick inside you. His nails bit into your skin as you moved to twist his hair around your fists. “Hotaru!” You babbled incoherently, moaning as his wet fingers curled up to rub your clit fast and hard. “Ahh!” You curled forward screeching as he overstimulated you.

You could handle it when he cooled down a bit, giving you a slight break between orgasms, but you knew if he kept it up, you’d be passing out sooner rather than later. You were always a little sleepy after one climax, him getting you off repeatedly back to back was just mean.

Thighs quivering, he basked in your noises, surrounding himself with your perfect body, the taste of your cum making him strain in his now painfully too tight pants. Breaking away from your cunt, he panted heavily, fingers pinching your clit as he nibbled your plump slit. Crying out above him, he could barely make out how your upper body writhed for him.

Catching his breath, he dove back in, mouthing over your throbbing clit and three digits pounding your sweet spot. You screamed aloud, trying to scoot away from him, pushing him away and kicking your legs. “No! Stop! ‘Taru!” He had you on the brink, he could feel how tight you were wrapped around his fingers, knew you were at your limit.

It had been days since he’d last seen you, since he’d last touched you. He knew you were busy with your own jobs as well, coming home to an empty bed with no energy to touch yourself. He had to make up for lost times. It was a mantra in his head, to make sure you felt amazing before he even had a chance to feel good himself.

Moaning around your clit as it was snug inside his drooling mouth, his eyes flicked up to you. You laid there in bed, palms over your face as you gasped and shouted. As he laved his tongue over you, teeth pressing against your burning skin, he rubbed his calloused fingertips over your gspot, switching between pressing and rubbing hard to pounding them with quick movements of his wrist.

Finally, your head fell back, screaming as your voice cracked, finishing hard and bucking your hips against his jaw. He quickly abandoned your clit as he felt hot cum flood down his digits and into his palm. You cried out weakly as he voraciously ate you out, tongue pressing inside your cunt and fucking you.

Gasping and whimpering, your hips jolted as he licked up all your cum, dragging his tongue up your slit before flicking your swollen clit. Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, his mouth moved away from you, letting your legs rest against the end of the western style bed. He sat back on his heels, licking his hand clean as he watched you closely.

Muscles rippling beneath his clothes, he hovered above you, kneeling between your legs as his intense gaze watched your face. Blinking slowly, your dazed bleary gaze found his face, muddled from your airy state of mind. Breathing heavily, you managed a small weak, “‘Taru?”

Sighing above you, he kissed your forehead. Letting your eyes close, you felt him slip off the bed and pull you up into his arms. Maneuvering with you in his grip, he turned down the sheets, sliding you inside them. You hummed, comfortable amongst the soft sheet and plush pillows. Feeling yourself drift off, you registered faintly of your husband crawling in with you.

You tried to call out to him, but your throat was tired and dry. Cracking your eyes open, you moved your lips, about to call out to him before he got comfortable, but instead cried out loudly as you felt his thick cock fill you in one thrust. “Hotaru!”

You heard him groan above you, the tight fit rattling his spine. You cried out as he lifted your legs, hips quickly pistoning inside of you. Sobbing incoherently, you clawed at his chest as he hovered above you. “I- Stop!” His cock split you open, the messy sounds echoing around you as your husky voice called out to him.

Blinking rapidly, you tried to focus on his face, whimpering as his eyes bore into you, sweat dripping from his tense visage down onto you. He was quiet the entire time, not speaking as he fucked you roughly. Groaning and panting, he was otherwise silent as he focused entirely on your expression.

Writhing beneath him, you gripped his wrists as he held your hips still, his own crashing into yours roughly. “I can’t! S’too much!” You tossed your head to the side, brows pinched as he filled you up just to pull nearly out, filling you once more.

Your husband grunted above you, shuddering at your words. With a sharp gasp, his thrusts faltered, moans stifled as he rubbed your overstimulated and sore clit. You slapped his chest, tears at the corners of your eyes, “It hurts! Stop it, stop!”

However, Hotaru paid you no mind, panting as his climax washed over him, hips bucking without rhythm as you felt him pump his cum inside you. Dragging your nails down his chest once more and shaking your head, tears slipping down into your hairline. “No more! Please, ‘Taru!”

His gaze was focused as he met your own, but you whimpered, body quaking as you didn’t see any recognition in his intense stare. Instead, his eyes drifted down your body, large palm pressing into your belly. You choked out a moan as he moved his hips subtly, cock stroking your gspot as he pressed down harder.

You could see the edges of your vision turn fuzzy as he began to pump his hips again, the pace just as face and brutal. Gasping, you coughed roughly, hands pulling at his weakly, whimpering and crying out. As he pounded you, feeling your breasts bounce, your sudden climax had you shrieking before your field of vision went cloudy and you passed out.

Hotaru watched you from his position above you, admiring your blissed out expression as he made love to you. Licking his lips, he moaned as you finished around him, cunt once again tightening like a vice, squeezing him tighter than you had all night. Moaning loud and sharp, he winced while his hips continued their pace.

Panting heavily, his drool dripped down to your chest, your eyes closed and face no longer pinched. Gritting his teeth, he bowed his head forward, hips jerking roughly. After his intense orgasm before, he couldn’t deny that the overstimulation was beginning to hurt him as well. Grabbing your legs, he pressed them to his chest. Anchoring his heels in the soft bed, he pressed you tighter up against yourself.

Now that you were unconscious, it was easier to fold your body how he wanted to. Gritting his teeth, he felt himself reach deeper inside of you. “Ahh! Fuck!” Eyes closing, his face tensed as his body slowly began to as well. Panting desperately for air, he felt himself shudder as he finished once more, filling you with more hot cum.

Hands fell from your legs to either side of your head, sweat and drool dripping from him down to you as you remained blissfully unaware of how his cock throbbed and pulsed inside your hot cunt. His body quaked with aftershocks and pumped a bit more cum deep inside you.

Fisting his hands into the pillow on either side of your face, he groaned. His energy was spent, having already been exhausted from his training out in the forest surrounding the village. He wanted to keep going, not quite satisfied with his work, but having to admit he was as spent as you were.

With his last coherent train of thought, he moved your legs and slid out from between them. Collapsing next to you, he pulled you so your back was flush against his chest. Using his legs, he dragged the blankets up closer, tossing off the top comforter, and draping the two of you in the soft thin sheet.

Catching his breath, he littered your shoulders with kisses and bites, not caring if they would be visible above your kimono in the morning. Everyone in the village knew you belonged to him and him alone, so it wouldn’t matter if you were marked up. Sighing tiredly, his hands drifted over your body, scratching you with his nails before cupping your breasts.

Feeling sleep overtake him, he squeezed you before allowing himself to pass out.

All too soon, however, his eyes were cracking open once more, groaning as the sun shone through the window. You were still sleeping soundly next to him, face buried in the pillows and back rising with each deep breath.

Stretching tall, Hotaru felt his joints pop and crack. He didn’t like to stay too long after sunrise, preferring to train when the morning was still cool. Sitting up, he winced at the dull ache in his hips. He rolled his shoulders, swinging his thick legs over the side of the bed, moving to get up before your smaller hand grabbed his wrist.

Humming in thought, he turned, looking for your eyes under your mess of hair as it was splayed out on the pillow. “‘Taru…” Your grip was weak considering you were barely awake, and it would have been child’s play to break away from you. However, your enormous husband smiled softly, turning and crawling back into bed to cuddle you into his strong arms.

You hummed happily, eyes closing once more as you settled in his grip. His voice was husky as he whispered in your ear, delighting in how you shuddered, “Good morning. How are you feeling?” You laughed softly, the sound barely passing your lips.

“Sore. Wonder why that is? Don’t think I’ll-” Yawning widely, you rolled your shoulders, “Don’t think I’ll be able to walk very well this morning.” You blinked blearily at him, a soft smile on your tired face.

He couldn’t help but lick his lips, grinning smugly. “You’re lucky I let you leave the house at all.” His hand drifted down, grabbing your ass roughly, smirking as you moaned and hid your face in his chest. “You’re mine. Nobody should ever get to see you again. The only forge you have any business being in is mine.”

You laughed softly, kissing his chest where you could reach him, “You’re not even in your own forge nowadays, Hotaru. I get lonely without having you.” He scoffed at your words, grumbling under his breath.

You squealed as he squeezed you tight. “Don’t care. Don’t let me see you getting too friendly with anyone else while I’m gone, understand me?” His gaze was on you now, pulling you back from his chest.

You sighed lovingly as you took in his face with the morning sunlight. “You’re so handsome, I love you.” He crinkled his nose, watching as his words went in one side and out the other. Sighing at your helpless nature, he pulled you into his lap before sitting up.

“We can make it to the hot springs and back before it's time to make a proper breakfast.” You whined in his grip as he stood up, placing you in a nearby chair as he found some clothes for the both of you. Tying you up in a loose kimono, he grabbed another larger one for himself, tying it closed and moving to lift you up once more.

You giggled happily in his arms, still veiled in a thin shroud of sleep. “You wore me out last night… I’m not sure I remember half of it.” Hotaru grunted, grabbing his mask before walking to the entryway and grabbing yours as well.

Slipping on his sandals, he hefted you up higher in his arms, “You passed out.” You were speechless for a moment, staring at him from under your sunny mask, before laughing quietly to yourself.

“You’re horrible! Tecchin was right, you’re a handful!” Hotaru snorted under his mask, holding you closer to his chest. You listened to his heartbeat as well as his deep voice as he spoke up once more.

“Please, you’re just as much of a handful. We’re a perfect match for each other, no one else could handle us.” You laughed again, waking up as the sun filtered through the trees as he carried you to the hot springs.

Leaning up, you tapped his cheek with your mask then his ear over his bandana in a makeshift kiss. “You’re right… I’d be a mess without you, you know.” Resting your cheek on his chest once more, the two of you basked in the morning sunlight together.

Wiggling your nose, you looked away as you got closer to the hot springs. “Gross.” You felt your husband’s shoulders shake slightly, silent laughter at your childish tone. “Oh well, at least I get to soak with you!”

You nuzzled his neck, rubbing his chest as he crested the steps to show a large pool of steaming water. You wiggled in his grasp, hearing his laugh softly as he put you down before scrambling to pick you back up as your legs gave out. You slapped his chest as his arms wound around your waist, pulling you snug and tight against him once more.

“You did this! This is your fault!” You slipped your mask up to rest atop your head, smiling fondly at your beloved. Once yours was secured, you moved to tug his off along with his bandana.

Hotaru pouted at you before smiling softly and kissing you gently. Sitting you on the edge of the spring, he easily stripped you of your kimono before stripping himself down as well. Wading into the spring, he bundled you back into his arms and sat the two of you against the inner wall.

Sighing contentedly, you apologetically pet the red scratches on his chest. “Sorry…” You smiled up at him softly before kissing them, noticing how some had dried blood on them. “I should trim my nails down a little, I think…”

He grabbed your hand, kissing your knuckles before relaxing back, stretching his legs out. “Don’t worry about it, I was the one who pushed you last night.” You smiled, relaxing against him, mischievous eyes looking up at him.

“And yet you’re not apologizing.” Your husband scoffed, not bothering to look down at you, opting to squeeze you tightly instead before loosening his grip just as quick.

“Because I’m not sorry. You’re my wife, I’ll take you however I please whenever I want.” You balked at his steady words, his tone final.

“Hotaru Haganezuka! You’re bad!” You bit his chest before blowing a loud raspberry against him. He laughed loudly, moving so that he could kiss your forehead. You slapped him lightly, shaking your head but basking in his laughter. “What on earth am I going to do with you?”

He hummed, relaxing back against the spring’s wall again. “Stay with me. Forever.” His suddenly sincere tone had your chest welling up in affection and adoration. Sighing softly, you rested back against him, smiling.

“Of course. Always.” Hotaru pet your hair, relaxing in the early morning rays in the deserted hot spring with you in his arms. Thoughts of work began creeping into his head, but he pushed them off, wanting to spend just a little more time with you in sweet intimacy.

#haganezuka x reader #hotaru haganezuka x reader #hotaru x reader #hotaru haganezuka #kny #demon slayer

[michelle-is-writing]

Tired, Spencer Reid

Word Count: 800~

A case that takes more than a week to solve usually tires Spencer out to the point that he's zoning in and out of sleep as he enters the apartment. This case was no different. In fact, he was so tired out from everything that the first thing he did was plop down on the couch after dropping his bags by the door. Usually, he'll take them to the bedroom and unpack, and usually, he won't start falling asleep two seconds after pushing his face into my lap either.

Moving the book in my hands over to the side, I peer down at him and smile with an eyebrow raised. "Tired much?" I joke with him, taking a hand away from my book and placing it on top of Spencer's fluffy hair. He tiredly groans in response to my words before turning his face up to greet mine, only to be blocked by the book in my hands.

"I see you've begun reading from my side of the bookshelf," He notes with an exhausted smile. My smile brightens as I look back at the printed words of the many poets and writers during the transcendentalism era. "It fell when I was dusting earlier, and I've always enjoyed poems and short stories, so I decided I would read it," I explain, placing a finger in the book so I don't lose my place.

Planting his face back into my lap, Spencer speaks up. "How far have you gotten?" He asks, his voice muffled by my legs. I look back at the unread page in my hands and look for my previous spot.

"Currently, I'm in the middle of The Birthmark by Nathanael Hawthorne," I answer. "Do you want me to read it to you?" I question him, smiling as I comb my fingers through his hair.

"I would love that," He tells me, his eyes closing soon after. As soon as I see him do this, I just know he's going to fall asleep within a few seconds. Nonetheless, I still begin reading it to him, trying to make him stay awake for just a bit longer by keeping my voice slightly raised.

"Such a union took place and was attended with truly remark- Spencer?" Not even ten seconds pass after I begin reading that Spencer's snores start overriding my voice. Looking down at him, I hold back a laugh before nudging his shoulder. "Spencer?" I say his name. "Spencer...?" I repeat myself, drawing on his name until I see him lightly jolt and wake up.

"Did you already finish?" He asks, his voice already groggy. This time, I don't hold back my amused laughter and watch as the messy-haired goofball stares at me, confused.

"Baby," I begin. "I barely even started before you fell asleep," I inform him, his eyebrows furrowing in even more confusion. Upon realizing it's the truth, he sighs before replanting his head back onto my lap.

"I'm sorry..." he apologizes, reaching a hand up to rest on my knee. He runs his thumb against the soft material of my pajama pants before eventually stopping, growing tired even with that.

"It's okay, sweetie," I assure Spencer, placing his book beside me on the couch before moving to stand up. Taking his hands into mine, I pull him up with me, causing his sluggish body to slump against me. However, Spencer quickly takes this chance to wrap his arms around me and hold me closer to him as he gently sways us in his hold. For a few moments, I savor his touch until the thought occurs to me that if he falls asleep and goes down, I'm going down with him.

"Spencer, honey, let's get you to bed," I murmur to him, receiving a small nod against my neck in response. Still, it takes a few seconds for Spencer to pull his face away from my neck and part from my embrace, showing me Spencer was probably enjoying our embrace like me as well.

After walking to our shared room with Spencer nearly stumbling behind me, I help him change out of his work clothes and into just his boxers before turning to grab him his pajamas. However, before I can grab anything, I feel Spencer wrap his arms around me from behind. "Honey, let me grab your pajamas," I tell him with a small laugh as he almost whines.

"I'm okay, baby," He murmurs as he nuzzles his face into my neck like earlier. "Let's just get to bed," he adds. I can't help but simply nod at his words before turning and walking us over to our bed. As I pull the bed covers over, I feel Spencer begin to place light kisses down my neck. "I'll make it up to you for coming home so late~"

Shaking my head at his sudden mood change, I smirk at him before helping him lie down on our beige sheets and pulling the comforter over him despite his weak protests. "Tomorrow," I promise him, moving over to my side of the bed where I lie next to him. Without a second to spare, I feel myself become trapped in Spencer's arms just as he succumbs to a deep slumber. Spencer's soft snores from earlier return within seconds, making me slightly laugh to myself. He's so tired, it's like he's drunk - hence the sudden want for intimacy. I think I'll have a talk with Hotch tomorrow; he needs to stop sending my boyfriend home half-asleep and unsupervised.

#spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer x reader #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagines #criminal minds oneshot #criminal minds imagine #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler imagines #matthew gray gubler imagine #matthew gray gubler #short fic #drabble

[begko]

keep quiet. -seijoh 4

warnings: 18+ MDNI, poly, implied masturbation, implied sex(? I think), idk how to tag so lmk if there's anything else

contains: fem reader, seijoh 4 x reader (but mostly Matsukawa x reader and Hanamaki x reader)

wc: 1.2 k

a/n: I feel like there's not enough seijoh 4 fics out there so I decided to write one myself lol. This is my first fic so if anyone likes this I'll finish this and try to post more. Just ask and I'll lyk if I can do it!

Living in an apartment with four other boys never left your days feeling dull. Although you were all in your 20’s and supposedly more mature than your younger selves, they were still boys. 

They would each find ways to somehow piss you off, whether consciously or not. Dirty laundry in the living room, a bag of chips left open on the counter, or the loud moans of a random girl spilling through the crack in their bedroom door. These things wouldn’t typically leave you feeling so annoyed, but hearing a repeating “Yes Oikawa!” at 3 AM– the night before your abnormal psychology midterm may I add– was seriously starting to test your patience. 

Before you knew it, you found your feet gliding stomping down the hallway towards the brunette’s room, unknowingly drawing the other three to peek out from their own doors. 

“I SWEAR TO GOD TOORU. IF SHE DOESN’T SHUT UP YOU WILL NEVER SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY AGAIN.” You emphasized your threat by loudly pounding your fist on his door, then swiftly retreating back to your room, slamming your door for good measure. You put your earbuds back in and tried to focus on the music that filled your ears.

Thankfully, you eventually drifted to sleep, but the groggy feeling you had the next morning did not dissipate, even with the large coffee you had made. After fumbling with your keys for what seemed like forever, you were met with the faces of your roommates, all waiting to greet you. They each gave you a warm smile, which normally would brighten your mood a bit, but the sight of Tooru’s face made a frown appear on your face. Without a word, you disappeared into your room and threw yourself onto the bed, hoping to catch up on some sleep.

“What did I do?” Hajime immediately slapped the back of Tooru’s head in response. “You idiot! She had an exam today and you haven’t even apologized for keeping her up!” Hajime clicked his tongue in annoyance at his best friend. Tooru rubbed the back of his head to soothe the pain. “Well how do I make her forgive me? I didn’t know she had an exam!” 

Hajime merely shook his head, “Figure it out.” he said before going to check on you. As he opened your door, he found you– jeans and all – laying face-down on your bed. A groan of acknowledgement came from your figure, causing Hajime to let out a breathy laugh. “You okay?” 

“Headache.” Was all you managed to say before beckoning him to lay with you. He obliged, letting you roll over before laying on top of your half-made bed with you. He adjusted you both so your head would be comfortably caged in his arms, while you curled into his warmth.

“It’s alright, just get some sleep. I’ll stay with you, baby.” There it was. That nickname he gave you. It always put a smile on your face, this time no different, as you drifted off with your lips sleepily curled up at the corners.

While, yes, they were annoying at times, one could argue that they had a soft spot for you. They would often lay with you if they knew you wanted the company, just as Hajime was doing. When a boy would break your heart, you would find one of them waiting outside of your lecture hall with a bouquet of daffodils, ready to take you out to eat or to a club. With them, you never needed to watch cringey rom-coms while incessantly crying. They distracted you from the heartache, until it eventually melted away. And those nicknames, god, those nicknames. You were sure that they meant nothing, but the way that they locked eyes with you as they uttered ‘Princess’ or ‘Darling’ made your heart stop in ways that felt more than platonic. Sometimes, when you touched yourself in the dead of the night, you found yourself imagining them saying it, driving you to your climax. But you would never admit that to any of them. Just as they wouldn’t admit that you would sometimes let your moans get loud enough for them to hear, driving them to let their hands wander down beyond the waistbands of their boxers. They quickly chased their high, knowing that without the sweet noises of your pleasure seeping through the thin walls, they would be left unsatiated.

You awoke to the delicious smell of food wafting in from the kitchen. After stretching a bit, you opened your eyes to find Hajime no longer next to you. You followed the smell into the main area of your apartment, finding the boys sitting at the kitchen counter chatting while Tooru stood with a pink apron on. 

Your small laugh caused them all to turn their heads to wear you stood, a smile appearing on each of their faces. You walked up to them and put your hands on the counter, surveying the mess left on top of it.

“I made you your favorite! And before you say anything, I was just about to clean up.” That drew another giggle to fall from your lips. You mumbled out a ‘You better.” as Tooru wrapped his arms around your form. “I’m sorry for keeping you up last night, please forgive me?” 

“ Fine, just buy a gag for the next time you wanna bring one of them home.” The four laughed while you began to set the table.

After dinner, Tooru told you to put on a movie while the rest of them did the dishes and grabbed something sweet to snack on. You opted to take a quick shower before doing so and changed into a comfortable tank top and shorts. As you plopped down on the couch and simply chose to re-watch The Hunger Games, Hiro and Issei sat down on either side of you. Issei guided you between his legs, allowing your head to lay on his chest, as Hiro moved your legs into his lap. Hiro draped a blanket over your form, as you gave him a small smile of thankfulness. Soon after, Hajime and Tooru sat in the smaller armchairs and started the movie. 

You’ve seen this movie a million times, after all it was your favorite. But as you watched Katniss tie herself to a tree in an attempt to get some sleep, you began to grow bored. You shifted from your position, fidgeting in hopes of becoming comfortable again. “Sit still, pretty girl. I wanna know what happens next.” You heard Issei whisper into your ear. You freeze. For some reason, the mixture of the hot breath that you felt on your neck and the raspiness of his voice made your stomach form a knot. But it wasn’t until you felt Hiro’s hand start to slowly travel up the length of your leg that you finally realized what you were feeling. You felt hot, making you squirm even more. Issei’s arm snaked around your middle, holding you in place. “I said sit still. We’ll give you a reward if you’re good.” Suddenly it felt like your senses were heightened. The feeling of Issei’s arm and Hiro’s wandering hands made your breathing come to a halt. Is this a dream?

“Do you trust us, pretty girl?”

#seijoh 4 #matsukawa x reader #matsukawa #mattsun #hanamaki #hanamaki x reader #oikawa #Oikawa x reader #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi smut #haikyuu #aoba johsai #oikawa tooru #haikyuu oikawa #matsukawa issei #matsukawa smut #hanamaki takahiro #haikyuu hanamaki #oikawa smut #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader

[poisonlove]

Sorry... | j.o

It's a story set in a high school and revolves around Y/n, a lesbian student who has faced bullying and discrimination because of her sexuality. Her life takes an unexpected turn when Jenna, a popular and cruel girl, approaches her unexpectedly.

Summer vacation had just ended, and it was time to return to school. The sense of freedom and carefreeness I had enjoyed during the summer was fading, giving way to anxiety and worry about what awaited me in the new and fortunately final school year.

I walked to school, headphones in my ears playing the sweet sound of "Daylight" by David Kushner. The music enveloped me, trying to make me forget the impending start of a new school year, which I anticipated to be as disastrous as the previous ones.

I paused for a moment, taking in my surroundings. Leaves were slowly falling onto the grass, a sign that summer was gradually giving way to autumn. The temperatures were dropping, and the bus stop was as crowded as ever, with familiar faces. Looking around the neighborhood, I noticed subtle differences. The air was quieter than usual, with many people still asleep at this hour. Gray clouds covered the sky, giving the atmosphere a more melancholic feel.

I walked almost like a shadow, lost in my thoughts. A sigh of frustration escaped my lips as I thought about why I should endure this daily torture. Why should I endure the bruises from the taunts inflicted by the popular kids?

The truth is, there is a reason, even though there shouldn't be. I'm a lesbian. It's surprising how something so personal can become an issue for others, especially considering we're in the 21st century. I often wonder how my sexuality could affect anyone's life other than my own. It should be a personal matter, a part of who I am, but it seems that some people are obsessed with the idea that they should judge me for it. I didn't choose to be a lesbian; it's simply who I am, and it feels unfair that I have to bear the weight of others' prejudice and ignorance.

There's a sense of frustration in seeing the world move forward in many other areas but still having to face discrimination and bullying because of my identity. But despite it all, I'll continue to be myself and hope that one day the world can accept anyone, regardless of who we love.

I sigh deeply and shake my head, instinctively biting my lower lip as I walk. Confusion and frustration surround me, but I try to keep them at bay. My eyes turn towards the house in front of me, and a spontaneous smile spreads across my face when I see my best friend, Sofia Carson, coming out of her house with her backpack. It's a relief to see her, especially in moments like this.

Sofia is a girl with black hair and lively eyes that radiate enviable confidence. Her contagious smile and friendly personality make her a special person. As I get a little closer, I see Sofia running toward me with a radiant smile on her lips. Her black hair flows behind her as she approaches, almost as if her positive energy could brighten the whole day. She's my rock in this chaotic world, and her presence makes me feel stronger and less alone.

I remove my headphones and turn my attention to Sofia. "Hey, Sof. How was the trip?" I ask with a smile, trying to momentarily push away the thoughts that were tormenting me.

Sofia wraps an arm around my neck and leans her weight against my body.

"I missed you so much, you know?" she says, looking at me with bright eyes.

"We haven't seen each other for just two weeks," I murmur, amused.

"True... but the trip to Europe was great... I went to Italy!" she exclaims with enthusiasm.

"Is it true that everyone in Italy is beautiful?" I ask with curiosity, and Sofia huffs, nodding several times. Her reaction makes me laugh.

"Yes, it's true..." Sofia seems a bit embarrassed as she bites her lower lip, and I can't help but laugh again.

"And what have you been up to these past two weeks while I was gone?" Sofia asks timidly, and a shiver runs slightly down my spine. During that time, I experienced a panic attack and escalating depression, succumbing to the temptation of the razor blade. Unconsciously, I pull the sleeve of my leather jacket down to hide the scars.

"Oh, nothing special, you know," I reply, trying to smile. I don't want to worry Sofia with my problems, at least not right now.

Sofia looks at me out of the corner of her eye, seeming to doubt my words. My attempt to conceal what I've been through in the past two weeks doesn't seem convincing. Without even realizing it, we had already reached the gates of LA High School. We look at the imposing building, aware that another school year awaits us.

"Oh, did you hear? The new album by The Weeknd just came out!" Sofia exclaims with excitement. "Really? I didn't know!" I respond, surprised and relieved by the change of topic. "I'll have to listen to it when I get home."

A few steps ahead, as we gaze at the school panorama, Sofia returns to the subject. "I bet it's fantastic; his last album was amazing."

"I hope so," I say with a smile. "I like his music."

We exchange a few more words, but soon Sofia is called over by some of her friends in the distance. "Hey, y/n/n, want to come with me?" she asks, but I shake my head, feeling embarrassed. I don't want to add my discomfort to her social interactions, so I watch her walk away, hoping that my best friend can enjoy her day without the burdens I carry with me.

I put my headphones back on, and my smile quickly fades, replaced by the sadness that seems to inevitably return. As I pass through the school doors, anxiety grows within me.

But before I can take a step, two arms enter my field of vision, and I find myself quickly with my back against the lockers. The force of the impact makes me grit my teeth and hold back the tears, clenching my jaw to prevent a whimper from escaping my lips.

The perpetrator of my pain is Asher Spenser, the brown-haired guy and captain of the basketball team. "Look who we have here! And I was hoping not to see you until at least the last year," he says with a contemptuous smile.

"But at least I'll have something to take my frustration out on, you disgusting freak," he hisses through his teeth, his tone filled with hatred and ridicule. As I face yet another challenge in my day, I know I must find the strength to endure these cruel words and ongoing torment.

Asher sadistically laughs. "Without your little friend Sofia? She was always there to solve your problems."

His laughter is like a knife stabbing into my heart, and I feel increasingly isolated.

Then, with a boundless malevolence, he continues to whisper, "Even your best friend got tired of you... do everyone a favor... kill yourself."

His words are like daggers in the dark, hurting more than his physical actions. My jaw clenches as I try to hold back the tears, and humiliation and anger merge into a storm within me. But I know I can't let him see how much he's hurt me. I have to endure.

"What do you want, Asher?" I murmur weakly, hoping he'll go away.

"The disgusting lesbian suddenly found some courage!" he says sarcastically, and before I can react, he pushes me against the lockers again.

A female voice intervenes from a distance.

"Let her go, Ash." But Asher seems to ignore her. He presses my face against the locker, forcing me to turn my attention to the instigator of my torment, Jenna Ortega. She's the captain of the cheerleading squad and the leader of the popular group. Next to her is Cassie, her best friend, who's sipping on a smoothie.

"Stop looking at Cassie, a freak like you can't ogle my girlfriend," Asher slams my body against the lockers again, making me slide to the ground. His violence is palpable as I stand there, unable to react or defend myself. Anger and shame blend together as I feel the gazes of curious onlookers.

"Let her go, Ash," Jenna repeats, giving me a quick glance. Her request seems surprising given her involvement in my troubles. "Suddenly you're being nice to her?" Asher asks, looking puzzled. Jenna opens her mouth in indignation. "I can't stand her, you know that," she justifies herself, "it's just that some teachers are roaming the school, and if they catch you, you'll get detention."

Before I can get up from the ground, a liquid spills over my head. I feel completely dirty from what seemed to be a strawberry smoothie. With tear-blurred eyes, I look towards Cassie.

She then throws the empty cup at me, always wearing a smirk on her lips. Her laughter is malicious and cold, while Asher laughs heartily by her side. Jenna, on the other hand, has a strange look on her face, as if she's reflecting on what's happening.

Without thinking, I run to the bathroom, utterly embarrassed, just wishing to get rid of the sticky smoothie. My day has turned into a nightmare, and the only comfort I can find is in the privacy of the bathroom, where I can try to recover and hide my humiliation.

I dash towards the bathrooms with my head down, earning chuckles and looks of pity from some students who have stopped to witness the scene. My desperate run draws the attention and sympathy of those who see my condition.

I know a place where I can seek refuge. It's a bathroom located on the fifth floor, long abandoned by the school. The walls are faded and peeling, the floor is covered in dust. Mirrors are often cracked or scratched, and the air is filled with a gloomy and neglected atmosphere. It's a place where no one would bother to look for me, an isolated corner where I can hide my shame and try to regain a semblance of dignity. It's my secret sanctuary, away from prying eyes and the torment of bullies.

The first thing I do when I enter the bathroom is take off my leather jacket, leaving just the hoodie and top. I look at myself in the mirror, and my reflection fills me with disgust. Tears silently stream down my cheeks. Amidst the sobs, I turn on the faucet, letting the water flow. I bite my lower lip as I lean down, tilting my head to wet my hair, desperately trying to remove the sticky smoothie.

The cold water runs through my hair and down my skin, refreshing my flushed face. As I continue to rinse my hair, I hear a voice coming from the entrance of the bathroom.

"So, you were here when we couldn't find you," the voice says. I glance at myself in the mirror again, wondering why Jenna can't just leave me alone.

"What do you want, Jenna? You want to pull my hair? You want to dunk my head in the toilet?" I ask in frustration, challenging her. I've reached a point where I can't bear her cruelties without defending myself.

Jenna blinks in surprise, seemingly not expecting my reaction. Her expression, however, quickly turns into a disdainful sneer. Her skin is impeccably fair, and her black hair falls in soft waves. She's wearing a short skirt and a pink crop top that showcases her well-maintained figure. Despite her attractive appearance, her ruthless and cruel demeanor makes it hard to ignore how toxic she can be.

"I just wanted to know how you were," Jenna defends herself with what seems like a gentle tone, although her eyes betray a hint of sarcasm.

At that moment, I smile sarcastically too, unable to believe her words. I know all too well that behind this sudden concern lies another form of manipulation. Jenna excels at making her actions appear kind, only to strike even harder afterward. I won't be fooled by her.

"What do you want, Jenna?" I ask again, trying to understand her true intentions. Her eyes move along my wet body, following the path of water droplets running from my hair down my shoulders and down my body to my abdomen. It's an embarrassing sensation, feeling scrutinized like this.

"I told you, I wanted to know how you were," Jenna replies again, but this time, she seems to say it without sarcasm. Her sudden sincerity surprises me, but I remain cautious. I'm not sure if I can really trust her words, considering her history of cruelty.

"Come on, Jenna... we both know you're no saint," I say with a hint of venom in my voice.Jenna huffs with anger, evidently irritated by my challenge.

The tension between us is palpable, and even though it seems like she wants to be kind now, I can't forget all the pain she has inflicted on me in the past.

I'm cautious, but at least for now, it seems like she wants to stop tormenting me. Her eyes move along my body again, but this time, they linger on my arm. I shudder, realizing that someone has discovered my scars. My breathing becomes irregular as Jenna looks at me with confusion and panic.

"Do... do you hurt yourself?" Jenna asks, swallowing nervously. Her words hit me like a punch in the gut. I had never thought that someone would discover my darkest secret. Instinctively, I grab my jacket and put it on, wanting to cover my scars. At that moment, I don't care that I'm only wearing a top, as I have no intention of going to class, and I'll likely go home early.

Jenna approaches me, looking at my wrist covered by the jacket's sleeve. Her expression is hard to decipher, a mix of concern and confusion. I'm not sure what to make of this situation. I had never imagined having such a conversation with Jenna.

"Show me..." Jenna mutters and, without waiting for my response, takes my hand. Her nails delicately trace my skin before she lifts the jacket's sleeve. It's surprising how gentle she is in this moment. She places her hand around my scars, feeling their texture.

"Why do you cut yourself?" Jenna timidly asks.

"Isn't it obvious?" I respond with venom, anger boiling inside me.

"Listen..." Jenna starts, but I immediately cut her off. I have no desire to listen to her or explain my reasons.

"Sorry okay?" She say.

Consumed by anger, I approach her, and surprisingly, she doesn't move, almost challenging me with her gaze. "I don't need your pity... not after you've shown me your true colors all these years," I say with a whisper, my voice filled with anger.

I don't want her pity now, after everything I've been through. Jenna looks at me with tearful, shining eyes, but my heart is too full of pain and anger to accept her apologies so easily. "It was my only way..." Jenna mutters, her voice breaking, "...it was my only way to get close to you." Her confession surprises me deeply.

I had never imagined that her actions could be an attempt to get closer to me, even if it was in a strange and destructive way. My anger and pain mix with confusion as I try to understand her motivations.

"But what the hell..." I mutter instinctively, unable to believe what I'm hearing.

Jenna continues to speak, confessing her true motivations. "I was... I was so jealous of how you could be yourself without fear of others' reactions... You seemed happy... you were happy even though others looked at you strangely, knowing your sexual orientation..."

Jenna swallows nervously, visibly anxious but continues. "I... really like you, Y/n," she confesses, her words filling the air between us.

I'm taken aback by this revelation. I had never imagined that Jenna could have romantic feelings for me after everything she had done.

"Don't mock me..." I say with anger, my confusion and pain turning into rage. "If you really like me, you wouldn't have treated me that way."

Her past actions, her bullying, and her cruelties had been so damaging to me that it's hard to accept her words now. I'm not sure if I can trust Jenna, even though she seems to have opened up to me.

"Do I seem like an idiot to you?" I ask, watching Jenna shake her head.

"I saw how people looked at you... I was afraid that someone like me would be treated the same," she confesses sincerely.

"Just because you're a popular girl doesn't mean you can't fall for someone like me," I say sarcastically, my anger and frustration still palpable. Her admission is creating a mix of emotions in me, but I can't help but be skeptical of her intentions.

The situation is incredibly complicated.

"I'm really in love with you..." Jenna murmurs softly, placing her hand on my cheek. I close my eyes at her touch, feeling her nails on my skin. But Jenna's touch shakes me, and I quickly remove her hand from my face.

"You could have just been my friend... like Sofia..." I mutter, smiling sarcastically. "Now I need to leave; this situation is really unpleasant."

Without saying another word, I leave the room, leaving Jenna Ortega confused and alone.

And certainly, such a confession wasn't enough to erase what she had done.

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x fem!reader #professor #miércoles addams #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x you #wednesday addams x you #im sorry

[buckys-wintersoldier]

Candy Canes | Bucky Barnes

Pairing -> Best Friend!Bucky Barnes x Best Friend!Female!Reader

Summary -> Bucky wants to make candy canes with you but while you two make them he confesses his feelings for you.

Warnings -> (T) slight mention of smut things, fluff

Wordcount -> 1.2k

Prompt -> Fluffcember | Day 24 | “Okay, but I want to do that again. With you; only you” | Fandom-Free Bingo | G3 | “Like I said - I love you.” | @fandom-free-bingo

Request -> (anonymous) Hello!! I'm just wondering if you could write a fic for Christmas time where Bucky and Y/N make candy canes :) (yes you can make Candy Canes at home)

A/N -> Thank you for the request. I hope you like what I made with it. MARRY CHRISTMAS FOR Y’ALL. Thank you so much for the support and love. I really appreciate it and every one of you so much.💕

Divider made by @firefly-graphics.

Masterlist | Fluffcember | Fandom-Free Bingo | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

“Doll, are you here?” He asks and looks through the door. And when he sees you, his eyes immediately brighten, and the smile on his face becomes bigger. There he is, your best friend, James Buchanan Barnes. “Hey, Buck,” you say, and look at him, his eyes, his lips, and his hands, which hold the door frame.

“I thought we could make some candy canes today,” he says, walking closer to the table in front of you. You smile, and he places his bag on the chair before he walks around the table and presses his body against yours. “Have you done that before?” He asks, and you shake your head. “No, I wasn’t sure if I could do them by myself at home." You giggle when his breath meets your skin, and his soft stubbles brush over the sensitive skin of your neck.

He lets go of you, and you immediately miss the warmth of his body. Bucky walks back to his bag and puts some ingredients on the table. “Me neither, but Steve told me about it, and I thought I would try it with my favorite person,” he says, looking for some more things the two of you need. You just look at him; your smile grows when you realize the words, but at the same time, you know he is just your best friend, and you're just that for him. “Want to help me or stare at me the whole day?” He asks with a chuckle.

You immediately blush and rub the back of your neck before you try to focus on the candy canes. “I don’t mind staring at you the whole day, but I like some sweets too,” you say with a grin on your lips, and you walk to him, so you stand next to him and look at the ingredients he brought.

“Know why you need sweets?” He asks, but you shake your head. “Because you’re so sweet,” he giggles, and you blush again. You don’t know what to say, so you just grab some things off the counter and place them on the other things on the table.

Bucky has a paper in front of him and reads it; you can’t stop looking at him. Especially not when he is focused; every time he is, he plays with his hair and bites his bottom lip, which looks really hot. Then he lets go of his bottom lip for a moment, just to let his tongue glide over his lips.

He feels the gaze in him and smiles softly when he looks up, and you cough to hide that you stared at him again. “Looks like you can’t stop looking at me,” he teases. “I just wanted to wait until you’re ready with reading,” you say, and take the sugar to have something else to do instead of staring at him.

You look at him, and he nods, shoving the paper in the middle of the two of you, and you read it as well. A lot of sugar, a bit of water, more sugar, and have you already mentioned sugar? Definitely more sugar.

You pull the bowl closer and look for the amount of sugar you need. Meanwhile, Bucky looks at how much water you need for the candy canes and fills it into a big glass. After putting both into the bowl, you have a lot of sugar and water, and you’re focused on it. You almost relax when you see the water letting the sugar melt.

“We need to cook that, then we have it as one good mixture,” Bucky says, reading out loud what Steve wrote. “And that can work? I mean, we need something that is hard then." He asks and looks at you in confusion. You smile widely and bite your lip to not just burst out laughing.

But Bucky sees the way you smile and recognizes your gaze. “Don’t even think about it. We’re not going to make him hard and put him on sugar. It could be so hard to clean it, especially when it gets hard around my dick,” he says, placing his hands in front of his pants. You burst out laughing now. “I could help you,” you offer, and he immediately blushes.

Your eyes widen slightly when you recognize the red on his cheeks. Not able to focus on the candy canes, you walk a step closer to him. Your hands find their way to his cheeks, and you capture them, making him look down at you. “Why are you blushing? Do you like to hear me tell you I would do it?” You whisper, and his jaw clenches.

“Do you want me underneath you? Like best friends with benefits?” You ask, and his lips slide over his lips again. His eyes are blue like the ocean, and he is thinking about his answer to that question. “I don’t want you just like that, doll. I want you to be mine. I want to love you, sleep with you, wake up next to you, and bring you breakfast. I love you, the kind of love where we are going to marry and become a family,” he mumbles quietly, and your smirk widens when you hear him telling you all you feel for him too.

“You want to marry and have kids?” Is this the first thought in your head after his confession of his feelings for you? “With the right person, yes. And you’re the right one for me. Like I said - I love you,” he says and leans closer, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing you closer against him. “Can I kiss you?” He asks, and you nod.

Bucky smiles and presses his lips softly on yours. Moving them slowly and giving you the most wonderful feeling rushing through your body. After a moment, you both catch your breath, but he holds you still, pressed against him, and looks at you with a wide smile. “I love you too, Buck. And I would love to marry you one day and become a family,” you mumble and lean your head against him, enjoying the warmth of his body.

“Let’s do the candy canes, and then we eat them while we watch a movie with hot chocolate?" He asks, and you immediately nod and turn back to the table with the candy canes. Bucky stands behind you, his arms wrapped around you, and he looks over your shoulder.

You put the other ingredients into the sugar and water mixture and let it cool. It doesn’t take long after that when you have the candy canes finished. Bucky’s fingers are stuck with the mixture, and he touches your cheek to glue himself onto you, and laughs. "Now you are stuck with me, you’re mine now,” he says, and you laugh. “Okay, but I want to do that again. With you; only you,” you whisper and he nods, smiling.

Bucky makes some hot chocolate while you clean a bit, and then the two of you are sitting on the couch, both of you with a cup of hot chocolate and a candy cane in your hand. You sit in Bucky’s lap, and your back is against his stomach while your head lays on his shoulder. You two watch the Grinch, and you can’t stop thinking about Grumpy Bucky as the Grinch.

“You would be a cute grinch,” you tell him, and he tickles you softly. You burst out laughing and try to escape his tickles, but he just wraps his arms around you and presses you more against him. Kissing your neck softly.

Taglist: @nicoline1998enilocin | @sergeantbarnessdoll | @ergle-barnes | @km-ffluv | @kandis-mom | @lives-in-midgard | @bucky-barnes-lover | @felicitylemon | @sweater-bee | @identity2212 | @cjand10 | @bookishtheaterlover7 | @harleycao

#mcu #marvel #marvel mcu #bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x yn #james bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x fem reader #bucky x yn #bucky x reader fanfiction #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fluff #james barnes x y/n #james barnes x you #james barnes x reader #bucky fluff #bucky x you #bucky x female yn

[cremsie]

hi! omg your sketches look soooo good and crisp 😭

if it's ok to ask, do you scan them? or use some editing after?

Let me show you!

Start out with just a picture in as clear and even lighting as you can! Try to make sure you don’t angle it so it’s bigger on the top or bottom by holding your phone flat. (Try to avoid having your shadow over the drawing at all, neutral lighting helps and no big direct lights behind you when you take the photo)

Then let’s change the filter (this is for iPhone but let’s assume you can edit the photo in another app too)

Vivid is my go to

Then next I focus on these three filters especially

A bit of contrast and maybe some exposure to brighten up the image works as well!

Then finally boom!

Something a bit brighter and funkier to edit into any final piece

You can of course edit the filters more to your liking if you want to keep the original colors and whatnot but I myself love some bright pop!

The same works for plain sketches too and I find really makes them stand out and super crisp.

#art #my art #creme answers

[avastrasposts]

A Baker's Dozen**

Another Pedro boy returns to the bakery universe, one that I had to give a second part because of how I left it. It took me a bit of time to write this one because it was threatening to turn into a whole series, but I want to keep the bakery AU a collection of short, fluffy stories so I contained myself at 8k....

There will be smut, soft Pedro boy, sourdough references and mentions of blood.

Every morning you check your jewelry box, look for your grandmother’s wedding band. And every morning it’s missing. You cling to that small truth. The wedding band is missing and that means Pero wasn’t a dream. He took it with him when he disappeared, and somehow it remained with him until his death, if the news article about the 11th century grave containing a 20th century ring is to be believed. 

You miss him. You miss him so much it hurts even though he was in your life for just a few hours. He was like no other person you’d met, and not only because he was from the 11th century. You have to stop yourself and think, was he really from the 11th century? Could it have been a trick? You almost wish it had been, because that would mean that he’s still here, in your time. You’d forgive him for tricking you, if only it meant you could see him again. 

But you never see him again, even though you look at every person you pass in the street. And when it storms, when thunder and lighting rolls in over the city, you can’t stay indoors. In your little car you scour the streets, the highways, the back alleys, looking for a dark haired man in strange clothes trying to make his way back to you. But a year passes, and you tell yourself you have to stop looking. The next time it storms you curl up in bed and try to remember every detail about him, from the viscous looking scar across his eye, to the softness of his lips. But you don't go looking for him, you force yourself to stay in bed. 

You fall asleep and dream about him, and it’s like you’re awake. You stretch in your bed, the soft morning light spilling through the curtains onto the other side of the bed where the sheets have been tossed aside. The smell of coffee drifts through the house and when you sit up, gold glimmers on your left hand. With wonder you twist the wedding band around your finger and suddenly you know who’s clattering around downstairs. In only your nightie you run downstairs and almost skid into the kitchen, and there he is. As dark haired and broad as you remember him, his eyebrows pulled together in concentration as he pokes the eggs in the pan. 

“Hermosa, you’re up! I was going to bring you breakfast in bed,” he huffs with a smile as he sees you and you hurry across the kitchen to wrap yourself around him when he turns and holds out his arms for you. 

With a jolt you jerk awake, your bedroom dark and cold and the dream fading as longing wells up inside you. You hold up your left hand and it’s as bare as it was when you went to bed and you can’t help the tears that well up, a sob wracking your body. 

Thunder rolls through the sky above your house and a flash of lightning briefly brightens your room. Before your mind has even considered it, your body has carried you out of the bed, and you’re running down the stairs, fumbling with the lock on your backyard sliding door. Wrenching it open, you hurl yourself out into the rain, shouting his name. 

“Pero! Pero!” 

In an instant you’re soaked, your pajama pants and t-shirt sticking to your body as you spin in place, searching for someone you deep down know isn’t there. 

“Pero…” you choke, sinking down on your knees in the grass, digging your fingers into the soggy surface, deep breaths heaving your chest as grief turns to rage.  

“Bring him back to me!” you scream, “Bring him back! Bring him back!” 

You pound your fists into the ground, screaming at the universe for letting you fall so fast and so hard, and then taking him away. Your voice rips, cursing all the gods for their cruelty, demanding that whoever is in charge brings him back to you. 

But the universe remains indifferent to your pain, your rage. The rain continues to fall, the thunder rumbles and nothing changes. 

Eventually you’re forced back onto your feet, shivering in your wet sleepwear. You turn and look around your garden one last time, as empty as always. You look back to the house, biting back a sob and a lightning flash illuminating the dark windows, and you stumble. The mud under your hands squelches as you smack down into it, splattering your shirt and face and you have half a second to think about how you don’t have mud in your backyard. 

“Down!” 

A man shouts right behind you, a hard hand forcing you down to the ground, and then he charges forward. You glance up, confused, and see three men readying for battle, sharp swords lifted in fighting positions. In front of them, a fourth man stands, the one who shoved you down, his own two swords lifted and twirling effortlessly in his hands. 

It’s a blur, the rain is still pelting down, the trees above you cast strange shadows, and the dark haired man moves so fast it turns into a blur. Dim light glints off his blades, but then one sinks deep into the chest of the first man, while the other slices open the throat of the second, and the swords are dulled by the thick liquid that coats them. The third man staggers backwards, dropping his own sword, but it’s pointless, he chokes as a sword slips through his neck. 

The fourth man stops, his back turned, swords raised as if he’s waiting for another attack. When none comes, he slowly turns and you stumble to your feet, wiping your muddy hands on your wet pants. You already know it’s him, who else would it be? But seeing his face floods your heart, both fear and love fights for space. Love for the man, fear that he won’t know you. But then he takes four long steps towards you, his blades sliding into their scabbards, and he’s on you. Hands cup your face, his mouth claims yours in a hard kiss and you almost stumble again, wrapping your arms around him. Your teeth clash, his lips will bruise yours, and his fingers dig into your jaw but all you want is for him to hold you tighter. 

“You’re here,” he mutters, still pressed against your lips, “you’re real.” 

“You’re real too,” you sob, tears welling up in your eyes for the umpteenth time this confusing night, and Pero kisses your cheeks, drying them with his thumbs. 

“I have so much to ask you, but now we must run, hermosa. Those men did not come alone and I can’t fight them all. Come!”

He takes your hand and hurries through the underbrush, leading you to a clearing where a horse is tied to a tree. 

“Can you ride?” he asks, giving you a hand up in the saddle. 

“Yes, but it was a long time ago,” you reply as he swings himself up behind you. 

“Just grip on to him with your legs, I won’t let you fall,” Pero says, gathering the rains and urging the stallion forward. He has one arm around your waist, one hand holding the reins and you can feel his legs guide the horse underneath you both. Soon you’re out on the road and riding hard, Pero urging his horse to pick up speed as your old skills come back to you. You rock with the rhythm of the horse’s gait, holding on to the pommel. Pero sweeps his heavy wool cloak around you both, trapping his body heat close to you. 

“You’re shivering, hermosa,” he mutters, just audible over the drum of the hoofs, “Of all the times to appear…” 

You can’t judge time, but Pero keeps the horse at a steady canter for what feels like an eternity. Not until dawn breaks and a small town comes into view does he slow down. The storm still rages and you are both soaked to the bone.  

“There is a good inn here, I’ll get us a room,” he says, “get us warm and dry.” 

“Are we safe now?” you ask with a yawn, the adrenaline is wearing off and you feel your eyes getting heavy despite the shivers that wrack your body. 

“Yes, bandits won’t follow into towns as big as this one,” he replies, tightening his grip on you, “And you’re safe with me, hermosa.” 

You just nod, your eyes widening as the horse slows to a walk and you ride through a large gate in the solid stone wall. The streets are fairly empty but some people are moving about, starting the day as the rain continues to fall. Your nose wrinkles as the smell hits you, the pong of dung from any number of animals, food scraps, unwashed clothes, human waste mixes with the aroma of fresh bread, food cooking and wood fires. 

“Where are we?” you ask, watching a young boy drive three pigs down the street and towards the gate. 

“Provins, in France,” Pero replies, “It’s a good town, I’ve been through here many times.” 

“When are we?” you ask in a lower voice, turning your head so that you can whisper in his ear. 

“1033,” he replies, “I ask every priest I meet these days, just in case.” He gives you a small smile, the fine lines around his eyes crinkling, “I cannot believe you are here, I’ve been looking for so long.” 

“You were looking for me?” 

“I could not figure out how to get back to you, so I thought perhaps you might be able to follow,” he says, “How did you do it?” 

“I don’t know,” you reply, honestly, “I was looking for you too, every storm I went out looking for you but nothing never changed. Then last night there was another storm and I was shouting at the sky to bring you back, but nothing happened. When I was soaked and cold I turned to go back to the house and the next thing I knew, I was face down in the mud.” 

“Maybe you will go back just as suddenly,” Pero says, his voice low, “but I will keep you safe until then, like you kept me safe in your world.” 

He turns the horse into the stable yard of an inn and halts. 

“Here, keep the cloak wrapped tight around you, do not show the clothes underneath to anyone,” he says, making sure you are covered, before he swings himself off the stallion. He helps you down, carrying you to the threshold of the inn when he realizes you have no shoes on. 

“Wait here, I will get the stable boy to take care of Guerrero.” 

He’s back after just a minute, the saddle bags slung over his shoulder, shaking his wet hair out of his eyes. Wrapping his arm around your waist, he pushes the door of the inn open with the other. The innkeeper looks over at the two of you and instantly recognizes Pero. 

“Tovar! My old friend! Come in, come in, so good to see you!” he calls, making his way through the mostly empty inn. 

“Guiscard, it’s been a while,” Pero replies, clasping hands with the man. “I would like you to meet my wife, we were caught in the storm and I need a room and hot water if you can. I need her to warm up.”

Guiscard looks surprised at the mention of a wife, slapping Pero on the shoulder with a booming laugh. 

“A wife, Tovar? You have been gone a long time! Madam, I hope this scoundrel makes you very happy,” he says the last at you with a wide, friendly, grin and you give him a weak smile in return. “And because this man saved my life and my livelihood, I will make sure you have the best room and plenty of hot water brought up. Come, this way.” 

The innkeeper leads the two of you up a flight of stairs and to a room at the end of the hallway. You all but stumble over the high threshold and Pero steadies you. 

“Merci, Guiscard,” he says, “I will be down in a little bit to speak with you.” 

“Of course, of course, take care of your wife first, Tovar, no rush.” 

He closes the heavy wooden door behind him as he leaves and Pero guides you to the bed, big enough for two, in the middle of the room. 

“I will get the fire lit but you should take off your wet clothes and get into bed. I have a spare shirt for you to change into but I will go out in a little while and arrange for new clothes for you,” he says, peeling back the heavy quilt on the bed. 

“I need to wash, I’m covered in mud,” you say, looking down at your bare feet, your hands and forearms dirty too. 

“Guiscard will send the maid up with hot water,” Pero kneels by the fireplace as he speaks, “you can warm up and get clean.” 

“What about you?” you ask, looking at the water dripping off Pero’s armor and pooling on the rushes that cover the floor, “You need to get dry too.” He soon has the fire roaring and you move closer to it, the warmth making your cold body shiver again. 

“I’m used to being soaked, but I’ll dry off when I know you are taken care of,” he says, unbuckling his armor and swords before pulling a dry shirt from his pack. 

“Take that off, hermosa,” he urges you again, “and put this on.” He hands you the large shirt, big enough to be a dress on you. “You can change behind the screen,” he says, pointing to the corner where a part of the room is shielded from view. “Clean up, and I’ll go see Guiscard about getting some food.” 

“Pero, wait,” you take hold of his arm, his wet shirt sticking to his skin, “I…I don’t know how long I have here, don’t leave yet. You only stayed a couple of hours in my time and it’s already been the whole night.” 

There’s a clap of thunder outside as if to illustrate how precious your time is, and you flinch, your grip on Pero’s arm tightening. He glances over at the window where the rain is pelting against the shutters, and then looks back at you, covering your hand on his arm with his own. 

“You’re right, I’ll stay, I’ll send the maid.”

“Then get dry, and I’ll clean up,” you say, reluctantly letting go of Pero’s arm, “and hopefully I won’t vanish too soon.”

Pero gives you a small, crooked smile, but you feel like it mirrors your own churning insides. You have so many questions for Pero, you want to spend so much time with him, and you feel like every second could be your last before you’re pulled back again. 

There’s a knock on the door and Pero lets the maid in, taking two buckets and a jug from her. Sending her back to the kitchen for food and drink, he fills the wash basin with the water and you roll up the long sleeves on Pero’s shirt. 

Quickly you wash the mud off your feet and arms, scrubbing the skin with the cloth the maid left. Behind you, you hear Pero’s wet clothes come off and he hangs them over a rack in the corner. When you crawl under the quilts in the bed he’s lacing up a dry pair of breeches and you’re momentarily mesmerized by the sight of his bare torso. He’s lean and muscular, as you expected by the way his body felt against yours. But you hadn’t thought he’d have so many scars, even a fresh one, still pink, running down his bicep. His chest has a viscous looking gash across the right side, on his shoulder sits an uneven knot of scar tissue, and another thin scar slithers down his side. It’s a map, a visual reminder of how violent his life is, and you’re reminded again of how easily he’d killed the three men when you first arrived. 

Pero ties the strings and looks up, meeting your gaze, catching you staring at his chest. He scowls, the first time you’ve seen him fall back into the face that was almost permanent on him when you first met. 

“Do they disgust you?” he asks, his voice a low growl and eyebrows pulled tight together.  

“What? No!” you sputter, “No, not at all!” You put your hand out towards him, reaching for him, but he’s too far away. “I was just thinking how different your life is from mine, how much more violent yours seems. Please, Pero…” You leave your hand out, pleading with him to come closer, and he hesitates for a few seconds, and then he moves, taking your hand and letting you pull him onto the bed. 

“No?” he asks, sinking down on the mattress, “you’re not repulsed by it?” 

You shake your head, trying your hardest to not trace your fingers across the scar on his chest. 

“You asked the same thing about the scar on your face and I said no then too.” 

“Your world is so clean and orderly, mine is dirty and violent,” he says, his hand still wrapped around yours. You can feel the rough calluses on it and the stroke of his thumb over your skin. 

“People still have scars,” you reply, glancing down over his chest again. How do you tell him now that you’re not really looking at his scars after all, but at the way his wide shoulders seem to dwarf you, and how the dark hairs on his stomach are tantalizing you with the way they disappear beneath the edge of his breeches. 

A flash of lightning brightens the dim room, thunder following only a few seconds behind, and you jump. Pero grabs you, both hands flying to your arms and digging into your flesh, and you’re suddenly pressed against him, your nose only inches from his. You know your eyes are wide as saucers as you stare into his dark brown pools, and he exhales, loosening his grip on you slightly. 

“I wonder if I’ll come with you if I hold you when you disappear,” he whispers as your arms wrap around him.

“Do you want to go back?” you ask and Pero shrugs. 

“I wanted to go back to find you again, now that you’re here, I don’t care, just as long as you don’t disappear again.” 

He pulls back the quilts and tries to tuck you in but you stop him. 

“If I’m your wife for only one day, then I want to share the bed with you, Pero,” you say, giving him a small smile as his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. 

“We’re not really married, hermosa, you’d share your bed with me anyway?” he asks, but he’s already folding, letting you pull him down into the bed, he doesn’t seem to have any will to resist. 

“Married or not, it doesn’t really matter in my time. My reputation won’t be ruined by sleeping in the same bed as a man who’s not my husband.” 

“I think I like your time better than mine,” Pero grins at you as you get comfortable next to him. 

“I like whatever time you’re in, Pero,” you smile at him, reaching up and gently stroking your finger across the scar on his face, making him briefly close his eyes. Another flash of lightning brightens the room, making you jump and Pero pulls you in tight as his eyes fly open again. 

“No leaving yet, hermosa,” he mumbles and you nod. 

“No leaving yet.” 

He’s so close, his worried eyes looking down at you, and you can see every shade of brown in his irises, the dark eyelashes casting shadows on his cheeks as his warm breath touches your lips. Without thinking, you close the gap and kiss him, his soft lips parting as you touch them. The first kiss, the one in the forest when he first saw you, was hard, leaving bruises on your lips. This one is delicate, tentative, there is time to explore. Or at least you hope there is time, the thunder is still rumbling outside, it sits at the back of your mind that every second could be your last with him. Pulling him down, settling his weight on top of you, you make him wrap his arms around you, as you bury your fingers in his still damp hair. His body is warm, almost hot, driving the chill from your bones as he continues to kiss you, his tongue tasting your mouth as a small moan escapes. Pero pulls back a little at that, suddenly smiling down at you. 

“You like that, hermosa?” he chuckles in a low, hushed voice. 

“I do, I like your kisses a lot,” you reply, pulling him down again and he comes willingly with a wide smile. He nips at your bottom lip, chuckling against you when you moan again, before he continues his exploration. You can feel him grow hard against your leg, his well worn breeches doing nothing to contain his arousal. Shifting your body under him, you make sure your thigh brushes over his cock, and you’re rewarded with a strained groan from him. It makes you giggle and Pero growls at you as he pushes himself up a little. 

“You tease me, mujer,” he smirks, rolling his hips, “but I can tease you too, if you want to play that game.” 

“I’d love to play that game, Pero,” you reply, trying to pull him back down over you. But you’re interrupted by a knock on the door, the maid has returned with food. 

“We’re continuing this soon,” he smirks at you, pushing himself off the bed and going to the door while you burrow deeper into the quilts. 

You hear Pero thank the maid, and the smell of food wafting through the room makes you sit back up as he closes the door. Your belly rumbles, reminding you that it’s been many hours since you last ate, your dinner was in a whole other millennium even.

“Come, hermosa, eat something, I can hear your belly across the room,” Pero chuckles, and you join him at the small table by the fire. The maid has brought a pot of stew, bread and bowls. 

“I told them to give us bowls, not trenchers,” Pero says, “I didn’t think you’d be used to eating on them.” 

“Anything is fine, Pero, I’m really hungry,” you say, watching him ladle the stew for you. 

“Then eat, maybe not as good as that stew you served, but hunger usually makes the best seasoning.” 

You both devour the stew, scoping it up with chunks of the bread. You can’t help but stop and inspect it, your baker brain analyzing the loaf. It’s clearly sourdough, stone milled of course, a mix of rye and wheat you think. But the grain, you realize, is probably a variety that no longer exists in your time and the flavor is rich and nutty, tasting much more than any bread you’ve ever produced. You’re suddenly intrigued, and the thought hits you that maybe you’ll have time to visit a bakery here. 

Pero watches you with a small smile as you smell the bread and test the crumb between your finger tips. 

“I can see your mind working, hermosa,” he chuckles, sucking the last of the stew off his fingers and leaning back in the chair. 

“I was thinking about visiting a bakery, it’d be amazing to see. Do you think it’d be safe to go?” 

“Sure, I’ll keep you safe, of course. Just refrain from mentioning your big cold box or metal kitchen and you’ll be fine and not accused of witchcraft,” he winks and you widen your eyes. You hadn’t even considered the possibility of being considered a witch. 

“I’ll have to keep my mouth shut,” you say, “or I might accidentally say something very wrong.” 

“You’ll be fine, if we even get that far,” Pero says, shaking his head, “You’ve been here many hours now, I don’t like it, but I think you’ll probably be leaving soon.” 

As if the thought has reminded him, he gets up and takes your hand, leading you back to the bed. 

“Do you still have the ring?” you ask, suddenly realizing it’s not hanging around his neck as the article had mentioned. 

“I do, it’s in my pouch,” he replies, grabbing the leather bag that had been on his belt, and pulling it out, “Do you want it back? I didn’t mean to take it from you.” 

You close his fist around the ring as he holds it out to you, and then sit down on the bed. 

“No, you should keep it. I…” you being, looking up at Pero as he sinks down on the bed next to you, still holding the ring. He’s so alive. Of course he’s alive, warm and real and yet you know where he will be buried and the thought makes your throat close up and you stare at his hand. He senses your unease and tilts your head up, two fingers under your chin. 

“Something troubles you, tell me, hermosa,” he says, pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear, as you sigh. 

“When you disappeared, I wasn’t sure what had happened was real. I thought maybe I was losing my mind, or that you’d played a trick on me. But then I saw an article, news written on paper, about how historians in my time had unearthed a grave from your time, from this time. And the man in the grave was wearing the ring on a chain around his neck.” 

Pero nods and gets off the bed, reaching for the leather pouch again. 

“This chain?” he asks, holding up a thin gold chain, one of the links broken. 

“I think so, it matches the description,” you reply, running it between your fingers. 

“I had the ring on the chain, but it broke a week ago. I was planning on having it mended while in Provins.” 

You both sit in silence for a while, Pero holds the ring and you hold the chain, both lost in thought as the time between the two of you is so clearly illustrated by the two objects.  

“Your historians,” Pero asks finally, “Did they say how old the man in the grave was?” 

“No, only that he was from the 11th century.” 

“And did it say where the grave was?” 

“Sevilla,” you reply, looking up at Pero who nods. 

“Then I am never going to Sevilla,” he says, a small smile on his face as the corners of his lips curl up. 

“Keep it,” you say, passing the chain back to Pero, “ and keep the ring on you, maybe you have to go to Sevilla sometime, don’t avoid it, I shouldn’t have told you.” 

“It’s a strange feeling, knowing where I die,” he says, putting the chain and ring back in the pouch. “And knowing I’ll die so many hundreds of years before you.” He sits back down on the bed as you crawl under the covers, scooting over to give him room as he joins you. 

“It’s a very strange feeling, I’ll go back and you…” you trail off, feeling your eyes well up, and Pero pulls you in, his arms wrapping around you so that your head is on his chest, as a long shaky breath comes from you. 

“You go back and when you’re in your time, I’m dead,” he says in a low voice, “I thought the same when I came back, except I knew you weren’t even born yet, and I would die many hundreds of years before you.” 

“It’s not fair,” you mumble as he strokes your back and you hear his steady heartbeat under ear. 

“Do you wish I hadn’t come to your bakery?” he asks, his voice low, and you hear the doubt in it. Pushing yourself up so that you can look down at his dark eyes, you shake your head. 

“No, not at all, not even a little. I’ve missed you so much, and I’ll be heartbroken when I go back, but I wouldn’t have it undone. We haven’t even spent that much time together but…you’re special to me, Pero.”

“You’re special to me too,” he replies, resting his hand on your cheek as you lean your forehead against his, “I hope you get to stay with me a little while longer. Sleep now, hermosa, the storm is over and I’ll be here when you wake up, I promise.” 

“You can’t promise that,” you whisper as he moves you down to lie on his arm again, resting your cheek against his chest. 

“I promise it anyway,” he mumbles, his hand resumes its soothing motion up and down your back and you close your eyes, finally succumbing to the long sleepless night behind you. 

When you stir, hours later, you think you’re still in a dream. The roasting warm body behind you, a protective arm tight around your torso, legs tangled together, and his puffs of air against your ear, it all still feels too dreamlike. But your movements have woken him and he mumbles, half asleep, words you can’t understand, his arm pulling you tighter against his solid form. Slowly your mind catches up, the storm, yelling at the sky outside your house, falling in the mud and Pero’s sudden appearance. The ride, the inn and now, the bed, with Pero curled around you, it’s not a dream. 

Moving inside his arms, turning so that you face him, you giggle at his big yawn as he wakes up properly. 

“You’re still here,” you smile, wrapping an arm around his neck, and pulling him in for a kiss, morning breath be damned, it’s not like either of you will find a toothbrush here. 

“You’re still here,” he mumbles against your lips, “I thought I was dreaming.” 

“Me too,” you whisper, “but I’m still here and you’re still here.” 

“Siempre, mi amor,” he breathes, pulling you against his mouth, both arms around your back, his hand cupping the back of your head. It’s like he needs to reassure himself that you're still here, not a dream or a vision. And you feel the same, relishing the smell of the wood fire and the rushes on the floor, the unfamiliar noises from outside the room, all proving that you’re still in Pero’s time, with him. 

The kisses turn heated, arousal begins to thrum through your body as you feel Pero’s hard length against your hip, the kisses you share growing needy. He tries to hide his erection, pulling back from you, but you grab his hips and roll him over you, settingling his weight between your thighs. Pero groans into your mouth before he lifts himself up a little. 

“Cariño, don’t tempt me, I am only human.” 

“I want you, Pero,” you whisper with a smile, “you’re my husband, aren’t you? And we didn’t finish what we started before.” 

“You are sure?” he asks, but even as he does, you’re pulling him even closer, and one of his hands grips your thigh, soft flesh under his rough fingers. 

“Very sure,” you mumble against his mouth, as he groans and rolls his hips into your core. His hand slips further up your leg, finding only warm skin, gripping your waist and pushing up your shirt. It gets bunched up around you, so you let go of him and tug it over your head, revealing to Pero that you’ve got nothing underneath, and he groans again. 

“Beautiful,” he mutters, the soft scratch of his scruffy beard dragging over your neck as he begins a trail of wet kisses down your chest. His hand leaves your waist and gently closes over one of your breasts as his mouth closes over the nipple of the other. You can feel him grinding into the bed beneath you, and you reach down, twining your fingers in his short curls, wild from sleeping. The scratch of your fingers in his hair seems to make him melt, he flicks his tongue over your breast in lazy strokes, slowly caressing the other one as he rests his head on your chest. 

“Cariño,” he mumbles, his mouth pressed against your skin, “you’re so soft, tan suave...” he trails off, groaning as he buries his face against your breast, drawing a deep breath. 

“Pero, come here,” you whisper, tugging gently at his hair, making him lift his head and make his way back up to your mouth. His hand slips between your legs, caressing you softly, coating his fingers with your silky liquid, and each moan he pulls from you, makes him kiss you harder. 

You’re not sure what you’d expected from Pero in bed, a rough mercenary from the 11th century. To be honest, you might’ve thought that he’d need a bit of education in how to make you feel good, that norms in this time dictated that the man’s pleasure was the only thing that counted. But he proves you wrong, maybe he is the exception. Because he slides his fingers through your slick folds and circles your clit with his thumb, finding it without guidance and treats it gently, watching your face as he teases the sensitive nerves. Gently he pushes a finger deep inside and curls it back in the most delicious way. When you buck your hips into his hand, he chuckles, a deep low rumbling in his chest as he presses more kisses to your mouth. 

“Pero..” you moan, gasping as he slips in a second finger, “fuck…please…” 

“Please what?” he asks, the smirk in his voice evident even to your hazy mind, as he continues to move his fingers in and out of your heat. 

It makes you laugh, a breathless, half moaned laugh, at his cocky tone. He’s good, and he knows it. 

With a swift movement he pushes himself up and moves down your body, pushing your legs apart, making room for his broad shoulders. Before you have time to react, his hot mouth closes over your clit, his fingers still driving into you and curling back. He eats your pussy almost ferociously, burying his face and lapping long strokes before returning to your clit. 

Your body all but arches off the bed, and he grabs your hip with his free hand, chuckling into you. When your high hits, you throw your head back and gasp his name, throat raw as he works you through it, prolonging every shudder and tremble your body gives him. He releases his grip once your breathing returns to normal, and slowly works his way up your body, trailing sloppy kisses over your torso. Against your leg and then your hip, you can feel his steely hard cock, twitching as he hisses at the friction. 

“Pero,” you mumble, wrapping your legs around his hips and reaching down, closing your hand around him, “I want you inside me now.” 

He mumbles something incoherent under his breath as you coat the length with the liquid leaking from the tip, his breath catching, thrusting into your closed fist. The feel of him notching at your entrance causes you to tremble, and Pero takes your hand, pressing it down into the mattress next to your head as he begins to push in. 

“Does it feel good, esposa?” he asks, his voice low and strained, his jaw tight as he sets a languid pace, “Do I feel good inside you?”

You nod, hooking your legs up around his waist, urging him deeper, “Faster, Pero, faster, please, I can’t…” 

The snap of his hips forces the breath out of your lungs and it makes you laugh, a breathless giggle that turns into a moan as he does it again, his own face splitting into a wide grin. 

“So good,” he groans, half a chuckle in his voice too, “you feel so good, just as I thought, fuck…” he buries his head against your neck as he drives his hips into you, sliding in and out at a fast pace, breathing hard against your skin. “Thought about this so many nights, hermosa. Having you…having you back, with me, making…” He hisses as you squeeze down around him, you can feel the short, wiry hairs rub against your clit when he angles his hips and hits a new spot deep inside. He stutters, groaning into your neck, increasing his pace as you gasp his name. 

“Again, he growls, “come for me again, I need to feel it.”

And it hits you, arching your body up against his heavy weight as he drives himself deep inside, his body pressing you down as you wrap your legs tight around his waist. 

“L-let go…” he pants, wrenching himself away from you, pulling out fast and you feel his hot cum coat your belly as he gasps and groans above you. 

“Coño…” he hisses, tugging his cock, the last drops coating his hand, and he slumps forward, holding himself up on one hand over you, “Sorry, I couldn’t hold back any longer,” he mumbles, catching his breath, his eyes closing with a deep sigh. You pull him down over you, not caring about the mess on your skin, just needing his mouth on yours, feel his weight on top of you again. 

“It all feels so good,” you whisper into his ear, cupping the back of his head and kissing him as he hums, his hands slipping over your skin, caressing every part he can reach. 

He mumbles against your lips, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, giving you a gentle kiss, soft words in Spanish tumbling from him as he pulls back a little and looks down at you. 

“I will fight God himself, if he tries to take you away from me again,” he whispers, “I am not leaving your side.” His eyebrows are pulled together, his eyes serious, as if he’s challenging you to point out the flaws in his promise, but you just nod and let your fingers trail across his scowling face until it softens again and he lets you pull him down to your side. 

Later, when he’s cleaned you both up and wrapped himself around you underneath the covers, Pero tells you about his life, his travels and how he doesn’t have a home, not a real one. He’s always been working for one lord or another and after he returned from China he drifted. 

“But the past year, I stayed in this area, just in case I could go back, or you’d come to me,” he says, still holding you close as the late afternoon slips into evening, “Now, I’ll go wherever you want to go, I’ll protect you, esposa.” He smiles at the last word, softness in his face. 

“Can we stay here?” you ask, “At least for now?” Somehow, you believe that the storms decide when you’ll leave, and for now, the sky outside is clear. 

“In Provins? Yes, it’s a good town. And Guiscard will always be happy to have me near to protect his inn,” Pero nods and smiles as you absentmindedly let your fingers trail through the dark curls below his belly button, making him groan in a low rumble. You smirk at him, gently cupping his soft cock, still sticky from your combined release, and he growls, grabbing you and rolling so that you’re on top, your hands in his strong grip.

“You will drain me, mujer,” he scowls, no menace to his tone, and you chase his mouth with yours, giggling when he nips on your bottom lip.  

“I know a woman in town, Madam Callier, she’s an old friend of Guiscard,” he continues, once you’ve both had your fill of kisses, “She lost her husband last year, he was a merchant and owned a house and she’s been renting out the rooms. I could ask if we could live there, she asked me the last time I was in Provins. She could use a good soldier to keep the house safe.” 

“And you’re a good soldier,” you say, pressing a kiss to a scar on his chest. 

“Bad soldiers don’t get old,” he says, shaking his head, “but I don’t want to put you in danger, or risk leaving you alone here. So a quiet job, being a lady’s guard dog, will suit me well now.” 

“Maybe it’s foolish to say,” you begin, taking his hand and lacing your fingers through his, “but…I think..I think I don’t want to go back. I’d rather stay here with you now.” 

“Then we will be foolish together,” Pero replies, tightening his grip on your hand, “because I do not want you to go back either. Selfishly, I want you to stay with me.” He presses his soft lips to yours again, his kiss firm, insistent, and you repay him in kind, sinking all your feelings into the kiss, silently praying that nothing will take you away from him now. 

Pero leaves a little while later and comes back with clothes for you. You spend some time giggling while he tries to show you how to put them on. 

“I’m no expert in women’s clothing, cariño,” he huffs, “most women I…” he says and then falls silent, fiddling with the knots on the boots he’d traded for, an unusually pink tinge decorating his cheeks. 

“Most women what?” you ask him with a smile, you’re pretty sure where he was going with that sentence, and he looks up at you with a small scowl.

“You can guess,” he mutters, “you’re from an age where there seems to be no shame.” 

“Well, we still have whores and there is still shame surrounding visiting them,” you say, stepping closer to him so that you can press a kiss to his pink cheek. “I know soldiers will visit them frequently, even in our time. Just don’t visit one while I’m here.” 

He gives you such an offended look that it makes you laugh and he grabs you, growling into your neck as he marks you with a small nip. 

“Never, I would never do that to you,” he mumbles, his mouth still pressed against your skin. 

The next day you find yourself walking through the 11th century streets of Provins, next to Pero and his horse Guerrero. The lady with the rooms to rent lives only a few houses down from Guiscard’s inn but her house is much grander. At least it looks grand to you, with what little you know of 11th century architecture. Pero had said her husband was a wealthy merchant, the lady continuing his business after his death, and she was clearly was managing it well. You stood on the street and looked up at the place that would now be your home, at least until the next storm came through. A home in a new time, but with a man you already couldn’t see a life without.  

And as days passed into weeks, you settled into your strange new life in the new house, with Pero by your side. The cold spring you arrived in slipped into warm summer and still, you’re here. In Pero’s time, with him as your protector and guide. He uses the small fortune he brought back from China to make your life as comfortable as he knows how, and stays as close as he can, never letting you stray too far from his sight. 

The thought of suddenly being tossed back into your own time never really leaves. And as time passes that thought turns into cold fear. It scares you so deeply, to suddenly be without Pero, it makes panic simmer in your chest, the very thought of suddenly being without him. And every summer storm scares you, especially when they come at night, and you can’t even sleep, barely blink. Pero doesn’t say as much, but holds you nearly too tight while the thunder rumbles outside, never letting you go as flashes light up the room, his own fear of losing you translating into the almost suffocating way his hands grab your body on those nights. But then the storms pass and you wake up in his arms the next day. And the next, and the next, and the next. 

A year passes and you think less and less of suddenly being pulled back. You’re not sure which day you arrived, you know the date in your time but the calendar is different here and for a while you fear that maybe you’ll only be allowed to stay a year. But spring passes again, summer returns, and still you’re here, in your new little town, with a new life. 

Pero works, and you help where you can, learning more and more about medieval life. Baking, the profession that was your livelihood back home, returns to your life as you begin to explore the local bakery. Madam Callier does business with the baker, Pierre, and he seems intrigued by the multitude of questions you have about the bread he makes. Mostly he makes the rough, mixed grain bread almost everyone seems to eat. But he also makes soft wheat loaves for the few nobles in town that can afford it. Soon you’re sharing ideas with him, while you pick up Madam Callier’s bread, Pero hovering behind as he watches with an amused smile. When Pierre stumbles and sprains his ankle, it feels like fate. He asks you to help with the baking and from then on you’re back in your old profession. 

Pero is reluctant at first, doesn’t like leaving you at the bakery all day, but after a few days of almost scaring away the customers with his scowling appearance, he relents, and agrees that you’re as safe in the bakery as anywhere else in the small town. But he still insists on walking you to the bakery each morning, and comes back for you each evening. 

“I can’t let you walk alone, hermosa, even though it might be safe,” he says, when you question the need for him to walk back and forth to the bakery every day. It’s located on the outskirts of Provins, right up against the city wall, because of the fire hazard of the oven. “You’re my wife, and I promised to keep you safe in this time, let me do this.” 

So you tuck your arm into the crook of his arm, and walk with him through the town twice a day, getting strangely comfortable in this new life and time. Storms come and go and each time you fear them less, Pero still sleeps wrapped around you, but now it’s less because you might suddenly disappear, and more because that’s the way you both want to sleep. His warm, solid body pressed against your back, soft puffs of breaths against your neck when you wake. Your soft palm covering his scarred hand, holding onto him even in sleep. 

Life is harder in this time, there’s no doubt, and more fragile. But Provins is a prosperous town, seemingly spared from the harder conditions of this time, and so Pero and you remain. When Pierre passes away one particularly harsh winter, you take over the bakery and move there with Pero. With him as your ‘guard dog’, as he calls himself, no one dares question a woman running the bakery. The quality of the bread helps too and you thank your lucky star you understand sourdough baking and how the yeast bacteria work. Under your skilled hands, the cheap, rough bread for the peasants becomes even better than in Pierre’s time. And the expensive wheat bread for the nobles becomes so in demand that you can barely keep up, taking on a young woman of the town as your apprentice. 

Many years pass, the old life a memory that you sometimes talk to Pero about when you’re both tucked into bed. He asks if you’d want to go back to your time, and you don’t know what to answer. 

“Maybe?” you say, thinking about the few things you miss, indoor plumbing being the main one, “But not without you, never without you, Pero. I don’t want any life without you, I don’t have a life without you.” 

“You are my life now, mi esposa, mi amor,” he mumbles, pulling you in under his chin and you fall asleep with your head on his chest, the steady rhythm of his heart lulling you to sleep, like all other nights in your new life. 

And then, the morning that you don’t wake, decades after you came back to him, Pero makes up his mind and plans for one last journey. His body aches, his joints are stiff and nothing remains of the dark brown color in his hair, it turned gray many years ago. And above all, his heart aches, the loss of you so physical, the pain inside his chest, he’s surprised his heart still beats even when the very reason for it to exist has left his life. 

He packs his old saddle bags one last time, his back protesting as he swings himself into the saddle of his horse and turns the nag towards the coast. The journey takes a week, the winds are good and the sailing smooth. But he can feel his health waning, whether from the grief that grips his heart, or the loss of his will to stay in this life. 

He travels to where you told him his grave is, to Seville, and he only has one hope left in his life; that you will come back to him when he closes his eyes for the last time. 

A/N:

I hope you loved, and maybe cried a little, over this story. I didn't have any particular feelings about Pero when I wrote his first chapter for the bakery but he's grown on me so much. He is now one of my favourite Pedro boys and I've rewatched the film which also gave me a whole new view of him. He plays a very specific role in story, but there are clearly layers to him and lots to unpack. I think the way Pedro chooses to portrait him too, some of the choices he makes in how he delivers lines, add a lot of back story that's not spoken out loud. I will most likely return to Pero and dive further into his 11th century life.

By the way, I totally ignored any language barriers, both between 21st century and the 11th century as well as them being in France this time. Maybe there's a Tardis parked nearby, who knows? But Provins does exist and is a UNESCO world heritage site for it's well preserved medieval town centre. From the 9th century and onward it was a prosperous town with large markets and influential merchants. Seemed like a good place to have a quiet life for Pero and his new wife.

Not much baking in this story but I had to sneak in a reference to sourdough as it was the way people baked for literally millennia before commercial yeast became a thing. It fascinates me and I'm going to make a whole separate post about sourdough baking but if you want to try it I can really recommend this as a starting point (Claire Saffitz is a baking goddess!)

Everything tag list: @harriedandharassed @inept-the-magnificent @sheepdogchick3  @readingiskeepingmegoing @noisynightmarepoetry @survivingandenduring @vabeachazn @amyispxnk @oberynslady @vabeachazn @amyispxnk @thewiigers 

#pedro pascal character fanfiction #pero tovar #pero tovar fanfiction #pero tovar x reader #pedro pascal #Youtube

[nickfowlerrr]

Hey! Such a fan of your work. Do you still take requests for pwyc Bucky? Is there any chance you could do a reader having a down day bit? Been having a hard time lately and I find so much of myself in her and Bucky soothes the soul. NO worries if not, or if you’re trying to enjoy the holidays and not be put on a downer. So grateful for your work x

pretty when you cry series masterlist

bad day

pairing: pwyc!bucky x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ only. female receiving smut. comfort fic. if i’m missing something you think should be tagged, pls let me know!

words: 2.3k

notes: thank you so much for sending this in. i have been feeling much the same lately so i was really glad to write this little drabble. i hope you find some comfort in it and hopefully it can help brighten up your monday 🖤 sending you love and wishing you a happy holiday season, anon! and to everyone else who reads this, too. 🥰

“Sweetheart?”

Bucky’s voice called out into the silence of the house, receiving no answer in response. All the lights were off, letting him know you hadn’t been downstairs, at least not since the sun started to set.

He knew something was wrong, he had been feeling it all day. He was worried about you, texted you repeatedly and tried to call when he got a chance, but you didn’t answer. If he could have left that meeting with Stark earlier, he would have in a heartbeat. He’d been itching to get home since he started feeling something was off with you. Steve called him out on not paying attention to much of what was being said at the meeting, but he couldn’t have cared less. He was antsy and on edge, annoyed at every question he was asked and clearly irritated any time someone spoke directly to him. The only thing on his mind was you.

“Baby,” he called out, softer as he approached the door to your shared room.

He had no idea what was wrong, but the heaviness he had felt from you all day was starting to get near paralyzing. It was like you were overwhelmed and completely numb at the same time. All he wanted to do was comfort you, make you feel better. Whatever he could, whatever you needed him to do, he would do. He couldn’t take feeling this much longer knowing it was all radiating from you. You must’ve been drowning at that point, the weight of these unknown emotions hadn’t let up all day except the few times you had probably fallen asleep.

Still not getting a response from you, Bucky quietly opened the door and walked in to find you lying on the bed still in the pajamas you were wearing when he left you this morning. You were curled up on his side of the bed, cuddling with his pillow, a delicate pout on your lips as you stared at nothing, breathing steady. Your eyes were bleary when you looked up as he came in.

“Hi,” he said softly, moving to sit next to where you laid on the bed. His hand immediately going to your back, running it up and down soothingly.

You didn’t respond right away, instead letting go of his pillow that you’d been using as a surrogate for him, and grabbing his arm, urging him to lay with you. He got the hint right away and let you pull him down before he adjusted himself so he was facing you better. Your arms wrapped around him and you buried your face in his neck as he returned your embrace.

“Hi,” you mumbled against him.

“What’s wrong, princess?”

“Noth-”

“Don’t say ‘nothing’,” he cut you off before you could finish replying.

You closed your mouth, thinking briefly before deciding not to answer.

Bucky allowed the silence as he returned to rubbing your back, taking a breath as the ache in his chest eased just the slightest.

“Bad day,” you finally responded quietly.

“That makes two of us,”

“Sorry,” you winced at the reminder that he was forced to feel what you had been feeling.

“Don’t be. All I wanted to do today was be here with you,” he assured you.

It was quiet again before he heard your small sniffling and the dampness of your cheeks on his skin as you nuzzled even further into him.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay, doll. I got you, you’re okay,” he cooed as he leaned down to place a kiss on top of your head.

“Talk to me, sweetheart. Tell me what’s wrong. I’ve been feeling this all week, I know you’ve been trying to push it off,”

“I just,” you took a breath before trailing off, not knowing how to explain properly.

“You can tell me anything,” he reminded you.

“I know, I just..”

All words left your head, any semblance of an explanation you could try and offer went flying right out of the window. Not being able to pinpoint it only made it that much worse. He was asking a sensible question. What was wrong?

What was wrong?

What is wrong? Why are you feeling like this?

Why don’t you have a single fucking idea as to why you’re feeling so…bad.

Your heartbeat picked up and so did your breathing. You were trying to find a reason, just one. But you couldn’t. You just felt like this. No real logic to it. You couldn’t give him an answer and you only made yourself feel worse knowing you were making him feel the same.

“I don’t know,” you cried, dejectedly into his neck. More tears falling freely now.

“Shhh,” he whispered into your hair, cradling you against him now. “It’s okay, baby. ‘S’okay.”

You calmed as he held you, feeling slightly better having acknowledged that you were feeling bad instead of fighting the feeling as it had been threatening to drag you down all week, trudging through each day and only finding any kind of reprieve when Bucky was near. Your breath was beginning to steady when he pulled you back from him slightly, looking in your glassy eyes before he gently wiped the remaining tears from your face and you leaned into his hand.

“Have you eaten today?” he questioned.

“No,” you answered, looking away from him, feeling embarrassed that you hadn’t really left your room at all. You had started getting ready in the morning, lazily brushed your teeth and even washed your face. You were going to get in the shower, but when you went to start it, decided to do it later. You just felt so tired still. You crawled back into bed and slept for another hour before you awoke. You felt even worse then. Bucky had left and you had no distractions from the black cloud that had been following you around lately. So you just let it storm over you. Sleeping on and off throughout the day and wallowing in self pity and despair when you were awake. Everything and nothing was wrong all at once. But now, as you were coming back to yourself, your lack of living today was clear and you felt stupid and lazy for it.

“I need to shower,” you mumbled, moving to get off of him. He held you down, keeping you in his embrace, not letting you up just yet.

“I’m gonna make you dinner, first,” he told you.

“Okay,” you allowed as you looked up at him to meet his eye, “Well, I can shower while you make it,” you suggested, thinking it was the obvious course of action.

“No,” he stated, with a shake of his head as he held your eye. You furrowed your brow in response. “We’re gonna shower after,” he told you.

“We?” you repeated softly, looking him in his eyes. The warmth and affection that swam in them was comforting as he nodded before pulling your face closer to place a gentle kiss on your lips.

“Then I’ll light a fire and we can watch that show you keep telling me about. How’s that sound?”

“Good,” you answered, nodding slightly. “Honestly…Anything’s good as long as you’re here,” you simpered.

“Someone’s feeling sappy,” he smirked, repeating the words you always shoot at him when he gets too sentimental or cheesy on you, earning a light eye roll and smile from you at his teasing as you laid your head back down on his chest, taking another moment to just relax in his arms.

“Actually, can we just.. I don’t know, order pizza? Then we can shower right now and just go downstairs to eat and watch the show when it gets here.”

He nodded in response.

“We can definitely do that,” he agreed, a relaxed smile on his face as he felt the heaviness slowly lifting from you.

You pulled yourself up again, this time he let you go as he sat up, grabbing his phone from his pocket to place your usual order. You wandered into the bathroom, starting the shower to let the water warm up before you began to slowly take your clothes off. You were stepping out of your sweats as Bucky came in behind you, tugging you to him. You leaned back against him as he hugged you before his hands found the hem of your tank top, slowly pulling it up and over your head. He nudged you toward the shower that was beginning to fog up already as he began to undress.

You stood under the water, the warmth helping you relax further. Your body felt so sore though you hadn’t done a thing all day. As Bucky got in with you, his arms wrapped around your waist and you sighed at the added relief he brought you. You stood there for a while, swaying in his arms slightly as the water fell on the both of you. Eventually, his arms slipped from around you and when his touch returned, he was gently washing your body, the suds of your soap slowly washing down your skin with the stream of water that was directly above you. Bucky placed soft kisses on every area of your body he washed for you, worshiping every inch of you. He knew you weren’t feeling great, but he wanted you to know how much he loved you - and how incredible you were to him. He needed you to know he would always be there for you, no matter what. On your best days and your worst. He wasn’t going anywhere.

It was like you could feel his love for you radiating off of him and it warmed you. You grabbed his hand as he dragged it back up your hip once you were done washing off. You turned to him and wrapped your own arms around his torso, your hands now traveling up and down his back as you rested your head on his chest. He didn’t force you to talk, didn’t need you to explain. He just understood. Intuitively, instinctively. He knew what you needed right now.

You needed someone to be there.

You were so used to being alone, relying on no one but yourself, but it got tiring after a while. Having no other choice but to stay strong. Things were different now and you knew that. You knew you had Bucky, and you knew you didn’t have to be so strong all the time, but old habits die hard.

When you were together like this, though, you were reminded that you could let yourself feel. It was okay to break down because he’d be right there to pick you back up.

“You okay, princess?”

“‘M’okay,” you nodded. “Bucky, I...Thank you,” you whispered as you looked up to him, one hand reaching up to touch him, your thumb stroking his cheek as your nails gently raked along his neck and into his hair before pulling him down to kiss him softly, lips brushing delicately before you kissed him a bit harder, pressing yourself closer to him.

“I love you,” you breathed against his lips.

“I love you,” he responded, leaning down to kiss you again.

You stayed like that for another minute, just holding each other.

You grimaced as your stomach suddenly grumbled, the hunger you hadn’t even noticed just an hour ago now making itself known.

“I think I might be hungry,” you admitted as Bucky chuckled.

“That’s what happens when you don’t eat all day,” he lightly admonished. “Let’s finish up in here, by the time we’re done the pizza should be here.”

“What do you mean ‘finish up’? I thought we were done?” you said, confused. You’d both washed up and rinsed off - hair and body. You had thought you were both ready to get out and dry off.

“No, I’m not done with you just yet,'' he said as his hand slipped down between your bodies, his knee nudging your legs apart carefully. You leaned further into him as his fingers found their way to your sensitive folds, rubbing you gently before he slipped two of his thick digits into your tight heat as you gasped and shuddered against him, keeping your balance by holding onto his shoulders while he cooed in your ear, whispering sweet nothings to you as he pumped his fingers expertly in and out of you, curling them perfectly, hitting your sweet spots just right as you let out breathy moans at the stimulation. His thumb began rubbing tight circles on your swollen clit as he coaxed you to your orgasm, working you through your high once the pleasure finally overtook you, the white hot warmth erupting through you as you held onto him, muscles tensing and thighs shaking as you came.

You were trying to catch your breath as he suddenly picked you up by your thighs, making you wrap them around his waist. He kissed you again, stealing your breath as he did before you pulled away, nearly gasping as you rested your forehead against his.

“How long do we have until they get here?”

“Long enough,” he breathed huskily, crashing his lips into yours once again. You moaned into his mouth, mewling as you felt his erection throbbing against you, nearly teasing your entrance with the angle he was holding you at.

“Tell me what you want, pretty girl,” he said as he nuzzled his face into your neck.

“You,” you sighed. “I want you.”

You pulled his face back to yours, kissing him as gently as you could, trying to get across how grateful you were that he was there, and how much love you had for him, how much you felt for him as he held you so surely, so securely in his arms.

“Always you.”

#bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky x curvy!reader #bucky barnes x plus size!reader #bucky x plus size!reader #pwyc!bucky x curvy!reader #pwyc series #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut

[elusivecagedmockingbird]

Orbiting: pt.5

: pt.1° | pt.2° - pt.2,5° | pt.3° | pt.4°

[icehockey!jungkook x figureskater!reader] [3.5k smut: ‼️ choking kink, angst, fluff—I think everything's in here] Thank you to everyone who followed and read this fic! I think I tried to fit as much as I could in this chapter to wrap it up, while trying to be consistent with the plot despite cutting it to fewer chapters. Still, here's to an enjoyable read for you guys! Hot off the press, so it's not proofread.

-

The cold air hangs heavy in the rink as you glide across the ice with Jimin. You move in perfect synchrony, your movements fluid and graceful.

For a minute.

Then, you're back to stumbling over your own feet and disrupting the routine. Jimin manages to steady you, but the exhaustion is evident on his face. You offer a sheepish apology and look back to your coach. A stern expression on her face.

"Y/N, focus! We can't afford to keep making these mistakes." She follows you and Jimin skate in a circle by the sidelines. You nod to acknowledge her, and you let your sight wander to the stands, hoping to see Jungkook sitting at one of the seats.

But you only see vacant bleachers. Suddenly, the argument from earlier sits heavier on your heart.

You miss Jimin's cue for a lift and his hold on you slips before you can even secure the move. You fell mid-lift, and Jimin lost his balance, his feet crossing to regain his footing, but it was too late. He pulls you into him as he uses his own body to break your fall. In that fleeting moment, time seemed to stand still as your mind tried to catch up on what had just happened.

"Fucking fuck," Jimin groans below you, clearly in pain and struggling to breathe.

Your coach rushes onto the ice, her expression a mixture of concern and frustration. She knelt beside your crumpled forms, assessing the situation with a practiced eye before calling for an ambulance.

"Jimin, are you okay?" Her attention was on your partner, as it should be, but you wince at her dismissal of you. This was clearly your fault. You knew that the failed lift was a result of your carelessness and lack of focus. With a strained voice, you apologize to Jimin.

He only shook his head, his expression a mix of disappointment and concern. It must have been pity from seeing you hold your shoulder that he assures you. "Accidents happen, Y/N. Don't worry."

"We need to make sure you're both alright. Let's get you off the ice and check for any injuries." Mrs. Jeon helps you both to your feet. Her attention remains on Jimin.

As you retreat from the rink, the guilt and feeling of defeat dawns on you. And you wish you had Jungkook to cheer you up.

-

The hospital hallway was quiet; the only sound was the soft shuffle of your footsteps as you made your way to Jimin's room. You carried a box of chicken in your hand, a small gesture of apology for the accident that had landed him here.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you approached the door. You hesitated for a moment before mustering the courage to knock gently.

The door creaked open, revealing Jimin lying in bed, his face pale but his eyes brightening at the sight of you.

"Hi," you croak out. "I brought you chicken." You wave the box as you step into the room.

"Ah, finally! I've been starving." Jimin sits up and pulls the table so you can place the food directly in front of him. He smiles at you as thanks.

"You're staying, right? I'm hungry, but there's no way I can eat all of these by myself." You agree and watch him take his first bite. Genuinely laughing at his exaggerated bit of enjoying the chicken.

Jimin moves and gestures for you to sit beside him. And you do.

You grind your teeth, thinking about how to start your apology speech when he beats you to talking.

"I feel like I need to tell you this," Jimin holds your hand, his tone serious, and in turn, you face him to show you're listening. "We're a team, Y/N. When one of us makes a mistake, we both learn from it to be better."

Your eyes brim with tears, touched by Jimin's understanding. He was the one in pain, and yet he's the one making you feel better.

"I'm so sorry, Jimin," you hiccup. "I promise I'll do better."

He squeezes your folded hands in his—the touch a comforting reassurance. You were about to dig in for a chicken wing when the door to Jimin's room swung open.

Your eyes widen at the sight of a sweaty Jungkook.

"Oh, Jungkook?" Jimin's head pops out from your side. Your position and intertwined hands are not lost on you.

And obviously this is what Jungkook only sees.

"Are you—" "Gguk, it's not—" "Sorry, I must be—" All three of you rush out words from your mouths. The sound was a garbled mess of someone talking over someone. Everyone wanting to be heard first.

Jungkook clears his throat. "Sorry, I must be in the wrong room," he rushes and slams the door close.

Breaking Jimin's grip on yours, you clear your throat. Jimin looks at you with a sly smile.

"What?" Your tone is defensive, and your eyes elude his stare.

"Aren't you going after him?" Jimin resumes eating his chicken, and strangely, he still holds that sly look on his face. You excuse yourself, and he only responds with a nod, his mouth clearly busy tearing up the chicken leg.

-

Jungkook storms down the hallway, his jaw tense, and hands clenched into fists at his sides. Behind him, you call his name desperately.

"Jungkook, please, will you wait," you shout. You managed to capture the attention of a couple of nurses, but Jungkook keeps speedwalking out of the hospital. You try to match his long strides and quicken your pace to reach him but fall short.

You can only watch Jungkook as he drives away. And your heart falls to your stomach at the thought that he left for good.

-

You re-enter Jimin's room and see that he's made himself comfortable—bed reclined, a sitcom playing on the television, and he seems to be on his third chicken leg. He's laughing at a stupid scene and turns to point it out to you but stops as he sees you standing by his door, on the verge of tears.

"Oh, Y/N. Everything okay?"

At his question, your dam breaks. You rack out sobs, and your shoulders shake. Jimin feels helpless as he can't stand, instead, he beckons you to come closer.

-

“We’ve been friends for so long, and now, I wonder if we just feel this way because we’ve been together for years. Hell, I survived his snarky exes as he did mine." You chuckle at the memory of 'dealing' with Jungkook's girlfriends. You had the decency to step away from Jungkook when he started dating someone, albeit it hurts. You genuinely wanted Jungkook to be happy in a relationship. But after a few days, it's Jungkook who seeks you out. Inviting you during lunch dates, saying he just wanted his best girls to get along. Somehow, that struck a bad nerve to every girl he was dating at the time.

"What if we find out we’re not better as friends and couldn’t return to how we are?”

“Ah. And how exactly are you now?” Jimin teases.

You didn't know. You both just keep walking out on each other. Obviously, it was your emotions that drove you to these actions. You would argue that you were both reasonable and sensible people, but now you see how every time you were together, all your actions were, perhaps, dramatic and careless.

You sigh. “You know he’s jealous of you?” Your lips curve into a borderline smile and grimace as you look at Jimin. If you were in a better mood, you would find amusement in Jungkook's misplaced jealousy, but right now, what lurks in your mind is the accusation that he thinks you never saw him more than a friend when every day since he drew a bug tattoo on his arm and swore he'll get it permanently so he can have something to remember you by, you started to love him differently. You started to see him as someone you would want to be with every day, so he'll never need something to remember you by because you'll always be beside him.

A chortle from Jimin breaks your reminiscing. “I guess he still remembers me then.” You turn to look at him, brows knitted with confusion, waiting for him to explain what he meant. Jimin takes his time drinking his water before looking at you. His eyes sparkle with mirth and seriousness as if what he’s about to say is something controversial.

“Remember the National Solo Dance in Cape Cod?" You shake your head, still confused about where he's leading with this. "In 2013? This isn’t the first time we’re meeting, Y/N. I mean, at least not for me. You were still skating solo, and I watched your routine. I was in awe at you then, and I wanted to meet you, introduce myself.”

The memory brings a childlike smile to Jimin’s face. “Anyway, cut to the end, everyone was throwing flowers and stuffed ladybugs on the rink, but I wanted to hand you the daisy I held personally. I was waiting by the bleachers when your best friend stood next to me. He must’ve thought I was one of the sweepers, and so he told me he would do it instead. It was ironic since I thought he was also there to pick up your gifts, so I told him I was waiting for you."

"God, I was smitten with how you moved; even as you were bowing, my eyes stayed on you. Jungkook must have seen the infatuated grin I had as you were approaching. I mean, he should know that look; the man had it plastered on his face, too."

"He tried to subtly block you from my view. I tried to squeeze myself in front, but when I saw him hug you, and not just in a friendly way, I knew he wasn’t there to pick up shit.”

“Yeah, I think I remember that day,” you murmur. "I don't remember you, though," you quip with a giggle.

“Of course you wouldn't. Jeon Jungkook made sure you never saw me that day," Jimin scoffed. "Since then, I assumed he was your boyfriend. So, I took a step back. Handed the daisy to the sweeper and admired you from afar." He ends his story with a boop to your nose. Much like how an endearing parent does to a child.

Obviously, this was new information to you. When you think back to that day, you never picked up on Jungkook's action. Though you try not to let it show, you were exhilarated at the thought that maybe Jungkook did really love you since then.

Just like what he said.

Jimin has only known you for a few months, but he can already tell when the cogs in your brain are working overtime. And so, he subtly helps you out one last time.

“Y/N, it’s none of my business, and I don’t know you guys that well yet, so I could be wrong, but take my advice or leave it—you have to give Jungkook more credit. I believe the guy has always been sure of how he feels for you. And if what you just said now is also true, then I think you're trading something great for something even better—the best, even."

Gulping air as you take in Jimin's words, your head bobs in agreement. The thought of walking out and leaving Jungkook hurt tugs at your heart harshly. You see Jimin reach out for a tissue, and just when your hands accept it, he wipes his lips before confronting you with more truth.

“He’s been waiting and choosing you since then. It's your turn to choose him now.”

You huff, eyes rolling but you knew Jimin was right. And so, you thank Jimin and leave to look for Jungkook.

-

Your initial plan was to rehearse what you were going to tell Jungkook during your drive to the rink. But as you stand in front of the entrance doors, you're hit with the realization that you hadn't done anything but reminisce about the good old days where you were just best friends.

Just.Best.Friends.

You hated yourself for putting the limiting word—just, beside your friendship.

You let your hand fall from the door handle.

You were being selfish, you think. You both were. You have been friends for years, and in those years, you were great.

When you were best friends, you cried, laughed, and even fought with each other, and still found your way back. Asking to be more than what you have right now is being selfish.

Part of you echoes Jimin's words 'something great for something even better'.

Still, if you go beyond the lines of your friendship with Jungkook, you fear the possibility of irreparable damage in the future. What if you do argue as a couple? Will forgiveness come as easy when you're friends?

Sure. You're tempted with the pride of finally calling himself your boyfriend. Even just thinking about it makes you feel giddy—calling him yours, not because you own him, but he's yours to love and to care for without the pretense. No more pretending to be annoyed everything he asks you to watch his game, instead you can stand proudly on the bleachers, wearing his jersey and cheering him on. You can invite him to your practices without overthinking and the fear of his mother seeing through your masked feelings.

You recoil as the door aggressively opens, the hinges squeaking. But the sight of Jungkook in front of you cancels out the unpleasant sensation in your ear.

"Y/N?" Curious eyes zigzag on your face. "Shouldn't you be in the hospital keeping Park company?" Jungkook walks past you, leaving you just a bit wounded. Your initial reaction was to defend yourself, but decide to act against it. You take a deep breath, as if refueling your courage patience, and follow him.

"I need to apologize to you," your words coming out stuttered and shaky. Hearing this, Jungkook stops to face you. It was like a switch flicked inside him. His face softened, his pettiness giving way to concern. He walks back to you, his shoulders no longer squared up and tense.

"Y/N, you have nothing to be sorry about." Jungkook's lips curve into a warm, reassuring smile. But his eyes stay downcast.

Guilt settles in your gut. Were you at fault for taking away the glimmer in his eyes? Your wait for his eyes to meet yours and when he does, he forces out another smile.

But you know him better.

A heavy sigh leaves your lips at the bittersweet realization that Jungkook's heavy heart could be sinking to the floor and yet he would always set aside how he feels to make sure you're fine. But it is with that realization that brings you to a clear decision.

You look down and lay your palm flat on his chest. You might break if you keep his gaze, and so, you think the best thing to face as you confess was his chest—forget how hard his pecs feel in your hand—rather, this is where his heart is.

"Just listen, please," you plead. You still struggle to find the right words. Was it even possible to put into words the love that grew inside you for your best friend? You were used to acting out how you felt. You believed you already bared your feelings to Jungkook through your caring actions. But maybe, just maybe, you fucked up by failing to pick up that Jungkook needs words. He needs you to tell him how you feel.

He needs clarity. And so do you.

Here goes your everything.

"I shouldn't have walked out on you. But in that moment, everything overwhelmed me and I just couldn’t keep up. One minute I was sucking you off and the next thing I knew you were telling me you loved me and—”

“Love,” Jungkook corrects, cutting you off.

“What?” Your head quickly tilts to look up at him and just so you wouldn't avoid his gaze again, he holds up your chin with this forefinger.

“I love you, Y/N, I always have," he clarifies. "And it's a different, stronger love than being friends. But if you don’t feel the same, or you’re not in the same place as I am, I’m fine with that but will you please just let me know?”

Oh, Jungkook.

"What if we try and it ruins everything?" You hiccup. "If it ruins us and I lose you forever. Jungkook, I don't think I—"

“You’re never gonna lose me." He cuts you off again. "Look, I’m not pushing you to make a decision, I just need you to be honest with me."

You sniffle as he wipes the tears cascading from your eyes with his sleeves. “Whatever you decide, I’m here. I’ll always be here.” Jungkook yet again assures you.

You lean your forehead to his and take a deep breath. Unexpectedly, a soft laugh escapes your lips. But before Jungkook can assume you were laughing at him or were going insane, you were quick to chase those assumptions away.

"If you would have let me finish, I would have told you I love you, too."

"You do?" he stuttered, his voice barely audible over the sound of your racing heart.

And his.

You nodded, unable to tear your gaze away from his. It might be your eyes wetting with tears of happiness, but you think you see the light in Jungkook's eyes come back. "I've felt this way for so long, but I didn't want to risk our friendship. I was scared that maybe I was asking for too much."

Jungkook tilts his head and his hands rub your arms, whether it was to comfort you or him, it didn't matter. "I was scared too, Y/N," he confesses. "I was ready to take anything you could give me as long as I didn't lose you."

The pooled tears in your eyes fall as heavy as the weight of his words. All this time, you had been dancing around each other, too scared to take the leap.

But now you know. He would always catch you and you would do the same for him.

Something great for something even better—the best.

With a sound decision and heart, you call his name.

-

"Jungkook," your lover's name spills out of your mouth in a breathy moan.

Intertwined in each other's arms, your bodies are pressed together in a tender embrace. Your upper bodies are exposed for anyone entering the locker room to see and at first glance, it's arguably a lovely sight to see, but the echoes of slapping skin and groans of pleasure reveals how Jungkook is fucking away your sanity.

The carnal desire you feel with each drag of his cock to your walls is tenfold. Forget that you're in one of the least romantic places to fuck, because somehow, Jungkook's relentless thrusting inside you, as he holds one leg in his arm and the other raised to his shoulders, feels more charged and fulfilling than all the sex you've had before.

It's like both of you are animals in heat who have been let out after being caged for so long.

Not longer than a minute ago, you just came on his tongue and yet, you feel your orgasm creeping up on you again.

He pulls another wanton moan of his name from you as he angles his cock and rams it into you, his tip hitting your cervix. Your body folds in pleasure and he pushes you back with a grip to your throat.

"This okay?" Jungkook drums his finger to your neck as he waits for your answer. His stiff dick continuously penetrating you.

With mouth agape in silent pants, you whisper a yes. You shut your eyes so your senses can focus on the feeling of his limbs on you. His hands on your neck gets tighter as he fucks you harder.

Jungkook is slowly losing himself in you—getting closer to his own peak. His lidded eyes stay on your face, making sure all you feel is him and pleasure—mindful not to hurt you. He ghosts his lips to yours, catching every squeaky breath you let out with his mouth. He's breathing you in. You're submitting yourself to him and so he takes all of it—whatever you're willing to give.

And you're giving him everything—all of you.

You will your eyes to open, and when you do, you see Jungkook—your boyfriend, your lover, yours, yours, yours.

He closes in for a kiss, merging your bodies, from head to toe, as one. And with one last confession of love to each other, you both climax.

-

Jungkook buttons your shirt as you tug and zip his jeans. The room is silent aside from coy giggles and soft smacks, be it from your lips or Jungkook's hand playfully slapping your ass.

As you and Jungkook leave the locker room, he links his hands with yours and sways your arms back and forth, much like he did when you walked home together in grade school.

Except this time, he can leave kisses to your knuckles, and you can let the caged butterflies in your chest flutter all they want.

-

#bts fic #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #bangtanwritershq #jungkook fanfic #jungkook #bangtan #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #jungkook x oc #jungkook calvin klein #smut fanfiction #bangtan smut #smut bts #jjk smut #jungkook scenarios #bts jungkook #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bangtan fic

[stories-and-chaos]

Shrike: Deal Makers

[Hazbin Hotel reader insert as Alastor’s “darling life and death partner” Ace x ace relationship, both parties are moderately sex favorable.]

[One shot, word count 3629, Cw: violence, blood, death, attempted assault, cursing]

——————

The sounds of Pentagram City, gunshots, screams, and explosions, were a vague drone from within your home. Alastor was perusing the newspaper while you looked over the selection on the bookshelf. You’d read all the books at least once. Many were worn from being read multiple times over the decades. None of them was immediately appealing though.

You heard the crackle of radio static as your husband noticed your hesitation. The lanky demon set aside the paper to focus on you. “Trouble deciding my dear?” he asked, the hint of amusement in his voice telling you he had thought of something interesting.

You looked over at him, relaxing at the breakfast table. “Just a bit bored darling. Anything in the news I should know?” You poured yourself some coffee before sitting across from him.

“Hmm, nothing unusual. The rabble securing space before Extermination Day.” The yearly event was roughly a month away and demons were stepping up their preparations. It was similar to humans boarding up their homes before an incoming hurricane. You couldn’t stop the force of nature (or Heaven), you had to try to weather through it. “I’ll admit I’m feeling some ennui myself.” He sipped his coffee before continuing.

“Although…I did have a thought for some entertainment, cher,” he mused, his smile becoming more of a smirk as he raised an eyebrow temptingly.

“Really? Do share Alastor, don’t leave me in suspense.” You leaned forward, both elbows on the table as you cupped your mug in both hands.

His grin widened. “We know how desperate demons get around now, yes? Souls are easy pickings. So, let’s play a game my dear Y/N.” Your eyes brightened at the prospect and you could feel your wings rustling in anticipation. He continued, “Let’s have a contest between the two of us, cher. Who can acquire the most souls before Extermination Day? The one who loses…” he glanced around your home, trying to think of a consequence.

“The one with fewer new souls does all the dishes for a month. By hand,” you suggested. Neither of you enjoyed washing dishes and being able to use your wind or his shadow tentacles made the chore moderately tolerable.

The two of you had played other games and contests in your afterlife. The stakes for losing were ultimately low between you. You were partners after all. Trapping one’s partner in a deal had no appeal to yourself or Alastor.

Deal making with any other demon? That was entertainment.

“Excellent!” His ears perked up and his antlers stretched slightly as he agreed. This would be a perfect way to alleviate your boredom.

An hour later, the two of you strolled together to a plaza in your shared territory. Alastor took your hand and pressed your talons to his lips. “Bonne chance, cher.”

You used a bit of wind to raise you up so you could easily give him a peck on the cheek. “May the best Overlord win.” You backed up enough not to knock him over with your downdraft and took to the sky. Alastor twirled his cane and strolled off in another direction, humming in amusement.

It was times like this that you missed Husk’s casino. It had been an easy hunting ground. You tend to ensnare souls over time. Offer something small that they desperately wanted. Again and again, building up favors with the other demon. Eventually the favors could only be paid with their soul. Or if they had managed to keep their debt to you to a minimum, they would come to a point where what they wanted wasn’t something small. And if you could provide multiple small deals, surely you could make a substantial deal with them, even if it meant their soul.

The casino had been perfect for that, giving you ample opportunity to tempt Sinners with enough cash for another hand or another roll of the dice. And they always came back for more. A favor to a delicate little thing like you was essentially free.

Until it wasn’t.

But sadly, Alastor owned Husk now and his casino was safely tucked away amid dozens of other strongholds of former Overlords. So you had to find other places to play the game.

Of course there were other places to gamble in Hell. But you didn’t have the same understanding with the proprietors; waltzing in to offer collateral to desperate patrons wasn’t encouraged. Bars and drug dens had just as many degenerate souls craving funds you could offer.

At the moment however, the whole city was clawing to avoid Extermination Day. Being out on the streets was second suicide. If you couldn’t secure a hiding place on your own, working for someone who could provide one was the best option. Protection was worth more than money for the majority.

While Alastor looked like a powerful Overlord, you weren’t immediately intimidating. Sometimes you wished you were of a similar mold to Carmilla or Zeezi. Few doubted them, their presence was so powerful. You were what you were however. You hadn’t let your form stop you yet.

Landing in a distant section of the pentagram, you kept your eyes and ears open for potential opportunities as you walked. Sure enough, you found a perfect chance. And it reminded you of how you met Alastor.

A much more run down neighborhood than you frequented, the Sinners here had no issue with committing atrocities in the streets. Case in point; a trio of demons cornered a much smaller one. “You don’t wanna be all alone on Extermination Day, do you babe?” one of them said. He looked like a skeleton held together by acidic gel. One bony hand was pressed against the wall, cutting off the small cat-like demon’s escape.

The cornered demon shook his head mutely, his eyes pinning in fear. One of the other Sinners, this one a blue and orange cyclops, spotted you. “Whatcha looking at birdie? You can come along too, you’re cute enough.” The third demon moved to grab your arm in a lizard claw. His yellowed scales gleamed as he swung you up to the wall.

You could have broken away, but where was the fun in that? Besides, this was an opportunity to establish yourself in this area.

“Oooo, two for one special. C’mon bitches, we’ll keep you nice and safe from the big bad angels. All you gotta do is work for us.” The skeleton grinned, a green haze leaking between his teeth. “Couple cuties like you, we’ll make you bigger stars than that spider twink.”

The demon next to you shrank into himself, unconsciously hiding behind your wing. You put on a concerned air. “Oh mais la cher, I don’t think you can keep yourselves safe. You all look rather…what’s the word…pathetic, that’s it!” The cat demon looked at you like you were insane.

“What the fuck did you say?”

“I said you all looked pathetic. Weak? Unable to perform? I can go on.” The skeleton pulled back his arm to slap you. Or he tried. The instant he moved, you produced a stiletto that you jammed into his throat. He stumbled back, blade dislodging, with green fluid bubbling out from this mouth and neck wound.

“Bones!” the cyclops yelped as the gel melted away from the demon. That was his name?! You felt more than justified removing such a cliche punk from the afterlife. Before he could do more than yell, you thrust the blade into his giant orange eye. It was a much more convenient target than the man you first killed decades ago. Retinal fluid gushed out as he screamed, flailing at the stiletto.

The lizard demon backed away. “Fuck this shit!” He skittered away on all fours, disappearing into the sparse crowd. You let him go. Dead demons told no tales after all. If you wanted demons looking to you for protection, then you needed tales to spread.

Your talons had fluid splashed all over. “Ew,” you said mildly. The gore didn’t scare you, you’d gotten over that fear in life. But that didn’t mean you enjoyed being covered in it. You flicked your hands back and forth, a bit of wind helping to get the worst off and dry your hands.

The cyclops continued to moan in pain next to the pile of bones that was his buddy. You delicately sidestepped around him, avoiding the splatter of blood and fluid he was making as he thrashed around. “W-w-wait! Wait wait please!” came a shaky call from behind you.

You couldn’t help but grin before twirling around. The cat demon had stumbled forward, reaching for you. “You…you saved me.”

“I suppose I did. You’re welcome, cher,” you said in an airy tone as you started to move away.

“No, please! Help me! I’m not gonna make it through Extermination Day, please I’ll do anything!” he called, fear mixing with hope in his voice. Apparently he was having a very bad time in Hell and saw you as a lifeline.

“Anything? That’s quite a lot to offer to a demon you just met.” You faced him fully. Drawn by the cyclop’s cries and the sense of drama, a small crowd started to gather. “What’s your name?”

“André.”

“Y/N, the Singing Shrike.” There was a murmur in the crowd as some recognized your name. “If you’re willing to offer anything to an Overlord, then I’m willing to make a deal. My protection for your soul.” You held out your hand, still stained with retinal fluid and now emitting a silver light. “Do we have a deal?”

André’s ears flattened as he looked back and forth between your hand and the two demons, one dead and one dying, at your feet. “It’s a deal.” He clasped your hand firmly with his paw. There was a swirl of wind around you both that formed into a collar and chain on your new subordinate’s neck. It was only visible for a second. That’s one, you thought in satisfaction.

“Wonderful!” you chirped, clapping your hands once. “It’s always a delight to form new bonds, is it not? Now then, I’m feeling a bit parched. Let’s find something to drink while we discuss your future André.”

The reality of what he’d just done seemed to be sinking in, but he followed you anyway. It took a couple of blocks of walking before you found a decent looking coffee shop. You ordered two coffees, settled at an outdoor table and gestured at André to sit with you. The coffee was decent and you sipped the hot liquid before focusing on the cat demon.

“Now then. I’m sure you didn’t wake up this morning planning to sell your soul. You’re welcome to live and work wherever you like, so long as you understand that when I call you, you will be there. Follow my orders and we’ll get along fine. Now, what are your skills?”

It turned out he was a stage actor. He’d only been in Hell for a year and a half. The prospect of trying to survive Extermination Days every year made him a literal scaredy cat. Finding out he was an actor was a bonus. “That is perfect. Most of my followers are performers, you’ll fit right in, cher.” You penned an address on a card. “One of the theaters in my district. They’re auditioning after Extermination Day. I can set you up in our territory or you can keep staying where you are. Either way, I’ll call you on the Day to hold up my end of the deal.”

With that you sent him on his way; he said he’d take a look at your territory before deciding. Now you could drink your coffee and wait.

Before long, a female Sinner that had been in the crowd approached you. She looked like a luna moth, soft fluff and light green wings. “Miss Y/N? Are… are you… willing to make other deals?”

“Depending on the terms and the demon. Take a seat, cher, let’s talk.”

By the end of the day, you had five more souls in addition to André. The area you had come to wasn’t currently in dispute, but whoever was in charge was not doing a great job of maintaining any kind of order. So a decent handful were looking for someone, anyone, that could offer more security.

You were back home before Alastor and decided to start preparing dinner. Shrimp and grits sounded perfect after a day of negotiations. Alastor seemed to agree when he arrived. Over dinner the two of you compared your days.

Unsurprisingly, he had a slight number advantage already. But the game had just started and you weren’t about to concede to a mere three soul lead. He’d made a deal with a demon struggling to maintain a few blocks of territory. Once Alastor had the leader on a leash, the few souls he’d owned became Alastor’s as well.

For his part, your husband was thrilled at your disposal of two lowlifes and the lure you’d set in that area. “You’ve come a long way from a singer with a hat pin my dear.”

“So have you darling, from a radio host stalking the night with a knife.”

The month passed. Some days you returned to where you acquired André. Word had spread and other Sinners looking to avoid a second death came to offer their souls for safety. Other days you did offer small deals in other areas, building up to gaining a soul.

Some of your new demons spread word to their friends. And others heard of you from the lizard demon you let escape. Including the wannabe ruler of the neighborhood you were siphoning souls from.

There was a week left before Extermination Day and the end of your contest with Alastor. You had returned to the coffee shop you’d essentially taken over for negotiations. The owner had actually made a deal with you not too long ago, after witnessing you make so many without abusing your new subordinates. So she now had a source of better coffee and new machines due to be installed after Extermination Day. In the meantime she kept you and whoever joined your table supplied with drinks and snacks.

The crowd of Sinners approaching you now didn’t look like they were coming to negotiate however. They looked ready for a fight. One of the baristas whispered, “That’s the leader of the area and his gang, Miss.” You finished your drink and handed the cup to them. “Have everyone stay inside until I come in, cher.” The barista gladly dashed in the shop. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the workers and customers within scuttling about.

You leaned back in the metal chair as they came up to your table. The group of roughly a dozen demons was led by a skeleton with poisonously purple gel attaching all his joints. Fluid bubbled within the rib cage and a dull blue haze surrounded his shoulders. You simply waited, talons interlaced.

Your silence and slight smile irritated the tall creature. He was used to small female demons being intimidated by him and his goons. Evidently your calm was unnerving.

“So you're the bitch stealing all my people huh?” he finally hissed at you.

You tilted your head, “That’s a very interesting definition of ‘stealing.’ It’s rather difficult to steal something that doesn’t belong to anyone. And I can’t really blame any of the residents for coming to me after seeing the state of things here.”

He slammed a fist on the table, denting it. “First you kill my cousin, then you snatch away my people and now you insult me? I’m gonna show you your place girlie.”

His crowd of sycophants started hyping him up: “You tell her boss, fuck that bitch up, show her whatcha got Knuckles, she’s gotta pay for Bones.” This fool’s name was Knuckles? This lot was just sad if they couldn’t think of anything better.

The haze around his shoulders turned into flames as the bones of his hands grew. More flames erupted along his arms and fingers as his hands turned into spiked boxing gloves.

In response, you summoned dozens of stilettos into the air. They glimmered briefly before launching at the group. Squishy thuds were followed by cries of pain as the blades found their targets; eyes, throats, guts. Knuckles whipped his head around at his crew suddenly dropping in a dozen bloody messes.

You stood up, made sure of your footing, and leapt at the surprised bag of bones. You were too close to manage a flip, but a stab to the torso worked just fine. Or so you thought. As the leader stumbled down, carried by your momentum along with the sudden pain, the gel holding him together spewed fluid from the wound.

All that vibrant color was for a reason you realized as your hand burned with whatever the bastard was filled with splashed on your hand. “Fuck!” You kneed the skeleton in the jaw, sending him flat on his back, before quickly making a little whirlwind around your hand to get the fluid off.

Hissing through the pain, you planted a heeled foot on his skull. “Do you own any souls?” you asked roughly. Amazing how well the skeleton could show fear and confusion. You repeated the question, enunciating each word. He shook head. “Mais la, too bad.” You pulled your foot back slightly, turning his head. Then you kicked sharply with a gust for added power, twisting his head away and snapping his neck.

Stepping into the coffee shop, you called out, “All clear ladies and gentlemen. Zoe,” you gestured to the owner, “I need your last aid kit and the sink. And someone to clean up the mess.” You ran your burned hand under the water for a good twenty minutes, making sure you got all the acid(?) off. It was definitely a chemical burn but it was superficial. It would just hurt like a bitch.

Zoe helped you pay the area dry and wrap it in a clean bandage. “Are you going home Miss?” she asked nervously. You could guess any of the skeleton’s cronies that you hadn’t killed would be out for revenge once they realized he was dead. It was barely after lunch so there was ample time in the day for word to spread.

“And miss out on the next act?” You laughed as you settled back into your seat outside. “What kind of Overlord would I be if I left the job half done?” Only four demons came looking for trouble, but without you there that would have been even one too many.

Three joined their former boss in a heap of bodies. One, yet another gel connected skeleton with a blue color scheme, took a look at the pile of corpses, and decided selling his soul to you was the better option. Once you had the former grunt under your talon, you felt you could leave safely. You summoned a demon that had been with you for years. The hawk demon was used to being your occasional muscle. So you left the two of them to guard the shop. Meanwhile the body clean up decided burning the pile was their best option, especially with the acid skeleton mixed in. As you took off, they were lighting the gasoline drenched corpses on fire.

Alastor was home before you. Once he saw your bandaged hand he insisted on inspecting the wound. “Cher, how did this happen?” He asked, brows knitted as he unwrapped the bandage.

“Folly on my part. I didn’t realize the acidic looking demon was in fact, acidic.” Alastor examined the area and determined it was superficial as you thought. He applied ointment and rebandaged your hand. “At least now that I’ve killed that excuse for a gang leader it will be easier to acquire souls. I’ve got to close your lead cher.”

Your husband returned to the jambalaya he was preparing. “Are you still up to the contest my dear? I wouldn’t blame you for wanting to call it off now.”

“Of course I am!” You smacked the table with your good hand. “I’m not about to let a little injury stop me! I’m having too much fun.”

Your prediction was accurate. Without the neighborhood’s erstwhile leader and Extermination Day less than a week away, already desperate demons were losing their shit. You kept your new muscle, Calve, with you. He proved to be a decent informant. He resented you of course; you’d taken out his whole gang including his cousins. Your charm wore him down and by the end of the week he had a grudging respect for you.

Extermination Day arrived. The night before you had ensconced all your new souls into your territory. Doors and windows were fortified; the angels liked easy pickings and extra barriers meant they often went looking for other targets. It was only when they couldn’t find demons in the open that they started breaking down entrances.

In relative safety, you and Alastor finished your final tallies. 122 new souls for you and 124 for him. The last six days had helped you catch up but he still managed to squeak by a win.

“Ah, I do feel bad, making you wash all the dishes when your hand is still injured,” he mused as screams filled the air outside.

You examined your freshly bandaged hand. “Well, if you are that concerned, you can continue with the chore until I’m healed up. Should only be a few more days. I’ll even add a few days onto my end as an apology.”

“Hmm,” Alastor hummed, thinking it over. He grinned as another shriek pierced the air. “It’s a deal.”

———————

@whitewolfsoldat @edgyboi10000 @ch3sire-blu3 @clearly-awkward @badatpunz @bengewatch @chewbrry

#hazbin hotel #hazbin fanfic #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #alastor #asexual alastor #asexual reader #asexual #ace representation #acespec #cw blood #cw death #cw violence #cw sa implied

[builtbybrokenbells]

The Green-Eyed Monster

After a particularly shitty day, refuge in alcohol seems like the best option to help Jake recover from his poor mood. Y/n, his long time girlfriend joins him and his bandmates at the bar with high hopes to salvage the night. Jealousy, which had never been in Jake’s vocabulary, makes its first groundbreaking presence and laughs at its own disastrous effects.

Pairing: jake kiszka x f!reader

Word count: 17k (oops 🤭)

Warnings: SMUT 18+ (actual filth), unprotected sex (wrap it), borderline hate-fucking, rough sex, oral (m!receiving), oral (f!receiving), fingering, dom/sub, degradation, name-calling, slapping, spanking, overstimulation, forced orgasm, touch of bratty sub, biting, mutual masturbation, praise, pet-names, swearing, jealousy, possessiveness, drinking, toxic themes, angst (with a happy ending, pinky promise), arguments, probably definitely missed some, sorry!!

Here’s some filthiness with a touch of toxicity and angst because my last few posts were a bit too sweet 🥰 had to switch it up somehow. got a little carried away with this bad boy. had to cut some out cause i got too into it, so if it seems a little fast paced at the end, please keep that in mind! just couldn’t stop myself. it’s long, smutty, intense and does end well, i promise 😃 also very poorly proof-read cause i can’t sleep and decided to post this tonight instead of tomorrow, so please be nice. as always, be kind, enjoy, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes 🫶🏻

also, side note: all of the love I’ve received for Picasso has made my heart incredibly happy. I was very nervous posting it, and you guys really eased my worry. I appreciate you all dearly, your kindness makes me want to keep writing ♥️

~

Jake was in a terrible mood, and there was no doubt about that. Perhaps in the beginning, the idea of a lighthearted night at the bar was intriguing; something to take his mind off his mistakes in the studio earlier that morning, and hopefully to make up for his and Josh’s incessant bickering. It didn’t take long for that idea to turn sour in his mind, too. By the time you both realized it wasn’t going to brighten his spirits, you were already clad in a miniskirt and low cut body suit, hanging over the bar-top to tip the bartender. He thought it best to keep his mood to himself and just try to enjoy the sight of you all dressed up. It worked for a while; the tension remained minimal due to his hand permanently anchored to your hip, reminding him of all he had to be grateful for.

Once he’d gotten a few drinks into him, the familiar smile you loved so much started to grace his lips. The tension in his shoulders melted slightly, leaving him lax against the back of the dirty bar booth. His protective grip around your waist had turned into a loose hang over your shoulders, gently guiding you into his side with a loving undertone. Every so often, he even managed a laugh at his brothers antics, leaving you to believe the night may still be saved. But, only to your trained eye, you could still notice the cloud of irascible energy in his eyes.

You were quite certain that when he’d arrived back to your shared home earlier that day, the bedroom would never recover from the shock of the pornographic scene. You’d been able to pick up on his frustration through limited texts, only to have the speculation solidified when you finally caught sight of the expression on his face as he walked through the front door. When it never came, an uneasiness settled in your stomach. Jake’s favourite method of stress-relief was fucking you, which was always quite fine by you. Knowing that he still had all of the pent up anger left you conscious of the fact the night was teetering on a thin line; if it went well, no harm nor foul. If not, you were going to have to plan ahead for a rest and recovery period.

You were more than shocked when your long-term boyfriend pitched the idea of joining his brothers at the bar. In his ill-temper, he usually turned into a bit of a recluse. But, you thought it best to go along with the idea. If he thought it would cheer him up, you were happy to oblige, and never complained about seeing his band mates. They’d turned into the best of friends over the years, and they were your favourite company to keep aside from Jake. You opted to believe it couldn’t be the worst idea in the world. So that’s where you ended up: sitting in a bar booth with Jake wrapped around you and laughing alongside the other three boys.

They’d picked a small bar that you all frequented. It had low traffic and strong drinks to keep spirits high. There were dart boards, pool tables, complimentary table peanuts and some slot machines if you ever decided to try your luck. They kept a steady stream of dad rock flowing through the sound system when the karaoke wasn’t open to the public, and the bartenders had grown into acquaintances over the months of regular visits. If you were to go to any bar, this was the perfect one to choose. You all had yet to have a bad experience, aside from an occasional wandering hand from a too-drunk regular, or a drunken snide comment that was easily brushed off. The night was destined to be good, assuming Jake was kept in good spirits.

You picked up a shelled peanut, cracking the soft exterior with your thumb. You took one half of the shell and placed it on your napkin, and took the other one and tossed it across the booth. It hit Sam in the side of the head, as he was turned to speak to Danny who was beside him. He whipped his head towards you, the soft thud of the impact catching his attention. He immediately knew the culprit, as you’d been doing it intermittently the entire time you’d been there. You gave him a sweet smile, one filled with innocence, as if to say you would never do such a thing. His accusatory stare made it difficult to hold back laughter. He picked up the shell, which had fallen anticlimactically to the table, and tossed it back in your direction. It bounced off your chin and dropped down into your shirt, causing an eye roll from you. Sam pointed a finger at you, a silent warning not to do it again. You picked it from your cleavage and placed it with the rest of the waste atop the napkin. You vowed to leave him alone, just long enough for him to forget about it, then strike again.

Josh, who was caught in conversation with his twin brother, suddenly smacked his palms against the tabletop, catching you by surprise and making you jump. You turned your attention to him, eager to know what the disturbance was about. “Drinks!” He announced. “One for you, brother dearest?” He asked Jake. He gave him a nod. Josh’s eyes trailed to your glass, noticing the liquid threatening the end and muddled with melted ice. “And for you, pretty lady?” He asked, flashing a smile. Nobody else noticed, but Jake’s eye gave a small twitch, and his jaw clenched at the term of endearment.

“Another Mojito, please.” You grinned, not willing to pass up an offer of a free drink. He had no worries buying them for you. You and Josh had been playing the same game for half a decade; he’d do something nice for you, and you’d hit him back with something even better the next time. The timeless battle had begun after you both had realized arguments of payments and repayments were getting you nowhere. Jake had found it endearing, never a worry in his mind about anything non-platonic. He trusted you with his life, as he did with Josh. He was more than happy that you were so close with his brothers, and would be the first to speak up if he were uncomfortable. But, the war had gone to extremes by times, ranging from signed albums from big music names they’ve met, to rarity collectors editions of his absolute favourite films. If the tally was still running, the amount of money and thought you’d put into each other would be unfathomable.

You looked over to your boyfriend, picking up on the sullen attitude once more. He caught your eye and you gave him an inquisitive look, but he just shook his head. You thought it best not to push him, instead leaning over to place a kiss on his cheek. Before you pulled away, he turned and gave you a real kiss, holding you there for a moment. When he pulled back, he gave you a small smile. You felt your nerves fizzle away, finding comfort in the small gesture. He was really good with always making sure you knew he wasn’t mad at you while he was generally upset. It was a small, constant reassurance that helped guide you through his occasional short temper.

When Josh returned, he placed everyone’s respective drink in front of them. “Thanks, darlin’.” You smiled, stirring the drink with your straw. You took a sip, a hum of gratitude immediately sounding from you. Mindless chatter ensued for a few moments, nothing of importance being spoken into existence. Then, the music over the speakers started to get louder and the lights were dimmed. The trashy coloured lights surrounding the dance floor flicked on, letting everyone know the time had hit double digits. A familiar note sounded, causing you to perk up instantly. Josh caught your eye, raising his eyebrow and nodding to the open dance area.

Without a second thought, you jumped up, reaching your hand out to him. It was a simple action, one that you’d done thousands of times over the years of you and Jake dating, and it had never been an issue. Jake was not a dancer, and you were sure he never would be. You theorized he may even try to skip out on your first dance at your wedding. Josh, on the other hand, was always happy to pick up the slack in that department.

You were a lighthearted spirit, one who loved fun and didn’t care about wandering eyes or judgment, not caring if your dancing or singing was making a fool of you. It was something that drew Jake to you in the first place, and he loved watching the sparkle in your eye as you lived your life to the fullest. He was usually happy that someone was always willing to dance with you; it ensured you were safe and it gave you someone to share a memory with. He was usually quite encouraging of Josh’s antics, especially because it meant the spotlight was off of him and he wouldn’t have to join you on the dance floor. He would never stop you from enjoying yourself, but certain things, as you’d come to understand, were just not Jake-esque.

That night, the sight of you so close with his brother, singing the song back to each other and him twirling you around, set him on fire. He wasn’t sure why. Perhaps it was Josh’s unwavering pet names for you, or the way he always looked at you like he was head over heels for you, or the constant comments of Josh telling him how lucky he was. Or, how it looked like Josh was adding to your light, when in turn, sometimes Jake felt like he dimmed it. Especially on nights like that one, in particular, when he was perpetually angry and wasn’t sure how to shake it off. Or, maybe Jake was still pissed off at Josh’s critique and jabs at the studio when Jake was struggling to play his solos. Whatever it was, for the first time in his life, he was jealous of you and Josh. If looks could kill, his twin brother would have been on the floor.

“You okay?” Sam asked, picking up on Jake’s glare in the direction of the dance floor. His jaw was hard-set, knuckles white from the grip on his glass. Jake turned to face his younger brother, breaking out of the trance he’d found himself stuck in.

“Yeah.” Was all he replied, taking a long drink from his cup.

“It’s just Josh and y/n, they’ve always been like that. You’ve got nothing to worry about, brother.” Sam tried to ease the tension.

“Have they, though?” Jake snipped back, almost immediately. “Like that?” Sam and Danny looked towards you both, studying your actions for a moment. Eventually, they shrugged and gave a nod.

“Yeah.” Sam said, not finding anything out of the ordinary. “Come on, man. Josh would never do that to you, and neither would she. Y/n’s been head over heels for you since the day you met her.” Jake sent a look of warning to his sibling, silently telling him to stop trying to make the situation better. Jake knocked back the last of his drink, letting the bottom of the glass fall back on the table with a thud. Without another word, he stood and went to the bar.

As he waited for the bartender to fix his next drink, he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander back over to you. He expected you both to filter back to the booth when the song ended, but the next tune caught your attention, too. Josh had his hand on your hip, and yours was loosely hung around his neck. You were close to him, but not provocatively close. Still, to Jake, it was more than enough to get his blood boiling. You were laughing at him singing the lyrics to you, swaying your hips in time to the beat. Even in his jealousy, he couldn’t help but admire your beauty. The wrinkles forming in the corner of your eyes, the radiant grin, the way your hair cascaded down and framed your face. He thought you were breathtaking, and for once, he was envious he wasn’t up dancing with you, instead.

He hadn’t realized the song had ended until you presented yourself in front of him, breathless and buzzing with joy. He felt himself soften slightly when you wrapped your arm around his midsection and leaned into him. “Hi, handsome.” He could tell you were tipsy; he could hear it in your words. He let his hand fall from his drink, bringing it to your face and running his thumb over your cheek. The anger seemed to melt away as soon as you touched him, and he was fully engrossed in your presence. The thought of you dancing with Josh became a distant memory to him as soon as you stood on your tip-toes and placed a kiss on his lips. “What’s wrong?” You whispered, concern thick in your voice. He looked down at your face, not knowing exactly how to answer.

“I… I’m okay.” He assured you, leaning down for another kiss. He realized he may have been a bit irrational, especially now that you were with him, showing him ten times more affection than you were with his brother.

“You can talk to me, honey.” You pried just a little, hoping he might open up. He snaked his free hand around your waist, letting it rest dangerously low on your back.

“Think I just needed a kiss.” He brushed your concern off, but you could still sense the indifference in his voice.

“Whatever you say.” You hummed, turning towards the bar. He kept his hand on your lower back, but turned with you. He grabbed his drink and sipped at it while you caught the bartenders attention. He rushed over, giving you a smile.

“Mojito?” He asked. You nodded enthusiastically, happy he remembered your order. He grabbed all of the ingredients, making small talk with you while he made your drink. “You’ve got some good dance moves.” He complimented. You let out a small laugh.

“Thanks, the really good ones only come out when I’m drinking.” You joked.

“We’ll have to keep them coming your way, then.” He said, placing the new cup in front of you. “There you go, beautiful.” The fire that had died down in Jake reignited as if the bartender had poured a gallon of gasoline on it. You noticed his grip on you tightened, and when you looked up you saw the tension of the muscles in his jaw. Jake grabbed his wallet and pulled out a bill. He threw it on the counter and guided you away before you could respond. You looked up at him, noticing the vibration of anger in his hands.

“Jake, what is going on with you?” You only let him lead you away so far before planting your feet on the ground, forcing him to stop with you. He turned his head towards you, eyes filled with an emotion you had never really seen from him before.

“Me?” He snapped. You recoiled at the harshness of his voice. You could see him soften a bit, but he was still ablaze with whatever he was feeling. “You’re all over Josh up there, and then you flirt with the bartender in front of me and I’m what? Just supposed to sit there and watch?”

“What?” You were certain you couldn’t have given him a look more bewildered than the one you were giving him, then. “Did me dancing with Josh bother you?” He didn’t respond, but his eyes did dart away from you. “Jake, I just… we always dance together. I didn’t really think… I’m sorry.”

“Fuck, no, y/n. I’m sorry.” He sighed, rubbing his face with his hand and pushing his hair back. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I know it’s not like that. I’m just in a shitty mood, and I shouldn’t take it out on you.”

“We can go home, baby.” You offered, making sure he knew you were okay with that, too.

“No, you’re having a good time. I just need to loosen up a bit, I guess.” He let out a small chuckle, one that was barely noticeable.

“I’d have just as good of a time at home, alone, with you,” you leaned up to his head, lips inches away from his ear “in bed, naked.” His arm around you tightened, pulling you into him slightly.

“Careful,” he warned. You placed a kiss to the sensitive area just below his ear, lingering there for a moment.

“Just so you know, the bartender could only have me in his dreams.” You whispered before you pulled away. “I go home to you, remember?” His lips upturned into a smug smile.

“Get over there and keep drinking,” he ordered “before I have to take you to the bathroom.” The look in his eye led you to believe he wasn’t joking. You felt a blush creep up to your cheeks, taken off guard by the bluntness of the statement. He gave you a wink, subtle enough to go unnoticed, but obvious enough to send a rush of arousal straight to your core. “Don’t get too drunk, though. I’ve got a long night planned for you.” He promised, placing a delicate kiss to the top of your head, as if the words he said weren’t laced with filth.

You joined his brothers back at the booth, both of you sliding in as if nothing happened. Jake resumed his earlier position, slinging an arm around your shoulder. His whole aura was much lighter than it was a few moments before. As the boys divulged into conversation, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander to your interaction with Jake. He wasn’t a jealous person; in fact, you couldn’t recall a time off the top of your head where he had been. You’d been dating him for just over five years, knowing him better than anyone else. He could be slightly possessive at times, and even that was rare, but he was never outright jealous. Above all else, he was protective of you. He was always quite comfortable with the fact that you were his, and nobody stood a chance. At the same time, you’d never given him a reason to believe otherwise, because there was none. You were hopelessly in love with Jake, and always had been. To you, no other boy existed in that sense. He was everything you needed, and beyond that. Still, the idea of him radiating with jealousy sparked something inside of you. It was new, intense, and admittedly, very hot.

You shook the thought away, realizing it was not the best time to be thinking about how attractive you thought he was. You were broken from your thoughts when the volume at the table heightened. You looked up to see Sam and Danny locked in an arm-wrestling position. Josh had his hand on his brothers shoulder, encouraging him, while Jake was leaned in to the table slightly, cheering Danny on. You couldn’t help the laughs that you let out, finding the whole scene boyish and amusing. After a few moments of struggle, Danny took the win and pinned Sam’s arm down to the table. Jake let out a triumphant noise, removing his arm from your shoulder to reach across the table and giving Danny a congratulatory high-five.

“Pay up.” he said to Josh, now holding out his hand to his twin. Josh rolled his eyes, but fished his wallet out of his pocket and grabbed a twenty, sliding it across the table. Jake grabbed it, a smug smirk on his lips, and put it in his own. The betting war between the brothers was uncontrollable. They loved to put money on the stupidest of things, and when there was nothing pre-existing to bet on, they made something up. It was never about the dollar amount, more so just bragging rights.

Jake rested against the booth again, the satisfaction of winning giving him some momentary cockiness. Instead of returning his arm around you, he let his hand rest on your thigh under the table. You did your best to keep your expression the same, trying not to focus on the warmth of his palm on your exposed skin. His fingers drifted under your skirt, slowly making their way between your legs. He let his hand rest stop there for a moment, not wanting to push you too much. “So, y/n,” Josh started, catching you off guard. You looked up to meet his eyes. “I think that pool table is calling our name.”

“Rematch from last time?” You joked, raising an eyebrow.

“Redemption is a better word.” He corrected.

“And if I beat you again?”

“You won’t.” He dismissed you, not even considering the possibility. “But, if on some off chance you do, dinner is on me the next time we go out.”

“You said that last time.” You teased. “No originality.” You let out a small tsk. He feigned a look of offence. The conversation was allowing you to take your mind off Jake’s wandering hand.

“Fine, what’s your idea?” He conceded.

“I don’t have a better one, I just like making fun of you.” You shrugged. “Anyone else care to join?” You asked the rest of the table. There was a mutter of agreements and nods. Josh slid out of his seat first, followed by Sam and Danny. Jake was hesitant to move his hand from your leg, holding you there for a moment. You turned your head to look at him, giving him an inquisitive look.

“Better not keep him waiting.” Jake murmured, looking over your face. Your breath caught in your throat as he moved his hand up a little further, fingers inches away from your underwear. “What’s wrong?” He asked, a small smirk playing on his lips.

“Behave yourself, Jacob.” You said, your lips upturned into a smile, too.

“Mhm, careful.” He gave the same warning as earlier. You knew very well that in every sense, he was always going to be in charge when it came to anything bedroom related. Still, it always proved fun to push his buttons. He pulled his hand away, ushering you out of the booth. As you stood, he delivered a quick smack to your ass. You let out a gasp, quickly looking around to see if anyone noticed. When you found you were in the clear, you gave him a glare over your shoulder. “Love you.” He said, smiling in response to your reaction.

Instead of answering, you began to walk away. He made a mental note, ensuring he would get you to say it, later. He followed you as you made your way to the pool table, where you both noticed that your company had picked up some extras. There were three new faces, two girls and a boy. “Ah, thanks for finally deciding to join us!” Sam bellowed as you walked up beside him. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you into his side, in a very annoying younger brother type of way. You rolled your eyes, attempting to wiggle your way out of his grip.

“Who’s your new friends, Sammy? Had to find some people who don’t know enough about you to make fun of you, yet?” He let you go with a dramatic, but light, push.

“Get out of my face,” he said, a smirk on his lips.

“You love me.” You nudged him with your elbow.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Your eyes turned towards the new faces, taking in the sight. Both girls looked quite similar, and the guy was nothing like the boys you’d come to the bar with. He was tall, had short, blonde hair and bright eyes. “I don’t know their names. Josh started talking to them.” Sam shrugged.

“Figures,” you laughed, knowing all too well how much of a social butterfly he could be. Jake was standing behind you and Sam, opting to stay out of the conversation. Eventually, when Josh caught sight of you, he waved you over. You joined him, allowing him to introduce you to his new friends. The girls were friendly enough, but didn’t particularly stick out as memorable in your mind. The guy was nice, too, but his wandering eyes were very noticeable and very uncomfortable. “Nice to meet you all.” You addressed them all together.

“So, is this your girlfriend?” The guy asked Josh, which produced a booming laugh from both of you. Jake, on the other hand, did not find the question very funny. And he found Josh’s answer even less tasteful.

“A man can dream,” Josh sighed, humour clearly laced in his tone. You smacked his arm, chuckling at the thought. “Unfortunately, just my best friend, my confidante, my partner in crime,” he paused, looking over to you. “Soulmate?”

“Too far,” you warned, but couldn’t help the smile that broke on your face. You knew he was drunk, just by the formulation of his words. The statement itself was nothing out of the ordinary; Josh loved teasing Jake, although he never really managed to bother him with it. That night, though, was an entirely different story. Every word that Josh spoke seemed to piss him off even more.

“So you’re on the market then?” The unfamiliar boy asked. Your eyes widened, shocked at the bluntness of his question. That seemed to be Jake’s breaking point, as he pushed through Danny and Sam to join the conversation. His arm snaked around your waist in an instant, the familiar feeling immediately comforting you.

“Absolutely not.” His tone was firm, but not threatening. When you looked up to see his face, you were certain that if his expression were rewritten in a comic, that would be the scene where smoke was coming from his ears.

“Ah, sister-in-law was probably a good descriptor, too.” Josh said, giggling at his brother. Jake shot him a glare in response.

“Sorry, man. Promise I didn’t mean any harm.” The boy raised his hands in defence, showing Jake he wasn’t trying to start anything. Jake calmed slightly, nodding in understanding.

“I think a game of pool will certainly lighten the mood!” Josh announced, drawing the attention away from the tense moment. He grabbed a cue from the rack on the wall, breaking up the group. The boy who you couldn’t really remember the name of followed Josh, leaving you and Jake to yourselves for a moment. The two girls were chattering amongst themselves, completely uninvolved in the situation.

“Soulmates, eh?” Jake looked down at you, a look of annoyance on his face.

“Jake,” you warned, giving him a pointed look. “If this is because I’m upsetting you in some way, let’s go and talk about it. If it’s just because you’re in a bad mood, quit it.” You told him. You weren’t mad at him, but you weren’t willing to be chastised all night when the root of the issue didn’t even begin with you. He’d never once had an issue with the nature of your’s and Josh’s relationship. The surfacing of his anger on a night where he’d already been upset seemed to be an indication that he wasn’t solely upset at Josh’s words, but more in general. He wasn’t the best at processing his emotions, and tended to direct them at smaller situations to avoid dealing with the main issue.

A note of apology flashed in his eyes at your words. Before he could answer, you broke away from him to grab a cue for yourself. He watched you, feeling a fizzle of regret form in his chest. You weren’t acting any different than any other night, but for some reason he couldn’t seem to shake the feeling from himself. He was too deep into his miserable mood to break out of it, now. He was pulled from his thoughts when Sam called him over to the pool table next to the one you and Josh were playing on.

Josh had started the game, fully keeping your attention on the table rather than Jake’s sour mood. Sam and Jake had started their own game, eventually joined by Danny and one of the girls from Josh’s new posse of friends. The guy had moved on to try his luck with another group of people, clearly only at the bar in attempt to get laid. The second girl was hovering around the other part of your group, watching the game with intensity. You tried not to notice, but every so often her eyes would drift and land on Jake. You shook off the distraction, zoning back in on your own game. You lined up your cue with the cue ball, and shot at a solid ball. It rolled in flawlessly, and you moved on to the next.

“Cheater,” Josh grumbled as he watched your next ball sink, too.

“Don’t hate the player, hate the game.” You shrugged.

“Could never hate you, mama. Just strongly dislike you.” He gave you a cheeky smile. You gave him a scoff of disbelief, knowing for certain there was no world to exist where Josh would dislike you, or anyone, for that matter.

When your turn finished, you stepped back to observe his. As he lined up his shot, your eyes drifted over to the table next to you, finding Jake and Sam laughing at a joke one of the girls had spewed out. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to look away from Jake’s smiling face, trying not to focus on it. But, in the back of your mind, you couldn’t help but think about how that was the happiest he looked all night. As much as you wanted to be annoyed at him for questioning your loyalty, you couldn’t find it within yourself. Yet, anyway. The sight produced more sadness than anything else. You swallowed your insecurity, chalking it up to you overthinking the situation.

The night carried on, the empty glasses piling up by the pool tables, and your inhibitions greatly diminished. You and Jake had silently made the agreement to steer clear of each other in avoidance of a blowout at the bar. You stuck with Josh, bouncing from pool, to darts, and even the dance floor a few times. Jake found himself constantly engrossed in the nameless bimbo that had taken an interest in him. Somewhere between drink seven and double digits, you’d both engaged in undiscussed competition to see who could piss the other off, more. When the clock neared twelve, the karaoke section of the bar opened up. After picking up another beverage at the bar, Josh was pulling you in the direction of the stage.

He put the songs in, shutting down your inquiries and telling you it was a surprise. When you both got on stage and grabbed a mic, Jake was seething before the first note of the song played. “Seriously, Josh?” You laughed as the name of the song flashed across the screen.

“Come on! It was a good choice.” He grinned.

“You’re trying to start shit.” Still, even as you scolded him, his drunken delight was incredibly entertaining.

“He’s being an asshole,” he said, making sure his mouth was away from the mic. “I’m sure he’s trying to do the same thing with her.” His eyes floated in the direction of his twin, who now had his arm hung loosely over the other girls shoulders, similar to his hold on you earlier in the night. Red flashed in your eyes, but instead of lingering, you turned to Josh, no longer worried about the choice of music.

“Let’s give a performance of a lifetime.” Was all you replied. He smiled, happy you were on the same page. You both divulged into the song, very dramatically singing the words to ‘Don’t Go Breaking My Heart’ by Elton John.

By the end of the song, you had almost completely forgotten about Jake by the pool table. You weren’t sure if it was because of the liquor in your system, or the sheer amount of fun you were having. You were still a bit breathless by the time Josh’s second choice lit up the screen. This one, although not a duet, was probably one of the most venomous choices he could have made. Mixed between Jake’s love for Jimi Hendrix, how often Jake played it and dedicated the song to you, and the connotation of the lyrics, you were surprised Jake didn’t get up on stage and strangle Josh in retaliation. Your eyes widened, looking over at him in concern.

“He’s been mad at me all day, and he’s taking it out on you. Let him be upset, he’s being a dick.” Josh said, his words assuring you that he would take the heat for the song choice. It felt nice to know that Josh also thought Jake was acting out of character; jealousy had never been in his vocabulary, and the toxic game you found yourselves caught in was something you had never done before. You and Jake had barely had more than an argument in your years of dating. The longer it dragged on, the more painful it became. He had a short temper, but you couldn’t recall a time it had ever been pointed at you, let alone caused a spiteful interaction. As much as it was hurting your feelings, it was fuelling an anger within you that you weren’t sure even existed before that night. The liquor and the sour mood didn’t mix, and you should have known that from the beginning, but had no idea it would divulge into anything close to whatever the current situation was.

By that point, all of the boys had caught on to the tense nature. Sam and Danny were baffled that Jake was even willing to put his focus on another girl, let alone his hands. He was nothing if not loyal to you. Usually, his eyes would never even drift to another girl. Everybody was more than aware that he loved you as much as his music, if not more. They were also very aware that you and Josh were acting out of retaliation, fuelling the fire and hoping to get the last dig in and end it for good. The girl remained quite oblivious to the whole affair, just happy to be receiving some of the attention. Sam let out a long exhale as Josh began to sing you the lyrics to ‘Foxey Lady’, him and Danny certain that this was the brutal climax to the entire night. Jake was vibrating with anger, and there was no consolidation when you’d given up your hesitancy and sang it back to him. Sam and Danny shared a look, silently agreeing that they were going to have to put a stop to the situation one way or another before it got too out of hand.

Jake bargained with his temper, deciding on how to respond. Anger would be too easy, and too obvious. So instead, his course of action was the most disastrous one he could think of. Rationality was completely out the window by that point. He grabbed the girls hand, who he still hadn’t learned the name of (and he didn’t really care, quite frankly), and pulled her towards the dance floor. You didn’t notice at first, too caught up in the singing and laughter you were sharing with Josh. Everyone else did, however, and were awaiting the storm that was brewing. At the height of the song, you finally noticed that Josh had become a bit distracted from the performance. You looked to him, realizing he was staring off at the dance floor, and followed his gaze.

You cut off your singing mid-sentence, your heart plummeting to your stomach. Jake was dancing, in midst of twirling around the girl he’d been using as leverage all night. When he pulled her back in, his hand rested on her hip and he gave her a smile. It was a sickening sight for you. You slipped the mic back onto the stand, cautiously stepping off the stage, and headed straight for the door. You threw back the last of the liquid in your cup and set it on an empty table as you passed by. As the door slammed behind you, tears prickled your eyes and a lump began to form in your throat. At the sound of the door, Jake’s head turned to the stage, finally noticing your disappearance. Panic struck him, realizing he’d definitely taken it too far. He caught Josh’s eye, but wasn’t met with any type of reassurance. He’d won the battle, but at too much of a price.

He cut the dance short, not caring about any formalities, and followed hot on your trail. When he got outside, you were already on your way down the street, far clear of the parking lot. He muttered a curse under his breath, and took off in a jog after you. “Y/n!” He called, but you didn’t turn back. You kept your pace steady, hoping that you could make it home before he caught up. Your shared home wasn’t too far away from the bar, only a few minutes by foot. You thought if you could make it there before him, you could regain yourself a bit more. When he realized you weren’t going to slow down, he ran a little faster.

He managed to catch up, grabbing a hold of your hand to stop you from going any further. You tried to shake out of his grip, not willing to make any conversation with him, but he refused to let go. “What?” You finally snapped, turning to look at him. “What do you want, Jake?” He recoiled slightly, never once hearing you speak to him in that tone.

“I…” he trailed off, eyes wide and unsure of what to do.

“You what?” You asked again, tears still falling from your eyes. “Came to tell me all about your new dance partner? I can go get my shit out of the house and you can move her right in, in my place, if she’s so fantastic!”

“I don’t even know her fucking name, y/n.” Jake rolled his eyes, only fuelling your fire even more.

“That’s the point!” You yelled back, finally freeing your hand from his. “You don’t even fucking know her, and you get up and dance with her. It’s been five years and I can’t even get you to do that with me! One hand, Jacob. I can count on one hand how many times you’ve danced with me. I got tired of hearing no, so I stopped asking!”

“Jesus Christ, all of this over a fucking dance? You were practically fucking Josh all night, and I haven’t said a word about it.”

“That’s a lie, but we’ll unpack that later.” You scoffed. “It’s not about a dance, Jake. It’s about effort.”

“Effort? Like I dont give you my entire heart every day?” You opened your mouth to respond, but closed it and proceeded to turn around and walk away. You weren’t willing to have a screaming match in the middle of the street, especially while he was still mad. If there was one thing you knew about Jake, it was that while he was upset, he had very little rationality. “So you’re just going to walk away?” He snapped. You turned on your heels, giving him the dirtiest look you could muster.

“Get in the fucking house. We can talk there.” You pointed in the direction you were walking in. His eyes held the same emotion as yours, but he obliged, anyway. When you saw him start walking towards you, you turned and walked, too. The few minutes it took to get to the house were uncomfortably silent. When you reached the front porch, you unlocked the door and stepped inside. You flicked off the porch light when Jake made his way into the house, too.

You stormed to the kitchen, discarding your purse on the table and throwing your keys beside it. You did your absolute best to make it up the stairs in a stormy fashion while still wearing your heels. You didn’t have much time to gather a thought, because he was hot on your trail. “So what is it, then? If it’s not ‘just about the dancing’?” He mocked you with air quotes, hiking your temper up even more.

“The small things, Jake. Yeah, we wake up to each other every morning, and I get a kiss goodbye, but the small stuff matters. Like dancing. I love to dance, and the only time I’ve ever gotten to dance with you, I had to practically beg you. You’re with some complete stranger, and that’s what you decide to do to get under my skin? That was really low.”

“So you’re mad that I used it against you while Josh was up there singing my fucking song for you?” He took a step closer, face inches from yours. “You got plenty of dancing in with him tonight, I figured you got it all out of your system.”

“You’re missing the. whole. point.” You annunciated your words carefully. “I was up dancing with Josh because you never would! It hurt me because you won’t do that one simple thing with me, ever, even when you know how happy it makes me! And she got to have it with a snap of her god damn fingers, even if it wasn’t for the right reason. I got to watch you do something with another girl when I have to beg you to give it to me.” You sat on the bed, pulling your foot up onto your knee and messing with the strap on your heel.

“Didn’t seem like you missed me too much, tonight.” You closed your eyes, expelling a long breath to calm yourself down.

“I was only dancing with him because I couldn’t dance with you, Jake. I was only hanging out with him because all you wanted to do was argue with me.” You kept your voice steady, trying not to feed into him. “Do you think I prefer dancing with your brother? Getting asked if I’m his girlfriend, when we’ve been dating for half a decade?” You inquired, still messing with the strap of your heel. He let out a sigh, grabbing your ankle and pulling your foot up to rest on his thigh. He carefully undid the strap of your shoe and slipped it off your foot. He held his hand out, motioning for you to lift your other leg. You gave him a look of confusion in response.

“What? I’m mad at you, it doesn’t mean I don’t fucking love you.” He grumbled. “Give me your other foot!” He ordered, anger still present in his tone. You did as he said, allowing him to free you of your other shoe. When it was off and both of them were discarded in the closet, he resumed the conversation. “Certainly looked like you were enjoying yourself.” He finally replied. “With your… hmmm, what was it?” He asked, placing his fingers on his chin and pretending to ponder the answer. “Oh, yeah! Your confidant, your partner in crime, your soulmate!” He bellowed. “Who can only dream of being your boyfriend!” He let out a mocking sigh, laced with fake dreaminess.

“I don’t understand why tonight, after years of being together, Josh and I’s friendship is bothering you. You think if there was really a problem, you would have said something, oh, I don’t know, years ago?” You stood again, feeling more secure without your shoes on.

“Because you were using him to get under my skin!”

“God, you’re insufferable sometimes!” You shouted, pushing past him to go back downstairs. He was on his game, not letting the sudden movement deter him. He followed you as you walked. “You were doing the exact same thing! And in case you forgot, you were being a dick before we even got to the bar! I gave you ample opportunity to speak up, or go home, or just tell me what was bothering you, but you insisted you were fine and that you wanted to stay. Then she comes around, and all of your issues are suddenly resolved! You’re laughing and joking like you would any other day. All it took was for me to step out of your way for ten minutes.” You grumbled the last part, making your way into the kitchen. You opened the fridge, grabbing a water bottle and cracking the lid. You took a long drink before recapping it and setting it on the counter, just in case he pissed you off enough for you to throw it at him.

“If anything, it just gave you an excuse to be alone with him.” Jake hissed. “It’s not just about the dancing, or the karaoke, or the even the ‘funny’ passes. He looks at you like he’s waiting for me to fuck up, just so he can swoop in and finally have you all to himself. He practically undresses you with his eyes every time you walk in a room. Or maybe because it always seems like he makes you happier than I can. He dances with you, and sings with you, and buys you all of those gifts that he always just seems to know that you want.” You spun on your heels, facing him with a little bit softer of an expression than any of the previous.

“That’s what you’re worried about? You think he makes me happier than you do?” His eyes darted away from you for a moment, likely to avoid letting you know how he was really feeling. “Jesus Christ, Jake, are you blind?” He didn’t answer, causing a resurgence of annoyance in you.

“If I’m the only thing standing in the way of you being with him, go ahead. I’m not stopping you.” He snapped. “He shits on me all day at the studio, then I get to come home and watch him put his hands all over you, my girlfriend, and I’m the bad guy for being upset?” Your vision turned red, infuriated at the thought of him even thinking that. You took a step towards him, your nose practically touching his.

“If you’re so mad at him, why the fuck are you taking it out on me?” You questioned. “I told you, I would have been more than happy at home with you. You know why? Because I fucking love you, you idiot. I could say it a million times, and you wouldn’t care. Because obviously it’s all about Josh, and how I’ve been meticulously planning on using you to get to him for half a decade. Just waiting for the right time to strike, yeah?” You spat. “It doesn’t matter what I say, because no matter what, you’re always right, hmm?” You pushed your finger into his chest, really extenuating your point. “Nobody else in the entire world is allowed to have an opinion, because Jake knows it all! He’s got it all figured out!” He grabbed your wrist, forcing it down to your side and stopping you from prodding at his chest again. You were nose to nose, chests heaving with anger. You weren’t sure if he was going to tell you to get out, or if you were going to leave before he got the chance. You didn’t have a clue as to what was to come next, but you certainly weren’t expecting him to spin you around and push you against the island countertop. He let go of your wrist, grabbing a fistful of your hair instead. He pulled your head back gently, just so your ear was touching his lips.

“Did you like him singing that song for you?” He asked, his voice low and his breath tickling your skin. As angry as you were, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of arousal at your new found position. When you didn’t answer, his grip on your hair tightened. “Answer me.”

“Yeah.” You hissed, just for arguments sake. In reality, it was nothing compared to when Jake played it for you. Josh singing it had nothing on when Jake sang it, or hummed the lyrics to you. Josh had nothing on Jake, period, but you were too stubborn to stroke his ego.

“Yeah?” Jake questioned, his knuckles white against the hold on your hair. His hips were pressed into your ass, locking you against the counter indefinitely. “You’d rather go home with him?” He seethed. “Have him take your high heels off, wake up to him every morning?” Your heart was drumming against your chest. You weren’t willing to give in to him, but you also weren’t sure where he was going with his point. When you didn’t answer, he used his free hand to yank your skirt over your ass. His hand graced your exposed skin, the touch almost too gentle to fit with the current situation. After a moment of silence, he lifted his hand and brought it down forcefully, causing you to gasp at the contact. The ring that he adorned on his finger left a sharp sting long after the slap was delivered. “Fucking answer me.”

“N-no,” you stuttered, all of your confidence fleeing you. In place of it, there was a growing arousal between your legs and your tendency to submit to him was showing.

“That changed awfully fast.” He taunted. His hand still rested on your ass, but he’d moved it closer to your hip and held you in a firm grip, instead. You could feel his erection growing against you; the position alone was enough to get him going. “Color.” He barked.

“Green.” You said without hesitation. His fingers hooked into the side of your panties, his fist still anchored in your hair. He took a small step away from you, freeing your underwear from your body and letting them fall to your ankles.

“Since you don’t know how to make up your mind, I’ll do it for you.” He explained. You bit the inside of your lip, not daring to make a peep. “By the time I’m done with you, he won’t even be a thought in that pretty little head of yours.” He dipped his hand between your thighs, spreading them apart slightly. “The only word you’ll be able to say is my fucking name. M’gonna remind you why you come home to me.” His fingers ran through your cunt, getting a feel for the wetness that had already begun to pool. “That sound okay, angel?”

“Yes, sir.” You whispered, already knowing the rules to the game.

“Almost don’t want to let you cum. Haven’t been a very good girl for me, have you?” He hummed, spreading your arousal up to your clit. He swirled his finger around it for a moment, producing a whine from your throat. “So needy already. Pathetic.” He noted, applying a bit more pressure to his area of focus. You closed your eyes, losing yourself to the pleasure after hours of torture.

“M’sorry, sir.” You pleaded, knowing it was in your best interest to grovel for a while. “Promise I’ll be good for you from now on.”

“Come on, you expect me to forgive you that easily?” He chuckled. You didn’t respond, only let out a shaky breath when he removed his finger from your clit. “Gonna have to make it up to me, angel. You know that.” You heard him undo his belt buckle, pulling it from the loops on his pants. He set it on the counter cautiously, making you believe its use for the night was not over. He unzipped his zipper and freed himself from his pants in a swift motion. He tugged at your hair, silently telling you he wanted you to turn and face him. You did so, almost breathless at the sight of his face. His hand was still in your hair, pulling your head upwards slightly, making sure you couldn’t look away from him.

You wanted to break character so bad, to kiss him and tell him you were sorry, and that you loved him. You wanted to tell him everything you were too angry to communicate before, but you stayed silent. Instead, you gave an innocent bat of your eyelashes. He leaned down, likely feeling the same way, and pressed his lips to yours. It was sweet at first, but quickly turned needy and sloppy. You reached out for him, pulling him closer by the fabric of his shirt. You thought you would get in trouble for it, but in that moment, he allowed it. The small act satiated his need to feel wanted. You messed with the buttons on his shirt, trying to free him from it. After a few moments of struggle, you managed to slip it off his shoulders. He let go of you only for long enough to rid himself of it, and returned to his previous hold. He broke from the kiss, realizing he’d been far too accommodating for his liking. He raised his eyebrow, as if he expected you to know what he wanted. After a moment, you caught on, luckily just fast enough.

You sunk down to your knees, now eye level with his exposed cock. He still had his hand in your hair, holding it out of the way for you. You reached up, wrapping your hand around him before lowering your mouth to the tip and slowly bringing him into your mouth. You started slow, working yourself up to speed. He didn’t push you; as dominant as he was during sex, he was always hyper-aware of your comfortability. After a few moments, you started to hear a few curses fall from his lips. It gave you the encouragement to take him further, relaxing your jaw and your throat as you pushed your head down on him.

“Fuck, baby.” He sighed, unable to hold back his words anymore. You hummed against him, continuing your pace. Soon after, he tightened his fist in your hair, holding your head in place. He thrusted forward into your mouth, keeping a steady rhythm with his hips. You tried your best to keep yourself relaxed, making it easier for you to continue on. “Doing so good, sweetheart.” He groaned. The praise sent a shiver down your spine, your excitement for what was to come next was debilitating.

He sped his movements a bit more, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat with each re-entry. You felt tears from in the corner of your eyes, unsure how long you could keep up with him. But, you were more determined to please him than anything else, because it always meant you’d receive a fantastic reward. His head was thrown back in ecstasy, feeling too good to even look down at your face. As the tears rolled down your cheeks, you felt yourself gag, throat constricting against him.

His cock twitched in your mouth, bringing him back to reality for a moment. He pulled back, completely removing himself from you. “Should just cum in your mouth and leave you here like this.” He theorized, trying to attain his earlier tone of voice but failing. His chest was heaving with every breath, eyes glazed with lust. He wanted you just as bad as you wanted him, and he didn’t have the willpower to walk away from you, now. “You wouldn’t like that, would you?” He asked, his hand falling from your hair to your face, using his thumb to wipe away a few stray tears.

“No, sir.” You answered, finally regaining yourself a bit.

“I know, baby.” He sighed, realizing he could likely get off just by watching you looking at him that way. “Couldn’t do that to you. You know that.” You nodded, grateful he drew that conclusion. “Stand up for me.” You did as he said, raising slowly and ensuring you had your balance, not wanting to topple over. He brought you into a kiss, hands pulling at your shirt. If he knew you didn’t care, he would have ripped it off of you. He managed to free it from your upper half, pulling out of the kiss to bring it over your head. “No bra?” He inquired, fingers trailing over your now exposed torso. He brought his thumb to your hardened nipple, running the pad over it before pinching it between his fingers. You let out a gasp at the suddenness of his actions. “Such a little whore.” He quickly took his hand and swiped away any items littering the island. Your eyes widened at the action, watching as papers and books tumbled to the floor. He didn’t react, only placed his palms just below your ass, lifting you up onto the counter.

The cold countertop took you as a shock, causing you to tense for a moment. “Only for you.” You finally replied, watching him as he anchored your skirt above your hips.

“Didn’t seem that way tonight.” He muttered, forcefully shoving your legs apart. He took a step back for a minute, admiring the obscene display he’d left you in. You rolled your eyes.

“Jake-“ he cut you off with his eyes, his glare louder than any words he could speak.

“Kind of humiliating, isn’t it? When everybody at the bar thinks Josh gets to take you home, thinks he gets to see you like this?” He asked, not advancing any closer to you. You didn’t answer, just watched him. “How do you think that makes me feel? Watching you run around like a whore with my brother, begging him for attention?” Your face flushed at his words, embarrassed at the degradation.

“M’sorry, Jake.” You mumbled, not daring to move, in hopes of keeping him in good spirits.

“Are you? Or are you just saying it to get what you want?” He pried.

“I mean it.” You finally looked up to meet his eyes. He barely acknowledged your words before speaking again.

“Because you’re mine. You do know that, right?” You gave him a nod. “Nobody else gets to see you like this, ever. Nobody else gets to see how pretty you look when you’re desperate to be fucked.” He gave a small smirk, grabbing one of the chairs and pulling it over to him. He positioned it directly in front of you, taking a seat on it. You felt a sinking feeling in your stomach, having an idea about what he was planning. He leaned against the back of it, never letting his eyes leave you. “You know that, right?” He pressed.

“Yes, sir.” You affirmed.

“Show me, then.”

“W-what?” You stuttered, wanting clarification.

“Touch yourself. M’gonna watch. You’re going to show me all of the parts of you only I get to see.” He ordered. You didn’t move right away, wondering if he was serious. “Do you have a problem with that?” His tone was condescending and his gaze was burning into you.

“N-no, sir.” You shook your head.

“Good.” He raised his palm to his face, spitting on it. He lowered his hand to his cock, stroking himself as he waited for you to start. “I don’t have all day, angel.” He stated, almost sounding bored. You broke out of your shock, bracing one hand behind you to hold yourself up and lowering your other hand to your heat. You gathered your arousal, slowly running your fingers through your cunt, really giving him a show. You saw his jaw clench as he drew in a long breath, silently telling you he approved of your actions. “If you’re gonna act like a whore, you’re gonna get treated like one.” He explained, eyes laser focused on your fingers. “You love the attention so much, so I’ll give it to you. But you’ve gotta work for it, and you better not cum unless I say you can.”

“Yes, sir.” You let your fingers trail up to your clit, rubbing small circles. Your breath hitched in your throat, pleasure stemming from the sensation, but also from the sight of him touching himself. You had no idea how he could ever doubt your love for him, because you were hopelessly and utterly infatuated with him. Every movement, or word, or expression always made your heart flutter. He was perfect, and nobody in the world could ever compare to him. You applied a bit more pressure, letting your head fall back at the feeling. A quiet moan escaped your lips, hitting him with force. He closed his eyes, trying to stop himself from getting up and fucking you right then and there.

You lifted your hand that was supporting you and leaned back on your elbow, instead, giving him a better view. You brought your hand to your breast, the pad of your thumb drifting over your nipple while you touched yourself at the same time. You really wanted to give him a show, part of it being because it was a show of an apology, and the other part being quite selfish. You knew that the faster you gave him what he wanted, the more likely he was to get you off. Your eyes drifted back to him, settling on his face and soaking up every bit of his expression. He had a scowl, and his jaw was hard set. His eyes were almost feral looking, and he was watching you intently. His hand was wrapped around himself, slowly but steadily moving. It was just enough to get a bit of relief. You could tell he wanted to save his stamina for when he finally decided to fuck you.

“Tell me what you’re thinking about.” He ordered.

“You, Jake.” You sighed, another groan escaping your mouth. His breath caught in his throat at the sound of you saying his name like that.

“Mhm,” he made a noise of confirmation “You better be.”

“I am,” you promised, catching his gaze. “Only you.” Your steady pace mixed with you being incredibly turned on was causing a knot to form in the pit of your stomach. He knew you well enough to pick up on it by your expression alone.

“Don’t.” He warned. You gave him a pleading look, hoping he’d have a bit of mercy on you. In response, he only shook his head. You let out a whine, slowing your movements to hold on a little longer. You felt the pressure ease, relief crossing your face. “So you can listen,” he noted. “Good job, baby.” The praise was heavenly, washing over you with a warm embrace. You knew he couldn’t keep up with the current situation for much longer; he was eager to get his hands on you again. He didn’t have to say it aloud for you to know that. You took a break from your clit, slipping your hand down a bit further.

You slipped your middle and ring finger inside you, making sure to keep your eyes on him, wanting to see his reaction. You gave him an innocent smile, setting him on fire. You slowly pumped the digit into yourself, clamping down on your bottom lip with your teeth and letting out a sigh of pleasure. You couldn’t keep your eyes on him for very long, equating it to torture in your mind. You only had to work at yourself for a moment, riling him up faster by the second. “God, I wish it was you touching me, instead, Jake.” You whined, eyelids fluttering closed for a second.

It was almost like you flipped a switch; suddenly, the sultry looks and lust-filled noises drove him over the edge. He stood, almost knocking the chair over as he did so, and advanced towards you. His hand found the back of your neck, pulling you up to meet his lips. There was no gentle nature to be found, just volatile desire that you couldn’t quite wrap your head around. Once he’d fulfilled his need to kiss you, both of his hands grabbed you by the hips and roughly brought you to the edge of the island. He grabbed your wrist, abruptly moving your hand to your side. He replaced it with his own, fingers gathering your arousal and pushing inside you. He let his thumb slide up to your bundle of nerves, brushing it over the sensitive area every time he pumped his fingers into you. You were over the moon at the new found contact, although abrupt. You were trying to wrap your head around the rapid change while welcoming it at the same time.

“F-fuck, Jake.” You moaned, letting the weight of your head fall back into his hand.

“That’s better, isn’t it?” He whispered, trying to cover his own tone of neediness. He didn’t need a verbal answer to his question; your expression was more than enough. As much as he was dominant, he was also a giver. Knowing he was making you feel good was more than enough to satisfy him. Watching you was great, but it was nothing compared to him being the reason behind your pleasure. His fingers curled upwards ever so slightly, hitting that spot inside you he knew all too well. “How fast can you cum for me, angel?”

“I-i don’t..” you trailed off, only focused on the feeling of his hands working magic on you.

“You don’t what?” He asked. You could hear the smirk in his voice without even looking at him. “Make it quick, before I change my mind.” He leaned down, making you lean back, too. He pulled one of your nipples into his mouth, gently grazing his teeth over it. You hated to admit that he already had you teetering on the edge. After years of practice, he knew you well enough to know exactly what to do. An expert of sorts, if you had to label it. You reached a hand out, grabbing on to his bicep for support while your other one was anchored on the countertop. You had already pushed yourself to the edge once, and it wasn’t hard for him to get you back there.

“Jake, m’gonna cum.” You announced. His pace didn’t change, only encouraging you further. It was embarrassing at how fast he could bring you to an orgasm.

“That’s it, baby. Come on.” His voice was low, only audible due to how close he was to you. He said it like he needed it, too. It only took the small push from him to send you into your first orgasm. Your legs were shaking, your arm barely holding you up. You barely managed his name through the mess of vulgar noises that came from your mouth. Instead of coaxing you through your orgasm, his movements never tapered. By the time you were coming down from the high, the overstimulation had already started to take over.

“Jake!” You gasped, unable to free yourself from his grip.

“You’re fine.” He said, a hint of venom still in his tone. Your eyes were screwed shut, the unpleasant feeling starting to drive you insane. He noticed the look of discomfort on your face, questioning himself for a moment. “Color.” He whispered, the act completely out the window. His thumb was still working over your clit, just with less pressure.

“Green.” You hissed, knowing deep down that you could handle it. You knew the reward after was worth the moment of discomfort. He wasn’t sure if he believed you, so he gave you another chance to speak up. “Green.” You said again, noticing he was holding back a bit. At the assurance, he continued working at you. The feeling was intense, but you coached yourself through it, and eventually, the knot in your belly tightened once more, although not fully covering the uncomfortable sensation the movements were producing. When your next orgasm tore through you, it was powerful enough to make you lose the strength in your arms. If not for Jake holding you up, you would have fallen backwards. When you relaxed against him, he slowly withdrew his hand from you. Your chest was heaving, sweat glistening on you, and your face was flushed. He took in the sight, letting the picture burn a memory in his brain.

He only let you recover for a moment before ridding himself of his pants completely and sinking to his knees. You let out a groan, barely back to earth from his previous actions. His eyes looked up to you, wordlessly checking to see if you were ready to keep going. He didn’t speak again, but placed a few kisses on the inside of your thighs. Just when you relaxed into him, thinking maybe he’d gotten his fill of being an asshole, he let his teeth sink into the sensitive skin. You jumped slightly at the sudden feeling, not expecting it. He continued on, barely aware of your reaction, and sucked a few marks into you. By the time he’d worked himself up to your cunt, you had surpassed your overstimulation, and quickly became eager for him to continue on.

“You want it, don’t you?” He teased, mouth only inches away from your heat.

“Yeah,” you breathed.

“How bad?” His eyes flickered up to your face again. Your lips turned downward, almost into a frown.

“You want me to beg for you?” You questioned, not realizing how challenging your tone sounded. His eyes turned stony, eyebrows furrowing slightly.

“Thought you said you wanted me, angel?” He pulled back slightly. You felt your stomach sink, hoping you hadn’t made too much of a mistake.

“I do, Jake. I’m sorry.” You rushed out.

“Then fucking tell me how bad you want it.” His scowl had returned, his order clearly stating that he wasn’t in the mood for any argument. You realized it was less about dominance, and more about him needing to hear the words, needing to feel needed. You reached down, placing your hand on his cheek and letting your thumb run over the soft skin.

“So bad, Jake. I need you.” You whispered. Involuntarily, he leaned into the touch. You could feel his rigidness soften, almost immediately calmed by the feeling of your hand on him. “Please.” You gave him a look of desire, softening your features. “I want it so bad, I’ll do anything. Only you can make me feel this good.” That seemed to be exactly what he needed to hear. He didn’t make you work any harder for it; before you were even finished your sentence, his mouth was on you. You let your fingers tangle in his hair, holding on to him while his tongue ran through you. You let out a sigh of pleasure when he focused on your clit. His fingers sunk into your skin, holding you as if he was scared you were going to get away, sure to leave marks in the morning. He was working at you as if he starved, cautious as to not miss out on a second of the experience.

You were unable to contain any of your moans, giving him exactly what he wanted to hear from you. You’re tugged at the roots of his hair, another way of letting him know how good he was making you feel. He pulled back from you for a moment, moving his thumb in place of his tongue. “Does that feel good, baby?”

“So good, Jake.” You struggled to get the words out, too caught up in the moment.

“Don’t be shy. I wanna hear all of those pretty noises.” He ordered. He didn’t let you respond, already having his tongue take over again. He slipped his index and middle finger back inside you, adding the extra bit of stimulation for you. He was determined to fulfil his earlier promise; he wanted you so fucked out that he was the only thing you could think of. Little to his knowledge, he didn’t have to do much for that to be true. He was always at the front of your mind, wiggling his way into every thought and action. This part was just a bonus for you.

In retaliation to his statement, you decided to up your game a bit; if he wanted to hear noises, you were more than willing to give it to him. The moans and curses you let out were pornographic, sure to be heard by the neighbours if they listened hard enough.

You could tell he was enjoying himself, too, humming against you and taking in sharp breaths when a sound he particularly liked was heard.

His fingers curled upwards in just the right way, causing you to give an involuntary tug on his his hair. He only used it at motivation, ensuring to repeat the same action with each movement. His skills at guitar had paid off fantastically for you in the bedroom. “Fuck,” you groaned, feeling the familiar pressure build once more. “God, please don’t stop, Jake. Feels so good.” You whined, letting your head fall back in ecstasy. He took the praise to heart, making sure to keep his movements steady. He was focusing on keeping his hand and tongue at the same speed, wanting to allow you to get the most of the pleasure. It didn’t take much longer for you to come undone, gripping at his hair and uttering curses. He only eased up when you started to come down, taking the opportunity to get a good look at you. Your eyeliner was beginning to run, and your lipstick was smudged. Your hair was messy and your eyelids were heavy as you looked down to meet his gaze. He had to admire your beauty even in the disarray. He thought you were the most beautiful thing that ever walked the earth.

He removed his fingers, standing in an instant. He took hold of your hips again, pulling you as close to the edge of the table as he could. Your head was still spinning as he used his hand to line himself up with your entrance. He had no more willpower to wait any longer. You both let out a sigh of relief when he pushed himself inside of you, the feeling intensified by the lingering sensitivity of your last orgasm. The position was a bit awkward, making it hard for him to move, but it didn’t bother either of you very much. The intimacy was what you craved, and it was giving you just that. He brought one of his hands to your face, letting his thumb trail over your bottom lip. You parted your lips, pulling the digit into your mouth and lightly suctioning your cheeks around it. He let out a long exhale through his nose, the tail end of it sounding more like a growl produced from his chest. He slowly moved his hips, rocking into you agonizingly slow. You opted to just enjoy it while it lasted, knowing the gentle nature would be out the window soon.

He pulled his thumb from your mouth, a small pop sounding as he did so. His hand drifted towards your neck, fingers ghosting over your skin. His thrusts didn’t speed, but did get more forceful. You couldn’t help but let out a gasp as the tip of his cock brushed your cervix, sending a jolt of pleasurable pain through you. “Just like that, baby?” He asked, eyes boring into you. His fingers tightened slightly on your neck, leaving you to believe his concerned inquiry was a bit misleading. “Does that feel good?” You hooked your leg around his waist, drawing him even closer. It gave him the answer he was looking for, although nonverbal. “Such a dirty little whore.” He hummed, clearly pleased by your action. “Is this all you wanted? To get fucked?” His eyes scanned your face, the flame still dancing in his pupils. “Didn’t matter whose bed you were in, as long as there was a cock inside you?” His fingers tightened again, finally enough pressure to restrict the blood flow. “Or did want to go home with him?”

He knew you were unable to answer; he was talking to himself, and taunting you in the process. He knew the minute he took his hand away from your neck, you’d be talking back, and he wasn’t particularly fond of that idea. He leaned in, lips hovering over your ear as he fucked into you. He knew he’d have to release his hold on you soon; he may have been willing to degrade you, a few slaps or spankings, but never seriously harm you. He didn’t want you to fear he would, either. “You think he’d fuck you like this? Make you feel this good?” He whispered, breath hot and tone gravelly. He clamped down on your neck tighter once more, completely restricting any blood or airflow. He felt you let out a pointless, choked gasp, not getting anything from it. He bit down on your earlobe, one final move before he loosened his hand. You let in a long, desperate breath, filling your lungs as much as you could. You coughed, sputtering for a moment at the sudden burst of oxygen. He let his fingers gently massage the area he’d just assaulted, wanting you to know without breaking character that he was, in fact, just acting. His head was still down by your ear, scared if he looked up he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from cumming.

You were agitated from his words, feeling the bratty part of you start to surface once more. If he was so willing to talk down on you, you weren’t afraid to give it back. You hadn’t fully thought out the whole thing, only depending on your bruised feelings for clarity. “Don’t be so cocky. You call this fucking?” You challenged, voice was still raspy from his hand around your throat. He stiffened, pulling back from you as if you’d burned him.

“What did you say?” His hips stopped, too. His expression was feral, and his body tense.

“What, you can dish it out, but you can’t take it?” A smirk was playing on your lips. “If you’re not going to do it right, I can go call-“ your sentence was cut short by his palm retracting from your throat and colliding with your cheek, throwing your head to the side. It caught you completely off guard; your train of thought disappearing and his body language now anything but loving. Admittedly, he’d hit you a bit harder than intended, but he was in no state of mind to cater to you. Without so much as an utter of concern, he pulled out of you roughly grabbed your hips, yanking you off the table and onto your feet.

You didn’t have time to process the change before he spun you around. His hand found your hair and he forced your upper half down onto the countertop. He wasn’t gentle with his touch, shoving your face into the table until your cheek was squished against the wood. He took in the sight, your skirt still pushed up to your bellybutton. In a rash decision reliant on emotion, he grabbed a fistful of the bunched up fabric and gave a hard pull, busting it at the seams and ripping it from your body. He could buy you another to make up for it, he decided. Now less concerned about the sex, and more worried about your favourite skirt, you opened your mouth to protest. “Jake-“

“Shut the fuck up.” Your time for talking was over; you’d pushed him just a bit too far. He let the now torn clothing fall to the floor, grabbing his belt from beside you. He maneuvered it so it was folded in half, all whilst still holding you to the table. “You think he could do a better job?” He seethed, running the cold leather across your bare ass. When you didn’t respond, he lifted the belt and brought it down with force, causing a sharp sound and a lasting sting. “Do you really think anybody could?” His hand in your hair tightened, driving your cheek even harder into the table. He had no care for your comfortability, now. “I should just leave you here, make you get yourself off, instead, since I’m not doing it right. Would you like that?”

“N-no,” you squeaked, mentally preparing for another blow. Just as you expected, another searing sensation spread across your backside, causing you to jump.

“If you want him so bad, then go. But don’t think for a second he can give you half of what I can.” You could hear the sneer in his voice. “Do you understand me?” You weren’t sure if he wanted you to answer, or if it was rhetorical. When the belt flashed across your skin the third time, it was made clear he wanted a verbal confirmation. “I said, do you understand me?”

“Y-yes, sir.” Tears were spilling onto your cheeks, teeth grinding at the pain from the leather. But, you had pushed him, and you were more than aware of the consequences when you misbehaved.

“Don’t you ever speak to me like that again.” His tone dropped, less authority and more finality. You heard the belt fall to the floor, followed immediately by him lining himself up with you. There was no adjustment period before he pushed himself into you again, taking no mercy with the power behind his hips. You let out a yelp when he slammed into your cervix, but he was in no hurry to ask if you were okay. You had no time to recover before he repeated the same action.

His hips were moving at a brutal pace, all of the anger from the night being let out at once and building up to a dramatic climax. He was still holding your hair, never easing up on the weight of his hand holding you down. His other hand was holding your hip, keeping you in place while he fucked you. There was no ability to keep yourself quiet; the sounds falling from your lips were obscene, pleasure bordering pain creating a whole new feeling. He pulled your hips back a bit, giving more space between your legs and the edge of the table. He slipped his hand around to the front of you, fingers finding your clit with expert precision.

“How’s this? Good enough for you?” He growled. You couldn’t find the words to respond, eyes squeezed shut as all of the stimulation acted together to bring you to the brink of insanity. His finger danced over your already sensitive bundle of nerves, coaxing another orgasm out of you almost effortlessly. He was almost smiling at the noises you were making, arrogant enough to know how good he was making you feel.

“F-fuck, Jake,” you managed out, some form of confirmation that you heard his words.

“What’s wrong?” He tormented, voice wavering slightly at his rapid movements. “You asked for it, now you can’t handle it?” He showed no signs of slowing down or easing up; he was determined to prove a point, now, and he wasn’t backing down. He heard a familiar moan fall from your lips, your walls tightening against him slightly as you did so. He knew you were close, and it was only encouraging him further. Within a few seconds, you were caught up in another orgasm, all of your muscles tense and your throat coarse from crying out his name. You couldn’t allow yourself to relax as you came down, his hips nor his fingers letting up.

“Jake, please, I can’t.” You pleaded.

“You can, and you will.” He dismissed you, fully aware of the state you were in. He could see the tears staining your skin, your mascara fully running down your face. Your cheeks were red, burning with heat, and sweat glistening on your forehead. “Color.”

“Green, fuck!” You expelled, frustrated with your own unwillingness to give in. Every nerve in your body was on fire, begging you to stop, or take a break, but you were still enjoying yourself. You knew he was, too, and that was most of your motivation. He continued as if there was no question asked in the first place, never easing up on your clit, either. You were on the brink of screams, desperately trying to contain the moans ripping from your chest.

“You gonna give me another one, angel?” He asked, venom still present in his tone. You knew he wasn’t being so generous with orgasms for your sake, it was solely a personal agenda for him to prove a point. You were completely unwilling to cum for him again, but his fingers were forcing your body to betray you. He knew it, too, only allowing the cockiness to grow. “You ready to admit it, now? You want to tell me the truth?” He hissed, eyes never leaving your face. Before you could reply, the pressure in your belly peaked once more. He’d successfully forced another orgasm from you, letting the pride settle in his bones. Before you fully came down, he was already lifting your upper body off of the table so you were standing. He was aware of your lack of strength, assuring he was holding you tight enough so you wouldn’t fall over.

He pulled out of you, still supporting you with his arm, and turned you around. You were exhausted, completely at his disposal. You weren’t the least but worried, knowing he would take care of you; if you said the word, he’d stop immediately. “Arms around me.” He told you, a little gentler than his earlier orders. You obeyed, snaking your arms around his neck. His hands fell to your ass, lifting you up in one swift motion. You wrapped your legs around him, almost as if it were muscle memory. He carried you over to the wall, pressing your back into it. As much as he enjoyed the accessibility of the last position, the simplicity of doing whatever he pleased to you, he wanted to see your face. He kept one hand firm on your ass, holding you up, and guided himself back inside you with his other. The position change had given you a minute to calm down, just as he was hoping it would. He rested there for a moment, not making any further advances.

“Look at me.” He snapped. You lifted your eyes, barely keeping them open, and met his gaze. His expression was hard, but no longer malicious. He couldn’t find it in himself to stay angry with you; the sight of your face so close to his was enough to immediately soften his heart. “I want to hear you say it, angel.” He whispered, stare burning into you. “Tell me I’m the only one who can make you feel like this.”

“You are, Jake.” You breathed, unable to lie about it and risk any more punishment. “Only you can make me feel this good. Nobody could replace you.” Your voice was quiet, all of your energy completely drained. But, you were speaking from the heart, and he could tell. He leaned in, resting his forehead on yours. Slowly, he started rocking his hips into you again. The feeling was so much different, now. His movements careful, filled with love. He’d proved his point beyond intention, and he was well aware of it. All of the anger was gone, and he just wanted to be close to you, now.

“You’re mine, baby. You know that.” He hummed. “Nobody else even gets to think about you, like this.”

“M’yours, Jake. All yours.” You promised, hoping he’d lean forward just enough so you could kiss him. “I don’t want anyone else.” Your fight was gone, now, not as if there was a lot there in the first place. Your back talk seemed to hurt him a little more than intended, and all you wanted was to make up for it.

“I know, honey.” He assured you. “Me, too.” His sincerity was staggering, the softness of those two words were the most profound vulnerability he’d ever shown during sex. You felt like you were seeing right through him. “Gonna take care of you, now. Okay?” You managed a nod, filled with relief when he leaned forward to connect his mouth with yours. You tangled your fingers in the hair at the base of his head, holding him to you. You didn’t want him to pull back, savouring the loving gesture as if your life depended on it. The sensation of him fucking into you so carefully while he was kissing you was more euphoric than anything else you’d felt that night. Not often did you get slow sex with Jake, and it was just as phenomenal, if not more. Something about the emotion, the complete transparency, was unmatched.

“I love you,” you mumbled against his lips, causing his fingers to tighten on you. He pulled back slightly, just enough space between your mouths to speak.

“Fuck, y/n, say it again.” He ordered, but it sounded more like a plea.

“I love you, Jake. So much.” You groaned, losing yourself to the feeling of him inside you. You were sure there was nothing that could feel better than that.

“I love you, y/n.” He closed his eyes, jaw clenching as he rode through the blissful proclamation. You could tell he was close, and you were eager for him to get there. “God, you feel so good.” You let your hand come up to his cheek, holding his face while your thumb drifted over the soft skin. “Can you cum for me one more time?” You nodded as best you could with his forehead against yours.

“Just kiss me, please.” He didn’t need to be asked twice, his lips were on yours again in an instant. You kissed him with a hunger that could only be satisfied by him. He picked up his pace a bit, silently begging you to cum, just so he could, too. He had been holding himself back for long enough that it had started to become painful. He pulled you down on him every time he thrusted, just for a little more impact. That was enough for you; with the added pressure, he reached the spot inside you that only he could. Your legs tightened around him and your fingers grasped at him, letting him know you were there again. He pulled back, wanting the full view this time. Your head fell backwards against the wall, eyes closed in pleasure. You breathed his name between moans, finding it impossible to think of anything but him as your final orgasm washed over you.

At the sound of his name spoken so beautifully, and the sight of your blissful expression, he couldn’t help but lose himself to the feeling, too. He pulled you down on him one last time, holding you there as he spilled his release into you. He slumped over, pressing you further into the wall and letting his head rest in the crook of your neck. He was breathless, completely overpowered by euphoria. He didn’t withdraw right away, wanting to savour the moment of intimacy with you. Nothing but heavy breathing sounded through the kitchen, both of you chest to chest and feeling your heartbeats against each other. He turned his head inwards towards your neck, placing a few kisses into it. He left a few light marks, just as a final reminder of the entire night.

“You okay?” He asked, still resting his head on your shoulder.

“Yeah,” you sighed. “Are you?”

“Yeah.” He murmured. “I’m so sorry.”

“Me, too.” He finally pulled back from you, placing a kiss to your forehead.

“Bath?” He asked. You nodded, giving him a small smile. He carried you to the bathroom carefully, not pulling out of you yet in avoidance of a mess. Once you were in the bathroom, he withdrew and let you get cleaned up. He flicked on the faucet for the bathtub, letting the warm water run before closing the drain stopper. He grabbed your package of makeup wipes pulling a few out and setting it back on the counter. “C’mere.” He whispered. You turned towards him, leaning into his hand reaching for you. He gently wiped at the smudged makeup, cleaning you up as best he could. He discarded the dirty wipes in the trash and placed a kiss on your lips.

By the time he finished, the bathtub was full and more than ready for the both of you. He flipped off the faucet, helping you in first. As you settled in, he couldn’t help but notice the marks littering your thighs and ass. He felt a sinking feeling of regret, checking your face for where he’d slapped you. It was red, slightly irritated, but seemed as though it would fade away soon. There was a small welt on your cheek from where his ring sat on his finger. He got in, too, settling behind you and pulling you into him. The warm water soothed your aching muscles, allowing you to fully relax into his hold. With your back pressed against him, you were fully surrounded in comfort. You rested your head against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around you. After a moment, he lifted his hand to your cheek, fingers gently running over the inflamed area.

“I’m sorry, baby.” He said, lips turned down into a frown. “I shouldn’t have been so rough with you.”

“I’m okay.” You promised, turning your head and placing a kiss to his thumb. “Let’s just… never do that again. The sex was great, but I don’t like fighting with you. I also really didn’t like whatever we were doing at the bar… it was gross and childish.”

“I agree. No girl in the world deserve the time of day, especially when I have you to come home to. I started the whole thing. I know you and Josh would never do that to me. You guys really weren’t doing anything out of the ordinary, I was just in a shitty mood.”

“Yeah, but I knew you were upset. I shouldn’t have pushed you. I was being an asshole, and I really shouldn’t have let him sing that song. I knew it was a bad idea when I saw it come up on the screen.”

“You didn’t pick it?” He asked, fingers still caressing the spot on your face where he’d slapped you.

“No, of course not, Jake. I was mad at you, but I’d never go that far.” His stomach sank.

“I’m sorry I danced with her. I knew it would hurt you, and it was wrong. I shouldn’t have assumed you would do that, either.”

“That did hurt me, a lot.” You admitted, feeling no need to lie about it. “You’ve never really been jealous before. Where the hell did that come from?”

“I don’t know.” He was honest. “I was mad at Josh all day, and when I saw you guys being so nice to each other and dancing to those songs, especially while I was so upset…I guess it just felt like he made you shine a little brighter than I did, tonight. I feel like I dim your light, sometimes.” He mumbled the last part, almost afraid to admit it out loud. You felt your heart break at his words.

“Jake, Josh is my best friend. My brother. Of course I have fun with him, but that’s all it is. Yeah, I love him, but I’ve never once felt that kind of love for him. I’m in love with you. You don’t have to make me shine all of the time, because you complete me. You can’t always make me shine brighter, especially when you’re the one who ignited the flame in the first place.” He had one arm snaked under yours, lazily strewn across your torso just under your chest. He used that arm to pull you closer to him, still letting his fingers dance over your cheek.

“I love you.” He sighed. “I never want to do that again, either. It was so stupid. I never want to hurt you like that again.” He placed a kiss to the top of your head. “I’ll never be able to say I’m sorry enough to make up for it.”

“I’m sorry, too. If me being so close with Josh makes you feel that way, I can take a step back. You’re the most important person to me, no matter what.”

“No, baby. Never bothered me before, I guess I just felt a bit forgotten about. Got in my own head, and instead of talking to you about it, I tried to make you feel the same way. Next time, I promise I’ll talk to you. You’re my most important person, too. Seeing that look on your face when you left the bar made me realize how easy I could lose you, and I never want that to happen.”

“Guess we learned our lesson, then, ‘cause I really don’t want to lose you, either.” You laced your fingers through his, running your thumb over the back of his hand.

“The sex was fantastic, though.” He chuckled after a moment of silence. “I hope I didn’t hurt you too bad. I got a little to caught up in the moment.”

“I’m okay,” you laughed. “Maybe a bit sore, but it was my own fault. Shouldn’t have talked back like that.”

“You were being bratty, weren’t you?” He pondered back to the earlier scene in the kitchen.

“Yeah, but I didn’t mean it. Just wanted to get under your skin.” You giggled, sinking a bit lower into the water.

“I know, beautiful. You did a good job at it, I’ll give you that.”

“Yeah, my ass knows it, too.” You grumbled. He laughed, leaning down and peppering a few kisses over your shoulders. You melted into the touch, happy to have things back to normal.

“Hey, y/n?” He asked, lips still drifting over your skin.

“Hmm?” You hummed, eyes closed in peacefulness.

“I don’t want you to stop dancing with Josh. But I do think that maybe I wouldn’t mind dancing with you, too, if that’s okay.” He whispered. A smile broke onto your lips at his words.

“That’s more than okay, Jake.” He dropped his other arm, wrapping it around you, too. He pulled you into a hug, love completely surrounding you, now. “I love you.”

“I love you, angel. God, I’ll dance with you every day for the rest of my life if it means I get to have you like this.” He sighed. “I was stupid for not wanting to, before. I can sacrifice a little embarrassment to get a smile on that pretty face of yours.” You couldn’t help but laugh again.

“Don’t have to do that to make me smile, baby. You know that. You can have me like this for the rest of your life even if you don’t dance with me.”

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t mind it. I’d do anything to make you happy.” You almost rolled your eyes at the statement. He said it as if he didn’t do that already.

“You already give me the world, Jacob. What more could you do to make me happy?”

“I’ll stop when I can give you the universe, instead of just the world.” You could hear the smile in his voice. “I’ll buy you a new skirt and take you out tomorrow night, make up for everything. Wear your best shoes, cause you won’t be able to get away from the dance floor.” A smile grew on your lips, too.

“Can’t wait.” And you meant it. Not just for the dancing, or a night out, or the promise of a replacement skirt for the one he’d destroyed. You couldn’t wait simply because you were excited to be with him. You were certain you could live the rest of your life deprived of all modern comfort, but if Jake was by your side, you’d be the happiest person to have ever lived.

#greta van fleet #danny gvf #sam gvf #danny wagner #jake gvf #jake kiszka #josh gvf #gvf #sam kiszka #gvf fic #greta van fleet angst #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet imagine #greta van fleet fanfic #greta van fleet fluff #greta van fleet smut #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka smut #jtk #jaket kiszka #josh Kiszka #gvf fanfiction #gvf smut #gvf x reader #gvf angst #gvf imagine #writing #fic #builtbybrokenbells

[bryngmemoney]

✁FASHION FLIRT✃

Megumi Fushiguro x Reader

⭑story masterlist link

tw:none

Writing between messages!!

🪡Chapter Thirty-four: Show

You walked past a couple of models and students, trying to find him. Moving by the side of yet another collection you finally saw Megumi. He was standing there, simply looking around taking in his surroundings. “Megs!” you announced. He slightly jumped in response, then recollected himself once realizing it was you. “Y/n don’t scare me like that.”

“Sorry, but just wanted to see if everything’s good. I just checked in with Yuki and Ino and everything’s in place, do you feel alright?”

Megumi looked around, before sighing and wrapping his arms around your waist, burying his face into your shoulder, of course being careful to not mess anything up.

“Megumi?”

“Hm, yea i’m good, just a little nervous.”

You patted his back in response, pressing a quick kiss to the side of his face that was still visible to you. “You’ll do fine, and if you do happen to mess up I won’t be mad,” you reassured. “Won’t mess up, just don’t wanna embarrass myself.” You laughed a little, while he stood up right once again.

“15 minutes till start time!” someone in the crowd announced.

“Okay well, I’ll see you after, good luck Megs,”

“Mhm, take care love,” he replied in a more hushed tone, “See you after.”

“Who are those people?” You whispered to Maki next to you. “Which ones, the ones in the front?” You hummed in response, signalling that she was right. “They’re photographers, but there is also a few scouts I heard, then of course the ‘judges’ who are helping grade.

“Ah, okay, i’m kinda starting to freak out a bit.”

“Don’t Y/n! I’ve seen your designs and they look super cool, you’ll pass for sure!” You turned towards Yuji next to you, giving him a smile. “Thanks Yuji.”

“No problem!”

A couple minutes after the official start time the lights began dim around you, and brightening on the walkway. “Oh my god it’s starting!” you heard Nobara whisper-shout.

A few collections had gone by now, and you sat with anxiety waiting for yours to show up. Once Yuta walked out, you nudged Maki next to you. “Look it’s yours!” you excitedly whispered. “Yea, I know,” Maki mumbled in response, and although she seemed nonchalant about the whole thing, the slight fidgeting with the end of the skirt she wore was enough to tell you that she was also feeling a little nervous.

After Maki’s finished up, your breath was caught in your throat at seeing Megumi walk out. Transfixed on watching him walk down, you had your complete focus on him. For a split second you met his gaze, and had flashback of the first time you saw him walk during the audition.

“Lovestruck much?” Yuji said while nudging your side. Maki on your other side was fighting back her snicker at your expression. “Oh shut up, he made eye contact with me!”

“Y/n you’re literally dating him.”

“..And here in front of me is fashion student and designer, Y/n L/n!” Yuji exclaimed, holding up his phone’s camera in your direction in front of him. You turned around and gave the camera a small wave. “They’re dating my best friend, and he actually modeled for them, that’s how they got to know each other!” Yuji spoke indirectly to no one but his little vlog he was recording. “We’re gonna go give him flowers.”

You finally reached the door they had set up in the way of the official backstage and the hallway you guys were walking down. Yuji continued holding up his phone recording. “This is the backstage, we’re about to see all the models.” You opened the door, and with his free hand Yuji held it open letting you both in.

“Do you see him?” you asked as you both made your way through the crowd. “Uhh..” Yuji began, “Wait yeah look!” Yuji pointed, catching his hand in the frame of the video were he points to Megumi leaning against the railing of a short set of stairs.

“Megumi!” You called out, he looked towards you as you walked up the small steps, engulfing him in a hug, then backing up and handing him the roses.

“Say hi to the vlog Megs!” Yuji spoke up, recording from below you two. In response he just turned around, trying to hide the blush on his face, when the collar of the shirt doesn’t do enough, he uses the flowers once he feels Yuji approaching. “Don’t be shy!” You laughed at their antics, finding Megumi’s reaction the best.

“Shut up get that thing out of my face,” Megumi said trying to continue to turn away from Yuji. “Don’t be a grump c’mon!”

In an attempt to snatch his phone away from him, Megumi reached over, however completely forgetting about the lifted up step, causing him to trip over it. With that he tumbled over Yuji, both of them falling backwards. All the camera caught was Megumi’s hand grabbing it before hearing both of them exclaim as they fell, and your gasp, followed by a worried “Megumi!”

“Oh my, what happened here?” You turned towards Gojo who had showed up at probably the worst possible time, a taken aback Utahime besides him. “You’ve gotta be kidding me,” she grumbled, watching as the two boy groaned attempting to get up.

“Sorry,” you apologized on all your behalfs.

Author’s Note: epilogues out now too

guys this was sm fun to write and thank you all for support you’ve shown the story <33

im gonna start on another smau soon in a couple of days, i have two ideas and i can’t decide btwn them so you guys can click here to vote on which one u want to see first!!

hope you guys enjoyed!!

TAGLIST

@iridescentrays @gumimegz @maya-maya-56 @mamafly @lunavixia @swissy23 @coltsgf @m00nglad3-mp3 @etsukis @xosren @qtnfer @oengleli @harek89 @y-sabell-a @morgyyyyyyy @getolvr @liliumaraneae @k3lbade @aiieera @dancedancey @get0sfav @chuyasthighs0 @hyssoplampflickers @kpopanimen @sad-darksoul @vivi-loves-penguins @kasumitenbaz @talkingsperm @nymphsdomain @inlovewithlondonn @rzcnlb @enchantingkitty @fuyuzemi @lysaray @ni-ki-ismyluv @reneny @frumira @mixzimi @miralunaela @dreamxiing @p3achiee @anianurst @fishii28 @arguendo @samutoru @hallothankmas @invisible-mori @aiserex @all-in-the-fandoms @milza12 @nyxlai @daintyminho @tokyodarlng @molovs @hopeladybug @dazaisms

#jjk #jjk college au #jjk megumi #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen megumi #megumi x reader #nobara kugisaki #yuji itadori #megumi fushiguro #jujutsu megumi #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujustu kaisen #megumi x y/n #megumi x you #megumi fluff #jjk smau #smau #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #sukuna ryomen #sukuna #fushiguro #itadori #nobara #jjk fushiguro #yuta okkotsu #maki zenin #inumaki toge #jjk no curse au #non curse au

[hqbaby]

eighteen — all along

fuck ur instincts — suna x reader & atsumu x reader

you and suna are just fooling around—so why does he care so much when you start falling in love with someone else?

previous — masterlist — next

word count. 1.3k content. swearing, implied excessive alcohol consumption

Suna leans against the door after he closes it. He feels like throwing up.

This wasn’t how this night was supposed to go.

He wanted to get you back in some way, to remind you that you need him as much as he needs you. He fucked up when he told Oikawa it was just sex between the two of you (because it really isn’t), but he never thought his words would end up in this.

You’re with Atsumu now. You’re giving him up for Atsumu. You’re giving up on him.

It makes him sick.

“Suna?”

He looks at the girl beside him. Fuck, he doesn’t even remember her name. He’s hooked up with her five times now and, every single time, he only managed to call her by your name.

He’s an asshole. He deserves exactly what he’s getting.

“Hey,” he manages to say. “Kinda need a moment alone here.”

Her eyes widen. “Oh! Yeah! No, of course. I just wanted to check up on you.” She looks around before smiling at him. Sickly sweet. “I guess I’ll just see you around then.”

The girl starts walking away and—no, don’t do it, don’t do it—“Wait.”

She looks back at him. “Yeah?”

Stop it. You’re better than this.

“Do you wanna come to mine?”

A smile. “Definitely.”

Atsumu finds you by the pool, leaning against one of your friends while you watch Kaori somersault on the grass nearby. Your eyes are squinting slightly and a smile is plastered on your face. You light up when you see him.

“‘Tsumu!”

You try to get up, but end up stumbling and giggling into your friend’s shoulder.

“She’s drunk, Miya,” the girl slurs as she rubs your head, clearly wasted herself. “You be good to her, ‘kay?”

He smiles and nods, standing in front of you with his hands in his pockets. “Ya need help, baby?”

You shake your head, furrowing your brows as you try your best to get up. “Can handle myself, ‘Tsu.” You trip over your legs and burst out laughing, your friend joining you. “M’kay, you can help now.”

Atsumu crouches down and picks you up, your legs coming around his waist as he holds your thighs. “Ya good?” he asks, one of his hands going to support your back. “Tell me if yer not comfortable or somethin’.”

You nuzzle into his neck. “‘M good, ‘Tsumu. Thank you.”

He turns to your friend. “Are ya good? Do ya need a ride?”

“Nah.” The girl waves him off. “My boyfriend’s just over there. You take care of our superstar.”

“I always do.” He grins, nodding at her and saying goodbye before he carries you out of the house.

You mumble something into his skin that he can’t hear.

“Whaddya say, sunshine?”

“You’re so pretty, Atsu.”

His cheeks darken at your words. It’s not that you aren’t normally this affectionate—because you are, even when completely sober—but something about you just always makes him feel all light and giddy. You make him feel like he’s seven years old with his first crush, always so new and exciting.

“Yer pretty too, sweetheart,” he tells you. “Also really drunk.”

You slap his chest weakly. “So mean.”

He laughs, holding you close. “Did ya have a good night?”

“Kinda. It was sad for a bit.”

“Oh?” He frowns. “Did somethin’ happen?”

You hum against his neck. “Yeah,” you say, but before you can elaborate, your voice brightens up as you add, “But I’m all better now. Because you’re so pretty.”

“Yeah?” He chuckles, but he’s still worried about you. “Are ya sure yer okay?”

You lean back a little to look him in the face. Your eyes are hazy and your smile a little lopsided, but you look happy. Content. “I have you,” you say. “Of course I’m okay.”

You get to his car and he places you in the passenger seat, buckling the seatbelt and double-checking to see if it's secure before getting in the driver’s seat. He can hear you humming something as he gets in the car (“something stupid” you’d probably say if he asked what it is). He looks over to his side and sees you staring at him, eyes wide and adoring.

“What?” He laughs, trying to hide how shy you make him feel.

You’re still looking at him, blinking like you’re trying to see if he’s real. “‘Tsumu.”

His name sounds like honey on your tongue. So soft and sweet.

He feels his breath catch in his throat. “Yeah?”

“‘Tsumu,” you say again. Fuck, his heart is beating so fast. “I think I really like you.”

He knows you’re drunk and probably half-asleep, but there’s something about the way the words just spill out of you that feels so true. So real. It might be the way you’re staring at him like he hung all the stars in the sky. Or it might be because the words are coming from you.

He’d trust you with all that he had if he could.

He reaches over and places his hand on top of yours. “Say that again in the mornin’,” he requests. “Please.”

You nod fervently. “I will,” you say. “Because I mean it. I like you, ‘Tsumu. I really do.”

It feels better than anything that’s ever happened to him before. Better than winning a game. Better than beating Osamu. Better than having sex. So much better than anything because it’s you.

“Thank you,” is all he manages to say. “Thank you.”

You wake up in the middle of the night to a fuzzy feeling in your head. It’s not exactly a hangover yet, just a sweet spot between being awake and completely dead to the world. You try not to think about how it’ll feel in the morning.

Your eyes adjust to the darkness and you realize that you’re in Atsumu’s bed. You’re wearing one of his shirts and a pair of loose pajama bottoms that could be his or Osamu’s (their laundry gets mixed up a lot). He’s right beside you, one arm over your body, the other beneath you. He probably won’t be able to move his arm in the morning, but you have a feeling he doesn’t care.

You tilt your head up to find him fast asleep. His hair is falling over his eyes and his mouth is slightly agape, quiet snores escaping from between his lips.

Your body is facing him, curled up in his arms. You reach up to trace his collarbone with a featherlight touch and you swear you can feel him lean closer to you.

After your talk with Suna, the night had gone downhill. You spoke to your friends about it but, try as they might, they could only understand so much. It wasn’t like you understood it that well yourself. You downed more drinks that you should’ve and ended up barely knowing what you were doing.

Until Atsumu came, of course. That, you remember. You always seem to remember when it comes to him.

You wonder what you did to deserve this, to deserve him. To have him hold you in his arms when you know you probably smell like you’ve raided a whole bar. To have him check up on you and make sure you’re okay. To have him proudly keep you on his arm in front of his friends, to show you off like you’re the only thing that matters.

You spent a whole year with Suna, thinking that you were only worthy of being fucked in secret and barely acknowledged in public. Even people who claim they loved you once like Terushima just treat you like a toy to be played with whenever they see fit. Boys who barely know you ask for your number, not because of who you are, but what it would mean for them to "have" you.

Atsumu’s changed it all for you. He makes you want to see the goodness in yourself, the parts of you that he seems to recognize even if you don’t. Sure, he can be brash and loud and frankly a bit of a mess, but he makes you feel whole and safe.

You close your eyes and push yourself further into his hold.

Maybe this is what you were looking for all along.

notes. the new update sched is so good for my nerves like i need you all to feel with me here pls thank you (also if you wanna vote on my next series, there's a poll up rn 🫣)

#hqbaby.fyi #hqbaby #haikyuu #suna rintarou #suna #suna rintarou x reader #suna x reader #miya atsumu #atsumu #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu x reader #haikyuu x reader #suna rintarou fic #suna fic #miya atsumu fic #atsumu fic #haikyuu fic

[luneariaa]

choso respectfully looks so SO FINE, and I couldn't resist from writing this imagine for him. also he's just so,,

not proofread! fem reader.

. dividers by @/cafekitsune !! ❤

"And food is served!!"

You exclaimed happily, alerting both of your boyfriend and his sunshine little brother, Yuji to start eating together for dinner.

"I hope it's good. My cooking skills for certain foods is pretty bad honestly, I suppose."

Choso looks up at you from one of the chairs he's been sitting on; a small, soft smile is apparent as he stands. He kisses you on the forehead, before speaking in a reassuring tone.

"It looks amazing already, my dear. Don't worry about it." A sweet and honest tone is also laced behind his words, before gesturing for his brother to take a seat first at the dining table.

"Thank you for the food!!" Yuji exclaims cheerily, staring at all the good you have prepared in pure awe. "All of this looks so GOOD!!"

You laugh a bit as a reply, "Aww, I really did my best with it."

A light pink taints your cheeks when you feel Choso's large hand grabbing your own-- gently pulling you along with him to the seats as well. Even squeezing your hand in a so, tender manner. God my heart-

Once you three have settled at the table, Yuji takes a bite of the food and his eyes immediately light up, continuing so afterward while trying to talk with his mouth full.

"Please eat the food properly first, Yuji. I'm worried if you might choke on it." Choso scolds lightly, clearly concerned for his little brother. An adoring smile was sent out to your boyfriend from you.

He's always so caring and loving.. What did you ever do to deserve such a sweetheart like him?

"You could stay with us for the night if you wanted to! It's been quite late anyway." You suggested while beginning to eat some of the food as well. Choso nodded to the idea in agreement while looking at the pink-haired boy with a soft look.

"She's right. You're always welcome to stay here, Yuji."

"Hm-?!" He looks over to the both of you. "Are you sure?? I didn't want to intrude on you guys!"

Choso gently cuts him off. "It's completely fine. We don't mind having you around here at all!" His eyes seemed to brighten at his words of reassurance.

Yuji then grins brightly at the offer, "Well, if you two insist!"

While you were washing the dishes, Choso walks up behind you to help you a bit here and there-- planting kisses all over your face in the process.

"Cho.." You began to whine slightly at his actions, trying to stifle your own giggle.

"Hmm?"

"Yes, sweetheart?" He asks back with a seemingly innocent look, smiling down at you adorably.

"Just let me finish this up first, okay? Yuji might walk in on us all kissing each other like this." You chuckle at your own admittance. This made Choso pout a little.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't help it, especially when you looked so lovely, even just by standing here."

While all of that is happening, the two of you didn't even notice that Yuji is standing nearby, pretending to not have just seen you both while pouring some drink for himself.

"You're just so cute and sweet, so I couldn't help myself from giving you my kisses."

Finally giving it a thought for the past few minutes, Yuji finally asked excitedly out of nowhere.

"So, when are you two getting married?!"

You almost dropped the glass that you've been washing in the sink, while Choso had his eyes widening upon the question.

"M-Married?" You stutter out, clearly at loss of words. Your boyfriend is clearly still baffled as well.

"I'm being so serious right now! You both look so perfect and happy with each other!" Yuji adds with an enthusiastic grin.

An awkward silence filled the air at that moment as you and Choso exchanged looks. It's safe to say that the both of you are beyond flustered at this point. ( just know that Yuji is witnessing the whole scene with a triumphant look. )

© 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚜.

#jjk #jjk season 2 #jujutsu kaisen #choso kamo #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo x you #kamo choso #kamo choso x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #imagine #aria's post 𖥔 ݁ ˖ #choso x reader

[noellawrites]

Involuntary Celibate - Yandere!Carmy Berzatto x reader

requested & also helped by @tryingtowritefanfics <3

summary: Carmy's been saving himself for you... but he's tired of waiting.

warnings: 18+, incel!Carmy, teasing, dub/non-con, forced breeding, rape

"Yo chef, can you stay late for prep?" Carmy asks as he passes behind you.

"Of course, chef!" you pipe, turning around and smiling at your boss.

He stole a glance at the sauce you were working on and cocked his head towards it.

"Go ahead, I need some feedback," you confess, handing him a spoon.

As his lips touch your creation and his eyes brighten just a bit, you can't help but blush. After a year of working for him, you'd developed quite a crush on the man.

"Excellent, chef. Just try adding a bit more honey," he offers, looking right into your eyes.

You thought about that interaction for the rest of your shift, even as everyone else left.

—

Now, it was past ten and only you and Carmy remain.

You sidle up to Carmy, leaning over the large metal table as he works on one of his drawings.

He looks over at you briefly, his mouth cracking into a small smile before turning back to his work.

Before you could stop yourself, you reach out and touch one of the tattoos on his left arm, the world inside the measuring cup.

"I love this one," you whisper, tracing the cup's thin lines.

Carmy immediately stops drawing. Unbeknownst to you, Richie's words from the past few weeks were echoing through his mind.

"C'mon 'cuz, why haven't you tapped that yet?" "Carm, she's obviously fuckin' obsessed with you." "Jesus 'cuz, you can't be a virgin forever." "If Mikey were here, he'd tell you how much of a loser you are."

Before you knew what was happening, Carmy grabs your arm with his right hand and pins your back against the table. Alarm bells ring through your head but you can't move, your body feels numb.

"Stop fuckin' teasin' me," Carmy grits, pressing his body against yours. You can feel his hard-on through his pants as it presses against your midsection.

You have no idea what else to do, so you lean up and press your lips against his. His strong arms wrap around your waist as he deepens the kiss, groaning and bucking against you.

You let out a loud moan as Carmy works his way down your neck with his mouth. All of a sudden, you feel his big hand attempting to tug your bottoms down. You reach down and grab his hand, but he slaps your hand in response.

"You've been teasing me for months, it's my fuckin' turn to take what belongs to me," he hisses, and you immediately start to feel your eyes water.

"C-Carm, please—" you start, but he cuts you off.

Carmy leans in, lips ghosting over your ear as he says, "I'm done with your shit. I'm gonna knock you up and leave you beggin' for more."

"Carmy, I-I'm a virgin. Please don't do this to me!" you beg, still trying to push against him in vain. He has you trapped, no chance for escape.

"I'm a virgin, too. Been savin' myself for you, so we can lose it to each other. We can start our own family, leave our fucked up ones behind," he promises, and you can hear the strain in his voice. Probably a combination of his intense lust and deep desire to get you pregnant.

"Stop, please! I'm not ready to—" you try again, but Carmy cuts you off by clamping a hand over your mouth. With his other hand, he finishes pulling your pants and underwear down.

"You're so good, all wet for me, huh? Slutty women like you are always fuckin' teases," Carmy hisses, teasing your slick entrance with the tip of his cock.

You might've enjoyed this, following maybe four dates and a label and maybe a condom. But you clenched your eyes shut, trying to pretend you were anywhere else.

Anywhere but being cornered and raped by your boss while he tries to put his baby inside you, a little baby Berzatto blossoming inside your womb.

"Hmm—mphh!" you try to speak through Carmy's hand over your mouth. He was almost fully sheathed inside of you, groaning while rocking his hips into yours.

Your extreme discomfort shifted into throbbing pain as his cock breached your cervix. You couldn't stop the tears from filling your eyes as he fucked you harder, like a man on a mission.

Pain mixed with pleasure flooded your senses as Carmy groans, painting the walls of your cervix with his cum.

"Richie and Mikey'd be so fuckin' proud’a me," he says under his breath as he pulls out of you, immediately yanking your underwear back up to keep his fluids inside your pussy.

He un-clamps his hand from your mouth as he shuffles back into his black pants and buckles his belt.

“Why did you do this to me, Carmy?" you sniffle as his intense gaze meets your eyes.

"Because I love you. You're mine now, you'll never be with anyone else," he says, a bored expression on his face.

You can't hold back anymore. You burst into tears, a mixture of post-coital emotions and terror at the very real possibility of a baby inside you.

Carmy pulls you into his chest, holding you close to him as your tears soak through his white shirt.

"I love you so much," he whispers, and you cry even harder. You're never going to escape Carmy Berzatto, you know that now.

#carmy berzatto x reader #the bear x reader #carmy berzatto smut #carmy berzatto imagine #yandere carmy berzatto #yandere the bear #lip gallagher x reader #jeremy allen white