#thank god i finally released this now i never have to think about this show again

[lolomidi]

The Price of Entertainment: An Episode-By-Episode Analysis of Alastor's Facade

I don’t think any character in Hazbin Hotel has been discussed as much as Alastor, and it’s a testament to how much the writers put in his character that the mystery of his intentions, past, and contract have been so debated on.

There are some takes I vehemently disagree with, but something a lot of people seem to have settled on is that Alastor is, behind his massive ego and cool-headed persona, insecure about his place in Hell after his long “sabbatical.” I want to do an episode-by-episode analysis of Alastor’s behavior and how Season 1 shifts our view of him from an unquestionably powerful Overlord to something with more depth, and while I won’t be speculating on who owns his soul and how he’ll break that contract in those post, I will take a guess at the future of his character in a narrative sense. I will also implicitly be addressing my issues with some of the conclusions others have made, or at least playing devil's advocate.

NOTE: I want to clarify that none of this is meant to depict Alastor as some poor woobie. He’s still awful. He’s in Hell for several reasons and being a serial killer is only one of them. Rather, I want to analyze what is shown to us about him, and how those story beats can be used to determine where he’ll end up by the finale of the series.

ALSO NOTE: I haven’t followed all of VivziePop’s comments outside of the show about the characters, and it’s possible that certain details have been changed between the release of the pilot and the show, so take any mentions of what hasn’t been explicitly depicted within the show with a grain of salt.

___

Part 1: Recap Analysis

This section will consist of commentary regarding Alastor's appearance and behavior in the given episodes, with retrospection based on new information given in later episodes if needed.

“Overture”: Alastor is pretty one-to-one with his depiction in the pilot in the first episode. He’s snarky, open about his sadism, but helpful if begrudgingly so. Interestingly, he’s able to put together a well-edited, if tonally awful, commercial, and probably could have done better if he weren’t intentionally being an ass about it. From the finale we know that he and Vox likely used to have a more magnanimous relationship, and it’s likely that he picked up some tools of the digital trade in that time despite or before being turned off completely by it.

“Radio Killed the Video Star”: Vox effectively plays heel for Alastor this episode as we continue that first impression of the Radio Demon. We spend a good time showing off the former’s power and how far his roots have spread throughout Hell’s society, only for Alastor to effortlessly trounce him and steal from his audience, despite being gone for so long and his position in Hell less stable. This indicates that Alastor does still have pull, but at the same time that his position in the hierarchy of Hell is being contested due to the length of his absence. He deals with it easily here, but we’ll see in subsequent episodes that things aren’t as smooth as they first seem.

“Scrambled Eggs”: In terms of the eggs, there’s not much to talk about. He begrudgingly accepts Vaggie’s request to get rid of them “humanely,” but brings them back to the hotel after they prove to be useful spies.

More importantly, we get our first small hint that Alastor’s ego can be bruised when Carmilla doesn’t humor him during the meeting between Overlords. Now, I actually disagree with a lot of the takes on this episode in that I think it indicates that at least some of Alastor’s views and need to prove himself as a powerful Overlord are the result of self-delusion. Yes, he does need to reestablish himself as a person not to be messed with after being gone for so long, but I think it isn’t as bad as some are making it out to be, which makes his behavior in later episodes more strange and excessive if anything.

Carmilla, who mind you is a busy and stressed woman trying to hide the fact that she’s successfully murdered an angel, hits his ego by not caring where he’s been (something he wouldn’t have revealed in the first place), but she also welcomes him back, which is more than you could say to Velvette and by extension the Vees. And minutes before that, Zestial, who’s probably the highest on their totem pole, does go out of his way to meet with Alastor and inquire about where he’s been. Alastor himself gets over the slight pretty quickly and has no issue contributing to the meeting. Overall, he isn’t necessarily terrifying other overlords, but he still has an established place with them and they do seem to get along well enough. He’s “part of the group” unlike the Vees, who are treated more like upstart outsiders.

I also want to point out that despite Zestial likely outranking Alastor in power, they seem to be alright with each other. Alastor is cordial and does not demonstrate a desire to antagonize him like he does Lucifer in the next episode. Speaking of which…

“Dad Beat Dad”: This episode gives us a lot to chew on and is the first major indicator that Alastor’s issues go beyond wanting to be the center of the room. From the very moment Lucifer walks into the hotel*, his eye is twitching and he is visibly pissed. Lucifer undermining him (notably contrasting Zestial, who is polite despite his power) doesn’t help and makes Alastor let loose his first swear in the entire show. Being the petty bitch he is, Alastor, knowing he can’t intimidate Lucifer in any way, immediately goes for his weak point–Charlie–and plays up the role of a caretaker for her and the hotel. It’s a low blow, but it also feels like a defense–he’s signaling to Lucifer that this is his hotel, that things are taken care of already, and that they do not need his assistance, even though they ultimately do in order to get a meeting with Heaven.

But then things get more complicated with the appearance of Mimzy, who, to the surprise of several characters due to his solitary nature, was friends with Alastor all the way back when they were alive, and she carries a load of implications with her. She’s the only crack so far at what a “human” Alastor is like–apparently he’s a heavyweight drinker, a good dancer, and most notably, in Mimzy’s words, a sweet man who "becomes a kitten" when he's drunk. This is a huge departure from the unflappable, egotistical Radio Demon we’ve known up to now, and I think it’s a purposeful choice that we’re hearing this information but not shown it like his early days in Hell just prior. It’s simultaneously left to the imagination but difficult to do so because it contrasts so heavily with everything that has been shown to us beforehand. Another thing is that Mimzy is sure that Alastor will clean up her mess–and apparently this isn’t the first time he has, if Husk is anything to go by. So many people seem to miss this, but Alastor, who hates being tied down or disrespected, has been allowing Mimzy to leech off of him, presumably due to their past friendship making him turn a blind eye.

Alastor is on edge for this entire episode and is already unusually snappy when Husk addresses Mimzy, and pushing the button that was his contract is what sends him over the edge. His temper exploding is a direct result of his feeling that his control over both the hotel (via Lucifer) and his personal life (via Husk’s “doubt” that he can handle everything and that his reputation is what it used to be, plus the reminder of his deal) is being taken away from him. Alastor’s threat to Husk, which seems to not be his usual behavior if Husk’s willingness to show concern and talk back in the first place is anything to go by, is an attempt to remind both of them that he holds the cards, that he’s a powerful Overlord that is not to be trifled with, and he explicitly says as much when he goes out to deal with what Mimzy’s dragged in.

It’s only after he lets his anger out on the mobsters and “proves himself” that he visibly calms down and makes the logical decision to tell Mimzy to leave with a serious attitude, and also doesn’t antagonize anyone for the rest of the episode. It seems like despite his fury earlier, he was listening to Husk, who’s rightfully smug about it. He’s even present when Charlie declares her desire to protect her people, and his smile seems just a tad bit more genuine.

*Note: it’s not impossible that Alastor has some sort of personal grudge against Lucifer which caused his hate-on-first-sight, depending on the circumstances of his disappearance and contract (i.e. if it’s with Lilith).

“Hello Rosie!”: As opposed to Dad Beat Dad, Hello Rosie is arguably where we see Alastor at his most in-his-element. He gives off a lot of conflicting vibes at the beginning, from mocking Charlie’s distress to, in a shockingly honest moment, lecturing her about the importance of a smile to portray strength, a card we’d only been shown due to comments outside of the show. He smugly holds his knowledge over Charlie’s head but is visibly impatient to have her make a blank check of a deal with him, solid enough to benefit him but vague enough so that Charlie won’t feel immediately threatened. He’s clearly been waiting for an opportunity like this since the events of the pilot.

After that, he puts back on his gentleman’s demeanor and introduces Charlie to Rosie, and from here on he’s arguably at his most comfortable in the entire show. He’s relaxed around Rosie and is actually willing to ask for her help (something I can’t see him doing with any other character), casually complains about Susan, is encouraging to and praises Charlie even behind her back, and most notably, gives her his radio cane unprompted. More on that later. He also mentioned wanting to guide Charlie to Rosie specifically, implying that he was being genuine about wanting to act as a mentor to her, though his intentions are probably self-beneficial.

“The Show Must Go On”: The finale is arguably the most revealing episode on what Alastor’s inner world is like, as we see him unmasked several times. For one, his private admission to Niffty, the closest thing he has to a friend within the hotel, that he’s enjoyed watching the other residents connect to each other. This is in direct opposition to his initial (stated) reason for helping the hotel in that he wanted to watch them all fail, and yet he seems content with his initial assumptions being proven wrong. There’s no malice or sarcasm in this moment, he’s relaxed and talking to someone he relatively trusts.

And so he goes into the battle swinging and confident. Then, of course, Adam.

I want to bring up something before we keep going. Yes, fighting Adam without angelic weaponry was a needless risk. Yes, Alastor fell victim to the very sloppiness and arrogance he accused Adam of, and it’s thematically appropriate that he was the only one to lose his battle in that he was fighting for his own ego more than “love.” But also, people seem to forget that Alastor is the only demon in the entire show with a precedent for permakilling without an explicit reliance on angelic weaponry, as the Overlords he toppled in his original rampage seem to have never returned. He’s egotistical, but not stupid. He may have genuinely believed that he had the means to kill Adam himself but didn’t get the chance/couldn’t due to his contract or absence possibly weakening him. But that's speculation for another day.

So, he has to retreat before Adam double-taps his ass and is too injured to return until after the extermination. He makes a grand exit, but not before grabbing the broken pieces of his radio cane. The one he allowed Charlie to use just an episode prior, and presumably is a conduit for his powers, and he grabs it while a murderous angel is inches away from wiping him off the face of Hell.

His portion of “Finale” is the first time we see him singing alone and not playing off someone in a duet. It’s obvious that he’s trying to keep his composure, still speaking to himself in his artificial transatlantic accent (which we now know for a fact he doesn't need to do, seeing as he finally broke character when Adam wrecked his cane) and reassuring himself that he’ll come out on top next time. But here his front shatters and we openly see what the show has been hinting he is for the first time: a deeply paranoid, desperate, and unstable man.

Essentially the worst-case scenario has happened: after a season of interfering with every attempt to capture him on camera, Vox has footage of him at his lowest point for all of Hell to see, and he’ll have “died” a martyr, a weakling, and still in the chains of an unwanted contract. For Alastor, who is so deeply afraid of showing any sign of vulnerability, who wants to be seen as a monstrous Overlord, it’s understandable that this humiliation is enough to send him into a mental spiral and recant any fondness for the hotel in favor of accomplishing his own goals. Worse yet, when we next see him he gives zero indication of any of this even when Charlie and company are simply glad that he's alive, which leaves us to wonder: has he been like this behind the smile from the very beginning?

___

Part 2: Closing Thoughts and Future Speculation

With everything we’ve taken note of above, we can start to piece together a picture of who this guy is, and what the writers are going to do with him.

Alastor is sentimental. It’s not just his attachment to older technology or his love for being the center of everyone's attention. He likes being around people, he has friends, one of which he continuously indulged despite her using him multiple times, and he ultimately was starting to enjoy his time at the hotel before his defeat spooked him. Despite him using her, the fact that he was even willing to let Charlie use his cane (and note that he takes it from her as soon as she’s given a substitute, so that is a significant gesture for him) is an implicit display of trust whose implications don’t become apparent until the finale.

But this is paired with deep insecurity. Alastor, despite being one of the most powerful people in the Pride Ring, has a crippling fear of being seen as vulnerable or “lesser” by others. There could be multiple overlapping reasons for this: the general climate of Hell, whatever happened to him seven years ago, his experiences as a mixed-race human living in Prohibition-era Louisiana, his original death, a natural predisposition, etc.

Regardless, this anxiety of his is so overwhelming that, when paired with the ever-present stress of not owning his own soul, it’s driving him insane. He made a splash in Hell upon entry and now he’s desperately trying to reinvoke that in order to defend himself both physically and mentally. He’s the gifted kid who’s slowly going nuts trying to keep up an impossible momentum as they grow older. He’s an ex-human denying his humanity because he doesn’t want to feel human. Everyone’s out to get him, and anyone who could be an enemy is an enemy unless he has total control over them via a contract, power, or the reassurance of years of close friendship. It’s why he’s cordial to Zestial but takes Carmilla (who wasn't even trying to spite him) and Lucifer’s comments personally, in the same way someone with low self-esteem might want to lash out against an authority figure who they feel is looking down on them.

Worse yet, he can’t/won’t let these feelings out and is bottling them up so that no one will know he feels this way (note how quickly he was able to relax in Dad Beat Dad when he was given an outlet for his stress), because that’s a sign of weakness too. It’s honestly kind of frightening that in his final scene he gives zero indication of being injured or of just having had a meltdown. By all outside accounts, he’s his usual chipper self, and no one at the hotel save for maybe Husk, who can’t say anything Alastor doesn’t want him to, would realize anything is amiss. The reason his part of “Finale” is chilling isn’t just because of the implications that he will become an antagonist in the future–it’s that his mental state is so poor that he is no longer acting rationally, which makes him unpredictable in the worst possible way.

I think Alastor’s character arc isn’t going to be redemption by way of going to Heaven, I don't think that place is his style anyway, but rather redemption of his own self-image. I don’t think the writers would make what is arguably the most popular and well-developed character in the show just to say that he’s hopelessly evil and simply end it at that. We’ve been exposed to multiple facets of his character, and while his deeds and probably his intentions are sinister, his underlying motivation for it all seems to be “freedom,” which decidedly isn’t (unless your name is Eren Jaeger).

I do believe that he’ll have his villain moment where he indulges in his worst impulses, but that ultimately it won’t do anything to fulfill him, because as we see in the official comics before the release of the show (which may no longer be canon but still give a viable “baseline” for the characters), when his desire to be feared and respected is granted, it only isolates him. Like the others, he’ll have to hit rock bottom before he can climb back up.

Pentious, who was successfully redeemed, needed to understand that people weren’t out to get him, which allowed him to make the decision to put his friends before himself and trigger his selfless sacrifice. Angel, who’s well on his way to redemption, needed to realize he wasn’t alone and could rely on others, and his confidence and self-love has grown enormously since then. I think these are both lessons Alastor will need to learn eventually as well. He’s the manager of the hotel, but also undoubtedly a patient. He’s hungry for freedom, but only when he learns these lessons will he be truly free.

Or maybe I’m thinking too much into it idk lmaooooo

#hazbin hotel #hazbin theory #hazbin hotel theory #hazbin analysis #zestial morde #carmilla carmine #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #charlie morningstar #hazbin hotel rosie #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #thank god i finally released this now i never have to think about this show again #that tragic feeling when the tumblr sexyman bait is the best character in the show #alastor does not have a blanket hatred for everyone who's more powerful than he is #if he did then he'd despise charlie too and genuinely doesn't seem to #rather it's towards ANYONE whether stronger or weaker than him who refuse to acknowledge him #oooooooh this boy's got a complex but he's a VivsiePop character so it's par for the course #but anyway some of the takes people have made on him are abysmal to me so i wrote my first tumblr post in a decade

[starlightxsvt]

Bloodily Safe | j.ww

pairing ➳ psychopath!wonwoo x fem!reader

genre ➳ psychological thriller? camgirl au(read note below), college au, smut

word count ➳ 18.5k

warnings ➳ toxic relationship, blackmailing, drinking, descriptive domestic abuse, death, manipulation, threatening, fingering, slapping, choking, marking, cum eating, degradation, virgin sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, humiliation kink, pain kink, psychopathic behaviours, very descriptive violence, blood, rape attempt, arson, murder (lmk if I forgot smth)

synopsis ➳ you have a little secret. one you are desperately hiding. yet the boy you have a crush on has figured it out. now a game of cat and mouse has begun. how do you make it out alive?

disclaimer:❗ I am, by no means an expert in behavioural abnormalities so please keep in mind that this is a work of fiction. I tweaked the story and their characteristics to my needs so please don't take this seriously. Also, this fic contains some highly sensitive topics so please read the warnings carefully. Do not interact if you are sensitive to these things ❗

note: reader isn't a camgirl in the typical sense, she basically reads erotica on live.

loosely based on the kdrama shadow beauty

I.

The glaring red light of the camera lens blinks at you as pause for a moment between your reading. Your tablet sits on your lap, glowing brightly in the lowly lit room as 8 thousand viewers watch you live through the lens.

With a sigh, you continue reading in your best teasing voice.

Your mouth hangs open in a silent scream as you feel him release inside you, making you clench. You’re not surprised when he doesn’t stop but continues thrusting inside you, far from being done with you and you feel another orgasm impending. Your pussy hurts in the best ways possible and just thinking about coming once again have your toes curling.

Surprising you, one of his hands move onto your neck, gripping it firmly and applying just enough pressure to make your body curl up and see stars. It triggers your orgasm, multiplying it by hundreds and seeing the godlike man on top of you, reaching his high, his dark, predatory eyes trained on you makes you go off like a rocket. You swear you see God himself as your body completely lets go and you feel like you’re floating in a place of pure bliss. The feeling of him releasing inside you makes you shudder before he slips out and shuffles on the bed, probably cleaning you up but you’re too gone to care.

With a blissful smile and a hazy mind, you let sleep take you.

"That will be all for today guys. Thank you so much for tuning in. I'll be back on Thursday night!" You wave at the camera as soon as you finish and do your signature pose— making half hearts on your cheeks with your hands as the viewers leave comments asking you to stay a bit longer. Sending a flying kiss towards the camera you turn off your live and watch as the screen loads to show you how much you've earned for the two-hour live. Once the number pops up, you sigh with satisfaction and finally, take off the mask that you wear to conceal your identity.

After all, you wouldn't want people, especially your classmates or professors to find out you read erotica live in skimpy underwear and flirt with people to earn some extra bucks.

Well, a girl's gotta do what she gotta do.

Quickly changing out of the uncomfortable lingerie, you put on a comfortable t-shirt and crawl to bed with your laptop to check if the money has been transferred to your account. The camming website takes 20% of whatever you earn from each live yet the amount left is enough for you to make your work worthwhile.

Camming was never in your mind at all, even in your wildest dreams. Yet when your mother fell sick last year and the medical bills started piling up, you knew you had to find some easy way to earn good money. Then, one day, you overheard a couple of girls in class talking about camming and how good the money is.

Simply curious, you visited the website only to be unlocked to a whole new world. Thousands of people did a variety of adult content there but you were not brave enough to get naked from the start. So you opted for a safer option, reading erotica on live while wearing lingerie and flirting with the camera.

The first time you did it was only to test the waters using whatever equipment you had at hand but surprisingly, the response you got shocked you. So it started, you doing lives two days a week and earning enough money to pay for your mother's treatment and your college bills.

nerdycatboy wants to chat with you

The notification appears on your screen, telling you someone wants to talk to you privately on the camming website. You generally block these messages as most of them ask for nudes or send dick picks. Still, you click on it and watch as three dots appear, your fingers hovering over the block option, ready to press it as soon as the sender sends something inappropriate.

Surprising you, the message reads:

[nerdycatboy]: Hello, cherrybaby!

Today was the second time I watched your live.

You have a really beautiful voice.

I don't frequent these sites but I opened an account just to send you tips. Hope you received them.

Somewhat flattered, you type out a reply.

[you]: Thank you so much. I'm flattered to hear that. And yes, I received them.

[nerdycatboy]: You're welcome.

Also, I wanted to tell you something.

[you]: Sure.

[nerdycatboy]: I know who you are.

[you]: Excuse me?

[nerdycatboy]: ______. ______ of the Psychology department, Seoul University.

You're studying on scholarship.

Wanna know something funny?

I am your classmate ;D

Your throat feels something akin to a desert as you blink at the screen, praying for it to be a hallucination. The words, however, don't change and the daunting realization hits you.

Someone has figured out your identity.

Someone knows it's you.

But who?

Shit, who? Who could it possibly be?

You share your classes with almost eighty other people and it's impossible to guess this... stalker.

You're absolutely fucked.

It has only been a month since college started and you are doomed. What if whoever this is, exposes your identity and you are expelled?

Dear almighty, please let this be a dream.

A sudden ping! alerts you about another message, making you jump. Carefully, you open the chat to see what your stalker has to say.

[nerdycatboy]: Come on now, don't leave me on read.

You wouldn't want me to get angry now, would you?

A squeak of despair leaves your lips as your fingers nervously hover over the keyboard.

[you]: What do you want?

[nerdycatboy]: To play a game.

This really isn't looking good.

[you]: Please, just leave me alone.

[nerdycatboy]: Ey, where's the fun in that? Come on now, we'll just play silly little games.

You stare at the screen, your world coming down crashing on you as you wonder in the back of your mind, whether you should stop camming for good. Even if you wanted to, it's not possible.

Who's gonna pay for your mom's bills?

[nerdycatboy]: You there?

[you]: Yes.

[nerdycatboy]: Good. I'll come again before your next live. We're gonna play a little game then, okay?

You stare at the screen in silence.

[you]: Okay.

[nerdycatboy]: That's a good girl. In the meantime, have fun trying to figure out who I am. We see each other every day after all. It's just that you wouldn't know who I am.

You grind your teeth, holding back the urge to type all sorts of curse words you can think of.

[nerdycatboy]: Bye bye, now. Sleep tight.

[you]: Fuck you, loser.

You slam your laptop shut and lie in silence, curled up in your bed. The only way out seems to be to permanently delete your account but that is not an option for you. It is also quite literally impossible for you to figure out who it is. You don't even know if it's a guy or a girl or a goddamn fucking alien.

As the night grows deeper you only start to get more anxious and only when the sun starts to rise in the sky, do you fall asleep, your dreams plagued by the haunting messages from earlier.

II.

"_____? _____!"

The deep voice jolts you awake as you blink around, taking time to realize that you've fallen asleep on your desk during the lecture which now seems to have ended as you see everyone around you packing their bags and leaving.

A man stands next to your desk, holding a few sheets of paper towards you and you blink at them, confused.

"The professor gave us the answer sheet for last week's quiz. You seem to have fallen asleep during class." He says.

Your brain finally starts functioning just enough to realize it's Wonwoo talking to you.

Jeon Wonwoo.

The famous nerd, the genius, the pro gamer, the campus crush, the it boy and...

The man of your dreams.

"Right! Right, thank you," you croak, reaching for the sheets with one hand while trying to wipe the corners of your mouth for any drool.

"It's alright." He replies, as impassive as ever. His expression remains somber as always as he regards you through his glasses. Sometimes you wonder if he's a robot. Even though you have known him since high school, you've yet to see the man smile or shout or show any vivid emotion. He has always been the quiet type, keeping to himself, always studying or doing whatever intelligent people does.

He was the most popular guy in high school, loved by all, even the teachers, because of his perfect and polite demeanor and extraordinary results that got him many awards at the national level. The fame followed him to college too as you have seen in the last two months; with women and even some men flocking around him. You are not ashamed to admit you are one of them too, but not like it matters.

Jeon Wonwoo seems to be living in a completely different world.

"No, thanks, really." You reply, slightly awkward, not knowing what else to say exactly. He nods and slings his backpack over his shoulder and turns around to walk away. He seems to have a thought as he turns his head and asks, "Rough night? I haven't seen you doze off in class ever. You are always on top of your game."

Holy shit, that is the most amount of words he has spoken to you. Scratch that, that's the most you've ever heard him speak at a time.

And more importantly, he has been paying attention to you?? He notices you enough to know that you don't doze off?

Swallowing, you try not to let your face break out into a grin. "Yeah kind of," you mumble. He nods and spares you a glance before walking out of the classroom as you watch his lean, athletic frame from behind, a soft sigh escaping from your lips.

After he's gone, you pack up your stuff, mentally face-palming yourself for falling asleep during class. Not only did you fail to keep an eye out for your stalker but you also made a fool of yourself in front of Wonwoo.

What a great day!

III.

The next Thursday, a delivery from an anonymous person comes to you just a couple of hours before your live. A handwritten note sits on top as you open the package and your gut sinks once you realize who it's from.

Hello there, little cherry!

Please accept my lovely gift. Wear it in your live today unless you want your secret to be out ;)

Also, wear something black with it.

Love, your new best friend!

You crumple the note in your hand as you eye the package nervously, dread filling your veins as your mind tries to conjure what the item might be. Hands shaky, you reach for it to rip it open and then stand in silence as you gaze at it for a while.

The asshole sent you a cat costume.

A sexy cat costume.

More specifically a pair of black cat ears, a cat mask, a pair of paws and a... fucking tail.

Absolutely mortified at the idea of wearing these provocative items on live, you sink onto the floor, an utter sense of despair settling over you.

Sweet lord, this has to be a joke.

Quickly logging in to the camming website you type your new best friend a message.

[you]: You're kidding me, right? Please tell me this is a joke.

The asshole is very quick to reply.

[nerdycatboy]: I see you have received my gift. No, little cherry, I am not kidding.

You grind your teeth, eyes burning holes in the screen.

[you]: I can't wear that on live!

[nerdycatboy]: Why not? You'll look absolutely lovely. The black really goes with your skin tone.

Oh for fucks sake.

[you]: Are you a fucking furry?

There are several minutes of silence.

[nerdycatboy]: You are fucking cute you know that? I don't remember the last time I laughed this hard.

[nerdycatboy]: No, cherry, I am not a furry. I just like cats and you remind me of one. I bet if I touched you, you'd purr real good.

You would never admit how that text sent a jolt of shiver down your spine and made your toes curl.

[you]: Please, can you not do this?

[nerdycatboy]: Come on now, don't whine. It won't get you anywhere.

[nerdycatboy]: I'll tune in later. If you do not do as you're told you know what will happen...

[nerdycatboy]: Ah, I forgot. You don't have to wear the tail during your live. It will be uncomfortable to sit with. Just send me a picture later, hmm?

[nerdycatboy]: Bye now.

Fucking mother of all fucks.

You toss your phone on the bed, groaning out loud in frustration. The cat ears and mask sit next to you on the floor, mocking you in silence.

IV.

"Hello, my darlings! This is your favorite cherrybaby, back with you. Today I'll be reading the second chapter of Sugar & Spice!"

The comments, as you expected, go nuts over your outfit— the black cat ears with the mask, covering the better half of the top of your face, the furry paws paired with a lace black lingerie. Despite your initial thoughts of ignoring them, you decide to address them with their never ending onslaught.

"Everyone is talking about my little props today." You pause for an awkward chuckle. "Well, I thought I would spice things up. Aren't these cute?"

You can hear the stiffness in your own voice. Shaking it off, you read a few comments while waiting for the live to reach your minimum number of tips, which only takes a few minutes today before you start reading the erotica.

Throughout the live, u have no idea if the asshole has joined in and you almost start to think that maybe he has left you for good, that maybe it was a one time prank. However during the last ten minutes of your live, as you proceed to wrap it up you see the notification that bring your eyes to your forehead.

nerdycatboy gifted you 500$.

Holy shit.

Holy fucking shit.

As soon as your live is finished you shoot him a private message.

[you]: Didn't think you'd be that pleased to see me dressed up as a cat.

[nerdycatboy]: Oh cherry, I was pleased alright. You were an absolute sight for sore eyes.

[you]: Thank you I guess?

[nerdycatboy]: Welcome. Now send me some pictures. Wearing the tail.

[you]: Can you answer a question first?

[nerdycatboy]: No promises.

You sigh. Here goes.

[you]: Are you a guy or a girl?

[nerdycatboy]: Why? Wouldn't send me the pictures if I was a girl?

You roll your eyes.

[you]: Just trying to narrow down my suspect list.

[nerdycatboy]: Cute. Keep trying. I am a guy. The man straight out of your nightmares, as you will start to find out.

Okay...

There are many many guys in your class, literally half of the total students. It's impossible to figure him out among them.

[nerdycatboy]: Now the pictures, cherry. Don't keep me waiting.

His message breaks your train of thought as you sigh, defeated. Telling him to wait while you fetch the stupid cat tail and clip it on your underwear. You're too humiliated to look in the mirror so instead you place your tripod on the bed with your phone and pose a couple of times or so, one from the front and one from the back.

As you scroll through them, you cannot bring yourself to believe you just took these pictures and let alone you're about to send them to someone. Each of them is equally provocating and humiliating. Before you start to think too much you bite your lip hard and send, watching as he views your message.

[you]: There you go, asshole.

[nerdycatboy]: Only three?

[you]: Take it or leave it. I'm tired.

You reply, not caring to be polite. The frustration and humiliation get to you as you rip the stupid things off your body and toss them away before falling on your bed and lying face down in silence.

[nerdycatboy]: Getting feisty. It's okay, I'm feeling kind today so I'll let you go.

[nerdycatboy]: Until next time, little cherry. xoxo

You watch his messages, a numbing feeling of defeat settling over you as you turn off your phone and push it away.

Even though you desperately want to think of nothing a thought continues to nag you. A shameful, despicable thought that you just can't seem to ignore.

You might be really enjoying being humiliated by an unknown man on the internet. How truly absurd, no? You let out a scream of frustration into the pillow. A faceless, seemingly rich man who has a kink of humiliating you is keeping your mind awake and body restless at night.

How did it ever get to this?

V.

[nerdycatboy]: I've been thinking about your task for tomorrow and finally made a decision.

[you]: Okay...

[nerdycatboy]: Wear a white shirt. Nothing more, nothing less.

[you]: Excuse me?

[nerdycatboy]: You heard me all right, little cherry.

You keep staring at the message as if looking at it long enough will make it disappear. It definitely doesn't. In fact, it gets worse.

[nerdycatboy]: And keep the top two buttons undone. Showing a little cleavage won't hurt. And wear red lipstick.

You keep staring at your screen, wondering in the back of your mind for the nth time just how your life came to be this.

God sure loves to test you.

[you]: I'm not a harlot you know.

[nerdycatboy]: Never said you were one. Besides what's wrong with being a one?

Him and his way with words. You roll your eyes, your fingers pressing the keys on the keyboard angrily.

[you]: If I wear white my tits will show.

[nerdycatboy]: That's exactly the point.

A seething rage envelopes your entire being as you clench both of your fists, inhaling a few deep breaths to stop yourself from smashing something. Ever since you came across this asshole you're realizing you've unlimited anger that you never thought you had in you.

[you]: Whatever, dick.

You reply and shut off your computer in an unsuccessful attempt to block him out.

However, the next day, you do end up doing your live in a plain thin white shirt which of course, makes the chatbox go up in flames.

Within a minute of starting your live, comments about your outfit start flooding in.

Fuck, you look so hot!

The red lips suit you so much!!

Yo, I can see her nipples.

You're getting bolder these days. Love to see it!!!

I'll pay anything for you to take the shirt off.

Swallowing, you ignore the crude comments and start with your usual greeting. "As you can see, everyone, my outfit is a bit risky today. Just thought I'd venture into something new." You force a laugh.

Did she lose a bet or something?

Yes, we need more risky outfits. How about being topless next time?

It's a downpour of all types of comments but you can't let them get to you. So you start reading the erotica instead, reading one or two decent comments every now and then for the next two hours. The view count is insane, the highest you've ever had and the number of tips are also sky high.

A tiny, tiny part of you is thankful to your crazy stalker, whom, you haven't seen in the comments section. You could have missed him, sure, but he was silent during the last live too so you can't rest easy knowing he is watching. You're ninety-nine percent sure he's gonna DM you as soon as the live is over.

Which turns out to be accurate.

Just as you are done taking off your mask and stretching your sore muscles after the live, his message pops up on the screen.

[nerdycatboy]: you looked absolutely devouring, little cherry.

You don't know why those words make you flush. Just a little bit, you tell yourself.

[you]: thanks, pervert.

[nerdycatboy]: this pervert would like some pictures today too.

Oh god. You rub your temples.

[you]: definitely not nudes.

[nerdycatboy]: no? :(

[nerdycatboy]: I don't want nudes, ____. Let us build up to it ;) Just snap some of you sitting on your bed with those pouty red lips. And undo another button of your shirt.

It's humiliating how his orders make you curl your toes and feel giddy all over. Like an obedient pet, you do as you're told, a bit too enthusiastically. You take your time and make sure to appear sexy and get the best angles. Once satisfied, you send them to the anonymous and wait eagerly.

[nerdycatboy]: you're a sight for sore eyes.

[you]: Prof Luther's assignment getting to you?

[nerdycatboy]: Mhmm. These will definitely help me power through.

[you]: glad I could be of help 🙄

[nerdycatboy]: you sure are. until your next live, little cherry. don't miss me too much.

You snort.

[you]: yeah, whatever, sicko.

[nerdycatboy]: Also, I'll be sending you a gift. You'll love it. I already do.

Oh god. Worry begins to bloom as your brain tries to think of the gift. What will he be sending you now? What is he gonna make you do on your next live? More importantly, are you seriously looking forward to it?

Yes, you are. This tiny, fucked up part inside you is excited and all too eager to please and obey a random stranger on the internet.

[you]: Please don't.

You type instead.

[nerdycatboy]: You should receive it within the next three days. We'll talk then.

[nerdycatboy]: Bye, little cherry. Sweet dreams.

And he's offline, leaving you hanging once again.

VI.

True to his words and from your worst nightmares, a package arrives three days later. Once again, you're too scared to open it, just standing there in silence while chewing on your lower lip. Your gut is telling you that it won't be something good which means it can only be something humiliating and freaky.

Taking a deep, calming breath, you start to open the outer packaging to find a baby pink cardboard box. There's a note taped on top of the lid.

I can't wait to see you use this on camera, little cherry.

It's only a line but it has you sweating buckets as you take off the lid with shaky hands.

Your world comes to an absolute halt. For long moments, you just stand rooted to your spot with your mouth agape, convinced that this can't be real.

It is, unfortunately.

The asshole sent you a vibrator.

A fucking vibrator.

It's a huge Hitachi wand and just looking at it gives you shivers.

There is absolutely no way...

You're immediately reaching for your phone to fire a text to the asshole.

[you]: Wtf? Is this a joke?

You type and snap a picture of the device to send it to him.

It seems that he has been expecting you to text as he immediately replies.

[nerdycatboy]: It absolutely is not. I am very much looking forward to seeing you use it.

[you]: Fuck you, dickhead. I won't. There's a limit to everything.

[nerdycatboy]: There's no limit to the games we play, little cherry. In fact, this doesn't even begin to cover it. I have more plans for you.

You can't think of a way this could get any worse.

Holding your breath, you wait for him to elaborate.

[nerdycatboy]: Little cherry, do you want to hear my voice?

What?

Your breath catches in your lungs as you stare wide eyed at the text for a long time.

[you]: Yes but not at the cost of this.

[nerdycatboy]: Hmm, as stubborn as ever. What if I told you I'd reveal myself if you use the vibrator on yourself in live?

It's the second time your breath stutters, a small gasp emitting from you as you cup your open mouth.

Immediately, the gears in your brain start turning. You'd finally get to know who he is and end this misery. Maybe you can come up with some sort of dirt on him and blackmail him in return. The possibilities are endless, truly.

However, more than anything else you're excited to finally see who it is and no matter how much you keep telling yourself no, a teeny tiny part of you is eager to pleasure yourself on camera.

God, what have you become, _____.

With a defeated sigh, you start typing.

[you]: You drive a hard bargain.

[you]: Alright. You have a deal but make sure to keep your promise.

[nerdycatboy]: I vow on my degree, little cherry. You will know who I am within the next forty-eight hours.

The thought sends an exciting chill down your spine.

[nerdycatboy]: Exciting, isn't it?

You roll your eyes.

[you]: Shut up and tell me what I need to do in the live.

[nerdycatboy]: Ah, yes. Nothing that tough really, wear that white shirt you wore last time and play with yourself. According to my instructions, of course.

[you]: Your instructions?

[nerdycatboy]: Yes.

I'll be on call with you throughout the live, giving you instructions.

Your curl your toes and bite your lip, a new wave of excitement rising within you as heat pools in your belly. This is unlike anything you've ever done before and way out of your comfort zone but surprisingly, you're all too ready to comply.

Your hands are shaky as you type.

[you]: Okay.

[nerdycatboy]: You are so obedient, my cherry. It really is great fun to play with you.

I'll call you tomorrow just before your live, then.

You swallow.

[you]: Alright.

He doesn't reply anymore and you think he has gone offline. Just as you are about to log out too, another text comes.

[nerdycatboy]: And remember ______, you follow every instruction of mine. That means you follow how I tell you to please yourself and you come when I tell you to. If you do a single thing without my permission, you're absolutely done for.

Your earlier feelings are replaced with an overwhelming feeling of trepidation and doom in the blink of an eye.

Quick realization dawns on you that you are a mere puppet being controlled by an evil puppeteer and your fate is hanging by a thread.

VII.

The next day, you receive an incoming voice call from nerdycatboy just two minutes before your live.

You are ready with your full setup; you just need to start the live when it's time. The AirPods are also set in your ears for him to guide you through.

At first, your entire body freezes up as your phone starts ringing and anxiety envelopes you as and you fall into a spiral. But when you remember how your entire life is on the line, you pick up the phone just as it's about to stop ringing.

Inhaling deeply, you speak.

"Hello?"

There's a beat of silence on the other side.

And another.

And another.

"Start the live, _____. It's time."

The voice is deep, gravelly, familiar yet unfamiliar but you don't get to think long about it because your finger presses the start button and just like that you're on live.

You see yourself on the screen, dressed in a white shirt amidst the neon pink lighting in your room. Today, you've put on a wig— a baby pink wig with two high ponytails and wore a basic black face mask instead of your usual stylish mask that covers the upper half or more of your face. It's obvious you're trying to cover as much of yourself as possible to counter the part that you're going to show.

Oh, sweet lord, you're doing this.

Your greeting and interaction are a lot stiffer compared to other days as there is a sadistic man in your ears. You've also restricted the comment box because you feel it's necessary for today, hence they move slowly as you go through them.

The man in your ears has been quiet but you know he's there, waiting with you, for the view count to reach the minimum. As soon as it does, he speaks.

"Why don't we get started, _____. Introduce your toy to everyone."

You swallow as your panicky gaze lands on the intimidating piece of device right out of the camera frame. You are full of nerves and anxiety and to de-stress yourself just a bit, you take a sip of the wine that you've hidden in your coffee cup.

Then, with a deep breath, you start.

"So guys... I've already said that I'm not gonna be reading today. Instead, I'm trying something new and different. Very, very different." You force a smile at the camera as you pick up the device and grip it tightly in your hand.

"I'm in the mood for...playing tonight and guess what I'm playing with?" You inhale deeply before lifting the device to show it to the camera, moving it around in a teasing manner.

As expected, the people in the comments go insane.

"That's right. I'll be using this pretty toy on me." You give a seductive smile, despite wearing the mask, hoping your eyes coney the expression.

"Good job, little cherry. Let's not waste time now. Turn it on." The man commands quietly and once again you're body acts like it's on autopilot, obeying him immediately.

There's something about his voice, so dangerous, so attractive. Something so powerful you don't dare disobey.

It's insane, really.

As ordered, you plug in the device and turn it on, watching warily as it starts vibrating, your throat going dry.

"Go ahead. Open your legs and put it on your pussy. Don't hold it anywhere too long, though. Tease yourself."

Oh fuck.

The sensible, conscious part of you starts freezing up with fear while the other part lets you only think about how hot all of this is and how eager you are to comply.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you lean back on your seat and part your legs. Trembling hands reach between them to pull your pink lacy panties to one side, revealing yourself to the camera.

There, you've done it.

Something inside you goes numb as you feel the chilly air on your bare core and from then on, you start feeling like a complete puppet, only here to dance as her puppeteer pleases.

Now there's no going back.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see the comments fly by as the view count increases significantly.

Your puppeteer has been silent and you're somewhat grateful for his patience as you slowly adjust to your actions.

With another huge breath, you bring the thrumming device to your pussy and gingerly touch yourself while interacting with the camera, careful to follow the given instructions.

You're so wound up you don't feel any pleasure at the first touch on your pussy.

"You're so tense, _____. Don't make it look like someone is holding you at gunpoint. Relax your body, little cherry."

It proves to be harder said than done.

Still, you try to get yourself to relax and interact with the camera as you once again bring the device to your lips, playing with yourself.

"Good girl, _____. You look absolutely ravishing right now. Just keep following my voice and I promise you'll have the best orgasm you've ever had."

His tone is gentle yet ordering and oh so deep that you close your eyes and just let his words wash over you. The vibrator touches your clit right then making you jolt in your seat, a sigh of pleasure falling from your lips.

"Fuck, you're soaking, little cherry. You can try to act unwilling but deep down you are loving this. This is what you want, what you need, _____." His voice is gravelly as he breathes in your ears and you chew on your lower lip, knowing there is some truth to his words.

"Hold your pussy lips open, cherry. Run the toy up and down your folds."

You do as you are told, holding yourself open to the camera as the vibration goes through your soaking folds, making you whine in need.

"Turn the vibrations up. Just one bit."

The toy thrums stronger against your core and your legs start shaking just the tiniest bit. They have fallen wide open, resting against the armrest of your chair as you play with yourself.

"So obedient, little cherry. And so filthy. You're a real sight." He whispers. Your brain is starting to feel hazy as all your attention hones down to get yourself to release but as you expected, it doesn't prove to be so easy.

"Turn it off. Now."

Despite the serious urge to disobey him, you turn off the vibrator, teeth gritting, your pussy twitching in protest.

"We're you close, little cherry? Too bad, we can't have you cumming so easily. Turn it on again. Stroke yourself with it. Slowly."

And once again, you are eagerly following his words.

"Push it inside your pussy lips, little cherry. Just a bit. Not all the way, though."

Swallowing, you release a shaky breath and slip the vibrating head inside you, just a little bit— not even half of the head and the pleasure significantly increases as you let out a loud moan.

"Feels good doesn't it? Don't you dare slip it all the way in. There's no way I am letting a toy get inside you before myself."

His words make a shiver roll down your spine as you think of his cock and him whispering filthy words in your ear as he takes you. The little, sane part of your brain shakes her head at your deprived thoughts about a faceless man who has been blackmailing you.

"Turn it off."

Just like before, the man seems to know when your orgasm starts to rise. He tells you to shut off the device and much to your reluctance you do so, not knowing how long you can continue this without losing your mind.

"Turn it on to the highest setting this time. Hold it right on your clit. Don't you dare cum, cherry. I wanna see you writhe."

Oh fuck.

It's a really tough challenge, one you're sure you're gonna fail, yet you're helpless. You do as you're told, holding the throbbing device on your most sensitive part as you start to feel like you're gonna lose your mind. Your head falls back as your eyes roll to the back of your head, heavy pants falling from your lips as your legs shake.

"P-please, let me...come."

"You look so fucking hot right now cherry. I want to see you like this, begging for my cock. Tell me, do you want it?"

"Y-yes. Please..." You are so close you can taste the release.

"Turn it off, cherry. Right now."

With a cry of protest, you turn off the vibrator and let it fall from your hands as you slump back in your chair and catch your breath.

This is the sweetest torture.

The comments go wild, some wanting to see you come and some telling you to keep edging yourself. As you watch the number of tips only increase, your toes curl at the indecency of all of this.

"Let's continue, baby. Turn it on, play with yourself."

Hands shaky, you reach for the device again.

This game of cat and mouse continues until you're a crying and begging mess. He finally grants you your release and then rewards you with a short break before continuing. In the next couple of hours, you come three more times and your bones turn to jelly by the end of it. The live reaches its end when he finally hangs up the call and you're all too quick to wrap things up.

When your computer screen goes black and you can see your disheveled state in the reflection, your mind blanks out as you sit in complete silence, the happenings of the evening slowly replaying in your mind.

The money you've earned tonight is more than you could ever imagine and yet there is no happiness or relief bubbling in you. Rather, you feel empty and absolutely numb, the past hours feeling like a fever dream but the ache between your legs tell you they are very painfully real.

The screen of your phone lights up with two notifications, interrupting your trance.

nerdycatboy has sent you 1000$

[nerdycatboy]: a little gift for your hard work

You stare at the screen in silence until it goes black and then some more. It takes a while for you to realize tears are rolling down your cheeks. And then you are full-on sobbing as you hide your face in your hands and weep at the overwhelmingly miserable situation of yours.

When you finally get some sleep it is late into the night and tears are staining your cheeks and your pillowcase.

VIII.

Despite the rough night, you attend your classes the next day, somewhat glad that they are in the evening. You doze through all of it though, tired and way too distracted to pay attention to the lecture.

The tips of your fingers drum continuously against your desk as you wait for the class to be over. Your mind is spiraling; going haywire thinking about the fact that you will be meeting nerdycatboy today.

That is if he keeps his promise.

He hasn't contacted you since last night and given his stalker-ish tendencies, you're sure he knows your schedule. So why hasn't he messaged you yet?

Probably because he played you, silly girl.

You let out a loud sigh, frustrated, exhausted and enraged. How much longer will this match of cat and mouse go on? You have seriously started to consider shutting off your page temporarily because playing this stupid game with the anonymous asshole is proving to be way too much for you to bear.

The lecture finishes at some point while you're stuck inside your head and as you start packing your bags, you receive a text.

It's him.

I'll meet you at the library building in half an hour.

Your head immediately snaps up as your eyes scan the crowd leaving the classroom, a failed attempt to pinpoint him.

Okay, I'll be waiting.

You grab a coffee while waiting for him, your foot tapping the ground incessantly as you come to terms with the fact that you will be seeing him soon. Your misery will finally be over.

Hopefully.

What do you do when you see him? Curse at his face? Hit him? Or say it was nice playing stupid games with you now please leave me alone?

You've no idea. Your nerves leave you feeling jittery and tense as you see the clock hit seven in the evening. Half an hour is almost up so you start walking towards the library building, goosebumps arising on your skin as shivers roll down your spine.

You don't know if it's the chilly evening air or your nerves.

The library closes at six thirty so there is no one around the building now. The sun has long set and the sky is dark now, save for the little bits of orange and pink here and there.

It could be your brain projecting things but the atmosphere feels eerie and you wonder why he chose such an empty place. What does he plan to do with you? He wouldn't have chosen a quiet place unless he had some bad intentions, right?

Stop overthinking, _____. Your brain hisses.

The watch on your hand reads 7:10 now and there's no sign of anybody. Anxious, you shoot him a text, asking where he is and as expected you don't get a reply.

Tired of looking around the area with wide and restless eyes you decide to step inside the building. The ground floor is still unlocked as there are a few storage units here and you make yourself comfortable in the dimly lit hallway, leaning by a small window and focusing on the garden outside to distract yourself.

Seconds pass by with your feet tapping on the tile floor in matching beats. You grow more impatient, repeatedly checking the time and your message to see if it has been read.

Until you hear footsteps.

They echo down the hall as someone enters the building.

You hold your breath and watch the silhouette, your eyes taking a few seconds to adjust to the lighting.

And your entire world crashes and burns.

It's Jeon Wonwoo, walking towards you.

IX.

The first thing you tell yourself is that this is a coincidence, that he's here to get something from the supply closet. But the idea seems less and less plausible as he keeps walking towards you, his strides determined and only stops a few feet away from you.

You gulp, your entire body frozen as you gape at him with wide eyes, waiting for him to say something.

Judging from the upturned corners of his lips, your reaction seems to amuse him plenty. He stands there, his hands in his pockets as he watches you with a twinkle in his eyes and says the words you were still praying he wouldn't.

"Hello, little cherry."

X.

Despite expecting those words, the shock that overcomes your system is enough to make you lose your footing as you stumble on your feet, hands reaching for the wall behind you to support yourself.

Your breath comes out in the form of short pants as small beads of sweat gather on your forehead.

You knew, you knew, you knew.

You knew it!

The second you heard his voice yesterday, your subconscious told you it was Wonwoo. You, however, chose to be ignorant, dismissing the idea just as quickly as it appeared.

There was no way it could be Wonwoo. Except it is.

You should be glad it is him, no? After all the man you had imagined in the place of the faceless man was always Wonwoo. He had been the man of your fantasies for the longest time yet the feeling of betrayal and hurt is overwhelming.

Funny, considering that he didn't actually betray you. If anything, you have been betraying yourself.

Wonwoo stands in front of you, still as a statue, hands in his pockets, his stance calmer than a winter evening. His face is blank but there is a glint in his eyes, something between sadistic amusement and cocky satisfaction as he watches you crumble in front of him.

Where is the plain old nerdy Wonwoo?

"Wo-Wonwoo..." You don't know what you are trying to say as you lose your train of thought, dropping abruptly onto the ground. Accidentally, you scrape your index finger by the windowsill but your brain registers no pain due to the overwhelming shock as you simply sit in silence and stare as little drops of blood ooze out of the cut.

God, this is straight out of your worst nightmares.

Or, your darkest, filthiest fantasies?

Wonwoo, however, seems to spot the drops of red beading on your fingertips which you ignore. He takes slow but determined steps toward you, his footsteps echoing eerily through the empty hallway. When he is right in front of you, he stops before kneeling on one knee as one of his hands reaches for your injured finger.

He watches the little drops of blood ooze through the cut with rapt attention, his dark eyes somehow appearing darker in the dim lights. Then, surprising you, he takes your hand and brings the bleeding finger to his lips, his eyes intently focused on yours as he sucks the little cut. Your breath hitches, half of yourself wanting to yank your hand away from disgust and rage while the majority of you remain paralyzed as the hauntingly mesmerizing scene plays in front of you.

"Be careful now, can't have you getting hurt now, can we, little cherry?" He takes the finger out of his mouth and observes while the corners of his lips lift into an eerie smile that finally manages to bring some heat into your blood as you seize your hand out of his grip.

"Fuck you, asshole! You're fucking sick!" You hiss out the words you never thought you would say to Wonwoo.

Your attack brings an even bigger smile to his lips as he reaches out and gently tucks a strand of stray hair behind your ear. "Oh little cherry, tell me something I don't know."

You swallow and try to scoot away from him despite the limited space. "Did you have fun bullying me, you sicko?"

"Come on now, _____. Let's not twist the truth. I was not bullying you. We were just playing a game. Besides, I should be the one to ask that." He coos at you, his voice so innocent it makes your brain trip. Tilting his head to a side he keeps stroking your cheek with his fingertips and whispers, "Did you have fun being ordered around by me? By being humiliated? Hm, pretty girl?"

Your eyes widen and you swallow nervously, clenching your hands in tight fists to stop yourself from hitting him.

He chuckles. "It's alright. You don't have to answer that." He stands up, puts his hands in his pockets and stares down at you, tilting his head once more as if you're one fascinating creature. "Because we both know you loved it."

"I didn't!" Your protest is immediate as you muster every bit of strength to stand up and get into his face. "I didn't, you asshole. Don't kid yourself!"

Another pleased smile graces his lips. "Really? You didn't like it every time I called you a good girl? You didn't get more wet every time I told you I'd reward you with my cock?" He inches his face closer to yours, leaving just an inch of a gap.

"Do not kid yourself, _____." His voice drops a pitch as you feel the shift in him, goosebumps breaking on your skin. "You call me names but deep down you know you are a filthy slut and you loved being treated that way."

No. No, you didn't.

Or did you?

"Shut up!" You yell, pushing him with all your might as he stumbles a few steps back. There's a little pause in the air before his eyes meet yours as he pushes his glasses over the bridge of his nose.

"You want me to shut up because you know that it's the truth, _____-"

"Stop psychoanalyzing me!" You hiss, a fresh coat of tears blurring your vision. "Look at yourself, you twisted fucking jerk!"

You push past him as you try to stomp away but his hand catches your arm at the last second, tugging your body close to him. He leans down, his breath hovering on your ear as he whispers. "You better watch your mouth, cherry or I'll show you just how twisted I am. And you might not live to even see through it."

A bucket of ice-cold water seems to wash over you as you realize the gravity of the situation. For the first time since meeting Wonwoo, you're actually scared for your life, especially when you gaze into his pitch black pupils and the little flash of teeth peeking between his lips. Even though his grip on your arm is ironclad, you yank your arm away with all your strength and start running away from him, your heart thudding loudly in your ribcage.

You dash straight out of the library and you only stop until you're in front of a convenience store far enough. Falling on your knees, you catch your breath as you pant heavily, eyes scanning around to make sure he didn't follow you.

A new sense of fear and doom settles over you as you start to realize you might have walked into a situation that may not allow you to get out.

Alive, at least.

What's worse is that a part of you is actually excited.

XI.

Sorry guys, I cannot be doing today's and next week's livestream due to some personal problems. Please understand. Thank you!

You post the notice on your camming page and lean back in your chair, exhaling a loud sigh. The past night has been tiring with the constant struggle of being alert and a dreadful paranoia that won't leave you alone. Jeon the twisted Wonwoo keeps reappearing in your thoughts, haunting you whatever you do.

Within minutes after your post, you get a notification of an inbox and you don't have to see it to know it's the one and only, Jeon psycho Wonwoo.

[nerdycatboy]: Must have really scared you, eh?

You stare at it for a while, thinking of something snarky to reply but nothing comes up so you just decided to ignore it.

He doesn't give up.

[nerdycatboy]: Don't be scared, cherry. We've had so much fun until now. You know it deep down.

Why ignore the obvious?

You sigh, rubbing your temples.

You really need a break from all this. From him.

[you]: Can you leave me alone for one day? Please?

He doesn't text back for a while.

[nerdycatboy]: Since I'm feeling kind, sure. I won't bother you for the next twenty-four hours. We'll talk after you've regained some of your composure and hopefully your senses.

[nerdycatboy]: Because deep down you know what you really want and you know that I'm the only one that can provide it.

[nerdycatboy]: Sweet dreams, little cherry.

His message radiates a type of threat the longer you stare at it and your mind starts to go haywire. So you shut your laptop off and lie in your bed in silence, his words repeating over and over in your head like a mantra.

Deep down you know what you really want and you know that I'm the only one that can provide it.

Yes, yes you do know that. And you feel absolutely horrible for it. Who in their sane mind would allow an unhinged, deadly man to humiliate and low-key blackmail them online for some twisted form of entertainment?

You, for sure.

Your issues run deep, girl.

You mentally shake your head at the situation. If you're attracted to a man like that there has to be something wrong with you, no? But what is worse is deep down, you don't want to stop. You want to push and push and take it to the very end, extremely curious to see what is in store for you with Wonwoo.

Nothing dull, for sure.

And as if you needed more proof; you end up seeing the man even in your dreams, where he does unspeakably filthy things to you and you only beg for more.

XII.

Sunday afternoon, when you're done soaking in the tub for a good hour while enjoying a much needed glass of wine, you sit on your robe and do your skincare when your doorbell rings.

You're confused because you aren't expecting anyone. However, when you peer into the peephole your confusion flips into terror and panic as you see Wonwoo standing.

You must be seeing things, right?

No, you realize, once you double check.

What do you do now? Pretend you're not at home? Tell him to fuck off? Call the police?

You're being too dramatic, your subconscious rolls her eyes.

But your emotions are valid because you have been ignoring texts from the man. True to his words he gave you just twenty four hours before starting to send you messages again that you were too overwhelmed and cowardly to open. Now you're realizing what a horrible decision that was.

Shaking off the thoughts you straighten up and square your shoulders, taking a deep breath as you open the door.

Wonwoo stands there, looking unfairly good, dressed in a plain loose white tee and dark blue jeans, his black hair falling messily on his forehead, a few strands lying on top of his steel-framed glasses.

You briefly wonder if you have a glasses kink, if there is even such a thing.

He stands there looking so boyfriend material, it devastates you, making you wonder if this is an alternate universe where you're a 'normal' couple.

Because he definitely doesn't look like a sadistic, anti-social, slightly psycho nutjob right now. And it messes up your brain chemistry badly.

"Hi," your voice is akin to a mouse squeaking as you feel hot all over.

"Hello, _____." His voice is so sinfully deep.

Why is acting so normal? Like he's a classmate here to do an assignment with you?

"I... wasn't expecting you..." You stumble over your words.

"You weren't replying to my messages so I thought I'd pay you a visit. Make sure you're okay, you know? Our last meeting really shook you up."

You really can't tell if he's teasing you or being genuine but the delusional part of you takes it as a genuine effort.

"May I come in?"

"Of course!" You blink, moving to make way for him. He walks past you, leaving a trail of his cologne wafting in the air that creates a sudden urge within you to grab onto him and sniff him like a dog.

Yeah, you have serious issues.

You follow him awkwardly as he looks around your small space.

"Would you like something to drink? Tea, coffee...water?" Somehow offering him wine right now doesn't feel appropriate.

"Tea, please. Black."

Why is he being so...nice? So normal? Is this the climax of his games? Murdering you in your own home after sweet talking you? After making you drop your guards? You shake your head at the possibility and watch the kettle as it heats the water, waiting for him to initiate a conversation which he doesn't.

This is suffocating.

When you offer him the steaming mug he murmurs a thanks and then asks, "Where's your setup? I'd like to see it."

Uh oh.

"Uhm," you fiddle with your fingers, suddenly nervous. "It's in my bedroom."

"Mind giving me a tour?" His face doesn't give away any malicious intent but then again, he has always been great at keeping a blank face. If anything, he genuinely sounds curious.

Sighing, you guide him to your bedroom. The room is decent size with your bed on one side and your setup on the other. It's nothing fancy, just your pc and your huge, comfortable chair.

"When I film I put up a screen behind me and turn on some lights, you know," you mumble trying to fill the void. He looks around carefully before casually taking a seat on your bed and sipping on his tea.

"It's pretty. Like you, little cherry." His eyes connect with yours and your skin breaks out in goosebumps.

He's so... attractive. Everything about him. His looks, his voice, his attitude, his low-key psychotic persona.

"Take a seat, I won't bite." He says, his signature smirk finally appearing as you shudder before tentatively sitting next to him on your bed, still keeping a few inches of space.

"How did you find my address?" You ask softly.

He shrugs, drinking his tea, "Did some snooping around."

Not surprising. Not unlikely of him either.

"Have you thought about what I said, little cherry? About what you really want?" He asks, his voice a deep timbre as he sets down the mug on your bedside table.

Oh boy, we're not beating around the bush.

"Are you seriously here to talk about that?"

"Answer my question." The way he says those words make you weak in the knees.

"Yes," you swallow, not breaking eye contact with him. A pleased smile graces his soft pink lips and you're hit with the sudden temptation of kissing them.

"And what is your conclusion?" He asks, leaning closer to you, his scent making your brain hazy. One of his fingers traces over your cheekbone and then past your jaw to your neck.

It's electrifying.

''W-what if I want nothing to do with you?" You whisper. He laughs quietly before whispering in your ear, "That is not an option because we both know that's the last thing you want, little girl."

Little girl. Your insides swoon.

His face is now inches apart from yours, his fingers caressing your cheek oh so softly as he watches you with those dark, seductive eyes of his.

It doesn't take a second for you to make your decision.

"Will...will you kiss me, Wonwoo?" You croak.

He arches a surprised brow before smiling in great pleasure as he leans back to watch you. "You are always a surprise, _____. Only if you say please."

"Please."

"Good girl," he praises and that's almost enough to make you come. He wastes no time, cupping both of your cheeks and pressing his lips to yours. Fireworks go off in your head. Your hands move to clutch his shoulders and a soft needy moan escapes your lips when you feel how solid they are.

Holy mother of gods, you need to get dicked down by him.

Immediately.

Wonwoo's tongue explores every bit of your mouth as his hands grab your jaw and neck tighter, his body shuffling close to deepen the kiss. You become a puppet and let him play with you as you melt in his arms, letting him lead however he wants to.

When you two break apart you're panting heavily. Wonwoo watches you with glinting eyes, his pink lips slightly swollen like yours as his thumb traces over your lips. You subconsciously open them and he pushes his thumb in, making you suck on his digit.

You do so eagerly, not breaking eye contact with him. Heat pools in your belly as his nostrils flare and he grunts. "You're a wicked little minx you know that, little cherry?"

I can be whatever you need, you inwardly purr as you give him a particular hard suck before he takes it back.

"You want my cock? Is that what you're trying to say?" He questions, standing up and tilting your chin to meet his gaze.

You can only nod, breathless with anticipation.

"I need words, ______. You're not mute." His voice is commanding, and scolding, which makes you even wetter.

"Please fuck me, Wonwoo."

He grins. An evil, victorious grin.

"Good girl. Stand up." You do so and he tugs the belt on your robe, making it fall open in a fluid motion. Your hands move to cover yourself but he glares at you in warning, making you stop halfway.

"Don't be shy now." He whispers, letting the material fall off your shoulders, leaving you completely naked. "I've seen this pussy on camera already, no?"

You swallow as his fingers trace between your legs and then easily slips one finger in due to your wetness. You sigh in pleasure while he lets out a satisfied hum.

"Tell me," he cups your pussy, thumb stroking your clit as you shudder. "How many men have touched this before me?"

You shake your head. "N-no one."

He tilts his head, a wry smile on his face. "Are you telling me I'm your first, baby?"

You nod, slightly shaking.

"Fuck, you just made me ten times harder. I'm gonna have much more fun defiling you now."

You gulp, stuck in a trance as you let him guide you back to bed with a hard push. You land on your back and watch Wonwoo take his tee off and boy, is that a sight. Your thighs automatically press together when his sculpted body comes into view and the sight of his broad shoulders makes you clutch the bedsheets in a tight fist.

However, something catches your eye; a patch of scarred skin right on his left abdomen, spreading from the front to his back and if you had to guess you'd say it is a burn mark. You don't get to think about it long because he's distracting you with a kiss.

"Like what you see?" He's cocky.

You nod, eyes settling on the bulge in his jeans, waiting for him to take it off so that you can see the object of your desires.

Alas, he has other plans for you.

"Open your legs, little cherry."

They fall apart on command as Wonwoo gets comfort between them, one of his hands trailing over your breasts and your belly while the other softly strokes your sopping wet core. It's embarrassing how easily he can slip two fingers deep inside you. "So fucking wet, you dirty whore." He muses with a smirk.

God, you love his voice.

Your moans rise in pitch as his fingers develop a rhythm, thrusting in and out of you in precise, perfect movements. Your release is so close you can taste it.

Automatically, your hips rise off the bed as your body tilts itself upward for a little stimulation on your clit. Wonwoo takes notice of it and laughs, "Aw, little whore is gonna come so soon? You want me to do this?"

The brush of the pad of his finger is enough to set you off as you scream and let your release wash over you. Your toes curl as you fist the sheets hard enough to almost rip them, riding out your high while he continues to plunge his digits in and out of you.

Once you finally get to catch your breath, he pulls them out and pops the fingers in his mouth, making a show of licking them.

You shudder, your body preparing for another round as moisture gathers between your legs once again.

"Fucking delicious." He grins, making you heat up all over. There is nowhere to hide, your whole body on display for him and he doesn't mask his appreciation as he drinks up every naked inch of you with a devouring gaze.

"Please, f-fuck me," you're not shy about begging as the need for his cock worsens.

"Oh I will," he promises, taking off his glasses and setting them down on your bedside table. Without much thinking your fingers trail over his chiseled abdomen and then down, over the tent of his pants as you fiddle with the button, trying to open it. Wonwoo amuses you for a while before batting your hand away, glaring at you. "Did I give you permission to touch me?"

You bite your lip and shake your head no.

"That's right." His voice is calm as he watches you for a few beats, hungry eyes trained on your lips before his right hand suddenly comes to wrap around your throat.

Your breath stutters as you watch him, wide eyed.

"Touch me again without permission and you won't be coming anytime soon." He threatens, tightening the grip on your throat as your airflow gradually decreases, making you feel fuzzy. You should be scared for your life, but you aren't, instead, the action only makes you wetter as you rub your thighs and mewl and beg with your eyes to ease the ache.

He listens.

Letting you go, he gets off the bed and takes off his pants and boxers, while your brain and lungs catch up due to the lack of oxygen. You blink and gulp when you see how blessed he is in length and girth, your breathing irregular.

Smirking at your reaction, he gets back on the bed and traps you beneath him, amusement and satisfaction dancing in his eyes. "I don't think you'll need any more prepping," he muses, trailing his fingers to your pussy and dipping one in the collect your arousal. You vehemently shake your head yes.

He laughs. "Hungry for cock, slut?"

"Y-yes." You whisper, breathless, wide eyed, needy.

Wonwoo leans down to nip on your jaw and your neck as he aligns himself with your entrance. Then, a thought comes to you.

"We... don't have a condom..."

"I'm clean, little cherry. Besides, there's no way I'd not take this virgin cunt bare." His words are vile and his smile is diabolical, sending shivers down your spine. It's alarming how attractive you find his insanity.

"Hold on to me. Bite my shoulder if it hurts too much." That's all the warning you get and not enough time to process as he shoves his cock inside you in one go. A loud wail erupts from your throat as tears burn your eyes, your nails digging into Wonwoo's biceps as you cling to him for dear life.

"So fucking tight." His voice is hoarse as he remains still for a few seconds, letting you catch your breath. The pain of the stretch doesn't ease up but the man on top of you isn't too bothered. He starts thrusting, slow, small thrusts at first as you rest your head in the crook of his neck and hold him tight, breathing harshly.

Soon, his pace increases, hitting that perfect spot inside you that makes you see stars and your toes curl. Feeling you tighten around him, he chuckles, "You like that? You like it when I hit here?" He punctuates by thrusting you right there once again and you scream.

"Yes! Harder!"

He scoffs. "Such a slut. How did you survive so long without a dick shoved up inside you, huh?" He leans back, prying your body off of him and grabs both your cheeks in one hand, puckering your lips. "Want it harder? Say please."

"P-please," you manage to utter despite his strong grip on your jaw. Your cheeks ache from how hard he grabs you but you're once again surprised by how much the pain turns you on.

"Open your mouth," he commands, intense eyes trained on you, his pace never faltering. You are not going to last very long, you realize.

You follow his command and open your mouth as he eases his grip and stunning you, he spits right into your mouth.

"Swallow it, little whore." He orders, making your pussy clench deliciously. You once again do as you're told.

"You loved that, didn't you?" He scoffs. "You are a real treat, little cherry. You're fucking perfect." His hands wrap around your throat, almost as leverage as his pace becomes wild, driving in and out of you so fast, the bed starts shaking.

"I'm..gonna come." You whisper. The pressure building inside you is about to burst and you can't hold it any longer. Not resuming his pace or bothering to acknowledge your words, Wonwoo keeps on going while slithering a hand down to your core, where he flicks your clit before roughly pinching it.

You go off like a rocket.

The pleasure is mind-numbing, making you arch off the bed with a wail. It's like a tsunami of pleasure has crashed onto you and it only amplifies when you feel him swell inside you before releasing himself. Your pussy is coated with warm bursts of his cum as your body continues to shake, still riding the wave of your high.

You feel him pull out, his cum trickling out of your spent hole as you still float back down to earth and before you can let out a sigh of relief that it is over, he's spreading your legs as wide as they can go, getting you in a spread eagle position.

"Keep your legs like that, slut." He commands, leaning down to capture your lips in a bruising kiss. It's all teeth and tongue and fierce that once again lights up the fire in your core.

What has this man done to you?

You're insatiable, riding a never ending lust filled high as you watch the insanely hot man on top of you. His hair is messier now and there's a light sheen of sweat on his body that only adds to the appeal.

You don't know if you want to devour him or be devoured by him.

"I'm not done with you yet." He murmurs, watching you with dark eyes as he strokes his cock. "Look at your blood on my cock, little cherry. Isn't that a sight?" He grins, flashing his teeth.

Goosebumps rake down your spine.

"I always loved blood but having you bleed on my cock? This is just incomparable, sweetheart." He pushes a couple of his fingers coated in your blood and his cum and shoves them into your mouth. You're all too eager to lick them clean without a second of delay.

Your tongue dances on his digits, licking them clean and tasting the metallic, bitter flavor before he pops them off your lips. Then, once again leaving you flabbergasted, he slaps you on the right cheek. It doesn't hurt bad but it stings and you're ashamed of how much you liked it.

The evil smile is back on his face. "You like that?" He smacks your other cheek and you nod eagerly. At this point you realize, there's nothing this man can do to you that you wouldn't like.

"You're an absolute fucking piece, little cherry. I'm so glad I snatched you up. Couldn't let any other man have you, could I?"

He kisses your jaw before moving towards your neck, sniffing as he goes. "You smell so addictive. So... mine." He muses as he sucks on the tender spot on your neck, making you sigh in pleasure.

"Please, Wonwoo..." You are desperate and your legs hurt from staying wide open. The plea reaches his ears as he sits back and puts his fingers in his mouth, wetting them before shoving them inside your sore yet throbbing pussy. He plunges them in and out for a while, pushing his cum back inside you and watching with a smirk how your mouth falls open in pleasure.

And then he thrusts himself in. You know this time it is gonna be quick with his extra fast movements as he holds your calves for leverage and pounds in and out of you restlessly. You're on the brink of losing your sanity with how good he feels, unceremonious moans and gasps continuously leaving your mouth.

Suddenly a smack graces you on the cheek, making your body jerk and pussy tighten. It takes a while to realize Wonwoo has slapped you again and once you do so, you eagerly wait for another. Unlike last time, your cheek heats up from the force and you can actually feel the flesh burn but gosh, do you not love it any less.

"Dirty fucking slut. Letting me treat you however I want. You love it, no? You love the pain?" He hisses, brows furrowed as his pace starts to falter. You nod eagerly moving your hips against his, desperately chasing your end.

Two punctuated thrusts on your g-spot and you come without any warning. Once again, you feel like you're launched into outer space as your entire body jerks, leaving you gasping for air. Wonwoo releases himself all over your stomach and tits this time, soft groans of pleasure falling from his lips.

It's addictive.

Everything about this man is addictive.

He is the sweetest form of darkness, here to drag you down to hell with him. And you have no complaints.

That is your last coherent thought before you fall into a peaceful slumber.

XIII.

The next day, Wonwoo sits next to you in class, acting like his usual self, like he didn't blow your back out last night. He stays mostly quiet and keeps to himself, focusing on the lecture and taking notes. However, underneath the desk, his hand holds your thigh in a possessive grip, his fingers dancing over your sensitive flesh.

It is safe to say you don't get to focus much on the lesson.

After the class, you and Wonwoo grab a cool drink and sit on one of the benches laid throughout the campus field.

You are still processing the events of last night and seeing how he hasn't mentioned it even once, you wonder if it was all your imagination.

No, it was all too real to be untrue.

As you sit next to him and chew on your straw, you wonder how you should approach the subject. Wonwoo, who has been silently enjoying his drink suddenly speaks, just as you get your thoughts together. It, however, is the last thing you expected him to say.

"Did I ever tell you about how I murdered a man?"

Your body turns into a block of ice as you whip your head towards Wonwoo, who sits with his elbows resting on his knees, an impassive look on his face. Silently, you blink a few times, waiting, just to make sure you didn't hear him wrong.

He is kidding.

Right?

He tilts his head to face you, a wry chuckle escaping his lips as he shakes his head at your expression. "Come on now, little cherry, don't look so shocked."

You cough and look away, a lame attempt to mask your expression. "I don't want to know anything I should not know." You murmur, looking down at the ground. "Besides, you're joking, right?"

"No, I'm not." He laughs a little, before exhaling loudly. "I also doubt you'd tattle on me. Who would fuck you so good like last night if I went to jail?"

His words make you squirm in your seat.

"Besides, it's a really interesting story. One I've never told anyone before."

Should you feel honored?

Wonwoo seems to take your silence as a yes because he starts narrating. "Once upon a time, there was a man. An alcoholic, pathetic excuse of a man who did terrible things to a woman, my mother. I was very young when it started. He'd beat the shit out of her for every little reason. It would only get worse when he got drunk, which was more often than not. Sometimes he'd lock her up in the basement and keep her naked and unfed. One time, when I was about ten years old, he broke every finger on her right hand just because the dinner wasn't served on time."

You have stopped breathing by now, as you sit in absolute silence, your limbs immobile as if you are paralyzed. You have a very good idea of where this story is going and how it might end. That should make you want to get up and leave but you just can't bring yourself to, as you sit mute and take occasional tentative peeks at the man next to you.

"That was the first time I stood up to him. My mother had passed out from the pain and I yelled at him and pushed him which made him take it out on me too. He hadn't hit me ever before. But that night, he kept on going till the dawn, as if making up for all the times he didn't."

He falls silent for a few moments and you take a chance to peek at him. As always, it's impossible to read him, his face an emotionless canvas and his eyes emptier than a desert, lost somewhere in his dark memories. You can't help but wonder if he feels any pain or remorse as he recalls his traumatic past. If he does, how can he mask it so well?

"Six months after that, my mother fell off the roof of our building. The police concluded it as suicide because they found out she was drunk. But she wasn't."

"The night before, as always, the pathetic loser came home drunk and smashed things around for a while. There was a ruby necklace that my grandmother gave to my mother when she got married. That night, he was asking for it because he needed immediate cash and my mother wouldn't give it. She probably had enough because that was the only night she stood up against him and she protested hard. I remember her smashing a bottle on his head. Of course, he wouldn't let that slide but something was different about him that night. He was more despairing, more evil. He slapped her around a few times before choking her until she passed out. I can still hear his words in my head.

I'll get rid of you tonight bitch.

I'll get rid of you for good."

He then took out a bunch of booze and ordered her to drink them, saying that if she resisted, I'd get the beatings. She obeyed him and I only watched, as I always did and he kept forcing her to drink till she couldn't utter a coherent word or couldn't even remain seated. Once she passed out from all the booze he came to me and patted my head. With the evilest of smiles, he said,

"Go to your room. You don't need to learn everything so early."

"Then he locked me in his bedroom and didn't let me go until the morning. By then the police had come and removed her body. Those imbeciles decided it was suicide and ended the investigation just like that.

I could have told them that it was a murder but I didn't. My mother's death stunned me so much that I couldn't speak for the next few months and the asshole used it to his advantage. He acted like the best father and husband in front of the police but then came and took out all his anger and frustration on me."

He finally pauses to take a look at you and your face must have been an open book because he chuckles, "Why do you look so pale already? I haven't even gotten to the best part yet."

You want to tell him that you look pale not because of the story but because you feel sad for the fucked up man sitting next to you and his fucked up childhood. Even though he has yet to reveal how his father died you have already convinced yourself that he deserved it.

"A year went by like that." Wonwoo continues. "My mother was gone and I was the new punching bag for the asshole. He'd beat me up almost every day but he wasn't that dumb. He would never hit me in the face because I went to school and people could ask questions. I endured it all, in fact, I might have even started to crave it. I started to think I deserved it and so I took it...until one afternoon. I had just gotten home from school. He was sitting in the living room, drinking and watching TV. He seemed to be in an okay mood so I showed him my report card and asked him to sign it so that I could submit it the next day. He was quiet for a while until he saw my marks in English.

He took a bottle of booze and poured it all over my report card, saying a loser like me is better off without one. Something snapped inside of me and I yelled at him. So he broke that bottle on my head and stuffed that wet report card into my mouth and started beating me up.

After he was done he told me to get him a glass of water and go out to buy more beer for him. There was a nearby store that knew us and let me purchase alcohol. At that moment I made a split-second decision. I went to the kitchen, grabbed some rat poison and mixed it in his water before giving it to him. When he passed out I went back into the kitchen and pulled out the gas pipe and turned the knob open, letting it leak all over. I then lit a match and watched as the entire house caught on fire in seconds. I got burned too, as you can tell from the scars you saw last night. I ran out and sat on the other side of the road, just watching the fire spread. The thought of him burning alive in there brought me so much pleasure that I forgot my own pain.

It was right after noon and we lived in a relatively deserted area so it took a while for people to find out and call the police. They never suspected me because why would a twelve year old set his house on fire? The neighbors also testified that the asshole was an alcoholic so the police concluded it as another accident."

He concludes with a loud exhale. Turning his head to face you, he smirks wryly, "And that's how I successfully got away with my first murder."

You are left with a loss of words so you just give him a shaky nod and stare down at your legs, trying to process everything.

A few beats of silence seem to pass before Wonwoo reaches for your chin and uses it to tilt your face up. He smirks, "Scared of me now, aren't you?"

You sigh, gently removing your chin from his grip. "No, Wonwoo, I'm not. You did what you had to survive. It's admirable how you held on for so long."

For the first time, you see an emotion vividly on his face; shock. His eyes widen and his lips part to a little 'o' as he gapes at you, stunned. His reaction evokes some sort of longing within yourself as you reach for his hand and hold it between yours. "I am not scared of you because there is nothing to be. You were a little boy and you had gone through so much. It's fucked up but you did it to survive and you've come so far-"

"I don't want your pity and I don't want you to psychoanalyze me." He hisses, cutting you off as he yanks his hand away from your grip. You can see the fierce anger in his gaze so you shake your head.

"I am not pitying you and neither am I psychoanalyzing you. Trust me, I am in no position to do that. Especially because I believe that that man was an absolute piece of garbage and he deserved what you have done to him, if not worse. I would have done the same, Wonwoo, long ago. You held on for so long. That makes you a survivor, not a bad guy."

Your words seem to sink into him as he remains quiet, watching you with careful yet wondrous eyes. You sigh, realizing that he probably isn't believing you so you decide to give him, and yourself, some space.

Just as you stand up, he yanks you down by your hand, making you fall awkwardly onto his lap. Then, before your brain can catch up, he kisses you, rough and fast.

His lips smash with yours as he holds a strong grip on your neck, angling your face to his advantage. His tongue explores every inch of your mouth, colliding with yours as your body goes lax and you give into him. It's like an aphrodisiac— his kiss, his touch, that makes you lose your guard as you fall deeper and deeper into an abyss.

When he pulls back, you are both panting heavily for air. "Do you realize what you just said?" He grunts, those fox-like eyes staring at you making your toes curl and your insides swirl. In a daze, you hum, "Hmm?"

"You'd make a great accomplice for a murder, no?" He chuckles, his thumb tracing your swollen bottom lip while you keep staring at his lips. All coherent thoughts and senses have left your body long ago as you find yourself swimming in the sweetest poison that is Wonwoo.

"More." You breathe.

He smirks, that evil, confident smirk of his that makes your panties wet. Once again, he starts moving before you can process anything, dragging you behind him and straight to one of the storage rooms in a nearby building. You follow him blindly and as soon as the door is locked, he pins you against the wall and between himself, effectively trapping you. Yet, there is nowhere you want to escape to.

"You are an enigma, you know that, little cherry?" He whispers, trailing kisses down your jaw as his hands work on unbuttoning your top. He quickly takes it off along with your bra before taking a step back and yanking your skirt down. The zipper on the waist lets out a groan of protest that falls onto your deaf ears as you remain too busy ogling the ungodly hot man in front of you.

"Take me out."

Your body is on autopilot as you immediately undo his belt and pull down the zipper.

"Put your hands over my shoulders and hold tight. Wrap your legs around me." He commands as one of his hands holds you below your thigh while the other positions himself on your entrance.

And before you can blink, he's inside you. The initial stretch of the intrusion makes you jolt and let out a loud gasp of pain but it's quick to dull. One of his hands covers your mouth, his dark eyes indicating you to remain silent while he starts to move in and out of you.

Oh boy, is it hard to remain silent.

Especially, when you can feel every delicious inch of him, moving in and out of you ruthlessly, making your body shake from the onslaught of pleasure. Your grip on his shoulders tightens as little squeaks escape from your lips and your legs wrap themselves around his body tighter when you start to taste your release.

"Gosh, you're such a slut, letting me fuck you against a wall, in a store room." Wonwoo grits, a twisted smirk on his lips as his gaze roams over your face leisurely. "What if someone comes in right now, huh? What if they see you bouncing your pretty ass on my cock?"

"Mmph," you try to moan, the image sending short circuits to your brain. Wonwoo chuckles, loving your reaction. "You'd like that, won't you? You're one filthy little slut, my cherry." He grins after giving you a particular hard thrust, that makes your toes curl.

"P-please," you pant, breathless trying to grind your clit against his pelvis. One touch on your clit and you're gonna come. "Please, touch me."

The man only smiles, a cruel, mocking smile as he grabs your wrists in one hand and pins them hard on the wall behind you before thrusting once, twice, so hard that your back starts aching. Though you can't bring yourself to complain because the next moment his release is filling you up, making you moan unceremoniously.

When you think he's now gonna help you get off, the man only releases you and starts fixing himself up leaving you panting against the wall awkwardly, with the worst ache between your legs.

"W-what about me?" You croak.

"Sluts don't get to come so easily." Wonwoo smirks, throwing a look your way before walking out of the storeroom. You slide down the wall, absolutely livid, the urge to punch something growing very intense.

Something like his face.

That goddamn infuriating man!

Maybe you should just get yourself off.

"And don't think about touching yourself without me. I'll know if you do and trust me, you don't wanna make me mad." His head pops back in as he opens the door to warn you before disappearing once again.

"Fuck!" You're screaming now. "Fuck you, Jeon Wonwoo!"

XIV.

Over time, you start to grow close to Wonwoo. Definitely closer than you'd expect to be with a person like him. It also doesn't help that you have a silly little crush on him and every little thing he does makes your heart flutter. Like the way he'd always put the helmet on you carefully before riding on his bike, brush your hair away from your face with soft fingers, and pull you closer to his body when you walk down a busy sidewalk.

Jeon Wonwoo was in no way boyfriend material but his little gestures, which he probably did thoughtlessly made you think he was the perfect man for you.

While things were going breezy with Wonwoo, a new problem seems to have appeared. Jacob Lee, a classmate of yours has been on your tail nonstop for the past few days, acting all friendly and touchy with you when in reality you've never spoken to him before, only seen him around the campus.

And speaking of the devil, he appears, just as you are finishing up your study session in the library one afternoon.

"_____!" His voice makes you sigh exasperatedly. "Hey! I was looking for you!"

You give him a fake smile and instead focus on packing your stuff, knowing Wonwoo will be here soon. He has asked you to stay overnight at his place for a class project but you doubt how much you'll be working on that project.

The thought of his hands all over you makes you embarrassingly excited.

"I sent you a friend request last night, didn't you see?"

Yes, and I'm not interested. You give me the creeps.

Which was the truth. You have heard a few rumors about Jacob, not good things for sure and the way he approaches you, invading your personal space like a bulldozer certainly makes you wary of him.

"Ah really? I'm not quite active these days. Projects and all, you know?" You try to avoid eye contact with him as he takes the seat right next to you, leaning much too close for your liking. "And...I don't really accept requests unless they're my close friends."

"Heyyy," he nudges your arm, a huge grin on his face. "How can we become close friends unless you accept my request?"

Oh god.

You sigh, internally rolling your eyes as you stand up and sling your bag over your shoulder. "You know, I'm in a hurry, actually. Wonwoo is waiting for me-"

"Is he your boyfriend?"

"What?" You blink, albeit stunned.

"Are you dating Wonwoo?" He asks, his tone sharp, as he stands up and steps closer to you, brows knotted in a frown.

Seriously, what is up with this guy?

"Why do you ask?" You question instead.

He rolls his eyes. Instead of answering you, he speaks, "He's a boring dude. If you really need a man you should let me—"

"Yes, she's dating me." Wonwoo interrupts all of a sudden. You spin around to find him standing behind you, a very annoyed look on his face as he glowers at Jacob. If looks could kill he'd be dead by now.

His hand wraps around your waist, tugging you next to his body and you can't help but swoon a little as you melt in his embrace. You rest your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent and sigh giddily.

The comfort and safety his arms provide are astounding.

"It doesn't really matter if you say I'm boring because she seems to find me interesting enough," Wonwoo says, his tone challenging, dark eyes focused on Jacob whose face now appears grim.

"Since we have established that she's mine," he emphasizes his words by tugging you even closer, "You should keep your hands to yourself and mind your business, hmm? Being nosy can get you hurt, you know."

Jacob's lips are pressed into a thin line as he glares at Wonwoo who ignores him and turns around, tugging you with him as you both walk out of the library.

As soon as you are outside, you step out of his arms and raise a brow at the man. "What was that?"

"What was what?"

"That? You were like...staking your claim or something."

"I was. You're mine." He says simply.

Heat blooms throughout your face. Butterflies run wild in your stomach.

Damn.

"Whatever," you try to play it cool by rolling your eyes and pushing past him. Wonwoo, however, grabs your wrist and pulls you into his arms and whispers in your ear.

"You don't seem to agree, little cherry. Let's go home so that I can show just how much you are mine." His knuckles trail over your jaw, then down your neck before grabbing it, a predatory glint in his eyes.

You can't stop the satisfied grin from appearing on your face as you scream on the inside.

XV.

"Hey, I'm really sorry about the last day." A voice says from behind you and you turn around to find Jacob standing rather awkwardly.

You are going through your notes in the library when you are interrupted.

Raising a brow of confusion, you blink at him.

Jacob scratches his head. "Uh...I overstepped that day, you know. You're obviously a couple and I was trying to overstep my boundaries. I'm really sorry about that."

Well, that's a development.

"It's alright." You give him a small smile. "And thank you for apologizing."

"It's all good if you've accepted my apology." He smiles. "Also, I was hoping you could do me a favor?"

"Sure?" You say, not quite sure.

"You see, I'm having a bit of a problem with the latest assignment. Could you help me with that, please? Just take a look at my draft?" He chuckles nervously, as if ashamed. "After all, the professor did say that you had the best research paper among all of us."

Ah.

"Yeah, sure I can help you with that."

"Great! Thanks a lot, ____. Could you perhaps come with me to my car? My notes are in there. Just take a quick look and I'll let you be on your way."

You nod as you pack your belongings and follow him to the parking lot behind the library. Once you two are in front of your car, Jacob holds the door open for you, motioning you to get inside. You raise a confused brow at him.

There is a shift in him as he suddenly produces a knife from his pocket and holds it against your stomach. He grits in your ear, "Now be a good girl and get in the car, ______. Try to do anything to attract any attention and ill fucking gut you."

"Jacob, please-''

"Get in the fucking car, _____. And lock the door once you are inside."

Shaking, you do as you are told and watch him get inside the driver's seat.

"Why are you doing this?" You whisper.

"Why do you think, cherry?" He spits. His words dump a bucket of ice cold water all over you as you come to the realization.

He knows. He fucking knows. He knows your secret.

"That's right, _____." The smirk on his face is cruel. "I randomly came across your channel one night. Of course, I didn't know it was you at first. But after a little bit of observing and putting things together, it wasn't hard to figure you out. And my suspicions were fully confirmed when your nerd of a boyfriend found your identity and started blackmailing you."

Oh my god.

A small, devastated gasp leaves your lips, making Jacob laugh. "Yeah. I saw you two that evening. I know everything, little cherry. All your dirty little secrets. But what I hate is that you let him have you, calling that dumb guy your boyfriend and whatnot, but you won't give me a chance? That's not fair, baby."

"You fucking stalker! You son of a-"

"Shut up!" He booms, holding the knife right in front of your eye. "You're going to shut the fuck up and let me have all the fun tonight, hmm? You're a slut, _____. Reading filthy things, showing yourself off on the internet and now you're acting like a prude in front of me? I can't tolerate that baby, I need a taste of you."

Oh god. You're going to throw up.

In a moment's decision, you try to attack him, reaching for his face and poking him in the eye while scratching his cheek. A struggle ensues while you try to writhe and kick out of his grasp but he's stronger, effectively holding you.

"Just go to sleep, little bitch. I'll take good care of you." He snickers, making your heart drop.

Oh no no no...

He smacks you in the back of the head twice with the butt of his knife, making your vision go blurry and your head spin. Your last thought is that you are doomed now.

XVI.

The back of your head is throbbing when you wake up. It takes a good few moments to get your brain and eyes to function and when you are somewhat coherent, you realize your wrists are tied together behind you, as you remain in a half laid position. Your whole body feels sore and taut as if you've been thrown around roughly.

"Finally, you're awake baby." The dreadful voice speaks. You tilt your head, despite the pain, to look at Jacob who is looming over you, smiling, a sick kind of excitement dancing in his eyes.

Your throat which was already parched, goes even drier.

"You're fucking sick." You croak, a jolt of pain going through your ribs as you try to move your body.

A slap lands on your cheek from nowhere, forcing you to fall on your side as you whine in pain.

"I told you to shut the fuck up!" He's yelling. "Do you know how hard it was to carry your body all the way here? I had to put you in the trunk, for fucks sake!" He complains, making you roll your eyes. "It would all have been fine if you'd just shut up and complied with me!"

He then grabs you by your hair, forcing you to turn your head and look at him. "I had to wait for the last hour for you to gain consciousness, baby. Despite my thoughts, I just couldn't get hard when you were lying still."

He says those words with a mock pout as if that's the most unfortunate thing in the world and your blood boils. "Fuck you, dickhead. I doubt your thing gets hard at all."

That earns you another slap, and another, followed by a lot of screaming and cursing from him.

You tune them out, trying to conjure a way out of this hell. The first person you think of is Wonwoo and your heart starts to ache. His classes should be done by now. Is he looking for you? Is he worried? Given his possessiveness, he definitely should be looking for you by now.

You only wish you had your phone somewhere nearby.

You look around the place, trying to spot anything that may distract this sicko and aid you with your escape. Unfortunately, this feels like an abandoned building and the only thing lying around are pieces of wood, splinters and a few metal rods. Which would serve as a good weapon, only if your hands were untied.

An idea forms in your head.

"I need to pee." You grunt, making Jacob raise a brow.

"Well then, do it." He shrugs before smiling. "You'll need to take your pants off anyway for what I'm about to do to you. Want me to help you with them, baby?"

So that definitely backfired.

Jacob approaches you, hands reaching for the button on your jeans as you writhe in protest, trying to crawl away from him. Your sore ribs protest heavily but you struggle against his grip, which only tightens the harder you protest.

You are so fucked.

"The more you fight, the harder I get, baby." He snickers in your ears, making you want to throw up.

Jacob manages to unbutton your jeans and as he is pulling down your zipper, you land a kick on his shin, making him fall on his ass with a grunt. His eyes flash dangerously at you.

"Maybe I should tie your legs too, huh? Just let me take these jeans off."

"Get your hands off of her. Right. Now." There's a sudden voice.

You both turn your head to find Wonwoo, to your utter relief, standing there, a menacing look on his face as his eyes bore into Jacob.

"Let her go." His voice is quiet.

To others, it may sound flat but you know Wonwoo and you know the look in his eyes very well. A shiver rolls down your spine and you try once again to loosen the ropes tying your wrists. If you aren't free soon, things are gonna get messy.

"The big bad boyfriend is here to save the day, no?" Jacob scoffs, swaying the knife around in his hand. "Whatcha gonna do, boyfriend?"

"You wouldn't wanna know." Wonwoo gives him a cold smile that gives even you, goosebumps. You try to mediate the situation. "Jacob, please, listen to me. This doesn't have to be like this. Just let me go and we can pretend this never happened."

"Shut up, you whore! I'm getting a taste of you today and I don't care whether it's next to your boyfriend's rotting corpse!" He screeches, pointing the knife at you.

Mentally, you shake your head.

This really isn't gonna end well.

A grunt echo through the air and it takes a few seconds for your fuzzy brain to realize that Wonwoo has punched Jacob. The latter tumbles onto the floor, groaning loudly, "You fucking asshole! You broke my nose!"

Wonwoo's face remains blank as he repeatedly keeps kicking Jacob's torso, not even letting him get up. When he's gasping for air, he steps back to take a good look at him before walking to the side and picking up a metal rod.

In the meantime, Jacob manages to stand up on wobbly legs and his eyes widen when he sees Wonwoo pick up the weapon. "You fucking psychopath. You really wanna die today, huh?" He scoffs before charging toward Wonwoo, the knife in his hand aiming for his face. Wonwoo dodges it by leaning back and just as Jacob is passing by him, he grabs his other arm, twisting it roughly before clutching the hand holding the knife.

Jacob yells in pain but doesn't back down and there is a struggle as they both try to overpower each other. Amidst that, the knife in Jacob's hand manages to cut a thin line on Wonwoo's cheek, making him release Jacob and take a few steps back.

Jacob chuckles, his smile looking exceptionally evil as blood runs down his nose and coats his teeth. "I'm gonna have so much fun carving up your pretty face, nerd."

Wonwoo watches him with calculative eyes, a wry, slight smirk on his face as he tilts his head on both sides, popping the veins in his neck.

You watch with bated breath, knowing it's gonna get ugly and it does as Wonwoo charges for Jacob, hitting his head in the first strike with the metal bar. Jacob falls to his knees, cupping the side of his head as a gush of blood flows out. Before he can stand back up, Wonwoo hits him again and again and again, three more times on his head before his body slumps onto the ground, passed out.

But that doesn't make Wonwoo stop as he continues with two more hits and you start yelling. "Wonwoo, stop! Stop it! You're gonna kill him!"

He stops and his eyes meet yours. They are absolutely cold and empty, laced with an expression of that's-what-I-was-about-to-do and for a moment you think that he's gonna kill him right in front of you but he doesn't.

Surprising you, he drops the bar on the ground with a loud echo before calmly walking towards you and kneeling down to untie your wrists. You pant heavily, relieved and grateful as your eyes become teary when one of his hand cups your cheek tenderly, his eyes trained on the cut on your lips and the bruise on your cheek.

And to think that this man was being so violent seconds ago.

"Does it hurt badly?" He asks, eyes narrowing on your bruises. You immediately shake your head, not trusting your voice to speak.

You croak, "How did you find me?"

He scoffs. "Little cherry, you should have figured out by now how possessive I am of you." He tilts his head, giving you an isn't-that-obvious look. Yet, you're confused.

"You...you didn't actually put a—"

"Exactly," he smiles, almost proud. "I downloaded a tracker on your phone."

Holy shit. There's a lot to unpack but for now, you are totally grateful. So you just nod and clutch his arms tightly.

Your heart thumps loudly as the man wraps an arm around your waist, supporting you to stand up. The bruises on your body make it hard to do so but you manage with his help and gently he guides you out of the warehouse, picking up your scattered items lying in a corner and putting them in your bag before moving past Jacob's still body.

You turn your head back to observe if he's breathing and you notice the slow rise and fall of his chest, making you sigh in relief.

Wonwoo walks you both out of the compound before coming to a stop underneath a large banyan tree, right where he parked his bike.

"Call a taxi." He says as he hands you your bag. "Go to a hospital. I'll be there soon."

Your heart falls.

"W-what? W-where are you going?" You croak, hands immediately clutching the sleeves of his jacket. His hands gently hold you by the arm, a stark contrast to the look on his face, malicious, ruthless. "You don't leave loose ends, baby."

You almost choke on your saliva.

"Wha-what? No! You-"

His lips press against yours, effectively silencing you. One of his hand cups your cheek while the other laces around your waist, pulling your body next to his. Blindly you follow his lead, wrapping your arms around his neck as your tongue intertwines with his into a passionate kiss. It tastes like temptation, lust and a little bit metallic— from the blood on your lips and even though in the back of your mind you know how wrong this is, it feels like the most right thing of all time.

A while later Wonwoo pulls back as the haze of lust disappears from his eyes, replaced with seriousness.

"Do as you're told, ____. This isn't a request."

It isn't. It's a command.

Yet, as he turns around to head back into the warehouse, you cannot bring yourself to call a taxi. But you also cannot muster up to follow him back inside and watch him finish the job.

Blissful ignorance, as they like to call it.

Besides, there is no crime if there is no witness.

You try to tell yourself that you're staying in case Jacob manages to run away or worse, hurt Wonwoo or in case somebody comes around here.

So you make yourself comfortable underneath the tree and take a seat, even though your sore body protests in pain.

Seconds turn to minutes as they fly by and just like that half an hour is gone. The sky is now overcast with thick clouds, indicating an impending downpour that makes you worry.

There is no sign of Wonwoo yet.

When the first few drops of rain hit the ground, you manage to get yourself up after a little struggle and despite your ribs protesting, you start to take small steps towards the building.

Something must have gone wrong.

But you don't have to go too far because you see a tall figure approaching you from the other end and you realize it's Wonwoo. Your breath stutters as you stay still in your spot, waiting for him to take notice of you and come to you. He seems to be walking while in deep thought as his focus remains on the ground so you call for him.

"Wonwoo!"

His head snaps up as he regards you with wide eyes, standing still for a moment. Then he's running towards you, stepping on little puddles along the way.

"What are you still doing here!" His tone is sharp but you ignore it. Instead, your eyes scan his body for any injuries. He seems to appear fine— disheveled really, but still fine. There is a new cut on his forehead and there are specks of blood all over his face, neck and hands, especially his hands which are completely wet and coated in crimson.

You highly doubt it's his own blood. Still, your hands reach out for him and you find yourself asking, "Are you okay?"

Wonwoo glares at you. "You should have gone to a hospital by now, ____. You're hurt." You shake your head and instead cup his cheek, thumb brushing away the little specks of blood that are yet to wash away despite the pouring rain.

His eyes visibly soften as he sighs and shrugs off his jacket and puts it over your shoulders.

"You're gonna catch a cold." He whispers as his arms wrap around your shoulders, pulling your body next to him.

"J-Jacob?" You whisper.

His eyes go empty for a few seconds before he gives you a small, evil smile, "I took care of him."

Your heart falls and you swallow, the gravity of the situation dawning on you.

"B-but the body-"

"Lot of wolves in that forest.'' He says, indicating the woods right behind the building. ''They'll finish the body."

He smirks, giving you a look. "I believe Jacob came here drunk and passed out and the wolves took him." He pins you down with a look that makes you shudder.

You're now an accomplice to murder.

Gripping your chin with his thumb and index finger, he tilts your head up. "Hey. Nobody will know...unless you tell them."

That's right. Nobody will know.

With a jerky nod, your eyes meet his and even though your limbs are sore, you lean on your tippy toes and pull his lips onto yours by cupping his cheeks. His lips taste like rain and blood, full of danger but oh so tempting. Your tongues dance in a haze of fiery lust and passion and by the time you two separate, you're a little dizzy.

You should really get to the hospital.

"I won't tell anyone," you whisper, stroking the nape of his neck.

"Because I have nothing to tell. Jacob got eaten by the wolves. It was just an accident, after all." You state, surprised at how calm you are.

A grin spreads across Wonwoo's face, evil, satisfied and proud. You can't also help but smile a little as he captures your lips for a quick kiss before murmuring, "You're perfect, you know that little cherry?"

You swoon. "Maybe you can remind me when we are home. After taking a trip to the hospital, of course."

"Let's go." He holds out his hand and you take it as you both walk to his bike. Blood still stains his fingertips but you don't care as they transfer on your hands too. Instead, you let him slowly guide you away from the building, from that sick asshole who isn't breathing anymore, thankfully.

When you look down your hands entangled with his, a sense of odd comfort settles over you.

Sure, this man is completely unhinged and dangerous but he's also perfect.

Perfect for you.

You're both a little unhinged and that's fine.

What matters is that you are safe now. With him.

Smiling in contentment, you bring your intertwined hands up to your lips and press a kiss on his bruised knuckles.

You are bloody, yet safe.

a/n: and hence, I chose the name Bloodily Safe! I know it isn't that good but istg I couldn't think of anything else😭. this is, undoubtedly, the darkest fic I've written yet and somewhere in the middle I started questioning whether it'd be a good idea to release this. but the urge to share psycho Wonwoo with y'all won in the end lol. I blame pledis for this, we need an actor Wonwoo in a villain role immediately!!! I've left it as an open ending so I'm here to announce that yes, I am planning on writing another part of this, something like an extended epilogue where we focus more on Wonwoo. their feelings for each other also remain vague here and I've kept it so purposefully. it's up to each of your own interpretation. if you'd like to hear mine, do send an ask. I'm all ready to analyze and discuss our fav psycho wonwoo. also, I've yet to proofread this thoroughly so there might be some errors. that's it from me for now, thank you for taking the time to read this! have a lovely day!

taglist: @exocommunicado-03 @becauseiloveyunho @seyoungparkk @shuabby1994 @reol-0 @therewillalwaysbearainbow @sdoulc @nadiaarzu @dinosolecito @sweetiepiezz @vernonmabae @jejuboo-s @fairy-jojo @babystarcandykookie @kawaiimusiccollection @read2lips @yunhokami @knife-scream @just-here-to-read-01 @unwanted-15 @bldelaine @sysymei @joonsytip @freakinthesheesh @moonfloweronmars @simpinghrs @unicxrnblood @manamiyx @tara-drabbles

#seventeen #seventeen smut #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo smut #kpop smut #svt imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen angst

[kianely]

OFF THE DASHBOARD

i. FEATURING — Leon Kennedy x GN!Reader

ii. SYNOPSIS — Relentless stacks of paperwork and arrests during patrols have Leon busy all the time. It doesn’t help that you’re out of town for some work business. Feeling deprived of your touch, he hastily calls you while in his car, needing to hear your voice.

iii. CONTENT WARNINGS — 18+ content (MDNI) Sub!Leon, masturbation, phone sex, dirty talk, spit for lubrication, praise with tiny hints of condescending degradation (leon receiving) Focused mostly on Leon overall. Please check my DNI before interacting. Lowkey rushed, my bad LMAOO

Your boyfriend was a needy and pitiful mess. He stationed his car in an empty parking lot as soon as he got off his shift at the department. He had his lights turned off. He was ringing your phone, already having you on speaker in case you picked up. A bold move, but he never invested in a pair of earphones so it would have to do.

The slacks of his uniform were painfully tight, he needed you. Couldn’t get off on his own, he was fucking addicted to you. He used to be able to get off in just minutes by the simple thought of you. But he was getting greedy, you spoiled him rotten. He needed to feel you, or at least hear your voice coax him into an orgasm.

“C’mon,” he muttered out, running a hand through his messy hair out of desperation. His phone was beeping, the picture he had for your saved contact showing on his phone and illuminating his car a bit.

It was wishful thinking. It was midnight already, there’s no way you would–

“Hello?”

The greeting alone sent blood rushing to his cock, his mind was spinning at the sound of the voice he had been craving to hear the entire long and exhausting work day. His tongue ran across his lips, trying to make up for how dry his throat felt.

“Oh, thank god.” He let out an audible sigh of relief, one you could clearly hear over the phone. “I’m so sorry for calling so late and without any notice, it’s just…”

He chewed on his bottom lip nervously, not knowing how to continue his sentence. He couldn’t just straight up tell you that he had been fantasizing about you jerking him off for hours on end, right? The thought of your hands taking his uniform off at a tantalizing pace before finally wrapping your hand around his cock—it sounded so good. Or even the manner in which you’d teasingly run your fingers across his abdomen before tracing over the lines of his v-line, he was always so weak under your touch.

“It’s okay, I was awake catching up on a show anyway. You’ve been so busy lately and I miss you like crazy, I’m glad you called.” Your voice came through and he wanted to melt into a puddle in his car seat.

“I miss you too, so much. Listen—I’m kind of in a predicament right now,” he eventually managed to say with a breathless tone of voice, placing his hand on the bulge straining against his slacks, rubbing the area lightly and letting out a soft whimper. He hoped you’d get the picture, without having to vulgarly explain himself.

A beat, you registered the sound of Leon’s voice. He was horny, you could tell just by the undertone of need that seeped from his words. Usually he was more subtle, not so blatantly whimpering during a call. That was kinda hot though, your usually composed boyfriend was in need of release.

“Baby. Are you hard right now?”

The term of endearment made Leon’s heart quicken, there was something about the way you said it that made heat blossom across his cheeks. “Guilty.”

You could be cruel sometimes, but not today. Not when you hadn’t touched Leon in nearly three weeks because of conflicting schedules.

“Take your belt off,” your voice was gentle but Leon knew you were instructing him. “And let me hear it, too. Wanna know you’re listening to me.”

There was something about you bossing him around that was so incredibly sexy, he momentarily set his phone down on one of his thighs so you could hear the clanking of metal as he fumbled to take off his belt and gear. It took him longer than usual, and the adrenaline pumping through him made him hear his own pulse in his ears.

“Okay,” fuck, his voice was quivering and his belt was discarded off onto the passenger seat. “What now?”

“Mm,” you thought about it for a moment, just to tease him. Eventually, you settled on a response. “Stroke yourself over your boxers, and tell me what that pretty mind of yours was thinking about all day.”

He was a good boy, unzipping his pants and slipping his right hand underneath—finding the shape of his cock and gliding his hand up and down. The fabric of his boxers was already wet with his precum, it was sticking almost uncomfortably to him. His free hand found purchase on the edge of his car seat, short nails digging into the leather of it.

“I, uh.” He was stammering, mind struggling to formulate a coherent thought. You did this on purpose, making him talk even when he was struggling.

“C’mon sweetheart, you can do better than that. Don’t tell me you went all dumb just by touching yourself for a single second.”

Those taunts, fuck, that condescending tone you took. The windows of his car were undoubtedly going to fog up with all the ragged breaths he was taking. “Was thinking about your hand on my cock, and that thing you do with your thumb—like…oh fuck, when you rub the tip with it.”

A babbling mess, that’s what he was. “T–Thought about you spitting on my cock, and the way you look at me while you do. Want you. Need you.”

“Atta boy,” your praise made him gasp—the words shooting straight down the gutter. “Keep going, you sound so fucking pretty.”

He was almost drooling with the way his jaw was slackened, his lips feeling dry with each intake of breath through his mouth. Only you were given the heavenly experience of hearing all his little sounds, the hiccup of his breath and broken sobs.

“Can I touch myself now, please?” His request was quiet, spoken in a bashful manner.

You laughed at his question, wanting to play with him a little. “What do you mean? You are touching yourself.”

“Yeah but…” he let out a whine, beginning to feel frustrated. So damn impatient, the call had only been running for a few minutes and he was already being pouty. “Like, without my boxers. That’s what I meant. Please? I don’t know how much longer I can go.”

“So dirty. Where are you right now, Leon?”

He wanted to growl at you, how could you be asking such an unnecessary question in the middle of this? Were you trying to torture him? You didn’t even answer his oh so nicely worded request.

“Does it matter?” There was a little bit of frustration in his voice. Could he take his boxers off or not? “Parking lot.”

“Ah, right. So you’re asking me if you can take your boxers off in a public parking lot and touch yourself, then? You’re a cop, aren’t you? Isn’t that public indecency?”

“Babe.” His voice was so whiny, fingers getting ready to reach under his boxers. “Please. Just let me, there’s no one around, promise.” He craved your permission, even if he didn’t necessarily need it to touch himself.

You were so going to give him shit over this the next time the two of you hung out in person. “So impatient, fine, go ahead.”

His boxers were hastily shoved further down as soon as he got the green light, his fingers wrapping around his neglected cock. Tears brimmed at his eyes at the relief that flooded his senses, letting out a hiss as he stroked himself.

He imagined his hand was yours, mimicking the way you would touch him because he had it all memorized. “Oh god,” his eyes fluttered shut as his head tilted back towards the headrest—hips bucking up into his own hand. “Thank you, thank you, thank you…”

“That’s it, keep going.” Hearing your boyfriend in such a messy state was getting to you too, your own hand snaking down your figure to the place that ached. “Spit on it.”

“What?” The command made him lose focus, his mind spinning with each passing second, “oh, wait, okay. Fuck, that’s hot.”

It was an easy task for him, saliva having already gathered in his mouth from the way he had been too focused on all the pleasure to even swallow. He let his spit land on the tip, watching as it ran it’s way down to the base.

With a high-pitched moan, he kept on going—a little faster than before. He was losing it, his rhythm progressively getting more sloppy as his stomach got tighter and tighter.

He really should’ve turned his ignition on so he could have some AC in his damn car, his uniform was going to be damp with sweat after this. Whatever, he owned a washing machine.

He could hear your encouragement and dirty talk, but he was too out of it to really pay attention. It didn’t matter, all he needed to know was that you were on the other line of the call, that’s the only way he could come in this situation.

“Not gonna last much longer,” he rasped out, giving the base of his cock some firm squeezes—the same motion you did to him whenever you gave him a handjob.

“I know,” you truly did, you could tell by the way he hadn’t responded to any of your praising comments, instead only receiving a mixture of heavy and uneven breathing as a response. “You can do it, sweetheart. Make a mess all over yourself.”

“Mm,” he heard that praise though, his knees felt like jelly. His hand was starting to cramp up but that was the last thing on his mind.

“Please,” he had no clue what he was begging for, the tears that glazed over his eyes started to spill. He hated that it wasn’t enough. Yeah, he was about to come, but his hand made only a decent substitute for yours.

“Gonna come, gonna come,” he repeated the phrase over and over again until his voice nearly gave out, “fuck, gonna—“

His eyebrows were knit together prettily, breathing momentarily paused as he gave some final tugs before his eyes rolled back, his hearing failing on him as all the noises turned to static.

He let out a silent moan, stripes of white landing onto the vest of his uniform. He inhaled and exhaled shuddering breaths as his body shook, slumping against his seat. His body felt limp and weak, hand cramping up from the way he had been going at it. “Oh my god…”

You gave him a couple moments to recuperate himself, “feeling good?”

“Better than good. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t picked up my call,” all the sexual tension of the day was finally exhausted from him, lazy smile forming on his face as he tried to catch his breath—he could hear you laughing over the phone.

“Gotten blue balls or something. Sooo, are you going to write yourself up now for public indecency?”

“You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?”

“Nope.”

“Yeah, I figured.”

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x gn!reader #leon kennedy smut #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #re2 smut #re2 x reader #my first post was supposed to be fluff but oh well

[love-belle]

you're the best in my life and i lost you !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which they truly are the best in each other's lives but they lost them.

or

for when you finally get to know that maybe it is unrequited. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // charles leclerc x fem!reader

prequel - i'd never walk cornelia street sign ⋆·˚ ༘ *

warnings - language

author's note - finally here!!!!! i REALLLLLLY hope u like it !!! i have so much planned for this week and i hope i can show u all of it soon !!! thank u so much for reading i love you <3

tagged - @willowpains @lexxlouuu @topaz125 @leclercloml @sophiaasf @slut4peterparker @crlsummer @ananyasr1bughead @official-chicken-little @jspitwall @lovely-blackinnon

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by lewishamilton, carmenmmundt, lilymhe and 3,927,588 others

yourusername my sophomore album "good riddance" is finally here and i'm soooo excited for u all to hear little pieces of my heart sewn together. every single syllable is what i feel and what i have been feeling. we all have that one person that we absolutely refuse to talk about so just like that, i ended up writing a whole album instead. thank you sooo much for supporting me, i love you all forever. and to the inspiration behind this, thank you. you were good to me. you're the best i've ever had.

19,628 comments

username SCREECHING WHAT THE FUCK

username oh my god

username now im half of myself here without you?????? you're the best in my life and i lost you????? and we had no control when it fell through???? it was one sided hate how i hurt you?????

-> username WHERE DO WE GO NOW

username i 😭 know 😭 i 😭 know 😭 better 😭 you're 😭 no 😭 guarantee 😭

username I ALMOST LOST IT I'LL HEAL EVENTUALLY BUT FASTER WHEN UR NEXT TO ME NEXT TO ME

-> username IM CODEPENDENT BUT TRYING HARD NOT TO BE IM BETTER WHEN UR NEXT TO ME

username why the FUCK aren't people talking about the blue and how it's literally her and charles???

-> username "you came out of the blue like that i never could've seen you coming i think you're everything i wanted" NAHHH FRRRRR

username there was absolutely NO NEED to break my heart like this

username charles is probably tearing up rn likeeee

-> username bro's hiding in a corner bc i KNOW lily is out for blood today

danielricciardo cool album

-> yourusername thank u i wrote it myself!!!!!!

-> username as if daniel's stories aren't js him crying and singing along the whole album 😭😭😭

username "i know it won't work" had NO business ruining me like that when i know damn well i haven't even held hands with someone

username THE VOICE MESSAGE IN THE INTERLUDE OMGKMGKMGKGSJJAJS

-> username i bet you my first born that it's CHARLES

-> username lost it when it was cut from charles' message (yes it was charles and yes it broke my heart) to y/n's like THERE WAS NO NEED TO HURT ME LIKE THAT

username i wish for pain and im glad we only live once bc this woman WILL find more creative ways to hurt us with her amazing songwriting and vocal skills

lilymhe LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVEEEEE

-> yourusername I LOVE YOUUUUU

lilymhe SO SO SO GOOD AHHHSJSJSJS

-> yourusername STOP TYSM IM GONNA CRY

lilymhe the only album to ever exist btw

-> yourusername ur the 1 for me ❤️

username still not over two people like what do u MEAN "hate how we touched just to push things aside. when u take me for granted i make it alright"

username she's never attaining peace for releasing this and ruining my nights

username OH I KNOW SPIRALLING IS MISERABLE I SHOULD PROBABLY GO BACK HOME WHY DOES THAT FEEL DIFFICULT DIFFICULT

carmenmmundt still crying

-> yourusername same 😭😭😭

carmenmmundt george wants to comment but he can't see through his tears

-> yourusername PLEASE OMG

username "and to the inspiration behind this, thank you. you were good to me. you're the best i've ever had." DO U WANT ME TO CRY

username charles i am in ur walls

username i will never understand how she wrote "it's nice to have a friend" for charles and now she wrote "two people" like how did THAT transition happen

-> username the worst transition ever btw

landonorris thid is si good anf im cryjng so harf whay thr fucj

-> yourusername lando deep breaths

-> landonorris DINT TELL MR TI TAKR DEEP BRESTGS I SWRAR

-> yourusername wow

-> username i identify so much with lando it's INSANE

username somewhere in monaco pascale leclerc is listening to this album and it's a good day ❤️

-> username bet u literally my bank account the entire leclerc household is BLASTING this

carla.brocker words cannot explain how proud i am 🩷🩷🩷 i love you so much big sis

-> yourusername carlaaaaa 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼 u own my heart i LOVEEEE you

-> username this made me tear up whatcthebfuck

username no bc i KNOW charles heard "will u cry" and CRIED like that man is not strong enough to bear that

-> username no bc "u don't move me???? i see through u????? i don't follow???? i don't want to?????"

-> username that man is in SHAMBLES about this rn

username GOOD RIDDANCE TOUR WHEN

username this will be my personality for years to come

lorenzotl proud of you y/n/n 🤍

-> yourusername i love u charlotte's bf thank u

username cannot breathe bc "it's almost like you like to let me down" and "i hate the fact that i miss u around"

≡;- ꒰ °twitter꒱

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by yourusername, landonorris, danielricciardo and 2,672,882 others

charles_leclerc so proud of you. seeing you live your dream is the best feeling ever and i hope you get to see the world just like we talked about. things aren't the same but my support for you will always be unwavering. this is what you were made for and i couldn't be more happy 🤍

tagged yourusername

16,628 comments

username what the actual fuck

username WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK

username stfu this isn't DONE like u CAN'T do this

username "things aren't the same but my support for you will always be unwavering" WHAT IF I CRY

username so u mean to tell me that he went to her show after MONTHS even when they're not together just to support her???? bc he wants her to see the world even if things aren't the same????? what the fuck

username i did NOT need this at 7am in the morning come back later

username babe wake up new y/ncharles lore js dropped

danielricciardo amazing show!! aren't you glad i dragged you there?

-> charles_leclerc i literally booked the tickets myself what are you on about?

-> danielricciardo let me have this one mate

username last night was UNREAL bc wdym y/n's ex fiancé was there and wdym she sang full machine and the blue for him and wdym he came on stage and spoke so fondly about her and WDYM MAX VERSTAPPEN AND LANDO NORRIS THREW WATER AT THE AUDIENCE JS FOR THE HELL OF IT

username this is my roman empire

username i know he was dying inside like

username imagine fumbling a bad bitch like y/n couldn't be me LMFAOOOO

username y'all brutal in the comments let my man grovel in peace

landonorris nice caption. now say i love you.

-> charles_leclerc i love you lando

-> landonorris not to ME to HER (i love you too 😘😘😘🥰🥰🥰😍😍😍)

-> charles_leclerc oh (no)

username SCREAMING DANIEL SNATCHING Y/N'S MIC FROM HER AND SINGING HIS FAV SONG FROM THE ALBUM

-> username THEY'RE SO UNSERIOUS 😭😭😭

username this caption will haunt me in my dreams

username is it js me or did her voice crack when she said "now i know it's unrequited"

-> username NO BC I FR THOUGHT THAT IT WAS JS ME

-> username she genuinely looked on the verge of tears throughout "405" like

-> username imagine being y/n and singing the most heartbreaking song ever about ur ex IN FRONT OF UR EX

username no bc this feels like a confirmation that they'll never be together guys why does this feel so final i want my parents back.

username SCREAMING WHATHEBRCUKXKSKA

carlossainz55 surreal night. loved seeing you lose your cool every time she was nearing your side of the stage

-> charles_leclerc just because we can speak doesn't mean we should

username the camera switching from y/n to charles when she sang "i know it won't work" was so me like the camera person is messy js like me fr

username genuinely in ruins on my bedroom floor rn y/ncharles nation we LOST

username no bc i CANNOT enter their friendship era ever again after seeing what i have seen for the past few years

-> username fr like people don't GET IT!!!! they were supposed to get MARRIED

username forever crying bc of them 💔💔💔

yourusername forever grateful for u!!!! thank u so much 🫶🏼

*liked by charles_leclerc*

yourusername u deserve the world

*liked by charles_leclerc*

username charles replying to everyone but y/n on the post HE made for HER makes me so idk like it's weird

username no bc why do i have the feeling that y/n and charles are NOT good and this is js something done for "damage control" or wtv

username im.

#f1 x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 imagines #social media au #fake instagram imagines #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc instagram au

[jakeyt]

Covet: Chapter 6

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Covet Summary:

Life was good. No, life was great. 

Was. 

Until.

Jake Kiszka crashed into the picture.

You welcomed him into your life—your home. 

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

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

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

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

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

Covet Masterlist

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

i hope you enjoyyyy ;)

-🌼🌼🌼-

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

Jake.

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

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

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

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

Were you just not worth it to him anymore?

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

It. Didn’t. Matter. He didn’t matter.

Really.

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

Because you didn’t. 

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

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

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

“That’s what you do to me.” 

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

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

God.

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

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

-🌼🌼🌼-

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

It was humiliating to be a try hard.

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

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

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

“I really want you there.”

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

Things were just different than before. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

All you wanted was to understand what he was feeling. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

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

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

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

You wanted to support your friends. Support Josh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-🌼🌼🌼-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Great job tonight. I’m so prou—.”

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

You blinked once. What? “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

You just knew you had to reassure Josh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

All you could do was nod. You didn’t know what more to say to cover your ass. 

You cleared your throat, signaling you were ready for a change of topic. “Enough about me. How are you feeling about all of these amazing shows, rockstar?”

He grinned wide, letting his worries go as a drink landed in front of him. 

And in no time, things were like they’d always been. 

Just you and Josh, not a lingering thought for Jake’s moods as you let yourself listen to his twin’s many thoughts and feelings of this new life of his.

You just had to try your best to ignore the way your heart leapt in your chest at any mention of Jake’s name in a story.

-🌼🌼🌼-

Jake’s POV

I wasn’t prepared for the sight of her as I walked out onto the back area of the establishment. 

And fuck it all, if she wasn’t the first thing my eyes found in that slightly crowded space. It would be impossible for her not to be—she was most definitely the most gorgeous woman I’d ever seen. 

But my heart immediately dropped when it registered that she was holding Josh’s hand, talking animatedly with him. It would be stupid for me to assume she’d come for anyone else but him. 

I had thought for sure that she’d been interested—wanted me—that night at Baby’s All Right. She’d said so much the night before that —her being so open with me at our home, right before we’d kissed for the first time in the hallway. 

Then, that night at Baby’s. . .I’d been so close to her, feeling her swollen pussy, still wet from my mouth, on the head of my cock. The way her body had thrummed around me. . .making my body need more. 

But just before I was inside of her, she’d heard my brother and her mind had gone immediately to him. Only caring what he thought. 

I didn’t know what to think about what they had between them. It was very possible that they were just friends—best friends. I knew that was likely the case. 

(And if I were thinking reasonably—it was definitely the case from how Josh talked about her sister.)

But my ways of reasonable thinking had been shot to shit these days. 

I’d been burned by assuming something similar in the past. The whole “just friends” thing was a cover I wasn't too fond of. Thanks to the woman I’d loved in the past, my trust was shot and I had become a primarily “glass half empty” thinker. My past had bit me in the fuckin’ ass. 

But y/n—she made me feel electric again—full of life. She was the most beautiful symbol of a fresh start. A fresh start I’d been craving—a feeling I’d been chasing for years. 

I truly hadn’t felt so full of possibility since I was 16. Even when we’d bicker, I felt this glimmer of hope for my life. . . She was a natural light. 

I just wanted her so bad, going dizzy at the sight of her . . . And that was a feeling I hadn’t ever felt with any other woman. My brain was almost always fuzzy when she was near. 

She was absolutely breathtaking, every movement she made that had her hair flowing in slow motion around her head, the way her eyes hooded when it was just the two of us. . . but even better, the way her eyes shined, so bright, all the time. She was positively heaven sent. 

And I’d be an idiot to think she’d want me more than my brother—who she’d known for years, who she was instantly drawn to at all times. They had natural chemistry. Anyone with two eyes could see it. 

She deserved a light that matched her own. Could I capture that light? Yes, I knew I could. But I’d been so terrible to her from the get-go; I wouldn’t blame her gravitating towards Josh—feeling safer with him. 

Like he always said, he was the sun, and I was the moon. I naturally came with darkness. I’d made it clear enough by acting like an asshole for the first portion of my time living with her. 

People who knew me knew I was notoriously terrible at reacting to hurt. I didn’t naturally know how to handle my emotions like Josh was practically born knowing to do. 

And the moment I laid eyes on her that first night at the apartment—when she’d opened the door. . .her hair falling against her sweet face, her eyes opening to show me the most beautiful color I’d ever seen. I knew then that I was a goner. 

But it’d seemed to be terrible timing at that instant. Feeling so drawn to her—it was coming right after I’d had the biggest life change. My heart was hurting—not necessarily broken, just . . . lost.

And I didn’t want her to be involved in the hopeless sea I’d been drowning in since my past troubles had come crashing down around me. 

Though, when I’d first seen her, standing there, the evening sun hitting her stunning face in her doorway— I felt like all of the pirates I loved to study. I’d found a hidden treasure I couldn’t even imagine could be so beautiful— just around the bend for so long, finally in my grasp. 

But I hadn’t known her. I hadn’t even met her. She was a treasure that wasn't mine to enjoy.

And I truly needed to heal, without bringing someone else down with me. I was scared of all I was feeling, and I only knew to react with bluntness, rudeness, irritation at every fucking turn. I’d even brought girls to bed to try to get her the fuck out of my mind. 

But it never happened. She was persistently there, in my everyday routine, in the eyes of the girls I'd mindlessly fuck. She'd sealed a sweet spot in my brain. 

But I’d still kept up with the douchebag act.

It was so unfair.

She’d tried so hard to be friendly, and I never greeted it well. I hadn’t known what to make of it all. That first night, Josh had said we were the same. Though, as he’d said this, I’d been watching her—so peaceful and beautiful, deep in a surely dreamful sleep. 

It’d instantly made my stomach dip when he said it. . . I knew well enough that she couldn’t be the same as me. 

But she was the same as Josh—pure, unadulterated bright, yellow sunshine. She was the sun on a spring day, flowers blooming and the grasses so green. Not a cloud in sight. 

But I was the cloud in her flawless sky. I’d been reminded of that when she’d stopped us at Baby's, saying she didn’t want Josh to know. It seemed she didn’t want to take a chance on people knowing we’d been so close.

I could only assume she didn’t want that darkness in her life, and I didn’t blame her. 

So I’d separated myself from her.

After that night, when Josh had told me of her being at our other gigs in June, I’d brushed it off. I knew why she was there—for Josh. I hadn’t even tried to seek her out because I knew that wasn’t what she wanted. She didn’t want me near her. Didn’t want people to know how close we had been. 

How well her body shaped to mine in secret— and it was just that: a secret she wanted kept. 

Especially wanted it kept from Josh. To him, she wanted us to be strictly roommates. So that’s what I’d decided I’d be for her. 

I’d wanted to ask her to come to shows after our little stint, but I fought the urge every time it came on. I wanted her there, I fed off of her energy—she made me play better. But, I didn’t want to rub her the wrong way after she’d put her foot down in the bathroom. I didn’t want to come off too strong. 

I’d also given my best attempt to not let my feelings show in the past weeks. It had been so hard anytime I’d meet her beautiful eyes. Her eyes that, over the past week, had seemed to turn from something hopeful when she looked my way to what could only be called disdain —disdain for me.

I had been an asshole, and she was better than that . . . 

But, still, all I wanted was her. I wanted to take back everything I’d said or done out of hurt, due to not knowing how to handle my mess of feelings. 

I wished I could go back to day one and make things different. I wished I could go back in time to stop myself from becoming a slab of stone to cope with my feelings. If I would have just been myself. . . Maybe I’d have her now— ever-endearing and enrapturing.

Fuck. And as I watched her tousle Josh’s hair, I just wanted to feel her fingers in mine again. My heart twinged with jealousy at the action.

“Look who’s here!” 

Sam’s loud voice snapped me out of my reverie. I continued to watch her, her smile widened at Sam’s voice, looking in his direction, and away from Josh. Then, without warning, she looked over to me as I was still studying her face—the way her full lips stretched to show her beautiful beam. 

But as soon as she looked at me, her smile fell. And all I wanted in that moment was for her smile to get bigger when she saw me, just as it had when she saw Sam.

I just wanted her. 

I decided at that moment, I was going to bite the bullet. I could make one more move to be close to her again. And if there was one moment where she acted as if she didn’t want it, I’d back off. 

But right now? I couldn’t see that happening. Couldn't see her backing off. She didn’t pull her eyes from mine, and I never let my gaze fall from hers. She held me with her stare, and I held her with mine. 

It was just us.

And as I came up on her other side, opposite Josh, she never broke eye contact with me, turning from my twin. And even as Sam and Danny traveled behind me, she only looked at me. 

I watched her chest rise and fall, the swell of her breasts making my mouth run dry from where they peeked out at the makeshift tear at the top of her shirt. The sugary sweet smell of her perfume made all of my senses lurch forward, wanting to take her—all of her— right at that moment.  

I was close enough to see the shine from the Edison bulbs around us, reflecting in her irises. 

Daniel and Sam came up to give her hugs, honestly acting completely oblivious to what was transpiring between us. Josh was chatting it up with the bartender, asking if he heard us from out here. 

And finally, they all left to go play ping pong. They’d offered for us to go play, but she hadn’t even acknowledged them talking. I waved them off, and looked at them with a shake of my head. I felt her eyes continue to pore over me as she let me do the work to get them to leave. 

Then, y/n and I were in our own world, I placed my forearm on the bar, my body curving to be around hers of its own accord. She followed by turning her whole body to face mine. It felt natural as she leaned into where I stood. She wasn’t quite touching me, but she let her own body follow all of my movements. 

I couldn’t help but feel my chest puff as she let her body move with mine as I matched her, moving in time with her. I was the dull moth and she was the bright, alluring flame.

I wondered if it felt as seamless for her as it did for me, she sat her elbow on the bar, and leaned her hip against a stool. She went to sit on top of it, but she struggled with her footing, so I let my instincts take control and I helped her onto it. However I could help her, I wanted to. 

I also wanted nothing more than to touch her, so that seemed like the perfect opportunity to kill two birds with one stone. 

The gasp she released when I touched her, and lifted her the slightest bit to help her situate on the glittery plastic top of the stool, combined with the way her legs spread the slightest bit, her black jean shorts showing so much of her sweet, sun-kissed thighs—it made all of my blood rush through me and to a throbbing halt at the head of my cock.

I wanted to cross my legs to make sure it wouldn’t show what she was doing to me. But she was so magnetic, I couldn’t help the last step I took, towards the stool, to be closer to her. I was so close that my thighs touched her knees. Her knees, which she then crossed, in the process grazing the zipper of my jeans. 

My breath caught in my chest, and my dick pulsed. She was still looking down at where she’d touched me, so I knew she saw what I felt happening in my pants. 

She shot me a look, questioning all of this. And all I could do was look down at her, letting my eyes sweep over her entire outfit. So simple, yet so lovely, as always. She was wearing a cropped band tee (Cream. Fuck—did she do that on purpose?) and those cut off black denim shorts, with her black-colored toenails showing in a pair of cheap black flip flops. 

I swallowed hard, feeling so entranced by her. My gaze went back to her face, the most appealing part of the woman. Her face was so open, so kind, so pretty—it had done nothing but draw me in since day one. And being so close to her again, I saw the familiar dusting of a few lighter freckles that dotted her nose. She was smiling—her eyes were smiling— at me. 

Somehow it seemed she knew exactly what was going through my mind. Crazy how we’d been avoiding each other for the past couple of weeks, but now just clicked back together as if we were back at Baby’s All Right—in the cramped space of that bathroom.

I looked into her bright eyes, feeling something overwhelming come to life in my chest. 

Fucking hell. She was perfect.

I needed this. I needed to feel this with her again. I’d missed it. The closeness.

“Hi,” I said with a nod, just loud enough for her ears to hear. 

She blinked once, her eyes wide and wondering. Fuck. She was so damn cute. 

Then, I watched fondly as her dimples showed in her cheeks with a soft grin. “Hi.”

End of Jake’s POV

-🌼🌼🌼-

It had been a decent amount of time since Jake had come up to stand right next to you, completely ruining any chance for sanity on your end. 

He’d acted so normal, so forward. His actions were exactly what you’d needed to feel relieved—to know that all was okay. 

You’d gotten nervous being around him, like Elsie would say, you were pretty sure you had a ‘good ‘ol crush.’ Nothing more. You focused on complimenting the set when you’d talked, asking simple questions, just to hear his voice explain the same things Josh already had. The raspiness in his tone was just delicious, and you wanted to hear the small things from his perspective more than anyone else’s.

When you weren’t listening to him talk, you pretended to be interested in the game on the flat screen—you had no clue what they were doing on the field, but it was distracting you from how sweaty your palms were getting at Jake being so close.

Though, you were now several beers (and a couple margaritas) in, previously deciding you wanted to make this night like old times where you’d get drunk and have fun with the guys. The boys’d come up to you a few times in your precious time being next to Jake. They’d bump you with a shoulder as they grabbed a drink. . . Josh only coming by once or twice, having been the chosen one to hold off, as he was the DD.

And, per usual, Sammy had chosen a game that would supposedly be much more fun, completely inebriated: ‘drunk ping pong.’ 

“Like normal ping pong, except you’re drunk!” Sam had excitedly said, his signature cackle following his words. He was right there with you on the 'shitface scale'.

Jake had barely left your side all night, and it felt so right to be so close to him, to stay with him. It felt right, just like it had before, except this time, it had nothing to do with anything sexual. . .it was just his simple presence that made you feel good. 

(You weren't going to talk about how you'd felt his dick twitch in his tight jeans. . .because holy fuck. Your panties had been the victim when that had happened.)

By the middle of the ping pong game, you were still drinking. You felt light in the head, completely carefree. You even caught yourself leaning into Jake a few times, the two of you deciding to be a team against Sammy and Danny. Josh preferred being the referee for the game, getting a chance to nonstop talk by narrating the entire game.

At one point, you knew you were leaning back into him, but you were far too gone to care. You’d purposefully pressed your ass against his crotch, and he’d patiently repositioned you. You were grateful for him being so aware, because you knew you’d regret it in the morning if something stupid happened in front of your friends. You just couldn’t control your actions like a sober-you normally could. 

You were in a body that was moving on its own, your brain barely registering what you’d do.

He’d repeatedly asked if you were doing alright, and you’d get so lost in his chocolate gaze you could only breathe a ‘yes’ in response. 

And, now, as you settled into a booth inside the establishment, it was nearing 1 a.m., and you were simply listening to the guys talk about their next performance. And as you had been all night, you were next to Jake. 

At this point, you were cuddled up next to him more than anything else. You felt so cozy with him. His body was a warm furnace for yours. You were sitting in a way that none of the other guys could see what you were doing. Because of them not seeing your bottom half, you situated a leg over his thigh, comfortably draping it the best you could to make it look as inconspicuous as possible (while simultaneously being incredibly drunk). 

But you could barely worry about it when you leaned your head on his shoulder. You were sleepy. And he was warm, right, and close. 

And he smelled so fucking good. Hints of sage and vanilla overwhelmed your senses, mixed with sweat. . .it was the perfect mixture that helped to lull you to sleep, along with the calming vibration of his voice as he talked with his brothers, your head laying on his shoulder perfectly placed for the melodic sound waves from his voice. 

And right before you dozed off, you felt one of his calloused hands lay on your thigh, warm on your cooled skin. You snuggled into him, a small smile finding its way to your lips.

-🌼🌼🌼-

Before you knew it, the same hand was squeezing your thigh, urging you to wake up.

“Y/n. . .let’s go home,” his voice softly said, his minty breath hitting your face. Home. As your eyes wedged open, you looked up at him to find the apples of his cheeks redden with a deep laugh as he reacted to something Josh said.

If only you could just kiss him - right then and there.

You were still too out of it to register what Josh was saying, but you noticed the other three standing around the booth, Jake securely next to you still. 

Your tummy fluttered at him being so attentive to you, and continued on that way as he helped you climb out (or rather squeak out of the booth, your bare thighs making racket against the seat). 

“Y/n. . .,” Sam started, his voice way too high for him to be requesting your name for anything too serious. And still, you looked up at him as you finally edged your way to the very end of the red booth. “Did you fart?!”

The rest of the guys started chuckling with him, and you couldn’t help but join in as you went to punch his scrawny chest. “Shut the fuck up, you fucker.”

Danny whooped, beating a fist in the air. He started leading the way out of the bar. As you all followed, he turned to catch your eye briefly. “Y/n. . . coming in with some nasty ass insults tonight,” he laughed. “You’re killing it, Baby Dragon.”

“Haven't heard that one for a hot damn second,” Josh remarked, right behind Danny, waiting to hold the door open for you, Jake, and Sam. “Baby Dragon.”

Jake looked at you and Sam curiously, wanting an in on the nickname. 

“Baby Dragon?” He questioned, taking the door from Josh to let you into the dark night, under his lifted arm. 

“Game of Thrones,” was Sammy’s explanation, as he started teetering on his feet, balancing himself on the ledge of the sidewalk to keep himself busy. “Baby dragons.”

You could tell he was still wondering why, so you tried to extend Sam’s drunken response with your own woozy one. “I’m a baby dragon.”

Well, that made no damn sense, you thought, giggling to yourself.

The guys started busting up laughing, Jake still dipping his eyebrows in at you, a smile playing on his full lips. He was watching your every motion, continuing as you looped your arm with Sammy, trying to balance with him.

Josh continued, more lucid than either of you. “We watched Game of Thrones week after week at our apartment for about a year. . . binged it together,” he nodded his head toward you, smirking. “One of y/n’s favorite ways to bond is with a good television show. And she had been dying for us to watch it with her. So, we did.”

The curly headed twin then laughed at you and Sammy as you both nearly fell, making the same ridiculous sound as you almost went down. Sam thankfully recovered in time, even with his feet slippery in his Birkenstocks. He held you close to him. It made you laugh even harder as he playfully checked you for bumps and bruises. 

“We deemed her Baby Dragon,” Danny finished.  

Jake nodded, but he still wanted more information, looking left out. You also noticed him looking as though he’d discovered something. And then it clicked that Josh had exposed a bonding tactic of yours. You slapped your forehead, your reactions still slow, even after your nap, where you had snoozed off the tiniest bit of alcohol. 

“Josh!” You scolded him, way past time. You still made no sense, randomly saying his name— you knew this. 

But, the more Josh looked at you dubiously, you thought you’d leave it at that. You didn’t need to correct him for saying anything. Because, well, it really wasn’t that big of a deal, the more you thought of it. Maybe you were okay with Jake knowing you’d used TV to bond with him. 

In this state, you could plainly admit that you wanted him to know your heart—all of your intentions. And you wanted to tell him all of your desires. . . Show him, even. You were craving him, especially after being so close with him all night. It felt nice. 

You looked up to observe him at that moment, but he was checking his phone, his eyebrows crinkled. He looked up from it, clicking it closed and glancing to the street to see a car rolling up.  

“Your Uber AWAITS!” Sam declared, motioning to the car that had pulled up to the curb, the black and white Uber sign in the corner of the window to confirm his words. 

“Jake, you need to get a damn car,” Josh noted, opening the back door for you. “I’m tired of being your chauffeur. And Uber is going to get tired of you soon, too,” He caught your eye and winked, nodding over to your roommate. “Y/n, I’m thinking it’s your turn to cart Jake around everywhere he goes.”

You approached the nice little silver car, rolling your eyes at Josh, but still giving him a hug as you came up next to him. “Love you, Joshy,” you leaned in, giving him a kiss on the cheek. 

“I’m not taking any car advice from you, Mister Clunkerfuck,” he commented plainly. It made you burst out with laughter. “Your car is on its last fuckin’ leg. It’s going to break down on you at the worst possible moment and I’m not going to feel bad. I think you’re the one who needs to get a car—a new one.”

Sam started drunkenly singing a track you hadn’t heard that included the lyrics ‘you’re the one’. His actions were dramatic, only Danny paid him any mind, starting to sing with him, being just as goofy. 

You were still thinking of what Jake had said. It was exactly how you thought of Josh’s car.

“Clunkerfuck,” you smiled in Jake’s direction. Though, when you caught his eye, he looked a little downcast, you just couldn’t pin why. Maybe you were seeing it, all dazed out. “Good one, Jakey.”

Jakey? It did register in time that you’d called him that, and you were instantly embarrassed by your nickname for him. Too far. So, you hurriedly got in the car, your cheeks flushing as you haphazardly yelled goodbyes to the other guys. 

“Nighty night, Baby Dragon,” Josh had said with a laugh, calling you the nickname once more, closing the door behind you. You’d honestly forgotten about the nickname. . .it had been so long since they’d used it. 

Before you knew it, Jake was scooting into the passenger seat to offer an address to the driver. 

He doesn’t want to sit next to me? You thought, sadly. But he chose to be close to me the rest of the night. . . Why not now?

You tried not to look too disappointed on the outside as he was back to ignoring you for the twenty minute drive back to your place. He paid you no mind, and didn’t even care to check on you like he had all night, on the ride back. 

You weren’t able to give it much thought as you looked at the GPS and reasoned you could get a good nap in on the way home. Drinking always made you feel so tired. 

You laid your head against the cooled window next to you. Jake’s naturally husky (fucking sexy) tone as he spoke to the driver, was the last thing you heard semi-coherently. 

You let the car sway you to sleep for the last 10-ish minutes of the drive back, only one handsome man, with long hair and a voice that dripped of sex, waiting behind your lids as they closed. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

You were still feeling loopy as Jake helped you up the stairs to the apartment. 

You’d had way too much to drink. You needed sleep. 

Once you entered the apartment, it was so quiet and dark. . .you needed light. So, you felt against the wall to switch the light on. But, you instantly regretted it, covering your eyes with both hands. 

“My eyes!” You yelped, way too dramatically. And when you peeked through your fingers, you saw Jake stooped down, next to Stevie’s dish, giving her a scoop of food. She nudged her little gray head against his hand. Your heart squeezed at the sight. But it was still too bright. “My eyes!”

With two hands still covering your eyes, you sauntered, on unsteady foot in front of the other, back towards the switch you’d used to flip the lights on. 

But before you could get to the switch, you knocked into a chair, sending you back onto your ass. Yet again, dramatically.

“Ow!” You moved a hand from your eyes to massage your sore butt, and as you did, you saw Jake moving to switch the lights off. You were once again cloaked in darkness, but he turned the lamp on closest to him. You sighed, your ass not hurting as much as you’d imagined it had. Now you only cared about the lights, how perfectly dimmed the room was. “Ahhh. . .Much better.”

Your lids were drooping again, and you were not looking forward to getting back up on wobbly feet to make the trek to your bedroom. 

Deciding the floor was a comfy enough bed for the night, you laid back, curling onto your side, your hands under your left cheek to make a pillow. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

Jake’s POV

Her eyes slid closed. I watched her, a small grin on my face. So adorable. 

But, she was so gone. I felt bad appreciating her being so cute while she was so incoherent. 

So instead of taking advantage, I’d taken it upon myself to watch over her and make sure she was alright all night. I kept my drinking to a minimum so I could keep a careful eye on her.

We’d spent the whole night together, enjoying each other’s company (even if she had been slightly—very—drunk). It’d felt so right. 

My heart had beat at being like that with her in a similar way it did when we’d watch New Girl together. But, it was different tonight. Instead of only sitting on a couch, we’d been together, walking around, playing, her willingly (albeit drunkenly) falling asleep on my shoulder, a smooth leg draped over mine (holy fuck, by the way). 

We hadn’t really gotten the chance to talk a whole lot, thanks to my brothers demanding our attention. The only talking we had partaken in had been very little. And it’d only been about what she’d thought of the set, little questions she had for me. We’d mostly just taken time to be next to each other. 

For me, it’d felt like coming back home.

I had just watched her as she watched the game on a TV in front of us (didn’t peg her as a girl who liked sports, but whatever), occasionally looking over at me to share a secret smile, making my skin hot with want for her. 

I’d hoped, sitting there on those barstools, that she’d felt it with me—the whole cheesy ass ‘coming home’ thing. 

But then, having to stand there and watch her kiss Josh on the cheek at the end of the night . . .that had been a kick in the fuckin’ ass. I’d literally felt my heart sink in my chest as I watched them, their respective energies feeding off of the other so well. . . they were practically one. 

He’d even helped her into the car, once again calling her that ‘baby dragon’ thing that I couldn’t understand at all. I couldn’t understand her the way he could—the way all of the guys could. I hadn’t been around to get to know her with the rest of them. I wasn’t in sync with her like they were—like Josh was. 

I was late to the game. Probably too late. 

Though, when we got home, I still wanted to help her with a few small things . . . It was impossible for me not to try and help her (even if she didn’t fit as well with me as she did my brother).

And at this moment, I could tell that she was going to let herself sleep on the floor. 

But I wasn’t going to let that happen. 

Bending down next to her beautiful body, I couldn’t help but bite my lip when I saw her round ass peeking out from the bottom of her shorts. She was filled out in all of the right places—an absolute fucking masterpiece. 

Then I heard a little whimper in her sleep. A sigh, as she probably started slipping into dreamland. I felt my dick harden just the slightest bit when I thought of hearing those same whimpers through the walls. . . how she’d said my name in her sleep a few times — moaned it, even. . . Off in her dreams where I could have only hoped to meet her.

I’d spent many mornings so sexually fucking frustrated with how close, yet so far she was. So many times—I was there, right next door to her as my name would slip from her lips. And with only a thin wall between us, I’d jerked my cock into a hand I’d imagined was her sweet pussy, having to bite my lip to keep from saying her name.

Fuck. I palmed at my crotch, willing my dick to soften. Now was not the time.

I touched her shoulder, nudging her a bit. “Y/n. . .come on, wake up. You don’t wanna sleep on the floor.”

She sighed again, “Yes, I do,” she retorted. 

And then she moaned as she snuggled further into the carpet. Her moan. Fuck. She was like a damn good drug. 

“No, you don’t,” I scooped my hands under her back, ready to carry her to bed. “I’ll carry you if you don’t move yourself. Come on.”

I saw her lids flutter, eyes still closed. A little smirk graced her features. “Carry me, Jakey,” she mused. 

There she was using that nickname for me again, I thought. It sounded so much better, sweeter coming from her lips than I’d ever heard it.

And when I let both of my hands totally slip under her, scooping her into my arms, and against my chest, her eyes blinked open, still slightly hooded. Her eyebrows curved in, the look she was giving me telling me she hadn’t believed I would do it. 

She wiggled, arguing. “Jake. You don’t have to,” wiggle. “Carry,” wiggle. “Me.”

I gripped her a bit tighter, but did give her a chance to climb out of my arms. “I’ll let you walk if you want to,” I continued, letting my guard down with my next words. “But I really like being this close to you. . .feeling you against me.”

When she looked at me again, it was as if she’d totally sobered at what I’d said (even though I knew better). Her eyes were inquiring, but so full of an emotion I couldn’t fully place in that moment. All I knew was her unnamed emotion somehow perfectly matched the thrum of my heart in my chest. 

“Me too.”

And then she looped her arms around my neck, bringing my face down to meet hers, just as we’d made it to her room. 

I couldn’t help it. I let myself give in to her apparent want in that moment, and met her lips with mine. 

End of Jake’s POV

-🌼🌼🌼-

As Jake carried you further into your room, to your bed, you never let your lips leave his. Even as he laid you down on your bed, you kept kissing him.

Yes, you thought. This. This is what I needed. I needed him.

You knew you weren’t totally sober, but when he’d said what he did about liking the feeling of being close to you. . . it had made your heart leap into your throat with joy. Because you’d been hoping he still felt like that. You’d been hoping so hard to hear words like that, that it had kind of snapped you from your drunken daze. 

And having him on top of you, laying his body between your legs that naturally opened to make room for him. . .the feeling was divine.

Having Jake with you, it was more than the alcohol that still lingered in your system. You wished you hadn’t let yourself get so wasted tonight, wished you'd have taken him coming closer to you as a sign to not make tonight ‘like old times’. You realized that you wanted it to be new times—times where Jake was here. Things were different with him around. 

And now that you were so far away from the beginnings of him living with you, seeing him show bits of himself, outside of his shroud, throughout June. . . knowing what his lips tasted like—you could admit that having him around was a good type of different. 

Your mouth opened, needing his tongue to meet yours. As soon as it entered your mouth, you sucked on it, loving the taste, the feeling of it, safe in your mouth. 

Needing to be closer to him, you leaned up the slightest bit. You had to feel your skin against his. Closer, closer.

You separated your mouth from his, your lips wet, probably looking just like his: swollen and pink. 

His eyes were dark, lids hooded, encouraging you. You tugged at his shirt, and he got the idea. Thanks to not buttoning his shirts all the way, he was able to slip his short sleeve floral button down over his head. As he did that, you reached around the hem of your old T-shirt, taking it off. 

But before you could throw it to the side, he reached a hand out to grab it, turning the front of it to face you. The members of Cream, staring at you from the splotch of white on black material.

“Does it get you off?” He questioned, an eyebrow raised. “Turning me on with these little outfits you wear to the shows?” 

You smirked, your eyes hazing with want for him. He’d liked your choice of shirt. It hadn’t irritated him. You had made progress. You weren’t at square one anymore. Thank God.

“You liked it?” You rhetorically asked. “You were all I thought about when I put it on.”

His eyes glazed over, just like your own. He liked that.

He huffed, his mouth forming a grin before leaning down to nip at your lips, throwing the shirt to the side. His hands found your thighs, lifting them around his hips. He sucked your bottom lip, moving his tongue to lick into your mouth, his mouth following yours as you melted into the feeling, needing more. 

You pushed him away again, using the time he was leaned back to take your shorts off. He helped you so you didn’t have to awkwardly wriggle out of them. You flashed your eyes at him, smiling with them. 

Then once they were gone, you sat up fully, legs falling from around his hips, to help him. You messed with the button of his jeans. 

He placed his hand over yours, stopping you. You looked up to question him. And as you did, he was already laying you back down, honed in on the sight of your chest that hadn’t stopped heaving since you’d kissed him. 

“Did you think of me when you put this on?” He pulled at the strap of your bra- the same bralette you’d had on the night you’d first kissed. His eyes looked down at the rest of your body, palms running smoothly up your thighs, and over the curves of your hips, giving them a firm squeeze that made you thrust up towards him. His eyes found yours, completely dark. “Don’t start with that.”

Okay, I will, you thought, ready to tease him.

You moved a leg to be between both of his, bending it at the knee, causing it to rub against his crotch ever so slightly, then you brought it back down to lay beside your other leg, looking up at him, eyes innocent. 

“Oops,” you smirked, watching his own lips quirk. 

But as soon as his mouth lifted, it fell into a frown. His eyes squeezed shut, brows drew in, his jaw suddenly set as he ground his teeth. . . 

He looked . . . Frustrated? 

He started shaking his head and quickly grabbed his shirt, going to get off the bed. 

What the fuck?

It made you sit up again, like you had minutes before, but out of alarm this time. 

“Jake?” You worriedly asked, getting off your bed to follow him, clothes be damned. 

He didn’t respond, only grumbled something under his breath. You couldn’t understand him and you were wondering what in the hell was going on. 

As you followed him out of your room and a few steps to his room at the end of the hallway, you grabbed his arm before he could open the door to his room. 

“What’s going on? Are you—?.”

He roughly shook your hand off of his arm.

“Y/n. Go to bed,” he gruffly said, his next words made your throat tighten up even more than his initial tone. “It was a fucking mistake and you need to leave me alone. Go to bed.”

Your mind was suddenly on high alert, ignoring any kind of lingering effects of alcohol, you swallowed the lump in your throat. 

What the fuck was his fucking problem? 

A mistake? That's what you were?

“Jake. . .,” you went to grab his arm again, but he turned before you could, facing you. His eyes were stern, dark with anger. It stunned you, so opposite of how he’d been all night. You continued on, not letting his reaction to you, deter you, “You don’t. . .,” swallow the tears, y/n. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do,” he confirmed. Your chest tightened, you took a step back. “We can’t keep—just go to bed. Leave me alone.”

Your sadness quickly turned to bitterness. . . spitefulness. All of a sudden, you were extremely aware of your state of undress. You felt completely embarrassed from the rejection. You covered your body the best you could. 

“Fine,” you turned quickly on your heel, needing to get away from him and back to the safety of your bedroom. You were suddenly feeling anxious, upset, and ready to recluse. “Good-fucking-night, Jake. I’ll give you what you want. I’ll leave you the fuck alone.”

“Wait, y/n,” you heard his voice behind you.

But you ignored him, gave him a taste of his own medicine. 

Asshole. Fucking asshole. How could someone change so quickly? Be two different people in the span of minutes-time? He had just been telling you how he liked being close to you, he’d barely left you all night. . . Even approached you at the bar, for seemingly no reason but to simply be with you. 

But now? Now you were a mistake.

Fuck him.

“Y/n. . .please, I’m just—.”

Sharply, you spun to face him once you’d made it to your bedroom. You cut him off. “Fuck you, Jake.” 

You let your emotions reflect with an icy glare in his direction. 

Just before you shut the door to your room, you saw his face, completely crestfallen.

When you got back into bed, you curled up into yourself, and angry tears were your sad lullaby to get to sleep. You tried to be quiet enough so he wouldn’t possibly hear you. 

You’d had enough embarrassment for one night and you didn’t want to give him any more reason to judge you, be angry with you, or worst of all—pity you.

As you fell asleep that night, you couldn’t help but think that his sorrowful expression had matched exactly how you felt. Had he been sad? What gave him the right to be sad when he’d cut it off? Called it a mistake?

You worked to push him as far from your mind as you possibly could. You didn’t want to think of him.

He was impossible to understand. As soon as you thought you had an idea of the man, he changed, confusing the hell out of you. 

You tossed and turned, wondering why you still so desperately wanted to understand him. Why did it still matter? He shouldn’t matter. 

When you finally faded to a restless sleep,  you made the decision that you were going to try your hardest to not give a fucking damn about your roommate. 

You apparently weren’t worth his time, so he shouldn’t be worth yours.

You’d meant what you told him. 

Fuck Jake Kiszka.

-🌼🌼🌼-

As the week faded into the next, you’d made it your personal mission to make it perfectly clear to him that you were not giving him any of your time or attention. 

You used one of his earlier tactics and didn’t come out for anything except to eat, shower, go to work, go to class. You tried to avoid seeing him when you knew he was home, so thankful for the work schedules that still got posted on the fridge. 

He now had the additional schedule which showed when they had performances or practices, giving you a couple nights within that week to laze around the apartment with no worries of running into him. 

Occasionally, he tried to stop you to talk to you as you would pass each other. But you weren’t having it. You would cut him off with a wave, a short ‘no’ or a curt ‘goodbye’ as you left the apartment to do your own thing. 

You wanted to make it clear that you were done with whatever the hell you two had been dancing around for the past month. What he didn’t need to know was that you were mostly doing it to convince yourself that you were done with it. 

In the moments he tried to stop you, you would just get hurt all over again that he seemed to be so desperate to beat the dead fucking horse—explain his hateful words. That was all he could possibly want. What else?

And you didn’t want that.

Why did he seem so intent on stopping you to just explain what a mistake being with you had been?

Drawing a line was imperative.

You had to convince yourself that you didn’t still want him and that you didn’t have several passing thoughts of him throughout your days. 

It was much harder than you’d anticipated. Being your roommate, he was still everywhere you turned. No matter how hard you tried to escape him, he was there. In your shared home, in your thoughts, in conversations with Josh. . .

And in your fucking dreams. 

Several days during that blessed week of ignoring him, you woke up in a sweat wanting only him. Your body was calling out to be touched by him. 

And then you had the weak moments. The ones when you’d accidentally run into him, and you wanted to let your guard down, let him know you were hurting more than anything. You wanted to talk to him— wanted to know where he stood. 

But every time, you'd bit your tongue to stop yourself.

He’d said it himself—you were a mistake. 

So, that’s why you never gave in to the temptation to let him talk, or let him know your own feelings about it all. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

Classes were a great distraction from what was going on in your heart and home.

Being able to dedicate your time to something completely unrelated to your roommate was exactly what you needed.

Spending more time on things like class work meant less time to think about Jake.

Though, it wasn’t necessarily doing what your family had intended it to. They’d wanted you to take a summer class to get your mind focused back on writing, use the class as a chance to get your passion for writing back.

But just as it had been before the summer class, your love—your passion for writing just wasn’t there anymore.

For some reason, when Jake had come into your life, it'd helped you realize for the first time in years, just how important music was to you. He brought out this spark that had faded. Being able to be around someone so often who was on the same page when it came to a passion for the art of music—it had done something impeccable for you. 

(He’d done it unintentionally—unknowingly—, of course, as he’d hated your guts when you’d started feeling that incredible pull towards music again.) 

And then there was the day in your summer class that pieces started clicking in your head. Slight identity crisis, if you may.

It had come to you when you’d been prompted to discuss and write about inspirations for pursuing writing. And in that moment, you’d realized you couldn’t think of any other reason you’d pursued your degree save for you wanting to be just like Elsie. (And the added bonus of your grandfather encouraging against a pursuit in a musical degree- at all costs.)

You’d set your sights on Elsie years ago as your number one role model. Your mother had left you with only your older sister to inspire you. Elsie loved writing, so in turn, you’d decided that you would also love writing. 

It was her dream. And, unfortunately, you were only just now realizing that maybe it wasn’t fully yours, as you embarked on your senior year of college. 

Terrible timing for Jake to enter your life and bring out that flame you’d always had for music. 

Another strange thing that had come along with Jake entering the picture were thoughts of your mother. More than you’d ever really had before. 

Thanks to Elsie having to use your forgotten past to help you have a better understanding  of Jake, your mom had been in more thoughts than you were comfortable with as of late. 

You hated thinking of her. But after that conversation, every time you saw a child with his or her mother, you had this giant burst of longing in your heart that you couldn’t put a name to.

It was truly odd, but the sight brought you this sense of impending healing. 

Were you finally on a path to figuring out who you truly were in the aftermath of her leaving?

You had no clue what the pull on your heart meant. 

All you knew was, there were a lot of changing feelings that were quite different than anything you’d felt in the past several years of your life. In those many years since your mother had left you broken on the porch step at ten years old—you’d simply gone about everything in life in a sort of monotone style. 

Rather than thinking with your heart, you’d just followed a gray wave. You’d never taken a real initiative to understand yourself. The waves of life had carried you, and you’d let them, willingly. 

It had been easier—more comfortable— than actually taking time to think about yourself and what you wanted. 

But Jake. . .he’d been the cause of bringing about the most feelings you’d had since your mother left in her blaze of glory. He’d brought out pieces of you that you hadn’t come in contact with since you were ten years old and vulnerable, screaming and crying for your mom to come back as she left you, broken.

But with the feelings this time, it truly felt more like a yearning to be more. You felt this sense of understanding for yourself that you hadn’t ever had before.

In some backwards way, he was helping you get to know these pieces of yourself you’d kept in the dark for far too long. Pieces that needed time, attention, and love. 

It was fucking weird. 

You didn’t understand the anatomy of it all. 

But you desperately wanted to learn more about these parts of yourself you were discovering.  

-🌼🌼🌼-

In order to push through the class (and your degree), you decided it was a good idea to pair up with a study buddy. 

You needed someone to help motivate you to keep going—finish with a skip in your step, rather than falling into a pitiful slump. 

It’s why you decided to ask Theo to be that person after class one day.

Surely that was a reason he’d floated back into your life. Help you stay motivated to get this degree. You didn’t know. 

And maybe it could be more. . .he would end up assisting to help you get your mind away from Jake. You didn’t need to be distracted by your roommate. 

Everything happens for a reason, after all. And maybe these were Theo’s reasons in your life.

He’d agreed with no hesitation, which had made a giant smile plaster to your face. 

But why, when you were leaving class, had you felt as though something had fallen to the bottom of your gut? 

-🌼🌼🌼-

“Fiction or non?” 

You were splayed out on your bedroom floor, with Theo across from you. As he’d pored over his textbook, he kept coming up with questions to ask you. 

Sure, it might be cute and endearing in a normal circumstance. But right now, you wanted to focus on studying for a couple of upcoming tests, as summer semesters were the worst at moving so damn quickly. 

There were more important matters at hand than nonsensical small talk. 

Deciding to humor him (and hopefully get back to the task at hand), you responded. “Hmm. . .,” you sat up from where you’d been laying on your stomach to read about Geoffrey Chaucer. “They both have special things about them—both stretch our minds to understand more about other worlds and our own,” you paused, giving it a second to ponder. “Are we talking writing-wise or reading-wise?”

He chuckled, and winked at you. “It doesn’t have to be something you think so deeply about,” he closed his textbook. What was he doing? You still had to make flash cards! “Pretend we’re playing a game and it’s rapid fire questions.”

You didn’t want to be playing a game. You wanted to be sinking your teeth into the intricacies of this author in order to ace your test. 

You shook your head, your eyes stuck on his closed book. “Fuck,” you scratched your eyebrow. Your mind flicked to music: fun to write and read about. You were actually currently reading a book about John Lennon. You had many books on your TBR list about famous musicians. A most intriguing subject, in your opinion. “Non-fiction.”

His face scrunched up. “Nah,” he disagreed. “Fiction.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” his stare was blank in response. “Don’t really have to think too hard about it.”

You tried not to roll your eyes at him. In your opinion, thinking hard about what you were writing or reading was what made it most desirable. It made you venture into undiscovered realms of your mind. 

When you went to lean back over your book, the movement made you realize just how badly your bladder was begging to be released. 

Stupidly, you thought of the ridiculous work schedule on the fridge. 

Why the hell couldn’t you just let yourself go to the damn bathroom without thinking about Jake? You knew it was fucking ludicrous. You just didn’t want to see him. When you pulled up the picture of the fridge on your phone, you saw you were in the clear. He should still be at band rehearsal. 

You tapped your open book, giving Theo a sign that he needed to open his back up. “I’m going to the bathroom real quick,” you stood up, the wave of having to pee rushing through you tenfold at the motion. He still hadn’t gotten the hint to open up his textbook. Ugh. “I’ll be back soon and then we will make our cards for the test.”

And as you exited the room, you saw him finally get back to business and open his book back up.

-🌼🌼🌼-

You dried your hands on the towel next to the sink, and took a look at yourself in the mirror.

He sort of annoyed you, but Theo was still cute, and he’d made you happy in high school. You weren’t totally opposed to the idea of kissing him (or maybe more) by the end of the night.

It seemed to you to be another good plan to get your mind off of Jake.

And Theo seemed interested enough. Considering he’d been more interested in learning about you, rather than the material for class all night (irritating, but whatever). 

Deciding you looked good enough to return, you opened the door to go back. And as you went to walk out, you stopped at a chest in your way. You got dizzy at the smell—smelled so fucking good—familiar. . .

You looked up.

Jake.

Your eyebrows pinched together, not happy at all that you’d crossed paths. Fucking hell. Why wasn’t he. . .?

“We’ve gotta stop meeting like thi—.”

You held a hand up to silence him, crossing your arms. “Why aren’t you at band practice?” 

Why the fuck was he cracking jokes? You were not in the mood. 

“Ended early,” his face hardened when he shrugged, stating it plainly. 

“Why didn’t you just stay with the guys?” You asked, secretly glad he didn’t. For whatever reason. “You could have hung out with them instead of coming back here.”

“Oh,” he stuck his chin out at the word and leaned a shoulder against the door-hinge. He raised a brow and crossed his arms to mirror you. “I see.”

You definitely didn’t glance at how his bicep flexed as his fingers wrapped around it. And you didn’t take time to appreciate his beautiful hair. . . had it started getting slightly longer? 

You shook your head, retraining your eyes.

“Tell me, Jake, what do you see?” You snapped, flicking your eyes up to his.

He scoffed, rolled his eyes. “Saw that guy lying on your bedroom floor, waiting for you. He was even sweet enough to wave at me when he saw me pass your room,” he sarcastically remarked, waving his hand to mimic. 

“We’re just studying,” you hushed back, feeling the (unnecessary) need to reassure him.

He scoffed. “You think that’s all it is to him?”

You narrowed your eyes and pursed your lips before you pulled him by his T-shirt into the bathroom. You weren’t going to discuss this in a place Theo could possibly hear. 

“I know that’s all it is,” you released his shirt like you were repulsed by the touch, when in reality you wanted nothing more than to pull it completely off of him. Damn him. "Why does it matter?"

“It doesn’t. Just think it’s funny how you’re so naive to believe he doesn’t want more.”

“He doesn’t.” 

“Do you?”

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t. I just think it’s also a little funny that you might want me out just so you can fuck that guy in your bedroom,” he nodded his head in the direction of your room. 

Oh. He was taking it there. Okay.

“Yeah? And if I wanted to?” You jutted your chin out the slightest bit, bringing your arms closer, to press against your chest. “How is it any of your damn business?” 

He stepped once towards you, eyeing your chest, the tops of your breasts revealed, pushed up to the top of your tank. Your skin flushed, heart racing. 

His voice lowered. “It became my business the night you spread your legs for me at Baby’s,” one more step towards you, his eyes locking with yours. Fuck. “When I had you moaning my name while my mouth played between your pretty legs,” another step. “I think you gave yourself away that night. I don’t buy this little act.”

Oh. 

Fuck. . . If your heart wasn’t racing. 

You blinked, shaking your head. You tried to stand firm. “Wh-what act?” Dammit. Why were you stuttering? 

Stand your ground, y/n, you thought, motivating yourself to stay strong. 

But as he took one more step in, your body was effectively once again trapped between his body and a sink. Thankfully, he hadn’t pressed himself up to your front, so you weren’t distracted by that. 

You tried to hold your own.

But shit. . .he was so close. Your skin flared with heat, your heart still beating erratically in your chest. 

As you were making direct eye contact with the chest of his white t-shirt, you craned your neck to see his face fully.

“What act, Jacob?” 

He shook his head. A little smirk played at his mouth. He brought his hand up to hold your cheek. Your skin was on fire for him and his touch.

You couldn’t help it when you leaned into his hand, letting your cheek press into his calloused flesh. 

He licked his lips. “You tell me,” he whispered lowly, nodding his head once at you. 

And you couldn’t help it, his deep brown eyes pulled you in. He was begging to be touched. You had to feel him. 

Leaning in, you held his cheek just as he held yours. He then took the chance, and captured your lips with his.

Ah. His lips. So soft. 

Your vision was hazy, eyes still open, you saw how his eyebrows dipped in with a moan. You matched the sound, closing your eyes, and slipped your tongue into his mouth, tangling it with his. 

You heard him shut the door with the hand that wasn’t holding your face. 

He then moved that hand from your face, reaching both hands under your ass, giving it a firm squeeze before he lifted you the short distance to sit on the bathroom countertop. 

You bit his bottom lip, getting another small moan from him. He did the same to you and then soothed the spot with his tongue. You sighed into his mouth. 

Reaching both hands up, you sunk them into his dark, brunette locks. He matched every movement of your lips with his own, and then licked one wet stripe on the roof of your mouth. 

You were able to gasp for air when he moved his mouth from yours to give the softest, small kisses to your neck. Though it didn’t last long before he turned his pecks into wet, open-mouthed kisses. The slightest stubble of hair on his lip skimmed against your sensitive skin. He worked from under your jaw, all the way up, to the tender spot behind your ear. 

Shivering with a sigh, you gripped his hair tighter, pulling him in as close as he could be to you, on the counter. You felt his hardening length against your center when you did so, making you immediately grind into him. 

And when he did the same to the other side of your neck, this time, he nipped at the skin behind your ear. You bucked your hips into his. He released a groan that echoed through the small bathroom, making you want to melt into it. 

“More,” you breathed, clutching him closer, making sure the front of you stayed connected to him. Feeling his hard length through the material of his jeans was almost too much, but you craved it. You needed it. 

More.

But, the next moment, you heard a little cough from your bedroom, right next door. 

It snapped you from your daze. You were suddenly hyper aware that it was not just you two in the apartment. You had to stop.

You pushed him back, jumping off the counter. When you looked in the mirror to check your face and neck, your lips were swollen and your cheeks were flushed. Your neck was still pink from where he’d been. You checked where he’d bit behind your ear, and seeing the redness back there made you want to hop right back onto that counter. Let him have his way with you— right there. Theo be fucking damned.

But you knew better.

Tucking some hair behind your ear, you tried to make yourself look slightly presentable. 

From behind you, he was brushing a hand through his hair, when he went to smooth a hand over his cheeks, his jaw stretching with the motion. He was contemplative.

His eyebrows drew together, curious. You couldn’t tell if he was upset. He mostly looked . . .confused. 

He removed his hand from his face when his eyes found yours in the mirror, open and wondering. He looked desperate to understand. 

“What do you want, y/n?” 

You didn’t know what in the hell to tell him. 

You wanted Jake. And you wanted him bad. But somehow saying it out loud seemed too difficult at the moment. 

And how could you say that to him when he’d so recently, blatantly told you that you were a mistake?

“I don’t know, Jake,” you whispered back, still looking at your blushing cheeks, messy hair, and freshly kissed lips. You’d need a minute to let your skin return to its normal shade before going back to your room. 

You turned to face him.

When you saw him, looking so beautiful, so lost. . . You thought of how lost you’d felt for the past couple weeks. His words were once again flashing back through your head. 

“It was a fucking mistake and you need to leave me alone.”

It still hurt as you could see him so clearly in the doorway of his bedroom, angry and insistent that you do what he said and leave him alone.

But tonight? Crowding you in here to make out on the bathroom counter? Did he truly want that? For you to leave him alone?

“What do you want?” You leveled him with a stare, your tone sharp, but keeping your voice low since Theo was one room over. You pointed a finger in his chest. “You say you want me to leave you alone, but then you trap me in here like this?”

He shook his head, a dimple showing again with a sarcastic grin. After tucking a lock of hair behind his ear, he put the same hand in his pocket. 

“Oh, there is no way you are going to turn this around on me,” he matched your quiet tone, understanding. “And trap you? Okay, Little Miss ‘Fuck Me, Jake,’” he used air quotes to remind you of your words from the night at Baby’s. 

Fuck. 

Of course he remembered you’d said that. Why wouldn’t he? 

You decided to ignore it, focusing back on him.

“You’re the one who said it was a mistake! That I needed to leave you alone,” you protested, anger flaring in your chest.

He covered his eyes with a hand, the veins in the hand catching your eye. You’d never noticed how masculine his hands were. And damn if he didn’t know how to use them . . . Even in this moment, debating with him, you wanted them touching every part of you. You wanted his skilled fingers, flexing inside of you.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” His eyes were sad when he moved his hand, when you saw the brown irises again. But there was a fire behind them still. “Dammit, y/n. Why do you insist on assuming the worst about me all the fucking time? I’m not the one who can’t make up my mind about what I want,” he leaned back against the wall behind him, crossing his arms. “One minute you’re kissing me. You’re with me, naked and ready as I’m pressing into you,” his voice was being raspy, along with the picture he was drawing. . . It made your cheeks pink. You could still feel what he felt like, pressing against you, throbbing. . .so close to being inside of you. He went on, “And the next moment you’re shoving me away from you, making sure to tell me that Josh doesn’t need to know what we’re doing.”

Of course some of this had to do with Josh. You’d had the smallest inkling, based on how weird he’d acted when you set the rules. 

Stupid.

“I knew you were making it all weird with Josh. . . is this all about Josh?! You know that he and I—.”

“No! It’s about you and how you make it impossible for us to—.”

“You told me to go away!”

“And you told me to stop,” he said back, his smoky voice still hushed. “More than once.”

Your chest heaved, knowing he was right, but you were so lost on how to explain it all. “There were reasons every time.” 

“Reasons,” he scoffed. “So are you going to keep having these reasons? Keep stopping it? Why do you keep letting it happen if all you’re going to do is make us stop?” 

“Last time you stopped us, Jake!” You defended, focusing on keeping your voice low. “Not me. You walked away and called it a mistake.”

He covered his face with both hands, growling. You shushed him. 

He took his hands away to show his jaw set, clenching with frustration. “You were drunk, y/n!” He begged you to understand, “I wasn’t going to do anything with you without you being in full and total control of yourself.”

You were sure your expression showed it all clicking. You blinked at him. It all made so much sense now. 

And what he’d done? His true intentions? Fuck. Sexy as hell.

Maybe you really did need to stop assuming the worst. You just couldn’t help it. It was a trauma response. Jumping to conclusions, thinking that people didn’t want you. . .

Your mom didn’t want you, so you were always convinced other people wouldn’t either. 

Especially men who were as beautiful and mesmerizing as Jake Kiszka.

Damn. Now it really was all on you. How did you even begin to lay it all out? 

You looked him dead in the face, completely unsure of how to articulate the mess in your head. 

“I don’t know,” you covered your face with both hands, mimicking him and frustratedly groaning into your palms. When you removed them from your face, you tucked them into your front pockets. You decided to assure him of one thing. For whatever reason, you wanted—needed him to know this. “I do want you. I want what we almost had in the bathroom at Baby’s,” You stepped towards him, wanting to be close to him again. You placed a delicate hand on his chest. He looked down at you, as you looked up into his eyes, reaching to hold your hand on his chest. Your skin tingled at his touch. “I need to feel you, to be with you. . . it just never seems like the right time. There’s always something.”

You didn’t know why you’d suddenly felt the urge to be vulnerable with him. He kept your hand on his chest, holding you, his eyes meeting yours in understanding. 

And you knew then that it was just him. Jake Kiszka, in and of himself, made you feel this strange sense of safety, comfortability. 

And it was different from the kind his twin had offered you as your friend for so many years. 

With Jake, you weren’t just friends. You weren’t even really friends. . .it was something else—an intense, unavoidable attraction. The safe feeling came combined with this desire to be with him. 

He felt like a resting ground. 

It was weird.

But you liked it.

He smoothed a thumb over your hand on his chest. You held his deep gaze, getting lost in it. 

And out of nowhere, he leaned down, kissing your lips with his. Just for a moment. 

You felt it all the way down to your toes. The feeling of him so close, with one simple kiss from his soft lips, it felt perfectly intimate. 

He released his hold on your hand, wrapping his hand around your waist instead, eyes connected with yours. It was as though he just wanted to touch you, have his hands on you.

It was what you wanted, too. Just the feeling of his hand, as it moved down to just over your hip, his thumb on the skin underneath the hem of your gray tank top. . .it felt right. 

He penetrated the thickness in the air with his low, gravelly tone. His eyes were vulnerable as he asked, “Do you want that? To find the right time?” 

You reached a hand up, holding his handsome face. You smoothed a thumb over his skin, tracing a freckle on his cheek. “I do. I promise I do,” you blinked up at him, needing his answer to that question. “And do you? Wanna find the right time?”

This was so much, butterflies flew rampant in your tummy. 

The grin he gave you was loose, his eyes relieved and open. “I really do.”

It felt so amazing to hear it straight from his lips. He really wanted it too. 

You’d overthink all of this later.

He leaned down to kiss you again. You reciprocated, for just a moment, letting your lips move with his. 

Then you pulled back, your hand falling from his face.

You nodded at the door. “I gotta get back to studying.”

His hand that was holding your hip squeezed slightly, your skin heating at it. You caught his eye, the intense feeling setting in your beating heart. 

“Is that all you’re doing?” His eyes were dark and questioning, making your head spin. “Studying?”

You winked at him, still holding onto your teasing from earlier. “It’s whatever I want it to be.”

His eyes seemed to darken more, pulling you in so your chest touched his. So warm. “I really don’t want to hear another guy fucking you through these walls.”

You pressed closer to him, your body thrumming with fire. “Funny coming from the guy who told me I could just wear earplugs when he brought women over,” then you pulled back, his hand fell. His eyebrow lifted, a tiny smirk lifted his lips. You continued, “Why don’t you go ahead and get a pair of your own, hm?”

You patted his cheek, reluctantly parting from him. Before leaving the bathroom, you chanced one more glance at your appearance. Not quite as flushed as before, though your cheeks were still blushing. You’d find a way to pass it off. Whatever. You’d been gone too long. 

You were about to open the bathroom door when, from behind, his voice stopped you. You felt a spark as his hand delicately touched yours.

“Hey.”

You swiveled on your heel, raised your brows in question. “Yeah?”

“Do you think you could come to our gig this weekend? It’s a bigger one.”

Did you work this weekend? You couldn’t remember. 

All you knew was that, suddenly, you really wanted to be at their show. 

“I’m not sure . . . Depends on work.”

“I would love—,” he put a fist in front of his mouth and cleared his throat. “The guys and I would love it if you could be there,” he shook his head, seeming to come to terms with an inner battle. “For me, I would just love to look out and see your beautiful face in the crowd.”

Your mind was fuzzy. All of this felt so unreal, yet so real all at once. He really wanted you there? And had he just called you beautiful? 

“I’ll try my best,” you slapped on a small grin, trying to play hard to get, masking your inner shock. You wanted to keep him on his toes, like he’d kept you for the past weeks. 

He scrunched his brows in and messed with his bottom lip. “Yeah,” he nodded, clearing his throat. “Yeah, totally get it. Just text me and let me know.”

Anytime he messed with his mouth, it was a distraction. You had to keep yourself from watching too close. It really didn’t help that you knew the feeling of those full, pink lips. . . 

And as you walked the short distance to your bedroom, you realized something else.

Had he just asked you to text him? 

What was all of this? This new territory you had just discovered?

-🌼🌼🌼-

And a couple nights later, when you were sitting on the couch watching New Girl, Jake came to sit at his end of the couch. 

Once you’d finished the episode he’d sat down to watch with you, he cleared his throat, making you look over at him. 

He was already looking at you. It made your stomach flurry. You decided to look back at the TV, nervous under his gaze. 

He spoke, keeping your ear in his direction, you paused the show. “We should start the series over. You know, start at the beginning together.” 

You smirked, feeling a rush of giddy happiness and excitement buzz through you.

“Yeah, sure,” you coolly respond, starting the show from scratch.

And as Jess began the first episode, you peeked quickly over at him, a content smile resting on his lips as he lounged at his end of the sofa.

-🌼🌼🌼-

And for the next few nights, Jake kept coming back. He would sit on the couch with you, simply to watch your show. 

Just to share that quiet time at the end of each day with you.

Whenever he would come to sit down, your nerves would translate to a dizziness of butterflies in your stomach. 

Though, it felt like the most natural thing in the world to laugh with him, share popcorn or pizza, look at each other when a character would say something particularly hilarious. . .

But neither of you ever moved to kiss the other. You know . . . make it anything more than two people watching a TV show.

It almost seemed like an unspoken rule that you were not doing that again . . .

. . .yet. 

Both of you, seeming to wait for the right time.

But you sure liked those quiet nights.

These nights with him made your house feel like a home. . . comfortable and safe. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

On Friday night, you got off work a little early.

It was the night before the guys’ show, so Jake obviously wasn’t home due to a last minute rehearsal and details. You'd seen as much on the rehearsal schedule on the fridge.

You took your time showering, shaving, exfoliating, pampering yourself fully, with the apartment to yourself. . .

Once finished, you realized you really wanted to watch New Girl. Even though Jake wasn’t home, you were in the middle of one of your favorite parts of the show. You had to watch the next couple of episodes. 

You’d just rewind to watch again when he was home next. 

You couldn’t help it. The two of you had been binging and you'd come to your favorite part in the whole show. It was arguably the best part—what the audience waits for from practically the first episode. 

Jess and Nick were finally about to bite the bullet, get their shit together and get together. 

And as you sat with a couple slices of warmed up cheese pizza from the night before, cuddled up with Stevie purring against your blanket covered thighs. . .something clicked. 

As they looked at each other throughout the whole episode of “Cooler,” you were angry with them. So angry that they were so close to finally being together, yet so far. . .

“Not like this!” Nick said to Jess, stopping her from kissing him. He suddenly sounded and looked very much like you had felt recently.

He looked desperate to make it the best it could be, get Jess to understand that it had to be just right. They’d waited long enough, and he wanted it to feel like it deserved to. 

You couldn’t stop it when it pulled you right back to your real life. Your current situation. 

And if you were upset with Nick and Jess for piddling around and not just acting on their feelings, not letting loose when it was so obvious they needed to . . . Then why the hell were you dragging it out so damn long with Jake? 

You felt like the two of you were essentially Nick and Jess. You were roommates, with so much building between you—everything and nothing to lose all at once. 

You wanted to act on it. You wanted it all. It was time. 

No, it was past time. 

And as Nick and Jess finally kissed, you decided.

The gig was tomorrow. You were off work early enough to go. . .

You were going to the show, and you weren’t going to stop anything that may happen afterwards this time.

-🌼🌼🌼-

As you left for work the next morning, you noticed a piece of paper sitting on the dining room table with your name on it, along with a sticky attached to it with an address and a little scribbled note underneath. 

Just in case 

-J

Your tummy fluttered. 

You’d been running late, so you hadn’t had time to look at it, tucking it into your bag to look at later.

-🌼🌼🌼-

In the quietness of the record store, you opened it up to find the setlist.

Grinning, you checked it over. Every song on the list were ones you knew. Save for one near the bottom. 

Edge of Darkness.

Suddenly curious about the song, you wondered. . . Was this song the reason he wanted you there?

-🌼🌼🌼-

Due to stupid-ass New York traffic and thinking you’d let Stevie run out of the apartment, only to find her hidden behind clothes in your closet, you were running roughly forty-five minutes late for their gig.

You’d texted Jake to let him know you were running late, but hadn’t received a text back. Momentarily, you’d been afraid of him being upset with you for being late, your stomach falling when he hadn’t responded for the thirty-ish minute drive to the venue after you’d sent it. 

Then, you realized he was on stage performing, so of course he wouldn’t respond. 

Whenever you’d sent the text, your hands had been extremely shaky, checking your text a million times for grammatical errors, even after you’d sent it. It was seriously like a ridiculous high school crush. 

Dumb.

You still believed that if you just fucked him and got it out of your system, some of those juvenile feelings would come to pass. 

As an adult woman, you didn’t need to care so deeply for how a man might respond to you. There was no use for that, and you thought yourself ludicrous for it.

Though, you really did feel terrible as traffic took so long, delaying your arrival to the venue. Your normal road rage came out a few times, honking your horn and cursing as people would drive several miles below the speed limit in front of you. 

You just wanted to get there.

-🌼🌼🌼-

When you did get there, the guys were playing their hearts out as you had to squeeze through a mass of sweaty, singing bodies, alcohol sloshing whenever you’d pass through. 

The establishment had two levels, so you decided to climb some stairs to watch from a higher level, hoping for less of a crowd from that vantage point. 

And when you’d made it up there, you realized it was still crowded. But it wasn’t nearly as bad as below. You found a semi-clear space to claim, a thankfully nice view of all of the guys.

The first thing you noticed when you looked at Josh was his hair. He’d told you recently that he was trying to grow it out on the sides, going for a full head of curling hair. You hadn’t seen him recently enough to see the progress, though, and it looked great on him. 

“All right!” Josh had screamed into the mic, hyping up the packed house, receiving screams from everyone watching. Jake strummed a little note which made you immediately hone in on him, but he seemed irritated, strumming a few more times, shaking his head.

Josh glanced over at his twin, sensing the issue, and he smiled back at the crowd. “How we feeling?!” He raised his hands, eliciting more screams as Jake continued strumming, finally gaining some help from someone in their little backstage crew. The curly headed twin gave Jake another look, but Jake’s back was turned as he worked with the crew member to get the problem figured out. 

Josh walked over to his twin, checking out the problem for himself. They were having the smallest conversation before Jake shook his head at Josh, and then the crew member. He turned around, effectively giving up on the issue. He played another chord, checking, but his brows were still drawn in with irritation.

What was going on? Was he okay? You suddenly had an incredibly impulsive urge to go check on him. But you stood your ground as he felt out a few more notes, shrugging shortly and giving a curt nod to Josh as a go ahead. 

Josh once again smiled so wide it looked like it hurt. You could tell he was trying his hardest to alleviate any sort of tension for the crowd. Fortunately, the crowd seemed oblivious, playing into it as a sort of bit, it seemed.

You took a few seconds to send a text to your sweet, empathetic friend to let him know you were there and that you wanted to get a drink after the show.

You hated seeing him stressed- especially on stage. You were feeling it with him and with Jake.

“How about a new one?” He asked, receiving a plethora of yells and screams. You smiled with the crowd. “This next one is called Edge of Darkness. . .and it’s about. . .the edge of darkness.”

You giggled at him. He was a great frontman. The people were soaking it all up, laughing with him, and screaming for more. 

But you had to check back in on Jake. He seemed to be doing better, still upset, but he smiled tightly to a few screaming girls in front. 

He started playing, his face saying that something was not blending together like you knew he wanted it to. But you couldn’t tell the difference, so you knew the crowd couldn’t, either. 

It didn’t stop him from turning to check the amp a couple more times before suddenly, he was ripping through the most erotic guitar solo you’d ever heard him play live.

Fuck. The song was called the ‘Edge of Darkness’, and it was ironic because you felt like you were on the edge of some kind of dark shit. Watching him manipulate those strings with such precision and intent, his hips fucking (yes, fucking) into his guitar. It was unlike anything else he’d ever done with that guitar. . .you were absolutely sure of it.

You were sweating. And you knew it wasn’t from proximity to any people around you. No, it was from watching him go to this secret place that you wanted to join. 

His facial expressions were driving you insane. All you could imagine was seeing those faces above you as your body replaced the guitar. Bent over, with him fucking into you with the same vigor he was giving his instrument.

Then he threw it behind his fucking head. It got you every. time. He made it look so effortless— so easy for him to balance it there (though you knew it wasn’t), while he still played all of the intricate chords. He was a natural—a true rockstar. 

You wondered what else he was a natural at. 

You were squirming underneath your skin, your palms were clammy and when you moved a bit, you noticed your thong was uncomfortably damp between your legs. And your jeans made it impossible to move to fix the issue. 

These solos of his. . .fuck. They were the sole cause for your sexual frustration after these shows. Why you’d had to replace vibrators in the past month. 

But tonight? Tonight, you wouldn’t need the help of your hand or a tool. No, tonight, you planned on going home with him— to take care of it with his help.

-🌼🌼🌼-

But as you waited out in the bar area after the show, after sending Jake a text on how well he did, you were met with radio silence on his end. 

It sat there, glaring at you in the blue bubble. 

You, 10:43 p.m.: You fuckin killed it. So glad I came.

It had now been several minutes since the show had ended and since you’d sent the message, and looking at the time on your phone, you realized it had now been closer to an hour. 

What was taking them so long? Their crew packed their shit up now . . . so where were they?

You weren’t able to wonder too much longer, hearing Josh’s voice come up right behind you. 

But he didn’t have his usual bounce. He sounded super pissed.

“Your roommate’s a dick,” he sat in the seat at the bar next to you. He ran two hands through his growing hair and then put both of his hands over his face. He sat there like that until the bartender came up, removing them when they asked what he wanted. “Strongest thing you have.”

“Josh?” You tentatively reached a hand out to touch his bare shoulder. He’d worn his little brown vest he loved so much, sans a shirt underneath. “You okay?”

When he looked at you, he looked sorry for how he’d been acting. And he said as much. 

“I’m sorry, y/n. Jake just—,” he put his face into his crossed arms on the bar to growl, then he faced you again. “He’s been in a piss mood all fucking night, and when he’s mad, I feel it all the way down to my bones. I also just get really fed up with his little attitude he gets when something goes wrong. It’s annoying as hell and I get tired of it.”

You could relate—you also hated Jake’s pissant attitude when he was upset over something. Though, in this circumstance, you felt inclined to be the devil’s advocate.

“Josh. . .you also get upset when things go wrong. You’re the biggest perfectionist I know.”

“Apparently you don’t know Jake, then. And you’re one to talk!” He spat. Then he groaned again, his eyes sympathetic when he looked at you. “I’m sorry. I know. I agree with you. I’m sorry. He just. . . seemed off all night and it already bothers me when he’s upset over something and he wasn’t telling me everyth— my twin intuition always knows when he isn’t telling me everything. And tonight he sure as hell had something else on his mind that he refused to give any weight to,” the bartender came up with a shot of something. Josh threw it back, and shook his head, coughing just a bit. His eyes bulged the slightest bit.

You couldn’t help your little laugh at him. He needed that. Take the fucking edge off. “Strong like you wanted?”

He gave you a grin, his eyes easier than they were before. You relaxed, realizing you were absolutely feeling that tension with him. You felt especially better when he waved the server back over to ask for a salty dog. That’s more like it.

“Anyway,” he started, swiveling his body to be facing towards you, one arm on the bar. “Sam and Daniel didn’t even have to be subjected to it. They left to meet up with a couple of their other friends before he exploded on me. Just me! And they don’t get those same inklings from him that I do. Being a twin is both a blessing and a curse. I swear we fuckin’ share a brain sometimes.”

His movements, facing you like this on his barstool, made you think of when Jake had sat next to you like this—the night he’d kept you close, taken you home, and then cut things short. Everything you’d felt that night coming back tenfold. 

 . . . Where was he? It didn’t matter where he was. Really. But you were curious. 

“Where is Jake?” You tried to play it cool, because that’s what you were. Cool. It was nothing. You went ahead and softened the question by complimenting his growing hair. “And I like your hair.”

“Thanks. Biotin vitamins, I swear to God,” he patted the sides of his ‘do, giving you a cheeky smirk. “And Jake—. Thank you,” he said to the bartender, giving her a quick wink as she sat his drink on his coaster. “He went back to your place. Didn’t wanna stay around for a good time. He was not in the mood.”

Your heart sank.

What? He’d gone home?

But he'd asked you to come tonight? Had he gotten your texts? Surely he had. There was no reason he wouldn’t’ve. All of a sudden, you felt extremely stupid for sending them. . .for thinking anymore of tonight than you should have. For worrying about him from the balcony. When he didn’t even care to stay to see you. 

He was the most unpredictable asshole and you were foolish to think, for even a split second, that he wasn’t. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

Luckily, Josh was ready to end the night fairly early. 

You were glad because you weren’t in the mood to entertain after having your feelings hurt (stupidly) by Jake leaving and not telling you. It was the smallest thing to be upset over, you knew. Your heart had gotten ahead of you, and into something ridiculous. 

On your drive home, you kept telling yourself that you were done with all Jake related thoughts. You shouldn’t give two shits about the man. Really. He’d been a jerk from day one. And even though he’d had a few instances of being someone so wonderful. . . he kept doing things that just reminded you that maybe he was just incapable of being consistent.

You were worried about what you’d go home to. Afraid of hearing him and a girl from his bedroom, seeing them on your couch. . . You were tired of not being able to keep up with him. It was exhausting. 

And as much as you told yourself he didn’t matter, you knew you were lying to yourself. You’d made him matter the past couple months—let him matter. Too many times you’d let him get to you. And as much as you wanted to regret it, you couldn’t fully let yourself do that yet. 

The stubborn, stupid part of you wanting to give him a chance. Wondering what had happened tonight that got him so upset. 

You cared. . .even though you really wished you didn’t. 

So as you traipsed through your front door, you were relieved when all of the lights were turned off, and there was no sight or sound of a woman. Only Stevie, who came up to purr against your calves. Feeling bad for your hungry kitty, you quickly went to drop your purse to the table so you could feed her.  

But when you looked in her dish, there was already fresh kibble in the bowl. You hadn’t fed her before you’d left. . . 

Had Jake . . .? Obviously. Your heart perked at the gesture.

Then, the sound of a guitar being strummed from his bedroom stopped your thoughts. Stevie went to eat, and you left her to do so as you walked towards the sound. 

You weren’t choosing your path. . . your feet were simply leading you, your mind hardly keeping up with what you were going to do once you got to his room. 

Just felt a want to see him. Talk to him. 

Why?

You’d worry about that later. Didn’t want to think about that for the time being.

Once you got to his door, you noticed it wasn't fully closed. You didn’t think as you pushed it open. 

And then, there you were. And there he was, facing the door, his concert attire still fully on. He looked up at you from his spot, stopping the strumming abruptly. 

But his eyes weren’t kind. He wasn’t happy. He was still feeling the anger Josh had been talking about. 

Not giving two shits how he’d react, you didn’t hold back. You were still pissed, too. At him. 

“It’s not fucking kind to invite someone to something and then leave them there without a damn hello or goodbye.”

He blinked, his lip curling to show a sarcastic smile. “You’re gonna pull that shit?”

You stepped further into his room, coming close enough to him that your knees were almost touching his, where he sat at the edge of his bed, his hand clutching the acoustic with a tight grip. Too tight. 

“What the fuck, Jake? Of course I’m going to ‘pull that shit.’ It was a fuckin’ prick move and I didn’t appreciate it.”

“It’s a prick move to keep someone waiting for a response about whether or not you’ll be somewhere when I can see damn well your schedule on that fridge, saying all week that you didn’t work tonight,” he got up to place his guitar on the stand next to his bed. He kept careful to not touch you as he moved. Wow. He placed it delicately, in stark contrast to his sharp movements. He spun on his heel to face you. “Why don’t you care, y/n? You don’t have to fucking come if you don’t care. I’d rather you stay home if you don’t want to be there when I invite you.” 

“What made you think I don’t care?!”

“You kept me hanging! All week,” he angrily brushed a hand through his hair, growling with the motion when a ring got stuck in the locks. “Fuck!” He started pulling down his bed covers, not looking at you as he argued. “You don’t do that when it’s my brother. He wants you there, you’re fuckin’ there. With me, when I ask you, you’re always late and you barely even tell me you’re coming. It’s obvious who you’re really going to see and I’m tired of you acting like you care about me when you really only care about Josh.”

“What?! First of all, you knew I worked the night of your first show. I didn’t want to. . .I got fucking called in— so don’t you dare hold that against me!” You came closer to him, hitting his arm to make him stop the unmaking of his bed. “Quit doing that and fucking listen to me!”

He went rigid, throwing the covers dramatically, stopping like you asked. He stood stiff as a board with his arms crossed at his chest. He motioned a hand for you to continue, almost mocking. “Go on. Enlighten me.”

You shoved his chest. “Stop it!” You crossed your own arms, your heart beating so hard in your chest. “Stop with the Josh shit. Anytime either of you ask, I’m there. I’m sorry I didn’t let you know sooner about tonight. I’ve just been—I don’t know,” you’d been thinking about him. How badly you wanted to do him after the show tonight. “Distracted?”

“School?” He questioned, seeming genuinely concerned.

You shook your head, not wanting to lie. “No. Not school. I don’t know how to explain—,” you looked into his eyes. They were hardening again. “I don’t know. Just distracted.” 

He shook his head. He was in the dark. There was no way he’d know the full truth unless you told him. But you weren’t sure how to articulate it. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, his jaw set. “Thank you, y/n. I’m going to bed. Goodnight.”

“Jake— seriously. Please sto—.”

“I just—dammit!” He combed a hand through his hair and got the same ring stuck. Having enough, he took the one piece of offensive jewelry off, and placed it delicately on his desk behind him. He locked eyes with you again. “The other night in the bathroom, you—I could have sworn you—but you—you told me— I just can’t keep up!”

“I can’t keep up with you!” You yelled back, momentarily worrying about neighbors. It was very late.

You were at a loss. 

You surveyed him, his chest was heaving like yours. Walking a few steps forward, your chest was almost touching his— you softly grabbed at the front of his light red T-shirt, eager for him to hear. His breathing seemed to slow at you being so close. Your eyes held each other, his were questioning.

It was now or never. The frantic beating of your heart, sounding in your ears. You were shaking. You were tired of him thinking he knew best. 

What you were most tired of was tiptoeing around—the barely missing each other. 

“I’m only asking one more time. What do you want?” He begged, reminding you of Ryan Gosling in The Notebook.

You would have giggled at the similarity if you weren’t feeling the seriousness of this moment. 

There was so much to say, but only one thing left to say, all at once. . .

You stood there, sharing breaths, for a few still seconds. Could have been minutes. You were lost in the beautiful gaze of his deep, dark eyes.

Your heart slowed, your breath catching in your throat while your stomach dropped to your knees.

“I want you to fuck me,” you said lowly, grabbing at his shirt with a sturdier hand. You weren’t scared—only sure. So fucking sure. And beyond ready. 

His jaw went slack. It almost looked like he wanted to say something to challenge you, but he bit his lip. Instead, he grabbed softly at your jaw, curving his hand up to cradle your head, softly under your flowing hair. 

“Well I can fucking do that.” Was all he said as he dove in, securing your lips with his. 

He sucked on your bottom lip and penetrated your mouth with his smooth tongue. He tasted like minty gum and cigarettes. Usually, you found it repulsive to kiss someone with the taste of nicotine in their mouth, but with Jake . . . It was suddenly everything you’d ever wanted in a kiss. 

You lost yourself in the moment. In him. There was nothing stopping you now. 

Continuing to kiss you, he turned you both, until the backs of your legs softly hit the edge of his bed. Taking that as your cue, you went to sit down on the sheets. You unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, his delicious hips right at eye level with you now. He took initiative and pushed them the rest of the way down, stepping out of them.

Then all you could see in front of you was him, bursting at the seams in his pink, AE briefs. Fuck, he was so cute and sexy all at once. You didn’t know how he did it. 

Your mouth watered as you went to pull down his briefs. But he put a hand on yours to stop you, the cold metal of his rings a contrast to your heated skin.

You looked up, your eyebrows dipping in question. 

“Not yet,” he corrected. Then he took his shirt off, exposing his beautifully soft, tanned, and perfectly toned chest. A long necklace laid against his stomach, and you used it to pull him down to you. 

You laid back, his legs coming to rest in between yours as he crawled onto the bed to follow you. He unwrapped the necklace from his neck, putting it on his small bedside table. Using the time he was preoccupied, you pushed his underwear down his thighs, watching his face to see his reaction. 

He teasingly rolled his eyes at you. 

“Damn, woman,” he chuckled under his breath, showing his perfectly straight teeth. Beautiful man. He finished the job, kicking them off. “One track mind or what?”

Rolling your eyes back at him, you gave a quiet grin and clicked your tongue. “Whatever, Kiszka.”

But he wasn’t wrong. You wanted to see him. Fully.

And you were glad you got your way, because fuck. 

He was stunning. Even more so when you could fully see it, without the dimness of the bathroom lights at Baby's. How could a cock be so pretty?

You reached out to touch him. He shivered at the feeling of your cool skin on his heated, swollen flesh. So soft, smooth. . .thick.

Shit.

His precum was already leaking from his pretty pink tip. 

Your mouth was watering. Your need to have your hands on him clouded your every thought. 

But before you could do anything more than run your fingers over him, he was moving his body to be on top of yours, your hands falling from him. You edged up the bed, him following after you. His eyes were hungry, and his hands were purposeful and strong as he quickly unfastened your jeans, pulling them off in one smooth motion. 

Your pussy throbbed at how close it was to happening. How close you were to finally feeling him. Fulfilling the need you’d discovered too long ago. 

Taking off your cropped t-shirt as he stripped you of your panties, you hissed as your wet mound met the air of his room. You made quick work of your bra. 

He sat above you, gently cupping your bare pussy, while watching your naked chest rise and fall as you took several deep breaths, waiting. You ground into the palm of his hand, needing the friction. He then moved his hands, grazing them up your thighs, hips, waist, and finally let them settle on the outer curve of your breasts. 

Your skin grew goosebumps, your nipples hardening to peaks in the cool air of his bedroom. He seemed mesmerized. His mouth was slightly opened, his eyes studying your chest with every breath you took. 

“Jake?” You whispered, breaking his stare at your breasts and making him look into your eyes. 

“Sorry,” he blinked a few times, shaking his head with a little grin, balancing his hands on either side of your head. He leaned down to give your lips a sweet kiss. “It’s the first time I’ve ever seen all of you . . .,” He leaned on a forearm, and reached to your chest again, holding one breast in his hand, massaging it as his thumb skated over the nipple. “Beautiful,” he praised, looking you right in the eye. Oh, Jake.

Then, his mouth attached to the opposite breast, his lips sucked gently, his tongue flicking out to lick the nipple. 

You felt it everywhere, your toes curling at his touch. And with a sigh, you leaned into his mouth, needing more. Needing all he could give. 

“Fuck, Jake,” you whined. “Your mouth feels so good.”

And then he switched breasts, making sure to give each the same treatment. . . Holy sweet hell. You were done for. 

Your body shook, feeling your nerve endings spasm. No one else had ever stimulated you this much, this way. You didn’t know you could feel so much from a man only lapping at your chest. He was magic. 

“Jake,” you keened, your chest pushing further into his mouth. Your hips thrusting up to meet his. Fuck. With both of you having your pants off, he almost entered you at the motion. And damn the temptation was too much. “Shiiiit.”

He continued to worship your chest, and when you met his hips again, he bucked into yours, deliciously rough, matching a thrust. You felt him, hard, and fitting right between your wet folds, so close to being inside you. 

You saw stars, closing your eyes. 

Fuck.

You heard the softest groan against your breast. You looked down at him, lavishing at your supple skin. One thick brow was raised, but then he pulled them in, in concentration, as he rocked into you again. Shit. 

You couldn’t help the cry that escaped you. Or the words that followed. 

“Please, Jake. Please,” you didn’t know what you were asking for. Just needed more of him. You pushed your hands into his hair, growing confidence from your position. You pushed his face further into you, and you felt him bite at your nipple. Your hips naturally came to meet his and with all of it—fuck—your moan was pornographic. “I need you,” you pushed up, grinding your hips into his. “Here,” you did it again for emphasis, your pussy aching for him.

He released the nipple he’d been sucking with a pop. There was a snicker at your chest, and you saw the dimple in his cheek when he smirked. But before he did anything else, he moved back up your body, your chests finally touching. He had a hand still holding snug to a breast. He squeezed it once, your clit thrummed at the motion and you once again pushed your front to his. 

He kissed the column of your neck softly, trailing kisses from there, all the way to the corner of your mouth. You moved to meet your lips with his, your hand still tangled in his wavy hair. 

You kissed lazily for a few minutes, just enjoying the taste of each other. Your pussy still occasionally grazing his impossibly hard front. You’d moan into each other’s mouths every time. . .absolutely euphoric.

When you came up for air, you let yourself get lost in the chocolate pools of his irises. He was so handsome. So pretty. You couldn’t help the hand that came to hold his cheek, the other one still combing through his hair. 

He gave the corner of your mouth one more peck before he rasped, moving to give the same kiss to the swell of each of your breasts. “Your tits . . .,” he blew out a breath against your skin, making the flesh erupt in goosebumps. You sighed. “Fuck, y/n. They’re perfect. So soft and full. . .” One more kiss to each, this time with tongue. “Fuckin’ perfect.”

Then his slick tongue was moving from your chest, down your stomach, and over your right thigh. He hitched both of your legs up, to be bent at the knee. Giving him better access to what you knew he was about to do. He gave your pussy the same long look he gave your breast, admiring what was in front of him. He licked his lips at the sight. 

Your heart was racing. 

And without warning, his tongue found you, flattening on your sensitive clit. It was so hard, with only the slightest direct contact from his tongue, you were bucking your hips into his face. He used two strong hands to grasp and hold your hips to the bed, making sure to soothe your position by making wide, smooth circles with his thumbs in the hidden flushed dips between your thighs and groin. 

He then dipped his tongue to curve into the growing wetness between your folds. You gasped as he lapped at your arousal, occasionally moaning into you as he would lick. He continued like that for long enough that you weren’t sure you could see straight. Your legs were weak from your position. It was almost as if he was enjoying this—simply getting to taste you, feel you against his mouth. 

And suddenly, you felt your body begin to tremble uncontrollably, your every sense becoming heightened. The feeling of him was all-consuming. You couldn’t deny it any longer, the growing sensation in the pit of your belly threatening to give way at any moment. And he knew it. The work of his mouth became more intense, more fervorous, more hungry. His plush lips working your throbbing cunt into a frenzy until you finally gave in. 

He hardly took his mouth off of you, only enough to speak his velvet soft voice against your soaked pussy, his breath hot against the wet skin. “That’s it, baby, that’s it. Let me have it.”

Then it hit you, harder than it ever had. You suddenly realized that you’d been deprived your entire life of this feeling, no man had ever done that to you. Let alone with just his mouth. 

You came back to, arching into him as you felt his tongue make a perfect circle around the still-tight bud of your sensitive clit. You could hardly control your tremors as your body had felt the ultimate test of ecstasy. 

Then you heard a little whimper from Jake, and you looked down through hazy eyes to see his eyebrows were drawn deeper than you’d ever seen them. 

A movement caught your eyes further down. His hips were thrusting, and with each rut of them, he kept forcefully meeting the mattress. You felt his bed shake with each jerk of his hips. Your clit twitched at the sensation of the bed rocking and his mouth on you. You could only imagine what it would be like when he was inside you. You felt the vibration of a growl against your pussy.

“Jake. . .,” you moaned. He hummed against you, which you presumed was a response to you. You hitched your hips up to meet his mouth as he curled his tongue to fit in the small hole between your folds, which gained him an involuntary shake from your body and a whine from you. He then trailed his tongue all the way up from your hidden spot, to hit the sensitive underside of your clit. You groaned loudly at the way his tongue was intermittently flicking against and massaging your overly sensitive bundle of nerves. 

He whimpered again, and his brows creased so closely together. You felt another jolt beneath you as the bed shook with a rather forceful thrust from his hips. You knew he was either really enjoying himself or was getting tired and really wanted his own release. From past experience with men, you assumed the latter. 

“Jake,” you started scooting your body up the bed. You got flashbacks to nights cut too short when you said his name like that. You knew he did, too, as his mouth lifted from you and his dark eyes met your own.

“You said you wanted this,” he grunted in response, his forehead falling to lay on your thigh in defeat.

“I do, Ja—.”

He interrupted you when he dug his fingers into your hips harder, pulling you back down to meet his slick tongue. Your eyes rolled back in your head at the feeling of him lapping at you with the force he was exuding to seemingly keep you in your spot.  

You tugged at his hair harder, trying to signal him to stop. As much as you didn’t want him to stop, it wasn’t fair for you to have all of the attention. He needed his release.

He slowly, hesitantly stopped and looked up at you, and you saw his eyes soften the slightest bit at your face. You knew you probably looked concerned, as that was how you were feeling for him. 

“Are you okay?” He lifted his body from the spot he’d been laying in between your legs. He laid his body beside yours, and his swollen cock came to heavily sit on top of your leg. 

You could have drooled at the sight of it flush against your skin. Fuck.

“You need release, too, Jake,” you combed your fingers through his hair. He wrinkled his brows at that. You continued, “I’ve already finished once; you don’t have to give me any more attention.”

He leaned back a bit, seeming offended. “You don’t want me to keep going?”

You pulled him by his shoulders, back to where he’d been, and reassured. “No, I want you to keep going—Goddamn, babe. . .but I also want to make sure you are able to feel satisfied and taken care of,” you sat up, and moved down the bed, so you were looking right at his thickness. You got him to position himself to be where you just were, his back against the headboard. You stared up at him through your lashes as you spit onto his aching head, then grasped his dick in your hand, all in one fluid motion. 

His eyelids dropped, and his Amber-brown irises darkened. You gave him one slight squeeze and you saw the muscles in his thighs tighten and his head fall back slightly. But his gaze stayed on you. 

Giving him one more pump, you rolled your thumb over the head. He groaned, but you weren’t able to give him any more attention as he flipped your body to be under his again in one swift motion. 

You squinted at him from your new position, “Why can’t I—?”

“You act as if I wasn’t satisfied with what I was doing before,” he retorted, voice low and face right above yours. 

“You were obviously wanting more. You were—I wanted to help because you kept. . . thrusting into the mattress,” you blinked up into his sultry glare. “I could tell—.”

“I was fucking the mattress because I loved getting to tongue fuck the hell out of your perfect pussy,” he snapped. 

Your body tingled at his words. This man. 

But you didn’t want your desire to please him to be ignored. You reflected the glare that was still shading his features. “Why do you always have to get your way?” You argued.

He huffed, “My way?” He went down to bite the inner curve of your right breast. You moaned, feeling your nipples harden even more at the sensation. He continued his way down your body, “If I would have had my way this wouldn’t be—," You thrusted up into his stiff dick again. You smirked when he bit his lip, eyes closing to stave off your distraction. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Fuck, y/n,” his eyes bore into you, then he worked his way down to where he was, once again, settled between your legs. He gave you one lick up your folds. You whispered his name, shaking. So sensitive. So delicious. “Have I wanted your mouth on my dick for a long ass time? Fuck yes. But I’ve also wanted this again. Give me this. I want this.”

“Jake, you don’t have to say that just becau—.”

He closed his eyes and groaned. “Can you not fucking argue with me for once?” 

“Can you just fucking listen to me? I want to make sure you—.”

He forcefully entered you with one finger, his thumb reaching up to rub over your hard clit. You threw your head back, looking down at him with lust clouding your vision. You wanted to be angry with him for interrupting you, but dammit . . . you just couldn’t be. 

He pumped it in and out a few times before putting the finger in his mouth, closing his eyes and moaning. “You taste so fuckin’ delicious, baby.”

His usage of the pet name made your brain short circuit for a few seconds, but you got distracted from it because suddenly, his face was back, right above yours. His forearms caged you in, on either side of your head. His hair was draping around you like a curtain. It felt so familiar. . .so wonderful.

And now, you knew it was about to happen. 

You felt the head of his cock at your entrance, just as you had at Baby’s. 

But this time. . .this time it was different. So different. You couldn’t pinpoint how or why—it just was.

You looked down to where your bodies were so close to finally connecting. When you looked into his eyes, you noticed he was waiting for you. 

For some reason, you felt as though he’d been studying your face while you were looking away. He seemed so content to simply be watching you, waiting for you, until you found his eyes. 

When your eyes met his, you saw the smile that filled his amber-brown irises. It was a sweet moment that felt like it would forever be locked in time. You stayed there, him above  you. And somehow, you knew he was waiting for permission. So, you nodded your head. 

And without a second thought, his eyes still honing in on yours, he entered you. 

You could’ve sang, you were so relieved to feel him like this. Finally. 

“So fucking tight,” he grunted, letting his tip meet your most secret spot inside. Ohhh yeah. You wanted to fuckin’ purr.

It had been awhile . . . and Jake had noticed by your tightness. But as he rolled his hips the slightest bit, helping you adjust, hitting you right where you needed him, deep inside—there was no questioning that the man knew what the hell he was doing. 

Just like your thoughts earlier tonight. . .he was a natural. 

You continued to wince a little, since he was so thick. It took a second to stretch to his size, and he let you, moving around enough from inside to help you. But he felt so damn good, you didn’t want to stay like that for too long. You needed more. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck, needing to feel closer to him. His hair tickled the back of your hand.

Though, when you’d looked back at his face, his eyes were stuck on you, seeming to be caught in a trance, a relaxed, loose grin fitting to his pink lips.

You moved your hips just a bit. He felt you move, and he seemed to come back, his eyes locking in on your lips. He gave into the urge, kissing you, letting his tongue explore your mouth briefly, you doing the same to his mouth.

Then, when you came up for air, breathing so hard, you shared this look. Such fondness behind the gaze. It was almost too much. But like all things with Jake, it felt right.

You played with the ends of his hair, where your arms were crossed at his back. Maybe you could stay like this forever. 

But then he moved out slowly, and pushed back into you, hard and to the hilt. You felt his balls hit the bottom of your ass and you almost crossed your eyes at the ecstasy of it all. 

He rocked into you like that a few more times, a little slower, moving steadily. 

Then he switched things up. 

He held your body up, his dick still firmly inside of you as he sat up on his knees, leaning back on his heels. He balanced your ass on his thighs and pushed a pillow up behind you, sitting you up, your back against the headboard. Your legs moved of their own accord to be on either side of his hips.  

The position had you completely open to him, as your legs were spread wide, his cock pulsing inside of you. He bit his lip, focusing. It was like he was admiring a piece of art, not able to take his eyes from it. Deep in thought. 

And all of a sudden, you felt extremely vulnerable. Every piece of you on full display, save for your backside which sat perfectly on his bare thighs. So, still. He had every piece of you open to him, around him, or on top of him.

You almost spoke, but he beat you to it. 

“You are so fucking beautiful, y/n. Dammit,” he said with awe laced beautifully in his raspy voice, hitched on his next words. “This is— you are . . .,” he shook his head, and was never able to come up with the words. Instead, he just continued to let his eyes graze over you.

You felt your entire body heat at his words, the intimacy of all this. You felt emotional hearing the words, being like this with him. It was the most open and vulnerable you’d felt with a man in a long time (maybe ever), and he was seeming to treasure it just as much as you. 

His hands held your waist as you tangled a hand in his hair, and looped one arm over his shoulders - both of your chests heaving, needy.

He then brought you forward, until your clit was positioned to rub right below his belly button. You gasped at the full change in position, his cock as deep as it could go. You used the new angle as leverage and went onto the pads of your feet, raising off of him briefly, and then you slowly sank back down onto his throbbing length.

The moan he let out was heavenly. It made you feel like you were on top of the world, the way his mouth hung open. You continued to rise, and sink back down. Long and slow motions that helped you both to feel all of each other. Once you got more confident, you started swiveling your hips as you started to bounce on top of him. 

After a few more swings of your hips, he used his hold on your waist and lifted you off of him. 

You unabashedly let out a small cry at the loss of him inside you, but you moved with him. You positioned yourself to be on all fours, ass facing him— going with his motions and assuming that’s what he wanted. 

The hiss you heard leave his mouth when you were in position, and the way he kneaded your plush ass cheeks with his calloused fingertips made you smirk with victory. You knew exactly what he wanted. 

“You like that?” You breathed at him, wiggling your round ass at him, grinding back on his hardness. You felt him quiver at your movement. Then you felt a hard smack against your right asscheek. “Fuck— Jake!”

He soothed the spot, massaging it the slightest bit, and before you had time to fully process the first hit, he went in for another slap on the other cheek. 

You jolted with a squeak, surprised, but fully welcoming it. 

Fuck yeah. Did he like things rough? If so, you were here for it. 

Tossing your hair over your shoulder, you pointedly made eye contact with his hooded gaze. He had a knowing smirk on his face, matching your own expression. 

He gave you two more slaps, one for each side, and this time you felt the cold metal of his rings with the hits. Oh fuck. 

You pushed back on him, wanting more. His thick cock, snug between your sore cheeks at this angle. 

But instead, he flipped you to lay on your back again. Where was this strength coming from? Dear God. 

How easily he maneuvered your body, wherever he wanted it to go. . . You bit your lip. Fuck. It was like you were his little instrument, moving you every which way, like he threw his guitar behind his head so effortlessly—that was you right now. 

Your core convulsed at the thought. 

Jake set an arm next to your head, and the other above, almost cradling it to not hit the headboard. Then he sunk his pulsing dick into your waiting, dripping cunt. At this point, you were getting fairly acquainted with his size, so you grabbed his perfectly round backside, burying him the deepest he could be in you. 

You also used this position to sway your hips up, each stroke on his dick intentional. Throwing in a little trick of yours, you tightened your muscles to grip his length with each roll of your hips, making him fit even more snug, inside of you. 

“Oh baby,” he groaned at the feeling, the first time you did it. And after a few more, he tapped your hip. “If you don’t stop, I’m not gonna last.”

He was trembling above you. His arm was shaking next to your head. 

“Y/n, baby—fuck,” he grunted, tapping at your hip harder. He wasn’t ready to be done. Neither were you. So you tapped him right back, motioning for him to move off of you. 

After he’d moved, you went to lay partially on your side and partially on your belly. You lifted your ass to indicate you were ready. And in one smooth move, his chest was against your back, his arms back where they were before, but in the new position. He slowly slid in, feeling out the new angle. 

You loved it. One of your new favorites. 

“I love this fuckin’ view of you, y/n,” he groaned, his breath hitting your shoulder. “And the way you feel like this—goddamn.”

He was filling you up, all the way, except this time, you had the combined feeling of him inside, while his smooth sac hit your pussy with each languid pump of his hips. 

You watched how his bicep and fist flexed at the same time, with each thrust, so purposeful. 

Damn him for being so sexy.

His hips started moving quicker, almost of their own accord. And before you knew it, he was pounding into you, his balls slapping hard against you. 

The sounds—the way it felt— perfection.

Your toes curled. Ecstasy. He kept hitting your hidden spot inside; your clit was getting friction from his sheets; and the back of your pussy was getting attention, too. Fuck. This position was going in the books.

Without warning, you felt the arm next to you move, his hand going to sweep swift circles on your swollen bundle of nerves.

“Jaaaake,” you whined, sounding completely pathetic. Sweat was beading at your forehead. Your folds were spasming, your pussy ready to let go. “Fuck, baby.”

You couldn’t hold it anymore. All of it combined—the loud slaps of flesh, the sweat, his hand, the pressure of his pretty dick stretching your tender pussy- hitting every part of you—damn.

You came for the second time that night with a curl from your hands and toes, and a loud sob.

“Doing so good, y/n,” he pushed his chest closer to your back, feeling your release against his hand and helping you ride the wave. And all of a sudden, his hips started rutting, so erratically against your ass, his dick pulsing inside with each roll of his hips. “I’m gonna—where do you—fuck! Y/n—.”

Shit. You almost forgot. You weren’t on the pill. You’d just gone off a few months ago. Shit shit shit shit.

Momentarily snapping from your hazy afterglow, you grasped his hip. “Dammit—on my back!” 

Thankfully, he pulled out in time, and with a small moan from his perfect lips, hot spurts of his cum met your back, shiny from sweat. 

After, he laid above you, one shaking arm still above you, the other now holding your tummy. Okay, now you hated this position. You couldn't easily flip to see his face. And you wanted to see him.

He made quick work of reaching for his T-shirt from earlier to clean off your back. 

“Wanna see your face,” he sighed, rubbing at your shoulder. 

You grinned at the sentiment, wanting so desperately to see him, too. So, you rolled onto your back, letting an arm fall above your head, and the other lay across your stomach, replacing where his had been. In a daze, you watched him as he cleaned up his cock, still glistening from your climax. 

Changing your line of sight, you let yourself watch his face as he cleaned himself. His lips were slightly parted, his top lip curled a bit to show some of his top row of teeth. He was focused. And damn he looked good like that. 

But you already knew that. 

Finally, he was done, and he threw the shirt over the side of the bed, joining the pile of clothes on the ground. 

He went to lay just as you had, but with extended an arm for you to curl into.

You should have left. Gone back to your room. You’d gotten what you wanted.

And this was wrong. If it went too far, it could seriously hurt Jake. Make Josh impossibly angry with you for corrupting his brother. . .

But before you could even begin to move, focus too hard on any reasonable thought whatsoever, your head filled with Elsie’s voice, wise with the conversation you’d had that day, in the entryway. 

“I’m saying. . .what if it’s possible he could just want you in his bed and nothing else?” She’d scratched her head. “Would that hurt anything or anyone? I mean, you’ve made it seem to me that you don’t really have any emotional attachment to him. So if you did that, who would it hurt?”

You glanced up at his face, his eyes drooping to follow the sleep you were also craving. His lids fluttered against his smooth skin - his sharp features. Yeah, you were good on that, still . . . no emotional attachment. But he was nice to look at.

Your voice from that day sprang to your mind, fighting.

“Elsie, that’s a stupid plan that could go horribly wrong,” she’d gasped at your insult to her idea. And you’d leveled her with a stare. “And you know it.”

“I do, I do,” she’d reassured. “But what if you just cut it off when it starts to feel like too much?”

You looked to his hands, drumming mindlessly against his hard, tanned stomach. His mouth hummed an unknown tune. You wanted to sink into him. But you knew you could cut it off. You were a pro at that.

“You think I could do that?” You hadn’t been able to believe you were actually starting to give substance to her idea in your head. 

(And here you were doing it again.)

“You’re pretty damn good at burying things right down to the pits of hell, so. . .,” She’d blinked at you, almost innocently with her savage plan leaving her lips. “What’s the harm in giving it a shot? I mean, just one time, at least?”

So, you used your sister’s words from the past as your pass to let yourself be exactly where you wanted to be right now: in his warm, safe, strong arms. It had been now one time. You'd given it a shot. . .

But what if . . .?

And just as you settled into him, your cheek resting on his toned pec, his heart beating steadily underneath, you heard the last of Elsie’s words from that conversation, inspiring you even more to do this. 

To force some substance on this otherwise ridiculous, horrible idea. 

She’d glanced to the side, letting her eyes wander mysteriously for a second. “I think it would be good for you to live on the edge. Just once.” 

And that was all you needed in that sweet, quiet moment, letting yourself cozy up, right into Jake’s chest. . .feeling him kiss the crown of your head. 

Tomorrow could worry about itself.

Because right now? Right now, you were the most blissed out - the most comfortable you’d ever been. 

You weren’t fucking ready to lose this yet, dammit.

And as you drifted off, seconds later, his soft snores lulling you peacefully, you could only hope that he wasn’t ready to lose this—whatever the hell this was—yet, either. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

a/n: i'm so ready to share what's coming... i wish i could tell you guys (gn)!! it's killingggg me. anywayssss... please let me know your thoughts! you know i love hearing from you all :) &lt;3

(I will say, I've been giving sporadic hints from the first chapter of what's to come. . . hmmm. who thinks they can guess what's going to turn Reader's life upside down?)

if you’d like to be added to the taglist, please let me know!

& as usual, it wouldn’t let me tag some of y’all. :( so please check to see that you’re down there because if you’ve asked to be on the taglist, i tried to tag you. buuuut tumblr wouldn’t let me do it for everyone 🙃 ugh. and if i somehow forgot to tag someone, please also let me know that! (i'm a NOOB and i have terrible memory)

Taglist: @joshym, @gretavanfleetposts, @alyson814, @fretaganvleet, @lallisonl, @writingcold, @gvfpal, @twinszka, @jessicafg03, @reesetrippingthelight, @sacredjake, @laurenlovesgretavanfleet, @gretavangroove, @222headedcalf, @dreamssingold, @carbondancingthroughtime, @raviolilegs, @way-to-go-lad, @jakekiszkasmommy, @katgvf, @objectsinspvce, @jaketlover, @vanfleeter, @thetroublegetssloud71, @seditabets, @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface, @jaketlove, @ohgodthefeeling-gvf, @starcatcher-jake, @anythingforjtk, @lucimoo, @indigostreakmorgan, @gretavanbear, @katelynn-gvf, @alwaysonthemend, @aintthatapity, @bowievanfleet, @fwzco, @takenbythemadness, @cherry-icecreamsmile, @laneygvf

#jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka smut #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fanfic #jake fic #jake kiszka #covet #my fics

[gabessquishytum]

Dream hates summoning rituals, and even if he didn’t he has no idea where humans got the idea that he wants virgin sacrifices. He’s tried removing any trace of instructions on how to summon him, or at least get the word out that he doesn’t want any human sacrifices, virgin or otherwise. But every time, some group of worshippers, cult, or magical ne’er-do-wells finds some lost tome describing the ritual, and every one of these lost tomes claim the importance of having a virgin sacrifice.

This time, the virgin in question is nearly enough to tempt Dream; a gorgeous young hirsute man in revealing silks, bound to an altar, looking up at him with beguiling brown eyes. But no, Dream sticks to the by-now routine: get rid of the summoners, release the sacrifice—who introduces himself as Hob Gadling as he earnestly thanks the god for the rescue—and check that he is unharmed, then leave, hoping against hope that somehow this is in fact the last time.

But then when Dream is in fact summoned again, the virgin sacrifice just so happens to be Hob Gadling again. Weird, but whatever. Dream releases him once more, perhaps teases him a little for the repeated circumstances, and leaves again.

And then it happens again. And again, and again. When Dream asks, Hob swears that he’s not doing this on purpose, that these different people just keep grabbing him on his travels.

(While Hob is telling the truth, what he doesn’t say is that since meeting Dream, he might’ve stopped taking quite so many precautions around known cultist areas, and after he’s been grabbed he might stop trying to escape or fight them off once he’s sure it’s Dream they’re sacrificing him to)

Finally, after getting rid of his captors for the umpteenth time, Dream informs him that this would stop happening if Hob just got rid of his virgin status.

Hob immediately responds: “Are you offering to help with that?”

-🪽anon

I have this mental image of Hob sexily posing on a sacrificial altar with a rose between his teeth. He isn't even tied down. The cult members didn't even want to sacrifice him - they were planning to use a goat. But when Dream shows up he can't help but roll his eyes affectionately when Hob is like "omg we have to stop meeting like this!!!!"

The obvious solution is indeed to take away Hob’s virginity. In response to Hob’s question, Dream begins to provide a list of people who he thinks might be interested in deflowering Hob - "Well, my sibling Desire has never been known to turn down a willing partner. I also know a mage close to this village who often takes lovers. Or perhaps I could take you to a larger settlement for a better selection of candidates..."

Hob glares at him. He's not looking for other candidates. He wants Dream. Fortunately for him... Dream was only teasing.

It has been a very long time since Dream had a virgin all to himself. Hob is magnificent. His skin is soft and perfectly hairy, and his legs are strong and thick as he bounces himself energetically on Dream’s cock. He's perfect in every way and now he belongs body and soul to Dream for as long as he chooses to live. Hob moans loudly that he's going to live forever, and Dream believes him.

Now they rescue virgin sacrifices together. And reminisce about the way their eyes met as Hob wiggled against his restraints on the altar. Maybe they indulge in a little roleplay, when the rescued sacrifice has been released and set on the right path to the nearest village... Hob does just look so good all tied up!

#🪽 anon #the sandman #dreamling #nsft

[throneofsapphics]

Hey! I would loovee a part two of ‘Theirs’, maybe where reader pulls away from nessian because she doesn’t trust them (especially intimately) after what happened

And they’re just in agony but realise if they act the way they did before, they might lose her forever

I’m a sucker for angst with a happy ending😅 (if you want)

theirs part two 

Nessian x f!Reader

(part one)

Summary: Everything came crashing out, the flood gates opened. “Is there a way to fix this? I felt violated, hurt, and neither of you even bothered to ask.”

Warnings: some angst, discussions of SA/dubcon, not proofread

A/N: thank you for requesting it! sorry it took so long, this is a bit shorter and kinda went off script

The next morning, both of them acted as if nothing was wrong. Like it was another ordinary day with the events of the previous night washed clean. You couldn’t wash that fear out of your memory. Sure there was arousal present, but the entire night had not sit right with you. Still, you kept a smile on your face and kept up the pretense. Mainly because you didn’t know what else you could dol. You didn’t find your own release that night either. Maybe they didn’t know, or were trying to punish you. Either way, it didn’t matter right now. 

Cassian leaned in for a kiss as he left, he was already running late, but you turned your head, letting him leve one on your cheek. He frowned at you but didn’t time to question it as he took off. You let out a slow breath as he flew away. He hadn’t the time to question it and you planned it that way. Nesta wasn’t present either, and you know she would’ve had questions. She’d always been particularly observant. 

You tried to put up a good front, but after a week Nesta finally brought it up. 

“What’s wrong?” It was just the two of you, in the library. 

“Nothing,” you said shortly, returning your focus to your book. She snatched it from your hands, marking your page and setting it aside. 

“Talk to me.” Her words were a plea, almost begging. “You’ve barely kissed or touched either of us all week, haven’t spoken much - you’re turning into a ghost.” 

You didn’t know how to answer her, what kind of words would actually explain it. Nesta waited not-so-patiently, but she could see you were thinking and held her tongue. “That night, after Rita’s,” you spoke quietly. “Put yourself in my shoes.” 

Anything else, you might’ve burst into tears and left her to her thoughts, searching for a place you could find some peace and solace. 

You knew Nesta would speak to Cassian about it, and they’d likely try to find you after dinner - you’d taken to eating somewhere else, feigning work to do. 

Sure enough, they showed up and you ended up in one of the cozier sitting areas. 

“I thought you enjoyed it,” Nesta started. 

“My body did …” you took a few deep breaths, calming yourself. “But I didn’t feel safe.” 

“Why didn’t you say something?” Cassian countered. 

“You didn’t give me a chance,” you snapped at him. 

Nesta’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry.” Out of all things, you never expected Nesta to apologize to you. Actually, you’re not certain you’ve heard those words come out of her mouth before. “How do we fix this?” 

Everything came crashing out, the flood gates opened. “Is there a way to fix this? I felt violated, hurt, and neither of you even bothered to ask.” Your breathing grew heavy, fists clenched, a tightness in your chest.” 

“A safeword.” Nesta blurted out. 

“It’s not just about sex,” you snarled, “I was having fun. FInally introducing you to my friends, and you couldn’t wait til the Gods-damned night was over before dragging me out.” 

You left the room, any longer and you might’ve said something you would truly regret. 

It took months for them to earn your trust back. So many discussions on boundaries, and you could tel they were really trying. They asked to meet your friends again, in a different setting, and you relented. If there was any jealousy, they kept it firmly under wraps. You loved them, with all of your heart, and managed to trust again, to let them back in. 

#nessian x y/n #nessian x reader #acotar fic #acotar imagine #acotar x reader #poly!nessian x y/n #poly!nessian x reader #poly!nessian #cassian x y/n #cassian x reader #nesta archeron x y/n #nesta archeron x reader

[ronearoundblindly]

Dominance & Sleepy Sex for Fools Rush In Steve! <3

Loved your most recent one with Curtis btw 😘🖤

💜💚💜

Thank you! I'm so glad you enjoyed Curtis's dirty headcanon (for the legit-dirty man).

Now to FRI Steve, the tricky and ever-growing love of my life! Prompts from this dirty ask game.

While there are several stories in the Fools Rush In series that are suitable for all ages, this headcanon is not. MINORS DNI, please.

D - Dominance

This is a story of a very slow evolution. Steve develops excruciatingly over months and years in the FRI series--which I do love, for the record, I love to detail every little thing that makes him understand his body, his love, and how to show it--but that's for a reason.

He has the specific problem of his senses. It makes him a better soldier to feel less, be more immune to pain, and be affected very little by those hormone fluctuations in response.

Throughout Do You Two Fondue? and This All Day, we see him come into his own as a sexual partner. That blossoms further when he's finally married to Keeps (unlocking his first kink, sorta, when he gets to call you 'Mrs. Rogers' and 'my wife'), and throughout his isolation in Dignity of His Choice, Steve realizes he's not terrible for having fantasies and wanting sex.

He's...slow to initiate anything.

What I haven't gotten to write yet is Steve being exposed to a Hydra gas (sex pollen) that reduces him to his basest, most animalistic desires, and it takes a lot of therapy and talking to shake his learned-shame. He's been conditioned to believe things like dominance and anal can only ever be wrong/disrespectful to the one he loves. (It's important to specify that Steve holds himself to this standard and no one else.)

So, please enjoy a snippet where our soft!boi admits that he might be interested in more than his so-far-pretty-vanilla intimacies.

excerpt from Not A Perfect Soldier But A Good Man

“It’s still you and me, Steve. Doesn’t matter where and it doesn’t matter how. I feel just as safe and loved now as I did before. I know you think you hurt me, but I can’t watch you hurt yourself anymore.” “But I remember it.” His voice is so quiet you think he can barely hear it, but you’re so focused. Your hands cup his face and raise his jaw, but Steve won’t look at you. “We remember a lot of things th—“ “You don’t understand,” he interrupts, the words wet from his closing throat, his long lashes shimmering with tears he’s straining to keep squeezed in. “I…”  There’s a beat before Steve sobs one huge release and reins it back in just as fast. The whiplash of keeping himself together forces him to his knees, planting him right at your feet.  He grabs your legs, pressing his forehead to your closed thighs. “I liked it,” he whispers, likely hoping he’s too far away and too quiet for you to hear. “God help me. I liked it.”

FRI Steve never becomes what I would classify as a Dom, however. He gets better at initiating and steering sex in a way he's excited about, but I can't see him regularly and entirely taking the lead in bed.

S - Sleepy Sex

The short answer: yes.

He gets much more comfortable with the slow and easy enjoyment of morning sex.

Please enjoy another snippet from the upcoming tale about soulmarks:

excerpt from Something Wrong Is Something Right

He drags a light few fingertips across your arm, making you shiver and snuggle into him more. There’s another faint whine before you bury your head in his pec and breathe deeply. Your heart rate increases. So does his. It’s a testament to how in-sync you two are now that before you even say a word or look up at him, your arm slides down his abs and you rock your hips closer to him. Ok, now Steve’s just plain excited. He loves morning sex. Tired-You turns into a rag doll in his arms and gets loud. He feels powerful and a touch controlling, but really it doesn’t take much to get both of you off even lazily when it’s this early. You let out that little sigh, the one that pairs with the perfect hug, but as Steve has learned over the years, it really pairs with any genuine embrace between you two. It’s contentment and freedom and the invitation he’s all too willing to receive.

(I couldn't fit it in because the snippet would be too long, but one thing I just melt over is that he's categorized your scent between three levels of arousal...which, I mean, oh my, fucking swoon, am I right??? No? Ro's a perv? Ok, yeah, that checks out.)

Steve does not usually wake you up already between your legs or anything; that's a bit aggressive for him. Like, he'll rub on you but won't put his tongue or cock in you until you're aware enough to look at him.

He's been given consent to, several times, but he enjoys the participation--sharing the experience--more than just the act of getting off.

Since in FRI, Steve is a super soldier, it's unlikely he's ever completely asleep if you are significantly moving around, so you can't surprise him with a blowjob. He is finicky about those. Again, that feels impersonal and distant compared to having his arms around you.

He goes for runs so early that Steve's amazed you two have as much morning sex as you do. It turns out that's a great way to make you tired enough to fall back asleep, and you can spread out happily on his still-warm spot while he heads to the gym. You can even shower with him when he returns! Yay!

Thank you for asking!

[Main Masterlist; Dirty Asks Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

This completes the TWENTY-SIX dirty asks from the past week. WOOHOOOOOO, we did it, gang!!! Now right back to the drawing board/notebook/multiple scrivener projects...anyway, you get it. Thanks for reading 💕

#ro answers #dirty asks #ask game #steve rogers fanfiction #fools rush in series #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fic #steve rogers headcanon #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader smut #steve rogers angst #steve rogers x you #captain america fanfiction #captain america x reader #captain america x you

[skzdreamz]

Hiii Could I please request smut with Hyunjin, in which he has a curvy girlfriend and this might sound weird but she’s really insecure about her bottom being big and he shows her how much he appreciates her ^^ ❤️

thank you for the request <3 I tried my best, hope you enjoy!!

Cake - Hwang Hyunjin

pairing: softdom!Hyunjin x fem!reader warnings: pet names, cussing, unprotected sex, fingering word count: 0.8K

~

you have always been a bigger girl and that came with having a big ass. you didn’t think much of it, but the older you became, the more anxious you were. you started to wear oversized clothes to cover it and you always avoided turning your back to people. it has even gotten to the point that you feel anxious about leaving the house.

as much as you hate having a big bum, your boyfriend Hyunjin does nothing but appreciate it. whether it’s giving your ass a quick pat when you need to move or his intrusive thoughts just win when you walk past him. he can’t help slapping or touching your ass whenever you’re with him.

the dress you’re were wearing today didn’t make it any easier for Hyunjin. your ass bouncing with every step you made. and you pulling down your dress over and over again to prevent exposing your ass to your boyfriend.

you catch him staring the whole time and it made you nervous. all the negative thoughts flooding your mind. Hyunjin seemed to notice, because he made sure to compliment you every time you walk past him.

and that’s the exact reason why you’re here now, on all fours, back arching and ass up in the air waiting for Hyunjin to finally insert his cock in your cunt. all the patting and ‘innocently’ caressing of your ass made you embarrassingly horny. you’re glad he was just as horny as you were. well, what did you expect when you’re wearing the shortest dress in your closet.

“Hyun… please do something” you whine. your ass wiggling a bit as the words leave your mouth. you feel embarrassed to be in this exact position in front of him. no matter how many times he tells you he loves your bum, you can’t help but feel conscious about it. being here in front of him with your ass on full display made you nervous.

he caresses you cheeks softly squeezing them every now and then. your slick is dripping from your cunt at this point and you would do anything to just lay on your back and have him fuck your brains out.

he’s practically drooling seeing you like this. “fuck.. do you have any idea how sexy you look right now?” he groans. you try to close your legs to relieve the ache between your legs, but a loud smack on your ass makes you stop your movements.

“come on now baby, just tell me what you want” he lets his finger travel from your ass to your cunt. slowly letting one finger slide through your wet folds. “do you need me here? or…” he places a finger on your clit, putting some pressure on your sensitive bud. “.. here?” you moan as he starts circling your clit.

the pressure and the pace of his finger moving on your clit made you see stars. you’re finally getting the pleasure you’ve been waiting for and he never disappoints you in pleasuring you.

before you can reach your high, Hyunjin pulls his fingers out of you. bringing his slick coated fingers to his mouth to taste all of you. he hums, satisfied with the way you taste. “daddy will make you feel good now, okay?”

before you can respond you feel him entering you. his thick cock sliding through your velvet walls, making you clench around him. he let’s you adjust to his size before picking up his speed. his hips snapping into yours, making your ass jiggle with every thrust. the sight of it turning him on even more.

you feel his dick twitch indicating he’s close to his release. “god, you’re so hot” he groans as he watches how his cock slides in and out of you. he grabs a hold of your cheeks, giving each one a harsh slap every now and then. the slapping and the deep thrusts send you over the edge. your cunt clamping down on his dick, making him lose his sanity.

he fucks you through your orgasm, picking up his speed even more. the sound of his hips smacking against your ass, the bouncing of your cheeks with every thrust and the loud moans leaving your mouth eventually send him over the edge as well. warm liquid filling you to the brim, making you feel so full of him.

he stills for a moment catching his breath before pulling out. you’re laying face down into the pillow trying to come back to reality. he softly caresses your skin, of course stopping at your ass a little longer than the rest of your body.

“never hide from me okay?”

~

Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist <3

taglist: @softyoogi @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @sillyrabbit76 @luvshuu @stray-kids-smut1246

#hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #stray kids #stray kids smut #skz #skz smut #skz fluff #skz fanfic #skzdreamz #hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin smut #stray kids fluff

[lilliejareau]

Forbidden Love

A Jemily One-Shot

Written by: lilliejareau

Author's Note: this was originally going to be for my 1k celebration post but I unfortunately wasn't able to finish writing on time. But I have finished today and I hope you all enjoy this, though it is quite emotional.

Please be kind because I have not posted anything I have written publicly since 2021/2022 because I am very self-critical of my work. Thank you and enjoy! (ps, I don't have gifs and stuff, sorry!)

Word Count: 1,743

(I know it's pretty long, but I got so into it!)

Summary: When JJ marries the love of her life, Emily comes to accept the fact that she has to let hers go.

—

"Are you alright?"

Emily inhaled sharply, startled out of her thoughts. It was JJ who asked the question, standing there in her beautiful bridal dress, reminding Emily of what she lost. Emily's head tilted slightly, her lips pulled upward but not quite showing her teeth.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

JJ did a sort of smile. "You're out here all alone? I figured you'd gone inside like the rest of us."

The dancing had ended moments ago, everyone had gone inside to enjoy the rest of the party as it simmered down. Everyone except Emily who had lingered out on the dance floor with a glass of champagne thinking about the memories she had with the team over the years. She thought about JJ and the 'what-ifs'. She was so incredibly happy for and proud of JJ for finding her true love and having everything she deserved. Having hidden feelings for JJ didn't stop Emily from being delighted for her.

Emily had never loved, hadn't truly loved until she met JJ. By the time she understood and accepted that love, accepted who she was, and what that meant, it was much too late. Her heart ached terribly as the reality set in that she should no longer love JJ. It wasn't fair for either of them. JJ had Will and for years, Emily watched the couple fall in love and develop their relationship into more than what Emily had ever had with somebody before.

Yet, even after all that time, all those years, her forbidden love for JJ never really went away.

Emily shrugged in response to JJ's observation, trying to come off as nonchalant but when she looked up to meet those blue eyes she'd fallen for long ago, she knew that JJ could tell something was up with her. She cursed herself for not hiding it better.

"What's going on in that head of yours?" JJ inquired, eyes slightly narrowed but showed nothing but concern for her friend. Reaching out, she went to take Emily's hand in her own but the brunette pulled away, seemingly against her own will. A strange reaction to a familiar gesture. Something was wrong. "Emily?"

"JJ, I..." Emily tore her eyes away from those blue ones she'd fallen for all those years ago. She knew what she felt for JJ was wrong, that what she was about to say had a possibility of hurting more than keeping it bottled up. 

"Em, what is it? You can tell me anything, you know that."

"I love you." the words were regretful and rushed, and one quick breath released what she had bottled up for years. There truly was no going back now. Before JJ could respond, Emily held out a hand to stop her. "You don't have to say anything, I'm not asking you to, but I do love you. I think I always have."

A very long silence filled the air, not only tension but something else that neither could name. A moment and a breath of composure later, JJ's shockingly calm voice filled the silence.

"I know, Emily."

Emily's heart beat rapidly in her chest. "You know?"

JJ gave a slow nod. "Back then, God, I was so blind. I had feelings for you, Emily. I did. But by the time I realized what those feelings were... It took me years to finally understand what I felt for you was love." JJ's eyes shone with emotion and Emily's guilt only grew. 'But I love Will. God, I love Will. And Henry, too. They're my family, Emily, and what we had, what we felt back then...it's gone now. I do have love for you. I love you so, very much, just not in the way you want me to. Not anymore."

Emily knew this would be the rational outcome the moment she opened her mouth and said those words, but that didn't mean it wouldn't hurt. It hurt so terribly, even if she knew and expected JJ's response to be nothing short of rejection.

"I know," she tearfully admitted, voice quiet, barely a whisper. She couldn't look at JJ, her eyes focused on the previously forgotten glass of Dom Perignon she held. She felt like an idiot for admitting feelings she should have never spoken aloud, to begin with. And on JJ's wedding day nonetheless. What was she thinking? The relief of releasing bottled-up feelings wasn't enough to overshadow the guilt. 

"I love him, Em, he's my everything. That's my truth and I know this should be the part where I say that I wish I could change that, but I don't. I wouldn't have Henry, my life with Will, I wouldn't have any of what I have now. I know this hurts you, especially coming from me right now, but it's too late for anything more than what you and I already have. You're still my best friend, Emily, and you will always be. That's not going to change."

Emily nodded and finally met JJ's eyes again as a tear slid down her cheek. "I didn't tell you this in hopes of some sort of fairy tale ending. I love you, yes, but you're right, we're best friends. Nothing more. We had our chance and never saw it, it's over now. I just couldn't keep it in any longer. I've been wanting to tell you for a long time. I honestly didn't plan on telling you tonight, I guess it's just the perfect timing, huh?" Emily rolled her eyes at her poor attempt at lightening the mood and shook her head.

JJ didn't say anything, and it was probably better that way. Emily didn't expect an answer. The blonde simply gave her friend a sad smile, leaned in, and hugged her tightly. Emily embraced her back almost immediately. This would be their last hug before she left for London; their last moment alone together. It was very emotional for more reasons than the one.

The hug remained as Emily's mind drifted to the eye contact she and JJ held while the bride shared a dance with her new husband. For JJ, that shared eye contact was about Prentiss leaving for London soon, knowing her best friend was moving to an entirely different country shortly after that very night. But for Emily, it meant so much more. She'd lost her and for good this time. It was over and as painful as it was, it was for the best. JJ had a happy family, a husband, and a beautiful little boy.

It had once been a dream of Emily's that she would settle down and have a family of her own, a husband or a wife, a child or two. But as the years went on, she watched her dream fade away as it became a reality for the woman she loved, the hardest part being that it wasn't with her.

Now she just needed to come to terms with that.

"Thank you for telling me," JJ whispered, holding onto the embrace just a bit longer before pulling away. She could see the pain in those brown eyes and it broke her heart. She studied them longer, seeing the guilt. "I don't want you to feel guilty for admitting what you feel."

"JJ–"

"You don't choose who you fall in love with," JJ interrupted, watching as Emily's eyes recognized those words as they welled up with tears. "Those were your words, Em. I'm glad you told me and maybe in some...parallel universe, we wouldn't be as blind as we were."

"Maybe," Emily softly repeated, bringing up a hand to wipe her cheek. "You're not...disgusted by me?"

"Emily, no," JJ was quick to assure, grasping her friend's hand tightly. "It took courage to tell me what you did, I don't know if I ever could've done it."

"But it's you're wedding day."

"Yeah," JJ nodded. "It is, but what's done is done and there's no changing that. We might not be on the same page when it comes to who we love, but I can assure you that I am proud of you, not disgusted. I don't think I could ever be revolted by you, Em."

"Yeah?" Emily tearfully whispered, looking into JJ's eyes for a sign of reassurance.

JJ smiled. "Yeah."

A touching silence fell upon them as a song played faintly in the background from inside, a familiar melody that both of them knew.

"Em?" 

"Hm?"

"Dance with me?"

The brunette was slightly caught off guard by the offer, her lips withholding a response. She had always been so certain that after she told JJ her secret, the blonde wouldn't have wanted to be anywhere near her. Instead, JJ was being as kind of a friend as always and asked Emily to dance. It seemed like such an innocent gesture but to Emily, it was more. It was closure instead of more heartache, and that was something she never expected to have.

"Yes."

JJ took the champagne glass and set it aside, taking Emily's hand in her own and leading them to the center of the dance floor, both women sharing a sad smile as their eyes met, hands interlocked.

This was the end, the end of an era, the end of what could have been, and the beginning of a new journey for both. A journey where Emily would move on, and JJ would remain happy in her family life, content with what she had. Both were certain at that moment that no matter what, their friendship would always be a strong foundation.

For the first time that night, Emily smiled softly, looking into those blue eyes that would be a memory from now on, not a constant reminder. She would no longer look into those eyes and feel her heart ache, her stomach tighten, or that dreadful sense of longing. 

JJ was not hers, and she never would be, but at least she could leave with no regrets, the weight off her chest, and a clear conscious. She still loved JJ, and that would never change, but now she knew things she never knew before.

As they held onto each other and slowly swayed to the music, JJ's soft, quiet voice uttered words Emily had longed to hear in a much different manner.

"I love you, Emily. Always."

Emily repeated, her voice just as soft and quiet, words she meant with all her heart. "I love you, JJ. Always."

#jemily #jemily fanfic #jemily fanfiction #jennifer jareau x emily prentiss #emily prentiss x jennifer jareau #jennifer jareau x will lamontagne #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss fanfiction #jennifer jareau fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #cm #cm fanfiction #aj cook #paget brewster #one shot #short story #story #writing #jennifer jj jareau #jemily one shot #idiots in love #lesbian emily prentiss #feelings #feels #family

[bp-zb1fics]

My heart keeps on

pairing: na kamden x secret s/o reader

pronouns: none used

genre: canonverse  (finale), angst ish, fluff

tw/tags: long distance relationship, very emo in general, a lot of tears LIKE A LOT, you surprise kamden twice, citing ep 12 as my ref for all this, kinda secret relationship, realities of dating a trainee/idol, reunions so more emo, cuddles, cheek kissing, using a pic as a page break, yes the title is fr kam’s rap in switch ty for noticing 💜

wc: 2178

summary: kamden hasn’t seen you in over a year. you surprise him.

a/n this was supposed to be a gift fic for 101 followers but y'all are 200 now 😭😱 omg so thanks so much for supporting my little blog!!! I know this took a little longer than expected so thanks so much for patiently waiting! 💜Special thanks to the anon who sent me an ask about missing kamden and especially to @seok02 for giving me the motivation to finish this fic and kinda just helping me with the overall process 💜💜💜

check my pinned for more fics!

“Star Creator, we always thank you and love you!”

They wrap up the pajama party livestream, thanking the staff and staying to chat as the cameras are switched off. (Or so they think, lol)

“The vibe was pretty good,” Kamden tells Matthew. The other boy agreeing instantly.

“I think we were able to show new sides of ourselves.”

Suddenly the staff play a recording, surprising them all. It’s video messages from Star creators all over the world for them to watch. Kamden grabs a fluffy pillow as he watches everyone slowly get emotional. Seungeon cries. Zhang Hao cries. Yujin cries. Almost everyone is crying. 

Kamden gets a message from a fan in Norway, which is pretty cool. Then, something he never expected happens. He recognises your voice before he even realises it’s you.

“Kamden, annyeong~”

The pillow falls off his lap.

It’s you. It’s really you. You who he hasn’t been able to video call in a few days because of practice and your schedule and the time difference. He almost calls out your name but it sits tight in his throat, unable to reach you. 

You’re on screen, wearing one of the shirts you’ve stolen from him, holding onto the plushie he bought for you at that silly little shop after you insisted it looked like him. God, he hasn’t seen you in over a year.

“Dude, you okay?” Jay asks him softly.

He must look like an idiot, eyes blown wide, mouth slightly open, hanging onto every word that comes out of your mouth.

“I’ve been watching Boy’s Planet since the teasers were released. And you’ve always been my favourite.”

Kamden knows. You’ve been spamming your chat with him with all these little clips from the PR videos to the behind the scenes footage. Screenshots of you voting for him on the Mnet+ app, comments you’ve left on his fancam videos, even the funny memes you found of him on Twitter all greet him when he opens his phone after practice.

Hope my favourite trainee is doing well and staying healthy! Take care of yourself and know I’m always rooting for you! I love and miss you so much! Hoping for your debut!

Your messages are his favourite. And speaking of:

“I’ve made a little compilation of photos right here. I hope you like how I decorated them, I really tried my best~”

All the trainees ooh and ahh over the handmade album you bring up to the screen compiled with photos of him from the program and cute little notes and stickers. Kamden can’t move, can’t talk. 

Because that’s your album, the one you had insisted on starting when he and you began dating. He knows that if you flipped to the other pages, it would be full of photos of both of you, dates, anniversaries, birthdays, holidays, awards that either of you might have won, events that were important to you or him or both of you, everything carefully labelled. It was one of your favourite things to print out all the photos and he’d help you decorate them.

He can’t believe you kept that up after he left for Korea.

“You’ve stood out to me in every performance. You’re so talented and so many people are cheering you on so please remember to have confidence in yourself.” Your voice wavers a little towards the end of the sentence and as slight as it is, he catches that. He knows you.

Kamden only registers the wetness on his cheeks when the tears are already going, fast and furious. He reaches up, trying to dab them away gently with his sleeve. On screen, you blink rapidly and he knows you’re trying your best not to cry either. Even thousands of miles away, on a video you probably recorded weeks ago, you and him are still in sync. Maybe the rest of the trainees don’t see it but he does. Of course he does.

“I hope you take care of yourself always. Make sure to eat enough and get enough rest. I’ll be voting for you everyday so just do your best in practice and performing and us Star Creators will take care of the rest. We’ll support you so you can achieve your dream of debuting~”

To everyone else, you were just a particularly supportive fan. But to Kamden, you were his person, the one he was devoted to and he can’t help it, sobbing a little into his sleeve. Several pats on the back as the other trainees around him try to comfort him. He can’t help but cry even more. Why were you so far away? Why couldn’t you be here where he could hug you and kiss you and just be with you?

“Na Kamden hwaiting! Saranghae~”

That’s it. He turns and buries his face fully into his hands as if doing that would soak up all the tears that won’t stop coming. Matthew and Jay have scooted over, voices overlapping as they rub his shoulders and back and ask what’s wrong. Even Zhang Hao’s hovering a little on the side, equally concerned.

Maybe he’ll say something later, when there are no mics and no cameras. He’s been training for years and you’ve both agreed that in a career like the one he aspires to get into, keeping it quiet would be the best. Idols don’t date. Idols don’t have a significant other in a whole other country that they call when they can find free time. Even when it comes to casual conversation where there isn’t a camera directly trained on them, Kamden just doesn’t say anything.

They do ask him later. And when he says you’re a close friend he hasn’t seen in awhile, their faces light up in recognition. He leaves it at that.

You walk into the arena with a little trepidation. 

It’s all been a blur. Packing your things, flying to Korea, meeting up with Kamden’s mom and brother who have been kind enough to get you a ticket pass for the family section. Of course, he has no idea you’re even here.

You’re quite a bit more nervous about surprising him than you thought. While you’d give anything to see him again, it was a little risky in such a public venue with so many people watching and cameras everywhere filming almost any angle. Maybe you can be discreet enough if you do break down but Kamden’s on stage, the spotlights bright and on him. Fans are probably filming him on their own devices.

At this point, you’ll just have to trust your boyfriend to keep his reactions to a believable level. You don’t stand too close to his family, trying to keep your distance but also staying near enough that you’d be in the same general direction if Kamden glanced your way.

You end up on the side, along with a few other people who seem to be dressed as discreetly as you, masks on too. The looks you exchange seem to come to a general understanding of why you’re all here and who you’re here for.

Kamden doesn’t notice you when the Top 18 first file in. You don’t expect him to but you see him though. There’s a growing knot in your stomach, emotions welling up from actually seeing him not through a screen but so close that you could walk on stage and touch him. You don’t do that, of course. But still, he’s so near that it almost hurts not being able to throw yourself into his arms for a hug.

You’ve wanted this so much, especially after more than a year of not seeing him. But right now, you feel frozen. You only watch as they start getting into positions for the signal song. Fans are cheering, even the family members and friends of the trainees are calling out words of support. Still, your voice sticks to your throat, as much as you want to shout out, something keeps you from doing it.

Good thing Kamden’s brother does it for you. It probably surprises you and his mom more than it should but who can blame you when he almost never does that? Kamden’s surprised too, maybe it’s a twin thing but he immediately stands up straighter looking for where his brother’s voice is coming from.

And then he sees you.

His eyes meet yours and they widen considerably. His mouth even drops open a little. You’re smiling so much and you’re sure it shows from how your eyes crinkle, just a little glossy. But you’re not going to cry just yet. Instead, you wave at him. He can’t do much more than give a little wave back before they seem to be ready to start filming. 

Suddenly, your heart feels just a little lighter. You step back and watch him dance the signal song. You’ve seen him do it a thousand times, every time you stream his video. It feels so surreal, being able to see it like this, right in front of you. When the song ends, you see his eyes flick back in your direction, searching for your face. When he finds it, his expression brightens.

It’s amazing, watching someone you love do what they love. Sure, you’ve seen Kamden dance, you’ve gotten him to sing and even rap for you a little before. But it’s different with the stage and the lights and the crowd and he looks so comfortable there. You laugh when you see the Jelly Pop teaser, maybe you’ll get him to wear that dress again, just so you can get photos. The final song is almost bittersweet and you try your best but a few tears do slip out.

He’s messaged you about barely making it to the finale, you’ve monitored the program, watched his rank. You both know his chances are slim. But they’re possible. Still, he’s told you that he’s prepared for the equal possibility of not debuting. His company should have plans, he assured you. You watch him walk over to every one of his fellow trainees who’ve made it to debut, offering hugs and congratulating them. And as the number of spots dwindle, you keep your hopes up but you begin to accept it as well.

By the time they’ve called third, you watch as he walks over to Matthew, one of the trainees he’s closest with from what he’s told you. Maybe he lingers a little longer. Maybe you catch his eyes as he looks over. Hwaiting! You mouth, shaking your fists a little in encouragement. The emotions are swirling inside you. When the camera pans over to him, he’s teary eyed, covering his face the way he always does when he gets like that. You can’t help it. The emotions are starting to spill over and you breathe between the occasional tears.

After they announce the ninth place, everything suddenly starts moving so fast and so slow. They wrap up filming. The audience begins to file out. The cameras switch off one by one. You go backstage.

When he walks in, mic gone, still in that uniform that you keep teasing about, you don’t hold back. His arms wrap around you and you fall into him, holding him so tightly you wish you didn’t need to let go. And then both of you start crying.

“I missed you so much, Kam.” You’re holding onto the fabric of his jacket, gripping at it so desperately you’re almost afraid it might rip.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” He manages, his head somehow buried on your shoulder, tears soaking the cloth of your shirt.

“Surprise?” It comes out weak, a little shaky as you both laugh brokenly through your sobs.

“I can’t believe you’re here.” He holds you even tighter, like he’s afraid you might fade into thin air.

“I’ll be here for a while.” You tell him. “I wish I could’ve come sooner but-”

“It’s okay seriously, you’re here now.” If he squeezes you anymore, you feel like your heart might burst. “I’m so happy to see you.”

He goes back with you. There’s few brief introductions to Jay and Matthew and a few other trainees he’s grown close with, nudges and knowing looks and raised eyebrows. But it’s nothing to stress about, you manage to make it back under the radar.

You feel him watching you as you grab a few more things from your suitcase after both of you have showered and you’re wearing another one of his old shirts. Before you know it, your legs are tangled together, your head resting on his shoulder, your hands intertwined. 

“I don’t want to sleep,” he says quietly. “I don’t want to wake up and find out this is a dream and you aren’t here.”

“You aren’t dreaming, Kam.” You reassure him, lifting your head to kiss his cheek. Even in the privacy of this room, he blushes.

“Even if I didn’t make it, at least I have you.”

“You do, Kam. You always do.” And you know he will make it, one day.

#boys planet #boys planet fics #boys planet x reader #boys planet drabbles #boys planet mnet #kpop fics #boys planet 999 #kpop scenarios #boys planet fanfic #kpop imagines #kpop fanfics #kpop fanfic #na kamden #boys planet kamden #na kamden x reader #kamden fic #thanks for 200 followers 💜 #gift fic #bp-zb1 fics

[writingcold]

Hello!  Welcome to Chapter 7.2 and the Epilogue of CD&FE.  

Pairing: Jake X Female Reader 

Summary: This is an AU that starts with the release of GVF’s first EP, Black Smoke Rising, and follows along life paths over the course of twenty plus years.

Content warnings: A return to smut.  They are reunited and it’s like fireworks.  So, please be aware - mentions of alcohol, adult emotions and relationships, sex, oral, fingering, p in v, maybe some spanking, hair pulling maybe, anal play, language, strong language, you get the picture. Oliver Fucking Reed also makes a 30 second appearance.

Word Count: approx. 6.3K 

It’s here!  The end.  These two - @edgingthedarkness and @takenbythemadness have been so supportive through this whole bit.  Thank you one last time, ladies.  Love you.  And THE scene is finally here.  We were cackling over pet names during sex until it just fucking worked and we all just did a collective “holy shit”.  

CD&FE, Part 7.3:  Jake POV      

      I almost missed the final bow.  Josh belted out for me to stop as I was pretty much racing towards the stairs.  I knew I was rushing, but fuck that.  I had a flight in ninety minutes.  Randal promised he would have a car with my bag and my acoustic waiting and at the ready.  Somehow, he was able to get me on an earlier flight.  My whole mind was set on getting to Y/n.  The daily texts were not enough.  I needed her.  Now.  I needed to know that we were going to finally try.  

      The others were doing their post-show bickering and critique while I handed off my guitar and walked as fast as my rubbery legs could carry me towards the dressing rooms.  I could hear them calling for me, but I didn’t bother.  I was stripped out of my jacket and was kicking out of my boots by the time I shoved my way into my dressing room.  I had laid out clothes ahead of time.  I sped through cleaning up.  God that was a hot show.  I was a complete mess of nerves and stink as I washed.  All I could think of was how I was going to have to really sprint to get to the gate and make the flight.  It was worth it.  I would be at her door well before breakfast.  That was the goal.

      Towel wrapped around me and trying like hell to squeeze the water from my hair, I was startled by a knock on the door.  I grumbled out a ‘do not disturb’, but I knew the moment the door opened, it was my mom.  

      “Mom - what -”

      “Sorry honey,”  she started as I grabbed my clothes and moved back into the shower stall to dress.  “I know you’re rushing but I have a huge favor to ask of you.”

      “Come on, Mom,”  I grumbled, yanking my pants on.  “I was able to get an earlier flight.  I’m leaving.”    

       “I think this one is important,”  she said as I smashed my elbow into the wall in my effort to pull my shirt across my wet head.  “I met her during the set.  She’s a huge fan.  Such a sweet girl.”

       I glared at her as I walked back out to try to put myself together.  “Mom, we’ve talked about this.  We can’t do these meet and greets just because someone approaches you.  The managers…”

      “I know, I know.  But this one is different.”

      “You say that all the time,”  I quipped as I started dragging a brush through my hair.  “But seriously I have… 84 minutes until I’m in the air.  You know-”

       “But this one-”

       “Mom!”

       A look crossed her face that I had not seen since I was maybe sixteen.  Well, twenties, but really?  She opened the door and leaned out.  I knew she called for my dad.  Damn it.  Sure as shit, two seconds later there he was - with his stern ‘How could you do this?’ look plastered all over his face.

      “Jake.”  One word.  One syllable.  And I found myself back to being their child.  

      “I’m forty two years old. When does this shit end?”  I griped as I threw my stage clothes on hangers to be washed.

      “Never,”  my mother replied with a raised eyebrow.

      I relented if it meant they would get out of my dressing room.  I threw the rest of my personals into the waiting backpack and looked around for anything that I may have missed.  In the history of me trying to get shit done so I can leave, this moment was probably the fastest I’ve ever moved.  There was still a chance that I could dodge the fan thing.  Mom did, after all, forget to tell me where to go.  Or had I just not heard.  Didn’t matter.  Out the door and I immediately turned towards the loading bay.

      “Jacob!  Over here!”

      Fuck.  I had been caught.  When I turned towards them, I may have been scowling.  Mom did that thing with the fingers drawing the corners of her mouth into a smile and everything.  Was it too much to ask to get on a damn plane and get to this woman that I…  Loved.  I loved her.  Every thread of my being loved her.  Craved her.  Desired her.  But not just the sex.  It was like we were two pieces of the same map that needed no stitching to be together.  I drew out my phone and held up two fingers, mouthing to her as I passed by - two minutes.

      Everyone was in the banquet style family room.  Odd.  Josh was still bouncing around in his jumpsuit like he was plugged directly into an amp.  There was family all over the place, but it felt off.  I couldn’t identify the sensation beyond it being like a dream.  Everyone was glancing and looking at me but not really acknowledging me.  The frustration of time slipping away ate at my edges and started to piss me off.  I didn’t have the time for this shit and trying to track down a ‘fan’ was not my priority.  We were nearly through to the back side of the room when I threw in the towel.

      “Mom!  I don’t have the time for this shit!”  I blurted out, turning around as she began to argue.

       I was expecting her to really lay into me, but her words were nonexistent.  My gaze first fell on my dad as he was in front of the door, an overly cocky look on his features.  Just before him was Y/n, a shy smile and soft rock from side to side betrayed her unsureness of the moment.  My jaw dropped open and my guts spilled to the floor.  It was like the first time to Disney World, the first time playing Madison Square Garden, and seeing her for the first time ever all rolled into one.  The breath in my chest turned to fire as I felt my mom’s hand land on my back.

       “So totally your girl, Jacob,”  she whispered.

       I struggled through an exhale in a frail attempt to not break down.  “How do you know?”

      “Because Dad still looks at me the way you look at her, forty five years later,”  she said with a gentle push at my shoulder.  “Stop trying to be cool.  We all know it’s about to get mushy in here.”

      At her warm laughter, I found myself untethered from the ground and moving towards her.  All I could see was her and the glint in her eye that was my beacon.  I blinked and she was in my arms.  I blinked again and her lips were on mine.  I didn’t bother to listen to the whoops and hollers that were happening around us.  Fuck that.  The moment was all us.  I felt like I was being stretched and pulled and smashed and pummeled all at the same time.  The sound of her filled me like nothing else.  All I wanted to do was drag her back to the hotel…

      “Oh, shit,”  I whispered.  “I don’t have a room.”

      My hands came down on her hips as she started to step away.  I didn’t need her to move - at all.  It was like she instantly was the air that I needed to breathe.  The grin on her lips as she took me in made my heart quiver.

      “I gave up my room.  I’m supposed to be on a damn plane in-”

      She laughed as she cupped my cheek.  “I have a room.”

      I leaned into her touch.  Life went on around us. I was locked into her and unable to get past it.  I watched as she slipped her hand into mine and pulled it close to her chest.

      “Should we get out of here?”  she asked, a faint blush grew across her cheeks as she looked around at my family as if becoming aware of so many eyes on us.

       “Yeah.  Feeling a little weird with everyone around,”  I sighed with a backwards look at Mom.

       Dad was at her side, both grinning like idiots at us.  I felt like we were at a wedding - that part where everyone suddenly is ready for the couple to race away to get laid, or whatever.  

      “Where the fuck is Randall?”  I suddenly asked, formulating a plan from the ashes of my previous one.

       I located the assistant and was able to get the car to take us to the hotel.  He was also gracious enough to change the plane ticket for me - adding one for her for the next evening.  Perfect.  It was perfect.  I could barely keep my hands from her as we fumbled our way up to her room on the third floor, oddly enough just down the way from my  previous suite.  Nice.

      I fell against her as the post show exhaustion caught up with me.  We slowly made love, accepting it was all I was up to as every ounce of my frame started to ache.  I fell asleep with my cheek on her chest and her hands in my hair.  When I woke up alone, I panicked until I heard her moving around at the bathroom vanity.  An idea came to my brain as I slid out from under the tangled up sheets.  I was half hard by the time I saw her in the reflection of the huge mirror.  I caught her hips as she started to turn my direction.

      “Think you can keep your leg hiked up on that counter, mouse?”  I asked, as I gently pulled her right thigh up to rest her foot on the edge of the long, low slung vanity.

       I wasn’t really paying attention to her answer, just her wide spread pussy that had already started to weep just for me.  I trailed my fingers across the miles of skin of her leg going right to her center.  My eyes traced up to hers in the mirror as I passed a barely there touch to her clit.  The way her eyes widened for a moment made me grin.  I watched my fingers go to work against her folds and nub.  It didn’t take long before she was dripping against my skin and down her thigh.  Her head flopped back, and I made sure my shoulder was there for support.  I kissed along her neck just like I knew it would make her fall apart all the faster.  I hummed as I found the pulse point and she buried her teeth in her lip with a dull whine.  

       “Spray for me, mouse,”  I whispered against her cheek.  “Give it to me.”

       Her hands wrapped back across my hips for support.  She looked amazing with me wrapped around her, lips hung open and the sound...  Goddamn her sounds were making my cock ache something fierce.  I shifted, pressing into the small of her back as I tugged her open all the more.  I slid two fingers into her and was rewarded with a raspy moan that filled every inch of my skin with heat.  My palm filled with her as she hosed down her leg.  Her frame shook hard with her pleasure that I pumped her through hard.

       “Put your hands on the counter,”  I whispered as I kissed down her spine.

       I placed a sloppy kiss on the swell of her ass before sinking my teeth in.  

       “Motherfucker,”  she gasped as I pressed my fingers into her firmly as I tugged my bite to ensure I marked her.

       I lapped at her soaked thigh until I reached her core.  Fuck I missed her taste.  I sucked every inch that I could, savoring all of her.

       “Jake,”  she groaned, pushing her ass back a bit as if moving me to where she needed.

       “Like that?”  I asked before I ground the tip of my nose against her core and nibbled at her clit.

       “Jake,”  she said, this time her voice was off, like in pain.

       I pulled back, trying to catch a glimpse of her in the mirror.

      “Fucking cramp!”  she belted out, her leg coming down off the vanity suddenly and nearly falling back into me.  “Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, fucking hell, ooooooowwwww.”

      I rubbed at her hip and thigh with a grimace.  I apologized profusely as she started to laugh.  Her cheeks were completely blushed out as I helped her to walk back towards the bed.

      “Sorry, sorry!”  she said, hiding her face.  “Oh my god, I can’t believe that just fucking happened!”

      I laughed as I got her to sit down.  “Are you okay?”

     She grimaced something fierce as I pressed my fingers into her thigh where she had been trying to grab and kneed.  I slowly knelt before her, helping her through the steel tightening in her leg.  I bent and planted a kiss on her knee as she blew out a few deep breaths.

      “Better?”  I ask quietly as I look up into her embarrassed face.

      “Yeah,”  she groaned, still trying to hide her eyes.  “I’ll be okay.”

      I smiled at her.  She’s gorgeous even when she is so totally flustered.  I took her hands into mine and leaned back on my heels.  She peeked to find that I was totally soft.  She whispered out a curse as her embarrassment washed across her once more.

     “Just means you gotta work for it,”  I sassed with a raised eyebrow.

     I hummed at the sight of her tongue at the corner of her lips.  She whispered for me to stand up and I was quick to follow her order.  She dragged her hands down my flanks and the fronts of my hips.  She lapped at her lips in a very obvious manner as she hooked my soft length with her thumb.

     “Hmmm,”  she said, her voice full of depth.  “I kind of like ‘em soft for this.”

     She rolled her eyes up to meet mine as she dropped her mouth totally open and fed all of me into her mouth.  Her tongue tickled my balls before she sucked one in, followed by the other.  The sight blew my mind as she vibrated with a giggle.  She dragged her teeth across the ball sack as she slowly let them go with a little bite at the end.

      “Fuck,”  I breathed, practically hunched over her and her dark magic.

      “That didn’t take long,”  she teased before taking my hardening shaft between her lips with a hard pull.

       She pulled me all the way back in and rolled my sack between her fingers.  She bobbed her head a few times before meeting my gaze once more.  She let me go and wiped a line of drool from the corner of her soaked mouth.  It was absolutely obscene the way she sucked at my thigh and pumped my cock.

       “How you gonna fuck me, Jake?”  she hummed before swallowing me down again.  “You gonna treat me like an angel?  Be all gentle and sweet like you did last night?”

       My jaw slacked as she spread my cheeks and passed her fingers across my entrance and twisted her tongue over the tip of my dick.  She was better than porn.  She was better than any other woman. She was mine.

      “Or are you gonna make it hard and rough.  Treat me like a sinner,”  she cooed, working my rim with delicious pressure.  “You gonna fuck me hard into this matress?  Break me.  Ride me.  Fucking mark me?”

       She spat on her finger and pressed beyond the rim to swirl and make me moan like her own whore.  She yanked my cock up to press against my belly while she loved on and bit on my balls and the inside of my thighs.  I nearly shot my load all over her face right there.  She seemed to pick up on it and backed off with a sultry lick from base to tip.  She rained gentle kisses to my belly as she put herself into my hands.

      I grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her up to her feet with a searing kiss.  She was everything in that moment.  Every moment.  All time.  Everything.  I turned her and pushed her down onto her belly.  I wrapped her hair around my fist as I straddled her thighs.  She lifted her hips just enough to expose her core to me to slip into.

      “You don’t want me to be gentle?”  I asked as I bottomed out nice and slow.

      I exposed her throat with a languid tug on her hair to pull her face away from the mattress.  The way her back strained was sexy.  She was powerful as I stayed buried in her depths.  I saw the red mark already forming beneath my shifting palm on her hip.  I slapped her ass cheek with a wicked speed that made her gasp.

      “Please, more,”  she squeaked.

      I couldn’t help the smirk that pierced my lips.  We explored during our times together.  We were by no means shy about sharing ideas or desires.  But damn if this was a boundary that we had not tested before.  I was hooked.  I slapped her other cheek before pounding myself into her at a fast pace, but shallow, teasing depth.  She growled and tried to look back at me, but I tightened my hold on her hair, keeping her right where she was.

      “Don’t fucking tease me,”  she threatened.

      It sent shivers all the way through my system.  I ate it up like fucking candy and needed more.  Immediately.  I pulled myself from her and parted her legs so I could nestle down between and thrust hard into her before I laid down on top of her.  I held onto her wrists as I pummeled in and out and ground down against her ass.

      “Better, baby?”  I asked with my teeth on her ear.

       “More,”  she moaned.

       “More, what?”  I tested, just to see what she would say.

       Another low, deep moan erupted from her chest as I  pushed through her tight folds and felt her constrict all the way down my length.  “BITCH,”  she growled.  “You’re my fucking Bitch!!”

       I lapped and sucked on her ear with a taunting laugh.  “I’ve been your bitch for two damn decades,”  I sighed.  “Try again, baby.”

       Silence.  But I didn’t let up.  I sucked a mark hard into her throat as I dragged myself nearly completely out and slammed back into her.  The sound of our skin slapping against each other was profane.  I felt her spray as I set into another punishing round.

      “Schnookums!”  she bleated out with a hard laugh.

      “What the fuck is that?”

      I couldn’t help but pause for a second to regroup.  I laughed into her shoulder and she actually snorted.  So sexy.  I threaded an arm across her chest and rolled us over so that she was on top with me still buried deep within.  She sat up and rolled her hips a few times before turning to face me.  God, I loved her form.  The deep cut of her hips, the bounce of her breasts.  

       “You going to try again?”  I asked, shoving my hips up to force another hard connection.

       She practically flailed over as I ground up into her.  I watched as she recovered and leaned over me so we were nose to nose.  She made like she was going to kiss my mouth but instead, hovered just above.

       “Captain.”

       I gasped.  Everything blurred as the singular word set my body on fire and my mind to racing.  I grabbed hold of her hips and rolled us once more so that I could properly fuck into her without mercy.  My gaze locked onto her face as I pounded my hips into hers.  She yanked up her legs to give me full access.  I felt myself turning into a feral being as I ground and slapped my body into her.  

       Her eyes twinkled as she pushed herself up to kiss me hard and pull me down into her.  She repeated ‘captain’ over and over, coaxing whimpers from me that filled the air around her like she commanded my every movement.  It was like that poem, but better - it was her own.  She was panting and chirping and her eyes were glazing over like she was about to… oh goddamn.  I swear her pussy clamped down on me as a cry ripped from her mouth.  Everything on her body froze solid. Her whole body buckled and bowed and shivered with her orgasm.  I couldn’t help but to be dazzled as I shot my load with a sound that poured from my mouth that I had never made before.  My heart was racing in my chest and my breath was blowing against her hair as we tried to hold onto each other.  She cooed and caressed me.  I pressed ghostly kisses across her collarbones as if I could drink those last remnants of the love we just shared to stay drunk on her.

     Stillness.  I listened to her breathe as we dozed pressed against each other.  I trailed my fingers back and forth across her shoulder as I tried to gather my thoughts, my words.  There was too much to say to her at this point.  My throat vibrated with the prettiest of sentiments.  But they remained mute as I just took in the weight of the seconds as they ticked by.

      Her phone chirped an alarm that demanded her attention.  My skin screamed out for her quick return, only to be left disappointed.

      “If we’re going to make that flight, we gotta move,”  she whispered, suddenly keeping her distance.

      I frowned.  I knew she was right.  I knew I had just blown my opportunity to quell the bubble of question that was roasting in my chest.  Somehow, just feeling her presence had been more important.  We found ourselves through showers, dressed and taking the elevator down to the lobby before either one of us spoke again.  It was like all we needed to say was in the linger touches we shared; the long held gazes that accompanied a knowing smile.  Randall had a car waiting for us and we were on our way to the airport in no time at all.  I held her hand against my thigh, but it didn’t seem like enough contact.

      We sat in the gate waiting.  It was then I noticed that in our quietness, there was a resolve.  I watched as she talked to Pat on her phone, but all the while, she was touching me - my arm, my knee, holding onto my hand.  She was in the same space as me.  Just to know that she was real - that this moment was really happening.  The flight was not remarkable.  She dozed on my shoulder the entire way.  I breathed in the trust that she gave over to me.  

      Her new home was the embodiment of her.  It was not unlike the house she had all those years before, but this one felt like her whole life was woven into every fabric, embedded into the paint and bones of the structure.  There was nothing hidden - everything of her was on display.  I carried our bags into her bedroom and she cornered me as I was about to walk back out to her kitchen.  Her lips parted as she leaned close.

      “I love you,”  I whispered as our lips hovered over each other.  “I’ve loved you forever.”

      She planted a soft kiss but then leaned back with her fingers tracing the line of my jaw.  “I claim you my safe harbor, Jake.”

      There it was.  The bubble of questions in my chest calmed.  I knew it wasn’t going to be absolutely perfect, but it would be ours.  We would navigate this - the long stretches of being alone and the times where we could be together.  She had made changes, just the same as I had made changes.  The built in breaks for family would tie in perfectly when she would have to be in the office.  The tour dates where we were on the road, she would be able to follow much more freely, working from whatever faraway hotel we found ourselves tucked in.  It was a balance.  It had been a hard fight for balance, but we did it.  We made it work.  And we flourished because of it.    

Epilogue, Her POV     

     My heart was racing, matching the paces of my steps as I dashed through the terminal of Detroit airport.  I had been waylaid by Spring storms and a client that needed a bit of extra hand holding to see the vision of their event.  I stopped just long enough to pee and to get a text out to Ronnie to meet me at the door.  There was no way in hell I was going to miss the big party.

     I pushed my way out the double slider doors and instantly heard the rumble of the ‘Cuda.  Leave it to my escorts to do this running in style.  The air owned a brittle warmth, like Spring wanted to arrive, but had at least one good snowstorm left in her to give.  I pulled my light jacket closer to my frame as I made it to the curb.  Kelly was quick to step out of the shiny cherry red, deep rumbling 1970 Barracuda.  He pulled me in for a quick hug before making way for me to slide into the backseat like it was a get-away car.  He tossed my bag into the trunk and off we went with Ronnie behind the wheel.

      “How you doin, Papa?”  I cooed as I got myself situated.

      Kelly grinned that infamous Kiszka grin over his shoulder.  His dark sunglasses did little to hide the joy in the man’s face.  “I’m doing amazing, sweets,”  he answered, before he started on the usual round of polite questions to catch up.

      It was already after four in the afternoon.  Ronnie had assured me that they could make it home in under 90 minutes.  Once out on the interstate, she flew that beast of a car much to her father’s delight.  We were serenaded by Kelly’s lovely baritone gravel and Ronnie’s smooth interjections of trills.  The intimidation factor of such blatant and latent talent that coursed through the family was still strong, even eight years down the road.  The best I could do is hum, sorta on key, but they loved me anyway.

      The years with Jake had not been easy, but I could not imagine life any differently.  Sure, we had a lot of bumps and bruises as we tried to figure out our balance - together.  Did we regret the resistance that spanned for so long - at times.  Honestly, I don’t think we had the maturity to survive what we are able to now.  I am able to travel with him many times throughout the year.  He comes home to me during tour breaks.  When possible, we divide time between St. Paul and Nashville, and of course Frankenmuth is still home for his folks and Ronnie.  

      “Drop me off at the hall.  The boys are expecting me,”  Kelly said as we crossed the town line.

      It was going to be a huge covert mission sneaking me in under the Kiszka radar.  Ronnie got us into her driveway and we ran inside, dodging kids and toys and all manner of obstacles.  The show was only a few hours away - One Night Only - A Night of Celebration with Greta Van Fleet was a sold out affair at Fischer Hall.  Josh broached the idea of having an all acoustic set, no openers, just a totally stripped down show with their hometown to celebrate the twins’ fiftieth birthdays.  All funds raised from the tickets were going straight to the music boosters and the Autofest to give back to the town that had so nurtured them while they grew up.  It would be just like it had been way back with them setting up, but there were a few volunteers from their formal road tech crew that made themselves available for the festivities.  

     We had just enough time to snuggle down with the nieces and nephews and have a small supper before getting ready and heading in for the party.  Ronnie and her husband, Ethan, expertly corralled their four kids into the side entrance, taking their residence in the roped off area marked family only.  I made sure to stay hidden as Jake was still texting me to see if I was on the way to at least catch the family events for the next few days.  I just kept assuring him that I would be in by breakfast.  

      “WHAT!”  Sam’s sass filled my ears before I felt his hands on my back.

      “Oh hell,”  I muttered as he turned me around and enveloped me in his embrace.

      “I thought Jake said you wouldn’t be here until tomorrow,”  he babbled, rocking me side to side.

      I tried to shush him, but was buried in his chest.

      “Oh my gawd, wait until he knows-”

      “Sam!  No!”  I barked out, trying to keep my voice down but loud enough to be heard.  “It’s a surprise.”

      The glint that overtook his eyes was endearing.  I could count on him to be quick to figure out the puzzle before him, regardless of his own mindset.  He nodded and seemed to step back, as if blocking the doorway.

      “Are you staying here?”  he asked, waving at hand around the side stage area.  When I nodded, he frowned.  “That won’t do.  He’d totally see you with the family…”

      My heart froze when I heard Josh and Jake coming towards the main staging area.  My eyes must’ve been as big as saucers that Sam somehow mirrored.  He pushed me into the curtains and proceeded to the stage with his brothers.  Danny passed by with a perked eyebrow but instantly was in on the scheme when I held up a finger to my lips, no words necessary.  There were times that I so appreciated that man.  The hall was packed and loud as they settled down onto stools and chairs.  

     “A Very Happy Birthday To US!”  Josh shouted out, beaming out across the audience with a million watts of sunshine.

     I chanced a glimpse out, seeing Jake under the stage lights.  His full silver hair shone around him as he slowly ran his fingers across the frets.  His handsome face was full of concentration as he prepared during Josh’s rambling speech about nice to be home amongst faces of so many friends and family.  He talked about their first show in the hall and their last appearance before things took on a much bigger avenue.  I watched as the corner of Jake’s mouth tugged a bit as if his memories swirled right along with his twin.  Sam and Danny were on either side of them, so as to keep the twins together on their day.

      “There you are,”  Karen whisper-shouted from behind me.

      I grimaced as I turned, hoping not to draw attention as they started to play the opening song.  “Hey, Mom,”  I greeted softly as she pulled me in for a hug.

      “Cake’s here - they’re prepping it up now,”  she said, eyes on her boys.  

      It was not hard to see the pride in her eyes.  Even after all the years, she still loved to see her boys play - didn’t matter if it was to something small like the hall, or huge stadiums.  Her boys.  Her treasures.  We watched, hand in hand, for a stretch.  My spirit calmed as I watched my man play his guitar and wear a smile that made me swoon.  I could hardly believe that I had had eight years with him.  There were times that were still rough, but we were happy.  I was happy.  Jake made every moment count.  I loved the man and was rewarded with the good and bad that made him Jake.  

     Karen tugged at my hand as they were nearing the final few songs.  The plan was that I would help her and Kelly push the cart that held the cake out on the stage to surprise Jake.  I cast one glance back towards him as she led me away.  He radiated absolute joy.  It brought tears to my eyes to see him so filled with happiness.  Kelly wrapped his arm around my shoulders as if he just knew that I was struggling.  He held me close without a word as if knowing that just some quiet was what I needed to get back on my feet.  

      “You ready, honey?”  Karen asked without actually committing her words to anyone - she just put her hands on the rolling cart and took off towards the stage.  

      I looked up at her husband and he just shrugged with a smile as if it was answer enough.  I walked with him, his hand wrapped tight to mine.  They were lingering across a song from the latest album by the time we stepped to the edge of the stage.  Karen, in all her boldness, walked right out there, egging the crowd on for cheers that seemed to wash over the stage with cries of ‘Happy Birthday!’  Jake turned and his gaze froze on me.  For a moment, I struggled for breath as his eyes grew glossy and the corner of his mouth pulled tight with emotion.

      Kelly and Karen were busy lighting candles while Josh, Danny and Sam were bent over causing all sorts of theatrics to distract from how Jake set his guitar to the side and slowly stood up from his stool.  I stumbled forward, totally missing how there were cords everywhere and nearly slammed myself into the back of Kelly.  Yeah.  That would’ve been amazing.  Much to my relief, Jake had his hand out for me to take.  He pulled me into him and kissed me hard as his fingers drifted across my cheek.

      “Happy birthday,”  I whispered as the crowd started to sing the happy birthday song.

      He pressed his lips to mine once more, his fingers soft against my face.  “God, you’re beautiful,”  he said softly, his eyes were slow to open as he leaned into me.

      The catcalls and wolf whistles commenced as he kissed me again and his parents finished lighting the massive amount of candles.  The hall hushed as it seemed the twins became overwhelmed with emotions.  Josh held out his hand for Jake to take before they bent over to blow out the inferno before them.  Kelly wrapped his arm around Karen as they seemed to fall together in their golden pride for their boys.  The hall erupted in cheers as they laughed over their struggle to get every candle out.  Of course they yukked it up with clutching each other chests in a mock gasp of breath.  

     Jake reached for me once more.  His eyes sparkled as he brought me close.  His gaze made me feel like everyone else evaporated.  He cupped my cheek and kissed me sweetly.  God, I loved this man.  

     I am unsure if I was caught up in the moment, or if it was the right time, but I leaned into him as he folded me into a tight hug.  The others were already getting back to their stools and Karen and Kelly were pushing the cart away.  I took in a deep breath and whispered a word I never thought I would say willingly.

     “Husband.”  The word clawed its way from my mouth, but it was honest in the moment.  My eyes met his and my chest swelled with emotions as he seemed to realize what was happening.  “I’d like to call you husband, Jake.”

     He paused.  He literally paused all of his movements and just stood there holding me.  I just about started to panic, wondering instantly if I had overstepped.  He kissed the spot just below my ear.  I caught sight of those warm, dark eyes as he pulled away from me.  They twinkled with a love that was mine alone.  Every cell inside my body was jolting with the energy he fed me.  He made sure that I made it over the cabling before getting back to his job.  Karen looped her arm with mine as she just beamed radiance towards her family.  

      “Jake!  I know she’s a looker but did you forget we have this thing we gotta do?”  Josh was joking as he was settling back onto his stool with his guitar.

      There were more than a few laughs and I caught how he swayed a bit, shifting into…  “pRicK, you don’t talk about my girl that waaaay,”  he drawled, his smile was a mile wide.

      “Oliver, you said you wouldn’t do this again,”  Josh pretended.  “Remember the last time you tried to pull this - it ended in fire and thankfully no one died, but still.”

       “Yeah well, Jake’s never gotten proposed to, so this is how he answers ‘yes’,”  Jake joked, looking back at me.

       Karen screeched, echoing the crowd.  My everything became flooded with joy as the brothers congratulated him and threw me air kisses.  Our lives had been one meandering string of run-ins that were always filled with passion and a question of love.  These past years only solidified our need for the other.  Soulmates?  Perhaps.  There’s a power in finding the one who truly understands you inside and out.  As he held me on that stage, I knew one thing - this was no longer the fleeting embrace that it once had been.  It was truly a daily celebration of our life together.  And it was a beautiful, beautiful thing to be beholden to.

The End.

I hope you enjoyed CD&FE as much as I enjoyed writing it.  The original story was actually a version of Best Laid Plans that got scrapped and forgotten until it waved like a maniac at me one day and this was formed.  It really was my first reader insert that was multi-chapter, so that was interesting!  Trying it again with my next story The Dead.  I’m a long way from being done with it, but just know I’m working on something.  See y’all soon.

@lvnterninthenight @doodle417 @luverleaver @jakesgrapejuice @fictional-duchess @milkgemini @positivegvfthings @songbirds-sweet @gretavanbitches @gardensgatedaisy @babyhoneygvfarchive @myownparadise96 @josh-iamyour-mama @starcatcherc @loveisonaroll @jakesstarlight @reesetrippingthelight @builtby-gvf @ignite-my-fire @wetkleenex-gvf @gold-mines-melting @starsasone @mysticalstarcatcher @montenegroisr @takenbythemadness @way-to-go-lad @cal-a-bungaa @thewritingbeforesunrise @leftjudgeempathsuitcase @brokenbells11 @imborrowedshesblue @vanfleeter

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

[sinfulseashell]

Question for Y!Bonten (if possible all of them ♥️)

How would they react after punishing reader and they start becoming more scared and distant from them because they're scared that they'll hurt and punish them? Thanks:))

(i hope you enjoy this response my sweet siren 💖 I’m sorry this came out kinda long, but i was having fun with this one 😅)

Y!Mikey: He stays silent thinking about the times that his darling wouldn’t come near him after the punishments he would give finally speaking with a sigh, “They can’t be without me…they need me just as much as I need them…” he mumbled. “I wouldn’t let them distance themselves from me…I would ask them to forgive me. Besides…they need me…right?”

Y!Sanzu: “It’s frustrating knowing that my darling would be scared of me due to my punishments, but I keep things simple. Obey me and there would be no punishments.” He huffed while crossing his arms over his chest. “You would think that would be a simple task, but I just love them so much that…It hurts both of us sometimes. I don’t like punishing them…” he ponders for a moment. “I mean…kind of…wait…” a frown shows upon his lips as he sighs. “I guess I would try to…uh…comfort them? LOOK IM NOT GOOD AT THIS SHIT! ITS HARD OK? Jeez…”

Y!Takeomi: “Regret.” He frowns. “I would never want my little one to be afraid of me for something so…natural.” He furrows his brows as he looks to the floor. “They mean everything to me…I don’t want them to fear me…that’s not why I keep them around. If I ever hurt them to the point that they even flinch with the raise of my hand…what kind of man would that make me?” Now puffing his cigarette agitated thinking about the possibilities of this happening. “I would be a sorry son of a bitch.” He growled.

Y!Kokonoi: “Scared of me? That would be a first.” He huffed. “I don’t punish my darling for the fuck of it. They would have to do a lot to piss me off…besides I don’t use punishments for fear, that’s why they are called punishments.” Facing away now he looks out the window towards the garden staring down at his darling so lovingly. “I would never want them to be scared of me…I would rather lose all of my fortune then to ever lose them…”

Y!Rindou: He scoffed upon hearing the question as he takes a swig of his drink. “My punishments are more pleasurable than harmful. I like to make them weak by releasing to the point that it hurts sometimes…eh…depending on what they have done.” Rolling his eyes he placed his drink on the table. “However to answer this dumbass question…IF per say I was to hurt them to the point of them being scared then I’ll just have to make sure that my aftercare is 1000 percent better afterwards. I don’t like my darling to fear me, just to be obedient.” He looks up and frowns, “What? I’m not a fucking monster…unlike some people.” He growls as he eyes Sanzu.

Y!Sanzu: Minding his business and stuffing his face before looking at the camera and giving a thumbs up. (literally has no idea what’s going on)

Y!Ran: Tears up upon hearing the question, “I WOULD NEVER! I mean I do understand that my punishments can get quite out of hand at times and…well quite frankly it’s not always…gentle, but I would never want them to fear me!” Places his face in his hands. “That’s devastatingly heartbreaking…if they were to ever fear me for those reasons then I’ll do everything I can to make it up to them. My darling deserves nothing but perfection! And god dammit I’ll give it to them!”

Y!Rindou: “….😐…” turns to look at the camera. “Sorry he was dropped when he was little. Don’t mind him.”

Y!Mochi: “Uh…I don’t really like giving out punishments if I’m going to be honest.” Chuckles nervously as he rubs the nape of his neck.

S/O: Looks at the camera and shakes their head. “He cries when he has to punish me.”

Y!Kakucho: “I would be for their forgiveness…never would I want them to fear me. At least…not in that way.” He sighs. “I would want them to fear losing me instead, but to fear me because of the punishments…” looks away ashamed as if this already happened. “I wouldn’t ever be worthy of their love if that was the case…because…all I want to do is love them.”

#tokyo revengers #tokyo rev #tokyo revengers brahman #tokyo revengers toman #tokyo revengers valhalla #tokyorev x reader #yandere tokyo revengers #tokyo rev x you #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo revengers bonten #tokyo revengers black dragons #yandere bonten #yandere mikey #yandere sanzu #yandere takeomi #yandere kokonoi #yandere rindou haitani #yandere ran haitani #yandere mochi #yandere kakucho #bonten imagines #bonten scenarios #bonten headcanons

[problemnyatic]

abusers posting on AITA like

ok so. this may sound bad but hear me out. my partner and I have been together for a while now. I love them so much and they love me. When we got together, they showed me this toy they got as a gift when they were little, I thought it was kinda weird that they kept some dumb toy, but it made them happy. Thing is, they'll pull it out sometimes, and just smile at it. At first I just ignored it, but it started to bother me. Who were they thinking about? Why do they still have that stupid old thing? It's meaningless. It's meaningless. How could they find joy in something so insignificant? Why can't they just find joy in me instead? I couldn't sleep. I couldn't eat. They'd ask me what's wrong, and I'd lie. I couldn't stop thinking about that horrible, treacherous thing. I had to do something about it. So one night, I picked the lock to their end table and I stole it. I went on a drive alone, just me and this effigy of sin, naught but the droning of tires on asphalt to fill the yawning tapestry of void all around us. I pull into an empty lot, and pour some spare gasoline onto it. With only the toy and an old polaroid of theirs as kindling, I set it ablaze, burned, purified - the toxic fumes of burning plastic released to the sky, lifting the toxic chains of memories and gifters long past with them to the heavens. It's gone. It's gone. It's finally gone. For the first time, I breathe. Guilt- no, not guilt. Of course not, for guilt is for those who've done wrong. But a need - a fair trade. I duck into a shop, one i've never seen before or since. From a faceless man with a voice like every voice I've ever heard, I buy the most recent copy of FIFA. Yes, this shall serve as a suitable replacement. A surprise, a gift! Something new, a show of my love for them. When they wake, they're of course happy with the gift. They tell me that the thought means quite a bit, especially since there was no special occasion - of course, there wouldn't be, not to them. Things turned for the worst when I told them what I'd done. They look for their toy, and it is gone. It is gone. I took it, and it is gone. They weep with rage and demand an explanation. I don't understand. I can't understand. I call them a crazy bitch, and they pack an overnight bag to stay at their friend's place. AITA? I really don't know what I did wrong. Why would they care so much about that thing? It was just some stupid toy. EDIT: okay I get it FIFA was a stupid gift. Ill get animal crossing or something next time EDIT 2: oh my god they fucking found the post EDIT 3: They broke up with me. Thanks guys.

#I really tried not to post this one but it kept pressing at my mind #problemnyatic shitposts #problemnyatic thoughts

[muzzleroars]

hmmhmfsgh I love all your work so much, your concepts for the lore of Ultrakill are so interesting, and I wanna eat your art style it's so good

I have a question regarding Lucifer: after everything has calmed down with all the archangels, would it be possible for him to be freed? If they realized he was put away unjustly, could Michael unbind him? Are the chains unbreakable, or would Michael be too afraid/stubborn to go back on the decision?

aaaa thank you!! and i'm so glad i get the chance to talk about this...because i think this is ultimately how michael's redemption arc would have to end and how he could be released from the guilt he's carried all this time. it would come when michael has recalled his mercy, when he is at ease with gabriel's position in hell and has more or less taken up his role as prince of heaven to help what remains of his citizens rather than continue attempting to condemn hell and its sinners (including a very important apology to the ferryman). gabriel would know the time is right to show him to that testament, to reveal to him god's own shame at casting lucifer out and all the lies they must have been told since - he shows it to all the archangels, but it is michael's decision which matters the most. and i think, in feeling that ugly remorse he's carried for eons finally fall on his head, he would make the determination that lucifer's imprisonment is unjust. he must be released...the decision, however, is met with immediate opposition.

gabriel is the least opposed, though he believes in taking this much more methodically and being sure he and v1 aren't left with what might be a bigger problem than they can handle. raphael is outright against it, stating that lucifer is surely far too much now warped by hell to be trustworthy, even if he agrees the original binding was wrong. uriel supports his points, going further to put forth the idea that lucifer may not even be himself by now, instead more an avatar of hell instead given how it's connected to him so thoroughly. michael is staunch in his stance, however, impressing upon them the utter depravity of any decision other than freeing him as soon as possible - he was innocent, and he's endured unending torture trapped in a pit devoid of god's light. regardless of his state, keeping him chained now would be the most hideous act of cruelty heaven could carry out. unfortunately, they can reach no conclusion with raphael and uriel unswayed and gabriel not entirely agreeing with michael's admittedly emotional plan. so they end the discussion at odds, but that hardly matters to michael. he will go with or without their help.

v2 knows this almost immediately, when he comes to see it afterward. didn't go his way, it can tell. but v2 lets him know that hardly matters as it knows what he's thinking now too, and it will join him whenever he's ready. michael of course tries to insist it's unnecessary, but v2 counters that it's not all about him - lucifer is serving out a sentence that should never have been passed, and v2's nature can't abide by that. they will do what's right, even if it's so late, and v2 is proud of him. michael, in return, is greatly humbled and infinitely grateful toward v2 once more, like he has been several times now when it's saved him, yet v2 tells him he'll have to save any praise until they're done. they're both well aware of what they're about to do in the silent pause that follows, but michael leads them on when the moment has passed and he prepares to undertake his final penance. the one he's always been waiting on.

freeing lucifer proves to be just as brutal as he always thought it would have to be. satan in its suffering form, bound up into a dragon that wears his halo skewed and nailed to its face, bodies of angels twisted up into a hard carapace covered in scales of a thousand faces crying out to him. its belly cut open, pouring forth the flayed and decayed corpses of those that were lucky enough not to survive their fall, while michael's own spear pins lucifer to its chest. and hell itself growing onto and into them all, burrowing under shattered wings and into its grotesque frame, with lucifer now seemingly unable to hear michael. whatever it is fights autonomously against them, instinct ruled by agony and lashing out against anything that dare come near it. with each chain michael severs, it grows more wild, encased in ice that begins to crack with deep, resounding shockwaves that carry through all of hell. it alerts gabriel and v1, who move together without a word straight to treachery (gabriel knew this would be the outcome, so they're relatively prepared) and do what they can to support michael and v2. as more chains fall, raphael and uriel appear to plead with michael to stop, yet they too protect him in what ways they can even though he refuses to heed them. he hears nothing but the pain of the monstrosity before him, his own dead body numb to all the damage it does, yet able to feel it in white hot phantoms. he could be torn apart and he would never cease, he is already a corpse anyway. and when he has done away with all the chains, those that could only be unbound by his will, he finally pulls the central spear from its heart...and the beast collapses in a great flood of blood and cinder.

from without, a great sigh of relief rushes over them all, so many of the angels that had been held in that form dying instantly upon its release, and they are glad of it (there is the briefest, faintest sound of a hymn of many voices long since forgotten) stronger angels scatter almost as quickly, unused to a free form and so taken by it immediately to follow the howling winds of hell. only lucifer remains, hands buried in the ash around him and so very aware of every life lost, a name for each voice that only he now knows. only michael goes to him with weapons tossed aside, calling out to him finally once more by his own name that he has long forgotten. yet still, michael, he knows. michael has come and the world must have ended. this is his time, this is their revelation, and lucifer stands on the ashes of all the angels he led to death. he asks to be struck down just as michael reaches him. no more. no eternity of torment. no lake of fire. free him as he has all these other souls, and free the ones that escaped - they know not how they run, they mean no offense. they will surrender to michael as he does now, so long as he destroys them entirely. please. they have sinned and done wrong, now let it end and have your kingdom of peace. let the world be free of suffering within and without. let it be perfect.

it is unthinkable, unknowable, when michael finally speaks after being stricken so still and silent, when he tells lucifer there is no battle, that he came only to free him. not for a thousand years to reign on earth, but for whatever they have left. he is sorry he couldn't save all of them, he is sorry he has come so late, he is sorry his spear ever pierced into lucifer's side and drew the first blood of god's creation. he is sorry he comes to him like this, michael already dead and lucifer a burned out husk in the blood of all those that should still be in paradise. lucifer doesn't seem to take in what he says, or, more likely, he can't, and so only continues to repeat his request, asking michael to at least kill the rest of them. even if lucifer must be left to suffer forever, let it be in solitude. michael only reaches him once he admits god's death, that everything done now is his own will and he releases lucifer from this place...a ringing silence, the whole of hell letting out a long groan. lucifer is what remains of him now, god's own fire still lifting to the dead air in sparks from his charred body. and he screams terribly, millennia of grief, of anger, of deepest hatred, tearing through the halls of hell as his fire lights briefly once more to illuminate a brutally dark, brutally cold cavern to see god's light for the first time. it can't last long, he can't bear it anymore, and he has much more to do if that hatred can no longer find a place. let lucifer bury his dead, let him divide out these ashes into all the angels he once knew even if it takes him one thousand years to make every grave. let him find those that ran, even if they have reached the four corners of the world by now, to offer his apologies for what he did to them. let him seek out the few left of the damned so they know how he regrets bringing sin into the world. let him be sure this can exist as a place where the love of god will never be known, let his own name be forgotten in every soul that managed to survive his tyranny.

THIS IS VERY LONG....but essentially, at least starting out, lucifer needs to actually largely be left alone. he is relatively unresponsive to outsiders, gabriel the only one of the group that can engage him at all in the beginning, and he is more often heard singing in hymns none of them can understand. he travels through all of hell, though he seems increasingly uneasy the higher he climbs and often returns to his place in treachery by his own accord. far from being the ultimate presence of evil they came to believe he was, lucifer is clearly a being broken, a being that's forgotten all his joy, all his memories of heaven, instead locked into mourning. raphael and uriel in particular feel great guilt over disputing his freedom, seeing how he buries each angel he lost, how he preserves their names and relates, to no one, their whole lives in heaven before they came here. he tells of the work they did, of the happiness they made, he eulogizes each of them in words that must have run through his head countless times, words he never thought he'd get the chance to speak. he needs a true grieving period before any significant progress can be made with him, yet there are always sparks of the old lucifer. something is lighter in him seeing the damned minos cares for, actually able to see the city they built here. he rejoices, in quiet, muted ways with each fallen angel he retrieves, and he wishes to make hell a place they can all share in with him. even hell itself. it has suffered too, after all.

#NOVEL LENGTH ANSWER....you can tell it's been on my mind!!! #they do begin to be able to speak with him #and he's very....changeable emotionally #because lucifer is deeply conflicted over their role in his fall #he blames god before anyone and a big part of him knows they had to do what they did for their safety #he knows they were lied to. crushed beneath god's will and tethered in their own way #but lucifer is deeply achingly angry for what he and all the rest of his angels went through #and god died without him. like a coward. #so they are all that's left to take his pain #cake answers #lucifer #michael #rise and fall au

[akiizayoi4869]

I just got finished watching Dragon Ball Super: Super Hero, and I think this might actually be up there in my favorite Dragon Ball movies. I wasn't sure how exactly I was going to feel about it at first because of the animation style, but I loved this movie. The humor and chaos was on point as always, and I never got bored watching it. My favorite moments had to be the new transformations:

I never thought that we would get to see Gohan and Piccolo get another power up, since the plots usually center around Goku and Vegeta saving the day. Speaking of which, that was actually a breath of fresh air for this movie. I love them, but sometimes it's good to let other characters have the spotlight. The last time I can remember that happening was in DBZ movie 11: Bio Broly, so I was pleasantly surprised to see the other characters getting the chance to save the world for a change. Another thing that I loved about the movie is this:

Piccolo and Pan's relationship was so cute and wholesome😭. A stark contrast to how Piccolo was with Gohan back when he was training him to fight the sayains (which makes sense since Piccolo didn't have nearly as much development as he does now). The ending where she showed him that she could finally fly was so cute. Piccolo's relationship with Gohan in this movie was another highlight that I loved. Even though Gohan has long since surpassed Piccolo, he still needs to be reminded that he needs to keep up his training. And who better to do that than the person who made him into a warrior to begin with?

Also wanted to talk about these guys:

It was nice to see them bring back the Red Ribbon Army for this movie. I always wondered if there was more of them hiding in secret somewhere. Dr. Gero actually having a grandson was a surprise. Definitely was not expecting that. Speaking of which, I love how Commander Red's son and his lackey was able to manipulate Dr. Gero's grandson with the most bs lie ever to get him to do what they wanted him to do xD. I didn't think he would actually believe it, but this is Dragon Ball after all, lol. Gamma 1 and Gamma 2 were really cool and interesting characters to introduce. I liked how they thought of themselves as the "heroes" (even though they obviously weren't) thanks to Dr. Hedo's programming, and eventually realized that they were all being lied to. When Gamma 2 died I actually felt sad, which was something else that I wasn't expecting to happen🤣. Don't really have too much to say about Cell Max. He was nothing more than the final boss that you have to defeat to win the game. I do like how they brought Cell back though, even if it wasn't actually him. I wonder what would have happened if he never got released. Would he have stayed in confinement and grown stronger like the Cell that we all know did, before he eventually broke out? Or would Dr. Hedo have done something about him?

Two of the funniest moments to me in the film would have to be when Bulma used the remaining two wishes for freaking cosmetic surgery, and Beerus having a crush on Cheelai😂😂😂. Like, I know that I shouldn't expect much from Bulma when it comes to wishes, but damn😭. And I never thought that a God of Destruction would ever have a crush on someone, lol. All in all, I absolutely loved this movie and I will definitely watch it again.

#dragon ball super: super hero #Gohan #Piccolo #Dbs super hero Pan #Dr. Hedo #Gamma 1 #Gamma 2 #Cell Max #Bulma #Beerus #Goku #Vegeta