#this has been my daydream's for [unknown number] days

[alittlemoth]

Licorice cookie redemption idea

I bet if someone showed him genuine kindness he would just... not know what to do.

Lets say some poor human from our world got zippity zapity zonked into earthbread (not as a giant) and is imprisoned in dark enchantress cookie's dungeon and he was told to watch the person. the human shows him kindness and actually listens to him because he isn't actively being hostile to them. Licorice cookie starts to feel really bad about keeping this one person with an ounce of kindness in dark enchantress cookie's dungeon. He decides to get them out of the cell and the nice person just... drags him with them.

...The adventures of Licorice cookie and the Human who befriended him against his will.

#licorice cookie #cookie run #licorice cookie x reader #cookie run kingdom #licorice cookie my beloved #crk #this has been my daydream's for [unknown number] days #Ha... self contained one shots but with the same side plot #oh no i have ideas

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

You're nursing a crush on Eddie from afar but you're from the dark side, he hates you doesn't he? So you begin to leave anonymous notes to Eddie complimenting him.

Gareth finds out...but so does Jason and he wants revenge.

Warnings; Secret admirer, angst, mention of the word slut, little bit of fluff.

This has been my brainrot for the last few days, enjoy 🫶💌

💌💞

You knew Eddie hated you. Being from the dark side as he put it, there was no doubt that you were public enemy number one in Eddie's eyes. Quietly you nursed a crush on him that only grew with each passing day.

No one knew who your crush was, only that you were pining for someone who didn't like you back.

"You could have anyone at this school, Tina snaps why do you insist on pining over some loser who doesn't give a shit about you?" You didn't know how to answer that, you didn't want just anyone, you wanted Eddie.

But you could never tell him. He would think it was a joke or some ploy concocted by Jason, so you were left with only daydreams and small hopes that one day Eddie might notice you.

Secretly you began to leave anonymous notes in his locker, just little compliments to brighten his day and watched from the sidelines as he discovered each one, at first he angrily disregarded them as a joke. Then he softened and a faint blush would creep up his cheeks as he read your words, a small smile on his face once he realised that they were genuine.

One day Gareth caught you putting the note in Eddie's locker, looked at you stunned and with a questioning gaze.

"It's been you all along" you nod, eyes filling with tears at the thought of Eddie finding out and hating you even more.

"Please don't tell him. He already hates everything about me and my friends," Gareth still gapes at you as you gather your things and rush away from the scene.

... 💌

Gareth struggled with hiding who Eddie's secret admirer was, now he knew it was you and you begging him not to tell Eddie he was in a bind. What the hell was he supposed to do with this information? On one hand Eddie was his friend and he couldn't keep secrets for him.

On the other hand, you seemed really sweet and obviously had been crushing on Eddie for a long time. He didn't know what to do, so he turned to Jeff for advice and swore him to secrecy.

It was completely unknown to him that a seething Jason had heard everything and was planning to teach you a lesson. How could you like that freak Munson? He shakes his head in disgust and formulated a plan.

He waits until no one is around and steals a few notes you left Eddie from Eddie's locker.

... 💌

There's immense chatter as you head into the school the next day, Chrissy is furiously arguing with Jason which surprises you. Chrissy rarely if ever got mad.

"Look, here's the star of the show now" Jason sneers and you frown confused and push your way to the crowd in front of your locker.

Humiliation seeps into your bones as you see your notes to Eddie spread across your locker. Hellfire Slut is written in red ink. Jason is now howling with laughter, others look sympathetic but don't move to help.

Chrissy pushes past everyone and helps gather up the notes while glaring daggers at Jason, you offer her a weak smile.

Tears pool down your cheeks but what makes matters worse is that Eddie is standing rigid a little bit away from the whole scene and gazing at the notes. He knows everything now and your misery deepens.

You flee once his eyes meet yours.

💌

Eddie can feel the slow burn of rage course through his veins. He didn't like violence, it reminded him too much of his old man but just this once he lets the anger wash over him at the image of your tearstained face.

He walks calmly over to a smug Jason who looks ready to make some stupid comments. Eddie doesn't give him a chance, he punches the douchebag right in his face and then sets off to find you.

For a while Eddie searches for you but concedes that you must have gone home. His knuckle is bruised and bleeding from hitting Carver but he doesn't regret it.

Eddie hopes he can find you tomorrow so he can get some answers from you, he was rapidly falling in love with his anon admirer and if it really was you, he wanted to know.

It surprises Eddie that the thought of you being his admirer doesn't bother him. You're part of the dark side but so obviously different to Jason and his goons, and he was falling for you hard through those notes. Maybe he could finally get to know you for real?

Later as he heads back to the trailer, Wayne tuts as he sees Eddie's bruised knuckles and sighs. "Was it at least worth it son?" Eddie doesn't even have to think twice as he replies.

"Yeah Uncle Wayne, it really was"

💌

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x cheerleader!reader #eddie munson blurb

[noxturnalpascal]

My 2023 Fanfic-Wrapped

I only really started reading Pedro fanfic in April or May, I got started on some of the well-known fics on AO3 that were recommended on tiktok. However, one of them brought me to tumblr (because I wanted to see more from this author, I wanted to see their moodboards and their sneak peeks). And I haven’t left since.

I even decided to try my hand at writing as well. It’s been a LOT of fun. (My masterlist is here if you want to see all the weird shit I wrote so far). Thank you to everyone who has supported me in all my efforts and to all the friends I've made.

I wanted to create this list to highlight some of my faves this year. If you haven’t read these, they all come highly recommended by me.

I'll be reblogging everything on this list throughout the day. If you’d like to reblog this post and add some of your own favorites from this year - PLEASE DO!!!  I would absolutely love to get new recs!! Let’s share the love!!

In no particular Order - Here are some of my favorites from the year!

Fave Writers (I’ll read anything they write)

@toxicanonymity (joel miller masterlist) Personal Faves: NightWalks!Joel, Vamp!Joel (both Ongoing)

@theywhowriteandknowthings (masterlist) Personal Faves: Creep - Joel, Princess and the Duke - Dave York (Ongoing)

@chloeangelic (masterlist) Personal Faves: Love Me Back - Joel, Seeking What is Desirable - Joel (Ongoing)

@goodwithcheese (masterlist) Personal Faves: The Layover - Frankie, Paranoid Heart - Javi P (Ongoing)

@beskarandblasters (masterlist) Personal Faves: Me and My Husband - Din Djarin, New York or Nowhere - Bodega!Joel (Ongoing)

@absurdthirst (masterlist) Personal Faves: Kinktober 2023 Oct 15th - LactationKink!Dieter, A Marriage of Convenience - Regency!PeroTovar, (they have SO many good ones)

Fave Ongoing Series

Mall Rats (Jackson-era!Joel) by @strang3lov3

Oh! Honey (Monster!Joel x Mortician!Reader) by @lincolndjarin

Hard to be Soft, Tough to be Tender (Pimp!Joel) by @iamasaddie

On the Waterfront (Chubby!Mafia!Frankie) by @beefrobeefcal

The King’s Queen (Royalty/ArrangedMarriageAU!Javi G) by @wardenparker

From Eden (PlantShopOwner!Joel x Married!F!Reader) by @5oh5

A Lover’s Pinch (Professor!Joel x Student!Reader) by @hier--soir

Into the Beat of the Night (Bi!Frankie x afab!gn!OC) by @perotovar

Fave Finished Series

A Stranger’s Heart Without a Home (Jackson-era Joel) by @morning-star-joy (This is the one that brought me to tumblr. Doni created this beautiful story and it has a very special place in my heart.)

Late Night Texts (Post-Colombia Javier Peña) by @undercoverpena

Someone’s Wife in the Boat of Someone’s Husband (Married!No-Outbreak!Joel) by @netherfeildren

Something New (SexWorker!Frankie) by @prolix-yuy

Something Wretched About This (DrugDealer!Joel) by @covetyou

Pioneer Frankie (A series of stories about Pioneer!AU!Frankie) by @frannyzooey

Trial & Error (No-Outbreak!Joel helps Tommy & reader get pregnant) by @thetriumphantpanda

Pleased to Meet You (Meeting Francisco Morales - twice) by @intheorangebedroom

Fave Characters

Husband's Best Friend Joel Miller (with Married! Reader) (HBF!Joel) by @gracieispunk

Jackson-Era Vampire! Joel Miller (A Secret Worth Keeping) by @multiversed-daydreamer

Soccer-dad No-Outbreak Joel Miller gets a racy text from an unknown number (The Right Wrong Number) by @proxima-writes

Demon! Ezra (with Witch! Reader) (In Every Lifetime) by @xdaddysprincessxx

Protective Jackson-Era Joel Miller (A Safe Haven) by @joelsgreys

THROUPLE Frankie x Joel x F!Reader (Catalyst Masterlist) by @ezrasbirdie

Sleezy Gas Station Joel *MC* Miller (Meet Me in the Back) by @atticrissfinch

Porn Star Joel Miller (with Porn Star Reader) (I Know it When I See it) by @bageldaddy

Fave Dark/DDDNE Fics (These fics aren’t being put in the corner but they do come with some very special warnings so I wanted to separate them)

Trick or Treat? (DDDNE Dark!Frankie Morales x Dark!Joel Miller x Dark!Dave York x F!Reader) by @morallyinept

Bullet For You, Darlin’ (DDDNE Dark!Raider!Joel Miller) by @kewwrites

Online Friends (Cherry Bomb) (Dom!Joel, online/phone sex) by @walkintotheriveranddisappear

Blessed Be the Fruit (Dark!DubCon! Joel Miller - Handmaid’s Tale AU) by @romana-after-dark

Red Light (Dark!Obsessive!DubCon! Landlord Joel Miller) by @kiwisbell

The Burglary (DDDNE burglar!Joel Miller x f!reader x burglar!Tommy Miller) by @milla-frenchy and @aurorawritestoescape

I don't know man.... I just know I like it

Menuet (It’s an animal/shapeshifter/monster fucking thing (Pero Tovar) that fundamentally changed who I am as a person) by @psychedelic-ink

Liquid Gold (Joel - and Tommy? - help Pregnant!Reader out when an issue arises) by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

Get a Grip (Watch Model!Joel Miller x Manicurist!Reader Hand/GloveKink!) by @bonezone44

Mother Who Provides (Mommy!Kink Joel gets breastfed) by @pedge-page

Goodbye 2023, See you all next year!!!!

#fanfic wrapped #noxturnalpascal #pedro pascal characters #joel miller fanfiction #frankie morales fanfiction #din djarin fanfiction

[gretavangroupie]

The Ripe and The Ruin (Chapter 3)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader, OC x Reader

Word Count: 19.8k

Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Smoking, Angst, Anxiety, Embarrassment, Lying, Sexual Themes, Kissing, Oral M! Receiving, Protected Sex.

Find the Playlist Here: Apple Music | Spotify

A new series in collaboration with my talented co-writer @gretavanmoon.

"Like all good fruit, the balance of life is in the ripe and ruin."

AMSTERDAM, NETHERLANDS

HER POV

The heat of your breath is fogging up the windows of the van as you drift in and out of a dazy snooze. The morning has already been long, with a wake-up time of 3:30AM to be on the van to the airport by 4:00AM. The flight to Amsterdam from Hamburg was short, only a little over an hour long, thank goodness. However, now all you can think about is getting checked into your hotel room and crashing back out for a couple of hours before you have to wake up again. 

Paul, Wes, and Corri are occupying the seats toward the front of the van, and you’re thankful you can let your head rest on the window in peace. Your AirPods are stuck in your ears with the volume just loud enough that you could hear if one of them spoke to you, but still enough to fully enjoy the music floating through your ears. You don’t even dare listen to the playlist Jake made for you, it almost puts a sour taste in your mouth just looking at it, especially after what happened last night. 

Of course Josh caught you. Of course it had to be him. But what is really still throwing you for a loop is why Josh felt he had to keep the encounter such a secret, locking his lips and doing away with the key. 

Jake hadn’t said anything about your last addition of ‘High and Dry’, but you chalked it up to him just wanting to diffuse the situation after you left the bar, alone. You thought he might walk you back, given the situation you’d found yourself in just two nights prior, but he didn’t. He stayed, and let you go. And thankfully you’d made it back safely by yourself. 

The more you think about it, the more you realize Jake had plenty of time to text a quick ‘Sorry about that’ or ‘We’ll talk tomorrow, goodnight…’ but he didn’t. Again. Just left you….high and dry. And what made it even worse was that as you were trying to fall asleep in your hotel room last night, you heard the faint sound of the song playing out in the hallway. Jake was coming back to his room, listening to the song you added for him as he meandered closer and closer. But instead of a knock on your door, all you heard was the latch of his closing. 

You find yourself feeling a little pissed off, because the moment you shared in the dark bathroom really felt like something. It was…very fucking hot, if you’re being honest. He felt good. He felt strong, and sturdy, but also gentle and delicate when he needed to be. You can almost still feel how he felt between your legs, pressed up against you as you sat on the edge of the sink. His hands on your back, mouth on your neck, fingertips digging into your thighs….

“Y/N! Let’s get out of here!” You hear Corri’s brash voice wake you from your rated-R daydream, and you have to blink a few times to get the image of Jake all over you out of your head. You stretch a little and pull the music from your ears as the cab light comes on, and the four of you exit the van. You check into your far too luxurious hotel room, and crash onto the bed without even bothering to change your clothes. 

—

Your alarm startles you two hours later, and surprisingly the cat nap has you feeling extremely refreshed. You jump from the bed and pull the curtains on the window, showing you the scene of a cloudy Amsterdam from your fourth-story room. You can feel the cold air moving through the window, and you know it’s going to be another bitterly chilly day. 

After a quick rinse-shower, you sit back on the bed to check your phone and emails and see you have a text from an unknown number from just ten minutes ago.

Unknown

9:02AM: Hey! We’re going to go see the city and walk around a little, you want to go?

You deduce that it is probably Mia or Lyla, and you contemplate on whether or not you want to even move from your bed today. But after a little thought, and another glance to the sun barely peeking through the clouds, you decide, why the hell not. You don’t want to see Jake, really, but the regret you’d feel for not seeing Amsterdam while you’re here would probably be worse. You send up a quick prayer that Josh will keep your secret today, and not make things any more awkward than they already are. 

You

9:04AM: Hey, sure! I’d love to 😊

Unknown

9:05AM: Cool! We’re leaving in an hour, we’ll meet up in the lobby. Dress warm!

9:05AM: This is Lyla, btw

You

9:06AM: Sounds great, see you in a bit

You lock your phone and stand up to finish getting dressed, adding on a few more layers to your already warm attire. Your stomach churns with nerves, but you’re excited to see the city and maybe get to know the girls a little better. Plus, Ruth is begging you for photos. 

Speaking of Ruth…

You grab your phone and pull it from the charging cord, bringing up her contact for a FaceTime call. It rings out, and you press your eyeball directly to the front camera lens.

“Shit, what the hell, cyclops!” She yells as you pull away snickering. 

“Why is it so dark in your room?” you ask, realizing you hadn’t even thought about the time difference. 

“Because it’s two o’clock in the fuckin’ morning here, dimwit! I answered because you scared me. Are you okay?” she spouts off with her voice cracking from sleep. 

“Shit, I’m sorry. Yes, I’m fine,” you laugh a little as she rubs her eyes in the light of her phone screen. “I’m in Amsterdam, thought I’d give you a rundown but, you need to go back to sleep,” you say. 

“Ugh, if I didn’t have to wake up in three hours for work I would disagree with you. Yeah, just text me. Actually no, that will take too long. Send voice memos. Or a video or something.”

You take a quick breath. “I have a lot to tell you, Ruthie.”

“Fuck, seriously? Damn it, just…send something I don’t care. I gotta know. Is it bad news? It’s good news, right?” she goes on.

You roll your eyes a bit as you place your fingers over your mouth. “It’s…a lot. Good and, well not the best. Go back to sleep. I love you.”

“Kay nighty night.” Her last words were said with her eyes closed, and you know for a fact she’s already drifted back off into her slumber. 

You plop onto your bed and scroll social media for a few minutes as you try to kill time, feeling your stomach start to growl and grumble against the mattress below you. 

Maybe you should you add a song? 

No… You’d be seeing Jake in the next little bit, and you were the last one to make contact. This is up to him, if he even wants to. You stand and grab up your long, heavy coat, making sure you have everything you need for the day before taking off to the lobby to grab a quick breakfast and wait on everyone else. 

—

JAKE POV

The music swirling through the steamy air comes to a close as you spin the handle on the shower faucet, the water slowly trickling to a stop. The song she sent last night has been stuck in your head since you hung up with Isla, and you have let it be the soundtrack to your life in the hours since. You spent nearly the entire shower thinking about Y/N, listening along to the track and letting it seep into your bones. You thought about her, and only her for the past few days now. How you left her last night, and how you have yet to speak to her since. Even the plane ride this morning was spent in silence. You knew you needed to answer her song, say something to explain yourself. You were going to, you just had to figure it out, and now that you had time to sit down and think about it, uninterrupted, you would. 

Get out, dry off, get dressed and answer her. You had a plan, and you were sticking to it. 

You step out of the large walk in shower, wrapping the fluffy white towel around your waist. You take a second to look at your surroundings, remembering how only a few years ago you were all bringing towels from home, feeling lucky enough to shower in a rundown Motel 6 bathroom in the middle of nowhere. Your life had changed drastically in a matter of years, and it wasn’t long into that success when you first met Isla. 

She was a vision of auburn hair as she swept through the bar that night, so light and so carefree. You could see why Lyla and Sam had befriended her, her personality very much the same as theirs. It wasn’t long after that night that the two of you started seeing each other, things quickly becoming serious. A year later she moved into your house. It was like she was always there, making the space her own and sharing her days with you. She was with you as the band really started to make moves, never once complaining about the late nights or the long stretches of tour, that is, until she did. 

Things started to change last summer. The once light and vibrant girl you fell in love with had become catty and accusatory, her light burning out and her desire to be something other than your girlfriend dwindling away to nothing. It became her, consumed her, and suddenly you became an accessory instead of a partner. Nothing seemed to satisfy her anymore, and the time you could give her was never enough. She reminded you of that, often, as if there was anything you could do to change it. You fought like cats and dogs on any given day, each argument always ending in a band-aid resolution that never got you anywhere. 

There were the big ones, the ones that would have you on the couch at Josh’s or in the guest room at Sam’s. The ones they didn’t ask about because they knew better, instead opening their homes and lending their liquor cabinet. The ones that you didn’t dare mention, even months after the fact, for fear of starting it all over again. Those fights started to get closer and closer together, until you found yourself almost needing to chip in for your brothers’ mortgage payments.

You knew it was done. You knew it was over, but the problem wasn’t that you couldn’t do it. No, the problem was that every time you would try, it wouldn’t stick. Listening to her tell you that your reasons were never good enough, or that it would be too hard to end things before you left. It was always before you left, and this time was no different. 

Your phone buzzing on the bathroom counter snaps you back to reality, watching as it slowly inches its way closer and closer to the edge. You snatch it up as your hair drips down your back, sliding your finger across the glass as you scoff at the name on the Caller ID.

“Hello, Josh.”

“Oh, so they didn’t invite you either? Assholes…” he grumbles under his breath. 

“Invite me where? Who?” you ask, making your way back into the room.

“Sam and Daniel, and the girls I guess…” he pauses, “Just checked their location to see if they wanted to get brunch and they fucked off into town without us. Not even an invite.” 

“Really?” you ask, pulling your phone away from your ear to check your texts. “Shit, yeah, I didn’t get a text from them either. Though, I did tell them I was gonna catch a few more hours of sleep when we got here. Can’t you just go with Ty?” You groan, knowing you really planned to stay in your room all day and binge watch Criminal Minds.

“No. He went for a massage a little while ago, so now you have to go with me,” he says matter of factly. 

“Do I? I don’t think I do, actually.”

“No, you do, it’s in the rule book,” he answers, an air of playfulness in his voice. 

“The rule book…Don’t think I got one of those,” you joke, pulling on a pair of boxers. 

“Yeah, they give it to the head twin, you know, the first one out,” he laughs. “I’m in charge, the book says so, and I say brunch with a Mimosa. If you’re good I’ll even get you a Bloody Mary, my treat. Meet me downstairs in like fifteen,” he says, ending the call before you even have a chance to decline. Fucker, he knew you too well. 

You quickly dress yourself, checking your phone no less than five times just to see if maybe she had said something, but still there is silence. Your plan has officially gone to shit, no surprise there. You promised yourself you’d do it when you got back. No excuses. You huff out a sigh as you spray your cologne, grabbing your wallet and your phone and shoving them into your coat pocket. You make your way downstairs to meet Josh, finding him lounging in a wingback chair nearly double his size. 

“Let’s go before I change my mind,” you offer, watching him spring out of the chair, his white Nike’s scuffing loudly against the marble tiles. 

“Did you text Dean?” you ask, pushing open the glass doors. 

“Yeah, the place I want to go is just a block away, said to call him if we need him but keep our wits about us. Told him I would, but can’t speak for you since you don’t have any.”

You stop walking and start to turn around, definitely not in the headspace for his antics today. He stops too, and you feel him grab your arm and sling you back in the right direction. 

“Alright, alright, sheesh, no games today, got it,” he says, feigning guilt. 

You walk in silence the rest of the way, ducking into a little cafe with a heated patio. You felt like you hadn’t seen the sun in days and both of you quickly agree that the patio might be your only chance. 

Your eyes scan the menu, looking for any words that seem familiar to you. You’re about half way through it when Josh pulls your menu down and looks you in the eye. You know what he wants, and you know you have to tell him, but you need a drink first, at the very minimum. 

Saved by the bell your waiter comes to your table, taking your drink orders and rushing off before you could blink. 

As expected the grilling starts, and much to your dismay you are alone on the patio with no chance of anyone hearing the two of you bicker.

“Alright Jake, I let you sleep on it. Time to talk,” he starts, crossing his arms over his chest. 

You rub your hand over your face, truly not knowing where to begin. You let out a sigh, and he seems to pick up on your inner turmoil. 

“Start wherever, but I would probably choose the beginning.”

You move your fingers to your lips, looking at him with challenging eyes “What is it exactly that you want to know, Josh? I mean–”

“Cut the shit, Jake. What is going on? I want everything, top to bottom, now,” he snaps, aggression present in his tone. 

“You’re mad for no fuckin’ reason, Josh!”

“No, I’m mad for great reason, Jake! You’re out here fucking around with our runner, two days into the tour mind you, while your girlfriend is back in Nashville living in your home!” he seethes, his fists clenched tightly on top of the white tablecloth. 

Your blood is boiling as he finishes his tirade. “Knock it the fuck off, you know damn good and well she is not my girlfriend anymore!”

“Do I? Do I, Jake? Last I heard, you were ‘easing off for a little bit’...” he replies, gesturing air quotes.

“Do you honestly think that I would have been living in your house for the last month if we were ‘just ‘easing off’? You retort, gesturing the same air quotes. 

Josh sits back in his chair a little, his aggression backing off just a little bit, enough for you to keep talking. “Explain.”

You blow out a breath of frustration, “She doesn’t get it, Josh. I can’t seem to get it through her head.”

“What?”

You bite your lips together before you answer, “I have tried to end things no less than five times in the last few months. There’s always some reason… Always something that…Fuck, I don’t know. It just never sticks. She won’t hear it,” you pause, “I was serious this time though, Josh. I told her point blank, I do not want to be together anymore. It was like I was speaking fucking Latin, she refused to hear me. We were up the entire night arguing, man. It’s… It’s just so done, and I’m the only one who can see it apparently.”

“So if she won’t accept it, you’re still technically together, though? She’s still in the house?” he asks, rubbing his fingers over his beard. 

“Yeah, I mean, I guess? But also, No? The only way I could get the fuck out of that house in time to make it on the plane, was by agreeing to a ‘break’. But it’s not a break. I’m done, she knows I’m done. Told her she could still live in the house for a bit until she found her own place, but I told her, point blank, we needed to separate. No contact. You can see how that is going for her.”

“Does she know that you are…you know, seeing other people?” he asks, a bit of hesitancy in his voice. 

“Am I supposed to care? We aren’t together!” you argue. 

“But you kind of are Jacob!” he spits, “Look, I’m not trying to like, take her side here or whatever, but if she is under the impression you two are only on a break, I highly doubt she would be okay with you seeing other people. You’ll be labeled a cheater and god knows what else if she catches wind.”

“This is the messiest shit I have ever been a part of. I swear to god…” you groan, rubbing your hand over your face. “I seriously never thought I would find myself going through something like this.”

His brows pinch together in confusion, “So why didn’t you just say straight up, I want to separate, please move out of my home?”

“I mean, I kind of did, I think. It’s so much more complicated when you’ve been together as long as we have. We’ve had the exact same argument hundreds of times, that’s no exaggeration. She lives with me, man… I can’t just expect her to move out overnight, ya know? Which is why I agreed to the break. To give her time to…Get her shit together, I guess. But she knows I’m out. She has to know.”

“But she is still calling and texting you daily?” he asks. 

“All fucking day everyday. I never reply, and she still continues. As if– as if nothing ever happened. Like I said, she is just not getting it,” you explain. “Every time I would come stay at your place, she would just… come up with some reason, or some excuse to get me to come home for a few nights. We would just bandaid the problem, until it just exploded again and I’d end up back at your house or at Sam’s. But I had to be careful at Sam’s because Lyla is her best fuckin’ friend. You’d think she would have caught the drift after so many nights of me crashing there that things weren’t good. I don’t know, I hate this shit, I have suffered long enough. I want out. And I fear that when we get home, I might have to take more drastic measures. And I don’t want that shit, either.”

“So things are a lot worse than you initially led on…” he states, shaking his head as he sips from his glass. 

“Yeah, I guess so. Shit’s embarrassing, man. It’s rocky as hell and I don’t know what to do. I obviously still care for her as a person, but I just can’t do this with her anymore. I thought this time and space away from each other would help me get my head right and find a way to sort this shit out, but it seems like it’s only gotten worse and even more complicated since even a month ago, before we ever even left,” you continue. 

“And now there’s Y/N…” he grimaces, truly starting to understand your predicament. “I mean, it’s really only been, what, two days?”

You let out a sigh and shake your head, “Yeah, yeah. But I can honestly say that I have felt more in the last two days for Y/N than I have felt for Isla in the last year.”

“Do you think maybe… She’s…just a distraction from your real feelings? Like a space filler type of thing while you figure out shit with Isla?” he asks, broaching the subject very gently. “To be fair, I don’t blame you at all, she’s really gorgeous and a lovely girl from the little I’ve talked to her.”

“I know it looks that way, trust me. I do. But, no… It’s something else. I know it's only been two days, but there is something there, and I have to explore it,” you admit. “Like I said, I feel things I haven’t felt in so long. Not just physical things, either. And yeah, I know she works for us, and shit, but I– It was about two minutes into that plane ride that I knew it didn’t matter. I had to get to know her.”

“Answer me this, do you still love Isla?” he asks, leaning his elbows onto the table as he gives you that horribly painful twin stare that you both can only give to one another. The kind that pulls the truth from you no matter how badly you might not want to admit it. 

“I mean, I love her as a person, but no, I haven’t been in love with her in some time,” you confess. 

“In your mind is there any chance of reconciliation?” 

Your mind flashes through a hundred scenes of screaming fights, thrown objects, tears and accusations, “No. Not anymore,” you pause, rubbing your lips. “A week ago if you asked me that, I might have said maybe. It would be so easy to fall back into the good routine we had, everything would be good again for a little while at least, but it would change and we would be back to where we are now. Endless fuckin’ cycle. I can’t do that my whole life, Josh. I don’t deserve that. I was so excited about this leg of tour, just because she wasn’t coming. I could be alone and not go to bed mad and arguing every night. Do you know how fucked that is? That is not how I should feel about the person I am supposedly in love with. I should want her here, and I just don’t.”

He nods his head in agreement, sucking his teeth with a hiss. 

“Two days with Y/N has proven to me just how unhappy I am in that relationship with Isla. How much I’m just…not in love with her anymore. It only confirms my decision,” you admit. 

“So she’s calling and stuff to try and keep you strung along… So that you’ll come home and pick right back up on this nasty cycle the two of you are in…” he questions. 

“Basically. Which is why I refuse to engage with it. She can text all she wants, I’m not answering her,” you snap. “Things aren’t black and white for her, they are very gray and for me they are stark white. I don’t know how to make it more clear.”

He drops his head and looks up at you as he leans on his elbows again, “Look, I’m sorry. I had no idea. I won’t say anything to anyone about last night, or whatever is going on with you and Y/N. I want you to be happy, and I can tell you haven’t been in a long time. I’m just really sorry I was such an ass. I wish you would have talked to me, you know, like we used to.”

“I know, I know. It’s my own pride that stopped me. I just, I feel like I'm on the precipice of being happy again, I just have to keep following it, even if it looks really bad from the outside,” you pause, “Also, you guys have to stop picking on her, she is innocent in all of this. She already thinks you guys don’t like her.”

“Oh, that's just not true, we all like her a lot, you have to tell her we don’t mean it,” he laughs, tilting his head to the side as he tosses back the rest of his mimosa. “Wait, does she know about Isla?”

“No, absolutely not,” you answer a little too quickly. 

“Are you… planning on telling her?” 

“Honestly, I haven’t really thought that far ahead, I mean, I know I need to. I wasn’t really planning on Isla blowing my phone up day and night. Guess I should have known better, huh?” you laugh, offering him a small smile. 

“You need to tell her, Jake. Don’t fuck it up before you even get things started,” he offers. 

“Don’t you know that’s my specialty?” you ask, sipping your spicy bloody mary. “I mean, last night is a whole other problem. When you saw us out there I had every intention of leaving that bar with her and taking her back to the hotel. It was all I could think about. But then you were out there with my phone and the shit with Isla. Fuck…I panicked. I just sent her back to the hotel. Left her out to dry like a fucking prick. Haven’t spoken to her since. She probably wants nothing to do with me at this point.”

“No, no I doubt that. She’s probably a little hurt, maybe a little confused, but I think she will come around. I saw the way she was looking at you last night,” he smiles. “But Jake, seriously. You have to tell her about Isla.”

“God, I know it just, why would I even be thinking about Isla when I’m with her? I swear it’s like none of it exists when we are with each other. Everything is easy.”

“Sounds like you found yourself someone special,” he smiles. 

“I think you’re right.”

—

HER POV

The morning had been spent walking up and down the streets of Amsterdam, getting lost and finding your way again over and over as you navigated the map app on Danny’s phone. To your surprise, Jake and Josh hadn’t joined you. Just you, Sam, Danny, Lyla and Mia. It felt a little strange at first, and you felt the fifth-wheel anxiety hit you hard as you trailed behind them, the two couples happy and holding hands as you all explored. But luckily, at the last second, Dean joined you on the excursion, insisting that five of you needed an escort. 

You’d taken the time to speak to Dean and get to know him a little; he’s a big burly man with cheeks that stay red and a beard and mustache that hide his mouth. He’s middle aged, and a man of few words, but you were determined to break through his exterior just a little bit, seeing as how he is one of your coworkers. 

Now, as you all are heading back to the hotel with your arms full of various shopping bags and leftover food cart goodies, the conversation you’d worked so hard to start up with Dean is flowing freely. The two of you converse about the job, about travel, about where each of you are from and how you got hooked up with these crazy four. He’s fairly easy to talk to, and you find yourself very calm in his presence. 

“I heard about what went down at the restaurant the other night, Ms. Y/N. I’m so sorry that happened to you,” he admits as you watch Lyla and Mia pull the guys into a tiny boutique.

“Oh, no need to apologize,” you respond, a little surprised, “It was no big deal, really. I made a stupid mistake by going out alone that late, I learned my lesson. Just glad Jake was able to come help me out.”

“Still, it’s one of my responsibilities to make sure everyone is safe. Mr. Jacob made it very clear that you’re on that list, too.” He pulls his phone from his pocket and pushes a few buttons before speaking again. “I’m gonna get your number right now, so you never find yourself in a situation like that again.” You nod as you agree, knowing that you should have had his number saved a long time ago. You switch phones with him as you each enter your respective numbers, and he smiles as he locks his, pushing it back into the pocket of his coat. It hits you that Jake must have had a conversation with him.

“We’ve got more security coming, I’m sure you’ve heard. They should be here within the next few days. This is usually a one man job, but… I guess as the band gets more and more popular, these kinds of things just need to naturally grow along with them,” he explains, keeping his head on a swivel as he eyes each of them inside the store. “Turns into a team effort.”

You nod, pushing your windblown hair behind your ear before shoving your freezing hand back in your pocket. “I did hear about that. Bet it brings everyone peace of mind having more hands on deck, especially you,” you offer.

“Mmhm,” he replies, “Most definitely. I’ve met these guys before, think everybody will like them. Real straightforward outfit. I’m their head of security, but with the way this group operates, they’re probably gonna be calling most of the shots, if not all of them.” He sucks his teeth, and you can’t tell if he’s irked or maybe, a little bit relieved to have the help. 

“You gonna be alright with that?” you press, hoping you’re not stepping on his toes. 

He shrugs one shoulder, and you can see his eyes darting around behind his sunglasses. “I’m only one guy, Ms. Y/N.” His response is blunt, so you decide to leave it at that. 

You take a second to browse the boutique, meeting up again with Lyla and Mia and gushing over sweaters and dresses that none of you could ever afford, and for the first time in two days, you’d gone more than half an hour without thinking about Jake. As soon as the memory of him and what happened last night flows back into your brain, you almost double over with a strange anxiety. You pull out your phone again, checking to see if he has texted at all, or added anything to the playlist, but you’re met with nothing. Nothing.

“Let’s go get a drink or something!” Mia finally suggests to the group as you congregate in front of the store on the sidewalk, and everyone agrees. “Danny baby, pull up somewhere to go.”

“Let’s just take off walking again, we passed like fifty pubs on the way here,” he argues, bursting through the group and walking down the sidewalk again. The tension feels like it has dissipated for the most part; you have to admit that at first you were still a little worried that things might be a little strange between all of you. But as soon as you all got a couple of drinks in you, the anxiety melts away, and you find yourself laughing along and fitting right in with them. The girls are really cool, and Danny and Sam together keep the conversation going with ease.

An hour or so later, you’re unlocking your hotel door and stripping the layers of clothing off as you now have gotten a little sweaty from the heat mixed with the alcohol. The sun had popped out a little, only adding to your need for a giant bottle of water, and to relax across your bed. As you scroll social media and flick through TV channels in languages you can’t understand, you find your mind drifting back to Jake again. At this point, you know he isn’t going to text. He isn’t going to call, he isn’t going to add another song. If he was going to, he would have by now. You swallow down the realization, flipping to your back to push a pillow over your face. You think about calling Ruth, but at the same time, you hardly even feel like talking about it. 

Just as you're about to scream into the void, you hear a knock at your door. Who in the world? You stand up and adjust your clothing and hair, expecting Corri or Paul to be delivering you some information in person. You unlatch the deadbolt and swing the door open, finding none other than Jake leaning with one hand on your door frame, and the other gripping a single deep burgundy flower. 

“Hey…” he mumbles, biting his lip. 

“Hey, sorry, I wasn’t expecting you…” you fumble over your words, not only because you hadn’t spoken all day, but because he looked so overwhelmingly delicious standing there effortlessly dripping sex in your doorway that you almost catch yourself drooling. Loose, dark slacks, a black button up revealing his chest, his hair freshly washed and still damp around the roots… His skin is still glowing from the heat of his shower, and you can smell his body wash mixed in with that damn cologne he apparently carries with him everywhere. Your eyes flick to the flower hanging loosely from his fingertips before meeting his eyes again.

“I know, I should have called first, ‘m sorry…” he stumbles, pulling his hand from his pocket and swiping it across his nose. 

“No no, it’s fine, um… did you need… you wanna come inside?” you weren’t quite sure what to offer at this point; he wouldn’t have shown up if he didn’t want to talk.

He stands up straight now, smoothing his hands over his shirt and then placing them both in his pockets. “No, actually, I came by to see if you would want to go on a walk with me,” he asks, a shyness in his tone that feels new to you. “And to bring you this.”

He extends his hand, offering you the dark red flower, multi petaled and fragrant. “Saw it earlier at a flower stand and I…I don’t know, I thought of you. Thought you should have it.”

You accept it from his fingers, bringing it to your nose to take in its earthy smell, “It’s beautiful, what is it?”

“It’s a Dahlia, I believe. The vendor said it was a Black Dahlia, but it looks dark red to me. I don’t know, I just thought it was pretty. Thought of you.” he smiles nervously. You stare at him as you twist the flower under your nose and think about his question. 

“So, a walk?” you reiterate, finding the idea both exhausting and appealing, seeing as how you had just gotten back from an extremely lengthy one with everyone else. “I really should stay in tonight, I… dunno…”

“Please?” he asks, squinting his eyes. “Just a short one, we don’t have to go far. I just– I saw something cool today, and I thought you might like to see it, too. Wanna show you…”

You huff a little as you lean your head on the edge of the open door. His eyes are pleading, and you can tell there’s more to his little plan than simply showing you something.

Maybe he wants to talk. Maybe he wants to explain things… sort it all out…

“Okay. We can go. But, I have to get dressed first,” you say, already dreading putting all those layers back on, but not feeling so bad about it because now you’ll be with him. You feel a little reluctant, the pissed-off feeling you’d had all day still lying heavily present in your mind. But, he’s making an effort, at least…

“Take your time. I’m just a floor up, 507,” he starts to back away, the tiniest satisfied grin forming on his face. His eyes travel up and down your body so fast you almost miss it. “Just come knock when you’re ready.” 

You close the door as he rounds the corner to the elevator, and you can’t help but feel that rush of nerves fly up your body again. He didn’t call, he didn’t text, he came to your door. With a flower. God, what a gentleman. You place the flower on the dresser, your heart pounding at the sweet gesture. You rush into the bathroom to freshen everything up and spruce your tangled hair, brushing some powder across your face and adding a little more mascara. You re-apply your favorite perfume to your wrists and neck, taking a little extra time to make sure you looked presentable in the full-length mirror on the wall. 

When you feel as if your appearance is as good as it's gonna get, you sit on your bed, wanting to make Jake wait for you just a little bit longer. You go ahead and pull up a facetime call with Ruth, waiting for the tone to ring out. 

The screen opens with Ruth holding up one finger, mouthing for you to hang on as she finishes out what looks to be a very annoying phone call with a client. She spins in her chair as she rolls her eyes, letting her head look at the ceiling as she uses her formal, professional voice to end the call.

“...You have an excellent day, ma’am. Mhm. Thank you, Buh-bye,” she presses a button on her phone and rips her headset off, fumbling for her airpods as she picks up her phone. “Oh my GOD today has been insane and I hate everything,” she complains as you watch the screen fill up with her face, and you hear the sound of her acrylic nails tapping all over her screen. You patiently wait, watching her loudly chew her gum, knowing that she has to clear away her notifications before she can even begin to have an uninterrupted conversation with you. “Okay I’m ready what the fuck has happened?!” 

You laugh, giving her the rundown of everything that happened since you last spoke, her facial expressions letting you know she is hanging on your every word. “...And now, he just showed up at my fucking door, and asked me on a date, I guess? After basically dry humping me in the bathroom then sending me home without another word,” you finish, whispering your words as if he could hear you. “I dunno, Ruth. Should I even go?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?! Yes you should go. Give him a chance to explain, at least. He wouldn’t have shown up to your door if he didn’t really want you to come, ya know?” she says, immediately noticing her word choice, and slyly smiling as she bounced her eyebrows.  

“Shut the fuck up. Ugh, yeah, you’re right. Does this outfit look okay?” you stand back and flip the camera around showing her yourself in the mirror. 

“Slayyyyyyyy that jacket is hot, where on earth did you even get it?!” she rolls her eyes. 

“From you. For my birthday. When you found out I was going to a colder climate,” you laugh. “Okay, I'm gonna go, I guess. I’ll text you later.”

“Live updates, please. I want to know the way this man ticks,” she teases.

“Shut up. Bye.” You end the call and grab your purse, making sure your room key is in your bag. You also make sure to grab the jacket Jake sent you home in last night, not able to bear another second staring at it draped across the back of the chair. 

—

“Thought you might want this back,” you say when Jake opens the door, taking the coat from your outstretched hand.

He smirks as he takes it, tossing it behind him to land on some unknown surface. “Looks better on you, but it’s one of only three jackets I brought with me.” You both laugh a little as you make your way down the hall and to the elevator. The whole ride down is silent, with both of you standing at opposite sides, more or less feeling no shame in drinking the other in. His arms and ankles are crossed as the elevator descends, and you can feel his eyes boring into you. 

“You look really nice today,” he offers as you exit the lobby and head back out into the freezing cold air. 

“Thank you,” you reply shyly, feeling the blush creep to your cheeks. “So do you…” you wanted to gush about how perfectly his hair is sitting around his face, how his shirt and jacket are hanging across his shoulders, how poised he just always seems to be without even trying… but you don’t. You hope to god you don’t run into any of his brothers, or anyone that you work with; coming up with an explanation why the two of you are out alone together again is something you truly don’t feel like dealing with right now. “So where are we going?”

“It’s called The Jordaan. It’s a really old neighborhood, with a canal going through the center. Bunch of little shops and stuff. Did you guys walk this way this morning?” you notice the lilt in his voice. 

You shake your head. “No, we went the opposite way,” you answer. It’s quiet for just a minute more as you pass by the crowds and other people on the streets. “Why didn’t you and Josh come along?”

He takes a quick breath. “Eh, we didn’t really receive an invite, honestly,” he laughs, stroking his fingers over his mustache. “Had to be Lyla or Mia’s idea to go, if I had to guess.” He was right, but you still felt bad. “But it was okay, me and Josh went to eat and got to… talk a little without the interruption of the other two. Kinda rare these days,” he smiles, and his knuckles brush across yours just barely. The light touch sends your bloodstream to a raging fire, and you have to stifle down the pull to grab his hand altogether. 

The sun is peeking through the heavy cloud cover of the evening, and you find yourself staring at the way Jake’s pulled his sunglasses to sit on top of his head, letting the gleam of the sunlight bounce into his mocha colored irises. He looks you in the eye each and every time he speaks, and commands your complete attention away from everything else around you. You’re pulled into him, letting your bodies barely touch and move together as you walk along. This attraction feels different than the heated, blurry, intense pull you had to one another last night. This feels innocent, even though you both know that it’s anything but. 

You turn a corner as you come along to the long line of homes and buildings, multicolored and old in their exteriors but, still holding just the right amount of charm to be an attraction. You catch yourself looking above to see the craftsmanship of them. “Wow…” you exclaim quietly as you peer up at the finely detailed architecture, staring in awe at the shape they are still in. You pull your phone from your pocket and start to take photos, zooming in on the details and making a mental note to send them straight to Ruth later. 

You walk up onto a little footbridge lined with parked bikes and people stopped to take photos. Suddenly Jake is behind you, barely resting his chin on your shoulder. “Gimme your phone, let me take your picture,” he murmurs in your ear. 

“Oh no, that’s okay…” Before the words can even escape your lips, he’s snatched your phone and started backing up, glancing behind him and back to your phone every few seconds. 

“You’re really good at taking my phone away and doing whatever you want with it, you know!” you yell at him in aggravation. 

He motions his free hand for you to scoot sideways, and then again for you to stop where you are. He snaps a few, turning the phone on its side to get every angle he can. You stand a bit awkwardly, hating that people are having to stop when they notice they are walking in line of the photo. Finally he finishes and rushes back over to you. “They look good! See?” he says, handing your phone back and swiping through them with you. “Now you’ll have record.”

You walk past a few secondhand shops and stores, and suddenly, something in one of the windows catches your eye. “Oh my god, look at that!” you squeal, pointing to a glimmering red dress sitting perfectly on a mannequin. It isn’t like any dress you’d seen before; it looks vintage, bright cherry red velvet with sewn-in sequins weaved throughout. It’s tight, but not too tight, and short and lacking fabric in all the right places. 

“Damn, you should go try it on!” Jake exclaims, obviously agreeing with your surprise at how pretty it is. 

“Nah, I shouldn’t…” you say, walking away from the window. 

“No, you should, actually. That dress is hot, Y/N,” he says, elbowing you in the ribs. “And I think you’d make it a hundred times hotter.”

You scoff. “Be quiet, no I would not.”

“Prove me wrong, then,” he challenges with a smirk, opening the door to the shop, and holding his hand out to invite you inside. 

You step inside, and are immediately greeted by a man dressed in a formal tuxedo. He notices that you are not local during his greeting, and switches to rough English.

“Eyeballing the red number, are you madam? Give me one second, I’ll grab it off the mannequin for you,” you and Jake lock eyes as the man flits away, straight for the window. He raises his eyebrows in anticipation and gives you a grin so adorable you almost melt into putty right there in the store. 

“Here you are ma’am, please, be careful, very old dress,” he explains, handing you the dress on a hanger and opening a curtain for you to go behind. 

“Go ahead,” Jake mouths, pushing you into the small dressing room. 

You stand almost naked in front of the mirror as you slip the soft, tight fabric over your thighs, your stomach, and finally over your shoulders. Jake was right, it fits you perfectly. The velvet material snatches your waist and bust, and cuts right above your knee. Its sequins shimmer in the overhead light, but aren’t so overwhelming that it looks showy. It’s something you could dress up, or dress down. You reach behind you and pull the zipper up only halfway. Of course.

You take a deep breath and pull the curtain back, finding Jake to have taken a seat on a plush maroon ottoman. His jaw drops as you walk toward him, and yet again, you feel the heat rise in your face. You continue walking toward him, turning at the last second with your back to him, pulling your hair to the side. “Finish doing me up?” you say, immediately realizing that could be taken in a way you didn’t really mean. But also kind of mean, if you’re being honest. 

You hear him swallow and he stands, and feel his warm hand slowly grip the zipper and pull it up, his other hand resting gently on the back of your hip, this thumb barely squeezing at the muscle. He takes his time, moving the zipper at the slowest pace imaginable. “Everything alright back there?” you whisper over your shoulder, hearing your own voice tremble. 

You hear the air push from his nose as he leans in a little closer. “Just taking my time… might be the only time I get to touch you this way…”

Your eyelids flutter closed at his words. You lick your lips, trying to calm your second heartbeat. “What makes you think this will be the only time?”

He finishes the zip, spinning you to turn and face him. He shrugs one shoulder. “Just don’t wanna get my hopes up,” he growls. “Take that as a compliment…if you wear that out in public, I wouldn’t stand a chance against the hordes of guys that would be following you around.”

You scoff at him, and the absolute absurdity of his statement. He has no idea how pretty he is, does he?

“Shh. That’s a lie,” you say as you turn back and motion for him to unzip you. He does, this time with a little more haste. You make your way back into the dressing room and switch back into your clothing, hanging the beautiful specimen back on the hanger the man had provided you with. 

“What? You’re not getting it?!” Jake stands as you make your way back toward the employee.

“No, Jake! I can’t buy that! It’s too–”

“Perfect? Because you looked… I–I can’t even explain… You have to get it, Y/N,” he argues.

You hand the dress back to the man in the suit. “No. I wouldn’t even have anywhere to wear something like that…” you go on, internally screaming at how badly you really would like to have it. 

“Let me get it for you, then,” Jake says. “It’s not even that expensive…”

“NO!” you squeal. “I mean, no thank you. Please, Jake. It’s completely fine,” you say as you begin to walk toward the exit. You simply could not let him buy this for you. No. Huh-uh. Absolutely the hell not. 

He reluctantly follows you out of the store, still playfully going on and on about how you just made a huge mistake. You turn and face him, your face only inches from his. You grab both of his hands in yours, snickering a little at the surprised look on his face. “Jake, I appreciate the compliments, but I’d really like to get on with our date, now.”

JAKE POV

Her words send a shockwave through your system. “Date? So it’s a date now?” you ask, your hands cupped in hers as he looks you in the eyes. 

She turns and begins walking again, and you have to physically tell yourself to move your legs and follow along. “You came to my door, asked me to go on a walk because you wanted to show me a certain specific special thing… now we’re exploring and talking and trying on dresses, I’d qualify this as a date,” she turns and gives you a teasing look of intrigue. “Just missing the food part, but I think it would still count.” 

A smile comes to your lips as you realize she’s right. “You hungry?” you ask, finally catching up with her. 

“No, I’m just kidding. Let’s go down to the riverside,” she points a little ways away, seeing that there is a sidewalk that runs alongside the water. 

You stuff your hands in your pockets as you trudge along, the two of you taking in the scenery and the water beside you. The air is still blowing cold, but neither of you seem to mind. “So if we’re gonna qualify this as a date, maybe we should get to know each other a little better,” you suggest, earning a scoff from her. 

“Seems a little backwards seeing as how we kinda already–”

“I know, I know,” you laugh. “Um, let’s see. Did you play any sports in school?” you ask. 

“I played volleyball all four years, golfed with my dad on the weekends sometimes when he was around… Other than that, not really,” she explains.

“Shit, don’t tell Danny you like golf,” you go on. “He’ll capture you in a week-long conversation and then ask you to go play a round in every country we visit,” you laugh. 

“Ummm, what’s your favorite holiday? And you can’t pick Christmas…” she says, pushing her pointer finger into your shoulder. 

“Hmm, so, I think it’s a tie between the Fourth of July and Thanksgiving, because in July we’re always out of the country somewhere really beautiful, or we’re all at home blowing shit up together. I’m always really happy that time of year. And then Thanksgiving, because I will eat the fuck out of mashed potatoes any chance I get,” you say. 

She laughs again, the sounds of her voice making your insides warm. “Your answer was better than mine!” 

“Let’s see… What's your best friend’s name?” Noticing that she hasn’t really mentioned anyone.

“My best friend’s name is Ruth, we’ve been friends since elementary school. She’s… a complete idiot,” she laughs. “We still talk pretty much daily about anything and everything,” she explains. “Don’t have any secrets.”

“Oh so, she’s… getting the rundown of your whole European adventure in real time, isn't she?” you ask, wondering if she had been giving her a play by play of the whirlwind last few days you'd shared together. 

She purses her lips and squints her eyes as her hand brushes past yours. “Guess you could say that…”

“Damn!” you laugh, feeling embarrassed. “Don’t tell me you included our bar bathroom escapade…”

Suddenly she’s tripping over her words. “I mean... No! I told her a little but like, not details or anything ya know, but she…I–” 

“So she knows we almost hooked up but thankfully stopped just in time that my brother didn’t catch things getting too out of hand…” you say confidently, wanting to see the blush rush her cheeks again. 

She stops, standing stiff in her place. “Okay, Jake. Caught me. Sue me, shit.”

You continue walking, pulling her along by the hand. “I’m kidding, I don’t care. I hope to meet her one day.”

She looks at you from the side of her eye, “I hope you do, too. Okay, who’s your best friend?”

“You really want me to answer that?” You’re surprised she can’t already tell. “I’ve got three built right in. All three pains in my ass but I love ‘em.”

“How sweet, Jake. Man, you do have a heart under there, somewhere!” she teases. 

“Of course I do baby, I’m actually a sweetheart, didn’t you know?” you respond in a very piratical voice. “Alright, favorite music genre. This is the big one, answer carefully…”

“Ahhh, well…” she looks to the ground, truly contemplating her answer. “You already know the Alt-J stuff you added was way out of my normal choice, I actually listen to um, a lot of harder stuff, I guess you could say. Some metal, hard rock, also older country, some psych stuff. It runs the whole gambit,” she laughs, seeming like she was shy to admit it all. 

“Wow,” you say. “So like, almost the exact opposite of what we’re into.”

“Kind of, I mean it probably overlaps… I love the stuff you’ve added to the list. And I’m sure there’s a few classic dad rock songs you like, don’t lie…” she smiles. 

“Ehhh,” you argue, “Maybe a few…” you feel a sudden slight disappointment in the fact that the two of you probably will not be able to talk music much. But, that’s okay…

“Me and my dad used to go to rock shows a lot when I was a kid. I’ve seen all the country greats a few times a piece. Just something about that sound, you know? Reminds me of home, it’s very nostalgic… I’m sorry, I’m rambling…” she says, brushing the hair from her face as you find yourself enraptured in her words. 

“No, no… it’s okay, ramble on…”

Light bulb. 

You sneakily pull your phone from your pocket, adding that very song to the playlist, hoping she won't notice right off the bat, but hoping she will understand soon that you would listen to her ramble all day long. As she continues to talk, you can’t help but notice all the ways that she is so different from Isla. Like night and day. She listens to you when you speak, she doesn’t ever come at you with condescending words unless she’s being playful, she is sure of herself, and confident…and gives you that feeling down deep in your gut that tells you she’s something special. Though you’ve only known her a few days, it’s already obvious that she offers every single thing that Isla doesn’t, never has, and most likely never will. Instead of the uneasy, walking on eggshells feeling that you have everytime you’re with Isla, you get the confident, self-assured and joyful feeling in Y/N’s presence. And something is telling you to hold onto it. 

Speaking of Isla… you really need to tell Y/N about her. It’s only right. It isn’t fair to her that she doesn’t have a clue, you wouldn’t have wanted to be left in the dark if the roles were reversed. You swallow, opening your mouth to start the conversation without having a clue where to even begin. But your thoughts are interrupted by Y/N’s sweet voice bringing you back down to earth again. 

“I know you bargained for a short walk, but what if we went up there to that little pub and see what they have to offer?” she asks, smiling a toothy grin.

Maybe the time isn’t now…

“Lead the way, love.”

—

HER POV

Warm. Everything is just so warm. Your body, your face, his smile. Warm. The room is a dull hum of noise around you, your world growing still as he sits in front of you. You watch him in wonder as he talks about music and his passions, your face propped up on your fist. You know you must look positively smitten, and to be honest you kind of are. The two of you are giggling back and forth, even though nothing is really that funny. But that was the beauty of it. You can tell you are blinking slowly and try to reign it in as the nearly half a liter of beer swirls through your bloodstream. You can’t help but smile at him while he talks, his eyes locked on yours as a smile stretches across his own face. 

You wonder how he is even able to hold a conversation right now, your brain reduced to mush as you continue to sip on your beer. He’s happy, you can tell, a dimple has appeared in his cheek and hasn’t left in nearly an hour. You can’t stop looking at it, at him. Everything about him. The twinkle lights over head have cast a perfect yellow glow on his tan skin, just as the sun starts to dip down below the river the two of you walked here from.

“You still with me, beautiful?” he asks, his knuckles brushing against yours. 

“I’m here, but barely.” you laugh, “Why aren’t you feeling the alcohol yet?” you tease, taking a rather large gulp of your beer.  You know he definitely has a higher tolerance than you do, but you can tell he is a little more smiley than usual. You place the large glass tankard back on the table as he stares at you, his eyes wide and sparkling. 

“What?” you ask, feeling a bit bashful in your drunken state. 

“You’re just…so– you’re just really pretty and it makes me feel, I don’t know, shy I guess,” he answers truthfully, biting his lips together nervously. 

You feel your chest burst into flames, the heat radiating up your face to your already flushed cheeks. 

“I like it when you blush,” he breathes, which of course makes you blush harder. “Like it best when it’s because of me.”

You feel all of your nervousness and anxiety melting away as he looks at you, and suddenly with the help of the beer, you feel brave enough to ask the question that has been on your mind all day. 

“Jake?”

He nods his head ever so slightly, letting his fingertips drift across your knuckles. 

“Why didn’t you answer? My song, how come you didn’t say anything?” you ask, swallowing down your last bit of nervousness. 

He drops his head a little, grabbing your hand in his, letting his thumb skate across your skin. “I searched and searched for a song that I could respond with last night. One that would articulate what I wanted to say, but I just…I couldn’t find one. I felt like absolute shit after you left, Y/N. Really, I did. I fell asleep with that damn song on replay until my alarm went off this morning. It got in my head, and that’s when I decided I wanted to go on this walk today. Make it up to you.”

You stare at him for just a second, letting a smile slowly creep to your lips. He notices and you watch him as he visibly relaxes. He was nervous, too. 

His eyes are locked on yours, both of you saying a thousand things with zero words. You let his words sink in, storing away each one until your heart feels a little bit lighter. 

“Well, you better think of a good one tonight,” you tease, rubbing your thumb against his. 

His phone buzzes on the table top, his eyes flashing down to it, then to you in panic. 

“It’s fine,” you nod, gesturing for him to grab it. “I don’t mind, really.”

He picks it up and clears his throat, the loss of his hand from yours stings a little but you know he will do it again. 

“From Josh,” he starts reading the message out loud, “Where are you? I knocked on your door and you didn’t answer.”

He smiles and laughs as his thumbs type back a response. 

“Oh, another one,” he pauses, “We’re meeting up for dinner, just the guys, in an hour.”

His face drops a little, his eyes looking across the table to you. He locks his phone and sets it back on the table, his hand seeking yours out again. 

“We should probably get going if you’re gonna make it back in time,” you offer, taking another sip of your beer. 

He lets out a painful sigh, “I don’t really want to. I want to stay out…with you. I see them all the time.”

“No, no, no, you’re in Amsterdam with your brothers. They want to see you. Don’t change your plans around for me,” you insist. 

He looks conflicted, you can tell he really does want to stay here with you, but he also knows he needs to meet up with them. 

“Well, what about you? What will you do?” he asks, tracing his index finger around your hand. 

You smile and shake your head, “Don’t worry about me, I’ll probably just go back to my room and do whatever it was I was going to do before you knocked on the door.”

He smiles and nods, licking his lips before speaking again, “If you’re sure, this is supposed to be me making it up to you for leaving you last night, now I seem to be doing it again.”

“Wanna know a secret?” 

He raises his eyebrows in question, ready to hear your answer.

“I forgave you for that about two minutes into our walk,” you smile, squeezing his hand in yours. 

—

He walks with you back to the hotel, his hand never leaving yours for a second. His grip is firm and warm, everything you ever dreamed of. You talk about the shops and the sights, and he tries again to convince you to buy that dress, bartering that he was going to have to go back and buy it himself if you refused. 

As you step up to the hotel door you pause, turning and looking at him in the glow of the streetlights. “You don’t have to walk me all the way up, I think I can find it.” you tease. 

“Alright, well, um, can I text you?” he asks, his tone reverting back to that of a nervous fifteen year old boy. 

You feel the butterflies taking flight in your stomach, flapping their wings so hard you feel like you might take off with them. “Yeah, you can text me whenever you want to.”

A huge smile spreads across his face, “Yeah, alright, cool. I’ll um, I’ll text you then.”

“I’ll be waiting,” you answer, watching him stifle back his smile as he steps back a bit, bringing your hand to his lips. He places a soft and gentle kiss to the top of your hand, his cold lips barely grazing your skin, and sending a jolt of electricity through you. 

“Won’t be long,” he smiles, stepping away and turning to head back down the street. 

—

JAKE POV

You follow the walk route to the pin that Josh had dropped, finding yourself at a tiny pub down a back alleyway of a street. The place is crowded and warm, ambient lights with the damp smell of cigars lingering in the air. You mosy through the crowd, hoping that no one recognizes you and stops you for a drunken conversation or autograph. 

Luckily it doesn’t happen, and you find Danny, Sam, and Josh tucked away at a high-top table in the corner. “There he is! Took you long enough!” Danny yells over the loud crowd, the first one of them to spot you. 

The other two turn to face you, pulling your stool out for you to take. “Your beer is probably warm, now…sorry,” Sam says, pointing to yet another giant mug of beer, just the same as the one you’d just finished off. 

“Fuck, thanks…” you say, tiptoeing to hop up onto the high stool. You simply can’t help the shit-eating grin that’s plastered across your face, even with all the maximum effort you have left in you. You take a large sip, finding the beer to still be fairly cold. 

“Where have you been already today? You look flushed and far too jovial…” Josh presses, rubbing his hands together with his elbows resting on the table. 

“Cold outside,” you say, shooting him a look. 

The bullshitting and argumentative discussions commence as everyone obviously begins to feel their alcohol, and you take the distracted time out to text Y/N, letting her know you made it safely. 

You

9:18PM: I’m here, but already wishing I never left

You attach a quick photo of your giant beer, and include the eye-rolling emoji.

Y/N

9:20PM: omg 😂 good luck choking another one down

You

9:21PM: Ye have little faith 🍺 

A minute later you receive a photo of her room service sprawled out across the bed in front of her, chicken fingers and fries and some type of dipping sauce. You smirk at how cute she probably looks in whatever outfit she chose to get comfy in, and wonder what she looks like. You notice the TV in the background, and recognize the movie that she has playing. 

You

9:24PM: Looks tasty

9:24PM: Damn, is that Wedding Crashers?

Y/N

9:25PM: Yes, I fucking love this movie

You run your hand over your face. 

You

9:26PM: That sucks, I quite literally can’t stand that movie 

Y/N:

9:26PM: 😱😱😱😱😱😱

9:26PM: You’re insane, this is one of my favorite movies of all time! Why do you hate it!

You

9:27PM: Dunno, not a sucker for cheap comedy I suppose

You’re interrupted by Sam’s snapping fingers in your face. “Hellooooo, Jake, you with us? Tell Isla to leave you the fuck alone, it’s guys’ night!” 

You feel your eyes widen at his comment and glance at Josh, who is mirroring your exact expression behind his folded hands. 

“Uh, sorry, sorry yeah.” You put your phone down on the table and try your best to be present with them, getting caught up in your normal absurd conversation. Your phone continues to light up and buzz on the table. 

“You gonna get that?” Josh asks slowly and quietly, just loud enough for you to hear. You ignore him, finishing off the last bit of your beer that went down exceptionally quicker than you thought it would. Everyone is sufficiently intoxicated, and you have to admit, you’re having a really great time letting loose. The drinks are flowing, and the air is high-spirited all the way around. Danny is taking funny videos of Sam and Josh as they try their hand at some type of trick with a coin and a bottle cap, so you take the second to check your phone again. But what you see brings your serotonin level down just a notch. 

Isla

10:12PM: Hey, what’s up?

10:27PM: Why aren’t you answering me babe :(

10:29PM: I miss youuuuu, you never called back last night

10:33PM: Saw Danny’s close friends story, glad to see you having fun ignoring my texts! 👋🏼

10:37PM: Can you accept my location request

10:42PM: I can see your phone in front of you Jake

You roll your eyes and mutter a quiet oh…my…god, rubbing your eyes with the palms of your hands. 

“What’s up?” Josh asks, and you turn your phone for him to see. His eyes instantly widen as he reads. 

“This…is the shit I’ve dealt with for the last three years. I can’t—” you cut yourself off, feeling your jaw clenching with aggravation. 

Josh settles back in his chair. “Fuck, I had no idea…”

“What, what is it?” Sam and Danny basically simultaneously ask, seeing the disdain falling over the both of you at the same time. 

“Nothin’, just a sad video,” Josh lies. 

You decide to let Isla’s antics roll off your shoulders; you’re having too good of a night to let her whining bring you down. Things with Y/N are starting to heat up, and you find your tipsy self teetering on the edge of risk. You pull her texts up again, finding that she had responded a while ago.

Y/N

9:30PM: You’re crazy, this movie is fuckin hilarious

You decide to change up the game a bit, adding a song that reflects exactly how you’re feeling right now. You scroll through your library and land on it, bringing up the option to add it to your shared playlist. It’s perfect, ‘In the Mood For You’ by The Record Company. 

She responds with a text a minute later, a string of five or six laughing emojis. You’re then met with a song addition on her end, ‘Are You Sure?’ by Willie Nelson. 

Holy shit holy shit. You feel your stomach get warm and your head starts to swim at the thought of where this could go, where you want it to go. You take a deep breath as the excitement builds in your system, and you can physically feel your body getting warm. You want to scream. Your eyes begin to cross a little as your thumbs hover over the screen, flicking around as you decide what to do. 

The next thing you know, Sam is setting another beer in front of your face, this one thankfully much, much smaller than the other one you had just finished off. Mother fucker...Gonna be very drunk.

You decide to skip out on a text, keeping this little game the two of you have going. You pull up the song search, adding ‘No One Else’ by Weezer. Perfect. 

Seconds later, you receive a text. 

Y/N

10:56PM: I’ll think about it…….

You feel your cheeks grow pink. 

Just then another comes through from Isla. 

Isla

10:57PM: Ignoring me isn’t going to fix anything, Jacob.

You scoff, shaking your head. You turn the phone to Josh again. 

“God, block her fucking number. I’m so serious,” his voice raises a little, laced with a protective tone. 

You ignore it, flipping back over to your texts with Y/N, suddenly feeling emboldened. 

You

10:59PM: Think about what, exactly? 

You lick your lips as you set the phone down, glancing around to see no one paying attention to you all up in your phone again. A minute later, you receive a photo. You click the message and watch as the attachment comes to life. 

It’s a selfie of Y/N sitting on the edge of the bed, dressed in a barely-there black silk pajama set, with the object of the photo obviously the empty side of the bed behind her. 

Y/N

11:01PM: You, here.

Son of a fucking bitch, she is gonna be the death of you. You pull your phone up so no one can see the picture, and you take a second to stare at her soft skin in the silk material, her hair a little messy but lying perfectly. She’s smiling just a little, and the dim light is bouncing off her features in all the right areas. 

You

11:03PM: Absolutely stunning

11:03PM: Are YOU sure?

Your heart is positively racing, watching as her text bubble pops up. 

Y/N

11:04PM: Only if you want to…

As the breath hitches in your throat as you’ve quite literally forgotten how to breathe, you take a second more, starting in on the beer Sam had provided. You lock your phone, trying to make up your mind of how to answer. What to do, what to do…

You finally decide to reply with a bold text. 

You

11:06PM: I think I can make that happen…😉

11:06PM: We shouldn’t be much longer

You get dragged back into conversation with the guys, and fifteen or so minutes later, everyone is gearing up to leave. You glance down at your phone a few minutes later, seeing that she hasn’t responded. Weird. 

Everyone stands to leave, and the alcohol hits you in the face. Yeah, pretty fairly intoxicated. You exit the building, feeling someone standing behind, close by. You turn to see Dean bringing up the rear of the group. “Whoa, where did you come from you scary motherfucker?” you tease, earning a big, warm smile from him.

“Been sitting at the bar all evening, Mr. Jake,” he responds, pointing for you to catch up with the rest of them. 

You rest a heavy hand on his shoulder. “You’re really good at your job, Dean. I never even knew you were there, should have come and had a drink with us.” You feel your words slurring a bit. Just then, you feel your phone buzzing in your pocket incessantly. 

“I wet my whistle with a shot of Jameson as soon as we got there, water the rest of the night,” he replies without looking at you. You laugh and step to the side a bit, pulling your phone out to see Isla calling. Fucking son of a bitch. You slide to answer it. 

“What, Isla? Fuck!” your tone is a bit more harsh than you had expected, but warranted nonetheless. 

Then, all you can hear on the other line is a rush of screams and yells, her voice loud and her words cramming as she lets you know how she feels. You pull the phone away from your ear, holding it there until you find a chance to speak again. 

“Whoa, whoa, slow down, can you–”

Her screams continue, and you realize exactly how this is going to go. How it’s gone hundreds of times before. She’s not gonna let you speak. And honestly, you’re too intoxicated to talk, anyway. You set it to speakerphone as Josh falls back to walk with you. You shake your head as you allow your twin to listen to her incessant rambling. “You hear this shit?” you mumble. The two of you listen for a second more before you realize you can’t do it anymore. 

“Isla, I’m hanging the phone up. Call me when you can have a mature conversation. Bye.” You don’t even wait for her to retaliate before pressing the big red button. In a huff, you bring up your text thread to see if Y/N has responded. Like the gods of divine intervention decided to reign down their bad luck upon you, you find that you had in fact sent those last two risky texts, to Isla.

“FUCK!” you yell, stopping in your tracks, hitting your palm to your forehead. “Fuck fuck fuck!” How could you have been so stupid?! Of course she had a reason to call and yell at you…

Your fingers move to Y/N’s thread, and you see that you were the one who had left her on read. You’re in the lobby of the hotel now, and everyone is dispersing to head to the elevator or down the halls to their respective rooms. You snap away for a second to tell them goodnight, before deciding to take the stairs up to your room. You needed a second, and to work off some of your drunkenness. 

You finally pop into your room, feeling completely idiotic for accidentally sending the right text to the wrong number. You splash some cold water on your face, hoping it will bring you back to earth a little bit, but finding it to have only made your splotchy face and tinted cheeks worse. You brush your teeth and take a piss, finally settling on the edge of your bed to think. 

Fuck it, you finally decide, bringing up your texts with Y/N once more. 

You

11:47PM: I think I can make that happen…

Surprisingly, she responds within the minute.

Y/N

11:47PM: Hey. Thought you had found someone else to sneak away to the bathroom…

Your nerves flush up all over again. We’re still in the clear.

You

11:48PM: Don’t be crazy fledgling. I’m finding you in 5 minutes. 

HER POV

Five minutes? Five minutes!  You stare at the screen for a few seconds before your brain starts to work again, giving you a mile long to-do list before he knocks on the door. 

“What!? What! What does it say?! Hello! Why do you look panicked!?” Ruth asks from the other end of the phone. 

“Oh my god, he’s coming to my room. Right now, he’s on his way right this second, holy shit I have to– I have to clean up! I need to brush my teeth, brush my hair? Shit, I can’t be wearing this! Oh my god, shit I do not have enough time!” you screech, tearing across the hotel room to clean up the best that you can. 

“Focus on yourself first! He doesn’t care about your messy room! Put on some deodorant for the love of god! Did you shave your legs today?! Wait, did you end up bringing that little black sleep set thing we found?” she asks, trying to help you prioritize. 

“Yes! I’m wearing it stupid! Can you not see me?!” you shout, the clocking continuing to tick by. 

“Fuck off, it’s blurry! Okay just go brush your teeth, brush your hair, deodorant, then let's work on the room. Hurry up!” 

You run into the bathroom, applying deodorant as quickly as possible and checking your legs for stubble. “I shaved this morning, but I think it’s fine.”

“Did you shave…everything?!” she asks, just as panicked as you are. 

“Yeah, thank god!” you answer, wetting your toothbrush. 

“Okay, game plan, keep brushing, just listen. He’s into you, you’re into him. He’s been flirting with you all night. He wants you babe, and if it were me? Well, I’d do it. I know what you’re gonna say, ‘Ruthie, I can’t give it up on the first date’, blah blah blah, I don’t care, fuck the police. He’s hot, you’re hot, you’re in Europe, and if you don’t sex that man tonight, you might not get the chance to again.” she lectures, giving you a stern look.

You spit your toothpaste into the sink, wiping your mouth and grabbing for your hair brush. You run it quickly through your hair as she continues. “God, I have got to know what this man is like in the bedroom. I am so living through you right now. I expect every detail first thing in the morning. Not noon, not three, morning.”

You grab your perfume from the bathroom counter and hold it up to the camera, “Should I, or too much?”

“Yes, you should, obviously! But don’t overdo it!” she yelps back. You spray the perfume onto your wrists, careful not to spray too much. 

“Alright, I feel better, but do you think I should change? Honestly, I feel so…”

“What? Hot, sexy? Drop dead gorgeous? Didn’t have a problem with it when you sent that picture earlier, what's different now?” she asks. 

“Well, nothing I guess, I just… He will see me in person. You can see my nipples!” you admit.

“I think he’s gonna see a lot more than your nipples tonight babe, that’s just the appetizer.” she laughs, crunching the ice from her drink. 

“Oh my god you are so gross, okay, fine. I just need to clean up the room and little and–”

A knock at the door renders you both silent. You mouth the words ‘oh my god’, as she laughs silently. 

“I’ll call you later,” you whisper, quickly ending the call and tossing your phone onto the dresser. You take a deep breath and smooth your hands over the black satin tank top, pushing your boobs up, but letting out a defeated sigh when they drop back into place. She better be right about this. 

You blow out a calming breath as you make your way towards the door, twisting the handle and pulling the door open. Leaning against your door frame you find Jake, cheeks flushed and somehow looking even better than he did this afternoon. He’s in the same clothes, and his hair is windblown, but there is something different about him. You can’t quite put your finger on it, but you file it away for later. 

You purse your lips in a smirk, “You said five minutes.”

He smiles and nods, “I did, but I had to make a pit stop.”

“What for?” you ask, a playful tone to your voice. 

You watch his eyes flick down to take in your appearance, his chest growing as he sucks in a deep breath, “Oh, you know…had to get something,” he pauses, shrugging his shoulders a bit. “Did you make up your mind?”

You bite your lips together as you open the door a little wider, “Mmm, I thought about it…”

He steps forward, his foot on the threshold, “And?”

You instantly reach for his shirt, pulling him into the room and crashing your lips into his. He immediately takes control, leading you backwards and kicking the door shut with his foot. His hands have found your waist, sliding beneath the silky fabric of your top and gripping into your skin. He backs you into a wall, letting his warm lips drag across your jaw as his hands continue to explore the soft skin of your stomach. It’s not long before his lips are back on yours, the taste of alcohol still lingering on his tongue. 

His knee slides between your legs, parting them just enough to be able to press himself closer to you. Your arms lace around his neck, your hands tangling into his soft hair, as his hips press into yours. The sound of your lips on his is wet and desperate, the two of you devouring each other where you stand. His tongue slides into your mouth in search of yours, the two of you quickly picking up where you last left off. 

You can feel his phone vibrating in his pocket as it presses against your leg, an incessant buzz that drags your attention away from his lips. 

“You wanna get that?” you ask, whispering against his lips. 

“No,” he growls, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip. “Probably the groupchat, I’m tired of them interrupting.”

He pulls the two of you from against the wall, walking you backwards towards the bed as his lips pepper kisses up and down your jaw. He tosses you down towards the bed, the fluffy white sheets pooling around your body. His eyes are hazy as he looks down at you, his cheeks still red from what you thought was the cold, but now know is the alcohol flowing through his system. His chest is heaving as he stares down at you, taking in every single inch of your body. You can feel the primal need radiating from him, and you remind yourself to thank Ruth for not letting your change into something else. 

You can hear that his phone is still buzzing, and with a huff of aggravation he pulls it from his pocket and taps on the screen a few times before throwing it onto the nightstand. He drops to his hands, hovering over you as his shirt hangs from his body. You keep your eyes locked on his as you unbutton the buttons, letting your hands run up his stomach and over his chest. 

His lips drop back down to yours, this kiss a little slower and a little more intentional, you can feel that he wants you, and you hope he can tell that you want him just the same. He hums against your lips, the evidence of his need starting to show through in his voice. You let your hands push the fabric of his shirt over his shoulders and he assists by tossing it to the floor. His necklaces hang between the two of you, the pendants cold as they rest against your chest. 

His hand comes up to swipe at the thin strap of your tank top, pulling it delicately over your shoulder while letting his eyes meet yours. You nod your head just enough to give him permission, letting him repeat the action with the other side. 

He brings his palm to rest on the side of your neck, his fingertips brushing lightly against your skin before he drags his palm down your body, pushing the soft black fabric down your chest. 

“This what you wanted?” he hums, dragging his fingertips over your sternum. “When you sent me that little picture? Wanted to get me all worked up thinking about you in this? Thinking about you, out of this?”

Your nipples harden just at the sound of his voice, deep and rich, a gentle slur from the alcohol. He is pure sex as you look up from beneath him.

“Might’ve been…” you answer, biting your bottom lip nervously. 

“Don’t do that,” he says, pulling your lip with his thumb. “Own it. Take what you want.”

A smirk is planted on his lips, his hair hanging around his face as he looks down at you. You decide to do exactly what he says, reaching down to the hem of your top and pulling it up and over your shoulders. His eyes drop down to your chest, now completely exposed to him, the lust almost visible in his dark eyes.

“Shit…” he breathes, his tongue wetting his lips.

He slots his knee between your legs, crawling forward a little bit more and dropping down to his elbows over top of you. His lips connect with your chest, sucking a long wet kiss into the roundness of the skin. You squirm beneath him, the feeling of his lips on your body more than you can handle in the moment. He drags his lips down your body, stopping as he meets the hem of your shorts. 

“Smell so fucking good…You’re so soft, everywhere… Have half a mind to have you like this,” he pants, pressing his lips to your skin again.

“Come back,” you plead, needing to feel his lips on yours.

He moves quickly, grabbing your face with his hand and pressing his lips to yours. You reach between the two of you, your hand unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning the button on his pants. He groans as your hand slips into the waistband of his boxers, gently grazing the stubbly trimmed hair at his base. His eyes flick open to meet yours, almost as if he is surprised you’re doing what he told you to do. You stare at him, waiting for him to tell you to stop, but he doesn’t. You have the answer you need. 

You press further, reaching for him, but surprisingly finding him still mostly soft. His eyes widen a little, and his head drops just a touch. You can tell he knows, and it’s caught him a little off guard. 

You decide to take matters into your own hands, smiling back at him, “Roll over.”

He looks up, a small grin on his lips as he rolls to his back, landing in the empty spot you photographed earlier. You move to place yourself between his legs, reaching for the top of his pants and pulling them and his boxers down over his legs. He kicks them off and you toss them to the floor, taking in the sight of him completely naked in front of you. His chest is heaving as he looks at you, a grin on his shiny pink lips as he watches you slide your hands up his thighs. 

“I know I already told you this, but you’re so fucking pretty I can’t seem to think straight.”

You can feel your cheeks grow hot, the way he’s looking at you and the words falling from his mouth have your heart pumping harder than it has in years. 

“And god when you blush like that, fuck…”

You crawl forward a bit more, positioning yourself over him to straddle his waist. You lower yourself to a sitting position, letting him guide your hips to rest your body weight where he wants it. His hands grip into your hips, sliding under the silky fabric still covering your lower half. His thumbs rub circles into your hip bones, your hips rolling on their own accord against his. A hum leaves his chest as his eyes flutter closed, clearly enjoying his view and the feeling of you beneath his hands. 

You reach for his hand, grabbing his wrist and guiding his palm to rest over your chest, letting his fingers grip into the soft fullness beneath it. He palms at your breast as you continue to rock your hips over his. His mouth opens just a bit as he focuses on you, slowly bringing his other hand to rest over your other breast. His grip is firm and warm, not too rough. A hum of pleasure leaves his lips every few seconds as he drinks in the moment, but still yet he is considerably soft beneath you. 

You lean forward into his hands, letting your lips brush against his neck, your tongue darting out and licking a wet stripe up the column of his neck. His grip tightens and his hips buck upward into yours. You’ve got him where you want him now. 

You pull away from him, moving backwards on the bed until you are hovering right above his dick. Your eyes flick to his, dark and boiling over with want as you lower your face closer to him. You grab him in your hand, feeling that he is still not truly hard enough to do anything with, but you still had a few more ideas yet. 

“Can I?” you breathe, whispering the words against his soft pink tip. You bat your eyes at him, “Please?”

You watch his chest rising and falling quickly, his heart rate sky high as he watches you. “Been dreaming about it.”

You let your tongue glide over his tip, warm against your mouth as your eyes stay locked on his. You wrap your fist around his base and let your mouth sink down over him, running your tongue up the underside of his shaft. You can’t help but wonder why he isn’t rock hard at this point, his body giving you every single cue that he wants you, apart from this one. 

His hand swipes the hair away from your face as you take him, feeling him growing just the slightest bit harder as his tip grazes the back of your mouth. You pull off of him just enough to speak, letting your wet lips brush his tip. “That okay?”

“Yes, fuck yes, I just–”

You grip your hand into his thigh as you shush him, “Shhh, I know, I’m not done.”

You take him down again, bobbing your head back and forth at a steady pace as his breathing starts to pick up. His skin is clammy under your hands and his chest is heaving as he watches you take him as far as you can. 

Your brain starts to wander as you taste him, his natural musky smell translating to the taste of his skin. Maybe he drank too much? Or maybe you’re just bad at this. He should be hard by now. Maybe he doesn’t really want you like you thought. 

A groan leaves his lips and his hips buck up, forcing him further down your throat. “Fuck…”

Okay, that's definitely not it. He has been falling all over you for days, it has to be something else. 

His hand grips into your hair as his hips buck upwards again. “Feel so fuckin’ good baby, shit. Perfect little mouth, knew it would be.” 

You let your eyes flick up to his, staring at him as his tongue rests between his lips. He’s trying, you can tell, but for some reason, it’s just not working. His brow furrows in anger, and you watch as his demeanor shifts, frustration taking him over. 

You pull off him, his dick harder than when you started, but still fairly soft. You don’t know how hard he normally is, but it has to be more than this. Right?

“Jake, we don’t have t–”

He shakes his head, “Mmm, you know what? Come up here beautiful, come lay down for me.”

You do as he says, part of you sad to think that maybe you weren’t doing it for him, but you push the thoughts aside, swapping places with him as he adjusts the pillow beneath your head. He bends to kiss you, pulling away for just a second before pressing his lips to yours again much quicker. 

“So fucking pretty, all of you. But especially that mouth,” he smirks. 

He hooks his fingers into your shorts, pulling them and your panties off in one swift movement. You are bare before him, his eyes widening as he takes you in, finally getting a reaction from his dick. He fists it up and down a few times as he looks at you, “Can I touch you, baby?”

You nod quickly, letting him spread your legs apart with his free hand. A growl leaves his chest as he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, “So gorgeous, shit…”

His thumb swipes up through your wetness, circling your clit a few times causing you to squirm beneath him. 

“Jake…” you gasp. 

His eyes meet yours, “Yeah? You like that? You’re so beyond wet, sweetheart.”

Your hips twist and turn beneath his touch, every angle proving to be more stimulating than the last. You whine, a string of curses and muffled versions of his name falling from your lips. 

“You…” he pauses, taking a deep breath, “Are everything I thought you would be. More, even.”

“Jake, please, I– I need–”

He pulls away from you quickly, his hand still fisting his cock as he reaches for his wallet on the floor. He pulls a condom from the pocket inside, tearing the foil packet open as he kneels back onto the bed. 

“Let me!” you urge, stopping his wrist, “I mean, please, can I do it?”

His eyes flick up to yours in surprise, “Yeah baby, you can do it. You can do whatever you want, swear to god.”

You grab the latex between your fingers, pinching the tip and rolling it over his cock. It's hard enough now that putting the condom on is fairly easy, but you’re positive he was even harder than this in the bathroom last night. You roll it to his base, letting your hand drift back up and over his chest before circling it around his neck. His hands grip your waist as his lips meet yours again, his tongue circling with yours as he moves you back towards the pillows, gently lowering your body to the bed. “Want you so bad, Y/N.”

“So have me,” you breathe, barely letting your lips leave his. 

You welcome him between your legs, feeling his hand reach down to fist his base, gliding himself through your wetness. In only a matter of a minute his dick is softer than it was, and both of you know it, but neither of you are willing to acknowledge it. 

His phone starts to buzz on the nightstand, both of you looking towards it. He doesn’t pay it any mind, letting it buzz on the wooden table until it stops. 

“Look at me, baby, don’t mind that,” he demands. 

You feel him press his tip to your entrance, his eyes fixed on yours. He furrows his brow as he presses his hips forward, but you feel nothing. Your eyes flick down between the two of you, finding that he can’t seem to get hard and stay hard enough to get it in. You feel a pang of hurt run through your chest, almost like rejection, but somehow a little worse. 

“Jake, are you not hard en–”

“Just give me a second, I don’t know what the fuck is going on,” he growls, his attention turning to the still buzzing phone on the nightstand. 

“I mean, I can give you head again if you think–”

“No, Y/N, I just– I just need a second, I’ll be fine,” he says. You can hear the anger in his voice, not at you, but at himself. 

“Is it me?” you ask, running your fingers up his arm that is next to your head. 

“Fuck no. You are everything I want, wet as fuck and gorgeous, no, it’s not you. I want you, I really fucking want you,” he says, stroking himself a few more times. “Alright…”

He repositions himself at your entrance, and this time you can feel him, he’s harder now, enough to slide into you, but still it’s only just enough to slip inside. 

Even half hard he is bigger than the last guy you were with, the stretch as he presses into you making that abundantly clear.

“Oh Jesus Christ, you are so tight,” he pants, his dick hardening a little at the tight fit. 

You slide your hands around his waist, pulling him down a little further as he starts to move his hips, “Oh goddamn…”

His phone buzzes twice on the nightstand as he starts to pump into you at a steady pace, but you ignore it, letting the overwhelming feeling of him moving inside of you take precedence in your brain. 

He groans through closed lips, his brow furrowed in concentration as he slides in and out of you. He rolls his hips as he thrusts into you, a whine leaving your lips as your back arches. 

“Motherfuck, you are–” he stops, regaining his composure, “Tightest fuckin’ pussy.”

Your hands grip into his sides as he picks up speed, his hips slamming into yours as both of you start to lose yourselves in the moment. Finally things felt normal, things felt good, way too good. You wanted this, you needed this, and fuck if he wasn’t checking every box you’d ever had. 

He cups your cheek in his hand, dusting his thumb over your swollen lips just as you part them to suck it in. You watch his eyes roll back in his head as he starts to pant, and you can tell he is dangerously close to his finish. 

You start to speak, ready to change positions but as you open your lips to release his finger, his phone rings, buzzing quickly across the table as the sound plays through the speakers. 

“God fucking damnit!” he growls, “What the fuck!”

“Take it Jake, it’s fine, just– answer and they’ll leave you alone.” you urge, looking to the black phone skittering across the table. 

“No, fuck no.” he snaps, his hips emphasizing his point. “I’m busy,”

The buzzing stops, and he looks back to you, letting his hand drift down to your chest. He rolls your nipple between his fingers, letting his lips meet yours. His kiss is wet, and desperate, his hips starting to falter as they move in messy strokes above you. 

You can tell he needs to cum, his body racing closer and closer with every half hard stroke of his dick. You can also tell he is fighting it, his face is red, and his hairline sweaty. You know it will be seconds, if that, until he is tumbling into his release.

His eyes flick to yours in panic, an almost apologetic look on his face as he breathes, “Baby, I’m, fuck—”

As if right on cue, his phone starts to buzz, the ringtone blaring through the speakers as his hips stutter, slamming into you again as he looks at his phone on the table. His head snaps back to you, sucking in a deep breath of panic as his hips stop, his cock twitching inside you as he fills the condom with a guttural moan. 

The fucked out look that takes over his face is like nothing you’ve ever seen. Reminiscent of a Renaissance painting, the features of his face twist into such a blissful expression that he almost looks like he’s in pain. He’s beautiful, there is absolutely no doubt about that, but it doesn’t change the fact that he just came, way, way too soon. 

You are in shock as you lay beneath his panting body, feeling him grow soft inside you once again. He pushes up to his hands nearly instantly, his face riddled with remorse as he realizes what exactly just happened. “Y/N–”

His phone buzzes again, for what has to be the sixtieth time in the last five minutes, a snap of anger washing through you. “Are you going to fucking get that?”

He mumbles a curse under his breath as he pulls out of you, the condom full as he looks at it in shame. He covers himself with his hand as he snatches the phone off of the nightstand and makes his way to the bathroom. You can feel the embarrassment swirling through the air as you hear the sink in the bathroom turn on. 

You grab the sheet at your feet and pull it up over your naked, unsatisfied body, trying to wrap your head around what exactly just happened. You try to catch your breath, the sound of your breathing filling the room but quickly drowned out by Jake’s phone ringing. This time though, he answers. 

“Hello?!” he shouts, his anger apparent. “Yeah I’ve seen him fucking calling, I have been busy goddamnit!” 

You hear the sink turn off and the toilet flush, followed by the sound of his footsteps walking back into the room. “Yes, I will call him, Jesus Christ, don’t ever blow my shit up like that again,” he snaps, ending the call. He pauses as he walks, a hand towel in his grip as he taps his phone screen.

You hear another call ringing out, but this time he's the one doing the calling. He walks over to you with the phone on speaker phone, a look of sadness on his face as he slowly approaches the edge of the bed. He sits next to you and reaches for your hand just as the person answers. 

“Hey, man, been trying to call you.” the man's voice says, a tone of urgency present.

“Yeah, sorry about that, I was caught up for a second. What’s up, what’s going on?” Jake answers, rubbing his hand along your arm. 

He turns to look at you mouthing ‘guitar tech’ as he hands you the damp towel. You make quick work of it, wiping yourself off but knowing you’ll be taking a shower as soon as possible. You throw it across the room as he snickers, waiting for Johnny to answer.

“Listen man, I’m at the venue, trucks just arrived and we are doing load out. One of the stage left Marshall cabinets split in transit. Wiring harness is fucked. Amp is…the amp is not looking good man.”

You see Jake stiffen, “What?” 

“Huge gash in the backside, must have fallen or something, I tried to fuck with the wiring as best as I could, it’s not getting any signal right now, man.”

“Holy fuck,” he groans, standing quickly from the bed and gripping into his hair. “No signal? Did you try a direct line in?”

You cut your eyes wondering how he managed to sober up so quickly in the last three minutes.

“Yeah, even DI there’s no signal, just static. Powers’ on, but she’s DOA. Gonna have Mark take a look at it too, but I don’t have high hopes,” he continues. 

“Is there anything we can do? How the fuck are we supposed to get a replacement amp and cabinet by tomorrow?” Jake asks, his voice laced with panic. 

“We can make some calls, I know a guy with some leads. What are the chances of you coming down here to take a look at it? Maybe I’m completely missing something, man. Hoping it's a quick fix. Need your signature for the insurance waiver, too.”

“Can it wait until morning?” he asks, a pained look on his face. 

“Probably shouldn’t, especially if we are looking for a replacement locally.”

He turns to look at you, and you can tell he is conflicted. You bite your lips together and nod your head. This is his job after all. 

He runs a hand over his face, letting out a sigh, “Yeah, yeah, I um– I can be there in a bit. I just need to wrap something up here, and I’ll be there. See if you can get in touch with Hamstead, I’m sure they have a loaner we could use for tomorrow at the very least.”

“Will do man, hey sorry about this, I don’t know what happened, maybe it wasn't strapped down or–”

Jake is quick to cut him off, “It’s fine, not your fault. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

“Yep, see you then,” he says, ending the call. 

He tosses his phone on the nightstand before dropping his head into his hands. “This night has been…”

He turns to look at you, letting out a sigh, “I don’t know what the fuck it’s been, fuck, I just…”

You can tell he is flustered, he can hardly form a sentence. “Listen, I get it. It’s fine, just go do what you need to do. It’s okay, really.”

He nods as he stands up from the bed, walking around the front to start grabbing for his clothes. He doesn’t say much as he dresses, and he will hardly look at you. You don’t really know why, but you can imagine he is feeling a little bad about himself and his performance at the moment. You still haven't let yourself process what exactly happened with the two of you just now, but you will, soon. 

He re-buttons his shirt, pulling his hair up into a hair tie as he lets out a sigh, “Look, I’m sorry about this. I really am, this is the absolute very last thing I want to do right now, especially after… that. But I have to, and I don’t want you to think that I want to because–”

“Jake. I get it. Just go, it’s fine,” you say calmly, hoping he will believe you. 

He grabs his phone and his wallet and shoves them into his pants pocket, kneeling on the bed towards you. He leans in to kiss you, but his lips don’t land on yours, instead missing your mouth completely. A new rush of secondhand embarrassment washes through you, and right now you think him leaving is probably the best thing he could do. 

He curses himself as he stands up shaking his head in defeat as he swallows back his embarrassment. He walks towards the door with a hand in his pocket, turning to you just before stepping out,  “I’ll uh…I’ll text you, I guess, I don’t know, fuck. Have a good night, Y/N.”

The door slams behind him and suddenly the room is silent. No heavy breathing, no pitchy moans, and no ringing phones. Just pure silence. 

You stare at the wall for a full five minutes, the muted TV flashing colors against your skin. You can’t conjure a thought. Not a single one. Nothing other than what the fuck was that?

You want to call Ruth. You want to call her and tell her everything, but you also don’t even know what you would say. Something like ‘Hey Ruth, just had the worst two minutes of sex of my life? Oh did I mention he was barely hard? And I couldn’t get him hard? And that his phone rang the entire time? And that he came in two minutes? And I didn’t finish at all? And then he had to leave as soon as he finished? And now I’m sitting alone and naked in my hotel room?’  Yeah, you needed to sit on this one for a minute. Your eyes catch sight of the flower laying on the dresser, now looking a little bit limp and lifeless but still beautiful no less. You feel a pang run through your chest, tearing your eyes away from it so as not to taint that moment earlier with this one. 

You rip the sheets from your body and make your way to the bathroom, turning the shower on as hot as it will go before stepping inside. You let the steaming hot water clear your mind and ease your tense muscles, washing away the scent of his cologne that is lingering on your skin. 

You wrack your brain for answers, though you can hardly come up with anything that makes sense. There’s just no fucking way he is actually terrible in bed. We had so much chemistry, the electricity between us was nearly electrocuting you. He felt so good last night. We were so in sync last night. This had to be a fluke, right? You’ve seen him with his guitar on stage, where was that?!

You lather your skin in your body wash, rinsing away the remaining evidence that this night ever happened. After the best afternoon with him, why was he so off tonight? He barely seemed like himself. Maybe he really did have too much to drink. 

You tried to put yourself in his shoes. If the roles were reversed and it was your phone blowing up like that, you probably would have been a little distant too. But that didn’t explain why he couldn’t stay hard. That was a mystery to you, and you really hoped to god it was the beers and not you. You know he was so much harder last night, you know he was. You felt it. So what happened between last night and tonight? 

Something. You knew that much. 

You turn off the water and wrap yourself in a towel, letting your mind wander with possibilities, trying to convince yourself that what he showed you tonight was not who he really was. You sat back down on the bed you just shared with him, thinking back to that few seconds where things were good. And it was good, it felt good, he felt good. There was no denying those few seconds. But the rest of it, well, that was still up for debate. 

You grab your phone and tap the screen, the display reading 1:02AM. There are no texts from Jake, though you didn’t really know what you expected him to say.

From the little you know about him, when he left here tonight the confidence he naturally exudes was gone, not even in the same building. You knew he would reach out, but only when he was ready and knew what to say. But until then… 

You toss your phone on the bed next to you, quickly changing into a clean pair of pajamas and curling back up into the bed. You lay there staring at the ceiling trying to figure out how you are going to handle things tomorrow. You would be with him the entire day, and you didn’t want to make him feel worse than he likely already did. 

You go back and forth with yourself until you land on something sturdy: You won’t say anything, you won’t do anything. You’ll act completely normal. The same as you have for the last few days. You decide to tear this page from the book and move forward. This never happened. 

Deep down you know there was something holding him back from being fully present with you tonight, but what that is you’ve yet to discover.

—

JAKE POV

The early morning finds you facedown on your bed, still fully clothed, one boot kicked off into the floor, the other still completely on your foot. The sun is far from being up, and you’re thankful that you still have a few hours before its rays beat in through your window. The bustle of the awakening city is loud on the streets below you, and you find yourself wanting nothing more than to stay in this exact position for the rest of the day. For the rest of your life, actually. Maybe, if you bury yourself under these blankets and pillows, everyone will forget about you. Isla will forget about you. Y/N will forget about you, about everything, about last night. It will be like it never even happened. It will be like the most amazing buildup to what could have been a night of pure electricity didn’t take an absolute nose dive into one of the most embarrassing things to have ever happened to you. You’d take tripping on stage a million times over this. Pure. Humiliation.

Yeah, right here, in this bed. Under the pillows. They can’t find you here. 

What the fuck even happened?! Whiskey dick was an understatement. It didn’t even begin to explain what you…experienced. Unable to perform for the most beautiful new thing that has happened to you. Everything was perfect, she was perfect… her confidence was enamoring, her head was off the charts good, and fuck, for the few seconds you had things actually going, it was pure ecstasy. She was soaked for you. Her sounds, her face… fuck. It all came flooding back to your brain, even the way she smelled still stuck in your mind. She wanted you, just as badly as you wanted her. Just the thought of it had you standing at attention all over again, at full force this time, though. And you’d let her down. 

You sit up and roll yourself over. “Where the fuck were you last night, huh? Let me the fuck down!” you audibly yell at what was happening in your still-belted jeans. You force your face back into the comforter, realizing now that a horrific hangover is on the horizon. Your head is busting in two already, not like you already didn’t feel like shit on a boot.

Staying here, under the pillows until sound check. Right here. Not moving. Hiding. 

You know that’s not realistic, though. You contemplate texting her, but what the fuck do you even say? You couldn’t even satisfy her, and ended up satisfying yourself, way too fucking soon. What had you lasted, two minutes? Three max? Like a fucking 16 year old kid. God, what a fucking tool. She probably thinks you’re a horrible lay. You know you’re better than that. 

You groan hard into the sheets below you, feeling the metallic taste of a hangover in your mouth. You need a gallon each of water, orange juice, and black coffee, stat. And probably like, nine pieces of the butteriest toast you can find. And probably a shower, yes, a shower. And a straightjacket, for how absolutely insane you feel. 

Damnit, the amp. Luckily, the rental was in the works of being en route last night, so you feel just a little bit better about that, at least. It won’t be your baby, but it will sound okay. 

You roll and find your almost-dead phone underneath your chest, blinking your eyes as the screen brightens. Nothing. Not even Isla. Good. No one wants you. You can stay here, hidden in your burrow, until you absolutely can’t anymore. 

You’ve gotta say something, anything to her, to start this process that you want to stay millions of miles away from. But the first step to healing is admission, so you go ahead and take it. 

You

5:31AM: I’m sorry. 

You watch as the message is delivered to her, seeing the string of foreplay texts and her photo still sitting in the chat. She’s so gorgeous, how could you have fucked up this badly? Your first chance to show her how you feel and you fumble this hard?

Though there were many factors playing into it, at the very deepest darkest part of your mind, you know why. You know exactly why. Guilt isn’t an emotion you let yourself feel very often, and this morning, you find yourself grasped in the wrath of it. The double-edged sword of your current situation with two separate women is proving to be more intertwined than you’d anticipated, or even foresaw. What you want is clear, though. And you’re determined to get a second chance, no matter how rocky and uncomfortable the road to that chance may be. 

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[wardenparker]

Summer Rose

Professor!Santiago Garcia x female OC Co-written with @julesonrecord

Rating: E for Explicit 18+ Word Count: 6k Warnings: OC is named (Daphne Antonelli) but has minimal physical description. Age gap 10+ years. Both parties are consenting adults. Alcohol consumption, mutual pining, professor/student, oral sex (f and m receiving), 69, sexy mythology references, vaginal sex, protected sex, fingernails/scratching, a bit of biting. Summary: Daphne is having an absolutely terrible day and has missed office hours to turn in her final paper to Professor Garcia. When she turns up on his doorstep to turn in her assignment, the professor she's been crushing on for ages offers her a supportive ear -- and help relaxing. Notes: A little collaboration between myself and my beloved Jules featuring a character we've working on (Daphne) and today's wet daydream of college professor!Santiago. Honestly this is just a bit of porn with the barest thread of a plot, and we're not sorry. Also, just a disclaimer that I have no clue how one finishes a masters degree, but it doesn't matter. We're here for the porn, not the threadbare plot.

Twilight is beautiful on campus. Santiago has always thought so, even before he had the letters after his last name that demarcate him as faculty. He enjoys the blush of the sun fading, the purple of the dusky sky fading to blue-black, indigo, then glitter with starlight.

He likes walking home after class this way; a quiet moment to ease his mind after lectures and before grading. This late in the semester, it will be one of the last walks before the summer term. As he passes through the quiet neighborhood and climbs his front doors, he glances up, spies Orion's Belt in the heavens. He thinks about introducing the story next time he holds his Mythology and Myth-Making class. Did he include it this year? He can't remember. He'd been... distracted.

His phone pings with a text as he sets his messenger bag on the dining room table and undoes his cuff buttons, rolling them up. Too damn hot for this, damn dress code rules... He peers down at the message, and notes it's from an unknown number. His students know to text him if they have an emergency, so he opens it straight away.

Hi, Professor Garcia. I know that it's after office hours, but the fact is...I missed office hours altogether. Would it be an inconvenience to call you and explain? Otherwise I'm not sure how to get my final paper to you. Thanks, Daphne Antonelli (Mythology and Myth-Making)

Santiago lifts an eyebrow. He recognizes the name. Oh yes, he recognizes it. In fact, he's called it to mind more often than is probably appropriate, along with the image of a very beautiful graduate student with a focused stare and drop-dead gorgeous eyes. She was an attentive student, responsive, ready to answer questions but never one to hog the spotlight, making insightful, empathetic, and razor-sharp questions. It was unlike her to miss anything, never mind not visit office hours. They'd spent many such visits over the semester. Short. Professional. Of course.

So why does his heart rate increase, his teeth sink into his bottom lip as he thoughtfully taps the phone screen, spelling out a careful, professional text?

Hi Daphne. As this is your final paper, I would really like to have it ASAP as I am required to submit grades on Monday. Why don't you swing by my home to drop it off?

Feel free to call, he types, then deletes before sending. He wanted to hear her voice. He did need that paper. No reason why he couldn't do both in person. No reason at all.

He had had his graduate students over for a spring dinner after midterms so they know how and where to find him. The bonfire that night had lasted for ages, as tipsy grad students who were feeling feisty with a full meal in their bellies debated the cultural implications of different myth origins and the similarities of some creation myths that they had just been discussing in class. Daphne had been amongst the students that night, animatedly defending her points with unmatched ferocity that was impossible to ignore.

The text that comes through a few moments later takes a while for her to decide on, judging from the continuously undulating bubbles indicating how long she was typing compared to the brevity of the eventual message.

Thank you for understanding. I'll be over shortly so the rest of your night isn't interrupted.

Satisfaction. He tosses the phone down and leans over the table with a slow sigh, taking a look around the room. The same old familiar wall-to-wall bookshelves line the tidy bungalow. The same pendant lamps up, tacky, that he'd meant to change when he bought this place... four years ago. His degrees might be hung in his office upstairs, his clothes are here, he shaves here, but who does he have here, really? Nobody. Warm sheets for a night and then no one. Nothing. There was no reason to bother, really—

And then Daphne. Daphne with her slowly blossoming smile that melted from shy to beaming when he said hello to her on campus. Daphne with her neat notes in the margins, Daphne with the legs that had so often been tucked primly next to his as they leaned over a book or paper together, never touching but so close, close enough so that he could smell her perfume: cinnamon, orchid, incense.

"Fuck," he mutters to the table. There's no way of hiding from himself, not really. He pushes off the wood and stalks to the kitchen for a beer. He cracks it open efficiently and takes a long swallow, Adam's apple bobbing. He wants her. That much is clear. How could he not? She was intelligent, fierce, gorgeous. He could fool himself all he wanted, her coming here was a bad idea. It's been a long semester, keeping her close but not too close.

But, he realizes with a jolt, she's about to graduate. This is her final, his course is over. He is... well, technically by Monday, no longer her professor.

"Fuck," he mutters again, this time to a magnet of a catfish, his only catch from a weekend out fishing with the guys.

It's twenty minutes later precisely when his doorbell rings. There was no sound of a car outside on the street or dramatic slam of a door, but when he opens the door there is a bicycle leaning against his front gate and a frazzled looking student on his front step.

"Hi, Professor." Daphne stands on his step with a mix of anxiety and embarrassment on her face and she digs into her bag right away to pull out a manila folder with his class name and number written on it alongside her name. "I'm so sorry about this. I know it's technically late and that you'll have to dock points for that. It's completely my fault."

"Hey, hey, easy." He lifts a palm and lowers it soothingly, taking the manila folder gently. "There's no need to be sorry, accidents happen." Then, as he knew he would, he asked, "Would you like to come in? It's the end of semester, though. Maybe you have a party you'd rather get to?" He smiles fondly, bumping his shoulder against the doorframe and folding his arms to show off his tanned forearms, shirt sleeves straining slightly.

Yeah, he's still got moves. And he wants to show them off. To Daphne. Who is no longer his student. Who's staring up at him with the anguish slowly sliding from her face. He wants to remove it, stroke her stress away with his thumb, ease it out of her slowly—

Fuck, he's screwed.

"I'm not really – I mean, I haven't –" She doesn't get invited to parties, is what she's trying to say. Not that she doesn't enjoy parties, because she does. She absolutely does. The night they spent here at his house just sitting around the fire talking and sharing a meal was one of her favorite graduate school memories. But she isn't great at socializing with the other students in her program, she's found. There is something a little odd about Daphne, and it has reverberated through her life to keep her just a little on the outside of normal.

Maybe that's why she nods, accepting the invitation with swallowed thanks, and steps inside her professor's house. Her professor who has more than a decade on her in terms of age but has never held his years of experience or knowledge over her head. If they were colleagues, she might have even considered him a friend. As it is, being his student, she's stuck in a sort of limbo with a useless crush and fond memories. "I've had kind of a crazy day," she admits sheepishly. "Even if I had been invited to any of the parties on campus, I don't think I would be going."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that, Daph," he says, with real sympathy. "Is everything all right? I just opened a beer, would you like anything?"

"A pipe burst at my place and my landlord is claiming I'm liable, then my computer crashed in the middle of doing one last edit on your term paper and the tech office gave me grief, it's just...it's been a long day." She barely even nodded in agreement that a drink would be a huge relief, but he is immediately retreating to his refrigerator to grab her a beer. "Oh, and my summer plans fell through today." Her shoulders sag, the stress of the day dragging her down and determined to keep her there. "I'm just lucky I got up to take a shower first thing this morning or else the day would've been even worse."

"Oh, Daph, that's a rotten one," he says, placing the opened beer on the coffee table and settling his hands on her shoulders. "What happened to your summer? Surely you're going off to some incredible internship, you're more than qualified." And she is. He'd have recommended her to any program she wanted, and had, in fact, written her a letter of recommendation earlier in the year. "You know I'm not going to dock points, right?" he asks more quietly. "None of today was your fault, sweetheart."

Sweetheart. That shouldn't burrow into her chest and bloom into warmth like it does, and Daphne's eyes drop to the floor immediately to carefully focus on the toes of her boots instead of looking him in the face. That's your professor. Don't be creepy. "I had that internship lined up in London with the publishing company but they pulled the rug out from under me." She shrugs, feeling more vulnerable in the moment than she wants to admit. "Apparently the CFO's kid decided all of a sudden that he wants to be an author, so they rescinded my offer. He's going to get it instead."

His chest pangs. He hates that there is nothing he can do to fix this for her -- because she's right. That's the cherry on top of an extremely long day, and all he can do then is what feels most natural, which is to lift her chin up with the crook of his finger, his voice soft, gentle. "Hey."

When she meets his gaze, he watches them flicker slightly, scanning his face as he drinks in hers. Her eyes are so pretty. Like fresh honey dripped from a spoon.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he says again, and means it. "You deserve that spot, but you'll find something better, okay? Hey, look at me." She had turned away slightly, embarrassed or perhaps made shy by his praise, but her eyes fix on him again, golden and fringed with thick lashes. "I promise, you will. There's lots of ways into this world, and you're too talented not to break in. Okay? You want to sit down, tell me about it?" His fingers clasp around her delicate elbow, ready to guide her to the couch.

"There's not a lot more to tell, to be honest." Two people with two beers steer almost mechanically toward the couch, and Daphne finds herself being seated on his plush leather sectional just before he sits down beside her. This spring has been chilly and he still has a throw blanket out, which he pulls close to them as if to have it at the ready. "No summer in London means I'm going to have to either go back home and figure out my next step there, or find a new place here and do the same. Because I'm sure as hell not staying in the place I'm in now. As if the landlord weren't bad enough, now the plumbing is going."

"Huh." He trails his arm over the back of the sofa, sipping his beer thoughtfully. "What kinda guy is this-" Asshole, he wants to say, but quells it, "Fellow? Any chance he'll back off? Perhaps once he... calms down, he can be reasoned with." He's approaching the boundary of reason himself. He can see it, taste it, the drip of something sweet down his throat. "Beautiful woman like you? You could convince a man of anything."

The pffft sound that comes out of her mouth goes with a wave of her hand, but she does accept a sip of the beer that he's brought her with a grateful sigh. "The apartment is a piece of shit anyway, if I'm honest. I hate it there. It's just that it's affordable." There's a moment's pause where Daphne's eyes widen in panic and she deflates again with a groan. "I already put in my notice at my job, oh my god."

"Hey, hey, Daphne." He puts his beer down and reaches for her, wrapping one arm around her waist, cupping her flushed cheek with the other hand. "C'mon, it's going to be okay, I promise, but for right now, I need you to relax, okay? Can you do that for me, bebita?" They're so close now, almost nose to nose. He's lost in her eyes again, but he can feel the burning heat of her little cheek in his palm.

She had been so sure she was going to start crying instantly with that realization, but two searing hot hands on her skin steady her. His touch is grounding, pulling her away from the edge of panic and drawing her into his aura so effortlessly that she didn't even realize how close he was until she felt his breath on her skin. "O—okay—" He can't know that the thing keeping her from having a complete panic attack on his couch right now is the fact that all the blood in her body has rushed to her aching clit, but damned if it isn't working. Daphne nods vaguely, trying to keep her head from swimming, but all she feels is his hands on her and the way his coffee brown eyes have turned to oceans in front of her. "Okay," she repeats softly.

"Okay?" Santiago nods, his breath coming a little fast. "I'll help you. I'll help you relax, sweetheart. You tell me to stop any time, okay?" He leans closer so slowly, their breaths mingling. He can almost count her eyelashes. Her nose is sweet and soft as it brushes his, but it's nothing compared to her plush lips. They seal against his and he feels the world fall out from under him. Something deep and ravenous unlocks and spills out all over his inside. He barely chokes down a groan.

There is no doubt that this is the most surreal moment of Daphne's life, and it isn't as though she hasn't been in some weird situations before. It's a miracle that she managed to get her beer bottle onto the nearby coffee table without spilling or knocking anything over, but she needs her hands for this. For a year and a half she's been working on a master's degree and avoiding too much contact with the one professor who makes her mind fog up and her daydreams wander, until finally she had landed in his classroom.

And now on his couch.

Kissing him.

If it were anything besides the most surreal moment of her life, she might have jumped backward or at the very least, pulled away. But Daphne has imagined kissing Santiago Garcia far too many times to do anything but sigh in response and open up for him like a summer rose.

"It's okay," he repeats soothingly between kisses: to himself, to her, to the waiting tension in the room. "I've got you, cariño. I've got you now, there you go, so sweet for me. So pretty. Beautiful, smart girl." He deepens the kiss, tasting her lips slowly, reverently, one hand sliding slowly down her soft sweater to rest on her waist and squeeze gently. He brushes his thumb over the soft material and then flicks it open, wanting closeness, to drag his palm up her thin blouse, wide and slow across her back.

The sound that bubbles out of her is a plaintive moan, unsure but wanting, and one of her hands grasps for steadiness on his arm even as the other instinctively sinks into his curls to keep him close. The battle is want versus wisdom, and it takes longer than she's proud of for Daphne to drag her lips from his and pant for a breath that still has no prayer of clearing her head.

"But." The fog in her mind has settled thick and heavy like the arousal in her core, and even as she's trying to straighten herself out she's still clinging to him with digging fingers and sharp nails. "You'll get fired," she manages to breathe out a few seconds later. Her only real protest being that she doesn't want him to get in trouble over a whim – which is surely all this is to him.

"Baby, no, no," he shakes his head, almost laughing with relief that that is her only concern. "No, you're graduating. I'm not your teacher any more. You handed in your paper. We can finally do what I – what I've been—" Shit. This is going to sound so bad. "What I've been thinking about since I met you," he admits.

Santi leans his forehead against hers, sighing. "I'm sorry. It's so inappropriate, but it's true. I've been waiting so long to kiss you, baby girl. Let me kiss you." He brushes his fingers over her knee, lifting her skirt just a little. "Let me make you feel so good, my little nymph. Do you even know how long you've been haunting me?" His mouth brushes her again, gently, over the corner of her mouth, the edge of her jaw, the flutter of her pulse, which smells delicious, deep and floral, her scent.

His cock aches against his zipper.

"Fuck." This time Daphne groans, sinking further into the couch, and feels herself giggle softly in disbelief more than she's actually aware of making the sound herself. "You've been haunted?" She challenges, eyes burning with courage now that she's heard his confession. Heard him beg. Did he really just beg for her? "Do you know how long I put off taking your class because I didn't know if I could even concentrate around you?"

Using the opportunity of her gently reclining body, Santiago leans in for the catch. "I never could," he murmurs into the hollow of her throat, his hands sweeping her skirt up, revealing her pretty legs, and god her thighs, so plush and luscious in his hands. He takes a moment to stroke there, brush the hem of her panties with his thumbs. "Never. You came in with Eros and made me Apollo." One thumb slips gently under the gusset of her panties. "Are you running, little nymph, hm?"

"Fuck—I—no, I—I don't even think my legs work now," she huffs, all at once tense as a bowstring with desire and measurably more relaxed as the reality of the man she's wanted forever finally touching her exactly where she wants him.

Well, not exactly. But it's not going to take long to get there at the rate they're going.

"What should I..." Daphne's head falls back on the sofa cushion as his thumb strokes her slit and she moans. "Santiago is a lot of syllables to moan."

"Santi. You can call me Santi from now on," he murmurs, removing his thumb from her panties only to twist the thin white cotton things, Jesus, so fucking wet, around his fingers and slide them down, down. He tosses them to the side and shucks off her high heeled boots while he's there, his eyes locked on where she glistens for him, needs him. "But you can call out any god you want to, bonita." He flicks his gaze to hers and smirks. "Show me how much you were paying attention, yeah?"

If she can even remember a single name from his class at this point she'll be shocked, and the cool air of his house on her overheated cunt is enough to have her squirming instinctively underneath him. Her brain has pretty much given up the ghost already, overstimulated in the very best way possible far before the rest of her body feels the same. Although she has a feeling that it will get there. "Santi..." Trying it out, there is a sweetness on her tongue and heaviness in her core that really is just a whine waiting to break free. Daphne's hands have found their way to his shirt front, fumbling to free the buttons even while she's nearly shaking with desire. "If you get to touch me, I want to touch you, too."

His lips find hers again, almost impatient to taste her again. "You can touch me, I want you to," he mutters against her lips, lifting her blouse hem from her skirt as she takes care of his buttons. Santiago doesn't pause, doesn't make it easy for her or for himself, drowning himself in the touch of her, the sweet little noises emanating from her throat, the ones taking a running leap on the way to begging for everything he's ready to give. He lifts her shirt over her head and begins tugging down her skirt an inch at a time, his fingers dragging slowly over her hips, her now bare legs.

Nothing is exactly torn away, not specifically, but the pile of clothing that collects beside his living room sofa accumulates quickly and haphazardly — shirts and sweaters and everything else discarded blindly as they drown in kissing each other and swallowing those moans that make their way to the surface over and over again. With that building freedom Daphne finds a buried courage — not that she is a timid lover by any means, but there is an eagerness below the surface here that she hasn’t felt in so long. When the only thing left between them is the flimsy pair of boxers that do nothing to disguise how achingly hard he is, Daph bites down on his bottom lip to pull a groan out of him and soothes it away by sucking on the same spot as her fingers slip under the waistband of his last remaining piece of clothing.

"Fuck," he hisses, hips jumping forward so that the weeping tip of his cock brushes against her hand and he groans. He sits up straighter, caught in a web, aching to touch her – at least take his boxers off, fuck – but loathe to move away from her curious little hand. He settles for sitting up on his knees, staring at the place she's touching him, watching her explore him as though in a trance.

Taking advantage of the momentary shift, Daphne sits up along with him and nudges Santi backward so that he is on his back now instead of her. His curls are mussed and his eyes are so black with lust that he looks positively debauched before she’s even had a chance to touch him very much. Once he’s on his back, though, Daphne hooks her thumbs in his boxers and peels them away, groaning at the sight of him. Harder than diamonds and leaking precum like an eager teenager, a sly smirk rides across her face knowing she did that to him. “I want to suck your cock,” she admits, gaze flickering between his length and his blackened eyes. “You have no idea how many hours I’ve spent imagining sucking your cock under that desk in your office.”

Santiago closes his eyes a moment. Is he fucking dreaming? Or is his most fucked fantasy coming true before his eyes?

"Probably almost as many as what I've spent imagining what that wet little pussy tastes like." His voice is a low rasp, but he pulls himself together enough to halt her hand on his throbbing dick. His fingers squeeze around hers, gliding over the rigid shaft slowly, with control. His breath fans over her forehead. "You want this, baby? Hm? Gonna have to give me something in return. Come here," he urges, a low purr, her very own siren. "Come here and give me a little taste, cariño."

“Even Kama had to worship a lover in order to find his release,” Daph breathes, having spent an entire semester doodling images of the Hindu love god’s sugarcane bow and bird companions in her notes while thinking of all the various ways her professor could be worshipped.

"Kama was burnt alive by Shiva, sweetheart, and I don't plan on doing any different to you. Come here, that's it." Santi helps Daphne turn in his lap, both of them facing the wall. He guides her hips over his face as he lies back on the couch. Thank fuck it was big enough, for this and more, and then her perfect pussy is hovering over his face, tantalizing him. At heart? Santiago likes torturing himself, loves the thrill of giving into pleasure. Perhaps that too, is why he waited so long to take this girl into his bed. Perhaps that's why he's slow and sure as he spreads her lips, flattens his tongue, and tastes her indulgently, from clit to hole.

Daphne's momentary flash of composure is gone again as soon as he tastes her. Her legs shake on either side of his head, thighs pressed to his ears so her moans are muffled but it isn't on purpose. It's just been so long since she had a man between her legs who knew what the fuck he was doing that just having her clit noticed is a vast improvement. Daphne's body sags momentarily before she is shifting all her weight to one hand and wrapping the other around the base of his cock to stroke his base with the pressure that he showed her – the pressure he likes – while she takes as much of him as she can into her mouth.

When he moans it's with a growl into her pussy she can feel vibrate all the way up through her lungs.

She's not fucking sitting, and he knows it's because she's still, however minutely now that her moans are ringing sweet and clear across his living room, in her head instead of fully in her perfect body the way he wants. Licking up her slick almost lazily, he drags his nails lightly up the outsides of her thighs before firmly catching her hips in hand and pressing her into his waiting mouth, his evening stubble scraping across her folds. Only then does he give her a real reason to moan, encouraging her to grind while his laps at her clit with his tongue, filling his hands with all the gorgeous skin he can reach.

"Sit," he grunts, "Fuck, baby, I wanna to go to the field of fucking reeds with this pussy on my face, come on, you can do it, give it to me."

Come on, carińo, I know you can come for me, such a good fucking girl, he thinks, his brain a hazy lightning storm at the sensation of her hot throat squeezing around him as she swallows. Fuck, he could let her do this all night, but he's hungry for her pleasure and he's so close, he can taste it. Santiago lifts her hips with a final loud suck and trails a finger around her slit, teasing, almost pressing, but only just, his thumb running circles around her clit. With a deep breath he lifts his mouth, slips his tongue and a single finger inside, fucking into her with slow, measured movements.

The overwhelming pleasure of having more than just the tip of his tongue inside her pussy has Daphne moaning so earnestly that she pulls off of him cock with a lurid pop. "Dammit—I—fuck, I'm going to cum—Santi, baby, oh my f—" The shaking of her legs and the coil in her core twist down on each other so her thighs tighten and he breathes into her like he's going to devour her whole as she falls apart at the seams.

Oh yes. He really likes hearing her moaning that, but not more than the way she gives in as her orgasm rocks through her, grinding her hips down, into his waiting, eager mouth, helping her ride him through it until the aftershocks ease. His voice is barely a scrape when he lifts her up, his aching cock swinging between his legs as he presses forward, eager for her mouth. "Did so good, baby, such a good girl for me. I need to fuck you. Need to fuck you, baby. How do you want it?"

"Any way." Daphne gasps, trying to wrap her head around any kind of how that's more artful than just sinking down on him right here and now. When she does wrap her head around it, though, she groans in a less ethereal tone. "Let me grab a condom." Like any sensible, sexually active college girl, she carries one in her regular purse. Emergency cock wrap, if you will. She just never thought she'd actually need it.

"Wait, I got it." He scoots up a moment, digging into the small table beside the couch. From the drawer Santi draws out the foil pouch and rips it open, quickly rolling it on before turning his attention back on Daphne, who's watching him with drowned eyes, eyes deep and longing and still so lovely.

"Lie back, sweetheart. You ready for me?" He slowly glides the head over her silky wet folds, smearing her slick across his tip.

Deciding she absolutely does not need to know how many other girls have been fucked on this couch -- possibly at the end of their own courses -- Daph pushed herself up on her elbows to kiss him fiercely. Tonight is not to be wasted. Tonight is to be a fantastic memory. "I'm ready." Her nails drag down the base of his scalp, having caught a near purr from him earlier when she did the same. "I want you to fuck me, Santi."

Almost before his name is out of her mouth, he's pushing inside her with a low rumble, his head falling back slightly into her hands. Her nails scrape sensation over his scalp and down his spine, and her cunt is licking flames over him, so warm and perfect he almost comes right fucking there, but halts, breathing damp against her lips, his teeth nipping her lip possessively.

They hold like that, frozen together in the heat of the moment as he regains his composure and she adjusts to the stretch and fill and thickness of his cock inside her. The only movement, in this long moment of coming together, is the languid slide and tangle of their tongues together as they drown in the intimacy of feverish kisses.

Gradually, Santi comes down enough to get restless, eager again. He nips and bites down over her jaw and descends on her throat, sucking a mark low on her collarbone as his hands pay some long overdue attention to her pretty, heaving tits. Mine.

When the mark on her neck is soothed with his tongue, he sits up slowly, his eyes a glittering black, his lips parted. He looks like he's about to devour her. He takes one of her calves in his hand, eyes never leaving hers, tipping her knee up towards her head and then out, spread wide for him. He grips her ankle in a warm hand. Then, with a grunt, he's pulling back and pitching forward hard enough for their skin to clap obscenely, fast enough to make them both soon begin to tremble.

The position that he's in has him almost entirely out of her reach, just close even to graze her nails over his chest as he thrusts into her at a pace frantic enough to make them both pant and heave. Her back arches off the couch with a keen and her hands grapple with the couch cushions for purchase to hold on tight as Santi fucks her so deeply and insistently that she can practically feel him all the way up in her throat.

"Gripping me so fuckin' tight, baby, Jesus," he says through his teeth, his jaw tight, streaks of pleasure raking down his chest with her sharp, clinging nails. Keeping his relentless pace, he bends forward, pushing her thigh up, testing her limit. When he's low enough he seizes her mouth with his, grinding deep.

"One more for me, pretty girl, one more," he whispers huskily, his other hand skimming down her body to rub at her clit.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, so good baby, oh my fucking god—" Something in Daphne's mind short circuits, and the rambling begins in earnest the higher and higher she climbs toward a second orgasm. Tripping over her own tongue and throwing her hands up over her head as he slams into her so hard that either they are moving up the length of the sofa or the entire sofa is moving, Daph is completely lost in her pleasure. That volcano of pleasure building in her core is damn near ready to explode and the only thing she wants more than to erupt is to take him with her.

The second her expression breaks and she cries out for him, he's gone. He thinks he's done even before she clamps down on his cock like a goddamned vice, ripping his orgasm from him in a half dozen hard but increasingly languid strokes.

His upper body grows heavy, and with a groan he grinds in deeply just once more – never mind why – and leans his forehead on her soft breast, pulling out of her with a sigh. His entire body is basking, floating. If she puts her hands in his hair again he might even fall asleep.

There's a moment of quiet as he ties off and disposes of the condom, and for a split-second Santi disappears around a corner but he comes back with a warm, damp kitchen cloth to clean them both up with before curling back around her on the couch. "Goddamn," she huffs, giggling softly to herself as his arms come around her.

"Tell me about it," he says sleepily, flipping the throw blanket over the two of them as they settle, kiss, explore lazily what before had been greedily consumed. "Still not sure I'm not dreaming," he says, only half-joking, tracing her lips with a smile. "Did I really get so lucky?"

"I'm not sure how you're the starstruck one out of the two of us," Daphne teases, even though it's through a thin veil of honesty.

"Bonita, I've been increasingly starstruck all semester," he chuckles. "You have so much to look forward to. Shit, you're definitely going farther places than I am. I'm just happy to be here," he presses a kiss to her left tit, "To enjoy-" to her right nipple- "The satisfaction of being right." He kisses her forehead and studies her, his lids heavy. "Do you need anything before you fall asleep, baby girl? You wanna sleep here or in bed? I can't let you bike home this late, querida, so don't even try. Besides, you can shower here, my plumbing is fine." He smirks here, as if anticipating the swat he's earned himself.

"It's not that late." Daphne wrinkles her nose at herself. The protest was just good manners. She doesn't actually want to leave. She wants to wrap up in him and breathe in this comfort for as long as humanly possible. When he levels her with a disapproving look, Daph just ends up grinning. "Let's go to bed," she suggests, catching his lips as he drags them along her jaw. "And when I wake you up in the morning with my lips wrapped around your cock again, you'll be glad your back isn't sore."

The laugh bursts out of his chest with delight, easy and real. "All right, baby, all right, and what makes you think I won't beat you to it?" Santi pulls her to her feet, wrapping the soft blanket securely around her shoulders before guiding her upstairs with a hand at the small of her back.

No matter which one of them beats the other two it, they both know they aren't done. Whether it's a weekend, a week, a month, or even more. This night is just the beginning.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

My Masterlist!

#Oscar Isaac #Oscar Isaac character fanfiction #Oscar Isaac fanfic #Santiago Garcia #Santiago 'Pope' Garcia #Santiago Garcia x OC #Santiago Garcia x female!OC #Triple Frontier #college professor au #professor!Santiago Garcia #pwp #really there is barely any plot here #and we're not sorry

[insomniakisses]

Sometimes you have to learn to share

Requested? no

Warnings/Notes: jealousy, drama in friendships, jennie being a smol sassy bean, Sua lowkey jennie bashes, kind of ooc but i feel like pissed of and jealous Sua is lowkey a bitch.

Note 2: i spent days on this bc i have minimal time to dedicate a day to wrote so i thing it may flick between tenses.

Fic type: fluff, slightly angst

Reader: fem reader

You’d been Boras best friend for what felt like a lifetime. The two of you having met when you were trainees eventually debuting in different companies. Her in Happy face, later DCC and you in YG entertainment. Which was were you had originally met Jennie, finding her having some extra practice in on of the practice rooms.

You fondly remember how she had been so on guard about you interrupting her, assuming you were some crazy fan that had walked in rather than what you were; a trainee who had booked the practice room for extra practice the before before your debut.

That night the two of you had decided to share the room, intending to practice together as one was preparing for debut and the other a solo comeback. However the night took a turn when you fell trying to do a flip and Jennie managed to keep you from falling flat on your face. After that the two of you spent the night talking and getting to know each other, only realising how much of a fuck up that was when the morning staff entered the room and you were both very late for your schedules.

It was 2 months after that day that you two saw each other again, your schedules aligning and you running into each other in the YG canteen. Well she was running you were daydreaming. Regardless, it ended in her ice coffee all over your white shirt and her “helping” by rubbing it in even more. You proposed changing while she went to the studio since she seemed so desperate to get there fast but you never would of guessed leaving with her number.

She laughed at your shocked face when she had asked if she could give you her number, giving the excuse of replacing your shirt. Taking the opportunity to grab your wrist and pull out a marker, scribbling something down before skipping away.

“X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X, Jennie x”

It was the weekend when you finally text her, filled with nerves and slight embarrassment at your awkwardness. Fearing she might not remember you at all.

Unknown 10:23 am: Hey! Its y/n

Unknown 10:26 am: realised you probably don’t know my name, we met in the practice room.. then you spilt your coffee on me

Jennie 🫢 12:34 pm: Oh hey sorry, i was recording!! I’m free in an hour if you want to go shopping and replace that hideous shirt

Clumsy Girl 12:34 pm: So my shirts hideous now 🤨 I’m not good enough for the likes of miss Jennie Kim of BLACKPINK? I see i see 😂

Jennie 🫢 12:35 pm: Well… it was a nice colour?? 😂 AND i didn’t even mention your shoes 😉

Clumsy Girl☺️ 12:35 pm: So i guess ill meet you outside the building in 10, should i dress up for u little miss Chanel?

Chanel Princess 👑 12:36 pm: Like you could 😂😉

Chanel Princess 👑 12:36 pm: See you in 5! ☺️ I wait for no one 😌

You remember having to sprint half way there just to be on time, only for her to record your out of breath half walk half jog when you arrived. Claiming it was the best thing she had scene all day. And although you had planned on going on a shopping spree you had seen an arcade and practically dragged the girl in claiming she had to play at least one game.

Having spent the day playing game after game, you ended the night with a go on the claw machines winning her a dumpling plush and claiming it looked just like her. You could see the red taint her cheeks and how her gummy smile practically lit up the whole street and in that moment you couldn’t understand why anyone could possibly hate her.

Though the sky was dark and the air has began to get chilly, you decided to walk her home talking about anything and everything until you saw her starting to get a bit cold. Stopping you had attempted to take off your jacket only for her to raise a brow at you,

“If you think your going to go all knight in shining armour on me and give me that flimsy hoodie to ‘keep me warm’ then your dead wrong” she huffed pulling out a designer jacked from her bag and slipping it on.

“I am prepared and stylish!” She flicks her hair dramatically with a wink, “besides, it takes more than a half ripped hoodie that smells of arcade and practice room to woo me miss lover girl” she gives you a light shove.

Raising your hands in defence you nod approvingly “noted.” Smiling softly you pick up your conversation once more, unaware to the buzzing of your phone in your pocket.

Walking her up the drive to her house you could help but smile when she stopped at the door to give you a shy wave, holding back her grin before she all but skipped inside leaving you a giddy mess as you made your way back to your own house, finally fishing your phone out of your hoodie.

27 miss calls from Dancing Queen 💃🏻

23 messages from Drancing Queen 💃🏻

112 messages from Dreamcatcher and Y/N 💖

Gasping you quickly dialled Boras number going straight to answer machine, which was expected given it seemed like you had been ignoring her. Trying her phone again, this time it picked up,

~on the phone~

You: Bora Hey! I’m so sorry i was out and-

Siyeon: She doesn’t want to talk to you.

You: W-What? But she called me? Many times i might add

Siyeon: Maybe because you missed out weekly film night and didn’t even give us a reason why… we were all worried you know.

You: I’m so sorry! I can come round now? With ice cream and more stuff and-

Beeeeeeep

Sighing you decided to just go home figuring your friends would talk when they felt less hurt. Walking inside your bedroom you went straight to bed feeling incredibly guilty.

For the next few weeks you got radio silence from dreamcatcher, bar Jiu who had called a few times to check you were okay. Feeling alone you leaned on your members a lot more and made many new friends in the company. Eventually regularly having lunch with ur band mates, Blackpink and even some of the soloists and BTS members.

With all the radio silence on dreamcatchers end you felt your friendship with them drifting away to the point you figured they didn’t want to be around you any more. It hurt more that bora, a long time friend you saw as an older sister was leaving you out also.

But with all the lunch time hangouts around friends you and Jennie were only growing closer and closer and maybe you were so focused on your new routine and daily life you forgot to check in with dreamcatcher as much, missed some of there calls and even declined a few while hanging out with them.

It had been 4 months since your first date with Jennie and you could honestly say you were head over heals in love with her. She was the cutest person you’d ever met with twice as much sass. But despite her walls to protect her self deep inside was a shy and caring person who wouldn’t harm a fly, unless your names Lisa and you wear her clothes.

So caught up in your conversation with Jennie you failed to notice Bora, Gahyeon and Yoohyeon coming into the canteen planning to have lunch with you since they figured you still ate alone being to shy to talk to anyone. But there you were on a massive table of boisterous idols laughing and joking with your eyes locked on Jennie’s both of you smiling so wide as you conversed. Giggling and laughing about something nothing but love in your eyes. The boiling point being when she leaned in to peck your lips before winking and scurrying off with the rest of her group leaving you a bright red mess. The boys all cheering and making kissing noises at you while you sat still in shock.

Huffing she stormed off throwing the lunch she had made for you in the trash and angrily texting you to meet her at your dorm later, claiming you had to talk. Which leads you to now. Standing in your groups kitchen awkwardly as the older girl prepares food for you girls, the girls in questing hiding in there rooms from fear of Boras rage never having seen her so pissed.

“So,” she starts cutting the pepper way more harshly than needed causing you to wince “I hear you and Blackpink’s Jennie Kim are very… close”

Laughing awkwardly you hum, “w-well we are kind of close I guess..” you back away slightly as her chopping speeds up sparing a glance to the girls who were peering out their doors, silently asking for help but receiving doors shutting as an answer..

“Look Bora, Jen just-“ the chopping stops but she doesn’t turn to face you, but you can feel the way her face screws up and eyes harden. The air turning cold and tense around you.

“I mean, Jennie, she’s just so nice and sweet. Jennie is a caring person and we got close while around the company, Jennie even likes the show i wanted you to watch and-“

“Jennie this! Jennie that! WHO CARES ABOUT JENNIE!?” She turns around knife pointing at you.

“Bora.. i.. do..?” You chuckle awkwardly eyes flicking between her and the knife until she slams it down. “I like her a lot actually!”

“But does that dumb bitch spare a thought for you! Or is it all money and sex for her, wouldn’t put it past her“ she laughs “probably just using you because she’s bored and your such an easy target for a slut like he-“

“Don’t even finish that sentence!” You growl turning around to get the door intending to tell her to leave but freezing when u see Jennie standing there, silent tears rolling down her face as she begins to back up.

“Jennie! No don’t leave please!” You pull her into your arms as she cries, feeling Bora glare daggers at you from the kitchen.

“Well she should, There isn’t any room for her or food” she huffs with a laugh “Go on little miss big shot idol, leave!”

“No.” Tightening your arms around a shaking Jennie you glare at your old friend. “She stays. You go! You can come back when you learn some fucking manners”

She storms out telling you how Jennie will be bored of you in a week and not to come crawling back to her when that happens. But you couldn’t give a shit about that right now. Kissing jennies head you pull her to the couch and wipe her tears as she sniffles. “Y-you know none of thats true right, i would never-“

“I know” you smile, rubbing her back as she leans into you. “Why would you do that for me, loose a friend I mean?” You look at her like she had grown another head, “because bora was out of line and i care about you… i care about you a lot”

You feel her smile into your chest. “Does that mean were dating?” You let out a shocked laugh before exclaiming “was that not clear the last 3 times we made out!”

“Oh shush” she huffs curling into you as she turns on a movie to watch, rearranging herself till she was basically tucked into you like a baby kitten. Your baby kitten.

A/n: i accept no dreamcatcher or blackpink bashing tho!

Anyway! I hope you like it ;)

ps. originally was a male reader but i changed it sooo

#dreamcatcher #blackpink #blackpink x reader #dreamcatcher x reader #kim sua #sua #sua x reader #sua imagines #kim bora #bora x reader #bora imagines #kim jennie #jennie x reader #jennie imagines

[melonthesprigatito]

Before Legends Arceus came out (so, two years ago whoops) I started coming up with my own Hisuian Ancestor and I spent a lot of time brainstorming (cough, cough daydreaming) about a hypothetical scenario of what their encounter would be like in the actual game. I tried to make it realistic as possible by making it seem like an actual event that could happen in the game, and the one thing I have to say is that it serves as the obligatory "Spooky Encounter" that's been in pretty much every Pokémon game since the Old Chateau.

I'm not going to tell you which character is the descendant of this ancestor just yet, because the story is better if you don't immediately know what's going on. All I can say is that this ancestor is the ancestor of a Gen 7 character.

The quest is intended to be more of a post game thing because it eventually leads into an Ultra Beast catching quest involving the space time distortions (which isn't the main focus, more of a bonus quest really). Think of it as a second update story quest like the Daybreak Update. I'm just going to call this entire thing the Nightfall Update I guess.

To start the story quest you have to buy a special charm called the Otherworldly Charm from Lucille in Jubilife Village. Item description: ("A Mysterious charm made of an unknown material, discovered in Obsidian Fieldlands. It bears an inscription of a six pointed star.  Perhaps something will happen if you keep it around.") Why does she have this? Oh, she just found it lying out there in the field and thought it looked neat. Someone must have dropped it.

After you complete your expedition for the day, a short cutscene will occur. A random merchant from the Ginkgo Guild is making his way though the forest when he suddenly hears a noise behind him. He looks around, but it's completely silent. 

All of a sudden the merchant gets ambushed by the Miss Fortune Sisters. Unable to defend himself, he has no choice but to drop his goods and run. The bandits laugh among themselves at the successful robbery. They're still pissed that their scheme to steal the Origin Ore went up in smoke and they're just SOOO frustrated that the Player (in my case Akari) keeps absolutely destroying them in battle so this ambush was a morale boost for them.

Suddenly they hear a noise. Clover suspects it's another poor defenceless merchant unfortunate enough to cross paths with them, about to be robbed blind. A mysterious hooded, deathly pale figure with glowing eyes watches them from the treeline. The bandits are unnerved but launch into their motto anyway, because they're idiots, but become highly offended when the figure doesn't respond or show any sign of emotion at all. How dare they not acknowledge their perfectly rehearsed intro that strikes fear into people's hearts?! Coin says "Forget this, let's just rob them!" and lunges at the ghostly figure and she instantly gets hit with a blast of lightning coming from the figure's hand. 

The screen goes black and it cuts to the beginning of the quest.

Quest [Insert Number Here Because I Forgot How Many Quests Are In This Game]: The Witch of the Woods 

The sidequest continues when you talk to Ginter from the Ginkgo Guild. He is upset because some of the guild's merchants have been suffering from an increased number of attacks from bandits and supplies in the village have started mysteriously vanishing. At the same time, people have spotted a mysterious pale figure sneaking about Jubilife Village in the dead of night, stealing items such as food and clothing and rumours have started to spread around that it might be the evil witch that supposedly lives in a dark cave, deep in the woods at the edge of the Obsidian Fields which has gotten everyone in a panic because they're afraid that the witch might go after their children next.

Ginter doesn't believe in witches so he suspects that this supposed witch might be behind the thefts of the Ginkgo Guild stock, so he wants the player to look into the rumours and put a stop to them. At this point Zisu approaches them because she's heard ALL about this wicked witch and is really eager to join the investigation. As the Captain of the Security Corps, she feels that it's her duty to defend Jubilife Village from any threat so she wants to look into the rumours about this supposed witch so she can come up with a plan to defend the village from them if she needs to.

Current objective: Investigate the rumours in Jubilife Village (I'm using these quest objectives as a way to break up the giant wall of text. I can't remeember if the quest objective does update as you progress because I haven't played in months but whatever)

So Zisu tags along with the player and they start asking around Jubilife Village about the witch to gain more insight into the rumours. Several people recount different bits of information, but the most damning evidence is a tale from one farmer in particular who tells them a story about how one night when he was working in the fields, a big hole opened up in the sky, and what came out of it was this inhumanly pale woman with glowing eyes that spoke in a language he didn't understand. The farmer had the everloving crap scared out of him because he was convinced that this woman was an evil being that emerged from the underworld (a kid friendly way of saying that he thought it was a demon from hell) so he gathered some of the other villagers and they chased the witch off into Necro Forest.

Zisu is excited because "Sweet! Now we have enough evidence! Let's go investigate that forest then!"

Current objective: Head to the Necro Forest, north of the Obsidian Fieldands

What happens next is an escort mission where the player has to take Zisu across the Obsidian Fieldlands by fending off any wild Pokémon to a new area unlocked exclusively by this quest called the Necro Forest (Eterna Forest in the modern day) which is filled with Ghost Types. The background music is the Night Time Field theme no matter what time of day it is, or maybe a remix of the Old Chateau theme.

Later the Miss Fortune Bandits are encountered in the Necro Forest and they're running for their lives as they crash into Akari Barry Style (Charm dragging a paralysed Coin behind her). Charm is immediately aggressive but resists the temptation to battle Akari, especially because she's accompanied by the head of the Security Corps. Zisu asks what happened to Coin, and Clover freaks out about a witch in the woods that casted a lightning spell on Coin.

Akari wants to help Coin but the other two bandits are vehemently opposed to accepting help from some "Galaxy grunts." So Zisu purposefully drops a Cheri Berry on the ground and is like "Oh noooo, I dropped my berry! It would be a shame if it got stolen by bandits!" and Clover begrudgingly "steals" it, and the flee the scene, saying that you'd have to be stupid to go after the witch.

Eventually the Player and Zisu reach the cave which is supposedly the witch's home and at first Zisu doesn't want to go in because she's been pretty spooked the whole time in the forest, then she tries to play it off like she's not scared at all "What? I'm not f-f-frightened or anything! Let's just go!" then she dashes into the cave.

Current objective: Explore the Necro Cavern!

There is no cave in modern day Eterna Forest. The idea is that the land was dug into and smoothed out in order to build the Old Chateau on top of it. Its a small cave with a suspicious lack of Pokémon inside. The music is the cave theme that only appeared in the cave with the torches that you pass though with Ingo. I dunno, I just think that theme should have played in more than one location.

At the end of the cave, they discover an open chamber filled with signs that it's been lived in, such as scraps of food and clothing lying everywhere as well as a makeshift bed on the floor. Zisu finds the stolen merchandise in the far end of the chamber and runs towards it, while the player notices some weird looking metal things lying in the corner. Zisu comes screaming in the opposite direction "IT'S HER! IT'S THE WITCH!" and immediately uses the player as a human shield. The player turns to see a pair of glowing eyes in the darkness, orange pupils with silvery blue irises. As well as the eyes, she has weirdly pale blue skin and she's wearing a stolen dark green torn cloak over some sort of dirty grey and blue futuristic clothing. Her hair is an absolute mess, riddled with sticks and leaves and she has sun burns all over her face.

All in all, she does look like some sort of evil forest witch, and she's started to freak out about the intruders, showing a particularly negative reaction to Zisu in particular and Akari gets dragged into a Pokémon battle. The witch sends out a Poipole aka a Pokémon that no-one in Hisui has ever seen before, and honestly if the player has any Psychic or Ground Types it gets defeated very easily.

After the battle, the witch is still freaking out, but now she just seems more terrified and upset. She quickly grabs a stick and starts brandishing it at Zisu, trying to scare her off. Zisu squeals like a little girl because she thinks the witch is waving some sort of magic wand at them but Akari puts herself between her and the witch and tries to diffuse the situation.

Nothing seems to be working until Akari has the idea to show her the Otherworldly Charm in case it belongs to her because the charm resembles the other strange metallic objects in the cave.

Akari holds the charm out as a peace offering and the woman recognising the charm, hurriedly snatches it out of the Akari's hands and backs away again. It finally hits Zisu that she's not a witch at all, just a really strange looking desperate woman.

The witch calms down a little because now she knows they're not a threat since they're not attacking her and the Player was kind enough to give her the charm back, but she's still really uneasy.

Zisu tries to ask her who she is and what she's doing here, but she doesn't understand a single thing she's saying. The woman shakes her head and tries to respond and it becomes very clear that the woman doesn't speak the Hisuian language at all and Zisu doesn't recognize the language she speaks either.

Zisu is perplexed at how they're supposed to help her when there's a language barrier, but she decides that at least they should tell her their names and try to get across that they want to help her in some way.

Zisu points at herself and says "Zisu", then she points at the player and says "Akari" (or whatever name you picked for your player) and the woman is confused at first, but then she catches on to what she's trying to say, so she points at herself and says "Hijiki."

Hijiki frowns for a moment until she suddenly decides to do charades to try to communicate with them. She mimes writing in a notepad and Zisu grabs a pen and a notepad from her bag and hands it to her.

Hijiki finds it way easier to communicate with drawings so after a while she flips the notepad over again to show them.

The first drawing is an image of a sad face and some strange device that has smoke coming out of it. Zisu is confused and Hijiki gets frustrated and points at the pile of metal objects. She walks over and grabs a small device from the pile and Zisu acknowledges that it even though she has no idea what it is, it looks very broken.

The second image is a crude drawing of several Pokémon: Luxray, Raichu, Electabuzz and Jolteon, surrounded by lightning bolts.

The third image is of lightning striking the device, making it look shiny and new, with a picture of a smiley face beside it.

Zisu is still confused but she deduces that Hijiki needs the Pokémon in the image to fix whatever her strange device is. The idea is that she needs electricity to charge her device again and it's up to the player to go out and catch these Pokémon and bring them back to her. Zisu decides to stay with Hijiki DEFINITELY not because she doesn't want to go back into the forest again, no sirree, she has to protect Hijiki and although Hijiki doesn't want her to stay with her, it's not like she can speak up and object so she just stays silent and anxious.

Current Objective: Catch the Pokémon from Hijiki's drawings and bring them back to her.

One catching quest later, the Player gives Hijiki the Pokémon and she starts tinkering on her device with whatever tools she has on her. The Pokémon strike her device with lightning and when she's finished, she attaches the device to her belt and has a distinctly relieved look on her face.

The device gets switched on and immediately Hijiki starts to speak English (well, the text is English, but in universe she's speaking whatever language the Hisuians speak), much to Zisu's shock. The device she fixed was a universal translator and she's so glad that she can finally explain herself she doesn't have to keep producing those terrible drawings with her embarrassing lack of art skills.

And with that, the truth finally comes out and the mystery is solved. Hijiki explains that she's from another dimension called Ultra Megalopolis and she and her Poipole fell into this dimension through an Ultra Wormhole. She lost most of her memories and woke up scared and alone in the Obsidian Fields, having no idea where she was. When she spotted civilisation, she tried to get help but because of her appearance and the language barrier, she got chased off and fled for her life into the Necro Forest. Because of how badly the first contact went, she assumed that the inhabitants of this world were extremely hostile, (hence why she attacked them on site) so she created a shelter for herself inside a cave to hide from them.

She then explains that there is no natural light in her world, so it was impossible for her to travel outside of the cave during the day because she got blinded and burned by the harsh sunlight. All she has is the clothes on her back and a few gadgets and tools that were in her backpack, so in order to survive she had no choice but to ambush passing merchants venture into Jubilife Village at night when it was dark and where no one could see her so she could steal supplies for herself.

She's very sorry that she had to steal from the Ginkgo Guild because stealing is a crime in her world as well. She didn't mean to scare anyone and she really wishes she didn't have to live in the wild anymore but she's too afraid of being attacked by the villagers again to try to ask for help.

Zisu is very shocked and saddened by Hijiki's story, and after a few moments be asks her if she wants her to escort her back to Jubilife Village. Hijiki doesn't want to because she'll get attacked, but then Zisu says "No you won't! I'm the Captain of the Security Corps. Everyone trusts me to keep the village safe, so if I say that something is not a threat, they'll listen to what o have to say, so I'll clear up the misunderstanding for you!"

Hijiki is still sceptical. She finds it hard to believe that the villagers will accept her just like that, so Zisu sighs and says "Maybe we should report to Commander Kamado about the situation, and give the village a heads up first?" 

Hijiki thinks that's fair enough. She's willing to wait in her cave for the Akari and Zisu to come back for her.

Current objective: Report back to Captain Kamado!

Zisu and Akari have a meeting with Ginter, and Commander Kamado to discuss their findings. Firstly Zisu reassures Kamado that there's no threat to the village. The witch of the woods was really a faller from another world like Akari and Warden Ingo and one of the Pearl Clan's Wardens. She was driven to stealing for survival after the villagers attacked her and drove her away even though she was lost and confused, and most likely in pain from the suburns.

Kamado is incredulous when Zisu tries to argue that they should take her in. Kamado is against inviting Hijiki to stay in the village. Akari is already on thin ice about being allowed to stay and the villagers only tolerate her because she's been busy quelling the frenzied nobles and slowly earning their trust. To invite someone who's KNOWN TO BE A WITCH would be disastrous. Zisu insists that Hijiki isn't magical, she just has some gizmos from her world that haven't been invented in this world so they only seem like magic. She tries bringing up the Pokéball, it looks like magic too but it's really just an ordinary object.

But Kamado is firm in his decision, even if Hijiki does have technology that seems like magic, what if she were to use her technology against the village? And some of the most superstitious villagers wouldn't accept that she's not dangerous and would still consider her to be a bad omen. Letting Hijiki stay would be too much of a risk.

Zisu is worried and disappointed. Even though she was one of the people who was terrified of the forest witch, now that she's discovered that she's actually an innocent person who's suffering hard, she feels absolutely horrible that they can't do anything help her. Zisu decides that they should at least head back to Hijiki's shelter and tell her what Kamado said. Maybe they could formulate a different plan, maybe the Diamond Clan or Pearl Clan could take her in instead?

Akari and Zisu return to the shelter to find it completely ransacked and Hijiki is nowhere to be found. Zisu finds a ransom note among the rocks. Turns out that the Miss Fortune Sisters had been spying on them ever since they bumped into them. After they found out that Hijiki wasn't really a witch, they wanted to take revenge on her for attacking Coin, so they kidnapped her and stole all her technology. Seeing an opportunity to spite Akari as well, they wrote on the ransom note that they took Hijiki further north to the Alabaster Icelands. If she wants to get Hijiki back she has to go the ice caverns in the Bonechill Wastes.

Zisu is outraged, but warns Akari that it's most definitely a trap. The Miss Fortune Sisters are most likely using Hijiki as bait to lure her into an ambush far away from where she can get help, and they're probably intending to leave her to die in the frozen wastes. But Akari wants to go save Hijiki anyway so Zisu decides to head back to the village to rally some of the Security Corps as backup and tells Akari that she'll meet her in the Icelands.

Current objective: Chase after the Miss Fortune Sisters!

Meanwhile, Hijiki has been thrown into the the ice pit in the Bonechill Wastes and the Miss Fortune Sisters are currently occupied. Clover is whining about how cold it is as Charm and Coin go through Hijiki's belongings.

She had things like her taser, an aura scanner, a GPS, an Ultra Smartphone etc but they can't figure out how any of them work or what they're used for. Clover is whining about all the effort they put in ended up being for nothing because everything "the witch" has is useless junk, but Charm snaps at her. At least they might be able to sell this overworldly technology on the black market after all. Coin isn't convinced. Who would buy useless garbage that don't work?

Coin starts threatening Hijiki into telling them how to use her gadgets, or else she'll sicc Toxicroak on her, but there's just a slight hiccup. Hijiki is unable to understand what they're saying because they took her translator away so all she does is stare blankly at them. All three of them are oblivious to the fact that Hijiki can't speak Hisuian at all, and that they all sound like nothing but enraged gibberish to her.

All this really does is piss them off. Clover starts yelling at her again, just completely exasperated and baffled. She's literally being held captive by bandits and tossed into an ice pit, probably freezing to death. How could she possibly feel so blasé about it????? Does she not realise the situation she's in right now??? Coin has had enough and decides to let Toxicroak attack Hijiki anyway. If they can't get any use out of her things, at least she'll be able to get payback for the "lightning strike"

At that moment, Akari shows up just in time. The Miss Fortune Sisters do their motto and start evil motive-ing about how THIS TIME for sure they'll win against Akari and leave her to perish in the ice forever. This time they're going to attack her with all three of their Pokémon at once instead of one at a time like the last few fights and overwhelm her with numbers.

Charm and Clover release their Pokémon and instead of joining in, Coin decides to sit it out. She tells the other two that she's still going to attack the witch with Toxicroak and that they could stall Akari long enough to let Toxicroak get enough hits in. Charm and Clover start arguing with her because that was NOT the plan, but Coin just tells them to shut up.

Charm and Clover go 3 Vs 1 as Toxicroak attacks Hijiki, with Charm substituting Toxicroak with her Rhydon. Akari beats them because of Main Character Plot Armour and Charm goes full villainous breakdown and just decides to attack Akari herself, but then out of nowhere, Hijiki's Poipole breaks out of it's Pokéball and glues the Bandits to a rock. Akari jumps down the ice pit to save Hijiki and you end up battling Toxicroak with Poipole instead of your Pokémon.

With the bandits finally defeated for good, the Security Corps show up to apprehend them. Akari stays with Hijiki who's in a really rough shape. She tried to avoid Toxicroak for as long as she could, but it eventually weared her down, and now she's lying unconscious at the bottom of the pit. Zisu immediately orders the two Medical Corps people to take Hijiki back to the village to get her medical attention. The medics are like "You want us to WHAT-" because that would involve taking THE WITCH TO THE VILLAGE, but Zisu yells at them again and they have no choice but to do what she says.

A day later

Scene transition to a day later and Akari is waiting in Kamado's office. There was quite a uproar in the village when the Security Corps returned with the famous Miss Fortune Sisters somehow stuck to a rock and near mass panic occured when the Med Corps rushed the rumoured witch of the woods to the hospital room in the Galactic Building. Professor Laventon runs in, very upset. He can't get any work done with the noise of that many people crowded around the entrance trying to catch a glimpse of the witch to see if she's really as terrifying as people say she is. Kamado informs him that he already sent Cyllene to get them to leave.

Pesselle arrives from the hospital room to give them an update on Hijiki's condition. They're currently treating her for Toxic poisoning, as well as suburns and eye damage. Pesselle is clearly shaken and explains that she's never seen anyone like Hijiki in her life, she's not even sure that she's human. For starters, her eyes are extremely unnatural looking and she's so deathly pale that her skin looks pale blue. Not to mention that she appears to have bioluminescent eyes and freckles.

She's willing to take Zisu's word that Hijiki is still a normal human from another world, but she wonders what kind of world would have people who are so obviously weakened by sunlight. Kamado thanks her for her help and Pesselle returns to her duties, not before telling her to bring this supposed witch to his office once she's recovered enough.

Professor Laventon talks to Akari about the strange purple Pokémon that was following Hijiki around because he's having trouble identifying what it is. Rei speculates that if the witch is from another world, then maybe the purple Pokémon is too. Laventon nearly explodes with excitement because they have the chance to document a Pokémon from another world! Maybe he could ask the witch if he could have a look at it, which is something he immediately goes to do. Rei runs after him in a panic.

Zisu enters with Ginter. Ginter confirms that they managed to get back some of the things Hijiki stole from the Ginkgo Guild, though obviously things like food couldn't be recovered. Zisu asks if he wants to press any charges, and Ginter considers for a moment before ultimately deciding not to. From the sound of things, Hijiki went through a lot and he would feel terrible if he added to her suffering. Zisu regretfully tells them that the Miss Fortune Sisters got away. After they were freed from the glue, they used a smoke bomb and escaped in the confusion, though she thinks that hopefully the bandits would think twice about confronting Akari again.

A while later, Pesselle brings Hijiki up to Kamado's office and the poor woman is shaking like a leaf, half from because she's still weak and the other half because she's obviously terrified of Kamado. In a scene echoing Akari's first meeting with Kamado, he stares Hijiki down and she loses her nerve instantly, backing away and hiding behind Akari. Pesselle scolds Kamado because this is clearly no way to treat a patient, but he reminds her that this is an outsider he's dealing with, and he must test her by having her face him in combat like he did with Akari.

Hijiki stammers and tries to say that she has no idea how to do that "creature combat thing" that Akari and the bandits did and Kamado clarifies by saying he meant PHYSICAL combat, not a Pokémon battle. Hijiki freaks out because she'd just die if she did that. Kamado retaliates by saying that surely someone who is capable of survived in the wilds and ambushing Ginkgo merchants MUST be able to fight, and if she wants to prove herself, she has to.

Hijiki takes a deep breath and just edges close to him, hesitating to even touch him AAAAAND Kamado throws her. Cut to black with a CRASH! text box and fade back in to see Hijiki flat out unconscious on the floor again. Cue Pesselle totally ripping him a new one, yelling at him about how that was totally unnecessary, why does he always have to do this, has he no shame, as text box after text box hits the screen going by too fast for the player to read.

Zisu helps Hijiki to her feet but she's distressed because Kamado managed to dislodge her translator from her belt so she doesn't understand him when he says that someone so cowardly and unwilling to fight clearly isn't a threat to anyone. Hijiki quickly retrieves her device and turns back to Kamado, saying

Hijiki: "I'm very sorry, my translator fell off. I don't speak in whatever language this is so I couldn't understand any of that. Could you please repeat what you said, sir?"

Zisu: "He said that someone so cowardly and unwilling to fight clearly isn't a threat to anyone."

Hijiki: "Oh…"

Kamado then says that if she wants to stay in Jubilife Village she has to be able to contribute to society, so what skills does she have? Hijiki thinks for a moment because she can't remember much but she does have a vague idea of what her old job. She remembers that she was probably a Poipole handler which is why she has one with her, and she was one of the people tasked with taking care of them as they were typically adopted as companions or to help with construction because of their glue (kinda a Zookeeper/animal shelter worker kind of deal)

Pesselle speaks up and says that it kind of reminds her of the people who look after the Pokémon in the village's pastures. Kamado turns away, thinking about it. He would half to discuss it with Zisu because that falls under the Security Corps jurisdiction. Zisu barges in like "DID SOMEONE SAY SECURITY CORPS?" at that moment and startles everyone. She's 100% on board with letting Hijiki help at the pastures.

Hijiki interrupts, unfortunately she can't work during the day because the sun is straight up harmful to her so she doesn't know how useful she could be. Zisu turns to her and proposes that she'll give her a lodge in exchange for her services at the pasture on the night shift. They're needing more people who can stay up all anyway.

Hijiki is stunned. They wouldn't really do that for her, would they? One encouraging grin from Zisu is all she needs to accept the offer and become a full fledged member of the Security Corps.

Catching Poipole

Hijiki thanks the player for everything, and as a reward for completing the sidequest, she gives the player her Poipole because she feels that the player would be better at taking care of it in this new world…. If she can catch it that is.

Catching Poipole plays out like a Legendary Pokémon battle like how you catch Enamourus. As in, it flies around attacking you with poison blasts and you have to stun it before you can throw a Pokémon to battle it.

After this, Hijiki just becomes an ordinary NPC that you can talk to near the pastures (though she can only be encountered at night.) Her appearance changes, as she's now in the Security Corps uniform instead of her Ultra Space/ cloak get up.

As a little easter egg, you can have a rematch with her and she battles you with the Pokémon you gave her in the sidequest. She excitedly explains that Zisu taught her how to partake in "creature combat".

Her dialogue is mostly showing amazement at how cool everything is in Hisui and how she really wishes she could go out and investigate everything like the Ultra Recon Squad. She realises that Akari wouldn't know who the Ultra Recon Squad is and she explains that they're basically her world's equivalent of the Galaxy Team.

She's heard of the legends about Hisui from Rei and is just as intrigued by them as he is. Though her main complaint is that Hisui is a little… behind, technological wise. Though she expresses interest in the player's Arc Phone as it seems a little out of place in this world…

Since the quest is available during the post game, she talks about how scared she was when "the sky turned red and green" (aka that part of the game when the Player is banished from the village and the sky distorts. She remarks that thought that the Blinding One had escaped from the Tower and drained Hisui of it's light, but apparently it was something else. She figures she shouldn't worry about it since it's not this century's problem anyway. The Tower isn't predicted to break down for another two hundred years anyway (Ultra Sun/Ultra Moon Necrozma foreshadowing!)

Ultimately she doesn't affect the story in any way and her sidequest is completely optional, but it is required if you want to be able to catch Ultra Beasts.

Sidequest: ??? The Beasts from Beyond

To trigger the next quest, you have to enter a Space-time Distortion. The next day, Melli barges in to the Galaxy Team headquarters demanding to speak to someone, ANYONE. He claims that he was minding his business, in the Coronet Highlands when all of a sudden a pile of bricks just up and attacked him! They completely ruined his day and scared Lord Electrode and he demands that someone does something about it! Nobody takes him seriously and Rei just thinks he's gone nuts.

But the next day, Warden Palina shows up, looking really worried. A strange pure white Tentacruel creature showed up in the Coastlands and has been behaving aggressively towards anything that approaches it, and even the Alphas won't go near it. Cyllene calls Akari into her office because she's been getting continuous reports of strange monsters being sighted across all of Hisui that apparently emerged from the space-time distortions.

Hijiki runs in, and quickly excuses herself for interrupting. She's really panicked because she heard from the villagers that Hisui is being invaded by monsters that sound suspiciously Ultra Beasts. She volunteers to help because they're creatures from her homeworld so at the very least she's familiar with them and knows what to expect if Akari goes out and attempts to catch them.

To learn about where to catch the Ultra Beasts, you have to talk to Hijiki. She's heard rumours of monsters and such from the people who visit the pastures to see the Pokémon and she thinks she knows exactly what the monsters really are. She has dialogue talking about each Ultra Beast and a hint as to where it's found.

"There's a ghostly figure floating around the Deadwood Haunt. I don't know much about spirits but it sounds an awful lot like Nihilego. It would float around like a ghost, I think." (Deadwood Haunt, Cobalt Coastlands)

"I heard from someone in the Pearl Clan that an insect with huge muscles is challenging an Alpha Machamp to a flexing contest…. I don't understand, do Buzzwole normally behave like that…?" (Arena's Approach, Alabaster Icelands)

"There's a Pheromosa going wild in the bog. What terrible luck to fall into a wormhole and end up in a place so muddy. It hates getting dirty." (Scarlet Bog, Crimson Mirelands)

"That rude man can't catch a break. Apparently his Electrode is being bothered by a Xurkitree that's trying to eat it's electricity… " (Moonview Arena, Coronet Highlands)

"I've heard that a Celesteela has taken root near the Floaro Gardens. The soil there must be very fertile. It's a giant creature that blasts off like a rocket and- Wait, have rockets been invented here yet? Never mind." (Floaro Gardens, Obsidian Fieldlands)

"I've heard that a sharp creature that looks like paper has been cutting down trees in the Heartwoods. It's Kartana, I'm certain. That Lord Kleavor must be jealous of it's cutting edge sword techniques…" (The Heartwood, Obsidian Fieldlands)

"Oh, this is absolutely terrible! A huge monster is eating giant lumps of ice and snow in that tundra! Sounds very uncomfortable, chewing ice hurts my teeth… Oh wait, what was I saying? Yes! Guzzlord! You must stop it before it consumes everything in sight!" (Avalugg's Legacy, Alabaster Icelands)

"The creature that's that looks like a pile of bricks in must be Stakataka, I'm certain. Where did that unpleasant man say he encountered it? Must have been near some ruins?" (Celestica Ruins, Coronet Highlands)

"Um… What's a volcano anyway? I've never heard of such a thing… Apparently there's been the sounds of explosions coming from the volcano that's making people worried. I don't think the explosions are coming from the volcano itself, sounds more like a Blacephalon is causing them." (Firespit Island, Cobalt Coastlands)

To get Naganadel, talk to Hijiki. She'll explain that Poipole have been selectively bred to be unable to evolve by themselves. They must be taught a special move that lets them evolve that only experienced handlers know how to teach, because it's stronger form is too wild and dangerous for the average civilian to handle. She's seen Zisu teach Akari's Pokémon new moves and tells Akari that she needs to get Zisu to teach Poipole the move Dragon Pulse.

Other stuff

And that's everything I've got about Hijiki. If you haven't worked it out already, she's the ancestor of Zossie from the Ultra Recon Squad. Ultra Sun and Ultra Moon are kinda my favourite 3DS Pokémon games and there was a time when I was absolutely obsessed with the Ultra Recon Squad and I was so sure that they'd come back as an explanation for being able to catch Ultra Beasts in the post game of future Pokémon games that I felt ROBBED when they never showed up in the Crown Tundra.

So with the dawn of the idea of Hisuian Ancestors, I thought "Wouldn't it be cool if the ancestor of one of the Ultra Recon Squad fell into Hisui and got mistaken for a supernatural creature because the locals thought their technology was magic?" Because of how massively technologically advanced Ultra Megalopolis is, I figured that even if it was 200 years ago, it'd still be way more advanced than Hisui so anyone who fell through a wormhole would be in for a sort of time traveller-esque fish out of water scenario but without the time travel.

Hijiki is Zossie's great great great great great great great great (however many greats that can fit in 200 years) aunt. She can't be Zossie's great great grandmother because the grandmother has to stay in Ultra Megalopolis for Zossie to even exist at all.

The name of Necro Forest has a double meaning. As soon as you walk into it you think "Oh, Necro = Death because of the Ghost Types" but it's also the first foreshadowing that the ancestor is from Ultra Megalopolis. Who stole the light from Ultra Megalopolis? Necrozma.

If you're one of the 47 people who played USUM, you'd remember that the Ultra Recon Squad had to wear full protection against the sun, which Hijiki lacks, hence the sun burns.

Hijiki is scared of Zisu because she's been stealing from the Ginkgo Guild and she recognises that she's part of the village's law enforcement so she was afraid that she came to catch her and punish her for the thefts.

About the whole glowy eyes thing, that's a headcanon I have about how the inhabitants of Ultra Megalopolis have bioluminescent eyes. It's based off official art of the Ultra Recon Squad where Dulse's eyes appear to be glowing in the dark. What is canon is the whole thing where the Ultra Recon Squad has silver irises and pupils that match their hair colour. If you zoom into their concept art you can see it.

I picked the name Hijiki because it has the same seaweed theme naming that the individual members of the Ultra Recon Squad have. The seaweed she's named after has been part of the Japanese diet for centuries. (At least according to Wikipedia.)

But what was that "lightning magic?* It was just an ordinary taser. Hijiki just nonchalantly tased Coin. You can find the taser among Hijiki's other gadgets in the cave

Bonus: my thought process while reading over part of this:

"Ok, so Hijiki jumps Gingko merchants in the woods and mugs robs them. Wait... wasn't Volo a Ginkgo merchant---"

The result:

This post took me two years of procrastination to make-

#pokémon #pokemon legends arceus #pokémon oc #ultra recon squad #ultra recon squad zossie #pla oc #hisuian ancestor oc #hijiki #well not very good art but still #Behold my inability to draw humans #And my attempt at drawing Volo in the Family Guy Death Pose Meme #Hijiki be like: Woah this world sucks there's not even electricity #I imagine like 200 years later she's a ghost and she sees Zossie and is like WHAT THE FRICK??? FAMILY???? #I just really like the Ultra Recon Squad ok #By pure unfortunate coincidence Hijiki tased Volo like Three times. #He just kept getting robbed by her #Actually originally it was Volo who accompanied you for the sidequest because he wanted to investigate the supernatural #You can tell I started writing this before Legends Arceus came out because #a certain plot development KINDA made it impossible for Volo and the Player to be on friendly terms in the postgame #So I swapped to Zisu because I like her and wanted her to be more involved in stuff

[vodkaskys]

FANFIC REC : masturbation (me descargo de cualquier responsabilidad en estos muuuy explicitos fanfics)

Watermelon Sugar High ( In which Harry Styles fingers a watermelon.) (2K)

give me forever for a while ( light sweet kittenplay because Harry owns multiple collars and he has to use them for something, right?) (5K)

Public Display of Erection (Louis has moved into his new flat and is surprised by what he witnesses out of his window.) (2K)

Nothing but Time on His Dirty Hands (Harry enjoys his daydream about Louis Tomlinson.) (2K)

Talk Dirty To Me ( the one where Harry is absolutely terrible at dirty talk so he asks his best friend to teach him. And the one where Louis knows it's a catastrophically bad idea but agrees anyway.) (13K)

your eyes on me (make me) (Harry has had a particularly shitty week. His flatmate Louis might be able to help him out.) (3K)

daddy daddy cool (harry wakes up hard.) (6K)

Only Write By The Moon  ( Harry's desparate while Louis sleeps.) (4K)

precious little thing ( a university AU featuring phone sex operator Louis, copious amounts of sweet, soft kink discovery, and Louis being Harry's Daddy.) (21K)

let it be, baby breath ( I swear I'm right here)  (First time Harry smokes weed is with Louis.) (3K)

Take Our Bodies Higher  (In which Harry is a phone sex operator and Louis dials a wrong number.) (21K)

Alone Apart, Alone Together ( the one where Harry and Louis sext while apart.) (2K)

We'll Be Seamless (Louis spends all his spare time scrolling arty nude blogs on Tumblr but amongst them all, Green is his favourite.) (52K)

See Clearly Now ( a five-times fic where two guys, one college dorm room and a faulty door lead to a few embarrassing situations and finding out more about themselves and each other than they ever bargained for.) (11K)

let's talk about making love ( Louis is just a simple phone sex line operator, but to Harry, he's Daddy.) (25K)

Never Mind the Furthermore (Louis and Harry have regular phone sex. But they're just friends, okay?) (7K)

down on your knees, you don't look so tall ( as cliche as this style of summary is, a fic where louis and harry are wanking buddies but nothing more) (3K)

Another Day Gettin' Into Trouble ( Harry’s drunk when the idea occurs to him. He’s also a pop star, so sometimes his drunk ideas turn into actual things instead of just ideas. The clone-a-willy kit is one of them.) (25K)

'cause lately i've been waking up alone ( Harry gives Louis a very special sex toy for an early birthday present, and Louis uses it on Skype when Harry's in LA.) (5K)

Lights off, Lights on (Louis can't get enough of listening to Harry touching himself.) (2K)

Talk Dirty When You Talk To Me (After a night out with Stan, Louis gets a dirty text message from a unknown number. Thinking its his best friend he replies. It turns out to be a boy named Harry. An experience Louis' never had before happens after a heated discussion with said boy.) (8K)

got my eyes on you (Harry’s not supposed to take off his clothes, but it’s one of those unspoken rules, much like don’t have a wank with your best mate and definitely don’t make that a regular thing, fuck, what the fuck.) (2K)

highway to hell (It's their anniversary and Harry is running late. Louis is done waiting.) (2K)

#larry fanfic rec #larry fanfiction #fanfiction rec list #fanfic rec #ao3larry #AO3 fanfic #ao3fic #explicity smut #Smut

[carissimipaixao]

─ i. FAMILIAR

[ sixth entry of the thirty themes challenge ]

published on: january 10, 2023

pairing: okabe rintarou & reader

summary: being about as lucky as a black cat, you are able to sign up for an internship, landing in tokyo denki university.

word count: 1.2k

soundtrack: as the world caves in (matt maltese)

entries: i. | ii.

note: this will be a multiple-chapters fanfic, and each entry will be numbered accordingly on the top of the story. if you are reading this from a reblog, don’t forget to check the original at my blog, due to broken or missing links!

second note: link to the masterpost!

third note??: small changes, but definitely changed the pov!

There is something fascinating about the way the snow falls upon the streets of Tokyo. It lands softly on the ground, not unlike a butterfly’s kiss, and it covers the busy streets in an angelic whiteness that strikes your heart with a sense of nostalgia and longing. It reminds you of childish wonder, curiously enough. Though, as much as you would love to lose yourself in Tokyo, as much as you would enjoy getting to know more of its culture and people, you have to firmly remind yourself why you are here in the first place.

It had been joyful news when you received two lone letters, inside the otherwise empty mailbox — a letter announcing the final results of the internship program you had signed up for, and another, from the university she wished to temporarily study at. In fact, upon receiving the results, you had barely given it any thought, rushing to pack your bags and daydreaming about the moment you would set your feet inside that plane and fly across the globe. Back home, your teachers had always mentioned — in the highest of regards — the university’s long partnership with Tokyo Denki University, and it seemed obvious, from the start, why they would be so proud of that relationship. After all, Tokyo Denki is one of the biggest universities there is when it comes to engineering and biology courses.

However, despite your excitement, you should have known better ━ things never went your way. And, it had become glaringly apparent once more when you began your first day at school by waking up much later than you had initially expected and by, consequently, arriving ungracefully late to class. You had missed the train you were meant to catch and had to wait for the next one, while the thought of walking over twenty minutes loomed over your head. When you finally arrive at the University, with a very long and profoundly ashamed apology planned out — and recited — in the back of your mind, you proceed to nearly enter the wrong classroom, just a few moments before something in your mind clicked, telling you that hey, maybe, you should check your schedule, just in case.

A good start, as always.

But, this is not entirely your fault, right? You try to reason with yourself.

You’re only a foreigner in an unknown country, by yourself and with no one else to look after you. No Mommy or Daddy to pack your lunch and remind you of which bus or which train you have to pick and at what time. You are aware that you should have studied the schedules in advance, but having focused solely on unpacking your bags and trying to live through the jet lag had been stronger than you. Additionally, you know you ought to talk to someone, preferably someone from your own class, so that you can learn more about the public transportation that is available to your liking, as well as the University itself.

However, a much bigger part of you is against that idea.

Making friends — as embarrassing as it is to admit — has never been your strongest point. You have always been in your own corner, away from everyone, fearing what they would think of you. But, now? With the threat of being scolded right in your first day at the Japanese university (as you have seen your own professors do before)?

I already know I’ll be known as this girl who always arrives late, who is irresponsible, who━

Lost in your thoughts, as you rounds the corner, you collide into something—

No, someone.

Your eyes fall immediately on your belongings, scattered across the floor. You huffs lightly, but murmurs a quick apology as you kneel to grab everything as fast as you can. ‘I’m so sorry.’ Why, oh why, am I so clumsy, again? The man mirrors your movements, an apology coming out of his lips as he, too, begins to gather the papers and the manual that had fallen. You spare a glance around the ground, looking at the papers you have already gathered in your hands, and you finally watch in increasing anxiety as the stranger takes hold of the last papers.

All of your personal information, including your new schedule and internship declaration, are in those papers; it’d be best if they were not lost. It is not really necessary to carry all that documentation around, but you prefer to. Prevention is better than cure, after all (especially when one’s biography is filled with incidents that could have been avoided if you would have just listened to that proverb).

The stranger in front of you exhales a sigh, lining up the papers in his hands so that they are neatly organized. Both of you stand up in a nearly comedic synchronicity, reaching for your fallen books as you do, and your eyes meet. His breath catches in his throat, as whatever words he has planned to utter refuse to come out. His eyes widen and, just as his body appears to freeze, you feel your own tense. Suddenly, that feeling — your insecurities — begin to surface, your head ringing once again. You feel like an outlander, out of place, and you remind yourself that you are only a foreigner — simply and forevermore an outsider. You have always played that part, anyway.

You spare a quick glance at the clock in the wall, ignoring how your fingers twitch, beat by beat, and turn to the man, avoiding his gaze altogether. As if not wishing to alert a tiny, vulnerable animal, you reach for the papers in his hands. You force a polite smile — perhaps the equivalent of a dog’s, attempting to mimic its master — and bow your head.

‘Thank you. Now, if you’ll excuse me.’ Not wasting any second, you walk around him, continuing on your journey to the classroom. Your pace is slower than before, and you take deep breaths to calm down your heart, to shut away the fears and insecurities that had creeped in your brain and taken over. The classroom is near, you tell yourself and mentally prepare yourself for whatever punishment the professor decides to give you for your lateness, as well as for the curious and amused — outsider, outsider — stares of your new colleagues.

Yet, you can’t brush off the uncomfortable feeling that is crawling up your skin — a sensation left behind by the widened stare of that stranger. Something about it pulls on your heart’s strings. You saw a storm of emotions in them, in just those short seconds. Fright, surprise, confusion, chaos unleashed. It was perplexing, but you decide not to pay it any mind.

Hopefully, you think to yourself, we won’t see each other ever again. And then, I can sleep peacefully at night.

Much to your dismay, however, the sight of a red book on top of your desk promises otherwise. The written name on the very first page of the engineering manual seems to be laughing at you, mockingly, because, after all, the Universe has an unique and twisted sense of humor. By either fate or just plain bad luck, you know you will be seeing Okabe Rintaro again.

#okabe rintarou #okabe rintaro #rintarou okabe #rintaro okabe #okabe rintarou x reader #okabe rintaro x reader #x reader #reader #reader-insert #steins;gate #steinsgate #steins;gate 0 #steins;gate zero #steinsgate 0 #steinsgate zero #fic: familiar

[vespersposts]

Wildchild [6]

Hi everyone! Hope this weekend will be a blast for each of you, I had a pretty rough week, so i need need some old good fluff to rejoice. That's why this chapter will be labeled ad NC-17, nothing too explicit, but i prefer to play safe.

As usual, thank to everyone who's reading, liking, commenting.

My box is always open, help me to improve!

Previous chapters

Catch you later!

V.

"Now it's perfect!" you say as you leave the music club piano "Let's all go and rest and tomorrow we'll do even better!" you wrap, applauding the guys who stayed until dinnertime to rehearse.

You are tired, but also happy. You walk back to the main building with the president of the music club who drops you off near the shoe cupboards, and suddenly you remember when it was Sei who walked you to your filing cabinet, and you were talking about how to plan the activities of the music club of which he was honorary president.

What a great guy you had been given the opportunity to associate with, so busy and yet always so present and kind, ready to put up with your every problem despite his worries.

You smile as you dial his number, because after such a tiring day, you felt the need of something as pleasant and caressing as his voice.

You wait for a few rings and, in the meantime, you try to move away spotting in the distance the figures of Satsuki and Daiki, accompanied by another very attractive girl whom the champion keeps close by, probably your replacement for the ice-cream party.

“One is as good as the other, as it was meant to be “ you think, returning to the phone call only when the Kyoto boy's voice reaches your ears.

He has a strange tone, if you didn't know better you'd say he's on the run, as if you've taken him by surprise.

"What are you up to Seijuro?" you ask him playfully when he asks if he can call back in a couple of minutes. 

"You practically dragged me out of the shower, I'm flooding the bathroom, actually!" he reports you, without having any idea what he's communicating to your brain. 

Diaphan skin covered in thin drops of warm water running from his shoulders to his chest, down to his abdomen to the curve of his hips and then falling from his muscular legs to his feet. Steam perfumed with his expensive cologne, the dark green marble-lined bath that so contrasts with his silky magenta hair. You can even see his locks, clinging to his temples and forehead now that it is loaded with water, you imagine your fingers slowly stroking it and then lightly ruffling it, as he rewards you with a warm smile and his eyes looking at you full of  desire. 

"Is everything alright?" the voice on the phone asks, his surprise waking you from your own daydream in a blink.

"Yes. No, I mean..I..." you stammer, your brain still too busy processing your fantasy to articulate a meaningful speech. 

"Did I say something that distracted you, darling?" you hear his voice again, taking on a different tone this time, so confidential and direct, so exciting.

"Are you smiling Sei?" you ask him. 

"Maybe, but only a little" he confides, making you laugh.

"See you in a bit, then" you interrupt the call, telling him you'll gladly wait. 

You lean your back against the lockers and grin like a fool at the mere thought that right now he might be the one having some coordination problems.

Leaving the school grounds, you decide to stretch your way to buy a ready-made meal at one of the many eateries scattered along the streets near the office complex, a block away, because if you were to start cooking, the day could only get worse.

You retrieve the tray of sashimi from the shop assistant's hands and decide to spoil yourself with a melon kakigōri, because the heat is stifling and it's a long way home. You have just tightened your lips around the straw of the slushie, when you hear your name called by an unknown voice, the same one who tells you a little later that her name is Yoshiko and that she is Aomine senpai's date for the evening.

"Alright Yoshiko, good for you" is all you manage to say, unable to hide a hint of annoyance now that he's staring at you as if he's caught you spying on him.

"Are you coming inside to say hello to Tetsu?" he asks, pointing to a nearby diner.

"I'd love to, but I'm afraid my food will get cooked!" you decline, causing him to peek at the contents of your bag under the girl's sharp gaze.

"Eat it at our table, what is the matter with you?" he asks, taking your hand which you immediately retract.

" I'm waiting for Seijuro to call " you inform him to solve the matter.

"Again?" he asks puzzled, as if you are making up an excuse to test him.

"Is he your boyfriend?" the girl interjects, immediately drawing both of your attention to herself with that careless exit.

"I don't think I'm answering to you, Yoshiko" you reply, tossing the slushy that's dripping onto your hand into the nearby bin, as if you were a five-year-old toddler.

"Have a nice evening" you conclude, turning on your heels, before your patience comes to an end.

"Hang in there until Saturday morning" you tell yourself several times, although the spell doesn't seem to work.

At the large oak kitchen table you stare at the tray of sashimi, which looks livid, just like your mood. You pass a hand over your eyes, take a sip of water and decide to throw everything in the rubbish, just as you should do with your Tokyo life.

What was going through your mind when you decided to go back to that cursed place?

What were you thinking when you promised Satsuki to make things right with that demon Aomine?

Why didn't you stay in Kyoto with him, in his beautiful house?

You squeeze your eyes shut, chase back the tears where they came from, and stare at the phone until it vibrates. 

You inhale, swallow and try to sound smiling, but as soon as you hear that voice asking how you are, the only thing you can say is that you want to get back to him.

"I miss you too" the boy on the other end of the phone admits "But when I think about seeing you off the train in a day, it feels like a necessary pain to better appreciate that moment" he concludes, making you feel instantly warm.

"Sei..." you tell him, smiling at the phone screen.

"I know, I shouldn't embarrass you with such reasoning, but then again, what should I tell you? That everything is fine when, deep down, my only concern is that you don't want to come back to me?" he confesses to you in a long sigh.

“I'd even walk back to you” you reply immediately “I'd leave now, if I didn't have that damn award ceremony!” you conclude, deciding to omit the dinner detail.

There is a brief silence, then the Kyoto boy's voice picks up the conversation.

“I'm not behaving right towards you” he admits, simply.

“Fine with me” you inform him, tracing the dark trail of the wooden table.

"It's not fair though" he replies.

"That's not the point, Sei" you contradict him, resuming after a further silence "If that's the only way I can have you, then that's fair enough" you conclude, shifting your gaze to the large window behind you.

Akashi remains silent, because you already know what he should repeat.

The arranged marriage, that girl from whom at first he couldn't wait to get away, which had slowly worked its way into his heart, like the drop that cleaves the rock. That was until he had had a chance to live with you, in his home. Seeing you constantly among his things, discovering day after day your every habit, being able to move easily among your thoughts until he was emotionally naked before your eyes meant everything to him, everything he had always wanted in a relationship.

A dizzying intimacy that had been born like the flowers in his garden, at first with uncertain steps and many misunderstandings: buds that feared frost but which, nourished by the warm sun and some special attention, had blossomed without fear or shame, revealing their absolute beauty. A hunger for contact that the other girl did not even seem to grasp, but which was nevertheless not reason enough for him to give himself the privilege of choosing for himself, because she was his father's only option.

"I don't want you to feel you have to choose if you're not ready to" you tell him with a sigh "What I feel is up to you, but it mainly belongs to me, always remember that. My situation is not the result of loneliness or fear, it's my decision. I have chosen what I am experiencing and I cannot impose anything on you, or blame you for anything' you conclude, leaving your interlocutor to his thoughts again.

" Ironically I'd be better off if you treated me with resentment, I'd understand if you never wanted to deal with me again, I'd feel I was partly paying for my faults. I don't know how to express it better than that. My attitude is unspeakable, I myself find it unfair, but I can't do any better for now, forgive me" he replies slowly, as if he is searching for a meaning to his thoughts. 

"I'm not like that" you smile "I can't even be like that with those who deserve it, let alone with you. When we'll get the answers we're looking for, we'll talk about it" you conclude, lowering your gaze.

"Have you met him yet?" he asks you to change the subject.

"Yes, today we had rehearsals for the ceremony. He is always the same, like Momoi after all. I also spoke with senpai Wakamatsu, it's been years since I've seen him" you inform him with the same enthusiasm with which you read the shopping list.

"Captain Wakamatsu, the hero who saved your future!" comments the other, snatching you a smile.

"The one who saved my future was you, Seijuro. You and the surgeon who allowed me to get my hand back" you specify, remembering how that luminary's visit to a high school infirmary had made headlines.

"I did what I thought was right, but you need to learn to be a little more obnoxious; hearing you say such things without being near you is quite torturing!" he tells you, suddenly uncomfortable now that the usual diligent butler announces the arrival of dinner.

"Saturday" you reply to him, once you recover his attention "Make sure you get the day off and I'll pay all my debts, I promise" you close the call, then remaining a few minutes with your head in your hands staring into space.

You get out of the shower, slip into your nightgown and place your Too Academy uniform on your desk chair, preparing all the accessories you will need for tomorrow's event, all to avoid thinking about that note you now twirl between your fingers.

You shake your head and slip it into the first drawer you find, out of your sight.

You open the window, knowing that looking to the left, on a clear day like that, you can easily see the outline of his house, surrounded by the lovely garden in which Natsume works on her translations throughout the fine season. A spontaneous garden of lavender and flowering plants added over the years, that attracts insects and butterflies, so different from that living work of art you get to see in Kyoto.

You feel your shoulders tugging, your head heavy, but you know that if you got into bed you wouldn't be able to fall asleep. You sit on the edge of the bed, pick up the phone to set the alarm and it vibrates, alerting you to the arrival of a message that you think is from Momoi, but is actually from Tetsu.

-Speaking of today, there’s one thing I can't understand: why do you pretend to be indifferent to Aomine-kun if you then pull out all the stops to make him chase you? I don't find that fair, unless Satsuki is right. You should think about it - he writes, wishing you goodnight.

Typical Tetsu, saying the worst things with disarming simplicity.

This time, however, you can't blame him, and that's what makes you most nervous.

What should you reply to Tetsu? 

That you are disappointed?

That you tied some of the most important memories for you, to a person who turned out to be a lost cause? 

You ran away, you turned your back on him but only because you had no resources for yourself either.

Unlike him, you are the one who has always tried again, against all your interests, allowing him everything, every time, as if each time you wanted to believe you could start over with a one who, having achieved his goal, had built a wall of silence between you. He forced you each time to fear seeing each other, because each time he will fight and defeat you in his stupid routine of punishing you for preferring Seijuro to him.

You are so angry because you waste a lot of time thinking about him, especially now that you are ready to move on.  

You think back to when it all started, when you were just two kids in the last year of middle school, caught up in your ridiculous problems. Yours was named Hitoshi Abe, captain of the aikido team who had specifically asked to have you as guest during his performance at the summer festival, a performance that would be followed by a tour of the fair, where you would meet up with the boys. You remember your and Momoi's excitement when the rumour spread, later proved false, that he would try to kiss you on the path between the dojo and the stalls. 

You had tried to find out, with questionable discretion, if any of the boys on the basketball team had any good advice for you, but apart from a few hilarious misunderstandings, your investigation had led to nothing good, until Kise passed that information on to you, picked up among the chatter of his female admirers who often reported gossip about his teammates only to succeed in approaching him.

"Easy peasy!" you told yourself, ready to complete your mission that very evening.

Coming home with Daiki at that time was standard, and a part of you was genuinely grateful that he was the one who had to give you directions, as he would get straight to the point, after the obvious remonstrances about your absurd crush on that freak Hitoshi Abe. Sitting on the wooden porch with a ice lolly in your hand, you greet your grandmother who is retiring for the night and ,as soon as her footsteps drift away, you ask him your awkward question which is returned to sender with jaded air.

"Dai-chan please, you're the only one who knows how to do it, I've already asked everyone" you beg him approaching.

"Did you really go to Midorima and ask him to teach you how to make out? What a brave girl!" he teases you, breaking off a piece of ice before extending a mischievous glance at you "And Akashi? What did your precious Seijuro tell you?" he asks, erasing the distance between you.

"I didn't ask him" you admit, swinging your legs "But... If you were a good friend Dai-chan..." you resume, getting yet another bored look.

"I don't have a clue how to kiss a girl, I've never done it!" he confesses to you suddenly "All this fuss over that idiot Hitoshi Abe" he grumbles, throwing the popsicle stick into the dark garden.

Now you are the one looking at him, but with tenderness, because in his own way he is trying to protect you. He takes the popsicle from your hands, which he finishes in two bites, ready to get rid of that stick too, so he can go home and interrupt that uncomfortable conversation.

"What is it again?" he asks you, being disturbed by your fingers holding his hand and letting the stick fall to the ground. 

"I care about you too Daiki" you tell him, handing him back so he can be free to leave. You hear him inhale, see him get up, so you follow a few steps away in his shadow to the porch door, where he waits motionless to give you way to the front door. You slide in front of him, drowning the silence in a chant of banality that is only interrupted when a large, warm hand rests on the back of your neck, calling for your attention. You feel his fingers descend between your shoulder blades and stop just above your lumbar curve to pull you gently towards him, his body bending forward just enough for his forehead to make contact with yours. You hear him breathe quietly, as he caresses your temple with his free hand, waiting for you to open your eyes.

You seek his gaze, smile and rely on him completely, rising up on your tiptoes to erase the distance and prevent any means of flight. His lips touch yours for a brief, nervous, strange moment, which you invite him to repeat soon after, using the collar of his shirt as a means of communication, pleasantly surprising him. You slide your hands to the sides of his face, he lets you bring him close again and then you return the contact, stopping a little longer on his lips that still taste of aniseed, turning your face to allow him to deepen the kiss. You feel your body go up in flames as his tongue explores your mouth, his long-fingered hands caress your neck and from there, travel to your shoulders and breasts, gradually making their pressure more definite. Your breath breaks on his lips, as he closes you completely against him and you feel his abdomen pressed against yours, his warm breath leaving your face to take the same direction of his hands.

If it hadn't been for a noise on the stairs that had alerted you to your grandmother's arrival, you probably would have stayed smooching all night, too wrapped up in each other to even take a step.

To this day you remember nothing more of that evening, but what you do remember is still enough to upset you. You leave your mobile phone on the bedside table, lean your head against the pillow and tell yourself that there is only one day left.

#knb x reader #aomine daiki #aomine x reader #aomine x you #akashi seijuro #akashi x reader #akashi x you #the basketball which kuroko plays #kuroko no basket #knb #knb fluff #knb nc-17 #vesperfairytales #vesperdreams #vesperwrites

[jpswan]

Our lives are made up of choices. Sometimes we take the time to think about what the consequences could be. Sure we don’t always know the extent of those consequences, but we have a general idea. Sometimes we step into them blindly, the outcomes all unknown and making our paths uncertain. We fall into the abyss, stepping right off the ledge, hoping something or someone catches us. All while having one thought, this decision could lead to catastrophe. But then again, what is life without risks? If something has the risk of being a catastrophe, couldn’t it also have the chance of being the salvation, our paradise, we’ve been seeking?

Many would say that only being seventeen is what caused me to step off the ledge, caught up in the daydream. Others would, unfortunately, say I am more like my mother than I would ever care to admit. Making life-altering decisions without much thought. Maybe they’re all right. But all I know for certain is that falling would be my soul's salvation and damnation.

——𝔽𝕠𝕣𝕜𝕤 𝕄𝕒𝕣𝕔𝕙 — —

Paxton 3rd POV

Tick...tick...tick…

Gray-blue orbs watched the second hand on the old, cracked clock above the chalkboard. The pencil in her right hand tapped in time with the seconds that went by. The brunette’s mind counted down how much longer until the last bell rang. Her left knee bounced underneath her desk, knocking it slightly. The seventeen-year-old was unsure if her anxiety was because she wanted time to stop or if she wanted it to speed up. Honestly, it was probably a combination. The day had been one of apprehension, something that had been built over a few weeks. After that call from Renee one rainy afternoon. Bella had decided to finally return to Forks.

Now, most would believe that would be a happy occasion. For Charlie, it was, in his own socially awkward way, at least. For one Paxton Swan, it was a deeper mix of emotions. The fraternal twins were not close. They hadn’t ever really been. More strangers than twins or even family. Like that third cousin twice removed that you might see at the family reunion that only happened every ten years. It wasn’t as drastic as that or so she’d been told, but it felt like that to the teen.

Charlie and Renee had divorced a mere three months after the twins were born. Renee claimed Forks was too depressing with all the rain, and their whole relationship had been fast-paced. She wanted a new start, “to do things more carefully in the future.” That thought made Paxton roll her eyes hard. Their mother was erratic at best. But when they divorced, the twins were split; Bella went with Renee, and Paxton stayed with Charlie. The original plan had been to alternate holidays, birthdays were to be shared in one place or the other, and split summers between each parent. That plan had only lasted until they were roughly five. It had broken Charlie’s heart even more, and if Paxton was being honest, part of her own.

As Paxton’s thoughts went deeper into the complicated family dynamics, her pencil began to bounce off-beat with the second hand. A melodious clearing of a throat sounded behind the brunette, loud enough to drag her out of a spinning mind. She swallowed roughly, knowing exactly who was sitting directly behind her, an empty seat between them. Paxton didn’t swallow out of fear like a large number of classmates would but from the anxiety of actually having to turn around. To somewhat socialize. Like Charlie, at times, Pax wasn’t good with interactions. It was a struggle that had led to many meetings between teachers, councilors, and her father. Also medications, but that was a fact many didn’t know.

Instantly, the bouncing and tapping stopped as shoulders slumped just a little, and Paxton just barely slid down in the hard plastic chair. She nearly felt like a scolded child. Her head turned back to look over her shoulder, eyes locked on the most beautiful woman Pax had ever seen; Rosalie Hale. It should be illegal and impossible to be as beautiful as the blonde was. Nearly unblemished pale skin, softly kissed by the beauty mark above her lip, blonde hair that looked silkier than even the finest Egyptian high thread count sheets, and a body that should have been on the cover of the Vogue magazines Alice always flipped through. Another hard swallow caused her throat to bob as one perfectly sculpted brow raised; Paxton was not intimidated, just in awe. Or so she kept telling herself. “S-sorry,” The brunette muttered. For a millisecond, it almost looked like honey eyes softened; that was enough for Paxton to know Rosalie wasn’t really annoyed with her, just possibly concerned.

So maybe they’d only spoken around one hundred words total to each other in the last two years, but the Swan was pretty confident they’d developed their own language. Between different glints in their eyes and the different turns of their lips. Of course, it was more than likely in her head. “I’m good…” Paxton still tried to reassure the blonde, going with what she believed was their language. The bell nearly cut off the words, and if one looked close enough, they would have perhaps seen the blonde give a brief nod before she stood with the rest of the students to empty the room. Paxton sighed as she gathered her textbooks, notebook, and stuffed her pencil behind her ear.

The Cullens were a mystery. No one could deny that. Even with the small glances they’d allowed Paxton to have over time, she was nearly as clueless as the rest of her classmates. The only one she remotely had an understanding of was Alice, the bubbly ray of sunshine. The two had shared more than half their classes since the family had arrived in town. They’d built a sort of friendship from that. Which some were jealous of, while others judged. But the Swan didn’t care.

Feet drug as Paxton maneuvered through the hoard of students, thankful to be set free. There wasn’t the same drive in the Swan to get home that evening. For a brief moment, while nimble fingers turned the dial on her locker, she wondered if she could swing by the diner for a milkshake just to drag out time. “Paxton!” The teen looked over as she stuffed a few things into her backpack that she’d need while she put other things away. What truly was the point of homework after being stuck in school for almost nine hours? The answer, more torture.

“Hey, Angela.” A tiny genuine half-smile curled the left side of chapped lips. The other teen leaned against the closed locker beside Paxton, a smile on her lips. Angela was one of the only real friends the Swan had at this school; the only person she saw as down-to-earth and never judgmental. Having known each other since preschool also helped a little. The only other real friend she had was Leah Clearwater, but she was stuck at the school on the Rez. Paxton wished they could be side by side, a duo few would likely not mess with.

“So you're riding with your dad to Port Angeles to pick up your sister, right?” There was just a hint of hopefulness in Angela’s voice. The girl had been trying to talk Paxton into doing so all week.

“No,” Paxton groaned as she shut her locker, shouldering her bag. “Besides, by the time I get home dad will have already left.” If she’d wanted to go, she’d have skipped the last period. Which just felt wrong, a momentary flash of honey eyes and blonde hair entered her mind.

“Pax-“ Angela started with a disappointed look. With a small shake of her head, Paxton was back to reality.

“Don’t.” She gave the other girl a meaningful look. “Don’t start.” The two began their trek out of the school, side by side, “I just don’t want to go. I’ll see her later. Let me enjoy my last two hours of Isabella freedom.” The last sentence was close to a beg. Angela rolled her eyes, shoulder bumping into the taller girl’s side. “What?” Paxton shrugged, more than tired of this conversation. “Look, she’s moving here not because she missed dad or me. Not because she wants to rebuild relationships. She’s moving here so Renee can travel with her new husband. Something else I wasn’t asked to go to.” This time it was Paxton’s turn to roll her eyes. How could you get remarried and not invite one of your own daughters? Apparently, it was easier than the teen thought. She’d never even met Phil. “I haven’t seen Bella in like seven years, she stopped coming out here for a few weeks in the summer, and they decided their lives were too busy for me to go out there.” Paxton swallowed roughly as her hands trembled. To avoid her friend seeing one of her well-known ticks, Paxton stuffed her hands into the pockets of her jeans.

Paxton held one of the doors open, so Angela could exit first, ignoring the sound of Jessica approaching behind them with a rambunctious Mike and Eric. “I haven’t talked to her longer than two minutes on our birthday and Christmas. I’m not going to spend an hour stuck in the car for the most awkward family reunion ever.”

“Is this because you genuinely don’t want her here or because you haven’t told her about—“

“Me being a lesbian?” The Swan cut her off, and a tiny smirk pulled at the corners of her lips. “No. Renee doesn’t even know unless dad said something, which I don’t think he would.” She had no idea how her sister would react to that news, though truly it couldn’t have been that surprising. Besides, her sexuality was one thing Paxton was comfortable with. Had it taken time and a lot of talking to get to that point? Yes. But she truly didn’t care what others thought about it, especially her mother or sister.

The two headed down the stairs. Gunmetal blue eyes wandered to the bright red Mercedes convertible still parked in its usual spot. A few Cullen’s were standing there; it seemed like they were waiting on Edward. Alice gave a small wave when they briefly met eyes, and Paxton gave a small nod in return. The scoff behind the two walking teens made her agitation start to rise. Jessica was horrible at hiding her jealousy over the small connection, friendships if you could call them that, she had with the family. It wasn’t Paxton’s fault Alice liked her, or the others seemed to at least tolerate her presence.

“Are you scared to tell her?” Jessica asked in a tone that was more of a taunt than concern that gained a look from Angela. She moved to stand on Paxton’s other side, eyes curious to get the scoop on the taller girl’s feelings.

“She can’t be that scared,” Erik countered as he moved beside Angela.

“Yeah, she already came out to a whole town.” Tyler chuckled, an arm slung around Paxton’s shoulders. “This girl has some balls of steel.”

The Swan shrugged his arm off, “I didn’t come out. I just didn’t deny it when people asked or gossiped,” She gave Jessica a pointed look, the girl not even showing a hint of shame for her previous actions, “about me. My dad was the only one who mattered.” Which to the seventeen-year-old was the truth. She didn’t care what the town thought. She just worried about what it would mean for her father and their relationship. Thankfully Charlie had been understanding and patient. It was a little awkward, but he tried his hardest to let Paxton know she was safe and loved no matter what. Her dad was always in her corner.

“So you’re scared,” The smile that always appeared on Jessica’s lips when she thought she had juicy gossip made itself known. Paxton wished she could knock it off her lips, but that would just cause issues she didn’t want to deal with. She’d promised Charlie this year she wouldn’t get into any fights. It also wouldn’t be a fair fight, Paxton would have too much of an upper hand.

“No,” Paxton deadpanned then unlocked and opened the driver's side door to her slightly faded 1980s baby blue Jeep. She tossed her bag inside to the passenger's seat. “Like with everyone else, if she asks, I’ll tell her. Otherwise, who cares?” A stare was sent Jessica’s way. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I only have,” The teen looked down at her watch, “an hour and a half before my life changes. I want to get a milkshake and work on some cords I have stuck in my head.” Music was always a good escape for the brunette. It helped center her, made her focus, and cleared her mind until all that was left was her creations.

Before Paxton could react, Angela hugged her, “Text me if you need me, okay?” The words whispered, and Paxton only hugged her tighter as a response before she let go. She knew the offer was genuine. Anything said between the two would stay that way.

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” Paxton climbed into the Jeep, shoulders relaxing some as she watched her ‘friends’ walk away. She put the keys in the ignition and reached for her aux cord to plug in her phone. Music automatically started to play through the speakers, and a smirk crossed chapped lips as the familiar song played. A tattooed left hand cracked the driver's side window some. The right popped open the center console to pull out a battered and worn pack of Marlboro Reds—a habit not many knew about, mainly because it wasn’t a constant. One pack from Tyler lasted several weeks. If Charlie knew, Paxton wasn’t sure how he’d take it. The two had been through a lot together with her inner demons. The girl wasn’t trying to take advantage of his patience and understanding. Hell, he’d taken her to get her tattoos after she’d explained the significance of them.

I don't need nothing when I'm by your side. We got something that'll never die; Our dreams, our pride. My heart beats like a drum (all night). Flesh to flesh, one to one (and it's alright).

For some reason, as she lit the cigarette and put the Jeep in reverse, Paxton’s eyes were drawn deeper back as she looked over her shoulder. Once more, gunmetal orbs met deep honey that she could drown within.

And I'll never let go cause there's something I know deep inside. You were born to be my baby and baby, I was made to be your man

Scarred brows furrowed as Rosalie held her stare. Something Paxton didn’t quite understand swirled in eyes she had previously thought she knew by now.

We got something to believe in even if we don't know where we stand.

Only God would know the reasons. But I bet he must have had a plan.

'Cause you were born to be my baby and baby, I was made to be your man.

A chill went down her spine. Her heartbeat sped up like a drum just as the song had mentioned. In an instant, Rosalie was peeling out of the parking lot, which left a very confused Paxton Swan. The blonde couldn’t have heard the lyrics. It wasn’t turned up that loud. With a shake of her head, she reversed out of her spot to head home. She only had about an hour left before everything would change. The brunette just didn’t know how much.

So hold me close better hang on tight. Buckle up, baby, it's a bumpy ride. We're two kids hitching down the road of life. Our world, our fight.

If we stand side by side (all night) there's a chance we'll get by (and it's alright). And I'll know that you'll live in my heart till the day that I die.

#drabble #twilight drabble #twilight roleplay #indie twilight rp #Rosalie Hale wanted #Rosalie Hale rp wanted #Rosalie Hale #Rosalie Hale x OC

[tryst-art-archive]

Failed College Essays 1

These paragraphs were all in one doc, and I think they encapsulate what was happening with me at the end of '08 pretty well. My depression was rampaging, and I was angry.

              I started as a girl named R[...],  my imagination expanding  beyond my capabilities. My ideas stretched into infinity while my body remained firmly grounded in the ever-turbulent yet uninteresting tides of reality. Bored with what was around me precisely because it was around me, I grew into a young woman called R[...]. In the process of doing so, I created well over two hundred individual characters, several fictional species and races, a small handful of worlds, a number of tales, and what is arguably my own brand of fantasy writing. I also produced what must now be thousands of sketches,  hundreds of finished artistic pieces, several website layouts, some amateurish films and sound  clips, and a vast multitude of written pieces. At present, I have roughly six novels in progress as well as five tales which I plan to present in a comic format to the Internet.  I also have a website displaying some of my work set up on the internet. What I do not have is direction.

              Can any person be truly prepared for the tsunamis that wash over their lives, forcing them on to new, unknown lands? The first years-long escape from the parental abode looms before hundreds of  eager high school seniors. Many will move far from their home, some going to other countries or even continents to pursue the tentative education of their choice. Hundreds upon thousands of new adults step into a world that they have been ill-prepared for, blind to the dangers of the life that awaits them. Twelve years of schooling and we are still not done. We pack the paraphernalia of our lives into cardboard boxes, traverse meters or miles, and, after a long and grueling process of paperwork and waiting, step into a life we have no way of truly expecting. We have ourselves and our boxes. We have the possibilities of success and failure floating before us, our eyes unable to pierce through the mists and into the future.

              How can we, mere children, be expected to produce a decision? How can we be expected to select the school and the place that will allow us to grow, to soar, to become somehow better than ourselves? We are victim, now, to the truths of others. Reality is a subjective entity; what seems true to one person may, in fact, be a falsehood for another.  Few facts are truly indisputable.

 

 

I started as a girl named R[...],  my imagination expanding  beyond my capabilities. My ideas stretched into infinity while my body remained firmly grounded in the ever-turbulent yet uninteresting tides of reality. Bored with what was around me precisely because it was around me, I grew into a young woman called R[...]. In the process of doing so, I created well over two hundred individual characters, several fictional species and races, a small handful of worlds, a number of tales, and what is arguably my own brand of fantasy writing. I also produced what must now be thousands of sketches,  hundreds of finished artistic pieces, several website layouts, some amateurish films and sound  clips, and a vast multitude of written pieces. At present, I have roughly six novels in progress as well as five tales which I plan to present in a comic format to the Internet.  I also have a website displaying some of my work set up on the internet. I have enjoyed the company of videogames and computers for the entirety of my life, and I have long enjoyed the fluffy entertainment of cartoons and Japanese anime. I will happily spend ten dollars on a Japanese comic book, and I will pay the money for a regular novel as well. The fantasy and sci-fi genres have been my bread and butter for years, and I have never seen a school year through without turning my notebooks into a landscape of doodles.  Mild insomnia and a love of long showers has given me hours to daydream every day. Indeed, I spend hours upon hours chasing the thoughts roving around my mind. I am, in short, a lover of escapism. I reject reality in favor of my own inventions and the fictional realities presented by others.

 

 

              Creativity is one part individual and one part chance. From the individual comes past experiences, intellectual knowledge, world view, theme, and the potential for an idea to become a completed reality. Chance is that which defines those who create from those who do not. Chance is the possibility of an idea hitting the person who can birth it. Where do ideas come from? They appear at odd moments, to receptive minds, careening like meteors into the fertile minds of would-be creators. What creator sits down and invents a world all their own without the intervention of a chance thought? Aren’t all ideas born through chance observation or a peculiar way of looking at the world, even if that peculiar view lasts for but a second? A second is all it takes.

 

 

              Characters grow like vines. They begin as a tiny seed of inspiration, nurtured by the creator. The creator waters the character with affection, feeds it with the creator’s careful consideration of what the character will be. The character’s seed sprouts, planting roots in the soul of the creator, and begins to grow. The roots sink deep into the creator, assimilating traits, experiences, habits, and memories. Fed on touches of reality, the character’s vines begin to extend out.  A history develops and then a future. A hometown and a family become apparent as do the friends both past and present. Layers build up as the character’s psychology begins to form. Suddenly, the character is not a two-dimensional cardboard cutout that the creator is making but is, rather, another person, another being whom the creator is meeting for the first time. The vines extend ever outward, growing leaves and flowers, developing thorns, spiraling and twisting into the convoluted mass of humanity. Character and creator pursue their acquaintanceship. They go for coffee, they discuss, they chat. The creator passes through her life, applying consciously or unconsciously her experiences to her character. A brief spat of fat rain falling on her car, for example, may lead to a momentous turning  point in her character’s life. But it is not that she has created that moment, it is that the fat rain has reminded her of a moment buried so far in her mind as to be previously unknown. In these ways, the character grows. Even as he is fitted into his story, he continues to grow. Indeed, he grows even past his tale’s completion, finishing his growth only when his creator  places him aside, in a closet of the mind.

              Characters are rooted in their creators. The two can share experiences, personality traits, habits, tastes and interests, even physical traits. Generally, characters think in a similar way to their creators.

 

 

Fuck you, world. Fuck you with a cactus up the asshole.

#writing archive #TrysKits work #prose #nonfiction #assignments #college applications #old writing #me #00s #2008 #Age 17

[smallbirdbigcoat]

not really <\3 most are just kind of odd occurrences like sometimes at night i'll hear footsteps in the (locked) attic, & sometimes (usually when i'm playing music on my speakers) i'll hear pebbles hitting my bedroom windows (they have bug screens on the outside so thats not really. possible ykwim). once i was using my dad's tube amp in the basement & it worked totally fine, light was on etc etc, & i went to unplug it and it wasn't plugged in. what are your top 10 favorite albums of all time? & how has your day been? today i give you one of my favorite “song with a bass solo” of all time: https://open.spotify.com/track/5QIbR39hAEDIOkr4ggh4xc -❄️

OMG I LOVE ATOMIC!!! its srlsly one of my favourite songs by one of my favourite bands and when you said "song with a bass solo" i immediately thought of it! thats so fun :)

i thought top 10 albums of all time would be easy but then i started overthinking it so to avoid that im just gonna go based on pure instinct (also these r in no particular order i just numbered them to keep count lmao)

1.disintegration - the cure. it is literally so perfect 2.the queen is dead - the smiths. bigmouth strikes again, cemetry gates, i know it's over, THERE IS A LIGHT THAT NEVER GOES OUT??? what an album. 3.remain in light - talking heads. i had a maths class over zoom during lockdown and the teacher was so boring that i just muted him and listened to this album for the first time ever and i fell in love w it instantly :) 4.ziggy stardust and the spiders from mars - david bowie. i'd love this album anyway but what makes it even better is the fact that my best friend also loves it to the point where david bowie is like our shared thing and moonage daydream is basically our theme song :)) 5.unknown pleasures - joy division. this was one of the first vinyls i ever bought (before i even had a working record player) and definitely one of the ones i play most. i have such fond memories of the day i bought it!! 6.in the aeroplane over the sea - neutral milk hotel. bought this at the same time as unknown pleasures and when i listened to it on vinyl for the first time i literally felt my soul leave my body. 7.london calling - the clash. the first time i heard this i thought it was so overrated then i listened to it again like a week later and i thought it was the greatest thing ever so idk what happened the first time 8.punisher - pheobe bridgers. i love this album so much and i am going to see pheobe bridgers at a festival in feb and im so excited :D 9.revolver - the beatles. i have such fond memories of listening to this album with my dad as a kid, and recently ive been obsessed w it again. also its just a classic! 10.the velvet underground & nico. i love this album's individual songs but its also such a great album to listen to as like a whole the progression of it is rly cool to me. i had to put some honorable mentions since it was so hard to narrow down: the dreaming by kate bush and power corruption and lies by new order :)) also i have had a pretty good day today, it's my first day of the summer holidays and i went to my friend's this morning n we basically just hung out and listened to music so its been a very chill day :) thanks for asking!

how was your day and what are your top 10 albums of all time???

#srs22

[sleepingwithinkink2-0]

Lost Log # 103 The Absurdity of Humans

I can't shake off the idea that there is no purpose. Staring at the stars as if they have the cure to insomnia, to the obscene questions of our existence hidden in hydrogen and helium . Perhaps I've already lost myself in the darkness picking at a loose thread from the sit cover of my car.. as if it was String Theory , trying to shake off a tumor that's lodged in my brain whispering obscured ideas that nothing matters in the great scheme of things.. Not at an astronomical level at least... Not outside the laws of time, a man made construct to keep us sane...

Albert Einstein once said “Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.”

Are we all insane trying to pretend we are sane?

In Nine to five job , five days a week loop

In a vivarium of flesh and bones..

It's absurd

That all it is

"the belief that human beings exist in a purposeless, chaotic universe."

What if the universe isn't chaotic. What if the existence of humans make the world seem chaotic.. You see other species con-exist without chaos..

So what creates chaos and insanity..Is it the ability of consciousness ?

We as humans we try to find reasoning and meaning in everything..a bowl of alphabet soup, a stranger prophesying our future, through cards and the lines of our palms ...We want to know that we aren't wasting our time ..

and oh how I've wasted it on cheap daydreams and fine wine..

Sitting in my car writing shitty serenades ..

Most people lead towards some form of religion, someone or thing to blame for their miss givings. A guide when they feel lost , to shake off the feeling of loneliness ..

.. And that's ok..

Some believe in Science and Math that the answers of life can be calculated and theorized as if numbers could unlock the truth where words failed to accomplish..

but I don't believe in anything not fully...

My mind is a war zone and everything and everyone in it has pieces of me..The man in the gas mask that pulls the trigger, the bullet that flies from the rifle at a velocity that tears clean through a man's throat ..I m the man that dies with his hands against his torn open jugular and the man beside him trying to fix what is already gone..

I don't know what to believe an infinite loop trying to understand my surroundings...the emotions that react with every reaction...

I want to believe things happen for a reason...but what's the big unveiling..The big reason for everything we do..

As I float here in a empty parking lot above the street lights I can't help but wonder if our lives are pre destine to fit societies standers .. another conundrum into itself..

My mind is constantly jumping from one idea to the next..

one parking lot to the next...

one couch to the next...

One loose string to the next..

Camus explains the meaning of life is that :

"Life is worth living and should be embraced as it is. While it is difficult to face meaninglessness without retreating into the loving arms of religion, science, society, or even producing meaning ourselves. He encourages us to bravely face the absurd with a smile on our face."

Perhaps there is no purpose why we exist, only simply because we do. Shouldn't that be enough?

What if our perspective plays a role in creating our reality...not give it meaning but a purpose in those moments that happen in the now... The only moments that truly matter..

We are so afraid of the unknown, that we dare not take that step...but what if that one step is the one step you need to take to feel free.. to be happy..

Our destine is already told in the stars.. we will die it's a promise that hasn't yet not been broken...

It's crazy I see people in relationships that aren't happy yet they stay...why

I see people doing jobs they hate ..why?

Why are we so afraid to be happy..

I m not stupid , but I don't know everything.

-Danny Sheehan

08.14.22

1:32am

#space cadet #space.com #lost log

[hoe-doroki]

On the Job pt. 2

minors do not interact

warnings: 18+, fuck or die sex pollen (which means there are noncon/dubcon elements), reader is a sex worker, masturbation, face fucking, temperature play, (light) pain play, biting

pairing: todoroki x fem!reader

wc: 3.4k

summary: Super human society has a secret. Aphrodisiac quirks aren’t just the things of porn and fantasy–they’re actually quite common and too often fall into the wrong hands. Heroes, of course, do the best that they can, but when they get hit, they must be taken off the line of duty and someone needs to be able to activate the quirk’s release condition. If they’re single, who might that someone be? Obviously, you.

a/n: Half of me didn’t actually think that I would follow up part one, but I feel a heavy obligation towards my fanfic promises so...this is a weight off my shoulders, lol.

edit: I no longer write x reader but here’s my old masterlist - mobile | desktop

You’d gotten the call early today.

Not early in the day—truth be told, you’d hardly known what time it was before picking up the phone. No, you got the call early. As in not last minute. The call saying that your client would have to be transported to the agency from on site and they could tell you the details in the meantime.

The call saying you’d better drive to the agency, because you had to service a hero in an hour.

Now, patience wasn’t usually your virtue of choice—actually you didn’t often tend towards virtues in general. Save perhaps for kindness, which you preferred to deal out on your knees or your back, augmented by praise and the generosity of offering all three of your holes for your clients’ needs. But you were happy to cultivate it today, because an early call meant one thing.

You knew who was coming today.

Your pants were already off and you shirt was pushed up over your breasts as you leisurely played with yourself. You’d licked the tips of your fingers and gotten them started with slow passes over your clit, the other hand pinching your nipple, just a little too hard in prep for a hero who’d probably give it to you rough.

Maybe your reaction wasn’t right. Maybe it wasn’t kind of you to be so relaxed—relaxed and eager, actually—over the news that it was possible that Pro Hero Shouto would die. That he’d been hit with the particularly high stakes brand of aphrodisiac quirk and that if you didn’t trigger the release condition—that was: hot and heavy sex—his heart may very well stop or whatever happened on the other side of these troublesome quirks.

You wouldn’t know. After all, you hadn’t lost a single client yet.

So perhaps that was cold of you. Perhaps it would be more virtuous for you to be worried about him, fretting on the other side of the door with the guards over his ETA.

Then again, as stated: you’d never been one for virtue. Sin was much more fun. And surely it was better to make sure that whenever Shouto did show up, you had a wet pussy that he could waste none of his precious time sinking his cock into.

You groaned at the thought, dipping two fingers from your clit into your cunt and scissoring them. Your head lolled back against the pillows, eyes fluttering closed as you pressed against that front wall the flats of your fingertips, feeling that soppy wetness covering you and beginning to drip down your knuckles.

Yeah, you were ready for him.

In fact, you’d been waiting for Shouto longer than just today. After nabbing the number two pro hero, Dynamight, a few months back, you’d gone ahead and debased yourself  further—how much further was there to go, though, really?—by creating a list of your dream clients. You’d written Dynamight just to check him off, the memory of him cumming in you raw and licking you clean still hot between your thighs.

Your near encyclopedic knowledge of heroes—naturally, you took a healthy interest in your job—had then led you to daydream about Dynamight’s whole hero cohort. You added Red Riot to the list, dreaming of his abs, imagining riding them, teasing sweet whines out of him before backing up and dropping yourself on his cock. You thought of Deku, what it would mean for your ego to nab the number one hero, the flash of jealousy that would rise on his face when you let it slip that you’d already fucked his biggest rival, fucked his goddamn brains out and yours to boot.

Of course, you couldn’t do that. NDAs, after all. You’d already signed away your rights to mentioning anything about what happened to or with Shouto today. Still, you could dream.

Then, of course, your thinking had truly devolved, and you’d thought about the boys being paired up, fighting a villain with an unknown quirk only to be hit by the ever common, ever unknown—thanks to you and your prudence; oops, there was another virtue—aphrodisiac quirk and having to take care of both of them. Spit-roassting, Eiffel Tower, a goddamn daisy chain—anything. Long story short, you’d ended up cumming twice more on your hands before the evening was done.

But also on that list, was Shouto Todoroki.

Who, if you weren’t mistaken, was now on the other side of the door.

After all, these walls weren’t soundproof. It provided quite the show for the lucky guards on the other side, but hey, if you needed to scream for help, they had to be there. By the same coin, you could hear the shuffling on the other side, the footsteps approaching, and the telltale sound of the lock on the door being activated. You pressed your legs together, resting them to the side, hiding your glistening pussy artfully with your legs for the sake of modesty. Everyone knew what was happening here, but you didn’t need to send Shouto’s poor handler back blushing to their colleagues.

Shouto was ushered into the room and, without eye contact, someone yelled to you, “Ready, ma’am?”

“Ready!” you called back, and the door was closed, leaving you alone with the number three hero.

Without modesty, your legs fell open, revealing the mess you’d already made of yourself to Shouto. You dipped the fingers you’d been using into your mouth, and cleaned them dutifully. After all Shouto was still wearing his costume, and you did so hate the agency having to send those to the cleaners with your fluids all over them.

“Hey, bud,” you purred, running a hand slowly up one thigh. “I heard you have a problem.”

Pro Hero Shouto was known for his stoic personality. News conferences and interviews he participated in always consisted of a slow, even tone, and little beyond cold facts. There was something pleasantly mysterious about that, sure, but it didn’t exactly hint that he’d be quick to jump into bed. Sexy voice, though.

But whatever quirk he’d been hit with must have been strong, because the next thing you knew, the index finger from his left hand was tracing down the front of his uniform, cleanly burning a line straight to his already tented crotch. His accessories had already been taken off—his belt, gloves, shoes, even the clasp at his neck had been undone earlier. So there was nothing in his way as he pulled either side of his scorched uniform to the side and off his arms as he approached the bed.

“All business, huh?” you asked, pushing yourself up off your pillows by your forearms, watching as Shouto climbed onto the bed on his knees, finally pulling his jumpsuit down past his crotch.

You’d taken a bet with yourself on the color of his pubes—it’s not like you’d be losing either way if you got to see them. They turned out to be dual-colored, but not the stark red and white of his hair. No, they were more neutral in tone, like yours. Unlike yours, they were nested above a heavy cock, already shining with precum—or actual cum, you didn’t know—at the head.

Shouto didn’t reply to your comment, and you weren’t surprised. Some people went totally nonverbal when hit by sex pollen quirks, and that was fine. You’d rather someone button their lip than ruin the mood by saying something off, after all. All business was fine by you—this was your job, after all. And no matter the size of his mouth, his cock was just fucking right.

You naturally lowered your legs as Shouto began kneeing over you, cock in hand. Your brain only just managed to catch up to what was going on when his legs stopped on either side of your ribs, his leaking cockhead crossing your eyes before you. Automatically, your jaw dropped open, and Shouto’s cock smeared pre against your cheek and the corner of your mouth before sinking deep into your mouth, drawing a first obscene moan out of him.

A humming moan fell out of you too, barely able to take in the taste of Shouto’s cock before it was pressing against the back of your throat, springing tears to your eyes automatically. Something about aphrodisiac quirks so often seemed to play with the taste of these heroes’ cum. No longer was it bitter, but just heady, salty, and more pleasant than it should have been as it coated your tongue and throat. You adored it, and purposefully relaxed your muscles so that you could take more of him in.

Shouto didn’t hold back. With barely half a breath in your lungs, Shouto was thrusting deep in the back of your throat so that your spit dripped from your mouth and smacked wetly between his balls and your chin. You blinked tears out of your eyes and looked up at him to find blown pupils staring back at you, gaze hot and pointed.

There was light behind those eyes. Whatever Shouto was right now, it wasn’t unthinking, not pure instinct. No, the way he was fucking your throat, the way his eyes had you pinned—it was intentional.

Abruptly, Shouto pulled out, a think strand of spit snapping from his dick, cold on your tongue as you panted from the rough treatment. You held your mouth open, expecting him to shove back in once you’d caught your breath, but Shouto seemed to have other plans. He moved down your body, soaked cock again in his palm, and his eyes now set on your pussy. You reached for one of the condoms you’d set out next to you, and held it in front of him.

“Hate to sound like an after-school special, but no glove…”

Shouto paused, eyeing you for just a moment before taking the square and making quick work of it, rolling it over himself.

Then, abruptly, he put a hand on your cheek, drawing your eyes back up to his. “Thank you for your hard work. It does not go unappreciated.”

“What the—”

You were left agog at his statement, wholly unprepared as he swiftly took each of your thighs in one hand, spread them, and plunged in you to the hilt. You gasped high in your chest, your throat still tender from being rawed by Shouto’s dick. He leaned over you, sighing with a relief that doubled then halved the size of his chest. His forehead touched yours in a strange moment of intimacy, and, for a moment, you wondered if that was it. Was that all the release condition took? Penetration? Or had he cum and you just hadn’t noticed?

Were you going to be left to tend to yourself with the bullet vibrator in your glove compartment yet again?

Then Shouto leaned back, looked at you again with those sharp eyes, and began smacking into you with abandon.

“Fuck,” you let out as Shouto’s balls, still wet with your spit, left their mark on your ass with every deep thrust he gave you.

Shouto manhandled your thighs, grabbing them firmly in each hand as he reared back fully on his knees again, taking the lower half of your body with him. You reflexively braced with your arms, and soon they were the only part of you still in contact with the bed, along with your upper back and head still resting on the comfortable stack of pillows.

As was often the case, you’d lost control of the situation. You could barely match Shouto’s thrusts on your own as he repeatedly used his upper body strength to bring you to him, and his lower body strength to send his hips right back in return. If you tried to reach him, your fingertips would barely brush his thighs, much less any other part of him. You were totally at his mercy.

You couldn’t help but eyeball his broad biceps, flexed by holding up the weight of most of your body. And aside from the sweat dripping from his forehead—probably quirk-induced—he was showing little to no strain.

He hadn’t always had muscles like this, you were sure. You couldn’t help but remember pundits sounding off on Shouto’s overreliance on his quirk over physical strength, or the difference between his body and the massive tank that was his father, Endeavor. They’d shown clips of his body—handsome, always handsome—but either Shouto had done a lot of bulking in the last few years or those newscasters had been particularly unkind. Likely both. Because now, drops of sweat were trickling from his body in rivulets; there were no straight paths to go down. A bulging muscle here to dip around, the crease from a flexed ab there to pool in. You were hypnotized by his form, even the thighs straining under the part of his uniform that he hadn’t bothered to burn off.

Your mind was so enraptured by thoughts of Shouto’s body that the sensations happening to yours crept up on you. All at once, you realized that your thighs were burning. Actually, one was burning, and the other was freezing cold, both just under his palms and branching up the fingers currently painting five bruises into each muscle.

A gasp flew out of your mouth and your eyes rolled back as your thighs suddenly began quaking unbidden. Shouto looked down at you, his expression easy save for those passionate eyes, little huffs escaping his slack jaw. “Too much?” he asked.

Your head shook side to side, a vehement no as Shouto dug his fingers even deeper into your flesh, bringing dull throbs of pain so close to where every thrust brought about sharp flashes of pleasure. It felt like a betrayal when he just then loosened his grip to slide his hands up to your knees and hook them over his shoulder. Then those hands, right at the brink of freezing and searing pressed into the meat of your ass as he brought your hips to his with redoubled force.

That first new thrust sent Shouto’s head turning to the side, digging a painful bite into the fleshy part of your calf, making you cry out. A moment later, he let go, his tongue passing over the teeth marks like a salve over a wound.

All the dueling sensations had you close. You’d been teasing yourself for so long before Shouto had even shown up and now he was fucking into you like…well, like his life depended on it.

God, was it wrong to love fuck or die quirks?

You were quick to take a hand and put it back on your aching clit, despite the strain it put on your neck and upper back to lose one arm of support. Part of a good fucking was being folded like a pretzel, and you’d just book a massage appointment tomorrow to deal with it. Surely saving the life of the number three hero was worth a reward.

Shouto’s eyes honed in on your fingers moving rapidly over your clit, and you bet he could feel the twitches of your cunt approaching climax. A hand left your ass and went behind his head to pat your ankles. “Cross them,” he instructed.

Obediently, you crossed your ankles, making your position a bit sturdier as Shouto continued to drive you back onto him with one hand. Then that second hand went to yours, brushing it away with the backs of his knuckles. A surprisingly gentle gesture for the man who was kneading bruises into your ass and biting your leg. Then, with his thumb, he painted one slow, hard, blazing stripe up your clit, and you came instantly.

“Fuck!” you shouted as your back arched in midair, the crown of your head digging into the pillows as your neatly crossed ankles came undone, your thighs shaking and falling from Shouto’s grip. His cock slid out of you as your lower half bounced once on the bed. Before the springs could vault you back, Shouto was on top of you, pressing himself back in your still convulsing cunt.

His thrusts were long, desperate as he breathed into your neck. He mouthed the base of your neck with light bites and suckles—never quite kissing. Your thighs came back up around his hips and his left hand went back to squeezing your thigh. Meanwhile, the right came between your thighs, surprising you as two fingers began prodding at your entrance.

Almost immediately, you could feel the heat of the stretch. Or rather, you would have felt the heat of the stretch, had his fingers not been ice cold against you. You cried out as he curled his fingers forward while his cock kept thrusting straight through you, the hot and cold contrast nearly too much. You wondered how much more intense it would feel if Shouto were unbound by the condom, and you able to bear its full heat.

“Please,” you whimpered as your orgasm began to rise again, too quickly, nearly as sudden as the first one had been, but without all the build up. This one felt like it was going to tear out of you.

Just then, the nips that Shouto had been teasing over your neck went away, and he planted one more good bite on your shoulder as his thrusts became insistent, the fingers petting inside you matched with a cold thumb over your clit. And neither of you could hold on a moment longer.

Shouto groaned low and bone deep in your ear while your voice, still raspy from early, keened in his. Your thighs went tight around his waist and his hand was trapped between you as you both rode out your highs. It took a full minute for your muscles to unwind, and your feet to fall flat to the bed. At that point, Shouto pulled out and rolled over next to you, both of you panting as the sweat dried on your skin.

Shouto pulled the condom off of himself and found a trashcan to toss it into before falling flat on his back again. After a few moments of nothing but heavy breathing, he opened his mouth. “Thank you for your professionalism.”

You snorted. “You’re welcome,” you managed, keeping your laughter at bay. “That’s not what people usually thank me for.”

“Thank you for saving my life?” Shouto tried again, his gaze shifting over to you.

His eyes were still bright, but his gaze less sharp, obscured by dual-colored bangs falling over it. Suddenly, Shouto looked a great deal more innocent than the man who’d been fucking the life out of you just minutes ago. Perhaps an effect of the quirk wearing off, perhaps the effect of unfettered pleasure meeting relief.

“More common, yes,” you replied, unable to keep the smile off your face.

“You’re very good at what you do,” Shouto said, his eyes going to the spot where he’d bitten your shoulder. He circled it with one finger, brows furrowing. “You’re like a hero.”

“Hah,” you returned, looking up at the ceiling. You weren’t going to let this be the moment in your career that made you blush. “Vixen, the orgasm hero. I don’t think it would meet the commission’s guidelines.”

“Perhaps not,” Shouto said, sitting up and pulling up what remained of his costume, frowning at the spot where he’d torn it. You supposed you needn’t have worried about this costume going to the cleaners; the support team would likely toss it and make a replacement.

“There are clothes you can change into in the closet,” you said, pointing to the near invisible door in the back wall.

Shouto waved you away as he stood up. “This will be fine to make it to the locker room with.”

“Suit yourself,” you said as you pushed yourself up, trying to remember where you’d thrown your leggings before you’d started jerking of, grunting as your spine cracked.

Shouto plucked the leggings from near the foot of the bed and tossed them to you before heading towards the door. With his hand on the knob, he turned back and made eye contact with you one last time, the ghost of a smile you’d never seen before on his lips. “Thanks again…Vixen.”

As he closed the door, you could only blame your own impropriety, that utter lack of virtue that you first thought was:

Number two pro hero, Shouto: check.

#todoroki smut #bnha smut #mha smut #shouto todoroki smut #shoto todoroki smut #tw: sex work #tw: sex pollen #tw: masochism #tw: pain play #tw: dubcon #tw: biting #tw: temperature play

[dolliedarlin]

Hi I’m one of the anons who’s obsessing over the P.A series!!!!! For some reason my brain has been full w diff things that could happen IDKKK! Hope u don’t mind if I dump a few....

TW: this is A bunch of rambling and some grammar errors LMAO sorry

Idk y I c y/n having a stalker💀 this prob sounds rlly weird but hear me out. (To add drama, also I Lowkey wanna c Mina,Sero and kiri get mad idk y-)

Since we all know y/n is the baddest most sophisticated b*tch (sorry idk if I’m allowed to cuss or not LMAO) her Ex lover is still obsessed w her and thinks that they are soulmate even tho they obv aren’t. I feel like y/n knows he stalks her but she ignores it until it gets worst. Like he found out where she lives. (He finds out where she lives while she’s sick which is now loll)

Anyways I feel like Mina would be over at y/ns place and since she’s getting better they are In her living room talking abt who knows what and y/n gets a knock on her door she goes to open it and admittedly closes it looking shocked. Mina being a pro hero is  supposed to be able to read body language. Mina ask her if everything is Alr and y/n OFC (stupid a**) says yes. Mina didn’t want to keep pressing the issue so she dropped it until it became a reoccurring thing with y/n and it’s not just her that noticed. She (y/n) is extremely hesitant to open the door and when she does she opens it a little bit. (And then idk her EX does crazy like breaks into her apt and scares the sh** outa y/n) THIS IS WHERE MY BIG IDEA STOPS 😭😭😭😭😭😭 that was a lotta rambling my apologies

Have a great day dollie!

oh no! please don’t feel bad, it’s always fun for me seeing what you dolls would want to happen next

although i don’t plan on bringing any psycho exes into ‘the p.a’ series, as a writer and an avid daydreamer, i can’t help but play around with this idea 

warning: there are brief mentions of violence ; this is not a part of ‘the p.a’ series but is just a little thought that i just couldn’t help but try my own hand at also ; i didn’t edit this either 😂 so kindly forgive any grammatical/spelling mistakes 

continuing on from your idea...

⏤mina, having the sneaking suspicion that something bad might happen to you that night, notifies the rest of the group later on that day

⏤usually, bakugou was in charge of you during the night and always sat in a chair beside your bed on high alert, ready to serve your every need...

⏤BUT!

⏤now that mina told them about your suspicious behaviour, all of them were put on high alert. 

⏤they all agreed to keep you unaware of their intentions by having bakugou take care of you like usual but they made sure that when on the night patrol, they were close by with their radios on and constantly being hyper aware of the shortest route to your residence from wherever they were situated - just in case of an emergency 

⏤naturally, they trusted bakugou with keeping you safe but that didn’t mean that they had no worries for you at all 

⏤seeing as you usually feel asleep before bakugou switched with the sero, who took care of you in the late evening, you were under the impression that you were alone at home 

⏤your current condition disallowed you from comfortably staying awake so you were constantly tossing and turning in bed, brows furrowed and sweating more than usual

⏤”what is she dreaming about?” bakugou utters in frustration as he continues to wipe away the vastly accumulating sweat rom your wrinkled brows

⏤he wasn’t frustrated at you no no, he was annoyed at the fact that he couldn’t make you comfortable no matter how many wet towels he uses to cook your forehead or wipe your sweat clean off your skin 

⏤as the night progresses, you eventually fall into a dreamless sleep, far too exhausted to continue stressing over your ex with the added burden of your fever on your body

⏤nevertheless, bakugou continues being on high alert at all times except for when he momentarily leaves to room so as to go to the toilet 

⏤this was the perfect opportunity for your crazy ex to sneak into your room via the window bakugou left ajar so as to help cool you down better 

⏤your ex was a creepy and disgusting man - someone that you had grown to dislike the more you got to know him and naturally left as quickly as you were able to 

⏤what followed was harassment to the highest degree, thankfully you were able to protect yourself due to your self defence training and quirk, however, it didn’t take away the shuddering feeling of being watched constantly

⏤you grew paranoid and extremely fidgety over time and eventually filled for a restraining order. unfortunately, that didn’t work and left you to deal with the situation yourself

⏤you were naive enough to think that you had shaken him after a particularly horrible beating he took from you in self defence. he had come at you with a knife but you were able to disarm him and send him limping home with a dislocated arm, a black eye and a bruised ribcage 

⏤over time, you got busy with work and slowly forgot about him, it wasn’t until today that you were reminded of his crazy obsession with you and were thrown into a panic 

⏤believing that you were alone at night and in your most vulnerable state, you didn’t feel safe and sought to deal with the situation however you could, even in your dreams

⏤all attempts were in vain, however

⏤bakugou, returning from his momentary break to the toilet came back just in time to see your creepy ex hovering over your sleeping figure. as if you sensed the unpleasant existence stalking you, your body stiffened under the blankets and you began to breathe uncomfortably, beginning to sweat bucket-fulls once more

⏤not wanting to disturb your sleep as rest was the top priority for you, bakugou crept up from behind the unknown figure and instantly went for his neck, choking him into silence as he dragged his thrashing figure outside, far away from you all the while sending a emergency signal to the rest of the squad 

⏤in no time at all, the rest of the squad arrived and had your crazy ex cornered. at this time he had already been tied up by bakugou and was ready for a quick chat 

⏤”what the hell were you doing with our yn?” kirishima began, sharp teeth grinding together as he clenched his jaw 

⏤silence 

⏤”speak up, we can’t fucking hear you,” bakugou spat as the others glared on from beside him, their eyes piercing through the moonlight and darkness of the night 

⏤”y-yn isn’t yours - that’s the first thing,” your ex finally cracked, giggling creepily in between 

⏤”you’re right,” sero began, “yn doesn’t belong to anyone so why were did you break into her house,” it took everything in sero not to lash out but they needed answers

⏤”wrong again!” your ex sang, “she doesn’t belong to you, she belongs to me! i’m her boyfriend!”

⏤”yn doesn’t have a boyfriend,” kaminari spoke up

⏤”that’s right! and if she did, we would have known,” mina agreed

⏤“that’s because she doesn’t know it yet, we broke up but we’ll get back together again soon” the tied up man giggled to himself, “it’s only a matter of time before she realises her mistake and she comes back to me,” 

⏤the team of heroes didn’t know what to say, they were so shocked and appalled at what they were seeing and hearing that they couldn’t bring themselves to utter a single word of response, they only listened further

⏤”i hoped she’d come back soon, anyway...but i was getting impatient so i had to try and convince her a little more. she’s been ignoring my love for her all this time, she can’t continue rejecting me for long...” he laughs, “i bet she misses it”

⏤“miss what...?” bakugou didn’t want to know but it had to be said

⏤”i bet she misses being with me. she’s so beautiful and so soft to the touch, she always smells good too and she has such a lovely voice - i want her all to myself, she doesn’t deserve to be anybody else’s”

⏤it was then that the team of heroes just about lost their minds. the creep before them didn’t say anything explicit but the madness in his eyes and the harrowing smile he was displaying was off putting. they dread to imagine what a lowlife nasty sob like him put you through but they saw flashes of unforgivable scenes that sent all of them into insanity 

⏤someone so precious to them didn’t deserve any such treatment. you may not have disclosed anything to them strict on being professional but if this man was willing to break into your house...they were fearful to think about what else he was capable of

⏤he deserved a beating from that act alone, actually, and a beating he got

⏤they could’ve killed the guy - they were more than tempted to and it would have been so easy...but he deserved to suffer in jail for his crimes against you so they held back no matter how painful that was for them 

⏤the very next day, under their authority and recommendation, the man was locked up for as many years as they could tally up and seeing as they were heroes, they were able to look into his past documentations and found you had filed a restraining order for him under harassment, assault and a number of other things they grew all the more furious at the more the read

⏤they would prefer it if you didn’t realise what they did that night but the media couldn’t let the story of 5 high class pro heroes sending a singular, beaten man to jail for life

⏤your creepy ex’s battered photos were all over the news and you were so incredibly grateful  

#love; dollie #precious anon #not part of the pa series #just a little imagining #this was fun