#i desperately wish i had jumped online earlier to catch the early days of the fandom

[sunbun-fnaf]

literally this. like. straight up. im having such a hard time dealing with this? im my head this is the only way to ever be a part of a fandom and it SUCKS. I get stressed that im not producing art quickly enough. I get sad that i havent gotten any progress done on my fic. I get worried that if I am not active all the time I simply will get nowhere. Is some of that due to my clout hungry brain? yes, but like, this is the only time ive ever been... close, to the fnaf fandom. I want to be close to people and I want people to be close to me. And in the digital age it feels like I can only do this if im constantly posting art, constantly working on my fics, constantly putting... something out, so people will interact with me. and it SUCKS SO MUCH. LIKE. HOW DID IT GET LIKE THIS. WHERES MY SPACE WHERE I CAN TALK ABOUT SILLY LITTLE THINGS WITH OTHER PEOPLE WHO LIKE THE SAME SILLY LITTLE THINGS I DO :[

Said this to a dear and much-loved friend today, but I think maybe we all might need to see it:

Long-fic is not the rent you pay to be a part of fandom.

Fic, full-stop, is not the rent you pay to be a part of fandom.

Art is not the rent you pay to be a part of fandom.

Constantly creating is not the rent you pay to be a part of fandom.

Fandom is a community, not a corporation, your productivity is not a payment you have to make to be here.

[erensproudsimp]

Chef D'œuvre

Jean kirstein x Reader

⚠ Sexual Content Ahead ⚠

Content Warnings:Fluff, Sex on a canvas, established relationship, teasing Jean hehe, dirty talk, ultimate smut + this isn't proofread

Summary: Restraining Jean from touching you the whole day, a candle light dinner in the evening leading to sex on a canvas? The idea of Jean as an artist is just so hot.

Word count:4.1k

Fanart is by artworkbyzuli on insta

Cross-posted on ao3

Colorful tainted tiles, the smell of fresh paint hovering in the air, early hours of sunshine filtering from the beige curtains to fall on his face highlighting his features as his eyes concentrated on the canvas. Blanc frames waiting to be hued with a meaning or not. Teeth clenching, his jawline apparent, he looked like a Greek God, his brush being his weapon, almost out of this world. Shirt glued on his body like a second skin layer bringing out his honed muscled body, Jean truly was a work of art spreading his magnificence on cloth and paper. Standing by the door frame in his shirt two times bigger than your figure, you admired your boyfriend, his back facing you, drowned in his own world of aesthetic in his studio.

Tiptoeing to him, you wrapped your arms around his torso, your cheek pressed on his back catching him off-guard. You took a quick whiff of him. Sandalwood with a faint citrus.

"Woah there, good morning baby, did you have a good night sleep?" Jean's hoarse voice almost made your legs lose their balance. His free hand caressing your arms, you hummed as a simple yes still intoxicated by his scent.

"I'm going to go prepare breakfast, I'll call for you when I'm done." Jean gave you a quick forehead kiss before you left the room.

Cracking some eggs in the pan, you connected your phone to the speaker in the house to play some music while you proceeded to put fruits in the blender to make smoothies. Swaying your body to the music at the same time lip-syncing to the words, you spread butter on slices of bread unaware of Jean's presence behind you. The man crossed his arms, leaning on the wall he admired your actions which were nothing but alluring to him.

What made it even more hot to him was the fact that you were wearing his shirt. At first in the studio, he didn't realise but now that he noticed, he couldn't help but smirk to himself. He took in the way his shirt was practically floating on you, the flashbacks of last night suddenly raced through his mind. The way you were moaning his name, grabbing the sheets tightly as you let him take control of you made him take a deep breath before he approached you.

Now it was his turn to return you the hug from earlier. Surprised by him, he didn't leave you a second to react to his abrupt act of affection, he moved your hair to the side to plant a kiss on your neck making you shiver. His arms tightened around you just as his kisses went deeper all through your neck.

"y/n," his hot breath unsteady.

"Je-Jean, the eggs are gonna burn," you breathed.

"The only thing burning right now is my urge to fuck you right on this counter," Jean whispered in your ear almost making you lose your thinking pattern.

"Jean, I'm serious," you tried to wingle from his grasp to save your omelettes and placed them on two separate plates.

Jean looked at you disappointedly as though a puppy who had just lost its toy.

"Aww don't look at me like that, gimme a kiss, come on," you opened your arms, encouraging him to come to you.

Gladly he did and locked his lips in an instant.

"Jump," Jean demanded in between the makeout and you, of course, obeyed.

Your legs around his hips, sloppy lips fighting for dominance, Jean pressed your ass on the kitchen island. His arms snaking up and down your thighs, giving them a light squeeze here and there.

"Your legs are pretty, but they would be prettier on my shoulders hmm," his voice laced with a passion so hot like molten lava.

Your insides now ignited with flame, you pushed your hips into his by closing in your legs wrapped around him. Hard. Mischievousness coursed through your mind as you wanted to tease him for making you flushed.

"Want my legs over you? well catch them if you can," with that said, you jumped off the kitchen island freeing yourself from his clutches to run away from him.

"Hey! Get back here! I'm not done with you! " Jean called after you, laughing as he chased you down the corridors. A soft genuine laugh emitting from him when you threw pillows from the sofas at him to halt his movements only for him to catch the items and throw it back at you like a snowball fight.

A grin plastered on your face when you finally got tired of the running and collapsed on the floor with Jean kneeling beside you equally euphoric. The happiness was mainly because he felt so much at peace seeing your smile.

"Got ya," he breathed from exhaustion, encircling his arms around your waist and pulling you close so that he could rest his chin on your shoulder.

"You're so warm," Jean nuzzled his nose into your neck.

"Speaking of warmth, our food's getting cold in the kitchen, hurry up we need to eat," you mentioned.

"The only thing I want to eat right now is you-" you cut him off with your index finger pressed on his soft lips.

"Jean, I swear to god, let's go," you pushed him from back because he was trying to grab your ass, however, you receded.

"Your hands were so small on my back, but I'd prefer them jerking my dic-" again you shut him up by shoving toast bread in his mouth to save you from further embarrassment.

"Y/n baby, I need you so bad right now," he said swallowing that bread hard as your eyes widen.

From the look in his eyes, you could tell that this man was sexually frustrated, certainly because of your actions earlier but you didn't expect him to be so thirsty.

For a brief moment, a thought came up to you, basically telling you to refuse his current wishes to make him further agitated just so that you ravish the feeling of him taking the pent-up anger out harder on you later. Perfect plan, you internally agreed to yourself.

"Oh you need me badly? How about you show me that at night, okay?"a light smirk stretching the corner of your mouth.

" Y/n, I need you now, like right now, I can't wait till night or anything," Jean whined. How cute.

"Aww, you're that desperate baby? You can't hold yourself back? I thought you were tougher than this,"you cooed.

" Y/n, I can see damn well what you're trying to do, so stop messing with me please, "Jean reached out to grab your face only for you to pull back. Not going to lie that did hurt you when you saw the disappointed look on his face, yet, oddly that made you feel and realise the control you had over him and goddamn this felt good.

"Okay then, how about a little bit of challenge for you? If you manage to keep your hands off me the entire day and that includes any sort of contact, I'll make a surprise for you tonight as a reward. And if you lose then no sex for you until the next day baby. Deal?"

"Now that's going to be hard as hell but your surprises never fail to entertain me so deal."

"That was quick of you," you commented shaking his hand as a way of signing the contract.

"I just know that you're going to do something remarkable that will blow my mind so I'm simply looking forward to it."

His hopes were ridiculously high for the reward and luckily you already had something in mind for tonight.

After breakfast, Jean wasted no time to rush into his studio to keep you out of his sight. That was going to be a little too easy for him to win in this way. Not that you didn't want him to win, you couldn't help but want to push him to his limits. While you were scavenging your mind for the perfect way to catch him off guard, you heard a knock at the door. Outside was the postman with a package which seemed to be a delivery of one of the various things you kept buying online.

Taking the parcel inside, you opened it to find something that made you smiled evilly. It was a black transparent two pieces lingerie with lace straps. Not a second was wasted for you to change into that. To hide your plans, you wore a bathrobe and tiptoed to the studio.

Inside, Jean clearly concentrated on drawing when you creaked open the door, his attention now on you.

"Y/n why are you wearing a bathrobe in the middle of the da- oh-"

Right at that moment, you removed the robe letting it fall to your feet to unveil the marvel that was hidden inside of it.

Jean's breath hitched in his throat.

"You have no idea how badly I want to scream right now,"his pencil falling out of his hand, he covered his face with his hand and took a step back from you. He rubbed his temples as he inhaled deeply.

"Fuck y/n, why are you doing this to me?"he looked at you from up to down as though he was eating you up with his eyes, capturing every inch of what he's seeing and burning it into his memory.

"Do you like what you see?" your hands on your hips as you leaned on the wall.

"You have no idea."

You chucked and approached him slowly.

"If only I could touch you right now, you have no idea of what I'd do to you," Jean put his hands into the pockets of his pants to try to contain himself from not jumping on you like a hungry wolf who hasn't eaten in weeks.

Clacking your black heels on the cold tiles, your hands meticulously moving on your hips, you diminished the distance between you two. One foot difference. Jean licked his teeth from inside closed mouth and opened it slightly to let out hot breath, sustaining the proximity but you could see the intensity in his eyes.

"I can't stop staring, please y/n, "

"Where's the fun in that? I wanted to see you all hopeless for me and you're doing a pretty good job resisting," your finger pointing at his growing bulge.

Blowing air from his mouth, his hands on his hips, he walked to and fro.

"Is this the surprise you were telling me about in the morning?"

"Of course not, the surprise is bigger than this. I just wanted to give you a little sneak peak thought since I love you so much and don't want to kill you with a heart attack," you giggled twirling a strand of your hair. His eyes went big.

"If that's the case, you better prepare yourself for tonight because you seriously don't know what I'm going to do to you," Jean licked his lips.

"Can't wait," you blew him a kiss while you strolled out of the room, his eyes still fixated on the lingerie.

Not only did what happened turned you on, but it also motivated you to start the preparations for Jean to wreck you till you couldn't walk. Changing into pajamas for comfort, you took out scented candles of your preference and placed them on the nightstands and dressing table in the bedroom.

Jean's POV

'What the hell was y/n even thinking pulling that move on me? '

Sighing deeply I looked at my boner.

"Now what am I going to do of you? Jerk off to the memory of y/n in that black lingerie?"

On second thought, that doesn't sound bad, except for the fact that he was in an art studio.

Gosh, was he not turned when he first saw you in that. The way the cloth surrounded your soft breasts, decorating them to be perhaps the most flawless thing he'd ever seen or the way your stance screamed if confidence. He couldn't decide which of them were hotter.

The little ribbons on the strap did nothing but make you more erotic. How did you even manage to look that good, is a mystery that he will never discover.

"I really got the best of the best for me huh," Jean smiled to himself.

His art failed in front of you. Null and void. In his eyes you were the definition of what a beauty goddess was, hence proving that beauty indeed lied in the eyes of the beholder. Despite your imperfections which nonetheless still made you impeccable, Jean always attempted in copying your sublimity yet in vain.

Without a doubt, you were the best Muse he's ever had in his life. One day hoping that he would finally do you justice and be able to recreate his image of you in his mind on cloth, Jean kept trying albeit failing each time. However, he would absolutely never give up.

Collecting himself from the recent impact, he picked up his pencil from the ground and as much as he wanted to concentrate on his drawing of you, he couldn't prevent himself from picturing you from back then. You were beyond gorgeous. Maybe, that exactly was the inspiration he needed.

"I need to take a bath," Jean said to himself. Luckily there were two bathrooms in the house, as he wouldn't want to interrupt you while you were busy making whatever surprise.

To be honest, Jean was as impatient as you and full on ready to be taken by surprise by you.

Your POV

"Okay I've cleaned the room spotless, scented it, changed the sheets of the bed, took out towels and now time to bring the big thing,"you checked off everything on your mentally made-up list before you could continue.

Rushing to the wardrobe, you took out the art supplies required for the sex painting. Canva isn't the comfiest option for sex but you knew that it will all be worth the work at the end.

You honestly couldn't wait to see Jean's reaction to this.

Since the mattress can get a little colorful, you didn't want to run the risk of ruining the bedding either, you rather placed the sheet of canva on the carpeted floor that was still easy to the body. Laying down a cloth, that you taped so that it wouldn't dislocated when things get moving, on top of which you placed the canva and towels around it as well as a trail of towels towards the bathroom so that clean up of the post-art would be rendered easier.

"Okay now that everything is settled, let's go take a bath and prep myself up," you muttered to yourself, locking the door from the inside so that Jean wouldn't accidentally enter it.

-Time skip-

A private dinner in your dwelling makes for an magical evening. Silk sheet on the table, napkins neatly pleated on the white plates surrounded by tableware. Incorporating flower petals, slow romantic harmonious music, and low lighting to create the right atmosphere you as well added string lights for an added touch of enchantment. Aphrodisiac food was the obvious choice, you thought, placing down the lobster in the middle. Wine in glasses twinkling to the fairy lights for a further sizzle.

Not long until Jean made his appearance in a suit, top buttons of his shirt loose while you were in a black dress lighting the scented candles.

"Hey babe," his throaty voice called.

Turning around, you saw him, his hands in his pockets walking towards you. His large body towering yours.

"You look hot," he complimented looking down on you.

"So do you," you giggled bopping his nose.

Pulling a chair, Jean signaled you to sit as he pushed the chair then going to his seat facing you.

The empty wine glasses were delicately filled with the red alcohol, each of you raising your goblet for a cheers.

" Cheers to my pretty boyfriend."

"Cheers to my future wife," Jean smirked as you were busy turning fifty shades of red.

In comfortable silence, except for the clinking of utensils, both of you ate.

"Main course is done for, now time for dessert, "he said standing from his chair to yours. Lift you off the ground swiftly, he walked you to the bedroom in bridal style.

"huh? HUH? Jean what are you doing?"

"Taking my dessert to eat, what else?" he replied kissing you. His kiss was a fever. Hot. Sluggish.

Opening the door to disclose the surprise, his eyes went wide until it hit him. The canva and towels on the ground, paint orderly laid on the bed.

"I was thinking the house needed some more decorations, so why not spice things up by creating this masterpiece and hanging it in the living room for everyone to see? " innocently you smiled at him.

"Hahaha y/n! You're amazing!" rosy cheeks, eyes twinkling with admiration and affection he twirled your body in air, "wait then that means that the whole day you preventing me from touching you was pointless," his expression now slightly frowned.

"I mean, yeah, I mean, I just wanted to see you desperate for me," you fumbled with your words.

"Bad girl. After this I will have to punish you for making me suffer for nothing," Jean put you down.

You didn't know whether to feel anticipation or fear knowing that this man was going to wreck you.

"Why are you acting coy all of a sudden? Weren't you the one to act like a whore? " with the cockiest smirk ever Jean said.

His hands previously placed gently on your hips began to tighten. The press only fueled your rapid beating of your heart. Tilting your head towards his face by lifting it with one finger on your chin, he locked eye contact with you.

Lust filled his irises. Skilfully, he unzipped your dress and pulled it off your skin. Skin that desired to be touched so badly. Skin that burned under his fingertips that grazed the surface. Under the clothes exposed the black lingerie that got Jean worked up since morning.

Even though he already saw you in it, it nevertheless felt like the first time. The same adoration that held his gape seemed to be worshiping your body.

"May I take your bra off? " Jean asked. You nodded, Jean elatedly removed it.

"Look at these perfect tits. Belonging and made only for me," cupping them in his hands, he growled against your neck.

Your mind going blanc and empty, you were left speechless. Only ravishing him. His presence. His hot breath fanning on you. As much as you wanted to take this slowly, you couldn't stop yourself from craving to feel him buried deep inside of you.

Your hand slightly sliding over his growing bulge, earning a hiss and restrained moan from him.

"No. You're not going to be the one to tease me anymore. It's my turn," biting your collarbone, he declared making you leap in his arms.

Feeling self-conscious that you were the only one in undergarment, you unbuttoned his shirt and ripped it off him while he was sloppily making out with you.

Grabbing your thighs, he insinuate for you to jump. Chest to chest, he then threw you on the bed making it sink under your weight. He was finally freed from his restraints of not laying a hand on you.

His body hovering yours, he kissed you passionately. He's never kissed you like this before. Maybe you should restrain him more often.

Jean swallowed your gasp when unknowingly his hand went down your stomach to press on your clothed clit.

"Huh? You like that?" laughs "yeah you like that don't you," he breathed his finger circling around the bud. Your response was a moan and your breath quickening. Your reaction turned Jean on more than he already was.

Going down on you, he sucked your soaked underwear, the room filled with slurping sounds. He gripped your hips by wrapping his big arms around it to prevent you from squirming away. You were practically a moaning mess. Aggressively, he ripped it off you, continuing to lick through your folds.

"Jea-Jean I think I'm going to c-cum," you manage to utter.

"Heh, not yet princess, we got so much more do," he wiped his mouth that was coated with your juices and licked the liquid off his fingers. You looked at him with pleading eyes as you were yearning for a release.

Legs trembling, you raised your body to be able to sit while Jean grabbed the body-safe paint and put a fair amount on the cloth.

"Come here my lady," he said as he picked you to lay your body gently on the canva, paint on your back.

Jean took off his pants and underwear, his hard dick slapping on his stomach whilst you were making yourself comfortable.

A brush in his one hand and a palette in another, he sauirted some paint on the flat item.

Impatience began to overcome you as you begged him to come to you.

"Wait a moment more babe, I'm just making the perfect colour," Jean finished his sentence by approaching you.

Jean maintained eye-contact with you, the brush gliding over your soft skin leaving colors behind its track. Chills ran down your skin after each stroke. Drowning in bliss, Jean slowly ran the tool down your belly to an inch higher up your pussy. You were waiting for him to pass the paint through your core but instead he stopped his actions making you internally more annoyed.

"I'm not going to let you get off so easily after what you did to me," Jean murmured.

Cold. Squeezing the paint tubes, Jean splat paint on your body, mainly on your stomach. He leaned forward and pressed his body against yours to spread the paint.

Lining his dick right outside your entrance, he thrusted in without warning. Your back arching, you let out a moan. His hands rushing behind your back, he hugged your body as he gave you time to adjust to him.

"Mmmm, fits perfectly. Look at how good you take me, yeah you see that? "Jean moaned in your ear.

" It's okay, you can move,"you bit back a groan because Jean didn't leave you a second before pumping in and out of you.

" I can't believe you're mine, all mine, no one but me knows how good you feel, just me,"Jean panted in your ears," listen to my moans, you he-ear how goo-od you're making me feel? "

"AH-yes Jean, yes," you purred.

His forehead rested on yours, mouth connected, swallowing each other's breath and sounds.

" Go faster Jeaann." This made him slow down instead of doing as you wanted.

"Oh? you want me to go faster? Go-o ahead, beg for it. Tell me how bad you need me," Jean's stroked your insides with long and slow thrusts.

"Pl-please Jean, need you so badly, you make me feel so good so take all your anger out on me bu-ut please make me cum alongside with you!"

"Lift your ass, my queen,"Jean satisfied with your answer commanded, which you did as he ordered as he pounded deeper into you mixing the paint on the canva.

"Look at you, such a good girl."

It wasn't long until Jean filled your insides with his hot seed making you scream his name loudly. Right before you could come that Jean could tell by the shaking of your breath, he lifted your body off the masterpiece so that your ejaculation wouldn't ruin it.

In his arms, you came so hard, your liquids dripping down Jean's skin.

"Y/n, I don't think you realised that but what you just did was so hot," Jean admired you.

"Also, thank you for fulfilling my fantasies as an artist," he thanked you kissing your cheeks fondly.

Walking on the towel leading to the bathroom, he put you inside the bathtub, opening the tap to let the container fill with hot water. While it was doing so, Jean got in with you between his legs and head on his chest heaving up and down.

Jean took some shampoo in his hand, and massaged your scalps with you basking. Heavenly was a word too light to describe the feeling. You were basically in paradise.

"In round two I'm not planning on going gentle now so just bite the pillow and take it," Jean sputtered against your hair.

[puckmeupfam]

The Right to Be Jealous | Jake Virtanen

Word Count: 3177 Note: Friends with benefits to lovers with the one and only. I feel like everything I write is same ice cream different cone, but I like to give the people what I want.

Sitting in the shadowed booth, your nails dug into the faux leather upholstery. Everyone else was out dancing and laughing loudly on the sticky floor. They were relaxed, blowing off steam, singing along to the ‘00s pop throwback that was blasting. You just stayed glaring daggers at your vodka cran that had slowly become watered down by the ice, shedding a puddle of condensation. There was one other member of the Canucks posse who was not on the dance floor: Jake was standing with his elbow on the bar while his eyes were on the woman perched on the barstool. In your desperation, you had even tried that body language deciphering trick of looking at his feet just to find them pointed towards her as well. 

Jake was free to do whatever he wants, you told yourself, you have no hold over him. The two of you met shortly after you moved to Vancouver for school. At first, you were friends but nothing more. Yes, you found each other attractive, that was clear. But you were much more compatible at making sarcastic jokes and counseling each other through life’s daily mindfucks than anything else. Then, Jake started inviting you as his plus one to events and parties, he had found that everyone had a tendency to pair off at those events and he wasn’t a fan of not having anyone’s attention. That’s how it started, him shushing you because you were incapable of keeping your voice down and you saving him whenever he got caught in a boring, bureaucratic conversation. 

And that’s how it went until last year’s Halloween party.

You both drank more than usual. And maybe the catalyst was him placing his hand on your bare thigh where the costume had ridden up. Or maybe it was you lamenting about how long it had been since you had gotten laid. But probably it was him tying a knot in that damn cherry stem. No matter how it happened, you found yourself being pulled by the wrist down the hallway of his building. Both of you drunk and giggly. When you stepped into his apartment, he spun you around so your back was flush against the cold door. He spent a minute staring down at you, not laughing anymore. You let yourself get lost in his bright eyes that kept flickering to your lips. Without even realizing it you brought your hand up to his face and stroked your thumb along the apple of his cheek. Suddenly he leaned down and kissed you, hard. The hand on his face went to wrap around his neck while the one previously at your side ended up tangled in his hair. You tasted booze and hints of sweet grape from jello shots as he licked your lip. When you opened your mouth there was something else on his tongue which you classified as “fuck-why-have-we-been-doing-anything-but-this.” No matter what the catalyst was you were gone.

The next morning you woke up with a pounding headache and messy hair. On your right, Jake was sprawled on his stomach with one tattooed arm thrown over your hip. As you started to shift he groaned and tightened his hold on you. Reaching over to scratch your nails against his scalp, you spoke in a scratchy voice, “I’m just getting coffee, you big baby.” When you came back with the mugs full of steaming liquid, Jake’s with an extra splash of cream, you both sat against the headboards quietly. Minutes passed but it was Jake who broke the silence, “(Y/N), you know, I’m so sorry,” he said in a nervous jumble. You didn’t know what you were expecting him to say but it wasn’t that. 

“I just really, really don’t want to fuck us up. You’re so important to me and I just can’t not talk to you every day. It’s not something I can live with,” he continued. When you peered over at him he wasn’t looking back at you but rather locking his eyes on a chip on his mug that he worried with his thumb. Your chest felt tight and your chin wobbled a bit. If Jake was trying not to ruin your friendship then you would have to try too. So you steeled your emotions and forced your hands not to shake as you brought the mug to your lips.

And that was that. 

Until the holiday party. Where the same thing happened, except the next morning he didn’t say anything. Instead, when you moved to get coffee he held your wrist back and insisted he take you out to a diner. While you would really rather him not tell you that last night was a mistake in front of witnesses, you still threw on a hoodie and did your best to tame your hair though you didn’t bother attempting anything for the dark circles under your eyes. The surprising part was that when you got to the diner he didn’t say anything about the night prior. He even went so far as to order for you before you could even open your mouth. Caramel french toast with strawberries and powdered sugar. And when the food came to your table, he even went so far as to nudge the syrup in your direction. 

He never brought it up. And he didn’t the next day. Or the next. But then he pulled you into a corner at Bo’s New Year’s Eve party, planting his lips on yours until you found yourself slipping out the door with him with over thirty minutes remaining until midnight. Whether you liked it or not once was an accident, twice was a coincidence, three was a pattern, and after that… Well, you had simply stopped counting once you got to eleven. Stopped trying to make sense of it. Just went with it.

You’re broken from your memories by Troy and Emma coming back to the table to get their things. With the night winding down and your group dispersing, some realities occurred to you. Jake had picked you up at your apartment earlier in the evening and both of you had planned that he would take you home at the end of the night. Apparently, he had forgotten. Or maybe he just didn’t care. You weren’t sure which was worse: being thrown to the side for a blonde at the bar or being such a blip on your best friend’s radar that he would totally forget about your existence.

“Hey, would you guys be able to give me a ride home by any chance?” you asked, drawing their attention to you. The couple shared a look before nodding along. You grabbed your bag and jacket before scurrying out of the booth and following behind them, not sparing Jake a glance. Slipping into the backseat of Troy’s car, you reminded him of your address. They had the radio turned up lowly so you could vaguely hear the tune but not quite catch the lyrics. You looked at your phone for a few moments before Emma spoke. 

“Didn’t Jake drive you?” You held in a sigh at her loaded question. While you had never spoken about your situation with Jake to anyone, not even Jake himself, you knew other people noticed that there was something going on between the two of you. It wasn’t like you were particularly cautious, nothing you and Jake did was well thought out, the two of you had surely drunkenly made out in too bright of a corner or stumbled out the door a bit too loudly. And everyone had likely discussed whatever the two of you were doing after you left. And Jake might have even talked about your situation during late-night card games on roadies. And… You snapped yourself out of the weird self-analyzing pity show to answer Emma and save yourself from hyperventilating in your friends’ car.

“He did,” you began, “but he was… busy, and I didn’t want to get in his way.” You were sitting behind Emma so you had a much better view of Troy as he reacted to your answer. He squinted before looking over at his girlfriend with a raised brow. Emma’s only response was a mumbled, “Oh.” 

As Troy pulled up in front of your building, you were glad that they didn’t push further. You thanked them profusely for the ride before jumping out and speed walking into your apartment. You closed and locked the door as soon as you got in before pouring yourself a glass of water. One glance at your phone showed that you had many texts waiting for you and one flash of Jake’s name had you powering the device all the way off and plugging it in. You wiped your makeup off and rubbed in your favorite rich moisturizer. Even though it was still fairly early, you felt exhausted with emotions that you shouldn’t have. Nevertheless, you took a melatonin gummy for good measure and brushed your teeth before encasing yourself in blankets and waiting for sleep.

When you woke up to the morning sun on your face, you got up purposefully avoiding your phone. After drinking a cup of coffee you decided to cook a healthy breakfast. Maybe if you detoxed your body a bit it would help to detox Jake from your mind. When you were finished you sat at the counter. You couldn’t stop flashing through every moment with Jake, looking for hidden meanings in his actions and replaying his words to search for anything valuable. It was like you couldn’t stop yourself from relishing in the emotional pain. You weren’t sure how much time passed before you tasted metal and realized you had been chewing up your lip in thought. 

This simply wouldn’t work. No more wallowing, you decided. Cleaning up the pans and dishes you had used with a bit more elbow grease than you would typically use you shoved everything back in its typical place. You stopped yourself for a minute as something occurred to you. While you wished it had been an epiphany about moving on or signing up for online dating, you realized that your kitchen organization was completely lacking. Your pots were nowhere near your stove. Your cups weren’t close enough to your sink. Your pantry was a disaster.

Without any hesitation, you started pulling everything out of the cabinets. Before you knew it your counters were covered in plates, glasses, mugs, pans, and a rice cooker. You had just started alphabetizing your spices when you heard a knock on your door. With a loud groan, you ran to the door and swung it open without even looking through the peephole. Standing in the hallway was none other than Jake Virtanen. You stilled your frenzied movements to just stare at him. His eyes were sharp as they studied your face. 

“Can I come in,” you barely heard his words but they somehow woke you up and you opened the door wider before spinning around and racing back into your kitchen. Your heart pounded wildly as you went back to work. Nerves coursed through your veins so you weren’t being productive but rather picking up an item and setting it down in a slightly different place. The sound of Jake’s footsteps followed you and you could feel him hovering.

“Um… (Y/N)?”

“Yes, Jake?”

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” He paused for a minute to watch you scramble around like a chicken with its head cut off.

“I honestly have no idea.” You huffed and forced your hands to still on the counter top.

“I’m organizing my kitchen.” You forced your face into an expression that could be read as ‘duh’ but given your flushed cheeks and wild eyes, it didn’t seem to translate. 

“Can we talk about what happened last night,” Jake asked. While you hadn’t assumed this was a typical social visit, his question reignited your panic and you resumed your pottering around the kitchen. At first, Jake just seemed bewildered but after a loud clang erupted from two pots you were moving from one side of the counter to the other his eyebrows furrowed into a scowl and he snapped, “(Y/N), do you mind?” 

You threw up your hands and turned to him as he continued, “I want to talk to you and have you actually listen like a normal person instead of doing… whatever it is that you’re doing over there.”

“Talk about what,” you asked, partially trying to buy time and partially trying to seem blase.

“About last night.”

“Nothing happened last night, Jake.”

“I watched you leave with Troy and Emma. You just left, (Y/N).”

“So? You were busy, I wanted to go home.” Without you even realizing it, Jake was taking steps towards you until you glanced up from the floor to find him right in front of you. He reached out his hand to hold your arm. Whether he was trying to comfort you or prevent you from escaping you weren’t sure. The spot where his skin met yours sent tingles down your spine that you forced yourself not to react to.

“When you left, I called Troy,” he said. Now this was news to you. Before you could interject Jake spoke again, “I had been trying to text and call you but you weren’t answering so I finally called Troy. He said you left without me because of that girl.” You tried to pull away but his hand around your arm tightened.

“You were jealous,” Jake said. It wasn’t a question, but a statement. You glared at him, you couldn’t believe that he would come to your apartment just to embarrass you about your feelings for him.

“I wasn’t jealous. I have no right to be jealous about what or who you do,” you snapped. He threw his head back and sighed.

“That’s the fucking point, (Y/N). I want you to have the right to be jealous.”

Your heart stopped. Your mind stopped. You looked up at him just to see his eyes boring into yours. 

“What,” you asked hazily.

“You heard me. I want you to have the right to be jealous.”

“B-but what does that mean?”

“It means… I love you, okay? I love you and I want to be with you and I want you to be jealous even though you don’t ever have to be. Because you’re the only one I see in a crowded room. Because every time we go to a wedding I imagine it’s us standing up there in front of our friends and family. Because I can’t fucking stand being away from you. Because you’re the most important person in my life,” he said emphatically, vehemently. 

“You love me?”

“Yeah, (Y/N), I love you,” he said with a smile on his face. This all felt so confusing and so surreal and you wanted to pinch yourself because this couldn’t be real life. In real life, Jake was the one who decided that the two of you were friends with benefits. Jake was the one who didn’t want to take it any further. Jake was the one who talked with girls at bars.

“Since when,” you murmured. Jake’s smile only brightened.

“Since always,” he told you.

“But, Jake, you said you didn’t want to ruin our friendship. You never seemed like you wanted to take us any further, where is this coming from?” At your words, Jake released your arm and rubbed his palm along his face. The tables turned and now he was the one pacing through your kitchen.

“I thought you wanted that. I thought you were going to tell me that it was all a mistake, that you didn’t really like me.” His words made your stomach squeeze and it felt like you had been slapped in the face. As much as you wished you could wrap your arms around him and kiss him madly, telling him that of course you wouldn’t do that. Because he was Jake and you were you and that would never be a mistake. But you knew that if you fell into him now you wouldn’t get clarity, so you pushed on. “Then what have we been doing? If you were so scared, if you really felt that way, why did we keep happening?” 

Jake stopped his pacing and shoved his hands in his pockets. He refused to look at you, trailing his eyes along the mess in your kitchen and the pictures on your fridge before settling on the floor.

“I couldn’t keep myself away from you. I thought that if that was all I could have with you it would still be better than nothing,” his words were quiet but you still heard him. You forced yourself to take a deep breath and you opened your mouth to speak before Jake interrupted you.

“But then I called Troy last night asking where you were, what happened to you… and he said that you liked me too and I needed to snap out of whatever I was doing and man up,” he brought his eyes up to yours, “he said he was sick of me whining about you like a lovesick puppy and that I needed to, quote, go get my girl.”

His eyes read nothing but love and sincerity. You trusted and believed him. You didn’t want to stumble around your feelings anymore so you stepped forward until you were chest to chest.

“I love you too, Jake,” you said drawing your hand up to his neck. His face erupted into a smile, but instead of leaning in to kiss you, he spoke.

“Do you want to do this thing with me?” Your responding laugh was watery but he waited for your response.

“What? Being in love?”

“Well, yes, that’s pretty important. But I meant being in a real relationship. Y’know? Hold hands in public, change our relationship statuses on Facebook, the whole deal.”

“You don’t even use Facebook,” you teased. He groaned dramatically but the smile seemed to be glued to his face.

“You know what I mean,” he said, “do you want to do this thing with me?”

Jake’s eyes sparkled and you bit your lip. You didn’t deign his question with a response, just brought the hand that rested on his neck down so you could capture his lips in a kiss. For a few blissful moments, it was just you and him. You arched your back to press yourself more fully against him as he planted one hand on your hip as the other snaked up your back. As he moved to press scorching hot open-mouthed kisses down your throat he broke the silence.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

You pulled on his hair until his mouth was back against yours and you whispered against his lips an answering yes.

And if Troy Stecher whistled and hooted an “I told you so,” when you and Jake showed up to the next Canucks gathering, hands tightly intertwined… well, would he be wrong?