#I’ve had nothing to eat but a cup of coffee and it’s showing

[pepperoninice]

I love how Peppino is not selfless. The entire game is about him saving his restaurant, and while you can help John it's not necessary. He's not a "good guy" he doesn't see other people's problems and think "I need to fix this."

He's not an outstanding person in any regard. And that's what makes him more realistic and relatable.

The player still wants him to succeed, even though his quest isn't world-saving and is just about him. Not everyone is special or a hero, but everyone has problems life throws at them.

And I think Peppino shows that really well. You don't have to be a "perfect person" to overcome your challenges to deserve better in life.

[simpjaes]

CUNNILINGUIST ― s.jy (ft. p.sh)

Unfortunately for you, no man has ever given you some good head. Fortunately for you, your best friend is more annoyed by it than you are. It’s just a favor, right? or the one where your best friend jake eats you out as a way to admit his own feelings for you, also, apparently sunghoon existing is an issue.

minors dni! | kindly leave feedback and reblog to give bestie jake conflicting feelings

WORDCOUNT― 16.1 k

PAIRING― jake x afab reader (ft. sunghoon)

CONTENT― a lot of waiting, like to the point it even annoyed me, very fluffy stuff , typical best friends to fuck buddies to “actually, I had feelings this whole time”, jealousy, jake is whiny and needy when he’s horny, reader thinks it’s cute. angst if you’re a baby about it

OTHER CHARACTERS― sunghoon as the mutual friend who bangs reader

NOTE― this was originally written by me on my other blog [@/ncteez], if you’ve read it before, that’s why!

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags― BIG DICKED BESTIE, pussy eating (he gets IN THERE), masturbation in the form of dry humping a mattress and then into his hand, finger fucking, cum eating, sunghoon hook up, morning sex, lazy fingering, lazy fuck, dirty talk , unprotected sex, awkward build up,raw grinding, no blowjob in sight sorry lmao, deep penetration, cream pie, kind of cum stuffing but like not entirely intentional, cheesy love stuff 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“What? Again?” Jake says, leaning back against the couch with a groan and a smack to his own forehead.

“Yeah, so basically he went down on me for less than a minute but expected me to, like, go long enough to ‘swallow’ or whatever.” You continue the story in a frustrated huff, shaking your head in self-pity.

Jake groans louder, leaning himself forward again and swiping his drink from your coffee table to take a long and thoughtful sip. 

“How many times is that, then?” He says between sips, glancing around the room as if he’s in deep thought. “I can’t help but think you pick these kinds of guys on purpose at this point.”

You look at him in mock pain, grabbing his drink and taking your own thoughtful sip of it.

“I dunno, they always talk big game during phone sex and stuff. I figure eventually one of them will live up to it.” You drone on, internally marking your recent date’s name off of your call-back list. 

“Be honest with me, have you ever actually gotten good head? Like how would you know if they’re bad if you have nothing good to compare them to?” Jake asks, letting you mindlessly drink his beverage.

It’s not weird to be having these types of conversations with him, if at all, something would seem off if you didn’t. He’s the only person in your life that you’ve ever felt this close to. At this point, you think he’d have to chase you down with a bloody hatchet for things to be awkward. Which is…kind of interesting, you guess.

“Well, I mean,” You think for a moment too long for his liking, but he gives you the space to finish your answer. “It feels good and all but it’s not like I’ve ever gotten off by it.”

“Correction –” Jake starts, blinking right at you. “You’ve never been given the chance to get off on it.” His bright  smile shows through his words, and you’re sure he’s mocking you at this point.

“Yeah, yeah. Yada, yada. I have terrible taste in sexual partners but to be fair, it’s not like the pool is that big to choose from.”

He nods in agreement, humming as if to end the conversation and still watching you sip at his drink.

“Would you be opposed to–” He pauses, making eye contact with you. “Y’know, I could do it for you.”

You pause, nearly dropping his drink out of your hand but thankfully your grip actually tightens on it instead. You swallow as you look at him, searching his face to see if this is some kind of joke.

“Jae-fucking-yun,” You deadpan, sitting his cup back down on your coffee table and leaning toward him, staring him down. “You’d really do that, for me?”

You bat your eyelashes at him, mostly playing it off as a half-joke just to see if he’s fucking with you or not. 

“How else are you gonna experience it?” 

You stare him down harder.

“You say that like you’re some sort of pussy-eating-god,” You narrow your eyes. “Are you?”

He shrugs casually with his little smile, leaning back on your couch and stretching his arms out. One of his hands lands behind your shoulder and you lean into it. 

“I’d let you be the judge of that if you’re up for it.”

Finally, you decide that he’s definitely not joking and you’re definitely gonna do it because like, that’s your best friend. Experiencing your firsts with him comes almost as naturally as walking. You had your first kiss with him, albeit it was a dare. You experienced your first concert with him, your first break up, your first failed exam, and even your first legal drink in a club. What’s so bad about letting him eat you out?

“Right now?” You ask, quirking your brow and tilting your head.

“Now, tomorrow, next week. Whenever.” He runs his hands through his hair as he says it and only now are you starting to really tune into his features that you’ve already found handsome.

Day after day you’ve seen him on this couch and in other states of dress without really thinking twice about how his lips would feel on you (despite that short first kiss). You’ve seen him kissing all up on other people, you’ve seen him in the club with wet lips from alcohol, you’ve seen him all messy and eating spaghetti at his parent’s house– but for some reason, his lips seem different now. His sleepy eyes seem different, his messy hair seems like something that should be tugged on, his fucking jawline– 

“Why’re you staring at me like that?” He looks at you up and down as if he’s judging. “You wanna go right now?”

You nod slowly, letting the traces of any lusty thoughts you’ve had about him in your life come to the front in waves. Then you quickly shake your head.

“Wait, no,” You roll your eyes more at yourself than him. “I haven’t showered since my date, maybe I should, uh…”

“Uh – yeah. Please do.” He grimaces, that same dopey smile coming back after a moment. 

“Fair.” You roll your eyes. “Gonna go shower then.” 

Part of you wonders if like, he’s being totally legit. For all you know, you’ll get out of the shower and he’ll be too busy doing something else, or like, he’ll go home or something. No hurt in seeing though.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

In the bathroom, you can’t help the feeling in your chest at even the thought that this may be about to happen.

Excitement. That’s what you feel. Not because it’s Jake. Well, maybe a little bit because you wanna see what his tongue is all about but more so because you’re about to get some presumably good head.

You shower thoughtfully, cleaning every part of your body and feeling little goosebumps rise and fall with each sensation of your air conditioning snaking its way past your shower doors. When you get out, you lotion your body so you’re all nice and soft and brush your teeth just in case things go a little further. You’re not expecting it to, but y’know, nothing wrong with having fun if it comes to it. 

After all, he’s doing you a favor by going down on you, the least you can do is smell good, be soft, and totally prepared for if he were to suggest more, right? Right. Anyway, you’re all showered up and opt to just let your hair do its own thing as you throw on your shirt and shorts. You ignore the panties at this point, because why not?

When you get back to the living room, Jake isn’t there. Naturally, you check your bedroom and there he is, still his normal self and lounging against your headboard while flipping through videos on his phone. 

“And she’s back,” he comments, reaching a hand out as if to invite you to your own bed. “Change your mind yet?”

“Not even for a second,” you smile as you take a spot in front of him, your entire body facing him as you pull your knees up and lay your chin against your arms. “Have you?”

He seems to fall into a more serious tone now, locking his phone before tossing it to the side and flicking his eyes up to look at you, scanning your legs in the shorts. 

“No,” he chokes back, shocked to see straight between the gap of your shorts and actually lay eyes on the point of this whole situation for the first time. “And you’re not wearing anything under those shorts.”

You watch his face and the way it turns from your best friend into something you’ve seen time and time again from men you’ve gone home with. It’s sexy on him though, for some reason.

“Figured I’d save you the trouble?”

He smiles, now moving himself toward you and reaching a hand behind to cradle your head. 

“Lay back,” he says softly, in a voice you’ve only heard a few times from him, “you could have left the shorts off too though.” He adds with an even softer laugh.

For some reason, it makes you feel shy. His hand guiding you to lay back all while grabbing the pillow from behind him and placing it under your head so that you’re nice and comfortable.  You watch him look at you and honestly, it’s in a way you can’t remember him ever looking at you before. If this is how he looks at other women, you may be a little jealous. 

It feels more intense right now than you thought it would.

“You’re being weird.” You say offhandedly, looking away from him and trying to keep the heat from flushing to your cheeks. 

“You’re letting me eat you out, how am I being weird?” He leans up from you, putting two hands on your knees but still waiting for your eyes to meet his again. “You want me to act like the other dudes? Dip my tongue in then wrap it up?”

You groan, rolling your eyes back to him and analyzing the way his big hands drape over your knees. 

“Okay, fair.” You admit defeat, feeling his warm palms move down the back of your thighs and to your ass. 

“Lift up,” He says, quickly pulling the shorts off of you when you do as he asks. 

“Oh–” He gasps quietly. “Damn.”

He stares directly between your legs, bracing his hands back at your knees and spreading your legs a bit. He angles his head in different ways to really look at you, seemingly enamored with your pussy as a whole. 

“Look who’s staring now.” You chuckle, instinctively hiding your face from him despite knowing he isn’t looking up at you.

“Yeah– I am,” he admits, now adjusting himself on the bed to lay down, his head easily slotting between your legs as he rests his chin on your lower belly and looks up at you. “You can pull my hair or do whatever, I’m just gonna…like, start I guess. Tell me if it’s something you don’t like.”

As normal as this isn’t, he’s speaking similar to how the two of you had taken on projects before. He typically takes the lead but offers you control more often than not. All you can do is nod at him, trying to comprehend that it’s your best friend’s head between your legs right now.

When he pulls his head back up with one last nod of confirmation, the first thing you feel is his fingers slipping up your folds, the other braced on your thigh and holding your legs open. You release a short sigh of relief at the feeling and he instantly smirks at it. 

“I haven’t even started yet,” He whispers, glancing up at you before fixing his eyes back on the expanse of your pussy. He uses his ring and pointer finger to spread your lips open, and the middle finger to rub against your hole only for a brief moment before he licks his lips and releases his own sigh of relief. “God, Sunghoon would be so jealous right now.”

You look down at him, wanting to ask him what the fuck he’s talking about and why he’d bring up Sunghoon right now, but you find yourself staring at him instead. Breath caught in your throat with the way his eyes meet yours before letting his tongue hang from his mouth as if presenting it to you in a cheeky way.

He’s so fast with it too, with the way he replaces his middle finger with his tensed tongue, forcing you to swallow your words and hold your breath even more. You can feel him lick and nibble against each of your lips before moving inward, flattening his tongue to lick one long, languid, and wet stripe up until meeting your clit. 

He wraps his lips around it, sucking once, hard, before releasing it and pulling back to look at you.

“This okay?”

Goddamn him for making you have to talk right now. You’re still trying to comprehend the fact that he said Sunghoon, fucking Sunghoon of all people would be jealous that he’s doing this right now. That’s definitely a question for later, because yeah, it’s fucking okay. 

More than okay. 

You nod to him, throwing your arm over your eyes and instinctively bucking your hips up towards his hovering mouth. 

“Oh, that was hot,” He groans out his compliment, watching the way you hide your face before he pulls his eyes back down and uses his fingers to spread your pussy open wider, enough to see your hole pulsate when he dips down to blow against it, “I can see how wet you’re getting, Is it because of me or is it just because someone is playing with your pussy?”

You half groan half moan at that, mostly because hearing these words from him is something that feels entirely too sexual. As if he hasn’t already tasted you, as if you’re not spread out by his fingers right now. You ignore his words, yet, your brain holds onto them with white knuckles and your hips buck toward him again.

“Not a talker, got it.” He notes, watching your hips chase his breath. 

He watches for much longer than you’d like for him to, and you’re about to lift up and accuse him of being just like the other guys but he shuts your thoughts off so fucking fast when you feel his lips on you again. 

His tongue explores every part of you, licking and sucking against areas you didn’t even know would feel good until his mouth lands against your clit again. This time, you can’t help it, you grind up and he hums at it as he braces your legs open just enough to skew his head and move his tongue back down. 

He’s slurping. Lost in the moment as he does it. Tasting you in full and getting a warm, pleasant feeling each time your legs try to close and your hips buck up for more. He…can’t believe this is finally happening. Fucking finally.

Unsure if you’d let him, he tries anyway. He stiffens his tongue, circling your hole before pressing just a bit, giving you just enough pressure that you feel frustrated. So frustrated that you’re the one who ends up finishing his attempt at something new. You reach down and lace your fingers in his hair, and let out a soft, needy little moan for him. 

That sound forces one from his chest too, he can’t help it, really. With the way you’re grabbing his hair and holding his head in place, pressing yourself against his mouth so much harder than before. Ah, he really, really loves doing this for you. 

To think any man would already be done? To think anyone could like, not wanna eat you out? Insanity. Stupid, stupid fucking men.

He can taste how wet you are now, truly taste it as he stretches your hole as much as he can with his tongue and another groan of his own. It’s probably embarrassing, truly, but he doesn’t care. 

Both of you are moaning at this point as you hold his head in place and grind your hips harder than you think you are. He loves it, you love it. So much that you really are barely comprehending that your best friend could do this the whole time?! And never told you until now?!

Jake is just as drunk on the moment as you are though. Totally lost in the scent and taste of you as he continues to lap away, constantly trying to prove that you can and will get off from his mouth alone. And honestly? It’s at the point that he figures he can use his fingers now too considering you let him spread you open with his tongue. What’s a little more gonna hurt, anyway?

The taste of you alone has him in heaven, cursing any man who didn’t take advantage of your pussy against their mouth. He can easily slip a finger into a hole this wet and needy, gasping in awe before glancing up at you. 

God, the way you immediately ride his finger, no huff or sound of irritation that he’s pulled his tongue back now. Your face. Fuck. 

He watches as you shamelessly chase the small amount of pleasure he can offer in terms of just head and fingering. He can imagine how hot you’d be without that shirt on, with your legs around his hips, with your mouth wrapped around him. You look blissed out, soaking his finger and keeping your hand in his hair, mindlessly grabbing and scratching at him. 

Making quick work, he goes back for your clit, circling his tongue around the bundle of nerves and noticing how you ride his finger harder. He can’t help but smirk against you when you do it either. 

The movement of your hips constantly humping against him is enough, and he can’t help but groan at the sound of your slick squelching out of you and warming his chin, he can’t fucking help but grind his own hips forward when you act like this. His cock is so painfully hard for you right now, at the taste of you, that all he can do is chase the mattress beneath him. Tensing his muscles and moaning against your clit shamelessly at the jolts of pleasure he gets from it. 

He slips another finger in with ease, feeling how much wetter you’ve gotten in the way the slide is filthy and audible. You groan out at that too, feeling his tongue flick relentlessly against your clit and only now moving your free hand from your face and trailing to your stomach. 

You can’t even talk, so you don’t. You lift your shirt up until you can at least rub against your nipples, just to heighten the pleasure your best friend is so graciously giving you.

His eyes roll back when you do that, only to fall back on you and get a frustrated grunt from him. He’s a bit annoyed that the shirt is still covering you despite your hand under it, fondling yourself. He’s thinking with his cock, so fucking aroused that he doesn’t think twice when he aggressively lifts your shirt up to your chin and watches the way your fingers poke and prod at yourself.

He inhales a sharp breath at the image, and his hips fuck harder against the mattress at that. His fingers speed up and now he’s focused. You feel him all over you from the waist down, his tongue flicking and lips sucking against your swollen clit, his fingers relentlessly fucking into you, your fingers heightening those sensations by playing with your own tits– then, oh, then you notice. 

Jake, you’re best fucking friend, is so goddamn horny that he’s dry humping against your bed and whining out moans against your clit. Probably to avoid asking for more, to avoid making you feel obligated to get him off too, to avoid anything you may not want or consent to. And that’s why he’s your best friend.

It doesn’t take long after that, your hips come to a stop as you watch him get himself off all while getting you off, and you find your orgasm bubbling up much faster than if you’d have imagined solely because of the image in front of you.

“Jake, you’re fucking whining.” You groan almost as needy as he does, rolling your hips up in a stutter. 

He was almost gonna stop, because yeah, he is whining. Gasping for air but only tasting you, only swallowing up the moans you give to him, only inhaling the dull scent of the fruity soap you used when you showered. But, you moan louder after you say that. You like it. You like seeing him act so desperate. So he continues, shamefully reaching one of his hands between himself and the bed and quickly shoving it down his pants, circling around his cock and continuing to fuck into it. 

If he thinks hard enough, you’re what he’s fucking right now, and technically, he is. With his fingers and mouth at least. When your hips stutter more, he fucks harder against his hand and holds his fingers inside of you as deep as he can get them. There, he sucks against your clit until you’re the one whining louder. 

You’re shocked at how quickly you’re getting off. Releasing a splash against him in a breathy, choked up sob. Nearly squeezing his head between your thighs to the point he almost misses the way you breathe out strings of praises toward him. But he hears them. 

He definitely heard you say that he looks sexy with your hand in his hair, and god, did he ride off of the fact that you encouraged him to get off with you. Regardless of if you knew if he could or not, regardless of if you knew his hand was providing just enough pleasure for him to do just that. 

There, as your orgasm subsides with his tongue still flicking your sensitive clit, you watch him writhe his hips against your mattress, his eyes slammed shut, and his breath coming out in pornographic moans. So this is what Jake looks like when he cums. It’s desperate, but somehow, it feels passionate too.

You’re all dazed after the fact, pussy pulsing and tingling from the loss of his lips and fingers once he pulls back and lays against your bed with a lazy smile. His pants are uncomfortable, but he doesn’t mind as he wipes his hand across his shirt and watches the way you catch your breath. 

“So,” He tries to say, clearing his throat. “I– um– hope that’s what you needed?”

You’re shy. You’re never fucking shy, especially towards Jake, but god. 

“Um, yeah,” you sigh out, lifting from the bed and looking back at him. Part of you wondering if that’s what it’s supposed to be like when someone gives you good head, or if that’s just…what it’s like when Jake gives head.

For some reason, you genuinely don’t think another man would ever eat you out to that level again. There’s no way, based on experience. 

“It was definitely what I needed.” 

He nods in a shy way, reminding himself that his pants are fucking nasty right now. So, he goes to stand up and extends a hand out to you. 

“Let’s go clean up.” 

You shake your head, not at all wanting to move from this bed. He nods again, pulling your shirt back down for you and leaning to look at you. 

“I’m gonna bring you something to clean up with, and I’m gonna shower.”

You smile at him, a bit dazed as you make yourself comfortable on your messy sheets as you think hard about the fact that this dopey motherfucker really never told you how good he was at this? Rude.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jake looks all proud of himself when he comes back to your room and cuddles into bed with you much like he always has. 

“I didn’t expect to sleep over, I have work in the morning.” He whispers in a rasp against your back, curling around you like the perfect big spoon. 

You’re quick to turn on his work alarm on your phone, like you always do when he crashes during weeknights. Because, what best friend doesn’t have alarms set for each other anyway?

After a few more long moments of silence, you try to talk. Mostly because your brain is swimming with the fact that, like, you’re not sure but it’s just– wow. 

“Hey, um–”

“Hmm?” He hums out in a sleep-heavy voice.

“Did you actually enjoy doing that?”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I literally came in my pants.” His sudden louder voice causes you to jump, but you relax back into his gasp. 

“Oh,” You think hard. “Is this gonna change stuff between us?”

“Probably, but not in like, a bad way. More like in the can-i-eat-you-out-all-the-time-way.” He responds with mock-confidence, shifting a bit and hugging you closer to him, as if to hide the way he’s trying to make this sound like a joke. For his own comfort, really.

You smile.

“And don’t tell other dudes my secrets.” He adds.

“I won't.”

Jake has his own smile from behind you, wondering if he really is just that good at eating pussy. The truth is, he’s done it a handful of times but he was just really really interested in doing it for you. For…reasons.

・・・・・・THIS WAS ORIGINALLY TWO PARTS, NOW IT’S ONE. YOU’RE WELCOME・・・・・・

“Hey, um,”

“Hmm?” Jake hummed out in a sleep-heavy voice.

“Did you actually enjoy doing that for me?”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I literally came in my pants.” He responded in a sudden, louder voice. 

“Oh,” You think hard. “Is this gonna change stuff between us?”

“Probably, but not in like, a bad way. More like in the can-i-eat-you-out-all-the-time-way.” 

You remember the conversation that happened after he went down on you like it was yesterday, and he’s a goddamn liar. Nothing changed in your friendship with him, and he certainly doesn’t ask to eat you out all the time either. If anything, you’ve felt disappointed time and time again with the aftermath of that night.

It’s weighing on you in a strange way. At first, the weeks following the first and apparently, only time Jake went down on you, you almost expected him to ask for a repeat. You wanted to return the favor. You wanted him to ask but he never did. Even when he came over to hang out, even when you tried to lay down hints.

Nothing changed.

In fact, he doesn’t even talk about it. He doesn’t look at you as if he’s tasted you, and he doesn’t act like he came in his palm against your bed, right in front of you. He’s just…Jake. Sweet, caring, aloof, Jake. And you’re just you. Except you want to be someone else at this point. Someone that he does feel differently around after that.

Maybe you weren’t a memorable event for him when it comes to intimacy. Maybe he prefers to pretend it never happened? Maybe he was really just doing you a favor and intending for it to never go past the initial act. Even with his sweet words after the fact. Maybe, that was just to reassure you so it wouldn’t be awkward. 

You’re a version of you who wants to know what the fuck he’s thinking about. Did it taste bad? Did he get cold feet about it all? Arguably, if things did get weird after what happened, you’d feel more comfortable than you do with the situation as it stands. 

It is weird now, but only because it’s not weird for him. 

Even now, as you lay across the same bed where he had his head nestled between your legs, you can almost feel the tingle of what it felt like. The way his hair tickled your thighs, and the way his fingers laid against the flesh of your legs. The sun is beaming in through your windows and it still doesn’t feel as warm as it did when he cuddled against you that night. It’s been weeks and your heart is sick for him by this point. Sick with confusion, angst, lust, maybe even love if you think hard enough. 

You miss him a lot more than before as you throw your hand up to your face in a gentle slap as if to knock yourself out of it. This is insane. Every day you wake up feeling this way, thinking of him, and where you stand with him. It wasn’t like this at first, you truly expected him to come back for more and now you’re just sitting here with a loop of reasons as to why he never did. 

Insane. You’ve gotten head from so many people and didn’t think twice about them the next day, Jake is different though. You knew he would be too.

Why is Jake any different? Why do you miss him so badly right now? Why couldn’t he pick up on it either? Even worse, why do you feel like doing that with him was a mistake?

He’s with his parents for the weekend, and you’re here still thinking about shit that should have been released with your orgasm. 

You haven’t gone on any dates since that day, you haven’t met up with any one other than him to hang out, and at this point you’re starting to feel a little pathetic for falling in so deep. It’s entirely one sided, he makes that very clear.

So, naturally, you hop up with the confidence of a damn lion and decide that today, it ends. You will stop making it weird between the two of you, if he has even noticed anyway. You’re gonna get dressed, look hot as fuck, and sit on your couch swiping left and right until you find a hot piece of man that’s willing to take you out tonight.

That’s when something dawns on you. You remember Jake briefly mentioning Sunghoon to you, which seemed more like an implication if anything at the time. 

Why would Sunghoon be jealous of what happened? You can admit to being attracted to him but it’s not like the two of you hang out often or anything, and it’s also kind of a rule for yourself that you don’t fuck within the friendgroup. Jake was an exception, solely because that’s your best friend. Or, well, was your best friend. 

Now though? Who cares about these little rules you create for yourself? You need a confidence boost. You need your mind to be taken off of this little spiral you keep falling into. Most of all, you need to be proven wrong that you can still get off without it being him. 

So, texting Sunghoon? Easy. 

Thankfully, Sunghoon texting you back at lightning speed seemed even easier for him. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Well, Sunghoon sure did a great job at getting your mind off of Jake for the past couple of hours. 

You lay here in his bed, feeling your body tingle from the sensation of just how well he lived up to the promise of a good time. For hours he touched you, licked against you, fucked you. And yeah, you did fucking enjoy it. 

But why now? Why did you only just decide to give Sunghoon a shot? Why are you lying in his bed, with his heavy arms thrown across you as he snores gently behind you, feeling the need to cry? Why do you wish it was Jake, your best friend who seemed so eager to please and then suddenly leaped ten feet back as if he never suggested it in the first place? 

Your brain is confused despite your body relaxing itself from the state of bliss you were able to experience. You really did enjoy this time with Sunghoon and think that maybe, if you continue to make late night visits to him, the need for your best friend will weaken in time. 

God, if only Jake would just talk about it.

And you fall asleep thinking about that. About how you’ve let your feelings weaken you to the point that it’s genuinely hard to enjoy being pleasured by someone who actually has the capability. 

And, well, you wake up much the same, except Sunghoon was quite quick with his fingers upon waking up himself. Showing you that even if the person you want doesn’t have a thing to do with you, he sure does. 

“Good morning,” He rasps in a sleepy voice, fingers already traveling down your stomach as he hugs up against you from behind. “Glad you finally came through for me.” 

You quirk a brow. Right, Jake is the whole reason you're here. If not for mentioning him, at least.

“I finally came through?” You chuckle, your body jolting at the ticklish sensation of his lips brushing the back of your neck. “You knew I was single, why didn’t you call me?” 

You feel a harsher kiss against your neck, and his fingers only travel further down now. 

“Bro code.” He whispers, dipping his fingers between your still naked thighs. “I’m not overstepping if you’re the one asking for it.” He slides his fingers gently back and forth between your legs, trying to work you up. “And you did.” 

You think hard about that. Bro code, overstepping limits, not coming onto someone unless they do first solely because someone must have asked him not to. And you’d think even harder about who that someone might be, but instead your brain is quickly thrown into the morning sex routine Sunghoon must offer to all of his lovers. 

You enjoy it too, the small moments of bliss where you’re not in your head about what you could have possibly done wrong with Jake for you to end up feeling this way. It’s a brief moment of numbness though, feeling his fingers pleasure you gently can only do so much to quiet your thoughts. 

“Are you saying one of your friends had dibs on me or something?” You laugh in a half-joke, arching your back to rub your ass up and against the bigger and warmer man behind you. 

“You could say that, I’m assuming he missed his chance though–” Sunghoon whispers snidely, now satisfied with how you already drip for him and sliding one of his fingers into you. His other hand, being used to hike one of your legs up and against his hip to open you up for him. “You wouldn’t be here doing this if he didn’t.” 

You clench around his finger unintentionally, pretending you don’t know who you’re both referring to. Mostly because there’s no way in hell it’s your best friend, seeing as how he’s acting like you don’t exist outside of platonic friendship with him. Then again, who else could it be? Jay? Heeseung? Fucking Jungwon? As fucking if. 

“I guess he did miss his chance–” You breathe, now allowing yourself to give into the lazy and slow pleasure being offered. “Deeper.” 

And he listens. Sunghoon goes deeper and deeper with one finger, then two, then three, up until you slip his fingers out of you and plead through your body to have more. Deeper still, holding you from behind, plunging in as if to intentionally fuck the confusion out of you. As if to, maybe, prove that Jake isn’t the only man who can please you now. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

When you eventually find yourself walking through your front door, you do feel better. Sunghoon did have some type of capability to make you feel as desired as Jake did. After all, it’s not often that you sleep over with a man, better yet get fucked again as soon as you wake up with him. 

Even so, you know Jake will be back tomorrow, wanting to hang out yet again as if nothing happened. Thankfully, with Sunghoon around, maybe you can pretend alongside him. Maybe even forget it ever happened. 

You can argue that for the first time, you’re even a bit annoyed when you see his name pop up in your notifications with a call as if you’re not right in the middle of texting Sunghoon. It’s not that you were trying to go back over to his house or anything, but man, he sure is trying to get you to come back for a third round already. 

Maybe you just like when people are eager to please you, or maybe you don’t like to feel as if you’re the one chasing another person. Still, you answer Jake, seemingly releasing all of this resentment you’ve built up for him in an instant. 

“What?” You huff into the phone, feeling it vibrate with another text from Sunghoon and wanting nothing more than to see what his fourth reason would be for you to come over not even two hours after you left. 

“What?” Jake responds in confusion  to you. “What do you mean ‘what’?” 

“I mean what do you want? I’m busy.” You huff again with a roll of your eyes, flopping back on your bed. 

“Oh god, something happened.” Jake groans, though he was simply calling you because he missed your voice. “What’s wrong?” 

“No, not really. Was just trying to figure out what I’m doing tonight when you rudely interrupted me.” 

Something is off, Jake can feel it. Your voice has a bite to it, one that feels like you’re mad at him. Not to mention, he knows what you mean when you say you’re trying to find something to do for the night. He tries to reserve his feelings though, despite wanting that something to be him. 

“Oh, I know there’s an event at one of the clubs downtown tonight I think. Jay mentioned it–” He pauses briefly to hear another annoyed breath from you. “You’re not gonna go with him?” 

“Nah,” You wave off dismissively. “I think I’m just gonna go hang out with Sunghoon.” 

You don’t notice at all the brief and panicked silence for a solid second and a half before Jake reacts.

“Wait, what?” He says quickly after managing to process those words, trying not to sound as panicked as he knows he feels. “Sunghoon? Why?!” 

God, he knew he shouldn’t have said anything about Sunghoon that day, but his confidence was overflowing and he couldn’t help but boast at the time. It’s come back to shoot him in the dick, knowing full well that Sunghoon has been trying to get you into bed since he fucking met you. Hearing you ask for him in this context is something that makes his blood run cold. 

“Relax, I was with him last night. It’s kind of like, maybe gonna be a normal thing now.” 

You refuse to pick up on Jake’s tone. He had all the time in the world to make you feel something other than confusion, and this is just fucking petty at this point. He clearly doesn’t want to have anything with you, so why in the hell should you just sit around hoping? Waiting? 

“Sunghoon? You want to fuck Sunghoon?” He asks in a lower tone, trying to convince himself that he has to be mishearing you. You can hear him shuffle around and close a door behind him, showing that he doesn’t want his parents to hear him. But the frustration showing blatantly in his voice is somehow…satisfying. 

“I already did. I figured he would show me a good time since no one else can, and he did.” You shrug with slight disobedience. Resentment bubbling up in your gut to the extent that you almost want to grill him for having any type of opinion about it. 

Jake hangs on those words for a second. “Since no one else can.” 

He really thought he was the one who could do it for you. 

“Yeah, but–”  Jake starts, feeling like a child almost in the way he protests despite not being in a position to have a say in who you sleep with. “You know what? Nevermind. Do what you want.” He adds blankly, hanging up before you can get another word in. 

Honestly, he doesn’t know what he’s doing wrong because you acted like he was fully capable of doing everything right. Hanging out with him consistently after the fact, not making it weird, flirting with him, asking him to sleep over. 

He wasn’t sure if he should ask you for more or if he should ask you to be his girlfriend first. The whole reason he’s with his parents right now is because he felt the need to run home to his Mom for girl advice. Embarrassing? Yes, but he really wanted to do things right. He cares about you. 

He needed just one single weekend away, and the second he’s gone you’re out fucking other dudes? Fucking Sunghoon? 

By now, that asshole is probably feeling like he’s on top of the world for getting to touch you. Not even he has done what Sunghoon managed to do with you by now and he can’t help but feel pissed about it. 

Whether you’re his or not, Sunghoon never should have been a fucking option. 

So, he calls you right back, pushing back the feeling of how pathetic it seems considering he’s the one who hung up on you. Then, when you don’t pick up, he immediately feels his stomach drop. 

You must be talking to Sunghoon, you must be setting up a time and place to meet with him. And Jake has heard that Sunghoon knows how to fuck. Other people have said he’s good in bed. Surely, if you’ve already been with him once and you’re still wanting to go back to him, those other people weren’t lying. 

To Jake, it feels like he’s losing you to his own friend with each passing second, and it’s weighing so heavy that spamming your phone with calls to interrupt whatever it is you’re doing right now feels like the right thing to do. In fact, it feels like it is the best thing in the world to do. 

He calls again. You don’t answer.

Again.

“What?!” You answer, annoyed. 

“Why would you even want Sunghoon?! Is he really that much better than I am?” He doesn’t think before he says it, because if he did, he wouldn’t have been able to say it at all. 

It’s his turn to experience that awkward silence because in all fairness, you don’t know how to respond to that. You feel annoyed now, you feel confused and quite frankly, blind sided. Since when did he care? 

“What’s that supposed to mean? You came onto me once and then never followed up.” You dead-pan at yourself in the mirror across your bedroom, speaking into the phone with a voice that seems scolding. “I don’t see why you’re mad that I’m hanging out with Sunghoon. We aren’t dating, Jake.”

“Since when? Who said I didn’t want to do it again?” Jake argues back in a whispered voice, showing you that he still can’t be as loud as he’d like to be. He chooses to ignore that last sentence though, pretending as if it doesn’t strike him in the center of the heart. 

“Nobody! That’s the thing, you haven’t said anything about it. Not that you want to, not that you don’t. You’re just being you and it’s driving me up a fucking wall.”

Pause.

“You’re mad because I didn’t make it weird?” It’s like his brain clicks. 

“Pretending it didn’t happen somehow makes it worse.” You lower your voice, ignoring the string of texts Sunghoon is sending you and listening closely to what Jake might say next. Your heart is racing through this hushed argument, and it feels good to admit that you kept thinking about it, even if he hasn’t.

“I wasn’t pretending that it didn’t happen,” He pinches the bridge of his nose with a sigh. “I just wasn't sure what the next step was.”

You’re fucking appalled.

“Jake, I have been flirting with you since it happened because I couldn’t stop thinking about it. You’re the one who didn’t make any moves, so I figured you wanted it to end there.” You sigh loudly, but somehow feel a bit lighter. “Do you have any idea how that fucked with my confidence?”

Jake sighs along with you on the other end of the line. 

“That’s why I was annoyed earlier, and that’s why I’m going to Sunghoon’s tonight.”

“What?” Jake’s voice raises a bit higher. “Still?!” 

It’s the fact that he’s trying to explain himself. Had he known that you were confused by his lack of, um, touching you, he would have done it every day since it happened! Yet, you’re still considering Sunghoon an option? Knife to the heart, honestly. 

Or maybe he’s not being clear enough with you about this. 

You, on the other hand, nod your head as you hum a confirmation to him, smiling and wondering if this conversation will turn into an event that would, perhaps, have you cancel the hook-up with Sunghoon.

“Why? Are you jealous?” You pry.

“You really called him, and now I’m just sitting here in my old room trying to find a way to get to you before he does….again.” An inhale. “ Yes! I’m fucking jealous!” 

You remain silent, trying to pretend that your pettiness isn’t solely to confirm what he seems to be implying to you. Then, an unintentional chuckle leaves your lips. 

“Why are you laughing?!” His voice is raised again, and he doesn’t seem to stop spilling what he needs to say. “I wanted to do that for you for years and you somehow still didn’t know?” He pauses. “I always made it weird between us, what? You thought I treated all of my friends like that?”

You just listen, feeling your heart beat in time with each word he speaks. Strings of sentences like, “I’m going to kick his ass.” and “You thought I’d just eat you out as a friend?! You’re insane.” and “I would have come home last night if you wanted to feel good so badly, why did you have to go see him, of all people?” 

The confirmation of Jake being the friend who forbade Sunghoon from making a move on you is right there, clear as day. 

“Ah, so the Jake I know isn’t the Jake everyone else knows?” You respond, trying to force the tingling feeling in your gut to calm itself. Hearing him be so blatant to you has your heart doing flips, and it’s not an easy task to make it stop.

“Of-fucking-course not!” He rolls his eyes, you can definitely tell. “You had me wrapped around your pinky from day one.”

“And you really thought that, with the way you seemed so uninterested–” You pause, processing his words. “I would have asked you to come home from your parent’s house to get me off? For what? Funsies? You thought I'd be brave enough or selfish enough to ask such a thing?” 

Jake sighs deeply, seemingly fed up with the situation. 

“It wouldn’t be because you are selfish.” He breathes out, almost angrily. “And for the last time, I’m not uninterested. I was just trying to do things right. I don’t just want to fuck you, you know.” 

“And you didn’t think to tell me until weeks after you ate me out?” You smile harder, trying to contain the heat flushing over your cheeks. “Until after I thought I had a pH imbalance and maybe you were just grossed out by me?!” 

“I’m genuinely shocked you didn’t know already. Made me think you weren’t interested enough to like–” He pauses, not wanting to be too telling. “I guess waiting and being polite isn’t really your style. I should have known that though.”

You let him continue, because you can tell he’s simply taking breaths and small pauses to figure out how to express his thoughts to you. 

“You can’t tell me that over the years, you never once noticed how often I stared at you.” He lowers his voice again, softening it to an extent that you actually feel the butterflies fly from your belly to your chest. 

”The fact that I jumped in head first and offered to do that for you? I didn’t think I had to tell you at this point…”He breathes out a chuckle through the line this time. “And for the record, I couldn’t get enough of it. I was just trying to like– I don’t know.”

You listen to him breathe deeply, again. 

“I didn’t want you to think I was in it just for the sex, I guess.”

There. There it is. You’re nearly kicking your feet, feeling him confirm feelings and erase any hint of doubt within you. Despite never truly noticing that he treats you differently compared to his other friends, despite never thinking too hard about the way he looks at you. 

“You acted like it wasn’t a big deal, Jake. I’m not joking. If that’s how you act when you like someone, you shouldn’t blame me for not noticing.”

“I literally tongue fucked you.” He dead-pans. “Friends don’t just do that.”

“I thought we were friends who could do that.” You argue. “But I guess you’re not quite looking to just remain friends, are you?” 

“No,” Jake sighs. “Mom told me I needed to take you out on some extravagant date and express my undying love for you with a handful of red roses, but I guess this is just how it’s gonna be. After all, this is you.” 

“And this is you.” You confirm. 

“I was going to come home tomorrow and try to lie our way to the restaurant, which I still can, if you want. You kind of fucked up my plan though.” 

You pause at his words, suddenly feeling like shit for not realizing sooner. In your defense though, if he really did like you from day one, you didn’t exactly have a chance to see how he would have acted without feelings. The Jake you know is your best friend, and someone you trusted with everything, you thought he treated everyone as well as he treated you. That’s why, when he didn’t change, you couldn’t read him anymore. 

Then again, all of this could have been fucking avoided if he had just voiced it to you. 

“Romance is dead and it’s your fault.” Jake tries to joke, his soft tone somehow coming out even softer as he waits for some type of response from you. 

“So, are we done fighting?” You ask meekly, tapping your finger against your phone and looking up at the ceiling with a smile that by now, you can’t escape. “Since you’ve just expressed your undying love for me and I very much wouldn’t mind going on a date with you so we can work this out face to face?” 

“Are you still going to fuck Sunghoon?” 

You laugh. 

“Oh yeah, for sure–” To his silence, you immediately take it back. “Oh my god, relax. It’s a joke.” 

“Get better jokes, asshole.” 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“What the fuck?” Jake deadpans into the phone, his heart beating far too fast for his health, but vibing with it anyway because by tomorrow night, he’ll be next to you again. “You seriously had sex with her?!” 

“Hey, she’s the one who called me.” Sunghoon shrugs as he listens. “To be fair, Jake, I did tell her that someone else had dibs on her.”

Jake slaps his forehead and rolls his eyes. 

“You’re such a dick– I told you at least three hundred times that I like her! I don’t have dibs.” He gripes, trying to pretend that he’s not imagining Sunghoon with you, the person he wants the most. 

“Damn right you don’t, because she seemed to have a great t–” 

“Sunghoon, stop. I don’t want to know what happened, but like, stop texting her.” 

Sunghoon’s brow raises in curiosity. 

“Ah, did you finally make a move?”

If there’s anything Jake knows Sunghoon won’t do, it’s go for a woman that is actually unavailable. He has his fun, and he’s not one to turn anyone down if he has an interest in them, bro code be damned. And yeah, he’s still a little pissed at him for hooking up with you…but, it is true, Jake made you feel like he wasn’t even an option in his attempts to be a gentleman. 

Still, boundaries need to be set now. Real boundaries.

“I did, and I would really appreciate it if you back off. I’m trying to make something out of this, you know?”

Sunghoon lightens up, sighing at his loss of a would be fuck-buddy that seemed more promising than some he’s had in the past. 

“Jesus, you’re serious about her aren’t you?” He smirks as he speaks, feeling proud of Jake for finally stepping up for himself. “I mean, I can totally see why. Please excuse me as I mourn that sweet, sweet, pu-” 

“Sunghoon.” Jake warns. “Shut the fuck up.” 

“Relax, jesus.” Sunghoon plays it cool, though he actually is mourning it a little bit. “Good on you though. I’ll back off, don’t worry.” 

Jake rolls his eyes yet again, his love-hate relationship with Sunghoon becoming more fond than ever by this point. Only because the confidence he had in himself before all of this wasn’t entirely where it needed to be. It’s true that he wasn’t exactly a pussy eating god before, nor could he even say he’s amazing at sex but, when it comes to you, he can’t help but be excited. He wants to do it all, be it all for you. 

Never in his life has he eaten pussy like that, and never in your life have you felt a mouth so eager to please between your legs. 

Sunghoon could have been something, but he couldn’t have been Jake, ever. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The day couldn’t go by any slower than it already has. 

Jake comes home tonight, and by home, you mean to your apartment where he doesn’t live. 

Your mind goes in loops on what could possibly happen. Scenarios of him getting cold feet and ignoring that any of this happened at all again. Scenes of him unlocking your door, closing in on you, and kissing you before you can even say “hello”. Images of his hands on you, his mouth on you, what it would feel like if he were to…well, oh.

You snap yourself out of it, every bad scenario in your head gets replaced with one where you’ve got Jake working himself on and inside of you. It’s making you feel hot, insane, and entirely too horny for the proposed date night full of talking that needs to be had first. 

Then you freeze, your hand on the handle of your mug as you wonder a bit too hard. 

What if he doesn’t show up at all? 

You did run off the second he left the city and fuck one of your mutual friends. Arguably, you were equally as bad at communicating with him as he was to you during the past few weeks. Sure, you flirted, but was that even enough when he literally put his tongue inside of you “as a friend”? 

God, he’d have every right to not show up. To move on, to never speak to you again. 

You’ve been so stupid. Both of you have, stumbling together but apart into something neither of you could even begin to navigate. For you? Sex is easy. Feelings though? That’s where it gets complicated. Yet, still, you find yourself more willing than ever to let these feelings roam free if he accepts them at face value. 

Solely because of how shitty it felt when you were trying to pretend that Jake was nothing but a one time thing for his sake. 

And when the time comes, after hours of brooding, getting worked up, and feeling insane, you’re looking like a mess when he knocks on your door. So much for looking good for him. You’re an absolute fucking wreck when you open that door and dead-pan stare at him and his bags. 

“Hi,” He smiles, not quite making eye contact because he really is kind of embarrassed by all of this. “I’m here.” 

You step back from the door, eyes remaining on him. 

“You’re here.” You say quietly, watching him step into your apartment and drop his bags. 

You feel his breath before you hear his voice. So much closer than just moments before, right up against your ear, and his arms wrapping tightly around you. 

“Felt like I was gone for too long–” He whines slightly against you, breathing in a breath and taking in your scent. “Didn’t know I could miss you like that.” 

You fucking melt. Out of all of those scenarios and fantasies in your head, this wasn’t one of them. Which goes to show that Jake is the one person in this world who can surprise you time and time again. You’ve hugged him like this hundreds of times, but this one, oh this one. He feels so close after feeling so fucking far away.

“You were gone for two days,” You smile, nuzzling against him and gripping his waist in your own hug. 

“Two days too long, though.” You feel him smile, that little upturn of his lips pushing his cheek up and against you as he chuckles and pulls back.  “We don’t have a lot of time, but we can still make it to the restaurant if you still want to go? I can shower when we get back.”

You pull back, offering him a small nod and feeling a bit let down. You wanted more, especially after that hug. The fact that he can contain himself right now feels isolating. Are you the only one who has a vibrating brain right now? He really wants to have the conversation at the restaurant? 

He really wants to do this the right way?

You look like shit, but arguably he might think he looks worse considering the long trip back to you. Still, the restaurant is the chosen option to have this conversation, and you’re ready to get it over with so that finally the two of you can take a step forward. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The restaurant is nice. There’s a buzz of conversations surrounding the two of you but most of it feels muffled because the only sound you can truly hear is Jake’s hushed and awkward attempts to get the ball rolling. 

“So, I guess that’s why I went to my parent’s house. It’s embarrassing, I know–” He says before you cut him off. 

“Tell me how you felt the past few weeks when we were together.” You say boldly, wanting so badly to have the confirmation that he really does want this, and that he suffered much like you did.

You watch a fan of rosy tint cross his cheeks as he breaks eye contact with you, looking to the table and then back up at you. 

“Okay, um–” He stiffens a bit, glancing around to make sure no one is looking or listening in. “When we weren’t together, it was a lot easier for me to think, but when we were together, I could only really think about one thing.” He admits, nodding to himself. 

You look at him curiously before you see his eyes light up in panic.

“No! No, no. Not like, sex…” He looks down. “I mean, yeah maybe sex too but mostly I just couldn’t stop thinking about ways to make you want me more than anyone else.” 

Your heart swells at his panicked save, and then the words that follow. 

“I think I already did want you more than anyone else.” You admit back to him. “Even if I didn’t know I had feelings until you did that to me– I’m sorry it took me so long to realize.”

He smiles, reaching over the table as if to ask for your hand. 

“What about you? What did you think about when we were together after that night?” He asks for his own confirmation now. 

“Sex. Mostly, I guess. I felt like no one else would ever be able to make me feel that good again.” You look away, feeling ashamed and seen. “Goddamn, I sound so dramatic.”

Jake snorts, laughing at how he should have expected this but the confidence boost is a happy surprise to him. 

“To be fair though, Jake, I think I had my feelings and my lust for you mixed up.” You continue. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I still feel both of those things every time I see you, or even think of you.”

“Feelings and lust?” He nods with a smile and wiggling his eyebrows, his eyes glistening in the warm lighting of the restaurant. 

You nod in confirmation, side eyeing the waitress who walks over to take down your order. 

Both of you are somehow dissociated outside of each other, there’s no way you’re not because you don’t recall what you ordered, nor what he ordered, and he appears to be feeling much the same. The moment she walks away, he’s continuing. 

“I was really that good, huh?” A smirk from him, and a nod from you. 

“What about right now then? How do you feel when you look at me?” He follows up, looking down at the table. 

“Both of those things.” You dead-pan, squeezing your legs together as you look at him and feel the warmth radiating from even this far away. The confirmation of feelings is enough by itself to have your thoughts in the gutter about him, especially after weeks of wanting him. 

Especially after having to be in this stupid fucking restaurant in the first place.

He quirks a brow before lowering his voice, his eyes drooping a bit. 

“Do you have any fucking idea how badly I’ve wanted to get my mouth on you?” 

God, there he is. That same bold best friend who originally suggested eating you out in the first place. Not entirely unfounded that he said it, but fuck, your cheeks are searing. 

“Jake, we’re in public.” You warn, knowing damn well that you’ve not been able to think of anything else either, but for the sake of the foundation of this relationship, you want to tame yourself a little bit.

“Since we started hanging out, every fucking time.” He continues, ignoring your warning. “I would get so mad when you’d go to your little hook-ups. Sometimes I even wondered if you did it intentionally to piss me off.” 

Your cheeks are still hot, but now there’s a bit of guilt filling you. 

“You really had no idea how badly I wanted that to be me?” He continues with his streak of confidence, unintentionally dirty talking to you solely because he, genuinely, cannot deny his attraction or his feelings for you by this point. “Even right now, I want nothing more than to have you to myself.”

You pause, the guilt leaving you in an instant as it’s fully replaced with Jake’s eagerness to have you in full, finally. 

“Why–” You sigh, dropping your head into your hands to hide your face from him. “Why are we at this restaurant again?” 

You feel his hand reach back over to you, removing your hands from your face and dipping down to look at you. 

“It’s so fucking hard to contain myself right now. I can admit that.” He whispers, blinking at you. “If you feel satisfied with where we stand, I’d be more than happy to leave this table now and prove everything to you.”

An instant nod from you, and an instant confirmation from Jake. 

You’re both out of the restaurant before a single sip of water, before a single visual inspection of the forgotten food the two of you ordered, and before any doubt could creep in to ruin the electrifying atmosphere you were indulging in with him. 

For Jake, his self control wavers with each passing moment as you sit next to him in the car. You look so calm as he drives as quickly and safely as possible back to your apartment, shaming himself for ever considering the two of you go in the first place. Still, the outcome is somehow more satisfying. Both of you wanting to leave just so you can truly be alone together? He couldn’t ask for a better night. 

Still, your calmness contrasts the way his insides vibrate the closer he gets to your place, and he wonders how the fuck you manage to do it. If you were to simply glance at him at the right moment, you’d see his entire body melt in the fantasies of what the two of you may be willing to do tonight. 

Years worth of pining in his head and heart are bubbling up now. You’re inviting him in, you’re accepting him, you’re wanting him back. 

What he doesn’t know though, is that you are quite literally imagining yourself wrapped in chains to this seat. Why? Because if it weren’t for those astral chains, you’d be on top of him in an instant, reassuring him that if there’s anything in the world you’ve wanted within the past few weeks, it’s him. You’d be apologizing for never taking note of his feelings before, and kissing away all of the moments he wished he could have had with you before, replacing them with very real, firm, hot kisses. 

Thankfully though, you manage to tame the beast from within and somehow, so does he. Up until you get through your apartment door and the electrifying atmosphere sizzles away in an instant. 

You expected to have the confidence to, quite literally, jump on him as soon as your door closed. Instead, you find yourself standing in awe at the entryway. 

Jake, on the other hand, would love nothing more than to have you right this moment, speeding and parking crooked be damned, he will not allow it just yet. 

“Listen,” He reaches out to you, pulling you up and against his chest. “I need to shower before I let myself do anything.” 

You breathe a sigh of relief, noting that the awkwardness came from the fact that Jake’s energy is seeping out of him, lust and worry for possibly not being as clean as he’d like to be for this. 

It feels strange, actually. You can imagine you’ve had many hook-ups with men who wouldn’t even consider a shower before inviting you over. 

“Hurry up then, before I decide to call Sungh-” 

“Don’t you fucking dare make that joke right now,” Jake squeezes you tighter against you, hating himself for constantly bringing up reasons to wait. 

“If we are going to like,” He pauses, struggling to say it out of pure nervousness that you might change your mind. “You know, be exclusive, Sunghoon’s name is forbidden.”

You chuckle against him before shoving him back in a playful way. 

“Deal. Now, can you fucking hurry?” You roll your eyes playfully, internally a little thankful for the short moments you will have to prepare yourself for this. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Damn this shower for feeling so good. Jake could fall asleep under the warmth if it weren’t for the fact that he’s been half-hard this entire time and truly fighting with himself on how to approach this situation.

It’s kind of awkward, actually. Knowing exactly what the two of you are about to do but having to wait even for fifteen minutes makes it seem like you both have a scheduled hook up and nothing more. 

It’s not a hook up though. Jake is finally where he’s always wanted to be with you, in your shower priming his body to go absolutely fucking insane on you. Before, when he ate you out, he really was controlling himself. He wanted to do more with you so bad, and now? God…

He’s flushed as he finally makes his way out of the shower, length still stiffening and softening with each thought that passes. He can barely look at himself in the mirror without wanting to laugh at how embarrassing he truly is. 

You’d probably laugh too, and he’d love the sound of it. 

Then, he’s faced with a dilemma. 

You, on the other hand, find yourself lying quietly in your bedroom after doing your best to fix the mess of yourself for whatever Jake may offer. Waiting for him, and ultimately wondering what the fuck is taking him so long when you finally hear the bathroom door open.

Faintly, you can smell your shampoo and body wash that he used as you hear him make his way to the living room and not find you. 

Then, you hear him making his way to your room. He doesn’t open the door any further than it already was and instead, stands behind it quietly before muttering out. 

“Um,” He starts, putting his hand on your door and only peeking his head in. “I wasn’t sure if there was a point to putting my clothes on–” 

Fucking pause.

God, he must sound so stupid saying that, especially after looking into your room and seeing you lying against your bed changed into the exact same pajamas you put on the night he initially made a move on you through the guise of friendship. 

Well, now it’s not even a question and he was right to assume that all he needed to do was wrap a towel around his waist and come to you. 

You watch his eyes travel your body curiously, a smile forming on his face.

“If you’re wondering if I put panties on this time too,” You smile, reaching a hand out as if to invite him to open that door and come have at it. “I didn’t.”

That’s all it takes, really, to have him pushing the door open and not-so-calmly making his way to your bed. 

Seeing his naked and damp chest is one thing, but smelling your scent all over him is another, especially when the first thing he does is practically envelop you with his body and plant his lips straight on your own. 

The first real kiss. Despite his lips having been on you before, you melt into it and find yourself forgetting how differently he’s acting now compared to before. He was so confident, so cocky, and now he’s almost docile. Meek. 

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” He leans back to whisper, adjusting his body so that he’s more comfortable and leaning down on one arm while the other holds your cheek. “Can’t believe you let me eat you out before ever letting me actually kiss you.”

Your face heats up at the comment, making you feel more scandalous than you ever truly tried to be. But he’s not wrong, and you regret making him feel like eating you out was the only way to get to your heart.

Strangely though, it was the way to your heart. Him doing that for you practically threw you into the deep end in search for more, from him, specifically. 

“Can’t believe you decided that you should just eat me out rather than admit your feelings for me.” You counter with a smile, lifting your head to kiss against him again and pretending you can’t feel the weight of his length under the loosely knotted towel on his waist. 

“Well, it worked, didn’t it?” He says through the kisses, quickly losing the ability to speak when you lick against his bottom lip and, ultimately, take control of the act.

He wonders what your mouth could do to him. His entire body reacts to the way your tongue flicks and licks against his own, it takes everything in him to try and control himself from pushing too far too soon– until he realizes that there is no reason to control himself now. 

Never has making out gotten him this turned on, and it’s not a surprise because it’s you. 

He half moans, half chuckles into your kiss when he does it, pressing his hips down and against your thigh much like he did previously to the very mattress he’s got you lying against. 

“There’s so much I want to do,” He finally admits, pulling back from the kiss and hanging his head to feel how his cock reacts to the flesh of your thigh. “Please, let me do all of it.” 

You sigh, somehow feeling a pang of arousal radiate between your legs despite not yet being touched there. The weight of him on you is enough, and all you can do is nod and await the ways he intends to relieve himself with you.

Hours of head, he could give. Even more hours of burying his cock between those pretty lips and watching you return the favor for him. His confidence grows as your body moves under him, waiting, waiting, waiting for what he will do next. 

First, he plants another kiss to you, pressing his hips hard against your thigh with a breathy sigh before moving his lips down, against your neck. 

At the same time, his hands work their way up your loose shirt, cupping one breast in his palm and easily teasing your nipple with his fingers. He works his lips down the center of your clothed chest, down to your stomach, and then up again. His nose nudges your shirt up with each kiss, until his lips replace his fingers and he’s sucking your nipple into his mouth.

You’ve never felt so wanted in your life with the way he appears to be savoring you. Leaving his own pleasure neglected once again, his entire focus is on you. You arch your back up a bit, hands shooting to his head and cradling it there against your breast. 

He groans when you scratch against the nape of his neck, wiggling your hips under him and chasing the sensation that his mouth manages to send to your clit. He groans again when your nipple remains firm between his lips, and he begins to nibble. 

And this time, he moans when he manages to trail one of his hands down just to see how much it will take of this to get you wet. He tucks one hand under your shorts, only to find that you’re already dripping, soaking his fingers with a mere single slide up your folds.

“Fuck,” He sighs as if it’s a compliment when he pops his mouth off of you, flicking his head up to look at your already dazed eyes. “Already?” 

You glance away, embarrassed by how badly you want the man who was once your best friend, and is now….more than that. You can feel his fingers graze and gently play around with the heat your body has already released for him, rolling your eyes back each time he pretends he’s going to offer pressure to your clit. 

He’s fucking teasing you, and you know it.

He knows it too, because of fucking course he is. After years of torture, wondering if you’d ever manage to get wet at all with the thought of him, here you are, dripping under him when all he’s done is kiss you and fondle your nipples. 

Briefly, he remembers how needy your hips were when his tongue was seeping into you. He remembers the taste of each thrust you pressed against his face, and the smell of how badly you needed him at the time. 

As used as he was by you that night, he wants nothing more now than to pull those same desperate moans from you, to taste the wet inside of you that no man ever managed to release for you. 

“I feel like I’m going insane,” He finally breathes out, still toying with your folds and keeping an eye on the way your eyes glare back at him. “I want you so fucking bad–” He stutters now, instantly sliding his fingers into you and scooting down on the bed at lightening speed, pressing your loose shorts to the side just to get the taste of you against his lips again.

Your legs instantly shoot over his shoulders, and one of his hands reaches up to hug your thigh against him as his tongue immediately laps at every dip and crease of your cunt. His eyes nearly roll back at being able to experience this again, his fingers holding firm without a single movement just so he can feel your body confirm that you want him just as much. 

The clench around his fingers are enough, and he licks around them only for a moment before returning his lips to your clit and giving you all he’s got. 

All he can feel is your legs tightening around his head, nearly lifting your ass up and off of the bed, all he can hear is his own moans vibrating through him each time he hears you react. 

Arguably, even after that brief moment of teasing from him, feeling his mouth so eager, much like before, sent you straight into a blissed state and made you forget about the restaurant, the shower, the weeks of pining before this. His mouth is so warm, and his vibrating moans sooth your clit through its desperate attempts to beg for more. 

You can’t help the fact that your legs hug his head, or the way your hands shoot down much like before, scratching through his hair before dropping down and spreading yourself open with two fingers solely to expose your clit in full to the assault of his tongue he’s giving you. 

He missed you so much, he missed this so much. Never again will he leave you wondering, from this point forward, you should be well aware that if you so much as pushed him to his knees and lifted a leg over his shoulder, he’d be eating like a fucking king. 

Still, even with his immense love for kissing your pussy until your legs shake, there’s more to be experienced here than just this. His pace slows with the reality of that, and only now does he move his fingers with intent, and he pulls back to see how you’re spreading yourself for him, even as your legs fall from his shoulders.

“Fuck.” He rasps, lips glistening with a mixture of his own saliva and your slick. 

You lend him a drunken smile, nodding slowly as you focus in on the way his fingers scissor you open. Within a blink though, his face is right there hovering above you, staring intently at the way you react to his fingers. 

“You look so good right now, you know that?” He compliments, leaning down again to plant a kiss against you, only pumping his fingers in faster when your kiss appears to be more hungry than his own. “God, I can feel you squeeze my fingers–” 

And it’s true, he’s seeing stars solely because he can feel the clench of your pussy walls pushing his two fingers together, almost pushing against his attempts to scissor you open and curl them into the spot inside he knows you have. He can only imagine how good that would feel if he were to…

His eyes squeeze shut in a drawn out moan at the thought, his own kiss growing more hungry as he releases the towel from his waist and quickens the pace of his fingers inside of you. 

You can feel him press his cock against you, and the weight of it only becomes heavier when his fingers pause inside of you just so he can slip them out and use those same slick-coated digits to hold his length down and against you before he slides it between your lips. Now coating himself in the same wet sensation. 

You listen closely to his moan, knowing that he seems fond of neglecting his own pleasure to the point of doing near-embarrassing things to get it back when he needs it the most. It’s strangled, almost. You can hear him swallow around it when he slides up harshly, bumping your clit and causing your shorts to stretch against the crease of your thigh. 

He seems so…desperate. Yet, he can have anything he wants. 

“Keep it spread open–” He mutters when he feels you try to remove the hand that had been holding your pussy out on display for him. “I want to feel all of it.”

God, you’ve never heard him say something so sexy. Easily you do as he says, now using both hands to hold either side of your pussy open for him, and feeling the underside of his length slide against your hole. 

You let out a pleased sigh, despite your shorts becoming a nuisance at this point. It’s easy to forget you’re still wearing them though, because they only become drenched more and more as the moments pass with Jake.

You can genuinely just assume that his cock must be aching as he does this, leaking all over you. That’s something you don’t mind at all, because the stimulation is far beyond what you could ever ask for. 

“Jake–” You try to speak, only to be cut off by his hand sliding under your head and his lips attaching yet again to you.

There, you can’t help it when you remove your hands and shoot them up to his face. Holding him there, feeling the way his jaw moves when he licks into your mouth in a desperate attempt to get as much of you as he can in this moment. 

His hips fuck forward much like they did into his palm all those weeks ago, and the anticipation of if or when he finally plunges it into you drives you to kiss him just as hard as he does you.

There is nothing but the sound of kissing in the room save for muffled moans from both of you, entirely tangled up together as he does nothing more than grind himself against you. His hand cradling your head and the other still pressing his length down and against you as close as he can manage. Yours, cupping his cheeks as he kisses you, up until you run one hand down to take over for him.

In that moment, with his free and now shaking hand, he pulls back entirely and just looks at you.

He’s out of it, entirely gone from this world as he stares down with his hair drying by the minute from that shower, messy as all hell with darkened hooded eyes. He continues to stare, each thrust against you becoming pointed to the extent that it almost feels like he’s already fucked you for hours. 

And then, you feel it. The weight lifting, your shorts being stretched until they’re sliding down your thighs and off of you, and then the warmth as he adjusts his hips just barely enough to line up with your quivering hole, practically begging for him to stretch you out for the first time. 

His eyes falter only for a moment when he realizes that this is a moment he will never forget. The way you look up at him with glassy and needy eyes, out of breath, seemingly loving him as much as he’s always loved you. 

“Yeah?” He whispers, not breaking eye contact even for a moment. 

“Please.” You mutter out, not fully intending for it to sound so broken.

And as broken as your voice was in that instance, he grows much weaker by it. Dropping his head with a deep sigh, a smile, and then a chuckle.

“You really, really, can’t look at me like that and expect me to be gentle…” He pauses to look at you again. “For your sake, please tell me to slow down.”

You can barely comprehend a word he’s saying when you can feel the head of his cock teasing where you need it the most. 

“Please.” You rasp out again, wrapping your legs around his waist and forcing his body forward, ultimately sliding the tip of his length into you yourself. 

“Oh, fuck–” He chokes out before sucking in a breath and letting out a moan at the feeling. His body jerks at the sensation, the sound of your voice, the way you pulse around him. “Fuck, so good.” He continues to mutter, controlling himself for only a few seconds longer just to see if you have the ability to understand that he truly and honestly will not have the ability to go easy on you at this point. 

“Deeper.” You plead, squeezing your legs tighter around him, uncaring of his attempt to control the situation. 

That’s all it takes. Your broken voice already had him shaking, and now he’s giving up any and all control that he could have possibly hoped to have. 

Right there, with your legs hugging his waist, your hands gripping the pillow behind your head, and his hands finding purchase on either side of your shoulders, he sinks himself into you as deep as he can go and feels as if the life is being choked out of him over how fucking good it feels. 

He throws his head back in an erotic and attractive moan of relief, allowing you a glimpse at the expanse of his stretched neck, naked of any marked territory. Still, your vision goes white when the stretch hits you.

So big, so strong on top of you. You can imagine he really could fuck you hard, you hope he doesn’t go gentle on you at all, actually

“Shit, please,” You moan brokenly again, releasing your pillow and gripping his forearms. “Jake, god–” You have no words to describe how good he feels inside of you, you couldn’t begin to fathom trying to explain to him how perfect he is. 

It feels deep, deeper than you ever could have imagined. His length alone should have been enough to tell you that, but you hadn’t yet factored in the girth of it. So heavy inside of you, touching each soft and sensitive surface your pussy has to offer. 

Your body jolts in adjustment, knocking the breath out of you despite him not moving just yet. 

“Shh–” He soothes, not at all actually wanting to hush your cries for him. In fact, he’s simply saying it because he could quite literally release at any moment if you continue to speak and clench him like this. And when he finally looks down at you, he can’t fucking help it.

His hips move at their own volition, and he was right in believing there is no gentle fuck to be had here. He slides out only slightly, with the intent to fuck you as full of him as he can. He wants to stay deep, because you asked, and he wants to keep you feeling stretched around him because he can truly never get over the way you look and sound right now. 

You shake at the feeling of him pressing impossibly deeper into you, keeping his hips flush against you before snapping his hips back more now. A slightly empty feeling inside of you being filled once again within a second. 

His moans sound beautiful, he feels beautiful, and all you can do is stare up at him with watery eyes and a slack jaw, wondering why it took him so long to do this with you.

Wondering why it took you so long to want it at all, when now, you think you could never feel this good with another person again. 

His arms flex in your grasp with each thrust, and his eyes land on each visible part of your body before he weakens his stance and lowers himself to you, hips still fucking you open at a pace that’s only becoming more and more rapid, more and more fucking blinding. 

“Yeah, yeah–” Jake suddenly chimes with out of breath words, kissing you before you can comprehend or respond to those words. “No one has ever reacted like this for me–” He continues, pointing his thrusts harder into you. “Feels so good, so tight around me.” He chokes up at the last few words, stuttering his and picking up a different pace.

This time, those harsh thrusts pull back further, emptying you before slowly pressing into you again. 

“I want you to remember how this feels,” He continues, seemingly rambling against your lips with each slow thrust. “No one will ever fuck you like I will.” 

Your hooded eyes shoot open with arousal at his confident boasting. Those words feel so final, as if it isn’t even a rule, but a logical fact that only the two of you could ever find to be true. 

You can’t even manage a response, and instead moan before tucking your lips up and against his neck, using one hand to grip his hair and skew his head. 

That once naked and markless neck is no more. He is yours, and you’re lucky enough now to know that this is exactly how he wants you to feel. 

“Ahh, you like that?” He questions your reaction to his words, feeling your hips make attempts to meet him halfway with each thrust. “You like when I talk?” He continues to urge your sucking lips to speak out to him, to answer him, to boost his ego just a bit more. 

“So much,” You nearly whimper against his neck, moving your lips to another spot. “Love when you’re confident like this–”

He’s in heaven hearing those words. As if it’s a confirmation that he wasn’t just talking dirty. You both truly take those words and will fuck by them from this point forward. He truly doesn’t want anyone else, and hopefully, you’d never give another person the chance to make an attempt to fuck you the way he does. 

And then the room falls silent again, as if Jake is focused on reminding you with each passing second that he’s never been more sure or right of something in his life. Despite you already believing him, the way his cock pulses inside of you is enough of a reminder even if he had never said it in the first place. 

His pace quickens again, and then slows, and then stutters. Only to fall back into a good rhythm before his entire body starts to shake through the act. 

You wonder if this is it. Is this how his body reacts when he’s about to cum? Is this what his face looks like? Is this what his eyes do? Did his arms strain like this the first time? Did his moans come out as choked and desperate? 

None of that matters, because as quickly as it started, he buries himself into you again and stays in that one spot, shaking and timidly looking down at you. 

“Don’t move, please, don’t move.” He practically begs, losing himself to the way your hips chase the feeling of constant stimulation. “Stop moving.” He pleads again, pulling his chest from you and sitting up on his knees, keeping his cock in place deep within you. 

You watch him, unable to keep your hips still, and he watches you– trying to keep his orgasm under control before seeing your fingers trail down your stomach and to your clit.

There, he loses himself, watching you rub the soft spot just above where his cock stuffs you full. 

“I can’t,” He chokes out, snapping his hips back and allowing himself to get lost in the feeling. “Fuck, I really can’t.” He continues to mutter out, pressing his strings of cum ever deeper inside of you as he feels every muscle in his body tense. 

It feels so sensitive, but he can’t stop moving, feeling his cum fill you up to the point it’s surely being pressed out of you by his desperate length wanting nothing more than to stay inside of you.

You moan through it with him, encouraging him to lose himself inside of you, and he’s so beautiful when he does it. The fact that he does it at all has your body tensing on its own. Teetering on the edge of your own orgasm with the way your fingers almost aggressively chase after the feeling he appears to still be releasing inside of you.

And then, emptiness. You are left empty and dripping, fingers still chasing your release before–

“What the fu–” You moan, squeezing your eyes shut at the feeling of his tongue instantly back on you. As if he’s looping back to the beginning of it all, uncaring of tasting himself solely because through it all, he can still taste you. “Jake, Fuck–yes, right there.” You continue to groan when he replaces his tongue against your hole with his fingers, fucking into you as quickly as he can before nudging your fingers away and taking over the chase of your orgasm. 

You’re entirely amazed by how eager he is to pull it from you, and that alone is enough. The desperate ways in which he decided to pleasure you right in this moment, it’s enough.

Your hands instantly reach for his hair, gripping so tightly that you can hear the pained sound he lets out at the sheer force behind it. You very nearly rub his nose in the mess he’s made of you out of the sheer arousal you feel through your orgasm. 

You’re seeing white, feeling his fingers expertly work you open and somehow don’t feel disappointed at all that you didn’t get there before he pulled out of you. You can still feel him dripping out, fingers squelching and sliding through the mixture of both orgasms inside of you. And his tongue, good lord his fucking tongue, licking up every bit and eagerly flicking your clit at a pace much faster than he offered before.

And now, you find your legs nearly kicking him across the room. As soon as the orgasm subsides, your body goes into overdrive with the overwhelming sensitivity between your legs and all he can do is laugh at the way you practically do kick him.

Right off the bed, actually, he tumbles. 

You lay there, staring into space as you attempt to bring yourself back to reality when you see his messy hair and glistening eyes peek from the edge of your bed at you. His shoulders huffing with each deep breath he takes. 

“Jesus fucking christ.” You manage to gasp out, spread eagle and almost completely naked on your bed save for the forgotten shirt that’s still pushed up to your collarbone. 

He makes his way back up to you, pressing your legs together, lowering your shirt, and planting his heavy dead-weight right on top of you. 

A solid ten minutes pass as the two of you lay there in the mess you’ve both created. Heavy breaths turn to easy, balanced breaths together. You can barely hold your eyes open when he finally rolls off of you and right up against your side. 

“Can I ask you something?” He mutters, throat dry and stomach growling embarrassingly loud. 

“Hm?” You hum out, entirely ready to just sleep in the mess.

“Are you always like that?” He questions, a little hint of doubt breaking his confidence. “Like, did Sunghoon see you act like that too?” 

You crack your eyes open and instantly turn to face him. 

“You’re insane if you think Sunghoon is that good. I’ve never used the word ‘please’ in my life.”

Jake glances away, thinking to himself and letting those words sink in.

“Well,” He starts, pausing and feeling that little pit in his stomach return. “That’s a lie because I’ve heard you use your manners at least twice in the years I’ve known you.” 

You smile, loving that the two of you can still be somewhat catty and playful even after the fact that you just realized how insanely in love with him you are. 

“Jake, no one has ever made me act like this in bed.” You try to reassure him. “I don’t think anyone else could, besides you.”

He smiles with a nod, running his hands down your body before pausing at the half dried cum that managed to make its way up to your stomach. And then? He groans. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

It’s insane really, that all it took for you to fall in love with the person you think you were always meant to love was him admitting it. Even more insane that he decided to take the route that involved faux playful head, with no feelings attached despite his feelings being deeply fucking attached. 

Still, the route taken to get to this point, he thinks, is fitting for the two of you. Especially now that he can look at Sunghoon without wanting to strangle him, and he can look at you knowing you’d very much invite him to strangle you, you know, considering the fact that you’re now trying to explore every sexual realm in the fucking universe with him.

Even with the desperate need to have you under him any chance he gets, and the fucking, and the arousal, none of it shines brighter than the small intimate moments he has with you that aren’t weighed down by pining or lust. 

As playful as the two of you are together, there is so much love here. So much love to still be discovered too, and he can’t help but feel excited by it. 

Romance isn’t dead, despite how the two of you tried to fucking butcher it. 

[lucyandthepen]

last young renegade | jjh

summary: your valentine’s day plans with jaehyun may have gone down the drain just a little. (okay — a lot.)

pairing: jaehyun x reader verse: canon, idol!verse rating: t warnings&tags: reader & jaehyun are in an established relationship, quite frankly there is nothing too out of the ordinary in this fic which is a shocker, it’s a rewritten fic so pls excuse any errors I may not have caught! word count: 5.02k

a/n: happy 2024 friends and family !!!!!! and advanced happy birthday to the man who created valentine’s day, he who is perhaps my first love in nct, jaehyun! this is actually just a fic I’ve been hoping to re-write a bit from before, and since it’s valentine’s themed, what better time to post it!! Enjoy enjoy, and may this year bring more fun, laughs, love (and debauchery) to this blog!

Yᴏᴜ sᴀɪᴅ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ sɪᴄᴋ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛɪʀᴇᴅ ᴏғ ɪᴛ, ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢ, ɴɪɢʜᴛ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴀʏ.

♡ jaehyunnie ♡ I know I said birthday dinner but practice is running so late ㅠㅠ ♡ jaehyunnie ♡ Can we meet after? I’m sorry ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ How about I call you when we’re done? Maybe 11:30?

At times like this, you often wonder if it’s all worth it.  

You know thinking that way is counterproductive, not to mention a little unfair. You knew exactly what to expect, getting into an under-wraps relationship with an idol, and so far, it’s lived up to most of your assumptions, and then some. It doesn’t help that Jaehyun, even just by name, tends to attract an unbelievable amount of attention. You know you can’t blame him; it’s not like he wants to be high on the radar every time, either. For some reason, though, you seem to be looking for something or someone to blame, which you also know is a dead end. You have no one to pin the blame onto apart from yourself by frequently generating doubts that keep your mind running around in circles.  

It’s not even the sneaking around that gets tiring; it’s the waiting — waiting on calls, waiting on free time, waiting on a good opportunity to do something that doesn’t involve him suddenly getting pulled out to attend to one of many of his celebrity responsibilities. Over the last few years that you’ve dated, NCT has only ever gotten more popular; with that popularity came the fact that the public eye was trained on them, focusing on every microscopic detail of their lives. Jaehyun hates that more than anything, which is why he’s given up on trying to avoid it by practically escaping it altogether, locking himself up in the dorm with you when he has his precious few days off. 

While it’s true that you definitely don’t miss having to play espionage when going out for a cup of coffee with him, you’ve also managed to memorize every single inch of Jaehyun’s room, which isn’t good for your mentality, you’re pretty sure. You have to keep reminding him to open the window whenever the both of you are in there, because all you do is stay in and watch English movies without subtitles to see who can understand the most without asking questions (obviously, he always wins) while eating food he runs up and down the stairs to get every other hour. And while him trying to imitate the British accents on these shows is genuinely funny, you’re starting to suspect even he’s starting to get tired of watching Harry Potter over and over again. Twenty hours sounds like a long time unless you spend every twenty-hour period you have together marathoning the exact same films. Much to both of your disappointment, your suggestion to watch it totally out of order did not make it cooler.

Still, you suppose it’s not all bad. Jaehyun also taught you how to play Fortnite on a couple of his days off back to back, and while you hadn’t been as good a player as you both had hoped, he’d still patiently waited for you every time you got lost on the map. He’d even given you his account’s password with the sentiment that this was him ‘taking things to the next level with you,’ and you get to log into his account and play whenever you want; he doesn’t even get mad when you’ve wasted all the stuff he’s farmed on your subpar gaming skills. And, well, the bigger picture was that you loved him. Based on how much effort he put into the relationship, plus the bonus of his trust in you when it came to his Fortnite account, you could at least be confident in that he returned the sentiment.  

Except, sometimes, you still wonder if it would be easier for the both of you if he flew solo and didn’t have a girlfriend that tanked all of his player’s ammo and health kits and generally made a fool out of his cute little avatar while he was out breaking his back onstage.  

You aren’t sure if Jaehyun’s been noticing the turmoil in you; you’re not that good at hiding how you feel, anyway, but if he has, he hasn’t said anything thus far. You do observe how much more he texts you when he has free time, which makes you feel doubly bad, because you know that he’s spending precious minutes he could be resting with on talking to you instead, which isn’t the best trade-off for someone who’s constantly busy — and thereby constantly tired — like him.  

♡ jaehyunnie♡ ___________ I’m going to practice again, okay? Wait for my call ㅠㅠ You I’ll wait for your call ♡ ♡ jaehyunnie♡ I love you ㅠㅠㅠㅠ ♡ jaehyunnie♡ You love me too — a lot, right? I’ll keep my phone now, but I’ll make sure to check that you said so. ㅋㅋㅋ You Right! ㅎ I love you a lot! ♡

When the clock hits 12:01, and your phone is silent, your mind starts working on overtime again. It’s only when the special ringtone you’ve set for him comes to life at half-past midnight that you break your train of thought and put on your socks so you can meet Jaehyun at your front door.  

You’ve made a rule — sort of like a deal — between the two of you that apologies aren’t necessary when work holds you up. You’ve cashed in on that deal a couple of times, but you’re both aware that it’s more for Jaehyun’s sake than anything else, and he keeps to his word on that much when you open the door and duck into his car. All he does is smile at you, and you smile back, and for the rest of the car ride, everything seems okay.  

He always asks you about your day — unfailingly, at any chance he can. It’s never an off-handed question, either; Jaehyun takes great pride in his memory, and the sweetest thing about him is that he’s dedicated a good deal of it to knowing almost everything about you. Right now is no different. He asks you about your team manager, what you had for lunch; he grills you on if you took your vitamins today and if you got to break in the new shoes you bought online — the ones you’d been pining over for the last three months. He even asks you about the guy from the neighboring department who keeps asking you out for after-work drinks.  

“He wanted to go to Hongdae tonight,” you tell him as he slows for a red light. “There’s some new pub of his friend’s doing a soft opening there tonight.”  

“You could have gone.” He keeps his eyes on the road. “I wouldn’t have minded.”  

“I didn’t want to.”

“Good.” He glances at you, a grin slowly spreading on his lips. “Because I lied. I might have minded a little. Or, you know, a lot.”  

“Don’t tell me after all these years, you’ve turned into the kind of boyfriend that doesn’t let his girlfriend go out without him.”

“That’s impossible for me, and you know that,” he chuckles. “You can do whatever you want, whenever you want. Just not with that guy from the other department.”

“Don’t worry.” You tinker with the little charm dangling on your phone — half of a flat, metal heart dangling from a gold chain that Jaehyun had given you two years back on your birthday. He keeps the other half, but since he can’t freely attach it to any of his belongings, he keeps it wedged between the back of his phone and its case. You like watching him change the backing because he does it so carefully, like he’s worried the other half of the heart is going to break if he rips off the case willy nilly. “I told him my boyfriend and I were going out on a date tonight, so he backed off. Although he did wonder why I keep talking about a boyfriend he’s never seen.”

“And? What did you say?”

“I said it was none of his damn business.”  

Jaehyun laughs loudly, and you go along with him, but you don’t miss how tired he looks when he sobers down, the green light illuminating all the shadows on his face as he steps on the gas again.

Nothing good is open this late at night — that is, nothing you haven’t seen before. You hadn’t even expected to go out at all, but since it was the day before Valentine’s Day as well as his birthday (or it would have been, if you hadn’t waited until midnight), Jaehyun had wanted to do something special without having to run into a huge crowd of couples on the day itself. Your only option is this from-out-of-town carnival that’s set up in tents and even has a medium-sized ferris wheel by the edge of the metal barricade. The parking lot is practically empty when Jaehyun pulls into a slot; you joke that he should break one rule and park in two slots, which he smugly replies to by saying he couldn’t park badly even if he tried.  

He tucks your hair back behind your ears as he loops the strings of a face mask around them, using another one for himself. Between that and the brim of his cap, you can barely see his eyes. The only knowledge that you have that you’re walking next to the man you love is that he takes your hand in his, slender fingers finding their way between yours.  

The carnival is half-closed when you get to the middle of it; there are still a few stragglers, but half the kiosks have their lights off already. There’s a woman dressed in flashy clothes standing on a patch of dead grass a few feet away, and she’s holding a hoop that a ginger cat is jumping through. Jaehyun steers you to them, and you stand there for a good five minute watching the cat roll on the ground and stand on its hind legs, but you can tell it’s been going it at for most of the day because at one point, it just ignores the lady, opting to weave its way between Jaehyun’s and your legs instead. You do have a pretty good time when he picks it up and cradles it in his arms so you can pet it for a second, but it just hisses when its owner approaches and jumps out of his hold, disappearing behind a row of trash bins.  

Jaehyun doesn’t have anything in his wallet apart from his credit cards and 50,000 won, and the coin machine operator says he only has enough coins left to break down 5,000 won for the games, so you end up having to jog back to his car so you can fish out some coins from inside his glove compartment. You come up with a grand total of 1,500 won, and you have to sheepishly go back to the coin machine operator to change four 100 coins and a couple of 50s just to get the last 500. Jaehyun tells you to hold onto the three coins so he doesn’t run off with them entirely and leave you destitute.  

You learn you can only do three things at most — you dedicate 500 won for the Ferris wheel entry tickets, which leaves you with 500 won each. The both of you agree on choosing one kiosk to play in, and with only about five left that are open, you don’t really have that many options. You end up dragging Jaehyun over to a stall with a pond filled with those magnetic toy fish, but 500 won only gets you one fishing rod. Since it’s your choice, Jaehyun lets you play, but you feel kind of stupid doing it on your own with him just watching you. In the end, he decides to stand behind you, his arms around your waist like he thinks closer contact isn’t even more distracting. You do manage to fish out 10 fish and win a small bear on a keychain. It doesn’t even pass through your hands as Jaehyun takes it from the stall operator immediately. 

“That’s mine!” You whine, reaching out in vain to take it from him; he just holds it high over his head. His eyes are twinkling under the shadow his cap casts over his face. “I worked hard for that.”  

“Let me keep this one,” he mimics the pleading lilt in your voice. “I’ll put it on my bag.”

“You know you can’t! Give it back.”

“I’ll win you a bigger one,” he promises. “Let me keep this one. It’s cute. It reminds me of you. I’ll kiss it goodnight before I sleep.” He starts to laugh softly. “And then you’ll feel this weird spirit kissing you at like two in the morning, and you’ll know it’s me.”  

Your arms aren’t long enough to retrieve it, and you don’t really want to, so you settle with twisting his ear. He takes it in stride even if he over-acts, making pained noises while leading you to the kiosk he wants to go to. It’s a shooting range stall, and he pays his own precious 500 won for a dart gun. He’s barely paying attention when the guy starts explaining how many points are assigned to each balloon color, more concerned with talking to the bear keychain in his hand and pretending like he’s cooing at you. You have to hit him across the shoulder to get him to focus.  

“You need to start picking out what prize you want,” he tells you — the actual you, not the animal keychain version — as he lifts the dart gun.  

“I’ll wait for you to finish first.”  

“No way.” He tilts his head, closing one eye to steady his line of sight. “Pick already. Or just go for the biggest one.”

“You know that Fortnite and dart guns aren’t the same thing, right?”  

“Yeah, but I’m well-motivated.” He grins at you, one eye still shut. He looks like a baby pirate. “Go ahead. Pick the biggest one.”

“Why don’t you just shoot, and we’ll see.”  

“Pick it,” he insists. “Tell me you have faith in me. Tell me you love me.”

“Okay, I love you,” you agree. “But I have no faith in you when it comes to this.”  

“One out of two is fine,” he concedes, taking aim.  

All three of you, including the stall operator, let out a disappointed groan when he misses his first shot. His comes with a sheepish laugh as he reloads, suddenly telling you to pick the second biggest prize instead. You can’t even watch him miss over and over, so you pretend to be interested in a bunch of teenage boys playing a game of cups one stall over, trying not to giggle when you hear him get increasingly more frustrated at himself. When you turn back around, you notice he’s holding two small pieces of gummy candy, offering one to you like a kindergartener. He helps you tug your face mask down so you can eat it.  

There’s a food stall nearby that, thankfully, accepts credit and debit; Jaehyun fishes out his card to get you a corndog — only one because he’s watching his weight for the upcoming concert, apparently. This is information you hate hearing but have no say in, and he knows this; you know he does because he says ‘don’t worry about me’ totally out of the blue, like five minutes after the conversation ceases to be relevant.  

His phone starts ringing when the food comes out, and he takes a tiny bite of it — more bread than hotdog — before he answers. You know it’s Taeyong by the way he answers.  

“Hyung, sorry — can we talk later? I’m out with ____________.”  

Taeyong says something loud but indiscernible on the other end. You piece together that it’s about tomorrow’s schedule when Jaehyun speaks again.

“I know. I’ll be home in a bit; don’t worry about it. I haven’t forgotten.”  

There’s more garbled speech on the other line; Jaehyun gestures for you to keep eating, and you do, but you more concerned with the morphing expressions on his face than you are with the act of chewing. He’s making noncommittal noises in response to what seem to be commands and reminders. You’re pretty much done with the corndog by the time he says ‘Okay, hyung. Hyung — I’ll see you later, okay?’

“Taeyong hyung says hi,” he tells you once he’s hung up the phone. “He says you still need to give back that book you borrowed from him last year.”  

“Oh yeah,” you finish off the last of the food. “I’ll drop it off within the week.”  

“Don’t worry about it. He doesn’t actually mean it.”  

Jaehyun watches you snap the stick in half and toss it in the trash bag.  

“We can go home,” you say finally. His eyebrows shoot up. “You’re busy tomorrow. I forgot.”

“I didn’t forget, and it’s fine.”  

“It’s almost two in the morning.” You check your phone to verify. “You probably have to be up in a few hours. You need to sleep, or you’ll die, Jaehyun. I’m too young to be a grieving widow.”

“Let’s at least ride the Ferris wheel,” he suggests. Before you can protest, he tugs you towards the rickety contraption, digging the 500 won out of your pocket and handing it to the bemused operator. He lets you choose what carriage you want because literally no one is on it anymore, and Jaehyun asks for the best carriage. You’re not sure how it differs from the rest, but he makes a show out of guiding you into it, and you don’t miss the corny ‘my lady,’ he mutters under his breath.   

It’s small, clearly meant for either a tiny group of children or couples who want to be as close together as possible. It’s also not air-conditioned, and only one of the windows is open, so you end up sticking to Jaehyun’s arm on the way up. The view is still great, though, and you feel his hand settle on your knee as the carriage makes it slow ascent.  

The ride up is quiet, and you press your face as close to the glass of the carriage as you dare, but Jaehyun doesn’t move an inch. His hand is still heavy on your thigh, but it doesn’t do anything but lay there. When you’re close to the top, you’re hit with the urge to do something romantic — kiss, maybe, tell him happy birthday, or say ‘I love you’ to him in the most sickening way possible — but when you turn to look at him, you have to hold your tongue.

Jaehyun is asleep, leaning against the corner of the carriage, head tilted down a little. His shoulders are rising and falling slowly, and he’s pulled down his face mask a little so he can breathe better; his lips are slightly parted by the slackening of his jaw. His left hand is shoved in his pocket, like he’d passed out halfway through reaching for something in there.  

He doesn’t wake even when you move slightly so you can lean back next to him, rocking the carriage a little — not even when you reach up and adjust his head so he can rest on your shoulder. He breathes deeply, evenly, and you wonder if his ear against your shoulder allows him to hear your heart plummet unfairly to the bottom of your stomach.  

You have to shake him to rouse him when the ride comes to an end; when he opens his eyes and realizes what happened, he looks mortified. Instinctively, he opens his mouth, but you fling the carriage door open and step out before he can apologize.

You have a deal, and he knows what he shouldn’t be doing.

His grip on your hand is much tighter as you walk back to the parking lot, and he doesn’t let go, even on the road. The trip back is quieter, maybe because it’s late, or maybe because there are a ton of things the both of you want to say but can’t.  

He slows down when he gets to your street, but when he stops in front of your building, he doesn’t immediately unlock the doors to let you out. Instead, he turns to you, licking his lips a little nervously.

“Can you…” he clears his throat because his voice cracks a little on the first attempt. “Can you come back with me? To the dorm?”  

“I have work tomorrow, Jaehyun.”  

“It’s still at eleven, isn’t it? I can bring you home before that. You still have some stuff in my room. You can get ready there.”

“Won’t you be too busy?”  

“Just—” he sighs softly. “Can you? Please?”  

You don’t know how to say no to Jaehyun, and tonight isn’t a night you’re willing to try. It’s why fifteen minutes later, you’re walking through the front door of his dorm. Donghyuck, sitting at his computer in his room with the door ajar, greets you sleepily as you pass by.  

Jaehyun steps in the shower with you; you don’t talk, maybe because you’re worried you might wake the others up if you start a full-blown conversation in a bathroom surrounded by other bedrooms. He just passes you what you need, and you do the same for him, and somewhere in between, he kisses you under the spray of the water.  

Later, he falls asleep with a face mask on, and you have to peel it off for him and toss it into the trash. The tip of his nose is shiny, and you want to kiss it, but you know it’ll wake him, and you noticed he’d set his alarm to go off two hours from now. He’s set out a couple of earplugs for you so that you don’t hear it, but you don’t put them in. You want to see him before he leaves, even if it’s in the deadest hours of morning, so you just crawl into bed with him. A minute before you doze off, you feel his damp skin press against your neck, his form curled up against your back.  

The alarm never wakes you; the sun is out when you open your eyes, and when you check your phone, you see that it’s already half-past nine. You also notice that there’s nothing from Jaehyun on your screen, but you try not to dwell on that, considering that you’d been expecting to wake up to an empty bed. His side of the mattress is cold, which means that he’s been gone for some time.  

You don’t know if it’s just because you’re groggy, but your insides still feel like lead when you sit up. The part of you that nags about this relationship is back at full force when you start thinking about Jaehyun going to a pre-recording two hours after spending the last of his energy on you. You start wondering if you’re doing the right thing if it feels like you’re just dragging him down. Your heart clenches tightly when the worst thought hits — maybe, just maybe, he’s tired of you, too.

But you won’t let him go. More to the point — you can’t. He’s the best part of your life; it’d be a cold day in hell if you decided to leave him.

Even the thought of it makes you feel like dying.  

Then again, this isn’t all up to you.  

You’re rubbing the sleep out of your eyes — and maybe a couple of frustrated tears — when the door creaks open. You see two mugs and his hands before you see the rest of him come through the doorway. Jaehyun whispers a careful good morning as he sets the coffee down on his table, making sure to push his keyboard away to avoid accidents, before sitting down next to you. You notice that there’s an envelope next to one of the mugs; the flap is slightly open, and from under it, a flash of red peeks out.  

His hand finds its way back to your knee — it’s his favorite resting place, he’s told you once. Your lap feels like home, he’d joked. Maybe he touches it every so often because it’s like a reset button for him.  

He doesn’t ask if you slept well, or if you want to get ready before having your coffee, or if you’re okay. He just squeezes your knee a little tighter. It’s you that has to start the conversation this time.

“How did it go?”

“It went great. You’ll see it on TV later tonight,” he starts rubbing your thigh idly. “You’ll watch it later, right?”  

“Of course. I’ll call you and tell you how cool you look.”  

He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. When you lapse into silence again, it’s because you’re expecting him to say something, but he doesn’t come out with it directly. You try not to let it show that you’re worried, that you’re skeptical, that you’re wondering if he thinks he’s too tired, too busy for this, too.  

You’re expecting him to start how most break-ups start. You know I love you, right? And then the telltale but… would come, and you would have to hold back your tears and smile for him, and tell him you know, and that you understand it isn’t the right time, but maybe one day, someday, when he isn’t everyone’s Jung Jaehyun anymore — only yours.  

“You love me, right?”  

It’s not what you’d been expecting. Nor is it the playful little text he’d sent — no laughs, no jokes. His expression is somber, mouth pressed into a thin line.  

“You know I do.”

“A lot, right?”

“A lot,” you confirm softly.  

“Then whatever it is that you’re thinking about us,” he says quietly. “Don’t. Don’t think it. Don’t do it.”  

“Jaehyun—”

“I know it’s hard,” his fingers dig into your skin a little. “I know I put you through a lot. I know you think that I’m suffering because of this relationship too. I know everything. But whatever you think I’m going to do, I won’t do it — not ever. So if you’re thinking of it too, I’m begging you. Don’t. Please.”  

Maybe he had noticed all this time. A wave of guilt washes over you when you see the pained look on his face; perhaps you were even more transparent than you’d originally thought. You nod slowly to show your understanding, and he continues.  

“I know yesterday wasn’t the best you could have hoped for,” he carefully avoids apologizing, although it’s written all over his features. “For me, too. I… I wanted something different. It’ll be better next time. Do you believe me?”  

You hear him swallow — his nails are biting into your thigh a little, so you have to gently peel his hand off. Your fingers replace it, tightening around his palm as you nod.

“I believe you.”  

“And you trust me, right?”

“With my life.”  

“Then can you put your faith in me right now?” He asks. “Don’t panic. Just — just say yes.”

He pats around his pants, finally deciding to slip his hand into his left-hand pocket. Unlike on the Ferris wheel, he manages to extract something, but he keeps it closed in his fist. It’s shaking a little as he takes your hand in his other one, pressing something small and hard into your palm before he curls your fingers over it. His hold keeps your fist closed as he starts talking.

“It’s not immediate. We’ll figure it out. We’ll tell the right people, and they’ll help us tell everyone else — the public, the press. It doesn’t have to happen right now, or any time soon either— not if you don’t want it to. We can take it slow, or whatever. Anything you want — just as long as it’s with me.”  

“Jaehyun,” you shake your head, a little dizzy. “What are you talking about?”  

He slowly loosens his hold on your fingers, his hand dropping to the same spot on your knee. You’re free to open your fist, and when you do, you can’t help but feel a little stumped.

“I don’t mean now,” he repeats, now sounding doubly worried. “It’s not — It’s just…”  

“You’ll get in trouble. We can’t.”

“I won’t. Not if we do this right. Like I said, we can do it slowly. Months — years, however long it takes to do it well. What it is — it’s just… a promise.”  

“A promise,” you echo. It does have a nice ring to it.  

“That I’m not leaving you. Not ever. And… if you say yes, that you won’t either.”  

Your coffee has probably turned cold. Jaehyun is watching you carefully, looking like he’s trying hard not to bite his lip. You look back down at your hand, and he speaks up again.  

“You know I love you, right?”  

You smile slightly. “No but?”  

“No but,” he agrees.  

The ring fits nicely on your finger; maybe it’s well-measured from the amount of times he’s held your hand tightly in his.  

“Okay, Jaehyun,” you whisper. “I promise.”  

When you place your hand on his, he twists his palm, slender fingers gently twirling the ring around the base of your finger.  

Minutes later, he hands you your coffee. It’s sweet and milky, the way he knows you like it best. When he settles back down on the bed, you notice his eyes travel to your finger again, a small smile playing on his lips.  

Perhaps, in this moment, you finally learn to ask the right questions — not about if it’s worth it, but if he is.  

And in this moment, where he sits in silence with you, the sunlight pouring in from his window hitting the tips of his hair and the end of his nose, with the knowledge that his heart is as full as yours, you come to realize that there can — and never will be — any doubt of that.  

[simon-sehs]

due (18+) pt 3

pairing: f!reader x simon ‘ghost’ riley

tags / cw: f!reader, virgin!reader, inexperienced!reader, sexually repressed!reader, smut, pining, flirting, inappropriate conduct, seduction, mind games, theft, insults, sexual tension, possessive!simon, jealous!simon, manipulative!reader, injury mention, dirty talk, virginity kink, grinding, dry humping, come marking, oral sex, pussy eating, fingering, vaginal sex, creampie

His name was Carter.

The two of you talked once or twice, struck up a decent conversation here and there, but didn’t really see each other much outside of the mess hall during meals. You at first thought of calling up your ex, Billy, but that was too obvious, and also: Fuck. That.

No, Carter would do nicely.

He was pretty: black hair, green eyes, a sweet, warm smile.

Part of you knew you should feel bad for using him to get back at Ghost, but you took solace in the fact that he was only one part of your plan. After all, it was your gracious Lieutenant who taught you not to put all your eggs in one basket when it came to strategies.

You found yourself back in the mess hall, only a couple hours later. Your sleep had been small and futile, but you found yourself refreshed regardless. Whether it was from the excitement of your budding plan, or the action you had received last night, you weren’t sure. It didn’t matter.

You stood near the door, and glanced around, your eyes settling on a familiar figure. Bingo. You began walking over to him, not bothering to look for Ghost. You couldn’t, you had to be subtle, or this entire operation would crumble before it even left the ground.

Carter glanced up as you sat down across from him with a warm smile. “Hi. Mind if I join you?”

He raised an eyebrow and nodded. “Yeah, help yourself, Sergeant.”

You sat down with your cup of coffee, your eyes glancing at his tray of food briefly before meeting his gaze. “Been a while. How’ve you been?”

“Ah, I’m fine. Nothing really worth talking about. Dislocated my knee a week ago. You?”

Time to put on a show.

You let your face fall slightly. “I, uh… I’ve been better. Just… stressed, about stuff.”

Carter nodded sympathetically. “Understandable. I’m here to talk if needed, my husband says I’m great at listening and giving advice.”

You paused. Husband? Oh.

You quickly composed yourself. “Really? How long have you two been together? If you… don’t mind sharing…”

Carter’s face lit up. “Ah, six years, now. High school sweethearts, actually. Married for three. What about you?”

This threw a slight wrench in your plans, but this could work.

“Uhh, well… it’s… complicated…”

“Mm, well, I hope it gets un-complicated for you.”

Meanwhile, across the room…

Ghost watched the two of you have a conversation. A fascinating conversation, by the looks of it. To say he was jealous was an understatement. Hell, you hadn’t even looked at him once this whole morning. Did you even know he was there? Or was this some sort of petty revenge for what he said last night?

He took a sip of his tea, wondering if he should risk getting closer to listen to the two of you. He ultimately decided against it, content with watching…

For now.

You smiled at Carter. “Thanks, I appreciate that.” You took a drink of coffee. “I… have a weird request, actually. Feel free to say no.”

“Weird, eh? Now I got to hear it, Sarge.”

“I, uh, could really use a hug…”

Carter’s eyebrows raised. “Hmm, well, I wasn’t really expecting that, but I don’t see why not.” He paused. “You’re, uh… not going to slap a note on my back that says ‘kick me’ or anything, right?”

You let out a laugh. A good, genuine laugh that reached Ghost’s ears.

“No, no… I promise. Just a hug.”

Carter nodded and stood from his seat. Then, so did you. The both of you met halfway around the table, and embraced each other. Ghost set his mug down on his table with a little more force than intended, gaze burning a hole through the both of you.

You pulled back with a smile, and lightly squeezed Carter’s shoulder.

Ghost grit his teeth.

“Thank you, Carter. I feel a lot better, already…” You said.

“No problem.”

The both of you sat back down, and talked a bit more. You eventually excused yourself after finishing your cup of coffee.

It was time for the next order of business.

You entered an empty training room and got everything set up. When it came to throwing knives, you were alright. You could use a bit of polishing when it came to that skill, and you were thankful that that would come into play, today. Now, you just had to wait for him to show up.

There was no way in hell Ghost wouldn’t follow you in after your performance with Carter…

You picked up one of the knives and twirled it in your fingers. To get this to work, you’d have to appear just a little more incompetent than usual. You got into an… adequate stance and lazily threw the knife at the wall target. It missed the entire thing.

Alright, let’s not appear that incompetent…

You picked up another knife as you heard the door open behind you. You didn’t bother to turn and look… you didn’t need to. You adjusted your wrist and threw. Outermost circle.

“Want some help?”

You tensed slightly as Ghost’s breath hit your neck. “No, I’m good.”

He chuckled. “You sure?”

You watched as he slowly picked up three knives, pretending to examine them in his hands. He turned towards the target, and threw one. Bullseye. Another. Bullseye. Then the last. Bullseye.

You glanced away, trying to mentally beat your growing arousal to a pulp. Focus.

He turned to face you once more, eyes crinkling as he smirked beneath the mask.

You rolled your eyes. “Well, you obviously don’t need the practice, and I don’t need your help. You can go, now.” You said, knowing fully well that he wasn’t going to leave.

“Nah. Think I’ll stick around, evaluate your progress.”

Excellent…

You sighed and got into position once more. The incorrect stance. You knew better, of course, but he didn’t know that. His scrutinizing gaze along your form burned into your skin, but you proceeded to throw the knife. Outermost circle.

You picked up another, ignoring Ghost all the while. Stance. Throw… Outermost circle. You were surprised how quickly it took for him to fold.

“Your stance is wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

He huffed. “You daft? The way you’re standing, you’ll never hit the center if your stance is fucked.”

He got closer to you, putting his hands on your hips and adjusting you. His feet kicked at yours, prodding them into a different position. You bit your cheeks in an effort to not grin. Time for the next part.

Your movements were subtle, so agonizingly minuscule, as he focused on fixing your form. You slowly leaned into his touch, your back melting into his chest, and he was none the wiser.

“There. Now throw.”

You did, the knife hitting a ring closer to the center. You carefully fidgeted in his grasp, undoing his work.

Ghost groaned. “What are you doin’? You just undid your stance.”

His movements were a bit rougher as he manhandled you back into place. The perfect excuse to… accidentally… bump back against his groin. He froze, and you could hear his breath hitch. But only for a second, and then he continued his task as if nothing happened.

He jostled you forward a bit, making you ‘lose’ your balance slightly and bump back against him once more.

“Dammit, stop that.” He hissed.

“Me? You’re the one throwing me around!”

“Don’t be dramatic and stay still like a good girl.”

“Why, so you can keep ‘accidentally rubbing’ up against me?” You say, turning it around on him.

He scoffed and leaned forward, his breath hot on your ear. “You’d enjoy that, wouldn’t you? Having me rutt against you like a damn dog...”

“You are a damn dog.”

“Mmm, is that so?” He lowered his head and started kissing your neck, pulling you flush against him. “Then you won’t mind if I do…”

You let out a shaky breath, trying not to smile with giddy glee. “There’s a camera in here, too.”

“No shit.” He grabbed your hips and started circling them along his—now prominent—bulge.

He then braced one of his arms along your ribs, under your breasts, to keep you locked against him, while his lips continued leaving wet kisses on your throat.

You let him grind against you for a bit, his fingers tightening around your skin as he got closer to his peak, his grunts and groans increasing. You suppressed an evil grin before sighing. “Alright, I’m getting bored.”

He huffed and puffed. “Sh-shut up, I’m getting close…”

“That’s too bad…” You pulled away, and out of his tight grip.

For a second, the intensity of his glare had you internally sweating, and wondering if he was going to attempt to continue, but he just clenched his jaw.

And stared, of course.

“Fuckin’ tease…”

“Getting déjà vu, Lieutenant? I know I am…” You walked over to the wall targets and began pulling the knives out.

“Don’t pull that, with me. I made you see stars twice last night.”

You ignored him and proceeded to put the knives away. Ghost kept glaring, sulking over his lost orgasm.

You sighed and faced him. “Well, if you want to make yourself useful, I guess we could spar.”

Ghost rolled his eyes. “I’m still recovering from your fuckup.”

“Hm, but you seemed fine manhandling me last night…”

He stared at you, weighing the options in his head. “Fine. I only need one good arm to beat your ass, anyway. But if you deliberately harm my shoulder, you will regret it.”

“Give it a rest, LT, I’m not going to hit your precious shoulder…” You crossed your arms and watched as he unzipped his jacket, and threw it at you.

You barely caught it in time and narrowed your eyes at him, trying to ignore the sight of his beefy arms in the—wow, black again, what a surprise—t-shirt he wore. You noticed the bandage on his lower forearm was now gone. You sighed and walked towards the nearest bench.

You were not expecting him to just hand you his jacket outright, but you didn’t care. If anything, he just saved you a step. How kind of him…

Your hand deftly slipped into the left pocket. The security camera wouldn’t catch this angle. Even if it did, it would be too late for Ghost to even think to check the footage later. No, by then, things would have played out as hoped. They had to.

Your fingers curled around the lighter, and you slowly pulled it out, switching it to a pocket on your leggings; the ones you specifically picked out for today. Why? Pockets with zippers. Can’t risk his precious lighter falling out during the sparring session, after all…

And then you tossed his jacket onto the bench, before joining him on the mat.

His arms were crossed. “You didn’t have to go on a damn journey to set it down, the floor would have been fine.”

“Then why throw it at me?” You raised an eyebrow.

He smirked. “Because it’s funny.”

“Right…”

“Ready to get your ass kicked?”

You sighed inwardly. You really weren’t, to be honest, but the proposition to spar was only an excuse to get him out of his damn jacket.

“Don’t get cocky, now. You’re at a disadvantage, remember?”

But it didn’t matter, he was right…

He only needed one good arm.

•••

Ding!

Your gaze left the page of your book and landed on the lit-up screen beside your thigh. You set the book in your lap and picked up the phone. One new message from ‘Ghostie’.

You opened it.

Ghostie: Hey. Have you seen my lighter?

You smirked to yourself. Damn, already? You weren’t expecting him to reach out to you about his missing lighter so soon. If anything, you thought he wouldn’t catch on to your possible involvement until one or two more days after.

You: found a lighter in the hallway earlier. what color is it?

Ghostie: Hey that’s mine. Bring it to my office ASAP.

You: tell me the color! i’m not giving anything until you confirm.

Ghostie: Red.

You: fine you can have it back

You: but in the morning

You: i’m in jamas and busy reading.

Ghostie: Bloody hell. Fine, I’ll stop by.

You chuckled to yourself and set the phone down, returning to your book. But the words blurred together as you excitedly waited for him to stop by. There was no guarantee that things would escalate tonight, but all the buildup, the planning… it would at least be another stepping stone.

A minute later, there was a knock on the door.

“Come in.” You called out.

The door opened, and there he was. He shut the door behind him and walked over to you.

“Alright, give.” He said holding out his hand.

You rolled your eyes. “Hello to you, too, Lieutenant.”

You leaned over the bed, grabbing your leggings off of the floor and unzipping the pocket, pulling the lighter out and handing it to him. “You should keep better track of your stuff, LT.”

“Quiet.” He pocketed the lighter, watching as you dropped your pants to the floor and laid back down on your bed, book still in your lap.

Then it dawned on him, just how intimate this situation… felt. Standing in the sanctity of your room, you dressed in your pajama shirt and shorts, the lamp lighting low and warm, and the candle on the nightstand filling the room with the sweet scent of vanilla.

His gaze lingered on your bare legs, up your body, to your midriff. Your shirt was slightly hiked up your stomach, but you didn’t seem to mind.

You cleared your throat. “Did you need something else?”

Was that a trick question? He needed you. Needed to rip those stupid little shorts off, stuff your virgin hole and make you come over, and over, and—

“No. What are you reading?”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “A book.”

He huffed and looked away. “Not leaving until you tell me.”

“…Fine… It’s a romance novel: ‘Reverie’ by Stephanie Fenderson.”

“Yeah? What’s it about?” He found himself intrigued.

“Two nobles from rival houses start a forbidden love affair. Think… ‘Romeo and Juliet’, but raunchier… and with actual adults, of course.”

“Hmm. How raunchy?”

Perfect.

You fake a scoff. “I’m not telling you.”

“I’ll find out eventually. Rather hear it from your pretty lips.”

You meet his gaze. “Well… there’s this… one scene… They’re at the same fancy ball, and sneak off to a room to… have fun.”

You sit up on the bed, crossing your legs as you set the book on your nightstand. Ghost can’t help but notice the small opening of the shorts along your inner thigh, and his teeth clenched. It was just the tiniest of peeks, but there was no mistaking the sight of black, lacy panties. He felt his cock twitch.

“Specifics.” He says.

“Hmph. Sure. So, they’re getting busy, having a great time. Pretty standard, vanilla. But then they almost get caught. The man, Fredrick, hides underneath the woman, Constance’s, gown. It’s one of those… hoop skirt dresses, or whatever…”

You scratch your chin. “The guy who interrupted them is this important dude who wants to marry her. Fredrick gets jealous of the guy’s attempts to court her, so… he starts eating her out while she tries to be polite to her suitor, and he’s none the wiser.”

Despite the fact that the two of were intimate the night before, you still found yourself blushing as you recounted the smutty novel.

He carefully walked over to your bed and sat beside you, laying his elbows on his thighs in an effort to conceal his growing boner. “Interesting… maybe I’ll have to borrow it from you, sometime.”

“Mm, I don’t think so. Your big hands would likely ruin the spine.”

He leaned in closer. “These big hands took good care of your pussy last night. Or did you forget?”

Heat pooled in your abdomen. “I didn’t. But it doesn’t matter in the long run, I have plans beyond you…”

His eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

You looked at him incredulously. “Huh. It sounds like you’re the one forgetting about last night. Do you not remember what I said about finding someone else?”

His blood ran cold, and his jaw clenched. “You… you wouldn’t. I told you, your virginity is mi—“

You tilted your head. “You also said to forget about the favor. That you forgive me.”

He breathed deeply. “I was being sarcastic. I didn’t expect you to be that dense…”

“Oh, well. I guess you’ll be getting sloppy seconds, Mr. ‘I’m a Patient Man’.”

The seconds ticked by in silence. You watched in his brown eyes as he went through a journey of emotions. It was so, so, satisfying. But this wasn’t even the end, or the best part, for that matter.

“Now, are you going to leave, Lieutenant? I really should get some sleep…”

You watched in real time as the last of his resolve snapped, and he seemed to come to terms with something. “…No.”

Yes…

You leaned in. “No?”

“You want a dick that badly? Fine, you greedy girl, I’ll give you one…” He seethed.

And there it is… I win.

He continued. “You’re not going to anyone else. I’m gonna fuck the very notion of that out of your daft head.”

You shook your head. “You’re not thinking clearly. You shouldn’t feel pressured into this—“

“Oh, shut up. You? Pressure me?” He laughed bitterly. “I’ve wanted this for months, and I’m not letting some stupid motherfucker get his hands on you first.”

Time for the pièce de résistance…

You gingerly placed a hand on his warm, toned thigh. “Simon…” You say softly, so sweetly. “Are you sure?”

You gasped as he pushed you back onto your bed, your head hitting the pillow.

He crawled on top of you, his breathing heavy and labored. He stared down at you, his gaze making you feel like you were trapped beneath a predator ready to make their kill. You waited for something, anything, but then realized…

He was calming himself down.

It would be easy—so easy—to just take you without mercy, without care, but he knew better. As much as you were getting on his fucking nerves, he was adamant on making sure your first time was great. No, more than great. Indescribable.

He finally chuckled, lifting his balaclava to reveal his mouth and nose.

“What’s so funny?” You asked.

“Have you ever been kissed? That sleazebag, Billy, did he ever kiss you?”

You sighed. “Yeah, unfortunately.”

“A shame. But I’m here now, we can pretend I’m your first kiss…”

“That’s not how it—mmh!”

His lips smothered yours, and you started blushing; the realization that this man had ate you out the night before, but never even gave you a proper kiss, washing over you. You probably would have laughed, if your mouth wasn’t busy.

He was a good kisser, his lips rough but plump. You felt disappointment, realizing that all the times you kissed Billy, it was nothing like this. That boy had no idea what he was doing.

Not like Ghost, and you felt yourself getting soaked.

He moaned before pulling away to gaze into your eyes. “Now, are you sure you want this?”

“Ah, now you’re being considerate?”

“Of course I am, love. Want to hear you say it, out loud.”

“You know how I feel, but fine. I want you, Simon, I need you…” You grabbed his hand and slipped it through the leg of your shorts, his fingers grazing along your wet folds, making him moan.

You made a silent prayer, hoping that your lack of experience wouldn’t shine through too much as you prepped yourself for the ultimate challenge: dirty talk.

“Feel that?” You whispered. “All for you…”

So simple, so small. But you knew it would resonate with his infatuation towards you, and the jealousy you had carefully built up from that morning. You watched him breathe deeply.

“Yes… all mine…” He continued staring into your eyes, his dark and heavy. “No one can get you wet like me… not Billy. Not that dickhead in the mess hall. Not those filthy little books you read… Me.”

“Are you getting jealous over my reading materi—ah!”

He swiped his fingers around your entrance, gathering your wetness. “You ever taste yourself, love?”

You could feel a blush forming. “I, uh… sometimes…”

He chuckled. “No need to be embarrassed…”

He pulled his fingers out of your shorts, his other hand delicately moving your chin to part your lips. Then, his wet fingers entered your mouth, and you instinctively wrapped your lips around them, letting your tongue lick and taste them.

Like before—during your experimenting—the taste was pleasant, but not overwhelming. Nothing in particular came to mind when trying to compare it to other… flavors, other than… sweet? Maybe?

You snapped out of your daze as his fingers started moving, in and out of your mouth. They were now clean of you, but it seemed he wasn’t ready to take them out just yet. So, you continued to lick, to suck.

The look in his eyes confirmed your suspicions, he was imagining something better than fingers in your warm mouth. He groaned and then took them out with a soft pop, his hands now moving to undo his jeans.

Oh, finally. Yes…

He took them off with ease, revealing basic white boxers. His shirt? Well…

Ghost must have forgotten about the state of his shoulder amidst his horniness, a hiss leaving his mouth as he attempted to lift the hem with his bad arm. You immediately sat up. “Let me…”

You expected him to push you back down, allow his stubbornness to take over…

But he didn’t.

He let you carefully begin to take the shirt off, being mindful of the bandage still present on his shoulder. You lifted it past his head, fingers clutching onto the warm fabric as you oggled his bare muscles. He grabbed the shirt from your hands and tossed it onto the floor.

“Like what you see?”

You ignored him, eye-fucking him without a sliver of shame. You grinned.

He laughed softly, gently lowering you back down, and crawling back up your body to look over you. “Oh, yeah. You do…”

You palmed him through his boxer shorts, earning a hiss and then a groan. You had wanted this since last night, knowing he had been touching himself while pleasuring you…

“Ahh, what are you doing, love?”

“Want to… uh… help you…”

He gingerly took your wrist in his hand. “Mm, next time. Yeah, next time, I’ll teach ya how to please a man properly. Me, I mean. It’s not like you’ll be sleepin’ with other men after this…”

“Is that so?” You smirked, your expression waning as he made you moan by grinding against your clothed pussy.

He ignored your bait. “Nnf, damn… I’m gonna treat you so well, sweetheart. That way, I’ll be able to punish you after for ruining my fun earlier.”

Excitement bubbled up inside you. “Heh, yeah? How?”

“Mmm… oh yeah… I think I’ll continue what I was doing earlier. Hump you like a toy, all over… You won’t be allowed to come at all.”

Your eyes widen. “What?”

“You heard me. Maybe I’ll let you finish after I’m spent, but that depends on how good you are, hmm?” He leaned in. “All the meanwhile, I’ll paint allll of you pretty in white…”

Holy shit. “Simon…” You whine.

“So needy, so fuckin’ desperate. I give you two orgasms last night and you’re already addicted. Be a good girl, and you’ll get what you want.”

You whimper and nod.

He grasped your hips and grinded you up and down his clothed bulge. “Fuck… yeah… feels better than before… soak through those shorts and my boxers, love, ruin them…”

“Unnnhh…” You lazily rutted against him, the friction feeling lovely but not enough. “Simon… I need more…”

“Poor girl, you achin’ down there?”

“Mhmm…”

He put a hand on your face, his large fingers caressing your cheek bones. “I’ll take good care of you, love. I promise.” He said softly, the weight of his words making your heart ache as well.

He slowly pulled back to take your shorts off, his grin widening as he got a proper look at your underwear. Pretty black lace, almost too small to properly cover your leaking cunt. He couldn’t help himself, gripping your hips and grinding against you once more.

He shivered. Your underwear had completely soaked through.

“Simon.” You whined once more.

He grunted in response, tentatively pulling back again to remove the lace. However, you didn’t crook your knees in time to help, making him rip the underwear in half.

“Shit, sorry, love. My bad...” He said sheepishly, and then held them up, raising an eyebrow at you. “But… seems like you won’t need them anymore. A good ‘lil keepsake for me…”

You huffed.

He didn’t spare a glance at your bare sex. Not yet. He dropped the ruined underwear. His fingers curled into your shirt and he started lifting it, his nails softly scratching along your skin. Then, he paused.

“Mm. No bra?”

“Not tonight, no. They can be uncomfortable to sleep in.” You said nonchalantly.

“Uncomfortable… hm… but you’ll wear panties that barely cover your cunt…”

Uhh…

Thankfully, he didn’t seem to care or look more into it. He shook his head and continued taking the shirt off. “Not like I’m complaining, mind you. But I do want to see the matching bra, sometime. There’s no way you don’t have one.”

You smirked. “Alright, noted.”

He threw the shirt aside and leaned back to admire your naked form. “How lovely… better than I imagined…”

His hands grasped your breasts, three of his fingers still slightly cold and moist from being in your mouth. You shivered with a moan. “So pretty, so soft… can’t wait to deflower you.”

“Technically, after last night—“

“Oh, don’t go there. I don’t care about the technicalities of last night. You’ve never been dicked down, and that’s what I’m referring to. Now, be a good girl and shush…”

Ghost leaned back again, and finally pulled his boxers off. You couldn’t hold back the moan that left your mouth at the sight of his dick, leaking with pre-come. He leaned forward again, resting his member on your clit.

“See that, pretty girl?” He slowly stroked himself against your folds. “That’s what a cock looks like.”

You had to resist the urge to face palm yourself. “Jesus, Simon, I know what a dick looks like.”

“No, you don’t know what mine looks like. Get well acquainted, you’re gonna be seeing it a lot.” He paused and peered down once more. “Aha, damn, you’re soaking your bed, love. Pretty pussy is working so hard, preparing itself just for me…”

He pulled his lower body away and inserted a finger. You moaned, he groaned. He began pumping it in and out, making your pussy sing with your slickness.

“Shit, I think… think you’re wetter than last night. Good…”

You smirked at him. “Yeah, the book I was reading is pretty spicy…”

“Shut up, or I’m burnin’ the damn thing.” He took his finger out, and you began to regret your teasing.

Before you could beg and plead your case for more, he stuffed his face against your pussy and started lapping at it.

“Gahh, Simon, not again, I want you inside—“

“Quiet,” he growled, “I know what I’m doing. Ya need to be ready for me…”

You pouted but didn’t say anything more, only opening your mouth to moan softly as he licked and sucked. But then, his finger entered you once more, and he proceeded to stimulate you with both his hand and mouth.

Oh, this is new.

You clutched the bed sheets, trying to keep still and let him do his thing, lest he chastise you again like last night.

“Tell me when you’re close…” He breathed out, inserting another finger.

“O-okay… god, Simon, ohhh…”

“Mhmm…” He mumbled, still licking and fingering you.

You noticed his whole body moving in junction with his head and fingers, and you peered downward. You saw him dragging his weeping cock along your bedsheets, the sight making you whimper and clench around his fingers.

“Simon… I’m gonna come…”

“Mm, good girl. Thank you for telling me.” He stopped all movements and pulled away.

“H-hey! What are you doing?”

“What you did to me, earlier. Sucks, doesn’t it? But don’t worry, you’ll get to come…” He leaned in and started kissing your neck. “You smell so good… you always smell good… drives me fuckin’ crazy…”

“God, Simon, please, I want to come…”

Ghost licked along your neck. “Don’t worry, love, you will. I’ll let you come around my dick, how’s that?”

“Please…”

“Good girl… such a good girl…” He cooed.

He leaned back and adjusted his position, lining himself up at your weeping sex.

“Now, I want you to hold onto me. This might hurt, sweetheart…”

You did as he requested, and that’s when he started entering you.

You winced and bit your lip, the stretch feeling a bit more painful than you anticipated. Suck it up, you’ve taken bullets...

He slowly eased his way in, your hole trying to push him out, despite it having done so much prep beforehand to welcome him with open arms. He leaned in closer and caressed a cheek.

“Relax, love. Loosen those muscles, breathe deeply… I got you.” He whispered.

His words helped alone, making you sigh with relief as you steered focus towards the new wave of arousal washing over your body. Something about the way he spoke softly just never failed to do wonders for you.

But then you realized he wasn’t moving anymore. You looked down in confusion and saw him already all the way in, to the hilt. Oh.

He also glanced down, admiring the joining of your bodies as he held your legs up, placing your ankles on his shoulders. “Fuck, look at that… what a pretty sight. Feels even better inside…”

Then, he started moving. His thrusts were slow and gentle, caring. But the sensation was still deliciously overwhelming; you could feel his cock rubbing against your soft, virgin walls, tight and pulsing around him.

“God, you don’t… understand how hard it is… to hold myself back… right now…” He grit out.

“D-don’t hold back, Simon…”

He grunted. “Don’t be saying shit like that. You’ll get it in the future, but for now, I’m keeping it simple, sweetheart.”

He held onto your thighs and squeezed hard, grounding himself as he maintained a sweet and slow pace, one that gradually increased in speed, if only by a minuscule difference. His eyes raked up and down your body, soaking in every reaction to his ministrations.

“Talk to me, lovie. Tell me how it feels…”

“Uuuuhhhn, feels… good…” You croaked out.

“Good? Just good?”

You groaned. “It feels amazing, don’t stop…”

“That right? Tell me, you still think you would have done well with someone else for your first time?”

“Uffff, mmm…”

He chuckled. “Can’t even think properly, can you? So cock-drunk…”

Then he stopped and pulled out.

“Sim—“

“On your stomach.”

You blushed, but rushed to do as he said, the side of your face hitting the pillow. He grabbed your hips and tilted them upwards, his knee pushing one of your legs open aside. “There we go…” You couldn’t see much from this angle, but the excitement in his voice was palpable.

He slowly lowered himself on top of you, his chest connecting with your back. He wasn’t squishing you, not completely, but enough to make his presence felt. Then, he entered you once more, stuffing his face into your neck.

“Mmmh… make you feel all of me… every inch of my skin… make sure you memorize it. It’s okay if you forget, though, I’ll happily remind you…” He started moving, his pace still casual and languid.

“Can’t… can’t wait to ruin you… turn you into a fuckin’ degenerate… heh, unless… you already are, and we just don’t know it, yet…”

He adjusted one of his legs, the angle of his hips making him reach deeper, and you whimper. “Ohh, god, oh…”

Ghost then sped up, reaching a faster rhythm that would satisfy you, but wouldn’t be too much.

You whimpered. “G-gonna…”

“Gonna come, baby? Good… milk my cock, wanna feel that cunt thank me for taking your virginity…”

“Jesus…” You groaned loudly, your orgasm hitting you hard; your walls clamping around him like a vice, pulsating like a heartbeat.

“Fuuuuck…” He snarled into your ear, his fist digging into your pillow, beside your head. “Want me to fill you up?”

“Y-yes, please, yes…”

“‘Attagirl. Need to make sure this pussy learns who it belongs to…”

His movements slowed but got harder, and then eventually, halted, as he reached his climax. He groaned into your neck, filling you up with his seed. “Good… girl… take it… all…”

He stayed on top of you for a minute, your muscles starting to ache. “Simon… you’re squishing me…”

“Ah. Sorry…” He rolled off of you, laying beside you and pulling you into his arms. “You alright, love?”

You started blushing, still trying to catch your breath. “I-I’m fine. It was good… really good…” You smiled.

You expected a snarky, arrogant comment like usual, but he just smiled in response. “Good. I’m glad.”

He used a hand to caress your body, slowly trailing down to your pussy. His fingers delved into your hole, coating them in his come before pulling them out and rubbing it along your slit. “Yeah… this is all mine…”

He then licked his fingers and pulled you closer with a content grunt. “Mm. You should have listened to me. I always get what I want, and I told you this would happen.”

You laughed softly, leaning into him. “Oh, Simon… you think this was all a coincidence? Did you really think… you’re the only one who can fight dirty?” You cooed.

He stared at you, eyes wide, the realization that, perhaps—he had been thinking with his dick too much—dawning on him. You weren’t sure how he’d react, but mentally prepared for the possibility that he’d be pissed for getting beaten at his own game.

But instead… he grinned.

“You… That’s my fuckin’ girl… all mine...”

[part one] [part two] [part three]

taglist: @corvusmorte @oceanicexolorer @icouldntthinkofanythingclever

[babydollmarauders]

FIGHT — JACK HUGHES

part of the el!hughes au

summary: y/n (lovie) and jack get into their biggest fight yet

warnings: fighting, mention of bad parents (lovie’s)

my head slumps on the back of the couch as Eleanor’s cries pierce my eardrums.

“El, baby, c’mon.” i groan out.

my recently turned one year old is sprawled out on the apartment floor, throwing a fit over something of which i have no idea.

i tried to pick her up, but she just kept pushing my hands away, screaming ‘mama! no! mama, no! no, mama!’

it’s been two weeks of this, and i have a sneaking suspicion that her constant sour mood has been all because of the particular absence of her favorite person. Jack.

it’s been two weeks of early wake-ups and late nights. two weeks of El having meltdowns if i mess up even one thing, like giving her cheetos in a bowl instead of her snack cup, or suggesting Moana instead of watching Lilo & Stitch for the billionth time, or reading her the wrong book at bed time. it’s been two weeks of sleep regression, no naps, and her throwing her food every chance she gets. two weeks of her screaming if i try and leave the room, but screaming if i try and pick her up as well. two weeks of bags under my eyes, messy buns because my hair is horribly greasy, and surviving purely on coffee.

i’m tired. my feet hurt because every time i sit, El screams at me. my head hurts from her screaming. and now my stomach cramps because i, of course, both started my period, and have not had a moment to eat all day. i’ve broken down in tears nearly every night once i finally get El to sleep, because i don’t know how much more of this i can take.

tears well up in my eyes at this very moment, and it takes everything in me to hold back my own screams. not necessarily directed at my daughter, but just in frustration. i can’t think clearly. it’s nearing midnight and i’ve tried everything to get her to sleep, but she just keeps fighting it.

i know she’s tired, just like i am. she’s been up since five in the morning, which means so have i.

“i give up.” i cry out, burying my face in my hands, weeping into them in frustration and exhaustion. “i get it, El. you want your father. i know. please, i know.”

El’s cries pause and i peek through my fingers to see her watching me with a tilted head, before she bursts back into tears.

i steel my spine, wiping my own tears, and strengthening myself. i rise from the couch, scooping my daughter up, despite her smacks to my chest and pulls on my now-falling-out bun, and shuffle towards her bedroom.

going for the last ditch effort, i grab the hidden pacifier in her top dresser drawer, and pop it into her mouth before turning on the white noise machine in the corner and placing her in her crib.

i gaze down at her, watching as she yawns, tears still slipping from her eyes. her eyelids flutter closed before she pries them back open and stares back at me.

“Eleanor Elizabeth Hughes, you have to sleep.” i scold in a whisper.

retreating from the room, closing the door and listening for her wails; i nearly cry in relief when nothing comes. nothing but silence and the sound of the white noise.

my feet pad across the wooden floors as i walk to the kitchen, keeping an ear out for El’s possible whines. too drained to make myself anything sustainable, i settle for a yogurt cup and a cheese stick. bringing my snacks with me into Jack and i’s bedroom, i settle under the blankets.

i have no energy to put into paying attention to a show or movie, and not nearly enough to read a book; so i sit in silence, staring at the wall as i eat.

placing the now empty yogurt cup on my nightstand, i pick at the cheese stick, lost in thought.

i’m struggling.

i feel like a single parent half the time.

i’m not sure how actual single parents do it. the ones who have to work and take care of their children. because parenting in and of itself is a full time job.

i know it’s not fair of me to think so little of myself, but i can’t help feeling like a horrible mother. she never wants me anymore; only ever yearning for Jack.

and i get it. i yearn for him too when he’s gone.

but can’t she be happy with me?

i miss the sound of the front door shutting; too deep in my own head. too far gone in my own thoughts.

but i do hear the not-so-hushed whispers of my husband and his brother as they venture farther into the apartment.

i hear the ‘goodnight.’ from Luke before his bedroom door shuts. i hear the nursery door opening, the white noise from the room getting louder. and then a few minutes later, i hear the nursery door click shut and the sound of my husbands footsteps getting closer down the hall before our bedroom door opens.

my cheese stick is long gone, and my fingers now settle for playing with each other. my nails picking at the others as i still sit in a catatonic state of exhaustion; staring at the wall in front of me.

Jack lets out a breath of surprise when he notices i’m awake in the dim lighting of the bedside lamp.

“hey, lovie.” he leans down, his fists pressing down on the mattress top, and lays a swift kiss on my cheek before rising back up to his full height.

i glance over as he throws Eleanor’s pacifier onto his nightstand.

“i thought we agreed no more pacifiers when she turned one? she hasn’t had one in the past month.” he huffs, stripping his shirt off and throwing it towards the hamper in the corner of the bedroom, narrowly missing by an inch. he eyes the shirt for a millisecond before shrugging and repeating the process with his pants, this time making it in the hamper.

“yeah, well, you weren’t here to attend to her screams and i was.” i retort.

“so you resorted to the paci?” he questions, pulling a pair of flannel pajama pants out of his dresser drawer.

“stop mom-shaming me.” i snap, scooting down and flopping onto my side, my back facing Jack.

“lovie.” he sighs. the bed dips as he sits behind me. “that’s not what i was doing.”

“yes. you were.” i accuse. “you’re saying i’m a bad mom for giving my daughter what she needed in order to fall asleep.”

i turn in the bed to look up at him and he parts his lips to speak, but i keep going.

“but you weren’t here, Jack. you didn’t hear her cries, or have to try every trick in the book to calm her down. you weren’t awake with her for nineteen hours with no nap only to still have her fight bed time. so, yes, i resorted to the pacifier. and ya know what? it worked.”

“i get that you’re in a bad mood, but why are you taking it out on me? i wasn’t even here for you to get angry at me.” he remarks.

“i’m not.” i deny, closing my eyes and hoping he’ll take it as a sign to just let me sleep.

“you are.” he grunts. “and it makes me feel like i’m the bad guy for doing my job.”

“well, i wouldn't have to do this all alone if it weren't for your fucking job.” i know as soon as i say it that my words were uncalled for. but, before i can take them back, Jack stands from the bed, making my eyes fly open to look at him.

“do i not help when i’m home? i’m so sorry that me providing for our family is so hard for you.” he sneers. his sarcasm is not appreciated, and i sit up in the bed in anger. “i’m so sorry that you have to be a mother, while i’m gone making money so that you don’t have to work.”

i shuffle onto my knees on the bed, glaring daggers at my husband.

“when have i ever complained about being a mother? and when have i ever said that i don’t want to work? i never asked to stay at home! but it’s what i do, because not both of us can work without putting El in daycare. which you said you didn’t want to do.”

my finger juts at my chest before poking his. my words harsh in delivery, but quiet in attempt to not disturb the sleeping baby down the hall.

“i never once complained about being a mother. i love her.” i continue.

“are you implying that i don’t love her?” Jack fumes.

“i never said that!” i cry. “you’re putting words into my mouth!”

“i’m just trying to provide for us!” our attempted quiet is long forgotten now, and i can only hope that the white noise in El’s room is enough to mask our argument.

“you think i don’t know that?” i exclaim, he opens his mouth but i don’t let him get a word in. “i’m just saying that you don’t understand how exhausting it is being a single parent half the fucking hockey season! you leave and play games and go out to fucking bars to celebrate wins and i stay here and take care of our daughter, who for the past two weeks, only wanted you!”

Jack throws his hands up in the air, huffing in anger.

“well, i can’t help that! i get that it’s hard, but you’d think you’d be a bit more grateful. it’s part of my job to leave, y/n!”

of everything he’s said, it’s those words that cut me the deepest. and what hurts the most, as small as it may seem, is that within all of our fights, big or small, throughout our entire six years together, never once has he called me by my name while we fought.

it’s always ‘lovie’.

but suddenly, i’m ‘y/n’.

i lower myself onto my butt on the mattress. tears are streaming down my cheeks and i try to wipe them away before Jack can see them.

“now you’re gonna cry?” he lowers himself onto the bed and i push myself off of it in order to gain distance, now standing a couple feet away.

“i quit.” my voice is quiet and surrendered, my words sheltered. i watch as his face drops, lips parting in shock.

“what?” he mumbles, his eyes softening.

i shake my head, letting my tears flow freely now as i round the bed and i head toward the cracked open door.

“where are you going?” he questions, his tone still holding a dash of anger.

“to sleep in Luke’s room.” i reply. he calls after me but his words fall on deaf ears.

i need space.

i don’t bother knocking on Luke’s door, opening it to find him just now sitting down in bed, his hair wet and leftover steam drifting from his en-suite bathroom.

his head snaps over to the door as i close it, and at the sight of my tears, he pats the bed beside him.

a sob racks my chest as i crawl into bed with the boy i look at as a brother. he pulls me into his side, no words spoken between us as he rubs a hand over my hair, letting me cry into his chest and soak his plain white t-shirt.

a muffled cry escapes my lips and he squeezes me tighter, pressing a kiss to my scalp. nothing needs to be said, no words needed to be shared, just quiet shushes and his hand rubbing up and down my back, the other still holding my head tight to his chest in grounding.

i’m not sure how long passes before i cry myself to sleep, Jack’s words echoing on a loop inside my head.

‘you’d think you’d be a bit more grateful.’

***

i’m unsure what time it is when i awake, but Luke is gone from the bed, and the sun peeks through the bedroom window.

i know Luke and Jack have the day off, so if Luke is already up, then i must have slept in later than i usually do.

despite the apparent long sleep, i don’t feel as well rested as i should. my eyes flutter shut for a few moments, but at the sound of the familiar squeal of excitement from my daughter, drifting in through the crack in the door, my eyes fly back open.

i kick my legs free from the tangle of blankets and throw them over the side of the bed, peeling my tired body up off the mattress. i rub my eyes as i walk over to Luke’s bathroom, ignoring the mess amongst the counter and looking in the mirror.

my eyes are still red and puffy from crying, and i turn on the faucet, cupping my hands under the cold running water and splashing it on my face before drying it with the hand towel that’s thrown haphazardly on the counter.

exiting the bathroom and bedroom, i’m immediately met with the sight of El’s smiling face bounding down the hall. her chubby little legs wobble as she runs.

“mama! dada!” she squeals, motioning behind her. a grin overtakes my lips at her excitement.

“yeah? is dada home?” i ask with a laugh as she runs smack into my legs, reaching up with grabby hands.

my heart melts in my chest. for the first time in two weeks, she wants me.

“mama! dada!” she repeats as i hoist her up, lifting her above my head and rejoicing in her giggles.

my eyes are all too soon drawn to my husband at the end of the hall. he stands leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, a faint smile on his lips while my own falls at the sight of him.

our fight replays in my mind; flashes of his red face and his defensive stance. echoes of his harsh tone and his cruel words.

Jack approaches us, leaning down to press a kiss to my lips, but i shift my face, his lips landing on my cheek instead. pulling back, his face falls, hurt shining in his eyes. it hurts me to see him upset, but i can’t bring myself to feel too bad, as i, too, am hurting.

i maneuver around him, padding down the hallway with El in my arms, making my way to the open layout of the living room and kitchen.

Luke is sat on the couch, eyes on his phone while Lilo & Stitch plays on the tv, and i flop down beside him. El crawls into his lap, pushing his phone out of the way and pushing her smiling face into his line of sight. i watch his eyes light up, sliding his phone into his pocket and tickling her sides.

a laugh escapes my lips as he lifts El upside down in front of his face, making her giggle contagiously. but once again, my lips fall back straight as Jack enters the room again.

the day continues like this, living amicably with Jack, but not happily. as the day goes on, the more i reflect on our fight the night prior, and the worse i feel. i was in the wrong. i knew that last night and i know it now.

i know leaving El is hard for him, just as taking care of her without him is hard for me. but my guilt doesn’t erase his words.

i know he didn’t mean it, just as he knows that i didn’t mean mine, but it still hurts. he cut deep. he accused me of being ungrateful, the very same thing he knows my parents called me when i told them i was moving out.

‘you’re so ungrateful. we offered you to keep living with us even after your graduation, and you’d rather move out with your unstable little boyfriend than live with the people who raised you. well, don’t come crawling back to us, we don’t take ungrateful children.’

a lump grows in my throat as i compare the fights. it’s nine at night and Jack is in El’s room, putting her to sleep, Luke long having retired to his own bedroom, leaving me alone on the couch. my knees are pulled up to my chest, my arms hugging them tight, as tears stream down my cheeks.

a small part of me tells me i should apologize. i know if i do, he will too. he already seems to want to move past it.

but the larger part of me says to wait. to let him apologize to me. to make him acknowledge that we fought. instead of brushing past it like it never happened.

Jack strides into the living room, child free, and it’s the first time we’ve really been alone together all day.

i avoid his gaze, rather wiping my tears and averting my eyes to the television, which still plays the credits of The Little Mermaid from our before bedtime movie.

he sighs, taking a seat on the opposite side of the couch. his hand reaches out to graze my leg and i flinch at the soft touch. the larger part of me wins and i rise from the couch, stalking off to our bedroom and away from him.

i quickly change into my pajamas, hoping to be out of the bedroom before he comes in, but i’m not so lucky.

he enters the room as i’m pulling my t-shirt over my head. my t-shirt. not his. he notices this change quickly and shakes his head.

he stands silently, his back leaning against the now closed door as i pull on sweatpants, watching my every move.

i move to the en-suite bathroom when i’m done. making quick work of washing my face and brushing my teeth. when i finally finish with my nightly routine, i head back out to the still blocked bedroom door.

Jack eyes me up and down, and a quick wetting of his lips tells me he’s horny, but i laugh inside at the thought.

does me angry and upset, turn him on? does he really think he has any chance of getting lucky tonight when he hasn’t even apologized?

“can you move?” i huff, crossing my arms.

“where are you going now?” he questions, shaking his head.

“Luke’s room. again.”

“you know we have a bed, right? the one you were in last night before you left me alone in here.” his words twist my heart, but i stand my ground.

“oh, you mean the same bed i was sitting in when you implied that i’m ungrateful and selfish?” i mock, tilting my head.

“lovie.” his tone is defensive enough to let me know that he doesn’t plan on apologizing tonight, so rather than waiting and hoping for Jack to move, i push him aside lightly with my shoulder and slip through the door.

i knock lightly on Luke’s door and it doesn’t take long for him to open it, letting me slip through into the room.

“you guys are still fighting?” Luke asks, shutting the door and walking over to sit on his bed.

“i promise, this is the last time i’ll sleep in your room. if we’re still fighting tomorrow night, i’ll sleep on the couch.” i assure him, crawling up the bed and laying on my side, facing him.

“i don’t have a problem with you sleeping in here, lovie.” he sighs, laying down on his side so that we lay face to face. “i’ve just never seen you guys fight like this, ya know? you guys are usually so in love, it just scares me to see you fight. i want the best for both of you.”

my eyes soften and i raise my hand, running it softly through Luke’s unruly curls.

“Lukey, i’m still madly in love with your brother. one fight isn’t gonna change that.” i tell him. “he said some things that hurt me. i said things that i’m sure hurt him too. but we’ll get through this. we love each other.”

i speak with assurance, but at this point, i’m not sure if i’m reassuring Luke, or myself.

“you should go to sleep, bubs. you have practice in the morning.” i press a kiss to Luke’s forehead before he turns his bedside lamp off and flops down on his side, his back now facing me.

i follow suit, my back facing Luke as i close my eyes and let myself drift to sleep.

***

i’m woken up by little hands smacking my cheeks, immediately followed by the sound of my husbands whispers.

“oh no, El, we don’t smack mommy. we’re gentle.” he tells her softly, and soon after, i feel her open mouth press against my cheek; her version of a kiss.

my eyes flutter open and i’m met by the smiling face of my daughter. she’s held hovering above me by Jack, who seems worried for my reaction.

“hi, baby!” i coo, a smile stretching over my lips as i take her from him. “good morning, beautiful!”

“mama!” she cheers, followed by a steady stream of babbling.

“she woke up a couple hours ago. she was looking for you.” Jack tells me. “i just changed her diaper, and she already ate breakfast, but i noticed she’s been chewing on everything this morning, so i threw a couple of her teething toys in the freezer and she’ll probably want a popsicle soon to sooth her gums.”

i look up at him and nod, acknowledging that i heard him, before i sit up and lay El down on the bed, tickling her tummy and listening to her joyous giggles fill the room.

“Luke and i are off to practice, we’re running late.” he runs his hand over El’s hair, leaning down and kissing her forehead before turning to look at me again. “Luke said he wants to take El to the park after we get back. he said for me to ask you if you can have her dressed and her diaper bag ready for when he and i get back.”

“yeah, i can do that.” i reply and he nods, pushing off the bed and laying a kiss on my own forehead before he leaves the room.

i heave out a sigh, looking down at El, who’s already looking up at me.

“you wanna go take a shower with mommy?” i baby talk, pasting a smile back on my face. she smiles right back, grabbing at my shirt. “yeah, you do. you love showers, don’t you? my little water baby.”

*

El is all dressed and ready to go when Jack and Luke arrive home, while i stick the last snack into her diaper bag.

“hey, lovie.” Luke chimes, throwing an arm around my shoulder and squeezing my head into his chest. “she ready?”

“mhm! she should be good to go.” i confirm as i push out of his hold, stuffing the bag into his arms instead. “you have the stroller, right?”

“yeah, i’m taking Jack’s car and it’s already in the trunk.” he confirms, slinging the diaper bag over his shoulder and scooping his niece up from where she was already staring up at him by his legs.

“alright, say bye-bye to mommy and daddy!” Luke sings out, waving to us. El copies him, waving her entire arm about in order to wave goodbye, and with that, they’re out the door; leaving Jack and i in silence.

i busy myself by picking up the toys strewn about the living room floor, while Jack unloads the dishwasher. but tension lingers in the air.

maybe i should just apologize.

i hate this feeling.

i hate not being cuddled up with him right now.

we usually spend any El free hours curled up in our bed. napping, watching a movie, talking, or just taking part in general bedroom activities.

but instead, we’re across the room from each other, doing daily household chores and trying hard to avoid the screaming silence between us.

i drop a barbie into the toy box and stand up straight, looking towards my husband, who’s already staring at me with gentle eyes.

“i’m sorry.” i sigh, squeezing my eyes shut, holding my hands to my face. “i hate fighting.”

his hurried footsteps click against the wooden floors, stopping when he gets in front of me. his hands come up to mine, delicately pulling them away from my face before his arms encircle my waist.

“i hate it too.” he whispers, and i know his words hold a double meaning. he hates fighting and he hates leaving.

“i shouldn’t have said the things that i did. i shouldn’t have taken my bad mood out on you.” i let my head bob forward, my forehead laying against his chest. “i was tired, and i was angry at the situation, but not at you. never at you. you’re providing for our family, and i’m so glad that you get to do that by doing something you love.”

he kisses the top of my head, his lips lingering on my scalp.

“i’m sorry too.” he mumbles against me.

“i’m sorry for making it seem like i was mom-shaming you, i should’ve chosen my words more carefully. i’m sorry for making you feel bad. i’m sorry for accusing you of saying i don’t love her, i know that’s not what you were saying. and most of all, i’m sorry for implying that you were ungrateful. you’re not. i know you’re not. i should’ve never implied that you were.

“you’re an amazing mom, lovie. the best i could’ve ever hoped for El. i should’ve been more understanding about how hard it is for you to take care of her alone while i’m gone.”

i peer up at him, my chin still resting on his chest, and give him a pointed look.

“and i’m sorry for not calling you ‘lovie’.” he huffs out through a laugh. the corners of my mouth quirk up and i pull his head down to push our lips together.

my whole body melts even further into his, finally at peace for the first time in over two weeks.

[jflemings]

— let the light in

pairing: jessie fleming x reader part 2

synopsis: for jessie’s benefit, you end your relationship

warnings: depression, bed rotting, suicidal ideation, self depreciation, isolation, toxic!reader if you squint

a/n: take the warnings seriously and look after yourselves pls <3

as much as you knew you needed jessie, there was no way you were going to allow yourself to hold onto her so tightly. it was a repeated and ongoing cycle that you had been trapped in for years now and it seemed to only be getting worse.

“we can’t be together anymore” you murmur into your half empty cup “i can’t do it”

jessie sits across from you with her mouth agape. “if i’ve done something wrong i can fix it” she says, her voice cracking slightly as she pleads “this can be fixed, let. me. fix. it.”

a heaviness settles behind your eyes as you shake your head “there’s nothing to fix. i’m sorry”

it was as easy as walking out the door and leaving her sitting in her kitchen alone. the bag of your things had weighed your shoulder down as you dragged your feet all the way to your car, not once ever looking back in fear of turning around.

it left you here, laying in bed with the curtains drawn and your phone on do not disturb as you stare blankly at the wall. you had become a shell of the person you think you once were, someone who had hobbies and dreams, someone who wanted to build a life worth living. instead you take sick leave so that you don’t have to get out of bed, you let the dishes pile up in the sink when you do decide to eat and you clear a pathway out of your shit on the floor so you can get to your ensuite bathroom.

the numbness that had overtaken you didn’t allow you to cry, no matter how much you think you wanted too. you were drained. there was nothing left for you to give yourself. it was sick, really, the way your brain could play tricks on you and make you believe you weren’t deserving of the life that you have been given. why would you be? there was absolutely nothing to show for it. all you had was a bed with dirty sheets and a brain that told you death was better than anything else you have ever experienced.

your therapist had told you once that because you hadn’t acted on it, it was merely a way for you to cope without committing. a way to wallow, to escape, from a life that you weren’t ever sure you wanted in the first place. she said that people who have depression but don’t kill themselves will fantasise about it but not pick a date or a means to an end.

only, at one point, you had picked a date. you had closed your eyes and twirled your finger in the air before landing on a wednesday two weeks away. you’d marked it with a red dot and then began clearing out things you didn’t want, giving your belongings to charity or throwing them away before neatly organising what you had left. you thought that your family could decide what to do with them. you didn’t care, you were gonna be dead after all.

it was when your coffee machine had finally broken on you that morning did jessie come swinging into your life. you decided to go to a local coffee shop you liked when she pushed the door open too hard and smacked you square in the face. she had gone bright red and apologised profusely, telling you that the door had slipped out of her grip and that she didn’t even see you. you, with a hand pressed firmly to your forehead, had told her that it was okay, that it was just an accident.

maybe it was her smile, or the way her eyes looked when you actually made eye contact, but something about the canadian had stopped you dead in your tracks. she asked if you wanted to sit with her with the promise of not hitting you in the face again, to which you agreed with a laugh. you began telling eachother about yourselves, from where and how you grew up to hobbies and small quirks you had. when the topic of careers had come around you sheepishly told her that you didn’t watch football beyond the odd match when it was already on tv, and she had beamed at you and cheekily said that she’ll make a blue out of you in no time.

you didn’t go through with it, obviously, and jessie still doesn’t know that she quite literally saved your life that day. your relationship with jessie quickly blossomed and bloomed, soon becoming the most grounding thing in your life. jessie showed you that she loved you long before she told you and never once did she make you feel like you weren’t loved, there were just times where you knew you were hard to love.

like in the beginning when you’d practically ghosted her for three days and then came back with a half assed explanation and a bouquet of flowers; or when you’d completely shut her out and pretend like nothing was wrong when she could see the bags under your eyes and the mess around your apartment. you knew that her friends had told her that it wasn’t a good relationship to be in, that maybe you weren’t who she thought you were. she had brushed them off and ran back to you time and time again.

looking back on it you think that maybe it’s because she knew how bad it was getting, like she caught onto your badly kept secret before you even knew you really had one. when you had initially told her about your depression you insisted that you were doing a lot better and that even though you would have times of relapse, it was nothing compared to how it had been in the past.

the lie had kept up until there were things you were too ashamed to explain to her. like why she couldn’t come over or why you looked like you hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in a few weeks. you didn’t know how to tell the footballer that your mental health had sipped out of your control, that you needed help and didn’t know how to ask for it. you didn’t know how to look your own girlfriend in the eye and tell her that you needed her.

that was when you knew it had to end.

when jessie came around to collect her things you just left them in a box outside your front door. you heard her knock but didn’t move from your position as she left with the last pieces of her you had.

she wasn’t stupid, despite the fact that for most of your relationship you clearly thought she was. she noticed the change in your behaviour and how you didn’t go out with friends as much or eat enough. she noticed the late night and even later mornings, the pile of dirty laundry you’d been putting off and the pills you tried to hide.

jessie wasn’t stupid.

when she pleaded to you to fix it, she meant fix you. she wanted you to take the weight off your shoulders and put it on hers because hers are stronger than yours anyway, they can hold more. she wanted you to let her help with the laundry, and to help clean your place. she wanted you to let her wash your hair and make you a good home cooked meal. jessie wanted nothing more than for you to be vulnerable with her, to admit that you needed her just this once.

as much as you adored her, absolutely worshiped the ground she walked on, you weren’t going to do that for her. jessie has a decorated career, one to be proud of, and the last thing she needed was to worry about whether or not you were going to get out of bed in the morning. she didn’t need the extra weight from your baggage dragging her down.

she deserved better, someone who could get up early enough to go for coffee after her morning run, someone who could actually make dinner with her and eat it, someone who didn’t have to create a fucking pathway from their bed to their bathroom because they haven’t cleaned their room in god knows how long. jessie deserved someone worth loving and in your mind, that someone just wasn’t you.

[fortuositywritings]

Never Gonna Happen Masterlist

Wanda x F!Reader, Fluff, Jealous!Wanda

Summary: How is Wanda supposed to turn you down when you stop showing up?

Something is off, Wanda notices far too quickly. She tells herself it’s because Clint taught her to be perceptive and it has nothing to do with you personally. 

Clint taught her about looking for patterns and knowing when something isn’t right. There is nothing wrong about Wanda not seeing you first thing in the morning in the kitchen handing her a mug of freshly brewed coffee prepared the way she likes it, but it’s definitely a break in your pattern. 

Maybe you’ve overslept, Wanda reasons. She moves to the coffee maker, turning it on and then places a bagel in the toaster. Leaning back against the counter as she waits, an odd feeling stirs in her stomach. It’s quiet in the kitchen. She’s grown used to you chatting her ear off in the mornings. One would think you’ve had 3 cups of coffee by the time you hand Wanda her mug but she knows you don’t like coffee all that much. You typically join Wanda for breakfast with a bowl of cereal for yourself. What they put in the milk for you to be chirpy so early, she doesn’t know.

The sound of the bagel popping from the toaster startles her out of her thoughts. As she prepares her coffee, she hears footsteps approaching the kitchen. “Oversleep?” she asks, not bothering to look away from her task.

“No, I think I slept too much yesterday actually,” Steve’s voice rings throughout the kitchen. Not the voice Wanda was expecting. 

“Sorry, I thought you were Y/N.” 

“No, I think I saw her walking with Bruce to his lab a few minutes ago,” he claims, walking over to the fridge to grab a water bottle. 

“Oh,” Wanda responds, the surprise in her tone not slipping by Steve’s ears. 

“Why? Did you need her?” He raises his eyebrows in question. “I’m heading in that direction. I can-

“No. No, I don’t. Thank you though,” Wanda cuts him off before he can offer to call you over. 

“Okay.” Thankfully he shrugs off their interaction. The last thing Wanda needs is for Steve to tell you she was looking for you. It wouldn’t do her any good in proving Natasha wrong. Wanda is not leading you on.

***

“Don’t touch that.”

You huff annoyed but back away from the item on the work table. Another shiny object calls your attention. You lean in to get a closer look. 

“Or that.”

“Ugh, you’re no fun,” you complain.

“If contracting an infection that slowly eats away at your skin sounds like fun to you, then by all means, have at it,” Bruce sarcastically replies while simultaneously typing away at his computer, doing who knows what. Something science-y. 

“Gross,” you respond and move on to something else to amuse yourself with. 

“Not that I mind you hanging around here, but why are you here exactly?” Bruce asks from behind his screen. 

“Maybe I’ve decided this science stuff might be my thing,” you shrug, running your finger over one of the tables holding various vials and beakers. 

“‘Science stuff’?” Bruce repeats amused. 

“Yeah, you know, mitosis and so on,” you insist. “I don’t know. It could be my thing.”

You grab a pair of safety goggles off one of the tables and put them on. “How do I look?” 

You turn to Bruce who is having trouble holding in a laugh. “What? Do I look that bad in goggles? Maybe this isn’t my thing.”

He steps away from his computer to fix your goggles. “Maybe not. You had them upside down.”

“No wonder. I felt it digging at my nose,” you admit, rubbing the area where you are sure the goggles left a line. 

“Seriously, why are you here?”

“Can’t I pay my good friend Bruce a visit once in a while?” you challenge, but he doesn’t buy it for a second.

“Not when you are usually having breakfast with Wanda. Or did she send you away that quickly already?” he laughs. “I thought she was getting along with you lately or at least less annoyed by you.”

“I thought so too,” you mumble.

“So she did send you away?”

“No, she did not send me away. I didn’t go see her today in fact,” you tell him. 

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. I just didn’t,” you reply, unconvincingly. Bruce crosses his arms against his chest and looks at you in disbelief. “You didn’t want to see Wanda. That can’t be true.”

“Jeez, I can go a day without wanting to see Wanda. Not everything revolves around her.”

“You usually do.”

“You make it sound like I’m obsessed with her.”

Bruce gives you a pointed look and you sheepishly admit, “Okay, maybe a little. But maybe she made it clear that she doesn’t want to go out with me and I should stop suffocating her with my presence.”

“She said that? That you’re suffocating her?” He’s heard Wanda reject you plenty of times but never so harshly.

“Not those exact words, but that was the jist. I overheard her talking to Natasha,” you confess.

“So she didn’t say it to you. Maybe you heard wrong.”

“No. I didn’t. It was loud and clear. She wants me to stop bothering her. So that’s what I’m doing,” you explain. You try not to sound so hurt by the situation but Bruce can see right through you. 

“I’m sorry to hear that. I know you really like her,” Bruce sympathizes. He pats your shoulder trying to comfort you. 

You clear your throat, “Yeah, well that’s life. Now distract me. Tell me about yours. What’s going on with you?”

Clearly wanting to move on from the Wanda mess, you move on to a different topic and Bruce allows it. “You know my cousin, the lawyer?”

“Jennifer, yes.”

“You remember her name?”

“Yeah, you introduced me to her like two years ago when we were in California for that Expo in San Francisco. Also, she’s making waves with the whole She-Hulk thing.”

“Right, anyway, she’s coming to New York for a bit to get away after a whole lot of drama. She’s got a late flight tonight so we’re going to have lunch tomorrow.”

“That sounds nice, catching up with your cousin. Where are you going to eat?” 

“You know that place like two blocks from here that just opened last month?”

“Yes! I’ve been wanting to try it so bad but haven’t had the chance to go yet.” Truth be told you were hoping to take Wanda there so you could both try it together but obviously that’s not happening. Nothing is stopping you from going there by yourself now. 

“Oh, if you want, you can come eat with me and Jen tomorrow?” Bruce offers.

“Oh, no. That’s nice of you to offer but I don’t want to intrude on your cousin time,” you refute.

“Please, I’ve had plenty of cousin bonding time with her this past year. Trust me.” You still hesitate to answer so he continues, “Seriously, you would be doing me a favor. Sometimes I feel like she needs an audience to listen to her.”

“Okay, okay. No need to beg me. I’ll go,” you concede, chuckling. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

Bruce knows you are thanking him for more than just inviting you to eat. He nods letting the rest go unsaid as he gets back to his computer planning to get work done. A minute of silence goes by and that’s too long for someone like you. 

“Don’t touch that.”

“Damn it.”

***

“We were wondering where you were,” Nat says the moment you step into the kitchen to eat dinner with the rest. You aren’t late necessarily, but seeing as how you are typically the first one to come down to help Wanda, it was a little unusual not to see you already in the kitchen by the time everyone was being called to eat. 

“I did a little overtime at the gym today and still had to shower,” you explain, pointing at your wet hair like you need to prove you’re not lying, which of course Natasha finds suspicious. Lucky for you she doesn’t say anything. 

“If you say so,” she replies and hands you a plate for you to serve yourself. You take it and walk over to the stove to serve yourself some chicken and vegetables. You feel someone move beside you as you scoop some vegetables onto your plate. You don’t have to look to know who it is as their scent makes its way to your nose winning over the smell of the food that looks so delicious. 

“It seems you had a busy day today,” Wanda begins. “Usually by this time I’ve seen you at least two or three times.”

“Yeah. Had a rough wake up call, I guess. I decided to get an early start.” You try your damndest not to sound bitter, but you know it doesn’t come out as nonchalant as you wish. 

Wanda frowns, following behind you as you make your way to the table to eat. It’s weird for you to walk away from her without at least trying to continue the conversation. It feels awkward being the one to trail behind you. But more awkward is the moment when she stands idly by an empty seat waiting for you to pull it out for her only to have to do it herself when she realizes after a moment too long that you aren’t going to do it this time. It’s torturous avoiding looking in Wanda’s direction, who you can feel is staring right at you after seating herself for the first time in months.

Obviously this change in routine doesn’t go unnoticed. Sitting at a table full of highly trained operatives, it’s expected they notice the shift in your behavior. You also know they’ve been trained to read body language. Maybe if you keep your head down and stuff your mouth full of vegetables, they’ll let it go for your sake.

“That was weird.”

But then again, minding their own business has never been this team’s forte. 

“I never thought I’d see Wanda pick up a chair again,” Sam jokes, making the team chuckle and nod in agreement. He looks at you, an unspoken question in the air. You shrug, trying to act cool. “She said she could do it herself. Maybe it’s time I listened.”

There’s tension in the air, you can feel it. Trying to ignore it, you direct your attention to your food while everyone else directs their attention to Wanda to see her reaction. Wanda hates everyone staring, and maybe it’s because she feels you’re to blame for it that she says what she says next with a little bit of snark towards you. 

“Only took like a hundred times, but she finally listens, everybody!” Wanda laughs like it’s a light hearted joke but it is impossible to miss sharp undertones. 

“Don’t worry, Wanda. I hear you loud and clear,” you assure her with a bitter smile. She looks at you confused, wondering why you seem upset with her. What did she do? It’s you who is always bothering her, not the other way around. Bruce, uncomfortable with this little moment, clears his throat in order to garner everyone’s attention and changes the topic. 

You resume eating, adding some ketchup onto your chicken. Though as delicious as the food is, it’s a little hard to enjoy your meal when the chef of this very plate has been quietly poking at her plate. You assume her loss of appetite is due to your interaction. The guilt slowly creeps up on you. You didn’t mean to upset her. That’s the last thing you’d ever want to do. You try to keep to yourself during dinner so as to not further dampen her mood, but try as you may to listen to Bucky and Steve’s seemingly amusing story, your focus never strays too far from Wanda. Watching her play with her food and never taking a bite is driving you insane. You’ve got to say something. 

“Add some ketchup,” you tell her. 

“What?” She stops poking at her food to look at you. 

“That’s what I do when it comes out too salty. Add some ketchup,” you repeat, nodding toward her plate. You’d never consider Wanda’s food salty. You just need some bait and fortunately she takes it. 

“Are you saying my food is salty?” she asks defensively. 

“I’m saying that sometimes I need a little ketchup with it,” you tease her. “Maybe this is one of those sometimes.”

She scoffs, “This doesn’t need ketchup.”

“How would you know? You haven’t touched your food. Doesn’t inspire much confidence in the food if the chef won’t even eat it,” you quip. 

She narrows her eyes at you before taking a forkful of her meal into her mouth to prove her point. She stares at you the whole time she chews, rather dramatically you may add.

“See. Perfectly fine.” She leans back in her chair, looking at you with a raised eyebrow like she is daring you to challenge her. One bite of her meal wasn’t going to satisfy you, so challenge accepted. 

“Now try it with some ketchup,” you insist. You grab the ketchup bottle and move it over her plate like you are going to put some on her chicken. She reacts quickly, moving her plate away. “It doesn’t need ketchup.”

“You haven’t tried it with it,” you retort. “Just try it.”

You offer her your plate instead to pick off from. She sighs dejectedly but takes a bite from your plate. You can tell she doesn’t hate it, but already know her stubborn personality will not allow you to have this one. “It’s better without ketchup.”

This time you reach over to pick some food off of her plate. You hum in agreement after swallowing. “You’re right,” you say, and then reach for her plate again, but she impedes you from taking anything by smacking your hand. “Nope. You have your own plate.”

“But mine already has ketchup on it,” you explain, making a move for her food again. She moves her plate out of reach, giggling, “It’s not my fault you pour ketchup all over your food like a heathen.”

“Come on. Be nice,” you pout.

“You called my food salty. This is me being nice,” she replies, taunting you by taking another big scoop of her food and eating with a big smile on her face. You pretend to be hurt by it but in truth you are fighting off a smile of your own as you both finish your meals, refocusing your attention on the group.

Avoiding Wanda and treating her as if she’s done something wrong is not the way to go. It’s not her fault she doesn’t feel the same way about you. She’s basically told you so from day one, so it is unreasonable for you to behave the way you had earlier. There’s no point in making her feel bad for something neither of you can control. You can be friends with Wanda, you decide. All you have to do is tone it down and you’ll be fine. 

Wanda’s sweet aroma fills your senses as she leans towards you to pick the last bit of your ketchup tainted chicken off your plate. When you look at her she simply shrugs and gives you an innocent smile that makes your heart skip a beat.

You’ll be fine.

***

“Have you seen Y/N?”

“What’s this? Wanda Maximoff looking for Y/N and not the other way around?” Sam teases, making Wanda roll her eyes. “Has the day you give her a chance actually come?”

Wanda scoffs, “I wouldn’t bet on it.”

“Guess not,” Sam mutters. 

“Have you seen her or not?” Wanda sighs. 

“Shouldn’t I be asking you? She’s always following you around.”

“I’ll ask someone else,” Wanda grumbles. This is the third person she’s asked who teases her but gives her no straight answer. Before she can walk too far Sam stops her. “Hey, wait. I’m just playing with you. What’s up? Why do you need her?”

“No reason. Just want to know that she is bringing the good snacks for movie night.” Wanda shrugs nonchalantly, but Sam doesn’t quite buy it. He narrows his eyes, “Are you sure that’s it? No other reason?”

“What other reason would there be?” Wanda challenges and Sam has a lot to say, but he can tell he is getting on her last nerve so he backs off. 

“Last I saw her, she said she was meeting Jennifer and some other friends for drinks,” Sam answers.

“Oh? She’s going out with Jennifer again,” Wanda mutters. Sam doesn’t miss the tone in which she says Jennifer. “She’s been hanging out with her a lot, don’t you think?”

“Someone sounds jealous,” Sam insinuates with a smirk.

“What? No. What is there to be jealous of?” Wanda splutters. 

“I don’t know. Someone coming in and taking up all of Y/N’s attention. Maybe you are feeling a little neglected? Maybe you are worried someone is sweeping your Y/N away,” Sam continues. 

“She’s not my Y/N,” Wanda argues. “She can hang out with whoever she wants. It doesn’t bother me.”

“Okay,” Sam chuckles, further frustrating Wanda. Not wanting to participate anymore in this conversation Wanda storms off muttering something about Sam being nosy or annoying under her breath. Bruce hears some of it in passing while making his way to Sam.

“What did you do?” he accuses Sam, who in turn plays innocent. 

“Why do you assume I did anything?”

“Maybe because she said ‘he’s so annoying’ while walking away from you,” Bruce replies. 

“I just told her that Y/N is out with your cousin and maybe hinted at them becoming a thing,” Sam admits with a shrug like it’s no big deal.

Bruce sighs, “Why would you do that? And Jen is already dating someone. I think.”

“Well Wanda doesn’t know that. And maybe this way, she can realize that Y/N is not going to wait around forever for her,” Sam counters. 

“Stop meddling,” Bruce demands. “Let them figure it out on their own.”

You haven’t been ignoring Wanda, not like that first day after you told yourself to quit chasing after her. You join her in the mornings for breakfast. You have her coffee ready by the time she enters the kitchen. You still joke and tease. You still smile at her when you pass each other in the hallways.

To an outsider, you are behaving like you always have, but Wanda is no outsider. She notices the little changes. You don’t pull out her chair anymore during dinner. You don’t daydream while staring at Wanda at the latest team meeting in the conference room. In fact, you only bothered to glance at her when she had something to say. Usually Tony or Steve have to call you out for not paying attention to what they are saying with a comment like “L/N, I don’t pay you to stare at Maximoff. Eyes up here.”  

And now you are skipping movie night! You love movie night. After two fights and some negotiation, you even have a special reserved seat next to Wanda for these nights that you definitely take advantage of. Wanda forgoes wearing sweaters during movie nights because you always sneak your arm over her shoulder. The first few times you’ve done it, she’s shrugged you off but recently she’s happy she’s got her own little warmer in the cold room. Tonight she brings a sweater and Bucky sits in your spot. 

She tries her best to focus on the movie but finds herself paying more attention to whoever is walking in and out of the room, subconsciously hoping your night ends early. She tells herself it’s because she’s cold and too lazy to go searching for a blanket. Not because she misses you or anything, just your warmth.

You come home nearing midnight. Wanda only knows this because she was leaving her room to refill her water bottle while you were walking to yours. You are typing on your phone. Probably texting Jennifer, Wanda thinks. “Have a good night?” she asks you.

“Huh?” You look up a little startled. “Oh, hey Wanda. Didn’t see you there.” Wanda grunts displeased but either you don’t hear it or you ignore it. “Yeah, I had fun. What about you? How was the movie?”

“It was really good. You missed out,” she lies. Honestly, she prays you don’t ask her what it was titled. All she knows is it was an action movie from all the loud noises that would pull her attention. Apart from that, she has no idea what they watched tonight. 

“I’ll have to watch it later then. Goodnight, Wanda,” you excuse yourself, leaving her in the hallway without a glance back while you enter your room. 

“Night,” she replies to a shut door. 

The next evening there is a moment in which Wanda thinks things may go back to normal and she can finally prove to Natasha that whatever she and you have going on is completely one sided. 

She feels a light press against her back as she’s cooking, almost a phantom touch really and there is a part of her that wishes you’d commit and move a little closer, but she quickly eradicates the thought.

“Smells great, Wands.”

Who was Sam trying to fool? Wanda knows she’s still got you wrapped around her finger. She smirks to herself before answering, “Japanese cherry blossom.”

“What?” You look at her confused.

“It’s the new lotion I got,” Wanda explains. 

“Oh, I was talking about dinner but I’m sure your lotion smells good also,” you reply, taking a step back, giving Wanda her room thinking you may be crowding her.

Today though you guess personal space isn’t a problem for Wanda. “Here, smell it,” she moves toward you and flips her hair over to one shoulder. She cranes her neck and looks at you expectantly. You guess she wants you to sniff her neck. You do so cautiously. You pretend you don’t notice the goosebumps arise on her skin and that it doesn’t get your heart beating faster. You move away quickly trying not to look so affected. “Yeah, it smells nice.” 

“Do you want to help me cook?” A question she never thought she’d ask you. 

“I still don’t know how to cook.” 

“Never too late to learn.” 

“As much as I’d love a lesson from Chef Maximoff tonight, I actually have somewhere to be. And I’m running late,” you inform her after checking your phone to look at the time, missing the way her smirk turns into a frown. “I’d say save me a plate but I know the guys too well.”

“Where’s Y/N?” Bucky asks as soon as Wanda sits down at the table.

“She said she had somewhere to be,” Wanda tells him. 

“Probably out with Jennifer again,” Sam jeers. 

“Again? What is that, like the third time this week?” Natasha questions. My thoughts exactly, Wanda thinks. 

“So are they like a thing now?” Bucky asks through a mouthful of food. Wanda does her best not to seem so invested, so when Nat teases her, “Guess you don’t have to worry about Y/N’s little crush now, huh?” Wanda hums and nods. She can’t fool the widow though. Nat notices Wanda’s grip on her fork tighten after Bucky’s question. 

“Nah, Bruce said Jennifer’s already dating somebody,” reveals Sam. 

“Guess you’re not off the hook just yet,” Nat pokes fun at Wanda. Wanda rolls her eyes at Natasha’s remark but internally she sighs out of relief. Though the subject changes, Wanda is stuck on why she feels some sort of satisfaction finding out you aren’t dating Jennifer. 

She has an idea about why that is when she places a sticky note with your name on it on the plate she saved for you in the refrigerator. 

_________________________________________________________________

A/N: Long time, no see. That’s on me. Sorry. I had this ready for last Saturday but my laptop is refusing to turn on. I’m using my brother’s to post this. I hope I got everyone in the taglist who asked. See you in another 6 months! (jk) I’m working on the next chapter already. Probably good for next week.

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[specialagentlokitty]

Hannibal lector x reader - unravelling

Part 1:

Sitting down on the back of the bench, you rested your arms on your knees as you glanced at the man next to you, taking the coffee cup from him to drink some.

“You know we can’t survive on coffee alone, when are you going to actually eat a proper meal?”

“Shut up Kyle.”

He grinned a little at you, taking the coffee cup back to take a sip from it.

“You coming by later?”

You nodded your head, grabbing his arm so you could take a look at his watch.

“Yeah, I’ve got nothing else to do.”

“So you’re not blowing off your boss? Or your therapy?”

Scoffing, you rolled your eyes.

“Don’t even go into it.”

“I won’t, but I reckon those three might.”

He pointed to the side and you turned to look at the three men walking over and you sighed heavily, snatching the coffee cup from him, downing the rest.

“Come on! That was mine!” Kyle whined.

“I’ll buy you another, I’m going to need it trust me.”

He hummed a little bit, standing up, holding his fist out to you.

“Catch you on the other side.”

You nodded, tapping your fist against his, and he mock saluted to three that had stopped just in front of you before he walked away.

You turned to the three that had came over.

“What?” You asked.

“Hannibal says you’ve been avoiding your therapy sessions.” Will frowned.

You shrugged a little bit, running a hand through your hair, climbing down from the bench in front of them all.

Crossing your arms, you turned your attention to Jack, narrowing your eyes a little bit.

“Told you I’m not part of the FBI anymore, stop getting involved in my life.”

“We’re concerned, we’re your friends, we want to make sure you’re alright and we can’t do that if you keep declining all of our calls.”

“Yeah, well maybe you should’ve thought about that before you sent me on a case alone without backup.”

Walking past, you stopped by Hannibal, offering him a small nod of your head.

“Doctor Lector, I’d appreciate if you cancelled all future appointments.”

“Perhaps we could talk about this beforehand?” He asked.

You didn’t say anything as you walked away, making your way to the bar you had began to call a second home, sitting yourself on a stool.

“The usual?” The woman asked.

“And a cigarette if you’ve got one Anna.”

She smiled at you, sliding a glass over to you, and you took a sip from it, taking the cigarette she had just lit.

You took a drag, and pointed to a few of the bottles behind her.

“Might wanna hide them.”

“Doves?”

You shook your head, pulling your phone out of your pocket to show her all of the missed calls and texts from everybody.

She nodded, placing all the things under the counter, and she leant over it, taking your phone so she could read through everything.

“You ever thought maybe therapy could help?”

“With that? It isn’t going to lead me to the person I’m looking for.”

She gave a small nod.

“Maybe not, but come on (Y/N) we all know what you’ve been through. It could help make everything clear. You’re so hell bent on this you’re going to get yourself killed doing it.”

You glared a little bit at Anna.

“I don’t care, the asshole that fucked my life deserves the same amount of shit that I’ve been through.”

She sighed softly, pulling at your longish hair a little bit.

“Can I at least give you a haircut, this is getting out of hand and you look like you live in the wild.”

“What you thinking?”

She hummed a little bit, walking around the bar and stood in front of you with her hands on her hips as she tilted her head to the side.

“I’m kind of thinking a mullet, you know like shave around the sides, you can still style it however you want. Plus I really want to see if it’s gonna grow back white or (H/C).”

You laughed a little, shrugging your shoulders.

“Go nuts Anna, do whatever.”

She grinned brightly, and dragged a chair over to the middle of the bar, and you sat on it while you waited for her to finish with your hair.

You were just having a small talk with her while she cut your hair, and when she finished she ruffled it, handing you a mirror while she cleaned up.

You looked at it, brushing your hair aside to look at the shaved sides, and you stood up, setting the mirror on the chair.

Bending your head down, you ruffled your hair for a few seconds before standing up, brushing it back with your hand.

“I like it, it’s refreshing to have a new look in a way.”

“Wasn’t a hairdresser for years for no reason.”

“It’s still weird you decided to open a bar for ghouls instead but you do you Anna.”

She laughed, going back behind the bar and held up your phone that had started to ring again.

“It’s your therapist.”

“Decline it.”

She hung up on Hannibal, and you stayed there for a few hours, meeting Kyle there for a little while before heading back to your apartment.

You went for a shower, and stood in front of the covered mirror as you dried your hair, tossing the towel aside as you pulled a sweater on, trying not to look at the large scar across your stomach.

Leaving your bathroom, you went to the kitchen to make yourself some coffee, and you walked to the living room to turn on the Tv while you waited for it to be ready.

“Hey.”

You turned to the front door, looking at the slightly beat up man that walked through.

“Doves?”

“More and more out each day. Here.”

He tossed your a neatly wrapped package in brown paper, and you caught it, heading to the kitchen to put it on a plate.

You grabbed your coffee and plate, sitting down to eat while you watched whatever was going on with the world at the moment.

Finishing the food you were given you set the plate down, picking up your coffee cup, taking a couple of sips as your roommate came back out.

“Seriously don’t leave that shit laying around.”

He took your plate, going to wash it for you.

“Sam?”

You heard him hum a little bit.

“Anna said I should stop hunting the man who did this to me.”

“Do you think you should?”

He walked out from the kitchen, leaning against the doorway, crossing his arms.

“No. I mean come on, if he did this to me then who knows how many he’s already done this too, or how many more he’s planning.”

Sam nodded his head.

“Do you think he’ll do it again?”

“You’ve got to be seriously fucked to put ghoul organs in a human just to see if it would work.”

Sam sighed a little bit, walking over to sit in front of you on the table.

“All I’ll say is don’t act rashly (Y/N), with the doves crawling about, on the hunt for ghouls, trying to track down members of the hell hounds. Which means you’re in twice as much danger.”

You sighed, nodding your head as you slumped back into the couch.

“Look, I’m going to do whatever I have to do Sam, plus you didn’t have to follow me.”

“Considering you’re still pretty new to our world, and you’re currently running ranks in the biggest ghoul organisation in the state, and you just took over three wards of the city, I’m going to say I did.”

You smiled a little bit.

“You’re a good friend.”

He shrugged a little bit.

“It’s easier to pay rent with you living here, so can’t exactly have you dying on me.”

“Wow, okay and I thought we were friends.”

He scoffed a little bit.

“Yeah, liked I’d be friends with a once human. That’s gross.”

“Aw come on Sam!”

You reached out to hug him and he pushed you back down on the couch, standing up as there was a knock on the door.

“Get away from me.”

You chuckled a little bit, watching as he went to answer the door, and you got up to go make yourself some more coffee.

You took a deep breath, and froze slightly, turning your attention to the doorway as Sam and Will appeared.

“Visitor.”

“Thanks Sam. Coffee?”

“Going to the bar.”

You nodded, turning to Will, gesturing to the coffee and he nodded his head so you made him a cup as well, handing it over to him.

You walked back to the couch, sitting down, and he sat down where Sam had been sat a few minutes ago.

“You cut your hair. Why?”

“It was about time, it was getting in the way. Why’re you here Will?”

He set his cup down.

“Because you need help, your accident was nearly two years ago (Y/N), you quite the FBI just over a year ago, now you’re abandoning your therapy?”

“I don’t need therapy, I’m fine.”

“You went missing for three months.”

“Needed time away.”

You took a sip of your coffee.

“You moved apartments, changed your whole friend group, appearance. I know you (Y/N), I grew up with you and this isn’t you.”

“Look Will, I got my life you have yours. Leave it at that.”

He shook his head.

“No. No something is off about you. Different.”

“Yeah, I was in an accident were I was in a horrific car accident. I think that kind of shit changes people Will.”

“That’s why you need to talk to Hannibal, come on please. The FBI are paying for it, so you don’t have to worry about that. You won’t talk to me, so please talk to somebody.”

Will looked at you, white hair, emotionless (E/C) eyes, you looked paler and skinner than the last time he had seen you a few months ago.

“I don’t recognise you anymore…” he whispered.

“Yeah. Maybe it’s for the better.”

You downed your coffee, and went back into the kitchen hoping that he would get the hint and leave, but he didn’t.

He walked into the kitchen, standing against the counter.

“Please just come by Hannibal’s office tomorrow evening. Think about it (Y/N), we all want to help you.”

Will gave you a small smile and he left, leaving you to think about what he had said.

You spent the whole night awake thinking about it as you sat at your desk, going through your medical files like you did every night.

Nothing ever changed, you never saw anything different, but you kept looking just in case.

You didn’t leave your room at all the following day, your phone kept lighting up with texts telling you to meet Will and Hannibal’s office.

As evening rolled around, you finally left your room, making your way into the living room where Sam was sat on the couch.

“Some dude came looking for your earlier, told him you weren’t home.”

“Will?”

“Jack Crawford. Wanted to talk to you about the accident.”

You hummed a little, grabbing your jacket.

“Going out.”

Sam pushed himself up, grabbing his own jacket as he trailed after you, hands stuffed in his pockets as he followed you out to the street where you melted into the people walking by.

“You don’t have to follow me.”

Sam didn’t say anything, and you glanced back at him before going back to walking about.

“Seriously? You called Kyle?”

“Not letting you walk around undefended in this state of mind.”

“I have to agree with hardass here.” Kyle said.

You sighed a little, crossing boundaries into the ward that had been overrun by ghouls.

It was mostly abandoned by people now, and as you emerged on the otherside of the alleyway you pulled on your skull mask, pulling on your gloves.

A few ghouls stopped to glance at you but didn’t do anything, and you carried on walking to the old fountain, and you sat down.

“Don’t often see you around these parts.” Someone spoke.

You flicked your gaze up to the hooded figure, and you shrugged a little bit.

“Have you found anything?”

“Nothing new, got some inside intel about the doves wanting to do a takedown of this ward, but they can’t organise a task force big enough. They’re spreading into the fourth and fifth wards though.”

You nodded your head.

“Keep away from them, don’t interact unless you have too. Got it?”

“That’s no fun.”

You stood up, turning to face him.

“Listen to me, do. Not. Interact. Got it?” You said lowly.

He grumbled a little bit but nodded his head, agreeing with you.

“Whatever you say Grimm, I’ll pass the message along.”

“Good, if I heard about anyone fucking with the doves on purpose I’ll personally deal with them.”

“I expect nothing else.”

You carried on wondering around for a little while until you finally left the ward, hiding your mask in your jacket again as you made your way back into normal public.

Kyle and Sam were still close behind you, and you turned to Kyle.

“Can you ask Anna to keep an ear to the ground?”

“Yeah, will do.”

He wondered away, and Sam stepped in line with you.

Neither of you said anything, but when you went to walk back home he grabbed the back of your jacket, directing you down a different path instead.

“What the hell?”

“Get your ass into that damn therapists office, I can’t be having them coming by every day.”

He pushed you into the building and you sighed, walking to the office you had been avoiding and knocked on the door.

After hearing Hannibal call for you to come in, you pushed the door open, walking in with Sam behind you, and he stuffed his hands into his pockets, leaning against the wall.

“I see you brought a friend.” Hannibal said.

“I see you brought two.”

“We just want to talk, that’s all.” Jack said gently.

You turned around to look at Sam, and he left the room, leaving the four of you alone and you walked over, sitting down in the chair Hannibal offered you.

“What is there to talk about?”

“Your spiralling path into self destruction.” Jack sighed

[yelenasdiary]

Little!reader request! CG/sisters Nat and Yelena

Just a bunch of fluff of reader and her cgs who happen to be her sisters from the red room watching bluey together

Family Time

Pairing: Caregivers! Natasha Romanoff & Yelena Belova x Little! Reader

Summary: After finally getting you to settle down after a sugar high, your older sisters sit and watch your favourite cartoon together.

Comfort | No Warnings | 0.7K | 

AC: I’m Australian and I’ve never seen bluey, lmao. But I hope you enjoy this x also, please note, I am not a little and I write this purely based of research. If I have said anything incorrect, please don’t hesitate to message me via DM or asks. 

It was Yelena who had given you some soda in your sippy cup, maybe a mistake when she noticed how hyper you had gotten but it was hard for her to say no to her younger sister when you gave her your signature puppy eyes. She tried everything to get you to settle down before Natasha would return from the store, but nothing worked to keep your attention. Sitting down in the living room, surrounded by your toys and favorite plushies, she offered to do some arts and crafts with you. 

"But can't find crayons!" you pouted as Yelena placed your coloring book on the table. "Well, when was the last time you had them?" Yelena asked, unsure of where they'd be. 

"Sissy took them!" you replied, crossing your arms across your chest. 

To Yelena's relief, Natasha walks through the door with a welcoming smile. "Sissy! Where's crayons?" you asked as you sat down at the coffee table and opened up your coloring book. "If you're going to ask like that, you won't get them" Nat replies with a raised brow, reminding you to use your manners. 

"Sorry" you pouted, "can I please have my crayons?" you asked once more. 

Natasha whispered to Yelena that they were on top of the refrigerator. She had placed them there to stop you from chewing on them, snapping them in half or drawing on the walls. Yelena grabbed them and placed them in front of you before grabbing another one of your coloring books to join you. 

"Thank you Sis!" you smiled before grabbing an orange crayon. 

Natasha made peanut butter sandwiches for lunch, cutting off the crusts for you otherwise you wouldn't eat it. She filled your sippy cup with apple juice and placed it on your small plastic table. 

Since your older sisters saved you from Red Room, they've learnt a lot about you, things they didn't know before and together, they work as one to help give you everything you need. They love you more than life itself, you're their baby sister so anything you need, they'll do it. 

Given the events that took place in Red Room it was no surprise that your Psychologist informed your sisters that you age regress as a form of dealing with the trauma of Red Room. Both sisters did their research and they best to make sure you always felt comfortable and safe when you were feeling little, some days were harder than others. 

"Are you ready for lunch?" Nat came into the living room with another soft smile, you nodded before you realized how hungry you were then raced to your table. Natasha chuckled, "somebody is hungry!" she commented as she and Yelena followed you into the dining room. 

It was important to them that when you were feeling little that they help create a whole different childhood for you, everything mattered, even to the tiniest details. Mealtimes were to be eaten in the dining room as a family and there was a routine, they followed that they learned you loved and reacted well too. 

"After lunch wanna watch bluey" you spoke after taking a bite of your sandwich. 

"I'm sure we can watch bluey before your nap" Yelena replied, Natasha nodding in agreement, "do you want to change into your bluey shirt beforehand?" Nat asked. You nodded with excitement. 

For your birthday, Yelena had a shirt made just for you of your favorite Bluey character. The shirt brought you plenty of comfort and joy and you always wore it when you would watch the show. 

After lunch, Nat helped you change into your Bluey shirt before you both joined Yelena on the sofa who had already got Bluey ready. You made yourself comfortable between your two sisters, resting your head on Natasha's shoulder as you began to suckle your thumb. Yelena pressed play and watched as your eyes instantly lit up. 

Plenty of chuckles were shared between the three of you as you grew more and more tired as it came closer to your nap time. Yelena reached for a throw blanket before throwing it over the three of you. After a handful of episodes, you were softly snoring with your head still resting comfortably on Natasha's shoulder. 

The two older sisters smiled softly at one another, finally able to have family time like they had always dreamt of.

Taglist: @red1culous | @bentleywolf29 | @jeyramarie | @lissaaaa145 | @high--power | @parkerdaramitzzzz | @mmmmokdok | @wackymcstupid | @kiwiana145 | @valiantmugcowboyscissors | @observeowl  | @nattyolw | @ripofflizzie | @get-the-fuck-outta-here | @goofy-goonie | @makegoodchoices | @apollo2907 | @marvelfan98 | @wandaroman0ff | @dumb-fawkin-bitch | @lovelyy-moonlight | @santana1437 | @fluffyblanketgecko | @puta1 | @inluvwithfictionalwomen | @tintedrose12 | @jaymieflorissssssss | @tita001 | @youralphawolf72 | @crescent-witch | @randomnessbecausewhynot | @natashamaximoff69 | @a-dorkier-book-keeper | @hehehehannahthings | @secrettoallofyou | @romantic-slaps-on-the-asss | @marvel-fan-2021 | @mmmmokdok | @riveramorylunar | @ripofflizzie | @toldthatdevil | @itsmv3 | @katiemay-025 | @maria-403 | @boredandneedfanfics | @wandamaximoffspuppup | @xox-little-troublemaker-xox | 

[builtbybrokenbells]

Gold Dust Woman | iv

Driven to the brink of insanity, y/n turns to her best friend for advice in her time of need. A Sunday brunch paired with day drinking leads to a world of new information she hopes will help her to better understand the new world she is caught up in.

Read part three here

Pairing: jake kiszka x f!reader, sam kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 12.5k

Warnings: sexting, sort of phone sex I guess, dirty talk, name calling (ish?), pet names, touch of praise, teasing, drinking, swearing, gossip (is that a warning? idk anymore guys), mentions of cheating, but nothing super heavy for this chapter! sorry if i miss any!

in my hungover state I present you with this! I’ve been waiting to write this chapter literally since I’ve started this. it’s super important to the plot and I think clears up a lot of stuff!! plus it’s a good little summary of everything leading up to this chapter. also id just like to say a super sincere thank you for the love i have received on this series. it was a big step out of my comfort zone and i was really worried that it wouldn’t be enjoyed, but you guys are so kind and supportive. i <3 you all. as always, enjoy, be kind, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes 🫶🏻

The tiny diner was overcrowded for its size, but still as welcoming as ever. Cheer and comfortability radiated through the air from the minute you stepped inside, never failing to brighten spirits. The small booth in the very back corner was routinely reserved for you and Danny on your Sunday outings. Brunch, always, but it was normally followed by some sort of wholesome activity to fill the afternoon. Then again, it didn’t matter what you were doing; time spent with Danny was always wholesome, and quite fulfilling. His friendship was one of your most prized possessions, mostly because you never really experienced anything like it before him. The conversation was never dull, radiating a type of safety that made you feel like you could tell him anything. Jokes were always well timed, advice was free-flowing, and a gesture of comfort was routinely available if needed.

Sundays were your favourite day, because you got the opportunity to spend time with him. Sometimes, the other boys would join, but that was rare. Even if they opted not to, you were fine with that, because you knew that the booth in the very back would always be reserved for two. That day was no different; you picked Danny up from his apartment at the usual time, and you both showed each other new music discoveries from the prior week. After the high stress of the weekend, you were happy to return to some type of normalcy, even if your regret for your careless decisions were constantly looming over you. When you arrived at the diner, the familiarity of the scene wrapped you up in a warm hug.

When you settled in to the seat, you placed your purse beside you and your phone face down on the table. The morning had started in a strange way, still leaving you frazzled hours later. After yesterdays activities, you had woken up tangled in the bed sheets and wrapped around Jake Kiszka. You never thought you would find yourself in such a state, but the reality of it was all too overwhelming to ignore. Although it wasn’t a bad start to the day, you were still aching with residual stress from the entirety of the situation. When he woke, too, the feeling seemed to wash away. There was a few hours where things seemed perfectly right, instead of troublesome; laughing and kissing your way through the earliest hours of your day, cooking breakfast and sharing cups of coffee along with stolen glances and smiles. It was beautiful in its own twisted way, making you genuinely believe you could spend the rest of your life doing just that. Once he’d left you on your lonesome, the guilt creeped back in like a disease, eating away at every part of you and taking you for its own. It had yet to satiate, even with Danny in front of you and a promise of a good day.

“You look terrible.” He stated, taking a sip out of the coffee mug the waitress had quickly delivered. Your eyes snapped up to him, shocked at the blunt statement.

“Thanks?” You furrowed your eyebrows, a small laugh stuck in your throat.

“No, not like that.” He corrected, placing his menu on the table. There was no need for it; you both had tried the entirety of the menu the restaurant offered, settling on your favourites long ago. “You always look pretty. I mean, you look like you just saw a ghost.” He was right, you couldn’t deny it. The bags under your eyes were darker than ever, skin pale and eyes distant. You were a mess, definitely looking like yourself but a mostly just a shell of it. It didn’t take a detective to figure that out.

“Yeah,” you chuckled, unsure of how to respond to his statement. “Guess I just haven’t been sleeping well.”

“Penny for your thoughts?” He shot back, his gaze unwavering. You shifted under the stare, feeling like he had already picked up on your predicament. You hated that about him; he always seemed to know there was something on your mind, even if you exhausted every way to hide it. It was just a Danny thing, and you had picked up on that long ago. He cared too much, noticed too much. Secrets didn’t exist around him, and perhaps that was why you were so excited for this particular outing, subconsciously hoping you might be able to get at least something off your chest.

“I don’t know if there’s enough time in the day.” You grumbled, taking a long sip of water from your cup. “I wouldn’t want to make your ears bleed.”

“I’ll strike you a deal.” He offered, causing you to look up at him. “Bottomless mimosas on me, and a shoulder to cry on.” You eyed him, nervous to agree but comforted at the thought of speaking your mind. “What’s said at brunch stays at brunch. I’ll drive home.” His invitation was very tempting. As much as you felt like you should keep the turmoil to yourself, the idea of advice or even just to confess your mistakes was overwhelmingly alluring. After a moment, you decided you would have to say something, even just an elusive idea to get some kind of answer to your internal debate.

“Deal, but it stays between us.” You finally said, realizing that if you didn’t speak your troubles aloud, they would eat you alive. Besides, there was nobody in the world that you trusted more than Danny. You knew you could probably confess murder and he would only ask how to help. “But my lips are sealed until those mimosa’s get here.” You smiled.

When the waitress came to check in and take orders, you both settled on a meal and Danny was sure not to forget your drinks. As you waited for her return, you struggled to arrange the thoughts in your brain. You had no idea how to explain the situation to him, or even where to begin. You were scared he would think differently of you, even though deep down, you knew he wouldn’t. The whole thing was sick and twisted, and you were so on edge that you thought you might combust. The last thing you wanted was to lose your friendship with Danny because of your inability to understand your own feelings. When the champagne flute was finally in front of you, your stomach churned with unease. You looked up to meet his eyes, but found he was already waiting in anticipation.

“So, what’s going on?” Before answering, you grabbed the glass and made quick work at finishing the liquid in one go. You figured you’d need the courage to tell this story.

“Remember that lesson we were talking about?” You asked, checking the flute to make sure you didn’t miss any alcohol before setting it back down.

“Vaguely,” he smirked “but I don’t think you ever told me exactly what it was.”

“Yeah, because I still have no idea what the fuck it is.” You let out a nervous chuckle. “I made a really big mess of things, and I have no idea how to fix it.”

“Okay, don’t panic. We can work through it together.” Your heart warmed at his words, feeling a little better just at the thought of his input. Even if he were to tell you that you were an idiot, you knew you deserved it. There had never been a time where advice from Danny hadn’t helped, even if it was only for a moment. And, although you hated to admit it, he was almost always right. “What kind of mess?”

“A big one.” You said, unable to find a better way to describe it. “I guess I probably have to go way back to the start for anything to make sense.” You sighed, placing your head in your hands. Your plan for keeping your feelings quiet had crumbled long ago; if you were going to tell him anything, you would have to explain it all. “The lesson was Sam. I’ve been in love with him for months.”

“Mhm,” Danny nodded, pausing his response as the waitress walked over to replace your drink. Once she was out of earshot, he spoke. “I had an idea.”

“Was it that obvious?” He quickly averted his eyes, not wanting you to see his face as he reacted to your question. You could tell he was trying not to laugh, finding your inquiry quite funny. “Oh, god.” You groaned.

“No, not exactly obvious.” He lied. You let out a groan, embarrassed that everybody seemed to know about your crush. “I don’t think he did, though. He’s pretty oblivious.” He comforted you, the second part of his statement much more genuine. “Why is that such a big deal?” You audibly laughed at his comment, realizing that he had no idea the extent of the problem.

“He never gave me any idea he liked me back. Flirted with girls at my house, acted like I was just another one of the guys. I never really felt like I meant anything more to him.” You explained. “And I was too much of a coward to say anything. Thought it was better if I kept everything a secret. I didn’t want to risk losing you guys as friends. I like you all too much.”

“We like you too, y/n.” He smiled, finding your worry silly. He knew that whatever happened, he still wanted to be your friend. You were his solace away from the chaos of his band mates, and to him, it was the best thing in the whole world. You gave him a soft smile, taking a moment to sip at your drink again. “No matter what, you’re always going to be my Sunday brunch date.” He assured you. You let out a long breath, now preparing to get into the deepest part of the conversation.

“So that night, after you and I talked, I figured that I had to snap out of it. I spent every weekend watching him, hoping he would make a move, or even give me some sort of hint that he acknowledged I existed in any way other than a friend. I was tired of waiting. I wanted to have fun, so I asked you to play beer pong.” He hummed an agreement, letting you know he was following. “And I partnered with Jake.” And what a grave mistake, that was. “I was drunk, and at first it was friendly, no different than usual. Then he started looking and talking to me different. It wasn’t bad, obviously, but he was very clearly flirting.” You paused, noticing the small smile he was fighting back. You tried to ignore it, not liking the way he was looking at you. “I was really drunk, and it felt really nice to be noticed. I shouldn’t have entertained it, but I did. I played along with him, thinking it was harmless. The game ended, we went out separate ways, and I figured that was the end of it. It should have been the end of it.”

“It wasn’t, though, was it?” You shook your head at his words. The conversation was stopped by plates of food in front of you and another replacement for your empty mimosa. You took a break from the grievous topic to have a bite to eat before continuing. After a few moments, you answered.

“Nope,” you sighed, popping the p to accentuate the impact. “We talked for a little while longer, then I went to the bathroom. Heard someone playing my guitar in my room, so of course I had to check.” You cursed yourself for not knowing better. “There he was, playing so well that it draws you in without a second thought, looking as pretty as ever.” He got a laugh out of your statement, never hearing two compliments sound so much like insults. “I joined him and we talked for a while, completely normal stuff.”

“You guys hooked up?”

“Ah!” You snapped, pressing your finger to your lips, silently telling him to keep his voice down. He let out a hearty laugh at your dramatics, knowing that nobody in the vicinity gave a single care about what you were talking about.

“So that’s a yes?”

“Yeah, sort of, I guess!” You said, exasperated at the thought of recalling that moment aloud, especially to someone so close with Jake. You took another long drink, hoping the alcohol would calm your nerves. “I went to bed, and I didn’t know what to think. Part of me was thrilled, but a bigger one never wanted to do it again. I felt so guilty, almost like I cheated on Sam even though he had no idea I liked him. How stupid is that?”

“It’s not stupid, y/n. I think it’s pretty normal, actually.” He shrugged. “We live in our own head, and when we like someone so much, especially for a long time, it kind of starts to feel real. I think you feeling guilty is actually more normal than not caring. Means you really do like him, and it’s not just a surface level thing.” The confirmation was nice, but also made you feel even worse. You felt as though you shouldn’t be allowed to have feelings for Sam anymore, especially after how you spent your morning. “I take it that’s not the end?” He chuckled, picking up on your sullen expression.

“No,” you groaned, burying your head in your hands again. “I wish it was, but no.” He reached over, looping his fingers around your wrist and gently pulling your hand away from your face. You glanced up at him through your eyelashes, noticing his smile.

“It’s okay. What’s said at brunch stays at brunch.” He promised. You gave a slight nod, letting your hand fall into his. He rested them on the table, giving yours a reassuring squeeze.

“When I woke up and only saw you three in the living room, I kind of thought he regretted it, too. Figured he sobered up and… yeah.” You laughed, not feeling a need to get into your insecurities. “I was nervous, still feeling pretty guilty, but we were all hungover so I just blamed it on that. Things felt normal for a minute, when we were all just sitting and falling asleep. Then he came back. From the minute I saw him, I knew he didn’t regret any of it. He gave me my coffee. My coffee, exactly how I order it. He remembered, and I don’t even think I’ve ever told him.” You mumbled, feeling a blush rise at the memory. “We ended up going to the basement, and nothing happened, really. We kissed and talked, and we kind of agreed he would stay after everyone left.”

“That doesn’t sound bad.” He reassured you. You narrowed your stare, causing him to back down instantly.

“Aside from the feelings thing, no.” You admitted, feeling bad for giving him such a harsh look. “While we were playing songs, everything felt fine. It was fun, I wasn’t nervous or worried about anything, and I thought that maybe things would be fine. I know Jake isn’t the bad guy; he’s not someone I wouldn’t want to fall in love with. I think I’d like it, actually, if the situation were that simple. He’s always been kind to me, he’s funny, he remembers things about me that nobody bothers to. He cares about the little things. He pays attention.”

“And Sam doesn’t.” He affirmed. You nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly.

“He never has. I feel like I wasted months loving someone who didn’t give a shit whether I was around or not.” Danny looked like he wanted to protest, but bit his tongue instead. It was your time to vent, and he wanted you to say what you needed without interruption. “I went to the kitchen to get more coffee, more comfortable with everything. I thought maybe if Jake and I spent enough time together, the feelings for Sam would just be… obsolete. I’m sure it would have worked, too. But, he just had to follow me.”

“Sam?” You nodded, giving him a bit of clarity. You were so worked up that you were rushing yourself through the story.

“Yeah, we just chatted for a minute, both drank our coffee like normal friends. Then he tried to hold my hand! And then tried to hint around that he liked me, too!”

“He did not,” Danny sat back in the booth, letting his head slump against the seat, internally cringing at his best friends terrible timing.

“Sure did! The whole confession was pretty funny, actually. Not to me, but definitely to someone! It was like god was sitting up in the sky laughing at me while it happened.”

“He’s so stupid.” Danny groaned, clearly exasperated himself. Danny was so unapologetic about his secret love of girl talk, and it made you incredibly happy. He really was your best friend in every sense of the word.

“Yeah, and I was a little pissed off! It made me feel like I was only worth loving when he was afraid he couldn’t have me. We argued for a few minutes, and he basically pried the confession about Jake out of me so he could use it for his own personal agenda! Then, he got this grand idea that he’d make it into a competition between him and and his brother to see who can win me over.” Danny gave a wince at the thought, already aware of Sam’s thought process before you even said it aloud. “I told him it was a bad idea, and I meant it. It is a terrible idea.” You clarified before telling him any more. After a few moments of silence, his eyes were urging you to continue. “We kissed.” You sighed. He let out another laugh, like what you had said was a joke rather than something you deeply regretted. His hand squeezed yours once more, another gesture of comfort. “What’s so funny?”

“No, no. You tell your story, I’ll talk later.” He assured you. With an air of discomfort, you accepted the deal, deciding to purge yourself of the last bit of the story so you could get it over with.

“It was fantastic. Something I’d been waiting forever to do. It almost felt wrong because it felt so right. So I planned on ending things with Jake. It was the right thing to do; I know if Sam had kissed me even a day sooner, there would have been no problem or conflict. I would have been over the moon.” Danny gave a hum, understanding what you meant, but not certain he agreed with it. Still, he held his thoughts back until you were finished. “You guys came in, and Sam left. Jake was still in the living room, because I told him to stay after everybody went home. I went in to talk to him, fully prepared to end things, but when I saw him, it was like it disappeared. He’s just so… captivating. Like, when I’m around him, he’s the only thing that exists.”

“Yeah, he does have a pretty big personality. Hard to ignore. He’s quiet, but I think that’s part of the charm.”

“Yep, because everything that comes out of his mouth is perfectly thought out.” You snipped, angry at the thought of his perfection. “He started talking, and he knew Sam and I had done something in the kitchen. I didn’t even have to say anything to him. There was a lot of back and fourth, kind of unimportant. I don’t even think I could explain it, anyway. But, he basically said that they both had feelings for me and they decided that they should both have a fair shot at winning me over. Isn’t that fucked up? That they decided that on their own, and didn’t tell me?”

“Yeah,” he nodded.

“That’s what I thought! Anyway, whatever. Doesn’t matter now, I guess. He said some cryptic shit and I told him to leave, but it was mostly just because I was pissed off. I don’t think I really wanted him to go. Like I said, it doesn’t matter, because he stayed the night, last night. He left before I came to pick you up.” You sat back in your seat, defeated still, even after talking through the whole thing. The words being spoken into the universe only seemed to make you feel worse about the predicament. The only hope you had left was that Danny would have some sort of miracle advice to help you out, but you didn’t want to keep your hopes too high. “I think Jake’s been feeling the same way about me as I feel about Sam.”

“Okay.” Danny said, showing you that he was sufficiently aware of your predicament. “My turn?”

“Please.” You urged, finishing the last of your drink. You barely had the glass back on the table before the waitress was there to replace it. You were starting to feel the buzz of the liquor, realizing that you were genuinely getting day-drunk just to forget about your own mistakes. You were at an all time low, you decided. Your usual attitude towards relationships had continually assured you protected yourself, never letting anyone get to close, and never falling for anybody too hard. It was lonely, but loneliness was much preferred to how you were feeling in that moment. Now, in addition to a broken heart and a guilty conscience, you were scared you were going to lose the only true friends you ever had.

“I’ve known Jake and Sam for a long time. It’s a blessing and a curse. I love them to death, they’re family. Fun to be around, great friends, all that mushy shit. But, after so many years, you pick up on the bad stuff, too.” You were intrigued, now. As the fourth glass of the heartache remedy slid down your throat, you felt yourself leaning in closer to the table, not expecting a response like such. You thought Danny would call you on your bullshit, tell you that you were an idiot. You prepared yourself for that, still, because the conversation wasn’t over. It was still a possibility, but you certainly didn’t think his advice would lead in with the Kiszka’s baggage.

“You mean to tell me they’re not perfect? That god didn’t hand craft them and put them on earth just to make the rest of us feel bad?” He had another hearty laugh, finding your tipsy smile hilarious. Your ability to joke even through your turmoil was heartwarming.

“Seems that way sometimes, but no. At least I don’t think so.” He reassured you. “Jake and Sam are a lot more alike than everyone thinks, and not just physically. Sometimes, they’re more alike than Jake and Josh, which is incredibly hard to do. I mean, they’re brothers, so it’s expected, I guess. I didn’t notice it when we were in high school, but Jake wasn’t around as often. Once we all graduated, we started making music and spending a lot of time together. I think that’s when I realized how similar they were.”

“Mhm,” you agreed, wholeheartedly believing him. The two were strikingly similar in lots of ways, despite a few blatant things that offset their shared traits. You could even tell through their touch, or the small interactions that left you guessing if they previously conspired what they were going to say to you, or if it was just their Kiszka nature.

“Their taste in girls has always been one of those things. Over the years, girlfriends or flings caught interest in the other brother, or vice versa, and it was always a bit messy. It seemed like if you fell for one of them, you’d eventually fall for both of them. Or if one of them fell for you, the other would, too. It’s really fucked up, actually.” He gave a little chuckle, trying his best to explain the observation. “They caught on to it pretty soon, and fought over it once or twice, but it never seemed to cause an issue between them. They’d be mad for a few days, then they would move on like it never happened. I don’t know if they accepted it, or if they just didn’t care. Personally, I couldn’t do what they do. It would drive me crazy.” He added, clearly letting on that whatever he was leading in to was common, very deeply rooted and still pressing. You could see in his eyes that the idea was unsettling to him. “For a year or so, whichever way it went, the other just admitted defeat and moved on.”

“Oh, wow.” You breathed, trying to wrap your head around his words. It felt like you were learning deep lore about them that you weren’t supposed to know.

“I wouldn’t be telling you all this if I felt like I shouldn’t be, but it seems like they’re back to their old ways. Trust me when I say it’s much harder on you than it is on them.” You nodded, agreeing with the statement. The whole twisted relationship had given you nothing but turmoil since it had begun, and you were desperate for insight on how to fix it. To them, it just seemed like another day’s work. “Our first real tour, Sam fell super hard for a girl we met at a bar one night. Like, I mean head over heels, stars in his eyes, the whole nine yards. He got her number, and they were in love before we even left the bar. They ended up getting together, and things were really great between them. She even came along with us for a few weeks. They were happy for a while, but then Sam let tour life get to him, I think. He fucked up, hooked up with a random girl and threw the whole thing in the garbage. It was absolutely his fault, and I’ll never defend him over it, but he was young and had no idea how to handle the fame, even if we weren’t that big back then. He seemed to cling to every bit of attention he got. I know he regretted it as soon as he realized what he did, but obviously it was too late. I don’t blame her for leaving.” He shrugged. You were watching intently, immersed in every word.

“Now, I don’t know for certain what happened. Nobody talks about it anymore, and we never really did back then, either. It’s in the past, and everybody wants to keep it that way. But, that girl ended up in Jake’s bed after the big blowout. I don’t know if she initiated it, or he instigated, but it didn’t really matter, anyway. Sam found out and went insane, and he wasn’t interested in knowing who started it. They fought, like really fought, fists and all. We thought that would be the end of the band; they didn’t speak to each other for weeks. Rehearsals and concerts were constantly tense. The girl wasn’t even in the picture, anymore, Sam just felt betrayed and Jake didn’t want to admit he was in the wrong. Before, I don’t think he was ever really in love with anybody, so it didn’t matter as much. But that time, Sam reached his breaking point.”

“Holy shit,” you didn’t care about anything else happening around you. The story was captivating; both boys were very closed off, never giving too much away about themselves. They’d always answer questions if asked, but you never really heard much about the past, especially relationships. You were realizing why, now. “Poor Sam.”

“I guess.” Danny shrugged. “In that situation, yeah, but he’s not innocent. After they made up, he never let it go. He wanted to get back at him, and he did. Ever since then, Jake never had a chance to have a relationship. The minute he showed interest in someone, Sam was already trying to win her over. At first, I think it was just a coincidence. They’re similar, they like the same type of girls, obviously that can cause some issues. After that, it was different. Clearly intentional and meant to be hurtful. I stopped feeling sorry for them a long time ago. They know what they’re doing, and neither of them want to be the bigger person and apologize. Over the years, it’s just grown into a big mess.”

“So that’s why they’re doing this?”

“Yeah.” He felt no need to lie. “They’ve always been competitive. It’s a brother thing. Sam more than Jake, really. I think it’s because he’s younger, maybe feels inadequate sometimes. But to be competitive over girls with real feelings… I don’t like it. After so long, they learned to take the loss and move on. Better luck next time, to them. They mope around for a few days and then they’re back to best friends like nothing ever happened. The girls always end up getting hurt in the end, and that’s the fucked up part. They can hurt their own feelings as much as they want, but I don’t think it’s right to do it to anyone else.”

“That’s why Jake knew what happened in the kitchen. And Sam was so certain he was going to win me over. They’re masters at the game.” The whole wicked, devil-like persona’s were making more sense, now. Every move was thought out, meticulously planned and executed with grace. They’ve been playing this game far longer than you’d even been a part of it, and you were curious if they even had real feelings at all, or if it was just a part of the spiteful process.

“Masters, I’m not sure about. Cocky and annoying, absolutely. I don’t care what they have against each other. They have to settle that between themselves, not bring anyone else into it. All of us consider you a friend. A best friend. What they’re doing hurts everyone, but clearly it’s been hurting you the most.” You finished your drink, looking around for the waitress to get another refill. You were in information overload, more questions and worries filling your head with every second that passed. He picked up on the nervous energy, giving your hand another small squeeze to bring you back to reality.

“Do you think they even care about me, or is it just to piss each other off?” His eyes widened, realizing how easily you could have interpreted that from his story.

“No, y/n, not like that. I can’t speak for certainty on everything, but I am pretty sure Jake’s head over heels for you. He always perks up when we talk about you, and he’s the first one ready when we’re going to your place. Most of the time, he’s begging us to hurry up. I can see it in his eyes. We all see it, and I think that’s why I got so excited when I saw you guys flirting on Friday. Hoped that he’d finally get the courage to make a move.”

“Okay,” you whispered, scared to ask anything about the other boy, unsure if you even wanted to know the answer.

“Sam likes you, too. He told me himself, and not just yesterday, either. I’m not picking a side, or trying to get you to choose. Just telling you what I think you need to know so you can stop beating yourself up.” He explained. “I don’t know why Sam didn’t speak up, sooner. I told him you liked him, gave him encouragement, but he never said anything. He acted like he was oblivious, but he knew. Everyone knows you have feelings for Sam. I love you, but it was obvious.” Your cheeks turned rosy, embarrassed at your own inability to hide your emotions. “I think they both really like you, and they were scared of the same thing. They didn’t want the other to steal you away, but they fell into routine again and they’re doing exactly what they wanted to avoid. When Sam saw you with Jake, It probably lit a old fire in him, which is why it all happened so fast.” As much as you wanted the knowledge to give you reassurance, it only made the dread grow even larger.

“I don’t know what to do, Danny.” You sighed, closing your eyes to ward off the stress headache. You retracted your hand from his, missing the comfort of the hold almost immediately. You brought your fingers to your temples and gently massaged the area, satiating the ache slightly. “I never should have started anything with Jake. I had feelings for Sam. It was selfish, and I know that.”

“I think you had feelings for him, too. Maybe you just didn’t realize it.” He offered. “It’s not like you to start something like that without any reason. Plus, like I said, if you like one of them… history tends to repeat itself.” He said, keeping the truth light.

“If I didn’t, I sure do now.” You let out a humourless laugh, pushing the food around on your plate with your fork. “I feel like I maybe put Sam on a pedestal because I had such a big crush on him. I always thought I was in love with him, but I was never with him. I didn’t know anything beyond the surface, never experienced anything more than friendship. Not even an idea. Now, I’ve been with Jake. I know him, and I feel like maybe what I felt for Sam was just infatuation.”

“Could have been.” He shrugged, unable to answer that one for you.

“But when I’m around him, both of them, actually, they have this pull, like the earth is forcing me into their arms. It’s impossible to think clearly with them around, and I think maybe I just have to take a step back to figure it out.”

“Good luck with that.” He joked, eyes drifting to your phone on the table. “Your phone’s been going off all day, and I’m pretty sure I have an idea who it is.” You couldn’t deny anything, mostly because you knew he was right. Intermittently, another vibration would sound, and you knew if you picked it up, it would be one of the brothers you were trying so hard to ignore. “I don’t care if you ignore them, as long as I still get to see you. Wouldn’t give up our brunch dates for the world.” He sent a playful wink your way.

“Let’s just run away, get married and have mimosa’s for the rest of our lives on a cute little porch while we watch the sunset.” You grinned. “Don’t have to worry about anything ever again.”

“Don’t tempt me,” he smirked. “If I get involved in this, I’m definitely winning.” You both shared a fit of giggles, happy to ease the tension with light jokes. “But seriously, if that’s what you want to do, do it. I know how hard on the head they can be normally, so I can’t imagine what it’s like being in your position.” He sympathized. “It’s not fair to you. I think maybe that’s why Jake tried to be so secretive about it, he wanted to make the move and start something before Sam could get involved. But, it’s like some weird brother thing; they can always tell.”

“I don’t know what to do. I feel like I ignored too many lessons, and the universe is super mad at me right now.” You sighed, your attention grabbed by the waitress dropping another drink off. You mumbled a small thank you before she disappeared again. “I like them both, but I don’t want to hurt either of them. I don’t want to get hurt. The whole thing is fucked up.”

“May I offer my opinion?” He asked, mischief laced in his tone. You gave a nod, figuring that anything would help at this point. “I don’t think you’re going to hurt them nearly as bad as you think.” He assured you. “Yeah, obviously, however this goes, someone is bound to be disappointed, but they’ve been playing this game for years. If you like both of them, play the game with them.”

“Encourage it?” You were in disbelief that he would even suggest it.

“Yep.” He confirmed, no hesitation in his voice. “Listen, they started this whole thing. They think it’s okay to play with your feelings, so play with theirs, instead. Maybe teach them a lesson.” He explained. “Don’t let them run things. You’re in control here, even if you don’t think you are. Have fun with them, and hopefully they’ll see what they’re doing is wrong.”

“You’re evil, Daniel.” You contemplated the idea while finishing your final mimosa, feeling positively tipsy.

“No, just think it’s time they got some karma. They have to learn eventually, they can’t do this for the rest of their lives.” He said, throwing his cutlery and napkins on his plate. “As long as you think you can do it without hurting your own feelings.”

“I’m so pissed off at them that I don’t even care about that.” You chuckled, but it wasn’t funny. The statement was completely truthful.

“So teach them, and then we can eat our brunch in peace. When you do, hopefully they’ll never do it again.” You weren’t expecting Danny to side with you in the matter, but you especially weren’t expecting for him to cheer you on. As you listened to his story of the years he spent dealing with them, you understood why he was telling you to do it. Knowing Danny, you could only assume that there had been many instances where he had to do damage control because of Jake and Sam’s childish behaviour, and he was sick of it. Plus, he seemed quite annoyed with the amount of broken hearts that have ensued because of the brothers tyranny.

Part of you thought it was crazy, that there was no way you could do that to the boys. The other, angrier part of you thought it was a great idea. After only two days of turmoil caused by their behaviour, you were in shambles. Now, knowing that they were completely aware of their own actions, you had no issue handing it right back to them. “Okay.” You agreed. The liquor definitely had an impact on your decision making, but not enough for you to worry about it.

“There. Problem solved.” He smiled. “Maybe that lesson you were dreading wasn’t really your lesson after all.”

You both left the diner with a little more pep in your step than before. Your fears were settled, but not fully resolved. Still, the sense of doom that was looming over you seemed to ease up, and you accredited it solely to Danny. Without his words, you would still be drowning in your own misery. You spotted your car, making a move to get in the drivers seat. As you reached for the handle, you paused yourself, realizing that you were in no state to drive. You reached into your purse, fishing out your keys, and turned to see Danny already holding his hand out for them.

“All yours,” you said, dropping them in his palm. “Forgot.” You let out a giggle.

“Whatever,” he rolled his eyes, sending a playful smile your way. You walked to the other side of the vehicle, getting in to the passenger side. Once you had your seatbelt buckled, he began the journey home. You connected your phone to the speaker, clumsily tapping the screen to unlock it. You hit shuffle on your playlist, not having the mind to scroll through and pick a song.

You turned your head towards the window, letting your eyes take in the sights as you passed by. Your mind was spinning with thoughts, but none stuck out as they passed through. Most were a jumble of topics from the previous day’s events, no coherent nature to them. You wanted to check your missed messages, just to see what they’d been saying, but you couldn’t find the strength to do so. You were angry, still, upset that they had no issue involving you in their mess and seemed to have no remorse over it. Even so, the urge to talk to them, to be with them, touched by them, was growing more urgent by the second.

Danny was right; it would be impossible to ignore them. That left you with two choices; play along, or let them play with you and get hurt in the process. You still weren’t certain that the first option would keep your feelings safe, but it was worth a try. Even if it didn’t, hopefully it would ensure neither would pull a stunt like such ever again. “I think I drank too much.” You stated, another giggle laced in your words. He glanced over at you from the drivers seat, giving you a grin.

“Guess that was my fault.” He chuckled.

“No,” you shook your head, smiling softly. “You helped, a lot.”

“I’m glad.” He replied, turning down the street your home was nestled on. “I’m always available for free therapy and alcohol.”

“I always appreciate it. I appreciate you.” You said, watching your driveway creep into sight.

“I appreciate you, bug.” He shot back without missing a beat. The pet name made your heart warm with affection. He really was your best friend, always your biggest comfort and favourite person. Nobody else compared to him, and you hoped that no matter how the situation played out, you’d still have him by your side. A small, selfish part of you wondered why you couldn’t just fall for him; he was funny, sweet, and genuine. Any time spent with him was worth more than the world, and he was beautiful, too. For some reason, it was written in the stars that he was to be your best friend, but that was more than okay. A life with Danny as your best friend was a certain promise of a good one. As much as it sucked dancing with the devil, or the Kiszka brothers, rather, it was meant to be. Even while you wished it away, hoped you could fall out of their grasp and into someone else’s, there was a part of you that loved being loved by them.

He parked your car in its usual spot, getting out to open your door for you. He walked you to the house, stepping inside and closing the door behind you. You both went to the living room, collapsing on the couch with exhaustion, as if you’d just ran a marathon. “You’re stuck here.” You laughed, finally realizing that he didn’t have his own car with him.

“I’ll call a cab, don’t worry.” He assured you, grabbing his phone to do just that. As he found himself busy telling the company the address, you reached over to the chair beside the couch, grabbing the acoustic guitar Jake had been playing earlier that morning. As he hung up the call, you plucked at the strings mindlessly, eventually switching to a chord progression that you had grown to know very well. “Dinner and a show?” He teased, still in awe that you had hidden your talent for so long.

“You know, it would be a lot of fun to come with you guys.” You thought aloud, dismissing his joke.

“You should.” He affirmed your idea. “Even if you just came for a part of the tour.” You let out a low hum, letting him know you heard him without having to respond. Instead of pushing you further, he leaned back into the couch and watched you as you played. Once you were certain he wasn’t going to speak again, you began to sing along to the music, to the song you loved so much. Jake had pegged it as your nickname, and at first it was endearing, but the more you listened to it, the more the words resonated with the ache settled deep in your chest.

“Rock on, Gold Dust Woman

Take your silver spoon, dig your grave” you looked to the fretboard, feeling the need to focus harder because of the alcohol swarming in your system.

“Heartless challenge, pick your path and I’ll pray

Wake up in the morning, see your sunrise loves to go down

Lousy lovers pick their prey but they never cry out loud.“

You sang the rest of the song, breathless by the time you were finished. Danny had a smile stuck on his lips, understanding that sooner or later you would agree to their offer. He could tell how badly you wanted to say yes, but your anxiety was holding you back. You were thinking of the offer, too, but something more pressing came to kind in light of the song choice. Or the mimosas. Or both, maybe. You weren’t sure. Either way, Jake Kiszka had inevitably made his appearance in your thoughts once more, but it wasn’t like he had left in the first place. His presence was always existing within your brain somewhere, even if it wasn’t at the forefront.

It was horrid, never being able to escape him, but it was phenomenal all at the same time. In the last twenty-for hours, he helped you feel more alive than you ever had before. His touch was still lingering in your skin, electrifying every nerve. The memory was fantastic, but nothing compared to the real thing. He was addicting; his company was no longer a want, but necessary for survival. You wondered if you would ever be able to live without it, quickly realizing that you never wanted to find out. Before, the thought of not having Jake around was terrifying, but after having him so intimately, the idea was debilitating, stealing the air from your lungs and crushing you under its weight.

“I could listen to you sing all day, but I gotta run.” Danny broke you from your thoughts. “Plans for tonight, can’t get out of them.”

“Cheating on me, Daniel?” You let out a tsk, showing your displeasure. He let out a laugh, shaking his head.

“Could never do that to you, darling.” He said, as dramatically as possible. You put the guitar to the side, standing up with him so you could give him a proper goodbye. You pulled him into a hug a bit tighter than usual, catching him off guard. It only took him a second to return the gesture, wrapping you in an aura of comfort.

“Thank you for everything. I feel a lot better.”

“That’s what I’m here for.” He assured you. “I love you, and I’ll talk to you soon?” You nodded, head still pressed to his chest.

“I love you.” You said, parting ways with him. “And yeah, I’ll update you.” You smiled, your secret plan solidified by your words.

“Give them hell.” He said, a tone of pleading hidden in the joke. With a wave, he disappeared around the corner and the front door sounded a moment later. The second the door shut, the emptiness of the home already started to seep in.

You gathered your thoughts, shaking away the haunting feeling of seclusion, and made your way to your bedroom. Once inside, you switched the power on to your record player, resuming whichever vinyl you had left from this morning. You let your eyes flutter closed at the hum of the song cutting through the silence. Another vibration from your phone caught your attention, suddenly remembering the messages you had intended to ignore. Now, with Danny’s words sounding in your mind, and your first chance at alone-time, you channeled a new courage to reply. Your fingers pulled the phone from your pocket, eyes immediately drifting over the screen. There were a few texts from your own band mates, and when they could come over to practice. You made a mental note to respond to them later. You moved on, seeing Sam’s name adorned on a missed call. You opted to focus on him later, your eyes seeking the contact you wanted to deal with first.

The notification bar from Jake had three messages. When you tapped them, you expected to be met with filthy words to fuel your desire to get back at him. Instead, the first was a small message of thanks for letting him stay the night prior, confessing his enjoyment. It was simple, not detailed, but enough to make your heart beat a little faster and a blush to make its way onto your cheeks. The second message was a well wish for your lunch date with Danny, saying he hoped you had a good time. The third was much different, more on par with what you had expected from him.

Jacob

Let me know when you want to share some more secrets, Gold Dust Woman

You felt a surge of emotion rush to your stomach, the words so simple, but the feeling so large. It was so easy to give in to him; he barely had to look your way and you were jumping at the chance to be noticed by him. It was crazy how fast the dynamic changed, how quickly he became so important to you. Without a second thought, you were already typing a response.

You

What kind of secrets would you like me to share, Jacob?

You hit send, not expecting a response considering you had waited so long to reply. Before you could even shut the screen off, the text bubble appeared on the screen, signifying his presence in the chat. A smirk pulled at the corner of your lips, happy to see that he was on your hook just as much as you were on his.

Jacob

I can think of a few

You

I’m sure you can. Care to elaborate?

His response was almost immediate, as if he’d pre-typed the words in anticipation of your question.

Jacob

Still wearing that red thong from earlier, or was that just to show off?

You enacted a plan as soon as the text was delivered and you processed what it said. You threw your phone on your bed, quickly shimmying out of your clothes and discarding them on the floor. The alcohol was still buzzing through your veins, your decisions heavily reliant on the false confidence the champagne bestowed upon you. You retrieved your phone, making a move to stand before the mirror on the opposite side of your room. You pulled up your camera, taking a few pictures from different angles, clearly showcasing the red fabric he was so curious about. The pictures that included the matching bra was just out of generosity.

You sifted through the pictures in your camera roll, picking the ones you thought were the best. You swiped back into his chat, reading his message over again. Instead of saying anything else, you sent the few photos you deemed acceptable. You went to the kitchen, unable to find a care to put your clothes back on, and turned your phone screen off. You scoured the fridge, finding a bottle of wine unopened and patiently awaiting your arrival. As you poured yourself a glass, you listened to the repetitive vibrations of incoming text messages. You looked to the clock on the wall, noting the time. Then, you took a seat in a chair and enjoyed the beverage you had fixed for yourself.

After a few moments, the texts ceased, leaving you to sit in silence and ponder your actions. You sipped away at the bitter liquid, refusing to give in to the temptation of answering him. When your glass was half empty, the vibrations resumed. This time, it was an incoming call. The ticking of the clock caught your attention, realizing you’d left him on edge for about fifteen minutes. You figured if you let it go much longer, he would show up at your front door. The thought itself wasn’t terrible, and you certainly wouldn’t mind the company, but you decided you wouldn’t push him that far. His incoming call ended, but it wasn’t long before another one sounded. With a smile on your lips, you picked up your phone and accepted his attempt to reach you.

“Hi,” you said, cheerily, as if you had no idea he had been blowing up your phone. “What’s up?”

“Ignoring me, sweetheart?” His voice was low, no angry tone or hint of annoyance. The soft inquiry sent a rush of arousal through you, just knowing that you had bothered him so badly was enough to send you spiralling.

“Why would I do that?” You asked, tipsiness laced in your voice. He picked up on it almost immediately, thinking your new-found confidence was a result of the alcohol. In truth, he wasn’t completely wrong. Although you and Danny had devised the plan, the execution was heavily reliant on intoxication. For some reason, sobriety did not help your case with either brother. Their charm and wit held you in a chokehold, any time you had the courage to retaliate, they made another move to make you submit. Despite your lack of control, it was still quite enjoyable. Now that tables had turned, that he was the one sitting and thinking about you and slowly driving himself to insanity, you had to admit that it was enjoyable, too. Maybe even more so, if you had to choose.

“Don’t be a tease, angel.” He hummed, the sound of his voice through the phone sending a shiver through you. You thought you might give in, throw the act away and beg for him to come over, but you bit your tongue and powered through.

“I thought that’s what you wanted to see, baby.” You played innocent, taking another sip of wine to keep the spirits high. Your head was buzzing, swimming with many thoughts. Most were filthy, focused mainly on how badly you wished he was in front of you, rather than on the phone. It was ridiculous how fast he consumed your entire being. Thoughts of his hands, his tongue, and how good they felt when they were on you. You missed him, even if you opted not to say it aloud. It had only been a few hours, but it was much too long for your liking. “Was that what you wanted, Jacob?”

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, bothered by your use of the pet name, bothered by the sultry tone you were speaking in. A smirk formed on the corner of your lips, cocky enough to know that you had power over him, too. “Yeah, it was, baby.” He conceded, unwilling to argue the point. “You still didn’t answer my question.” He stated, not willing to let you off the hook so easily.

“What was your question?” You asked, one last attempt to get under his skin. He let in a long breath, trying his best to stay calm while you made it a point to piss him off.

“Why were you ignoring me, angel?” He was heavy on the terms of endearment, leaving you unsure if it was because they were genuine, or if he was using them to coerce an answer from you.

“Wanted to piss you off.” You admitted, feeling no need to lie to him. “Did it work?”

“Mhm,” he mumbled his response wordlessly. Even without an explicit affirmation, you could tell it did just by his tone change. He had expected the answer, but it didn’t seem to make him feel any better. “Didn’t know you were such a brat.” He noted.

“Maybe you just bring out the worst in me.” You snipped back almost immediately. He let out a chuckle, but it wasn’t because he thought your words were humorous. It radiated a tone of shock, as if he was trying to tell you that you had no idea what you were getting yourself into.

“Careful, sweetheart.” He warned. “Don’t make me come over there and fuck that attitude out of you.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You teased. He could hear the smile on your lips through your words, making it difficult for him to keep up with the act. He found your joy infectious, and the teasing fun, in a greater sense than just sexual. He enjoyed all conversations shared with you, even if there was no sexual gratification. He just loved being around you.

“I would, but I don’t think you would.” He said, simple enough to get the point across, but powerful enough to worsen the growing ache between your legs.

“Maybe you’re the sadist.” You theorized, throwing his own idea back in his face. If only he knew how badly you lived to please him, his previous accusations of sadism would be laughable.

“You’ll have to wait and see. I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough.” His voice was soothing, even if the topic was filthy. You could listen to him speak all night and never get bored. He was devastatingly perfect, and he made it easier to fall for him every time he opened his mouth. Without thought, you opened your mouth to speak, letting the wine take control of the conversation.

“I miss you.” The statement was quiet, but impactful. In reality, the three words were barely loud enough to catch a normal listeners attention, but the sound was deafening, to him. When you were met with silence, a fizzle of regret formed in your chest, wondering if you took it too far. You would take it back, pretend you never said it or bury it so deep down that could never surface again, just to ensure he wouldn’t hang up the phone; the last thing you wanted was to scare him away.

Although drunk, your feelings were true. You did miss him: you wanted to stay wrapped up in him forever, whether it be just with basic comfort or with sexual nature. You didn’t care, as long as he was with you. In three days, his presence had not only caught your attention, but made home within the walls of your house. Feelings for him were blossoming from every angle, immersing you within them and tying you down with their roots. It only took three days for Jake to make you a fool for him, three days to produce a feeling that rivalled your feelings for Sam. If you thought you were in too deep before, you were drowning, now.

That’s the funny thing about love; it cares little about who it’s next victim is, only about the fatalities it leaves in its wake.

Despite equal consent to the game, fatality was most definitely the prize. By choosing to be ignorant to risk, all three of you willingly sealed your own fate. No amount of repent could save you from the consequences. Deep down, you were well aware of that fact, but the sin was so pleasurable that it no longer mattered.

“I miss you, Gold Dust Woman.” The words only solidified your desire to ignore the risk. It was the most beautiful statement you had ever heard, and it was laced with sincerity. Imbedded with so much emotion that it made your head spin, wondering if it was even possible for someone to speak with such unwavering clarity. As if he, too, realized the extent of his vulnerability, he quickly spoke to cover it. “I miss being inside you, more.” The sweet tone quickly turned into one of desire, but both of you knew it was a lie. He desperately missed the mornings activities, his arms wrapped around your waist with a kiss placed to your neck while the smell of coffee lingered in the air. Smiling and laughing, singing along and poorly dancing to the hum of the record player. Taking turns playing guitar for each other, him dedicating every song to you but leaving it unspoken. He missed the moments of silence, more comfortable than any other, where he could hear your breathing steady while your eyes fluttered closed, enticed by the idea of falling back into a slumber. He missed the fleeting feeling of you being his, and his alone. Even if the idea wasn’t wholly truthful, he liked to pretend it was.

And in a way, you were. Every part of you belonged to him in some sense, even if other forces were trying to pull you away. But neither of you would ever speak those thoughts aloud, scared of the same things, even if the ones you focused on were not the biggest threats. Instead, you played along, sad that he felt the need to discredit such a genuine confession, but relieved that you didn’t have to explain your own. You both fell in step with the devil once again, ignoring the ache in your hearts and covering it with animalistic attraction and half-truths. If only you could both hear how loud he was laughing, pleased that you carried on just how the devil intends.

“You know there’s always a place for you between my legs, baby.” You whispered, the low tone shaking him to his core, settling in his bones and breaking them under the weight of the statement. It was unspoken that the confessions of emotion would be ignored, as always. It was just the way things were. You could practically hear his need for you through the phone, even if he didn’t say anything.

“Is that what you want?” He posed the question in a derogatory manner, as if he was trying to make you to feel shameful for wanting him so badly. You could see through it, knowing that he just wanted to hear you admit your desperation for him. “You want me, baby?”

“Mhm,” You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. As you realized that, you also realized how badly you wished you could see him. Before responding any further, you clicked the FaceTime icon on his contact. Within seconds, he accepted. The screen lit up with his face, immediately giving you a sense of relief. You took in the sight, noting he was sitting in his living room. You had only been to his apartment a handful of times, but you knew it well enough to recognize it. “Hi,” you smiled, almost forgetting the nature of the conversation.

“Hi, beautiful.” He disregarded the vulgarity for a moment, too, just so he could admire you. The blush that spread across your cheeks caused a smile to break out on his lips, too. He noted the wine glass in the frame before his eyes inevitably landed on your attire, the adoration in his eyes quickly fading into lust. The distant look let you know that he was already imagining what was beneath the flimsy red fabric. Remembering what lie beneath. As much as his expression enticed you, you couldn’t let him get away with it without making a comment.

“Eyes up here, Jacob.” You scolded, catching his attention again.

“Expect me not to stare when you look like that?” He asked, a smile still lingering on his lips. “Sadist.” He smirked, the word bouncing between you both, accompanied by pointed fingers and accusatory tones. Perhaps both of you were the sadists by continuing your entanglement without caution or worry about the future.

“I know how much you love the red, but I think you’ll love what’s underneath it, more.” You said, eyes never leaving his face. You could see the muscle in his jaw tense at the thought, proving you were correct.

“I think red is your colour, sweetheart.” He noted, disregarding your words. As bad as he wanted you to remove the clothing, he’d be caught dead before admitting you were right. “Sit back, baby. Let me see the rest of you.” The order was firm, making sure you knew that it was not a request. You propped your phone against the wine bottle, obeying the instructions and leaning back in your chair, allowing him a better view. He let out a sigh, content with the sight of your mostly exposed upper body.

“Like this?” You asked, bringing your hand to your chest and gently running your fingers over the edge of the cup on your bra, gently pulling it down in the process. It was enough to tease him, but not enough to show him what he was hoping to see. You let your finger linger for a second before releasing the hold. The fabric drifted back to its original position and you let your fingers trail down your bare torso.

“Just like that.” He affirmed, visibly bothered by the show you were putting on. “Be a good girl and take that off for me.” His plea was covered with dominance in attempt to hide his neediness, but it wasn’t working. Part of you wanted to give into the request; with the way he was looking at you, it was hard to want to deny him of anything. But, that little devil in your head was as angry as ever, now fuelled by the knowledge Danny had given you.

“Come over and take it off yourself.” You replied, trying to remain unbothered by his pet names. His eyes flashed with discontent, fed up with your continuous disobedience.

“You want me to come over?” He asked, playing into whatever game you were trying to start with him. You gave a nod, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to withstand the temptation for much longer. “You need someone to take care of that ache between your legs? To make you feel so good that you can’t remember your own name?” His tone was soft, sympathetic almost, but the flame ablaze behind his pupil and the slight tension in his jaw led you to believe he was being quite misleading.

“Yes, please.” You pleaded, ignoring your worry about his honesty. The arousal pooling between your legs was beginning to feel uncomfortable, like a constant, dull pain that would eventually drive you crazy. Something about Jake always led you to believe that life without him would lead you to the brink of insanity. The constant talk of want, or desire was quite minimal compared to how you truly felt about him. Necessity was closer to correct, depending on his touch more than your own heartbeat to keep you alive.

“You need someone to take care of that pretty little cunt,” he deducted, taking in a long breath at the sound of his own words. He was just as worked up as you, debating throwing his plan in the garbage and getting in his car that instant. “And you know I’m the only one who knows how to do it right.” He finished, finding the strength to stay seated and continue his merciless taunts.

“Please come over, baby. I need you so bad.” The words slipped out easier than any you had said before, the strength you had to endure his words was breaking apart every time he opened his mouth.

“I know, angel.” He hummed, soothing you for just a moment. You thought he was going to give in, to tell you he would be there in a minute, but when he spoke again, you wish you’d never started the battle in the first place. “I want to help you out, but you haven’t been very good for me. Being a tease doesn’t get you what you want, baby. You know that.”

“Jake, please. I’m sorry.” You begged, that feeling of familiar dread filling your stomach. “I’ll be good for you, I promise.”

“If I give you what you want, you won’t learn anything.” The irritation that grew from the smirk he was wearing was unbearable. You couldn’t genuinely believe that after the entire call, he would have the nerve to deny either of you the pleasure of spending another night together. “Go take care of yourself, sweetheart. Just think of me when you do.” Your teeth were clenched, frustrated that your efforts seemed to have no effect on him.

“Just come over, baby.” You tried once more, but his mind was made up.

“If you do what I say and behave, I might come and see you later.” So that was his plan; like always, he was willing to give in, but he felt the need to ensure you would suffer, first. “Another picture might help, too.” He sent a wink your way, so subtle that you almost missed it. Before you had a chance to respond, he had ended the call and you were met with the disappointing sight of your screensaver, wishing you had one more minute to admire the sight of his face.

You had two options: deal with the issue yourself, wait it out and hope he would feel generous enough to pay you a visit after a while, or call a cab and go to him, first. As much as the second option was tempting, you knew if you did so, it would only fuel his ego even further. He was well aware of the power he held over you, and running to him would only solidify the idea in his mind. Waiting to see if he would come over might do the same, but at least you would have the upper hand. By the time he showed up, your overwhelming need for him would have time to simmer. Then, you could give him a taste of his own medicine.

So you sat, sipping away at your wine, thinking that it wouldn’t be too difficult to wait it out. The closer the bottle got to empty, the more confident you felt about the situation. If he wanted to be an asshole, you could be, too. His request for more pictures would go unanswered, and he would have to give in. Even in your drunken state, you were aware of the power you had over him, too. Confidence did not equal satisfaction, though. You nursed the last of your wine until he showed up, or until you found something better to do, quickly realizing that time would not satisfy your craving for him. With every minute that passed, you hoped the feeling would fizzle away, but the more you ignored it, the worse it seemed to get.

Eventually, as you drained the last few drops of your glass for the second time (you had to make sure it was completely empty, of course), you heard a knock sound at the front door. A jolt of energy surged through you, realizing you had won the battle without putting any effort in at all. You stood, leaving the empty bottle on the table for decoration, and wasted no time following the sound of the knock. When you reached the front door, you ran your hand through your hair, straightening yourself out to look the best you could for him. Before opening the door, you ever so slightly peeked through the blinds.

In your drunken state, it seemed blatantly obvious that it was Jake standing outside. The tuft of brown hair that caught your eye was so familiar, immediately showering you with relief. But, if you looked for a moment longer, you might have clued in that opening the door in your current attire was a mistake. Had sobriety been in the question, you would have noticed the distinctive difference, how the body was taller, a bit more slender than the boy you were looking for. Maybe, it was possible you did notice, but we’re too blinded by excitement to cognitively understand that Jake was not the one knocking on your door. You wished to see him so badly that you overlooked any possibility of it not being him standing there.

When the door creaked open, you had a smirk on your lips, ready to throw his bluff back in his face. Instead of grasping the feeling of satisfaction for Jake’s failure, dread bled into every nerve in your body. It took a moment for both of you to understand exactly what scene you had found yourself in, but when you came back from the shock, you couldn’t even find the right words to express how you were feeling. Your limbs were frozen, unable to shut the door again and your heart was stuck in your throat. Sam’s wide eyes and parted lips showcased his matching emotions, also void of a proper response. Even in his complete surprise, he couldn’t help but feel his gaze drifting over every exposed part of you that was offered. If you wanted to be dramatic, you could even go as far as to say he was drooling at the sight of you.

After a moment of staring, you took a step to the side, covering as much of you as possible behind the solid door. “Do you greet everyone like that, or am I interrupting something?” He said, clearing his throat, joking to subtly to pass off his blatant gawking.

“Um, no… and no, I guess.” You squeaked, cheeks red enough to match the fabric that was barely concealing you.

“Expecting someone else?” The corner of his lip upturned into a smirk, finding humour in the awkward moment. He knew you were likely expecting his brother, but his cockiness allowed him to use the knowledge to his advantage.

“No,” you said after a long bout of silence, trying to sound confident. The alcohol was sending the devil in your head into a drunken rampage. Your plan to play into their game was bouncing around within your skull, urging you to take the embarrassing greeting and make it into something better. If Jake wasn’t willing to give you what you needed, you were sure that Sam would have no problem helping you out. If they wanted to involve you in their mess, you should have no issue using it for your own benefit. You were both playing with fire, but the heat was gradual; welcoming at first, and only burning you after the fact, once you were too far in to turn around.

“So I showed up at the perfect time, then?” Your anxiety washed away, even finding yourself able to produce a genuine smile at his ridiculously childish response. Your eyes drifted over his face, taking in the details of his expression. He had recovered from his nervous state, too, but his eyes were still glistening with appreciation at the beauty of you before him. You could have shut the door, turned him away with an apology and let the memory die, but his beauty was captivating, and you were drawn in by the way he was watching you. If you had found yourself in the situation with a lower blood-alcohol content, the whole thing would have been ridiculous and terribly wrong. Maybe it was the wine, or the brunch conversations that lead you to the conclusion in which you were headed towards. It didn’t matter, anyway, because you had already made up your mind. You didn’t want to turn him away; you were eager to let him inside.

“I think so.” You agreed, playing into him.

“Red’s your colour, princess.” He noted, trying to catch another glimpse of what you were trying to hide from him without being too obvious. Just another blatant show that Sam and Jake were in fact brothers, and brothers indeed. Too alike for their own good, and too foolish to see the problem. “You should wear it more often.” His voice was quiet, much different than his usual chipper tone that sounded through an entire room. You had never heard him speak in such a way, except for the small moment shared in your kitchen. It was enticing, perfectly alluring and dangerously gratifying.

“You should come in,” you stated, not as a request, but a fact. He watched you for a moment, attempting to convince himself that you were serious and not just pulling his leg. When you kept your composure, no hint of anything other than a genuine nature, he made a move towards you. Once he was inside, you closed the door behind him with little thought.

Perhaps too much carelessness for such a grave decision that would ultimately seal your fate.

Lousy lovers pick their prey

but they never cry out loud

TAGLIST: @itsdannysworld

[television-overload]

of our own making

(an X-Files fanfic)

Chapter 21/34 - eggs benedict

[Read on AO3]

It’s strange, staying with Sheriff Adderly and his wife Ellen during this case in Vermont. If he had his way, he’d be checked into a motel instead of infringing on their hospitality, but he’d been given no choice. They even refused reimbursement for their troubles, which did nothing to lessen the feeling—however true or untrue it was—of him being a burden to them.

Ellen Adderly had pulled out all the stops for their guest, preparing decadent meals on fine china for every meal, claiming she’d have done it whether he was there or not. He has a hard time believing that. He can’t imagine living in such a way every day of his life. He and Scully barely manage to set out real plates to eat on when they order takeout at home, and he certainly doesn’t expect her to have a three course meal set out when he gets back from work. Besides the fact that she’s always at work with him, it’s just not something he thinks is necessary. Is that something she’d want to do? He doesn’t think so. 

The routine they have works for them, that’s all that matters.

But after getting a taste of his own personal brand of domesticity, it’s… odd… to see how others do it. He’d never have thought there were so many different ways to balance home life, much less enough that he’d start to form an opinion on them. His parents had been one way—not a particularly healthy relationship—and he and Scully are… well, they’re not really anything besides roommates, but that still counts, in his book.

Whatever they are, he likes it. Far better than this constant fussing, at least.

Mrs. Adderly must notice his discomfort, because at breakfast as she masterfully puts the finishing touches on his eggs benedict, she says “I get the feeling you're not used to anyone taking care of you,” and for some reason, that assumption grates on his nerves.

He takes a measured draw from his cup of steaming coffee, swallowing back his immediate retort.

“What makes you say that?” he asks instead. She probably hadn’t meant anything by it, but it still comes off as rude. He has someone to take care of him, thanks very much. Just not exactly in the same way as Mrs. Adderly insists on taking care of her husband… and apparently Mulder too.

“I’m sorry,” Ellen says, realizing her statement had come out somewhat offensive. “I just mean… I didn’t see a wedding band.”

She nods at his left hand sitting atop the table, and he follows her gaze to the bare ring finger.

“Do you have a significant other, Agent Mulder?” she asks.

Significant? Yes. Very. Other? That’s a good descriptor. Single, married, other. Yeah, he’d select other, if this were a multiple choice question. Although he’s pretty sure that’s not what she meant.

“I’ve– um…” he starts, wondering how best to describe his situation to this woman. “I’ve got a wife, actually.” He pulls out the ring on its chain to show her. “It can be dangerous in my line of work to have it on display,” he explains lamely before tucking it back into his shirt.

Ellen smiles. “Ah, well that’s good. Don't miss out on home and family, Mr. Mulder. I imagine with all the things you see, you need that refuge more than most.”

Her words hang in the air, a bit of sage advice from a woman he otherwise has very little in common with. But before he really has a chance to think about what she’s said, Sheriff Adderly makes an appearance, and it’s back to business. Ellen excuses herself to go check on their daughter, leaving the two of them alone to discuss the case.

Mulder remains seated at the table, staring down the sheriff with a knowing look. He’d begun to suspect—and now his suspicions are all but confirmed—that the man had been unfaithful to his wife, and it makes him feel sick. Here this man has it all; a loving wife, a sweet baby that they didn’t have to jump through a million hoops to get, and yet he’s willing to throw it all away for some cheap thrills.

He’ll never understand it.

The man is no more forthcoming about his knowledge of the case than he had been before, so Mulder lets it slide for now. The last thing he wants to do is show all his cards too early and spook him. He gives him just enough to leave him rattled. To let him know that he knows . 

He lets the unspoken threat hang between them until the sheriff folds, squirming away to take a shower, or so he says. 

He’s still seething in bitter disgust when Ellen returns, carrying her sleepy baby in her arms. It’s a well-practiced juggling act, Mulder can tell, as she goes about fixing herself a plate of her now lukewarm breakfast. With only one arm, she clearly struggles to transfer strips of bacon out of the pan, and Mulder gets to his feet.

“Here, let me help,” he says, joining her in the kitchen. What he’d meant was that he could help assemble her plate, but as he goes to reach for the spatula, he instead finds himself being handed a baby, and his eyes widen comically. “Oh, right,” he says, then plasters a forced smile on his face. Sure, this was what he’d meant to do all along. 

The little girl is heavier than he’d expected. Like a sack of flour, though with limbs jutting out everywhere. It takes him a moment to adjust, his hands holding her awkwardly beneath the armpits. 

“Hi,” he says conversationally, looking down at her like she’s a ticking time bomb that could explode at any moment. The baby just blinks at him, a blank stare on her face. “Okay,” he mutters to himself, lifting her to his hip and returning to the table. He makes every effort to not look like this isn’t the first time he’s held a baby in—well, basically forever, but he’s not sure he succeeds.

Ellen smiles across the table at him and digs into her meal.

“Do you have children, Agent Mulder?” she asks, “You and your wife?”

It still makes his heart flutter to hear someone refer to Scully as such, but he supposes that to Ellen, it really is that simple. Scully is his wife, that’s all she knows.

He’d always thought conversations like this to be so dull. ‘So, Dave, how’s the ol’ ball and chain? Kids staying out of trouble?’  But, now… 

Well, it’s different now that he actually has something to contribute to the discussion.

“Yeah, actually, one on the way,” he says, giving a self-conscious little smile. 

He’s never told anybody about this other than Skinner, but he supposes there’s no harm in telling this random woman in Vermont. It almost makes him feel… normal. Like he can relate to other people over the simple fact of his impending fatherhood. A shared human experience. A milestone in his life that doesn’t involve aliens, ghosts, ghouls, or any manner of cryptozoological entity.

“We’re adopting,” he further explains. “Only a couple months left till the birth mother’s due date.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Ellen exclaims, smiling up at him over her bowl of fresh fruit. “You must be so excited!”

“Very,” he says, looking down at the drooling baby on his lap. “We never really thought it was possible. That we’d ever—” 

He pauses, the shrill tone of his cell phone breaking into their conversation.

“Speaking of my wife,” he says, flipping open the device. “Hey, Scully. How’s the stakeout going?”

Her voice crackles over the other side of the line, drawing a genuine smile out of him. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t ask that, Mulder, so that I can give you the good news I just received.”

His stomach does a flip. “Good news?”

He pictures her nodding, sitting in that grimy, cold room surrounded by surveillance equipment, somehow brightening it with her smile. “Krista called and we had a little chat.”

Mulder looks up at Ellen from across the table, where she’s watching him with a knowing smile. “Oh?” he says.

“Mm-hmm. And you know what she told me?”

Scully is extra cheeky this morning, huh? He misses her horribly. This is the last time he’s letting Skinner split them up for a case. After this, no more. He’s putting his foot down. What are they going to do, fire him?

“What did she tell you?” he asks, turning to instead stare at the floorboards, giving himself the illusion of privacy despite the constant watch of Mrs. Adderly.

“She told me the sex of the baby. Would you like to know?”

His heart thumps in his chest suddenly, its rhythm erratic. This, he hadn’t expected first thing in the morning. He hasn’t even finished his first cup of coffee yet.

“She finally found out?”

“Yeah, Krista said she was a lot more cooperative at this appointment than the last one,” Scully explains.

Mulder freezes.

“She?” he says, his voice raspy with awe. “It’s a girl?”

He hears Scully release a shuddering breath before her voice comes back, with all the telltale signs of happy tears that he’s come to recognize in the last few months.

“It’s a girl,” she confirms.

It’s a girl. He’s gonna have a baby girl.

“That’s– that’s amazing, Scully! That’s… wow!”

“I know,” she says. “I’m– You’re not disappointed, are you?”

“Disappointed?” he asks, furrowing his brow. “Why would I be disappointed?” 

Disappointed is the absolute last thing he’d be feeling right now. Elated is a better word. Maybe a little scared, but he’ll get over it.

“I don’t know, I just thought… You know, you talked about coaching little league, and I’m sure you want someone to watch basketball with you…”

He laughs. He can’t help but laugh. “Just because you don’t like basketball doesn’t mean other girls don’t,” he says matter-of-factly. “And have you seen girls softball teams, Scully? They’re brutal. You try getting hit by one of those giant neon yellow ostrich eggs at 50 miles an hour. I volunteered to practice with the girls once in high school. Almost lost an eye.”

“But what if she doesn’t like sports at all?” Scully asks, and he’d bet good money that she’s chewing on her lip right now, the way she does when she’s worried. “What if she’s on the chess team or plays the violin or the piano?”

Oh, Scully.

“Then I’ll learn all the names of her concertos and cheer her on at every chess tournament,” he answers simply. “Look, Scully, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you and I are both gigantic nerds. I think we’ll be prepared for whatever she’s interested in when she gets older.”

She . They can finally stop talking about her in abstract terms. A girl. A daughter.

“Your mom’s gonna flip,” he says when she doesn’t respond. Margaret Scully has a grandson, but no granddaughter. He can just see the little plaid dresses, frilly socks, Mary Jane shoes, and giant velvet bows in their future. She’ll be spoiled rotten.

“I can’t wait to meet her,” Scully says, sounding wistful. 

“Me too,” he agrees. “When I get back, we’re going out shopping again. I think maybe this time I’ll be able to hold it together in the clothes section.”

That earns him a laugh.

“I’m willing to bet it will go the same way as last time,” she teases back, and she’s probably not wrong. Just picturing this baby, a little girl like the one he’s holding now, has him emotionally on edge.

“I– I’ll talk to you later, okay?” he says, glancing up at the clock. “Let the thought of warm baby snuggles keep you from freezing your butt off.”

She sighs, the annoyance of her less than ideal assignment returning. “Thanks for reminding me, ” she intones.

They stay on the line a moment more, waiting to see who will be the one to hang up. Eventually he hears a soft click, and he smiles down at the phone in his hand. Goodbyes have never been necessary between them. Maybe that’s just another way they’re weird, but he likes it.

The baby in his lap gurgles, and he sets his phone on the table to turn his attention back to her. He sees her differently now, with the knowledge that he has a little girl on the way too.

“You’re going to be an amazing father,” Ellen says, eyes shining as she watches him.

Mulder feels his cheeks beginning to burn. “Oh. Thanks.”

“No, really,” she says more insistently. “You seem to care a lot already. And wanting to be involved… Well, that’s everything. Your wife is a very lucky woman.”

“I’m the one who’s lucky,” he says, and he truly believes it.

He’s the luckiest man on the face of the Earth.

~~~

wife guy / girl dad mulder says you get another chapter :)

Chapter 22/34 - pizza boxes

The sound of keyboards clacking fills the dimly-lit room. A greasy bag that once held at least a dozen cheap tacos from the place across town sits atop a stack of empty pizza boxes, not that the inhabitants of this particular abode pay much attention to that kind of thing. 

“Hey, here's something weird,” Langly says, looking up from the computer monitor, the unnatural light of it reflecting off his glasses.

“What? Is it Krycek again?” Frohike asks, crossing the short distance to lean over the other man’s shoulder. “What’s that little rat up to now?”

Langly adjusts the bright, warm-toned desk lamp to minimize the glare on the screen.

“No, just something strange in my sweep of government records,” he says.

“Mention of a virus? Shadow government stuff?”

Langly shakes his head. “It flagged a document mentioning Mulder and Scully's names.”

This bit of information piques Byers’ interest from across the room. “What agency? Homeland? DoD?” he asks, joining the other two at Langly’s computer.

“County court in Annapolis, Maryland,” Langly reads off the screen. “Dated December 24, 1999.”

“Open it!” Frohike demands impatiently.

It takes only a few seconds to hack the database, which is a little alarming. What would the public think if they knew how insecure county records are? But that’s a concern for another day. 

The document slowly appears on screen, and three pairs of eyes take in the information all at once.

“That's… unexpected,” Byers says.

“Married? Since when?” Frohike exclaims.

Langly looks up at him with a condescending glare and smacks the older man in the stomach. “Since Christmas, idiot, haven't you been paying attention?”

“Not that, stupid,” Frohike says, quick to respond with a slap to the back of the blond man’s shaggy head. “Since when are they an item? Did I miss something?”

“You seen a rock on her finger lately? I haven't,” Langly comments.

“Get Mulder on the phone, that little sneak owes us an explanation!” Frohike snaps, pointing a finger at Byers.

The phone rings a few times before it connects, the voice of their friend coming through on speakerphone.

“Now's not a good time, boys,” he says. There's some kind of noise in the background, someone speaking, but they can’t make out who it is. It doesn’t sound like anyone they know. 

“Mulder!” Frohike yells into the phone. “What gives, man?!”

“Yeah, bro, we'd have thrown you a bachelor party if we'd known,” Langly adds.

A sigh crackles through on the other end of the line, and Mulder murmurs something indistinguishable to someone before finding somewhere quieter to talk.

“How'd you find out?” he asks, sounding annoyed.

“Your marriage license record came up in one of our regular sweeps. No other threats, by the way,” Byers answers.

“Except maybe Frohike,” Langly jokes. “He might want to challenge you for her hand.”

Byers snickers.

“Shut up! I'm happy for them,” Frohike says, glaring at his friends.

Langly rolls his eyes. “You never stood a chance.”

“There's an explanation for this, I swear, now's just really not a good time,” Mulder says, insistent.

“What's there to explain?” Frohike asks. “You guys fell in love and got married without telling your best friends. No big deal.”

He’s not genuinely trying to guilt trip Mulder, but it does sting a little that they hadn’t said anything to them. Maybe just a little tiny guilt trip. A guilt excursion, if you will.

“It's not… really that simple,” Mulder says, his words hesitant.

“What do you mean?” Byers asks.

“I know you didn't knock her up, obviously, so what more is there?” Langly says, as delicate as a brick to the face.

“Well,” Mulder says, “I kind of did, in a manner of speaking.”

“Scully's pregnant?” Byers asks. This is shocking news. It should be impossible! “But—”

“No, Scully's not pregnant,” Mulder quickly corrects before the conversation can spiral out of control more than it already has. “But… we are expecting, actually. Hopefully.”

“IVF?” Byers asks.

“Not IVF. We tried that last year though, you're a little late to the party.”

Jeez, what haven’t they missed? Maybe the real conspiracy is whatever the heck is going on with Mulder and Scully.

“Then, what—?”

“We're adopting,” he says, interrupting them. They can almost hear his smile over the phone, all goofy and care-free. “There's a woman that selected us to adopt her baby when she’s born, so… I'm actually at this class for new parents with Scully right now. I should probably be getting back. Don't want the teacher to flunk me.”

“Wait wait wait,” Frohike says. “Adopting? How long have you guys been… you know?”

“Well we only started talking about it back in November. It's honestly moving pretty fast, but we're excited.”

“Not that,” Frohike says, waving his hands in the air. “You and Scully!”

“Oh,” Mulder says awkwardly. “Um, we actually aren't. A couple, I mean. If that's what you're asking.”

Frohike’s jaw drops. “You're kidding.”

“No, I'm not.”

“But you're married!” Langly insists.

“A formality.”

“The IVF!”

“Favor for a friend.”

“Yeah, right!” Frohike says with a laugh, sharing a disbelieving look with the other Gunmen.

“You love her, don't you?” Byers asks, sincerity breaking through his friends’ incredulity.

“If you're just gonna harass me, I'm going to hang up.”

Okay, so he’s done sharing for now. They’ll just have to try to get more out of him later.

“Mulder… what are we going to do with you?” Frohike asks, shaking his head.

“Listen, guys, I've got to go. We're learning how to change a diaper and I'd really like to not make a fool of myself, if at all possible.”

“Wait,” Frohike says. “Tell Scully congrats for us. We're happy for you, Mulder.”

“Yeah, we just think you're a complete idiot too,” Langly adds bluntly.

“Thanks, guys. We're really happy. Sorry I haven't been around, it's been crazy.”

Well, now at least they know why Mulder has been missing their poker nights and D&D lately.

“Don't worry about it, Mulder. Just—maybe tell us what's going on next time?” Byers suggests.

Mulder puffs out a laugh. “Sure, next time I marry my partner with the purpose of adopting a child, I'll let you know.”

Frohike points seriously at the phone, despite the fact that Mulder can’t see it. “Watch it, buddy, you're already on thin ice.”

“I'll talk to you guys soon,” Mulder says. “Oh, and if you're ever looking for me, I'm staying at Scully’s apartment now, by the way. I gave up my apartment.”

“Dude…” Langly says. There's something seriously wrong with those two.

“Alright, I gotta go. I'll tell Scully you say hi.” And with that, he hangs up, leaving the three amigos to take in everything they’d just learned.

“Aren't a couple…” Frohike grumbles, repeating his words. “They're a couple of idiots, I'll tell you that.”

Byers nods his agreement, and Langly shrugs. 

“Lucky kid, though.”

~~~

Lovely tag list ♡: [if you would like to be added or removed, let me know!]

@today-in-fic @ao3feed-msr @agent-troi @angegova @baronessblixen @calimanc @captainsolocide @clo-thespin @cutemothman @danasculls @deathsbestgirl @edierone @enigmaticxbee @figureofdismay @frogsmulder @gillian-anderson-in-the-tardis @hippocampouts @invidiosa @monaiargancoconutsoy @msrafterdark @numinousmysteries @primrose19 @randomfoggytiger @skelavender @skylarksong @stephy-gold @teenie-xf @the-redhead-in-a-dress @vincentsleftear

[starry-eyesanddaydreams]

December 18: Blankets and Snuggles

Sinclair Bryant x Reader

(Sequel to Day 15's Cards and Coals) You and Sinclair are falling hard and fast, but you've both still healing from recent hurts and need to talk.

{Okay, here we go, Day 18 of @deepperplexity 's Rickmas prompts and the continuation of you and Sinclair.

You opened the door to your flat and saw Sinclair's handsome face. “Hey, right on time! Make yourself comfy, I have something on the stove.” You said quickly as you hurried back to the kitchen. Sinclair hung up his coat by the door before making his way to the couch. Your little flat was dotted with Christmas decorations, the couch had blankets and throw rugs laid across the back and arms. The pot-belly stove in one corner was lit and casting a nice warmth through the room. Sinclair sat back on the plush couch and waited for you, watching a little mechanical Christmas carousel ornament spin slowly on the side table. After a few moments you came back into the room, carrying a tray with a plate and two mugs. “Sorry to run off,” you said, “If you take your eyes off milk it burns in a heartbeat.” You set the tray on the coffee table and almost laughed at the way Sinclair’s eyes lit up. “You made the gingerbread men.” He said, picking up one of the cookies to look at the decorations. “Yup, finally got around to it.” You’d been spending most of your free time away from work with Sinclair. The first day you’d met, he’d taken you to Lenora’s bakery, and had afterwards just wandered aimlessly while Sinclair showed you around town. Since then you’d gone out to dinner together, trolled through book shops and a local Christmas market, he’d even taken you for a drive in the country which ended up with exploring a beautiful patch of woods near the river.  

“These look so cute it’s almost a shame to eat them. Almost.” He said before biting the arm off a cookie. At this you did laugh before handing him a mug, “This won’t be as good as Lenora’s but it goes well with the gingerbread. Sinclair took the mug and took a sip of the hot chocolate, “This is delicious.” He said, closing his eyes as he took another sip. You sat quietly, watching him for a moment. You were falling hard and fast for this man. And as much as it excited you, it scared you as well. Sinclair opened his eyes and looked at you, his expression falling slightly at the look in your eyes, “What’s wrong?” He asked. You took a breath and set your mug back on the table before saying, “I need to talk to you about something.” Sinclair set his cup and the half-eaten cookie on the table as well and gently took on of your hands in his, “What’s the matter?” You looked down at where his hand was wrapped warmly around yours for a moment, before looking up at his hazel eyes, “Remember when I said I moved out here for a change of scene?” Sinclair nodded. “Well, it was a change of everything really. I needed to start over fresh. My last relationship, well, it wasn’t a healthy one. He was very controlling, closed off, quick tempered. I felt always on edge, started doubting myself all the time, feeling like everything I did was wrong. In the end I was a wreck. That’s why I moved out of the city. I needed to be somewhere new where I could relax and put myself back together.” You threaded your fingers with his and squeezed gently, “Then I met you, and you just made me feel so safe and happy right from the start. And the more I get to know you, the more I like you. But part of me is scared, to move to quickly. And it’s nothing that you’ve done, it’s just me and my issues. But I wanted to tell you this now, so we don’t get a misunderstanding down the line. I’ve had enough silence and tension in my life, I want to just be open about things.”

Sinclair felt his heart clench and he felt an aching need to hold you close and keep you safe. He hated the thought of you being hurt or feeling by anyone. He didn’t quite know what to say right now. You wanted openness though. “I was married, for a few years.” He said, slowly, “I got a divorce four months ago.” “I guessed that.” You said, quietly. “How?” “The tan line from you’re ring’s not faded fully yet.” Sinclair looked to where your hand was still linked with his, “Huh, I hadn’t noticed it for a while.” You gently squeezed your fingers around his again. “What happened? If you don’t mind my asking.” Sinclair took a breath before answering, “She cheated on me. When I found out, part of me hoped that things would work out, that we could get through it. But I just couldn’t look at her the same again. It was broken beyond repair, we both new it. Looking back now, I don’t think we would have lasted even if she didn’t cheat. We just weren’t suited. After the divorce, for a while after I felt like I was just…going through the motions of life. Then I started to feel like myself again. And then I met you. I understand what you said. The way I’ve felt since I met you, part of me wants to just jump into that feeling. But I think it’s completely understandable that we’re both a bit gun shy.” You wondered what kind of idiot would hurt this beautiful man. You wanted to do anything to keep that beautiful sparkle in his eyes. “I think we both deserve to be happy too.” You said, “Do you want this…us…to become something more?”

Sinclair looked at you adoringly, “More than anything.” “So do I. Can we just, take things easy? Enjoy this as it comes? Talk more about it later?” “That sounds wonderful.” He just looked at you for a moment before asking softly, “Can I hug you?” “Yes, please.” You said and Sinclair drew you into his arms. You rested your head on his shoulder, enjoying the soft fabric of his jumper against your skin and the strong feel of his arms. The two of you stayed like that for a while, before you spoke up, “Want to watch a movie and snuggle?” His chuckle against your ear was the most beautiful sound, “Yes,” he said, “Grab one of those blankets.” While you grabbed your fluffiest blanket from the arm of the couch behind you, Sinclair leaned forward to get the tv remote and your cups, snagging a couple more cookies as well to share. You spent the rest of the evening like that, snuggled up on the couch with the blanket across both of you and Sinclair’s arm around your shoulder, watching an Agatha Christie double feature you found on tv. Both content to just be and enjoy this feeling.

——————————————————————

Thanks for reading! Sinclair is so Taurus coded and if a Taurus shares their food, they love you.

[callme-dickmaster]

sweetheart - (eddie munson x reader)

Ch. Sixteen - Eddie’s Girl

summary: eddie finally gets the balls to ask y/n the question he’d been avoiding for months

cw: 18+ (minors dni) this is obnoxiously long, unfortunate use of y/n, afab!reader (i’ve been meaning to put this one in) language, fluff, like tooth rotting fluff, mentions bruises left from abuse, billy’s dad, implied smut at the end -i think that’s all-

author’s note: it’s been such a long time omg sorry it took me so long to upload this but a ton of shit got in my way and i haven’t had the time to do much but edit the chapters i already wrote or uploaded. but this one is out finally soerrr enjoy it lol love you <3

<<Part 15 --- Part 17>>

Eddie woke up to an empty bed the next morning much to his dismay. He groaned, running his hands down his face. He got up, went to the bathroom, and put on some pajama pants before deciding to try and find something to eat. “Morning!” Y/n chirped, flipping over an omelet in a pan. Wayne lifted up his mug in greeting and smiled up at Y/n when she served him his breakfast.

“Thank you, dolly,” Wayne said, sipping his coffee before cutting into his omelet. Y/n smiled sweetly at Eddie and took the pan back to the stove. Eddie followed and leaned on the counter next to her. He was silent for once as he watched her and looked her up and down. Dark purple love bites showed down the side of her neck and just under the collar of the shirt she was wearing that she stole from Eddie’s closet. A faded Dio shirt and a pair of black shorts she also obviously stole. Eddie glanced at Wayne who pointed between him and Y/n and gave him a thumbs up. Eddie smiled and flipped him off, making Wayne chuckle and take a drink of coffee.

Eddie came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “I thought you left,” he mumbled. Y/n smiled, whisking the eggs and mushrooms in a bowl.

“No, I wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye. Also, I like it here, why would I leave?” She asked, smiling at him sitting on her shoulder. Eddie grinned and let her go to grab a plate from the cupboard. Y/n poured the omelet mixture into the pan and watched it. This just confirmed what Eddie was hoping was the truth: Y/n liked him too. Why else would she have stayed?

Eddie furrowed his eyebrows and took her arm, staring at the dark purple bruises on her wrist. They contrasted so brightly against her skin he was surprised he didn’t see them before. He stuck out his bottom lip, gently running his finger over them. Y/n raised an eyebrow at him, “You good?” She asked.

Eddie blinked and nodded, still carefully examining the blotches of purple and yellowed skin. Y/n bruised like a peach, but Billy always loved to leave his mark.

“What, uh… what happened?” He asked, rubbing soft circles on them. Y/n shrugged nonchalantly, plating Eddie’s breakfast for him.

“Billy was pissed we were hanging out again. It’s nothing new, don’t worry,” she said, kissing his cheek and moving to the fridge. Eddie closed his eyes with a sigh, and he cut into his omelet.

“It’s onions you don’t like right?” Y/n asked. Eddie smirked and nodded; his cheeks red at the fact she remembered. Y/n grinned and gave him a thumbs up. She poured herself a glass of apple juice, smiling at him over the rim of the cup. Eddie squinted and shook his head, “Behave,” he mouthed.

Y/n bit her lip and shrugged cheekily, prancing off to his room. Wayne leaned back in his chair, watching her until she closed the door behind her.

“So… how long has that been goin on?” He asked his nephew, smiling suggestively. Eddie smiled, poking at the last bite of his breakfast. “About twelve hours. You know, Wayne, I-I don’t know if I’ve ever felt this way about someone before. It’s soon, I know, but…” Eddie trailed off, turning red up to his ears. Wayne smiled, patting the table across from him. Eddie sat down, scooting in close and waiting for Wayne’s words of wisdom.

“Just be careful, Ed. Treat her good. You know better than anyone how easy something can hit rock bottom. I know you like her a lot, I can tell she likes you a whole lot too. Just take care of her. Keep her safe… Watch out for her. Okay, son?” Wayne asked, nodding at him.

Eddie smiled, looked at his bedroom door and nodded. “I will… I promise I will,” he said. Wayne smiled, pat Eddie’s shoulder and stood up, wiping his hands on a paper towel. He closed the blinds and set up his bed, bidding Eddie a goodnight before he got comfy for a nap. Eddie took a breath before going back to his room where Y/n had been hiding out.

She was laying in his bed against the wall, apple juice still in hand as she read a random book she found on his nightstand. “Hey…” Eddie said, grabbing her foot and wiggling it. Y/n snickered, turning the page in his copy of The Hobbit.

“You like The Hobbit?” Eddie asked, crawling over to lay beside her.

Y/n smiled and shrugged, “I don’t know, I’m only one chapter in. I’ll let you know when I decide,” she said.

Eddie laid his head on her shoulder, reading the pages that he practically had memorized at this point. Y/n wrapped her arm around him, letting him lean into her side and hug her tight. Y/n ran her fingers through his hair, making him let out a content hum as he shut his eyes.

“Will you read to me?” Eddie mumbled. Y/n giggled, hummed a ‘sure,’ and started the next paragraph.

“And of course they did none of these dreadful things, and everything was cleaned and put away safe as quick as lightning, while the hobbit was turning round and round in the middle of the kitchen trying to see what they were doing. Then they went back and found Thorin with his feet on the fender smoking a pipe. He was blowing the most enormous smoke-rings, and wherever he told one to go, it went…”

Eddie smiled softly to himself, burying his face in her shoulder. “Is Wayne asleep?” Y/n asked when she finished the page. Eddie nodded, a sleepy ‘mhm’ coming from him. Y/n grinned and put the book on the table before she threw her leg over him and straddled him, sitting on his stomach. Eddie smiled; his eyes still closed as he trailed his hands up her thighs to take her hands.

“We can’t be doin’ that right now, babe… He’s right out there… it’s Saturday,” Eddie mumbled, rubbing circles into her hands with his thumbs. Y/n smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to a hickey she left on his collarbone.

“No sex! I just wanna kiss for a bit…” Y/n said, leaning down and pressing her lips to his. Eddie smiled, sliding his hand into her hair as he kissed her back. They made out lazily in his bed. Y/n wrapped her arms around his neck while she was seated in his lap. Eddie ran his hands up her back, rubbing calming paths up and down her spine. Eddie groaned softly, peeking an eye open before he wrapped his arms around her and flipped them over until she was lying beside him. Y/n giggled, looking into his big brown eyes. Eddie smiled softly, brushing his hand across her cheek. Y/n’s eyebrows twitched, seeing that he looked deep in thought as he stared at her.

“What?” She smiled.

Eddie squinted, “W-what does this mean?” He stuttered. Y/n tilted her head like a confused puppy, simply not understanding what he was asking.

“Like, what does this mean for us?” Eddie repeated. Y/n shrugged, very lightly pinching his wrist. She wanted him to ask her. She needed him to ask her. Just… really quickly ask her out. Even if he said something like, “You wanna just keep having sex?” That would be fine too! Though Y/n would really like to be his girlfriend. She could only imagine by the way he treated her as a friend how much better he would treat her as a partner.

“What do you want it to mean?” Y/n asked, smiling softly at him. Eddie bit his lip, hesitating before pulling her impossibly close, not wanting to pop the bubble they’d surrounded themselves with. They both had it in their heads that talking about what they were doing meant that everything had to change, and they didn’t like change. But Eddie’s been told before that sometimes the change was good. That the change didn’t always mean that everything was going bad. Just a new road to go down.

But Eddie was scared. He really liked this girl, and he was afraid if he told her how he felt, asking her out, everything would change. And he didn’t figure for the better.

“W-well, I don’t know, I guess…” Eddie trailed, “I mean… if I asked you to go out with me, like be my girl and stuff… would you say yes?” He mumbled, clenching his fist in her shirt nervously.

Y/n smiled and nodded, tossing her arm over him, and snuggling into him. “Yes?” Eddie asked excitedly. Y/n giggled, “Yes, Eddie, I’ll be your girlfriend.”

Eddie’s face broke out into a huge grin and he pulled her forward, pressing his lips to hers again. Y/n smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck as his went around her waist. He let Y/n break the kiss first but set his forehead on hers to ground himself.

Y/n smiled, soothing her thumb across his cheekbone. “You okay, pretty boy?” She giggled.

Eddie grinned and hummed, afraid that if he opened his eyes it would all go away. That none of it was real and he was dreaming. That she wasn’t real. But, as if to prove him wrong, Y/n snuggled closer to him, kissing his neck as she nestled as close as she could get.

Eddie drove Y/n home around dinner time, and she made sure they held hands the whole drive. He drew imaginary circles over the back of her hand, listening to her mindlessly talk about something Robin said in gym class.

Eddie walked her up to the door after parking the van in the street. “So… I could pick you up on Monday? For school, I mean,” Eddie said, twirling his hair around his finger. Y/n smiled, looking at her feet but shook her head.

“I wish I could. I gotta be there for Max…” she said with a sad smile.

Eddie snapped and tapped his foot, “Damn… I forgot about him. Fucking shithead. Keeping me away from you,” he giggled.

Y/n laughed and nodded, mumbling ‘yeah, such a shithead’ before Billy stomped out onto the porch. He glowered at them, pushed past Eddie and went straight to his car.

Y/n ran a hand through her hair with a sigh, “I should probably go inside… I’ll see you soon, okay?” She said, standing on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek. Eddie smiled and pulled her into a hug. He leaned back and gave her a peck on the lips in goodbye, not missing the surprised look on her face.

“Are we good?” He asked.

Y/n nodded, “Better than good. Bye, love,” she said, stepping inside.

“Bye, babe,” Eddie replied, walking back to his van. Y/n smiled and shut the door, laying her back against it and biting her lip. She covered her face with her hands and giggled into her palms.

“Why are you so happy,” Y/n’s stepdad Neil sneered from his spot on the couch. Y/n’s mom Susan sat next to him with genuine interest in her daughter’s happiness.

“Oh, nothing! I just like it here,” Y/n said, waltzing back into her room. Neil rolled his eyes and turned back to the TV.

Monday morning Y/n walked into first period with a sigh. She almost didn’t do her makeup that morning since she had absolutely no motivation, but she liked making other people uncomfortable with the way she looked.

Eddie was there early that morning for one and he was waiting for her in the chair behind hers. They didn’t get much of a chance to talk because Mr. Mundy called Y/n up to his desk to talk about her grades on the last couple of tests. Once she finally caved and agreed to tutoring from Chrissy Cunningham, class started. Eddie was disappointed but he still got to see her. After class Eddie had a deal, so again, he didn’t get to talk to her. He would just have to watch from afar…

He sighed, leaning against his van and smoking a cigarette during what was supposed to be study hall. Eddie blew out smoke, deciding to sit in the back end of the van and read whatever Stephen King novel Y/n forgot in there.

The second the bell rang, Y/n jumped up from her seat and booked it to the science wing where she knew Eddie would be. And there he was. Digging around in his locker for his history book that was wedged in pretty good with all the other stuff that got shoved in.

“Munson!” Y/n hissed, meeting him at his locker. Eddie smiled down at her, his heart rate picking up when he saw her. “Hey you! I’ve been meaning to call you,” he said, tossing another book in his messy locker.

Y/n ignored her flaming cheeks and smiled, reaching in to pry his history textbook out for him.

“Oh! Thanks!” Eddie laughed, covering his mouth when he snorted.

Y/n giggled, pulling the book away and out of his reach as he reached for it so he could go crawl into a hole and die. “What do I get in return for this act of pure kindness?” she smirked, hugging the book to her chest. “You don’t do anything out of pure kindness, babe,” Eddie replied.

“Just kiss me,” she sighed, leaning up and kissing him.

Eddie smiled, pulling her closer by the belt loop. He was still floored by the fact that she wanted to kiss him like this. On her own. Not because of a dare, not to make a joke of him, but because she wanted to. In front of everyone. Y/n pulled back, setting their foreheads together and scratching the stubble on his jaw. Eddie grinned, placing his hands on her hips.

Of course, the moment had to be ruined by something…

“Okay, lovebirds, let’s get to class!” Mrs. Click said, waving at them to move on. “Come on!” She urged shooing them. Eddie rolled his eyes and stood up straight before he grabbed Y/n’s hands and started walking towards their fourth period. Y/n pulled him to a stop once they rounded the corner with a sinister smile on her face.

“I was thinking of skipping… maybe check out the back of your van?” She giggled, lacing their fingers together and biting her lip to seal the deal. Eddie’s eyes widened and he smiled widely, “You’re a succubus,” he laughed, but still pulled her towards the back parking lot where his van was parked.

“You don’t seem too upset by that,” Y/n said. Eddie turned to her with a huge grin.

“Why would I when I’ve got the prettiest girl in Hawkins for a girlfriend?”

taglist: @sisgotdemons @tlclick73 @deafeningmoontragedy @marjoriea13 @playfuloutcast @twosluttychains @leetaeilsnecktattoo @lil-quinnie @razzles-bottom-lip @originalstar1 @yessargeantbarnes @bebe07011 @shotgunhallelujah @uselessastheginlasagnaa @mynameismothra @niragis-right-hand-rabbit @shecagobaby @moviefreak1205 @munsonmunster @chonkzombie @sadbitchfangirl @screaming-blue-bagel @urdad-hot @kjaxm @xxaestheticboyxx @ok-boke @coffeeaddictednymph @ohmeganav

small author’s note: hey y’all it’s been the longest time omgg I’ve just been really busy with theater and work and school and all kinds of stuff just gross icky shit. But I’m back okie? I say that every time but i mean it for real. Ok love you <3

[artsyriv]

The End

24 hours turned into 36 hours, which turned into 72. All of that time, Barry didn't sleep, instead asking everyone on the crew when they had last seen her, and taking a flyover of the local area. There was no sign of her.

Days turned into weeks. The monotony of it was driving Barry insane. He woke up, researched a new location, then scouted it with Taako, then back to the ship when they inevitably found nothing. Even Taako wasn't as ruthless as Barry, taking time to eat and sleep. These were luxuries that he couldn't afford. 

Sometimes he would break down in the middle of the night and Lucretia would make him a cup of tea. He didn't know why she was up, or why her knuckles were stained with ink, or why she looked so sad, but he appreciated the gesture. She tried to tell him to sleep but he ignored her, crashing for the bare minimum to stay functional. Functional as if he were a robot. 

He felt like a robot. The world felt grey and distant, and everything felt like a task, a chore assigned to his program. He didn't understand the glances towards him and then away, the whispers. 

Merle and Magnus persuaded him to take a shower and a nap after day 8, but when he had collapsed into his bed, he could smell her and he started crying so hard that he couldn't breathe. Magnus had come in to check on him, and when he saw the situation, he picked Barry up and put him in his own bed. 

They didn't suggest he try to sleep in his own bed again, but offered theirs as a lifeline. Barry knew they pitied him but he didn't have time to care. He had to keep working. He had to find her. She had to be out there somewhere. 

Weeks turned into months. Dead end after dead end was detailed on the map in front of Barry's eyes but he could barely focus. His hands shook from too much coffee, black coffee, he didn't have time for anything else. 

"Barry, can I talk to you for a minute?" It was Davenport, although Barry had to blink a few times to make sure. 

"Sure." 

They went into his office and Davenport began immediately. "Barry, you're unstable. You need to pull yourself out of your self-destructive spiral for the sake of the mission-"

"THE MISSION?" Barry didn't register his volume but Davenport's face showed his shock. "THE MISSION'S OVER! We can't get home, we outran the Hunger, we did it! There is no mission anymore!"

Davenport took a deep breath. "Ok, then. How about for Lup?"

"LUP'S GONE!" The silence extended beyond the room, the entire ship was silent, as if everyone was listening in. "Dav, I have to find her." 

"You can't do it like this."

That didn't stop Barry from trying. He was trying something different now. If Lup hadn't come back yet, she might be stuck as a lich without a body. And, lucky for both of them, his Relic would allow her to have a new body. He just had to go and get it. 

Taako walked into the room, stepping past crumbled paper and spilled inkwells and dirty mugs. "How's it going?"

Barry's head jerked up from where he had nodded off. He wiped away some drool that had formed. "Oh sorry, I- sorry, so, um, anyway, there’s a… there's a dungeon out beyond the Felicity Wilds? It's a… subterranean… demonic keep… thing. There’s a bunch of arcane energy coming off of it. I was gonna check it out tonight, if you wanna come with."

Taako looked at him with such pity but Barry tried his best to ignore it. "Yeah, where were- where were- remind me, how far is that in relation to the last glassing?"

Barry pointed to a spot. It was far from the last glassing, closer to some of the previous ones. He knew it was a stretch, but he couldn't tell Taako his real reason, not yet. There hadn't been a glassing in months, so it was fine to work back a ways, right? "I've triangulated it here."

Taako shrugged, buying it for at least the moment. "Yeah, it seems like a good a place as any. Do you want to do the usual: I’ll go down and start casting around, see if I can pick up anything, and then- you start talking to folks?"

Barry nodded, but he couldn't fight the ever-growing feeling that it was useless, this was all useless. She was dead somewhere, or started a new life or something. She was gone. He just had to accept that. "Taako, what if she's just gone?"

"Who?"

The floor fell out from under him. He was missing something, he was doing something. He had to remember something but there was something else in the way. It was all fading and dusty and as he looked at the map, he couldn't remember what he had been looking for. "Ta-Taako, I'm-" Taako had to remember. He knew. He was supposed to know. 

"What if who's gone?" She looked like Taako, they looked like Taako? They looked like? He was grasping at memories that were fleeing from him. He looked at Taako and saw a stranger. What was his name again. Lup. 

"What are we…? Oh, god, Lup… Taako, I’m- I can’t remember her face, Taako. Taako, where-" Barry grabbed at the table, at his face. What was wrong with him? He was missing something big, something important. He couldn't live without it.

"Whose face?" And if Taako couldn't remember, then no one could. Not unless they were the Voidfish.

"Is this Fisher?" Not unless they were a lich. Barry's eyes snapped to Taako's wand. They were out of options. Out of time. He knew what had to happen. 

"Taako, k- kill me! Right now! I’ll- I’ll remember if I’m a lich, I can- please, Taako, just kill me! It’ll- I’ll be okay! I can’t forget, I’m, I’m, begging you, please, Taako! Please!" And then a bolt hit his chest. And another in his stomach. Barry staggered backward, his back hitting the railing hard. This was the end of everything. 

He saw Taako standing there, and for a moment he almost reached out, almost thought it was her. But then the static claimed that thought, and he was just a strange elf who had a look of panic and dread. Barry gave a thumbs up and a smile. It's all he could do. 

Consciousness was painful. It had been so long since he had last slept. There was wind rushing in his ears, in his hair, as he fell. He let go. 

[reigningqueenofwords]

Rock Stars and Love

Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: 1,271 Request: @casdeanqveen I’d love any type of fic that involves Dean as a rockstar!! I love all your fics and if you don’t want to do it, don’t worry ❤️

Read on AO3

Dean groaned, rolling over. He was surprised when the other side of his bed was empty. Where the hell were you? Furrowing his brows, he sat up. He could tell that you hadn’t even been to bed last night. Then again, he could barely remember most of last night. Yawning, he pushed the blankets off him and got out of bed. “Babe?” He called, scratching the back of his neck.

Walking out of his room, he stretched his back. “Yo!” He yelled, receiving nothing but silence in return. There hadn’t been a night since the two of you started dating that he’d slept alone. He shuffled his way down to the kitchen for some coffee and stopped in the door when he saw you sitting at the table. You were reading a book, and sipping some coffee. “I was trying to find you.” He said as he moved forward.

You looked over your book and raised an eyebrow. “So you do know I exist?” You asked, your voice sounding bored.

“What the hell are you talking about?” He asked, grabbing a mug.

“Last night, during the after party. I kept trying to talk to you, but you were too busy with the band getting trashed.” You told him, putting your book down. “By the time two rolled around, I went home with Vanessa.”

He groaned. “I’m sorry, babe. I’m still getting used to all this.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “I’ve been your girlfriend for six years, Dean. You’ve been famous for less than a year. I’d think that it wouldn’t be hard to remember who I am. Or are you going to be one of those rock stars that goes after some hot piece of ass now that he’s got money?”

“God, no! I love you!” He told you, stirring his coffee. “I was excited after the turn out to last night’s concert, babe. I was celebrating with the band. So what? It’s not like I was off with some groupie.”

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed your book and coffee. “I just hope it doesn’t get to that point. I was with you when you were a broke musician sleeping on friend’s couches, living off Ramen. Don’t hurt the people that truly care about you for those who only see dollar signs.” You walked out, wanting to change out of the clothes from the night before.

Dean watched you go, knowing that you were right. He was getting so caught up in the fame, that he’d been brushing off everyone else. Knowing you, you’d want time to cool off, so he sat at the table, drinking his coffee. Half way through his mug, it was cold, so he abandoned it to look for you. He’d bought this house six months ago, and it was a lot bigger than he was used to.

He found you lounging on the balcony that was connected to the room you shared with him. You heard him walk out and sit down, but didn’t open your eyes. “Are you bored, Dean?” Your voice was quiet.

“Bored? No.”

You turned your head, glancing at him. “Please don’t let us get to that point. If you reach the point where you can’t see yourself with me, let me know. Don’t keep me around out of pity.”

Dean moved to sit next to you, his hand cupping your cheek. “I will never, ever reach that point. I love you.” He kissed you gently.

It had been a few weeks since that after party, and he seemed to be trying more. He was on the road now, so you didn’t see him as much as you’d like. One morning while you were eating breakfast, there was a knock at the door. Confused, you answered it. It was a delivery of roses, and an envelope. Smiling, you thanked the delivery man and shut the door. When you opened the envelope, a handwritten note fell out.

You’re joining me for tonight’s show. Limo will be picking you up at 10am. Don’t worry about luggage. That’s taken care of.

I love you, Dean

You chuckled, shaking your head. After putting the roses in a vase, you finished your breakfast. You had two hours until your ride showed up. You knew it would be a long drive, as he was performing six hours away that night.

You arrived an two hours before the show, and were ushered into the hotel. There, you were dressed, your make up was done, and so was your hair. You felt like a Barbie doll. Thankfully, they didn’t do anything over the top, keeping it to your style.

The team was quick, and then you were led back to the limo, and driven to the concert. You had yet to see Dean, or any of the band. One of the bodyguards led you to backstage, where you saw Dean. He grinned when he saw you, kissing you gently. “What’s all this about, Dean?”

“Can’t I treat my girl?” He chuckled.

“You didn’t have to do all this. I could have watched you in jeans and a t-shirt.”

He didn’t get a chance to respond before he was told he needed to make his way towards the stage. He kissed you once more and walked away. As you watched him, you bit your lip. You moved to where you could watch him, smiling. He always looked so happy when he performed, and that’s why you supported him. Even when he got paid next to nothing for a gig, you wanted him happy.

Halfway through his set, he stopped playing, which was surprising. That wasn’t something that he did. “Now, I have a very special guest here with me tonight.” You furrowed your brows. Who was that? “My girl, Y/N. Come on out here, babe.” Your eyes went wide. “Don’t be shy.” He chuckled.

Slowly you walked out to him, a nervous smile on your face. You waved to the crowd who was screaming. It was so damn loud. Looking at him, the nerves seemed to calm down a bit.

Dean took your hand. “Now, this is the one you need to be thanking! She supported me when I was nothing but a broke punk. Sleeping on couches and eating the cheapest foods I could.” He grinned at you. “She pushed me to follow my dream. Thanks to her, I’m here, performing for all of you. Give her the loudest cheer you can!” The crowd went nuts, making you laugh. “Now, I surprised her- having her come here, getting pampered, and pulling her out. There’s one more thing, though. Some of you were given letters when you came in. I’m hoping no one switched seats or anything. So, if you got a letter, hold them up!”

You were shocked when the words ‘will you marry me?’ were held up. “Oh my god.” You gasped. Turning to look at him, your eyes watered.

“You loved me when I was nothing but a rocker with a dream. I am who I am thanks to you. You’re the real rock star. Marry me?” He gave you that smirk that made you weak at the knees.

“Yes.” You grinned. He slipped the ring on your finger before pulling you in for a kiss. You laughed, never expecting him to be the marrying type. “Get on with your show. We can celebrate later.” You pecked his lips once more.

He nodded, taking a deep breath before watching you walk away. “Now let’s get back to why we’re all here! MUSIC!”

You laughed from the side. He’d forever act like an overgrown sixteen-year-old.

[ilovewriting06]

Don’t Go

A/N: I got this idea from a friend and it was her birthday so I caved and wrote it for her. She wanted something where the guy had a dream and was clingy to the girl instead of the other way around.

Steve’s POV

“I can’t do this anymore Steve.” I furrow my eyebrows as tears fill my eyes, “What do you mean? What can’t you do anymore?” She gestures between us before exhaling, “This! Us! I can’t handle it, you’re always off doing god knows what with god knows who, and every time you walk out that door I don’t know if you’ll walk back through it,” she pauses before licking her lips with a sigh, “I thought my love for you would allow me to keep doing this but I just can’t, I don’t love you enough for that. I’m sorry, but I don’t love you like you love me. And I have to get out before it’s too late.”

Tears flood my eyes before trailing down my face as she grabs her bag and walks out the door slamming it behind her.

I sit up in bed in a cold sweat as fear runs through my veins. I look around and my heart starts to slow to its normal rhythm when I see her sleeping peacefully on her side of the bed. I run my hand through my hair and exhale a shaky breath.

I watch as she furrows her brows before making a discontent noise. She rolls on her side before opening her tired eyes, I don’t blame her it’s only 3 in the morning. Her bleary eyes meet my red eyes and she scoots closer, “Stevie? What’s wrong?” I run my hand through her hair as she rests her head on my thigh with her arm thrown across my lap, “Nothing baby, go back to bed.” She hums obviously fighting to stay awake before nuzzling into my leg, “Lay back down, please.”

I lay back down and pull her closer than usual causing her to slur against my chest, “What’s wrong?” I rub her back to lull her back to sleep as I answer, “Just want to hold you.” I feel her smile against my skin as she wraps her arms around my torso a little tighter, “Mkay.”

I lay in bed the rest of the night taking comfort in her soft breaths and occasional snores thinking about our relationship. Y/N and I have been together for a little over six months and she had just moved in with me a week ago. Ever since Catherine I was skeptical of dating again and Y/N is my first and hopefully my last serious girlfriend since Catherine left me on my front porch with a Diamond ring in my pocket. Lately I’ve been having dreams of varying degrees and excuses of Y/N leaving me.

She’s noticed something has been bothering me and has asked me about it but hasn’t pushed it knowing it’ll only make me close off more. Y/N came into my life like a whirlwind, I never planned on dating someone again let alone loving someone and then Y/N showed up at my front door, literally. Her car had broken down and her phone had died and she came to the house to see if she could borrow a phone to call a tow truck. She used my phone and stayed in the house with me for a couple hours while she waited on the tow truck. Before she left she asked for my number and I gave it to her, and I haven’t looked back since.

Now that we’ve moved to the next level and I’ve fallen irreversibly in love with her I’m terrified she’s going to leave, just like Catherine.

I must have drifted off at some point because I wake up to an empty bed and internally panic when I see the bathroom door is open and the light is off. I jump out of bed and hurry down the stairs releasing a breath I didn’t know I was holding when I saw her sitting in the living room eating a waffle and watching a movie.

She looks up alarmed with a mouthful of waffle. She swallows what was in her mouth before putting it on the plate sitting on the coffee table. She stands up and walks over to me and cupping my jaw, “Steve, is everything okay?”

I look at her torn between telling her the truth or lying about it again. I look into her eyes to see worry and concern and I know I can’t lie to her, not again. I sigh and shake my head as a broken no passes my lips.

Y/N’s POV

I yawn as sunlight blares into my eyes. I look to my left to see Steve sound asleep with a peaceful look on his face, something I rarely ever see on him lately. I decide to let him sleep knowing that last night was one of the many nights he woke up with a start. I gently wiggle out of his grasp and freeze when he shifts. I sigh in relief when he relaxes back into the pillow before slipping out of bed and out the door.

I grab my waffles as they pop out of the toaster before falling onto the couch and turning on the Lion King. I look up startled when Steve comes down the stairs at an alarmingly fast speed before walking over to him when my waffle has properly been dealt with.

My heart aches as he admits to me what I’ve already know, he’s not okay. I guide him to the couch before sitting down and pulling him down with me, “Steve, what’s wrong? You can talk to me, I’m here for you.”

As if I slapped him his eyes snap to mine with hurt and a little bit of betrayal, “That’s the thing, what if you aren’t?” I furrow my eyebrows and scoot closer to him and put my hand on his jaw, “What do you mean?”

He jerks away from my hand as if it burned him and my stomach drops, “D-did I do something?” He shakes his head in a non convincing way before saying a small no. I huff and stare down at my twiddling thumbs that lay on my lap before looking up in confusion, “You’re going to leave, aren’t you?”

I sit up straight and grab his shoulders, “No! Of course not! Why on earth do you think I would leave you?” He looks at me with the same tired and haunted eyes I’ve seen over and over and over again night after night, and it clicks, “Oh my god, the dreams.” He looks down and mutters, “Please, don’t go.”

I shuffle to sit on my knees before grabbing his jaw and forcing him to face me, “I’m not leaving, it has never once crossed my mind. Does your job scare the shit out of me? Yes. But it’s part of you,” I poke his chest as I say you and continue on, “I fell in love with you because of your caring heart and doing whatever you feel is right, no matter the consequences or what people say. It’s scary at times but it’s you. The same you I met that day my shitty car broke is the same you sitting in front of me today. I am not going anywhere, I’m right where I belong.”

He looks up at me with teary, “Are you sure?” I frown before nodding, “Yes I’m sure, I’m not going anywhere.” He looks at me and I can see the relief in his eyes. I grab his hand and pull him down as I lay down, “Come here.” He lays down being careful not to squish me and he laid there with his head on my chest and his arm around my torso. I run my fingers through his hair and his eyes start to flutter as he fights to stay awake. “Go to sleep baby, I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Within minutes he’s asleep and I continue carding my hand through his hair as I smile, I’m not going anywhere, now or later.

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