#THEN CRUSHED IN AGONY BY THE THIRD

[lazyjellyfish300]

I....WHAT??

NOW BACON 😩😩😩

Une Belle Histoire II(Mafia!Toshinori Yagi x Fem!Reader)

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, virginity loss, vaginal fingering, fluff, love confessions, tattoo mentions, abusive/neglectful parent, forced marriage, angst word count: 4.3k pairings: Mafia!Toshinori Yagi x Fem!Reader summary: the bike ride is on after you find out your father will be gone for the weekend. Toshinori bares his soul to you, and you show him yours. after lovemaking and lots of time together, you two are inseparable. yet your father comes home with the news of you being betrothed to someone else, which hurts Toshinori completely. a/n: part 2 to this fic! banner art is from the lovely artist(freesilverwind)

dividers: @adornedwithlight

taglist: @thissaintjessi.  @cherryblossombankai, @sunflowers-heart,  @erebus-et-eigengrau, @pixelcafe-network

@thoraeth

You aren’t sure if Toshinori knew when your father was going away on a business trip or if it was just a perfect coincidence. You waited with bated breath all week to see him once more. Your pillows and sheets smelled of his beautiful cologne for what felt like ages. At night, you would hold onto your pillow and smell it. It was like Toshinori was here with you.

Soon, your father mentioned he was going to be out of town for the weekend. You would be mostly alone at home outside of the many people who make up the household staff. Though they would be there, it wasn’t like they took note of when you left and came home. Most of the time, it was mostly just your father who kept a close watch on you.

“Remember, I want you home at night. Be home before ten pm, could you?” Your father reminds you as he’s making his way out the door.

“Don’t worry, I will be. I don’t have anything important planned.” You fibbed as innocently as you could.

He smiles and ruffles your hair so softly. “That’s what I like to hear. I’ll be home Monday morning, okay?”

You wave him off, watching as he gets into the car and it drives off. Something about this took a big weight off your shoulder. Considering you didn’t know how you were going to sneak out to meet Toshinori for the bike ride had your father still been home. But now, you could spend most of the weekend with the man who captured your heart.

All day, you were thinking about the bike ride. You had no way to contact him, so you weren’t sure if he’d come over late at night or maybe he’d be early tomorrow morning. You occupy your time with reading books and listening to music. Still, you’re almost jumping out of your seat every time you think he could be on your balcony.

It’s late at night when there’s a knock on the window. You get up from your bed and open the door. Toshinori stands there with a bouquet of wildflowers. He hands them to you and you can see a soft pink tinge on his cheeks. You take them in your hands and bring them to your nose. They smell so floral and so sweet.

“I saw them and they reminded me of you. I needed to bring you some.” He explains as you guide him into your bedroom.

You take one of them and place it between the pages of a book. “Thank you, Toshinori. They are so lovely.”

He sits on your bed, fidgeting with his hands. He seems a little nervous, but not necessarily in a bad way. Neither of you have seen each other since the last time he was in your room. You place the bouquet in a vase on your vanity table. You take the water from a water bottle and fill the vase. Then you join him on the bed.

“My father’s gone for the weekend.” You say with a sly grin.

His eyes widen. “Then…our bike ride is on! I was thinking, tomorrow morning? Would that be okay with you?”

You lean in and kiss his cheek. “That’s perfect.”

He smiles so sweetly. You can see a few marks on his face that would suggest he’s been in some scuffles in the last week. You tenderly caress his cheeks, which makes his heart race in his chest. You are so precious, and for you to see him like this and still want to love him, it’s an incredible feeling.

“Are you alright?” You whisper.

He laughs. “I’m fine, doll.” He takes your hands in his and presses kisses to your knuckles. “It’s nice to be cared about, though. It’s a different feeling.”

There’s a melancholic tone to his voice when he admits this. You do understand that feeling too in your own way. Your mother died when you were younger and you didn’t have any other siblings. Your father had been the only one to dote on you, but even he often claimed to be too busy. You spent your life raised by nannies and teachers.

“I care about you a lot,” you whisper once more.

This makes him pull you onto his lap. He kisses you softly on the cheeks, then your nose. Then he cups your face in his hands and kisses you deeply. You know that maybe he won’t always be the best with words, but he can clearly show you how he feels about you through his actions. When you pull away, you feel dizzy from how good that kiss was.

“I care about you a lot too,”

Toshinori then hugs you close, his hands rubbing up and down your back. The softness of your sweater makes him feel warm inside. You deserve pretty things. He’ll spend the rest of his life working his fingers to the bone if it means to bring you the most beautiful things this world has to offer.

Your hands are so soft on his rugged face. He hasn’t shaved in a few days and you can feel a little stubble under your fingers. He smiles genuinely as you caress his cheeks once more. Getting lost in your eyes was certainly the most enchanting and breathtaking experience for Toshinori. He would forever look into your beautiful eyes if he could get lost in the loving gaze.

“You’re precious,” he kisses you once more.

The two of you lay on your bed after he gets a bit more undressed. He lets you lay your head on his chest, playing with your hair. He tells you about where he’s going to take you tomorrow. There’s a little town nearby that he thinks you will find charming. It sounds really wonderful and you’re excited to go there.

“Stay the night?” You ask him.

He chuckles. “Only if you promise to sleep tonight.”

You nod and smile. “Promise!”

He holds you close, keeping you warm all night long. Toshinori even manages to sleep peacefully for the first time in a long time.

-ˏˋ♥̩͙♥̩̩̥͙♥̩̥̩ ⑅⑅ ♥̩̥̩♥̩̩̥͙♥̩͙ˊˎ

The next morning, you wake up with Toshinori still clinging to you. His face is now pressed against your neck, and the soft tickle of his breath feels good on your skin. You gently run your fingers through his hair, pressing a kiss to each eyelid before you kiss his lips. The smile that spreads on his face is angelic. You wish to always wake up next to this beautiful man.

“Good morning, kitten.” His voice is raspy with sleep.

“Good morning.”

He snuggles closer, inhaling the smell of your scent. It’s like berries, flowers and soft blankets all wrapped up in one smell. It’s intoxicating in so many ways. He stays lucid though he wishes he could just spend the day in bed with you like this. Though, he knows he promises he will take you for that bike ride.

“Get dressed. I’ll climb down the way I came. I’ll meet you out front in twenty minutes.”

Toshinori gives you one more kiss before he leaves through the balcony door. You’re quick to get up, going to your vanity to begin getting ready. With your heart pounding in your chest from the excitement, you get dressed in something cute but also comfortable to wear.

And in twenty minutes, you’re out the door. You didn’t even have to tell anyone that you were leaving. The household staff was busy taking care of things inside. You did manage to leave a note for your maid, considering she would probably worry. You lied and said you were headed to a bookstore convention in the next town. 

You walk down the street and then you get a glimpse of Toshinori on his bike. He revs the engine in an attempt to show off before he parks it right next to you. You notice the saddlebags seem full. He then hands you a helmet that matches his.

“Put it on, kitten. Safety is important.”

Your heart flutters in your chest at his words. You put on the helmet and then you get on behind him. He instructs you to hold onto him tightly, which you do. Slowly, he begins to take off. The air on your body feels divine as he picks up more speed.

On the highway, you begin to feel even more liberated. This was the first time you were on a motorcycle. This is the first time you even do anything remotely close to this. With excitement, you let out a squeal of happiness. Toshi looks back at you and he can see how happy you are.

“Put your hands up, I’ll go slow.” He instructs.

Though you’re nervous, you go ahead and do as he says. You put your hands up and Toshi takes more controlled movements as the bike moves down the road. You feel like a bird in flight; completely free and in your own element. Soon, you wrap your arms around Toshinori once more and he speeds up. You feel like your life has just begun today. It’s the first time that you are who you want to be.

Once you two approach the town, he slows down and parks at the viewpoint. The two of you look down at the town and just bask in the beauty of this scenic place. It’s gorgeous and you can’t wait to go visit and see everything that’s in store.

Slowly, you two make your way into town. Toshinori finds a garage to park his bike and he pays for the place handsomely. You like that he doesn’t often flaunt his wealth, but that he enjoys spending money when he can. You notice the way he tips the garage workers too and chats with them for a few minutes.

Then he’s taking your hand in his and guiding you down the street. The town is charming and cute. Local businesses line the street. The scent of fresh baked bread permeates the air and people walk around smiling and waving at one another. You wonder what it means to be in a community where people seem to be comfortable with each other.

The first place Toshinori guides you into is a cute cafe. The smell of coffee and bread is strong here. You walk up to the counter and look up at the menu. Toshinori leans in to whisper in your ear.

“Order anything you want, kitten. It’s my treat.”

You smile and begin to look at the selection of baked goods on the display rack. Everything looks so good. Chocolate chip muffins with crystals of sugar, oatmeal cookies with dark raisins dotting them, buttery croissants that are calling your name, almandines that seem to be just wanting to be devoured. You pick a few things, considering you just can’t pick one and an americano to drink. 

Toshinori guides you to a table that faces a window. The sun is shining beautifully. With the light illuminating you, he thinks you look just like an angel. The two of you dig into your breakfast, chatting a little bit and breaking the ice between one another even more.

“Have you ever been on a date, kitten?”

You blush and take a sip of your coffee. “Well, I’ve never actually been asked on a date. My father often organizes dates with his ‘supposed’ suitors for me.”

A look of disgust and jealousy flashes over his features. “None of them could treat you to something as precious as this,”

You giggle. “No, of course not. You’ve made me feel more alive than anyone ever has.”

This makes his heart clench. You were just like a caged bird. He hates the thought of you never being able to make your own choices or you never getting to pick what you think is right for you. No matter what happens next, Toshinori swears he’s going to treat you correctly and always let you have a choice in the matter.

-ˏˋ♥̩͙♥̩̩̥͙♥̩̥̩ ⑅⑅ ♥̩̥̩♥̩̩̥͙♥̩͙ˊˎ

Your day is filled with checking out all the little boutiques in town. Toshinori surprises you with his vast knowledge of history, mechanical jargon and of course, his charm. He’s charming to everyone. He helps keep the door open for the little old ladies who come into the cafe after you both leave. He grabs something off the top shelf for a little kid. And he’s so sweet to everyone you see on the street.

Every single boutique has something that brings you both together and you get to show each other your interests and likes. Toshinori spends lots of time listening to you and understanding what’s going on with you. He looks you in the eyes when you speak. His stare is very intense, but it makes you feel good to know that he’s truly listening. He’s very much into touching you as well; a hand on the small of your back, his fingers soothing over your own before intertwining them, gently nudging you to show you something interesting.

By the time the sun is setting in the sky, Toshinori grabs a few things from the saddlebag and then he guides you to a beautiful public garden. You can tell this must be a very popular place for lovers as there are many couples walking hand in hand as they appreciate the sunset.

He guides you somewhere a little more secluded from the rest. He lays the blanket down on the ground and shows you the picnic basket. As the two of you feed each other fancy cheeses, cold meats from Europe and sip on champagne, you and Toshinori get to know each other even more. Though you two come from different worlds, you feel like you’re each other’s true soulmate.

The sun sets completely and you two are the only two in the park. Toshinori pulls you closer and he cups your cheeks. He looks deeply in your eyes and kisses you softly.

“Today has reminded me that there is still so much good in this world,” he whispers against your lips.

“And I was reminded that there are things in this world outside my bedroom walls,” you say.

He holds you close to him, and you hear him humming something sweetly. He rubs your back, keeping you close. You can hear his heartbeat and it soothes you like nothing else has or ever will. Then he kisses you again; this time his kiss is more hungry and more passionate.

You cling to his shirt as he slides his tongue into your mouth. Immediately your body feels warm and need pools inside of you. You try not to make it too apparent, but with all the cuddling and kissing you’ve been doing, you’ve certainly grown aroused. You’re a virgin, but you know what sex is.

Toshinori pushes you down onto the blanket, hovering on top of you. He smirks when he sees how red your cheeks are and how your pupils are blown wide open. He can read you like a book, knowing just what to do to make you feel even more needy for him.

He leans in to kiss your neck, holding you close to himself. The more he nips at the sensitive skin, the more you begin to spread your legs to allow him to slot himself between them more properly. He helps you get into a comfortable position before he begins to unbutton your sweater. Then he pulls it off slowly, pushing your t-shirt up over your breasts.

“Oh,” he says with a smirk. “Look at your beautiful tits, kitten.”

He nips and bites at the swell of your breasts as they spill out from the top of your bra. You whine so sweetly, it makes his cock throb in his pants. He knows he needs to take it slowly, but dammit you’re so fucking beautiful. What shakes him from his thoughts is when you reach down to begin palming him through his jeans. 

Toshinori grunts. “Kitten,” 

“You like that? I know I’m not very experienced but—”

He cuts you off with another kiss. This is very hungry and sloppy. His tongue glides against yours, wrestling and tangling. When you pull away, there’s a string of saliva keeping you both connected. Toshinori helps you out of your pants and pushes your panties down. You feel self-conscious and try to hide your body.

“No, no no…” He kisses you tenderly. “Doll, please don’t hide from me.”

He gently pulls your hands from your body and his eyes widen. He bites his lip seductively, grunting at how gorgeous you are. He begins to take off his clothes. When the shirt comes off, you get a better look at his tattoos. Your hands soothe over them, looking at the many patterns. On his arms and going down his back are some flowers, waves and many black geometric shapes that arrange in a specific pattern.

“You like ‘em?” he asks.

You nod. “They are beautiful!”

The smile that spreads on his face is genuine. Nobody has ever called his tattoos beautiful before. They were a symbol of who he was; part of the mafia, part of a dangerous family. The fact that you love them so much makes him feel like a million dollars…no, it makes him feel like a human capable of love and being loved.

He captures your lips in another kiss before he kisses down your body. You let out cute little moans as his tongue swirls over one nipple, then the other. He suckles on the little nub as his large hand slips between your thighs. You eagerly allow him access to your core. You’re already dripping wet from almost nothing.

“Pretty kitten,” he murmurs against your breasts.

Slowly, he pushes one of his fingers into your pussy. It opens up for him, sucking the digit in. He continues his assault on your nipples as he works you towards your first orgasm. With your toes curled in your shoes and your back arching off the picnic blanket, you come undone so beautifully in front of his eyes.

Toshinori works you towards a few more orgasms before he pulls away completely. Then he pulls his pants down and his boxers. His cock sits heavily on your mound as he kisses you deeply. You feel him using the tip of his cock to spread your slick all over your folds and clit. Then with gentleness, he pushes into you.

You gasp and cling to him as he begins sliding even more of himself into you. You can’t believe this is how good it feels. You feel full but so good. Then when he bottoms out, you two look into each other’s eyes. He smiles softly.

“You’re my woman now,”

The words float through your mind as he begins to pump his hips. He’s eager but he continues to keep things slow for you. It’s only when you wrap your legs around him and beg him to go faster, deeper, that he begins to pound into you. Soon, you’re feeling the familiar coil in your belly.

“Toshinori,” you whine so softly. “I’m gonna cum again.”

With a soft cry and your nails digging into his back, you fall off the edge blissfully. Toshinori is not far behind you, spilling into you with a grunt of your name and his hips snapping violently.

He pulls out of you, pulling you to his chest. Toshinori presses kisses all over your face before he captures your lips with his own. It’s a silent promise that he will continue to love you for as long as you’ll have him.

-ˏˋ♥̩͙♥̩̩̥͙♥̩̥̩ ⑅⑅ ♥̩̥̩♥̩̩̥͙♥̩͙ˊˎ

You two return late at night, high on the feelings of a new blissful love. Toshinori spends the entire weekend with you, making love and finding out new things about one another. It couldn’t get any better than this. It’s so perfect and though you know it’ll end, things will continue to get better now that you have Toshinori in your life.

By the time Sunday night rolls around, you feel sad and empty inside. Toshinori holds you and tries his best to calm you and comfort you. You cling to him a little harder as he pumps himself into you harder and deeper. Your kisses are needier, and they are begging him ‘don’t leave me’. He cums deep inside of you once more, holding you so close.

“I won’t leave you,” he whispers as you rest on his chest.

“I’m so scared to wake up tomorrow and you won’t be here and none of this happened.”

Toshinori grabs a marker from your bedside table. He gets you to rest on his chest once more than he begins to draw something on your shoulder. When you look into the mirror, you see that he drew a series of little hearts surrounding a big heart that has his name in it.

“That’s my promise to you that you won’t be forgotten. And when we meet up again, which will be soon, I’ll have something even better than just a drawing.”

He kisses you again and lulls you to sleep. Though he knows he’d do anything for you, he’s wracking his brain to figure out how he’s going to approach your father with this. Though Toshinori knows he could just steal you away and there wasn’t much your father could do, he wants to do this right.

You’re the first person in a long time who’s shown him that he can be someone worthy of love. You’re the first person who sees him for who he actually is and not just this caricature of himself. You see him, see deep into his heart, and you love him for everything. The good, the bad, the ugly…in your eyes, it’s all worthy of love.

You sleep less than peacefully and when you wake up, you are alone. You know it’s to be safe for now, but you really hate it. You want him to be right next to you. With a lack of confidence, you get ready for the day and to greet your own father. You find the note on your vanity table.

Don’t worry, kitten. I’ll see you really soon. You are my woman now and that’s for life.

Xxx

T

Ps. keep your balcony door open and that gives me access to your room at night.

Once you’re dressed and have the letter properly hidden, you make your way down the stairs. You hear voices coming from the dining room. You shyly make your way over and see your father talking to a woman, a man and a younger man that seems to be your age. Your father smiles happily when he sees you.

“There you are, dear. Come have brunch with us.”

On the table is a spread of baked goods, eggs cooked in various ways, fancy spreads for bread and flutes of mimosas. You shyly sit next to your father. He introduces you to the family who sits across from you. The young man smiles at you, but it just doesn’t feel genuine. It’s not like Toshinori’s smile at all.

“Dear, I’m happy you’re here to meet the family.”

You look curiously at your father. He then explains how the young man was your betrothed. As much as you try not to let the shock show on your face, everyone is asking you if you’re okay. You nod and choke back some tears, taking a sip of the mimosa.

“I’ve been good friends with them for a long time and their son is the perfect age. You two used to be friends when you were children.” Your father explains.

“Yes, father. I understand.”

As the brunch comes to a close, the young man who’s now supposed to be your fiance kisses your hand. Your stomach is in knots as you try to play nice with him. And for the rest of the day, this eats at you even though you work through making sure you don’t seem suspicious.

That night, Toshinori returns to your room. He’s quieter this time, and immediately picks up on your bad mood. He tries to hold you, but you push him off of you.

“It’s over,” you spit at him.

He shakes his head. “Nonsense, doll. You’re my woman now, how many times do I have to tell you?”

You look at him with tears in your eyes. “My dad’s marrying me off to some rich kid.”

This hits Toshinori right in the heart. He was wealthy too. Sure, he wasn’t from the best family, but they still managed to gain respect with everyone around them…except from your father.

“And you’re just going to let him do it?” He demands to know.

“What else can I do? I can’t just tell him…”

“Tell him what?! That you’re mine now? I can provide for you. I make you happy. You make me happy!”

Your heart is breaking as you look at the man you adore. The man who you’d much rather fall even deeper in love with. With a tissue, you dry off your tears.

“I can’t do anything about it. When he makes a decision, it’s set in stone.”

Toshinori can’t believe he’s hearing this. He thought he was able to get you to come out of your shell and make you see that you could make decisions for yourself. You deserve that much, considering you’ve been a caged bird your entire life.

“If that’s how you see it, then you don’t need me anymore.”

His words cut deep and you turn to try and apologize, but he’s already leaving your room. You cry out for him, and this is what alerts your father to what’s going on. He comes barging into your room, grabbing onto you.

“I don’t ever want to see you with that man again, do you understand me?!”

With a broken heart, you sit on your bed and watch as your father puts deadbolts on your balcony door. Once again, a bird in her cage. A bird with her wings clipped…

reblogs and comments always appreciated!

©actuallysaiyan 2025– do not repost on other platforms, copy, translate or edit my works!

[fishandshesmygills]

i think im honestly doing a good job locking in this finals season bc it's the first finals season i havent had a crush on anybody

[the-acid-pear]

I wish Everett had such a strong line as "we'll make it fit" or "joe remembered" or even "not like that" but bro just died a, fairly normal death brought down on him by his kind soul. Which is arguably sadder but less impactful.

[godjo]

✮ — warrior’s executioner. 

you’re an earthquake that rocks his steady rhythm. 

tags — zoro x afab!reader. 1.3k wc. soft -> rough, like really, dappled with a lot of prose (i hope they make sense tbh). huge cock!zoro. creampie. a LOT of cum, sue me. cervix fucking. very explicit smut. minors, blank, and ageless blogs dni.

from hunter — i… don’t know. i felt so, so, soft for zoro in this fine afternoon. this fic made me vulnerable lmao. this is hardly proofread btw. ✮

imbued with an ache for glory since the sprout of his childhood, the way of the warrior lives in zoro’s skin and bones like a malignant disease of no existing palliative. he inhales the roughened edges of a samurai’s principle like air his lungs need to survive. these beliefs are claws of death that have grazed him one too many times, yet he wears the thousand cuts with pride. 

they whisper about him across the four seas: the devil wearing a human’s flesh, they say, siphoning his unyielding strength from the depths of hell. enemies see his swords like the embodiment of death, the extended hands of sharp torment, while allies revere his strength. 

his hands are tainted with blood from hard won victories. and zoro has never even thought of cleaning the proof of endless wars snaking along the lines of his palms until he’s met you. 

“are you sure you want this?” zoro asks for what seems like the third time, and for each you answer him with a feathery chuckle. “i don’t want to hurt you.” 

“you won’t hurt me, zoro.” there’s a spark of assurance in your eyes, fueled by conviction that it would take more than his tenacity to inflict pain upon you. 

zoro admires you for it; he desires you for that inelastic poise. and so he moistens his lips, guiding the raw end of his cock through your supple pussy lips. he’s been leaking like crazy, transparent lines of precum smeared all over your bare stomach where his rigid cock had been resting.

he palms his girth as if to soothe the stiffness; he’s unimaginably hard, pulsing with fierce vivacity. tremors rack zoro’s body, not on the account of anxiety, such is a distant feeling, but because of how much he wants to shove his thick cock right into your pussy, fuck you until your insides crumble.

“spread your legs wider for me,” he whispers, breath catching up in his throat when he feels the wet caress of your slabbering cunt around his flushed cocktip. 

you share a shuddering breath when he sheathes himself to the hilt, closing his good eye in concentration, in savoring the gummy embrace of your pussy around his twitching shaft. all the might and the brawn he’s built for years now melts into a thick puddle underneath his wavering feet. 

you’re an earthquake that rocks his steady rhythm. 

hovering above you, cautious as to not crush your ribcage with the weight of his immeasurable desire and wanton lust, zoro moves with calculated tempo. he pitches his head right below your chin, staggering breath fanning the crater between your collarbones. seconds— a dribble of a moment within which he loses his composure— that’s all it has taken for his gruff hand to cage the tender flesh of your waist and pull you with snapping vitality, therefore burying his hungry cock further in your insides. 

with an obscene yelp, you toss your head back. your weakened frame finds its leverage on zoro’s broad shoulders, leaving wild stripes of crimson on his golden skin with your nails. you can feel the ridges of his girth, the angry veins scraping your cunt repeatedly, making the little wet hole swell. 

“i’m sorry,” zoro confesses softly against your heated cheeks. “did i hurt you?”

you wish you can pour your heart out and say no, he’s not hurting you and he never will. tears grace the corner of your eyes, from the fluttering emotions hugging your belly, and you can only shake your head. at last, your hands find the curve of his flushed cheeks. he looks feverish, pushed into perpetual agony and terror of breaking you. like you’ve never done before, you tug him by the face and seal his lips with a kiss that quickly forms a whorl of saliva inside your mouths. you never let him go. 

zoro’s heart will burst, he swears it will. the unspoken consent triggers his primal need, the animalistic urge of wanting to prove how you drive him to the edge of insanity.

he pounds your pussy like a mad man freed from restraints. he folds your knees to fuck you properly while watching your cunt swallow his needy cock to the base. there are strings of transparent liquid connecting your pussy to his shaft, augmenting the smacking sound whenever he brings his weight down your soiled cervix. hungrily, repeatedly, mercilessly. 

“z… zoro!” your unabating and quivered chant injected with pleasure. “more… i need you— want you.”

need. 

his eye dilates as the word flows inside his system. he slides his upper body down to meet yours, a breathless yet fervent chuckle rising from his throat. zoro has been maiming your cervix with his insatiable cock for what seems like forever now. he’s been fucking you so maniacally that his bladder shudders and your pussy has turned a damped mess under his vigorous thrusts. all this is accompanied with brutal strength. 

instead of cowering away, you tell him to sink in you deeper. 

you, who emit the air of lavender blossoms and speak with honey in your mouth. you, whose featherlight touch whispers life into every withered thing. you, who keep a universe of all things soft and kind and gentle locked inside your velvet chest. 

“you’re perfect,” zoro murmurs against your mouth, pinning his cock one more time to your slabbering cunt. “and you’re mine.”

your belly heats up from the fervid claim. rapture, its pleasurable hand reaching for you, as zoro’s movements become deliberately slow. his spine moves like waves, the roll of his hips jittery yet deep. you feel it all at once when he pops your hardened nipple in his mouth. zoro suckles, salivating around the areola while maintaining his slow pace.

the heat picks up its intensity, along with the furiously lewd moan gaining strength and fleeing your lips. caged in a bubble of sensitivity that will burst at the seams with an airy touch, you clamp a hand over your mouth but zoro takes your wrist to pin beside your head. his final savage thrust sends rolling waves of euphoria squeezing your chest until the only way you can breathe again is to shout his name with a piece of your soul attached in it. 

zoro tattoos your expression in a huge part of his memory; the narrow of your brows, how your pretty lips shape his name, and the tears of release like silver satin adorning your eyes. with that image he buries his cock between your velvety walls, down and down until his cocktip meets your cervix again, and there— bouts of thick cum burst in your uterus. 

he screams your name, placing his life and his love between its syllables. you touch his face, soothing his shivers, but he just won’t stop filling your womb with fresh and viscid cum like he’s not busted a fat nut in a hundred years. zoro’s eye teared up at the sensation. 

“i… i can’t stop. fuck— it’s seeping. fuck, fuck—”

you lock your legs around his hips. “let it all out.”

zoro admits defeat and collapses on top of you. his cock continues to plug your pussy with blobs of cum. he withers beside you, then, and finally pulls out achingly. even without the grip of your cunt his swollen tip lazily oozes all over the sheets. 

“how are you feeling?” he tucks you in, securing your body with the warmth of his. 

“definitely sore,” you breathe, tracing the mark of stitches on his chest with a delicate finger. “but happy. how about you?”

he ponders at the question. how does he feel, truly? once, he wondered if his tenacity is just another word for wickedness and if shedding blood is the only purpose his unmatched strength serves. he pondered about the hunger he’s shackled in his core and whether it could only be satiated as he felled each enemy with a sword. 

zoro fears that he’ll never learn how to hold you close to his heart without tarnishing the perpetual twinkle of light in your luminescent eyes. but then he kisses you, and you do not flinch from its violence. 

zoro has found the answer, then. 

how could he ever hurt you when you make him tender?

how could he ever hurt you when you turn him to pieces?

[letternotekisses]

Hey, so I see you write for my husband Mauga a lot, and you did something for hazard…

I literally CANNOT STOP thinking about being sandwiched between them. Just crushed in those tits. The threesome that would LITERALLY break the bed

ohhh anon, your beautiful, beautiful little noggin!! this was a bit rushed but omg such a hot idea💞

Being in a relationship with both Mauga and Hazard would be the threesome that breaks EVERYTHING, let alone the bloody bed! Even just while messing around, jokingly wrestling each other over who gets to go first has the sofa legs creaking in agony. Hazard is admittedly a little more considerate of the furniture, but Mauga takes it as a challenge to bend you over every single surface until he can get it (or you) to break.

Also, the amount of food those two eat, you’ll be cooking seconds and thirds and freezing the fourths in case they get peckish again later. No need to make dessert, though, when they’re both looking at you over the kitchen island with heated gazes that tell you just what they have in mind for pudding. (Spoiler alert: it’s you.)

Not only are their appetites large, their libidos are just as insatiable. Both of them typically catch you off guard, sharp grins splitting their faces and bearing their pointy canines until your back is met with a wall of solid muscle, smushed comfortably between their humongous badonkadonks until you’re dragging them both into the shower with flustered grumbles. Works every time.

(A lot of your trysts happen in the shower, as those two fuckers know how to make a mess.)

You’re often on your knees, their huge, hulking bodies blocking the light and most of the hot water. Heavy cocks resting over your face as you tentatively stroke one and lathe your tongue leisurely over the other, their breathing loud and hungry, chests heaving hedonistically as Mauga cups your head to coo down at you, guiding your movements. Hazard’s hair is slicked down by the water, giving him a deliciously disheveled look as your fingers struggle to connect around the girth of his meaty cock.

If not that, then you’re hoisted up by their conjoined strength and stuffed to the absolute brim. One on either side with their cocks bullied deep inside your soft, inviting holes, their movements so perfect in tandem that it has you drooling against one of their chests, all fucked out. And yes, both of them whisper sweet nothings into your skin, growling and grunting about how they’re going to breed you so fucking full.

Life with them is just as sexy as it is fucking expensive. 💞

[pretty-little-mind33]

Dave Lizewski x fem!reader

Summary: Being partners with Kick-Ass is far more intimidating when you have a huge crush on him, especially when he won't stop talking about his crush.

Prompt: hurt and comfort - "I'm so sick of pretending like everything is okay."

here you go, my darling @lavieenvalentina! ily! seeing you in my notifs always makes me so happy!

DAVE LIZEWSKI MASTERLIST

BLURB MASTERLIST

The night is humid and hot and nothing seems to be going your way. 

First, your costume had shrunk in the laundry making the middle feel three sizes too small. Second, it had been drizzling outside and now your hair is frizzy, and third—your partner, Kick-Ass, has been going on and on about this girl Katie from his high school. 

You know Katie. You've deduced you go to the same school. She's all sugary sweet on the outside, but she's been casually teasing you since middle school, which is something you can't exactly tell him considering your identity must remain a secret. 

It doesn't help that you don't know who Kick-Ass is either. Hell, he could be one of the stupid popular jocks for all you know and then you'd so feel silly.

"And her hair is so silky and smooth, I wonder how she—" Kick-Ass continues as you walk, grinning like an idiot. You don't know how much longer you can take this agony, but you try and listen to him anyway.

"You okay?" he asks after more rambling because he can now sense you aren't listening. 

You pause, stopping at a crossroads and then you turn to him. "I should go home, there isn't any crime happening," you say, needing some time alone and away from him. 

"Did I say something wrong?" he asks, his voice low and hoarse. It's the tone that makes your cheeks feel warm and your heart flutters uncontrollably. Behind his mask, his bright blue eyes shine and he's looking at you like some poor puppy who can't understand why his owner won't give him a bone. 

"Don't look at me like that," you say, taking his arm and pulling him into a small alley. 

"Like what?" he sounds genuinely confused as he leans against the brick wall. 

"Like a damn wounded puppy!" you exclaim, throwing up your arms in exasperation, "As if I've kicked you or something stupid. Why do you always have to act like the one who's hurt when all you do is hurt me?!"

The words tumble from your lips.

"I hurt you?" he whispers, his concerned expression obvious even with almost his entire face covered. "How? I thought we were friends. You're the best damn friend I've ever had."

"You don't know me," you interrupt him and fiddle with the latex of your glove, "not really." 

"Well, I could know you," Kick-Ass says, sounding very determined. "You're the one who doesn't want to know me. I've told you a thousand times you can trust me. I've even told you my name."

Your eyes widen at this revelation. "What? When?"

"The first week we met, you never told me yours but whatever," he shakes his head and then outstretches his hand, "Here, I don't mind. I trust you. My name is Dave," he says casually.

You suddenly click all the pieces in your head and your smile drops.

"Dave Lizewski?" you whisper, suddenly recognizing his voice. Of course, how could you not have recognized him? You sit next to Dave in Pre-Calculus every single day. Dave hangs around with Katie all the time. You look him up and down.

His eyebrows crease. "How did you know that?" he asks suspiciously.

You think, screw this, and untie your mask from behind your head, letting it drop into your hands. You look up, almost afraid of his reaction.

Dave's eyes widen and he stutters out your name, the syllables stuck in his throat as he processes that it's you.

He didn't consider you a friend at school, but you always helped him in Pre-Calculus when you could so he liked you. Plus, you're gorgeous and he can't deny that before Katie Deauxma, he'd thought of you in inappropriate ways—sometimes he still does.

His cheeks burn bright red. 

"It's you," is all he can muster.

You shrug and look away from him. "This is so stupid," you say and then turn to him again, "We're so stupid for not knowing. I mean, we talk all the time."

Dave pulls off his mask. Luckily no one is walking around this dinghy alley to see you both. Your breath catches in your throat at seeing Dave, his hair messy and stuck to his skin, his glasses abandoned and dressed in his Kick-Ass suit. 

You start to laugh. You aren't laughing at him but at this absurd situation. 

Dave doesn't take it like that and he scrunches up his nose. "Are you laughing at me?"

You shake your head and look at him seriously. "No, I'm laughing because if I had known waking up today that the boy I have a crush on was none other than Dave Lizewski from Pre-Calculus—I think I would have pinched myself."

Your words sink and Dave's eyes widen until he looks almost scared. "What?"

"You know Katie thinks you're gay. That's the only reason she's your friend," you interrupt. You feel the need to tell him, like jealousy and pure venom is slipping from your mouth. Is it mean? A little, but you think it's time someone should burst his bubble.

Dave frowns, your previous statement slipping his mind momentarily. "I know that," he tells you, defensive. 

"Then why on earth do you have to go on and on about her all the time?"

"Sorry, I didn't realize I was inconveniencing you, Y/n," he snaps without hesitation, crossing his arms.

"Well, you are," you snap back, glaring at him and looking at him like this, knowing who he is, makes this a thousand times harder.

If Kick-Ass did turn out to be a stupid, meat-head, jock then this would be so much easier. Only he isn't. He's Dave Lizewski  and Dave is sweet and he's funny and he's brave and—

"I'm so sick of pretending like everything is okay," you blurt out and bury your face in your hands. 

Dave is quiet for a moment until he walks closer and pulls your hands down so he can look at you. "Okay, listen, can we please rewind for a second?" he asks, "y-you said you have a crush on me."

You shake your head and warmth spreads across your cheeks. 

"You did," Dave insists. 

"Doesn't matter, it's stupid."

"It does matter," he says and his hands cup your cheeks, hair falling and tickling his wrists as his mask hangs from his hand. "It matters because you're lovely and kind and I really like you." 

"Not the way I like you," you counter, "you like Katie Deauxma." 

Dave winces and he can't argue. His feelings don't just magically disappear, although he can admit that for some reason—after seeing you in this light—something inside him shifted. Something he can't explain right now.

"Y/n, you don't know me either," he tells you honestly, "you may know Kick-Ass a little, and you may like him, but you don't like Dave."

Not yet, you want to finish but you don't. You keep your mouth shut. He has a point.

"Just don't talk about her anymore, will you?"

Dave smiles a little, nodding his head. "Okay. Promise," he looks into your eyes, his gaze flickering to your lips. 

He has a really strong feeling he won't need to talk about Katie anymore. 

tags: @earth-elemental18

[microwaving-tesilid-argente]

...may i interest you guys in the idea of vatican trio ot3

vatican trio angst is the two of them being the same cheery goofy guys round after round after round while tesilid increasingly becomes gloomy and suicidal, weighed down by the experience of dozens of deaths that no doubt include theirs.

hestio & ephael see tesilid come home from greenwalle one day and no longer really recognise this guy anymore, what on earth happened to him? knowing him well enough that they can immediately tell that this taciturn guy is acting off, but not having any way of knowing what he went through because it all happened in a timeline you have no access to.

you're the same cheerful guys as you have always been, and the childhood friend you've stuck to since the three of you were 10 is suddenly out of reach.

he's always been standoffish but now feels different. you have no way of knowing. and he can't talk.

[yurozo]

resident evil (university au headcanons)

a/n: this is purely based on the beginning of my last year :( feeling bittersweet

chris redfield: a third year sports medicine/kinesiology student. if you're looking for someone who almost always has a water bottle full of creatine in his bag, chris is your guy. he's never the type to dress up, especially because he insists on 8am lectures to 'increase his productivity', so he's usually in sweatpants and under armour compression shirts. he joined the rock climbing club at claire's insistence of getting involved around school, but is unfortunately still getting the hang of it. it's hard to lift all that bodyweight, so the majority of the time he just hangs there. has very little social life. he'll go to a party, drink a single beer, then leave. turns women down because it would mess with his schedule. he's paying a lot of money to be there, and save for a bit of attitude towards his professors, he takes his studies seriously. diet-wise, this man preps like a mfer. protein peanut butter shake at 7.30 am no exceptions, within a 20min time limit of his workout. the dorm fridge has an ungodly amount of boiled eggs. toxic trait: does that white man hand raise when he has a question, and usually only thinks about what he's going to say after his hand goes up. jill valentine:

sociology major, criminology minor. has her schedule perfectly planned out so nothing is before 10am. she can and will ignore chris' pleas to meet her on campus beforehand, usually preferring to go for a coffee before a lecture. is never seen without some source of caffeine in her hand. jill isn't a huge fan of sociological theories, instead choosing to focus on the statistics aspect of it.

her dorm room is an absolute nightmare. there is not a single space on her floor that is not covered in clothes, but has no shame in bringing people over despite this. she'll just kind of awkwardly shuffle them away with her foot to make a pathway.

isn't part of any clubs, mostly because she can't be fucked for that kind of socialization. people always hit on her during class anyways, so it's not like she's hurting for company. she usually hangs out with chris or claire on campus, goading chris into doing something with her or letting claire drag her along into studying. toxic trait: has a windowsill full of empty monster energy drinks. leon kennedy:

a math major, criminology minor. has absolutely handed in multiple sheets of homework with tear stains in the corners. for how nonchalant he seems to be on the outside, he really does take his studies seriously, and always shoots for a perfect gpa. he's primarily seen haunting the third floor library, always looking like he's in a perpetual state of agony.

despite all the silent attention he gets from people during lectures, he does not entertain it whatsoever. the man is there to learn. he has one class with jill where they sit in complete silence together save for a couple of witty jokes at the professor (or other students) expense. the professor both loves and hates him. he's a frequent visitor of office hours, but his assignment is always printed and crushed in his fist. he's had a few short-term girlfriends in university, but nothing long-term. he firmly believes that he has rizz, but he does not. most people just let it slide because he has that attractive weird aura around him. toxic trait: unironically shushes people during a lecture. claire redfield: engineering major, communication minor. another person who takes her studies fairly seriously. the fortunate thing about claire is that she doesn't particularly have to try, the good grades just descend on her from the heavens. it makes chris furious. however like jill, she is not a fan of mornings and is usually seen frowning angrily at the board.

has a friend with a house off campus to store her bike so she can fix it up on her days off, using her engineering notes of course. she's part of a few clubs, but isn't fond of being part of leadership or anything. claire goes purely for the vibes.

goes on a couple strings of dates with guys, but always refuses to go out with people from her classes. she's seen it crash and burn so many times that she's not doing herself. will, however, recommend other people to her brother. toxic trait: pulls up to campus at 9am with the loudest motorcycle engine known to man, and always slams her helmet down on her desk when she sits down.

[illshakeyouallnightlong-dean]

Take Me To The Sun (Pt. 2)

Part 2 is here! :) Here you can read part 1.

Just a little angst before we get to the good stuff.

It’s been 10 days. 10 days of agony, of turmoil and regret and anger - so much anger. I’m the only third year left. I’m expected to carry on my co-section leader responsibilities as if the absence of Garrick is a minor inconvenience. The early sun rises with a flourish of pinks, reds and oranges and all I can do is relish in this fleeting moment of peace. 

No one seems to care or notice that they aren’t back yet. I can’t help but seek comfort from Rathnait, my only anchor since the moment we left Basgiath. A warmth of what I could only describe as security floods down the bond. 

We can’t worry about things that haven’t been confirmed yet, flare. She knows my true questions, the things that I can’t bring myself to ask or think about. You must think about today, where we will go. Graduation day. I would be assigned to my outpost today, and by this evening I would be gone, my journey at Bagaith over. Turning away from the river, I make my way towards the flight field. The few third years left of this school congregate, awaiting as Colonel Aetos and Commandant Pancheck begin the assignments. 

“Congrats on graduating, Section Leader. It is a shame that Wingleader Riorson and Section Leader Tavis aren’t here to accompany you.” Colonel Aetos nearly sneers at the mention of Xaden. The obvious disdain is unsettling as he rifles through different papers. “Ah yes, your assignment. Due to your signet and the savagery of your red swordtail - you’re being assigned to the eastern wing…specifically, Samara.” He grins at me, almost maniacally as if the post is a joke. Rathanit snarls in my mind, rage igniting the very blood in my veins but all I can do is take the papers from his hand, saluting in acknowledgement. 

Where are you, Ray? My hands tremble, crushing the papers beneath my hold as I make my way quickly towards my room. 

I’ll be there soon, flare. Unless you need me now? 

I halt in the middle of the empty hall, knowing in a matter of moments the rest of the cadets will be awake to get into formation. Pressing the heels of my hand into my eyes, I can’t help but rest my back against the cool stone. 

Samara is the front line. Trying to get the ever rising beat of my heart under control, I must not panic. I am a rider. 

Are you afraid, flare? I shudder at her question, not wanting to admit the fear, the panic. But I know that she can feel everything, hear all that I think. 

They aren’t here. He isn’t here. A whimper escapes my lips, the reality of it all just crashing down like rubble. I will be going to Samara, there is no avoiding it, there is no changing it. While I had spent years trying to survive Basgaith, I would be sent to one of the most active posts in the region. I wouldn’t see Garrick. 

“Section Leader? Ar-are you ok?” Dain Aetos stands before me, hands out as if approaching a scared animal. “We need to get to formation,” I don't hate the kid, knowing that following the straight and narrow path is the life that is meant for some people over others. However, that doesn’t mean I want him to see me having a mental breakdown. Giving him a small nod, I manage to get myself to stand before fully looking at the Squad Leader. Something’s wrong. My own senses are beginning to go haywire. My signet. Only Xaden and Garrick knew. Command and Bagaith are under a different impression as to what it is. The manipulation and detection of emotions however was a daily venture, there was no turning it off, there was only controlling it and questing it and right now Dain Aetos was a mess. 

“I would ask you the same thing, what’s wrong?” I question him, dusting off my flight leathers. I don’t miss the way he flinches at my question, his hesitancy. “Do I have to give an order to know?” 

Taking a deep breath, he stands tall despite the sorrow in his eyes, “Xaden and the rest of the squad he took with him are being declared dead at formation.” I startle myself at the immediate sob that escapes my lips. “Leadership has been looking and there is no sign of them.” Feeling the agony of his own loss, it feels as if a tidal wave has pulled me under. The roaring from Rathnait in my brain feels as if it will explode any second. Dain’s grief, his regret all barrel into me with no filter, no shield. Rathanit’s confusion and rage down the bond. My own sorrow, my own heartbreak. There is no stopping it. There just is feeling it. Unaware of the stream of tears that roll down my face, the taste of salt jolts me out of the shock, the horror. 

“Round up everyone, squad leader. I’ll be at formation in a moment,” I murmur, the assignment papers feeling like large weights in my hand. He turns away to head towards the Quadrant, “Dain,” I call out, sounding like a garbled mess. “Thank you for telling me.” His own eyes glisten with unshed tears as he nods. 

My flare. I hear her call out, though to reach out seems like so much energy, all I can do is let her in with no barriers, allowing her to be there in the comfort of my mind. I’m coming, flare. 

Standing at the bottom of the stone dias. Everyone in formation, I don’t bother to look around. There is no one here to look for anymore. There is no Wingleader, there is no co-section leader - there is just me alone at the front. I didn’t bother to look at my squad, not being able to look at their questioning looks. I was known for being put together, not a hair out of place, no rumpled leathers, no dirt unless necessary. I’m sure the current state of me was a shock. Strands of hair fell in front of my face, eyes dry and cheeks raw from the tears. 

Captain Fitzgibbons overlooks formation, reading off the death roll. “Violet Sorrengail.” A moment of silence as all eyes look to the stoic face of General Sorrengail. “Garrick Tavis.” My heart feels as if it bleeds on the very floor I'm standing on, flinching harshly at the reading of his name. “And Xaden Riorson.” Captain Fitzgibbon’s voice rings out echoing around the quadrant. “Well this is awkward,” a voice calls out. Gasps are heard around the quadrant, even command seems unsettled by what’s happening. My knees seem to be locked in place, unable to turn around and see what is going on. My breaths turn into small gasps of air - no no no it can’t be, I’m dreaming. Dain said. I need to wake up. Heavy footsteps approach behind me, and two individuals take up position on either side of me. A calloused hand brushes against my own.

[marvelwitchergilmore]

For A While...

Summary: Spencer Reid x Fe!Reader -> You were first introduced to Spencer through Emily, however, six years later, it seems some things are beginning to change.

Disclaimer: 16+ CM level violence. Descriptions of torture, death and stalking. This is part two. Part one can be accessed here. Fluff towards the end. Pining. Angst (kinda). Not proof read.

Five Months Later…

The last five months had been like agony for Spencer. 

He’s spent the last five months trying his best to figure out his feelings for you until one morning he walked into work, determined to look less like a complete confused mess as he had done for the last several days. 

His tie was still a little crooked, but his hair was neater than when he’d rolled out of bed, and his shirt wasn’t creased. And with a coffee in his hand, he was waking up a little faster than usual. Except, just as he stepped through the doors, he saw you by your desk. 

No-one was in the office yet. You’d been removing your scarf and coat, laying them on the back of your chair when he spotted you and the voice in his head said…

I love you.

He’d shocked himself. 

Of course, he had already known his feelings ran deep for you. But it was the first time the actual words had been spoken out loud, or in the very least, to himself. 

And it had been agony ever since. 

He was pretty sure he managed to hide it, though he doubted that the team didn’t at least have their suspicions. If Emily had figured it out with only a couple of days, the team had seen them both for months. 

However, Spencer was certain of one thing. 

He had it under control. 

Like he had told Emily, he didn’t want to lose you. And if that meant forever being your friend, living with a cage around his heart when he was with you that felt as if it was crushing his soul, he could happily live with that. 

Until, one day, Spencer wondered why he’d built the cage in the first place. Because as much as he was aware of the dangers both of your jobs posed, he never thought he could lose you because of that. 

The team had been flown to Oregon for a case. Four women had been killed in the town, all with a similar look, background and lifestyle. And the further you were looking into the case, it didn’t just seem to be in Oregon. The bodies trailed over the years across the country, and from what you could figure, the first had been in Virginia. 

However, the longer you all worked on the case, the more the nagging feeling in your gut grew. Something felt too familiar about the case. 

“We have to be missing something. We already know this guy stalks his victims, right. He knows what they do for work, he makes sure he knows what they’re doing at all times. He prays for the right moment when they're alone or they’re away from their general routine.” 

“If it was a bigger pattern you could say he’s picking them at random.”

“But I don’t think he is. I mean, look at how each of the victims are described.”

They were described as smart, happy, hard working. If they ever stepped out of their routine, it was because they had to. The first victim drove a little out of town because her usual restaurant she ordered from was shut. The second because she needed cabinet hinges. The third because she needed to stop for gas but there was a diversion on the road, sending her to another. 

The rest of the team continued talking but when Spencer looked over to you, you seemed…off. 

“Hey, I’m gonna go and get some coffee. You guys want some?”

“Sure, that’d be great.”

“Thanks.”

Spencer knew that look on your face a little too well. You needed space. Why, he didn’t know. But he also knew it was better not to follow you. 

Except, he couldn’t help but wish he could turn back the clock and do exactly that. 

An hour later, you still hadn’t returned. 

After twenty five minutes, they figured maybe there was a long cue. After thirty five, they figured maybe they had been changing the coffee filter just as you got there. 

When you didn’t pick up your phone after an hour…they got worried. 

So, sending Derek and Spencer to the coffee shop to try and find you, Hotch, JJ, Rossi and Blake stayed behind in case it was just that they were changing the filter and there was a long cue and your phone had died. 

Except, when Spencer and Derek returned half an hour later having searched up and down the block, in every cafe, coffee shop, convenience store and gas station, they all knew something was wrong. 

“She’s not any of them. The cashier said she hadn’t even come in today.”

“That’s not good.”

From the screen, Garcia popped up. 

“Guys, I’m getting a live feed. You’re gonna want to see this, though…I don’t know if you’ll want to.”

“What is it, Garcia?”

Garcia said nothing, but her face said it all. With a couple of clicks, the feed was up on the full screen and everyone in the police department was watching it. 

“How long have you had this Garcia?”

“The alert came in only a few moments before I called you, but according to the chat room, it’s been prepared for a couple of hours, but went live about forty minutes ago. I think you should also know, I was invited to this.”

“Invited?” JJ asked. 

“Believe me, I’ve had every corner that I know of, being monitored. But apparently this is a new one.”

Everyone looked a little closer to the screen, and eventually it got a little brighter. Most likely from a light on the further wall. 

And everyone’s hearts sank. 

It was you. 

You had a gash on your head, most likely where the unsub had hit you across the head. From the look on your face as you move your body ever so slightly, it wasn’t the only place on you that was wounded. 

The camera angles kept changing, offering a different view of the room, though there wasn’t much to see other than you, beaten and bloodied, zip tied and chained to a bolted down chair. 

Then someone came into shot. 

The unsub. 

He approached you slowly, bringing with him a damp cloth, gently pressing it to your head. 

“It’s okay. Take it easy.”

You forced your eyes open, but when you were met with the reality of who it was, your face turned into shock, fear, disgust and anger. 

You jerked back, unable to move any further than you had tried before. 

“Get the hell off me.”

“It’s okay, don’t be like that.”

The unsub spoke softly to you. 

“Get away from me. Get off me.”

“You don’t have to be like this.”

Then you spotted the camera. 

“You’re filming this?”

“I thought your friends might like to see it. See how safe you are.”

“Safe?!” both yourself and Spencer asked. 

“Garcia, can you get a clear shot of the unsub?”

“No, sir. He hasn’t looked at the camera fully.”

“Then look into Y/l/n’s past. She knows him. Or, he knows her. Maybe they’ve crossed paths somewhere before.”

“Already on it, Sir.”

It would take a little longer for the team to realise your relationship to the unsub. And your connection to the victims. 

“I told you you’re safe with me, you don’t have to worry any more.”

“You kidnap me and tell me not to worry?!”

“I can take care of you.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Why take her though? Why follow her? It’s too risky.”

“Maybe it’s his endgame.” Spencer said out loud, the cogs turning over and over in his head. Then he moved towards the evidence board, rearranging things around where he’d written your name in a bubble. 

He needed to keep moving, proving to himself he was alive. Or else he might break more than he ever had. 

“How would you describe her?”

“Smart.” JJ began, following what Spencer was getting at. 

“Hard working.”

“A stickler for routine. She’s fixed. Doesn’t often change what she likes.”

More comparisons came out and Spencer had proven his point. 

“I’m wondering if he was her first victim. Or if she was his catalyst.”

Everyone turned back to the screen when they heard a loud strike. 

“It WAS me!”

It took you a moment before you rolled your head back up and looked from the camera to him. 

“It never was you, that was the whole point.”

“Only because you couldn’t see what I could offer you.” He pulled a chair harshly in front of you and sat down. The camera still had a clear shot of your face, but just the back of his head. 

“I saw you, a few years ago. Who was he?”

“Who was who?”

“That-that-that guy! The one you think you wanted! The one you thought could offer you everything!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

Another strike across the face. Then he grabbed you. 

“I saw how you looked at him. Like he was the whole world. Your whole world.”

“When even was-”

“Six years ago. I was coming out of a bar. Couple of buddies wanted me to go with them but I knew I had to find you. And I was stupid enough to think you’d be waiting for me. Instead, I found you with him. Standing outside your apartment. I didn’t wait around for the kiss.”

His name slipped from your mouth before you could stop yourself. 

“So, you remember him? You remember him? You remember him…” 

Of course you remember him. How could you not? You worked with him every single day. 

The unsub was growing more emotional. From accusatory to confusion to a sadness of acceptance. 

Then anger. 

“You remember him!? And all he had to do was walk you home?!” The unsub laughed before pausing and kicking the chair over, sending it flying into a wall. 

You jumped at his quickness and the loudness of the noises. 

“Do you know how long I have been trying to get your attention?! How long I have spent trying to show you that you have feelings for me? You might deny it, but we both know it’s true. It has been since we first met. I know you didn’t know, but I saw it in your eyes, in that kindness you showed me when no one else did. You volunteered to be my partner, remember?”

“For the…the forest run?”

“You do remember.”

The unsub got down on his knees in front of you, clutching at your jacket. 

“See, this just proves-”

“I volunteered because Sophia didn’t want to be left alone with you.”

“What?”

“I opted to take her place to make her feel safe.”

As you continued to explain, Hotch and Garcia tracked your phone numbers and social media posts until she found Sophia. 

“So you don’t feel safe with me, but you’ll feel safe with Spencer?”

“Please, don’t bring him into this.”

“Why not?”

The unsub sat back. “Why not? Go ahead, tell me. This wouldn’t happen to be the same Doctor Spencer Reid, would it?”

You tried to deny it, but no words came from your mouth. 

The unsub became deflated. 

“And let me guess, you have feelings for him…you…you even…love him. Why do I not measure up? Because I don’t work for the FBI? Because I’m not a Doctor? What is it that makes  him so much better that he earns your love?”

“Please, just-”

“It should be me! What can he give you that I can’t?”

Then he pushed the hair from your face and held it against your head, forcing you to look at him. 

“I could have given you everything. I still can. Just tell them you’re safe, and I’ll make sure nothing ever happens to you, ever again.”

“Please, don’t-”

He turned to stand behind you, forcing you to look directly into the camera where the team could see the trails left behind through the blood on your cheeks, where your tears had flooded through them. 

“TELL THEM!”

“Garcia, please tell me you have something.”

“Uh, maybe, I-I don’t know. I can’t be certain.”

“I’ll take what I can get, Garcia.”

“Well, I, uh-”

“Now, Garcia.” Spencer called out, his voice oddly even and a little cold. 

“Sophia said his name was Toby-something. But I’ve looked through her files, her socials. There isn’t a single Toby, or Tobias or even Tobe.”

“Can you get a picture of him?”

“I’ve got a few, I’m running them through my database now.”

“What about Emily?” JJ asked. Everyone looked at her. “She grew up with Emily, right? Maybe she’ll know something.”

Spencer was already on the phone. 

“Emily? Emily, listen to me. Was there anyone in Y/n’s past that she had trouble with? An ex boyfriend or something in college?”

“I- Reid, is everything okay?”

“Garcia will catch you up, but please. Was there anyone she talked about? Maybe a Toby-someone?”

Suddenly, Emily’s voice turned cold. “Reid, where is she?”

“Emily?”

“Back when she was in college, she was having trouble with a guy. Everyone called him Toby but his real name Jonathan. Toby was his middle name. He seemed fixated on her and one day, she found him in her apartment on campus. She called me and I got her out. After that, he seemed to disappear, but she always was weary.”

“Okay, send all the details you can to Garcia.”

“Already happening.”

All the team could do was wait and watch, hoping something would jump out at them to help find you. 

“Do you love him?”

“I need to hear it from you. Do you love him?”

He picked up a weapon of some kind. A knife maybe. 

“No, no, I can’t watch!” Garcia called out, turning her chair away. 

A backhanded slap came across your face, the edge of the knife, cutting your cheek. 

“Do. You. Love. Him?” Toby screamed louder. 

Garcia squealed a little, hearing his arm movement. But just when she expected you to scream in pain, anyone who was listening heard what you said next. 

“YES!” you screamed, fear of what was going to come next taking over. Maybe it would have been best to lie. But he wouldn’t have accepted it. And if he was going to kill you…

Toby faltered, looking down at you in heartbroken shock. 

“Yes, yes. I do. I love him. Please…please don’t hurt me…I-”

Toby dropped the knife, the sound clattering on the floor, and he stepped back. Even from behind, they could all see the changes in his body movement. 

From shock, heartbreak, to more shock to…anger. 

And fear flashed across your face. 

“No, no, no. Please. Toby- what-what are you doing?”

He was moving around the room, gathering things. 

“Toby, please. Please don’t-”

Then the screen went dark. 

“Garcia! Please tell me you have something!”

“Almost. Hold on. Wait.”

“We can’t-”

“The footage is still running. There’s no picture or sound, but it’s still running. Maybe if I can just- I’ve got her.”

“Garcia, send us the address.”

“Already done. Please bring her back safe.”

Toby had taken you forty minutes out of town, held up in a small town shed on a small plot of land he’d rented in cash, save for the electric bill that was in his name from a month earlier. Garcia couldn’t trace the address, but she could find the closest cell tower. And with a little cross reference, she found you. 

All the team could do was hope you were still alive by the time they got to you. 

It was agonising to listen to, but your screams let them know you were still alive. And when Morgan kicked down the door, Toby turned around you, holding your body against his front. 

He’d changed you from being tied down in the chair to being strung up by your wrists. By the looks of it, however, you had managed to fight back, presumably in the small window of time you did have. 

“Come any closer and I’ll kill her.”

“No you won’t, Toby.”

“Won’t I?!”

You whimpered a little as the blade pushed further into your skin. 

“You love her, don’t you? Don’t you want to see her happy?”

“She IS happy. She’s happy with me.”

“Really, Toby? Because I wouldn’t say she looks happy. I’d say she looks scared. Terrified, even.”

“No, no, no she’s not.”

“Morgan…”

“She loves me! She has to love me!”

“But she doesn’t. And do you really think this is how she’s going to fall in love with you? By forcing her into it?”

Toby changed. 

“Doctor Reid. Doctor Spencer Reid. This is him, isn’t it? This is the one that took you from me? Maybe once I’m done with you, maybe, maybe he’ll be next.”

“No…”

“Or you can choose me. Choose me and they don’t get hurt. Choose me and-”

You jumped at the sound. 

A gunshot. 

Everything went silent and then the knife clattered to the floor once more, soon followed by Toby’s body. 

For a moment, you heard JJ’s voice coming from Derek’s wire, and then everything came back into a blurry focus. 

“Is it over? Is-is he dead?”

Reid moved closer, checking his pulse before nodding to Morgan. 

“It’s over.”

“Thank god, please get these off me.”

Spencer was closer, taking his pocket knife out before cutting your binds, allowing you to stand fully on the floor once more. 

Your arms wrapped around Spencer both out of necessity, since your legs gave way for a moment, and out of need to hug someone, anyone, who wasn’t Toby. 

In his arms, Spencer could feel your entire body shaking. So he simply held you tighter. 

“Is-is it-are you sure it’s over?”

“It’s over. Let's get you out of here.”

Spencer helped you out of the shed before walking you over to the ambulance that was pulling up behind one of the SUVs. 

“P-please don’t leave me.”

“I’m not going anywhere. I’ve got you.”

And he did. 

Spencer stayed with you as they helped you into the ambulance and drove you to the hospital, he stayed with you as the doctors talked you through where they were taking you and what would happen and he was right there waiting for you, as you had asked, when you got out. 

And when they finally found you a room, he stayed by your side, holding your hand. 

Even hours later, you were still shaking with nerves and adrenaline. 

“Have you called Emily?” you asked after a few hours of silence. 

Spencer nodded. “She knows what happened. She’s also said she’s gonna catch the next flight out once they open the airports in London. Some storms closed the runways.”

You just nodded. 

“Hey Spencer?”

Spencer hummed. 

“I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“For…for what happened. I-I don’t know how much you saw from the footage but Toby…I should have lied. I should have tried to keep your name-”

Spencer shot out of his seat and sat on your bed facing you, slowly taking the hand you used to squeeze your eyes shut from crying, into his. 

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s-”

“It’s okay. All I care about is that you’re safe. Emily…she already knew. She… a couple months ago, she talked to me about it…because she figured that was how I felt about you.”

“Spence, no, you don’t have to-”

“We can talk about it more, when you’re better, but I just…I need you to know, you’re not alone. And I don’t want you to be sorry for what you said. Because, even though I’m sorry for how it had to happen, I’m not sorry about what was said.”

“You…you’re not?”

Spencer shook his head, looking down at your hands in his, his thumb tracing a constant pattern over your knuckles. 

However, the familiar clicking of heels down the hall broke your intimate silence. 

“We’ll talk about it?”

You nodded.

Garcia was calling out your name before she found your room and took a look at you. 

“Oh, thank god.”

“Penelope,” you smiled. 

And Spencer smiled, too. For the first time in the last week, let alone the last twenty four hours, you smiled. Genuinely smiled.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t find you sooner. If I-”

“It’s okay. You still found me. I’m okay.”

“I’m never letting you out of my sight again. And Emily will be here soon so it won’t just be me, you’ll have both of us. Maybe we can live like the Golden Girls.”

You struggled to laugh, but laughed all the same. “I’d like that.”

“Good, because you don’t have a choice.”

“I’ll give you two some space to plan your move,” Spencer smiled. 

You smiled softly back at him as he slowly walked out of the room, but not before Penelope called his name. “Bring her back some jello! Orange, if they have it!”

Spencer nodded, however he didn’t need telling why orange. It was your favourite. 

“How do you know that’s my favourite?”

“Emily told me.”

You smiled. There had been a week back in middle school when all you could stomach was orange jello. You’d have thought that after being sick for a week, you’d never want to eat it again. But that never happened. 

The doctors kept you in hospital for the next couple of days whilst the rest of the team helped finish the last couple of cases at the police department. 

When you were finally cleared to fly, Hotch and Emily were the ones to help you with your things. 

Hotch explained what would happen when you all got back to the Bureau and what would happen with yourself and your job. 

“I know you’ll be itching to get back to work, but I want you to take some time off.”

“I will. I promise.”

By the time you got to the jet, you weren’t up in the air an hour before you excused yourself from Rossi’s story time to sit by the one person who brought you the most peace. 

“Mind if I sit here?”

Spencer smiled and shook his head, making space for you beside him on the sofa. 

“Do you want to sleep?”

“What are you reading?”

He showed you. 

“Wizard of Oz.”

“Want me to read it to you? Studies have shown it helps with sleep.”

“I’d like that.”

Within twenty minutes, you were fast asleep against Spencer’s chest. He’s turned himself so you could lean against him and see the small pictures that had been drawn, as he read. 

And thankfully, Rossi’s stories kept everyone distracted long enough for yourself and Spencer to not experience the embarrassment of getting caught in such a compromising position, considering you were both just meant to be friends.

A week later…

Yourself and Spencer had seen Emily off in the Airport, and after that, Spencer had driven you home. You’d stopped off for some chinese food on the way back, and even though you’d both had…half conversations about what you’d said in the hospital, neither of you had come right out and said, well, anything. 

Until you stopped in your tracks, forcing Spencer to do the same. 

“Is everything-”

“I feel I need to confess something.”

“Do you need a church or-”

“It’s not that kind of confession.” you turned to face Spencer fully. 

In two weeks time, you’d be going back to work. And you couldn’t take another two weeks, plus additional ones of whatever the awkward…thing was between you both. Like you each knew each other's secret, but didn’t know its full whereabouts. 

“I love you,” you told him, finally. “I know it seemed forced, but it was the truth nonetheless. I love you. I am in love with you and…I don’t know what to do about it. Because, first and foremost, you’re my friend. And no matter what, I don’t want to lose what we have. I love you, but most of all I like you. I like being around you. I like listening to you talk about different books and music and the fact that whales can produce sounds up to 188 decibels. I-”

“I love you, too.”

That forced you to stop. And Spencer could see your eyes searching for an explanation. 

“I don’t know how it happened. All I know is that one day I just…breathed for the first time. That I saw you and knew that if I stopped, I might die.”

“Sounds a little dramatic.”

Spencer laughed a little. “I guess it does. But it’s true. I’m in love with you. And I like you, too.”

You smiled. 

“You know, I had a crush on you for the longest time.”

“Really? How long?”

Part of it baffled Spencer that you had perhaps had feelings for him longer than he did you, but most of all it baffled him how he hadn’t noticed. 

“For a while…”

With a smile, you felt yourself leaning into Spencer. And he felt himself do the same thing until finally your lips met his. 

The kiss was gentle at first, but became a little more searing as his hand gently brushed the hair from your face to behind your ear, and pulled you a little closer. 

And you both just stood there for a while, pressed against each other, allowing each kiss to let you both know it was, in fact, very real. 

[facefullofsadness]

I can't fall in love with you

university!au

crush!giselle x admirer!reader

prompt - minjeong is so in love with her girlfriend aeri, but so are you, and you can't be

content - angst, complicated relationship dynamics, alcohol usage, allusions to suicide

wc - 3378

a/n - cathartic: involving the release of strong emotions

the sky is covered with dark clouds, there must be rain today.

it's almost ironic how the weather works, considering the number of nights I've been crying recently. it's been weeks since I last talked to aeri. I've avoided her like the plague to run away from the reality of whatever was brewing inside me emotionally that I felt towards her. minjeong is an incredible girl and the only girl that should really matter in aeri's life, I can't possibly interrupt that, no matter how badly I want minjeong's girlfriend.

knowing aeri for months, we grew closer together, to each other. I got so attached to her; she listened to me, let me rant to her about anything I wanted to, important or irrelevant, took care of me in the moments where I felt out of control of my own life, guided me through the days where I didn't want to try anymore, held me and let me cry into her as I shattered into a million pieces. my heart would always swell thousands of times its original size when she would look at me with those soft and kind eyes, running her big hands through my hair and holding me close as I sobbed, her comforting words making me melt all over again.

I love her, I love her so much, but I know that having her is impossible. I'm not the girl in her life that she prioritizes above all, that she would run to even if I'm on the floor sobbing, even if she made me feel that way. I realized this and became terrified, so I ran away. I abandoned her even after promising to never do so, ghosting her in an effort to leave her to live her life as normal, without so much baggage weighing on her shoulders because of me. but I so badly wanted to go back to her, run into her embrace that would instantly cure me of my agony, but I fought myself instead.

I was a fool to think I could listen to my brain and not follow my heart. cause as I drink the last of my third bottle of alcohol of the night, drunk out of my mind, I couldn't stop myself from texting her. of course, I should've thrown out my phone long ago. incoherent words send themselves to aeri, letters I can barely comprehend. but only minutes later, my vision clears when she replies:

</3: come to the playground

the playground near my apartment, a place we knew well, a place we went to for amusement or solace. maybe, this time it was more for conclusion.

"I hate when you're like this."

aeri says as I stumble over myself to reach the pole holding the swing set up.

"you act like I'm self-destructive or something," I respond sarcastically, slurring over my words, the alcohol in my system taking over completely.

she sighs at what I said, "don't joke around. I don't want you killing yourself... don't you see how hard I'm trying for you? don't you know how much I care about you y/n? how fucking heartbreaking it is to see you like this?"

even intoxicated, I can hear the venom in her voice as she gets irritated with me.

I chuckle back, "oh whatever aeri, don't waste your energy on me."

"fuck you y/n, I can't keep doing this," aeri raises her voice, desperation and exhaustion evident in it.

silence hangs for a second as my world spins, vision blurry, the darkness of the night not helping at all. my stomach churns and my heart burns, aching. all the things I want to confess to her getting stuck in my throat, unable to release itself.

I hiccup once before uttering out, "then leave, don't waste your time on me."

the sound of aeri clenching her fists around the metal supports of the swing are loud enough to be heard, but then, it's silent again. the summer late night breeze flows through the air, a solo lamp post above us providing us with the faintest amount of light, distant chirps of cicadas to accompany the noise of passing cars in the street nearby. then, a choked sob from the girl next to me.

I turn towards her, almost throwing up at the sudden movement. aeri's crying, a single tear falls from her right eye, running down her cheek and falling to the sand below. there's no follow-up sobs, just silent teardrops running down her sweet devastated looking face. my whole chest tightens at the sight, making my head spin more as the alcohol clashes with my heartbreak.

"y/n, if you wanted to leave me, you should've just said so..." it's practically a whisper, barely audible to my dazed mind, but I'm fully zoned in on listening to anything aeri has to say in this moment.

her words sink in however, my stomach unsettled from a mixture of the verbal heartbreak and the physical coping mechanism dancing together in tragic collaboration.

"if you were just gonna leave me hanging for so long, you could've just told me," her voice is louder, "do you know how long I waited for you? do you know how badly I missed you? how badly I wanted to reach out to you? it's not like it would've mattered considering you'd just ignore me."

she continues, "I've tried so, fucking, hard, to ignore how badly it aches being without you," each word added with a pause to emphasize herself. "every single second that has passed since you left me, all I've been able to think about is you."

her eyes close shut as she now uses her hands as her emotions pour out her mouth, "I literally cannot stop thinking about you. my fucking head is just filled with you, you, you. I can't be normal, if my ears aren't filled with noise then the thoughts of you come flowing back in and I can't stop them from being loud."

she hangs her head, her arms falling limp beside her, voice quieting down into defeated sighs, "you promised y/n, you promised me you wouldn't leave. but I can't hate you, I've never been able to hate you or dislike you or feel an ounce of disdain or contempt towards you because I don't, I never will be able to. I only but love you. and I can't stop loving you and I don't know how to stop, I don't know if I'll ever be able to stop, even if I tried it wouldn't work because I HAVE tried. and even then, I still fucking love you."

deafening silence hangs once again in the air, the tension palpable. I feel my chest squeeze, the overwhelming rush of emotions colliding with my fragile heart, feeling the liquid courage in my system turn to regret.

"always so eloquent with words, aren't you aeri?" my voice manages to squeak out, surprising myself, "but never enough to read the room."

she turns to look at me, eyes filled with tears. I hesitate from speaking, the words I want to say stuck at the back of my throat, stopping them from spilling out. if I weren't drunk enough to care, I'd listen to my thoughts, but my body reacts on its own, knowing that if I don't speak now, I'll hold this suppressed pain till the end.

"why do you think I've avoided you? why do you think I needed the space and distance? because I didn't want to see you? because I didn't wanna talk to you anymore? because you didn't make me happy anymore? didn't make me feel like the only girl to ever exist in this wicked fucking world, the only person to truly see and love me, the only person to make me feel like I mattered?"

I can't hold myself back as my emotions overflow from my tongue, unable to halt its onslaught, no longer in control of my own self.

I become louder, choked sentences turning into audible begs for her to listen, "do you really think my words meant nothing? that I didn't mean it when I said all those things to you? that you were the first person, the only person I would go to when I felt like shit? did you even listen to me?!"

"of course I fucking listened to you y/n! why are you acting like I'm stupid?!" aeri argues with me.

"because you're blind aeri!" I argue back, "can't you see?! can't you fucking see what's going on?!"

"I don't understand!"

"I'm in love with you aeri! I'm in love with all of you, every single part of you! I love your smile, your voice, your laugh, your body, your hands holding mine, your warm comforting hugs, your hums when I lay on your chest, your pats on my back when everything is too overwhelming, the affirmation you give when I feel like dying, the interest you show when I rant about something stupid, the shine in your eyes when you talk about your interests, the gentleness you give me when I'm crying, the love you make me feel when you simply exist in my presence and even if we're not together you still make me feel like I matter! I fucking love you!!!"

drops of rain softly fall to the ground around us, a light drizzle slowly emerging from the sky, the weight of my outburst heavy in the air.

my voice croaks, almost whispering, "I've fallen so deeply and harshly and intensely in love with you, every part of my body aches because while I love you, I cannot have you. I know you love me too but you can't love me the way I so desperately want you to, the way I so desperately love you."

the moon glistens in her eyes, shiny with tears and cheeks trailing with raindrops. so much pain painted on her face, and yet she's still so beautiful, my heart longs even harder for aeri.

"being around you makes me feel like the angel you say I am, makes me feel like I'm floating above the clouds and you're the reason why I'm able to do that, makes me feel like nothing else matters as long as I have you. but it also reminds me of how it's all not real, how I can't just have you, that I'm not your only one. it's minjeong and it should be, but my god do I wish it were me..." my voice weakens with the last part of the sentence, the tears streaming down my trembling cheeks.

"so aeri, I'm inexplicably sorry for breaking your heart, but mine is shattered too. my reality, this reality, it's unbearable, and I so badly yearn for you. I've been agonizingly in pain wanting you, needing you ever since I've left with no words, but resisting it because I can't ruin the good thing you and minjeong have. no matter how insanely desperate I am for you, I know it's not right for me to fight myself for you."

we both cry silently, the slight rustle of leaves from the trees around us in harmony with the serene but heartbreaking drizzle of rain muffled by the sand of the dark abandoned playground. it pained me greatly watching the love of my life look so utterly torn apart in front of me, me being the reason aeri was so broken. all I want to do is reach out to her, cup her precious face into my hands, wipe the salty tears from her cheeks, and kiss her plump trembling lips, reassure her that everything will be okay. but again, I can't, I couldn't, my shoes glued to the floor and hands clutching the material of my jacket, like I could hold in the pain aching in my chest.

"y/n..." her voice shaky, tone unrecognizable compared to the comforting and confident girl I knew, "I love you."

even though her voice was weak, what she said made my knees wanna give out, buckling at her words. she had told me she loved me before but this time she sounded different, it made my churning stomach fill with butterflies. my chest pounded harder as aeri started to walk closer to me, tiny but impactful steps as she was almost up against me. her warm hands carefully cupping my cheeks, thumbs caressing my skin and wiping my tears away as I melt completely into her touch. as my eyes close, I feel her forehead rest against mine, aeri's soft lips very slightly grazing mine, my hands falling to slip themselves into her hoodie, holding her close by her waist, afraid to let go.

I clutch her tightly, a contrast to the soft grasp aeri's hands hold my face in, so warm on my cheeks. even for this small moment in time that the two of us settle in, I feel all my anxiety and agony wash away with the rain, comforted and at peace with the world when I'm with her, the girl I'm so tragically in love with holding me like it's the only thing either of us want, need. god I wish this moment would last forever.

what I would give to kiss her right now. how badly I want to just close the miniscule amount of distance between us and feel her soft lips mold against my strawberry soju flavored ones. how desperately I want to pull her into me and never let go, making out with her breathlessly. and how painfully I hold myself back, restricting myself from acting upon any urge I harbor, not letting myself give my everything to the woman I love.

"aeri... I love you," my voice breaks in a sob, "and I'm sorry..."

I take a good look at my one and only girl for the last time, observing her perfection, how ethereal aeri uchinaga is to me. then I rip myself away from her warmth, turning and never looking back, tears welling up in my eyes and blurring my vision of the already pitch black night.

I run. I run and run. I keep running. I cry, furiously. I can't see anything. all I can hear is the sound of my own sobs as I throw myself against the wall of a building and shrink to the floor, wailing into my arms.

the days that followed were a blur. I don't remember how the night ended, how I got home, what happened after, nothing. I didn't touch my phone, didn't contact or respond to anyone, just rotted the days away in my bed, eating or using the bathroom when my stomach hurt too much. not even a knock at the door would force me to get up from my asylum, not a phone call, not an urgent emergency, not anything that could possibly be of importance. simply because nothing mattered. I used to believe it would all be okay if nothing did matter, but my reason to keep believing is gone now, she's all gone.

looking out the window all day, the clouds were dark and heavy, steady drizzling from the sky once again. I took a trip to the kitchen, interrupted by a white envelope on the floor near the door. it compelled me forward, shakily opening it and feeling all of my emotions run back to me as soon as I recognized the handwriting.

dear y/n,

I don't know anymore. I've thought a lot about everything and I just, I've got nothing. nothing to tell you that'll make everything okay, that'll solve any problems or issues, that'll make anyone feel better. I'm sorry y/n, for letting all of this happen. I've come to the realization that it's out of my hands, emotions and love, they act on their own, but while I'm sure I can't completely blame myself for how you feel about me, I could've let you go softly instead of letting you love me, even if I didn't know. I got close to you, closer than I've ever gotten I think to anyone, not minjeong, not my friends, not my family, you. I should've known that our clinginess to each other would lead to such a demise.

I write all of this to say, ultimately, I love you. I still love you, I don't think I can bring myself to stop loving you, again, even if I tried, I wouldn't be able to. I'll be leaving soon, the fall semester is gonna start and I'll be gone and out of your hair in more ways than one before you know it. not that it matters but me and minjeong broke up. it was never gonna work out between us considering the differences in what we wanted and how impossible it was for us to be with one another. I could sense the end for us, I could feel her falling out of love with me. unfortunately I've lost one too many people I've loved deeply and I don't think I can reasonably recover ever from this.

y/n, if you're ever ready to love me again, in any way, shape, or form, I'll be there. I want you to know I'll never stop loving you, again, I fucking can't. I don't know why I keep holding onto you when I know it's over, I know we're over, I know you don't want to, or wish you could stop giving a fuck about me. so goodbye y/n. thank you for making me just the happiest girl I could've been for as long as you existed in this life of mine. you made me feel beautiful, gave me butterflies, made me feel like if everything in life fell apart and that if it was just me and you that it would be perfectly fine, like nothing or no one mattered as long as it was just us, you made me feel so fucking incredible, inside and out. I've never felt such euphoria from anyone before, and haven't felt so gorgeous until you came around, like the goddess you treated me as.

admittedly, I think you were slowly but very effectively taking my heart. I never let myself dwell on those thoughts for too long but deep down I knew that it was true. everything you said that night when I held your precious face in my hands, I couldn't ignore it, I was falling for you too. I wanted to kiss you so bad, to close my eyes as our lips met and ignore the world falling apart around us, but you pulled away and I stood there with my hands in the air covered in rain, feeling my heart break all over again. I love minjeong and I'll continue to love her till I die, but I don't think I was in love with her anymore, but in love now with you. letting you steal my heart while minjeong's heart was in my hands is regrettable, I don't think I'll be able to forgive myself even if she never knows. though, I don't regret having fallen for you, I mean I wouldn't have if there was no reason to, right? but ultimately, it's my fault for letting two incredible people fall in love with me, someone who couldn't keep their hearts from breaking in the end.

I can't promise you this little life of mine will last long, I'm, broken, shattered, and quite frankly, I don't wanna try loving anymore, I think this might've been my last straw. I've never been good with love, you know that, and yet you loved me, maybe you still do. I don't know if I can handle anyone else falling in love with me and letting myself fumble with their precious emotions any longer, so taking out the middle man feels like the conclusion I've reached. we both ended up breaking our promises of staying for each other, didn't we? how ironic, isn't it y/n? I'm sorry for leaving you, but I can't find it in my own fragile heart to stay. so, thank you for being my friend, my love, mine.

I'll protect you from the other side,

your aeri

the rain outside started to pour.

[mariel-g]

Heat?!

Subby-ish Zhongli x fem! reader smut

warnings: heat cycles, monsterfucking, choking, knoting/breeding, inappropriate workplace behaviour, the TINIEST bit of rimming (fem receiving)

MINORS DNI! thanks nadine or WHATEVER

“Ms L/N! How did an old hag like you and Zhongli end up together?” 

“Paimon it’s rude to call people old hags,” traveler admonishes. 

You three are seated at third round knockout, watching your husband appraise some noctilucous jade at the nearest market seller.

“Well, I always had a crush on him for a long time, but never really talked to him, you see. He was always such a regal man, felt completely out of my reach, but then one day I ran into him during an...unfortunate incident.”

Needless to say, when you walked in on him sprawled on his office floor at Wangsheng funeral parlor, his shoulders heaving in agony, you were shocked. Actually, you were beyond shocked, you were scared.

“Zhongli are you okay??” You whisper-shout, swiftly closing the door behind you and locking it.

His head drunkenly turns towards you, his hazy eyes flickering with recognition. 

“Dearest – please, bring me some water and close the blinds.”

The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end from the sound of his voice. The naturally deep timbre of his voice was several octaves lower than normal, reaching a depth that would be considered paranormal.

Concerned, you start towards him but the look in his eyes makes you take a step back. The usual amber colour of his iris is now an intense shade of orange and gold, and his pupils are narrowed into slits like those of an animal.

“What the hell," you whisper. Placing your hands over your mouth, you hurry to fill a cup with water and hand it to him, pushing his silky hair away from his face as you ask:

“What is happening to you?!”

His muscular chest heaves, exposed by the buttons that are nearly completely undone to his waist. There is a scaleyness to his forearems and the veins seem to have a golden glow to them. Is that what his arms have always looked like? He always wears long gloves so you aren't sure. 

When you look up your eyebrows nearly disappear into your hairline. From his hair sprouts two black horns that fade into an amber colour- much like his hair- and twist up in a beautiful arc on either side of his head. 

“Heat.” He croaks out, gratefully taking large gulps of the water.

“What can I do to help? Is it like, a sickness? Should I call the doctor?’

“No..just…” He leans towards you, grasping the back of your calves with his hands. “Just come closer – please.”

You cautiously sit on your haunches, and nearly yelp when you feel his breath on your neck.

“Is this part of the treatment or…?”

Instead of answering he inhales at your throat and lets out an obscene moan that has embarrassment and arousal instantly flaming your cheeks.

“Mate with me. Please- let me satisfy you. This is the only thing that will help me," he murmurs into your neck, moving his head so that he can stare up at you with a glazed hopeful expression as he nuzzles the palm of your hand.

You choke at the crudeness of his words, unsure of how to proceed. To be completely honest with yourself, you’d always dreamed of a day where you’d be able to see this powerful man on his knees for you; begging for you. The way he’s always so controlled and polite makes you desperately want to see what he’d be like if he lost it.

Slowly, you run your thumb over his bottom lip, admiring how red and plump it is. He opens his mouth obediently and his tongue runs over the pad of your thumb.  It’s long and appears forked as he trails it down your thumb and to the pulse point on your wrist, where he lightly sucks. 

You press your thighs together in an attempt to relieve yourself. He’s so gorgeous that you can’t stand it and you tell him so.

“You’re breathtaking.”

At your words he preens, the slight glow to the veins under his skin increasing in intensity. He straightens to his full height and lifts you up, your back hitting the  wall behind as he ungracefully sits you down on a large mahogany desk, knocking off books and corresepondents in your wake.

“I’m trying to hold myself back for you but I don’t know if I can for much longer.” He whispers, fluttering multiple kisses over your face and lips.

“Don’t hold back then.”

You kick off your heels and slowly run your feett up the leg of his suit pants. Resting your socked feet on the indent of his (slutty little) waist, you spread your legs in front of him. Allowing him to get a good look up your skirt and at your panties dampened by your arousal.

“Ahh fuck- .” He moans at the sight, roughly grabbing your hips and flipping up your skirt, exposing your underwear completely.

“Do you want to take it off?” You tease.

He growls deep in his throat in response, and you shudder. The feralness of him in this state is so sexy it makes your skin flush with heat. He bunches the skirt at your waist and slowly drags your underwear down your legs, lifting the piece of fabric to his nose and inhaling.

“Your pussy smells so good- Fuck.” 

Gently lifting you off the desk, he turns you around so that you're facing the wall.  “I'll make it easy for you to take me ” you hear the muted thud of knees against carpet “bend over and grab onto the desk.”

You momentarily feel his hot breath lingering on your inner thighs, kissing up the backs of your legs. You groan, trying not to buck your hips and interrupt his work.

After his kissing and teasing he fully submerges his face into your pussy. He languidly licks you from your clit to the seam of your pussy and back again before he focuses all of his attention on your bud, flicking and sucking at it with precision.

“Yes, baby,” you pant “I want your tongue inside.”

He instantly complies. He parts your folds with his tongue before stroking his way inside. Your eyes close and legs start to shake as he slowly fucks you, pressing his fingers to your clit as he rubs it, steadily working you to an orgasm. 

He groans when you start grinding against his face, his free hand coming up to kneads your ass and thighs before spreading them to lightly rim your hole with his tongue. Your eyes fly open, cheeks heating at the embarrassing position and the way he happily moans while getting you off.

His mouth migrates back to your clit and sucks on it while he patiently inserts two of his large fingers into your hole, gently curling and rubbing them against your walls as you roll your hips on his fingers and tongue.

He alternates his attentions between your clit, hole, and ass until your grip on the desk tightens, your eyes rolling back in your head as your knees buckle from the force of your orgasm. You ride his face as you cum, clutching onto any available purchase for dear life as your orgasm until it starts to slowly ebb away. 

He releases your clit with a ‘pop’ and stands up, helping your shaky legs take a seat back on the desk. You sag against the wall behind the desk as you stare at him, watching the way his tongue savours the remains of your juices on his lips.

“Come closer, I want to kiss you.” 

He complies, leaning over you from your place on the desk as you start feverishly kissing down his neck. You suck on his collarbone and carress under his jaw, pleased by the whimpering sounds you are rewarded with. 

“Undress me now.” he says hoarsely, pulling your hair to detatch your lips.

You leap embarrassingly fast towards his pants to do his bidding. Having disposed of them, you then unbutton the rest of his dress shirt, slowly peeling it off his broad shoulders. Reverently tracing your hands over the unique gold markings etched onto his skin, your marvel at the way his muscles tense and relax as you drag your fingers over his body. If you had the chance to, you’d sit and admire his torso all day, but right now you have a pressing need to satisfy the ache that has resettled between your legs.

Moving onto his boxer briefs, you trail your hands over the waist band and cup his bulge through the fabric. It feels heavy against your hand. You pull the boxer briefs down to his-mid thigh in one swift motion.

When his cock springs out from it’s confines your jaw hangs to the floor, eyebrows scrunching up in abject horror. That belongs in an AK47 briefcase. Not in somebody’s pants.

He lowers his boxer briefs all the way to his ankles before kicking them off, leaving him standing completely naked in front of you, a sight that you were openly relishing.

“It’s not gonna fit.” you pant, softly stroking him from root to tip.

He makes a sound somewhere between a chucke and a whine. “We’ll make it fit.”

His hips start to thrust into your hands as you squeeze his cock.

“Oh, that feels...” He replaces your hand with his own, fisting his dick as his eyes train on your soaking pussy. “I want to be a good boy for you, but I can’t wait.” He grips your calves, raising them to rest on either of his shoulders.

“Do you want my dick inside you?” 

You nod frantically, rubbing your lips against the head of his cock to show him how badly you wanted it.

“Say it.” He hisses.

“Please Zhongli, I want you to fuck me so bad. Need to feel you cum inside.”

A pained whimper tears from his throat at your eagerness for him before he finally sinks inside. He’s so big that it’s slightly uncomfortable as your pussy adjusts to the size of his dick. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

When he’s to the hilt he starts slowly rocking against you, making you whine as his tip massages the sensitive promimnence inside you. 

His body trembles over you when you tighten around him. “Mhm sweetheart, it’s so good to be inside you- been dreaming about this, been wanting to breed you for years” he whimpers. 

Inwardly, your jaw unhinges at his confession. Looks like your unrequited love wasn’t so unrequited after all.

“Need to be quiet, ‘kay?” You whisper, tenderly stroking his unruly hair from his face. 

He nods and softly presses his lips to yours. 

Then withdraws all the way out before slamming back into you.

He continues at this ruthless pace, using you as a fleshlight while lewd sounds pour from his lips. Your hand depart from his hair to wrap around his elegant neck, lightly squeezing when he jolts. 

“Oh please y/n...thank you ma’am.” he chokes out, somehow pressing your bodies even closer together. His hands clutch onto your thighs for dear life as his pace grows irregular, his golden veins positively shining at this point. 

Being able to witness the mild-mannered Zhongli succumb to such base instincts, and the knowledge that you’re one of the very few - if not only person to ever see him like this had your toes curling. When he harshly rubs his thumb against your clit you cry out, the knot of heat in your belly uncoiling as you grip onto his hair as an anchor as your orgasm rolls over you. It seems to last forever as wave after wave of pleasure overwhelms you. 

“It’s so good,” Zhongli sobs, “the way your pussy is milking me is so good.”

His breath is hot against your neck as he looks up at you from half-lidded eyes. 

“I’m close, yn, I’m so close.” He slurs, “am gonna cum so deep inside...” 

He presses you completely into the wall, folding you under him (for reference, your legs r on his shoulders and ur kinda folded like a lawn chair rn) as he lets out a depraved moan. His hips stagger once, twice, before his body completely stops, laying flush against your own as his warmth floods you. 

The magnitude of cum he gives you makes you moan from the sheer eroticness. It serves as proof of his virility and desire for you.  

He keeps himself balls deep inside you, his cock still twitching even as his orgasm subsides. 

Post-orgasm haze fogs your brain as you allow yourself to swim contently in the aftershocks until muffled voices from outside Zhongli’s office tethers you back to reality.

“Zhongli...? I’d stay like this all day if I could but the others will get suspicious.” 

“Dearest...I can’t move.” 

You gasp as you feel something expand inside you - subtle at first- but soon the stretch starts to burn. Zhongli’s cock feels as though it lodges itself even deeper inside you, making it impossible for any of his semen to leak out.

“I- am I being knoted right now?” You ask in disbelief, glancing down at Zhongli who’s now pointed ears have brightened to a dark red.   

“My apologies y/n, I’m afraid I am unable to control it.” 

You can’t help it, you burst out laughing. 

“Don’t - worry - about - it” You choke out between a fit of giggles (more like villainous cackles but let’s keep it cute). “It’s quite pleasant actually.”

The inital burn has retreated, replaced by the feeling of being perfectly filled. The intimacy of the moment charms you, affection warming your heart as Zhongli looks down at you with a gentle gaze, lightly touching his hand to your cheek. Your heart flutters a little bit. 

“It will be over soon, I’m sure.” 

Another fit of laughter attacks you at his words. 

“I’m sure?” you echo, “have you never done this before?” 

“Never, an Adeptus can only mate one person in their life.”  

“Oh!” you stare up at him, shocked. Of course the fact that he chose to mate you of all people makes you want to punch yourself to figure out if this is  a dream or not, but his admittance of his virginity is what really has you reeling. 

Althugh he is young-looking you always had a feeling that his appearance did not betray his true age. Based off of his personality and eating preferences alone you would have guessed he was at the advanced age of 70 years old and certainly not a virgin. 

“Really? You’re quite handsome you know, I’m surprised you haven’t been fucked yet.” 

His face morphs into a look bordering smugness and abject embarrassment. “Ah, thank you.” 

You smile at him, touching your hands to his cheek as he did to you before. 

“So, are we married now or something?”

Placing his hand over yours on his cheek, he leans down to press soft searing kisses over your temple. 

“By human culture, yes we are married. However there is no such thing as divorce.” He says the word ‘divorce’ like a dirty curse. “You are shackled to me forever.”

“Hm, having your first time and wedding in a funeral parlor is kind of shitty then, huh.” You allow your expression to turn dramatically thoughtful. “Let’s just hope we don’t get fired.” 

“ZHONGLI!!” A voice yells outside his office. “OPEN THE DOOR! IT’S LOCKED.” 

His smile instantly disappears. 

“Ms L/N? Are you going to tell the story or not” Paimon huffs, “you’ve just been staring into space.”

The complaint brings you back to the present.

“Paimon! Leave Ms L/N alone, she’s treating us today.” 

They bicker back and forth while eating and you smile contentedly at the two of them. 

Gently lifting one shoulder in a shrug, you breathe in the fresh saltiness of the oncoming wind from the harbour and revel in the lovely atmosphere of Liyue as your husband comes striding back to you with a satchel of noctilucous jade.

“Some memories are better kept to oneself.” 

[laughhardrunfastbekindsblog]

These Scars Remain

Summer of Bad Batch 2024 | Week 6 | Prompt: Battle Scars

Summary: "Did I ever tell you what Tech did when I got my first big scar?" POV: Wrecker (Word Count: 3131)

Read on Ao3

Notes: I touched on a few of the concepts here in one of my other works that I wrote up while imagining how the months between episodes 2.16 and 3.02 had gone for Hunter, Wrecker and Echo. And recently I've been thinking a lot about how Wrecker might have gotten the huge scar on his face. And then I saw this week's prompt. This is the result.

            “Wrecker.”

            Pain. So much pain.

            “Wrecker!”

            Blinding… burning… pain… ringing… agony… so dark…

            “Wrecker! Wake up!”

            Stabbing… crushing… why wouldn’t the pain stop… just make it stop…

            “WRECKER!”

            That voice… he knew that voice… who… Tech, why was Tech yelling at him? Why was the ground shaking…?

            Wrecker came to with a groan. He wanted to move, find his way to more solid ground so he would stop shaking – maybe he wouldn’t hurt as much if he wasn’t shaking – but the only part of his body he could manage to move for himself was his eyelids.

            The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was Tech’s goggles, which were currently taking up most of his field of vision – a field of vision that was narrower than usual… Wrecker blinked, what was wrong with his left eye?

            Then he realized the ground had stopped moving… No, Tech had stopped shaking him. Why had Tech been shaking him…? Had he been asleep? Were they late for a battle simulation or…?

            Suddenly Wrecker remembered: the squad was in their third and final week of completing individual field tests, tests that would determine whether each member of the squad was prepared to progress to the final months of advanced training. Hunter and Crosshair were currently in a different room, Wrecker didn’t yet know what tests had been assigned to those two today. Wrecker and Tech had been shuffled into another area, with Tech being assigned target drills with the blasters in one corner of the long training room, and Wrecker being given the task of disarming a bomb at the other end of the room.

            He had thought it would be a smoke bomb or something similar, he had been told as much – at least, he thought that’s what he had been told by the trainers before they left to watch the proceedings from the observation room. Wrecker still wasn’t sure what had gone wrong, but he was starting to think that definitely had not been a smoke bomb…

            But it didn’t really matter what kind of bomb it had been; he should have been able to disarm it. All the regular cadets had to prove themselves to a certain standard; Wrecker knew full well that his squad of 99s had to prove themselves to be not just on par with the regs, but superior.

            Now, Wrecker couldn’t help but recall that how quickly a cadet recovered from injury during training often played a role in determining whether said cadet was decommissioned or not. And… well, Wrecker knew he had definitely been injured.

            That, on top of having clearly failed the test…

            He didn’t know if retakes were allowed with these exams – he had never asked. None of his squad had needed to.

            “Wrecker! Can you hear me?” Tech may have stopped shaking him, but his anxious voice persisted in calling Wrecker’s name, and Wrecker realized he had spent the last few seconds of reverie staring in a silent daze.

            “Y… Yeah, Tech, I can hear you,” Wrecker replied. His words sounded muffled, garbled to his ears. It hurt so much to talk, but he tried to keep talking anyway, more to reassure Tech than anything else. “Guess I…”

            Tech suddenly disappeared from Wrecker’s line of sight, replaced by a medical droid. “The stimulant worked, CT-9903 has regained consciousness,” Wrecker heard the droid report, before he felt himself being lifted onto a gurney.

            Oh. He was going to be taken to the medical wing. That was fine… just, he didn’t really like going to the medical wing, he didn’t like all the tests that involved being poked and prodded and scanned, and he definitely didn’t like being there alone…

            “CT-9902, where are you going?” the gruff voice of Gibli Ecto, their trainer, sounded somewhere behind Wrecker.

            “I’m going with my brother to the medical wing. I want to stay with him,” Wrecker heard Tech reply.

            “He’ll be just fine on his own. You need to finish your exam. You weren’t supposed to leave your testing station in the first place,” Ecto returned in a tone of finality.     

            “I already passed the test,” Tech replied.

            “Excuse me?”

            Tech’s voice was fading as Wrecker was carried further away, and Wrecker strained to hear his brother’s frank explanation: “Of the 150 targets on the exam, I have already accurately hit the first 136 of them, yielding an average 90.6% hit rate. Even if I miss the last fourteen targets, I’ve already exceeded the target rate required for passing at this point in my training. I don’t need to complete the remainder of the test. I want to accompany CT-9903 to the medical wing.”

            “CT-9902, your insubordination is grounds for disciplinary action…”

            “Let him go, Ecto,” one of the other trainers sighed – Wrecker couldn’t tell who was speaking now, maybe Timbria? “He’s right, he already passed. And these are special circumstances. CT-9902, you’re dismissed.”

            “Yes, sir;” and Wrecker heard hurried footsteps catch up to him before his gurney was carried through the test room doors.

            “I’m here, Wrecker,” Tech said matter-of-factly, placing a hand briefly on Wrecker’s right shoulder to reinforce the fact of his presence. “I’ll stay with you during the medical tests.”

            “Thanks, Tech,” Wrecker said weakly. It still hurt to talk, still hurt to breathe, still hurt to think – and Wrecker found himself succumbing to unconsciousness again.

---

            “Oh good, you’re awake,” was the first sound to greet Wrecker’s right ear.

            “What… what happened?” Wrecker said bemusedly, staring around at the sterile and well-lit room, registering the fact that the left side of his face and head was heavily wrapped in bandages; and the events of the day rapidly caught up to him even before Tech spoke again.

            “You were unsuccessful in disarming the bomb,” Tech started.

            “Yeah, and it blew up in my face. Got it,” Wrecker said, trying to ignore the sick feeling that was developing anew in the pit of his stomach. He was grateful it had been an individual rather than a group exam, that none of his brothers had been nearby when the bomb had gone off, but… What would happen to him for failing his first explosives test? He had heard rumors of other cadets being decommissioned for far less. “I mean, what happened after I passed out again?”

            “You’ve only been unconscious for half an hour, but that was ample time for the medical droids to see to your wounds,” Tech said conversationally, before his tone turned more somber and he seemed reluctant to continue. “Based on what they were saying amongst themselves, I don’t think you’ll regain function of your left eye or ear.”

            “You mean… I won’t be able to see or hear on that side again?”

            “That is correct.”

            Wrecker tried to shrug – oh, it hurt to shrug. And it hurt to grimace from the pain of shrugging. Even thinking still hurt. But none of that mattered. So long as they let him retake the test, he’d learn to live with the pain, just like he’d learn to live partially blind and deaf. He was going to be a soldier and stay with his squad, no matter what. “Guess it’s a good thing I have backups. One ear and eye’s enough. I can still crush droids.”

            Ever since the first wave of graduates had been shipped out a few months ago to officially serve in the Galactic Army of the Republic and fight in the new war, cadets had been informed that they would primarily be facing battle droids, and battle simulations had shifted to reflect this. Barreling through droids had become one of Wrecker’s favorite things to do, and just thinking about it now would have been enough to make him smile – if it didn’t hurt so much to move his face.

            Tech smiled at Wrecker’s brash determination. “That is also correct. It does not seem that your injuries will have any permanent effect on your brute strength and physical domination of the battlefield.”  

            He sounded almost relieved as he said it, and Wrecker suddenly realized Tech was as worried about Wrecker being decommissioned as he himself was.

            Maybe that was why Tech had not only left his own test without permission to make sure Wrecker was alive after the explosion, but also had been so insistent on staying by Wrecker’s side afterwards. If anyone would be able to mount a successful argument against decommissioning any member of this squad of 99s – even if the argument went up against Prime Minister Lama Su himself – it would be Tech.

            The squad had been together long enough and understood each other well enough that Wrecker knew he could count on any one of his brothers for anything. Still, the fact that Tech had risked his own standing as a cadet just to be able to stay close and ensure Wrecker’s safety made Wrecker’s heart warm with gratitude, and he felt in his bones that whatever happened, Tech would always be there for him.

            Wrecker loved his brothers so much. Nobody could have asked for better squadmates.

            “You’re the first of us to be assigned that task. I wasn’t aware the disarming test involved thermal explosives,” Tech said now.

            “I didn’t know either,” Wrecker replied in a low voice.

            Tech sighed. “At any rate, you’re going to have a very – ah, impressive scar.”

            Wrecker frowned as he cautiously patted the layers of bandages on his head. “How do you know?”

            “I saw the damage. The droids did their best and it’s already healing quickly, but… there was a lot of tissue missing. Your hair probably won’t grow back in that area either. All along here – ” and Tech indicated the area by stretching his hand over his own left ear and side of his head.

            The full implications suddenly hit Wrecker; and despite the continued pain, he grinned.

            “What is it?” Tech asked curiously.

            “It’ll be my first battle scar.”

            “I’m not sure you can call it a ‘battle’ scar when you didn’t sustain it in a real battle,” Tech replied drily.

            “I know I didn’t get it in a real battle, but most of the other regs won’t know that,” Wrecker countered. “The important thing is, the regs’ll see this scar and they’ll know I survived something big. And since the scar is right on my face, no one will miss it!”

“Unless you have your helmet on,” Tech pointed out.

            Wrecker stammered for a moment as he tried to come up with an appropriately witty response, but before he could verbalize his retort, the door slid open to admit two very anxious-looking cadets.

            “Wrecker!” Hunter exclaimed, hurrying over to the bed.

            “An actual explosion. Is there anything you can’t survive?” Crosshair quipped as he came up behind Hunter, though the worry was still apparent in his eyes.

            Wrecker tried to guffaw, though it came out more as a wheeze. “It’ll take a lot more than that to put me out of the fight!”

            Hunter shook his head. “This shouldn’t have happened. You weren’t supposed to be tested with a thermal explosive in the first place. From what I can tell, the trainers are all trying to figure out what went wrong.”

            Well, at least he hadn’t misheard critical information… but he had still failed the test, and he was still badly injured, and he couldn’t help but think that he might be deemed unfit to be a soldier.

            “That should be grounds to allow him to retest, then,” Tech was saying thoughtfully.

            “Oh, yeah,” Hunter said, “that’s not gonna be an issue.”

            Hunter said it so confidently, Wrecker couldn’t help but feel a wave of relief. “Really? So I’m not getting…”

            He couldn’t finish the sentence, but all of them knew exactly what he meant.

            “Nope, you’re not,” Hunter said. “I overheard Nala Se saying we’re ahead of the curve already, whatever that means, and that the Jedi will probably want to see our skills for themselves when they get here.”

            Tech’s face perked up with interest. “Jedi?”

            “Yeah. Some of the cadets were saying some Jedi will be coming to oversee training operations from now on. I guess it’s true.”

            Tech now had his “explanation incoming” expression on. “That will be most interesting to experience. The Jedi are formidable warriors, and by all accounts their ways seem to be quite distinct from the Mandalorian and even Kaminoan styles of fighting and training. They have been…”

            “Yeah, yeah, Tech, we didn’t ask,” Crosshair cut him off with a playful shoulder bump to offset the harshness of his voice.

            Wrecker shifted himself slightly to a more comfortable position, noticing that the excruciating pain had become more bearable now that he wasn’t worried about his fate and the fate of his squad, now that he could look forward with new resolutions.

            He wasn’t going to be decommissioned over this. He was going to become an explosives expert – no bomb would ever best him again, and he wouldn’t let any bomb pose a threat to any of his brothers. He was going to be one of the best soldiers out there, just like his brothers were going to be, even if he only had one working eye and ear. He was going to wear his battle scar with pride, because it showed that he might get knocked down, but he would never be beaten. And as long as he, Wrecker, wasn’t beaten, his brothers wouldn’t be, either.

He would make sure of it.

********

“You must sever the connection hinge. Now!”

Pain. So much pain.

            “There is no time, Wrecker. Plan 99.”

            Blinding… burning… pain… ringing… agony… so dark…

            “When have we ever followed orders?”

            Stabbing… crushing… why wouldn’t the pain stop… just make it stop… JUST MAKE IT STOP…

            “Wrecker?”

Echo’s voice drew Wrecker’s thoughts away from Tech’s final words ringing again in his ear, though it wasn’t enough to draw his gaze away from Tech’s broken goggles.

            He didn’t want to think of Tech as broken. He had tried so hard since Eriadu to focus on happy memories with Tech, their time together as cadets, as soldiers, as deserters, their lives together as brothers. But sometimes – most times – focusing on Tech’s life was impossible, when the brutal reality set in.

            Tech was dead. Wrecker hadn’t been able to save him. Omega was gone. Wrecker hadn’t been able to save her – it had been days and they hadn’t even been able to find her. But there was hope Omega would be found and rescued. There was no hope for the same for Tech.

            “Does it ever get better, Echo?”

            For a brief moment, Wrecker wasn’t sure if Echo had heard the question – his voice had been so low and gruff he wasn’t sure if he had even heard himself – but then Echo sighed and leaned against the console, crossing his arms as he faced Wrecker.

            “Yes,” Echo said slowly. “It does get better. But it never goes away completely. You’ll go for longer stretches of time – days, weeks even – feeling okay, the ache is so dim you almost don’t notice it. And then suddenly you’ll feel the pain all over again, like it never left in the first place. But that won’t last long, the pain will fade again, because you’ll have learned to live with it. Just like all the other injuries and losses you’ve learned to live with.”  

            Wrecker sat in silence, grappling with this explanation. He knew Echo had lost brothers before – lost his entire original squad, actually – and he figured Echo must know what he was talking about… but Wrecker didn’t understand it. At all. Losing a brother wasn’t like losing one’s sight or hearing, wasn’t the same as recovering from a blaster wound or a knife to the gut or burns from an explosion.

            Especially since the brother that had been lost had been with Wrecker since the beginning, had helped him through every single injury, every single hurt, those that had healed without leaving a trace and those that had left scars – all of them, except this one.

            Some battle scars couldn’t be seen. The losses that caused them ate away slowly on the inside without leaving any physical marks, just aching emptiness that somehow hurt even worse than every other injury Wrecker had ever experienced.

            All of Wrecker’s physical injuries had healed over time. He didn’t think it was possible that time would somehow make this wound heal too.

            As if he knew exactly what Wrecker was thinking, Echo now added, “It hurts a lot, at first; but remembering my brothers, what they meant to me, all I learned from them helped me keep moving forward. That’s how I learned to live with it. I live for them.”

            “I… I keep trying to think of Tech, of how much he talked and studied and came up with some of the craziest plans,” Wrecker confessed. “I wanna talk out loud about it, but…”

            He didn’t need to finish the sentence. If he wanted to ramble on about Tech, Hunter would patiently listen to him – Wrecker knew this; but, much as his older brother tried to hide it, the look in Hunter’s eyes when Wrecker had first done this had been more than enough to convince Wrecker to stop. Hunter just wasn’t ready to talk or listen about Tech, and Wrecker had to respect that.

            But thoughts and memories like these flowed easier for Wrecker when he was able to talk through them. Holding it all in was so hard.

            Echo glanced back at Hunter, who was currently sleeping fitfully on his rack. The lengths to which Wrecker and Echo had had to go in order to convince Hunter to rest at all…

            “You can talk to me, you know,” Echo offered. “There’s a lot about your time as cadets on Kamino that I don’t know about.”

            Wrecker sat in silence for some time, staring again at Tech’s goggles. Tech had had such poor eyesight that couldn’t be corrected without lenses, no matter what Nala Se and the other medical personnel had tried, that of all the 99s in the squad, he had nearly always been at highest risk for decommissioning; and after Wrecker’s failed disarming test, it had been comforting to know that one brother really understood what it was like to have limited vision, even if Tech had pestered him for months with all the options he had researched of possible ways to restore Wrecker’s vision in his left eye, while Wrecker had responded by teasing Tech that at least spectacles were not one of the options.

            The memory was enough to almost bring a smile to Wrecker’s face – almost – and he glanced up at Echo.

            “Did I ever tell you what Tech did when I got my first big scar?”

@summer-of-bad-batch

[differentpostrebel]

Lost and Found: A Pirates Promise

This just fits the chapter so much LMFAOO

Chapter 6: The Shattered Crew 

A/N: 

Y/N is an established pirate and a formidable warrior, with the third highest bounty in the Straw Hat crew. She's not just another member; her strength and skills have earned her a respected spot among the crew.

Sanji, our favorite lovesick cook, falls head over heels for Y/N almost immediately. True to his nature, he tries every trick in the book to catch her attention, from cooking her favorite meals to showering her with compliments. On the other hand, Y/N may have a small crush on Sanji, but she’s cautious and focused on her goals as a pirate.

As the story progresses, that small crush gradually blossoms into something more profound, but their journey together won't be easy. With the chaos of the New World looming, the dangers they face will test their bond and loyalty to each other. Will their love be strong enough to survive the trials ahead, or will the perils of their pirate life tear them apart?

Get ready for an emotional rollercoaster filled with angst, action, and a dash of romance. I'm thrilled to take you on this adventure with Y/N, Sanji, and the rest of the Straw Hat crew!

Word Count: 3.5k

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6 (Here).

Sanji X Reader, OP X Reader, Sanji x Y/N

Y/N POV… 

Flying through the air, you feel the wind whip against your face, a sensation of soaring at a breakneck speed. “Am I dead?” you think, your mind struggling to grasp the surreal experience. Slowly, you open one eye, squinting through the haze to see the clouds above and the sea far below. Pain radiates through your body, each jolt reminding you of the injuries you've sustained.

“Why am I floating?” you wonder, the realization of what’s happened crashing down on you. “Kuma, my friends disappearing… Sanji’s kiss!” The memory of Sanji’s desperate, passionate kiss floods back, and a pang of rage hits you.Your mad at him because he just kissed you and launched you to Luffy. "Did he really just do that?!"

Your thoughts are abruptly cut off as you crash-land onto an island. The impact is jarring, sending shockwaves of pain through your already battered body. The world spins and blurs as you lie there, succumbing to the exhaustion that finally overtakes you.

As you fade in and out of consciousness, you catch glimpses of people huddling over you. A hand gently touches your face, and you hear a muffled, urgent voice. “Take her to the village and quickly! Her injuries are far too much.”

Your vision darkens, and the last thing you feel is the gentle but firm touch of the strangers as they lift you. The world fades to black once more, and you succumb to the darkness, your mind haunted by the echoes of those you’ve lost. 

You wake up with a groan as the bright light hits your sensitive eyes. You blink rapidly, trying to adjust to the brightness. As your vision clears, you realize you’re in a hospital room. The sterile white walls and the soft beeping of medical equipment are unfamiliar.

You attempt to sit up, but a sharp pain shoots through your body, causing you to cry out in agony. Almost immediately, a doctor and a male nurse rush into the room. The doctor’s face shows a mix of relief and concern, while the nurse has a reassuring smile.

“Good! You’re awake!” the doctor says, his voice warm but filled with urgency. “You were on the brink of death if it weren’t for our soldiers bringing you here!”

The nurse steps closer, adjusting your IV and checking your vitals. “You gave us quite a scare. We’re glad you’re stable now.”

Groaning, you try to focus on them, your mind still foggy from the recent events. “How long was I out for?” you ask, wincing as you move.

The doctor glances at the nurse before answering, “About a day.”

Your eyes bulge in shock. “A day?! I have to go!” You try to scramble off the bed, but the pain and weakness make your movements awkward and unsteady. “I need to get back to Sabaody! If you have a boat, I need to leave before the third day! All my friends will be waiting!”

The doctor moves to steady you, his expression turning serious. “I understand your urgency, but unfortunately, you’ll need to speak with the king of the island. He’s the one who grants permission for ships to leave. And he’s known to be the toughest fighter here.”

Your desperation is evident as you look up at him. “The king? How can I talk to him? I need to go now!” I went to reach my vivre card that was laying on the table next to you.  

The nurse steps forward, his expression sympathetic. “The king is a formidable warrior and a crucial figure here. It’s not easy to see him, and he’s known for being very strict about who he allows to leave. But if you want to get back to your friends, it’s the only way.”

The doctor nods in agreement. “We’ll arrange for you to meet with him as soon as possible. For now, focus on resting and recovering. Your health is the priority.”

You collapse back onto the bed, frustration and anxiety written all over your face. “Please, do everything you can to help me. I can’t afford to lose any more time.”

The nurse places a comforting hand on your shoulder. “We’ll do our best. Rest for now, and we’ll make sure you’re seen by the king as soon as possible.”

As the doctor and nurse leave the room to make the necessary arrangements, you lie back, your mind racing with worry for your friends and the time slipping away.

Sanji's POV…

"My dearest Nami, my sweet Robin, my beautiful Y/N... It's been a while. How are you three doing? As for me, I’m..." A few hours before...

I’m struggling to open my eyes. The smell of the ocean lingers in the air, and I groan as I manage to lift my head slightly. Above me, a heart-shaped rainbow stretches across the sky. My body feels like it’s on fire, every muscle aching, as if I’ve been through a war.

Realization hits me after a few minutes. Kuma… My crew disappearing… And then… Y/N…

My eyes bug out of their sockets as I remember. "Y/N!" I shout, trying to leap up, but pain betrays my body, forcing me to stay on the sand. I’m exhausted, my body drifting in and out of consciousness. "Where the hell am I?" I mutter weakly.

"Oh my goodness, are you alright?" A gentle voice reaches me, but it’s muffled. "Mister, are you alright? Can you hear me?"

I can’t make out what she looks like, my vision blurring as exhaustion takes over. I finally let it win, darkness swallowing me whole.

Some time later...

I wake up again, but this time, I’m resting in the lap of the same lady. She’s gently wiping the dirt and debris from my face with a handkerchief. Her scent is sweet, soothing, and for a moment, I’m lost in it. "Am I… in the lap of a beautiful woman?" I wonder aloud, my thoughts hazy. "Is it… Nami? Maybe Robin? Or perhaps Y/N?" My heart races at the thought, but no… it can’t be.

Despite my fatigue, I reach up, grinning like a fool, and grab her arm. “No way, I want to stay here forever.”

She freezes under my touch, and then, without a word, she gets up and runs away.

“Hey, wait a minute, come back!” I call after her, but she’s gone. I blink, sitting up. “I guess it wasn’t a dream…” I mutter, noticing the handkerchief she left behind. Flipping it over, I see the name ‘Elizabeth’ embroidered on it.

With a groan, I get up slowly, my body still weak, and start walking. "I still don’t have a damn clue where I’m at." I glance around, the scenery unfamiliar. "Maybe I died and gone to heaven?" I say, half-jokingly, though part of me wonders if it’s true.

Then, a sudden thought hits me. “I sense romance in the air,” I mutter to myself, shaking my head almost immediately. "No, no, I can’t think of such things like that." I take out my vivre card and look at it, the reminder of what’s truly important. "Nami, Robin, and Y/N are waiting for me."

I sigh, a heartfelt, conflicted sigh, clutching the handkerchief to my chest. "But the least I can do is thank her for her kindness!" I declare, determination sparking in my tired body. After all, a gentleman must always be courteous to a lady.

With a renewed sense of purpose, I started running in the direction the woman—Elizabeth—had gone. My heart pangs with guilt as I imagine the looks on Nami, Robin, and Y/N’s faces. “Nami, Robin, Y/N… please forgive me for being unfaithful,” I whisper under my breath, but I keep running, hoping to find Elizabeth and express my gratitude. 

Y/N POV: 

You continue to stare at the vivre card Shakky handed you, watching the small piece of paper begin to slowly move. With a sigh, you gaze out the window from your bed, wondering where everyone else landed and hoping they were all safe. "I wonder what the crew is doing," you mutter, the words heavy with longing.

Finally, you manage to stand and walk slowly to the mirror. The reflection that meets you is almost unrecognizable—a shell of the person you once were. Your hair is disheveled, your body wrapped in bandages, and your right thigh, where the bandage is beginning to unravel, reveals a small scar. A constant reminder of what happened that day.

You shake your head, trying to push the dark thoughts away. "No," you whisper to yourself. "Now is not the time to mope. I have to keep going." Just as you're about to put on your clothes, the door opens, and the male nurse enters. A faint blush creeps across his cheeks as he takes in the sight of you. Realizing your predicament, you quickly grab the sheets from the bed and wrap them around yourself, securing your body.

The nurse stumbles over his words, trying to explain, "Your clothes were too damaged to wear, so I brought some traditional wear for you." You look at the clothes, puzzled, given that this is a male-only island. The shirt looks more like a dress but fits you nicely. As you start to speak, the nurse cuts you off, "They belong to my sister, actually. We weren't always an all-male island... but for some reason, all the women suddenly disappeared."

You step forward, wrapping your arms around the nurse, feeling the hesitation in his body before he slowly relaxes and returns the embrace. His warmth offers a small comfort in the midst of all the chaos you've endured.

"Thank you," you whisper, your voice soft yet filled with sincerity. "For everything. I can't imagine what it's like to lose so many people, especially your sister... But I promise, I’ll do whatever I can to help, starting with this challenge."

The nurse holds you a little tighter before letting go, a mixture of relief and sadness in his eyes. "You remind me of her," he says quietly. "Strong, determined... She would have liked you."

Before you can respond, the male doctor enters the room, his expression serious but not unkind. "The King has an opening tonight," he informs you, his gaze flicking briefly to the nurse before returning to you. "It’s rare for someone to get a chance to face him so soon, but you’ll need all your strength. He's known to be the toughest fighter on the island."

You nod, determination hardening your resolve. "Okay," you say, glancing between the doctor and the nurse. "Let’s go. I need to get back to my crew, and if facing the King is the way to do it, then I’m ready."

The nurse gives you a small, encouraging smile. "We’ll be with you every step of the way," he says, his voice full of quiet strength. "Just... be careful. The King isn’t someone to take lightly."

You offer him a reassuring smile, despite the nerves fluttering in your stomach. "I’ll be careful," you promise, "but I won’t back down. My friends are waiting for me, and I’ll do whatever it takes to get back to them."

With that, you gather your blades, ready to face whatever challenges lie ahead.

Sanji POV… 

After a few minutes, I arrived at a quaint home that matched the style of Elizabeth's handkerchief. Knocking on the door, I made my presence known. "Lady Elizabeth, it's me, Sanji," I called out. "I came here to return your handkerchief."

I heard the unmistakable sound of heels clicking on the floor as someone approached from the other side. The door creaked open, and just as I flashed my best smile, she yanked the handkerchief out of my hand and retreated back inside.

"Hey, you never let me say thanks!" I called after her, trying to keep my cool. "Don’t rush, Sanji. She’s probably a shy and innocent girl. Be cool, have a little patience." I continued to talk to her behind the closed door, trying to engage her in conversation.

Elizabeth, from the other end, began asking me a series of questions, which I eagerly answered. She seemed particularly curious about dresses. I paused for a moment, pondering her interest, and then it hit me—she must be trying to make a love connection. The thought brought a grin to my face.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and Elizabeth stood there, inviting me inside. Stepping into her home, I started to flirt, my charm in full swing. Her back was turned to me, and I imagined her blushing from my words. But then, she abruptly turned around and ran towards me.

"Oh, Elizabeth! Leap into my arms, love struck—" I began, but before I could finish, she shoved an outfit into my arms, catching me completely off guard. The force of it sent me sprawling flat on my back.

Confused, I looked up as Elizabeth leaned over me, a mischievous grin on her face. "This outfit would look amazing on you," she declared.

I blinked, my mind racing to make sense of what was happening. Then, it dawned on me—this wasn't the romantic encounter I had imagined. "Wait a minute… What’s going on here?"

Elizabeth straightened up, her grin widening. "Welcome to Kamabakka Kingdom," she said, her tone cheerful but with an edge that sent chills down my spine.

Panic gripped me as the realization hit me like a ton of bricks. This wasn't just any island—this was that island. 

My eyes widened, and without another word, I scrambled to my feet and bolted for the door. "My dearest Nami, my sweet Robin, my beautiful Y/N... It's been a while. How are you three doing? As for me, I’m—well, how do I put this..."

I ran as fast as my legs could carry me, my heart pounding in my chest as the gravity of my situation sank in. I have to get out of here… and fast!

Y/N POV…

You begin to exit the hospital quarters, the sunlight filtering through the leaves as you stretch your arms out, feeling the pull of your muscles. It’s a small comfort after being bedridden for so long. Before heading to the King's quarters, you glance back at the nurse. "Is there an isolated area where I can practice with my blade before meeting the King?"

The nurse nods and leads you to a secluded part of the island. The clearing is quiet, with only the rustle of leaves and the distant sound of waves. Perfect. You unsheathe your blade, feeling its familiar weight in your hand.

Taking a deep breath, you step into the clearing and begin to move, launching blow after blow with precision and speed. Your blade slices through the air, cutting trees left and right with swift, effortless movements. The sound of wood splintering echoes around you as you continue to push yourself, testing your limits.

"Still got it," you mutter with a smirk, satisfied with your performance.

Both the male doctor and nurse stand still, their eyes wide in admiration. Despite your injuries, you wield your blade with deadly precision. Maybe, just maybe, this will be enough to defeat the King.

You sheath your blade with a confident flourish and turn to the medics. Grinning, you tell them, "Now, shall we?" They nod, preparing to lead the way, but before you can take a step, you hear a distant coo.

You pause, recognizing the sound. "A news coo?" you wonder aloud. Curiosity piqued, you reach out and grab the newspaper it drops. Unfolding it, your eyes scan the headlines, and suddenly, your heart stops.

"Ace… Ace has died at Marineford. And Luffy… Luffy was there trying to rescue him."

Your breath catches in your throat. "Luffy!" you yell, your voice trembling with shock.

The medics exchange worried glances. "Luffy? What happened?" the nurse asks, his voice tinged with concern.

You can barely speak, your mind racing with the implications of what you’ve just read. Shaking, you release the paper, letting it flutter to the ground. "No… This can’t be happening."

The urgency of the situation hits you like a tidal wave. There’s no time to waste. You need to get to Luffy, to find out if he’s safe. Your heart pounds in your chest as you make a decision. "I need to get a ship. Now."

The doctor steps forward, a determined look on his face. "We'll help you, but you have to stay focused. If you want to defeat the King, you can't let your emotions get the better of you."

You nod, trying to steady your breathing. "I understand… but Luffy is my captain, my friend. I have to know he's okay."

The nurse, his expression softening, places a hand on your shoulder. "We’ll get you to the King, and once you’re finished, we’ll help you find a way off this island."

You take a deep breath, pushing down the surge of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. "Thank you," you say, your voice resolute. "Let’s go."

As you follow the medics towards the King's quarters, your thoughts are consumed by the news of Ace and Luffy. Your grip tightens around your blade. Luffy… just hold on. I’ll find you. I promise.

Kings Quarters…

You arrive at the King’s quarters, taking in the sight of men being carried out, each one more battered than the last. You let out a low whistle, then turn to the nurse. "You weren’t kidding... actually, I never got your names?"

The nurse and doctor exchange glances before the nurse smiles and says, "I’m Sam," and the doctor adds, "And I’m John."

A smile crosses your face as you nod, revealing your own name. Their eyes widen in surprise, and for a moment, they seem stunned. You feel a slight blush creeping up your cheeks, but before you can say more, you hear the booming voice of the King.

"Who dares challenge me next?" he bellows.

You glance at Sam and whisper, "He’s so young."

Sam nods, explaining, "He took the throne at 20 after his father passed.Hes been King for about 8 years now"

The King's eyes fall on you, and a smirk tugs at his lips. "A woman? There haven’t been any women on this island for ages. You think you can challenge me?"

Without a word, you draw your blade and execute a swift, precise movement. The air around you crackles as the force of your strike splits a nearby stone pillar in two. The room falls silent, and the King’s smirk fades, replaced with a look of intrigue. 

You square your shoulders, meeting his gaze. "You’ll find that I’m more than capable, Your Majesty. I’m here for a ship, and I intend to earn it.”

Amused, the King rises from his throne, descending the steps to face you directly. "Impressive," he says, a gleam of excitement in his eyes. "Let’s see if you can back up that skill in battle." 

The fight begins with a tense silence as the King, without drawing any weapons, assumes a combat stance. You tighten your grip on your blade, determined to give everything you have.

As you launch the first strike, the King effortlessly dodges, his movements swift and precise. He counters with a punch aimed straight at your midsection. The force of the blow is overwhelming, knocking the wind out of you as you cough up a bit of blood.

From the sidelines, Sam watches in horror. "John, I’m worried," he whispers, his voice shaking. "She’s strong, but the King… he’s something else."

You grit your teeth, pushing through the pain, and manage to land a strike on the King's cheek. But before you can feel any sense of victory, he slams his fist into the ground, splitting the room into two. Shocked, you mutter, "How did he do that?"

The King doesn’t give you time to recover. He comes at you with a relentless barrage of blows, each one heavier than the last. You struggle to keep up, your body growing weaker with each impact. Finally, a powerful punch sends you crashing to the ground, and your vision starts to blur. The sound of cheering male voices fills the room as you fade in and out of consciousness.

Just as Sam moves to help you, the King notices and orders his men to seize him. "Throw him in the pit!" the King commands, his voice cold and merciless.

Sam struggles against the soldiers, fear evident in his eyes. As they drag him toward the pit, you summon the last of your strength, forcing yourself to stand. The world spins around you, but you refuse to let Sam suffer. With a surge of adrenaline, you yell, "Sam, duck!" and with one swift movement, you strike down each soldier, sending them plummeting into the pit instead.

Sam looks up at you, his expression a mix of confusion and gratitude. "Why did you help me?" he asks, his voice trembling.

You sheathe your blade and offer him a faint smile. "You helped me when I was injured. We’re friends now."

With that, you and Sam help each other up and make your way out of the chamber, John quickly joining your side. As you exit, you can feel the King’s gaze on you. He watches the entire scene with a smirk, turning to his men. "Who is she?" he asks, his tone laced with curiosity. "And what was she doing on this island?"

>

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OMG!!! Looks like things are about to be good! For this chapter, I wanted to pace it the same way as the anime had it. Sanji heading to Kamabakka Kingdom always makes me laugh so much! Next Chapter will be funny. Sanji is going to meet with Ivankov, and their interaction will be funny. You also are getting another news coo paper which will then reveal the fate of the strawhats crew. Thank you guys for following, sharing, reblogging, and liking my Story! I can't wait for y'all to read what's next! As always the chapters are all linked. See you Tomorrow!

[atinylittlepain]

In a Pinch

Joel Miller x f!reader

joel miller masterlist

Joel keeps throwing his back out, but Ellie knows just who to go to for help.

warnings | 18+ allusions to smut, that's literally it, fluff ahead

a/n | is this entirely self-indulgent nonsense? why yes, yes it is. also, this ficlet belongs to the sweetness universe, but can totally be read on its own

.............................

This is the third time this week that Ellie has come home from her classes at the community school to find Joel sprawled on the floor with a pained look on his face. 

“Back hurting again, old man?” He huffs, glancing at her from where he’s laying on the living room floor.

“I’m just– stretching.” She snorts at that.

“Oh yeah? What’s this pose called? I’ve given up-dog?” She bursts out in laughter, impressed by her own joke. Their pretty teacher-slash-neighbor-lady had been offering yoga classes during their free elective period in school, and Ellie had gone only because Dina wanted to do it, but now she’s happy for the material it provided for her to razz Joel with. He, however, does not look equally amused at her wordplay.

“Alright, smartass. Will you just help me up? Goddamn.” He shuffles into a seated position with a hard groan and Ellie begrudgingly offers him her hand. Right as he starts to pull himself up though, he lets out a yelp of pain. She didn’t know Joel could even yelp, quickly getting worried by the way he flops back down onto his back, his face twisted up in what could only be agony.

“Jesus– fuck!” That can’t be good.

“What? What’s wrong?” She hovers over him, getting more and more worried by the way he’s not moving a muscle.

“It’s my fucking back– I– something popped.” Because she isn’t a geriatric menace like Joel, Ellie knows nothing about what that could possibly mean, just that it’s probably not good that he literally cannot sit up right now.

“Uh, ok– should I– should I get someone?” Joel tries his best to shake his head no, more of a jerky side to side than anything else.

“No. Just gotta– wait it out.” She scoffs.

“On the fucking floor? What if I just get Tommy? He could at least get you onto the couch or something.” The shaky jerk of his head gets a little bigger, but Ellie’s already headed toward the door. Because she’s her, she turns on her heel just before slipping out.

“Be right back, old man. Don’t you go anywhere!” She just couldn’t help herself.

However, as she steps out onto their front porch, it dawns on her that Tommy is on patrol today. Shit. She racks her brain for who else she could ask for help, coming up with a big fat nobody. She’s distracted from her dilemma by the sound of faint humming, whipping her head around to see their neighbor - pretty teacher-slash-neighbor-lady whom Joel has a huge crush on - walking up the steps to her own porch and unlocking her door before slipping inside. Ellie grins, a clear solution suddenly laid right before her. Yoga is good for bad backs, right?

She’s already bounding across their yard toward pretty-teacher-lady’s house. It would take a fool to not notice that something has been going on between Joel and her, ever since that dance they both just happened to disappear from at the exact same time. As far as Ellie’s concerned, asking her to come help out the old man and his messed up back is a win-win, a two for one really. In one fell swoop, Ellie will get Joel some help and embarrass the living shit out of him in front of the woman he’s got the hots for. Now that’s a prospect she could never pass up.

…

“Ellie, what the hell–”

“Shut it, old man! She can help you with your messed up back.” Joel hasn’t felt this mortified in a long time, a hot flush creeping up his cheeks as his eyes dart between his smartass of a kid and their neighbor, the same neighbor he’s been fooling around with for the last few months. Probably not for much longer, now that she knows I throw my back out if I even sneeze funny. 

“I’m fine– really. Just– letting things loosen up a bit.” Ellie snorts at that, turning to their neighbor with a smug look.

“He couldn’t even get up off the floor–”

“Ellie.” If there was a way for someone to die of embarrassment, he reckons he’d already be six feet under by now. Their neighbor, however, seems unphased by the whole thing, putting a hand on Ellie’s shoulder and offering her a smile.

“Ellie, I think Dina was looking for you at the stables, why don’t you–” Before she can even finish, Ellie is already whipping out the door. Joel lets out a huff, and then winces at the pain it sends shooting through his back. 

“I don’t need any help.” She quirks a brow at him, kneeling down by his head.

“You sure about that?” He hums a yes. She doesn’t seem convinced.

“If you don’t need any help, can you sit up for me?” Fucking hell. 

“I mean– I can. S’just, I’m good like this for now.” She tilts her head at him, her crooked smile letting Joel know she doesn’t buy that for one second.

“Ok, I’ll let you stay like that. But can you tell me what happened at least?” He turns his head just slightly to look at her, letting out a deep sigh.

“It’s my back.” She chuckles.

“I can see that. But what happened to have you laid out like this?” He presses his lips into a thin line, furrowing his brow, not wanting to admit to her what happened. She brings a hand to his shoulder.

“It’s embarrassing.” 

“Joel, there’s no need for that. Besides, I’ve already had you on your back more than a few times before, haven’t I?” She can barely get the last words out, dissolving into a giggle. Joel, however, does not think it’s very funny.

“Now you’re just being cruel.” She sighs, squeezing his shoulder as she dips down to give him a peck.

“I’m kidding, don’t pout. Seriously, I might be able to help you if you just tell me what happened. Please?” He huffs, already melting at the soft look she’s giving him.

“It happened at the stables– earlier today. Bent over to pick up a saddle and it just– something just tensed up. It’s happened before– usually just gotta lay down and it’ll work itself out– but then the kid came home and she tried to help me up and–” “Let me guess, something popped?” His jaw goes slack at her knowing smile and she rather comfortingly rubs her palm up his arm.

“Can you tell me what kind of pain you’re in right now?” 

“It’s tight in my low back– but the pain is sorta– spreading? Down into my legs.” He’s surprised when she looks at him like she knows exactly what he’s talking about.

“Sounds like sciatica.”

“Come again?” She smiles.

“We all have something called a sciatic nerve. It runs from your low back down both of your legs. It tends to get pinched pretty easily from stuff like heavy lifting and the pain this causes is called sciatica.” He squints at her.

“Why exactly do you know this?” She sighs, already setting into action, shifting down to his feet to tug off his boots.

“Well, I was a yoga teacher in another life. Had a lot of men just like you come into the studio with the same complaint.” A new detail he hadn’t known about her. He nods, peering down at her where she’s still working at his shoes.

“Do you know how to fix it then?” She hums, shifting back up onto her knees and shuffling to his waist.

“Sort of. I can move you through some stretches right now to at least get you off the floor. But the real fix for something like this is gonna be strengthening everything around it. If you keep up with the exercises I’ll show you, this shouldn’t be a problem anymore.” Joel can’t help but grumble at that. He’s never had to do “exercises” in his life. His work always kept him fit, and after that, scraping by in the apocalypse had worked just as well, though he supposes things have gotten a bit more lax in Jackson. He doesn’t have much time to ponder this when she’s abruptly undoing his belt and unbuttoning his pants.

“Woah, hey– not that I, uh, mind exactly. But what’re you doing?” She grins at him, her hands stilling at his waistband.

“Easy, Miller. I’m just gonna take off your jeans. Need you to have your full range of motion for these stretches and tight denim isn’t gonna fly.” He’s trying real hard to not be weird about it, but the sight of his pretty neighbor whom he happens to have seen naked on multiple occasions now gently shimmying his jeans down his legs is making his heart slam against his ribcage. 

When she gets his pants all the way off, leaving him in his boxers and t-shirt, she stands up with her hands on her hips, surveying the situation. Joel can’t help but grumble.

“Feel like a fucking invalid.” She snorts at that, kneeling back down alongside his waist.

“Alright, enough of the pity party. I’m gonna guide you through some stretches, you tell me if anything hurts too much, ok?” He nods, trying to ignore the shiver that runs up his spine when she rests her hand on his hip.

“Which leg are you feeling pain in?” He tells her it’s his left side, the one closest to her, and she nods. She slides her hand down from his hip to the hinge of his knee, and he can’t help wondering if this is the treatment she gave all her clients before. He sure hopes not. 

“Here’s what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna bend this knee in toward your chest and see if that doesn’t release any of the gripping. If that feels ok, we can take it a bit deeper, alright?” He’s not really sure what any of it means, a little too focused on the way she’s reassuringly stroking her thumb along the crook of his knee, but he nods. 

With a little assistance from him, she starts to bend his knee, tightness immediately pulling in his back as she tucks his leg in toward his chest. Well, sort of. His leg only bends to a bit over ninety degrees before it just stops. Her eyes dart to his, a furrow of concern clear in her expression.

“Does that hurt too much?” He huffs, shrugging a little.

“Not really– s’just tight. I don’t think it’s gonna bend anymore. Feels– I don’t know– rusty.” She sighs, her hand that’s not supporting his knee rubbing his chest in soothing circles.

“Ok, my sweet tin can man. Let’s try something else.” As she maneuvers him into what she calls a “figure four stretch,” he can’t help but study her face. He’s never seen her so focused, so determined, so at ease, and it’s clear to him that all this was a big part of her life before.

“So, this is what you did for a living? Helped people out with their messed-up backs?” She breathes out a laugh at that, keeping one hand on his shin as she looks up at him.

“This was part of it, yeah. I went to college for human physiology– suppose that’s why they have me teaching science at the school now. It just made sense to me, y’know? Muscles and ligaments and bones, how they move. Yoga just happened to be a passion that I turned into a job– I loved it.” He nods at her words, enjoying the distraction of learning a little more about her far more than the tight pulling sensation of the stretch she has him in. 

Then, all of a sudden, another pop resounds through his back. But this one doesn’t feel like a tightening up, it feels like a huge release. 

“Sweet jesus.” Her head whips up to look at him, hand slackening where it had been holding firm pressure to his leg. 

“You alright?”

“I’m pretty sure something just let up– felt another pop– but a good one, I think.” She nods, sitting back and resting her hands in her lap as he tentatively unwinds his legs from the stretch she had him in, planting his feet flat on the ground with his knees bent. 

“Well?” He sits up with a little groan, holding onto his shins to stay up straight.

“Feels a lot better. Still tight, but the pain has eased up for sure.” She practically beams at that and suddenly Joel’s heart is hammering in his ribcage again.

“Now that’s what I like to hear, Miller.” She helps him up, and this time, he actually makes it off the floor, quick to wrap his arms around her waist and pull her into him.

“Thank you for your help, darlin. Gonna have to repay you somehow.” She laughs into the downright salacious kiss he steals from her, lightly pressing on his chest to get him to let up.

“Oh, I’m not done with you. Still got exercises to learn.” He groans at that, jostling her in his hold and burying his face in her neck, but she rakes her fingers through his hair, tugging lightly to get him to look at her. 

“And I’m gonna be checking in everyday to make sure you’re doing them. Can’t have you throwing your back out anymore, not on my watch.” He can’t help but smile at that, trying to kiss away the stern expression she’s giving him.

“Yes ma’am. Whatever you say.” He reckons if the instructor is as pretty as she is, he won’t mind doing a few exercises every now and again.

[builtbybrokenbells]

Gold Dust Woman | vi

Y/n quickly learns how to atone for a mistake that she was not aware she ever made.

Read part five here

Pairing: jake kiszka x f!reader, sam kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 18k (sorry 😭)

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex (borderline hate fucking 🫣), oral (m!receiving), oral (f!receiving, face-fucking, fingering, choking, impact play, degradation, praise, edging/orgasm denial, overstimulation, dirty talk, dom/sub, touch of bratty sub, sex in a semi-public place, possessiveness, jealousy, love triangle themes, swearing, touch of sadness/angst, but this is mostly just porn with a hint of plot. Sorry if I miss any!

hello everyone, it’s so wonderful to be back 😁 thank you for all of your kind words so far 🫶🏻 please enjoy, be kind, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes! this very is lightly edited

Three days. It had been three long, gruelling days since you had heard a word from Jake. Worse than that, it had been three days since you had even heard a faint whisper of his name, or a withering idea that he still existed on the same realm as you. No calls, no texts, not even a glimpse of him in public, hidden away in a corner of his most favourite stores. Not even a wisp of hair blowing as he rounded a street corner. No likes on social media posts; he was not even lurking in the comment section of mutual friends pages. He had ceased to exist, and as much as you liked to pretend that it didn’t bother you, it was excruciating. So much so, that you’d found yourself withdrawn from the normal day to day routine, floating through with no real enjoyment. You were constantly checking your phone or getting excited when you heard a notification, only to be crushed at the realization that it wasn’t him. You found yourself absentmindedly checking for him in every room you entered, every street or store you found yourself in, and every single time you left the house.

The agony of missing him extended far beyond the simple fact of the matter. It leeched into every aspect of your life in the most twisted and rotten ways. Simple pleasures no longer existed; the beauty in song sounded with less comfort, colours in paintings a little less vibrant, sugar a little less sweet. Sure, life would go on indefinitely, but it would be miserable, at least for the foreseeable future. Or, until he decided to grace you with his presence again. You braved the storm the only way you knew how: with a smile on your face, and no hint that anything was wrong in the first place. But, no matter how wide you smiled, or how sore your cheeks were from faking it, it never seemed to diminish the residual ache in your chest.

In truth, Jake was not the only one that disappeared. You had spoken to Danny only a number of times, which was incredibly unusual. He was busy in the studio, refining his drum work for the last touches on their album. When he wasn’t doing that, they were rehearsing for their upcoming tour. If that was finished, they were stuck in interviews and meetings. You knew he was genuinely busy, and in no way would he ever use it as an excuse to ignore you, but it did suck. He was your best friend, your home away from home, and missing him may also have had an effect on the way you missed Jake. You were lonely, and that was one thing you despised more than anything else in the world. Your stubbornness was stronger than your hatred of isolation, only worsening the suffering. Instead of reaching out to anyone, you waited until they had time to come back around. Your nagging fear of being forgotten about was brutal, and the more time that passed, the more you felt like it was crushing you.

At first, you chalked up Jakes absence to work, the same reason Danny hadn’t been able to visit. The first day it worked, but about halfway through, you thought the lack of communication was quite curious. By that evening, it was evident he was ignoring you. By day two, you were sure you’d permanently ruined your relationship with him, and by the third day, you were certain he hated you. You were not sure what the fourth would bring, and you were anything but eager to know. You had faith in him, wanting to ignore your brains incessant speculation on his behalf. You knew Jake to be sincere, and there was no way he would have spent those days with you playing house just to drop you the next day. That’s what you repeated to yourself, hoping that you were correct. Hoping that today would be the day his name graced your phone screen.

Your relationship with Sam hadn’t seemed to progress, either. Sure, you both texted, although dry by times. He’d confessed his utter enjoyment of the night you spent wrapped around each other, and you had too. He was scared of vulnerability, knowing he cared for you far more than he originally thought, and how dangerous that was. You were scared, too, because you felt the same, and his seemingly sudden withdrawal of interest had hurt you. You were both scared of getting hurt, without the realizing that you already were. It was much like anticipating a gunshot after getting stabbed. He had taken you out on a dinner date the day prior, albeit with an air of casualness. It was still nice, filled with laughter and small jokes, but didn’t stem any further than a make out session in his car, similar to the likes of two horny teenagers.

You thought you should take Jakes absence as a sign to pursue Sam. You were falling for him, even more than you were before the weekend full of events. You enjoyed everything you had done together, and knew that it was likely the right choice to make. Perhaps Jake had pulled out of the race, realized that it was foolish and wanted to put it to a civil end. Still, there was a part of you that wasn’t done with him, yet. Still craving him, aching for his touch and his love. Even if you attempted a relationship with Sam so soon, it would end in just as big of a disaster. So you waited, hoping that Jake had just stopped for a breather rather than changed course completely. It was feeble, but it was the only thought that gave you any type of comfort in the three days you’d gone without him.

You went to work Monday and Tuesday with little motivation. You felt bad about your lack of interest in your clients, but they never really seemed to notice. They were there to record music, not get a round of applause every time they completed a solo. Despite that, you still held some guilt over the distant nature you had clung to, realizing that it was very out of your character to be so uninterested in your work. Wednesday was no different. You crawled out of bed feeling like weights were tied to your ankles. You wished you could stay, hide under the protection of the blankets and sleep away the hollow feeling that was residing inside you. You showered and dressed yourself with your eyes half-closed, floating through the morning like a phantom of yourself. Toast was the only thing you could choke down, and you had stopped to get an extra large coffee on your way, just to motivate you to make it to lunch.

Your first two appointments were a daze, nothing memorable and a struggle to sit through. When the bands left, you apologized for your lack of energy and made a promise to have their samples ready by the weekend. Secretly, you were grateful they had only booked short sessions rather than an entire day, just so you could have a moment alone. Before lunch, you locked your office door and chipped away at paperwork you had long forgotten about. Once the stack was much less daunting, you did some work on the audio clips patiently waiting in your queue. By the time noon rolled around, you were all but hungry and more than ready for your inevitable return home. Thankfully, the receptionist had taken it upon herself to grab you a sandwich and a coffee when she stepped out. It gave you something to pick away at while the afternoon dragged on.

You were not dependant on Jake. You knew that if a few more days passed, the debilitating loss would resolve into a residual sadness. Sure, you would miss him, but it would be less catastrophic than it felt in that moment. What shook you to your core was not his disappearance, but the lack of communication beforehand. For him to be so involved, certain that you were what he wanted, and then gone without a trace. It gave you whiplash, falling for him so fast and then having to question if he ever existed at all. You wanted him, and it was obvious, but you were not willing to chase after him if he was showing such a blatant lack of interest in you. He had turned you into a complete fool for him, but you were desperate to cling onto your last shred of self-respect.

A knock on your door sounded, making you fight back an eye roll. Apparently, the busy sign that was glowing outside the room was easy to ignore. You stood, removing your headphones and pausing the clip on your laptop. You unlocked the knob, slowly turning it and revealing the disturbance. Your grumpy expression quickly changed once you registered who was on the other side. You stepped out of the way, inviting him in wordlessly. You closed the door behind him as he moved to take a seat on the couch.

“Rockstar finally had some free time in his schedule?” You smiled.

“Was in the neighbourhood, thought I would stop and say hello.” Danny answered, leaning back into the cushions. “Seems like I’m not the only busy one. Receptionist said you weren’t taking any walk-ins.” He chuckled.

“So you charmed your way up here?” You teased, sitting back down in your chair.

“You know me too well.” Your heart warmed at his soft smile. “She’s kind of automated. Told me that as soon as I said your name, recognized me when she finally looked up.” You nodded along with his explanation, agreeing with the observation.

“Yeah, she kind of has to be. People are pushy, we’re a popular spot. Gets her through the day.” You shrugged. “You guys not working today?” You addressed them all as a group, itching to ask about Jake, but knowing it was better not to. He shook his head.

“No, took a day to just relax.” You could tell he was lying. It was always easy to tell when Danny was lying. He wasn’t looking at you, he was fidgeting with the loose thread decorating the ripped fabric of his jeans. You watched him, wanting to catch his eye so you wouldn’t have to verbally pry the truth from him. After a moment, he looked up through his eyelashes, regretting the decision almost immediately. When he met your knowing stare, he cracked immediately. “We were, this morning.” He admitted. “We decided it would be best to take the day and regroup tomorrow. Didn’t get much done.”

“Why not?” You asked, genuinely curious. Usually they worked really well together. In your time of knowing them, they never seemed to lack in the productivity department. He avoided the question at first, unsure of how to answer it. After a while of uncomfortable silence, he shifted in his seat and fully turned to you.

“Jake has been fucking insufferable.” He sighed. Just from the sound of his tone, you could tell he wasn’t there to question you. He was a friend who needed to rant, and his options were limited due to the relations of his band mates. You let out a laugh, finding his blunt words funny. You knew that if Danny was willing to put it like such, Jake must have been horrific to be around. “Have any insight?” He asked, hoping for an answer.

“I haven’t talked to him since we went to brunch.” You admitted. It seemed like once the words left your mouth, it clicked in his brain.

“Your choice, or his?” You shifted under his gaze.

“Him, I think. I haven’t really reached out, either, I guess.” It was a lie; the separation was for certain Jake’s choice, and you had spent the first day blowing up his phone. You thought maybe that you had driven him even further away with your initial inquires.

“So he misses you!” Danny laughed, teasing you almost instantly. Your cheeks burned red, embarrassed at the idea and wishing he would keep his voice down.

“Shut up!” You scolded, but you couldn’t help but feel relief at the idea Jake was suffering, too. “If he misses me so much, he can come and see me!” But your argument was not heard over the sound of his laughter. He was worried there was a blowout, one that had left you both confused and angry. Instead, you were both playing the immature game of ‘who’s going to text first?’ He had to admit, the knowledge did make him feel better, knowing that one of you was bound to give in, and likely very soon.

“You guys are ridiculous!” He said, taking a long breath to calm himself down. Your childish anger was only adding more humour to an already funny situation, fuelling his hysterics even further. “For the love of god, talk to him before he goes crazy. Before he drives all of us crazy.”

“He started it!” You attempted to justify your lack of reaching out. “I tried at first, and he didn’t answer. He can drive himself crazy all he wants, but I’m not chasing after him.” You crossed your arms over your chest, eyebrows furrowed in frustration. Danny shook his head, a grin eating away at his face.

“What are you, five?” He chided. “Please, for my sake, just invite him over or something. I cannot handle him anymore.”

“Is that the only reason you came to see me?” You questioned, trying to change the subject.

“Obviously not!” He defended. “I wanted to see you.”

“Mhm,” you rolled your eyes. “If you’re here to see me, then I would appreciate no further comments on my love life, please.”

“Fine, but if he doesn’t cheer up soon, I’m going to go insane.” He warned, but there was an evident tone of humour in his words. He fell into a silence, thinking hard about how to word his next question. “How’s your Jake-stinence going?” You raised an eyebrow in inquiry, not quite sure what he meant. “Like abstinence… but from Jake. Get it?” You turned towards your desk, eyes landing on a blank sheet of paper. You grabbed it, crumpling it in your fist, and threw it at him. It bounced off his forehead and tumbled into his lap in a graceful manner, resulting in him shooting you a look of shock. “Not good, I take it. You’re as grumpy as he is.”

“I said no talk about you-know-who.” You pointed a finger at him in warning.

“Okay, okay.” He conceded. “He’s been demoted to Voldemort status.” He promised. You both shared a wordless stare, but eventually dissolved into a fit of giggles.

“I missed you.” You finally cracked, shedding the tough exterior. All of the turmoil you had been feeling from the last few days seemed to melt away. Danny had the ability to make even the worst situations seem bright just with his company.

“I missed you too, bug.”

The two of you chatted away, mostly just mindless and lighthearted conversation, but it seemed to satiate the ache that had been permanent for the past few days. You worked away, happy that you didn’t have any more appointments so you didn’t have to worry about cutting the hangout short. Somewhere along the way, you’d even managed to find your appetite. You finished the sandwich your receptionist had so graciously given you. By the time four o’clock rolled around, you were almost completely finished with your work. With your new spark of energy, you figured a little more time would get you ahead of the pile of procrastination you had accumulated.

“I think I need to get going.” Danny sighed, regretful for having to leave. “I think you-know-who’s brother is on his way to my place.” He said as he checked his phone.

“He’s also you-know-who.” You corrected.

“How are we going to tell the difference between them, then? At least call them Thing 1 and Thing 2, or something.”

“That’s the point. We aren’t going to be talking about them, remember?” You reminded him. He gave a slow nod, knowing that you wouldn’t stick to your word. As much as you hated discussing your problems, he always had a way of getting you to talk.

“You leaving soon, too?” You shook your head, motioning to your desk.

“I think I’m gonna stay late. I have a few things I need to get done before the weekend, and I’m feeling up to it, today.” You explained, receiving a nod in return. “Thanks for coming. I always love your company.” You smiled.

“It was my pleasure, bug.” You stood to give him a hug, unable to resist the temptation. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly as a silent apology for not seeing you sooner. You rested your head on his chest, eyes closed in bliss. The comfort you were surrounded in was impenetrable, more than you’d felt since you had your brunch date with him. “Call me if you’re bored later, I’m sure we can find something to do.”

“Sounds good to me.” You said, reluctant to let go. Eventually, you parted with him and bid a small goodbye. Once he disappeared through the door, you collapsed back in your chair.

You took a moment to decompress from the company before turning back to your laptop screen. You knew the rest of the staff would be heading out around four-thirty, so you called down to the front desk to let them know not to wait up for you. You took your phone out, checking to see if Jake had messaged, just in case. When you were met with a blank screen and a sinking feeling in your stomach, you turned on some music to fill the stale air. You worked away, finding your productivity lessen without Danny around. Still, you persevered in hopes that it would distract you from the creeping loneliness that was catching back up to you. The thought of returning home to an empty house was gut-wrenching, and you didn’t want to bother Danny and Sam in fear of intruding. Work seemed like the best option for you, and work you did. It distracted you enough that you almost missed the second disturbance of the day.

A gentle knock sounded on the door, which you thought was quite peculiar. You looked at your clock, noting that it was around the time everyone was headed home. You figured it was either the receptionist stopping by to bid a goodnight, or Danny coming back because he forgot something. You turned to the couch, eyes scouring the cushions to see if there was a forgotten phone or wallet, but there was nothing out of the ordinary. You thought it must be a coworker, as Danny likely would have noticed something was missing long before now. Another knock sounded, a bit more imminent than the last, breaking you out of your internal brooding indefinitely. You weren’t sure why you were stalling; maybe because you had no energy for another social interaction, or perhaps because you were determined to get the work finished. You figured you shouldn’t let whoever it was wait any longer in case it was something important.

You stood, making your way towards the door. Before you could open it, another knock came through. You had to admit, the persistence did strike you as annoying, but you tried not to let it bother you. When the door swung open, revealing the source of the disturbance, you were certain your heart stopped beating for a moment. With wide eyes, you took in the sight, drinking in every detail and finding yourself speechless. Three days was not a long time, but it seemed like an eternity to you. Somehow, in the lesser half of a week, he only seemed to present even more beautifully than he did in the days before. The desire to be with him was unfathomable when he wasn’t accessible, but now that he was within an arms reach, it was tormenting you worse than it ever had.

Jake stood, wordless with a shadow of indignation dancing in his eyes. Simple clothes, just a t-shirt and jeans, with his hair loosely hanging over his shoulders and his sunglasses decorating the neck of the shirt. His simplicity was astounding; it didn’t matter what he was wearing, he was always gorgeous. His cologne was like a punch to the stomach, something you didn’t realize you even missed until it was shoved in your face. It felt like an addiction. You bargained for days that you could go without him, live life without the comfort of his company. The minute he showed up, as soon as he became available, you knew you were lying to yourself. A lifetime without Jake could be enjoyable, sure, but never completely fulfilling. All of the contempt for his actions, the anger you had felt over his disappearance was gone in an instant, replaced with the undying urge to reach out and touch him, for him to touch you.

“Long time no see, Gold Dust Woman.” His tone was flat, the nickname that usually held an air of adoration was cold, now. He was angry, and Danny was correct about that, but he was mad at you. If the reunion went well, you made sure to note that you would never ignore him again, intentional or not. More so than anger him, it seemed to hurt him, and that was something you never wanted to do.

“Jake,” you breathed, still finding yourself unable to move from your position. You wanted to reach out to him, to invite him in, but you couldn’t seem to conjure the strength to do it. That feeling was partially reliant on the idea that he did not want you to. You were caught in a standoff, neither of you wanting to be the first to move, but both of you needing each other more than words could express. Your gaze drifted over his face, features so alluring and inviting. For a split second, his eyes caught yours. It shook you to your core, making you want to fall to your knees and grovel at his feet. In that moment, you would do anything to feel even a fraction of the love in his touch that you had experienced before. Even if it was angry, a shell of what it was the few days prior, it would be worth the world and more.

As if the eye contact sparked the same realization in him, he stepped forward without warning. His hands landed on your hips and he pulled you into a kiss. Your arms shot up, wrapping around his neck and pulling him closer. With one kiss, he managed to silence every worry before it even had a chance to surface. Without breaking apart, you both stepped into the room a bit further. He kicked the door shut behind him, not willing to take the chance of someone interrupting. It was a messy show of desperation, his hands wandering to any available part of you, making up for lost time. When you finally parted, your lips were swollen and you were fighting for air.

“You disappeared,” you stated, chest heaving in attempt to catch up on the lack of oxygen.

“Good observation.” He muttered, not having the heart to ignore you any longer, but it was evident that he wasn’t interested in talking. His hands were already wandering under the hem of your shirt, begging for you to let him slip it over your head. As much as you wanted to deny it, to stop him for a moment to resolve the problem before jumping straight to sex, you couldn’t. The feeling of his hands on your skin was exhilarating, satiating the craving that could only ever be solved by him. You lifted your arms, complying to his request with no hesitation. Once your shirt was discarded, he turned and locked the door, just as a precaution. “Got here just in time. Receptionist was leaving, told me you were still up here.”

“Surprised she let you in.” You responded, feeling the sting of cool air attack your bare skin.

“Didn’t want to. Calling you my girlfriend really persuaded her.” His gruff explanation was paired with the action of him pushing you towards the couch. He said it with such simplicity, like it was a completely normal title and he had no problem announcing it. It made your stomach churn, the knowledge that it was a lie stinging a little more than it should have. You didn’t have time to dwell, because once you reached the sofa, he made quick work at sitting down and pulling you into his lap.

You adjusted easily, straddling him like it was the most natural thing in the world. His fingers snaked around to your back, unclasping your bra and throwing it to the floor alongside your shirt.

“Why the hell were you ignoring me?” You question was followed by a sharp gasp; he’d already buried his face in your chest and pulled one of your nipples into his mouth. The sensation caused an involuntary grind of your hips against him. His actions were only gentle for a moment, the tender care he showed you initially was quickly replaced with his annoyance. Cautiously, he sunk his teeth into the sensitive bud, eliciting a hiss from you. Your grip on his bicep tightened, shocked at the suddenness of his action. You could already tell that his intent was not to cater to you. He was pissed off, so much so that it had taken three days for him to recover enough to punish you for it.

You had no idea that his unanswered calls would get under his skin so badly, and if anything, you thought it was quite childish. Three days of complete silence over a bruised ego seemed a little extreme. Perhaps his frustration was bleeding in to you as well, causing a spark of anger towards him. “Answer me.” You snapped, unable to find a sympathetic bone in your body. The harsh words hit him the same as if you punched him in the face. He broke from you, eyes immediately shooting up to your face. There was a fire blazing behind his pupils, the muscle in his jaw tense with annoyance at your demand.

“Shut up.” He spat, no willingness to answer questions about why he withdrew. His eyes lingered for only a moment before pulling you into another kiss. You could feel the rage radiating from his skin; it was laced within his kiss, bleeding into your mouth and knotting around your throat. The sensation was electrifying, so good that you didn’t even notice that it was killing you. In that moment, you hated him, furious that he refused to tell you why he left, but you were so in love with the feeling of his hands that you couldn’t stop him. You were aching for relief, but it was far beyond sexual gratification. His absence hurt you for reasons much bigger than sex, even if you thought it impossible to communicate it. As much as you wanted to ignore it, to give in to his demands and burning touch, you couldn’t.

“I can’t,” you pulled back, breaking free from his spell. Even as the words came out of your mouth, you wanted to take them back. The temptation of Jake was greater than any other force you’d ever felt before. “I can’t have sex with you unless we talk.” The first wise decision you had made since the beginning had finally surfaced. The lack of malice in your statement struck him differently than your previous comments. For a brief moment, he paused. You had hurt him, undoubtedly, but he finally realized that he had hurt you, too. The defensive nature you had both previously adorned was beginning to crumble away. When he looked into your eyes, his heart ached at the harshness he had greeted you with.

The crack in the wall slowly spread, branching into all directions. The sound was deafening.

Instantaneously, the truth seeped through the weakened defence, settling in your bones and taking over; the game you were playing with each other evolved into something much greater than casual sex. You cared about each other, enough so that whatever happened had caused genuine pain. You were invested enough to be hurt, and now you weren’t sure how to slow down. “We can talk while we fuck.” He bargained, less aggressive than his initial stance. He was still angry, but it had dissipated the moment he saw you. Now that he was touching you, aching to be with you the same way you were, it was residual rather than overwhelming. He didn’t want to admit that his request was due to his need for you, still unable to jump over the barrier limiting him from being vulnerable. He wanted to talk, to work out the situation and go back to the way things were in the first few days, but his need for communication was minimal compared to his need for you.

You couldn’t find a good argument to counter his proposal, so you agreed. Perhaps it wasn’t the best idea, but at the time it seemed right. When you didn’t contest, he shifted below you, keeping one hand on your back for support, and easily laid you down on the couch. You knew that sex in your office was likely not the best place, but you also knew you couldn’t withstand a drive back to your house. You could only hope that the janitors started on the first floor, knowing that you were in for one hell of a ride. He fumbled with the buttons on your jeans, barely warning you before those were on the floor, too. You were left in just your underwear, skin tingling with the frigid air. When he finally took a moment to look over you, exposed underneath him once more, he felt the crushing weight of his adoration for you wash over him, overshadowing any other emotion he was feeling in the moment. His expression almost looked pained, striking a worry within you. In truth, the pain was due to the knowledge in his brain that he could lose you, and he knew just how easy it would be. Missing you had become so difficult that he couldn’t even play into his own game anymore. He couldn’t imagine a lifetime without you if he lost the race.

“You want to talk?” He hummed, breaking out of his internal brooding almost immediately. His voice was low, dangerous almost, like the question in itself was a trap. He leaned down over you, his lips ghosting over your stomach. The light tickle of his mouth sent a shiver down your spine, so unsettling yet still so beautiful all at the same time. “To keep pretending that you don’t know what you did?” A fizzle of panic struck, unsure what he meant by the question. Soon after, regret formed at the memory of his missed calls, the ones that sounded when you were too busy buried in his brother. “I warned you, angel. Being a tease is not how you get what you want. Ignoring me, talking back, not listening…” he trailed off, mouth still barely hovering over you. He’d made it to your navel, his breath tickling the skin just above your panty line. You would be lying if you said you didn’t wish for him to continue. He wasn’t even touching you and you were a mess for him. He brought his mouth to you, a placing gentle kiss to you. It was barely noticeable, but it was the greatest gift he ever could have given you. You had no shame in the shaky breath that escaped your lips, no longer shy about the effect he had on you.

“I’m going to do the talking, and you’re going to listen.” He said, finally looking up at you. At the sight of his face, all of your morals faded away. Any idea of argument was long forgotten, and any need to contest his authority ceased to exist. You were at his disposal, completely under his command and just grateful to have the opportunity. Your pleasure was second to his; you were willing to make up for whatever you had done to hurt him, and if that meant allowing him to do whatever he pleased with you, that was more than alright. Despite his disappearance and his angry exterior, he was still the same Jake you had been lucky enough to experience before. You knew that no matter how upset he was with you, he would take care of you and your comfort. You trusted him more than you cared to admit. “Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir.” You whispered. His hand slowly connected with your cunt, the thin material of your underwear barely diminishing the euphoric feeling of his fingers on you.

“You only speak when I give you permission.” He added, making sure the rule was clear. “Unless you want me to stop or slow down.” He was quick to ensure that was understood. He looked to you, both of you knowing he wanted verbal clarification before he continued.

“Okay, baby.” You promised. The pet name seemed to cause a short-circuit in his brain, almost making him forget what his intentions were. At the sound of such a sweet word he’d been craving to hear for so many days, he considered throwing the act to the side and coddling you, admitting that he was in the wrong for letting his jealousy get in the way. The continual battle of fighting back vulnerability was exhausting, and every time he looked it you it grew harder to withstand.

“That’s my girl.” He broke from your stare, muttering the praise in attempt to distract himself from the internal struggle of wanting to love you and being afraid. His fingers were barely touching you, the pressure against you minimal, but the touch so inviting. “Need to show me that you can behave, angel. So far, you haven’t done a very good job at it.” He explained, eager to get the last piece of clothing off of you, but opting to tease you instead. He found it too easy to give in to you, to give you whatever you wanted, and he was trying to resist it. His anger was still strong, pulsing through his veins, but now it was less so to do with you, and more so due to him allowing himself to wind up in this situation all over again. He swore the last time that he would never allow Sam the chance to steal someone away from him. This time, he was certain that his head start would allow him the upper hand, but somehow his brother had bested him once more. The stakes were too high, the idea of Sam touching you was excruciating, and he feared that his own bruised feelings had given his brother the opportunity he had been so desperate to avoid.

In complete transparency, in the three days he spent away from you, the thought of letting go did surface, but not because he was willing to give you up. It was mostly because he knew the loss of you would be devastating. It was in protection of his own feelings, and ignoring your messages was admittedly one of the hardest things he had ever done. Now that he was with you, touching you, seeing you in the beautiful light that you were always surrounded with, the thought was blasphemous. Jake was in the race until the very end, until you ultimately made the decision yourself. He may have started the game with the belief he was in control, but he now he knew he wasn’t. For a moment, he believed Sam was the master, but that wasn’t true, either. You held the power, even if you didn’t believe it. The choice was yours, and all they could do was pray that it was them who would come out on top. Much like his brother, he adorned the same attitude, knowing that a brief time with you was better than never having you at all, even knowing that it might not be him you chose.

In some sense, you felt like your decision was already made. With his hands on you, his eyes burning into you, and his cologne surrounding you, the choice seemed easy. Your undeniable feelings for him were growing more by the day; his disappearance only solidified that. When Jake was around you, the decision to love him was simple. You wanted to be with him, to be loved by him, and you weren’t sure if it would ever go away. Then again, when he was gone, replaced by the company of Sam, the right thing seemed to be different, to follow your initial path in pursuing Sam. You had no idea what to do, or when to do it. You didn’t want to stay in limbo forever, always bouncing back and fourth and never able to make a decision, but the idea of losing either of them was indescribably painful.

“What are you thinking about, sweetheart?” His words shot through you like a bullet, shattering any doubt. You wanted to be with Jake, and until you had the courage to say it aloud for certain with no fear of doubling back, you would enjoy having him for the time being. You hadn’t been with him for long enough to know for sure, and that’s what you repeated in your head to bargain with your indecision.

“You,” You whispered, and it was the truth. He was all you could think about, all of the time. It was unbearable, but fantastic all the same. His fingers were still dancing over the thin fabric concealing you, giving you a taste of relief but not even close to enough to satisfy. You knew that he was going to push you until you couldn’t think straight, make you forget anything other than his name, and you were okay with it. You missed him so much that you would take anything, even if it were him telling you he hated you. Being hated by Jake was better than being nothing to him.

“Are you telling me the truth?” He asked.

“Of course I am.” You breathed, squirming beneath his heavy stare. You were throbbing, aching for him to stop teasing you and get to the point, but you bit your tongue. If you were to talk back to him, you feared he would get up and leave. You were certain he could tell how turned on you were; he was dragging it out as punishment. He noticed your discomfort, knowing immediately the cause. He could see how badly you wanted him just from your expression, and it was exactly what he was hoping for. A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, the closest thing to a smile he had given you since he showed up.

“Let’s talk, angel.” He said, slowing his movements to a stop. “If you keep telling me the truth, I’ll give you what you want. If you lie to me…” he trailed off, eyes drifting over you as he pondered the best choice of words. “You probably don’t want to find out what will happen.” He said, his smirk growing into a sadistic little smile. You didn’t like the look in his eye, but the temptation of the reward was too large to resist.

“Okay, let’s talk.” You agreed. He settled himself on his knees between your legs, leaning in close to you. He turned his head to the side, placing a few kisses to the inside of your thigh before beginning his tirade.

“You know, it’s not very nice to be a tease,” He pondered aloud, not pointing a question at you, but rather posing the statement in general. “I don’t particularly like it.” The pressure of his thumb increased, giving you small motivation to play into his game. He noticed your sharp intake of breath at the movement, clearly pleased by the sound. “Well, unless I’m the one doing it.”

God, he was insufferable sometimes.

“What were you trying to do that night?” He asked, but spoke again before you could respond. “Calling me dressed like that, ignoring my texts, talking back?” He listed a few of the injustices that you had committed.

“I wanted you to come over.” You let out a gasp as the statement fell from your lips, feeling his fingers finally slip under the fabric. Instead of rewarding you for your answer, he let his thumb hover over the spot you so badly wanted him to touch. The minuscule contact was worse than an itch you couldn’t quite scratch.

“No, I don’t think that’s what you wanted.” He shook his head, watching your face. Every detail was driving you crazy, despite how minor some were. He raised an eyebrow, wanting you to try again.

“Attention.” You admitted, which was the whole truth. Your previous answer was not completely wrong, yet purposely omitted partial truth. “I wanted you to pay attention to me.” With that, he let his thumb trace slow circles into your clit. The small action sent a wave of pleasure through you, causing you to involuntarily arch your back in response.

“That’s it, baby.” He said, the words coming out in a slur. He wanted to keep his composure, but it was difficult watching you in such a state. Your reaction had an effect on him that was much greater than he would care to admit. “You wanted attention?” He asked, making sure that your answer was clear.

“Mhm,” you hummed, eyes fluttering closed in response to his voice. You were sure you could get off from the sound of it alone.

“Did you want it from me, or did you just want someone to take care of you? Didn’t matter who it was?” He asked, his tone shifting slightly. You could tell that his anger was slowly returning the more he spoke.

“I wanted it from you, Jake.” You said, looking to meet his eyes. You meant it, but you weren’t sure he believed it. “That’s why I called you.” Another gasp sounded from you as his thumb pressed into you even further.

“And you got it,” he confirmed “you got exactly what you wanted, didn’t you?” His eyes never left your face, searching for a hint of a lie, almost like he wanted you to try your luck.

“Y-yes,” you stuttered out, feeling him slowly slip a finger into you. It was just enough for you to lose your train of thought, only able to focus on his hands rather than your conversation.

“But you weren’t satisfied with that, were you?” He questioned, voice quiet but firm. His hands felt so good on you that you almost didn’t hear him, too caught up in the pleasure. A moan fell from your lips, but he wasn’t happy about your lack of an answer. He halted his movements, violently pulling you out of the cloud of euphoria. “That wasn’t enough. You wanted more, didn’t you, angel?”

“Yeah, I did.” Your response was immediate, willing to tell him anything he wanted to hear as long as he promised to keep touching you. “I wanted you to come over and fuck me.” He resumed his pace, adding another finger to you to show his appreciation for your honesty. You let out a choked moan, the feeling more intense now that he had stopped and started again.

“I know you did, sweetheart.” He said, a note of fake sympathy ringing from his tone. Had you not known him so well, you’d almost believe it to be true. “Were you a good girl after I hung up? Did you listen to me and touch yourself, take care of yourself because I couldn’t be there with you?” His words were blunt, powerful in their simplicity, and pushing you closer to an orgasm every time he opened his mouth. You didn’t even care that his tone was thick with disrespect, slowly degrading you more every time he spoke. You had no idea where his words were leading to, but you were certainly content with the ignorance in the meantime.

“N-no,” you admitted, but the answer barely come out. You were too distracted by the knot tightening in your belly, pleading with you to let go.

“Of course you didn’t,” he chuckled, but it was not because he found the situation funny. It was a knowing laugh; he’d known the answer to the question long before he asked it, but he wanted to hear you admit it. “You never listen.” He stated, but the snarky comment meant nothing to you. He could see it in your face, the impending climax that you were so desperate for. He was almost willing to give in, to let you have the moment of pleasure, but he wasn’t feeling up to generosities. “You were supposed to do as I said, be good and play with yourself until I could come over. It was simple, but you couldn’t even do that.” He spat.

“M’sorry, Jake.” You whined, but you were too far gone to say it with sincerity. The lack of understanding on your part infuriated him, that you had no idea what he was hinting at, no idea what you had done.

“No, you’re not.” He shook his head, despite you not looking at him. He continued his movements, driving you as close to the edge as he could get you. “You’re not sorry at all.”

“I am,” you pleaded, now fearful that he thought you were lying.

“What did you do instead?” He asked, ignoring your desperate apologies.

“I-I drank, waited for you to come o-over.” You figured the half truth was better than the alternative. You weren’t lying to him, just withholding the full story in hopes to spare his feelings and keep him from pulling away.

“I told you not to lie to me, sweetheart.” He said, the low tone resonating more with a growl. You failed to realize that you were in stalemate; he knew what you had done, and there was no lie or explanation that would lessen the blow of the truth.

“N-not lying, baby.” You breathed, just seconds away from an orgasm. It was getting harder to speak, harder to think. The conversation was of no interest to you, anymore. The only thing you wanted was for him to keep making you feel good, and you were willing to say anything to get it.

“Strike two.” He warned.

“Jake, please, I promise.” You begged. That was his breaking point, no longer able to prompt you to tell the truth. He was fed up, practically radiating with frustration, and long past willing to bargain with you.

“So that’s your story? You waited for me?” He hissed, but his hands remained steady. When you didn’t answer, he chose to do it for you. “I told you to get yourself off, not to call my brother to do it for you.” He spat. Your eyes snapped open, the shock of his words paired with the threat of climax was overwhelming, sending your body into a rigid state. You were frozen, finally understanding that his disappearance was not because of a bruised ego, or anger that you had been ignoring him. He knew Sam was at your house that night, and was painfully aware of what you had done with him. You really had hurt him, but not for the reasons you previously thought. You couldn’t respond, only feeling a strangled cry of pleasure leave your lips as the burning in your stomach seemed to reach its full capacity. Before you could descend into the orgasm, he ripped his hand away from you with a scowl permanently stuck on his lips. If you’d been in your right mind, complaining would not have been your first reaction, but you were delirious after going so long without him. Finally feeling his hands again was enough to drive you insane, and losing them before you could let go was the worst feeling in the world.

“What the fuck?” You hissed, sitting upright in an instant. Normally, the crazed look in his eye would have served as a warning. Today, it was just the same as throwing gasoline on a burning flame.

“That’s what you do when you don’t get your way?” He matched your intensity, both of you fuming with no sign of backing down. “I didn’t get a call, or even a text, so I thought I’d be nice. Thought I pushed you too far, so I dropped everything to come over and take care of you, just to see that you’d already found someone else to do it? It was that easy?” The condescending attitude was infuriating enough that you thought you could reach out and strangle him without a shred of guilt.

“So that’s why you came here? To argue? To show up after three days just to fight with me?” You spat, ready to grab your clothes and kick him out. “You don’t get to be mad at me for something you started!” He reached out, grabbing your face in his hand with little care, silencing you before you could speak again.

“No, I’m not here to argue.” He said, suddenly seeming calm and rational, though the fire in his eyes did not reflect his stature. “Get up, and shut your fucking mouth.” There was no more room for discussion, and you were not willing to contest him. You stood, obliging to the command almost immediately. He stood, too, eyes scanning the room until they inevitably landed on the recording booth, perfectly soundproof and ready to house the main event. He nodded his head towards it, signalling for you to go inside. You wanted to protest, to shake your head in retaliation, but you couldn’t. His authority in that moment was astounding, something that was not a force to be reckoned with. The power imbalance was clear; he was in charge this time, and was in no way willing to compromise.

You shuffled in the direction of his eyes, walking in the booth with him hot on your trail. The sound of the door shutting behind you settled in your bones with the weight of lead, sending dread through every nerve. You had no reason to be scared; you knew he would never hurt you, but you were certain he would not be gentle. You turned to look at him, finding no comfort in the expression that he adorned. “Turn around, hands against the wall.” Was all he said. You obeyed, quickly spinning and taking a step towards the wall. You assumed the position that he requested without a word. Despite the bubble of anxiety in your chest, you were still incredibly turned on and excited for what was in store for you, even if it was a punishment. You felt him approach you, his body radiating warmth despite being fully clothed. Another rush of arousal ran through you, excited by his proximity alone. That was the thing about Jake; he didn’t have to be touching you to be able to keep his spell on you. It was strong enough just simply knowing he existed.

“I’m not here to argue, or fight, or whatever you think.” He said, voice dangerously low. “If I wanted to do that, I would have gotten it over with long before now.” You knew he didn’t want you to answer, so you didn’t. You were in much too deep to risk pissing him off further. You felt his hand ghost over your lower back, the touch soft and inviting. It felt so good that your eyes even fluttered closed, the tension in your shoulders releasing slightly. “Do you remember what I said, earlier?” You chose not to respond in fear of saying the wrong thing. “How I’m going do the talking, and you’re going to listen?”

“Yes,” you whispered, still in love with the feeling of his hand on you. He was being far too sweet for you to believe it was true.

“Good,” he said, the word short and his tone firm. “You remember your colours?”

“Yes,” you repeated, almost robotically.

“Please don’t be scared to tell me, okay?” He said, dropping the gruffness only for a moment.

“Okay,” you whispered, looking back over your shoulder to catch his eye for a moment. You wished you hadn’t, because the softness beneath the rough exterior was almost enough to make you fall in love with him on the spot. He was tempted to smile, to throw his anger to the side and hold you. As upset as he was about the situation, it did not take away his care for you, and the three days he spent away from you were just as terrible for him as they were for you. He knew if he did that, he would be digging his own grave. Instead, he continued on like the sweet second had never happened at all.

“I came here because I wanted to give you the chance to tell me the truth.” He said, your eyes still locked with his. “Told you that I’d take care of you, you’d get what you want, as long as you didn’t lie to me.” His grip on your hip tightened, fingers staring into your skin and showcasing all of the emotion he was holding within him. “Made it easy, but you don’t know how to listen.” He sighed at the end of the sentence, like he almost pitied you for what you were going to endure. “No more chances, baby. We do this my way, now. Understand?”

“I do.” You squeaked.

“I didn’t think that I was asking a lot of you, sweetheart.” He said once your head turned away from him. “Just to be patient, to do what you were told, and you couldn’t even do that for me.” You felt him remove his hand from you. Soon after, you could hear the metal clanging of his belt being unbuckled. Your stomach sank, knowing what would come next, but you couldn’t help but feel the buzz of excitement again. Jake was so phenomenal that even the thought of being reprimanded by him was exhilarating. “You didn’t care who was giving you the attention, angel. You just wanted someone to take care of that ache between your legs. You knew I’d do it right, and that’s why you called me, hmm?”

“Yes, sir.” You felt the cool leather against your backside, threatening to strike at the first wrong word or action. You took a long breath, waiting for his next move.

“Did you think he could take care of you like I do?” The possessive nature of his statement took you as a shock; there had never been a time where you had discussed boundaries, titles, or anything official. It was messy, hookups with no real promise of more but so many buried feelings that it made it near painful for everyone. From all you knew, the competition between the brothers was fierce, but expected. Jealousy was not something you had thought would surface. You pushed the thought away, understanding that Jake had not said anything extremely offhand. You chalked the comment up to his competitive nature, and left it at that. At the same time, you fought to ignore the feeling of delight that came with the thought of being his.

At your silence, the belt raised and came down on your bare ass. It was not nearly as hard as he could have hit you, but it was enough to send a shock through you. The lasting sting was a reminder to answer him in a timely fashion. “No comment?” He taunted. You could hear the smirk in his tone, almost pushing you to test your limits, but you decided it was best not to. “Did you think he could make you feel as good as I do?”

“No, sir.” Now was not the time to tell him you did not call Sam and invite him over, or that when you answered the door, you expected it to be him. He didn’t want to hear that; his feelings were hurt, and he wanted you to fuel his ego.

“Doesn’t seem like he did a very good job, angel. Not a single mark on you.” He noted. You could feel his eyes scanning you, inspecting for any signs of the betrayal littering your skin. The leather of the belt was gently tickling your backside, threatening you with punishment if you did not adhere to the rules. “Did he make you feel good, baby?” His question seemed like one of self-punishment. He would know if you were lying, but the truth was undesirable.

“Y-yes,” you muttered, feeling guilty for even saying that to his face.

“As good as I do?” He asked, his tone more pressing than before. You had no idea how to answer him, because you didn’t know. It was different, and you were unable to compare it to each other because they were both fantastic for different reasons. So, you opted to test your luck and give him the answer he wanted to hear from you.

“No, baby.” You said, trying to sound as confident as possible.

“No?” He asked, questioning your response. You were frustrated with him, unsure of the answer he wanted to hear. He seemed to pick up on every lie without difficulty, leaving you stuck with truth, even if you thought it would do more harm than good.

“I-i don’t know, Jake.” You said, honesty finally showing.

“Then tell me what you do know.” His condescending attitude was insufferable, making you realize that this game was not for any other reason than to shame you for your actions. He wasn’t catering to his own ego, or mending his own wounds. He wanted you to feel embarrassed, regretful for the stunt you pulled and the scene he witnessed. He wanted you to feel the same embarrassment he felt when he showed up only to find that Sam had beat him to it. “What happened that night, angel?”

“I was waiting for you, Jake.” You told him, more truthful than anything else you could have said. “I heard a knock on the door and I thought it was you. I was excited, thought maybe I won the argument for once. When I opened the door, it wasn’t you. I didn’t call Sam, I didn’t invite him over to spite you. He showed up.” You explained, desperate for him to know that you would never do that to him. “I didn’t even know it was him until the door was open.” Jakes movements stuttered, the belt he was taunting you with coming to a halt for a moment. He had misjudged you, and although knowing that you invited Sam inside was painful, his reaction was based off the conclusion that you called Sam when he refused to give in to you. He was mistaken, but in typical Jake fashion, he couldn’t seem to fess up to his wrongdoing. He was in too deep to backtrack, and his contempt for the situation was still too large to ignore.

“But you invited him in, didn’t you?” His voice was softer; you could tell the explanation satiated at least some of the ache he had been feeling.

“I did.” You admitted. If his goal was to make you feel shame, it was working. Perhaps at the time, your guilt was not large enough to derail your desire for sex, but now it made you never want to look at Sam again.

“And you didn’t think that was a bad idea?” He pressed. You could feel him gravitating closer to you, his hips almost pushing into you now. He was dragging this out even longer than he liked, but he continued on, nonetheless. “Didn’t care about anyone’s feelings other than your own?” He snapped, finally outwardly admitting that it had hurt him, even if it was unintentional.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, but it wasn’t enough.

“You’re not sorry, angel. I know you would do it again if I left you here like this.”

“I’m trying to apologize, Jake!” You said, frustrated with his lack of respect for your words. “I know I fucked up, but you didn’t have to disappear like that!” Your attitude was quickly changed when the smack of the belt was felt on your skin again, harder than the last time. Your jaw clenched, teeth grinding together to distract you from the sting.

“Apologize for what?” He hissed. “You keep saying sorry, but you don’t even know what you’re sorry for.” A tear welled up in your eye, still processing the bluntness of the belt. You were frustrated, tired of the back and fourth, and most of all, desperate for him to get off his high horse and fuck you. You were both hurting with no proper way of communicating it. The whole foundation of your relationship was sex; neither of you had a clue how to approach the complex feelings that were beginning to surface. Both of you fell in step with the devil, driven by the premise of each other’s bodies and ignored any thought of emotion. It had only been a week, and the sexual gratification had already grown old, overpowered by the need for something deeper. “Sorry that you were a little whore? That you couldn’t keep your legs closed and wait for me? Or are you just sorry that you didn’t get away with it?” The belt dropped to the floor with a pathetic plop, easily forgotten about in the heat of the moment. You would have turned around on your own accord, faced him with just as much fire had it not been for him doing it for you.

Once you were facing him, fully immersed in his features, you could see that underneath all of his anger, that pain was desperate to be released, begging to be discussed. “It doesn’t matter, angel. I don’t care if you’re sorry.” He looked over your face, noticing the same fire in your eyes. The same pain was there, too. You were both fools to believe that it would magically disappear once you both had an orgasm. He stepped forward, ultimately pushing you back into the wall. You looked up at him, furious but still just as turned on. Sex would not fix the problem, but it certainly would take your mind off of it. “I’m going to fuck that attitude out of you, show you why you should have waited.”

“Do it, then.” You snapped, unable to bite your tongue anymore. “I’m sick of talking. Keep saying you’re going to, but haven’t made a move yet.” His eyes lingered over your face, distaste for your words clearly evident, but he didn’t respond. Instead he freed himself from his pants, in too much of a rush to shut you up to bother fully taking them off. He used his hand to make sure you were firmly against the wall, forgoing caution completely. His hand settled on your thigh, roughly pulling your leg up and around him. He kept his hand there, holding you to him as he bent down slightly, angling himself so he could access you easier.

Once he was lined up, he pushed inside of you without any delay. You let out a sigh of relief, but his face was stony, like he barely noticed the difference. He wasn’t fucking you for pleasure, and he was making that clear. His free hand travelled up to your neck, fingers lightly resting over your throat. “You don’t get to speak to me like that, sweetheart.” He said, hips slowly begging to rock into you. “You don’t get to speak at all, anymore. No more teasing, no more back talk, nothing.” He growled, his fingers tightening further with every word. “If you want to be a whore, you get treated like one. I have no problem with that.” As he finished, you could feel the lack of blood flow begin to wane, your heartbeat strong against the vein he was compressing. The feeling of him inside you was amplified by a million, the airy feeling in your head making it unable to think of anything other than Jake. The only thing you could focus on was the look in his eye, the feral craze of anger peeking through more by the second.

When you thought you couldn’t take any more, the brink of unconsciousness beginning to creep in from the corners of your eyes, his fingers loosened. He awake angry, sure, but never willing to cause you harm. He cared about you far too much to risk hurting you. You drew in a long gasp, feeling the prickle of stars in your vision as you tried to come back to earth. You barely had a moment to recuperate before he began his next series of degradation. “This is what you wanted so badly?” He said, his face growing closer to yours. He rested his forehead on your own, feeling the pressure begin to rise. His irascible front was breaking, slowly melting away the closer he got to you. The gravitational pull you so often felt from him was strong, and he was feeling the same one from you. “You wanted it so bad that you settled for less?” He paused his movements, reaching down for your other leg. With great trust, you allowed him to pick you up and wrap your other leg around him. Your arms snaked around his neck, pulling him in closer.

He was engulfing you like a cloud of smoke, every angle completely obscured by the weight of his existence. Every time you attempted to break free, he was there. He existed in every part of you, every molecule of your body coated with his name and cracking under the pressure of his touch. Jake was everywhere, in everything and never seeming to truly leave. Every corner you turned, every door opened and even when you closed your eyes, he existed somewhere within the darkness. It was unbearable, feeling like every limb was anchored down by the knowledge of what it felt like to be loved by him, but you believed that if you were free, you would float away into nothing. Every small wish that Jake would break the ties with you, that the situation would come to a civil end, the passing thought of how easy it would have been if he never approached at all seemed null. You knew that even if he walked out, somehow withered away into nothing and left you alone with doubt he ever existed, you would never recover from the loss of something so spectacular. You wondered if you never knew the extent of his touch, how groundbreaking it was, if you would have ever realized what you were missing out on. You thought you would have, eventually, because a feeling so exhilarating is something you yearn for infinitely, and the one he gave you was all that, and more.

“I want to hear you say it, angel.” He snarled, his fingers pressing in to you with the same feeling as a blade. It was phenomenal. He was phenomenal, and you never wanted to go so long without him again. He was pulling you down on him with every thrust of his hips. The position seemed so limiting for many, but complemented him so greatly. Everything he did was fantastic, intricate work with lasting impact. You were certain there was nothing Jake could do that would be less than amazing. You were thankful for his idea to move to the recording booth, because the moans that were escaping you were nothing short of pornographic, something you typically would only hear from an actor desperate to pay rent. But you weren’t acting, and it wasn’t a show of apology, or anything of the sorts. You never sugarcoated anything for him; everything shared between you was raw and anything but fake. “Tell me how good it feels.”

“So good, Jake.” You cried, hands gripping for something to hold, to ground you and bring you back to sanity. There was nothing that would give you the relief, and that’s exactly what he wanted. He wanted you to crazy for him, delirious on the idea of him alone and disturbed at the thought of being without him. If he could have his way, you would never even have the chance to think of anyone other than him. “You make me feel so good, baby.”

“Do you think anybody else can do a better job?” He asked, only using your praise as motivation to work harder.

“N-no, Jake.” You shook your head, motion limited due to his head resting on your own. You weren’t lying; in the race of feelings, Sam had a head start. There was no doubt in the minds of any of you about that. In turn, Jake had mastered the art of sex. So much so that he had you at his feet without even touching you, without you even realizing it. You would chase after him for the rest of your life for even a shred of what he was giving you then. Sex with Sam was dripping with love, soft and sweet, echoing with words everybody longs to hear. It was good, great, even. You had no regrets about the night you shared with him, but Jake was otherworldly. It was his charm, his wicked wildcard he pulled when he knew he had to compete for you. If he couldn’t make you fall in love with him within a day, he knew he could stalemate you in lust.

His head buried in the crook of your neck, assaulting the skin with the fervour of a madman, locating all of the sensitive spots like an animal searching for prey. You couldn’t stop yourself from crying out, his name echoing off the walls in an obscene decoration, permanent memories of his generosity etched into the air and settling into the wood. No matter how you tried to excise his presence, you couldn’t stop him from taking over. It didn’t matter where you were or how brief the encounter; from the moment he arrived, Jake owned the place, and it would always be like so. You could feel the pressure building, his body melting into your own in with strange comfort. He was slowly purging any life from you, leeching any energy and keeping it for his own, but it was too late to stop it. Even if you had the opportunity, you weren’t sure you would. To descend into nothing at the hands of Jake was the most compelling thing you could ever imagine, because you would have the opportunity to be with him until the end.

He could feel you tense, your walls clenching around him in a plea for an orgasm. You were desperate, the separation from him had taken more from you than you cared to admit. Even the thought of an orgasm from Jake was blissful all in itself, and you couldn’t hold on any longer. When the steady stream of moans tapered off into choked cries, he knew you were feeling too good to even think of making a sound. He knew how badly you wanted it and he cared for you enough to give you anything, but he was too angry to allow you the satisfaction, to let you believe you were off the hook. When you gripped at the hair on the base of his neck, holding him in preparation for the climax, he stopped completely. For a moment, you failed to realize what had happened. You were too deep into the pleasure to understand that his hips had stopped, and his body was pulling away from you. Once you did, it washed over you in a wave of agony.

Not once did you believe that you would be so desperate for another person to beg. Not in some minor, sexual gratification way, but in a violent, anguished manner. One where you believed if he didn’t give in, you would never survive. For Jake, for the way only he could make you feel, you would, and quite shamelessly at that. You would go to the ends of the earth to find the relief of the orgasm he was so happy to deny you. You were so distraught at the loss of the feeling that you couldn’t even conjure the proper words to express your distaste. Instead, a whine sounded from deep in your chest, one that wasn’t afraid of showing transparency. When he looked to you, you felt like he could see into your soul, pinpoint the very things that made you, you. You were so desperate for him that you had no shame in showing him exactly how you felt about him, and even if it was a wordless show of adoration, he knew.

His issue did not lie within the lack of knowledge about your feelings for him. He was well aware of that by now. Almost as painfully aware as he was about his own feelings for you. All of the emotions running through you, the forces you felt when you were around him, the suffocating weight of the connection was not one sided. He was suffering from the same debilitating realizations as you were. His issue was not with your heart nor your intentions, and much less about his anger, now. In fact, the motivator for his actions no longer coincided with the reasons he showed up at your door. Now, he was driven by his pure enjoyment of seeing you in such a state.

Perhaps the truth of the sadism accusations the two of you grew so fond of had finally found its proper place. It was hanging over his head in a blinding fashion, a horrific branding, almost as if it was always meant to be there. He was no longer proving a point; that was made long before he even shed an article of clothing. Instead, it was replaced by an undying desire to leave you in such a state where the only coherent thought you could form was his name.

“What’s wrong, angel?” He dared ask the question despite knowing exactly why you were upset. “Why are you upset?” His fake sympathy was nothing short of infuriating. You were well aware of your place, now, knowing that if you refused to play into him, you would never get what you wanted.

“Please, Jake. I need you.” You pleaded, hoping for a shred of compassion. “Need you so bad, baby. I can’t take it anymore.” He slowly let you down to your feet, making sure you were steady before taking a step back from you. The scene was pathetic; you were naked, begging for his attention while he stood carelessly, almost completely clothed. Had anyone else attempted to do the same, it would be laughable. Somehow, Jake made the situation seem completely normal, like it was an everyday occurrence that he had a girl begging for him so desperately while he was so careless. And because it was for him, you didn’t seem to see an issue with it, either.

He grabbed your hand, giving you a gentle pull away from the wall. Even though the action was emotionless on his part, you couldn’t help but hope. “You’re only okay with being a whore if you’re getting something from it?” He let out a disapproving tsk, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I don’t know what to do with you, sweetheart.” He said, almost as if he was defeated. “Can’t ever seem to please you, can I? You always want more.”

“Jake, please.” Your attempt was fruitless. He didn’t care what you had to say, and it was blatantly obvious.

“Today’s about teaching you how to care about somebody other than yourself, angel. Gotta learn how to give if you’re ever going to get.” Your eyes fluttered closed, not wanting to show your frustration with him, but finding it impossible not to. “On your knees.” He ordered. Before you even had time to process his words, he snapped again. “Now.” You did as you were told, sinking to the floor in a hurry. Once you were ready for his next advance, you looked up at his face. He was watching you, expression still cold, but a hint of warmth flickered in his eye. It was the most comforting thing you had seen from him all day, and you wished you could hold on to it forever.

Despite your anger, you couldn’t overlook the sight before you. You wanted an orgasm, but pleasuring him was the next best thing. Sometimes, it was even better. One of his hands brushed over your cheek, a brief moment of love before he grabbed your hair in his fist. He was anything but gentle, but you didn’t mind. If allowing him to air his feelings out would mean things could return back to normal, you were happy to oblige. Your mouth was watering at the sight of him, uncaring about anything other than him being inside you again, no matter which way. You were addicted to him, always needing more but never fully satisfied. He was right in saying so, because you knew you could never get enough of him.

“You’re going to be good for me, and then maybe I’ll consider giving you what you want. And don’t you dare try to get yourself off, either.” He was clear about his rules, and you weren’t willing to contest. “I can’t be the only one putting in the effort, baby.” As he spoke, his grip on your hair only tightened. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” You said, barely hearing his words. You were stuck in awe of his beauty, how effortless it was all of the time.

“That’s my girl,” he smiled, but it was a twisted one. He wasn’t pleased at your obedience, but more at the thought of using you as he pleased. “Open.” His command shot through you, immediately springing you into action. As soon as your lips parted, he guided your head towards his cock. He didn’t care for caution, but but remained hyper-aware of your every move, ready to stop the second you showed slight discomfort. He thrusted his hips forward, stripping you of any control. There was no grace period, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat with little warning. You couldn’t help but feel a gag arise, the feeling foreign but not unwelcome.

The feeling of your throat constricting around him was almost too much for him, a groan sounding from his chest. He was driven by pleasure, the feeling of your mouth was something he could never forget. He started at a steady pace, holding your head while his hips did the work. You were barely starting and already struggling to keep up with him, but you were aching to please him. The feeling of him in your mouth and down your throat was overwhelming, but it was fantastic all the same. As tears welled in your eyes, you were worried you wouldn’t be able to give him what you wanted, but the feeling of making him feel good was too wonderful to deny. Giving Jake the same thing he gave you was more than you could ever ask for and all you ever wanted to do.

“That’s it, angel.” His praise was followed by another breathy moan. The sounds he made were certainly better than any other sound in the world. Far superior to any promise of eternal happiness. You wished you could spend every lifetime hearing him speak his songs of pleasure. You couldn’t help but let out a moan yourself, although muffled, just to show him you were happy to serve him. He began moving your head down on him as he thrusted, crazed by the feeling and wanting even more. You tried to steady your breathing, the lack of air giving you a slight sense of panic. You closed your eyes, focused only on him and the sounds he was making. “Look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.” The vulgarity was anything but beautiful, but he had a way of making everything sound gorgeous.

The tears spilled down your cheeks, a mess of mascara littering your skin. You weren’t certain you could keep up with him much longer, but luckily for you, he was getting close to slowing down. He kept his pace for a few moments longer, but the sensation was too much and he willed himself to stop. When he pulled away, you were shocked at the suddenness of his action. A prickle of fear ran through you, worried that you hadn’t done a good enough job. In truth, it was too good. “I should just cum in your mouth and leave you here.” He theorized, his chest heaving a heavy breath as he spoke. “Like you so much better when you can’t fucking talk back.” You blinked away the last few tears that had formed, regaining your composure and catching your breath. You knew it was an act, but you couldn’t help but feel the sting of his words settle all over.

He looked down at you, noticing the state you were in. His eyes softened, always worried about taking it too far. He reached down, thumb swiping away any tears still lingering on your cheeks. Your eyes fluttered closed at the contact, appreciating any bit of affection he was willing to give. “I wouldn’t do that to you, sweetheart. You know that.” You nodded, opting to keep your eyes closed for just a moment longer. “Stand up for me, baby.” He coaxed, tone more gentle than it was before. You did as he asked, slowly rising to your feet. Once you were steady, he guided you back towards the wall. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, taking a good look at his face, now. Somehow even amidst the chaos, he radiated comfort. You were certain he could make the worst of feelings dissolve into nothing. “I’m okay.” He let out a sigh of relief, happy that you were still alright. As much as he enjoyed pushing you, your comfortability with it was his main priority.

“You did so good, angel. Exactly what I wanted.” He said, fingers returning to your cheek for a loving caress. “Not so hard to do what you’re told, is it?”

“No,” you replied, still unwilling to contest his dominance. He leaned in, placing a kiss to your lips. It was sweet, only lasting for a moment before he straightened up once more. Without another word, he sunk to his knees below you. You watched in admiration, wondering if he was really going to be so kind. When he guided your leg over his shoulder, relief flooded through you. You rested your back against the wall, eager for him to advance. His lips trailed over the skin of your thigh, almost too gentle for the occasion. You let your fingers settle in his hair, softly holding him for encouragement.

He seemed to draw out the buildup painfully long, making sure you were quivering with anticipation before he even thought to touch you. Slowly but surely, he connected his mouth with your cunt, his tongue exploring every part of you, savouring the taste of his own hard work. He barely had to do a thing to turn you into a mess again, moans slipping past your lips with every slight moment. You were close to an orgasm just at the thought of his tongue, and feeling him in such a way after so much teasing was phenomenal. His tongue settled on your clit, barely stimulating you at all. Even so, you were more than happy that he allowed you anything at all.

“Fuck, Jake.” You groaned, fingers tightening in his hair. He hummed against you, letting you know how much he loved hearing you say his name like that. “Feels so fucking good.” The words were shaky, filled with every emotion you had been feeling since he arrived. Even if you were desperate for a climax, you were still just as content to enjoy him in the moment. He picked up his pace, the intensity of his actions sending a wave of pleasure through every nerve in your body. You couldn’t help but grind your hips against his mouth, begging for more. His fingers had a firm grasp on you, sure to decorate your thigh with marks to remember him by.

You were already close, the edging from before had ensured you were extremely sensitive. Every stroke of his tongue was like a push closer to the edge. He could tell just by the sound of you, the tremble in your legs, the grasp you had on his hair. It was fuelling his ego, as if it needed to be inflated any further. The muscles in your leg tensed, pulling him in further without even realizing it. Your heartbeat was violent against your ribs, the knot in your belly barely hanging on. Your chest heaved with each breath as you tried to keep up with your need for air. The pleasure was so intense that it was almost hard to breathe. With one particularly whiny moan, he realized he had you right where he wanted you to be. He worked faster, more precise with his movement as he inched you closer to an orgasm. A slur of curses fell from your lips, your forehead glistening with sweat as you prepared for the inevitable peak of pleasure. You couldn’t keep yourself quiet, loudly but wordlessly pleading for him to keep going. Just as you felt your abdomen tense, you were torn out of the clouds and harshly brought back to earth.

He had stopped, pulled away completely and was looking up at you with a smug smile. Between the searing feeling of losing the orgasm and the anger for his attitude, you let out a primal wail through closed teeth, lessening the impact of the sound. You were frustrated, ready to give up and leave to spare yourself from any more disappointment. You couldn’t even bear the thought of looking at him, scared it would shatter the small bit of dignity you had left. Before you had a chance to speak, the crushing feeling was replaced with one of pleasure. He had returned to you, continuing his tirade as if there was never a disturbance in the first place. The suddenness of his actions was giving you whiplash, a false sense of hope for a climax began to bloom once more. A cry of relief sounded as his tongue returned to its previous place, sounding only louder as he brought his hand to you as well. As his mouth made quick work at getting you back to your prior state, he slipped his fingers inside you, pumping them at a steady pace with a slight curl as he entered.

You were in too much bliss to speak, only focused on the heavenly feeling of him touching you. You hated that he made it so easy to forget any ill feelings, so easy to fall into his trap. He was magnificent, every move perfectly calculated with intent to kill. He wanted you to be so immersed in him that you couldn’t stand the thought of another person doing the same things he did to you. He wanted to be the only thing in your mind forever, and it was working. It was impossible to want anything other than Jake, especially when he was right in front of you. You felt guilty, but not on Sam’s behalf. Usually by now you would be mortified by your own actions, haunted by your choices and your inability to learn from your mistakes. This time, the only guilt you had was for letting three days pass without being touched by Jake. It was so good that not even your constant moral dilemma could interfere, this time. Perhaps there was a smidge of guilt for not even thinking of the other boy, but every time it arose, it was abolished in an instant.

It seemed like the longer your entanglement dragged on, the more blurry the line between right and wrong appeared. The dance continued, and your morals cracked under the weight of your step.

He was no stranger to your body, the small time he spent getting to know it was more than what he needed to memorize your likes and dislikes. Getting you to an orgasm was easier than writing his own name; he only needed to do it once to master the process. You could barely keep your thoughts straight, the feeling so intense that it clouded your mind and numbed anything else. You couldn’t even find the energy to worry if he was going to pull away or not. The only thing you cared about was the utmost effort that he was pouring into you. “J-jake, please don’t stop.” You gasped. Your eyes were squeezed shut, every nerve in your body was on fire, you felt like if he let go of you, you would collapse without the support. “God, please, baby. I need it so bad.” For a brief second, you believed your begging was finally working. He seemed intent, no sign of pulling away. His grip was tight on your thigh and he couldn’t help but let his own noises of pleasure escape him every now and again. He seemed more invested in you than you were in him, and that was almost impossible. If he didn’t think there was a need to punish you, he would have spent all night between your legs without a complaint.

A particularly needy cry left your mouth, one soaked in desperation. He knew how badly you wanted it, and he was almost ready to give in. As your leg trembled over his shoulder, the last warning sign before your desired outcome, he came back to reality pulled away again. This time, the guttural sound that tore from your mouth was almost painful to listen to. Tears of frustration prickled at your eyes, and you had to clench your teeth to stop yourself from another protest. He watched you, revelling in the state you were in. It was so enchanting that he couldn’t even look away. To know that he could bring you to such a state was a wonderful feeling, and he wasn’t sure if he could ever let it go. You couldn’t even will yourself to look at him again, but for a much different reason this time. You were afraid that if you did, the tears you wanted to keep hidden would make even more of an appearance. You were exhausted, at your limit, and unsure if you could continue on with his game. You were beginning to believe he wouldn’t let you cum at all, and that thought was deeply unsettling. Although, you were beginning to understand that you had ultimately done the same thing to him, but in a much more hurtful manner.

He rose from his knees, slowly reaching for your face. He wiped away the tears that had fallen, only half-sympathetic to your anguish. “Turn around for me, baby.” He ordered, but the words were soft. You did as you were told, no argument to give. When you were facing the wall, he took hold of your hips. He pulled you back towards him, then pushed your upper half back towards the wall. “Have you had enough?” You could feel him lining himself up with you as he asked. You couldn’t help but push yourself back on him, unable to control yourself. You needed him in the same way a starving man needed nourishment. You needed him in the same way the sun needed the moon, or how the earth needed water. It was primal, something greater than survival, and you needed it right then and there. He couldn’t even utter a word of complaint, the sensation catching him off guard and sending him in the same down-spiral you were stuck in. You were no longer two individuals who were angry, hurting with no way of expressing it. You were one with each other, finally seeming to see the same things and meet on common ground.

“Do you know how badly I wanted this?” He asked, using the strength in his arms to pull you back on him. “How terrible it was to know that somebody else had you like this?” Another harsh thrust sent your head spinning and the moans tumbling from your lips. “To know somebody else’s name was on your lips?” You were delirious from the moment he began to fuck you, drunk off his presence and willing to do anything to keep him like this. “To know that he couldn’t do it right? That he couldn’t give you what I can?”

A cry of pleasure ran through you as he slammed into you again. He moved one hand to your shoulder, holding you steady as he continued his relentless movements. You were on cloud nine, barely breathing and unable to care about anything he was saying.

“Tell me how good it feels, angel. Tell me how much you love it when I fuck you.” He growled, uncaring about the roughness of his grasp on you and completely unaware of the reality of his words. He was begging you, although it didn’t seem like it. He was desperate to hear how much you wanted him, how he was the only one who could do it right. It was a possessive claim, jealousy seeping through every available crack in his persona. He was in the race until the end, willing to fight for you no matter the outcome, but it did not mean he was immune to the pain of knowing there was another person in the race. The stab of knowing someone else got to touch you, to love you like he so badly wanted to. He may have done it to himself, but it did not mean he was blind to any turmoil he had created.

“Feels so good, Jake.” You groaned, the words surrounding him like a blanket of comfort. “You made me feel so good. I missed you so much.” The final part of your statement was like a punch to the stomach. It hit him so brutally that he thought he might keel over from the force. His hand snaked up to your hair, collecting it in his fist and holding it tightly. He guided your head to the side, just enough for him to lean down and kiss you. The act was beautiful, so peaceful amongst the obscene display. You knew you could spend all day kissing him and never need anything else. When he parted from your lips, he remained close to your face, not quite ready to break from the bubble of comfort that surrounded him.

“Have you learned your lesson, yet?” He asked, distancing himself from you just slightly. “Do you know why you should have waited?”

“G-god, yes.” You nodded against the force of his hand holding your head in place. He never broke his momentum, hips still slamming into you relentlessly. It was painfully good, each thrust hitting you with more power every time. You didn’t know if you could hold back your orgasm, this time, especially if he wasn’t willing to stop.

“You know I’m the only one who can make you feel this good, angel. Nobody else can fuck you like this.” Instead of a response, another whine fell from your lips. The pressure in your belly was excruciatingly strong, he could feel it without you even saying anything at all.

“N-nobody else, baby.” You had no guilt in the statement, either, finally crossing the final line between right and wrong. Now, no need seemed more important than the one that was pressing for you to please him. No more guilt for the back and fourth, just enjoyment for the attention you received amidst their fighting. Every moral was blurred, diminishing and lines crossing, melting into each other. You were not a pawn for them to play with, a little piece to their game in which they flaunted for advantage. You were playing, now. Your own strategies and tactics surfacing to throw them off, to make them think before walking blindly. The power was in fact yours, and you were finally able to understand that. The power to hurt, to love, and to end it all in an instant. The sorrow truth was that you weren’t ready for it to be over; you were the only one who could stop it, but you didn’t have the strength to do it. You didn’t know how to do it. The blissful joy of the love they both gave to you was so beautiful that you had no idea how to refuse it.

“You want to cum, angel?” He asked, meaning his words this time. Your mistrust of him was still there, but your hope was that you were wrong in doubting his intentions. He had pushed you far beyond your limits, and you were hoping he could see that, too.

“Y-yes please, sir.” You stuttered, the knot painfully tightening once again. You couldn’t hold back, the need to climax stronger than anything you had ever experienced before. You were tense, vibrating at the thought of him being generous enough to allow it. You knew you were completely at his disposal, but you didn’t seem to care. There was no fight in you, just complete submission to him. The only thing you could do was pray that he had fulfilled his need for punishment, that he believed you were worthy of forgiveness. “Please, Jake. I need it so bad. Please,” you gasped, feeling him reach around your hips. Within an instant, his fingers found your clit and wasted no time tracing small circles into the sensitive area.

The noise that came out of you was inhuman, all of your desperation making a show in the single sound. You could tell it affected his mood; he was practically radiating emotion for you. “You were so good for me, angel." He confessed. You could hear his own internal battle against his own orgasm just through his words. “Come on, baby. Cum for me.” The words were the best thing you could ever hear. Some part of you believed he would never give in, but the permissive statement was too glorious to ignore. Within seconds, you had descended into a mess of words, none really with any significance, but you had no other way to express how good you felt. The slur of curses were decorated with his name, cemented in a few guttural moans to commemorate his excellent performance. You could barely keep yourself standing, your legs were weak, wobbly underneath the weight of you. If not for him holding you up, you were certain the ground below you would be your new home. “That’s it,” he strangled out, affected greatly by your state. “That’s my girl.” The words were like a catalyst for a second orgasm. You weren’t sure if you were stuck in perpetual motion, in limbo with one long, drawn out climax, or if he had sent you into a second before you even had the chance to recover. No matter which it was, you were certain you had never felt like that before in your entire lifetime. If he wasn’t addictive before, you knew you could never escape him, now.

“Did that feel good?” He asked, never slowing his pace. “You feel better now, beautiful?” You managed out a whine that had semblance to an agreement. He wasn’t far behind you, for the first time that evening his movements stuttered, sloppy after a long stretch of tormenting you. As much as you wanted him to feel the same way you had, you didn’t want it to end. You were so crazy for him that you couldn’t stand the thought of stopping.

“So much better.” You assured him, but you had no time to think about your relief. His effect on you was stronger than ever, perhaps because of your withdrawal from him, or just because he was so intoxicating. It only took a moment for another climax to begin creeping up on you. The feeling was intense, almost like it was driving you insane. Partially due to overstimulation, but mostly because of his relentless focus on you. His hand was still working in time with his hips, and he knew exactly what he was doing. The sensation was overwhelming, yes, but he was more so, without a doubt.

“Can you do it again, angel?” He said, a hint of the devil in his eyes. Although you couldn’t see it, you knew him well enough to know it was there.

“I don’t know,” you warned. The feeling was good, no doubt, but it was intense. It felt like it was taking over every nerve, shouting over every thought.

“You can. I know you can.” He encouraged. You knew his encouragement was due to his own inability to hold back any longer. He wanted you to cum with him, and it was not a desire he was willing to debate. Thankfully, as much as you lacked confidence in yourself, you knew with his guidance it would not be difficult to fulfil his wish. You could feel it in your bones, the strength of the orgasm that he was coaxing from you. “Come on, angel.” He pleaded. “Be a good girl for me, I know you can.” He repeated himself, and the consistency was all you needed. If possible, the climax that washed over you was more intense than the one before. Your brain felt as if it was short circuiting, filled only with thoughts about the boy behind your source of pleasure. He was invading every part of your brain, taking over with little effort and making home forever. You held the wall for support, trying to keep yourself steady, but in truth, his hands were the only thing holding you up. Once you surrendered to the pleasure, it didn’t take long for him to follow suit and spill his release into you. The orgasm was extremely overwhelming for both of you, leaving you in a mess of tangled limbs and sweaty bodies. The air was filled with moans and swears, both of you echoing each others names like it was a hymn of love for each other. When you both came down, he was reluctant to move. He wanted to live in that moment forever. He leaned forward, pressing a few delicate kisses into your shoulder. Your eyes fluttered closed at the feeling, wishing you could exist with the softest version of Jake for the rest of your life.

“I’m sorry.” You spoke first, breaking through the silence. “I didn’t want to hurt you. I never want to hurt you.”

“I’m sorry, too.” He admitted to his own wrongdoing with no hesitation. “It wasn’t my place to be upset.”

“No,” You shook your head. “You’re allowed to be upset.” His hand drifted over your bare back, the touch electrifying you in a whole new way. He didn’t want to keep talking about the subject. In his mind, he was over it.

“I like you, Gold Dust Woman.” He said, gently pulling you away from the wall. “A lot.” He carefully maneuvered you into a hug, his arms wrapping around you and his hands settling on your stomach. You felt all of the tension melt away as his chin rested on your shoulder.

“I like you, Jake.” You admitted. You could feel his smile as he placed a kiss to your cheek.

“I was hoping you did.” He hummed, showing no sign of letting go. “I think those were the most beautiful sounds this booth has ever heard.” He noted. “I know they’re the most beautiful ones I’ve ever heard.” You felt a blush dust across your cheek, a small giggle sounding from you. “Maybe next time I should hit that record button, take something home with me.”

“You can take me home, Jacob. Isn’t that better?”

“Better for sure, but I can’t always take you home, angel.” His words were light, but the meaning was heavy. Although the air was clear, the situation was certainly not resolved. Unfortunately for him, it would take a final decision before that wound was healed. “Get dressed, I’m taking you to dinner.” That was his final order, his original doting persona beginning to surface and was bound to stay for the rest of the night.

“Looking like this?” the idea was incredulous to you, but he had no worry in the world about it.

“You’ll still be the prettiest one there.” He placed another kiss to your cheek before carefully removing himself from you. You thought that was impossible, because he would be there. “Now come on, I’ve got lost time to make up for.” He reminded, but you hadn’t forgotten. His disappearance was still haunting you, the hole in your chest not fully closed because you were scared he would leave again. When you turned and looked at him, you realized that was the last thing he wanted to do.

You both left the studio with a bit more pep in your step than before, but it was not quite enough to stop the looming threat of the biggest struggle yet. You both had made up for your mistakes, apologized for the lack of communication and bruised feelings, but it was nothing short of a surface conflict, and the apologies were tiny compared to the lasting wound it left in its wake. You hadn’t really discussed it at all, just expressed your distaste and brushed over the biggest aggressor. Still, that was minuscule in comparison to the bigger picture. Your momentary hurt was only a stepping stone to guide you to the window of truth. The real issue lied within something much deeper; you and Jake had surpassed the threshold of simplicity. You both held the power to hurt each other, now, and the imminent threat of that was much larger than anything else you had ever experienced before.

Did she make you cry?

Make you break down?

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