#and the bottom two aired ten months apart

[dribs-and-drabbles]

The Thai Communal Wardrobe item #16

A Tale of Thousand Stars ep 4:

Vice Versa ep 4:

Our Skyy 2 x Bad Buddy ep 15:

[introloves]

𝐎𝐏𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄

money tied to love shouldn’t feel this good.

old money! gojo x reader + dom! gojo + petnames (angel + princess) + reader gets doted on + reader also gets spoiled with money and gifts + heavy petting + messy sex + kinda public sex + size kink + praise + overstimulation + breeding + frotting + embarrassment + slight, very slight humiliation + slight degradation + squirting + f! reader

— word count; approx 3.2k

gojo knew the promise of his immense amount of wealth was what drew people in. knew that his name carried weight- and the look of his face itself was enough to get him out of most conflict, but it felt different with you.

he knew you were not as interested in the circle of opulence that he was born into- but that didn’t mean you didn't dislike it.

he figured it out ten months in, decided to indulge in a restaurant that had been bought out for the night and settled you right in front of him- sparkling in the dim candlelight with jewels he had dropped off right before picking you up. watching with crescent eyes as you squirmed in your seat, lips pouty and propped open to let just a sliver of warm exhale through before tucking your bottom lip into your teeth. wondering if you knew he could see the subtle shift of your thighs- tugging the satin dress across the swell of your thighs.

“you like it?” satoru wondered, sitting back in his seat while your trembling fingers reached and curled against the stem of the wine glass- knowing you tried so hard to keep an air of nonchalance against his always watching eyes.

“it’s… beautiful.” you finally giggled, letting the sweet liquid inside your mouth- making the already expensive wine look just that much more delicious against your lips.

it pleased him, knowing you were enjoying yourself, knowing how much you fought against his incessant push to throw gifts your direction left and right, a feeling of guilt twisting in your stomach that made you feel like maybe he thought you were using him. but he knew different, the slight frown on your lips when he first gave you a necklace that looked like it could pay for your rent for a couple of years was dropped off at your doorstep with no further pretense or condition to let him know this was different.

he simply thought it would look good on you- and his expenses were explained to no one but him alone as the only heir to his family wealth, it's not like it would make a dent in money that sat there unused and was older than both of you two put together. it looked better draped around your neck, or hugging the curves he could seemingly long for forever, felt better when the simmering heat in your stomach was worn on your cheeks- liked leaning down and feeling the warmth painted on the curve of your face, nearly burning against his lips.

sitting back, he let his knees fall apart- spreading his legs open, crossed his arms over his body to look at you from the glint of his lower lashes. a stance that at first glance would look like it was him getting comfortable, but the way his lips kept a small upturn at the corners- the way he really looked at you felt like there was a crushing weight pinning you down right in front of him. his chin tilting up to ask without a word being said if you felt it too, if the weight of his cock in his silk pants was reciprocated by the thrumming of want nestled between your legs. silence that had you shakily press the crystal back down against the table to bring a hand up and shield another small giggle from your lips, and it took everything in him to not reach over the table and tug your hand away. his own heart thumping heavy in his chest, a lowly mumble of ‘cute’ that sounded mean falling from his lips before keeping quiet once again.

broken only by the sound of the music changing- the slow whine of a sleepy note seeping off into a moving waltz, seemingly snapping out of his stupor for a second- wondering if he could keep his hands to himself for the entirety of the meal. giving you a wink before straightening back up, elbows placed on the table to close the distance just a little bit.

“beautiful, huh.” he repeated, wondering how to proceed with the delicate swing of want that was tipped back and forth between the two.

“how hungry are you, angel?” gojo breathed, sighing something heavy out of his lungs. letting your answer pick for the both of you, eyes caught against the delicate glimmer of diamonds reflected back with every rise and fall of your chest. luring him in even further with just the way you sat there, trying not to groan at the singular thought that he had brought them for you- that it was from his own hand that placed the delicate metal and diamonds fasted against your skin right there. wondering if you would wear his name just as pretty right there.

the question struck a chord in your stomach- tingling with the thought, with the offhand chance that he was just as desperate for you as you were him, food be damned. there were always other nights, and the events leading up to this whole show of glamor and wealth were already way too much for you to bear.

“hungry?” you wondered out loud, “not very hungry.” you shrugged, truthful and shy. knowing you were wanting something else, but finding it hard to really vocalize just what you wanted in fear of reading the signs wrong.

“but it’s not about the food, is it?” you sighed, motioning with a small circle of your hand to the environment you found yourself in- finally letting your finger rest against your newly found tennis necklace resting along your collarbone.

and gojo laughed, knowing you were going to say something in regards to this whole show. because you were right.

“no princess, it's not about the food, but i am a gentleman and thought i'd ask before i do this-” satoru nearly keens before sitting up straight, and with a wave of his hand ushered over the waiter. motioning for the man to lean into him, whispering words lost to you no matter how much you strained to hear before handing him a black card, rimmed with silver trimming. smile still plastered on his face even when he turned to look at you, before finally standing and extending a hand out towards you, bowing his head to avert his eyes to the floor like the so-called ‘gentleman’ he claimed to be.

it made it so easy to lean into the grandeur that he was cloaked in, giggling before letting a hand reach for his arm, traveling up the softness of his button up shirt (with too many of them undone to realistically be called one) before looping your other arm around his bicep, shivering with the feel of muscle taught and so big against your body; expecting him to tug you to the front door, but instead took long steps to the back, dimmed lights only illuminated sparsely by satoru’s request. walking past leather seats and heavy oak counters, his eyes glued to the doors of the bathrooms nestled away in the back even when you tipped your head up to look at him as he tugged you away.

“gojo?” you whispered, even though there was no need to.

“hm?” was all that was responded back to you, hand pushing the door open and finally grabbing you. hands shaky while they pressed against the warm curve of your body, barely letting the door shut closed before leaning down to kiss you, sighing like he was tasting the sweetest thing hed ever had- and with every pass of his tongue against your glossy lips it might as well had been.

rendered speechless, too busy trying to guess where the path of his hand was finally going to land against you, your own hands reaching up to anchor themselves into the fabric of his shirt- fisting the material like it was the only thing keeping you standing.

“satoru!” you cried, in between a kiss that didn’t feel all consuming, letting you think for just a second.

pulling away with the slight urgency to his name, finally paying attention to the way you shook against him, wondering if he took it just a little too far.

picking up your chin with a curled finger on one hand, the other prying your shaking fist from his shirt before kissing the back of it. wondering how you had gotten so sweet.

“angel.” he sighed, finally thinking straight now that the heat he had felt all night was satiated just a tiny bit, finally attentive to what you wanted.

“i dont want kisses.” you breathed, blinking back tears for the sake of the time it took to get ready, wondering if it was any use granted just what you wanted.

“no? ah, baby.” satoru sighed, leaning in to lick your cheek like it was the most normal thing- like it was something to do when trying to soothe someone, ready to apologize, to let you know that he really was a gentleman and there was no excuse for tugging you along for the sake of calming down the throbbing in his pants.

“no, i-i want more.” you finally cried, thankful for the fact that his piercing eyes weren’t staring directly into yours, finding it hard to think when they were pinning you down.

and in a second, it felt like he could finally breathe. tilting his head back to stare at the lights illuminating the bathroom, thankful that they were not generic fluorescent lights- it was much softer, painting you in a color that made you look worth more than anything he could think up.

“more? what’s more, baby. tell me- i’d give you anything.” gojo murmured, shaking with the painted restraint that didn’t come easy, too indulgent, wanting to hear what you had been pining for the whole night. with what he knew you wanted from him, finally letting yourself be indulgent with the grandiosity he could so easily give you.

but it felt too real, all of the courage you had seconds ago wasted away with the way he held you in place- thumb and pointer finger pressed on either side of your face while he leaned down into you, breathing hot and heavy into your open mouth, just waiting for the words like he was going to eat them up. draped in expensive fabric thanks to him, jewelry clasped around your neck and wrists thanks to him, propped up against the cool wall in the restaurant you could never get into by yourself thanks to him. and all you could do in return was cry and shake like a baby against his ever imposing stature. breaking into the mess he wanted you in.

“c-cant. i can’t.” you finally breathed, closing your eyes and letting the tears that had clung so desperately against your lashes fall down your cheeks, nestling against the dip of your cheek his fingers made.

and he shouldn't have felt so good about this, shouldn’t have; so ardently burned with lust at the way you gave it all to him, but he was a creature of lust and opulence- and there wasn’t anything as tempting and delicate as you.

“oh, angel- it’s okay, i’ll take care of it, it’s my fault- isn’t it?” he reassured with a lilting voice that felt like licks of stinging heat against you, letting go of your face in favor of reaching down lower- pressing against the pulse point of your neck instead, making you even dizzier than you had been already.

and he supposes the reason why he liked you like this, dizzy and dependent on him, was because it made it so easy to turn you around- letting you miss his touch for just a second before entangling his fingers against the back of your head and pushing you forward- silently apologizing for his heavy hand before swallowing it all back when your mouth popped open and you whined a sound so raring it made him blink before returning fullforce.

leaning to search for the cheek that hadn't been plastered against the cool marble to bite into the softness there, while his free hand wandered down to the crux of your legs. prying your soaked underwear to the side and sinking just the tips of his fingers against your slit, openly groaning at how hot and wet you were. his cock straining against his pants, throbbing and swelling with every shaky breath you panted, pressing it against the thinly clad curve of your ass, letting his hips rut desperately against you, fingers sinking further into your cunt when the feel of him against you like that had another wave of wetness make a mess right there while he touched you.

“youre so, fucking- wet.” he murmured, making it sound like a complaint, before leaving the grip of your head in favor of reaching down between the two of you- fisting at his cock for just seconds until the heavy press of his body against your own waned in the want and need to have you made him dizzy too. finally letting the heaviness of his swollen cock free, letting it rest against your lower back, nestled like it belonged against the swell of your ass, painting your pretty dress in a messy string of precum.

normally, he'd shown more restraint, would have strung you along until you couldn’t take it anymore and then give it all to you- but the singular thought of you finally basking in what he had to offer, in what came with his name made him already too weak.

“too fucking cute, i really have it all.” he breathed, prying his messy fingers from your cunt before grabbing the equally soaked piece of fabric hiding you away from him and pulling, tugging until the lace and cotton gave way, falling down onto the floor between your feet- not even bothering to move your dress, shifting his hips away from you in order to guide the thickness of his head into your heat. too hard to need a guiding hand, and finally letting out a strained groan when the mushroomed tip of his cock popped inside.

open mouth panting once the initial churn of his stomach went away, heavy balls constricting with the need to dump a heavy load of thick cum inside you.

a slave to this singular thought- chasing it with closed eyes, reaching for it before it left the forefront of his mind. towering body bowing down to meet you, to hiss expletives against your ear, wanting you to know what was racing through his mind the second his cock finally sheathed itself right where it belonged.

“i’ll give it all to you.” gojo whined, hiccuped in desperation while his hips twitched to give you one good thrust, pushing a mirrored sound of utter shock from your own pouty lips.

“the money, clothes, anything you want-“ he grunted, working to lessen the clutch of your tight pussy around his throbbing cock, barely able to move, to fuck you. “you won’t have to work a single day in your life, princess.” satoru murmured, words clipped short, his pet names for you spat between gritted teeth when his hips finally found a frantic rhythm, balls slapping against your clit so hard it felt like pads of fingertips tapping the swollen bud there- only further adding onto the searing pleasure.

trying so hard not to completely collapse, your hands found his forearms, wrapped tightly around your stomach to keep you there- close and unmoving while he humped away, letting you know in his own way to let go, he had you in the midst of dirty, filthy words.

“just give me a baby, yeah?” gojo finally breathed. pitching forward to nestle his nose into the space between your shoulder blades, arms keeping you so close you could hardly breathe.

the singular sentence making you dizzy, thighs squeezing together in the sudden heat wracking your body at the implication of it all- at the fact that you wanted it more than anything.

knees snapping shut, barely keeping any weight of your body against your toes, putting all your faith in his arms before seizing up. stomach clenching so hard it ran on the precipice of hurting, cunt closing down around his dick so hard he fought to keep it inside- knowing that’s where it belonged. wishing more than anything he could turn you around to see you cum, wanting to watch your pretty eyes roll and head tip back- but the sharp sound of liquid splashing down along the glistening floor was enough.

an exasperated laugh knocking the wind out of him with the realization that you just came all over the front of his expensive pants and the floor.

head tilting back to laugh out against the vacant room, wondering why you were so cute, why even in the midst of cumming you mewled and pleaded with him to cum inside- pushing past the overwhelming exhaustion from it all.

and it only takes seconds longer for satoru to oblige, wanting to do right by his part- to give you anything you wanted, finally pressing against the curve of your ass, shivering with the final constrict of his stomach before relenting.

cock swelling, spilling inside of you with a fervor that makes him loose any semblance of composure he has left, letting himself picture you tied to his side, happy and content- smiling and asking him for things he’s more than happy to oblige with, wanting you to be selfish and greedy with him, just like he is you.

“ah, messy.” he finally breathes, like it’s your fault- snickering when you whine and throw back a mean look at him, smile bitten back just a little when the final pulse of his cock hits him. trying to let the lowly groans simmering in the back of his throat lessen just a little, wishing he didn’t have to leave you, wanting to stay in the heat of your creamed cunt, dick surrounded by the mess he made there.

but the shake in your legs doesn’t let up- and he knows you’re tired, and with a small sigh, he leans down and kisses your cheek sweetly, sliding his spent cock out and furrowing his eyebrows at the wetness coating it, a pearlescent string of mixed cum falling down onto his already ruined pants- huffing with just the slightest tinge of pride.

reaching to gently shift the crumbled up seat of your dress down back where it belonged, seeing the ruined state your attire was in too- rolling his shoulders back to soothe the strain of being bent down around you just a little.

“satoru.” you whine like he wasn’t already doing everything for you, but you couldn’t help it- he’d made you like this, always wanting more.

and he comes down like the singular ring from his name from your lips pulled him itself- pressing kiss after kiss along your heated cheek, shushing whines when he lets you try and stand by yourself, wanting to make it home to properly give you everything.

smiling like he wasn’t about to pull you out of the bathroom with cum soaked thighs and expensive silk that made everything shine so elegantly despite what was wetting the material- but he only assured you it was okay. there was no one here after all, he’d paid everyone out to sit in the back and enjoy a break on him.

further stoked by the way you simmered even more at the realization that with money like his, he could do anything.

he could do anything for you.

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

Hi!! Can i request a hurt/comfort hotch x reader?

Reader is starting to feel lonely in the relationship cause for the past 2 months hotch has only been home for a week total and she really misses him. They haven’t had time to themselves cause even when hotch is in virginia he’s in the office and him getting called out on a case during his day off happens more often than the both of them want to. and even when they text and call it’s not the same.

anyway hotch comes home in the middle of the night after a case and he just finds reader on the sofa crying cause she just really misses her boyfriend and the two of them finally talk about it.

You have permission to break my heart with the angst and put it back together. I know its long and i have no clue if it made sense so im sorry😭😭 enjoy your day💕

༉‧₊˚. 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐟𝐭 || 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

― pairing: aaron hotchner x plus size!reader

― summary: you knew that being with aaron meant that his job came first, you just hadn't realized how badly it would actually affect you. now, your life and love is on the line.

― warnings: ANGST ANGST ANGST!!! you have been warned!, thoughts of breaking up, established relationship, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, hints of depression.

― wc: 905

⋆ a/n: my first long fic back being angst LMAOOOO. i'm not going to lie, writing this kind of bummed me out a bit but that's how i knew it was going to be good LOL. but never fear, i got a few smutty things in the works, so keep a silly little eye out for that!! i love you guys so so much and thank you for your request!

masterlist | AO3

The room felt melancholic. Empty. 

The sounds of laughter that had once bounced off of the walls of your home now rang silently, one of the only people that knew of the joy that once made your house a home was long gone on a case right now.

You don’t know what to do. How could you last like this? How could your relationship? How could Jack?

Jack, the precious little boy that you had taken under your wing even before you and Aaron had ever made it official. You knew he missed his father dearly, but with every large life milestone the boy had completed, Aaron had missed out on. It had gotten to the point where Jack doesn’t bother to ask you if he could call his dad to tell him about it, because nine times out of ten, he knew that Aaron wouldn’t answer.

So now as you sit here on the couch in the dark with your head in your hands, you can’t help but think that maybe this was it, that it was time to consider the very dreaded other option. 

You tried your best to make your relationship with Aaron work, God did you try, but having to sit there and endure weeks of radio silence, of not knowing whether or not he was alive was excruciating. When he did have time to text or call you, every conversation was more and more distant. 

Hot tears rolled down your cheeks, and your bottom lip trembled. You crossed your arms and placed them on your knees where you leaned on them, staring out into the abyss of your dimly lit living room. You had just put Jack to sleep, and you didn’t want to risk waking him up.

Your eyes solemnly scaled the walls where the pictures of your little family hung, frames upon frames of happy smiling faces. 

What happened?

It was the fact you were absolutely drowning in your thoughts that you didn’t hear your front door unlock – something that your boyfriend would deeply frown upon. 

Aaron wasn’t surprised to find the apartment quiet, what he was surprised to find was your silhouette illuminated by a single lamp. What really set off the alarms in his brain was your shivering shoulders, which could only mean one thing.

“Sweetheart?” His deep voice pierced the thin air hovering above you. You just shook your head, any happiness that would have left your mouth died in your throat, the words leaving you was, “We have to talk.”

You hated doing this, but who’s to say he won’t get called in tomorrow? No, you had to do this now.

Aaron felt his heart fall into his stomach as he made his way over towards you, gently sitting down on the cushion next to yours, almost as if he was afraid to scare you.

“Of course. Are you okay?” He inquired in concern. You just shook your head again. “This isn’t working, Aaron.” The pain lacing your voice was unmissable. “What?” He’s completely caught off guard, because this was the last thing he’d expected to come home to.

“I can’t do this anymore… unless – unless we can figure something out but even then I-” He rushes to grab your hand, and it lays limp and cold in his warm and calloused one. “Honey please, what’s wrong? Tell me what I can do.” Holy shit, he’s panicking. 

“You’re never here anymore! I - I can’t remember the last time in the past two months that we’ve been able to have any alone time together! Most of the time you’re either gone in a whole different state or stuck in the office!” You couldn’t stop the word vomit from leaving, all kinds of emotions that had been kept dormant finally coming up to the surface.

You heaved out a deep breath, your body slumping in defeat. “Did you know that Jack learned how to ride a bike today?” You asked quietly. “No.” Aaron gulped, “I didn’t.”

A heavy silence settled between the two of you.

“What do you need me to do?” Finally, you looked at him.

There were unshed tears in your eyes, “What I want you to do, you can’t make it happen.” His eyebrows furrowed. “You want me to quit my job?”

“No,” You said with a disbelieving laugh. “I just want you to be there.”

“Who says I can’t do that?” His head tilts, his eyes boring into yours, desperately trying to read you. It was like his profiler skills didn’t exist. “Every time you’ve had a day off you’ve been called into the office one way or another.” Your tone is hopeless, like your situation can’t be helped. 

With a harsh squeeze of your eyelids, the tears began to fall, but Aaron was quick to swipe them away.

“Honey, look at me,” He cups the side of your cheek, his thumb brushing away the liquid. Hesitantly you did, and you instantly fell victim to the warmness of his irises. “I will fix this, because I am not losing you. My behavior has been completely unacceptable, and I swear that I will be here for you and Jack more consistently, I promise.”

“How do I know if this won’t happen again?

“I’ll make sure of it.” 

It was the finality in his voice that fizzled out the anxiety in your gut, setting your nerves at ease.

“Don’t make me regret this, Hotchner.”

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @alixwriter @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus

[loveshotzz]

All I Really Want Is You

older!neighbor!widower! steve x fem!reader chap ten/ten - a slow burn series of blurbs -

Baby, I’m Yours

summary: A sleepless night brings you back to where it all began.

wc: 8k

warnings: 18+ for the softest of smut.

author’s note: I know we still have the epilogue but I can’t believe we’re actually here at the end of their story. Thank you to all of you that spent your summer reading about Steve and his Tough Girl, this has been such a journey for me as a writer with a lot of challenges but I’m so thankful I did it. Truly writing about these two and talking about it with you guys was the highlight of my summer. From the bottom of my heart, thank you 🧡

🌇 <- chapter nine

The Masterlist / The Playlist / The Tune:

Beginning of August

Steve had been gone for a week and a half and it felt more like a lifetime to you, but it wasn’t for the lack of communication. If Steve wasn’t calling you he was texting you, sending you pictures of his lunch no matter how lame you told him it was. By day three you were sending him a picture of your own with a loud sigh and a roll of your eyes. His enthusiastic response of ‘That looks good baby!!’  had made you squirm in your seat with hot cheeks huffing the word “pathetic” to yourself, but that didn’t stop you from doing it again the next day. 

It was FaceTime calls of Peach telling Steve to turn the camera around, always too busy looking at you and telling you how pretty you are to notice his was pointed towards a wall. Or the one time it was pointed at Eddie who sat in front of him making a suggestive ‘cumming’ face to tease him, the camera flipped immediately when he heard you giggle. Steve scolded his cackling friend with an ‘honestly, I hate you’ before taking you to another room, apologizing profusely with blush visible on his cheeks.

It was the small bits of time in between text messages and phone calls that made it drag. The quiet evenings without Bandit’s excited bark from the front yard, the low simmer that’s always in your gut from the possibility of running into him any time you come and go, is gone with the man and his dog. It’s just enough time for seeds of doubt to creep in. The newness, the anxiety of it all.

The bright red numbers on the clock above your stove read 2:13am - three days until Steve gets home and tonight you can’t sleep. Quietly thanking whatever gods there are for your day off tomorrow, well - today. 

Your apartment smells like Clorox, lavender, and lemon. The wood floors sparkling just like your kitchen countertops. Cleaning everything you could touch has kept you busy, but it doesn’t make you any more tired than when you’d started. Your intrusive thoughts and daydreams are going a mile a minute:you didn’t get your usual good night call from him. The rational side of you knows that one missed phone call doesn’t mean anything, but the irrational side decided you don’t  need to rest.

The full trash bag next to your front door taunts you, just like the promise you made Steve about taking it out late at night months ago. The fact that it’s the last thing left to do makes it that much harder to walk away from. Gnawing at the side of your cheek you decide not to, he’s not even home to catch you.

The moon’s blue glow illuminates your path while the skyline of the city sparkles below it. The tall buildings shimmer in a way that takes attention from the stars in the cloudless night sky. You can feel how the humidity hangs less thick in the air the more August rolls in. The thin material of your tank top does nothing against the light breeze that makes the bottom of your sleep shorts tickle the tops of your thighs. There’s a chill that didn’t exist before and it makes goosebumps dot across your skin.

Your slides scrape along the gravel from your refusal to fully pick your feet up, and it fights with the sounds of the late Friday night in the distance. You hum a made up tune as the streetlight buzzes above, lifting the lid you jump when you hear someone clear their throat behind you. 

“I thought I told you not to take your trash out in the middle of the night, especially alone, tough girl.” Steve’s voice erupts everything that’s laid dormant inside of you for the past week. Butterflies start to flutter until they’re fighting against your rib cage to get out and your cheeks hurt from how hard you’re smiling before you’ve even turned around.

“Well,” You sigh, dropping your bag in the trash can, “the guy I was supposed to call if I needed anything ditched me for his out of state boyfriend.” Shrugging when you finally let yourself look at him, the view rivals the one that shines bright behind him.

His hair is messy in a way that isn’t purposeful this time, but he looks just as handsome as any other day. The stubble on his jaw is thicker, but not quite like the night he waited at your doorstep, and god, do you want to feel it against your skin. His big arms sit crossed over a broad chest that’s only covered in a gray tank top. The thick patch of hair always half way on display threatens to touch the base of his neck, the bottom of his silver chain disappearing inside of it. 

His freckles are darker now, easier to find from all the sun he got while he was gone and you’re jealous of the hands that got to rub sunscreen on them, even if they were his own. The black basketball shorts on his legs stop in the middle of his thighs, it makes you bite at your lip.The greens and golds in his eyes light a match under your skin with the way he stares at you  — like he couldn’t possibly look away even if he tried.

“My out of state boyfriend huh?” He grins, tightening his hold on his own bag before his Nike slide covered feet crunch against the gravel towards you. His eyes catch the dainty silver still hanging around your neck, the stone shining in the moonlight, and it makes his heart swell. Tossing his trash in after yours, he meets your gaze down the slope of his nose, arching a brow. “What does that make you then?”

He smells like bergamot and cedar, a lingering hint of the cigar he probably smoked in New York still clinging to his hair. The heat coming off his body makes your fingertips buzz, twitching with the need to reach out and just touch him. 

“I dunno, what does that make me, Steve?” It comes out shy, a little above a whisper, a question just for him.

He hums, a low sound that vibrates from deep in his chest while his fingers come up to toy with the stone that dangles just above the dip of your breasts. The tips of them tickling rough against your soft skin. 

“What do you want?” His confident demeanor falters when he asks just as quiet, all the miles and days without seeing each other are affecting him too. He doesn’t tell you that’s part of the reason he booked an early flight home on your day off. 

“I want you.” You don’t hesitate when you say it, no pauses for even a second to think of what you want to say. Your hand comes up to wrap around his wrist, the muscles under your palm dance from your simple touch. He wonders if you can feel his pulse.

“You already have me.” He almost wants to laugh until he still sees the same shared doubt  in your eyes. “Haven’t I made that obvious?”

He tugs at your necklace as a reminder, a smile breaking across your face because of it and all he wants to do is kiss you now. Especially when he drops the stone to grab your hand, and after taking just a few steps, you reach up to touch it again — a silent, constant reminder of his confession as you walk towards the wooden gates.

“Wait, why didn’t you tell me you were coming back early?” You pout a little, looking up at him when he stops you both at your backyard. 

“I landed a few hours ago,” He chuckles, his hands finding your hips to pull you to his chest, in love with the way you stand on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck like it’s natural, like it’s second nature to want him close. “I was actually going to surprise you in the morning with breakfast after I picked up Bandit from Nance’s.” 

“Oh yeah?” You grin at the thought of Steve showing up at your front door, that messy head of hair shoved into a baseball cap.

He nudges his nose against yours, the spearmint of his toothpaste fanning cool across your cheeks while your fingers curl into the soft hair at the base of his neck. Tilting your chin so your lips just barely touch, you silently beg him to close the gap. 

“Yeah,” He breathes, hazel eyes clocking the way your lashes flutter against the top of your cheeks. He almost feels bad for teasing, especially when you give his hair a gentle, coaxing tug. “But someone wanted to risk their lives for the sake of taking out the trash. So, surprise, pretty girl, I’m home.” 

His words make your breath catch, and you want to tell him he feels like home more than your real one ever did. Your heart thumps wildly in your chest when his top lip whispers against your still slightly pouted bottom one. You tug at his roots a little harder this time, needier, and you swear a whine tightens at the back of your throat threatening to come out if he doesn’t give you what you want. Please, kiss me.

“Well, good thing you were here to save me.” You giggle against his mouth, and it makes his hands squeeze at your sides a little tighter, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. The tip of your nose pushes against the rough stubble on his cheek, “Besides, I missed you, I wouldn’t have wanted to wait ‘til the morning.”

“God, honey. You have no idea how much I missed you.” His face crumples a little at the thought, almost like he forgot for a second you were right in front of him, but when you somehow pull yourself closer, he doesn’t waste anymore time.

The wood is rough when your back hits the gate at the same time his lips finally crash into yours. A week of longing comes out with a sigh. The metal hinges and lock clank loudly together while he steals the breath from your lungs. He coaxes your mouth open with a swipe from his impatient tongue, groaning when you grant him access. You taste just as sweet as he remembers, and he promises himself he’ll never go a day without it again — not if he can help it.  

Your hands get greedy in his hair, bigger handfuls, harsher tugs while your body stays flush against his as he keeps you pinned to the door. It’s all tongue and teeth for a minute, both of you losing yourselves in it for longer than you should. It’s not until a car honks, signaling to any bikers around that it’s popping out of the alley, breaking you two apart. 

Chest heaving and lips swollen, all you want is more.

He laughs to himself pressing his forehead against yours with the kind of smile that makes your knees weak. The tip of his nose touches yours; he’s all wild hair and love sick eyes. You don’t want to be without him tonight. Or ever.

“Come sleepover?”

The question comes out before you can stop it, before you can really register what that invitation might mean for both of you. His eyes widen before they search your face for any kind of regret, his tongue wetting his lips when he doesn’t find it. You twist strands of his honey hair between your fingers, nervously waiting for his response. 

“We - we don’t have to do anything. I just wanna be with you.” You finally whisper, your nerves getting the best of you. He can’t believe you think he’d actually say no.

“Let me shower and get the airport off of me, and then I’d love nothing more than to spend the rest of the night with you baby.” He steals another kiss from your smiling lips, letting you take another one for yourself, groaning at the nip of your teeth on his bottom lip before he finally lets you go. 

Opening the gate for you, he grabs your wrist pulling you back for one more, relishing in the giggle it earns him before he whispers that he’ll be back in fifteen minutes.

It feels like your heart is trying to escape through your chest as you try not to check the time on your phone. Strategically placed candles are the only light in your living room and kitchen, while a dimmed bedside lamp in your room gleams a dark orange with your wax melter. It feels like your apartment is glowing, but it does nothing to relax the nerves that course through your veins as you pace the small space of your room trying to shake them before his inevitable arrival.

Knock, knock, knock

They are quieter than his normal ones, but they make you jump just the same. You shake your hands out, taking a deep breath before you pad barefoot to your front door. You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth to try and contain the smile that always grows the first time you lay your eyes on him and his lopsided grin.

“Hey baby.” He greets you in the kind of voice that makes the dough of your thighs press.

His damp hair is pushed back, from what looks like a few quick hands in the mirror. A simple white shirt replaces the tank top from before, fitting loosely across his shoulders, and a soft looking pair of gray cotton shorts cover the tops of his thighs this time. He’s wearing a tan pair of moccasin slippers on his feet that you’ve never seen, and for some reason his exposed ankles make the heat rise to your cheeks while the fresh scent of his pine body wash threatens to take over your senses.

“Hi handsome.” It’s dripping in sugar the way you say it, sweet off your tongue just for him as you open the door wider.

He thinks your apartment smells like peaches and the ocean when you close it behind him. It smells just like you and he feels surrounded by it, intoxicated with it, the way he always wants to be. You watch him take in your apartment like he missed it too, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth when he notices you just cleaned it. He bites back his remark when his eyes meet yours, he can’t bring himself to say it when you’re staring at him from under your lashes with your back pressed to the door all shy like that.

“Don’t be shy, honey,” he extends a big hand out for you to take with soft eyes, “we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” copying your line from outside, he wiggles his fingers a little with a smile warmer than the glow of the candles that dance shadows across his sharp jaw and cheek bones, “I just wanna lay with you.”

You don’t hesitate to slip your palm into his, your heart racing when you watch his fingers wrap around you with ease. He pulls you into him, colliding in a mix of  forest and the beach. He keeps a hold of your hand, cupping your cheek with his other one. The pad of his thumb traces over the heated skin, paying extra attention to the soft bag under your eye. You needed sleep.

“Just me and you, that’s all I want, okay?” He reassures you in a voice lower than a whisper. His heart swells when you nod with big glassy eyes, your hand coming to rest on the top of his so you can lean deeper into his touch.Steve’s hazel eyes look to yours, he tilts his head a little bit closer in a silent ask for permission, you push up on your tiptoes to meet him halfway.

He kisses you differently than how he did in the alley, differently than the Fourth of July and the baseball game. He’s gentle, like he’s taking his time with you because he actually has it now, like he’s sure of it. He doesn’t try to deepen it even when they move together like this is what they were always meant to be doing, not even when your top lip catches a little dirty with his bottom. He wants to remember this moment, commit it to memory so that he never forgets what this feels like with you. He kisses you like this until the need for oxygen becomes too much and your feet start to hurt from standing in place for too long.

“Let’s go lay down.” You whisper between bated breaths that mingle with his, your chests heave as he gives you the kind of toothy grin that makes the butterflies wake up again, nodding with a squeeze of your hand.

The hum of A/C and the sounds of your breathing are the only things that can be heard in the low light of your room. Steve’s body lays pressed on top of yours, making himself comfortable between your legs. His head rests on your sternum with a cheek against the soft curve of your tummy. His big hands hold tight to your sides, caging you in – it feels like he’s everywhere and you wouldn’t have it any other way. The weight of him relaxes you into the feathers of your pillows.

Your fingers keep themselves busy buried deep in the thickness of his hair. Still a little damp at the roots, you massage the part of his scalp you know was resting on the hard cushion of the airplane seat, earning you a deep groan that vibrates between your legs. He feels the way they try to close because of it, the sharp intake of breath that you try to hide.

He’d be lying if he said his own body wasn’t reacting being this close to you, especially when the pads of his thumbs caress under the swell of your breasts and there’s no wire of a bra to be found. His eyes roll back as the blunt ends of your nails start to scratch lightly near the nape of his neck, making his fingers squeeze you at the sensation. His face nuzzles deeper into the softness of your stomach, inhaling. You feel the prickle of his stubble through the thin material of your tank top and it makes you giggle. 

Steve doesn’t know how he lasted as long as he did this past week without you. 

He pushes the bottom of your tank top up and tries not to stare at the supple skin exposed to him before blowing a raspberry. It earns an even louder giggle, making your legs bend at the knees, trapping him in between your thighs.

“Steve!” You sound annoyed but the smile on your face gives you away when you go to cover your eyes with the back of your hand. 

“What baby?” He smirks against your skin and feels the way it makes you squirm with a subtle roll of your hips, he’s not even sure you noticed that you did it.

“No…”Your voice trails off when he pushes your shirt up a little higher, his lips getting bolder, addicted to the way you heat up for him with every soft kiss, “No raspberries.” You finally manage, making him chuckle. But that doesn’t stop him continuing on his path.

“I promise I’ll be nice, m’sorry” He mumbles an apology against your skin, basking in the goosebumps it earns him.

He sits back on his knees, thumbs hooking into the bottom of your tank. His eyes meet yours from underneath his lashes and he wishes he could take a picture of the way you look right now.

“Is this okay?” He asks just to make sure, and the nod of your head with heavy lids is enough for him to press a wet kiss on your sternum before pulling the rest of the offending fabric off, throwing it somewhere on your floor. 

Steve forgets how to breathe the moment his eyes land on you, soft curves just begging for his touch. He can’t help himself when he runs his palms up your sides making your nipples pebble when the pads of his thumbs meet the bottom swell of your breasts. You wonder if he can feel the wings under your rib cage.

“God - honey,” Steve’s words get lost on his tongue when you stare up at him with eyes blown out like his, it makes him run a hand down his face like he can’t believe you’re real. “I’m lucky to just be lookin’ at you.”

His praise makes a shy smile push up your cheeks, his own teeth shining in a grin because of it.

“I wanna look at you too.” You whine a little, reaching down between your legs to tug at the cotton of his shirt with a pout.

“Yeah?” Steve asks, bending back down to hover over you. His nose nudges against your cheek before his lips brush yours, smirking when you nod a little desperate against his mouth.

The kiss he gives you lingers, lighting a fire inside of you, the kind that burns at your fingertips, consuming you like it’s wild and it makes you realize it’s never going to be enough. You’re never going to get enough of the man who looks at you like you hung the stars in his sky, like you were the sun that broke through the rain clouds that followed him around. 

His fingers curl at the hem of his shirt, and it feels like he’s moving in slow motion when he pulls it over his head, adding it to the already growing pile on the floor. His muscles twitch under your gaze, his own nerves finally catching up to him when he realizes just how long it’s been since he’s been with someone like this. Pink dusts his cheeks but he doesn’t look away, not when he sees the way your eyes glaze over at the sight. The dark thatch of hair in the middle of his chest looks soft to the touch from his late night shower and it makes your fingers twitch to touch him. 

The silver of his chain gleams like yours in the moonlight that leaks through your curtains and it makes his skin look like it glows. You give in, running your fingertips through the thick happy trail that’s surrounded by another collection of freckles and moles that you feel the need to kiss and you catch the shudder that runs through him because of it.

“You’re so handsome, Steve.” It comes out a little breathless, and it makes the tips of his ears turn pink.

“Thank you, angel.” He tries to hide his bashfulness in a grin and a hand through his hair, bending back down to press a kiss to your collarbone so you don’t see his smile.

He starts a path up your neck, nipping at sensitive skin along the way to your lips, his own butterflies being spurred on by the whimper it earns him. He hovers over you searching your face for any indication to stop but he’s only met with the kind of look in your eyes that almost has him say it.

 ‘I love you’.

He tries to show you by slotting his lips against yours in a hot breath, like a key to its lock. The bed dips on either side of your head when he goes from his palms to his forearms, chest to chest he wonders if you can feel his heart beating just for you tonight.

The feeling of his skin against yours makes every inch of you feel like a livewire, both of you moaning into the kiss like you’ve waited too long for this. Tongues collide messily when he rolls his hips with a purpose. The pointed pressure on your bundle of nerves, has you keening into him. Your hands slide up his chest through the patch of hair you’d been dreaming about for months, before wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him even closer. Addicted to the way his hard muscles flex against your soft skin.

Box springs squeak when he lets go of all of his weight, it feels like he’s everywhere and it makes your head spin. Your fingers find their way back into the soft hair at the nape of his neck as you fight for dominance with his lips, trying to convey everything you’re feeling right now because words just won’t work.

Pushing your hips up to meet his in a slow grind, the thin material of his shorts does nothing to hide just how big he really is and it makes everything turn sloppy, teeth scraping together with silk between your fingers tugging at his roots a little mean. He smiles when he pulls away to catch his breath, keeping his forehead pressed to yours. His eyes are as black as the night outside that threatens to give away to the sun in just a few hours, they look at you like he can’t believe you’re real, memorizing every detail of your face like you might disappear if he blinks.

“So pretty.” He murmurs before littering kisses down your body, some sweet and some with a nip of his teeth. 

His eyes meet yours in a silent question of ‘is this okay?’, long fingers curling around the elastic band. Tucking your bottom lip between your teeth to hide your shy smile. You nod with a little too much excitement making him smirk before pressing a sweet kiss on the top of your hip, running his nose along the soft your tummy doing it again to the other side.

You hold your breath when he pulls them down your thighs, the tips of his fingers gliding down the sides of your legs as he goes, lips tugging up when you squirm a little because of it. A low groan vibrates from his chest when he realizes you aren’t wearing underwear, glistening with your arousal in the dim light. You’re so wet and all he’s done is kiss you. 

“Baby, baby, baby.” He mutters awestruck by the sight.

A little embarrassed at your body’s reaction, his praise makes your legs try to snap shut but he stops you with a gentle hand on the inside of your knee, spreading them again.

“You’re beautiful, please don’t hide from me.” He begs, taking all of you in again. “So, so, so beautiful, honey.”

His fingers wrap around your ankle, pulling your leg up enough for his lips to kiss the soft skin right above the round bone, his nose skims up your calf to press another one, relishing in the giggle he gets as he keeps on his path to what he really wants. You squeal when he nips at the inside of your knee and you can feel his smirk against your goosebumps. 

Once his kisses get to your thigh, he settles between your legs with his chest to the mattress. It’s hard to remember your own name when he looks up at you through his lashes like that. He hooks your knee over his broad shoulder, his lips dragging a little dirty across your heated skin. He can taste the watermelon that still lingers from his favorite lotion. You were going to be the death of him.

He meets your eyes when he gets high enough for your thigh and hip to connect. Close enough to smell how sweet you are worked up just for him. 

“Can I taste you?” He skims his nose up the plush inside of your thigh when he asks, his eyelids growing heavy just basking in being close to you like this. You could say no, and this would be enough for him but the way you’re already dripping on your sheets makes him insatiable. “You want that?”

You want that?

He watches how your eyes glaze over at his question, the intensity of his gaze makes you want to hide, he was so handsome looking up at you like this. Too bashful to actually say yes, you nod again.

“Can you say it for me?” He squeezes your hip, the pad of his thumb rubbing circles to soothe your nerves like his own weren’t boiling under the surface of his confident demeanor like a volcano ready to explode. 

What if he wasn’t good at this anymore?

“Y- yes, I want you to taste me, handsome you can do whatever you want to me.” The breathy giggle that bubbles passed your lips makes him grin lopsided just how you like, a smugness that wasn’t there before smoldering like a fire in his eyes.

“Yeah? Fuck - Honey, I dream about this.” He groans when he pulls himself closer, the tip of his nose running up your slick folds making you shudder, fingers already tangling in your sheets. “You want me to show you how much I missed you?”

He doesn’t tell you that he’s started to always miss you when you aren’t around.

He accepts your nod this time, your teeth threatening to make your bottom lip bleed when he settles your other leg over his shoulder too, nothing holding him back from you anymore. He takes all of you in with a greedy eyes, his pink tongue darling out to lick his lips when he sees just how much you want this too.

Nothing can prepare you for the first swipe of his flattened tongue between your slick folds, the tip of it catching your clit with just enough pressure for the grip on your sheets to tighten. The butterflies in your rib cage feel like they make their escape in the gasp you let out, his low hum of approval making your toes curl when he does it again. 

“So fucking sweet baby, god of course you are.” 

He doesn’t waste anymore time testing the waters, his self doubt gone with his self control when your hips roll up asking for more. Steve knows now he’ll never say no to you and he’s not shy with the way he buries his face in your pussy. His tongue laps up everything you give him, like he’s hungry with his nose pressed to your bundle of nerves with enough pressure to make your back arch. 

“Ohmygod - Steve.” The moan you let out makes his cock twitch, your fingers reaching down to tangle themselves in his hair, shamelessly pulling him closer. You were better than his dreams.

Your thighs snap closed around his ears after he stops the greedy strokes of his tongue in the tightness of your entrance for his lips to wrap your clit. He sucks with the kind of force that makes your eyes hit the back of your head. His eyebrows marry together when he closes his eyes like you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. One of hands leaves the dough of your thighs for his thick index finger to take his tongue's place, collecting the slick from between your folds before pushing one knuckle in. 

It makes you gasp a little breathy as your hips push up for more, and he gives it to you, pushing two more knuckles in and you already feel so full. Your walls constrict, fluttering around his single digit like it’s a stretch and he wonders how you’re going to be able to take him. His own hips rut into the mattress in search of some kind of relief while he sets a steady pace between his mouth and his wrist that has you clenching like you’re about to unravel. 

“You close baby? Wanna show me how good it feels?” His question comes out sloppy against your mound, all the color in his eyes is gone meeting yours from between your legs blown wide. When he adds a second finger, it slides in with ease making your eyes hit the back of your head, a low moan bubbling past your lips. Your toes curl with his fingers, jaw going slack with his name in your mouth like a prayer and he’s scared you’re going to make him cum in his pants again. 

“Just like that, fuck - right there - Steve, Steve, Steeeeeve!” The fingers that are tangled in his hair tug rough, your thighs clamping down hard around his head while your body tries to squirm away to run from the intensity of it all, the stubble on his jaw rubbing you raw when he moves his head from side to side drinking in everything you give him.

His hand on your hip locks you in place while you come undone on his tongue and he swears you taste just like sugar when he buries his face in deeper till you whine, pushing on his forehead to stop, overstimulation winning. Heat floods your cheeks when you see the shine from your slick covering the bottom of his lopsided grin when he finally looks up at you.

“So pretty like this,” He mumbles, pressing a kiss to the inside of your shaking thigh. 

You cover your face with your hands, the intensity of your first orgasm and the intimacy of it all overwhelms you, the tightness in your chest threatens to become unbearable. The three words sitting at the tip of your tongue beg to come out from between your lips. 

Not yet.

He trails sticky kisses up your stomach, making sure to pay special attention to the swell of your breasts, pulling them both together in his big hands to give them equal treatment. Shining lips wrap around your sensitive nipples and it's enough for a new wave of arousal to blossom deep inside your belly, a subtle rock of your hips meeting his when he rolls one between his teeth. Insatiable, just like him.

“Steve,” His name comes out around a sigh, your fingers running up his freckled back before tangling themselves in his hair again, addicted to the softness of it.

“Mmm, tell me what you want.” He looks up at you from under thick lashes, lids heavy, and eyes glossy. He’s wrecked.

“You.” The answer is just as simple as it was outside, it's all you’ve ever wanted. You realize that now. The universe bringing you here to this moment with him. This was it.

“Baby,” he looks at you like he means it, like his whole heart is in your hands now and it has been since the day you moved in he just didn’t know it yet, “I’m yours.”

He moves back up your body, leaving wet kisses across sweat slicked skin making sure to suck at the sensitive spot he found just above your collarbone, smiling when you gasp. He’s not expecting to feel your lips against his jaw, bold and sure of themselves by the time they get to the corner of his mouth, dainty fingers pulling his chin down to collect your kiss.

Your lips move like you can finally relax, like you’re home now and he can feel your heartbeat against his chest. This didn’t feel like just sex.

Your hands run down his sides, grinning into his mouth when he chuckles as the tips of your fingers brush against his ribs, you keep that information locked away another time as you hook them in the elastic band of his shorts. His tongue licks a little dirty into your mouth when you start to pull them down his hips, helping you get them to his knees before kicking them off entirely. The length of him feels heavy against your stomach, and it makes you break away from the kiss but his lips stay attached to you.

Your cheek, your jaw, your neck, anywhere he can reach. 

The view makes your breath hitch and get stuck in the back of your throat, walls fluttering around nothing when you see just how big he really is. He’s too busy trying to find new places to make you gasp and all you wanna do is look at him.

“Steve” his name comes out around the gasp he was trying so hard to get by sucking a little bruise behind your ear.

He hums against your skin with his eyes closed, drowning in you. Love drunk off of it. The slow sleepiness from the day creeping in as his body molds to the warmth of you.

“I wanna look at you, too.” Your request is quiet against the rough stubble that fades into his neck, and you feel his Adam’s apple bob against your lips.

“Yeah?”  His voice is hoarse, nose nudging against your jaw when he brings his gaze back to yours, a smile pulls up the apples of his cheeks, crinkling small lines under his eyes.

“Yeah.” You don’t nod this time.

He holds your eyes in his, needing you to know there’s a double meaning in his words when he brings his palm to your cheek, the pad of his thumb tracing the high bone. 

“Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.”

The mattress bounces when Steve flops next to you on his back, the two of you barely fitting on your queen size with his broad shoulders and long legs. He catches the way your eyes grow big when you sit up on your knees and finally get to see all of him. He reaches out for you, sensing your hesitation at his size

“C’mere, baby, we’ll go slow.”

Heat blooms between your legs when you take his hand, your knees finding a home on either side of his hips. He’s thicker than you’d imagined all those nights with your fingers between your thighs. The big vein running up the length of him protrudes like it’s working overtime, while beads of pearly white smear against the rough patch of hair just below his belly button from his light pink tip. Wrapping his hand around the base, he gives himself a pump to relieve some of the ache from seeing you sitting on top of him like this. Soft curves on display in the moonlight, he can’t wait to see them when it breaks daylight.

“Fuck,” He sighs when you settle above him, “you look gorgeous.”

His words make your confidence peak, your hands finding themselves flat against his chest, the blunt ends of your nails drag through the hair there and you spot another cluster of freckles you hadn’t seen before, you wonder if he’ll let you find them all.

“Look who’s talkin’” You tease, making him laugh as you lean up to steal a kiss. The motion has the length of him slide easily between your slick folds, his tip catching your clit before popping out.

“Jesus Christ.” He sighs against your mouth that’s formed in a silent ‘o’,  rolling his back up in search for more.

“Steve - you’re so - “ The last of your sentence is stolen by a gasp when you grind down to meet his thrust, the tip of him prodding your entrance before gliding up with just the right amount of pressure to make you both moan. 

“I’m so what?” He asks a little smug, arms circling the curve of your waist to pull you closer, dragging you over the length of him again, it makes you shudder in his grasp. 

He catches against where you beg for more of him, fluttering around the tip, your walls try to suck him in. A low growl rumbles from his chest when he tries to fit a little more. It’s your hips that roll, and it's just enough for him to push all the way in with a little resistance.

“Goddd,” You whine, feeling the fullest you’ve ever been, your walls stinging, desperately trying to accommodate his size. A low huff exhales through your nose when you sit up straight, letting your nails drag over the beauty marks that litter his stomach before finishing your sentence, “so big.” 

“Yeah, but look at you takin’ it.” He groans with pinched brows, eyes transfixed on where he disappears inside of you. Arousal coating the thick thatch of hair that frames him, wetting his lips as he watches the way you grind your clit against it letting him fill you to the hilt. “So good for me baby, so beautiful, - fuck! - so gorgeous.”

His praise has you clenching around him, your mouth falling open when you feel him twitch because of it. His big hands find the tops of your thighs, the pads of his fingers leaving fires in their wake while making their way to your hips. He squeezes softly when he gets there, guiding your lazy thrusts before searching for your hands. 

You watch him intertwine your fingers with curious eyes, his gaze transfixed on yours as he holds them at your sides, rolling his hips up to push even deeper.

“Oh god,” He does it again only this time if feels like there’s nowhere else for him to fit and it makes your eyes screw shut, “ohmyfuckinggod - Steeeve!” 

“Right there? Yeah? Is that it?” He grunts trying to repeat it and your hands squeeze his in an iron grip. “Come on baby, I need to see you.”

It’s hard to open your eyes, the slow drag of his cock against your slick walls is almost overwhelming. Connected to him in a way that is going to change you forever. The pad of his thumb rubs soft on the top of your hand, bringing you back to him. 

“You’re eyes are too pretty to be keepin’ them from me.” He smiles when you finally meet his gaze and it’s enough to punch the air out of your lungs. 

“I love you.” The three words slip past your kiss bitten lips before you can even think long enough to stop them and it makes everything come to a standstill. 

“What’d you just say?” Steve’s voice is quiet, something unrecognizable in his tone that makes all your nerves come back like they never left.

“I - I -“ the harsh sting of rejection is written all over your face and the feeling of you trying to untangle your hands snaps him back to reality. To you.

“Hey, hey, hey, no honey.” He doesn’t let you go, squeezing till his knuckles turn white “I just wanted to make sure I heard you right, because I’ve been wanting to say that to you since the fourth of July.”

You light up for him in a way he’s never seen before and he thinks this is the most beautiful you’ve ever been. 

“Really?” You whisper a little shy, your own smile becoming uncontainable. 

He lets your hands go to wrap his arms back around your waist, sitting up as he pulls you with him on his lap. Chest to chest with his back against your headboard, you’re even closer to him like this. The new position has him impossibly deep, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix making you keen pretty. 

“Yeah, really.” He sighs, wishing he had gotten  to say it first. 

One arm keeps you close while the other wraps around your back, the warmth of his palm spreading wide across it. The stray hair that you missed more than you realized falls over his forehead and there’s nothing stopping you from pushing it back. Fingernails dragging through his soft hair, making his eyes close until he feels the slow drag of your hips spurring him on. 

He doesn’t hesitate to pick up the pace, especially when your arms wrap around his neck and he feels your hardened nipples against chest. The new angle has his thrusts hitting the spot inside of you no one else has ever been able to find, the one you almost didn’t think existed. The tip of him catches it again and again.

The sound of your slick fills the quiet of your room, growing louder with every roll of your hips that connect with his. The light sheen of sweat that coats both of you has you sliding against his thighs, the cool air from the A/C doing nothing as the two of you get lost like this. 

Your second orgasm builds at the same time your body starts to slump against his, your muscles screaming at you for a break. 

“Getting close, huh?” He asks, with a forehead pressed to yours, lips teasing but never touching with each thrust.

All you can do is nod, your eyes not daring to leave his again. He wouldn’t let you even if you tried, a hazel forest turned night, you never wanted to leave the depths of them. 

“So good for me, let go pretty baby, I got you. Let me do all the work.” He picks up his pace, pushing deeper in with every roll of his hips, feeling the way you squeeze around him while your body starts to shake, the high you’d been chasing threatening to take you. 

Holding your gaze, the hand on your back slides up the dip of your spine, curling around the back of your neck. He closes the last bit of space, pulling you to his lips. It’s sloppy and sweet, neither one of you trying to deepen it, just enjoying the way you move together like it was supposed to be like this forever. 

“Fuck- I love you so much it scares me.” Steve admits when he pulls away, his confession is the last straw that sends you over the edge. Tears stinging the corners of your eyes when you cum hard around him for the second time.

Your fingers tangle his hair, crashing your lips into his with tear stained cheeks and he can feel everything you put inside of it just for him. It’s enough to finally let himself unravel for the first time in years with a loud moan and his face buried in your neck. 

It warms deep in your gut when he spills inside of you, his body trembling with the intensity of it all. Your thighs shake clinging to him, both of you too scared to let go in the irrational fear that you’ll just wake up from a really good dream. You can feel the wetness of his tears against your skin, your nails finding their way to his scalp. He hums against you when you kiss his temple, nuzzling deeper until you feel his lips against the underside of your jaw.

The two of you sit there like this in a mess of tangled limbs. Sweet kisses and even sweeter words all spoken just barely above a whisper until he’s soft enough to slide out on his own. He takes his time cleaning you up after with giant hands that treat you like glass. 

It’s like muscle memory the way he pulls you to his chest under the covers, like this isn’t your first sleepover. The tip of his nose runs along the length of yours with shining eyes and an even brighter smile, kissing you softly with another whispered “you’re so beautiful”.

Streams of sunshine break through your blinds when the two of you finally settle in, buried deep in his arms surrounded by the lingering scent of pine and him, the sounds of his even breathing are enough for you to give into your heavy lids. 

It’s only when you’re on the verge of dreams you’re sure will be filled with him that you hear it:

“I love you, tough girl.”

🌇 -> epilogue

beta’d by @chechelia & dividers by @chechelia

(thank you for everything cece ♥️ and a special thank you to @superblysubpar for betaing the first half of this series, i love you both dearly. & also @carolmunson for always talking to me about our boys, and helping me make this world a little bigger ♥️ ily)

[macfrog]

wish you were here | one shot

thank you lovely anon for this gorgeous request which felt like a huge mug of hot chocolate and a pair of socks fresh from the dryer to write. i hope you enjoy.

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader

summary: you and joel skip jackson’s annual holiday party in favor of some alone time. (not that kind you filthy animals it’s the HOLIDAYS)

warnings: fluff lmao, thirty-year age gap and u can stay mad, set around the holidays but no mention of christmas etc, nothing but love and two hints of sex. that's all. oh and no guitars were harmed in the making of this - joel canonically goes and gets the guitar after the fic ends. dw.

word count: 1.9k 

main masterlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 🤎

Jackson is alive with a thrumming heartbeat. Pulsing through the air, bumping gently against the quick-lying snow and filling the otherwise silent night. A steady, rhythmic heartbeat.  

A heartbeat which sounds a lot like Blue Monday, but a heartbeat nonetheless.

The holiday party is in full swing down in the Tipsy Bison. Seven o’clock ‘til late! on flyers plastered all over the commune for the last month. Tommy had tried relentlessly to convince Joel this morning on patrol – It’ll be a good night; You oughta come along, show face at least. At the same time, Maria was on your back about it in the stables.

Y’all hardly come to anything fun, she’d argued.

We come to stuff.

When’s the last time you came to anythin’?

We were – we were at Mike’s birthday dinner.

What – five months ago?

We like alone time.

Alone time? You’re never apart from one another.

Alone time – together.

Neither attempt had been successful. Tommy and Maria had exchanged a disheartened glance as the two brothers passed their horses to you on their return. Joel clipped your cheek, took his gloves off and fixed them onto your frozen hands before making off for home, a proud grin on his face. You’d held your own as well as he had: you two had a clear evening ahead.

He had lit and nurtured a fire, had made himself a coffee and heaped half a damn bag of tiny marshmallows into a hot chocolate for you, but when he’d come through to take his place on the couch, you were already stood out front.

It’s bitter out – a soft breeze, but a thick chill on its wings. The sky a washed gray, heavy clouds overhead. He slips outside, setting the mugs down on the table, and slings a blanket over your shoulders. Kisses the curve of your neck, scruff of his beard tickling your skin.

‘s freezing, pretty bird.

Then keep me warm, you whisper, turning into his arms. He steps back, settling into his chair, flicking his fingers for you to fall down into his wide lap.

You curl up against his torso, your head hooked beneath his jaw. Wonder how drunk Tommy is by now. What is it – nine?

His wrist lifts, moonlight gleaming in the reflection of his broken watch face. Just gone ten. I bet he’s on his ass already.

You giggle into his shirt, breathing in the scent of the pine trees, the smoke from stoking the fire inside, the bite of hot coffee. The echo of voices swelling in merry song turns your attention down the street – two figures hooked onto one another, stumbling through the powdered snow. Some slurred rendition of September melting into All Night Long before the smaller of the two tugs their partner off into a darkened house.

Joel laughs to himself, the bristle of his beard catching on your hair as he shakes his head.

You ask him softly, Will you play me something?

His breath soars, a cloud hot and pale white, past your temple and up into the pastel sky. Gets swallowed somewhere overhead by the wash of warmth from the porch light. He turns his mug until the owl faces the street, the bottom gnawing against the wooden armrest of his chair.

I’m serious.

What do you wanna hear?

That one you’re always practicin’. The plucking one.

Another rumble between your shoulder blades. His chest jolts with a solid laugh. The pluckin’ one.

You know the one.

I know the one.

Will you play it, if I go get the guitar?

Baby, his lungs nudge on your back as they fill, it’s late. We’ll wake the neighbors.

Everyone’s at the dance. C’mon.

And he can’t argue with that. The entire street lies dark, vacant. Yours is the only house with soft-glowing eyes, the muted orange of the fire flickering behind closed blinds. Two figures, tangled in a chair on the dim front porch; a hunting jacket around his shoulders, and his body around yours.

You tug on the blanket, wrapping it around your elbows as you stand. Just once. Play me it once.

Joel’s looking up at you, setting his mug down on the table. Play you it as many times as you want, pretty bird. Just – quietly.

There’s a spring in your step that drags another chuckle from Joel’s lips: the kind that drips like honey down your throat and warms the pit of your stomach – a sweet, comforting thing, a sound you swear was made purposefully for you. Divine and deliberate.

Like – all of him. Like the shape of your name in his mouth, the curl of his tongue as the sound surfs over it. Like the curve of his hand and the way yours so neatly molds into it.

The way it did the day he found you, crouched in the gray backroom of some butchers deep in the city, and took you all the way back to Jackson. Let you cling to him on the back of his horse; your weak arms around his waist, anchored by the heavy jacket he’d thrown over your back. Your ear between his shoulder blades. And that was that.

Fifty-six. One brown-turned-silver hair away from thirty years your senior. He still remembers before. Talks about movies, talks about computers. Talks about Sarah, when the sun hits the wall at a certain angle and he reckons he could see her standing right there, the soft shadow of her hair dark against the golden wall. When you make a joke and he laughs a ghostly sort of laugh, like he’s hearing the echo of her voice make the same quip three decades ago. He always says she would’ve loved you; you like to think he’s right.

He found you: a lonely little broken heart, and he pulled you to your feet with a rough palm against your own. Hands calloused only from years spent carving wood and pressing the hard strings of his guitar into the fretboard, and nothing else. No violence and no bloodshed; no survival or threat. Music, and patience, and kindness.

And maybe you found him, too, in the same sort of way: roughened up, awkward and messy stitches holding him together. Maybe the two of you nursed one another back to life; each brush of your hands in the dining hall and each meaningful glance while out on patrol sewing those wounds up a little tighter, a little safer.

He sits forward when you hold the instrument out, sweeping a broad palm down the slope of the body. Pinches the pegs one by one, twisting them while his thumb taps on each string.

Come here, he says, beckoning you forward with a flick of his chin. He taps on the seam of his jeans, widens his legs for you to curl up between them at his feet – the way you always do.

Your elbows hook over his thigh, ear pressed against the inside of his knee. Staring up, blinking slowly, eyes glazed with the cold and with the light and with love.

He plucks gently, slow at first. Letting the strings snap with a twang, vibrating enough that you feel the small rattle in your jaw. Your eyes fall closed, head rocking with the light tap of his heel on the porch. When you peer at him through your lashes, he’s watching the skilled movements of his fingers intently; as if he’s as much a spectator as you are – his body doing all of the thinking and working for him.

 So, he sings, and your stomach melts to a puddle, so you think you can tell –

Your eyes close again, the low rumble of his voice crisp in your ears. Like thunder, like the promise of something great and mighty. Something moving, something rolling and changing the landscape of your body, your mind and your soul. The lines between living and dying begin to blur, the seam tearing between this plain and the next.

Did they get you to trade – your lips parting to whisper the words with him – your heroes for ghosts?

His thumbnail dragging down the strings, his strong fingers flitting between chords. Like he was made to sit here, in the dead of night, and carve a space in the world for himself and his voice and for you – lain in the safe scope of his body, protected by his breadth and brawn and lulled by his sweet song.

His breadth and brawn – the parts of him which have kept him standing here. His skeleton, his muscle. But the thing that keeps you warm at night, buried side by side under a threadbare woolen sheet together, the thing that you link your arms around as he leads you home from the nights you dare to visit the Tipsy Bison: are his heart, his flesh, the gray-singed hair which falls in a featherlight wave over his forehead. The hair you sweep from his eyes when he’s on top of you, his hips cradled in yours, that all-encompassing feeling of every part of him filling every part of you.

It all feels that way. The warmth of him, the feeling of being wrapped around him. Hooked around his body, bones intertwined. Absorbing one another, his words breathing life into yours, slowly growing louder and braver with each pluck and strum of music.

We’re just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year.

Your makeups entangling, ribcages locking together, flesh meeting flesh and hair twisting until one day, Tommy will come looking for his brother and find the two of you here on your porch, your arms still draped over Joel’s thigh and his fingers still mid-song. Stuck, alone, together.

What have we found? Joel looks down to you as though asking the question – his eyebrows raised – and you reply, a dumb smile across your lips, The same old fears, and then, together –

Wish you were here.

He plays until his fingers must start to hurt, the way he clenches and loosens his fist. Setting the guitar against your chair, hands hooking under your arms to pull you back up to him.

That one your favorite? he asks, the cold tip of his nose circling yours.

You nod. Only when you sing it.

I like the way we sound together.

You smile, shrinking into his chest again, your fingers surfing back and forth on the worn shirt. I like the way we do a lot of things together.

His hands slip beneath the fabric of your shirt, massaging your waist. He dots a trail of light, damp kisses along your forehead, dipping to your temple, the angle of your cheek until your jaw lifts and his lips are against yours, his tongue parting to lick purposefully at yours.

I love you, pretty bird, he whispers, the words falling sweet and fair on your tongue.

You take a moment to let them seep into your skin. ‘s the first time you’ve ever said that, you tell him.

Joel smiles. He knows. But you knew it already, he counters.

You know, too. Mhm.

Alright, he groans, slipping his hands under your thighs and hoisting you up to his height, bedtime.

It’s only ten, you complain, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders as he carries you inside. It’s too early to sleep – Joel.

Didn’t say we were goin’ to sleep, he mumbles, kicking the door shut.

[withwritersblock]

I Miss You

~I Miss You by Adele~

Author's Note: This song is so good and I only just recently found out it existed. Italics are flashbacks Summary: Luke breaks up with his girlfriend because he joined the Devils Warnings: strong language, implied smut, little angsty Word Count: 1,929 Luke Hughes x fm!reader

It was well past midnight and she was in bed on a Saturday night. Usually her Saturday nights were spent drunk in a tight top and not knowing her whereabouts. Nights like that started after her now ex-boyfriend Luke left for New Jersey on April 7th. 

Their relationship had been rocky for a few weeks at that point. Luke was struggling with academics and handling hockey at the same time. She was struggling with her classes and being home sick since her family lived in St. Paul, Minnesota. It was easier to drown out her sorrows with a giant bottle of Fireball than actually face her emotions. 

It’s been six weeks since everything seemed to collapse in her life. She had two weeks left before she was moving back to St. Paul for the summer. Instead of her original plans of staying in Michigan to help Luke pack and move his things to Jack’s apartment in New Jersey. 

She didn’t want to go out and party because there was a chance of seeing Luke. Since he came back to town last night. 

“They want me in Jersey tomorrow,” he said excitedly. His eyes were bright again. He looked happy for the first time in months. He took a hold of her arms, “They want to sign me,” he let out. She smiled towards him as she saw his own smile creep to his features. 

“I’m so happy for you,” she sighed out as she scanned his features. His crooked smile was bright as he leaned down and kissed her passionately. She hesitantly kissed him back as shock coursed through her veins. He hasn’t kissed her with this much intensity in months. “Luke,” she mumbled, pulled away from him.

He took a hold of her chin bringing her back towards him, kissing her hungerily. Her hands landed on his chest as his hands continued to hold her chin, keeping her still. “Luke,” she mumbled his name against his lips as she reluctantly pulled away from him again. It was hard to enjoy something when there were so many things left in the air between them. 

His lips felt good, kissing him like this felt good. It was everything she wanted. But her brain wouldn’t shut off.

“I know,” he uttered as he leaned his forehead against hers. He breathed heavily as he looked into her eyes. She admired the glow in his eyes. “Please,” he breathed out, looking deeply into her eyes. His hand moved from her chin to her neck as his thumb ran along the skin on the side of her neck.

Her gaze dropped towards his lips as she leaned towards him, kissing him urgently. Her hands found the ends of his hair as he sucked on her bottom lip. He slowly pushed her back towards his bed behind her. She stumbled backwards, her legs hit the mattress as he pulled away from her, pulling the hoodie from his body. He quickly pressed his lips against hers once more.

She shut her eyes harshly as the memory trickled into her mind. She hated that he was back in town, she hated that now she has to face the fact that they were broken up. Or the fact that they had sex and they broke up on the phone two days later. It was impossible to even process that their year-long relationship ended in a ten minute phone conversation.

Her gaze shifted from her computer beside her to the framed photo on her bedside table. Usually the framed photo would be turned around so she wouldn’t have to look at it but it was facing her bed. She doesn’t remember why she switched or when it even happened but it did.

The photo was in a red frame with a picture of Luke and herself cuddling on the couch. He was laying on top of her, dead asleep. She was half asleep, lazily running her fingers through his curls. When her friend took the photo. Y/N had no idea, the photo even existed until her friend texted her the photo a few days later.

She squinted her eyes hard as she felt tears fill her eyes. She missed him. She hated that he was all she could think about. Her phone began to vibrate beside her and she hesitantly picked it up to see Luke was calling her. 

His contact name is still Lukey Boy, with a purple heart beside it. His profile picture was still the same as before. A photo she took as she was sitting on his lap. His eyes squinted hard as he was fighting off a wide grin.

Her lips quivered as she brought the phone to her ear. She didn’t say anything as she could hear his heavy breathing. “Y/N?” he let out, breathy and raspy.

She didn’t reply, blinking rapidly to avoid any tears falling onto her cheek. “Y/N, I’m s-sorry,” he slurred. 

Her gaze looked towards the ceiling as she heard his voice. He sounded like he was in pain. “Luke,” she let out barely above a whisper.

“I was selfish, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it,” he muttered.

He was drunk.

“Luke-”

“Are you in your d-dorm?” he asked.

She missed his voice, his voice was always the best way to calm her down. Except right now it’s the last thing she wanted to hear. It was like torture hearing him plead.

“Yeah I am,” she said just as four loud knocks hit her dorm room’s door. Her breath got stuck in her throat as the sudden loud noise echoes throughout her dorm room. At first, the idea that her roommate forgot her key and needed to come back. 

But that didn’t make sense since her roommate was staying with her boyfriend for the night. 

Y/N climbed out of her sheets, still holding the phone to her ear as she walked through the cold small room towards the door. She hesitantly pulled it open to see Luke standing outside her door. His hand was still holding the phone to his ear. 

His crooked smile landed on his lips when he saw her. She pulled the phone from her ear, ending the call in the process as her eyes remained connected to his.

Her heart pounded hard against her chest as she looked over his features. His curls longer than normal. “Luke, you’re drunk. Go home,” she muttered, trying to shut the door but his hand hit the door keeping it open.

“Please,” he begged, breathing heavily. “Please, let me come in.”

She scanned his features. Taking note of the bags under his eyes, the lack of color on his cheeks. He’s had a crazy month and a half and his body was showing it. She stepped to the side allowing him to walk inside. He stepped inside, sobering up the longer he was in her presence. 

“How’d you even get in the building?” she asked as she shut the door behind him, her stomach began to flip the longer he stood in front of her. 

“Ethan’s girlfriend lives here. She let us in,” he explained, his eyes looking deeply into her eyes. 

He took a step towards her, she stood still. “I miss you,” he mumbled, hesitantly reaching his hand towards her. She crossed her arms over her chest trying to calm the beating in her chest. 

“Don’t say that,” she let out while shaking her head. “You don’t get to say that,” she walked away from him, her breathing getting heavier. 

“I'm an idiot,” he let out, shaking his head, “I was scared, okay? I-I didn’t want to do long distance because I was afraid of-” his mouth clammered shut as he began blinking rapidly. “I thought that if we broke up instead of doing long distance it would be easier,” he took a step towards her, he watched her turn around and face him.

“It’s worse,” he mumbled, “I have spent everyday trying to enjoy the fact that I am playing in the NHL. Playing with my brother. It should’ve been the best month of my life but I couldn’t stop thinking about you. All I wanted was to tell you about every great thing that happened to me. It made me realize how much you mean to me and how much I want to try to fix things,”

He delicately placed his hands on her waist. “I’m so sorry,” he let out again as he tried to meet her eye. She couldn’t look into his eyes. 

“Luke, you’re drunk. Please just go home,” she let out as she pulled away from his grasp.

“I’m not that drunk, I love you, Y/N,” he mumbled as he took a hold of her waist. He pulled her back into his chest, sliding his hands from her waist to her stomach. “We’ll make it work,” he mumbled into her ear.

His breath against her skin, sends goosebumps around her body. Out of habit, she tilted her head back against his chest. He pressed his lips against the skin below her ear, he slowly began to trail kisses on her neck. “You ended things,” she mumbled as her breath caught in her throat. 

She didn’t push him away. 

She needed his touch, she was desperate to feel his hands on her again. His lips and tongue on her skin made her body weak as if she was intoxicating from his touch. “And I’m an idiot,” he whispered into her ear as his hands landed on the skin of her stomach. He pressed his lips against her skin again. 

Turning around, his hands land on her lower back as she rests her hand on his chest as she looks into his eyes, “If you came here to have sex, Luke, that’s not going-”

“I came here to get my girlfriend back because I was an idiot,” he rested his hand onto her cheek, running his thumb across her warm skin. “I know how you are with drinking and sex. I know you,” he paused as he reached his other hand to hold her head in place, he took a deep breath. “I need you back,” he mumbled as he leaned towards her, “I miss you,” he muttered his lips practically touching her own. 

She leaned into him, pressing her lips against his with so much passion. She craved his lips as her fingertips found the base of his neck as she ran her fingers through his curls. “I love you,” she mumbled against his lips as he guided her towards her bed, their lips still connected.

“I love you,” he whispered back as he pulled away from her lips. “I love you so much,” he mumbled before he delicately lifted her body up onto the bed as his tongue danced with hers. He climbed on top of her, holding his body up as he slowed his pace down. Enjoying every second of her lips on his. Making up for lost time and future lost time with the inevitable distance.

He pulled away. Opening his eyes he saw her eyes flutter open. Leaning down, he pecked her lips a few more times before he crashed down onto her body, resting his head onto her chest as he completely submerged her body under his. His eyes shut as he took a sharp breath. 

“I missed you so fucking much,” he let out as he kissed the bare skin of her collarbone, feeling her hand run through his curly hair. As well as her other hand rubbed his upper back.

[dreamwatch]

Disenchanted Lullaby

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest

Day #16 - Prompt: Struggling | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: depression, chronic pain, referenced drug use | POV: Eddie | Pairing: None | Tags: Eddie Munson, slice of life, introspection, the comedown after touring, loneliness, ennui

In all my universes Eddie has Bipolar type 2. Make of that what you will. :)

Technically no pairing... technically...

Eddie opens the apartment door, a rush of stale air meeting him in the hallway. He steps inside and drops his bag, toeing his sneakers off. The curtains are still closed, dust motes decorating the room; there are upturned dishes by the sink that are long since dried. The sofa is a mess of clothes and books, discarded when he was packing. The place is just as he left it four months ago.

He sorts through weeks of unread mail, bills on one pile, junk on another. Starts a third pile when he recognises the handwriting on some letters; Dustin, Mike. Steve. He sticks that one into a pile of it’s own. No overdue notices because he cut off the cable and sent checks from the road for the rent and utilities. Probably confused the hell out of them with all the different post marks.

There’s a lingering smell of himself in the bedroom, an echo of him, and he wishes he’d changed the bedding before he left for the tour. He unpacks his bag, checking for clean clothes, but there’s road-stink on everything so he takes it all down to the laundry, trying to get four months of sweat and cigarettes out of the fabric.

He had the good sense to empty the fridge before he left; he forgot once and came home to find food so rotten it was almost sentient. But that means he has nothing to eat. He’s been living off pizza and Taco Bell for sixteen weeks; there was a venue in Denver that gave them fruit and vegetables among the usual subs and pizzas. He never realised eating a carrot could be a spiritual experience.

The aisles of the local supermarket are filled with women and their offspring, an old lady hits the back of his bad leg with her trolley, doesn’t even say sorry. 

The harsh fluorescent strip light flickers above him as he stares at the deli meats. There’s fifty cents off pastrami. He needs to get bread. 

The strip light hums. 

Maybe some mayo. Should definitely get some oranges. 

“Sir?”

He blinks and looks as the girl behind the checkout.

“Sorry, what…?”

She sighs. “$26.55.”

“Right. Yeah, sure.”

He hands over three tens and walks out as fast as he can. As he loads up the car he notices the twin six packs of PBR at the bottom of the trolley.

The stairs finish off the job the old lady started, he feels flayed and raw, but he ran out of Vicodin about eight shows back. The apartment is quiet enough that he can hear the whistling of his tinnitus. He thinks about calling Wayne but it’s lunchtime in Indiana and the old man will be sleeping. He’ll catch him another time.

He’s in pain and exhausted, so he slides out of his jeans, climbs on top of the dirty bed and sleeps.

Wayne used to say that his mother ‘suffered with her nerves’, and Eddie could never make any sense of that until he started high school. They didn’t see it for what it was at first, teenage boys and their angry moods, but Wayne recognised it eventually. Eddie’s been on and off meds ever since.

Right now he’s off. But they numb him, dial him down when he needs to be dialled up, so he doesn’t take them when he tours. It’s not smart; the last few weeks he’s felt it creep back, insidious tendrils grabbing him, pulling him down. His ‘nerves’. He needs to call his doctor.

It’s amazing how many people think everyone in a band lives together like The Monkees, all trapped in one big house. They did, when they first moved to Indy and found a two bedroom shitbox. Now, though, they can’t wait to get the fuck away from each other the second the tour ends. Weeks trapped on a bus with no privacy and very little hygiene doesn’t do much for long term friendships. By the end any camaraderie has begun to curdle. 

Gareth and Matt live with their girlfriends now, Jeff with his wife and baby. They have solid families, good reasons to not be in the same room as one another until they have to get back into the studio. Eddie has his books, his records and a television set. He considered getting a dog for company but there’s nobody to look after it when he inevitably goes back out on the road.

He doesn’t verbalise it because it’s painful to admit, even to himself, but he’s lonely. He made some friends in LA, just for him, never to be shared. An actual boyfriend once. Or maybe just a lover, Eddie’s never sure where the line started and ended. But he has a habit of pushing people away, doesn’t even know why he does it. Hurts just to hurt.

He glances at the letters on the table. The letter from Steve. 

The red light of the answerphone blinks at him, telling him the tape is full.

He sits down with a beer and a bag of pretzels and switches the television on, flicking through the channels until he finds the Wheel of Fortune; he and Wayne used to watch that together. 

He really should call Wayne.

It’s nearly eight o’clock. He’d have finished his vocal warm up by now, finished his stretches, gone for a piss before drinking more water, drinking more beer, finishing up with a line of something. Roadie hands him his guitar, the black Flying V, he runs some scales. Hears the chanting as the crowd get antsy while their techs do the last mic check and clear the stage. Jeff is always first so the wall of sound has already built before Eddie walks out. A crushing roar that rumbles deep in his chest before he even strikes the first chord.

The crowd applaud as Gary from Sioux Falls solves the phrase: There’s No Place Like Home.

Eddie gets up for another beer. Comes back with two.

[gretavangroupie]

Vigilance (Chapter 19 Part 1)

Word count: 15.2k

Pairings: I'll just let you see for yourself...

Warnings: Alcohol, Gambling, Smoking, Marijuana, Cursing, Dramatic Themes. Smut Including: Kissing, Touching, Making Out, Light Degradation, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Fingering, Name Calling, Edging, Mentions of Sub/Dom Themes, Voyeurism, Orgasm Denial, Unprotected Sex, Digital Penetration, Pet Names, Spanking. Angst Including: Jealousy, Possessiveness, Toxic Themes. Fluff.

If I missed any please let me know.

This story is a collaboration with my best pal @gretavanmoon.

Teaser Trailer

LATE FEBRUARY 2022

HER POV

“What’s taking so fucking long?” Sam urges, watching the baggage carousel spin round and round with no signs of your luggage.

“That’s what happens when you’re the last ones on the plane. Your luggage comes off last too.” Danny quips, tilting his head to the side in frustration.

“I… don’t think that’s how that works Danny…” you mumble to yourself with a laugh.

“It’s not my fault that traffic was bad Daniel! The Nashville airport is fucked on a good day!” he replies, tossing his hands into the air.

Elle stands to the side shaking her head at Sam’s annoyance and stares off at the small aircraft hanging from the ceiling. “How do you think they got that through the doors?” she asks, still staring at it.

“Isn’t it obvious? They took it apart piece by piece, walked it through the door and then put it back together.” Jake says sarcastically, tipping his sunglasses down.

Elle turns to face him, stepping closer to the both of you “You’re kind of a smart ass Jacob…” she replies. 

“If you want to talk about my ass, you’re better off on twitter, sweetheart.” he winks, and turns away smiling to himself.

“Jake!” you scoff, elbowing him in the side. He turns to you with a devilish grin and shrugs his shoulders. 

“Finally!” Sam exclaims, drawing your attention to the new luggage added to the belt. 

Jake steps forward grabbing your suitcase and his own. He insisted on new luggage before the trip, stating you would be doing a lot of traveling the next few months and good sturdy luggage was important. Why it had to match his, you weren’t sure, but it did make spotting it a whole lot easier. 

One by one you all grabbed your bags and made your way to the pick up area. You followed behind Richard, the bands new day to day manager appointed by the label, out to the pick up location, ready to load your things into the van to take you to the hotel.

You hadn’t spoken to Richard much. You weren’t even sure if he knew that he was your replacement. Did he know what happened with Jake? With Collective? You’d get to the bottom of that later, right now you were just along for the ride until one of the guys needed something. 

With stop and go traffic it took about ten minutes to get from the airport to the hotel. But it wasn’t a hotel at all, it was a resort. A massive one. “My god this place is huge!” you whisper, reading the sign that says ‘Mandalay Bay Resort’.

“Have you never been to Vegas, baby?” Jake asks, sliding his hand over your thigh.

“No…I haven’t. Not like this!” you reply.

Elle leans forward and whispers between the two of you, “It’s called sin city for a reason…”

—

After a quick check in, Jake presses the keycard to the door, and you hear the electronic lock open. A rush of cold air hits you as he pushes the hotel room door open. The afternoon sun is shining in a perfect yellow onto the large white bed linens. 

The curtains on the window are wide open revealing a perfect view of the strip, all flashing lights and streams of color, even in the light of the day. Plush chairs, a small desk and a mini bar line the walls. You kick your shoes off and collapse onto the fluffy king sized bed, letting out a sigh as your body sinks into the cloud of pillowy fabric.

Jake slides his boots off, and places his hat on the desk, before resting his knee on the edge of the bed and crawling over top of you. You let your arms rest behind your head as his mouth presses a kiss to your exposed neck. 

“Remember the last time we were in a hotel room together?” he asks.

“Mmm…In LA?” you ask.

“Not LA…” he says, sliding the sleeve of your shirt down your shoulder. “Try again.”

“Oh. Atlanta…the balcony…” you say, letting your mind fill with the memory.

“There you go…” he croons, kissing the now exposed skin on your shoulder.

“Looks like we don't have a balcony this time…” you say, turning your head to the window.

“Nope. I’m gonna have to get creative.”  he says, pulling your shirt back up over your shoulder and standing from the bed. 

“What are you doing?” you ask, desperate for his touch.

He adjusts himself in his pants, before offering you a hand up from the bed. “Figured we would go see the place before dinner. Do a little shopping. Explore a little…” he said.

“You’re a tease.” you state.

He raises his eyebrows and smiles, “Something about Vegas…”

—

With shopping bags scattered around the room, you take one last look at yourself in the mirror, pulling up the zipper on your new dress. Seeing it in the shop window you insisted you didn’t need it, but after Jake practically forced you into the dressing room with it, you were walking out of the store with the dress in hand. 

“Fuck it looks better on you now than it did in the store.” he says, stepping up behind you, placing his hands on your bare shoulders. 

He wasn’t wrong, the navy blue satin sat perfectly on your body, the low neckline had a matching plunge in the back, leaving very little to the imagination. 

Sweeping your hair out of the way, he presses a kiss to your spine, sending chills down your back.

“Stop or we aren’t going to make it to dinner. Josh was really excited about this place.”

“Would skipping dinner really be such a bad thing? We could order room service instead…” he says, sliding his hand up the back of your thigh, and under the hem of your dress.

“Yes Jake. We came all the way to Vegas and you want to stay in the room? Imagine what we might miss out on? Plus I’m starving.” you say, shooing his hand away.

“Mmm…me too.” he growls.

Jake!” you scold.

“Alright, alright… Let’s go before I change my mind.” he says grumbling, tucking his wallet into his pocket.

—

It took three elevator changes to find the restaurant, tucked away in the furthest corner of the resort. Josh was practically buzzing with excitement, stating he watched reviews of every restaurant in the resort and this one was the best one. 

As the host led your group to the table, you took a seat with Jake in the middle of you and Elle. Sam sat across from you with Josh and Danny. The rest of the team opted for a night at the casino, leaving just your core group to wine and dine tonight.

After a few minutes the drinks began flowing, you and Elle selecting the specialty cocktail as the rest of the guys ordered their usual mixed drinks. Jake threw his arm around the back of your chair as he chatted with Sam, the pre-show anxiety beginning to set in for all of them. 

You rested your elbow on the table and placed your chin on your fist as you watched the two of them go back and forth for a few minutes. Sam’s hair had grown a touch longer, a sprinkling of a mustache beginning to grow in, transforming his face from the baby face you knew and loved into a much more striking and angular man's face. 

You bit your lips together, as you watched him speak, moving his hands in the way he so typically did when he had a bit to drink, and as his eyes flashed over to yours, he paused for just a touch longer than he should have before looking away. 

You swallowed nervously and turned to Jake, who was now caught up in conversation with Elle. Your eyes flashed back to Sam, his eyes trained on you. Neither of you said anything, but you kept your eyes locked on him as you rubbed your lips together to redistribute the gloss adorning them. His mouth parted slightly and you watched his tongue dart out over his lips, as if the phantom taste of you still lingered there. 

You broke your eyes away and noticed the waiter coming with the tray of steaming food. You tossed back the rest of your drink and ordered another as your plate was set in front of you. 

You felt Jake’s hand slide up your leg and settle there, his fingers giving you a quick pat on your inner thigh as he continued talking to Elle. Turning to look at him, you were met with the back of his head and turned back to your food, catching Sam’s eyes once again. 

He raised an eyebrow to you, before dramatically tossing his napkin into his lap. The waiter arrived with your drink, and you sipped half of it down, before grabbing your utensils and cutting into your dinner. 

A few minutes later you felt Jake’s hand move from your leg and pick up his drink, throwing back the rest of it with an exhale. 

“How is it my love?” he asks, picking up his own utensils.

“Delicious, but mine was hot when I ate it.” you say, making a subtle jab at his long winded conversation with Elle.

You hear Sam chuckle from across the table, and both of you look over at him.

“Something funny Sammy boy?” Jake asks.

“No, no. Nothing at all. He says, swirling his straw in his drink. 

Jake scoffs and places a kiss on your cheek before beginning to eat his meal. 

You let your hand rest on his thigh, as you enter into conversation with Josh, letting your hand slide further and further in as the minutes tick by. You feel his hand reach for yours, holding you steady before reaching the place you’re searching for. 

“Careful darlin’ or I’ll have to take you back to the room right now.” he growls into your ear.

You remove your hand and place it on your lap, laughing at the story Josh has been telling for the last twenty minutes. 

When the check is paid you are eager to get Jake back to your room, anxious for him to finish what he started earlier in the day. 

“We hitting the tables? The machines? What are we doing?” Danny asks.

“Slot machines baby!” Josh yells, the alcohol clearly working overtime in his system.

“I think I’m gonna go see about this hidden speakeasy.” Sam says, raising his eyebrows. “Any takers?”

“A hidden speakeasy you say?” Jake says, rubbing his chin.

You give him your best ‘No…back to the room’ eyes, but he doesn’t bite.

“Yeah, supposedly it’s tucked away and you have to know just where to go to find it. I did a little reconnaissance earlier today. I think I found it.” he says.

“You know I can’t turn down a little mystery…” Jake says, rubbing his thumb over your shoulder.

You turn to look at him, eyes pleading to take you back to the room once again, but still, he doesn’t fold.

“Eleanor?” Sam says, raising his eyebrow.

“Samuel…” she says, pushing away from the table.

“That’s what I thought.” he says, walking around to meet her.

You and Jake both push away from the table, and you grab your clutch from the chair.

“Just one drink. Then I’ll take you back…” he says, placing a kiss to the top of your hand. Your cheeks already flamed red from the alcohol,  grew three shades darker. 

—

Sam taps on the bookshelf three times and steps back. Tucked back in a dark corner of the resort corridor sat the bar he spoke of. ‘1923 Prohibition Bar’. The bookshelf swung open revealing a small lounge with dim lighting, a small bar and soft piano music. You all stepped inside and felt instantly transported to another time. 

“Okay this is fucking sick!” Sam said, making his way further inside, Elle trailing behind him.

You and Jake followed behind them, his hand resting on the small bare expanse of your lower back.

Making your way to the bar you each ordered a drink and settled yourself on the plush velvet couch and chairs near the piano. Jake sat next to you, and Elle next to him. Sam sat in the chair across from the three of you, crossing his legs at the knee as his foot bounced in time with the music. 

The drinks are suddenly hitting the four of you pretty hard, inhibitions lowered and guards down. You’re all laughing louder than you should be, and before you know it another round of drinks has been ordered.

You find yourself turning your body to rest into Jake’s side as you all continue to talk, sipping away at your gin fizz. 

“Let’s order a bottle of champagne!” Sam suggests.

“Oh yeah, good idea baby!” Elle encourages. “You like champagne, right Jake?” she says, dusting her fingers across his leg.

His eyes snap to her hand as his breath catches, “Oh, uh, yeah I like champagne.” he says.

Your eyes travel over to Sam who is smiling to himself as he speaks to the waitress, ordering the said bottle. 

Minutes later she is returning with a bucket of ice, a bottle of Veuve, and four champagne flutes. 

Sam pours up the glasses, distributing them to each of you before making a toast. “Here’s to the girls who do, and here’s to the girls who don’t. And here’s to the girls who say they will, but when the time comes, won’t.…”

Suddenly Jake speaks up, holding his glass out towards Sam, voice thick with desire, “But here’s to the girls most of all, who say they never will. I can’t, I won’t, I shan’t, I don’t… but just for you, I will.”

He turns to you, tapping your glass to his with a wink, as you sip the bubbles down. 

A silent look is exchanged between Sam and Jake in that moment. One you can’t quite decipher, despite how well you know both of them. You cast a glance at Elle, who is staring straight at you. 

“Come with me, Y/N. I have to pee.” she says, lifting her hand to yours.

She grabs your hand, lacing her fingers with yours as she pulls you towards the tiny bathroom, drinks in hand. 

Opening the small bathroom she locks the door behind you, and places her drink on the bathroom counter. Reaching behind her head she unclasps the halter top of her romper, letting it fall to the floor beneath her. 

Your eyes immediately flick to her chest, bare as they come, before you turn away to give her privacy. 

You hear her giggle, as she pees. “You don’t have to look away Y/N. It’s fine… I don’t mind you looking.” she pauses, standing up and flushing the toilet. “In fact, I’d be lying if I said I haven't had my eye on you all night, wondering what you look like under that dress.”

You turn to look at her, eyes filled with lust, “Oh…” you reply, feeling a blush creep up your face.

She steps closer to you, her top still hanging around her waist, “What, don’t be shy Y/N. We’re just having fun. I’ve always thought you were so pretty. So jealous of the way you looked. Your curves...” she said, running her finger down the strap of your dress, pressing her bare chest against your side. A tingle runs up your spine as her hardened nipple grazes your skin. 

“I can definitely see why Sam was so intoxicated by you, you’re a fuckin’ thrill, babe. Such a treat. I wouldn’t want to quit you either.” she finishes, refastening her top, and stepping over to the sink. 

Your cheeks are painted crimson at her confession, and your drunken mind is positively buzzing with the unknown. Your eyes lock with hers in the mirror, a familiar sensation thrumming in your stomach. 

“I can’t wait to see where this bottle of champagne takes us, it always was one of my favorites to get loose on.” she says, drying her hands. 

You lean against the wall, tossing back the rest of your glass, “Mine, too. It always makes me…so carefree…” you say, adding emphasis to your words. 

“Hmm. Did Sam know that? Must’ve ordered it on purpose…Carefree sounds like a good theme for the night, don’t you think?” she asks, twisting the lock on the door, and turning towards you. 

She brushes the hair off of your shoulder as her eyes drift up your body, “Let’s go get another drink hmm?”

She grabs your fingers and leads you back to the boys, still sitting in the place you left them. 

“Look at that, they ordered for us…” she says, bending over to grab the drinks from the table. She hands you yours, and clinks her glass to yours, “...now let’s have some fun...” she giggles, taking a place next to Jake. 

Sam is sitting watching Elle as she flits around the table, and your eyes catch sight of the piano across the way. 

“You think that thing is tuned correctly, Sammy?” you ask, motioning with your drink towards the old upright. 

“Shall we find out?” he says, standing and offering you his arm. 

You turn to look at Jake, eyes heavy and posture relaxed, as he gives you a lazy nod. 

You link arms with Sam and make your way over to the piano, positioning yourself on the small wooden bench. Sam sets his drink on top, and stretches his fingers over the keys. 

“What are you gonna play for me, Sammy?” you ask.

“What do you wanna hear babe?” he asks, pressing a few keys. 

“Mmm…something prohibition-y.” you giggle.

“What does that even mean? How about something bluesy instead. That is in my inebriated wheelhouse.” he laughs.

“Whatever you want, as long as it’s for me.” He turns to you, locking eyes like he wants to say something, but instead bites his lips together. 

The notes begin to ring out in the small bar, everyone's head turning at the sound of his perfect playing. The piano was, in fact, in tune. 

You lean into his side and whisper into his ear, “What is this? I recognize it.”

“It’s called Rhapsody in Blue…it’s Gershwin. One of the ones I play late at night if I can’t sleep. Probably why you recognize it.” he says.

“I like it. It’s pretty.” you say.

“You’re pretty.” he says, nuzzling his face into your ear. “And look at that… you’re in blue.”

You glance down to your dress, “Oh, yeah I am…” you blush.

“Told you it’s for you. Pretty song for my pretty girl.” he breathes into your ear.

You let your hand slide onto his lap, far closer than it should, but as you look behind you, you see Jake and Elle in quite a similar state. Her hand on his arm as she talks closely. You feel a flame of heat rise in your chest, but quickly stifle it back down. 

“You know… Elle told me the same thing in the bathroom.” you say.

“I bet she did. She is…quite fond of you. Can’t say I blame her.” he replies.

“So she said. Flirty little thing. Said she knew why you were intoxicated by me…” you whisper.

“Mmm…Intoxicated…beguiled…completely bewitched… If only she knew, huh, babe…” he said, looking behind his shoulder. “In fact…C'mere…” he said, pulling you into his lap. “Put your hands on mine, like we used to.”

As you went to look over your shoulder he stopped you, “They’re in their own little world…Let’s stay in ours for a little while longer...Let me play you another, lover.”

His soft words pierced you right through the heart and you knew nothing could drag you away from him and this moment. You placed your hands on his as he began to move them across the keys, a deep hum of whispered lyrics filling your ear as he sang along to the tune his fingers were producing, in a song meant only for your ears.

‘My funny valentine…

Sweet comic, valentine…

You make me smile with my heart…’

Your heart constricted when you realized exactly what he was singing, and even worse, why. He rested his cheek on your arm as his voice continued to croon the sweet sentimental tune, a low deep grumble of poetic words sang straight from the heart.

‘Your looks are laughable…

Unphotographable…

Yet you’re my favorite work of art…’

You let your fingertips run the length of his skilled fingers, taking in the feeling of his skin on yours.

He bounced his leg softly in time to the music, causing your breath to catch in your throat. 

“Sam…” you said, the friction against your center causing your head to spin.

“Just feel it baby, we don’t have much longer.” he said, pressing his cheek to your shoulder once more as he continued to glide across the keys. You felt his eyelashes flutter closed against your arm, and you did the same, fully taking in the moment here with him, unsure if something like this could or would ever happen again. As the song draws to a close, he sings the final words, directly into your ear, causing a shiver to run the length of your spine.

‘Stay little valentine, stay…

Each day is valentines day…’

Letting the song resonate with you, you reopened your eyes and you looked again, seeing Jake talking to Elle, closer now than even a few minutes ago and bit your cheek. You pulled your hand away from Sam’s bringing his with yours to settle at the top of your thigh.

“Mmm…” he groans, feeling the heat radiating between your legs. “The most tempting sin, but I can’t finish the song one handed without drawing attention.” he said, pulling his hand back to the keys as his fingers swiped quickly over your center.

“Sammy…” you breathe, rolling your hips just a touch as he continues the slow crooning piano notes. 

“Fuck…Don’t. We can’t…” he whines. 

“What was it Jake said earlier…I can’t, I won’t, I shan’t, I don’t…” you tease.

“Fuck, Y/N…” he breathes, as you attempt to stand from his lap but his arm wraps around your waist pulling you back down onto his now hardening bulge.

“I feel you…” you say.

“You’re not shocked are you, baby? Give me a minute. Let me have you, if only like this.” he says, playing another short nameless tune with his free hand.

His hand drops and moves to rest on your thigh, sliding up your leg as his finger tips barely dust the place where the hem of your panties should be.

“No panties with this dress? And he gets you all to himself…” he teases, pulling his hand back.

“Maybe it wasn’t for him…” you say, standing up and adjusting your dress.

He stands after you, placing his arm around your waist and pulling you close to let his lips meet your ear one last time, “Stay, little valentine…” 

You swallow heavily as you meet his eyes, a silent conversation starting and finishing as you make your way to the bar. 

JAKE POV 

“What do you think he’s gonna play?” Elle asks you, sitting down on the couch next to you.

“If I had to guess… he will play something he knows by heart, because he’s three sheets to the wind.” you laugh. “So that gives us about five options.”

“Is that true for you too? Can you still play when you’re drinking?” she asks, turning more to face you. 

You smirk, “I only play when I’ve been drinking...” 

“Of course.” she smirks back. 

You both turn to look towards the piano as Sam starts playing, “Ah, Rhapsody. Should have known.” you say, gesturing towards him. “Always plays that. Swear it was the only thing he would play for months after he learned it.” 

You turn your attention back to Elle, her dark curls framing her face in the dim light of the bar. “Do you need another drink?” you ask, shaking your glass.

“I’ll have what you’re having, and don’t go easy on me.” she says. 

You click your tongue on your teeth, “I never go easy.”

A few minutes later you are returning to the couch, Sam and Y/N still laughing away at the piano. You hand Elle her glass and raise yours to hers, tapping them together.

“Whiskey, huh?” she says, drinking it down with ease. You watch her throat swallow down the liquid, sending a chill through your body.

“Familiar with it?” you ask, tilting your head.

“Raised on it.” she quips.

“Good woman.” you offer.

“Your brother seems to think so.” she smiles, raising her eyebrows.

“My brother has good taste.” you quip.

“Maybe she’s the one with good taste.” she says, looking over to Y/N and sipping the amber liquid.

“I’d have to agree.” you say sipping your drink.

“You may be the rockstar but she’s the smoke show.” she says.

“I’ve loved that woman since I was sixteen years old, before I was ever a rockstar. But she has always been a smoke show. Somehow she loves me back.” you reply.

“How could she not?” she says placing her hand on your arm, causing you to turn your head. “Quiet, mysterious, alluring… what’s not to like?”

A rush travels through your body, something exciting and familiar.

“It’s okay to feel Jake. Feelings are free. It’s when you act on them that there’s a price to pay.” she says, letting her hand fall to your leg.

You feel the blood start to rush to your groin and you look over at Y/N, now sitting on Sam’s lap as he plays a song you know all too well.

A pang of jealousy shoots through you and you let out a strangled breath, torn between tearing Y/N away from Sam, and staying here with Elle trying to regain control of your dick. 

“You two are cute, you know. So innocent. At least, she is…For some reason you don’t quite strike me as innocent. Are you? Innocent, Jake?” she asks.

You swallow, “In what way?” you answer.

“Don’t play coy with me Jake... I’ve seen you on stage. You know what way…The only way that counts.” she says, letting her hand slide up your thigh, turning closer to your face. 

“Oh, you’re sparkly… come here.” she says, pulling you towards her. 

Her thumb swipes over your cheek, and as you breathe in, your senses are flooded by the smell of her perfume. So smokey, so different from Y/N’s. You let your eyes roll back in your head as her chest presses against you. Images of her body flash through your head, and the way her tits are pressed against you has you positively reeling. 

Fuck. Pull it together Jake. 

She sits back down holding her thumb out, “Just glitter…” she says, flicking it into the air and locking eyes with you. Suddenly you felt something you hadn’t ever felt for Elle. 

The blood is rushing and there is nothing you can do to stop it. It’s too late, and now Y/N and Sam are walking towards you. You cross your legs in an attempt to conceal your growing boner, but you’re sure it’s no use. 

“Baby!” Elle says, jumping up to wrap her arms around Sam. 

“You almost ready babe? I can’t wait on you all night!” he jokes.

“Yeah, let me just say bye to Y/N and Jake, and we can go.”

You watch as Elle grabs Y/N’s hand and pulls her into a hug. A far more intimate hug than you expected to witness, and as Elle whispers something into Y/N’s ear, you watch her cheeks grow pink and you feel your dick beginning to throb once again. 

Elle steps away, and walks towards you with a smirk. She kneels on the couch next to you and leans into your ear,  “Bye Jake... Take care of my girl tonight…and if you can’t… call me and I’ll do it.” 

You let out a huff, and look at Sam who shrugs his shoulders and laughs. He presses a kiss to Y/N’s cheek and tells her he will see her tomorrow and just like that the two of them disappear through the hidden door. 

You try to regain your composure as you toss back the rest of your drink. 

“You good Jake? You look flushed.” she says, stepping in front of you. 

You wrap your hand around the back of her thigh and pull her close to you. “Tell me you’re mine.”

Her eyes are dark as they connect with yours, “Take me upstairs and I’ll show you.”

—

Hand in hand you whisked her through the never ending corridors of the resort, searching for the elevator that would deposit you at your room. Your blood was rushing through your body like a roaring rapid, your dick pounding so hard you could hear it in your head. You made no effort to conceal it, it was no use.

Finally tapping the key card to the door you barrel through pulling her in behind you. The door barely slams shut before you’re grabbing her neck and pulling her lips to yours as you press her to the door. Her hands wind into your hair as your tongue swipes across her lips, begging for entry. 

As her lips part you bring your hands to the straps of her dress gently sliding the silky fabric over her shoulders to reveal her bare chest. Swiping your fingers across her chest you slap at her hardened nipples causing a moan to leave her lips. 

“Beautiful.” you breathe.

Your hands make their way to her side pulling down the zipper and watching as the dress falls from her body and cascades to the floor. You pull away from her, taking in the sight of her, “What do we have here? No panties…tsk tsk…” you say, swiping a finger through her core. 

“All for you baby…” she coos. 

“Is it? All for me…” you ask, spinning her around and tossing her to the bed. 

You grab her foot, gently unbuckling her shoe and tossing it to the floor. “You seemed all too pleased to leave me there on the couch…”

You drop her leg and grab the other, repeating the action of removing her shoe. 

She sits up on her elbows, “I don’t know love, you seemed pretty happy on that couch from the looks of it.” 

You drop her foot to the floor as you unbuckle your belt, sliding it through the loops of your pants. 

“Hmmm… Is that what you think?” you say, tossing the belt on the bed. 

She turns to look at it laying next to her, then back up to you. 

You raise your eyebrow in acknowledgement, “Answer carefully.”

“Or what?” she challenges.

You shake your head as you unbutton your slacks, letting them drop to the floor, as you pull your shirt over your head. 

“I’m waiting…” you say.

“She’s pretty Jake. I don’t blame you.” she says, parting her legs.

“That she is…but she’ll never be you.” you say, crawling between her spread legs. 

You lean over her, taking her nipple between your lips, and biting softly as you pull away. Her back arches up off of the bed, a clear sign she is almost where you want her.

“She wanted to take you home tonight…” you continue.

“I know she did.” she says, pressing a kiss to your throat.

“Yeah? She tell you what she told me?” you growl.

“I don’t know, what did she tell you?” she asks, reaching between you and fisting your length.

A fire ignites in your chest, and suddenly all coherent thoughts are gone. “You first...”

You run a finger through her slit, collecting the wetness as you circled her clit. “Go on. Tell me.” A whimper leaves her lips as you circle her bud.

“In the bathroom…she– she said she wanted to know what I looked like under my dress. Said she was– was jealous of my curves…Thinks I’m pretty…” she whined.

“Yeah but you didn’t show her…Did you. You didn’t show her because you know this is mine.” you say, pressing a kiss to her chest. 

“She was naked. In the bathroom…I tried not to look…” she confessed.

“But you wanted to, didn’t you baby?” you say, coaxing the truth from her. 

“Yeah. I did…” she pauses. “Then as we were leaving…” she whines as you slip a finger inside of her.

“Fuck Jake…” she groans, “She said she could make me feel good… if I would let her…”

Fuck me…

“Yeah? She say that? Make your pussy nice and wet?” you growl.

She didn’t answer, but you could see it written on her face. “I watched you blush. I wondered what she said. I know you want to let her, too.” you said, working another finger into her. 

“You wanna know what she said to me?” you ask.

“Yes…” she breathes.

“Told me that if I couldn’t take care of you, she would…Now, where would she get the idea that I can’t take care of you? What would make her think that? Any idea, sugar?” you quip, curling your fingers up into her.

“No! No, I never said that!” she says through a strangled moan. 

“You sure? You need a refresher on who takes care of you?” you ask, working her sweet spot. 

“Fuck Jake…” she cries. 

“A reminder of who fucking owns you?” you seethe. 

“Yes! Yes, please Jake! You own me...” she begs.

You pull your fingers from her abruptly, placing them on her tongue, pressing down into the back of her throat. “That’s fucking right. I do. You’re mine. Suck.” 

She closes her lips around your fingers sucking her arousal from your fingertips, causing your dick to grow impossibly harder. 

You pull your fingers from her mouth and bring them to rest around her throat. “Now, you weren’t a very good girl tonight, were you?” you ask.

Her eyes water, sparkling in the lamp light. She shakes her head and a sly smile crosses her lips. 

“How should we correct that? Make sure you don’t slip up and find yourself on my brothers’ lap again?” you ask.

She slowly licks her tongue over her lips, “I don’t know but make it hurt.” she says, voice filled with want.

“Make it hurt, she says… Careful what you wish for my love.” you say, grabbing her waist and spinning her to her front. 

“All fours.” you say, slapping her ass. 

She quickly manages to find herself on all fours, waiting patiently for you to make your next move. You're practically vibrating with anticipation, this side of you not coming out too often.

You drag a finger through her wetness, circling her clit again as you press your tip to her center. 

“No panties… No panties… and to think you sat like that, hot and wanting on Sam’s lap. Do you think he knew you were wet for his girlfriend?” you ask, pushing inside of her. 

A moan filled the space of the room as you felt her constrict around you. “You like that? You like talking about Elle as I fuck you?” you say, beginning to snap your hips into her. 

“I don’t know Jake, do you like talking about Elle while you fuck me?” she quips. 

Your hand comes down across her ass with a searing sting, causing a moan to ripple out of her. 

“Watch your mouth or I’ll find a better use for it.” you warn. 

You press your hand into her back, forcing her to rest her chest on the bed, giving your deeper access inside of her. “Fuck me… you feel so fucking good. You’re so fucking wet for me, goddamn…” you groan.

“How do you know it’s all for you?” she says. 

“What did I just tell you?” you snap.

You begin to fuck into her harder, sweat dripping from your chest. 

“Do something about it.” she coaxes.

You snap your hand across her ass once again, “I told you to watch your mouth. Clearly this isn’t getting the point across.”

She reaches out to her side, hand searching for the belt you tossed earlier. Her hand finally finds purchase and grasps it in her fist. 

“This.” she breathes. 

“This, she says. She begs for the belt, does she? Want me to take you over my knee and help you remember who’s in charge here?” you ask.

“Yes. Please, please!” she begs.

“And she thought you were innocent…” you mumble.

“I’m not. I never was.” she urges.

You pull out of her with a hiss, flipping her over and pulling her up to meet you. 

“You sure baby? Once I start there’s no going back.” you warn, looking into her lust filled eyes..

“I’m sure.” she says, pressing her lips to yours. 

You grab the belt in your fist, flipping her back to her stomach, and pulling her down the bed. You step off the bed, positioning yourself behind her, rubbing your hand over her already pink ass, before swinging the belt down with a hard crash. 

“Fuck…” she cries out, the red welt already forming across her pebbled skin. 

Your dick is throbbing to be back inside of her, but part of you knows she wants this. Needs this. To feel completely owned by you.

“Tell me to keep going Y/N.” you say.

“Please Jake…” she begs.

“Say it. Say the words.” you demand.

“Keep going Jake. Do it again.” she whines.

With a deep breath you rear back and let the leather whip against her red skin in another harsh crack. You toss the belt to the floor, spinning her to her back and pressing forward into her. “Fuck. You’re so tight Y/N. So gorgeous. Tell me you’re mine. Tell me you only want me.” you beg.

“I’m yours! I’m yours Jake! I– I’m sorry I– didn’t mean to make you jealous I just…” she stammers.

“I’m not jealous. I just…I fucking love you Y/N. Need you.” you say, feeling her tighten against you. “Cum for me. Show me you’re mine. Show me who makes you feel this good. Who takes care of you!” 

She pulls your neck down and crashes her lips to yours as she lets go, warmth washing over you as her body tightens around you. As you lean into her neck you're transported back to the bar, the smell of Elle’s perfume swirling through your brain. Y/N’s description of her in the bathroom. The advances you watched her make. It all had you crumbling towards your release. 

You pull out of her constricting grip before pounding into her one last time as you spill yourself inside of her. “Oh fuck…” you groan, feeling her continuing to pulse around you. “Fuck Y/N… Anything you want…Anything. Just say the word.” you pant. 

You collapse on top of her, pulling her close to you. Both of you struggling to catch your breath as you soften inside of her. 

You roll off of her, watching your release spill from between her legs, sending your mind reeling. Did you really just think of Elle as you came? What the fuck was that about?

You walk into the bathroom and start the shower, Y/N joining you a few minutes later. You take special care to soothe the tender skin you laid into earlier, never knowing that was something she wanted. As you wrap her in the fluffy hotel towel and send her into the bedroom, you let your mind travel far away wondering what else she may want, but won't tell you.

—

Pulling the blankets over your shower warmed bodies, you bring her into your side, letting her wet hair cascade across the pillow.

“I love you Jake, more than anything. Anyone in the world.” She says. 

“I love you Y/N. Forever, I swear. Nothing could take me away from you.” You reply.

“I hope I wasn't too…rough with you. I know we’ve never done that before.” you whisper. 

“You weren’t. It was perfect.” she replied.

“I just… don’t know what you’re comfortable with sometimes.” you admit. “I never want to do anything you’re not completely comfortable doing.”

“I would tell you if I didn’t want to, baby. I swear. Plus, I kind of liked that side of you.” she grins.

“Yeah?” you ask.

“Yeah. You’re hot and you’re all mine.” she says, kissing your collarbone.

“That I am. I meant what I said though. If there’s…anything you want…You just have to tell me okay?” you say.

“Same for you, you know…” she replies, rolling to turn off her lamp. She settles back into your side, throwing her leg over yours. 

You run your fingers over her ribs, circling your favorite spot as you exhale. “As long as you’re there, nothing is off the table.”

—

SAM POV

“Sammy babe…wake up…” the sound of Elle’s slightly scratchy voice startled you from an intense dream. “Time to get going, lover…” she cooed in your ear, pushing fallen hair from your face. 

“My head…it’s pounding…help me Elle I need an IV…” you blubbered, refusing to open your eyes. She scoffed and laughed. “Did we drink champagne and liquor last night?” You mumbled. 

She popped up from the bedside, flitting about the room as you slowly peeped your eyes open. She was fingering through her suitcase, in nothing but a crisp white towel, her hair piled up in a towel on her head. 

“Yes, we did. That was your idea, Einstein. Knowing you have a show tonight. Come on, Sam.” She said, not turning her attention to you. 

“Why did you let me do that? I feel like shit.” You said, sitting up on your elbows. She rejoined you on the bed, letting her damp towel fall to the floor before she snuck back under the covers beside you. 

She pushed your shoulder back down to hit the pillow, the motion making your head spin a little. “Well, Y/N told me it was always her favorite thing to get drunk on…said it made her feel carefree…” she went on, trailing her fingertip up and down your chest, not helping the fact that your morning wood was already raging just from seeing her naked body. 

“My guess is you remembered that fact about her…decided to give her no choice but to have some…let her guard down a bit…” her finger dipped down under the sheets, lightly tracing your dick that was already at full attention. “Am I right, Sammy?” 

You swallowed hard, your head and your dick pounding. You ran over the thought in your head. “I was just, trying to celebrate. Y’know, being in Vegas, and stuff…” her hand began more intense movement, gripping with a bit more force now. 

“Mmm, I think you’re lying to me, baby. Tell me the truth.” She whispered, mouth ghosting your ear. 

“I might have…remembered that fact, from a long time ago…” you managed, falling apart at her soft but firm touch. Her hand began moving steadily up and down now, slowly but surely. 

Elle giggled in your ear. “Well, I think it worked. I saw you two having fun on the piano over there…looked very carefree…”

Shit. 

“We didn’t, it was nothing, Elle..I prom-”

Her hand left your length, and instead her fingertip found your lips, effectively hushing you. You felt a groan leave your chest at the loss of contact. “Shh, Sam. It’s okay. I told you it’s okay, remember? I like watching you flirt with her…” 

Her hand returned under the sheets as you arched back into her grip, finding her momentum again as she palmed you. 

“Mmm, do you, baby? Like to watch me talk to her, touch her, make her get all flustered?” You went on, turning slightly to pull her up to sit on you. Your hands found her hips, squeezing them in the place you knew she liked. 

“I still remember all the ways to turn her on…made some of them up myself, you know. Learned what she likes and doesn’t…what made her go insane for me…” 

She leaned down to tower over you, your hands now finding her breasts as she rolled her hips over you. “Tell me, Sammy. Tell me what turns her on, makes her excited.”

Your headache was fading away, as all the blood had now rushed to another part of your body. Elle reached up and took her hair free from the towel, letting the long wet strands fall across her shoulders and back. Fucking gorgeous. Her hand snaked up your stomach and cupped around your throat, squeezing lightly as her eyes bored into yours. Your head flew back into the pillow at the contact. 

“She likes that. She likes that a lot.” You huffed out. “She loved it when I wrapped my hand around her throat, made her eyes water…made her beg…” 

“Mmhmm, go on…” Elle said, continuing to grind on you. 

“She liked being talked to, adored, told how good she was doing…always did so well for me…” you breathed, your heart pounding in your ears. “She liked when I would control her, take over the reins, give her no choice but go with it. Drove her wild.”

Just then Elle sat up, letting you enter her all the way to the hilt on the first thrust. “God, fuck me, Elle…” you strangled out as she began to bring herself up and down on you. She brought her mouth down to your neck, lightly nipping at the skin. 

“So she liked for you to fuck her just how I like you to, hmm? That’s really sweet…” she said. 

“Ha, there was nothing sweet about it, baby. Only sweet sometimes…fuck you’re killing me…” she began to pick up her pace as your hands dug into the bedsheets. “You’re so perfect, Elle, I swear to God.” 

“Oh, so she liked it slow and sweet, too, then? Like this?” She steadied her movements, right as you were about to topple over the edge. “She didn’t like it rough all the time, did she? Liked for you to go slow, let her feel you…did you make love to her Sammy?”

Her words hit you in the guts. How the hell can you answer that? You decided to change up the question. 

“She did…like it slow sometimes, yeah.” You flipped Elle over on her side as you parted her legs, sliding one underneath you and one over your hip as you faced each other, lying on your sides. You reentered her, hitting a whole new angle and giving you more access to be in control. 

“She liked for me to move her hips for her…hit her impossibly deep…” you groaned as you drove yourself into Elle, keeping eye contact as you spoke. You lifted her leg into the crook of your elbow and held it there, spreading her wide. 

“Sammy, shit, you’re so deep...” her face was absolutely wrought with bliss, her mouth hanging open as she hung onto your every word. 

You stayed there, letting her feel you brush against her cervix as you began to feel her muscles contracting around you. 

“That’s all I’ve got, baby. Right there. Can you feel me there?” You asked as your hand left her leg for a second and felt her stomach, matching your palm to where you lay deep inside her. 

“Yeah, yes I feel you there…god baby…” she breathed. 

You returned to holding her leg for her. “If I keep going like this, you won’t like me later. You’ll be able to feel it for days, Elle.” You warned, knowing that hitting her that deep in this position might make her incredibly sore. 

“I don’t care, just do it, I need you there, fuck, just keep going.” She was gasping for air as you started your movements again, trying to hold back slightly and not hurt her. “I wanna feel you for days, Sammy…watch you up on stage knowing you destroyed me, make it hurt to walk…please…” 

Goddamn, this woman…

You followed her instruction, rolling in and out of her, staying buried deep and hitting her as far as you could go. Her sounds became more strangled as you felt her drawing closer to her release, pulling your hair and whimpering into your mouth as she let the white hot heat rush over her, sending her entire body into a fit of shakes and seizes. Her cries could probably be heard from the hallway of the hotel, but you didn’t care. 

You were following close behind, your release shuddering through your body, low and blinding, as her hand reached between you to squeeze your balls, making your orgasm all the more intense. 

The two of you stayed in the position while you regained composure, a mess of sweat and limbs as you peered into each other's eyes. 

“You know I love the hell out of you, right baby?” You said, still out of breath. 

She placed a sweet kiss to your lips. “Yes I do. And you know I’m always coming home to you. I’m yours. I swear to it, babe.” 

You smiled as you disconnected from her, standing to wipe your face with your hands. You glanced back to her satisfied body, still wrapped up in the sheets, hair damp and tangled. 

“You’re a damn angel, Eleanor. I’m getting in the shower. Gotta go play music for some band called Metallica.” 

——

“Win anything last night, Daniel?” You asked as you approached him backstage, the four of you gathering to reconvene for soundcheck at the stadium. 

“Hell no! Got my ass handed to me on the slots. Josh won $600, though.” He responded, walking toward the stage. 

“I sure as shit did! Hit big on the poker table, too. But I put it right back in. Ha ha!” He rubbed his hands together. 

“Sounds like you guys had a good time then. I for one am extremely hungover.” Jake went on, rubbing his eyes underneath his sunglasses. 

“Same. I feel rough. I drank like 4 coffees and three bottles of water today, nothing has helped. I’m about to hair-of-the-dog it.” You admitted, feeling better than you did this morning, but still not up to par. “I think I need a nap. A back massage, and a nap.”

“Well hell, what did you two get into last night? Stay at the speakeasy all night? A few too many?” Josh asked, fluffing his hair with his fingers. 

You glanced to Jake more quickly than you’d ever glanced before, being met with him doing the same. 

“Yeah, we…drank too damn much. Then Sam had the bright idea to order champagne. We were…having a good time…” Jake said, letting his voice trail off. 

“Ohh, is that right. A good time. Were Elle and Y/N with you all night too?” Daniel inquired, bringing his knowing eyes to yours, licking below his bottom teeth. 

“Yep.” You responded, popping the ‘p’. 

Daniel raised his eyebrows and walked closer to you. “Hmm. Maybe I’ll hang out with you guys, tonight, huh Sam?” He elbowed you in the ribs. 

You began soundcheck, and pushed through your hangover with ease. All you could think about was getting some food, heading back to the room, cranking the AC, and sleeping for a couple of hours before you had to come back. 

After wrapping up and placing your bass back in the case, you were standing talking to the guys, making plans for the evening after the show. The plan was to hit the casino again, mingle around the hotel and celebrate. 

“What time is it?” You asked. 

“10:22.” Jake responded, pulling out his phone. 

“Perfect. I can sleep for a little bit.” 

You pulled Daniel to the side, away from your brothers. “Listen, I know you said you want to hang out with us tonight, but. If…things actually go where I think they were headed last night, I…you might maybe want to stay with Josh. Maybe.” You stammered out. 

Daniel grinned from ear to ear. “Hah! I knew it. I put a bug in your brain the other day, didn’t I?”

“Shut up. Maybe. It was kind of…already presenting itself. Anyway. I hate you for not ever telling me about your wild past with Heidi. But now, I don’t know. Maybe I need your help. Maybe not. I don’t know.” You truly were swimming in uncharted waters. 

“Don’t worry about it, Sam. There’s nothing that can go wrong, just. Respect boundaries. Talk, listen. You know. Communicate.” He went on, lying a hand to your shoulder. Suddenly reality hit him in the face. “Holy shit Sam, is this really happening though?! Is…Jake…going too?”

“I said I don’t know, Daniel! Fuck! The way things were last night, and the way Elle talked…I…it could? Things got, extremely flirty. Between…” you gestured your head toward Jake. 

“What? Him and Elle?” He asked, whispering. 

“They were in awfully close quarters, man. And Y/N, god, she was. Definitely in my realm. This is just. I can’t fucking wrap my head around it.” You said, pulling your sunglasses back down over your eyes, the sun beating down a little too hard. 

“Ok, I’ll force Josh to go do other things, as soon as you give me the word. I’ll drag him to a comedy show or some shit.” Daniel said. 

You sighed, thankful. “Thank you, Daniel. I love you. This is weird.”

“Love you too. Sure is.” He laughed as you walked back to meet with Jake and Josh. 

The four of you hurriedly started to head back to the hotel, and you were already queueing up a doordash order. Suddenly, Richard was by your sides, clipboard and laptop in hand. 

“Ok guys, so now we’re going to head to side stage to do a radio interview. We’ll be set up at that table, there, and it’ll be all four of you. See you in ten.” He said. 

“Wait, what? What radio interview?” Jake asked.

“Yeah, I don’t…remember hearing anything about an interview…” Josh followed up. 

“It was added to your schedules last minute. I sent you all an email this morning.” Richard said flatly. 

“Email? You’re joking right? We don’t check that shit!” You added, maybe a little too nonchalantly. 

“Well, maybe you should start. It’s going to be our main port of communication from now on.” Richard stated. 

“Why can’t you just, I don’t know, text us?” Jake said with heavy sarcasm. “That’s what our last coordinator did. Made things really easy.”

Richard walked toward Jake, cutting him off before he could make another suggestion. “Yes and your last coordinator was fired, wasn’t she, Mr. Kiszka? For inappropriate behavior with a band member, if I remember correctly. And texting isn’t appropriate behavior. We’ll talk through email, just like corporate asks. I suggest you turn on your notifications.” And with that, he was gone. 

Uh oh, that was definitely not the right thing to say to Jake right now. 

You were all stunned into silence as you collectively looked to Jake, his fists balled and his lips pursed. You could feel the negative energy flowing off of him. 

“Okay, well he’s a fucking asshole!” Danny piped up. 

“Yeah, a real peach.” Was all Jake could manage, quietly. 

Josh rubbed the bridge of his nose. “God, I wish we had some say in who the hell they hire for us. Anyway, let’s just get through this interview. Hopefully it will be a short one.”

“It better be. Or I’m changing the entire setlist to only songs with keys because I don’t feel like standing up.” You whined, semi-serious. 

“Maybe you should have played the drums, then.” Danny laughed, punching you in the gut. “Suck it up.”

—

Luckily, the interview only lasted about twenty minutes, and you were happy to be on your way back to the hotel, ready to fight your hangover. You ordered your food for delivery, got to your room, stripped down to your boxers, and cranked the air conditioning to arctic. 

You

11:15am: Hey babe, hope you’re having fun with Y/N. I’m gonna eat and take a giant nap. I have an alarm set. See you in a few hours. I love you! 

You turned your alarm up loud, and set your phone to do not disturb. You ate your food in under five minutes, and curled up into the plush and cozy sheets to let dreamland take over. 

Your sleep was dreamless, and when you were finally awoken by a knock on the door, you found yourself in the exact same position you’d fallen asleep in. Good sleep. You heard the knock again, and drug yourself from the bed to look through the peephole. You opened the door quickly. It was Elle. 

“Hey baby, you okay?” You asked, eyes still adjusting to the hallway light. 

“Yes, just forgot my keycard in here. How was your nap?” She asked, lying a quick kiss to your cheek. 

“It was perfect. I feel a ton better.” You glanced to the clock on the table; you’d slept for two and a half hours. Just enough to get you through the rest of the night. 

“Good baby, I’m glad. I’m still pretty hungover, myself but. I’m making it.” Elle laughed. She sat down hard on the bed, removing her shoes and clothes. “My turn to nap, now.” She hopped to the top of the bed where you had just been, covering herself up. 

“Y/N is busy backstage helping the crew. She still feels a little bit weird being around everybody after she technically got fired, but. They’re treating her normally, thank god. I think they missed how she ran things, to be honest.”

“Well, that’s good. Hopefully she will still get to keep doing some of that, now that we know about Richard.” You said, standing to stretch and clean up your food trash from earlier. 

“What about Richard?” She asked. 

“Oh, just that we learned he’s a power-hungry corporate dickwad in the first two minutes we were with him today. I hope he treats Y/N well. He already pissed Jake off once, would hate to see that happen again.”

No, you wouldn't, actually. 

“Well fuck, that sucks! You’ll have to tell Y/N to watch out for him.” Elle responded, yawning. 

“I think Jake already did, or he was going to maybe after tonight when he could talk in private. Honestly, the whole crew would go to bat for her if something were to be said, anyway.” You said. 

“Good.” Elle said, cuddling her face in her pillow. “You ready for tonight?” She asked. 

Your brain went on autopilot for a second. You climbed back over to the bed, brushing Elle’s pretty waves from her face. “For the show? Or for after…” you insinuated. 

“Hmm…both…” she purred. 

“The show? Yes. The after party? Absolutely…” you went on, bending down to touch your lips to hers. “And what are the plans, exactly?”

She turned to her side, facing the wall away from you. “Mmm, I guess we’ll just have to see where the night takes us, won’t we baby?”

——

HER POV

“Y/N, you’re still going to check out our stage fits, right?” Danny said as he spun quickly across the floor, posing to show off his brand new outfit. 

Well, you hadn’t thought about it much, if you were being honest. 

You stood from your place on the couch. “Yeah, I guess I’ll have to! I don’t think Richard would want to fix your cuffs and tuck your sleeves, would he?” You joked, brushing across his broad shoulders. 

He smiled. “I don’t think he would do half the things you used to do for us, actually.” 

“I think you’re right. I haven’t been around him much yet, but he seems like he sucks.” You responded as you turned Danny around to inspect the back of his outfit. 

“He does. I hope you step all over his toes. Nothing he can do to you. You belong to us now.” He went on in a joking growl that made you giggle. 

“Oh, I belong to you now, huh?” You stepped back, laughing. 

“Yep. You’re not going anywhere, babe.” He answered with a wink. 

“You look perfect, Daniel.” You said, admiring his outfit. 

“You look perfect!” He spun away again, heading straight for the drink cart. Oh. That was, sweet. 

Just then Josh bounded into the space, filling the area with a radiant energy. “I would say it’s my turn to be checked out, but you’ve probably already done that without my knowledge.” He looked to you in question. 

“Ah, guilty. You have been dressed and ready for like three hours, Josh.” You admitted. “You look extremely handsome. I really love that suit.” 

Black with shiny gold embellishments, and he had it unzipped just enough to show some skin.  

“Thank you, gorgeous.” He said as he kissed your cheek. “I’m really happy you’re back with us. So is Jake. Seriously, you’re still making things so much easier for us.” 

“I’m glad to be here Josh. I’m not going anywhere.” You said, parroting Danny’s words. 

“Hey, where’s Elle? I need her to finish putting my rhinestones on like, quickly.” He asked, looking around. He found her seated in the corner, adorning her own face with stones and sparkles. 

“Hey! Can you finish me up? You watched as he sat cross-legged in front of her, patiently waiting to get the rest of his signature look completed. Her hands worked quickly but diligently, using extreme concentration as she glued and stuck the rhinestones exactly where he had mapped them out for her. 

You watched as she smiled at his candid talk, goofed with him while she stayed transfixed on the task at hand. Her long hair falling over her shoulder as she leaned into him, making sure the rhinestones fell exactly where they needed to. She sat back and examined her work, comparing each of his cheeks to see that they mirrored one another, then went right back in to her work. You watched as her eyes flitted from side to side, and she stuck out the tip of her tongue ever so slightly when she’d need the extra bit of concentration. Her hand balanced on his cheekbone, and the other on his knee.

“Damn, you’d think Elle was the famous one in the room, not us.” You heard Sam’s sardonic voice break you from your daydream. You felt his mouth come close to the back of your ear. “I know she’s gorgeous, but you might wanna pick your jaw up off the floor before someone notices you staring at her…” he mumbled before stepping away to make a drink with Danny. 

Fuck, Sam. 

You regained your composure, unaware how on earth you got so flustered just by watching Elle. The next thing you knew, Jake was by your side, scooping you and dipping you low to the ground, laying a wet kiss to your lips. The disorientation from watching Elle, to having Sam in your ear, to Jake turning you upside down and kissing you with more passion than was necessary in company was enough to make your head spin. 

When he brought you back up, you caught Elle’s eyes, a devious grin creeping to her face. “You look gorgeous today, baby.” Jake purred quietly in your ear as you held eye contact with Elle. “You excited for tonight?” 

You ripped your eyes from Elle’s bringing them to meet Jake’s. “Yeah, I am. Are you?” You answered quietly. 

“Mmhmm…more than ready…” he said again, making sure you had balanced back on your feet. Jake walked over to join the guys for a drink, pouring something over his handful of crushed ice. 

“I’m starting off a little lighter tonight, guys. Still detoxing from last night.” Sam said loudly. 

“Oh, don’t be a wuss, Sam. You took a freaking nap today.” Danny quipped. 

Just then, your radio signaled. “Greta Van Fleet- ten minutes to stage, repeat, ten minutes to stage.” You fiddled with the volume and raised your eyebrows to the guys, then joined Elle on the couch. 

You watched as they grabbed their drinks, and gathered in their tiny circle, hugging the backs of each other. “Are we ready to head into the ether, brothers?”

—

The Metallica shows were always so wild. The energy at these shows was different; obviously the fan base and crowd were mixed in a way that was brand new, but for some reason, mostly always ended up with everyone completely jamming. 

You and Elle stood side stage like you always did, basking in the sounds of your favorite people on the planet doing what they love. She took your hand about halfway through the set, intermingling your fingers with hers as she leaned her head on your shoulder. 

You watched as she made eyes to Sam, grabbing his attention and holding it. He raised his pointer finger to wave, and the two of you copied his action, raising your fingers to wave back at him. You quickly realized that he was most likely gesturing to just her, so you brought your hand down in embarrassment. Maybe not, though…the smile that plastered itself across Sam’s face was straight from hell, as he didn’t take his eye contact away from either of you for a solid 20 seconds. 

You knew that look. You knew his look…the one you’d seem a million times, the one that said ‘I want you. Now.’ and he was giving it to you both. 

Elle squeezed your hand in hers, definitely noticing the same thing at the same time as you. Her body heat was radiating, you could feel all your nerve endings on fire just from her innocent touch. What is this? You were certain you’d never felt this…way before…positive that after last night, you could feel this way a million more times, and it would never get old. 

Staring into Sam’s eyes from across the stage transported you back to last night, sitting on his lap at the piano as your hands sat on top of his, effortlessly moving across the keys as the sound filled the air. His knee bouncing up and down between your legs, his hand gently dusting your upper thigh…close but not close enough. Why were you still so starved for his touch? Could tonight be the night you get to feel it again?

Just then, Jake backed up, cutting between the line of vision, his eyes meeting Elle’s. He smirked, tossing his head back as he yelled at his guitar as the music swelled. 

“God, he really fucking plays that thing, doesn’t he?” Elle shouted in your ear. “Y/N, he’s got to be a freak, pardon my french.” 

“Oh, he is, believe me.” You shyly answered, remembering the welts that had now turned to red bruises on your backside. 

“Is he?” She pressed. 

You nodded, looking to her. “Not all the time, but…sometimes that Jake comes out to play.”

You could see her satisfied and inquisitive face light up, looking to watch him again. “Now that’s a story I’d like to hear, sometime.” You felt her free hand brush up and down your arm, sending a shiver through your body. Maybe you’d tell her. 

The guys played perfectly, zooming through their set without the slightest hiccup. As they kissed the crowd goodbye and exited the stage, you watched as Richard went to meet them, barking some type of strange order that made Josh throw his hands in the air after they separated. You and Elle shared a concerned glance, making your way over to them. 

“Fucking rest…? The fuck I will…He can’t tell us what we can and can not do. Haven’t even been off the stage 45 seconds, goddamnit.” Josh howled through the back hallways as you all bustled through to backstage. 

When you all gathered in the green room, you slammed the door shut behind you. “What the hell did he say, Josh?” 

He threw himself onto the couch while the other three started undressing. “The first thing he fucking said to me was ‘You four should go ahead and head back to your rooms to rest, big day tomorrow.’ No good show, no sounded good, no fuck you, anything. We’re getting on a god damn plane tomorrow to go home. I’m going to watch Metallica, and then go spend all my money on the slots. Fuckin’ go get rest. It’s 9:00, you moron!”

He yelled the last part to the closed door. The rest of you fought back laughter. Josh hardly ever got up in arms over things like this.

He sighed. “I’m sorry. He just, has really gotten under my skin. And quickly, too. I need some tea.” 

“Ya know Josh, that explosion just now wasn’t very champagne, caviar of you.” Sam said through a high laugh.

“Fuck you, Sam! In fact, you know what? That sounds good. Y/N, can you radio to crafts to get us some champagne? Sounds wonderful. Let’s celebrate.” He said, his hands flailing wildly. 

“Uhh, sure. Yeah, if that’s what you want Joshy.” You responded, reaching for your radio. 

“Oh no! More champagne?! I’m gonna be hungover again!” Sam whined, hanging his jacket across a hanger. He looked directly to you and Elle, a childlike smirk finding his lips as he winked and clicked his tongue to you. He knew exactly what that meant. 

You radioed for the few bottles of champagne as you heard Metallica take the stage, the deep bass sound booming and filling the stadium. 

“Here we go again, hm?” Elle said as she turned back to you, raising her brows. Your stomach flipped with nerves. Just get through the show. 

——

Standing side stage, the six of you had begun drinking heavily again, already forgetting about your still residual hangovers. Jake’s arms always found themselves wrapped around you, even after he’d disappear every few minutes to visit with others. Joints were being passed, beers being tossed, a true party happening once again. You felt your vision beginning to slack, your fingers and extremities tingling with every beat of your heart. 

Your ears were ringing by the time 'Nothing Else Matters' played; the encore drawing near a close. You and Elle were standing and swaying, the slow acoustic music filling your heavily blurred minds. Suddenly you felt Sam’s arm around your neck between you and Elle, pulling the two of you in to touch his cheeks as he sang. 

‘Never opened myself this way,

Life is ours, we live it our way

All these words, I don’t just say

And nothing else matters…’

He swayed the three of you even harder, his tipsy state showing through in his actions as the song went on. You shared a laugh with Elle at his expense as Jake joined your other side. 

‘Never cared for what they do!

Never cared for what they know!’

The four of you were screaming to the band, hot and heavy in your embraces as you sang and laughed. The song came to a close, and you felt Sam lean in close to Jake. 

“Let’s get out of here before Sandman?” He asked, and Jake nodded. 

“You ready, baby?” Jake asked you, and you felt your stomach fall again, the nerves coming back. Why did tonight feel so ominous?

——

JAKE POV

​​"Yeah, you can tell ol’dick, we are heading back…" you laugh, shaking hands with your guitar tech. 

“Yeah you’re heading back alright…” he laughs knowingly.

“See you next go ‘round?” you ask, raising your eyebrows.

“Can’t get rid of me fucker…” he laughs.

“Good man.” you say, lifting two fingers to wave as you rejoin your brothers and the girls.

You watch as Elle leans on Y/N, her arm around her waist as she whispers something in her ear. 

She really is trying to steal my damn woman.

As you join the group at the loading dock door Y/N spots you and instantly breaks free from Elle and throws herself into your arms, “Where did you go baby? I turned around and you were gone!” she asks, a touch of slur in her words. Ah, the champagne…

“Just went to tell my tech we were leaving, and I’d see him in a few days.” you answer, placing your arm around her shoulder as you all make your way out to the van. 

“What are we gonna do when we get back?” she asks.

“What would you like to do when we get back?” you reply.

“I’m feelin’ lucky. Gonna play a slot machine!” she says, rosy cheeks and full of smiles.

You pull your wallet from your pocket, and grab a crisp hundred from inside, handing it to her. “Play to your heart's desire…”

“Do you always carry around big bills like that?” she giggles.

“Not all the time, but we are in Vegas…”

—

The van deposits you at the hotel entrance, and you all file out one by one in a wave of shaky legs and loud voices. 

“To the bar!” Josh yells, throwing his pointer finger into the air.

Y/N laughs and follows after him, twisting your fingers with hers as she pulls you behind her. 

The six of you make your way to the bar, ordering various drinks and beers and everything you should never drink after a few bottles of champagne, and with the way Y/N was glued to your side you knew it would only take a few drinks until she was past her limit.

“Jakeeeee are you gonna come play with me?” she whines, sipping her drink.

“Play with you? Darlin’, right here?” you laugh, knowing full well what she actually meant.

“Nooo….I mean, yes. Maybe? Wait no…the slot machines…” she laughs.

“I know baby, and yeah, lead the way.” you say, waving a hand at Sam and the guys.

You watch her struggle to feed her bill into the token machine, the two of you laughing as the alcohol starts to enter your bloodstream. Finally the machine begins to spit out her tokens and she collects them all into your pockets with a giggle.

“What machine you want?” you ask, placing your hand on her waist as you spin the two of you around. 

“Oh! That one!” she says, pointing to the bright flashing machine in the corner.

You lead the way, pulling her behind you wondering what lady luck has in store for you tonight.

—

It had to have been close to an hour before you found Sam and Elle approaching you where you sat, bringing fresh drinks. You looked to the small table on your left seeing the empty glasses you and Y/N managed to collect over the past hour and cringed. You were definitely going to feel this in the morning. 

“Thanks brother…” you said, accepting the drinks from his hands. 

“Are you guys almost done? We want to go play at one of the card tables.” he says, placing his hands on hips.

You turn to Y/N, who is watching you, “What do you think babe, ready to go whoop their ass at poker?” you laugh.

“Yeah but let’s make it interesting.” she says deviously.

“How so?” Elle asks.

You raise your eyebrows to Y/N as she answers. “I don’t know, let’s make a bet or something.” she says.

“Let’s go. I’ll think.” Elle says, pulling Y/N up and walking hand in hand as she whispers to her.

You toss a look to Sam, who raises his eyebrows with a smirk.

It seemed the night was only just getting started.

—

Two short warm up rounds were played before the alcohol really started to kick into everyone's decision making. You had won both rounds as predicted, Sam never really having the best poker face. Elle however was giving you a run for your money.

“Okay, let’s play for real!” Sam said.

“Did you think of a good bet?” Y/N asks.

“Yeah Elle, what did you come up with?” Sam asks her. 

“We could do money, but that’s too predictable.  Where's the fun in that? I thought of something just a little more…enticing.” she finishes, locking eyes with Y/N.

“And what would that be?” you ask, voice low.

“Well… I was thinking, if I win, I get to take Y/N back to my room for the night…” she says, leaving all of your jaws positively on the floor.

Y/N leans over closer to Elle from across the table, “Deal.”

“Woah, hold on a damn second.” you say throwing your hands up looking across the table at Sam. “Sam why the fuck are you smiling. You have nothing to smile about.”

“No. No. I like that bet Jake. It sounds like a good bet…If you know you’ll win there shouldn’t be an issue, right?” Y/N says, running her hand up your leg. 

You lean into her ear, cupping her jaw with your right hand, “You know what she’s insinuating right, love?” you ask, hoping to clarify for her. 

She turns her head to your ear, letting her lips graze your earlobe, “Oh I am fully aware of what she’s insinuating Jacob…But you haven’t lost a game yet…Will I end the night in your bed or hers?”

You felt your dick grow hard at the possibility of either of those things happening.

“Mine. Always mine. You can fucking count on that.” you say, pushing the hair back from her neck.

“So do it. Win the game.” she says, settling back in her chair.

You were ready to roll the dice. Let the chips fall where they may. What’s the worst that could happen after all?

You lock eyes with Elle, and with a deep breath you extend your hand to shake, “Deal.”

—

An hour later it was down to just you and Elle as the waitress dropped off the third round of drinks. Your brain had grown fuzzy and your eyes blurry. But your mind was still firmly rooted in its one task. Winning this game. 

“What’s it gonna be Kiszka?” Elle asks, tapping her fingers on the blue felt table.

You could tell by the sly grin on her face that she thought she had this game in the bag, but you were positive you had the winning hand. Y/N leaned on your shoulder as she raked her hand up and down your leg, grazing your dick on more than one occasion. 

“Ladies first…” you quip, raising your eyebrow in her direction. 

She looks over to Sam, with a glint in her eye, before laying her cards out on the table.

“A full house…” she smiles cockily. 

Fuck. You fucking did it.

“Ahh…” you say, turning to Y/N. “It’s just too bad really. You could have had a lot of fun…I’m sure she’s good… Just not good enough.” you say, flashing your cards across the table.

“A straight flush. Game over, Eleanor.” you smirk.

“Shit!” she says, slamming her fist down onto the table.

Sam laughs a defeated laugh and as you turn back to Y/N you catch the look of disappointment in her eye. 

“Sorry to disappoint you sweetheart…” you say smugly. 

She swallows back her words as she shakes her head, “No, it’s fine. I knew you were going to win anyways.” she lies.

Damn, she really did want to go back with Elle. Maybe you should have folded?

“Whatever money bags, next round of drinks is on you.” Elle says, standing up from the table.

—

HER POV

“Just get me a water for now, I think I need to hydrate some.” You said as you all approached the tiny and dark-lit bar, club music pounding through the speakers. This wasn’t their normal type of scene…

“Okay, baby.” Jake said as he laid a kiss to your temple, and you drifted off to the bathroom. Elle didn’t see you slip away, so you took a second to rush off and regain your composure. After relieving yourself, you went to the sink to wash your hands and dab some cold water on your face. 

Had you really just agreed to go back to Elle’s room if Jake lost? Your best friend…to do…god knows what?

You had, but it didn’t feel wrong. In fact, you were a  bit disappointed that he’d won. Where the hell is this coming from? 

You looked at yourself in the mirror, pulling out some powder from your bag and freshening your already flushed face. You dried your hands well, and spritzed yourself with a little bit of perfume before heading back out to the bar. 

You found the crew sharing the very corner ‘L’ of the bar, an empty seat saved for you between Elle and Jake. You hopped up on the high barstool, your high heels resting gently on the metal rung. 

“Damn, you smell fuckin good…” Jake said, bringing his arm around your waist as he leaned to breathe you in. He nipped at your neck, sending a shot of pleasure directly between your legs. You tilted your head to give him more access, then lifted the glass of ice water, sipping slowly from the straw. 

“Thank you baby, you should love it. You got it for me.” He looked at you, puzzled. 

The colorful lights were bouncing off his face, accentuating his features. “Mmm, wasn’t me. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten you perfume.”

“That was me, babe. Last year, remember? And yes, you do smell phenomenal.” Sam said, leaning behind Elle to solve the mystery. He’d pulled his hair back, letting strands fall freely around his face. 

Oh yes. Oops. Wrong brother. 

You chugged the water down, desperately hoping that it would help you out tomorrow morning. But you didn’t want to lose your buzz for the night, so you switched back to your regular drink. 

The conversation was picking up, and Sam and Jake had moved their barstools closer to you and Elle, forcing you to sit almost shoulder to shoulder. Jake’s hand had found your thigh, rubbing little circles as he occasionally squeezed, each time going higher and higher above the hem of your dress. 

“So Jacob.” Elle began as a loud, bass heavy club song began. “Y/N told me something about you tonight. Something I wasn’t aware of.”

Oh fuck, Elle. No. Your face grew hot. 

“Oh yeah? And what was that?” Jake followed, swallowing his drink. 

“She said that you sometimes aren’t as nice as you seem to be…can sometimes have a little rudeness to you…”

You felt Jake’s body stiffen at her words. 

“Remember last night when I asked you if you were…innocent?” She leaned in closer. “Asked you if you ever acted the way you do when you play guitar, off stage?” 

Jake cleared his throat as Elle leaned past you. You glanced to Sam. He was chewing on his straw, awaiting an answer from Jake, just as anticipatory as you were. 

“Uh, yeah. I remember you…saying something like that…” he answered, losing all of his normal foxy composure. 

“Well, you never answered me.” She sat back against her chair, eyebrows raised. 

He stayed blank, unsure of what to say.

After a few seconds, he raised his pointer finger to her, motioning for her to lean back into him as their faces met right in front of yours. 

“I guess you’ll have to continue to use your imagination, baby.” He sat back, placing his arm across your shoulders again. “Isn’t that right, Sam?”

Sam held his hands up in surrender. 

“Or, I guess you could just ask Y/N, she could probably give you every detail you’ve ever wondered about me…hm? Right babe? Funny you wonder those things about me, Elle. Really hyping up my ego here.” You could tell he was trying to get under her skin a bit. Piss her off. 

Elle shot back the rest of her drink while Sam resituated himself in his chair, clearly interested in where this conversation was going. 

“Of course she could tell me, Jacob. And I’m sure she will. Just like she told me everything about the kind of lover your brother was, too.” Elle spat. 

Oh fuck! 

Wait, you hadn’t told her many details about you and Sam’s sex life…she’s just trying to get under Jake’s skin now. Hilarious. 

Your hand flew up to your mouth, stifling a laugh. Their faces were close to touching now, as you leaned back in your chair and let them bicker. You rested your elbow on the back of your chair, letting your arm hang behind it.  Sam was watching from behind Elle, loving the competitive discourse. 

Elle spoke again. “It’s funny, from what I’ve heard and experienced, you two are very similar, in those matters. Sorry to you both if that was something you never wanted to learn about each other, but. Here we are. Sharing our truths.”

“So, hm. Did she ever tell you why she came back to me then? And left Sam?” Jake pressed, cocking his head to the side. 

“She went back to you because of me, stupid. I came back into Sam’s life. She didn’t leave him.” Elle answered coolly. 

Fuck. 

“Interesting. So, did she ever tell you which one of us was better then? Give you a little rating system?” He asked. 

You knew this was all fun and games, but it was so entertaining that you couldn’t look away. They were going for each other’s throats. Sam turned in his chair, and leaned in closer. 

“No, she didn’t. Not sure she ever will. That’s something that’s probably left up for interpretation, don’t you think Jake?” She answered, so close to his face that their noses were almost touching. 

Jake’s hand was still on your thigh, squeezing and burying his fingertips into your skin. You looked to his eyes, fluttering back and forth between Elle’s lips and eyes. He wanted to kiss her. Right here. 

“Why don’t you guys just scrap out in the parking lot? God…” Sam said, breaking the tension. 

They never separated, though. In fact, you could feel Jake’s breathing begin to pick up, see his jaw slide from side to side. Suddenly you felt Sam’s hand grab yours behind Elle, threading his fingers with yours. You squeezed it hard, showing him that you were turned on, too. His thumb massaged your palm, always his signal that he understood your feelings without you having to say anything at all. 

You turned your head slightly to meet Sam’s eyes, blown out with anticipation as the skinny straw hung from between his teeth. You were both awaiting their next move. 

Jake took a deep breath and exhaled through his nose. “I’ll tell you what, Elle. I’ll make this interesting. I’ll let you take Y/N upstairs with you on one condition.” 

She sat back. “Ok, and what is that?” She asked. 

Jake looked to you, upping the stakes. “Y/N, kiss her. Right here.” 

You almost threw up. What?

“What?” You asked, watching as Elle smiled a devious grin. 

“Yeah Jake, what?” Elle repeated. 

“She’s got to show me that she wants to go back with you. I need to trust that’s what she wants. So, if we’re up here sharing all our secrets, kiss her, Y/N.” Jake went on, sitting back. 

Your face flushed, you felt hot. Very hot. And drunk. And excited. You wanted to hear Jake talk to you like that to the end of your days. But most of all, you wanted to kiss Elle. Right here at the bar. 

Sam’s fingers were still wrapped up with yours, and you saw Jake glance and see your hands together, before he looked right back to you. “Go on, if it’s what you want. If you don’t, you don’t have to. Elle will understand.”

You swallowed. Sam’s hand squeezed yours again, giving you confidence. 

You turned to Elle, who sat pretty to herself in the chair beside you, giving you a look that said ‘you don’t have to, but please do…”

You turned to her, took her chin in your hand, and lightly pulled her toward you, planting a sweet and longing kiss to her lips, leaving yourself there for just a few beats. Your eyes flitted closed as you let yourself enjoy the moment…soft and gentle and easy. You squeezed Sam’s hand, and he returned it. Jake’s hand tightened on your thigh. 

Just like that, it was over as quickly as it started. You didn’t feel embarrassed, nervous, or anxious much anymore, instead you felt extremely excited. 

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Jake said blankly as you separated from Elle, the two of you breaking into laughter. 

You released Sam’s hand as you picked up your drink, feeling Jake’s hand rub roughly. “That’s my girl…” he growled into your ear. “Not so bad, huh?” 

“He’s just kidding, Y/N. You don’t have to come upstairs with me. But, I’m glad you did that. That was very nice…” Elle cooed as she sipped her drink. You smiled, letting her know that you were glad you did, too. 

You cleared your throat as everyone came back to earth. “I never said I didn’t want to go upstairs…” you said almost quietly. Jake shot his head to you, eyes wide, then to Sam. You could tell they were speaking to each other with a look, so you decided not to say anything more. 

Jake ordered another round of drinks, and you were feeling sufficiently drunk now, as was everyone else. The music was loud and booming, making you want to move. You didn’t care how, you just wanted to move. You and Jake had split into your own conversation for a few minutes, mostly him whispering sweet nothings into your ear, telling you how beautiful you looked. 

Suddenly you felt something hit your elbow that was resting against the bar, something flat and soft. You looked down, finding a small white napkin on the bar. You glanced up to Sam and Elle, who had stood from their seats and were pushing their stools in. 

“Tab’s paid.” Elle said, shooting you a wink, and blowing you a kiss. They walked behind you toward the exit, Sam grabbing onto the back of Jake’s neck as they left. 

“See ya…” you trailed off, watching them walk hand in hand out the door. You looked down to the napkin again, letting your eyes adjust to it in the dark and flashing lights as you read the messy scrawl. 

Holy shit. 

You weren’t sure what to do with this. Was this an invitation? 

You slid the napkin over to Jake, not saying a word. You tipped back the rest of your drink, letting the ice hit your lips, as you took a little inside your mouth. 

His head slowly turned to yours, his eyes wide. “Did they…”

You nodded, crunching hard on the ice. 

Jake cleared his throat again. “Uh, okay. Well. What do you, uh... Do you want to…go up? With them? Or. We can go to our room…”

“I wanna go. To their room. If you do.” You answered confidently. 

Jake finished his drink, setting the glass back onto the bar top, and grinning as he turned to you, “Okay then. Let’s go.”

.

.

.

.

.

.

Part 2

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[bloodngutsr]

thinking about oil driller!sam and cowboy!dean.

thinking about dean who's known pretty well in the rundown little town of lawrence. he works for cheap, takes the odd little jobs when he's not herding cattle or helping fix the newest leak in someone's home or lending a hand at ol' bobby singer's farm.

dean whose dad pops in and out of town every few months to get drunk and ask for a couple of ten dollar bills - until, out of the blue, he stops showing. until dean gets a letter declaring him dead, with nothing but his journal full of scattered notes and his hat to show for it. dean doesn't even get to see his father's body.

but the town holds a funeral, because john may not have been a good man, but he had a family and a place in their church. and someone contacts dean's half-brothers - brothers he didn't know, by the names of sam and adam.

sam and adam come to town for a few days, making arrangements to stay with dean. unfortunately, sam and dean meet and immediately clash. dean rarely shaves his stubble and drinks while he works and whistles off-key tunes loud enough to make your ears bleed, while sam wears suits as pristine as the desert will allow for and tucks his head for prayer when the priest bids john goodbye and uses fancy language that grinds dean's gears. they're too busy squabbling to acknowledge that the heat that boils inside of them whenever they see each other might not just be anger.

by the time the few days are up and the funeral is over, both of them are all too ready to never see each other again. adam left as soon as the funeral ended, prepared to get away from his bickering brothers. dean makes it very clear that he wants sam out of his house as soon as possible.

sam is going out for a walk on his last morning in the town when he notices oil seepage down some of the more scenic paths. it's half out of spite that he buys some land in town, just enough to set up a drill and hire a few boys. he has the money to spend, even if it doesn't end up being anything good. unfortunately, most of his best crew can't get out there quick, not on the half-hearted chance of a good well.

he asks around town for the strongest men with the cheapest prices, and nearly everyone offers dean as the most reliable choice - and he ends up ruling out almost everyone else - maybe they're not fit to do the job, maybe they're just not interested in oil work. dean has been strapped for any bigger jobs since the spring roundup has finished up, so when sam disdainfully offers him a job, he has little choice but to agree.

it ends with the two of them stuck together in a little well, maybe 4x4 feet if we're being generous. sam doesn't usually get so hands-on - not anymore, at least - but he feels bad leaving dean down there alone.

there's oil bubbling up over their boots and onto their pants, coating the bottom lungs of the ladder they've messily hammered into the wall. the air is thick with their shared breath and the heat of their bodies as they drive the drill deeper into the rock. sam's overjoyed with the vein they've run into and dean is feeling the satisfaction of effort well spent and they're almost pressed together in that little space, heaving chest to heaving chest - and they're kissing before they're even thinking about it, adrenaline and unclean air and unfiltered heat pushing them against each other.

they're tangled in a sweaty mess, and dean's shirt is coated in oil and dust from where he's been pushed into the rock wall behind him and sam's bangs are stuck to his forehead with sweat, his fingers coated in thick, dark fluid that drips like pure shadow.

when they break apart, dark shadows cast over their faces and noses still brushing each other's, sam tries to swipe the oil off of dean's cheek with his thumb.

all he does is rub it in.

[hoshologies]

11:32 pm, bang c.

genres &&. warnings — angst, hurt/no comfort &&. crying, heartbreak, mutual pining but forbidden love, are you asking too much of chan?

word count — 1.3k

note — inspired specifically by that one line in seasons by wave to earth "i can't be your life because i'm afraid i'll ruin your life."

it feels like your bones rattle with every step you take, rushing down this stairwell faster than you ever have before. the last time you descended this particular staircase, it had been with a smile on your face and a fluttering in your heart, hope for a future that you thought was about to be within reach. you’d never been more wrong in your life.

“c’mon, can you just stop and come back upstairs? please.” chan’s voice echoes above you, his footsteps drawing closer and pushing you faster down the stairs.

your attitude towards that man has taken a complete one-eighty over the last ten minutes, drastically different than it had been when you’d shown up for what you’d begun calling your weekly date night: takeout and movies in his bed. stupid for so many things, so many reasons. you have to get out of here; there’s no fire in the building, but your chest burns like you’re breathing in hot smoke.

it’s a relief when your feet finally hit the bottom floor and you step out into the cool night air of seoul. the breath you heave trembles with tears, but it’s still so welcome, chilling the ache in your lungs. glad to be out of that damned suffocating building, you take two steps in the direction of the subway when the boy you can’t get away from fast enough bursts out onto the sidewalk behind you.

“wait!” chan is breathless, you can hear it in his voice; you don’t need to turn around to know that his chest is heaving, one of his hands resting over his belly button because it’s a scene you’ve been witnessed to many a time after he’s chased you around his apartment, laughing rather than crying. “can we please talk about this?”

any sadness you felt three seconds ago is scorched away, a fiery anger taking its place. talk? he wants to talk about this? he was doing plenty of that five minutes ago, shooting you down like it was nothing. no, now it’s your turn to talk.

you whip around on your heels, any semblance of calm dissipating. “talk? okay, sure. i’ll talk. fuck you, chris.” as far as you’re concerned, he’s lost all privileges to the sweet names you’ve been calling him for months. “you don’t wanna tell anybody about us? that’s fine. i get it. you don’t wanna go on dates in public? okay. i understand how important your image is to your job. i don’t complain, i’ve never complained. i come here at late hours to see you, even when i’m practically dead on my feet or have to be up early the next morning because seeing you is always the best part of my day.”

“i know–”

you shake your head, letting out a sarcastic huff of amusement. “i’m not done. so we have these nights, right? and we do all of these things together and you treat me so well. things are great and i feel comfortable and… fuck, how is someone not supposed to fall in love with you, huh? after all of the stuff we’ve done, how was i supposed to not catch feelings?”

you’re not done with your diatribe, but you need a second to catch your breath a second time. chan stands there, arms limp at his sides as he stares at you. his eyes are wide and sad and there is sadness and regret written all over his face, but no amount of puppy dog eyes is going to fix this situation the way they’ve fixed far more minor situations.

“i was nervous the whole fucking day, chris. i wanted tonight to be the night that i told you how i felt and after all the time we’ve spent together, the number of mornings i’ve woken up in your bed, i really thought you’d reciprocate–”

“i do!” he exclaims, completely exasperated; the frustration in his voice immediately sours the last few shreds of fond feelings. “i do feel the same. i told you that inside!”

you throw your hands into the air in irritation before you bring them back down to cover your face and turn on your heels away from the boy in front of you. this whole situation is fucking ridiculous and you find yourself wishing that you’d never gotten involved with him in the first place, something bitter and so far from the truth; meeting chan was the best thing that’s ever happened and you’ve never regretted a single thing you’ve done with him. but this is all too much.

“yeah, but you immediately followed it up with ‘but i can’t be with you,’” you reply, tears pooling at your waterline against your wishes. the last thing you want to do is cry in front of him… again.

you hear him take a step forward, his sneakers scuffing against the concrete. “because i can’t be with you the way you want me to be. i can’t give you what you need.”

one tear falls, a second follows, and then they just won’t stop. that dam has finally broken. you turn to face him again; you’ve cried in front of him once tonight, so it doesn’t really matter anymore. he’s seen you at your absolute worst anyways.

“who the fuck are you to decide that?” you question, voice trembling. your eyes are no doubt pleading. you’ve never begged him for anything ever, but you’re coming dangerously close to that territory now. “i’ve been content so far, haven’t i?”

“but that can always change,” he reasons, closing the gap between you entirely. you want him close, but at the same time, you want to push him away. he’s the last person you want to see right now yet also the only person you want to tell about all of this because he’s been everything to you; nobody understands you the way he does, knows you as intimately as him.

“oh my god. it’s been months, chan. if i wasn’t in this for the long run, i would have left already. i would have told you. the fact that i’m still standing here trying to reason it out with you should be proof enough that i don’t fucking care about what you think you can and can’t do for me because we’ve worked so many other things out before. why isn’t that enough?”

he goes silent and your personal corner of seoul goes silent with him. there’s nobody else out, but it feels like the entire world is watching this fold out, some ridiculous forbidden love that never even stood a chance because why would it have? you’re not part of his world, you never have been. you were stupid for thinking that somehow, he’d let you come along for the ride.

when he doesn’t answer, you laugh mirthlessly, more a scoff than anything. you take a step backwards and he goes to follow, but you shake your head.

“there. we did it. we talked. and you still don’t want to try and figure this out, even though you want this just as much as i do. so i think we’re done here.”

you turn on your heels again, ready to take the thirty minute walk to your apartment because you can’t bear to be around anyone else right now. chan calls for you to wait again, but you shake your head, pushing back tears.

“i’m done waiting, chris. i’ve been doing it for weeks, so now it’s your turn. figure out just how much you’ll fight for this if you want me as much as you say you do.”

leaving chan has always been a hard thing to do, but never has hard as this. you want to turn around and hug him tight, but you force yourself forward down the sidewalk. he has always been a fighter, so you want to believe he’ll fight for you, to have you. he’s never let you down before.

© hoshologies 2023. do not translate, copy, or repost my work.

[chronicangel]

rhapsody in green

Link to this fic on AO3. Words: 2786 Date posted: May 30, 2024

Summary: He tries to tell himself that he’s not being stood up. They said around six, and it’s only ten minutes past the hour. Around doesn’t mean six exactly, and sure, Lex got here half an hour early because he was worried he wouldn’t be able to find the place or something else would make him late, but Jimmy probably doesn’t have the same neuroses that Lex does. Maybe Jimmy hasn’t texted him saying where he is or what the hold up is, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything, does it?

Lex hasn’t been back to Suicide Slum since he left for college when he was 16, and every time the door to the bar Jimmy picked out opens up, he half-expects his father to walk in. It’s mostly college students, though, some sporting the traditional yellow and red of Metropolis University, many crowded together at one round booth in the corner and laughing loudly. There’s a TV playing some show that Lex doesn’t recognize and isn’t really paying attention to, and there’s outdoor seating with a pool table that no one has touched all night. He guesses six o’clock might not be the right hour for the pool crowd.

“Ya wan’ another water?” The bartender asks in something resembling a Boston accent, and Lex nods rather than answering out loud, jumping and turning to look when he hears the door open again. It’s just another college student, smiling and waving at her friends in the booth.

He tries to tell himself that he’s not being stood up. They said around six, and it’s only ten minutes past the hour. Around doesn’t mean six exactly, and sure, Lex got here half an hour early because he was worried he wouldn’t be able to find the place or something else would make him late, but Jimmy probably doesn’t have the same neuroses that Lex does. Maybe Jimmy hasn’t texted him saying where he is or what the hold up is, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything, does it?

Face it, Lex, he thinks as an older pair of men walk up to the bar to order a pitcher of beer. Jimmy probably realized that you two were incompatible and decided not to go through with the date. He’s probably sitting in his apartment trying to figure out how to text you to cancel. You don’t even know why he was interested in you in the first place.

The door swings open again, and before Lex can even turn to look, the bartender grins and throws his arms up in the air, his green sweater untucking from his pants to reveal the hairy bottom of a fat belly. “Jimmy! I ain’t seen ya in months! I was startin’ to think ya forgot about ol’ Bibbo Bibbowsky.”

“I graduated, Bibbo!” Jimmy laughs, and he sounds somewhat breathless, like he ran to get here. “I’m working at the Daily Planet now, it’s not a 10 minute walk from the apartment to catch a quick drink anymore.” There aren’t any chairs at the bar, so Jimmy leans his elbows on it, one of them bumping up against Lex’s.

“Well I never understood the college types,” Bibbo dismisses with a wave. “Ya still drinkin’ a starry night?”

Jimmy gives a thumbs up and then turns to Lex. “I’m so sorry that I’m late,” he starts, bowing his head down in what Lex assumes to be shame. “My last meeting of the day ran over and then I walked all the way back to the apartment and realized I forgot my jacket at the Planet and--”

“It’s fine,” Lex dismisses, with a sort of casual coolness in his voice that he thinks doesn’t betray the fact that he was totally panicking about whether Jimmy was ghosting him or not only a few minutes ago at all. “So this was the bar that you hit up in college?”

“This is the bar that everyone hits up in college,” Jimmy corrects while Bibbo slides him a glass of the same dark liquor that they were drinking when they first talked (really talked). It doesn’t look exactly the same, the gradient less smooth and fewer gold flakes suspended throughout. He guesses it’s probably cheaper. “You didn’t go to MU, did you?”

Lex shakes his head and takes a sip of his water. “The last thing that I wanted to do was lock myself in Metropolis for another five years,” he says. “I thought about going to Gotham U, but the crime rate is way too high to live there sustainably unless you’re super rich and can afford the nice neighborhoods. I ended up going to Columbia.”

“Up in New York?” Jimmy asks as though there’s another one. Lex nods anyway. “My parents went there. That’s where they met. Mom always told me that I shouldn’t put myself into so much debt for a journalism degree that I’d never be able to use to pay it off,” he says, rolling his eyes. Lex attended on substantial scholarships, but he has to admit that it was more expensive than staying at home would have been. He thinks MU even offered him a free ride. “So what brought you back to Metropolis then?”

“My sister. She’s five years younger than me. I started college a little early, but after I finished my master’s degree, I was pretty much just working some deadend job at a tech startup in Manhattan debating if I wanted to go for the full PhD or not. When she told me that she was starting school down here, I knew that our parents weren’t going to do anything to support her, so I moved back and took the job at AmazoTech.”

Jimmy stares at him for a second, and Lex would be anxious if not for the little smile just barely visible on his lips. He can feel his heart beating in his chest, and he’s sure his cheeks are pink again. “Y’know, you’re a really nice guy, Lex,” Jimmy says, and Lex wants to argue, but there’s another loud burst of laughter from the college students in the booth that cuts him off. He levels them with a glare, and Jimmy rests a hand on his shoulder. “It’s pretty loud in here. Why don’t we step outside?”

The outdoor portion of the bar is simple. Much like the outdoor dining in a restaurant, there’s a cement floor and a few tables with umbrellas. There’s one long table in the middle, which houses another large group of college students, but they’re passing around a cigarette (at least, Lex hopes it’s a cigarette) and speaking in more hushed tones. In the back, there’s the pool table, with a ratty couch seated a few feet away from it under an awning. Next to that couch is a window which leads back into the bar, presumably to order drinks without going back inside.

Jimmy drags him all the way to the back, plopping down on the couch next to the pool table. Back here, it’s almost quiet, the chatter at the other tables not carrying too far. “Is this better?” Jimmy asks, and Lex nods. Then, hardly a beat later, “Do you know how to play pool?”

Lex, in fact, does not know how to play pool. Based on how the game goes, Lex thinks that Jimmy probably guessed that. Jimmy breaks, the balls shooting around the table in a scattershot, two solids immediately getting pocketed. He manages to get a third before missing his fourth shot, the cue ball barely whiffing by a solid yellow ball. Then, for Lex’s turn, Jimmy presses himself up close behind him, grabs both of his hands, and carefully helps him aim the shot, murmuring some sort of advice about how to line it up in his ear that Lex does not hear at all over his heartbeat pounding against his eardrums. He’s sure his face must be bright red. The rest of the game goes rather similarly, with Jimmy pressed up close against Lex and holding him for each of his shots, until eventually Jimmy scratches (Lex learns what scratching is in that moment) and apparently the game is over.

“I think you should do a study with that big science brain of yours about whether or not beginner’s luck is a real thing,” Jimmy says, in remarkably high spirits for having lost.

“I don’t know how--” He starts, but Jimmy holds up a hand to cut him off and then leaves him there to go to the window and get them some more drinks. Lex takes the opportunity to lean against the table and take a deep breath. He’s not sure he’s ever had that much sustained contact with another person, and if he has, it definitely wasn’t positive.

There’s a tap on his shoulder, and he turns around to see a behemoth of a man with dark sunglasses and hair slicked back with so much hair gel it seems like the guy has probably never used hair gel in his life. He’s got the Superman body type, and it immediately sets Lex into mild fight or flight. “Excuse me, are you using this table?” The guy asks.

Behind him, Lex can barely see a tiny yet familiar woman, also wearing dark sunglasses. “Um, I think my friend was about to--”

“Are you guys serious?” Jimmy yells, loud enough that a few patrons at other tables turn to look at them. He stomps over, setting their drinks on the nearest table. “This is seriously not cool! Lois, I know this scheme was your idea, but Clark, you shouldn’t have let her drag you into it!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the woman (Lois?) says, at the same time that the man (Clark!) says, “I’m sorry, you’re right, we should just go now.”

All three of them stare at each other for a second, and Lex feels distinctly left out of the loop. “Um, hi,” he eventually says, and then all three of them turn to stare at him and he suddenly feels like that was definitely the wrong move.

Jimmy pinches the bridge of his nose with one hand and uses the other hand to gesture at the couple. “Lex, you’ve met Lois. This is Clark, my idiot best friend.” Clark waves meekly, and Lois grins entirely unabashedly, like she doesn’t understand what she’s done wrong. “They came here to spy on our date like children.”

“We weren’t spying!”

“Um, Lois, you called it a spy mission.”

Lois turns to (presumably) glare at her boyfriend, and then both of them reach up to take their sunglasses off. “It’s nice to more properly meet you,” Lois says, holding out a hand.

“Right,” Lex says skeptically, eyeing the both of them up and down as he shakes her hand like it might go off if he touches it wrong.

“They’ll be leaving now,” Jimmy says, shooting the both of them a look. Clark brings up a hand to rub at his neck and Lois glares right back at him.

“Oh come on! Clark says that you’ve never gone on a date with anyone in all the time that he’s known you!” Lex blinks, and Jimmy pulls both of his hands up to bury his face in them. “We were curious! Just one game of pool and then we’ll leave.”

Jimmy drags his hands down his face with a groan and then turns to look at Lex, like he’s silently pleading for him to send them away so he doesn’t have to. Lex can’t help but smile a little bit to himself. He’s never seen Jimmy really interact with his friends before, and he thinks that it could be interesting just to observe him in something at least resembling a more natural environment. Maybe he’d prefer that wasn’t their first date, but oh well. “One game couldn’t hurt anything.”

“See? One game couldn’t hurt anything!” Lois repeats, grinning at Lex, and he thinks he can feel the credit he’s earned with her. He can’t help smiling to himself a little.

“Fine,” Jimmy groans in obviously reluctant agreement. “But I’m breaking,” he insists, grabbing the stick he’d used in the last game and taking a long drink from one of the two bright pink drinks he had brought over for them. Lex takes a sip of his, watching Jimmy line up the shot and send the balls flying around the felt. They’re stripes this time, it would seem.

With his friends here, Jimmy doesn’t help Lex line up his shots like he had in their game, and he has to admit that he likes pool less this way. He bends as far over the table as he can, narrowing his eyes into tiny slits at the balls as he tries to calculate the best angle to hit them at. Admittedly, the physics of this game aren’t as straightforward as they seem.

He hits the ball too hard, and the one he tried to pocket goes tumbling around the whole table like a rocket before stopping against a wall.

Lois and Clark debate for a minute who’s going to take the first shot, and then Lex and Jimmy are treated to the comedic sight of Clark bending his hulking body over the table and Lois pressing her body against his the same way Jimmy had to help him line up the shot. Her hands don’t even reach his from behind, landing more at his elbows than his wrists, and even standing on her tiptoes she’s murmuring whatever advice she thinks is going to help him out into the base of his neck. He must be at least a foot taller than her, and Lex wonders for just a moment how that must work before realizing he absolutely does not want to know. But it does work, apparently, because Clark manages to pocket two balls with one shot.

When it’s Lois’ turn to shoot, Clark contrasts her so completely by standing at least three feet back, his arms crossed over his chest and his head tilted like he’s trying to actually watch her-- not just take her in, but observe what she’s doing. “Take a look at this, Smallville,” she exclaims enthusiastically as she takes the shot, only to not only not sink a ball, but to miss any contact with every ball in front of her. Lex coughs a laugh, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth. “I’m going to get a drink,” Lois announces with a pout.

One game turns into three, until Lois, Jimmy, and Lex have all had much more alcohol than they reasonably should and Clark has started forcing his friends to drink water and gently pleading with Lex to do the same (fortunately, he doesn’t have to fight too hard; Lex is still not really a drinker). It turns out that Lex and Lois are both awful at pool, and the games are mostly between Clark and Jimmy, with their respective partners just slowing them down. This doesn’t really stop Lois and Clark from winning all three games.

“Okay, I should really get these two home,” Clark tells Lex apologetically, with one arm around Lois’ waist and the other around Jimmy’s shoulders.

“Nooo, Clark, c’mon! One more game,” Lois pleads.

“We have brunch with your dad tomorrow,” Clark says, with a tone like the last thing he wants to do is actually go to brunch with Lois’ dad. Lex assumes there’s a history there that he doesn’t know about. Then, eyes widening a little, Clark slips his arm off of Jimmy’s shoulder and says, “Well! Lois, we should really go close your tab.”

Lex and Jimmy stand across from each other, alone in a sea of strangers. “I’m so sorry about them. I thought they might do something like this, but then it just seemed--” He cuts Jimmy off with a kiss, and their mouths slot together like puzzle pieces. Jimmy is warm and smells like campfire and alcohol, his lips wet and plump. He brings his hands up to cradle Jimmy’s cheeks, which practically burn under his palms. Jimmy’s hands come up to his waist, sliding under his letterman jacket from a high school he hated going to.

When they pull apart, Jimmy’s eyes are half-lidded and his mouth hangs open just a little bit. It’s adorable, and Lex wants to kiss him again. “I had a good time,” he says instead.

Jimmy clears his throat and pulls away the rest of the way, shoving his hands into the pockets of his puffy blue jacket. “Right,” he says. “Well, let’s make sure to do it again sometime soon then, huh?” Lex nods, and Jimmy rushes away to join his friends. Lex can see him starting an argument, but he can’t hear him over the other people still populating the terrace.

Lex stands there for a minute just trying to catch his breath, his heart pounding in his chest and his cheeks burning. That went… better than he ever could have imagined. He went out with Jimmy, they had a good time, they kissed, and it was amazing. And he even thinks his friends like him which is… well, it’s more than he could have ever asked for.

[egelantier]

rimworld, the addiction

i promised a post about rimworld somewhere an entirety away, and even if i did, by now i was playing it exclusively, a bit every day, for something like half a year, so i think it deserves some kind of an entry in my journal either way.

preface: usually when i describe games here, i put in some kind of a note how this or that game is very casual user friendly (because i am a casual user), and you can play it if you never played stuff, and so on. rimworld is not quite that game. it’s very much a gamer’s game, in a sense that its UI looks like an unholy cross of “hello, world!” programming and an excel spreadsheet, it’s incredibly counterintuitive, it takes from ten to twenty minutes to load on the average (and the loading screen looks like it crashed meantime), and it wants you to suffer. if you play any amount of time, you’re going to inevitably end up with hundred to two hundred mods, and to make the game move with all those mods you’ll have to follow the easily-accessible tutorials with advice like “install this handy Python program” and “Select "BC7 Texconv compressor" on the middle bottom.” and the complexity of the game’s inner system makes its own tutorial - well - it will tell you that you colony needs a freezer for food to outlive the winter, but you will have to intuit by yourself that to make this freezer you’ll have to build a double-walled room of just the right side, put in two air conditioner users set one degree celsius apart from each other to minimize the power load, don’t forget to build double-door airlocks to account for the temperature spikes when the door opens and adjust it by the variety in your biome’s climate. and don’t even get me started on killboxes! this is to say, you’re going to be watching youtube and reading guides. a lot.

(OKAY it’s not THAT bad and you mostly need to be able to know where the mod folder is and how to follow detailed instructions. but by the standards by today’s, increasingly mobile and under-the-hood gaming, it’s practically NASA. even minecraft is more user-friendly in comparison.)

and yet like i said: hordes of rabid fans, literally months of addictive playing, thousands of mods, active scene. why? and what the hell is it? let’s see.

rimworld as a setting is a procedurally generated world in a galaxy far, far away (that takes its setting inspiration from firefly, star wars, a bit of dune, and a general space opera vibe), with diverse climate biomes (from ice sheets to arid deserts, from temperate forests to tropical swamps), inhabited by a variety of friendly and unfriendly flora and fauna and a multitude of friendly and very unfriendly tribes, factions, empire remnants and such. they send each other (and you) raids and trade caravans, and overall just try to survive.

“you" is an unspecified entity (some speculate that you might be an orbital AI, but it doesn’t quite matter) in charge of a group of your “pawns,“ aka colonists - little blobby humanoid representations of either baseline or gene-modified humans that, in a variety of scenarios, find themselves on the unhospitable surface of rimworld either literally butt-naked or with a scant handful of resources, and have to survive and build their way up from a hovel and a campfire to the ultratech spacefaring colony. pawns have their own backstories, traits, needs and health condition; they form relationships, meet their relatives, get together, make up, break up, marry, divorce, make children, mourn their lost people, keep pets, suffer from mental breaks and so on. you can give them direct orders in some occasions, like the battle, but for most of the time you’re going to give them priorities based on their skillset, and watch them do their things on their own, which is alternately fun, touching and infuriating.

your colony’s experience in rimworld is governed by one of the (canonically) three “storytellers,” aka AIs, who’re in charge of sending you various events - enemy raids, wanderers joining in, solar eclipses, manhunting packs of rabid enemies, crop blights, weather anomalies and so on. each storyteller has several levels of intensity, from ‘peaceful’ (it’ll keep weather events and random angry animal attacks, but cut out everything related to hostile pawns, like raiders) to ‘death is inevitable,’ and also has their own style: phoebe just wants you to have a good time, cassandra provides a linear progression of difficulty and alternates ‘bad’ and ‘good’ challenges, and randy just doesn’t give a fuck and WILL get your colony attacked by mechanoids, manhunting yorkshire terriers and pig-human raiders on the same day your favorite melee fighter died and all the electricity cut out, just for the hell of it.

the intended (loosely) gameplay is to randomise your colonists, pick up a storyteller on a medium difficulty, set the game to ‘only save on exit, permadeath’ setting and let your colony tell its own history by surviving as much as it can, mourning its losses and celebrating its wins, and eventually succumbing to the entrophy (or, less likely, achieving one of the win conditions - building a spaceship and getting off the planet, decoding an ancienty mystery to join up with a techmegabrain, hitching a ride with the imperial ship after gladhanding the emperor and his escort in style for a set amount of days, etc.). but the beauty of rimworld is that between the granular difficulty settings and mods you’re able - and welcome - to finetune your experience to the exact specific level of challenge and/or chill you want. don’t care for the fighting at all and just want to build your colony and select the right shade of the carpets? put it on peaceful. don’t mind raiders but fuck those guys who airpod in the middle of your base or breach your walls? the turtle mod is your friend. raiders are fine, but you want to dig your way into the mountain without being afraid of giant insect infestations? turn those assholes off. want to min-max your experience and fight literal horders of enemies every ten minutes? either max out the difficulty or install one of the thousand of mods like combat extended or whatever, that add difficulties and mechanics.

and meanwhile the game - that looks deceptively simple on the outside, build this, harvest this - is stuffed with overcomplicated intersection of various systems creating weird outcomes. it’s a bit minecraft and a bit dwarf fortress and a bit sims and emergent gateways all the way. your little pawns follow the tenets of their ideoligions, get upset over seeing corpses or eating mushrooms, go into berserk rages after eating without a table one too many times, make friends, celebrate the defeat of their rivals and get attached to random squirrels. they can interact with other inhabitants of rimworlds by trading and diplomacy, or indulge in raiding, piracy, enslavement, ritualized murder, forced conversions, cannibalism or non-consensual organ and gene harvesting. a starved pawn on a frozen ice will eat somebody’s body and feel bad about it… unless they come from a society of cannibals, in which case it would be fine and dandy, but they might be upset about eating their human meat in an untidy room, you know? some precepts require the colonists to worship blindness; some of them make people hate the sight of the sun, and some require worshipping every tree and never kill an animal. it’s all, to put it simply, complicated.

and then, of course, mods. the game is created to be as mod-friendly as possible, and so there are literal thousands of them, and they reflect the multifaceted insanity of the world in the most hilarious ways. the most-downloaded mod overall is called wall lights and allows you, well, to put lamps on the wall. the other popular one is called “war crimes,” and you can probably infer its purpose from the title. there are mods that prettify, fully change or customise the chunky UI; mods that clean up or straight up rewrite the graphics; mods that make your little blobby guys look anime and sexy (it’s hilarious); mods that turn rimworld into warhammer 40k, or star wars, or mass effect, or lord of the rim, or a lovecraftian nightmare, or some combination thereof. my favorite of the moment is the collection centered around medieval overhaul, a clever and beautiful bundle that turns the gritty space opera into the fully realized medieval town builder - with smithies and bakeries and castle walls and knight plumages. it takes some time to cobble together a collection that works (and then make sure it all hangs together, and learn to use rimsql, and figure out what the hell defs are and why your log is giving you errors, and change the order of mods a thousand times, and make sure you did not accidentally turn your squirrels into unstoppable death machines while trying to add some prettier capes to your tailor bill), but on practice it means that pretty much every person playing will have their own unique copy of the game, vastly different from what somebody next to them is playing.

like i said above, the intended gameplay is the triumph and misery of playing through as is; but i’m having one of the shittiest years of my entire life, and so almost every day i would load it up and watch the progress of my little medieval towns from one lost person in the wood trying to figure out how to spin flax into thread into little blooming towns, with nothing to distract me. there’s something of bird-watching or flower-pressing to this experience: you set up the conditions and you set up your priorities (or install ‘free will’ and then tear your hair out over your pawns avoiding research and cleaning their floor while winter is looming ahead and they need to figure out how to make parkas) and then you watch how it all unfolds, and you can sprinkle in a bit of a challenge, or you can just watch them grow and mix up and change and misbehave and be silly and transform, and transform, and transform. it more or less saved my sanity. it’s a very specific kind of experience - i built a monastery with a winery and an apothecary’s dark corner in one map, and a small mountain hideaway for a runaway princess in another, and a rough-and-tumble tundra city in third, and so on - and i saw people building unstoppable war machines instead, or trying to survive specific unfair scenarios, or roleplaying, or multiplayering, or minmaxing with spreadsheets and calculators, or all of the above - and god, is it good. is it so goddamn good.

so! whether you want to play it or have ran away screaming by this time, i hope you enjoyed this silly writeup. and if you do want to start playing, don’t hesitate to ask me stuff! or like share my list of mods and so on.

[luckystarchild]

Do you know why Jojo part 6 released in three batches of 12-14 eps many months apart instead of weekly like the previous parts?

Disclaimer: I'm not working on that series and I don't work for or with Netflix in any capacity, so please know everything I say here is just educated guesswork based on my experience in the anime industry at large, plus some logical observation thrown in.

But tbh? I'm guessing it's due to Netflix's dogged adherence to binge-model streaming.

In recent history, Netflix began licensing anime from Japanese licensors in a bid to enter the very lucrative anime space (valued in the tens of billions as of 2021). They kept their licensed titles in "Netflix Jail" until they could release the entire series in a binge-ready batch, foregoing weekly releases entirely. The "binge model" of streaming has worked well for them in the past, and they saw no reason to break from this tradition when they first started licensing simulcast anime in-season.

Carole & Tuesday, Beastars, and others received this treatment. The shows aired in their entirely in Japan, and months later, Netflix finally released them (with multiple foreign language dub options) in a big batch. Alas, anime fans accustomed to same-day simulcasts weren't happy they couldn't watch these series weekly during their seasonal debut (hence the term "Netflix Jail" entering anime community parlance). Because Netflix wanted to do batch-releases, fans missed out on the initial hype concurrent to the series' Japanese TV debut as a result.

I imagine most fans who wanted to watch a series would just pirate it rather than wait for Netflix to release it from Netflix Jail and drop the whole thing at once months after it aired (I know I did with Carole & Tuesday). Because there was no legal way to watch the series, these series weren't as widely reviewed for American audiences during the peak of the hype surrounding them. The lack of media hype + rampant piracy likely ate into Netflix's bottom line once the series were released on the platform. People had already watched the shows by the time Netflix released them from Netflix Jail, making them old news.

Since Netflix is a business, they were likely interested in figuring out how to better monetize their content and prevent preemptive piracy. That leads us to current-day-Netflix's behavior surrounding anime simulcasts.

The series I talked about above were largely licensed by Netflix. Licensing a show means buying the rights to these shows after the shows are funded (AKA produced) by Japanese producers, licensors and studios. Netflix owns the rights to stream these series, but they don't own the shows themselves. They couldn't prevent them from being aired in Japan since they didn't actually own the shows.

More recently, Netflix has been installing themselves as a producer on shows, rather than just a licensor of them. That is, rather than buying the streaming rights to a series, they've been putting down money up-front and funding the production of the anime they've been buying. They are co-producing, which gives them more control and power over the series as a whole. In short, they own all or most of the series.

Two recent series come to mind: Ooku the Inner Chambers and JoJo Part 6. Both of these series debuted on Netflix (Ooku is an exclusive Netflix production and ONA). In the case of Jojo Part 6, it was shown on Japanese TV after it debuted exclusively on Netflix.

Because Netflix has a controlling stake in these shows, they can control how and when they are released. They're going to release the series in the way they think will make them the most money. Because batch-releases and the binge model have worked well for them, they organized the release of JoJo Part 6 around this strategy. They premiered it on Netflix in a binge-ready batch of episodes, rather than rolling it out weekly. Then, afterward, they gave it a weekly release on Japanese TV. By preventing the show from airing on TV before it arrived on Netflix, they basically prevented pirates from "leaking" the episodes before Netflix could get a bite at them. This move made Netflix the first and simplest place to consume these series.

Basically Netflix wants to stick to their binge-model when possible. With anime simulcast licensing, you just can't do that without missing out on simulcast seasonal hype and inviting piracy of shows before you can air them. Anime simulcasts are basically incompatible with the binge model...

... unless you're rich enough to change the game, and turn "Netflix Jail" into just... Netflix.

If you own the show, you can control how it's released. Netflix removed JoJo Part 6 from the simulcast game completely and structured its release on what they thought would make them the most money. They think (and probably have numbers that suggest) people subscribe in order to binge new shows. By breaking Part 6 up into batches, they have three "binge cycles" that'll earn them customers each time.

Long story short: Netflix controls their content based on what they think will make them the most money, and for them, that's the binge model.

Obviously they're doing SOME weekly rollouts (mostly with their reality series), but Netflix still appears to be prioritizing bingeable content, and they haven't shifted over to weekly simulcasts for anime.

In the future, I expect they'll back away from simulcast licensing and do far more co-producing when it comes to anime. We'll likely see most "Netflix anime" being released as platform-exclusive (or ONA) content with a delayed TV release in Japan. Licensing simulcasts that get stuck in "Netflix Jail" earns them ill-will from fans who prefer same-day simulcasts. Owning the series by co-producing, rather than just stream-licensing, makes more sense for them and their binge-model business practice since they can escape the simulcast and piracy trap baked into the simulcast model. They can do whatever they like with the series they own... even if it flies in the face of anime fans who prefer simulcasts to the binge model.

Capitalism ruins the party again, I suppose. Hope this helped!

(Disclaimer: I understand there were long delays between the parts of Part 6, and that could be Netflix trying to drag things out, but it's also likely there were production issues. I can't say for sure, but the anime world is still suffering a lost of delays because of COVID, so... throw that in there and you have a recipe for long-delayed batch releases. But I can't speak to the specifics of this project.)

[loveshotzz]

All I Really Want Is You

older!neighbor!widower! steve x fem!reader epilogue - a slow burn series of blurbs

Heaven Knows You Better ~ epilogue

summary: A glimpse into the future.

wc: 1.7k

warnings: none, just pure fluff 🧡 a slight mention of drinking a margarita.

authors note: I know you’re tired of hearing me say it, but thank you 🧡 writing this story and sharing it with you will always hold a special place in my heart.

🌆 <- chapter ten

The Masterlist / The Playlist / The Tune:

Three summers later - Beginning of May

The sun hangs bright in the deep blue sky, the air a little crisp from the last bit of the chill still leftover from spring. The heat of summer is just barely on the cusp of breaking through, you can feel it in the way the city starts to come alive again. The red ‘TEAM ALS’ banner blows in the wind as your shoes and Bandit’s paws cross the white finish line. The clapping of strangers on the side lines fills your ears, tugging a smile onto your slightly chapped lips, before you turn around to look at your fiancé. 

Steve can’t help his grin back, the whites of his teeth showing when your smile stretches wider at the sight of him. The bottoms of his black running shorts flap in the breeze, revealing more skin at the tops of his thighs that still lights a match deep inside your gut. You don’t think you’ll ever be immune to him. The white socks on his feet are pulled up to his shins, the color of his On Clouds matching the banner above you. The polyester of his dark gray Nike running sweater fits tight across his chest, the zipper on its high neck being tugged by a set of golden blond puppy paws.

“I told you Molly wasn’t gonna make it all the way,” he huffs, a laugh threatening to bubble past his lips when the rambunctious labrador starts licking his stubble covered cheek, pushing up the bill of his black Nike baseball cap. 

God, you’ll never not want to kiss him.

“She made it more than half way, give her some credit Steve.” You roll your eyes and he’s proud to say that’s the third one he’s earned today. The first being in your barely unpacked kitchen when he snuck up from behind to blow a raspberry on your neck while making coffee in the morning.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You weren’t the one who had to carry the extra ten pounds the last two miles, were you?” He reminds you with a smirk, setting the wiggling puppy down now that she’s regained most of her strength back.

Bandit whines for Steve’s affections, pawing at him when he’s eye level, getting the scratch behind both ears he wanted. The German shepherd wasn’t the only one wanting his attention, and it takes everything inside you not to pout yourself when he stands back up and doesn’t immediately kiss you. Despite the chill, there’s still a sheen of sweat that coats his permanently sun kissed skin, the spice of his cologne becoming more pronounced because of it.

“Thank you for doing this with me baby,” the teasing edge to Steve’s voice is gone, replaced with something softer - made even sweeter as he pulls you closer by waist, his nose bumping with yours when you stand on your tippy toes hooking your free arm around his neck. Your fingers twitch to be in his hair, you hate his hats.

“I’ll do them all with you,” you whisper because it’s just for him, it’s always just for him. His cheeks dust pink like he knows it and his hold on you tightens.

“I can’t wait to marry you,” the words come out soft against your lips, his eyes meeting yours from down the bridge of his nose.

“Three months.” 

The reminder makes him close the space that’s left, smiling into the kiss. It still feels like a hundred butterfly’s wings flutter against your rib cage when your lips slot together like they were never meant to be apart. It’s hard to get lost in him the way you want to with hundreds of people around and two dogs that can’t seem to stop their play fighting, tugging harshly on their leashes at your feet. That doesn’t keep Steve from tracing your bottom lip with his tongue when the tips of your fingers find the flyaway hairs sticking out of the bottom of his cap. You giggle against his lips and he can’t find it in himself to be disappointed when you pull away, like he knows you both should because of it.

“Careful, might have to take you downtown right now if you don’t stop,” he teases, biting his bottom lip to stop from kissing you again.

“I don’t think Eddie would ever forgive you for taking away his opportunity to finally be your best man.” Running your hands down his chest, you can feel his groan vibrate under your palms.

“Don’t remind me.” Steve lets you go, finally taking his hat off to reveal a dirty golden mess on top of his head, long fingers running through it.

Bandit whines, nudging Steve’s knee with his snout before rubbing the side of his face against his leg, ignoring the way the puppy jumps and paws at his side.

“I think someone wants to switch.” You grin at the way Steve’s face softens for his favorite boy, offering you Molly’s leash in exchange without a word.

“Someone missed daddy, huh?” Steve asks in the kind of baby voice you know he picked up from you, but the reference to himself still has you clenching like your second date. 

Bandit barks in response, tail wagging a mile a minute as you untangle the unruly puppy from around him. You give up quickly on letting her walk, picking her up just like Steve had, the wiggling weight of her in your arms has you biting your tongue about how heavy she really is.

“I think we’ve earned a margarita when we get home, right molly?” Hinting at Steve with a smirk tugging at your lips when you kiss the puppies restless snout - it's his turn to roll his eyes.

“Honey, we still need to pack. We leave for New York tomorrow at like nine A.M.” He runs another hand through his hair before putting his hat back on his head and you have to resist pulling it off as you both make your way through the crowd.

“Okay, we can pack and then a margarita… although packing might be a lot more fun after one. Just a thought.” You shrug with fake nonchalance, finally getting a grip on Molly in your arms.

“After we pack and drop off the dogs at Nancy’s.” Steve chuckles, moving to the other side of you so his free hand can find the small of your back, the blunt ends of his nails scratching against the soft fabric of your oversized sweater. He could never go too long, he always had to be touching you.

“Deal.” Grinning, pleased with your promised drink, you push up on your toes to plant a sloppy kiss on his cheek, heart swelling at the pink that dusts tips of his ears because of it. 

9:15pm 🌃

The first sounds of cicadas buzz low in your ears, another reminder that summer was just around the corner while the two of you sit on the porch swing. Steve had set up on the small deck in your backyard. It wasn’t big like the ones in the suburbs but it was just enough for Bandit and Molly to stretch their legs without a leash. The citronella candle that you swore to Steve would work, burns lemon and lavender into the matching dusk sky, still too early in the season to prove yourself right. The stars are still half hidden by the big tree in the corner of your yard that has started to sag from the humidity. Though a lingering chill still nips in the breeze and it has Steve pulling you deeper into his side. The pine of his body wash from the shower you took together just before this mixes in the perfect blend to make your eyes heavy and your heart full. 

“You think Nancy’s going to be okay with both of them for five days?” Your question comes out quiet in the calm, your cheek pressed to the cotton of his white shirt. The hard muscles underneath twitching from the warmth of your breath. The ice in your half drank margarita clinks against the glass when your wrist starts to get lazy.

“I think we’re going to have a very well behaved puppy when we get back,” Steve chuckles before relieving you of your hold, setting your cup down next to his on the deck.

You giggle to yourself at the thought, humming in agreement, when he takes the opportunity to really cuddle you now. A big arm wrapping around you while his hand finds yours so he can do his favorite thing. His chin hits the top of your head, and the tips of his fingers tickle while he twirls the diamond ring around your knuckle. You can feel the way his cheeks pull up against your hair, his lips a ghost against the crown of your head, always losing himself in the fact that you said ‘yes.’

“Did you pack the Cubs shirts I got for Gwenny?” Steve asks like he’s trying to think back to the mess of a packing session the two of you had in between stolen kisses and heated touches that always led to more. 

“That was the first thing you packed, handsome.” You squeeze his hand, the smirk on your face widening at how obsessed of an uncle he was for the newest addition to the Munson family. 

“Oh yeah, I remember now. They are under my dress slacks,” he mumbles, while the pad of his thumb rubs small circles under your ribs where his fingers curl around your side.

Cuddling deeper into his chest a comfortable silence falls between you, the cicadas buzz louder, mixing with the sounds of the city and you wish you could always stay like this, wrapped up in him and the glow of the moon that leaks through the shaking leaves on the tree above you. The silver band he twirls around on your finger makes you realize this is what he’s asking for. A forever of moments just like this one tonight, of first, of lasts, of fingers intertwined, soft touches, stolen kisses and whispered sweet words in the moonlight that feel even sweeter when he says them again in the sunshine. 

This is what forever looked like with Steve Harrington, and you always want to be his tough girl.

beta’d by @superblysubpar

dividers by @chechelia

[twoblueheartslocked]

SEBLAINE- PRESENT DAY (Mid October/Year 1)-No Stopping Your Plans (And Those Slow Hands)

Para: No Stopping Your Plans (And Those Slow Hands)

Pairing: Seblaine.

Rating: NC-17

Sebastian: @colorsicantsee 

Blaine: @twoblueheartslocked

Time: Year One: Present Day. Second week of October- Six weeks  after It’s Supposed to Be Fun Turning Twenty-One. 

Location:  Sebastian’s Apartment- Manhattan, New York

Info: Blaine helps Sebastian with some studying. Things don’t go as planned- or do they?

Warnings; please read: This para is sex/smut with plot. (Bottom Blaine for this one.) -Mentions themes of alcohol addiction, recovery discussion, depression/anxiety, past (physical, mental, and sexual) and mentions of past unwanted sexual advances while under the influence of alcohol. -This RP in general has themes of past abuse (physical, mental and sexual), previous unwanted sexual situations, anxiety, depression, negative body image, drug use, alcohol use, cussing, and death(parents).

Extra Warnings: (This RP is not Kurt Hummel friendly. He is not a nice man at all. Never will be in this RP. You’ve all been warned.)

Title Taken From:  Slow Hands- Niall Horan

Under Cut for content.  

As usual, the para is mostly unedited.

 (Fingertips putting on a show-

Can't you tell that I want you, baby)

 Blaine’s POV:

The windows in Sebastian’s  apartment were open and an early Autumn breeze was pressing tickling kisses all over their skin, leaving little trains of goosebumps in their wake. Blaine had brought over candles in an array of Autumnal fragrances which included pumpkin, fresh apples and morning air. Blaine didn’t know how they managed to mix a crisp fall morning into the wax, but the apartment smelled like one of his favorite seasons, and for the first time in over four years he was allowed to enjoy it without Kurt’s special brand of soft spoken ridicule.

 He’d stolen one of Sebastian’s Columbia hoodies  and while the light blue suited Sebastian much better, Blaine was more than happy to wear it, feeling all the more closer to his boyfriend for having done so. He was so goddamn comfortable and it freaked him out how much his guard was down with Sebastian even after all they’d been through the last ten months. But, he clung to it and held it closer to his chest than he’d ever held anything before. Soot’s pitch fur ruffled, of course she came to stay the weekend with him,  as a particularly powerful gust of refreshing air gusted through the room. She stretched before settling back down to loaf behind them on the sofa.

While the apartment was still a bit too big and bare for Blaine, the room had a new permanent coolness since Seb let him open the windows and Blaine loved everything about the way the day felt, but Sebastian shivered against him which was just as well as it gave Blaine an excuse to snuggle even closer, as if possible, to his boyfriend. The both of them trusting each other with touch in an almost natural  way that neither one of them had experienced in a long time. It was almost easy to forget how much had happened with Sebastian in the last month. Almost.

Sebastian, the man that never needed or wanted any help, had since talked to a therapist about his mental health. He’d gone to talk about the bad places he’d been- the dark halls and rooms, the men, the consensual ones and those that were more blurred lines. He’d gone to talk about alcohol and drugs and self destruction. He was learning to let out the things he kept bottled up to even Blaine. Plus, he had been to three meetings- A Beginner's Meeting where he was able to get acquainted with how it all worked, and two Closed Meetings where Blaine had to let him go in alone  and trust him enough to get through it all by himself. Of course,  Blaine had held his hand before and after each one, and whispered how proud he was of him before sending him off. He wished so hard he could hold his hand through the duration of them but he understood why he was made to sit in the hall. His hands clasped on his lap, nervously picking at the callous’ on his thumb. 

Sebastian only spoke about his progress he’d made with his therapist and group leader with Blaine, his mother, Sabine and his best friend, Hunter. And when he spoke he was selective about what he shared, which  Blaine understood. It was his journey, Blaine was just support. Seb had still not reached out to Thomas, his father- and it didn’t appear that he would break that thick panel of ice anytime soon. He still turned stony and distant if Blaine brought it up, almost like he thought that Blaine was taking Thomas’ side. Blaine was not at all- he knew Thomas had been wrong to call and reprimand Seb when he’d been doing so well at the time and he knew it was partly Thomas’ fault that Sebastian fell so hard and hurt himself after. Of course he also knew Sebastian was his own worst enemy and that he needed help to get his life back into his control. He needed an outlet, something to help with his depression, his anxiety and his urge to drink himself into oblivion when pushed down.

Blaine’s  boyfriend took his new quest to recovery so quietly, almost silently and so goddamn softly- as if he was afraid of it. He took it with gentle, almost tentative looks that seemed to ask Blaine, ‘Am I doing okay, B? Please, tell me I am.’  And Blaine, for his part, did his best to show Sebastian that he was doing so fucking well. And Blaine meant it, he knew how hard it was to work on yourself and overcome things that felt out of your control. He knew how much of a struggle it was to heal bone deep anguish. He knew he couldn’t pour from an empty cup, but Blaine gave everything  he had for both of them to feel better. Still Blaine wanted more than anything to know what was going on inside Sebastian’s head when things got too quiet. 

All of that had brought them today- a perfect day in an imperfect world. A day where Blaine was less than two weeks away from his twenty-second birthday and for once that didn’t bring him as much anxiety as it had the last four years. A day where he was comfortable and Sebastian was still and calm next to him as he worked on homework. New medicine had brought on a new awareness that enabled Sebastian to work harder and focus better on his studies than he ever could before.

Blaine watched as Sebastian tucked his bottom lip between his teeth and sucked gently on the plump flesh as he concentrated on his slim laptop, his green eyes darting over words that Blaine didn’t have a chance of really understanding no matter how much he pretended he was helping the other man study. Times like this Blaine couldn’t take his eyes away from Sebastian- when he was still and deep in thought and god, he was fucking beautiful in his concentration. All at once Blaine needed to kiss him, needed to feel that bottom lip against his own teeth, felt like he might go a bit crazy if he didn’t. 

He didn’t want to jar Seb out of his mindfulness, he understood all too well how upsetting it could be to be touched when you didn’t want it or weren't expecting it, so he took a note from Seb’s book and wiggled his fingers gently in front of Seb’s face to get him looking at him. As soon as green met gold in question he took initiative and let his waving fingers slide gently against Sebastian’s smooth jaw and drew the two of them close, hesitating for a moment to silently  ask for permission. When Seb’s lips parted, intrigued and with a quiet rush of breath, Blaine knew it was a go ahead. He all but melted against Sebastian as he pressed his lips against his boyfriend’s. He sighed, the feeling of Seb’s mouth open and willing just for him exactly what he needed and he deepened the kiss, his tongue seeking and sliding against Sebastian’s and he could feel the fire between them slide down his body to pool in intimate places before resting in his toes, making them curl against the cool hardwood floor. 

Kissing Sebastian was one of his very favorite things and he’d never tire of the slip, slide and tangle their mouths. He wasn’t sure how long he lapped at Sebastian's lips and teeth, but by the time he forced himself to pull away he was breathless and everything felt tighter. It was a struggle to act nonchalant like he didn’t just interrupt Sebastian’s studies with something so intimate,  and even harder to speak. He barely managed.

“Mm, sorry.”

He  knew what he’d done, but of course he wasn’t going to let on that he knew even though Sebastian could fucking read him like his favorite book. He fought a smile, and shifted a bit in his seat to relieve some of the new tightness in his body.

“No more interruptions, I promise. I know you need this stuff  for economics.”

Sebastian’s POV:

The air was cold in the apartment which kept Sebastian alert. Blaine had asked to open the windows to let in the autumn breeze and he obliged. He wasn’t a fan of the weather turning, but Blaine was enamored with the orange and brown leaves on the ground and the heat of pumpkin lattes in his hands and he couldn’t help but soften towards the season. Blaine had made the trek to his apartment with candles and his little black cat and Sebastian thought of teenage witches and whimsey. He was sure the thought would make Blaine smile, maybe he would tell him later. 

Seb had told Blain that he needed to study and his boyfriend understood and sat snuggled into his side in one of his old hoodies. He liked how Columbia blue looked on the other man’s olive skin. Sebastian wanted him to keep it, to wear it when he felt lonely or scared, and to hold him close like a lover’s locket. 

The past weeks had been exhausting. Seb thought that going to therapy and getting better would be an easier experience than it was but it was messy and tiring. He practiced his restraint in silence, spilled his guts to a lady in an office, and cried over paper cups of coffee in a circle of folding chairs. Of course he had a select few he could talk to, and he did sometimes. Sebastian had to remind himself he wasn’t a burden and old habits liked to hang on like the last dead leaf on a branch, and he didn’t want to pile his shit on anybody. Sebastian often felt like maybe he wasn’t doing the whole healing thing right but B was there with his gentle presence and he didn’t have to speak it, he knew he had him. 

Their day tucked into the couch was a welcome respite for both of them. Seb’s laptop was cradled on his lap as he read over his notes. Blaine’s body heat felt nice against him and made it a little distracting. The subject matter he was studying was terribly boring and the other man didn’t realize how enticing he could be, even when he wasn’t doing anything. Seb could smell the spicy aroma of his cologne and saw his hips when he raised his arms to stretch, the hoodie sliding up just enough. So when Blaine gently got his attention and slowly kissed him, it was a very welcome distraction. 

When B leaned away from the kiss Sebastian’s lips followed like a magnet, “I think I need an interruption.” Blaine was right, sure. He needed to study. But, it was still early in the day, surely he could find time later.

“It’s important to take study breaks,” he smiled a slow mischievous smile and went in for another kiss. Sebastian’s hands found their  way to gently sit on either side of his boyfriend’s neck, a place only he had the blessing to touch. He could feel Blaine’s pulse quicken underneath his fingertips as they slowly kissed and pressed into each other closer. Sebastian’s lips trailed as far as he could reach until the hoodie stopped him. His hands tugged on the soft fabric, “You could keep it on," He murmured against his boyfriend’s jawline, he loved the way his budding five o clock shadow felt on his lips.

 Blaine’s POV:

It still amazed Blaine that anytime he wanted attention or intimacy all he had to do was ask for it, whether verbally or with kisses. Sebastian just gave it to him- even when he was tired or strained or working. His boyfriend would  kiss him back and it’d lead to something more or he’d snuggle up to Blaine and nuzzle into his neck when they were too sleepy or stressed to do much more. He couldn’t get over how different everything was for him now. 

He had spent so long made to believe that his overwhelming need for physical contact and want for affection was distasteful, shamefully attention seeking, and annoying. It was simply tolerated, then mocked, and finally flat out rejected. Even in high school when things had actually been good with Kurt and him for a moment, Kurt always seemed slightly irked if Blaine lingered too long or touched too boldly and Blaine couldn’t imagine ever interrupting Kurt’s work when they lived together, he’d have been reprimanded or worse. But now? Now he could interrupt Sebastian all he wanted and it was welcomed like it was a gift instead of a burden. 

He still had moments where he’d get nervous and his touches would be too tentative at first, but Sebastian always soothed those nerves instantly and Blaine couldn’t get enough of it. How had he gone so long living the way he lived with his abuser? It ate him up to think about and yet didn’t matter anymore. Now Sebastian was looking at him like he wanted to drink him up and his beautiful hands were ever so gently touching his neck. A spot just a year ago that would have sent Blaine into a tailspin of panic if anyone dared touched. His heart fluttered and his breath hitched and he needed more. Wanted to feel those hands all over him, god he’d do anything to keep Sebastian looking at him like that.

“Yeah, breaks are so important…” His  voice was soft as he trailed off as Sebastian’s lips turned into that smile that promised trouble, the one that made Blaine double take and blush on the day they met and made his heart beat faster than he thought possible. And then he was being kissed again and Sebastian’s lips and tongue were sliding against the pulse point in his neck, just above his sweatshirt and Blaine felt like he might just float away. He was so lost in the feeling that he almost missed the other man's words, thank god he didn’t.

Keep it on? Oh god… 

A shiver of absolute want ran through his body over the images of Sebastian on him, hands tangled in  his shirt, moving him where he wanted while he fucked over ane over into Blaine- the friction would rub and sting so nicely as the hoodie hitched up around his ribcage and under his back… Images of Blaine pressing Sebastian down and fucking into him slow and deep as Seb’s fingers clung to his shirt so he wouldn’t fall back, his legs spread wide for Blaine as he thrust into him slow and deep. Fuck.  

He wanted to feel the burn of the cloth against his skin, wanted it to leave its mark and  god… How far he had come to actually want something like that. The thought of either scenario made him so achingly hard that the neediest, softest moan escaped his lips and all at once he was god damn desperate to feel Seb’s body on or under him.

Gently Blaine took the laptop from his boyfriend's lap and he closed it before setting it down on the end table.  He could see now that Sebastian was just as hard through his sweats. Blaine reached out and let his fingers slip into the band of Seb’s pants, relishing for a second that his boyfriend rarely wore underwear, he let his fingers encircle Sebastian’s cock, sighed at its heaviness against his fingers. He rested his head against the other man's shoulder and stroked him almost lazily for a moment, enjoying the fact that he had done this, he’d made Sebastian this hard. He enjoyed the little noises Sebastian was making for him, and again it amazed him just how responsive and accepting Sebastian was of his affections.

He lifted his head and withdrew his hand, his fingers instantly missing the way Seb’s cock felt and fit, but it was okay for now as he’d feel it again soon. He lifted himself from the couch, sliding one leg over Seb’s lap until he was up and straddling the other man's hips, Seb’s cock so hard against his. He looked down at Sebastian, his eyes sliding over the part of his lips, his boyfriend’s teeth just slightly showing, his tongue just barely visible like he wanted to ask for something, but Blaine’s lips had already found their way back to Sebastian’s and he licked into his mouth again, the slide and slips of lips and tongues just a bit more dirty this time.  He rolled his hips into the other man, gasping a little, the thin fabrics allowing him to feel Seb against him almost completely. He  tangled his fingers into Sebastian’s hair and pulled so that he could tilt his head back and cradle his face in his arms- making the other man look up at him. Blaine’s voice was stilted, and his own question excited him in a way he couldn’t understand yet.

“You’d like that, huh?” 

His hips humped slowly into Sebastian, whishing that they were the type to hide condoms in living room end table drawers so that they could fuck right here with the Autumn breeze and candles around them. They weren’t yet but maybe one day they would be. Then  Blaine was surprised by himself again- Surprised by this man, the one that asked for sex and wanted to do filthy things with his person. He was so new to Blaine. And yet, he kind of remembered him from long ago. His breath was hot against Seb’s lips as he panted out between hip rolls what he wanted. 

“Come show me then…”

 Sebastian’s POV:

Sebastian bit his lip and let go of a deep breath he didn’t know he had been holding as Blaine’s hand slipped under the band of his sweats. Time felt like it stopped anytime the other man’s adept hands touched his skin. Blaine had lyrical hands, you could feel years of musicality etched into them and they played Sebastian like his most loved instrument. The other man touched him with promises of what was to come and Seb felt like he didn’t have the will to wait much longer. He needed Blaine in his bed, needed to be skin to skin, needed Blaine’s low voice in his ear. 

And then his boyfriend was in his lap and they were kissing and rutting against each other like they used to in his parents basement in their stolen moments. Sebastian loved when Blaine felt confident and comfortable and uninhibited like this. He could feel the other man’s breath against his lips, could feel how hard he was, his hands gripped his hips. Sebastian just nodded when the other man spoke, it wasn’t the time for words. It was time for him to worship Blaine in the best way that he could. 

He wasn’t sure who stood up first or who started undressing who, how the lube and condoms ended up in his hands but it didn’t matter. Sebastian had Blaine pressed into the bed, still in his hoodie, his naked legs splayed on either side of his hips. He liked how the fabric felt against his naked chest, loved the thought of being all over his boyfriend like this. 

Seb looked into Blaine’s eyes as he pressed into him. He moaned and held himself up on his elbow, his other hand gripped B’s jaw gently. 

“Keep your eyes on me.”

He pressed into Blaine over and over again and he could feel his thighs shake against his hips, he had to control himself, could have fallen over the edge from just that. He was beautiful, his curly hair mussed by the pillows, his mouth open with little moans, musical and perfect to Seb’s ears.

“You’re so fucking perfect.” 

 Blaine’s POV:

It was almost as if time didn’t exist in times like this. Times when they were just so in sync it was hard to tell where one of them ended and the other began. He wasn't even sure how he’d ended up almost naked and under Sebastian but he knew without a doubt that that is where he needed to be.

He just  lost himself. His voice was too needy, too loud. He could cry with it all. It was like he couldn’t breathe with how much desire was rolling through his body.  He did as he was told and kept his eyes on Seb, a thrill passed through him from Seb’s gentle demand and his strong slender fingers on his jaw and Blaine could do nothing but drink the sight of Sebastian covering him and thrusting into his body,  could do nothing but cling to him tightly as he could. 

His legs were quivering and spread and his knees were bent and god he was so fucking open for Sebastian. He couldn’t recall ever being this open before. He wanted to beg him to take what he wanted from him. Wanted him to fuck him until he couldn’t take it anymore. Everything was slick and smooth and the sounds filling the room were filthy and sweet and he would swear he could taste the music in the air. He felt like he might float away. His face scrunched like he was in pain, but overwhelming pleasure rolled through him in waves. The hoodie twisted, aching around his ribs and god he felt every inch so fucking much. 

It was still bright in the room and he was letting Sebastian fuck him on top of the covers and he was so exposed and for once he didn’t care. He wanted to go on like this forever. Wanted to hold on so it could last longer and yet…. He was overwhelmed with sensations and feelings and Seb's admission of Blaine being perfect, imagine that, tipped him over and he fell, fell fell. Seb's name a dirty, delicious moan on his lips, begging him to catch him- begging him to keep going. But he was left a whimpering, aching mess as he held tight to his boyfriend and hoped he just knew he could have it all still.  He usually much preferred to be in control, but sometimes he just needed it like this. Needed to be taken over. Needed that sore fullness. And it seemed Seb sometimes needed Blaine like this too. It was a big deal to him that he was able to succumb after all he’d been through and that Sebastian just knew.

As his eyes searched out Seb’s he wanted nothing more than to tell Sebastian that he was the perfect one, wanted to tell him he was everything, but he was still falling and all he managed once their eyes connected was a sigh and the softest expression,

“...love you.”

It didn't fit with what they were doing, or maybe it did- either way Blaine couldn’t imagine not telling Seb right then how he felt, it didn’t matter if he already knew a thousand times over. He needed him to know right now, at this perfect moment.

 Sebastian’s POV:

Sebastian loved this. He had never been so natural as he was when he was with Blaine. Even when they were kids, B had a way of getting him to let go of any inhibitions he had, and nothing had changed. They clicked, they always had. They had a magnetism that nobody else could ever match, the type of shit poets wrote about, what the best love songs tried to capture. Things just worked, they didn’t need to fulfill any specific rolls or worry about anything when it was just them. They moved together and fit perfectly. 

He knew he wasn’t going to outlast Blaine by much. Sebastian knew what Blaine wanted, they knew how to speak without any words. He held on tight to the other man as he fell apart in his arms, his breath hot and his skin satisfyingly sweaty. Sebastian could feel his boyfriend’s legs shake around him, could tell he was sensitive with every little moan after every thrust. 

“Love you too….”

Suddenly, his hips had a mind of their own as he let go. The two of them held each other and B ran circles over his back as his hips stuttered and he tried to catch his breath.  After a few moments of breathing and holding one another after he had removed himself gently from B, Sebastian chuckled and nuzzled into Blaine’s neck. He hummed a happy sound into his warm skin and he could smell the remnants of raspberry in his hair. God, this is what he lived for. It was enough to just bask in the other man’s glow, it felt like the sun hanging high in July or hearing his favorite song for the first time.

“That was nice.”  

 Blaine’s POV:

Blaine loved watching Sebastian fall apart. Loves feeling the shudder and the sigh and the way he just sort of let himself go and melts into him- like Seb just knows he’s got it like that, because he does,  and that Blaine will hold him through it, because he will. He holds him close and strokes the back of his neck as Sebastian comes down and joins him in the afterglow. He loves this part almost as much as what came before.

Blaine blushed deep and let out a laugh because nice is an understatement but his laugh quickly turns to this raw  emotion and a wave of happy tears threaten to overtake him and he has to hide his face against Seb’s chest to hide them from the other man and maybe himself. He had truly never been that open before and he knew he would have been embarrassed over all of his whimpers and writhing if not for the way Sebastian was looking down at him. Like he loved him more than anything. Like he was some precious thing. Blaine was the most exposed-mentally and physically, and yet he’d never felt safer than he did right now with Sebastian around him.

After so much fear with Kurt of ridicule and pain, and the fear of triggering himself if he let go- tonight felt like a long time coming. It felt like he’d been waiting to let go like this forever yet he hadn't known. He was the same man that some six months ago had called his boyfriend to ask him if he could talk to him through touching himself properly. The same man that clutched blankets over his naked body like a life support- the one that was terrified of feeling the shamed way he felt with Kurt.  He was proud of himself for just letting things happen the way they were meant to happen here. And perhaps he might still tense up or prefer to be less exposed and more protected by blankets, but tonight Sebastian’s warm body, and the chill of the Autumn wind from the open windows felt like the safest covers. 

As he lets himself lie there, wrapped up in his second safest space with his beautiful, damaged but recovering boyfriend he wonders if it could possibly get any better than this one moment. They’d hardly been back together a year yet and so much could happen so he knew he should relax, but look how much they’d been through together in ten months…  he treasured it all- the highs and the lows. He wanted to voice everything all at once to Sebastian, he wanted to tell him he was proud of the two of them, tell him how good he felt right now, maybe do something that might lead to Blaine getting to flip them over and lead to explore the gorgeous  inches of his boyfriend's body… Yet he still felt so overwhelmed and too many things were rushing through his mind as lie snuggled against Sebastian so he settles for a simple statement instead,

“So nice.” He lets himself snuggle closer still to Seb.

“So, I’ve decided I’m gonna keep this shirt, okay? Okay.”

 Sebastian’s POV:

Sebastian stretched his body and reveled in the afterglow with Blaine. The two of them kept kissing and smiling into each other’s mouths, their sighs and the sound of the breeze coming through the window were the only  noises in the cacophony of the city that mattered. He never thought he would find so much satisfaction in pillow talk or even be lucky enough to share in aftercare. The two of them always had each other. B always knew what Sebastian needed and he hoped he did the same for him. 

He wrapped his arms tighter around the other man’s clothed back and pressed a kiss to the side of his head. He laughed a little when Blaine replied. Did he really believe for one second that Sebastian would ever want the hoodie back? Of course he didn’t. He wanted him to keep of it and think of how his body felt on top of him, how the scent of his cologne would linger on the shirt like the touch of their hot skin. 

“Good. Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Sebastian described all the ways he wanted to see his boyfriend in the shirt and all the ways he wanted him to feel wearing it. He hoped that Blaine felt beautiful and wanted and sexy and all the good things that he deserved to feel. 

Their talking led to kissing which led to some more fooling around. Their time bled into a small nap wrapped around one another. They woke up during twilight, the street lights in the neighborhood were starting to pop on and paint the sidewalk in circles of orange. Sebastian ordered them Chinese food and they sat in bed and ate with a trashy reality show on in the background as they laughed and talked and Soot snuck pieces of chicken. If only all study sessions could end this way.

/tbc. 

[nehswritesstuffs]

Inherited Will, Destiny of the Age, Graveyard of Ambition and Dreams - Part 3

As [is going to become] usual, translations are at the bottom of the page.

Part 1 on [tumblr] - [FFN] - [AO3] 

Part 2 on [tumblr] - [FFN] - [AO3]

A Promise to Genzo; Chabo and Kappa weigh their options, while Rika learns where the food is kept. [bad future!One Piece AU]

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

The storm did not break until the dead of night, leaving Rika to fulfill her word the following morning. The crew slept on armchairs and a couch in the sitting area, while Chabo and Kappa remained in their tiny shared room in the back of the house.

“These people seem… unstable,” Kappa whispered. It was early in the morning, before the others woke, and the two of them were already up and awake. They were sitting side-by-side on the edge of his mattress, their shoulders just barely apart, both men hunched over with their elbows resting against their knees as they looked directly ahead. “Do we really want to risk the entire Resistance on these vagabonds?”

“You were a vagabond once, and we trusted you.”

“I was a kid who barely spoke any Eastern.”

“…and these people out there are all younger than us.” Chabo exhaled heavily and stared at his hands. “They might be outsiders and vagabonds, but… I just want to have a shot, Kakkun, and taking one is better than not at all.”

“Does that shot have to be them, though? We don’t know how many openings we’ve got.”

“…and we won’t know that number until we take it. Nezumi’s gang isn’t there—we won’t have a shot like this for a long time.” Silence passed over them, crickets chirping outside and the wan light from the setting moon being the only thing illuminating the room. He switched to another language, one more appropriate for a desert oasis than a shack in a forest. ⌠⌠I wish things were different.⌡⌡

A scoff. ⌠⌠Yeah.⌡⌡

⌠⌠I mean it.⌡⌡

⌠⌠So do I.⌡⌡ Kappa ran his fingers through his hair in frustration and made the switch back to Eastern. “Let’s say we go with whatever fucked-up plan they’ve got going. What do you think we’ll do if this isn’t what works?”

“Whatever happens next, I guess.”

“You’ve been saying that for ten fucking years.”

“…and I’ll say it for ten more.”

Kappa grumbled and stood, beginning to pace the room. He didn’t know what to do with his hands, gesticulating and fiddling with the pendant around his neck, completely unable to be still. “Genzo is at death’s door—I don’t want to be there waiting for him when he arrives!”

“I don’t think that will be the case,” Chabo said. “There’s something about Rika that just… it’s calming… like she’ll make certain everything’s going to be alright.”

“How the hell can you say that when you’ve watched the entire island chain devolve into shit?! We’re just barely scraping by and the only one in this house that can actually remember how it was before the Fish-Men is Genzo! I’ve given up on a lot, but I don’t want all these years of effort being one of those things.”

“Kakkun…”

“Don’t ‘Kakkun’ me, kalyv. You know what’s possible just as much as I do—one wrong move and there’s nothing left. All done. Vyran. The rest of the Resistance won’t even realize we’re gone until they’ve got Fish-Men on their front stoop and their homes have been set ablaze.”

“Then let’s make all the right moves.”

“Life doesn’t work that way; sometimes the only moves to make are the wrong ones.”

Chabo glanced up at Kappa, seeing how he was fidgety and rubbing the chill in the air off his upper arms. He was beyond nervous. “You can finally search for Terragram.” That made the other man stop in his tracks, staring at him slackjawed.

“You remembered.”

“You didn’t shut up about it for the first three months.” Chabo stood and took a couple steps towards the door before turning to look at Kappa, who was unconsciously fiddling with his pendant. “I’ll be bringing the pirates to Arlong Park today. Whether you’re with us or with Uncle is up to you.” He then left, softly closing the door behind him and moving through the house with not a sound.

Kappa swallowed hard and looked out the window—orange and purple were beginning to smear against the horizon, signaling the soon-held dawn. Birds chirped outside the window and the smell of sea spray reached his nose despite the window being closed. He had spent so long on this island—so long with others who knew nothing about him or his homeland—it was as though he wanted both freedom as well as to stay.

If only he could bring Conomi with him.

Letting out a heavy exhale, Kappa checked himself in the shard that served as a mirror before heading out into the main of the house. Chabo was not there, but a light was filtering out from underneath Genzo’s door. He instead went to the kitchen portion and began to boil water for tea. By the time he was pouring water into the teapot, Piiman had woken up and was sleepily following his orders, quietly toasting bread and fumbling for plates and cups. Kappa left him to continue and slipped into Genzo’s room, seeing that Chabo was helping the old man sit upright in bed.

“Did the kalyv tell you?” he asked.

“He did.” Genzo winced as he had the pillows behind him adjusted. “You boys are reckless.”

“We aren’t boys anymore,” Kappa scowled. “We have a way to potentially get rid of the Fish-Men.”

“It will put everything and everyone at risk.”

“…not if you stay back here and alert the rest of the Resistance if we don’t return.” Kappa looked at the man before him and exhaled heavily. “I think they’re stupid enough to where it actually might work.”

“How do you suppose that?”

“Like I said, Uncle: we just know,” Chabo replied. “We’ll bring in your tea and some food for the day, but if we don’t return from Arlong Park, then you know what to do.” He took a small box from the shelf and placed it on the old man’s bedside table.

“…are you really going to throw away the future I tried to give you both? The future that people have died striving to bring forth?!”

“We’re not living in anything worth saving, not unless we act,” Kappa said. “If you weren’t too weak to move, then I’d say you could come along, but you’re dead weight to us like that.”

“Kakkun…”

“It’s true.” He let their words settle in silence, the three men tense at the situation. “We’ll see you when we’ve returned.”

“…if you’ve returned,” Genzo corrected.

“No: when.” He then turned on his heel and left the room, discovering that the rest of their guests had woken up and were now attacking the toast and jam and tea breakfast that Piiman had finished putting together. Shooing away the hungry, grubby hands of Ninjin and Rika, he put together a tray and handed it off to Chabo to take into Genzo’s room. He then sat down at the table to eat what he could stomach.

“Naaa… Kappa… isn’t there anything else…?” Rika asked. “My energy levels can’t run on just toast, even tasty toast.”

“If we win, there’ll be plenty in Arlong Park that we can steal from the kitchens,” he said. “Meat and rice and vegetables and all the good things one can eat.”

“So Fish-Men eat the same things as Humans?” Piiman asked.

“Of course they can,” Chabo said, coming out of Genzo’s room. “They eat a lot of the same things, even if it’s just prepared differently. Haven’t you ever met one?” Piiman, Rika, and Ninjin shook their heads, while Tamanegi shrugged awkwardly—so not a meeting that involved food.

“So if we defeat them, we can take their food?” Rika wondered.

“I guess you can say that,” Kappa shrugged. Rika and Ninjin both seemed to vibrate in excitement—the promise of more food was something that they couldn’t pass up. “Defeat them and not only can I come along on your weird escapade, but there will be a fully-stocked kitchen for you to raid.”

“How do we get into this Arlong Park place?” Tamanegi asked. Chabo took an old and yellowed map from the wall and laid it out on the table.

“The cabin we’re in is currently here,” he said, pointing at one end of the island. He then dragged his finger towards the other far end. “This is where Arlong Park is; if we come up along the back trails here,” he traced another line and tapped the paper, “then we should be able to reach these gates unnoticed.”

“What about this place?” Piiman asked, pointing at a cluster of buildings labeled Cocoyasi.

“That’s the old town—we can’t do anything there. No one related to our cause has lived there in twenty years.”

“They keep it up to look like a Human town to trick travelers,” Kappa noted. “Due to Cocoyasi’s natural harbor, almost everything goes in and out of there.”

“…with the key word being almost,” Chabo said. He pointed to another section of the island, on the other side of Cocoyasi from Arlong Park. “There’s a gentle enough landing area here to be used as a viable alternative, so we don’t want to try from this direction. They have it on constant surveillance. The only way anyone can make landfall on other parts of the island end up being by complete accident, sheer luck, or incredible skills. Not even other members of the Resistance try it regularly. We only get extra supplies and visits from other Humans from the rocks you landed on, and even then, sometimes we just have to throw down a rope so we can haul up a crate.”

“So we sneak in, get rid of this Arlong creep, and bam! We can eat! Kappa can be our navigator! We’d be set!”

“It’s not that simple, Rika,” Tamanegi chided. “If it were, then the Resistance would have done it by now.”

“That’s right, we would have,” Kappa said. “The only reason this entire scheme is even on the table is because the Human goons who the Fish-Men have in reserve aren’t on Cocoyasi right now. They join the fray and we’re done for. Now: who’s your main combatant?”

The pirates all looked at him.

“You mean… you don’t have a main combatant…? Strongest fighter?”

“We’ve never actually been in a real fight together,” Piiman admitted. “Ninjin’s the best out of us three guys, but I don’t know about the Captain…”

“I can take those bottom-feeders,” Rika grinned. She hit her left palm with her right fist, cracking her knuckles in anticipation. “Just get me in there and I’ll take care of the rest.”

“How do you propose you do that…?” Tamanegi asked. Rika simply shrugged.

“Shishishi—I just do what I do best,” she claimed.

“I can’t believe it,” Kappa marveled, completely deadpan. “She’s completely fucking insane.”

“I thought she was our deldâremun,” Chabo teased. Kappa responded by pouring his tea in the other man’s lap, causing him to yelp in pain.

Just as it appeared that a fight was going to break out, the sound of a rhythmic thumping came from Genzo’s room. Chabo froze mid-lunge at Kappa and stared at the door uncomfortably.

“Hold on.” He poked his head into the room and popped back out again, confused. “Rika…? Uncle Genzo wants to talk to you.”

“Why me…?” she wondered. He shrugged and simply opened the door further, allowing her access. She walked inside and saw the older man, thin, sickly, and white-haired. A Den-Den transponder snail sat in a box on the nightstand and Chabo held the tray with the remnants of his breakfast. “Yes, sir?”

“The boys said that you know how to get the Fish-Men off the island,” he scowled. Rika sat down on the chair next to his bed, close enough to hear him wheezing through labored breath—claims about his health were anything but overexaggerated. “How do you propose you do that?”

“They need to get me close to them, then I’ll take care of the rest,” she said. He thought about that, then nodded.

“A Devil Fruit, hmm…?” She did not correct him. “Just don’t go filling their heads with ideas and then go back on them. We’ve lost too much hope on this speck of rock already. I might not be long for this world, but with any luck, they are, and I don’t want them suffering all the while.”

“Don’t worry, sir; I know what I’m doing.” She leaned in close to his ear and whispered lowly, so that only he could hear. His eyes went wide and he stared at her as she straightened.

“Really…?”

She nodded.

“Then get the fuck out of my house and go do what we haven’t been able to in the last thirty years so my soul can rest peacefully.” He held up his hand shakily, which Rika gently smacked with her own.

“You can count on it.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

A/N: Translations notes are as follows: kaylv = idiot; vyran = ruined; deldâremun = darling