#but. i struggle to draw sad guys so! i need practice

[jiyascepter]

Training Blues

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Loki x gn!reader

Words: 1133

Warnings/Content: Hurt/Comfort; insecure, sad reader, crying, sweet & comforting loki (cause who doesn't love a caring bf?), kisses & cuddles, mention of other mcu characters (say hello!), use of 'Y/n', both loki & y/n are Avengers

Summary: Y/n struggles with feelings of inadequacy in training until Loki comforts them

A/n: Feeling a bit low lately, decided to write this *alexa play 'i can do it with a broken heart'*

"Y/n?" You could hear his voice booming down the corridor, getting closer to you. You hurriedly wipe your eyes with your sleeve, sigh, and rise back up, attempting to calm your body language so that your beloved, god of mischief, does not perceive you as a crybaby.

It had been about eight months since you joined the Avengers. For the last few weeks, it has been really rough since your training partner, Steve, was away for some missions and was replaced with Natasha.

You just could not keep up with her; she used to get pretty competitive during practices, and no matter how much you tried, you just couldn't match her speed. And it was frustrating. Not that she wasn't supportive; you just could not convince yourself that it was okay to lag behind.

You were occasionally training alone at night, which meant you didn't have enough time with Loki. And he noticed this.

You were exhausting yourself, and it broke his heart to see you like this, and it hurt him even more that you weren't telling him what was going on.

"Y/n, what peculiar matters have stirred within you this late, my dear?" He says this as he enters your room.

"Nothing, Loki, I'm fine." You answer by not looking at him and pretending to do your hair in the mirror. It crushed his heart to hear your big, cheerful voice fade into a feeble whisper.

He approaches you and wraps his hands around your waist from behind, resting his head on your shoulder and gazing at your reflection. "I know what's happening with you sweetheart, and I cannot bear to see you like this anymore." He murmurs it quietly, tightening his grip on your waist and bringing you into his chest.

You offer him a fictitious, reassuring beam and try to back away. "Everything's fine, Loki. I'm heading to the training room." You turn around, kiss his cheek, and start to leave the room when he grabs your wrist and pulls you back to him.

"You're not going. Natasha won't be in the training room anyway."

You frown. "Why? Where did she go?"

"I beseeched her to suspend your instruction for a brief span so you can focus on your well-being." He says, touching your cheek.

You give him a perturbed expression. "Loki, you do not understand. If I abandon my workouts for a few days, I'll lose my practice and—"

"And? And what, darling?"

The lump in your throat that had been lingering for the past ten minutes was too painful. You would break down even if you try to utter a single word now.

Like a baby.

You become silent and stare at him with a tiny grimace on your face. Loki catches your quivering lip and draws you close to his chest, his arms encircling your body. You couldn't help but finally break down in front of him, sobbing quietly against his chest.

No No No. How could you let go of your emotions in front of him?

He scooped you up and laid you on the bed in a matter of seconds, comfortingly lying next you and cocooning your body once again.

"Shh..shh...darling, it really hurts me to see you like this, you know."

You peek up at him, your wet eyelashes glinting.

"Y/n my dear, you've been hiding behind that stoic facade for too long." Loki murmured, his voice filled with concern, and softly brushed a tear off your face. "What's exactly troubling you, hm?"

You sniffle. "I just feel like I lag behind you guys. I am new to this, and I need to train so I can keep up. But for the past few weeks, it's like I'm failing."

"Hey, you're just eight months in, you don't need to exert yourself too much, you know." Loki says, his voice a soothing melody in the quiet room.

"I just don't want to disappoint anyone." You admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don't want to disappoint you."

Loki's expression softens as his thumb brushes your cheek. "You never fail to falter my eyes, Y/n. In fact, you impress me so much throughout our missions that it distracts my focus."

He jokes, and you let out a gentle chuckle. He smiles back and leans in to kiss your forehead. "You are more than enough, always."

You smile through your tears softly.

He was so sweet with you.

He cups your cheeks and stares into your eyes while he speaks. "Do you know what else hurts me? The fact that you refrain from telling me what is going on with you."

You shift a bit. "I thought you would think of me as a crybaby if I complained too much... I don't want to set that image in front of you."

Loki chuckles. "Hey, you can share anything with me, I am your partner, am I not? And complaining about things does not make you a crybaby." He smiles and places a comforting sweet kiss on your nose.

"And even if such were the case, what of it? You remain unequivocally mine." He softly smiles down at you and wraps his arms around you once more, pulling your body to his.

You take a deep breath, feeling his warmth seep into you. "I just don't want to seem weak," you finally admit, your voice small. "I want to be strong, like everyone else."

Loki tilts your chin up, making you look into his eyes. "Do you remember the first time we met?" he asked softly, a nostalgic smile playing on his lips.

"You were so determined, so fierce, even when you were just starting out. I saw in you a spirit that could not be broken, no matter the odds. That same spirit is still there sweetheart, even if you feel weary right now."

You smile when he mentions that. "I was so nervous on the first day."

Loki chuckled, his eyes twinkling with affection. "And look at you now, my love. You've grown so much, accomplished so much. Do not let a few difficult weeks overshadow how far you've come. You are incredible, and I will always be here to remind you of that."

Loki's embrace settles on you like a peace blanket. Your love for him was coursing through your blood, reassuring you that everything would be okay as long as you had each other.

You nestle into his embrace, feeling safe and loved, letting go of the worries that had been weighing you down. With Loki by your side, you knew you could face anything, even your own insecurities.

"I love you," you whisper, feeling the warmth of his love enveloping you.

"I love you too, my dear," Loki murmurs back, planting a tender kiss on your forehead.

"Rest with me. Rest for a while."

Taglist in the comments because Tumblr is still buggy 😶‍🌫️

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— thx for reading ♡

[joshym]

Le Morte d'Arthur: Chapter 5 (Part 1 of 2)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Summary: It all began with a passion for literature. What was once a dream to walk the halls of the University of Michigan is now a reality.

You thought you were prepared for everything.

A new town, a new school, a new way of life,

but what you were not prepared for…

was meeting the enigma that is Jake Kiszka.

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Word Count: (for part 1) 29.2k+

Warnings: (for this chapter) please proceed with caution if you find any of the following to be triggering. MDNI 18+ ONLY struggles with body dysmorphia/eating (including food restriction & calorie counting), strong feelings of inadequacy, heavy emotions/ talks of an absent parent, *extremely* sick & terminally-ill parent, mentions of a hospital stay, anxiety/stress/depression, jealousy, severe emotional/verbal abuse from a parent, heavy sadness regarding deceased parents, cemetery visit

SMUT-18+ ONLY: unprotected sex, fingering, (f rec) oral, (f & m rec) road head, nipple play, spanking, slight choking, a bit of biting, tiny bit of cockwarming, possessiveness, edging, guided masterbation, overstimulation, hickies, use of colors, praise, a little degradation, sweet m!dom/bratty f!sub dynamics, heavy use of sir/doll pet names

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a/n: i know i’ve said it so many times, but i truly am sorry for the delay on this chapter. i hope this story is worth the wait, & i hope the contents of this chapter (hehe) make up for it. 🤍

i also would like to thank my readers for always being so patient with me & understanding that this story takes a bit of time to create. endlessly grateful for all of you. 🤍

also, huge thank you to @jakeyt for being the best editor & my right hand in helping create this. i seriously couldn't have done it without you. love you SO much. you're the best sister i could ever ask for.

Le Morte d'Arthur Masterlist, Series Playlist

! SMUT DIRECTLY UNDER THE CUT !

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With his fingers still tucked inside of you, stilled almost completely, Jake shifts his body so his face is right above yours. His thigh, holding one of yours down to keep your legs open for him. He puts the pointer finger of his other hand to your mouth, holding it against your lips. 

You’re stunned silent, mind racing at the fact that Josh is right outside the fucking door.

“We’re just fine, Josh. We’ll be out soon, just getting a few things sorted out,” Jake responds, his eyes staying connected with yours, voice completely manipulated so as to not let on what’s happening behind his door.

He winks at you as he begins teasing you with his fingers, testing how quiet you can truly be as he curls them inside of you, slowly and intentionally. His thumb of the same hand draws circles around your clit, beckoning you to scream his name. 

“Jake,” you whisper, only to be met with his finger gently gliding into your mouth. You accept it without hesitation, practically biting down on it to conceal your pleasure as you’re about to succumb to him. You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, needing to feel even closer to him.

“We heard you guys yelling and then it just got eerily quiet, are you sure you’re okay?” Josh inquires. Your eyes, widening at the realization that Jake has not seized the curling of his fingers at Josh’s suspicions. He’s only increasing their speed inside of you. And it’s clear he isn’t planning on relenting any time soon. Josh’s voice floated through the door again. “Y/n? You’re still in there, right?”

“Tell him, y/n,” he leans down, whispering raspily against the shell of your ear. “Tell him you’re okay.” He continues through a dark chuckle, knowing damn well you’re not fully capable of answering. His fingers, inside of your aching center and your mouth, made you quite incapable of saying a damned thing.

He pulls his finger from your mouth, slowing his fingers inside your needy core to a delicious pace that has the pads of them brushing slowly against your most sacred spot. The changes in pace are only pulling you closer to your end, and he absolutely knows that by the way you're squeezing him tightly. 

“Y/n?” Josh asks once again. Panic sets in as Jake persists, teasing you to the point of near madness as breath is stolen from your lungs with every movement, making it nearly impossible to utter a single coherent word. 

“Better say something before he opens the door and sees you like this. Wouldn’t want that, now would we?” He steals a kiss from your parted lips, a grin on his lust blown features that you can’t help but imitate. 

“Ye-yeah, I’m totally fine, Josh.” The words manage to flow from your lips with ease, your voice only slightly shaky, but hopefully not enough to compel Josh to inquire about your state even more. 

Your hands find Jake’s long hair, running your hands through it, you reach his scalp to trace your nails over it. He shivers at your touch, his eyes darkening even further. His dick, hardening even more and twitching against your hip. 

Hm. He likes that.

“Okay. Well, take your time, guys. But,” he pauses for dramatic effect. You're about to go mad. “We have to finish this scene tonight, okay? The deadline in my class is approaching, and I know yours is, too.”

You’re thanking god when you start hearing Josh’s footsteps, their sound becoming more distant as he’s walking away from the other side of Jake’s door. 

“Good girl,” Jake mutters with rasp in his sex-ridden voice. “So good for me, doll.”

His words, mixed with the risk of almost being caught by his twin, his fingers continuing to work themselves inside of you, and feeling him rock fucking hard against you… 

It has you finally careening towards bliss. Your toes curl, your body buzzing with need. 

Jake’s lips instantly attach to yours, keeping you from your need to scream his name while he eagerly swallows your each and every muffled moan. You feel yourself let go, painting his fingers with all you have to give.

Stars. You’re seeing so many stars…

He keeps his mouth locked tight with yours until he feels your body begin to relax, your breathing slowing, your tense grip on his shoulders loosening before your hands become weightless as they fall to the bed. He’s languid in his movements, strong fingers easily riding it out with you as you finish against his hand.

You suck in a sharp breath as he pulls his hand from you, holding it up between your faces before he licks and laps at your release, flattening his tongue against his glistening fingers. 

But then, to your shock (and dismay), he winks at you before getting off the bed. He smoothes out the wrinkles in his pants, reaching down for the chainmail top that was hurriedly thrown on the floor next to the bed. 

He’s done?

“Jake wha–what are you doing?” You question, slowly sitting your weakened body up to a seated position on the bed, your head feeling fuzzy and light from the intense pleasure he’s just pulled from you.

“You heard him,” he says, putting his arms through the metal shirt, wincing at the cool metal as it touches his warm, sweaty skin. “We need to finish the scene tonight. And they’ll start to get suspicious if we stay in here all night.” 

“But Jake I–” 

Your thought is cut short by him tossing the bag full of Josh’s stage makeup on the bed, landing next to you. 

“I know,” he says, then taking his hair brush sitting on his dresser and diligently running it through his messy locks to smooth them out a little. He chuckles while looking in the mirror, seeing traces of your red lipstick smeared all over his mouth as he begins to wipe it away. “I’d keep you in here all night with me if I could, but alas, duty calls.”

With wobbly legs, you manage to stand up from your spot on the now rumpled bed. You understand why this needs to come to an end tonight, but it doesn’t mean you’re happy with it. You’ve hardly gotten to touch him, and you want so badly to show him just how much you need him, all of him.

And as though he can hear the thoughts whirling throughout your mind, you feel the warmth of his body against yours as he comes to stand near you. “This isn’t over,” he says, lifting his hand to gently brush his fingers along your cheek. “I’m not done with you yet. But at least now…” He pulls you into a soft, feather light kiss with his warm and swollen lips, breaking away almost as quickly as he began. “...now you know the profound feelings I hold for you.”

Even after everything the two of you have just shared together, you can’t help the shy blush warming your face at his words. And all it’s doing is making you want him more. 

“I want to touch you, Jake.” The words fall from your mouth almost as viscerally as your hand finds his hip, slowly falling towards his cock behind the black satin. 

He sucks in a deep breath, his eyes lazily falling closed at your touch as he leans in to kiss you once again.

“Soon, doll,” he utters, his lips still touching yours gently. “I told you, I’m not done with you yet.”

He turns to the mirror to wipe away the last remaining remnants of your little rendezvous from his face while you begin the grueling process of trying to cover up the many love marks he’s left on your exposed skin with the stage makeup, and your tattoo that he so wonderfully uncovered. 

“Sorry about that,” he huffs through a sly giggle, watching you struggle to conceal a particularly dark one right above your left breast. “I couldn’t resist covering your pretty skin with marks that remind you.”

“Remind me. . .?” You breathe in question.

He walks up to you, lifting your chin, clutching it between his pointer finger and thumb. Right as he’s let his lips touch yours, he sighs in resolution to his thought. A knowing smirk tugs at his lips, tempting you to lean forward and complete the action that he’s teasing you with.

“Remind you that my mouth can treat you so much better than anyone else’s,” he says, voice laced with want as he turns your face to look in his line of sight, showing you as he points to the same picture you’d eyed earlier of him and his brothers. 

You know exactly who he’s talking about. The blush overtakes your skin, just as he leaves you, walking with slow purpose to his bedroom door. You can’t help but watch his shoulders, paying attention to the muscles that flex under the skin of his back. He turns to you once more as his hand slides over the door handle.

“Remind you how good my mouth feels on that irresistible fucking body of yours,” his eyes slide up and down your body. He bites his lip and your skin feels as if he left trails of white hot heat on your flushed skin. “Do me a favor.”

“Anything,” you utter much too quickly. Fuck. He made you so damn weak. 

“Next time you touch yourself,” he starts, dark eyes burning into yours. “Think about me and those marks I left while you fell apart – while I made the prettiest sounds fall from your lips. Hm?”

You bite your lip as you nod your head in agreement, feeling the flutters in your body at the thought. 

“Oh, and promise me one more thing,” he mutters. 

“Of course,” you respond, your breath catching in your chest.

“Tell me all about it as soon as you finish.”

Somehow, his gaze darkens even more and the secret smile that stretches across his lips makes your heart race a million beats per minute. 

“Yes sir,” you whisper, the words completely out of your control. 

He liked that name. You can tell, with the curl of his lips as soon as it fell from your mouth. 

“Good girl.” 

You are barely breathing as he opens the door. You don’t trust yourself to say anything else, so you  turn to the mirror to begin covering up the marks you know for a damn well fact you’ll be uncovering later to keep your promise to him. 

“Hey.”

You jump, surprised he hasn’t left yet. 

“Yeah?” You turn to look over your shoulder to find his hungry eyes. 

“Feeling inspired for that scene?”

Swallowing thickly, you nod without hesitation. 

“Don’t have too much fun with him, yeah?”

“Mmhm,” you reply eagerly, dumbfounded. “I’ll be thinking of you.”

He bites his lip as he leans his head back a little, appreciating you for a minute before he’s gone. 

And, at once, the room feels too big—much bigger than any other time you’ve been inside of it for costumes and makeup cover up. 

You aren’t sure if you should admit it, but Jake’s presence suddenly seems a necessity if you’re in the space…you’re longing to have him near as soon as he’s left you. 

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The weight of today is finally lifting off of your shoulders as you turn on the hot water to fill your bathtub.

All you’ve wanted to do today is come home and wash away your troubles in a nice, hot bath. But, your mom made that a mere pipe dream. She bombarded you with a list of things she needed you to do as soon as you walked in the apartment after a particularly long day of classes and work.

The laundry, the dishes, the clog in the kitchen sink that seems to keep coming back despite your endless efforts to get rid of it. Her bed sheets needed switched, her bedroom needed vacuuming, the refrigerator needed cleaned out. Not to mention the grocery run you need to make on an almost daily basis, for silly things that you don’t need. 

You find it rather odd how things seem to magically accumulate at home the way they do, the things that you have to do that she insists she can’t. The things you do every single day. 

It’s almost as though she’s adding to your chores on purpose for the intention to keep you busy.

As if you’re not fucking busy enough. 

You’re fucking tired. You’re tired of her creating things for you to do that prohibit you from doing your homework, filming, having your alone time that you desperately need in order to keep a semblance of your sanity. 

You feel as though you haven’t had the chance to breathe lately. Ever since she came home from the hospital, your workload has more than tripled. 

It’s not her fault. 

You know that. She’s sick. She can’t help it. It’s a proven fact that she’s not much longer for this world. 

But, once you found out that she hadn't been taking her medications like she’s supposed to, the medications that will keep her alive and breathing properly, you’re finding it hard to be as sympathetic as you once were. It’s not that you don’t care any longer. In fact, it’s because you do care that you’re so upset about it. It just makes you wonder what the reason is that she won’t help herself, why it feels like she’s doing it purposefully to keep you with her. 

It’s a spiraling, uncomfortable thought. And the truth of the matter is you don’t know her reasoning. And you won’t until you ask her. That is a feat for another day. 

Right now, your time to relax has finally come. 

Everything has been checked off her list and then some, including a (mediocre, according to her) salmon bake for dinner. 

She’s fed and she’s sleeping peacefully in her newly washed sheets in her freshly made bed. 

And now, it’s time for that much needed bath you’ve been longing for since the moment you opened your eyes this morning.

The heavy weight of your burdens begin to lift with every piece of clothing you remove from your worn body. You just don’t have the energy to wash your hair tonight, opting instead to throw it up in a claw clip to keep it from getting wet.

Though you’re usually intentional about not looking at your naked form in the bathroom mirror, you decide to give yourself a bit of grace tonight as you glance toward your reflection before you. And this time, instead of only seeing the endless number of things you don’t like, your eyes begin to follow the trail of marks left by Jake. The ones that serve as a lovely reminder of his mouth being all over you. 

You continue to stare at the marks that decorate your skin, noting how their shape perfectly mimics the shape of Jake's lips. Then, your mind begins swirling with why your skin is so beautifully blemished, and how fucking incredible it felt when he gave them to you— when he laid his claim on you. 

Fuck.

You want him—need him—so intensely. The craving your body has developed has only grown stronger by every minute that has passed since that night. The feeling of him, of his lips, his tongue, his fingers...and how he satisfied you in brand new ways with only those things.

And his hard, massive cock under the touch of your hand that you can’t stop imagining being tucked away inside of you. 

Inside your mouth, inside your…

Jesus. You’ve never wanted somebody so bad. 

But, imagining is all you can do tonight. 

You begin tracing your fingers over the fading purple marks, dragging them down their path. Traveling over your breasts, sucking in a deep breath when you graze your nipples, following them down the column of your chest, your tummy…

Then, you remember what you promised him you’d do. And right now feels like the perfect time for it. 

You can’t have him right now, but you can follow his orders. And for that, your imagination is all you need to ease the throbbing ache felt in your core. 

The tub is finally full, and the steam is flowing off the top of the water. You dim the overhead lights before taking your lighter and setting flame to your mint and eucalyptus candles you’ve placed on the edge of the tub. 

One foot in the water has you wincing from the heat, but it doesn’t take long before you’re used to it. Slowly, you step the other foot in, leaning down and fully immersing yourself in the water. Goosebumps instantly cover your now wet skin as you let yourself relax against the bottom of the tub. A deep sigh releases from your lungs before you breathe in the steam, your eyelids feeling far too heavy to keep all the way open. 

Out of memory, your hand begins tracing the path of the marks yet again, with a bit more intent this time as you’re remembering how soft and warm his lips felt against you.

Your fingers stop just as they reach your aching clit, the tiniest moan escaping your mouth. With a gentle glide of your middle finger, you trace long and slow circles around the sensitive bud. Even with the slightest touch, your mind reeling with the images of Jake between your legs burned in your memory, you’re already beginning to feel the fierce effect he has on you. 

With your eyes still closed, the only thing you can see is Jake. And that very image of him doing the incredible things he did to you the other night, along with your fingers quickening their pace against your pulsing clit, you feel the beginnings of a pleasure that only he can draw from you. Even if only the memory of him, he’s the only one that’s ever made you feel this way, the only one that has left you yearning in this way. 

You reach your other hand up your body to grab hold of your breast, massaging the flesh just as he did a few nights ago. It’s your hand, but you’re imagining that it’s his instead.

And that very imagination, aided by the now relentless circling of your fingers beneath the streaming water, your body begins to tremble and shake. Jake’s name falls from your lips in a nearly silent whisper as you succumb to the intense pleasure brought forth by a mere memory. 

You let yourself relax in the tub a bit, finally finding the strength to get out of the water as you’re fighting the urge to fall asleep against the ceramic surface. 

After lazily drying off, you wrap yourself up in your fluffy purple robe. After brushing your teeth and running your Wet Brush through the tangles in your hair, you’re at last ready to lay your tired body in your freshly washed linens. 

But, a sudden memory runs through your sleepy mind as soon as your head hits the pillow. A memory of Jake, of him telling you to let him know when you touch yourself to the thought of him, to tell him all about it once you finish. 

Fuck. 

You’re far too tired to fulfill his wish, though you want to so badly. The heaviness in your lids feel like fifty pound weights against your eyes. 

I’ll just tell him tomorrow, your very last thought as sleep finally overtakes you. 

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Tonight, your mom had gone to bed much earlier than normal and as if sensing it, Natalia had texted you asking if you wanted to hang out as soon as you’d sat down. And having felt suddenly super lonely, you’d agreed to it instantly. 

You felt a bit guilty leaving her, but you figured a few hours out of the house wouldn’t do any harm. And with her being asleep, odds are she’d never know you were gone in the first place. 

Some time out of the house is exactly what you’ve needed. You’ve been desperate to escape the walls of the apartment that have felt like they’ve been creeping closer and closer to closing in on you lately. 

She’d come and picked you up, but had let you know that Josh needed her help before you could do anything. 

“It’s Chi’s birthday in a few weeks, and it’s a tradition for Josh to take him to this place they’ve been going since they were kids,” she explained, driving worse than just about anyone you’d ever been a passenger to, through Ann Arbor’s poor streets. The streets, sure to be covered in the tracks of her tires. Goddamn.

At this point, you’re holding on for dear life. But, you just wondered something and you wanted to know the answer to it. So, you responded carefully, trying to not hurl. 

“I—I, uh, didn’t know—damn, Nat!” You gasped, right as she almost slmammed into the back of a car that she’d stopped behind at a stop light. 

“What?!” She asked, curls springing all around her face, caramel colored skin practically glowing under the street lights. As she scooted forward, going with the green light and pushing the person in front of her to go, too, you decided to say anything. “Come on, buddy! Move your slow ass! We’ve got places to be and a Josh to bother the hell out of!”

Deciding to not bother her with another thing, you decide to just let her focus on driving. You wanted to arrive alive, after all. Distracting her further may result in you not making it to your destination.

“What were you saying?” She asked again

“Don’t worry, Nat,” you shake your head, your voice surely communicating your rattled nerves. 

“Tell me when we get there,” she encouraged. “I wanna talk about whatever, but I can’t focus on anything other than the road when I’m driving.”

“You got it, dude,” you mutter, in complete silent agreement with her. Holy shit.

Thankfully, within minutes, she’d taken the last turn to get to the Kiszkas’ apartment in a back way you’d never gone before. A faster, learned way that you’re instantly noting in the back of your mind for the future.

And, suddenly, you were there. Parked next to Jake’s black Range Rover. Your tummy, somersaulting ridiculously at the thought that he could be home. You instinctively pull down the visor for the mirror, checking for any imperfections on your mostly bare face. Of course, you spot them immediately. Nothing you can do about it now, though you still ask Nat if you can borrow her lip gloss to add something to your face. 

Stop, y/n. You’re hanging out with your friend. Give her your full attention. 

The voice in your head sounded just like your mom correcting you, and it sort of pissed you off, but you took the bait. You tried so hard to ignore how your skin is vibrating as you walk your way through the parking lot to their apartment. 

“What were you sayin’ earlier?” She asks, as you take the elevator to reach their place. “When I almost crashed?”

You burst with a cough of laughter. “You noticed that?”

“Of course, babe,” she giggles. “I’m a horrendous driver. But I always get where I’m goin’ in one piece, so I just keep livin’ life on the edge.”

“I’m already one tap away from falling off the edge as it is,” you chuckle. “So if you could stray away from that when I am with you, that’d be super awesome.”

As you step out of the elevator, you’re still sharing a laugh over her crazy behavior. 

You’re waiting on Josh to answer the locked door after a text sent from Natalia and a rather abrasive knock. She’s probably the funniest, most bright person you’ve ever met. 

“I was just going to say,” you started, finally answering her and finishing your earlier thought. “When’s Malachi’s birthday?” 

“It’s exactly two weeks from today,” she answers, her brow wrinkling in curiosity. “Why? Wondering if we’re gonna have a party? We always do, don’t you worry. You’re invited for sure. The boys and I would have it no other way,” she winks, not winded at all from talking at the speed of lightning. 

“Oh, cool. Yeah, hopefully my Mom doesn’t need me,” you say, trying to play off your obligation to your mom. You did not want to feel torn between a party and the responsibility of your mom. But, that would just have to wait. “It’s funny, though, Chi and I actually share a birthday.”

“No way!” She exclaims, adjusting her headband to sit even more perfectly in her curls. “We’ll have to celebrate—.”

“Oh, no no,” you shake your head. “You don’t need to do that.”

“Don’t need to,” she replies with a wink just as you hear the handle to the door turn. “But I want to. We all want to, guarantee it.”

You don’t get to argue with her as Josh is quickly ushering the two of you back to his room. But…you’re conflicted as you sit on his soft white bed, you want to celebrate with your friends… you just feel like you’re not worthy of it. 

Normally, you blamed the new feelings of inadequacy on your dad. Though, you’re slowly starting to realize they may come from your mom also—. No. You don’t even finish the thought when Josh grabs your full attention with two different jumpsuits, holding them out for Nat (and you, apparently) to judge. 

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

“Oh come on now, Josh,” Natalia bumps Josh with her elbow. “Just tell me what you got him! I’m dying, I’m so curious.”

You’re sitting in Josh’s room, with Nat, as he patted down his white jumpsuit, adjusting the collar just right in his full-body mirror. His room, decked out in all white and gold fixtures, plants littering every surface, is the complete opposite his twin’s.

It’s fun being here, not having to worry about a thing. Just hanging with friends. Not wondering where the twin with the long hair is…if he’s home.

“You, Natty, are not dying,” Josh commented back, smoothing his mustache over his lips as he made a face in his tall mirror to try out his look. Seeming satisfied, he gives himself a smile, filled with all of his teeth. Then, turns to Nat, placing both hands on her shoulders. “You’re just dramatic,” he winks.

“Funny coming from the most dramatic person I’ve ever met,” she rolls her eyes, shoving his hands off her shoulders. She comes to sit next to you on the bed as he fluffs his curly hair, front first then the sides of it. 

“Oh, you know Jake is just as dramatic as me,” he insists, turning around to her with his hands on his hips. “Just doesn’t show it the same way.”

“You are correct; you two are quite the set of twins,” she shakes her shoulders, as if reliving memories of their chaotic energy. “God bless.”

“You love us,” Josh blows a kiss her way before grabbing his phone from the dresser next to the door. He stands next to the light switch, waiting for you two. “Let’s go ladies. I’ve got a partner to treat to a lovely dinner tonight.”

“Oh, speaking of,” Nat begins. “I bet you’ll never guess who shares a birthday with my brother.” 

You snap your head her way, silently requesting for her to not say anything. It’s a lot of unwanted attention that you’re not sure you’re ready for. But, she either doesn’t catch on to your look of pleading, or, more likely, she just doesn’t care. 

“Who?” Josh asks, totally oblivious to your sudden discomfort as he’s holding up his hunter green suit in front of the sun coming in through the window. 

“Our very own y/n!” She exclaims, playfully shaking your shoulders. 

Josh lets out a very audible gasp, grinning practically ear to ear as he hangs the jumpsuit up on the back of his closet door. “A double celebration, how lovely!”

“You really don’t need to do anything for me” you insist, but given the look on Josh’s face, he’ll never allow for such a thing. 

He shakes his head, going back to the green jumpsuit to straighten out the few wrinkles in the canvas fabric. “It’s already settled, my dear. You’re part of this crazy clan now. And that means,” he pads across the floor to you, patting your back and leaving a quick kiss to the top of your head. “You’ll be celebrated just like the rest of us.”

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

“It’s just perfect,” Josh remarks as the three of you descend down the stairs to the living room. “Like us meeting you was written across the stars.” 

Once you walk off the last step of the staircase, you see the twin you had decided to not worry about is in the kitchen, treating himself to a few Oreo cookies as his thumb mindlessly scrolls through his phone. 

“What was written across the stars?” He mockingly asks his twin, tuning in suddenly. He throws you a wink once he looks up to see the three of you. 

It absolutely catches you off guard.

You’re shocked that he’s acknowledging you; you would have assumed his mindless scrolling had his full attention. But, it suddenly seemed as though he had already been paying very close attention to your presence. The phone, seeming to be a cover. It was obvious, with him dramatically imitating Josh, that his attention was actually focused on the conversation happening feet away from him.

But now, you’re right in front of him. And the way his eyes are piercing into your own… damn. You feel every single flutter of your adoring heart at those whiskey eyes that never fail to make you weak in the knees.

“Chi and y/n both adore plants as much as I do, which is wonderful because that’s just what I had planned for his birthday party decor,” he says as he makes his way to the front door, reaching for his white high tops that are sitting in the corner of the foyer. 

“What does y/n liking plants have to do with anything?” Jake asks, unaware as he stuffs another Oreo in his mouth, chewing it rather sloppily with his mouth wide open. (Which should gross you out…but it doesn’t. How can he make obnoxious chewing look…good?)

“Because, Jacob.” From his arched eyebrows and increasingly short tone of voice, you can tell that Josh is beginning to get a bit irate at his twin's complete lack of observation. “Y/n and Malachi share a birthday. And that means we’ll be celebrating both of them at his party we already have planned the week before. Jesus, keep up.”

Nat and Josh weren’t aware of your upcoming birthday, meaning Jake was also unaware. And he looks just as surprised as you would’ve expected. 

“Wait, you and Malachi have the same birthday?” Jake asks, almost intelligibly with a mouth full of chocolate cookies. “Meaning it’s…soon?”

You nod, already dreading the attention it's attracting, fully aware that the birthday party will be far worse.

You had half-expected him to be angry about this, about you forgetting—or rather, avoiding—telling him. You wouldn't be surprised if he turned it into a pointless argument.

But, to your complete and utter shock, he smiles– a full grin, with bits of Oreo still stuck in his usually pearly white teeth. 

“That’s great!” He says, easing any worry you had about him being angry. “We’ll have to make it extra special for you,” he winks, causing your heart to flutter and a grin to grace your lips. 

“Oh, one more thing.” Josh says as he’s one foot out the door, now running quite late for his date with Chi. (To no one’s surprise.) “If you had to choose a favorite plant, or flower, what would it be?”

This is an easy one for you. One flower has remained the most significant your entire life, and for so many reasons. “White gerbera daisies, for sure,” you answer, recalling every little thing you love about them with a nostalgic, bittersweet fondness. “Why’d you ask?”

“Educational purposes,” he shouts, grinning at you before he blows a kiss to the room and hurries his way through the door. “Love to you all!”

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

“What are you ladies up to on this hellish evening?” Jake asks as he saunters his way into the living room to join you and Natalia. 

“No plans, really. Just wanted to get this poor child out of her enclosure for a bit while she had the chance to escape,” Nat laughs, nudging your shoulder.

“Well, you’re more than welcome to hang here if you’d like,” Jake offers. “It’s Sammy boy’s night to man the office, so I’m free to host if you’d like to have a few drinks and watch a movie or two.”

He’s speaking to both you and Nat, but he’s looking directly at you as he offers. You’re trying so hard to conceal your smile and your blushing cheeks, but it’s not working. And it’s obvious that Jake has taken note of this, evidenced by the mischievous grin playing on his lips.

Smug ass.

“That sounds good to me. Y/n? Any objections?” Nat asks, though your focus remains ensnared by the intensity behind Jake’s stare.

“Fine with me,” you answer, turning your attention back to Nat who already knew your answer long before you voiced it. You swear she knows everything. This girl doesn’t miss a damn beat. 

Though you weren’t prepared to see him tonight, you’re glad for the chance to. You just wish you would’ve made yourself look a bit more presentable for the evening. You always feel the innate desire to look your absolute best when you’re around him. 

But, it seems as though he doesn’t mind what you’re wearing or your lack of makeup, given the number of times his eyes have trailed your body in the short time you’ve been standing here.

“What’s our Daniel doing this evening?” Jake asks Nat. “Should we call him over? Make it a proper gathering?”

“A proper gathering?” Nat quips, smiling ear to ear at what you’re sure is the mention of Danny. “Sounds more like a double date, Jacob.”

A warm hue envelops your cheeks when she says the word ‘date,’ and the way Jake averts his gaze from you as soon as she made the comment, he must be feeling the same tension you are.

You know she said it on purpose, too. Her desperate attempts at getting you and Jake to do something with your relationship have thus far proved useless. Yet, she continues to try. If not for anything else, she knows how badly you want it, and she’s doing all she can to put the bug in his ear to take things a step– a few steps– further.

Nat takes it upon herself to invite Danny over, and to neither your nor Jake’s shock, he was in his car before she even got off the phone with him. He’d commit murder for her if she asked, you have no doubt. She has him wrapped tight around her finger. As it should be. 

She’s a fucking catch. Gorgeous, smart, and one of the most loving people you’ve come across in the span of your existence. And Danny, being the absolute sweetheart and gentle giant that he is, would do just about anything for anyone. He’s more soft-spoken, whereas Natalia is born to make a statement everywhere she goes, making them the absolute perfect balance for each other. You’re left in awe when you think of their beautifully aligned romance.

They are the definition of the perfect couple. Both such beautiful humans who bring out the best in eachother. 

What you wouldn’t give…

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

With Josh being absent tonight, the movie choice is truly up to everyone’s discretion this time. (Not that you’ve ever thought Josh had poor taste, being practically the same as yours.)

Though, it soon becomes clear that having a designated person pick the movie might be the best option, as no one can seem to agree on anything tonight.

“That one is a disgrace to the film world,” Jake huffs at Nat's suggestion to watch the first Twilight. “I vote we watch The Princess Bride.” He confidently offers, a bit more of a command rather than a recommendation. 

“I love that one!” You chime in, only to be met with Nat interjecting. 

“No,” she asserts, holding her freshly manicured hand up to your face. “I am not watching that damn movie again.”

“A New Hope is always a safe bet,” Danny tries while the rest of you grumble in unison at the ‘safe,” yet overdone notion. 

Only a few moments of this back and forth has you ready to rip your hair out. That is until you remember a staple of your childhood that you love, though it has always garnered mixed reactions. But, regardless of that fact, it’s unconventional enough that it may spark some inspiration from the rest of the crew. It’s worth a shot if it means you’ll be closer to finally agreeing on something.

“What about Labyrinth?” You propose, crossing your fingers that someone will agree to this one, or at least use it to broaden their suggestions. 

“Oh! That’s the one with Bowie, right?” Danny comments, walking out of the kitchen and cracking open his first can of Bud Light. “That’s a great one!”

“That sounds like a Josh idea,” scoffs Jake. “I thought we were rid of him for the night.”

“That,” Nat starts, following Danny’s lead in helping herself to a beer from the fridge, then walking back to the living room to sit next to Danny on the couch. “Sounds like the one we should watch. I haven’t seen it in years. I’m game.”

With a defeated, resigned chuckle and a roll of his eyes, Jake takes the remote and searches for the film on Netflix. “I suppose majority rules, then.”

“Jim Henson was a visionary,” you remark, strategically positioning yourself on the end of the couch to leave ample space between you and Nat, leaving plenty of room for Jake to sit next to you. “Labyrinth was decades ahead of its time—a true cinematic masterpiece.”

“If you insist, Josh,” Jake jokingly chides, clicking the Roku to officially start the movie. “Whatever you say.”

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

The movie is nearly halfway over, and hardly a word has been said thus far. (Which is something you’re not used to with Josh normally being here.)

Things have been a bit awkward since Jake started the movie, in part due to him not sitting by you like you had intended. Instead, choosing to ignore the wide, open space right beside you, he opted to sit in his usual spot on the beige Nova Lounge, leaving you on the corner of the couch alone.

You’d hoped that he would’ve gotten the hint and sat next to you for the movie, but, no. He chose to sit in the chair across from you, making you look (and feel) like an utter idiot while you're seated alone, eyeing the perfect spot on the cushion next to you that he should be in.

So, you’ve decided to give him the cold shoulder. Anytime he’s tried to acknowledge you, you’ve acted like he’s not there. Every wink he’s tried to throw your way has been met with an indifferent shrug of your shoulders, every poor attempt to get your attention has left him snubbed.

Judging by the way he’s sighed and rolled his eyes each time you’ve ignored him, it’s clear that your distance is beginning to get under his skin. 

Good.

But then, as you’re trying to focus your attention on the film, you see out of the corner of your eye that he’s roughly pulling his phone from his pocket. Almost immediately, your phone vibrates. Then it vibrates again. And again.

Jesus. Chill the hell out.

You turn your sights toward him, watching as he’s aggressively typing away at his phone, presumably yet another text to you. He’s looking up at you every few taps of his thumbs to see if you’ve picked up your phone yet. 

Until he stops, glaring at you so hard his eyes are practically burning holes into your own. He’s silently demanding that you look at your phone. But, you’re not giving in. Not yet. Whatever it is, he can just tell you in person instead of playing whatever game this is. Not having the patience for it, you roll your eyes and continue watching David Bowie’s master performance. 

That is until Jake clears his throat rather forcefully, startling you to look back at him. And, as you suspected, he’s still eying you, clearly pissed that you’ve yet to check your phone. 

You’re altogether annoyed and turned on all at once when he mouths out, through gritted teeth, “Check your phone. Now.”

Something about it makes you want to respond with “yes, sir.” And that is the very effect this man has on you. 

As much as you’d love to keep this going, you can’t fight curiosity of whatever he deems is so important that you must check your phone. 

Jake: What’s wrong? Why are you ignoring me?

Jake: Tell me, y/n. Don’t do this. 

Jake: Why are you acting like this? 

Seriously, Jake?

You: No reason. I’m fine. 

There’s no use in telling him. You’re not in the mood to try and spell it out, and it’s not your fault that he hasn’t picked up on it. 

But then, he texts you again. 

Jake: You’re not being very good, are you?

…fuck. You’re almost sure you can hear a raspy giggle coming from as it’s probable that your face is saying exactly what you’re thinking.

That message lit a fire in the pit of your tummy. Just imagining his voice saying that to you…

You’ll act annoyed about it, but only for the sake of hiding what it’s actually doing to you. 

You: Excuse me??

He’s glaring at you again after reading your message, full smirk on his lips. Though you’re trying to hide what you’re feeling, you’re pretty sure he can see right through it.

You: I’m not doing anything wrong, Jake.

Before you can even finish writing your next message, you see the three bubbles pop up as he’s typing. And just before you can press send…

Jake: Bet you didn’t even do as I asked. 

…I absolutely did. 

You weren’t prepared in the least for him to bring that up. You instantly knew what he was referring to, how you promised him you’d touch yourself to the thought of him, and tell him… 

How the fuck do you respond to that?

He’s caught you so completely off guard, you’re at a loss for words. (And horny as hell.)

Just as you’re trying to think of something— anything— to say, avoiding any and all eye contact with him, you see the bubbles once again appearing above your keyboard. 

Jake: Don’t ignore me, doll. You didn’t do as I asked, did you? Didn’t get your pretty self off from the marks I left on you, huh?

Oh. 

Before you can register the text, he’s sending yet another one. 

Jake: It’s a damn shame if you didn’t. I’ve been thinking about it ever since. How pretty you sound when you cum, how you’d make yourself feel so good that you can’t stand it any longer. The mess you’d make, all over your pretty fingers.

Oh my god. 

Your eyes briefly meet his, watching you as you’re on the verge of falling apart. He bites his lip, smirking as you cross your legs after reading his text, knowing he’s responsible for the ever growing ache between them. 

And then, he starts typing again. 

Jesus. 

Jake: You certainly look wonderful tonight, darling. Good enough to eat. 

Jake: And I know you taste divine. 

The grip on your phone has suddenly loosened as it begins to slip from your hands. You make a desperate yet failed attempt at catching it before it slams loudly against the hardwood floor next to your feet. 

Nat and Danny both snap their heads in your direction, watching you clumsily try to pick your phone back up. “Dammit, y/n!” Nat shrieks, having been startled by the sudden noise. “Are you good?”

“Y-yeah, sorry. Just dropped it.”

Fuck. 

When Nat and Danny turn their attention back to the film, you look at Jake who’s not even trying to hide his laughter. 

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

Nat and Danny's snores are almost in unison. The way they’ve got themselves tangled up together on the couch looks entirely uncomfortable, a bit of a pretzel situation. But, they must be at least a bit cozy given how easily they fell asleep. 

With the ending credits beginning and the time being much later than you’d initially planned on being out, well after midnight, you’ve decided it’s probably best to head home. 

There’s only one problem; Nat is absolutely passed the hell out. And you know better than to try and wake her. For one, it’s no easy feat as she’s one of the heaviest sleepers you know. And two, if you can manage to wake her, hell will be unleashed. You’re not exactly sure you want a cranky, sleepy Nat to drive you home. (Her driving is bad enough when she’s happy.) At least your life won’t be at risk for the drive home. So, that left only one option for getting there; Jake. Who, of course, agreed to do so with no problem. 

You’re torn. You want to be angry with him for being so awkward with you earlier, but your ability to maintain your facade is breaking. He’s got you completely worked up, your body on fire from the risky messages he kept sending you. (And it’s that very reason you’re kind of glad he has to take you home.)

But, you’re still pissed that he couldn’t just be affectionate with you like Danny and Nat were. It’s only Danny and Natalia, for christ’s sake. They already know of the fling going on between the two of you, so there’s not any valid reason to try and hide it from them.

It certainly wasn’t much of a double date with him sitting across the damn room from you, only texting you to have a conversation going. And as much as you enjoyed the texts, you wish he’d just shut the fuck up and do something already. 

“What’s the matter with you?” He asks after several moments of pure silence in his car. 

“Nothing,” you answer, keeping your face turned away from him as you stare blankly out of the passenger window. 

You’re beginning to wonder if he can sense the way your body is nearly vibrating as it’s battling with you to give into him, because you hear the faint sound of a snicker coming from the driver's seat.

“Doesn’t seem like it’s nothing,” he says. “But sure. I’ll buy it.” 

What the fuck?

That’s all it takes as your head snaps in his direction, arms crossed firmly over your chest. “You can’t just send me shit like that and not do anything about it, Jake.” You’re desperately trying to sound mad, though your shaky voice is probably a good indication of your true current state of mind. “It’s kind of fucked up, actually.” 

He looks at you before his Rover comes to a screeching halt at the red light in front of you, nearly tossing you out of your seat with the force of his brakes. 

“Yeah?” His left eyebrow is cocked, his lips pursed and his hands have a white knuckle grip on the steering wheel. “And who the fuck says I wasn’t going to?” 

Oh.

Your arms slowly drop from your chest as your defenses begin to crumble. Your eyes widen, and your lips part involuntarily. You can’t control it much longer, and you never expected those words to come out of his mouth.

“There she is,” he says, patronizing you. “You never answered my question. So, did you?”

Words don’t feel feasible at the moment. If you open your mouth, you’re not sure you’ll be able to control what comes out of it. 

You simply nod your head to state that you did in fact follow part of his orders, (nodding a bit too eagerly) though you’re doing it nervously because you know you didn’t do everything he asked of you. 

“Well, I’m glad to see you can follow some direction,” he sneers while pressing his foot a little harder against the gas pedal. “But you certainly didn’t do everything I asked, isn’t that right?”

Shit. 

You feel like you can hardly breathe as the Rover is crawling through the intersection, letting his words hang in the air as you desperately search for a valid explanation as to why you didn’t tell him like you promised you would. You know damn well that telling him you forgot won’t suffice. 

The Rover slows a bit, and in your peripheral you can see his head turned towards you. You’re keeping your eyes fixed on the road, pretending as though you can’t tell he’s staring at you. 

But he’s making it so hard to ignore. 

“Isn’t that right?” He asserts his question yet again, growing impatient as he awaits your answer. Though you’re still not fully looking his way, you can see the grin he’s wearing on his lips, and it forces a matching one from you. 

“Sure didn’t,” you say, pompous and arrogant as you keep your attention in front of you instead of on him. 

He shakes his head, letting out a snide giggle. “Rather audacious tonight,” he says, his hand reaching to grip your thigh. Your whole body shivers at the sudden contact that you’ve been incessantly craving all night. 

He knows. He knows how bad you want him, and that very fact is the reason he’s keeping you going like this. 

“They’ve faded, haven’t they?” He continues, more matter of fact than question.  “Should we do something about that, hm?”

You’re getting sick of this back and forth as his driving has seemed to slow even more in the last few minutes. You can’t take it any longer, can’t stand to wait another moment to put your hands all over him.  

Unbuckling your seatbelt, you adjust the center console back as far as it’ll go, leaning over it and meeting his lips halfway. 

Finally getting to taste him again feels better than any dream or imagination. Fuck, you’d forgotton how good he tastes. You don’t even care that he’s still driving, both hands on the wheel, but kissing you as though he’s wanted it as bad as you have. He’s driving slow enough, almost to a complete stop. If there’s anyone behind you, they can just move the fuck out of the way. You’re not stopping. 

He pulls away just long enough to see that there’s a red light in front of him, finally coming to a complete stop. (Thank god.)

He smiles against your lips as he continues, his kisses becoming more aggressive and his fingers weaving tightly in your hair, nearly pulling at the locks. 

When he adjusts himself in his seat, you reach down for the top of his faded black jeans, successfully unbuttoning them with one hand and undoing the zipper with the same grace. 

“My turn,” you whisper against his lips.

“Be my guest, doll.” He scoots himself forward in his seat, giving you the best advantage. “Take your shirt off first, though. Let me see you.” 

Your impatience is weighing on you, so you pull your sweatshirt off by the collar and toss it somewhere in the backseat, suddenly remembering you had decided to forgo a bra tonight when the chill hits your bare breasts, perking your nipples. 

“Fuck, doll.” He grabs your left breast, tweaking your hardened bud before slapping the supple skin, sending flutters to your core and a moan from your throat. “No bra just for me, huh?”

“Shut up,” you growl, leaning forward again to finish what you started.  

He pulls your hair back in a ponytail, tugging tight at your roots to lift your face to him. “Better watch what you say,  doll.” He smirks, biting his lip, knowing how much you fucking loved that by the sounds your making. 

“Yes, sir.”  

“Fuck yes, baby,” he whispers, keeping is grip on your hair.  

He lifts up just enough that you can pull his pants and underwear down to his thighs, at last freeing what you’re craving. 

Jesus Christ. 

God, you knew he’d be big, solely based on how he felt against your palm the first time anything happened between the two of you. You thought you’d properly prepared yourself, but you were absolutely not prepared in the least. 

He’s rock fucking solid, sitting against his flexed stomach. He’s massive, the girth alone has you practically salivating. You’re almost intimidated by it. Almost. But, that makes you want it even fucking more. 

You look up to him, nearly in awe as he’s glowing in red from the stop light ahead of you. 

“Is it up to your standards?” He asks, cocky as fucking ever. 

The red glow suddenly turns to a green one, and when he doesn’t start driving right away, you look back up to him in question. 

“Not ‘til you get started, doll.” 

 Fucking hell. 

You decide to tease him a little, licking the tip lightly, fighting the urge to take all of him all at once. 

You giggle when you hear him suck in a deep breath, gripping your hair even tighter before reaching his hand down to slap your ass. You’ve decided to take full advantage of having to lean over the console, sticking your ass up high, which he seems to very much enjoy. 

You take him in your hand, fully wrapping your lips around the tip this time, swirling your tongue around before sucking and letting go with a pop. 

With a drawn out sigh, he finally lets his foot off the brake to slowly crawl through the now yellow light. He’s got one hand on the wheel, and the other planted firmly on your ass. 

“Perfect. Just like that,” he groans as you wrap your mouth as far down his shaft as you can, tasting the salty skin on your tongue, licking along every protruded vein. You hold him there until you begin to feel it in your gag reflex. You quickly pull back, feeling slightly embarrassed about it. That is, until he says the very thing you need to hear. “Don’t stop because of that. Let me hear it, sweet doll.”

Fuck.

You take him in your mouth again, bobbing your head up and down a few times before lowering as far as you can, removing your hand from the bottom of the shaft, letting your mouth do all the work. 

And this time, when you feel it against the back of your throat, you don’t let go right away. The most beautiful moans come his mouth as you gag around his length, feeling it throughout your whole body, your core tingling with pure need. 

Instead of pulling away quickly, you slowly lift your head, sucking until you reach the tip. You swirl your tongue around it again as you lift away, tasting the precum as it begins to leak from him, strings of saliva still connecting you to him. 

You’re jolted forward with a hard crack to your ass again, moaning as you run your tongue along his tip. “Jesus, fuck—,” he blurts, his hand gliding up your back, griping your shoulder, fingers then weaving in the roots of your hair again as he guides your mouth back down to his pulsing cock.“So good, doll.”

You begin bobbing your head again, only this time, with his hand gripped tight in your hair, he begins moving your head up and down for you. You chose to give him the reins, letting him move you however he pleases. 

And it feels so fucking good. The ache in your pussy is nearly unbearable. A gutteral sound escapes his throat when your hand skims down to your still clothed core, in desperate search of any kind of relief. “Yeah, take care of that sweet cunt for me. I know she’s starved, isn’t she?” 

Fuck, Jake.

He moves your head slowly up and down the length of his throbbing shaft, then picks up speed as his breathing becomes more and more labored, pressing you down even further with every push. 

Your fingers are hastily circling around your clit, pulling you almost immediately to a release with only a few seconds of touching yourself. 

Your breathing picks up, faint moans from your throat, your arms shaking. “Goddamn, y/n. You fucking love this, huh? Nasty little thing, aren’t you?”

The words are strained as they come off his tongue, though you know he’s attempting to sound composed. But given the way his cock is twitching against your tongue, he’s nearing his end, too. You decide to take advantage of it, sucking harder each time he presses your head down.  

“F-fuck, stay right there for me, doll.” He pulls into the lot of your complex, quickly stopping in a parking spot and throwing the gear shift in park. The hand that has been tangled in your hair now rests on the headrest of the passenger's seat. “Gonna let me give it to you?”

You hum in confirmation, taking him as far as you can. You feel his warm cum shooting to the back of your throat, and you keep him there until he’s completely finished, swallowing everything he gives you. 

He sighs, mumbling a plethora of vulgarities. His voice is so breathy, the pitch higher than normal. He sounds fucking beautiful. 

You’ve hardly had a chance to sit up before he’s grabbing your face, pulling you in a deep kiss. “It’s my turn now,” he mutters, breathless while his lips brush against yours. “Get back there.” His finger dips into the waistband of your leggings, pulling and letting the band snap against your hip. “And take these off.”

He’s following close behind as you’re crawling over the console to the middle row, the seams of your leggings tearing as you rip them off your body. 

“Give them to me,” he demands, staring at your baby pink cotton thong, helping you situate your body just as he wants you so you’re sitting comfortably against the inside of the door. 

You carefully pull them all the way down your thighs while he gets down on his knees on the floorboard, his hungry, dark eyes locked on your exposed form. When you hand them to him, you’re equally shocked and turned on when he reaches up to the glove box, opening it with one hand and placing them safely inside. “My little souvenir,” he winks. 

He then begins teasing you, licking long and slow from your knee to the top of your inner thigh, his dark orbs fixed on yours as he does it. 

Keeping true to his promise, he sucks hard on your thigh, menacingly close to your pussy. When he’s happy with his mark, he seals it with a kiss, leaning up to leave his marks along your hips, your lower tummy, kissing each one as he finishes. 

“Mine,” he grumbles against your skin. “This perfect body is mine.”

Perfect body…god. You don’t know how he does it, but he makes you feel so beautiful, so sexy. Feelings you’ve never thought fathomable until he helped you feel them. 

You begin pleading with him to taste you, begging him. He doesn’t listen, his tongue reaching every part of you except where you need him. 

You can’t bear it any longer; you’re utterly fed up with waiting. You slide your fingers down your body, reaching for your core, carefully circling the pad over your middle finger over your throbbing clit. 

Jake leans himself back, gaining a better view of what you’re doing before him. “Certainly not very patient, are we?” He quietly hums, biting his botom lip as he keeps his gaze fixed on your wet, quivering pussy. “God, you’re gorgeous like this. Keep going. And don’t stop until I say so.” 

You become more eager, more fervent in your motions. It’s almost too much, your clit already quite sensitive from just a few moments ago, bordering overstimulation. 

But fuck. You can’t disappoint him, you want to adhere to his command. Him watching you, guiding you, is only serving to add to the pleasure. 

“There you go, doll. Rub it just how you like,” he mutters, leaning closer, teeth grazing the inside of your thigh before he softly bites the flesh. “Does it feel good?”

“Yes,” you sigh.

“Stop.” He takes hold of your wrist, pulling your shaking hand from your clit, glaring at you with a mocking sympathy when you whimper at the loss. “Yes what, my little doll?”

“Yes s-sir.” 

“Good girl.” You gasp when he nips at your thigh again, a little harder this time, soothing the sting with a kiss. He then lets go of your hand, letting you regain your control. “Now, bury your pretty finger inside to feel the mess you’re making.” 

You’d obey his every command at this point, bend to his every will without question. No one has ever held this kind of power over you. 

Your fingers glide through your folds, your middle proding your entrance before you thrust it inside to the knuckle. Your eyes roll back at the warm, wet feeling. Your thrusting becomes quicker, sloppier. You should feel embarrassment from the noises you're making, both your incessant whimpering and the wet sounds of your pleasure. But shame is the last thing on your mind. 

“Yeah, baby. You know what you like, huh?” His raspy, breathy voice is pulling you closer to a blissful end. 

But you’re finding yourself longing for his touch in place of yours. You so desperately want his fingers, his tongue, to bring you through. “Please, I’m–I’m so close…I need you.” 

He hums, sneering as he pulls your hand away again. He brings it close to his face, wrapping his tongue around your glistening finger. He laps away at your juices, closing his mouth around it, sucking until he’s caught every drop and pulling it out with a loud pop of his lips.

“Don’t worry, my doll.” His hands roughly grab at your hips, pulling you down the seat until your thighs are positioned over his shoulders. “I intend for you to cum on my tongue.” 

A moaned breath of relief leaves your lungs when his warm tongue grazes your swollen, pulsing clit. His brows knit, his breathing becoming heavier as he ravenously devours you. 

There’s no suppressing your sobs of pure ecstasy, and the louder you become, the more he gives you. 

His fingers of one hand dig into your hip, the other reaching up to your breast, tweaking and pinching your nipple. 

Just as you’re beginning to fall apart, his lips pull your clit into his mouth, the tip of his tonuge drawing hard and long circles around it. With a wail of his name from your lips, every inch of your body begins to tingle and shiver, uncontrollably shaking. 

You feel like you’re floating, the only thing keeping you grounded being Jake’s hands holding you still. Every star in the universe falls before your vision, every nerve in your body flaming with a fire so intense and hot. 

He keeps his tongue against you, offering slow and soothing licks to ease you down gently from what he knows is the most vigorous orgasm you’ve yet to experience. And he’s responsible for not one, but two within a rather short period of time. 

 “I–I’ve never ha–,” you start, though you’re finding you’re a bit incapable of proper words right now. 

He softly giggles as he shushes you, helping you lift your legs off his shoulders, kissing every expanse of skin he can reach while doing so. 

He then helps you sit up, letting your back rest against the seat. Once you're comfortable, he leans in to kiss your lips, the taste of you still lingering on his mouth, his face still wet and sticky from your pleasure. 

But then, he stops. Suddenly, as if he never truly intended to do it in the first place. 

When he pulls away, the look on his face is one that can’t be sure about. The lampposts in the parking lot illuminate the worry present in his eyes, the sudden reservation he’s having about taking this any further. 

“Jake?” 

He looks to you, pecking your lips before leaning over to grab your clothes laying in the seat next to him. When he hands them to you, it all begins to become rather clear; he doesn’t want sex. He never wanted sex. 

You can’t force him to do something he obviously doesn’t want to do. You huff as you quickly take the clothes out of his hands, sure you’re putting everything on backwards with as fast as you’re covering yourself. 

“Hey, don’t be like that,” he calmly says as your frustrations (sexual frustrations) are very evident in your body language. “It’s just— not here, okay?”

You’re remembering where your panties are when you pull your leggings up your thighs, feeling like you have every right to ask for them back, but deciding to just let him have them. “If not here, then where, Jake? If you don’t want to just tell me—“

“Don’t you dare let yourself think that I don’t want to.” 

He shuts you up with a hard kiss against your lips. If he wants to do bad, then why is he…? Is it Stacy?

Before you can let your thoughts run rampant, you hear your phone vibrating from the front seat. You break away from him to grab it, already know who it is before looking at the screen. 

When you answer, you don’t even need to hold it up to your ear to hear your mom angrily yelling at you to get your ass home. “Sorry, mom. I’m outside, I’m coming,” you say before hanging up. 

“Looks like you got your wish,” you say as you open the door, being sure you have all of your things. When you close it, thinking that’s the last you’ll see of him tonight, you hear him opening the door on the other side and quickly prancing around the car to meet you. 

“It’ll happen, doll. Patience is not your virtue, is it?” He quips, the grin on his face telling you he’s thinking of your impatient spell from earlier. 

Goddamnit. You can only stay mad at those lips for so long. 

“Guess not,” you snide as he pulls you in for a hug. The softest, sweetest hug he’s ever given you. You can feel the beating of his heart quicken against your chest as you squeeze him a little tighter. As angry as you are, you just don’t want to let go, to let him go. 

It’s just not in the cards for tonight…again. You have to be okay with that. 

It doesn’t mean you’re happy about it, though. He told you it’ll happen. You have no choice but to take him for his word.

“Goodnight, doll,” he tells you as you break the hug, knowing if you don’t now, you may never.

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A couple days later sees you at home with your mom, busting your ass to get shit done that you wish you didn’t have to do, as per your usual evening routine. You still keep finding yourself very much longing for the times when your mother could do household chores as well… but anytime you think those thoughts, you immediately feel guilty for ever wishing that. The lists just seem to get longer and longer each day.

Your mom is sick. Very sick. But, it doesn’t stop her from grating on your last fucking nerve. Like she has been doing all evening.

“Is dinner almost ready?” Her voice carries across the entire apartment, marking at least the fifth time she’s asked in the last twenty or so minutes. Your patience is wearing more and more thin each time she shouts for you.

"Almost, mom," you call out, your voice surely conveying the irritation you're feeling. You just can't muster the energy to conceal your annoyance any longer. By now, she has to be aware of how it's fraying your nerves, and it's painfully evident that she couldn't care less.

It’s been like this for a while now, and today has been especially horrible. Her demands have been increasing lately, and her dependence on you has taken new form. Ever since she was in the hospital, and when you found yourself falling down the rabbit hole of events from that night, things have just been…different. 

And anytime you’ve been gone lately, she makes sure to lay the guilt on as strong as she possibly can. The guilt has every potential to eat away at you, but since the discovery of her not taking her medications, since you caught her in an enormous lie about who called the ambulance, (who is Dodger?) you’ve found it a little easier to not let it consume you the way it used to.

Still yet, you’re a people pleaser to your core, and she knows that. She’s been using that to her advantage, keenly aware of the effect it has on you.

And she doesn’t care. No, as long as you’re dropping everything for her, she doesn’t care how you feel about it. Even something as necessary as going to work has her questioning your loyalty to her. You’ve explained time and time again that you have to work, because she very obviously can’t. Doesn’t matter to her, though. Seems she’d rather go without than have you gone for any extended period of time. 

Nat isn't oblivious to the way your mom treats you, and she hasn't been shy about expressing her distaste over your situation. Yet, you feel completely ensnared in your circumstances. You can't simply walk away from your mom; she depends on you. She still needs you. The mere thought of leaving her catapultes you into a whirlwind of shame, and you doubt it would truly be any better for your mental wellbeing.

You're caught in a bind with no apparent way out. 

So, once again, here you are. In the same place you are nearly every night, preparing dinner for her while you listen to her endlessly complain about how long it’s taking you. 

She’s calling for you yet again while you’re putting the final touches on her plate of baked chicken and broccoli. A new recipe you decided to give a try, at Jake’s suggestion via text as you’d mulled over what to make for dinner to him that afternoon. 

With a deeply rooted sigh, calming your nerves before you approach her, you take her plate to her bedroom where she’s been all day. She’s in the very same spot she’s been in since she woke up this morning, in her fortress of nearly every pillow and blanket in the apartment that she’s created on her bed. Aside from a few trips to the bathroom, she’s hardly moved at all. According to the doctor, the best thing for her is to move, keep her blood flowing. But, she won’t do it. Not that you’re surprised in the least.

“What on earth took you so long?” She asks with an arrogant, fake smile. 

“Wanted to try something new tonight,” you counter, handing her the very warm paper plate that she’s nowrefusing to take. “Just took me a little bit to figure it out.”

“Nope,” she says, holding up her hand in refusal and shaking her head as she motions for you to place it on the bedside table. “Too hot.” 

Frustrated disbelief begins to overtake you for a moment, but you manage to find the strength to compose yourself. No sense in arguing and upsetting her. “Do you need anything else right now?” You ask while you set the plate down beside her ice water. “If not, I think I’ll go finish up some homework, if that’s okay.”

If that’s okay? Of fucking course it’s okay. But she’s made you feel that lately it’s not okay to take a few moments to yourself. Even for homework. 

“I’m fine for now,” she says, keeping her eyes locked on the television in front of her bed. “I’ll let you know, sweetie.”

Still not looking at you, and without even so much as a simple ‘thank you,’ you decide to just leave her room. She’s right, she’ll let you know when she needs something. She always does. 

“Love you, mom.” 

“Love ya,” she says, blankly and distant, as you’re nearly out the door.

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You had decided to put The Princess Diaries on tonight for some background noise to do your homework to. Though, you’re realizing that choice may have been a mistake. You can’t keep your eyes off of the screen. This movie brings you so much happy nostalgia. God, what you’d give to have those days back. The days you’d come home from school, pick out your favorite snack and sit on the blue couch with little yellow flowers stitched in the fabric, watching whatever movie your tiny heart desired. 

Those days were so much easier. Even when things were hard back then, and they most definitely were, it was never the end of the world. At least, it never felt like it. Certainly not like it does now. 

Nothing is the same anymore. Not a single thing. So much has changed, and so quickly, too. 

But right now, as you’re watching Mia discover that she’s the reigning princess of the beautiful Genovia, with Julie Andrews to help her grow into the woman she’s destined to be, you feel the same sense of wonder you’d feel when you’d watch this as a child. That child that still held so much innocence and curiosity in her little body. That child that still had both of her parents, and even though they didn’t always love each other, she still had them. 

You feel the single, warm tear fall down your cheek, landing on top of the closed lip smile you’re wearing. 

You’re sad, but it’s a happy sad. The kind of sad that pulls you right back to a simpler time, begging you to remember something you’ve started to forget.

You’re a bit startled when you feel your phone vibrating against your leg, taking your attention away from the big reveal of Mia’s royal makeover. 

Your heart jumps up into your throat when you see that it’s Jake calling you. You wait just a moment to hit the green button, letting it ring a few more times so it doesn’t seem as though you’re too eager to answer. But, you can’t allow yourself to wait much longer.

“Hi, Jake,” you finally answer, cringing at your voice and the sudden very high pitch you’ve acquired. God, the way he makes you feel.  

“Hey,” he says with a deep, stifled voice. “What are you up to tonight?”

He sounds…different. Solemn. This tone isn’t familiar to you. Not at all. You don’t recognize it.

“Are you okay?” You ask, feeling as though your question just might be more important than his. 

“Just fine, doll. Can I come pick you up soon?”

He still sounds off, and when you take your phone away from your ear to look at the time, you’re even more perplexed when you realize it’s nearly midnight. 

“Jake it’s pretty late, I don’t think I can leave my mo— “

“Yes you can,” he cuts you off before you can finish, knowing just what your next words would’ve been. “I need you right now. I’m on my way.”

He hangs up the phone before you can try and argue it. And as much as you feel like you shouldn’t leave her, you know that it truly is fine if you do. What he said before the call was cut off, that he needs you… You haven’t the slightest clue what that could possibly mean, but you don’t want to question it. He said he needs you, and that’s more than enough to convince you out of the apartment. 

He’s on his way, so you need to hurry and get ready as quickly as you can. Surely, you’re not going anywhere fancy in the middle of the night, so a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt seem appropriate enough for your attire. It's not cute, but it’s practical. 

Now, your mom.

She’s not exactly been the biggest fan of you being out of the apartment as of late, and it’s not lost to you that she won’t be happy with you leaving right now. 

But, when you peek through the cracked door of her bedroom, you see that she’s fast asleep. She’s usually a pretty heavy sleeper, and with the constant humming of her oxygen machine, it’s rare that any noise penetrates her slumber. 

There’s a good chance that she’ll never even know you were gone. You’ve decided it’s best to let her sleep; what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. 

Jake must’ve been driving awfully fast. It’s just over a twenty minute drive from his place to yours, and it’s only been about ten since your phone call. But, he’s just sent the text that he’s here. You don’t want to keep him waiting, so you grab your black puffer and head out the door without giving your mom much of a second thought. 

She’ll be fine.

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

He’s silent as you climb into the passenger's seat. The only sounds being the thrumming engine of his Rover and Tom Petty’s voice over the speakers. 

“Learning to fly…” You acknowledge the tune as you buckle yourself in. “One of his best.”

“Yeah,” he quietly starts as he backs out of the parking spot. “Was my dads favorite.” 

There’s a heaviness in the car as he drives away to the unknown destination. A sad, sorrowful weight that you can almost see sitting atop his burdened shoulders.

It’s not often that he’s slumped over when he drives; this body language is one that you’ve not yet seen from him. Is it the song bringing back loaded memories? You know that feeling all too well. 

“Jake…are you alright?” You ask, timidly. But you can’t stand not knowing what’s wrong. Out of instinct, you place a hand on his knee and squeeze just enough so that he knows you’re here, in whatever way he needs you right now. 

“Just didn’t want to go alone,” he answers, keeping his eyes on the road but placing his hand over top of your own, weaving his fingers with yours.

Once the song ends, the very same one begins playing again, as though he’s got in on a continuous loop. There’s something going on, something that’s making him miss his parents a little more tonight. 

“Are you okay with a little road trip?” He asks, keeping his hand held tight to yours. “Frankenmuth is only about an hour away. I just need to be there, and my brothers are asleep and I–” 

“Of course I’m okay with it,” you say, assuring him when you begin to hear a slight crack in his voice, his emotions making it almost too difficult for him to speak. 

His grip on your hand lets up a little while he clears his throat. “Thank you, y/n.”

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

You began to nod off a little on the drive up, but made sure to keep your hand on him, laying your head on the padded part of the center console when your eyelids started to become too heavy to keep open. 

You never fully fell asleep, just wanted to rest your eyes. So, that means you were able to feel each time Jake brushed your hair out of the way when it’d fall over your face every so often. Or when his hand found its place on your shoulder, his fingers gently playing with the fabric of your puffer coat.

Though you weren’t completely asleep, you pretended as though you were. You didn’t want him to stop, and you feared letting him know you were mostly awake would make him want to. 

The same song played the entire time, and you found an odd comfort in it. And it’s clear he found immense comfort in it, as well. He started out humming along, then after a while began quietly singing a few of the lyrics.

“Some say life will beat you down, break your heart, steal your crown…”

Just as you’re about to finally drift away, the car comes to a complete stop and he turns the ignition off. 

You lift your head, and through hazy eyes, you see the little wooden sign in front of you that says you’re at the Riverside Cemetery. 

“We’re here,” he says softly, helping you sit up all the way. 

He gets out of the car, quickly walking over to your side and opening your door before you have the chance to. He reaches to the back seat, grabbing a heavy bunch of flowers that were laying on top of a towel. 

It’s pitch black, no lighting at all in the entire place save for the flashlight on Jake’s phone. 

With his hand in yours, he leads you through the unstable grounds, going slowly to be sure you’re steady on your feet. It’s cold, but the wind is still and calm, making it bearable. 

The sounds of chirping from the early morning insects are all around you, the distant hooting of an owl can be heard somewhere beyond the graves. It smells like freshly collected dew against the grass and trees. There’s a quiet peace all around you, the cemetery carrying a sense of rest and remembrance. 

It’s beautiful, really. A beautiful, peaceful sorrow. 

You’re about halfway through the grounds when Jake stops in front of a headstone, the one that sits alone underneath a bare cherry blossom tree. 

Your heart aches as you read the names engraved on top of the black marble, tears almost instantly welling in the back of your throat. 

Kelly & Karen Kiszka. 

His parents. 

And if it wasn’t harrowing enough, you see their death date. At the stroke of midnight, right before he called you, it became the anniversary of their passing. He carefully lays the flowers on top of the grass, then kisses his hand before placing it over top of their carved names.

That’s why he needed to come here. And he needed someone with him, he needed you with him. 

He’s usually devoid of heavy emotions, but you hear faint sniffles coming from him as he kneels before the quiet tomb that holds both of his parents.

You kneel down next to him, letting him know that you’re still here with him while he silently mourns. While there aren’t many tears falling from his eyes, the few that cascade down his cheeks glisten in the moonlight as it illuminates his face. You feel it with him, you feel all of it. His grief radiates through to you, sitting atop your chest as though you knew them, too. He loved them. He loved them so much. 

There are so many things you want to say right now, yet the words are lost to you. Sometimes, words just aren’t necessary. Sometimes, a person's presence is more than enough. And right now, as Jake reaches for your hand, his fingers weaving with yours, you know that you needn’t utter a single word. He just needs you here.

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

The sun is just beginning to peak over the distant horizon. You’ve been on the road back to Ann Arbor for about thirty minutes now, and though not much has been said, it feels nice. His presence is nice, and you can feel his gratitude for yours. 

You feel yourself becoming more and more drawn to him, to who he truly is beyond the gruff exterior he’s tried to conceal himself behind. 

As you’re starting to see it break, you’re realizing that he may have never been as cruel as you thought. The recent past with him feels incredibly faraway, especially in this very moment with him. He’s at last let himself be vulnerable with you, let himself be real. You can’t be certain, but you’ve a good feeling that doesn’t happen often with him. It’s just how he chooses to present himself, and you feel awfully grateful that he’s allowed you to see this version of him that he’s decided to keep mostly hidden. 

“Can I treat you to some breakfast?” He asks, merging left on the highway that’ll lead you home. “I just feel bad for having you out so late…or, early, I suppose.”

You giggle as you take him up on his offer, knowing that it means you’ll get a little extra time with him. “What’s even open at this hour?” You ask, noting the 5:02am time displayed on the screen of his stereo. 

“The Fleetwood Diner,” he answers. “Used to go there all the time with my grandpa. You’ll love it.” 

“Sounds wonderful,” you say with a smile, but it quickly fades as you come to a horrid realization; your mom. You’ve already been gone for far too long, and you know that her alarm is set to wake her around half past five. If you go to breakfast with Jake, she’ll wake up to an empty apartment. She’d be absolutely livid if she were to realize you’ve been gone all this time. “Shit, Jake. We may have to raincheck.” 

“Your mom, right?” He asks, knowing all too well the myriad of guilty feelings you had the last time you left her for an extended period of time. 

“I’m so sorry,” you say. 

“Don’t be,” he smiles, his hand gripping your knee. “I understand.”

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

“Where the hell have you been?” She screams before you fully step inside the threshold. “I’ve been calling you and calling you! Why haven’t you answered me?” 

“I guess I didn’t hear my phone—” You reach in the pockets of your puffer, stumbling all over yourself as you’re trying to get inside, only to realize that you didn’t even grab your phone before you left. It’s still sitting right when you left it after Jake called you hours ago. “Shit. I forgot my phone, I’m sorry mom.” 

She’s pissed, visibly pissed. Her features are cold and hard, her lips tightly held together. This version of her…you’ve only seen a few times, and it’s not pleasant. It’s not who you’ve known your mom to be your whole life. That’s what you’ve thought, at least. 

“You think it’s okay to leave me, huh? What if something were to happen? What if I collapsed again and you weren’t here again to help me? Remember that, y/n? Remember how bad you felt that night?” Her voice is vibrating off the walls, penetrating you deeply. You flinch with every word she yells, feeling yourself crumble and wither away as her voice becomes louder, her tone becoming more and more demeaning. “You said you’d never do it again. But, you left.” She shrugs, letting her arms fall to her sides. “Left me here without even bothering to tell me.” She pauses, sardonically chuckling and shaking her head as she sits herself on the corner seat of the couch.“You’ve made it abundantly clear that you don’t care about me. How do you like that? My own daughter, my very own flesh and blood. The one I gave birth to, couldn’t be bothered to care about me.” 

You’ve been accustomed to taking a lot from people. Taking their anger, their sadness, their grief. It’s part of who you are; you’re everyone’s favorite punching bag. 

But this…this isn’t something you’ll take lying down. Everything she’s just spit your way is wrong. For her to think for a second that you don’t care about her…when you’ve given her everything you have is just…

No. No more letting her take control of every facet of your life. She’s made it impossible to be your own fucking person at this point. No more shame, no more guilt trips.

No more. You’re fighting back this time.

“Are you fucking serious, mom?” Her face instantly drops, as though she wasn’t expecting much of a response from you at all, let alone this. “I do everything for you! Everything, mom! I hardly have a life because I’m here taking care of you!” You practically rip your coat off and toss it to the floor, not caring enough to put it in the coat closet. She’s stunned, staring at you with blank eyes. “And not once have I complained. I’m the only one that works, the only one who cooks, cleans, and you have the nerve to tell me I don’t care? I have begged you to take your medications and you fucking refuse. I can only do so much when you won’t do a damn thing!” 

You hate the words coming out of your mouth. They sting, they hurt. They taste like pure poison. But you’re done being taken advantage of. Normally you’d let her words slide under the table, move on and forget about them. But now, she’s accusing you of something that isn’t true. 

“That’s why you collapsed that night, isn’t it? Because you wouldn’t take your meds.”

She gasps as she jumps up from the couch, her body jolting away from the cushions as she rips her oxygen tube from her nose. She stomps towards you, hoping you’ll back down out of fear. 

But you’re not done. You’re not giving in. 

“The doctor tried to tell me and I didn’t believe it. I didn’t believe it until I saw it for myself, and I still gave you the benefit of the doubt. I defended you, mom. And you lied to me.” 

“I never lied to you,” she insists, her index finger inches away from your face. Her teeth are clamped, her face shiny with sweat. 

“Okay,” you say, holding your ground as she’s attempting to intimidate you, but you won’t let it work. “Then care to tell me who the hell Dodger is? Because I’m pretty sure Dodger is the one who called the ambu–” 

“You disgusting, ugly little bitch.” Drops of spit spray your face, making you take a step back out of utter shock. “You are the reason my husband left, you know that?” Her finger makes contact with your chest, poking you hard with her overgrown, red polished nail. “He left because he couldn’t stand having you as a daughter. He told me so! And you know what? I don’t blame him. Don’t blame him one bit. He was smart to leave. Wish I would’ve a long fucking time ago. He beat me to it!”

You almost lose your balance, her finger digging deeper into your chest. But as you take a step back, she pulls away, seeming to suddenly realize the pure venom she just spewed at you. The evident hatred that she’s harbored for you, that she’s apparently always harbored for you.

After everything you’ve done…

“Oh Jesus, y/n! I didn’t mean to say—” She grabs your hand, but you pull away from her as soon as she makes contact with you. “I don’t know what I was thinking…I just…Y/n, please forgive me.” She begins coughing, though, they sound fake. Like she’s trying to regain your sympathy. As much as you hate it, you still find the need to reach down for her oxygn tube and help her put it back on. She still needs it. Regardless of whether she’s faking this coughing fit, she still needs it. 

You’re in shock. Pure, hazy shock. You feel the silent tears falling from your eyes, silent only because you don’t feel like you’re crying. The tears are instinct; purely uncontrolled. No sobbing, just tears. Quiet, distant tears.

It felt as though this was a long time coming, like she’s been waiting for the perfect moment to say it. As you’re standing here, letting your thoughts amass in your suddenly aching head, you’re feeling no surprise over what’s just happened. 

You won’t even look at her as she’s pleading with you, begging that you’ll forget this whole thing. But her cries sound more and more muted as you stand here, feeling the ultimate betrayal from the person you thought you could trust the most. Feeling betrayal from both of your parents. Both of them who apparently have never loved you.

Shocking, but not surprising. 

“You okay for now?” You ask, monotone and barren of any emotion. “Because I–I think I’m going to go lie down for a bit.”

You hear her begging for you to stay in the living room with her, but you’ve chosen to not listen as you begin walking towards your bedroom door. 

The pounding in your head is almost debilitating as you lie down on your bed. 

You just want to sleep. You don’t want to let your mind race, let your thoughts take control. Sleep will keep that from happening. Sleep will drown out the sounds of her crying for you in the living room. Sleep will take you away from it. From all of it. Even if only for a few hours, before your day is set to truly begin, sleep is what you need the most right now.

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Your head has been so spacy this morning. The drive to school felt almost robotic, hardly any thoughts passing through your mind as you drove down your favorite, hidden road with where trees seem to reach the clouds. Usually, your morning drives allow you some peace and serenity. That just wasn’t the case today. When you arrived on campus, it felt like the drive didn’t even happen altogether, like you just transported yourself to your designated employee parking spot. 

Your mind just feels empty, clouded. Like nothing is real, yet everything is all too real at the same time. You debated on skipping class and work today, staying home, locked away in your room to let yourself sleep it all away some more. 

But ultimately, you realized that being home is, truthfully, the last place you want to be today. And if anything is going to force you to feel something, it’s school and your beloved library. You can fill your vacant mind by keeping yourself busy with the things you feel you have some control over.

You’ll still have to run home before work to check on your mom, just like you do every single day. Though, she’s convinced you that it’s not enough. That nothing you do for her is ever enough. Never has been, according to her. 

Stop. Don’t think about it. 

You’re here pretty early, so there’s not much else to do besides sit alone in your old clunker of a car and wait for the coffee shop to open. You’re in desperate need of some caffeine. Perhaps an extra espresso shot is in the cards for you today. Whatever it takes to get through, to put on a happy face and pretend nothing is wrong.

As usual. 

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“There’s only a few more weeks of the semester, which means your projects will be due very soon,” Dr. Movack announces as soon as class begins, shutting the lecture hall doors as he speaks. “It’s crunch time, folks. Your work should be nearing completion, and if it’s not, you should reconsider where your priorities lie.” 

His booming voice is one that you’ll never get used to, the way his tone bounces off the walls, as if he’s holding a powerful microphone in his hands. Which, of course, he’s not. But he sure sounds that way. It intimidated you at the beginning, but now, you find a weird sense of comfort in it. And you actually think you’ll miss it once the semester is completed. 

While he’s giving his usual several announcements, your attention is taken away from him when you feel Jake’s warm hand meet your upper thigh. His fingers begin tracing along the inner seam of your leggings, and it’s sending a wave of goosebumps throughout your whole body. 

God, you needed this today. Needed some kind of affectionate touch, some reassurance. You needed him. And it’s almost as if he knew you needed him, too. 

Safe to say, you’re not really listening to Dr. Movack anymore. You’re far too consumed with Jake at the moment, and as much as you hate being distracted from your class work, he’s probably the best distraction you could ask for. 

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“You working tonight?” Jake asks as the two of you waltz through the courtyard through the center of campus. 

It’s still so wonderful to you, even though the blossoms aren't as lively as they were a few months ago. With the early winter beginning its rein, the cold and crisp wind flowing through the now lifeless blooms, it’s a different kind of beauty. Still beautiful, though. And it still calms you, still grounds you. 

“Yep,” you answer, emotionless. 

“Are you going home first?” He continues. 

That question sends a wave of nausea to your tummy. You don’t want to go home, risk more confrontation with your mom. Having to still take care of her even after what happened... The mere thought makes you feel physically sick. Faint, almost, at the memory of last night. And as though it just happened, the sting on your heart from her words suddenly reappears. 

Without thinking, you reach your hand up to your chest to hold your necklace from your dad that you’ve not taken off in days.

“Mhm.” 

He blows a bit of air through his nostrils, stopping where his feet land and grabbing your hand to stop with him. “Somethings wrong,” he says, taking his sunglasses off as he looks at you, his tone conveying his genuine sense of worry. “Did something happen?”

Of course he can tell. He can see right through you; he reads you better than any book. 

And he’s right. Something is very much wrong, and it’s causing your mind to be awfully distant. But you’re nervous to tell him what is wrong. Feels embarrassing to you, a bit shameful. What if she’s right? About everything?

You’d wondered it more than once after he left, if you were the reason he couldn’t bring himself to stick around. 

She wouldn't have said it had you not been so mouthy to begin with, had you not asked so many questions. (What's worse, they were questions you’re not entirely sure you want the answer to.) You know you’re not completely responsible for her choice in words. But you can’t shake the thought that everything that has gone wrong in your life has been because of you, right down to your dad leaving. 

“Kind of,” you admit, feeling incredibly weird at the thought of talking about early this morning. “Just a really big fight with my mom,” you sigh, reaching up to touch your necklace once more. 

“Did you make amends?” He asks. 

“No, not really.” 

You feel the urge to cry, to shed real tears for the first time since it all happened. But you swallow it down. Crying about it doesn’t feel like the right thing to do, doesn’t seem like it would do any good. The only thing it’ll do is force you to feel it, and you’re not ready for that just yet. 

“Hey,” he says gently, his hand coming up to rest against your cheek. He must notice your mind drifting away again, or the tears that are trying to fall from your eyes that you’re holding back. “Do you want to tell me about it?” 

“I don’t know, kind of.” 

“Well, I’m all ears if you want to tell me,” he assures you. “But no pressure if you’re not ready to.”

You want to tell him, right now just isn’t the time. You’ve not even made sense of it in your brain yet, and that’ll make it even harder to articulate it all. 

“It’s just…” You sigh, thinking of how to carefully place your next words. “She’s not herself lately. Or, maybe she is herself, I just haven’t noticed it until now.” 

Your fingers rub over your initial on the gold plate. A source of comfort for you, though it’s suddenly not nearly as comforting. 

“What did she say, y/n…” He gently takes your hand from the jewelry, gripping your fingers tight within his. “Tell me what she told you.”

How do you even begin? Do you tell him you’re pretty sure that you’re the reason your dad ditched? That your mom all but confirmed one of your biggest fears last night? 

Deep down, you know there’s a chance she only said it out of anger, that she didn’t truly mean it. But, regardless, the words were still said. You may never forget them, no matter what she says or does to try and rectify. What’s done is done. 

“Just…,” you sigh, fingers reaching for your head to rub away the tension there. “She just said some pretty harsh shit about me that I’ve already thought to be true. And hearing it from my mom was…I really just want to forget about it.”

“I don’t know what she said, and I’m not going to make you tell me if you’re not ready,” he assures while softly pulling you into a sweet and gentle embrace. “But whatever she said, it’s not true. I know it’s not.”

It might be, though. She could be right…

“Thank you, Jake.”

He holds you a little tighter, closer to his chest as you’re basking in his distinct sandalwood and vanilla scent. “I’m going to get you out of there,” he whispers, his hand coming to gently hold the back of your neck as he kisses the top of your head. “I promise.” 

Why is she keeping Dodger from me? 

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You hardly spoke to her when you were home to make dinner before your shift. She did, though. Tried starting multiple conversations, as though nothing was wrong. 

It invalidated you a bit, that she seemed to have let herself get over it so quickly. It’s just not as big of a deal to her, you gathered. As long as you’re there to make her food and coddle her, even after what happened, she couldn’t care less about the way she’s treated you. 

Perhaps it’s water under the bridge at this point. It happened, there’s nothing that can be done about it now. No sense in dwelling on it further, though your emotions still feel a bit stunted.

It just makes you wonder— if your dad were here, would any of this be happening? Would he let her act this way? 

You want so desperately to think he wouldn’t let any of this happen. And, perhaps that’s somewhat true. 

But, he still left. He surely knew the responsibilities he’d be leaving you with, and that didn’t stop him. 

That makes you believe that while he knew, he just didn’t care. 

But fuck. You miss him so bad right now. And you’re angry that you miss him. You can’t even be sure that things would be much different had he not left, but you’re holding on to the chance they may have been. 

In the wake of every fond memory you’re having of him lately, your resentment for him grows stronger and stronger because of that. 

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“You’re not actually planning on wearing that, are you?” Nat spouts from your bedroom closet, watching as you take a clean sweater off its hanger, one of your tried and true black fluffy ones that you wear at least once a week. 

“Damn, didn’t know the chief of the fashion police was my best friend,” you joke, holding the sweater up to your body as you stand in front of your vanity mirror. “What's wrong with it? I think it’s really flattering on me.” 

Flattering may be a bit of an overstatement. Something with such an exaggerated, oversized fit can only be so flattering on your body. 

You don’t know why you’re still so nervous to let go of this fixation on big clothing, especially around your friends who’ve seen you in some incredibly revealing costumes. 

But, the urge to hide is still ever present, even after everything. You want to have a good time tonight, to not be so consumed with insecurities because you chose to wear something that fits your frame a bit more snug than normal.

Aside from that, you can feel every bit of that turkey and swiss you ate for lunch earlier, sitting right in the lower part of your stomach, in your arms, your thighs…

You had been feeling faint today, and as much as you tried to ignore the ceaseless rumbling of hunger in your tummy, you gave in. That familiar feeling of your blood sugar dropping also set your nerves alight, and when you start feeling like that, you know it’s time to give your body something to tide yourself over for a while. 

Your brain didn’t want you to, but your body has begun to feel the effects of your restrictions as of late. And as much as your thoughts are overbearing, the ones that tell you not to eat for a multitude of reasons, you're fearful of the effects of malnutrition. 

And you know that is a big part of recovery, to be scared of what will happen to you when you go so long without any substantial food. 

So, half a turkey on rye was just what you needed. Though, you had to fight with yourself to not go for a bag of baked Lay’s chips, too. 

The sandwich was enough. Plenty, actually.

But you knew as soon as you ate it that the feelings of guilt would make their appearance. And, just as you suspected, here they are. Right on queue as you’re trying to figure out what to wear tonight that Nat won’t disapprove of.

“Babe, to be flattering,” she shuffles toward you, taking the sweater from your hands and tossing it out of sight. “You can’t be hidden behind something that can fit two of you.” 

Hidden. 

She crosses the threshold of your closet in search of something she deems appropriate for tonight. But she drops her arms to her sides, letting out a dissatisfied sigh as she discovers how limited your wardrobe options truly are. 

“What about that outfit you wore the night we went to the haunted hou—” 

“No,” you interrupt, stopping her before she can say much more about that evening. “Anything but that.” 

It’s not that you didn’t like that outfit, you actually quite loved it. But, since that night, those pieces of clothing now hold a negative connotation. The events of that night have become intertwined into the stitching.You have it in your right mind to rid your closet of those pieces once and for all. 

“Okay then. So, what do you normally wear to your birthday parties?” She asks while pulling out a few sweaters and crewnecks, weighing her options for styling you for tonight. “Like, what did you wear last year? Because surely you didn’t wear one of these tired things.” She holds up a particularly large sweater, one that you wear often enough that you know she recognizes it. 

She’s right; these pieces are worn out, their threads are tattered and tired. Very tired. Nearly as tired as you are that you feel the unabating need to wear only them every single day. 

“Well,” you start, preparing yourself to tell her the incredibly sad reality of your entire life. “I didn’t have one last year. Actually, I’ve never had one.” 

She sets the sweater down on the shelf sitting below the hanging clothes, turning her body to fully face you, a sorrowful look present in her usually happy eyes. 

“You’ve…you’ve never had a birthday party? Even as a kid?” She asks, shocked. 

“Never.” 

She scratches her head, a loose curl falling over the faint freckles on forehead that she brushes away. “That’s sad as fuck, y/n,” she admits, sitting on the floor as you follow suit in sitting across from her. “Why haven’t you? Does your family just not celebrate birthdays or—?”

You bring your knees up to your chin, wrapping your arms around your legs as you silently contemplate it all for a moment. Something that has never been a big deal to you or anyone around you, is suddenly very sad to someone else. You’d always been a little sad about it, but it wasn’t out of the ordinary for you. It’s been your ‘normal’ for a long ass time. 

“My mom always told me that celebrating my birthday wasn’t necessary, that I should be “celebrated every day,” not just one day of the year,” you say, adding air quotes to emphasize your moms words. “But, I don’t know—  it’s not like she really held true to that. I wasn’t even allowed to go to birthday parties, let alone have any friends. My dad always tried to change her mind but—” 

You feel so strange talking about this, talking about your mom like this. As if she’s suddenly the villain in your life, not your dad. It’s a tough realization that you’re not sure you’re ready to confront just yet. But given everything with your mom as of late, the other night…fuck. It’s a hard thing to grasp, to think that you’ve been manipulated so badly that you’ve gotten it all wrong. 

But the more you think about your childhood, about the move to Michigan, about the strange inconsistencies with her illness and her refusing to take her medications as prescribed, the horrid words she used and still uses against you…

It’s becoming impossible to leave it at the back of your mind any longer. It’s taking up a lot of space in your psyche these days. 

“I think she meant well, Nat. I mean, she is right about one thing,” you stand up again, wanting to remove yourself from this suddenly far too vulnerable position. “We shouldn’t only feel love on our birthdays. We should feel celebrated all the time.”

“Y/n.” Her voice is assertive as she stands up to meet you. “You don’t need to try and defend her, especially if it hurts you that she never gave you a fucking birthday party.” She shakes her head in utter confusion, and you can feel the irritation from her over how you still manage to find it necessary to defend your mom. It’s ingrained in you to do that, though. A trait you’re slowly unlearning as things come to light. “I can’t make sense of a lot of things your mom does to you, but especially that.”

“I know, it’s just…” You’re keeping your voice as quiet as you can. She’s asleep, on the opposite end of the apartment, but still. You can’t risk her hearing what the two of you are talking about. “I’ve gotten used to it, I guess. It’s been my whole life, so it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for me.”

“Just because you’re used to it,” she says, thankfully matching your low volume, placing a loving hand on your shoulder. “Doesn’t mean it doesn't hurt.”

She’s right. Fuck. She’s always right.

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Nat successfully convinced you to make a quick run to the mall to find something nice to wear tonight. 

“You deserve to feel pretty for your first ever birthday party,” she told you. 

So, here you are, galavanting across Briarwood Mall in Ann Arbor, searching for a store that strikes your fancy. The only one so far being Alter’d State. You’re almost sure there isn’t one of these within a hundred miles of your childhood home, so this is the first time you’ve seen this renowned clothing store in person. 

But once you look at the price tag of the first top you see, you’re tempted to get the hell out. A bit out of your price range, to say the very least. 

“Keep looking,” Nat insists, clearly picking up on your (apparently very obvious) hesitations. “Don’t let one price scare you. There’s a lot to look at.”

You spend a good amount of time shuffling through the racks, convincing yourself that none of these things could possibly work for you. 

But the hard truth of the matter; you’re just buying time so you don’t have to do the scary inevitable— trying something on.

Everything that Nat has shown you, you’ve found some reason to not want to try it on. 

The fabric is too scratchy, you can’t afford it, it’s not your ‘vibe.’ Basically, you’ve been searching for any excuse you possibly can to avoid the ever daunting dressing rooms. 

And now, as you’re turning down the probably tenth item she’s shown you, you can sense her frustrations with you. Though, in true Natalia fashion, she handles it with pure grace and care. 

“Tell me what you are looking for, what you’ll feel good in.” She puts the dress she found back on the rack she pulled it from. “Give me an idea of what you want and I’ll help you the best I can. But you’ve got to give me something to go off of, because you’ve hated everything I’ve shown you.”

If you’re honest, you have no clue what you’re looking for. Well, aside from something you can hide your body beneath, but Nat won’t allow for that. 

So, as you’re glancing around the store, you finally see something that catches your eye. A lovely corset tank top, reminiscent of the corset in your red Guiniverre dress. But, this top is a pretty periwinkle color, and it’s nearly full lace. (Which makes you think of your other Guiniverre costume.) 

It’s not something you’d ever be able to picture yourself in, but you’re drawn to it, nonetheless. 

“I think I like this,” you say to Nat as you walk over to take it from the rack. And to your amazment, your size is the one hanging closest to you. A sign? 

Nat gasps when you take it, speed walking to you. “This is so fucking cute, y/n! Do you want to try it on?” 

Fuck no. 

“Yeah, guess I should,” you say, deciding it’s probably best to answer that way instead of the way your brain wants you to.

“You know what would look good with this?” 

Someone with a better body? 

“What are you thinking?” You inquire. 

“A good ass pair of dark wash jeans. Maybe even black jeans, with a mom fit.” 

Fucking jeans. Dear Jesus. 

She drags you around the store to find her exact vision until she stumbles upon the very jeans she had pictured in her mind. You feel like you could puke when she asks you what size you wear. 

But instead of telling her, you lightly nudge her aside to look for yourself. And just like the tank top, your size is the very first one on the rack. Weird. 

As much as you despise jeans, you’re somehow feeling the same attraction to these faded black ones that you felt towards the periwinkle top. They’re really fucking cute, and the baggier ‘mom’ fit is far more appealing than the horrid skinny jeans you used to wear in high school. Gag. 

“These are perfect. Get over there and try these bitches on,” Nat tells you, pointing to the wooden dressing room door directly behind you.

The attendant lets you in, and when you shut the door behind you, your every fear of these damned things are becoming realized. 

And a big reason why you hate them so much— the giant ass mirror that you’re forced to face your reflection in. 

Why can’t you just be confident all the fucking time? It’s not like you completely lack it; it just presents itself at the most random times. Or, when you’re with Jake, when whatever powers he possesses over you force the confidence out of you, allowing you to do what you did to him the other night when he took you home. (That you have not stopped thinking about since.)

But, right now, you’re having one of those other moments, the ones that are full of loud thoughts of self doubt, of self destruction. And while Nat’s intentions are good, you’re finding it hard to allow someone else to help make these kinds of decisions for you. Especially someone as perfectly and beautifully built as Natalia Delores.

The thoughts are keeping you frozen solid before this huge mirror under the most invasive, bright fluorescent lighting. (Why can’t they use more forgiving lighting in these things?)

Get out of your head, y/n.

A knock on the door lulls you out of your fearful stiffness. “Have you tried them on yet?” Nat says, her sweet voice beckoning you to get over this massive bout of anxiety. “Come out and let me see!” She continues. 

“One sec,” you tell her, taking a deep breath in order to muster the inner courage necessary to face this (ridiculous) fear. 

You can’t even remember the last time you were inside of a dressing room, trying on something new, something so far out of your comfort zone. 

But, if you can be on film in a number as revealing as your little black lace ensemble, you can certainly do this. You feel so silly that this is so ridiculously hard for you, when you’ve done much more in front of a group of people and a camera.

Thankfully, the corset top is equipped with padding in the chest, so a bra isn’t necessary with it. Once you remove your crewneck and bra, you take the corset and as quickly as you can, (so you can’t over fucking think this anymore) you unlace the back and pull it on over your head. 

Yet again, you’re frozen in your fear. You’ve not even laced the back yet, not even so much as looked in the damn mirror. You’re terrified to look and find yourself hating it. 

In fact, you’ve already made it up in your mind that it’s going to look horrible, so what’s the point in looking? Why even bother with it when…

“Y/n! Get your cute ass out here and let me see!”

Ugh.    

You want to see yourself before she sees you, so with a silent three, two, one countdown, you look up and face the formidable mirror.

The first thing you notice isn’t your body… It's the color of the shirt. You instantly note how flattering this shade is against your skin, how it compliments your hair. It looks good…?

You half-assedly tighten the laces in the back, not bothering to perfect it at the moment. 

Then, your focus switches to your arms, one of your least favorite parts about yourself. While they’re on full display, something you try not to allow for, you have to admit to yourself that they don’t look too bad. And, with as chilly as the weather has been these days, there’s nothing saying you can’t throw on your pleather jacket for warmth and security. 

But, you don’t hate the way your arms look.

That’s a first. 

With one item officially out of the way, you’re feeling a little better about the whole thing, a bit more confident to try on the jeans that are undoubtedly a lot scarier for you. But with the top being a pretty decent success, trying on the jeans suddenly feels less intimidating.

You remove your leggings, one leg at a time, before taking the jeans and undoing the button and zipper. 

When you put the first leg in, you let out a sigh of relief when you find how easy it is to slip your leg through. The next leg is just as easy, too. 

But now, it’s the moment of absolute truth. 

Sucking in as hard as you possibly can, (though you quickly discover that isn’t entirely necessary, you still do it. Force of habit.) you attach the loop to the button, then slowly pull the zipper up. They fit. And they fit really well. This is the first pair of jeans you’ve tried on if god knows how long. 

As you examine the way they look on your body, being sure to check every angle of yourself that you can, you’re shocked at how good they look on you. The legs are a comfortable, loose fit, but they fit snugly (not too snug) around your hips and ass. And they make your ass look incredible. 

You hadn’t realized how long you’ve been standing here until Nat very loudly clears her throat, your reminder to show her the completed look she helped you pick out. 

“Coming!” You announce as you get one final glance in before letting her see.

Her jaw drops the moment you step out of the tiny room, her eyes scanning up and down your body as you walk through the door. 

She still hasn’t said a word. You haven’t a clue what the fuck that means, because you’ve yet to witness a silent Natalia since the day you met her. 

Does she hate it? Does she love it? You feel awkward as hell standing before her with her completely quiet like this. It’s making you wonder if the whole thing truly looks like shit on you, or if you’re just not meant for clothes like this.

“Well? What do you thi–”

“Why the fuck don’t you wear things like this more often?” She interrupts, garnering the attention from the rest of the damn store as she does so with a vibrant voice, your embarrassment is palpable in your anxious laughter. 

She silently apologizes to each passerby with a timid wave of her hand before she (a little more calmly) continues. 

“You look hot as fuck babe,” she says, walking closer to you to get a better look. “Seriously, why don’t you wear things like this?” She asks again.

The blush rises to your cheeks at her compliments. You’ve never had real friends, let alone a friend to build you up like this. Your own mother doesn’t even bother to lift you up the way Nat does, and you’ve only known her for a mere few months, versus your whole life with your mom.. 

“I’m just having a hard time with—” Feeling out of control, letting myself eat, hating my body, wishing I looked like you. “Just a bit insecure, I guess. But I love this outfit. Do you think it’s okay for the party?”

She knows you, and she can tell you’re not saying what you truly want to say. How do you even articulate what you’ve been feeling as of late? That you’ve suddenly relapsed and reverted back to your old eating habits? Or, lack thereof, rather….It’s like it never left. It’s been dormant within you, waiting for the perfect trigger to wake it back up.

Though, you can’t figure out what triggered it. Your dad leaving? Your mom? The move? The film project? Stacy and her perfect, gorgeous frame that caught Jake’s attention long before you did? God, you want to forget about her. But you can’t. She won’t stop coming around and if you want to keep whatever the fuck it is you have with Jake, you need to look your best. 

“It’s perfect,” you hear Nat say amidst your swirling mind. “And you better fucking wear it. No giant ass sweater that swallows up all of this.” She playfully taps your ass, acting as if it’s so hot that it burnt her fingertips. 

“I promise I’ll wear it,” you chuckle. “No giant ass sweaters.”

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The last chorus of ‘Happy Birthday’ has at last come to an exuberant end, with Josh throwing a few dramatically loud vocal runs on the last note to be sure his is the last voice heard at the end of the classic tune.  

Thank goodness you share a birthday with Malachi, so you’re not standing in front of everyone by yourself as they serenade you, this being the first time you’ve ever been serenaded on your birthday. (You’re kind of glad you’ve not had to experience this torture every year; it’s awkward as hell.)

It seemed Malachi could sense your discomfort throughout the whole thing, so he kept his arm wrapped around your shoulder until the song ended, squeezing you every so often so you knew he was there with you. 

And Jake could sense it, too. He smiled at you the entire time, winking when they vehemently sang your name after Malachi’s and you could feel the warm blush painting your cheeks. 

The party has been far more than you could’ve ever imagined. Josh, being the master designer he is, spared no cost when decorating their apartment for yours and Malachi’s shared birthday bash. 

It’s truly so beautiful, not that you expected anything less from Josh. You and Malachi both have an adoration for plants, and this being something Josh also loves, there’s no shortage of greenery flowing throughout the space. (More than usual, that is.) He’s even put together little potted succulents for everyone to take home. 

Aside from the vines and ivy splayed throughout the apartment, there are balloons galore of white and green floating freely, along with a few clear ones complete with wildflowers inside them. 

And, your favorite part; your very own birthday cake, decorated in sage and white with “Happy birthday, y/n!” in off white buttercream, written in perfect calligraphy on the top. 

It's so incredibly sweet that you and Malachi both have your own, personal birthday cakes, that Josh made sure you both feel special tonight. It’s all so much more than you could’ve ever asked for, right down to the gorgeous spread of sushi along the bar in the kitchen. 

Though, as if they can pick and choose when to weave their way in, the thoughts are yelling at you to not partake in the incredible dinner that’s been provided for the night once Josh invites everyone to the kitchen to come eat. 

You want to eat. God knows you do. But, the voice telling you not to is nearly overpowering the hunger you’re feeling. You’d spent all day convincing yourself that the turkey sandwich from earlier was more than enough to sustain you for the day. (Though, you know that isn’t true.)

You’ll feel guilty if you eat, you’ll feel guilty if you don’t eat…but choosing to not eat would perhaps raise a few questions that you’re not in any place to answer right now. 

So, what the fuck do you do? You’ll be miserable no matter what, but what will make you the least miserable? 

Your silent contemplation seems to have garnered a bit of attention from Josh, his gentle touch to your forearm dragging you away from your thoughts. 

“You okay, darling?” His sweet voice, quiet and unassuming, is just what you needed to help make up your mind.

You’ll eat, but only a little. Not enough that your stomach will feel full and bloated, but enough that you can show Josh the gratitude he deserves for putting all of this together for Malachi and you. 

“Just fine, Josh,” you confirm with a genuine, sincere smile. “Thank you so much for all of this. I feel like I don’t deserve any of it.” 

He cloaks his arm around your shoulder, similarly to the way Malachi did just moments ago, melting a sense of comfort into your body. “You’re deserving of all of it and then some, my dear.” 

And with that, he leads you arm in arm to the kitchen, as though he could hear the burgeoning thoughts you were struggling with, knowing you needed someone to go with you. 

“Nat told me, by the way,” he says, handing you a plate as he begins filling his own with a few spider and rainbow rolls.

“Told you what?” You unknowingly ask as you scour the spread for the California. 

“That this is the first birthday party you’ve ever been thrown,” he admits through a warm, tender smile. “We really wanted to make this special for you, my brothers and I. And Natalia, of course. I certainly hope it’s met your expectations,” he winks, nudging you softly with his shoulder. 

“It’s beyond my expectations, Josh.” The words are a little choked, your throat becoming tightened due to the tears welling in your ducts. It does feel special. So special. The fact that they would go through so much, simply to make sure you felt included. After a lifetime of feeling utterly invisible, this whole thing is wildly new to you— new in the most wonderful way. 

The emotions are rising, though you’re able to swallow them down. But, Josh can tell it means a lot to you. He simply smiles, planting a sweet kiss to your temple as he finishes filling his plate.

“But, I must admit,” you begin, sniffing away the last of the tears that tried to form. “A giant ass sushi bar is a bit cliche, wouldn’t you say?”

“Ah, right you are,” he says. “This is not the meal fit for a queen, is it?”

You both break out in a fit of giggles together, and you’ve finally found the damned California rolls. 

“Ugh, don’t tell me you’re one of those people,” he scoffs, watching as you put a few on your plate. 

“What do you mean, one of those people?” You ask, chuckling. 

“Those who only eat that fake sushi,”  he jests. “If you can even call it that.” 

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The drinks have been flowing freely for the better half of the evening, lively chatter now filling the air after a few intense rounds of charades. 

Something you weren’t prepared for (though you absolutely should’ve been) was the sheer amount of competitiveness between the twins. And that was very apparent when they both got more than a little carried away during the last round, nearly getting physical with each other. 

But, things have since quieted down, and now it’s almost as if nothing had happened in the first place. They’re right back to joking around with each other, laughing almost as loud as they were yelling only moments ago. 

You're always left in sheer awe by the way these two can fight as though they wish the other dead, then seemingly forget about it a few minutes later when they’re completely back to normal. 

“How about a little game of never have I ever?” Josh questions. “I’m up for some revealing truths tonight,” he chuckles while positioning himself on Malachi’s lap, planting a kiss on his cheek.

“Only if you and Jake behave your-fucking-selves,” Danny answers, laughter sounding throughout the room at his quick wit. 

“We always do, Daniel,” Jake remarks, walking back into the living room with his freshly topped off drink. “Couldn't imagine what you’d be talking about,” he finishes, sarcastically.

He takes his seat in the Nova Lounge chair, while you’re nestled in the plush cushions in the corner of their sectional next to Danny and Natalia. The way Jake is sitting, he’s directly across from you, perfectly within your view and you in his. (This certainly feels familiar…)

He’s hardly spoken to you tonight, save for a quick peck to your cheek when you walked in and when he told you you’ll receive your gift from him on your actual birthday. (It’s pure torture to have to wait an entire week to know what he got you.)

You’re learning to not take his distance too personally when you’re around everyone, though it does sting a bit. At least Stacy isn’t here tonight to take up all of his attention like last time. (Thank god for that.)

“We’ll behave. Won’t we, Jacob?” Josh insists, lifting his glass in a dramatic ‘cheers’ to his twin, who does the very same thing. “So, who’s the brave soul willing to go first?” 

Everyone is exchanging glances around the room, waiting for someone to volunteer, and you breathe a sigh of relief when Sam offers to be the first one. 

But the relief suddenly dissipates when you and Jake make eye contact, and you can tell by the way he’s rubbing his chin with his pointer finger that he has something to say. 

“No, I believe y/n should go first,” he claims, his attention entirely on you by this point. “What do ya say? Up for the challenge?” He continues, a self-satisfied grin on his lips. 

You’re most definitely not too keen on going first but, you’re also not willing to make yourself look bad by turning him down. So, you’ll do it. Get it over with.

“Sure am,” you respond to Jake, mirroring the same smug look he’s wearing on his face. “Are we doing the classic put a finger down if you have, taking a drink instead?”

“Definitely taking a drink,” Sam says through one of his notable giggles. 

“Got it,” you say, switching your attention back to Jake as he stares your way. “And, um, just how personal are we getting with these prompts?” 

Jake nearly chokes on his drink after you ask your question, and while you manage to contain your laughter, Josh and Sam most definitely do not. 

“Whoa there, Jakey!” Josh exclaims, eyes wide and mocking as he brings his hand up to his mouth. “I thought you could handle your whiskey a little better than that!” 

“Yeah,” Sam joins in, hardly able to speak through his incessant chuckling. “Pretty sure you’re supposed to drink it, not inhale it.”

But even amidst his brother’s joking antics, Jake’s devilish eyes haven’t left you, and the only ones who seem to notice this (aside from you, of course) are Natalia and Danny. 

His brothers remain oblivious, and Jake doesn’t seem to care too much about them making fun of him, which is quite out of his character. Clearly, what you said has struck some kind of nerve within him. And you’re absolutely relishing in this power you’re holding. 

“Uh, as personal as you want, I guess,” Danny interjects, breaking the tension he and Nat are sensing and effectively lulling Jake from his silent glares.

“That’s right,” Jake continues Danny’s thought, flipping a middle finger at his brothers, but aside from that choosing to mostly ignore them. “You set the stage, doll.” 

Doll. 

Fuck. You can’t deny what that little pet name does to you. And he knows that. He’s doing it on purpose. He’s trying to regain his control over you, (doing a pretty good fucking job at it) but you have an idea of what you can do to get it back.

Two can play at that game, Jake. 

You won’t get too intimate, but just enough that it’ll force a reaction out of Jake.

“Okay,” you begin, pretending to be deep in thought about the first prompt, though you know just how to start this whole thing. “Never have I ever given someone a lot of hickies.” 

Keeping your eyes fixed on Jake, he winks at you as he takes a big drink. You don’t even bother looking around the room to watch anyone else take a sip, though you’re sure at least a few of them are. It may not be the most revealing prompt, although that wasn’t entirely your goal. You knew asking this would ignite a specific memory in Jake, and it appears it worked just how you intended.

“Ah, what a lovely start,” Josh inserts, unaware of the growing tension occurring between you and his twin. “Who’s nex–”

“My turn,” Jake interrupts, cutting his brother off. “Never have I ever received a lot of hickies.” The prompt flies out of his mouth seemingly without a second thought.

Touché, Jacob. Touché. 

You snicker to yourself while you make sure to take a sip of your drink. His eyes have become a little heavier, darker… like they were both nights he decorated your body with the very same hickies you’re referencing. 

And now, as the two of you have your eyes set on eachother, the rest of the room is finally catching on to whatever you have going on between you. You hear Josh clear his throat, attempting to move on from this (sexually) tense air you two have brought in the room. 

“Uh… next?” Josh hesitantly asks, exchanging a few confused looks with Sam. 

“I’ll go!” Nat offers after a bit of delicate silence in the room, bringing everyone’s attention back to the game. 

Well, almost everyone. 

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The night has finally begun to calm down, and Josh proposed the wonderful idea to prepare some hot chocolate and relax with a movie. This is his favorite way to end any night, and you couldn’t love that more about him.

As everyone knows, Josh is perpetually in charge of choosing the movie you’ll watch when he’s here, so no one says much of anything when he asks for requests. 

“Anyone in opposition to a little hair-raising thriller this lovely eve?” he asks, using the Roku to pan over to their shared Prime account. When no one voices any objections, he clicks through their purchased movies, stopping at The Shining. 

Being the Kubrick fan you’ve discovered him to be, you’re not shocked in the least. More often than not, movie nights at the Kiszka’s almost always result in a film under his direction.  

Not that you’ve felt the need to complain; you’re quite the fan yourself. And of this movie, especially.

“Ah! Splendid choice,” Sam shouts from the kitchen, pouring himself yet another glass of Camarena, choosing that instead of the hot cocoa you’ve all opted for. “This one should make y/n happy.” 

Oh fuck. 

Suddenly, a flood of anxiety ripples through you, tightening your lower stomach into hundreds of tiny knots when you realize what he’s referring to…

Sam knows about your tattoo. Your Shining tattoo. And Jake knows about your tattoo, as well.

But Jake doesn’t know that Sam knows. In fact, you’re the one who told him as much. You are the one who lied to him.

You're hoping to god that Jake, by the grace of the entire universe, didn’t hear what he said. And if he did, that he won’t put the pieces of this insane puzzle together.

But, given the instant flare of his nostrils and the sudden clench of his jaw, it’s all but confirmed. 

He heard. And his mind is going exactly where you were hoping it wouldn’t. 

“And what makes you say that, Sammy boy?” He asks with a stern, knowing tone. His body is facing Sam, but his eyes, hard and dark, are fixed on you. His glaring stare is piercing through your being, and it is not a happy one.

“This has got to be one of y/n’s favorite movies,” Sam proclaims, the alcohol in his system keeping him from reading the tense, irate tone in Jake’s voice. (Or, maybe he’s just used to it by now, doesn’t think to bat an eye at it anymore.)

“Uh huh,” Jake huffs, keeping his eyes on you while running his tongue angrily over his bottom lip. “Am I to presume that’s what she told you?” 

He knows. He fucking knows.

“Well, not exactly,” Sam answers, his features encompassed in his innocent smile, taking a big swig of the honey toned liquid in his glass and spitting out the ice cube that passes his lips. 

You’re almost sure Jake can hear the erratic beat of your heart. You’re holding your breath, keeping it locked tight in your lungs, afraid that letting it go will result in Sam revealing your secret. 

But it’s not working. Not one bit.

Sam takes a breath as he begins to speak, and you’re mentally pleading with him to keep quiet, hoping that he’ll somehow hear the voice in your mind that’s begging him to not say it.

“She’s got that Redrum tattoo on her chest, so I assume that means she’s a pretty big fan. Am I right, y/n?”

Jesus Christ. 

Jake hasn’t stopped glaring at you, only becoming heavier in his vexed stare. His anger is very much evident by the change in his breathing, the sharp air inhaling and exhaling through his flexed nose. 

“No way!” Josh interjects, obviously blind at the sudden tension between you and his twin. “I would love to see it!”

“Don’t you dare,” Jake mutters through gritted teeth, silent enough that it’s hardly legible, but you heard it as it was only meant for your ears.

There’s no fucking way in hell that you’re about to show them all your biggest secret. It’s bad enough that Sam had to announce it the way he did, especially after you swore to Jake that no one, specifically Sam, knew about it. 

You’ve been horribly caught in your lie. A lie that you didn’t even mean to lie about; it just happened, as if you had no control over the response you gave him. You can’t be blamed. It was in the heat of a moment that you had waited for for so long. You didn’t want to risk fucking it all up.

If he were to ask you any other time, you wouldn’t have lied the way you did. It just felt like the right thing to say in that specific moment.

But you’ve a feeling the tattoo isn’t what Jake is thinking about; it’s the fact that he now probably thinks you lied about way more than just that. 

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“It’s not what you think, Jake.” The words fall from your mouth before you can even close his bedroom door behind you.

“Yeah?” He challenges, throwing his phone on his bed, but with such force that it bounces off the mattress completely and lands screen first against the floor. But that is very clearly the least of his worries right now, as it seems he didn’t even notice his phone taking a tumble. “Tell me what I’m fucking thinking, then. Since you know so well what’s going through my mind.” 

He’s not yelling. But you almost wish he was. 

The deep grovel in his voice is coming from a place of pure anger, perhaps even hurt?

God, you hope not.

“I didn’t sleep with him,” you insist, maintaining your innocence with your stern tone and eye contact. 

“Then explain how he knows.” He quickly paces across the room back toward his bed, kicking his phone out of his way. “And I would like to know why you felt the need to lie to me.”

“I didn’t mean to, I just…” How do you even begin to explain your thought process? That you wanted to fuck Sam to get to him? That the only reason his brother is privy of your tattoo is because you were willing to go to the ultimate length with him, all for the purpose of making Jake jealous? 

No. He can’t know about that. 

Although…

You hate to admit, but you’re kind of enjoying this jealous streak from him. How his cheeks have become flushed in a bright red, the way his nose is twitching, his hard and stern features that carry the weight of a man deprived… 

You didn’t sleep with Sam. You and Sam both know that. 

But Jake…

He thinks you did. 

And instead of tripping all over yourself in an attempt to tell him the pathetic story of what actually happened, you may as well keep him on this jealous leash for a bit longer. See how far you can take it, how far he’ll let you take it. 

Perhaps he’ll take his little envious, self loathing party out on you. 

He doesn’t own you. You’re nothing “exclusive.” What you choose to do (or not to do) with your body is none of his fucking business. He isn’t allowed a say. And his pissy fucking attitude is absolutely unwarranted. 

But however unwarranted, you can’t deny what his angry demeanor does to you… 

It turns you on in ways you can’t explain. His body language is always sexy to you. But when he’s mad…

“He just saw it. Simple as that,” you spout, keeping your tone cold and composed, your arms crossed tight over your chest. “The night of the spookhou—sorry, haunted house, before you had to take me home. Sam just wasn’t in any condition to drive that night, that’s why you had to.” 

It’s not a lie. 

But perhaps what it implies is. There are a few tiny details you’ve purposely opted to leave out, a few you’ve chosen to embellish…but you’re not lying. 

“That so?” You can see the gears turning in his mind as he’s staring blankly at his bed in front of him, keeping his arms closely held against his sides. “Care to tell me how he saw it?” He continues, looking back over to you as you’re still standing near the closed door. “And you have yet to tell me why you fucking lied to me about it.”

With a shrug of your shoulders, you carefully contemplate your next words, knowing that what you’re planning to say could potentially set him off. (But in the best way.)

“Guess I didn’t see the need in telling you what really happened, you know, since I’m not yours to claim.” 

Even you tense up at your statement, and the way his body has suddenly stiffened tells you that your words did exactly what you intended them to do. 

True as it is, that you aren’t his, (although you desperately wish you were) you only said it to get even more of a rise out of him, to test him in brand new ways, see how far he’ll let you take it.

You’re not lying, so there’s no actual validity in his accusations, but fuck…the veins in his arms are making your pussy ache with pure fucking need for him. 

And his jealousy is clearly backed with a need for you, or else he wouldn’t give a fuck about Sam seeing your hidden ink.

“How do you think he saw it, Jacob? Seriously, I shouldn’t have to spell it out for you.” 

He aggressively pushes his hair out of his face, dampened with irate sweat, before glaring at you with a vexed expression. His eyes are almost as dark and heavy as they were that night, the first time his fingers made home inside of you. And fuck, the things it’s making you feel…for him to look at you like this again. Like the night in his Rover…

“Fuck you, y/n,” he spits through the beginings of a smirk that he’s attempting to hide.

You should be fucking pissed at the disgusting words he dares to speak to you, but the feelings they elicit throughout your being only cause your need for him to grow even stronger.  

He’s being an asshole. But all it’s doing is lighting the flames of your desire ten fucking fold. 

You’ve come to learn that the shit that comes out of his mouth, the rude shit he says to you, comes from a place of pure lust, of absolute need.

You can see it in his eyes— the way he’s breathing through his nose, the very obvious tension in his body that clearly needs relief in some way. 

And it’s as though he’s not even trying to hide it. His body is speaking the words his mouth refuses to. You can tell by the way his eyes scan over your body, and how he tucks his bottom lip between his teeth each time he does. 

There’s a chance he’s in need of it as badly as you are. It’s built up inside of him; it’s been built up. 

The way he talks to you, it just…

It doesn’t piss you off the way it used to, doesn’t make you feel worthless anymore. 

It does something different to you now. After that night with him, after filming when he got so upset over your scene with Sam, it changed everything for you. 

Now, when he’s angry like this, you know there’s something different behind it.

So, the only thing you can confidently think of to respond…

“Fuck me? Seriously, Jake?” You assert, crossing your arms across your chest, pushing your breasts up in the process. His eyes follow. You take a few steps towards him, the room silent as your next words leave your lips. “I wish you fucking would.” 

You’re not sure where this rush of confidence came from, or what it is about Jake that brings it out of you. But you really love this version of yourself, and it seems that he enjoys it, too. 

The look on his face is one that you’ll keep burned in your memory for as long as you live. The heaviness encompassing his eyes, the kind that is derived from a deep, animalistic desire, and the complete shock mixed with eagerness present in his features at your brash statement.

You opt to remain silent, standing resolute before him, unwavering and silently daring him to accept your challenge.

And when a smug grin teases the surface of your lips, he can’t help but mirror the same expression. But, his smile is fleeting, only lasting long enough for you to see the adoration he carries for you beneath his gruff sur. 

“On the bed,” he demands, snapping his pointer finger toward the black, satin covered mattress. Your knees become weakened at his command, at the way his arm flexes as he gestures to the bed. And all you desire is to obey his every order but, what’s the fun in giving in right away? You’ve tested him thus far, single handedly forced him to vocalize his need for you. Who says you can’t test him a smidge further? You want him nice and (very) worked up. 

You stop yourself from fully submitting yourself (as bad as you desperately want to. God, the things he makes you feel), choosing to keep yourself in a firm stance, arms still crossed over your chest, being sure your boobs are peaking above your arms. 

He’s most definitely privy to your (very much fake) resistance, and just as you knew it would, it’s only provoking him further. 

Yet another knowing smirk splays across your lips as he does the same, knowing exactly what you’re doing. 

“I said on the bed,” he gestures once more to the bed, keeping his haughty eyes on your now incessantly trembling body. “Now.” 

As much as you’d like to keep this little game going, you can’t deny it any longer. Your body is beginning to betray your facade, and you just can’t keep looking at him and not feel the unmeasurable urge to let him ravish you the way you’ve needed for a long ass fucking time now. 

With an almost embarrassing speed, your body falling apart at the deep whispered rasp in his voice, you at last give into his delicious order. 

He watches in satisfaction as you practically throw yourself against the mattress, laying your body down in a way that shows off your curves that you’ve always hated, but somehow you’re finding the urge to display yourself before him. 

And you can tell he fucking loves it.

“Lying is punishable, don’t you agree?” He saunters toward the bed, slow and purposful steps in your direction as your heart begins pounding inside your chest. “But punishable to what extent is the question, I suppose.” 

“Very punishable,” you confirm, gripping your breast and letting your legs slowly fall open. “And I think the extent is up to your discretion, sir.” 

There’s something new in his eyes, something dark and hungry. He comes to the edge of the bed, grabbing hold of you by the ankles and roughly pulling you closer so that your legs are dangling off the mattress. “You just might regret that, little doll.” 

He runs his hands up your legs, squeezing your thighs, trailing up them until they find the button fly of your jeans. He undoes the button then the zipper, taking his time, then pulling them off of you at a speed that you nearly can’t comprehend. 

Throwing them somewhere across the room, he sits next to you, feet planted on the floor. “Come here,” he says, patting his thighs. 

The pulsing need in your cunt, along with the sexy, demanding tone he’s using against you has you moving to straddle him without hesitation. 

“Nope.” He takes your arm, stopping you before you can get settled.“I want you over my knee.”

He snickers at you when you suck in a sharp breath at his demand, fighting against the urge to completely submit to him. You have to find it in you to keep testing him, because you’ve loved where it’s gotten you thus far. Pushing your limits with him…it’ll only get you exactly what you most desire. 

So, as much as you want to position yourself over him right away, you chose to stall a little. And when you see the dark glisten in his eyes, you know your little scheme is working out just as you intended. 

“What’s the wait, my pretty doll?” His thumb and index grab hold of your chin, pulling your lips closer to his only to tease you with the promise of a kiss. “Can’t take a little reprimand?”

“I can take it,” you retort, chasing his lips only for him to back away completely, his eyes suddenly not so dark and heavy.

“I want to establish something first,” he starts, taking the ends of your hair laying over your shoulder, twisting them between his fingers. There’s a bit of a change in his deameanor, something softer. Almost as though he’s removed the mask he’s been wearing since you stepped foot in his bedroom. “I need to be sure you’re okay with everything. If at any point it’s too much, you must tell me, okay?” You nod your head as he lets go of your hair, brushing his knuckles along your arm. “I’ll ask you for your color. Green means keep going, red means stop. Use yellow if we need to slow down. I need your word that you’ll do this for me, doll. I don’t want you to be uncomfort-”

“I promise, Jake,” you interject, reaching for his hand and holding it tightly in yours. Your heart swells at his sentiment, though you know that he could never truly hurt you or put you in any position that you wouldn’t like. 

He smiles at you, warming your spirit. But then, as quickly as his disposition softened, the mask is back on and his eyes are craving something darker once again. “You promise, who?” He asks, cupping his hand over his ear, awaiting the correct way you’re meant to address him. 

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now. As you were, my doll.” He pats his legs again, and this time, you can’t find the strength to wait any longer for your punishment.

You lean down diagonally over his thighs, holding yourself up on your elbows and knees, ass held high in the air. 

“These are pretty,” he hums, smoothing his palm gently over your ass still clothed in your cheeky, sheer black panties. “I’ll sure miss them.”

“What do you me–” Before you can finish, he’s easily ripped them clean down the middle, leaving the pathetic reminemts on your body as most of your ass is now fully exposed. 

“You told me it was up to my discretion.” His palm gently collides with the uncovered surface of your ass, rubbing soft circles where it landed. “I just hope you know what lies ahead,” he whispers, leaning down so his lips brush against the shell of your ear. 

“I’m ready to find out, sir.”

You turn your head to look at him, seeing the satisfied smirk along his plump, pink lips. “There’s a tradition for birthdays, and I know it’s not quite yours just yet, but…” He lifts his hand, cracking down on your ass with a bit more force this time, jolting your forward. “I think you’re more than deserving of a little early, celebratory custom.” 

You do your best to suppress your grin, biting your lower lip to hide just how much you truly love this. But, you’re not surpised in the least when Jake catches on. “I don’t think you’re supossed to enjoy your punishment,” he jests with a devious smile. “Should’ve known better with you, doll.” 

He pulls his hand back once again as you brace yourself for another. But he waits an excruciatingly long period of time, building anticipation, making you squirm as his hand hovers over you. “Just when I think you can’t get any prettier…” 

He slaps your ass much harder this time, the sting left from his palm radiating throughout your entire body. “Color?” He asks, soothing where his hand landed. 

“Green, sir.” Your voice is shaky, but full of pure need. “Please, more.” 

“My naughty doll,” he sneers, lifting his hand to give you another. “Count them.”

You confirm that you understand, and after you suck in a sharp breath in eager suspense, his hand slaps your cheek again, just as piercing and deliberate as the last time. His other hand gathers your hair to hold in a tight ponytail, holding your head up in his steadfast clutch. 

“One…two…three…” 

He switches back and forth, slapping the left, then the right, yet still being intentional in soothing the tender flesh after each one to ensure you’re okay. 

“Four…five…six…”

He stops, delicately rubbing where your skin is sure to be bright red. “Color?”

“Gr-green, sir, green,” you stammer, arching your back the best you can to be on display for him. “I-I think I need a few more, just to be fair.” You turn over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of him once again, to see his reaction to your near desperation for him to have his way.

“So filthy, doll.” 

“Seven…”

“You really shouldn’t like this as much as you do.” 

“Eight…”

You can feel your arousal dripping down your thighs as he keeps going, getting to ten before he decides you’ve had enough. (Though you know you can handle more, you’re ready for whatever else he’s going to give you.) 

“Do you think you’ve learned your lesson?” He inquires, cocky, rubbing his hand over the sore skin. “Because the pretty pink color on your ass would certainly say you have.” His fingers then graze over your dripping pussy, causing you to tremble and whine beneath his light touch. You hear him tsk when he runs his hand along your inner thigh, feeling exactly how much you enjoyed his discipline. “You are a needy little thing, aren’t you?” 

With a slow, torturous glide, his middle finger enters you. His grip on your hair from his other hand moves to the back of your neck, holding you still as he thrusts his digit slowly, in and out. 

“F-fuck,” you sigh. 

It’s such a deliciuous, yet tortorous feeling when he stops, though he only stops long enough to add his ring finger alongside. Without much warning, he begins quickly pumping them in and out of you, the upward position of his hand allowing him to reach the very place that craves him. 

The hand holding your neck briskly moves to cover your mouth, as the sounds you're making are most definitely far too loud given there’s still a living room full of people just feet away. While you’re sure the music Josh is playing is enough to drown out most of the lewd sounds coming from behind Jake's door, you’re certain the wails coming from you would penetrate the volume in an instant if he wasn’t helping to muffle you. 

But just as you’re beginning to feel the onset of your relief, Jake stops, pulling out his fingers and slapping your ass so much harder than anytime before. 

“Jake!” You shriek, not from the sting, but from the absence of him inside of you. “No! Why the fuck did yo–” 

“Watch your mouth. You can wait,” he says, sharply. “You’ll get what you want. You always do.” 

He helps you up to sit on the edge of the bed, ripping off the rest of your tattered panties while he moves to stand in front of you. “And right now,” he utters, bending down so that he’s eye level with you, grabbing hold of your chin and swiping the pad of his thumb over your lips. “I have a better use for this back-talking mouth.” He pushes his thumb past your lips, sticking it in as far as he can as you make a show of sucking on it. When he pulls it out, dragging your lower lip, he replaces it with his tongue before deeply kissing you.

He leans back up to begin unbuttoning his dark gray linen pants, but you’re becoming frustrated with how slow he’s doing so. And judging by the pompous look on his face, he’s doing it on purpose.

Cheeky fucker. 

“Jesus,” you scoff, reaching out to help him finish the damn job. “Just let me do it.”

He moves his hands, holding them palm up at shoulder length as he allows you to take over. “My, my. Rather zealous, are we?” He clicks his tongue, his voice deep and gruff. “Don’t get used to this upper hand, doll.” 

You roll your eyes while you finish what he so obviously wanted you to finish, letting the linen material fall to his ankles. You scoot yourself up to the very edge of the bed, grabbing him by the hips and pulling him even closer to you. 

He accused you of being over zealous, and as much as you’d like to tease the fuck out of him right now in the same ways he did you, he’s absolutely correct. There’s no sense in waiting to give him what he wants, what you want. The way he’s straining so hard against the tight fabric of his black boxer briefs…your mouth is nearly watering at what lies beneath the thin material. 

You dip your fingers in the waistband and pull them down in one single, brisk motion. And though you recall his size from the night in his Range Rover, you’re still in utter disbelief. 

“Open for me,” he orders, dragging your lip down again with his thumb. “Remember your colors,” he says, teasing the tip against your tongue. “I’ll keep asking you, but if you can’t speak, pat my thighs.”

You nod your head, reaching up to take his length in your hand, but he smacks it away. “No, my doll. Only your mouth, just like last time,” he quietly utters, slipping himself in as far as he can until he’s pushing gently against the back of your throat as you softly gag. “What’s your color?” He questions, slowly pulling out all the way so that you can answer him. 

“Green, sir.” 

Looking down at you, those heavy, whiskey colored eyes staring into yours, he smiles sweetly before pulling your hair back. “Good.” Without him even having to ask, you eagerly open your mouth for him again. With an amused smirk, he thrusts himself back inside. He’s going slow, letting you taste him while you can feel every pulsing vein gliding on your tongue. 

He pulls away again, then begins thrusting in and out at a much quicker pace, stimulating your gag reflex each time he reaches the back of your throat. 

“Color?” He asks, pulling out quickly so that you can speak. 

“Green, green,” you hurriedly answer, wiping away the string of spit falling from your lips. “Please, keep going.” You hold your mouth open for him, looking up to him with pleading eyes. 

“Needy and greedy,” he sneers, holding your hair back even tighter as he slips back inside your mouth. “I like this version of you, doll.”

He fucks your mouth at a fierce pace, holding your head in place while he does so. “Keep looking at me with those pretty eyes, baby,” he tells you, slowing a bit to allow you to catch your breath. “Get it nice and wet, okay?”

He keeps going, and fuck, as hard as it is to keep your eyes open, you don’t want to miss the way he looks above you. His knitted eyebrows, the little praises he’s mouthing, how his eyes will close only for a moment out of pure pleasure before he looks back down at you. 

You feel him twitch inside of your mouth, pulsing and begging to be relieved. “F-fuck,” he stammers, pulling himself away from you before he lets himself finish. “Color?” He asks again, winded, sweat forming at his hairline.

It takes you a moment to catch your breath as you wipe away the saliva sticking to your face. “Green.”

His fucked out state, his half-closed, lidded eyes as he’s struggling to regain his composure… Jesus. It has to be one of the most stunning visions you’ve ever seen. He’s so fucking sexy all the time, but see him like this is your favorite look on him so far. As if your need for him wasn’t already deeply profound enough, it’s only increasing by the second. “Jake,” you mutter, lifting yourself up on your knees on the mattress, beckoning him closer to you. “Please, please fuck me. Don’t make me wai—“

“Hush,” he interrupts, leaving you to sit himself on the bed against the headboard. “Get over here, doll.” 

You decide to crawl yourself across the bed, making a slow show of it with your ass high up in the air. He’s layed out before you, one arm behind his head while the hand of the other is slowly stroking his hard cock, glistening wet from your mouth. “Gorgeous, doll.” He reaches for you as you get closer, pulling you on top so that you’re straddling his lap. The way he’s placed you has your clit catching the shaft of his cock, so warm and sturdy against you. It’s clear he’s intentional about his placement, not letting you have it all just yet, only the tiniest taste. 

Your eyes roll while you sigh at the sensation, wanting more than anything for him to be inside of you. His name leaves your mouth in a faint whisper, to which he only smirks as he reaches behind you to unlace the corset you're still wearing. “This is so lovely on you,” he mutters, pulling it off of you and mindlessly tossing it out of sight. His hands immediately grab both of your breasts, his thumbs grazing lightly over each perked nipple. “But I can’t stand not having my hands on these.” 

You can’t keep your body from grinding against him, chasing the feeling of him against your pulsing clit while he’s tweaking and pinching at your nipples. He tangles a hand in your hair, pulling you closer into him as his mouth reaches for your neck. You throw your head back, leaving the skin exposed for him as he licks and sucks hard, undoubtedly leaving behind the traces of him once again.  

“Mark me, sir,” you utter in a low voice, grinding harder and harder against him. “Mark me so everyone knows who I belong to.” 

“Yeah?” He hums into you, sucking on one spot rather fiercely, practically biting the skin before leaning back to marvel at his work. He lazily grins before licking from the base of your neck, along your jawline, stopping at your parted lips. “Sweet girl,” he whispers, kissing your mouth deeply. “Little doll needs everyone to know who owns her.”

“Sir, please,” you plead with him yet again. You’re feeling so frustrated, so desperate for him to fill you that you just don’t care how pathetic you sound at this point. “Please fuck me-“

“You want it so bad, huh?” He asks, his interruption a familiar, patronizing tone. “Show me, then.” He wraps his arms all the way around you, taking a fistful of your hair in one hand.  “Ride me.” 

Fucking hell, Jacob.

“Y-yes, s-ir,” you pathetically whisper, your trembling body and pure need for him making it difficult to form proper words.

He helps lift you up on your knees, just enough so that he can line himself up with your soaking entrance. “Look at me,” he says as you begin to lower yourself, gasping as you start to sink down, already feeling the stinging stretch from just the tip. “Go slow, doll. Take your time.” He takes hold of your face with both hands, keeping his eyes locked tight with yours as the two of you finally connect in the ways you’ve been craving since the first time your eyes caught sight of him. “There you go, doll. There you go. All the way down for me.” 

A myriad of choked whimpers fall from your lips when he’s finally inside of you, filling you, your walls cleaning and fluttering around him. After needing just a moment to adjust to him, you begin following his orders, carefully rolling and circling your hips, showing him just how badly you’ve needed this. 

It isn’t long before you find the perfect momentum, the most delicious pace that has him reaching so deep inside of you. Your body is shivering and vibrating, your skin heated with a fire that can only be lit by Jake. 

You feel him absolutely everywhere. 

“Fuck, y/n…goddamnit.” He grits his teeth, his cheeks flushed and hot.“You feel even better than I imagined.” He moves his hands to your hips, gripping them tight and helping you fuck yourself against him. Your pace quickens, your body instinctively moving in perfect rhythm with his as you let his hands guide you just where he needs you. 

“This,” he says, licking his thumb and swiping a slick line over your tattoo. “Is for my eyes only from now on. Got it?” He pulls your head back, leaning down to lick along the ink, gliding his tongue slowly along the curve of your breast. His lips pull at your nipple, tenderly kissing the sensitive bud. 

“Yes, sir,” you moan through a hitched breath. “Only you.” 

“Faster, doll. Harder,” he grunts, leading your bodies into a brutal pace. “Fuck me like you mean it, like you’ve waited so long to do.” He reaches around to slap you ass, then slapping and grabbing your breast with the same hand. “Show me just how fucking needy you are.”

He brings his index finger up to your mouth, pushing past your lips and onto your tongue as you suck on it. He then pulls it from you, reaching between your bodies and circling his wet finger around your clit. “Right there, sir…r-right there–” Your voice is stifled by his other hand covering your mouth, hushing your cries as your relief at last overtakes you. 

“All over my cock, doll. Just like that,” he mumbles, helping you slow your body still while you feel yourself making a mess on top of him. Your body jolts and shakes with each flutter of your pussy around him— it’s all the more heightened with him tucked inside of you as you reach utter bliss. 

He waits a moment to be sure you’re ready before carefully helping you up, the both of you hissing at the loss of contact when he lifts you off his cock. But, it’s a loss you won’t have to suffer for much longer. “On your knees, doll.” Though his voice is demanding, he’s still very intentional about helping you down to the floor, tenderly caressing your skin with every touch as he leads you where he wants. “Gonna let me cum in your sweet mouth?”

“Yes, sir,” you say, eagerly waiting for him to give you a taste. 

“So good for me.” He thrusts himself in your open and waiting mouth, but instead of taking it slow as he did before, he picks up to a quick pace almost immediately. He grips your hair, holding it back for you as you obey his no hands rule, letting him fuck himself into you as he pleases. He tastes like him, but mixed with you this time.

Just like earlier, he begins to twitch and pulse against your tongue, that look once again appearing on his features as he’s reaching his end. “God,” he mumbles. “Perfect cunt, perfect mou—fuck.” He begins to crumble when you gag around him, pulling back just a bit before you feel his warm release coating and sliding down your throat. “Take it for me, doll,” he gently commands, holding himself in your mouth until he’s given you all he’s got as you graciously recieve every drop. He’s caressing your face, giving your praise after praise for being such a good girl for him. 

When he pulls out, you hold out your tongue to show him that you’ve taken it all, just as he said. “You’re too fucking good for me,” he commends, bending down to help you up and on to the bed. He lays down beside you on his back, reaching for you and pulling you on top of him. 

Your hearts are racing in near perfect time with each other, your deep breaths in unison as you each bask in the embrace of your sweaty, heaving bodies. 

He’s holding you so tight, as though you’d somehow try and get away if he let go. Of course, that is the very last thing you’d want to do. If you could stay like this forever, the two of you laying stark naked in the soft embrace of the other, you would.

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

a/n: ...thoughts? 🫣 i know- that was a lot. & we still have the next half of this chapter to go. there's so much yet to come. this is just the very beginning. i fear there's much more in store.

if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters, follow this link or let me know & i'll be sure to add you. ☺️ (let me know if i've missed you)

sending all my love!

National Alliance for Eating Disorders. Please reach out if you're struggling. You're worth it. 🤍

taglist:

@jakeyt @alwaysonthemend @sacredjake @jakesgrapejuice @misshunnybee @reesetrippingthelight @way-to-go-lad @sinarainbows @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @klarxtr @watchingover-hypegirl @brinlygvf @stardustjake @gretavanbear @gvfmelbourne @devilat-thedoor @literal-dead-leaf @gvf-ficreads @jaaakeeey @capturethechaos @neptune2324 @jaketlove @thetroublegetssoloud71 @myleftsock @sanguinebats @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @joshskittytickler @violet-hayes @aflameforgoinghome @heckingfrick @fitalich @starshine-gvf @audgeppp @jakekiszkasbuttsweat t @ninas-tearsofrain @torniturntomyarrow @beautifulcrayola @writingcold @welllauragvf @loveisonaroll @itsafullmoon @gretasfallingsky @i-love-gvf @kiszkas-canvas @mackalah @gvfmarge @sarafrusciante2 @jordie-gvf @gretavansara a @highway-tuna @vikingsisthenewsexy @louiseecraigg @hippievanfleet @citylight-delight @blacksoul27

[funshinebf]

this is p much all a traumadump/rant about my mental hospital trip idk. warnings for shitty mental health care practices, as well as discussions of things like intrusive thoughts, suicidal ideation, transphobia, and misogyny. we stay silly, u kno how it is

i think my experience with being admitted to a mental hospital like. really really radicalized me when it comes to the mental health systems and knowledge and care here. and how fucking bad and ignorant and dangerous it is for those of us with mental illnesses and disorders. and like. maybe it does help some people! sure! thats great, im happy they can get help from somewhere! but like. for me, being a trans kid with an unsupportive parent as well as unsupportive peers, with debilitating mental illnesses that werent *just* being a little sad about something in school, things that affected every single waking moment of my life and caused me to struggle in sooo many areas that others around me didnt struggle with. i didnt need to draw fucking pictures of houses and learn about meditating or mindfulness in group therapy, sat next to guys who kept misgendering me, and getting served meals i physically could not eat because of my severe disordered picky eating. not to mention no matter how many times i told the food people to please stop deadnaming me to the whole room when they would bring meals, i felt so fucking isolated and ignored there. and the one time i did actually try to share my thoughts during group therapy, i was immediately shot down and dismissed with a response that i still didnt understand. (we were being told to think about our thoughts being who we are. i brought up struggling with intrusive thoughts, and that seeing 'my thoughts as who i am' was fucking terrifying to me, because i had SO many horrible, disgusting, gut wrenching thoughts plaguing me every day, and i so desperately didnt want to be told that those thoughts were Who I Am. i was a kid. i was a scared kid and they told me i just didnt understand what they were trying to say, and that they didnt mean bad thoughts. they also clearly had no fucking clue what intrusive thoughts even were, and made me feel like i was insane for having any kind of violent thoughts. i was very clearly uncomfortable but they continued to ask me to elaborate on what *kind* of scary thoughts i was having. it felt like a trap. i didnt feel safe at all. i felt like if i shared the kinds of intrusive thoughts i struggled with, then they would treat me like i was dangerous for having them, or like i *wanted* to do those things. meanwhile those thoughts made me want to vomit, they made me avoid my loved ones out of fear of acting on the thoughts, they made feel like it would be better if i was dead, because then the people around me would be safe. i was a scared fucking kid)

all of this is to say. the mental health care in america is so fucking abysmal. even just. keeping people who's jobs ARE SPECIFICALLY TO CARE FOR MENTALLY ILL PEOPLE well informed on mental illnesses is apparently too fucking much to ask. i dont feel like im expecting something impossible when i go into a psychiatrist's office thinking that theyll help me, and not. i dunno, tell me i should fucking smile more (this did happen to me. first fucking appointment. older male doctor, 15 year old me getting treatment for SEVERE DEPRESSION.)

anyways. ive ranted enough for now, its nearly 3 am and i need to go read my stories to calm down. (im so mad. i need to go home and touch my husband's tits so i wont be as mad.)

[h0ney-mochi]

honey hiii <33 i remember you mentioned not being so well so i hope you’re alright now?? or at least i hope it got a bit better <33

i’m in school again.. ugh i CAN’T believe my holidays are already gooone :(((( *whining*

i must admit i expected a bit worse though. (i had already bought anxiety pills). things aren’t THAT bad. math is still complicated for me and a bit boring tbh, but psychology is fun as always even if it takes lots of work and effort but it’s worth it tbh. i still do tense up whenever school is mentioned though..

to get stuff off my mind, whenever i’m not studying or hanging out with friends, i’m drawing or writing which i love SO MUCH. like, i finally feel like i’m being a tiny bit productive somehow?? also i’m going back to my bookclub today, i can’t wait to see my friends there <33 i missed them so much man. a shame we only see each other at the bookclub cuz i really like them a lot. there’s this boy who’s one year younger than me and we have this kinda playful rivalry i’d say, like we always tease each other and call each other names and stuff and idk i love it. oh and of course there’s this girl jkdhsjs <333 we used to talk about manga after the bookclub, she usually asked me to spoil tpn for her cuz she liked spoilers. can’t wait to see her again <3

also i’m trying to learn how to play the guitar. i can play the piano, kinda, but i really really want to play the guitar because.. idk it just feels like something that’d suit me and i like the idea of saying i’m a guitarist. also my friend (the one who came to sardinia with me this summer) can sing and she promised me she’d form a band with me as soon as i’d learn how to play the guitar :DD so i really gotta learn cuz that sounds AMAZING. i just gotta wait for that time of the day when my family isn’t here so i can practice without them hearing how bad i still am /hj

(my guitar is a classical guitar. i do have an electric guitar, my dad’s, actually, but my headphones don’t have a cable so i can’t connect them to the guitar jdhdhd)

i can’t afford actual lessons because i already have figure skating and those other things so adding a music teacher would be too much. ugh if only i had a real job this isn’t gonna stop me though!! amy macdonald learnt by herself through yt tutorials, and cavetown is self taught as well, so i guess i could try too! :)

still struggling with school though. i think my teachers’ expectations are the issue but i’m not gonna vent dw <33

yours

breaker anon~<3

Omg that sounds lovely!!! Guitar is a fancy instrument and I wish you luck with it! Just don't give up at the first mistakes you do :D I'm sure you'll do it. And ohhhh, the band. That'd be so cool!!!

Our school doesn't have fancy clubs like that, ughhhhhhhh... it sounds so fun! If you guys meet only once a month, then the wait is definitely worth it, each meeting can be something :)))

Yeah, holidays gone and school back is GRRRHHHHH sad, but it'll be alr! You can make more great memories here and there, plus education is needed, even if it's a pain in the ass lol. It's good to hear that things aren't going too bad - math is awful, yep, but what will you do? Good that you've got another thing that you enjoy — even if it can be difficult ^^

Yeah, I can understand. Others' expectations can be really pressuring. But it'll be okay, you just do what you can do- your best !

[howtostoppornaddiction]

HOW TO HANDLE REBOOT EMOTIONS AS A HIGH PERFORMER

“Hey J.K. I feel much more emotionally aware and in-tune after drawing some of the exercises in the program and meditating for years.

“How can I balance being more in tune with my feelings and cultivating awareness while going hard at work and working out?

“I feel like what I’ve been doing is letting go of negative emotions like sadness and fear, but sometimes it feels like I’m not able to work as hard because I’m too in touch with my feelings. Now I’m trying to develop positive feelings around working and working out with positive visualizations.

“What are the proper ways to be a beast while still being in touch with and aware of my feelings?”

A lot of guys in our programs are relatively successful men but are unaware of their emotions. They’ve tuned out so many of their emotions over their years of  looking on how to stop porn addiction and compulsive sexual behavior. They have almost no remorse. They become more narcissistic. They’re increasingly unable to empathize with their partners.

These men cannot connect with these feelings because they have become so out of touch with their emotions. Helping men develop an awareness of their emotions and learn to reconnect with them is a vital part of the Porn Reboot process. It tends to be rather challenging but is well worth the work in the end.

Do you relate to this at all?

This brother’s question is a good one. As some men become aware of their emotions, they have trouble being productive while remaining connected with this awareness. Feelings like fear, sadness, guilt, shame, and empathy are new and they’re not sure what to do with them. They can be so overwhelming after blocking them out for so long that they interfere with productivity.

How can you begin to handle your emotions while still maintaining your high-performance capabilities?

DON’T SUPPRESS EMOTIONS

When you feel these new feelings come up your instinct is to push them back down. It’s your go-to way of coping after stuffing your feelings for years. Too many men suppress their emotions, though, and it’s a very unhealthy thing to do. Learning to change this, though, requires ongoing, dedicated practice.

It may feel difficult to sit with these emotions while remaining productive during the day but you’ll learn to do it over time. You must learn to be comfortable enough with any sort of emotion while still meeting your daily responsibilities.

ALLOW YOURSELF TO TAKE BREAKS

High-performing men who struggle with feeling their emotions tend to fire on all cylinders at all times. They work long hours week after week, leaving little time for themselves or their families. Doing this is a guaranteed way to continue the cycle of your compulsive sexual behavior.

Everyone needs time to rest and rejuvenate. If all you do is work yourself into the ground every day, pressure builds up and you need to find some sort of release. Until you learn to control your behavior, you tend to find that relief by acting out in your out-of-control behavior. 

Allow yourself to take breaks instead. Taking a break doesn’t mean you’re lazy and it doesn’t mean you’re neglecting your responsibilities. You need time to refresh and reset, and intentionally setting aside this time leaves you less likely to act out in your compulsive behavior.

YOUR EMOTIONS DON’T DICTATE YOUR DAY

As you start to feel these emotions, you may feel tempted to lean into some of them. For example, maybe you wake up one day and feel an incredible amount of anxiety about your workload that day. Don’t allow these feelings to dictate your day, though. You can feel these emotions while still accomplishing the things you need to do.

As you go through your day and handle your responsibilities, you’ll likely realize that these feelings of anxiety tend to dissipate. Oftentimes taking action counters any negative feelings that arise. It’s not always easy to move forward while holding space for those difficult emotions but the more you practice the easier it becomes.

TALK IT OUT

Reaching out to another brother in the porn addiction recovery program is one of the best ways to handle emotions as a high performer. Most men in the group are hardworking successful men who understand the difficulties that come with balancing emotions and responsibilities. If you’re having a hard time with this right now, I know you’ll find someone in the group who would be more than willing to talk with you about it.

Stop by the free Porn Reboot Facebook group to find someone to talk with. You’re never alone in any struggle you experience; there’s always another man who knows exactly what you’re going through. Come join us today, brother, and you’ll learn the skills needed to live a full, successful, happy, porn-free life.

[myaquariusheart]

15/4

"Today, the best way for you to help others is with a dose of honesty. They'll be grateful for your directness. You can bring out the outcome you want." We had a heated discussion with Mum in the front room just before everyone went to sleep. She wants to retire by 50 and wants us to all support her financially, which, I guess she deserves, she has been looking after us all these years but I just find it ridiculous to have little to no savings and want to retire. She was telling me how she wanted Bab to get a better job but constantly putting him down is not going to motivate him to do better. Knowing were struggling sometimes isn't enough when someone's self-esteem is down and I do know a lot about low self-esteem. I gave her the example of me and Z doing our theory once she stopped forcing us to do it and making us feel bad that we basically don't drive, we finally wanted to do it ourselves with our own inspiration and determination. I don't know who wrote the rules to be Bengali because I hate them honestly. You're all washed up and unwanted if you're a woman whos not married by 27. It's so backward and not fair. We're expected to be married so young and enjoy no freedom. I literally wish I could travel the world and do some things that I love and can do without feeling the guilt of leaving Mum and Dad behind but I guess that's my sad little life. I can of course try and find a really good paying job and save enough to start alone somewhere but I also do want to be loved by a man and be married one day, I guess at my own pace. It's difficult and hard but I guess that part of my journey can start when I finally pass my driving, otherwise, I'm going to have to rely on TFL to get to places. After graduation I need a week at least of nothingness, I want pure relaxation and to do nothing with myself. I'm going to buy myself some new alcohol markers and really practice and focus on drawing and creating some art, I haven't been able to do much of it but I want to make a nice collection again and discover my own personal art style because I don't have one. I've also lost all my old art but luckily I have some pictures. I'm still going to work at the cafe or I will go crazy but you know, no stress. I want to go on holiday to Italy but I have no one to go with (that I would even want to go with) so it's all a bit shit. Anyway, tomorrow is the last day before I go back to my normal routine of Uni and work. Kinda can't wait to go back and kinda can't be bothered too. It's nearly over, five years of a really stressful university journey and I'm proud of myself because I honestly didn't think I could do it. Today was really nice, we watched the Super Mario movie. It was super funny and we were all laughing lots. I loved the silliness and the lightness of the movie and I'm so happy Alv enjoyed it because she's not too familiar with Super Mario brothers. It brought back a lot of childhood memories of playing the DS games and Mario Kart. I loved it and would want to watch it again but somewhere cheaper. The adult ticket was like £16 and that is literally too much. We had the worst pizza hut experience ever, I think it's under new management and that man was a bit horrible and did not have good customer service. I ordered a meal deal for about £20 for one pizza about 11 inch, and then properly reading the menu I saw kids could get their own personal 9inch pizza, with a side, bottomless drink, AND A DESSERT? for £7 so I asked the guy for a refund and he was being arsey about it. On top of that when the guy served the pizza he dropped half of it on the table and we were just wishing we went to Burger King instead. I'm in bed now, gonna try and sleep in a bit. I managed to finish my philosophy essay yesterday but when I go in on Monday or Tuesday I need to re-read it and include some references. Tomorrow my to-do list consists of me collecting my laundry, getting some hair dye, and getting ready for the first day of Uni on Monday.

[baalzebufo]

finally got the hang of this guy :) ironed out my style and design for him. also wanted to draw some different emotions

you messed with the wrong bug

[winterchildd]

"My heart is split in half..."

Title: My heart is split in half...

Word Count: 1,663

Pairing: Kili x fem!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, tears, a little angry reader, sad reader and sad Kili, fluff, fluff, fluff, happy ending *w*

Request: Nop, I wrote this during my last influence to cheer me up a little, 'cause I was really in a bad mood, hopefully it will cheer you guys up too😚

Author's note: Don't have much to say about it to be honest, I just wanted it to be something simple, something sweet whit a little bit of angst and a lot of fluff to cheer up whoever needed it, plus Kili is the swetest of boys, we all deserve our little moment whit him 😗💕

Hope you guys will like it, and please always remember to take care of yourselves, your mental health matter as much as your physical health

Love you guys🌻

Masterlist

Y/N snorted throwing a disappointed look in Kili's direction, at the disgusted grimace that had taken place on his face as soon as he had swallowed the first bite of the stew she had prepared for dinner that evening, and that still, even though both had practically pretended to eat, made no sign of wanting to leave his lips. Absurd, she thought, looking at him grimly, she had spent the whole afternoon in the kitchen taking care of that stew, preparing it as he liked, following the recipe that Dìs had kindly passed her, she had taken care of every little detail, tasted constantly to be sure of the flavor, that she hadn't overdone the spices, and after all that effort she thought she deserved something more than a couple of tight smiles and grimaces full of disgust.

"Kili ..." she suddenly called him back, letting the spoon slip into her plate with an unnerved sigh, among what still remained of her meal, unable to bear that situation any longer

"I know I'm not the best cook in the world" she sighed again, finally drawing his attention to herself "That what I prepare for you has nothing to do with your mother's cooking, but this stew doesn't seem so terrible to me" she said nervously tasting another bite and throwing the spoon back into the bowl, this time badly "Not so much as to deserve that disgusted expression, not after all the time I wasted preparing it!" she spat angrily at him crossing her arms to her chest while as if to emphasize the anger that was boiling in her veins, she started rocking in her chair manteining balance with her heels.

"It's not the stew ..." Kili muttered with difficulty in a hoarse, almost dry voice, looking at her confused and a little incredulous, as if he didn't expect a similar reaction, not from her, not after the months in which, due to his work in the Blue Mountains, they had not been able to see each other, not when they were about to say goodbye again and for much longer "That's delicious, as always" he mumbled again, letting out a couple of coughs as he barely maneged to swallow up a sip of water "It's my throat" he resumed then massaging his neck with a grimace full of pain and discomfort "It hurts and…"

"And you struggle to swallow ...!" Y/N finished for him with wide eyes, inevitably feeling a fool for having yelled at him in that way and for such a stupid reason. Kili didn't answer her, at least not whit his voice, he just stretched his lips into a thin smile, nod his head and mimic a simple "I'm sorry" with his lips.

"No" Y/N replied immediately, waving her hands in front of her face in horror as she sat back down with embarrassment, with her hands placed on the table and her feet firmly planted on the ground "You don't have to apologize" she said getting up from her seat to reach him at the other side of the table

"I'm the one who has to apologize, I yelled at you for no reason" she continued "I wanted this dinner to be perfect, I wanted to welcome you with something special after all these weeks of distance, to make you feel at home before your leaving for Erebor, and the thought of having ruined everything has made me nervous, forgive me my love..." she added, looking down with embarrassment at the tip of her toes while with apprehension and a delicacy that, at that moment, to kili seemed from another world, she placed her hand on his forehead to check his temperature

"It doesn't matter" Kili replied, narrowing his eyes and letting out a sigh of relief as soon as Y/N's cool hand was on his forehead.

"You have a fever ..." Y/N mumbled with concern and surprise, throwing her hand away from his forehead, almost as if she had burned herself. A little annoyed, he wished he could have enjoied the pleasant coolness of her hand for a little longer, Kili let out a grunt.

"You need rest" Y/N told him, gently pulling away his hair from his sweaty forehead

"No" Kili mumbled in response, shaking his head "I don't feel like it" he added grabbing her hand and starting to absently fiddle with her fingers before leaving her a series of small kisses on the knuckles made rough by the years of work behind her. Y/N giggled shaking her head with feigned exasperation, softened and amused at the same time by the little pout that had curled his lips and that more than a fearsome dwarven warrior made him look like a capricious little child.

"You're sick" she told him "And in a couple of weeks you'll have to leave with your uncle for Erebor, if you don't take care of your cold now it will turn into something more serious, you risk to not being able to take part in the expedition" she pointed out then, passing with distraction and a sort of melancholy her hand in his hair, pausing for a few moments on the thin braid that dangled near his neck, identical to the one she too was hiding in her hair and which symbolized their story, the promise of a life together

"Erebor is your dream" she suddenly resumed, emerging from the trance in which she had fallen "It always has been" she said, decisively and melancholy intertwining her gaze with his "You can't put it at risk for such a stupid thing"

"I know ..." Kili sighed wile grabbing her softly by the waist, pulling her close to him "But at the moment my heart is split in half ..." he said, returning her gaze with lucid eyes, red and swollen with tears that were waiting for nothing but to streak his tanned face “I don't want to leave you…. Not for this long… ” he finally confessed to her with a strangled sob, sinking his face against her chest, holding her to him as if he didn't want to let her go. Struck by his words, with her heart thigt in a grip of pain mixed with despair and something similar, but much more melancholy than happiness, Y/N hugged him, kissing his head with affection while finally, just like him who had collapsed as soon as he had hided his face in the soft folds of her shirt, she allowed herself to shed all those tears she had forced herself to hold back in those days, in a desperate attempt to be strong and not let herself be devoured by despair.

What worried them, what anguished them so much, was not the thought of not being able to bear the distance that would separate them - both, for work, had always traveled a lot and for long periods - but the awareness that this time, unlike the others, they did not have the security that they could see each other again, that they could hug each other again and keep the promise that they had made to eachother. Erebor was a long way off, and the road to it was studded with dangers, dangers that no matter how skilled they might be in combat, none of Thorin's company was sure they could overcome. The thought of Smaug then, of his violence, of his wickedness, gave her chills, and yet, despite this, aware that those who were about to live could have been their last days together, as much as she really wanted to be selfish and begging him to stay safe next to her, Y/N did not feel like asking him to give up what had been his dream since childhood.

"I don't want you to leave ..." she suddenly said through tears, breaking the silence that had surrounded them with her own voice "I'm afraid that something could happen to you, I'm afraid of never seeing you again" she added moving away from him just enough to be able to look into his eyes, gently grasping his face in her hands "But I can't ask you to give up everything for me. You never did such thing whit me, you have always let me free to follow my heart" she continued, wiping the tears from under his eyes "I want to do the same for you, I want you to feel free to follow your heart, to fight for what you believe in" she finished, giving him a sad but equally sure smile.

"Thank you ..." Kili answered gently caressing her face "Thank you" he repeated again holding her close to him "Thank you for the freedom you leave me, for the understanding you show me and for your support" he said while his eyes turned lucid again for the emotion he was feeling "I'll come back" he resumed then looking at her with decision "I'll come back to you and we will get married, we will live the life we have always dreamed of and then there will be nothing to divide us" he promised, giving her a radiant smile full of hope.

"I believe you" Y/N replied smiling at him through her tears "I know you will come back to me" she added again drying her tears with the sleeve of her shirt, letting out a little tremulous laugh "But now come and rest" she continued happily kissing his forehead "You have to rest to recover, otherwise the disease will prevent you from leaving" she giggled, holding out her hands and beckoning him to follow her.

This time, unlike the previous one, Kili did not protest, he firmly grabbed her hands and, staggering a little, he allowed her to escort him to his room. He let Y/N help him settle under the blankets, let her place a cool cloth on his forehead and then, exhausted, lulled by the gentle sound of her heartbeat, he fell asleep.

[cosmicbrowniefan]

chemistry lessons

fandom/ship: stranger things, byler

summary: mike wheeler and will byers are friends. best friends. that occasionally get jealous when someone flirts with the other.

genre: one-shot, fluff, high school au

warnings: swearing, aged-up party (16-17), jealous mike, intentional lowercase

word count: 2,412

“you’re staring again.”

mike wheeler huffed and ripped his eyes away from the sickening sight in front of him- his best friend will byers sitting at a table in the library with some hot guy from the baseball team who couldn’t. stop. making. will. laugh.

lucas sinclair raised an eyebrow at mike.

“ever stop to think about why you care so much about who will hangs out with?” he asked flatly. lucas was tired. tired of mike’s bullshit. this pining had gone on for YEARS, yet the guy still remained as oblivious as he was on day one.

“i don’t need to stop and think about anything. i know that guy is an asshole. he’s just gonna end up hurting will or being a jerk or something,” mike insisted, trying to focus on the math problems on the homework in front of him, but stopping to sneak another glance. he glared as the guy scooted closer to will, making will blush.

“and what exactly tells you that?” lucas said, trying his best to pry it out of mike. “they’re literally just studying. just like you and me.”

“it’s not the same!” mike said, exasperated, putting his head down on the desk with a thud!

“really? it’s not?” lucas said, smirking slightly. “and why not?”

“neither of us are jerks!” mike exploded. lucas was being so frustrating. how couldn’t he see that this guy was bad news?

“neither is he!” lucas said. “name one thing he’s done to make you think that.”

“he- he just-” mike struggled for something to say to validate his claim, but he was drawing a blank.

“exactly,” lucas said, shaking his head. he leaned in closer. “mike, it’s what i’ve been telling you all along. you like w-”

“i do not!” mike exclaimed quickly. “we’re friends, lucas. best friends.”

“yeah, well, if dustin looked at me the way you look at will, i’d have to have a serious talk with him,” lucas said, making mike groan in annoyance.

“i don’t need this right now,” mike muttered, gathering his books into his bag and standing, leaving the library before lucas had a chance to say anything else.

he didn’t like will. he certainly wasn’t jealous. what was there to possibly be jealous of? the guy’s looks? muscles? the way he made will laugh? the fact that will had been spending so much time with him lately?

jealous. please.

mike stormed down the hallway, images of the guy leaning towards will replaying in his head. he couldn’t really explain why it upset him so badly. probably just because the guy was bad news. he didn’t want will getting caught up with someone like that. everyone knows jocks are bad news. besides, that guy is probably playing some kind of practical joke. will had been facing a lot of shit since he came out. mike wouldn’t put it past the guy to come up with some elaborate prank just to hurt him. all mike wanted to do was protect him. that’s a totally natural thing to feel as a friend. 

he didn’t need lucas or anyone else telling him that his feelings were anything other than what he knew they were.

***

will watched out of the corner of his eye as mike banged his head down on the library table. he looked upset.

mike had been acting off a lot lately, now that will thought about it. he just seemed so closed off and annoyed at all times. it made will sad. mike was not the best at communicating his feelings, so it was a bit of a waiting game until mike decided to say what was on his mind.

“what did you get for number 6?”

will turned his attention back to tyler, who was looking at his trig homework with confusion. tyler was a kid in will’s class that had been having some trouble with his work lately. due to will’s outstanding grades, will had been assigned the task of tutoring him. normally, a person like tyler wasn’t someone will would seek out as a friend, but he actually wasn’t that bad once you got to know him. he was a bit loud and annoying, like most jocks, but overall, he was pretty nice, especially one on one.

not to mention, he had been asking will advice on how to come out.

tyler was bi, and closeted. but he was kind of in love with his best friend of nine years, and wanted more than anything to ask him out. will, TOTALLY understanding the situation tyler was in, agreed to tutor him in all things lgbt as well as trigonometry. 

“um, sin of 60,” will said, peeling his eyes away mike and looking back at his paper. “is that what you got?”

tyler laughed. 

“no where close,” he said. “jesus, it’s been the same way the last five problems, hasn’t it? people must think we’re fucking comedians just because of how funny my far-off answers are.”

will laughed and nodded, pulling tyler’s paper towards him. he gave it a once-over and immediately saw tyler’s mistake.

“okay, i see what you did,” he said. “here, scoot closer.”

tyler moved his chair and fixed his attention entirely on the paper as will began to explain how to go step-by-step through the problem. oh. that made more sense than what he had been doing.

“that. that makes a lot of sense,” tyler said, shaking his head as he realized how simple the concept really was. “thanks, will. i really wouldn’t pass anything in this damn class without you, you know.”

will smiled and nodded. 

“of course,” he said. “and you’re getting it. your answers now are a lot closer than they were at the start of the semester, at least.”

tyler laughed. “that’s for sure.”

at that moment, there was a bang and a loud huff. tyler and will looked up to see mike slamming his book shut and standing up, gathering his things as he hurried out of the library. will furrowed his eyebrows as mike shut the door behind him.

“don’t you know him?” tyler asked. “is he okay?”

will sighed.

“yeah, i know him,” he replied. “and i don’t know, honestly. he’s been acting really off lately.”

“maybe he’s jealous of me,” tyler muttered so only will could hear. “you know, i’ve been spending a lot of time with you with all the tutoring stuff. he probably wishes he had more of your time himself.”

will snorted at the thought but couldn’t help going a little red.

“mike? jealous? yeah, right,” he said, shaking his head and turning back to the math problems. “there’s no way.”

tyler shrugged.

“i know i’m not as much of an expert on the gay world as you are, but i know the line between platonic and romantic relationships. and mike is the line.”

“he’s right, you know.”

will and tyler looked up to see lucas standing there. will blushed and rolled his eyes.

“he doesn’t like me, guys,” he insisted, looking between the two of them. “really. i’m sure something else is bothering him.”

“yeah, something called his crush spending time with another guy,” tyler said pointedly as lucas hummed and nodded in agreement.

will sighed and shut his book.

“that’s enough studying for today, i think,” he said, packing his things and standing up. 

“you gonna go after him?” lucas asked. “listen, i’ve done everything i can to lead him to the conclusion that he’s SO close to realizing himself. you gotta take it home here, will.”

“okay, i AM going to talk to him, but not in the way you think,” will said, making tyler and lucas roll their eyes and exchange judgmental glances.

“can’t say we didn’t try,” tyler said, raising his eyebrows and packing his own things up. 

will smirked and shook his head.

“sure,” he said. “thanks for everything, you two.”

will walked out of the library and down the hallway, pondering what he would say when he saw mike. just ask him what was wrong, he supposed. what else was there to say? hey mike, my friends are convinced you like me. what do you have to say to that? that didn’t seem like the best approach.

will hesitated when he reached the door of the av room. it was the only place mike would be, he was sure of it. after a moment, will reached up and knocked lightly on the door.

there was no response.

after a second, will knocked again, louder this time. there was a frustrated sigh from inside the room, then the door was yanked open. mike looked annoyed, but his expression softened slightly when he saw will. not by much, however.

“oh. hi,” he said.

“hi,” will said. “can i- can i come in?”

mike moved aside, letting will in and shutting the door behind him. will went over and leaned against the table, crossing his arms and raising his eyebrows at mike, who was standing awkwardly in the corner.

“what are you doing in here?” will asked, after a minute of silence. mike rolled his eyes.

“do i have to have a reason?” he said. when will gave him a pointed look, he continued. “i just wanted somewhere quiet to study.”

“really?” will said skeptically. “because your books are still in your bag. and the library was practically silent.”

mike deflated. 

“well-” he said, “maybe i wanted somewhere quiet to study where i didn’t have to watch you and your new arm candy flirt with each other constantly.”

will laughed, surprised. mike raised an eyebrow.

“i’m sorry, what?” will said, smiling. it was ridiculous. “are you talking about tyler?”

“if that’s the name of the asshole who’s been clinging to your side for two weeks, then yes,” said mike, crossing his arms.

“and what makes him an asshole?”

“will, he’s a jock,” mike said, exasperated. why did he have to explain this to will, of all people? he should understand that those people weren’t worth talking to. “all jocks suck ass, you know that.”

“well, he’s never been anything but nice to me.”

“that’s how they all start out!” mike exclaimed, unfolding his arms and moving closer to will. “you know that, come on.”

“why do you think i’ve been spending with him, mike?” will asked. he really wanted to hear this one.

“i don’t know,” mike huffed. “i’m sure you have your reasons. reasons that start with a “c” and end with a “rush”.”

“you think i have a crush on him?”

“i KNOW you have a crush on him.”

“mike, i’m tutoring him.”

mike’s face fell immediately. he turned red and started stuttering. will smirked.

“yeah, that’s right,” will said, “i’m tutoring him. and for your information, he doesn’t like me. like, at all. he’s been also asking advice about how to ask his crush out, so i know that for a fact.”

mike opened his mouth, then shut it again, burying his face in his hands and going to sit in the swivel chair that was sitting behind the table.

will dropped his crossed arms and headed over to mike, bending down and putting a hand on his knee.

“hey,” he said, “it’s okay. what was bothering you about him so much REALLY? i think you knew he wasn’t a jerk.”

mike didn’t look up.

“i think i was jealous,” he muttered.

will’s heart skipped a beat and his chest fluttered. he tried not to show the hopefulness on his face. 

“oh,” he said. “um, any reason why? just worried that i’m gonna, like, start playing dnd and mario kart with him? or what?”

mike opened his eyes and looked at will between the gaps in his fingers.

“worried that you’d start dating him.”

will couldn’t hide anything on his face this time. he turned red and his eyes went wide.

“um, wh- what?”

mike put his hands down and shook his head.

“i don’t know,” he sighed. “i- i was just jealous. and i thought i was just worried about him being an idiot to you, but that wasn’t it at all. i was jealous. jealous of the way you looked at him. and the way he made you laugh. and about how HE looks. because, let’s be honest, baseball guys are mad hot. i don’t care how much i hate them, i can’t deny that. i was just jealous because- well, because i- kinda- like you?”

will audibly gasped, then covered his mouth with his hand. THAT was embarrassing to let slip out. mike looked down at his hands and sighed, shaking his head.

“i know, it’s stupid,” he said. “listen, just ignore me, okay? i’m really sorry if i made anything awkward, i just-”

“mike.”

“i just felt like i couldn’t NOT say something, you know? after so long of having it bottled up-”

“mike.”

“and after finally figuring it all out, thanks to LUCAS of all people, who definitely knew it all along, by the way-”

“mike!”

mike stopped rambling and looked up, a blush creeping across his face when he saw how close will was to him. he cleared his throat nervously.

“y- yeah?”

“i like you too,” will whispered, smiling. 

mike’s eyes widened and he sat up quickly.

“wait, you do?” he asked. will laughed. 

“yeah, wasn’t it obvious?” he asked. mike shook his head.

“not obvious enough for me, at least.”

“you are pretty oblivious when it comes to this stuff,” will teased as mike smiled and looked at his lap. “but yeah. i like you.”

mike looked back up.

“please tell me that jealousy isn’t a relationship turn-off for you,” he said quietly, making will laugh.

“absolutely not,” he whispered. “you’re too adorable to ever let that be a turn-off.”

“good,” mike murmured. taking a breath, he reached out and grabbed will’s shirt by the collar, flicking his eyes to meet will’s for permission, then pulled the boy towards him, their lips clashing together.

will’s heart leapt into his throat. after a second of feeling mike’s perfect lips on his, they separated. will’s eyes stayed closed for a second, but then he opened them and smiled. 

“maybe i should tutor more guys if that’s all it takes to get you to kiss me,” he whispered, making mike smile and roll his eyes.

“i could use some tutoring,” mike said. will grinned.

“sure,” he said. “lesson one: let’s talk about chemistry.”

and with that, their lips smashed together again. 

[ingrid-said-no]

and then, just like clockwork

pairing: edward nashton x reader

summary: reader has had a crush on Eddie for a long time, but when they found out someones going on a blind date with him, they had to do something.

warnings: reader is a bit weird 😟 mentions of an allergic reaction

a/n: this is supposed to be a prequel to a fic I wrote called "what if i told you im a mastermind" inspired by the new Taylor Swift song, but then one day I woke up and decided that fanfic looked ugly as fuck and that I'm never posting it, so I'm posting this one instead even though I wrote that one first. (Also why the fuck did I start the fanfic like that HELP you'll see)

>

You had to shit so bad. But you also had to finish the pile of paperwork in 12 minutes. The ongoing internal debate of wether you should get up or not stopped when you realize you're already wasting that 12 minutes. A frustrated sigh escapes your lips as you grip both handles of your chair and struggle to push yourself out of it. You've been working for hours and your legs feel so numb.

The bathroom was a long walk, when you finally got there you were practically running to the toilet seat. You were zipping up your pants in the stall when a horde of clacking heels enter the bathroom.

"Come on Jan, promise me you'll go to that diner next week."

"I don't know.. are blind dates really that worth it?"

"No, but it still doesn't hurt to try. Plus, I heard the nashton guy is kinda cute so you'll be fine!"

You knew who they were talking about. He works in the station above yours, and you'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't find him attractive. There was something drawing you to him despite him not knowing you exist. You've always wanted to talk to him but could never muster up the courage, too nervous that you might stumble on your own words and mess things up. Now you realize that your chances could be taken away by anything, you knew you had to act fast.

Your hands quickly fixed your state and rushed out of the bathroom immediately. One, because you almost forgot about the work you had to finish in minutes. And two, because you had a scheme to strategize.

When you got home, you brewed a cup of coffee and immediately started planning. Now Jan, you work in the same office. She's been nice to you so far even if you didn't talk much, but it doesn't matter because you won't waste your chance with Eddie. Not again. You had to get rid of her, make sure she can't attend the blind date. How?

Whatever information about her you had in your brain, you dug for. You needed an advantage. Just to think clearly, you shut your eyes. And when you opened them, the answer was right in front of you.

Coffee. You were usually the person who gets asked to order coffee whenever you stand up from your desk, even when you aren't even gonna go outside. But you do what they tell you to anyway cause the smell of coffee is addictive, you couldn't pass down the opportunity to pass by the local coffee shop just down the street.

All of it fell naturally on your lap. Next time you bring her coffee, you could put something inside it to make sure she won't meet Eddie.

~

It was finally the day of the blind date. You had successfully gotten rid of Jan, and it was easy. She wasn't poisoned or anything. It was just an allergic reaction to cinnamon. You 'accidentally' got her order wrong and one suspected it because it's a common mistake. It was perfect.

Already had an idea of which diner they were meeting at, you waited for him there. You knew Eddie would never step out of his own comfort zone, you knew he would pick a diner that he's most familiar with because it was the safest, and because he likes the pie there.

There you were, waiting. So was he. It was sad to see him down like that, but it was for the better. Eddie knew he'd get stood up, it's impossible to think that someone would be interested in him. Not impossible for you though, you wanted to know him more, and this was your chance.

You had ordered him a pumpkin pie from another table, and now watching his reaction to the waiter handing him the plate. He looked around to see who could've bought it for him. When his eyes landed on yours, you felt this electricity run throughout. You gave him a small wave and an awkward smile, and in return he gave you his own little wave and awkward smile. This is it.

You weren't sure if you blacked out, because one second you were just waving at him, then suddenly you were sitting across from him. Hearing him laughing at your stories and stupid jokes. It was like a dream. You weren't sure if you deserved it, but for now you didn't care, because you finally have him.

[helliontherapscallion]

(Y/n) and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week: Monday

Tuesday     Wednesday     Thursday (Part 1)     Thursday (Part 2)     Friday     Saturday     Sunday

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Pairing: SBI x sister!reader (she/her pronouns)

Warnings: swearing, toxic friends, panic spirals/attacks, injury, taking pills for pain

Summary: you have a very bad week, how will you manage? (Characters are fully human, but based on their DSMP characters. High school AU)

Word count: 4,818

(A/N): I’ve never played volleyball or watched Haikyuu before, so I’m not 100% certain how games work. Also, I probs should’ve split this into two parts, but eh.

“(Y/n) love, you look homeless in that sweater, it’s literally so fucking ugly.”

“Haha, yeah it is. I guess I just wasn’t really trying today.”

Adrian snorted, scanning your body with his cold eyes. “Today? You don’t try at all. You always look like trash.”

“More than trash, you always look like you just rolled in dog shit.” Sammy threw her head back and cackled at her own joke.

Your friends around you erupted in laughter as you four walked down the hallways of the hell that was your public high school. You awkwardly chuckled alongside them, you didn’t really find it funny, but you didn’t want to draw more attention towards yourself. 

“Seriously, (y/n), I really don’t know why we still hang out around you anymore. You really let yourself go.”

“Yeah, now that I think about it, you did gain like five pounds in the past week.”

“Really not a good look on you, love. Then again, nothing you do can make you look good anymore.”

You tried to not let their comments get to you, you really did, but sometimes their comments just rooted themselves deep into your subconscious. You didn’t try looking good anymore, you couldn’t wear anything without them criticising it. You could never win. 

“Awe,” Adrien poked your cheeks, “stop looking so sad. We’re just trying to give you advice. You really need it.”

“Yeah, (y/n). You’re so sensitive, get a grip.”

“Guys look, I think she’s gonna cry!” 

You wiped at your welling eyes with the sleeves of your sweater. “I’m not. I just got allergies.”

Annie rolled her eyes. “Uh-huh. Anyways, what are our plans for Halloween? We should totally dress up like sexy angels! I think that’d be so cool. Like, Clint’s party won’t be ready for us.”

“Oh, about that Annie…”

“God, what now (y/n)?”

“I was actually planning on spending Halloween night taking Tommy and Tubbo trick-or-treating with my brothers and dad. I won’t be able to go with you guys, I’m sorry.”

The group groaned loudly. “C’mon (y/n), you never hang out with us anymore.”

“Oh my god (y/n) you still go trick-or-treating? We’re juniors.”

“I’m sorry, I’ve just been busy with my AP classes and studying for the SAT. My team captain’s really been pushing the team hard with volleyball practice. State finals are soon and we want first this year.”

“No matter how much studying you do, you’re gonna fail. You’re stupid, so why try? Just give up and hang out with uuussss.”

“Yeah (y/n),” Adrien looked at you suspiciously, “you’ve been ignoring us lately. I thought we were friends. Do you even wanna be friends anymore?”

You felt a flare of panic flare up in your gut. “I do! I-I just have so much going on right now. It’s starting to get hard to juggle everything.”

“We’re starting to think that you don’t like us anymore, we want our (y/n) back!” Sammy whined. The others agreed with her, making you feel guilty. You were ignoring them, it was selfish in your opinion. You supposed that you could skip out on taking Tommy and Tubbo trick-or-treating, there’ll be other years you could take them. 

“I guess I can take Tommy and Tubbo another year. They’d just have to go without me this year.”

They cheered, giving you praise. You beamed at that, they seemed down lately and you loved it when they’d give you compliments. They didn’t do that much, so that made their praise more special to you. You strived to get compliments.

You four went off to your separate first classes for the day. Yours was statistics, a class you’ve been struggling in lately. You didn’t know anybody in there except for your oldest brother Techno, so you tried to stick with him. Unfortunately, the teacher’s seating chart placed you both on opposite ends of the room, probably because of your last names indicating that you’re siblings. You placed your stuff down on the table and plopped down into your seat, already drained. You had a long day ahead of you; you had a major AP world history test in your next class, you had to give a presentation in your AP english class that was worth a quarter of your final grade, and you had a semifinals volleyball match that would last until late in the night. If your team won, you would be going to state finals, so it was a lot of pressure on your shoulders. You were the main setter, so you had to really focus tonight if you were going to score your team points. 

“Alright class, pull out your homework!”

Fuck, you had homework? You looked in your folder, only to see the unfinished sheet full of equations you didn’t understand staring back at you tauntingly. Mr. Mullins walked over to your desk, took one look at your blank homework, and just walked right past you. Another big fat zero in the gradebook for you, just what you needed. At least he wasn’t in the mood to berate you today. You didn’t need any more stress piled onto your shoulders. 

The lesson felt like it dragged on forever with you frantically trying to copy down the notes on the board and trying to understand the content at the same time. Overtime, he would call students up to the board. Hopefully, he would skip over you today. “Ms. Minecraft.” Goddamn it, you spoke too soon.

Your head perked up and you looked at him. “Yes sir?”

“Come up to the board and solve this.”

Gulping, you felt panic rise up in you and stood up with shaky knees. On the board was part of the newer content he was just teaching. Something that you understood only a little bit better than the rest, and that’s not saying much. You still didn’t understand the content completely. Your writing was shaky as you wrote what you thought was right on the board. Finding the answer, you circled it and looked at Mr. Mullins. He looked disappointed. 

“That’s wrong, Ms. Minecraft. Please sit down.”

You felt like your face was on fire as you saw the entire class burning holes into you with their eyes. Though they looked dead inside, as per usual with any morning class full of tired teenagers, their effects still took hold on you. You wanted to crawl into a dark hole and die. You sat back down and stared at your note packet, you couldn’t focus on the lecture anymore. Your attention was fully on your surroundings, you were hyper aware of every little whisper and bouncing leg in your peripheral vision. You could feel yourself spiraling, usually that wouldn’t happen until after your third class. Today was going to be rough. 

The loud chime of the bell startled you out of your thoughts. You shakily put your papers back into your binder and put the binder back into your backpack. Right as you were about to walk through the door, you heard Techno catch up to you. “Hey, you good?”

“Yeah Tech, I’m just peachy.”

“Are you su-”

“Technoblade. I’m fine. Now if you excuse me, I have to get to my next class. I have an important presentation I’ve gotta prepare for.”

Without giving him any room to argue, you rushed off to your english class. You had Adrian and Annie in your class. For your presentation, you were paired up with people that you hardly knew. At least they did their part in the project, you were certain you were going to die if you got paired up with Adrian and Annie again. You loved them, but they never did any part of their portion of work. They left it to you to finish at midnight the day the project was due. To be fair, they both told you they had family emergencies, so you covered for them just that once. 

You pulled out your flashcards only to have them knocked out of your hand when someone bumped into you. You quickly crouched to pick them up so you could have them in order by time class started. “Oops, sorry love.”

It was Annie. She and Adrian towered over your crouched form smirking at you. Looking back down to rearrange your cards, you murmured “it’s ok.”

“Are you ready for this presentation, I know I am.”

You smiled a little. “Actually, I think I’m going to ace this. English is my best subject.”

“Yeah (y/n), I wasn’t asking you. I was talking to Annie. Besides, you’re probably going to fail this.” Adrian scoffed. 

“Thank you for asking, Adrian,” Annie shot a pointed look at you, “at least someone cares.”

The bell rang, signifying the start of your second block. You felt like you had a lump in your throat blocking your breathing. If Adrian, one of the smartest kids in your english class, said that you were going to fail, then you probably were going to fail. That would take a huge hit on your grade, this project was worth a quarter of your final grade after all. You were zoned out for the entirety of your classmate’s presentations putting yourself into a spiral. You jumped when Mr. Todd, your teacher, called your group up to present.

You stood stiffly in the middle of your two groupmates and clutched your flashcards with clammy hands. Luckily, your part of the presentation was not first. When it came to your part, you were stuttering and tumbling over your words. You even dropped your flashcards in front of everybody, causing half the class to snicker. Your face burned as you hurried to pick them up and your other groupmate took this as a signal to continue the presentation. You still had an important point to make that was integral for the set up to your other groupmate’s part of her presentation. You stared at your flashcards for the rest of the presentation. 

When the bell rang, you made a mad dash out of the classroom. You didn’t want to talk to anybody, especially not Adrian or Annie. It was a relief that you had your lunch period at the moment. You could hide yourself in the bathroom nobody used and let your panic attack ride itself out. 

You ducked inside a stall and sat on the toilet, bringing your knees up to bury your face in them. The tears and panic you were holding in all day let itself out with explosive effects. You started to hyperventilate as you muffled your sobs with your knee. Your chest painfully clenched so you couldn’t breathe. Your limbs felt like they weighed two tons each and they were shaking intensely. You didn’t hear the end of the lunch bell ring. By the time you calmed down slightly, you were five minutes late to AP world history. 

You packed your stuff up in a hurry, power walking through the halls. You probably looked like shit, but you didn’t care, you had a class to get to and a test that you probably wouldn’t be able to finish now. You lost ten minutes of your test time. When you tried to open the closed door, you found that it was locked. You had to knock if you wanted to get in. You raised a shaking hand to knock, but the door was opened by a less-than-impressed Ms. Osborne. She ushered you to your desk and gave you your unit test. 

You couldn’t focus. The multiple choice section was usually a breeze to you, but you couldn’t comprehend any of the questions. When you could comprehend them, you couldn’t concentrate on choosing an answer. You did your best to find the correct answers, but you were almost positive that at least half of them were wrong. Your handwriting was nearly incomprehensible and your essay topic was something you didn’t study for. When you were done with half of the body paragraphs, the bell rang and you had to turn in your unfinished test. 

You had your independent online psychology course next in the library. You usually worked alone secluded in a corner deep inside the library where nobody went. You would get some solace in being alone. Maybe you’d calm down enough so that you could ride home with your brothers and not go for a long walk so you could avoid them. 

You settled down in the comfortable chair and pulled out your laptop to get started. Psychology was your favorite class. It was easy for you to understand, it didn’t have much of a workload attached to it, and it was fun to learn about. It always calmed you down reading about the intricate workings of the brain. 

By time the day was over, you got most of your psychology work done and you were on your way to the car you shared with Technoblade and Wilbur. You took out your spare keys and slumped against the window in the backseat. You were absolutely drained after your terrible day and you still felt panic swirling deep within you, waiting for the right moment to strike. 

You stretched out your legs across the seat and leaned your back against the door. For the first time that day, you felt peaceful. You still had at least fifteen minutes to yourself until your brothers would start to make your way to the car. You felt the panic subside slightly and you fully relaxed. You closed your eyes and let yourself drift off into a light sleep. You needed your energy for tonight’s match. 

The door you were leaning on swung open and you tumbled backwards smacking the back of your head against the metal frame of the car and reverse scorpioning onto the pavement. Your entire upper back and the back of your head exploded in pain and your lower back hurt slightly from having your back bent uncomfortably. You heard laughter above you as you felt tears of pain start to slip out of your eyes. Your legs swung out from their place above your face and landed on the ground with a painful thump. 

You saw three blurry figures above you laughing at your pain. You reached up with a shaky hand to wipe at your tears and saw Adrian, Sammy, and Annie. They were cackling as you shakily stood up and sat on the comfortable seats of the car. You waited patiently for them to calm down. 

Eventually, Sammy calmed down enough to explain what happened to you through chuckles. “I’m sorry (y/n), it was just too good to resist. You should’ve seen your face.”

She and the others broke back into uncontrolled laughter as they remembered your embarrassing fall. You were used to their antics, and quite frankly it felt good to make your friends laugh, even if it were at your own expense. Just as they were calming down once again, you saw Wilbur and Techno walk out the front doors of the school laughing at something the other said. Annie and Sammy heard their laughter and quickly turned around to watch them. They had massive crushes on both of your brothers, many in the school did. 

Your brothers made their way to your shared car and stopped to look at you in slight confusion. “(Y/n), were you crying? What happened?” Wilbur asked worriedly. 

“Yea-”

“Oh Wilbur, it was terrible, (y/n) fell out of the car. I don’t think she closed the door before she leaned on it.” Annie interrupted you with a faked concerned tone, a complete contradiction to her reaction before your brothers came.

Techno hastily made his way to the driver’s side door. “Well, if she’s hurt we better get going, right Wilbur?”

“Yes! We better get going, please excuse us.” He sat in the passenger seat and closed the door without hearing Sammy and Annie’s desperate attempts to stop them so they could talk to them. Your brothers thought Sammy and Annie were annoying. They absolutely hated being around them. 

Waving apologetically at your friends, you pulled yourself into the car and closed the door. Annie and Sammy looked offended that you had let Wilbur and Techno get away from them. Avoiding their eyes, you looked down at your tightly clasped hands. They were shaking slightly. 

After pulling out of the parking lot, Techno glanced at you from the rearview mirror. “You ok (y/n)?”

“Yeah, my back just hurts and I have a headache.”

“Well, do you wanna go and get some ice cream? We still have some time left before we have to pick up Tommy and Tubbo. Dad doesn’t have to know,” Wilbur asked you.

You sighed, you wanted nothing other than to take a nap before your match. “Sorry, but I need to watch what I eat today. We have semifinals tonight and I can’t have anything sugary. I just wanna go home and take a nap.”

Your brothers were quiet for the rest of the car ride until you reached your driveway. Techno twisted his body around in his seat to look at you after he put the car in park. “Did you actually fall out of the car?”

Shit, should you tell him the truth? If you did, they would almost certainly get mad at your friends. Sammy and Annie would never forgive you if you turned your brothers against them. You decided that you would take one for the team again. “Yeah, I wasn’t paying attention.” 

Techno snorted. “Well, that was stupid,” he jokingly said. “Next time you’re gonna get run over by a parked car.”

You knew that he meant that as a joke, but it still stung. Stamping your emotions down, you laughed with him and Wilbur. It was stupid of you to do, you shouldn’t have let your guard down if you weren’t at home. 

You winced as you slung your bag on your back and walked the best you could back into your house. Your upper back was killing you. You made a beeline to the bathroom and rummaged through the medicine cabinet looking for some pain relief pills. You took some and shambled off to your room to take your well earned nap. You set your alarm’s setting to its loudest volume and passed out. 

You jolted up and gasped when you felt a wave of pain hit your upper back. You blearily looked at the time. You had a little under two hours before you had to get back to the school for your match. You groaned when you pulled yourself up, your head pounding with every turn. You pulled yourself out of bed and once again took some pain pills. You went downstairs to grab an apple or something to eat. Your dad was at the stove stirring something around in a pot. 

He turned to look at you with an excited smile. “You ready for your match tonight? You’re gonna kill it!” 

You only nodded halfheartedly and plopped yourself down at the table with your apple. Philza frowned at your lack of enthusiasm, but he figured that it was just because you just woke up from a nap. You’d bounce back eventually. 

“Wilbur told me that you fell out of the car? How’d you do that?”

You shrugged, wincing slightly as it moved your back slightly. “Dunno, must’ve not closed the door.”

Philza was at your side in a hurry, his hands hovering over your shoulders. “Did you get hurt? Show me where it hurts.”

“My back and the back of my head.”

“Can I move your shirt so I could look?”

“Sure, go ahead.”

You felt him gently pull the neck of your t-shirt away from your body to peek at your back. You heard his breath hitch as he looked. Was it that bad? “Good god (y/n),” he breathed out.

“What, is it bad?”

“Don’t you feel how bad it is? Your entire back is bruised. I think there’s some blood too.”

“Damn.”

“First, language. Second, that’s all you have to say? Aren’t you in pain?”

“Yeah, but the pain pills are gonna kick in soon. I’ll be fine.”

“Would you be able to play tonight? I really think you should sit this one out.”

“No, I’m playing tonight Dad.”

“(Y/n),” oh no, he was using his stern dad voice. “It’s not a good idea to play tonight. You’re hurt, I’m sure they’ll understand if you sit this one out.”

You felt frustration rise up in you. “We’re in the semifinals. They need me, I’m the main setter. They’d lose without me playing.”

“(Y/n), I’m serious. You’re not playing today.”

“Dad, I am playing today. Look, I’ll talk to Coach Williams to see if I could be rotated out more often. I know she’d let me.”

He stared at you for a while before sighing. He knew there was no convincing you. “...Fine. But you better talk to Coach Williams about sitting out for a bit if your back hurts too much or I swear I’ll drag you off the court myself.”

You smiled a little at the small victory. “Thank you! I promise I’ll sit out if needed.”

He quirked an eyebrow at you. “If needed?”

You sighed, “when needed.”

He walked over to the pot, stirring the contents slightly. “That’s better. Dinner’s almost ready, I made some pasta.”

“It smells good, but I think I’m skipping out on it for today. I already ate this apple and if I eat any more I’ll probably hurl on the court.”

He made a displeased noise in the back of his throat, “fine, but you’re eating something when we get home tonight.”

He walked off to go get your brothers and Tubbo for dinner. You could hear their booming steps racing down the stairs towards the kitchen. They raced into the kitchen and almost crashed into the back of your chair. You stood up and looked at the two excitable fifth graders. “Careful boys, don’t want you getting hurt.”

“You’re no fun (y/n),” Tommy whined.

“Sure, sorry bout that,” Tubbo beamed at you.

You chuckled, making your way upstairs to get ready for your match. You took off your clothes with great difficulty and slipped on your jersey and your spandex shorts. They were way too short for your tastes, but you couldn’t wear longer ones, they’d just get in the way. You fondly remembered how your dad flipped out when he first saw you in them, he hated them with a burning passion. He still hates how short they are.

When you were struggling with pulling your hair back into a tight, sleek ponytail, the back of your head throbbed continuously with pain. You most likely bruised your scalp. 

You slipped on your shoes that were made specifically for playing volleyball and headed downstairs. You were met with Tommy and Tubbo jumping in excitement seeing you in your uniform. They loved going to your matches, even if they would always pass out in the car after them because matches usually ended late at night. You grabbed your dad’s keys and headed to his car. Before you could lead the boys out the door, Philza’s voice stopped you.

“(Y/n), coat.”

You huffed, grabbing your coat and putting it on before tossing him his keys. You four got into the car and set out for the high school. The short drive was filled with Tommy and Tubbo asking you questions about volleyball and encouraging you. “(Y/n), you’re gonna kick their butts!”

“Yeah!” Tubbo cheered 

Despite their voices causing a spike of pain to shoot throughout your head, you laughed at their enthusiasm. It was always nice to hear your little brother and pseudo brother in the stands cheering you on, they were your and your team’s personal cheerleaders. 

Not long after you got to the school, you were stretching with your team on the gym’s floor. Your posse found their way into the stands, sitting in the front row. The away team watched your team like a hawk, analysing every single player for any weakness. It was because of them that you tried to not show any pain when you moved your back. You talked to Coach Williams before the team stretch and she was obviously sympathetic with your situation. She agreed to switching you out with the standby setter every few rotations. 

The echo of the whistles caused pain to ring in your head every time someone scored or a foul was called. Your team captain, Haley, was constantly, yet discreetly checking on you throughout the game since she was always next to you. She was the team’s main spiker after all. 

The game droned on and on before you realized that the opposing team was targeting you when they were offensive. They probably realized that you were injured a round ago. You tried your best to block every ball that was sent your way, but a few managed to slip past you when you couldn’t move fast enough. This team was good, but your team was better. 

The score during the final round was tied and the clock was on it’s last ten seconds as the ball soared your way. You dove to hit it, landing on your shoulder on the hard floor and hitting it up high enough for Haley to spike the ball down. The crowd went wild as the ball bounced off from the opposite end of the court almost simultaneously with the screeching of the referee’s whistle, signifying the end of the game and your team’s victory.

You laid on the floor in pain, you thought you must’ve pulled your tender muscles in your back and shoulder. It hurt to move it. You felt one of your teammates grab your hand to yank you up into a giant full team group hug. You yelped slightly in pain as you felt arms press against your back and hands firmly patting your bruised shoulders. You were whisked away into the locker room to change into the pajamas you brought with you. 

“(Y/n), are you alright? That was a pretty hard fall.” Haley’s soft voice asked you. You felt your heart sing in your chest. 

“Yeah Hales, I’m fine. I just pulled a few muscles.”

Her perfectly shaped eyebrows furrowed together, “are you sure? As your team captain and your friend, I’m worried about you.”

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. You felt warm knowing that she cared about you. “I’m sure, worrywart.”

She rolled her eyes playfully and breathed out a soft laugh. “Sorry for asking, grump.” Her laugh sounded like music to your ears. 

Your phone vibrated in your pajama pocket, alerting you of your family waiting for you in the car and for you to hurry up. You sighed, “sorry Hales, I gotta go. Dad’s getting impatient.” 

She gave you a small smile. “Oh, well, tell your family I said hi! Good work on the court today, I wouldn’t ask for a different setter.”

You felt your cheeks warm up and you watched with wide eyes as she left the locker room. Your phone vibrated again, your dad was really starting to get impatient. 

You walked out of the school as fast as you could to find your dad’s car waiting for you up front. Jumping in and softly closing the passenger side door, you slumped against the window. “(Y/n),” Tommy’s tired voice slurred. “That. Was. Pog…”

You glanced back to see him and Tubbo snoring away in their seats. Your match was more exciting than usual, so that must’ve really tired them out. You chuckled, turning back around to lean against the window. You took care not to put any weight on your shoulder or back. 

“(Y/n), you were amazing out there, but why did you dive for that ball? That fall looked like it hurt.”

You hummed tiredly, “thanks Dad. I just did what I thought would win us the game. We’re going to finals!” You quietly sang. 

“Did you hurt your shoulder?”

“I actually don’t know, but I think I might’ve pulled a few muscles. Nothing too bad.”

“...I scheduled a doctor’s appointment for you tomorrow morning during your first and second blocks. I want you to get your back, shoulder, and head looked at. You looked miserable the entire match.”

You sighed, too tired to argue, “mmk.”

He chuckled before the car fell into a comfortable silence. The gentle bouncing of the car and the subtle hum of the engine was lulling you to sleep. Your eyelids were drooping by the time you pulled into your driveway. 

You drug yourself out of the car and into the house, leaving Philza with the sleeping boys. You walked straight to your room and plopped down on your bed, passing out instantly for the second time that day.

Series taglist (comment if you want to be added):

[oh-ranpo]

stay, don’t go.

pairing: bucky barnes x reader warnings: angsty angst an: I don’t know, I just wrote it lmao word count: 2.4k+

“And if he was wrong about you, he was wrong about me!”

You kept hearing those words replaying over and over in your head. You knew that he had been upset about Sam giving up the shield, but you were surprised at how you hadn’t seen these particular emotions coming. There were a lot of things that Bucky worried about, but this burden of a thought broke your heart even more than usual. It was the most transparent he had been in months, and you hadn’t even been the one he was opening up to. Not that it mattered all that much, but now, you were struggling to find a way to help with the newly re-opened wound.

After the therapy session with Sam, Bucky had withdrawn into himself even more. Even though you had been waiting right outside the door, it was almost as if he didn’t see you at all when he walked through it. You had reached for his hand, and he had let you take his, but he didn’t say a word to you. 

He’s had a rough day, you had told yourself. Getting arrested on top of everything else he was dealing with had to be a lot. He just needed some time to process it all. 

Only, now, it was five hours later and he still hadn’t said a thing. You managed to get some hums in response to your prompting, and a shrug here and there, but no actual words fell from his lips. The anger from earlier in the day had dissipated, and now his shoulders drooped as he seemed to be carrying the world on his shoulders. Not that this was anything new to you either. It was a look you had long grown used to, but after hearing his outburst at therapy, you had a better idea than usual as to what was causing his pain this time.

Bucky had taken a spot in one of the chairs in the corner of your shared hotel room, and his blue eyes were fixed on the wall in front of him as he seemed to be attempting to stare a hole through it. You could practically hear the gears in his head turning, and you were sure that if you could read his thoughts, you wouldn’t be able to handle the emotional turmoil that lay inside. When you couldn’t get him to talk, you decided to order some food - something that you knew he liked - and then sat down in the chair next to him. 

“Food should be here soon,” you told him, as if he couldn’t hear you placing the delivery order just five minutes prior from the other side of the room. This time, Bucky didn’t even bother acknowledging what you had said as his hand came up to rest under his chin. He was still staring at the same spot on the wall, and his eyes were squinting slightly as he seemed to be deep in thought.

You sighed as you glanced down at your watch and saw that it was getting later in the evening, and you wondered what Sam was up to. The three of you had parted ways after the police station, and Sam had barely said anything to you or Bucky when you left. You could make out some of their conversation through the door during therapy, but really the only part you had heard clearly were Bucky’s words. And it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that the ‘he’ Bucky had been referring to was Steve. This was what his whole trip had been about in the first place.

You knew that you couldn’t go the whole night without addressing the elephant in the room, but you also knew how Bucky was when it came to opening up. Even with you. You knew that, besides Sam, you were one of the only people that he trusted since Steve passed away, and you didn’t take that lightly. You really only pressed when you knew that it would be good for him to talk about something, and this was one of those times.

“Bucky?” You started again, using his name this time in an attempt to draw his attention away from the wall. He didn’t look over at you at first, but slowly, as you waited patiently, they started to trail over in your direction. When his eyes finally met yours, you gave him a small, sad smile as you leaned against the arm of the chair closest to him. “About what you said to Sam today…” 

You didn’t get a chance to finish your thought before Bucky was swiftly moving out of his seat. The movement caught you by surprise, as he had seemed so relaxed - well, as relaxed as he could be given the situation - but now he was running his hands through his hair as he started pacing in circles.

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” he mumbled, as his hand ran over his face, and his other gloved hand shoved into the pockets of his jeans. Slowly, you stood up from your own chair and made your way over to him, your hand reaching out for the sleeve of his jacket before he harshly pulled it out of your grasp. 

His entire reaction was confusing you because usually, he just shut down. He didn’t get this visibly worked up, he just shut down and refused to give you any emotion or feedback on how he was feeling. Now, you could tell that he was upset, and from the look on his face, he knew that his expression and actions were giving him away.

“But you know you should,” you continued as you tried to reach for him again, this time more slowly. “Let me be there for you, Buck.” The second part of your statement came out at nearly a whisper, but it had been loud enough he had heard you and he started shaking his head.

“You shouldn’t have to. I’m- I’m fine. I just need to go-“ Now, he had started moving towards the hotel door, and you felt your heart start to race in your chest. He was trying to leave.

“Wait, no, don’t go!” You cried, as you rushed to stop him, and Bucky’s hand hesitated over the doorknob. “Please. Stay. Talk to me.” You hated how broken your words sounded, but after everything that had taken place over the last few months, you couldn’t bear the thought of him walking out of that door and leaving you alone. Hesitantly, Bucky looked back over his shoulder at you, and you could see that same, decades-old pain swimming in his light blue irises.

“You’d be better off if I did. I’m doing nothing for you here.” Earlier, when you thought the comment about Steve was the most painful thing you had heard him say, this was a close second. You shook your head firmly as you took another step closer to him, and instead of reaching for the door knob fully, Bucky allowed his hand to fall back down to his side.

“No, Bucky, I wouldn’t be better off. I lived five years without you. Five years of never knowing if you were going to come back. I’ve known a life without you, and that is something I never want to have to experience again.”

Bucky’s shoulders deflated at your words, and you could see a flash of something in his expression that gave you a sliver of hope. You knew how he felt about you, and you knew that, deep down, he was well aware of how you felt about him. That was a secret you never tried to keep from him, and the one thing he never tried to hide from you either. 

After he didn’t move any closer to the door, and he didn’t respond to your words either, you slowly reached out for him once more, but this time, he didn’t pull away. You took ahold of his gloved hand and moved closer to him. The pain and conflict was still present in his expression, but as you lifted your other hand to cup his cheek, you hoped that maybe you would be able to find a way to bring him some comfort.

“Come sit back down with me, please,” you whispered, and for a moment, he didn’t move. You knew that if he really wanted to leave, you would have to let him, but your heart started to crack at the mere thought. Thankfully, after another heavy moment of silence, Bucky nodded and allowed you to lead him back to the end of the bed. You didn’t drop his hand, and when the two of you sat down next to one another, you sat close enough so that your leg was pressed up against his. 

“I know you said you don’t want to talk about it, but I heard what you said to Sam today. About Steve,” you murmured, your gaze falling to where your hands were entwined and resting on his thigh. “And Bucky, you know that isn’t true, right? Steve… he thought the world of you. He would have, and did, do anything for you. He knew you, Buck, just as I do, and he saw the heart that you have and knew that you were worth every bit of it.”

When you looked up, you could see the tears swimming in his eyes as he tried to hold them back. Steve had always been a sensitive subject, and you knew that, but you also knew that what you said was true. You had known Steve, and you had seen and heard the way he felt about his best friend. Before he was Captain America, Bucky had always been there for him, and after he was Captain America, he was there to return the favor without hesitation. He never held Bucky’s Hydra days against him because he knew, just as you did, that he had no control over that. He was a victim; a pawn in a much bigger game than he ever could have won on his own. He was still paying for it, even after all this time. You just hoped that someday he’d find a way to forgive himself.

“I just don’t know sometimes,” Bucky managed to choke out after another heavy silence. “I mean, I’m trying, but the nightmares and the constant reminders of what I did…” His voice trailed off as he fixed his eyes on the window across the room in an attempt to keep the tears at bay. You knew that he hated crying in front of anyone, despite you having told him numerous times that he didn’t have to hide that part of himself from you.

“That wasn’t you, at least, not really,” you replied. “You’re James Buchanan Barnes, White Wolf.” This time you nudged him in the shoulder with your own and he cracked half a smile as his eyes flickered back over to you. “The Winter Soldier was not you. And before you try to argue with me, I’ve seen him and I’ve seen you, and I can tell you that he is nowhere near the same guy as the one that’s sitting right here next to me.”

Bucky cringed at the reminder that you had been forced to bear witness to his time as The Winter Soldier when Zemo had activated him a few years before the blip. He had spent months apologizing, despite not having done anything to you, and you cursed yourself for bringing it up again. 

“I mean, the metal arm is the only thing you guys have in common, and on the Bucky I know… it’s actually kind of sexy.” You added the last part lightly, and when Bucky looked over at you again, you waggled your eyebrows playfully. He just shook his head as the corners of his lips turned up just a bit, before his gaze fell to his lap. The hand you were holding now was the metal one, and you followed his gaze as you released your hold on it before slowly slipping his glove off. He flexed the metal appendages as soon as the glove was gone, and you reached for it as your fingers traced over the cool metal.

“It’s a curse,” he mumbled, his eyes still locked on where it was resting in his lap. “I mean, Shuri was nice enough to make it better than the old one but…” 

You shook your head as you grabbed it before lifting it to your lips and pressing a small kiss to the back of it.

“It’s not a curse, it’s a part of you. And because of that, I love it. Just like I love you.”

Bucky inhaled sharply at those three little words, even though you had been saying them practically non-stop since he had returned. You had said it before he was gone too, but you knew, back then, that he didn’t believe it. 

“I do love you, Bucky. So please… don’t leave.” 

For a moment, you could tell that Bucky had almost completely forgotten about how he had been about to walk out. It was a gift that you possessed that he had never truly understood. Even though you were talking about his problems, it didn’t feel nearly as bad as it did when he talked about his problems with anyone else. Not that he opened up enough to anyone else to really do much good. 

“I couldn’t leave,” he murmured as your eyes lifted to meet his. “You’re the only one that makes me feel… well, anything.”

Your heart fluttered in your chest as that was practically him saying he loved you too, and you couldn’t help but smile. 

“And thank you,” he continued. “For what you said.” You nodded in response as you leaned against his shoulder, his metal hand falling to your thigh as you wrapped your arms around his waist. 

“I’m always here for you to talk to, you know that? Though, you do need to talk to Sam too. He’s going through a hard time just like you are, and he needs his friends to be there with him too.” 

Slowly, Bucky nodded, but before either of you could continue, there was a knock on the hotel room door, and you were reminded of the take-out order that you had placed earlier.

“You hungry?” You asked with another smile as you stood up from the end of the bed and moved towards the door.

“I could eat,” you heard him respond, and you chuckled as you pulled open the door to grab your food. 

Things were far from perfect, but every day the two of you took baby steps towards healing together. And really, you couldn’t ask for much more than that. 

[macadam]

Aiit so

I'm tryna redesign Jazz because I'm still sad that he hasn't been redesigned and brought back to any current series

And I even wanna give him new colours and femme attributes

But I'm not used to humanoid figures and when I try I get unsure of what I'm doing and keep stalling from drawing and everything i draw becomes half done ;-;

I feel sad about it and want to pass out but I'm trying to not think of any negative words about it

I just wanna ask, how did you get over the muddy feeling of drawing humanoids?

I feel you anon, I really do. I struggle with this a lot myself.

I have two brands of advice to give you. The first one includes that horrid, horrid word. Practice.

When I was in my first year of college I spent a lot of time going to extra life drawing sessions. I can't recommend this enough, just picking a day or two every week and spending an hour or so drawing poses of the human figure. They don't even have to be long. Sticking to 2-5 minutes and just getting use to getting the basic gesture and shapes down quickly will do wonders. Here are some databases I recommend that have great collections of people posing: https://line-of-action.com, http://reference.sketchdaily.net/en, http://reference.sketchdaily.net/en. Deviant art also has some great pose collections. AdorkaStock, JookpubStock, and theposearchives have some great stuff that I often use.

Second piece of advice is me telling you that have incomplete wips and explorations is the most important part of design. Explore every angle or don't. Draw one leg and not the other because you know it's the same. Put a bunch of shapes on a page and see which one resonates the most with how you want Jazz to look, and fit a stick figure within that shape-- and you can add in actual libs later or not. It's all up to you. Please please know that those concept art books and instagram posts you see are for things much father along in the brainstorming process. You don't have to be creating these works of art in the beginning stages, and if you are, you're doing it wrong (that's not even my advice that is years of being lectured by profs to loosen up my initial concept stage). Stick figures are your friend, shapes are your friend. One very detailed torso on a circle-head and stick legged body is your friend.

Here's an example of my thumbnail vs concept vs final stage of a school project, just to give you an idea of how messy things are allowed to be

Process does not need to be perfect, and it shouldn't be scary. It's just a bunch of scribbles as you wrestle with pulling the ideas out of your brain.

And if what you're worried about is anatomy, allow my to show you some of my favourite little guys from gesture drawing:

Those arms are just a line or noodle. And that's all you need.

Also here's some official tfp concept art that's just some scribbly lines and half the form missing. It's just some shapes pretending to be anatomy.

Sorry for info-dumping on you (and everyone else who has to see this yikes) I'm just very passionate about concept art and doodles. They can be the most freeing thing if you let them.

[free-pancakes]

do you have any headcanons about levi struggling with writing reports (cos he came from the underground) and hange teaches him how to read and write? 🥺🤲

The sound of crumpling paper echoed softly down the hallway, followed by a gentle rustle as it hit the floor. The sound repeated again and again for the next few minutes. Hange noticed this little occurrence happened like clockwork—around 8pm every night, she heard the little mantra of noise through her cracked open door. However, one night the crumpling sounded a bit more aggressive than usual, so she decided to take a break from writing reports to check it out.

She walked out of her room, and followed the noise, until she found herself at the very end of the hallway the at the first door around the corner.

A quiet muttering echoed through the cracked open door. “Shitty paper, this shitty ink, f—“

She peeked in, seeing the new recruit fussing over what looked like a pile of reports. Hange couldn’t help but feel a sadness wash over her—the poor guy just lost his two best friends, Farlan and that sweet girl, Isabel. “Maybe he just needs company!” she thought. As she would with any of her friends, she barged in with barely a knock and began to launch her chatter at the disgruntled man.

“Leviiii! How are you?? There are so many crumpled up pieces of paper on the floor and in the garbage can! Are you practicing your aim?” She picked up one of the paper balls from the ground and threw it at the can, which hit the rim and gently toppled in.

“SCORE!!!!!” she yelled happily. She turned back to Levi who looked angry as ever, seemingly ready to pull out his hair in annoyance. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? Can you please leave?”

She looked at him with curiosity, and saw ink stains all over his hands, dark scribbles on the piece of paper on his desk in front of him.

“Aw so you weren’t practicing your aim just now?” she asked teasingly.

“Get out and take your shitty glasses with you!” he yelled coldly.

“Okay, Levi!” she responded with a smile, and gently closed the door on her way out, leaving Levi dumbfounded at how she smiled cheerfully at him even after his angry outburst.

————————-

“Hey Hange, can you come here for a minute?”

Erwin gestured her over to his desk and showed her the reports in his hand.

“Can you read this?”

“Hmm,” she replied as she looked closely at the scribbled report. “Just barely, I can probably rewrite it out for you.”

“Thanks, I’d really appreciate that, I just have so many to review. But it seems that Levi’s always gives me trouble.”

The overused lightbulb in her head lit up brightly, little sirens sounding off in her brain as she made the connection. “It all makes sense now!”

“What makes sense now?” Erwin asked.

“I can fix it, don’t worry, Erwin!” She yelled as she dashed excitedly out of the room.

“Wait, Hange, you said you’d help me rewrite these!” He looked back at the report. It looked like it had been written by a 3rd grader with particularly bad handwriting. He grimaced and sighed, putting his head down on his desk in defeat.

——————-

Hange heard the crumpling and grumbling sounds once again and skipped down over to Levi’s room. Before she could barge in, she stopped herself. He would probably just throw her out again, and this pattern made it safe to assume he’d probably keep his struggles a secret and reject her help. It wasn’t his fault he grew up in the underground, he just needed some guidance! So, she ran back to her room and pulled out a few sheets of paper and a fresh quill. She began writing out the alphabet as neatly as possible to form a sort of chart for him to reference. On the next few pages she wrote tips and tricks for sounding out the letters, as well as common phrases that she used in reports that might help him as well.

Late into the night, she finished and quietly walked down to his room again, careful not to wake up the people in the rooms in between. The door remained cracked open, and the room was silent. She peered into the room finding Levi having fallen asleep, his head resting on his desk, the oil lamp still on.

“Oh this worked out, he would have never accepted my help up front,” she thought. She quietly slipped into the room, and neatly placed her guide sheets next to him, and a small box of tea she acquired from town the other day, leaving a small note on top of it all saying, “Hope you find this helpful! Your friend, Hange.”

She smiled and was about to the leave the room, but took a second to look at Levi—she never saw the guy’s face without a scowl, he looked so peaceful, and it made her smile. She walked over to pull the blanket from his bed and wrapped it around him gently. She pushed the locks of hair that messily covered his face back and around his ear, and blew out the lamp. “Good night, Levi,” she whispered, and closed the door behind her.

———————

A month passed since then, and Hange never heard a word from Levi after that. Life went on as if it never happened.

They returned from yet another grueling expedition, and she plopped down on the couch in the common room after cleaning herself off. She wiped her tears, shed over the loss of comrades, yet again. Attempting to erase the sad thoughts that often set up camp in her mind, she thought about the different abnormal titans she saw that day, many of them she and Levi took down together. They never needed to say a word to each other and worked seamlessly together. She was happy that she worked well with the new recruit, at least during the expeditions. Though she wondered if her little writing guide helped him—she never asked Levi about it, but she noticed that Erwin stopped asking her for help reading reports. Before she knew it, exhaustion fell over her, and she fell asleep right there in the common room.

She woke up suddenly, and found herself in her bed, confused as to how she got there. She turned over to her nightstand to find a neat pile of papers with her glasses sitting neatly on top of them. A small note rested on top. “Stop falling asleep in the common room, I hate having to carry you back myself. - Levi”

She laughed at the note, put on her glasses, and looked at the sheets. Pages of neatly handwritten notes with a few mistakes here and there, stared at her. Little drawings of the abnormal titans they saw, and small descriptions about their actions and movements written underneath the pictures. Her eyes widened in excitement and she smiled at his improvement at writing, but more importantly, more notes to add to her titan research.

Levi heard excited giggling echo through the hallway and he walked over to the noise. He peeked through the cracked open door, seeing Hange excited over the notes he wrote. He smiled to himself and softly whispered, “Thanks, Hange,” and walked back to his room.

(thanks for the ask, anon! it was a super cute idea)

[holykillercake]

Love Ordeal

SANJI X f!READER

word count: 2k

summary: The Strawhts decide to play Secret Davy Treasure and Sanji doens´t stop asking whom you got. 

highlight:  ¨Sanji,¨ you sighed ¨I love you, but if you don´t stop, I will be forced to throw your cigarettes in the ocean and straighten your eyebrows.¨

warning: F.L.U.F.F.

notes: Guys! This a part 2/3 of a request for a fluff where they have a s/o that made them a thing with crochet and how they would react. Also, Secret Davy Treasure is like Secret Santa, but you know. ALSO, there is a surprise at the end! 

𝕷𝖊𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖘, 𝖗𝖊𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖘, 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊!

¨Just pick one, Luffy!¨

¨But which one?¨

¨It doesn´t matter!¨

¨Hmm, can I pick two?¨

¨NO!¨

Earlier that day, an old lady told Nami that whichever path Luffy chose would always lead to another Winter Island. So with the end of the year approaching and the cold weather, you decided to play Secret Davy Treasure, a great South Blue tradition.

It consisted of the participants writing their names on a piece of paper, mixing them in a bowl - or Luffy's hat - and drawing them.  Whoever’s name you picked is who you will buy or make a Secret Davy Treasure.

You should have guessed that even something that sounded so simple would be complicated in the Thousand Sunny. The crew didn´t seem to understand nor follow the rules of physics, reality, and the game. 

At first, Zoro folded his paper with his name on the outside; then Brook picked himself and didn´t tell anyone. Now you were struggling with Luffy, who couldn´t pick one because A) he wanted to know what was written inside, and B) he wanted to pick more than one. 

While Franky, Usopp, and Chopper yelled at him, trying to make him understand, Brook laughed at the whole situation, and the rest of you wished to die and get reborn as clams. 

Sanji adjusted the blanket around your bodies and hugged you tighter, chatting until the commotion was over.  

¨Will you tell me?¨ he blew some smoke, and you tilted your head to look at him. 

¨Tell what?¨

¨Who you got.¨

¨What? Of course no!¨ you laughed ¨This is not how you play it!¨

¨But we are a couple, Y/N-chan!¨

¨.., and?¨ you sang the word.

¨We shouldn't keep secrets from each other!¨

A cloud of white smoke came out of your mouth when you giggled before snuggling deeper in his arms. 

¨Okaay,¨ Usopp crawled closer to you, defeated and holding Luffy´s hat ¨he will be the last one.¨

Despite your captain yelling that he should be the first to pick, you were all getting tired and opted to ignore him. 

¨Thanks!¨ you used the blanket to cover yourself as you unfolded it.

A chuckle left your mouth when you saw the name written, and the blonde behind you tried to peek over your shoulder. But you were faster to put the piece of paper with the name of your boyfriend inside your bra.

You turned and gave him a peck on the cheek while he pouted. 

You would have one week to come up with a Davy Treasure for Sanji, and you knew exactly what to do, but some butterflies still flew in your belly, wondering if he would like it. 

As a matter of fact, he loved everything you did, from sweet love to extremely salty culinary disasters. He would find perfection in every little thing done by you.

Enjoying your last days on the island of Snow Globe Pole - yeah, almost as bad as ¨Long Ring Long Land¨ - you decided to tour the city, looking for what you needed to make your gift. Or rather, to crochet your gift.

That was the easy part, for you were on a winter island, yarn and wool were pretty abundant. Every style possible of every possible color, anything that crossed your mind was available in the store. It would have been distracting if you didn´t have the colors already chosen. 

But again, so much for an innocent game. So much for a bit of fun. So naive to believe that Sanji would stop asking you whom you picked. 

In his defense, he had gotten calmer during the first night. But after seeing the bag you brought from the store, he became even more annoying. 

Charming, loving, but still annoying. 

¨It´s not Franky, right? His hands wouldn´t fit in it.¨

¨His regular-sized-robotic-mannequin hands would.¨ you looked at him with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. 

You could almost see the gasp stuck in his throat and his heart skipping a beat. 

After that, he kept bringing you desserts, offering massages, and doing everything in his power to bribe you. Skypiea Sanji was not the real Love Ordeal. Secret Davy Treasure Sanji was the real Love Ordeal. 

¨Sanji,¨ you sighed ¨I love you, but if you don´t stop, I will be forced to throw your cigarettes in the ocean and straighten your eyebrows.¨

He grumbled ¨I love you¨ back among some other things and marched to the kitchen with flames on the top of his head. You chuckled and went back to your colorful wools. 

Before you chose his gift, you thought about Sanji and the things that he liked or needed. From cooking to smoking and women. 

Cooking for him would be outrageous. You wanted to give him something amazing, and you couldn't compare to him in the kitchen. At all.

Women. You were the only woman he wanted and needed, and honestly, you were the woman for the job. 

Now, smoking. You would not buy or make him cigarettes, obviously. But he had this adorable and clumsy thing of always burning the tips of his mittens whenever he lit a cigarette. 

Because of that, you decided to crochet him one of those fingerless gloves that come with a mitten flap so he could cover his fingers once he was done. Like that, he would be warm and natural disaster-free. 

¨There is orange, Y/N-chan! You got Nami, right?!¨ you jumped and almost stabbed yourself with the hook when he yelled in your ear.

¨Oh, my sweet Davy Jones, give me strength...¨ you whispered ¨There is also purple, Sanji-kun. It could be Brook or Robin.¨ 

He pondered over it a little, frowned, and made his way to the door.

¨Hey!¨ he turned with sad puppy eyes ¨Is this really important to you? To know who I got?¨ he nodded. 

You gestured with your head, telling him to come closer. A big and bright smile appeared on his face, and your heart beat stronger. That smile, you would punch the Red Line broken to create another All Blue for that smile. 

Oh, how you love this cook. 

¨Ok! Just because I am asking I´ll tell you first, ok?¨ he spoke with a lower voice but still sparkly. You smiled and nodded. ¨I got Chopper! And I bought him a new backpack with a lot of compartments for his medical stuff.¨

The way he paid attention to the tiny details made you melt. He was always taking care of others, complimenting the crew - except Zoro - and celebrating even the smallest of the successes. 

He showed you the blue backpack, very similar to Chopper´s current one, but a lot stronger, prettier, and more practical. He would love it, no doubts. 

¨Well,¨ you began ¨I got... Usopp.¨ 

You felt terrible about telling him a lie, but you couldn´t spoil your surprise.

 ¨Since we´re going to winter islands, I don´t want his finger to get tangled when, Uhm... he´s picking his Ketchup Stars, Green Stars, or Let´s-scare-creepy-girls-to-death Stars. I really hope he likes it.¨

If you were not paying enough attention, you would have missed Sanji´s disappointed look, which he quickly hid with a kind smile. 

¨You always think about everything, Y/N-chan. He will love it.¨ he kissed your forehead and went back to the kitchen. 

You waited until he closed the door to cringe ¨You are going to hell, Y/N.¨ 

Finally, the Secret Davy Treasure day arrived. You would exchange gifts and then have a nice dinner if Luffy didn´t make a party out of it. He definitely would. 

But you were also grateful that today was the day. Since you told Sanji that you had picked Usopp, he has been acting a little upset. The other guys didn´t notice, but you did. 

You would always notice. And you had an idea why. 

The gift exchanging rules were pretty simple.  The Secret Davy had to offer information about the person receiving the treasure, and the others had to guess. 

It started with Usopp, whose Secret Davy was Franky. He gave him a bunch of super tools and some colored light bulbs for the ¨Party Nipple¨ idea.

Franky´s Secret Davy was Robin. He gave her a journal with waterproof pages he created. 

Robin´s Secret Davy was you, and she presented you with a beautiful copy of a fictional adventure book since you were always reading them on the ship.

Then it was your turn. You held the gift wrapped in a shiny blue paper and began to describe your Secret Davy. 

¨My Secret Davy is... slightly annoying sometimes.¨

¨It´s the stupid-eyebrow.¨ Zoro said.

¨Shut up, marimo head!¨

You continued after Nami punched them. ¨My Secret Davy always takes care of us.¨ 

¨It´s Chopper!¨ you shook your head.

¨Hmm... my Secret Davy is an exceptional fighter! Really strong!¨ 

¨It´s me!¨ 

¨No, Zoro! It´s me! I will become the Pirate King!¨ 

¨Shut up, you two!¨

¨My Secret Davy is...¨ you looked at Sanji and smiled ¨... loving and caring.¨ 

He looked back at you, confused.  Why would you say those about Usopp? Not that he wasn´t loving and caring, but... still. 

¨My Secret Davy is... the man of my dreams, the prince of my fairy tale, and the love of my life.¨

A minute or two passed while everyone waited for Sanji to say something, but he remained frozen with a perplexed expression. 

¨Sanji-san, I think the treasure is yours.¨ Brook said calmy. 

The cook made his way to you slowly, taking the gift from your hands and opening it gently, without tearing the wrapping.  

Did he get upset because of your lie? 

¨Sanji...¨ you called him, but he kept staring at the gloves. 

You saw his eyes fill with water before he excused himself and exited the deck, leaving everyone staring at you. 

¨I don´t... I´m gonna...¨ you pointed and left too. 

When you entered your room, he was standing, back turned to you. Was he really crying, or you saw things?

¨Sanji-kun?¨

¨You remembered...¨ he turned around, still holding the mittens ¨These colors...¨ 

¨Yeah, they don´t really match, but...¨

¨I wanted it so much, Y/N. When I saw it, I wanted it so much.¨

He rushed in your direction and hugged you tight. He hugged you and you felt all his emotions, you felt the weight he carried in his heart. Not a bad weight, just the weight of missing someone you love. 

You knew that that was the reason he was pestering you so much, the colors. You had chosen the colors that Zeff, Sanji´s mentor, wore. 

The fingers were orange and purple, like his striped shirt. You added yellow details of his hair; the blue of his ascot, and the white of his apron. 

As you said, they didn´t match, but apparently, Sanji didn´t care.

He would always share stories about their lives and cook recipes that Zeff taught him. Despite him always calling him old man or damn geezer, the Red Leg was his father.

¨Thank you, Y/N-chan. I loved it.¨

The sound of him sniffing made you hold him stronger. 

¨I miss that damn geezer.¨ 

¨I´m sure he misses you too, Little Eggplant.¨ 

¨Oi!¨

You squeaked and laughed when he threw on the bed.

¨I´ll show you Little Eggplant!¨

Hey, Guys! SURPRISE! Here´s my first decent art? hahaha THE MITTENS!

I don´t know if the quality dropped. I´m using krita and still don´t know how to adjust the settings stuff when I´m saving a jpeg. Anyway, I hope you liked it!

[capricioussun]

Okay I’m curious about these matchups - never described my personality before so h Mm

I’m a weird mix of both introverted and extroverted traits; I’m pretty quiet and just keep to myself most of the time but I can also be pretty energetic and out there (and impulsive) when I get spontaneous bursts of confidence - I have a habit of dissociating and get a pretty strong RBF from it that makes me look mad but I've been told I perk right back to up to smiley and whatnot as soon as someone talks to me!

I do have a habit of returning energy to people - if you're excited and hyped up I’ll be excited and hyped up too, if your sad I’ll be sad, if you’re hostile towards me I’ll be hostile as well, etc.

Other than that I’m just a pretty relaxed person in general, I usually sit in the background of conversations and listen in, draw, and of course - always bring up the reptiles at some point. I always have pictures of my geckos or some silly amphibian to show friends or friendly strangers between conversations 🦎

As for a type; Honestly not sure, I don’t really have a preference as long as they're willing to communicate!

If I’m being honest I’m not sure if you’d be partners or besties but the best partners are besties aren’t they? I’m thinking of Stretch (Underswap Papyrus)!

Stretch is (outwardly) very laid back, friendly, and has a silly sense of humor! Inwardly he’s a bit anxious and awkward, but has long since (mostly) learned to hide it well. Nonetheless, the two of you would likely get along like two peas in a pod!

He’s not so much reflective as he is the kind of guy who gets along well with almost anyone, and he can feel a bit out of place with heavier emotions and situations. Not for lack of sympathy, but out of concern he wouldn’t be good at helping, so he tends to offer more of a shoulder to cry on or brings a little levity to the situation, while also trying to be respectful. As is the way with most Papyri, he struggles a bit with social aspects of relationships, so he would love to spend time just hanging out with you, either mutually doing your own things or chatting about interests (and he would love the little creatures). He’d really admire your flexible personality, and enjoy the energy and confidence just as much as your more chill side!

Even though he feels awkward doesn’t mean he always comes across that way, and still does enjoy going out or exploring from time to time, and has a pretty broad, casual friend circle. Really, he’s happy to go with your flow or take you along with his whenever the vibes align.

His communication skills…need work. But he is willing to put that work in for the right person, and the effort would be noticeable with time. Like anything, it takes practice, and you’d put him at ease enough he’d find an easier time communicating with you than most. And not just with communication, he’d start putting more effort into taking better care of himself, too, and with time, he’d quite literally become a better person for having a partner who is just as much a friend, and he would become a reliable, bright, and affectionate partner!

Prompt