#greta van fleet fan fic au

[writingcold]

Chapter Eight - Internal flaws and internal conflicts will lead the way

Content Warnings:  I need to put this here - this is a work of fiction. There will be imagery of violence, character deaths, inequities, poverty, heavy angst, and adult sexual situations throughout the story. Please read at your own discretion. All characters are fictional, though some of the big events that are shown are historical, but may not be historically accurate. 

Thank you to @edgingthedarkness for all of her help as my all mighty beta for this fiction. She listened to me drone on and on about it for months on end. She really took a bullet for this one! She created the banner for this story as well! Also thank you to @katuschka for her amazing skills in bringing our hero Jakub to life. Divider art by @ firefly-graphics.

The Dead

Jake X Fem!Reader

Chapter Eight word count: approximately 6000 words

Warnings in this part: Sibling arguing, feelings of self doubt, grief.

Chapter 8.1: Swansong in the Graveyard

     “Spill it,” Owen said as he stared directly into his phone.

      Fighting the urge to laugh, I found distraction in yanking the pan of eggs from the stove before they burned. “Spill what?”

      “Gran says that you’re still in Frankenmuth.”

      I nodded as I plated up my breakfast. “So?”

     “I don’t know when the last time you were in a single place that long just to do research,” he jabbed. “If you wanted a dude in lederhosen, I could’ve flown you here to-”

     I grumbled, bobbling my plate and coffee to the table away from the phone. “It’s just more than I planned on. That’s all.”

     “Still not talking about the story is what is bothering me,” he admitted, turning back to the screen just as I returned to grab my phone from the counter. “Typically you’re done with research and writing by now. How interesting can that touristscape be?”

      I rolled my eyes and moved the topic away from me but it boomeranged back within minutes.

     “What about that literacy bit you have - isn’t that coming up?” 

     Eating slowly, I explained how the conference would traverse across three days and many state-based authors and educators of all levels teaming up for more impactful and meaningful methods of catching the interest of kids and adults …

      “Stop,” he growled as I finally hit the bored button. A twinkle in his eye caught me off guard as he leaned in close. “You gonna take the cute pilot to the conference?”

     I blinked. I blinked again as my brother’s grin grew smug. “Pardon?”

     “The pilot? Maybe he can fly you two out and then-”

     “Owen,” I tried to break in, but he continued to ramble. He spoke unabashedly. “Owen, please.”

     “Come on, Y/n,” he jabbed. “He’s a good looking guy. How could you not-”

     “I’m hanging up.”

     “No! What the hell is going on?”

     “Don’t want to talk about it.”

     He sat back in his chair. When I finally looked at the screen and took in his expression, I knew he got it. Maybe.

     “Since when?”

     “Since when, what?” I dodged.

     “You’re not seeing that guy.”

     “Well, since it wasn’t anything but fun anyway-”

     “Jesus,” he huffed. He did not bother to wait for my response. “When are you gonna give this up and take meeting someone seriously?”

     “Maybe when you-”

     “Dumbest argument ever.” He flipped me off and my jaw dropped. “I at least got married. Divorced, yeah. But I was married and loved it, remember? You won’t even try for fuck’s sake.”

     “I’m just saving a whole lot of trouble for someone.”

     “Bull shit.”

      “You’re not my therapist.”

      “Considering you don’t have a therapist, I kinda am, sis.”

      “Owen, let it drop.”

      His eyes pierced the screen and hit mine and my cheeks colored all the more. It was the same look mom would deal out when we were caught avoiding chores or doing something naughty.

      “I just want you to be happy.”

      “I don’t need to be in a relationship to be happy.”

      “No, but you sure as shit deserve to be happier.” He fell quiet and I picked at a bit of dry skin on my palm. “I know this year is hard. Shit, every year has been hard.”

      I swallowed. He looped us back to a conversation from my prior year’s birthday. I had officially out-lived my mother. To think that by the time she was thirty two, Corrine had lived her whole life. The notion made all the bruises of losing her and Dad all the more fresh. Grief is strange that way. Loss does not get easier as the years pass. It doesn’t heal. No. Those are the kind of wounds that are permanent. They rear up every day and your brain just puts the pain into a box with a lid and a label to remind you. But it never goes away. Owen was the only one who knew who Mom and Dad were for us. Gran might have been her mother, but Corrine was our mom. That kind of permanence doesn’t go away. Not ever.

      Feeling wrung out and done, I told my brother that I loved him and would talk with him in a few days. Upset was not the right word. It was easy to brush others off as just not understanding the situation. With Owen, hiding was not an option. What was an option was to shove the whole conversation to the side and ignore it for a few blissful hours to focus on research. 

     “Fuck,” I sighed as I looked at my scattered pile of notebooks and the singular tab that was open on the laptop. 

     What was there really to research? I had followed the thread of Jake Thomas and of Yakov Petrov to its end. Whoever the hell it actually was in that cemetery was just as elusive as the story itself. Was there a pirate? Yup. Was there a love story right out front and center? Yes. It hurt my head all the more that both were dead and stuck in a cemetery trying to figure out how to ‘move on’ but not leave each other.

      “God, this sucks balls,” I griped.

      How dramatic would it be to torch a manuscript? Would it hurt? Would I laugh maniacally as I dropped it page by page into the open flame? Or perhaps let it spoil in the rain. Ah, even better - cast it to the wind off some mountain would be delightful, I would imagine. The writers of old must have relished in the self murder of their work, unlike what it takes today. Striking a simple delete key does not seem to have the same killing stroke.

     My vibe must’ve been casting a bat signal as a text came through from Vin, scheduling a check in in a few days. I grimaced. I was going to have to get my shit together and make my story the best ever gothic pirate romance. Fuck my life. In truth, I was at a dead end. No pun intended, of course. Guitar Jake or Yakov the Artist. There was no real way to incorporate them in the story either. Maybe they could be side characters? The dynamic could add to a comedic element. Twentieth century hedonist rock star meets nineteenth century hedonist artist from deep in his own family tree…

     “I have officially lost my shit,” I muttered as I made myself move away from my perch at the table.

     Truth be told, if my research was complete, there was no reason to stay in Frankenmuth - was there? The idea seemed wrong. The thought was frayed at the ends like it was trying to stop me from leaving. I melted into the soft cushions of the sofa. Funny idea that was - but why? My fingers found the comfort of the tangled, corded fringe of a pillow as my mind began to drift.

⭒☾   I smoothed the scratchy lace down across the bodice of the dress. The pit of my stomach bristled with opposition. I did not need another party. I did not need to dance and smile and laugh falsely. I did not need to breathe in smoke and the same conversations over yet again. I wanted to lay with my Jakub and feel his warmth around me. I wanted to read to him and him to me and listen to his breathing with the crash on the velvet shore as the sun cast its last rays to the sky. I wanted to feel his strength and bask in the heat of us.

      However, there I was, walking down the grand stairs, eyes cast to me as if I were some entity to be in awe of. Father was clapping his hands and his voice was booming across the house guests in a tone of celebration. The players began to draw their bows across their strings in a lively jig that tugged the gathering to the wide planks of the ballroom. I blew out a breath that was sour as I cast a wary eye at the backs of my guests. I took refuge with my lovely sister-in-law, Celeste, in the sitting room where voices were hushed and tempers were placid. Somehow, she had hidden a tiny book of sonnets in the folds of her skirts. We read together and kept out the voices of those around us. 

      “Have you seen him? Has he been here to call upon you?” she whispered, her voice full of conspiracy wrapped in grace.

      I nodded as I turned the page. “Been here two days and every moment he can, he is here.”

      “I thought I had caught a glimpse of him on the beach when Astrid and I were at the market this morn,” she said. Her smile was dreamy as she leaned into me. “He’s so handsome. If all you say is true, Maéva, he is a good man that you love.”

      The words shivered across my skin and tingled in my breath. Celeste was my only confidant. She was the only one that knew of how my heart fluttered and my smile sparkled any time my Jakub was near. She was the only one I knew would not cast judgment to his station in this world, as she herself was the daughter of a stablemaster. And she was just as giddy as me when it came to my tales of how we would dance in the tide as it tumbled ashore, or the little trinkets that he would bring to me from his ports of call. She would swoon just as much as I would over the pretty little rock or the pressed flower that would remind him of something I wore or made him feel.

     “Dance with me.”

      I looked up to find Matthias hovering above me, his hand, although turned up for me to take, was kept against his hip bone. I did not like his face. There was a darkness about him that he did not shake, nor did he try to truly hide. His status as a future viscount was his bank that he had overdrawn upon to make himself elevated over the rest of us. We all knew why the viscount had brought his family to this place - he was poorer than those that made their way on the beaches and on the ships of the harbor. He only presented lavishness and superiority due to the blood in his veins. Looking into his dead eyes and his flat mouth, I made my apologies that I was not well enough to dance. Celeste slid her fingers through mine to hold me close.

      “I am sorry, sir,” she said as if her tone was filled with silk. “But our Maéva feels a fever coming upon her-”

      He reached for our joined hands and separated us. “She looks plenty strong enough.”

      I searched for my father, but he was too busy clapping Matthias on with encouragement that I knew any argument would be for not. The anger toiled under my breath as I voided my expression. One dance. And then I could build upon Celeste’s fever fib. My eyes stared forward while my feet and frame moved in time with the players. I imagined my Jakub, dressed in the fine fabrics that Matthias wore, showing off the strong body and grace he had been blessed with. I saw him with his hair drawn back and his hands polished. But that was not him. No. My Jakub was wind blown and wild and hardened by work. His mind was open and his words were shaped by his experiences. That was the man I loved. Threadbare and hungry.

      Father and the viscount were close, talking with wide smiles. Their words were fast and glib looking. Father’s excitement was palpable. His hands were like two excited birds flitting around him. I gave the man I danced with no satisfaction of words. But then he gave me only silence anyway. It was as if he and I were in unvoiced agreement to pacify the patriarchs that were obviously so much more aflutter over our nearness. Soured thoughts were bending the joyful notes that filled my ears. Each face that I looked upon held anticipation and cheer. Anxiety stabbed at my feet. My limbs turned heavy as I turned away from him to give me some distance from his nearness. Celeste hurried towards me, her pretty face stretched with concern.

      “Come. The air grows too close for us here,” she was saying as Matthias reached to catch my shoulder.

      “They expect us to dance, madam,” he said, voice icy and hand heavy on my skin.

      “They can be disappointed then,” she remarked.

       My feet fumbled forward. I was thankful for the full skirt to hide such ungainly steps. My breath felt hot in my mouth and my stomach lurched. Everything felt woozy as Celeste maneuvered us through the tangle of guests. I wanted my rooms, but instead, she drew me to the parlor where she could shut away the eyes and wagging tongues but get me to sit.  

      “You do have a fever,” she said as she cast the window open.

      “No,” I said, wiping at my mouth. “I was just faint. Perhaps his sickish perfume was too close to my nose.”

      “He really is a brute. I heard Abel saying some rather unkind statements about that one.” She was pouring a few drops of wine into a tiny glass as I tried to compose myself. “We can hide here for a while. I’m sure Papa will be on the hunt for us, but I say let him hunt. I do not trust him when he is with the viscount. He changes when that man is near.”

      She was correct. Father changed in the face of bred privilege. My soul quivered across the notion. My father’s intentions were becoming very clear. It sickened me. I wondered if they were in negotiations for my hand already, or perhaps still in the discovery phase like two dogs, sniffing at each other to see if the carcass of the other was willing to submit. Tears prickled at my eyes at the thought. I had no control over this and it was as if I was a prized bitch looking to be sold. Celeste took to my side, but I could not be consoled. I wanted my Jakub. Such a simple dream to love him and be with him… ☾

      My lungs burned like I had been under water too long. I sputtered and coughed through emotions as I pushed away from the couch. I was crying. My cheeks felt hot and sticky and wet with strangled cries that I had just been having in my dream-state. I was quick to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water to cool the effects. The dreams were getting harder to take. I had tried to write them down as is, but they were like smoke through my brain, too thin and elusive to really record. Although, I was discovering that elements of these pieces were landing more often into the story. Spooky. It was the sense of my brain leaking out uncontrollably onto the proverbial page that bothered me more than the gothic pirate love story as a whole.

     I needed out of the rental for a bit. It was too late for lunch, but early supper wasn’t a horrible thing. Deciding on the diner, I packed up my bag and thought perhaps I could tuck into a corner and proof the last few pages over coffee and sandwich without having to hog a booth or table during a rush. I was correct that it was not busy, but there was a rather large, loud group that had pushed six tables together in the middle to accommodate their numbers. By the look of it, it was a men’s group that was meeting for their afternoon dose of gossip.

      I slid into the booth that the server had waved me to. My eyes rolled closed over the first sip of steaming coffee. God that was good. I tucked behind the laptop, fighting to keep my expression blank as I read over the squishy words that I was daring to call worthy of a story. I sat back as the server returned to take my order. As I handed her the menu, I noticed a set of eyes I had seen before - faded blue jean colored and a very sun weathered smile met my gaze. I grinned at the kind man from the park who had been working.

     Dinner finished, and some hot gossip taken in with hearty laughter, I decided to walk through the park by the library, and perhaps step foot inside as it had been a few days since I had looked across the books and care that Becca and the others had helped me through. Stopping at the florist, I purchased a few large plants to take along in thanks. It would be my first step in severing the connection here. I owed them so much, even if it did not amount to what I would really be using in the story. 

      “I come bearing gifts,” I announced as I struggled through the door.

     Becca was quick to help. “Oh, these are lovely.”

     “I thought a little more green in here would keep you bright,” I said, smiling across the wide range of plants and live displays that would carry the library through the winter.

     I helped her put them close to the windows by my workstation. I grinned as I looked at her. “I’m afraid I’m nearing the end of my stay,” I admitted, my fingers drifting across the huge binding of the newspapers.

     She smiled. “You’ve found what you’ve come for.”

     I nodded, though reluctance swam across my heart. “I believe that I have. You have been so good to me here.”

     Emotional outburst aside, it was going better than I planned. We chatted a bit before I set into the books that had become the path of my story that made my fingers itch, despite not really liking the plot. Perhaps I will settle into it at some point. 

      “Oh my goodness,” Becca exclaimed from behind the glass of the back office. 

      I was not the only one to sit up, prairie dog style looking for the source of upset. She was making her way towards me with a look that might have been inspiration. I glanced around to find that other patrons were just as puzzled as I was.

      “I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before, Y/n,” she proclaimed as she had eyes cast down on her phone, scrolling. “What was I thinking? Or… well. Not thinking is more like it.”

      “Uh, wanna catch me up here, Becca? I’m not from here, remember,” I laughed at her flustered state, sure she was thinking full sentences, but what was coming out made no sense.

      She grinned as she waved at me. Her exuberance washed over me and it was hard not to get caught up in it, even though I had no idea what was going on. “I have someone I need you to meet.”

Chapter 8.2: Swansong in the Graveyard

     “We need to run.”

     The words blazed in my thoughts as I watched the creature rise from my grave once more. I had come to the decision that this feminine form could not be Maéva. If the memories that had been shown to me thus far were true, then this thing could not be her. If this thing were my soulmate, there would be no hesitation within and know me for what I am - hers. And the truth would be the same for me, but all I could feel towards it was… curiosity. Perhaps anger. Jealousy, even. How such a creature could be doomed to repeat or seem to repeat the same construct of a path over and over without meaning…  Wait. What am I if that road of thought were true?  What am I in this half existence but the same as the creature - am I nothing more than goo from the ether that has been chained to a strip of ground because of some man’s greed and foul nature? For lack of a better phrase, I closed my being off from the lights of the world as the creature slipped away once more. Could something such as myself be petulant? The stray thought struck as the gate whined to its closed position.

     “We need to leave.”

     Her hands were shaking against my chest. Whatever had happened had just occurred. She had run to me still dressed in her fine cream and olive green gown. The lace puckered and draped across her breasts and dripped from her shoulders. I could not stop myself from dragging my fingers across her collarbones and up along her graceful neck. I tried to soothe her with my words and touch and kisses, but she whipped herself away from me.

     “Jakub!” she cried, her delicate fingers tucking into tight fists.

     “Just tell me then what has happened,” I said, unable to keep the edge of impatience from my tone.

     She withdrew a few steps. Her features slacked with an expression that made me quiet. “I am to marry.”

     The bottom of my very shallow world fell away. I could not understand her words that she continued to speak. Every bit of me was frozen on the notion that she was meant for another.

     “Jakub,” she whispered.

      I kissed her. It was all I could do. Our dream was to be severed. I pressed my fingertips into the plump of her blurred out cheek and the hardness of her back as if I could force her to be part of me through this mourning. She reeled back from me with a frustrated cry.

      My thoughts thinned and I found myself kneeling, hands dug into the darkness of the dirt. I begged the cosmos to allow me to see her - to see my Maéva. To know her features, her expressions, her… her soul and how it resided in her eyes. I could feel her innocence. I could feel her goodness. It danced across my fabric. But to just glimpse her eyes and know her. My chin tipped and I looked into the velvet of the night sky and the swirl of songs and begged for that scrap of memory.

      “No- no, Jakub,” she stammered. “We can leave this place - together. We can go to the east! We can build our lives there!”

     “Maéva, you don’t know what it’s like-”

     The sound she made hit me. I had insulted her.

     “I don’t know what? How to live without my family? Or do you mean to say I do not know how to live without my family’s wealth?”

     I felt a sigh bubble through my chest. “You don’t know what it truly means to be cold or hungry. Despair is not what I ever want for you.”

     “If it means we are together, I would gladly show you what strength lies in these bones of mine.” 

     She was so resolute. So sure of herself. It was the trappings of her always having what she needed that gave her that kind of confidence. I felt small for these thoughts. She possessed such knowledge, such a drive to learn - but this. What she was asking would take away the shelter that allowed her to thrive in that world.

     “Jakub - you could learn to farm, or build ships or apprentice in some other trade,” she was explaining. “And I could teach!”

     “Teach?”

     “I taught you. Surely there is no other more stubborn student!” Her laugh was pulling at my resolve. “Or I can learn to be a clerk, or even farm at your side if you are willing to have me.”

     She was reaching for me once more and I could not keep my hands from passing across the fine fabric that held a menagerie of flowers and moths and swirls of colors that I could’ve studied for days to pick out all of the finer details. She knew there was nothing I would not do for her. But this - to just run. To leave them all behind and live in this world together - as equals.

      “My mother,” I whispered into her hair.

     “Of course we will bring her,” she said without hesitation.

     Her exuberance was hard not to purchase in to.

     “You have been to Boston and New York. We can make our life there. We could be free there,” she continued on.

     I paused, knowing that no ship would be leaving any time soon. “When does your father expect this wedding?”

     “June.”

     The lake ice would have the harbor locked up for a few more weeks. If LaBeau was willing to wait to give his daughter away, that gave us the opportunity to book passage. My purse was too light to do this - to make our escape. I was already a beggar. How was I to do this without coin, without…

      She kissed me and led my hands against her fine dress. She was shivering with cold. I folded her close knowing that I needed to return her to the cage of her rooms - at least for now. I wrapped my coat around her, the bite of cold nipped at me but she allowed me to hold her close as we began to walk. Maéva was like a bird, chirping out plans and flittering with excitement. 

     The doubt attacked in the silence of my brain once it was alone. How could I care for her? Surely she would come to regret stepping so willingly into the depths of poverty and find her love turning to resentment when the realization came that her belly was empty and her body exposed to the true harshness of this world. To know that she would willingly walk into the sheer unknown only because she loved me, set my brain on needles with thoughts of unsureness. She trusted that I would provide what I could and in trade she would care for me. Though these lands of the new world were framed as obtainable dreams, that was still only true for those of wealth. Maéva would grow tired of the scrabble to just survive on the daily means of hard labor. Perhaps I should walk away and let her to her path of husband and titles and …

      My gaze turned to the way the tops of the trees bent under the angry gust of wind. It matched my own thoughts. I had entertained leaving her behind? I wanted to leave her to a fate chosen by her father? If an entity such as myself could feel shame, I am sure I was feeling it the only way I knew how. The waves of color that thundered around me, billowing into storm clouds, were gathering to punish me. Fun was on them - apparently all of this was punishment across all time.

     I had watched the ice slowly crush against the shore. Maéva fought with me to take her purse and purchase three tickets on the first ship that could carry us east. It was going to be hard enough to try to get her aboard without recognition, but to be forced to use her own money - it was not the start to our lives that I wanted and it bruised my ego in a way that was difficult to swallow. After years of watching my mother struggle to keep us alive, then adding my hands to the work, it was beyond hard to take her money, no matter the cause. I had fought my way through this life. I would fight my way to get away with her, even if it meant I had to take her as a married woman - take her from that rogue of a man her father deemed better.

     It was bitter. My need to stand in our way because of some perceived notion that I had to be a man for her was dragging upon us, threatening the tender thread of a chance that waited for us. What a fool I was.

     Another grand ball celebrating the engagement roused me from my sulking, for that was what I really was doing - acting like a child who had been scolded and paddled. I snuck up onto the side patio, staying to the shadows with my eyes searching for Maéva. There were musicians playing and people moving around with huge smiles that oozed privilege. I saw LaBeau waving his arms around and acting like he was the rooster on the field while his daughter stood at another man’s side. I hated it - the sight of that man, that Matthias, being so close to her made a rage boil in my belly that I could not tolerate. 

     Their hands met and he guided her through a dance that made the guests of the party clap their hands and smile their most beautiful smiles. No smile was upon Maéva’s mouth, however. Quite the opposite. What more, Matthias mirrored her hard expression. I watched as she turned, full of grace, full of beauty while her father beamed in his greed and lust for title for the family. And the man who was equally bright - that must have been the viscount. He was practically leering over the merchant’s purse that swung so heavy at his side and dripped from the walls of his marvelous manor house. They were the mechanism that drove this union, surely.

     I caught Maéva’s eye, but withdrew deeper into the shadows. Amongst the smiles and delicate music, I solidified my presence as an outlier. I would free her from this fate that her father wanted more for himself than for her. To know that he would damn her for a few scraps of veneration was sickening. Was his wealth not enough, must he really have a title to put before his name as well? 

     Pathetic.

     The veil of clouds streaked across the velvet of night, curling and swirling through the air like the smoke from Monsieur LaBeau’s fine pipe. I could feel the anger I had felt across the expanse of time. If that was a lesson that I needed to learn from, then in my stubbornness, I never learned to let that malice subside. I could feel it still bubble and toil on my echoed thoughts.

     I stole away from the manor house like a stray cat turned away from its supper. I lingered on the edges of the beach, not wanting to be seen by anyone for fear of seeing the toil of my struggle over her. I had sequestered her coins under the floor of my bed. I would collect those coins and find a ship to the east coast. It would be easier to hide in a city. Perhaps we could get to Savannah. I had listened to a fellow deck hand ramble for hours about the warmth and wild beauty of the near tropical port. Or maybe Philadelphia. There were many, many people there making hiding amongst them easier.

     I knew she would be in the market the following day with her matron. We’d found it easy enough for me to shadow her for a chance to talk. It was always near the baker when Leila would have her attention pulled enough away from her charge that we could sneak away for long enough for the woman to take no notice. The morning found me lingering amongst the fringes of the market square, my stomach empty. Mother had used the last few coins for medicine for the woman next door. The babe had been sick for days. Mother had been trying to apply the typical remedies, but the fever was slow to break and it was obvious that the child's needs were beyond her hands. She bartered where she could, but when there was nothing left to barter with, she would turn to what her body may earn. I would be sure to beg the stable master and the blacksmith for work, even if it meant for a few scraps to get us through a few days.

      And there it was once more. I hid this from Maéva. This aspect of struggle. I wondered if I did it to protect her or keep her blind? It did not matter. She would hear me once more lay out what was ahead, but I knew in my heart that she would not listen. She would have to learn hunger and need through experience and I would have to keep my tongue about me as she waded through the mire in hopes that she would not wake and realize the horrible mistake that she was making on loving me.

     Close to midday, I was near giving up that she would arrive, and getting more frustrated as I knew I should be finding work for my hands, not standing idle. Finally, she appeared, fresh and bright amongst the damp and dingy pier. I fought my heart from just running to her. How foolish would that be. No. I waited and quietly watched as she looked over the wares she was there to procure for another day in the grand house. Her matron was already looking thin of patience. I wonder if Maéva had deliberately worn her through before even reaching the market for the sole purpose of this visit. I bided my time, moving slowly and making sure to look at the different vendors before stopping once more before the baker’s stall. My stomach stabbed and complained. I was fighting the urge to snatch a lump of bread that had been cut apart and tossed to the side as stale as it was easier to feed it to the birds than a human in need. I dug my fist deeper into my torn pocket in hopes that it would keep me from the easy notion of theft. She approached, relieving my thoughts of my hollow belly.

      “Good day,” she whispered, hiding her mouth in her outstretched arm.

      I smiled and nodded as I looked for the matron. “Talk?”

     I moved away as was our warrant in such affairs. I would find her once more closer to the beach once she was able to slip the eye of Leila. There was a spot under the well trod boards of the pier that was in between the massive pylons where the boulders sheltered the land. I waited, breathing in the soured, fish riddled air. Maéva appeared in all of her faceless brightness, but I could feel her smile radiating off all of her body. It was always the same without fail whenever she came near. I could only imagine what I actually looked like, but on the inside - I swooned over her nearness.

     She took my hand and I leaned in to kiss her mouth, but I stopped before the sweet crush touched my lips. “Will you want to go to Savannah?” I whispered.

     Half of a breath later, her arms were thrown around my neck and her lips to mine with a trill of laughter. I found myself caught up in her exuberance. My love for her was absolutely consuming and yet so strong that I felt as if I could sustain on our love alone.

     Coyotes chirping in the distance drew my eye back to the present. The creature was once again laying upon my grave. It was torture not knowing the significance of this being. Or perhaps it was the anguish of knowing this lingering was my form of purgatory. I was languishing across centuries of time that I should have been with her - with my Maéva. 

Yeah. So where do we go from here? 💚

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[sparrowofthedawnsworld]

Princess Of The Prisoner - Pirate!Jake Kiszka AU

A/N: I’m BACK!! And god, is it good to be. I’ve missed you all so, so much. I thank you all for your patience and endless support. You all mean the world to me <3 I hope you all enjoy this - finally. I love you! (Only lightly edited for the moment).

WARNINGS: Semi-light Violence, bl00d, unconsciousness, fighting, use of weapons.

This is MAJOR 18+ Minors DNI! AT ALL. Bondage, kn!fe play, edging/orgasm denial, light overstimulation, fingering (F), oral (F&M receiving), choking, slapping, degradation, unprotected sex (be smart, be safe!)

Masterlist

•••

“I am no where near equipped for what you are asking of me.” You speak firmly to your father, fighting the intense urge to stomp your foot against the shiny, glassy floor like that of a child.

“If I didn’t see you fit, I would not send you.” Your father says to you, sounding just as sure of his plan as ever.

As always.

“I will not be used as bait for one of your enemies.” You straighten your back, holding his blazing and frustrated stare. “You’ve lost your sanity, father.”

“I have not asked you, I have told you what you are to do.” He remains stubborn and firm. “I expect him here no later than morning. Don’t disappoint me, dearest. Now, you best be off.”

Your face twists in the purest form of anger as you turn away from your father to leave him be at his throne. You storm across the palace, back to your own room.

“How could he put me in such a dangerous position?” you mutter to yourself, gathering up a new dress to change into for your days journey.

“Sending me off to find some god forsaken ship, to hunt down a man for him,” you continue to ramble to no one other than yourself and the over-decorated walls.

Or, so you think.

“Let me guess-“ The cook of your palace stands in your doorway. You have grown quite close with her, given she is one of the few women around anymore. “-You’re being sent off on a mission, per your father’s orders again?”

“Yes,” you sigh heavily, undoing your corset. “I must be off shortly. I’m essentially being used as bait for the captain of some ship, Jacob Kiszka.”

Her eyes look as though they are going to fall out of her head, “Do you not realize who that is, Princess?”

“I haven’t the first clue who he is, no,” you admit.

All you know is that his ship would be arriving sooner rather than later, and Jacob is after a specific sword of your father’s. You are not sure why the sword is so significant, all you know is that Jacob is indeed after it.

“I’m sure he’s some gross old man-“

“Far from it, actually. He’s quite young if I remember correctly,” she informs you, laughing lightly at your shocked expression.

“Young?” you scoff in disbelief. “There is no possible way…”

“Oh, but there is. He could only be a few years older than you,” she continues and laughs lightly at you, unintentionally adding to your frustration more. “Not to say that I am at all on board with your father using you, but I understand why he’s asked you. He’s just a young lad.”

“This is just absolutely ridiculous,” you huff. “Sending me off to capture some boy, who could probably still kill me with one hand, regardless of age!” Your arms flail around you in dramatic emphasis. “How do you even know this information about him?”

“He’s actually quite well known,” she answers, eyes falling to the floor. “But… how I know him personally is not relevant.”

A heavy silence falls over the two of you for a moment.

“I know very well that your father has taught you to be an incredible fighter,” she speaks up, softly breaking the silence. “…Perhaps if you’re truly so worried, you should take another man with you. Daniel, maybe?”

You think on her suggestion for a moment, ultimately deciding it isn’t a bad idea after all.

“Will you please retrieve him for me?”

“Of course, Princess.” She nods to you politely. “I should not distract you any further. Good luck to you, dear.. I shall send for Daniel for you at once.”

“Thank you,” you mumble under your breath, sending her a rather forced smile.

Gathering the rest of your things, you are going off to find Daniel yourself, but you realize he has finally come to you, by the soft knock at your door.

“Princess,” he greets with a charming nod of his head and a smile that can undoubtedly melt the coldest souls. “It was brought to me that you are in need of my assistance.”

“Yes,” you start, casting him your undivided attention, just as he is giving to you. “My father wants me to capture this Captain…Jacob Kiszka. He is after something of his and Father wants him taken care right away.”

“With all respect, Princess, shouldn’t you be demanding he send someone else to do such a job?” Daniel’s face turns immensely concerned and fearful on your behalf. “Jacob is a very skilled and clever man. You have no business-“

“-I’ve tried to change his mind all I can, but you know how he is,” you speak warily, cutting him off. “But that’s why I’ve asked for you. I would love for you to join me.”

Daniel’s eyes widen and the Adams apple of his throat bobbed as he swallowed thickly.

“Princess, I truly don’t think this is-“

“-I have no other choice, Daniel!” You firmly cut him off once again. “Now… Are you coming, or are you going to stay here as though you are some sort of coward?”

Daniel is far from a coward and you know that without a doubt, but you have to convince him somehow.

“When are we to depart?” He caves, speaking through a sigh of defeat.

“Right now.” You nod curtly, grabbing your belongings and walking right past him.

He mumbles to himself from behind you, taking long strides to keep up alongside you, “What have I gotten myself into…?”

“Just look at it as an adventure, Daniel,” you jest in attempts to lighten the mood.

“And suppose one of us gets hurt? What shall happen then?” Daniel questions rapidly, speeding up to reach the door of the palace before you. “Ah! Do not dare to touch that door.”

“I am about to capture a thief and you are concerned about me opening but a single door?” you chide lightly, cocking an eyebrow as he opens the door for you anyway.

You step out first, waiting patiently for him to follow after you.

“And stop thinking in such worrisome ways,” you add, once he joins at your side. “You are quite frankly putting a thorn in my side.”

Your light teasing brings a small smile to Daniel’s face and he huffs a soft laugh before changing the subject entirely.

“How would you like to travel, princess?”

“On foot,” you tell him, taking off in the direction of the area in which Jacob and his ship are suspected to be coming to.

He looks at you with shock filled eyes, “Alright, you are officially out of all of your senses.”

“It is not that far from here,” you roll your eyes, the pair of you walking farther away from the palace. “They’re going to anchor at the closest point they can, but far enough away as to not be perceived from the palace.”

“And how can you be so sure?” He’s full of never ending questions.

“Enough questions, Daniel, seriously,” you sigh in slight annoyance. “It would be in your best interest to simply trust me.”

The two of you walk in silence for quite some time, taking in the nature around you and putting mental marks on things that you walked by, as to not leave any chance of getting lost on your journey back.

“How much farther are we going, Princess?” Daniel breaks down and asks yet another question.

You open your mouth to answer him, but the sounds of various voices shouting about, swiftly interrupt you.

“Stop.” You place your hand out to stop Daniel in his tracks beside to you. “Voices. I hear voices. Do you hear them, Daniel?”

He looks around, listening intently and after a moment or two, the same shouting fills his ears as well.

“I hear them.” Daniel nods, confirming that you are not losing your sanity.

Quickly, you put your plan of attack into motion.

“Daniel, whatever you do, do not leave my side.” You tell him, giving a curt nod as you made your way towards the tree line that followed the edge of the river bank.

The closer you get, the louder the voices become and the more your nerves threaten to overtake you.

You and Danny make your way through the trees, stopping just out of view of the surprisingly nice ship haphazardly docked just before the shoreline.

A beautiful, fit and young man treads his way through the shallow water and up on to the sand, looking far more put together than the rest of the crew surrounding him.

“That must be him…” you point towards him, Daniel’s eyes following your index finger. He nods, confirming your guess.

“Princess, please, let me take care of this?” Daniel pleads quietly. “There are far too many of them to take on alone.”

“Nonsense. I shall do what I was sent to do,” you insist. “We must figure out how to capture him without the rest witnessing. They will surely come looking, if they see us leave with him.”

“Not to mention that we walked here,” Daniel reminds you. “I suppose that means I will be carrying him back, surely?”

“You have always been incredibly smart,” you tease and answer his question all at once.

“Now, then! Now, then!”

Soft gasps are shared between you and Daniel, as who you presume was Jacob, starts to loudly gather in his crew.

“Now that I have the undivided attention of all of you dandy crewmen, I shall be off in attempts to get in to the King’s palace at once!” he begins to explain, voice somehow much louder and firmer than you expected it to be. “I hate to break one’s heart, but all of you are to return to the ship and remain there until I return! I cannot risk my plans being tampered with. Am I clear to all of you?!”

They all express their understanding in almost perfect unison.

“That will be all, then! Please, return to the ship right away!”

Like well trained animals, everyone files back to the ship as Jake stands around to watch on, ensuring not one person is staying behind.

He is so breathtaking… It almost drowns out the hatred that you already hold for him.

You shake your intrusive thoughts of the captain away, putting on your brave face to continue on with a new plan.

“Come, Daniel!” you yell in a whisper, creeping your way back out of the trees.

“Come on!”

Once you both make it out, he begins his frantic questioning once more, “What ever are we doing now, princess?!”

“Hush,” you silence him. “We must go back towards the palace. I believe it best that we ambush him there.”

He simply shakes his head in understanding, glancing over his shoulder quickly to be sure no one has spotted either of you and is following.

You stop at the bushes near the entrance of the palace, breathing heavily and shaking your head in exasperation as the two of you duck down out of sight.

Daniel lets out a frustrated and tired huff. “We are back where we started, princess. I’m starting to question your oh-so elaborate planning.”

“You are being such a sore thumb today. I beg of you to just do as I say.” You send him a pleading look.

Silence fills the air around the two of you for a while, until the cracking of rocks beneath boots captures Daniel’s attention.

“Princess,” he nudges at your shoulder. “The Captain is upon us.”

You peak through the flowers and leaves, eyeing him as he makes his way carefully up the path.

You catch yourself gawking at him again; the way he walks, his long tresses and the beautiful dagger hanging from a strap across his chest.

“Your majesty, please,” Daniel begs, knocking you from your trance. “Please, tell me what you want me to do.”

“I… I want you to wait until he walks by us. If we stay here, he won’t see us right away. Once he passes, we will attack from behind. I need him unconscious,” you explain quickly. “Once he is unconscious, I will tie his hands and you shall help me carry him to the cells.”

Just as you finish and Daniel gives you his quick, verbal understanding, Jake passes through the gates and bushes, slowing his pace and ducking every so often to avoid possibly being seen.

“I will tell you when,” you whisper into Daniel’s ear and he nods once.

The captain walks a few more feet up the pathway, ducking down behind a rose bush and unsheathing his dagger from its case.

Daniel copies him, pulling his own dagger from its casing.

“Now,” you mutter with unbridled urgency.

Daniel has Jake plummeting to the ground within seconds. You watch on for only a moment, before fear takes over and you feel the need to join him.

Groans and curses are being hurled between them, swings and bone crushing punches being thrown along with their noises of pain.

Jake holds his dagger backwards, swinging the handle towards the side of Daniel’s head.

“NO!”

You bolt towards them, taking Jake to the ground upon your collision - sparing Daniel of the bone-crushing blow that was mere seconds away from colliding with the temple of his head.

Daniel recovers rather quickly, throwing you off of Jake and taking your place on top of him.

One strong and well-timed swing from Danial is all it takes and the Captain falls limp against the ground as he goes unconscious.

Daniel falls away from him, chest heaving and covered in small droplets of blood here and there. His hand clutches over his chest, as he fights to recenter himself.

“Are you alright?” you ask frantically, pulling the rope from around your waist and tying it securely around the Captain’s hands.

“Just perfect, Princess,” Daniel chuckles sarcastically, dusting himself off as he stands to his feet. “Here, allow me.”

“I think not.” You swat his hand away. “Rest for another moment. I will take care of this.”

Once you have the knots tied, you stand up and let Daniel take over again. He scoops him up like a rag doll, throwing him over his shoulder as though the Captain weighs little to nothing.

You bend down and pick up Jake’s dagger, shoving it down into your pocket and following after Daniel as he starts making his way up towards the palace.

“How long do you think he will stay unconscious?” you ask, making your way through the lower levels of the palace.

“Not much longer, I’m afraid.” Daniel answers, stopping at the large cell at the end of the cold, dimly lit hallway.

“Just put him on the bed. I shall take it from here.” You order rather gently, confident that he can’t hurt you from behind the bars of the cell.

“As you wish.”

Daniel drops him down onto the bed and unties him carefully, tossing the rope to the side thoughtlessly as he goes.

Just as he finishes Jake lets out a low groan of discomfort and Daniel quickly makes his was back out of the cell.

You close the door and lock it, watching Jake for a moment to find that he is still mostly out of it, when there isn’t another sound to be heard from him.

“Do you wish for me to inform your father that we have the Captain?”

“No!” You look up to Daniel with panic-filled eyes. “I will tell him myself. He doesn’t know that you accompanied me and I would rather him not.”

“Understandable, Princess,” Daniel says. “I shall keep my doings to myself.”

“I am most grateful for you,” you smile up at him, placing a gentle hand on his bicep. “Thank you.”

Removing your hand from his arm, Daniel brings it up to his lips in a gentle kiss as he bows, “You are most welcome, your majesty.”

He releases your hand, standing upright and beginning his way down the hallway.

Before he gets too far, he turns back to face you with a serious look. “Princess?”

You whip around to face him also, “Yes, Daniel?”

“If anything is to happen and you need my assistance again, you know where I reside.”

Not awaiting an answer - knowing you understand without having to say so out loud - he disappears through the large door. The loud sounds of it closing sends an eerie echo around the concrete walls and floor.

You slowly turn back towards the cell, watching and listening to Jake intently for any signs of movement or noise.

“Bloody hell,” Jake’s voice rumbles in a low groan, his arms struggling to push his weight away from the bed he is sprawled across.

He finally gets himself upright, looking around in a pure panic at his surroundings.

Stumbling up to his feet, he spins around and freezes in place when his eyes land upon you.

“Oh, well is this not just lovely?” you speak rather tauntingly. “The captain is finally awake.”

“And you are?” Jake saunters up to the door, rough hands wrapping around the cold bars.

“Princess of The Garden, at- well… I am not at your service,” you stumble over your formalities, forgetting that you owe him not a single one. “Not much of a kingdom we have around here, more so a small, royal family on secluded land.”

“I am very well aware of practically all of that.” Jake bites matter-of-factly, full of anger.

There are a few moments of intense silence, the loud and unsteady breathing from Jake being the only constant sound.

“Would you be so kind as to remind me how I managed to get here?” Jake questions bitterly, clearly trying to contain his rage.

“Me,” you smile at him with hardly contained pride. “Well, me and another accomplice.”

“Quite weak of you to have to bring a companion along just to capture me.” Jake smirks, his face noticeably contorting in discomfort as he assesses with his fingertips, the bruises that Daniel had left on his jaw. “Someone ought to teach you how to fight.”

“You know nothing about my fighting skills,” you say dryly, sending him a death glare through the bars of the cell. “I would be a fool to travel alone, regardless of how well I fight.”

“You seem to be a bit of a fool anyway,” Jake chuckles, glancing up at you with bold eyes.

If you could smack him across his careless mouth, you absolutely would.

“Letting your father send you into such danger…” Jake shakes his head, giving you a judgmental once-over. He turns and walks towards the hard bed in the corner. “You aren’t cut out for such violence.”

“I wish you would stop speaking as if you know me.” Your arms cross over your chest. It isn’t a very good response, but it is as good of one as you can seem to gather. “You know absolutely nothing about me.”

Jake ignores the comment entirely.

“If I may ask, why are you still lingering, princess?”

The name falling of his tongue is like a drug. The most addictive drug one could find. Somehow he makes the most flattering and important name, sound so degrading.

You stand frozen in place for a few moments too long, struggling to find a genuine reason for staying around - of which you do not have.

He hums to himself, head tilting back slightly, “Just as I thought. You haven’t any good reason.”

You open your mouth to attempt some sort of protest.

“If I may, your majesty,” Jake stands to his feet and saunters back to the door. “You are quite the gem. So exquisite and beautiful…” he trails off for a moment, a sly grin spreading over his lips as he looks over you. “Too bad you are too feisty and disobedient for my liking.”

Your whole body begins to boil with various emotions; you’re flustered, angry and immensely intrigued by him. He is setting you ablaze in a foul, but irresistible way.

“And… you are much too disrespectful for my taste,” you seethe, faltering for a moment so short, you hope it goes unnoticed. “Speaking to royalty in such a despicable manner…”

“And yet, the royalty herself, seems to be enjoying it.” Jake grins wickedly.

You can’t tell if it’s your body’s attempt to be intimidating, or seeking closer proximity to Jake. Regardless, without really thinking, you step forward, “What makes you believe for a second that I am enjoying any part of this?”

“Many reasons, Princess…” Jake starts, speaking low and hushed. “You’ve taken at the very least five steps closer to this door. You could have left the second your… ‘accomplice’ dropped me in here.”

“You are terribly-“

“-Quiet, Princess. I don’t take well to being interrupted.” Jake cuts you off abruptly, holding up a single finger that you can not seem to tear your eyes away from. “I would almost say you enjoy being spoken to this way, don’t you? Everyone gets tiresome with constantly hearing praises… And I’m sure praise is all you know, is it not?”

“Perhaps.” The word leaves your mouth bitter and clipped. He is very much right - you both know that very well.

“Mhm, as I thought.” Jake grips the bars of the door above his head, leaning forward as far as he can go. “You know… I could show you so much more. Make you feel so much more.”

“And what could you possibly be hinting at with such words, Captain?” you question, attempting to throw his title back at him the same he had yours. Only to sound much more breathy than you intend.

“If only I had the keys to open this-“ He gestures to the large door, the only thing keeping the two of you separated. “-I could show you much better than I could ever tell you, your majesty.”

“Never in a million years would I consider letting you out,” you scoff, shoving the key that is now damp from your sweating hands, back into your pocket.

“Who said anything about letting me go?” Jake asks you. “Just join me. You have the key to leave whenever you so please.”

“And… if I do choose to join you…?” You narrow your eyes, taking in his blown out pupils and all the little details surrounding them.

“Then I shall do just as I have said and show you things you will never forget.” Jake promises lowly, leaning in closer. “Things you will never want to forget,” he adds.

Your faces are as close as they can possibly be, you can feel the warmth of his breath as he speaks to you.

Without once looking away from him, you hastily retrieve the key from your pocket and unlock the door.

Jake steps back, allowing you the proper space to slide the door open just enough to squeeze your body through and get into the cell with him.

You turn around and close the door, closing your eyes for a split second in attempts to slow your pounding heart and process what you have just done.

As you turn around to finally face Jake, he immediately outstretches his hand towards you and bows before you ever-so-slightly.

Hesitantly, you place your shaking, sweating hand in his and he brings it up to his lips, “‘Tis quite the pleasure, Princess.”

Jake places the first kiss to the top of your hand, holding your stunned gaze. He shifts his hold up to your wrist, his lips following and placing another kiss higher up.

He continues the same actions, kissing all the way up your arm, until his hand reaches your shoulder and his face is inches from yours.

Slowly, he backs you up until you can feel the uncomfortable firmness of metal bars against your back.

“You are truly quite the brave one for joining me.” Jake whispers against your ear. “Just to make things sort of even, I fully plan to tease you until you’re begging and pleading for my mercy.”

“And what leads you to believe I would ever beg someone like you?” You tilt your head back defiantly.

Jake only smirks In amusement, “Is that a challenge?”

“If you can make me beg, I will let you go and tell my father you didn’t dock where he expected,” you bet with him rather smugly… and stupidly.

“My, my. The princess is going to beg me like a whore and lie to her father?” Jake tsks with a faux disappointed shake of his head. “It seems I have corrupted the sweet, royal, princess already. And suppose your accomplice -as you called him- goes back and tells him…? What lie should be grand enough to cover us then?”

His nose is practically brushing against your own, a tension so unbearable further blooming between the two of you.

“T-That is not his place. My father didn’t know that I took him, nor will he. I asked Daniel not to speak of his hand in helping me, or even that we have you,” you inform him truthfully. “It was my duty to capture you and bring you here, not his. I shall be the one to tell my father what it is he must know.”

“Well, then, I suppose I can have my way with you.” Jake purrs, teasing his lips over yours. “Is that what you want, your majesty?”

“So many words and promises, but you’ve yet to show me a thing.” You just barely chase after his lips.

Grabbing each side of your face with both of his large and calloused hands, Jake connects his lips with yours roughly.

It takes you a moment to catch up to his pace, especially with losing every bit of air from your lungs within the very second his lips met yours. Your tongues move against each other, fighting for dominance as whimpers flutter from you and into his warm mouth.

He pulls away, breathless and practically hissing out his next words, “Sweet, sweet princess. You do not know a bit of what you have in store for yourself. Stay right there.”

Jake steps back from you with a finger pointed to the floor where you stand, bending down to pick up a lengthy piece of rope that you and Daniel had him tied up with not so long ago.

“Do you trust me?” There’s a twinkle in his eyes, amusement behind them as he asks you the ridiculous question.

You stare down at the rope outstretched before you - shocked, but you remain shamefully aroused by it all the same.

“Trust- trust you? You are nothing but a complete stranger,” your voice wavers.

“Nonsense. We have spent at least few hours in one another’s presence, now, haven’t we?” His crooked smile sends waves of heat to your core. “Stranger? yes, in some sense. But I’m not a complete stranger anymore.”

You drop your eyes from his, back down to the rope in his hands. Jake pushes it out a little closer to you, eyes deeply studying your cautious but curious face.

Slowly, you lift your hands up and lay your wrists over top of his hands, looking up at him in question as if to say, ‘is this right?’

Jake holds your burning stare and starts to wrap the rope around your wrists, binding them together tightly, but still comfortably somehow.

“Outstanding,” Jake hums, walking off to a corner where another small piece of rope has been discarded.

“Just one last thing,”

Jake makes his way back over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder and pushing you back a few steps until your back collides with the cold metal bars.

His hand travels from your shoulder, down your arm, until it reaches the rope around your wrists. Grabbing it, he watches your breath quicken as he lifts your arms up and over your head, securing them to the bars with a second piece of rope.

“Mm-“ you clear your throat nervously. “-And how do you presume you will be able to remove my dress in such a position?”

“Lovely of you to inquire,” Jake smiles wildly, pressing his body against yours and leaning in closer to your ear. “I just so happened to see this-“ his hand travels the corseted curve of your side, dipping into your pocket. “-the handle of my dagger shining, while you were standing outside the cell. Not only are you a princess, but a little thief.”

“Well- I...” you stutter weakly, feeling mindless for forgetting to leave it with Daniel.

“You what?” Jake presses, biting at the shell of your ear.

Your only response is your labored breathing, unable to form an intelligible response.

He unsheathes his beautiful dagger from your pocket, resting it over your chest.

“You think too little of my schemes, princess.” He places a kiss over your nose. “I already planned to take my dagger back to use just for this moment. Why take your clothes off with my tired hands, when I could cut them off?”

“Jake,” his name rushes out of your lungs in a heavy sigh.

He grabs you by the waist, turning you around to face the bars and skillfully cut the strings of your corset.

Turning you back around to face him, he pulls it off of your body with ease and continues on with cutting away at your other garments.

Each piece is slowly pulled from you, neatly cut and haphazardly tossed to the side by Jake’s calloused hands.

As he yanks the last piece away, you are then completely naked before him - eyes never lifting to meet his burning gaze upon you.

“Breathtaking, your majesty,” Jake all but whispers, seemingly a little lost in the site that he is beholding.

You draw in a deep breath, exhaling it even slower than the slowness at which you had taken it in, “I’m sure I look far more suitable than anyone you have ever laid with.”

Upon your overweening remark, your eyes finally meet with his and you swear you see fire flash within them.

“How witty of you, princess,” Jake snaps sarcastically, pressing his body into yours. “Haughty of you to assume you are not the one that I would graciously turn away.”

It stings, but somehow you know he doesn’t mean it. Part of you hoped he didn’t, at least.

“Your mouth is foul and full of disrespect,” you snap quietly; silently wishing your hands were free, so that you can act on the resurfacing urge to smack him.

Jake stays silent, bringing the handle of his dagger down against your stomach and slowly dragging it down. The golden handle makes goosebumps form across your skin, your hips writhing about ever so slightly in anticipation.

Just when the end of his handle is close to your heat, he jerks it away entirely.

Instead, he dips his own finger down farther to feel the wetness pooling between your legs himself.

Jake glances up at you with wild eyes, flashing you a wicked smile. “The princess, so proper and poised and innocent… soaked as though she’s dipped into the river.”

Adjusting his careful hold around the blade, Jake lays the handle right where it had stopped before he pulled it away. He continues its slow descent down to your clit, where it halts to rub in the slowest, softest circles.

“Oh, Jake,” you gasp, pushing your hips harder against it.

“Oh, that’s just lovely,” Jake smirks, leaning in to place kisses over your exposed chest. “My name sounds beautiful coming from that pretty little mouth.”

He uses his own hips to hold yours in place, so he that can move the handle of the dagger at whatever pressure or speed he so desires.

“Let me hear it again, princess… ‘Jake,’” he repeats his own name to you, as though you don’t know it.

“Jake,” he repeats again.

Trying to hold onto your defiance and composure, you harshly bite at the inside of your mouth to keep from doing as he asked.

“This won’t do at all, your majesty,” Jake clicks his tongue, moving the handle in faster circles, while his other wraps around your throat. “Did I not say I want to hear you again? Come now, let me hear what pretty noises you can make. I’m sure you’re fantastic at it, little whore.”

He presses the handle harder into your bundle of nerves, drawing firmer circles against you. It’s untamable; the noise that erupts from your lungs, echoing through the cold cell and likely even through the long hallway.

“So beautiful. Keep going…” Jake encourages, tilting his head back as he watches on to your pleasure.

Jake leans forward, his free hand securing itself around your jaw to tilt your head to the side. His lips meet with your neck, biting roughly at the tender skin and soothing the sting with the softness of his tongue.

A soft laugh floats out of him each time you whine or struggle against him and the rough ropes that secure you in place.

“Jake,” you whimper through a labored exhale. The feeling of sweet release is already beginning to bloom in the pit of your stomach.

“Is the princess getting close?” Jake questions with a sly cadence. “Already, your majesty?”

You choose not to answer him, in light of climbing to the peak of your orgasm without chance of interruption.

Alas, Jake is the least bit stupid.

“Are you trying to fool me, princess?” Jake asks lowly, slowing the circles that the handle of his dagger are making.

The urge to relent and beg him is already far greater than you anticipated, but you are determined to stand your ground.

“Not trying to fool you, only avoiding the act of begging a thief,” you speak breathlessly.

“That’s a shame,” Jake grins, trailing his hand down your body to your arousal. A single finger plays at your entrance, “I would let you cum if you were not so hell bent on being a stubborn little brat.”

Just to antagonize you further, he sinks his finger inside you, purposefully curling it upwards just shy of the sweet spot within you.

“Mm…”

A tight lipped whimper tumbles out of you, your body arching into his touch ever-so-slightly.

“Oh? Do you like that, princess?” Jake taunts, looking down the bridge of his nose as he watches you. “You love having attention on your pretty little pussy, don’t you?”

“I…” You aren’t really sure what you had planned to say, or even what you want to say. All thoughts are either jumbled, or lost entirely.

“You what?” Jake pries, sliding the handle of the dagger through your folds to collect more of your wetness.

The second the handle returns to your throbbing bundle of nerves, something snaps inside of you.

“Jake,” you whine, tugging at your restraints despite the incessant burn of the rope. “Jake, please!”

“There it is.” Jake’s smile is pleased and cocky.

Feeling ever so gracious, he pushes in a second finger and deepens their rhythmic thrusts.

Jake presses his lips to the corner of your open mouth, “Tell me how good it feels, princess. Tell me.”

“I-it feels s-so good. Feels so good,” you stutter, tempted to turn your head and capture his lips in a kiss, all on your own accord. “Please!”

“Please?” He parrots mockingly. “Please what, your majesty?”

The feelings of your impending climax finally starts to build once again. This time, you are not going to give it up.

“Please let me cum!” You nearly sob, rushing every single word from your mouth. “Please, captain, I’ll do whatever you want… J-just please let me cum.”

“Give it to me, then,” Jake demands. “Right now.”

The band of pleasure breaks within you, sending you into an earth-shattering spiral of bliss that you could not have ever prepared yourself for.

Your knees buckle beneath you, leaving the ropes binding your wrists to be the only thing holding you up. The sting of the rope not even registering, as cuts and burns surely form around your wrists.

“What a good girl you are for me, princess,” Jake praises you, removing his fingers from you first to wrap his arm around your body, holding you up.

“J-Jake,” you choke out, squirming in his hold against the overstimulation that he was beginning to cause you. “I- It-s-“

“Shhh,” he silences you, a little reluctantly pulling his dagger away from your core. “I know, princess.”

Studying your face, he takes in your half-lidded eyes and flushed cheeks. The slightest bit of pity took over him.

Jake tucks the dampened handle of his dagger beneath your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “Will you be a good girl if I untie you? Hm?”

“Y-yes, sir- I mean, Captain,” you answer him, correcting yourself once more just for good measure. “Yes, Captain.”

Flipping the weapon around, he drags the tip of the dagger down your throat with only enough pressure to make it resemble a feather, making your breath hitch in your chest. Fear starts to rise back up inside you, along with adrenaline. The combination is intoxicating in a dangerous way.

“Will you truly?” Jake cocks a single eyebrow at you.

The sharp tip moves across your chest and down your stomach, goosebumps forming as you shudder.

“Yes! Yes,” you promise, breathing uneven and more labored than it has been so far.

The tip dips into your belly button, eliciting some sort of choked whimper from your throat.

Jake smirks at that, “Feels nice, doesn’t it?” He begins to trail it back up your body, the same way it had descended down.

You’re struck silent, unable to manage a single word.

Finally reaching your bindings, with two flicks of the dagger, the ropes fall from your wrists.

Your body immediately collapses forward into Jake’s. He tosses his dagger to the floor with a high-pitched clink, just in time to catch you.

“Falling at my feet so soon, princess?” Jake snickers, hauling you back up and guiding you to the bed.

“You forget yourself,” you scoff, clearly displaying your distaste for the thought of being at his feet. “One place you will never find me is at your feet.”

“No, your majesty-“ Jake tangles a hand in your hair, yanking your head back. “-You have forgotten yourself.”

Letting go of your hair, he hastily works to undo the buttons adorning his vest, pulling it away to be discarded onto the dirty floor of the cell - his shirt following directly after.

“What happened to being my good girl?” Jake inquires, stepping closer to you, his face mere inches from yours.

Your response is quick and confident, “Being your good girl is only applicable if you’re pleasing me, Captain.”

“Oh, is it, now?” Jake places his hand over your sternum, sliding it up until it splays around your throat and tightens there. “Is that not what I just did? Please you?” You struggle to draw in air as his grip stays unrelenting, his hold never once wavering as you slowly sink to your knees. “And you’re so needy and desperate that it still wasn’t good enough for you?”

He leans down to be eye level with you as he fires questions at your flushed face, “You’ll take what I feel so inclined to give you, your majesty.”

Jake releases his grip, standing straight up as he watches down on you, gasping to refill your burning lungs with air.

While you work on regaining some form of control over your own body and mind, Jake begins removing the rest of his clothes.

You look up, watching him attentively through your lashes. The perfections of his body are not lost on you.

“Perhaps we should try this again,”

Jake suggests, taking himself in his hand. Your mouth waters at the sight of him. His free hand cups your cheek, “Are you going to be my good girl?”

All you can muster is a nod, unsure that your voice can even function to its fullest abilities.

His thumb, gentle and featherlight in touch, traces over your bottom lip before sinking into your mouth, “Prove it to me, then.”

Your hands are reaching up to wrap around him, before your brain can even fully process the movement.

A kiss far too innocent for the actions you wre about to take part in, is placed over his tip. You hear the shaky breath Jake draws in, encouraging you to repeat the same little kiss once more.

You drop one of your hands down to your lap, sliding your hand down to his base. Sinking your mouth down over the rest of him, you can tell that his whole body shuddered from the pleasure you’re providing him.

“That’s it, princess,” he encourages you, his hand coming up to tangle into your hair.

The twitch of his fingers against your scalp, serves to enlighten you on his urge to push you further. Taking a deep breath, you take him as far as you can go, breathing through the urge to gag around him.

“Fuck,” he curses, hips jerking on their own volition. “Your mouth is too good for me, angel, but you look absolutely lovely taking me like a little whore.”

A whimper sounds from your throat, sending the slightest bit of vibration through him. You start to find a steady rhythm, his hand still resting in your hair.

Every so often, his grip will tighten when you do something he particularly likes. Within a minute or so, he is throbbing inside of your mouth.

“Fuck, alright- enough.” He pulls you away abruptly, breathing significantly more labored.

He takes a moment to gather himself, staring up at the ceiling, as if fighting to hold onto his composure.

“Stand up,” he demands, releasing his grip on your soft tresses.

You scramble up to your feet, dizziness plaguing you for a brief moment.

Jake takes no more than a single step closer to you, eyes scanning over the expanse of your naked body that is displayed before him. He reaches up, dragging the back of his knuckles along your temple, letting the gentle touch travel its way down your face, your neck and to your breasts.

The tip of his finger grazes over your nipple, causing your eyes to flutter closed as your breathing increases.

“Oh, the ways I could ruin this flawless body…” Jake trails off, dragging the tip of his finger down your stomach slowly. “So perfect and not a single blemish or mark in sight. A true beauty, you are, aren’t you?”

With every word that so gracefully purrs its way out of his mouth, he backs you closer to the bed.

“M… mark me.” The words fly out of you before you can stop them.

In one quick movement that you are far too dazed to notice, you’re laying beneath him. His cock rests against the inner part of your thigh, hard and still throbbing softly every few seconds.

“Mark you?” he repeats your words back to you in question. “How could I, your majesty?”

There is a playful cadence to his tone, very clearly telling you that he will gladly oblige to the idea.

Jake quirks a single eyebrow at you, “And how do you suppose I do so?”

Given the fact that you hadn’t meant to say it, you haven’t thought that far ahead. Visuals of the silver blade of his dagger lightly grazing your skin, replay in your mind. Along with the imagines of bite marks and bruises that you will surely have to find the means of covering.

“Speak up,” he grumbles, lips ghosting over the center of your throat.

You quickly come to the conclusion that you will allow him to do whatever he pleases, as undeniably insane as it is.

“Do what you wish.”

Jake sits up, bold, widened eyes boring directly into yours.

You stare at each other for a few long moments, before you watch the corner of his mouth twitch and curl up into his increasingly familiar smirk.

“Mmm,” he hums in acknowledgement to your words.

Both of his hands smooth over your hips and up to your breasts, where he cups them and brings his mouth down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth.

“Jake,” you whimper, gripping at the firmness of his bare shoulders.

“I refuse to mark you permanently just yet…” Jake says against your skin. His left hand retreats from your chest, palm harshly colliding with your thigh. “Temporarily, of course-“ his palm cracks against you once more, surely leaving a red tint in its wake. “-I suppose, will do for now.”

You inhale and exhale shakily through your mouth; hung open in shock and the slightest hint of pain.

“Take me, please,” you beg him pathetically.

“Take you where, your majesty?” Jake inquires, a teasing inflection to his voice. He knows.

“Right here,” you sigh, pressing your hips up into his. “You know what I want.”

Reaching between your bodies, he glides his fingers in between your folds - still completely soaked.

“Perhaps I do.” He toys around at your entrance, paying your clit the slightest bit of attention afterwards. “There’s a chance that I don’t, though.”

A low, sinister laugh erupts from his chest as he watches you squirm underneath him.

“Tell me, princess,” Jake demands, voice low and raspy. You can feel his cock teasing your entrance, just waiting for you to say the filthy words he wants to hear so badly. “Take. You. Where?”

Pathetic as it may be, a sob tears its way out of your lungs, “Take me right here, please...I want- need you inside of me.”

“She needs it,” he taunts, barely pushing into you. “Sweet little princess just needs to be fucked…turned into a filthy mess.”

“Oh, god- fuck-“ Your nails dig deeper into the skin of Jake’s back.

“Princess is no good for anything but getting ruined by the man she’s supposed to be capturing.” Jake pulls out almost completely, only to drive himself back inside of you roughly.

The moan that rips its way out of your throat is anything but pure and elegant, bouncing around the walls around you and likely beyond.

“Quiet.” Jake places a hand over your mouth, his other holding his body above yours as he starts to sharply thrust into you. “God forbid you get us caught… Get ME caught.”

Jake begins working his way up to a steady, brutal pace. The depths at which you can feel him is sending an almost unbearable pleasure through you. From the center of your body, out to the tips of your fingers and toes; the pleasure completely consumes you.

You can’t help the volume that your moans have taken on.

Jake attempts to silence you by capturing your lips in a hungry kiss, but it proves to be of very, very little help.

He pulls away abruptly, hand wrapping around your throat, “Shut. Your fucking. Mouth, princess. Will you?” He rasps into your ear through gritted teeth. “We can’t possibly have His Majesty hearing how much of a whore you are for a thief.”

Your head lulls back, face contorted in concentration and immense pleasure as Jake continues to fuck into you relentlessly. Mercilessly.

“Good girl,” Jake praises you, starting to lose control of his own breathing.

The hand wrapped around your throat, travels up to your face; a bruising grip forcing you to look at him.

“I want you to cum for me. Quietly,” Jake growls, adjusting himself above you to bring his other hand between your two bodies. His fingers find your swollen clit, “You can do that, yes?”

“Mhm,” you hum your response, afraid that if you are to open your mouth too much, the unholiest of noises are sure to free themselves from your lungs.

“Come on, then,” Jake urges, pinning your body in place on the rather uncomfortable bed with his own. “Let me have it.”

You feel that addicting burn spreading through the pit of your stomach, mere seconds away from taking over your whole body.

As soon as Jake watches your eyes roll back into your head and your mouth fall open into the perfect little ‘o,’ he crashes his lips into yours to ensure that all possible noises are muffled.

Even he groans lowly into your mouth, forcing your to swallow it down as he continues kissing you with mind numbing passion and fervor.

Your lungs start to tingle, your body buzzing and thrashing all at once; riding out an orgasm unlike any you have ever had.

Jake’s orgasm is only seconds after yours. He spills inside you, gasping to refill his lungs with air when he pulls away from you.

“Damn it,” Jake moans. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Bliss has overtaken the both of you, leaving you to bask in stunned silence for what felt like an hour.

“I… I must say,” Jake finally speaks up. “You are quite something, your majesty.”

For once, his tone doesn’t have any malicious intent or taunting cadence behind it. It seems genuine.

You gaze up at him, slightly shocked. “Thank you…”

He removes himself from above you, laying to your side closest to the wall, leaving you the space to leave the bed.

Staring up at the ceiling, hands on his chest, he reminds you of his previous promise, “You’re free to go if you please, I shouldn’t keep you here any longer, your majesty…”

You blink a few times, struck speechless by his sudden change. You think over your next decision carefully before speaking.

“I… I think I would like to stay here with you…” You tell him, settling back against the worn blanket.

Jake has turned to look at you, now, “What?”

Moving closer to him, you cuddled into his arm, “I want to stay here with you, Jake.”

<>

You blink a few times, trying to rid your eyes of their sleepiness.

Suddenly, the loud slamming of the cell door startles you nearly senseless. You roll yourself over and sit up, all in almost one swift movement.

“Jacob?!” you yell, anger and fear flooding your entire body as you scramble up to your feet. “What ever do you think you are doing?!”

“No hard feelings, my Darling,” he starts with a faux, pitied smile. “You were absolutely magnificent. I almost brought you along. I’ll let them know to come retrieve you as soon as I step foot back on my ship.”

You mouth falls agape, your chest becoming dangerously tight as it heaves up, then shakily back down.

Jake pulls the key he had stolen from the pocket of your dress out of the lock, taking a few steps backwards before bending down and laying it gingerly on the ground.

He straightens, kicking the key just so. It slides towards the door with a few high pitched clinks, stopping just out of your reach.

Jake smiles brightly, shooting you a sly wink, “If we ever cross paths again, let’s revisit this…escapade, shall we?”

@shutupdevvie

@belovedsamuel

@gardensgatedaisy

@ageofbarbarians

@theweightofjake

@jake-kiszkas-smirk @stardustcatcher

@positivegvfthings @ascendingtostardust

@gretasmokerising @highladyofasgard

@doodle417 @groovyvanfleet

@greta-van-chaos @of-infinite-wonders

@skankforjakekiszka @demolitionndann

@sarakay-gvf @runwayblues

@colorstreammind @mybussyinchrist

@ofburningskies @streamsofstardust @twistedmelodies @gvfpal @joshsindigostreak @writingcold @juliensbakery @stillstreetjoshua @alwaysonthemend @gold-mines-melting @gretavanfanfics

[katuschka]

The Dead by writingcold

1st part of this amazing new story already this Thursday! Also, I had the pleasure and honour to create my very first fanfic illustation for the amazing and brilliant @writingcold. Jakub:

[stardustndreamsofsilver]

Honey, All I See Is You Masterlist

Jake x reader (f)

Warnings: will be on each individual part

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

[littlemisslipbalm]

Demonology

Part 3: I Think There's Something You Should Know

Series Summary: A new demon has come to Nashville. Josh and Jake's ways of life have been thrown off by her arrival. The angel and demon have lived with an understanding of one another, but with Y/N stirring up trouble and asking questions, they're forced to work out a new normal. And why is she so powerful for a human turned demon anyway, that's unusual, right?

A/N: Hiiiii! Part 3 is here. Keep adding yourself to the taglist or catch up on the rest of the parts from the masterpost. I think this story is looking like maybe 6 parts...we'll see. oh boy lots of plot in this lol enjoy hopefully and lmk what you think :)

Chapter Summary: Two demons walk into a bar and an angel greets them. What on Earth could they be talking about? There's actually no good punchline to this.

Word Count: 4.0 k | Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, horny demons and angel, 18+ maybe some brief descriptions/mentions of sex - still no explicit smut (next chapter tho...), dubious understanding of demonology in reality

Taglist | Series Masterpost

Part 3: I Think There's Something You Should Know

The wind rustling her drapes woke her up in the middle of one evening when she hadn’t gone out or seen anyone beside Rori all day. It had been a good day.

The moon was almost full and was one of two lights illuminating the street below the window behind her bed. She didn’t have to sleep anymore, but she still liked to. She stared out hazily for a moment and hurriedly closed the window, feeling a human sense of nerves and dread before calming down, remembering that the things that went bump in the night were now scared of her. 

Jake had been teaching her ways to skirt Hell’s system. How to get the job done without doing much. Which she was thankful for. And she’d finally run into Josh briefly a few times, but not as many as she’d like. Not for as long as she’d like. She knew he was keeping his distance. ‘Avoiding temptation.’ That’s what Jake always said when she asked after Josh.

Tonight, she was annoyed the wind had woken her. Her dream had been extra sweet tonight. Josh had sought her out, giving her sweet gifts and feather kisses all with the backdrop of the Sunset Strip. The warm sheets were kind of like his warm chest beneath his clothes. 

The next night, the night of the true full moon, Jake was at her door. He knocked when the moon had reached its peak for the evening. 

Jake had also kept his distance in the way that mattered since that first night together. He had deemed it a moment of drunken vulnerable weakness not to be repeated. It only happened because she’d whispered his favorite fucking poem in his ear—how weak was he? Practically human in that moment. He didn’t bring it up and she felt the heaviness of his silence when she had joked about the hook up the next time she’d seen him. He was to be her mentor only.

Leaning against the doorframe, an arm on his hip and his wide-brimmed hat on his head, he spoke lowly. “Come out with me.”

She can’t see his eyes, just his lips and jaw moving. 

“I’m not at your beck and call,” She rolled her eyes, a defiant crossed arm look staring back at him. A black tank top and sleep shorts sat low on her hips, she was happy to get wine drunk in her home now that she knew she didn’t need to go out all the time. 

He leveled his head with her, making eye contact now. “Come.” 

“I’m not a dog.” She remained unmoved. Rori slinked around her legs, sniffing at Jake unamusedly. The actual dog had had to warm up to Jake these last few weeks and Rori was begrudgingly okay with him since he could feel the power the demon exuded. 

Jake rolled his eyes and greeted the dog. “Don’t growl at me. I didn’t even bring my familiar…” 

Rori had not been a fan of Jake’s crow that he kept around. Y/N wouldn’t even deem it a familiar since he was really only around so Jake could shapeshift into a bird if he really wanted but Jake insisted they were close. Sure.

After a minute of heavy silence, Jake got the final word. The stare down not really going anywhere. He flashed his yellow eyes and she hated how it made her fall in line. Jake’s true nature was malevolent despite his serene facade he often operated under. She didn’t want to ever see him truly angry with her. She’d seen glimpses of it during some of their outings together. It wasn’t anything like the man she had seen inside his mind. 

“I’m your mentor. Be a good mentee. Go get dressed.”

She got dressed, grumbling the whole time to Rori and forcing Jake to wait outside as she blasted Fleetwood Mac—for some reason, Jake’s least favorite band from her time. He rolled his eyes as he heard Stevie Nicks’ voice turned up to a fever-pitch. 

“Jake.” Y/N sniffed as she pushed past him out of her door. “Altar boy name, by the way.” 

He chuckled under his breath and shook his head, falling in step with her and locking her door with a flick of his hand when he noticed she had forgotten. 

When they arrived at this unfamiliar almost empty room that Jake refused to give her information on, her eyes cast around taking it all in with a vigilance she’d never applied as a human. Now she liked to know her exits, note any potential men who might try and cause her trouble, potential targets, etc. 

It was an old dark and gloomy bar, lined with wood that had been worn down by glasses and hands over many years. It seemed it had been loved once, now a shell of its former self. Maybe 10 people in total in the entire tired place. 

A bright light cast in the corner that caught her eye after a moment. Josh. He was perched on a chair at a four-top, patiently tapping his fingers along the table, nodding his head to the live music from a lone guitarist. 

He glowed like anything but no one else seemed to notice. Maybe it was just for her. She thought about asking Jake if he could see the glow. His bright white long sleeve tonight fell over him, perfectly fitted and pushed up to his elbows. The same blue jeans on his legs that she dreamed about feeling beneath her thighs every other night or so. 

She wet her lips, watching his angelic face, eyes shut nodding to the melodies. His lips slightly parted and she missed them. How soft and sweet they’d been when she’d licked into his mouth, giving him the show of his life. Forget that. She needed to be cool. She straightened her posture, looking like a killer about to pounce on her prey. 

Jake cleared his throat, watching Sal watching Josh, looking jealous that she looked at his brother with more desire than she did with himself. Not that he actually cared. She was his mentee. 

She rolled her eyes at him and followed him over to the table.

“Brother,” Jake spoke first, hands leaving his pockets to grip the back of one of the chairs. 

Josh smiled, standing, and touched his brother gently on the shoulder, “Jake.” 

Then a silence fell between the three of them. Who was going to be the first to acknowledge her? She stood exactly between the angel and the demon and she wished that Hell’s mouth would open up beneath her feet and swallow her whole. Rori could stay on Earth if he wanted, she didn’t even care so long as whatever the tension was passing between them stopped right this instant. 

She widened her eyes and opened her mouth to greet Josh before losing her nerve. “I’m gonna go get a drink!” 

“You don’t have to do–” Jake starts, but she’s already disappeared in a flash of crimson and black. 

Jake raised his brows at Josh while blush crept up the angel’s face and ears, the two men sat. Y/N knocked back two shots on her own at the bar while waiting for three beers. She didn’t know what they wanted and she didn’t care. Beer would have to do. 

“So,” She drawled, attempting a more cool and collected approach now that she was back. Afterall, she was a demon who was meant to thrive in situations with sexual partners. She knew how to be cool around people she was attracted to–except, what didn’t come easy to her was behaving normally around someone she actually might potentially teensy weensy care about. She didn’t even want to think that it might be two someones. Especially when her heart was supposedly dead. 

She huffs a slick smile onto her lips, slinking into her chair evilly placed between them with the beers. “What are we all doing here? A Celestial+ Committee meeting? Immortals anonymous…bit of a problem, though,” She leans forward and whispers. “I think we all know each other?” 

“Sal,” Josh starts, his tone measured. He was trying to be kind, but she felt the tightness in his throat. 

Jake flashed his eyes to the angel, a warning. He set his hat on the table, making it crowded with the three glasses.

She settled into the uncomfortable chair, widening her legs and taking a gulp of the beer. Her top might as well have been nonexistent, the deep red lace sheer and showing off her torso and breasts. The black tight vinyl pants caused both beings to flicker their eyes to her movement as she pushed her hips towards them. Josh cleared his throat and averted his eyes, taking a grounding sip of the pale ale she’d gotten for him. 

“We’re here,” Jake starts, giving an unamused look to her as she wiggled her hips and smirked in triumph. “Cut it out, sometimes the slut schtick isn’t cute. We have something real to talk about, Sal.” He widened his glowing yellow eyes at her and she sat up, immediately shrinking again. Just as she was feeling more confident, his accusatory eyes scared the absolute shit out of her. 

Josh shot a look at his demon counterpart, unhappy with the word he had just used, even if it was to describe the demon who had led him into temptation. He had been repenting for the last three months, bathing in holy water twice as often, and an extra time whenever his mind wandered to Y/N and what she’d shown him. 

“We need to find out why you’re so powerful. Who you are.” Josh says calmly. 

“I told you already.” She insisted. “Why does it matter anyway?” 

“Okay, well maybe you don’t realize this but the way you’re treated down in Hell is not normal,” Jake sneers condescendingly. 

“What he means,” Josh intervenes again. “Is that, perhaps, you don’t know who you really are either. We’re worried…” 

“No!” She immediately shoots forward, eyes blazing with hellfire. 

“C’mon Sal, you know how fucking powerful you are. That’s not normal! You’re not normal!” Jake doesn’t sound smug anymore, he sounds a little…scared. He didn’t like not knowing. 

Josh reaches a hand out to Jake’s shoulder, his touch somehow calming even though an angel’s touch should’ve been repulsive to a demon.  

“Listen, Sal,” Josh smiles, trying to bring peace to this strange situation. “Nothing is going to change. It’s okay to be scared, but Jake is right. You are far too powerful for even a run-of-the-mill average demon and you believe you were a human turned demon. You’d have even less powers then.” 

She gulps at her beer, more than half-way through it. “Why does it matter? Why do you two care?” 

Another silence falls between them. The tension returns and she can tell there’s something they’re not telling her. 

“Fucking tell me,” She spits. “Or I’ll…I’ll, fucking…I don’t know, I’ll fucking kill everyone in here. Since I’m so fucking powerful.” 

“There’s not that many people in here, Sal. You wouldn’t really be making much of a point…” Jake shrugs. “Also, why would I care?” 

“Because I know you, Jacob,” She seethes, staring darkly into his eyes. Her eyes had been black since the hellfire had left them, she was in defense mode. “Should I share with Josh what I found in your mind the other night?” 

Jake sat up straight and instantly Y/N’s mouth was shut. Not by a look, but by Jake’s powers. It felt like he was crushing her windpipe. His voice was in her head. ‘Do not say another fucking word. How dare you. You promised.’ She immediately felt meek and her humanity seeped back into her. Regular eyes flickering back to life, she slumped in on herself, wrapping her arms around herself for comfort. She was scared too. 

Josh watched the interaction, only seeing the physicality of their two bodies change. He looked up to the ceiling, lord give him strength and please don’t let anyone die tonight. “We think you might be a cambion.” He rushes it out before he loses the nerve or before Jake stops him. 

She stays silent, staring up at the angel with red-rimmed eyes–not technically demonic, simply because she had begun to cry and she wasn’t allowing the tears to fall. Jake grunts unhappily and finishes off his beer, getting up to get a refill and pointedly telling them not to discuss further until he returned. 

He came back five minutes later, silent and nodded his head gruffly for them to continue. She stares between the angel and demon again, confused and upset with both of them.

“What does that mean?” She asks, her voice soft and child-like, shaking slightly. Had her whole life been a lie? It couldn’t be possible. Why did they want to flip her life upside down or sideways or something? This second life was already confusing enough without an identity crisis.

“It means you were half-human, half-demon in your first life.” Josh speaks softly, barely strong enough to keep himself from pulling her fragile body into his own just to attempt to comfort her. He knew how scared she must be, he’d seen people crumble through history at the realization of their lives being built on lies. “Usually cambion are offspring of an incubus or a succubus and a human.” 

“That would explain your special treatment in Hell,” Jake interjects, feeling more subdued after walking it off and two shots of ‘Jamo’ himself. “But it doesn’t explain the powers. At least, not fully. It’d have to be an ancient–older than us–and powerful one to have been one of your parents and that’s just almost unheard of, even 70 years ago.” 

“Okay….” She tries to absorb the information, eyes still flitting between the two figures before her, feeling a weird sense of unreality that had never happened to her. Given all the weird shit that had happened to her since dying, it was surprising this was so hard. 

“That’s why we wanted to talk to you about it. See if you knew anything or could think about anything abnormal about, maybe, your upbringing or parents.” Josh tries, even gently soothing his hand over the one Y/N had shakily rested on the tabletop. “Anything at all.” 

Jake’s eyes watched them. The way her body relaxed at Josh’s touch. How her eyes sparkled as she looked from their touching skin to Josh’s face. Even her smile was softer with Josh. Josh’s eyes were aglow as well, an angelic white instead of a black pupil.

“Okay,” She says, looking between Jake and Josh again, feeling calmer but also, admittedly, terrified for the first time since she’d been back. “Can I think about it for a few days? I don’t think I’ll come up with anything with you two staring me down right now.” 

She didn’t understand why it mattered to Jake and Josh still but the amount of energy and emotion running through her had made her forget momentarily. Her mind was like static, the thoughts running into one another and jumbling until nothing was coherent. 

“Yeah, of course,” Josh moves his hand to rub over her back. He couldn’t help himself, he was a healer and a helper. Even with her. Especially with her. “Write things down as they come to you. It might help.” 

“Whatever,” Jake rolled his eyes, downing his beer and heading for a third. He needed to be drunk and as a demon it took a lot more work. He thought that was unfair but there wasn’t really anyone he could complain to. Maybe the big one Upstairs, but his key card didn’t work anymore. 

This night had gone about exactly as he expected when Josh had continued to pester him about it. When he returned, Josh had disappeared and Jake hoped he’d left for the night. “Can we get plastered now?” 

“Please,” She sighed, taking the second beer from Jake’s hands. “I need to dance and drink off this stress. Fuck you for this by the way.” 

“Did Josh leave?” Jake ignores her complaint about the night, looking around. It wasn’t like he’d wanted to be here either. 

She shakes her head while gulping at the beer, already moving to the dance floor that was scuffed up and empty. The live musician had left during their conversation so Jake wasn’t surprised when the old stereo turned from 2000s indie rock to 1970s hard rock. “Said he was coming back. Bathroom or something…You gonna dance with me, cowboy?” 

She grinned at Jake, already pushing the anxiety of the evening away, utilizing her favorite coping mechanism: drunken debauchery. 

He shook his head at her and sauntered closer, abandoning his beer and allowing her arms to rope him closer, pressing her hips into his. He hummed with mild satisfaction, staring at her down the tip of his nose. She stared up at him, thinking back to when he had tumbled in the sheets with her. How surprisingly kind and tender he had been to her and how she’d never seen it again. She wanted to see it again. She’d do anything to see it again. 

She ran her hand up and down his torso, taking inventory of his warmth with teasing fingers, “You owe me. That was worse than Hell on Earth.”

Jake leans his head down, lips heavy on her ear. “I don’t owe you shit, Sal.” 

She threw her head back in laughter and Jake’s arms held her waist more firmly, just to keep her from falling. Returning upright to stare into his eyes, she spoke with a saddened sort of lust. “You love talking rough to me don’t you, Jake? Just admit it.” 

“It’d be a big help if you could remember your real name while you’re writing down all your feelings later.” Jake ignores her again, allowing himself to drift his hands over the curves of her ass as she sways against him. He indulges in how the press of her breasts into his chest feels and the intoxicating scent of her perfume as he traces his nose up her throat and over her jaw. 

She whines against him. “Just shut up and kiss me if you won’t fuck me right now. I need a distraction.” 

Jake chuckles darkly, his eyes casting around the room as he tightens his grip again making her hum with a grin on her face. “You’d like that wouldn’t you, little one? In front of an audience? Sick little freak.” 

She looks down for a moment, a flicker of shame at Jake’s condescending voice before she feels the energy seeping off of him. He desired it too. She wasn’t the only sick freak. 

Jake makes eye contact with Josh at the edge of the dancefloor. The angel had been watching for the last few moments after returning from wherever he had disappeared to. He shifts his weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other. 

Jake decides to lean down as Y/N leans up with parted lips, awaiting his touch. He teases her, licking his tongue out past his lips but not quite touching hers. She breathes out a whine and pulls his head closer by the back of his neck and he obliges, sinking his tongue into her mouth. She melts into him. 

Josh watches on still. He can’t tear his eyes away, how their bodies snake around one another so perfectly. How she fits into him, how Jake has no problem claiming her body, touching her and alighting her skin with desire. Josh shuts his eyes for a moment. He wants to leave, he knows he should’ve walked out the door and not come back, but he can’t. She’s still here and he hasn’t seen her in so long. He knew it was a sin to be consorting with her, but, Jesus, he was already there, what was another hour or two of it? 

She pulled back from Jake’s lips, chest heaving for air that Jake didn’t seem to need. He smirked and licked his lips, moving his hand away from the back of her delicate neck. 

“C’mon, let’s go back to my place.” She tries. Her hand tightens in the collar of his shirt, needing this to make her forget her distress.

Jake shakes his head. “I’ll dance with you and I’ll kiss you till you drop, but we’re not doing that again. Never again.” 

She twirled a piece of his hair that had come free from his low bun. “Why not? We had a lot of fun.” 

“Too much fun.” He removes her hands from himself, beginning to step away. It wasn’t the fun he was worried about, it was the feeling. “I’ll see you soon, kid.” 

“Fuck you, Jake.” Anger masks the painful stab to her heart, or whatever it was that felt inside her still, at his rejection. Kid. 

“Keep dreaming,” He winks, turning on his heel and patting Josh’s chest as he goes to make his exit. “She’s all yours. Nice and fired up. Good fucking luck, brother.” He plucked his hat from the abandoned table, strutting out of the bar and disappearing instantly, as if he’d never been there in the first place. Except he had and she was pissed.  

“Thanks,” Josh murmurs under his breath, eyes downcast. He stops Y/N from running after Jake with a hand around her waist when she went to move past him, knowing that whatever fight she tried to start wouldn’t end well. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” He gets her attention, the fury fading from her eyes with one look at Josh. “It’s okay. You don’t want to fight him tonight. You’ve got a lot on your mind and it’ll only come to no good.” 

“No good is what I’m supposed to do,” She stomps her foot, petulantly but resigning to Josh’s hold. The drunken debauchery wasn’t going well and she was starting to feel depleted and depressed. An identity crisis, one rejection and likely another on the horizon with the way Josh was looking at her. 

She felt herself beginning to cry again. This time she couldn’t stop the tears. 

“Oh, god,” Josh whispered quickly, ushering himself and the demon to the sidewalk outside of the bar. The darkness of the night would cover up the sight that would raise human eyebrows. “Hey, it’s okay. Don’t cry. Please.” His voice is soft, feathery and concerned. Pleading. 

“What’s the point? Why’d they even send me here? Who am I?” She wailed, her eyes streaming tears of blood. “Why the fuck do I cry blood? This is so unfair!” 

Josh wanted to curse Jake, but he knew he was already eternally damned so it really wouldn’t do anything. He shushed the crying demon who really just looked like a young drunk girl except for the red tears. Josh held her as she sobbed, blood staining his white shirt. It didn’t matter to him. He offered soothing words to her and eventually, after back rubs and deep breath exercises, she pulled it together. 

“You can come see me whenever you need, Sal. How’s that?” Josh offers as he rubs soothing patterns across her clammy back. 

She wiped at her face and her hair that was now all over the place. “Thanks, Josh. Thank you for being kind to me. Even though…I am who I am.” 

“Of course,” Josh’s voice is full of emotion. He couldn’t help it. She needed him. “Take care. I’ll see you soon.” 

She nodded and sniffed, holding her head high again, the bloody tracks on her face looking horrifying in the dark light but Josh tried for a hopeful smile. She waved and then she was gone, disappearing into the dark and empty night. Jake must have taught her his trick.

She’s not sure what made her decide what she did next. But she was a little drunk and confused and dejected and needy for attention. Rori was asleep on her hardwood floor when she walked in the door, dead to the world till the sun came up hours from now. So after 30 seconds in the empty silent apartment she turned back around, leaving again.

-

to be continued

taglist: @ofthecaravel @gretavanfreaky @sinarainbows @jaketlove @mysticalstarcatcher @whiterosekiszka @sacredjake @beingextraisfun @malany-gvf @joshysgirl

[geminisecrets]

Soul Meets Body

Warnings:  18+ ONLY! NSFW! Explicit sexual content, coarse language, oral sex, smut, unprotected sex, alcohol, I think that's it???

Word Count: 6.8K

Summary: Just a smutty, wintery, friends to lovers, college Sam AU!

Authors Note: Surprise!!!!! It's Sam instead! We absolutely cannot write the Jake one anymore without hating it all and cringing, but we managed to crank this bad boy out in like 3 days instead so... we hope you like it!

Y’all are super duper fuckin' rad for telling us what you think about our stuff. ☯️

Requests are open :) 

Join our tag list ✨

“You’re such a drag,” Sam slurred, finally letting go of my hand, before shuffling back into the mass of dancing bodies. ‘I don’t dance’ is the understatement of the century. The idea of moving my body like that in front of a mirror, alone, in my room, is enough to make me cringe, let alone on a dance floor at a crowded bar. 

There was no bite in his tone, but I rolled my eyes at him nonetheless. He’s known me long enough to know that it doesn’t matter how many G&Ts I’ve had, I will not be joining him on the dance floor. I stay perched at the high top table we’d been drinking at for hours, now. As I shift my hips, I feel the indent I’ve molded into the velvet cushion. 

What I lack in confidence and a carefree social presence, Sam more than makes up for. It’s been that way since we first became friends. I met him a little over a year ago through our mutual friend, Danny. Dan and I were in the same chem lab during our freshman year and Sam was his roommate. The three of us became fast, easy friends and our individual friends melded effortlessly into our dynamic. 

We find ourselves, now, without those friends for the first time on a Saturday night, maybe ever. Sam and I had hung out alone before, sure. We’d studied together, ran to grab coffee between classes, helped the other stumble back to residence after a night out, but we’d never planned something like this. I don’t know if we ever would, had this opportunity not fallen into our laps. 

“A bar promotion, Sam? Seriously?” I’d asked.

“Come on, I know it’s not really your scene, but it’s December twenty-seventh. Everyone else will be home for Christmas.” He whined, puppy dog eyes in full effect, as he kneeled in front of my chair. 

“Sam–” I started, ready to beg him to stand back up and not make a scene in the middle of the library.”

“Just go with him so he’ll shut up, please,” Danny whispered, nose shoved deep in his textbook. 

“The tickets are free,” Sam continued, folding his hands and placing them neatly on my knees. “That old guy at the radio station gave them to me.” I stayed quiet, eyes searching his as I considered the plea. 

Sam and I would be the only two out of all of our friends to be on campus for Christmas. I hadn’t been on speaking terms with my parents for years and his internship at the local radio station prevented him from taking any time off this season. ‘The newbies get the holiday shifts, sorry, kid,’ they said.  

I knew he was going to win me over eventually. I had absolutely no reason not to say yes. No plans, no family to see, no other friends around. 

“I’ll buy you as many gin and tonics as you can handle,” he finally said, wagging his eyebrows, “maybe more than you can handle, if you’re lucky.” A grin slowly spread across my lips as my eyes squinted at him, really testing the waters to see if he was serious.

“Fine, deal.” I caved. 

“Yes!” He exclaimed a little too loudly for our current setting. Danny shoved his shoulder, nearly toppling him over, as I slapped a hand over his mouth, giggling quietly in the crowded library. 

The more I watch him, now, the more I really do, for once, wish I was the dancing type. He looks so genuinely happy singing along and swaying his hips. Uncoordinated and awkward as he may be, he’s having fun. It isn't until one of the girls next to him turns around to back herself into him that I felt a different feeling entirely. As she swivels her ass back against him, his eyes shoot to mine immediately. 

I wasn’t expecting that. I barely have time to change the look on my face, let alone wrestle with the feeling in my gut before his eyes meet mine. My knee-jerk reaction is to raise my eyebrows at him and smile, giving him a weak thumbs up to show I’m impressed. He laughs, tossing his head back and mocking me with a returned thumbs up. 

I look back down at my phone on the table and contemplate faking an emergency to get some fresh air. When I chance a glance back up at the couple, I regret it immediately. The knot of regret in my belly comes from two distinct places. First, I was seeing something I really didn’t want to see: Sam’s hands wandering low on her hips, his middle finger tugging on her belt loop, pulling her closer to him with the rhythm of the music. Second, I was face to face with exactly the feeling I’d been pushing down since the moment I saw Sam walking toward me with Danny a year and a half ago. 

I’d been trying incredibly hard for months to compartmentalize my feelings for Sam. I knew he was off limits the second Danny had introduced him to me, but as cheesy as it sounds, the heart wants what it wants. I’d forced myself to look the other way when he’d smile at me. I’d told myself the way he touched my side was nothing more than a gesture. I’d pushed down all the butterflies I’d feel when he told me a secret or brushed his hair behind his ear. 

But tonight? There’s no stopping it. It hits me like a brick wall. I’m face to face with the reality that I’ve been falling for him all this time. It’s as I feel my heart rate begin to speed up and my breath come a little less evenly that I know I have to do something. Leaving isn’t an option. Way too obvious and I don't want to ditch him. I go with option two and order myself two more shots and a double gin and tonic. 

With a deep breath and a quick prayer that it wouldn't all come back up, I down the shots and the drink in the span of sixty seconds. After a few deep breaths, I decided to stop ‘being a drag’ as Sam had so eloquently put it. I brush my hair behind my ears and make my way to the dance floor. I keep my phone and glass of, now just ice, in my hand like some sort of security blanket as I weave through the crowd. At first, I was sure I didn’t want Sam to see me; I didn't want him to notice that I had ventured out into the sea of bodies. Of course I don't really know how this kind of thing works. I’m relying completely on the liquid courage to move me. When I assume I’ve made it to the middle of the crowd, I close my eyes and think back to all the cliched instructions I’d heard before. Things like: don’t move to the music, let the music move you. And, pretend no one’s watching. 

The more I feel the alcohol in my bloodstream, the more those cliches start to make sense. I sway there for a few moments, hips feeling the beat, before I feel a body press up against my back. 

“Sorry–” I start, turning around to see who I’d bumped into. 

“You’re good,” a pair of bright blue eyes replies, smiling. “This okay?” he asks, hands moving to my hips as he swayed us along to the song. I nod, a blush rising to my cheeks as he brings my hands up to place them around his neck. He hugs me closer as the song changes to something a little slower, the bass thumping so loudly, I feel it in my tummy. The song is something I’d heard before. A classic, but some modern, bastardized version of it. I smile thinking about how much Sam must be hating it. 

I continue thinking about Sam. As Blue Eyes’ hands creep a little lower on my back, I imagine they’re his. As the bassline in the song begins to build, I run my fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck and wish it was longer, softer, lighter. When I touch the tip of my nose to his neck, I imagine this is how Sam smells, warm, soft, and a little sweaty, but I press my lips against it anyway. I feel the groan vibrate out of his throat as his hands dare to dip into the back pockets of my jeans. 

My heart begins to race. Muted, thumping, and heavy, I feel it deep in my chest. Longing. Desire. Carnal and raw. I’m starting to understand the appeal of not being a wallflower on nights like tonight. 

“Sam,” I murmur. 

“It’s Ben,” he laughs. I pull back to look at him, humiliation painting my features. “It’s okay,” he says, lips at my ear.

And that’s when I see Sam walking toward me with a surprised smile on his face. He winks at me and backs away, but as soon as he does, I want him closer again. I want him to feel how I felt watching someone else’s hands all over him. The logical side of my brain tells me he won’t care. He doesn’t have feelings for you like that, why would he give a fuck? But, the very drunk, much louder, side of my brain is yelling at me to try anyway. 

With a smile, I look up at Ben and shake my head, “I’m fine!” I assure him. With my hands on his cheeks, I press my lips to his. In the back of my mind, I’m willing Sam to still be standing there. Ben gives into me, holding me tighter as his lips slot into mine. Getting brave, I lick into his mouth. 

“Mmph,” he grimaces, pulling back, “gin.” 

“Do I taste like a pine tree?” I ask, trying to taste my own breath. He chuckles and nods.   

“I hot pine tree, but a very drunk one,” he states. “Where are your friends?” he asks. I look over his shoulder to see Sam standing by the bar, fiddling with his straw, trying to make it look like he’s not watching me. I’m sure he’s imagining this is what it would be like to see a unicorn or, more likely a train wreck. Ben’s line of vision follows mine and when he and Sam make eye contact, Ben nods, signaling Sam to come over. 

What was supposed to be a sexy attempt to make him jealous now makes my cheeks burn with embarrassment. I feel like a kid getting in trouble. Sam sucks the rest of his drink down and abandons it on the bar to stalk toward us, a smug look on his face. 

“Hey,” he says loudly, over the music, “you good?” he asks. I nod. 

“I hope I see you again,” Ben says, kissing me on the cheek before meandering away from us. 

“What was that?” Sam asks. I bury my face in my hands and lean my forehead against Sam’s chest, groaning. 

“I’m so embarrassed,” I mumble. 

“What?” He calls, clearly unable to hear me.

“Can you just dance with me?” I look up at him, asking pathetically. 

He feigns shock and delight, gesturing to himself dramatically. “Moi?” 

I roll my eyes and make an attempt to escape to the bathroom, but he grabs my wrist and stops me. 

“Hey, hey hey,” he chuckles. “I’m teasing. Of course I’ll dance with you.” 

I let him pull me closer. The song changes again to something with a little more soul. Another classic, but this time with much less autotune and unnecessary techno- drum tracks. 

“Finally, someone in this hellhole has taste,” he yells. 

“Enough,” I laugh, hugging my arms around his neck. He reciprocates, holding me closer to him and moving to the beat of the music. I still feel a little stiff, despite the fact that I can barely feel my feet due to the amount of alcohol in my system. 

“You’ve gotta loosen up,” he says into my ear. His hands travel to my hips and he sways them for me. He’s joking at first, dramatically rocking them right to left, but when I pull back to look at him, his eyes are burning holes through mine. “Like this,” he says. He nods his head to the beat, lip caught between his teeth and hands at my hips again, this time taking another step impossibly closer, chest pressing against mine. 

I feel it again. The butterflies, fluttering so rapidly I fear I might vomit them all up. Instead, I close my eyes and focus on the way his hands feel on me. They’re warm and big and they’re slowly digging harder and harder into the skin at my waist. 

He’s signing along now and he takes a big step back, grabbing my hands in his and spins me around so that his chest is pressed to my back. Immediately I feel a shift in the energy between us. Maybe it’s the alcohol or maybe it’s the way I practically feel his heart hammering against my back, but whatever it is gives me the courage to test the waters and press my ass back against him.  

He seems to approve and shows me just that by bringing one hand around to rest over my belly button and the other to brush the hair over my shoulder so he can press his lips to the shell of my ear. 

“There you go,” he coaxes. 

That really is all the encouragement I need to let my hips move on their own accord, grinding against him slowly and as coordinated as I can. It takes all my focus to get the rhythm down, but the way he moves behind me helps me keep time. 

My right hand moves to cover his on my stomach and the left grips his thigh as I brace myself, letting him keep both of us upright. The hand on my stomach bravely slips under the hem of my top, resting just above my belly button. My heart is beating so forcefully that I’m sure he can hear it. I let my head loll back against his shoulder and as I look up at the bright flashy lights in the bar, I begin to feel dizzy. 

“Fuck, Sam,” I say, holding on to his arm a little tighter to keep my balance. I try to communicate that I need to sit down or go home or really be anywhere but here in this hot, crowded, flashy bar. 

“I know,” he says, squeezing at my waist again, misreading my signals entirely, “I’ve wanted this for so long.” My eyes dart open and at this point I’m sure it’s the gin messing with my perception. 

“Yeah?” I ask, standing up a little straighter, turning back around slowly in his arms to face him. 

“Shit, is it okay that I said that?” He asks, eyes searching mine, but his are just as glossy and gazed over. 

“Sam, I think we should go,” I say, convinced that he’s completely delusional and possibly even more fucked up than I am. He cringes visibly and runs his hand through his hair. “Come on.” I take his hand in mine and lead him through the crowd, past the bar and to the coat check. I rummage through my pockets, but realize Sam has our tickets. He reaches past me silently and hands them to the girl behind the counter. In turn, she hands us our coats. We shuffle past the group of people at the door and step out onto the street. 

The second we’re outside, the better I can breathe. The urge to vomit subsides and I can think a little more clearly. 

“Fuck, it’s freezing,” he winces, walking briskly down the sidewalk. It’s clear that denial and avoidance is the route he’s choosing and, truly, I can't blame him, considering that was the game I played with my feelings for him for as long as I’d known him. 

“Let’s Uber, please, my fingers are going to fall off,” I whine. “There’s no chance I’m making it all ten blocks back to my place.” 

“Just stay at mine, it’s only three blocks if you cut through the park,” he slows down slightly, allowing me to catch up. “Plus, nothing sobers you up like the brisk walk back home,” he explains.

“Fine,” I relent, not in the mood to argue, “but if my fingers freeze off from frostbite, you’re going to have to type all my papers next semester.”  

The walk back to his residence is, in fact, brisk. It’s also relatively quiet. Other than a few remarks from both of us about how cold it is and how much we wish we were already inside, it’s silent between us. 

I shiver underneath the awning of his building as he fumbles with this keycard. Finally, he swipes it and we’re inside. I follow him up the familiar path to room three hundred and fifteen. When he unlocks the door, I find Danny’s side of the room completely spotless. Bed made, desk chair pushed in, even his nightstand is tidy and clean. 

Sam’s side, on the other hand, as usual, looks like a bomb went off. There’s laundry littering the desk and unmade bed and open books and vinyl records covering every other surface. 

“Do you want the bathroom first?” He asks, gesturing to the tiny ensuite to the left. 

“No, you can go,” I offer. He doesn't seem to put up much of a fuss and grabs change of clothes before shutting the bathroom door behind him. 

I suddenly feel incredibly vulnerable. The room is dark except for the light from the street lamps shining in between the slats of the large blinds and the small salt lamp on Sam’s nightstand. I hug my coat tighter against me and sit on the edge of Danny’s bed. I do my best not to get lost in my thoughts as I hear the toilet flush and the water run from the sink. 

I hear it over and over as I stare at the mess of sheets and pillows on Sam’s bed. 

“I’ve wanted this for so long.” 

Surely he was just wasted and horny. He would have said that to anything with a pulse at that point. The more I thought about it, the more I could practically feel him, warm and hard against me as he moved his hips against my ass. The click of the bathroom door opening shocks me out of my own head. 

“All yours,” he offers, stepping into the bedroom in nothing but a pair of old boxers. Slut. 

Two could play this game. I hadn’t planned on sleeping over, of course, so I brought nothing with me. I rummaged through Danny’s drawers until I found a baggy t-shirt and take it with me into the tiny bathroom. I haphazardly rub at my face with what I beg, is a clean washcloth and some warm water in a very lame attempt to take my makeup off. Part of me knows I’ll regret even trying in the morning, but two AM me could not care less. I swish a capful of mouthwash around in my mouth and pray that does the trick for the time being. I look around for a brush after I change into the t-shirt, but can’t find one.

When I open the door to the bedroom, it’s a little brighter. Sam had turned on the small lamp on Danny’s nightstand. 

“Brush?” I ask, assuming that between the two of them there had to be one kicking around. 

“Top drawer,” he offers, gesturing to his dresser as he scrolls on his phone from under the covers. I try to ignore the way his eyes peek over the top of the screen and land on my bare thighs. 

I follow his direction and fish out a paddle brush from the drawer. Mindlessly, I brush through my hair and mosey back into the bathroom to drink as much water from the sink as I can before turning off the light and crawling into Danny’s bed. I reach over and click the light off, realizing that, thanks to the walk home and the bastardized nighttime routine, I’m feeling incredibly sober at this point. I thank God that I’m going to bed drunk, but wish I was fucked up enough to be able to pass out easily. I know that’s not going to be the case tonight. 

“Thanks for coming tonight,” Sam finally says. 

“Thanks for asking me,” I reply, stretching my legs in an attempt to get comfortable in the foreign bed. 

It’s quiet. Really quiet. I can’t hear cars or people outside the window. I can’t even hear Sam shuffling in the twin bed next to mine. All I can hear is the faint ringing in my ears and the sound of my own breathing. 

I don’t know what time I eventually fall asleep, but when I wake up, it's the first thing on my mind. Before I even open my eyes, I hear him say, “I’ve wanted this for so long.”  It’s still dark out. I lie still for a few moments in the eerie quietness of the early morning before I can’t take it anymore. 

As quietly as I can, I slip out from underneath the covers, grab my bra and top off the floor and zip my coat up over Danny’s t-shirt. It’s as I’m slipping my shoes on, that I look up to see Sam rolling over. I freeze like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar and hear the low, evenness of his breathing again, insinuating he’s fallen back asleep. 

I allow myself a good ten seconds to take in the sight before me. The only light in the room is emanating from the dim salt lamp on his nightstand. God damn him for looking so soft and perfect in the low, warm, pink light. His hair delicately falls onto his cheek as though it was placed there for a photograph. His bare back rises and falls slowly as he hugs the pillow underneath him. His lips are plump as his cheek, pressed against the pillow, squishes them into a pursed kiss. 

He looks so beautiful, I’m afraid that if I stand there looking at him any longer, I’ll cry. So, instead I click the door open. I think I’m in the clear until I hear him sleepily call my name. Fuck.

“Yeah?” I whisper, turning back to look at him as he squints up at me, the harsh fluorescents from the hallway tarnishing the picture painted by the warm light of the lamp. 

“Where are you going?” He whispers. 

“Um–” I start. 

“You don't have to go,” he grumbles, sitting up. 

“No, Sam it’s okay, go back to–” 

“I can’t go back to sleep thinking you’re leaving because of what I said,” he confesses. He looks so gentle and genuine and docile sitting in the mess and tangle of blankets. I sigh and close the door behind me, accepting that I won’t be escaping easily tonight. 

As I drop my bag back on Danny’s desk chair, Sam turns the other lamp on, illuminating the room further. I can see him more clearly now. I can see the sleep in his eyes, but there’s an urgency behind them, like his mind is far more attentive than his body is at this hour of the night. 

He leans back against the wall, facing Danny’s bed, sheets covering him from the waist down. I can feel his eyes track me as I shrug my coat off, left once again in only Danny’s oversized t-shirt. I crawl into Danny’s bed and mirror his position. Facing him with the covers pulled up around my hips. It’s quiet for a moment, but the silence is saying so much. 

“I thought you were just wasted,” I grin, unable to make eye contact. He breathes a laugh out of his nostrils. 

“I was,” he confesses, “but…I stand by it. I’ve thought about pretty much that exact scenario quite a few times.” I can feel the blush rise to my cheeks as I pull my knees up to my chest and cross my arms over them. I rest my chin on my forearms and look directly at him, hoping that by making myself smaller, I can hide away from the very real panic bustling up my chest. “Please say something, you’re killing me, here,” he laughs uncomfortably. 

“I have too,” I finally admit. His face lights up at that and I feel my heart start to pound. I imagine it keeping time with his, the beats in sync with one another. 

“Yeah?” He smiles. I nod. “Cool.”

“Cool.” I echo. It’s quiet again and I can't help but notice the way he’s shifted in his bed, the blankets falling lower on his torso. 

“I really want to kiss you,” he admits, boldly. “Can I kiss you?” 

I nod again. “Yeah, you can kiss me.” When he doesn't move, I begin to feel dread rise in my throat before he says:

“I wanted to make a move but… you’re gonna have to come to me,” he says. “Don’t think I could, in good conscience, make out with you in Danny’s bed.” I laugh and throw the cover off of my legs, sliding off of the bed and taking the three steps over to Sam’s. He welcomes me by lifting his duvet, making room for me to join him under the covers. 

“Better,” he says, once we’re side by side. His hand reaches out to cup my cheek and he shakes his head and chuckles in disbelief as he leans in to press his lips against mine. 

Everyone always describes magical first kisses with someone as fireworks, but this doesn't feel explosive at all. It’s hot, yes, I’m warm all over, but I’d describe the heat more like lava. It’s slow, languid, all consuming. His hand moves from my cheek, around to the back of my neck, pulling me in closer, guiding me. 

Our kiss breaks with a smacking sound. “Sam?” I murmur. He hums in reply. “What about Danny?” 

“You’re thinking about Danny right now?” He pulls away to look at me, hand still in my hair. I can’t help but laugh, lips hovering over his. 

“I just– I don't want to fuck things up with our friends.” I admit. “Like will things be weird when everyone’s back?” 

A sly smile grows on his lips. “They already know.”

“They– how?” I ask, pulling back to see his face clearly. 

“No, not about– this–” he gestures between us, “but Danny definitely knows how I feel about you.” 

“Oh,” I smile. “Okay, and he wasn’t weird about it?” 

“Who do you think gave me the idea to beg you to go with me tonight?” He asks. That’s all the validation I need before climbing into his lap and kissing him again. The sound that comes from the back of his throat as I straddle his hips is enough to bring me to my knees. His hands grab at my waist as mine tangle in his hair. I can’t help but smile to myself as he sucks my lower lip into his mouth. It was starting to get pathetic, the amount of times I’d dreamt of this moment with Sam. 

The kiss gets heavy fast as I test the waters by ever so slightly swiveling my hips in his lap. His lips move to my neck as his hands on my waist replicate the motion by moving them himself. I can’t contain the huffs of air coming from my open mouth as he controls my hips just like he had when we were dancing at the bar.  

“Oh my God, Sam,” I whisper. He responds by biting into the flesh at the juncture of my neck and shoulder. 

“Lay down for me?” He asks quietly. I obey, climbing off his lap and resting my head on his pillow. 

“This okay?” I ask, lifting the baggy t-shirt up above my belly button, implying that I’m ready to take it off. Sam kneels above me, straddling my hips, looking down at the exposed skin and reaching out to touch. 

“What if I wanna do that part?” he asks. 

“You wanna take my shirt off, Sam?” I tease, returning the smile. He nods, reaching for the hem. 

“Um–” I take his hand in mine, stopping his actions. “Where are your manners?” His lips part like he’s about to speak, but then shut into a sly grin. 

“Well, excuse me.” He puts his hand on his chest, sinking down to sit on my thighs that are spread slightly below him. “Not very polite of me, was it?” He takes my hands in his and lifts them above my head until they’re pinned against the pillow. His lips hover centimeters from mine when he says, “May I, pretty please–”

“–with a cherry on top–” 

“–with a cherry on top, see your beautiful body?” 

“‘Course you can.” I smile, pursing my lips out to reach his. He kisses me back with fervor, hands trailing down my arms and down to my sides, sliding under my shirt. His hands are warm and calloused, but not rough like I’d expect a musician’s to be. He keeps kissing me as his hands explore my torso, finally cupping my breasts. I break the kiss with a gasp as he kneads them roughly, lips moving back to my neck. I hum out my satisfaction as he contrasts the firm grasp he has on me with gentle, wet, sucking kisses to my neck.  

His hands begin their path south as do his lips. I arch my back to accommodate him pulling the t-shirt over my head to toss onto the floor. 

“Perfect,” he mumbles, looking me over and leaning back down to press kisses to my sternum and down to my belly button. The fingers of his left hand move to hook into the waistband of my underwear and I feel panic rise up in me. 

“Wait, wait,” I gasp, grabbing his hand. Sam pulls away to look at me, eyebrows furrowed with concern. “I just… I’ve never…” 

“Oh, shit I’m sorry,” he tries to understand. “Oh, that’s okay, we don’t have to–” He sits up immediately, wiping the spit from his chin and running a hand through his hair. 

“No, no, I’m not, like– I’m not a virgin, I just,” I squeeze my eyes shut, bracing myself for the words that are about to come out of my mouth. “No one’s ever–”

“No one’s ever gone down on you before?” He asks. I shake my head. “Ever?” He clarifies. 

“I mean I guess I don’t blame my boyfriend in highschool and the guy I was seeing last year just said he wasn’t into it,” I shrug. 

“But he probably expected you to blow him, right?” Sam asks, leaning back in toward me, his elbow resting on the bed between my hip and the wall. 

“Yeah, I guess. We didn’t date for that long, though, and–”

Sam interrupts me with a call of my name and then proceeds, “I don’t want to do anything you don’t want to do, but,” his eyes wander up and down my body and his hand sneaks below the fabric of my shirt, toying with the elastic of my underwear. “I really want to go down on you.” I feel the heat in my cheeks and I know I must be bright red. 

“You want to?” I question, finding it hard to believe. “I thought guys just put up with doing it. Like it was a chore or something.” The smirk that slowly rises to Sam’s lips will be permanently etched into the fabric of my mind. 

Sam clicks his tongue disappointedly, sitting up to hover over me once again. “You were wasted on such selfish lovers,” he says, lowering his body down on top of mine and kissing the skin just above my breast, his lips trail higher and higher, sucking a line of kisses up to my ear before whispering, “can I show you?” he asks, “can I show you how good it can be? For both of us?”

“Okay.” I breathe, tilting my hips up to grind against his, showing him how much I want just that. He groans into my neck as he grinds his hips down to meet mine. I can feel how hard he is and it makes me dizzy with desire. “Okay I want you to.”

“Promise me,” he confirms. 

“I promise,” I nearly laugh. “Believe me, I want you to.” 

“Okay,” he whispers, kissing my cheek. “Thank you,” another kiss to my jaw, “thank you,” kiss, “thank you,” kiss, until he’s pressing the most gentle pecks to the skin above my belly button. He looks up at me beneath his eyelashes and I can’t quite see him over the swell of my breasts, so I shift up onto my elbows, gaining confidence. 

“You look good between my legs, Kiszka,” I smirk as he, once again, hooks his fingers into the waistband of my underwear and pulls them down my thighs. Gently, he spreads my knees apart and gets down on his stomach between them. The confidence I had built from Sam practically begging to eat me out shrivels and dies the second he’s face to face with the most intimate part of me, but once again dissipates as he presses kisses to the insides of my thighs and pubic bone. 

“You look pretty good from this angle, too.” He says before finally licking one slow stripe up my center. He closes his eyes and I thank God because I’m sure the way I’m practically drooling and sweating watching him do this is the farthest from sexy I could get. Slowly and methodically, he licks up and down my center, getting me used to the feeling of his tongue on the sensitive skin. 

Just when I’ve started to collect my breath, he flattens his tongue and adds more pressure to his licks, flicking his tongue up at the end as he reaches my clit. 

“Oh, fuck,” my hips jump away from the mattress at the feeling of the tip of his tongue teasing me. His right hand moves from where it was at my side to flatten over the skin below my belly button, attempting to hold me still against the bed. 

He surprises me by alternating licks with gentle sucking my clit between his lips. I squirm underneath him, releasing my elbows from underneath me, no longer strong enough to hold myself up when I feel his finger slip between my folds. 

His lips and tongue focus on drawing firm, wet circles around my clit as his finger slowly slides into me. 

“I need you, Sam,” I moan with my face turned to the side, voice muffled into the pillow. “Fuck me. Please.”

“Gonna make you cum first, gorgeous,” he says, “can you do that for me?’ I nod. “Tell me,” he pleads, “tell me you’ll cum for me.”

“I will,” I promise as he adds another finger.

“You will what?” he taunts. 

“I’ll cum, I’ll cum,” I huff as his fingers pick up speed. 

“Cum for who?” He continues his interrogation. 

As I’m about to answer, he curls his fingers upward inside me, causing me to gasp and yell, “you! Fuck, I’m gonna cum for you.”

“Alright, alright, no need to shout,” he grins, using his lips to return to the work he’d started on my clit. 

“Fuck you,” I groan with absolutely no malice, gripping the sheets in my hands as he licks and sucks at me.

I know he can tell I’m close by the way he keeps his pace with his fingers and tongue and I cum around his fingers moments later. 

“Thank you,” I breathe as he kisses my thighs while I come down. “Come here,” I reach out for him. He crawls up beside me and kisses my cheek. I turn my face to the side and catch his lips in a kiss. I move to sit up and he makes room for me to press him back against the foot of the bed, straddling his hips. 

“I don’t think we’re very fairly matched here,” I say looking down at the layer of fabric between us.  

“Allow me,” he says, reaching down to pull his boxer briefs off. 

“Ah, ah, ah–” I stop him. “What if I wanna do that part?” I parrot his sentiment from earlier. He crosses his arms behind his head, fully relaxing into the mess of sheets and pillows underneath him. 

“By all means,” he smiles up at me. I lean down to kiss his lips as my hands palm the hard bulge between his legs. He moans into my mouth as I squeeze and pump his cock over his underwear before sliding them down his legs. 

My lips press against his cheek, down his neck and back up to his ear. “Are you gonna fuck me, Sam?” I ask, hand reaching back down to palm at his now bare cock. 

“Jesus,” he sighs as I lick the shell of his ear, gaining momentum with my strokes. 

“Hmm?” I press. 

“Yeah,” he says, “yeah I’m gonna fuck you.” I hum approval in his ear as I line myself up over him. 

“Gonna let me ride you?” I ask, teasing the tip against my center. 

“Yeah,” he breathes, “you think you’re ready to go again? Not too sensitive?” he asks, reaching down to brush his finger over my clit. 

“Fuck you,” I flinch at his touch, breath huffing out of me in a laugh. He leans up to kiss me again, sliding his tongue into my mouth and his hand into my hair as I lower down onto him. I stay still for a moment, adjusting to the size of him before lifting up and back down experimentally. 

“Yeah, that’s so good,” he praises. I find a rhythm, bouncing up and down, feeling him slide almost all the way out before going back in again. I brace myself with my hands flat on his chest as he holds my ass in his hands and pumps up into me harder and faster. 

“Oh my God, Sam,” I huff, trying to catch my breath as he hits my g-spot over and over. I reach down between us to circle my clit, chasing the orgasm I can feel building again. When Sam notices, he sits up, causing me to fall onto my back on the bed as he repositions himself and before I have time to think, he’s moving behind me so that we’re both on our sides. 

“C’mere,” he says, taking my knee and lifting it under his forearm, spreading me open once again. “Can you hold your leg open for me?” he asks, pressing kisses to my neck as he repositions himself at my entrance. I agree, taking my leg, as he did, hooking in the crook of my arm. “Perfect, you’re doing so good. You’re perfect.” 

I rest my head down on the pillow as he slips back inside of me, finding that same rhythm, but this time, snaking his hand down under my arm to touch me. I feel his lips at my ear as he rocks his hips against me, dragging his cock in and out and this new angle feels even better. I know I’m not far from another orgasm, and that’s confirmed when Sam’s fingers trace down my stomach and start to circle my clit. 

Our breaths become more and more ragged and desperate as we climb toward release together. 

“I’m gonna cum again, Sam.” I whine, clenching around him and before I know it, that warm, tingly euphoric feeling is washing over me. Sam moans and curses, face buried into my hair as he pulls out and finishes in his hand. 

“Fuck,” he breathes, and it’s quiet for a few moments before he brushes my hair to out of my face and presses soft kisses to the back of my neck. 

“I don’t think I have the energy to change these sheets,” I admit. 

“Oh absolutely not,” he agrees. 

“Don’t tell Danny?” I suggest, motioning to Danny’s bed, implying that it’s a more suitable option for us tonight. 

“Don’t tell Danny.” Sam laughs in agreement. 

Masterlist

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[ourtearsofrain]

The Barbarians (D.R.W/S.FK) - Chapter 2

Pairings: Danny Wagner x Sam Kiszka

Genre: angst, hint of hurt/comfort and familial/platonic fluff

Word Count: just under 3.2k

Warnings: AU typical events/threats/violence (later in the series), family issues, borderline alcoholism? (we may have another Haymitch situation), goodbyes to families

--------------------------------------------------------

Who Is the Wiser to Help Us Steer?

Sam

Electra leads both Sam and Hazel back into the Hall of Justice before they’re broken apart into separate rooms by Peacekeepers, who say nothing as they close the door behind him. Sam waits for five minutes until he hears movement behind the door, opening only seconds later as his parents and sister file in, a Peacekeeper at their heels. “You have three minutes.”

Sam’s mother is the first to walk up to him, hugging him tight as she grins up at him. “I’m so proud of you, honey. You’ve made your father and I so proud, and I’m sure the twins will feel the same when you see them. They’d be here right now, but you know you’ll see them soon.”

His father steps towards him next, offering a light hug before slapping him on the back. “Go out there and win, kid. Can’t wait to introduce myself as father of three victors, that’ll be something! Now, hate to break this off so fast, but your mother and I want to go see the twins one last time before they leave for The Garden.”

“Oh.” Sam’s smile falters, his heart dropping. He knew it wouldn’t be the last time he saw them, they all knew he would win. But their dismissal still hurt. “Yeah, ok, I understand. See you guys in a few weeks.”

“See you soon, Samuel. We love you.”

“Yeah, love you too.” And just like that, they’re gone. Off to see their victor sons. Sam stands in silence with his sister for a moment, not knowing what to say to her.

Finally, she breaks it. “You know even if you do win, you’ll always be overshadowed by them, right?”

“Excuse me?”

“You’ll always be the Great Kiszka Twins’ little brother. People will always see them before they see you. Don’t think I don’t know why you volunteered, little Sammy wants a slice of the spotlight, right?”

Her words cut him deep, slicing through his confidence easily. “No- You’re wrong, I’ll make a name for myself, you’ll see.”

“I guess we will. See you in a few weeks, Sam.” She gives him a brief hug before leaving the room, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

She’s wrong, she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. She’s just jealous. When I win, she’ll be the one cast to the shadows, the only non-victor sibling. Sam repeats these words in his head as if he were trying to convince himself of them, slowly regaining his confidence. He finally pulls himself together, back to the mentality and the excitement he had had before his temporary goodbyes as he’s retrieved from the room by Peacekeepers, joined by Hazel again.

As they’re led to a car that he knew would take them to the train station, he avoids her eyes, feeling her staring directly at him as he focuses his attention on whatever Electra was saying. He couldn’t care less about her words, he knew they were only meant to impress the tributes, her voice bright and animated as she rambled on about what they would experience at The Garden. Sam didn’t care right now, he needed to see it with his own eyes. He wasn’t some nobody from a lower district, he was a Kiszka, a Career; it would take more than words to impress him.

He tunes back into her words when he catches “mentors” as the train car doors close behind them, excitement coursing through him at seeing his older brothers. Not just seeing them, he didn’t especially care about that, he had lived with them his entire life. He wanted to see them as a tribute, he wanted to hear their praise, see them proud of him for once. He knew he could win, he knew he would win, but he needed to know that they knew these things too.

Electra disappears into another car as the train shifts beneath them, slowly beginning to gain speed until the landscape beyond the windows becomes nothing more than a blur. As he feels Hazel hovering over his shoulder, he moves to sit down on one of the many comfortable chairs scattered around the car, praying she wouldn’t follow. Unfortunately for him, she does, nearly toppling over the chair in her haste to take a seat. Finally, Sam can’t take it anymore, fixing his annoyed gaze on her, his tone short and frustrated. “What the fuck do you want?”

“What? I- I don’t want anything, Samuel.”

“Yeah, alright. Is that why you volunteered? Is that why you’re following me around like a lost puppy, waiting for me to throw you a bone?”

“I’ll have you know that I didn’t volunteer for you.” Sam doesn’t believe it for a second, only cocking his eyebrow, his message clear. “I didn’t! The tribute I took place for, Serena, was just a kid. She wouldn’t have stood a chance in the arena.”

“You mean Seraphina. And what makes you think you have a chance, huh?”

Her face reddens as she’s caught in her lie, scrambling to recover. “I uh- well, first of all, I’m 18, and a Career, we've only been training for this for years. Plus, it hasn’t been a secret that your brothers are mentoring us; The Garden loves them, we’re bound to get loads of sponsors from that alone. And I have you at my side.”

“And what makes you think I want you as an ally in the arena?” If anyone’s gonna get in my way, it’ll be her. The question is, do I play along for as long as she’s useful or kill her as soon as I can?

“I- what? Why wouldn’t you? We’re from the same district, Samuel. And I’m fantastic at throwing knives, you’ve seen it. Never missed a target.”

“Fine. I’ll consider it.” Despite his unamused expression and clipped tone, her face lights up, satisfied with the bare minimum from him. Before she can say anything more, they hear the car doors open behind them, three pairs of footsteps making their way towards them.

“Well, well, well. Fancy seeing you here, Sammy.” Sam nearly breaks his neck whipping his head towards the voice, seeing Joshua approaching him with a grin, his arms open for a hug. He shoots out of his seat, practically sprinting over to his brother to embrace him. “Knew you couldn’t keep yourself outta the games, how you feeling?”

Sam pulls back, still smiling as he looks down at the man. “Fantastic. How are you feeling, Joshua? Ready to mentor the best tribute you’ve ever got the pleasure of knowing?” As Joshua barks out a laugh, Sam searches for his other brother, his heart dropping when Jacob completely passes him, making his way towards the glass decanters  filled with different colored liquids without so much as a glance at him. “Hey Jacob, how are you?”

“Oh, you know.” He raises the bottle in emphasis, pouring the liquid into a crystal glass. I wish he wouldn’t wear those goddamn glasses all the time, can never tell what that man is thinking or feeling. It’s all those years in the spotlight getting to his head, thinks he’s better than us or something.

“So, what advice do you have for us?” Hazel inserts herself into the conversation, feeling left out amongst the brothers. The twins exchange an unreadable glance before sitting down across from her, Sam following suit and returning to his seat.

“I mean, you guys have been trained for this, you know Careers pretty much always win. Use that training, charm the crowd to get sponsors, and don’t ever hesitate when you see a chance to kill in the arena. Confidence is key.”

Jacob scoffs at his twin’s words, taking a long drink from his glass before focusing his attention on Hazel and Sam. “Sure, you may win, but remember that only one of you can win. Accept the fact that one or both of you will die, and even if you do make it out, you’ll have to live with everything you do in that fucking arena for the rest of your life. Every goddamn minute of every day.”

“Seriously?” Sam could tell that Hazel shared his sentiments, choosing to voice them for them both since they were his brothers. “That’s all the advice either of you have?”

“Yup, cheers, mate.” Jacob raises his glass as if he were toasting Sam, downing the rest of its contents quickly. Joshua only shoots him a pointed glare before plastering a smile back onto his face.

“Ignore him, he woke up on the wrong side of the bed. And I mean, yeah. What I said is pretty much the advice we got, and we won. You guys will do great if you just use your training, and like I said, charm the citizens and sponsors. Oh, that reminds me, Samuel, you’re gonna love The Garden. I’ve wanted to take you for years, I can’t wait to show you around.”

As Joshua begins to ramble on about how amazing The Garden was, all the sights he wanted to show him, Sam zones him out. He keeps a pleasant smile on his face, hoping he wouldn’t realize it wasn’t reaching his eyes as they became distant, his mind circling the disappointment seeping into his bones. Is that seriously all they have to say, all they have to offer? No ‘Congrats, I’m proud of you. Here’s how we’re gonna get you through this’? Nothing? And what the fuck is up with Jacob? Isn’t he happy for me? He’s acting like I just signed my own death sentence. Does he have no faith in me?

--------------------------------------------------------

Were Your Young So Spry When They Left to Die?

Danny

Danny ignores everything around him as the escort leads him and Daphne back into the Hall of Justice, completely numb as Peacekeepers take him into a separate room, closing the door firmly behind him. He doesn’t snap out of his daze until Josie enters the room with David behind her as she runs towards him, once again tackling him in a hug. “You have three minutes.”

Fuck. Only three? How do I say everything I want to say to them both in only three minutes? Josie tries to speak, only choking on her sobs as she clings to Danny. Just as he had done in the square, he bends slightly to look her straight in the eye, his hands holding her face as he tries to hold himself together. “It’s gonna be ok, Josie. I promise. David and his family are gonna look after you while I’m gone, ok? They’ll keep you safe and fed. David can teach you how to hunt, you’re old enough to learn. Now, I need you to find the place I grow our crops at, ok? It’s just past that tree we found about a 20-minute walk from our house, the one with a twisted trunk, remember? Don’t tell anyone else about it and don’t let anyone see you go there. Ever.”

“Ok, I remember.” She takes a deep breath to compose herself, tears streaming down her cheeks as she looks up at him. “You have to win, Danny. You have to come back, ok? Please. You have to.”

“I will, Josie. I’ll be back before you even have a chance to miss me, promise.” Danny knew he was lying, he knew he had no chance against the Careers. He didn’t believe a word he said, he only prayed that his sister did. He turns his attention to David next, embracing him as both men fight tears. Dropping his voice low so that Josie wouldn’t hear, he leans in next to his ear, his words barely above a whisper. “Thank you for taking care of her. And don’t let her watch the games, I don’t want her to see me- I don’t want her to see if anything happens to me, alright?”

“Ok, yeah, I won’t. I’ll keep her safe for you, Dan. I promise.”

Danny leans back, David’s hand still holding the back of his neck. “Thank you.” As he hears what he knew must have been Peacekeepers outside the door again, he moves back to Josie, wrapping his arms around her for one final time as he holds back his tears. “I love you so much, Josie. Don’t ever forget it.”

“I won’t. I love you too. And Danny, thanks for taking care of me all these years. I know I don’t say it enough, but you’re the best big brother I could have asked for.”

Danny’s tears finally escape his eyes, rolling down his cheeks as he held on to her for as long as he could. “Of course, you’re my sister.” His stomach drops when he hears the door open again. His time was up. This was the last time he would see his little sister and best friend again, and he hoped they wouldn’t remember him like this.

As the Peacekeepers file in and begin pulling them from the room, Danny calls out to them one final time. “I’ll see you guys soon, ok?” The door is slammed behind them, leaving Danny alone once again. He brings his hand to his mouth to muffle his sobs, not wanting to risk Josie or David still being close enough to hear him through the walls. He didn’t want them to hear or see him like this, he didn’t want them to know how terrified he was, especially Josie. He wanted her to hold onto the hope that he would come back to her for as long as possible, right up to the moment that David would have to tell her that she’d never see her big brother again.

Think about something else, anything else. Danny rips his mind away from his previous spiral of thoughts, afraid that if he let himself think of how she would react to the news, how she’d have to live on with her entire family dead, he wouldn’t stop sobbing until he took his final breath. He’s given the perfect distraction when the door opens again, a Peacekeeper silently standing there, clearly waiting for him. He moves across the room without a word, joined by Daphne, tears still staining her cheeks as they’re led to an awaiting car.

I’ve never been in a car before, do people in The Garden actually have these? They just drive where they want to go, they don’t walk? Seems lazy. Danny tries to pay attention to the escort, who introduces herself as Sable Timber, his dread overshadowing all “excitement” she claimed awaited them in The Garden. He glances over at Daphne, her eyes wide and locked on the seat in front of her as she sits unmoving. Wondering if she had gone into shock, his question is finally answered as the car stops in front of the train he guessed would take them to The Garden, Daphne scrambling out of the seat next to him as if she wanted nothing to do with him.

“Now you two make yourselves at home, I’ll go find your mentor.” Sable leaves them, disappearing behind doors that automatically open and close for her, leaving the two tributes alone. Danny’s eyes nearly pop out of his head as he takes in the train car, his attention darting around it. There was too much to focus on, too many expensive things for just one train car. He doesn’t notice Daphne scurry away from him and into a large, comfortable chair as anger wells in the pit of his stomach. All this food could feed David’s family for weeks. I bet that fucking set of silverware costed as much as I make in a year. Are they trying to rub their wealth in our face? They must be, even though we’re tributes, they need to remind us that they’re still better.

To prevent him from further enraging himself, Danny moves across the car as it begins to move, sitting down next to Daphne. Confusion flashes across his mind as she flinches, her eyes trained on the ground. “Hey, you’re Daphne, right?” She looks up at him with wide eyes, terror written across her face as she nods slightly. “Nice to meet you, Daphne. I’m Daniel, but my friends call me Danny or Dan.”

She says nothing, that terrified expression still stuck on her face, her tears catching on the light. Danny thinks for a moment, trying to figure out what to say to comfort her, to make her less scared. “It’s ok, I’m a friend, if you want. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“You’re not?” Her voice is small, quiet as she slightly relaxes.

“No, I’m not.” Danny offers her a warm smile, trying everything he can to convince her. It broke his heart that she was already terrified of him because he was another tribute, possibly the only one that wouldn’t try to kill her. “I know I look big and scary, but I promise I’m nice. Can I tell you a secret?”

“Mhm.”

He leans towards her slightly, looking around their surroundings as if he was making sure no one else would hear. “I’ve never left District 7, so I’m a little nervous. I’m leaving my friends behind, so it would be nice to have a new one in The Garden and in the Arena.”

“You can be my friend.” Her words are still cautious, but Danny can see that she was slowly warming up to him, her fear gradually leaving her body.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I’d like a friend in there too.”

“Thanks, Daphne. I feel better already, I’ll bet no one will want to mess with us, what with how strong you must be.”

As she laughs, Danny can see her fully relax; well, as relaxed as she could be in the given circumstances, and his heart soars to know that she would at least have one person in her corner. “You’re funny, I like it. You remind me of my brother.”

“And you remind me of my sister.” He keeps his tears at bay, not wanting to cry in front of her. He needed to be strong for the both of them now, she needed to see that he would be able to take care of them both. “Which is why I’m gonna do everything I can to keep you safe in the arena, alright? If you want, we can be allies. I’ll make sure none of the other tributes do anything to you, if you do the same for me. Deal?”

“Deal.” She grins at him, his broken heart slowly mending. He meant it when he said he was going to keep her safe. If any of the other tributes wanted to get to her, they’d have to get through him first. He knew he was already a dead man, so when he died, he wanted to go out protecting someone he cared about. Danny only hoped and prayed that if something happened to him, she’d have enough time to get to safety. If either of them was going to be a victor, he knew he would ensure that it was her.

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Taglist: @jake-whatthefisgoingon-kiszka @milojames16 @gretnavannfleet @aioba1503-sdm @sanguinebats @cheersdannyx2 @musicislove3389 @holdingup-fallingsky @Maddie-Rae

[basiccortez]

Toxic ➢previous chapter || next chapter ➢word count: 5.k ➢warnings: mentions of torture, mentions of abuse, unhealthy coping mechanisms, mention of past character death, mentions of unprotected sex ➢Ghosts Masterlist || S&S Masterlist || playlist

THIS IS AN AU. A complete work of fiction. Nothing in here is a reflection of how the boys act or how they are. It is purely an act of fiction.

It was raining when the plane touched down on the tarmac in the small private airport. She could remember the last time she was at this airport, except she was leaving everything behind her, and going back home to essentially start a new life. Y/N O’Phalen’s green eyes took in the surroundings, the black SUVs, the nicely dressed men with guns tucked in their waist bands. She sighed and looked over at her parents who were in a conversation, as the plane settled on the ground. 

“How long are we here for?” Her older brother, Cillian asked. 

“A couple days,” Maeve said, the matriarch of the family. Her beautiful brown hair made her stand out from the rest of them. All three of the O’Phalen children had deep coppery colored hair that glistened in the light, “Y/N will stay behind, start tampering with the information and files the federal agents have.” 

Y/N sucked in a breath and clenched her jaw, “There a reason I have to be the one specifically to do it? Cillian can do it too.” 

“You know that what they have is more sensitive to you,” The leader of the family spoke up, Galen. His cold blue eyes made her shiver. She knew that she was the only one who could work fast enough to get in and tamper with the evidence and information without being caught. Cillian was smart, but not nearly as smart as her. 

Y/N stood up first, making her way towards the door of the plane. One of her body guards helped her down the stairs of the plane as her family followed behind. She watched as her father helped her mother down the stairs, keeping an arm around her. Y/N had always admired her parents' love, knowing that finding love in their line of work was few and far between. It usually ended in heartbreak and misery. Galen and Maeve had been lucky. 

“We’ll be in and out, you’ll be back home with your baby before you know it,” Maeve said, reading the look on her daughter’s face. It was the first time in almost six years that Y/N had been so far away from home, and it was an eternal battle to not run away and have the plane turn back home. 

“Y/N,” Cillian called out to her. Y/N turned and walked over to him, “Aidan just rang.” 

Her heart stopped and her mind went to the worst case scenario, “What’s wrong?” 

“Cian is sick. He’s running a fever.” 

“I need to go,” Y/N said and pushed past Cillian only to be stopped by Galen, “Da,” 

“No. He’s okay, he’s home with Aidan and the maids. He will be okay,” Galen explained and Y/N looked over at her mother, trying to reason with her. 

“Listen to your father,” Maeve said, “You’re here for business.” 

“It’s also my job to be a mother,” Y/N argued. She sighed looking at her parents, knowing that neither one was going to budge and let her get back on the plane to go home to her son, “If he gets worse, I am on the first plane out of here and back home. Fuck all the-” 

“Remember why you are here, what you are here trying to protect,” Galen said. Y/N nodded and looked down at her shoes. He sighed, and gently led her over to the black SUV waiting to take them to one of the Kiszka hideaway houses. 

— — — ♰♰♰ — — —— — — ♰♰♰ — — —

Between Danny and Sam, it only took about a week to gather addresses and send them out. Josh had made a list of mafia families that were arriving, and placed them in various stock houses around the Kiszka mansion. Danny let Sam do most of the work on finding the families, knowing that he could work quicker at it than Danny could. Besides, Danny tasked himself with trying to figure out why Josh would invite the Irish Kings. Her name and picture had been on Danny’s mind for the past week, the recurrent dream that he hadn’t had for years had come back, making him wake up in a cold sweat at night. 

“Josh,” Danny said, stopping the mafia leader in the hallway. Danny looked down the hall, before pulling him into the office, “We gotta talk about the Irish Kings.” 

“What about them?” Josh asked, not looking up from the ipad in his hands, “I don’t really have time to argue about it, Daniel.” 

“Why the fuck would you invite them anyway?” 

“I had no choice, we’ve been business partners with the O’Phalens for years. They got cold feet after my father stepped down and were ready to burn the whole bridge when Jake died. I have to prove that we are still worthy of doing business with them.” Josh explained, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“You know what they did. You know what she means! He has no fucking clue about any of it,” Danny said in a hushed whisper. Josh clenched his jaw and looked away from Danny. 

“Look, whatever happened six years ago is a ghost of the past. You need to get over whatever personal vendetta you have against them. Remember, the fucker that killed your parents is dead. Galen wasn’t the one who ordered the hit,” 

“I don’t give a-” 

“Hey,” Sam said, standing in the doorway of the office. Danny stepped away from Josh, and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his dress pants. Danny looked down at his dress shoes, not bothering to look up at his friend as Sam stepped into the office and gave Josh the list of addresses, “Took a little longer than I thought, guess I’m kinda rusty.” 

“I don’t think it’s rust,” Josh said looking at the printed ink, “These old fucks have been in hiding for God knows how long, I’m amazed that you found all of them.” 

Sam smirked to himself, “It’s easy when you’re me.” 

“Yeah, yeah, now go get your dick sucked,” Josh said and walked out of the office leaving the two friends there. Danny shuffled awkwardly, looking up at his friend. Their relationship had been strained in the past three years with Sam’s new habits. Danny had his fair share of club nights and girls in college but it all changed when he fell in love with her. 

“I’m going out tonight,” Sam said, “Josh probably wants me to have a babysitter, so you’re more than welcome to come with me.” 

Danny nodded and looked around the office. He really didn’t have an excuse to say no to him, usually he was busy training guards or working on things for Josh, and could just brush Sam off. But Sam hadn’t asked Danny personally before to go out, in the past it had just been a given that he would go with the Kiszka brothers. Danny fiddled with the ring on his middle finger and let out a sigh. 

“Sure,” He agreed, “What’s the worst that could happen?” 

— — — ♰♰♰ — — —— — — ♰♰♰ — — —

Cambridge MA, six years ago . . .

Danny locked his phone and turned his head to see Sam at his desk, hunched over his laptop. He slid off of his bed, shuffling over to Sam and placing a hand on his shoulder, “Alright, shut that shit off, we’re going out.”

Sam looked up at him, confused, “Why, I’m in the middle of doing homework Daniel.”

“I don’t care, we have been summoned to a party. Come on, there will be hot chicks, alcohol, I’ll even listen to you complain about the music for at least ten minutes.” Danny said, lightly shaking Sam's shoulders.

Sam thought about it for a minute before letting his head fall back, letting out a groan, “Fine.”

Danny pumped his fist in celebration before turning and opening his dresser to pick out something to wear. 

By the time the two were walking up the steps of the house, the party was in full swing. Sam and Danny made their way inside, picking up cups of some awful concoction that would at least get them drunk. Danny followed through on his promise, listening to Sam complain about the music for a while before being pulled away from the wall by a pretty little brunette and her friend. 

Sam remained against the wall, occasionally engaging in small talk with a fellow student or two that were taking a breather before heading back into the crowd. He noticed the rotation of girls that Danny had, grinding with someone new seemingly every time a new song came on. His eyes scanned the crowd, wondering why he had even followed Danny, when he saw it, a vibrant head of red hair making its way through the crowd. He straightened up, readying himself to kick off of the wall, when he saw who she was headed for. His shoulders deflated when she reached Danny, tapping him on the shoulder. The moment his friend turned to her, she was hidden from Sam’s line of sight.

“You know, I never did believe it when I heard the phrase ‘it’s a small world’, but I guess I was wrong.” She said, her eyes tracing over Danny’s frame, “Don’t make a scene, Daniel.” Danny rolled his eyes as he grabbed her body, pulling her back against his chest to blend in with the rest of the college students. He swayed their bodies to the music for a couple seconds, before speaking to her. 

“What are you doing here?” Danny asked, his tone sharp as he glared down at her.

“I could ask you the same thing.” She said, raising a brow at him.

“I’m not telling you shit-” Danny said, being interrupted halfway through his sentence by her hand flying up in front of his face.

“Hold up, they’re playing my request. Figured this could be your song, seeing as you’ve found yourself quite the roster of girls here.” She dropped her hand, flashing a smug grin as ‘Womanizer’ by Britney Spears began to play, “I’ll see you around.” 

She pushed off of Danny’s body, and Sam watched as she disappeared into the crowd, and Danny stomped his way over to him. The second Danny reached the wall, he was complaining, “Can we go, I’m done with this.”

Sam chuckled, raising his brows at his best friend, “What? Don’t like Britney Daniel?”

— — — ♰♰♰ — — —— — — ♰♰♰ — — —

Sam always complained about the music in the club, no matter what was being played. Danny had always allotted him ten minutes when they first walked in to get all the complaints out, but he was surprised when Sam didn’t have a single thing to say about the loud bass thumping through the speakers. Instead, Sam placed a hand on Danny’s shoulder and wandered over to the bar to get himself a drink. Danny watched him until he walked downstairs to the dance floor, getting lost in the sea of people. Danny ordered himself a drink and then returned to the balcony to keep an eye on Sam. 

Sam had drawn out the terrible pop song as he felt the girls dancing on him. His hands were roaming the body of a short dark haired woman, who smelled like cheap perfume and vodka. Sam took a swig of his drink, and wrapped his hand around her throat. He pulled her back against him, and tilted her head up, gripping her chin, making her open her mouth. He spit the alcohol in her mouth and then kissed her. She moaned at the feeling of his lips crashing against hers. Sam pulled back from the kiss and looked up, noticing a flash of red hair. 

There were certain sounds that Danny would always remember, one of them was the fake American accent, that was way too comical to be true. Danny cursed himself as he looked over his shoulder and saw her red hair as she sat at the bar ordering a drink. Danny pushed himself off the balcony and walked over to her. 

“Hey, Max, two Irish car bombs,” Danny said, standing next to the red head. She smirked and looked at Danny, “Sorry. . . hit too close to home for you, Clover?” 

“Don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t get my hands dirty with explosives,” She said to him, dropping the fake accent, and letting her thick Irish accent come out, “Nice to see you again,” 

“What are you doing here?” Danny asked, his eyes scanning along her figure. Her outfit was a stark contrast to those he used to see her wear. A latex crop top and tight black jeans hugging every curve she had. She watched as his eyes looked her up and down, and smirked. She stood up from her barstool and walked over to the railing of the balcony. 

“I have business to attend to, figured I’d show up in time to attend the fundraiser.” She explained, her eyes flickering down to the dance floor below them, easily spotting him amongst the crowd, “He’ll be there I assume.”

“He will. What’s the business you need to attend to?” Danny asked, looking at her. 

“Family stuff, people have information that I’d rather them not be in position of, I intend to change that.”

“This wouldn’t by any chance have to do with-”

“Yes, exactly that.” She interrupted his sentence, locking eyes with him, the two of them sharing a silent understanding not to speak of it. 

“Still keeping secrets. . .” 

“I wouldn’t talk about secrets, Daniel, last I recall you still have some skeletons in the closet.” Danny clenched his jaw at her words. She always knew the right buttons to push when it came to the curly haired bodyguard. She checked her watch, finished polishing off the last of her drink before placing the glass on the bar and turning to Danny, “You still like to dance Danny?”

He raised an eyebrow at her, watching as she pulled her phone from her pocket, unlocking it and looking up at the lights before pressing a button. In an instant, the lights changed to a brilliant green color, and the music changed. Her smile widened as she watched his expression change.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” He groaned, throwing his head back in an almost pained laugh as she backed away from him.

Down on the lower level, the change of lighting caught Sam’s attention, stopping his makeout with the black haired girl, and standing up from the couch to search for Danny, as the opening to an all too familiar song began to play through the speakers

“Superstar, where you from? How's it going?” 

He began to laugh upon realizing exactly what song was playing, his eyes finding Danny at the bar already looking down at him. He was about to turn and walk up to join Danny at the bar when he saw her red hair again. He was for certain that it was her, there was no mistaking it from the music change to the flash of green lights. Danny watched as Sam followed her with his eyes, and quickly ran down the stairs to intercept him from chasing after her. Danny’s body collided with Sam’s right as he was making his way down the back hallway. 

“What the fuck?! Let me go,” Sam said, trying to push his friend off of him. 

“No, I can’t let you-” 

“Back off, Daniel,” Sam said, mustering up some strength to shove his best friend. Danny was caught off guard by it, and stumbled, letting Sam get past him. Sam quickly ran out the back door, just as he watched as she revved her motorcycle, her red hair sticking out underneath her blacked out helmet. 

“Clover?!” He yelled for her, but she took off into the night, leaving him even more confused. 

— — — ♰♰♰ — — —— — — ♰♰♰ — — —

He had been watching the screens for days, his eyes feeling like they were ready to cross. Their division had gotten word about the Kiszka family deciding to have a ball, many world leaders and officials were going to be there. But he was more focused on the criminals who were flying in. More specifically, the family that flew in from Ireland. 

“It was her, you should’ve been there last night,” One of the young women in the office talked about. She was new to the case, having been brought on to replace one of the agent’s who had died years ago, “I don’t even think we need to open plan decoy, she’s here!” 

“She’s smart though,” He said, as he stood up from his desk. He looked at the various pictures of mafia families he had pinned to a board. Strings, note cards, sticky notes, and colorful tape were all covering the board with small notes on who everyone was and what their links to the crimes were, “We need to use something against her. She was around six years ago with Agent Castillo. She’d rather die than give up information on her own family.” 

“That’s it!” The woman exclaimed, and walked over to the picture on the wall, “Her own family.” 

He froze, looking at the picture of the little boy. He smirked and walked over to it, removing the pin and holding it in his hands, “We’ll give them the night, let them get to see each other again. Then we give her a call.” 

— — — ♰♰♰ — — —— — — ♰♰♰ — — —

Sam was up early the next day, which was surprising to everyone in the mansion. The maids and butlers were used to Sam waking up around two in the afternoon and sauntering out of his room in need of a drink. But Emile was surprised when he came down, dressed in a suit, his hair tied back in a neat bun, and asking for coffee and a bagel. She was happy to see the young boy look more like his old self and not the shell of the person he used to be. 

Sam went straight to his office, logging into his computers and going straight to the CCTV of the club last night. He pulled up all of the cameras, surrounding himself with black and white videos of the hours that he and Danny were at the club, trying to catch a glance of the red headed woman who was there. Sam scanned the footage, slowing it down and zooming in when he thought he saw her. 

“Fuck,” Sam cursed, “You’re too fucking smart for us, Clover. . . but not that smart,” Sam bit his lip as he clicked on one last camera, one that was positioned in a bottle of alcohol on the bar. Sam sat back as he watched the moment she walked towards the bar, his heart dropping as she looked right at the hidden camera, and then the footage goes dark, “Fuck!” 

Sam sat down at his desk and ran his hands through his hair, pulling on the locks, trying to think of what he could do. He lifted his head up and looked at the image of her, her features so perfectly presented in front of him. He gently touched the screen almost as if he were to reach in and caress her soft face. Even through the black and white footage, he could see her electric green eyes and dark red hair. Sam sat back in his chair, studying her face over and over, watching that three second video of her walking to the bar and smiling at the camera before it all goes dark. 

Josh was on the verge of a mental breakdown as he was trying to finish the checklist for the ball tonight. He had been working on this project for over a year, between trying to find a location, locating the mafia Kings, finding enough security, and everything else that came with hosting some of the world’s richest criminals under one roof. Josh was really feeling the sting of the pain of not having Jake around. He had always prided himself with being organized, but there was something about not having the presence of a strong leader like Jake. The closer and closer the ball got, the more and more Josh found himself talking to Jake, asking him for some sort of guidance. 

Josh was looking over some order of champagne on his Ipad when he walked by Sam’s office, seeing his stare at the monitors in front of him. Josh looked down at his watch and then back at Sam, confused as to why he wasn’t dressed in his tux to go to the venue for the ball. 

“Yo, what the fuck? We are leaving in 15 minutes!” Josh said, walking into Sam’s office, snapping him out of his daze. 

“Huh?” Sam said, jumping and turning to face his brother, “What, what time-” 

“Go get fucking dressed!” Josh yelled at him. 

“So-sorry,” Sam said, shutting down his system and standing from his chair. 

“Look, I’m not sure what the hell is going on with you lately, and frankly I don’t have the patience to really care,” Josh said, grabbing Sam’s arm and stopping him, “But you need to get your head screwed on tighter. I can’t protect you, I can’t save you, I’m too busy trying to save myself right now. So figure your shit out, or I guess I’ll start planning your funeral next.” 

Josh let go of Sam’s arm and walked out of the office, still muttering something about the champagne order, worried they didn’t get enough. Sam watched him walk away, and then back at the picture of his screen. He shook his head and left the room, making sure to lock the door and then went to his room to get ready for the ball. 

The venue was decorated beautifully, with gold, red and white sprinkled throughout it. The old Gambino mansion was a safe haven, tucked in the woods of Tennessee, not many knew of its existence, unless they were in the mafia world. Even though most of the preparations had been done prior to the ball, Josh was still walking around making sure everything was perfect. He, like Danny and Sam, were wearing perfectly tailored black tuxes. Josh had added stitching of red flowers into his coat, making him stand out from the other two. Everyone was dressed in their best, giving off the Old Hollywood/Great Gatsby vibe that Josh wanted. Sam could care less as the very first thing he did when he walked in was order himself a drink. 

“Ah, my favorite brothers-in-law,” Gianni Santiago smirked as he walked in and saw the Kiszka boys. 

“Gianni, you old bastard,” Josh smiled and hugged him, “Been too long.” 

The Kiszkas and the Santiagos kept in touch after the funeral. Paulo had been the most distant out of the three boys, burying himself into his new position as head of the family. Narciso had found himself taking over all of his sister’s business from her multiple clubs in Italy, to the fashion line she had been working on before coming to the States to marry Jake. Gianni, though still the wild card, had been over to visit the Kiszkas and his sister’s grave more than any of them. Danny and Gianni had made a special friendship, both of them bonding over shared trauma. 

“How are things?” Gianni asked. 

“As to be expected, I’m sure Paulo has told you all about it,” Josh explained and Gianni rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah. That fucker has a bigger dick up his ass than my old man ever had. I think it's because of her death. . . He still blames himself.” Gianni looked down at his maroon colored loafers, “Anyway, where are the drinks and the bitches?” Gianni smirked at Sam and Danny. Sam walked over and threw his arm around Gianni, walking away and talking about possibly visiting the club if the ball sucks. 

The three of them found a spot in the corner of the large ballroom, near the bar and decided to stay there as they drank expensive whiskey and caught up on the last year or so of their lives. Sam watched as Josh walked around the room, greeting the mafia Kings and their families as they entered. Sam knew how important this night was to his brother, so he decided to cut it easy with the alcohol consumption. Sam was only half listening to the conversation between Gianni and Danny, when he felt Gianni nudge him. 

“Who invited the Moss King?” Gianni said and pointed to the striking emerald green outfits, pale skin and red hair of the members of the O’Phalen family. 

Danny clenched his jaw and brought his drink to his lips, “Josh’s idea.” 

Gianni laughed and said something else, but Sam paid no attention as he watched her walk down the steps, her green dress flowing behind her as she held onto another man’s arm. Her red hair was pinned back, exposing her neck, which Sam wanted to place soft kisses along. She walked with her head held high, something Sam had always loved about her, as she reached the bottom of the stairs and then greeted Josh, placing a soft kiss on his cheek.

“She’s real. . . She’s alive. . . ” Sam said and tried to step closer to her, but was stopped by Danny. He looked at Danny with wide eyes and Danny just shook his head. Sam watched as she followed Galen O’Phalen, the head of the family, over to meet various Mafia Kings, each of them greeting her with a hug and a kiss, “She’s. . . ?” 

"It's not my story to tell," Danny mumbled and took his hand off of Sam's shoulder and walked over to the bar with Gianni. 

Sam was frozen as he watched her. She was still as breathtaking as ever, and she still seemed to conduct all the attention on her. She glanced over at Sam, giving him a sad smile, and Sam felt his heart break in his chest all over again. All he wanted to do was to hug her, to kiss her, but the woman in front of him wasn't the same woman he remembered from all those years ago. This woman was different. 

She smiled at something that Paulo said, and then glanced over, catching Sam’s eye. She looked up at the balcony, and then back at Sam. Sam followed her eyesight again as she looked at the balcony and then nodded. He watched as she excused herself from the men and then waited a couple minutes before doing the same and going to find her. 

— — — ♰♰♰ — — —— — — ♰♰♰ — — —

Cambridge MA, six years ago . . .

By the time Danny was finished grumbling to Sam, the song had changed, and Danny was once again being beconned by one of his many girls. Danny looked back at his friend, the person he was supposed to be protecting, making sure he was okay with him disappearing back into the crowd. Sam knew that Danny had already surveyed the area, making sure it was safe for Sam to be at. Sam hated it, but he knew that it was important for Danny to do his job. 

“Go enjoy yourself, it was one song.” Sam said, waving him off and watching as he was pulled back into the crowd. Danny clapped his friend on the back as some fake blonde came up and grabbed his hand. Danny’s eyes went straight to her ass as they pushed through the crowd. 

Sam smiled, watching as girls swarmed to his friend, and after a few more minutes of leaning against the wall, he decided to go outside for a breath of fresh air, and a smoke. He kept his eyes on his feet as he made his way towards the back door of the house, making sure not to step on anyone's toes as he shuffled through the crowd. 

The sliding door was shut, so as he slid the glass door open, he caught the attention of a familiar red haired girl. His eyes caught hers, and a small smile forming on her lips caused Sam to trip on the frame of the door. He caught himself, straightening out before shuffling over to the railing where she was standing, a blush spreading across his cheeks.

“Quite the entrance.” She said, her accent catching him slightly off guard. Sam blinked a few times, his mouth opening and closing as she watched the gears in his head turn, trying to come up with something to say.

“Yeah… you know what they say…” He started, rubbing the back of his neck, “I don’t know what they say about stumbling when trying to talk to a pretty girl.” 

Another giggle fell from her lips, her cheeks reddening at his comment. She lifted a hand from the railing, holding it out to him, “Y/N.”

He smiled,”Sam,” placing his hand in her own, he gave it a small shake, “I saw you earlier, I was hoping we’d run into each other.”

— — — ♰♰♰ — — —— — — ♰♰♰ — — —

Sam moved quickly as he walked down the dark hallways of the mansion, searching for her. His heart was beating fast as he had awaited this moment for six years, although he pictured it very differently. He wasn’t in the very expensive tux he had on, surrounded by mafia members, no, he was back in Cambridge at the little cafe down the street from his dorm room. And she wasn’t dressed in an expensive dress, she was probably wearing ripped jeans and some shirt she had stolen from his room. 

Sam paused for a moment, as he turned the corner, seeing her pale skin illuminated by the moonlight, as she stared out in the dark forest. She looked interily ethereal, like a goddess, something Sam had only seen in his dreams. She could hear his footsteps, and broke out of her trance and looked at him.  

He wanted to hate her, he had planned out what he was going to say to her the moment they met again. He had practiced the angry words he wanted to say to her for just disappearing without a trace. But all that left his mind the moment he was standing within arms reach of her. All he wanted to do was pull her in for a kiss, to hold her in his arms in case this wasn’t real. In case this was all a dream and his mind was just playing another cruel trick on him. 

“Y/N. . .”

She turned to face him completely, and smiled, “I knew you’d find me eventually, Sammy.”

Taglist: @myownparadise96 @gretavanbitches @jakeyboiiiiiii @mywaygvf @maverick-rose @oldermensimp @baguettejuliette @josh-iamyour-mama @weightofdreamz @gabs-gvf @callmebymym @st4rdust-ch0rds @lvnterninthenight @writingcold @caravelsparrow @kissthekiszka @allieboop @strugglingtodoshit @peacfulfuckinarmy @tlexx

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[writingcold]

A cursed love. A graveyard. An entity. An AU story that spans time.

I'll be starting to post this Thursday, August 1st. It's a fully completed story, so no breaks, no pauses - with postings every Thursday.

I will be starting this story with a fresh tag list, so if you want to be added, please sign up here

Here's who I have so far: @edgingthedarkness @its-interesting-van-kleep @lvnterninthenight @katuschka @thewritingbeforesunrise @ignite-my-fire @takenbythemadness @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @fleet-of-fiction @demonrat444 @klarxtr @peaceloveunitygvf @hollyco @lipstickitty

Thank you to @edgingthedarkness for all of her help wading through this beasty of a story, creating the cover and this gem of an edit that has kept me inspired:

Can't wait to share this love story with you! 💚💚 You can find the story's master list here to read all the warnings that come with a story such as this one.

[kxnsy]

Night Moves Pt. II - Jake Kiszka

Summary// a storyline based off of the song Night Moves by Bob Seger. Jake and you have found yourselves in quite the predicament, and you both decide to make the most of it.

Warnings// 18+ please! this is pure smut. mentions of underage drinking, teenage recklessness? and a whole lot of fun ;)

Word Count// 4.7k+

Author's Note// Hi everyone! Thank you SO much for all of the love & support on part 1 of Night Moves, I really appreciated it all<3 I knew that I wanted to do a part 2 for it, and I may have gotten a little carried away with this one, but it was so fun! I do plan on continuing this to a part 3, and I have some really fun things planned for the future, as well! This chapter is probably most representative of the song Night Moves, so feel free to listen to that song as you read along!

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy! :)

-Kensy♡

Night Moves Pt. I

Around 8 AM, you felt the urgent need to pee, which woke you from your otherworldly sleep. As you opened your eyes, though, you were met with a different setting than what you expected. As you spotted the guitar in the corner of the room, along with the pile of guitar picks on the desk next to it, it all clicked: you were in Jake’s room, in Jake’s bed, and Jake’s arm was slung over your waist, his fingertips lightly grazing your skin as they hung off the side of your stomach.

You suddenly felt like your bladder could wait, the sudden urge to run your fingers across the expanse of his bare chest seemed all too enticing. His mouth was slightly open, taking in a deep breath to make his chest rise and then a slow exhale to make it fall again. His eyelashes nearly touched his cheeks as he lay asleep before you. He just looked so pretty, how were you ever supposed to look away?

At that thought, you shocked yourself enough to bring you back to reality, which was in fact that your bladder could no longer wait. You tried your best to gently remove Jake’s arm from you, but as you sat up, his arm seemed to slide off of you just too fast and land on the bed with a thud. The impact elicited a grunt of disapproval from Jake as he stirred in the bed. You let out a whispered sorry as you padded across the floor on your tiptoes, in a desperate search for a bathroom.

As you washed your hands, sighing in relief, you finally noticed what you were wearing. A baggy red t-shirt that was littered with a few holes here and there, looking to be about the size of loose ashes from a fire. You noticed the outline of your nipple poke through the thin fabric of the t-shirt. In what seemed to be shock, you looked down to your legs, seeing a pair of plaid boxer briefs hung loosely around your hips. The sharp inhale you took worked in tandem with your eyes as they widened–did something actually happen last night??

Just as quickly as you ventured to the bathroom, you found yourself replicating that same speed to get back to Jake’s room. As you stepped into his room, you moved quickly to the side you had apparently slept on, crawling back under the covers in an attempt to conceal yourself.

You poked at Jake’s side with your finger, once again earning a disgruntled sound from Jake. Instead of apologizing this time, though, you continued to poke him, even shaking his arm that was somewhat tucked underneath the pillow your head was laying on.

Jake whipped his head around to face you, the remainder of his body not moving an inch. He let out a deep sigh, a hum slipping into the air along with it.

You looked at him expectantly, as if his reaction was pathetic compared to how you were reacting? Why was he so calm? Based on the fact that you’re in his clothes this morning, and without a bra, you think a conversation should definitely be happening.

“Good morning to you too,” he mumbled, his words coming out more as one long word rather than a sentence. As he shifted his body to face yours completely, you bite back the words on your tongue at the sound of his morning voice: you’re fucking flawless, even when you just wake up.

He smiled at the sight of your pretty face, skin still fresh and void of any make up. He stretched his arms out above the comforter, his bare chest peeking out once again. You took your opportunity to admire his tanned skin and defined muscles that ran down his arms, his chest, his stomach…

You cleared your throat before speaking, “Good morning, Jake. I think there’s a few things we need to talk about.” You tried to keep your voice flat and serious, but the effect he had on you right now just seemed to alter the way your voice came out.

As a result, Jake let out the squeakiest chuckle you’d ever heard, and it made you smile in return. He tucked his hands under his head as he faced you, blinking slowly as he nodded before speaking, “Okay then, let’s talk.”

You sighed softly before speaking, “Did we…” you struggle to find the right words to describe what might have happened, “...do something last night?” As soon as it left your mouth, you felt dirty and embarrassed, but you didn’t know why, you haven’t even found out if you did or not.

He squinted his eyes in obvious confusion, shaking his head abruptly.

“What? No, remember what I suggested to you? And your response to my suggestion?” His eyebrows rose as he spoke, stressing the sounds of the vowels in certain words.

“Well yeah, I remember that much but I thought I fell asleep after that.”

“I mean, you did, but only for about five minutes before you woke up and complained how hot it was in my room.”

You were sick of hearing everything that led up to the moment you wanted to know about, so you got right to it.

“Jake, how did I get your clothes?”

A smirk appeared on his face as he began to recollect the scene.

“Well, you started pulling off your sweatshirt, and then your pants..” He let the sentence float through the air, not quite finishing it as he chuckled in the middle of it.

“...and then I saw you reaching behind your back, and soon enough your bra was off.”

Now it was your turn to raise your eyebrows. As if you weren’t underneath the covers enough, you felt like you wanted to curl underneath the covers even further and conceal your burning red face. What the fuck were you thinking?

“Okay? And then what happened?” You urged him on from beneath the covers, hearing him chuckle once again at your eagerness.

“I mean as much as I would have loved to sit and stare, I knew you weren’t trying to initiate anything, considering how absolutely drunk you were.”

He shifted once again, reaching his arm out to tug lightly on the shirt you were wearing.

“I took my shirt off and tossed it to you, and thankfully you put it on without a fight. Now the boxers were a bit harder, you kept going on about, ‘I don’t wear pants to bed’.”

You rolled your eyes in complete disbelief of your actions.

“That’s all that happened, right?”

He nodded as he spoke.

“Yeah, and then we just slept in the same bed but you kind of hogged the bed. You were rollin’ all over, like, all night long.”

He smiled at the sound of your embarrassed groan.

“Well I should probably get changed back into my clothes and then head out. I’m sure my parents are just losing their minds over where I am on a Sunday morning.”

Jake nodded, agreeing with you by saying that you might want to leave through his window to avoid any bug-eyed looks from his family as you walk out of their son’s bedroom.

You hopped down from the windowsill and onto grass below, only grimacing for a second as the jump wasn’t too far. You looked back up to Jake as he leaned out from his window.

“Don’t forget about our little agreement! We can talk it over when I take you out on our little date,” he winked to you, smiling his big and beautiful smile to send your stomach into a frenzy of butterflies.

“Well then you’d better get to planning, you don’t want to keep me waiting forever, do you?”

He shook his head, eyeing your figure as you walked towards your car.

“Never in a million years.”

Not even five minutes after you pulled into your driveway, Jake was texting you to make sure you made it home safe. You responded with a simple yes, thanking him for checking up on you. Although you wanted to throw in some sort of flirtatious statement in there, you were unsure of not only what to say but also how Jake would react. As far as the whole “arrangement” goes, you weren’t entirely sure just yet if he was serious, and if he was, what all that would entail.

Over the course of the next week, though, Jake had been texting you at an increasing amount. You remember exactly what you were doing as you received a phone call from him, and your heart nearly dropped to your stomach. With a deep breath, you answered the phone.

“I’m calling about that first date.” You could hear the smile he wore as he spoke, which obviously made your pre-existing smile even wider.

“Oh yeah? What did you have in mind?”

..

Later that night, you found yourself sneaking out of your window to meet Jake at the end of your driveway. You felt so giddy as you jogged down the driveway, the feeling of freedom spreading through your veins. This was what teenage life was about, right? Late, summer nights and sneaking out with some boy: what could top it?

As you hopped into his old truck, you let out an excited squeal before reaching over and grabbing his face in your hands, planting a quick and chaste kiss upon his soft lips. As you pulled back, his eyes roamed your face and his lips curled into a smirk.

“As much as I’d like to start all of the fun now, I think we should find a spot that’s a bit more reserved.” He really did have to force himself to look away from your perfect self. You never look less than angelic, he thought.

Within minutes, you two were on a backroad surrounded by cornfields, headlights off, and music softly streaming through the speakers. As you both chatted about present projects and future goals, the air seemed to get thick with tension. His eyes bounced between the expansion of your body and your face in the dim light. Your eyes zoned in on his lips and the way he was running his finger along his bottom one.

“So about the agreement?” You broke the silence that lasted in the tense span of 20 seconds.

He smirked at you, widening his legs apart.

“I figured we could practice all of the fun things we wanted to learn with each other.”

His eyes searched your face for any sign of how you were feeling.

“That’s only if you want to, though.” He was quick to assure you that this was most certainly a mutual idea. You chuckled at his break in character, going from sensual to concerned. It made your stomach bubble with butterflies.

For someone who didn’t exactly know what they were doing, you found it extremely easy to assume. You climbed over to Jake’s lap, planting yourself on his growing erection. He let out a soft moan as he looked up at you and you could hold back no longer. You brought your lips to his with an immense amount of fervor, finding it just too simple for the two of you to find a steady rhythm for not only your tongues, but your hips that were rocking back and forth against his.

You broke from the heated kiss to tilt your head up to face the moon roof. Jake littered your neck with wet kisses, experimentally nipping at the delicate skin below your ear. You hummed out in bliss, loving every ounce of attention he was giving you. He slid his hands from your lower back to rest on your ass, squeezing it between his calloused hands to encourage your hips at a faster rate.

“Jake, what now?” You breathlessly moaned, feeling his lips trail over the skin of your chest.

“You want more?” He tilted your head down to meet your eyes, planting a chaste kiss to your lips.

He smirked in response to your eager nod, nodding his head in a quick motion for you to sit up. He began by removing your jeans, watching your eyes as he tugged the zipper down. You anxiously rocked your hips against his hand in an attempt to gain some friction, and his other hand met your hip to hold you still.

“Wait for me, babe,” he cooed softly. He was melting you in his lap right this very second, and you nodded in absolute mesmerization of him.

When you had both got the awkward removal of your jeans done and over with, the shirts were next. Ever since the morning after the party when you had an intimate glance of his bare chest in his bed, you couldn’t stop fantasizing about taking off his shirt. And now, it was happening all too easily.

You watched as he removed his flannel from his arms, his eyes never leaving yours. You barely waited a second after to grab the hem of his shirt, fingers lightly grazing his stomach. He smiled up at you as you lifted it. He tugged it the rest of the way over his head as your hands found themselves occupied along his chest. You traced your hands down the center of his torso, trailing back up to place them on his chest. As his head popped out from under the shirt, he ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to tame it. You bit your lip to refrain from audibly gasping at the sight before you: Jake in just his boxers, hands resting on your bare thighs and eyes gleaming back at you admiringly.

He worked to remove your shirt with ease as you unclipped your bra beneath it. In a movement that seemed all too simple, your shirt and bra were off in an instant. Feeling suddenly exposed, you shivered and reached an arm across your chest to conceal yourself. Jake caught your wrist, stopping you before you could.

“Don’t. You look so pretty like this.” A blush crept across your skin, making the air feel hotter and thicker than it already was.

He brought you closer to him with a hand on your lower back. He looked to you, keeping eye contact as he brought his lips to your chest. In a way that seemed both completely innocent yet purely lewd, he circled your nipple with his tongue. Fighting back the urge to moan, you dropped your mouth into an “O” shape, pulling his head closer to your chest with your fingers in his hair.

As he sucked your nipple into his mouth, he bit down softly to earn a gasp from you, followed by a smirk from you both. He closed his eyes for just a second, pulling you somehow even closer and moaning against your hot skin. He brought one of his hands on your hip to grasp your other breast, massaging and kneading the skin beneath his hands. As he pulled back from your tender and swollen breast, he leaned down to connect his lips to the other.

His tongue was dragging across your nipple, and you could feel the blood rushing through your veins as your body temperature was increasing by the second. His teeth, once again, bit down softly and you couldn’t fight the jerking of your hips against his hardening dick. He moaned around your breast, fingers digging into your other breast and your hip.

As he leaned back from your chest, his eyes beamed at the sight of the red spots littering your chest. You heard him mutter, “so beautiful,” beneath his breath before looking back to your eyes. You pulled him into your lips again, swirling your tongue against his in an attempt to somehow get even closer.

You hummed into his mouth at the feeling of his hands running up your thighs. You shivered in anticipation of what was next. The closer his fingers moved to your center, the more you arched into his touch.

He pulled back from your lips, looking to you with a slight nod towards your panties. Understanding what he was indicating, you grabbed his wrist and placed his hand directly over your clothed core. He swallowed at your directness and bit back a moan as you whispered, “touch me.”

He ran his fingers over the lace of your panties that concealed your modesty, and it fueled the flames in your stomach that wanted more. You sighed impatiently as he gently stroked over your clit, and as you opened your eyes to look at him, you saw his eyes flicking between your face and your pussy.

“Please, Jake, take them off.” You were begging him to touch you now? It was going to be an impeccably fun night.

“Okay, pretty girl. Lift your hips for me.”

With that pet name, you’d do anything for him.

As he pulled the black lace down your legs, you inched closer to his groin. He placed a hand on your hip as his other hand found itself cupping you. Out of plain cluelessness, you grinded down against his hand, the heel of his palm planted against your clit. You sucked in a sharp breath, and as Jake watched your face contort in pleasure from the interaction, he smirked to himself, discovering how to keep you moaning for him.

His hand pulled away from your core, and your eyes shot open in disappointment. He quickly redeemed himself as his index finger slid between your folds, spreading them as he went. You wriggled beneath his grasp, and as his thumb met your clit, you moaned out his name sharply, digging half moons into his shoulder. Catching you by surprise, he slipped a finger in you. It was an easy feat with how wet you were. He monitored both your face and his fingers as he rubbed circles against your clit and now, pumped his finger in and out of you.

You don’t exactly know how he knew what to do but you’re thankful he did. He had you rocking your hips against his hand in such a filthy manner that even he, himself, couldn’t believe how fucking obscene you looked right now.

Your hair was knotted from his hands running through it, your skin damp and glistening in the moonlight, and your voice hoarse from the overwhelming amount of cries of pleasure bouncing against the inside of Jake’s truck.

He was the hardest he had ever been, his dick twitching with every groan of his name you let slip past your swollen lips. He could feel the slight mess he was making in his boxers, and he knew he wasn’t going to last long when he did eventually fuck you.

With one final erotic groan, you contracted around his fingers. In a way that you could only describe as a rubber band snapping, you shivered at the feeling of a release in your body. Something within your lower stomach felt like a blissful fire that spread throughout your legs, and then your chest, and finally your arms. You were twitching in Jake’s grasp, holding him close to you in an attempt to control the muscle spasms. Jake stroked your hair as you choked on air, helping you to ground yourself once again. Your fingers had surely left marks on the soft skin of his back, but he didn’t seem to mind.

You felt so dirty for the thoughts in your mind at that very moment. Though you truly had no experience in all of this, you wanted him to fuck your brains out. You wanted his mouth everywhere on you, leaving marks all over for you to touch later on and remember exactly how his tongue felt against it. You wanted him to watch you fall apart at the very touch of his fingers, smiling as he listened to you moan out into the night. You wanted him to make you cum, even though had only first experienced it just seconds prior. You wanted him, all of him.

As he looked at you with extreme adoration, you kissed him with salacity. He hummed into your mouth as your fingers found the waistband of his boxers. You tugged on them, and he pulled them down his legs, never breaking the kiss. Your hands traced down his stomach softly before reaching his cock. He gasped into your mouth as you began to stroke him, increasing the speed at which your hands moved with each sound that left his mouth.

He pulled your hips closer to his dick in a swift motion, gripping your ass between his hands.

He patted it softly, and then lifted his hand to slap it experimentally. You inhaled at the contact, but as his hand smoothed over the tender skin, you whined against his mouth. You couldn’t get enough of him.

He broke away from the kiss, planting a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth before looking you in the eyes.

“You’re sure about all of this? We don’t have to-”

“I’m sure Jake, I want to do this with you,” you cut him off before he could even suggest the furthest thing from your mind right now. You noticed his eyes flicker between your eyes and your lips before a smile broke out across his lips. He whispered a sweet, “Okay” before meeting your lips again.

From the compartment against the door, Jake fished out a condom, ripping the package while keeping your tongue swirled against his. He leaned back to place the condom over himself, looking at you as you inched closer to him. His fingers lightly tapped the cheek of your ass, and you lifted your hips in response.

You shimmied even closer to him until he had himself lined up with your entrance. He focused on your eyes as you lowered yourself on his member.

You both took in a sharp breath as your hips lowered to meet his. Your hands found themselves planted on his shoulders yet again, one curling beneath his arm to wrap around him. Jake moved slightly, attempting to bring you just a bit closer to him. Your hips jolted at the contact of your clit to his pelvic bone.

“You okay, babe?” He moved the hair away from your face, planting a kiss on your cheek.

“Yes, just move,” you whispered into his ear.

You felt his hips softly buck into yours, and although it wasn’t necessarily the feeling you thought it would be, his twitching dick inside of you felt almost narcotic. You wanted more of it, more of him.

Your hips began to subconsciously rock against him in an attempt to garner more pleasure. His head fell back against the headrest, eyes locking on yours.

Now it was your turn to watch him fall apart beneath you. His hands were languidly rubbing circles on your hip bones, and you tensed your jaw as you bounced on his dick, reveling in the sounds he was producing.

“Fuck, (Y/N), you’re so good. You feel so good, babe.” He choked on his words as your hips collided with his to create the harmonious sound of you two searing with absolute pleasure.

In an instant, his hand was between your legs, lazily running circles against your clit once again. Your hips stilled as a result of his touch. He wrapped his arm around your waist, pounding up into you with all that he could muster.

Your hips were sore from the odd angle you had been in for well over an hour, but you didn’t care. You had never been in such a state of serenity. No drug or beverage could amount to the sheer dopamine you had soaring through your veins this very minute.

“Fuck, I’m close, are you close, baby?” He left a string of kisses down your neck as his fingers worked overtime on your clit.

As much as you wanted to tell him you were, your voice was impossibly raw, and all you could produce was a restless nod.

You pressed yourself tightly to Jake’s chest, his hand stuck between your sweaty bodies. You could feel the band in your stomach stretching to the brink before the fire spread throughout your body once again. Your moans rang through the interior of the truck, and Jake used them as motivation to reach his own climax.

He let a moan of your name rip through his throat, and you mentally noted how fucking hot he sounded when he came. He bucked his hips, waiting for his dick to twitch one final time as an indication that his high had ended.

As he huffed against your collarbone, he placed a line of sweet kisses against the skin there. He leaned back against the seat, taking your head in his hands and kissing your hair softly.

Maybe you were reading into the moment too much, but it all seemed so tender. He lifted your hips off of his, tying his condom and throwing it in a trash bag on the floorboards. He motioned for you to come over to him once you had both finished getting dressed. You leaned against his side, resting your head on his shoulder as you admired the night sky through the foggy windows.

“What did you think of it all?” He stroked the skin of your arm, drawing simple circles across it.

You hummed as you exhaled a deep breath before placing his hand on your knee. You looked up at him, smiling as he felt your legs bouncing from the post-orgasm muscle spasms you were experiencing.

He let out a light-hearted laugh, the sound rumbling through his chest and vibrating against your shoulder.

“How about you?”

He caressed your cheek in his hand, looking you in the eyes and placing a sweet kiss on your lips.

“It’s the best I’ve ever had.”

You playfully smacked his chest, rolling your eyes at his lame joke.

“No but it really was perfect. I’ve never felt that good before.”

For God knows what reason, you blushed at his statement. He must’ve noticed because when you looked back up to him, he had a full smile across his face, showcasing his flawless teeth.

After checking the time and seeing that it was nearly 2 in the morning, Jake raced along the dirt roads to your house, eliciting the most pure sounds of joy from you as you held onto the “oh shit” handles in his old truck.

As he pulled up to the front of your house, you looked at him with a weak smile, not really wanting to leave the hospitality that his presence offered.

“So when can we practice next?” The smug tone in his voice brought what seemed to be your hundredth blush that night across your cheeks.

“You tell me and I’ll rapunzel my way out of my window again.”

He squinted at you before breaking into that big and beautiful smile once again.

He told you goodnight, waving as he pulled out of your driveway. You followed his headlights down the road with your eyes, your heart feeling like it was being stretched across your rib cage. This was not the first unfamiliar feeling this evening brought to you, but this one wasn’t welcomed like the others.

As you laid still in your bed, replaying tonight’s events, you couldn’t help but smile at the mental vision of Jake’s smiling face. His eyes beaming bright as he looked over at you, taking a corner a little too sharp and watching you yell to him about focusing on the road. His laugh danced with the soulful music blaring through the speakers, and the memory seemed too good to be true.

In that moment, you questioned the true incentive behind your thoughts. They were just memories, ones that brought a smile to your face. They brought a smile to your face because they were fun, right?

It couldn’t possibly be because you had caught feelings. No, you two were just teenagers having fun and working on mysteries without any clues. You were both just living in the moment, and that’s where these thoughts were from.

“Just friends, just friends.” You repeated the saying in your head until it was the lullaby that put you to sleep.

Laying there in the dead of the night, thinking of Jake Kiszka’s radiant self, you half wondered how anyone could still use that line. But you knew why, of course. It was used because people still believed it. Or at least they wanted to.

..

[littlemisslipbalm]

A billion light years from here

A Homesick Alien Josh Kiszka AU

A special thanks to @ofthecaravel without you none of this would have been possible. My brain couldn't have expanded upon Josh potentially being an alien without you lol. More installments to come, potentially. There's just so much evidence to suggest the Kiszkas are aliens...Also I'm so soft for homesick alien josh you guys !!!

gif credit to @edgeofgreta (not sure if shes still on here but I found this on pinterest and saw the bottom right and wanted to tag!)

Word Count: 3.1k | Warnings: swearing, brothers being brothers, idk alien stuff, sci-fi inaccuracies, mythology/constellation alien names, dw about it i think... no reader just bros vibing

Enjoy! and as always pls reblog and let me know what you think

-

Josh and his brothers had been on Earth for a long time now. Assimilating had been relatively easy for Sam and Jake. They loved this planet, especially compared to their home. Josh wasn’t sure he agreed with his brothers. 

He missed the high mountains with crystals that swirled around their tops. He missed the beach with its silver water lapping at his toes. He missed the stars he could see so clearly from his home planet. Ones that didn’t even appear in the Earth’s night sky. He missed his cosmos and the vibrations of the matter on his planet. He missed its rings that were perfect for skating on top of. He missed being understood. 

No terrestrial language could encompass some of his thoughts. He always attempted to be understood here but found that he ended up confusing more people. It’s why it stung when people said they couldn’t understand what he was saying in their songs. It was the closest he could get to explaining what it felt like when he was home. 

On Earth, he’d often find himself sitting on beaches and tops of mountains, attempting to replicate the locations he found comfort in on his home planet. His toes resting in sand or tall grass. His eyes cast upon the night sky, searching in his mind the image of his home, a billion light years from here. He longed for the familiarity of his home, as welcoming as Earth had been. 

He loved that his brothers had found solace on this planet. It had taken them a long time to settle on Earth. But Sam had been insistent and like the youngest sibling he was, he managed to win over his brothers. 

Frankenmuth was chosen due to its easy accessibility with their spaceship. The woods were a great place to hide it. The weather in the Midwest also was the closest to their home planet’s climate. Cold. Certainly not as cold as the home planet, but they wanted to go where people were on the Earth. English had also been the easiest language for them to learn. Josh just always had trouble perfecting his midwestern accent, always sounding a little different than the rest. Sam’s was perfect. Jake had watched a few to many western cowboy movies in preparation making his voice raspier. 

In their terrestrial youth, Jake had quickly learned about the existence of the guitar and found it endlessly entertaining. He enjoyed making music so much that he preferred to occupy his time with playing rather than interacting with humans. Sam just liked the earthly pleasures, he liked that he could do whatever he pleased when he pleased. It also helped that he found humans so fun to play with, either judging them to be worthy of his time or finding them amusing for their stupidity. 

When he had met Daniel, he had quickly brought him home and told his brothers that he had found a ‘human pet.’ The twins were quick to correct Sam and tell him that you were supposed to call them ‘best friends.’ Sam had nodded and Danny had smiled nervously before laughing hysterically when Sam explained that he had only been confused since they were all aliens and ‘best friend’ wasn’t a term in their native language. After years of trying to explain to Daniel that they were serious, the Kiszkas gave up and just laughed along with him when they mentioned alien matters. 

When Jake decided to start the band, the rest of the brothers agreed to make him happy. Family was everything to them. When the band took off, Josh was happy he got to dress up because he could make his stage outfits resemble their home planet's clothes. Growing up on Earth had been confusing for Josh for a multitude of reasons, but he never really got a handle on their fashion and had trouble with dressing himself. Eventually he grew content to have his daily wardrobe consist of five articles of clothing with multiple replicas of them. He found most comfort in the white t-shirt, khakis and yellow jacket combination. The only time he felt truly like himself was on stage in the jumpsuits. His body swaddled like the planet’s clothes. Safe and secure and sparkly with stardust. Except Earth didn’t have stardust, just sequins and rhinestones. He made do. 

With many of his clothes he also added the insignia of what essentially was their family crest from the home planet. The triangle with lines through it. It calmed him to be surrounded by the symbol, reminding him that he was a part of something greater than himself. 

Still, the ways he attempted to mute his homesickness were not quite enough. He hadn’t been home in almost 27 Earth years. Sam was lucky, he thought, he had been too young to go first, making Jake and Josh journey there first and then have Sam be sent to them. It meant he had been at home more recently than his older brothers. 

An Earth week before the anniversary of Jake and Josh’s arrival on the planet, Josh decided to ask his brothers for something he had been thinking about for a while. A way to placate his homesickness. 

“You know, our arrival anniversary is coming up and I’ve been thinking,” Josh starts, quietly, nervously. 

“Birthday, Josh,” Jake corrects, head facing the ceiling, body sprawled on the couch.

“Whatever, same thing,” He sighs. “I was thinking, you, me and Sammy could go on a road trip.”

Sam’s head turns to the conversation now that he’s heard his name. 

“Oh,” Jake’s ears perk at the idea of an adventure. He loved to travel. “Where to?”

“Home.” Josh says, voice still soft, pleading. 

“You want to road trip to Frankenmuth? That’s so boring, Josh,” Sam whines.

“Why not somewhere we’ve never been before?” Jake tries to reason. 

“Not Frankenmuth,” Josh stops them from coming up with some fantastical earthly roadtrip. “Except to get the ship. I mean our real home.” 

“Oh…” This gets Jake’s attention. “Josh. Are you sure?” 

“We haven’t gone home in almost 27 Earth years, Jacob. That’s almost a million years at home. I miss it so fucking much it hurts.” Josh puts his hand over his chest, where his heart beats, where it aches. 

Jake can feel it. They were alien identical twins after all, more connected than any Earth twins ever could be. There’s no more discussion because he understands. 

“Alright,” Jake nods, looking his brother deeply in the eye. The very same eyes as the ones in his own head. “Roadtrip home coming right up.” 

“But!” Sam begins to protest. 

“Shut it, Sam.” Jake stands and shoots his younger brother a look. “It’s our arrival anniversary, our wish. You’re coming.” 

Josh beams, feeling like he was already flying over the moon. Sam huffs and grumbles a little before stalking off, but deep down he knows he’d do anything for his brothers. 

One week later, the three of them are trekking into the woods behind their Frankenmuth adolescent home. Josh is grinning at the sky as he walks ahead of his brothers, just one little backpack on his shoulders. 

Jake is carrying a guitar case with his acoustic on his back and a duffel in his right hand. He couldn’t bring the Les Paul. The electrical currents on their home planet would blow out the strings if he even tried to strum it when it was plugged into an amp. He had also brought his harmonica in case something went wrong with the acoustic. On his head sat his favorite black hat, wide brimmed enough to cover his face from the harsh rays of the suns at home. 

Sam was still the least happy about this journey to their home planet, dragging his feet as they walked. His backpack was packed to the brim with things he hoped would get him through this. Namely, enough edibles to keep him blissfully high throughout the trip. Another reason he loved Earth, recreational cannibus use. If only they could grow it on their home planet. 

“Are we sure Daniel can’t come?” Sam asks for the hundredth time as they walk upon the clearing where the spaceship was stored. 

“He wouldn’t be able to withstand the atmosphere there, Sam,” Jake sighs. “Do you want him to die?” 

“No,” Sam grumbles and kicks a shoe at the ground, his sneaker kicking up some dirt. “I just feel bad that he thinks we didn’t invite him to go to the Caribbean with us.” 

“We’ll be back before he knows it. Two weeks there is just a day here. The only reason we’re going to be gone for an Earth week is all the travel time,” Josh reasons, finishing uncovering the entire machine that had brought them here in the first place. 

They walk up into the ship and begin to get settled. It looked the same as it did 26 years ago, completely maintained. Sometimes Josh would come out and visit it when they still lived in Michigan, sitting inside and pretending like he was flying home. He’s the one who kept it clean. 

Jake climbs into the pilot’s seat and Josh sits beside him. Sam stays in the cabin, never allowed to go near the cockpit after his fifth arrival anniversary. 

Jake fiddles with some switches after getting comfortable, making sure his hat was on just right and his braid was in place. 

One last switch is flicked by his left hand, it turns a glowing red and the ship hums to life. He grins, the sound welcoming and familiar. Josh watches his twin, clearly pleased by his behavior. 

“Captain Jacob Thomas Kiszka, reporting for duty,” Jake says into the intercom, the smile never leaving his face as he looks to his twin and hears Sam’s groan. “Let’s hope for smooth sailing.” 

Josh fiddles with some switches on his side and the radio buzzes to life. Jake requests something and Josh shuts his eyes and concentrates. Soon enough the radio hums with static and then the song Jake wants is playing. 

When the ship touches down on their home planet, Sam blinks the sleep from his bleary eyes and looks out the window. Seeing it for the first time in 24 years is a little shocking even for him. When he left, he felt no sorrow for what he was leaving behind. Certain that Earth was superior to this quiet planet, but seeing his first true home once more left him breathless. It was tranquil and vast. The landscape unlike any place on Earth, the colors more vibrant than any artificial color produced by those companies on Earth that were quickly ruining it. He found himself unexpectedly smiling, just a little bit. He still would choose Earth over here every day of his life. 

Once Jake had parked them in the ship lot on the silver sea, Josh rushed out of the ship first. His eyes are as wide as could be and they sparkle in the fading light of the first sun of their planet. He turns around himself looking at everything and anything before beginning to ramble, immediately slipping back into their native language now that they are home. 

Jake quirks a brow, almost instinctively going to stop Josh from speaking it, but realizing that it was fine. It’s actually calming to him to hear Josh speak in his native tongue, his thoughts more ordered than in English. Even if Jake usually knew what Josh meant in English, it was nice to hear his brother relaxed in his speech. 

Sam heard it too and shook his head before swearing in English, “I’m not speaking that shit, even if we’re here. It’s not necessary, everyone here probably knows Earth English by now.” 

Josh sighs, continuing in their native tongue, “You don’t know that. It’s just because you’re rusty, wee one.” Little shit wasn’t exactly a term in the language. 

Sam rolls his eyes. 

They arrive at the resort they decided to reside at during their two week long visit after going through intergalactic customs. It wasn’t very official but the ones who lived on this planet who had been to Earth before thought it was an interesting concept to have when traveling to different countries and had implemented one on their home. It was mostly just to make sure that travelers who arrived on the planet knew what they were doing and how to get around. 

Sam got in a bit of trouble with the customs agent when he tried to refuse to speak one of the accepted languages, but Josh stepped in for him. 

“He’s a part of our family. Forgive him, he’s rusty at the language. We’ve been on Seven for many moons.” 

The agent understood and nodded before asking, “Names.” 

“Jacob Thomas Kiszka.” Jake says confidently before frowning. “Oh. Forgive me. Pollux Geminorum Zaskkis.” 

“Castores Geminorum Zaskkis,” Josh says easily before elbowing Sam to speak. 

“Regulus Aries Zaskkis,” He huffs and rolls his eyes again, hip jutting out with his arms crossed as he stands beside his older brothers. 

“It’s so classic that your names here would have a pretentious meaning on a planet one billion light years apart,” Sam says as they walk away. 

“And yours doesn’t?” Jake quips. 

“Things are connected very mysteriously, indeed, Sammy.” Josh replies. 

Sam smiles at his brother still using his Earth name and for that he is grateful. 

Josh was happy to go off on his own for the majority of their trip, visiting all of his favorite places. The crystal mountains, the rings, the forests, the ice caps, all of it just as beautiful as he remembered. Mid-week on the planet, he insisted that Jake and Sam come with him to the beach. 

“You guys love the beach, come on! The water is silver,” Josh adds as if that is the biggest attraction of the beach. 

Jake and Sam agreed, albeit begrudgingly, if only to placate their brother and have a chance to be shirtless once more. On the home planet they were required to wear jumpsuits. Josh loved the safety, but Jake and Sam were rather put off by them. Constricting as fuck, they both put it. Hence why they reveled in going shirtless on Earth so often. It also helped bring down their body temperatures on Earth, their blood running hotter than humans. Danny always mentioned it when standing beside the Kiszkas. Human furnaces, he’d say and the brothers would laugh. 

At the beach, they were able to shed the uniforms which was relieving, but the pair still sat there unhappily watching as Josh hung out where the sand met the silver. He swore it was the best place to watch the star fights happening just beyond the small atmosphere of the planet. 

Jake had his big black hat low on his head, half-moon glasses pushed against his face as well. On the beach it was hot, hotter than anywhere else on the planet. It made his already hot blood uncomfortably warm. His red shorts were hiked around his thighs attempting to allow himself to potentially tan. 

At least they had margaritas to cool them off, he thought, as he watched Sam return from the beach bar. The drinks in his hands were in huge mugs with curly vibrant colored straws in them. Jake grimaced at them. 

Sam sat beside his older brother after handing him his drink. They had matching red striped beach chairs, the one to Jake’s left was vacant with Josh off on his own. Sam slumps after a sip of his margarita. 

“This doesn’t help,” He sighs after sucking down half of it. The straw hat that adorned his head sat hard on his head, pointy and prickly from disuse. He had to buy one at the tourist shop when he realized he forgot to pack a hat. Now who’s laughing at my hat, jackass, Jake had said when Sam had returned from the store. Deciding something, Sam sits back up and rummages in his tote bag he had brought before producing a soda can. 

Upon further inspection one would realize that this was a drinkable Sam had brought from Earth. As he cracks the tab, a thought flashes in his mind about pressurization, but the thought is seconds too late. The drink is exploding from the small opening and Jake is cackling with laughter as it flies directly into Sam’s face. 

Sam, ever the youngest sibling, opens his mouth and attempts to get as much of the liquid in his mouth as possible as the pressurized liquid continues to pound into his face. 

Only five minutes later, Josh is returning to his brothers from the water, skin glistening silver from his swim. Droplets falling around his body as he shakes his head like a dog. 

“What the hell happened to you?” He asks the drenched version of his little brother sitting beside a still chuckling Jake. 

Sam’s hair is wet and his straw hat is now limp, but his eyes are droopy and he has a bit of a content look on his face. Even if the pressurization was different on this planet, so was the way weed affected them. He was already unbelievably stoned. 

“Space boys make do,” He grins lazily, his right hand making a finger gun at his oldest brother. 

This time, Jake falls out of his beach chair in laughter, yelping slightly from the warm sand but still too caught up in Sam’s behavior. 

“Drinkable,” Jake finally responds after clambering back into his chair. 

Josh nods understandingly. “Just smoke joints Sammy, like an adult,” He says as he goes to sit beside his twin. 

His hair is already drying, the curls scrunching up from the long form they had been in from the water. He looks over at Jake and the sleeping Sam beside him, the cosmos laid out just behind them on the beach. Other residents mingled around the beach but for the most part, Josh felt like he was alone on the planet with his brothers. 

He breathes the fresh air deeply. “I love you both so much. Thank you for doing this with me. I am happy to have come back.” 

Then he looks up at the sky directly above him. “I will be happy to go home, though.” 

Jake smiles beneath his hat and then glances slightly at his brother, watching him contemplate the universes. 

“This will always be home too, Josh. They both will be.” 

They grin at one another for a careful moment before moving in tandem, telepathically deciding to play a prank on their little brat of a brother. The twins surround Sam’s chair and his sleeping figure, before tiptoeing with him to the shore. A big splash is heard and then in English, a roaring yell of “What the fuck?!” 

[groggyvanfleet]

chapter 2: the agreement

summary: after an unfortunate turn of events you're faced with an agreement, on that you didn't know of.

word count: 4.2k

(warnings! slight nsfw themes, mentions of blood, weapons, language, violence (punching), please let me know if i forgot anything)

A week. You had been at Castle Leoch for a week. It felt like an eternity. The days weren’t so hard as you spent time in the kitchen with Mrs. Fitz, helping her prepare meals and other duties but the nights were the worst. You’d lay in bed and just cry, cry out for your parents, your brothers, your home, home. You weren’t even sure if you'd ever get back. The thought of never seeing your family again only made your wails louder, how you haven't woken anyone up was beyond you.

As a new day began, you were sat in the chair of the small vanity, Mrs. Fitz behind you as she slowly brushed your hair, a sorrowful look plastered on your face.

“What's wrong dear?” she said, stilling the brush in your hair.

“Mrs. Fitz, can I tell you something?” she nodded her head “Of course you can.” turning around to face her, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves before speaking.

“I’m not from here, from this time. I was on vacation with my family…in the year twenty-twenty two..two hundred years from now. It was Samhain and I went to Craig Duain and touched the stone and somehow I ended up here. I don’t think I can ever return to my time.” as her face contorted into fear she began backing away from you, gripping her chest. “I have to get back to the stone.”

“I see you for what you are now.”

“What?”

“Be done, evil demon! I abjure thee!” she yelled out, turning away to escape, you chasing after her. “No, Mrs. Fitz..”

“I’m a good Christian woman! I’ll not let you spell me.” she screamed as you grabbed her arm, attempting to bring her back, her fighting against your hold.

“Witch! Witch!”

“Mrs. Fitz, no!” you yelled out, a hand coming across your face, bringing you back to reality. There you still sat in the small wooden chair, the woman who you had imagined slapped you, still brushing your hair.

“Oh, aye.” she said, hands still at work “Hundred of Kiszkas will be turning up in the next few days for the gathering. Are you listening to me, child?”

“Sorry, what? Gathering? I’m not familiar with that term.” you said, bringing your head up.

“Tis where all the Kiszka men come from Poland come and plight their oath to the clan in hope of protection from Kelly. You see child Poland’s aristocracy is falling, every wealthy person being

driven to all parts of the world. Young Kelly and Karen narrowly escaped with the wee ones, including Danny, poor boy his parents didn’t make it so they decided to take him in. Last gathering was decades ago when Kelly was made laird. I’m fair glad you’re here to handle the physicking. You do well with that. They will not forget it.” she explained, setting down the brush on the vanity before moving onto the next task. If you could get in Kelly and Dougals good graces, perhaps they would trust you enough to finally be able to leave on your own, without the watch of guards.

~~~~

Walking into the grand hall for dinner once again all eyes on you as you made your way to your designated seat. Standing up, Jake pulled out your seat for you, muttering a quiet thank you as you sat down. Eating the meal in front of you, Josh looked over at you, a small smirk on his lips.

“Mistress, do you have a husband?” he asked, making you choke slightly on the food.

“Pardon?” you asked after you had swallowed your food successfully this time.

“Well a beautiful lass like you must already be married.” Josh said. Shaking your head at him you let a small smile play on your lips.

“No, I am not married.” you replied, your confession making Josh shoot a wink at Jake, who had a small blush on his cheeks. Was Josh asking if you were married for Jake? Was Jake too shy to ask himself?

“Mistress Evers.” Kelly said, grabbing your attention. “I have a question to ask ye.”

“Yes, my laird?”

“Our castle has been without a healer for quite some time. I was hoping you would take the position seeing since you bandaged up young Jacob here and fever hasn’t carried him off yet.” Kelly was asking you to stay, indefinitely, meaning your chances of returning home were nonexistent anymore.

“Certainly sir, I’d love to.” you lied.

~~~~

A few of Kelly’s men show you what the past healer liked to call his ‘surgery’, a dungeon-esque room filled with books on medicine, an assortment of herbs, amongst other things that could be used for this time period.

“You know the uses for these positions and such?” one of them asked. Nodding your head the men grunted and took off, leaving you alone in the cold, dark and damp room. Grabbing onto your stomach you brought yourself down to the ground slowly as broken sobs left your mouth, the sounds bouncing off the stone walls causing a small echo. The realization had set in that you would never go home, that you were destined to spend the rest of your days here.

“For headache, take ye one ball of horse dung. It is to be carefully dried.” you muttered to yourself, pacing around the surgery as you read from one of the books. Medicine and caring for those of Castle Leoch seems the most logical way for you to earn their trust, but in order to do that without raising suspicion, you’d have to find a way to apply 21st century medicine using only the methods and equipment available in the 18th century.

Picking up a small jar labeled ‘slaters’ you popped the lid off, dumping its contents into the palm of your hand. Small brow shaped things cupped in the palm of your hand you soon realized them to be bugs. Letting out a yelp you threw them down onto the ground, wiping your hand off on the skirt of your dress. “Woodlice! Jesus Christ!”

As you moved around the surgery, tidying up to your liking, one of Kelly’s men stood at the door, Angus was his name you found out, keeping a watchful eye on you as you moved about. Alongside the jars of pigeons’ blood, ant eggs, and powdered human skull, whose you wondered. There were a number of herbs and extractions in the old healers collection that might actually be helpful.

As the days moved along countless people came to you with wounds that needed tending, ranging from men to small children. The man who was supposed to be your guard began to spend his time in the kitchen with one of his friends while you were seeing patients. You told yourself this was a good sign of trust, a feeling he would hopefully share with Kelly and Dougal.

“Excuse me, gentlemen.” you said, placing your body in front of the two men who had mugs of whatever alcoholic drink. “I could use some help in the surgery. The discarded medicines need to be disposed of.” your voice with a stern and commanding tone.

“What are you two drunkards still doing taking up space in my kitchen? If you’re not working here, be gone with ye.” Mrs. Fitz said, pointing at the two men.

“We’re just following orders. Keeping an eye on this one.” Angus slurred.

“Oh, and has she been hiding at the bottom of your mug for the past two hours?” Mrs. Fitz countered, making you giggle out as you shoved a few berries into your mouth. Suddenly the sound of a plate crashing grabbed everyone's attention, Mrs. Fitz ran over to the woman who stood there, small cries coming from her.

“Oh, Shona. Dinna fash yourself over this. Go on home now. Be with your other wee bairns.” Mrs. Fitz said with a comforting tone as she ushered the woman out of the kitchen. Walking over to Mrs. Fitz, planting yourself beside her as she resumed her work. “Who was that?” you asked.

“Kelly’s chambermaid.” she said, looking at you for a brief moment,

“Is she going to be all right?” you asked, truly wondering if she was okay.

“Aye, in time. Her boy died last night, wee Lindsey Mchale.” she said, crossing her fingers over her body, the guards doing the same.

“What happened? Why did nobody come and get me?”

“Oh, Miss, what ailed wee Lindsey has no mortal cure.”

“He went up to an eaghais dhubh, he did. Cursed land full of demons.” Angus spoke up, shivering at the words. Nodding your head, deciding not to push further into the uncomfortable subject.

~~~~

Mrs. Fitz had requested your help with gathering food for the kitchen. Grabbing a small wicker basket and venturing out past the walls of the castle. Walking across the field a small herd of sheep enjoying the green grass you found a sense of pleasure in touching growing things once more, your mother always said you had a green thumb as your apartment was always filled with lively green plants, and felt the satisfaction of helping them thrive. In your past when you weren’t on long shifts at the hospital you would be home, reading through a book of different plants and flowers, studying their uses, which ones were safe and which ones could kill you in a minute.

Bending down you saw a small cluster of mushrooms growing on the side of the tree. Picking a piece off and bringing it up to your mouth to blow the dirt off.

“Those kind are poison.” a voice came, startling you, making you jump and hit your head off a low hanging tree branch, a small laugh coming from the mysterious voice at your mishap. Turning around you saw a woman draped in a light blue cloak, red fiery hair peeking through.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh.” she said.

Sighing you let yourself laugh at the situation as well “I imagine it was funny from over there. Thanks for the warning though, but I do know those mushrooms are poisonous” you said, removing your hand from the spot on your head.

“Who is it you're planning to do away with?” she asked, her cheery voice came across “Your husband, perhaps? Tell me if it works and I’ll try it on mine.” laughing at her statement you walked over to the area she was sitting at, bending down to inspect the herbs beside her in the small garden.

“Actually...Now, while the caps of these mushrooms are poisonous, you can make a powder out of the dried fungi. It's very effective in stopping bleeding when applied topically” you explained.

“Fancy that. My name is Geillis. Geillis Duncan.” She introduced herself.

“I’m sorry I should’ve introduced myself. My name is-”

“I know who you are, Y/n” she cut you off “The village has been humming with talk of ye since you came to the castle.”

“What is it they’re saying about me?” you inquired, hoping it was all good things.

“That you’re likely a Sassenach spy.” she said, rising from her spot and walking closer to where you were bent down at. “You know, those will start bleeding.” pointing at the pale purple flowers behind you, making you turn back to look at them. “To get rid of a child you don’t want, brings on your flux. But only if you use it early. Too late, and it can kill you as well as the child. The girls in the village come to me every now and again for such things.” she said walking behind you. “They say I’m a witch.”

“...Are you?”

“Hardly. Although I am aware of how wood betony can transform toads into pigeons.” she ended with a chuckle, you returning one. “You should come visit me sometime down in the village. I have a cabinet full of potions and medicinal I wager would tickle your fancy. But I hope I’ll see you tonight at the hall.”

“The hall?”

~~~~

The sound of bagpipes filled the room as the crowd separated as Kelly and his men walked in, you standing beside Geillis as you watched him make his way to his seat. Taking his seat he held up his hand, the music instantly stopping as the man in the corner of the room announced a name.

“Masters William Talbot and Fingal Duncan, will ye stand forth?” two men walked up to where Kelly was, stopping just shy of a few feet as one began speaking Gaelic. Turning to Geillis in hopes of translation she returned the look back. “They’re neighbors.” she said softly only for you to hear. “Having a dispute over a cow.” making you both chuckle lightly.

“A cow?” you questioned, finding the idea funny of men arguing over cattle. Kelly continued the conversation in the same language, ending his sentence as the room filled with laughter at the end. As the laughter died down you turned back to Geillis.

“He says. Well, let me see..”

“It’s all right. I have quite the feeling something would be lost in translation.” you said, bringing your attention back to the man who made the announcements throughout the night, Geillis translating the whole time for you.

A young woman was brought forth to Kelly, a man gripping her arm as she looked at the floor, as the man began speaking.

“Uh-oh.” Geillis said, pressing her fingers to her lips. “Her father accuses her of loose behavior.'' The emotion in the room was tense and on edge as the man continued, the girl trying to break free of her fathers grasp. “Her father wishes the Kiszkas to have her punished for disobedience.” turning your head you could see Jake standing with his brothers, arms crossed over his chest as he watched intently. Kelly spoke, murmurs coming from the onlookers as Jake turned to Josh, whispering in each other's ears. Four men surrounded the girl, grabbing each arm to secure her, your attention still on the twins as Josh now had a hand to Jake’s chest before he shouted out something, making the room gasp out. Moving from his brother to his father you watched as he made eye contact with the girl before turning to his father and speaking to him in the language they had been all night. “He’s offering to take the girl’s punishment.” Geillis said with a bit of hurry in her voice.

“What.” you said unbelievably. “But he’s still injured.” Geillis just nodded her head. The man and Jake begin speaking back and forth “They're arguing it now.” she translated. Kelly spoke up, ceasing the argument, the look of relief on the girl's face at his words, a smirk playing on Jakes. “He allows it.” Soon the positions were changed, Jake taking the girls place as she ran off to the side where Mrs. Fitz had appeared, embracing the old woman with small cries. Jake spoke up one last time, murmurs filled the air once more. “He chooses fists.” scoffing, you shook your head. “Fists?” Geillis nodded. “Rather than the whip.” Josh walked up his brother, pulling him in “If ye’d wanted a beating. I’d been happy to oblige ye.”

“Aye, but…You might have done some real damage.” Jake replied back.

“Watch yourself, brother. Our uncle is up to something.” Jake smirked and scoffed at his brother's words. A man situated himself in front of Jake, turning around to look at Kelly who simply nodded before the man landed a blow to Jake’s stomach making him keel over before regaining his composure with a chuckle as the man landed another blow moving behind Jake as he brought his knee up, connecting with Jake’s back. Turning to Geillis, worry painted on your face “How long must this go on for?” you whispered.

Looking back at you, a piece of her red hair twisting between her fingers “Only until blood’s drawn. Usually when their nose is broken.”

A blow landed right on Jake’s nose making you suck in a deep breath at the sound. Coming back up Jake spit out blood that entered his mouth onto the ground. “This is barbaric.” you hissed, disgusted at the fact this was a punishment a father had let his son take. More blows landed on Jake, each one to a different part of his body till one last hard punch sent him to ground, blood flying from his nose, groans coming from the crowd. You attempted to run up to him but was stopped by Geillis. “Y/n, stay here.” she said softly, holding onto your arm. Josh walked over to his brother, extending an arm to help him up as Jake glared at his father and uncle as he walked up and bowed the best he could before walking away with Josh’s arm wrapped around him. Moving from your spot to follow them Geillis stopped you once more. “This way is quicker and you’ll stir less gossip.” she said, taking you by the arm as she led you down a secret way to the surgery where Jake was already waiting for you.

~~~~

“Here.” you said, pouring a mixture of warm water and herbs into a cup, handing it off to Jake who happily took it.

“Why did you do that?” you asked, grabbing his attention as he brought the cup down from his lips. “Take that girl’s punishment? Do you know her?” grabbing a wet cloth as you dapped at the blood that caked his face, grunts of pain coming from the man.

“Ken who she is.” he said with a grunt. “Haven’t really spoken to her, though.”

“Then why?”

“It would have shamed the lass to have been beaten in the hall before everyone that knows her. Taken a long time to get over it. It’s easier for me. I’m sore but I’m nae really damaged. I’ll get over it in a couple days.” he explained, you still dabbing at the cuts on his forehead, eyes staring right into each other.

Mrs. Fitz walked into the room, carrying a tray full of different plants. “Oh, here ye are, lad.” she said, setting the tray down on the table, mixing a liquid that was in a cup. “Rinse yer mouth with this. It’ll cleanse the cuts and ease the pain. Willow bark tea with a bit of ground orris root. Ground up well.” bringing the cup over to him, Jake taking it from her hands with a smile as took a mouthful quickly swallowing. “Top of life.” he said.

“What you did was kindly meant, lad.” Mrs. Fitz said softly, placing a loving hand on Jake’s shoulder. Turning her attention to you she explained how the girl was her granddaughter, a muffled sob in her words as she left, most likely to go back to her. Grabbing the cups and placing them on the table. “Take that bandage off your shoulder in the next two days.”

“Would it not be easier if you did that?” he asked, a smile still on his face.

“Yes, but I’ll be gone tomorrow. I’m visiting a friend down in the village.” you explained.

“Ah. I see.” he said, slight disappointment on his face as he stood up from the stool he was sitting on. Both of you stood there in silence, staring at each other before a loud crash came from up stairs, breaking the peaceful silence. Quickly grabbing his stuff Jake made his way up the stairs and back to the hall as you followed closely behind him. Reaching the hall you saw men in British army uniforms surrounding the guests, guns pointed at them ready to fire in case anyone stepped out of line.

“Now, tell me, where is the colonist?” the familiar voice rang in your ears. The same voice from the man who attacked you on the river bank when you first showed up. He was standing near Kelly, a gun pointed right at him. The sound of your approaching footsteps announced your arrival, making him turn back to look at you. “Ah there she is. Ma’am, please allow me to formally introduce myself.” he said, tucking the weapon back into his belt as he took off his hat. “I am Alexander Jonathan Remus, captain of his majesty's 8th dragoons. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

Standing up from his seat, Kelly drew the blade that was at his side, pointing it straight at the man. “We dinna care for who you are, what do you want with mistress Evers?”

“We have deduced that this woman is a stowaway from the colonies and we intended to take her back to where she belongs, now if you’d so kindly hand her into my custody if you may.” Alexander said, holding out his hand to you.

“She’s not going anywhere.” Jake seethed, drawing his blade as well. You moved yourself behind him, his free arm reaching behind him to make sure you were out of harm's way.

“Well so be it, if the woman is not brought to Fort Williams in three days we will come back and take her by force.” he said, collecting his men and just like that they were gone.

~~~~

“We do not have much time Captain Remus is expecting Mistress Evers to be delivered to him in two days. Now, we are all about to embark on a boat made entirely of paper. The letter of the law is the only thing keeping Y/n out of Remus’s hands. And so if it is to work, then we have to follow it to the letter. The marriage must be consummated right away and witnesses must swear that they were present in the building if not in the room itself.” Ned, the family lawyer, said to Kelly who was silent as thoughts raced through his head.

“Does Y/n know about all this?” Jake asked from beside Kelly.

“She has no say in the matter.” Dougal said. “She’s a smart lass. She’ll see the reason for it in the end.”

“It's settled then. I’ll make the announcement at tonight's gathering.” Kelly said, quieting down the room. All nodded in agreement.

~~~~

As the hall filled with chatter, men lined up in front of Kelly to swear their allegiance to him. You watched silently as they all spoke the same words over and over till the last one.

The crowd of people shuffled into the dining hall, taking seats wherever. Just as you were about to sit down one of the servants came over and stopped you. “The laird has requested that you sit at the family table beside Jake Mistress.” she said, leading you over to the open chair beside Jake. Sitting down you gave Jake a confused look, him returning one as well. Standing up, Kelly shouted out, making the room go quiet.

“After careful consideration from yesterday I have decided to announce the engagement of my son, Jacob Thomas Kiszka, to the lovely Y/n Evers!” the sentence leaving Kelly’s mouth, making your blood run cold and your body tense up. Grabbing your hand, Jake brought you both up from your seats as the room filled with cheers. You had just been informed that you were engaged, engaged to a man you’ve only known for a week.

~~~~

“You knew!” you screamed at Jake as you paced around your room. “You knew and you didn’t tell me!”

“It’s for yer own protection, lass.” he said standing up, placing his hands on your shoulder, stilling your body.

“They want us to be married and you’re willing?” you said.

“Well, ye’ve mended my wounds more than once. I feel I owe ye something for all that. Besides what kind of friend would I be if I left ye to that mad bastard Remus” Jake thought of you as his friend after a week, you barely knew anything about him and he was willing to marry you just so you could be protected?

“But surely there's someone else you're interested in?” you asked, hoping he would say yes.

“Oh, am I promised?” he said with a laugh. “No. I’m not much of a prospect for a wife. Most women don’t like it when their husbands are off everyday getting themselves shot.”

“So that’s it then. As far as you’re concerned we can just get married tomorrow?”

“Aye. Whatever suits ye.” he said, taking a seat on your bed.

“Jake, I’ve..I’ve laid with men before. Won’t it bother you that I’m..not a virgin?” you confessed, searching for an ounce of disgust and regret on his face at the situation he agreed to but what you saw was the complete opposite, his face was more nervous than anything.

“Well, uh, no. As long as it dosena bother that I am. I reckon one of us should ken what they’re doing.”

All you could do was stare at him in complete silence as he got up from the bed and left, bidding you a good night.

Getting ready for bed, the thoughts racing through your mind even as you laid in bed, all you knew was that tomorrow you would be married. A wedding full of people you didn’t know, a man who was now going to be your husband that you knew nothing about, a wedding where your family wasn't in attendance. A wedding where your father won’t get to walk you down the aisle, a wedding where your drunk friends would share the most embarrassing stories about you, a wedding you didn’t ask for. As tears began to slowly trickle down your face, landing on the pillow below your head, you cried yourself slowly into sleep, praying that the sun wouldn’t come up.

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[ourtearsofrain]

The Barbarians (D.R.W/S.F.K) - Chapter 1

Summary: Sam and Danny have spent their lives with The Hunger Games hanging over their heads. For Sam, it was his only opportunity to escape the shadow his victor older brothers cast over him, sweeping him off to the side. But for Danny, each year at the reaping he prayed to anyone who would listen that his name wouldn’t get called. As the 54th Annual Hunger Games roll around, both know it’s their last year included in the reaping. It’s Sam’s last chance to prove himself worthy of the Kiszka name, and Danny’s last chance at escaping the arena.

Pairings: Danny Wagner x Sam Kiszka (eventually)

Series Genre: angst, enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, fluff

Word Count: little over 3.3k

Warnings: AU typical events/threats/violence (later in the series), loss of parents

A/N: This fic has everything: homoerotic fight scenes, multiple nearly fatal injuries, extreme past and present trauma, a Dune quote. Plus, you can finish each chapter wanting to bang your/their heads into the wall for so many different reasons!

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Birthright Of Death

Sam

“I volunteer as the second male tribute.”

Jake’s words had haunted Sam for five years. For five years, he had lived under the twins’ shadows, their victory in the arena sending them straight to the top of The New World’s social queue. Sam knew they hadn’t done it to divert any attention towards themselves, yet he still felt that jealous pang in his chest every time anyone brought his brothers up. He knew the twins hadn’t been given a choice, but that didn’t change how he felt. When Josh was reaped as the first male tribute from District 1, Jake had volunteered immediately; knowing that his twin would have a better chance of making it through the games with him at his side, as The Garden allowed for two victors from the same district for the first time ever in celebration of the Second Quarter Quell.

During the games, Sam had spent every waking hour folded in front of his family’s Television, watching and waiting for any news of his brothers. Each time a cannon fired, his heart stopped as he prayed that neither of their faces would light up the small screen that night. He sat for days on end memorizing every move, every kill they made until eventually they were the last tributes still standing, knowing that one day it would be his turn in the arena. He would get his time in the spotlight, and while the twins’ victory was impressive, Sam would captivate them all. He would capture the hearts of sponsors and citizens alike, and when he won, he would join his brothers as The New World’s golden sons. He would be loved, he would be feared by all. This was his last year included in the reaping, and nothing was going to keep him from taking what was rightfully his.

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Monday, July 4th, 54 ADD

“Veronica, will you please hurry up?” Sam shouts the words across the house, impatience coursing through his body at how long his sister was taking to get ready. “I don’t even know why you care so much, you aren’t included in the reaping anymore.”

“Shut up, Samuel. You know how much focus will be on us, even with the twins gone to prepare to mentor their tributes. I won’t slander our family’s or district’s image by showing up looking as if I had just woken up.”

Sam says nothing, only rolling his eyes as he does one last once-over of himself in the mirror. He had been ready for hours, days, and he knew he looked like it. Pride fills him as he takes in his clean image: his best turtleneck sweater underneath a comfortable, yet fashionable button-up Joshua had given him from The Garden, his hair neatly parted with the shorter strands that framed his face swept to the sides, the rest of it in tangle free waves down to his shoulders. The two white gold chains lying across his collarbone, each adorned with a single emerald and sapphire, was the icing on the cake. They wouldn’t forget him, not with those. They’d be his “signature” items.

“If you’re so worried about being late, then leave without me.” His sister’s voice rips his attention from the mirror, startling him out of his daze.

“Fine. Just don’t take too long, if you really do care about our image.” His words are short and irritated as he makes his way through the house briskly, not even sparing a glance back as he slips out the door. Jealousy twists his stomach as he walks down the empty street, the large houses looming over him. He had no complaints about living in the victor’s village; the houses were larger, nicer, and away from the others in the district. They had better food, better clothes, better jobs, better lives. They were better than the others. But Sam wanted to earn it. He felt like an imposter; his brothers had earned that life for him, he hadn’t even lifted a finger. He had been swept to the side, forgotten about as the youngest, the nepo-sibling.

I’ll show them, I’ll fucking show them all. I refuse to be little Sammy, baby brother to the great Kiszka Twins, their “reason for winning” any longer. I won’t be a reason for victory anymore, I’ll be the winner, the victor, and I’ll finally have the respect I deserve. They’ll see.

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Sam didn’t even feel the finger prick as he entered the square, his adrenaline turning everything into a blur as he pressed his fingerprint into the paper, quickly finding his place in the crowd. President Sara Starcatcher’s video about the treason of the Districts, the reason for the games, becomes unintelligible mumbles as he zones it out. They had played it so many times that Sam had it memorized word for word. Finally, the escort for District 1, Electra something or other (Sam could never keep them straight in his head anymore), steps to the middle of the stage again, grinning at the crowd with vibrant blue lips.

“I always love that film!” Her smile doesn’t waver when she’s met with silence, clearing her throat quietly before continuing. “Now onto the main event!” Sam holds his breath as she moves to stand in front of the large glass bowl filled with paper. “Our male tribute from District 1 is… Aurelius Vale!”

Like fucking hell it is. “I volunteer as tribute!” Sam yells the words before Aurelius can make a move, all eyes turning to him immediately.

“Well, isn’t this something! Come over here, dear. Come up to the stage.” Ignoring the peacekeepers moving towards him, Sam nearly sprints to the stage with a smile, taking his place next to Electra. “Now, what’s your name?”

“Samuel Kiszka.” As hushed whispers flow through the crowd, Sam’s smile falters momentarily. Even in his moment, his brothers were still hanging over his head.

“Ah! And would you by any chance be related to the Kiszka Twins?”

“I am, they’re my older brothers.”

“Well, they must be very proud of you.” Sam’s face heats at the compliment, reveling in the idea that it would soon be the twins that were proud of him, not the other way around. “Now, onto our female tribute. This year’s tribute will be… Seraphina Goldwyn!”

Seraphina begins to move through the crowd with a sullen expression until another steps into the walkway, blocking her path. “I volunteer as tribute!”

As relief passes over Seraphina’s face, Sam’s expression drops as he sees who had volunteered. Fucking. Hazel. She’s been obsessed with me for years and won’t take a fucking hint that I don’t like her. I can’t believe she’ll go this far just to be around me, has she not thought this through? There can only be one victor. Despite his happiness being slightly diminished as Hazel joins him on stage, he forces the grin back onto his face as he shakes her hand. He was finally a tribute. He would finally be a victor.

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Funeral Of Innocence

Danny

Monday, July 4th, 54 ADD

Danny looks at himself in the small, dirty mirror hung on the wall of his shared room, taking a deep breath as he stares back at his reflection, the collar of his only nice button-up shirt stiff and tight around his neck and biceps. He had outgrown it long ago, but knew he would never have the money to replace it. It would have been stupid to do so now anyways, it was his last year being included in the reaping, and his stomach had been twisting in anxious knots for weeks. He had been lucky this far, and he had been careful this year; staying in line around peacekeepers, keeping his head down. He hadn’t even taken out extra food rations when winter hit District 7 harder than it ever had before, not wanting his name to be cast into the reaping lottery more than it already had been. Just breathe, Daniel. Your name is only in there seven times, you know people whose names are in the lottery over 30 times. You have nothing to fear.

Except he did. He had everything to fear. He had everything to lose. When he was 14, his parents had made the mistake of getting caught trying to smuggle extra food for him and his sister, Josephine. He had watched his father get shot by Peacekeepers trying to save his mother, a useless attempt in the end as she was dragged away to The Garden. Danny knew deep down that she was long dead. He also knew he could have hated his parents for risking their lives and leaving him to care for himself and his sister, but he couldn’t bring himself to. They had just wanted to keep their children alive. They hadn’t thought they would be killed for such a mild offense, they thought they would become Avox’s if caught, at the worst.

With his parents gone, it was up to him to look after Josephine. It was his job to keep them both safe and alive, and he had gotten good at it. If he had learned anything from the loss of his parents, it was how to not get caught, teaching himself to hunt and grow what measly crops he could right under the nose of the Peacekeepers constantly patrolling his district.

“Danny?” His sister’s quiet voice rips him out of his memories, and he turns to see her standing hesitantly at the door of their room, her hands nervously fiddling with the sleeves of her dress. “We should probably leave. Don’t wanna be late for the reaping.”

“Yeah, yeah we should. You look nice by the way, kid. I know the occasion is- what it is, but still.”

“Really? You think so?”

“Of course I do, Josie. You look like mom.” He feels the sting of tears behind his eyes as she smiles at him, everything about her truly reminding him of their mother.

“Thanks, Danny. And stop calling me Josie, I’m almost 15, I’m too old for baby nicknames.”

“Oh, so now that you’re all grown up, you’re too ‘adult’ to be called Josie, huh?” Smiling at her, he makes his way across the room, taking her hand and leading her through the main room of their small house and out the front door. “What would you prefer? Jojo? What about Fifi?”

“Stop itttt. You can call me Josephine, it’s proper and lady-like.”

“Yeah, alright Madam Josephine.”

“Shut up, Danny.” As they walk though the small, dirty street of their neighborhood, her smile slowly drops as others join them, a solemn march of those included in the reaping and their families.

He feels her hand shaking in his own, offering a slight squeeze of comfort. “It’s ok, Josie. We’re gonna be fine. We haven’t taken any extra food or clothes, and your name’s only in there 4 times. We should be fine.” Should be. We should be fine. Despite his words to his sister, Danny had given up hope long ago. It was dangerous to have hope, foolish. It only ever led to disappointment in his experience, and he didn’t want to be disappointed again. Thankfully, a familiar face joins them as they near the square, filing into the neat line to check into the reaping.

“Hey sexy, how you doing on this fine, grim morning?” David Welcsh, Danny’s best friend. If there was anyone else in his district that Danny could truly call family, it was him. David and his family had always been there for him and Josie when they needed, and he knew he could always count on them if something were to happen to him, leaving Josie alone.

“Oh, you know, the usual.” Danny tries to keep a smile from his face, David’s words lightening his mood slightly despite the circumstances. “How about you?”

“Not great, Danny boy. Not great. My name’s in that goddamn bowl near 25 times, had to take out food and clothes for the family over the winter. Four siblings and all that, so my chances are not lookin’ good.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine, winter hit everyone hard, there’s bound to be people who racked up more than you.” Danny’s heart drops at the thought of David’s name getting pulled. He couldn’t lose any more of his family, and he knew that he, like Danny, was the main source of incoming food for his own family.

“Whatever you say, Danny.” Their group says nothing more as Josie steps up to the table, her finger pricked and fingerprint taken before she looks back to Danny with wide eyes.

“Go on, Josie. Go find your place, I’ll find you after the reaping. It’s ok.” She nods slightly, fear still in her eyes before she turns from him and disappears into the crowd. After Danny and David both check in, they join the throngs of people filtering into the square, finding a spot on the male’s side as nervous, hushed whispers float through the air around them. “Hey Dave?”

“Hm?”

“If my- if my name gets pulled, I need you and your family to take care of Josie. She doesn’t know how to hunt yet, and she doesn’t know where I grow crops in hiding. I know you guys are struggling with you and your siblings already, but I can’t let her starve.”

“Of course, man. Is that even a question? You guys are honorary Welcsh’s, and I know you’d do the same for us if I get called. Why do you ask me, though? You’ll be fine, you’ve been stubborn enough to not take any extra food and not let me take any for you, what are you so worried about?”

“I don’t know… I just can’t shake this feeling I have. It’d be just my luck to get called this year, my last goddamn year.” Danny chews on the edge of his bottom lip, his eyes darting around the square, trying to find Josie. He feels slight relief when he finds her on the edge of the girls’ crowd, not too far from where he was, his mind calming when he sees that she was ok. Obviously terrified, but still ok.

“Relax, Dan. You’ll be fine.” As David gives his shoulder a light slap, the escort for their district takes the stage. She looked like The Garden’s mockery of 7, with wildflowers and feathers adorning her too-neat hair. Hues of green and gold painted onto her eyes, lips, and cheeks only sent the message that she knew nothing of 7; their district was only luscious, rich forests in her eyes. She knew nothing of the wildfires that destroyed much of their land on a regular basis, the accidents that often occurred deep in the woods. She had never seen a person crushed by a falling tree, nor an axe slipping from a young boy’s hands ending up embedded in another person’s head. She knew nothing of 7, and neither did The Garden.

The crowd becomes quiet as she steps in front of the microphone with a grin. “Welcome to the 54th annual Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor.” Met with silence once again, she continues, her infuriating smile unfaltering. “Before we begin the reaping ceremony, we have a very special, very important film straight from The Garden itself!”

“War, terrible war.” Danny tunes the rest of President Starcatcher’s speech out, rage overtaking him at the pure bullshit The Garden had been broadcasting to them for as long as he could remember. Where was The Garden’s protection when his parents were killed and taken? When he and his sister nearly starved every winter? Danny had known no protection from The Garden, and he had known no peace in his life. There was no honor or courage in the Games, and the only thing sacrificed was the lives of children, purely for The Garden’s enjoyment. Generosity and forgiveness were never given to any of the 12 districts, or at least never to any district not made up of Careers. Danny despised The Garden, and any district that played along as their pet, seemingly happy with the order of The New World.

Before Danny can further infuriate himself, the escort steps back up to the microphone as the video ends, wiping tears from her eyes delicately. “I love that film. Now, the time has come for us to choose one young man and woman for the honor of representing District 7 in this year’s Hunger Games.”

Danny’s heart freezes as she makes her way over to the large glass bowl in front of the male’s side of the square, reaching in and carefully pulling out a small piece of paper. She holds it high in front of her as she walks back to the microphone, unfolding it as she takes a breath, adding to their anticipation and dread. “The male tribute from District 7 is… Daniel Wagner.”

No. Danny feels as if he could throw up as all eyes turn to him, the boys around him taking a step back as if he were contagious. As if they’d be thrown into the arena with him if they stood too close. No, no, no, no. This can’t- this can’t be happening.

“Come on up.” The escort says the words with a smile, as if he should be happy to be picked. He wanted to punch her square in her perfect, white teeth.

“I’m so sorry, Danny.” David’s words are quiet and full of sorrow as he looks at his friend with tears in his eyes. Danny couldn’t respond, he didn’t know what to say or do except begin to shuffle through the crowd around him, trying his hardest not to cry as he walks towards the stage.

“No!” Josie breaks apart from the group as he passes her, tackling him in a hug around the middle as Peacekeepers rush to stop her.

He holds his hands up to them, hoping it would prevent them from taking any drastic measures out on her before moving them down to unwrap her arms from him. Bending to look her in the eye, he places his hands on either side of her face, his tone frantic and quiet. “It’s gonna be ok, Josie. Go back to the line and then find David when this is over. Everything’s gonna be ok.” His voice breaks as she looks up at him, tears streaming down her face as the Peacekeepers began to pull her back to her spot. “It’s ok, Josie.”

“No, no, please!”

“It’s ok, Josie. It’s ok.” When he ensures that she was safe once again, he resumes his path to the stage, Peacekeepers flanking him on all sides. They nudge him when he stops at the bottom of the steps to it, and he scrambles to gain control of his body once more.

Standing next to the escort, the urge to punch her only grew. I bet her fucking jewelry alone is worth enough to feed Josie and I for a year. She takes a step away from him, towards the bowl containing the female tribute’s names.

Danny had never been religious, but as she reaches into it and pulls another paper out, he prays to any god that will listen for his sister not to be reaped. Please not Josie, please not Josie, please not Josie. “Our female tribute from District 7 is… Daphne Laurel!”

Danny exhales a deep breath, relief flooding him. Josie was ok, she would be ok. Danny may not have been lucky, but she was safe. This year, at least. As happy as he was that Josie’s name hadn’t been called, his heart breaks as he sees Daphne make her way through the crowd, joining him on stage. She was just a little kid, maybe 12 or 13; and she was terrified, visibly on the verge of tears.

Prompted by the escort, Danny shakes her hand, vowing in that moment that he was going to do whatever he could to keep her safe in the arena, to keep her alive as long as possible.

“Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds ever be in your favor!”

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[basiccortez]

in collaboration with @capturethechaos

Only The Good Die Young word count: 1.1k masterlist playlist

warnings: THIS IS AN AU. mentions of death, mentions of torture, mentions of mafias/mobs/gangs. STRICTLY 18+. MINORS DNI

'I'd rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints, the sinners are much more fun'

Some people believed that the whole mafia, gangs and mobsters died back in the 1940s, but the truth was, those monsters just went into hiding. Everything is run by the mob. The girls on the corner, the guns the cops used, the drugs in the prisons, the boxing matches on pay-per-view, sometimes, even the clothes on your back.

Most of the famous mobs had died out when Al Capone finally bit it, so did the crash of the New York Five. But between the mobsters tearing each other apart, between the shadows, two other families were building up their ranks.

The shift between the downfall of the Luciano family and the rise of the Kiszkas was easy. Nobody ever pointed a finger at a Polish man selling guns on the street corner. Kiszka didn’t sound like “Mangano” or “Gagliano” or “Bonanno”. Patrick Kiszka was a smart man, and decided to move the vast mafia playground to a quieter city that would draw less heat. He switched from bright, light, bigger city Broadway, to the Country Broadway strip.

The Kiszkas were one to be feared. Their mafia bloodline was passed down from generation to generation. The current leaders were 3 beautiful brothers and their best friend, who was basically another brother. You didn’t mess with any of them, unless you had a death wish.

Samuel, the youngest, was smart, his brain like a human computer. He was able to infiltrate government sanctions with ease. You didn’t know you were hacked until it was too late and your porn search history was blasted all over your workplace. Sam had ghosts, things that haunted him when he closed his eyes at night. He was too smart, too gentle for his own good, which caused his heart to break and his mind to be scarred.

Daniel was the muscle, and Sam’s best friend. He was slender and tall, with beautiful curly hair. He was a dark, gentle soul, who hid in the shadows. He was like a snake, letting you get close until he struck, quick and quiet. His closet was full of skeletons he was yet to bury. Sam was one of the only people in the family to know about the horrible things Daniel had done. Wherever you saw Sam, you saw Daniel, and vice versa.

Then, there were the twins. Two beautiful fuckers that could not be more different. Josh was smart (not quite as smart as Sam), and handled the money of the family. The Kiszkas were dripping with money, and probably would’ve gone broke if it wasn’t for Josh. Josh had been a part of putting the Kiszkas into a legal business, buying casinos on the Vegas Strip.

And last but not least, their fearless leader, Jacob. That fucker dripped confidence and power. He could have women pulling their panties aside with just a simple look. Even though Josh was the oldest, it just made sense that Jake was the family leader. Jake was a cocky fucker, having a painting of him in a blood red suit hanging over his desk like he was the real fucking Don Vito Corleone.

There was one crime family though, that refused to die without a fight. The Santiagos had fled New York when the FBI started rounding up all the mobsters. Don Michele Santiago was a smart bastard, and was the one who gave the heads up to the power 5 of what was to go down. Everyone thought he was just some crazy Italian and didn’t listen. They wished they’d listened when they were on the line in front of the firing squad. Michele took his wife and his sons and moved them from New York back to their small quiet town in Sicily. Michele raised his eldest son, Rafael to take over the family business when the time would come. Rafael was only 10 when they moved, but as soon as he hit 18, he was sent back over to the US to be a spy for the family. Michele Santiago and Patrick Kiszka were friends, but Michele didn’t trust the whole innocent Polish man act.

When Michele finally bit it, and Rafael took over, his wife produced him three sons and a daughter. Rafael raised his sons to be ruthless blood thirsty killers.

Paulo was the eldest, and was the golden prize in Rafael’s eyes. There was not a single thing he could do wrong. Paulo kissed his father’s ass if that meant being the heir to the whole Santiago fortune when the old bastard would finally make it to the grave.

Gianni was the middle son, and a told fucking wild card. His nickname was “X-ray”, the kid was always searching and scanning like a fucking detector. Gianni loved torture. It was his favorite past-time. Gianni was the protector of the family, putting his life on the line to protect his own blood. He had proved that he wasn’t afraid of the consequences, and wore the scars he had on his body with pride.

Narciso, just like his name would insinuate, was a self-righteous asshole. His appearance was everything, and he demanded only the best be put on his body. His wardrobe consisted of Gucci and Versace, ironically. He was smart, understanding the way business and stocks worked better than anyone in the family. He was more of a businessman than Paulo, but no no one would ever admit it. Narciso got the short end of the stick, not inheriting anything much like his brother Gianni.

Rafael never wanted a daughter, and it was clear to anyone who saw it. Y/N Santiago was a hidden gem. She was smart, drabbled in the art of torture, and dressed to impress. Rafael had a plan for her the second the doctor said it was a girl. Her life had already been decided on and she didn’t even know it. Her mother, the woman who was also a business player, knew of her daughter's fate. Marie Santiago had been the same way, being betrothed to a man she never would’ve married if it wasn’t for the family business she had learned to love.

When Y/N was a growing child, she was sent off to prep school, in hopes to teach her how to be a proper woman. Rafael wanted her far away from this life, in his mind, the less a woman knew, the better.

But his plans of keeping her away came crashing down when she had met Fransico Solano. What was supposed to be an innocent relationship turned dark and bloody, and ended up with a battered and tortured Y/N on his father’s front door. Rafael could see the end of his legacy crashing down, and knew what he had to do to help his legacy succeed and grow. Even if that meant sending his daughter across the ocean.

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note: I hope y'all love the teaser! updates will be posted on Tuesdays. This series is also fully completed and ready for you guys to read:) thank you to my lovely co-authors I couldn't have done it without you.

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[writingcold]

Chapter Four - We learn more about our world.

Content Warnings:  I need to put this here - this is a work of fiction. There will be imagery of violence, character deaths, inequities, poverty, heavy angst, and adult sexual situations throughout the story. Please read at your own discretion. All characters are fictional, though some of the big events that are shown are historical, but may not be historically accurate. 

Thank you to @edgingthedarkness for all of her help as my all mighty beta for this fiction. She listened to me drone on and on about it for months on end. She really took a bullet for this one! She created the banner for this story as well! Also thank you to @katuschka for her amazing skills in bringing our hero Jakub to life. Divider art by @ firefly-graphics.

The Dead

Jake X Fem!Reader

Chapter Four word count: approximately 4400 words

Warnings in this part: We find out what happened to Maéva. Grief, deep sorrow, anger. Mentions and images of violence and abuse against our main female character. Mentions of sexual assault and implied assault.

Chapter 4.1: Wandering in the Graveyard

     I woke up feeling like all of my being had been ripped out of my chest and shoved carelessly back in, in the wrong places. I felt tears on my face and a knot in my throat that I could not explain. The dreams were ultra vivid. Lifelike. I wondered if I looked at my face, if I wouldn’t see where I was cut and bruised from the attack in my slumber. I slowly rose and stepped into the shower. My thoughts were sluggish and faded. It was like being overwhelmed and drunk and overstimulated at the same time. I wanted to find the closest wall and turn my knuckles into mush over it.

     I looked at what I wrote the previous night and my eyes landed on a single handwritten sentence:  They are the same man. Heart rate through the roof, my brain sharpened in the moment. They are the same man. Yakov and Jacob. One in the same. It led my imagination to wonder if perhaps this Yakov was stuck, living life after life. But was that life within the cemetery…?

     In light of the day being Sunday, there was no library for me to go to work. I bumbled through cleaning up and tried to reach the cafe before the church crowd descended on it. I beat out the crowd by five minutes, much to my delight. I scored a booth and settled into breakfast while looking over the different articles that I had snapped pictures of. Owen called from Barcelona. He was officially on concert duty for the next few months with a band he had been contracted with for the past five years. I could hear the excitement in his voice over seeing old friends and meeting new ones while they moved through fairs and headlining shows alike. 

      I debated driving down to see Gran but a whisper from my laptop lured me to stay. I sat with her over a cup of tea and a video call to catch up for the week. It was good to just be able to see her smile and hear her laugh as she talked about this knitting club or that food pantry that she helped with for the kids in the school. She asked me how it was going and I hedged a bit. She was well enough with my answer until just before we said goodbye.

     “Y/n,”  she said, her tone firm. “I know you have to do this. I know you are obligated to write. But please, promise me that these migraines aren’t getting worse.”

     “It’s fine, Gran. Promise. Miracle of modern medicine doping me up on all kinds of meds to take care of it,”  I snarked from the sink of the kitchenette. 

     “I don’t like it,”  she said, her voice soft.

     “I promise, I’m taking care of myself,”  I replied, making sure she could see my smile.

     “When do you see that neurologist?”  she asked.

     “April, Gran.”

     I listened as she vented frustration. My answer was that there were many more people with more serious conditions that needed to be seen before me. I know she was concerned. All I could do was continue to promise that I was resting and not overdoing it. I did not confide that I already had a few bad ones while in residence in Frankenmuth, and that was all right. I didn’t need her trying to get up here when her whole social circle would collapse without her being the ring leader.

      With the call done to Gran, I found myself tired and eyeing the bed. I promised myself that I would close my eyes for a bit. It would probably go a long way to stave off the distant throb at the back of my brain.

⭒☾   I was nearly running down the path that would lead to the beach below the bluff. I had somehow evaded Leila, and marched out to read amongst the blades of tall grass and sunshine. It had been weeks since the incident in the market, meaning that it had been weeks of contemplating the very kind Jakub. Imagine my surprise to see him walking on the slip of the beach below. At first, he seemed to turn away before I called out. The wind was whipping my skirts all over the place as I hurried towards him. He looked a bit taken aback that I would charge at him so, but I imagined his warm eyes filled with a smile that made my heart flutter.

     “You shouldn’t run like that,”  he said with a laugh on the fringes of his voice. “I don’t think I’m fast enough to catch you if you were to fall.”

     I felt color rise in my cheeks. “I’ve been running that path since I could walk.”

    To have him close was putting a happiness in my thoughts that I did not expect. I had heard and seen this what I had taken for idiocy at gatherings, recitals, and the grand balls, but had never expected to feel the heat of my skin and the lightened state of my heart. 

      “You have been away?”  I asked as the silence stretched.

      His body shifted. “Been to Fort Frontenac and back.”

      “You are a sailor?”  I felt my words were not coming out the way I wanted. I must’ve sounded naive.

      He shifted again, as if he, himself, was nervous. “I’m a deckhand, yes.”

     “Terribly hard work,”  I replied, not really knowing what I was talking about, except from listening to my father. “Dangerous.”

     “Are you well?”  

     His question caught me off guard. I thought we were talking about what he did for life. I caught my breath as I tried to look into his face, only to find that it was fuzzed and distorted. My gaze dropped to his chest, the way his waist drifted to an angle in comparison to his shoulders. 

     “I’m…”  I stopped, catching how his body was fully turned towards my own. “Pardon?”  

     “I’m asking if you are well,”  he said, his voice warbling over a rasp that caught in his throat. “I thought about you every day I was gone. I worried for you, Maéva”

      The way he said my name made everything inside of me flutter. “Yes. I am well.”

     The silence that stretched was by no means tense. Nor was it awkward. My hands met before me, holding my book in place like it would keep me grounded in his presence. He shifted again, as if nervous once more. I caught a soft flash of color against his palm, but it was gone - hidden. Somehow, I missed how we moved - how we walked down the narrow band of beach to take shelter closer to the treeline. I was perched on a log with him right next to me. I tried to look into his face only to be overwhelmed with a heaviness that bent my gaze away. I was reading. I was reading a story out loud…  Cervantes’ “The Dialogue of Dogs” and he was palming and rolling that flash of color between his hands as if he were intently listening. It had not been the only time I had read the story, but certainly was the first time to share it with someone.

     He remained quiet long after I closed the book and returned it to my lap. I saw the flash of color once more and realized it was a shell, not quite the same size as my own palm. I reached out and turned his hand to open it. It was a scallop shell, richly colored in shades of amber on the outside while the inside was kissed with blushes and golds.

     “I found it on the beach while I was at the fort,”  he said, as I traced the shell with the tip of my finger. 

     “It’s lovely, Jakub,”  I replied, liking how the colors blended.

     He turned my hand into his own to place the shell against my palm. “It reminded me of the ribbon in your hair that day. I’d like you to have it.”

     He held my hand cupped in his own, brushing his hardened fingers across my skin. My smile was effortless as heat spread up through my arms. I was swept away in emotions that I could only laugh out. I had never felt this kind of happy before. As I parted from him, I was elated and filled with sorrow at the same time. The kindness of Jakub was something that needed to be treasured. My world had just been changed for the better and I hoped beyond all my hopes that it would stay that way. ⭒☾

Chapter 4.2: Wandering in the Graveyard, Jacob

     I was surprised as a sound twiddled in the air, dancing amongst the colors of the wind. I knew the notes. I felt it radiating out of my spirit and hummed it as I tried to find the source of the familiar song. The bench. The modeled concrete slab for the living to sit upon seemed to be its nest, but there was nothing residing…  Something was there. Something beyond my knowledge was the origin of my song. I inched closer. The invisible being hummed in time with the notes.

     Yakov. This sound - this human voice was heavily muffled, but I could hear it. How strange. My gaze bent to the seat of the bench as one of those phone devices became clear - and it was obvious where my sound was coming from. I pushed myself through the concrete and bent down before it. My fingers hovering over the glass. My notes were shades of navy and gold and silver and deep greens that lifted up into the air to dance and climb up through the branches of the trees and take their places in the universe. 

     Jake. It was that human sound again. It felt filtered through yards of folded up wool, but it was another name I knew. It was the name I wore when I wrote these notes…  I found myself retreating. I needed to get away from whatever it was on the bench. I felt it shift and move, but there was no form that disturbed the air. It was by no means a threat. At least that was what I was telling myself as I remained behind my headstone until well after the sound was gone.

      Two names had been spoken into life that were my own. Yakov and Jake - well that second one was the final name that graced my stone. Names that I had not thought of in some time. Was whatever it was that resided in my space, unseen and unknown, the one who called to me?  My gaze trailed over the night sky, catching the brilliance of her star on the horizon. The joy of my singular memory bubbled within as the creature walked the length of the fence, turning to come within my boundaries. I waited for her, laying down beside her as her breath ceased along with her movement. I felt a stirring within. A need. A need and a hesitation blended together because I was unsure if I wanted to know if this creature’s origin. I waited until the known gasp of breath came and life stirred within her once more to whisper the name that had been upon my lips all those centuries ago.

      “Maéva,”  I whispered.

     I searched her face for a reaction.

     I waited for music from the heavens or some light from within her to shimmer.

     I longed for her ancient eyes to latch onto mine and bleed into me knowledge of what she was, who she was, and why this process of fragility repeated without reason. 

     But there was nothing.

     I am unsure of what I actually wanted from this creature. Perhaps for the woman to know me upon the utterance of a name. Or maybe for her knowledge of the universe to be shared. There was nothing as she sputtered and groaned, making her way to her feet once more while I lay there, defeated. I remained in my position, refusing to follow her through the blossoming of her youth once more until she abandoned the space all together. I was dead, wasn’t I?  I wasn’t supposed to feel anything. Yet…

     The world ended with the casting of her final breath. I sat cross legged on her grave, one hand in the dirt, the other on her name as if I could summon her from the depths of her coffin. Never had I felt so small in the world as in that moment, knowing she had been removed from it. Naked rage bubbled beneath my skin. I had no true direction to unleash my venom. Even with the knowledge that her father had sent an entire ship to its doom to block me from his daughter, I lacked the absolute proof to demonstrate the villains’ deeds. Surely, he would not place his business in the maw of ruin for saving face with a family such as the Allaires.

     A snapped twig brought  my eyes upon Maéva’s matron - Leila. The utter defeat in her meager features mirrored my own. I made no move to contain my grief. Why should I?  I knew this woman had betrayed her mistress, and yet, as she stood before me, I was aware that she was destroyed over the loss the same as I. We sat together as if the air would heal the battered riff between two mouths that needed to share information.

     I wiped at my face, finding solace in the nearness of another human who had been close to Maéva. Someone who knew of her delicate goodness that she had put into this world. I took note of how the woman wrung her hands and kept her eyes cast away from not just me, but of Maéva’s memorial as well. Her posture troubled me. I knew to prepare for words that would be a struggle for any listener. I discovered I was short on patience suddenly, calling forth her murky dark eyes to focus upon me.

     “You were privy to the end,”  I whispered in an attempt to shelter her - or perhaps myself - from the heat of my anger. “It’s what brings you round to me, is it not?”

     Her sallow skin grew all the more gray as our gazes touched. “He snuffed her out with intent, sir.”

     It was as if her words tore away what I had left in my chest. The sob that escaped did little to provide relief. My fingers dug into the dirt beneath me.

     “She fell ill so soon after the wedding,”  Leila confessed, her voice crackling with sorrow. “I caught him sneaking drops into her soup with what he called medicine after she took to her bed. He said that he had gotten it from the apothecary - that she would be right soon.”

      “How are you sure he wasn’t applying medicine?”  I asked, knowing it was foolish hope that perhaps she was mistaken.

     “Maéva was never sickly. This you know. But he put drops into anything he would give her. Made me disperse them as well - in her water, in her food. She worsened with each intake. I am convinced it was poison that robbed her of life.”

     I wanted to shout my fury into the day. Instead, I swallowed my tears and gripped the ground tighter as if in an attempt to hold onto her. “But why kill her?  Why-?”

     “Matthias is not as he presents to the public,”  she said, her tone holding more strength than I was prepared for. “He is filth. He tortured her with words and blows and Maéva was a weight upon his need for his vices.”

      A heat touched me that only stoked the rage within.

      “Men like him, Jakub, do not like to turn away from their carnality in the name of goodness and virtue,”  she sighed. “He has never been anything but cruel in this life.”

      Her eyes turned from mine and her body shifted as if she felt she needed to hide. “What are you not telling me?”

      “Maéva… she…”  Her mouth grew thin as if she was struggling to pry the words from inside of her. “She wanted to remain faithful to you, sir.”

      My stomach dropped as nausea struck. “She fought him?”

     “With every stitch of strength that she held,” she said across a sob.

     My eyes closed as my brain fought for clarity. I felt fresh tears escape to flow down my reddened cheeks. I did not apologize for the harsh curse that passed my lips.

     “They screamed at each other that first night,”  she struggled, unable to keep her words from trembling. “He forced her. He forced himself upon her for her family’s money. He kept saying that he was whoring himself to her for her father’s purse. He…  He… said that her father paid for him to give her his cock. Treated her worse than the scullery maid.”

    My jaw went slack. I passed my fingertips across her name, tracing each stroke of letter as if it were her skin. Just when I thought perhaps the situation could not worsen, I realized Leila was not done. Her horrified expression caught me by surprise.

      “There was nothing I could do. He was screaming that he cursed her. The whole house heard it. He screamed over having to touch her filthy skin where you had touched - that she was tainted by the flesh of a -”

      I let out a sound that stopped her. To know that Maéva had been punished for our innocence shattered the remaining barrier of my senses. All I could see was fury tinged colors. 

     “He said that if you truly were soulmates, that you would live across the number of lifetimes the same as the letters of your names - and you would live apart for all that time, not knowing of the other. He said that would be long enough for your tarnished souls to forget who they belong to.”

     My body felt heavy. I swayed before my head tilted forward to come to rest upon the marble of her headstone. I felt a shift into hopelessness. “He despised her.”

     “Aye,”  Leila replied, her face away from my gaze. “And all the good she stood for. She lost the babe a few days after she fell ill, much to his delight.”

     All thoughts froze. “Babe?”

      Her gaze softened as she looked upon me. “Aye, sir. Your babe. That life in her belly was her one comfort through all of his torture. And when he robbed her of it, he took the rest of her.”

     My mind altered across that moment. Darkness slithered across my brain and irreversibly changed my mindset of the evil that had been allowed to touch her. I could never revert back to the man I had been when I was with her. I became cruel in my resolve. I wiped at my face to clean away the grief. “Why did you aid him in betraying us?”  I asked, my voice void of heat.     She bowed her chin even though she seemed to straighten up her spine. “I was not given a choice, Jakub. You know a woman of my standing is nothing in this world. Matthias said that I would preserve my life by giving into what he wanted of me - under my skirts and words on my lips. His price for straying too far from the fold one night.”

     My skin crawled as the matron explained that she had walked into Maéva’s personal rooms to find Matthias in a compromising position with one of the other maids - the poor girl, being raped and the master acting like her body was his right. Both women, under threat, were turned from their mistress and forced upon the man’s whims to protect each other from the male dominated courts where laws did not favor the fairer sex, despite their only crime being that of ignorance of law. My fate was sealed with the press of my fingers into the dirt. I would force my hand until revenge would be mine. 

     I traced the delicate tail of the ‘a’ at the end of her name. It reminded me of the curve of her low back and the warm rush of breath that would strike my skin when I passed my battered hands over that treasured spot of her body. I pressed my mouth to the stone with a whisper of love…

      I sat cross-legged on my grave, but not facing my stone. My eyes were squeezed shut in an attempt to see her face, see her spirit as the memory of her body danced away like the thin fog at the treetops. So tragic was life. Was there no happiness, no passion that was sacred; that was unmarred by time?  I leaned back, eyes casting up to the blackness of the sky, finding connection of her there. This faceless beauty that had been love for me, was cast away. This fragile spirit that must have been the reason so much of me was lost, never to be discovered except through the heat of vengeance.

Chapter 4.3: Wandering in the Graveyard

     Opening my eyes, I could feel the remnants of a migraine glued to my face. I must’ve had one in my sleep. My stomach was too woozy to eat, so I cleaned up and made a cup of chamomile to sip upon. My eyes were too tender to look at anything so I sat in the quiet, eyes closed, cup of hot between my fingers and allowed myself to just drift amongst story ideas that held no characters in its residence. That’s not true. There was one, standing at the fringes but was still a hollowed out shadow that was getting tangled up in the events of the real.

      I pictured Jacob. The color picture that had brought to him a dark aura and sultry stance that would have left those around him flattened by his sex appeal. My brain pulled forth a likeness of what could be; unstructured but holding a whisper of what could flesh out into a dynamic character. What would it take to survive in a splintered existence?  What would it take to cause such an existence in the first place?

     My eyelids were puffy as I tried to look at my laptop. Nope. Paper and pencil it was going to be. I started to make a list of elements that I could feel within the structure of my story. 

     Love.

     It was the first and only word that came into my cobwebbed mind. I stared at the unlined ivory sheet. It was not what I expected to write. It was certainly not what I expected from this story. 

     Love.

     My body bent away from the word that stared up at me from the page. Ew. No. Love had no bearings on any of my stories. The sentiment may be present, but the center?  No. It could be a catalyst for the fractures. Sure. But the main plot of the story itself?  

     My all too vivid dreams were obviously poking me in a not so nice way. The sound of those ship bells and Superior lingered on the horizon of my thoughts. Yakov had a painting of the harbor up north. Perhaps it was a piece that my brain decided to romanticize and torture me with…  Wait. I could use that. Certainly there was activity up on the Great Lakes before settling in the southern regions of the upper Midwest. I scratched a few notes. I could use that area as a point of entry to the story. 

     It was a slow return to normal, but the moment I could, I delved into harbors on Lake Superior that were well established by the 1850s. There were a startling amount that were very well established before the Revolutionary War, much to my delight. In the midst of looking at maps from the Library of Congress, I wrote another word to my one word list:

     Pirate.

     The one note of laughter that hacked out of my throat was followed by the hard scrape of my pen scratching it out along with its predecessor - Love. My eyes rolled at the notion. What the hell. I did not right fucking romance. I sure as shit did not write about pirates. I fucking drew the line at romancing the pirate. 

     Love     Pirate     For shits and giggles I searched up piracy on the Great Lakes, positive that that was certainly not a thing…

    “Goddamn,”  I whispered as I had to get to my feet over the information that blazed from my screen.

     Love     Pirate

     No. Do not do it.

     It was time to walk away from it. My eyes caught on a name - Calico Jack. What?  Apparently, John Rackham made his start in the Great Lakes before his run in the Caribbean. It was right there on the damn state website no less - not like some fan site. Jesus.

     Love     Pirate

     No. Do not do it.

     Do Not Fucking Do It.

     I laughed at myself. How could I not. The idiocy was so plain. I made a list of things to do before my meeting with Uther Morgan the next day - namely to focus solely on Jacob Thomas and figure out questions that I could ask the man that would not tip my hand that I’m chasing his damn ghost like a crazed weirdo. Instead, I tucked in for the night after a call to Gran and a text to Owen as proof of life.

⭒☾    A feather was being dragged across my palm and I smiled up into Jakub’s face, though I could not see his features.

      “It reminded me how soft your skin is,”  he said, following the path of the feather with the pad of his finger.

      The warmth of his hand taking mine filled me with a strength and delight that lightened my form to the point of bursting…⭒☾ 

It’s not an easy part of the story to read. It was not an easy chapter to write, but we now know just how rotten Matthias is, and the force that caused this curse. See you next Thursday! 💚

Tags are in the comments as it seems to work best that way! If you want to be added, let me know.

@edgingthedarkness @its-interesting-van-kleep  @lvnterninthenight  @katuschka @thewritingbeforesunrise @ignite-my-fire @takenbythemadness @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @fleet-of-fiction @demonrat444 @klarxtr @peaceloveunitygvf @hollyco @lipstickitty @joshym @itsafullmoon @josh-iamyour-mama @jake-whatthefisgoingon-kiszka @way-to-go-lad @jjwasneverhere @gretavangroupie @emojakekiszka @wetkleenex-gvf @vanfleeter @losfacedevil @myownparadise96 @lizzys-sunflower @literal-dead-leaf @musicislove3389 @raceb14

[kxnsy]

Night Moves - Jake Kiszka

Summary// a storyline based off of the song Night Moves by Bob Seger. Jake and you have found yourselves in quite the predicament, and you both decide to make the most of it.

Warnings// underage drinking, light smut, mentions of sex

Word Count// 2.8k+

Author's Note// Hi everyone! This is my first fic posted to tumblr, but I have written fics before. Be wary, I am not the most confident in this first part, but I do plan on continuing this into more parts! This is based off of one of my favorite songs, Night Moves by Bob Seger. It is such a fun song & I highly recommend you listen to it to fully grasp the idea of this fic!

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy! :)

-Kensy♡

The night was warm and the air was thick. A light layer of sweat was already lining your skin, and as the light from both the fire and the moon hit your features, you seemed to glow in the night. One hand was occupied by a flimsy plastic cup, and the other sat comfortably in the back pocket of your jeans. It was the textbook definition of a teenage summer night. You stood around a fire, surrounded by a small group of people from your school that you’d grown close to over the years of attendance. This had become a ritual for you, going to a party as often as you could this summer. After all, it was your final summer before starting college. You figured you had better sneak in as much time with your friends from your hometown before possibly never seeing them again.

You smiled to yourself as someone continued to tell a light-hearted story on the other side of the fire. Between the crackling of the burning wood, the ambient music drifting into the air from inside the house, and the warmth of the fire, you felt oddly at peace. Or maybe you were just buzzed? Having been at the party for nearly an hour already, you had had your fair share of alcohol. Nevertheless, you felt good, and you could only hope that you’d continue to feel this good for the continuation of the night.

As you took a deep breath in, you brought the cup up to your lips, letting the sweet mixed drink sit on your tongue for just a second before the burn of the alcohol truly kicked in, forcing you to make somewhat of a face as it traveled down your throat. As you looked around the fire, you noticed a figure walking from the house to the circular fire pit. You squinted a bit, the heat waves distorting the appearance of this approaching person.

“Seems like the fire needs a boost!”

As if the distinct tone of voice wasn’t obvious enough, the interest in all-things-fire was a dead giveaway; Josh held up a canister of gasoline, shaking it slightly as he smiled ear to ear.

“Jesus Josh, put that shit away. We’re gonna get the cops called again because of your pyromaniac tendencies,” a softer voice spoke from beside you.

Turning your head at the sound of this voice, you notice Jake, Josh’s twin brother, standing beside you suddenly, both hands placed in his pockets. You let out a quiet laugh as everyone else continued jesting Josh. Jake turned his upper body slightly to face you, eyes glowing bright in the light of the fire. You took in his appearance, taking note of the two buttons that were left unpopped at the top of his shirt.

“Were you here for the last stunt Josh pulled?” He questioned, nodding his head as he spoke. “Almost set the house on fire, our mom was pissed.”

“Oh of course, I just played it safe and practically ran to the house when Josh approached the fire with gas containers.” You smiled softly, leaning a little too far forward due to the head rush you were getting from your alcoholic beverage.

Jake seemed to notice as well, not only laughing at your comment but also your obvious intoxication, his eyebrows raising softly as he reached a hand out to your shoulder to steady you.

You reached out to his side, in need of something to grab onto as you balanced your other side out with your somewhat-empty plastic cup. As you regained your balance, Jake’s hand on your shoulder slid down to your shoulder blade resting there for just a second before pulling back.

“You okay over there or do I need to take away your drink?” He joked, you rolling your eyes playfully and pulling your hand back from his side.

“I’m fine, just feeling a little unsteady with Josh over there,” you nodded in Josh’s direction as he began unscrewing the cap of the gasoline canister he held, “he seems about ready to unleash the beast.”

Jake looked to Josh, yelling a few more warnings of how bad of an idea this might be, but eventually shrugged and just shook his head as Josh held the canister above his head, yelling out in excitement. Jake looked at you, a half-smile that gave you a glimpse of his stunning smile resting on his face.

“I think we should head back to the house if we want to keep our eyebrows,” he suggested, raising his eyebrows slightly as he spoke. You leaned towards him, letting a laugh hum through the air as he reached a hand out to guide you.

“I will most definitely take you up on that offer.”

Following behind Jake’s steady pace, you smirked to yourself. The smell of Jake’s cologne drifting through the air behind him combined with the musk of his envious hair sent your mind into an even further state of intoxication. His hand was soft at the palms, but rough at the fingers, and it reminded you that Jake was a skilled musician. You squeezed his hand just a bit tighter before he looked over his shoulder to you, a somewhat-smile, once again, displayed.

Before he could turn his attention back to the path in front of him, an orange glow reflected off of his tanned skin, his eyes widening and his mouth dropping open ever so slightly. You flicked your head around too, suddenly hearing the roaring blaze of the flames as they grew in size behind you. You felt the warmth hit you within seconds, followed by the entertained cheers from both Josh and a few of his other friends around the fire.

You heard Jake snicker behind you and as you turned to face him once again, he shook his head before audibly thinking, “He really is an idiot.”

Nevertheless, Jake trudged on towards the house with you, even though the sole purpose for going to the house was to avoid the inevitable bonfire that had already been created. Josh led you to the door in the garage, holding the door open for you as you stepped inside.

You squinted in the darkness of the garage, using the light from the moon through the windows to take in your surroundings. You saw a drum set, two microphone stands, two amps, and many, many wires. As you took a step forward, Jake stepped past you, his hand sliding from your tricep back down to your hand before keeping it firmly placed in his.

“I’ll have to get you in here when we practice, sometime. I think you’d really love it,” he spoke with a tone of confidence, which was a somewhat foreign tone coming from Jake.

“Why do you say that?” You questioned, head tilting to the side as he slowly guided you past the performing gear.

“I have yet to meet a girl who doesn’t love our music, especially hearing it live,” he wiggled his eyebrows slyly as he displayed his big, beautiful smile to you. You hated how his cockiness was giving you…butterflies? No, that’s definitely got to be some reaction from the alcohol.

Scoffing as you rolled your eyes, you muttered something under your breath as he continued to guide you through the dark garage. Finally, you stepped into the hallway of the Kiszka home as Jake held this door open for you as well.

He stopped in the kitchen to grab another beer from a cooler, looking at you and raising his hand with the beer in it to silently question if you wanted one too.

“No, I think if I have any more I might get tempted into making bad decisions.” You chuckled at your own statement, remembering the last party that the Kiszka brother’s hosted; you had somehow found yourself completing a dare of running around the exterior of the house in just your undergarments. You shook your head in embarrassment, eyes widening at just the thought of all the eyes on you that night.

“I think I like when you make bad decisions, at least around me,” he stated matter-of-factly as he stood up from the cooler. He took a step closer to you, cracking the beer open with ease. You watched him as he brought the can to his lips that curled into a smirk. His eyes stayed on you, tracing your frame as you burned up inside at his words.

You shifted the weight of your stance as you felt the need to adjust yourself under his hard gaze. You could feel your cheeks burn bright as well as your neck flush. His eyes, never once wavering from you, began to overpower your own gaze, and you shifted your gaze to his throat. His Adam's apple bobbed slightly as he swallowed the hoppy liquid down. You felt your tongue poke out from your mouth, nearly drooling at the sight before you.

What the fuck was going on? Here was Jake Kiszka, standing before you and simply drinking a beer. Why were you getting so hot and bothered? Furthermore, why did you like it?

He lowered the beer from his lips, swallowing the last sip in his mouth before letting a chuckle rumble through the air. He took the plastic cup from your hands, throwing it away before taking your hand in his again. You let him guide you to wherever he wished, eventually coming to the bottom of the stairs.

He looked back to you, looking to your eyes and nodding his head slightly in the direction of up the stairs. You took your lip between your teeth as you pondered the possibilities of going upstairs with Jake Kiszka.

No, it’s not like you two were the best of friends, but you two definitely got along just fine. He was funny and kind, and you enjoyed his presence. Although it hadn’t been until this past year as senior year came to an end that you found your mind wandering with thoughts of him. Hearing the music that his brother’s and Danny created was so intriguing to you, and something about the way he played guitar drew you in. His nimble fingers, sliding up and down the fret as he leaned back, eyes shut and teeth clamped on a guitar pick; it was all so hot.

Wait what?

Without another second of hesitation, you nodded your head and let a smirk spread across your face. He returned the smile, squeezing your hand before turning towards the steps and guiding you up them.

Soon enough, you were on Jake’s bed, laying between him and the duvet. With one hand planted at your side, his thumb stroking the skin peeking just above your hip bone, and the other hand pressed against the mattress to keep himself hovered above you, he was taking his time to appreciate you. You had wrapped your arms loosely around his neck, occasionally digging your nails into his firm back as his tongue swirled around yours.

Little did Jake know that this was all foreign territory for you. Sure, you had made out with guys before and been felt up, but it was almost always due to a spur-of-the-drunkened-moment dare at parties akin to this one. You knew the basics of all of this stuff, like practicing safe sex, how important it was to pee after sex, and other tidbits of information, but that was simply from friends spilling their experiences and hearing of other experiences. Now here you were, almost living it out. To say you were nervous was an understatement.

To Jake, you just seemed tense and he assumed it was probably because of how quickly things moved tonight, but he decided against assuming anything. He pulled back from the heated kiss, moving a hair away from your eyes as he took deep breaths.

“You okay? You seem tense,” he spoke softly, continuing to run a gentle hand through your hair. You nodded silently, but Jake noticed your hesitancy and cocked his head, sitting up even further.

“No we’re not doing anything until you let me know if you truly want to do this.” He leaned back against his pillows, wrapping an arm around your shoulders loosely as he looked between your eyes for an indication of how you felt.

You took a deep breath, picking at the cloth of his comforter as you realized you would have to fess up to your inexperience, embarrassing as it may seem.

“Well, I’ve never done this before.” It was almost so quiet that Jake didn’t even hear it. He leaned in closer as you finished off your statement, trying to hear it just a bit more. As he processed your words, he let out a soft sigh before speaking.

“You’re a virgin then?” He spoke quietly and tenderly, not wanting you to feel embarrassed of the situation.

You looked to him, nodding before looking back to the bed. He rubbed your back gingerly as he spoke to you.

“Well it’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” You didn’t want to register his words, because he couldn’t understand the embarrassment you were feeling right now. That is, until he continued talking.

“Actually, I um, I am too.”

You looked up to him in shock, eyes wide and eyebrows furrowed. He gave you a tight-lipped smile before nodding.

“Yup, never had sex, I know, it’s suprising.” His attempt at lightening the mood worked as he jokingly rolled his eyes, hands gesturing to his physique before looking at you and joining in on your laughter.

It fell silent between the two of you, and he laid his head on your shoulder before taking a deep breath.

You would’ve never guessed he was just as clueless as you were in this department. Sure, he wasn’t exactly the type to go through a girl a week, but you had assumed he was a magnet to all kinds of girls. You knew that plenty of girls had gathered in the garage you passed through just earlier, each of them wanting their share of the boys. Between this and Jake’s general inclination to attract almost anyone he meets, you figured he was well-educated in sexual experience.

Jake broke your silent thoughts as he cleared his throat before speaking.

“Sooo, how should we go about this?”

You looked down to him, seeing him look up to you through his eyelashes. His eyes sparkled a deep golden brown in the mix of the moonlight and the flames flickering from outside of the window.

“I’m not entirely sure, Jake. I don’t exactly know how to handle this.” You answered honestly, half expecting Jake to lose all interest in what was previously in action.

He picked up his head from your shoulder, eyes lighting up and mouth opening slightly as he was obviously in thought.

“I have an idea,” he spoke out into the night, that gorgeous smile returning. You egged him on, nodding in curiosity.

“Maybe we could both benefit from our inexperience, you know?”

He smiled even more, shifting to look at you completely.

Your face contorted in confusion. What the hell was he talking about? You two have no idea what you’re doing.

“I’m lost,” you said bluntly, shrugging your shoulders with the comment.

He sat directly in front of you now, both legs surrounding your frame as you sat Indian style in front of him. He grabbed your hands, resting them in his own.

“We could be each other’s practice. We could both work together to learn.” He shook your hands in his lap as he spoke for emphasis.

As the confusion subsided from your face, Jake nodded even more, watching the gears in your mind turn to understand his concept.

“So, you mean friends with benefits?”

“Yes! Well, kind of. We don’t have to make rules like that though, we just learn from each other’s bodies and what feels right, what doesn’t, and how it all works.”

You sat there for a minute, going over all of the possible scenarios in your mind. This was kind of a big commitment if you thought about it; not only were you going to have to consider the risks of something like this, but you would also have to consider how this might impact the relationship you currently had with Jake. You didn’t want to lose his companionship, no matter how odd it was, but you certainly did want to see what all he was hiding beneath his tight jeans and loose shirts.

With a deep breath passing your lips, you swallowed to relieve the sudden dryness in your throat. Jake looked to you in a hopeful gaze, although he expected you to absolutely turn this idea down.

Before you could toss over the thought any longer, your lips and voice worked in conjunction to answer for you.

“Okay fine, but at least take me out to dinner first.”

And with that, Jake pressed a wet kiss to your lips, holding your chin between his fingers and resting his other hand on the side of your neck.

He pulled back breathlessly, smiling from ear to ear before saying,

“You won’t regret it, I swear, baby!”