#hes a little green sorry guys. He's very ill

[maggotmessiah0]

HES SUCH A FREAK

The lyrics are from unsociable by msi

[taelophone]

Strings° . ° .

Guitar Player Joost Klein x Reader TWs: Penetration, Oral (r receiving), Joost is kinda a bully, overstimulation, sliiiiight hand kink it’s barely there, RPF!! W/C: 2684 A/N: First time writing smut, idk if I liked doing it😭 I feel a little bit embarrassed? Or maybe it’s shame, i am NOT sure but ill still probably write it for you guys

“So when you go to play, you put your fingers on the fretboard…and these strings. Like this.”

For the last 50 minutes or so, Joost had been trying to teach you the guitar basics. You sat together on your shared bed, with your legs crossed around one another as he explained a guitar's different parts and components, making sure you knew what he was referring to when he said certain pieces of info.

You watched his fingers closely, admiring the way they bent and pressed on each string. His blue-green tattooed knuckles caught your attention more than the lesson ever could, reading the same numbers you had seen every single day.

“Like…this?” You murmured, copying his hand placement on your brand new electric.

“Yeah, like that.” He nodded, strumming his fingers along the steel wire, creating a light and lively sound from the strings. “That’s an A chord.”

You nodded, holding your pick a little awkwardly before plucking the same chord, being a little bit more gentle with your strings. “Like that?” You asked, glancing up at him for approval.

“Very good, that was great schatje.” He beamed,  giving you a quiet round of applause. “Alright, now let me show you uhh…D chord. Yes.” He nodded, immediately diving into an explanation of the chord.

Unfortunately for Joost, his voice fell on very deaf ears.

All you were focusing on was his face. The pretty mole at the bottom of his lip seemed to speak right over his voice. It commanded your attention like some sort of ray of light, begging you to stagger towards it like a moth to the moon.

And then his hair, oh dear god don’t even get me started. It sat so perfectly on his head, his bangs messily clipped away with one of your pink flower clips. He had long since dropped his attention back to his star-shaped guitar, trying to demonstrate where to put your fingers.

But all you could think about was where he could put his fingers.

“You’re not watching.” He murmured, catching on to how spaced out you were.

It didn’t take him long to glance at you, tilting his head in faux curiosity. He left out a soft chuckle that almost sounded like a scoff, giving you the faintest smirk ever.

“You’re not watching.” He repeated, gripping your jaw firmly and lowering your gaze so it stared at the guitar stationed in his lap.

“Sorry sorry sorry, what were you saying?”  You murmured, feeling the apples of your cheeks grow flush with fever.

“Put your fingers here,” he murmured, waiting for you to mirror his hands with a smug smile.

You nodded, copying his hands and then nodding.

“And then you skip these two…and strum from the third.” He nodded, running his finger along the strings.

You nodded again, this time a little slower as your brows furrowed in concentration. You copied exactly what he did, but for some reason, your chord sounded unstable; almost like it was vibrating against the wood of the fretboard.

“Ah. That’ll happen.” He nodded. “Push down harder with your ring finger.” He muttered, poking your knuckle playfully.

“Mhm…” you hummed, pushing down a little more but still yielding the same sound.

You frowned, rolling your eyes before taking a deep sigh. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong!” You huffed, immediately sensing yourself losing motivation little by little.

“Don’t stress about it, schatje. Guitar is…not easy.” He giggled, immediately remembering all the many times he had been so desperate to break his guitar and never return.

“You just have to learn what works best…C’mere.” He murmured, setting his guitar on the floor and reaching over to you, lifting you up from under your shoulders.

“Oh. Okay.” You snickered, letting him place you in his lap.

“Alright, so,” he began, propping your guitar back up in your lap, and placing his hands over yours.

His hands were soft, but the pads of his fingers were rough and calloused due to years of practice.  The very definition of rough around the edges, and every second you spent with him felt like heaven.

“Alright, back to D chord, ja?” He smiled, resting his chin on top of your head. He placed your fingers in the appropriate place, keeping his firmly on yours.

“Your ring finger. It’s not pressing hard enough.” He rasped, pressing your smaller digit on top of the wire. Not enough to hurt, but enough to hold it still.

“If you can’t keep it still, it‘s gonna move.” He reminded. “That’s what’s making that weird noise.”

“But that’s uncomfortable…do I have to press that hard?” You asked, furrowing your brows in slight annoyance. 

“Guitar is uncomfortable.” He smiled. “So yeah, you do.”

“I’m about to drop this guitar, I swear to god.” You huffed, strumming the chord again, noticing how much better it immediately sounded. 

“See? Much better.” Joost smiled, patting the side of your leg. “Just when you were about to quit. Look, you’re getting better.”

You had to admit, you almost laughed at how quickly you had calmed down when you heard the correct note and not that nonsense you played earlier.

“Alright, we’re gonna do it over again.” Joost giggled, releasing your hands but keeping you in his lap. He leaned back slightly, propping himself up on the palms of his hands.

“Start from E. I’ll help you if you mess up.” He smiled.

“Wait…E was this one?” You murmured, placing your pointer on the 4th string, middle on the third, and ring on the second.

You glided your pick across the strings, nodding when you yielded a bright and fun-sounding strum. 

“Good job!” Joost smiled, giving you another quiet applause. “It’s not so hard, see?” He murmured, wrapping his arms around your midriff.

“You literally just said it was hard earlier?” You chuckled, rolling your eyes.

“I lied.” He giggled. “Guitar isn’t really hard, but I am.”

“Oh wow.” You giggled, maneuvering your hands around the guitar to pluck different chords experimentally.

“Now do C7.” He giggled.

“No, I hate you, and I hate C7.” You groaned, rolling your eyes. 

It wasn’t really a hard chord, considering he was still showing you the basics, but it was annoying. Your fingers didn’t like positioning themselves so awkwardly.

“C’mon, you can do it. Learning is a process.” He assured, resting his chin on your shoulder instead so he could monitor your hands.

You sighed, fighting the urge to throw the guitar and play the little game of finger crochet you had been playing for almost an hour now.

“Nope…this finger goes here,” he corrected, immediately moving your hand. “Try again liefje.”

“Nope. I quit.” You huffed, letting go of the guitar completely.

“No, don’t do that.” He laughed, raising his eyebrows with slight shock. “Giving up isn’t good, you’ll never learn. Just try again.” He urged, fiddling with the bottom of your shirt.

“Maybe I’m overreacting…” you sighed, picking up the guitar and assuming the proper position again.

You played the chord over and over again, pressing and tweaking with the wires repeatedly to try and get it right but it was impossible to focus.

“Joost, move your hands, I can’t play like this.” You giggled, rolling your eyes.

“What? I’m not doing anything.” He teased, gently squishing and prodding at the fat of your breasts. “You can play just fine, I’m not blocking your hands.”

“I’m not blocking your hands!!” You mirrored in an exaggerated high-pitched voice, intending to mock him but giggling through your words.

“You can play just fine, look!” He protested with a wide grin before pinching your nipple between his fingers gently, earning him a small whine.

“Close enough, sounds like B major.” He giggled, sticking his tongue out impishly.

“Y’so mean, feeling on me while I’m trying to…learn guitar..” you muttered, still trying to pluck your notes as he attacked your neck and chest.

Your breathing grew labored, and your focus flew out the window. You had always admired Joost’s hands, but there was nothing better in the world than to have them on you.

“Can I take this off?” He asked, lifting the bottom of your shirt slightly.

What a blessing.

“Yes.” You said, a little quicker than you would have liked to admit. But shame is just a social construct.

“Thank you,” he purred, lifting your shirt up in the same breath.

Joost’s hands squished and prodded your delicate and sensitive skin, being as gentle as possible as if you were the softest of angels.

“You poor thing…can’t even concentrate on playing…” he cooed, grinning evilly as your guitar slid out of your lap and onto the floor below with a sharp thud. “I’ll help you, don’t worry.”

His small, patronizing tone and soft smile would have been annoying if it was anybody else, but it was hard for it to be anything but attractive when both of your heartbeats drowned out the afterthought of shame.

“You’re beautiful” he murmured, sucking purple and blue hickeys on your neck, holding your head still by placing his hand firmly on your jaw.

“Lay down, baby. Let me help you” he urged, slowly lifting you from off of his lap and setting you down on your sheets.

Joost was a gentle man, no doubt about it. No, probably not a gentleman, but a gentle man. He took his time with you, running his hands up and down the plush of your thighs.

“I love you” he reminded, pulling down the waistband of your sweatpants.

He leaned down, trailing kisses from your sternum to your lower stomach. He was so slow; his pace was killing you with how feather-light and leisurely it was.

“Joost, c’mon, please..” you whined, reaching your hand down to tangle your hand in his hair.

“Be patient…” he smiled, leaning his cheek against your inner thigh. “Good things come to those who wait.”

He kissed the soft skin of your womb before flattening his warm tongue against the fabric of your panties, relishing in the way you twitched at the contact.

“Don’t run,” he chuckled, holding you by your thighs.

“I’m not running…” you snickered, rolling your eyes at him as you ruffled his hair a bit.

“Not now,” he smiled, pulling your simplistic panties down with his canines. “But you probably will.”

And without any warning or signal whatsoever, Joost latched onto your cunt, lapping and sucking your poor and achy clit.

The sounds were filthy; wet and slick slurps mingling with your pants and moans. You tugged at his hair, making any sort of effort you could to ground yourself.

“I know, I knowww.” He hummed, sending vibrations straight to your sensitive core as he held your free hand.

He was so persistent, his head not disappearing from between your thighs even once. He tugged you closer to him, wincing a little as you kept a vice grip on his hair.

He peers up at you, his two-toned brows furrowed slightly as his eyes gaze into yours with heavy lust and admiration. 

His tongue feels delicious against your weeping folds, his other hand leaving your thigh to bully your sensitive bud.

The room around you was fading to white; your senses became overcrowded with the many factors screaming in the room.

The sinful sounds of Joost eating you alive like he was a starved man, your tiny tears that pricked your waterline, the whines of Joost’s name filling the little amount of empty space left between you and the 4 walls of your room, all of it.

“Joost—! Please, 'm gonna-“

“I know.” He murmured, giggling into your cunt as he pried your entrance open with his two fingers, which was more than easy due to how wet and pent-up you were.

Your breath caught in the back of your throat and the world faded into a blank slate of white, a loud and abrupt whine ripping through your vocal cords. But that didn’t stop your boyfriend, no! Never.

Even after your orgasm had crashed against you like a tidal wave, Joost didn’t even slow down. Not one bit.

He continued to suck and tease your now overstimulated clit, giggling subtly at your little cries of pleasure.

“You can take it, I’m not done” He mumbled against your entrance. 

He was so hard it hurt; at some point, he was beginning to wonder if he was just eating you to try and alleviate the ache in his boxers. But it didn’t matter, you tasted too good for him to even think about prying his mouth away from you.

“Mmh, je smaakt lekker” He hummed, working his fingers in and out of you, abusing the spongy spot against your walls that had you crying for more.

He knew your body like he knew his guitar; what keys to press, where his hands should go, and how to keep himself from breaking anything that shouldn’t be broken. 

“Joost—! Can’t…Can’t, ‘s too much!” You stammered, laying your hand flat on his head as you tried to push him away.

“It’s too much!” He mocked, coaxing you into one more orgasm on his tongue before giggling and kissing your trembling thighs.

“Het spijt me, vergeef me alsjeblieft.” He smiled, pulling your pink flower clip off his head so he could take himself seriously before pulling down his sweatpants.

“You wanna hold my hand?” He offered, letting you weakly find purchase in his larger palm.

Everything about Joost was big, which is funny enough considering his name meant small. His hands, his legs, his height.

And that large size carried through EVERYWHERE, making sex a tight squeeze.

He slid his boxers down, just enough to let his light blush-pink tip spring free, angry and neglected as pearls of clear dribbled down onto the sheets.

“You okay?” He asked, swiping his length across your shiny and sensitive folds. “I won’t do anything until you’re ready…”

You nodded, lacing his fingers gently between yours. “Yeah, you can, it’s ok” you nodded, smiling at him softly.

Joost nodded, lining himself up with your entrance.

He squeezed your hand, running his thumb over your knuckles as he pushed into you, whining quietly as he buried himself in your welcoming warmth.

You don’t even recognize your sounds as your lips part to make way for broken and breathy moans. 

He gave you slow but deep thrusts, not wanting to accidentally hurt you. His right hand found purchase under your hip, holding you steady as his hips met yours again and again.

“Just like that…there you go.” Joost huffed, picking up the pace with his hips.

His dick bullied its way through your entrance, intimidating and prodding that spongy spot up against your walls over and over again.

Breathy moans and low groans fell from you and Joost’s lips. His fingers holding your hip pressed into your skin were sure to leave little bruises in the shape of the pads of his fingers.

“I love you…” He rasped, staring down at where you connected.

It was a sinful sight; a murky white ring around his glistening dick. He smiled, biting down on his lip before leaning down to kiss you.

You were so close— just teetering on the edge as your tongue danced with Joost’s. He swallowed your moans like they were liquor, throwing back shots that burned down and kept him giddy and satisfied.

“Almost there, baby…” he murmured, letting go of your sore and barely-bruised thigh to rub small and tight circles on your clit.

Oh, it was so over for you.

With one loud screech of Joost’s name, he clasped his hand over your mouth to save you a noise complaint as you painted him white with your release.

Joost let out a heavy, guttural moan as he shot hearty splurges of white right through your womb before collapsing on top of you, panting right next to your ear.

“You’re so pretty, I love you so much.” He slurred, kissing your cheek.

“I love you, too.”

Your guitar lay forgotten on the floor, counting the beats of silence per minute as the pair of you drifted off to sleep.

[localicecreambiter]

beware the yappening

if you saw me post this, no you didnt

I hate tumblr mobile

IF IT WASNT CLEAR BY THE SPIKE IN FOUR SWORDS CONTENT ITS BEEN ON MY MIND LATELY!!! so obviously that means the obligatory redesigns >:) I tried not to play too far into the stereotypes (not that there's anything wrong in indulging in those!!... i did throw in headcanons tho, like heightened and dulled senses... ill explain dw)

we'll start with shadow since I kinda forgot to draw him initially, lol. sorry buddy 😥 I gave him a shard of the mirror as a means of being able to exist. he can still float around and slip into the shadows and all, but he's not as powerful as he was when the mirror was full. (his ego definitely still is big though) he's not fond of chainmail despite the rest of the four and Link wearing it. his tunic mirrors what links would've looked like. any triforce motifs appearing upside-down and little swirl on his belt backward since he's from the Dark World and all that jazz. silly stuff. I kept it relatively simple since I doubt Link is very over the top, and Shadow has no sense of bodily autonomy at that point (he would so have an over the top outfit, let's be real) Obviously he gets along well with Vio, but he and Blue banter quite a bit. Sure, both mistakenly get offended sometimes but it's all in good fun! His hair looks a little more rounded here, but it's usually more flowey and sticks up every which way. unruly hair for an unruly boy. shadow loves quality time!!! what could be better than hanging out with those you love and burning down towns??? okay, void the town burning.

Red's design is also fairly simple: longer skirt, exposed chainmail, sleeved tunic, and a rounded collar. he has a rounder shape language (not that I paid too much attention to it, obviously) his hat curls up where the elemental stone is at. no one understands how it does this. Red thinks it's some knick knack he stored in there. UNNATURALLT WARM. like. concerningly warm. He's their magic user, preferring to use his magic rod over his sword (honestly, probably could wipe the floor with the other three if given a good magic item, but don't tell them that)(and yes im calling it a magic rod cuz it shoots fire and ice) Poor Red got the short end of the stick with poor hearing but great taste buds. He's a foodie at heart and it's obvious why. His hair is a lot fluffier and rounder than the other three, matching his soft and bubbly personality. Not a pant wearer. Obviously he has the magic rod and slingshot, but i also gave him the Bombos medallion since its an item in the FSA game. Green suggested they split the loot evenly. No. He's not allowed to use it. Yes, he's accidentally blown up a lot of things with it. That's why hes not allowed to use it. definitely a physical touch kinda love language guy. you know exactly why. impulsive spender. has quite a few burn scars from learning to use the fire rod. most of his tunics are a little singed, but he keeps some neat

ah, Green, the resident insomniac. usually that's Vio's role, but you cannot tell me this guy didn't get Link's terrible sleeping habits. he constatly looks sleep deprived in some compacity, but he's getting better! sure, it usually means someone has to hold him down until he sleeps but hey! better than nothing! his tunic matches most Links with the sleeved overtunic and collared undershirt. he uses he sword quite often, having the most finesse with the weapon out of the group. occasionally he'll bust out the boomerang. sort of the unofficial leader, keeping the group on track, but is always open to suggestions from the rest of the Colors. I gave him the Pegasus boots, since I'd assume they all don't get the loot they would've picked up along the way. His element is wind, so it felt the most fitting he had them. his hair is a little messy, and sure he sometimes has a stick in there, but he does his best to keep it combed. Despite his drowsiness, he's got sharp eyes (the best in the group, as a matter-of-fact!) Unfortunately, his sense of smell is lacking (but clearly he has it a lot better than Red does. I mean, seriously, id take hawkeyes over tasteaholic any day). Hes a little shit when playing Ispy; typically picking really tiny things and reveling in the fact no one can guess it. his elemental stone is attatched to his belt even though its a place it can get easily lost. somehow he has yet to lose it. the back problems arise from Link, mostly, though his isnt as bad as Vio's (maybe because hes not slouched over a desk half the time, but i digress) Typically level headed and focused, keeping the group moral high with Red (aka, keeping Vio and Blue's moral high because they tend to be more pessimistic) (well, Vio considers himself a realist and Blue is Blue)

since i dont consider Shadow that much of an idiot, Vio probably had to actually stab Green to make it look convincing. While the scar isn't big, there's once on his lower abdomen from the Four Sword. They didn't have any health potions, so they had to go back down the mountain to get him help. Green holds no resentment, knowing Vio did what had to be done to gain the enemies trust. the cheek scar is from the pyramid cuz there aint no way he got out of that unscathed fighting against Valenzuela. more of a words of affirmation guy, but enjoys quality time like the rest of them.

Vio is obviously their whittier member. honestly, if he were to be described in DnD stats, he'd have a high intelligence and a medium wisdom because man is this man stupid sometimes. he's not as outwardly arrogant as Blue, at least, not as loud with it. his clothes are usually wrinkled, being more focused on bookwork than much else (this pisses Blue off to no end, being the neat freak he is) despite this, his room is the definition of organized chaos. he knows where everything is, and if you move something, he will not be happy. also not a pant wearer, his tunic has a longer skirt than the others and his sleeves are a lot looser. his hair tends to droop into his eyes and somehow this has yet to get in the way. he prefers to pick off enemies from afar as the team's bowsman. amazing aim and a very steady hand. while he doesn't have as big of a magic reserve as Red, he can still use elemental arrows (probably in the same way as in WindWaker) strangely bad at math (simply because i find it amusing) and is pissed that Blue is good at is (again, because i find it amusing. it freaks Blue out) Vio is more of an acts of service kind of guy, but like everyone else enjoys quality time. especially when it's quiet quality time. impuslive spender, mostly on books. everyone else insists he uses the library, but he argues its different when you own the book. impecible hearing, cannot taste shit. it makes eating rations easier, but sadly cannot enjoy the nicer foods in life, so he tends to choose things based on texture. Got the brunt of the back pain, but makes it worse with how he sits and for how long he does. honestly has a weird complex where he thinks of himself as superior to the rest in a way, yet also manages to struggle to fit in and hates himself for it. not explicitly touch avoident, but hes not one to seek out physical affection often and tends to be one of the first to push Red off (other than Blue) his stone is pined to his bow holster since he tends to always have it on him, he wont lose it that way. the fact that the rest have theirs in such irresponsible spots upsets him. refuses to sleep until he's done something he considers productive.

last but not least: Blue! my favorite guy!! god what a prick, i hate him. his design is a lot more knightly with more chainmail and a brutish sort of look. he's intimidating alright, even at his 4'11 stature. look. hylians are short. his hair is spikey like his personality and his hat is more angular (mostly cuz he folds it everynight. theres permanent crease marks in it) ends up with the most scaring thanks to his irrisponsible sparing and little use of healing potions (yet despite this, he's the group medic) the nick in his ear was from some random enemy camp that he just ignored for a while. I never said he was a responsible medic when it came to himself. hes mean, sure, but hes trying. just a little blunt. okay, very blunt. very blunt and very angry. hear me out: mom friend. if that mom was divorced and had anger issues. he knows the others are fully capible of handling themselves, cuz if he survives, why shouldn't they? despite that, he still worries. I know that it says his left eye is blind, but he can still see some color, its just reaaal blurry. does anyone know that? only red. will he tell anyone else? not unless he has to. does he run into shit when hes not paying attention. sometimes, yeah. to top it off, he - like red - got the short stick with shit vision but a heightened sense of smell. he can smell a monster camp from up to a mile away. impressive, right? dont tell him that. this boy has a lot of injury issues, being as reckless as he is. the knee injury was from a particularly nasty moblin (possibly the same as where the eye scar came from. who knows? he wont tell) and got worse as it got ignored. look, when you're the medic, you gotta make sure everyone else is okay before you. at least, thats how Blue sees it. not to even mention the nerve damage from being frozen for god knows how long. I don't know about you, but (assuming it was a Wizrobe) being magically frozen has its side effects. so what hes a walking icepack (exaggerating, but he's cold enough outwardly that you can feel it) and so what his hair grows in a few shades lighter than everyone elses? they don't gotta know why or when or how or even that it happens. the hair dye is stashed under his bed and he will die if anyone finds out. it reeeally fucked with his magic, seeing as hes associated with the water element.. do green and vio know about any of this? nope. red was sworn (read: threatened) to silence. probably the most physically fit when split, and makes sure to take good care of his body. he likes to push himself, hence the ankle weights. always has to be doing something productive. hes their financial guy, somehow having the least impuslive spending habits. will typically only spend on necessary things. gets mad at the others for buying egregiously expensive recreational shit. (that umbrella shadow has? yeah. expensive as hell. he was not happy) the most touch avoident of the bunch. unexpectedly, blue is a gift giving guy. he gets embarassed about it when you question it, or even when hes giving it to you, but yeah. he likes giving things to people and then will throw insults at their face. not in a mean way. in a "im embarassed and you suck so shut up" way. quality time is something he enjoys as well, liking to spar with his brothers often. can easily master a lot of melee weapons, its impressive, but cannot for the life of him make anything else work. his stone was made into an earring, and despite vio's complaints, he usually knows when its missing.

[lxdreyar]

Hi guys! I did it in the fall, for Halloween, but I've only translated it now! I hope you enjoy this zombie virus universe comic! Sorry for the bad English, I used a translator.

Laxus Dreyar. He is nicknamed "Thunder" because of his loud voice and unexpected appearances out of nowhere. Ivan Dreyar, Laxus' father, decided to do research on this very virus. But not in order to create an antidote, but in order to find out how the virus can be manipulated for its own purposes, subjugating (already former) people. Young Laxus, not fully understanding what is happening and why his Grandfather banished his father from the town, follows him to find out everything and help his father, believing that he was driven away unfairly (he does not know the reason and cannot believe that his father could do something so terrible). Ivan was not so friendly towards his son, believing that he would interfere with him in every possible way, as he saw in him exactly the same thoughts and views on life as Makarov. While they were walking to Ivan's temporary base (which he created while still under Makarov's command), he finally decides that his son will be an obstacle to him, after a couple of phrases that Laxus said "casually." Therefore, in the same way, "casually", as if by chance (so that his conscience would not torment him) pushes him down from the roof of one of the garages along which they were walking. The guy lands extremely unsuccessfully, from that moment Laxus has no right eye. Ivan watches as his son slowly dies and his conscience begins to really torment him. He begins to grieve even more when he sees one of the infected fall to his knees in front of his son and bite his hand. Ivan goes downstairs, realizing the mistake he made. He kills the infected and decides to stay with Laxus until he dies. He heals his eye as best he can, spending some reserves of alcohol and bandages on it, and can only wait for when he will have to kill his own son a second time. But what a surprise for him when Laxus wakes up fully conscious after a while, he feels bad because of the loss of his eye and he is disoriented, but he is alive, can talk and, in principle, no symptoms appear on him. Ivan dramatically redoes the story of Laxus' fall, saying that it really was an accident and pulls him towards that very "base" - the "Raven's Tail" There he tries in every possible way to explore Laxus and the only thing he understands is that His bitten hand has become darker, almost completely black, the veins have swollen and become brighter and obvious purple color.

But it didn't go above the forearm. It was in this area that the weakness and problems in using the right (previously leading) appeared. hands, because of what he will have to retrain and become left-handed. At this base, Laxus eventually meets a newly arrived guy, Freed Justin. Despite his abominable socialization, he manages to make friends with the guy (although, rather on the contrary, Freed manages to make friends with him) and from that moment on they spend all their time together. After a while, Laxus finds out that Freed has some other deadly disease and he has very little left. It breaks his heart and he angrily shuts himself off from everyone (including Freed) A couple of days later, Ivan calls Freed for one of the studies, telling him that it could help with his illness. This study becomes lethal for the green-haired man.

Laxus was an observer of this study, greatly worried about his friend, so when everything went wrong and Fried began to literally change before his eyes, losing his mind and screaming in pain, he began to panic greatly. When Laxus saw that Freed's pulse had stopped, his heart broke for the second time. Realizing that he was left without the person who had become his first and true friend, he slowly began to lose his mind. He saw hallucinations in the form of Freed, dreams, sleep paralysis, and so on and so forth. He could hear his voice and it seemed so real..

[carlottawllms]

The Night I Nearly Lost You

Mason Mount x Reader Angst / Fluff Word Count: 6.7K TW: mentions of accident and injuries (nothing descriptive or too bad)

I really hope you’ll like this one! Enjoy <3 As always, feedback is very much appreciated.

With the way you’d already gotten up on the wrong side of the bed, you should’ve known that staying in the warm heaven would’ve probably been the best solution for everyone.

Not only had you woken up in a cold sweat after a terrifying nightmare, but then the water in the much-needed shower just wouldn’t get warm and as if that hadn’t been enough bad news already, on top of all that your coffee machine had failed.

You should’ve just called it a day, but with the responsibilities adult life brought, it just wasn’t that simple.

Technically, it was your day off today, but as a paediatric nurse in the PICU in a London hospital that was understaffed and impaired by several sick colleagues, you never really had a day off – unless you weren’t home.

But since you’d nothing planned for today anyway, you’d agreed to being on standby in case someone was needed. Especially as the sick children shouldn’t suffer just because the health care sector was barely supported by the country’s politics.

And apart from that, you really loved your job. Sure, it was a challenging one – mentally and physically – and it could leave you crying in the on-call-room every once in a while, because the moments when there was nothing that could be done for a sick child anymore were far too devastating.

But then there were also the wonderful moments when children, cured of their illnesses, were able to leave the hospital. And seeing the children running down the hall, healthy and with grins on their faces and their relieved families, knowing you’d played a small part in that too, made it all worthwhile.

Just as you’d sat down on the sofa, your coffee ready for a relaxed afternoon on the sofa, your phone rang: Jessy. The deputy head of care service.

“Hi Jessy.”

“y/n, I’m very sorry to call this early, but Mary just called in sick and without her Helen would be on her own.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m on my way, I should be there in 15.”

You knew the drill, having done it countless of times already so at this point putting your shoes and jacket on, grabbing your bag and some snack within less than 3 minutes was second nature to you.

Traffic in London was always bad and especially in the late afternoons so with going some rather unconventional routes you hoped to beat the worst parts of the traffic so it wouldn’t take you too long to arrive.

And apparently for the first time today luck seemed to be on your side, as all the traffic lights turned green just in time for you to avoid having to stop altogether, but it left you the moment you crossed the last set of lights as the last thing you heard was a very loud horn and then everything went dark.

*

“Nah seriously mate, he’s jokes.”, Mason laughed, as he patted Luke on the back.

After a fairly draining training session, that had left his legs aching and burning, all Mason had wanted was to go home and flop down on his sofa with as little movement as possible, but instead he was now sat between Luke and Licha in one of the restaurants not far from Carrington.

The guys had talked about grabbing some early dinner together after the session and when they’d asked him to join, he’d not been able to refuse. They’d happily accepted him as part of the family, so who was he to say no to an invitation.

“Honestly though, I know him from the England squad like, Rashy can confirm that an-“, Mason interrupted himself when a name he’d not expected to see ever again flash up on his phone. “Hang on for a sec, I need to take this.”

He grabbed his phone as he left the table quickly, his heart beating out of his chest. After everything that had happened and not being on speaking terms for about 8 months, he hadn’t expected to ever hear from you again and seeing your name now brough feelings to the surface he’d buried six feet under.

After taking a deep, but shaky breath, he answered the phone. “y/n?”

“This is Elizabeth Brown from St. Thomas Hospital London, am I speaking to Mr. Mason Mount?”

“Yes, that’s me.”, he answered, his body suddenly feeling all cold. The hospital?

He knew he should be more careful with things like that. After years of being in the football business he knew that fans went down questionable paths to get information, but the moment the woman mentioned the hospital – the one you didn’t work at – his mind went blank.

“Erm…you said hospital? Is…is she okay?” Mason tried to stay calm although his heart was beating out of his chest. It was never a good sign when the hospital called and judging by the sick feeling in his gut, this wouldn’t be a good call either.

“Mr. Mount, I’m sorry, but Ms. y/l/n was involved in an accident and brought in a couple of minutes ago, she was rushed into surgery for treatment on several injuries, that’s all I can tell you right now. She had you saved as her emergency contact, is there any way you could come?”

There was a bit of a pause as he was too shocked to say anything. He tried to take steady and even breaths, but they just came out faltering, only adding to the lightheaded feeling.

“I erm…” Mason grabbed a hold of the railing close by. His legs were shaking, and he felt like he was going to faint any second. The accident…the surgery…you injured… “I’m actually not…we erm…we broke up 8 months ago and erm…I’m not in London…I-“

“You’re her only emergency contact.”, the woman explained kindly. “You can call family and ask them to come, but we’re not allowed to just call someone else.”

Running his hand over his face, he took a deep breath, trying not to panic as he thought about the options he had.

Unfortunately, there weren’t very many. You didn't have a very good relationship with your family – something that had always been hard for you - so he couldn't notify any of them. Your friends in London were not well disposed towards him since the break-up so apart from driving himself, he only had the option of asking Ben.

But you’d still saved him as your emergency contact so maybe he should actually go? Was it just because you’d forgotten to change it? Or had you meant for it to stay the same? But that wouldn’t make any sense, would it?

“Mr. Mount?”

“Yeah, sorry.”, he mumbled, running his hand through his hair. “I erm…I’ll see what I can do. I’ll either come down myself, which would take a couple of hours, or I’ll send Benjamin Chilwell. Can you erm…can you put that down somewhere, so he’s allowed to come in?”

“Yes, of course, no problem at all.”

“Thank you, Mrs. erm?”

“Brown.”

“Right, sorry. Thank you, Mrs. Brown.”  

“That’s okay.”, she told him. “Our doctors will do everything to make sure she’s alright. The surgery will require some time and then Ms. y/l/n will still be out due to the anaesthesia. So please don’t rush.”  

After the call ended, Mason took a moment. He leaned his head against the wall, eyes closed and willing to hold back the tears. His heart was beating out of his chest and with the sick feeling rising in his stomach he was afraid he was gonna vomit any second.

He knew there was only one right thing to do, but for some reason he didn’t think he should actually go. Your relationship hadn’t necessarily ended on good terms and as he’d been the one who’d fucked it up, surely you wouldn’t want to see him out of all people. Maybe he really should call Ben and ask him to go?

“I thought you go- Hey, Mase, is everything okay? What’s wrong?”

“I erm…the hospital called me, y/n was in an accident and…I don’t know if she’ll make it.”

Mason couldn’t explain it, but it was the moment he said it out loud that he truly realised it, that it became real. You’d been in an accident, the person he still cared so deeply about had been in an accident and rushed into surgery, and there was nothing he could do.

“y/n as in your ex?”, Luke asked, and Mason nodded as tears sprung into his eyes.

“Luke, what if the last thing I ever told her was that I couldn’t see a future with her? What if I never get to tell her just how sorry I am for everything I said and that I never meant it? That I was just scared and-“

“Hey, stop. Mase, you need to breathe.” Luke grabbed him by the shoulders as Mason was slowly starting to panic. “This is y/n we’re talking about. She’s a fighter, okay? She’ll make it and then you get to tell her you’re sorry and all that, okay? But right now I need you not to panic.”

Mason took a couple of deep breaths to get himself back under control and once his erratic breathing had calmed down a little, Luke let go of him. He was right, you’d always been a fighter and there was no way you’d stop being one now.

“Is there anything I can do?”

“No, I…they asked me to come down to London. Apparently, y/n has still saved me as her emergency contact, but erm…I don’t think I should go, you know?” Mason ran his hand through his hair again. “Things ended so badly, like I fucked up so much and I don’t think I should go…I just don’t think she would want to see me out of all people…it’s just that…she’s alone and…I should ask Ben to go and see her. I think they still talk and-“

“No, Mase.”, Luke shook his head. “I understand that there’s a lot going on for you right now and yes, maybe she just forgot to change it, but we don’t know that. Maybe this is your chance to make it all right, you know? I get you’re scared, but you should go and see her. Be there for her when she wakes up.”

“What if it just makes things worse? Luke, I hurt her so much and pushed her away when I should’ve just…I don’t know.”

“Okay.”, Luke sighed. “I do understand what you mean and why you’re scared, but Mase the moment she wakes up in hospital with wires attached to her body, she’ll be shocked and scared with hundreds of things on her mind, but your break-up won’t be one of those things. She’ll just be relieved to have someone by her side. You really should go.”  

A few minutes, in which Mason thought about his friend's words, passed. Luke was probably right, and he worried unnecessarily, but what if you really didn't want to see him? What if you just sent him away the moment you saw him?

“C’mon Mase, you and I we both know what the right thing is. Don’t be a coward and send Ben. I don’t know what really happened between you and her, but if she actually meant to keep you as her emergency contact, waking up with the realisation that you rejected her and instead sent Ben would break her heart all over again.”

Mason sighed and nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll erm…I’ll grab myself a coffee and head down to London.”

“Call the gaffer on the way, tell him about the family emergency and he’ll understand. Just be there for her okay?”

-

Without any preparation Mason jumped into the car, leaving Luke to explain why he’d just left so suddenly and made his way down to London.

After calling the gaffer and him unsurprisingly being very understanding of the whole situation, Mason’s thoughts kept travelling around one thing.

You.

You’d been the best thing that had ever happened to him and until today, he couldn’t believe he’d so royally fucked it up and lost you.

First, he’d sworn to himself he’d make it right and fight for you, but then he’d waited too long and too much time had passed. He’d convinced himself you didn’t want him to fight anymore. And he’d tried to convince himself that he didn’t love you anymore, that he’d just move on and find someone else.

But now that he was faced with the terrifying truth that he might not even get to see you ever again, he regretted everything even more. He knew he should’ve at least told you how sorry he was, and that the problem had never been you. What if you’d just left this world without knowing just how loved you’d truly been? What if all he was left with from now on was knowing you as a memory?

The four hours to London passed more quickly than he’d expected, and he found himself in front of the hospital. Just like Luke had asked, Mason shot him a quick message, letting him know he’d arrived safely and with one last deep breath he made his way into the building.

He tried to cross the hall quickly in an attempt to draw as little attention as possible, but when more people turned and stared, he realised he probably should’ve worn a cap and swapped his training gear for a dark hoodie and sweatpants.

“Hi, I’m looking fo-“

“Holy shit, you’re Mason Mount.” The way the receptionist gasped and stared at him with wide eyes made Mason feel incredibly uncomfortable. He buried his hands in his pockets and dropped his head as more people now turned to look at what was happening.

“Listen, I’m looking for someone. I was called for y/n y/l/n. Where can I find her?”

“I can’t believe it’s Mason Mount right in front of me. I’ll have a look in a minute, can we just quickly take a photo?”

The audacity this woman had was beyond him and it took him a lot to stay calm and level-headed when all he wanted was to scream at her to let him know where he could find you. He was in the right mind to push her off the chair and search through the system himself.

“I mean this in the nicest way possible, but I really don’t have any intention of taking photos with anyone here right now. And if you don’t want me knocking on every single door in this hospital, I kindly ask you again to let me know where I can find Ms. y/l/n.”

The woman looked a little shocked, probably not expecting him to put his foot down like that and depending on how butthurt she was, he could imagine her posting shit about him on social media in a bit, but in this moment, he simply didn’t give a shit about his own reputation. All he wanted was to go and see you.

“Oh erm…yes of course. It’s erm…” She clicked a couple of times, seemingly stressed as she looked for your information, before she nodded. “There it is. Floor 5, room 129.”

“Thank you.”, Mason smiled tightly before rushing off towards the elevators. There were three of them and the scoreboard of all of them showed 8. “Fuck.”, he muttered as he quickly decided to take the stairs.

Whilst running up the 5 stories, he prayed you weren’t out of anaesthesia yet as he desperately didn’t want you to wake up alone with no one by your side.

It hadn't been that long since he’d had his own surgery and he knew how relieving it was to have someone sitting by the bedside. He couldn't imagine how much worse it had to be for you, since yours hadn’t been a scheduled one and you were just thrown into this situation. 

Barely out of breath – a perk of being a professional athlete – he took the very last step and opened the huge door. Against his expectations he wasn’t met with the ward, but a regular room, equipped with a desk and sealed stacks of hospital gowns and masks.

A young nurse stood up the moment he entered. It was clear from her reaction that she’d recognised him too, but unlike the receptionist, she pulled herself together after a millisecond.

“Mr. Mount.”, the woman smiled. “Visiting hours are over, is there anything I can help you with?”

“Yes, I was called for y/n y/l/n. She had an accident and I’m the emergency contact.”

“Oh yes, okay. My colleague left me a notification saying that someone would come to see Ms. y/l/n.”

“How is she?” Mason noticed how his voice was a little shaky, the stifling atmosphere only a hospital could create and the burning fear you couldn’t make it through eventually taking a toll on him.

“She came out of surgery about 10 minutes ago and she’s stable. She’s made it through the hard part, Mr. Mount.”, the nurse explained kindly. “When you put these on, you can go and see her. It’s always better for patients to have someone by their side when they wake up.”

As quickly as possible, Mason pulled the blue visitors gown over his clothes before the nurse helped him with the mask.

“It’s room 129. She should be asleep for a while longer, but once she wakes up press the call button, please? I’ll have to check a couple of things.”

“Yeah, sure. Thank you.”

„Oh and you can take the mask off once you’re in the room. It’s just important to wear it on the corridor as there’s critical patients on this floor.“

With a key and a smile, she opened the door that sported ICU in big white letters on the frosted glass. It was 9.30pm and accordingly the corridor was quiet and empty, as Mason made his way to the room the nurse had pointed out.

His legs felt like jello and the way his heart was thundering in his chest, made him wonder if it could burst a ribcage. He couldn’t remember ever having felt this sick, but when he opened the door and saw you, his heart dropped to his stomach.

“y/n.”, he whispered as he felt his heart breaking in his chest.

There you were, asleep in bed with wires and tubes attached to your body. You looked fragile, your face pale. There was a huge gash across your eyebrow, several scratches on the parts of your arms he could see and as his eyes travelled lower, he spotted the cast around your hand and wrist.

The even beeping of the machines, monitoring your heartrate were as reassuring as upsetting, reminding him that it could be over in any moment. As the door fell closed with a gentle thud and he was finally alone with you, tears welled up in his eyes, quickly falling down his cheeks whilst he walked closer to your bed.  

“You need to be okay. Please, y/n.”

Never before had he felt this helpless and lost, this broken and all he wanted was to make you feel better, but looking at you, he didn’t know how. He didn’t know how to be the strong person when it had always been you who’d guided him through every storm.

Hesitantly, Mason reached out and grabbed your good hand in his as he sat down as close to your bed as possible, his eyes trained on the way your chest rose and fell evenly and the movements alone calmed him down a little. You’d be okay. You had to be.

He sat there for what felt like forever, holding your hand and stroking your skin whilst watching over every breath you took and the longer he stared at you the more he realised just how much he’ missed you and how much of an idiot he’d been.

He’d tried to keep it buried six feet under, but now that you’d nearly slipped through his fingers forever, it was like a slap across his face. He still loved you with everything he had.

“I’m so fucking sorry.” Mason lowered his head until he could place a soft kiss to the back of your hand. “Please wake up, y/n. I need one chance to tell you that I miss you and that I love you and that I wish I was yours again.”

For the next hour and half, Mason never left your side. The nurse came in once and reassured him, that you still sleeping was totally normal. She updated him on your injuries and told him that he could stay for as long as he wanted to, but he was sure that even if she’d called the security to remove him, he would’ve fought them and stayed.

Mason couldn’t remember when he’d placed his head on the mattress next to your leg and closed his eyes, but he must’ve fallen asleep a little and it was only when the beeping of the machines changed that he shot up from his position. His neck felt a little stiff, but he didn’t really pay any attention to it as your heart rate had suddenly picked up.

Unsure, if it was a good or a bad sign and if she should press the call button for the nurse, he observed you a little while longer. The cute little crease he used to kiss away appeared between your brows and in a flash, memories of better times rushed past him. Memories in which you woke up from a nap in his arms, tired eyes and a small smile on your face.

The light in the room seemed to be too bright for your liking as it took you a couple of attempts to open your eyes properly, but when you eventually did, he could easily spot the confusion on your features.

Frantically, your gaze flickered around the room, your bed, the cast on your arm and eventually to Mason’s hand still firmly clasped around yours. He could feel his insecurity skyrocketing and blushed deeply. He’d overstepped, hadn’t he?

But as he attempted to pull his hand away, you just tightened your hold on his.

Panic and fear, that’s what Mason saw in your usually so warm and gentle eyes when you raised your head and looked at him. It broke his heart to see you like this and whilst he really wanted to help, he didn’t know how.

“It’s okay.”, he whispered. “I’m right here.”

You had no idea what had happened, why you were in what looked like a hospital and why Mason of all people was sitting by your bed holding your hand but you knew one thing for sure: You didn’t want him to let go.  

Because despite your past, right now he was all you knew and the only familiar thing that gave you some sort of comfort and reassurance in the midst of panic.

The constant beeping around you, the unfamiliar surroundings and most of all the fact you couldn’t remember what had happened scared you. You felt restrained, your head pounded, and everything hurt and when the door suddenly opened flinched.

“Hey, it’s okay, yeah?” Mason squeezed your hand gently. “You’re okay.”

“My name is Ally.”, the young nurse smiled. “I know you must be very confused right now, but I need to ask you a couple of questions, okay?”

You looked at Mason, unsure if you wanted to speak to her, but when he just nodded and smiled you focused back on the nurse. “Okay.”

Your voice was raspy as you attempted to speak, your sore throat making it somewhat impossible, but before you could even ask for some water, Mason held the cup with the straw out for you to take a sip.

The nurse waited for you to finish before starting with a series of questions about yourself and how you’d ended up here and you tried your best to answer them, but as much as you tried to remember, the memory of what had happened didn’t come back.

“An accident is a traumatic experience, so it is quite normal that your brain tries to protect you and hold back the disturbing memories. Please do not worry about this. The surgery went well and if your condition remains the same, we can move you to the normal ward as early as tomorrow.”

She carefully removed some of the wires from your body, leaving you with just the clip on your finger that observed your heart rate.

“I’ll be outside whenever you need me.”, she smiled. “You can use the free bed, Mr. Mount. Sleeping in a chair isn’t the most comfortable.”

And with that you and Mason were back to yourselves. It was quiet for a moment as neither of you really knew what to do or say and as much as you’d love to ask why he was here, you didn’t think you were strong enough to have any kind of conversation right now. You were exhausted, still shocked from what the nurse had told you and above all, you were confused.

A couple of months ago, Mason had broken your heart and left you on your own to pick up the pieces. You should hate him and tell him to go, but you couldn’t. This feeling of comfort and safety only he could provide enveloped you as you focused back on him.

But you were aware he had responsibilities and probably needed to leave soon.

“You don’t have to stay.”, you mumbled, eyes dropping to where your hand was still tightly held by his. “I know you have training and-“

“Do you want me to go, y/n?”, Mason asked quietly, desperately hoping you’d say no. He didn’t want to leave you, but he knew he had no right to just stay. Not after having broken your heart and left you behind like something unimportant.

“I erm…” A shy smile flickered over your face, and you squeezed Mason’s hand. “I’d actually like you to stay.”

“Okay then. I’ll stay.”, he whispered, voice full of emotions. He felt as if he was 10 pounds lighter and the relief rushing through his veins gave him a little high as he got up from the chair and let you know he’d grab the bag of clothes he always kept in his car for emergencies.

“I’ll grab some things from my car, but I promise I’ll be back in a bit, yeah?”

With a fond smile on your face you nodded and you expected him to leave, but to your and probably his surprise, he leaned down and kissed you softly on your forehead. “I’m so glad you’re okay, y/n.”

Mason practically ran to his car and then back up as he didn’t want to leave you alone for too long and once, he was back and had changed into a t-shirt and shorts, he moved the bed the nurse had pointed out for him to use, as close to yours as possible.

You were still pretty exhausted and the lingering pain obvious on your features, but you seemed to fight the sleep trying to catch up with you. Your eyes constantly looked for Mason and it wasn’t long until he figured out why.

“Hey, I’ll still be here in the morning, okay? I won’t leave you alone, I promise.”, he told you softly before shuffling closer to you and turning onto his side so he could face you properly. “Go to sleep y/n. I’ll stay awake, yeah?”

Instead of answering, you straightened your arm until your hand was on his bed, palm up and only when Mason wrapped his hand around your smaller one did you close your eyes.

Mason’s heart squeezed in his chest. The moment a perfect reminder of that one hot summer night, he’d convinced you to sleep outside in his garden on nothing but thin mattresses. You’d both been lying on your backs, staring at the beautiful night sky. Whilst counting the stars, you’d absentmindedly reached your hand out and grabbed his and the moment had burned itself into his brain.

Whilst he watched you fall asleep peacefully, the tip of his finger just about caressed your warm skin. It was something he loved doing. Your skin was always so soft and warm and welcoming and whilst he knew you loved his touch, it was also an action that never failed to calm himself down.

Once he knew you were fast asleep, he settled down himself, body angled towards you and hand still wrapped around yours, but although he knew you were okay, sleep wouldn’t take over as he constantly needed to check you were still breathing fine.

But at some point he must’ve fallen into a light slumber, as he was awoken by your quiet whimpering. Mason shot up into a sitting position and wiped over his face in an attempt to wake up properly.

You were still asleep, but there were tears rolling down your cheeks and the way your body shook had Mason terrified you’d hurt yourself even more.

“Hey, y/n. Wake up, love.” He shuffled over and into your bed. Mindful of your injured body, he carefully pulled you against his chest as best as he could, arms wrapping tightly around your shaking frame. “C’mon, y/n. Wake up, it’s just a nightmare.”

He tapped your cheek lightly in an attempt to wake you up and get you out of that horrendous dream that was torturing your poor soul and the moment you gasped and opened your eyes, he let go of a deep breath.

“Mase!”, you choked, the images of your dream still burned into your mind, but the way he held you close to him helped you calm down slowly but surely and when you felt him pressing his lips to the top of your head as he gently rocked your body from side to side whilst whispering reassuring words, you relaxed into his chest.  

For a while you just stayed there, calming your rapid breathing with the help of his even heartbeat right under your ear and in that moment, you realised how easy it was to just ignore your past and just feel safe in his hold.

“Why did you come here?”

Your question hit him out of the blue and Mason was confused for a second what you were referring to, but then he realised.

“You’ve still saved me as your emergency contact.”, he explained quietly. “The hospital called me and told me about your condition and asked me to come see you. I wanted to send Ben first cause I didn’t think you’d want to see me, but then I just…I don’t know, I just couldn’t live with the thought of rejecting you and not coming to help you, you know?”

You didn’t say anything, too overwhelmed by the fact that despite not speaking for about 8 months, he’d made his way down to London to be there for you.

Maybe the two of you still had a chance? When he was willing to drop just everything and drive 4 hours for you, then why should you stay stuck in the past yourself?

“Can you please stay?”, you whispered, face pressing a little more into his chest as you felt your cheeks heating up.

“Of course.”

“No, I mean with me here…like…in my bed and…hold me?”

“I’ll hold you for as long as you want me to.”

“Forever then.”, was what you thought, but you knew you couldn’t say it out loud. Not yet at least. Instead, you sighed deeply. “Thank you, Mase. Also, for coming here.”

“Anything for you, love.”

It was the second time the pet name slipped out, but this time you could hear it and whilst Mason’s heart dropped to his stomach in fear of having overstepped, yours warmed in your chest.

The way his hand was running through your hair and up and down your spine relaxed you like nothing else ever could and it wasn’t long until you were back asleep in his arms.

“I’ll fight for you, y/n.”, he whispered as he watched you sleeping peacefully on his chest, something he didn’t think he’d ever get to see again. “I promise I’ll never leave you again unless you send me away.”

Mason dropped a gentle kiss to the top of his head before he closed his eyes and let himself drift off as well.

-

When the gentle rays of the morning sun had woken up both of you, you’d stayed cuddled up with each other for a while, simply enjoying a moment neither of you were sure would happen again.

He’d meant to speak to you about everything straight away, but the doctor and nurse came to do their rounds shortly after he’d gotten up and brushed his teeth, so he had to postpone the inevitable for a little while longer.

They explained what they’d done in surgery, that everything had gone well, and you would be transferred to the normal ward before lunch. You asked a couple of questions about recovery times and what kind of support you’d need and to Mason’s relief you seemed to be a lot better than what he’d expected.

And then, the both of you were back on your own.

The atmosphere was a little tense, the events of the night before hanging above you both and whilst you felt a little lighter about the whole situation, you still needed some sort of explanation for closure.

“I think we should talk.”, you mumbled, heart beating out of your chest. The night before had felt as if everything was okay and whilst you’d loved being back in his arms there was still this deep settled worry gnawing on your insides.

You patted the edge of your bed, signalling him that despite the serious conversation ahead, you wanted him to be somewhat close.   

“Why did you do it?”, you asked once Mason had sat down.

“I was scared.”, he admitted quietly, not needing you to be more specific with your question. “I fell so bloody hard for you that the thought of you ever leaving me…it just…it just messed with me. I already knew I’d most likely move to Manchester, and you’d just started that new job and…god I’m so fucking sorry I was such a coward.”

Ashamed, Mason dropped his head, fingers playing with the white bedsheets. He felt like shit and like the biggest idiot in the world. Instead of talking to you, he’d made up his mind that you’d break up with him anyway and to save himself from the pain, he’d done it first and ruined both of your lives in the process.

“There’s no excuse for what I did, but I need you to know that I am incredibly sorry. Ever since I left your flat that night, I haven’t stopped regretting the things I said and how I made you feel, how much I hurt you.”

Mason ran his shaking hand through his hair, heart beating out of his chest as he tried to keep himself together.

“I should’ve talked to you, I know, but I’d somehow made up my mind already, convinced you’d end things and let me go on my own because…we’re both not made for a long-distance relationship and…I just…the way I felt for you was so special and so rare and I just got so scared.”

“Felt?” Your voice was small and hesitant and when Mason looked up and saw the tears rolling down your cheeks, his heart broke all over again. He hated himself for how much pain he’d caused you in the past and how now it was happening again.

“Feel.”, he whispered, terrified of admitting it as chances were you didn’t feel the same anymore, but he needed to get it all off his chest to keep the tiny hope you’d take him back alive.

“I still love you, y/n. The truth is, I love you so much it scares the shit out of me because I know I’ll never be able to love anyone the way I love you. From the moment I met you, I knew you were special and that’s why it still hurts so much. I had the best person ever in my life and I fucked it up.”

“Mase.”, you sniffled, trying to hold your own tears back as you whipped Mason’s off his reddened cheeks. “Please don’t cry.”

“It’s ridiculous I know. I am the one who ruined the best thing ever and now I’m sitting here crying whilst you were the one I put through so much, but when they called yesterday, I thought I’d never get to tell you how sorry I am and how much you mean to me and I realised that I might never get the chance to hold you again and to tell you how much I love you and…I’m just such an idiot for pushing you away when all I ever wanted was to be with you”

His sobs and words were breaking your heart. Yeah, he’d hurt you, but it was obvious that he’d hurt himself too. Very much so and whilst you’d always wondered what it would take to heal fully from your break-up, you now realised that there was no way you’d ever get over it unless you faced the challenge and gave him a second chance.

A chance you knew he deserved. He’d dropped everything in Manchester, probably even went through the horror moment of calling his new manager and telling him he wouldn’t be able to attend training, only to then drive four hours to the capital to be here for you.

If he hadn’t cared, he would’ve sent Ben. But he hadn’t. And you appreciated it more than you could ever explain.

“I understand, Mase.”, you mumbled, pulling him into your chest and holding him close whilst you both cried in each other’s embrace.

“It’s not okay and it will take a while to be okay because you’ve hurt me a lot, but I accept your apology.”, you managed to say after a while, causing him to cry a little more and you gently ran your hand through his hair, scratching his scull in an attempt to calm him down. “Look at me please?”

When he pulled his face out of your neck and his bloodshot eyes found yours, you smiled at him softly.

“Yeah, you hurt me a lot and those last 8 months have been hell, but you’re here now and yes it will take a while to come to terms with it all, but Mase, I still love you too. I love you to bits and although I’ve really tried, I couldn’t get over you. There’s always been this pathetic hope to get you back someday.”, you sniffled as you sent him a teary smile. “Being without you was terrible and I don’t want to go through that again. You’re here now and we need to work on a lot of things and talk a little more, but I do want you back – if you’ll have me that is.”

Mason pulled his trembling bottom lip between his teeth as fresh tears fell. There was no way you’d just said that.

“Of course, I’ll have you.”, he sobbed. “There’s nothing else I want more.”

You gently cupped his face with your hands, thumbs brushing away the still falling tears and when he smiled at you, really smiled at you, your heart melted.

“I’ve missed you so much.”, he mumbled. “God, I’ve missed you so much you have no idea.”

“I do.”, you nodded. “Mase, I’ve missed you just as much.”

And before you could chicken out, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his in a hesitant, gentle kiss.  

—————

I genuinely hope you enjoyed reading this. You would make my day if you left a little feedback so I can see what you liked and what I can improve on 🩷

[velvetypoets]

Spoiled Rotten

James Potter always gets what he wants. That's just how it goes.

Warnings: James Potter x reader fanfic, James is down bad, I tagged marauders but no peter, Slytherin reader, Black family reader, reader is portrayed as she/her, reader centric, forbidden love trope, SFW, James perspective, Sirius loves his friends, James is a blurting mess but it leads to victory anyways

thank u sososomuch for the support on the first one!!! im very fond of this work and everyone's been super sweet to me. THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE UPLOADED 1 MONTH AGO BEFORE I WENT ON A FIELD TRIP IM SO SORRY my dumbass uploaded it in private. the third might take a longer while since ill' be busier with uni so this one will be a tad longer. ty for the warm support and ily guys <333

[ part 1|part 2|part 3 ]

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The clock was striking 1:00 when it appears. Perched at the Marauders dorm windowsill stands the purest white owl with beads of orbs so clear James could almost see his own reflection. Its eyes focused on Sirius's drooling face and for every little twitch he makes, the bird's grip on the letter in his claw tightens.

He left a crack of the window open on purpose once Sirius and Remus had fallen still. Sirius had been bullying—Scratch that, James thought. Assaulting every owl that even comes close to the trio the whole day. Looking at it, the bird and Sirius seem well acquainted so what did that Tawny ever do to Pads? James wondered. That owl got a few of its feathers off this morning fighting his friend all for nothing.

 "Emerald," whispered James from his bed. The majestic being blinks slowly before diving in from the open window as she lands gracefully at his bedside table. The letter she was so carefully guarding sits neatly on his lap now. James was simply astonished, "A magnificent bird for a magnificent girl, huh? Thank you, Emerald." 

Emerald blinks to him as she receives James smile. She went straight back to her guard duty and she turned her head dutifully to watch Sirius. He reaches for his glasses and the letter opener next to Emeralds's feet, the bird doesn't flinch one bit. He takes a deep inhale from the velvet green coloured paper as he opens the letter. The parchment smells of the same one that he's been basking in all night. Yes, he slept with his stupid scarf with trails of your warm scent on his neck.

I heard there was an attack on an owl by a wild dog this afternoon. Can that brat of a cousin be any more duller?

James can't hold his smile any longer, he glanced at Emerald who seems interested in his expressions as she keeps looking his way while still keeping guard. "Oh, so you do have a personality," He whispered with a chuckle. 

I don't know how you and Lupin stand him this long. Well, you live and you learn. Now take good care of Emerald. She's fed and full so don't even dare try to buy her love with treats. I told her to keep her eyes on the dog for as long as you're reading this letter. 

Do send her back once you're done, simply say the words. Meet me at the farthest tower of the south near astronomy at dawn. You're a prankster, figure out how to sneak through Filch yourself.

Knock 4 times. Sincerely, 

A blot of ink ended the last word of the letter. James ran a finger softly to it as he let go of the breath he was holding for so long. He reads your letter over and over till he's sure he can recite every word. It was way too short. He reminds himself to ask his charm professor tomorrow of a protection charm to keep time from damaging. 

"Bloody hell, did you really have to risk us all getting the cold for a darn letter, Prongs??" Remus is awake, James expected it. He's a light sleeper and the ruffling paper sound James was making while inspecting the content of the letter to see for any hidden message was probably enough. That and the cold air of a one in the morning approaching winter breeze. 

Remus's drowsy eyes lands on the white snow owl perched on James's table. His brows furry, "Its a snow all along? What was his problem with that Tawny from earlier then??" James shrugs a shoulder still deep in thought, he has not a care in this world right now for anything other than the piece of paper in his hand. "She warned us it was a snow. He shooed all the other owls for precaution I guess,"

Remus lets out an annoyed sigh at James reply, "Those poor birds. We genuinely have enough feathers now to last the three of us a school year thanks to him." 

James hums at the comment. They did keep all the feathers since it'll be a huge waste. They were also avoiding Filch's fury for littering. Remus looks at the sight of his best friend fully immersed in a mere piece of paper, "You're really going through with this?"

The boy halted, looking up to find Remus's concerned face. He knows what he's doing. His best friends are protecting him from what only compares to a mountain of incoming trouble.

Sirius had made it truly sound that your family are absolutely no one to tamper with. With how dramatic he is, he made it explicitly sound like what James has done is an entire war crime. "I told you! Archivus and Nebula Black are not ones to tamper with! They will leash hell on you if you keep this up!"

"Well I can't stop now, Moony."

"You can't or you won't?"  

"Why do you always ask questions you've always known the answer to, my friend?" James lets a frustrated sighs as he rests his head back to his pillow. He cast it to float over his face. All of those words, all 120 of them– 121 since James is counting in the ink blot, they're all directed to him. You took the time to write and send it through your owl, for James. A letter from his new, his cherished, girlfriend.

A full day had abruptly passed by from that meeting with you in front of Charms. Every word and every tune you uttered rings about his head the entire day. Especially the last few bit, one on which you called him your boyfriend. He'd never thought for a million years that you would've called him that soon. James would've never had the guts to do it first. He was supposed to be the courageous one. He's Gryffindors poster boy for Merlin sake!

My idiot boyfriend. Idiot. Boyfriend. Her boyfriend. I'm an idiot boyfriend.

"I don't... know why I'm like this either. I just know I have so much love to give to her.

"Remus turns his head to the window to relieve himself of a smile. He bites his lips for an answer to not let it known, he promised himself he would stay neutral, "I won't stop you."

James closed his eyes. Remus knows the weight he sets free to his friend. He glances back at the owl now looking curiously at him, "Close the window after, yeah? Good night, Prongs."

"Good night, Moony."

——————————————————————————

The marauders had all made up and are back to being attached at the hip again the next day. Remus dragged Sirius the next afternoon to another puzzle night—of which Sirius has a lot to complained about all day— at the common room. Sirius isn't the type to sit around for too long and even for James, finishing a 10k puzzle seems a lot.

The type of person Sirius Black is though, is one that transforms the entire Gryffindor common room decorations and moves the furniture to lay out blankets and swarms of pillows. He even went as far as sneaking to the kitchen and begs the Hogwarts house elves for cookies and hot chocolate. Now there's a huge misunderstanding about the elves point of view in Pads since he is in fact, a Black. But Sirius isn't himself if he didn't have tricks up his sleeves and James has a hunch on that.

"I must say... You've really outdone yourself now, mate," James said, sincerely amused. Sirius put his last touch of fluffing the pillows before he approached James to join him in examining the room, "Oh what would our little Moony do without me, huh Prongsie? Now that I've learned my lesson on that painstaking first game night I'm making this activity worthwhile. He was only going to set up a plain grey blanket and tea! The general ones in bags too! Glad I rid of that one quick."

Sirius makes a condescending tsk, tsk, tsk from his mouth before his brow furrowed, "Say... Where are you off to, Mate? You know you're always welcome to join us. I mean, lily and the other girls said they're joining too."

He wouldn't be able to lie and look at Sirius's face. James averts his attention to kneel and inspect the steaming tray of cookies and fudge laying on top of the puffy carpet. Sirius had somehow got the grant from McGonagall to lay out the Christmas carpet early for the game. Moony's going to have such a headache keeping the carpet out of cookie crumbs.

"Believe me my cookies loving heart breaking here but I've got to talk to Slughorn, Mate. Thinks he's got an idea on improving one of dad's medicines."

Sirius eyes lit up in the last sentence, James wants to punch himself in the face, "That's terrific! That's such good news for Fleamont, Prongs! Why we should be the one joining you!!" Sirius didn't even question him one bit, he pulled him stead to a hug full on the thrill. James hugs him back as he tries to keep his voice from wavering, "Nah, don't ruin your good time with Moony. Go and get absolutely wrecked, man."

Sirius chuckled as he ruffled a hand to James curls, "Oh we'll be so out by the time you got here, don't you worry. I'm going to fill my belly with hard-earned fudge!"

James manages to release himself from Sirius's rough hug and tries to fix his hair up a bit, "I should be going now, but hey! Don't forget to leave me some of that fudge!" He said as he did a bit of run to the door while Sirius tends to Lily and Mary who came just in time to light the candles. Sirius looks back to James one last time, the fangs on him peaking through his grin, "Oh don't you worry, mate. We'll make sure to lick the plate right off tonight!"

James closed the door with a crackle of laughter. He replies to Sirius's grin with an even sassier one, slipping his hand onto his coat pocket that fits exactly four pieces of fudge. He's not James Potter if he doesn't double down.

He puts on the invisibility cloak and makes his way through Hogwarts with ease. Being a Marauder he had his fair share sneaking out a million times and yet, his heart beats so loud it feels like bursting out of him. He's at the southernmost tower bottom of stairs when he heard footsteps.

It was you. You're out of uniform, a Slytherin sweater that's way too big for you and a black coat with emerald buttons that James swears he's seen the same in Sirius's back closet and on Regulus every now and again. You're visibly cold, your cheeks pale as you hold yourself close to keep the warmth in your coat from escaping. Your brows furrowed, James can't think of a more sweeter creature.

Your head whipped right to where he's standing, your face a couple inches away from him. James got absolutely the fear of his life, he almost yelps and gave his presence away. You were looking at the window right behind him, "Dawn is settling... Oh if that man is late for even a minute I'm dumping his ass so hard," You complain to yourself. He held his chuckle and his lips are already giving into a dumb smile as he follows you from a distance. He's thinking of giving you a headstart to make yourself feel better for arriving sooner.

He notices the mystery boxes and blanket you're hiding in the inside of your coat jacket. James eyes widens, it's a thermos that smells familiarly of general store brewed tea, blankets, and a box of magic puzzles.

James freezes in his tracks right then and there, holding his heart to his chest as if its trying to escape. He waits until the door to the tower room at the top creaks open and shuts– to uncover the cloak and lets a laugh for himself. His body trembled the whole time. Tint of flushing red quickly took over his cheeks. James rests his back to the stone wall behind him and let his body slump. He covers his face with his hands before catching his breath and turning to check his faint reflection in the window.

"James Potter you're so incredibly fucked."

——————————————————————————

"There you are!! Do you know how long I've been waiting for you!"

Exactly 9 minutes and 24 seconds James believed. It took him that long to finally rid the tint of his face and regain just enough composure before he's ready to opens the door that leads to you. He counted so he wouldn't make you wait too long. James had decided to set on 10 minutes, max. He closed the door behind him and leaned his back against the door, his famously charming grin forms, "Apologies my darling, I wanted to give you the time to feel like Rapunzel."

Your brows raised, you're sitting in the middle of the room on a carpet with a blanket in your lap. The huge rustic style window behind you makes James view look like a framed painting. "Who's Rapunzel?"

James grin had never fallen that quick, he quickly caught himself, "What? Don't tell me you don't know Rapunzel, Love. Huge Muggle folklore? Long-haired blonde princess that's locked on a tower! She has both a barbie and a disney movie!" His eyes widened in disbelief as he claimed a seat next to you, his eyes met the burnt mark to the hem of your sweater. To rid of feuds from the lack of sharing culture between the Blacks, all family members are required to mark everything they own with a custom spell that burns their names perfectly on the items. (Y/N) Soleia Black He gives a relaxed sigh, he really thought for a second there you were wearing Regulus's sweater or even worse, Notts.

You were nice enough to let him ramble before knocking a soft one on his head, "Really Potter? Muggles? Should I remind you of which lineage I am from?" You shook your head at his clumsiness but you'd be lying if you didn't find that cute. You know what a movie and the gist of it is, Sirius took you to a muggle theatre a while back, "This Rapunzel girl seems like quite the actress to play in a movie with whoever this disney and barbie is though. She's a princess you say, did she ever find her prince?"

You don't seem to be quite aware of the absolute power James is using to not laugh at your innocence, that would be quite rude, "No, well– Yes, she did found her a man but not quite a prince. She fell in love with the thief who tried to rob her and got happily wedded at the end of the story."

You're wide-eyed and let your lips agape at his explanation, James hearts melts at sight of it, "I'm sorry, did you really just say she married the man who tried to bloody robbed her? Happily at that?"

"Oh Merlin, we should really watch tangled together sometimes. I have a telly and the cd at my house, uhh... It's the muggle technology that plays videos on a little screen we learned on Muggles Studies— Well I could just show it to you later, Pads mind was absolutely blown when I showed him," James chuckle as he's reminded of the time he brought his friends over to his house. Sirius keeps trying to look behind the tv to catch some form of little persons coming out.

You giggled at his story, "Is that an invitation for another date, Mister Potter? This one hasn't even started yet," You brought out the box of magic puzzles and the thermos of tea and said innocently, "Why unfortunately for us the wizarding worlds entertainment bizz is limited. Though I did pick up this game that had been trending quite recently. Are you familiar with it by any chance?"

James sighs at the sight of the 10k puzzle game, the same bright colored box with cheesy lines written on it that was sitting as the centerpiece of Sirius's golden plan. Reality is not so subtly mocking him at this point, "Did anybody give this to you or did you lied to the sorting hat and is you just a Ravenclaw in secret?"

You give him a playful punch on the arm, "Hey! Us Slytherins could be smart too! And is capable of doing a little solving here and there, I mean I love to read mystery novels myself. I got the puzzle at the shop but the lame blankets and tea were from this suspicious looking guy in robe that visited me earlier. Made me promised to burn it and never let a wizard know where to find it again. I don't quite get his disgust on the tea, generics are just fine," You pour James a cup of tea from the thermos cup and you look up to find him staring at you like you just said something weird. You raise a brow, "What? You a fancy tea leaves only guy too?"

He snaps back quickly and curses himself in his mind, "No, No! I.. I just never heard you talk that much before," The truth came out of him involuntarily, he's never done this before. Speaking his mind. That only ever leads to bad outcomes, he thinks. Outcomes he can't control. Every second you take to process his words makes him even more anxious, "Look... Fuck, I don't mean anything about it, I love hearing you rant. I'd give everything for it. It's just I've never really heard you talk... This much—"

You watch him stumble on his own words, processing what on earth have you done to this man. For some reason you felt like you've just broken James Potter. Like you went on a ride and it started malfunctioning, is he malfunctioning? Oh God Sirius wouldn't have your head for breaking his best mate right?

"James, it's just me. Breathe, I'm not going anywhere," You said, deciding to save him from more embarrassment that is surely coming if he doesn't stop. It's not just you though, you are not just someone! ,Was all he wanted to scream. You raise your hands to cups his cheeks as it warms your skin almost effectively. James ego can't suffer more than it already is. He is a crumbling, stuttering, mess, all from your presence.

James Fleamont Potter, on his last bit of sanity that hadn't left him yet decides to be truthful for once, "I think your ranting has done burnt my brain."

You stifle a laugh, "Wah-What?! That's your explanation for me? You big foolish mess of an idiot, you! Ohh I'm so going to hex you now! What was all that about, Potter??"

James feels there should exist a spell to make the ground open up and swallow him whole, "Next time you try something new to me, I think you might have to do a bit of precaution first, Lovie," He sighs, he lets a hand courses through the curls of the hair upon his forehead, "My heart nearly jumped out of its place. I'm being truthful to you, you should open your eyes to the crazy things you do to me, (Y/N)."

Hearing your name come out of him feels surreal, not a sweet nickname or your family name, just yours. You don't know how to feel about all of this. You don't know what to think of him. Fuck it. You shoot.

"You don't actually like me do you, James?"

Silence. Then another brain fart erupts.

"What if I said yes?"

That came out too soon for his liking. James lets out a groan as he stops himself from covering his face to hide away, "What about it, (Y/N)? What if I did all this to set myself up with you. What if my thing for our complicated arrangement was you all along?"

You seem to have fallen still again. He brings your hand gently to his face and lightly plants a kiss on the back, "I've completely fallen for you. (Y/N) you have no idea the mess you made out of me. You've not a clue of the lengths I do for you and.. And I feel like I'm always doing the wrong things when I'm with you."

The kiss feels hot on your skin. He continues with his hazel eyes piercing sincerely right through you and it feels like he's seeing you bare for what you are. The girl who was born from the wrong family. A Black with more feelings than the other. The weak one, as your father likes to remind you.

"I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do. Truthfully, I'm not used to love," You blurts, biting your lips in agony.

"I, If there's anything I can do to help you..." He sensed the weight anchoring in his stomach long before it falls. His tensed shoulders feel like it's crumbling down on him. You smile faintly and leaned closer.

Don't blame James for feeling so down cause not even Merlin himself would've predicted you to plant a kiss on his cheek, a near miss from his lips.

"I do feel intrigued enough that you somehow managed to trick me into all this. Bravo, Potter. I think I'd give you a chance."

He's stiff as the day he'll be when he's gone. The paleness leaving his tone as warmth fluttery butterflies color him in the reddest hue. You chuckled,

"Well, Potter. You've got your princess. Now what?"

[simonisferal]

𝚂𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚢 𝙲𝚊𝚝 — Interactive Follower Event

chapter one: black cat, green eyes

notes: sorry for not posting since may 😭, i forgot it existed and i had to make a 4 page google doc for it 😋 do NOT stay with heizou / also i didnt know that my little dividers stopped??? like huh???

masterlist

1.4k words

…Yes. I’ll take it as an apology for the way he acted yesterday.

Ignoring the confident look he gave you after you took his coffee, you take it and have a small sip. It was lukewarm, like he decided to buy it and then contemplate whether or not to give it to you for a few minutes. A very specific taste you’ve learned to like. You locked the front door and went with him.

You two don’t talk as he opens the passenger door for you and he walks over to the driver seat. You sit down, setting the coffee cup in a cup-holder and closing the door. 

Some blood drips down from your nose and you realize you probably look like a mess. You look to the side-view mirror, catching a small glance at yourself before seeing that Scaramouche was looking at you.

He snorts, holding back a laugh you could assume would be about your appearance and leans in. He takes a band-aid out of it before quickly shutting it back up with force, getting a yelp from you.

”So dramatic. It’s not like I’m gonna kill you or something.”

He opens the bandaid and covers your nose with it. It doesn’t really help with the faint bleeding but it’s better than a swollen nose. You hesitate to touch it, long after his hand has already backed away and is on the steering wheel, scared that it’ll probably hurt.

You touched it and it did. It’ll make a bad bruise soon but nothing too bad.

The car ride was silent besides the occasional static on the low-volume radio he had. His car was nice, not expensive but still something much better than your small Toyota you got from your friend's neighbor. You would scroll through social media if you had your phone.

You noticed around five minutes in the ride that you weren’t going to the department. The turns became more narrow and the streets started looking unfamiliar. “Where are we going?”

”A new case popped up. Turns out another murderer is on the loose.” He doesn’t look at you as he continues driving but you can’t help but notice the way his eyebrows furrowed.

”Sounds scary.” You say. Scaramouche scoffs but you catch the small smile on his face. “Sure.”

”Hey! Glad you guys could make it.” Shinobu welcomes you to the scene. It was in a moldy alleyway with an ill stench reaching your nose. There was a tarp over the victim and only a few cops around holding the crowd back. There were a few guys from your station, some from another’s and a few reporters, like Charlotte, that you saw blocked by the ‘DO NOT CROSS’ tape. Your partner went under it, gaining small cheers from the reporters. “Yeah. Who are the other guys?”

“They’re 724’s guys,” Kuki explained. They were honestly an average group of detectives but there was a diamond in the mud.

Shikanion Heizou.

He doesn’t really need an introduction, almost everyone in the force knows who he is. He’s almost too good at his job—the only reason he hasn’t been promoted or fired was because of his off-the-book investigations.

”Those guys? Please, it’s probably not that serious.” Scaramouche crosses his arms like he was offended. He was probably right, Shinobu did enjoy extra precautions and calling another department was a hobby of hers. She only sighed and looked at you.

She opened her mouth and before she could speak, someone else spoke. Speak of the devil…

“Oh, hey (Y/N)! I’ve been looking for you.” Heizou had a smile on his face and he reached his hand out to shake. His hand was gloved, and soaked in blood from probably touching the victim (even though everyone tells him not to).

“Oh! Uh…” You sheepishly smile at him back while sweating profusely, eyeing his hand and Scaramouche’s coat pocket. Your partner sighs, as if knowing what you’re saying, and takes out a random napkin from his pocket. He hands you it and you use it to ‘shake’ Heizou’s hand. “Yeah, nice to meet you too…”

Heizou backs away his hand, taking off the blue glove alongside the napkin and tossing it somewhere on the crime scene. Kuki gives him a side-eye glare and he brushes it off. “Relax! Me and the guys already took pictures and sent things to forensics. There’s nothing of importance here.”

Both Scaramouche and Kuki grumbled at his backhanded compliments towards his work.

”Anyways,” Heizou clapped his hands together, trying to rewind. “It would be most appreciated if (Y/N) comes with me, back to my department. I got something for them there.” His moles moved as he smiled. He was trying to convince you to go with him, you figured.

Kuki held your shoulder, “Come on then. Let’s go.” You, without much thought, let your department manager drag you into a van without letting you inspect the scene properly.

It was dirty, as if someone lived there, but it smelled rather nicely. One seat didn't even have a seat belt—instead duct tape and a magnet that probably wouldn't give you any form of protection in a car accident…

You made Scaramouche sit in that seat.

Unlike the previous car ride, Heizou and Kuki made some small talk about personal matters. They seemed to be close. "Co-workers or cousins?" You mutter.

"Might be both."

"Welcome to our department, 827. We hope to cooperate nicely." A woman, taller than both you and Scaramouche spoke. She had raven hair and the eyes of a hawk. She stood proud until she saw Heizou. A scornful look covered her face and she crossed her arms. 'Was she Shikanion's manager..?’

Heizou steps past her, "That's the Captain. Kujou Sara, meet Shinobu, Scaramouche, and (Y/N). You three, Sara." Everyone exchanges vague greetings and a short handshake before the burgundy hair detective grabs your hand. "I got something for you. It's important, 'kay?" He gives out another smile.

You sweat again. "Uhh, sure." You could trust him, right..? Some other guy, a blue-haired fellow with a mole under his lip, dragged Kuki and your partner away for something else. Scaramouche gives you a glance before following the guy.

"What's it about?"

The smile that once held itself on Heizou's lips shrank. "Can't say it out here, you know. It's like you've never been told a secret." He jokes but something tells you it's probably bad.

Like once before, you let yourself get dragged into an office. You internally curse yourself as he locks the door. He checks the blinds on his door, closing them but ignoring the outdoor windows’. What was such a big deal?

He sits down once he makes sure everything is secure, his eyes closed and his hands clasped together over his desk. He takes a deep breath. His demeanor went from the care-free cop you thought he was to a serious detective as he locked eyes with you. "What I say can't leave this room, (Y/N)."

The room instantly became cold and you felt a shiver down your spine. "Uhmm…what is it?"

Heizou pauses. He eyes you up and down, watching for any shift in your body language. "I, unfortunately, have a reason to suspect that our soon-to-be-serial killer might be going after you."

You blink. "...What."

"The murderer from the alleywa—"

He tries to speak but gets interrupted by a loud knock on the door.

The blinds shake and you let out a small scream, surprised.

"(Y/N)!" It was a voice you knew—Scaramouche's. "We're going back to our department." You don't know whether or not to feel relieved or even more scared.

Heizou groans, standing up and walking over to his office door. He unlocks it and stares dormantly at your partner. "Must you go so soon? (Y/N) and I were having a pleasant conversation." He smiles as if teasing the indigo-haired man.

"Yeah. I don't wanna be in this dumb department, let alone with the Kamisatos over there, when we have work to do and a case to solve." He snarls and he looks at you. "Come on. Let's go."

You tense up and freeze. Why did God always give you two options?! Although you'd love to leave and forget what shocking news Heizou told you seconds ago, if it's real…you can't risk dying because of your cowardness. Or maybe Heizou was wrong, in the one and a billionth chance he is.

Kuki was behind Scaramouche, a frown on her face. You didn’t know if it was towards you or Shikanion. “Heizou, leave them alone. You know they scare easily.”

“Oh, come on! I’m just kidding!~” His smile didn’t falter but his voice did crack, though you doubt someone else heard it. He held out his hands in defense as if he were joking before sliding them around your waist.

His voice lowered as Heizou whispered in your ear. ”What do you wanna do?”

masterlist — prev — next

[builtbybrokenbells]

The Green-Eyed Monster

After a particularly shitty day, refuge in alcohol seems like the best option to help Jake recover from his poor mood. Y/n, his long time girlfriend joins him and his bandmates at the bar with high hopes to salvage the night. Jealousy, which had never been in Jake’s vocabulary, makes its first groundbreaking presence and laughs at its own disastrous effects.

Pairing: jake kiszka x f!reader

Word count: 17k (oops 🤭)

Warnings: SMUT 18+ (actual filth), unprotected sex (wrap it), borderline hate-fucking, rough sex, oral (m!receiving), oral (f!receiving), fingering, dom/sub, degradation, name-calling, slapping, spanking, overstimulation, forced orgasm, touch of bratty sub, biting, mutual masturbation, praise, pet-names, swearing, jealousy, possessiveness, drinking, toxic themes, angst (with a happy ending, pinky promise), arguments, probably definitely missed some, sorry!!

Here’s some filthiness with a touch of toxicity and angst because my last few posts were a bit too sweet 🥰 had to switch it up somehow. got a little carried away with this bad boy. had to cut some out cause i got too into it, so if it seems a little fast paced at the end, please keep that in mind! just couldn’t stop myself. it’s long, smutty, intense and does end well, i promise 😃 also very poorly proof-read cause i can’t sleep and decided to post this tonight instead of tomorrow, so please be nice. as always, be kind, enjoy, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes 🫶🏻

also, side note: all of the love I’ve received for Picasso has made my heart incredibly happy. I was very nervous posting it, and you guys really eased my worry. I appreciate you all dearly, your kindness makes me want to keep writing ♥️

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Jake was in a terrible mood, and there was no doubt about that. Perhaps in the beginning, the idea of a lighthearted night at the bar was intriguing; something to take his mind off his mistakes in the studio earlier that morning, and hopefully to make up for his and Josh’s incessant bickering. It didn’t take long for that idea to turn sour in his mind, too. By the time you both realized it wasn’t going to brighten his spirits, you were already clad in a miniskirt and low cut body suit, hanging over the bar-top to tip the bartender. He thought it best to keep his mood to himself and just try to enjoy the sight of you all dressed up. It worked for a while; the tension remained minimal due to his hand permanently anchored to your hip, reminding him of all he had to be grateful for.

Once he’d gotten a few drinks into him, the familiar smile you loved so much started to grace his lips. The tension in his shoulders melted slightly, leaving him lax against the back of the dirty bar booth. His protective grip around your waist had turned into a loose hang over your shoulders, gently guiding you into his side with a loving undertone. Every so often, he even managed a laugh at his brothers antics, leaving you to believe the night may still be saved. But, only to your trained eye, you could still notice the cloud of irascible energy in his eyes.

You were quite certain that when he’d arrived back to your shared home earlier that day, the bedroom would never recover from the shock of the pornographic scene. You’d been able to pick up on his frustration through limited texts, only to have the speculation solidified when you finally caught sight of the expression on his face as he walked through the front door. When it never came, an uneasiness settled in your stomach. Jake’s favourite method of stress-relief was fucking you, which was always quite fine by you. Knowing that he still had all of the pent up anger left you conscious of the fact the night was teetering on a thin line; if it went well, no harm nor foul. If not, you were going to have to plan ahead for a rest and recovery period.

You were more than shocked when your long-term boyfriend pitched the idea of joining his brothers at the bar. In his ill-temper, he usually turned into a bit of a recluse. But, you thought it best to go along with the idea. If he thought it would cheer him up, you were happy to oblige, and never complained about seeing his band mates. They’d turned into the best of friends over the years, and they were your favourite company to keep aside from Jake. You opted to believe it couldn’t be the worst idea in the world. So that’s where you ended up: sitting in a bar booth with Jake wrapped around you and laughing alongside the other three boys.

They’d picked a small bar that you all frequented. It had low traffic and strong drinks to keep spirits high. There were dart boards, pool tables, complimentary table peanuts and some slot machines if you ever decided to try your luck. They kept a steady stream of dad rock flowing through the sound system when the karaoke wasn’t open to the public, and the bartenders had grown into acquaintances over the months of regular visits. If you were to go to any bar, this was the perfect one to choose. You all had yet to have a bad experience, aside from an occasional wandering hand from a too-drunk regular, or a drunken snide comment that was easily brushed off. The night was destined to be good, assuming Jake was kept in good spirits.

You picked up a shelled peanut, cracking the soft exterior with your thumb. You took one half of the shell and placed it on your napkin, and took the other one and tossed it across the booth. It hit Sam in the side of the head, as he was turned to speak to Danny who was beside him. He whipped his head towards you, the soft thud of the impact catching his attention. He immediately knew the culprit, as you’d been doing it intermittently the entire time you’d been there. You gave him a sweet smile, one filled with innocence, as if to say you would never do such a thing. His accusatory stare made it difficult to hold back laughter. He picked up the shell, which had fallen anticlimactically to the table, and tossed it back in your direction. It bounced off your chin and dropped down into your shirt, causing an eye roll from you. Sam pointed a finger at you, a silent warning not to do it again. You picked it from your cleavage and placed it with the rest of the waste atop the napkin. You vowed to leave him alone, just long enough for him to forget about it, then strike again.

Josh, who was caught in conversation with his twin brother, suddenly smacked his palms against the tabletop, catching you by surprise and making you jump. You turned your attention to him, eager to know what the disturbance was about. “Drinks!” He announced. “One for you, brother dearest?” He asked Jake. He gave him a nod. Josh’s eyes trailed to your glass, noticing the liquid threatening the end and muddled with melted ice. “And for you, pretty lady?” He asked, flashing a smile. Nobody else noticed, but Jake’s eye gave a small twitch, and his jaw clenched at the term of endearment.

“Another Mojito, please.” You grinned, not willing to pass up an offer of a free drink. He had no worries buying them for you. You and Josh had been playing the same game for half a decade; he’d do something nice for you, and you’d hit him back with something even better the next time. The timeless battle had begun after you both had realized arguments of payments and repayments were getting you nowhere. Jake had found it endearing, never a worry in his mind about anything non-platonic. He trusted you with his life, as he did with Josh. He was more than happy that you were so close with his brothers, and would be the first to speak up if he were uncomfortable. But, the war had gone to extremes by times, ranging from signed albums from big music names they’ve met, to rarity collectors editions of his absolute favourite films. If the tally was still running, the amount of money and thought you’d put into each other would be unfathomable.

You looked over to your boyfriend, picking up on the sullen attitude once more. He caught your eye and you gave him an inquisitive look, but he just shook his head. You thought it best not to push him, instead leaning over to place a kiss on his cheek. Before you pulled away, he turned and gave you a real kiss, holding you there for a moment. When he pulled back, he gave you a small smile. You felt your nerves fizzle away, finding comfort in the small gesture. He was really good with always making sure you knew he wasn’t mad at you while he was generally upset. It was a small, constant reassurance that helped guide you through his occasional short temper.

When Josh returned, he placed everyone’s respective drink in front of them. “Thanks, darlin’.” You smiled, stirring the drink with your straw. You took a sip, a hum of gratitude immediately sounding from you. Mindless chatter ensued for a few moments, nothing of importance being spoken into existence. Then, the music over the speakers started to get louder and the lights were dimmed. The trashy coloured lights surrounding the dance floor flicked on, letting everyone know the time had hit double digits. A familiar note sounded, causing you to perk up instantly. Josh caught your eye, raising his eyebrow and nodding to the open dance area.

Without a second thought, you jumped up, reaching your hand out to him. It was a simple action, one that you’d done thousands of times over the years of you and Jake dating, and it had never been an issue. Jake was not a dancer, and you were sure he never would be. You theorized he may even try to skip out on your first dance at your wedding. Josh, on the other hand, was always happy to pick up the slack in that department.

You were a lighthearted spirit, one who loved fun and didn’t care about wandering eyes or judgment, not caring if your dancing or singing was making a fool of you. It was something that drew Jake to you in the first place, and he loved watching the sparkle in your eye as you lived your life to the fullest. He was usually happy that someone was always willing to dance with you; it ensured you were safe and it gave you someone to share a memory with. He was usually quite encouraging of Josh’s antics, especially because it meant the spotlight was off of him and he wouldn’t have to join you on the dance floor. He would never stop you from enjoying yourself, but certain things, as you’d come to understand, were just not Jake-esque.

That night, the sight of you so close with his brother, singing the song back to each other and him twirling you around, set him on fire. He wasn’t sure why. Perhaps it was Josh’s unwavering pet names for you, or the way he always looked at you like he was head over heels for you, or the constant comments of Josh telling him how lucky he was. Or, how it looked like Josh was adding to your light, when in turn, sometimes Jake felt like he dimmed it. Especially on nights like that one, in particular, when he was perpetually angry and wasn’t sure how to shake it off. Or, maybe Jake was still pissed off at Josh’s critique and jabs at the studio when Jake was struggling to play his solos. Whatever it was, for the first time in his life, he was jealous of you and Josh. If looks could kill, his twin brother would have been on the floor.

“You okay?” Sam asked, picking up on Jake’s glare in the direction of the dance floor. His jaw was hard-set, knuckles white from the grip on his glass. Jake turned to face his younger brother, breaking out of the trance he’d found himself stuck in.

“Yeah.” Was all he replied, taking a long drink from his cup.

“It’s just Josh and y/n, they’ve always been like that. You’ve got nothing to worry about, brother.” Sam tried to ease the tension.

“Have they, though?” Jake snipped back, almost immediately. “Like that?” Sam and Danny looked towards you both, studying your actions for a moment. Eventually, they shrugged and gave a nod.

“Yeah.” Sam said, not finding anything out of the ordinary. “Come on, man. Josh would never do that to you, and neither would she. Y/n’s been head over heels for you since the day you met her.” Jake sent a look of warning to his sibling, silently telling him to stop trying to make the situation better. Jake knocked back the last of his drink, letting the bottom of the glass fall back on the table with a thud. Without another word, he stood and went to the bar.

As he waited for the bartender to fix his next drink, he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander back over to you. He expected you both to filter back to the booth when the song ended, but the next tune caught your attention, too. Josh had his hand on your hip, and yours was loosely hung around his neck. You were close to him, but not provocatively close. Still, to Jake, it was more than enough to get his blood boiling. You were laughing at him singing the lyrics to you, swaying your hips in time to the beat. Even in his jealousy, he couldn’t help but admire your beauty. The wrinkles forming in the corner of your eyes, the radiant grin, the way your hair cascaded down and framed your face. He thought you were breathtaking, and for once, he was envious he wasn’t up dancing with you, instead.

He hadn’t realized the song had ended until you presented yourself in front of him, breathless and buzzing with joy. He felt himself soften slightly when you wrapped your arm around his midsection and leaned into him. “Hi, handsome.” He could tell you were tipsy; he could hear it in your words. He let his hand fall from his drink, bringing it to your face and running his thumb over your cheek. The anger seemed to melt away as soon as you touched him, and he was fully engrossed in your presence. The thought of you dancing with Josh became a distant memory to him as soon as you stood on your tip-toes and placed a kiss on his lips. “What’s wrong?” You whispered, concern thick in your voice. He looked down at your face, not knowing exactly how to answer.

“I… I’m okay.” He assured you, leaning down for another kiss. He realized he may have been a bit irrational, especially now that you were with him, showing him ten times more affection than you were with his brother.

“You can talk to me, honey.” You pried just a little, hoping he might open up. He snaked his free hand around your waist, letting it rest dangerously low on your back.

“Think I just needed a kiss.” He brushed your concern off, but you could still sense the indifference in his voice.

“Whatever you say.” You hummed, turning towards the bar. He kept his hand on your lower back, but turned with you. He grabbed his drink and sipped at it while you caught the bartenders attention. He rushed over, giving you a smile.

“Mojito?” He asked. You nodded enthusiastically, happy he remembered your order. He grabbed all of the ingredients, making small talk with you while he made your drink. “You’ve got some good dance moves.” He complimented. You let out a small laugh.

“Thanks, the really good ones only come out when I’m drinking.” You joked.

“We’ll have to keep them coming your way, then.” He said, placing the new cup in front of you. “There you go, beautiful.” The fire that had died down in Jake reignited as if the bartender had poured a gallon of gasoline on it. You noticed his grip on you tightened, and when you looked up you saw the tension of the muscles in his jaw. Jake grabbed his wallet and pulled out a bill. He threw it on the counter and guided you away before you could respond. You looked up at him, noticing the vibration of anger in his hands.

“Jake, what is going on with you?” You only let him lead you away so far before planting your feet on the ground, forcing him to stop with you. He turned his head towards you, eyes filled with an emotion you had never really seen from him before.

“Me?” He snapped. You recoiled at the harshness of his voice. You could see him soften a bit, but he was still ablaze with whatever he was feeling. “You’re all over Josh up there, and then you flirt with the bartender in front of me and I’m what? Just supposed to sit there and watch?”

“What?” You were certain you couldn’t have given him a look more bewildered than the one you were giving him, then. “Did me dancing with Josh bother you?” He didn’t respond, but his eyes did dart away from you. “Jake, I just… we always dance together. I didn’t really think… I’m sorry.”

“Fuck, no, y/n. I’m sorry.” He sighed, rubbing his face with his hand and pushing his hair back. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I know it’s not like that. I’m just in a shitty mood, and I shouldn’t take it out on you.”

“We can go home, baby.” You offered, making sure he knew you were okay with that, too.

“No, you’re having a good time. I just need to loosen up a bit, I guess.” He let out a small chuckle, one that was barely noticeable.

“I’d have just as good of a time at home, alone, with you,” you leaned up to his head, lips inches away from his ear “in bed, naked.” His arm around you tightened, pulling you into him slightly.

“Careful,” he warned. You placed a kiss to the sensitive area just below his ear, lingering there for a moment.

“Just so you know, the bartender could only have me in his dreams.” You whispered before you pulled away. “I go home to you, remember?” His lips upturned into a smug smile.

“Get over there and keep drinking,” he ordered “before I have to take you to the bathroom.” The look in his eye led you to believe he wasn’t joking. You felt a blush creep up to your cheeks, taken off guard by the bluntness of the statement. He gave you a wink, subtle enough to go unnoticed, but obvious enough to send a rush of arousal straight to your core. “Don’t get too drunk, though. I’ve got a long night planned for you.” He promised, placing a delicate kiss to the top of your head, as if the words he said weren’t laced with filth.

You joined his brothers back at the booth, both of you sliding in as if nothing happened. Jake resumed his earlier position, slinging an arm around your shoulder. His whole aura was much lighter than it was a few moments before. As the boys divulged into conversation, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander to your interaction with Jake. He wasn’t a jealous person; in fact, you couldn’t recall a time off the top of your head where he had been. You’d been dating him for just over five years, knowing him better than anyone else. He could be slightly possessive at times, and even that was rare, but he was never outright jealous. Above all else, he was protective of you. He was always quite comfortable with the fact that you were his, and nobody stood a chance. At the same time, you’d never given him a reason to believe otherwise, because there was none. You were hopelessly in love with Jake, and always had been. To you, no other boy existed in that sense. He was everything you needed, and beyond that. Still, the idea of him radiating with jealousy sparked something inside of you. It was new, intense, and admittedly, very hot.

You shook the thought away, realizing it was not the best time to be thinking about how attractive you thought he was. You were broken from your thoughts when the volume at the table heightened. You looked up to see Sam and Danny locked in an arm-wrestling position. Josh had his hand on his brothers shoulder, encouraging him, while Jake was leaned in to the table slightly, cheering Danny on. You couldn’t help the laughs that you let out, finding the whole scene boyish and amusing. After a few moments of struggle, Danny took the win and pinned Sam’s arm down to the table. Jake let out a triumphant noise, removing his arm from your shoulder to reach across the table and giving Danny a congratulatory high-five.

“Pay up.” he said to Josh, now holding out his hand to his twin. Josh rolled his eyes, but fished his wallet out of his pocket and grabbed a twenty, sliding it across the table. Jake grabbed it, a smug smirk on his lips, and put it in his own. The betting war between the brothers was uncontrollable. They loved to put money on the stupidest of things, and when there was nothing pre-existing to bet on, they made something up. It was never about the dollar amount, more so just bragging rights.

Jake rested against the booth again, the satisfaction of winning giving him some momentary cockiness. Instead of returning his arm around you, he let his hand rest on your thigh under the table. You did your best to keep your expression the same, trying not to focus on the warmth of his palm on your exposed skin. His fingers drifted under your skirt, slowly making their way between your legs. He let his hand rest stop there for a moment, not wanting to push you too much. “So, y/n,” Josh started, catching you off guard. You looked up to meet his eyes. “I think that pool table is calling our name.”

“Rematch from last time?” You joked, raising an eyebrow.

“Redemption is a better word.” He corrected.

“And if I beat you again?”

“You won’t.” He dismissed you, not even considering the possibility. “But, if on some off chance you do, dinner is on me the next time we go out.”

“You said that last time.” You teased. “No originality.” You let out a small tsk. He feigned a look of offence. The conversation was allowing you to take your mind off Jake’s wandering hand.

“Fine, what’s your idea?” He conceded.

“I don’t have a better one, I just like making fun of you.” You shrugged. “Anyone else care to join?” You asked the rest of the table. There was a mutter of agreements and nods. Josh slid out of his seat first, followed by Sam and Danny. Jake was hesitant to move his hand from your leg, holding you there for a moment. You turned your head to look at him, giving him an inquisitive look.

“Better not keep him waiting.” Jake murmured, looking over your face. Your breath caught in your throat as he moved his hand up a little further, fingers inches away from your underwear. “What’s wrong?” He asked, a small smirk playing on his lips.

“Behave yourself, Jacob.” You said, your lips upturned into a smile, too.

“Mhm, careful.” He gave the same warning as earlier. You knew very well that in every sense, he was always going to be in charge when it came to anything bedroom related. Still, it always proved fun to push his buttons. He pulled his hand away, ushering you out of the booth. As you stood, he delivered a quick smack to your ass. You let out a gasp, quickly looking around to see if anyone noticed. When you found you were in the clear, you gave him a glare over your shoulder. “Love you.” He said, smiling in response to your reaction.

Instead of answering, you began to walk away. He made a mental note, ensuring he would get you to say it, later. He followed you as you made your way to the pool table, where you both noticed that your company had picked up some extras. There were three new faces, two girls and a boy. “Ah, thanks for finally deciding to join us!” Sam bellowed as you walked up beside him. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you into his side, in a very annoying younger brother type of way. You rolled your eyes, attempting to wiggle your way out of his grip.

“Who’s your new friends, Sammy? Had to find some people who don’t know enough about you to make fun of you, yet?” He let you go with a dramatic, but light, push.

“Get out of my face,” he said, a smirk on his lips.

“You love me.” You nudged him with your elbow.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Your eyes turned towards the new faces, taking in the sight. Both girls looked quite similar, and the guy was nothing like the boys you’d come to the bar with. He was tall, had short, blonde hair and bright eyes. “I don’t know their names. Josh started talking to them.” Sam shrugged.

“Figures,” you laughed, knowing all too well how much of a social butterfly he could be. Jake was standing behind you and Sam, opting to stay out of the conversation. Eventually, when Josh caught sight of you, he waved you over. You joined him, allowing him to introduce you to his new friends. The girls were friendly enough, but didn’t particularly stick out as memorable in your mind. The guy was nice, too, but his wandering eyes were very noticeable and very uncomfortable. “Nice to meet you all.” You addressed them all together.

“So, is this your girlfriend?” The guy asked Josh, which produced a booming laugh from both of you. Jake, on the other hand, did not find the question very funny. And he found Josh’s answer even less tasteful.

“A man can dream,” Josh sighed, humour clearly laced in his tone. You smacked his arm, chuckling at the thought. “Unfortunately, just my best friend, my confidante, my partner in crime,” he paused, looking over to you. “Soulmate?”

“Too far,” you warned, but couldn’t help the smile that broke on your face. You knew he was drunk, just by the formulation of his words. The statement itself was nothing out of the ordinary; Josh loved teasing Jake, although he never really managed to bother him with it. That night, though, was an entirely different story. Every word that Josh spoke seemed to piss him off even more.

“So you’re on the market then?” The unfamiliar boy asked. Your eyes widened, shocked at the bluntness of his question. That seemed to be Jake’s breaking point, as he pushed through Danny and Sam to join the conversation. His arm snaked around your waist in an instant, the familiar feeling immediately comforting you.

“Absolutely not.” His tone was firm, but not threatening. When you looked up to see his face, you were certain that if his expression were rewritten in a comic, that would be the scene where smoke was coming from his ears.

“Ah, sister-in-law was probably a good descriptor, too.” Josh said, giggling at his brother. Jake shot him a glare in response.

“Sorry, man. Promise I didn’t mean any harm.” The boy raised his hands in defence, showing Jake he wasn’t trying to start anything. Jake calmed slightly, nodding in understanding.

“I think a game of pool will certainly lighten the mood!” Josh announced, drawing the attention away from the tense moment. He grabbed a cue from the rack on the wall, breaking up the group. The boy who you couldn’t really remember the name of followed Josh, leaving you and Jake to yourselves for a moment. The two girls were chattering amongst themselves, completely uninvolved in the situation.

“Soulmates, eh?” Jake looked down at you, a look of annoyance on his face.

“Jake,” you warned, giving him a pointed look. “If this is because I’m upsetting you in some way, let’s go and talk about it. If it’s just because you’re in a bad mood, quit it.” You told him. You weren’t mad at him, but you weren’t willing to be chastised all night when the root of the issue didn’t even begin with you. He’d never once had an issue with the nature of your’s and Josh’s relationship. The surfacing of his anger on a night where he’d already been upset seemed to be an indication that he wasn’t solely upset at Josh’s words, but more in general. He wasn’t the best at processing his emotions, and tended to direct them at smaller situations to avoid dealing with the main issue.

A note of apology flashed in his eyes at your words. Before he could answer, you broke away from him to grab a cue for yourself. He watched you, feeling a fizzle of regret form in his chest. You weren’t acting any different than any other night, but for some reason he couldn’t seem to shake the feeling from himself. He was too deep into his miserable mood to break out of it, now. He was pulled from his thoughts when Sam called him over to the pool table next to the one you and Josh were playing on.

Josh had started the game, fully keeping your attention on the table rather than Jake’s sour mood. Sam and Jake had started their own game, eventually joined by Danny and one of the girls from Josh’s new posse of friends. The guy had moved on to try his luck with another group of people, clearly only at the bar in attempt to get laid. The second girl was hovering around the other part of your group, watching the game with intensity. You tried not to notice, but every so often her eyes would drift and land on Jake. You shook off the distraction, zoning back in on your own game. You lined up your cue with the cue ball, and shot at a solid ball. It rolled in flawlessly, and you moved on to the next.

“Cheater,” Josh grumbled as he watched your next ball sink, too.

“Don’t hate the player, hate the game.” You shrugged.

“Could never hate you, mama. Just strongly dislike you.” He gave you a cheeky smile. You gave him a scoff of disbelief, knowing for certain there was no world to exist where Josh would dislike you, or anyone, for that matter.

When your turn finished, you stepped back to observe his. As he lined up his shot, your eyes drifted over to the table next to you, finding Jake and Sam laughing at a joke one of the girls had spewed out. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to look away from Jake’s smiling face, trying not to focus on it. But, in the back of your mind, you couldn’t help but think about how that was the happiest he looked all night. As much as you wanted to be annoyed at him for questioning your loyalty, you couldn’t find it within yourself. Yet, anyway. The sight produced more sadness than anything else. You swallowed your insecurity, chalking it up to you overthinking the situation.

The night carried on, the empty glasses piling up by the pool tables, and your inhibitions greatly diminished. You and Jake had silently made the agreement to steer clear of each other in avoidance of a blowout at the bar. You stuck with Josh, bouncing from pool, to darts, and even the dance floor a few times. Jake found himself constantly engrossed in the nameless bimbo that had taken an interest in him. Somewhere between drink seven and double digits, you’d both engaged in undiscussed competition to see who could piss the other off, more. When the clock neared twelve, the karaoke section of the bar opened up. After picking up another beverage at the bar, Josh was pulling you in the direction of the stage.

He put the songs in, shutting down your inquiries and telling you it was a surprise. When you both got on stage and grabbed a mic, Jake was seething before the first note of the song played. “Seriously, Josh?” You laughed as the name of the song flashed across the screen.

“Come on! It was a good choice.” He grinned.

“You’re trying to start shit.” Still, even as you scolded him, his drunken delight was incredibly entertaining.

“He’s being an asshole,” he said, making sure his mouth was away from the mic. “I’m sure he’s trying to do the same thing with her.” His eyes floated in the direction of his twin, who now had his arm hung loosely over the other girls shoulders, similar to his hold on you earlier in the night. Red flashed in your eyes, but instead of lingering, you turned to Josh, no longer worried about the choice of music.

“Let’s give a performance of a lifetime.” Was all you replied. He smiled, happy you were on the same page. You both divulged into the song, very dramatically singing the words to ‘Don’t Go Breaking My Heart’ by Elton John.

By the end of the song, you had almost completely forgotten about Jake by the pool table. You weren’t sure if it was because of the liquor in your system, or the sheer amount of fun you were having. You were still a bit breathless by the time Josh’s second choice lit up the screen. This one, although not a duet, was probably one of the most venomous choices he could have made. Mixed between Jake’s love for Jimi Hendrix, how often Jake played it and dedicated the song to you, and the connotation of the lyrics, you were surprised Jake didn’t get up on stage and strangle Josh in retaliation. Your eyes widened, looking over at him in concern.

“He’s been mad at me all day, and he’s taking it out on you. Let him be upset, he’s being a dick.” Josh said, his words assuring you that he would take the heat for the song choice. It felt nice to know that Josh also thought Jake was acting out of character; jealousy had never been in his vocabulary, and the toxic game you found yourselves caught in was something you had never done before. You and Jake had barely had more than an argument in your years of dating. The longer it dragged on, the more painful it became. He had a short temper, but you couldn’t recall a time it had ever been pointed at you, let alone caused a spiteful interaction. As much as it was hurting your feelings, it was fuelling an anger within you that you weren’t sure even existed before that night. The liquor and the sour mood didn’t mix, and you should have known that from the beginning, but had no idea it would divulge into anything close to whatever the current situation was.

By that point, all of the boys had caught on to the tense nature. Sam and Danny were baffled that Jake was even willing to put his focus on another girl, let alone his hands. He was nothing if not loyal to you. Usually, his eyes would never even drift to another girl. Everybody was more than aware that he loved you as much as his music, if not more. They were also very aware that you and Josh were acting out of retaliation, fuelling the fire and hoping to get the last dig in and end it for good. The girl remained quite oblivious to the whole affair, just happy to be receiving some of the attention. Sam let out a long exhale as Josh began to sing you the lyrics to ‘Foxey Lady’, him and Danny certain that this was the brutal climax to the entire night. Jake was vibrating with anger, and there was no consolidation when you’d given up your hesitancy and sang it back to him. Sam and Danny shared a look, silently agreeing that they were going to have to put a stop to the situation one way or another before it got too out of hand.

Jake bargained with his temper, deciding on how to respond. Anger would be too easy, and too obvious. So instead, his course of action was the most disastrous one he could think of. Rationality was completely out the window by that point. He grabbed the girls hand, who he still hadn’t learned the name of (and he didn’t really care, quite frankly), and pulled her towards the dance floor. You didn’t notice at first, too caught up in the singing and laughter you were sharing with Josh. Everyone else did, however, and were awaiting the storm that was brewing. At the height of the song, you finally noticed that Josh had become a bit distracted from the performance. You looked to him, realizing he was staring off at the dance floor, and followed his gaze.

You cut off your singing mid-sentence, your heart plummeting to your stomach. Jake was dancing, in midst of twirling around the girl he’d been using as leverage all night. When he pulled her back in, his hand rested on her hip and he gave her a smile. It was a sickening sight for you. You slipped the mic back onto the stand, cautiously stepping off the stage, and headed straight for the door. You threw back the last of the liquid in your cup and set it on an empty table as you passed by. As the door slammed behind you, tears prickled your eyes and a lump began to form in your throat. At the sound of the door, Jake’s head turned to the stage, finally noticing your disappearance. Panic struck him, realizing he’d definitely taken it too far. He caught Josh’s eye, but wasn’t met with any type of reassurance. He’d won the battle, but at too much of a price.

He cut the dance short, not caring about any formalities, and followed hot on your trail. When he got outside, you were already on your way down the street, far clear of the parking lot. He muttered a curse under his breath, and took off in a jog after you. “Y/n!” He called, but you didn’t turn back. You kept your pace steady, hoping that you could make it home before he caught up. Your shared home wasn’t too far away from the bar, only a few minutes by foot. You thought if you could make it there before him, you could regain yourself a bit more. When he realized you weren’t going to slow down, he ran a little faster.

He managed to catch up, grabbing a hold of your hand to stop you from going any further. You tried to shake out of his grip, not willing to make any conversation with him, but he refused to let go. “What?” You finally snapped, turning to look at him. “What do you want, Jake?” He recoiled slightly, never once hearing you speak to him in that tone.

“I…” he trailed off, eyes wide and unsure of what to do.

“You what?” You asked again, tears still falling from your eyes. “Came to tell me all about your new dance partner? I can go get my shit out of the house and you can move her right in, in my place, if she’s so fantastic!”

“I don’t even know her fucking name, y/n.” Jake rolled his eyes, only fuelling your fire even more.

“That’s the point!” You yelled back, finally freeing your hand from his. “You don’t even fucking know her, and you get up and dance with her. It’s been five years and I can’t even get you to do that with me! One hand, Jacob. I can count on one hand how many times you’ve danced with me. I got tired of hearing no, so I stopped asking!”

“Jesus Christ, all of this over a fucking dance? You were practically fucking Josh all night, and I haven’t said a word about it.”

“That’s a lie, but we’ll unpack that later.” You scoffed. “It’s not about a dance, Jake. It’s about effort.”

“Effort? Like I dont give you my entire heart every day?” You opened your mouth to respond, but closed it and proceeded to turn around and walk away. You weren’t willing to have a screaming match in the middle of the street, especially while he was still mad. If there was one thing you knew about Jake, it was that while he was upset, he had very little rationality. “So you’re just going to walk away?” He snapped. You turned on your heels, giving him the dirtiest look you could muster.

“Get in the fucking house. We can talk there.” You pointed in the direction you were walking in. His eyes held the same emotion as yours, but he obliged, anyway. When you saw him start walking towards you, you turned and walked, too. The few minutes it took to get to the house were uncomfortably silent. When you reached the front porch, you unlocked the door and stepped inside. You flicked off the porch light when Jake made his way into the house, too.

You stormed to the kitchen, discarding your purse on the table and throwing your keys beside it. You did your absolute best to make it up the stairs in a stormy fashion while still wearing your heels. You didn’t have much time to gather a thought, because he was hot on your trail. “So what is it, then? If it’s not ‘just about the dancing’?” He mocked you with air quotes, hiking your temper up even more.

“The small things, Jake. Yeah, we wake up to each other every morning, and I get a kiss goodbye, but the small stuff matters. Like dancing. I love to dance, and the only time I’ve ever gotten to dance with you, I had to practically beg you. You’re with some complete stranger, and that’s what you decide to do to get under my skin? That was really low.”

“So you’re mad that I used it against you while Josh was up there singing my fucking song for you?” He took a step closer, face inches from yours. “You got plenty of dancing in with him tonight, I figured you got it all out of your system.”

“You’re missing the. whole. point.” You annunciated your words carefully. “I was up dancing with Josh because you never would! It hurt me because you won’t do that one simple thing with me, ever, even when you know how happy it makes me! And she got to have it with a snap of her god damn fingers, even if it wasn’t for the right reason. I got to watch you do something with another girl when I have to beg you to give it to me.” You sat on the bed, pulling your foot up onto your knee and messing with the strap on your heel.

“Didn’t seem like you missed me too much, tonight.” You closed your eyes, expelling a long breath to calm yourself down.

“I was only dancing with him because I couldn’t dance with you, Jake. I was only hanging out with him because all you wanted to do was argue with me.” You kept your voice steady, trying not to feed into him. “Do you think I prefer dancing with your brother? Getting asked if I’m his girlfriend, when we’ve been dating for half a decade?” You inquired, still messing with the strap of your heel. He let out a sigh, grabbing your ankle and pulling your foot up to rest on his thigh. He carefully undid the strap of your shoe and slipped it off your foot. He held his hand out, motioning for you to lift your other leg. You gave him a look of confusion in response.

“What? I’m mad at you, it doesn’t mean I don’t fucking love you.” He grumbled. “Give me your other foot!” He ordered, anger still present in his tone. You did as he said, allowing him to free you of your other shoe. When it was off and both of them were discarded in the closet, he resumed the conversation. “Certainly looked like you were enjoying yourself.” He finally replied. “With your… hmmm, what was it?” He asked, placing his fingers on his chin and pretending to ponder the answer. “Oh, yeah! Your confidant, your partner in crime, your soulmate!” He bellowed. “Who can only dream of being your boyfriend!” He let out a mocking sigh, laced with fake dreaminess.

“I don’t understand why tonight, after years of being together, Josh and I’s friendship is bothering you. You think if there was really a problem, you would have said something, oh, I don’t know, years ago?” You stood again, feeling more secure without your shoes on.

“Because you were using him to get under my skin!”

“God, you’re insufferable sometimes!” You shouted, pushing past him to go back downstairs. He was on his game, not letting the sudden movement deter him. He followed you as you walked. “You were doing the exact same thing! And in case you forgot, you were being a dick before we even got to the bar! I gave you ample opportunity to speak up, or go home, or just tell me what was bothering you, but you insisted you were fine and that you wanted to stay. Then she comes around, and all of your issues are suddenly resolved! You’re laughing and joking like you would any other day. All it took was for me to step out of your way for ten minutes.” You grumbled the last part, making your way into the kitchen. You opened the fridge, grabbing a water bottle and cracking the lid. You took a long drink before recapping it and setting it on the counter, just in case he pissed you off enough for you to throw it at him.

“If anything, it just gave you an excuse to be alone with him.” Jake hissed. “It’s not just about the dancing, or the karaoke, or the even the ‘funny’ passes. He looks at you like he’s waiting for me to fuck up, just so he can swoop in and finally have you all to himself. He practically undresses you with his eyes every time you walk in a room. Or maybe because it always seems like he makes you happier than I can. He dances with you, and sings with you, and buys you all of those gifts that he always just seems to know that you want.” You spun on your heels, facing him with a little bit softer of an expression than any of the previous.

“That’s what you’re worried about? You think he makes me happier than you do?” His eyes darted away from you for a moment, likely to avoid letting you know how he was really feeling. “Jesus Christ, Jake, are you blind?” He didn’t answer, causing a resurgence of annoyance in you.

“If I’m the only thing standing in the way of you being with him, go ahead. I’m not stopping you.” He snapped. “He shits on me all day at the studio, then I get to come home and watch him put his hands all over you, my girlfriend, and I’m the bad guy for being upset?” Your vision turned red, infuriated at the thought of him even thinking that. You took a step towards him, your nose practically touching his.

“If you’re so mad at him, why the fuck are you taking it out on me?” You questioned. “I told you, I would have been more than happy at home with you. You know why? Because I fucking love you, you idiot. I could say it a million times, and you wouldn’t care. Because obviously it’s all about Josh, and how I’ve been meticulously planning on using you to get to him for half a decade. Just waiting for the right time to strike, yeah?” You spat. “It doesn’t matter what I say, because no matter what, you’re always right, hmm?” You pushed your finger into his chest, really extenuating your point. “Nobody else in the entire world is allowed to have an opinion, because Jake knows it all! He’s got it all figured out!” He grabbed your wrist, forcing it down to your side and stopping you from prodding at his chest again. You were nose to nose, chests heaving with anger. You weren’t sure if he was going to tell you to get out, or if you were going to leave before he got the chance. You didn’t have a clue as to what was to come next, but you certainly weren’t expecting him to spin you around and push you against the island countertop. He let go of your wrist, grabbing a fistful of your hair instead. He pulled your head back gently, just so your ear was touching his lips.

“Did you like him singing that song for you?” He asked, his voice low and his breath tickling your skin. As angry as you were, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of arousal at your new found position. When you didn’t answer, his grip on your hair tightened. “Answer me.”

“Yeah.” You hissed, just for arguments sake. In reality, it was nothing compared to when Jake played it for you. Josh singing it had nothing on when Jake sang it, or hummed the lyrics to you. Josh had nothing on Jake, period, but you were too stubborn to stroke his ego.

“Yeah?” Jake questioned, his knuckles white against the hold on your hair. His hips were pressed into your ass, locking you against the counter indefinitely. “You’d rather go home with him?” He seethed. “Have him take your high heels off, wake up to him every morning?” Your heart was drumming against your chest. You weren’t willing to give in to him, but you also weren’t sure where he was going with his point. When you didn’t answer, he used his free hand to yank your skirt over your ass. His hand graced your exposed skin, the touch almost too gentle to fit with the current situation. After a moment of silence, he lifted his hand and brought it down forcefully, causing you to gasp at the contact. The ring that he adorned on his finger left a sharp sting long after the slap was delivered. “Fucking answer me.”

“N-no,” you stuttered, all of your confidence fleeing you. In place of it, there was a growing arousal between your legs and your tendency to submit to him was showing.

“That changed awfully fast.” He taunted. His hand still rested on your ass, but he’d moved it closer to your hip and held you in a firm grip, instead. You could feel his erection growing against you; the position alone was enough to get him going. “Color.” He barked.

“Green.” You said without hesitation. His fingers hooked into the side of your panties, his fist still anchored in your hair. He took a small step away from you, freeing your underwear from your body and letting them fall to your ankles.

“Since you don’t know how to make up your mind, I’ll do it for you.” He explained. You bit the inside of your lip, not daring to make a peep. “By the time I’m done with you, he won’t even be a thought in that pretty little head of yours.” He dipped his hand between your thighs, spreading them apart slightly. “The only word you’ll be able to say is my fucking name. M’gonna remind you why you come home to me.” His fingers ran through your cunt, getting a feel for the wetness that had already begun to pool. “That sound okay, angel?”

“Yes, sir.” You whispered, already knowing the rules to the game.

“Almost don’t want to let you cum. Haven’t been a very good girl for me, have you?” He hummed, spreading your arousal up to your clit. He swirled his finger around it for a moment, producing a whine from your throat. “So needy already. Pathetic.” He noted, applying a bit more pressure to his area of focus. You closed your eyes, losing yourself to the pleasure after hours of torture.

“M’sorry, sir.” You pleaded, knowing it was in your best interest to grovel for a while. “Promise I’ll be good for you from now on.”

“Come on, you expect me to forgive you that easily?” He chuckled. You didn’t respond, only let out a shaky breath when he removed his finger from your clit. “Gonna have to make it up to me, angel. You know that.” You heard him undo his belt buckle, pulling it from the loops on his pants. He set it on the counter cautiously, making you believe its use for the night was not over. He unzipped his zipper and freed himself from his pants in a swift motion. He tugged at your hair, silently telling you he wanted you to turn and face him. You did so, almost breathless at the sight of his face. His hand was still in your hair, pulling your head upwards slightly, making sure you couldn’t look away from him.

You wanted to break character so bad, to kiss him and tell him you were sorry, and that you loved him. You wanted to tell him everything you were too angry to communicate before, but you stayed silent. Instead, you gave an innocent bat of your eyelashes. He leaned down, likely feeling the same way, and pressed his lips to yours. It was sweet at first, but quickly turned needy and sloppy. You reached out for him, pulling him closer by the fabric of his shirt. You thought you would get in trouble for it, but in that moment, he allowed it. The small act satiated his need to feel wanted. You messed with the buttons on his shirt, trying to free him from it. After a few moments of struggle, you managed to slip it off his shoulders. He let go of you only for long enough to rid himself of it, and returned to his previous hold. He broke from the kiss, realizing he’d been far too accommodating for his liking. He raised his eyebrow, as if he expected you to know what he wanted. After a moment, you caught on, luckily just fast enough.

You sunk down to your knees, now eye level with his exposed cock. He still had his hand in your hair, holding it out of the way for you. You reached up, wrapping your hand around him before lowering your mouth to the tip and slowly bringing him into your mouth. You started slow, working yourself up to speed. He didn’t push you; as dominant as he was during sex, he was always hyper-aware of your comfortability. After a few moments, you started to hear a few curses fall from his lips. It gave you the encouragement to take him further, relaxing your jaw and your throat as you pushed your head down on him.

“Fuck, baby.” He sighed, unable to hold back his words anymore. You hummed against him, continuing your pace. Soon after, he tightened his fist in your hair, holding your head in place. He thrusted forward into your mouth, keeping a steady rhythm with his hips. You tried your best to keep yourself relaxed, making it easier for you to continue on. “Doing so good, sweetheart.” He groaned. The praise sent a shiver down your spine, your excitement for what was to come next was debilitating.

He sped his movements a bit more, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat with each re-entry. You felt tears from in the corner of your eyes, unsure how long you could keep up with him. But, you were more determined to please him than anything else, because it always meant you’d receive a fantastic reward. His head was thrown back in ecstasy, feeling too good to even look down at your face. As the tears rolled down your cheeks, you felt yourself gag, throat constricting against him.

His cock twitched in your mouth, bringing him back to reality for a moment. He pulled back, completely removing himself from you. “Should just cum in your mouth and leave you here like this.” He theorized, trying to attain his earlier tone of voice but failing. His chest was heaving with every breath, eyes glazed with lust. He wanted you just as bad as you wanted him, and he didn’t have the willpower to walk away from you, now. “You wouldn’t like that, would you?” He asked, his hand falling from your hair to your face, using his thumb to wipe away a few stray tears.

“No, sir.” You answered, finally regaining yourself a bit.

“I know, baby.” He sighed, realizing he could likely get off just by watching you looking at him that way. “Couldn’t do that to you. You know that.” You nodded, grateful he drew that conclusion. “Stand up for me.” You did as he said, raising slowly and ensuring you had your balance, not wanting to topple over. He brought you into a kiss, hands pulling at your shirt. If he knew you didn’t care, he would have ripped it off of you. He managed to free it from your upper half, pulling out of the kiss to bring it over your head. “No bra?” He inquired, fingers trailing over your now exposed torso. He brought his thumb to your hardened nipple, running the pad over it before pinching it between his fingers. You let out a gasp at the suddenness of his actions. “Such a little whore.” He quickly took his hand and swiped away any items littering the island. Your eyes widened at the action, watching as papers and books tumbled to the floor. He didn’t react, only placed his palms just below your ass, lifting you up onto the counter.

The cold countertop took you as a shock, causing you to tense for a moment. “Only for you.” You finally replied, watching him as he anchored your skirt above your hips.

“Didn’t seem that way tonight.” He muttered, forcefully shoving your legs apart. He took a step back for a minute, admiring the obscene display he’d left you in. You rolled your eyes.

“Jake-“ he cut you off with his eyes, his glare louder than any words he could speak.

“Kind of humiliating, isn’t it? When everybody at the bar thinks Josh gets to take you home, thinks he gets to see you like this?” He asked, not advancing any closer to you. You didn’t answer, just watched him. “How do you think that makes me feel? Watching you run around like a whore with my brother, begging him for attention?” Your face flushed at his words, embarrassed at the degradation.

“M’sorry, Jake.” You mumbled, not daring to move, in hopes of keeping him in good spirits.

“Are you? Or are you just saying it to get what you want?” He pried.

“I mean it.” You finally looked up to meet his eyes. He barely acknowledged your words before speaking again.

“Because you’re mine. You do know that, right?” You gave him a nod. “Nobody else gets to see you like this, ever. Nobody else gets to see how pretty you look when you’re desperate to be fucked.” He gave a small smirk, grabbing one of the chairs and pulling it over to him. He positioned it directly in front of you, taking a seat on it. You felt a sinking feeling in your stomach, having an idea about what he was planning. He leaned against the back of it, never letting his eyes leave you. “You know that, right?” He pressed.

“Yes, sir.” You affirmed.

“Show me, then.”

“W-what?” You stuttered, wanting clarification.

“Touch yourself. M’gonna watch. You’re going to show me all of the parts of you only I get to see.” He ordered. You didn’t move right away, wondering if he was serious. “Do you have a problem with that?” His tone was condescending and his gaze was burning into you.

“N-no, sir.” You shook your head.

“Good.” He raised his palm to his face, spitting on it. He lowered his hand to his cock, stroking himself as he waited for you to start. “I don’t have all day, angel.” He stated, almost sounding bored. You broke out of your shock, bracing one hand behind you to hold yourself up and lowering your other hand to your heat. You gathered your arousal, slowly running your fingers through your cunt, really giving him a show. You saw his jaw clench as he drew in a long breath, silently telling you he approved of your actions. “If you’re gonna act like a whore, you’re gonna get treated like one.” He explained, eyes laser focused on your fingers. “You love the attention so much, so I’ll give it to you. But you’ve gotta work for it, and you better not cum unless I say you can.”

“Yes, sir.” You let your fingers trail up to your clit, rubbing small circles. Your breath hitched in your throat, pleasure stemming from the sensation, but also from the sight of him touching himself. You had no idea how he could ever doubt your love for him, because you were hopelessly and utterly infatuated with him. Every movement, or word, or expression always made your heart flutter. He was perfect, and nobody in the world could ever compare to him. You applied a bit more pressure, letting your head fall back at the feeling. A quiet moan escaped your lips, hitting him with force. He closed his eyes, trying to stop himself from getting up and fucking you right then and there.

You lifted your hand that was supporting you and leaned back on your elbow, instead, giving him a better view. You brought your hand to your breast, the pad of your thumb drifting over your nipple while you touched yourself at the same time. You really wanted to give him a show, part of it being because it was a show of an apology, and the other part being quite selfish. You knew that the faster you gave him what he wanted, the more likely he was to get you off. Your eyes drifted back to him, settling on his face and soaking up every bit of his expression. He had a scowl, and his jaw was hard set. His eyes were almost feral looking, and he was watching you intently. His hand was wrapped around himself, slowly but steadily moving. It was just enough to get a bit of relief. You could tell he wanted to save his stamina for when he finally decided to fuck you.

“Tell me what you’re thinking about.” He ordered.

“You, Jake.” You sighed, another groan escaping your mouth. His breath caught in his throat at the sound of you saying his name like that.

“Mhm,” he made a noise of confirmation “You better be.”

“I am,” you promised, catching his gaze. “Only you.” Your steady pace mixed with you being incredibly turned on was causing a knot to form in the pit of your stomach. He knew you well enough to pick up on it by your expression alone.

“Don’t.” He warned. You gave him a pleading look, hoping he’d have a bit of mercy on you. In response, he only shook his head. You let out a whine, slowing your movements to hold on a little longer. You felt the pressure ease, relief crossing your face. “So you can listen,” he noted. “Good job, baby.” The praise was heavenly, washing over you with a warm embrace. You knew he couldn’t keep up with the current situation for much longer; he was eager to get his hands on you again. He didn’t have to say it aloud for you to know that. You took a break from your clit, slipping your hand down a bit further.

You slipped your middle and ring finger inside you, making sure to keep your eyes on him, wanting to see his reaction. You gave him an innocent smile, setting him on fire. You slowly pumped the digit into yourself, clamping down on your bottom lip with your teeth and letting out a sigh of pleasure. You couldn’t keep your eyes on him for very long, equating it to torture in your mind. You only had to work at yourself for a moment, riling him up faster by the second. “God, I wish it was you touching me, instead, Jake.” You whined, eyelids fluttering closed for a second.

It was almost like you flipped a switch; suddenly, the sultry looks and lust-filled noises drove him over the edge. He stood, almost knocking the chair over as he did so, and advanced towards you. His hand found the back of your neck, pulling you up to meet his lips. There was no gentle nature to be found, just volatile desire that you couldn’t quite wrap your head around. Once he’d fulfilled his need to kiss you, both of his hands grabbed you by the hips and roughly brought you to the edge of the island. He grabbed your wrist, abruptly moving your hand to your side. He replaced it with his own, fingers gathering your arousal and pushing inside you. He let his thumb slide up to your bundle of nerves, brushing it over the sensitive area every time he pumped his fingers into you. You were over the moon at the new found contact, although abrupt. You were trying to wrap your head around the rapid change while welcoming it at the same time.

“F-fuck, Jake.” You moaned, letting the weight of your head fall back into his hand.

“That’s better, isn’t it?” He whispered, trying to cover his own tone of neediness. He didn’t need a verbal answer to his question; your expression was more than enough. As much as he was dominant, he was also a giver. Knowing he was making you feel good was more than enough to satisfy him. Watching you was great, but it was nothing compared to him being the reason behind your pleasure. His fingers curled upwards ever so slightly, hitting that spot inside you he knew all too well. “How fast can you cum for me, angel?”

“I-i don’t..” you trailed off, only focused on the feeling of his hands working magic on you.

“You don’t what?” He asked. You could hear the smirk in his voice without even looking at him. “Make it quick, before I change my mind.” He leaned down, making you lean back, too. He pulled one of your nipples into his mouth, gently grazing his teeth over it. You hated to admit that he already had you teetering on the edge. After years of practice, he knew you well enough to know exactly what to do. An expert of sorts, if you had to label it. You reached a hand out, grabbing on to his bicep for support while your other one was anchored on the countertop. You had already pushed yourself to the edge once, and it wasn’t hard for him to get you back there.

“Jake, m’gonna cum.” You announced. His pace didn’t change, only encouraging you further. It was embarrassing at how fast he could bring you to an orgasm.

“That’s it, baby. Come on.” His voice was low, only audible due to how close he was to you. He said it like he needed it, too. It only took the small push from him to send you into your first orgasm. Your legs were shaking, your arm barely holding you up. You barely managed his name through the mess of vulgar noises that came from your mouth. Instead of coaxing you through your orgasm, his movements never tapered. By the time you were coming down from the high, the overstimulation had already started to take over.

“Jake!” You gasped, unable to free yourself from his grip.

“You’re fine.” He said, a hint of venom still in his tone. Your eyes were screwed shut, the unpleasant feeling starting to drive you insane. He noticed the look of discomfort on your face, questioning himself for a moment. “Color.” He whispered, the act completely out the window. His thumb was still working over your clit, just with less pressure.

“Green.” You hissed, knowing deep down that you could handle it. You knew the reward after was worth the moment of discomfort. He wasn’t sure if he believed you, so he gave you another chance to speak up. “Green.” You said again, noticing he was holding back a bit. At the assurance, he continued working at you. The feeling was intense, but you coached yourself through it, and eventually, the knot in your belly tightened once more, although not fully covering the uncomfortable sensation the movements were producing. When your next orgasm tore through you, it was powerful enough to make you lose the strength in your arms. If not for Jake holding you up, you would have fallen backwards. When you relaxed against him, he slowly withdrew his hand from you. Your chest was heaving, sweat glistening on you, and your face was flushed. He took in the sight, letting the picture burn a memory in his brain.

He only let you recover for a moment before ridding himself of his pants completely and sinking to his knees. You let out a groan, barely back to earth from his previous actions. His eyes looked up to you, wordlessly checking to see if you were ready to keep going. He didn’t speak again, but placed a few kisses on the inside of your thighs. Just when you relaxed into him, thinking maybe he’d gotten his fill of being an asshole, he let his teeth sink into the sensitive skin. You jumped slightly at the sudden feeling, not expecting it. He continued on, barely aware of your reaction, and sucked a few marks into you. By the time he’d worked himself up to your cunt, you had surpassed your overstimulation, and quickly became eager for him to continue on.

“You want it, don’t you?” He teased, mouth only inches away from your heat.

“Yeah,” you breathed.

“How bad?” His eyes flickered up to your face again. Your lips turned downward, almost into a frown.

“You want me to beg for you?” You questioned, not realizing how challenging your tone sounded. His eyes turned stony, eyebrows furrowing slightly.

“Thought you said you wanted me, angel?” He pulled back slightly. You felt your stomach sink, hoping you hadn’t made too much of a mistake.

“I do, Jake. I’m sorry.” You rushed out.

“Then fucking tell me how bad you want it.” His scowl had returned, his order clearly stating that he wasn’t in the mood for any argument. You realized it was less about dominance, and more about him needing to hear the words, needing to feel needed. You reached down, placing your hand on his cheek and letting your thumb run over the soft skin.

“So bad, Jake. I need you.” You whispered. Involuntarily, he leaned into the touch. You could feel his rigidness soften, almost immediately calmed by the feeling of your hand on him. “Please.” You gave him a look of desire, softening your features. “I want it so bad, I’ll do anything. Only you can make me feel this good.” That seemed to be exactly what he needed to hear. He didn’t make you work any harder for it; before you were even finished your sentence, his mouth was on you. You let your fingers tangle in his hair, holding on to him while his tongue ran through you. You let out a sigh of pleasure when he focused on your clit. His fingers sunk into your skin, holding you as if he was scared you were going to get away, sure to leave marks in the morning. He was working at you as if he starved, cautious as to not miss out on a second of the experience.

You were unable to contain any of your moans, giving him exactly what he wanted to hear from you. You’re tugged at the roots of his hair, another way of letting him know how good he was making you feel. He pulled back from you for a moment, moving his thumb in place of his tongue. “Does that feel good, baby?”

“So good, Jake.” You struggled to get the words out, too caught up in the moment.

“Don’t be shy. I wanna hear all of those pretty noises.” He ordered. He didn’t let you respond, already having his tongue take over again. He slipped his index and middle finger back inside you, adding the extra bit of stimulation for you. He was determined to fulfil his earlier promise; he wanted you so fucked out that he was the only thing you could think of. Little to his knowledge, he didn’t have to do much for that to be true. He was always at the front of your mind, wiggling his way into every thought and action. This part was just a bonus for you.

In retaliation to his statement, you decided to up your game a bit; if he wanted to hear noises, you were more than willing to give it to him. The moans and curses you let out were pornographic, sure to be heard by the neighbours if they listened hard enough.

You could tell he was enjoying himself, too, humming against you and taking in sharp breaths when a sound he particularly liked was heard.

His fingers curled upwards in just the right way, causing you to give an involuntary tug on his his hair. He only used it at motivation, ensuring to repeat the same action with each movement. His skills at guitar had paid off fantastically for you in the bedroom. “Fuck,” you groaned, feeling the familiar pressure build once more. “God, please don’t stop, Jake. Feels so good.” You whined, letting your head fall back in ecstasy. He took the praise to heart, making sure to keep his movements steady. He was focusing on keeping his hand and tongue at the same speed, wanting to allow you to get the most of the pleasure. It didn’t take much longer for you to come undone, gripping at his hair and uttering curses. He only eased up when you started to come down, taking the opportunity to get a good look at you. Your eyeliner was beginning to run, and your lipstick was smudged. Your hair was messy and your eyelids were heavy as you looked down to meet his gaze. He had to admire your beauty even in the disarray. He thought you were the most beautiful thing that ever walked the earth.

He removed his fingers, standing in an instant. He took hold of your hips again, pulling you as close to the edge of the table as he could. Your head was still spinning as he used his hand to line himself up with your entrance. He had no more willpower to wait any longer. You both let out a sigh of relief when he pushed himself inside of you, the feeling intensified by the lingering sensitivity of your last orgasm. The position was a bit awkward, making it hard for him to move, but it didn’t bother either of you very much. The intimacy was what you craved, and it was giving you just that. He brought one of his hands to your face, letting his thumb trail over your bottom lip. You parted your lips, pulling the digit into your mouth and lightly suctioning your cheeks around it. He let out a long exhale through his nose, the tail end of it sounding more like a growl produced from his chest. He slowly moved his hips, rocking into you agonizingly slow. You opted to just enjoy it while it lasted, knowing the gentle nature would be out the window soon.

He pulled his thumb from your mouth, a small pop sounding as he did so. His hand drifted towards your neck, fingers ghosting over your skin. His thrusts didn’t speed, but did get more forceful. You couldn’t help but let out a gasp as the tip of his cock brushed your cervix, sending a jolt of pleasurable pain through you. “Just like that, baby?” He asked, eyes boring into you. His fingers tightened slightly on your neck, leaving you to believe his concerned inquiry was a bit misleading. “Does that feel good?” You hooked your leg around his waist, drawing him even closer. It gave him the answer he was looking for, although nonverbal. “Such a dirty little whore.” He hummed, clearly pleased by your action. “Is this all you wanted? To get fucked?” His eyes scanned your face, the flame still dancing in his pupils. “Didn’t matter whose bed you were in, as long as there was a cock inside you?” His fingers tightened again, finally enough pressure to restrict the blood flow. “Or did want to go home with him?”

He knew you were unable to answer; he was talking to himself, and taunting you in the process. He knew the minute he took his hand away from your neck, you’d be talking back, and he wasn’t particularly fond of that idea. He leaned in, lips hovering over your ear as he fucked into you. He knew he’d have to release his hold on you soon; he may have been willing to degrade you, a few slaps or spankings, but never seriously harm you. He didn’t want you to fear he would, either. “You think he’d fuck you like this? Make you feel this good?” He whispered, breath hot and tone gravelly. He clamped down on your neck tighter once more, completely restricting any blood or airflow. He felt you let out a pointless, choked gasp, not getting anything from it. He bit down on your earlobe, one final move before he loosened his hand. You let in a long, desperate breath, filling your lungs as much as you could. You coughed, sputtering for a moment at the sudden burst of oxygen. He let his fingers gently massage the area he’d just assaulted, wanting you to know without breaking character that he was, in fact, just acting. His head was still down by your ear, scared if he looked up he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from cumming.

You were agitated from his words, feeling the bratty part of you start to surface once more. If he was so willing to talk down on you, you weren’t afraid to give it back. You hadn’t fully thought out the whole thing, only depending on your bruised feelings for clarity. “Don’t be so cocky. You call this fucking?” You challenged, voice was still raspy from his hand around your throat. He stiffened, pulling back from you as if you’d burned him.

“What did you say?” His hips stopped, too. His expression was feral, and his body tense.

“What, you can dish it out, but you can’t take it?” A smirk was playing on your lips. “If you’re not going to do it right, I can go call-“ your sentence was cut short by his palm retracting from your throat and colliding with your cheek, throwing your head to the side. It caught you completely off guard; your train of thought disappearing and his body language now anything but loving. Admittedly, he’d hit you a bit harder than intended, but he was in no state of mind to cater to you. Without so much as an utter of concern, he pulled out of you roughly grabbed your hips, yanking you off the table and onto your feet.

You didn’t have time to process the change before he spun you around. His hand found your hair and he forced your upper half down onto the countertop. He wasn’t gentle with his touch, shoving your face into the table until your cheek was squished against the wood. He took in the sight, your skirt still pushed up to your bellybutton. In a rash decision reliant on emotion, he grabbed a fistful of the bunched up fabric and gave a hard pull, busting it at the seams and ripping it from your body. He could buy you another to make up for it, he decided. Now less concerned about the sex, and more worried about your favourite skirt, you opened your mouth to protest. “Jake-“

“Shut the fuck up.” Your time for talking was over; you’d pushed him just a bit too far. He let the now torn clothing fall to the floor, grabbing his belt from beside you. He maneuvered it so it was folded in half, all whilst still holding you to the table. “You think he could do a better job?” He seethed, running the cold leather across your bare ass. When you didn’t respond, he lifted the belt and brought it down with force, causing a sharp sound and a lasting sting. “Do you really think anybody could?” His hand in your hair tightened, driving your cheek even harder into the table. He had no care for your comfortability, now. “I should just leave you here, make you get yourself off, instead, since I’m not doing it right. Would you like that?”

“N-no,” you squeaked, mentally preparing for another blow. Just as you expected, another searing sensation spread across your backside, causing you to jump.

“If you want him so bad, then go. But don’t think for a second he can give you half of what I can.” You could hear the sneer in his voice. “Do you understand me?” You weren’t sure if he wanted you to answer, or if it was rhetorical. When the belt flashed across your skin the third time, it was made clear he wanted a verbal confirmation. “I said, do you understand me?”

“Y-yes, sir.” Tears were spilling onto your cheeks, teeth grinding at the pain from the leather. But, you had pushed him, and you were more than aware of the consequences when you misbehaved.

“Don’t you ever speak to me like that again.” His tone dropped, less authority and more finality. You heard the belt fall to the floor, followed immediately by him lining himself up with you. There was no adjustment period before he pushed himself into you again, taking no mercy with the power behind his hips. You let out a yelp when he slammed into your cervix, but he was in no hurry to ask if you were okay. You had no time to recover before he repeated the same action.

His hips were moving at a brutal pace, all of the anger from the night being let out at once and building up to a dramatic climax. He was still holding your hair, never easing up on the weight of his hand holding you down. His other hand was holding your hip, keeping you in place while he fucked you. There was no ability to keep yourself quiet; the sounds falling from your lips were obscene, pleasure bordering pain creating a whole new feeling. He pulled your hips back a bit, giving more space between your legs and the edge of the table. He slipped his hand around to the front of you, fingers finding your clit with expert precision.

“How’s this? Good enough for you?” He growled. You couldn’t find the words to respond, eyes squeezed shut as all of the stimulation acted together to bring you to the brink of insanity. His finger danced over your already sensitive bundle of nerves, coaxing another orgasm out of you almost effortlessly. He was almost smiling at the noises you were making, arrogant enough to know how good he was making you feel.

“F-fuck, Jake,” you managed out, some form of confirmation that you heard his words.

“What’s wrong?” He tormented, voice wavering slightly at his rapid movements. “You asked for it, now you can’t handle it?” He showed no signs of slowing down or easing up; he was determined to prove a point, now, and he wasn’t backing down. He heard a familiar moan fall from your lips, your walls tightening against him slightly as you did so. He knew you were close, and it was only encouraging him further. Within a few seconds, you were caught up in another orgasm, all of your muscles tense and your throat coarse from crying out his name. You couldn’t allow yourself to relax as you came down, his hips nor his fingers letting up.

“Jake, please, I can’t.” You pleaded.

“You can, and you will.” He dismissed you, fully aware of the state you were in. He could see the tears staining your skin, your mascara fully running down your face. Your cheeks were red, burning with heat, and sweat glistening on your forehead. “Color.”

“Green, fuck!” You expelled, frustrated with your own unwillingness to give in. Every nerve in your body was on fire, begging you to stop, or take a break, but you were still enjoying yourself. You knew he was, too, and that was most of your motivation. He continued as if there was no question asked in the first place, never easing up on your clit, either. You were on the brink of screams, desperately trying to contain the moans ripping from your chest.

“You gonna give me another one, angel?” He asked, venom still present in his tone. You knew he wasn’t being so generous with orgasms for your sake, it was solely a personal agenda for him to prove a point. You were completely unwilling to cum for him again, but his fingers were forcing your body to betray you. He knew it, too, only allowing the cockiness to grow. “You ready to admit it, now? You want to tell me the truth?” He hissed, eyes never leaving your face. Before you could reply, the pressure in your belly peaked once more. He’d successfully forced another orgasm from you, letting the pride settle in his bones. Before you fully came down, he was already lifting your upper body off of the table so you were standing. He was aware of your lack of strength, assuring he was holding you tight enough so you wouldn’t fall over.

He pulled out of you, still supporting you with his arm, and turned you around. You were exhausted, completely at his disposal. You weren’t the least but worried, knowing he would take care of you; if you said the word, he’d stop immediately. “Arms around me.” He told you, a little gentler than his earlier orders. You obeyed, snaking your arms around his neck. His hands fell to your ass, lifting you up in one swift motion. You wrapped your legs around him, almost as if it were muscle memory. He carried you over to the wall, pressing your back into it. As much as he enjoyed the accessibility of the last position, the simplicity of doing whatever he pleased to you, he wanted to see your face. He kept one hand firm on your ass, holding you up, and guided himself back inside you with his other. The position change had given you a minute to calm down, just as he was hoping it would. He rested there for a moment, not making any further advances.

“Look at me.” He snapped. You lifted your eyes, barely keeping them open, and met his gaze. His expression was hard, but no longer malicious. He couldn’t find it in himself to stay angry with you; the sight of your face so close to his was enough to immediately soften his heart. “I want to hear you say it, angel.” He whispered, stare burning into you. “Tell me I’m the only one who can make you feel like this.”

“You are, Jake.” You breathed, unable to lie about it and risk any more punishment. “Only you can make me feel this good. Nobody could replace you.” Your voice was quiet, all of your energy completely drained. But, you were speaking from the heart, and he could tell. He leaned in, resting his forehead on yours. Slowly, he started rocking his hips into you again. The feeling was so much different, now. His movements careful, filled with love. He’d proved his point beyond intention, and he was well aware of it. All of the anger was gone, and he just wanted to be close to you, now.

“You’re mine, baby. You know that.” He hummed. “Nobody else even gets to think about you, like this.”

“M’yours, Jake. All yours.” You promised, hoping he’d lean forward just enough so you could kiss him. “I don’t want anyone else.” Your fight was gone, now, not as if there was a lot there in the first place. Your back talk seemed to hurt him a little more than intended, and all you wanted was to make up for it.

“I know, honey.” He assured you. “Me, too.” His sincerity was staggering, the softness of those two words were the most profound vulnerability he’d ever shown during sex. You felt like you were seeing right through him. “Gonna take care of you, now. Okay?” You managed a nod, filled with relief when he leaned forward to connect his mouth with yours. You tangled your fingers in the hair at the base of his head, holding him to you. You didn’t want him to pull back, savouring the loving gesture as if your life depended on it. The sensation of him fucking into you so carefully while he was kissing you was more euphoric than anything else you’d felt that night. Not often did you get slow sex with Jake, and it was just as phenomenal, if not more. Something about the emotion, the complete transparency, was unmatched.

“I love you,” you mumbled against his lips, causing his fingers to tighten on you. He pulled back slightly, just enough space between your mouths to speak.

“Fuck, y/n, say it again.” He ordered, but it sounded more like a plea.

“I love you, Jake. So much.” You groaned, losing yourself to the feeling of him inside you. You were sure there was nothing that could feel better than that.

“I love you, y/n.” He closed his eyes, jaw clenching as he rode through the blissful proclamation. You could tell he was close, and you were eager for him to get there. “God, you feel so good.” You let your hand come up to his cheek, holding his face while your thumb drifted over the soft skin. “Can you cum for me one more time?” You nodded as best you could with his forehead against yours.

“Just kiss me, please.” He didn’t need to be asked twice, his lips were on yours again in an instant. You kissed him with a hunger that could only be satisfied by him. He picked up his pace a bit, silently begging you to cum, just so he could, too. He had been holding himself back for long enough that it had started to become painful. He pulled you down on him every time he thrusted, just for a little more impact. That was enough for you; with the added pressure, he reached the spot inside you that only he could. Your legs tightened around him and your fingers grasped at him, letting him know you were there again. He pulled back, wanting the full view this time. Your head fell backwards against the wall, eyes closed in pleasure. You breathed his name between moans, finding it impossible to think of anything but him as your final orgasm washed over you.

At the sound of his name spoken so beautifully, and the sight of your blissful expression, he couldn’t help but lose himself to the feeling, too. He pulled you down on him one last time, holding you there as he spilled his release into you. He slumped over, pressing you further into the wall and letting his head rest in the crook of your neck. He was breathless, completely overpowered by euphoria. He didn’t withdraw right away, wanting to savour the moment of intimacy with you. Nothing but heavy breathing sounded through the kitchen, both of you chest to chest and feeling your heartbeats against each other. He turned his head inwards towards your neck, placing a few kisses into it. He left a few light marks, just as a final reminder of the entire night.

“You okay?” He asked, still resting his head on your shoulder.

“Yeah,” you sighed. “Are you?”

“Yeah.” He murmured. “I’m so sorry.”

“Me, too.” He finally pulled back from you, placing a kiss to your forehead.

“Bath?” He asked. You nodded, giving him a small smile. He carried you to the bathroom carefully, not pulling out of you yet in avoidance of a mess. Once you were in the bathroom, he withdrew and let you get cleaned up. He flicked on the faucet for the bathtub, letting the warm water run before closing the drain stopper. He grabbed your package of makeup wipes pulling a few out and setting it back on the counter. “C’mere.” He whispered. You turned towards him, leaning into his hand reaching for you. He gently wiped at the smudged makeup, cleaning you up as best he could. He discarded the dirty wipes in the trash and placed a kiss on your lips.

By the time he finished, the bathtub was full and more than ready for the both of you. He flipped off the faucet, helping you in first. As you settled in, he couldn’t help but notice the marks littering your thighs and ass. He felt a sinking feeling of regret, checking your face for where he’d slapped you. It was red, slightly irritated, but seemed as though it would fade away soon. There was a small welt on your cheek from where his ring sat on his finger. He got in, too, settling behind you and pulling you into him. The warm water soothed your aching muscles, allowing you to fully relax into his hold. With your back pressed against him, you were fully surrounded in comfort. You rested your head against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around you. After a moment, he lifted his hand to your cheek, fingers gently running over the inflamed area.

“I’m sorry, baby.” He said, lips turned down into a frown. “I shouldn’t have been so rough with you.”

“I’m okay.” You promised, turning your head and placing a kiss to his thumb. “Let’s just… never do that again. The sex was great, but I don’t like fighting with you. I also really didn’t like whatever we were doing at the bar… it was gross and childish.”

“I agree. No girl in the world deserve the time of day, especially when I have you to come home to. I started the whole thing. I know you and Josh would never do that to me. You guys really weren’t doing anything out of the ordinary, I was just in a shitty mood.”

“Yeah, but I knew you were upset. I shouldn’t have pushed you. I was being an asshole, and I really shouldn’t have let him sing that song. I knew it was a bad idea when I saw it come up on the screen.”

“You didn’t pick it?” He asked, fingers still caressing the spot on your face where he’d slapped you.

“No, of course not, Jake. I was mad at you, but I’d never go that far.” His stomach sank.

“I’m sorry I danced with her. I knew it would hurt you, and it was wrong. I shouldn’t have assumed you would do that, either.”

“That did hurt me, a lot.” You admitted, feeling no need to lie about it. “You’ve never really been jealous before. Where the hell did that come from?”

“I don’t know.” He was honest. “I was mad at Josh all day, and when I saw you guys being so nice to each other and dancing to those songs, especially while I was so upset…I guess it just felt like he made you shine a little brighter than I did, tonight. I feel like I dim your light, sometimes.” He mumbled the last part, almost afraid to admit it out loud. You felt your heart break at his words.

“Jake, Josh is my best friend. My brother. Of course I have fun with him, but that’s all it is. Yeah, I love him, but I’ve never once felt that kind of love for him. I’m in love with you. You don’t have to make me shine all of the time, because you complete me. You can’t always make me shine brighter, especially when you’re the one who ignited the flame in the first place.” He had one arm snaked under yours, lazily strewn across your torso just under your chest. He used that arm to pull you closer to him, still letting his fingers dance over your cheek.

“I love you.” He sighed. “I never want to do that again, either. It was so stupid. I never want to hurt you like that again.” He placed a kiss to the top of your head. “I’ll never be able to say I’m sorry enough to make up for it.”

“I’m sorry, too. If me being so close with Josh makes you feel that way, I can take a step back. You’re the most important person to me, no matter what.”

“No, baby. Never bothered me before, I guess I just felt a bit forgotten about. Got in my own head, and instead of talking to you about it, I tried to make you feel the same way. Next time, I promise I’ll talk to you. You’re my most important person, too. Seeing that look on your face when you left the bar made me realize how easy I could lose you, and I never want that to happen.”

“Guess we learned our lesson, then, ‘cause I really don’t want to lose you, either.” You laced your fingers through his, running your thumb over the back of his hand.

“The sex was fantastic, though.” He chuckled after a moment of silence. “I hope I didn’t hurt you too bad. I got a little to caught up in the moment.”

“I’m okay,” you laughed. “Maybe a bit sore, but it was my own fault. Shouldn’t have talked back like that.”

“You were being bratty, weren’t you?” He pondered back to the earlier scene in the kitchen.

“Yeah, but I didn’t mean it. Just wanted to get under your skin.” You giggled, sinking a bit lower into the water.

“I know, beautiful. You did a good job at it, I’ll give you that.”

“Yeah, my ass knows it, too.” You grumbled. He laughed, leaning down and peppering a few kisses over your shoulders. You melted into the touch, happy to have things back to normal.

“Hey, y/n?” He asked, lips still drifting over your skin.

“Hmm?” You hummed, eyes closed in peacefulness.

“I don’t want you to stop dancing with Josh. But I do think that maybe I wouldn’t mind dancing with you, too, if that’s okay.” He whispered. A smile broke onto your lips at his words.

“That’s more than okay, Jake.” He dropped his other arm, wrapping it around you, too. He pulled you into a hug, love completely surrounding you, now. “I love you.”

“I love you, angel. God, I’ll dance with you every day for the rest of my life if it means I get to have you like this.” He sighed. “I was stupid for not wanting to, before. I can sacrifice a little embarrassment to get a smile on that pretty face of yours.” You couldn’t help but laugh again.

“Don’t have to do that to make me smile, baby. You know that. You can have me like this for the rest of your life even if you don’t dance with me.”

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t mind it. I’d do anything to make you happy.” You almost rolled your eyes at the statement. He said it as if he didn’t do that already.

“You already give me the world, Jacob. What more could you do to make me happy?”

“I’ll stop when I can give you the universe, instead of just the world.” You could hear the smile in his voice. “I’ll buy you a new skirt and take you out tomorrow night, make up for everything. Wear your best shoes, cause you won’t be able to get away from the dance floor.” A smile grew on your lips, too.

“Can’t wait.” And you meant it. Not just for the dancing, or a night out, or the promise of a replacement skirt for the one he’d destroyed. You couldn’t wait simply because you were excited to be with him. You were certain you could live the rest of your life deprived of all modern comfort, but if Jake was by your side, you’d be the happiest person to have ever lived.

[gazsluckyhat]

Sarah's House

Four - Hawaiian Pizza *TW*

Masterlist

Hi guys! This chapter is kinda dark, Suicide ideation is listed heavily towards this end, the story is kinda dark anyway, but just heads up. Take care of yourself.

Also, I'm not very nice in this chapter, sorry in advance.

also disregard any spelling errors, fell sick today and am writing this wrapped up like a Christmas gift.- Bunny

Price knew he shouldn't take the mission. The outcome seemed obvious, or so he thought. Until he wasn't anymore.

or

Like calls to like. Or something of the sort.

  They all stand there, frozen. Eyes flying to Price, hoping he has the right words. But he doesn't. Who would? This isn't something you just explain calmly to someone, let alone a parent. Instead he motions to the hall, inviting him to follow. The boys stay back, a guarding presence as the girl sleeps. The sounds of machine beeps and call lights dull the conversation, doctors and nurses flooding by. Her father leans agaisnt a wall, focus on the captain. The captain whos struggling to find the words. So he decides not to explain. Keep him hidden from the awful bad things. Tell him the more simpler ones, if you can even call them that.

"You shouldn't have to be in this position." He looks at the older man. "This is awful and one of the worst things I've ever seen. Which is why I've decided not to tell you everything." He crosses his arms over his chest. Letting the older man process.

"What? I'm her father, you have to tell me so I can help her." He states, pushing off the wall. Price is putting his hands up, slightly pushing him back.

"Calm down, let me talk. Your daughter is one of the most strong willed and bravest soldiers I've ever met. There are grown men twice her size that wouldn't of survived what she has. Even through the worst of it she has fought, Sargent MacTavish in there, with those marks? Sarah gave them to him. Attacked him when we found her. She was starving and frail and still had that fight in her. Your girl is nothing short of a hero." There's tears in both their eyes. But Price notes the pride in her fathers, smiles a little at that. "But, she has seen the worst that humanity offers. I refuse to tell you because you do not deserve it. You deserve to see her as she is, you're beautiful and brilliant daughter. Physically you can see some of what they did. But a lot of it was mental. She refuses to touch any sort of water, offered her a shower and she was adamant on her 'no'. She doesn't trust any one. Took us some trouble to even let us help her. She's mute, but can speak. It takes a lot of effort on her part so I thinks its more of a 'can't' than a 'don't want to'. She's gonna require a lot of therapy and doctors appointments. It's gonna be the most stressful, scary, and angering thing you'll do." Her father is really crying now. Hands over his eyes and chest heaving.

"She's gonna hate you, hate the world even. You're gonna feel like you're ready to give up, can't do it anymore. But you have to. She can't be on her own right now. I believe she's still in shock, actually. The trauma that she went through is gonna play with her mind, cause her to think things that could never be more false. But you will be there. Hold her and tell her you love her, that she's okay and safe, yea'? She needs to have someone be that rock for her, because she's the ocean." Price hugged him after that, letting the man break into his shoulders. Price couldn't fathom being in his position. What he'd do if it was his daughter. He couldn't think about it. When he'd stepped back the man wiped his eyes.

"Thank you, I owe you my life. You don't know what this means to me. She's all I have left. My baby girl." He's looking at her door. Green eyes wide. Her green eyes, Price notes. "Have you done it before? Rehabilitated someone?" Price shakes his head.

"Not like that. I took care of my father, he was sick throughout my childhood. Struggled with his illness. Blamed everyone, learned how to help him. When he passed I enlisted." It was nothing. Just part of his life.

"She did too. Her mom and I divorced when she was a teenager. When she turned fifteen her mom found out she had cancer. I left soon after. She fought for years though, Sarah always by her side. Took her right after Sarah's twenty-first birthday. Always told her she'd make the best nurse." Then he's looking away again. Price can tell he's thinking about something. The whole thing was a lot to process. So much information to understand in a small amount of time.

"Would you take her?" It's asked in a solid manner. Price not expecting it at all. His back stiffening.

"What?" He must have misheard him.

"She seems to trust your team. Taken to them really. You have experience with something like this, you're a solider as well. I have no idea what I'm doing. I left when my ex-wife got sick. I know what kinda person it makes me, trust me I know. I think one of the reasons I left when I did was because I couldn't handle it. I'm not wired like she is. I love her so much it hurts but I don't think I'm the right person to help her and I refuse to put her in a facility. I'd even pay you on top of your reward." Price had forgotten about the money, decides he doesn't even want it anymore.

"You want me to take in your daughter?" The man nods.

"I understand what it sounds like. But we come from a small town in southern America, people talk. Everyone knows everyone as well, I'm afraid she won't be able to heal right, there, either. And I want her to heal and prosper. She deserves so much, and I don't think I can help her get there. It's breaking my heart. Knowing she's hurting like she is and I can't do anything." Price listens, the idea rolling in his head. The attachment clear between the team and the soldier. But would it turn into something else? Along the feelings of protectiveness and the need to help her was a nudging feeling of something else. Something she did not need right now. Wasn't even appropriate at all. But the longing, the need to touch her lips was slowly creeping in. Could he help her and push it down? The look her father was giving her pulled at his heart strings. He could and he would. Because if he didn't she would be lost.  So he nods, agrees because what else is there to do?

"Keep the money." He says pushing the check away. Her father shakes his head. Insisting he take it. "Fine. But I'm not spending it. I'll open her a account and put it in there." The man smiles, more sure that his daughter will be well cared for.

"Then I'll put money in it every month she's here, use it for her care?" Price nods, knowing that if she stays she'll want for nothing. The boys are too adopting and pretty things catch their eye often. Telling her will be the hard part though, he decides when they go to open her door. Thankfully she's still sleeping, her tiny body curled around Johnny's arm, he too asleep.

 Sarah wakes to the soft murmur of voices, her father is one. But the other two she has to open her eyes to see. Price and Gaz. Both talking with her father like they were old friends. Her chest warmed up a little bit, knowing that even though the world was ending her father could still laugh. Though she guesses he'd always been like that. Even when she was little, always found someone to talk to. About anything really. She'd been stuck in a store while he chatted about the rare blue car that was parked two cars away, and the owner just so happened to be there to chat. Or when he took her shopping for her first bra, her mom not feeling well, and he stood with another dad talking about the weather. Pink training bra in hand. Mortifying. But it's what she loved about him and she'd missed it she realized. Miss just listening to him speak. His presence. So she closes her eyes again and just listens. She doesn't know for how long, until she cant ignore the urge in her bladder at least.

"Good morning Rabbit." So used to the other accents her father's southern American drawl sounds funny. She smiles at him, though her brain is screaming. Hair on the back of her neck rising. She's not sure why, she's clearly safe. The soldiers who saved her, known only by nicknames, are in the corner. Well two of them anyway. She pushes herself up with her hands, the men standing up.

"Where you going? Everything okay?" It's the younger one, Gaz she believes his name is. He's reaching his hand out. She studies it for a second, listening to the voice in her head. It's screaming, loudly. This isn't real, it says. You'll wake up in a second and the others will be leaning over you, touching you like always. Her face falls, because it makes sense to her. The soldiers, her saviors, are all beautiful, even the masked one. And scientifically faces in dreams are morphed from people you know, the masked one could just be without a face. Right? They notice it immediately. Her eyes glazing over and the lost look falling onto her face. She steps back, away from them, closer to the bathroom. Her father stands, not sure what's going on.

"Cap?" Gaz calls lowly to the man behind him.

"Yea' I see it." Then he's right next to him. "Sarah, sweetheart, can you hear me?" She's slowly backing up, the bathroom door cracked open and seemingly inviting her in. Price moves closer, Gaz following suit, hoping to box her in and grab her before she loses it. It's gonna happen regardless of what they want. They're steps away when she darts around and into the bathroom, crying loudly. Slamming it shut they hear her lock it, exactly what they didn't want. Price is jiggingly the lock seeing if he can force it open.

"Can you pick it, Gaz?" The younger man on his knees looking at it.

"What just happened?" Her father is watching, confused as hell.

"Kinda normal for people with PTSD, flashback I'm assuming." Gaz spoke as he tried to separate the locks. "No dice Capin'." Thankfully Ghost and Johnny walk through the door with lunch at that moment. Eyes falling to the pair in a, well, quite a position. Gaz who's eye level with the Captains , um, nether regions tries to stand.

"Now 'on't tell me 've missed the fun?" Ghost smacks Johnny over the back of the head.

"Sarah is in here and the door is locked, one of you go get a doctor." Ghost sends Johnny a stare that says 'fix it' and Johnny is out the door in seconds. Lunch set on the small table, Ghost is walking towards them.

"What happened?" She was asleep when they left, hoping to surprise her with real food.

"Dunno. She woke up, stood up and seemed fine. Then just like that she was gone. Her eyes went all glassy." Ghost's seen it before. Seen it plenty actually.

"Flower? Hey, can ya' open the door? Wanna check on you." No reply. Nothing. The handle stays locked. "She's not gonna let us in. Not if she's lost somewhere in her head" Suddenly there's a flurry of people rushing into the room. Nurses and doctors, even a janitor. They're pushing the three men out of the way, trying to shut the door in their faces, which Ghost stops with a mud covered boot. The door is off it's hinges in minutes, then the sound of screaming echoes through the room. Before they can get to her she's being manhandled between two male nurses, who bully her onto the bed, pinning her wrist down while she screams and fights. Teeth gnashing at the faces. Ghost and Price are pushing their way forward, elbows connecting with noses. Price is smacking the man on the left, pulling him off of her and into Johnny's waiting arms, which drop him on accident. Johnny kicking him out the door immediately. Ghost was a different story, hands wrapping around the mans collar yanking him up to his height.

"Like bullying little girls, huh? I'll show you." And the smaller man is in the hall easily, Ghost not even breaking a sweat.  The doctor is on them in seconds, threating to have them arrested. Price laughing in his face, expressing just how much that meant to him. (zero. It meant zero to him actually) The girl is losing it, Gaz and Johnny doing what they can to calm her, her father on the phone with someone in charge. It's not until she finds the dropped syringe and is holding it to her neck that anyone shuts up. She's shaking. Having moved into the corner away from everyone. Gaz on his knees talking to her, Johnny standing to her right. There's a vase behind her, she notices it, knocks it off and like a cat slowly drags a piece to her. Throwing the syringe at Johnny she takes the shard and replaces it agaisnt her throat. Eyes wild. Fear pumping through her veins, she tries to speak.

"N-n-n-o………Hu-ur-t." Then points her free pointer at herself. It's then that it settles in everyone's bones that she has truly been to hell and back. Because her she was, lost in the halls of her mind, willing to take her own life then suffer at their hands. To her, they're the enemy. They're already caused her imaginable amounts of pain. Her hand shakes. Full on shakes to the point the tip slices into her skin, the blood dribbling down her pale skin. Johnny is on the brink of falling apart, the scene to reminiscent of a friend long forgotten. The same fear he felt then bubbling back up, the air slowly leaving his throat. He's pushing past her father in seconds, collapsing in the hall as he tries to catch his breath. Price nodding towards the hall when Gaz looks at him. IT takes the younger man a minute to pull himself away.

"I'll be in the hall, alright, doll?" She doesn’t hear it, her mind envisioning the Russian soldiers once again. Its their hands she feels sliding up her back, coming down her shoulder and wrapping around her thighs. Their voices she hears whispering to her left.

"She's hallucinating, we need to sedate her and get her strapped in." It Ghost whirling around first, eyes hard as steel.

"The fuck 'ya will." The venom in his tone would put a rattler to shame. The hand on his shoulder isn't his Captains. It's her dad's. He's pressing him back, separating him from the doctor.

"My daughter is no longer under your care." The doctor starts to speak. "Shut the fuck up before I knock your false teeth down your throat." That shuts him up. "You will not touch my child, you will not sedate her, or strap her down. You will release her into the care of Captain John Price." The doctor is staring, mouth wide open. Ghost closes it, chuckling as he walks to Sarah.

Sarah whos slowly coming out of it, the sound of her father's voice a anchor in the distance. Then there's a presence in front of her. It's the masked angel. The one with the honey'd eyes. Ghost. She thinks. It fits him. He's in front of her now. Hands on her cheeks, and she's smiling. The shard slowly slipping from her hand. Ghost slaps it away, gently pinching her cheeks. She's still smiling.

"Flower? Hey, come back okay?" Her eyes are slowly focusing. "You're safe, love, your dad is here. We're gonna take you home, yea? Sound nice." She shakes her head slightly, eyes focusing ion him. Confusion and shame filling them instantly. "There she is." She's pulling herself into him, latching on him like a baby koala. Sobs wracking her body. She sits like that until her father appears beside her, and then she's crawling into his lap.

"You used to sit like this with me when you were little." He whispers it in her hair while rocking her back and forth. "On nights where you couldn't sleep and I'd still be awake. I'd hear your tiny feet run down the hall, cheeks wet with a nightmare, and crawl into my lap. Some rerun of  Married With Children on the TV. You'd just lay there, eyes glued to the screen. Never moved a muscle. I've never told you this, but, those were my favorite moments. I'd stay up just so you'd come sit with me. You're the best thing I've ever done in my life, Sarah. Losing you was my biggest fear, but I've got you. You're safe now." He's pulling her back. Speaking to her clearer now. "I can't help you Sarah. Daddy can't help you in the way you need help. I'm gonna leave you with the Captain, okay?" She's shaking her head in disagreement, more tears running down her cheeks.

"It's alright, you're gonna be okay. He's gonna help you. I couldn't help your mother," His voice breaks. "And I can't help you. So I'm doing the best thing I can do for you." She nods, head agaisnt his chest, eyes catching Price's. Thanking him in her own way.

[gay-disabled-characters-showdown]

LGBTQ+ Disabled Characters Showdown Round 4, Wave 2, Poll 6

A character being totally canon LGBTQ+ and disabled was not required to be in this competition. Please check qualifications and propaganda before asking why a character is included.

Check out the other polls in this wave and round here.

Eda Clawthorne-The Owl House

Qualifications:

She has a magical chronic disorder which has flare-ups, is mitigated by taking medication (potions), and has similar side effects to many real disorders such as fatigue, greying hair, and physical impairment (drains magic, a natural ability of *most witches). Unlike in other stories however, her condition is NOT ever completely cured. It does evolve and become more manageable over the course of the story, but she still experiences symptoms from it. Eda also loses one of her arms later in the story. She does get a replacement hook, but it is never shown whether she has a functional prosthetic or not. Most likely, she only has one fully functioning arm after this. As for being queer, she is in a relationship with a nonbinary person and is all but confirmed bisexual (has a secret box with the bi flag on it seriously why else would she have this). Also the owl house has a Lot of queer characters in it and I mean. just look at her. I would be surprised if she wasn't queer somehow.

Bisexual, and has a curse that affects her day to day life

Bi & lost arm and has a chronic illness metaphorically

Propaganda:

Has canonically dated both men and a non-binary person. Her curse affects her ability to use magic (and at one point outright stops it), which is very important in witch life. Said curse also causes her body parts to fall off sometimes. Many have said her curse is like a metaphor for depression but really it's more like a magic version of a physical disability (although I wouldn't be surprised if she actually also had depression).

Uuuuh she’s great and stuff idk I can’t propaganda well sorry

Roronoa Zoro-One Piece

Qualifications:

He's canonically visually impaired and implied to be gay in the live action!!!

as for him being queer, nothing is confirmed unfortunately but it is common for fans to interpret him as gay and transgender. the gay interpretation comes from him not showing a lot of interest in women and having a lot of very shippable moments with other men, as well as some moments in the recent live action. the trans headcanons come from his backstory, where he helps his best friend Kuina deal with the internalized misogyny she got from her father dismissing her as a swordswoman because of her gender - it would make the story a little cooler if zoro has had to deal with this misogyny himself. (Same person, different tumblr ask)

Propaganda:

hes such a guy. he's green. he doesn't know directions. he sleeps 20 hours a day. he's a feminist. he's suicidal. he was crucified. he's a 19 year old alcoholic. he has the biggest tits out of all the straw hats. he's even gay

[bradshawed]

Sick Days & Cancelled Dates

summary — poor bobby passing the nasty bug onto you, meaning you lay in bed on a hot summer’s day. don’t worry, you won’t be alone, not for long…

warnings — jacob thomas seresin’s eyes, fluff, disgusting niceness, cooking, mentions of food, no use of y/n, slight tension, more nice stuff, it’s just a cute little one shot really

word count — 1k words

so i completely gave up on adding pictures to this one because i just wanted to get it published but i hope you get the gist. sorry that it took so bloody long to publish, i’ve been insanely busy but hopefully i can get some stuff out every once in a while. hope you all like it and feel free to lmk if you guys want sick jake or dagger squad too xx

the love olympics masterlist.

Waking up with a sore throat you’d instantly felt the telltale signs of a cold as you closed your eyes, laying back in bed with a dramatic groan. Who even gets a cold in summer?

Flashbacks flip through your mind as you roll onto your side burying yourself under the bedsheets, replaying the moment you delivered Bob, a very sick Bob, some homemade soup a couple of days ago. It had only been for a second and yet he’d somehow managed to pass the cold onto you. You still loved him but times like these you hated that Bob got ill so easily.

Falling back asleep, you decided was the best course of action, or it would’ve been if you hadn’t heard a pair of very familiar footsteps running up the staircase to your bedroom waking you up, not even half an hour later. It was definitely a terrible idea to give him a key.

Hiding in your duvet burrito, you grabbed a pillow and flung it in the general direction of the noise in your room, smiling when you heard a dramatic ‘ow’ when you made contact. It was definitely worth the sacrifice of your pillow and the extra comfort. Especially when he fell to the floor as if he’d been acting out a death scene in a play in high school, typical Jake. It did however, make you wonder if he could’ve been a theatre kid..maybe in another life. You smiled as you drifted off to sleep again with the thoughts of actor Jake in your mind.

Seresin, assessing the situation (poking at your body until you yelled at him to tell him to leave you alone because you were sick), decided to go back downstairs to make you something to eat. He had been greatly worried since you were late for the day out you’d planned together and hadn’t answered your phone so he called Bradley who told him to kindly leave him alone on his day off and reminded him to use the key you’d given Jake for emergencies. So that’s exactly what he did…

A couple of hours later, you shuffled downstairs, refusing to give up your burrito of warmth just yet, to meet a snoring Jake on your couch, Mamma Mia playing in the background. The delicious smell wafting from the kitchen made your stomach rumble but you felt bad eating without him so you jumped on top of his sleeping body on the couch, effectively waking him up.

In hindsight, you should’ve anticipated his reflexes grabbing hold of your body which had unraveled from the duvet, holding you closer to him than either of you expected.

“Morning,” you sent a soft reply back, far too flustered from the position you were both in as well as his morning voice. Jake’s hand reached up to move a couple of wild strands of hair away from your forehead as he checked your temperature with the back of his hand with a gentle hum on his voice, “still a little warm but better than before”. You nodded in reply, a little entranced by the flecks of gold in the green of his eyes.

Jake noticed. He always notices. Or more accurately, he always notices you. His grip on your body tightened ever so slightly as he let himself get lost in the moment before gently moving your body off his. He shook his head lightly, reminding himself that he was only here to outdo you on the dates and win (you over), nothing more, nothing less.

You took a minute to breathe, gaining your composure before following him into the kitchen where he began heating and plating up the food he’d prepared.

“So Chef Seresin, what have you prepared for me today?”

“Well Chef, today we’ve got a classic Seresin household Sick Day Soup, I can’t tell you the ingredients because it’s a secret recipe, if I tell you it won’t work. Oh and a cheese toastie made from that sourdough loaf from the market that you like.”

Your eyes widened at that because you definitely didn’t have a single slice of bread in your apartment until that moment so that must have meant that- you punched Jake in the arm, the ‘ow’ was justified for him being too nice and driving an hour to go to your favourite market. God the urge to kiss him or punch him again was getting harder by each passing second.

Jake, sensing some sort of inner turmoil within you chose to move himself to a slightly safer area by grabbing the dishes and moving them to the coffee table, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead as he moved past you.

After you’d both eaten yourselves into a delicious food coma, and Jake had washed the dishes, much to your chagrin, you felt a wave of fatigue rush over you just as he’d appeared with a bunch of painkillers and cold medicine and a glass of water.

“Thank you for today, I really appreciate it. You didn’t have to-” you stopped yourself having seen the look in his eyes, “but thank you. I saw the picnic basket in the kitchen and I’m sorry for ruining your plans. We can still go out if you want, I feel so much better, plus I just took the medicine.”

He sighed sadly at that, you weren’t ruining anything, and Jake made sure to take the time to tell you that before carrying you up to your bedroom. He definitely didn’t have to do that but you honestly did not mind one bit.

Waking up a couple of hours later, you discovered a bouquet of flowers arranged in a vase in your kitchen, as well as a note in his flowy handwriting mentioning that dinner was in the oven waiting to be heated up. The huge smile on your face wasn’t going to disappear any time soon.

Good thing you got to return he favour the next day with Jake soon catching the bug along with the other aviators in quick succession after that.

tags — @waklman @sematarygirls @djs8891 @kmc1989 @dempy message/comment to be added to the tag list xx

[indigos-stardust]

Violet, Blue, And Bruised All Over: Long Talks part 2

Part 1/ Part 2/ Part 3/ Part 4/ Part 5/ Part 6/ Part 6 2/3

Sorry for the hiatus lol, Vio and greens Convo is next part, should be fun, Comments and reblogs appreciated!! I wanna hear y'all's thoughts!

"Green was right about those too being similar. But it wasn't just cuz they were so stubborn. More like they were both weirdos that had a vendetta against sleep. Seriously, would it kill Blue to sleep in for five more minutes..."

Blue unlocks the gate to the training yards, practically yanking the key out before he shoved his way into the door. Yep, there it was. Blue, folks. Mr. King of Emotional Repression. Red couldn't help but roll his eyes. Sure, he was kinda bullying Blue right now, but it was only in his head! And it wasn't his fault Blue dragged him out here before the Hylias light could even grace the sky.

Blue just kept moving like some stocky stiff machine, aggressively setting up the training dummies. Oh no- That layout and choice of training dummies and lack of shields meant he wanted to be competitive. Usually Green was there to rise to the challenge in those "everyone's the enemy and lets see who'll score more points because I actually feel angry at the world but I don't know how to talk about it cuz I'm Blue!" duel things. But today, it was only Red. Hell no.

Ok, all he had to do with turn up the charm! Just cuz there wasn't any sun didn't mean he couldn't shine bright enough to make up for it! Probably.

Red's plan was to softly put his hand on Blue's shoulder, start with that emotional support you know, but then Blue immediately stiffening and clenched his entire body so hard before he'd even grazed his fingers against him. Oh this was bad.

"Hey Blue?"

Blue grip on the wooden training swords was so tight his knuckles were white. If he breaks another one he'll get splinters again.

Time to turn up the charm, "Blue? Hey! Why are you being a grumpy silly head??"

He tried to really bring some light soft teasing into it, with wide open eyes and a non judgemental silence aaaannnnd-

Blue turned around with the most pathetic look he'd ever seen Blue wear in his entire life! Or well, since they became four people anyways- Is that what I look li- NO PAY ATTENTION TO BLUE.

He looks like a toddler trying desperately to NOT bawl his eyes out! Face all scrunched up, eyes unsure, and a wobbling uncertainty. He was obviously trying to look mad, but the way his furrowed brows and eye kept twitching it was clear he couldn't hold on to Red's all consuming gentleness.

All at once Blue yelled an ugly curse and kicked into the weapons rack. Red had to flinch back to avoid the whiplash.

"UEGH! Don't you get it?! Of course IM NOT FREAKING OKAY?!!"

Hook, line, and sinker.

"WHY IS IT THAT WHENVER SOMETHING BAD HAPPENS ITS ALL MY FAULT?! OH ILL TELL YOU WHY, ITS CUZ IM THE BAD GUY RIGHT?! RIGHT?!!"

Oof, and there it is. Raw and true, and oh so Blue. Red had been tempted to zone out on Blue's rant's since they could get.. slightly lengthy, but he still needed to pay attention. Cuz buried under all those sharp cold layers was something very raw and in pain. Lashing out like a cornered animal. Oh Blue...

Blue kept stomping and huffing as he went on, hands clenching and grasping as thought he was trying to strangle an enemy that wasn't there. Stomping feet leaving little clouds of dust in his wake as he went back and forth.

"I'm NOT some kid!"

" HE'S THE ONE WHO-"

"I didn't even DO ANYTHING?!"

"I trIeD to DEAL with the NERD but NoOOOOo I'm THE BAD GUY-"

"Teaching him a lesson and THEN GREEN-"

One after one, a dam broken, the hot waters gushing out with a force so great it'd overwhelm and push away anyone who tried to stop it. But Red didn't try to stop it. He let it pass around him as he observed. He was ok, and Blue would be ok too.

He loved Blue.

"And- AND- He- I JUST- AUGH!"

Suddenly, Blue stops in his tracks. Flustered, red and sweating, feet together like some shy and embarrassed kid. He's got a grip on his own arm, shoulders hunched, like he's trying to keep himself together. A look of frightened shock overcomes him, as though he's only just now realized where he is.

Red just keeps sitting on the bench though, head tilted, mind open. Puppy vibes c'mon. He watches Blue crumble inside, a deep sigh overcoming him.

"And I-"

"Yeah?"

"I just-"

Red quietly smiles, and pats the spot beside him. Before he knows it, Blue has already plopped beside him, exhausted without even picking up a sword.

"I just don't get it."

"Whaddya mean?"

Blue fists grip his knees tighter. "Why he was even so mad..."

"Green?"

"N-No, I... I deserved that. ONLY a little bit though I-"

Red incredulously raised a single eyebrow.

"AUGH! Ok fine! I deserved it a lot! Is that what you want?? To rub it in more?!"

Red blew a strand of hair out from Infront his nose. He seemed so disinterested at first, but then, like the flick of a finger, a mischievous little smirk grew.

"AWH, Blue!! I didn't know you thought of me so highly!" he beamed.

Blue couldn't have looked more unimpressed if he tried.

Red couldn't help but a giggle a little bit before he softed.

Blue sighed and mumbled remorseful, "Didn't mean to stress you out I just.."

Blue paused, watching the light join the horizon. His whole mood just reminded Red of a damp campfire. Or maybe a wet cat? One of the two for sure. Red couldn't help the surge of love and pride, Blue really had gotten SO much better at talking about his feelings! Blue worked so hard on it, Blue was amazing.

Red pressed up against his side and slipped his hand over Blue's.

Blue finally broke, "I just can't figure out how I messed up so bad- Vio- I know he doesn't like me, I get why I just- What did I do to make HIM outta all people get so... mad? at me?"

Oh. Red got it now.

"He never gets like that, that's what I do! And- I just don't get how I messed up that bad?!"

Red frowned, thoughtful, "Well, what happened before you guys started fighting and stuff?"

Blue grimaced, "I was just.. Telling him to do the laundry for once- Wasn't even telling him to do it correctly this time either!"

Red mentally facepalmed, but schooled his expression. This was like when he almost got into a fight with the radish seller guy isn't it?

"Blue," Red started quietly, "Do you remember how you asked him to do the laundry?"

Blue froze, stupefied, like he'd never considered in all his history that that could do anything with what happened. Probably because he hadn't. Blue was, extremely, tone deaf.

"I uh, joked about it? I mean- I he mentioned me like- being all frozen and stuff like a jerk! I was trying to "lighten stuff up like you said I should!"

Oh for Faron's fate-

"Blue," Red deadpanned, " Tell me exactly what you said. And what you guys were talking about BEFORE that. "

The absolute clueless, oblivious, and unaware look that screamed "thoughtless gerbil in a field with hawks" was. So painful to watch.

"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh... Well uhhh Vio was kinda like. Being a btch?"

Red somehow managed to resist the urge to slam his skull into the brick wall behind them.

"Blue."

Blue, in question defensively puffed up like some startled baby kitten, " Hey! I- I'm telling the story and its the truth! It's not just me being mean about it! And- I won't even swear again ok! Don't tell Green- Please-"

Red silently stared into Blue's soul for half a minute. Din give me strength- "Okay."

Blue straightened up, like he was talking to some higher ranking knight, confident and steady. Or as confident and steady as you could be when you had baby rabbit ears that flicked and burned crimson with shame.

"He- He thinks that he's better than everyone else, you KNOW how big his head is-"

"Bigger than yours, Blue?"

"H-hey n- No! ANYWAYS, he was being all judgmental and crap!"

"Uh huh?"

" And- And all 'oHHOoOHH IM ~ViO~ And I'm- I'm smart and you're stupid! 'AND THEN- Get this! He goes all, freaking 'You don't care and you're hearts frozen HAHAHAh'-"

" Really, Blue? Really?"

"Oh come on! You know he's got that weird like- Theater kid laugh?? Like he learned it from that Shadow or something I dunno- Weird little sorta- kinda maniac-"

"Blue."

"Geez OK! Fine!," Blue relented, " Ok maybe he didn't laugh, but he did say like- my- My heart might as well still be frozen and-" Blue choked off.

"Oh. That's.... pretty messed up."

"Yeah. And- I've been thinking at least I have a heart..." Blue concluded grimly.

"Well there's more to it than that right?" Red prodded.

"Well! I tried to- Ya know, make it into a joke or whatever- And told him that oh hey! Maybe, maybe HE broke his brain like how the mirror was all smashed! Like- A you're making fun of me so I'm making fun of you joke-"

Blue made airquotes, "Banter, or whatever," he shrugged.

Was this how Green felt? Like several of his veins were just going to pop? Like he just wanted to lay on the ground and cry? And just eat a bunch of cupcakes and hide in his plushie pile? Okay, that last part was definitely mostly Red, but still! Blue was. The whole fight thing was... Yeah, yeah this just meant Red was right. They were being all emotional while trying to not be all emotional. That plan NEVER works! Stupid idiots. Big ol' dummies. His brothers.

"Blue, you know he's like... Sensitive about what happened in the tower of winds right??"

"He's what?"

"BLUE! He- He never talks about it! He gets all weird when WE talk about it! He- He goes off all quiet to "sort out his thoughts" or whatever! He doesn't go off and get all angry like you do!! He- He acts all mature and stoic and stuff!!"

"Oh."

"Bluuueee!!"

"Wait. Wait- So he actually- Wait are you saying I HURT his- his little twinky feelings??"

"BLUE!"

"What! I didn't know he cared about stuff!"

"You didn't think he had feelings??!!"

"N- I mean- Maybe- Have you met the guy?"

"BLUE WE USED TO BE THE SAME PERSON HOW ARE YOU SO-"

"...."

Red groaned, "Sorry Blue..."

"So Vio was right then huh?"

"H-huh?"

"I'm, I am kinda stupid huh?"

"Heh, well... hm... maybe jus' a lil bit.."

"He's still a jerk though."

"Ok, but now you guys can apologize?"

"..."

"BLUE-"

[nijisanji-brain-rot-fics]

xsoleil boys x reader || wedding day

a/n: im bored as hell now guys 😭 im just gonna like post a bunch of headcanon stuff LOL i might post like fanfics, but thats a maybe wwww ALSO ALSO starting to reaaally like the later waves of niji, so ill prob focus on mainly xsoleil, noctyx, iluna, etc. ill dribble in some luxiem from time to time, but like the other waves need attention too 🙌 i might do some of the fem waves, but im not sure how to write those LOL

HEX HAYWIRE

bro this man's voice makes my brain go haywire

anyways uh

would definitely just be like very happy and stoic during yalls wedding

he'd treat you like his pretty princess/prince

anyways uhhh he would be that kind of romantic person to like take your hand and kiss it once you go to the front

oh my lord, im struggling to find his green flags when all i listen to from his asmrs are the yandere ones

UHM...... i mean like reception would be cute, like he'd dance with you

like beauty and the beast vibes ykkk

help im genuinely struggling w anything thats positive about marrying him 💀

DOPPIO DROPSCYTHE

AWWW HED BE SMILING AND LIKE EXCITED

LIKE HE WOULD BE WAITING FOR YOU EXCITEDLY AT THE FRONT

i feel like doppio would just be generally so excited and happy hes finally marrying the person he loves so much

he would fix his hair JUST FOR THIS

this is also the only event he will never be late to

oh god he would be so nervous when the ceremony actually starts

like hes worried he'll mess up his parts or someone will object

BUT it probably wont happen and itll be a great wedding!!

reception!doppio would be fucking lit

HE WOULD BE THE LIFE OF THE PARTY

he'd already be making dad jokes even if he isnt a dad yet

i swear, he would be kissing your forehead or cheek every few minutes

oh my goodness, drunk doppio would be so sweet

like i can just imagine him getting tipsy while like the maid of honor and the groomsman doing their little speech things and him getting really emotional

VER VERMILLION

honestly, i think he would cry at yalls wedding

like, he just screams 'emotionally fragile man on occasion'

the second he sees you in your wedding dress/suit/wtv, he'll start tearing up knowing that yall r gonna be married

and he loves you ya know

he'd hide the fact he was tearing up when you get to the front www

five bucks, doppio would be stifling his laughter when he sees ver crying

reception would be wholesome

ver would be whispering things to you while you guys dance

and not just random things

like i mean in korean

yeah his cute ass voice when he talks in korean

the voice where you want to keel over and throw up because it's really goddamn adorable and kind of attractive because people who speak more than one language is always somewhat attractive

tipsy ver is something to live for

it doesn't always happen but when it does its either hilarious as fuck or really cute and wholesome

like when he gets drunk, there's a 50% chance he starts to emote on the dance floor with an equally drunk doppio

or he could be holding your hand the whole time and staying by your side

a/n: WWWW im sorry i half assed hex's hcs LMAO i just genuinely cant see something that isnt overly explicit or kinky that wouldnt happen on ur wedding so thats why his is like the shortest lmao 💀 errhmm yeah, also ver is my #1 oshi thats why he has like the uh longest one LMAO UHHM yeah whatever lols have a good timezone

[stonesparrow]

Save The World Any%

After getting shot in Araxá, Senku wakes up in his fifteen year old body on the day he first broke free from the petrification, nearly four years before. He then decides to use his knowledge of future events to defeat Why-man as fast as humanely possible. The world won’t know what hit it.

Read on ao3!

One second, Senku’s lying on the ground bleeding profusely from his chest as the petrification light spreads across his body, the darkness closing in on him as he smiles triumphantly at Xeno. 

The next, the pain in his chest has vanished completely, and he’s staring up at the sunlight falling over his face through a canopy of lush green trees.

Senku blinks. When he sits up, chunks of stone and moss fall from his body, and he finds himself staring straight at the open face of a very familiar cave. 

“Huh,” he says.

Then his face breaks out into a wide grin. 

“Kukuku, how very interesting.”

TIME: 00:00:00:00

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

Despite having a pretty comprehensive plan in mind for this second go around, Senku still ends up spending a fair bit of time getting food, shelter, and clothes again—losing what little stamina he’d built up and being reset to his fifteen-year old body is rather frustrating. But he’s been given a chance to do things better, more efficiently, and he won’t look a gift horse in the mouth. 

And it does end up being faster, because now he knows how to make a good stone axe, now he knows how to make waterproof pots, how to make a good bone needle.

He still writes the mass-energy equivalence formula on his clothes. It doesn’t seem right to not have it.

The most important thing he knows however is of course, the revival fluid formula, and where to find grapes for wine. And so within two months, he’s got it.

SPLASH!!

“Gwuh-huh?!” Taiju splutters, shaking the stone bits from his hair before his eyes go wide and he gasps. “SENKU!!”

Senku grins. “Hey, big oaf.”

Tears flow from Taiju’s eyes and he launches himself at Senku. Or he would, if he wasn’t still halfway buried in the ground. Luckily it doesn’t take Taiju that much time to dig himself out, with Senku’s help.

Soon however, Senku realizes that Taiju actually doesn’t remember Araxá, or anything from after he was turned to stone. When they go to wake up Yuzuriha right afterwards, she’s the same. 

Ah well, Senku can work with this. 

“Alright!” he grins at his two best friends, who are eager to help as always. “First thing’s first, we’re going to Hakone!”

Ideally he’d wake up Gen and Nikki and some of the stronger guys to help out, but Senku doesn’t know where any of them are right now—he knows Minami would know, but he doesn’t know where she’d be right now. And he’s not about to wake Tsukasa up to find out. They were cool back in 5742, sure, but Senku just really doesn’t want to deal with 5738 Tsukasa right now. 

Besides, it would take time to find them. And Ruri doesn’t deserve to suffer for that long.

“Oh yeah, one more thing,” he says before they set out. Taiju and Yuzuriha stare at him curiously. 

“What is it, Senku-kun?” Yuzuriha asks. 

He crosses his arms. “You’ve both been crying to me about your massive crushes on each other since we were eleven and it’s fucking obnoxious. Get it together or I’m going to have a goddamn aneurysm.”

They stare at him. 

“What?” Taiju croaks.

Senku’s already running over the next hill. “GET IT TOGETHER! CHOP CHOP!”

ACHIEVEMENT: Revival fluid acquired!

Taiju joined the party!

Yuzuriha joined the party!

TIME: 67:11:04:33

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

Just as she does every day, Kohaku wakes up bright and early to get Ruri’s bathwater. When she gets there however, she’s startled by the presence of three people her age she’s never seen before at the hot springs—a girl and two boys. 

The shorter of the boys crosses his arms and grins at her. “Heya, Lioness! Name’s Ishigami Senku, son of Ishigami Byakuya. Do you happen to need a cure for a coughing illness?”

Kohaku blinks. “What?”

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

“I’m, sorry, you met who now?” Jasper frowns. 

“Look I really don’t know how to explain this properly,” Kohaku says, hand to her forehead. “Can I just talk to Ruri?” 

Ruri pokes her head out of the hut. “What is it, Kohaku? Everything okay?”

“Uh well,” Kohaku scratches her head. “Does the name Ishigami Senku sound familiar?”

Ruri’s eyes go wide.

ACHIEVEMENT: Ishigami Village allegiance acquired!

TIME: 69:09:41:01

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

“Wait this is like, a lot to process,” Chrome says as Senku draws out the roadmap on the ground for the whole village to see. “You’re the son of the Founder, you were asleep for three thousand years, and you also know how to make a medicine to cure Ruri?”

“Yeah,” Senku says, tapping the ground. “Now let's get this over with so she doesn’t have to marry you from her sickbed.”

Chrome’s face turns bright red. “WHAT?!”

“Oh, and Kinro!” Senku yells over at him. “You need glasses!”

Kinro blinks. “What is he talking about?” he murmurs to Kohaku. She shrugs. 

Four months later and everyone is in tears as Ruri takes her first clear breaths in years. 

“How can I repay this kindness?” Kokuyo asks Senku, practically sobbing as he hugs a laughing Ruri to his chest.

Senku grins. “Weeeeell…you could let me borrow Chrome, Kaseki, Kohaku, and Suika for a hot minute.”

Suika looks up from where she’s making straw dolls with Yuzuriha and Kaseki. “EHH??!”

ACHIEVEMENT: Cure Ruri!

TIME: 189:16:17:02

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

“Senku-kun?”

“Yes Yuzuriha?”

“Remind me again why we’re blowing up the hillside here?”

Senku shovels some dirt to the side. “Looking for a kid.”

“See no, I get that,” Yuzuriha says, waving at Taiju and Chrome as they’re carting over the next round of dynamite. “But…why?”

“Don’t worry,” Senku says, shoveling more dirt away. “All part of the plan.”

When they find and revive her, Shishio Mirai blinks up at them in confusion.

“You’re not the doctor,” she says curiously to Senku. He smiles. 

“Nope. But I’ll take you to your brother now, if that’s alright with you.”

She lights up. “Okay! Thank you!”

Taiju leads them to where he found Tsukasa’s statue, and as soon as the stone flakes off his eye he spots his sister and freezes. 

“Mirai?” he says it like a prayer. 

“Tsukasa-nii!” Mirai cheers, throwing her arms around him. 

They get Tsukasa dressed and he holds his hand out to Senku. 

“Thank you,” he says, voice quivering slightly with Mirai tucked into his other side. “I thought…I didn’t think I’d ever see her again. Please, what can I do to repay you?”

Senku grins. “You ever heard of a reporter named Hokutozai Minami?”

Tsukasa joined the party!

TIME: 200:14:27:54

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

“Oh,” Minami says as they’re making a list of people to revive. “Do you think a spear-user would be useful? There’s this one kudayari athlete, Akatsuki Hyoga—”

“Nope,” Senku says. 

“Eh? But we’re pretty limited on weapons,” Minami points out. “An expert might be hel-“

“Nope,” Senku repeats. “Nuh uh. Noooo.”

Minami sighs. “Well, okay…”

Hyoga did not join the party!

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

“I can’t believe all it took was glasses for Kinro to win the entire tournament,” Ginro says in amazement as the party for the new chief continues into the night. “Science sure is powerful…”

“Eh, it was mostly him, the glasses just leveled the playing field,” Senku says, biting into a roast fish. “Anyway, Chrome, since Ruri and Kinro got amicably divorced I fully expect an invitation to your wedding within the week.”

“Why are you like this?” Chrome hisses, face beet red. “Anyway, shouldn’t we worry about Magma? He’s totally pissed at us for what happened!”

“Nah, Gen got him and Yo to start competing and now he’s spending all his energy on that instead,” Senku says, picking fish bones out of his teeth. “And Tsukasa’s keeping an eye on him, it’s no problem.”

“Modern timers sure are weird,” Kohaku remarks.

“I’m fairly certain that’s just Senku-chan,” Gen says.

ACHIEVEMENT: Resolve the Grand Bout!

TIME: 378:20:06:51

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

When Kirisame and Mozu are sent to deal with a mysterious boat that’s appeared on the shore, they’re both pretty certain it’ll be a quick job.

But when Kirisame throws the petrification weapon, some sort of flying creature suddenly appears and snatches it out of the air, and to their shock and confusion the beam completely misses the entire boat. 

“What the—?!” Kirisame exclaims, the rope having been pulled right out of her hand. 

The strange bird drops down to the deck of the boat and a young man with green hair plucks the petrification device from it with a wild grin, looking directly at the two warriors.

“Get the device!!” Kirisame yells, and she and Mozu leap aboard the enemy’s craft, but before they can so much as swing their weapons—

“Three meters, one second.”

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

“That was awesome!” Ryusui chortles. “The drone worked perfectly, they didn’t know what hit them!”

“I’m still confused as to how we knew exactly which direction they’d come from,” Ukyo mutters.

“Don’t worry about it,” Senku says. “It all worked out fine.”

“Did you have to catch me in the blast too?” Gen whines as Chrome is revived. “That was terrifying!”

“Hey, it got them, didn’t it?” Senku shrugs as he dumps revival fluid on a tied-up Kirisame. She blinks in confusion.

“Wh—I’m alive? But how?!”

Senku pulls Soyuz forward and snaps his fingers in front of Kirisame’s face. “Yo! Your Master is dead, here’s your prince, we’re gonna throw a coup now.”

Kirisame stares at Soyuz, eyes widening in recognition.

“WHAT?!”

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

It’s been a weird day for Amaryllis. First she misplaced her basket, then she accidentally burned lunch, and then messengers came from the capital saying that Minister Ibara had been discovered as a traitor and was defeated by their new Master, the long lost son of the first Master who had been unjustly killed by Ibara. The harem obligation has been completely abolished, and apparently the new Master had a bunch of friends from far away who brought with them an elixir that could cure petrification!

It all gets to be rather much, and Amaryllis finds herself sitting outside her hut in a daze realizing that someone beat her to the punch to overthrow the tyrannical leadership. She won’t have to join the harem. They can revive her friends.

She’s free. 

Then of course, every young man in the village suddenly appears at her feet begging her to marry them. Amaryllis stares for a second, then bursts out laughing.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you all,” she grins as they all blink in confusion and dismay, “But you’re going to have to get to know the real Amaryllis before you can hope to win my hand.”

No more fake tears. No more pretending to be silly and sweet and mindless. The true Amaryllis is finally back.

On the other side of the island, a ship is sailing away, and Senku waves to Soyuz triumphantly.

ACHIEVEMENT: Reclaim Soyuz’s throne!

ACHIEVEMENT: Medusa acquired!

ACHIEVEMENT: Platinum acquired!

TIME: 668:13:07:42

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

When he open fires on the strange ship that’s coming up the river, Stan notices that they all instantly duck behind heavy walls that look…almost like they’ve been set up in anticipation of gunfire.

He’s about to circle around for another round when suddenly one of the young women leaps up and throws something. 

A flash of green, and everything goes dark. 

“Oh my god,” Gen says as they haul the wrecked plane onto the shore. “We didn’t kill him, did we?”

“Naaaah, he’ll be fine,” Senku says. “Right Yuzuriha?”

“You owe me a five hour modeling session,” she says pleasantly as she puts the smaller pieces of Stanley Snyder in her basket. 

Senku shrugs. “Fair enough.”

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

“Hmm.”

“What is it boss?” Brody asks.

“Something’s wrong with Stan’s radio,” Xeno says. “He’s not answering.”

“Maybe those strangers shot him down,” Maya says, frowning.

“No way!” Charlotte declares. “Captain Snyder is a top class pilot. Even if the trespassers have guns like ours, he wouldn’t allow himself to get shot out of the air so quickly!”

“Something’s definitely up though,” Brody says. 

“I concur,” Xeno nods. “Charlotte, take the second plane and go investigate.”

“Yes sir.” She moves towards the door, but then suddenly it opens.

“Dr. Xeno, sir,” Leonard says. “We’ve discovered a trespasser.”

“Oh? Do bring them in,” Xeno clasps his hands over his lap. Two burly soldiers escort a young blonde man into the room between them. He looks half-Asian. 

“Good morning!” He says cheerfully in barely-accented English. “You sure have a nice place here! I desire such architectural talents myself!”

“And I desire to know who you are,” Xeno says. “And what you plan on doing here, if you would be so kind.”

The man smiles. “Three hundred meters, one second.”

“What?”

Everything goes green. 

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

“I can’t believe you volunteered for such a dangerous mission,” Ukyo says, shaking his head at Ryusui. 

Ryusui laughs. “It was pretty fun, actually!”

Senku dumps the revival fluid over Xeno, who stares at him in amazement.

“Senku Ishigami?”

“In the flesh, Dr. X!” Senku crosses his arms. “Look. There’s no point in a dumbass dream like world domination when there’s a very real, very unknown force on the moon trying to turn the whole world to stone with little gadgets like these.” He holds up the Medusa. “So you’re going to help us get there, got it?”

Xeno tilts his head, processing the information. Then looks at Tsukasa and Nikki standing on either side of him with their big burly arms and swords at their waists.

“My my,” he says. “You’re all grown up, aren’t you?”

Senku scoffs. “You in or not?”

Xeno grins. “Well with an offer like that, how can I say no? Yes…this will be an elegant project indeed.”

Senku rolls his eyes. “Weirdo.”

“Pot, kettle,” Gen whispers to Ukyo.

ACHIEVEMENT: Defeated the Americans!

Xeno joined the party!

TIME: 708:15:52:09

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

“He can’t be like, psychic, can he?”

“No way! Psychic powers don’t exist.”

“Are we sure? When I was younger I was pretty certain stonification beams didn’t exist.”

“Maybe he reads minds or can see the future or something.”

“No, that doesn’t make any sense. If he could see the future, he’d have stopped the global petrification before it ever happened.”

“Well whatever it is, he hasn’t gotten us killed yet. That has to count for something, right?”

“Key word being yet…”

“Aw come on guys it’s not that bad. Yeah he’s weird, but he cares. Maybe eventually he’ll trust us enough to explain himself a little better.”

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

The rocket is built. 

They meet the ones responsible for the global petrification.

It’s over.

ACHIEVEMENT: “Defeat” Why-man!

TIME: 2533:21:29:17

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

Or is it?

TIME: 2533:21:29:32

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

The world isn’t saved yet, Senku thinks as he watches Chrome converse with the little Medusa in its glass pod. There’s still millions of people, billions of people, who need to be revived. There’s still important technology that needs to be rebuilt. There’s still Taiju and Yuzuriha’s wedding to be planned.

No, it’s not over yet. Maybe it never will be. 

But they’re here, and he’s happy with that. So there’s no use in counting anymore. Only looking to the next goal, the next step.

That’s life, after all.

TIME: ——:——:——:——

[r473n]

New KenMayu just dropped!

Kenchan x Mayuri AU modern world.

Gift for @toxictaicho and @srtruth 💜

Zaraki is a retired army guy finding it very hard to balance his internalised homophobia and the fact he is falling in love with a dude.

Mayuri is a neurosurgeon with no interest and no time to waste on a relationship, certainly not with that idiot man that keeps appearing everywhere he goes!

Fluffy, smutty, self-indulgent mess.

Mayuri's transness plays a pivotal role in this fic - I normally only mention it casually as another adjective that describes him - and there are going to be some uncomfortable conversations around transphobia and homophobia. But this is fiction, so I get to make it all end up happily, yay!

Link to ao3

Enjoy!

Chapter 1: Will he, won't he

Chapter Text

He strode briskly along the sterile, white, hospital corridors. The clacking of his Louboutin oxfords echoing angrily in the quietness that surrounded him.

This better be fucking good, he thought, or they are getting shouted at until morning.

Mayuri Kurotsuchi hated the night shift. He had no problem staying awake - he’d frequently forget to sleep when he was engrossed in an exciting project - but he detested the lack of a rigid schedule and the constant interruptions, most of which were dull consultations that he wouldn’t deign to reply to in normal circumstances - when other, lesser clinicians were available.

He couldn’t really complain -though he frequently did - most of the residents were so utterly terrified of him that they rarely dared call him, unless the situation was dire.

He pushed through the big double doors of ER and was immediately hit with a cacophonous mayhem. People in blue and green scrubs rushing left and right, a patient whining somewhere, another one crying for their mommy - or morphine, he wasn’t too sure - some doctor shouting instructions that were all wrong... he shuddered. This was why he loathed coming to emergency care - there was too much noise and too much stupidity. When he was operating silence reigned, only his voice could be heard, and that was his idea of heaven.

His ears began ringing painfully. No matter how much he modified those damned cochlear implants they always failed him when there were too many sounds. He could feel the migraine approaching.

“Sir, it was me who put on the call.” Said a petite intern with big, puppy eyes. He looked so young Mayuri was tempted to ask him if his parents knew he was out at this hour. “I'm so, so sorry to bother you, sir, but Mr. Lemura already has a bleeding brain tumour.”

“Well, that would certainly explain why he is so bad at his job.” He said, massaging his temples. This was going to be a terrible night.

“Oh... I-I mean-“

“I know what you meant, idiot. Stop your babbling and give me the history.” He extended his hand, the moment the folder touched his fingers he wrenched it from the boy’s grip. “Where is the patient?”

“Oh, yes, sir! Over here!”

He skimmed through the clinical notes as he walked, trying to pay no mind to his surroundings. Nothing much for past illnesses apart from some mild liver issues, bloods showed high levels of alcohol - nothing atypical at this time of night. Reason for admit: blunt trauma to the head, suspected concussion... A drunken brawl? This asinine case was why this imbecil had woken him up?

“Here we are, sir” said the intern, holding open the partition curtains around one of the gurneys so he could walk through. The whole of the ER was compartmentalised, by drapes hanging from ceiling tracks, into small, almost identical sections that were only big enough to house a hospital bed, a table and a chair.

“Log in and find me his MRI” he muttered without looking up from the page.

“Yes, sir. I had it ready, here” placing the laptop he’d been carrying under his arm on the little overbed table, the young medic opened the tab with the results and stood as far away from Mayuri as he could whilst remaining polite.

Kurotsuchi leant closer to the computer screen and studied the 3D images for a few seconds. Ah, this is much better, he thought.

“Congratulations.” He mocked through a growing smile. “you’ve earned yourself some one-on-one time with the best surgeon in this hospital.” He turned to look at the patient and his grin faltered. The guy was in a terrible state. His face was a bloody pulp, his left arm was in a cast and his chest was covered in bandages that couldn’t hope to conceal the large haematomas spreading over his skin - which signalled many a broken rib. He looked like he’d been run over by a train, not punched by some hooligan.

Mayuri quickly flicked through the pages fearing some mistake. “This is the right patient?” he asked, frowning threateningly at the young doctor.

“Y-yes, sir... Is-is there a problem?” the poor boy’s face had quickly lost all colour. He anxiously tried to peek at the chart in Mayuri’s hands from a safe distance.

“Are you trying to tell me that this man’s injuries were caused in a fist fight?” He could feel his rage starting to bubble inside his chest. The stupid curtains did nothing to quieten the unbearable surrounding racket and now he had to deal with some inefficient anamnesis, or worse, a lying patient.

Ignoring the intern’s nervous stammering he turned his attention to the man again.

“I’ll let you in on a secret, Mr. Sato. I haven’t got the slightest interest in your life, your struggles, your health concerns nor what may have caused your lesions... But, unfortunately for the both of us, in order to do my job properly, and avoid any further senseless demotions, I need to know the truth!” He took a deep breath before he continued, trying to reign in his anger and hopefully improve his pounding headache. “Now, how did you get these wounds?”

The man looked at him with a wary expression, his swollen eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “I was beaten up by some guy.” He muttered as clearly as his broken jaw allowed.

“Some guy... one, single individual?” Mayuri prodded, incredulous.

“Yes! – ouch - Why the fuck would I lie ‘bout that?”

Mayuri knitted his brows - he had a point. Why would this pitiful ned lie about being beaten up by one man, if I were going to fib he’d probably excuse his loss behind some overused fabrication such as ‘there were too many to count’.

“I see.” He stroked his chin, still not fully convinced. “Well, regardless, you have a subdural haemorrhage that needs surgical correction. I will be performing the operation tonight. You can thank me later.”

“Wait, didn’t you say you’d been demoted? I don’t want you operating on me!” the man exclaimed anxiously, wincing in pain.

“I’m terribly sorry I gave you the impression that I care... Patients don’t choose their clinicians in this hospital, which is lucky for you, because you clearly make bad decisions for a living.” he sneered, then handing the intern the file he instructed “I want everything signed and him ready in an hour.”

“Yes, sir.”

Mayuri exited the small area with a dramatic flourish that left the curtains billowing behind him. Perhaps all wasn’t lost, the surgery was simple enough for him, but it meant he likely wouldn’t be bothered again for the rest of the night.

“Mr. Kurotsuchi! How good it is to see you down here!”

A cold chill ran down his spine. That sickly sweet voice always made the hairs at the back of his neck stand on end.

“I was on my way out.” He announced, not looking at his interlocutor, hoping that would cut any further conversation at the root.

“Ah, of course, you’re such a busy man.” Dr. Unohana continued in a patronising tone, gazing at him with her infuriatingly calm expression.

Dr Retsu Unohana was the head of ER and one of the longest standing doctors in the hospital, which, despite her young appearance, made her into a mother figure for most newbies. They all flocked around her like ducklings afraid to get drowned by the current. She was an institution. He would never admit it, but Mayuri considered her one of the most brilliant clinicians he’d ever met. She wasn’t on his level, of course, but she was too close for comfort.

“I was wondering if I could borrow your expertise a little longer. It’s not every day that we are blessed with such a prodigious mind around here.” She said, smiling politely. She had a way to make Mayuri feel small and provoked with each vacuous compliment.

“I’m afraid I can’t. I have to prepare for surgery.” He said curtly, examining his fingernails.

“How exciting! Luckily this will only take a minute.” She pierced him with her icy stare until his will crumbled and with a derisive snort, he admitted defeat. She was a stubborn woman, she’d argue until morning, it was probably best to just go with it than try to escape her passive-aggressive coercion.

Still wearing that maddeningly benign smile, she lead the way and he followed.

“I must admit this probably won’t be as exciting as your usual cases, but I need a neurologist to double check that my patient’s cranial reflexes are intact, before I discharge him.” She casually explained as she walked uncharacteristically slowly.

Mayuri hummed in response. She was more than capable of performing a basic neurological exam, she didn’t need him to double check anything. What was she up to?

“Here we are,” she announced merrily, opening the curtains to a slightly larger cubicle. Mayuri’s mouth fell open. Sitting on the edge of the bed was the most bestial looking man he’d ever seen. His size alone was extremely intimidating, even without the blood stains over his hands and shirt. Mayuri noticed he had an old scar that ran down the side of his face and seemed to have damaged his left eye, and wondered what could have caused it. “Mr. Zaraki here has suffered blunt trauma to his skull, from a hard object, I believe it to be a pool cue?”

The man in question assented with a gruff grunt and Mayuri immediately felt a pleasurable thrill run down his spine. Oh, why is my body such a slut, he thought.

“I'm fine. I told you already, woman. No need to go wasting other people’s time!” The man stood up aggressively, his enormous frame casting a large shadow over the two clinicians. Mayuri's heart rate skyrocketed, he couldn’t tell if the sudden rush of adrenaline was due to exhilaration or apprehension, or perhaps a mixture of the two.

He glanced at Unohana out of the corner of his eye, she seemed as tranquil as if she were sitting by the seashore.

“I'm afraid your injuries might be more serious than you hope, Mr. Zaraki, and since you won’t consent to any imaging, we have to take a more traditional approach.” She explained in a sympathetic, mellow tone that felt completely out of place. “You should sit down.”

“I sai-“ the giant tried to argue, but was immediately cut off.

“You should sit down.” The second time she spoke there was no room for interpretation, she might have omitted ‘or else’ but it was certainly implicit. Her voice had turned steely so drastically that the temperature of the room seemed to drop by at least 10 degrees.

Despite her big, round eyes - that spoke of a demure innocence - and her small stature, there was a dark side to Unohana that seeped out like poisonous fumes from time to time. It was a calm, calculated type of assertiveness that was somehow so terrifying it triggered an innate flight response. She never needed to get angry, her aura was threatening enough for anyone to contradict her.

Zaraki must have felt the shift too because without further protest he did as he was told and sat back down, eyeing her cautiously.

There was a long, awkward silence before Mayuri realised that was his cue to move.

Gulping, a bit uneasy, he approached the mountainous man and sat on a chair in front of him. Even hunched over, Zaraki still appeared massive, his shoulders were almost twice as broad as Mayuri’s and his long, black hair fell limply, framing the sides of his face and giving him an even more savage look.

Mayuri forced himself to focus and proceeded to quietly examine him. A few abrasions on his powerful knuckles, a couple of bruises starting to form over his vast, muscular chest, a split on his lower lip... he examined his reflexes and cranial nerves and found no abnormalities. He was about to announce this when he realised...

“You are the perpetrator?” He exclaimed with no small amount of shock in his voice.

“Eh?” Zaraki was staring at him with an vacant expression, his mouth agape.

“Perhaps my assessment is wrong and you do have concussion.” He said testily. He suddenly felt much more comfortable around him now that he’d realised he was stupid. “Are you the man who beat up my patient? Were you in a bar fight? Is that how you got hit on the head?” he questioned, knocking lightly on his own temple.

“What are you? the fucking police?” Zaraki deflected with a hoarse, cutting tone that sent another shiver flying through Mayuri’s body.

“No...” He smirked. “I was merely wondering what kind of wild animal could have caused injuries such as my patient’s. It's nice to satisfy one's curiosity.”

Zaraki gave him a lopsided smile. “Well, he got it coming.”

“How so?” he leaned closer, catching a whiff of the guy’s intoxicating, manly scent.

“Called my friend a faggot.”

“I see...” Mayuri squirmed, reclining back in his chair. With a huge bully like this, chances were he was just a homophobe trying to defend another homophobe from being called a homophobic slur by yet another homophobe. He needed to tread lightly. Not that he was scared, but he’d been assaulted enough times in his life for being queer. It was getting tiresome.

“He seemed not too happy that my friends were kissing, so I went to see what the fuck was his problem.” Zaraki explained offhandedly with a cheeky smile. “He thought it was smart to talk to me like shit and call my friend that... so I rearranged his face with my fists.”

Mayuri felt a little flutter of hope in his chest.

“Your friends were kissing?” he heard himself ask eagerly, not even sure why he was so interested.

“Yeah. I know it wasn’t a gay bar but why the fuck can they not kiss wherever the fuck they want? They ain’t hurting anyone, right?

“Indeed.”

“They've got a right to do it just like normal people”

“Right...” he had been holding his breath all this time, waiting for the inevitable confirmation of his suspicion, and here it was. It would have been too good to be true.

“Shit, I didn't mean that.” Zaraki flinched, looking embarrassed and awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “Not that they aren't normal, they are. I meant that they should have the same rights as non lgb...gqp...ib people.”

“I believe you may have forgotten a few letters.” Mayuri quipped sarcastically, which clearly flew over the other man’s head.

“Oh... sorry.” Zaraki looked to the side and frowned, as if trying to remember the right acronym.

“Anyway, as riveting as the tales of your honourable conquest might be, I am a very busy man... If you excuse me.” He stood up, taking his gloves off with a loud snap. “I’ll ready your discharge papers and then you may go, Mr... Zaraki.”

“Oh, yeah? is that- don’t you need to do any more tests?”

The way he was looking at Mayuri was interesting, he seemed almost disappointed... or so Mayuri would have believed if it weren’t because, mere minutes before, he had been extremely keen to leave without even a check up.

“No need. I'm extremely good at my job, I can assure you. You’re fine to go home.”

Giving the man a last appraising glance, he exited the little booth, not missing Unohana’s self-satisfied, tiny smirk.

That was indeed an very odd interaction. Why had she called him to perform such a basic check and why was he feeling so flustered all of a sudden?

His ponderings were interrupted when a very pretty twink, with died eyebrows and a fashionable haircut approached him wearing a worried look.

“Excuse me, my name is Yumichika Ayasegawa. Are you Kenpachi’s doctor? Would you be able to tell me if he’s going to be alright?”

“Are you family?” he looked the man up and down.

“No, we’re friends.”

“I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to divulge such information, then.”

A second man, bald and tall, with brightly coloured eyeshadow came towards them, awkwardly carrying three takeaway coffee cups.

“He doesn’t have any family, we’re his emergency contacts, doesn’t that count?” he asked quite aggressively.

“No.” Mayuri replied, chagrined at his tone. “Patient confidentiality is of paramount importance to me.” He lied, revelling in the man’s increasingly angry scowl. “I'm afraid if you want information you’ll have to follow the official channels, like everyone else.” He turned around and immediately walked away before they could harass him with any more annoying questions.

[shunnedmorlock]

Hi! What are your opinions on each of the greens ?

Have a good day/night!

Otto: I think he gets a bad rap, not in absolute terms but relatively to the people like Viserys and Daemon. If you hate Otto for pushing Alicent to marry Viserys, you should hate Viserys much, much more. Otto is "merely" complicit in what happened. There was no one Vissy could've said no to more effectively than Otto. It just goes to a double standard you see a lot with these farcical black-green debates where people change their opinions on whether it's ok to judge people by in-universe standards depending on what "team" they're a part of. He has a habit of telling unfortunate truths that get him in trouble, but most of the things he says are just, like, objectively true, but people don't want to hear it. Daemon is actually a danger to the realm and his brother, Rhaenyra does actually have to give the scions of great houses a hearing, Daemon did actually groom Rhaenyra to claim the throne, Alicent's children do pose an inherent threat to Rhaenyra by their mere existence.

From a Doylist perspective, like many other things, I think episode 9 really butchered Otto's character. All of a sudden the guy who has been working hand in hand with his daughter for the past few episodes didn't tell her about the plot to seat her son on the throne??? And now the guy who got fired by Aegon for being too slow and measured in his war planning is pushing to kill Rhaenyra immediately? And he wants to send the Kingsguard to do clandestine assassin work? And he's reluctant to ban child fighting pits for like no reason? I'm sorry, you don't have to be a feminist to not like that!

Alicent: I have talked about her at length. Nixonian Queen. I kneel. The war will make her worse, and I enjoy it. One of the characters I think on-balance the show improved.

Criston: Not a good guy by any means, but dismissing him as just a resentful incel is just boring. It's very clear he was, at best, conflicted about his tryst with Rhaenyra to begin with - he liked her, they had a lot of chemistry, but he does genuinely believe in his vows. The marriage thing is obviously silly and naive, but from his perspective it's him trying to do right by her (and also preserve himself and his soul), which puts him a step above many other Westerosi men who canonically often feel no obligations to the women they sleep with outside of marriage or the children created. There is a real difference in values between him and Rhaenyra that goes beyond him hating women, even if his values aren't strictly speaking good. I'm sorry, but the fact that a Westerosi man is as sexually repressed as an average Westerosi woman is genuinely a point in his favor! I sincerely hope he and Alicent make each other worse. Substantially improved by the show.

Aegon: This is going to be controversial, but baffling/over-the-top/ill-thought-out decisions like Dyana and the child fighting pits aside, I much prefer this version of Aegon to F&B. I don't care that he's kind of pathetic, that's fun, that's drama, that gives room for character development and growth into the king he ends up becoming. It's clear the writers do want Aegon to be kind of sympathetic, but it seems they didn't consider what stuff like Dyana would do to that, which to me indicates they meant the focus of that scene to be Alicent and her behavior, not Aegon. Which is stupid. One of the worse victims of inconsistent characterization, switching between vaguely sympathetic drunken frat bro to outright sex criminal every episode, or even in the same episode.

Helaena: I like what they've done with her. It's more interesting for her to be a doomed neurodivergent prophetess than just a little dumb, even though she hasn't done a ton so far. Similarly, in an RP I was a part of, Jaehaera was depicted as not simple, just autistic and it was much more interesting.

Aemond: BORING! Don't care about this guy, sorry. Maybe I'll like him more when he is pathetically down-bad for Alys Rivers, but right now he's just like budget Daemon to me, who I also find boring. He was more interesting as a bullied teen.

Larys: He's a tough guy to adapt because his motivations are kind of nonsensical behind a vague idea of getting back at Rhaenyra (?) for dishonoring his brother (??) by putting his children in line for the throne (???). The foot thing is kind of gross and I do wish they'd have given him an actual motivation but whatever. The actor's good and I do like him and Alicent on balance. Improved by the adaptation.

Tyland: We love our little bureaucrat don't we folks? Hope he gets more screen time later on.

Jasper Wylde: FUCK YOU SHOWRUNNERS WHY IS THE GUY WHO HAS HAD ONE LINE THIS ENTIRE SEASON PART OF THE COUP BUT NOT ALICENT FUCKING HIGHTOWER??????