#i suck at Being An Employee and don’t think i should have to do something that makes me Actuvely And Emotionally Miserable

[yourheartinyourmouth]

googling “jobs for gay idiot adhd losers who can’t do math and have no skills and have never been able to mentally and emotionally handle the responsibility of being employed” weirdly didn’t bring back any results???????????

[nightghoul381]

Robin Doesn't Know the Evil Hiding in the Shadows ~ Ellis Twilight ~ Epilogue

This a fan translation so it is definitely not 100% accurate. I do not own anything related to Ikemen Villains. Support Cybird by buying their amazing stories!

This chapter contains explicit content | NSFW | MDNI

CW: Nipple play, fingering, PIV

Part 1 | Part 2 | Bitter End | Premium End | Epilogue

One day, a few days after the event ended and the ‘Serial Doctor Murders’ case was solved.

(…Ellis seems to be really busy these days.)

Apparently Jude’s trading company, Raven, requires him to work day and night.

Today was no exception and he came to my room in the middle of the night.

I welcome him with a gentle smile and glance down at his profile as he sits relaxing on the bed.

Kate: “…Ellis, don’t push yourself too far.”

Ellis: “Eh?”

Kate: “You seem to be really busy lately. Have you been given any big tasks?”

Ellis: “Ah…Hmm…”

Ellis: “…I signed a new contract with Jude. This is my advance payment.”

Kate: “What?!”

(A new contract with Jude…?)

(Even though Ellis already works harder than the other employees.)

(Even so, he still made another contract with Jude, so it must be really important.)

Kate: “Ellis, what kind of contract did you make?”

Ellis: “…Do you want to know?”

Kate: “Of course! Ellis, if it’s important to you then I want to know too.”

Kate: “Besides… If there’s anything I can do, I’d like to help.”

Ellis: “Thank you. I’m glad you’d try so hard for me.”

He placed a small kiss on my forehead and gave me a mischievous smile.

Ellis: “…I wish you’d think about me more.”

Ellis: “About me, right in front of you.”

He gently cups both of my cheeks in his large hands, and soft kisses rain down on my forehead, nose, corners of my eyes… all over my face.

Kate: “Mmm…. El…lis… Mmmm”

I heard the rustle of clothes as my ribbon came undone and I was gently pushed down—

His hot lips travelled down to my neck.

Kate: “Ah, wait, Ellis…Aren’t you going to tell me about the contract…?”

Ellis: “Mmm… can you guess what it’s about?”

The seductive whisper in my ear, accompanied by a sigh, sent shivers down my spine.

Kate: “Um, well… does it have anything to do with me?”

Ellis: “Yup, that’s right.”

I tried a few questions after that, but got none of them right.

Kate: “I have no idea…”

Ellis: “…Well then, should we ask my body?”

He took my hand, gave it a gentle kiss, and pressed it against his strong chest.

The strong beating of his heart reverberated from my palm to my arm, and I strongly felt Ellis’ presence.

As I was distracted by the pounding of his heart, a shadow suddenly fell—

Kate: “…Mmm.”

My lips were sealed and the next thing I knew, Ellis’ body was completely covering me.

Ellis: “…Kate, your face is bright red. How cute.”

Kate: “I-I can’t think anymore like this.”

(Even though I have no idea what Ellis’ contract is about.)

His twilight-colored eyes staring down at me feverishly captured my thoughts.

Ellis: “I’ll give you a hint. If you have any questions, just ask?”

Kate: “Nnngh….”

My lips were stolen, my tongue sucked firmly, and my lips were entangled and played with.

(That’s not fair…)

The words I was trying to say, along with my thoughts, were all torn apart and thrown into disarray.

Just when I thought I had been released with a quick suck, he latched onto the sensitive tips of my breasts.

Kate: “Aaah…”

While I was being kneaded and sucked, I now found myself at the mercy of the fingers that slowly crept toward my lower abdomen.

Ellis: “Kate… You’re already like this.”

Kate: “D… don’t say that…”

The lewd, wet sounds aroused my shame, and it became even more lewd as Ellis’ fingers played.

Ellis: “I’m sorry… I just couldn’t resist looking at how cute you were.”

Ellis: “I want you too… Is that okay?”

His smile, thick with the scent of desire, took my breath away.

Kate: “Mmm… Okay.”

Instead of a finger, something thicker and hotter was pressed against me—

It pierced me right through.

Kate: “---ah!”

The sensation of him hit me so hard it was like a dam had burst, and the stimulation that reverberated throughout my body made it hard for me to breathe.

Kate: “Ngh, Ah… E…ll..is…aah”

I felt like I was melting and drowning in the desire that was penetrating the deepest parts of my body, so I clung desperately to Ellis.

Ellis: “Ngh, more… so tight…so… nnngh.”

The intensity accelerated, and I was swept away and engulfed in an overwhelming pleasure –until I burst.

Kate: “Hngh, Aaah--!”

Ellis: “Ngh… Being wrapped up in you, Kate… Feels so good.”

Ellis: “I want more…Lock me in, I’ll give it to you.”

His heavy breathing and dusk-colored eyes were overflowing with heat that he couldn’t control,

It reflects my true self as I melt away, blocking my option to escape.

--I surrendered to the surge of instinct that seemed to last forever,

We fell into a night of passionate desire or each other.

--

The next morning.

Ellis: “Victor’s scones are delicious today too.”

As he licked the cranberry jam from his fingertips, I was reminded of last night and was startled.

But.

(…In the end, I was never told anything about the contract.)

I was about to touch on that topic again this morning,

Ellis seemed to realize what I was thinking and gave me a sweet hug and kiss, evading the question.

(If you’re trying to keep me from worrying, you should know all the more… if this happens.)

I turn my gaze to the newspaper stood like a folding screen across from me.

Kate: “Jude, please tell me.”

Kate: “What is the content of the ‘new contract’ you and Ellis have?”

Jude: “Contract?”

Jude: “…Oh, after Ellis ‘n ya die, I’ll be in charge of that grave.”

Kate: “That grave…?”

Jude set the newspaper down on the table and stared right in my direction.

Jude: “As long as I’m alive.”

Ellis: “Fufu, I’ve been found out. Jude, please stay alive.”

Jude: “Heh… You were just waitin’ for the right opportunity ta kill me ‘til recently, ‘n ya still say that.”

--A contract to ensure that our happy ending will last forever.

That is the highest form of love that Ellis can give me.

In return, Jude apparently ordered him to work even more for Raven.

Kate: “In that case, let me help you fulfill the contract! It concerns both Ellis and I, right?”

Jude: “You ain’t an employee of Raven, are ya? I don’t think I’d hire ya.”

Jude: “But if ya insist, I’ll work ya to the bone as a fairy tale keeper.”

Jude: “… Well then, yer workin’ hard today too. The princess and her prince.”

Jude said it in a mocking way, but Ellis took it with a smile.

Ellis: “…Prince. Kate, Jude sometimes calls you a princess. I’m glad we match.”

Kate: “Jude is being sarcastic when he calls me a princess… Is that okay?”

Ellis: “That’s good… it’s a classic fairy tale ending.”

Ellis: “’And the prince and princess lived happily ever after’”

Kate: “…hehe, that’s true.”

Jude: Ya gonna keep braggin’ in front of me forever?”

Ellis: “Yes.”

And so, our days began again, heading towards that ‘happily ever after.’

Part 1 | Part 2 | Bitter End | Premium End | Epilogue

[nonovyabuisness]

28/11/2024

Reading the Twisted Wonderland Heartslabyul novel has made me realize that it’s not just Leona and Vil who almost murdered/gravely injured someone before they fully overbloted.

In fact nearly all of them did…

Riddle tried to literally skewer Ace by transforming rose bushes into lances. (It’s not that obvious in the game but it is more so in the manga and EVEN MORE BRUTAL in the novel). If Trey hadn’t used his magic, Ace would have actually died or at the very least had life-threatening injuries.

Leona tried to disintegrate Ruggie Shigaraki style (from mha). Literally about to reduce that hyena to athoms if it wasn’t for Jack.

Azul sucking out the strength/magic/life force from everyone at Octavinelle. Pretty sure that left some mental scarring for the victims at least, wouldn’t be surprised if he would have stolen Leona and Ruggie’s entire life as a punishment for destroying his contracts.

Jamil driving everyone to exhaustion and possibly heat stroke by controlling Kalim. And wouldn’t be surprised if he would have let other Scarabia students beat the life out of him when they rebelled. Technically they were trying to do that when he was controlling all of them to attack Azul and Co.

Vil trying to poison Neige, with the guilt leading him to overblot.

While not technically attempting to kill/harm anyone BEFORE the overblot.

Idia and Ortho literally tried to destroy/conquer the world so that’s something. Also Idia was letting Ortho attack the Styx employees and civilians when he was running to join Ortho in Tartarus.

Now funny enough, Malleus is the only one to not have killed/gravely injured someone BEFORE his overblot. As far as we know the only person he (and kind of successfully) killed is Ortho. Although I don’t really know if his spell stops the persons trapped in their dreams from aging or not. Since it literally stops time I think it does. Which mean Malleus is currently the overblot with the least amount of bodily harm (done outside of dreams and to non-robotic beings). Although that will probably change soon…

Anyway it’s 10pm I should probably sleep…oh no

[gretavangroupie]

The Ripe and The Ruin - (Chapter 2)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader, OC x Reader

Word Count: 15.7k

Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Smoking, Angst, Anxiety, Embarrassment, Lying, Sexual Themes, Kissing, Touching.

Find the Playlist Here: Apple Music | Spotify

A new series in collaboration with my talented co-writer @gretavanmoon.

"Like all good fruit, the balance of life is in the ripe and ruin."

JAKE POV

“Did you hear me, Jake?”

Your head snaps to the side, your mind refocusing on the conversation being had around you. Josh stares at you with a questioning look on his face, his arms crossed against his chest. 

“What? Yeah,” you lie, “That sounds fine.”

“You’re not even listening to me. I asked if you knew what time the van was supposed to be here... What’s up with you? Where are you this morning?” he asks, his tone a little more defensive than usual. 

“Huh?” Your eyes flick back to the elevator, your heart beating a little faster than usual as the caffeine starts to swirl around in your bloodstream. You know that any second Y/N is going to step off that elevator and join the rest of you in the lobby. 

You can’t seem to shake the kiss from your mind, falling asleep last night playing it over and over in your head. The way her lips felt, soft and warm and so pink. You aren’t really sure why you decided to do it. You weren’t going to, but you’re glad you did. You’d thought of nothing else since, and after the little exchange you had after the fact, you were feeling something that you didn’t feel too often, if ever. Nervous.��

You didn’t even know what you were going to say to her today. What do you say after something like that? Should you say anything at all? You know you pushed a professional boundary last night, on the very first night no less. She is your employee, and you are her boss and those two things typically don’t mix well. But you felt something, something you haven’t felt in a long time, and you are certain she must have felt it too. 

You look back to Josh, suddenly realizing that if you’re feeling nervous, he’s going to pick up on it. You try to compose yourself, adjusting your jacket on your shoulders and your sunglasses on your nose before turning your full attention back to him. 

“Sorry, just jet lag. I think it’s supposed to be here at 10:00,” you pause, glancing at your watch. “It’s 9:56 right now.”

“Since when do you wear a fuckin’ wrist watch? Are you eighty-five?” he quips, huffing a laugh. 

You suck your teeth at him, raising a brow. “Since now, fuck you.”

He changes the subject, turning to Sam and Daniel just as the elevator chimes and the doors start to open. Your heart is beating erratically at this point, and you curse yourself for it. You should not be feeling like this. It was one kiss, Jake. It didn’t even mean anything. It was for show.

Right?

You swallow nervously, licking your lips as people start to step out of the elevator. You try to look like you’re engaged in the conversation happening in front of you, but you’re not. She won’t know that though. Your eyes are fixed on the elevator, waiting for your first glimpse of her this morning. She’s one of the very last to step out, her hair hanging in her face as she focuses on her phone. You hear Paul call her name, waving her over towards him and Wes with paperwork in hand. 

She looks up just long enough to spot them, returning her gaze to her phone to finish up whatever it is she’s doing. She steps up to them, just out of your immediate sight, but you can still hear them talking as they greet her. Out of the corner of your eye you see Paul hand her the piece of paper he was waving, telling her that the venue has the official hospitality rider, but that the highlighted items needed to be picked up and brought to the venue by her. A chill runs up your spine. What did you request? Why can’t you remember what you asked for? Fuck. 

She turns her head as Wes and Paul continue to talk. You can feel her eyes on you, burning into the side of your head as Josh drones on about German water quality. You want to look at her, in fact, you’re dying to see that same pink blush that colored her cheeks last night, but you don’t turn your head. You force yourself to pretend she isn’t even there. You stare off into the distance, letting your mind wander, the noise around you turning into a hum. 

“Jake…” Josh shouts, snapping his fingers in front of your face, “Hello? Are you braindead suddenly?”

“Fuck, sorry. What…” you growl, refocusing again. 

“Get with it man, I said the van is here. Let’s go,” he answers, nodding towards the door as he follows the rest of the crew outside. 

You walk with your hands in your pockets, letting your thumb nail glide over each fingertip in an attempt to bring you back down to earth. You need to get your head right. Snap out of it. You fall to the back of the group, waiting for everyone to load into the two black vans, ready to take you to your venue for the evening. Before you could stop yourself you were looking over your shoulder for her, catching her eyes for the briefest moment before looking away. Fuck, she’s so pretty.

“You want the window?” Josh asks, elbowing your arm. 

“Huh? Yeah that’s fine…” you answer blankly, your mind still flooded with the image of her. As you turn back to Josh you see his focus change, locking in on Y/N as she steps up to the two of you. The very last thing you expected. 

“Hi, good morning, feeling any better?” she asks. You look to her, then to Josh, remembering he sent her out for medicine last night. You're completely frozen in place as the two of them speak, and you’re sure your face is showing exactly what you’re feeling. Panic.

Josh looks at you for a second, then back to Y/N, very obviously picking up on the nerves pulsing through you as he snickers. “Yes…I…am…Thank you again for doing that last night. I appreciate it.”

You can smell her perfume as it dances through the air, the same sweet floral smell from the plane yesterday. You can’t help but to turn your head and look at her, your eyes drifting to the column of her neck where you know the smell is even stronger. You imagine the way it would feel to kiss her there. The taste of her skin. The sounds she would make. The feeling of her rapid pulse beneath your lips…

Shit. No. 

“No problem at all, Josh. Let me know if I can grab you anything else,” she smiles, “I’m off to the market!”

She looks at you for just a second waiting to see if you’re going to say anything, but you don’t, instead offering her a curt smile and nodding your head. Smooth. Really nice, Jake.  

She walks away, heading towards the second van with Wes and the rest of management and you feel a wave of relief wash through. You had a little more time to get your head right before you talked to her. You let out a breath, your eyes flicking over to Josh who is looking at you with a knowing look on his face. You shake your head and walk away, ready to load into the van with your backpack slung over your shoulder. Your heart is beating fairly hard and you haven't even spoken to her. Why is she having this effect on you?

You settle on the bench seat, Josh and Ty sliding in next to you. You place your backpack between your legs and pull your phone from your coat pocket, pretending to busy yourself to avoid the conversation you already know is coming.

The app isn’t even open yet before Josh starts to speak, “Alright let’s hear it, Jake. ”

You know there’s no use in pretending to be busy, he won’t stop until you answer him. You lock your phone and slide it back into your pocket letting out an aggravated sigh. 

“Hear what, Josh? Why do you already want to start this morning, huh? Can’t I have a moment of peace?”

“Oh please, I could feel your fucking heart pounding like it was in my own chest!” He tilts his head to the side in an attempt to force the truth out of you. He knows he's got you cornered and he wants you to admit it. 

You tilt your head mimicking him, giving him a look he knows well. You nod your head, silently telling him that you’ll talk later. Now is not the time or place for any of it.

He stares at you blankly for a second, finally relenting as he turns back towards Ty. Safe for now. You needed to figure this out, quick.

You ride to the venue, listening to everyone’s conversations but offering very little to them. You scroll through your phone, trying your best to keep to yourself, but perking your head up as Josh grabs your attention. 

“That reminds me, I talked to Paul. He said it’s going to take a week or so to get more security over here. Corri said she applied for the work visas this morning. Should have some guys over here in less than a week at the latest.”

“Good. Could’ve used someone last night,” you grumble, immediately regretting even letting the words slip from your mouth. 

Josh’s head snaps over to you, a serious look in his eyes. “What do you mean? At the airport?”

You know you can’t lie. He will know immediately. “No, um– Just after we checked in. It’s nothing.”

“Last I talked to you, you were ordering room service and going to bed?” he asks, genuinely confused. Fuck, fuck, figure it out Jake.

“Yeah, I did, just— A little thing late last night. Everything ended up being fine. Isolated incident. We’ve got more security coming, it's all good,” you say, hoping he won’t press you on it any further, but as he looks at you with a threatening scowl you know you’ll be recounting every last detail before the day is through.

—

Show days always bring along chaotic mornings that slowly mold into semi-peaceful afternoons, filled with warming your fingers up and psyching your mind up to perform. The four of you always try to keep show days generally the same, with giving yourselves a little bit of downtime before you have to arrive back at the venue after sound check. Today though, the day of the very first show, has already made your head feel like it is going to spin right off your neck. You can feel Josh’s prying eyes watching your every move, waiting for the opportune moment to jump down your throat again. 

“Gonna go grab something to drink from the green room, you guys want anything?” Sam asks you and Josh as you fumble around with the wireless mechanisms on your guitar. 

“Nah, I’ll get something in a minute,” you reply, watching as he and Danny descend the stairs off the stage and disappear out of sight. 

Of course, within seconds your twin is inches from your face, somehow making himself seem bigger than you. “Alright, you gonna tell me about this little incident last night? Or am I gonna have to force it out of you?” he presses, and you know damn well that if you don’t give him just the tiniest bit of explanation, he won’t let up. “Wouldn’t have happened to involve our new runner, would it?”

You sigh a heavy sigh, readjusting the blue-tinted glasses sitting on your nose. “Can you lay the fuck off for like two seconds? Jesus Christ…” you back away, anxiously rubbing your hand over your mouth as you try to think of what to even say. 

“Don’t avoid the question, asshole. Tell me now. While everyone’s gone,” he goes on, closing in on you again. 

You bite your cheeks in, still contemplating. You stay silent, instead strumming a single chord on your guitar in response to him. You hear it echo across the empty venue, smirking to yourself. Sounds perfect.

“Fuck you. Always doing that shit when you’re trying to avoid me. Drowning me out with your loud ass amps… alright. Fine,” Josh readjusts the hat on his head and stomps away across the stage. “If you won’t tell me, I’ll just go ask her.”

All the blood quickly drains from your body. “Okay, okay, fuck. Come here,” you hold your hand up and signal him back, because you know for a fact he actually would have gone and found her. You stretch the muscles in your neck, rolling your shoulder beneath your guitar strap. 

“Y/N went out to a pub last night to get something to eat and have a drink, there was some creep there trying to take her home, wouldn’t let up. She didn’t tell Dean where she was going because it was so late, and she remembered I had… She had my number, so she asked me to come and walk her back to the hotel. That’s it.”

Josh eyes you with his lips pursed closed, trying to get a read if there was anything you were leaving out. He’s gonna know, of course he’s gonna know…

“...That’s it?”

“That’s it,” you concede. “It happened really fast and the place was just around the corner from the hotel. I made it there in like two minutes. Guy was being a complete asshole to her,” you shake your head in disgust at the memory. 

Josh crosses his arms across his chest as he exhales, squinting his eyes. “Mmh, so you played hero, huh? I think there’s more to the story than your little rescue mission… but. So she just happened to have your phone number, and no one else’s? Like Paul’s perhaps?” You really need him to quit with the attitude. 

“We sat together on the plane for like, a hundred hours, Josh. Yes. She has my phone number because we were talking about her job duties. She will get the rest of yours eventually, I’m sure. I was just first. Fuck…” you begin to wave him off as you start to feel overwhelmed with his twenty questions. 

Luckily, Sam and Danny are coming back onto the stage now, the pounding of Danny’s repetitive kick drum drowning out the sound of Josh’s persistence. 

Josh’s eyes are squinting at you again as he takes the microphone in his right hand, turning away from it just enough for you to hear him. “I’ll get to the bottom of this. As a wise man once said, it’s very interesting…”

—

HER POV

Your legs carry you quickly through the winding halls to the green room. You can barely see over the brown paper bags in your hands, loaded full to the top with the items on your list this morning. It was a little more difficult of a task than you anticipated, but the translator app on your phone proved to be your best friend. You knew you had to be quick and you did your best, hoping that the items you found would suffice. 

You push the door open with your foot, looking for the empty table where the items needed to be set up. You saw a few things that the venue provided sitting on a mostly empty wooden table, and knew that’s where you needed to set up. You plop the heavy paper bags down, smiling as you notice a few drinks have already been scavenged. 

You begin pulling things from the bags, setting up the fruit and vegetable trays, and starting to place a variety of drinks into an ice bucket. You pull the paper list from your back pocket, making sure you have everything out for each guy and that you didn’t miss anything in your hurried state. As you make your way down the list you hear the door swing open and a rumble of voices enter the room. 

You turn to find Josh stepping into the room with Jake flanking him as they talk. Your breath instantly catches in your chest as you make eye contact with Jake through his tinted sunglasses. His hair is a little more wavy today, curling up at the ends and resting just below his shoulders. It looks soft and you know it probably smells good as it flies through the air as he walks. His black button up is hanging loosely on his body, a sliver of his chest visible, but you tear your eyes away from him and turn back to your task. You’re at work. 

“There she is! How’s it going, Y/N? Things goin’ your way this morning?” Josh asks, walking over towards you with a smile. 

It strikes you as strange, his over friendly greeting, especially when you’d talked more to Jake than to him and Jake hadn’t even said hello to you today. You shake off the feeling and return the sentiment, turning to face the both of them. 

“Hi guys! Everything is good I think! Just getting all of this set up for you, sorry it took me so long. I was struggling with the German labels,” you smile, letting your eyes flick over to Jake. He’s standing quietly behind Josh, not saying much but listening intently, eyes locked in on you. 

“Oh, no you’re fine, no rush at all. We’ve got hours until we go on,” he pauses, turning to Jake then back to you. “I heard about the little incident at the bar last night. Glad everything turned out okay for you, but just wanted you to know we’ve got some more security coming this week. Should have someone that can head out with you from now on,” Josh finishes, nodding his head. His phone starts to ring before you can respond and he quickly pulls it from his pocket, glancing down at the screen with a sly smile.

“Ahh, it’s Ty, I gotta take this. I’ll be back. Thanks for this, Y/N. Looks great!” he says, swiping a water bottle from the table and making his way out of the room as he answers the call. 

You realize quickly that Jake did not follow him and is standing with his hands in his pockets eyeing the table behind you. Your mouth feels dry, any words you thought you would say suddenly stuck in your throat. You turn around and busy your hands trying to think of anything you can say that won’t sound stupid. 

Your heart is pounding rapidly as you feel him moving towards you, taking the place next to you as he taps his fingers across the wooden table. He doesn’t say anything, but you can tell he is struggling in the same way you are. The tension between you is almost tangible.

You reach into the paper bag, pulling the box of beers from the bottom and setting them on the table. You knew this had to be his request, the rider stating that a case of local craft beer was required. 

You push the box in front of him, looking at him as it slides across the table. “This was what was recommended for local beer. Was the best I could find, I didn’t know if you liked light beer or dark beer, so I guessed. The cashier couldn’t have been a day over nineteen, so I didn’t exactly trust his opinion, but–” 

You watch his face shift into a smile, a dimple popping out on his cheek as he nods through a laugh, “This looks great, really.”

“Again, I couldn’t read anything in German, and the translator was really no help on this one,” you smile, feeling the tension between you starting to melt away. 

He opens the box, pulling out the amber colored bottle and bringing it close to his face. He looks at it for a few seconds, attempting to read the label himself before finally shrugging his shoulders. “No clue what that says, but looks perfect. Thank you, Y/N.”

You feel yourself blushing at the sound of your name leaving his lips, and you hope he can’t see the heat spreading across your cheeks. He picks up the bottle and places the lid on the edge of the table, hitting it with his fist with just enough pressure to pop off the lid. It skitters across the table as he brings the bottle to his lips, taking a long pull of what you now see is a light beer. 

“S’perfect,” he says, swallowing it down.. “You uh, you wanna try it?”

You feel a flash of panic wash over you. You can’t, right?

“I don’t think I can? Right? I’m at work. And I have like a thousand things to do,” you stammer, dying to say yes. 

“S’just me, I won’t tell if you don’t,” he offers, peering at you above the frames of his sunglasses. You can see his brown eyes staring into yours, and you feel your insides melting into putty. You know you need to change the subject, and quick. 

You quickly decide to decline the beer, knowing that you need every single ounce of clearheadedness for the evening you are about to endure. “Are you guys done already? That seemed… quick,” you pose, trying to turn your attention back to your duties to fill the awkward silence. 

“Uh no, not quite, they’re just working with Josh right now,” he answers, stuffing his free hand in his pocket and taking another swig of his beer. 

“Ah,” you reply, slotting a strand of hair behind your ear as the awkwardness continues to grow. You know he’s just being nice, but you wished to god he would just go somewhere else to save you both the anxiety of acknowledging the elephant in the room. Alright. Get it together, Y/N. You’re both adults, just speak your piece and get it over with. You take a quick breath, preparing yourself. “So, what version of the story did Josh get?”

Jake nearly spits out his beer as your words hit him. “What? What story?” he asks, wiping the dribble of beer off his chin. 

“I know you told him about last night, he’s being so overly nice to me it almost seems fake. He’s buttering me up, isn’t he?” you say, a bit of bite in your tone. Truly, you wonder exactly what Jake told him, and if it was the same story you remember.

Jake sucks his teeth as he looks away from you. “A very condensed one. Don’t worry.” His words are blunt and pointed. 

“Okay… so he doesn’t know about… ya know…” you dance around the word, you don’t even dare even say it. 

“No,” he cuts you off. “No. I didn’t go into that much detail. It… it didn’t even matter anyway, right?”

…It didn’t matter? 

It didn’t matter. Oh. 

“Right. No. Didn’t matter at all,” you agree, feeling the knife turning in your chest. “We had to do what we had to do to get out of there.”

“Yeah, was nothing.”

Nothing?

It’s quiet and awkward again as you try to brush off your feelings, suppressing the memory of the feeling of his lips on yours, his hands on your waist, his body pressing up against yours…

You’ve kissed a lot of people in your life, and you’re mature enough to know the difference between when someone wants to kiss you, and when someone just…is kissing you. And though you hate to admit it to yourself, Jake wanted to kiss you. There was no doubt about it. Chemistry is tangible. And the tension that formed between you last night during those few short seconds was nothing short of it. Pure chemistry. Ease. Like it was natural. And you weren’t too dumb to realize it.

But… apparently he was. 

Suddenly you hear the sound of the bass strumming out into the air, signaling that it was time to get things going again. 

“Right. But uh, sounds like I gotta um, get back out there. So… thanks for um, thanks for the beers,” Jake backpedals and turns away toward the door as you return to your duties, busying your mind and hands again. Fuck, that couldn’t have gone any worse. 

You watch as he slams his body into the metal exit door, but stopping short when it doesn’t budge. He pushes on it again, but it stands firm. You watch him struggle for just a few seconds before you decide to help him out. 

“Pull, Jake,” you say, stifling a laugh. 

He yanks on the handle, the door flying open before him. “Oh, yeah. Got it.”

You can see the pink rise to his cheeks as he makes his quick exit, and the laugh you were stifling finally busts through. You’d managed to get Jake Kiszka flustered. 

The sounds of the whole band echo down the hall, and you know you have a few free minutes to yourself, without the risk of one of them barging in again. Your mind drifts into autopilot as you finish setting up, replaying the last few minutes over and over in your head. 

1. Josh knows. Well, Josh knows something.

2. The kiss… apparently it didn’t mean anything to Jake. Just a careless action to get the weird man off your back. Of course it didn’t mean anything to him. He’s a famous rock star, he probably kisses girls all the time… right? And makes playlists for them. And adds his favorite songs to them just so they can listen along. And tells them that he fully intends to kiss them again. Right?

3. He was flustered leaving through that door just now. He fumbled. He blushed. People that don’t care don’t blush. That’s just basic science. 

Everything is overwhelming your thoughts; you need assistance, and you need it now. You take one last look at the table in front of you, deciding that it is to your liking before dashing out the door to the back exit. You pull your phone from your pocket and bring up Ruth’s contact, hearing it ring out just a couple of times before her voice is yelling your name on the other end. 

“Shit, about time! I’ve been fucking dying over here!” she shouts into your ear, her voice full of excitement and rush. “I’ve been scrolling their instagrams and TikToks and shit all. Fucking. Day, Y/N. When were you gonna tell me they’re all hot as fuck, huh? And they’re brothers?! Like real life brothers, except the one, right? But they were kids when they met?! Why is that so cute? Imagine having that much talent in one household. Shit, in one town! I bet their parents were exhausted like, always. And their MUSIC… hello? The guitarist is mindblowing, dude. And you kissed that man? On the lips?! Like full on contact, right? Was there tongue? Did he get into it? Where were you? I need to know all of these things in massive detail stat, bitch.” Ruth is absolutely rambling, and you know if you don’t cut her off soon, you will never get a chance to speak at all. 

“Yes, Ruthie, I kissed the hot guitarist,” you confirm quietly, glancing around to be sure you’re alone. “No, not really any tongue. We were in a restaurant, and the vibe was kinda strange, so. It didn’t last long, but god, it was hot…” you trail off, reminiscing for just a second. You’re truly unable to get the feeling of his lips out of your head. “Yes, three brothers, two twins, one honorary brother that might as well be. I haven’t gotten a chance to truly get to know them all yet, so my details are skimpy. But listen, I’m trying to stay professional, okay–”

“Hun, if you’re lip-locking with that brown-eyed man on the first day you are wayyyyyyy past professional, I’m just saying,” she wails into a condescending laugh. 

“No I’m fucking not!” you yell back, fully prepared to tell her exactly why it was warranted. “Listen, here’s what happened…” you do as she says, and go into grave detail about the events on the plane, and in the restaurant, and the sweet additions to the playlist when you got back to your hotel room. You spared no detail because if Ruth is good at anything, it’s collecting specifics and cataloging them away, only to one day effortlessly put them all together into one big beautiful puzzle laid out for you on a shining silver platter. She has a knack for thinking of things realistically rather than living in a fairy tale, and you’re thankful for it. She keeps your sometimes wandering thoughts in check. 

“Shit, babe… what are you gonna do?” her voice was calmed now that you’ve caught her up. 

“I don’t know, everything is just… happening really fast.” The early evening breeze blows your hair, and you can hear the distant chatter of their fans lined up and camping just around the corner of the building. It’s almost showtime. 

“I know what’s gonna happen,” Ruth states matter of factly. “He’s gonna add another song soon, you watch.”

“You think? He left things kind of… awkward just now, I really don’t think that he meant what he said last night, he was just caught up in–”

“Y/N, he wouldn’t say he fully intends to kiss you after you tell him to Do It Again… men lie but that seems… I dunno…” she goes on. “Just, don’t make me wait so long between now and the next thing, okay? I know you’re busy kicking ass but please keep me informed…” she begs. 

“I will babe. I actually think it’s time for me to go. I promise I will text you tonight, okay?”

“I’ll be staring at my phone. Good luck,” she replies, and you end the call with a quiet goodbye. 

—

You take special care wrapping the steaming hot tea bag around the spoon, squeezing out the water before tossing it in the trash. Your eyes scan the table for the Whiskey, pouring in a shot or so to mix with the honey at the bottom. Josh’s instructions were very clear and you have made sure to follow them exactly, not wanting to miss a single step. You stir up the boiling hot drink and push it to the side, ready to start on Danny’s. You grab the metal cup and add a scoop of ice, your eyes searching for the bottle of Tequila. 

You feel your phone buzz in your back pocket as you pour the tequila into the cup, topping it off with soda water. You pull your phone out as you wait for the fizz to subside, but the sight on the screen steals away your focus. 

‘Jake Added A Song to Your Shared Playlist: 🐥’

Oh my god Ruth was right.

You quickly swipe open the notification with shaking hands, waiting as the shitty venue wi-fi tries to load the playlist. Isn’t he getting dressed right now? Isn’t he busy? Why is he doing this?

It finally loads and you scroll to the bottom, laughing to yourself as you see the song he added two minutes ago, ‘Back In Black’ by AC/DC. You know the song well, but much like you did last night, you search your mind for what he is trying to say. You think on the lyrics, nothing really sticking out to you in regards to the situation the two of you have found yourself in, but you press play anyway, listening to the familiar and catchy intro. It has to mean something, right? You nod your head along with the song as you finish making everyone’s drinks, blushing to yourself as you realize that he was thinking about you. 

Should you reply? Is there even a response to that? You don’t even really know what he is trying to say. You pick up your phone from the table and begin to search through your favorites, seeing if there is anything that could serve as a worthwhile reply but you’re quickly interrupted by the door being flung open and Paul grabbing your attention. 

“Two minutes ‘til stage, guys are walking,” he says, and just like that he disappears again. 

You shove your phone in your pocket and snatch up all the drinks, quickly following after him with your armful of drinks. Your heart starts to race, you can feel the adrenaline filling the building, the ground is rumbling with the sound of the intro music and the screams of anxious fans. 

You position yourself at the base of the stairs, knowing they will grab their drinks from you as they make their way onto the stage. The chaos and commotion backstage is overwhelming, and you find yourself starting to pick up on the nervous, frazzled energy. Sam is the first to spot you with an eager grin, plucking the grapefruit Topo Chico from your hand as he scurries across the stage to place it on his amp. Daniel is not far behind him, drumsticks in hand as he approaches you with a shy smile.

“One of those for me?” he asks playfully, reaching for his metal cup. 

“All yours! Have a good show!” you answer, watching him walk up the stairs and towards his kit. 

The lights are starting to dim, the music growing louder as the time draws closer. You don’t see Josh, or Jake for that matter, and you find it a little strange that there was no drink request for Jake, but you chalk it up to him likely not having time to drink much during the show. Suddenly Josh appears from the hallway, a vision in white satin, looking almost ethereal. He is frantically putting in his in-ears, and reaching for his mic, eyes locking on you as you hold out his tea towards him.

“Ahh, excellent, thank you so much, let’s have a good show, yeah?” he smiles, squeezing your shoulder as he bounds up the stairs to place his drink on Danny’s platform. You’re so caught up in watching Josh float around the stage in a cloud of white chiffon and crystals that you don’t notice that Jake is walking towards you. 

When you do turn around you find him only a few feet away, the stage lights catching the black beads of his suit coat, sparkling like onyx. The satin suit is fit to his body, leaving very little to the imagination. His jacket is open, his chest bare save for a few silver necklaces he seems to always be wearing. This is the most of him you’d seen at this point, and the definition of his chest and the lingering tan on his skin has you breaking out into a cold sweat. You swallow harshly as you see the eyeliner he has added to his waterline, and you feel yourself physically backing up to brace yourself on the stair rail behind you. Holy shit.

You find yourself wishing you had a drink for him, anything actually, just to have an excuse to talk to him. His guitar tech meets him as he walks, twisting the knob on his wireless receiver and handing Jake the vintage red Gibson. He tosses the strap over his shoulder, positioning it across his body and releasing his hair from beneath the strap. You watch him as he mouths a muffled ‘thank you’ to Johnny, giving him a grateful smile as he continues to walk.  

The stage lights behind you have shifted, and the music is coming to a close. He has to be on stage in seconds but it’s as if he is on his own time, moving so effortlessly through the dimly lit wing. The lights hit him just right and his eyes meet yours in a smug grin. Suddenly the song makes sense. His suit is completely custom, hand beaded, all black satin. Fucking hell, the cockiness of this man.

You expect him to climb the stairs to meet his brothers, but instead he steps up to you, resting his hand on the body of his guitar. “Nothing for me?” he asks, arching a brow and flashing you a sideways smile. 

“The– the list! There wasn’t anything on the list for you, I–”

The lights overhead are starting to flash, the crew calling for thirty seconds through the walkie-talkies. You glance around panicked that you clearly missed the memo on a drink for Jake. Fuck!

He smiles at you as he laughs, “I’m just kidding, I don’t put it on the list with theirs. I bring my own.”

“Well where is it?!” you ask, a hint of panic in your voice.

“Ah, I left it in the greenroom. Was a bit…busy with something else,” he says, trying to stifle a smile.

You can barely hear him, doing your best to read his lips over the shrill screaming coming from the crowd. He seems to sense this, leaning towards you and placing his hand on your shoulder. His lips brush against your ear as his fingertips press into your skin. You can feel his guitar pressed against your stomach, his fingers guarding the strings, “Do you know where my backpack is?” he asks, whispering into your ear. 

You shake your head, and truth be told the proximity of this man’s mouth to your body has you unable to even remember your own name, let alone where his backpack is. 

His fingers tap your shoulder as he holds it, pulling away his head just slightly to look at you. He licks his lips and leans back in, “It’s in the corner of the dressing room, by the couch. Go find it for me? My drink is in there.”

“Jake, stage left go,” the walkie calls out, and he pulls away again, giving you a smug smile.

You look at him, taking him in completely before he steps onto the stage. “Wait, Jake! Your in-ears! Where are your monitors?!” you shout in a panic.

He smiles and laughs as his hand squeezes your bicep, tilting his head down a little and letting his eyes peer into yours, “I don’t wear in-ears, baby.” 

He pulls away quickly, sprinting up the steps, looking over his shoulder at you one last time before disappearing out of view. Baby? Did he just call you baby? Your heart is pounding in your chest as you try to catch your breath. You feel frozen in place, only spinning your body enough to watch the four of them take their places on the platform at the back of the stage. Jake is on the very end, running a hand through his hair, just as the music stops and the curtain falls in front of them. The crowd screams violently as Josh starts to speak, nodding to Jake to kick things off. 

Danny jumps down off the platform and onto his kit, as Sam prances down the steps with his bass. The guitar sounds fill the venue as Jake starts to make his way down the shiny metallic steps. His eyes flick over to the side stage, catching yours for a moment as a smile lights up his face. You are in complete shock, surely this is not the man you kissed last night. The man that was stumbling over his words today, and pushing a pull door…? 

His hand lifts from the guitar for just a second as he motions a signal for ‘drink’ to you as if he’s holding an invisible cup to his lips. You quickly snap out of it when you remember his instructions. You tear yourself away, making your way back to the green room in search of his backpack. The room is quiet when you enter, empty, not a soul in sight. You can hear the rumble of the bass in your chest as your eyes scan the room for the black leather backpack, finally spotting it behind the couch. 

You walk over to it, crouching down in front of it and lifting the flap. You unzip the top finding it full to the brim. Your hands are shaking as you carefully sift through his things. His phone is on the very top of the pile, a black leather case with an embossed ‘JTK’ on the bottom right corner. Your heart flutters in your chest knowing that he adds the songs to your playlist from this very phone. You toss it aside, continuing to look through the bag, your fingers snagging on his tangled pile of headphones. You work quickly to untangle them, wrapping the cord around itself in a neat coil before dropping them back into the bag. Your hands find a change of clothes, a pair of black pants and a white t-shirt nestled under a pair of printed black boxers. Your breath catches as you realize what you’re touching but you try not to think too much of it. Find his drink. 

Your hands feel around at the very bottom of the bag, finding dozens of guitar picks, a capo, a few hair ties, what feels like maybe his wallet, a glasses case, and a passport book. Your fingers land on something glass, and you pull it from the bag, but quickly find out it’s not what you’re looking for. This is a bottle of cologne, fairly expensive from the looks of it. You look around the room before pulling off the small silver cap, and breathing in the scent you remember from last night. Fuck it smells so good. 

Put it away, Y/N. 

You push everything over to the other side of the bag, finally spotting what you were looking for front and center. You grab the neck of the wine bottle, pulling out the entirely full bottle of Sauvignon Blanc. Interesting choice for him, but you guess you don’t really know too much about him just yet.

You quickly zip up his bag and rush over to the drink table, grabbing the metal chalice and filling it to the brim with his white wine. It sloshes over the edge a bit as you rush back out to the stage, doing your very best not to spill it in its entirety before it even makes it to him. 

You’re positively out of breath by the time you make it to the stairs, your hand dripping with the sticky wine as you watch Jake just stepping into a guitar solo. He walks across the front of the stage engaging with the crowd on the barricade, his fingers moving faster than lightning through a song you can honestly say you’ve never heard. You know you will get to know these songs very well over the next few months, and what better way to hear them than live. 

You peek around the curtain as you watch him crouch down, standing quickly to throw his head back, the faint echo of his voice as he yells to his guitar drifting to the side stage. His body is covered in sweat and his hair sticks to his neck as he catches sight of you with his drink. You hear a few people talking behind you but you can’t seem to care, or rip your eyes away from him. He is a completely different person on stage than the man you sat next to on the plane, and even in the bar last night, and to be quite honest, you didn’t know which version of him you wanted more. 

JAKE POV

The spotlight descends away from you as you finish out your solo, the crowd already going absolutely wild. It feels so good to be back here again, allowing yourself to get immersed in the feeling of the instrument in your hands and the effect it has on the people listening and watching. Sweat is already pouring from your face and chest, and you’re only three songs in. For a second, you’d completely forgotten that you’d sent Y/N on a mission for your drink. 

You hope she’s finding it, given you had kind of hidden the backpack behind a couch to stay out of plain sight. In the back of your mind, you quickly picture her picking through the bag stuffed with your things, and you smirk when you realize she probably is seeing a bit more into your personal life than she had anticipated, tonight. But for some reason, you don’t feel embarrassed by it. 

You back up toward your amps as Josh continues to sing, and you see her from the corner of your eye, standing side-stage with your chalice in hand. Oh, so she’s a good listener. Noted. 

Now that you aren’t at the center of attention, you realize you are a bit thirsty. The four of you finish out the song and the lights go down, and you take the opportunity to run to her to grab your drink. 

You haphazardly grab it as she hands it to you with utmost caution, handling it as if it were made of gold. 

“Shit!” You can’t help but laugh out loud, noticing that the rather large cup is filled all the way to the brim with your wine. You take a big gulp down to empty it a little. 

“Sorry, sorry careful, I didn’t know how much you wanted and I assumed you wouldn’t want refills!” she crams all her words together into one big sentence as you chuckle at her again. Damn, even in the dim lighting you can see how pretty she is. Your heart literally skips a beat as she finally meets your eyes. 

“S’okay, this is perfect. Thank you…” you whisper as you place a quick hand onto her waist, backing yourself away from her. Should you have touched her there? Maybe not, but it just happened. You make your way back over to set the cup down safely in a place you know it won’t spill. You make quick eye contact with Danny as he waits for you to cue him in to the next one, but his look is laced with something else, curiosity. He definitely saw your encounter. And he knows that you normally don’t place your hand ever-so-gently on your runner’s waists. Fuck fuck fuck. 

You return his prying eyes with an upturned chin, silently telling him to mind his own business. You finish out the show, feeling good again as you begin to show off just a little. You always show off, but for some reason, this time feels more important. You have someone to show off for. 

You glance to the side stage again and see that Y/N is standing with Ty, Mia, and Lyla as they watch the show. That feels strange, you think to yourself, seeing her grouped together with all your brothers’ significant others, getting along and talking closely. Your stomach churns at the thought of actually liking it. 

No, Jake. No. You know this isn’t right.

Twenty minutes later you find yourself waving goodbye to what was one hell of a crowd, and you join the other three as you descend the stairs to backstage. Your ears are ringing as you walk through the darkness toward the light of the hallway, realizing that she is the first person you see when you finally get there. She’s standing with Paul, listening to his instructions as she hands each of you a clean black towel. You’re last in line, and you grin a little as she tosses your towel to you instead of the gentle handoff she did for your brothers. 

The tiniest smile crosses her face as she keeps intent eye contact with Paul, taking in all of his words when you know her mind is racing with thoughts of you. Her face blushes with pink as you pass her. That wasn’t unnoticed, babe. 

You rush back to the green room to try and beat Danny to the shower, knowing that he is probably already stripped down and getting inside. When you find your prediction to be true, you decide to take off your jacket and kick back on the black leather couch to finish off your heavy-handed pour of wine. 

“You guys wanna go to this bar I found?” Josh proposes. 

“Bit dangerous right after a show, don’t you think?” Sam chimes as he hangs his satin jacket on the rolling rack. 

“This one is like, 6 blocks away and kind of hidden. Probably won’t be anyone there, I did some research.  Plus they have Fernet Branca. I need a few shots to keep this fuckin’ cold at bay,” Josh explains as Ty starts to help him remove the rhinestones from his face. 

“Bleugh, I don’t see how you drink that nasty shit,” Sam says with disgust. 

Josh scoffs at him. “Might be nasty, but it fucking works!”

You lean over the arm of the couch and retrieve your backpack, sifting through to find your clean change of clothes. You smile as you realize she more than likely saw your black boxers covered in flamingos. As you zip the bag back up, you notice your earbuds sitting at the bottom of the bag. They had been rolled into a perfect flat coil, with the wire tucked and tied into itself. Your heart sinks when you realize she had taken the time to sort them for you, probably remembering the mess of tangled wires on the plane. 

Should you add a song? 

No. You did already. Get it together. This woman has your mind running marathons. 

But a bar as a distraction? Perfect. 

“Yeah, let’s go check it out. I’m getting a shower,” you make the executive decision as you stand from the couch, slapping Danny’s towel-covered ass as you pass him on your way to the bathroom. 

——

“Jake, you comin’ or what?” Sam asks, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. 

“Yeah, give me a sec,” you answer, pretending to fumble through your backpack. He nods and heads out the door with Lyla, leaving you alone in the greenroom. 

You haven't seen Y/N since you came off the stage, panting, filled with adrenaline, and in desperate need of a towel. You showered quickly and changed into your clothes, hoping you wouldn’t miss her coming into the green room. You were going to ask her to join you at the bar, and you were hoping she would say yes. Though, you haven’t seen her, and now thirty minutes have passed and the van is leaving. You consider sending her a text, but remember there was no response to your last song. It had been your feeble attempt to lighten the tension from earlier in the day, so you figure you should let it be. Tonight was probably crazy for her, and you want her to ride the post show high as long as she can. 

You throw your backpack over your shoulder and make the trek to the van, finding everyone rearing and ready to hit the bar. A drink does sound good, a stiff one. You slam the door shut and let out a sigh, feeling the van pull out of the gates and into traffic. You see a few fans lined up against the fence hoping to catch a peek at the four of you, so you all wave through the window praying they won’t follow you. 

You kick yourself for being this caught up over a woman you met only yesterday. This was not supposed to happen. You wanted to clear your head, not screw it up even more. You took in a deep breath, letting it pass through your lips as the van rounded the corner and came to a stop in front of the bar. You couldn’t read the name of the bar, something foreign in burned out neon, but Josh seemed to know that you were at the right place. You all stepped out of the van, making your way into the decently crowded bar. You were thankful that no one seemed to notice you, the group of you making your way to the back of the bar and piling into a round wooden booth. 

Josh volunteers to grab the first round, and you signal to him for your usual, not needing to say a word for him to understand. Lyla and Mia instantly strike up a conversation about the show, Sam and Daniel hanging on their every word. You listen to what they’re saying, pretending to be engaged in the conversation, but your mind wanders quickly. The exhaustion of your body is starting to set in, mixed with the already present jet lag, you feel yourself spiraling quickly. You know that drink will bring you back to life though, and you hope Josh hurries. 

You wonder where Y/N is. What she is doing. What she thought of the show. If she felt that same electricity you did when you touched her. You quickly shake your head of the thoughts, returning to the present when Josh sets your drink down in front of you. 

He and Ty slide in next to you as the rest of the group starts to sip on their own drinks. You straighten in your seat, trying to give everyone a little more space as Josh starts to speak. 

“Hell of a kick off…” 

“Yeah, no fuck ups either,” Sam adds, elbowing Danny. 

“Jake? Notes?” Josh nods, waiting for you to add your two cents.

“Yeah, yeah I think it was a good show, need to keep that energy for the rest of the run. Think that transition from Heat Above to Highway could be a little tighter if we’re gonna keep that on the set, but–” 

“You seemed especially talkative tonight, thought I was gonna have to turn my monitors up to drown out your screaming,” Josh jokes. You cut your eyes at him in annoyance. It’s not like you could help it. 

“Only screaming to drown out the sound of your voice, brother,” you quip, taking a sip of your drink. Tequila soda, extra lime.

“Please, I think you were just having a little Jake moment because of a certain someo–”

“Fuck off, Josh, seriously,” you spit. 

“Oh, who, the runner? Y/N?” Danny asks, turning to face you with a shit eating grin. 

“Yep.” Josh answers, popping the ‘p’.

You send a threatening look to Josh, and he knows he needs to drop it. “I don’t know what you’re all on and on about. Can you just drop it? Christ.”

“You sure man? I saw that little exchange side stage. Looked more than friendly,” Danny adds, and of course you knew it was coming. 

Lyla sends you a questioning look, and you quickly look away before she has time to examine things any further. Her gaze travels to Mia, the two of them looking at each other before turning back to you. 

“Anyway, Daniel…you and Sam need to watch my cue for Highway, I’ll let Josh do his little spiel, he’ll signal me, and I’ll signal you. I don’t think anyone noticed tonight, but let's not do that again, yeah?”

Everyone nods in agreement as you toss back the rest of your drink in frustration. You motion for Josh and Ty to let you out, desperate to get out of this booth and get another drink. You make your way to the bar, standing amongst the other patrons waiting their turn. You pull your phone from your pocket, hoping to see something, anything from her, but it's empty, the same as it was ten minutes ago. Should you text her?

No. Stop thinking about her, fuck. 

You order a new drink, a double this time, hoping it will help you clear your head of this woman. You weave through the crowd with your drink in hand as you make your way back to the table, however when it comes into sight you see none other than Paul, Wes and Y/N standing in front of it. 

You take a large sip from your glass, clearing your throat and trying to regain your composure. You definitely weren’t expecting her to show up. A wave of nerves washes over you as you see her standing there, dark jeans and a black top, her hair hanging down her back in waves. Your eyes travel straight back to her ass, hugged so perfectly in her jeans you almost have to head to the bathroom to fix yourself. You drag your eyes back up towards the table, your chest growing warm as you watch her talk to Josh, secretly wishing it was you. 

You approach the group, laying a hand on Paul's shoulder to get his attention. He turns to you and shakes your hand with a smile, followed by Wes. You slide into the booth next to Mia, setting your drink in front of you as Josh continues to talk to Y/N. 

“Y/N, why don’t you hang with us? We’re more fun than these old guys,” Josh laughs, playfully slapping Paul’s arm. 

She turns to look at Paul who is shrugging his shoulders and nodding, “Wouldn’t hurt to get to know these fools.”

You can see a look of hesitation on her face, her eyes flick to Josh and Sam, then to Daniel and finally to you. They linger for a second before she nods her head, agreeing to spend her evening with the group of you. She takes a seat next to Ty as he pushes Josh over to make room for her. You smile a little watching her get settled, pushing her hair behind her ear as she nervously peers up at you from across the table. The corner of your lip turns up as you look at her, and hers does the same. You know that all eyes are on you now, though, so you try to seem as casual as possible. 

“You need a drink?” you ask, letting your eyes meet hers, almost sparkling in the bar lighting. So fucking pretty, fuck. You are so, so fucked.  

She shrugs and nods, looking around at what everyone else is drinking as she bites her lips. “How about a Tito’s and Sprite, two limes?” she asks, almost as if nervous to say it.

You nod your head once, silently commending her for not ordering a fucking cranberry vodka. 

“Got it, anyone else?” you ask, looking at the group as they shake their heads. 

“I’ll be back,” you say, standing from the booth and making your way back to the bar you just came from. You don’t have to wait long this time, ordering her drink and making sure they don’t skip on the limes. You’re kind of glad you are the one getting her drink, giving you another minute or two to shake the nerves in your system that arose just from seeing her. 

You glance over your shoulder towards the booth, watching as she talks animatedly with everyone at the table. You feel a little twinge of happiness as you look at her, seeing her fit in so effortlessly with the group. You grab the glass off the bartop and start to make your way back over to them, weaving through a thick crowd of people congregating in the middle of the bar. 

You place her drink in front of her before taking your seat again, her cheeks blushed pink as she looks at you. “Just let me know how much and I can venmo whoever.”

“Oh, no, don’t worry about it. I got it,” you answer, giving her a tight lipped smile. 

“I was just telling Y/N that I’m gonna have to fire Mia and hire her to start making me drinks from now on. Your wine glass was practically overflowing all night,” he laughs as Mia scoffs. He tosses his arm around her, kissing her cheek as he whispers in her ear. 

“To be fair, I did drink it all,” you offer, tipping your head towards her. Her cheeks are red, and you can tell she’s a little embarrassed about the whole thing. She sips at her drink, swallowing down the bubbly alcohol. You can see her tension ease a little as she puts down the glass, her eyes meeting yours again. The moment is quickly zapped as Josh grabs her attention. 

“You know, I did happen to look over and see you a few times. Seemed like you were enjoying the show,” Josh pauses, smiling at her, “Thought I was going to have to come pick your jaw up off the ground after The Archer.”

Her face blushes a deep red now, clearly embarrassed that Josh caught her in what she thought was a private moment. Part of you wants to jump over the table and choke him, but you don’t, just clearing your throat instead to warn him. Y/N sips her drink a little faster now through a laugh, clearly needing it to kick in a little quicker. 

She was really watching you? 

“Yeah, you were kinda on one tonight, weren’t you Jake?” Daniel adds, chewing the end of the straw in his drink. “They were crazy over on your side. You were givin’ it to ‘em.”

“S’that why you were showing out tonight? Trying to impress all your little fans?” Sam adds, quirking an eyebrow at you. 

Josh scoffs a laugh and raises his eyebrows, looking over to Y/N, “Oh, I’m thinking it was someone else entirely, Sammy boy.”

Instinctively your foot connects with his leg as you kick him in an effort to shut him up. Your eyes flick over to Y/N, clearly uncomfortable and deeply embarrassed, on her first night no less. Her eyes start to flick around the table as everyone looks at her, before falling down to the table as she runs her finger around the rim of her glass. 

“Don’t listen to them, Y/N,” Mia jumps in. “They spend 50% of their time bagging on each other and the other 50% trying to embarrass us.” Her act of heroism obviously makes Y/N feel a little more comfortable, and you realize that sometimes you and your brothers truly have no filters at all. “Just tell them to fuck off.” She adds a wave of her hand through the air, showing that she was used to it, now. 

“Oh shit, heard about your little situation at the bar last night, Y/N. Heard there was some trouble,” Sam says, leaning into the table as the volume of the crowd starts to drown him out. “Glad Jake was able to come to your rescue.” God damnit, do they ever shut up?

“Oh yeah, Y/N you can always call Dean and tell him where you’re going so you don’t have to deal with Jake if you need something. I’m sure Dean is a lot more pleasant than Jake is at midnight, anyway,” Josh barks, sending another shooting wave of annoyance through your chest. Little did he know that you were perfectly fucking pleasant with her at midnight last night. More than pleasant, actually. 

“I’ll remember that next time, Josh,” she replies, a little sound of defeat in her voice.

You know what Josh’s next move is going to be, he’s going to start prying her with questions of what exactly happened. He knows you gave him the condensed version, and knowing him, he’s bound and determined to get the truth out of one of you. So you decide to stop him before he starts. 

“Yeah, it wasn’t a big deal, I had just downed a drink before she texted, I hardly remember telling the guy to fuck off. We can just pretend the whole thing never even happened, right Y/N?” you propose, immediately regretting the words as soon as they slipped from your mouth. You didn’t want to pretend it never happened. You’ve relived it over and over and over since it did…

Her face falls a bit as she nods her head. “Yeah, no. Never even happened. I’ll…remember not to bother you next time. Knee-jerk reaction.” Her voice is a bit pointed as she tries to defend herself without being too bitchy about it. You watch as she bites the insides of her cheeks, probably wanting to lash out at all of you. She felt threatened by that guy, and she called for help. You feel like shit, she texted you because she was panicked, and was most familiar with you… hell, you’d just spent an entire day on the plane together. She probably doesn’t even have Dean’s number yet…shit. Your choice of words had bitten you in the ass yet again. You’ve definitely fucked up. 

But the guys absolutely can not know that you kissed her…

The conversation thankfully takes a turn and you’re able to disassociate from it for a minute, watching as she struggles to stay involved, while also completely avoiding eye contact with you. Yeah, definitely fucked up. 

She finishes the rest of her drink and slides out from the booth, excusing herself to the restroom. She flips her hair behind her shoulder and tosses her purse over it too, and you find yourself wishing that you could reach out and grab her hand to stop her. Her eyes stay fixed to the floor as she flits away into the crowd, completely disappearing from your view. 

The minutes pass by as you flow in and out of the conversations, your subconscious reminding you every so often that she isn’t back yet. Your eyes repeatedly scan the crowd and over to Paul and Wes, and each time you find them still seated alone at the bar. Where did she really go? 

You start to get anxious as you finally decide to say fuck it. You pull the tiny pointless straw from your drink, biting it between your teeth as you pull your phone from your pocket, bringing up her text thread. 

You

12:29AM: Where did you go?

You chomp the straw nervously as you move it around in your mouth, feeling it poking and prodding against your gums. You watch your message turn to read, but no reply bubble pops up. You’re facing the door, and you haven’t seen a soul pass through it, so you know she hadn’t snuck out. Seven entire more minutes go by, and you realize she’s not going to respond. You need to make this right. You need to tell her last night meant more than nothing to you. 

Suddenly you get the brazen idea to go ahead and add another song to the playlist, thinking that maybe since it worked last night…

You pull up your music app and hit the search box, already knowing exactly what song you are going to add. ‘Go Outside’ by The Cults. Perfect. Straight and to the point. 

Josh continues to finish out a story you’d already heard twice today as your knee begins to bounce up and down with anticipation. Sure enough, a few minutes later, you get the notification that she, too, has added another song. Yes. Fucking finally.  

‘Gone’ by JR JR magically appears at the bottom of the playlist, and you can’t stop the confused scowl that crosses your face. What the fuck? There’s no way she’s gone… You’ve been watching the door…

You decide to cut the shit, and text her. If anything, you’ll apologize for how everything had gone, and let her continue on with her night. You couldn’t go another second without letting her know how sorry you were that things had gone so awry. You pull up your text thread, seeing the urgent messages from last night still present on your screen. 

You

12:42AM: I know you’re not gone, I’m facing the door. Meet me out back, please?

You don’t even stick around to wait for her reply as you lock your phone and slam it onto the table, standing from your seat to hurriedly head out to the back patio area. “I’ll be back, going for a smoke,” you announce, and thankfully, no one says they want to join you. 

You make your way to the back door, pushing through the heavy metal and into the enclosed seating area. The cold breeze almost takes your breath away. You find that it is fairly big, but thankfully completely empty. The concrete slab is lined with old picnic tables and rickety bar stools that look like they’ve seen better days. You take a seat on top of one of the tables, sliding a blunt out of your front pocket and lighting it to life, letting the smoke fill your lungs and hopefully give you the courage to speak your mind freely. 

Come on, Y/N, don’t let me down…

—

You look up from the cherried tip of the blunt, hearing a pair of boots making their way across the concrete. You look at her as she makes her way towards you, the wind blowing her hair across her face. The sleeves on her shirt are surely not thick enough to brave the cold air, and you find yourself smiling as you remember finding her in the same predicament on the plane. You blow out a ribbon of smoke from your lips just as she steps up to you, her face a little sullen and her cheeks still flushed. You didn’t know if she was going to come. You hoped she would, and now that she has, it’s time to fix things. 

She crosses her arms across her chest, her hands rubbing her arms to ward off the cold. You place the blunt between your lips as you slide your corduroy over your arms and toss it around her. She doesn’t fight you this time, she accepts it, sticking her arms through the sleeves and pulling it tightly across her chest. Your heart beats a little faster seeing her wrapped in it as you pinch the blunt between your fingers. 

“So you didn’t leave after all…” you say, turning to look at her. She doesn’t really answer you, just looks down at the glowing blunt in your hand. You can tell she wants to say something, but she’s not letting herself, and you want to know why. 

“Why did you say that you did?” you ask, flicking the ash with your thumb. 

She bites her lip as she turns out to look out into the distance. She takes in a deep breath and lets it out, turning back to look at you. “Because I was embarrassed. Those people in there? They are my bosses. You are my boss. Now, their first real impression of me is that I’m some helpless idiot that needs a man to rescue her. That I am some dim-witted awestruck groupie or something. I just– This is not the first impression I wanted to make, not with them, and definitely not with you.”

You immediately stop her, knowing that her fears are completely unwarranted. “No, no. None of that is true. None of us think that. I swear. They are just picking on you because they actually do like you. You heard Mia. You would know if they didn’t. I promise. You were amazing today, truly. You made a great first impression with them. And with me,” you offer, hoping it will ease her anxiety. 

She nods a little, giving you a shy smile as you nod back at her hoping to bring her out of her shell a bit. “Did you like the show, at least? Ignore what Josh said, he’s an idiot.”

“Yeah, yeah I did. Jake, you…” she pauses, shaking her head to try and articulate her thought, “You were like a completely different person up there, I–”

You swallow nervously, licking your lips, “Yeah that, kinda happens. I don’t know why or how, but something changes when I’m out there with my guitar. But, I promise it’s still normal me under all of it,” you respond, nudging her arm with your elbow, trying to get a smile out of her. 

She smiles enough that you let it go, but you can tell that she’s still shaken from earlier, and you know it’s time to make your amends. “The stuff inside with the guys…That’s not what’s bothering you, is it…” you pause, meeting her eyes, “It’s what I said.”

She nods a little, shrugging her shoulders as if she’s nervous to admit it, and you feel a shock of guilt run through you. You blow out a stream of smoke into the air above you, reaching your hand out to softly touch her arm as she sits on the stool in front of you. 

“It’s not true, what I said. I– didn’t mean that,” you confess, your voice a little lower and more sincere. 

Her eyes flick up to yours, “Which thing? That it wasn’t a big deal or that you want to pretend it never happened?” 

Fuck, you did say that earlier. You lean a little closer to her, letting your hand slide beneath her elbow and over her arm again, “Both. I actually haven’t stopped thinking about it. About you…about these…” you answer, bringing your hand up to cup her cheek, letting your thumb swipe over her bottom lip. “Not for a single second.”

Her lips are soft, a little wet. You can smell the vodka on her breath and goddamn if that doesn’t make you want her more for some reason. You want to taste her, but you need to devour her. 

A smile crosses her lips, as she moves closer to you, “I was kinda wondering if you were going to make good on that text, or if it was just for show.”

You huff a laugh as you flick at the blunt again, “Well, as you saw, I do enjoy the show, but I keep my word. I meant what I said last night.”

Your eyes are dark and demanding as they look into hers. You feel her hand meet yours, plucking the blunt from your fingers and placing the tip between her pink lips, “So did I.”

She takes a long drag from the blunt, holding her breath and letting the tobacco and earth flavored smoke swirl through her lungs. She places it back in your mouth, blowing the stream of smoke over her shoulder as she leans onto the table with challenging eyes. You feel her fingertips barely tap on your lips as you take the blunt back, and the icy contact sets off an alarm in your mind to get her somewhere warm. 

You hit the blunt one last time before dabbing it out on the tabletop, flicking the burnt-out paper to somewhere unknown. You stand quickly from the table, gripping her hand in yours as you pull her from the barstool. “C’mon,” you murmur, feeling the blood begin to rush through your body with anticipation. You begin leading her over to a door on the corner of the patio, again looking to see if anyone was around. 

“Where are we going?” she breathes. You squeeze her hand, realizing that you’d already intertwined her fingers with yours, just as you had last night on the walk back to the hotel. 

You pull the door open, letting the outside light barely illuminate the small bathroom. You do a quick check to make sure it isn’t trashed or occupied, and you pull her inside, shutting the door behind you. The small room is completely dark, devoid of any and all light at all, except for the tiniest sliver of ambient light coming from under the door. You stand with your hands still wrapped up in hers, and what felt like only inches away judging from the feeling of her breath hitting your lips.

“Wanna make good on my word…” you breathe, the sound of your heart racing in your ears. 

“...In a bathroom, Jake? She giggles anxiously, but you know she doesn’t really mean it. 

You let your hand follow the sound of her words, cupping her jaw again as you bring her into closer proximity. Your thumb brushes her lips again, and you can feel it trembling just a little. Or, maybe it's your hand shaking…the nerves rising up have you feeling light headed. There has never been another woman that makes you react like this. Ever. 

“Did you have somewhere else in mind?” you ask, bringing your lip between your teeth as you hear her breath catch, and feel her head shake side to side. 

You feel her tiptoe just a little bit, bringing her forehead to balance on yours. Your noses graze just barely, and her chest rests across yours, heaving steadily along with each breath the both of you take. Don’t fuck this up, Jake… 

“No, this is perfect,” she whispers, her lips finally making the smallest contact with yours. You feel all of your nerves at attention, every hair on your body standing on end with anticipation for touching her; feeling just the bare minimum of her body was already sending your nervous system into overdrive. Your fingertips tighten on her cheek as you finally close the gap, feeling her plush lips pressing into yours for the second time in twenty four hours. She’s soft and inviting, the feeling of her just the same as it was last night, except now without the element of forced surprise. She feels natural and normal, like you’re meeting her again for the first time after a lifetime spent apart. 

It’s like a dream, except the dream quickly turns into the most devious nightmare as she turns up the heat of the kiss. Her tongue presses gently into your mouth, and you’re allowed your first taste of her. Sweet and sour- her natural essence mixed with the limes that were in her drink… the smell of her perfume, the inability to see her face… it was all making your head spin and your vision blur.

The kiss is heated already, like she had been wanting it just as badly as you had. Your mouths crash onto one another's, her hands quickly finding your shoulder and waist as the smallest sound escapes her throat. She pulls you in toward her, her knee slipping in between your legs. Fuck, she feels good. You grasp her up in your arms, pulling her in more tightly as you begin pushing her backward toward the wall. You feel her gently bump into it, and you take the opportunity to move things in a bit more. 

Swiftly, but with the utmost caution, you press her body into the wall, letting your lips trail just a little further from her mouth, down onto her jawline. “This okay?” you mutter, your lips now brushing right below her ear. You feel her body react, her muscles tensing up from your words. 

You feel her head nod, “Yeah, yes. It’s… Keep–”

Her words stop short as you embrace her again, finding the kiss to have deepened even more since she gave you the go-ahead. Her hands slip up underneath your shirt, and you can feel the light scratch of her nails across your stomach. You swear you could come undone right then and there, but you hold back, taking a deep breath through your nose as you try to regain your composure. Hardly anything has even happened, and you’re already contemplating how you were going to best satisfy her tonight. 

Your hands are begging to feel her skin, so you let them… your calloused fingertips creeping up under her tight black shirt just as hers had just done, her waist thick with soft muscle under the grip of your hands. You squeeze, committing the feeling of her in your grasp to the darkest parts of your memory. Fuck, you wish you could see her. 

You part, stepping back just as you grip both of her hips in your hands, jerking her harshly into you. “Why did you say you left when you didn’t?” you ask, trying like hell to catch your breath. 

“I was leaving…” she mumbles, pressing her center right back onto you. God, fuck. “I got a phone call.” 

“From who?” you bite, your teeth clenched as you stop your eyes from rolling back in your head from the feel of her pressed against you.

“A friend.”

You huff an exasperated breath. “A friend who?”

She bucks her hips forward again, and the movement sends a surge of blood flow straight to your dick; you know for a fact she can tell how hard you are, now. “Do you really want me to answer that, or do you want to keep kissing me?”

You growl with aggravation, gripping her shoulders and pulling her away from the wall, up against the bathroom sink. You press your lips to hers again as her hands grip into your hair, pulling at the strands as you fight each other for dominance over the kiss. You can feel her fingers entangling themselves at the back of your neck as she pulls you in, unable to get you close enough. 

She breaks away for a second, and you feel immediate sadness at the loss of contact. “To answer your first question, I said I left because... I wanted to see if you would follow me.”

“I would have,” you answer with no hesitation whatsoever.

“Why?”

You click your tongue, knowing that you aren’t in a position to go into detail about your unexpected, but not unwanted feelings for her. “I can’t answer that question at the moment, but when I can, I’ll let you know,” you explain, earning yourself a pissed-off laugh from her. 

“Don’t scoff at me, little fledgling,” you tease, running your tongue up the side of her neck. She chills under your touch, playfully pushing your shoulders back. 

You reach down, gripping the backs of her thighs as you lift her onto the marble countertop, pushing her knees apart to find your place between them again. You gently jerk her forward, letting her center meet up with yours at the most perfect height. The sound that escapes her is nothing short of the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard, and you part your lips, drinking her noises in and swallowing them down to live within you for as long as she’d let them. 

You press yourself into her harder now, rolling your hips a bit as you start to lose all composure. Fuck, whenever this does finally happen, it’s gonna be good… Your hands are traveling all over her body that’s still covered in your heavy corduroy jacket, and you can feel the heat radiating from your bodies and warming up the otherwise chilled room. You want to feel her, you want to reach down and feel your clothed bodies touching one another, but you stop yourself. Instead, you grip your hands into her thighs, moving them higher and higher until they’re rested at the crease where her legs meet her ass. You want so much to keep going, keep wrapping your hands and digging your fingertips and exploring all that you could, but again, you slow your movements. 

You gingerly stop your grip, instead trailing your hands lightly from her hips, up her sides and shoulders, back up to cup both of her cheeks in your hands, slowing the intense make-out into a soft subtle kiss. 

“What’s wrong, Jake? Why–”

“Not here. Not like this…” you answer, and if you could see her, you swear you would have seen the same look of defeat as you’d seen earlier. Except this time, for a better reason than the first. You back away a little, feeling her body language fall. 

“You’re right, you’re right,” she agrees, hopping down from the sink. “This… isn’t the best setup.”

You adjust yourself in your jeans as you laugh, “Oh, it’s the perfect setup. I just… ya know…”

“People are probably wondering how you made a smoke last this long,” she whispers.

You laugh again, taking her in a sincere embrace, letting her face bury into your chest. “Yeah, exactly.” You sway a couple of seconds as the both of you come down from the heavy session, and you can still feel her heart beating erratically as she presses against you. You lurch down and take her chin between your fingers, bringing your lips to hers in a soft and sweet kiss. 

“Been thinking about doing that every single second since last night,” you admit quietly.

She laughs shyly. “Can’t believe I just made out with my boss…”

 “Hey, cut that boss shit. Paul is your boss. I’m your…”

“...Mmmmmyyy….”

“I’m the one that hired your boss. Get it straight,” you pick, feigning cockiness. 

“Oh please…” she laughs, pushing you hard against the wall in the still blacked-out room.

“Let’s get out of here,” you say as you move toward the door to make your grand escape, with all intentions to go ahead and make the trek back to the hotel by yourselves. The two of you step out of the bathroom and back onto the patio, fixing your tousled hair and unkempt clothes. As you round the corner, you’re stopped dead in your tracks as you meet eyes with the last person you wanted to see out here. 

Josh is leaned against the same picnic table that you’d extinguished your blunt on, legs crossed at the ankle as he hugs his arms on his chest. The smug fucking smile on his face was enough to turn your raging libido into straight nausea. He holds your phone into the air, shaking it side to side as the screen lights up. 

“You left this on the table, it’s been blowing up. Thought you might wanna answer it after the…third consecutive call, but now I see that you were otherwise occupied…” he snaps, his tone anything but playful. You snatch it from his hand, glancing at the screen to see a string of missed calls and texts, but most notably of them all is a text from Y/N telling you she was on her away to meet you outside. Shit. Your eyes flick to Josh’s, and you can read his expression like a book. He raises his eyebrows as he bites a smile, as if he’s saying ‘caught ya’.

You feel Y/N still standing behind you, most likely also unable to move from her stance. You watch as Josh nods to her, then brings his fingers to his mouth, motioning that he’s locking his lips, and throwing away the key. He turns and slowly walks back inside the bar, not uttering another word.

You feel her hand on your back, “Why did he do that?” she asks, a crease between her brows. 

Goddammit Josh. 

“I don’t know,” you snap, your voice a little harsher than you intended. It's a lie though, you know exactly why he did it. 

You turn around to face her, running your hands up and down over her arms to warm her up, “I don’t know what’s up with him tonight, maybe you should spare yourself. Head back early…”

She seems a little taken aback at your suggestion, stepping back a few steps. “Oh, um, yeah you’re right, I should– I should probably go. I have some... stuff I need to do anyway.”

You can feel the nervous energy flowing from her body as her legs continue to move backwards. You don’t want her to leave, but you see no way around it now.

“Be safe, call if you need us,” you say, shoving your hands in your pockets. 

She hesitates before turning away completely, almost as if she was waiting to see if you were planning to join her. You want to. You want to take her back to her room and finish what you started, but you can’t. You know Josh is waiting for you, counting each second until you step through that door. 

She stops, turning back to you, “Oh, your jacket…”

“Keep it. I’ll get it later,” you say, lifting your hand and waving.

Her eyes meet yours again as she nods, a hint of sadness beneath them. Fuck fuck fuck.

You watch her walk back inside, disappearing through the door. You wait a minute or two before you make your way back inside, seeing Josh sitting in the booth alone. You mumble a curse under your breath as you slide into the booth across from him, drinking the water of the melted ice from your abandoned drink. 

Josh is staring at you as he sips his drink, his eyes drifting over towards the bar where Ty and the rest of the group have gathered. He looks back to you as he sets his drink on the table and folds his hands together. 

“So yeah, how’s that break going, Jacob? Pretty good it seems?” he pauses, shaking his head, “You really are getting your head straight or whatever the fuck it is you told her.”

You toss your head back in annoyance. This fucker thinks he knows everything. 

“Listen to me,” you demand, your voice growing deep. “You need to stay the fuck out of it. I’m dealing with it. Do you hear me?”

He blows you off, scoffing under his breath. 

“Do you hear me, Josh,” you growl.

He drags his eyes back to yours, dark and piercing, “Yeah, Jacob. I hear you. But answer me this, when was the last time you spoke to her?”

It feels like a punch in the gut as you answer, “None of your fucking business.”

“No, no, see it is kind of my business, seeing as how you’ve been–”

“No, you know what, I’m not doing this. I’m leaving, I’ll see you in the morning,” you spit, standing from the booth and grabbing your things. 

“Don’t be that guy, Jake.”

You suck your teeth and nod at him with a fake smile as you turn to head toward the door. 

Fucking prick, thinks he gets to call the shots in everyones life. Fuck him.

The walk to the hotel is short, the cold air cutting through you like a knife, but you’re glad she has your jacket. You know that when you get it back it will smell like her, and that alone makes this icy wind worth it. 

Your mind drifts as you walk, your brain replaying the image of her in the bathroom. The way her lips felt, the way she tasted. The feeling of her skin in your hands. You have half a mind to run straight to her, pick up where you left off, but after the look on her face you aren’t sure you can. 

Your phone starts to buzz in your pocket as you draw closer to the hotel, a persistent buzz indicating a phone call, not a text. You pull it from your pocket seeing the name on the Caller ID for what has to be the fourth time tonight. You curse as you slide your finger across the screen answering the call. 

“Hello...”

“Hey baby, I didn’t think you were gonna pick up!” her familiar voice says. 

“Wonder what could have possibly given you that idea,” you gripe in response. 

“Sorry, I’m just missing you. Haven’t heard from you…” she whines. 

“Yes, Isla. That is exactly the point of a break. To not hear from me,” you snap. 

“But Jake, I thought you’d at least tell me you made it. I’ve been worried and you turned off your location and everything, I just miss you,” she continues, her voice suddenly grating on your nerves. 

“Isla, Christ…What are you not getting?”

“Do you not miss me?” she asks, fishing for a reciprocated sentiment. 

Your phone buzzes in your hand as you start to answer, pulling it away just enough to see the notification banner at the top. 

‘Y/N Added A Song to Your Shared Playlist: 🐥’

Your heart lurches in your chest when you read it, and whatever Isla is saying turns into a hum of noise.

“Jake? Are you listening to me?” she asks, her tone annoyed. 

“What? Yeah, I hear you. Look I uh, it’s late here. I just got back to the hotel. I’ll call you soon, okay?” you ask, trying to calm her enough to get off the phone.

“I know we’re on a break, Jake, but you know I still love you.” 

“Yeah, yeah I know, hey I’m getting on the elevator, I’m about to lose you. I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

You hear her sigh, “Okay, bye babe.”

“Bye,” you say, hitting the red button and ending the call. 

“Fuck me, FUCK me!” you shout, the elevator doors closing in front of you. You hit the nine button letting it carry you up to your floor. This has got to stop.

You immediately open the notification from Y/N, waiting for the playlist to load. You watch as the songs start to populate one by one, the last and most recent one finally loading as you step out of the elevator on your floor. Your heart drops as you read the name of the song you know all too well. ‘High and Dry’ by Radiohead. 

Fucking hell. How many times are you going to screw it up with this girl? 

You press play, letting the somber and melancholy tune play through the speakers as you fumble around for your hotel room key. The lyrics swirl through your ears as you realize that you did exactly what the song says. You left her high and dry in order to cover your own ass. You’ve given her a hundred reasons to never speak to you again, and you wouldn’t blame her if she did.

You make the walk down the hallway, spotting your room, but stopping short when your eyes land on her hotel room door just a few steps away. You know she is just behind that door, probably in bed, wondering what she did wrong. Fuck. 

Your mind flashes back to last night, when you wanted to kiss her again, standing at that very door. But tonight, you did. You kissed her again and fuck if it wasn’t even better than the first time. You had every intention of taking her back here tonight. Every single intention of doing whatever she asked of you. In the matter of twenty-four hours she had you completely wrapped around her finger. You’d give her anything she wanted. You want her, badly, but you just can’t seem to stop fucking it up. And now that Josh knows, you know that it will only be a matter of time before everyone knows.

You bite your lips together as you pull your room key from your pocket, looking at the shiny white plastic in your hand as your heart pounds in your chest. Your eyes flick to your door for just a moment then back to her door only a few measly steps away. The song ends as you look down at the phone in your hand.

Should you reply? Should you go to her? Should you let it be?

You know what you want to do, and you know what you should do. 

But the real question is what will you do?

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IN-CHARACTER QUOTES FROM DISCORD

UNHINGED SENTENCE STARTERS FEATURING THINGS SAID BY MYSELF AND MY FRIENDS WHILE WRITING AS OUR MUSES IN A CRACK-BASED NONCANON GROUP CHAT. This post is dedicated to Em, Liz, Tanny, Nellie, Mel, Ange, and everyone else in the server who recognizes these quotes — you know who you are 😈

CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.

SPECIFY muse for multimuses.

“   Have you forgotten that you should not steal someone’s property? ”

“   I could slap that smug look off his face right now! ”

“   Your ears are a lie. ”

“   Woah woah that's - that's a bad word. ”

“   I don’t know if it’s allowed and quite frankly I don’t care. Fuck the rules. ”

“   Time for gremlin activities! ”

“   I hate this man. Let's prank him. ”

“   We are all going on strike today I swear ”

“   Looks like I need to invest in a kid leash. ”

“   DONT BE COWARDS!! JOIN THE STRIKE!! ”

“   I support her saying what needs to be said! I am done with the silencing of women!!!! ”

“   I like the dramatics. ”

“   I did not ask for a second opinion. ”

“   You seem to be doing a great job at being a nuisance. ”

“   NO BITING MY EMPLOYEES! ”

“   do you want me to bring you cheese? ”

“   Next move, start chewing on the door frames ”

“   I like crumbs. They are like a little midnight snack in my bed at night. ”

“   if he wants to be a worm, LET HIM BE A WORM ”

“   the rest of you suck my toe ”

“   To be fair I am simply vibing. ”

“   I am going to commit a war crime! ”

“   I am manifesting being happy. ”

“   Am I gonna talk shit WITH you guys? because im down to talk shit about pretty much anyone ”

“   Who says? We shall revolt without question. ”

“   Let's just start burning stuff. ”

“   Did you just call me... small? ”

“   Can I convert you with my kazoo propaganda? ”

“   We were radicalised by The Little Mermaid. ”

“   Penny in the swear jar, now. ”

“   My last words are, bros before hoes. ”

“   The old men are trying to be trendy. ”

“   I can do whatever I want too! ”

“   Can we go one day without an interruption from an American? ”

“   I am so sorry. He enjoys conflict. ”

“   Why is he so tall? ”

“   For legal reasons, kids, that's a joke. ”

“   Would you like to fight the adults? ”

“   You're not meant to bite people, it's frowned upon. ”

“   He’s a fun killer, don't listen to him! ”

“   Ow! Stop kicking me! ”

“   I have quite literally begged you not to kick, hit, or bite today. ”

“   BUT I thought we were buds, pals, amigos, chums, friends. ”

“   Oh shiiiii someone’s in trouble ”

“   How much caffeine have you had in the last hour? ”

“   I'll be honest they wouldn't be so bad if they didn't speak. ”

“   Is this goof meant to be dead or what? ”

“   I am a witch. ”

“   This one reeks of self confidence when he clearly doesn't think before opening his mouth. ”

“  I call bullshit on that rule! ”

“   The point is I have a cane and I’m not afraid to use it. ”

“   If you slap me, I’ll cane you. ”

“   Yippee for women. ”

“   FUCK THE PATRIARCHY ”

“   Sorry for being British. ”

“   Oi who's playing that ominous music? ”

“   I'm strong because I eat carrots. Oh wait or is that to see in the dark.... it's for something. ”

“   I will say sorry when i'm caught, don't you worry. ”

“   AND YOU CALLED ME UP AGAIN JUST TO BREAK ME LIKE A PROMISE! ”

“   ... He's done for. Broken beyond repair. Someone play Taylor Swift. ”

“   Please refrain from punching one another. ”

“   He is becoming one with the spider I believe. ”

“   If anybody asks I will say I made you, then you will not get in trouble! ”

“   Can I be a girlboss too? I am not rude to women and I do what i like ”

“   Yippee for patriotism! ”

“   … i could make you guys rat costumes ”

“   Do you think if we started stealing bread we would lose our jobs? ”

“   why do British people ”

“   … you all need therapy. ”

“   Do you ever feel if you breathe the wrong way he will bite you? ”

“   I actively avoid whatever this is. ”

“   CARRY ME. ”

“   What if, and hear me out, they both promise not to do it again? ”

“   I wanna steal all his socks. ”

“   My socks were stolen! ”

“   Hey, watch it now. Only I'm allowed to insult me. ”

“   You couldn’t whisper to save your life. It’s pitiful. ”

“   Both of you are insufferable. ”

“   The law is overrated. ”

“   I’m afraid. Miss, you aren’t my type. ”

“   No. I swear on my life. I am being a gentleman ”

“   I support women’s wrongs. ”

“   ONE FOR ALL AND ALL FOR ONE!!! ”

“   GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE RIGHT NOW ”

“   He bites? Are you .. joking? Please say you're joking. ”

“   If you like piña coladas and getting caught in the rain ifyou're not into yoga if you have half a brain if you like makin' love at midnight in the dunes on the cape then I'm the love that you've looked for write to me and escape 🎶🎶 ”

[mangoisms]

circle k (back to you)

summary: in which you're just the graveyard shift employee at circle k bombarded by vigilantes.

━ chapter eleven: i am always running back to you | read chapter ten

━ pairing: tim drake x f!reader

━ word count: 4.7k

━ warnings: none

━ masterlist

━ a/n: SO SORRY.... it was the horrors (midterms). hope this chapter makes up for it because boy it is a lot of fun

The rest of the evening passes slowly.

It does nothing for your nerves, truthfully, but you keep yourself preoccupied with Wade. He crawls now and that leaves him wanting to explore every space possible. So, while Wally runs out for dinner and Linda wraps up a meeting with her editor, you watch over him and make sure he doesn’t get into anything he shouldn’t.

Dinner is deep-dish pizza—directly from Chicago. It’s all very indulgent, the way Wally can do things like that; he spoils you in that regard and you tell him as much as you wash dishes and he puts them away.

“Nah, it’s nothing,” he says, shooting you a small smile. “Besides, it’s for me, too.”

And you can tell that’s true by the four empty boxes of pizza that he ate, with two for you and Linda. 

But still. When he leaves…

It’s not just that that you’re going to miss. With or without the speed, you’re going to miss him. Him, Linda, and little Wade.

Despite not saying that—because you don’t want to be a downer, because their home is in Keystone City, not here, and you don’t want to be selfish like that—he senses the shift in your mood.

“You know,” he starts, “me and Lin were thinking…”

“That’s never good.”

He nudges you gently, grinning. You shake your head, smiling, too. You pass him a freshly-washed plate and he dries it. 

“Well, wait until you hear what we were thinking about.”

“What?”

“We think you should visit us every now and then.”

The thought that they want you around is warming, as usual. But…

“I mean, I would love to, Wally, but I can’t really afford that… Maybe, after I see how everything adds up during the fall, I can come for the holidays or something. But…”

He shakes his head. “Come on, kiddo. You think we’d say that and leave it up to you?”

“I don’t expect—”

“I know. But you should. We want to do whatever we can to see you. You aren’t the only one that’s going to miss something when we leave, you know. That’s why we’re doing this. Besides,” he grins at you, lightening up. “Who do you think you’re talking to? I can get you to Keystone in under a minute right now.”

Considering that Linda has told you that his speed is efficient but leaves one with a horrible bout of nausea and vertigo—at least in the beginning; she’s barely affected these days—you feel some mild apprehension.

But those things are temporary. You can withstand that, if only to see them again.

“Or,” he goes on, “we can fly you out, but that would honestly be pretty cumbersome and would also take too long.”

“It’s a plane, Wally. That is the fastest form of transportation we have in this country.”

He sniffs. “I’m the fastest form of transportation we have in this country. In the world! One of them, anyway.”

“Well, that’s how we normal human beings function. Not everyone can run faster than the speed of light.” 

“Not everyone should,” he agrees. “I’d lose my appeal. That would suck.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“So, is that a yes or—?”

“Alright,” you relent, smiling. “How often are we talking?”

He smiles a tad bashfully. “Once or twice a month? You can come on the weekends… Just—you know. I know you’re gonna be busy with classes but…”

“It sounds like I should be getting a nice break every month if we do that. I mean, I can’t promise I won’t have work—”

“Just as long as you’re around, kid. That’s all we want.”

Your face warms at the earnestness in his words, embarrassed, though you know you really shouldn’t be. “Wally.”

“Hey, I’m gonna be honest with you. I’ve been in this game too long to try and dance around feelings. Hopefully your boy will learn that, too.”

“You aren’t wrong,” you mutter, shutting off the water and drying your hands, making a mental reminder to put on some lotion before they get annoyingly dry from the hot water and dish soap. “I’m just not… used to that.”

He shrugs, tossing his dish towel over his shoulder. “Like I said. In a world like ours… it’s important.”

You don’t disagree. But you can’t rail too hard on Tim. Questionable decisions regarding his feelings aside, the both of you only came to your senses after he had a close-call today. What does that say about you, that he has to nearly die for you to realize you need to see him again? Need to clear the air? 

It’s human, you think. So very terribly human of you.

It’s not like you’re unappreciative of him in your life but… you know this dance and song. You only realize what you have when you lose it. Look at your parents. You’ve slipped right now but you’ll fix it. You’ll make sure he knows how much he means to you.

But more importantly, right now…

“You guys… mean a lot to me, too.” You turn, seeing Linda pause near the island, and meet her brown eyes and even though it makes your face hot and the words get stuck in your throat, you force them out, underpinned with what you hope they can tell is sincerity. “You do. So much.”

Your throat tightens and you duck your head as your eyes burn. 

Hard to quantify. Hard to put a label on what they mean to you.

But you know that much. That they mean the world to you. 

Warm, strong arms come around you, squeezing you tight. You sniffle when you feel Linda come up behind you, squeezing you, too.

It’s an emotional day, you decide. For all of you. 

So, you take a long shower to try and pull yourself together, then head to bed, bidding Wally and Linda goodnight.

You don’t intend to fall asleep when you crawl into your bed. It’s better to stay up, to wait for Tim to get here. But the day’s events start weighing down on you as you curl up beneath the blankets.

You try valiantly to stay awake by scrolling on your phone but it’s a Sisyphean task to do so. As your eyelids grow heavier and heavier, you know it will be a task that you fail as you stop fighting and give in to sleep.

It’s only the vibration of your phone that rouses you. 

Groping for it, the display is obscenely bright in the darkness of your room. But the text waiting for you is unmistakable, impossible to miss.

i’m here

Suddenly recalling what you and Tim had agreed upon, you shoot up in bed, ignoring the head rush the action gives you. 

The window that leads out to the fire escape is right next to your bed, covered by curtains. You toss your phone aside, rolling out of the warm cocoon of blankets; the AC in this place works well, a little too well, you think groggily as your bare feet connect with cold wood floors. 

You shove aside the curtains and though you know who is waiting for you, that it is Tim, just Tim, your best friend, the still-not-fully-awake part of you clenches up in fear, thinking it might be Batman that is moving in the shadows, only barely illuminated by the full moon. But you know better than that.

It helps that your eyes are already adjusted to the darkness, recognizing the figure crouched in your fire escape. Dressed in… oddly enough, sweatpants, a t-shirt, and a light jacket. Completed with a plain black domino mask—not the usual one he wears, more akin to Robin, save for the color—that obscures the blue eyes you know and love.

You reach for the window. Well-oiled and taken care of by the owners, it is virtually silent as it slides open. 

Muggy July heat rushes in, chasing away the cold.

Without the window and with your vision quickly clearing from bleariness, you can really take him in. The tension in his body, the way a breeze ruffles through dark hair, the twitch of his hands to you before they clench into fists. Waiting. 

For you. 

Your throat thickens painfully when your eyes snag on the white gauze taped to the left side of his neck. 

Just a graze, Steph told you. But he lost a bit of blood anyway and his neck… if it had been the right side, would he not be here right now? Maybe it doesn’t matter. It’s his neck, there are so many important arteries running through there. 

If anything else had happened, if he’d moved even a little bit, he wouldn’t be here.

That realization, coupled with the overwhelming emotions at seeing him again since everything, pushes you over the edge.

Your eyes burn with tears. You reach forward, ignoring the soreness in your belly, one hand grabbing his wrist and tugging him right into the circle of your arms. 

That breaks the stalemate. He goes quickly, arms sliding around you as the first of your tears start sliding down your cheeks.

“Tim…”

He holds you tighter, impossibly warm, letting out a shuddery breath and whispering your name, too, everything inside you shivering at the sound, at the warmth that wraps up the syllables of your name. 

“I’m okay,” he breathes. “I’m okay, I swear.”

“You were shot.”

An exhale of a laugh. It sounds shaky with emotion.

“Technically, I was grazed.”

“Tim.”

He presses his nose to your hair, hand stroking up your back.

“I’m okay,” he whispers, lips brushing your forehead. “I wasn’t going to die before I got to see you. No way.”

You sniffle. The two of you are quiet, speaking lowly, but you’re suddenly too aware of the other window on the fire escape, the one for Linda and Wally’s room. You don’t want to wake them—or god forbid, Wade—so you reluctantly extract yourself from his arms, tugging him again.

He follows easily, sliding through the window with a grace you aren’t used to. He shuts the window silently behind him, banishing the muggy air that had leaked inside. You wipe away your tears, attempting to piece yourself together. 

As he turns back to you, hesitantly now, the air conditioner clicks on, and a second later, cold air starts blowing into your room. It should help cover your voices a little bit.

For a moment, it is silent. 

Tim shifts on his feet across from you. The domino mask renders him impervious. Impossible to read without seeing his eyes.

But not totally impossible. The way he bites his lip doesn’t just draw your attention to his mouth, tempting, traitorous thoughts briefly crossing your mind, but it also clues you into his nervous state. 

“I’m sorry.”

He speaks first, blurting the words out, seeming almost surprised at the way they escaped him before he decides to go with it, doubling down on it.

Taking a deep breath, he looks at you, whispering your name. “I’m sorry. For lying to you. For coming to you as Red Robin instead of myself. For everything. I just… I didn’t know how to handle it.”

“I know,” you sigh. “I know.”

You were in that position, too. You didn’t fuck it up this badly but… you each had your parts to play. No one is blameless here.

“I just,” he stops, looking away, hands clenching at his sides. “I want to be friends. If anything else. I want that.”

If anything else.

You understand what he is saying here.

He isn’t here under any pretenses. Isn’t expecting you to take him in with open arms. Would be fine as friends.

Well, you don’t want that.

“Tim.” 

He looks at you. You extend a hand. Waiting. Not demanding.

Slowly, he comes to you. Palm sliding against yours. Warm and a little clammy, calloused but still soft. 

A few inches of space separate you when he stops. 

This close, you can feel the heat of him. Smell his shampoo, soft and fragrant. Eucalyptus. 

You squeeze his hand once then let go. 

He and Red Robin are two sides of the same coin. There is no Tim Drake without Red Robin, you think. Not right now. 

Maybe it’ll change, down the line. One part of you selfishly hopes so.

You’ll always want him. But as Red Robin, the risk of losing him triples and you are greedy enough to want to mitigate it. The same with Steph. Even with Wally, who is considerably more durable. All of them, duty-bound, honor-bound. You cannot ask that of them. 

Right now, though, you think you can make that demand. At least temporarily.

You reach for him. Pausing when your hands near his face. But he doesn’t move. Just looks down at you and you wonder if he can hear your heart, with how hard, how loudly, it pounds in your chest.

You have to be certain.

So, when your fingers finally touch the smooth material of the mask, before trying to lift it, you ask, in a whisper, “Can I?”

“Yes,” he breathes, some emotion you don’t know underlying his voice, one that makes your face warm and your heart skip a beat.

Your fingers find the edge, slowly, gently peeling it up. It peels and peels and peels until finally, it detaches into your hands. Almost flimsy now but with a certain weight. 

That’s not what retains your attention, though.

It’s him. It’s always him.

Tim’s eyes are closed, the tiniest of wrinkles found between his brows.

You imagine what it must be like to him. Letting you do that. Peel back the final layer of him once and for all. Letting you see him. Tim. Your Tim.

Keeping the domino mask loosely grasped in one hand, your other reaches for him, your thumb finding the wrinkle between his brows. It smooths out instantly at your touch and his eyes flutter open.

There they are.

It’s a shade of blue that haunts your dreams most nights.

Usually a lighter, softer color in the light, something like cornflowers, but right now, they’re midnight sky blue, looking at you with a heavy kind of affection, warm and unbridled. 

Your hand settles on his cheek. He leans into the touch. Your thumb strokes over the sensitive skin under his eye. Where dark circles mar the skin, exhaustion finally clear in his face.

You smile sadly. “You look tired, Timmy.”

“Last couple weeks,” he swallows, “have been… rough.”

“Tell me about it.”

He smiles. It’s a small thing but no less beautiful to your eyes. 

Then he sobers up, gazing at you, pained. “I am sorry.”

“I know.”

“I was an idiot.”

“I know.” You take a deep breath. “We both were.”

He opens his mouth to protest but you speak before he can. 

“It’s true. You know that. We didn’t handle this like we should but it’s… it’s in the past. We can’t change it. We just have to move forward.”

A slow nod, then his eyes flicker to your hand, still between you two, still holding onto the domino mask. He takes it from you. 

You aren’t sure what you expect, but it’s not for him to toss it away, landing somewhere in the darkness, a near silent sound. 

“Tim—“

“It’ll never come between us again,” he whispers and your breath catches at his words; his hands find yours, pulling the one on his cheek into his own, squeezing. “I promise.”

You take a second to compose yourself, letting out a slow breath.

“I believe you,” you finally say. “And… no more lies. Please. Tell me the truth. The whole truth. I want to be there for you, for all of it.”

“It’s going to hurt.” 

Not a protest. Just a statement. A warning. 

“So, it’s even more important for me to be there.”

He swallows, eyes searching yours. “Are you… are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“So… we’re okay?”

“No.”

His face falls. “Whatever it is… I’ll make it up to you. I swear. Whatever you want.”

“I want you.”

“You have me,” he promises. 

“Not like that.”

He stiffens up, breath catching as he understands what you mean. He looks down at you, shock clear. Understanding but not truly believing. That won’t do.

“I love you, Tim. Not just as a friend but…”

You’ve said it to them both. I love you. And this ‘I love you’ isn’t better than the one you tell Steph, than the one you told him for the first time, back when your feelings were still strictly platonic. It doesn’t mean something more, something deeper, something elevated just because it’s romantic. But it’s different. In what you want. In what you long for. 

He whispers your name. 

You let out a slow breath. “And if you want that, too, then…”

“Of course I do,” he breathes, letting go of your hands to cup your face, bringing you closer. “Of course I do. There’s nothing else, no one else, I want. I just… I never wanted to assume.”

“I know.”

“But if you’re on board then… then we can try it out.”

It feels more like ‘trying it out,’ though. Despite the uncertainty, the whirlwind of emotions, everything that has happened, finally talking it out, finally laying everything out on the table… you’ve found solid ground. A foundation you can build upon. 

It is no mere crush. No simple infatuation.

You are in love with Tim Drake. Plain and simple.

And he is in love with you, too.

You close your eyes, fingers curling around his wrists. After a beat, he presses his forehead to yours.

“I love you, too, you know,” he whispers. “I have for a long time.”

Your face is hot, flushed with heat, your heart pounding. You feel so light, like you might fall up, untethered by gravity and floaty from the cotton candy-sweet warmth unspooling in your chest, clogging your veins and the arteries of your heart. It wouldn’t be a bad way to go. 

But before you do…

“Tim.”

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

He kisses you.

Gently at first, tenderly, lips warm, soft, tasting faintly of spearmint. You feel like you might melt into a puddle of goo at it, at knowing it’s Tim who is kissing you so sweetly, making your knees feel a little weak.

You shuffle closer. He inhales sharply at you pressing into his space, curling around you to close the final bits of distance. It turns the kiss a little fevered, a little hungry, a little desperate.

You’ve missed him so much. You can’t stop yourself from whispering that, pulling away to do so.

He shudders at your words, lips pressing to your cheek, then your jaw, then your neck, and you open yourself up to him, too willing, too happy to let him have you like this.

He keeps saying it. Whatever you want. But he can have whatever he wants from you, too. Anything. Everything.

“I love you,” he breathes against your neck and your breath catches at the reverence in his voice. “Can you—can you say it again?”

“I love you, Tim,” you whisper and it pulls another shiver from him, lips pressing to your fluttering pulse and your knees really feel like they might give out. 

Your fingers grasp the material of his jacket, tugging, and he brings his lips back to yours, giving you a mind-numbing, synapse-slowing kiss. 

You separate eventually, foreheads pressed together, trying to catch your breath.

“Will you stay?” you ask softly.

“I’ll stay,” he promises, leaning back to press a heartachingly tender kiss to your forehead. You close your eyes, holding onto him.

After a moment, he pulls away, shedding his jacket, draping it over the footboard. You close the curtains over your window, then crawl into bed. When Tim comes over, he tries to push you over. Not hard. A gentle—persistent—nudge to your shoulder, keeping in mind your injury, though you should tell him that it’s healing much better at nearly three weeks since it happened. Enough so that Steph said she could see about Crystal coming over to take the stitches out, just to avoid waiting at the hospital, and the bill, too. 

“Oh, hey—”

“Let me sleep there,” he urges. “I feel better if you’re furthest from the window.”

“Hero types, I swear.”

He doesn’t dignify that with a response. Instead, he leans down and scoops you into his arms. You yelp and he shushes you. You can’t stop your giggles as he unceremoniously drops you on the other side of the bed, the one closest to the door. He crawls in after you.

“You’re going to wake them up,” he whispers but he’s grinning, too, as he slides under the covers, laying on his side.

“Who’s fault is that?” you shoot back. “Just ‘cause you and your savior complex need to be by the window—”

He muffles his snickers into the pillow, eyes closed, lips spread in a grin. Your chest warms and you wiggle closer to him. 

Tim lifts an arm so you can settle against his side. Wary of the gauze on the hollow of his throat, you settle for tucking your head underneath his chin, pressing a soft kiss to his neck.

He strokes a hand down your back, a warm brand between your shoulder blades. Sleep isn’t far off your conscience, right at the edges of it, and with the warmth of his body and the reassurance of his embrace, you’re moving fast to it.

But before you do…

“Tim.”

“Hmm?”

“You’ll… you’ll be here in the morning, right?”

His arm tightens around you. You feel him press a kiss to your hair.

“I’ll be here. I promise.”

And he is. 

When you rouse an indeterminate amount of time later, awakened by the sounds of activity outside your door—Wade’s high-pitched giggles, Wally’s low murmurs to him as he feeds him breakfast, the water running in the pipes as Linda uses the bathroom—Tim is still there. With you.

Deep in sleep, still, even with the slivers of light that come in from your window and the noises coming in from outside. Probably the repercussions of his ‘rough couple weeks.’ It’s quite similar with you, if you’re being honest. Besides, you hardly mind, basking in the feel of your legs tangled together underneath the blankets, the heavy but reassuring weight of his arm around you.

You manage to pull away a little bit to look at him, blinking out the bleariness in your eyes as you rest your head on the pillow, his face a couple inches from yours. Eyes shut, dark lashes casting shadows over his cheeks, breathing soft and slow. His hair is a mess, some parts of it flat from the pillow and sticking up in other areas. You spy a few creases from the pillow on his cheek, too. But even with that, he is still so beautiful to you.

You sigh, snuggling closer to him, shifting so you can run your fingers through his hair, your eyes falling shut again. You can stand to sleep a little while longer.

He lets out a soft, contented sigh as your fingers glide through his hair, gently taking out tangles as you go. 

You pull away after a moment, feeling sleep lapping at your senses again. 

You doze for a little while, rousing again to more noise from outside. The sound of the TV. Wally and Linda murmuring to each other. Wade giggling. 

Tim shifts, groaning quietly. The sound, rough with sleep, makes something inside you clench, sparks of heat waking you up more fully so you can watch him wake up, too.

He rolls onto his back, stretching, then sagging into the mattress. You stay curled up on your side, your calf thrown over his, watching him wake up with a small smile on your lips that you know must be horribly lovesick.

Finally, he turns to look at you, blinking the sleep out of his eyes.

“Hi.”

He gives you a sleepy smile. “Hi. Watching me sleep? Weirdo.”

He still has pillow creases on his face. You reach up to trace them.

“Well, you like this weirdo.”

“I love this weirdo,” he corrects. “Guess it’s fair, considering my night job.”

“Right. Watching you sleep—which I wasn’t, by the way, I was just waiting for you to wake up—”

“Sounds an awful lot like watching me sleep—”

You grin and pinch his cheek. He grunts, halfheartedly batting your hand away and taking it in his, lacing your fingers together. 

“Anyway. That’s not that big of an offense compared to, oh, I don’t know, dressing up and fighting crime each night.”

“Think that’s part of the whole ‘we love each other thing,’” he teases.

You smile. “I guess so.”

“So, then…” His eyes stray from your face, to something else, nerves clear as day; too early in the morning for him to make a solid attempt at hiding them from you and well. You know him. For better and for worse.

“Mmhm?”

“I guess I should take you on a date.”

“You guess?”

He blushes, red settling high in his cheeks in a way that is… decidedly tempting. “I mean I should. If—if you want to, of course.”

“I didn’t kiss you just for kicks, you know.”

“I sure hope not,” he agrees, looking back at you, face softening. “Will you, then?”

“Of course, Timmy.”

“And maybe…” He turns, reaching for you. You go easily, your fingers still tracing the pillow creases on his cheek. A strong arm wraps around your shoulders as he turns onto his side. In the warm light of the morning, his eyes are a softer shade of blue, the one you know and love. 

“Maybe…?”

“Maybe… you’ll give me the honor of being my girlfriend?”

Oh, geez.

Your face flares with heat, heart skipping a beat.

“You cornball.”

“You love it.”

Your palm finally settles on his cheek—hot to the touch, too, flush still lingering behind. You lean forward to press your lips to his forehead. He lets out a shuddery breath, arm tightening around you briefly.

“Yes, Tim,” you murmur against his skin. “I would be happy to.”

“Thank you,” he whispers, but it doesn’t like he’s thanking you for agreeing to it—at least, not just that. 

Maybe for everything. 

But— “You don’t have to thank me. It’s not… I love you. That’s all there is and that’s all there ever will be.”

You pull back, thumb stroking over his cheek. He leans forward, lips pressing gently to your cheek. Your fingers find their way into his hair, sighing contentedly as he kisses down to your jaw. 

You get so caught up in that, the knock on your door scares the shit out of you both.

Wally calls out your name. “You up, kiddo? Lin’s makin’ eggs and rice.”

Tim pulls away quickly and you sit up, your face hot.

“I’ll, um, be out in a few.” Your voice is steady, thankfully, but you can’t say much about your pulse, your heart beating out of your chest. Tim is sitting up, too, looking around the room—presumably for the mask he discarded last night. 

“Okay,” Wally says. “Will Tim be joining us?”

You both freeze. 

You should’ve known better, really. Wally’s been doing this for a long time. Nothing much will slip by him. Not unless he lets it. 

Tim turns an impressive shade of red. Tempting, like it always is, but mostly, you just feel like a teenager caught red-handed with her boyfriend.

…Which isn’t too incorrect of a description.

You look at him, lost. 

He clears his throat, raising his voice to respond. “I—uh, yeah, if you don’t mind.”

“That’s fine,” Wally responds cheerfully. “Hope you aren’t allergic to sesame because I don’t care and I’m not going out to get something different for you.”

“Wally!”

Tim smiles, shaking his head. “I’m not allergic.”

“Too bad,” he says. “It’ll be ready in a few.”

Footsteps leave. Wally hums to himself loudly, happily. 

You and Tim look at each other for a second before a giggle escapes you. Then another. He joins you in the next second, until you two are laughing loudly, listing into each other and flopping onto the bed.

In the kitchen, even from here, you can hear Wally and Linda laughing, too.

You grin breathlessly, looking at Tim’s smiling face, and decide the embarrassment of getting caught out is worth it, if you get to have this. All of them. 

reblogs are appreciated!

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[jacevelaryonswife]

After Dark | Part Two

As the week went by, an important achievement fell on Sihtric and tormented him completely: you didn't get out of his head.

pairing: sihtric kjartansson x stripper!fem reader | small appearance of finan

warnings: plot? no honey, porn! tiddy sucking, p in vagina sex, fingering, sligh dom!sihtric x slight dom!reader (yeah dude). English is not my first language. 4k of words

after dark masterlist

As the week went by, an important achievement fell on Sihtric and tormented him completely: you didn't get out of his head. It was ridiculous, totally, why would he think of a girl like you?

He was a man with physical needs, of course, but besides being a stripper it was not as if you were the only hot lady in the city (unfortunately the only one who gave him beer in the mouth wearing lingerie), and yet you haunted him in the most erotic way possible since the night of Osferth's birthday.

That was a shot in his ego, obviously. A shot? No, it was a real massacre against his pride. You see, he was not ashamed of your profession or of being attracted to you but with the idea of paying to have sex with a lady. He didn't need it, he never needed it, and he intended to keep not needing it — even after the conversation with Finan that night while they were waiting for the birthday boy.

"I'm not against strippers or anything like that, I just don't like the idea of paying to have sex," he said.

“Ya don't have to pay to sleep with someone, just in case you choose a lady of the night because - don’t tell me, it's her job to charge for sex,” his friend said bluntly.

"I know, but it's not real you know? I don't want to see a girl pretend to fake like in bad porn," the Dane replied low when he saw the waitress approach with another ale.

"Aye, she will only pretend if you don't treat her properly," Finan commented in a tone of obviousness. "You're overthinking about it, see Osferth, he was almost a monk and is being devoured at this moment by a ferocious fox."

And the same ferocious fox was being devoured in his thoughts at that very moment. He wanted nothing more to devastate the fuck out of you.

And that's what Sihtric intended to do by dismissing his mates at the typical pub and going to meet you. Things from work, he justified, driving to the club while continuing to fight the battle against his pride, asking what he tought being some employee if there would be a performance of the dancer whose artistic name — recently discovered by him — was Aura. The confirmation cheered him up to the same intensity that created a small focus of nervousness beneath the stoic and well-constructed feature of his face. Would you remember him?

No, of course not. How many men did you see in one night? How many passed by your bed? He was just another forgettable idiot who paid your bills.

It was informed that that night you would only be on a private stage (damn premium girl), which would make him pay obligatorily for dance and sex — something he obviously wouldn't do. Even though he received enough money to have a comfortable life, he knew that you were not a cheap girl and it was more than absurd for him the double payment. That's why he preferred to ask when you would be available on the other stages again.

Sunday on the main stage, they informed, and he waited restlessly for another day.

A great deal of shame warmed his body as he passed through the door of the club until the moment of sleep. What the hell was he doing? Waiting so long to have an uncertain moment with a girl who could reject him for a larger amount? That you would certainly do that. Where did his pride come from?

He was sure you had bewitched him. Damn Aura.

The rest of Friday night, the whole day of Saturday and the day and afternoon of Sunday were passed in great doubt as to how it should proceed, with rational peaks of not going to the club that night. But then, there he was in the same place last time waiting for the main show to start. (He wasn't proud of it).

Scarlet lights illuminated the center of the stage and you appeared covered with a red overcoat and gloves this time, hair stuck and walking in the direction of the central poledance right from the start. Your gaze ran along the audience from the left end to the right, quickly landing on it with a subtle smirk before the music started.

Standing there with your red coat on

French perfume looking vulnerable

Black widow girl you sit and wait

Till I climb into the web you made

Your performance was different this time, with so many layers covering your body that it limited your movements to the most simple. Until the glove was removed from one hand and a red smoke spread across the stage, with you distancing yourself a little from the poledance and throwing the piece in the direction of the audience anxious for your nudity.

I'm an animal, you got me losing control

The first button on the overcoat has been opened.

You got me losing control

The second came next, revealing some of the crimson lacy bra.

You got me losing control

The third exposed your skin even more, but not enough.

It's not right

Your hair was dramatically revealed to the audience and your head turned in the momentum of the music, taking on poledance with precise and sensual acrobatic movements that impressed him considerably.

I can't take it no more girl

I can't take this abuse

Every time that you walk in the room girl

I'm hypnotized by the way that you move

It's the way that you move

You were upside down with your thighs attaching your body to the structure, undoing the other glove and throwing it again towards the audience, who howl like hungry wolves. In the mismatched eyes of Sihtric your performance was more provocative and impersonal than the previous one, so far, creating a certain discomfort in him, placing him beyond what he had fantasized. That was your job and his sexual desire, nothing more than the basics.

Your position exposed the provocative garter that connected the bottom of the lingerie with the transparent stockings that made up your look, making you even more sensual and domineering especially when maneuvering the vertical bar so well and standing up effortlessly, facing the audience with while playing with the fourth big button of the piece that covered a part of your body.

You looked at the men who made up the audience, a great mix between businessmen, apparently normal men and visibly failed men. Your choice was obvious and rational as you approached a cunt who was proud of the Ralph Lauren suit and the shiny Rolex on his wrist. No word was said by you when collecting the roll of money and releasing the penultimate button with a satisfied smirk, putting the notes inside your bra.

You call me out at your beck and call

Set me up just to watch me fall

Twist and turn bend and sway

I move in then you push away

Sihtric held his breath for some seconds when your gaze found his, maintaining the connection by slowly approaching him like last time. But he was not Osferth, his cheeks did not turn red when you bent down to face him directly, nor when you signaled with the index finger so that he approached to the point that your sentence was audible only to him.

"Did you come back to see me, dear? That made me very happy. I hope you want to follow in the footsteps of your sweet friend too,” your voice was soft as velvet in his ear, not expecting an answer when you got up and continued to face him. "Unbutton the last one, sweetie."

His heart missed a beat when he was remembered by you. Damn it, he felt pathetic for his inner reaction but mirrored his fierce look, without the twinge of fun. Sihtric liked boldness and insubordination in his women and that made him truly truly fucking aroused, he wanted to fuck the shit out of you and wanted to see you fuck him like a real lady of the night.

“Good boy,” your superb smile sent a gust of heat to his cock and he hated how easily he was affected as a teenager at puberty.

I'm an animal you got me losing control

You got me losing control, you got me losing control

It's not right

No, it wasn't certain at all.

Now, without the thick layer that hid your soft curves from the hungry pack you moved more easily in poledance, curling up acrobatically like a cat in a tree. Sihtric got drunk with his sample body and rubbed his palms on the side of his pants to soften the tingling that took them, enjoying his performative and sensual show.

I can't take it no more girl

I can't take this abuse

Every time that you walk in the room girl

I'm hypnotized by the way that you move

It's the way that you move

Upside down again, you looked at him a few times as you moved your arms, crossed your thighs technically against the metal bar and changed position, always subtle and discreetly, but not for him.

I can't take it no more girl

I can't take this abuse

Every time that you walk in the room the room, I'm Hypnotized by the way that you move

It’s the way that you move

Yes, he was fucking hypnotized, so absorbed that he didn't hear the desperate appeals of the men asking to see more of your body. Idiots. All of them, idiots. You would be his lady that night.

I can't tell you the future, I may promise the moon.

Cause every time that you walk in the room girl, I'm hypnotized by the way that you move.

It's the way that you move

What happened when you withdrew from the stage was very fast, Sihtric got up at the same time as the previous idiot and followed the same dark corridor that Finan had gone. The security guards who were willing along the way went unnoticed by the determined focus of the Dane in his fervent steps, contrasting with the calm (excess of security) of the other man who also went looking for him. He waited to go to some administrative or security employee to get to you, not to your own person who arrived at the door of one of the rooms.

“Aura! Aura,” he practically screamed in your direction, watching you turn to face him with a satisfied smirk.

“Good to see you, big boy, I figured you were coming,” you purred as you faced him. "Would you like to come in so we can negotiate?"

Before his confirmation, the other man was opposed to what was being suggested. “Common babe, you won't waste time with anyone having a gold mine right here in front of you."

Fortunately your answer was satisfactory enough that Sihtric did not hold that cunt by the lapel of his ridiculous suit and crush him against the wall. The guy was nothing close to him physically speaking, but the weight of the wallet certainly made him believe that he could have anything he wanted, including you.

"I like to draw my own conclusions, sweetie, especially with those who arrive first." That's all you said as you held Sihtric's hand and guided him inside the room under the asshole's protests. He was probably right to call himself a gold mine and the Dane knew that. That worried him like hell. "Don't call him, guys like him are in droves out there with full wallets and bad sex. It's not my type."

"And what's your type?" He asked emotionlessly in his voice, seeing a malicious little smile form in your features.

“Handsome men like you; good boys, bad boys who need a lesson... it's a long list,” you replied bluntly.

The previous anger felt for him dissipated considerably with your response, recalling the reason for being there in the first place, but still keeping a small fraction in case he needed it.

"What if you're the one who needs a lesson?" His tone was intense and low, entering in your little game.

"Do you think I've been a bad girl?" You purred as you leaned on it, leaning your hands on the deliciously defined chest.

“I think you need a good lesson, babe,” he circled your hips with one hand, holding firmly on to his soft skin, enjoying the warm course the situation was taking. But there was still a small problem. "But before that I need to know about the price."

"... see, I'm an expensive girl but I get very well only with the dance, which makes sex an activity done only when I want and with whom I want," your explanation was categorical, but the sensuality remained in your manners. And then you revealed how much you normally charged and Sihtric was sure that his pressure dropped for long seconds and his eyes widened more than he wanted to show. At the same time that his world overturned furiously, your explanation did not stop.

"But I can always make exceptions for guys to make me cum nice and easy, which I hope is your case, handsome, someone with such beautiful eyes could not be disappointing."

The new suggested value thawed his blood and pumped it directly to the stick. It was still high, but less atrocious than the previous one. It was promising.

"And I have restrictions on certain fetishes, so I need to know what you like to do."

Ah, he really liked to please the ladies. He liked to fuck good and strong beautiful things like you, but he also liked slow and sensual sex.

It was natural for Sihtric to take control of sex, but there were no problems when the lady took the reins of the situation. In fact, he found it extremely aroused to see a girl in a position to take what she wanted from him. Although the dane appreciated a certain versatility, he preferred dominance. And that's almost what he answered.

"So, how do you want me, darling?" You asked as you leaned all over it again, shortening the distance between your lips. “Because I have some ideas, including knowing your name,”

"Mm," he buzzed satisfied only to practically growl next: "It's Sihtric, and I also have some ideas."

"Good," you surprised him with a warm and overwhelming kiss, wrapping the back of his neck with one hand and leaning the other on his shoulder. Sihtric devoured your mouth with an even greater ferocity, circling your back and squeezing your arse and claiming your body for him and only for him.

There was no fear or shyness in the way your lips moved against each other, tasting, biting, sucking, confronting each other. He squeezed your soft flesh and brought you impossibly close during the hot make out, grunting when you pulled the sensitive hair from the back of his neck and pulling your lower lip with your teeth.

"Bad girl," he growled, pushing your body to the edge of the bed and breaking the kiss reluctantly to say, "Take off your clothes for me, slowly."

You bit your lower lip and looked at him seductively, smiling with menace and leisurely lowering the straps of the bra before leaving your breasts in full display. His hands immediately met your warm flesh, holding firmly, squeezing and massaging vigorously.

"Did you like them, babe?" You sighed when he turned both halos between his fingers.

“A lot. You're fucking gorgeous, lady."

The lower part of the set was the next to be removed, slipping between its soft thighs with ease exhausted.

Not even in the most explicit daydreams would his mind have projected anything close to your magnitude. You were completely ravishing and he wanted nothing more than to devastate you. The Dane attacked the soft skin of your neck with kisses and incisive licks that made your body soften below him, your scent touching on all his senses.

Reluctant to move away from you, his clothes were then discarded and your hands flewed to explore the defined abs marked with some scars. He was a fucking view, especially all hard with pre cum leaking from the tip of his huge cock, holding the condom in his hands.

"Damn, handsome, we're going to have a lot of fun today. But this brand sucks, let me get a better one.”

The dane's answer was a proud smirk, diving over you when pushing you in bed, not wasting time in claiming every little piece of your body with his hands, lips and tongue. First kissing your, neck, collarbone to reach your velvety breasts, turning the halo before licking them and wrapping them around your lips, sucking and bitting like a hungry man, making you moan pleasantly.

“Mmm,” you purred with a smile and caged him between your legs, rubbing your warm intimacy against his thigh.

"Do you want more, babe?” He asked close to his skin.

“Yes Sihtric, give me more!”

“Mmm,” he lowered his attention down your stomach, kissing all the way until he reached your wet heat, groping from the bundle of nerves to the wet entrance. "Fuckin' pretty," his mouth watered in the vision of your perfect body and pussy, longing more than anything to taste and fuck you with his fingers.

Before Sihtric could ask for permission to do that, you took his hand and sucked his index and middle finger, leaving your eyes more open throughout the act. "I'm glad you liked it, darling, because at that moment I need to know what these fingers can do," your velvety voice made his cock squirm and his fingers tingle to satisfy you.

He didn't think twice about inserting a finger into his soft, wet walls, moving slowly to prepare you, biting your lower lip with a soft murmur.

"Hmm," you moaned with the delicious intrusion that came along with the thumb of the other hand on your clitoris, "just like that, babe."

"Are you enjoying it, darling?" He purred with a confident smile, leaning to kiss your stomach and tits.

“A lot,” you massaged his head and brought him closer to your skin, closing your eyes in delight and moaning slyly when he wrapped his fingers. "But I just want to cum on your dick tonight."

He let out a short, nasal laugh, removing his fingers from your walls and rubbing your fluids into your nipples. "What a shame, I wanted to feel you squeezing my fingers like you were doing just now."

"You'll prefer to feel my tightness somewhere else, pretty boy, let me ride this impressive big cock," you groped his chest with your fingers and captured his lips in a short and sloppy kiss, taking control by turning it to climb on his lap.

Allowing you to pick up the condom thrown on the bed, the Dane watched with a low grunt as you laid out the material along his length, pumping a few times to provoke him before taking your position by taking him inside your warm, wet and soft prison slowly. "Damn it," you closed your eyes and stopped halfway, "I need some time to take everything, you’re so big and good."

He held your hips and leaned his feet on the bed to contribute to your movements. “Take your time little lady.” Sihtric was really struggling to let your body adapt, but the delicious tightness of your cunt left him yearning for more.

Your hips got closer and closer to his groin, moistening the entire stretch until your finally reached the base with a long sigh. Sihtric's hands smoothed the sides of your body and handled your tits with dexterity while contemplating you and your body with admiration and lust. Finally.

His weekly torment was being solved and he would do his best to prolong it.

Your initial jumps were smooth, leaning your hands on his chest to establish a constant and light rhythm that made him grunt low in contentment. Although...

Although he was appreciating how your movements intensified, it was not the way he wanted you that night, but he could deal with it for a while, especially when he started hitting his hips with your own. Fuck.

“Hmm, just like that,” you moaned and leaned over to take his lips, which gave him the chance to wrap an arm around your back and hold your body against his, holding your arse with a big hand to fuck you in that position. “Fuck, you're so damn big,” you whined with pleasure on his lips. “It feels amazing,” your head fell into the crooked of his neck.

"Let me know when it's too much, lady, I don't want to hurt you," he wandered with strong breathing before turning your body in a quick and fluid movement down, taking over the top, rubbing his groin against yours.

There was no reluctance in the rhythm he established, reflecting on the way your legs caged him and your arms brought him even closer, making him more intimate than he thought you would like. But who was he to displease with such?

“Sihtric! Keep going!” You sang sweetly, contrasting with the previous dominating attitude, melting and releasing juices on his cock. He grunted in a particularly strong grip followed by a soft tow. “More!”

He hit that spot again and again and almost growled when your nails scratched his back, beating relentlessly at a maddening pace. He was mortally proud of the idea of taking an orgasm out of you so fast that his mind led him into an inconvenient trap: what if you were pretending?

No, he couldn't accept that.

Pressing his thumb on your pearl and sucking the sweet place in the conjuncture between your neck and shoulder, Sithric kept his movements focused on getting your pleasure, taking your breath out and making your body arch violently against his with a loud moan, squeezing him in every way for dear life, leaving him almost painfully motionless throughout your high.

You were a damn sight with eyes closed and mouth between open, then staring at you with a satisfied and open smile. "Fuck… if I had known it would be like this I would have let you fuck me in the middle of the stage... in front of all those idiots," you laughed and smoothed his face, "keep going, I want you to cum for me."

If the glorious connection between your bodies leading him to madness was not enough, your dirty words made it difficult to postpone the weight on his balls with each intense and deep thrust on your velvet walls. He was on the edge of the apex when he sank his face into your neck and grunted loudly, making his folds vibrate. It was too much to deal with.

His senses failed when he came strong and hot, filling the condom and your ear with idle and guttural sounds while squeezing your hip with a force that would be felt for days. Sihtric leaned on the opposite forearm so as not to deposit all the weight on you during the climax, delighting in the newly formed sweat where your breasts and his chest were.

"Fuck," the Dane slowly withdrew from your cozy interior and removed the used condom, visually looking for some disposal point inside the room. When you signaled the nearest dumper he drove quickly before falling to your side with irregular breathing and eyes momentarily closed. He was a fucking view.

“I hope it doesn't take long to recover because I need you to fuck me again,” you said after a short moment in comfortable silence.

A quick nasal laugh was his first reaction. "Mmm, you're a needy girl, aren't you?" His mismatched eyes shone with sensuality when they found yours, "don't worry, I intend to make good use of time."

An open and satisfied smile was the preceptor of your answer. “Good. I have more ideas."

═════════════════════

— taglist: @gemini-mama @lexwolfhale @ireallydontcareanymorebrooo @tssf-imagines @chompchompluke

[cuubism]

@magnusbae challenged me to write smut using professional email language, and i'm nothing if not a slut for abusing corporate jargon!

-----

>> Saturday, March 26, 8:32pm – Morpheus <morpheus @ dreaming.com> to Office (All):

Subject: TO ALL WHOM IT MAY CONCERN

I do not appreciate tardiness. Cease your dallying at once come Monday morning. Or there shall be consequences.

>> Saturday, March 26, 8:41pm – Hob <robert @ dreaming.com> to Morpheus:

RE: TO ALL WHOM IT MAY CONCERN

Morpheus, mate, all due respect, what with your being the sole god, ruler, and iron-fisted authoritarian of the place, but do you have nothing at all better to do than send work emails on a Saturday night?

And before you say, "but Hob, you yourself are replying to emails this Saturday," you are so right! I’m currently drinking alone :)

>> 8:42pm – Morpheus to Hob

I should fire you for such insolence.

>> 8:47pm – Hob to Morpheus

Do it then :)

Alternative proposal: we commit several HR violations like we did in the office on Thursday.

>> 8:50pm – Morpheus to Hob

All proposals must be submitted to me in writing.

>> 8:52pm – Hob to Morpheus

You really want a paper trail?

>> 8:56pm – Morpheus to Hob

It has an email trail already, does it not?

>> 9:05pm – Hob to Morpheus

Please find attached my detailed proposal.

attachment: :)_version_1.docx

>> 9:07pm – Morpheus to Hob

This is twelve pages that only say, “I want to suck your dick.”

>> 9:09pm – Hob to Morpheus

What, have you got edits or something?

Do you need more time to review? Wanna circle back on it later? Block some time on my calendar to go over it? ;)

>> 9:15pm – Morpheus to Hob

My redline is attached.

attachment: :)_version_2.docx

>> 9:17pm – Hob to Morpheus

I’m amenable to those changes.

But on second pass I think we can accomplish more in this partnership. I think I’d like to take you apart slowly, have you begging. You’re always demanding, I think it might be good for you to beg for once. It’s not good business to agree without a little negotiation. I wanna see you beg for my cock.

What are your thoughts on this addition?

>> 9:40pm – Hob to Morpheus

Hi Morpheus, I hope this finds you well. Just following up on this question :)

>> 9:50pm – Morpheus to Hob

Perhaps I am considering.

You may wish to consider that I am your boss.

>> 9:53pm – Hob to Morpheus

I think there’s been a miscommunication. You seem to be laboring under the misapprehension that I give a fuck about that.

>> 9:54pm – Morpheus to Hob

I truly should fire you.

>> 9:55pm – Hob to Morpheus

Don’t you think you deserve to cum first?

>> 9:56pm – Morpheus to Hob

After I beg for it, you mean?

>> 9:57pm – Hob to Morpheus

Now you’re getting it.

If I correctly guess that you’re in your bed, that you’ve BEEN in your bed while you’re “considering,” do I get a gold star? Employee of the month?

>> 10:00pm – Morpheus to Hob

There is no possible universe where you win such an award.

However, your supposition may be correct.

>> 10:02pm – Hob to Morpheus

Excellent, so we’re on the same page, then :)

Are you touching yourself? Are you imagining it’s me touching you instead? Because I’m imagining I have you under me and I’m fucking into your tight hole instead of my hand. (And typing emails w/ one hand is not so easy btw).

>> 10:03pm – Morpheus to Hob

I have two fingers inside me. But it is not enough. I would have your cock.

>> 10:04pm – Hob to Morpheus

I think you know what I wanna hear.

>> 10:05pm – Morpheus to Hob

…Please.

>> 10:06pm – Hob to Morpheus

There’s a good boy.

Don’t worry, love, I’ll give you everything you want. You’re taking me so good, I just know it. Going to feel it for days.

>> 10:07pm – Morpheus to Hob

I am.

Yes

I would have you come in me. If you’re amenable.

>> 10:08pm – Hob to Morpheus  

Fuck you make me so hot. Yeah I’m amenable. Will you cum for me first? Can you cum just from the feeling of me inside you?

10:09pm – phone call from <unknown>

“I thought… you would want to hear it.”

“God your voice… did you get this number from the HR directory?”

“What if I did?”

“Kinda stalkery but kinda hot. Are you close?”

“Very. I… I want you. Badly. Please, Hob.”

“I have you, darling. Ah, you beg so pretty. You can come. I want to hear you. Can you do it without touching yourself? Be good.”

“I can’t—”

“I know you can. Go on. Imagine me with you. Holding your hands to the bed so you can’t touch yourself. I can imagine how beautiful you look. I’d kiss you if I was there, wreck your mouth, too.”

“Hob—”

“Go on. For me?”

“Ah—”

“There you go, sweet thing. I wish I could see you.”

“Will you… come for me now? So I can feel you inside me?”

“Fuck—”

“Good. You feel… so good. Worthy of employee of the month, perhaps.”

“Oh, fuck you, Morpheus. You don’t even have awards at this place.”

“Of course I don’t. That would be inane.”

“Are you satisfied with my efforts, at least?”

“I am pleased to say that I am.”

“Still, I think we should probably debrief that meeting. You wanna touch base about it in person? Say… eleven pm? My calendar’s clear.”

“…Yes.”

[malevolentcast]

you probably already know about this but an articles been put out about rusty quills shitty business practices and general shady behavior. if you havent already, you might be getting messages about it soon. just wanted to send a heads up in advance

Yes I saw and read it.

I'm choosing to believe the motivations of those involved, in spite the poor optics of them being from another network (and even quoting what "they" pay as an example of "good" companies), were an attempt to be morally just. That is to say, I have no ill will towards the author, their editors and everyone who contributed.

To be clear; if Rusty Quill has treated employees poorly they should be held accountable, I say if not as a way to not believe those affected but because "alleged" is used more than a dozen times in the article.

Additionally, no employer should ever yell at an employee. Again, if that happened, they should apologize and do better.

That being said…

I don't appreciate articles speaking on behalf of me or, frankly, trying to rope me in without my consent or request. I recognize they weren't attempting to give me a voice, just those who are affected, however the author has only now allowed shows to reach out, after the damage has been done and chose to speak for me nonetheless. Additionally, the article says that if I remain silent, it's because I can't speak out - which is just nonsense.

From my experience; I've had nothing but great experiences with Rusty Quill. They're a network. They host my show. What else do I need them for? Contracts, NDA's and all the legal aspects that the article seemed to make such a big deal about… are very normal. I think this is part of not understanding how large companies work.

For example; I saw tweets upset that people shouldn't have to sign an NDA to look over a sample contract which… is exactly what you do when you're looking over a sample contract.

I was a General Manager of a small rental company for 10 years prior to trying my hand at Audio work and renting a water cooler had more stipulations than RQ's agreement. Contracts are meant to be all encompassing. If you don't agree with stuff, you cross it out and ask it to be changed. If you’re upset at the way large companies work, your fight is misdirected with addressing just one company. The article also mentioned something about "Taking Money Upfront" and stuff like that, which failed to mention you don’t HAVE to take money upfront - furthermore - most shows on RQ did not do that.

In any case, this isn't meant to be a dismantling of the article. I don't want to invalidate anyone's experiences or frustrations. Who knows what more may come to light, all I can speak of are my experiences and frustrations.

So why I'm frustrated? Well, I saw a few tweets and posts boycotting RQ shows, which included mine. So that sucked.

Overall however, I think the article was done in poor taste and felt like virtue signaling more than something trying to be helpful. I think, personally - and I say this with all the genuine sincerity - it seemed written from a perspective of inexperience and naivete. It is not the Watergate scandal people think it is.

And for the people who are upset that "peoples lives were ruined" when they were let go… yes I'm sorry people lost their jobs. I lost the aforementioned GM position as well when the owner of the company sold the company out from under me. Not because I did a bad job or because I made a mistake, just bad luck. It sucked, sometimes people lose their jobs. That doesn't mean I can't have an opinion on what I feel is an article meant to stir the pot. After all, shouldn't I express my perspective as a show on RQ (which, like, isn't that what the article was meant to be about?).

Anyway, those are my thoughts. For what it's worth I think you should still read the article! It has some great thoughts…

…but with all things, read it with an informed opinion; remembering that it was written by the Director of Marketing for another Podcast network, who references their own network within their "expose" as an example of a network with "good practices", during a time that they're recruiting for new shows and that every single show on that Network has openly supported the article - retweeting it almost instantly, during the final days of their competitors successful Kickstarter.

The disclaimer on the article about the Authors association with F&F wasn't put until AFTER they were called out. Odd that an expose on uncovering the truth would be less than transparent when posting…

[gacha-incels]

My current theory is that ( Puts tinfoil hat )  The ongoing gender war stuff in both CN and KR have definitely shifted how some 'waifu-collectors' see the female player base and therefore male characters in gacha games. There's definitely an ongoing narrative that women are the root of toxicity and more devs should adopt the waifu-only policy to appeal to as few women as possible and gatekeep their safe havens. The irony is that most of these people advocating to exclude women are using the vocal minority for their examples as to why, which is exactly what they don't want done to themselves. Basically, women should only play Love and Deepspace and men can play GFL2/AL/Snowbreak/Nikke etc. As long as women 'stay in their lane' they are satisfied, even though it's been shown that both men and women will pull for characters of the opposite gender and vice versa. Mixed cast games are trying to err on the side of caution because if they don't appeal to this crowd enough (by skewing the gender ratio harder, or by making more fanservice designs) then they will be brigaded on social media for appealing too much towards women or radical feminists.

omg yeah I feel like “gamer” men say this outright around the world from east to west. “women are coming into our games and making the women less sexy and everything more toxic” etc. attitude has ramped up. though it was always bad if you remember, in the west at least, the absolute insane violent tantrum reaction to Anita Sarkeesian for making like I cannot stress this enough just pretty basic feminist videos about video games. It was like seeing grown adult men have the same type of screaming tantrum a toddler would have when you tell him he can’t have an expensive toy at the store. except instead of one kid sitting on the floor screaming it was an unbelievable amount of men worldwide sitting in their computer chairs screaming and writing graphic rape threats and making full video games where you violently beat her. For the crime of just one woman talking about fucking Mario or whatever. THIS is how these men react when you do something as benign as that. I posted some more about this here.

you have no idea the insane shit that gets blamed on female fans or female employees of mixed sex gachas. A lot of that has been already posted here obviously so I’ll post something new I saw just so we can archive some more examples. Recently one of my friends from the infrared blog I sometimes repost here showed me this strange phenomenon happening on the Genshin impact leaks subreddit where a good amount of guys were accusing the developers of the game of being fujoshis because they thought a new female water character was being nerfed so that a previously released male water character would be the strongest water character. I thought this was a joke (my mistake) but it spanned a LOT of comments and got extremely heated. Later I found these comments in another thread there

Like this is the thought process. This sucked -> ok so probably a woman wrote it -> well most writers graduated from liberal arts schools, and most liberal arts students are women, so it was definitely a female writer. This is how easy it is for this type of “gamer” male to blame anything they hate on women. They did this for one of the stories in HSR that was disliked as well. If you look up “有男不玩” there are videos on bilibili but also some on YouTube where you can get snippets of how these guys are thinking about female gacha players. They share some similarities with all gamer men who think women are more frivolous, unskilled and don’t like action games. there were particular comments that reminded me of how Korean incels wrote about women, in that games should stop pandering to us altogether because we don’t have enough money, or if we do have money it’s because it’s coming from a boyfriend or male relative, or we’re all just playing f2p. ironically a huge amount of merch sales, IRL events and fan-PR like fanart comes from female players and they are usually the ones to stick around the longest I believe, but these guys only understand the money aspect of these games.

There are a lot of ones that were interesting but I don’t want to use too many since I was working with MTL, and then looking up individual phrases, and then retranslating some, and then looking up context, etc. lol. so when I have a better grasp on this I can make a better post.

in regards to how they find it ok if the games are sex segregated yes exactly,I posted about this earlier and probably a couple months ago too but this was most recent so it’s easiest to just copy here

[enha-cafe]

ehehe i always gotta spill my hee thoughts ^^

heeseung who’s that hot part time coworker that is shit at his job but keeps it because management knows he gets the customers to come in just by standing on his phone at register. sucks at folding clothes and never remembers to put the hangers in the same direction, overuses his employee discount and takes an hour long break, but he’s too hot n customers stare at him while he rings up their clothes, somehow gets people to spend like $300+ on shit clothing because they don’t look at the price tag, instead they look at him (bc who can’t?). ugh and it sucks being on shift with him bc too many customers and he doesn’t ever help, but also sharing shift with him means he fucks you against the boxes in the back on his break, quickies that make your knees weak n make the rest of your shift hell but it’s so worth it. n ofc heeseung who gives you a very bad wink before walking off to the back room after closing, forget cleaning the store, his stroke game is worth all the shit from your crappy job <3

please why do you make it sound like he’s one of those guys who used to stand in front of like hollister or something to get people to come inside (hard hours: open)

please the way he absolutely couldn’t care less about the people who come into the store trying to flirt with him or something all he cares about is making commission from them. even though sometimes when he asks customers who helped them he’s already putting down your name (it’s the least he could do since you let him fuck him).

coworker heeseung who always asks you when your shifts are so that he knows when to schedule his shifts. he won’t admit is but he’s definitely covered multiple peoples shifts just so that he’d be with you during closing hours. thinks about how being understaffed just means he gets to take you away for random quickies and no one will have enough time for look for either of you.

he lives for the weekdays that are extra slow because he tells you how you two should start cleaning up early and the second you get to the supply closet for brooms and stuff he’s right behind you locking the door and pushing you up against a wall. tells you how you’re his favorite part of the job and only keeps it because he loves your pussy so much. of course you love the way he pounds into you after so many people have been asking for his “help” all shift. heeseung nuts in you with the excuse of it being an easier clean up.

[harrywavycurly]

Sarah! Pls more steddie and reader😂 I loved the one you just posted ❤️🥹

Hiii lovey!! So happy you like it!! Truly this has taken over my whole brain and I’m not mad about it! So enjoy!!💖

-Friendly reminder this is Steddie x pregnant reader and the baby is a boy(don’t even come into my inbox asking for a name because I don’t have one at this moment in time…open to suggestions lol)✨

*Eddie is in charge of making sure you’re okay while Steve’s at work and naturally it’s when shit hits the fan*

“Uhh what the fuck are you doing here?” “Is that how you greet all the customers Harrington?” “Just the ones that should be home with our very pregnant partner who…is she in the van? Why is she in the van Eddie?” “Yeah so…uhm we need to go.” “We need to go? Who’s we?” “You and I…and her we need to go it’s like…time? She’s been having these painful like cramp things for a while and yeah…I think it’s happening.” “Holy shit like she’s having the baby? Why are you just standing there? We need to go.” “She wanted me to ask if you could grab some red vines…a snack for the road.” “She’s in labor and wants red vines? Really?” “She likes what she likes Steve…but can we hurry this up?” “Oh now you’re in a fucking hurry?” “I mean she is in labor so like…we do need to get a move on.” “How the fuck are you so…relaxed? How are you not wanting to throw up right now? We are about the be dads Eddie!” “I’m just trying to be the voice of reason okay? We can’t all freak the fuck out and going off of how you’re acting right now…you’re going to do enough freaking out for the two of us.” “Okay I got the red vines let’s go.” “Uhh what about the store?” “Fuck family video I’m about to be a dad.” “That’s one way to get employee of the year.”

“You…smell weird.” “Damn baby I know he doesn’t shower that often but no need to be so mean to him.” “Fuck off Steve I shower every day…but what do you mean I smell weird?” “It’s just different? I don’t know…it’s not bad just not what I’m used to.” “Ohhh I read that your sense of smell gets heightened during pregnancy so maybe you don’t like his aftershave or something?” “Reading the pregnancy books are we Steve? You’re such a suck up dude.” “It’s called being prepared Munson…wouldn’t kill you to read one yourself.” “Eddie and I read the what to expect when you’re expecting…” “I’m the suck up? You literally read one with her so…yeah fuck off.” “Language! There’s a baby in the room.” “Does he have ears yet?” “Yes he has ears Eddie and he’s tired of hearing his dads argue.” “Sorry sweetheart…we’ll do better…won’t we Eddie?” “Yes we will do better… as long as Steve stops being an ass.” “You’re so damn annoying Munson.” “Don’t make me get a swear jar…” “sorry baby.”

“That doesn’t look right.” “How would you know what an infant seat is supposed to look like Harrington?” “I know it’s not supposed to be leaning over like that…” “it’s just…a little crooked but it’s…fine…see? Perfect.” “She’s going to agree with me you know that right?” “Yeah…I know…but she asked us to install it so just…I don’t fucking know try to help me instead of standing there all huffy with your hands on your hips?” “I’m not huffy I’m just observing.” “Steve…” “fine fine let me see…oh wow you’re such an idiot you have it in here backwards.” “The base? I do not.” “Yeah you do…here it goes like…this…now this just clicks…into that and…there we go.” “Does it feel secure? He’s not gonna like tumble out of it or anything?” “Feel for yourself but no…he’s not gonna fall out.” “Nice job Harrington.” “Thanks…you think driving with an infant in the backseat is gonna make us turn into those crazy slow and anxious drivers?” “Oh totally…we are gonna be those dads that honk and flip people the bird if they get too close to our car.” “Is that installed right? It looks like it’s leaning?” “Harrington did it.” “Thanks Eddie…”

“But I get so bored laying in bed all day.” “I know baby but that’s what the doctor ordered and just think it’s only for a few more weeks.” “What’s wrong? What did Steve do to you Princess? Need me to kick his ass?” “He’s making me stay in bed…all day…” “what the hell Harrington? You know she gets restless.” “I’m not making her! The doctor said bed rest till the baby is here so that’s what I’m doing…making her rest…in the bed.” “You don’t even have anything for her to read…or her doodle sketch pad? What the hell you have it on the educational channel…Steve come on dude no wonder she’s on the verge of tears.” “I thought she was supposed to like sleep? You know she falls asleep to the reading rainbow faster than anything.” “It’s called bed rest because she supposed to just stay in bed not because she’s supposed to sleep till the baby is born…god you’re so lucky you’re nice to look at Harrington.” “Thanks?…” “He’s torturing me Eddie please let me leave the bed I just wanna take a walk around the neighborhood.” “Sorry princess…but don’t worry I’ll get you some stuff to keep you entertained…maybe after dinner we can cuddle and watch a movie? How does that sound?” “Am I invited to this movie and cuddle party?” “That’s up to her…” “yes…you can come to our cuddle and movie party Steve.”

[honeyjars-sims]

2.2 Cool Girl

Johnny: What’s going on? You seem a little stressed.

Chantal: I’m itching. It’s that stupid lube.

Johnny: Uh, ok, that’s a little more information than I needed.

Chantal: I didn’t put it there. I had to write some reviews for some of SNOOT’s sexual health products, so I tested one of the lubes on my wrist to see if it seemed ok. But now my skin is all inflamed.

Johnny: Gross, are you allergic to it or something?

Chantal: I don’t know. I don’t usually have sensitive skin, and this seems different somehow. It’s almost like a burn.

Johnny: Weird! What’s in that stuff anyway?

Chantal: Here’s the bottle. I should’ve known Ambrose would be putting weird shit in her products.

Johnny: [reading on his phone] Uh oh. Looks like you’re not the only one having this problem. Listen to this review: “They should call this Satan’s Lube because my cooch is burning like hellfire.”

Chantal: Are you serious? Let me see! Oh, God. [reading] “This stuff gave me a bad chemical burn. My sex life is ruined!” What the hell? This is terrible! I can’t put my name on a positive review of something like this. I’ve gotta call my boss.

Johnny: Did they post your review already? 

Chantal: No, I sent it in for approval a little bit ago. Hopefully he sees where I’m coming from.

Johnny: Writing reviews for the company you work for seems sketchy anyhow. Have you asked your boss about doing something different?

Chantal: Not yet. He’s been pretty receptive to my ideas so far, but I don’t want to be too pushy.

Johnny: You don’t want to be pushy? You spent our entire childhood telling all of our teachers that their classroom management skills sucked and explaining how to run their classrooms for maximum efficiency.

Chantal: Well, this is different. If I play my cards right, I could be at this company for a long time. I want to make an impression, but I also have to know my place.

Johnny: Wait, your boss isn’t the guy that you have a thing with, right?

Chantal: I don't have a thing with him. We’re keeping it professional. Why does that matter anyway?

Johnny: I don’t know. I just hope you’re not doing the “cool girl” thing where you’re being overly agreeable so a guy will like you. That’s some dumb shit that Mom would tell you to do.

Chantal: That’s not what I’m doing. I just want to be a good employee. Besides, I don’t think being agreeable is a bad thing. A lot of guys get intimidated when they see how driven I am. Maybe I need a softer approach.

Johnny: That’s because those guys think they’re “alphas” and can’t stand the idea of a woman being independent and successful. You don't want that type of guy anyway.

Chantal: Oh, I didn’t realize I was talking to the World’s Best Male Feminist. You’re reading way too much into this. All I’m saying is it’s good to have a little balance. Why don't you go hang out with your girlfriend or something?

Johnny: Ok, I’ll go see my girlfriend that I respect as my equal. I hope playing it cool with your very professional boss works out for you.

Chantal: Oh, don’t worry, it will. Jackass!

Johnny: Love you, sis!

Chantal: Love you more, bubs!

[Chantal calls Nico]

Chantal: Hi Nico, I’m sorry to bother you, but I need to talk about my latest review.

Nico: Sure, Chantal. I just got it approved for publishing. What’s up?

Chantal: Well, I and a lot of other people experienced some unpleasant skin issues after using the Come Together couples lube set. I just figured Ambrose would want to look into the issue before any positive reviews are published. It wouldn’t be a good look for the company if something turns out to be wrong with the product, you know?

Nico: You’re right about that! Thanks for letting me know, Chantal. I’ll reach out to Ambrose so she can find out what’s going on and I’ll make sure the review doesn’t get published. Good looking out!

Chantal: Anytime!

Previous | Beginning of story | Beginning of chapter | Next

[cyb3rscoups]

Patience and Desire

A/N: Modern AU where Attoye are business partners. Explicit Content ahead so MDNI. Enjoy <3

Patience and Desire on Ao3

His hair fell over his shoulders perfectly, making his broad shoulders and chest seem that much bigger. He slouched slightly in the chair in front of her desk. His suit strained against tone muscle and massive height. He just looked like he could yank her up and-

“Okoye are you listening?” Attuma sighed, tilting his head at the woman.

“Sure. What was it? Something about the consumer reaction?”

“The investors don’t think it’s worth funding anymore and frankly neither do I.”

Okoye sucked her teeth, relaxing her body against the leather of her office chair. “Attuma, have you no faith in me still? After all these years?”

“I trust you. But lately you’ve lost your touch. I can’t risk everything I’ve built on your half assed hunches anymore.”

A pause of silence as Okoye took another once over of him. He was worried about how the new idea would hit the market but behind those eyes were a glint of hope. Hope that Okoye would make a decision, a decision that would save her ass and his.

“I hear you. How about we discuss a bit more over lunch?” She perked up, pulling out her phone and looking up some restaurants.

“I can’t stay for lunch. I gotta get back. The place is probably in shambles without me.” Attuma cleared his throat as he rose out of his seat.

“You should think about revamping the place then. Come on Attuma. I want a poke bowl. How’s that sound?” She continued scrolling on her phone as food options flooded her screen.

He so badly wanted to say yes and hand over his card for her to spend endlessly. He would swoon for her and do everything she asked. And if he could trust himself alone with Okoye without the risk of her employees walking in on them, he would definitely say yes to lunch. But he couldn’t.

“I can eat later Okoye. It was nice seeing you but keep what I said in mind.”

“You’re no fun, baby.” She tossed her phone onto the desk and crossed her arms. “If not lunch, then dinner?”

This woman would end him one day. “I have plans.” He lied, running a hand through his hair.

“Like what?” She raised a brow, testing his patience to its limits as her desire had none.

“Like…working.”

“You’ll work your self to death.”

“If you got your shit together I wouldn’t have to. You’re being reckless.”

“It’s not reckless to want you.” She smiled reducing whatever thoughts in his head to pure atoms.

He wanted to kiss her on those plush lips of hers, wrap a hand around her throat if she tried to let up.

“Goodbye Okoye.” He grabbed his bag and left her office, releasing a quiet groan when the door closed behind him.

It was a long drive back to his own office and by the time he wanted to squeeze in a quick nap, the vehicle was halting to a stop in front of the building.

Namor, his assistant, waiting for him at the doors.

Attuma had barely gotten a moment to breathe before Namor was on his heels.

“How did it go? What did she say?”

“Nothing she hasn’t said before. It was like talking to a wall. A very seductive, attractive wall.”

“Did she ask you to lunch again?”

“Yes and I said no.”

“Why do you keep doing that? That woman is in love with you and you keep rejecting her.”

“Because she is not in love with me. She wants to fuck me. Big difference.”

“Not really.” Namor followed him into the elevator, pressing the button for the top floor. “You should do it one day. Just call her up here and get it over with. If that’s truly all you believe that she wants.”

His voice had a hint of knowing. Like he knew it wouldn’t be a one time thing. That one of them would break and before they knew it, a baby and a wedding would be on the way.

“Shut up and hand me what I need to sign.”

A stack of papers went his way as the elevator dinged. Attuma stepped out and made a beeline for his office, slamming the door shut and dropping the papers at his desk.

He let out an exasperated sigh as he stripped of his suit jacket and unbuttoned his shirt. Heat over took his body as he fumbled with the buckle of his belt and undid his pants.

Tugging them down, his painful erection sprung free.

All it took was another thought of Okoye for it to throb against his hand. Her soft lips adorned in a gloss he wanted smeared all over him. Her flesh he wanted to grip in his hands til it bruised.

He wanted to fill her up just how she wanted and break her apart piece by piece until all that was left where glistening tears of her pleasure.

He wanted to be able to rip all the noises out of her throat and hear his name on her lips as she crumbled under him. He wanted it all.

Warm spurts of cum coated his hand as he groaned and his legs almost gave out.

The guilt hit him like a truck as soon as his hand was clean and his pants were tugged back up. Ignoring his flushed cheeks and haze of arousal, he sat at his desk and began signing.

I’m feeling like a part 2 to this one

[moreespressoformydepresso]

sometimes i think about like. what if. the tributes escape, they're running around, trying to get things together. and somehow they get caught. how, we don't know, but imagine a peacekeeper comes across them and has a choice to make. obviously peacekeepers can't have families, but they weren't born without them. this one peacekeeper, maybe wovey reminds him of his little sister. or hy reminds him of his first love, the one he never got to act on. or he's some fresh young recruit who feels like in another life, the likes of sheaf or otto or whoever could have been a friend.

and he lets them go.

even other capitol citizens. some socialite might be more privy to give facet and velvereen more leeway, after all, they're one of the 'good' districts, aren't they? or a shopkeeper lets mizzen or treech get away with stolen goods because they remind him of his kids. or hell, imagine one of them manages to find work, and the supervisor should have half a mind to report it, but teslee knows what she's doing and she's doing it better than the other suckers, it'd be stupid to report her, even if she *is* an escaped tribute. lots of little things build up over time. a story where 24 kids don't escape on their own, it takes a whole village to help them.

That’s beautiful I love it. I had ideas of like- the mentors maybe letting them go if they spot them or even actively helping them escape in some cases, but just random citizens? That’s honestly even better. Because to me, a big part of why so many Capitol citizens were okay with the games is because they had enough distance to it to not care. It’s a once a year thing they can ignore if they want, and they do. Just some district scum, right? So who cares? And when they’re in a literal cage it reinforces that distance. They’re not “like us”, so it’s okay. No need to spend time and emotional energy thinking about it. Especially after what they did to you during the war ten years ago!

But when you’ve spend years fighting with the belief that you’re protecting your people, and you used the image of scared dying Capitol children to fuel you, I imagine it hits so hard to look at a terrified child staring down the barrel you’ve got pointed at them. Maybe the peacekeeper had a realization that they are the monster they’ve been fighting. And in the split second that they realize convincing themself it’s not true isn’t gonna change anything, they let the tribute go.

Teslee and Circ are 100% better employees than anyone in that city. No rationalizing necessary it’s just basic business. And they don’t even ask for much, so it’s win win! Also they’re nice kids, it would suck to see them suffer or even die and if they go into the games only one can get out. So eh, might as well give them some basic necessities.

I think it would probably start with Velvereen and Facet. They are “the good ones” so if anyone’s gonna be let go it’s them. Maybe it gets filmed or something and it’s broadcast in an attempt to get Capitol citizens to look out for the tributes and tip off the peacekeepers. And that video makes the citizens go “oh well, at least it’s the good ones and not one of those backwards savages”. Except once you accept the notion that some of these kids are fine, that slowly starts to trickle over into your perception of the others. If the ones from 1 are fine, the ones from 2 are too right? Because those get lumped together a lot since they’re more well fed. And the boy from 2 is pretty similar to the ones from 11 and 12 so maybe those districts aren’t too bad either. And if the girl from 11 isn’t so bad, well she’s like the tributes from 8 and the boy from 4. And the girl from 12 is a performer like the boy from 7 (actor/performer Treech supremacy). Soon enough the network is complete and we’ve got all the tributes being noted as kind of okay, maybe. So when a clearly starved child steals food, well the shopkeeper didn’t really need that lost income. They can miss it, so it’s not worth the energy to even report. And it slowly escalates from there until we have a district-sympathizer Capitol.

[minorisato]

gay cannibalism, hold the cannibalism

dead plate / coal fired heart / wc: 1568 / warnings: NA / notes: these two were all i wrote for like. a solid week

“Rody, see me in my office for a moment.”

Ah, shit. Handing off his tray to another server– with a quick apology– Rody prepared himself to be fired from his 29th job. Normally, if Vincent called him into his office, it’d be after a blatant fuck-up, and he’d lecture Rody for a bit and then send him on his way, maybe throwing in a vague threat– threat?– or two before doing so. This time, though, Rody didn’t think he’d done anything wrong. Most customers really liked him, right? He could be a little slow, sure, but wasn’t he doing alright, all things considered? He really didn’t want to look for a 30th job, 28 prior establishments was bad but 29 was worse, and he’s running out of options–

“Is something wrong, chef?” He’d asked, keeping his hands tucked behind his back, trying to cover his nerves. Maybe if he looks especially sweet and polite, Vincent will change his mind about firing him.

Vincent pressed his cigarette to the ashtray nearby, snuffing out the flame. He wore the same blasè, almost-bored-definitely-annoyed expression he always wore. “You’ve been working here for three weeks now,” he started.

Rody nodded. Just smile and nod, look polite, don’t lose your job. Rody thought back to his nightmares of being trapped in meat packaging. He’d stopped having them after the first week, but still, the fear lingered with him. He’d chocked it all up to nerves regarding starting a new job, and he didn’t want to experience that same anxiety– those same nightmares– again. He needed this.

Vincent nodded back at him. “You’re getting a raise.”

Rody’s jaw dropped. “What?”

The chef raised an eyebrow at Rody. “What do you mean, what? Do you not want a raise? I can take it back.”

“No, no!” Rody shouted, before reeling himself in. “I mean, yes. Yes, I would like the raise, I– uh– I appreciate it.” His hands fall to his sides, and his smile is genuine. He wasn’t certain if Vincent could tell just how badly he needed this job, but a raise was better than he could hope for.

Vent leaned forward on his desk, scratching his chin. Still, his expression barely shifted. “Yes, well. Starting wages are small, but your work has been extremely promising so far.”

That was fantastic. That was, very possibly, the best news Rody had gotten since getting dumped. Vincent was always so nice to him. Where he would yell at and demean other employees, it seemed like he would treat Rody with distinctly more kindness than the others. Sucks for the other employees, but Rody wasn’t going to complain, not when he’d gotten so lucky–

“Rody,” Vincent started, pulling him out from his thoughts. “Back to work.”

The redhead nodded to his boss, practically bouncing. “Yes, chef.”

~~~~

Getting a raise, Rody figured it’d be okay to dip into his savings a little. With the extra money coming in, it’d be recovered soon enough, and he deserved to treat himself when even Vincent thought he’d been doing a good job.

Holding the bottle in his hands now, though, he was starting to think he’d spent too much. Did he really need this? He was charming enough as-is, right? Something like this was excessive. This wouldn’t affect rent, right? Could he pay his phone bill? Should he hold off on calling Manon for a night or two? Was this really worth the price?

Tossing the bottle back and forth between his hands, he sighed. It smelled nice, at least. No point in not using it, he supposed, now that he actually had it.

~~~~

“What on Earth are you wearing, Lamoree.”

Rody froze, almost dropping the tray he’d been holding– thankfully, it didn’t have any food on it, belonging to a table that he’d been cleaning. He turned to his boss, whose expression shifted from minorly annoyed, as always to vaguely inquisitive. “My uniform?” He answers, smiling awkwardly.

“That’s not what I meant,” Vincent groaned, “you smell different than usual.”

Rody ignored the strange feeling that went through him at the thought of Vincent noticing how he smells and let out a somewhat-relieved ah. At least he wasn’t wearing his uniform incorrectly. “I bought– well, since you gave me that raise, I ended up buying some cologne. I don’t normally wear any, but it seemed like a nice thing to splurge on.” He deliberately avoided how his splurging made him retroactively panic.

Vincent nodded, glancing up and down, seemingly sizing him up. “Lemon.”

“Are– are you allergic?” Rody asked, “I can try and wash it off, and I won’t wear it tomorrow–”

“No,” Vincent interjected. “No, it’s fine. It smells nice.” He huffed, rolling his eyes. “If I was allergic, I wouldn’t be able to speak to you right now.”

Rody sighed in relief, happy his money hadn’t gone down the drain. “Right, of course.”

After a moment of some– honestly awkward– eye contact, (which had made Rody shrink in on himself a bit,) Vincent turned, making his way back to the kitchen. “Like I said, it’s fine. I like it. Customers might like it, too.”

Nodding to himself, Rody turned back to the table he’d been cleaning off. For some reason, hearing that Vincent liked the smell made him… very happy.

That probably doesn’t mean anything.

~~~~

The day ended up, overall, going quite well. As Vincent predicted, Rody got a few nice comments about his cologne, though none made him as happy as his boss’ comment.

Rody wasn’t trying to dissect that. He wasn’t. He still didn’t consider himself exactly over Manon– perhaps it’d be easier if she would return his calls– and getting dumped was no reason to start getting weird feelings for men. It was, Rody told himself, definitely some weird rebound thing where he was just taking any praise he could get. He didn’t like Vincent. Rody wasn’t gay. And even if getting dumped did suddenly turn him gay, he shouldn’t be dragging Vincent into it. Vincent was nice to him, sure, but his boss’ compliments didn’t mean anything, the way they made his chest tighten didn’t mean anything–

Not dissecting it. It definitely was not unraveling out of his control.

His shift had gone fine, and the last customers to leave had given him a generous tip. Definitely appreciated, with his recent poorly-thought-out purchase. Looking at the clock, he found he still had a few minutes before his shift was technically over. He’d best make himself useful, he figured, and made his way to take out the garbage.

Upon stepping outside, Rody found Vincent standing nearby, angrily staring down at an unlit cigarette. After tossing the garbage in the dumpster, Rody strode over to his boss. “Getting one last cig in before closing?”

Vincent tsked. “Yes, trying to. I’ve lost my lighter, though.”

“Oh,” Rody let out, and went fishing through his pockets. He retrieved a box of matches, and quickly pulled one out for his boss. “I always carry these on me. You never know when you’re gonna need them,” he laughs nervously, and strikes the match, extending it to Vincent.

Eyes widening a tad, Vincent crossed his cigarette with the fire, finally allowing it to light. He takes a quick drag and visibly relaxes. After a moment, his gaze shifts back to Rody. “First you season yourself, and now you’re standing over an open flame.”

Smiling anxiously, Rody quirked an eyebrow. “Pardon?”

Vincent sighed, and very suddenly, Rody felt a hand gripping the back of his hair, dragging him forward. Vincent surged upwards, lips crashing into Rody’s, causing the redhead to jump, dropping the match to the ground. A second later, disconnecting momentarily, Vincent stomped it out. His lips found their way back to Rody’s, still holding his head in place with those hands, those fingers which gripped knives so steadily. Rody was physically larger than Vincent– both of them could tell that. If Rody wanted to push Vincent away, he could.

He did not.

Rody merely stayed there, not quite kissing back and not quite retracting, simply letting Vincent do as he wished. It felt shockingly nice. Vincent’s lips were soft, and if Rody wasn’t so panicked, he might actually enjoy the sensation. After a few more moments, the chef pulled back, his cheeks ever so slightly tinted pink.

Rody, feeling things he was trying very hard to ignore, laughed loudly, panicked. “What?”

Another sigh came from the shorter. “You can’t possibly be this dim.”

“No, I’m–” Rody stuttered. “I’m dim, I’m extremely dim, I’m downright dull. What, exactly– You just. You kissed me.”

Vincent nodded, hand still gripping Rody’s hair. Strands were likely falling out. “Yes, I did.”

“But I’m a man.”

Vincent raised an eyebrow. “Yes? I’m gay, Rody.”

Rody felt paralyzed, completely uncertain of himself. His immediate thought process was that Vincent must have noticed how he was feeling, and must have felt obligated to do this. Vincent was so handsome, surely he had women lusting over him, why would he be gay? “I’m so sorry,” Rody found himself apologizing, still uncertain, but this was… probably? The right thing to do?

Immediately, Vincent looked more annoyed. “Why are you apologizing?” He asked, tone sharp.

“For–” Rody gulped. “For making you be gay?”

Confusion graced Vincent’s face. “Are you not gay?”

“I don’t know?” Rody admitted, and why would he say that? His feelings started spilling from his mouth before he could think to stop them. Typical Rody, letting his heart get ahead of his brain. “I got dumped by my girlfriend really recently but since I started working here I’ve really liked all the– the you being nice to me, and it makes me feel a weird way and I think it might be something, like, I don’t know, I don’t wanna say love, but it’s weird and different and I’m not used to it, and it’s lead to me thinking about you a lot and you’re very handsome and–”

“Rody,” Vincent interjected, and immediately the redhead shut his mouth. “Did you like being kissed?”

The waiter thought for a bit. “Well, I– I did, yeah.”

“Then stop spinning your head in circles,” the chef commanded, “and let yourself enjoy it.”