#like face planting into the ground sometimes help

[jei-rifni]

My family hates my sense of humor (and so i will project them unto Kakyoin)

[ffsg0jo]

same universe as this post. you don't have to read it beforehand, but it helps 🤭

even when yuuji's much older and has his own room, he's still woken up by sukuna's old man noises™ in the bathroom at 7am.

the poor, almost adult just wants to sleep in for a little longer and rest his weary bones, but sukuna's snorting and coughing and hacking his life out in the bathroom down the hall.

yuuji doesn't know how you do it, to be honest. between the snoring and old man-isms, the way he seems to have a permanent frown on his face. you've been by his uncle's side for as long as he can remember, acting as a mother figure to yuuji. always patient and caring, standing your ground against sukuna who can be bull-headed sometimes (a lot of times), and ultimately doing everything you can for the little family they've created.

he truthfully doesn't remember life without you, and quite frankly, he doesn't want to remember. ever since he was a toddler, you were his sun, yuuji your sunflower, absorbing your warmth and love.

you stayed by their side throughout everything; the ups, the downs, the twisty turvies. never once have you tried to replace his biological mum or even referred to yourself as his mother. but yuuji sees the way your eyes shine with pride and joy when looking at him.

he can see it in your face now as he walks into the kitchen, yawning. you notice him immediately while plating up everyone’s breakfast and attempting to escape sukuna's embrace, who's clinging onto your back like the leech he is.

“dammit woman, just let me hold you,” he growls, tightening him arms around you and kissing up and down your neck.

“sukuna,” you gasp, “not in front of yuuji!”

the giant of a man slowly lifts his face up from your neck and turns to side-eye yuuji. he lets go of you and sighs, grabbing the plates you’ve prepared, setting them on the table.  

“mornin’ brat, sleep well?” he asks yuuji.

“not with all your snoring, he didn’t.” yuuji laughs at your response.

“i don’t snore woman.”

you and yuuji share a look, completely in disbelief at the man’s denial. he’s woken himself up with how loud he is, many, many times. neither of you can believe he has the audacity to stand there and lie with a straight face.

you both scoff and yuuji sits down at the table, in no mood to deal with his uncle’s nonsense this early in the morning. you move towards yuuji planting a soft kiss on his cheek and ruffling his hair.

“sorry he woke you up yuuji,” you say warmly, kissing him once more.

“if anything i should be apologising to you, you’re the one that has to put up with him for the rest of your life,” the boy responds, looking up at you solemnly, genuinely sorry for you.

“i can hear ya both,” sukuna rumbles, mouth full of egg. “anyways, finish eating and make sure you’re ready by 10”

yuuji turns to you in confusion, and sees your face light up, practically buzzing with excitement.  

“where we going?” yuuji asks

you wrap your arms around him tighter and press his cheek onto yours. he basks in your affection and leans impossibly closer towards you.

“it’s a surprise,” you giggle.

yuuji’s face twists in confusion as he stares at the shiny, brand-new motorbike in front of him. it was beautiful, and he’s always dreamed of having that exact model, but he was confused at to why they were there at the dealership. is this some cruel joke? he looks at you though, and shakes the thought out of his head. you would never do that to him.

“you like it, yuuji,” you ask, a broad smile on your face, eyes shining with glee.

 “s’ beautiful,” he nods in response.

his uncle pats his back and lifts his hand up, his own tattooed hand pressing something sharp and chunky into his palm. yuuji looks down and sees… keys?

“she’s all yours,” sukuna smirks, revelling in the disbelief on yuuji’s face. he seems to be frozen for a good 20 seconds, just processing what he’s heard. you and your husband share a smile. it suddenly hits yuuji that the motobike is all his, and his face splits into the widest grin.

“i love you both so much” he whispers, tearing up and throwing himself into sukuna’s arms and an arm around your neck.

the man steadies himself as you both tumble into him, heart suddenly panging at how big his nephew has gotten. it seemed like only yesterday when he was barely up to his shins, and now he was eye level?

sukuna hides his teary smile in yuuji’s hair, tightening one arm around you and softly rubbing his nephews back with his hand.

“yeah yeah, love ya too brat.”

© ffsg0jo 2024 — do not plagiarise, repost, modify, or translate any of my work, in any way shape or form; i will piss in your cereal if you do. all work belongs to me and me only.

[deadghosy]

HEADCANNONS OF HAZBIN HOTEL CREW WITH CATNAP! READER

Prompt: you are a resident in the hotel who makes sure people sleep. No one gets out of your grasp of not sleeping.

Warning: you aren’t an experiment, you died to og catnap’s smoke as you coughed going to hell. Also this might be long based on how your reading speed is.

I headcannon you to always walk around at night around the hotel making sure the hotel cast sleeps as you don’t sleep much either.

“I ensure you my friend I don’t need-" immediately Alastor passes out on the ground as the red smoke exit your mouth as you soullessly stare at the powerful man’s body with your creepy smile.

You don’t give a fuck- you are quite ruthless when putting someone to sleep. You had a smug teeth smile as you dragged Alastor by his leg to his room.

Angel was hiding in the hallway scared as red smoke covers the halls. “Shit…” he says as he eyes your tall figure walkby around the other side of the hall as your red smoke exiting your mouth follows

He was absolutely fucked. Angel tried to turn to run only to bump into purple fur as he holds himself at your chest. He blushes seeing your smug smile down at him.

Before he could protest the red smoke hits his face as your wrap your tail around his waist. How did you get so damn quick beside him?! You put him on your shoulder as you walked to his room to lay him down.

No one knows…..

Now when it’s morning time, you aren’t out as usual. Only at night time as you are use to being up at night helping other sleep. It’s part of your purpose and role as you even have a moon 🌙 pendent on your collar.

Hell, Angel is the most closest to you because he has rough times sleeping after working. He wouldn’t tell you what he does but all you know. He is physically and mentally tired from his job as you hold him in your soft arm as you let out red smoke from your mouth.

Your fur smelling like vanilla and lavender helps him sleep as he cuddles into your soft purple fur as you watch tv with a bored expression. Your ear twitches as Angel snores loudly.

Your red smoke is the only smoke he likes that is red.

Charlie found you at her door of the hotel and questioned you to why you wanted to work here. And what did you say.

“I want to help people sleep…” you said with a raspy deep voice as you smirked at Charlie who seemed a little unsure at your smirk as it seemed full of confidence and sinster. But she liked your determination as she hired you.

Of course I headcannon catnap’s fur and so as yours to smell like lavender to match the soft smell of sleeping to help residents sleep better than they ever have.

I also headcannon you have claws that can be retract like a cat. You usually use your claws/nail to cut something for the crew, or to protect from demons or sinner trying to harm the hazbin hotel.

CREW HEADCANNONS!

I headcannon husk walking to you grumbling drunk as he drops on your body without you even needing to use your smoke on him. Honestly you patted him as you both were cats. You both purr in each other presences. Angel and Charlie recorded the moment to save for their whole life.

I headcannon after Lucifer moved in the hotel. He was definitely scared if you because of your endless wide ass gaping smile. But after you actually showed you can stop smiling like that. He stopped having nightmares of you🦆. Poor little duck man had to hold his covers hearing your big ass steps around the halls.

I headcannon Angel and you sometimes compete trying to see who’s chest fluff is most fluffy.

…and you won💀

Literally what did he think when a 8ft tall cat creature who can make you pass out and hallucinate things have much more softer fur than him.

I headcannon Nifty one time tried to make you take a bath, but dead ass you blow the smoke in her face as she face planted on your paw. You laid her on the couch as you walked upstairs to go to bed on your own.

I headcannon that Charlie sometimes tries to make you sleep with the other residents rather than you forcing others to sleep. It didn’t work out well as you stilled stayed up to knock people out.

Lucifer one time tried to talk to you…but he couldn’t get the hang of you being 8ft tall…it actually intimidated the king of hell himself as he gulps staring up at you. He forced you to get down low like a cat to face him as he pets you.

You purred of course with your usual grin making Lucifer blush as he rubs his face in your fur with a star gazed expression. Literally star in his eyes as he actually fells relaxed by the smell of lavender. 

Alastor hates you sometimes, but he loves how calm and quiet you are despite you knocking his ass flat like a bug getting hit with a fly swatter. But he appreciates how you care for people’s health and sleep schedule.

Pentious absolutely loves you as his egg boiz cuddle up to you if it’s winter. You smile your smug smile as you whistle at the eggs who seem happy to be by you as Pentious also snugs himself in your fur

I kinda imagine when most people see an 8ft tall ass purple cat with white pupils with full black eyes staring at them. They piss their pants running as the whole hazbin crew hugs you admiring how soft your fur is.

Vaggie once seen you use your red smoke on angel, and she was concerned as she literally whipped out her spear at you as you only stared confused with a raised brow. You pushed the spear out of your sight explaining that angel couldn’t sleep and asked you to help.

I can see that vaggie, Alastor, and Lucifer were the last ones to actually trust you before believing you have good intentions to helping people sleep.

The ones to immediately trust you was, Angel dust, a little bit of husk, Charlie immediately with nifty and Pentious behind her.

I headcannon you basically breathing out red smoke on accident once and knocking out the whole hotel cast as you sit there with your ears down ashamed

I image angel dust pulling out one of those cat lasers to tease you. But he didn’t know that husk and you would immediately meow and purr for the laser as both of your eyes dilated. Angel died laughing as he took a picture of you falling on your back trying to grab the laser.

I headcannon vaggie to train you to fight only for you to prove her wrong when she woke up gasping for air to find out you used your smoke on her. She woke 5 hours….yeah she never doubted you ever again

I image when watching a movie with the crew, some of them lean on you like pillow while some just use your tail like a blanket while you snore like an old grandpa.

I headcannon the overlords once had a meeting about you as one of them seen you and mistook you for a new scary overlord. But Lucifer being the silly man he is, showed them a photo of you cuddling up with him on the couch. “Nah, he’s just a big ol cuddly cat..” he says with a snake smile as the overlords look at him like “What..the fuck..”

[peachesofteal]

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader - 18+ - discussion of postpartum depression, lactation kink.

Orion’s father inserted himself into your life with an authority that, quite frankly, has shocked you.

You expected him to be a dead beat. An absentee. You never really expected to find him in the first place, let alone almost run straight into him on the street.

It was almost like you could feel him on the sidewalk before you saw him. Your body knew, still carried the memories, the imprint of him lingering on your skin, inside you. Orion had his DNA in his veins, and now you had Orion’s in yours.

Shared pieces, twisted together in an imbalanced double helix-

Exposing you for all your transgressions, your failures, your misery.

It’s a special kind of shame, to look your baby’s father in the face and tell him you’re not a good mother to his child. That you’re failing Orion. That you don’t know if you can do it.

The truth is motherhood is not natural or beautiful, like everyone says it is, and it doesn’t come easy, like it seems to do for most. You don’t even feel like you’re bonded to your son, and it’s like you’re a stranger to him. More failure.

They pile advice on top of you in heaps, your mother, your aunts, the friends that have stuck around, sleep when the baby sleeps, let him cry it out, don’t let him cry it out, put him down, pick him up, don’t feed at night, don’t miss a feeding-

All the while, no one shows up. Not truly. They’re here, and there, but your previous fierce independent streak has done you no favors, and no one seems to notice you’re barely holding your head above water. They want to see the baby, hold the baby, cuddle the baby. No one wants to help you wash your milk crusted sheets or clothes, no one wants to pick up your groceries or do your dishes. They want to bring a roast for your fridge, and then they want Orion.

And it’s easy to fake getting by. Struggling but smiling. Motherhood is such a joy. It’s so wonderful. Being a single mom is tough, but worth it. It’s…

It’s so hard.

You don’t have a schedule, a life, a sense of normalcy. Instead of sleeping when Ry does, you cry. You don’t feel like yourself, you don’t know how to do this, you don’t know how you’re even going to make it to the next day sometimes.

And no one really seems to notice you, until Simon shows up.

Simon, who doesn’t seem to care that you’ve tried to assure him you’re fine. Simon, for all intents and purposes, has put a foot down and refused to budge. Simon, who no matter how hard you try to tell him you’re okay, has shouldered his way into your life without a single complaint about the sudden fatherhood thrust upon him.

He’s a stranger, at the end of it all, a man you shared a single night with, a man you know almost nothing about.

Even though that night has always felt like so much more, an impossible connection built in the dark between indecipherable words and whispers.

And now this stranger has planted on himself on the ground in front of you, like a tether to reality. A land line to your sanity. A hand to hold…

A person who sees you.

“I’m right here,” he promised, “I’m going to take care of you.”

He wanted in, and you stopped coming up with reasons or excuses to fend him off. You bent and bent and bent under the pressure of being a mother until you broke-

And he was there.

Someone is calling your name. There’s a gentle hand on your shoulder, and then smoothing over your forehead, fingertips lingering on the apple of your cheek. You blink fuzzily, slowly realizing you must have fallen asleep on the couch. “C’mon mama, let’s get you to bed.” You peer over his shoulder at the kitchen, barely registering how clean it is, the lack of dirty dishes, the empty trash can, the wiped down cabinets and countertops.

“Sorry… I fell asleep. I should’ve-“

“It’s alright, wanted to let you get some rest.” His arms, massive and corded with muscle, slide under your knees and back, and you study his tattoos as intently as you can, for being half asleep. “‘m gonna pick you up.”

“Okay.” You sigh, and his chest vibrates with a low chuckle. It feels safe, you feel nearly relaxed, no fight left in you, all resistance and denial leeched from your bones. “Ry?”

“Fed two hours ago with what you had in the fridge. Still asleep now.” Warmth ghosts atop your head, and you snuggle farther into his chest, unable to help yourself.

“How long was I out?”

“Almost five hours.” You blink, and then, like his words have summoned full body awareness- you wince.

Fuck.

“What is it?” He’s immediately tense, slowly pushing open your bedroom door.

“I’m… sore.” You grimace, trying to keep your chest away from him as he lowers you into bed. “They’re… he usually eats… sooner. They get… too full.” Your face burns, humiliated and awkward. Nothing like telling your very attractive baby daddy that you’re full too of milk. His head cocks.

“Is there a way to fix that?” He’s sitting at your hip, hand casually braced on your thigh, thumb rubbing circles overtop the sheet.

“I could pump but, it really hurts.” Your voice cracks on the admission. You can’t imagine anything you want to do less in this moment, especially with him here. “A warm washcloth usually helps but…”

“I’ll get one.” He tips forward at the waist, and presses a kiss right to your forehead. “Stay put.” You lean back against the pillows, and close your eyes. You hear him the bathroom, tap running, door opening and closing, and then the bed dips. “Can I help you with that?” He points at your t shirt, and you nod. Lifting it over your own head sounds uncomfortable, and you don’t even flinch when his fingers brush your stomach as he peels it up and over.

There’s a moment, a quiet one, where you just stare at each other. His eyebrows crease, dark brown eyes turning soft and sweet, flicking down to your lips and then back up. It’s frighteningly intimate, being so vulnerable, rubbed raw by motherhood and then comforted by the man who gave it to you, and when you look into his eyes, you can feel it all, everything you felt that night, the connection, the desire to know more, feel more, push past everything and dig until your strike true, until you can touch his heart.

Maybe it’s the hormones. The baby. The fact that he’s here, holding you steady, true to his promise.

You loop a forearm over the back of his neck, and tug, jolting him forward, close enough that your noses touch, and his lips graze yours before he pulls back, cradling your face with his free hand. “Want somethin’ mama?”

“Yes.” You whisper. Your breasts ache, but the pain is second to the way you drown in his dark gaze.

“Need you to ask for it, sweet girl.”

“I- I want… to kiss you.” It feels like taking a plunge, ripping a band aid off, and he only smiles at you in return, before leaning in and pressing his mouth to yours.

It’s a memory. An explosion. A rush of the last time, the first time, the only time. Ocean water, spring air, woodsmoke under your fingertips. Fragments of a few favorite things, sealed in a kiss. A dizzying ride that sucks you dry, spills your blood into his, twists the two of together until you’re not sure if you’ll ever be able to let go.

You almost, almost whine when he pulls away.

“Washcloth is cold.” He murmurs, making his way back to the bathroom and restarting the process. His muscles flex under his t shirt as he turns the sink on and off, wringing the cloth out. You unhook a bra strap, and when he returns to the seat at your hip, you gulp.

“T-thanks.” You reach, but don’t tug it into your grasp. Instead, the side of your arm bumps against the swollen firmness of your breast, and you hiss.

“I’ve got you. Let me help.” He says softly, peeling the fabric away until you’re exposed, darkened nipples straining in the dim light of your bedroom. Fingertips trace barely there touch across your skin, and he whispers reverently. “You feed our baby with these, mama.”

“They hurt.” Your voice trembles, and he nods sympathetically.

“I know.” He presses the cloth to your skin, brow furrowed with concentration. His eyes flick up to yours, and then back down, thumb gently rubbing a semi circle under the curve of your breast. “Feel okay?” His voice is a rasp, and you nod.

“Y-yeah… um-“ you trail off, half wishing you could disappear into this bed. “I need a little bit of pressure, to help… express.” It’s the least sexiest word in the English language, you think. Express.

He palms you, gently, and then squeezes with easy pressure. The sound you make is a half moan, half gasp of pain, and he soothes you. “I know honey, I know. I’m sorry.” You tip your head back, waiting, hoping to feel the slow pulse of relief, the slow give of an ache subsiding. His thumb traces your nipple and then rolls over it, still kneading and pressing with his other fingers and palm, hot cloth starting to turn cool.

And then-

You feel it. Your body catches up to your brain, finally leaking, warmth spilling over his hand, down the front of your bra and belly. “Oh my god.” You moan, and he huffs, still rubbing your nipple in a soothing pattern, gaze locked on your chest.

“Good girl.” He murmurs, and then gives you another squeeze. “Feel good?”

“Yeah.” You tip your head to the side, watching him, tracing his nose, his lips, the shape of his eyes. Your baby’s face, through and through. “So good.” It spills over the back of his fingers and he pulls it away, lifting his thumb to his mouth. His lashes flutter against his cheeks, and a noise rumbles in his chest. “Oh-“ you lose your words. Your thoughts. Your focus. You’re frozen, confused and electric like a live wire.

“Y’taste good mama. Sweet.” You gulp. He ducks his head, brushing his lips against yours briefly before dipping lower, cupping as much of you as he can and swirling his tongue across your nipple, lips closing around it and sucking with a satisfied sigh.

“Si- Simon.” It feels good. It feels wrong, that it feels good, but it does. You’re spilling into his mouth, pain and soreness flitting away by the second, strong arms cradling you close to his body. It’s the first time in a long time, that you’ve felt something, anything, close to desire. Arousal has been fleeting since having a baby, but somehow, fire burns between your legs. He pulls away, nipple popping free, and you sag in the bed. With a smirk, his eyes wander to your other side, the unattended one, heavy and full beneath his gaze.

“I’ll get a new cloth.”

[whitexwolfxx310]

|| Baby Mine ||

Pairing: Bucky x female reader || Bucky x y/n

Summary: Bucky comes home from from a mission and finds you sick. You make an appointment at the medical bay expecting a routine visit only to find out some pretty surprising news.

Warnings: Unplanned pregnancy, minor talk of options pertaining to, morning sickness, a disgusting amount of fluff, and a small sprinkle of spice at the end just because I felt like it.

Word Count: 3323

A/Ns: First and foremost, I would like to apologize for my hiatus. It was not intended and I hit a writers block. With that being said, I do have a decent amount in my drafts and have been working on getting some new things out there!

I would like to say a special thank you to @lil-darhk who gave me some encouraging words that I really needed to hear & helped get me back on here. ♥️

This is a ONE SHOT. This is not part of my BBWWS. I am still working on that but this is something I have been thinking of for a while and just felt like writing about. I know that a pregnancy troupe is not for everyone. (Personally, I love it and I'm not sure if I will write it into my other storyline.) SO because of that....I give you this. I hope you all enjoy it because the idea of Daddy Bucky to me is just 🤌🏻💋

Waking up to the smell of fresh ground coffee was always a tall tale sign of Bucky being home. Missions can be unpredictable. He can be gone for a few days, to a few weeks, and sometimes even months at a time. Luckily, this time he had only been gone about a month and a half.

Excitement took over as you forego your usual procrastinating in bed stretch to run out of the bedroom. Opening the door, the aroma was heavenly- as if a coffee shop had replaced your kitchen overnight. But your eyes immediately fixed on Bucky who was wearing a smirk while plating two separate stacks of pancakes.

“Breakfast, doll?” His voice as smooth as the warm syrup flowing down from those pancake stacks.

Running and jumping to wrap your arms around his neck was your response. Bucky chuckled, holding both arms out wider so he didn’t drop the plates. He put them down gently onto the counter so that his arms would now be only consumed with you.

“I missed you too.” You don’t have to look up from being buried in his chest to know that he’s smiling, it’s in the lighthearted tone of his voice.

Leaning back slightly with his arms still holding you, he looks into your eyes and plants a petal soft kiss on your lips.

“How come you didn’t wake me up when you got in?” You frown slightly looking up at him.

He shakes his head slightly and shrugs, “You just looked so… peaceful. I couldn’t bare to wake you up. At least, not without sustenance,” Bucky laughs.

Shifting your eyes from Bucky to the pancakes and back, your lips tug in each corner. “Smart man.”

His cooking always felt like home. It was filling, delicious, and you could almost taste the love it was made it with. “Mm,” the small noise escapes low in your throat as you take the last bite. Looking across the kitchen table, Bucky is slumped in his chair, arms folded with a warm smile as he watches you. “What?” The question comes out as a half joke and half concern.

Shaking his head slightly the smile grew. “Nothing, doll. Just missed you is all.” Leaning forward, Bucky rests his elbows on the table continuing to stare a tad bit more than normal.

“You’re acting weird.” You say, adjusting in your seat feeling slightly awkward.

“So what have you been up to while I was away?” He completely ignored your statement, asking an easy and lighthearted question.

“Um..” you start, breakfast starting to feel suddenly heavy in your stomach. “I uh-“ your teeth start to clench down as you swallow hard at the pooling saliva in your mouth. “I went out with Nat-“ your brows furrowed, starting to have difficulty with getting the words out. Bucky’s face quickly contorts to concern as you continue to fight the inevitable. “and her sister for some…s-some drinks-“ the word makes you gag.

Almost as if you channeled some super soldier serum, you pushed back from the table and ran- praying that the pressure of your hand over your mouth will be enough insurance to get to the toilet. It barely was. Breakfast came back up violently, loudly as you kneeled in front of the porcelain king. Even when you thought there couldn’t possibly be anything else to throw up, your stomach wrung on itself, forcing up every last drop of bile.

Breathing heavily into the bowl, skin now glistening with cooling sweat, you realize that your hair has been pulled out of your face. Your eyesight, now no longer blurry, sees Bucky sitting next to you; his right hand holding your hair back in a make shift ponytail and his left hand on the nape of your neck, the coolness of his metal hand being your favorite thing in the world at the moment.

“I’m sorry…” your sob echoed lightly in the toilet. “I’ve never been hung over like this before,” you sit back on your knees, grabbing some tissues to wipe your mouth. You bring yourself to look up at him through hooded and puffy red eyes, feeling instantly embarrassed. Bucky gives you a small reassuring smile as his hand gently rubs up and down your back.

“I’ve had the Russians drink me under the table a few times too. C’mon…” He helps you off of the floor, “let’s get you cleaned up.”

A warm bath, some fresh comfy clothes and a plain cup of tea seemed to make the nausea subside.

“I knew I shouldn’t have drank last night,” you say, looking into the lightly steaming mug. “My stomach hasn’t felt right in a few weeks. I actually have an appointment this afternoon in the medical bay, but I didn’t know you would be home. I can cancel it-”

“What time is your appointment?” He cuts you off,

“Um,” you look towards the wall and squint at the clock. “Actually in 45 minutes,” you laugh softly at the realization.

“Do you want me to go with you?” He offers.

“And miss your debriefing? Why, Sargent Barnes, that’s highly unlike you.” Even with not feeling great you can’t help but give him shit. This is the normal

Shaking his head softly he lets out a small laugh. “Alright,” he puts his hands up in a surrendering gesture, “but call me if anything comes up, okay? I’m worried about you.” Bucky’s voice is soft and sincere as he leans in and plants a small kiss on your forehead. His eyes hesitate, locking on yours for a moment. Leaning back in, he presses his lips to yours. “I love you. So much,”

“Love you more, Bucky.” You smile back up at him.

Sitting on the exam table in nothing but a medical gown, you swing your legs gently back and forth while gently nibbling the tip of your thumb as you wait for the provider.

You jump at the sudden knock at the door. In walks the new physicians assistant for The Compound, a young and beautiful woman who looked like she was straight out of school.

“Hi! My names Bree and I’ll be working with you today. According to the nurse who did your intake, you’re here for-“ she scrolls through your electronic chart on a tablet, “some abdominal issues. Tell me about that,” she sits down on a stool, listening intently.

“It’s.. really not a big deal,” you start, she keeps quiet waiting for you to explain in more detail. “I don’t know,” you start to fumble with a few loose strands of hair. “I’ve just felt this sort of… heaviness? It hasn’t gone away and is just always sort of there?” Your voice is unsure, feeling self conscious as you describe this silly little symptom that you felt the need to make an appointment for. “This morning I got sick. Well, I went out drinking last night, so I’m assuming I’m a little hung over.” Your words start to sound like your rambling.

“Hmm,” Bree says in response. “When was your last period?”

“Um,” the gears start turning in your head as you try to backdate events, plans that had been interrupted because of aunt flow. “About 4 months ago?” It probably wasn’t on purpose, but you could see the clinicians eyebrow raise a centimeter in question. “It��s not what you think!” You quickly try to defend, “I’m on the pill! My periods have always been irregular which is part of the reason I’m on birth control in the first place.”

“Okay,” she responds, skeptical. “And you take the pill religiously?”

“Yes,”

“Everyday?”

“Yeah…”

“At the same time?” Bree’s eyebrow inclines just a little more.

“Well,” now she has you questioning everything that you’ve said. “I always have an alarm on my phone and try to take it the same time everyday.” That makes you feel better, justified.

“Have you been sick recently? Aside from this morning, any need for any prescriptions, antibiotics?”

“I had bronchitis, but that was… god months ago?”

“Okay,” she says flatly, “so we’ll just go ahead and do a minor work up to see if we can figure out what’s going on. The first thing I want to do though, is a pregnancy test.” Even though you could feel your face change, Bree quickly added, “Routine stuff. It’s one of the bases that we always cover early on.”

You suddenly become hyper focused on the urine sample you left on the counter top, as asked by the nurse. Bree takes out a small, flat test from a nearby drawer and uses a pipette to transfer the fluid.

It could have been 30 seconds or 20 minutes, but the idea that pregnancy was even a remote possibility has your insides feeling like they’re folding in on themselves.

“Okay so,” Bree starts, getting your attention. “The test did in fact, come out positive. Since your cycles have been irregular, I’d like to do an ultrasound to see how far along you are and then we can talk about options. Just go ahead and lay back on the table, feet in the stirrups.”

"Positive?" You repeat. "But... What? How?" It comes out breathless.

"Well, sometimes antibiotics can actually cancel out the effects of birth control. We try to advise women to not be sexually active as the body might seize the opportunity to ovulate and result in an unplanned pregnancy. How about we just take a look and go from there, okay?" Bree says just a little too cheerfully as she pats the stirrups.

Following her directions is the only thing you’re able to focus on. Going through the motions of laying down, putting your feet up and opening your legs. Bree’s voice is a murmur mixed with a high pitch ringing as you look up at the ceiling tiles, counting each spect while she sets up the portable sono machine.

“Just a little pressure,” she says, guiding the wand like probe, looking at the screen. “Okay. So, judging from the size… I’d say you’re close to about 9 weeks, give or take a bit. Do you want to hear the heartbeat?” She asks, sweetly. And it’s the first time you’re able to look at her since lying down. Bree patiently waits for your answer with a warm smile. You reluctantly nod your head.

The room fills with soft, muffled whooshing. “It’s so fast. I-is that okay? Is everything okay?” You’re searching her face for any hint of something being wrong. In return, Bree just nods gently as she keeps her smile, still examining the screen.

“A fetus’ heartbeat is a lot quicker than ours. Everything looks perfect actually. Would you… like to see?”

“Yes, please.” You didn't hesitate with your answer this time.

The screen gets tilted towards you and your eyes start darting all around looking for the baby. Your baby. At first you don't see anything. It doesn't look like photos you've seen on Instagram of pregnancy announcements. But then, in the middle of what looks like a black balloon, is a bean with limbs. In the center of this bean is a lively flicker. Bree uses her index finger to point to the screen.

"There's the fetus' arms and legs," she points to the extremities, "and here," her finger gently taps on the pulsing center, "is the heart."

The whooshing matches the pace of the flicker; lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub. Hearing the heartbeat in synch with the pulsing on the screen causes your own heartbeat to match for a moment.

So this is love.

After a moment, Bree removes the probe and rips a paper from the ultrasound machine. "Here's some pictures for you," she hands them to you as you sit up on the bed. "I want to see you back here in three weeks for another check up... unless you want to discuss other options?" You shake your head. "Do you have any questions for me?"

“No, not right now.” You’re solely focused on the pictures now in your hand. Even though the image is burned into your brain, holding a physical copy has some how made it more real.

The rest of the afternoon was a whirlwind. There was no possible way that you’re actually pregnant. Even with the new noticeable symptoms and bathroom counter littered in double pink lined tests, it still seemed so unbelievable. That’s not even the hardest part. How am I going to tell Bucky?

Just as the reality starts to set in of having to tell the other adult who is directly involved, the front door to the apartment opens.

"Hey, doll!" Bucky calls loudly from the hallway, the thumping of his boots following his voice. "Sorry that the meeting ran late. I figured we could order in tonight. What about that Thai place you like?" He waits for a response while buzzing around the kitchen, no doubt making himself coffee for the dozenth time today. "Doll?" The question echoes through the quiet apartment.

"I'm in here," you acknowledge softly from the living room couch. Bucky pokes his head out from the hallway, breathing a sigh of relief.

"There you are," he starts walking towards you. "If you tell me what you would like for dinner, I'll call it in and then-" his voice and steps stop abruptly. "Hey... you okay?"

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I'm okay." You answer, obviously distracted.

"That doesn't sound too convincing," Bucky hesitated, looking you over and taking a few steps closer.

"I-I have to tell you something." Your tone is soft, scared. You’re fidgeting with the edges of your sweater sleeves.

“Is it something the doctor said?” His voice is softer now, reluctant and afraid. While his piercing, cerulean blue eyes continue to search yours for the answer, wide and terrified.

“I-“

Should I have gotten balloons? Made him open a box with one of the pregnancy tests or a cute onesie inside? Bake a damn cake?

“Y/n?!” Bucky didn’t yell but definitely had to get your attention. “You’re scaring me. What’s going on?!” He pleaded. Why were the words so difficult to say? Maybe because it hasn’t been said out loud yet. Or that it’s still so shocking. Or maybe that verbalizing it will just make it that more real. You turn on your heels and run to the bathroom.

“Y/n!!” He calls after you, but you know he’ll be just a few steps behind.

Picking up a handful of the positive tests off of the vanity counter with your heartbeat pounding in your ears in combination with his heavy footsteps getting closer.

“Seriously! What is going on-“ Bucky is flustered as he steps into the entryway and stops abruptly at the sight of you facing him, holding the tests fanned out.

“I’m pregnant.” There it is. You’re holding your breath, waiting to see what he’ll say. Aside from contraceptives, you’ve never had any kind of discussions pertaining to a family.

His face softens as he takes a step forward, his eyes hyper fixated on all the double pink lines. Bucky’s chest rises and falls deeply now. “You’re… pregnant? Not sick?” He asks to clarify, being cautious.

“Morning sickness, apparently”, a small laugh escapes and it surprises you. “But other than that, I’m fine. We’re fine.”

The ‘we’re’ part catches his attention. He’s looking into your eyes once again, searching. But, for what?

“Is this… something you want? With… me?” He suddenly sounds so adolescent and anxious. Who can blame him? This took you both completely by surprise. Knowing Bucky, he would support you in whatever you wanted. Whatever decision you thought was best for you, your body, your health in every aspect, he would respect and advocate for. He is being cautious with his response to the news until he knows what your decision is.

Putting the tests down, you take both of his hands into yours and take a deep breath.

“Bucky, if you had asked me this morning, I wouldn’t have known what our future would hold. But knowing what I know now… I want this baby. I want to be a mom and for us to be a family. That being said, I know that this is something that we never talked about. If this isn’t something you want, I underst-“

You’re suddenly cut off by his lips pressing into yours. It feels like a weight has been lifted as Bucky’s arms gently wrap around you to bring you closer. Kissing becomes increasingly difficult around giggles and the obnoxiously big smiles you’re both wearing.

When your lips finally part, Bucky’s eyebrows are raised in excitement. His eyes are darting around your torso as if the news would suddenly show physical changes on your body.

“I can’t believe it…” he breathes, “I actually get the chance to be a Dad-” The word comes out almost as a choked sob. My heart.

Reaching into your back pocket, you pull out the ultrasound Bree had given to you earlier, holding it up for him to see.

"Look, our baby's first photo!"

Bucky takes the picture as gently as if someone were handing him an actual newborn baby. He just stares, probably confused as to what he was looking at similarly to you just a few hours ago.

"I know it doesn't really look like anything right now- but I go back in a few weeks and-"

"Are you kidding?" He looks up from the black and white photo to meet your eyes, a watery sheen coating his own. "This is the most amazing thing I have ever seen in my life." Bucky says softly, as if to himself, looking back down at the picture. And he's smiling. A genuine, heartfelt smile.

That night was the closest he had ever held you in his arms. The two of you made up for lost conversations and started planning for your future and what it held as you laid in bed. Bucky talked about how he wanted to build a crib instead of buying one and was curious what the appropriate amount of time was to wait until you could both start telling everyone. Excitement was an understatement for this man.

"Can I go with you to your next appointment?" He asked, in a hopeful tone as his fingers traced along smooth, soft circles around your belly button. You giggle, wincing at one specific caress.

"Hey! That tickles! But, of course you can. You can come to all of them. I was... kinda hoping you would?" In return, your tone holds the same anticipation.

"I wouldn't miss it." Bucky's palm flattens against your belly as he places a kiss against your temple.

"Don't get used to that," You say looking down. "We're going to start growing and getting bigger any day now." You fake a frown, although there is a small part of you that isn't necessarily faking.

"Hmm." A low hum vibrates from the back of Bucky's throat as he shifts his body down along yours.

His fingertips skim the hem of your sleep shirt before pulling it up and exposing your stomach. The coolness of the air makes your abdomen tighten, but is soon replaced with petal soft kisses. "When you say 'grow', I hope you mean grow more beautiful by the day." Each firm press of his lips feels like its igniting your skin on fire with the newfound sensitivity. Your toes start to dig down into the mattress.

"Because, y/n..." Bucky repositions himself onto his knees, one now conveniently pressed in-between your legs. The pressure alone makes your heart rate spike and has you borderline panting. He hovers over you, "There isn't anything in this world I find more beautiful or more attractive than my girl carrying my child." He holds your gaze, intense and primal- more than you've ever seen.

"Do you understand?" Bucky asks with a raised brow. You nod hastily and he grins in response. "Good girl. Now, let's see if those rumors about hyper sensitivity are true. Judging by how you're writhing under me and the wet spot on my knee... I'm really going to enjoy the next few months."

If you enjoyed this, please check out my masterlist! Requests are open!

@peaches1958 @aquabrie @elsie-bells @pono-pura-vida @redbloodedgurl @almosttoopizza @beware-my-thorns @prettylittlepluviophile @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny @calwitch @ozwriterchick @roofwitty779 @lessersole @lil-darhk @agoddoesnotplead @saranghaey @erinallene @mrsvxder @elizabeth916 @cjand10 @bucky-barnes-lover @skyf-7

[heavenlymorals]

Details that I've noticed about Arthur Morgan-

-He, for the most part, despises male touch, especially if it's overly affectionate. He gets tense anytime a man hugs him and wants it to be over as quick as possible (Jamie, Mickey) and he looks visibly offended when Professor Bell touches him. He even sometimes gets annoyed when Dutch touches him on his shoulder, someone who he considers a father figure.

-On the flip side, he does not mind female touch at all. He even initiates it sometimes (Tilly, the girl at Beaver Hollow). Now one could argue that they were high stress situations, but if Tilly was a dude, he would've just set her free, make a snide remark, give her a gun, and then he'd expect her to help him with the fighting. He is completely cool with the nun giving him a hug and doesn't get offended when Mary Beth touches his hand in their therapy session.

- He seems to be pretty well read. He knows Shakespeare, with Romeo and Juliet, and Icarus. He makes other literary references. This is probably due to Dutch. Dutch is clearly very well read and cultured. However, Arthur seems more interested in practical works like guides then philosophy and stories, given that the only book he has on his tent desk is a plant guide.

- He's great at remembering faces and less so on remembering names.

- He does have an amazing propensity to remember physical features, like how he is able to create amazing portraits of the people he meets without consistent reference. It's incredible and works back to the whole great at remembering faces thing. Same goes for animals.

- He is very curious. He is always touching things, looking at things, critiquing things, and trying to understand how they work.

- He generally refuses to be emotionally open with men and does it only with women- this could be due to the idea of the Cult of Domesticity. I've made a post about it before. Compare him speaking with the nun to Reverend Swanson. Compare him speaking to John about Dutch leaving him to him speaking to Sadie about Dutch leaving him.

- He is very connected or is fond of artistic people. He and Mary Beth talk about their journals. He is fond of Albert Mason's photography and helps him out. He is interested in Charles Chataney's artistic work, even if he doesn't like it or connect with it.

- Since a lot of camp members respond to Arthur's antagonizations with something like "not again" or "I knew I'd be next", it's safe to assume Arthur will go off on people from time to time, regardless if you play high or low honor.

- Does not have a fixed temperament. In some missions, he is more energetic and in others, he is more downtrodden. Very realistic and I fucking love it.

- Has direct eye content at all times- will look anyone in the eye and does not give a fuck. NPCs will look away from him if he stares at them.

- Gets mad when men don't behave like men, especially when it concerns women. He gets pissed at John for not stepping up and being a man to his family. He gets annoyed and even pissed off when asking why Beau couldn't have helped Penelope Braithwaite as she is his woman.

- Given how the camp falls to shit whenever Arthur isn't donating, we can safely conclude that Arthur is the most valuable member of that camp, bar maybe Hosea and Dutch.

- He is very reminiscent of the Dark Romantic, which is really interesting as a lot of times, it can be looked at as the middle ground between Romantacism and Realism, two ideologies that were very popular in the 19th century. I will make a full analysis regarding this later.

- Introverted, but not shy at all. In fact, he's very charismatic and is just as good as dealing with people as Dutch and Hosea (The Riverboat Mission) This 'dumb, mumbling' cowboy thing he's dumbed down to in the fandom is an insult to his character.

- He probably acted like a father figure to Jamie Gillis when he was still with Mary, given the fact that he taught him how to ride a horse. Will probably also make a full post about this later.

- Some people say that Arthur is around 5'10-11. Others say He's 6'0-3. Whatever his height actually is, he's still way taller than the average man during this time period, who was around 5'6. Now imagine that with muscles and armed to the teeth- fucking terrifying.

- Very sentimental. He keeps a photo of his supposedly no good Pa and wears his hat. He keeps a photo of his mother who he doesn't really remember at all. He keeps a photo of his dog, a horseshoe that probably belonged to a dead and beloved horse. He keeps a flower from his mother. Keeps a photo of Mary as well. If he had a photo of Isaac, he'd probably keep that too.

-Arthur died at 36 years old from Tuberculosis if you play high honor. The real gunslinger and outlaw Doc Holliday died at the same exact age and the same exact way.

- Genuinely doesn't give a fuck about movements, social issues, and cultural issues, but does care about individual people.

- I love him

- So fucking much

- 😃

[peeweekey]

8:05 | SAM

word count: 3.2k

summary: sam’s ten heart event with a twist.

tags: winter, developing relationships, fluff, swearing, cuddling, hiding from his mother in his bed lol

a/n: this spiralled out of my control and into 3k words… enjoy!

it’s cold.

the fleece coat you’ve bundled yourself in cannot protect goosebumps from forming from the biting chill of the valley’s winter nights. your breaths come out in cloudy puffs of air, the heat slowly draining out of every exhale. it’s dark out, poorly spaced lampposts providing the bare minimum amount of light to navigate.

you got sam’s letter earlier, a clumsily written note that was stuffed haphazardly into your farm’s mailbox—the yellow lined paper he used, all crumpled and ripped.

meet me in front of my house! at 8 pm, i’ll be waiting. there’s something i want to tell you.

the ending sentence is somehow even more sloppily written compared to the ones before it. as if he was debating whether or not to add it in, but ultimately decided for it—it’s funny to imagine him hunched over his desk, stressing over what to write to you.

well, you won’t deny feeling excitement over the possibility of whatever sam has to say. if the subtle skip in your step is anything to go by.

you walk through the silent night of the town, it seems like everything’s frozen in place during the colder times of the year—everyone’s safe at home, toasty under their covers and you’d imagine thoroughly enjoying going to bed at 7 pm.

you do too, sometimes. there’s less to do when the ground is too frozen to plant any crop.

there’s a lot more free time out of the farm during the winter. you’ve really started integrating yourself with the townspeople—helping haley find her bracelet, befriending sam’s prickly coworker shane, and even discovering a shadowperson named Krobus in the town sewers. it really is starting to feel like home.

walking, you cut the corner passing by emily and haley’s house—and there he is.

he looks devastatingly handsome all dressed in winter clothing. his regular denim jacket switched out for a dark woolen coat, his pants are unripped and, surprisingly, not smeared with dirt.

though what you like most about his winter attire is his hair. those wild golden locks are laid flat under a woolen beanie—a stark difference from the spiked updo he usually does (though you like that one too). the tips of his hair are slightly curled upwards, revealing that family trait of curly hair.

you creep closer, just watching him wait for you—the way he folds his arms in an attempt to warm up, and the little shuffle he does on his feet. you laugh softly, he must’ve been waiting a while—just like you have for him.

sam turns at the sound of your laugh, his body unconsciously tilting towards you, like a magnet’s uncontrollable attracting to metal. “you made it,” he breathes, his nose, ears and cheeks pinkened by the cold.

you nod, unable to stop a bashful smile from forming on your lips. “i made it.”

a big grin splits his face, mimicking yours. underneath the lone lamplight he looks jaw-droppingly handsome. you feel yourself become warm just in proximity to him.

“i wanted to talk to you in private,” he says. sam’s buzzing with energy, surveying the dark streets before meeting your gaze with his. “it’s kinda cold out here though… i, um—i can sneak you into my room…”

your heart skips a beat, like you’ve skipped a step on a staircase. “what?” you croak.

your eyes catch onto him wringing his fingers, a nervous habit you can’t help but always notice (not because his hands are nice and interesting to look at, not at all).

“you don’t wanna?”

“no!” you inhale, trying to alleviate the twisting sensation in your gut. “i do wanna, ahem, lead the way.”

sam smiles at you, dimples and all. he leads you towards the tiny bedroom window in front of his house. the window is already open—you assume that’s where he jumped out of to meet you.

he climbs through the window with minimal effort, landing on the flooring with a dull thump!

you raise a brow. “have you done this before?”

sam stretches his hand out to you, waiting. his smile turnt sheepish. “i mean, i think we were all rebellious teenagers once.”

you resist the urge to snort—sam’s nervous, you can tell. he doesn’t have his quips and jokes tonight. and he’s shy, but eager. like a puppy, excited and curious about the world.

“o-kay,” you say, one hand in his hand the other set firmly on the windowsill. “make sure i don’t fall please.”

sam nods, eagerly. the curled ends of his hair shake along with the motion as he does.

how endearing.

you tighten your grip on his hand, hauling yourself through the small window, trying your damn best to not make any sudden noise. which is successful for the most part, only a tiny huff of exertion escapes you.

annoying, yes. but the chill of winter burns through any energy you have faster than other seasons.

your feet connect with the wood of his floor, hand still clasped in his and the chill merely at your back. it’s warm inside, with him.

his room is the same as it’s always been when you’d visit before—shelves, band equipment, posters—but the ambiance is different. a little more charged with tension so thick you could cut through it with a knife.

sam does not bother turning on his light, you don’t mind it all that much. but it takes some effort to avoid tumbling over stray objects that clutter his bedroom floor.

“look, I know I’ve been about nothing but the band for a while now…” he starts. “but I don’t want you to think that’s all i’m interested in.”

you chuckle, clasping your fingers behind your back. “it certainly takes up a big chunk of your interests.”

he pouts, literally pouts. it must be the love bug you caught because you think it’s just plain adorable. “i’m really trying over here!”

“sorry!” you grin, “okay, continue.”

“well, um… shoot, this is kinda hard, huh?” he forces an awkward chuckle. “and nerve-wrecking… but what i’m trying to say is…”

“i’m really happy that we’ve grown this close, and well…” sam looks at you, he’s stupidly red—the color spreading all over his face. “i—i’m just wondering, do you think of me as… just a friend?”

your breath stutters, and you feel yourself blushing before you can do anything to stop it. you stare at him as he does with you. the two of you locking eyes for a second, it feels like it’s just you and him in the world.

you feel your shy admittance at the tip of your tongue. no, you’d say, you’re more than that for me, if you want to be.

sam smiles at you, shy but so, so overwhelmingly bright—it’s blinding. your head is running a mile a minute when you finally get the courage—

“sam!” you hear jodi’s groggy voice from outside the door. your stomach drops with dread. “somebody’s at the door! go and check please?”

you lock eyes once again, this time for entirely different reasons, and with entirely different feelings.

“oh my god, sam,” you whisper hurriedly, panic gripping you. “your mom doesn’t know i’m here—what do we do—”

“hold on—” he replies, with the same sense of urgency as you. “okay, okay—i have a plan, just trust me, ‘kay?”

you think you might break out into a cold sweat. you look at him quizzically, “what?”

sam gives you an apologetic smile with that stupid beautiful face of his, he moves forward, grabbing you by your wrists, and moving you with him—towards his bed.

“sam!” you hiss, alarms are blaring in every corner of your mind as sam all but drags you under the toasty covers of his bed. he lifts the blanket and stations you by the edge, covering you in the blanket—which is now a lumpy mess.

this is his childhood bed you’re in, where his mother and brother are just by the door.

and his mother is calling him.

“i’ll get this over with quick,” he says to you, already heading towards the door of his room. “hang on tight, ‘kay?”

you breathe a sound of agreement, way too jittery to formulate any proper response as you quieten under the covers.

though the sheets do feel nice, and smells overwhelmingly of that specific cologne he uses (stolen from joja inventory, he told you once). you will yourself not to relax and melt into the sheets so fast. instead, you listen for each and every sound that may give hint to whatever the hell is happening.

there’s a commotion that you can hear happening, the door swings open, the hinges creaking along with it—this whole surreal experience feels a little like the confrontation part of a horror movie, the helpless victim hiding and the heavy footfalls of the killer.

though in your case, it’s not one set of footsteps, but two.

“what are you two doing here?”

“you’re the one who called us over, remember?” you can recognize the band’s shut-in pianist’s voice from anywhere. “you were all like, stop skipping practice, seb.”

sam’s voice is oddly pitchy when he responds. “…well, tonight’s no good!”

you hear the other person huff, you strain your ears harder to listen. the huffing person clearly fed up with the strange behavior sam’s putting out right now.

“my mom and vincent are asleep,” he adds hurriedly. “they’d wake up—”

you resist the urge to groan, stifling your mouth under a sweaty palm. jodie was just speaking to him minutes ago, there’s no way they’d buy that. he cannot be a more obvious liar.

thankfully they gloss over the fact. “sam, why are you acting so damn weird?” sebastian asks, straightforward as ever.

“yeah,” the other voice adds. feminine but strong. which you now identify as abigail’s, you hear a pinch of impatience in her voice. “and why are you red? did you sit outside in the snow or something—”

sam chokes, which he tries to conceal as an odd sounding cough. abigail pauses mid-sentence. the shift in the atmosphere is palpable. you screw your eyes shut, hearing the rapid rate of your heartbeat. it’s so loud you’re almost convinced the trio can hear the thumping from your hiding spot under the sheets. this is it, they’re going to discover you.

“oh, oh i see,” abigail grins. “on second thought, i wouldn't risk catching all those germs. i’m feeling starved, let’s hit the saloon, seb.”

the aforementioned man grumbles, seemingly puzzled by the sudden switch in abigail’s attitude. “huh… why?” abigail must have whispered something to him—you can barely hear over the muffle of sam’s blanket comforters. “ugh, alright. fine. you owe us one, sam.”

“oh, of course! mhm, yup,” you cringe at the immense awkwardness of sam’s response, feeling the overwhelming urge to pull out your own hair. “i’ll see you guys tomorrow, yeah? now shoo! wouldn’t wanna get you both sick or somethin’…”

“huh?” sebastian replies, rightfully puzzled as they’re forcefully pushed out of the room. “why would we see you tomorrow if you’re sick—”

“well seb,” abigail says smugly. “let’s just say sammy here is taking care of some important business—”

“okay, bye!” you hear the door click shut. to your utter bewilderment, sam shut the door in their faces.

the room is deathly quiet, the air is stagnant and stuffy. once you feel it safe enough, you crane your neck out of the blankets to check over him. to trace any lingering feeling the sudden visit might’ve given him. sam’s got his back rested against the wood of his door, his back slumped.

“i—i wasn’t expecting that,” you say quietly from your hiding spot on his bed. peeking the top half of your face, watching the door carefully. “kinda nerve-wracking.”

and embarrassing.

“i know—i’m sorry,” he sighs, rubbing his temples. “i didn’t expect them coming over.”

“sebastian said you invited them for practice, though.” you point out.

“maybe i did,” he admits, creeping closer to you on the bed, even if he’s guilty and embarrassed. “i totally forgot—i mean, i was really nervous! my mind blanks when i get nervous…”

sam stops right by the side of the bed, as if he’s waiting for your permission to get in with you—in his own bed. and to be perfectly honest, you really want him to.

“kinda ruined the atmosphere too,” he looks away from you, eyes downcast and melancholy. “i had this whole thing planned too, and i, just… ugh…”

your eyes soften. “sam, it’s really fine. okay, maybe a little shocking but you know it’s not enough to scare me away.”

he looks down at you, worried. his eyebrows are ever so slightly pinched—you wish you could run your fingers over it, and smooth it out yourself.

“plus,” you murmur, reaching over the small amount of space between the two of you to clasp his wrist. “i’m not just gonna leave… just tell me what you were going to say—before the… interruption.”

that gives you the final push to gather your courage to tug him into bed with you. sam follows, flopping onto the empty bedding next to you without a fight. for a moment, it’s just the two of you, side by side, slowly huddling closer and closer for warmth.

and sam is warm. he’s practically radiating comfy heat you wish to burrow into—or wrap yourself around. the perfect bed-partner for winter nights like these.

you find yourself becoming addicted to the feeling.

sam angles his body towards you. you on your back and him on his side, it feels intimate and special. and for some reason, it feels familiar—like you’ve always belonged by his side.

“i think you know already,” he tells you, his eyes are not clear in the dim light but you know, there are practically hearts in them. “that i like you.”

you giggle softly. “and i think you know the same about me.”

sam tentatively grasps your hand, the freezing fingertips thawing under his careful touch. the caress of his hand on yours sends tingling electricity down your spine, your whole body feels alert—alive.

he speaks again, but this time his tone is a whisper of what it usually is. “stay awhile?”

“yeah,” you swallow, squeezing his hand in your grip. a small smile on your lips. “yes, i want to.”

“good,” he smiles, his eyes crinkle at the edges so softly and the dimples on his cheeks deepen. there really is no one else who can compare for you. “hey, you’re really cold… let me warm you up?”

you turn to your side, facing him. at this angle, your faces are mere inches apart. you can trace every dip, line and curve of his face, and he yours. your hand tingles with the overwhelming urge to reach for him and squeeze.

“it is cold,” you agree. “i’d very much like that.”

“phew,” he softly sighs. sam drags his fingers up your arm, stopping at your elbow. wherever he touches, a whisper of him lingers on your skin—a bone deep imprint you yearn for him to spread all across your skin.

you roll into him with little to no effort at all. sam drags you to his chest, your ear perched right above his heart, you can hear the steady thump! of his heartbeat from underneath. sam winds his arms around you, intensifying the heat you feel by tenfold—it’s not uncomfortable at all, though. you like it.

your bodies fit perfectly together, just like puzzle pieces. a mess of limbs tangling together. the warmth of him making you shudder in honey-like delight. it feels syrupy and soft and warm wrapped in his arms.

his hand at your back travels downwards, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake you feel even through the thickness of the fabric separating the skin of your back and his fingertips. his hands feel rough and calloused at the small of your back—from playing guitar and his skateboarding incidents—but you enjoy the feeling.

you trail your fingers under the thick fabric of his jacket and shirt, feeling the smooth skin underneath—the action has no deeper meaning than you wanting to feel.

sam’s uncharacteristically quiet. his breaths are slow and long, like he’s on the verge of sleep. yet his arms are wound tight around you—like he never wants to let go of you. your nerves make you feel like a slow simmering soup. warm and slowly cooking over the fire.

you two stay entangled for a while, in comfortable silence. sometime during the night you’ve matched your breathing to his, and he pulled you somehow even closer to his body.

but, a thump comes from his window, a light tapping sound. soft but persistent. the two of you opt to ignore it, in favor of snuggling closer to each other. yet the taps continue, and become louder and faster.

disrupted by the noise, sam mournfully throws the covers from over him to check, untangling himself from your grip. leaving a very him-shaped indent on the bed left in his wake. you groan, sticking your bottom lip out, you miss the warmth of him already.

“oh shit.”

the expletive makes you sit up in his bed, the comforter draping off your middle. you can make out the shape of him even with the dimness of the light—sam’s back is towards you, and if your eyes dare deceive you, he looks like he’s shrinking into himself a tiny bit.

“what is it?” you whisper-shout to him.

he slowly turns to you, wide eyed, his shoulders stiff. sort of resembling a kicked-dog. sam bows down his head—with what you think is shame, for what reason, you can’t tell. rubbing your eyes of sleep, you furrow your brow, craning your neck to look out the window behind him.

abigail and sebastian are there, waving wildly at you. your eyes widen. abigail and sebastian are waving at you with smug smiles plastered on their faces.

your stomach drops for the umpteenth time that night. you honestly feel too horrified to speak.

you bury yourself under the sheets, a feeble attempt to conceal your mortification. so that’s why abigail was playing along with sam’s urgent ramblings—she knew (not that sam was any good at keeping a cool facade, he is totally incapable of lying smoothly). you groan, you feel like a rebellious teenager again, only the part where you get caught and utterly humiliated.

outside, you can hear the loud roaring laughter of the duo through the glass, alongside the awkward, embarrassed chatter of your newly-minted boyfriend. (not technically official, but the title succeeds to relieve your horror by the tiniest bit)

still, you stay put. through the mortification and embarrassment you still stick yourself to sam’s side, or more literally, on his bed—because you know, there’s no other place you’d rather be.

you spare another glance out of the covers at the trio—to your surprise, sam’s beat you to it. looking at you with heart eyes and the most lovesick expression (you’re pretty sure yours looks the same).

you know there’s going to be a lot more explaining to do in the morning. but it doesn’t matter to you, not right now when you’re in sam’s bed on the verge of sleep.

not when you feel so warm.

a/n: shoutout to the ass trio for making an appearance in the fic! i love you abby and seb.

[whoskimii]

cackles and requests cuddlefucking with size kink toji from my wonderful queen venus

STAWWWP you made me blush (call me that again :3)

⋆౨ৎ˚ notes > toji x you. filthy filth! he has a size kink <33 also breeding kink ig??? (bonus :3) tell me if i missed anything!! ^^ ౨ৎ warning : you may have butterflies in your belly while reading this!! 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

if toji loved something more than gambling, it was definitely the way you seemed so small beside him. of course, anyone looked tiny next to that man. it wasn't breaking news.

he had an unhealthy obsession with the way he was literally twice your size. he loved knowing the fact that he was able to do whatever he wanted to you and you couldn't fight back. even though he didn't. but only because he loved you tolerated you. it's almost like you were inferior to him, in some way.

he loved pointing that out, whether it's explicitly or implicitly. sometimes when you were cooking and tried to reach for something on a shelf that was way too high for you (poor baby :3), he'd magically appear behind you and place a massive hand on your hip before grabbing what you were looking for. he would lean down and whisper in your ear. "call me if y'need help, doll," he mumbled. "y'know you're way too small for that."

or some other times when you were observing yourself in the mirror, he hugged you from behind. at first glance, it seemed sweet. but he would never miss the chance to wrap his large hand around your throat and squeeze a little. not enough to hurt you but definitely enough to knock the air out of your lungs for a few seconds. he just loved reminding you how strong he was and how weak you were. he was almost taunting you. it was like reminding you of your place, in some sense.

it was a late night when you found yourself cuddling with toji. he loved moments like this— moments when all he could focus on was your size difference.

your back was pressed against his broad, warm chest. his face was tucked in your neck and you could feel his breath tickling your sensitive skin. you were holding a teddy bear, which he hated. yeah, he had literal beef with a damn plushie. he knew how ridiculous he was, especially for a man of his stature but in all honesty, he couldn't give two shits. he just hated the way you'd cuddle it and clutch it to your chest tightly.

the moonlight entered the room through the shutters, creating a cozy atmosphere. he lifted his head from your neck and clicked his tongue as he noticed the teddy bear. he grabbed it and threw it over his head before the plushy landed on the ground with a soft thud. you whined in protest. "toji..." you mumbled.

you were about to sit up but he prevented you from doing so. he held you to his chest and nuzzled his nose in your hair. "pay attention to me," he ordered quietly. "forget 'bout that damn bear. you should throw it, anyway. it's childish."

his words made you scoff. he was the one being childish. "but i like it... was a gift from my grandma..." he chuckled. "yeah ? she's dead, ain't she ? you can throw it away now." you rolled your eyes. "shut up."

he planted slow kisses in your neck, grinding his crotch into your ass. "to'..." you mumbled. "mhm ?" he hummed, his voice muffled by your skin. "m'tired..." he chuckled. "yeah ? don't worry, doll, i'm 'boutta do all the work." you suddenly felt his large hand sliding under your panties, which made you gasp quietly. you relaxed against his chest and hummed.

the tip of his middle finger began playing with your cute little clit as he continued kissing your neck, eventually dragging his lips down your shoulder. after he gathered enough wetness, he circled your needy entrance, occasionally prodding and pushing at it. "don't tease..." you muttered. he chuckled and finally slid a thick finger in your warm little cunnie. "theeeere you go. feels good, huh ? i don't think that shitty teddy bear can finger you this good."

you sighed, feeling the absence of the comfy plushie you normally held close. "toji... don't tell me you're jealous of him..." he clicked his tongue. "me ? jealous of a damn bear ? think again, sweet cheeks." yeah, he actually was. he even hated the way you'd refer to that stupid thing as he. almost as if it was a human. the pace of his finger picked up, which made you whine. "gunna come, to'..." he smirked. already ? "nuh-huh. keep that for my dick."

you sighed as he pulled his finger out and suddenly forced it between your lips. he watched you taste yourself, all the while pushing his sweatpants down. "m'gonna stuff you nice and full and you won't make a noise. 'kay ?" he mumbled lazily before pushing his tip to your sloppy little hole.

he entered you and once he was bottomed out in your soft pussy, he groaned. "shit." he cursed. he began rolling his hips against yours, thrusting in and out of you while keeping a disinterested expression. his green eyes settled on the teddy bear that was still on the ground and he kept staring at it as he fucked himself into your tight little heat, almost as if he was taunting the plushie.

he frowned as you clenched around him and pawed at his back. "toji..." you whimpered. the sound of his name falling out of your lips like that made him twitch inside you. "yeah ? y'want my cum, s'that it ? i know." the way you were pinned underneath him by his weight made him groan. "shit... y'so small, y'know that...? could fucking break you if m'not careful enough." he sighed.

the thought of making you pregnant flashed in his mind for a second. he pictured you all nice and swollen with his baby. imagining such a little human carrying his baby— the baby of such a massive man— made him shiver. the contrast between you two was obvious. "i'll give you my cum, if that's what y'want. gotta put it to good use. don't have as much as i used to, y'know ?" he smirked at the little moan that escaped your lips.

"toji, m'gonna come..." you sighed. "yeah, i bet. with the way she's clenchin' around my cock, s'easy to tell." his eyes flicked to your creamy pussy, watching the way your little hole swallowed his large dick eagerly. "s'always a wonder how you can take me." you hummed, feeling how your gummy walls stretched around him. "m'coming, toji..."

he smirked. "go ahead." it only took you a few other thrusts to gush around him. "toji !" you moaned as your lower lip got caught between your teeth. "fuck— gonna cum too, doll." he frowned and came right after you, tucking his head in your neck.

after toji came down from his high, he stayed inside you and chuckled. "don't think that damn plushie can get you off that good, huh ?" you hummed breathlessly. "toji... you jealous...?" you mumbled. he sighed and kissed your forehead. "yeah."

oh.

ayo whose horse is that

⋆˚࿔ kimi 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

[hgfictionwriter]

Just Friends

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: You're Jessie's girlfriend and she gets irritated to no end when people assume you're just friends. She gets even more irritated when you play along with it. You can't help that she's so fun to stir up.

Warnings: Nothing.

A/N: Short little fluff piece. Based on this request.

"I hate that," Jessie scowled as she pulled out her wallet, setting it on the table as you waited for the server to return with the bill. "Together or separate?" She mocked mildly. "Together. Obviously. You're my girlfriend. If I was a guy they would've just brought us one bill."

"I hear you," you said, stifling a chuckle at how worked up she was getting. You couldn't help yourself – you had to poke her a bit. "I guess we just look like pals."

She gave you a slow, scrutinizing look, sparking a shrug from you.

"What? What about us right now would indicate that we're together?"

Her forehead creased as she stared at you. You were seated opposite each other, which was totally fine and expected, but combined with Jessie's general lack of PDA, you could sometimes understand how people might not immediately understand the context of your relationship.

"What am I supposed to do?" She asked defensively in a hushed voice as she leaned in. "We're sitting across from each other!"

You gave a small smile, propping your elbow on the table and resting your chin in your hand while giving another shrug. "Well, some light flirtations wouldn't kill you." You sat back, a smirk lingering. "If anything, it probably just looks like me hitting on you all lunch."

She frowned deeper, glancing away as concern settled on her face. Her voice was softer this time. "I'm affectionate," she pouted. And she was, but true, not often in front of prying eyes.

"Sure thing, pal," you quipped, ensuring to catch her eye as you casually looked away. You smirked as you saw her tense up out of the corner of your eye.

"Babe," she said, planting her feet on the ground and leaning in. "Come on."

The server returned, interrupting any further debate. You could see Jessie was still irate as she quietly paid the bill.

"So, any plans for the rest of the afternoon?" The server asked. You really shouldn't stir Jessie up, but it was too hard to resist.

"Oh, not really. We're just old friends catching up – might wander around for a bit after this." You smiled up at the server, but didn't miss the way Jessie froze mid-signature. You bit the inside of your cheek as you saw her slowly look up at you in your periphery.

"Oh, that's so nice!" The server said. "Well, enjoy catching up and enjoy the rest of your day."

You watched quietly as Jessie returned the bill to the server with a terse smile before shifting her gaze to you.

"Seriously?" She asked, a fake smile still plastered on her face.

"What?" You asked innocently as you stood up. "Oh, and thanks for lunch, friend." You bit back a snicker at how her jaw dropped and you walked away knowing she'd be on your heels in a second.

"What the hell," she whispered as she jogged up next to you and you both continued down the sidewalk.

"Oh, come on, babe. I'm just having some fun," you said as you went to hook your arm around hers and cuddle in, but she ducked away.

"Uh uh," she said. "You want to say we're pals, then you don't get any cuddles."

"Fine," you said haughtily. You weren't concerned. Jessie was acting affronted, but you knew she'd come around regardless. "Roomie," you added as you gave her a nudge, pulling another withering stare out of her.

You were at a store a few blocks over trying on some new clothes and Jessie was still in a mood. Normally, she followed closely behind you, holding whatever clothes you wanted to try, suggesting options she liked for you as well. This time, she sulked around the opposite end of the store, though you caught her peering over the racks now and again to check on you.

You played nice enough though. You brought over clothes you liked, asked her opinion, showed her things you liked for her. She grunted a few replies, but mostly just glowered.

"I'm going to try these on," you told her, finding her in some far off corner of the store.

"K," she continued to pout, hardly offering you a glance.

You retreated to the change room, half regretting taking the joke this far when she didn't join you like she normally would.

You sighed as you stepped out of the change room to examine yourself in the mirror. Jessie had wandered much closer, but was still very determinedly examining a nearby hoodie and not you.

"That outfit looks great."

Your head snapped to the side in search of the source of the voice.

"Sorry – I don't mean to intrude," the woman said. "I just come shopping on my own as well and always appreciate getting some feedback or confirmation."

"Oh, well," you said, eyes flitting back to Jessie again who had now moved to a closer display and was watching intently. "I did bring someone. She's just not much of a shopper. Thanks for the affirmation though – I appreciate it," you said warmly.

The woman and Jessie locked eyes and the woman teased her. "Ah, well come on. Get in there," she encouraged with a wave. "That's the whole point of shopping with friends."

"Yeah, Jess. What are friends for?" You asked with a self-satisfied smirk.

The woman retreated and Jessie came towards you with another glower on her face.

"Wow," she said flatly.

"What do you think?" You asked as you modeled your outfit for her.

She crossed her arms, still unimpressed, but eyed you up and down. She eventually cocked her head and she answered you.

"I'm sure a girlfriend would think you're hot in that outfit. A friend? A friend would probably say you look just fine," she said lightly.

"Okay, well, what do you say?" You asked. She shrugged, turning away and distracting herself by looking at other clothes.

"You tell me. Am I your girlfriend or your friend?" She asked with mock indifference, straightening her posture as she did so. You rolled your eyes with a laugh.

"Well from the way you were eyeing me a moment ago, I'd say the former," you said flirtatiously, drawing a blush out of her as she fought back a smile of embarrassment. You gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

"Come on," you said gently as you tugged on her elbow, coaxing her back out into the store. "Let me get these and I'll buy you ice cream as an apology." She grumbled, but followed along more easily than before.

You stepped out of the store and she reached over to grab the bag out of your hand. You held onto it and she tugged it.

"Let me carry it; that's my job," she complained. "It's my sacred duty as your girlfriend," she went on with an eye roll.

"And you're the best girlfriend," you complimented her as you released the bag and gave her another kiss on the cheek as you walked. She rolled her eyes again and shot you a look.

"Oh, so I've regained my title, have I?" She asked skeptically as she arched an eyebrow.

"You never lost it," you said as you gave her a playful nudge and wrapped your arm around hers. She allowed it this time though she still grumbled. "Don't be silly."

"I don't like you calling me your friend," she pouted.

"I'm sorry. That wasn't nice of me. I got carried away teasing you," you said, kissing her shoulder this time. She watched you wordlessly for a second as you walked together before giving you a quick, fleeting kiss on your cheek.

“I’m sorry if I’m not affectionate enough. Or show enough PDA,” she said in a low tone.

“Hey,” you said softly as you planted your feet, causing her to stop as well and look at you. She held your gaze for a moment before looking away with an inaudible exhale.

“I don’t need you to change anything. I just got caught up in the joke. You’re not showy with your affection - I know that and I’m not bothered at all. I know you love me and you show me in ways that mean more to me than simply initiating some hand holding in public,” you finished with a light smirk. She looked unconvinced, so you carried on. “I mentioned that new restaurant and you booked a lunch for us there unprompted. You come shopping with me even though you despise it. You insist on holding my bags even though I’m perfectly capable. You show me you care in many ways and I love you for that.”

Jessie exhaled again but this time her body relaxed. You smiled and gave her a sweet kiss.

“And you don’t mind when I’m affectionate,” you said with a wink. 

“I’d be stupid to turn away hugs and kisses from a girl as gorgeous as you,” she said, cracking a smirk.

“A girl who happens to be your girlfriend,” you teased. She gave you a wink.

“Lucky me.”

[whitefeathers]

perv!butcher who gets handsy with you but of course he can, hes the leader!

mdni. DARK CONTENT WARNING, READ MY PINNED POST BEFORE CONTINUING. cw: manipulation, dubiously consensual/non con touching but reader is into it, abuse of power. Choking, somnophilia. Daddy kink. Massive daddy issues and butcher is a father figure to u in this, heavy on the taboo and age diff. <3 im down to make a part 2 to this if ppl are interested too ! w/c: 1.2k

Butcher isn't a nice man. He's ruthless, does what he wants, whenever he wants - he's definitely got some sort of conscience in there, but it's drowned out by the primary emotion that drives him. Lust. It's usually for blood, but this time, it's for you.

A pretty young thing, definitely not dumb but definitely inexperienced. Sometimes you don't know when to shut your mouth, too excitable and bubbly, too full of energy. You mean well, you do. But when Butcher already has a headache, your begging to take temp V is driving him mad.

"I'll be okay, it won't hurt me, I could just have cool powers like you, and it'll be all over the next day! It could really help, we don't know what I'd be able to do and it could be something helpful!"

You're sat next to Butcher on the deflated couch in the pawn shop basement, only the pair of you there. You're sat with your legs crossed facing him, gesturing with your words, while Butcher is sat with his legs spread wide, pinching the bridge of his nose, facing directly ahead at the TV. He sighs, turning his head to look at you.

"Fucccck no. You ain't havin' any, end of story. Give 'ers a bit of peace and quiet, will ya? Me 'ead is banging, yer yapping isn't helping."

"I'm not yapping, I'm trying to help..." You murmur, dejected. You turn to face away from Butcher, frustrated and feeling like he doesn't trust you. He watches as the dull light from the TV illuminates your face, trying so hard to look calm and collected. Butcher sees right through you. He knows you need his approval like air.

Butcher sighs again. He's a horrible, fucked up man. He's about thirty years your senior. Fuck it, he'll blame the V for how he's acting if anyone pulls him up on it. If anyone dares. He's the leader, he can do what he likes.

"Look, c'mere. Ya wanna help? Sit,"

"Sit...?" You meet his eyes, eyebrows furrowed. Butcher is unwavering, and he looks scary. His eye contact is intense, and you choose to look down at his chain and his sweater instead.

"Yeah. Sit. Didn't stutter, did I? C'mere," your gaze follows his hand (so large that it's practically a paw) as he pats his strong upper thigh. Your head and your heart race, and you stay still.

"Isn't that... um... inappropriate?" You've always seen him as a mentor, a leader, a father figure. Of course you've had some thoughts, but you've shoved them down deep enough to silence them. He's practically your dad - and old enough to be, too. This is wrong.

Like a dam breaking, all those thoughts suddenly surface. Flickers of Butcher's strong, veiny hands, his rough lips, his even rougher voice calling you a good girl. Fuck, this is bad.

"Surely is. Stop ya whinin' though and give me what I want, yeah?"

You shakily stand up, nodding. You always want to make him proud, and deep down you know you want this - whatever this is. It could be anything from a cuddle to a punch in the gut. Butcher is a live wire.

You settle yourself in his lap, hovering by putting most of your weight on your white-socked feet still planted on the ground. Up this close, Butcher is all you can smell. Heady, masculine, intense. Like testosterone, sweat, and leather. You know it should gross you out but it doesn't.

Butcher's large arm manhandling you so your back is to his chest makes you gasp. He's overpowering and rough, too strong for his own good, too arrogant and self-serving. His hand wraps around to suddenly grip your throat, feeling your pulse but not choking you. Just holding. Your heart jumps into your throat. He might actually just kill you right here.

"You're nervous. Scared I'm gonna hurt ya, sweetheart? Scared I'm gonna make ya cry?" Your eyes flutter closed, and you nod, terrified. He's whispering into your ear, a dark growl. You can feel his warm breath against your neck, smelling like cigarette smoke and mint. His other arm is around your waist, keeping you close to him. Making it so you can't get away.

"Not gonna hurt ya. You want this too," Butcher takes a deep inhale, nostils flaring and eyes fluttering shut. The V has given him an increased sense of smell, and with your legs slightly spread, he can smell exactly what you've been desperate to hide.

"Yeah, you want this too. Can smell ya dripping. This little cunt want daddy, yeah?" Butcher laughs cruelly when his words make your breath stutter and a new gush of wetness to soak your panties, intensifying the smell of pussy that is driving him mad. He takes another deep inhale, and you try to shut your legs, only for Butcher to force them back open with a heavy palm, slapping the soft jiggle of your thigh through your cargos. Mean.

"No, no. No, no, baby, nuh uh. Nope. Don't fuck me about. You're on my team, and you're mine. You want a daddy? I'll be your daddy," you shake your head no, and Butcher coos.

"No? Don't want a daddy?"

"Don' want any daddy, want you," you whisper. "'S always been you."

He groans and adjusts you in his lap so you're even closer to him, and his lips are on your neck by his fingers, just resting. You can feel him now, hard against your ass. Fuck, either he's carrying a gun in his pants, or he's huge.

"Thaaat's right. Always been me. Picked ya up off the street, ya own dad ain't know how to treat ya. I do though. Know what brats like you need," his hand on your throat tightens, cutting off the circulation to your head and making you go dizzy. His lips move up, his tongue softly licking that spot where your neck meets your jaw.

"Need an older man to look after you. Need a good stuffin' to stop you gettin' all gobby. You've been giving me such a headache, princess. Gonna fuck that mouth outta ya. Just gotta have you passed out for it, yeah?"

You struggle to breathe, panicking. Passed out? Why? Your eyes start to flutter closed and Butcher's voice starts to echo in your head, feeling both a million miles away and right inside the pulse of your clit at the same time.

"Stupid lil cunt for daddy. Ya won't be able to take me when you're awake, so I just gotta force it while you're out... sleep now, sweetheart. Shhh." he coos as your vision goes spotty, and you go limp in his lap. Once he's sure you're out cold, he lays you down on the couch, and gets to work using you just how he's always wanted.

He's a deeply fucked up man, but it's not his fault you make such a perfect daddy's girl.

[xoxochb]

pls more fics with riordanverse characters x persephone!reader !!!!

— cinnamon girl

warnings: none? pairings: riordanverse boys x daughter of persephone a/n: I didn’t want to chose so I just did all of them at once including percy again, I hope you don’t mind angel

percy jackson loves leaving flowers at your doorsteps every morning. sometimes if he’s lucky he’ll catch you on your way out of your cabin and he’s able to hand them to you personally. he prefers this over anonymously gifting them (even if you know it’s him every time) mainly because he loves the way your face lights up instantly and you reward him with a sweet kiss to his pink cheeks. he also finds himself taking in your scent whenever you hug, you always smell like your favorite flowers and fruits, something he’s grown to love dearly. when percy finds himself with free time he likes to pick flowers and weave them into a flower crown for you; you’d taught him prior how to do so, he recalls the soft gestures with your hands and your sweet like honey voice instructing him on how to do so, with this knowledge he uses it to create a crown exactly your size, giving it to you after you’ve had a long day, instantly washing away your previous worries when you settle in the arms of your most beloved

jason grace likes to help you tend to your garden. whether it’s late at night, early morning, mid day, or even if it means skipping meals to do so. sometimes he often finds himself reading books on various types of plants and flowers so when you’re speaking to him about them he’s able to understand what you’re talking about. he’ll also use this knowledge to his ability to impress you (he did this a lot before you began dating— even know he won’t admit to it but you know the truth). since jason is a frequent visiter to your garden he bought his own tools so you wouldn’t have to share with him. although he won’t admit this, jason is a sucker for your kisses, specifically after you’ve picked a fresh fruit and taken a bite from it, he makes sure write after to claim your lips with his, often he takes a bite of it himself to try your masterpiece, at the same time eating it so his lips taste as sweet as yours. jason also enjoys picking your fruits and vegetables with you and helping you prepare a dish with those crops. most frequently you’ll bake pies or cakes with the fruits, and even if jason isn’t fond of that certain fruit he’ll eat it regardless because you made it and he loves you (he additionally gets to see your bright smile when he says he enjoys it. he’d never miss an opportunity to make you smile)

leo valdez was intimidated by you at first sight. he believed you were gorgeous, yes, there was no doubt in his mind that you were anything less than ethereal. but you were also horrifying. with your abilities to control shadows— courtesy of your mother being the queen of the underworld— you could pop out from the darkness at will. once leo got to know you he realized you were as sweet as the fruits you grew, an angel. his cheeks as red as your favorite pomegranates when you call him out for stuttering after you gained the knowledge that he was afraid of you before. nonetheless he’s enamored with you, completely and utterly. he loves how everytime you walk, flowers grow and return from the dead if wilting, shades of blue, green, red, pink, purple, and ant imaginable color you’d like. you often find yourselves in the fields, you pick a few flowers from the ground and stick them into leo’s curls, making his face flush a pink hue at your affectionate action.

luke castellan likes when you tell him about your underworld-ly related powers. he’s well aware your mother is known for her spring, gardening persona but he’s also interested in the aspects of her personality that include being the wife of the god of the dead. you often find yourself in your free time taking luke to your fields with your necromancy books and teaching him the ways of contacting the dead. he listens attentively (which includes 99% staring at your lips and 1% listening. he can’t help it when they’re still red from the fruits you ate earlier, he even sneaks a few kisses in when your in thought— ultimately stopping you from thinking). not only can you contact the dead but you’re also able to travel through plants similar to the hades children, though it works just about the same and drains you just as much. luke lovingly scolds you every time you use this ability when it’s not necessary, he hates seeing you in agony regardless of what happened. and speaking of agony, persephone children can heal themselves with their plants easily, but luke also can’t help but worrying every time you hurt yourself or prick your hand on a thorn or whatever caused you harm, it’s just in his nature as your dear boyfriend

[angelicblondie]

what about luke castellan x ballerina!reader but she had to give up ballet when she went to camp and he like finds her dancing in the forest one night. maybe when he’s a little busy with like backstabbing everyone but yk🤷‍♀️

(like meet me in the pale moonlight or tomorrow never came coded like ughh😩😩)

wait...i adore this. as a dancer this made my heart actually jump for joy.

every night, luke was plagued with dreams. the not good kind, more specifically.

it started a few months ago. the deep ancient voice of a titan long imprisoned would echo through his mind, urging his darkest desires of revenge and shameful need for power to the forefront of his thoughts. he was angry, angry at the gods for ignoring him and all their other children. he wanted to stop this system, he was full of bitterness.

so the voice in his head was appealing. he knew that it probably wasn't morally good to listen to the evil titan kronos, but then again, if it all ended up with the system of the gods abolished, he could live with that.

but anyways, the point is, dreams invaded the peace luke found in his unconscious state, and sometimes, it was too much. sure, he agreed with the titan, but he wasn't ready to abandon home and betray his friends, not when they were the only ones who accepted him. he couldn't do that, no matter how much to words appealed to him.

so, when the hermes cabin felt suffocating, and his mind was reeling, late at night, luke would venture off into the woods.

luke felt at comfort with the odd eeriness that filled the late night air - he didn't jump or flinch at the sounds of leaves crunching or bushes rustling - he felt at peace with the scary.

that was, until he saw footsteps in the mud.

curious, luke followed the trail, until he reached an more open area of the forest, and he leaned up against a tree, taking in the sight in front of him with pure curiosity.

there you were, wearing grey sleep shorts, a black tank top, and a pink cardigan, dancing in the middle of this forest.

you seemed to be in your own world, sneakers planted in the ground as you did some simple plies, and luke watched, transfixed by the sight. your hair was tied up by a pink ribbon, and you had the most peaceful expression on your face, not one luke had ever seen before.

you were relatively new to camp, only having arrived in the past year. you were quickly claimed by your mother, aphrodite, and gained a fast group of friends and a positive reputation. luke and you hadn't talked much - sure, he gave you your tour, and the two of you had got on quite well, but once you got claimed, he didn't have much time to talk to you, given the rapid enthusiasm of your siblings.

he didn't know you were a dancer, a good one in fact. you elegantly pranced around, your feet moving quickly yet gracefully. luke was mesmerized - he had never really seen anything like it, like you. you seemed so free - so unburdened by the struggles of being a demi god. just you, alone (kind of?), dancing - luke guessed like every other demigod, you had found your own way to feel normal in this crazy world.

eventually, your eyes caught luke, and you stumbled back, imidiatley flushing. gods, you were mortified!

"l-luke? what are you doing here?" you exclaimed indignantly.

luke remained leaned up against the tree, the corners of his lips tilting upwards. "was on a walk, happend to come across you."

you huff. "how long have you been there?"

he shrugs, standing up straight. "not long." he walks forwards a bit, closer to where you stood. "you dance?"

wasnt it obvious? you thought, but awkwardly twiddled your thumbs. "well, used to, i guess. cant really anymore, cause....you know." you say, your voice somewhat shy.

luke humed in recognition. "yeah, the whole demigod thing doesnt help. wouldnt be fun if a cyclops showed up to a rectial, huh?" he said, the dry yet teasing humour in his voice elicited a giggle from your lips. "guess not," you agree softly, your eyes twinkling happily.

luke, feeling a little bashful, rubbed the back of his neck. "uh, your really good by the way. i feel a bit bad interrupting, you were in the zone."

you bite your lip, feeling a bit embarrassed. "yeah well, theres never really time to dance anymore, so i guess whenever i cant sleep i come out here to." you look him up and down. "is that why you're out here? you cant sleep?"

luke hums. "yeah. nightmares," he simplifies, his thoughts being brought back to the reason he left his cabin.

you blow out a breath of air. "hate those," you mumble.

luke observes you. "you enjoying camp?" he asks, changing subject.

you smile a little, nodding. "yeah, its different then what i thought it would be. it actually been really great, my sibling have been super welcoming," you say, your voice sounding so genuine and enthusiastic it was hard for luke not to smile.

his lips quirk up, eyes filled with a bit of mischief. "yeah, well, camp'll do that for you."

you bite your lip, almost as if you were contemplating your next words. "y'know, i haven't seen much of you since i got here. you must be busy."

luke chuckles a bit. "why, have you been looking for me?"

his flirty words heated your cheeks and you let out a nervous laugh. "no!" yes. "i was just wondering."

luke poked his tongue to the inside of his cheek. "right, right."

you talked for a little longer, before luke escorted you back to your cabin. you thanked him with a quick kiss to the cheek before running inside, and luke walked back to his own cabin, distracted from the overbearing titan in his dreams, even if only for a little while.

[sakumz]

a/n : this man. knows how to drive one crazy hj ------------------------------------------------------

[ m. orter x fem reader ]

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

" mind if I take that seat? " a voice you know all too well says beside you, you look up from stirring your drink to see orter.

" sure, " you said and a veil of awkward silence pours. orter took this as an opportunity to order a drink and another bottle for both of you. thanking him as he pushes up his spectacles.

" you approve of that mash kid? " orter takes a sip of his drink as he awaits your answer.

" he did play my game... as a divine visionary I guess its only fair I keep my end of the bet ? I suppose you can say I've given my full support in that non magic guy. " you cheekily smile.

" I can't believe you made him play hide and seek. were you even trying to make it hard? no less the toy plush you're using is the size of a child. " he points to your bear companion, sitting by your side.

" it had murderous intentions... nearly killed that freckle kid. " you can't help but try not to laugh at the memory, even making your bear turn to face orter.

he wasn't faze, only rubbing his head. ryoh, rayne and kaldo already approve of the boy. with you, that's almost half of the divine visionary approving the boy. maybe he should assassinate him in secret? would that make you cry? you do have a soft spot for people younger than you. sometimes putting shows and playing with random children on the streets whenever he and you are on patrol duty.

" I still can't believe you. " he extends his hand with his wand, pushing your bear away. it fell to the ground and disappeared. your magic probably made it disappear when it touched the ground.

you lean in close, close to kissing orter but you can't help but giggle. he's such a child. was he mad at your approval to mash?

instead of a kiss, you were met with a headbutt.

" what the heck? " you rub both your hands at the wound.

" you're a betrayer. why would I kiss a betrayer of my heart? " he says it so calmly, it did tick you off.

" oh come on, he won... not really fair since the first round, my bear was the hider and he nearly got beaten to a pulp the moment he was found by the red hair and mushroom hair. there wasn't any rules so my bear was allowed to shrink... " you mumbled the last part as orter can't help but remember the first time you made him and the rest of the visionary play your hide and seek game.

everyone was easily found but the second it was your turn to hide your bear. you shrunk it to the size of a coin, hiding it in kaldo's honey. they only found it when kaldo nearly choke at the feeling of something. thank goodness the bear was just illusion like, it disappeared the moment kaldo starts coughing. you summon it in your palm as you present to the rest, the size of the bear and how they've won since no one surrendered. everyone nearly killed you that day.

" what's so funny? " you pout at the sandman when he starts laughing at the memory. he's getting tipsy from the drinks too.

" nothing. I love you so much, betrayer of my heart. " he leans to plant a kiss on your head.

" don't call me that, if you said to kill him. I would've done it. " you kick his leg as he sighs.

" you won't. you won't do things without reasons. you fail to follow rules too, " he flicks your forehead.

he was right, having met him when he was newly announced as a visionary. he knew you quite well. too well sometimes. it's only fair since he's your lover. you sigh before grabbing his cup and putting it away from him.

" well, no matter what, I'd still listen to you. just maybe I do wish this mash kid make a change. the magicless and magic living together doesn't sound all too bad. we're all humans, after all. the status quo doesn't matter to me when life is involved. I've seen my share of bloodshed. change isn't all too bad either, orter. " he can't help but flush a little at your reprimand.

in his head, you were right and wrong. he loves you dearly and would support you. the status quo is something he cherishes to an extent. he feels a kiss to his cheek as he meets your eyes after, one so full of love.

" let's go home, this talk won't change my mind and I won't force it upon you to approve of mash. just don't make things hard for the poor guy, " your words obviously went in and out the other ear. orter was set on ending mash. even the words of his dearest may not be important at the moment.

" you're such a child, " he stirs to which you narrow your eyes at him, one close to a glare.

" says the big baby, I can literally beat you in a fight if I take down your weakness first. " you raise a fist.

" oh yeah, what's the weakness? " he had his hand prompting his face, tilting it to the side as he smiles uncharacteristically.

" your glasses. once it's out of the way, you're done for. " you smile back as your fisted hand made impact to his face, not physically and painfully punching him. just a light tap.

" I thought you'd say you're my weakness. " he was really getting drunk as he giggles to himself.

" what, you're my weakness. " you playfully pout as orter grabs you to give you a hug.

" go home, idiots. " the bartender sighs at your antics. giving him a soft chuckle as you feel orter's weight on you.

he had fallen asleep. you summon one of your plush toys to help pay the bill from your wallet and then a few more to help you carry the man. how you hope he'd forgotten half of what happened tonight and the fact you paid instead of him. he'll definitely make a fuss if he knew, but what's the point of being rich as a divine visionary if you can't spend. he loves you to death just like you love him too. complicated relationship but there's so much love in it. orter enjoys your company and he's forever thankful for your existence.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

hii!! first of all, i just wanna say i love your writing so so so much and you seem soo sweet <<33

i don't know if this is too vague to ask, or if you even do headcanons, but do you think you could do a few headcanons about a hufflepuff reader with Theodore nott? like what he thought of her when they first met, and how it progressed to him falling in love with her? If that's okay!!

headcannons for theodore nott x hufflepuff!reader

⋆ You first met Theo on a breezy autumn afternoon in the library, your arms loaded with books on magical plants, as he watched you from the corner of his eye.

⋆ He thought you were a bit odd, with dirt smudges on your nose from Herbology and a stack of books that nearly hid your entire face, yet somehow, it made you interesting.

⋆ You noticed his gaze and gave him a small, polite smile, not expecting him to look away so quickly, cheeks faintly pink.

⋆ At first, he thought you were annoyingly friendly – always smiling at everyone in the corridors, always holding doors open, even for Slytherins.

⋆ But every time you’d pass him, you’d offer him that warm, dimpled smile, and he’d feel his usual scowl soften, just slightly.

⋆ One day, you handed him a book he'd been eyeing from across the library, and he raised an eyebrow, surprised you’d noticed.

⋆ “I thought you might want this,” you said with a shrug, as if it was nothing. He didn’t know why his heart skipped.

⋆ Theo told himself you were just a typical Hufflepuff, a bit too sunny, a bit too warm – until he started missing that warmth whenever you weren’t around.

⋆ You’d linger after Potions class, chatting with Professor Slughorn about magical herbs, and Theo found himself waiting in the hall, wondering what was taking you so long.

⋆ Slowly, you became his soft escape from the world; your presence felt like a cozy blanket, and he couldn’t help but relax whenever you were nearby.

⋆ He noticed how you always shared your notes with others, even with people who barely acknowledged you, and his respect for you grew.

⋆ Theo’s walls started crumbling bit by bit every time you’d stop him in the halls, offering him chocolate or complimenting his quiet observations in class.

⋆ One afternoon, you caught him sneaking glances at you during lunch and simply smiled, as if you’d known all along – it drove him mad in the best way.

⋆ He found himself offering you his scarf on a cold day, surprising even himself, and was too embarrassed to take it back when you gratefully accepted.

⋆ You started meeting up more frequently to study together, and somehow, it always ended in you sharing childhood stories while he listened, captivated.

⋆ One day, he caught himself staring at the way your nose crinkled when you laughed and realized he didn’t want anyone else to see that smile but him.

⋆ By the time he realized he was in love with you, you were already woven into his everyday life, and he couldn’t imagine a day without you there.

⋆ He finally admitted it to himself after you’d hugged him on a particularly hard day, making his heart feel like it could burst from the warmth you brought.

⋆ In his mind, you were no longer just a Hufflepuff – you were his Hufflepuff, and he planned to do whatever it took to keep that light in his life forever.

convos that may arise during this period

➺ "So, Theo, if you had to pick a magical creature to keep as a pet, what would it be?" "A dragon," he replies immediately, and you give him a shocked look. "A dragon? You barely tolerate my cat." He smirks. "Your cat tries to eat my shoelaces, it has a personal vendetta. A dragon would at least have some respect."

➺ "You’re so serious all the time, Theo." He raises a brow. "Someone has to be. Besides, one of us needs to keep our feet on the ground." You grin, nudging him. "And one of us needs to pull the other into a dance in the middle of the library." "That’s a horrible idea," he says, looking around warily, but when you hold out your hand, he takes it with a reluctant smile.

➺ "Sometimes I wonder if I annoy you." He looks at you, genuinely surprised. "If you did, you’d be the most tolerable annoying person I know." "Wow, Theo, be still my heart," you deadpan, and he gives a rare chuckle. "I thought you preferred brutal honesty. I mean, that's why you like me, isn’t it?"

➺ "Why do you keep checking my hands, Theo?" "I don't," he lies, looking away quickly. "You definitely do," you laugh, holding your hand out. "Is this because my gloves are too big for me?" He sighs, slipping your glove on properly. "Yes, I have a weird urge to fix them every time."

➺ "I think… I think you make life brighter." Theo raises his eyebrows, caught off guard. "I’m not sure how to respond to that." You grin. "How about ‘Thank you’?" He gives a small smile, looking at you like you’ve thrown him off balance in the best way. "Thank you."

➺ "You know, I used to think you were kind of scary," you admit one day, watching his reaction. He smirks. "Scary?" "Well, yeah," you say, laughing. "You’ve got the brooding thing down." He leans closer, lowering his voice. "Maybe I was just trying to keep a certain Hufflepuff on her toes."

➺ "Do you believe in soulmates, Theo?" you ask quietly. He looks at you, thinking. "No, I don’t think I do." "Oh," you say softly, trying not to look disappointed. He hesitates, then adds, "But I do think… maybe, some people just fit. Perfectly."

thank you so much for the request and the kind words, lovie!! i hope you have a great day <33

[justalittlelilac]

Four days.

You had four days to tell Qiu Lin you were in love with them.

Four days before Qiu would leave Golden Grove again to return to their university and leave you. Four days to somehow summon the courage to say aloud what you'd whispered only to your pillow at night. Four days to reveal what you had held close to your heart.

Four. Days.

It had felt easy at first. After all, you'd been best friends for years—what were three months apart? When they left for that out-of-state university, the goodbye had been teary, yes, but you'd reassured yourself they'd come back even if it was so far away.

Much less could be said about you. No, when you planted yourself in Golden Grove, you had been determined to put roots so deep in the ground that not even your mom could uproot you again.

You weren't like the others, ready to run off and embrace change. You had chosen this life, this town, with its familiar faces and predictable days. You chose the comfort of online schooling while the rest packed up and moved on. While they left.

And when Qiu and Tamarack no longer graced your bedroom with their laughter and light, the house felt colder and emptier, especially with your mom taking more business trips now that you were an adult.

That first week, you found yourself hiding a teary voice in a three-way call with your friends that lasted an hour. They'd promised to call every day, but the best-laid plans never consider being a new freshman in college. Very quickly, the calls devolved into sporadic spurts of text conversation, erratic like the flicker of a dying candle.

You understood. Of course, you did. They were busy, and so were you. That was what you claimed in happy texts that ended in a thumbs-up emoji.

In actuality, you found yourself staring at your phone most days, scrambling for the device whenever it lit up. You tried to occupy yourself, even taking a job as an assistant editor at the Golden Grove Gazette. However, you still felt their absence... especially Qiu's.

It was different with Qiu. Always had been. Always would be. Much like the rest of Golden Grove's student body, you'd admired and crushed on them for so long. Even when they had iced everyone else out, they had kept you close. You'd never told them how much that meant to you, but it was more precious than all the stars you'd gazed at together, lying on your backs in the damp grass of your backyard at night.

Even when you also pushed everyone away, crashed out, and earned the moniker "Golden Grove's Local Delinquent," they stayed. They didn't judge, but they were worried because they knew what it felt like to feel lost. Through their help, you righted yourself somewhat, even if much damage had already been done. You still didn't know how to thank them for that.

Loving Qiu, even quietly, was like loving the sun on a frosted morning. Its rays would somehow penetrate through the chill to warm your face, comforting and cozy. It'd been like that since you were 10.

You'd watch them from across the schoolyard, noting their every move. Noticing how they carried themselves differently from others around them, confident but kind. Taking mental note of how the wind blew their silky dark hair and how it'd catch the light in such a way that it would cause you to stare for just a few moments longer than anyone else.

And sometimes, just sometimes, you swore you caught them staring back when you weren't looking.

However, as time marched on and your crush grew into something much fonder and more profound, you resigned yourself to friendship. Everyone liked Qiu; you were not unique in that sort of way. You told yourself it was enough, thinking it better to have them as a friend than to lose them altogether if they didn't feel the same. Time hid your deeper love like seeds under snow, and you tried to forget the words you were too afraid to speak. And as time did what it does, you slowly accepted that it had been too long to utter them aloud at all.

Until they left.

Then, it was like all the years of buried longing had rushed to the surface and the forefront of your mind like roots cracking the pavement, like released hounds, barking and gnashing at your thoughts. You believed you could go the rest of your life only half loving Qiu Lin. Loving them contently from afar in a quiet part of your heart.

But the ache from the distance only revealed more and more that half loving Qiu Lin felt like a life half lived.

When they texted some obscure (but funny) anti-thanksgiving meme in the group chat stating they'd be home for the four-day break, you knew you couldn't let the time pass by without telling them.

Because you knew with even more certainty that you would likely never get another chance. The gap between you two was expanding, and if you didn't jump now, it'd become too vast for even the most skilled leap to make it across.

You had just hit 'submit' on your last online midterm test when you felt your phone buzz a couple times next to you on your bed. Closing the laptop, you grabbed it and read the text messages coming in with a growing smile:

Part 2

[builtbybrokenbells]

Poolsides & Pizza Boxes | JTK (1 of 2)

A friendly hangout and an innocent drinking game turns into a troublesome affair.

Read part two here.

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word count: 13.5k

Warnings: sexual situations, mentions of sexual frustrations, lots of sexual tension, like one smidgen of dry humping, embarrassing crushes, kissing/making out, awkward situations, play fighting, lots of friendly teasing, drinking, smoking, partying, swearing, a touch of angst, lots of fluff, sorry if i miss any! (stick around for part two for the rest 😉)

hi lovelies, I had a blast writing this! part two obviously is the more climactic part, but I hope you enjoy this for now. The next one should be out soon 🤍 as always, be kind, enjoy, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes!

The summer sun was blinding, irritating your eyes as you shielded them with your hand. Your skin was warm, the cool pool water long forgotten and the droplets dried into a distant memory. The drink sitting in the cup holder of your patio chair was condensated, the ice inside melting the longer you sat, and the music blaring through your speaker was playing a song you hadn’t heard in a long time. The moment was perfect, the summer day exactly what you had dreamed of in the slump of work that only ever seemed to grow larger. What made it even better was the crowd of boys sitting poolside, their feet in the water and beer bottles in their hands.

As you sipped at your straw, you watched as one of them stood, the water running from his legs onto the brand new concrete panels on the ground. You looked upwards, your eyes settling on his face as he turned away from his brothers and took a step in your direction. His brown hair hung over his shoulders, framing his face and blowing softly in the barely-there breeze. You couldn’t help but feel your lips turn upwards into a smile as he continued on his path, standing in front of you and casting a shadow over your chair.

“The sun looks good on you, you know.” He said, his hands anchored on his hips as he gazed down upon your lax position in the chair.

“What does that mean, Jacob?” You raised an eyebrow, looking over the top your sunglasses at him. There was a hint of a smile on his lips too, and you could see his skin of his chest and shoulders beginning to redden from the constant sunlight touching it.

“It means you look better in the sun than you do behind an office desk.” He continued, pushing an identical chair closer to you with his leg. He stopped when the arm collided with yours, sending the ice in your drink clinking against the plastic cup. He sat down, turning his head to look at you before speaking again. “It means we have to do this more often.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” You sighed, pushing your glasses back up the bridge of your nose. You rested your head against the wooden back of the chair, taking in a long breath. The summer air was sweet, lingering with the scent of the blossoming flowers Jake had helped you plant by the doorway just a few days prior. When the wind blew just right, you were hit in the face with his cologne still lingering on his skin, mixing with the last bit of sunscreen that refused to wash away after his pool escapades. The scent was familiar, it was comfortable, and it made you think of home.

“Makes me think you’re forgetting about me, sometimes.”

“Forgetting about you?” You scoffed, chuckling at the idea alone. “As if I could do that even if I wanted to. And how does that make any sense? You’re here every fuckin’ day anyway.” At that, he let out a laugh, one that shook his shoulders and echoed through the air.

“Yeah, but hanging out with you is much different than listening to you talk on a boring conference call from across the room.” He brought the cap of his beer to the edge of the arm on his chair. After a few seconds spent positioning it correctly, he slammed his hand down on top of it. The cap popped off, clanging down on the concrete, and bubbles overflowed from the neck of the bottle. With a mischievous smile, he flicked his hands towards you. You jumped in surprise as the cold liquid hit your warm skin, sending him a glare that spoke louder than any words. “You moved halfway across the country so you could be near us again, and all you do is work.”

“Mhm,” you let out a hum, your lips pressed tightly together as you wiped away the droplets of beer from your chest. “You travel all over the world for months at a time, but you don’t hear me complain about it.” He shot you an incredulous look, shaking his head in disbelief that you would even say such a thing.

“Yeah, I do actually. Every minute of every day that I’m gone.”

“Now you’re just being dramatic.” You dismissed him, closing your eyes as you fought back a smile.

“I can pull up the texts if you’d like,” he said, reaching for the patio table on the other side of you to grab his phone. As he did, you grabbed his wrist, holding his hand back so he could not proceed any further. “And the phone calls.” He let out a long breath, upping his extravagance to bring extra attention to his point. He didn’t cower under your hold, but he didn’t try to move again. “It always goes something like—‘oh, Jake, when are you coming home? I miss you so much’ or ‘only three more sleeps!’” He put on an airy, high pitched voice as he recounted the things you said to him most often.

“Oh, so that’s how we’re going to do this?” You asked, sitting up in your chair and turning towards him. “You don’t want me to start.” You warned, still holding his wrist tightly in your hand.

“Oh, yeah, whatever.” He scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“Uh-huh,” you hummed. “What about you? Calling me at three in the morning ‘cause you couldn’t sleep, or when you have a little too much to drink and you miss the sound of my voice?”

“Yeah, like I’d miss the sound of your annoying little ‘Jacob Kiszka’s’! You’re worse than my mom when you call!” He put an extra flair on his voice as he imitated you, striking a flame of annoyance within you.

“Maybe if you’d behave yourself when you’re gone, I wouldn’t have to—“

“Hey!” Josh shouted, turning his head back towards the two of you. “Stop fighting with each other. You’re ruining the vibes.” He motioned to the still, blue water of the pool, illuminated with sun rays.

“He started it.” You grumbled, letting go of his arm and pushing it away from yourself at the same time.

“I don’t care who started it, I’m finishing it!” Josh snipped, taking a sip of his drink. “Worse than children, the two of you.” He let out a disappointed tsk.

“Yes, mom.” You hung your head low with faux shame.

“Sorry, mom.” Jake joined, copying your actions. When Josh turned back to the pool, you could see Jake peeking over at you through the strands of his hair. You bit down on the inside of your lip, stifling the laugh that was rising in your throat. Then, in a hushed whisper, you could hear a grating sound coming from his lips. When you strained to listen, you could he him muttering words, mocking his twin brother for his inability to have fun.

The laugh that tore from your chest was loud, irritating, and disruptive to everyone sitting in the immediate vicinity. Your shoulders shook and your stomach ached from the laughter coursing through you. Josh whipped his head back around, his eyes settling on Jake with a scowl on his lips.

“Is he making fun of me? I know he’s making fun of me.” Josh huffed, ready to argue worse than what the two of you were doing moments before.

“No, Josh. Pinky promise that nobody was making fun of you.” You gave him a sweet smile, sipping at your straw.

“You always take his side!” Josh accused, still joking but spewing some truth about the situation.

“I’m not taking anyone’s side!” You defended, raising your hands in the air.

“F’course you are, ‘cause your in love with him!” Josh grumbled, frustrated at your constant insistence on having Jake’s back and not his.

“I am not!” You exploded, looking to the chair beside you. Jake was unbothered by the thought, amused by the situation unfolding before his eyes, and happy the attention was off him and on you, instead.

“Are too!” Sam joined in, using his foot to reel in one of the pool floaties. As he did, he slid from the poolside on top of the tube. After he situated himself, he pushed himself away from the side and floated to the middle of the water.

“Do you hear yourselves? Are you insane?” You fought off the accusations like your life depended on it, your cheeks burning red and your stomach twisted with embarrassment.

You weren’t sure why it was such a sore subject, but every time they spoke the idea into existence, your whole body felt like it would explode if you didn’t get yourself out of the spotlight.

“Look at her, she’s blushing.” Daniel cackled, his head turned just enough to see your face.

“Okay, that’s enough.” Jake cut in, realizing that you were more uncomfortable than they thought. “Josh, you’re just mad she broke up with you in the third grade. Let it go, man.” Jake said, watching as Josh’s expression dropped into one of great confusion. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again. His lips dipped into a frown, then he turned back towards the pool, lifting himself off the ground by his arms and sinking into the water.

Even if the other three knew they were in the right, they were never a match for the two of you when you joined forces against them.

When everyone distracted themselves with drinks and swimming, easily moving on from the moment of torment, Jake reached his arm out to you. He brushed the hair away from your shoulders, letting his hand rest on the back of your neck. The touch was calming, and when his fingers slipped into the hair at the nape of your neck, gently scratching over your head, you nearly forgot what had you upset in the first place. Your eyes fluttered closed and you leaned back into the chair.

“They’re just being assholes, trouble.” The nickname fell from his lips, smooth like silk and sweet as sugar. You could listen to him call you that all day and you were certain you would never get tired of it. “They don’t mean it, they just like to get under your skin.”

“I know.” You hummed, lost in the feeling of his hand on your neck. “Just don’t like it when they team up on me, is all. I know they’re just joking.”

And you did; they had been joking about the same thing since the summer before freshman year of high school, when you had spent every single day following Jake around like a second shadow. It would have hurt you more had he not been doing the exact same thing to you, and it would have been unbearable if you actually did feel that way about him. Back then, you laughed it off, and so did he. Both of you knew the notion was incredibly incorrect, and neither of you were too concerned about the constant teasing that came along with having a best friend of the opposite sex in a small town during your high school years.

In fact, nothing really bothered you much. There was nothing in the world that seemed to be able to tear the two of you apart, and no rumors or suspicious whispers ever changed the dynamics of your relationship. He was your best friend, and to this day, the simple fact remained the same. After a fateful encounter at the soccer field at the school on a warm July morning, the two of you got to know each other beyond what’s expected of familiar faces. You realized you had a whole hell of a lot in common, and within seconds, you realized that friendship with Jake Kiszka was a prized possession you never wanted to give up.

You knew each other beforehand, seeing each other in class and of course, the disastrous heartbreak of his twin brother in the fall of third grade (the relationship only lasted two weeks, but he really liked you), but never explored the possibilities of friendship until that summer.

Since then, you had never known anything else.

You spent days in his bedroom, watching him (poorly) play the new guitar his dad bought for him and watching movies that would quickly turn into memories that served you great comfort. He would walk your dog with you, and occasionally get ice cream with you at the corner store down the street when you both managed to scrape together enough change. When the school year started, you were his crutch for academics, and he was your’s for anything social. Before him, you didn’t have many friends, and the idea of high school always struck a sensitive nerve within you. With him by your side, you never felt like you had to worry about a thing. He held your hand through your first (real) heartbreak, and you helped him practice asking out girls to the school dances.

As you grew older, life changed, but never your friendship. Summers were the same, only with a little more freedom. You went on road trips when you felt your third-hand car could survive it, and got your older brother to buy you booze for house parties. You dated plenty of people, but none of the relationships ever lasted. Plenty of tears were shed, lots of memories were made, and one thing forever remained constant; his presence in your life, and his unwavering support. He wiped away the tears, shared the bottle of vodka, and always knew where to find you when a slow song came over the loudspeaker so he could get at least one dance in at the parties.

It was a relationship everyone yearned for, yet not many got to enjoy. It was a love that was never broken, and one that was never misused. It was the knowledge of never being alone, and knowledge that you never had to fall, because there would always be someone to catch you. More importantly, it was knowing that even if you did fall, and if you fell as far as rock bottom, he would wait beside you until you were back on your feet. You loved Jake for many things, but his support was unlike anything else. He always let you feel your way, figure it out yourself before he tried to fix it for you. He encouraged you to stand, rather than picking you up. It allowed you to learn, to make mistakes you needed to, but you never had to do it alone.

Jake Kiszka was the kind of person everyone wanted in their life, and you were the one lucky enough to have him around. It was a constant reminder to appreciate him, but it was also a constant question of what you ever did to deserve him.

The love carried you through to the very end of senior year, and all the way to a bittersweet goodbye. All of the support you had given to each other encouraged you enough to follow your dreams. The only downside was that your dreams could not happen overnight, and you could not complete them alongside each other. You loved each other so much that it forced you away from each other, but you both knew that staying together in fear of losing would only make you lose even more.

With teary eyes, he stood outside your car that was packed with your whole life, holding you in his arms until the very last second. With a kiss on the head, he sent you across the country with a reminder that he would always be your biggest fan, even if he was not there to tell you. You drove for hours, remembering the sight of the four boys waving you off at the end of your driveway, and did not stop until you landed in front of a dorm room and you were too exhausted to shed another tear.

You drive home on holidays, spending as much time with him as you could, but time was a thief, and you never had as much time as you wanted. Every visit home, and with every road trip across the country he took to see you, things were different. Never love, but life. He was older, his hair longer and his face prettier (how, you did not know). He watched as university tried and failed to beat you down, and you watched as his biggest dreams began to come true. As beautiful as it was, the distance was a killer. You hated seeing him show up at your door, just slightly different than he looked the last time. You were tired of going home and realizing how much had changed.

When you graduated, he was living in Nashville, just signed on by a bigger label and preparing to travel the world. Still, despite his growing popularity and never ending excitement, he never forgot about you. He showed up with a bouquet of flowers and a single suitcase, RSVPing the invitation as soon as he received it. He spent four days with you, laughing and crying, staying up until odd hours of the morning in an attempt to cling to the memory just a little longer. He told you he was going to start touring, and that he was scared he would lose you. You laughed and shook your head, knowing you would call and text him every spare minute you had.

Distance tried hard to tear the two of you apart the first time, and was determined to do it the second. Thankfully the two of you were strong enough to withstand it, and you knew that no matter how hard the years tried to change you, one thing remained certain; Jake would always be your best friend, no matter how far away he was.

You settled in Oregon for a few years, working outside with the environmental science degree you had bled for. He continued to travel the world, playing stages for thousands of people and releasing music he’d dreamed of writing since he was old enough to walk. You called, texted, and every now and again, visited each other. Life was good, simple and fun, but it didn’t feel right.

You had no idea why it felt that way, until you broke down on the phone with Jake as you confessed how badly you missed him.

That’s when things began to change.

He showed up, 85 hours later and running on zero sleep. With little plans and no real answer to your problems, he appeared at your front door, willing to do anything he could to take away the ache in your chest. It was a night full of tears, both of you drunk off wine and the feeling of being together again. In your bed in a run-down one bedroom apartment, he asked you to move to Nashville. After years of keeping silent, he admitted to how bad it was to be away from you. He offered you a place to stay and help looking for a job, and anything you could ever possibly need so long as you were living in the same city as him.

At first, you laughed.

Three weeks later, he flew back to Oregan with his brothers in tow and helped you pack up your life all over again.

This time, for good.

His brothers flew back to Nashville after the brunt of the work was done, but he stayed so he could drive with you. Standing in the driveway of the apartment complex where you had spent the last two years of your life, things seemed the same as they always did. You and your best friend against the world, ready to face a whole new and exciting chapter. As soon as he got behind the wheel of the car, assuring you he would drive the first half of the way, it was different.

Jake was not your childhood best friend who you shared scraped knees and melting ice cream cones with. He wasn’t the boy who used to play guitar for you in his parents basement, nor was he the one who walked your dog with you on those hot summer days. He was a man who was willing to drop everything in his (extremely) busy life to travel halfway across the country to make you happy. He was a man who was more beautiful than you could remember, and he was a man you were willing to drop your entire life for just to be with him again.

He was the same person, and so were you, but this time, everything changed.

You were in love with him, and so impossibly so that it made your head spin and your stomach sick.

You made a vow to secrecy, knowing if he ever found out, the world would never be the same. Losing him was not something you were ever willing to consider, because he was the only constant you ever had in the ever-changing world. For six months, you bargained with the feelings while sleeping in his spare room (some nights) and ate dinner with him at his kitchen table. Most of the time, especially at the beginning, you fell asleep in his bed while you watched terribly filmed and scripted YouTube documentaries in his bed, and you woke up with his arm slung across your waist and his head buried in your neck. You tried to tell yourself that with time, the fleeting feeling would pass and you would consider yourself ridiculous for ever thinking you felt that way about him, but that time never came. When he left for tour, gone for weeks at a time, you missed him more terribly than you ever had despite living in his home with his memory seared into every corner.

The reunions were sweeter, the hugs longer and the warmth in your heart larger than ever before. It was a dangerous game to play, because it was so hard to keep it to yourself. You knew that if things continued the way they had been going, you’d be forced down on one knee with a ring in your hand, begging for marriage.

So, a reluctant conversation surfaced after the third night in a row you had fallen asleep next to him. It was not the conversation you wanted to have, but it was one you needed to have. You sat him down, telling him with faux happiness that you had enough money to put a down payment on a house a few blocks away. You expected him to rejoice, to celebrate the victory of home ownership with you and jump to help you move out, but he did none of those things. Instead, he forced a tight-lipped smile on his face after he cleared his throat. He gave one, firm nod and reached across the table to grab your hand.

“I didn’t know you were looking.” He said, his sadness equal to a punch in the stomach. “I would have let you live here forever, you know. I never wanted you to move out.”

You had so many questions, ones that you did not know if you wanted an answer to. You looked down at his hand in yours, wondering how you had gotten yourself in such a position. You had fallen for the one person you knew you shouldn’t, and you couldn’t bear the thought of the consequences, which is why you forced yourself to buy the fixer-upper, anyway.

Had you gotten it wrong? Did he feel the same as you did?

You were too cowardly to ask, and a month later, you had enlisted the help of the four boys to renovate a house you weren’t even that keen on living in. With five of you, the work was pretty fast, but that was the worst part of it all. After seeing Jake’s reaction to you telling him you were moving out, you wanted to stay, to drag the renovations out for as long as humanly possible, but you knew they would catch on. Instead of dwelling on all of the things you should have said, you focused on what you were going to have. Luckily, the house renovations were mostly aesthetic, and it was done within a few weeks. By the end of it, you were excited to have something of your own to do whatever you pleased with.

Then, Jake had to suggest a fucking pool.

You were happy, content with having everything finished and being moved in (and more importantly, moved out of his house). Things finally seemed to go back to normal, no waking up next to a boy who made your heart beat a little too fast, and no dinners bordering too close to romance.

But it was boring, and you made the mistake of complaining about it.

“It’ll be a great housewarming gift, y/n.” He said, his arms outstretched as a shit-eating grin encased his (infuriatingly) beautiful face.

“Jacob, I don’t need a pool. Besides, I spent all of my money tearing out the carpet and buying the ‘real’ wooden panel flooring that Sam insisted I needed.” You argued, looking down at the expensive flooring with a scowl on your lips. “Stupid fuckin’ wood.”

“That was your fault for listening to Sam in the first place!” He exclaimed, looking around the empty living room. “And besides, do you even know what a gift is? It means someone gives it to you, because they bought it.”

“You’re not buying me a pool, Jacob Kiszka.”

“You’re right,” he gave a slow nod, looking at the fenced in backyard through the large living room windows. “I’m not going to buy you a pool. I’m going to pay a bunch of men to build one!”

Turns out that building a pool is much more costly than he previously anticipated. You figured he would scrap the idea entirely and just buy you an inflatable kiddie pool on your birthday to keep true to his word. You would have been fine with it —no, you would have been more than happy with it. You weren’t sure you could accept such a grandois show of affection from a man you were trying so hard not to have feelings for, but you knew better than to expect the bare minimum from Jake. In the ten or so years of knowing him, he had never stooped as low as the bare minimum.

So he suggested the two of you do the brunt of the work together, then he would pay someone to do the rest.

The issue was, neither of you had any idea how to build a pool (or start to, for that matter) and that entailed a surplus of quality time that you moved out specifically to avoid.

But, you had never been able to say no to Jake, especially when his eyes grew soft and his bottom lip jutted out into a small pout. Puppy dog eyes were your kryptonite, and from him, you were sure it would be your demise.

After a few weeks of digging up ground and clearing your backyard, the area was finally sufficient to hire someone to finish the job. Not long after that, the concrete was poured and set, and soon enough, what used to be a grassy patch had become a pool that was much more expensive than you ever could have afforded.

“This is too much, Jake. I can never even begin to repay you for this.” You said, a hand on your head as your facial features twisted with stress. It was stunning, inviting, and your favourite part of the entire home, and it was all thanks to him.

“You don’t need to repay me, trouble. I wanted to do it.” He said, slinging an arm around your shoulder as he pulled you into his side. The action made your heart flutter and your stomach fill with butterflies. “Do you know how fun it’s going to be? We can get Sam some arm floaties and Josh a life jacket, then we can have so many pool parties.”

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” You sighed, resting your head on his shoulder as you looked out at the blue water.

“I ask myself the same thing about you, every day.” His hand on your upper arm tightened ever so slightly as he spoke. “You dropped your entire life to move to Nashville, Y/N, just so we could be together again. Do you have any idea how much that means to me? Do you have any idea how much you mean to me?” You turned your head upwards, looking over his face. His head was already turned down and he seemed to have been staring at you for some time.

“I love you, Jake.” You mumbled, giving him a smile. If only he knew how true the words really were.

“I told you a pool was a great idea, trouble.” Jake said, clearly trying to take your mind off Josh’s teasing. You crossed your arms over your chest, the still-damp material of your bikini top sticking to your dry skin as you did so.

“I’m not going to say it, Jake.” You huffed, standing your ground. He’d been trying to get you to tell him he was right since the day the pool was finished, but you had bit your tongue and held back every time. “Your head is big enough as is. No need for me to inflate your ego even more.”

“Oh, so that’s how you want to be?” He asked, sitting up in his chair. His eyebrows were knitted together as his eyes silently begged you to retract the rude statement.

“That’s how I’m going to be, yeah.” You nodded, unwilling to back down. “What’s it to you?”

“You know, I’ve always been so nice to you, and I’m just supposed to take this abuse?” He continued, making a move to stand. He sat his beer on the table on the opposite side of you, raising to his feet with a slight sway. You could tell the summer heat was mixing with the alcohol in his system, and he was feeling good. In truth, you weren’t far behind him in the drunken race.

“Yeah, I’m just the worst, Jake. I’m so mean to you.” You laughed, looking up at him as he stood over you. His shadow casted a chill over you, making you realize you hadn’t moved from the sun soaked seat in hours.

“You said it, not me.” He said, his hands on his hips as he continued to tower over you. “Are you going to take it back?”

“Fuck no!” You laughed, placing your drink beside you in case he made any sudden moves that caused a spill. “I’m not going to tell you that you were right, and I’m not going to take it back. You have an ego problem, Jacob, and I think it’s time you realized it. You don’t have to be right all of the time.” The sass in your tone was completely humorous, used only to irritate him further.

Even as you two found yourself in a mock-fight, you couldn’t help but admire the beauty of the picture before you. His sun-kissed skin was glowing under the rays, and his dark hair was tousled perfectly after it had dried from his pool escapades. There was a slight wave to it, and the wind was blowing it away from his face. His shirtless chest was catching your attention, but not nearly as much as the peek of a v-line from his swim trunks, and the patch of hair under his belly button leading to the hem of the fabric. Your heart sped as you remembered what it felt like with his chest pressed to your back and his hand resting on your hip while he was sleeping away the earliest hours of the morning.

Either he did not notice your staring, or he did and he opted not to call you out on it. You were happy either way, because not even being caught staring at Jake was an embarrassment anymore. It happened so often that you felt odd when your eyes weren’t on him. Before you could digest his eyes on you in the same way, he was leaning down with outstretched arms. With ease, one of his arms slid around your lower back. He shifted to the side, hooking his other arm under your thighs. With a swift motion, he lifted you off the chair. You let out a shriek of discontent, knowing exactly where his mind was as he straightened himself up. Now that he was holding you, he seemed all the more steady on his feet, almost as if he was terrified to drop you.

“Jacob Kiszka, do not throw me in that pool or I swear to god—“

“Or what?” He mocked you, cutting you off as he took two steps away from the chair. Your arms slung around his neck, holding on tightly as he clambered closer to the poolside. “What are you gonna do, trouble?”

“I don’t know, but it won’t be good!” You fought against his hold, trying to shake out of his grasp and land back on your feet.

“Oh, I’m so scared!” He laughed, his feet now at the very edge of the pool. “Say it, trouble! Last chance!”

“Never!” You fought back, feeling your body already tense in anticipation of the cold water on your skin.

“Throw her, Jake!” Josh cheered in the background, lingering in the deep end by the side so he avoided the splash zone. He was laughing at the sight of the two of you, always amidst some kind of argument. Jake looked over his shoulder at his brother, smirking at the encouragement.

Josh had a knowing look in his eye, his feelings completely unspoken but apparent to the boy standing over the pool. He knew, just as well as Danny and Sam did. Even as Jake tried to play it cool, and as you deflected every accusation, love completely surrounded the two of you wherever you went.

“Josh, what the hell! You’re supposed to be on my side!” You pleaded, frantic for someone to stop him before he let go.

“Do it, Jake!” Danny yelled over the sound of your voice, laughing as he watched your head whip towards him.

“You guys fucking suck-“ before you could finish your angry sentiments, you felt Jake’s arms move upwards. You took in a sharp breath, holding it as you prepared yourself for him to follow through with throwing you in the water.

But, you had always been the one to get the last laugh.

As he tossed you forward, you tightened your arms around him. As your body pulled away from his, your arms stayed locked behind him, causing him to stumble with the force he’d thrown you with. You heard a laugh leave his lips as your ass touched the surface of the pool, and not long after you were fully submerged in the water. You were barely able to contain your laughter when Jake fell into the water on top of you. When you swam to the surface, you noticed that he did not join you. You looked down into the water, nervous that you might have hurt him, but you did not have to think of it for very long; his hands reached for your thighs as he swam towards you, and with one strong motion, he pulled you back under the water again.

Smiling and holding your breath, you tried your best to fight his hold. After a few seconds of a futile attempt, he loosened his grip and the both of you resurfaced. With his arms still around you and his hair covering his face, he guided you towards the shallow end before he pulled you into his chest. His breathing was ragged, still recovering from the minutes underwater. You relaxed against him, finding yourself breathless for a whole different reason.

“Good one, trouble.” He muttered, pushing his hair away from his face. The water droplets streaming down his cheeks only made him all the more inviting, and his hand on your barely clothed hip was driving you crazy. He reached out, brushing the stray hairs away from your face, in no hurry to move away from you.

“The pool was a good idea, Jake.” You whispered, smiling at him. His lips parted slightly as he tried to process what you were saying to him, and after a few seconds, you saw his eye twitch as he held back a grin.

“What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you.” He said, turning his head to the side so his ear was closer to your mouth.

“Don’t make me say it again.” You groaned, but you were still smiling despite your annoyance.

“Just one more time?” He pleaded, his fingers tightening on your hip as he asked. It was absent minded, almost as if it was natural for him to touch you so intimately. He didn’t even seem to think twice about it, and he certainly didn’t seem keen on breaking the hold.

“Fine,” you huffed, unable to deny the man of anything he asked for. “You were right about the pool.”

“Sorry, trouble. Can you speak up? I really can’t hear you.” He said, a laugh stuck in his throat as he continued the bit.

“Oh, fuck you, Jake.” You grumbled, rolling your eyes at him.

“—I’m not paying a delivery fee when I have two working legs!” Your attention was drawn to the poolside yet again, and as you looked past Jake to see what the commotion was about, you could have sworn you felt Jake move to be just a little bit closer to you. “Can you think? Do you ever use your head?” Sam continued, flicking Josh on the forehead to solidify his stance on the matter. Josh swatted his hand away, clearly annoyed with his actions but trying to keep his composure.

“Ten dollars is really going to kill you? Ten fucking dollars?” Josh fought back, his eyebrows knitted together similar to how Jake’s looked when he was upset. Jake turned fully, sliding his arm around you so he did not have to lose contact while he watched his brothers argue. You couldn’t help but feel the familiar swarm of butterflies overtake your stomach once again.

“Maybe it is, ‘cause it’s ten dollars I don’t have to spend!”

“You’re cheap, Sam.” Josh responded, his lips turning down into a frown.

“It’s okay. We can walk, it’s not that far.” Daniel said, breaking the tension with a hand on both of their shoulders. “We can stop at the corner store and grab another case of beer on the way back.” Danny offered. “They won’t deliver that, anyway.” With a huff through his nose, Josh eventually gave a nod.

“Fine, we can walk, but that’s not my point.” He said, stepping away from the two to grab his wallet and his shirt. “You know I’m right, you just won’t admit it.” He pointed a finger at Sam, his tone grave.

“God, you two really are twins.” You whispered, looking sideways at Jake.

“What can I say? We’re stubborn.” Jake gave a slight shrug of his shoulder.

“That’s putting it lightly.” You giggled, turning back to the three standing together.

“We’re going to get pizza,” Josh announced. “And we’re walking, because ten dollars split five ways is just too much for Sam.” You stifled a laugh, biting down on the inside of your lip so you did not further the tension in the air. “And we’re going to the gas station, I guess. Care to join?” Josh asked, looking suspiciously between the two of you. You glanced at Jake, waiting for him to answer first. When he realized all three of them were staring at you, he slowly removed his arm from your waist.

“No, I’ll stay, I think.” He cleared his throat, looking at you as he awaited your response.

“Yeah, me too.” You nodded, forcing a small smile despite your anxiety about the situation you’d found yourselves in.

“Figures.” Josh gave a cheeky smile, slipping his shirt over his head. “We’ll be back, please don’t forget that.” He continued as the other two boys stepped towards the fence gate. You felt your cheeks burn, looking down towards the water to avoid the staring. “You guys want anything? As long as Sam doesn’t deem it too expensive to buy?”

“Shove it, Josh.” Sam muttered, unlatching the metal lock as he pushed open the wooden door. “Be back soon!” He called over his shoulder as the other two followed him out. When the gate slammed closed, the lock clicked itself shut, sealing the two of you alone inside your backyard.

You shook your head, chuckling at the scene that had just unfolded before looking over to your best friend, who already seemed to find himself staring at you. Without a word, you took a few steps forward in the water, reaching out for the floatie Sam had abandoned when pizza was mentioned. Jake followed closely behind you, likely scheming another way to disrupt your day of relaxation. You pulled the brightly coloured tube towards you, steadying yourself as you centered it with your body. With one strong push, you pulled yourself up out of the water and lurched forward, heaving a sigh of relief as you landed on the tube. You turned around, careful not to fall off, and settled your ass in the middle. With a small smile, you relaxed and let your arms hang over the side, your fingers grazing the surface of the water as you looked up at the sky.

Jake was beside you, smiling to himself as he watched you. “You look comfortable.” He noted, propping his arms on the side of the floatie and resting his chin on it as he gazed up at your face.

“I am.” You agreed, looking at him through the corner of your eye. “And I’d like to stay that way, if you don’t mind.”

“You always think the worst of me, sweetheart.” He laughed quietly to himself, seemingly lost in thought about something other than the topic at hand. “Do you remember the year we bought that cheap inflatable pool? We put it in your backyard and sat in it all summer.”

“Yeah,” you laughed at the thought, closing your eyes as you recalled the memory. “It was that summer before senior year. My car broke down on the way to Walmart. Took us all damn day to even get the thing.”

“We got it though, after Josh came to the rescue.” He reminded you.

“That pool was like four feet wide, max. I have no idea how the two of us even fit in it.” You grinned. “And it looked like a watermelon. The cashier thought we were idiots.”

“Because we are.” He laughed, turning his head to the side so his cheek was laying on his arm and his eyes were stuck on you.

“Yeah, we were.” You nodded, bringing your hand to his face and brushing the stray hairs away from his eyes. You knew you shouldn’t, and that the touch was too intimate for a friendly relationship, but you couldn’t help it. You wanted to touch him all of the time and never have to worry about anything else.

“Did you ever think we would end up here, in a real pool, living as sort-of neighbors almost ten years later?” He asked, reminiscing on the years of memories shared between the two of you.

“No.” You shook your head, only telling him a half-truth. You didn’t think you would end up like this, but you had always hoped you would. Actually, you always hoped you would end up like you were months before, living together in the same home, sharing a bed every night. Although you had what you once dreamed of, it wasn’t in the way you wanted it to be. As much as you enjoyed your brief stay at Jake’s house, you knew it was for the best that you left. You couldn’t keep hoping for love when you knew it wasn’t possible. You couldn’t open yourself up to the idea, because you couldn’t stomach the thought of losing him.

“I miss you living with me.” He confessed, his cheeks rosy from the liquor coursing through his veins. He would never have harnessed the courage to admit it sober, but he felt like he needed to get it off his chest, just in case you felt the same. “My bed is weirdly empty without you in it.” You felt frozen in place, his words hitting you much harder than they should have. You didn’t want to speak, fearful that the moment meant more to you than it did to him, so instead you sat, staring at him with parted lips and surprise in your eyes. “Sorry, that was weird. I didn’t mean—“

“S’okay, Jake.” You smiled, letting your hand fall from his face to his bicep. You gave his arm a small squeeze, reassuring him that it was alright. “I miss it too. I think I jumped the gun with buying a house. It’s nice, and I am excited, but it’s lonely, I guess.”

“Why did you leave?” He asked, the words coming out too quick for him to possibly stop them. As you looked over his expression, you realized it was a question he’d been dying to ask since you told him that you were moving out.

“Oh,” you breathed, swallowing hard as you tried to come up with a quick lie. “I, uh, I didn’t want you to get sick of me. I felt bad, like I was a freeloader and you were doing charity work.” You forced a smile on your face, trying to make the situation lighter by joking, but he didn’t seem to take it as such. His eyebrows furrowed, and a flash of pain crossed his eyes.

“You know I would never feel that way, Y/N. I waited for you, you know? Till you were finished school, for when you had a job and you knew what you wanted to do… I waited for you to call me and tell me you wanted to be with me again.” Your heart sped and your stomach sunk. As sweet as the sentiment was, you couldn’t help but feel yourself grow defensive over the idea. He was being far too romantic for a man who never once seemed keen on being more than friends.

“I just… I had to, Jake, okay?” You rushed out, scared he would back you into a corner and make you confess the one thing you wanted to keep secret. The pain on his face made you regret the words immediately, and you knew that fighting was the last thing you wanted to do. “I’m sorry.” You breathed, trying to focus and understand the jumble of words plaguing your brain. You wanted to be honest, to tell the truth, but every time you came close, you thought you might be sick. “I loved living with you, Jake. I think it was the happiest I’ve ever been, but I don’t want you to get sick of me, and I think that being roommates with someone you love so much is a tricky thing. I… losing you would be the worst thing in the whole world.”

“You’re ridiculous, Y/N.” His words were harsh, but his lips were upturned into a smile. “In all of the years I’ve known you, I’ve never been sick of you, and I never will be.” He said, the certainty in his tone making your head spin. “But hey, we got a pool. That has to count for something.” You liked the sound of his words, making it seem like you two were more than best friends. If not a couple, then definitely a team.

“We did get a pool.” You grinned, only slightly guilty that you had such a hard time returning his sweet words.

As always, you were terrified that it would mean something different to him than it did to you.

“You know what the best thing about a pool is?” He asked, his eyes scanning the still surface of the water.

“Hmm?” You hummed, naive to believe his question was innocent.

“It makes it so easy to annoy you.” He answered, giving you no time to register his words before he backed away from the tube and dipped his hands below it. With a strong push, he flipped it over and sent you tumbling into the water again.

You were so shocked at the suddenness of his actions that you forgot to hold your breath, finding yourself choking on water as you forced your way back to the surface. When your head popped back up, you were too busy coughing to notice Jake’s echoing laughter. When he noticed your distress, the amusement disappeared and concern replaced it. He pushed the tube out of the way, swimming towards you as you continued to clear your lungs of any water that remained.

“Hey,” Jake said, now in front of you as he reached out to hold you. “Are you okay?” He asked, looking over your face as you took in a shaky breath. “I’m sorry, trouble. I was just messing around.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m alright.” You nodded, noticing the closeness of his body as his hands lingered on your arms. “You’re a dick.” You snipped, fully recovered as a grin blossomed on your cheeks.

“Seriously, you’re okay?” He disregarded your insult completely, still concerned with your well-being.

“Yeah, I’m good.” You nodded, reaching out and placing a hand on his side under the water to reassure him of the fact. He was so close, so comfortable and alluring. You couldn’t seem to pull yourself away from him, remembering how nice the physical contact felt with him. He didn’t seem to be in a rush to part ways with you, either, his eyes locked with yours and his hands anchored in position.

Instead of dwelling on the yearning of your heart, you took advantage of the moment and used all of the force you could muster to push him. He lost his footing under the pressure and stumbled backwards, his upper half crashing into the water as he sank below the surface with a splash. With a laugh stuck in your throat, you watched him fight his way above water as he suffered through your revenge. When he was back on his feet, there was a fire in his eyes and a devious smile on his face.

“No, Jake, we’re even now.” You pleaded, pointing a finger of warning in his direction as he began to move towards you.

“Uh-huh.” He nodded, clearly in disagreement with you.

“Seriously, stop!” You exclaimed, backing away from him as he closed in on you. Before you could get away, he was in front of you and his hands landed on your hips. In a moment of desperation, you locked your legs around his waist as he lifted you off your feet, cementing the idea in his head that if you went down, he was coming with you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, clinging to him as closely as you could to deter his attack. “I swear to god, Jake, stop!” You let out a shriek of laughter, preparing for his unforgiving nature one last time, but it never came.

Instead, he seemed frozen in place, immobile from the position you had forced upon him. When the adrenaline faded and you understood he was making no further effort to dunk you under the water, your sanity returned and so did your self-awareness. In your desperation to avoid his shenanigans, you had clung to him in such a way that his face was settled on your chest, and your legs wrapped around him so tightly that you had put him in a very compromising position. If that wasn’t enough to embarrass you, your actions not only seemed to cause a short circuit in his brain, but a growing problem in his pants. A problem that was so imminent you could feel it.

You were certain he could feel your heartbeat through your chest as his chin rested on top of your breasts, propped up by the padded material of your bikini top. Your hands tangled in the hair on the back of his neck did not make the scene any less explicit than it already was, and perhaps the worst part of it all was that shame seemed like a far away feeling, covered completely by need for him. For a moment, you weren’t lifelong best friends, nor were you afraid of any consequences. You were a woman consumed with desire for the person below you, and it seemed as though he was a man gone mad. You feared you had the signal mixed up, that you were so lost in your own feelings for him that you were confusing his feelings for you. Then, his hands on your hips slid backwards, cautious and careful as his grip settled on your ass.

You took in a shaky breath, the touch electrifying your entire body. In reaction, without thinking, you shifted downwards on him. Somewhere deep in his chest, a low groan sounded as his fingers tightened on you. The skimpy bikini bottoms left little to the imagination as he pulled you down on him further, his cock pressing against your clothed core. Your eyes fluttered closed, wondering if you were dreaming or if the euphoric feeling of being so close was actually a reality. You turned your head downwards, finding him already looking up at you with an unfamiliar look in his eye. He straightened his upper half, his face lifting from your chest and advancing unusually close to your own. You could smell the alcohol on his breath as the tip of his nose brushed against yours, and it was driving you close to insanity.

You wanted to taste him, to feel his lips on yours and explore the possibilities that were presenting themselves. You could feel how hard he was, how badly he needed the relief similar to yourself. Your mouth was watering at the idea of feeling him, and you were aching at the fantasy of finally having him in a way you only ever dreamed of.

The tips of his fingers traced the outline of your bikini bottoms, curious and eager to go further. Why wasn’t he pulling away? Why was he letting this go so far without saying a word to stop it? Could he really feel the same way? There were too many questions, and you did not care much for the answer as you lowered your hips on him a little further. As you did so, the friction from the movement gave you a sense of relief. A quiet whine forced its way through your teeth, and you were unable to stop it before it reached his ears.

“Careful, trouble.” He whispered, his voice husky and the vibration of his chest rattling your own. His lips were so close to yours, nearly brushing yours as he moved them to speak. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.” His tone of voice made it hard to decipher if his statement was a warning or an invitation.

“Who said I can’t finish it?” You challenged, desperate to keep him there for a little while longer. You weren’t ready to give him up just yet.

“You know better.” He said, the words forced like he hated to say it. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Why not?” You challenged, your face inching closer to his own as you awaited a proper answer.

“God,” he hissed, sucking a sharp breath in through his teeth. “You always make it so fucking hard to do the right thing.” This time, he pulled you down on him, unable to resist the temptation of feeling you on him.

Before you could get to the bottom of his ambiguous words, voices filled the air through the screen door of your kitchen and a rush of fear filled you. The grating sound of the tread on the door against the frame caused you to recoil away from Jake, pushing yourself backwards as if you had never been in the confusing situation at all. As bodies filled the patio, laughing and completely unaware of what they interrupted, you looked to Jake to see what he was thinking. As if it was some kind of sick joke, his face was plastered with undeniable disappointment, and behind his eyes, there was a glimmer of hurt.

You thought you might be sick. Your head was pounding and your stomach was twisted with anxiety. To make matters even worse, you were still aching for relief, aching to be back in his arms with your body pressed against his. Surely there was no way in hell that he wanted it too, and you tried to convince yourself you were crazy for thinking so, but the sadness on his face told you a completely different story. His lack of care about the position and his enjoyment of the moment was obvious, but it was too much to process all at once.

Instead, you decided to pretend that it never happened at all. Of course, it was the most painful thing to do, but in his own words, it was the right thing to do.

“Jesus, what happened? You both look like you saw a ghost.” Josh asked, his voice booming and breaking you both from the storm of emotions consuming you. There was a smile on his lips and clear ignorance to what the group had interrupted. You cleared your throat, shaking the emotions away as you noticed the group had doubled in size since the three had left. The boys partners had been planning on joining after work, but in lieu of the whirlwind of events, the knowledge seemed to slip your mind.

“No, all good.” You assured him, glancing at Jake to see he’d made a quick recovery, too.

“Hope you don’t mind the extra company.” Josh grinned, setting a pizza box down on the patio table.

“No, f’course not. The more the merrier, right?” You forced a smile, but you knew everyone could tell that it wasn’t genuine. You hoped that they didn’t misconstrue the dishonesty behind it, because it had nothing to do with extra bodies surrounding the pool, but rather the boy stuck in there with you.

“Right.” Josh nodded, smiling at his partner beside him. “Come and eat, trouble.” He said, nodding his head to the chairs you and Jake had sat in not long before.

“Yeah, okay.” You breathed, giving a curt nod. “You coming?” You asked Jake, feeling guiltier by the second.

“Yeah,” he nodded, his voice hoarse as his eyes connected with yours. “Just give me a minute.” He whispered, just loud enough for you to hear. Your cheeks burned at his words, realizing what he meant and why he had to stay. “Please?” He pleaded, knowing that having you in the pool beside him was not helping his situation.

“Yeah, okay.” You nodded, nervous as you repeated the same words as earlier. In a rush, you swam towards the ladder and hoisted yourself up. You climbed out of the pool, shuffling towards the group as you tried to pull yourself together. You grabbed a towel from the back of a chair as you approached the group, drying your hands before quickly wiping the water from your limbs. Sam seemed enamored with his partner, barely noticing anything that was happening around them, and Daniel was amidst a painful bout of flirting with the girl he’d been talking to for weeks now. You felt good, confident that nobody was suspicious of you and what happened while they were gone, until your eyes locked with Josh’s.

He cocked his head to the side, a playful smirk on his lips as he raised an eyebrow. Plagued with guilt and embarrassment, you cowered under his stare, giving him all the answer he needed. In true Josh fashion, he couldn’t have cared less about what happened so long as he knew for a fact that something happened. He was selective with his need for gossip, never caring about the details but desperate to know that his suspicions were correct, especially when it came to you and Jake. Thankfully, the intensity of the moment dissipated as people began to fill the chairs around the table. Paper plates were passed around as pizza was served, and Jake had recovered enough to get out of the pool and join the rest of you.

Sam’s girlfriend was in his lap on the chair, and Danny was sitting next to his new fling, taking up two seats. Josh, seeing the opportunity to further his torment of you and Jake, took one of the two remaining chairs and offered it to his boyfriend. Then, he threw a folded towel on the ground and took a seat in front of him, between his legs. With a devilish smile, he looked to you and Jake, awkwardly glancing at the only available seat left with plates of food in your hand.

“You take it, trouble.” Jake said, motioning his head towards the chair. “I’m fine sitting on the ground.”

“No, Jake. You take it.” You shook your head, unwilling to make him sit on the ground after you had hurt his feelings.

“Come on, don’t be like that.” He frowned, too stubborn to take it from you.

“Here’s an idea,” Josh pitched in his two cents, sipping his drink before continuing. “You could both sit on the chair so neither of you have to sit on the ground?” He offered, raising an eyebrow. You shot him a glare, expecting nothing less but hoping to be proven wrong. “What? You guys shared a bed for months, but sitting on his lap is too much?” Josh was desperate for a reaction, desperate for the two of you to fess up about how you felt for each other, and he was playing devils advocate to get his way. “Unless there’s a problem, trouble?” He pushed a little harder, but you stood your ground in hopes of silencing him.

“No, no problem at all, as long as you’re okay with that.” You looked at Jake, who gave a shrug. He knew just as well as you did what his twin brother was trying to do, but arguing with him never got you anywhere.

“Yeah, that sounds good.” He nodded, taking a seat on the chair. He outstretched his arms towards you, inviting you in with great pleasure as if the awkward moment in the pool never happened at all. He had a paper plate clutched in one hand and a beer in the other with a dopey smile on his lips and rosy cheeks. Despite all of the days strange events, you could not seem to refute the fact that he was adorable.

You stepped towards him, careful as you placed your drink on the table. You sat, mindful not to hurt him as you shifted into a comfortable position in his lap. You twisted to the side, throwing both of your legs over his as you leaned back on him. He put his beer bottle into the cup holder in the arm of the chair and hooked his arm around your waist to hold you in position.

“How’s that?” He asked, just loud enough for you to hear.

“Good.” You squeaked, unable to confess how much you truly enjoyed it. He placed his paper plate on your leg, and within seconds, the awkwardness dissolved into nothing.

You ate, laughing at the topics the boys were discussing (and arguing about), pretending like it was just another normal day for you, but your mind couldn’t help but wander back to the incident in the pool. You couldn’t stop thinking about his hands on you, testing his limit as they travelled over your skin. Your mind only wanted to remember how close his face was to yours, his warm breath on your skin and his nose brushing your own. More than that, you couldn’t seem to forget the way he felt underneath you, worked up from the position alone and nothing else. Over and over again the memory of him pulling your hips down on his filled your mind, and it didn’t take long for the incessant ache began between your legs yet again.

Truth be told, it was not the first time the two of you found yourselves in a compromising position—in fact, it happened more often than not, but this time, it seemed intentional. There was no shying away, and both of you seemed content with progressing further had there been no interruptions. Back when you lived with him, finding yourself sleeping in his bed more often than not, compromising positions were the only way you ever started your day. Whether you woke up, your face resting comfortably on his chest and his hand on your hip to hold you in place, or if you were on your side with his chest pressed against your back and his hand nestled under your shirt on your stomach. Closeness was not foreign to you and Jake, and unfortunately, neither was sexual tension.

Most mornings, more so when he found himself as the big spoon, your ass pressed against him did little to help keep things platonic. It was always a struggle to force yourself out of bed, to pretend you didn’t notice a thing so he did not feel ashamed or embarrassed about his own actions, because you wanted nothing more than to stay in bed and take care of the problems for him.

In fact, you were certain there was not a problem in the world you wouldn’t take pleasure in solving for him.

But today, you were conscious, both aware of the consequences and uncaring of them. He was willingly holding you there, testing his limits in the process, and he was sad when you pulled away. That was something you did not expect from him, and it was the very thing that was causing all of the overthinking in the first place. Did he really want you, or was he just being a guy, desperately infatuated by a woman no matter who she was? Was his sexual frustration your doing, or a result of a sexual draught he’d been caught in for months? You and Jake had always dated other people, but it usually never extended beyond hookups and talking stages. Since you’d moved in with him, neither of you even bothered to search for a date or a person to bring home after the bar. At first, you thought you were doing it out of respect for him and a dislike for the idea of having sex with someone else in his house, but you quickly understood that it was much more than that.

You didn’t want to date or hookup with anyone, because you wanted to do it with him. It had nothing to do with respect, and everything to do with your feelings towards the one boy you shouldn’t feel that way about.

You were confused, anxious, and worried that the instance might change the dynamic of your friendship, especially if any of your previous questions were answered with something undesirable. You wanted him to want you. You wanted him to love you, in the same undying and relentless way that you loved him, but it was far too much to ask of him. You didn’t want him to sleep with you because he was in a dry spell; you wanted him to sleep with you because he wanted you, rather than just for sex. The longer you thought about it, the more you realized you had been feeling this way for much longer than you ever realized it.

“Y/N?” Jake asked, shaking you slightly. You snapped back to reality by the burning feeling of his palm on your bare thigh. You turned your head towards him, wondering what he wanted and how long you had been zoned out for. You gazed around the circle of friends, realizing that all eyes were on you. The embarrassment began to eat you alive as you mustered out a hum of acknowledgment. “Josh was wondering if you wanted to play Pizza Box.” He repeated, his hand still lingering on your skin.

“Yeah, I love Pizza Box.” You nodded, looking down at his hand. You couldn’t help but think of how good it looked, decorating your leg and holding you as if you were his.

“What’s Pizza Box?” The girl sitting next to Daniel spoke, laughing nervously as Josh began to break down the cardboard box on the table.

“You see, my dear friend, it’s a game of great strategy.” Josh began, shaking off the crumbs onto the concrete.

“It’s a drinking game.” Jake corrected, rolling his eyes at his brother.

“Yes, a drinking game of great strategy!” Josh continued, finding a quarter at the bottom of his bag.

“It’s not, Sierra.” You cut in, reassuring her of the fact. “It’s super random and it’s really fun.”

“Okay,” she breathed a sigh of relief, looking at Danny and giving him a smile. He reached out and placed a hand on her knee, giving it a small squeeze.

“There is a science and I will not take any further arguments on the matter.” Josh snipped, fishing around in his bag for a sharpie. You played the game so often that he never left home without one.

“I learned about it at a frat party in my first year at college.” You shut him down once more, enjoying the frustration on his face. “We play it every time we drink. Basically, we’re going to write everyone’s name on the box and circle it. We take turns throwing the quarter, and if it lands on someone’s name, they have to take a drink.” She nodded along, following your instruction carefully. “If it lands in an empty space on the box, the person who threw the quarter gets to write a rule, as big or as small as they’d like, and if the quarter lands on that, we have to do whatever it says.”

“Oh, that’s not too hard, then.”

“No, it’s not, and it’s really fun, I promise.” You smiled. “Be prepared to get drunk, though. There’s a lot of drinking in this one.” You warned. Your eyes turned back to Josh, watching him as he wrote everyone’s name down and tried to keep them the same size. He circled his own name last, then pushed the table to the center of the circle.

“Alright, Lena. You want to start?” Josh asked, looking at Sam’s girlfriend. She gave a nod, holding out her hand. Josh tossed the quarter in her direction. She caught it, focusing for a moment before tossing it down on the table. The coin landed on Sam’s name, almost perfectly in the middle, and she let out a laugh at the sight.

“Hey!” Sam complained, furrowing his eyebrows. “You’re supposed to be on my team!”

“Not a team game, Sammy. Drink up.” You smirked. With a huff and an eye roll, he did as he was told. Lena leaned forward and grabbed the quarter, handing it to the boy sitting on the chair underneath her. He gave it a lazy toss, landing on a blank spot next to Roman’s name. Josh’s boyfriend let out a sigh of relief, knowing he narrowly avoided the sentence to drink.

“Uhm,” Sam hummed aloud, trying his best to think of a rule. “Players who land on the spot can’t swear for the rest of the game. Every time they do, they have to drink. You can write it for me.” Josh nodded, leaning forward and circling the words ‘swearing = drink’. Sierra grabbed the coin, sitting back in her chair as she looked around the board. With a targeted throw, she landed on Danny’s name. Without complaint, he sipped at his beer, then took his own turn.

By the time the circle was complete and Lena was ready to take her turn again, mostly everyone had been sentenced to drink with the exception of you. Now, the group had a pact to shoot for your name. Lena tried, but missed entirely, which came a new rule of ‘boys drink’. Sam missed and hit Jake’s name, and Sierra landed on Josh’s name. Danny made the new rule of ‘girls drink’ to counter Lena, and Roman landed on it when he took his turn. The board filled quickly, now including rules pertaining to shenanigans rather than drinking. Jake added one, stating that if the player landed on it, they had to swim a lap of the pool. Sienna added one in which the player had to attempt at a cartwheel.

The board was filled enough that the rules began to slow, and the fun began. With a reluctant round of clinking beer bottle necks, the boys took a drink. Josh tried (and failed) to do a cartwheel on the grass, and Jake had to swim a lap in the pool, grumbling about his own rules being used against him. When he returned to the chair to sit, you refused to let him back on it, giggling as you reasoned with him.

“I just dried off! It’ll be cold and wet and gross, and it’s starting to get dark out!” You complained, anchoring your hands on the arm of the chair.

“We can do this the easy way, or the hard way, trouble.” He bargained, sopping wet as he stood before you with his arms crossed over his chest.

“My chair, my rules!” You cried, hooking your legs around the legs of the chair. He chuckled to himself, leaning down and snaking his arms around your midsection.

With ease, he lifted you from your spot, the chair lifting with you. You held on for as long as you could, but eventually had to loosen your grip. It clattered back against the concrete and Jake let out a sigh of relief. He hooked an arm below your knees to hold you bridal-style as he sat back down, placing you on top of him. You tried to scramble away, but he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you back on him as you shrieked with laughter. Now just as damp as he was, you knew the fight was a fruitless endeavor. You relaxed against him, your skin littered with goosebumps from the chill of the night.

“What was that about your chair?” Jake asked, the vibration of his chest ringing against your back as you leaned against him. His chin was resting on your shoulder, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

“Shut up, Kiszka.” You muttered, mumbling a thanks to Josh as he handed you the coin. The alcohol and laughter did wonders at easing the tension between you and Jake, and you were barely thinking about the pool incident any more. Even as you sat atop of him, closer than usual, things felt normal, and it felt good to know that the situation did not change anything between you.

You tossed the quarter, and it landed on the corner of the box, right atop a little blank space in the corner. You leaned back, turning your head towards Jake so you could whisper something in his ear. He leaned forward, catching on to your intent as he waited to hear what you have to offer.

“I’m thinking skinny dipping?” You whispered, your nose brushing against his cheek as he turned to look at you. At first, he was surprised at your words, his eyes wide and his mind running at a mile a minute, but he looked to the box and quickly realized what you meant. Before he made his misinterpretation too obvious, he gave a nod.

“Good one.” He hummed. You leaned toward, grabbing the marker and writing the words down before encasing it in a circle.

“Ah, so that’s how we’re playing this tonight.” Josh announced, an evil grin taking over his face. At the sound of his words, your stomach plummeted, realizing what you had opened the door to in your moment of mindlessness. “Sounds good to me!”

“What does that mean?!” You whispered to Jake, nervous about what the future held.

“I wouldn’t worry, trouble. It’s just Josh.” He assured you. He had his hand on your hip, holding you close as he reassured you, and it felt good. Almost too good as you tried to bargain with yourself not to cross any boundaries.

The circle went around a few more times, and the night began to take over. The stars glimmered in the black sky and the moonlight casted a white light over the group. You were all long last tipsy, and growing more intense as the game progressed. Roman and Josh had been whispering amongst themselves for the past few turns, clearly planning something grand. Roman carefully aimed when his turn came around, making sure he landed on one of the few empty spaces left.

“Couples kiss.” He said, smiling as Josh reached for the coin. He took his time, and landed on another empty space.

“Singles kiss.” He announced, writing the words much larger than necessary. Your stomach twisted with unease as Josh sat back in his original position, turning his head towards you as he slid the quarter across the table. You gave him a scowl as you reached for it, knowing exactly what he was playing at. Carefully, in hopes of avoiding the biggest circle on the board, you threw the coin. It slid as it landed, making your heart speed, but stopped on Jake’s name.

“Hey,” he complained, a frown on his lips.

“Drink up, buttercup.” You smiled, still too on edge to be relieved. You knew that nobody else would take that much caution in avoiding the space, which made it all the more frustrating for you. Josh had you in stalemate, and he wasn’t backing down until he finished the whole thing.

The circle went around, and with every coin toss, you felt yourself relax into Jake a little bit more. So far, you were in the clear, and you worries began to ease. Perhaps you were a little too comfortable in your assumptions, because when Roman took his turn, his quarter landed suspiciously close to the new rule Josh had added moments before. When Josh took his turn, he was carefully positioned and calculated. As his quarter landed on the board, he tried to keep the frown from forming.

“Couples kiss!” He announced, forcing a fake smile. With that, Josh and Sam both turned to their partners, keeping it sweet and simple. Your turn gave the girls a round of drinks, and as you handed the quarter to Jake, you prayed he would have the same caution as you did. Of course, you couldn’t expect anything from Jake when he was drunk, and as soon as the coin was in his hand, he tossed it without a second thought.

You watched in horror as the coin landed on its side and began an agonizing roll towards the exact spot you wanted to avoid. As if the world was in slow motion, you felt like you could feel every second pass as the coin hit a divot in the box, halting its rapid roll and wobbling in its path. Eventually, it pathetically dropped to its side, and your blood went cold. Below it, the word kiss was covered by the shiny silver, and the only word visible in the circle that surrounded it was the word ‘singles’.

Through his own carelessness, Jake had sealed his own fate, and you knew Josh would never let it go, at least not without a good fight.

what do you guys think will happen in part two ☺️ I can’t wait to hear your thoughts 🤍