#part of me is wondering if this is too good to be true

[neiptune]

like real people do

cw: 2.8k wc, female reader, friends to lovers, literally black cat x labrador dynamic, you showed up one day and are still part of his life, it’s an axiom he would never expect to change. until one day you meet his brother for the first time and rin shits himself

“We should hang out tomorrow. Are you free?”.

“No”.

You frown.

“Would you have said yes, if you were?”.

Rin takes a moment to reply.

“Probably not”.

The grin you offer right away doesn’t surprise him, if anything it makes him roll his eyes with fake exasperation.

“I love how you never change”.

He nudges your shoulder with his arm, hands buried in the pockets of an expensive coat.

“You’re annoying”.

“I know, it’s my whole thing. You kinda agreed to it when you accepted me as a friend”.

“I never did such thing. You showed up one day and never left”.

Your giggle echoes across the empty street and Rin finds himself basking in your usual affection, something he’s well aware he hardly deserves.

It’s true, though. One day, back in high school, you were assigned to the same group project with two other classmates and that’s when the information of being in the same class in the first place was presented to him. You talked too much and smiled too often but when it came to doing actual work, you turned into a weirdly serious, responsible student. Instantly, too. Which would’ve been an interesting aspect of your personality, if he so much as cared.

You both ended up being the only two putting in real work to finish the project but the only thing Rin could think of was that he was relieved his perfect grades could stay perfect despite the dead weight. Except, you didn’t leave him alone ever since, apparently happy (always way too happy) to have found a new friend. He doesn’t remember how many times, throughout his high school years, he had to repeat that you two were not friends. Over and over again, the deterrent had failed miserably.

Rin has kinda made peace with your presence in his life by now, despite adulthood and your careers playing a significant role in keeping you apart, whenever he visits his hometown you’re there and whenever you happen to be where he is, you insist on seeing him. Stubborn as he’s always been, in his own mind Rin stands his ground that there’s nothing tragically wrong in allowing you to consider him your friend, still. There’s also nothing particularly dramatic in letting himself indulge in someone else’s obstinate fondness.

You’re a good person, he knows that much. Patient, generous, always the first to offer help and the last to ask for anything. You’re stupid. And gullible. Way too easy to take advantage of. It’s why he, to this day, still keeps an eye on you, walks you home in the middle of the night, doesn’t shut the door like he’d do with anyone else when you show up uninvited to his house. Sometimes he brings you something too, little mementos from his travels that hold no real meaning, despite the way your eyes shine with wonder when he begrudgingly hands them to you.

Rin knows you like him. Or at least you used to, so many years ago. He remembers hearing you confessing the secret to one of your closest friends. You never really told him, a good person but still too proud to give him the satisfaction of rejecting you, stood by his side when no one else would put up with his pissy attitude, always disregarding your feelings. Even when he had girlfriends you were there, feigning nonchalance. Stupid. He remembers how he immaturely tried to get you to admit it, shared petty details of his dates, told you he thought he was falling in love with other girls. Your smile barely faltered.

Why did you do that to yourself all that time, he still wonders. But then again he’d have to ask himself why his impatience, or rather lack of understanding, led him to kiss you when you were both visiting your families for the holidays, back from college.

Rin remembers the snow, the umbrella you were holding trying to clumsily cover him too. He remembers you were babbling some nonsense about how proud you were of him, of his career, the way you always knew he was destined to great things, his blue lock jersey still stored safely in the back of your closet. Rin remembers the way he took your face in his hands and pressed his lips to yours, dry and chapped from the cold. Was that truly the only way to get you to shut up? He doesn’t know. He just knows he didn’t expect you to take a step back, thank him for walking you home. The kiss was never mentioned again, the following day you acted like it never happened and he was glad he could carry on without the burden of weird expectations. Well, almost completely glad.

He didn’t kiss you because he liked you or desired something as unnecessary as a relationship, he’s sure of that. He just wanted to, in that moment. A stupid whim. And if the urge of shutting you up in the softest way has possessed him multiple times after that day and throughout the years, out of mere curiosity or simple convenience, he’s never really admitted it to himself. 

You showed up one day, never left, are still part of his life. It’s an axiom he’d never expect to change. Perhaps he finds some comfort in it.

“You really can’t hang out tomorrow? ”, you’re doing that thing you always do when you’re disappointed, furrowed brows over big eyes that are rapidly losing their usual glow as you blink a few times. He sighs.

“I really can’t”.

“How long are you in town for?”.

“A few days”, he pauses for a second, then decides to concede, “we’ll have plenty of time”.

The way your lips immediately curl into a sweet smile almost makes him crack one too. Rin also loves how you never change.

“Oooh, you wanna hang out with me so bad!”.

“Shut up”.

“We’ll have plenty of time! Because I’m your best friend in the whole, entire world!”.

“Now you’re really pushing it”.

You laugh again, something tender settling over your features. He once more recognizes the affection in your gaze and has to look away.

Rin has hated October 10 for as long as he can remember.

It wasn’t always like that, as a kid it was a special day he got to celebrate his favorite person on. His brother went from being his personal hero and best friend, to a stranger he couldn’t recognize, to an adult he tries to have a decent relationship with, now. Still, October 10 is a hassle. If Sae is in town, something he tries to do for their sake, their parents always insist on having a small birthday celebration at home.

His mother spends hours decorating the living room, orders a cake so big it would require at least ten additional guests, they have so many gifts ready and wrapped by the table. For the past few years, Rin has been getting his brother a gift too. Not exactly a peace offering but the promise of getting there, perhaps.

It infuriates him that Sae still acts perfectly normal around him, never hostile, indifferent at best. They barely talk to each other but Rin doesn’t want to spend his entire life seething, he doesn’t want for one single feeling to define him anymore. So he also accepts the birthday gifts his brother sends him on September 9.

It’s just a day, he mentally repeats, it will be over soon. But he doesn’t expect the doorbell to ring, everything has already been delivered and they didn't invite anyone.

Rin certainly doesn’t expect you, standing on his doorstep with a million dollar smile and clearly hiding something behind your back.

“What are you doing here?”, he’s frozen, in disbelief. You’re not supposed to be there.

“Surprise!”, you grin, “look what I finally found!”.

You’re suddenly holding something so close to his face he has to take a moment to focus to understand what he’s looking at. It’s a horror game, one he’s looked everywhere for because they don’t sell those anymore. Rin only mentioned it once but of course you mentally took note and conducted your own, personal research. It must’ve costed you a fortune. You’re such an idiot.

“It’s not a good time”, he takes a step back, hoping you’ll get the hint and do the same. Your smile falls.

“I know. I just wanted to drop this off. Here”, you hand him the neatly packed gift. Rin takes it, then meets your gaze for a second. He wants to say something, apologize, but you’ve already turned your back to him and are quickly granting his wish of being left alone. He asks himself how much patience you have left, how close you are to abandoning him and his asshole ways for good.

“Who are you?”.

Rin freezes a second time, the voice behind him so close and oddly interested. You stop in your tracks, whip around to look at someone who isn’t him. Something hard flashes across your features but it’s quickly whisked away when you offer one of your usual, polite smiles.

“No one, I was just passing by”.

Something inside Rin cracks. No one? You can hardly ever shut up about being his friend. 

Sae hums.

“You should come in. There’s extra cake”.

When their mom catches sight of you, she also invites you in and there’s really no turning back from that. You’re too well mannered, too acquainted with his family to refuse. So you indulge them.

From the kitchen, he observes something he never thought would (or should) happen. Sae, the most infuriatingly detached, impassive person on the planet, is sitting next to you on the couch, where you’re making polite conversation. He’s listening. Rin knows he’s listening because he keeps his eyes on you, stance relaxed. Who knows what nonsense you’re rambling about this time, unfinished cake in the paper plate balanced on your knees. He says something, you chuckle. Rin focuses on his own unfinished cake, suddenly nauseous.

All these years, this is the one thing he didn’t want to happen, you meeting his brother. It’s petty and childish and Rin isn’t even quite sure why the desire to keep you from him has burned ardently this entire time but the fact that his efforts have vanished in the space of one afternoon brings a strange weariness.

By the time you excuse yourself, his parents are begging you to stay over for dinner. You refuse, thank them, thank Sae the most and wish him the happiest birthday. He dismisses your formality with the vague wave of a hand, says he hopes to meet you again. You smile sweetly.

“There’s no need”.

Rin ignores your objection similarly to how you ignored him the entire afternoon, finishes buttoning up his coat instead. He always walks you home and today will be no exception.

The silence between you two is so uncharacteristic it irritates him, to the point of affliction. Are you that upset with him? Ah, the magic must’ve finally flickered out.

“So, how was it?”, he spitefully pushes, “meeting the legendary brother”.

You keep your gaze on the street.

“It was okay”.

Rin scoffs.

“Just okay? You two really hit it off”.

“He was kind to me”.

“I’m sure he was”.

You finally stop in your tracks to look at him.

“Just because we’re friends it doesn’t mean you get to be an asshole all the time, you know”.

Rin stops too, lips parted, breath condensating into a tiny cloud by his mouth. The serious look you’re fixing him with makes his shoulders slump ever so slightly.

“I’m sorry”, he murmurs. Your gaze softens and he hates it, how easy it is for you to cut him some slack.

“Can you tell me what’s really wrong, Rin?”.

He feels like throwing up.

“Nothing is wrong”.

You hum, pensive, take the time to kick a tiny rock with the tip of your boot.

“I really think you should give yourself some grace. You deserve some peace”.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”.

“It means you’re so focused on protecting yourself from imaginary threats, you can’t see”.

“See what?”.

You offer a sad smile.

“How bright you shine”.

Rin is so taken aback he doesn’t know what to say, surprise paralyzing his entire body. He hasn’t felt like this in a while, perhaps years. It’s not fair that you have access to such a vulnerable side of him, it’s not fair that he can suddenly sense a weird lump in his throat.

“I don’t shine-”, he spits the word out, disgusted.

You’re usually very careful about his boundaries, whether they’re a hoax or not. But this time? You do something you’ve never done before, roughly take his face in your cold hands to make sure he keeps his gaze on you instead of avoiding it like a coward.

“You shine, Rin. I’m so tired of you being the only one refusing to see it. You’re the most resilient, talented, hardworking person I know. You did good. But the challenge is over, there is no war anymore, you don’t have to persist in this stubborn seclusion”, your eyes are suddenly wet, tears precariously collecting in your lash line, “you get to rest, now. Please, be proud of yourself and rest. There’s nothing to be on your guard against”.

He doesn’t remember his heart ever squeezing as painfully in his chest before, the urge to take your face in his hands making the pads of his fingers itch. He doesn’t remember the last time he came so close to let a few tears fall.

He’s gonna take you too. Just like he takes everything from me.

The thought takes his breath away for a moment. He feels your thumb gently stroke his cheek.

“You’re the legendary brother to me, anyway”, you smile, then sniffle.

Has he split himself wide open for you or are you simply that good at reading him? Rin can feel his hands shake when they fist the fabric of your plush jacket.

“Why are you telling me this?”, he can barely recognize the desperation vibrating in his own voice, “why do you even put up with me?”.

You blink a few times, astonished. Then smile again, warm and bright like the sun. Oh, he doesn’t shine, you do.

“Because I love you, obviously”.

And Rin doesn’t have to ask, doesn’t have to wonder what you mean. He knows. He’s known all this time.

“Why did you never tell me?”.

“Because you wouldn’t have let me do it in peace”, you chuckle, “you don’t like me like that so you wouldn’t have let me love you. As if I needed something in return. As if loving you as a friend couldn’t possibly be enough, anyway”.

His fingers are hurting from how tightly he’s still fisting the fabric of your jacket. It feels like his insides are exploding with a million different emotions and he doesn’t have nearly enough time to interpret them. But does he really need that, after all? Time. He’s known you for so long. 

“Stop putting up a fight, silly”, you let go of his face but flick his forehead, to which he grimaces, surprised, “let me love you. I’m your best friend in the whole, entire world after all! Who cares about your stupid brother? No wait, that came out mean, I just meant I care more about you than-”

Rin’s sudden embrace is suffocating, you’re pressed against him so tightly you genuinely struggle taking a single breath. You don’t remember him ever hugging you, the most noteworthy intentional contact you can recall is his arm around your shoulders when you insisted on taking a cute selfie, once. Every other hug, you had always initiated. His arms were always loose around you, cautious, despite his forehead often resting on your shoulder.

His clothes smell nice. He smells nice. You close your eyes, bask in a warmth so strange yet familiar. You don’t think you’ll ever love someone the way you love him.

“You’re so stupid”, Rin murmurs against your neck. With a smile, you nuzzle your face further into his chest.

“So I’ve been told”.

He thinks his heart might be seconds away from slamming itself free from his ribcage.

“Can you tell me again?”.

“What, that I don’t care about your brother? Sure, fuck Itoshi Sae. Oh no, that was also way too mean, don’t tell him I said-”

Rin pulls away abruptly, hands kept on your shoulders to keep you there or maybe to steady himself. You shut your mouth, don’t comment damp cheeks dusted with pink. It may be the most vulnerable you’ve ever seen him.

“Not that, you idiot”, his pitch is gentle, with a hint of amusement. One of his hands cradles your cheek, thumb gently skimming over your lips.

“I love you”, it comes out less bold now, timid. Something melts in his chest all the same.

“Will you pretend it never happened, if I kiss you now?”.

Your exhale is shaky.

“No”.

All these years and this is the first time you’re seeing Itoshi Rin truly, openly smile. The sight does something funny to your stomach.

“Good”.

[gothamhappiness]

I love you, my crime lord! (Red Hood x f!reader)

Hi everyone, this the last part of a little series that I ended writing for Red Hood! (If you've got some ideas for this, you can still request them though)

You can read the other parts here:

Don't touch Red Hood, Batman!

I like to flirt with you, Red Hood!

You're my guardian angel, Red Hood!

Hope you'll enjoy: <3

Warnings: no proof reading, overprotective and dark!Red Hood, strong language, reader is taken hostage

The more time you spent with Red Hood and the more you enjoyed him. 

The more time the man spent with you and the more obvious he was falling in love with you, and pretty hard. You were the kind of person he needed in his life: you loved him no matter what and yet you didn’t have time for his bullshit. You were perfect.

But at some point, your relationship couldn’t really progress into something more intimate if he kept his identity a secret. Red Hood needed you to love him even when he wasn’t Red Hood. And you didn’t want to be his girlfriend only when he was a crime lord.

Jason had been a little bit worried; he wasn't too certain you were going to love him even in daily life, but he quickly got reassured by the way you greeted him home and the way you acted around him. You became a true anchor in his existence and you quickly became the most protected woman of Gotham. His most trusted spy always had a look on you, just to make sure you were safe and sound.

He also warned the Batfamily and every villains of Gotham to stay the fuck away from you. 

You had no idea about it until you got caught up during a hostage at the bank of Gotham. You were terrified, especially because you knew that your boyfriend wasn’t in town that very day. And even if he probably instructed his men to protect you, you weren’t too sure what they could do when a man was pressing a gun against your temple so the police wouldn’t shoot him and his team.

“Look pretty girl, you might not survive today. Hope you told your boyfriend you loved him one last time” the man cruelly whispered to you

“You’re a dead man if you kill me, you know” you said, not really certain it would make a difference, but in your position it couldn’t hurt to try to convince the man to let you go

“Ah yes and why that, your boyfriend is a hitman?” the man chuckled, not believing you

“He’s Red Hood”

At the instant you said that name, the man removed the gun from your head and turned you around to look into your eyes, making sure you weren’t lying to him. He was deeply frowning out of fear.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck” he whispered before looking around for his teammates “We need to let this one go very quickly, she’s Red Hood’s girlfriend” he cried out and all them instantly panicked and hushered you out of the bank, leaving you wondering what the fuck just happened.

Cops quickly rushed to you to know what was going on but before you could answer, a black SUV arrived and you were pulled inside. Jason’s goons were fretting around you to make sure you didn’t get hurt. And they all were really relieved you just seemed stunned.

When you asked where you were going, they answered you were joining Red Hood as if it was the most logical thing in the world. Their boss was already aware of the situation and he wanted you by his side, where you were the safest.

When you arrived in what seemed to be an abandoned nightclub, Red Hood was addressing his troops and giving orders. He asked everyone out when he saw you. Your were his top priority, no matter what the situation was.

“All good?” he asked, his hands wandering your body, and you nodded

“They got scared when I said I was your girlfriend” you finally said

“They better be scared. They should even thank you for telling them who you were to me” Jason said as he guided you to a couch nearby so you could relax. “Gotham is a dangerous place, but it’ll always be a safe haven for you or I’ll burn everything to the ground”

“Come on Jay” you nervously giggled

“No one touch my Queen and they all know it. Isn’t it a simple rule to follow?” Red Hood wondered before sitting down on the couch with you.

He removed his mask so his lips could find yours. You straddled him before leaning against his chest. His arms settled around you. You broke the kiss before looking up at him.

“I love you, my crime lord.” you whispered

“I love you too, my lady” he fondly smiled at you

“But please don’t burn Gotham to the ground?” you hummed

“We’ll see about it” he darkly promised and you didn't know if you should be worried or very horny about it.

Probably both.

--

Taglist for all my work <3

@blublock404

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@silverklaus

@couldeatthatgirlforlunch

@tatsuri-zomushiki

@navs-bhat

@randomnamedmira

@winterhi09

@murkyponds

@qardasngan

Taglist for this series <3

@stormz369

[bwat5-blog]

A Sister's Love: Jinx & Vi

**Spoilers For Arcane**

A while back I had a short but pleasant discussion with someone on one of their posts about Jinx's treatment of Vi, and how it can feel like Jinx doesn't seem to care about Vi in many instances. In hopes of further discussion, I posted in the community where many of you wonderful folks shared your thoughts on the subject and I got a lot of really good insight into this as well. I was thinking about that this morning and it got me thinking about Jinx in general, and more specifically the times when even if it's not as clear, her love for Vi shines through.

I've said this many times but it bears repeating. I am aware that I have been quite harsh on Jinx. The unfortunate reason for most of that is that a significant amount of Jinx fans have an obsession with comparing her to Caitlyn or Vi that borders on the fanatical. But my issue has never been, and will never be with the character herself. I think she is absolutely amazing as a character and loved watching her story unfold.

*I do this every-time but I think it's important. Especially because some of you have shared with me that your own mental health is what has made you connect with Jinx so strongly. I understand and recognize that her mental health plays an immensely important role in her character's journey. I am in no way, shape or form a qualified mental healthcare professional. So any disrespect or lack of sensitivity is not my intention*

Jinx & Vi:

The journey of these sisters is heartbreaking and inspiring in equal measure. It is many people's favorite part of the story and for good reason. They are so close when the show begins and ripped apart by the darkness in their world. Only to fight their way back to one another through love and sacrifice.

But their story is not without conflict. In fact at their lowest point they almost kill one another. There is much that can be said about Vi's love for Jinx, the times she fails her, and those important moments, but I want to focus on Jinx right now.

I don’t have exact quotes on hand, but someone in the community made an excellent point during our discussion. Even when Vi and Jinx are at odds, and Jinx’s hallucinations try to convince her that Vi no longer loves her—that she’s been replaced by Caitlyn—Jinx fights back. She defends who she knows her sister to be, even if she can’t always silence those voices. It’s only pain, fear, or manipulation that pushes her too far, making her lose her grip on what she knows to be true.

During the horrifying sequence when Jinx is being saved by Singed, she hallucinates. And who does she hallucinate in that terrifying moment when she is in terrible pain and in such need of comfort? Vi. Even though she just tried to kill Vi on that bridge. The vision is only corrupted when Caitlyn appears, which all stems from Silco and Sevika feeding Jinx's paranoia.

Okay. I know what some of you are thinking seeing me post ANYTHING about the dinner party on a Jinx positive post. Hear me out. There is no question that Jinx does ALL sorts of fucked up shit here. But we are talking about her love for Vi. What does she want here? She wants things to be like they used to be. She wants her sister. She is in such a dark and twisted state that she cannot see how terrible her actions are, but at her core, she wants her older sister to love her like she used to. She doesn't hurt Vi (I mean aside from the bonk). Additionally, and again- I AM NOT SAYING SHE DIDN"T DO TERRIBLE THINGS HERE- Even with all she did to Caitlyn, she knows Vi cares for Caitlyn, she views Caitlyn as the one who was taking Vi from her, and yet she doesn't kill Caitlyn and she easily could have. This is not about justifying anything she does. It's about looking for what lies beneath the darkness in her to see the person she has the potential to be again.

Here at their lowest moment, when Vi and Jinx have almost killed each-other, and Jinx is glad Vi is the one who is going to finish her, Jinx screams "NO!" when Isha does this. She doesn't want Vi to die.

Vi is at her worst during her pitfighter arc. I'm not going super in-depth on this because this post is about Jinx but Vi is in a self-destructive spiral and totally alone. It's quite clear in one moment that Jinx is there in the crowd but if you slow down the whole sequence you actually see her there a few times. This was primarily what I was discussing with some other people and I believe Jinx was watching over Vi in the best way she could process. I'm sure there was some degree of pleasure in seeing Vi cast out by Caitlyn at first, but with all other signs pointing to Jinx caring for Vi I don't think Jinx was here laughing at her sisters pain. More trying to be there and watch over Vi but with no idea how to approach her with all that happened.

*I fully recognize there is a degree of speculation on my part for this point but I think it's reasonable, feel free to let me know if you disagree!*

With everything that has happened between them, the fact that Jinx comes to collect Vi when she finds out about Vander speaks volumes. There is still much to be worked out between them but she wants their family to together again including Vi. And although I couldn't find the GIF for it, when jinx is in the dark with her lighter after Vi and Vander fight is such a heart wrenching moment. She is clearly so afraid that she has caused the death of her sister, her dad, or both. She cares so much for those that she has left.

Jinx and Caitlyn's history is the furthest thing from simple. But in this moment, Caitlyn cast Vi out, hit her, became the commander and placed Zaun under martial law all because she wanted Jinx (this is not a who is right and who is wrong I'm just making a point), Jinx would HATE Caitlyn. But she knows what she means to Vi. And she just saw Caitlyn save Vander. Jinx easily could have let Rictus finish Caitlyn then jumped in if it was just about saving Vander but she still jumps headfirst into the fight.

In the aftermath of Isha and Vander's death, Jinx could easily have escaped Caitlyn. But Caitlyn tells Vi that all Jinx wanted was to make sure Vi was safe after Vi sacrificed herself to protect her.

Jinx's mindset in this moment is a complicated topic. But I want to focus her feelings about Vi. Vi has come and broken her out of jail, risked everything for her again. And Jinx realizes Vi will never give up on her. Even at great cost to herself. So Jinx punches her and leaves her, and almost begs her to start living for herself. Because she knows Vi cannot give herself that permission. She wants Vi to choose her own life, and to choose love.

Free and clear, obviously Jinx was going to do something horrible but thankfully Ekko talked her down. Even still, she could have done anything. But what does she choose to do? She chooses to ride to war with her people, honoring Vi's faith in her.

And of course, the absolutely devastating final sacrifice (I know she's alive but you get it) of Jinx saving Vi's life when the pain and grief finally overwhelm the fearsome brawler. I have mentioned it many times, but Jinx's core belief is that everyone who gets close to her dies. She thinks she is a curse on all who love her. But in her last action, she saves the life of the older sister she knows will always love her, and who never gave up on her.

I have touched on most of this before but it was just on my mind this morning. I hope I didn't bore anyone. I know there are LOTS of strong feelings about Jinx and like I have said over and over nothing here is about justifying the wrong she did. It's just about looking at those moments that showed her true colors even when she herself couldn't see them. Hope you enjoyed, take care!

[tangerineastronaut]

Hi! I saw you take requests.

May I request something with GOT7 Jackson Wang and best friend!reader, in which the reader starts developing feelings for him and start thinking he’s the one for her? <3

Friends, Just for Now | Jackson Wang (Part 1)

The one where your best friend can't keep his secret anymore (and you're oblivious).

Pairing: Jackson Wang (GOT7) x Fem!Reader Genre: Fluff, BestFriend!Reader, idiots to lovers Requested: Yes w.c. 6.6k (oops) Warnings: Cheating (not between jackson and reader), lots of profanity, nicknames, namecalling, minor injury, reader wouldn't know love if it smacked her in the head, holy shit they're kind of annoying af A/N: this was so fun to write, love me a good idiots friends to lovers. I'm also cheesy af, feel free to call me out. Please excuse any errors there may be, I usually proofread after posting. ❣️The love I received on my yunho imagine has literally made me do happy dances, I haven't posted anything on tumblr in 8 years and you guys are just literally the best. I love you all so much! Requests: Open (link below)

Part 2 is on its way!

Requests | WIPs Masterlists: BTS | ATEEZ | GOT7 | Stray Kids

🎧 FRI(END)S by V

“Come on, pie, I told you this was gonna happen. You never listen.”

Two things went through your mind, though you refused to lift your head from where it was tucked against your knees. 

One, you hated that nickname. Pie. He thought it was so cute, and it probably would’ve died off had you not reacted to it the way you did. One missed smear of cherry on your nose 3 years ago and suddenly you’ve been christened. It was his favorite story to tell. 

And two, Jackson Wang was going to get his shit rocked if he didn’t leave you alone. 

“Fuck off,” you say bitterly, pulling further into yourself.

He was right. He had warned you.

You’d hoped Leejin was different, that the rumors were just exaggerated. Surely he didn’t cheat on every girlfriend…right?

“Wrong,” Jackson had laughed. “He’s a fucking dog, y/n.”

You’d rolled your eyes, and then Jackson said three words to you that had kind of hurt. Not kind of. A lot. They’d hurt a lot. 

“You’re not special.”

Leejin was so nice, he was smart and funny and headed for a successful career with his family’s business (so what if his parents probably paid off the school to make sure those student conduct violations never stuck). You wanted to be special. Spent 4 months trying to be. It wasn't an eternity, but you tended to put your whole heart into everything, and it almost always ended up like this.

But Jackson’s words rang true, painfully so, when you received a text from an unknown number earlier today—screenshots of messages between Leejin and some girl, including explicit photos. The unnamed person had said nothing else; you wondered if it was the girl from the screenshots, but you didn’t reply. You simply texted Leejin to go fuck himself before blocking him on everything, running straight home to your apartment, praying that Jackson wasn’t there. He was, of course, as you split the rent. You hated the look on his face when you barged in, nose red and snotty from crying.

It wasn’t smug, it was just…"come on, pie, I told you this was gonna happen." 

You heard him sigh now, no doubt running a hand through his hair. It was blonde; you’d made fun of him at the time he'd dyed it though begrudgingly had to admit it suited him. But he was going to be bald before he was 40 if he didn’t stop tugging at it when he was stressed.

“Hey. Hey, stop. I hate it when you cry, you know, makes my joints hurt or something,” he says, kneeling beside you.

The fuck…? What does that even—

But you were too upset to stop, so he muttered under his breath, poking at your head until you whipped it up to slap him away. He looked like such a boy, hugging his knees and giving you a pleading look. Fine. Bastard.

You sighed and uncurled yourself, your knees screaming from the pain of turning into a human rollie pollie for the last half hour. Jackson sighed as well, no doubt relieved that you weren’t ugly crying anymore. 

He waited until your sniffles were a few minutes apart before moving, sitting criss cross on the floor. His brown eyes were soft, a rarity, truly, though you knew he was already formulating ways to tease you about this when it was more irritating than painful. 

“Done?” he asks, more to comfort himself than you. You sniff and nod, wiping your nose on your sleeve. Well, his sleeve. He made a face, realizing that you were wearing one of his sweatshirts, but made the apparent decision to yell at you later. 

“Don’t be mean to me,” you mumble, resting your cheek on your knee. 

“When am I ever?”

“Jackson, I swear to fucking—”

“I didn’t say anything, pie.”

“If you don’t drop that god damned nickname, it was one time, one little bit of cherry filling, I don’t even like cherry pie, you’re so fucking annoying—”

It was his turn to interrupt, but he didn’t. He just watched you, an irritating twinkle of amusement in his eyes. You scoffed and tucked your face away again, wishing he’d stop looking at you like that. Or at all, really. If there was one thing you’d learned after being friends with him for so long…the asshat had some eyes on him. Had this way of using his gaze to set the mood, able to stop your arguments or rile you up with micro expressions like an olympic gold medalist of manipulation. 

“Want some ramen?” he asks, tilting his head as though speaking to a kicked dog. You crinkle your nose without looking at him. “Want some cake? Some candy?”

“I want you to leave me alone,” you grumble. 

“Want a bath?”

You sigh, refusing to humor him with an answer he already had. He snapped his fingers like he’d just solved the equation of the century, having the audacity to ruffle your hair as he stepped over you unnecessarily to get to the door. You could hear him down the hall, the sound of the bathroom cabinets opening and closing, the water running, hopefully set on hot like you liked. 

“You're out of bath bombs,” he called. You frown. 

“I’m not, they’re under the sink.”

“Why’d you move them? Next to your menstrual equipment, eww.”

That’s why. You felt sorry for whatever unfortunate woman Jackson decided to wife up—the man was addicted to hot baths and cotton candy bath bombs. You’d have to move them again though, now that he knew about your stash. Besides, you’d sent him to the shop more than a few times when you were cramping and out of pads (and chocolate); he would not be impeded by them.

Jackson was waiting for you by the time you dragged yourself to the small shared bathroom. He bowed dramatically, gesturing toward the tub which was steaming hot, as you liked—a meal’s gotta cook. 

You mumble a thank you as he walks past, though he pauses in the doorway, eyes narrowed.

“Get naked, and give me my damn sweatshirt,” he says, pointing accusingly at you. You pout, immediately clutching your pearls.

“Is that why you never get laid? Jesus, would’ve thought you were smoother than that,” you huff. He impatiently tugs at your sleeve, rolling his eyes in that sassy way that always made you giggle and made him more irritated—a win win scenario. 

“It’s a $30 shirt, not a snot rag…pie.”

“You’re a snot rag,” you mumble. You turn your back to him, crossing your arms at the hem and tugging it over your head. You were still in a bra thankfully, though still covered your chest as you tossed the material at him. 

Jackson caught it smoothly, though he wasn’t even looking at the sweatshirt. You didn’t realize he was looking at you until you reached for the button of your jeans. His eyes weren’t lower than your lips, but he looked a little…off. You expected a joke about a food baby or maybe how pale you’ve gotten, but he says nothing. 

“Hello?” you say, shaking your head. “Is that all? Want my pants too? Gonna do my laundry for a change?”

Jackson blinks like his brain finally returned to his skull. He bit the inside of his cheek, shaking his head and backing out of the doorway. Before he closed the door, however, his eyes leveled with yours, so intense it made your breath catch in your throat. Was he mad? Over a sweatshirt?

“Leejin is a fucking idiot,” he says before turning on his heel and heading down the hall. 

You stare at the spot where he stood, even after he’s gone. The hell was his problem now?

By the time you’ve finished your glorious bath, you waltz into the living room like a princess. Jackson looks up from his place on the sofa, deadpanning and tossing his phone on the coffee table as he takes in the freshly purloined hoodie you're sporting.

“Gonna lock my closet,” he says, shaking his head. You beam at him, cutely crinkling your nose as you pad to the kitchen. You tug open the fridge, thinking maybe you could cook something simple for the two of you. It was kind of late to make anything grand, but you wanted more than ramen. 

The empty shelves make your eye twitch. 

“Seriously?” you huff, gesturing around. “Would it kill you to get groceries once?”

“You always complain when I do,” Jackson shrugs, flicking through netflix with the remote. “Got the wrong brand, got too many, didn’t get enough—”

“I always text you a detailed list, but whatever,” you grumble, low enough that it doesn’t provoke a response. “Since you’re a big man baby incapable of buying groceries, you can buy us something at the convenience store.”

“I am perfectly capable, thank you,” Jackson says, narrowing his eyes. 

“Of what? Weaponized incompetence? I agree, get dressed,” you hum. 

Ten minutes later, you’re walking side by side down to the convenience store. The apartment’s location was perfect—five minutes from campus one way, five to a 24 hour convenience store another. Perfect because you both had a habit of wanting to come home when you were drunk after a party, starved and craving foods that you’d regret the next day. 

The doors chimed a welcome as they slid open, allowing you inside. You made a beeline for the sweets, Jackson went straight for the energy drinks. 

You perused the aisle for a few minutes, making your choice and going to find your roommate. You rounded the corner and froze. 

Unfortunately, it wasn’t possible to block someone in real life. So while you’d never see Leejin’s social media posts, it didn’t mean that you wouldn’t run into him on a saturday night at the convenience store near your apartment. 

You feel a mix of emotions—anger, shame, disbelief among them. You knew it wasn’t impossible, it wasn’t even unlikely, as this store was one of only a few. But it felt so damn unfair that he’d happen to be here, hours after you found out about what he’d done. 

“Is that all you’re getting?” Jackson snorts, frowning as he eyes your bag of chips. But he notices your stillness, following your gaze to see Leejin, casually chatting on the phone as he looks at the protein bars.

You expect him to snort, maybe make a comment just loud enough for the other to hear before pulling you away, but Jackson surges forward so quickly he nearly knocks you over. You grab his arm, both to steady him and stop him from…whatever the hell he’s doing. 

“Where are you going?” you whisper, tugging him back with as much strength as you could muster. 

“He broke your heart and I’m gonna break his fucking face.”

He moves again, this time dragging you along on the linoleum floor. Fortunately, Leejin is too preoccupied with his call to notice. The thought makes your stomach twist, briefly wondering who he’s talking to. 

“You’re gonna get us kicked out, what’s the matter with you?” you hiss, trying to shake sense into him. Jackson yanks his arm away from you, dropping the energy drinks on the nearest shelf before storming off. You stare after him, mouth agape in disbelief. 

You arrive home 15 minutes later, having hid near the bathrooms until Leejin had left. You’d bought (and paid for, irritatingly) your snacks and Jackson’s drinks, but when you shove into the apartment, it’s empty. Lights off, no sign of him. You worry for a few seconds—had he waited for you and bumped into Leejin instead? But you surely would’ve heard something outside. You opt to text him and choose to believe he’s being broody and walking through the streets like a sad music video.

> what the fuck? is your deal? Where are you??

You’re confused and groggy when someone taps at your cheek, not realizing you’d even fallen asleep on the couch. You rub at your eyes, squinting, processing the sight of Jackson standing over you, t-shirt stuck to his form, beads of sweat rolling down his cheeks. 

You’ve had weird dreams about him before, ones that you’d rather never speak of again, and they usually start out like this. But this Jackson rolls his eyes in a way that sweet, sweet dream Jackson would never. 

“Get up, jesus. Your back is going to hurt,” he says. You slowly sit up, realizing he’s right. Apparently not only had you fallen asleep on the couch,  but you’d fallen asleep sitting up, sleeping in an unnatural slouched position. 

“Ow…”

“Told you.”

“No it’s…hey,” you snap, waking up a bit more now that you  remember that you’re actually pissed at him. “It’s your fucking fault, what happened to you? You just disappeared! I was worried!” 

You’re surprised to see Jackson bristle. He’s not shaken easily, least of all by you, but he glances to the side and tugs at his t-shirt, separating it from his damp skin. 

“Went to the gym. Figured I should cool off,” he says. You want to be pissed at him more, say something else, but your back hurts and you’re sleepy. Plus, you’re glad to see he’s alright. Mostly.

“Whatever,” you finally grumble, trying to stretch out your neck. “What time is it?”

“Dunno, around 2 a.m.,” he replies casually. “I’m gonna shower.”

“Great,” you huff. “You go shower. I’ll go roll over and die happy now that I know you’re alive.”

You stumble down the hall to your room, sighing at the sight of your unmade bed. What was the point if you were going to mess it up anyway? You hear Jackson follow shortly after, the bathroom door opening and closing. The shower starts, and you shuffle beneath the covers. 

You wake up not long after, whining in protest as you’re jostled. 

“It’s me,” Jackson says, rudely pushing you over. “Scoot.”

You wanted to shove him away, to point out that “scoot” should be said before you rob someone of their bed, but you can’t be bothered. Besides, once he settles next to you, you realize that he’s not wearing a shirt and he smells nice and clean. 

Sleepy, groggy, annoyed, relieved, you curl against him like a bunny seeking warmth. You feel him stiffen, though you think little of it. 

“What are you doing?” he asks, not sounding the least bit tired. You couldn’t say the same for yourself, unable to open your eyes as you reply. 

“Mm. ‘s warm down here. Night night.”

You hear him sigh, then shuffle, and then he’s rolled over to face you, offering a human-made cocoon that you happily burrow into. He’s soft and warm and smells like his manly body wash—and your shampoo, damn it. 

“Goodnight, y/n,” he says, soft enough to count but not enough for you to notice. 

Waking up tangled with Jackson was, unfortunately (?), not all that unusual. When you were upset, you found your way to his bed, and despite his protests you knew he didn't actually mind. It went both ways—you'll die before you admit that you like it, if only because he's a human heater.

You still feel groggy, squinting and fumbling around for your phone. Such a task is difficult when there's deadweight slung over your waist, but you manage, bringing the device to your face.

10:43 a.m.

Oh good. You slept 8 hours—and half the day away, to your brain at least. You toss your phone down, debating whether or not you should just go back to sleep. You choose instead to roll over, addressing the sleeping shirtless man keeping you pinned to your bed.

Your camera roll was filled with photos just like this, because Jackson slept like a baby. Literally. Hands curled into fists, face relaxed, head tilted to the side. His blonde hair is mussed from sleeping with it wet last night, and you dodn't hesitate to run your fingers through it for no reason at all. It was soft and surprisingly thick, but you weren't about to dial back on the baldness theory.

Jackson stirred, though didn't wake up, shifting to lie on his back. Freed from your restraints, you sat up and had to cover your mouth to stifle a laugh.

Of course the curtains parted like that, of course he was sleeping like a prince now, sunlight arcing off of his jaw—it even highlighted his stubble in an annoyingly poetic way. What kind of gods were kind enough to give him of all people that face?

He really was kinda...pretty.

No, not kinda. Jackson Wang was beautiful. You were his best friend, but you weren't blind. Maybe you'd become a little numb to his charms, but you'd seen what he could do to people with just a look, even without malicious intent. He was charismatic on top of that, though you were the only one who got to see the side of him that wasn't.

The side that stole your shampoo and commandeered your bed, anyway.

So fine, you knew he was pretty. But he was kinda sorta extra pretty right now, and maybe you wanted to remember it later.

You shifted to grab your phone—a never-ending quest for material to bully each other over—but the movement apparently jostled him awake. You sheepishly smiled as he blinked a few times, using the heel of his palm to rub the blurriness away.

"Really?" he asked, voice rough, eyes leveling to the phone in your hand. "Fucking creep."

"You have like a thousand pictures of me sleeping," you point out, narrowing your eyes. Jackson nods, rolling over and hugging your waist, his head resting against your hip.

"That I do—you're cute when you drool all over yourself. I'm working on a collage."

"Asshole," you mutter, prying his arms off of you. You make an attempt to escape, but as expected, you're smoothly hauled back down.

"Where you going?"

"I need to pee, wanna come with?"

"It's early."

"It's almost 11."

"Yeah, early."

Jackson grunts before you can reply, practically placing you in a chokehold as he rolls over. You have no choice but to go with him, ending up flopped over his chest like a dead fish.

He says nothing for a moment, and you wonder if he's fallen back asleep. It's not difficult to squirm out of his grasp this time, though rather than allowing you to slide off, the apparently-awake-Jackson moves both hands to your hips.

Your stomach does that funny thing it sometimes does around him, like a little alarm that says 'hey! getting too close!' Listening to this alarm had prevented a lot of mistakes over the course of your friendship, mistakes like wanting to kiss him when you were tipsy, noticing the way he looked after a long workout, hair plastered to his forehead, the fuzziness you felt that time your heating pad broke, and his warm hands wound up on the lower half of your tummy to stave off the cramps.

Mistakes like that.

His eyes open again, and you do your best to look irritated.

"I'm sorry about last night," he says, suddenly unnaturally serious. "I was just trying to cool off, and my phone died, so I didn't see your text until after I got home."

You're not really sure how to respond—it was always strange when conversations got like this between you, regardless of the topic. It was so jarring, so far from the usual cracked out nonsense. You decided to nod, then shake your head, then nod again.

Jackson was a badass, most people knew as much. He was trained in martial arts and practically ate protein for every meal. But despite this, he wasn't typically an aggressive guy. You'd only ever seen him throw one punch—an ex of yours a couple years ago who threatened to post a nude photo of you. Needless to say, the guy deleted them, made difficult thanks to the blood smearing his screen as it dripped from his nose.

"It's fine, I get it," you say. "Just...why were you so mad at him? Did he do something to you?"

Jackson blinks up at you, shifting so that he's partially sitting up on his elbows.

"I told you, y/n," he says, shaking his head like you're an idiot. "He broke your heart, I was gonna break his face. You should've let me get one hit in at least."

"He didn't break my heart," you groan, rolling your eyes. "It wasn't that serious, you know that. We'd only been dating for 4 months."

"...I watched you cry for an hour because someone stepped on a worm—"

"—that's different. It's literally a living little creature, what if that's someone's girlfriend, hm? What if she asked her boyfriend 'would you still love me if I was a worm' and he said yes except now they can't live wormily ever after because she's smushed all because some horrible person can't be bothered to step aside for a worm?"

Jackson stared up at you, blinking slowly, looking 175% done with your shit.

"What the fuck is wormily ever after?"

You sigh, leaning forward until your head is on his bare shoulder. You have half a mind to bite him, though you resist. You will be civil—for now.

"I don't know," you mumble. "No early birds, no hot sidewalks?"

"I....you're so fucking weird."

"Lots of guys are dickheads, but you were ready to knock him out. Really, Jackson, was that all? Promise he didn't say something to you?" you ask, voice muffled against his warm skin. Just one lil munch. It'd be good payback for him scaring the hell out of you last night.

Jackson exhales, and there's suddenly a hand tugging at your tangled mess of bedhead until you're sitting up, looking down at him.

"I wanted to kick his ass for the same reason that I never bring anyone home," he says quietly. His eyes are serious, no sparkle of humor in them, and it makes your stomach twist. You didn't like it when Jackson got serious.

"What? Because of me?" you ask. "I don't care who you fuck as long as I don't have to cook them breakfast."

Mostly true—you were afraid of walking out of your bedroom one morning and running into a really pretty girl, someone with perfect grades and clear skin, who has the audacity to be beautiful and nice. Someone only Jackson deserves. But you leave that bit out and give him a half teasing smile.

Jackson doesn't return it. He grunts, moving his hand up to tug at his hair. You slip yours beneath his, mumbling for him to stop doing that.

"You really don't?" he finally asks, swallowing hard enough that you see his throat move.

"Don't what?"

"You don't care who I fuck?"

His question catches you off guard, though not as much as the fact that he still looks dead serious. This seems like something the two of you should be laughing over—not something to talk about whilst you're currently straddling your best friend in your bed, who happens to be naked from the waist up.

"I mean...no?" you say, shaking your head in confusion. "Should I?"

"I don't know, should you?"

Should you? What the hell was that supposed to mean? You didn't like riddles, and this felt like one. You'd tried to stay out of his business over the four years you've been friends, though come to think of it...you'd never met any of his girlfriends after the first six months. You'd assumed he was so busy with classes and his extracurriculars that there just wasn't much time for anything past shallow hookups.

But...you couldn't remember a single time that had occurred. He was home every night, never brought company over for that purpose.

"Jackson," you say quietly, palms resting on his chest. When the hell did he get so muscular? There was a noticable firmness beneath your fingers, and you briefly considered billing Leejin for your services in making sure he didn't get the shit beat out of him. "I feel like this is an inside joke and I'm out of the loop. You're upset? Why?"

"Why would I be?" he counters, irritatingly smooth. The hands on your hips squeeze once, like he's trying to talk to you in morse code. It's annoying.

"Quit," you mumble, biting your lower lip. "I'm trying. Stop being mean and just tell me."

He sighs, moving a hand to his face.

"If you don't already know, then it doesn't matter, alright?"

"Wh—"

You're cut off as he suddenly shifts from beneath you, leaving you tumbling to the sheets when he stands. Just like the last two times for some damn reason, he prepares to storm out of the room.

"Jackson, wait—shit."

You trip over the edge of your nightstand, catching yourself on your hands. Your lamp tumbles to the floor, thankfully not shattering on the carpet. Still, the ache brings tears to your eyes, and you bite the inside of your cheek as you sit down.

"How many times have I told you to push that against the wall!?" Jackson says, rushing over to you. You lean back against your bed, grimacing as you look at your knee. It's not the worst scrape you've ever gotten, but it is bleeding, and it burns.

"Hang on, pie." He leaves the room, and by the time he returns with the pack of bandaids and peroxide, you're covering your face with one hand and hugging your knee with the other.

"Hey, it's not so bad," he says, obviously in partial panic mode as he kneels in front of you and tugs at your ankle. He probably thought that's why you were in tears, but it was moreso the fact that he was being...just...weird, and you didn't like it.

You quietly sit there, hands over your eyes as he uses a cotton ball to dab at the blood. You don't even flinch, it doesn't burn—perks of having an MMA star for a roommate; he knew how to bandage a cut (a common occurence for your clumsy ass, unfortunately).

After a few minutes, he pats the side of your calf, and you finally uncover your eyes. There's a bandaid over the scrape now, and you let your knee fall to the side. Jackson is looking at you, and you nod.

"That's good, thanks," you mumble quietly.

"You sure?" he asks. You frown, nodding quickly. But his hand moves up to your cheek, cupping it as his thumb swipes below your eye.

Tears.

That alarm goes off inside of you, but Jackson doesn't move his hand, so you let it sit there and you feel your stomach tying itself into a knot. You're a little worried it's not gonna come undone.

"I wasn't crying because of that," you say, swallowing as you glance away shamefully. "I...I don't like this, Jackson. Feels weird. If I did something to make you mad, I wish you'd just tell me—"

"I'm not mad at you," he replies. You sniff, and finally his hand slips away, though only to rest on your uninjured knee. His fingers twitch, like he wants to do something but won't let himself. Slap you, maybe, for never listening to him and always ending up hurt because of it. You would, if you were him.

"You keep running away from me," you point out, a little surge of anger from last night returning. "You keep acting like I'm supposed to know everything you're thinking, and I don't, because you won't tell me stuff. I tell you stuff, the least you could do is text me a grocery list of what the fuck is going on inside of your brain, so I'm not sitting here thinking I'm gonna lose my best friend and roommate over something I don't even know that I've done. I'm sorry we ran into Leejin, it's not like I knew he was gonna be there. I'm sorry for thinking I was special in the first place and ending up where you said I'd be."

Jackson sighs and tilts his head, and you hate yourself for crying more. It wasn't a big deal, things were a little crazy after yesterday. You didn't even love Leejin, it had just...hurt? Your pride? No one wants to know they're less than a second choice. But Jackson had acted like Leejin was out for his blood, and every time he runs away, it feels like he's escaping you.

"You're not gonna lose me," he finally says, glancing down at the floor. "I just...I've got a lot of shit to work through, you know? It's not...it's not your fault though."

"Like what?" you ask, worry lining your brow. "If you'd just—is it money? Because we can figure out rent—"

"It's not money," he interrupts. "I promise, it's nothing like that."

"Then what?" You huff, a little more irritated than concerned. "Parents? Grades? Girl trouble?"

"Yeah," he nods, licking his lips. "That last bit."

"Girl trouble?" you ask, somewhat surprised. For some reason, the fact that he hadn't told you about a girl bothered you more than the idea that there was one at all. You shared everything with him; if he'd kept her a secret, it had to have been a little more serious.

"Do I know her?" you ask tentatively. Please say no, I don't want to go through a list of the hottest girls I know.

"Yeah," he replies. Fuck.

"Oh. How long have you been dating?"

"We're not."

"Then...?"

"She's an idiot."

"It's a mystery as to why you're single, really," you say, rolling your eyes. "So she's an idiot because she won't date you? Sounds kind of shallow on your end."

"She's an idiot because she keeps dating jackasses who don't give a shit about her. I don't give a damn if she ever chooses me or not," he says plainly. You frown.

"Maybe she's insecure?"

"She is. Very."

"Huh. Is she pretty?"

"Beautiful."

"Oh. Hm."

Well what the fuck were you supposed to say to that? Congratulations? Sorrows, sorrows, prayers?

"Okay..." you say after a beat. You were not good with advice, especially when it came to love, obviously. He didn't say love though. Infatuation, maybe. Still, you were not an expert. "So if she keeps dating jackasses and won't date you, why do you bother? Why not just forget about her?"

Jackson's eye twitches. You don't notice.

"Hard to forget someone you see every day, pie," he says. You scoff.

"Okay, I'm calling bullshit. I'm literally the only person you see every day."

"Mhm."

"Then you're lying?" you ask. Jackson deadpans.

"Please, for the love of god, never reproduce."

"Rude," you mutter. "Fine, so I know her, she's insecure, pretty, dates assholes, you allegedly see her everyday?"

"All of the above," he says. You frown, lips pursing as you rack your brain for answers, going through the hot insecure girls you know like a filing cabinet.

Wait.

Your eyes widen. Jackson's do the same, and then he smiles, like he's proud of you.

"Oh my god, is it Kim Sujin?" You ask, covering your mouth. "The girl with the—"

"Jesus fucking christ, y/n," he groans, running a hand through his hair. "Are you...you're fucking with me? That's what this is. You're not this dumb, right? Please say no. I feel like I'm in middle school right now, holy shit."

You open your mouth to argue, to insist he was being unfair (you didn't even like puzzles!) but he suddenly leans forward, palms cupping both of your cheeks. He pulls you toward him, nose inches from yours. You've been this close to him before, but you're suddenly dizzy now, a little out of it as you wonder if this is really happening to you—or if this is another sweaty-jackson-standing-over-me dream. Jackson, who has freckles on the tip of his nose and won't stop looking at you like that, the knot pulling tighter and tighter.

"Stop thinking before you hurt yourself. 'm gonna kiss you now, is that okay?" he asks.

Is that oka—?

"Kiss?" you mumble, swallowed up by those god damn pretty brown eyes. Jackson nods, head tilted, primed to kiss the cluelessness out of you, apparently. "Y-yeah, that's fine."

"It's gonna be...it's gonna be a lot, okay? Like not just a peck. You're fine with that?"

"Yep," you nod.

Jackson nods back. And then he kisses you.

He doesn't release your face, squishing your body between himself and the bed behind you. His lips press to yours, insistent and warm, though you can tell he's being cautious—if you wanted to push him away, you could. But you did not want to do that.

Because Jackson Wang was kissing you, and he's a really good kisser.

You briefly forget that you have hands, so when you remember, you waste no time in using them. One cups his jaw, feeling the edge of it press into your palm. The other fists his blonde hair, tugging it gently.

Jackson groans into your mouth, and that alarm in your belly turns into a fucking war drum. You feel the knot tighten and snap, and suddenly you're pushing him back, scrambling into his lap.

You kind of want more, kind of want to put your tongue in his mouth because he's warm and tastes good and you can only imagine how much better it would be, but he beats you to it. His tongue swipes over your lower lip and you eagerly open for him. He breathes in as soon as you do, and it feels like he's stealing your soul. Fuck it? He can have it?

It's messy, a tad bit desperate, definitely not the poetic kiss of rom coms, but you don't give a shit. It feels good, feels warm and right, like you've been kissing him in your head every day for the past 4 years.

By the time you manage to separate, you're trembling an embarassing amount. You'd blame the buzz on coffee if you'd had any, but you just hide your flushed cheeks and rest your forehead against his shoulder. You can tell that for once, Jackson's brain seems to also have short circuited, as it takes him a minute before he finally wraps his arms around you. You can hear his breath—as shaky as yours, thank god.

"Was that okay? Was it weird? Did I make you uncomfortable?" he asks, tilting back on one palm to look at you, his other arm secured around your waist. You sit up, shamelessly biting your lower lip, refusing to meet his eyes. He mistakes this for discomfort, all but shoving you out of his lap, hands flying to his hair.

"Fuck, I...I shouldn't have...I didn't mean to. I wasn't gonna...I'm so fucking sorry y/n, if you want me to move out—"

"You're gonna go bald," you mumble, a little blitzed out as you rest on your hands.

"Huh?"

"Nevermind. Stop freaking out, okay?" you offer, finally looking up at him. God he looks...scared. Hair messy, brown eyes wide. So unlike his usual cocky self that you're a little shaken, caught between wanting to protect him and wanting to kiss him again.

"I didn't make you uncomfortable, did I?" he asks softly. That alarm is now everywhere, setting off in your chest at his concerned tone. You shake your head.

"No. I'm okay," you reassure him. "A little irritated."

Jackson's head snaps up, worry on his face. You feel guilty, so you quickly clarify.

"You said I'm not special," you say quietly, looking away. "If you were talking about me just now...why did you tell me that?"

He looks confused, like he can't remember (of all the things he's said to bully you—while you kept a detailed record). But he seems to finally recall the conversation, rubbing his forehead as his lips spread into a smile.

"What's funny?" you puff.

"I meant to him, pie. You're not special to him. Not that you weren't special at all, or to...to me," he explains, looking part amused and part shy. You soften a bit, unable to help but pout.

"Then you should say that!" you say, gesturing at nothing. "You can't just go around telling people they aren't special."

"I don't make you feel special?" he asks, dipping his head to meet your eyes.

Well, yes, but that's not the point. You choose not to reply.

Just like most things when it comes to you, however, he already knows the answer. He looks a little too proud of himself as he reaches for your wrist, pulling you back into him. You're not quite in his lap, but you lean heavily against his side, your chin resting against his chest.

"What if we mess it up?" you ask, looking up at him. He frowns, not understanding. "Us. What if...what if we mess us up?"

"I don't see how we would," he laughs. "We're practically married."

"Gross. We are not."

"We split the bills, pie."

"Most roommates do."

"We cook together."

"Most roommates do."

"My mother loves you."

"Your mother loves everyone."

"Not true. And my father loves you."

You pause, then squint.

"Your father has good taste," you say. Jackson rolls his eyes. He looks a little conflicted, like he can't decide what's too much, what's too soon.

"I do," he says quietly.

You hate that, for once in your life, you know exactly what he's saying without him saying it. And god damn it, you feel your eyes burning.

"Don't...ugh," you whine, looking away from him. But he's not having it, taking your chin and tilting your face up. You're faced with glassy eyes that make you want to die.

You hated it when he cried. Maybe you make his joints hurt or whatever, but you've only seen Jackson cry twice, once when his family dog died, and another when he was drunk and had convinced himself you weren't his friend anymore. Both times, you'd never felt so helpless. The way you feel now.

"Y/n, I—"

"Please don't," you breathe quickly, swallowing down your tears. You immediately panic at the look on his face, like you've slapped him. But you tuck your hair behind your ear and shake your head.

"No, I-I mean, I know you do, and I...I'm pretty sure I do too. I just...I can't say it now, alright?" you explain. "I'm sorry, I just—you know me better than anyone. I don't...don't wanna fuck it up, you know? I don't wanna lose you, I'm so bad, so stupid when it comes to this—"

"Hey, hey, shh..." Jackson says, gently shaking your chin. "I'm not upset, okay? Just relieved, a little scared. I don't want to fuck this up either, yeah? I want...I want what we are today and I want it tomorrow, even if that means we stay just like this."

His thumb brushes your lower lip. God, you want to kiss him again.

"No rush, pie, okay? I'll wait for you, even if..." he sucks in air and looks away, as though the idea hurts to even consider. "...even if it's never for us."

You want to kiss him again. Would that even be appropriate? After what you just said? After the emotions threatening to disrupt the foundation of your life for the past four years?

"Can...can I kiss you again?" he asks softly. You swallow and nod.

"Please."

[vodika-vibes]

It Was A Bet?

Summary: Tech admits that Echo was dared to ask you on a date, and your whole world comes crashing down around you.

Pairing: TBB Echo x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1150

Warnings: This made me weepy as I was writing it. Miscommunication.

A/N: So, I've been toying with this idea for a couple of weeks, and I finally had enough to turn it into a story. Also, writing is hard right now because whenever I look at a screen for longer than 30 minutes I get a headache. I desperately need new glasses.

Click HERE to be added to my taglist

Your comm has been ringing non-stop for the better part of the day. And you know that if you were to look at the name on the screen it would have Echo’s name. 

You don’t want to talk to him.

You don’t want to see him either.

But you also know that the next step is for Echo to show up on your doorstep and insist that you let him in.

You don’t want to.

You feel raw. Exposed in a way you haven’t felt since you were a teenager.

Why couldn’t Tech have kept his big mouth shut?

…no.

No. That’s unkind of you.

This isn’t Tech’s fault. And him not telling you about the dare wouldn’t change the fact it happened.

And, to Tech’s credit, when he realized that you had no idea what he was talking about, he apologized to you and mentioned that he thought that Echo would have mentioned it to you by now.

But he didn’t.

He didn’t, and now you have to wonder if any of it was real. Or was it all pretend? Was it all designed to make him feel better about himself?

You jump when you hear a knock on the door, which is annoying seeing as you expected it, and you turn your head to stare at the carefully painted door. 

“Cyare? I know you’re in there. I can see the light on.” Echo’s voice comes through the door, “Open the door, please?”

You stare at the door for a moment longer, and then you pick up the remote and turn up the volume on the holo.

“Oh, very mature.” Echo says on the other side of the door, “No. Wait. I didn't mean that. Cyare, let me talk to you. Please?”

Again, you don’t respond.

“I have all day. And I have no issues making myself a problem to your neighbors.” Echo warns.

You scowl at the holo, but this time you drop your legs from the couch and stalk over to the door. You slam your hand on the button to open the door, though you open the door enough to look out, “What?”

Echo sighs, “You’re not going to let me in?”

“You’re lucky I’m even talking to you.” 

“Right. Fair.” He runs his hand over his head, “Let me explain. Please?”

“What is there to explain?” You counter as you fold your arms, “You were dared to ask me out. You won. Congrats. I never want to see you again.” Sure, it feels like you’re heart is breaking in your chest, but it’s fine. You’ve always known this was too good to be true.

“Wait, wait! It sounds bad. I know it sounds bad. But you don’t have the whole story.”

“What more do I need to know? That you laughed at me when I confessed to you? That it was all a joke to you?”

“What? No! It wasn’t! None of it was!” He places his hand on the side of the door, “Let me in, please? Don’t make me have this conversation with you out here?”

“Echo, please.” Oh, your voice is shaking. You’re going to cry again. Stupid traitorous body.

On the other side of the door, Echo falters. There’s a flash of guilt, and then he shifts and pushes the door open enough that he can enter your apartment.

Once inside, he lets the door close behind him, and he takes a step towards you, reaching out to touch you. Though he stops when you take a step away from him. 

“Cyare, please let me explain.” He’s pleading with you, alternating between panic and guilt. 

“Fine. If you insist on hurting me more—”

“No. I don’t--I wasn’t--That was never my goal, I swear it.” For the first time since the day you met him, Echo’s tripping over his own words. 

“Then what was your goal, Echo?” You shake your head, “What was the point? Did you think I would just never find out?”

“Do you remember the day we met?”

“...What?”

“It was sunny,” Echo continues, “You were babysitting your nephew, so you were both wearing tooka ears, and he was running around collecting pretty shells—”

“I remember you wouldn’t talk to me.”

“Couldn’t talk to you.” He corrects, “I was--force, do you even know how stunning you looked at that moment? I didn’t say anything because I couldn’t say anything. I was struck speechless.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Echo takes a half step towards you, and this time you don’t back away, “Whether you believe me or not, it’s the truth. And, I’m a confident guy, cyare, but the idea of talking to you when I look like…well, this.” He gestures to his body, “I couldn’t do it.”

You sigh softly, “You look fine, Echo.”

“I had a crush on you, which is embarrassing for a man my age, but I was too much of a coward to do something about it.” He says quickly, “So Crosshair and the others dared me to ask you out.”

“That doesn’t make it hurt less, Echo.” You say quietly.

“I know.” He inches a little closer to you, and you wince when his hand presses lightly against your cheek, “I meant to tell you. I really did.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Honestly, I forgot.”

“You forgot?”

“That…sounds bad.” He cautiously settles his scomp on your hip, “When I’m with you, the only thing I’m thinking about is you. And then I get home and I remember that I still haven’t told you about the dare, and the next thing I know six months have passed, and I still haven’t told you—” He trails off, “I’m sorry, cyare.”

You sigh softly, “You really hurt me, Echo.”

“I know.”

“I felt like I was a joke.”

“You’re not! You could never be.” Echo says quickly, “I love you, you’re everything to me.” He hesitates, “Can you forgive me?”

“...if you ever make me feel like this again, we’re done.”

“Oh, thank kriff.” He drops his forehead to your shoulder, “I thought I lost you.”

“I’m not happy with you right now, Echo.”

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” He pulls back and searches your face, “You still love me, though?”

“Yeah. I still love you.”

His forehead falls back to your shoulder, and his arms snake around you to hold you tight. “Good. That’s good.”

You don’t move for a moment, and then you lightly wrap your arms around him and stroke his back, causing him to almost melt into you. It seems like he was genuinely worried that he lost you because of this.

And maybe you’re an idiot for forgiving him. Maybe you’re a love-sick fool for taking him at his word. But you can’t help it. You love him and you trust him.

“Echo?”

“Hm?”

“Can we get pasta for dinner?”

He releases a slightly shaky laugh, “Whatever you want, cyare.”

@heidnspeak

@justiceandwar98

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@msmeredithrose

@cdblake1565

@badbatch-bitch

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[boybandbaby]

The Sweet Escape Part V

911 AU (Prince!Evan Buckley x Fem!Baker!Reader)

previous part

word count: 4855

warnings/tags: smut (18+ minors please do not interact), cheating/homewrecking, unprotected p in v, biting, riding, slight nipple play, light choking, cream pie (I wish I had a baking joke to go along with this)

note: not sure when the next part will be out - haven’t planned past this chapter yet

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

It’s been weeks since you’ve seen Buck and you truly miss him. You wonder if he misses you too. You’ve heard through Albert who’s heard through Chimney who’s heard through Maddie that Buck has been compliant lately. No arguing with his parents, actually learning King duties, helping out with the wedding.

You hope he’s doing well despite everything. Even after you heard him say that you mean nothing to him, his is still everything to you.

You beat yourself up everyday for pushing him away so cruelly. You tell yourself it is justified because of what he said.

You begin to replay your conversation with Chimney and Eddie from just last week.

“He’s miserable. He misses you so much.” Chim informs you.

“Did he tell you that?” You raise a brow and cross your arms over your chest.

“Well no, but I mean I see it on his face. You have to reach out to him.” Chim follows you as you move to sweep some crumbs off the floor.

“Guys, I appreciate what you’re doing but he’s getting married in a few days.”

“He should be marrying you. Everyone knows it.” Eddie says matter of factly.

“There’s nothing that can be done.” You sigh in defeat, handing Albert the broom to place back in its holding place.

“You could always object at the wedding?” Albert adds.

“Yeah right, the queen would have my ass.” You laugh. “She’d get the bakery shut down as punishment.”

“Maybe that’s true but you could still be there for him. He needs a friend.” Eddie shrugs.

“He has you guys, Hen, Bobby. He doesn’t need or want me around.”

“You can’t possibly believe that.” Eddie sasses.

“I heard him say it.” You blurt. “He said I don’t mean anything to him. He didn’t even know I was in the room when he said it.”

“It has to be a misunderstanding. I’ve seen the way he looks at you.” Chim leans against the counter, stealing a croissant from Albert.

“You should’ve heard all the whispers at the ball. Girls were jealous of the attention he was giving you, some of the parents thought you were already together. You both looked good together.” Eddie utters.

You feel your cheeks and neck get warm before turning your head down, trying to find something to busy yourself.

“Just… think about it. At least send him birthday wishes.”

There’s two soft knocks on Buck’s door. He groans, thought he told Eddie to go home to Chris.

Buck’s had a long day. He’s met so many different people, allies in which he should remain connected and respectful for future support. He’s taken a few classes on public speaking and history and a dance class for the wedding. He’s just gotten back from a charity event, while rewarding and eye opening, he’s ready to call it a night.

He chooses to ignore the knocks, shedding his blazer and shoes off. Two louder, more impatient knocks ring out.

“What the hell?” He grinds his teeth, suppressing a groan. He storms over to the door, whipping it open with force. The door is heavy but with his determination, he opens it up quickly, enough to create a gust of wind.

Your back is turned to the door, keeping an eye on the hallway and also ready to book it out of there. You jump when you feel the cold air and hear his annoyed tone. “What!?”

It’s quickly followed by a “Y/n, what are you doing here?” He is shocked to say the least. His voice comes out more soft than just moments before.

“Hi,” you whisper. “I wanted to see you.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, I’ve been thinking a lot about you.” You admit, shyly.

Buck looks around the hallway and pulls you into his room before anyone can see. You’d surely be in trouble if you were caught.

You’ve never been in his room before. You’ve never really been anywhere other than the kitchen and the ballroom before either. His room is somehow exactly as you’d suspected with a 4 post king size bed, long silky drapes, ceiling to floor windows, a fireplace, a leather couch. What you didn’t expect was for the little unique parts of him throughout. The pajama pants thrown onto the messy bed, a pair of slippers laid beside his bed, a cork board with a variety of pictures of friends and family, and a little bed side night light. The items seem so out of place in the grand aspect of his room.

Buck runs to tidy up a bit, hoping he’s not embarrassing himself in front of you. “I’m sorry. I haven’t let anyone in here to clean in a while.”

“It’s no problem. I stopped by unannounced.” You swing the basket in your hands. “Your room is bigger than our entire apartment.” You laugh, mouth open in awe as your fingers run along the back of his couch. “You have a balcony?”

Before he can answer, you’re running to the set of double doors and out into the night air. From his view you can see the layout of the land, from the yard around his home to the rows of trees that cover the path leading down to town. You can see the roofs of the familiar buildings you’ve grown up around.

You have to squint to really make out things but it still looks beautiful amongst the dark blue sky.

“I used to come out here a lot when I was younger. I would just sit and watch the sun rise and fall every day.” He leans over the railing a bit.

You keep a fist wrapped in the back of his dress shirt as he leans too far over for your liking. “You don’t do it anymore?”

“Don’t have time.” He shrugs, eyes flicking to the basket in your left hand. “What do you got there?”

“Oh! Um,” you set the basket on one of his lounge chairs and kneel down. Your skirt bunches up as you slink down to your knees. He loves that you don’t care about the balcony dirt getting on your skirt. It’s something so simple but it shows who you are.

He briefly thinks back to his fiancé and the meltdown she had this morning when one of the servants spilled a cup of coffee on the floor causing droplets to fall on her heels. Buck had to apologize for her outburst.

He watches you take out a small box. It’s wrapped in makeshift wrapping paper from a brown paper bag tied with a silky pink bow.

“Come here.” You beckon him over.

He’s in dress pants so he can’t get down to the floor unless he wants to further embarrass himself and split his pants. He sits on the chair beside your basket. “I know I’m early but happy birthday.”

“Wait, you remember my birthday?”

“Of course, it’s like a city wide holiday.” You laugh. “Plus you never shut up about it when we were kids. I know it’s not much really, but it’s from my heart.”

He unties the bow and pulls the wrapping off. Inside is The Finest Flour’s signature baby blue box, a clear window showing the little cake you made for him. It’s a small two tiered heart shaped cake, sage green frosting with white swirly accents. On top is a sparkly “25” in fondant.

“You made this for me?” He exhales, his eyes glossy.

“Yeah, I figured I’d make you a good cake with flavor since your wedding cake is bland as fuck.” You laugh. You only know because your bakery has been requested to make the wedding cake with specific instructions to “make sure it’s moist.”

Buck sets the box down and looks down at you. “Y/n, I-“

“You don’t have to say anything, Buck.”

“I do. I’m so fucking sorry. When I said you meant nothing to me, I didn’t mean it. You have to believe me.”

“How do you know that is why I was mad?”

“I figured it out surprisingly. I know I have a reputation for being a himbo but I’m not that dumb. Also, Hen helped me realize.” He chuckles.

“You’re not dumb at all.” You shake your head, “just not the smartest.” He snorts at that and doesn’t argue. “You know Chim and Eddie must really love you. They came to the bakery saying they wanted to visit Albert but the entire time the kept vouching for you like they were you’re lawyer or representative or something.” You shake your head with light laughter.

“I know you keep getting hurt by me and I don’t want you to. I would never want to hurt you y/n.” Buck reaches for your hand. You let him hold it.

“I know, Buck. You’re not like your parents or all the rich douchebags around here. You’re sweet and soft.”

“You think so?” He blushes.

“I know so.” You smile up at him. “How’s the wedding coming along? Sometime next week you’ll be married.”

“Let’s talk about anything else please.” He rubs his thumb over your knuckles. His eyes follow his movements before he slowly pulls away. “So, how are things with you and Albert?”

“It’s going really well.” You smile, hands falling to your lap. “I love having him around.”

“I’m really happy for you y/n, he’s a great guy and I know he’ll treat you right.”

“Wait.. what? We’re not together!” You laugh, “no, I mean he’s been really great help for the bakery.”

“Oh… tha-that’s good. I’m sorry I assumed.” He breathes a sigh of relief. You both smile softly at each other. Buck bites his lip while you shake your head, laughing to yourself.

“Well I should probably head out. Don’t want to get us both in trouble.” You reach your hands out to him, he stands and helps pull you up. “It was good seeing you.”

“Yeah.” He nods quickly. He uses your locked hands to pull you into him for a hug. His arms wrap around your upper back. You don’t hesitate to wrap yours around his waist. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too.” You pull back slightly. You decide you can only hold back slightly, your feelings for him are clearly still here and urging you to make a move. You know he’s an engaged man, soon to be married but you can’t seem to care.

You bring your lips to the apple of his cheek. Your lips are smooth and slightly sticky and scented with your favorite chapstick. You keep your lips there long enough to hopefully leave the ghost of the kiss there when you leave.

Just as you’re pulling away, youre stumbling backwards at the desperate force of Buck’s lips on yours. Before you can trip on the rug below you, his hands hold you in place. His hands are splayed over the sides of your neck as he pulls your face into his. The kiss is hot and cradles every part of your body, spreading over your skin. It feels like you’re in a sauna despite the cold air filtering in from the balcony.

Buck’s hands travel down to your hips as your steps mock his own, long and slow like a waddle, until you’re backed up against his bed.

“Jump.” He commands, voice low and light. When you do, his hands on your hips guide you up onto his bed. His bed is high up on its platform, definitely accommodating his tall height.

His bed is squishy and soft, like a cloud of cotton candy. He wastes no time in unbuttoning his dress shirt, a thin white tshirt under it.

He stands between your legs, holding into your thighs as you take over. You’re pulling the fabric from his shoulders and letting the shirt drop to the floor.

Buck undresses you slowly, savoring your scent and leaving kisses on your shoulders.

He lays you back onto the bed, pushing you up to fully enjoy the expanse of his mattress. His lips plant a kiss to your forehead, down the bridge of your nose, then your lips and chin.

He’s been respectful up until now, eyes glued to your face. Not until you say “keep going” does he give your collarbone a kiss and let his eyes roam your chest.

His body is planted on top of yours, with enough room between you both to move, he trails down your shoulders and chest, not missing any inch of skin.

Buck is licking and kissing down the slopes of your breasts, over your stomach and down your left hip. You’re squirming and giggling at his lips and growing stubble. He sucks marks down your inner thigh to the inside of your knee before he leaves a kiss.

“God, you smell amazing.” It’s a mix of sugar and cocoa powder on you. “I could just eat all of you.”

“Eat me or eat me out?” You look down at him as he runs a hand down your calf, kissing your ankle.

“Why not both?” He smirks.

“Maybe another time, I need you.” You pant. His kissing has worked you up, never having experienced a partner shower your entire body with love.

Buck stands at the edge of the bed, slipping his pants and socks off. His tshirt is next to go, thrown on the wooden footboard of the bed.

“Are you sure about this?” He asks, just in his boxers.

You sit up on your elbows to look at him. “I am. Are you?”

“So sure.” He smiles before shimmying his boxers down. He disappears for a moment as he bends down to take the boxers off his feet.

When he comes back up, the next thing you know is that his full weight is on you as he’s resting on his elbows. One of your arms is wrapped under one of his arms, your fingers running through the hair at the nape of his neck. Your fingers get caught in his curls but he doesn’t mind the little tug that happens every so often.

You’re getting restless under him as all he’s done is kiss you. His kisses are intoxicating but you need more.

“Buck,” You mumble against his lips.

“You need more, baby?” He whispers into your ear.

“Yes, please.” You shudder.

“Tell me exactly what you want.” He teases. You can’t think straight, you thought his kisses left you dizzy but then he called you baby.

“I want you inside of me.” You whisper, afraid someone other than you two will hear how bad you want him.

Now that Buck is sure you really want this, that you’re consenting to this, he nudges your thighs open. His hips slightly fall closer to the mattress as you make space for him.

“I need you to tell me when things don’t feel good or you want me to stop.” He holds his cock in his right hand, stroking gently while his left is holding him above you.

“Okay, okay.” You rush, feeling impatient. “Please Evan.”

Buck uses the tip of his cock to find your entrance. It’s not a perfect hole in one as he runs his tip along your folds. He can feel your body tense and he knows he’s at the right spot.

“Don’t tease me.” You warn.

He laughs, dropping his head to your shoulder. He pushes himself into you. It’s a slow stretch due to his size.

Your hands hold onto his shoulders, nails digging into the skin. You’re holding back, not wanting to hurt him. He has a different idea as his teeth sinks into your shoulder. It’s not too hard but there will definitely be indents of his teeth.

It feels like forever when he finally gets to the base of his member.

“How are you feeling?” He kisses the teeth marks.

“Full.” You laugh. “But good, really good.”

“Can I move?” He kisses the skin right in front of your earlobe just above your jaw.

“Yes, please. Been waiting for so long already.” You whine.

“Needy.” He jokes before pulling his hips away from yours and thrusting back into you slowly.

He starts slow and picks up the pace at your begging. Your hand goes back to pulling at his curls, the other is wedged between your bodies, fingers applying pressure to your clit. With every thrust, he feels your knuckles brush against his happy trail. His left leg shakes uncontrollably each time it does.

Your hand cramps from the position but you don’t stop, moving slowly in circles to keep building on your high.

He’s kissing your neck and shoulder, changing from simple pecks to sloppy kisses to sucking. His lips graze your jaw every so often sending a moan from your lips. He’s smiling against your skin, teasing you with his stubble. He loves the reactions he’s getting from you.

You’d never expected Buck to be a guy who enjoys and is good at slow sensual passionate sex. You’d always picture him as a guy who fucks like a jackrabbit, rough, fast and sloppy.

“I love feeling you on me.” You confess. “Every part of you feels so good.”

“Can’t believe I’m with you right now. Could spend hours exploring every inch and crevice of you.” He whimpers. “I love you, y/n.”

“Buck-“ You gasp, his hips pounding into you. You feel the tip of his cock hitting the same spot over and over.

“I do, I’m so in love with you.” His eyes are screwed shut.

“Evan, look at me.” You say between moans. Your bodies rock up and down and you’re clinging with sweat. He lifts his head to meet your eyes.

“I love you, too. So much.” You don’t even have the chance to smile because his lips are on yours again. You wrap your legs around his waist and pull him in closer, which you didn’t think could be possible.

“Holy shit, don’t stop.” You moan, your fingers are about to give out, clit practically burnt off by how fast you’re brushing your fingers over it.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” Buck mumbles into your neck. You don’t say anything out loud but you can feel his tears, dripping down his cheeks and pooling on your neck.

“Come on, handsome. We’re almost there.” You encourage. That’s all it takes for him to release. His hips stutter and he lets out a noise that’s similar to a groan, mouth open in an “ah.”

He clings to your shoulders, arms between your back and the mattress as he holds you tight. He has no control over his hips as he brings you to your high.

“Ohmygod, ohmygod.” You screech, thighs squeezing his hips as if you’re cracking a walnut. Your toes squeeze and flex, tickling his skin. His nose runs along your cheek as you whine out a long moan. “I-“

You can’t even get a word out as you shiver the tenseness out of your body. Your body goes slack, releasing his body. You laugh, completely overwhelmed by what just happened, not sure how to communicate your thoughts.

Buck just watches you with fond eyes, savoring this feeling. You shake your head, blinking. When you’ve come out of your haze, you meet his eyes.

Your thumbs brush his cheeks, damp with tears. “You okay?” He sniffles, giving you a nod. “Good tears?” He nods again. “Come lay beside me, wanna cuddle you.” You kiss his birthmark. Buck slowly pulls out, blowing out a breath of air and hissing when he is fully out of you.

He scoots himself into your side, head resting on your bicep, thick thigh thrown over to cover your lower half. One arm is squished beneath him and his other massages your hand. He feels the tension in your hand, milking out the forming cramp.

“You’re making me feel all tingly, Buckley.”

“You make me feel loved, y/n.” He bypasses your compliment. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him so serious.

“You deserve all the love in the world. Not because of your good looks or because you come from a well off family but because of your heart. You care so much about others.” You drop his hand to your chest, brushing aside his curls from his face. “I can’t wait for you to be King. You’re going to use your big heart to better not just yourself but those around you.”

“What if I don’t become King?” He whispers, his hand traveling up to your neck, running his thumb over your throat.

“Then what would you do?”

“I’ve always wanted to be a teacher.” He reveals. “I love kids. I would love to be able to help shape them into good people you know? Provide a safe space for them to grow and express themselves.”

“You’d be good at it. You’re patient and you make people feel welcome. When we first met, we’d never even spoken but you started speaking to me like we knew each other all our lives. You make people feel comfortable.”

“You think I could do it?”

“I know you could.” You smile. “Stay here.”

You pull your arm from under his head and grab the closest clothing item you can find. You press it to your chest to cover yourself. You tip toe over to the balcony to grab his cake.

“Should we try some?” You struggle to keep yourself covered as you hold the box on one hand.

“Ooh yes.” He claps before pulling part of the comforter he’s on, over his lap. He pulls a pillow under his head and upper back. You hand him the box and get a running start to jump onto his bed.

He’s laughing as he opens the box. You’d hoped he would want to eat with you so you’d provided two forks.

You cheekily pull the blanket off his lap and sit on his thighs. You pull the cake out of the box and rest it on his stomach like a table.

It’s almost his birthday and you want to spoil him while you have him. You give him the first bite of the cake. The moan he makes around the fork has you squirming on him.

“You know what? Forget the cake.” You rush to get it off of him and onto his nightstand.

Buck tucks his arms behind his head. He’s sprawled comfortably on his comforter. He watches as you lean over, pushing the cake to a comfortable spot where it won’t fall off.

You lean down to kiss him, cleaning the frosting off his lips. You suck his bottom lip into your mouth, biting it and dragging it open.

Buck sucks in a breath. “Let me take care of you.” You whisper against his mouth. He nods slowly, lips chasing yours as you lean back.

He’s just about to whine when you begin to suck on his neck. You creep down to his chest, not wanting to leave any noticeable marks. You decide to run your tongue over his pecs and close to his nipple. He curls in on himself, giggling.

“Don’t tickle me!”

“I wasn’t trying to!” You pinch his nipple.

“Okay, that was just mean. It’s my birthday, you have to be nice to me.”

“Oh? I have to?” You pinch his other one and he squeals. “I’ll be nice from now on.”

“You better.” His arms are crossed and his hands are covering his nipples from any further torment.

You start up again, kiss down his tummy, sucking the skin as you get lower. Buck is trying to stop the little spasms his body does every time you kiss him. He’s rock hard again in no time, hand lazily coming to stroke himself as he watches you shower his thighs in hickies.

“What do you want to do birthday boy?” You look up at him, though it’s hard with the stroking that’s happening in your line of vision as you try to look at his face.

“I wanna kiss you a little more.” He beckons you to come back up. His right hand strokes as his left hand comes to rest on your hip. His moving hand is tucked under you, continuing his movements as you lean down over him to kiss him.

Buck whimpers into the kiss and has to bite his lip to stop himself from making pathetic noises. He loses the battle when you ask if you can ride him.

In seconds, he’s lining himself up for you to sink down. His grip on your thighs helping guide you down onto him before going back behind his head. You both moan in unison at the feeling. Your pussy easily sucks him in this time.

His comforter pools around your thighs and calves as you slowly start to grind on him. The material caressing your legs with every move.

Your hands stretch across his abdomen, grounding your every movement. Your hips roll and roll as you fuck him. Buck relaxes into the bed, hands behind his head, simply watching the way your eyes scrunch with each forward thrust you make. Your head is dropped forward, your chin tucked almost to your chest.

Your movements are slow and rhythmic, calculated.

“You look so fucking hot.” He moans.

“You feel so good.” You cry out. “Love how you stretch me open.”

“Keep going baby, you’re taking me so well.” His voice is husky and breathless. “Don’t stop, please.”

Your hips speed up, causing Buck to flinch and buck his hips. His hands shoot out from behind his head to grip your hips as you begin to topple forward. His hands clutch to the fatty skin between your thighs and hips as he pulls you forward and back on his cock.

Your hands hold onto his outstretched biceps for stability when you begin to change from grinds to bounces.

“Oh shit.” Buck whispers through a soft gasp. “Right there.”

“Yeah?” You puff, exhaling deeply. “You want me to keep going?”

“Yes, yes please don’t stop.” He pleads, eyes droopy. His mouth opens but nothing comes out as his neck strains. You can see a vein on the side as he throws his head back. “You’re perfect.”

You put pressure onto Buck’s chest with your hands as you slam down into him. He’s close, that much you can tell by the way he whimpers and tenses.

“You look so fucking pretty like this, Evan.”

His entire chest is flushed red and he has a light sheen of sweat on his forehead. He’s glistening under you. Your orgasm is near as well, his trimmed hair tickling your clit with every move.

“Shit shit, I’m gonna cum again.” He thrusts up.

“Me too, handsome.” You moan, bringing your hand to his throat. You give it a gentle squeeze as you both ride out your highs. Buck’s given up any control as you watch him release.

Your orgasm comes quick and you clench around him, slowing your hips. Before you can come to a full stop, he’s wrapping his arms around your back and pulling you down to him.

You squeak and fall onto his chest. “Babe, hold on. We’re all sweaty.”

“Don’t care, just want to hold you.” He mumbles. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too. Happy birthday, pretty.” You kiss his temple and slowly pull from him. You feel like a piece of tape, struggling to get out of his arms and skin sticking to his own.

The breeze from the open doors soothed the hotness in your body. You’re still trying to catch your breath as you begin to collect your clothes.

“Stay the night?” He sits up, resting on his elbow and reaching for your hands.

“Buck, we both know that’s not a good idea. As much as I would love to stay, we don’t want to get caught.” You grab his hands and kiss his knuckles. You let his hands go to get dressed.

“When will I see you again?” He gets up from the bed and slips on a clean pair of boxers and his pajamas pants.

“Soon, I promise.” You pull him into a kiss by the waistband of his pants. “Have a great birthday.”

He nods and holds a hand onto the back of your head, bringing his lips to your forehead. You’re both smiling like idiots as he opens his door.

“I’ll walk you to the kitchen.”

“I’ll walk her to the kitchen, goodnight Evan.” You both jump at the sound of Athena’s voice.

“I-“

“Goodnight.” Athena emphasizes and looks between the two of you.

Buck nods and gives a small wave. His hand squeezes your shoulder and moves up to cup your neck before he’s closing the door.

“You best get back home y/n, before someone else catches you.” She kindly scolds. You can see a faint smile on her lips as she escorts you through the palace and to the kitchen. “Don’t make this a habit y/n. I won’t always be around to save you and Buck.”

“Yes ma’am.” You bite your lip and get your bike started. She watches you drive off and shakes her head with a laugh.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

next part (coming soon)

[buckysgrace]

Out of My Mind

Gator Tillman x stepsis!reader

Gator finally listens to you, only for you to realize that's not what you want.

CW: Stepcest/pseudocest, blowjobs, unprotected p n v sex, some religious trauma sprinkled in there, degradation, reader gets highly highly pathetic soooooo

Can be read as a standalone or you can check out Good Graces as well :)

You were regretful. Your previous actions pained you, made your stomach knot with guilt and worry as you tiptoed through the ranch with your head down.

You were almost convinced that everyone knew, or at least had to be suspicious. Every time someone watched you for a second too long, or spoke to you in a different tone you were sure the truth was going to come out. You were fearful.

Not that Gator seemed to mind. No. He had no issues strutting around in his normal manner, almost as if nothing had happened.

You were doing everything in your power to avoid him. You didn't want to talk to him, didn't want to touch him or see him. You didn't even want to smell his cologne or hear his irritating music. Everything about him got underneath your skin.

It almost worked on your part, but Gator had apparently decided that he couldn't get enough. He was like a little puppy, following you around so closely that he often stumbled onto the back of your heels. The asshole.

You tried to pray away your sin, just like your mother said you could do. But not even that seemed to work. Today, your mind kept wandering back to Sunday and how he had continued to brush his fingertips against the bottom of your dress, just enough that you could feel his bare skin against your own. You could still feel his touch now, almost as if he had burned you.

"You look good on your knees." Your fingers tightened together at the sound of his voice, your eyes dramatically rolling into the back of your head as his footsteps echoed in the room.

"Leave me alone." You retorted the same sentence, although your curiosity got the best of you as you turned your head to the side.

He was in his usual cargo pants, and a black muscle tee clinging to him like a second skin. You could see everything if you allowed your eyes to wander, which you didn't. You couldn't.

"What crawled up your ass?" He teased as he cocked his eyebrows, bringing his vape up towards his lips. You shifted your arms over your mattress, too tired to tell him not to vape in your room.

His eyes were warm, a mixture of brown and green as he took a step closer to you. You hated to acknowledge the way butterflies erupted in your tummy at the way he towered over you from this position. You craned your head up further, deciding to be a little honest. Maybe he'd get the hint then.

"It shouldn't have happened," you told him seriously, whispering underneath your breath so no one could possibly hear, "it was wrong." You reminded him, feeling like he needed a reminder of what that meant.

He cocked his head to the side as he blew out a large puff of smoke, fruity like bubblegum. You swatted at him, wishing that he’d leave you alone.

"I don't remember you tellin' me to stop." He added as he watched you intensely, like he was trying to understand your next move before you made it.

You felt a wave of guilt and shame crashing over you, clearly remembering how you had acted. You didn’t need him to remind you. It kept you up at night as it was.

"Go away." You said at last, swallowing harshly as you turned your attention back towards the cross on your wall. You wondered how people could so easily resist temptation. And that’s exactly what he was.

"In fact," he grinned from ear to ear as he knelt down next to you, sighing softly as he moved his large hands across his thighs, "I think you begged for more of it."

"Don't flatter yourself." You scoffed even though it was true. You knew that you would do it again given the chance. He just happened to be blessed in an annoyingly manner.

Your stomach flipped into knots as he moved a hand against your lower back, making you stiffen as his fingers slowly ran underneath the hem of your shirt. You hated how easily you caved in, how you wanted to feel more of his touch:

"What's the problem?" he hummed as he dragged his finger across your abdomen, earning goosebumps across your skin, "you're already ruined for anyone else." He spit out, making your body chill from his cold words.

"Fuck you." You retorted as you found your voice once again. He couldn’t talk to you like that, you wouldn’t let him. Especially knowing what he had been up to. He has no right.

"Ooh," he smirked as he continued to drift his fingers across your skin, "I don't think God likes when you talk like that." He whispered, suddenly much closer than you anticipated. You could see his freckles on his nose from his closeness, making you wonder if he could also see the way his words sliced into you.

“Leave me alone.” You spoke firmly, sternly as you wrapped your fingers around his wrist and pushed him away. He couldn’t treat you the way he did ever other girl he had been with. You wouldn’t allow it.

“You sure you want that?” He asked, all high and mighty like you would be missing out on something fantastic. Still, you thought about it for a moment. A brief second before you turned away from him.

“I’ve never been more positive about something in my life.” You replied as you linked your fingers together again, bowing your head and pretending to pray. You refused to look at him, only allowed yourself to listen as he stood next to you.

“Then don’t come bitchin’ to me when you’re all lonely again.” He snapped, his anger crashing over you like a thick wave. You ignored him still, only listening to the sound of his footsteps leaving the room.

You prayed that he had gotten the hint.

-

The next few weeks were uneventful, cold even. Gator didn’t bother you, didn’t look in your direction or speak to you other than to occasionally ask you to pass him the salt.

Which was somehow worse. All that effort to push him away and now you were regretting it, but you refused to admit it. You were sure he’d come crawling back first.

In place of his absence, your lust grew. You thought about him in the shower, during early mornings and late nights, when you were in bed alone and only God could judge you for your actions. You were a mess.

And when he remained stubborn you hatched your own plan; wearing shorter skirts and unbuttoning the top of your dresses a little more. Sitting close to him and drifting your fingers across the nape of his neck, making him shiver even when he pretended it didn’t affect him.

“Late night?” You asked as you turned towards him, checking the clock on the wall. He was almost three hours late, making you wonder where he had been. Or whom he had been with him.

“Why do you care?” He snorted as his eyes breezed over you, not paying attention to the little nightgown that you had picked out. You had hoped it would make him break and grovel for you.

“Who said I did?” He scoffed at your reply, shaking his head as he continued to strip his vest off. You watched the way his muscles tensed as he did so, making your mouth water just a bit.

You were already damned. You might as well make the most out of it.

“You don’t talk to me anymore.” You rested your hand against your cheek as you spoke softly, sighing as you crossed your ankles together. Your heart flipped inside of your chest as he turned towards you, eyebrows furrowing together.

“You said to leave you alone.” He stated in disbelief, eyes narrowing as you began to shift again. He wasn't any fun.

“Oh, come on,” you pouted as you rested your arms across the back of the chair, watching as he kicked his boots away, “I was just scared.” You admitted, wishing that he would turn those gloomy eyes towards you.

“Alright.” He stated dryly, like he wasn't interested. Panic swelled inside of you, making you wonder if he had already found someone else.

“Why don’t you come sit with me?” You offered as you patted the spot next to you, wanting him to notice how well you had cleaned up.

“I’m good.” His reply made your heart drop into the floor, beaten and bloody as you straightened your shoulders out. You wouldn't take that as his final answer, no way.

“I’ll rub your feet,” you offered as you slowly crept towards him, well aware of the way his features fell in surprise, “your shoulders and your legs. I’m sure you worked hard today.” You cooed softly, crawling like a beast towards him.

“What’s gotten into you?” He whispered out this time, hazel eyes widening as he gave his head a little shake. Like he honestly had no idea what he had done.

“Just being nice,” you told him as you rested in front of him, fluttering your eyelashes, “You look so tired. Let me help you.” You pleaded softly, hands falling against his ankles.

“You’re pathetic, you know that.” He spit out harshly, like his words could offend you as your hands moved up towards his knees. You didn't care what he thought, what anyone thought. He was probably right, but you knew he wanted you just as badly.

“And I know you’re lonely,” you whispered as you ran your fingers across his thick thighs, “I can fix that.” You told him honestly, leaning your face against his hip bone. You could feel his body stiffening from your touch, like he was fighitng the urge to give in.

“Why should I?” He asked as he breathed in deeply while you dragged your nose across the front of his pants. He smelt nice, really good.

"I'll be good," you promised as you nuzzled your cheek across his thigh, your nose dragging across the obvious bulge in his pants, "Please. I'll be a good girl. A good little sister."

"Yeah?" He tsked as he tilted his head once again, like he was still considering what you had said. You pouted your lips out as you continued to press yourself up against him, desperate to feel anything from him, "You can't be that pathetic for some cock."

"Just yours," you promised, purring as you linked your fingers across his belt, "I wanna feel you so badly. Please." You nodded your head encouragingly, as if it might do something to change his mind.

It felt like a lifetime had passes as he dragged his fingers across your forehead, the corners of his lips curled into the tiniest smirk. His eyes were intense as he watched you, but you refused to look away. You wanted him to realize just how much you needed him.

"S'okay," he said at last, making your heart hammer inside your chest as he began to undo his belt. Everything inside of you pulsed as you observed him greedily, trying to fight the urge to reach out and do it yourself, "We all make mistakes sometimes." He retorted cockily, nearly making you roll your eyes. But you didn't, too fearful that he might stop his actions.

You flicked your tongue out across your lips as he pulled his belt free, then unbuttoned his pants. You could no longer just sit as you reached forward, eagerly helping him pull his slacks down to his ankles.

Your hungrily stared at the large bulge in front of you, straining inside of a pair of boxers. You exhaled as you drifted your fingertips across it, grinning at the way he groaned underneath your touch.

A grin fell to your lips as you gripped a hold of his boxers, tugging them down slowly as his dick popped free from it's restraints. You were in awe of how long he was, how thick and hefty he appeared.

You hated to admit that his cock was pretty. Slightly paler, tip pink and leaking as you felt how heavy it was in your hands. Curved upright and his base surrounded with thick hair.

You wrapped your fingers around his thick girth delicately, biting down on your bottom lip as he inhaled deeply. You dragged your fingers up to the head of his cock, smearing the precum across his tip before gliding it towards his base.

He grunted lowly, jerking his hips forward with your motions as you continued to trace the curve of his cock with your hand. You swore you could feel him pulsing against your skin, warm and soft at the same time.

You relaxed your jaw, momentarily preparing yourself to feel the stretch of his cock in your mouth. You leaned forward, kissing the tip of his cock while stroking his base in your hand.

A whimper broke free from his lips, making your insides twist and turn in bliss as you snapped your eyes up towards him. His eyes had fluttered shut, his eyebrows furrowing together as his lips fell open.

Pretty. The bastard had the nerve to look absolutely beautiful.

"Fuck," he cursed, eyes snapping open to look at you as you spread your lips across his thick tip. You pressed your tongue down further, trying to make more room in your mouth as you lowered your mouth onto the length of his cock, "You're such a little slut."

His words carried like electricity through your veins, warming your skin as your clit throbbed as you savored the feeling of his dick in your mouth.

His hands fell to the back of your head, his grip tightening as he forced your mouth further along the length of his dick. You whined at the feeling, chest aching as your lips stretched further sound him.

“Just like that,” he groaned as his hips snapped forward once again, needy as you continued to bob your head along the curve of his cock, “taking me so good.” He praised as you swallowed a moan, all too aware of how soaked your panties had become.

You gagged as his cock hit the back of your throat, eyes watering as drool slid from the corners of your lips. It was messy, sloppy as he gripped the back of your neck and continued to fuck into your mouth.

You knew it was dangerous to be doing this, even more so than last time. Roy and your mother were just upstairs, hopefully asleep as you continued to drag your mouth along your stepbrothers fat cock. Something about that turned you on, sent a desirable rush through your body.

His fingers dug into your scalp as you gagged harshly around him, drool falling onto your chest and his boots as you struggled to hold him in your throat. His balls were warm against your chin, soaked in your spit as he held you in place.

He held you there for a moment, hazel eyes locked on yours as he breathed in the sight of you. You were sure you looked a mess, but everything written on his features suggested that he enjoyed it.

He released you with a loud groan, his cock sliding from your mouth as you pulled away to fill your lungs with fresh hair. You touched your chest, spit continuing to leak from your mouth as you panted roughly.

“Fuckin’ whore,” he cursed as he grabbed your arms, pulling you onto your feet before you could fully compose yourself. Your body felt like jello as he stripped you from your dress, moving hastily before he pushed you onto the couch, “knew you wanted me badly.” He replied with a little smirk, looking quite proud of himself.

You could barely not your head as you watched him, excitement pooling inside of you as you stretched your legs wide. You pushed your knees up towards your chest, trying to ignore the way your pussy was glistening with want.

“She’s so needy for me,” he cooed as he dragged his fingertips through your soaked folds, earning a little whimper from you, “can’t wait to feel her stretchin’ around me.”

"Need you to fuck me." You whined as he grazed his digits across your slick hole, making your walls flutter with anticipation. Your clit was throbbing, desperate to feel his girth gliding into you.

"You've got a dirty little mouth on ya." He stated as he tilted his head, looking rather cocky as he used his other hand to rub his fat tip across your drenched cunt.

Your body spasmed at the feeling of his heavy cock resting across your pussy, making you feel even more eager as you examined just how much of him would be filling you. You breathed in and out, eyes heavy and mind fuzzy with pleasure. You needed him now.

"Please, Gator," you whined, rolling your hips forward, "Make me feel good." You begged as your clit dragged across the curve of his cock. he groaned at the sensation, his eyes darkening as he reached between your bodies.

You chewed on your bottom lip, heart hammering as you watched the way he wrapped his fingers across his girth. His lips curled into a little smirk as he thrusted forward, his balls pressing against your skin as you squirmed underneath him.

He pulled back hungrily, features full of lust as he bullied the tip of his dick against your soaked hole. Your hands fell to his strong shoulders as he slowly slid inside, his soft groans filling your ears.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head at the feeling of his cock stretching your walls out, allowing his thick cock inside of your tight walls as little whimpers left his lips. You were just as whiny, needing to feel him buried deep inside of you.

The sound that left his lips was enough to make your toes curl in pleasure, bliss burning deep inside of your veins as you tugged him even closer. His chest was hot against your own, his skin slick as you arched your chest up towards him.

One of his large hands fell to your waist, his fingertips digging into your flesh as he began to slowly grind his cock in and out of your clenched cunt. Your nipples hardened in the chill air, sparking pleasure as they brushed against his strong torso.

You reached your hands above your head, fingertips grazing across the armrest as he continued to drag his cock in and out of your wet walls. His mouth was hot against your skin, licking and sucking on your neck.

"So fuckin' good for me," he cursed as his forehead fell against yours, soft whines and moans continuing to spill from his tongue. You gaped, feeling like you had never been so deeply filled before, "You like my cock, don't you?" He mumbled, words strained as he roughly jerked your hands back across his shoulders.

Your nails dug into his flesh, earning a little yelp from him as he dragged his cock into you deeper. You could feel your eyes rolling back in pleasure, moans leaving your lips freely.

"Love your cock so much," you whined as you rolled your hips up to meet his thrusts, sighing as your cunt cried around his cock; soaking your thighs and his balls, "right there, Gator." You begged, electricity burning deeply inside of you as his warm eyes fell onto yours. Your insides twisted in bliss, taking in how pretty he looked as the pleasure filled him.

The couch creaked from underneath the combined weight of the two of you, your body sinking further into the cushions as his fingertips burned into your skin. You clung to him, your walls gripping him tightly as he pressed into your faster.

"S'fucking good," he spit out, lips coated with spit as his head rolled back lazily. The sound of your bodies meeting filled your ears, bouncing off of the living room walls, "Gonna fill this pretty little tang up, make her all mine." He huffed, throat straining as he gripped you tighter.

You nodded your head lazily, your mind foggy with pleasure as you savored the curve of his cock dragging against your bundle of nerves. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, nails digging into his skin as your stomach muscles clenched tightly.

"Gator, fuck, fuck," you cursed, whimpers breaking free as your body squirmed underneath his heavy body, your orgasm crashing over you in thick waves, "Fuck!" You cried out, leaning forward to muffle your sounds of pleasure against his neck.

Your body shook, trembling as his thrusts became harder and faster. Your pussy squelched around his cock, leaking with your cum as his moans became whinier, needier.

Your lips pressed against his neck gently, leaving sloppy kisses against where you could feel his pulse raising underneath his flushed skin. You licked his sweat away slowly, before giving his skin a little nibble.

"M'fuck," he hissed as he pressed into you deeply, cock twitching as you curled your toes in pleasure once again. He was flush against your bundle of nerves

You bit down harder on his skin as you felt his cum spilling inside of you, coating your walls with a mixture of your sin. You hated how glorious it felt, how you already craved more of it.

His lips were soft against yours, even though his mouth was slightly chapped. You tilted your head up towards his, wrapping your arms around his shoulders so he could kiss you deeper.

Your body was limp underneath him, thighs still trembling as you savored the taste of him on your tongue. This was going to be the last time. It had to be.

Maybe.

“Gonna want more of you.” He mumbled, like he could read your mind as he gripped your chin in his hand. He squeezed softly, eyes searching your own.

“It’s wrong.” You whispered as your heart continued to hammer roughly inside of your chest, making you wish you could hide it away.

“But it feels good,” he responded with a little smirk as he brushed his fingers across your cheek, “why should we deny ourselves that?” He questioned, making you wonder if you could agree with him for once.

[shorthaltsjester]

just constantly thinking about percy telling vex that he’d like to think they’re all better than they think they are (except her brother, of course) . constantly thinking about when vex tells percy he’s a good man and he gets awkward and flustered and returns that she’s a good woman and when she gets as awkward and flustered he goes “see. it’s not very nice is it.” percy shouting to ripley that he forgives her and vex carves forgive into the wood of her bow. vex tells percy to take off his mask and percy comes across vex in tears and scrubbing at her armour. god. the campaign starts and percy is making arrows as flirting and getting kisses in return and the campaign ends and exhausted and knowing it won’t be a want that will be fulfilled percy admits he never wants to make another weapon and vex equally exhausted affirms that he’ll never Have to. and god . god . opposites attract is great or whatever but the deliciousness of dynamics where the characters hold up a mirror to one another where they get to shed the burden of self and see someone Like Them as someone good or capable of being better and Falling In Love. and that love being a pathway to them coming to grips with their own image and their own capacity to be better. and that the fact that the person they fall for being someone so Familiar means that they see through each other’s shit. that percy sees that vex has fallen into the trap of Nobility tricking people into thinking that makes them inherently better and giving her the only whitestone title someone has to earn beyond selection or marriage or birth. that vex sees percy forgive ripley and discusses the importance of that choice but reminds him that it’s just as important that he forgive himself.

[icewindandboringhorror]

Pages from trying to keep a little sketchbook-scrapbook type thing going for two weeks lol. I gave myself specific rules in hopes they might all end up more cohesive/consistent seeming, but alas, scribbly chaos reigns, it seems

[suddencolds]

.~

[lucyshypemaster]

thoughts on unraveled?

OMFG I JUST WOKE UP AND SAW THE VIDEO

okay I'mma be fr, I have really mixed feelings about this. I mean, I kinda have already predicted that it's going to be keefe's time in the lost cities based on the clues shannon dropped for us-

I know a lot of people are disappointed because they really wanted book 10 + they're so sick of keefe which I have to admit as a keefe lover myself, I am 💀💀 but shannon did say that it's going to be really crucial for the story? so ig she's not just doing this for cash grab.

maybe keefe made some allies that'll really help sophie later on. plus, it'd be interesting to see how he overcame his fear of talking. idk people, I'm trying to see the good in this news.

I'm not really excited but obviously I'll still be reading it because again, according to shannon, it's extremely important soooo yeah

[todayisafridaynight]

What do you think Mine’s reaction to Masato / Aoki be like?

tbh they'd probably be. amicable. at the very least.

[clearallcathy]

Good lord. maybe its my headache making me a hater but i cannot stand the way people do pd positivity sometimes. do you not have anything to say to me other than "uhm i dont think youre a serial killer"

[womanfredvonkarma]

I've been having what I might call a Time.

[orcelito]

I am so curious what my stats r gonna be for Spotify wrapped. I only started using it in 2021 and so I only know my things for 2 years. Both years, Stray Kids was my top artist bc they're my fav kpop group

This year, I know without a doubt it's going to be IAMX. I have listened to them just about every day for Four Months Straight, often for hours and hours at a time. I have 102 songs liked from them, so I have not grown bored at all.

It's going to be a frankly ridiculous level of minutes played. I'm rly curious where I'm gonna rank in their listeners hfkdhdksbdk

[paper-mario-wiki]

over christmas when i came out fully to my mom she did tell me i was beautiful and gave me some of her old jewelry and told me she was excited to have another daughter and that was all wonderful, but the part that meant the most to me was when i told her "i want to get my facial hair taken care of sooner than later, the whole "girl" thing is a lot easier to swallow when im shaved" and she examined my use of the phrase "it's a lot easier to swallow" and said "Scout, I didn't have a good relationship with my mother. you know that." (i did know that, my grandma was NOT good to my mother) "but your grandma kim [friend of my grandma's, unrelated by blood in any way, but was adopted as a grandma through familial osmosis] was the greatest woman who's ever been in my life. and up until the day she died, she had a beard and a moustache [which is true, my grandma kim, a cis woman, had VERY thick facial hair]. if you kept your facial hair for the rest of your life i wouldnt think of you as less of a woman" and ya know what? THAT'S the part of her support that made me cry.

my grandma kim was an amazing woman and she had peach fuzz that she didnt give a FUCK about. and everyone loved her.

you can have your own fuzz too, and that doesn't make you not a woman.